Gray.

I've been sitting at Panera for a few hours now. I escaped from campus without a scratch. I should be doing my homework since that's what I came here to do, but I am writing this.

It's been getting harder and harder to do all the things I should be doing and to become this person that I "should be." Should be, want to be, who I am. The lines are blurring together and all the black and white are blending into an unattractive shade of gray. One of my closest friends often likes to ask me, "What color was your day today?" If I'm honest, I would tell her that lately, my days have been gray.

I can't really tell you what happened between now and last semester, when my days were blue, orange, red, an periwinkle. I think one of the most difficult places to be in this life is knowing how you want to feel but not being able to feel those things. Knowing how you want to be in awe of the changing seasons and how you want to be thankful that you have all your limbs. I don't know. I guess I just don't want to go through this life unaware and not cherishing the precious minutes I have.

It's like that line in our song, Larky - "I won't be standing in my way." I don't mean to be corny or anything, but I just know that I am the one standing in the way of what I want to be, what I want to do. Even these thoughts of what I "should be." I'm so afraid of what people think of me. I'm so afraid to offend, to anger people. It's cause I'm a people pleaser. That's what I do. And then I look at other people who are doing the things they want to do, and I get jealous. And bitter. What is this?

It's ridiculous. That's what it is.

Your wings will grow soon enough, Larky. Just wait. And I bet it will be the most amazing feeling to leave the ground.

Love,
G Love

a caterpillar.

It's October 1st. The first day that it's been sweater worthy weather. What happened since the last time I posted? Everything. I moved all of my stuff back to Princeton, and moved in with my roomie G Love (that's you)!

I started classes, and somehow was swallowed into another daily routine. A routine that pushes me around when I don't want to be pushed. A routine that takes away my time. The time that I am borrowing. The time that I don't ever want to waste. The time that I tend to abuse. The time that I try to control. The control that I can't really have but I still hold onto so tightly. The control that pushes me farther and farther away from God. But then God is pulling me up when I get pushed around. He is pulling me up when I abuse the time that I borrowed from Him. He is pulling me up when I try to take control.

He is pulling me up because I am on the ground. I am on the ground because I don't have wings. I don't have wings because I haven't grown them yet. I haven't grown them yet because I am on the ground.

I want to grow wings.

-Larky

Time

Hey G Love,

Your post is so true. We do live in the past and the future, but hardly in the present. But why is that?
I am a day dreamer. I picture things and I make up things and I remember things. I dwell on things and I wait for things. I hope for things. I doubt things. I imagine things. I can hardly ever just be in something because I am too busy looking back and looking forward.

And why do I spend so much time on this? It's not like there is an endless supply of hours in a day. The days go by so quick. The weeks and the years. I am left here on a Saturday night wondering how this week even happened. How this summer happened. How in another week I will be back at school in my dorm room (with you eek!). Why is it that things happen so quickly? The world is on speed, I swear. Ask any old person and they will say: "Oh you just wait little girl! It just keeps getting faster! Before you know it you'll be wishing you could get back all of the time that you wasted!" And I wonder why they all say the same thing. And THEN because you've wasted so much time, you dwell on the fact that you wasted it--which wastes more time.

Sigh.

I hope I'm not wasting time writing this blog...just kidding. Sort of.

And don't we live on borrowed time? Is anything guaranteed in this world? Nothing is promised. Except for what God promises of course. He has a whole book of promises ready to be offered to us. But everything else fails.

Places fail me. People fail me, sometimes without even meaning to. My memories fail me. My dreams fail me.

And that's what I am learning. The fact that God is the only one who can fill me up. The only one who can hold me up and keep me going. Everyday.

I am going to take a bubble bath.
Love,
L

This is love.

Maybe you've seen this video already. I just viewed this today. It messed me up.

The fight to remember.

Hey L,

So, about this rug... I'll be honest... I LOVE IT. Psychedelic is good! Hahaha. This will be a nice rug to fall asleep on when the sun is shining through our window and we want to skip class. We should vacuum it often though. Because of the hair and dust bunnies and stuff. (It took me several tries to spell the word 'vacuum.' What an awkward word!)

Anywho, your entry - so much of it was not what I wanted to hear, but it was what I needed to hear, for sure. So much of my summer has been spent feeling the opposite. I haven't been feeling like God wants to use me, for many reasons. And I guess I haven't been feeling that I even want God to use me. I know a big part of me fears what He is going to ask of me, once I offer everything that I have and everything that I am. How quickly and easily I have forgotten the love, pain, joy, and growth I experience though when He does use me and others to share love with each other!

Humans are funny creatures. We often live in the past and the future, but rarely in the present. Or maybe that's just me. My friend told me that humans are the only species that actively ignore their own kind. Humans can so easily forget the good things in this life and dwell on the bad. Maybe these statements aren't entirely true, but these are things that I've observed and thought about.



The last part about forgetting... I am plagued with it. I forgot how and what God has shown me in this life. He showed me what true beauty was when I went to Africa, where there were no mirrors and I didn't have to deal with make-up and I spent my days with beautiful people who had nothing but had everything. He showed me that we don't have to be stagnant about the injustice in our world and that every little bit makes a difference. Every little bit. Did you know that $1 is equal to clean water for an African for an entire year? That equation used to blow my mind. So much that in high school my friends and I got together and raised awareness and money to build water wells in Africa. I barely think about it anymore. That makes me really sad. And I forgot about my journey to Westminster, how I chose to go to Catholic University instead of WCC at first, but somehow I ended up at WCC. The timing was perfect. There were people I met at CUA that changed my life and I never would've met them if I chose to go to WCC first. And there are people at WCC whom I'm sure I would've not been as close with had I not had to repeat my freshmen year.



Thoughts like these have been flooding my head lately and there are just some parts of my story where the word "coincidence" is not enough.

I guess what I'm saying is that I feel like I've reached the end of myself. I'm just waiting to be rescued. And I know I will be.

Some news on the homefront:



1) We got a puppy! Her name is Bella and we got her from an Amish family in Pennsylvania. My parents have given me the job of training her. This is only the second day she's been living with us and training her/taking care of her is truly one of the hardest things I've had to do in my life so far, partly because I'm allergic to dog saliva and dander (but I'm sucking it up like a real man!) and because I've never had a dog for a pet. It's a challenge. Exactly what I need. And she's adorable. I think I'm falling in love.



2) Have you heard of the musician Francesca Battistelli? Well, she's playing a show in a town near my town and I'm opening for her... AHHHHHH!!!! HOW CRAZY IS THAT?! God totally blew me away with that one. So, Francesca is pregnant and can't play a full set. Her manager contacted the woman booking the concert and asked her if there was anyone local that could open. This woman knows one of my friends from church and asked him if he knew anyone. He and his wife and the dude helping me record my EP were talking and asked me if I'd be interested... I still can't believe it! I only played two open mics this summer and I was kinda bummed that I didn't get any shows together, so when God brought along this opportunity, I was speechless. This summer has been challenging and I can honestly say that it's (or part of it) has been one of the lowest times in my life. And then God brings this along. It's ridiculous! So, we're getting a band together and we're playing 2 covers and 3 of my originals on August 22 at the Weinberg Center for the Arts. AHHHHH!!!!! I'm. so. excited.

