Posted by emme at 4:57 PM
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Posted by emme at 4:50 PM
I wanted to make sure to write a little bit more about my post, "Thursday's Child." Sometimes I'm so involved in my own thoughts, I forget that not everyone can peek inside my head and see exactly what I meant by something I wrote or said. And I just couldn't have you miss out on "Thursday's" neatness! *wink*
When I was very small, my grandmother would sit me her knee and recite the poem that I posted in "Thursday's" blog post. That memory has always stuck with me and even now, I still carry a special fondness for this anonymously written poem. It dates way back, and was often used to teach children the order of the weekdays.
So, remembering all of this, I decided to find out what day of the week I was born on. Which, of course, was a Thursday...hence the title of my blog post. I also looked up the day of the week some of my favorite stars were born on.
So, each of the stars are represented for the actual day of the week they were born on. Isn't it funny how some of them matched up coincidentally with perfect traits they carried?
You wouldn't believe how hard it was to find a vintage movie star who was born on a Friday!
Anyways, just thought I would elaborate a bit! A lot of thought went behind it all, don't ya' know? *smile*
Posted by emme at 3:57 PM
Monday's child is fair of face.
Wednesday's child is full of woe.
Thursday's child has far to go.
Saturday's child works hard for a living,
October 27, 1918
But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day
Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.
Posted by emme at 6:34 PM
In a little more than a week from today, I will be trying to make my way through a maze of buildings on a rather large college campus. Building 245 will be the one I have been searching for.
If I do perhaps, chance to find it, butterflies will be fluttering in my stomach, as I wait, impatiently, for the elevator to take me to the second floor. The pleasant-voiced woman on the other end of the telephone instructed me to ask anyone on the floor to direct me to her office..."They'll be sure to point you in the right direction." But what will I do when I finally make my way there?
I've been instructed to bring a writing sample. A research paper that will show my abilities in that area. The essay won't really be that important. The opportunity will mostly be based on our interview.
As I take my seat, my mouth will be as dry as a bone and my mind will have gone completely blank. I will keep trying to remind myself that there will be other chances; other days. But it really does very little to quiet the questioning thoughts running through my mind. What will she say? Even more importantly...what will I say??
I know that I won't be able to help staring down at the shoes I am wearing...which, as a side note, will hopefully be Sarah's best black heels. I always seem to stare at my shoes when I'm nervous.
I will try to keep my hands folded in my lap as she rearranges the papers on her desk, but when I am not looking, my left hand will sneak up to twist around and around one of the earrings I am wearing. I clench it tightly with my other hand, but up it sneaks again. It's a losing battle.
I try to remind myself that a twenty minute interview isn't very long at all...but, I also know that, for me, one who has always tended to be painfully shy, it will seem like an eternity.
I have been so blessed to have been offered this opportunity. So...I will try to keep my concentration on those feelings of joy and fear, humility and blessedness that continue to sweep over me.
That, and a remembrance that when God closes a door, somewhere He opens a window.
Posted by emme at 12:13 AM
Isn't it terrible?
Here I was, all set to devote an entire post to the fact that I am disappointed for the very first time in my blog. Oh, I had some wonderfully legitimate reasons devoted to the topic...about how plain and insignificant and utterly un-wonderful my blog is. I hit some strong points in there for sure. Such as feeling sorry for myself about not having followers, not having readers....not having, not having, not having.
You might see a few changes around here, but I'm definitely not going to jump ship as I was all set to do...that is, before I remembered to focus on myself and not on everyone (or should I say everyone's blogs) around me.
I may not have exceptional photography to showcase, I may not be the funniest girl on the block...I may not even really have anything worthwhile to say. But when I really stop to think about it, I didn't start my blog with any of these things in mind. Maybe that's why I feel as if I lost that spark that kept me loving to write here. Maybe in all of my striving or hoping to be something that I am not...I lost the bit that was most important.
I once wrote that, "Someday I'll realize that my life, no matter how small, has meant something. That the things that I felt, and thought, and experienced, weren't small, insignificant things to be forgotten, but all took a part in the making of...well, me...and they thereby have a right to be remembered."
And suddenly I feel ashamed. I've let certain thoughts and feelings crowd in where they shouldn't have been. I took something that was fun and loveable and turned it into something stressful and disappointing. I let these unhealthy thoughts not only run away with my feelings towards my blog, but also other, more important things about myself.
I'm hoping that I've learned something from the younger me. Sometimes I get so focused on the here and now or the maybe and when, that I forget to focus on what really matters. As much as I want certain things to be certain ways in my life, I can never help matters along by grouching about them.
So...I suppose this post really didn't have any purpose at all. I suppose I just needed to hear the tapping of the keys and the sigh of my heart as I place my feet back on the path I've chosen to travel. It isn't always fun, and sometimes it is just downright satisfying to be a grump every once in awhile. But that isn't who I am. I know that with God right here, holding me between His fingertips, I can follow this path wherever it may lead.
Posted by emme at 6:16 PM
I'm sure by now you can tell how much I love letters. Old letters, new letters, war letters, love letters, everyday letters. Letters that make me laugh; letters that make me cry; letters that poke me beneath the ribs with their honesty or cause me to shiver with their resonant truth.
Letters sometimes provide you with such profound insight into the depths of the human soul. The short letter below, written by a young man fighting in Vietnam to his aunt back home, captures some unspeakable beauty in his humble thoughts that struck a chord in my own heart.
Though not openly sharing my beliefs regarding heaven and eternity, something in this young soldier's sentiments causes me to nod my head in agreement every time and reminds me to strive every day to change the world, albeit in some small, humble way. I hope it touches your heart as much as it has touched mine.
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