I went hiking yesterday with a friend in Strawberry Plains, TN. The night before, we discussed religion and it's contradicting tendencies. We agreed that doubt comes along with being human and that it is okay to have wandering thoughts or questions about the power of Christ. We also agreed that whatever god you believe in comes from the same one true God.
On our hike, we admired creation and began to talk about the tragedy in Eden that led to the separation of humanity and nature. We agreed that being around trees made us feel safe and welcome. Once we reached the first overlook, it began to rain but we were okay with it since it was hot outside. It also felt like we were being cleansed for some reason (could have been the weed). We ended up getting lost a couple times (going off the trails, walking through thorns), it was a mess, really. Thankfully, the sun doesn't set until 8:30 or 9 so we had plenty of time to find our way out.
In the midst of being hopelessly lost (so we thought), my friend asked God to show us the way. It was actually really funny because we weren't that lost. Anyways, we found our way out. Sadly, it's in our nature to believe that we can do everything on our own, and once we realized that we were heading the right way, we were so proud of ourselves. My friend and I both tripped and fell in the mud shortly after our little 'celebration of self ' and even though it made us mad, we realized that it was well-deserved.
The moral of this stupid hiking story is that you are not alone. There is a higher power controlling the universe and there is nothing you can do to cease that truth. When people feel proud of themselves and forget to thank God for what he has helped them to achieve, he always finds a way to humble and remind them of who they really are: finite human beings who desperately need the helping hand of God to survive and find a way through our broken world. Once you are reminded of that, thank him and ask for forgiveness because you're nothing without him.
"We are his portion, and he is our prize" (Deuteronomy 32:9)
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
A Doe in the Morning Shower
Her leaves exhale springtime
And inhale my breath
Her height shades my eyes
From the fiery shimmer above
Dew drops lay peacefully on the thirsty grass
Clouds like blobs of down
Absorbing moisture
The sun begins to fade
The air smells like shade, Earth, and river
Down clouds stretch over the mountains
And become as black as precious coal
Thunder rolls like drums in Heaven
Sky tears almost fall, but not yet
I am still warm from the sun's glitter
A relief of rain across the region
The rivers of Appalachia rise
Her plants drink up
Animals run for cover
Fish kiss the ripples above
Necks of flowers bend
But the pressure soon ends
The land is wet
Sunlight pierces through the coat of black
The aroma from earlier cooks in the sun
Sautéed goodness
My mouth waters as I contemplate lunch
Monday, April 15, 2013
The Best Place Is Your Home Place.
Mountains destroyed
Hills laid low
Torn open to its heart.
Heart of the mountain
Ancient root of life
Precious black coal
Ripped from the depths
Broken and crushed
Moved, trucked and taken
From the hills of home
To power plants, factories
And homes distant
From our mountains.
The rubble, discard and ruins
Thrown down
Tumbled to the valley
Crushing and filling the hollers
With no thought
Of the beauty below
Or of ancestral homes.
Much less the sacred graves
Of those who ventured
As wayfarers
In a new land.
Appalachian pilgrims,
Pioneers forgotten.
Buried alongside
The primrose, sassafras
Honeysuckle, magnolia and sourwood.
All as if they were flowers
Forgotten at the grave
Cast off and buried
In the rubble
Of questionable progress.
Cry, Oh Appalachia
Weep oh hills and hollers.
Mourn what we have lost
Gnash your teeth
That we have allowed
Strangers
To buy,
To steal our heritage
For the sake
Of coal.
Hills laid low
Torn open to its heart.
Heart of the mountain
Ancient root of life
Precious black coal
Ripped from the depths
Broken and crushed
Moved, trucked and taken
From the hills of home
To power plants, factories
And homes distant
From our mountains.
The rubble, discard and ruins
Thrown down
Tumbled to the valley
Crushing and filling the hollers
With no thought
Of the beauty below
Or of ancestral homes.
Much less the sacred graves
Of those who ventured
As wayfarers
In a new land.
Appalachian pilgrims,
Pioneers forgotten.
Buried alongside
The primrose, sassafras
Honeysuckle, magnolia and sourwood.
All as if they were flowers
Forgotten at the grave
Cast off and buried
In the rubble
Of questionable progress.