You have a show coming up, right? If you do, good luck! It'll be wonderful :) Can't wait to hear from you!

Love,
G Love

More matters.

Question: Do you like this rug? Be honest. I thought we could put it in our room, but I'm not sure if it's too psychedelic, hahaha. Of course, how could you ever be too psychedelic, you know? I'm sure there's a way...it's pretty extreme with the colors. But my sister said I could have it..so I thought what the heck, right?

Ahemm..

In other news, I know what you mean. You get off easy saying the typical Sunday School answer because it was ingrained in you when you were a child. I've done the same thing. It's like you know the Bible and what it says, but do you really believe it all of the time?

Sometimes I think we are so caught up in doubt solely because of the fact that we can't understand the bigger picture. We KNOW that there is a bigger picture, but we stand underneath it completely in awe. Like "how in the world is that even possible?" And so we doubt because our day to day lives seem so small and even meaningless at times.

The thing is that God expects greatness in us. He is our Father and Creator. Why wouldn't His expectations be high? They are high because He LOVES us and wants the best for us and wants us in His kingdom. Now that is of course the typical Sunday School answer. So how do I see this? I walk my dog around the block everyday. It's like my quiet time where I don't have to think about any particular thing..except for my feet moving in front of me one after the other down the sidewalk. Today the sun was setting and a breeze was moving the trees and blowing my hair around. I felt tall and I felt small at the same time. And then I started thinking: God is SO using me. He has to be. Why else would I wake up and get out of bed every morning? Why else would I have a fully working mind and a healthy body? Why else would I have a passion for music and a passion for writing and reading. And why would I get joy out of making other people feel joy? It's like when I babysit and I make Karen laugh and I see that she is in a good mood because of God in me. THAT is what makes everything worth it. And when I am singing to a crowd and I see that my music actually affects them. That is what makes it all worth it.

It is in the small things, Hannah. It is in the small things that we start to see our purpose. And it is confusing, because it's hard to fully understand our own way. Remember Proverbs 20:24?

You don't have to witness to thousands per day in order to be "doing something." God wants you to be a witness inside your own house and your own bedroom. When you are buying a slurpy at the gas station. When you are walking around your neighborhood. When you are writing songs and sitting in class and hanging out in the Dining Commons. When you're in Maryland (Mirrland).

Just a few thoughts. Not sure if it makes sense (I haven't read it back yet haha). But as far as where hope comes from, look at Lamentations 3:24-26. A part of it says: "'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul, 'Therefore I hope in Him!'" The Lord is my portion. It's like we can have God and be FULL. That's all we need! Hoping is like waiting (as you'll read further in the passage)

Love: read anywhere in the Bible really! Hah! But it's funny how no matter what, we are still looking for love. We are trying to figure it out even though God has it all down already. It's crazy. The passage that sticks out to me is Romans 5. Faith triumphs in trouble is the title (and YOU have the same twin Bible as me yay!)
So I hope it's as encouraging to you as it was to me.

Love you girl,
Hannah L

Belief.

Dear Hannah L,

I'll be honest with you. I had a really difficult time reading your latest entry the first time around. A couple of days ago, I was really struggling with my thoughts on God, Jesus, religion, love, what I believe in. And you know, I'm still struggling. I've camped out in this place for a while now, the place where I know I don't want to believe in something just because my parents do or just because my friends do and I will believe in it too because I want to be accepted. My words are so cheap sometimes. They can be sounds that escape my lips in hopes that someone will nod his or her head in agreement. And most of the time, people do, because I've figured out what to say and how to say it to get people's approval. I'm tired of it. If I say that I believe in something, I want to say it and mean it.

The thing is, I want to believe in Jesus. I want to believe in something bigger than myself, that what I'm doing now, trying to love, is helping to build heaven. Maybe I'm selfish, but living a good life just to live it is not enough for me. If I die and nothing happens to my soul after it, it all just seems kind of worthless in some ways. I know a lot of arguments can be made against that statement, but I guess when I hear talk of an afterlife, of living forever, it leaves me wondering.

There are a few things I am sure of about this life, though:
1) Pride is a terrible monster. Pride is what keeps me from experiencing love from others. It's what fuels my jealousy and isolates me in my Hannah G Love bubble. And when pride is done with me, it leaves me face down on the floor.
2) Our world is a broken place full of broken humans with broken hearts. The wars, both visible and invisible, the violence, the injustice, the sadness. But somehow, and I might never understand this, there is beauty and rescue. Through the cracks, there is that light that you spoke of in your last entry. The light that is hope.
3) My purpose on earth is to love. I have resources, advantages, and gifts that I can use to meet the needs of other people. If I chose to commit my life to doing that, I don't think I'd regret one second of it. If I can help ease someone's suffering for just a moment, it is all worth it.

Okay, so this entry seems all over the place, I'm really sorry, haha. Like you, writing is a much easier way to try to sort everything out that goes on in my head. And after reading what I just wrote, the things that I'm sure of, it might seem to some that those can stand alone. And I completely understand where they're coming from. Like, why does God or Jesus need to fit in there? Not being prideful and wanting hope and love should be good enough, right? It would be so much easier if I could just say that. My question though is - what's the source of hope and love? I want to know, because I want more of it. And if it is in fact God, if it's Jesus, I'd like to know.

Thanks for your last entry - I find hope in it. I'd like to feel like that someday.

Love,
G Love

Pan Plan Pain Plane Pan

Dear Hannah G Love [and anyone who reads this],

Writing is my release. I am not so good with speaking--it always comes out pausy and weird...and usually not what I intended lol. But writing makes sense. So my head is crammed and empty at the exact same time. And since I have no idea where I am going with my music these days, I figured I might as well keep writing blogs until I figure it out. I have to get this out somehow.

God directs us, right? He directs us in our path. He makes sure that we are going the right way and He is always speaking to us. He doesn't sit back on His throne in Heaven, wind up a clock, and say, "Here goes nothing!" He is always working in us.

So He has a specific plan for me. A specific plot and a specific scheme. From the time that I was born to the time that I die, God wants to use me in every way possible. He doesn't want me to be in pain, but He does put me through tests? Tests to see if I am living by faith. Tests to make sure that I am not trying to control everything. Tests for me to grow.

So God has promised me a whole lot. He has promised me life, grace, mercy, forgiveness, life, love, life, love; the list goes on and on. He has promised me a purpose and He has promised me gift after gift.

