The paper thin hospital gown you wear matches the sly grin across your lips.

{wake up call}

God woke me up this morning. No. Actually, my roommate's alarm did which is odd because I usually sleep right on through it. Then something even more awesome happened: God spoke. He said to get up and read my devotions. It had to be the voice of God because that direction counters anything that I would say, even subconsciously. I stayed in my bed and asked, "Seriously, God?" I offered up another option to Him and tried to justify it by saying I could do it in half an hour when I had to get up. He was silent. He had already spoken. There were no other options. How foolish of me to try and change God's mind!

So two choices were before me as I laid in my comfortable bed. I could choose to roll over, pull the blankets tighter, going back to sleep and ignoring God. Or I could be obedient. The past few weeks there have been a few themes and terms that I can't seem to escape. Speakers in chapel, songs on the radio, and even echoed in my readings for class have spoken about testimonies where God spoke, and people reacted. They were moved to action by God. They responded to His call.

Sin

The more that I lean on His word to inform me and look at the world through the lens of the bible, the better understanding I have of sin. I wish that sin would have been talked about more with me. I feel like in my church we only reference sin when it is related to forgiveness. It's comfortable to look at sin from the cushioned seat of forgiveness. We need to see forgiveness from the side of sin. Sin is too often minimalized and treated lightly.

Starting Over

So, you can't really start over.
But I can start again.

Mi Familia =)

Brace yourself, its somewhat, mashed up.
I live with my mom (Fawn) and little brother (Stephen, 16) He is my only blood-related sibling. My mom works for the ELCA Board of Pensions. She is lost, searching, loving, growing, selfish, selfless, and an interesting woman. I don't want to bash her or take away from all the good that there is, but.

My mom and "real dad" seperated when I was 3, divorcing when I was four. My dad (Kevin) remarried about 12 years ago to Denise. (Step-mom) Denise had four kids from her previous marriage, that after marrying my dad, became my step-siblings. Stephanie, Jessica, Jenny, and JB are my family; the fact that we don't share any DNA is irrelevant.
My dad is unemployed; he was layed off last year from his job where he had been for like 10 years or something. He is witty, sarcastic, broke, broken, and faithful.

My mom remarried to a guy who is also irrelevant on account that he was an abusive, drunken jerk. Okay, I only have a few memories of him, and they seem pretty accurate to that statement. They divorced sometime around Second grade.
My mom sent my brother and I to live with my grandparents in Fergus Falls. I lovingly refer to them as Nana and Papa. Then my mom met Keith. Though they never married, they were together for 12 years. I think of him as my step-dad; He was the father figured that I lacked in my real dad. (My real dad's involvement has always been limited, though I realize that it doesn't mean he doesn't/didn't love me.) Keith brought three siblings into my life from his two previous marriages. Ryan and Niki were older than me and Nico was younger (the same age as Stephen). We all lived together, all 7 of us (plus 3 others) in a small trailer in Spooner, Wisconsin. Eventually, us 7 got a house of our own in town and at some point Ryan, Niki, and Nico moved out so it was just four people living there.

In ninth grade I again moved in with my grandparents. My grandparents are two of the most supportive, encouraging, real, and rounded people I know. A majority of my family is made up of misfits and mistakes (said with love) and my grandparents ground me so that I don't go insane.