Cry, Oh Appalachia
Weep oh hills and hollers.
Mourn what we have lost
Gnash your teeth
That we have allowed
Strangers
To buy,
To steal our heritage
For the sake
Of coal.
Friday, April 12, 2013
My Mountain Song
The day my mother told me--I'll never forget.
"We're moving to Tennessee."
Instant fear and regret.
Those words consumed my mind
And with tears in my eyes, I sighed.
What about school? I graduate in a year!
What about all of my friends? I struggle to hold back tears.
But there was nothing I could do, for the date had been set.
So I had to stay strong and tell myself, maybe this is for the best.
I knew my life would be different in those years to come.
From year-round summers, to red and yellow autumns.
There laid no beaches here, just mossy creek bottoms.
I didn't see any alligators or crocodiles.
No manatees or sea turtles.
There were horses in my backyard instead of boats.
Rows of green palms became shady oaks.
From warm sunburns to chilly snowfalls.
And where the land had once laid flat, now stands tall.
From loose sand to packed clay.
From milky coconuts, to dry hay.
What is this place?
At first it sucked, and I didn't fit in.
Until I graduated and came to CN.
I learned all about Appalachia, and I was moved by her culture.
I began to dream big dreams for me and my future.
A teacher, a reader, a singer, a believer!
And now I realize, I finally see.
Whatever I become, whoever I may be,
I know my biggest influence is Rocky Top Tennessee.
Mountain Top Removal: End it.
More than 500 of the oldest mountains in the world have been blown up thanks to surface mining.
This process is something that humans have chosen to do in order to collect coal.
We all know that coal is burned in order to produce our electricity. However, coal is a non-renewable resource and when it is burned, it has terrible effects on human health and on the environment.
Coal mining is a serious job, with a serious paycheck. Although the workers are making money, they are also destroying their homes and families.
Sadly, Appalachia is becoming more known for its high production of coal instead of for its loving community and wonderful landscapes. Even though this is a highly powerful industry, it can be stopped.
If you want to put an end to surface mining, you are part of the .029%
That is less than one percent of the entire world population.
If you love Appalachia, you will do more research on the matter.
I'll even help you get started....
First, please watch this 4 minute video on the effects of strip mining.
If 4 minutes is too long, then you are careless.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUBObYnPvxE
Second, visit www.ilovemountains.org to sign the pledge and make your voice heard.
(there is also another video on their home page that is worth watching: it explains the harsh effects on human health due to surface mining).
Third, enjoy this amazing Appalachian musician, Lou Wilson, in her ability to share the love of her culture through music.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5p3rTdyJ_4
That's only three steps!!! Let your voice be heard and watch our region transform.
This process is something that humans have chosen to do in order to collect coal.
We all know that coal is burned in order to produce our electricity. However, coal is a non-renewable resource and when it is burned, it has terrible effects on human health and on the environment.
Coal mining is a serious job, with a serious paycheck. Although the workers are making money, they are also destroying their homes and families.
Sadly, Appalachia is becoming more known for its high production of coal instead of for its loving community and wonderful landscapes. Even though this is a highly powerful industry, it can be stopped.
If you want to put an end to surface mining, you are part of the .029%
That is less than one percent of the entire world population.
If you love Appalachia, you will do more research on the matter.
I'll even help you get started....
First, please watch this 4 minute video on the effects of strip mining.
If 4 minutes is too long, then you are careless.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUBObYnPvxE
Second, visit www.ilovemountains.org to sign the pledge and make your voice heard.
(there is also another video on their home page that is worth watching: it explains the harsh effects on human health due to surface mining).
Third, enjoy this amazing Appalachian musician, Lou Wilson, in her ability to share the love of her culture through music.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5p3rTdyJ_4
That's only three steps!!! Let your voice be heard and watch our region transform.
Friday, March 1, 2013
LOVE LOVE LOVE
Marching into March! Praise God for the gift of seasons and the persistent coming of warmth each year.
