Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Tip - toe


   The soft grumble escaping my abdomen interrupts my concentration. The words I attempt to read refuse to allow me to focus on them.

Food is much more appetizing than homework.
                And then I remember..  there's two pieces of pizza left in the refrigerator.

     I quietly close my book and leave my bed, kitchen-bound. I don't bother to turn off my lamp; i'm lazy, and maybe just a bit afraid of the dark.

   I tip-toe down the hall until my hand feels the anticipated comfort of the light switch. I click on the living room light and a small sense of relief and safety come over me.

             I continue to venture on toward the kitchen, careful not to make a sound.

   My naked feet make sticking noises with each step across the tile. I finally reach the fridge, place both hands on the white, plastic handle and gently pull open the doors.
  The release of rubber seals disturbs such a stretch of silence.

                        I stare into the coolness.

   Oh! The beautiful cardboard box beckons me.

        I slide it out from the top of the egg carton and set it on the counter. The fridge closes its heavy doors all on its own, and the smack reminds me of my goal of silence. Oops.

I return to by box, open it with careful gestures, and retrieve my new, prized possession.

          What in the world are these?

Evil, little green shapes seem to stick out their nasty tongues at me.

With a sigh, I scoot over to the trash bin and meticulously pick off the contaminants. With every bit of pepper I remove, a plopping sound from within the garbage gives me some small sense of satisfaction.

    Now that I can thoroughly enjoy this pizza, I stick it in my mouth and make my way back to my bedroom.

Softly, quietly, and extremely content, I flip the switch and the living room light is extinguished. The dim glow of my lamp guides me down the hall.
             I gently close my door, tip-toe to my bed and enjoy the last few bites.

        It's times like these when I feel like a genuine college student.



Words of love pour over me. The tender touch of my Father
    As an old, wooden bucket gently drawing from the well, His love pulls forth salty tears down from within me.

      My legs are bent beneath me, my bare feet slightly crossed. Long waves of hair fall over my face as I tilt my head towards the floor.
   The darkness beneath my closed eyes release small and steady drops, leaving wet circles upon my legs.

              His words.

Words of blessing, restoration. He makes me new. He washes and cleanses. He holds and comforts me. In the palm of His hand I find life, I find truth.

   Peace overwhelms me. My heart throbs with belonging.
             In a crowd of so many others, I kneel upon the ground, alone with My God.....
                                  lost for words

Friday, October 14, 2011

I Must

   My eyes drift downward as my mind searches quietly for words. As I absentmindedly stare at the charcole tiles, he silently ventures past me. Small, unnoticed, making his way to some unknown destination. A small spider, unaware of my presence.
              He's gone.

   My eyes are left alone to gaze upon the stillness of stone. i drift my eyes upward, only by a small degree.

     Black canvass moves rhythmically over the rubber of soles as he taps his foot to the gentle music. The legs of his jeans rest high on his ankles, allowing his black socks to reveal themselves a bit to me. Hello, they seem to whisper.

          Her shoes are the red of the wall, shiny. 
Abstract in their own, solid way. 

     A small child pitters along in tiny, striped rain boots. A plastic honey bee resides on the tips of the toes.

     Her feet are average, nothing unusual or abnormal. Nothing but the simplicity of her feet, as they trod along in the basic comfort of black sandals, beckons for my attention.

     Soft light dress the wooden chairs in many shades of overlapping shadows. The depth intrigues.

                              The deep grinding of espresso disrupts me from
my subtle fascination with the cold, hard ground.

My hand begins to write as my mind mulls over my new found observations.

I must write them down lest I lose the fresh aesthetic of these words.

                  I must.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

In Silence

“Do I make any sense? Clara. Clara! Are you even listening to me?”

Her words are distant. From the corner of my eye, her mouth moves vigorously. Every sound, every complaining word, drifts past my consciousness and floats on into some unseen destination. All she vocalizes is meaningless.

The vibrations of foot traffic outside this little window create small circles in the lemonade. With every person passing me by, a new set of rings finds its way through the liquid, dancing with patterns. I lay my head down gently on the worn table, my hair resting over my tired face. I take my little finger and dip it into the small pool of condensation, spread it around with small movements. It feels cool against my skin.

