It's A Love Story

Parts One, two,   three , four.  five.  six. and seven. and eight, and nine. TEN.

Christmas time came round and joy did abound. There were secrets, and wrapping, and laughs all through it all.

Then Christmas day came and the prince came around. The princess' grandma, and family all gathered round. They ate a big dinner. And seconds and thirds. There was talk of the Wii and fun things that they'd learned. They planned for what movies they would watch first. But first they'd get presents, all stacked up by the shelf.

There was a small tree...a Charlie brown tree. With no Grinch ornaments hanging off it, grinning with glee. But it did the job, standing guard over the boxes. The sisters had them all shook and examined, as sneaky as foxes.

The prince opened the ones that they'd got for him, and then handed out what he'd bought with a grin. The sisters loved their gifts, so did the whole clan. He smiled at the princess; that had been their plan. Then he handed her a large box all wrapped up in green, she tore it open, they all leaned in to see. Inside was another box and giggles echoed round. Opening that box a blue t-shirt she found. He'd bought it for her the Christmas before, he'd been too scared to give it to her back then, but not anymore.

Then out of the shirt tumbled a small wooden box. The princess picked it up, and then her heart stopped. She gave a little squeal and it fell in her lap.

The prince scooped it up and dropped down on one knee, saying "Madeline Jean Morrow will you marry me?"

 

 

A Christmas Story

Hi guys! I wanted to get this post in before Christmas was fully upon us, but that didn't work. In case any of you wonder, the character Zacher in this story is the same as the one in the King of Thieves Easter story I wrote last year. I just love the little guy. I had to bring him back again.

Zacher dashed out of the house, tugging his coat into place. "Sorry. I couldn't get away."

Amol rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Never mind. Let's get a move on."

Zacher fell into step beside his friend and quietly waited for his irritation to abate. 

The streets of Jerusalem were empty as they wove their way through the houses and alleys. 

"Where is everyone today?" Zacher ventured after awhile. 

Amol waved a hand toward the west. "All listening to that teacher." 

Zacher swung his gaze in the direction his friend had indicated. Away across several streets he could see the edge of a crowd, all crowded in close together. He could hear a soft murmur of voices, but not nearly as loud as he would have expected from such a large group of people. He couldn't glimpse who had their attention captured, and the mob disappeared behind the houses as he kept walking. 

"What teacher?" He said when it was all completely out of sight. 

Amol shrugged and quickened his stride. Zacher matched it, and kept his gaze fixed on him, not at all dissuaded by Amol's aversion to questions. "That Jesus fellow everyone's been talking about."

Zacher tipped his head, a frown tugging at his mouth. "Jesus...Where have I heard that name before? Where's he from?"

"I just said everyone is talking about him. How should I know where you heard it?" Amol snapped. 

Zacher shook his head. "No, I've heard it somewhere else. I haven't even heard about any teachers."

"You live with your head in the sand."

Zacher raised a shoulder. "I suppose I do. I just try to keep things fair between us."

Amol snorted and pushed him away. Zacher chuckled and kept his distance. "Where did you say he is from?"

"Nazareth." Amol sighed. 

Zacher shook his head. "I know I've heard of him before. When I was young. How long has he been teaching?"

"I'm a thief, not an expert on rabbis. I don't know. Maybe two years now."

Zacher cast a glance back toward where the crowd had been. "Lets go over there. I want to see him."

"I thought we were going to steal things." Amol hissed as he turned onto a different street. 

"We can see what we can find there. That many people, their bound to set things down. Sounds like they're captivated. No one will notice." Zacher called over his shoulder, not waiting to see if Amol would follow. Muttered curses and footsteps told him he was.  

Zacher wove through the buildings to the fringe of where the crowd was gathered. People sat and stood wherever there was room, bags and bundles scattered around as they listened. Zacher cast a knowing look at Amol, who just scowled and lost himself in the crowd. Zacher slid in between the onlookers, being careful not to bump anyone and draw attention to himself. He glanced around for any easy prey and moved deeper into the mass. 

Toward the middle he could finally see the man who had everyone so captivated. He paused to study him a moment and frowned. There was nothing out of the ordinary about him to look at him. He dressed the same as the men around him. His features were soft and caring, and there was an urgency in his voice as he spoke, like he was imparting a great gift. The people seemed to think they were receiving one. Zacher could hear soft sounds of aw and every once in a while someone would whisper excitedly at something he had said. Zacher tilted his head to catch Jesus' words. Loving neighbors, and feeding the hungry. 

A snicker escaped him and he glanced at the man next to him, then at the people around before slowly moving his hand toward his coin purse. Luckily for him someone wanted to listen to such teaching, otherwise he would never be able to get this close. A sudden silence made him freeze and he glanced up to see Jesus' gaze directed at him. His breath caught in his throat and he snatched his hand back, straightening and trying to look like a casual listener. The teacher's gaze never wavered and Zacher wanted nothing more than to shrink down into the dust and disappear. 

As calmly as he could he turned and started weaving his way out to the open. He didn't see Amol anywhere, and wasn't about to wait for him. His breath rattled in his chest and sweat tickled the back of his neck. When he was out of sight he broke into a run and didn't stop until he made it back to his home. 

He leaned against the door post, and waited for his chest to stop heaving then picked his way through the house and out to the back. His father and younger brother sat working on tents and looked up as he approached. 

"You're back soon." His father offered. 