Today was my stepbrother, Jackson's, birthday. He is 9. I remember when I was 9 and it's depressing to think of how fast time goes by. But, when I was at my house today, the subject of God came up. He always pops up unexpectedly which I should be used to by now. God is never dull, nor will he appear in dull moments. I have learned tonight that Jackson, a nine year old boy, has become passionate about our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. How beautiful is it to hear from a child, a creature we believe to be so naive, the words of truth and life. The passionate love of Christ lives within each and every human being who accepts him as their savior and this warm reminder was the cherry on top of my night, and a great way to start the month. The fact that God's grace can be simple enough for a nine year old to understand hits home in so many positive ways. I held back tears of joy as his mom expressed how proud she was of her son's new found faith.
As the conversation continued between the others in the room, we began to discuss the ages at which we became saved. Some people said it happened when they were young, while others, such as myself, shared that their first encounter with God had not come into play until adulthood. I had not understood the concept fully until I was 17 years old. Granted, I was baptized and (technically) saved at a very young age, but God never 'touched' my soul until I really asked him to. The argument began with the idea that people have an 80% chance of going to hell if they do not ask Jesus into their heart before the age of 18. I quickly disagreed because I am one-hundred percent positive that Jesus is willing to meet every soul right where they are and age will never be a limitation. Because God is good, and his mercy endures forever. I believe that as long as you are bold enough to fully release yourself from the bondage of your flesh, you are accepted into the kingdom of God.
I reassured them that we worship a limitless God and they all agreed, thankfully.
My mom chimes in with a story, "Brittany, do you remember me telling you about the time I realized God was real?"
I lied, "yes", because I knew she would retell the story regardless of my answer.
"Well", she begins to tell the group. "I had Brittany when I was nineteen years old and I was all about having a social life, whatever that means. I had no time for a baby. Her father and his parents had gotten custody of her and kept her for the first year and a half of her life. As I was living my own selfish life, something slapped me across the face, hard. At that moment, I knew that my life was not my own. I realized that another human being's survival depended on my tender love and care. I knew what I was created to be: a mother. I cried for weeks, begging God to bring my baby girl back, because I needed her. I went to a Pentecostal church where they prayed powerfully over me, begging God in the same way I did during those depressing weeks. After thousands of tears, and one month later, I was reunited with my first born". She looks at me with puffy eyes and tears running down her cheeks.
I was stunned. Because for years, I was told many different stories. My grandparents told me that my mom handed me over to them because she did not want me. My father told me that my mom was crazy and incapable of raising a child. My mother told me that my grandparents had stolen me and got custody behind her back. Come to think of it, my aunt was the only one to tell me anything close to the truth which was not brought about unitl Thanksgiving of 2012.
"Your mom was way too young and scared to raise you on her own", Becca said. "She let grandma and grandpa take care of you until she could get back on her feet".
Regardless of how I was reunited with my mother, the moral is that God saves people everyday and if you believe in the power of prayer, you will get what you ask for. Age will never limit its power.
Happy Birthday my sweet sweet Jackcon.
I could sing of Your love forever.
Today was my stepbrother, Jackson's, birthday. He is 9. I remember when I was 9 and it's depressing to think of how fast time goes by. But, when I was at my house today, the subject of God came up. He always pops up unexpectedly which I should be used to by now. God is never dull, nor will he appear in dull moments. I have learned tonight that Jackson, a nine year old boy, has become passionate about our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. How beautiful is it to hear from a child, a creature we believe to be so naive, the words of truth and life. The passionate love of Christ lives within each and every human being who accepts him as their savior and this warm reminder was the cherry on top of my night, and a great way to start the month. The fact that God's grace can be simple enough for a nine year old to understand hits home in so many positive ways. I held back tears of joy as his mom expressed how proud she was of her son's new found faith.
As the conversation continued between the others in the room, we began to discuss the ages at which we became saved. Some people said it happened when they were young, while others, such as myself, shared that their first encounter with God had not come into play until adulthood. I had not understood the concept fully until I was 17 years old. Granted, I was baptized and (technically) saved at a very young age, but God never 'touched' my soul until I really asked him to. The argument began with the idea that people have an 80% chance of going to hell if they do not ask Jesus into their heart before the age of 18. I quickly disagreed because I am one-hundred percent positive that Jesus is willing to meet every soul right where they are and age will never be a limitation. Because God is good, and his mercy endures forever. I believe that as long as you are bold enough to fully release yourself from the bondage of your flesh, you are accepted into the kingdom of God.
