Frosted Flakes on My Mind

Writing obliquely

when my thoughts rudely jostle

for more elbow room

at the stillness of twenty-eight minutes

past Cinderella’s bedtime;

oddly content, slightly hungry.


Written on the back of a misprinted bureaucratic form

To create diversions of innovation
To complement, with an e
To discover published secrets
Living in a shadow -yours, actually

To imagine small pictures
among those who have painted the sky
To sing with those golden voices
with my tarnished un-sterling
To pour out my soul’s deepest desires,
small spoonfuls among
the liquid hope of ancient yearning oceans
Skipping while you fly
Smiling from the grassy average
with untied shoelaces

But I am Loved.

[the page turns]


Who loves me?

Greatness Itself.
Eternity embraces me,
He is a Storyteller with strong hands,
eyes that capture the sun
and bore truth-shapes into my soul
All things bright and beautiful and scarlet
He paints too, gathering life from faithless two-dimensions
Bearer of sad songs,
He entrusts His every story with joy

[Psalm 30:5]


Interesting reading my last post about dreams, cuz I’ve been having some CRAZY ones as of late. I think that means I’m not sleeping well, but I feel relatively well-rested…perhaps I should stop watching Harry Potter movies/reading Star Wars novels before bed. Lately I’ve gotten chased around Hogwarts by Snoop Dogg, been forced to become a shape-shifting hobo child (don’t worry, I eventually found a way to return to my original form), and helped the Avengers reclaim their spaceship (disguised as a porter-potty, no less) from a baseball game crowd. And have also had fuzzy dream realities where I can’t get in to my apartment….which is true.

Because I don’t live there anymore.

In some ways I’m totally used to the idea that I’m now a U.Va graduate and that I won’t be returning to Charlottesville in the fall. (Gosh, so much has happened since my last post. Let me catch you up: spring break –> recital –> major senioritis due to no more recital stress –> graduation –> Florida –> home) I’ve enjoyed tossing around words and phrases like “when I was in college”, “majored“, and “alumni”. Don’t get me wrong, there were some heartbreaking moments around graduation, when I really felt the weight of leaving everyone that had become so dear to me over the past four years. Silent packing, emo music (Lifehouse haha) ensued as I embraced my newfound introverted ways. [I’m really beginning to think that I’m quite introverted despite my ENFJ status. Thoughts?]

Now, though, I’m more in LEHGOOOO mode. After leaving C-ville, I had a whirlwind trip to FL to see Annie and then came home and immediately started unpacking, organizing and cleaning my room (normally I have to work my motivation up for this, haha). I’m leaving for Taiwan in less than two months, and I feel that’s one reason I kind of cut myself off from indulging in all the sad nostalgia. I can’t visit C-ville like my other friends can as I’ll be out of the country for a year, and I also have a lot to prepare myself for mentally regarding that time abroad. So right now, Taiwan-excitement/nervousness has taken over.

It’s hard to focus on what’s ahead while also really milking my summer at home. It’s been good to just do nothing with my brothers, and shop and do stuff around the house with my mom. Enjoying the chance to relax while I’ve still got it, and resisting the chance to just rush through the upcoming days because I know I’m going to miss my family like crazy this next year.

I also feel like I should reminisce more about the past four years. I feel like “moving on” too quickly does disservice to the best four years of my life, all those lessons learned, adventures had, friends made. I keep trying to slow down to, oh I don’t know, feel grateful for everything I was given at U.Va. I’m really thankful God led me there, trying as that process was, and for His faithful provision even when I wasn’t looking for it. For giving me encouraging professors, a spiritual community to depend on, the right roommates to challenge and comfort me, and the finances to pay my way through (I graduated debt-free, which I’m reminded is a huge miracle to praise God for!!).

My brother just walked into my room and saw the graduation pictures I’m posting on facebook, only to ask: “Do you feel sad that you’re never going to see these people again?”

Yes. Thanks. -_____-   I linger fondly over memories, and try to brace myself for the future. A dear friend reminded me recently though, that just because these years were great doesn’t mean that what’s ahead isn’t just as good. God’s got a lot in store for us. BRING IT :)

iTunes and dreams

Every so often I get the urge to go through the iTunes store and buy a ton of music that I’m tired of listening to solely via youtube. This is quite to my brother’s chagrin, who insists that I can get the same music, freely and unlawfully, from him. I think that says a lot about my spending habits (that in at least some matters, conscience trumps frugality) and my aged listening habits (in that my little brother almost always beats me to my latest song kicks. Good taste, that little man has). Anyways, today it’s a mixture of smooth, slightly atonal French flute music, some bittersweet Switchfoot, and this Jason Mraz song I’ve been obsessed with. Once it all downloads I’m taking myself and la nouvelle musique out for a run. Switchfoot dares me to move.

