understanding the WHY questions

As I get older God seems to be more alive than He was when I was younger. There are more chaotic things that I am involved in but they only make my faith stronger. I wonder and ask why my mom had to have cancer and pass away. Then I presume to ask why it had to happen to me. Those questions then come to questions like why did I end up at Calvin College with the people I am with on a daily basis. Why I lost one of my closest friends due to some piled up fights and bad situations. When chaotic questions fill my mind and I am lost at words, God shows me why. I have lost a lot in my life, or so it seems, but I have been a blessing to a lot of lives. I do not want to sound conceited but it's true. My friend recently found some horrible news about her mom and sadly its close to the same story of my mom. I have a gift. I have the gift to give my friend empathy instead of sympathy. I have a gift to understand the pain that not only hurts you emotionally but stabs your heart. I have the chance to be strong for someone who is finding it hard to be strong. I understand what my purpose is at Calvin for the time being. I understand why I lost a friend. God doesn't put screwed up situations in your life just to mess you up on this journey but to make you stronger....sin corrupts but God uses this corruption for good. He creates good. He produces good. He created love. He installs love in us. I am becoming a passionate person. I am learning how to love everyone. I am growing up. Growing out of the silly girl but into this person that God created me to be.

weekend from hell

Week from hell.

45 minutes away from brother's house and I am sitting in the driver's sit of 1988 buick. I see the toll both ahead and come to stop right behind another crappy car. As the car moves on their journey I press on the gas only to find that the car stalled. Ok ok I can do this just turn the car back on and everything will be fine. I reach for the keys as I am telling my friends that the car isn't moving. It turns on! So I press the gas...useless. The car will not go into gear. I am ten feet away from the toll booth when I lady pulls up right beside me and says "You know there is only one lane here." I look at her with a smirk and tell her, well lady my car isn't working. As we struggle in deciding what to do the owner of the car, Amanda, takes wheel, thinking that she can do something about it. Of course nothing works. With our struggling faces on, a man that works in the booth comes over and starts to push us to the shoulder. First of the man has the most crazy ways of telling Amanda which way to go. His hands are flying and everywhere and in the chaos amanda backs into the concrete wall. The guy comes over to our window and with chaos and all he begins to tell us to get out and go inside the little tollbooth building. We get in and he tells us he called a toe truck but the cost will be 150 dollars plus 3 dollars a mile. I cannot begin to describe what was going in my head. My brother had to wake up at 4:30am for work and it was 11:30 at night. so I called him and gave him the news. After that a patrol officer came in saying we had 2 hours to get the car off the road while the toe truck driver tells us to call someone else who is cheaper. Meanwhile we have no idea what is actually wrong with the car and no one will help us get the hood up. The useless help leave to leave us with the problem and as they do I look behind me to see a flyer on the wall...WANTED HOMICIDE. Wow in the middle of nowhere and there is a killer on the loose. Amanda and my friend Christine go back to the car to pop the hood...the car oil is dry as a bone. Finally my brother comes to get us and we decide that we are going to push the car through the toll and to the parking lot. But before we do the toll booth guy tells us that we have to pay the toll as well. Alright so we get change out and try to push....the car is stuck in a little trench. Great well then we called a toe truck for 80 dollars. We get home at 4 in the morning. I wake up an hour later to drop of Christine at the train station since her other train leaves at 7 in chicago....

The next day Amanda, Daniela, and I try to figure out how the heck we are going to get home when I find our that my friend's mom is in the hospital with something very serious. We figured out our plans and also decide to take a train into chicago the next day for a day of shopping. We get a ride to the station and realize we forgot to get tickets online....luckily we can buy them on the train. We to chicago...next thing to do is to buy tickets for the way back...of course the ticket booth is closed for 15 minutes. Everything is great but oh did I mention that Daniela left her wallet in Christine's purse but christine is in Missouri. The day is almost over and we decide to walk back to the train station because none of us have any cash left. We are 15 minutes late to the train. The next one leaves in a half hour.....We finally get on and get to our stop. As we come to the door the door shuts and the train moves on to the next station.......

My brother picks us up in another city.....

Although the week was certainly from hell and every day was filled with a bit of excitement, I learned some good lessons.