The mixture of voices floats around me. Fragments of conversation collide and intertwine, adding a lively hum to the air. A young woman scolds her toddler. A man in the corner mumbles something under his breath about the paper before him. An elderly couple chuckle with one another as they sip their coffee and bite into their toast.

Kind. Gentle.

The glow of the morning sun fills the café with hints of warmth, yet I continue to find comfort underneath the wool of my sweater. The soft grey envelopes me as I sit across from Rebecca.

“See, this is what I mean! You always say you’re here for me, yet you act like I’m not even here. Oh my gosh, are you seriously going to ignore me? Clara!”

She sighs heavily, dramatically.

“Okay, you know what? I’m going to let you sit here like some sort of mute while I get up and leave this stupid café. For the love of Pete, can you at least say good bye?”

I continue to draw pictures with my finger.

She stomps away, her staccato footsteps interrupting the flow of the morning.

It hasn’t always been like this. We used to be close, so it seemed. We used to understand each other, engage in deep conversations. But ever since we moved to the city, our life has changed so much. We agreed to share an apartment as we ventured into our dreams and hopes for the future. We were so excited to decorate and make it feel as close to a home as we could. Everything went great the first few days.

We've been here a month. I’ve found a job down the street at a little produce stand and started to settle in as best as I can. Rebecca, well, she’s done everything she can to meet new people. And all those new people seem to be living in our home more than I do. Every time I walk through the door, there’s a stranger in the living room watching something on the television or eating something from the fridge. There’s always some sort of alcoholic beverage on the counters, and our place is starting to smell foul.

My sister makes friends so easily. Every person she meets will soon be locked into whatever intriguing conversation she leads. She’s quite fascinating. It seems as though anything and everything she has to say gets people instantly interested. She’s vocal, open, and interesting.

I prefer to sit alone in the safety of my silence.

I guess I don’t have anything more to say to her. I’ve tried to express how I feel. The fact that I never look forward to coming home is something she chooses not to listen to. I’ve tried to explain why I’m so angry with the way things are turning out. She just doesn’t see what she’s created.

Right now, life seems unsure. It’s big. I don’t know what I am going to do as of right now. Should I stay here in the city and tolerate my sister’s new crazy way of life? Move back in with my parents? There’s a lot of things to be figured out.

But I know one thing is for sure. In my solitary silence, in the soft light of a café booth, I can escape the worries of my life. I don’t have to be afraid of what is to come. Without opening my mouth, without using any breath at all, I can engage in the most splendid conversations. I can open up every sealed place in my heart and drink in the most refreshing advice and direction. I can be who I am, I can be everything I was created to be.

I sit up gingerly and wipe my finger on the napkin. I reach down towards the floor and retrieve my bible from my purse. I open it up and begin to indulge myself in words more alive than myself. The cares of my world are smudged into a hazy shadow far behind my concern. I’m alive, I’m renewed.

The table before me gently disappears into the ground. Like the passing of a whisper the walls melt at my feet and bring forth tall, unruly grass dotted with the red faces of wild flowers. The hum of voices escapes me and I’m left standing in the midst of serenity.

The words of my Father fall around me, caressing me as the soft passing of the wind.
Words of love, of guidance, of understanding. My skin is awake, my eyes filled with wonder. Every inch of my body is rejuvenated with the voice of my God. When I am hushed and still, this is when I feel His breath, so sweet and so beautiful.

His presence flows in and out of my whole being as I roam around ever so quietly.
                                    It is here that I know what is true, what is sure.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

The Idea is HERE!

Hello my darling internet world (:

Remember how I had an idea? ( I posted a little while ago, maybe a month or so ago, that I had this cool idea) Wellllll, I have decided to share it with you all! Woo!

I have seen a handful of people not only post writing on blogs and such, but they will record themselves with some sort of video device and read writing pieces. I think this is super cool because you can not only read something, but get the feel of it through someone's voice. Your ears get a taste of how someone else sees the way something is written. So, today, I thought I would read a little poem. I wanted to start off with something little, like a poem, and get some feedback before I started reading actual 'stories'. Sooo, let me know what you think and if you would like more!

