Emotions come in all shapes and sizes.... tonight's emotions came in the shape of converse shoes, the size? 8.5. These particular shoes were used to channel my emotions to swing-dancing. When I dance I am forced to realize what an awkward individual I have the capacity to be. Example: first partner... sneezed on him and saw his eyes widen with glee as the instructor yelled 'switch partners!'...sorry small freshman boy. I am also relatively unskilled in the words department. I have the tendency to speak before thinking. Example: next partner says: 'How often do you swing dance?' My response: "Well, the last time I swung danced, I was wearing fishnets! I mean...not often." Instructor: SWITCH! ...what did I mean? I meant the last time I swung dance was when I was in Guys and Dolls two years ago. Sometimes I try to be funny and it crashes and burns.
The next emotional shape was a redvine--let me tell you something; that is the most legit candy ever invented. You can eat it with almost anything AND use it as a straw. Is it gross? Somewhat, but at least it can be done. Next part of my night consisted of me, once again, running the back of my head into a Jessup light pole. Why, oh why, is my head attracted to so many objects? I'm bound to live a concussed life.
Last non-serious subject: Dear Michael Johns.
I hope you enjoy your pineapple juice. I do not hope the fruit-acid burns the roof of your mouth such as you have burned my emotional state with your 'lets make Rachel jealous' tweets. So ends my irritation/shout-out. =)
So begins the serious processing section of this blog:
My name is Rachel Elizabeth Jackson, and I have grown up believing the lie that reality should be somewhat of a painful experience. I have believed that romantic love should be a series of dramatic events resulting in irritation from one or both parties. I have believed I am responsible for the emotions of another person. (This is where everyone says, 'Hi Rachel.'). Unlike many sob stories of the modern 19 year old,I will not insinuate my parents, Disney movies, or horrendous friends led me to these heinous conclusions, I will simply state it was a matter of living and learning from a one-dimensional lens. My heart missed the memo that I wasn't destined to be Hosea. I also missed the memo that 'heavy emotions' and 'fifteen year old girl' never mesh will. By the grace of God,I now have lived and learned from multiple dimensions; I have altered the pattern and hopefully walked away with only a few cuts and bruises.
I serve an amazing, all-powerful God who's desire is to make me whole in Him. Who's desire is to shape me, ever so gently, in accordance to His will. I serve a God who's grace is more than sufficient--His grace is my hope and my peace in these times of grieving. He holds every last tear in a bottle and He hurts with me. He rejoices over me with singing, but mostly, He just holds me when I can't pick myself up. I live to be the woman He envisioned when He formed me in the womb. I desire to live abandoned to a sacred identity.
Last subject of the night:
I really like this =). I like positive feelings. That's all.
Sleep well, kids. Listen to some Copeland and read Zephaniah. It will blow your mind.