Oh yeah. I live here. Not only that, I work for Nashville.
Not the city, the show. On abc. Wednesday nights. 10/9 central. Watch it. Seriously, if it gets cancelled I lose my job.
And boy would I hate that.
I finally have a job and I intend to hold onto it. Because working is an amazing feeling. Seriously, I don't even care that I have to work Saturdays. (I know this will change as time goes on and I start missing fun Saturday things, but it hasn't happened yet.) I'm seriously just so grateful to have a job at all, it doesn't even bother me that it has nothing to do with what I studied or want to do with my life. I am just happy to be making money and feeling productive. I mean, not that I wasn't productive before, but I kind of wasn't.
I have no idea what this job is going to lead to (I'm hoping it will lead to another job that is closer to what I actually want to do) but even if it doesn't get me anywhere else, in the meantime I am happy to have work. I'm emerging from the wasteland known as unemployment and I can't help but leap for joy and be overwhelmingly (borderline obnoxiously) excited. It's just an accounting clerk position. I file paperwork and check numbers all day. But I have the joy of Lord while I do it. Because I waited. And waited. And waited. And finally He delivered. I wonder what He'll deliver next...
Fingers crossed they need accountants on Agents of S.H.E.I.L.D.
Or stunt doubles for Black Widow with fiery red hair. ;)
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Friday, July 26, 2013
It costs nothing to say something kind.
Even less to shut up altogether.
That's Nathan Fillion's twitter bio. Of all the places to get something so deep. Twitter. Ha! The irony.
This idea has led me to seriously reconsider how much time I spend criticizing others, myself, and ideas. Because there is such great truth to be found in that. Kindness is far more rewarding than deprecation (self-inflicted or otherwise). It is so easy to slip into bad mouthing. Trash talking. Finding fault. But do any of those things bring about solutions? Do they help situations? No. As a general rule, they make the participant feel slightly better for a short while, but in the long term there is only hurt.
It's similar to the age old adage: "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all."
But it goes deeper than that. Because if we allow ourselves to be absorbed by negativity, we begin to discover that finding flaw is easier than finding strength. And that is a dangerous place to be. I know it, because I've lived there for some time. I have found it so easy to look at my circumstances and come to the conclusion that I am a failure, and that there is clearly something wrong with me.
And because of that self-deprecation, my self confidence has been slowly eroding away over time. I have missed out on greatness because I lost sight of a simple truth that I should know well. I am having to work hard to gain it back.
Don't be cruel. To yourself or others. I know better than most, it is a road that leads nowhere.
Never let loyalty and kindness leave you!
Tie them around your neck as a reminder.
Write them deep within your heart. Proverbs 3:3
That's Nathan Fillion's twitter bio. Of all the places to get something so deep. Twitter. Ha! The irony.
This idea has led me to seriously reconsider how much time I spend criticizing others, myself, and ideas. Because there is such great truth to be found in that. Kindness is far more rewarding than deprecation (self-inflicted or otherwise). It is so easy to slip into bad mouthing. Trash talking. Finding fault. But do any of those things bring about solutions? Do they help situations? No. As a general rule, they make the participant feel slightly better for a short while, but in the long term there is only hurt.
It's similar to the age old adage: "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all."
But it goes deeper than that. Because if we allow ourselves to be absorbed by negativity, we begin to discover that finding flaw is easier than finding strength. And that is a dangerous place to be. I know it, because I've lived there for some time. I have found it so easy to look at my circumstances and come to the conclusion that I am a failure, and that there is clearly something wrong with me.
And because of that self-deprecation, my self confidence has been slowly eroding away over time. I have missed out on greatness because I lost sight of a simple truth that I should know well. I am having to work hard to gain it back.
Don't be cruel. To yourself or others. I know better than most, it is a road that leads nowhere.
Never let loyalty and kindness leave you!
Tie them around your neck as a reminder.
Write them deep within your heart. Proverbs 3:3
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Church and Twins
So, I promised Guatemala stories, and now I will deliver on that promise.
The third day of our trip was a Sunday, and we went to church in the local village. We attended the morning service and then we visited the nursing/old folks home. We had seen it the day before and decided we would go back after the morning church service to visit with the elderly there and distribute cards that the kids from our church had made for them. There was also an evening service. It was a pretty full day to say the least.
The morning service was very good. The music was interesting, as the women leading didn't really seem to have coordinated their song selections with the musicians, so it was amusing watching the guys struggle to figure out what key they were singing in. Definitely spirit led worship going on there though. Even though I had no idea what they were singing about, their passion was evident and it was a beautiful act of worship. The message was great (it was translated for us). The pastor spoke about temptation and how God can empathize with our struggles with it because Christ experienced it as well. He also spoke on how laziness breeds temptation which was really eye opening for me as I recognized its truth. When we allow ourselves to have too much free time, our minds wander and our sin nature comes out.
After the morning service we went back to the Hope of Life cafeteria/pavilion to have lunch and then walked down to the nursing home. The people there were so pleased to see us and loved getting visitors. Those of us with instruments (Travis, Kyle and I) walked around playing and singing worship songs and other random songs we knew. We had a good sized group of elderly people outside listening to us under one of the covered walkways, but not everyone could get out of bed/their rooms. So Sarah came and got me and told me there was a woman who wanted to hear the music, but couldn't get out of bed.
So I go to this woman, she is very feeble, barely moving on her bed, but she has this big smile on her face. I play my ukulele for her for a while and then we start talking a bit in Spanish. I use the language I know, and when that's exhausted I sort of just took her hand and stroked it. She said something in Spanish I didn't understand. Then she gets this serious look on her face and points knowingly at my stomach. She says one word, "bebay?" I took this to mean she thought I was pregnant, you know, with the whole pointing at the stomach and the word sounding so much like "baby" and all. I started laughing and shaking my head no, trying to say no babies for a long time.
She smiled agreeably, then got serious again.
She holds up two fingers and says, "Dos."
There was only one possible conclusion I could draw from this situation.
Obviously this woman prophesied that I am going to have twins. That or I'll have a baby in two years....
Or she could have been referring to literally 2 of anything else. I honestly have no idea, but if I do end up with twins someday I'll have a good laugh over it.
Anyway, so later that evening we went back to church for the evening service and participated in worship. Our team went up and sang some songs in English. It was very sweet and it was a blessing that they invited us to do that.
Their worship team performed a song that was amazing and I wish I could show you the video of it, but alas, you'll have to wait. It was a song of pure joy, they literally sang about praising God by jumping up and down, shouting, and whistling. And while we sang it, we did it! I've never jumped up and down in church like that before but it was SO FUN.
Anyway. I hope you enjoyed my stories. There will be more.
The third day of our trip was a Sunday, and we went to church in the local village. We attended the morning service and then we visited the nursing/old folks home. We had seen it the day before and decided we would go back after the morning church service to visit with the elderly there and distribute cards that the kids from our church had made for them. There was also an evening service. It was a pretty full day to say the least.
The morning service was very good. The music was interesting, as the women leading didn't really seem to have coordinated their song selections with the musicians, so it was amusing watching the guys struggle to figure out what key they were singing in. Definitely spirit led worship going on there though. Even though I had no idea what they were singing about, their passion was evident and it was a beautiful act of worship. The message was great (it was translated for us). The pastor spoke about temptation and how God can empathize with our struggles with it because Christ experienced it as well. He also spoke on how laziness breeds temptation which was really eye opening for me as I recognized its truth. When we allow ourselves to have too much free time, our minds wander and our sin nature comes out.