Oh oh oh, and also, if I continue this writing vlog thing, I want to start featuring other writers' work. So, if you have something you have written and would like me to feature it and read it aloud to the internet cloud, then send it my way! (:


Little Vietnam Futurist Poem
By David Ferry

She came into view as vivid as
Somebody on a screen in a movie seen,
Elegant in the focus of my eye

Birdboned. Quick and light.  Not wearing pajamas.
The little run resembling playfulness.
Calling out something, screaming something or other

As if her little mouth was fervently singing,
AS if you couldn't hear what the words could be,
Because of the singing, I had her in my sight.

Other people were there, wearing pajamas,
Streaming out of some hidyhole or other
Into the way that that was how I saw them

The trees of the kind that grew there established the place.
We know that way the story of what it was.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Inside the Sea

(Scroll all the way down for the Picture and Writing Piece!!)

Hello (:

Let me begin tonight with some pretty awesome news. It is actually one of those things that I think is really awesome, but you might think that it isnt that awesome. Oh well, I am still going to share (:

So here's the deal. Today we had a group of AWESOME dancers from Groove Nation Dance Academy in Vancouver Washington here with out youth group. Probably thee best group of people I've ever hung around. Not only were they freaking amazing dancers, but they were just the kind of people you want to hang out with for the rest of your life!

They taught a dance workshop today, which I attended of course. They did a contemporary and hip hop workshop, and they were pretty darn fun! So, anyways, to get on with the best part. I stuck around for a few hours after the workshops were done to watch the dance team practice. I ended up meandering over to the next room where one of the girls from the team was dancing by herself. I just kinda randomly popped my head in and asked if I could stick around to watch. Yea, I probably made her feel awkward. Oh well. Anyways, she kept dancing while I sat and watched for maybe a minute and then she came over and decided to just talk to me. Ahhh, she is the coolest person ever!

First, her name is Saleah. She is like, the asian, short haired version of me (: Its pretty crazy how much we have in common. But I have to say one of my favorite things we got to talking about was writing. She is a writer, just like me!

Ha, she said when she first saw me, she thought I was stuck up and didnt like her. As if! I thought it was funny.

So, you're probably like, "why on earth are you blabbing about this?" Well, I'm just pretty happy I got to meet such a rad person who just so happens to be a writer. And a dancer. And she loves food. Duh, of course I'm going to blab about her.

On with the picture!!

Photo of the day #6

Photo: Swirling school of blackfin barracuda

The sea, the sea, it calls to me.
The depth, the blue, it beckons.
Wrapped by curiosity
Its dangerous, I reckon

Behold such a wonder
Gazing into darkness
Raging, wild, hunger
Infinitely ageless

A rolling, liquid night
Casting fluid shadows
Cresting in white light
Living, flowing meadows

Inviting, luring, pulling
Begging me to come
A fire's always burning
In and out my lungs

Each crash of every wave
Echoing an offer
The water's what I crave
A longing, deep desire

Come in, she softly whispers
Flowing through my veins
The water slowly enters
And I'll never be the same

Drawn in with no return
The place I long to be
An everlasting yearn
To be one, inside the sea


(Scroll down for the picture and writing piece! )

Okay, so here's the deal. I have just taken a dose. A dose of what you may ask? Pepto Bismol? Green smoothie? Punishment?


I have a friend. A very wonderful friend I must say. In fact, I love her like a sister! And tonight she gave me a wonderful dose of criticism. And I do mean wonderful. I promise you there is no sarcasm in my voice. Normally I hear people around me getting quite offended when someone picks apart a piece of their creative side. Most people react with "Hey! That's mine, and that didn't feel very good, so back off, would ya?"

I actually enjoy it when someone takes the time to not only read something i have written, but when they spend their energy and thoughts on how I could possibly make something better. And my friends, I got a great dose of that tonight.

Here's the funny thing. She stated an opinion of my previous blog titled "Finally". She said I sounded emo. Emo?! No, in case you don't know me very well, I'm very much NOT emo. At all. Like, seriously. She didn't really enjoy such a sad-hopeless feeling from that story. And as a writer, I am quite concerned of what my readers feel about the things they read. I care about them. I care about you!