In other news, it’s spring break and I’ve been having some really weird dreams lately. Involving nooses, apartment parties, conferences in China, flying with unicorns/as cute insects, and angry unshaven boyfriends. They’ve been quite disconcerting, in that they feel remarkably real no matter how outlandish the situation. Each one is incredibly vivid and I wake up remembering other people’s expressions, my emotions, and even the weight of certain objects quite clearly. The feelings, fears, and relationships of each one are incredibly true-to-life despite the fact that my friend Carlos isn’t in China and I can’t actually fly (dang it). I guess I haven’t described anything particularly abnormal for dreams, but I’m used to having a crazy dream life without waking up emotionally shaken. Anyone believe God still speaks to us through dreams occasionally?

I miss the dreams where I get to be Jack Bauer and save Africa’s children with my drug-sniffing wallaby  (as in drug-detecting. Even dream-self wouldn’t work with a wallaby unless he was clean and sober) at my side. The ones where I wake up saying, “I’M SO COOL” as opposed to “THE HORROR…”. Okay, well more like “WHAT IS REAL AND JUST A DREAM?”  I haven’t started dreaming about Joseph Conrad novels, thank goodness. Though I think I may have just quoted a Lifehouse song, which is just as crazy.           



Valentine’s Day is a hopelessly cheesy and commercialized holiday, but it’s also a great reason to step back and really think about all the love God’s put into my life. 

I’m totally spoiled. :) 

Last night at XA worship it really hit me just how much love and strength God’s poured out on me in this past year, how much freedom He’s given me and how much peace He’s filled me with in the past few weeks. 

It’s been a long time since I’ve really felt that. It was so overwhelming I started sobbing in the middle of worship (slightly awkward?). 

He’s been so good to me. so so so good. 

He’s also let that love flow freely through so many people in my life, and I’m super grateful. God’s held on to me this past year. I’ve fought a lot of different sorts of things, learned a ton, cried a lot, fumbled through the darkness.  And now…His light and love are so sweet. I don’t know exactly what’s changed but I know it’s God-given.   

I’m anything but eloquent and creative right now, but I just wanted to throw these feelings into cyberspace while I had the chance. Because I don’t want to forget how wonderful God’s been to me. I found some old diary entries earlier that encouraged me, just reminded me that God has been looking out for me this whole time, and that He’s blessed my feeble efforts to follow Him.. So this post’s for a rainy day. 


I drove to and back from a friend’s abode hidden in the winding roads of North Raleigh. In the rain/fog. By myself. At 11:30PM (only on the way back, of course. I haven’t mastered stopping time. Yet.).

You call this normal, dear reader, something any 16-year-old American does on a regular basis.


But. For me, it marked twenty-two minutes of faked confidence, God-given courage, and the car radio blissfully set on the classical station both ways.

I love how blogging provides me a platform to showcase my poetic angst and pseudo-accomplishment. *ahem *


I’m waiting


It seems long now,

the way five minutes drags on

for a kindergarten student with a full bladder;

the way the night before Christmas

spans anxious reindeer eternities;

the way a love song stretches beyond

oceans, destinies, and its stubborn clichés

Are we there yet?

Come back in five years

I’ll be waiting still

With different clothes, same heart

[no promises]


You promised.

Meaningless, of course

since trust and patience

shriveled up long ago

I ate them, for breakfast

in my bitterness mistook them for raisins

[shriveled things once tender and good,

quite a natural mistake]

Mother always said eating such would

cause gardens in my stomach

That explains the churning

I once accounted for as anger

and love

locked in conflict

No matter,

I’m used to indigestion.


“It will be worth the wait,”
she assured me gently,
as if she held my future in those soft eyes
I want nothing more than to believe her
I swallow instead, lest
word slides out from between my crooked teeth
that I think she’s wrong.


Wrong testimonies

life experiences I can’t believe

because they’re not mine.

my pain, my sorrow, my broken pieces


I grab onto the mistakes

surely I’m allowed those

as no one else wants them

They fall

I fall

I fell

Where is this love that keeps

me from falling?

The hand that stays

my course?

Invisible, unfeeling


to me.

And again it returns to me.


No good thing

will He withhold

from them that walk uprightly

No? No good?

No good in me?

To walk uprightly, to

not stumble,

or faceplant into green pastures

He restores

He can, but will He –

wills He?


“That, My child, was when I carried you.”