After the morning service we went back to the Hope of Life cafeteria/pavilion to have lunch and then walked down to the nursing home. The people there were so pleased to see us and loved getting visitors. Those of us with instruments (Travis, Kyle and I) walked around playing and singing worship songs and other random songs we knew. We had a good sized group of elderly people outside listening to us under one of the covered walkways, but not everyone could get out of bed/their rooms. So Sarah came and got me and told me there was a woman who wanted to hear the music, but couldn't get out of bed.
 |
| You can't see me, but I'm there with my ukulele. |
So I go to this woman, she is very feeble, barely moving on her bed, but she has this big smile on her face. I play my ukulele for her for a while and then we start talking a bit in Spanish. I use the language I know, and when that's exhausted I sort of just took her hand and stroked it. She said something in Spanish I didn't understand. Then she gets this serious look on her face and points knowingly at my stomach. She says one word, "bebay?" I took this to mean she thought I was pregnant, you know, with the whole pointing at the stomach and the word sounding so much like "baby" and all. I started laughing and shaking my head no, trying to say no babies for a long time.
She smiled agreeably, then got serious again.
She holds up two fingers and says, "Dos."
There was only one possible conclusion I could draw from this situation.
Obviously this woman prophesied that I am going to have twins. That or I'll have a baby in two years....
Or she could have been referring to literally 2 of anything else. I honestly have no idea, but if I do end up with twins someday I'll have a good laugh over it.
Anyway, so later that evening we went back to church for the evening service and participated in worship. Our team went up and sang some songs in English. It was very sweet and it was a blessing that they invited us to do that.
 |
| Why do they have a Manora on their wall? I have no idea... |
Anyway. I hope you enjoyed my stories. There will be more.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
God's Grace and Guatemala
Ha! Here I am, actually blogging when I said I would! Who knew it was possible?
So, let's just dive right in shall we?
Was I prepared for this trip?
Not really. In spite of the preparation we did in meetings and the suggested readings (I completed none of that because I am terrible with assigned reading- I did read some though) and the time I spent reading the Bible, I wasn't prepared for what I would encounter. I had an idea- even images to associate with that idea-of what the conditions there would look like. What I would be doing when I got there. My level of usefulness. The level of poverty, the amount of need. All of my presuppositions were incorrect.
And you know what? That was okay.
At first I was a little disappointed that we weren't working as hard or as much as I had expected to. I didn't feel useful at first. And honestly, at first we weren't all that useful. We got there a day earlier than they were prepared for us to (projects-wise) and so the first day we pretty much just got a tour of the Hope of Life campus and the closest village and then we were left to our own devices. And they had a pool. A nice one. That we spent more time in than we probably should have. So at first it felt a little vacation-y to me, and I felt guilt. But it was not a vacation, and it was a formative event in my life that I hope influences all my future ministry and financial choices.
Many of you know that I was skeptical about the idea of participating in a short term mission trip. I've technically been on two before, one for Katrina clean up in Mississippi, and the other for an international choir tour in Europe. The former was so brief I hardly count it, and the latter involved a lot more fun than ministry (for me personally). I also have adopted some of my views on missions from Bryan friends who have grown up in the mission field. But I know that I was called to this mission. There are very few instances in my life that I can point to and say that I had any sort of clarity about my choices. However, in this instance, I was certain.
Something else I wasn't prepared for was the beauty of it. It was truly awe inspiring.
How did it go?
So, let's just dive right in shall we?
Was I prepared for this trip?
Not really. In spite of the preparation we did in meetings and the suggested readings (I completed none of that because I am terrible with assigned reading- I did read some though) and the time I spent reading the Bible, I wasn't prepared for what I would encounter. I had an idea- even images to associate with that idea-of what the conditions there would look like. What I would be doing when I got there. My level of usefulness. The level of poverty, the amount of need. All of my presuppositions were incorrect.
And you know what? That was okay.
At first I was a little disappointed that we weren't working as hard or as much as I had expected to. I didn't feel useful at first. And honestly, at first we weren't all that useful. We got there a day earlier than they were prepared for us to (projects-wise) and so the first day we pretty much just got a tour of the Hope of Life campus and the closest village and then we were left to our own devices. And they had a pool. A nice one. That we spent more time in than we probably should have. So at first it felt a little vacation-y to me, and I felt guilt. But it was not a vacation, and it was a formative event in my life that I hope influences all my future ministry and financial choices.
Many of you know that I was skeptical about the idea of participating in a short term mission trip. I've technically been on two before, one for Katrina clean up in Mississippi, and the other for an international choir tour in Europe. The former was so brief I hardly count it, and the latter involved a lot more fun than ministry (for me personally). I also have adopted some of my views on missions from Bryan friends who have grown up in the mission field. But I know that I was called to this mission. There are very few instances in my life that I can point to and say that I had any sort of clarity about my choices. However, in this instance, I was certain.
Something else I wasn't prepared for was the beauty of it. It was truly awe inspiring.
 |
| This was the view from the Orphanage. HoL you're doing it right. |
How did it go?
Well. Was it perfect? No. Nothing is perfect in this world. But I was blessed by the experience and I'm glad I got to go. We were expecting to do a lot of hard labor, and while we had some of that, it wasn't as all encompassing as the majority of us had planned for. We did a lot of interpersonal work with children, orphans, and seniors.
 |
| We moved a lot of logs though. A lot. |
There are so many stories from this trip, I don't even know where to begin. But I'll start with this girl, who I met on the first day we arrived.
I can't even tell you her name (I don't remember if the hospital workers knew her name), but I can tell you the piece of her story I know and shared in. She is a recent rescue from one of the secluded mountain villages in the surrounding area. Hope of Life runs rescue operations to retrieve starving children and elderly on a regular basis. She was brought in a few days before we got there. She weighs between 15 and 20 lbs. She is 15 years old. That little girl somehow survived being severely malnourished for 15 years. She has very little brain function and has to be fed through a feeding tube. She was crying when we visited. So another member of the team stroked her hair and I sang and played my uke because that's all we could do. That is literally all we could do. We couldn't even hold her without causing her more pain.
I can honestly say one of things I struggled with most on this trip was not why this is allowed to happen. I understand that sin has completely ravaged this world and pain and death are a part of it. What I struggled to understand was why her. And what good could possibly come from allowing a little girl to starve into her adolescence to the point of entering a vegetative state. Many of the children they rescue recover and lead healthy lives. This little girl has no chance of that. WHY?
We read through several Psalms during the trip, and one of them was Psalm 73. It basically asks God why the wicked prosper and the good and righteous are left to ruin. Basically why do bad things happen to good people and bad people flourish? The basic conclusion we came to, and the only logical one you can come to I'd argue, is that it is not for us to understand why. We are finite beings who serve an infinite and omniscient God. There is room for heartache, pain, and even a lack of understanding, but we must have faith in God's holy plans. Because that's all we can do.
We were protected from major catastrophe and blessed in a lot of unexpected ways as a group. Individually I can only account for myself. I was changed and truly humbled. And I am truly thankful in ways I never knew I would be. Because through it all God is good.
Pray for that girl. Pray for so many more just like her. And remember that one day He will make all things new.