He is walking with me down this narrow path and I can only see a few feet in front of me at a time. Everything around me is dark except for a small light shining down through two clouds. This light steers the way for my feet. My feet stumble and I trip a lot. I fall onto the dusty ground. The ground is cold and gravity tries to keep me there. The ground tries to tell me that I should turn to the dark. I should turn to anything except for the light for help. I am too tired to question it, so I do end up turning around. Running away.

Eventually I need light again. My eyes are blinded from being in the dark for too long. I crawl back to the lighted strip of land, hopeless and hopeful. The light is a shock to my system. From there God picks me up and carries me back to where I need to be. And I feel somewhat stronger than I was before. Only because Christ strengthened me.

We all need to be reminded every day of God's love. Because it only takes one negative thought for you to want to turn around. To run away. To try and control the plan. BUT GOD! GOD has it down! If we could just see it and live it. Everyday.

Love,
Hannah L

clutter.

I hate stuff. Today I hate it. Why do I have so much stuff? Next to my yoga mat there is a sheet of paper on my floor, a candle, two empty water bottles, a string, a charger, a t-shirt, and an envelope. My dresser is dusty and I won't dust it because there are bobby pins, pens and paper stacked on top of it. My bed has a Target bag on it, a pair of sweatpants, my Bible, another water bottle, and 5 pillows. My closet doors will barely close because I have so many old shoe boxes and shoes and clothing and GAP bags and Target bags and DSW bags and ERG! TOO MUCH. For WHAT? WHY must I have SO MUCH STUFF. And honestly, compared to most people I know, I have less stuff then them. I usually get rid of things when I move from place to place--so now I'm not really left with so much clutter. But it's still SO MUCH CLUTTER. Too many displaced objects that I don't know where to put. So they just kind of collect there, until I have my usual cleaning attack where I must clean everything.

Seriously people, there is something to be said about being simple. Don't be a collector unless it really means something to you. I mean don't get me wrong; I keep things and I love being sentimental. But I have too much stuff. I want to throw it all into a giant Hefty bag.

I think it's driving me crazy. That and being home.

That's all.

Hannah L

Thoughts on "Bothered"

From reading your blog "Bothered," I realized just how bothered I was. And I'm beginning to believe that you can change the things that bother you. You are SO RIGHT HANNAH. And I knew this before, but I just didn't believe it.

When my hair bothers me, I get a haircut. When my back bothers me, I go to physical therapy. When my head bothers me, I take Ibuprofen (which I probably shouldn't do). When my dog bothers me, I give him a bone. When my body bothers me, I go for a run.

But when I am bothered by a good friend who called me a name (a name you wouldn't ever call a friend), I don't do anything about it. When I am bothered by the fact that me and my dad barely speak to each other, I don't do anything about it. When I am bothered by Karen giving me attitude, I don't do anything about it. When I am bothered by Satan, I don't do anything about it. I give in. I let things go too easily. And I hate it.

I want to fight for everything that I believe in. If it means telling off my friend to make sure that he never calls me that name again, fine. If it means going out of my way to strike up light conversations with my dad, fine. If it means scolding Karen, fine. If it means calling on the name of Jesus--then thank God. Because that has the best results.

I am tired of not saying anything. Of keeping things in. It's so much like living a lie. And I'm not trying to be all dramatic or anything...but I want to be honest. I guess I'm just afraid that what I say doesn't make any sense. I am just a poet (lol) who thinks too much and over analyzes. Sigh.

IN ANY CASE! The weekend of my show was just...I still am so surprised by it. Everything went right, nothing went wrong. I had to do nothing but trust in God, and He pulled through EVERY TIME. I will have to tell you the details later, but let me just say that God is good. You would have LOVED the venue. It was folk central station. And Stephen drove me and helped me set up and supported me and..he is amazing. I could go on for pages about him, lol. But I probably shouldn't do that..on here. :)

This entry was way weird. No idea if the context has a point or not...or if it's even interesting to read. I hope it is. These are just my thoughts at the moment, as I sit on my kitchen counter top drinking mint tea--again. Sigh. Pretty sunset to watch outside my window. Columbus is sitting on the floor under my feet. He's so cute.
Tell me how you're doingggg. And I'll see you in two days! Love you Hanner! And everyone who reads this :)

--L

Release.

It's been a while since I have been this content.

I'm by myself in an empty house in Princeton eating a TV dinner listening to Priscilla Ahn's cover of "Julia" by The Beatles. The sun hasn't set yet and there is a faint breeze filtering through the window screens.

My friend has been kind enough to put me up in her house for the week since I'm in town attending a seminar. This is one of the most charming houses I've ever been in. I slept with a piano, a guitar, and a violin in the house's practice room on an air mattress that had a hole in it. It was one of the best sleepovers I've ever had. This morning, I woke up on a deflated mattress and a grin on my face.

I love my family and friends and I like my hometown and all, but this is just what I needed. Right now, this moment is causing me to stop and be at peace. Let life come. It's a lot like singing. Music. It's not about control. It's about release.

Can't wait to hear about your show, L. Miss you.

Love,
G Love

Bothered.

When I was a senior in high school, I wrote for my school newspaper. I can't really remember why I signed up for the class in the first place. I had no aspirations of becoming a journalist and to be honest, I never really read our newspaper during my previous three years at the school. I probably just wanted an "easy" class. Or maybe some of my good friends decided to sign up for that class. Yeah, that was probably it.

Anywho, writing for the newspaper was foreign to me. I knew how to write essays for school. They had formulas. Introduction. Body. Conclusion. BAM. I was good to go for my AP English Language and Composition exam (not really, I scored terribly). Writing for the newspaper was somewhat different. I mean, yeah, you had to include certain things if you were writing in the news section - who, what, where, when, how, blah, blah, blah. But I got to choose what I would write about, what I thought was important enough that the rest of the student body should hear about it.

I found my home in the editorial section. This is funny because when I was in high school, I was deathly afraid to share my opinions. At one point, I was even convinced that I didn't have an opinion about anything. I avoided participating in any class discussions because I was afraid of offending someone or I was busy shading all the coffee mugs I had sketched in my planner. I feel that I'm a lot better at writing than I am at speaking (if you know me, it's awkward turtle all the way with me, man) when sharing my opinions. So, writing editorials it was.

I bring all of this up because this morning, I came across several issues of "The Talon," as it was called (our mascot was a screaming eagle) that I had written articles for. I don't know if you've ever had that experience of watching yourself in embarrassing home videos or listening to how you sound in your cellphone's outgoing voicemail message and you exclaim, "I looked like that?!" or "I sound like that?!" When I read my past articles, I had that same feeling. But it wasn't of embarrassment; it was a feeling of wonder... What happened to my heart?

