Real Conversation at Purdue University: Persuasion

He was standing off to the side, studying the exhibit. I walked up and asked what he thought.

"I can't tell you what I think about abortion. My class is right over there. I'm about to do a lecture on persuasion. I don't want them to know what I think."

I asked his name and realized I was talking to a professor. We talked about his PhD program and the culture's general perception of abortion. I deeply wanted to discuss this controversial topic with him, but I couldn't see an open door. I asked, "Do you have any questions?" To my surprise, he did.

"What would you say is the strongest case against abortion?"

It was one of the widest doors I have ever been shown, so I entered without planning my next words.

"I believe the strongest case against abortion is science. Science says that life begins at conception, which makes abortion murder. We stand with science.
"But I also believe that you cannot be 'against' something without being 'for' something else. I am for women. I believe that the strongest case for life is the women who experience pregnancy. They are scared, they need help, and abortion does not provide that help. I have never met a post-abortive woman who did not eventually regret her abortion. My goal is to prevent that pain by offering her a loving alternative, supporting her through her pregnancy and the life of her child as far as she lets me help.
"The strongest case against abortion is science, but the strongest case for life is women. You can't have one without the other."

He accepted my answer, thanked me for my time, and walked away.

Real Conversation at Purdue University: "I'm a miracle!"

I turned around after finishing one conversation and noticed her standing there, looking at the exhibit. I waved and smiled, "Can I ask you what you think about abortion?"

Typically, when I ask that question, people stand there and ponder the question for a moment before answering, but she was ready. After smiling back, she answered with another question. "Say there's a terminally ill woman who is passing on her illness to her unborn child, shouldn't we give the woman the opportunity to end her pregnancy so that she doesn't have to watch her child suffer?"

The question took me by surprise, but it reminded me of something I had learned from Stephanie Gray, a Canadian pro-life apologist. I asked this student if I could ask her another question and she said yes. "You have a friend on the other side of the world who calls you up and says, 'I just found out I have cancer and have only four months to live.' Do you wait until about month three and say 'I guess I should visit them?" Or do you take the next plane out?"

She didn't hesitate at all. "The next plane! Absolutely!" This was very encouraging to me, so I followed up, "Of course! Now apply that to the mother in the hypothetical situation you gave me a moment ago."

Her eyes lit up. "My mom did that!" She explained that her little brother had only been alive three days after he was born. Her mom stayed by his side every moment until he died. "I only wish I would have met him. I've never thought of him in relation to this before. I cannot stand by my question with that in mind."

We exchanged some stories and I got her name. Then she came up with a new question. "Say there's someone with a terminal illness who doesn't want to live anymore because they are tired of knowing they're going to die. Should we give them the chance to choose assisted suicide?"

Again, the question seemed to come from left field, but it brought to mind a question I find very important. I just asked, "Do you believe in miracles?"

Immediately a light turned on in her mind and she burst out, "I'm a miracle!" Diving into her personal story, she explained that she was born with what her doctors described as a terminal illness. Defying the odds, she turned her few month diagnosis into the young woman standing in front of me. "I'm only here because of a miracle! I cannot stand by my question any more."

We shared more stories about miracles we had witnessed in our lives. She wasn't a Christian, but she let me talk about the amazing things I have seen God do in my life and the lives of others. The last thing she told me was, "I would absolutely make every opportunity for a miracle to happen. I hope I get the chance to do that one day."

And she walked away.