So, now I am challenging myself. Yep. You got it right. I am challenging myself to write something....less...emo? Sure.

Here we go!

Photo of the day #5

Photo: Veiled woman in doorway

    We've traveled all day. The dust clings to me like skin, coating my body and shaping itself into every crevice. Shane said we would never make it this far, but I knew I could prove him wrong. We set out three weeks ago, with just a few supplies, but a big dream ahead of us. So many people have told us we were wrong, that there was no time. So many believed with all their heart that we would fail.

Yet, here we are.

    "Jess, are you sure this is where it is?"

    "I'm sure. She's here."

    The setting sun casts down its last rays of warmth onto the gravel crunching softly beneath our feet. The air is cool as the evening approaches. The way the sun is descending over the hills paints a living replica of the very first night. When we began, Tim and I, we marked each day - every setting sun just as now- with part of a song. We knew it would be a while till we arrived, so every night before we fell asleep, we would sing a new line of a song. He would grab his uk and i would sit next to him by the fire, and together we would make something up. These were the moments when it didn't matter how much further we had. We didn't care what dangers lie ahead, what struggles we might face. We have each other, and we knew we would make it in the end.

    "How much further till we see the doors?"

    I know exactly what he is thinking. "A few miles, not much further."

  He stops.

    "I think I know what you're doing..."

     "You know me too well" he says with a playful smile as he sets down his pack and grabs his ukulele. "Come sit, would ya?"

    Together we sing our song, our voices meshing and dancing together. The sun is almost down, and the moon is beginning to shine her face down on us as we sing. The shadows of the dessert arise around us, joining in our tune. A few bystanders smile at us as they listen.

The streets are flowing with little foot traffic, but there we are in the middle without a care.

    Tonight we are going to find her. Tonight will be the end of our search, but the beginning of The Switch. Tonight, we are going to prove to them all that we could accomplish this quest, we could find the One. We will find her. I know we will.

Thursday, July 21, 2011


And finally my friends, is the current post. I have officially caught up, yay!

Let's all dance and cheer for me! No, please don't do that. But I would like for you to enjoy the photo of the day and my little written accompaniment (:

Photo of the day #4

Photo: Factory workers in a snowstorm



Listen to me! Please, someone listen to me!

Why can’t they hear me? I know the wind is beginning to kick up again, but someone should be able to hear me.


This doesn’t make any sense. I’ve been here before, I’m sure of that. I’ve seen these people, I’ve seen this exact group of people. That man to the right, he is going to pull out a lighter, but it won’t work. He’ll curse and ask that guy over there to use his lighter instead. That group of kids nearest the trees is going to run into some guy with an umbrella. Yea, a man with a red umbrella.


I don’t understand this. I’ve been here. I know what’s going to happen. And no one seems to know I’m here.


Desmus. Desmus! Please listen to me, I need your help! Why can’t he see me, why can’t he hear me?


No, God, no. Please, this can’t be happening! This is the day… that he, or we…

This was today?

The wind. The lighter. The Car.

Is that… no it can’t be… that’s me.  I move through the crowd, auburn hair blowing ferociously with the snow and wind. I go to him. He holds out his hand, I take a firm grasp as we try to make our way over the snow mounds. I can see myself over there, yet his smell lingers in my senses. I can still feel his hand wrapped firmly against mine. His brown, plaid scarf fluttering near my face.


The car. The unexplainable screech. The screams of children, the shouts of men.

His arms wrapping around me, his body as a shield. The deafening roar of explosion.



Always Mine

And my dears, here is the post for Wednesday (:

Picture of the day #3

Ice floating on the wind
Pushing against composure
 Living only to fend
Simply, avoid the hunger
Protecting what remains
A barely living sacrifice
For what is left to gain
Is beyond these old eyes
Living day to day
Pretending all is fine
Can help still be delayed?
Please, give me a sign
Reassure you’re on your way
Bitterness settles in
Etching itself inside
Said you’d come, but when?
Fake, facade, lies
Only I can wait
Only I can bide my time
I’ll accept the fate
This will always be mine  


Ah! I suck! This is NOT today's post. This is NOT yesterdays post. This is for Tuesday!

