*lights the scented candle in the middle of the table and sets a coffee mug in front of you*
Today we’re starting a series on this blog, and I’m calling them Coffee Chats with Amie, where I share my heart, and hopefully impact yours at the same time. Today the weather is awful, so I’m so glad you came anyway. There’s tea and hot cocoa in the back, in case you’re not a coffee drinker. So make yourself comfortable.
If you follow me on all social medias, you know I’ve been inactive a lot lately, and if that’s concerned you, thank you. No need to bother your little head over me, but I appreciate it more than you know. Life is a strange thing. Sometimes you feel the need for it to just stop, but you can’t make it. There’s nothing about life that you can grab and force. It’s just a whirlwind that keeps going, sucking your breath from you and forcing you to your knees.
Okay, okay, yes. That’s dramatic. I am an artist, after all. You have to expect some drama from me.
But truth be told, I’m struggling. And you might be, too. That’s what this blog has kinda become. A place where I want struggling people to find hope and someone relatable, hence this coffee chat. In this world of covid and unrest, it seems as if there’s no way to connect with people, especially when it was crazy hard even before all this stuff. So I’m taking a moment to write this, so we can connect. So we can chat in the comments about the topics in this blog post, so that you know you aren’t alone.
I honestly don’t know how to follow that up. 😂
I guess it just shows that life isn’t an essay. It doesn’t have an informative and intriguing introduction, it doesn’t always have a clear and full middle. And it almost never has a good conclusion. That’s why I write. Because I can control that. I ca give myself a lovely introduction, and my middle can be as full and as clear as I want.
And the conclusion?
I can write any thing I want.
Control is a strange thing. In a really good song by an amazing artist (yo, NF fans!), there’s a line that says “I wanted to control things and in the end that’s what controlled me.” Each human being on this planet is searching for some emblem of control. That’s why the teenage girl has an eating disorder. That’s why the almost twenty-year-old boy cut his hair and wants to dye it. That’s why the parent is being hyper critical, and there are so many other options.
But I guess control is ironic because liberty means freedom from control, and freedom means . . . being able to do whatever we want whoever we want. (i.e. in control). We can never feel freedom unless we have no one controlling us . . . yet we always want to control ourselves.
What a mind twister.
The world around me seems so silent as I write this. People are driving by the house, going on to do whatever is next planned on their Saturday afternoon. My keyboard clinks as I type, and I just know one thing.
We need Someone to control us.
I could ramble on and on about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness in the chat, but I don’t think I will. I hope you come next time to Coffee Chats with Amie.
Well, guys. This isn’t going to be the usual Crazy A post. Probably because I don’t feel like the usual Amie. I’m going to be brutally honest about my life right now. Brutally.
I’m not doing this to receive likes, or for sympathy. I’m doing this because someone out there is going through something similar, and they need to know that they’re not alone.
I’ve hinted that my life hasn’t been easy. Since March I’ve been struggling with things. I’m not going to give you a whole run down on everything because that would take too long, and you would be bored by the end of it.
But in March, I just kinda lost my drive. Lost my want to do anything. I lost me.
And that was the scariest thing that had ever happened to me.
There’s this part of me that’s outgoing, bubbly, fun-loving, and takes everything in a stride. It felt as if she was frozen inside of me, and instead of pushing me onward, dreaming huge dreams, and having ambitions, she was a heavy weight that pulled me down in the sea of life.
And I was afraid she wouldn’t come back.
I didn’t want to get up in the morning, and I ate constantly, hoping that eating would help her come back. She came back for short snippets, but I felt so alone, so lost, and so empty.
During this time, my dad was having tests because the doctors had noticed something wasn’t right. At the end of March, he went in to have a scope of his pancreas, which led to pancreatitis, and a rushed visit to the ER, which ended with him staying in the hospital for a week.
A week in which my brother and I were responsible for watching my siblings.
The day that my dad left for the hospital, I cried like I haven’t cried in a long time. I was scared and I was mad. The part of me that was frozen, dead-weight was heavier than ever before. I tried calling my best friend, but she didn’t answer, and I felt so alone in that moment.
But here’s the part you need to know before you feel sorry for me. I chose to be alone. My siblings were downstairs. Most, if not all, of them came upstairs to check on me. My three-year-old sister hugged me, but I sent her away.
I have this strange idea that I have to protect myself from other people loving me. I have to keep myself to myself, and just be a happy friend, a listening friend, a loving sister to the people around me. And when I’m hurting, or alone, I should keep to myself. No one wants my emotional baggage, right?
We weren’t born into this world to live alone. A quote that I love by George MacDonald says, “The desire to be loved–which is neither wrong nor noble, any more than hunger is either wrong or noble–and the delight in being loved, to be devoid of which a man must be lost in immeasurably deeper, in an evil, ruinous, yea, a fiendish selfishness. Not to care for love is the still worse reaction from the self-foiled and outworn greed of love.”
I’m selfish, because I believe it’ll be easier for everyone involved if they don’t have to take care of me. My mom and I were talking about this the other day, and she made a good point. If someone loves you, one of the ways they want to show that is taking care of you, even if that’s only listening to how you feel.
And that night, or a few nights after, I was able to have an amazing talk with my best friend. She listened to me, I let my guard down, and she cried with me. And honestly, that made the whole week so much easier than it would have been otherwise.