Many Roads: From Desperation to Wichita

Almost exactly two years ago, I started asking God to let me go on an adventure. I wanted to be thrown out of my comfort zone, into a strange new land (like Michigan or Pennsylvania), and I wanted to help the pro-life cause while I was at it. I had no plan, so I put my feelers out. I sent job applications to crisis pregnancy centers in seven different states. Anyone could have told you I was desperate. One by one, phone call after email, God shut every one of those doors which had seemed so open and inviting. I couldn't understand why God didn't like my idea. "Anywhere, God, please, but here," was my prayer. He was asking me to stay home, and like the God He is, He gave me opportunities to face a few fears:

-For a long time, I've been afraid that little kids don't like me. It always took them a while to warm up to me. So when I was asked to be a mother's helper for a wonderful family, I said yes. I learned so much letting a three-year-old drag me all over my hometown. She tore apart my fear and replaced it with hope.
-Summer 2015 at the Chapel was hard for me and I was afraid it would only get harder. So when the director asked me to create a counselor position in the Chapel in 2016, I said yes. And I experienced the best summer yet. God let me train as a pro-life counselor and gave me hope to continue my cause.
-During my nightmares, I developed a fear of dogs. So, every time over that year I was asked to watch dogs, I said yes. It was hard at times, but it was incredibly healing. God knew what He was doing.

These roads through fears and hopes were not what I was asking for. Slowly, though, He taught me to be content. I stopped asking to leave. "Show me what you want me to do and I'll do it."
So He sent me down more little roads that I didn't understand at the time:

-I never technically signed up to help at Bible Day Camp, but I showed up and they put me to work. At the end of that week, our kids knew how to spell "Christian", put on several skits all by themselves, and were hugging me goodbye.
-I didn't go back on Staff at the Chapel this summer, but I did visit my sisters several times. I was blessed over and over again by the camaraderie of 2017 Staff and was given the gift of leaving with peace each time.
-I'm not good at dancing and it used to make me very self-conscious, but I attended nine dances this year. And loved every minute of those swing dances, contra dances, and Civil War balls. They were thoroughly unexpected adventures.

On July 30th, I was offered an internship with Justice For All, a pro-life organization that does campus outreach all over the States. I applied and was accepted in two weeks. Two weeks later I packed my life into my car and drove to Kansas. I've been here for two weeks now. That blows my mind. After two years, God sent me on a road trip I never expected. "Would you ever have thought you'd end up in Wichita, Kansas?" One friend asked me when I got the news. "No," I answered, "never."

So here I am, and I will be using this blog to keep people posted on what God is doing in this place I didn't know to ask for after He filled my days with one small road after another.

Chorus of "Many Roads" by Andrew Peterson

"Could it be that the many roads

You took to get here

Were just for me to tell this story

And for you to hear this song

And your many hopes

And your many fears

Were meant to bring you here all along"

They Are Not Real

For a blog titled "Cheery"type, I've written a lot of things that haven't been cheery. I'm an optimist, so I thought it would be easier when I started this blog to write about happy things. Since then, I've realized that happiness isn't the core idea behind optimism. Keeping faith in the midst of hard things is more of the idea, and I want to share a story with you from the past couple years where I learned something new about faith. If you have or are experiencing a battle against your own mind, I hope my own battle can help you.



Tacked to a corkboard in my room is this black square of construction paper with the words "They are not real" written in chalk. It's right where I can see it when I wake up from a nightmare to remind me that the nightmares do not reflect reality in any way. I needed the reminder because, for a long time, I couldn't tell the difference between nightmare and truth.

I haven't always struggled with nightmares. I never got them as a kid and I didn't understand what the big deal was. When mine started in 2013, I did some research on dreams and found very little for my effort. Nobody really understands what goes on in our brains while we sleep. That's why I'm writing this. Because there are those who defy the statistic that says that only children have nightmares. If those people are anything like me, they have felt alone and, frankly, crazy.

They started gradually. A few scattered nightmares in 2012, followed by two months of consistent nightmares in summer of 2013. There were more in 2014, but it got bad in February of 2015 where I had one nightmare a week for four months. That spell clearly ended by the grace of God. A couple months later though, they came back... and that's where it got crazy.

That August, the nightmares came back with a vengeance. They followed a terribly difficult summer. Confused by what God was doing in my life, I tried to get rid of these nightmares on my own. I relentlessly researched solutions, stayed up late and woke up early, tried new eating habits; I thought I tried everything. Nothing worked. On average, I had a nightmare every two days. Sometimes I could go a whole two weeks without getting one, and sometimes I would get four in one night. They just kept coming month after month after month.