In one issue, I wrote an article titled "Trash Talk" in which I discussed how my classmates and I complained about the cleanliness of our school when we were the ones leaving our trash everywhere. At the end of it, I challenged our students to throw their trash away and any other trash that was lying around, even if it wasn't theirs. In another issue, I wrote an article about our society's definition of beauty and how it was up to our generation to redefine it. I remember interviewing girls about their ideas of beauty and one girl answered this:

A beautiful person isn't necessarily someone who looks perfect and acts perfectly all the time. It's someone who is comfortable with herself. She knows she has flaws, and yet she still finds confidence beyond those flaws.

The one news article I did write was about my friends and I and our trip to Africa. The whole time I was reading these articles from my past, I felt like I was reading the work of a stranger. Taking action about the problems in our world, telling girls that they were beautiful despite what society was telling them, getting together with my friends and serving others... these desires, these actions, seem so far from where my heart is now.

When I was in Tanzania, I remember one of our friends saying, "Things change when we are bothered by something." Isn't that the truth? People lose weight when they are bothered by their lack of energy or because they are bothered by how they look in their clothes. Someone might change their seat at the lunch table because they are bothered by the smell of their friend's tuna fish sandwich (SIKE, I LOVE TUNA). So the question I'm asking myself is: What bothers me? And a question for you (you = Larson and you = our readers): What bothers you? And a question for all of us: What are we going to do to change what is unjust in our world? If we won't do it, who will?

Enough of my rambling. Your last entry was beautiful. A sort of peephole into the mystery that is Larson. Thanks for sharing :]

Love,
G Love

the PK

Dear Hannah G,

I have been referred to as the PK or "pastor's kid" for as long as I can remember. I grew up in churches, I prayed the "Now I lay me down to sleep" prayer every night, and I had a wooden plaque above my bed that said "Hannah: Graceful One."

My dad did Bible Trivia at the dinner table once a week and gave me a dollar if I answered a question right (more like Bible Bribes). I moved states every two years and moved churches and houses and schools. My parents always told me to be on my best behavior so that the people in the church would know that I was a good little girl. Same with my two brothers and sister of course. I put on a nice outfit and went to church every Sunday. I watched my parents smile and greet the people and invite them over for dinner. My mom put on a dress for any sort of church event. And when we were planning to pack and move again, my parents would say, "Little bird, don't tell anyone at church yet, okay?" My life was one big mystery to people, and sometimes there wasn't any use trying to explain it.

God made me into some sort of nomad. I never stayed in one place for too long. And I guess it sort of forced me to trust in Him because He was the only thing that was constant. He was the only one who followed me wherever I went...and carried me for that matter.

But when I wasn't thankful that God was keeping me safe, I was doubting and turning away. I was rebellious and irritable. I didn't listen during church and I didn't read my Bible on my own. I wanted things to be MY way, so I tried my best to control things. Control. Why am I always trying to have it? And when I read my Bible, nothing would stick. All of the memory verses and all of the stories dissolved somewhere in my head and I just didn't trust it. I didn't think that God was really there.

I was talking to someone about the Bible and the book of Revelation, and I realized that I didn't know much about it. I'm not sure exactly what I believe will happen when the world ends. And then they said, "Well you're the pastor's kid, you should know." And I don't think they meant anything by it, but it struck me. And all of this popped into my head this morning, and I had to get it out.

It's strange to think that the past is nonexistent. Everyone tries to say that the past doesn't matter. But seriously, it may be nonexistent, but it's still a part of history. And it's a part of my history. And I just had to get this out.

The other day Stephen said, "It's not nonsense, it's Godsense." Hah! Isn't that so true? We aren't really supposed to understand it all, because we are just His little creatures. I kind of think that God is protecting us by letting us be a little ignorant. His love and His perfect plan is so great that we will never fully be able to wrap our minds around it; while we're on this earth.

But we can see glimpses of it. Like those amazing sunsets I've been seeing lately. And when I climb to the very top of a mountain to a lookout. When I feel His love through another person. When I realize that I could have never planned out my life to make so much sense.

I really loved your post. Posts, actually. Hahaha. Sorry I disappeared for awhile. :]

Love,
Hannah L

Pot, porn, penguin sex, and all.

Dear L,

I've recently been reading a book titled Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. And by "recently," I actually mean "the past two days." Maybe you've heard of this book or maybe you haven't. I heard about this book a few years ago from some friends and I refused to read it.

Until yesterday.

I'll be completely honest. I was wary of reading this book because I didn't want to become another victim of some passing-craze in the Christian subculture. Over the past few years, I've begun to develop an aversion to "fads" (be it a phrase like "W.W.J.D" or even literature like "The Prayer of Jabez") that seem to sweep Christians across our nation off their feet. While the intent behind such ideas may be "good," to me, they just come off as another way to somehow cut off ourselves from the world, in a bad way. I had no idea what this book was about. I assumed it was some book giving Christians yet another formula to follow to "live in a more godly way" or "hear God better."

I was wrong. And I am so glad. There are countless quotes from this book that I want to include in this entry, but then, I might as well just retype this whole book. Which I won't do. But at least to give you an idea of what this book is all about, I'll share with you what is written on the page titled "Author's Note":

I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn't resolve. But I was outside the Bagdad Theater in Portland one night when I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes.
After that I liked jazz music.
Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way.
I used to not like God because God didn't resolve. But that was before any of this happened.
- Donald Miller

I read that yesterday and before I knew it, I was on page 35. I know why I cannot tear myself away from this book. It is because it is honest and real, and I mean really honest and real. This book is a compilation of his honest thoughts on Christianity - how we can get so caught up in religion that we miss the point (aka LOVE); how there are people who do not label themselves "Christians" but know so much more about what it means to love than people who do call themselves "Christians"; how we often confuse "faith" with "feeling"... the list could go on. This guy's thoughts echo so many of the thoughts that have been spinning around in my head. It's not sugarcoated at all. It's completely human. Pot, porn, penguin sex, and all.

There are seasons of my life when I feel like I can say with confidence that "God is real" and "Jesus is God." But then, there are so many more seasons of my life when I try to explain this "belief" out loud and I just feel outright silly. There's a God? He became a man? Do I just believe this because I was raised this way? I am in this season right now.

And trust me. I've tried to break away and figure things out on my own. But I keep coming back to this God thing, this Jesus thing, and I can't tell you why. I don't know why.

All I'm really sure of is that GOD DOESN'T MAKE SENSE. I don't think He's supposed to.

And that intrigues me. Because humans by nature want to make sense of things. Of everything. And maybe some can argue that the concept of God is another way of making sense of things.

But what if in fact He is real, and there is eternal life after we leave this earth? What if we truly were designed to live forever? Maybe that's why it hurts so much to say goodbye to people. Because it wasn't meant to be that way.

I don't know. I just read over these past couple of paragraphs and I sound like I'm crazy.

But it's whatever.

All I'm saying is that this is one hell of a book.

You should read it.

Love,
G Love

Superdad.

