Learning to jump...

For those of you who haven't heard, I went to New Zealand last fall, and while I was there, one of the epic things that I did was go skydiving. I don't consider myself much of a thrill-seeker, but skydiving has been on my bucket list for ages, so I was completely excited to be able to check it off in a country as gorgeous as  New Zealand. Oh my goodness! For a few seconds, I remember screaming- my mouth getting dry with the rush of air- and then realizing that I couldn't hear myself. It took me a bit to come to grips with the fact that I had just tumbled out of a plane- and lived! I had no idea how peaceful I would feel floating 12,000 feet above the ground. It was more spectacularly beautiful than I could've ever imagined, and it was so delightful and comforting to know that my instructor was taking care of everything, and I just got to enjoy the ride. 


Last year, the big thing that God taught me was that I could wait patiently, and know that he would provide for me just when I needed it. All year long, I practiced living in trust, and all year long, I saw Him supply my needs at just the right moment. Well, I have a feeling that this year is going to be building off of last year. This year, I think I will have to move beyond waiting. This year, I think I'm going to learn how to jump. This year, I want to learn to leap from the plane, and know that He's going to open the parachute. It's a scary feeling- getting ready to jump. But there's something peaceful about knowing that my Jesus is taking care of everything.  I don't know exactly what this means for me, or in what way it will apply to my life, but I'm excited to find out, and there's no one I'd rather free-fall with than Jesus!


~Jasmine

Lessons from an onion

I so love lessons that are learned from random, everyday occurrences. Such was the case for me yesterday. I was planning dinner, and one of the items needed was an onion. I have a love/hate relationship with onions. I love the way they make food taste, but hate the way they make my breath and hands smell, and I absolutely hate to cut onions because of the way I can't stop crying while I'm cutting. Yesterday, I had the onion to top all onions. Tears were running down my face, my makeup was smearing, and as hard as I tried, I could not re-open my eyes once the toxic fumes had reached them. (Now that I think about it, it was probably a really bad idea to keep cutting at that point...) If someone could figure out how to turn the smell of onions into a weapon, it would be a discovery of epic proportions because I'm pretty sure there's nothing that could stand against it. 

 Anyway... My lesson from the onion is just this: sometimes in life, the things that make us cry the hardest, are the things that add the most flavor. Sometimes, the hardest circumstances produce the sweetest results. It's the lowest points of a story that make the ending all the happier. My soup wouldn't be as tasty without those onions that make me cry, and my life wouldn't be as rich without the things that make me cry either. 

So as I enjoy my soup today, I'm thankful for the onions, and thankful for the reminder that the hard things that I've gone through are the things that have made my life so much sweeter!


~Jazzy

You can't quite tell, but I'm really, really crying here

Wanna come?

It's 12:30 in the morning and I should be in bed. But instead of snuggling up under my down comforter, dreaming of summer, and vacation, and all things good, I'm about to pull my hair out because of homework! The clock is finally counting off its last few ticks in my countdown until graduation, but at this moment, it feels like time is crawling and the awaited day of February the 26th (my very last day of school) will never arrive. As I sit, lost in this never-ending moment, I mull over the dream that usually pops into my head every few months, but lately has been surfacing more and more frequently: I'm contemplating running away! When I start to get stressed, I always return to this back-up plan. I never "ran away" when I was young, so I think this desire must be delayed from when I was five. Recently, someone informed me that it's no longer considered running away if you're 21- it's called moving. Well moving isn't nearly as adventurous sounding as running away, and therefore "run away" remains on the list of things to do before I die, and the more homework I do, the higher up it moves on the list. I'm thinking the beach sounds nice. I can pack up a knapsack on a stick the way little kids do, point myself west, and keep walking till I hit ocean. 

Anyone care to come?

~Jazzy