All this I was virtually silent about. By spring of 2016, three people knew how bad things were and they were praying for me. The problem was, I had given up praying for me. I accepted that I didn't understand what God was doing and just let it happen. I stopped trying to cover up the circles under my eyes. I forgot what rest felt like. That year, I accepted the fact that at least once a week I would wake up screaming, sweating, or afraid of whoever I had dreamt about. My understanding of what a nightmare was deepened painfully. Some of my nightmares took people that I loved and changed them. Tweaked them. Gave them new personalities and replaced my memories of them with these new memories that were fake, but oh so real in my head. Because of the frequency and intensity of my dreams, I had forgotten who certain friends really were. Some nightmares involved the deaths of loved ones. Others, recurring ones, gave me new fears like a fear of big dogs and bad men. You see, when I woke up from a nightmare, it stayed in my head. That was the greatest struggle. I couldn't shake them. Images from what I had seen during the night followed me all throughout the day. They bothered me and dragged me down to the point where I was afraid to sleep.

I didn't know how to tell others what I was experiencing. To me, it sounded crazy, dumb, as though I should know better than to be influenced by what I was seeing. It was embarrassing. Because there's nothing "actually wrong." Because it's inexplicable. I couldn't trust my brain to tell me the difference between a real memory and a memory fabricated by a dream. Sproul said one time, "At times, I myself am vexed by thorny questions about memory. I have had dreams so vivid and intense that years later I am not sure if I am remembering a dream or a real experience." Real seemed so far away. I was lost and defeated. When a year passed, I wrote in my diary, "I don't know how to hope that this trend will go away." But it did. After 13 months, it ended.

The fears have faded. I've already forgotten most of the content of my 100+ nightmares, though there are some I may never forget. It's been three months since I had a nightmare. (I had a freak nightmare in late November. That was a big deal, and I'll explain in a minute.) That's the longest peaceful streak I've experienced in two years.

What I've realized is that God doesn't always increase our faith by answering our prayers.  "At other times, He leaves our problems but gives us His strength so that we can have victory over them on a day to day basis, thus revealing His sustaining grace." -Sande. Lots of times, He calls us to trust Him in the midst of hard things. "Sometimes He calms the storm, and other times He calms His child." -Krippayne. I'm only beginning to understand the depths of this faith thing. I've failed many times and I know that failing is human and common and a battle that I will fight for the rest of my life. But God is gracious and faithful. "He will cover you with His pinions, and under His wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness is a shield and a buckler. You will not fear the terror of the night. . . When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble..." Psalm 91: 4-5; 15.

When the nightmares stopped in September, I started to seek advice for what I should do if they came back. I firmly believe that the nightmares stopped because of a conversation I had with my mother. I finally opened up to her about what I had been going through and she listened and helped me. This is the advice that she gave me for if the nightmares ever came back: to write down the details. To tell someone I trust. To pray immediately for faith, trust, peace. Then, one night in late November, I was given a chance to use this advice. I woke up screaming from the worst nightmare I've ever had and I immediately prayed. I wrote down the dream. I kept praying. I listened to music, prayed for the people in my dream, and was able to fall back asleep. Later that week, I told my best friend about my nightmare and she helped me get past it. I haven't had a nightmare since. There's no guarantee they won't come back, but I'm ready this time because I'm surrounded by people who love me and a God who understands.

Moral of the story: you're not alone. You feel alone, you think it's better that way, but it's not. Seek out help. Talk to God. Don't stop talking to God. Tell people you trust and ask them to pray for you and with you. They won't understand. Your battle is different from theirs, different from mine, but just because we don't understand doesn't mean we can't help. People wanted to help me, but I didn't ask them. When I finally did, they responded lovingly. Reach out and let people reach out to you. It makes a difference. It might not make the trouble go away, but you will have help. God gives strength to those who ask.