Dearest L,

I debated whether or not to write another blog from my end because I didn't want to take your turn, but today is Father's Day and I just thought it fitting to share something from today that involved my Pops.

Last night, someone smashed the side view mirror on our van that was parked along the curb in front of the house. It was probably late, the driver was probably driving fast, and didn't even notice he or she hit it. At least, that's the way my dad explained it to me. My first instinct was to assume that the driver was speeding and that the driver did know that he or she hit it and didn't have the common courtesy to leave a note. When I expressed these thoughts, my dad simply said, "Well, I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. That's how you say it, right?"

My dad spent part of the afternoon sweeping all the glass from the mirror that had shattered on the street. I stood on the curb keeping him company as he meticulously swept every visible piece of glass on the pavement. Didn't make a big deal about it. All he said about the matter was, "Just in case the kids walk along the street."

I admire my Pops. A lot. I hope that the man I marry, if I marry, has the same humility and peace that my dad has. Not so sure about his humor, though. Depends on the guy. HAHA.

Talk to you soon!

Love,
G Love

"A story untold is a story ignored..."

Dear L,

For the past two weeks, we've had relatives from my dad's side visiting at our house. I've gained weight from eating Filipino feasts every night. I've lost sleep from staying up all night with my cousins. I've had to share a bedroom and bathroom with my parents. One could say it's been a "rough" two weeks, but honestly, I have loved every second of it.

Being around my family made me realize that people are books. I guess that's not an original idea, but this idea came to life as my dad and his cousin looked through old pictures and shared stories with the rest of us. I have always been curious about my parents' lives and my relatives' lives before they came to the States - what it was like to grow up in a close-knit community in the Philippines half a century ago- and I've only ever heard bits and pieces. Many of those bits and pieces, however, came together late one night last week when we were all just hanging out in our living room.

Stories. A story of my uncle stealing a neighbor's chicken at night and using it to cook Arroz Caldo (a Filipino dish). A story of my dad getting hit by a taxi and his older brother getting his friends to beat up the guy driving the taxi. A story of my mom shaking her booty at the disco so my dad would notice. A story of my dad and his cousins playing basketball late at night in the rain.

My dad. My mom. My aunts, uncles, cousins. You. Me.

Books.

My dad has often said that it would have been nice to have a video camera when he was younger so we could have images of the stories he shares with us. Part of me a wishes that, but a bigger part of me doesn't. Home videos and pictures are wonderful, don't get me wrong (I LOVE MY FLIP) but they serve their purpose. The stories that are shared by word of mouth can be just as vivid, if not more, because one is able to hear humanness and honesty in the sound of the words.

It's important to ask our parents to share their stories. It's important for us to share our stories with others. And it's important for us to realize that our moments, good and bad, are our stories and to never take them for granted. Who is to say when our books will end? All we can really do is to live with open ears, open eyes, open arms, and an open heart.

In one word - love.

Everything you said in your last post :]

You're beautiful, inside and out.

Love,
G Love

Falling slowly, eyes that know me, and I can't go back.

I'm sitting in my room drinking peppermint tea listening to Joshua Radin on Pandora. It's pouring outside. The sky is dark grey, and the rain hasn't stopped since 9 this morning. The rain is cooping me up inside my house. I am inside my room and inside my covers and inside my skin, really. If that makes sense--all I've been doing today is thinking. And usually when I spend a whole day thinking, it's not very productive, lol. But today I didn't care much for being productive. I even watched like 6 episodes of The Office on Netflix, tehehe.

But seriously. I read your blog again today and it really hit me hard. Like, in a good way. Your friend's story is amazing. Marriage has been on my mind so much lately. I've been having dreams about weddings and dresses and being married and my sister wants to lend me a book about commitment and then you post a blog about your friend's wedding. It's strange that I am thinking about it, really. I'm only 18.

I think it's so incredibly cool that people marry their best friends. Someone you can tell anything to. Someone you can pray with and share your worries, your fears. You can cry in front of them and laugh about it after. You can go on adventures together, even if it's to the grocery store or the park. You can lay next to each other on a tennis court and watch the sunset. You can go for walks every night and you always have a hand to hold.

Marriage is kind of like having a sleepover...every night. You can curl up and watch movies at night. You can fall asleep next to them in your sweatpants with your hair in a bun, no makeup. It is someone to do the dishes with. Someone you can have a pillow fight with. Someone who will always be there to open the freaking pickle jar. Someone who will stroke your hair and tell you that things are going to be okay. Someone who knows you sometimes better than you know yourself. Someone who loves you sometimes more than you love yourself. It's the closest you can get to feeling God's love through a person.

And I catch myself searching for what love is. How do I know if it's really love? How do I know if it's real. I keep putting one foot back on the ground. Never fully allowing myself to love. But honestly I don't think there's any trick behind it.

Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

I think I know. Love is self explanatory, really. When it's there, you will know it. Because God's love wraps you up. And when He puts it in someone else to love you, you know it. And when He puts it in YOU to love someone else, you will know it.
And it's okay to have doubts. Because God will keep things sewn together. He won't let anything rip apart if it's right.

Sigh. :)

Just a few thoughts from New Jersey to Maryland. From a Hannah to a Hannah.

Love,
L

You may come in June, you may never come at all, but I'll keep singing this song, righting my wrongs, keep walking along...

June Fifth. One of the most epic days in history. Well, in my history, at least :]

I started my day off early. The time-I-usually-go-to-bed type of early. But, I didn't mind at all because that day was the day my beautiful friend, Jen, was finally getting married! Don't get me wrong, I enjoy weddings and I have been so happy to attend my relatives' weddings. They're always so much fun and I'm so happy for my family members when they get married. But, for some reason, Jen and Dave's story sticks out to me. It is one of incredible patience, faithfulness, and hope. I don't think words are enough to describe the struggle, the pain, and the joy of this story.



I met Jen when I was in high school. She just started working for the church and immediately I was drawn to her. She was this beautiful young woman, in her mid-20s at the time, who loved God, loved people, and loved music. I consider her one of my "mentors" in this life, someone I look up to, and who I have been able to share my struggles with. Jen was always so patient with me and was always willing to listen, no matter how major or trivial my problems were (I know a lot of other young women would say the same about her). She's kind, humble, but most of all, real. She shared with me and other girls about her struggles in being single and her desires to be married. I am only 20, and already, my desires to get married grow stronger and stronger each day. Hormones? Maybe. But even though Jen longed to get married, she waited.



But she didn't just wait. She prayed. Hard. She used the time to invest in others, like myself. I know it was difficult for her heart, but she continued to love and love well, free from bitterness. Everyone else, we didn't understand - here was this beautiful woman who knew Love, but where was the man, the best friend whom she longed to spend the rest of her life with?



