Engagement Pictures

This photo was the first Engagement pictures taken by Jimmy McDonald in Rockingham, North Carolina.



This is one of my favorites. :)



Jimmy chose a great place to take our pictures.



This is another one of my favorites. The background was so beautiful.



This was a fun one to do because the pictures I'm going to upload next were taken right after each other, and you'll have to watch Michael's hand. He slowly in each picture comes closer, and closer, and closer until he finally pokes me, right in the middle of the picture being taken.



Moving in for the "kill"...



A little closer...



Ah-ha! Here he goes!!!



Caught Red Handed!



Jimmy had just told me to kiss him! lol!



I settled for a hug. :)



We took a mile long "hike" around the lake.



We sometimes don't always agree, so we settle things very maturely. :)



Cuteness!!!



This was a fun shot.



Since I hadn't kissed him, he kissed me! :) <3



There we go. :) This was at the half way point of our walk.



This is my all time favorite. :) I love how the golden sunset reflects on the water behind us.



Another "ring" picture. :)



One on the bridge.



A night picture.



Another night picture. :)



Michael surprised me and kissed me in middle of taking the picture.



This pose was a little awkward because I was supposed to be straddling his feet and reaching around him to the deck railing. Oh well, it turned out cute. :)



I like how the colors surrounding us pop.

Anyway, these are some of the pictures that Jimmy took, and I am really thankful for the expertise he has and artistic flair when it comes to photography.

Will You Marry Me?

June 6th, 2011. Approximately 10:34 am. Osceola, Indiana.

As I clicked "purchase" on the airline ticket, I thought about the fact that $273.30 of my checking account was now gone.



Later that following week as we, Michael and I, were talking on the phone, Michael said, "Hey, I bought you something today, but I'm not going to tell you what it is." I begged him for a hint. The only thing that he would tell me was "It may or may not have a lens." My mind swirled with ideas. "A camera" my mind came to the conclusion of, and I said as much. "Perhaps." Michael said with a smile in his voice. "Tell me another hint." I told him. "Well..." he dragged out, "Parts of it will be see through." "A camera." My mind told me again. I thought he was talking about the little square hole a person would look through to take the picture. "A camera." I told him again. "Nope." he said laughing. "Okay, fine. Tell me another hint." He said no, but I convinced him to tell me another one. "Okay...let's see. Oh, I know. There will be a lot of 'focus' on it." "A Camera!" I squealed at him. Laughing at my frustration, he said, "Nope!" I demanded he give me another clue, but he stood firm and kept his silence.

The days dragged by until my flight left at 8:00 am. on July 17th, 2011. This was my first time flying by myself, and I was more than a little bit terrified. I got to the airport, and was directed by some security guards, who took pity on me, to the right gate, and how to tell which gate I needed to go to when I got off my first flight and waited for my layover to wear out.

Walking through the Metal Detector without my shoes, money, tickets, and I.D., I half winced as I expected the alarm to go off at any time, seeing as I had a bad history with these things and zippers on my outfit. Not hearing the alarm go off, I let out my breath. Grabbing my backpack, flip-flops, tickets, and book from the bin, I slipped into my shoes, and walked on, thinking about seeing Michael again for the first time in 6 months.

My flight from the South Bend Airport to Detroit, Michigan lasted approximately 33 minutes, and I had a layover that lasted a good hour and a half. I called Michael as I was waiting for my flight to be called from Gate C8. "Well," I told him, "I only have one more flight before I get to see you." I said with a slightly breathless tone. "Yep." he said, just as excited as I was. We talked for a bit more and my flight was finally called.




Boarding my second flight, the only place my mind went to was a certain young man in Charlotte, North Carolina. A man by the name of Michael who was my best friend. Time flew (no pun intended) by and soon my plane was landing at the Greensboro Airport.

As we drove to Morehead, North Carolina which was along the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, I heard one of the phones ring. "Hello?" said Katie, Michael's little sister. "Oh, hi Michael. Yah, we've got her. Uh-huh." They talked a little bit more and we finally reached the beach house around 8:45 pm. We unpacked, and made dinner.

At about 11:00 pm. Michael and Ray, who were supposed to meet us at the beach house, were still not there, so Katie and I went over to the beach, and went looking for seashells. We had been out for about half an hour when the phone Katie had taken with her (because mine was charging back at the house) started ringing loudly. Before answering the phone, she grabbed my hand and helped me up a "wall" of sand and rescued me from a wave that would have potentially would have knocked me over and into the salty sea water.