She confronted me, and told me that I was living in fear. And she was right. I was afraid of change. I was afraid of what might happen with my dad. I was afraid of people hurting me. I was afraid of being me, and I was afraid of being honest about how I felt.
My best friend is a prayer warrior, and honestly, I can’t thank God enough for putting her in my life. I honestly wouldn’t know what to do without her good morning text. But even a good morning text didn’t keep me from disappearing within myself.
When my dad came home, he was so weak from not eating for a whole week. My mom was stressed, which was expected, but my home felt charged with electricity. I felt in the way and like I was just stressing everyone more, and so I left to stay in my room.
The next day was April Fool’s, so I was stupid and joined a prank online that failed. The joke ended up annoying and hurting people. It’s all forgiven now, but that night I stayed up until one, wishing I could cry, but not being able to. I hurt so badly because I had hurt other people. It was also too late for me to talk to anyone, and so I didn’t tell my parents for two or three days. It just hurt.
That Tuesday I felt like the world was smushing me. I wasn’t feeling well due to allergies (I had them so bad this year. *groans*) and I just didn’t have the desire to live, or to do anything. But you know what? A friend sent me a playlist of songs, and as I laid on the floor of my room, I listened to truth. Just plain, beautiful, truth. I didn’t heal all the way, and the me I was missing didn’t come home, but the fact that they actually sent me those songs meant a lot to me.
(Music is such a personal thing to me, that when people actually send me songs, or care what I listen to, it means so much.)
I don’t talk much about my music on my blog. It’s a part of me that’s like an emotional release. Similar to writing, but to me music is more personal. And I haven’t had any energy or desire to be serious about it. The beginning of this year, I arranged three songs, and I played dozens of songs, but the past two months have been a dry spell.
I didn’t feel the need to play music. I didn’t see how it would fit in my future, and I didn’t see how it was benefiting myself or others. I was tired of trying to do everything, and tired of being me.
Actually, I was tired of trying to be me when the person I always thought was me wasn’t there.
I felt like I couldn’t talk about it because there wasn’t anyone to talk to. My mom saw something was wrong, and I can’t begin to say how thankful I am for her pulling it out of me and listening to me.
And then I had an asthma attack. I’ve never had “asthma,” though for the last two years I’ve had trouble breathing, especially in the spring/summer months. I spent a whole morning panting, because I needed to get through church. When I almost passed out, I let my mom take me to the urgent care. Thankfully, they cleared everything up and now I have the medicines I need.
But not feeling well depressed me even more. I just want to disappear, but again, I couldn’t let people know how I felt, and so I just kinda pretended I was okay to all my friends. I’ve never understood depression, I don’t know if I would say I was depressed, and so I didn’t want everyone to think I had something wrong with me.
I stopped eating because I just didn’t want food. Food didn’t taste good to me; I was unhappy, and I was mad at myself for being unhappy. And so I was just in a deep hole, and I didn’t know how to get out.
During this time I got so many encouraging emails from my newsletter followers, and from friends. But doubt crept in, telling me that they didn’t know the real Amie. If they did, the wouldn’t love me any more. They wouldn’t care for me. They wouldn’t say those nice things or try to encourage me.
But I’ve fought the lies. People in my life DO care. And they want to show that they care by loving me, and by helping me out and praying for me.
My dad has been diagnosed with cancer, and my life has been rather on the strange side as my whole family tries to take care of him, and each other. I’m trying to stay optimistic, to keep the me that has been frozen alive. I’m forcing myself to keep on top of the things I’ve committed to, and forcing myself to answer people, to pretend everything is normal.
But not everything is normal.
My life isn’t normal, and I’ve got to accept that. There is no such thing as “normal” in the way that we think. It’s something that everyone strives after, and someday we all have to accept the fact that there is no normal, or else we’ll live very unhappy lives.
The past week I’ve opened up to more people about my life at the moment, and so many people have begun praying for me and my family. I’m hungry again, I’m happy again, and I’ve learned something.
We don’t hold the key that lets us out of ourselves, out of our depression, but we hold something even better. We have the Bible, and that gives us the key. If you’ve never read the Bible, if you’ve never spent time in God’s word, I would encourage you to start.
You’ll never really be happy and at peace until you meet the Prince of Peace. For He gives us the peace that surpasses all understanding. (Philippians 4:7)
What’s up, y’all? The spring weather is really kinda annoying me. It’s too hot for long sleeves, and yet too cold for short sleeves. I guess this is the weather for quarter sleeves, but I’ve never found much use for quarter sleeves. There’s only about four weeks out of a year that you can wear them where I live without getting too cold or too hot.
Anywho! That has nothing to do with todays post, but the weather is important to Amie, and it sets the mood, so it needs to be addressed. Now that Mr. Weather has duly been noted, we may continue.
Today we’re talking about things that Amie somehow gets wrong. Almost EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
It’s rather embarrassing, to be honest, but also humorous, so Amie has decided to embarrass herself in this post. The only way she can get through it is by talking about herself in the third person, so don’t think she’s lost her marbles. (She actually lost all her marbles when she was nine. They fell out of her pocket when she was walking, and a few went down the drain. Rest in peace, my her dear marbles!)
Ready to get started? (This is a rather long intro.)
Okay, numbers shouldn’t be confusing for Amie, right? She’s dreamed multiple times that she couldn’t remember the number, and was panicking because she needed it. 911 is super complex to remember. It’s 9-1-1, but those three numbers can become 1-9-1, or 1-1-9!