My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. -Psalm 73:26
There will be more soon, there were so many stories to share, one blog post couldn't possibly do them justice.
Here's my short vlog about it as well:
God bless.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Discouraged - Disheartened - Dissatisfied RED HEADED REALISM
I think I do my best writing when I'm unhappy. Is that normal?
I have been applying to jobs today. And the day before. And the day before that. And it goes on and on and on and on. Strangers! Waiting! Up and down the boule... wait, that's Journey.
But seriously, I am so unhappy. I put on a good face every Sunday when my church family asks me how I am, but I am not good. I am bad. Which is the opposite of good. I should be doing something productive with my life. But I don't know how to move forward. I feel like I'm perpetually stuck on an everlasting treadmill. Today I made a profile on care.com to be a babysitter/nanny. But I really don't want that. I've been watching other people's children since childhood. I've been doing it so long that if it were the military I would be a sergeant by now.
The trouble is, even if I knew what would make me happiest and/or God happiest I don't know that I have the ability to attain it! I mean, what does a girl have to do to get ahead in the world?
That's not a rhetorical question, I'd love an answer.
In 5 days it will be exactly a year since I graduated college. And what do I have to show for it? NOTHING. Not one thing. Oh wait! I have a car that needs a massive brake overhaul, so there's that. I still work at the YMCA. I still live with my parents. I am still stuck in childhood and I don't know what to do.
I remember being so frustrated in my last year at Bryan that no professor or mentor could quell my fears about life beyond school. They had no magic formula for how to make it in life. How to be successful and attractive and make people just hand you things. And as far as work hard and things will happen for you, well that is crap because I am a really hard worker. But that is completely irrelevant when no one will give you work! What my frustration boils down to is that it doesn't matter how skilled, talented, adaptable, intelligent or even experienced I am. None of that seems to matter at all.
I am the definition of stuck in a rut. I'm pretty sure that if you type that into google a picture of me pops up.
...actually this comes up:
But that is still super depressing! Oy. Let go and let God is so easy to say. But in practice...
Lord help me.
-Red Headed Realism
I have been applying to jobs today. And the day before. And the day before that. And it goes on and on and on and on. Strangers! Waiting! Up and down the boule... wait, that's Journey.
But seriously, I am so unhappy. I put on a good face every Sunday when my church family asks me how I am, but I am not good. I am bad. Which is the opposite of good. I should be doing something productive with my life. But I don't know how to move forward. I feel like I'm perpetually stuck on an everlasting treadmill. Today I made a profile on care.com to be a babysitter/nanny. But I really don't want that. I've been watching other people's children since childhood. I've been doing it so long that if it were the military I would be a sergeant by now.
The trouble is, even if I knew what would make me happiest and/or God happiest I don't know that I have the ability to attain it! I mean, what does a girl have to do to get ahead in the world?
That's not a rhetorical question, I'd love an answer.
In 5 days it will be exactly a year since I graduated college. And what do I have to show for it? NOTHING. Not one thing. Oh wait! I have a car that needs a massive brake overhaul, so there's that. I still work at the YMCA. I still live with my parents. I am still stuck in childhood and I don't know what to do.
I remember being so frustrated in my last year at Bryan that no professor or mentor could quell my fears about life beyond school. They had no magic formula for how to make it in life. How to be successful and attractive and make people just hand you things. And as far as work hard and things will happen for you, well that is crap because I am a really hard worker. But that is completely irrelevant when no one will give you work! What my frustration boils down to is that it doesn't matter how skilled, talented, adaptable, intelligent or even experienced I am. None of that seems to matter at all.
I am the definition of stuck in a rut. I'm pretty sure that if you type that into google a picture of me pops up.
...actually this comes up:
But that is still super depressing! Oy. Let go and let God is so easy to say. But in practice...
Lord help me.
-Red Headed Realism
Monday, April 22, 2013
Guatemala Update
So I've sent out support letters and in them I said that one could follow my progress on my blog, and then I didn't blog again. I am so bad about follow through- at least when it comes to my internet presence. But alas, I am blogging now! So get ready to have your socks blogged off!
I'm sure you're all dying to know how close I am to achieving my support raising goal of $1600. Well, I have raised... $300 so far. And actually $230 of that was my own money. So the dough isn't exactly rolling in. However, I am still optimistic and certain that I will get the support I need. I guess I'll know for sure in about a month, as the next deposit (of $700) is due May 12th.
Also, as an aside on fund raising, the Dig a Well fund reached $5,000!! This is huge because while our goal was $10,000 the amount we have is enough to dig a well. The more we raise after this just allows us to dig a well for a more remote (and therefore more desperate) village. So we are going to dig a well no matter what, but if we can raise more then we can dig one for people who are more secluded and less likely to have the ability to travel to a source of water. So keep sending people to ImGonnaDigAWell.com to donate and download the song.
As far as my spiritual needs go, I would ask for prayer in the area of devotion and focus. I feel thoroughly devoted to this mission, but it's still in the theoretical/not-here-yet stage. I am struggling to buckle down and really start working on preparation. We have suggested readings and I've read minuscule amounts from both books. And my scripture reading? Let's just say I'm not doing enough of it. I want to be a good servant, but I keep allowing myself to be distracted by different things in my life, especially my job situation. God has blessed me with sporadic work, so I've been kept busy between different odd jobs and applying for things all over creation. That shouldn't be an excuse however, for allowing my spiritual life to be pushed aside. So I would appreciate prayers for those things.
I really hate to use the Bryan buzzword community, but being outside of the super Christ-centered Bryan community has made it harder to prioritize things. I'm sure I'm not the only Bryan grad to struggle with this and I won't pretend my situation is unique. But I know that I need help. I need prayer.
Thank you for reading.
I'm sure you're all dying to know how close I am to achieving my support raising goal of $1600. Well, I have raised... $300 so far. And actually $230 of that was my own money. So the dough isn't exactly rolling in. However, I am still optimistic and certain that I will get the support I need. I guess I'll know for sure in about a month, as the next deposit (of $700) is due May 12th.
Also, as an aside on fund raising, the Dig a Well fund reached $5,000!! This is huge because while our goal was $10,000 the amount we have is enough to dig a well. The more we raise after this just allows us to dig a well for a more remote (and therefore more desperate) village. So we are going to dig a well no matter what, but if we can raise more then we can dig one for people who are more secluded and less likely to have the ability to travel to a source of water. So keep sending people to ImGonnaDigAWell.com to donate and download the song.
As far as my spiritual needs go, I would ask for prayer in the area of devotion and focus. I feel thoroughly devoted to this mission, but it's still in the theoretical/not-here-yet stage. I am struggling to buckle down and really start working on preparation. We have suggested readings and I've read minuscule amounts from both books. And my scripture reading? Let's just say I'm not doing enough of it. I want to be a good servant, but I keep allowing myself to be distracted by different things in my life, especially my job situation. God has blessed me with sporadic work, so I've been kept busy between different odd jobs and applying for things all over creation. That shouldn't be an excuse however, for allowing my spiritual life to be pushed aside. So I would appreciate prayers for those things.
I really hate to use the Bryan buzzword community, but being outside of the super Christ-centered Bryan community has made it harder to prioritize things. I'm sure I'm not the only Bryan grad to struggle with this and I won't pretend my situation is unique. But I know that I need help. I need prayer.