I said I would try to post something for every day of the week. I never said I would actually post it on the correct days, right? Gah, I'm full of guilt! Shame is eating away at my liver. So without further ado, here is the post for Tuesday.

Photo: Arctic sunset, Ivvavik National Park

      I moved towards the edge of the peak, and I was finally here. On any other day I might have taken a moment to soak in such a scene. It’s more like me to stand in awe of something so beautiful, to touch each blade of grass, every ray of light with my mind. Normally, this would be something I could appreciate. Not today. Never again.
      This is where it began. This is the exact place, right where I stand, where he took everything away from us. Everyone had gathered around him as though he was a savior, a god. They listened to each word spilling out of his mouth as though it were a golden mist. I only remember his words as the sound of poison. They looked into his face so intently, truly believing that this one man could save us all from our own fate. As though a mere human being could stop what we had brought upon ourselves.
      He lied. He led us all to this very place to become something for his own benefit. Like a herd of cattle, we followed him into not a place of beauty and restoration, but into a valley where human life has no meaning.
     I stand here, not to admire such a view, but to regain whatever is left of the human race. 

Monday, July 18, 2011


Soooo, I just posted something not very long ago. Between now and then, I've been completely spellbound by these pictures on National Geographic! They are inspiring me! So, I had this cute little idea. My friend Ali did an outstanding job of sticking to writing a post once a day, every day for a week. And not only did she stick to her word and do it - unlike some people *cough, cough* me- her posts were just wonderful!

Basically, I am going to attempt to post once a day for a week. But I am attempting a pattern. What is that you may ask? Well. I have seriously had my breath taken away today from such amazing pictures, and I have decided to post one picture a day along with something I've written to go along with what that picture is. Yea, yea, I may sound cheesy when I write random poems to a picture, but whatever. I am going to do it. Hate it. Love it. Forget all about it. I dont care, I'm going to try to stick to something new this week! (:

Here's the first! Don't be shy, feedback is always grand (:

  Sway, lover sway
Ebbing with the wind
Bending, gently
Freely giving in
Sweet blood red
Show yourself, fearless
Light rests along
Illuminated edges
Softness, hushed
Breathing serenity
Bathed in green
Surrounded in beauty
Sway, lover sway
Let yourself be free
Planted, yet you fly
So beautiful to me
Photo: A red poppy in a wheat field


I haven't written much lately on my blog. So I thought I'd share something with you (:

This evening could only be summed up into one word - lovely. I've been sitting in my garage with the door open to the magic outside. The sun was softly shining through the trees, dancing along the rain. The smell of fresh rain and wet pavement filled me with something beautiful. The sound of the rain went hand in hand with the gentle music playing on my Bon Iver Pandora radio station. And to top off such a wonderful scene, I've been consumed in some gorgeous pictures from National Geographic. This one right here is what I wanted to share. I may be only 16 years of age, but I know I want to be married someday. And this is where he will take me (:

Wishing you all a lovely night - or day if you are dwelling on the other side of planet earth

Photo: Sunlit hills and sand dunes in Ireland

Monday, July 11, 2011


Hey Ya'll! Soooo, I haven't posted anything in a few days, so I thought I would share some pictures from graduation with you all!

The actual day was pretty full of nerves and what not, and our friend Casey who does "K See Images" was a lovely human being and came to take some pro pics of the three of us. I have to say, we probably weren't the best candidates for a photo shoot, but some how, Casey made us look great! So, a HUGE thanks to her (:


What nerds! (:

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Hiding Place

   Sometimes I get a little overwhelmed. Sometimes there is a reason, and then there are times when there is none. Tonight, as I drink my almond milk, and listen to Regina Spektor, I just felt... overwhelmed. So, what do I do? Write.

I know I need to get used to sharing, so I thought "what the who, why not." So, without further ado, here is my rambling mind at work on a overwhelming Tuesday night.