Zacher nodded, trying to find his voice. "I was with Amol. We saw the teacher all the people want to see." He sat and picked up a corner of the tent and absently started to work. "His name is Jesus. Of  Nazareth. I told Amol I've heard of him before." He glanced at his father to see if there was any clue to the nagging memory in the back of his head.

His father's brow furrowed deeply. "He is here in the city?"

"Yes." Zacher nodded. "He was teaching near where we were."

A smile tugged at his father's lips. "I told you the story. Don't you remember?"

Zacher shook his head, casting in his mind for what story he might mean. "No, I don't."

His father set his work aside and brushed himself off. "Then I had better tell it again."

His brother scooted in closer to his father and Zacher couldn't help but do the same. 

"It was quite some time ago." His father began. "Before either of you were born. Upwards of thirty years now, I think. I was a young man, about your age Zacher." 

Zacher tilted his head, trying to remember the story. 

"At the time I was living near Bethlehem. I was a shepherd, and it was the time of year to be out in the fields with the sheep."

"You were a shepherd?" Zacher's brother quizzed. 

Zacher cast him a hushing look and turned to his father to continue.

"Yes." His father nodded to his brother before continuing. "A tax had been issued and there were many people traveling. It was late. The sheep were quiet and my companions and I were resting, when all of the sudden the whole sky lit up like daylight." He leaned forward and his hands spread. "Above us was...well, a man, but not. It was an angel."

"You saw an angel?" His brother cut in. "What was he like?"

"Beautiful," His father said slowly. "Like nothing I've ever seen before. But terrifying. I thought we were all going to die. But he told us not to be afraid. That he had good news. He told us that just a little distance off in Bethlehem that the savior had been born. God's promised deliverer, come to save us." He shook his head and Zacher could see a distant look in his father's eye and he wished he could see what he was remembering right then. 

"I could hardly believe it. I had heard about the promised savior all my life. I believed it but...it always seemed distant. Like it wouldn't happen in my lifetime. But here it was, right in front of me. The angel told us we would find him wrapped up in a manger. That would be our sign." His face lit up suddenly. "And all at once the whole sky was full of angels. Everywhere, too many to count. And they were all singing. It was the most magnificent sound I've ever heard. Powerful and strong, but so full of adoration. Then they were gone as quickly as they had come."

"What did you do?" Zacher asked when his father paused.

"We hurried as fast as we could to see for ourselves what the angel had told us."

"And?" Zacher urged. 

"We saw Jesus." His father said slowly, reverently. "A star had moved over the stable where he was. Bigger than I've ever seen. His mother was there with him, along with her husband. She was just a young thing, I remember. Mary was her name. And her husband was watching over her so carefully. It was just like the angel said. There was a tiny little baby all cuddled in the manger. Sleeping just a peacefully as could be."

He shook his head, rubbing a hand across his cheek. "I can't believe I forgot...I didn't forget really. It's just been so long ago, I don't think about it often anymore."

"Well why would you? Nothing has happened since then." Zacher shrugged. 

 "But it was real." His father said firmly, eyes roaming between his sons. "He opened his eyes when we got there, and I just new. The angel had told the truth. This was the savior. And someday he will save us." 

The Next Chapter

Parts One, two,   three , four.  five.  six. and seven. and eight, and nine.

(Sorry, I couldn't keep up with the fairy tale style pics. This one was too cute! It is the perfect height difference.)

Now where did we leave off...? What was the theme...?

Now I'll stop this pretense, and end the suspense.

We left the princess waiting in the night, when the prince texted and said he and her dad had a fight

"He said we're too young, that I'm not ready for married life. The hours were heated and chuck full of strife."

The princess laughed him off, she didn't believe, till her dad called her mom and told her the same thing. 

The princess felt a panic, this couldn't be real. Was he wrong, was he right, how was she to feel?

Then her dad saved the moment, and called her mom back

"It was all Jarod's idea, sorry for the panic attack."

The princess blew up the prince's phone with scoldings and such. When he called her immediately she didn't talk much.

"I'm going to kill you "she said, "and my mom wants your head.You shaved ten years off of the life she has led." 

The prince he just laughed and tried to convince, that it really was funny, but she didn't agree with the prince. When finally she calmed she tried to get him to tell, what the men talked about it, since it really went well.

"He said that would be fine, and to talk to pastor sometime. And whenever I get a ring, that I'm ready to bring, we can keep moving forward with these plans and this dream."

 He told her all how they'd talked for hours and hours, but communication has never been one of his powers. He could tell her the gist, but sadly that was all, of this grand conversation that he could recall. 

She huffed at him slightly, but took it in stride, she knew more details would come if she'd just bide her time. So she let her dad watch football, and the prince fell asleep, how they could be so calm was a secret they would keep. 

She was all giddy and her head liked to spin, with things suddenly so certain why would the doubts start to begin? They came up with him and with her, over the week, but their love was still sure. Like last minute thoughts to prevent a mistake, but love is a risk, and one they would take. 

And That's My Take on the Matter

It's been going around for years. This big conflicted hype about christian dating. Should you even be dating? No, no you should be courting. Be careful who you date, wait for God to show you the one. Before you do anything, should you even want to get married?

I'm not exaggerating. I spent four years in a community for christian girls from all over the world. The new ideas of Godly relationships were a popular topic. Girls shared things from popular new dating books, things their pastor of youth leader had told them, or even parents. And it makes me sad and disgusted. 