"Come on. Let's go." Katie called to me over the roar of the waves crashing into the sand. "What? why?" I asked. "Because. That was Michael. He and Ray just got here. They're up on the deck." she said. He was here. I was just minutes away from seeing him. No...I was SECONDS away from seeing him. I was so excited and terrified at the same time. I forced myself to walk as Katie and I made our way back to the deck over-looking the ocean. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I didn't dare look up. "Hurry up girls!" I heard Michael call. Swallowing, I kept myself in check while Katie ran on ahead and hugged her older brother.

Reaching the top step, I still kept my gaze on the floor boards. A dark figure stepped into my line of peripheral vision and I half forced myself to look up. Seeing Michael in the moonlight I heard him softly say "It's been too long." and he wrapped me into a big hug. All I could do was nod as an overwhelming amount of emotion flooded my whole body making me feel weak. Finally recovering my composure, I pulled away from him and took a deep breath. "Yah..." I said, "It has been a long time." I glanced over at Ray, Michael's older brother, who was talking to Katie.

"Come here." Michael said softly, taking me by the elbow. I resisted slightly because I was talking to Ray about something. Finally going with Michael, we slowly walked across the deck and he asked me, "So, do you want your present now?" I nodded, and he placed me in the corner of the deck and said, "All right, but you have to close your eyes." I closed my eyes, but then realized that he could see that I had my eyes shut. Putting my hand over my eyes, I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. "Okay, now." I heard Michael say. Opening my eyes, I looked into open space. I heard a shifting down by my feet and I heard Michael clear his throat and ask, "Will you marry me?" Looking down at him, my jaw dropped. There he was. He had gotten down on one knee, and now held a box in his right hand.



The glistening ring in the box sparkled in the moonlight and suddenly I felt like I was about to pass out. My head was swimming, and thought seemed to be acting as a vortex inside my head. I couldn't say anything for the longest time. Finally I breathlessly said, "Bare feet and all..." referring to my sandy bare feet from walking along the beach. Finally after what seemed like an excruciating long period of time, and several attempts at speaking but only getting squeaks out, I nodded my response.

He stood up and put the ring on my finger, and hugged me again. Suddenly I heard clapping off to my left. Looking up from the ring on my finger, I noticed the men whom Katie and I had seen earlier smoking were clapping and grinning. Feeling kind of giddy, I giggled. Michael put his arm around my shoulders and we walked over to where Ray and Katie were standing, and the two men came over and started firing questions at us. "What are your names? Where are you from? How long have you known each other?" etc. Feeling overwhelmed, I let Michael answer most of the questions.



Where are we going from here? Well...We have decided on getting married on May 19th, 2012. We will be getting married at St. Andrews Episcopal Church in Morhead City, and then probably living in Charlotte, North Carolina. I am so thankful that the Lord led Michael and I together when He did, and that He changed my feelings for Michael when He did. God is in this relationship, and I am so excited to merge my life with Michael's and continue to serve the Lord each and every day.

But it's not my fault!