My Doctor Who Scarf Projects

A few years ago, one of my best friends introduced me to Doctor Who and the 4th Doctor's scarf, one of the show's iconic accessories. In the autumn of 2013, I decided to learn how to knit, and my friend kindly pestered me about knitting the 12 foot long scarf for him. In January of 2015, I finally did. Since then, I have made a test scarf for myself, an improved one for him, two commissions for friends, a custom blue version for my crazy uncle, an Etsy commission, a custom edition for my little sister (the width is two stitches narrower than the original), and the season 18 "red" scarf.

 Each scarf took between twelve days and four weeks to complete. I was ridiculously excited for the first one. I basically only stopped to eat and sleep between Christmas Eve and mid January. The fastest was the most recent original.

 The first day the scarf on the left was delivered, it weathered snow, twigs, sawdust, and sweat. Since then it has stretched to 14 feet and visited several states. The scarf on the right is mine. It has gone from 10 feet to 10 and a half feet and has seen less travel. Another difference between the scarves is that my scarf used a green yarn that was discontinued before I was able to stock up for the other scarves. The latter green was worsted, which assisted in most of the second scarf's expansion.

 My first commission! I met the recipient of my third scarf and nerded out with her about the show and all the places this scarf would visit. Her's also sports the later, more vibrant green.

 The blue version was my favorite challenge. I searched craft stores including JoAnn fabrics, Michael's, A.C.Moore, and Hobby Lobby for weeks before finding the perfect combination of six blues and one complimentary gray. The pattern is the same as the original except with eight tassels instead of the recommended ten.

 This was taken the day I completed the first project, before I even put the tassels on. It measured ten and a half feet, shorter than expected because I accidentally used the wrong gauge needles.
The scarf project has been the theme of my year, so far taking up about six months. I've learned a lot about patience and dedication in the process. Investing in the yarn, tools, and time was a commitment almost as big as my part-time job earlier this year.

My last project this year was the "red" scarf from season 18. Before stretching, it measured 13'6'' long, 10'' wide. I knitted it in 2 and a half weeks using acrylic yarn. It took another week and a half to put the ends in, crochet the edging, and put all 42 tassels on. My sister looks like the Doctor's companion, Tegan, so she did the modeling for me.

The Friendship Poet - Interview

Recently, Ophelia-Marie Flowers (who I've mentioned before) published her third book of poetry! Entitled "Colored Highlights and Drifting Shadows ~ Friendship's Moments", Ophelia's book covers many aspects of the wonderful and changing world of friends that she inhabits. I had the honor of being included in this book and now I'd like to return the favor and showcase Ophelia and her work here for all of you.

1. What is your book about?

"This book is about friendship, in its varies forms and changes.
'Friendship is full of highlights and shadows. Sometimes it is bright and joyful as we learn, build trust, grow, and laugh together. Other times it is dark and confusing as we get hurt, question, change and sometimes even break apart.
In many ways, friendship changes who we are - the way we view the world, how we live, what we reach for, and who we trust. It is a reminder of our fallen nature - It is an even greater reminder that we are not meant to walk alone.
This book of poetry, quotes, and scripture explores both the joys and pains bound in friendship, and seeks to share many of the lessons we learn from each other.'"

2. Who inspired you to publish your works?

 "J. Grace Pennington inspired me when I was about sixteen years old to publish my writing. She was and is a big encouragement to me, and having her faith in me really pushed me to pursue publishing. You know those type of people you just right-off- the-bat look up to? Grace was that to me... She has been a precious friend and inspiration for several years now.  She also taught me to appreciate, and then love, free-verse poetry."

3. Of the poems in your most recent book, which is your favorite and why?

"The poem, "A Day With You" was written to my best friend. It chronicles a normal weekend at her home, and captures to me the love and joy I feel with her family. When I read it, I remember the wonderful times spent with her. We've been friends since I was about 8, and I have many fond memories of our times together over the years."

