The Blank Page

I sit in any room full with kids from the age of 14 to the age of 24. The auditorium is nearly silent except for the one person standing up at the front. Everyone's eyes are on that one person. All ears are listening (except a select few who got too little sleep the night before). The room is hushed. Then the speaker begins to talk. The blank page resting on three metal rings begins to be scribbled on furiously as the speaker gives the most important of information.
Suddenly all the kids are hearing information on ethics, worldview, ideas. Cosmic humanism, secular humanism, postmodernism, and many other worldviews are thrown at us. We wrestle with the idea of atheism, of abortion, and many other topics. The blank pages in the notebook are suddenly filled with ideas that had occurred to nearly no one in the room. Suddenly, all seems instantly clear.
Those blank pages become filled with why we believe what we believe.
Because ideas have consequences.
And if ideas have consequences, we better be well sure we know why we believe what we believe.
And as the hundreds of students sit in the large auditorium, we begin to hear these ideas explained.
This, my friends, is called The Summit.

Summertime Goodness

 And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees,

just as things grow in fast movies,

I had that familiar conviction that life was

beginning over again with the summer.

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

It's full-fledged summer. In fact, you might almost say that summer is dieing off. I rather wish it would... despite my adoration of river-swimming, sun-bathing, and iced-chai-tea-latte-drinking habits, I can't help but desire my lovely autumn days in October.
However, I have enjoyed this summer a great deal more than past summers. Things have been delightfully laid back. I have enjoyed my Starbucks ice cream, loads of books, swimming, stormy afternoons, and even my schoolwork a great deal. Things have been a lovely shade of sepia with all the heat, but it's quite lovely. I love watching God's artistry throughout the year, and summer is quite beautiful.
I suppose this summer has been more beautiful than past summers, to me, because I have actually engaged myself in doing things that seem summerish. My first act was to go swimming with a few of my buddies and jump off of what seemed like a ridiculously tall tree into a ridiculously terrifying river (of which I have footage, but alas cannot find the cord to my old camera to upload it to my computer). I have gone to the river a couple more times, and honestly I can't say many other things in life make me more happy. Going to a river to swim seems like the epitome of summer activities. Besides, I'm doing it with my favorite people, so why shouldn't I be perfectly, splendidly happy?
I have also spent a great deal of time this summer being productive. In my past summers, I've been completely lazy and spent most of my time on the computer doing unproductive things. But I decided this summer that I would be at least slightly productive some of the time. I have rediscovered my love and adoration of reading. Honestly, the past year I haven't had time or desire to read. After Winston died last summer, I had a hard time taking interest in most things for a long time. When I did, I found myself slapped in the face with the realization that I had to begin studying for APs and the SAT. Really life? But I have begun to read again, and I have decided this is an activity I'm not apt to give up again any time soon.
I've also purposed myself to begin writing a great deal. I have been journaling more than I have in over a year, and have enjoyed it a great deal. I've also begun the rumblings of a story, but we'll see if that ever finishes itself. In any case, I have enjoyed writing a great deal. (and in fact, I would have written more on this blog had my laptop not given up the ghost, causing me to rely nearly solely on an iPad, on which it is nearly impossible to type)
Most of all, I have spent a great deal of time with my family and friends, which is more important to me than anything. Along with river swimming, I've gone to a frozen yogurt place with my mom several times, gotten chai tea lattes from Starbucks nearly every Sunday (and been greeted by the same awesome guy who asks me about Algebra 2 nearly every Sunday), watched fireworks with my friends, spent entire days tramping around in the woods and creek with my boyfriend while discussing deep and intellectual topics, talking about books and fashion with my best friends, talking with my soon-to-be-off-to-college brother until three in the morning, and other such pleasantries. I dearly love doing anything with my friends. And coming to the realization that four of my favorite people are soon to be off to college is indeed a daunting idea, and one that scares me and saddens me a great deal. My brother and cousin will soon be off two hours away doing their college-y things. Thus, watching She's the Man in my cousin's back yard at midnight with just a couple of sleeping bags or cutting up politically correct fruit salad with her is not exactly a strange or rare thing.
As you can see, summer to me means relaxing. It means enjoying God's beauty that He made for His glory to the full extent. It means laughing with my friends and watching my brother's face light up in a ridiculously luminescent way when he talks about The Dark Knight Rises. It means floating in tubes down a river and jumping off fifteen foot high trees into the murky water and mud below. It means pouring over a book while sitting on my bed, listening to the rain slapping and jumping off the leaves outside my window. It means playing on a playground and getting soaked with a hose while jumping on the blazing, colorful apparatus displayed out there. It means taping mustaches to my face with one of my best friends and taking stupid pictures that make us look like female versions of Poirot. It means sitting at my best friends' house with the power out, reading one liners from books in a circle and making everyone crack up.
It means summer.
Summer perfection.

Summertime Journaling

I love writing at any time of the year. Different seasons put me in different moods to write in different styles. Summer always puts me in a laid-back kind of feel, and my journaling strongly reflects that. As I was sitting up late one night a few days ago, I wrote this:

"It's 1:17 in the morning, and life is a virtual popsicle. Except filled with the most lovely feeling the heart can't describe. I'm sitting here listening to my favorite Alison Krauss songs, and it brings me back to being a little kid. It reminds me of riding in the back of Dad's black truck down a country road, or of driving through the Smokies at dusk. It brings me back to my five year old days. It makes me feel young. And sometimes it feels good to feel like a little kid again. Being reminded of being young makes me feel trusting. It makes me feel safe. It makes me feel like that country girl whose mind didn't wander very far past the oak tree in the back yard. The feeling I get is one I can't quite capture in words found in Webster's. It's an earthy, real feeling. It's beautiful, almost mysterious, in a very simple, understandable way. It makes my heart go crazy, while making my mind so peaceful that I feel like a mist hanging over pines in the mountains. I want so badly to capture this feeling in a song, but I can't write a song. I want to write poetry, a story, something. But not all things are intended for words."

I love summer.
I love watching fireworks while listening to Anberlin.
I love reading books on a stormy afternoon.
I love swimming at the river with my friends on a Saturday.
I love eating watermelon and strawberries.
I love going to coffee shops and frozen yogurt places with my mom.
I love eating green beans picked an hour beforehand from the garden.
But mostly I just love writing about how much I love these things in my journal.
Summertime is good.