On (Okay, after...) my Graduation Day

      I really meant to post this a week... two weeks ago.  You know, right after graduation.  Definitely before I left for my week at the US Air Force Academy.  Did that happen?  Nope.  So anyone who actually reads this blog is left with a month between posts.  Not ideal, but what's done is done.  Better late than never?  Back to that cliches thing....
     Anyways, although my technical "what year am I in school" definition is way more complicated than "Senior", suffice it to say that I walked a graduation ceremony this year and will (likely) not next year.  I walked with 7 other seniors at the homeschooling coop that I was part of for a few years before moving to South Africa.  It was such a nice ceremony, just family and friends, but the small graduating class (many who used to be in our class graduated from the local high school) meant each and every one of those graduating had to give a speech.  I probably knew about this 3 or 4 months ago, but did I write it?  Noooo.... It was okay, though, the speech-writing and -delivery went fairly well.  Below is the product of that hurried 15 minutes an hour before showtime.  As the M.C. said, perfected procrastination is known as inspiration.  Keep that in mind.

     
     Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start....  it was a spring day in North Carolina when I was born on April 9, 1996.  The first born, I was to be my parents' guinea pig, as they have so lovingly called me, for the next several years of my life.  Indeed, probably for the rest of it.  Thankfully, my parents are relatively ethical with animals, and I think I turned out okay.
     My mom jokes that she started homeschooling me because she didn't want to take me to the bus every day, and I am certainly thankful for that decision; buses almost always smell bad.  Thus began my homeschooling journey, with many different teachers, friends, and experiences.  I tell people I love homeschooling because I can finish my work at noon and have the rest of the day to myself, but I also love working at my own pace, avoiding the drama of public school, and forging a strong relationship with my parents, especially with my mom.  She has taught me so much outside of academics - to cook, to sew, to be independent, to serve those around me.  I am so thankful for her. 
     I am also thankful for my Dad.  he is a strong father who loves me deeply, who wants me to figure out everything, including how to change the car radio, and who is always ready with a hug when I need one.  I love you Mom and Dad.
     And although at times it may be hard to see past the annoying outsides, I love my siblings as well.  Esther, I love your laughter.  Ivan, your cheerful heart.  Becca, your smile is beautiful.  Jonathon, I do (most of the time) love your goofiness.  Teresa, I love the way you listen to me in the night as we discuss how to solve the problems of the world.  Or how you put up with me when I fall asleep in the middle of the problem solving. 
     My whole family has supported me as I've grown.  It hasn't always been easy, goodness no, or even always good, but it has been a family for which I am so grateful.  Now, as I look to the future, I don't know where I'm going, but I know they'll be with me every step of the way.  
     Although I have been class of 2014 my entire life, my 2 years overseas "messed up" my school schedules, so I am actually only a grade 11 in the eyes of the government; I dropped back a year to take full advantage of the Running Start program.  I am acting a senior in most everything else, but I'll finish up my Associates Degree next year. 
     From there, who knows where God will lead me?  I'm considering the air force, or going into chiropractic.  I'm interested in photography as well, I want to raise a family, and I sense the call of God into the mission field.  Wherever I am, my Lord will be with me and my family behind me.

So yea.

Shapes and sizes, silver and gold

     Lots of teachers diss cliches, but I think there's value in them. Over-usage might be a problem, but when a certain phrase has been around long enough, it starts to gather connotations, same as a word would. So sometimes cliches more accurately express a concept better than a long train of words meticulously pieced together. That's not really what this post is about, but I'm about to use a couple cliches and now you won't immediately dismiss my thoughts because I'm not being "original" enough.  Although I'm sure you wouldn't have done that anyway.
     Friendships come in many different shapes and sizes; "one is silver and the other's gold"; opposites attract?  No, that last one probably doesn't hit the nail on the head.  I've had many friends and many chances to see how those friendships last through different circumstances and this has caused me to reflect on those different types of relationships.

•      Your childhood best friend whom you gradually drift away from.
•      The relationship which is based mostly off of joking, silliness, and plans for the next moment of laughter.
•      A friend who you knew for two years, who you saw every day in school, who you were close with, but with whom you won't stay in touch when you leave the school.
•      The friend you met when you were young, who has been through everything with you, who you consider as close as a sibling. Who you know, no matter how often you talk, you will always consider your best friend.
•      A person you sat next to for one class and got along well with, but you won't talk once the class is over.
•     One you see from a distance and put on a pedestal. You wish to be friends, but never have the guts to talk to that person. Or you do talk, but it's limited because you see the person so far above you.
•      The chance meeting of someone who you can look up to but are equal to, you understand each other in almost every way and can always be supportive of each other.  You stay in touch, but no matter how infrequently you talk, you pick up right where you left off and nothing has changed. You can see being friends for a very long time.
•      A friend you aren't extremely close with, but when you leave you stay in touch constantly.
•      Your everyday friends who you easily laugh with and chat with and share experiences with. You look up to them in varying degrees for various reasons and care about their joys and frustrations.