Modesty. Yes. It is a very controvercial topic. Now, you, like many other women, and yes, I'm talking to all of us as females, may think, "I'm not being immodest, I'm being fashionable." Maybe so, but we have to look at a couple of other points as well.
When a shirt is see through guys can see a lot more than we think they can. When a neck line is too low, and we bend over in addition...believe me...it gives them an eyeful. ALL GUYS ARE LIKE THIS GIRLS! I mean, a few weeks ago when I was helping in our AWANA program. I was watching the sparky's (the Kindergarten through 2nd graders) to make sure they wouldn't misbehave. However, one of the little girls bent over to get something under neath her bench, and she didn't have any undies on. Her bottom was showing half way out of her pants. And what did I see? But one of the older boys leaned forward to get a better look!
"Well, it's not my fault if the boy's can't control themselves!" Wrong. It is our fault. No, I'm not letting the guys off the line because they do have a responsability to the Lord to keep themselves pure emotionally, mentally, and physically. However, we cannot just keep shifting the blame to our struggling brother's while we go on a "Well if you got it, flaunt it!" rampage.
Even the way we stand can send a major message to a guy. Our clothing is not the only thing that can make a guy think impure thoughts. If we say something, or do something that would encourage a sexual desire, on purpose, in that young man on purpose...don't blame him.
When have we stopped caring about the guys in our lives? When have we stopped taking into consideration the guy we might marry some day? What if the guy that you are going to marry, unbeknownst to you, walks in to your school, work place, or home, sees you flirting with guys (just for the fun of it) and dressed very provocatively? What do you think would be going through his mind? Now, if he was any decent kind of guy that wanted you for you, and not for your body, his first thoughts would not be "Oh my word! she's so sexy!" If I were a guy, and saw my future wife acting and dressing like that, I'd say, "that's my future wife? Why is she acting like that? I thought she was supposed to be mine."
Joshua Harris once described it like this. He once had a letter reach him from a friend who was about to get married. In the letter to Joshua, she said, "In the dream I was walking down the isle in my church. When I finally reached the front, my dad pulled the veil back from my face, hugged my one last time, and handed me over to David. I looked at him with tears in my eyes and smiled at him. He was such an amazing young man. As we said our vows, one by one, six other young women lined up next to David on his other side and said the vows with me. I turned to David and said, "What is this?" David looked down and then back at me. "These are girls from my past...girls that I've dated, flirted with, and given my heart to." Tears threatened to ppur down my face as I whispered, "But I thought that your heart was mine! I thought that you loved me!" "I do love you Anna," David said as he glanced at the other girls beside him. "I do love you, and my heart is yours...what's left of it."" Then Anna woke up.
People in today's culture have mistaken "lust" for "love". So many times I have heard girls say, "Yeah, we're dating now. He is so sexy!" When did we get drawn away from the "Old-fashioned" times of it was the young man's job to do the calling? Now, all the girl has to do is flirt, call him sexy, have a one night stand, and that's it! Where is the relationship in that? It sounds to me as if you were just using them!
I read this statement in a Newsletter from Nancy Leigh DeMoss. It said, "IS IT DECENT OR INDECENT? The second word, aidous, is based on the GReek term for shame and disgrace. The word is a blend of modesty and humility. When I think about a word picture that personifies this concept, I think of approaching God with eyes that are downcast. It involves a sense of deficiency, inferiority, or unworthiness. It suggests shame, but also corresponding sense of reverence and honor towards rightful authority. It is the opposite of insolence, impudence, disrespect, or audacity. Downcast eyes are the opposite of defiant eyes. So does dressing with your eyes downcast mean that you are self-conscious? No. It means that your clothing tells the truth about the gospel. Your clothing shows the world that Jesus covers your shame and makes you decent. Your clothes cover your nakedness as the clothing of Christ covers your sin. Dressing "with eyes downcast" means that you choose clothes that are decent in His eyes...not clothes that are provocative, seductive, and that honor nakedness. When you dress decently, you recognize that God ordained clothes to cover, and not draw attention to, your naked skin. You cover up out of respect for Him, the gospel, your Christian brothers--and out of respect for who He made you to be. Decency means you agree with the Lord about the true purpose of clothing and set aside your self-interest to dress in a way that exalts Christ...."
I once "interviewed" one of my guy friends for his opinion on this steadily grewing crisis in the world called "Imodesty". He said something that I've never forgotten, because I had always thought it was cute. On Jeans, or on any pants or skirts, if there is wording, lettering, or any exesive design's on the pocket's or near the...*dare I say it?* Butt, it is extremely distracting and draw's the guys gaze down there. I mean, seriously girls...who wants a guy standing behind you at Wal-mart, staring at your butt. I don't care HOW cute your butt might be, you don't need to give guys another reason to stare at it.
Now, this discussion isn't exhaustive, and I've only covered a few things, but seriously girls, before going outside...consider the guys who already struggle with their thoughts and help them by not dressing seductively. Please? We girls get enough attention as it is. Let's stop acting like "giggly school girls" by TRYING to get the boy's attention, and act like mature women who are trying to seek the Lord.

Broken (Cont.)

I got back to school on Sunday night (9/19/10) at about 8:30 pm. I carefully lifted some of my things out of the van and carried them all the way up to third floor in the girls dorm. After getting my stuff unpacked and put away, I grabbed some of my books and a pencil and headed over to the fine arts building. Michael was there waiting for me with a "Welcome back." and a smile. He and my mom walked downstairs with me and I did a majority of my homework that was due the next day. Michael eventually headed to work, and I headed back to my dorm and was greeted with more than one excited "KARA! YOU'RE BACK!".