For many of the ideas, they are good things to consider. But as a culture we like to take things to the extreme. Suddenly we swallow the idea that you can't be pure if your relationship is a dating one. And if you date rather than court you are somehow prostituting yourself out. But when I ask these die hard supporters of courting what it is, no one can tell me. No one has given me a clear definition of what modern day courting means. So many girls have taken the idea that we need to allow God to lead us to the right 'one' (a good idea) and taken it so far that when a decent guy comes along and shows interest the girl wont give him the time of day because they haven't heard an audible voice from heaven saying he is their one. And somewhere along the line it became a sin to date someone and end up not marrying them. I venture to say it is a sin to date someone, realize it wouldn't be a good match, then marry them anyway. 

The other day I read a post someone shared about being single. You can check it out here. There was nothing wrong with it at all, so I'm not putting it down. I fully agree that while a person is single they don't need to pine away for a spouse. A single person needs to focus on the Lord and live their life no matter what their relationship status. The post wasn't a problem so much as the commentary the person who shared it had. It pretty much said that people need to not force marriage on people, and was generally very hostile. Now, I understand that some people can push hard for a person to get married. Those parents want grandkids! But overall, I don't see that there is a big push to get married. In fact, I think it is quite the opposite. I think our culture, both secular and christian, is geared to push singleness on a person. Of course, there are exceptions. I'm not saying everyone. 

I've felt it in my own life. People tell me they think I would be a good missionary. A good single missionary, literally emphasizing single. What gives, man? Can't I just be a missionary, period? Or when me and my boyfriend started talking about getting married, we ran into some serious opposition. People kept telling us how there is nothing wrong with being single, and you can really serve God....Um...Yes. We know there is nothing wrong with being single. But...we're not single. And there is nothing wrong with that either. 

Somehow this notion has snuck in that says single is somehow holier. No one really says it, but it seems to hover in the shadows for so many people *ahem* Wrong! 

The Bible does say you can serve God single. I'm not arguing that. But if you take the time to read a lot of what Paul wrote about being single, it says that it was Paul's opinion on the matter, as God hadn't told him either way. It says that! 

The Bible has just as may passages about being married. Favorable passages. 

The point is, there is no cookie cutter answer, one size fits all. God planned for some people to be single, and some to be married. You can serve God fully in both callings. If a person is saved and living their life for the Lord, and they desire to be married to someone who is also saved and walking faithful- or if they don't desire that- there is no sin in either choice. 

As a culture we need to realize we are individuals. The way I serve God with my life may be different from the way you serve God. 

And that's okay. 

Story Time

This story keeps marching, its way 'long through time,

Like the rhythm to the poems she sends him that rhyme. 

Our pair was getting on smashingly, and life was going happily. 

Holiday seasons began to roll in, and more hours were spent with her and with him. 

Long car rides, and then in the dark, he'd reach for her hand, and it stole her heart. 

They'd sit and watch movies, and he'd let her sleep. To expect her to wake wasn't fair, when he kept playing with her hair. One day at her house, while watching tv, he reached and held her hand, for all the world to see. They laughed and they joked, mixed with real plans that they spoke. Of somedays and maybes, and can't wait till thens. 

The year trickled past, the day he'd leave school approached fast. Excitement was brewing. He'd be home at last. 

He called her one night, sounding in a rough plight. Our young princes family had him all in a rile, and worries for the future were stealing his smile.

He attended the parties her family held for the holidays, and she went with him. And she lived for the moments when she'd make him grin. He gave her a jacket, he'd had as a kid. It didn't smell like him, but she wished that it did.

Then they went out for a date, and stayed out real late. Christmas shopping, and ice cream, and silver bands that glittered. Movies and joy rides, his coat stopped her shiver.

He shared her his fears, and his story through the years. Closer and closer, our pairs lives were entwined. It was difficult to bring their lives apart up to mind.

He told her how he'd liked her for some time. He'd got her a present once, back before they ever talked, but kept it hidden away, for fear she would walk.

One day after church she sent him off with her dad, to hunt and to talk about the plans that they had. The day dragged on, and not a word, so you'll have to wait to see what she heard.

Off to War

Hello readers. Today, I declared war. I've spent most of the morning readying my weapons for battle. Not swords or knives (though I have some of those), but lists. 

I don't know if any of you have seen the movie War Room. It is fabulous, and if you haven't you definitely should. Not only is it massively inspirational, but it is just a great story.

Without ruining the plot for anyone, the movie focuses on the power of prayer, and several characters in the story build war rooms- rooms devoted just to praying. They fill them with Bible verses and prayer lists, and document answered prayers.

I know you don't need a separate room to talk to God, but I like the idea of an...intimate, space reserved just for me and him. A special place to lay out battle plans free of distractions. Mine probably wont be a war room. My house is small and all the rooms are being used, and we don't have closets like they did in the movie. But I have a bulletin board in the corner of my room, and I plan to make a war corner. 

In the midst of my life trying to spiral out of control, I've finally arrived at the conclusion that I can't fix it. No matter how tight I hold on, it could all get ripped out of my hands. No matter how hard I scream and fight, it doesn't do any good. I'm not strong enough. I don't have the power. I need the one who is to take control of things for me. He can see the whole picture. He knows where all the pieces need to be. Maybe he is okay with what feels like a catastrophe to me. Maybe he is going to use it to grow me up into something better. I'm trying to keep reminding myself of that as I make plans for my war. I can't fix them. So I'm going to pray for them. These people aren't my enemies. Satan is my enemy. I can let the actions of theses people affect me for good, or bad. That is a choice I have to make everyday.