     I obviously didn't include names, and some of these are more general, others more specific.  I didn't include every relationship I have - that would be too many. Maybe you can identify with these or identify who I'm describing.  Maybe not.  The pictures don't match up, if you're thinking of using that as a clue.  I don't think you should even try to match people with descriptions.  And this isn't a scientifically researched list of carefully evaluated relationship types, this is just my reflections. There are so many types of friends, depending on the people interacting and the environment they're in.  Each relationship is as unique as the people forming it.

Getting my hands dirty

     The last two days,  as part of my gift to my mom, I've spent several hours working in the garden with her. This is actually a really fitting gift because it fits both my love language, quality time, and hers, service. So even though I don't normally find joy in weeding, it was enjoyable to work next to her in the sunshine, being productive, sometimes chatting, sometimes quiet, finding worms.
     As a college student, so much of my time is consumed by schoolwork, and I don't often have the time to really get my hands dirty.  Now, I've made it through the bulk of this term and I've got a little time to relax. Mother's day - perfect timing! So I weeded and planted snap peas, shelling peas, sweet peas, mint, and nasturtium.  And weeded some more.  And found worms.
     Good dirt is beautiful. If you've ever been a gardener, you know what I mean.  Rich, dark, mineral-laden dirt, nicely soaked with rainwater and full of stones, worms, and roots. You dig your fingers into it and crumble it together into a packed lump and then squeeze it back onto the ground. It gets under your fingernails and covers your hands, knees, and clothes. Gorgeous.

      You may have also picked up, I like worms. Obviously, I've been worm deprived for a while. They're cool! They can be long or short, fat or skinny. They regenerate if you accidentally chop one in half with your trowel (I did that a couple times). I'm pretty sure they can move backwards or forwards, and they feel weird slithering over your hand! And they're good for the garden. And they're pretty - dark purple and pink, not just a dull brown! Yes, I kind of enjoyed the worms. Mom laughed at my exuberance,  but I don't mind acting childish like that.  As my pastor is preaching, God is a working God who created this world and we are His working people, created in His image to enjoy what is good! I like getting my hands dirty!

Not the Fastest Driver on the Road

     It always seems like I'm the slow driver.  I'm very much a rule follower,  so I always go the speed limit, or one or two over. When I'm in a rush, I go 5mph over. Speedy huh? Not so much. Apparently few others think so, too. I drive 5 miles to work and cars gradually stack up behind me. The come up going 5 or 10mph faster than me and then are forced to go my speed, the speed limit. Or they pass me, that happens a lot, too. I rarely get stuck behind anyone, and I'm rarely not followed, which would lead me to believe I'm in the minority for driving right on the speed limit. Cause of other cars were going the speed limit, I would more often be not followed. Right?
     I live in a beautiful place (see For The Beauty of the Earth http://teenreflectionsonlife.blogspot.com/2013/12/for-beauty-of-earth.html?m=1), but everyone seems to go too fast too appreciate it. And driving over the speed limit is against the law. Maybe we can't smell the flowers, since we're enclosed in a box of shiny metal, but we don't need to go by them so fast the only way we're noticeable is the light breeze we leave behind full of our exhaust fumes. Take a lttlw time to roll down the window and ejoy the breeze, put some uplifting music on, not get a speeding ticket, take in the scenery around you. It's nice - I can testify.

Unless my car's speedometer is malfunctioning,  That's possible, too.

Too Highly

     I am prideful. Coming from that, I am perfectionistic, over-achieving, and sometimes vain.  As a result of these, especially the first two, I am confident and fairly successful.  Those might be looked at as positive characteristics, but I struggle with humility, am quick to judge a poor performance of myself or others, and consider myself entitled to high achievements. Lo and behold: I'm human. 
     I'm not proud of this (not proud of my pride?), but it will probably be a lifelong fight to overcome myself, something I know I'll only ever be able to accomplish by God's grace.  I find it ironic that I tend to be good at almost everything I put my mind to, that this has caused me to be proud, and that this pride is what causes me to be bad at something: humility.  
     Now, I said almost everything. I am capable of everything to some extent, but I definitely have some places where I don't have an inborn talent. For example, my sister, Teresa, is a way better athlete than I am. She does the workout videos with Dad and she can run a mile a lot faster than I can and she excels at soccer and track and netball. It always frustrates me when something reminds me that she's more athletic than me because I wish I could be like her, but I can't.  Another example is music; my lack of the ability to play an instrument doesn't cause as much frustration as sports do, maybe because I can sing, but it's still an area in which I'm not especially talented. I watch Matt play the guitar and I'm fascinated by the movement of his fingers, or another friend will talk about music theory and playing classical piano and most of what he says goes straight over my head.  I'm just not as strong in these fields as in others. 
     My frustration is the wrong reaction. Multiple places in the Bible it says the body is made up of many parts, and each has its own function. In Romans 12 it says
3 Because of the privilege and authority God has given me, I give each of you this warning: Don’t think you are better than you really are. Be honest in your evaluation of yourselves, measuring yourselves by the faith God has given us.4 Just as our bodies have many parts and each part has a special function, 5 so it is with Christ’s body. We are many parts of one body, and we all belong to each other. (Romans 12:3-5, NLT, biblegateway.com)
     Um, message from the Lord to me at all? This has really been striking me as I've read through and memorized Romans this year for Bible Quizzing. "Don't think more highly of myself than I ought to think." A better reaction would be to support those who have talents different than mine and cheerfully accept help when they offer. 