On Monday, I was able to make it through my classes, and right after lunch, my mom took off to head back home, and Michael insisted on carrying my backpack to my next class...I think my mom tipped him off as to the news that I was on a five pound weight restriction. That was definitely humbling...not to be able to carry your own backpack... Anyway, I got through that day with Michael snatching my backpack every single time he saw me with it. That week was the Revival Services with Steve Pettit, so it was an amazing time that we spent each night in God's word.

The next day on Tuesday my world was pretty much turned upside down. I woke up to my alarm buzzing, and I sat up in bed only to nearly pass out from dizziness. I groaned and started coughing through my sore throat. I swung my feet out of the bed and hopped out of bed only to find that I could barely stand up because I was so weak. I shuffled around my room trying to think clearly enough to get dressed...I finally called the nurses station and wasn't able to get a hold of them. I got dressed, grabbed my bible, and headed down the stairs to go to my 8 o'clock devotions. By this time I was sweating with the exertion of it all. I walked down the stairs, through the lobby, and out the door. As I was walking down the sidewalk I squeezed my eyes shut in order to try to calm the spinning world around me. I opened my eyes again as I was approaching the white Chapel and noticed that I couldn't even make my eyes focus on the people walking to their 8 o'clock classes, let alone walk straight myself...scratch that...I could barely walk period! I stumbled into devotions, signed my name and the time that I arrived, and sat down in a pew.

After devotions were done, I got up and walked out. I honestly have no clue how I made it to the nurses station that day...one step at a time I guess. When I got there I met my roommate Crystal coming out. She gave me a small smile and asked me how I was doing. "Sick." was all I could manage. Now...there's something I don't like admitting...and that is that I am sick...so when I actually admit that I'm sick...I'm REALLY sick. Miss Johnson (the nurse) had me sit down for a while in the waiting room while she finished up some paper work, and she said, "All right Kara, what can I do for you?" In response, I simply started coughing. She smiled and said, "Ok, come with me into the back room." I followed her in the the "examination room" and sat down and was, for some reason, completely worn out by the simple task of walking. I managed to communicate to her the reason I was there, and some of my symptoms. She took my temperature and sure enough, I had a fever of 102.6. She sent me back to bed and signed me out of all of my classes with the instructions to come back at 1:15. I went back to my room with some decongestant medicine that she had given me, some cough medicine, and something that dried up the mucus. I almost fell into my room when I got back, regained my balance and walked straight back to my bed, got my pj's back on, and crawled in bed while telling my room leader(more like sister), Erin Miles, how I was feeling, that I had gone to the nurse, and what the nurse had said. However, Erin thought I had said that I had a fever of 106.2!!! If I hadn't been so miserable in bed I would have laughed at the rumor that was going around campus about me being on death's door step.

I'm not sure what time it was, but I was woken up by our room's phone ringing. Erin hurried to answer it so it didn't disturb me (isn't she so thoughtful and sweet?!). It was the nurse. Erin gently "woke me up" and waited for me to slowly get dressed again and while I was brushing my hair back, the phone rang again. This time I wasn't sure who it was, but Erin did. Once I was ready to go, I walked down to the nurses station (feeling a lot more sturdy on my feet) and there, sitting on a rock by the building, was Michael. When he saw Erin and I coming he stood up and came towards us. "How are you feeling?" he asked...the worry written all over his face. I opened my mouth to say "Fine." but he interrupted me by saying, "And don't you dare say you're 'fine.'" I smiled and started to laugh, but my laugh got taken over by a fit of coughing. I shivered at the slight breeze that decided to blow right then, and walked into the nurses station. She took my temperature again, and it was down to 99.8. She sent me back to my room and told me to try to eat something. Coming back out of the nurses station, Michael stopped pacing and whirled around to meet us. "What'd she say?" he asked. "My fever's gone down, but she wants me to go eat something..." he nodded and whispered something to Erin, and I started walking away. Erin nodded and hurried to catch up with me, while Michael went back to his dorm. Walking up the two flights of stairs with 20 steps on each completely made me out of breath. When we reached the third floor hallway, it was like a huge wind tunnel. Everyone had their window's and doors open to circulate the fresh air from outside. I started shivering from the "cold" and was glad when I could take shelter in my own room.