Amie always second guesses herself to make sure she has it right when it comes to any numbers. Amie isn’t always the best at numbers. 5 usually becomes 50 and 3 becomes 6 when she talks.
2. Pint Sounds like Pinto?
Amie says she is able to say read languages, but unable to speak them, which has been a problem for her her whole life. Pint somehow ends up like pinto, Quebec sounds like Q-beck, and so many other words are spoken as she thinks they should sound, instead of what they actually sound like.
At least she doesn’t lisp anymore. 😉
3. She still needs a sippy cup?
The song above about explains Amie. Once a day, she misjudges the distance between her mouth and the cups, and a beverage spills on the front of Amie’s shirt. Thankfully, she doesn’t drink grape juice. 😉 Just coffee and water. (Though coffee stains are hard to remove…)
4. The keyboard
Apparently the keyboard doesn’t like Amie. She often reaches for an exclamation point, and ends up with 1. Or she forgets about holding shift, and < and > show up throughout her typing. Imagine how terrible it would be if Amie didn’t edit her posts!
Pants can be hard to wear, can’t they? Especially when you’re excited to face a new day, and so you jump up and try to pull it super fast, except you end up doing a split. Amie has a hard time refraining her excited nature, and so it often ends up coming out in the weirdest times. Like, pulling on pants. Or dancing in the parking lot at church.
Amie’s never claimed fame when it comes to spelling. Especially since so many words in the English language don’t sound as they spell. A strange fact about Amie is that she can’t pronounce a word she can’t spell. Odd, isn’t it?
It takes a lot to teach Amie how to spell a word, but she’s proud when she gets spaghetti and pancreatitis right. Don’t forget about how hard it is to spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. (And she didn’t have any help from spell check!)
7. Toilet Paper
Amie has absolutely no care which side the toilet paper is on. Like, does life really hang on the matter if the toilet paper is over or under? To Amie, life just hangs on the matter that there is paper.
8. Right and Left?
Amie has inherited from her mom a disability. The inability to know the difference between right and left. It cripples her ability to give directions, and to understand which way to write b and d. (Thankfully, she overcame that obstacle.) Now, she wears a ring on her right hand to know, but it still takes her a second to look down and tell you if you should turn right or left. (So if you ask for directions, you’ll get a lot of hand motions. 😂)
Okay, guys. I tried to think of ten things, but I can’t for the life of me. Except for something I only occasionally get wrong. I obsess over cutting hair, and for the most part, I’m pretty good at it. Like everyone else, I have some pretty bad stories behind me (*cringes*), but today I kinda destroyed my brother’s hair. And he’s still mad at me. I tried a mohawk, but it looked like a drunk barber was trying to recreate the leaning tower of Pisa. So, now he doesn’t have much hair.
And that’s all for today. Can you relate? What are some things that you get wrong?
YOU? The bubbly, energetic girl who always has a thousand ideas, is told non-stop she’s good at a million things, and the same one who is always making others laugh?
Yeah, me. ‘Cause I’m not the girl I just described. I’m also the girl who can’t pronounce pint right. I’m the girl who is often hurting people’s feelings with my sharp tongue, and hurting my siblings during the regular rough house. I’m the girl who trips over her words, messes up the piano piece, falls down for no apparent reason, and I’m the girl who just can’t get anything right.
I often battle with my worth. How can a worthless girl have any worth to God? How can a girl who has no talent to boast of stand before the King of Kings? What can I do to serve Him who gave His life for me?
Those thoughts and a million others chase themselves through my head at eleven at night after a terrible day full of a crazy amount of work, some discouraging emails, and the thought that I might not be cut out for life after all. Sometimes I just don’t have the courage to even open my Bible, because I know during that time I’ll find the verse that says,
“As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one: There is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God. They are all gone out of the way, they are together become unprofitable; there is none that doeth good, no, not one.”–Romans 3:10-12
After reading that, I would be about to cry. Because I know I’m not righteous. I’m a failure in everything I try to do for Christ. I often ignore my conscience, and I sin a lot. When I think of all that, often my heart fails within me. Because for me there must be no hope.
But that’s not true. There is hope.
“But now the righteousness of God without the law is manifested, being witnessed by the law and the prophets; Even the righteousness of God which is by faith of Jesus Christ unto all and upon all them that believe: for there is no difference: For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God; Being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus:”– Romans 3:21-25
Praise the Lord, God doesn’t count my righteousness, He counts my faith in Jesus Christ. There’s no difference between me and a murderer. But for the mercy of God, I’d be out there killing people. We have all sinned, and failed in the sight of God. Me, your neighbor, you, and the famous person you watch on TV. There’s no difference between us for,
“The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?”–Jeremiah 17:9
But we have the chance to be justified freely by God’s grace through redemption that is in Jesus Christ.
My worth to God doesn’t count on how much good I do, how many toys I donate to Toys for Tots, or how many times I can sing a song in tune. My worth is through Jesus Christ. When you or I are discouraged, it’s time we
“Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”–James 4:7
We need to resist the devil. The devil is alive and well, and desperate to catch us in the slough of despond. The only way we can make a difference in this world is to stand up and acknowledge the devil’s real, and resist him in Jesus’ name. No other name will quench those thoughts in our minds. We need to live our lives in a way that we can say with C.S.Lewis,
“My hope is that when I die, all of hell rejoices that I am out of the fight.”
