These are the ramblings of a wanna-be writer and enamored reader. They promise to be raw, enthusiastic and probably repetitive and ramble-y. But they are a true representation of my word-filled mind trying desperately to sort out the feelings and thoughts that consume me as I read. Enjoy?

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Making a list and checking it twice...

Since I technically wrote the first post in April, I figured I could write one more today - just some thoughts I've had lately. Hopefully I'll get the hang of this blog thing...

I love writing. Whether it's a story or a poem, a grocery list or just doodling my name over and over, I just love filling a paper with words. Lately, I am really into lists. I have always loved them, but for the past few weeks, I have made them for everything. One that I have recently started is a bucket list, which is a list of things I want to do before I "kick the bucket". I think I made a bucket list because my life has felt very pointless lately. I have felt like I am going absolutely nowhere, and I wanted to make plans to do something. I have all sorts of things on that list, from getting married and visiting Italy, to owning every Karen Kingsbury book and making something on a potter's wheel. I thought this was a "cute" idea until I went to church on Sunday night. We talked about death and what people will say when you're gone. I got to thinking, Do I really want people to say, "She loved Italy?" or "She showed God's love." I like the second option, don't you? I think if I focused a lot more on that, my life wouldn't feel so pointless so often. I don't think a bucket list is a bad thing - I still want to do those things. I just want to do the important things first. I do have "good" things on my bucket list, like volunteering and missions trips, but I don't want them to just be something to check off on a list. I want them to be done out of love.

About the red door...

Well, crap. I was trying to fix my background and I had no idea what I was doing and I deleted the post! I hadn't posted since April though, so I guess it's okay. Maybe I'll keep up with it now. Here is the first post again:

Warning: This is my first real attempt at blogging. (I don't think writing on Xanga like 3 times when I was 11 counts.)

I thought it appropriate to start with an explanation of my title, Through the Red Door. The things is, I really, really like red doors. More specifically, I love gray stone churches with red doors. Most of them are Lutheran churches - I think it's like their thing, and I'm not Lutheran, but that's okay. They have awesome church doors. I really, really want to get married in a gray stone church on a hill, in the middle of nowhere, with a red door. Don't ask me where I'll find that - my guests might have to hike a bit. :) I'm not really sure why I love them - I just do.

And so, like everything else I love, I had to write a poem about my red door love. I intended to make it just about the color and the...wonderfulness of it?, but it turned into something more about love. I think it could apply to God's love for us, or the love a husband has for his wife? Like how it can be like a safe haven when you need it. Right? Maybe you think I'm nuts. If I get my red door someday, I want the poem printed on the back of the programs. Is it narcissistic of me to want my own poetry printed on my programs? Oh well.

In my deepest, dearest dreams
In the haze of all my failures, old and new
In the realm of all the possibilities
I see a burst of color shining through

At times I can barely make it out
But it's there nonetheless
One sure thing in all my doubt
A beacon of hope in my distress

I try to take hold, but it's just beyond my reach
Discouraged and tired, I fall away
But a steady hand catches me
And invites me in to stay

With patient loving kindness,
He begins to heal my hurts
And as he removes the blinders,
I begin to see my worth

All at once, the shadows of my past
Don't consume me anymore
I feel like I've come home at last,
As I walk through the red door