Erin disappeared and then reappeared a few minutes later with a cup of chicken noodle soup in her hand and a plastic grocery shopping bag in the other. Michael had apparently gone back to his room, and picked up a few bowls of soup and a bottle of vitamin C.

I don't remember much else except for drifting in and out of sleep for the rest of the day.

Wednesday: the nurse signed me out of devotions, and my first class. I was able to my last class of the day, and the revival service that night. However, that night I ended up coughing so violently after the service was done that I ended up vomiting a little bit.

That night I talked to my mom on the phone and wondered whether I really should just withdraw from my classes and start over again next semester. She told me that that was what she thought would be the wisest decision. I emailed my adviser and scheduled an appointment or the next day, and went to bed.

Broken (Cont.)

Sunday afternoon my mom and I spent a few hours at Wal-Mart in Iron Mountain, Michigan getting some things that I forgot at home in the rush to get back up to school. Once we got back, my mom and I spent a majority of the afternoon moving my stuff into my room on third floor 322.

I got through the next two weeks in a lot of pain, but by God's amazing grace. Each day in my devotions I found something more awesome about my God, and something sweeter about His presence. The phrase "God is all I need" became very real to me, but I found myself changing it to, "God is not only all I need, He is all I want!" My mom came up on the 15th (Wednesday) and spent the day with me, and on Thursday, my mom attended chapel with me. After classes on Thursday my mom and I took off for home to have my gall bladder removed. We got home about 1:45 in the morning, and went straight to bed. The next morning I had to be at the hospital at 10:00 for preparation for the surgery. I had IV's hooked up to me, and fluids of some sort started, and they took some more tests (urine, and blood) and then just let me rest for a while. Finally coming into the room, the surgeon came in and asked me if I was going to be all right, or if I wanted something to make me relax when I'm in the surgical room. I thought about it, and chose to have the "relaxer" medicine. The inserted something into the IV in my hand and I immediately felt something akin to the morphine. I asked what it was, and the nurse described it as, "Sort of like a cocktail except it works immediately.". I tried to nod through the dizziness that I was experiencing, and shut my eyes.

I don't remember much after that except for "waking up" in a white room with three big round bowl shaped things with about 10 light bulbs in each of them, and having about four people with masks on around me. I don't remember . . . I remember hearing them saying something about that they were going to take my gall bladder out, or, something like that, and honestly, I was too drugged to care. They put this mask over my face, and they told me to breathe in a few big breaths. I remember seeing the mask come down over my mouth and nose, and trying to take a deep breath in. I remember . . . the smell of it . . . it was almost sweet . . . I think I took about 4-5 breaths in, and shut my eyes to blink or something, or maybe I did it just to rest my eyes, and next thing I know I'm waking up in this long corridor with a couple nurses on my left side checking vitals and stuff. I opened my eyes, looked around, and promptly fell back to sleep. I did this about two other times as well, and after finally being strong enough/awake enough to tell the nurses that I was cold, they gave me another blanket, and I, once again, fell into a deep sleep. I don't know what time it was, or how long I had been sleeping, but I finally woke up, and was able to stay awake enough to hear the nurse say, "Do you feel strong enough to go to a recovery room?" I nodded, and don't remember any of the trip back to a recovery room. I just know that it seemed to take forever for my mom and Mrs. Rios to get there. "Mom . . ." I managed to say weakly. She smiled at me, and took my hand gently. I fell back to sleep, and next thing I heard was my dad's voice in the room saying, "How long has she been asleep?" my eyes flew open and managed to focus on him. I held out my hand to him, and he took it, and squeezed it gently. I sighed heavily and pushed the button on my bed control that made me sit up. The nurse came in a while later and asked me if I wanted anything to drink and eat. I nodded because I was extremely thirsty, and so I got some Sierra Mist and Apple sauce and was able to eat a little of the apple sauce and drink the Sierra Mist.

After signing the release forms (after the drugs had worn off) I was finally allowed to leave. I was so hungry though. I requested to go to Olive Garden for dinner that night since they had their "Never Ending Pasta Bowls" for a time. We got there, and I was barely able to stay awake.

The next day, Saturday, I pretty much just rested, but we had a friend over to look at my computer. Sunday we packed up the car and headed back up to Northland. However, this isn't the end, oh no, far from it. No, this is just the beginning . . .