May we live like this today and everyday. Remember, Friend, your worth isn’t in what you do, or who you are. If you’re a true believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, and rest on Him alone for salvation, your worth is in your Savior, Creator, and King.
And welcome to another pros and cons post! If you checked out the other post here, you’ll know I have a plan to make this a series. Anyway, today is the pros and cons of…Being tall! Yep! I thought about doing one about being short, but I’ve never experienced that, so I just decided to go with this one.
As an intro, I am roughly six foot with boots on, so I am tall for an American gal. I usually like to add a ten gallon hat though, just to make me look taller. 😉 Anyway, on with this post!
You get told the same thing ALOT!
“Wow, you’re tall!”
“Oh, you actually are tall!”
“You’re a giant!”
Okay, this is actually one of my pet peeves, but I’m getting over it. It’s not like people say to short folks, “Oh, wow! You’re short!” And why does height have to correspond with age? I don’t know, maybe that’s just my experience. Let me advise you and do a favor for all other tall people. We know we’re tall. You don’t have to tell us. We’re told that more than enough. This is a real con, though. 😕
You don’t have to climb on stools or counters.
I can reach a lot of things. My mom and random people at the grocery store get me to reach for them. I often forget how smaller people reach things. The other day I saw a friend climb up on the counter to reach the cups and I was like, uh, what are you doing on the counter?
Her answer? Not everyone is tall or blessed with long arms. I guess I’m super blessed. 😉
You have big feet.
Yes, this is a con. The bigger your feet, the harder it is for you to warm them! They’re all the way down there…And all the way out there. Anyway, also for me as a girl, it’s hard to find shoes that fit. I have narrow, long feet. Yep, I wear guys shoes. My running shoes are a men’s 12. No, I’m not kidding. Someone actually passed them on for my brother, and I said, “Sorry, they’re mine.” I think the poor person was thunderstruck I could actually fit them. My boots are all men’s 11. Welcome to the world of big feet! You’ll never wear heels either. Who wants to be six foot two? Also for this con, you’re called Bigfoot all the time. My mom affectionately refers to my feet as boats. 😂
I don’t know how many times I’ve been stopped at conferences and stuff to be told, “Wow! You’re tall!” Or “I like your hair.” Or “Nice boots.” I’m like a whole head taller than most ladies or more, so I guess I’m pretty noticeable. Anyway, it’s a huge benefit. Also, you always read books about tall people being imposing and leaders. I hate being the leader, but the idea of being imposing sounds nice.
You’re told/asked some strange things.
“How’s the oxygen up there?”
Yep, that’s really been asked me before. Recently I was told that I couldn’t be a pediatrician because I was too tall. I guess I would scare away the kids?? Anyway, this is a pretty weird con, but a con none the less. I honestly don’t want to be a runway model, or a basketball player, and no, I don’t think volley ball would be up my alley. Olympic swimming? Not exactly what I plan for my life. Can’t I just write or act? I’m too tall for acting? Okay, well, it seems my dream has just bit the dust. 😂 Yes, I actually do like being taller than your brother. No, I have no clue how I’ll find a husband. I’m not sure if being successful really has to do with height, but if it does, I seem to be on my way to success.
Maybe y’all get the idea? It’s been going like this for my whole life. And just because I’m taller than you doesn’t mean I’m older than you.
People are wary around you.
Okay, I’m not sure if this is a pro or a con, but it is what it is. I’m usually left out of the cliques and stuff because the saying, “Birds of a feather flock together,” is true. Guess who I talk to the most? Guys around six feet tall. 😂 I just follow my brother around and talk with the guys he talks to. I’ve learned a lot about shotguns, politics, and other stuff that way. But shorter people usually don’t look me in the eye (Must be uncomfortable to look up) unless I’m sitting down. I must be scary. 🤔
Do y’all think I’m scary?
Clothes being too short…
Yes, this is so real. I ordered this dress, and it was to the person’s shins in the picture, but on me it goes right about the knee. It’s true. Finding jeans, PJ pants, or leggings that don’t show my ankles is really hard. Here’s a tip I use. I just look and see which pair of pants are dragging on the ground when they’re on the racks.
Dresses are the hardest, though. It’s kinda sad, because I like dresses, but it is what it is.
Always being able to see over people’s heads.
At plays, in lines, and just standing there in a crowd…You can see a lot that a smaller person wouldn’t see. I never have the problem my friends complain about when they say they can’t see over this person’s head. But then I feel sorry because I’m the one causing that problem to someone else. Doesn’t that make you feel bad? I mean, just put yourself in my shoes. (Haha, they’d probably be too big for you). I usually try to remind myself that it isn’t my fault…
Hugging short friends.
Guys, this is awkward. Most of my friends are 5’2″ give or take a few inches. When I go to hug them, I have to conveniently drop a few inches. It’s just really awkward for me. That’s why I go by a no hugging rule…Unless you’re my BFF. I’m always like, please let’s just get the first few minutes of meeting old friends and hugging them over. Also for this con, I’ll throw in slouching. I know a few other tall girls who slouch, and it is SO easy to do. I’m not kidding. I sometimes find myself doing it when I’m with a group of people that aren’t over 5′. It’s hard being a foot taller than most people.
