All That Breathes

Dear 50 Shades of Grey, I saw your trailer on my T.V. screen last night. Your label was on my screen with what sounded like a couple having sex. I know that the allure of the trailer was supposed to be a sort of "what's underneath this?" type of thing, but I'm not about wrapping pornography in a pretty little bow and calling it art. I get it, sex sells, but I was watching So You Think You Can Dance. A show that families watch, that little kids watch. I have a friend who used to be addicted to pornography and your stupid advertisements trigger thoughts for her that she doesn't desire in the slightest. In fact, I have more than one friend who struggles with lust and would be much better off never knowing of your franchise. I am so angry at you. I'm having trouble right now finding the words to pour out onto this keyboard from my shaking hands that would accurately describe the amount of anger that is racing through my heart. But I'm afraid that my anger is ...

When the pieces seem to shatter To gather off the floor And all that seems to matter Is that I don't feel you anymore No I don't feel you anymore I need a reason to sing I went through picture after picture with my mom, and we unloaded the last box. After 4 months, the last box was finally unpacked and all of my mom's stuff put away. 2 years ago my mom moved out of the house, planning to keep married to my dad until he could move to Albuquerque. 1 year and 2 months ago, my parents got divorced. 4 months ago, my dad threw all of my mom's stuff on the front lawn and told her to "come get your crap." I thought that I was over this. The first month was rough but I'm 20, I'm moved out of my parents house. I didn't realize that I had simply just thrown it under the rug until I was in East Asia with no choice but to listen to an amazing Godly woman point out that divorce is the worst possible thing you can ever do to someone else because it'...

I woke up on my thin mattress on the most comfortable metal bed I've ever slept on. I opened the window, killed a mosquito that picked the wrong time to fly in, and felt a slightly cooler morning breeze run through my hair. I threw my hair up in a messy bun and opened my bible. I spent time with Jesus and I asked Him what He wanted me to do today. There was no question of who I wanted to be that day, besides a follower of Christ. There was no question of what I wanted to wear besides the love that God had given me for the people, and whatever was dry on the hanging clothesline on the balcony of our small leaky apartment. There was no reason for me to think about how I would appear to other people during the day, or whether or not I was meeting my own expectations because crossing stateside borders had forced me to leave my expectations in America, and Jesus had slowly peeled back layer by layer everything I had wanted and tried to force myself to be until all that remained was Chri...