                                                                     Hiding Place

She walks in the same way as he always had. 
His voice whispers in each step, her body echoing his name. 
She moves to his rhythm, the steady pattern of his ways. 
His heart beat is her balance, her timing is his mind. 
The gentle of her thoughts, are the coolness of his touch. 
The life she leads is laced with his, his love lives within her.
 Her strength is drawn from where he hides, for who she is, he lives inside. 

Friday, June 24, 2011

An Idea

I have an idea.

Sitting here in the middle of my bedroom, the carpet a little on the scratchy side, I have been thinking. My face has been burned from the sun - probably because I continue to pursue a tan- and this has left me worn out and quite sleepy after a long day.

I'm calm. I'm mellow. I'm tired.

It is in moments such as this, when I allow my mind to 'do it's thing'. It wanders. My mind escapes the continual rhythm of day to day life. It begins to search and explore possibilities, notions, dreams, and above everything else my brain easily manufactures ideas.

But it is when I allow my brain to break further than just wandering, when these ideas are distributed throughout the realistic part of me. And that is when I begin to figure out a way to make these 'ideas'  come to life.

No, I don't want to disclose exactly what my idea is. But, I thought I'd take the first step by revealing the simple statement - "I have an idea."

I'm sure I'll explain further. For now, I think I am going to go to sleep.

My challenge to you: Don't hinder your mind from wandering. Let it loose for a little while, and maybe you'll even allow an idea to be planted. Then, go to sleep and set your ideas loose to morph into a dream. When you wake up, you just might find yourself with a vision or a goal. And the best part is, it's all your own.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

New Video!

Hello again!

Two posts in one day? From me? Unreal! But, it's happening, so savor the moment.

Well, this will be short, but I wanted to share something with you all (: On the 9th of this month, I gave the presentation for my senior project to a group of people eating little desserts. It went quite well, I have to say. All three of us - yes, our graduating class was three- did wonderful! Christina started up a business selling hair accessories, and Evan recorded a song he wrote and made a music video. And I- little Taylor Renae- presented a video I made for the book I am writing.

I just had to share it with all seven of you. (:

Here is the video. It is the very first page of my book, titled "Unbroken"


Hello Friends. (:

Well, here I am again. I'm pretty sure that there is always an insanely large amount of time between my blog posts. BUT, I'm happy to say that I have come back. No, I did not abandon you.

I was talking with a very dear friend a few weeks ago. (Going to coffee with her in a few hours actually, woot!) She said something to me that kinda stung, to be honest. It was one of those things that I know was good, yet I wasn't really enjoying it. It's like the words she said resembled rubbing alcohol or something. It's good for the ailment... but dear Lord, it stings!!

She started by informing me of how bummed she was that I rarely ever post on my blog. So of course, in my brain, I'm thinking "Oh yay, she enjoys my blog." Cool? No. She finished by reminding me of a promise I had made to my trusty followers - that I would post a certain amount of times during the week. Do I even post once a week? Nope. Once a month? Hmm, maybe.

She said "Taylor, it's important for you to be a woman of your word."

And ya know what? That is very true. It seems like I try so hard to be honest and trustworthy with the big things. But how easily did I forget that something as simple as making a promise to the people who read my blog was just as important.

Well, summer is here. I have officially graduated High School and in just a few months I will be a college student. I am free from homework for these next few months. This is not only great because I don't exactly enjoy homework, this is super awesome because this gives me absolutely NO EXCUSE to leave my poor little blog naked for such a long time. She gets cold.... and feels awkward. Especially when you all look at her.

Look, that's me!
So. This is my ending. Which is also the part where I give a little challenge. My challenge for you all, is to look at yourself. (Normally I tell you to do this, but just pretend its new) Is keeping your promises and being trustworthy important to you? If it is, are you just focusing on the big things, or do the little things mean just as much? These next few days keep a close eye on how you are a woman or man of your word. And if you are a lazy blogger like me, go post something for goodness sakes!

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Mr. Marshall

Hello everyone!

Well, I haven't posted in quite a few days, but I still have time! Basically, my dad emailed me the cutest photo EVER. Some friends back in Indiana just had a new baby cow! And they named it after my boss... Dan Marshall. Ha.