I reassured them that we worship a limitless God and they all agreed, thankfully.
My mom chimes in with a story, "Brittany, do you remember me telling you about the time I realized God was real?"
I lied, "yes", because I knew she would retell the story regardless of my answer.
"Well", she begins to tell the group. "I had Brittany when I was nineteen years old and I was all about having a social life, whatever that means. I had no time for a baby. Her father and his parents had gotten custody of her and kept her for the first year and a half of her life. As I was living my own selfish life, something slapped me across the face, hard. At that moment, I knew that my life was not my own. I realized that another human being's survival depended on my tender love and care. I knew what I was created to be: a mother. I cried for weeks, begging God to bring my baby girl back, because I needed her. I went to a Pentecostal church where they prayed powerfully over me, begging God in the same way I did during those depressing weeks. After thousands of tears, and one month later, I was reunited with my first born". She looks at me with puffy eyes and tears running down her cheeks.
I was stunned. Because for years, I was told many different stories. My grandparents told me that my mom handed me over to them because she did not want me. My father told me that my mom was crazy and incapable of raising a child. My mother told me that my grandparents had stolen me and got custody behind her back. Come to think of it, my aunt was the only one to tell me anything close to the truth which was not brought about unitl Thanksgiving of 2012.
"Your mom was way too young and scared to raise you on her own", Becca said. "She let grandma and grandpa take care of you until she could get back on her feet".
Regardless of how I was reunited with my mother, the moral is that God saves people everyday and if you believe in the power of prayer, you will get what you ask for. Age will never limit its power.
Happy Birthday my sweet sweet Jackcon.
I could sing of Your love forever.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Wednesday YES list and a tribute to Emily Habeck
@emilyhabeck is one of my favorite writers. Even though I don't know her personally, I am pretty positive that she is a great person and an awesome friend. Her posts never fail to make me laugh (when they're intended to be funny), and she also invented the phrase #PandaBearIt, which is definitely my new life motto...aka full commitment with no regrets. My blog wouldn't exist if I had never found hers.
I decided that I am having an unusually good day. Good enough to write about at least.
I got a haircut yesterday....BANGS, finally, and I have been getting a lot of compliments which is always a self esteem enhancer. Also, according to the Redefine Beauty Campaign, it's positive day, and I was told not to say anything negative, but to encourage others all day long. Well, it would be my pleasure! I wanted to share a small list of things that made my day today and it's only half past noon!
1. Blueberry cluster and banana flakes by Honey Bunches of Oats.
2. String Cheese (great for stress relief and it's yummy).
3. The sun is out!!! Which means spring is coming! Hallelujah, praise God for warmth in East Tennessee. Go outside and soak up some vitamins.
4. Peach Yogurt.
5. Trees. Pretend you can hear them breathing, and you will instantly feel like the air is fresher:)
There's the top five!
What I am telling myself today:
**Remember that life is too short to be sad all the time. People come and go, and eventually the ignorant will learn. Your job is to love love love until you die. HAVE A SUPER DAY.
I decided that I am having an unusually good day. Good enough to write about at least.
I got a haircut yesterday....BANGS, finally, and I have been getting a lot of compliments which is always a self esteem enhancer. Also, according to the Redefine Beauty Campaign, it's positive day, and I was told not to say anything negative, but to encourage others all day long. Well, it would be my pleasure! I wanted to share a small list of things that made my day today and it's only half past noon!
1. Blueberry cluster and banana flakes by Honey Bunches of Oats.
2. String Cheese (great for stress relief and it's yummy).
3. The sun is out!!! Which means spring is coming! Hallelujah, praise God for warmth in East Tennessee. Go outside and soak up some vitamins.
4. Peach Yogurt.
5. Trees. Pretend you can hear them breathing, and you will instantly feel like the air is fresher:)
There's the top five!
What I am telling myself today:
**Remember that life is too short to be sad all the time. People come and go, and eventually the ignorant will learn. Your job is to love love love until you die. HAVE A SUPER DAY.
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