4. Does music help or harm your creative process? If it helps, what music?

"If it is free-verse, music can help me get in the mood. I actually have created a Youtube playlist with a few songs about friendship.
When I write poetry that rhymes I often end up with tunes in my head that help me with the rhythm. If that is the case, listening to outside source music can be distracting and make me lose my beat."

5. Where can people find out more about your writing and books?

"I am hosting a giveaway on my blog, and more details are there. :)"
Here is a picture of the giveaway prizes:

I am so thankful for my friendship with this talented young lady. Her passion for God, writing, and dragons have brought us close and I pray we remain so throughout our lives. You rock, ZA! <3

Ghosts and Glory

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I can see the ghosts I've been trying to get rid of. It hurts to see all that progress break apart in those little moments where my regret peeks out. It frowns at me and ventures a little further out until I'm frowning too. The longer I look, the more the memory spreads across my face onto my whole attitude and pretty soon I've lost all my hard work and I'm left at square one, face to face with the me I used to be.
 

This look, where my eyes darken and the smile slips away, it speaks to my brain, whispers to my heart. It lies to me again and again. It tells me I never should have tried to be strong. It tries to convince me that my convictions don't matter and that I wrecked every chance I had at a happy life. It stalks my emotions and pokes my fear, my longing, my discontent, and desire.

Regret grabs ahold of my sadness and drags it to the forefront. "See this?!" It asks. "This represents the fun you could have had if you weren't so stuck-up and righteous." Then It throws my sadness to the darkness and pulls out my loneliness. It dangles it in front of my face and sneers, "See here? This is that suitor you could have had if you weren't so picky!" This too, It tosses aside. Reaching farther into my heart, Regret reminds me of my failures. "This is quite a pile of sin you have here. What would happen if it was all uncovered and put on display? Where would you be then?"

It sits on the corner of a box of tears and taps a puddle that has formed on the ground. "You could have spared yourself all these tears. Look at them: what good did they do you? Just a lot of worthless sorrow."

Then It sits quietly, watching my back stoop with the weight of my regrets. It's content for now; I'm defeated, clawing at my heart, begging to feel anything other than this crippling agony.

There are long seconds of silence around me, but in my head are playbacks of every conversation where my view of right conflicted with the way I wanted to live. I'm reminded of every time I justified a step backward. Little excuses that brought me further away from purity and closer to pain. They flit in and out of my subconscious, dancing in my peripheral brain.

One by one they fade away. They've had their fun and now I'm on my hands and knees, struggling to breathe. I fight against Regret, but not for the reasons that It shoves in my face. It would have me believe that these pleasures on Earth are all I live for, all I fight for. But it's wrong. That's not why I'm here.

This realization, this thought, how am I even capable of thinking it? Here I am at the end of my rope and I'm reminded of the reason I stopped falling. I stopped giving in and I spoke from the Spirit. All my slipping and sliding was wrong. All my decisions to embrace this world were corrosive. With strength I cannot describe, I fought against my self. I made a choice, and I chose right instead of me. I said goodbye to fear, longing, discontent, and desire. I said goodbye to sadness and loneliness. I chose joy and hope instead. I embraced holiness and purity. I was given peace and I clung to it with every strength endowed. I called wisdom my sister and grace my companion. And every day I must choose these things again.

Every day I must lift up my pain to the Father and request His gift of forgiveness. Without Him, I am dead, swallowed in pity and buried in hate. With my God in Heaven, I am unstoppable. I am not of this world. I am a stranger, learning to trust my King and rely on His power and give Him glory day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, fall and rise, temptation and victory, sin and salvation.

Regret watched from a distance as all my convictions regained their footing in my heart and mind. It watched them rise up as an army led by a trustworthy Leader, and It disappeared. The light came back into my eyes and my mouth regained serenity. Ghosts like to think they have power. They pick and choose their weapons carefully, but they are no match for the One who created the universe. My God is holding on to me tighter than I can hold on to anything in this life.