I Don't Want to be Done

I Don't Want to be Done

I want to get married, and have kids, and have a great job, and....
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When we lose people in our community at a young age, we are so quick to say, "They had so much life ahead of them." Which is true- it's hard to watch a girl die before she's able to experience falling in love. It's hard to watch a five-year-old boy pass before he can go to school, play on a sports team, and graduate high school with honors.

I'm so excited about my future: getting a job, getting married, buying a house, having kids. Everything about growing up and growing old with someone excites me. I literally pray every day about my future because I know it's going to be so, so good.

The other day, I was with some friends who mentioned how excited they were about the thought of Heaven. They laughed, saying things like "Take me now!" They were so, so sure of how good Heaven is.They were so confident that Heaven was so much better than anything on this earth could be.

And you know what? I'm not. I'm not so sure that I would leave for Heaven at the drop of a hat. I'm not ready to give up the opportunity to see what my future holds. I want all the things that my future could bring me so, so badly, and I don't honestly believe that Heaven is better.

Wow.

I've re-read that paragraph about five times.

How stupid of me. I'm fully aware how perfect and wonderful Heaven is. Actually, it's better than that. It's better than my wildest dreams. It's indescribably perfect and sweet and fun and exciting. It's better than the most perfect of marriages, the prettiest of houses, and the cutest of kids. It's better than anything I could imagine.

It's not bad that I want the things that my future could bring. Marriage is such a beautiful thing that can honor the Lord so well. Having a family and raising my children to know and love the Lord isn't a bad thing at all. It's not that I want things that the Lord wouldn't want for me, but I am putting so much more value on the "good" things of this world than on Heaven: perfect, indescribably wonderful Heaven.

You know what? The thought of spending every day of the rest of your life with a man who is completely and utterly in love with you and the Lord sounds phenomenal. So why doesn't spending every day of the rest of your life with the Lord, who created you and knows the number of hairs on your head and loves you more than anything, sound even more incredible?

Why do I doubt? Why do I worry about "missing out?" The Lord doesn't plan on making me "miss out" on anything good. His plan for me is the best possible plan for my life.

So while I don't want my time on this earth to end any time soon, I know that Heaven is greater than anything this world has to offer. I know that the Lord's plan for me is so sweet, and I know that I'm never going to be "missing out" on anything. And while my heart races at the thought of falling in love, getting a great job, and living a sweet little life with a sweet little family, I know that Heaven is more wonderful thrilling, and perfect than any marriage or cute kid could be. And that, my friends, is something to be excited about.

Cover Image Credit: http://picmia.com/img/1750682.jpg

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I Blame My Dad For My High Expectations

Dad, it's all your fault.
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I always tell my dad that no matter who I date, he's always my number one guy. Sometimes I say it as more of a routine thing. However, the meaning behind it is all too real. For as long as I can remember my dad has been my one true love, and it's going to be hard to find someone who can top him.

My dad loves me when I am difficult. He knows how to keep the perfect distance on the days when I'm in a mood, how to hold me on the days that are tough, and how to stand by me on the days that are good.

He listens to me rant for hours over people, my days at school, or the episode of 'Grey's Anatomy' I watched that night and never once loses interest.

He picks on me about my hair, outfit, shoes, and everything else after spending hours to get ready only to end by telling me, “You look good." And I know he means it.

He holds the door for me, carries my bags for me, and always buys my food. He goes out of his way to make me smile when he sees that I'm upset. He calls me randomly during the day to see how I'm doing and how my day is going and drops everything to answer the phone when I call.

When it comes to other people, my dad has a heart of gold. He will do anything for anyone, even his worst enemy. He will smile at strangers and compliment people he barely knows. He will strike up a conversation with anyone, even if it means going way out of his way, and he will always put himself last.

My dad also knows when to give tough love. He knows how to make me respect him without having to ask for it or enforce it. He knows how to make me want to be a better person just to make him proud. He has molded me into who I am today without ever pushing me too hard. He knew the exact times I needed to be reminded who I was.

Dad, you have my respect, trust, but most of all my heart. You have impacted my life most of all, and for that, I can never repay you. Without you, I wouldn't know what I to look for when I finally begin to search for who I want to spend the rest of my life with, but it might take some time to find someone who measures up to you.

To my future husband, I'm sorry. You have some huge shoes to fill, and most of all, I hope you can cook.

Cover Image Credit: Logan Photography

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Short Stories On Odyssey: Roses

What's worth more than red roses?

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Five years old and a bouquet of roses rested in her hands. The audience-- clapped away her performance, giving her a standing ovation. She's smiling then because everything made sense, her happiness as bright as the roses she held in her hands.

Fifteen now, and a pile of papers rested on her desk. The teachers all smiled when she walked down the aisle and gave them her presentation. She was content then but oh so stressed, but her parents happy she had an A as a grade, not red on her chest.

Eighteen now and a trail of tears followed her to the door. Partying, and doing some wild things, she just didn't know who she was. She's crying now, doesn't know anymore, slamming her fists into walls, pricking her fingers on roses' thorns.

Twenty-one and a bundle of bills were grasped in her hands. All the men-- clapped and roared as she sold her soul, to the pole, for a dance. She's frowning now because everything went wrong, but she has to stay strong, for rich green money, is worth more than red roses.

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