Reading: Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
Listening to: Air1 Radio (specifically "Something in Your Eyes" by Shonlock)
I wanna run. I'm a terrible runner: bad knees + not in shape + small lungs = notsogoodrunner. However, recently I've been dying to run a half-marathon. One of my brother's is training for one, and I want to but I'm way too busy right now.
But since I live for metaphors and symbolism I've been comparing life to a marathon. Mama Jean always says "It's not a sprint, it's a marathon." And boy does it feel like it. And honestly, my legs get tired quickly, my calves burn and my lungs ache and I've got a stitch in my side.
However, it's always easier to run when you have a partner to keep pace with, a co-pilot. Unfortunately for me, recently I've fallen behind my partner. I stopped to "take a break" and He kept running. So I'm trying to slowly pick up my pace again, so I won't burn out...cause it's all about your pace. And I know that He's running in place, waiting on me to catch up. And He'll grab my hand and keep my slow pace with me. Oh Jesus, you always give me the best visions of our relationship.
Is it strange that I can tell when I'm ignoring Jesus because I stop blogging and journaling as much? I didn't think so.
Whoever said senior year wasn't stressful lied, but whoever said it couldn't fun in the midst of stress was an even greater liar. I'm a firm believer in the idea that the abundance of your life is completely up to you: it's all a choice. You can either choose to be sullen and moody and regret life or you can live it up and celebrate and praise God for the constant blessings that He throws your way.
Now obviously, I realize there are days when you need to cry or scream, but there's always hope. I also realize that some people don't have hope, and it's not their fault. But as for me, I'm going to bless God, because I can.
P.s. I wanna go....here: A.SA.P.
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