August 23, 2012

These Days

These days
Things are a whirlwind:
Somewhere between the normal 
And the hectic.
My brother's wedding was beautiful.
*
*
{Photo by Randy Lavorante}

*
*
Sophie's last picture as Ms. Tally.

*
*
{Photo by Randy Lavorante}
The bloke in the center is my brother,
A fact that didn't seem to stop the many cat calls and whistles we received as we marched back down the aisle.
*grin*

*
*
I was finally able to meet my newest little nephew.
Huck likes what most infants like:
Eating,
Sleeping,
And occasionally shrieking
(Just to remind us all that he's there).

Now that all the family has left,
Gone back to their respective 
States,
Homes,
Jobs,
Things seem eerily quiet.
*
*
Preparations have begun for school:
Middle and high school for my siblings,
College for me.
It feels so surreal to be packing suitcases,
Buying dorm supplies,
Saying goodbyes to friends I never really thought I'd leave.
I have been so blessed this year:
Last Summer 
-Post graduation-
Should have been my last one before the proverbial "growing up" of college,
But it was spent battling an eating disorder,
And what little I remember are things I'd rather forget.
This Summer,
However,
Has been everything I could have ever asked for and more.
It's been sunshine, adventures, music, friends, and all kinds of joy, many of them purely incandescent and entirely perfect.
God is good.
And for all this Summer's imperfect perfection, 
I am ready to move on into the coming school year
(Because let's face it, ready or not, it's coming).
And I'm not only excited 
(Nervous, and absolutely deer-in-the-headlights frightened)
About boarding that plane on Sunday,
I'm truly looking forward to it.
Summer may be over, 
But life has only just begun.
Also, I drew a barcode on wrist the other day, and I think it turned out rather nice.
*
*

August 16, 2012

Project Heal

One Year.
Three hundred and sixty five days.
A hundred thousand small moments and big tears.
How do you measure a year in a life?
A year ago,
 I stepped into my therapist's office for the first time and chose recovery.
A year ago, 
I saved my own life.
A year ago,
I chose recovery,
And set off on the hardest journey I've yet to make.
*
*
Savannah, 
Sophie's sister,
 Is an exceptionally talented photographer,
And was more than happy to help me out with a celebratory photo shoot as a sort of therapy assignment.
This is what 365 days of life looks like.
*
*
*
*
This is my favourite dress. 
It is also too short for me to take to my college this Fall,
So I've been wearing it as much as I possibly can before I leave.
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
I sometimes almost always have trouble being serious.
*
*
Recovery is definitely a one-way, no stop road.
*
*
Mysterious and strange fireplace of stone,
Overgrown by weeds,
Covered in Ivy.
I swear it's a portal to an enchanted world.
So I did some ballet on top.
*
*
(This is an infinitely cooler duck pond than the one I sit at situated near my home.)
*
*
*
*
*
*
My recovery playlist includes:
1. Songbird: Jillian Edwards
2. God is Love: Innocence Mission
3. Thread: Trae Miller
4. The Cave: Mumford and Sons
5. Lions!: LIGHTS
6. This Is War: Ingrid Michaelson
7. Why Waste More Time: Rosie Thomas
8. I Was Made For Sunny Days: The Weepies
9. Whole Wide Word: Mindy Gledhill
10. Brielle: Adam Young
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
*
I love this lady, and can't wait for her to be my sister.
(Only two more days!)
*
*
*
*
Sophie once referred to me as being her girl crush. 
This is us flirting. 
Or something.
*
*
*
*
*
An eating disorder is a mask.
It covers up everything you don't want to see,
And distracts you from dealing with the things you don't want to do.
It's a way to hide and a way to cope.
Dude:
I'm done with wearing masks. 
*
*
*
*
Recovery isn't fun.
Recovery isn't noble or valiant or an easy road to travel.
Recovery is letting yourself cry.
It's allowing yourself to be imperfect,
Realizing you don't have to be the best at everything,
Blameless,
Perfectly molded,
And perfectly poised
To be loved.
Recovery is accepting and moving on.
Recovery is falling apart,
Relapse,
And then more recovery.
Recovery isn't a road you walk alone.
There are friends,
Family,
A whole net of support there to catch you if,
And when,
You fall.
Recovery can only truly be achieved through the help and love of Jesus Christ.
It is He who recovers our souls and loves unconditionally.
It is He who heals and gives strength to carry on.
Recovery isn't easy,
But it's necessary.
And the farther I travel the more I begin to feel that it's worth it.
And so,
Perhaps,
Am I.
*
*

August 13, 2012

Simple

Simple
Is made up of a hundred thousand not-so-simple things.
It's a light machine
Moved by cogs and pistons unseen.
*
*
Simple
Is a beauty so alive and magnificent 
It leaves you breathless;
And yet comes so silently, 
You are not aware of its presence until it is there,
Almost gone,
Passing through and ever forward.
*
*
Simple changes.
What was Simple a year ago
Is no longer what Simple looks like today.
*
*
Simple is a feeling,
A thought,
An idea,
An ideal.
We strive for simplicity,
But it is rarely something to be caught,
It is something we find.
*
*
The best things are Simple.
Simply happy,
Simply loved,
Simply radiant,
Simply peaceful.
*
*
These days I am discovering the purest, simplest of joys,
More and more,
Day by day.
It's something I catch in the rising sun each morning as I read my Bible,
Those moments when the house is still and I am alone with God.
It's tangible in the feel of cold damp grass, 
The shade of a tree,
And a good book to go with.
It's given in conversation with a friend,
Miles away,
And yet so close.
*
*
These days harbor more than light,
Less than pain.
For every ounce of sunshine,
Three of joy.
*
*
We live in a world of 
Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust.
Well,
Come with me and I will show you beauty in a handful of dust. 
*
*
{All photos courtesy of Pinterest and Weheartit}