I need to make my faith my own. I can't keep it up to benefit others. It is for me and God. I have to live my life in a way that God can bless me and use these attacks to make me strong, not break me down. Maybe I'll learn patience. Maybe I'll gain faith. Maybe I'll be able to bite my tongue when people spread lies about me, instead of trying to get back at them. 

In church we read in Isaiah 45.7  

I form the light, and create darkness: I make peace, and create evil: I the LORD do all these things.

God creates evil? It stumped me. But no, God is not the founder of moral evil. He didn't establish murder, lying, and thievery. But he does allow bad times in our life. Hard times, where sometimes bad things happen. And he uses those to grow us to where he wants us to be. 

Nothing sneaks up on God. None of what is going on is a surprise for him. He's got it covered way better than I ever could. So I'm turning the fight over to him. Instead of warring against them, I'll go to war for them in prayer. The battle is the Lord's. 

Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.

1 Peter 5:7

The Mockingjay Movie Review

So, like I mentioned earlier, I went to see The Hunger Games: The Mockingjay Part 2. 

Here are my thoughts on the whole thing.

It was amazing.

The end. 

Have a nice day.

No, but really it was great. I would definitely give it Five stars. 

If you're a book lover like me, you will be satisfied with it, as it followed the books very closely, and didn't deviate in any troublesome ways. 

If you haven't read the books at all, but you've been following the movies, the story continues to flow smoothly so you can understand what is happening without the book to fill in the gaps. 

I screamed in the movie theater. Like, it drew some emotion from me. So that's a five star bonus right there. 

The effects were fabulous. It looked so real and was completely terrifying. The whole thing made me want to bawl. Probably the only thing I would critique is they could have played up Katniss' mental instability a bit more. It was very obvious in the book, and I thought there was room to make a little more dramatic in the movie. They portrayed it alright though. 

As far as anything to be concerned about, the only thing would be the violence. That is kind of a given with The Hunger Games. Nothing too terrible in my opinion. There was nothing sexy and I don't remember there being any language. If there was it was one word maybe. 

Definitely a fabulous movie. Did not disappoint. 

The worst part is that it's over and there wont be any more Hunger Games movies. 

Now what the heck am I supposed to do?

Let's Talk Turkey

Well my lovelies, did you survive the turkey holiday? 

I hope so. 

It would be tragic to lose a reader to food coma. 

(sorry, I can't help but think of this kid whenever I say let's talk turkey. He liked to run around saying that. As well as things about Mongolian hoards and eating cats)

My Thanksgiving was insane. The whole week was, really. Saturday, Minion one turned sixteen. Presents!!

Sunday, Daddy-kin turned fifty. Presents and cake!!! We invited grandma and Jarod over. 

For some reason my mom made turkey. 

She made turkey, the weekend before thanksgiving. 

When we would be eating turkey. Go figure. 

After evening church that day I went to Jarod's house and we continued the Hobbit\Lord of the Rings marathon we have been having. (Just got one movie left!)

I'm loving the movies. So glad I finally got to watch them. The only downside was that I've been waiting all along to see the death of a certain character because I couldn't remember how it went in the book. Well...I fell asleep. I stayed awake for the beginning, and for the ending, but the middle part I zonked out. And of course, characters always die in middles, so I slept through it. When I questioned my skinny man on why he didn't wake me, he said he tried, and when he did I curled up and said "Jarod, stop" in a real small winy voice, so he just let me be. Dang it. 

Then Tuesday came and we packed up several kids and took off to go watch The Hunger Games: The Mockingjay Part 2 for Minion 1's birthday. It. Was. Fabulous. 

I will be posting a movie review. 

Thursday was snowing and blowing and we were all pretty nervous we were going to get stuck with a big pile of turkey when no one showed up to eat it. But, four-wheel drive and some capable men in the family pulled through. I went with Jarod at noon to his cousin's house. And we had turkey and all the fixings, and played a card game called Golf. I had never played it before. It was rather fun. And I scored higher than Jarod, which is really all that matters in life. 

Then we headed back to my house. In a vehicle like this. 

These things are not warm when it is snowing and blowing. At all. 

But anyway, we got there and my aunt, uncle, cousin, and grandma were all there. So we ate turkey and all the fixings again. (We'd taken about two hours to digest)

Then we watched movies and visited. The movie was For Greater Glory. 

Everyone I love dies. Typical. But a very good movie. 

Love this guy...he also looks creepily alike to one of my cousins...

Once my relatives all packed up and left we discovered cows out in the yard. Upon further investigation we also found cows all over the road, in our trees, on our hay field, and meandering down the canal road. 

So us and Jarod spent half the night chasing cows around. And I broke the window on the Geo. So it was even colder. We did eventually get them all in and Jarod went home at midnight. I went to bed, but dad and mom fell in a hole while checking the fence, so I had to take the other pickup and go pull them out. So I didn't get to bed till closer to two. 

Then that Saturday I hauled Jarod to my mom's side of the family to meet my aunts, cousins, and grandma. We ate turkey and all the fixings. 

All in all, it was a fun thanksgiving time, and also a very exhausting one, and I'm not at all hungry for turkey or fixings anymore. 