Well... our friends didn't give birth to it. Their cow did. You know what I mean.

Anyways, I can't post much at the moment. I have a busy day ahead of me considering it's in fact my little sister's 13 birthday! Golly, can't say I'm too Happy about her gowing up. But, there really isn't anything I can do about, now is there? Nope.

Isn't she just beautiful!? I love my sis (:

So, I guess this is a big happy birthday to the cow Mr. Marshall and my darling sister Mckailah!

Have a wonderful day everyone (:
~Tay Renae

I could just cuddle that little face all day long!


Thursday, April 14, 2011

It is Written...

“…It is written…”

Wow. These words really stood out to me tonight. I had such a wonderfully full day of homework, church and spending quality time with my sister, and I ended my day with reading out of a book that my friend Ali let me borrow. It’s called ‘You Are My Hiding Place”, a collection of writings from Amy Carmichael, a great Woman of God. (Ali actually mentioned this very book in her latest blog by the way).

            Moving on…

            I began to read a section titled ‘If Only There Were Mountains’. Within this encouraging passage there was a Bible verse, which contained the words it is written. Instantly such a mixture of emotions overwhelmed me. Just these few, simple words caught me off guard and challenged the balance of everything inside of me.
            Let me back up a bit. Last night we had youth prayer. I hadn’t gone in such a long time and it was so nice to spend time in God’s presence with so many people that I love. And not only was it great to just be there again, but last night was seriously an amazing night of prayer. Pastor Natalie had everyone pray for one another, and everyone was going around the room, holding hands, touching shoulders, and reaching out towards one another with prayers of encouragement and agreement.
            There were a handful of people that prayed with me, and the one thing that rang loud and clear through each individual was that God was giving me ‘visions and dreams’. This has been spoken over me so many times and for some reason I didn’t pay much attention.
 …. Not until I read the words ‘It is written’.
  I’m sure many of you have heard or read that I am writing a book for my senior project. This was not my idea. I take no credit. Last year, around May, I felt this weird feeling that I needed to write a book for my project. My first initial thought was ‘No way José!!’ I thought I must have just been acting silly or something. I ignored the thought for a while. But then the thought began to sit at the back of my mind like a mud puddle. It sat there, unmoving really, not bothering me much. But still, there it sat, waiting to be noticed and splashed into. A few weeks went by and I brought this random idea of writing a book to a really dear friend of mine. They said that it was the absolute best idea they had ever heard. They said they believed in me. They are the reason the thought of writing a book became a nuisance. Thanks a lot, huh?
            This idea stopped just sitting the back of my mind, and instead rolled around like a steel marble. It rolled through my thoughts like a pinball machine, the gears of life prodding and shooting the idea into everything I did. I couldn’t escape! Pretty soon, youth camp arrived. As always, camp was wonderful. I believe it was the third or fourth night we were there, and we were having a really good time of prayer. I can’t fully remember exactly what I was praying for at that moment, but I know it had nothing to do with writing. And then the fingers of God himself pulled back the pin attached to the spring, and when He let go, that steel marble raced through my body as though my organs, veins and muscles had formed into the pinball machine itself.
  “Write a book for your senior project.”
            “No way! I can’t do that. I don’t even know how.”
That was the end of that conversation. Except, it wasn’t really over because those words rang through my mind louder and stronger than anything I had ever experienced.  Well, school started in September of 2010, and I could no longer ignore His voice. I, Taylor Renae, was going to write a book for my senior project. I had barely any knowledge on the subject, and I had no idea what I was really going to write about. But I had settled it in my heart, I had no choice really, that I was to write something.
            I will explain the rest of this story later. Don’t get all antsy on me. But I must get back to my original thought…remember the ‘It is written’? When I saw these words, read them a few times over, I was flooded by visions. No, not the white lighted Jesus in a bathrobe holding out his hand to the children of America kind of vision. This was different then other things I’ve seen. Pictures, more like movie clips of myself raced behind my eyes. I saw myself, countless times with an idea. An idea to write in my blog, an idea to tell someone something, an idea for a skit, a story, a painting. All these ideas I get every day that I do nothing with. Yea, once in a while I’ll decide that maybe one in a hundred of those ideas are really worth taking the time to write down, but then I either lose it or completely forget about it. But every day – no exaggeration – I get ideas. Simple, subtle, extravagant, intense. And honestly, most of the time I feel like I should blog about these ideas. But what do I do? I blow them off. I think “ nah, that’s not really much to blog about, and besides, who’s gunna read it anyways?”  or the famous “I don’t got the time”.