The Different Snapping Points

     I really like colors. And certain designs.  And for things to flow a certain way.  And I've realized that whenever I get an idea for a piece of clothing or a pair of earrings or some other accessory,  the designers who get paid all the money haven't yet been inspired to create my idea. Come, now, that's your job! No, I'm kidding,  they have lots of other ideas, but this lack of my ideas being produced has led me to learn to sketch and sew and bead. I've done my own dresses and I bead quite regularly (also brought on by my inability to wear any metal but gold), I just haven't figured ot the shoe bit yet. I'll get there... maybe. I'm not aiming to be a fashion designer at all, I don't get inspirations that regularly,  I just know how to create and fulfill my dreamed up items.  
Anyway, one of my more recent projects, since I started driving, was to create a key chain for my keys. I knew I needed something long, something that would stand out, but I didn't feel like spending money. So... I created it. A bunch of colorful, textured, unique accent beads, all strung onto a wire and attached to my key chain. Pretty!
It didn't last very long before that wire snapped and all the beads tumbled into the cracks and crevices of my car. Okay. I can solve this. Three wires! After all, three cords cannot be broken, right? That lasted about twice as long. Two of the wires snapped, and I set the beads aside for a couple weeks until I could have time to repair it. 
This time, I've used a single wire and a single piece of string. Alright, I've not been using it for as long as the other two took to break yet but I have my hopes up. It got me thinking... when it's three wires, those wires will all snap under the same circumstances. Bend the whole thing too hard, and it all breaks. String,  on the other hand, breaks when it is continuously rubbed.  So if the wire is combined with the string, they'll be stronger together both because they are two and because they are different. 
Same thing works with people. Put two people who work the same way and put them both in a difficult situation, they'll both break at the same time. But put two differently-minded people together, and they can support each other through the different snapping points. That's why we need friends and family who aren't the same as us. 
Anyway, I'll let you know if my key chain breaks. 

Now and Then

     One of the questions people ask me when they discover I enjoy photography is "What do you like to photograph?"  Macro photographs?  Portrait?  Landscape?  I always hem and haw when I answer that... oh you know, I like closeups and I take pictures of my siblings, and kids are adorable...  My photographic style, much like my taste in music and, okay, the rest of my life, seems to be varied.
     I love capturing the beauty of the Earth, both in landscape and in macro.  Every day God gives us a painting spread out across the entire sky or just close up on a single flower petal.  Water slowly dripping off of a frozen waterfall as spring thaws out the ice.  The mountains, stretched out behind the water.  I love taking pictures of that sort of view!
     Some of my favorite people subjects are those who are new to the idea of a camera - young kids. Kids don't realize what I'm doing, so they just act natural in their cute kiddy way.  There's no "I'm not photogenic" excuses or camera nerves.  When the kids are fascinated by the sound the camera makes, or the many buttons they can push, it results in poking and blurs and curiosity photos.  Children are curious!  I love it.  Or, if the kids have started to realize when big people hide behind a small black box those big people can show them a picture of themselves, then they tend to play peekaboo or some similar game - also cute.
     That's a general idea of what I like to take pictures of.  Now, if I really want to make photography a serious hobby (or even a career?) part of my goal is to get my pictures noticed.  Think back to the pictures that you love the most, or the ones that have made the most impact on society.  Is your favorite photograph the one of your family in matching outfits sitting in a row smiling, or is it the spontaneous one your sister took at the beach where you're everyone's laughing and legitimately happy?  Okay, maybe that sounds cheesy, but my point is the photos we love the most are the ones where real life was happening and so the ones we have memories associated with.  Yes, your cat is pretty, but she's prettier when you're playing with her.  Similarly, the photos that most affect society are not the gorgeous mountaintop views or the classic family photo but the photos capturing something that happened, be it exciting or horrendous.  Think of photos from the Vietnam war or West Berlin.  Almost anyone can think of some photo from those two historical occasions, places.  Now, that flower is gorgeous, but then you'll choose you and your brother playing, then people will want to see pictures of people and memories and life happening.
     That's what I love capturing, what it's my goal to capture.  Life.  Laughter.  Mourning.  Tedium.  Work.  Friendship.  That's part of why I take pictures of small children - they're full of life.  Even if that life is crying because the vacuum cleaner was taken away from them.  But their smiles aren't plastered, their eyes aren't dull - they're vibrant!  It's gorgeous!  I want to have pictures of me and my friends, all dressed up, taking turns with the camera, making faces.  The photos in my photo album should contain my family, me and Mom, my Dad tickling me, my annoying (but loved) siblings.  Life is a word that encompasses a lot; I guess I should keep my camera handy at all times.