I’ve run out of pros…So I’m going with a con for pro number five. Well, if you enjoy pain, this might be a pro. (But who enjoys pain?). I’ve had growing pains for as long as I can remember. I can see a lot of sleepless nights in the past. Here’s a tip for all of you who hate popping pills and think they’re tough enough to live out the pain. You’ll be a lot less tired the next day if you just take some ibuprofen.
And that about sums up being tall! Comment below what you want the next pro and con post to be. Also comment if you’re tall, or if you want to be tall after reading these comments. Have a wonderful weekend.
Hello! It’s Amie at ten o’clock at night with my little sister, Rose (She’ll talk in italics). Right at the moment we’re hyped up with some REALLY black coffee (thanks to me, of course. I’d probably put the army to shame.) and I had the bazar idea to write a blog post instead of writing my book. Rose is giving me her time instead of reading, so please clap for Rose.
Okay, we need to answer some of the weirdest questions online. Let’s look up weird questions. Okay, Rose, do you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?
Yeah, as long as it has nothing to do with boys.
Don’t worry, I’m not into boys. They can stay outside at ten o’clock at night.
Okay, I’m fine with that.
All right, time to look up these questions.
What is the funniest name you have actually heard used in the real world?
Ah, that’s so just lame.
Wha? Did you just call me lame? YOU JUST CALLED ME LAME? Are you serious? I can’t believe that! You’re so nice. If you call me lame one more time, I’m leaving this post.
I didn’t call you lame, I called the name lame.
What do you mean? The name’s not lame, it’s strange. Who would humiliate their child like that?
I think the funnest name I’ve heard in real life is…Tootie. It’s just a little strange.
No, no no! You should do Matthew’s name.
But that’s not a real person named that.
Oh, well, too bad. Flowing Sewer is a lot funnier.
Okay, next question.
If your five-year-old self suddenly found themselves inhabiting your current body, what would your five-year-old self do first?
What do you mean? I’m not understanding. Oh my goodness. I don’t know! Give me a minute.
Would you like me to answer?
You answer first, and I’ll think about it.
Okay, I would be very disappointed with myself at the moment because I haven’t been partying, and I don’t have a boyfriend. For some unknown reason, I thought my age at the present to be really old, and I wanted to have a devoted boyfriend by the time I was this old. But, I do not want a boyfriend, and I’m not even old enough for one. So our ideas change, and our ideals.
Oh my goodness, Amie! Are you serious? I didn’t think you were that bad. You wanted to party with boys and get in trouble? I am ashamed of my older sister.
Hey, you haven’t told your story yet, and mine’s not that bad. I need more coffee.
I have no idea. I seriously don’t know. I never thought of that before. I can’t think. Maybe just go roll down a hill?
That’s not even a confession like mine.
Oh, you didn’t say a confession! You didn’t say I had to tell a confession.
Apparently I’m the worse out of us two. Okay, next question.
What is something that everyone looks stupid doing?
Looks stupid doing? *thinks* I can’t say anything that will offend people.
Don’t worry, I say all that already on this blog.
Mm! Stupid looking? So…Stupid looking…Probably wearing their PJs in Walmart. They look so stupid, and who would be stupid enough to do that? They’re just wearing tank tops, PJs, and slippers. That would hurt my feet. I know that’s not funny, at least not as funny as yours is going to be, but they do look stupid.
Okay, um…I’m embarrassed to say what I’m thinking…
Okay, I’ve only seen people do this a few times, and it’s not something I would do. But–I can’t say this.
You got to! At least say something else.
Okay, fine. It’s not my fault.
Don’t get offended people who read this. This is a ten o’clock thing we’re doing, and people say weird things at night.
Okay, so it’s weird and stupid looking when–*laughs*–Um, when teenage girls put their hands on their hips and do a little dance. And sometimes they have their friends help them…Does that make sense?
Um hmm. I can see it. You’re right. That’s really stupid. If you’re a Christian girl, you shouldn’t be doing that…Or even if you’re not a Christian, its just not right. It’s so immodest.
All right, next question!
What is something that is really popular now, but in 5 years everyone will look back on and be embarrassed by?
I’m not sure! But either tattoos or um, wearing bikinis.
Wow, Rose, you didn’t give any slack. Okay, mine are going to be more generic. Either the eyebrow trends on Instagram, or the droopy lip make-up art. And, if we’re saying for the guys, it’ll be the pants that go down to their knees.
No, down to the ground
Usually it’s not that low. But at least it’s going out of style.
Remember what I told you I saw on Pinterest? How in 2090 guys will be dragging their pants behind them in a wheelbarrow.
NOOO! You didn’t tell me that! Let’s see if we can find it on Pinterest.
Apparently the fateful day is even sooner than we thought. But! We were successful in finding!
Okay, next question.
If animals could talk, which would be the rudest?
Gasp! Rose! We actually AGREE! Hold, everyone pause and notice the extreme rarity of this moment. My younger sister and I actually both think the rudest animal would be CATS!! It’s a miraculous moment!
I love kitty-cats and all…But, just the way they act. *Shakes head*
Hmm, we don’t have much debating on this question, since we both agree it would be cats. Comment below if you dare disagree with us two sisters. IF YOU DO….Dun dun dun!
What are some things that are okay to do occasionally but definitely not okay to do every day?
Hmm, ah, this is a hard one! This is really hard! Ummmmmmmmmmmmmm….Uh, Amie, you go first!
Not drinking coffee everyday.
