Packet of Wildflower Seeds

After this crazy snowstorm, people have been saying "be careful what you wish for" as they tease everyone who hoped for a white Christmas. We got a white Christmas - and then some. Even though wishes and prayers are very different things, they share some characteristics. While we should also say prayers of gratitude and spend time listening for God's response, a significant amount of prayer is dedicated to asking God for things. In a way, we are telling God all of our wishes. Does God grant wishes? More broadly, does He answer prayers? If He does answer prayers, when does He do so, and in what manner? While our faith may provide clues to the answers, we obviously cannot know them with complete certainty. I have enjoyed many deep conversations with friends as we worked through our ideas together. Most of my thoughts on the matter are made up of questions. If God does, indeed, address prayers directly and intervene in our daily affairs, does that mean tragedies occur ...

When looking for the poem in my previous post, I sifted through many other works written in high school. In some, the intention was very clear. In others, I had to consider the date and context to tease out the meaning. Such was the case for the following poem. Before I share the work, I'd like to provide some background. I was fairly lucky when it came to my high school class. It wasn't the stereotypical situation in which popular girls picked on everyone else. Yes, there were "cool girls," and if you weren't friends with them, you wouldn't be invited to their parties. If you sat next to them in class, however, they were usually rather friendly. Also, to be fair, they weren't invited to the parties my friends threw, either. I'd say our class was made up more of "friend groups" than "cliques." There were some exceptions, but as a whole, everyone was pretty nice. And yet, I was still bullied in high school. I'm sure this is ...

I want to write at least one post - probably more - detailing what the experience of anxiety is like for me. I want to be thorough, though, and I haven't had the time to sit down and really reflect on my words. In the meantime, this poem from 2002 gives some insight into the feelings and conflicts with which I struggle. Anxiety can feel like I'm running a race, even when I am not going anywhere. It can feel like I'm fleeing something, but I've fallen, so I'm afraid that something will catch me. Anxiety can feel like I'm weighted with chains. It feels heavy, like it's harder to move with such a burden. Sometimes, it's hard enough just to breathe. Anxiety can ruin my sleep. Sometimes I have nightmares so vivid, the next day is a challenge to face. Sometimes, it's so overwhelming, nothing seems worthwhile, and I just want to surrender. “Chronology of a Failure” Running, breathing, spinning, falling It catches up to me It’s breathing f...