Buckle Your Helmets

This is it guys. It's getting serious. Tomorrow officially kicks off the Thanksgiving Weekend. With lots of people getting out of school and work and heading off to see families, it is a busy time. (Except me. I only get Thursday off. But I still intent to party like its 1621 in the evenings and the actual weekend. I'll fill you in on all the festivities next week. If I'm still in functioning condition. My sleep tank has been down on E all week leading up to the holiday craziness. It could be dangerous. 

Speaking of danger, keep a weather eye out. Turkey causes sleepiness. Couple that with excessive amounts of pumpkin pie and apple cider and you're shaping up to get a food coma. So, instead of stuffing yourself fuller than the unfortunate bird that is thawing in my sink, I have a suggestion. 

Pace yourself. 

You've got five days until Monday when you are expected to rejoin the world. 

So eat. Then pause for like, ten minutes. 

Then go back.

Remember to take a break. At least five minutes between servings. 

There will always be food left. Your six foot tall cousins wont eat all of it and leave you starving. 

Just give it two minutes before going back for more. The whipped cream will stay fluffy for that long. Seriously, if you wait like thirty seconds between meals, you'll feel much better. 

Really. 

A Poem

I love writing poetry. I love how they can be so vague but so profound. When you read it and you just know there is a deep, soul filled meaning behind the words. I love the way the words flow, almost like water.
I usually write poems for Jarod. I'm not sure why. It's probably silly. My dad used to write poems for my mom when she was in college, and I do for Jare now that he's gone. He asked for one once, and he liked it, so it just became habit to send one with his letters.

I finally got around to writing him a letter the other day and I was trying to think of a poem to go with it. I have one that I tried to finish, but its a song, not a poem, and it just doesn't flow right when you're not singing it. (And I'm not about to do that)

So I drew a picture instead. I do that sometimes. It makes him laugh. It was a ridiculous one with flowers and a little lovey dovey quote. It would have made an outstanding tattoo. I could always get a job as a tattoo artist if the optician business doesn't pan out. Anyway, I drew it, and thought it was ridiculous but I liked how it turned out, so I decided to send it to him just for kicks and giggles, and then I had a thought flash through my mind of his roommate seeing it. He puts everything I send him up on his bulletin board for all the world to see. But some things he specifically shows to his roommate. And I did not want that.

And a moment of inspiration struck. A poem jumped into my head. 

It was just so profound and raw and inspiring that I had to share:

Yeah, you may be the love of my life

But show this to Austin, I'll kill you outright. 

It's Beginning

Knock on wood. I'll say its beginning and it will end immediately. Let me rephrase that. 

I think I might be starting to possibly. 

So what is it that may or may not be happening?

Writing.

I pulled out an story tablet the other day, and I sat down in the evening while watching tv, and I WROTE.

Like...maybe half a page. But I worked on it for over an hour. I had to go back and read a chunk of what I had wrote previously to try and figure out where in heck I was going with the story, and what the characters names were, and where on earth they were located at that point in time. 

It was intense. I find I dislike my writing from eight months ago when I closed the book. Inspiration to press on and finish it I suppose so I can live to edit the darn thing.

It was my Purpose story that I was working on, by the way. I find I still rather like the story. And I see so many possibilities for it. 

Have I wrote anything on it since that night?

Nope. 

Not one lonely word.

But I've packed the tablet around with me everywhere. Just in case. It's always in the back of my mind. It's growing. It's like a wisdom tooth, just below the surface. You can feel it, it's just not quite ready yet. Then, all of the sudden, it will break free. 

....That was prolific. Not. 

Story

Parts One, two,   three , four.  five.  six. and seven. and eight

We left the princess in higher moods, and soon the regular patterns resumed. 

They had tiffs and tats, and made up real fast. Tractor rides, and mechanic work, and escapades trying to cook. 

On the night of All Hallows Eve they ventured to the bowling lane for pizza with her minions. Out the door he went in shorts, t-shirt, army boots, and cowboy hat.

She laughed a bit, caught a selfie or two, and prayed to heaven they crossed no one she knew. 

Then after food they continued on, and touched base on her grandma's lawn. They knocked on the door and cried trick of treat. The look of horror on her face...I'm sorry, it was great.

The next weekend the princess set off with the girls, to spend the night with movies and frills. She nearly cried driving on, bypassing his house, they had a good laugh over how ridiculous that sounds.

He texted her late, and they snap chatted a lot. In the morning she killed time writing him a letter like a sop. 

She acquired a cold, but went to see him anyway that night. Standing out in the yard, auguring corn in the bin, he came and gave her a hug, and a perfect kiss- how long it had been. 

She rode in the truck with him for a while, then evening came and they went to the house. They watched the football game, their team won one for once. Then she must have fell asleep because he woke her up later. 

"You should head home, so you don't fall asleep. I'll keep you awake, until you get home."

Of course the hero fell asleep when she left, then woke to call her a few miles from her house. He talked for a bit, then she heard him drift off, she giggled and drove home and crawled into her bed soft. 

The next day was terrible. She felt awful and sick. Deciding to stay home or go out was a trick. He urged her to come, then pressed her to stay. So she stayed curled up on her couch, so he didn't get sick that way. 

He called her four times, the night before he left. It was a dismal weekend, but the next one they'd see each other more. They made plans for the holidays, on where they would be. There's rumors of excitement, but I guess we will see. 

Then on into the week the princess got a message. 

"I'm sick." 