Thank you for reading.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Guatemala
I'm going to Guatemala. From June 28th to July 6th.
Yeah. Me. The palest human being on earth is going to spend a week outside doing hard labor in a 3rd world country in the scorching heat. I hope customs is okay with sunscreen...
Am I scared? Not as much as I probably should be. Am I ready? No. Am I supposed to go? Definitely. As soon as my church announced that we would be sending another team to assist Hope of Life (an amazing missions organization in Guatemala that is actually run by Guatemalans) I knew that I needed to be on that team. And not just because I helped record the song Sue Fabisch wrote about digging a well there. Seriously, download it!! Dig a Well I just knew in my heart that I had to go.
I don't want anyone thinking that I take the decision lightly, I'm actually still struggling with my feelings on short term missions. Short term mission trips often become more about indulging the "missionary" rather than helping anyone. A lot of American Christians (or sometimes just church-goers) go on these trips to fulfill their craving for adventure under the banner of helping others. Still others go to satisfy their feeling of obligation to complete acts of service. I'm not going to go into a discussion of grace by works vs. grace by faith, but I will say that I think it's wrong to do something just because you feel like you should. If you're committing to a mission just to check it off of a list, there is something wrong.
I want my mission to be the people of Guatemala- the children who don't have food and clean water, mothers who have to give up their babies because they can't feed them- these are people who desperately need a savior. They don't need a group of Americans to come in and fix their lives. And I pray that we don't allow that kind of thinking to even enter our minds. I just want to be an instrument of the Lord and do my best to honor him through everything I do while there.
So I ask that you pray for me and with me as I prepare for this mission. Pray for wisdom, pray for grace (especially for my pasty skin), and pray for my Spanish skills (they could definitely use some help). I also need help financially, so you could definitely pray for that (I need to raise $1400).
God is good, and I know that He will use me in mighty ways.
Thanks for reading!
-Nicole
Yeah. Me. The palest human being on earth is going to spend a week outside doing hard labor in a 3rd world country in the scorching heat. I hope customs is okay with sunscreen...
Am I scared? Not as much as I probably should be. Am I ready? No. Am I supposed to go? Definitely. As soon as my church announced that we would be sending another team to assist Hope of Life (an amazing missions organization in Guatemala that is actually run by Guatemalans) I knew that I needed to be on that team. And not just because I helped record the song Sue Fabisch wrote about digging a well there. Seriously, download it!! Dig a Well I just knew in my heart that I had to go.
I don't want anyone thinking that I take the decision lightly, I'm actually still struggling with my feelings on short term missions. Short term mission trips often become more about indulging the "missionary" rather than helping anyone. A lot of American Christians (or sometimes just church-goers) go on these trips to fulfill their craving for adventure under the banner of helping others. Still others go to satisfy their feeling of obligation to complete acts of service. I'm not going to go into a discussion of grace by works vs. grace by faith, but I will say that I think it's wrong to do something just because you feel like you should. If you're committing to a mission just to check it off of a list, there is something wrong.
I want my mission to be the people of Guatemala- the children who don't have food and clean water, mothers who have to give up their babies because they can't feed them- these are people who desperately need a savior. They don't need a group of Americans to come in and fix their lives. And I pray that we don't allow that kind of thinking to even enter our minds. I just want to be an instrument of the Lord and do my best to honor him through everything I do while there.
So I ask that you pray for me and with me as I prepare for this mission. Pray for wisdom, pray for grace (especially for my pasty skin), and pray for my Spanish skills (they could definitely use some help). I also need help financially, so you could definitely pray for that (I need to raise $1400).
God is good, and I know that He will use me in mighty ways.
Thanks for reading!
-Nicole
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Finding Purpose in the Everyday
The title of my blog is "Going for Greatness."
But I haven't been doing that.
I have been wallowing in a sense of low self esteem and feeling of no accomplishment. I dislike my job, am not making enough money to afford loan payments and I just don't feel like I'm doing anything useful with my life right now. My ministry outreach is minuscule, as I really just don't interact with enough people to share the gospel or my testimony. I don't feel like I've done anything worthwhile in months. I've graduated college to find the world just doesn't care about my dreams and I have been at a loss for what to do about it.
So I've wallowed. Honestly that is the best word I can think of to describe my current situation. I'm wallowing. I had committed to trying to find a good job in my field, but that hasn't worked out the way I wanted it to and so I've started bemoaning my poor circumstance and lack of excitement in my life. At this juncture I don't even care so much about excitement, I'd just settle for some consistency and a semblance of a decent paycheck.
But that's not going for greatness. That's being a loser. I've let myself become a loser.
Me. Nicole Thomas. An intelligent, well spoken, witty, vivacious, talented, red headed loser.
Wait. Those adjectives shouldn't precede the word loser.
Which is why I've come to this point. I can't control everything. God has me in this station in life for a reason and just because I don't know why I'm here or what I'm supposed to be doing doesn't mean that I have no purpose. It's not like God lost track of me and that's why my life is currently so miserable. I bought into a lie. My enemy has convinced me that I'm not worth better things.
But not anymore. Today I may not earn a cent, but I have a changed heart and mind, and an understanding of my life that is worth more than money could offer. I have purpose. I may not know what I'm going to be doing tomorrow, or the next day, or how much money I'll earn, but I know that I am where God wants me to be. And by trusting God, I am getting that much closer to greatness.
I have given you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. John 16:33
But I haven't been doing that.
I have been wallowing in a sense of low self esteem and feeling of no accomplishment. I dislike my job, am not making enough money to afford loan payments and I just don't feel like I'm doing anything useful with my life right now. My ministry outreach is minuscule, as I really just don't interact with enough people to share the gospel or my testimony. I don't feel like I've done anything worthwhile in months. I've graduated college to find the world just doesn't care about my dreams and I have been at a loss for what to do about it.
So I've wallowed. Honestly that is the best word I can think of to describe my current situation. I'm wallowing. I had committed to trying to find a good job in my field, but that hasn't worked out the way I wanted it to and so I've started bemoaning my poor circumstance and lack of excitement in my life. At this juncture I don't even care so much about excitement, I'd just settle for some consistency and a semblance of a decent paycheck.
But that's not going for greatness. That's being a loser. I've let myself become a loser.
Me. Nicole Thomas. An intelligent, well spoken, witty, vivacious, talented, red headed loser.
Wait. Those adjectives shouldn't precede the word loser.
Which is why I've come to this point. I can't control everything. God has me in this station in life for a reason and just because I don't know why I'm here or what I'm supposed to be doing doesn't mean that I have no purpose. It's not like God lost track of me and that's why my life is currently so miserable. I bought into a lie. My enemy has convinced me that I'm not worth better things.
But not anymore. Today I may not earn a cent, but I have a changed heart and mind, and an understanding of my life that is worth more than money could offer. I have purpose. I may not know what I'm going to be doing tomorrow, or the next day, or how much money I'll earn, but I know that I am where God wants me to be. And by trusting God, I am getting that much closer to greatness.
I have given you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. John 16:33
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
What's on my mind
What is on my mind?
...the Big Apple. That's what.
What if I lived there? Just for a summer? Could I handle city life? Should I make a leap so big?
I don't know. I think I'm just gonna try and see what I can find and if an opportunity presents itself... that's where I'll be.
