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Saturday, February 25, 2017

That Weird Kid



Everyone went to school with at least one weird kid. In third grade, the one that stands out for me was the girl who told everyone she was the princess of Saturn. Sadly, her planet was going through an intergalactic war, and she was sent to Earth for her safety. She missed her planet so much, but she was able to stay in touch with her people through the communicator hidden in her Holly Hobby lunchbox. Nobody else could see it though. It only worked for her. She put her jacket over her head after her ham and cheese to enter the zone. 



The rest of the class loved the stories about Saturnia, her capitol city.  They longed to go with her to visit so they could see the beautiful rings and witness multiple moons. Her stories of the rocky horizon views were breathtaking. The palace sounded like such a magical place, and the advanced technology they used in their spacecrafts was mind-boggling. Her teenage brother was busy fighting the aggressors from Neptune. He loved his little sister, but he worried about her constantly. After their father had been killed in a bombing at the palace, her brother sent her away. They were now orphans, and he was determined to protect her at any cost. But she was homesick, and she spent much of her time in communication with her world. 



The other children laughed at first, but she was so adamant about this being her reality that they soon began to believe it…or at least they pretended well. She was so different from her classmates that it almost made more sense for her to be alien than human. Looking back, I think she had such a vivid imagination she almost believed it herself. People develop funny ways of coping when they don’t fit in well.
            



I no longer believe I’m the princess of Saturn, but I still exist on the fringes. Maybe I was dropped on my head as an infant. Maybe I’m a freak of nature. Or maybe I’m just wired a little bit different. In any case, I spent much of my elementary years with my head in a lunchbox…or a book…or writing stories when I should have been doing math.

A few years ago, I met my soul mate. One of the things I love most about my husband is that he accepts me for me. He told me once he didn't love me "in spite of" my weirdness but "because of " it. Wow. 

It just recently dawned on me that God sees us the same way. He doesn't say, "Heather is really strange, but I can use her in this anyway...I mean, hey, I AM God. I can even make something of THAT mess."  No. I think he uses me BECAUSE of my weirdness. It's more like, "I can use Heather BECAUSE of her differences." After all, he made me. He knows me inside and out. He knows the good. He knows the bad. And he loves me.

How awesome is that? I still don't always claim to know what he's thinking...in fact, most of the time I have no clue. But I do know he made me for a purpose. 

What if my nerdy interest in sci-fi is the only reason someone becomes friends with me, and that leads them to Christ? What if my creativity led to a gift for someone who was about to give up hope? What if my imagination inspired someone else? What if NONE of it ever makes sense?  That's ok. God knows more than me anyway. So I choose to embrace my madness. Live long and prosper!




Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Hello World

It's me. Yes, I am still alive.

I know it's been awhile.  I lost my heart for writing, but lately I feel it coming back.

It may take some baby steps...my confidence was shattered.

But I'm here.


Saturday, May 9, 2015

Alone

What do you do when you're all alone
And the world is crashing in
And you know that you will never change
Because you know you never win
And you're tired of all the helpful friends
And the ones without a clue
And the ones who tire of all your crap
But pretend to care for you
Because nothing ever really helps
And the pain will never end
And you're tired of spinning all your wheels
For the joy around the bend

Because even when you seem ok
And the others think you're fine
And you have a somewhat better day
And the sun begins to shine
But you know the smile will go away
And the rain will drench your soul
And the pain inside will reappear
And the damage take its toll
Because you know it never goes away
And the drugs just aren't enough
And the therapy just wastes your time
And just getting up is tough

And they pray for you
And counsel you
And offer you advice
And they give you books
And Scripture cards
And they're all so very nice
But they never really understand
And they try to hold your hand
And they think there's light one day for you
And they pull you up to stand
But though you want to pull away
And you wish the pain would end
And you think about the peace of death
But you'll never hurt your friend
And so you push your way through life
Inside an empty shell
And pray for death to claim you
And release you from this hell

Monday, April 27, 2015

Hello again...

I haven't written on here in over a year. Wow.

My heart for writing was ripped out of me...and I'm still recovering.  But I want to begin again. I never deleted this blog. I kept hoping, dreaming...

Today I'm isolated in my cocoon (bedroom). I'm not feeling well, yet the urge to create is nagging at me.

Maybe it's time to try again.

Monday, January 27, 2014

The Beginning of a Journey...through Photoshop!

I've been working on learning photography the past couple of years.  Lately, I've been wondering what original art I could create with Photoshop.  Somewhere along the way, Alyssa (my daughter), was also bitten by the photography bug.  She took the picture, and the editing is mine.  I wanted to make sure and give her credit for an amazing shot to work with!  I had some too, but this was just the right "feel"...if that makes sense...



Yes, it is rather dark.  No, I am not going to start sacrificing puppies to the gods of chaos.  I just happen to like fantasy and think this is incredibly cool.

Oh and by the way, isn't Brittany beautiful?! (One of my stepdaughters)

Friday, December 27, 2013

Ponderings of a Self-Proclaimed Wallflower...



I’m forty and have been wondering all my life where I fit into this world.  

Never really a social butterfly, yet not quite an outcast…something of a loner who often still longs for the company of a friend…never popular but not really unpopular either…always looking for my niche but never belonging fully to any group…

I am a wallflower.  I am a Hazel.  I am an observer in the world.  (If you got both of those references, I love you.  If not, read “Perks of Being a Wallflower” by Stephen Chbosky and “The Fault in Our Stars” by John Green.  Seriously.  Do it.  I don't care that you are an adult and they are technically written for young adults.)

But I don’t want to be an observer…
I want to be an extrovert, always the life of the party. 
I want to be the artistic soul who creates beautiful art and music and poetry.
I want to be the intellectual everyone listens to for their sage wisdom.
I want to make a mark in the world.  I want to be remembered.
But I am an observer.

Observers see things others miss.
Observers find meaning and look for connections.
Observers see both sides and have trouble choosing.
Observers see life from the outside in, never fully becoming a part of it all.
Observers catch intimate moments and angry looks and rolling eyes.
I am an observer.

People forget observers. 
When we move away you don’t miss us.
When your lives get busy, you don’t think about us.
When you call the group to go out for drinks our names don’t come up.
It’s not that you don’t like us.  Often you do…but we are so good at blending into the wallpaper that when we are gone it doesn’t feel that different.
It isn’t your fault.  Thank you for trying.

But I am an observer.  
I have tried to change, but I am me.
I will never be one who commands attention.
I will never be the life of the party.
Nobody may ever read much of what I write.
But a handful of people know and love me deeply, and maybe I just need to be ok with that.

Monday, December 16, 2013

You might be depressed if...

I'm feeling a rather sarcastic humor today...it happens...often...

So in that spirit, I'm starting a "you might be depressed if..." post.  Feel free to add any tidbits of thought to my party...

If you welcome illness because it gives you a "real" reason to stay in bed and avoid people..
     you might be depressed

If you decide to clean your desk but haven't in so long you can no longer find it...
     you might be depressed

If cute holiday children's specials anger you because the real world sucks...
     you might be depressed

If you are bored out of your mind but don't have the energy to do anything about it...
     you might be depressed

If you walk in and people run the other way...
     you might be depressed

If everyone else knows the perfect way for you to "get over it"...
     you might be depressed

If people ask you what your dreams are and you realize you don't have any because "what's the point?"...
     you might be depressed

If you are getting more and more convinced that you will be this way forever...
     you might be depressed

If you are jealous when you hear someone else has a terminal illness...
     you might be depressed

So there's my "humor" for the day...oh, one more!

If your "humor" depresses and annoys everyone who reads it...
     you might be depressed!