            Tonight, I heard God say to me “ I have given you visions and dreams. What are you going to do with them?”

I saw myself as a faithful blogger. Someone who runs to her laptop to ramble about an idea, a thought, or a story. A blogger who could possibly encourage, inspire, or enlighten someone. I believe, with all my heart, that I have been called to write. I’ve always heard that ‘words are powerful’. For some reason I only applied that saying to the spoken word. But how easily I forgot just how powerful the written word is. It is written was spoken by Jesus himself so many times through the New Testament, referring back to thousands of years of Gods word, which had been written, established.

 So, allow me if you please, to apologize to you all. I am sincerely sorry that I rarely blog. I am so very sorry that I haven’t shared an idea that might have helped one of you through your day. I’m sorry that I didn’t grasp hold of the visions and dreams that God has so faithfully given to me and I didn’t share those things. Forgive me?
 So, let this be the beginning. How about I kind of, oh I don’t know, start over? Yea, yea, so cliché! I know that I could find at least 5 minutes to post at least something! Whether it is a verse or a few thousand words of an idea, I want to share it with you. You know what? Today, I’m challenging myself.

Taylor, I challenge you to write in your blog AT LEAST 4 times a week. If not more. Be sincere and respectful to your oh so faithful followers.

The end.

Friday, March 11, 2011

I think I'll Start Now...

Is this actually the beginning?

   I was kind of hoping that my very first blog post would be much better. I was hoping that I could introduce you, whoever you are, properly to my little world. I had so many ideas, so many plans on how I would accomplish that. But unfortunately I only find myself coming up with excuses as to why my blog has been public for over a week, and I still haven’t posted anything of great importance.
    I am not going to sound like so many others; I will not say I don’t know why I haven’t posted anything, because the truth is I know exactly why I’ve been procrastinating. How about I start this blog with a big dose of honesty, eh? Guess what… I’m scared. I’m a little afraid that what I write will not be anything you’d be interested in. It’s a little silly, but it is very true.
    Why did I begin this blog anyways? I’ll fill you in on that one a little later. Basically, I am graduating this year, at the wonderfully confusing age of 16. For my senior project I am writing a novel. And want to know the best part? It’s already mid-way through March. How far have I come on my writing journey? Not very far. That’s all I will spill at the moment.
    I know this is all silly. Me, sitting here, wrapped in a soft baby-blue blanket, listening to Pandora, and typing away my silly little fears to a blog that no one is going to read tonight. But, you know what? I am a writer. I have settled that down deep in my heart. There is no escaping the fact that I long to write, and I will never be content until the stories rambling on inside of this little head leak out of my fingertips. Whether it be onto a keyboard, or onto some traditional lined notebook paper, I really don’t care. And since I have determined that I, Taylor, am a writer, I have also decided that what I have yet to do is to write something to share. I’ve always written, ever since I was a young girl, but I’ve always withheld it from the rest of the world. So, this is where I will begin. Yes, I promise to share. I’ll be nice.
    So please, why not stay a while? How about checking back soon to see if this random, young writer has slipped anymore words out into the world? I would truly enjoy for you to return. I am being so very honest when I tell you that I appreciate every single person who takes the time to take part in what I am sharing. One thing I’ve realized since I stepped into the amazing, scary world of writing is that it takes a lot of courage. It takes some guts to share a part of you with someone and receive criticism and advice. It takes some major audacity to be vulnerable, and exposed before those who may judge you. But, I’m actually looking forward to this. I’m excited, a little nervous I must admit, to see what you think of me and the things I share. But guess what?
     I am going to stand up to you all, and show you this is what I am, and what I’ve written. You do with it as you please, because I’m ready and I’m willing.