Of course she felt bad, but on the other hand, she hadn't forced him to kiss her, and he'd wanted her around. 

"In sickness and in health" will be practiced and abound. 

The Aftermath

As you may have heard, I attended a sleepover last Friday.

It was quite fun. 

Quite ridiculous.

I arrived just in time to eat way too many mini tacos, following which, we made an attempt to teach our pastor's wife how to use her remote to access Netflix. 

We abandoned said attempt and I commandeered the remote to be run on my own terms. 

We watched Black or White, which was a fabulous movie if you excuse some language, and consumed ungodly amounts of pop and popcorn. Then at about 10:30 our hostess took her leave and went to bed, and somehow three out of the five of us girls decided that Thumbelina was the cartoon to watch.

That movie came out the year before I was born. I grew up loving it. I had a crush on the dang fairy prince.

So...

I of course had to sing along to every dang song in the show. (except that horrible concoction the dang swallow sings. I hate that one)

One friend hung around for all of ten seconds before she took off for saner locations. 

Come 11:30 we all started to get pretty tired. We're not hard core all nighters. 

So we stayed up just long enough to sing along to the Marry the Mole song. 

I went to bed on a sleep number bed that most definitely did not have my number. In a room full of dolls and teddy bears. And I'm sorry, I just kept thinking of Chuckie. 

Ya feel me?

I texted for awhile, then finally decided to go to bed, at which point the kids down the hall decided to start screaming. 

Not sure why.

Don't care.

I put in earplugs like a responsible adult and fell asleep.

I then woke up at five. Which is so much fun. Luckily, this trip I had acquired the WiFi password, so I blew up my poor snapchat friends with pictures of creepy dolls, and me with no makeup on. 

When it was a respectable time to get up I woke the minions and we went upstairs. We all decided to eat cereal. Then, midway through our bowls, Janice broke out the frozen waffles. And the English muffins. And the eggs. And the sausage.

....Second breakfast anyone?

The conversations were interesting. They ranged from deeply spiritual, involving purity, marriage, ministry etc. to the hierarchy of the bug world.

Here is a quote:

Me: Beetles are like the con men. Spiders are just the big dumb hit men carrying out orders. But beetles are the brains behind it all.

Minion 1. This is what happens when we stay up past ten. We start discussing but ranks. 

All in all, very fun.

I left feeling pretty good, thinking I got to sleep at one in the morning. 

One friend trumped me, claiming to have gone to her room at two.

My minions and their little elfin friend?

They took the cake.

4 am.

Slumber Party

Mmmhmmm. This is exactly what it looks like. 

I, the great 20 year old optician, have been invited to a slumber party.

It's for all the girls from church, as our pastor is going to be gone for the week. So we are loading up and invading his house and going to have a high old time with his wife. 

Technically speaking, I'm going so the other girls have a ride home, as none of them can drive.

But the deep dark truth of it is- they all want me to come. 

Jarod even wanted me to go. He overheard my minions talking about it and grinned all crooked and informed me that I better go to that. 

Then later when I said I was debating going he informed me that I need to go and spend some quality time with my sisters. 

....

It's time to partay!!

Of course, when he realized that it was this weekend, and I would in fact be gone, during the weekend, when he is home, when I would normally be with him, and that I wouldn't actually be with him, that he wouldn't be able to see me, that I wouldn't have cell service or internet...

he began to question his life choices. 

Too bad for him.

This isn't the first Pastor is Gone Sleepover I've attended. We had one last year too. That turned out rather nicely. Watched an odd combination of Maleficent and The Ghost and The Darkness. (I feel so naughty when watching movies and I am able to run the mute button with so much proficiency that onlookers who have never seen the show before wonder why it randomly goes quiet for certain instants and then comes back.) 

We ate ungodly amounts of popcorn and candy and stayed up waaaay too late. I tried to go to bed at a respectable hour, but minions think it is perfectly acceptable to sneak into my room, and steal my electronics and- get this- leave the light on when they leave and think I wont notice.

Based on last years results, I think this weekend should be fun. 

I'm a bit worried however. 

You see, I've been screaming. 

In my sleep. 

A lot.

For three nights in a row I have either screamed or yelled out random stress filled sentences. 

I don't really want to do that at a slumber party. 

I have no control over what I say when I'm asleep. 

What if my subconscious betrays me??

The horror. 

Dear 25 Year Old

This is kind of a wild hair I guess, but I was reading a post by Mackenzie where she wrote a letter to herself in five years. For some reason, it just seemed really fun. I'm not even sure why, or what purpose it is supposed to serve. I'm not doing the Blogtober challenge. I'm not even sure what it is, frankly. As I was reading her's however, I kept thinking of what I would say in mine if I wrote one, then at the end she went and asked what her readers would write to themselves, so I just had to take the opportunity.

So. I letter to the 25 year old version of Maddie.