Broken

My last entry was basically on how I had 19 days until going back to school. Now, it is the end of the fourth week of school at Northland International University, and I am sitting at home writing this blog entry. Three days before I was supposed to be at school, I found out that I had gall stones. The day I was supposed to be at school, I met with a surgeon and found out that the soonest they would be able to see me was two weeks later. I scheduled my gall bladder removal for September 17th, and quickly packed things up, threw them in the van, and early on Saturday morning headed up to school.

The trip up seemed to take longer than it actually did, and around 3:30 in the afternoon we were pulling into the parking lot of the Founder's Center and getting out to get me registered for my classes. I ran into several of my friends and we quickly got caught up on everything that had happened over the summer.

That evening we had a game in the gym. It was like a huge game of human bingo! It was a LOT of fun. We each got a letter when we came in the door, and then sat down wherever we wanted to. So, for example, when I came in, I had N42, and my mom had G40. The game was a lot of fun. After that, we all had about twenty minutes before the singspiration commenced and so my mom and I did a few things before heading back to the gym. It was an awesome time of just praising God, and being able to sing with our whole hearts. However, during the singspiration, I started getting jabbing pains in my side where my gall bladder was. This pain continued all night, but at different pain levels. After the singspiration was over, we all walked out to camp lake and watched some professionals put off some really nice fireworks. I was standing between my mom and my "unbiological brother" Michael. We were all enjoying the fireworks and then finally the finale came, and it was absolutely beautiful! During the finale, I started getting the pains again though. This time, they were more severe though. I didn't want to worry my mom or Michael, so I didn't say anything. The pain finally got so bad that I started getting dizzy . . . I tried to lock my knees, but . . . it didn't do much good. About 3/4 of the way through the finale I completely collapsed to the ground. It happened so fast . . . one second I'm looking at the spectacular fireworks, and next second I'm staring at the ground.

I remember trying to make sense of what had just happened, and realizing several people . . . or . . . maybe it was just my mom and Michael, were calling my name. I just stayed there on the ground, and suddenly burst into tears because the pain was getting to be too much. I felt Michael's arm go around me, and pull my body away from the cold wet ground. He helped me sit up, and his arm went around me arms to keep me up. I remember squeezing my eyes shut to try to block out the pain, but the pain was still there, real as ever. I remember Michael, and someone else, I can't remember who, helping me to my feet, and then my mom and Michael putting my arms around their necks and helping me up to the road. Suddenly I vaguely heard someone saying, "Mrs. Lantz, Mrs. Lantz, here, let me take her." and then Bob Rankin (one of my other good friends) was there taking my mom's place. I can't begin to tell you how bad it hurt to have my arms around their necks though. I kept pulling my arms down from around their necks, and they kept pulling them back up. I tried telling them to let me go, but then I heard someone say something to Michael, and he said, "This is my sister, I'm not letting her go.". Nice thought, but all I wanted at that point was for him to do just that. Now, if you don't know Michael and Bob, they are both quite tall. Bob is about 6'0-6'1" and Michael is 6'3" or something like that, but either way, they are a lot taller than me. I tried to get my shirt to stay down (it was sliding up because of all of the moving) but if I let go of the guys my knees started to give way. I remember looking up at one point from looking down at the ground and trying not to trip in the dark, and I saw Mr. Calverly--one of the men that worked regularly in the kitchen standing by us saying, "I'm with the Pembine Emergency Response Team" (PERT) "Is there anything I can do to help you guys?" I remember so many different scenes from that night, but . . . my mind can't remember which order the scenes go in. I remember sitting on the back of a Gator and slumping over, wishing I would just pass out from the pain already so I wouldn't have to deal with the pain any more. Then I remember sitting on the back edge of a mini van with Bob on my left, and Michael on my right. By this time my head was spinning, and my ears were kind of blocking out all of the commotion around me, but out of all of the voices, I heard one very very distinctly. It was Michael, with his arm around my shoulders holding me up, he said, "Here Kara, lean your head against me. Relax, there you go." I don't remember much, except for hearing him say that, and feeling his hand slide from my arm to my head to make me try to relax because my body was starting to stiffen against the pain.

Finally Mrs. Whitt came with her vehicle and drove me and my mom up to the nurses station. What was rather funny (yes, I was able to realize) was that Bob had ran all the way up to the nurses station from the lake, and beat us there, while we drove. I remember Michael and Bob helping me from Mrs. Whitt's car to our van, and . . . I can't remember much, but I remember thinking that "I wish that they could come with us to the hospital" because the nurse automatically said, "Take her to Dickenson County Hospital."