Yeah, but I don’t drink coffee everyday.
Thou art not human.
Ah, c’mon, some people hate coffee. Isn’t that better than hating coffee?
Those that hate coffee are from planet mars. Sorry.
Ah, that might offend someone.
What can I say? I am not politically correct.
This is ten o’clock news, and that’s why Amie’s not in her right mind. Ignore her. What’s the question again?
Um, I’d say eating out, dancing, partying, having a grand ole’ time, and dancing in the rain.
Hey! Having a grand ole’ time you can have everyday, but all the rest are good, so I’ll go with them.
Such are the pains of being the older sister. The younger sister always follows.
Oh, c’mon. That’s not true! Calling all younger sisters! you don’t always follow your older sister, do you?
Okay, before they can answer, let’s move to the next question.
What is the weirdest thing you have seen in someone else’s home?
Oh, that thing at Aunt Bertha’s house! It was kinda like a bust without a head, but it was VERY immodest, and it was supposed to be a guy. It was so terrible, I won’t say anymore.
Okay, besides what Rose has said, I always find it weird when people have fake ivy in their house, and baskets everywhere. I just don’t see the use. I would have musical instruments everywhere, and lots of comfy chairs.
And coffee stuff?
And coffee stuff. I’d probably have twenty million dirty coffee cups lying around.
Don’t exaggerate so much.
Okay, I stand corrected. Maybe just one million.
*Chuckles in delight*
I can understand a hundred. That would take up a whole cupboard, but you are that messy.
I am not messy. Just a little unorganized. *cough*
You’re not the only one. Look at my desk. I clean it up and it just clutters itself up.
Yeah, maybe we should move to the next question before we start talking about our bedroom.
Oh yeah. Let’s move on. I’ll be glad to avoid the bedroom.
Who do you know that really reminds you of a character in a TV show or movie?
Oh oh oh! That Reed dude (you know who) who looks just like…Oh, what’s the actors name? William…William…What’s his last name? Mosley!
Oh! He was different.
But didn’t he look like the actor?
Yeah, sorta. I still think William Mosley looks a lot nicer.
Ooh, I hope he’s not reading this blog post. Ouch.
Oh, me too. Don’t tell him about this blog post.
I promise not to tell our mutual friend. Okay, anyone else?
Let me think…
I’m thinking too. Uh…
I don’t know. If you would call Mr. Ed an actor, he looks a lot like Cody.
Let’s see if I have a picture of Cody, and we’ll ask our dear followers their opinion.
Um, Cody’s missing the blaze, though
I just noticed that.
Anyone else? Like, they don’t have to look like them, just act or sound like them. I can’t think of anyone.
I can’t either.
You want more questions?
Sure, if this post isn’t getting too long.
No danger of that. 😉
What is the most embarrassing thing you have ever worn?
You go first.
Okay, so we used to pretend we weren’t good girls, and so we’d dress up in naughty outfits. I think the most embarrassing one was when I put on a dress three times too small for me length wise, but I was always so skinny, that it fit like it should at the top. But it was so incredibly short, that it isn’t even funny. But something I’ve worn in public would probably be a dress that we got from the thrift store. It was from the 60s, I think. Anyway, I might have a picture of me in it, but I’m not publishing it. I stopped wearing it once my brother told me I resembled a banana slug in it. I’ve been told many things by my brother. Once he kindly (not) told me to consult the color wheel if I ever wanted to look good in clothes. I’m obviously not good at fashion.
I don’t know. I’m not sure how things look on me. Maybe a short dress I’d wear with fake high-heels and earrings. It was pretty bad looking, but I thought it was really cute.
Remember how we used to pretend we were homeless–
Remember the time when mommy wasn’t home and we got into the box of shorts and skirts we weren’t supposed to be in?
Well, it really was a bucket with sewing projects. We bought short skirts and shorts to turn into skirts with longer bottoms. Anyway, they were really short and we would play bad things with them.
They weren’t bad things, we just pretended we went to college.
We made a video, but we deleted it because we didn’t want mommy to find out we had put those things on.
Ahh, now we finally confess.
It was pretty embarrassing now that I think about it.
Okay, next question?
If you were arrested with no explanation, what would your friends and family assume you had done?
Uh, I don’t know, what do you think? You’re the one that would assume what I had done.
Uh, I’d probably think it was a mistake, just because you’re so good. I’d be the one to go to jail, not you.
Seriously? I can’t believe you. You’re not that bad…But when you were little you were.
Man, thanks a lot, Rose.
She didn’t want me to become a Christian, so there.
That was only because I didn’t understand that Jesus could be a Savior to all people. I wanted Him to be only mine.
How selfish! but you were only like, seven?
Nope, I was six.
Oh, okay. I was close!
Yeah, but back to the question. Do you want me to answer first?
All my family and friends would think I accidentally murdered someone. Because I’m not careful with sharp objects, and I love playing with movie prop knifes and swords. And movie props are still sharp. Usually I’m not entrusted with sharp objects.
She flings them about and pretends to kill imaginary foes!
Yep. That’s the truth. The hard, cold, steely, I’m going be put in jail for murder, truth.
Don’t be silly. For some reason I think people would think I went to jail for a party.
Nope, I’d think you went to jail for driving drunk.
OH MY! I can’t believe you!
I was just joking!
I’M NOT THAT BAD! I don’t ever want to drink! HELP ME!