Hey Maddie- Yo, what up man? I hope you haven't sunk so far that you don't call girls 'dude' at every opportunity. 
By my calculations you should be twenty-five now. You're kind of an old grinder. 
Please tell me that you have dyed your hair some form of pink in that length of time. 
So how old is little Amos? Probably about three, huh? Is Henry on the way then? I'm sure they're super adorable little hellions. 
Do you still have the Impala and have you hit any deer with it? The only way I would possibly forgive you for denting that car is if it was on a massive buck deer and you didn't damage the horns. They better be mounted somewhere to sooth my heartache. 
What house are you living in? Did you end up in town? Have you mastered how to write Madeline Jean Wilson really pretty? You sure practiced it often enough. 
Hopefully by now you have fully mastered how to cook without calling grandma every ten minutes. And I sure hope you got up some gumption for creativeness, because my Pinterest diy board is filling up fast. 
Do you have a second set of holes in your ears? There is no excuse not to. 
At twenty five, I will disown you if you haven't gone to Winter Jam yet. And you better have saw a NeedtoBreathe concert. 
Are you and the Minions getting on better now?  
Two questions: Did you go to Alaska? And, are you broke?
I kid you not, you better have finished your stories by now. And at least one of them better be published or I'm going to disown you and get a new future self. 
How's the world? Still scary? Press on mi amigo. 
What is it like being a twenty five year old fangirl? Are you teaching my kids to love awesome books and movies? Have you cultivated their musical tastes to perfection? Please tell me some good books have come out during the years. And that all these miserable boy bands and vampire stories have passed by the wayside. 
Do you have a room for your guitars and posters? I hope you have a room for them. I'd be sad if they just sat in storage. 
Hopefully my life is going well for you. I'll catch up with you in a few years.

You rock,

You -5. 

Just a Note to Say

Hello lovelies!

So no, I don't have a hard set topic to yap about at the moment, but I wanted to drop in and let you know that I am capable of writing rhyming posts about princes and princesses that may or may not be based on yours truly and a certain someone. It's just kind of hard to come up with good material when you everything you think of is somehow linked to that one topic. But, I shall endeavor....

 

...Not sure why that makes me laugh so much. But it does. This guy supplies the funniest parts in the movie.

 

Anyway, moving on.

 

I've been feeling an itch lately in the back of my mind to get writing. I've even ventured on to pinterest for things besides wedding dresses and budgeting tips and I've pinned a few things that reminded me of my stories.

BUT,

Every tie I open up one of my latest works, I got nothing.

Zilch.

Zippo.

Nada.

 

So...I've been toying with the idea of starting a whole new story.

I know, I know. As soon as I do that the others will fade into oblivion, and I'll never finish them no matter how many times I promise myself I will. I still love those stories. But I can't write them. I don't know if I can write a new one either, but I'm so tempted to try.

So tempted.

What do you guys think? Not to quote my little movie clip up there, but "Think about it long enough". Do I endeavor to finish, or endeavor to begin?

 

Work is going well. Some new girls have joined the team who are closer to my age and we get along quite smashing. Next month I have to take a test to be certified as a...well its a Paraoptometric, but don't ask me what that is. Basically a piece of paper that says I am certified to do the job I do, I guess. Everyone tells me it's easy, just a lot of vocabulary words...

I'll have you know, I hated vocabulary words in school just about as much as I hated algebra.

 

We've also been on a war movie kick. First we watched Band of Brothers...

Which took a week because it's like a six DVD movie.

Now we have started We Were Soldiers.

Now, I love that movie. I've been begging to watch it for like...years. For real. And my whole family told me we didn't have it. (nonsense!) So I went and bought it. Brought it home and resumed begging to watch it. No one was in the mood. For months on end.

Last night.

Dad says to get it out.

Everyone agrees.

.....

 

What?

 

Hmmm, what else is new and noteworthy, since I'm writing you guys a note?

I've been getting terrible headaches every day, and have a chiropractor appointment next week that will hopefully cure it for me again.

I was offered a partnership by a nine year old to join her in building a company just like Justice, only for big people.

Because what adult wouldn't wanna?

 

Besides that, I learned to run a grain cart this year, and we got harvesting done by ourselves instead of hiring anyone, which was kind of cool.

Worked calves the other day and have a hand full of fiber glass now. It's all good.

Had a completely black bruise on my left knee, but the completely pale right one is the one that hurt like mad. Go figure that one out then let me know, please and thanks.

 

And....My sisters are going out in as this for Halloween.

 

                          Minion 2 ^                                                  Minion 1^

Well, I think that about blasts you guys up to speed on the regular parts of my life. Adios!!

 

 

 

Out of the Ashes

Parts One, two,   three , four.  five.  six. and seven.

 

 

Some time flew past, then the princess composed herself at last. She sends a warm thank you out to the ladies who commented on her last post, and set out to move on with the tale.
At times things were still stiff, the pair had a small tiff, but somehow their spirits seemed to lift. Harvest had started, landing our princess in a tractor, but still she made it to the prince each night after. They didn't always talk, he'd just hold her real soft, and the quiet moments helped things to heal.
He ventured back to college, and their lunch time texts soon resumed. He'd call her each night to study Philippians while tucked in all tight, and hope returned that things would be alright.
The earrings he got for her birthday were a favorite at work, and the t-shirts were cute and so cozy.

Our prince and princess decided that though some things were uncertain, and the future looked scary, they'd keep pushing through; it was a load they could carry. They would do what they wanted, devil take the scoffers.
He got her a present, a glass cube with his face, a creepy thing for sure, but utterly cut and silly.  So she started searching for Christmas gift ideas.

And the young gentleman's father was having a wedding of hi own, in the far of land of Arizona. It was a nerve racking affair, so the prince asked her to join him down there, she said yes, though she's afraid of the air. It took some debate and some convincing, but they got the agenda pushed through, so now she had dress shopping to do.

Dark Is the Tale

Parts One, two,   three , four.  five.  six. 