I swear, the trip into Iron Mountain has NEVER taken so long as it did that night. I was made to sign some papers, had a couple wrist bands put on me, and then put in a room. They did several blood tests, and gave me some fluids. At one point the Doctor stuck a few things into the IV and when the liquid hit my veins, I felt a shooting pain go through my entire hand. I asked them what it was, and they said it was something for nausea. A few minutes later they stuck something else in, and I asked what that was because it was making me feel extremely light-headed. "Morphine" the Doctor said with a slight smile. I said, "Oh." and then looked at my mom, and for some reason started crying. The Doctor patted my hand and said, "Now, if you start seeing any pink elephants flying around the room, you tell me, because we're missing two of them!" I nodded, and then realized how ridiculous it sounded, and then realized that he must have wanted me to let him know if I started seeing things to tell him, so he will lower the dose of drugs I was on. I started giggling like a little school girl, and for a while, couldn't control myself.

We got out of the hospital around 3 in the morning and headed back to school. I slept with my mom that night in her guest room, and the next morning, neither of us felt like going to church.

The story isn't done. The story has just begun. But for right now, the story of what has happened to me in the last six weeks, has come to a temporary close.

19 Days and Counting . . .

19 Days. 19 days to get all of my supplies together and packed. 19 days until I pack my stuff in the van and head back up to school. 19 days until I spend another excrutiatingly long 9 months away from my family. 19 days. (*sigh*) I am honestly not sure what is going through my head right now. I guess it's full of mixed emotions.

I guess I'm scared because I'm nervous about how my grades are gonna be, but at the same time, I'm also not looking forward to 3/4th's of my life spent in northern Wisconsin in almost total suclusion. 9 Months were 7 of them have at least 4 inches of snow on the ground, and 6 of them have tempratures below freezing, and the snow starts in October where here in Indiana snow starts in December or Janurary.


(*sigh*) School. 5 days of getting up at 6 and 7 o'clock in the morning in order to get to devotions on time. 5 days of alternating class schedules. Sometimes starting class at 1:30 pm. and getting out at 3:30 pm., and other times starting at 8:00 am. and getting out at 4:30 pm. Yeah, it makes for a long day. I think Choir was my favorite though. You could sit down and sing. Sing for all you were worth. Singing and playing piano helps me forget the stress and troubles of a day. The Christmas and Spring Concert are definetly my favorite times of the school year because we get to memorize a bunch of beautiful songs that praise our Redeemer, and then perform them in front of the whole student body.


Summer has been amazing. I've had a few great outings with me and "the guys" usually consisting of my brother and one or two other guy friends, and a lot of the time we ended up encouraging each other spiritually. That was nice because sometimes summer can be so dry . . . not just with the heat, but spiritually as well because I don't have the constant Christian fellowship that I had at school. I'm really looking forward to getting back to my friends and amazing teachers. I went to the beach a few times this summer (and thankfully got a decent tan) and took a few pictures.

This was a sunset that we saw while we were in Saugatuck, Michigan at Oval Beach.

This was "homemade" I guess you could say. My brother had just walked across in front of me, and so I wrote the word "Footprints" over head of the prints he had just made in the sand. Reminding me of the poem "Footprints in the sand.
"One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there were one set of footprints.

This bothered me because I noticed
that during the low periods of my life,
when I was suffering from
anguish, sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.

So I said to the Lord,
“You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
there have only been one set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?”

The Lord replied,
“The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand,
is when I carried you.”"

I have so many memories of this summer . . . it would take several months to name all of them, and share all of the different times I captured with my camera. But I do know this. If I hadn't had the encouragment from some of my friends from school, I wouldn't be who I am today. I would probably have fallen away from the Lord and not be returning to school. It wasn't exactely good circumstances that drove me to this, it was more of the times when I saw my friends falling away and I didn't want them too, so I tried to pull them back, and in the process I helped myself by realizing that God is the only one that will ever satisfy. As I return to school in 19 days, I am not going to go worried about what might happen, but I will remember that the Lord already has my future planned out, and He will only do what is best for me. 19 days and counting . . . not exactely until school starts, but 19 days until I can put what I have learned this summer into practise.