I’m not killing you.
So, next question.
Okay, two more questions and then I think my followers will have enough of us.
Amie, it’s almost eleven o’clock.
Exactly. Anyway, next question.
What would the world be like if it was filled with male and female copies of you?
That’s terrifying. I think I would try to get out of the world as fast as I could.
Well, what would it be like?
Uh, I said terrifying. Now, what’s a long word that’s pretty much terrifying? It would probably be me running around screaming, “get away from me!” I’d bolt the door, and windows, and chimney. It would be terrifying, especially if they were all males.
Okay, Rose, that’s different. Well, I think the world would be a hot place.
What do you mean hot?
Well, both in looks and in temperature.
I’m dying from laughter. I can’t stop. It’s not even that funny of a joke. Oh, my, my sides ache. But, seriously, I think it would be full of arguments, because I’m one that will argue to my last breath for what I think is right, or wrong, and so there would be a lot of murder, and war, and the world would be terrible.
That’s terrible! But they’d all be thinking the same thing.
No, they’re like me, but they aren’t me. They have similar processing. I think the male copies would be in fist fights every day, because I literally sadly actually fight. Like, physical fights, whether I’m asleep or awake. But the female copies would disdain everyone else. And everyone is cocky.
People, Amie seriously fights herself in her sleep. She wakes up with scratches and stuff she didn’t have before. She used to fall out of the bed all the time before we got a bunk bed.
Don’t tell embarrassing stories.
Well, this is supposed to be an embarrassing post. She was a terrible sleep walker too. She almost fell down the stairs tons of times.
Yeah, let’s move to the next question.
Wait, it’s going to be the last question. *Tears up*
Yep, sorry to break the news, guys, if you’re been enjoying this post.
I don’t know if I can bring myself to do it.
C’mon, don’t be emotional. Get to the next question. I’m the emotional one.
Tell me about it. Next question!
If you were held at gun point and told that if you didn’t impress them with your dance moves you would be killed, what dance moves would you bust out?
Oh my! This is serious! Amie, go first. This is crazy.
Okay, so I’m huge for coming up with the craziest dances.
Tell me about it.
So, I have this really weird rap almost dance that I do for my family. It starts real slow, and I do the music to it, and then it goes really fast and kinda turns into a dance like the Peanuts do. It’s on the strange side. It ends with a Dab (dance move). It’s pretty crazy, and I’d probably be shot, but I’d be kinda glad to die.
Okay, Amie, that sounds weird.
I’m getting into my philosophical mood. It’s the fifth mood after coffee.
Okay, I need to tell them my dance. If I knew how to do backflips, handstands, summersaults, and…What’s that thing called, Amie?
UMMMM, I know what you’re talking about.
But they might not know. Cartwheel! If I knew how to do all that, I could do a really cool dance.
You know, I might just do the worm.
Oh, Amie! That would be hilarious! I might do that at the end of mine.
And we would probably be shot.
Well, that’s the end, folks.
If you would like to have another one like this, please leave a comment below. We really want to do anther one.
Goodbye! Farewell! Auf Weidersehen, adieu! To you, and you, and you!
She’s had too much coffee. She’s singing her favorite song again….
One day…Just that one day…What a wonderful day that will be.
I know of many people that dream about a certain day. Someday they’ll meet the perfect guy. The guy that makes them feel loved, the man that’s attractive to them, the man they want to live the rest of their life with, and then they’ll get married. On their wedding day they’ll wear the prettiest dress, and everyone will be so happy. And it will be wonderful.
And then the happily ever after comes in. They’ll adopt a child together…Or maybe they’ll serve in Africa together…Or maybe they’ll just live in a cozy cabin with their three perfect children.
But that isn’t what will happen.
Just because a guy (who’s a sinner too) hitches his life to yours doesn’t mean all your problems will disappear. In fact, even more will pop up. You have to make sure his clothes are ironed, and his food is prepared. You want the house to be clean, and the dishes washed. He has his problems that he wants your help with.
Life won’t be easier. And you aren’t making life easier for you now by dreaming about that time later in your life.
Expectations ruin relationships.
Yep. Someday you might meet a guy that might marry you, but if you expect him to be superman, or Prince Charming, you’re both in a fix. He won’t appreciate all your expectations, and you won’t appreciate his. You are both sinners, and once you’ve tied the knot, his sin will stick out even more than it has before.
Wait for the first year to wear off…Suddenly, he isn’t perfect any more.
But let’s talk about the present. When you’re dreaming about this man, you’re not keeping yourself pure. Your dreams are taking you and making you desire that love and affection. Soon, you’ll be in a pit you can’t pull yourself out of. You’ll be running away…Far away from your parents, your family, and your home.
Philippians 4:8 says, “Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”
But I’m just dreaming about the dress. That’s pure, right? And definitely lovely.
What if you never get to wear that dress? What if you remain single all your days? Will you still love God? Will you still trust that he has what is best for you in his mind? Do all things really work for good for them that love God?
Of course all things work together for good for them that love God. Once they make it into heaven, everything is good. Everything. But are you making it to heaven? Do you believe Jesus Christ came down to earth, died on the cross, and came back to life. Maybe in this life, we will be bombarded with trials, sins, and sorrows, but once we pass over Jordan, none of that will matter. We’ll be with God…Forever.