1. never drive a car that is older than you on a three hour drive

2. be 15 minutes early to any public transportation

3. when the conductor says your stop is approaching get up and go to the door

4. when the weather channel says its 14 degrees but feels like -1, they are telling the truth

5. family is amazing

6. once your in college, you are bad luck

7. praying is the best thing to do

Don't Mold me Media

Looking through the magazines I see pictures of the famous in their famous clothes. On top of the picture the words That's Hot, Not, or Hot labels them. My fingers trace the font and I cannot understand who as they right to decide what I wear. Why do the magazines try to shape us into what they want so they can keep on making money? I am in aw. Who I'm i dressing for?Either I am impressing someone or I am making myself feel better by the clothes I wear. I'm not a doll to dress up for anyone. I like my clothes and my "style". I don't dress for anybody but I do keep my style "under control" for God. I started to move from The People magazine to the tattoo magazine. My eyes shifted from page to page. Some of the colors were incredible and breath taking while others made it possible for me to just look for half a second. People covered themselves with these pieces of art for what? I have no idea and a part of me doesn't really care. But then I see a girl posing and showing off her sleeve tattoo, the classic joker from Batman. I laugh. I really just laugh because why in the world would you want to put that on your beautiful skin when its beautiful already? A lot of people know that I want a tattoo. My reasons are good I think. It's not out of rebellion or out of my way to show myself off but because I want to. I want to show off God. My tattoo is going to be on the side of my abdomen. The words...Unconditional Love...written in cursive or maybe in my mom's handwriting. I have had this idea in my head since Sophomore year of high school. I'm not going impress anyone. I'm not going post it all over my facebook when I get it. I am not going to take pictures of it and then post it on facebook. The words are natural and are already imprinted in me, it's just that you cannot visually see it. I am unconditionally loved by Abba, my God. The amazing thing is, so is everybody else. I want it to be a conversation starter. I want it to remind me that I need to be a christian on the outside too. I'm not going to be a poser in a magazine, letting other people dress me and then getting judged if I'm hot or not. I am me. I am Brenna. The tattoo is already there, you just can't see it yet. This is me. I will only let God mold me.

Leaving High School Behind...You're in College

Here I am finally sitting down to write again. It is January 11 and I do not understand how this time has gone by so fast. I feel like I was just sitting in my room thanking the Lord for Christmas break. Some know what happened during my break and others don't. I seem to face the imaginable when ever I start to change or I change my location. I'm trying my best now to react calmly about the situations at hand and try to handle them with God. Lately I have been finding a new me. Coming here, Calvin, has changed me. I am not the same at all. My art that I create has changed....some weird mature twist is added onto it. I come to calvin and I sit on the "weird" side of the dining hall because I am sick of being judged by people my age. I am now used to having friends that are older than me because we relate better. Now the so called freshman seem to irritate me. They were once perfect in High school and now they come here and party their brains out. I sit in my classes and actually enjoy the books they give us to read but I hear the freshman complain about it. Readers, I know I am a freshman too...don't get me wrong. I am tired of girl fights and boys who take complete advantage of my friends. I'm tired of walking on egg shells around people I do not click very well with. I'm sick of people not being open minded to the other's culture. I'm tired of shit-faced kids not taking advantage of the school they are attending. To be honest sometimes I feel like my friends think I am that immature person. I am just like the rest. I hate that. I hate the all the pretty faces, the ones who say that this year they will not drink any soda for their new years resolution. Why can't it be about prayer, or being nicer, or opening up, or supporting a starving kid for once, or giving your all. This blog is most likely an angry one but I'm tired of this world. We say we are all christians at this school called Calvin but when I sit on the "cool" side of the dining hall I feel everyone's eyes on me and my friends. I feel judged. When I sit on the "weird" side I see people who don't care. Some I can tell are christians and others have just lived life....they were their plaid and band T-shirts without a care of what the pretty people think. I'm not a pretty person. I do not spend hours on my hair. Making sure that I apply my "face" each morning. I do not pretend to be nice. I do not act like I am better than you. I have my bad habits I have my pit falls. But you're in college now, it's time to grow up. High School is called High School and college is called college for a reason. I'm done playing games.