In other news, we have puppies now. They are so cute. Ours is named Sawyer, after Sawyer from LOST. Kyle's (from the same litter as Sawyer) is named Baxter. They are incredibly adorable. Trust me. There will be pictures at some point.
I miss my friends from school terribly and am still adjusting to the idea of not living with many of my graduated senior friends... and Linja will be out of the country! What the fat?! But I love it and I'm so excited for all of these people. Your lives are going in new and exciting directions I'm sure.
On that note does anyone remember that book Oh the Places You'll Go? I feel like that book filled a lot of kids with a lot of false hope.
Other things... I saw Yentl today. Barbra has got some pipes. And Inigo Montoya as a Jew! It's awesome.
And... OH! SUPER 8. Looks amazing.
Seriously, the trailer gives me goose bumps.
June 8th get here!!!
Okay, that's all I got.
...the Big Apple. That's what.
What if I lived there? Just for a summer? Could I handle city life? Should I make a leap so big?
I don't know. I think I'm just gonna try and see what I can find and if an opportunity presents itself... that's where I'll be.
In other news, we have puppies now. They are so cute. Ours is named Sawyer, after Sawyer from LOST. Kyle's (from the same litter as Sawyer) is named Baxter. They are incredibly adorable. Trust me. There will be pictures at some point.
I miss my friends from school terribly and am still adjusting to the idea of not living with many of my graduated senior friends... and Linja will be out of the country! What the fat?! But I love it and I'm so excited for all of these people. Your lives are going in new and exciting directions I'm sure.
On that note does anyone remember that book Oh the Places You'll Go? I feel like that book filled a lot of kids with a lot of false hope.
Other things... I saw Yentl today. Barbra has got some pipes. And Inigo Montoya as a Jew! It's awesome.
And... OH! SUPER 8. Looks amazing.
Seriously, the trailer gives me goose bumps.
June 8th get here!!!
Okay, that's all I got.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
The Greatest Compliment
Before I get to the serious subject of this post, I'll start with a story.
A couple of weeks ago we had Jr/Sr Banquet here at Bryan. Part of the process entails getting on buses and riding to far (or not so far) away destinations. Well I happened to end up on a very fun bus along with star soccer player extraordinaire Harry Sherwood.
He started up a game called "Mixed Tape" where basically everyone just sings stuff and you can jump in with anything if you know it. Well there came a pause after some song had died out and I chimed in with "It's Raining Men". I got a couple of lines out and realized that no one was joining in with me and trailed off, slightly embarrassed. Then I heard the voice of said British soccer champion extraordinaire say, "You can't play if you can actually sing." This is one of the greatest compliments I've ever received. I mean, I've had people tell me I can sing before, but never in a super cool accent like that. It was pretty sweet.
But on a more serious note, I'd like to talk about what I consider to be the greatest compliment I could ever receive from a friend.
The greatest compliment I've received is to know that a friend considers me loyal. Loyalty is something I value highly. To know that someone loves you enough to always be willing to stand by you, no matter what your trial or ordeal, is the greatest absolute you can ever have. A good friend will not abandon you no matter what you may have done to offend or reject them, because they know how to forgive and love in spite of your failures and fallen-ness. Everyone struggles with maintaining friendships, especially in times of transition, like moving from high school to college, or even moving up in class throughout college. The dynamics of my friendships are constantly shifting. But I try my best to love all of my friends well, even if I don't get to spend as much time with them as I once did. I don't give up on friendships, even when that seems the easier option.
Once my friend, always my friend, unless you do something near-unforgivable like kill my parents or something (Drewber and Sweeny!).
Well, that's how I feel about that. I love my friends!
Nicole
A couple of weeks ago we had Jr/Sr Banquet here at Bryan. Part of the process entails getting on buses and riding to far (or not so far) away destinations. Well I happened to end up on a very fun bus along with star soccer player extraordinaire Harry Sherwood.
 | ||||||||||
| pictured here being awesome |
But on a more serious note, I'd like to talk about what I consider to be the greatest compliment I could ever receive from a friend.
The greatest compliment I've received is to know that a friend considers me loyal. Loyalty is something I value highly. To know that someone loves you enough to always be willing to stand by you, no matter what your trial or ordeal, is the greatest absolute you can ever have. A good friend will not abandon you no matter what you may have done to offend or reject them, because they know how to forgive and love in spite of your failures and fallen-ness. Everyone struggles with maintaining friendships, especially in times of transition, like moving from high school to college, or even moving up in class throughout college. The dynamics of my friendships are constantly shifting. But I try my best to love all of my friends well, even if I don't get to spend as much time with them as I once did. I don't give up on friendships, even when that seems the easier option.
Once my friend, always my friend, unless you do something near-unforgivable like kill my parents or something (Drewber and Sweeny!).
Well, that's how I feel about that. I love my friends!
Nicole
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
2010... new year, new ideas, new stories!
Oh, new year that cometh... what dost thou bring?
...ummm.... yeah, I don't know what that was.
Thus far the new decade isn't all that promising. But who knows, right?
...anyway. In other news, I am reading The Lovely Bones before the movie comes out. So far it's good. It's depressing... but good.
Well, wish me luck on my writing. This is a good story. A really good one. I can feel it. I'm going to call it Letters from the Sky. Yeah, I know that's a song by Civil Twilight. I love that song.
Later.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
HOW TO: Make a Great Advertisement
Kyle really wants this to get seen by people... it's funny. Take a look.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
The Beginning
I had to ride the bus that day. It was really frustrating because my truck had just been given a clean bill of health after spending weeks in the shop with problems that I didn’t even know how to spell. Trouble was, I’d forgotten to get the stupid emissions tested. So, that morning at five thirty I woke up to the sound of incessant beeping and a snippet of a song came to me as I reached over to end the terrible noise. Alarm clock screaming monsters coming my way… What was it from? I couldn’t remember at the time, so I flung myself out of bed, tired and a little irritated, knowing that it would bother me all day until I remembered.
My tiny apartment was abysmally gray that morning, since the sun hadn’t come up and only one lamp had a bulb that worked. I was so broke. I ate my cereal by the light of my single working lamp and ruminated on what an uneventful day I had ahead of me. How was I to know that the world was going to change that morning? I was planning on going to see Mom because Dad was out of town, and I hated to see her have to deal with my younger siblings all by herself. But before that I had work. And before work came the dreaded stench of public transportation.
So there I was on the bus again. I hate the bus. Kids, drunks, and old fat ladies all crammed together in one claustrophobic metallic tube. I felt filthy when I was on it. But on this particular day, I only shared the bus with three other people, including the driver; all of whom kept their distance, for which I was very grateful.
I fell asleep with my head leaning against the window. What woke me up-what woke the whole world up-made the ground shake and the bus driver slam on the brakes. I, along with the two other helpless passengers, went flying forward into whatever sat in front of us. I was lucky enough to be sitting in a seat that had a guardrail directly in front of it. Otherwise I probably would have gone through the windshield. The rail hit me in the sternum, knocking the wind out of me. I crumpled and fell to the ground.
A balding middle aged man was in the aisle next to me sporting a newly broken and bloodied nose caused by his recent crash to the floor. He regained his feet and then extended his hand to help me. Once we were up he spoke. “Are you alright?” I looked down at my stomach, wincing at the pain, but replied with “Yeah, you?” anyway. “Ah, I’ll be fine.” But he didn’t look fine. Then my eyes fell on the other passenger.
