Little Things Tuesday #32

I used to work at a Summer Camp as a lifeguard. It was very rewarding at times, and at other times very frustrating, but overall, I have some wonderful memories from the time spent on the deck and in the pool at Camp Hilbert. There’s always something special about that first swim of the summer. It’s like you’re finally able to immurse yourself in the fact that it’s actually summer. Even though I’m out in the real world now, and apparently someone somewhere thinks I’m an “adult”, I still love summer… and swimming in the summer, is glorious.

(Shout out to Meredith Rivers… wouldn’t have survived all of those summers without you. From the counselor ball, to making up the thunder that we always heard, to that ugly green table, and the Round 2 nights, and the sunflower seeds… you will always be one of my most favorite people in my life, and i wouldn’t trade a minute of sitting out there on that pool deck with you for anything in the world. and yes… i can take your free swim away from you if i want to, and you know EXACTLY why! love you!)


for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

i’m not a huge poetry connesuer. i write poems sometimes that rhyme in birthday cards, or in emails to cheer someone up, but they by no means are life changing or print worthy.

this poem is beautiful. it’s too amazing to not share.

i can hear a girlfriend, entering into a new relationship with a boy, and having all of these questions on her heart in regards to her new love and what his plans and intentions are for life.

i can hear a father, whispering softly to his newborn baby, assuring them that life is meant to be lived, and that it’s exciting, and adventerous.

i can hear my God, speaking to me through this poem, telling me that He’s there, and He’s not finished with me yet, and that His plans are perfect, and I don’t need to worry about what’s coming next… He’s got it under control.

so here it is, The Invitation:

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it’s not pretty, every day,and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”

It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Oriah Mountain Dreamer
copyright © 1999 by Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

Little Things Tuesday #16.

I love a good road trip. I don’t often drive long distances at night, but when night falls and you’re still on the road, you can’t help it. I love driving and looking at the moon. It’s so neat to me that I can see the moon (on most nights) from anywhere I go, whether it’s right outside of my front door, or while I’m driving 5 hours away. It gives me hope that someone out there is looking at the same moon that I am. I love roadtrips… It’s been a while, but I’ll be reunited with my old friend named roadtrip soon.

something new.

I’m going to start something new with this blog.

I’ve been hardcore blog stalking here lately, and I’ve found a LOT of them that I love and have added to my Google Reader which is a wonderful tool to help keep my stalking habits in line!

So in my blog searching, I found

It’s so simple, and I love it.

So I’ve deemed Tuesdays as my “Little Things Tuesday” update.

Every Tuesday I’ll post something from the Little Things tumblr feed, and talk about it.

Little Things is up in the 2oo’s now, but I’m going to start from the beginning and post the ones that I’ve saved that pertain most to my life.

I hope this is something that you will find enjoyable, and that it can help you remember the Little Things in your own life, as I document and remember mine.

Happy Tuesday 🙂 The post will follow…

you learn.

after a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand

and chaining a soul

and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning,


and company doesn’t mean security,

and you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts,

and presents aren’t promises,

and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up,

and your eyes open,

with the grace of a woman,

not the grief of a child,

and you learn to build all your roads

on today because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans,

and futures have a way of falling down in midflight.

and after a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much.

so you plant your own garden,

and decorate your own soul,

instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

and you learn that you really can endure,

and that you really are strong,

and that you really do have worth,

and you learn, and learn…

with every goodbye you learn.

scars remind me that the past is real.

This is the star, this is your heart,
This is the day you were born.
This is the sun, these are your lungs,
This is the day you were born.

And I am always, always, always yours,
And I am always, always, always yours.

These are the scars deep in your heart,
This is the place you were born.
And this is the hole where most of your soul comes ripping out,
From the places you’ve been torn.

And it is always, always, always yours,
And I am always, I’m always, I’m always yours.

Hallelujah, I’m caving in,
Hallelujah, I’m in love again.
Hallelujah, I’m a wretched man,
Hallelujah, every breath is a second chance…

And it is always, always, always yours,
And I am always, I’m always, always yours,
Always, always, I’m always yours, I’m yours,
Always, always, I am always yours…

always yours – switchfoot

if i could, then i would…

if i could, then i would pack a bag, board a plane, and fly to Fiji.

i can tell you exactly when my fascination with Fiji started. it started the first time i saw the movie “The Truman Show”. The woman that Truman fell in love with (her name totally escapes me, and i don’t feel like opening another google tab to search for it, so we’ll just let it go) told him that she couldn’t be with him, because she was moving to Fiji. Ever since then, it’s always been a place that I’ve wanted to see with my own eyes, smell with my own nose, and experience with my own life.

the water is so blue. the palm trees (which are one of my most favorite things) are gigantic. the mindset that i have when i think about this place is one of relaxation, excitement, achievement.

one day, i will go to fiji. i don’t know when, and i don’t know for how long, but one day, i will go. it’s dreams like this one that make life interesting. it’s the chase of something so beautiful that makes the insanity worthwhile. and when i get there, i will remember all of the times that i googled pictures, and talked about “one day”. except then, i won’t have to just think about it anymore, it will have become reality.

until then…

scattered words and empty thoughts.

another blank page.

and i don’t know how to fill it.

i want to be creative.

but i don’t know how to do it.

and time is scarce.

and there’s so much to be done.



and i’m not good at sitting still.

and i haven’t been taking any “me” time.

running ragged.

empty gas tanks.

all kinds of appointments.



here and there and everywhere.

and then i’m reminded…

a song plays on the radio in my car in the middle of the hustle and bustle:

bring me joy, bring me peace, bring the chance to be free, bring me anything that brings you glory. and i know there’ll be days when this life brings me pain, but if that’s what it takes to praise you, then Jesus bring the rain.

You’re not bringing me anything I can’t handle.

You’re seeing me through all of this insanity.

You’re building relationships through it all.

You’re teaching me patience.

You’re showering me with Your grace.

it covers me…

thank you for giving me words.