After many years, their paths finally crossed. Dave was a match for her. We all saw it. Like her, he loved God, loved people, and loved music. Humble, kind, faithful. They had to overcome many obstacles, but it finally happened and their paths merged. I was ECSTATIC (that's an understatement) and honored to witness their marriage yesterday. The bridesmaids walked down the aisle to a song that Jen wrote before she met Dave:

I've been on this road for a while
Waiting for a glimpse of your smile
Coming around the bend
What a sight for sore eyes to win

Until that day, I'll keep singing this song
I'll open my arms, keep righting my wrongs
You may come in June, you may never come at all
I'll keep singing this song, keep righting my wrongs, keep walking along

Walking alone is hard to do
God's love and grace will get me through
And if He chooses to
I'd really like to walk next to you.

Then, Jen walked down the aisle to a song that Dave wrote for her when he proposed. Talk about snot! I had a lot because I was crying so much, and I don't usually cry. They have impacted others and changed the world individually and now they get to do it together. That is truly awesome.

That was something else special about this wedding. SO many people - family and friends - worked together to make this wedding happen. I really took notice of the couples who were already married who helped out. Matt and Kim were the wedding photographers. Mark and Rose spoke at and coordinated the ceremony. Man. Marriage. It can be a beautiful thing. Marrying your best friend. Sharing in this life together. Impacting people. Loving. I can wait, but at the same time, I can't. Maybe a better word is "will." I will wait.

Lucky for me, the day didn't end there. My friends and I headed to Clear for Takeoff's CD Release party at Recher Theatre. Our good friend Mike is the bassist in the band. We joked about showing up in our wedding attire, but we ended up changing in a garage parking lot instead. I've never done that before. It was.. liberating? I mean. I don't plan on doing it often. But yeah. HAHA.





Clear for Takeoff is definitely a band worth checking out. I heard some of their stuff before last night and I really liked it. However, I was extremely impressed when I heard/saw them live. It's really disappointing when bands or musicians don't play as well live, but these guys are the complete package. Very likable onstage, open, not arrogant at all. The band was very tight and the harmonies were spot on. They have two lead singers in the band, each of whom write the songs. I really liked that.



CLEAR FOR TAKEOFF MYSPACE


Overall, an enjoyable night minus some dude who was hitting on me during the show... UGH. Geeze. I never know what to do in those kinds of situations. I mean, they don't happen often, but when they do, they are always extremely awkward and weird. Luckily, I had some of my guy friends willing to help me out to keep him at bay. Seriously though. Don't touch me if you don't know me. Don't brag about writing music with the band that's currently playing. Don't keep looking at me while I'm trying to enjoy the music. Not. Cool.

ANYWHO, your blog about the city... I can really relate to hating/loving the place. Crowds of people, smelly streets, no place to breathe BUT at the same time crowds of souls, busy streets, infinite places to explore... It's true, who knows what is to come, but I could TOTALLY see you living in the city. At least for a little while. If you do, can I sleep on your couch?? :]

Your pictures with Stephen... SO. awesome. Hehe. Aww, I miss you guys. A lot! I was surprised - he actually smiled for that one! HAHA.

Well, my relatives are over for the next two weeks and I'm uber excited. Cousins are always so much fun. Especially ones you haven't met before.

I'm trying to convince my parents to buy me a unicycle... it is ADDICTING. I can get on it and fall off of it with ease! Now, I just have to learn to ride it without having slip out from under me.

Well, I'll talk to you soon Larson! I miss you and making music with you <3

Love,
G Love

P.S. That lyric was from a song called "Good Question" written by this awesome artist named Tommy Butler. You should definitely check him out :]

I want to wake up in the city that never sleeps.

A part of me hates the city. It's too big, too polluted. There is trash everywhere and too many people who are too absorbed in their own personal agendas. The drivers are rude. The pavement makes it ten times hotter in the summer. My feet throb after walking blocks and blocks. The city is a maze to me, and I lose my sense of direction so easily. The subway system doesn't make sense. People bump into me left and right. The buildings cover up the sky and the roads cover up the grass. Everyone is go go go and work work work and buy buy buy. The madness never stops.



Another part of me loves it. Everyone is unique. People seem to walk tall regardless of the skyscrapers that tower over them. I am still small in this city, but slowly I feel like I am becoming a part of something big. I never know who I am sitting next to on the train, and you never know who you might meet. The sunset peaks through the buildings and it is absolutely beautiful. The buildings cast shadows and reflect sunlight onto the streets. And when the sun goes down, the city lights keep everyone's faces glowing.



There are endless opportunities and thousands of connections. And something about the streets keep me walking. I don't want to stop. I liked this feeling. And I spent the day with Stephen, which made the day even better.



I don't know. I WANT TO LIVE IN THE CITY HANNAH! Hahaha. I just don't know if I should live somewhere that I hate as much as I love. I just feel like there are so many opportunities that I am missing out on by living in Fair Lawn, New Jersey. I just want to try it to see what it's like.

So who knows what the future holds. :)

In the meantime, has it really only been three weeks? Do we SERIOUSLY have three months left??? Blah. I need structure in my life. I've been watching too many marathons of America's Next Top Model. I think I'm going to start waking up early to do pilates or something. Or maybe enlist myself in military summer school. Maybe not that extreme...I just need to survive until the end of June. What have you been up to outside of hanging out with the kiddies?! I LOVE your blogs and how we do kind of the same things. The kids sound and look adorable. I think it's so cool that you wrote a song with them. The sweet thing. The title sounds like it could be a real song. I hope you are writing lots of stuff. And MAN did I love the lyrics you put on here about the fool shedding a different light. Who wrote that?

That's all for now. Love you Hanner. And I MISS YOU! Have fun riding that unicycle...that is the coolest thing ever.

Hannah L

The Sweet Thing.

Dear L,

I really must apologize because we keep blogging about the same things... I mean, the experiences might be similar but the thoughts about them are different. I kind of like that. I hope you don't mind. If you do, you can kick my right shin the next time you see me... I may or may not cry.

Last night, I slept over at my friends' house. Lauren and Amelia are probably my favorite elementary/middle schoolers in the world. I know what you mean when you say you can learn a lot from kids. An evening with them was a breath of fresh air into my lazy summer life.

I had dinner with their mom, who is a dear friend of mine, and we had a very sweet time together. After that, we went to the mall with the girls and walked around. Now, I'm not really one for shopping or even hanging out at the mall. The longest I can stay in the mall without getting antsy is probably 15 minutes, maybe 25 minutes if I eat at the food court. But, that changes when you're with two girls who want to look at all the poofy, glittery dresses and run around Bath & Body Works spraying and sniffing everything they can get their hands on. I don't think I've ever had that much fun at the mall - and I didn't even buy anything! Seriously, who needs money...