The man with the broken nose walked past me toward the front of the bus, but I barely noticed him. The other passenger was a woman. A pregnant woman. She was pretty far along from what I could tell. Tears were streaming down her face. She had herself propped up against one of the seats and was holding her stomach. I walked towards her, and as I got closer I heard her whispering, “Oh God, please God, Oh…” I crouched down beside her. Her long brown hair had fallen into her face as she sat rocking back and forth looking down at her belly.
“Ma’am? Are you okay?” She was startled at the sound of my voice, but she regained some of her composure and said through choked sobs, “He’s dead, I know he is, he’s gone, Oh God!” She latched on to me and just wept into my shoulder. I tried my best to console her, tried to ask her how she had landed, but she just wailed into my shirt. I took her by the shoulders and literally yanked her off of me and looked into her face. “Hey! It’s gonna be okay… you don’t know that. Now tell me how you fell.” She seemed shocked, but she didn’t start up again. Instead she answered that she had been thrown into the back of the seat in front of her, her stomach taking most of the blow.
“I’m telling you, I’ve lost my son! I shouldn’t even be on this stupid bus! I want to go home! I just… I… I just can’t…” Her words started to trail off into little moans, and I took her hand and helped her to her feet. When I turned I noticed that the driver and the other man were no longer on the bus. I started forward, the pregnant woman in tow, her hand clutching mine in a death grip.
I led her off the bus, into the crowded street. I found the man who had helped me up and I laid my hand on his shoulder. He turned. His face had gone very pale. The driver was close, but he was turned away from me. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?” He didn’t respond. Perhaps couldn’t. He simply turned. My gaze followed his past the driver. Off in the distance, the sky had gone dark. Very dark. It was like staring into nothingness. The sun should have been up; but the darkness was coming from the east.
I managed to tear my eyes from it when I started to feel pins and needles in my left hand. The pregnant woman was still holding on, so tightly that she had cut off my circulation. Her face was blank and motionless, staring into the dark. I pulled my hand free but she didn’t seem to care. She just kept staring into the blackness. I approached the bus driver. “Excuse me. Sir? Hello?” He finally looked down at me, his eyes still glassy and horrified. “What happened? Did you see it?”
My tiny apartment was abysmally gray that morning, since the sun hadn’t come up and only one lamp had a bulb that worked. I was so broke. I ate my cereal by the light of my single working lamp and ruminated on what an uneventful day I had ahead of me. How was I to know that the world was going to change that morning? I was planning on going to see Mom because Dad was out of town, and I hated to see her have to deal with my younger siblings all by herself. But before that I had work. And before work came the dreaded stench of public transportation.
So there I was on the bus again. I hate the bus. Kids, drunks, and old fat ladies all crammed together in one claustrophobic metallic tube. I felt filthy when I was on it. But on this particular day, I only shared the bus with three other people, including the driver; all of whom kept their distance, for which I was very grateful.
I fell asleep with my head leaning against the window. What woke me up-what woke the whole world up-made the ground shake and the bus driver slam on the brakes. I, along with the two other helpless passengers, went flying forward into whatever sat in front of us. I was lucky enough to be sitting in a seat that had a guardrail directly in front of it. Otherwise I probably would have gone through the windshield. The rail hit me in the sternum, knocking the wind out of me. I crumpled and fell to the ground.
A balding middle aged man was in the aisle next to me sporting a newly broken and bloodied nose caused by his recent crash to the floor. He regained his feet and then extended his hand to help me. Once we were up he spoke. “Are you alright?” I looked down at my stomach, wincing at the pain, but replied with “Yeah, you?” anyway. “Ah, I’ll be fine.” But he didn’t look fine. Then my eyes fell on the other passenger.
The man with the broken nose walked past me toward the front of the bus, but I barely noticed him. The other passenger was a woman. A pregnant woman. She was pretty far along from what I could tell. Tears were streaming down her face. She had herself propped up against one of the seats and was holding her stomach. I walked towards her, and as I got closer I heard her whispering, “Oh God, please God, Oh…” I crouched down beside her. Her long brown hair had fallen into her face as she sat rocking back and forth looking down at her belly.
“Ma’am? Are you okay?” She was startled at the sound of my voice, but she regained some of her composure and said through choked sobs, “He’s dead, I know he is, he’s gone, Oh God!” She latched on to me and just wept into my shoulder. I tried my best to console her, tried to ask her how she had landed, but she just wailed into my shirt. I took her by the shoulders and literally yanked her off of me and looked into her face. “Hey! It’s gonna be okay… you don’t know that. Now tell me how you fell.” She seemed shocked, but she didn’t start up again. Instead she answered that she had been thrown into the back of the seat in front of her, her stomach taking most of the blow.
“I’m telling you, I’ve lost my son! I shouldn’t even be on this stupid bus! I want to go home! I just… I… I just can’t…” Her words started to trail off into little moans, and I took her hand and helped her to her feet. When I turned I noticed that the driver and the other man were no longer on the bus. I started forward, the pregnant woman in tow, her hand clutching mine in a death grip.
I led her off the bus, into the crowded street. I found the man who had helped me up and I laid my hand on his shoulder. He turned. His face had gone very pale. The driver was close, but he was turned away from me. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?” He didn’t respond. Perhaps couldn’t. He simply turned. My gaze followed his past the driver. Off in the distance, the sky had gone dark. Very dark. It was like staring into nothingness. The sun should have been up; but the darkness was coming from the east.
I managed to tear my eyes from it when I started to feel pins and needles in my left hand. The pregnant woman was still holding on, so tightly that she had cut off my circulation. Her face was blank and motionless, staring into the dark. I pulled my hand free but she didn’t seem to care. She just kept staring into the blackness. I approached the bus driver. “Excuse me. Sir? Hello?” He finally looked down at me, his eyes still glassy and horrified. “What happened? Did you see it?”
It Is Well In The Wastelands
This is a story that I've had inside me for at least two years now, maybe more. It comes out in little spurts, and I think of it often. But now I need to translate the images in my mind into words, because I think this story is one that the whole world can appreciate. And if not the whole world, then at least my friends and family.
The premise is fairly simple. The United States is attacked and government and social order completely falls apart. The story focuses on how a group of survivors cope with the new world they've been thrust into.
The main character (and her family) is loosely based on my own nature and family. There are several characters that come into the story that you may recognize if you know me well.
I will post some excerpts here, as I finish them and am satisfied with the results. But a lot of it will need to be revised and edited and read over many many times before I can do anything serious with it.
I hope you enjoy what you read, and please give me feedback. I would really appreciate it.
Look for another piece of the story soon.
-Nicole
The premise is fairly simple. The United States is attacked and government and social order completely falls apart. The story focuses on how a group of survivors cope with the new world they've been thrust into.
The main character (and her family) is loosely based on my own nature and family. There are several characters that come into the story that you may recognize if you know me well.
I will post some excerpts here, as I finish them and am satisfied with the results. But a lot of it will need to be revised and edited and read over many many times before I can do anything serious with it.
I hope you enjoy what you read, and please give me feedback. I would really appreciate it.
Look for another piece of the story soon.
-Nicole
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Discordia
Discordia
January 2008, it was raining. Hard.
