I ron this blog.

Happy birthday to my little brother.

11 Years. Wow. He has grown so much. It was only yesturday that God gave me extra faith; drew me closer to Him through my brother. I know there are others that have had a rough childhood, so I can sympthize with others.

Of course, that is a story for another day, but my brother has had it rough. He was diagnoised with diabetes insipidus when he was born. Our family struggled taking care of him. Delayed physical and mental growth. Physical thearpy. Speech thearpy. He wouldn’t eat. Sticking a tube up his nose everyday. Holding him down, while he is screaming at the top of his lungs. Blood tests which felt like every week. Doctor visits every month. Specialist doctors. Special classes. Spending all my time with him. Taking care of him. Crying because I didn’t know what to do to make it better. Taking him where ever I went. watching him. Buying him clothes/shoes/food/toys etc. with my paychecks. Movies. Video games.

Alot of time has passed. I wouldn’t trade in a minute. Stuggles through my life for his life. But I love him oh so much. I love him. May God continue to help me raise him in His ways.

My heart

christ-follower:

glovecompartment:

I close my eyes, and try to imagine what my guarded heart would look like. I can see these huge white walls, very similar to drywall, with no ending point. They are roughly 8 feet wide and are connected at each corner to take on the shape of a pentagon. The look of it is sturdy, but with the right amount of applied force, the thin plaster layering, can be penetrated. These walls are flawed, and will not do. If I were to settle with this type of protection, it would only be a matter of time before a boy with eloquent words and charm might discover the obvious weakness and have found his way closest to my heart. Only to mistreat it of course, on account of how easy it was to obtain. My weaknesses will be apparent to him because of how close he was able to come in such a short amount of time. Because of how easily I let him step up to those walls. In moments of vulnerability he’ll point them out to maintain control and take up ownership of my heart in the process. When he is done and has had his fill, he’ll leave. Only to puncture another whole in my false sense of security I once called a wall. Leaving the treasure that was at one time inside, shattered, beyond repair of human hands, bleeding from wounds of rejection, insecurity, self hatred, depression, and inadequacy. This precious part of me will slow until silent. Oh, this wall will not do. It may have sustained my heart for a short time in my younger years, but the durability needs to be solid and fortified, in order to contain this restored heart of mine.

Let me close my eyes, once again, and rethink this.

This time, there is not one wall, but multiple walls built of dense metals, welded together with only the finest craftsmanship. I take a closer look and notice the shape of the walls have changed. They no longer are in the form of a pentagon, but have now taken up the appearance of a sphere. With each layered wall there is an actual place of entry, unlike the previous one, allowing access closer to the heart but at a cost. The cost for entry is labeled above each door with the titles of friendship, trust, patience, loyalty, commitment, covenant, Christ, love, and other key terms the foundation for a relationship is built upon. With each door that is passed through, entry for the next becomes harder. Unlike before, it’s something to be work towards and not taken for granted. Access is not allowed by force but by patience and understanding. Mind you, character and integrity will be checked at every door, just to test the intentions of the seeker. Only one truly after my heart, not selfish emotions or desires, will get close enough to hear it beat.

I’m very fond of these walls. They’re much better then the one built before it.
I would hope the one seeking after mine would have similar standards for his heart.

Guard your heart above all else,
for it determines the course of your life.
Proverbs 4:23

Just yes.

It’s people like this that continue to give me hope.

Is it me or...

has blogging become just reposts? Whatever happened to just your typical soulful online journal? Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy reblogging, and all the neat features. But we lost the art. What happened to all the inspiring letters, or just a useless blog about how a person’s day went then all of the sudden an epiphany? Or maybe I just miss reading beautiful blogs, beautiful pieces; just learning more about the person through their words, trying to see who this person is and see the world from their point of view. I enjoyed that.

I love watching a person grow through their writing. It’s a beautiful thing. I believe you get to really know a person better through this. The gift of expression. I love it. It’s a way of connecting with people, a really great way. Talk about soulful words. Don’t worry about how the reader feels about you, just enjoy it. So please, to everyone out there; you- continue to write beautifully.

Return

“You can call it a comeback”

Honestly, the first half of 2009, i’ve been meaning to blog. Of course I would have blogspurts on my blogspot, but more so for venting. I guess maybe I’ve had writer’s block? Or maybe lazy? No… More like stubborn. I’ve been searching for my heart. I love you writing, and I guess you can say, I left you.

I’ve been afraid to let people know how I feel through my words. Showing my weakness is probably my weakest trait. So I struggle to write. I write, and I just save it as a draft. Well no more draft saving. That’s because tumblr doesn’t have it! I’m back. Seriously. No more “i’ll start tomorrow…” I miss writing. I miss having readers. I want to pour my heart out again. So much to say, but I don’t know how to say it. Well here it goes.

I guess you could say writing helped me develop my personality, a piece of me. Back in the xanga days, I would write stuff so deep, and I had many readers enjoying my pieces. Then I would go on to rant about how horrible my life was, or all my tough situations. Then I learned to trust God more, to lean on Him. When I took that oath to carry on His will for me, it made me more afraid to talk about how I felt. Showing weakness is my weakess trait.

So slowly, but surely, I want to stengthen this. I enjoy helping and everything, but i’ve learned I can’t hold up the fort on my own, and I have to diminish this image of invincibility because I stumble so much and I hurt more often then you think I do. I feel like i’ve been put in this position to show the people around me that I am strong, though God. To show how much God has worked in me and through me. My heart is beating faster as I type this. I guess He wants me to show my weakness.

So hear it is. My weakness. I know that I am nothing without Him. But what I hate to admit is that I am hurt, that I feel pain alot. Yes I’m another one of those cover-up people that hide it. Sometimes, I stumble and fall. And fail. But know that when it comes to other people’s feelings, other people’s obsticales, and no I am not trying to be boastful, but I know how to fix them. The only problem is fixing mine. Hehe. ehhhh.

Weakness…

I am weak alone, but through Him I am strong.