While we were at the mall, we also got to visit the pet store and play with puppies! This pet store is awesome because you can sign up to play with the puppies who are waiting to be taken home. We played with probably about 5 puppies, most of whom were jumpy and nippy and would not stop biting my shoelaces. There was one puppy, though, a cock-a-poo, who was so docile and so fluffy... I was so tempted to call my mom and say, "I think I found Bella." (NOTE: My parents want to get a dog and we've already named her Bella... even though we haven't gotten the actual dog. Weird. I know.)

Lauren and her mom drove home together since they had to pick something up on the way, so Amelia rode with me. On our way back to the house, she said, "Let's write a song!" One of our favorite things to do when I babysit or hang out with the girls is to write songs. She took a pen and paper from my purse and started writing the lyrics:

The sweet thing now
The sweet thing now
You think you've got it down
The sweet thing now

Have a cookie
Have some ice cream
Have a doughnut
Have a sweet thing

Uninhibited. Completely. Anything and everything is possible.

When we got home, she, Lauren, and I worked on adding some music. They added a "rap break" where Lauren freestyled about sweets, a "dance time," and chose to end the song with some ballet. After practicing a couple of times, we filmed it and then they had to get ready for bed.

Before bedtime, Amelia showed me her awesome Silly Bands (what a crazy fad... I love it, haha) and then Lauren asked me to braid her hair. So, we're sitting on her bed, I'm french braiding her beautiful, long brown hair and she proceeds to tell me about 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and how she started to read it and loved it. "I love detail," she said and I could not help but be amazed at her ability to eloquently describe the book. I wondered, "How in the world did I get through AP Literature?" I started to read 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and threw it across the room because I got frustrated reading it. Man.

Later that night when the girls were in bed, their mom and I had another sweet late night talk. Those are my favorite. At one point, she said something that made me take flight on the inside. She said, "I don't know what it is, but my girls just let loose when they're around you. They do things with you that they never imagine doing..."

That. That right there is IT. And I know I can say the same, even more, about them.

So, yes, I know what you mean when you say we can learn a lot from kids :]

I loved your latest blog. I think I've loved all of them and I will love the ones to come. Just to warn you. Addie seems like such an awesome 10 year old (your pictures are ADORBS...)! And I know it'll take time, this whole "fooling people" bit, but I believe you'll be able to move past that and just be. Be. I can say that because I am at that same place... I feel like I am JUST learning to open up, to not "fool" people, but willing to be a "fool" in a sense. The "wear your heart on your sleeve" thing. I've been listening a lot to a song in which the lyrics go, "The fool will find he may not be a fool in a different life, if you shed a different light..." Hmm. Something to think about :]

I. LOVE. YOUR. GLASSES. You look so cute! I say that in the most platonic way possible.

I feel like my blogs are getting longer and longer. Oh well. I guess I just feel like I've got something to say... HA! Man. Okay, I'll stop now.

Can't wait to hear from you!
Love,
G Love

P.S. One of my friends is going to teach me how to ride a unicycle! GAHH! I'm so excited.

I've been losing lots of keys lately, I don't know what that means, but maybe I'll be better off if things can't be locked at all.

So because I spend an enormous amount of my time hanging out with kids, I have a feeling that my blogs are always going to relate back to them. I think they have a lot to teach me.

Yesterday I babysat little Addie who is 10. When I got there she didn't want to have her piano lesson. I could hear her fussing to her mom upstairs about how much she didn't want her teacher to come today. Her mom told her to stick it out, and left shortly after. So the teacher gets to the house and Addie is in the middle of eating her hot dog. She told me earlier that she was really hungry, so hot dogs as an afternoon snack seemed like a perfect idea. But she couldn't finish eating because it was time for her lesson. So she plays the Hokie Pokie song that she had been working on all week. It sounded wonderful and I could tell that she practices hard. The teacher spends 30 minutes on repertoire. Usually her lessons are only a half hour, but today it was a full hour. I could sense that Addie was getting frustrated, and her teacher began to drill her with theory questions.

"How many beats is a half note?" He asks.

"3. I mean 2." Addie would answer glumly, trying her best to keep a smile on.

She put on this show for her teacher because she didn't want him to see how she really felt. She was annoyed, hungry, and frustrated. But instead of expressing it, she smiled and put on a good face.

When the teacher left, she threw her cold hot dog and burst into tears. She crawled under the table and screamed "I HATE PIANO. I HATE THIS AND I HATE MY TEACHER." She couldn't keep it in anymore. She put a pillow over her face and cried.

Kids can't pretend that things are okay when they aren't. Atleast not for very long. But I pretend all the time. I put on a good face and keep it all in. I don't even need to burst into tears anymore because I'm so used to suppressing it all. How did I get to this point? I want to be able to say exactly what I feel. Not only that, but I want to be able to feel it and show it. There is something to say about wearing your heart on your sleeve...and I've never been able to do it.

Sometimes, well MOST of the time, Stephen will be able to look in my eyes and know exactly how I feel. How in the world can he tell? I thought I was good at hiding it. I guess some people you just can't fool. And honestly Hannah, I'm tired of fooling people.

I think, I KNOW why I write songs and why I feel the need to. It's the best way to articulate feelings. It's the best way to express it without being too vulnerable.

Anyway, that's all for now G Love. My favorite part of your blog was this:

"At one point, I was clinging to this boulder. It was the funniest thing. My legs were too short to reach one of the rocks, so I had to readjust. It's amazing how an obstacle is no longer an obstacle when you change your position, your attitude."

I'm so glad you climbed that mountain! Get it girl! You reached the top, and that's amazing. So why are you afraid of what you want?

Can't wait to hear from you.

Love,
L

PS. I got new glasses. hehe.

I'm running to the edge of my life.

Dear L,

I LOVED your last post. A lot. So much that I went and climbed a mountain today :]

My friends and I took a trip to Sugarloaf Mountain. I've lived here 20 years and I've never stepped foot on it. But today, that changed.

We took a nice drive through the countryside with the windows rolled down and the music blaring. When we got there, we drove up a little ways, parked, and set out on our adventure. Let me tell you, I realized a lot of things today. And one of them was that I am out of shape... hahaha.

We hiked up the Green Trail to the highest point of the mountain with a couple of backpacks and a guitar. I haven't felt that alive in a long time. The sun was beating down on us, my blood was pumping through all my veins, I was breathing in the fresh mountain air. We got to the very top and hung out there for a while. Played a little bit of guitar and just took in the view. Trees. Land. For miles. We even shared our fears. Just said them out loud. To each other. To the mountain and the things beyond it. Man.

At one point, Courtney and Mike ventured out to some rocks nearby. After a few minutes, they called us over and said, "You might want to bring your camera."

Now, when people ask me if I'm afraid of heights, I usually answer, "No," but I think now that I'm lying. Because I was scared to climb the rocks, to sit on the edge of the cliff. All the terrible scenarios of slipping and falling just flooded my brain. But Brooke said, "Come on. You can do it." Courtney helped point out which rocks I could step on. At one point, I was clinging to this boulder. It was the funniest thing. My legs were too short to reach one of the rocks, so I had to readjust. It's amazing how an obstacle is no longer an obstacle when you change your position, your attitude. I finally made it and the view was breathtaking. It was some good times with good people.