It was just a simple supply run- nothing particularly special about it. We needed more drugs for my mother, because the sickness was eating away at her. It wouldn’t be long now. I knew it, and so did David. We didn’t want to go, because the storm was close and growing louder by the minute. I remember climbing into my pickup, laying the shotgun on the seat next to me and thinking that it was a bad idea to leave her alone.
But I was afraid to go by myself. I had done it once before and failed to bring anything home but a broken rib. So Dave got into the passenger seat, his right hand tightly gripping Dad’s Beretta, and said, “We make this as fast as possible. We go in, we get the meds, we get out. Do not get separated. Got it?” I nodded. I was terrified.
I started the truck and turned on the wipers. The rain was pounding now. I drove down the road towards the store. Something was wrong. I could hear ticking. It was like a watch, counting down the days, hours, and minutes I had left. Or maybe that someone else had left. I thought of Mom again. Something was off. Too late to turn back. I suppose I was afraid of what I might be forced to do. I had never killed anyone before. David had, to save me, to take care of our family he had done what he needed to do. I didn’t know if I could bring myself to do it.
As we rode through the desolation that was once a fairly normal neighborhood I saw a boy bash a dog’s head in with a stone. He looked hungry. I felt myself almost lose it again. It’s hard to fathom if you pause for more than an instant to think about it. The explosions in the distance, the sirens, and the weather… all of it seemed so unreal, so impossible. In that instant I just knew that I would wake up in a padded room. That it was all some terrible hoax. But the boy was still kneeling beside the corpse in the rain, and I was still driving. And just like that, I was back again.
We were almost there when it happened- another event that would alter my life completely. Only this time it wasn’t a nuclear attack. It was right there. There in the rain.
I didn’t see it happen. I only heard David yell and then there was pain and blood. I lost control of the truck. I didn’t fully lose consciousness, but I became disoriented. It all happened so fast. I was being dragged backward and upward, through the window and out of the truck, the glass ripping into my clothes and scraping the skin beneath.
Concrete. The truck was still rolling forward. Away from me. David had to keep going. That was the only vehicle we had, and transportation was one of our most valuable assets. I just knew that he had taken the wheel and gotten into the driver’s seat. I hoped that he had. Hoped that he would go home to mom, take care of her, and not worry about me. I was a goner. I knew that. I could feel warm blood on my cheeks. My blood. Leaving me behind was the right thing to do. A part of me, as terrified as I was, wanted him to leave me. I was ready to die.
But there was never any real hope for that. Only a fool’s hope. David loved me more than anything in this world, and I really don’t think that he could survive long without me. He was strong, yes, but he needed me. Just like I needed him. Like Mom needed him. I guess he wasn’t thinking about that when he threw himself out of the car.
I hadn’t even processed that the truck had stopped when I heard gunfire. He was running towards me, towards the man who grabbed me, and shooting like crazy. He unloaded an entire clip. Before I knew it he was beside me telling me to get back in the truck. I didn’t get a chance to tell him I didn’t think I could drive before he pulled me up off the ground with such force that I nearly lost my balance and went down again. I started to stagger towards the smudge of red and gray I assumed was the truck. The world had taken on a kind of deafening silence, and that feeling of unreality gripped me again. Nevertheless, he was behind me, ushering me forward, toward safety.
For a brief moment, I thought everything was alright. That it had been a close call, but that we would be fine. We’d go home to Mom, find that she was actually feeling much better now, and go back for supplies later. I was three parking spaces away from the truck when I heard the shot. It rang out in the silence and brought with it all the sensation of sound and sight I had temporarily lost. At first, I didn’t know where it had come from. David was only a few paces behind me, and I assumed at first that it was him who fired the shot. But when I turned, I saw it.
A tall, lank figure of a man stood holding a revolver out in front of him. He was dark and had to have been at least six and a half feet tall. He had a grin on his face. I’ll never forget it for as long as I live. He was grinning. The barrel of his gun had a little wisp of smoke curling out of its end. My eyes fell on my brother, still standing, holding the Beretta limply in his right hand. His left hand was clapped over his forehead, like a man who has just remembered something very important. I didn’t see the blood sneaking out between his fingers at first. Maybe I didn’t want to. He slid to his knees, and then went down on his back. That’s when I saw it. That’s when I saw the hole the bullet had made. I nearly lost it again. There was that feeling of unreality, that there was no way this could be happening. But the rain beat down on us, and he lay there, dying.
When I reached his side he was murmuring something I couldn’t make out. Even when I bent closer to hear I couldn’t tell what he was trying to say. I still wonder what he was trying to tell me to this day. But there were no final words that passed between us. No dying sentiment about how much he loved me. No message to give Mom. No words. Just… spasms. Spasms caused by the bullet that scrambled his brains. I started to weep. It wasn’t just tears; it was everything. Everything inside just came pouring out. I tried to form words, thinking that maybe I could tell him something. The best I could manage was “It’s gonna be okay.” It was the biggest lie in the world, yet for some reason I couldn’t think of anything else to say. My eyes were hot with tears. I reached behind his head and felt his blood pouring out into the parking lot.
That’s when the ticking stopped. David stopped. No more jittering, no more spasms. Just me and my brother’s corpse together in the parking lot of the local market. He’d run away red through my fingers. It was all lost. Everything. I heard the man chuckle, and looked up as he started forward, toward my truck. I was lost in rage. Before I knew it I was up and running at the truck. He picked up speed and tried to grab me. I had reached the cab and gotten halfway in when he caught the back of my shirt. I reached for the shotgun and shoved the barrel into my assailant’s gut. I squeezed the trigger. He fell backward onto the wet pavement. He was coughing up blood and looking up at me, all the while with a stunned look on his face. As if he couldn’t believe that I had done it.
I cocked the gun and shot again. That shot took off his head. Through all of the blinding emotions I remember thinking it was odd that he hadn’t shot me like he shot David. I looked down at the body, bent over and pulled the revolver out of its holster. I opened it up to find no bullets. He’d spent his last shot on my brother. Sorrow came flooding back, replacing rage and draining me of all the adrenaline I’d just used to kill someone. He was gone. And so was I.
By Nicole Thomas
January 2008, it was raining. Hard.
It was just a simple supply run- nothing particularly special about it. We needed more drugs for my mother, because the sickness was eating away at her. It wouldn’t be long now. I knew it, and so did David. We didn’t want to go, because the storm was close and growing louder by the minute. I remember climbing into my pickup, laying the shotgun on the seat next to me and thinking that it was a bad idea to leave her alone.
But I was afraid to go by myself. I had done it once before and failed to bring anything home but a broken rib. So Dave got into the passenger seat, his right hand tightly gripping Dad’s Beretta, and said, “We make this as fast as possible. We go in, we get the meds, we get out. Do not get separated. Got it?” I nodded. I was terrified.
I started the truck and turned on the wipers. The rain was pounding now. I drove down the road towards the store. Something was wrong. I could hear ticking. It was like a watch, counting down the days, hours, and minutes I had left. Or maybe that someone else had left. I thought of Mom again. Something was off. Too late to turn back. I suppose I was afraid of what I might be forced to do. I had never killed anyone before. David had, to save me, to take care of our family he had done what he needed to do. I didn’t know if I could bring myself to do it.