This tale just keeps growing, you've taken it well, but now dark things are lurking in this tale I must tell.
To our prince and our princess, all seemed quite swell, all the plans they'd been making fit together real well. Some folks probably suspected, but they were waiting to tell. They thought they had it all planned, it was the perfect fit, but the storm clouds rolled in, when they let their thoughts slip.

Not all took it as well, as the pair hoped they would. Details they'd thought minor began to boil and swell. How could it go wrong? They'd covered all topics. They knew where their train went, those folks could get on or stay off it.

But saying you'll make it, and proving its so, are really quite different. It's a long row to hoe. The princess felt sick, her world caving in. Where she thought she was safe, she found dragons in friend's skin. They tried to work through it, he told her it would be fine, but things didn't seem better with the passing of time.

They attended the fair, and she got him to smile. Deep fried cookie dough soothed her soul for awhile. But the tense nerves were still there, the conversation was stiff. Fear boiled in the pair, to be handled in their own ways. The princess sent prayers, and felt numb through the days.

When the big farm show came they thought they'd have fun, it was nice to walk around, hold hands in the sun. His friends were around, and my how he'd dote. It made the princess happy. Out of the mire her heart would float.

Then it was back off to school for the prince, and work for the princess, the phone calls kept steady and the plans formed back again. Maybe all would be well. The fear kept inside they started to share, and it certainly helped to have it out in the air. The two of them could face it, they'd make it, they'd stand. "I love you," he'd whisper, and reach for her hand.

One night the prince called her, he'd had a long talk. Their plans were getting shoved away farther with every tick of the clock. He didn't know what to do, or know where to turn. Her heart was crushed and terrified, and bitterness wanted there to abide. They tried to talk it through, cling to God and one another. Talk to people they could trust, put on a smile, not a shudder. What should have been aimed at the scoffers became a rift between the two. He was scared, he wanted to hide. And she was scared, she wanted to fight.

He came home from school on break, they hoped things would be fun. But they've been stiff and busy all along, and his week is almost done.

Inside My Mind

Slipping through my fingers

Falling in the cracks

All my plans and promises

I'm scared I can't get back

Fires licking at my hopes

Unhappy, choking schemes

Stealing away all my sleep

Making nightmares out of dreams

Terrors rising in my chest

Trying to keep at bay

Whispers saying they know best

As they steal my love away

Friendships crumble into ash

Betrayed drips from the smiles

Never knowing who to trust

As the journey gains more miles

Hope has fled away from me

Disasters looming nigh

Thoughts scream out in the night

Please don't let these plans die 

A Bit on Princes

It has come to my attention that while you know quite a bit about me, you don't know much at all about the prince in this story. And I don't know about you, but I much preferred Sleeping Beauty to Cinderella, for the main reason that we got to know Prince Phillip, where Charming was mostly a nameless, nearly faceless mystery. And while a bit of mystery is good in a story, so is some backstory.

So, I present to you, a study on Prince Jare. 

Born in Nebraska, he later relocated to Arizona (it took some time to get used to Tuscan calling  her phone) where he lived with his father until the age of fourteen, when he moved back to small town Nebraska to live with his aunt. 

If you would ask the prince, he would say that he never noticed our princess at all except to think she was odd. And he only started liking her in December, and he has no reasons why. 

But if you listen to the prince you will hear that he noticed the first time she wore makeup, never did like her purple shirt, and always watched her in choir but she never looked back.

He has many things in common with the princess' favorite book characters, which is sometimes good and sometimes bad. His is all brooding, broken, injured, and reserved. He is charming, boyishly awkward, confident, and strong. Our prince has Will Herondale's terror of love, Murtagh's relationships, Four's attitude (and fear of heights). He makes hasty decisions like Gale, an has more whit and sarcasm than all of them combined. Just like all of them, he has somehow managed to lay all of the rougher pieces aside and give the sweetest love and affection to an ordinary girl, with all the awkward curiosity of a little boy trying something new. 

Our prince is an eternal contradiction. He says he doesn't like horses, but beams when he says he's never been bucked off. He despises cows, but takes videos of little baby calves named Elmer. He says he doesn't like cowboys, but he always dresses like one. He's bound and determined to live naturally off the land, but he's addicted to the air conditioner and only eats beans from a can. He doesn't like sweets! Just Mountain Dew, ice cream, brownies, cookies, and candy. And he'll never shave again...until he wants Maddie to think he looks dandy. Of course he can cook! Just not when you're there. He likes your hair any style, just don't put it up. He's set and determined to smear her makeup. He says he's not scared, but so often he is.

Semi trucks and straight pipes make him light up. He's a bit of a clean freak, especially in his shop. Everything washed and all put away, one tractor will take the boy all day. He wears old t-shirts with the sleeves cut off. Wrangler jeans, till evening when its shorts and flip flops. He likes to comb his hair backward, and his eyes are blue. He's six foot three, and likes getting letters in the mail. He constantly teases, but insists he's all business. He's a pretty good shot, and will only fish from the bank. 

He insists he's not tired, and in the next breath he's asleep. Don't let him lay down if you have something to do, because he'll never get up and it'll be left just to you. In a tractor he can do pretty much anything, always covered in grease, the guy is never clean. 

He's older than her by five months or so. He likes to sing, but can't hit the notes. And if you ask him he does everything the best. 

He tends to exaggerate, and overreact, but this princess wouldn't change any of that.