After our adventure, I dropped off my friends and took the long way home. The one question that kept racing through my brain was, "What am I afraid of?" and the answers that kept racing through my brain were, "I'm afraid to want. I'm afraid of what I want."

And that's where I'm left. Where I'm lost. But I think it's a good place to be lost, don't you think?

You said in your last post that you hate dwelling. You climbing that mountain, proving yourself wrong, seems like a good step away from dwelling :]

Things are happening, Hannah. In us and all around us. Can you see it? I'm so glad we get to share this with each other.

Can't wait to hear your next adventure. How's sitting on babies going?

Sincerely,
G Love

P.S. I was sitting in the kitchen writing this blog when my dad just comes up to me and says randomly, "You and the right guy will meet at the right place at the right time." What?! Where did that come from? I wish I could tell you. Haha. OH FATHER...

What matters.

Dear G Love,

Sunday afternoon I went for a hike with my brother and friend Michele.

I was so nervous. I make an egg sandwich for energy before we go. My brother and I drive up to the mountains in New Jersey. They are absolutely beautiful and huge looking up from the highway. We park in a lot next to a baseball field and make our way to the trail with Michele and her dog, Toby. Within ten minutes I am completely out of breath, and my heart is racing. It scares me when my heart races like that because I just want my heart to get better. The incline is incredible. It's almost like rock climbing. There is no way I'm going to make it. We stop for a break and I ask my brother how close we are. He says, "Oh, about 1/5 of the way." You've got to be kidding me. I keep saying in my head that I can't make it. I'm too tired. My legs feel like Jello. My heart is too weak for this. My head is pulsing. We stop for another break and I can't even see the sky. Just rocks and boulders and trees above me laughing at me and waiting for me to try and conquer them. But I can't. I keep going regardless. I am last out of the three of us.

Soon enough, we reach the very top. And it was beautiful and ridiculously high.
So I can do it afterall.

Why do I discourage myself so much? Why is there always a little voice in my head telling me I can't do it? "I won't be successful." "I won't reach my dream goal." "My gifts are no good." "I'm not really that special." "None of it matters anyway."

It all matters, Hannah. You Hannah and me Hannah.

Yes, the world is vast and there are billions of people. Yes, it seems like we are small and that our miniscule lives don't hold a candle to the rest of the world's problems. Yes, it seems like we can't do it. Yes, it seems like everyone is out to get us. But we do matter, not just inside of our house inside of a town inside of a circle of people. We matter in the big picture.

I'm not sure how this relates to hiking. It's just on my mind today. It's on my mind a lot. I just wish I could reach a point where I felt encouraged all the time. That's when I could get everything done. Instead I dwell. And I hate dwelling.

Your post was beautiful. I think that love like that is incredibly hard to find. I'm learning so much about love this year. It always seems impossible to come by. And when you do have it, you won't realize it fully until it leaves you..physically speaking. I know that even though they moved away, the love is still there and will always be there in your hearts. God is looking out for you. He's got a lot of love to give and a lot of people to help give it too. If we just let them in.

Love,
L

It was never meant to be this way.

This morning, I had to say goodbye to some dear friends who are moving away. When I heard about it a couple of months ago, I was okay. I had peace about it. On Friday night when I hung out with them, I was okay. I had peace. Last night at their going away party, I was okay. I had peace.

But this morning, I had peace, but I was not okay.

I cried and I don't cry often (at least I don't think so!) but it wasn't really because they're moving away. Don't get me wrong, it is going to suck when I can't just call them up on the phone and say, "Hey! Can I come crash at your house?" or "Hey! Do you need a babysitter?" or "Hey! Can you teach me how to cook?" I mean, actually, I can. I'd just have to get on a plane and fly to Colorado...

Anywho, I cried because this morning, I realized that I know love. I've brushed arms with it, I've cried with it (the rare times that I cry...), I've been driven by it to take action for everything that I see is wrong in this world. I would not be able to count the number of people and the number of ways that this family has loved and loved well. I cried for the people this family has yet to meet in Colorado because they will be impacted and challenged by this family in ways they could have never imagined.

And I cried because I believe it was never meant to be this way. We weren't meant to say goodbye. We weren't meant to experience pain.

And yet, we are still able to experience beauty in the midst of all of it.

831.

Larson,
I loved your post... Truth. We should take more cues for life from kids. They've got this life thing down.

Sincerely,
G Love

She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb in the shape of an L on her forehead...

Today I watched Shrek the movie with a 10 year old.

Not only was I reminded how cool the band SmashMouth used to be, but also how hilarious Eddy Murphy is. Karen and I did so many fun things today, and I can't even believe that I get paid for this. I picked her up from school and we did the slow motion run to each other because it's been a year since we saw each other. We played LIFE the board game, went for a bike ride, did some math problems, ordered pizza, fingerpainted (the paint ended up everywhere but on the paper), went out for ice cream and wrote a story about puppies. Kids are so cool. Karen doesnt worry about the future. She doesn't care about what she's going to be in a year or in ten years. She wears whatever clothes she feels like wearing and she doesn't even think about brushing her hair. The only plans she has are to play with her puppy, and floss after dinner. She only cares about today.

Seriously, we can plan all we want. And I know it's important and completely normal to make plans and prepare for the future. But isn't today the only thing in front of us? I am never at peace. And people tell you and the cheesy quotes tell you to live for today and live in the moment. Even the Bible tells you. So why can't we just do it? Just for a second trust that God has it? He's got it. And He's always telling us that He has it all under control. It's okay to take a day at a time. It's more than okay--it certainly is less stressful. Just for a second?

So today I did that. And it felt good.

Love you.

-L <3

challenge.

LARSON!

I challenge you to:

- Visit a nursing home and perform your songs. Afterwards, hang out with the residents and see what stories you come across :]

- Go to a public place (maybe that park you were at yesterday!) and strike up a conversation with a (safe-looking!) stranger. The conversation doesn't have to be long or interesting. Just a conversation.

- Write me a song about ice cream.

Good luck! You don't have to do these all in one day... I wouldn't expect you to, haha. How are we going to figure out deadlines for these challenges? Let me know. I can't wait to hear about all your adventures!

Sincerely,

G Love

the beginning.

Motivation.

This blog was born from a lack of it. We've been home from school for less than a week and already we can feel the laziness of summer weighing us down. We decided to fight it, via this blog.

This is a multi-purpose blog:

- To keep in touch with each other.

- To kick each other's butts to write music.

- To challenge each other to take risks.

- To share our thoughts with whoever is willing to listen.

So, here it goes.

Sincerely,

Larson & G Love (the hannahs)