As we rode through the desolation that was once a fairly normal neighborhood I saw a boy bash a dog’s head in with a stone. He looked hungry. I felt myself almost lose it again. It’s hard to fathom if you pause for more than an instant to think about it. The explosions in the distance, the sirens, and the weather… all of it seemed so unreal, so impossible. In that instant I just knew that I would wake up in a padded room. That it was all some terrible hoax. But the boy was still kneeling beside the corpse in the rain, and I was still driving. And just like that, I was back again.
We were almost there when it happened- another event that would alter my life completely. Only this time it wasn’t a nuclear attack. It was right there. There in the rain.
I didn’t see it happen. I only heard David yell and then there was pain and blood. I lost control of the truck. I didn’t fully lose consciousness, but I became disoriented. It all happened so fast. I was being dragged backward and upward, through the window and out of the truck, the glass ripping into my clothes and scraping the skin beneath.
Concrete. The truck was still rolling forward. Away from me. David had to keep going. That was the only vehicle we had, and transportation was one of our most valuable assets. I just knew that he had taken the wheel and gotten into the driver’s seat. I hoped that he had. Hoped that he would go home to mom, take care of her, and not worry about me. I was a goner. I knew that. I could feel warm blood on my cheeks. My blood. Leaving me behind was the right thing to do. A part of me, as terrified as I was, wanted him to leave me. I was ready to die.
But there was never any real hope for that. Only a fool’s hope. David loved me more than anything in this world, and I really don’t think that he could survive long without me. He was strong, yes, but he needed me. Just like I needed him. Like Mom needed him. I guess he wasn’t thinking about that when he threw himself out of the car.
I hadn’t even processed that the truck had stopped when I heard gunfire. He was running towards me, towards the man who grabbed me, and shooting like crazy. He unloaded an entire clip. Before I knew it he was beside me telling me to get back in the truck. I didn’t get a chance to tell him I didn’t think I could drive before he pulled me up off the ground with such force that I nearly lost my balance and went down again. I started to stagger towards the smudge of red and gray I assumed was the truck. The world had taken on a kind of deafening silence, and that feeling of unreality gripped me again. Nevertheless, he was behind me, ushering me forward, toward safety.
For a brief moment, I thought everything was alright. That it had been a close call, but that we would be fine. We’d go home to Mom, find that she was actually feeling much better now, and go back for supplies later. I was three parking spaces away from the truck when I heard the shot. It rang out in the silence and brought with it all the sensation of sound and sight I had temporarily lost. At first, I didn’t know where it had come from. David was only a few paces behind me, and I assumed at first that it was him who fired the shot. But when I turned, I saw it.
A tall, lank figure of a man stood holding a revolver out in front of him. He was dark and had to have been at least six and a half feet tall. He had a grin on his face. I’ll never forget it for as long as I live. He was grinning. The barrel of his gun had a little wisp of smoke curling out of its end. My eyes fell on my brother, still standing, holding the Beretta limply in his right hand. His left hand was clapped over his forehead, like a man who has just remembered something very important. I didn’t see the blood sneaking out between his fingers at first. Maybe I didn’t want to. He slid to his knees, and then went down on his back. That’s when I saw it. That’s when I saw the hole the bullet had made. I nearly lost it again. There was that feeling of unreality, that there was no way this could be happening. But the rain beat down on us, and he lay there, dying.
When I reached his side he was murmuring something I couldn’t make out. Even when I bent closer to hear I couldn’t tell what he was trying to say. I still wonder what he was trying to tell me to this day. But there were no final words that passed between us. No dying sentiment about how much he loved me. No message to give Mom. No words. Just… spasms. Spasms caused by the bullet that scrambled his brains. I started to weep. It wasn’t just tears; it was everything. Everything inside just came pouring out. I tried to form words, thinking that maybe I could tell him something. The best I could manage was “It’s gonna be okay.” It was the biggest lie in the world, yet for some reason I couldn’t think of anything else to say. My eyes were hot with tears. I reached behind his head and felt his blood pouring out into the parking lot.
That’s when the ticking stopped. David stopped. No more jittering, no more spasms. Just me and my brother’s corpse together in the parking lot of the local market. He’d run away red through my fingers. It was all lost. Everything. I heard the man chuckle, and looked up as he started forward, toward my truck. I was lost in rage. Before I knew it I was up and running at the truck. He picked up speed and tried to grab me. I had reached the cab and gotten halfway in when he caught the back of my shirt. I reached for the shotgun and shoved the barrel into my assailant’s gut. I squeezed the trigger. He fell backward onto the wet pavement. He was coughing up blood and looking up at me, all the while with a stunned look on his face. As if he couldn’t believe that I had done it.
I cocked the gun and shot again. That shot took off his head. Through all of the blinding emotions I remember thinking it was odd that he hadn’t shot me like he shot David. I looked down at the body, bent over and pulled the revolver out of its holster. I opened it up to find no bullets. He’d spent his last shot on my brother. Sorrow came flooding back, replacing rage and draining me of all the adrenaline I’d just used to kill someone. He was gone. And so was I.
By Nicole Thomas
Friday, January 16, 2009
Nicole has a blog now...
Hey world, it's me, Nicole. NicoletheRedHead actually. You may know me from my super popular YouTube channel... okay, it's really not that popular...yet. But you should check it out if you haven't yet. You should. You REALLY should.
http://www.youtube.com/Nicoletheredhead
Nicole in HD!
I suppose I should more properly introduce myself. My name is Nicole. I'm attending college in Dayton, TN. Bryan College- Christ Above All! I grew up in and still call Nashville my home. And, obviously, being from Nashville, I'm a musician. I'm a music major, vocal performance to be specific. I love movies, books, TV, musical theater, and pretty much all forms of media.
I LOVE COMIC BOOKS. I'm totally loyal to MARVEL comics, although I will admit that I did stoop to read Watchmen, which is published by DC, the sworn enemy of MARVEL. Anyway, while I'm on the subject of MARVEL comics, I might as well divulge that my favorite super hero and comic book character of all time is Wolverine. He is a fascinating character and he is brought to life brilliantly by one of my favorite actors and the Sexiest Man Alive, Hugh Jackman.
My first vehicle was a truck, and his name was LEONIDAS. That's right, Leonidas. And he was awesome. Until he was destroyed by a drunk Mexican.
I will post an excerpt from the book I'm "writing" soon.
Okay, I think you've learned enough about me for one post.
http://www.youtube.com/Nicoletheredhead
Nicole in HD!
I suppose I should more properly introduce myself. My name is Nicole. I'm attending college in Dayton, TN. Bryan College- Christ Above All! I grew up in and still call Nashville my home. And, obviously, being from Nashville, I'm a musician. I'm a music major, vocal performance to be specific. I love movies, books, TV, musical theater, and pretty much all forms of media.
I LOVE COMIC BOOKS. I'm totally loyal to MARVEL comics, although I will admit that I did stoop to read Watchmen, which is published by DC, the sworn enemy of MARVEL. Anyway, while I'm on the subject of MARVEL comics, I might as well divulge that my favorite super hero and comic book character of all time is Wolverine. He is a fascinating character and he is brought to life brilliantly by one of my favorite actors and the Sexiest Man Alive, Hugh Jackman.
My first vehicle was a truck, and his name was LEONIDAS. That's right, Leonidas. And he was awesome. Until he was destroyed by a drunk Mexican.
I will post an excerpt from the book I'm "writing" soon.
Okay, I think you've learned enough about me for one post.
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