Will that one perfect day matter then? What will you say to God when he asks you about all the seconds you wasted dreaming about that day? Each second costs something. We only have so many, and God will call an account of each of the seconds. What will you have spent them on?
Maybe I’m a bit late. Okay, I’m always late. If I had know that yesterday was National Sibling day, I would have written this post earlier. But…It’ll come around next year, right?
I’m one of seven children. Wow? Did your eyes pop out? Haha, I’m used to that reaction. Do you want to know a secret? Lately I’ve been wanting even more siblings. Why? Well, I love my siblings. They’re my best friends, and my work team. We work together, talk together, laugh together, and live together. Without my crowd of siblings, I’d be lost.
Since I love my siblings so much, does that mean we get along perfectly? Of course not! I’m often fighting with my little sister, or getting upset at my little brother. I even get annoyed with my older brother! (I’m second oldest.) But if you ask them for forgiveness for getting upset, it doesn’t matter in the long run.
What ticks you off about your siblings? For me, it could be my toddler sister scribbling on my laptop. Or my other sister cutting my doll’s hair without asking me. Or maybe it was as simple as my book going missing and I know one of my siblings took it. Didn’t my sister Rose say she wanted to read it?
How do we resolve what ticks us off? First, we must stop assuming it’s always their fault. One of the wisest things my mom tells me is, “Blame yourself.” Two words that are so hard to live out. How can I blame myself? It was their fault! Maybe because it takes two to argue.
Fine. I’ll just keep my mouth shut. I’ll let my anger bubble up inside. Don’t do that either. One sure way to injure your relationship with your sibling is to harbor anger. Before long, you get angry and start throwing around hurtful words. The longer you simmer on your anger, the angrier you will become. Trust me, I’ve tried it.
What if you have blown up? What if your sibling won’t look at you? What if they’re hurt…because of you?
My advice is the hardest, and yet must rewarding thing you can do. Humbly stand before them and tell them you’re wrong. Because you were. Whether they had provoked you to anger or not, you got angry and sinned.
In First Corinthains 13, Paul says, “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way;” Do you really love your sibling, if you’re looking at this verse? Are you patient and kind with your little brother? Do you strive to be respectful to your little sister? Do you always insist on your own way, or do you let your sibling pick their way?
Paul doesn’t stop there. What? He’s already given us enough to do! But, no, he keeps going. “It (love) is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.” How often do we snap at our siblings? Or are resentful because they can do something better than us. Do we ever rejoice when our brother finally makes the wrong choice? Mom will finally see he’s not the angel child!
We can’t do the things above in our own power. We need the power of the Spirit working within us. In our own strength, we will fail–miserably. But, Paul said in his next letter to the Corinthians, “for when I am weak, then am I strong.” Why? We are strong in Christ, for He is our strength and our song. Our hope, and our rock in the time of storm.
Without Christ, our life, our relationships, and our world would be hopeless. Thankfully, Christ came to earth to save you…and your relationship with your siblings. Stop now and pray that you will have the strength to do what is right. Go to your sibling, and ask them for forgiveness if you’ve wronged them. Start on a new slate. A good relationship with your siblings will pay off. I’m sure of it.
Today is Saturday! *does a dance*. And today I’m coming home from Nashville! That’s right! I’ve been in Nashville almost all week, so I’m sorry if your comments haven’t been answered. I’ll be back today, so your comments will be answered.
Can you believe it’s time for another description challenge? I am so ready. What’s the challenge/prompt this time?
Write about your worst injury
Ewww, gruesome! Just kidding, this won’t be gruesome. I’m actually not a rough and tumble person, so I only get one major injury a year, and minor ones every other week. Let’s hop into it. (Wait–You have never had a major injury???? You mean, you’ve never sprained a limb? Or suffered frostbite?)
Wait! I can’t decide? Should I do highest pain? Or most gruesome? Or most recent? Ya know, let’s not do blood…so let’s do highest pain.
Amber grimaced at her feet–well, her foot. Pressing the toes, she flinched. They were red and hard. Chapped, Amber told herself. Squeezing about half a thing of lotion on them, she stuffed them in her socks and climbed into her bed. That night, like the last two weeks, she flopped and turned in bed, trying to think of anything besides the burning sensation in her feet.
(Fast forward two months)
“Well, you frostbite is looking better,” Amber’s mom said, poking her toes. “Why didn’t you tell me you had it?”
“I didn’t know!” Amber protested.
“You didn’t feel your feet?”
“No, but I thought they were chapped. I mean, how many people in the South get frostbite? And I knew everywhere else on your body could become chapped.”
“Well, go to sleep.”
That night, unremembered by Amber, she fell of her bunk bed ladder. She assured her mom she was fine and went to sleep. All night, her foot would hurt. She would wake up, massage it, and fall back into a restless slumber.
(The next morning)
“Mom, my foot really hurts,” Amber told her mother at six in the morning.
“All right, put some ice on it.”
(The next day)
“Are you still in a lot of pain?” her mom asked.
“From my foot all the way to my hip.”
“Would you like me to get you anything?” Her mom asked, full of concern.
“Yeah, maybe a doctor and a black hole. I want to sink into oblivion.”
When they finally got to the doctor, they ran hundreds of test (it seemed) and it turned out she was having vascular spasms from icing her frost bite in less than a year from it first occurring.
What was your worst injury? (It cannot be an illness or surgery!!! There is a difference in the medical world). Are you going anywhere soon?