Diary- August 5, 2008 Third Entry
By veronica lynn | August 5, 2008
From its earliest airing on the radio, I have loved the following song.
But, since I heard it suggested on the radio that this song was written from the perspective of a song writer about maintaining artistic integrity, I have grown to appreciate it all the more.
The song has become a theme song for me, both in regards to my writing and my life.
Love Song
Sung by Sara Bareilles
Head under water
And you tell me to breathe easy for a while
breathing gets harder, even I know that
You made room for me but it’s too soon to see
If I’m happy in your hands I’m unusually hard to hold on to
Blank stares at blank pages
No easy way to say this
You mean well, but you make this hard on me
I’m not gonna write you a love song
’cause you asked for it
’cause you need one, you see
I’m not gonna write you a love song
’cause you tell me it’s
Make or breaking this
If you’re on your way
I’m not gonna write you to stay
If all you have is leaving I’m gonna need a better
Reason to write you a love song today
I learned the hard way
That they all say things you want to hear
And my heavy heart sinks deep down under you and
Your twisted words,
Your help just hurts
You are not what I thought you were
Hello to high and dry
Convinced me to please you
Made me think that I need this too
I’m trying to let you hear me as I am
I’m not gonna write you a love song
’cause you asked for it
’cause you need one, you see
I’m not gonna write you a love song
’cause you tell me it’s
Make or breaking this
If you’re on your way
I’m not gonna write you to stay
If all you have is leaving I’m gonna need a better
Reason to write you a love song today
Promise me that you’ll leave the light on
To help me see with daylight, my guide, gone
’cause I believe there’s a way you can love me
Because I say
I won’t write you a love song
’cause you asked for it
’cause you need one, you see
I’m not gonna write you a love song
’cause you tell me it’s make or breaking this
Is that why you wanted a love song
’cause you asked for it
’cause you need one, you see
I’m not gonna write you a love song
’cause you tell me it’s make or breaking this
If you’re on your way
I’m not gonna write you to stay
If your heart is nowhere in it
I don’t want it for a minute
Babe, I’ll walk the seven seas when I believe that
There’s a reason to
Write you a love song today
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Diary- August 5, 2008 Second Entry
By veronica lynn | August 5, 2008
Everything is fantastically falling into place.
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Diary- August 5, 2008
By veronica lynn | August 5, 2008
There is nothing better than a man who can make you laugh first thing in the morning.
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Country Camp Quilt
By veronica lynn | August 4, 2008
We were on the road by 6:30, not quite the 5 am departure time he had originally said.
But that is why I had told him to call and wake me up when he was actually leaving his house.
Unfortunately, I woke up every hour on the hour, anticipating that it was time for his call.
At 3:30, I finally gave up on trying to go back to sleep.
Clothes lay out and hair already in a French braid, it took me almost no time to get ready to go.
As I did some last minute re-organizing ( I had packed the afternoon before), I turned the television on and to the Country music channel and sung along to all the hit tunes: Julianne Hough’s “ That Song in my Head”, Sugarland’s “ All I Want to Do”, Delta Goodrem’s “ In this Life” and Trailer Choir’s “ Of the Hillbilly Hook.”
When my boyfriend arrived, I handed him my duffle so I could take the trash out with is.
Having never seen my neighborhood at twilight before, I paused a moment to take in the soothing, silent scene.
We got in my boyfriend’s truck and drove outside of the city limits before stopping at What-A-Burger for breakfast.
I was happy to see that across the street was a still in business Kettle’s restaurant.
When I was a little girl, my daddy would take me to Kettle’s for our monthly father daughter breakfast.
My two sisters and I each had our own restaurant and time alone with Dad.
For me, the moments I spent with my father were among the very best of my childhood memories.
The last traces of nighttime vanished along with our breakfast, which we had taken to go.
At the first sign of sunshine, my boyfriend took my hand, saying with a smile, “It’s our first sunrise.”
As neither of us are usually early morning people, the sunrise was likely also our last, for awhile, anyway.
For the first leg of the journey, my boyfriend had talk radio blaring from the speakers.
I was happy when he switched from that to a mixed CD, which included the song,
“Forever and Ever, Amen” by Randy Travis.
The chorus goes:
“Oh baby I’m gonna love you forever
Forever and ever amen
As long as old men sit & talk about the weather
As long as old women sit & talk about old men
If you wonder how long ill be faithful
I’ll be happy to tell you again
I’m gonna love you forever and ever
Forever and ever amen”
Two hours later we were in Columbus,
When the school campus closed during the summer, the property is used to hold summer camps for any and all church youth groups which wish to attend.
My own church was participating in the camp that week, so my boyfriend and I planned his and my visit accordingly.
Nostalgia not yet present, I forgot all about my earlier intention of taking my boyfriend on a tour of the town.
A quick glance as we drove by suggested that little had been added to the town in the six years I had been away, other than two new restaurants.
As a student, I had availed myself of just about all the town had to offer.
I frequented the Wal-mart (that did not stay open twenty four hours and, I believe, closed early on Sundays), a Dollar General store ( which my friends and I affectionately dubbed “ The Ghetto Wal-Mart”), the Denny’s restaurant, the HEB pantry store, the McDonalds ( the first place I went on every last day of midterms or finals), the Subway, the Sonic, the park with the pier ( which our teachers wanted us to pretend did not exist), the laundry mat, and the town library.
For all the above instances, I have seen better since then.
We finally arrived at the camp site, having reached the end of the twisting turning, finally paved road which leads there.
Going onto the property through the flag filled entrance; I felt more that I was returning to the scene of a reoccurring dream than that I was returning home.
I pointed out to my boyfriend the dorm which I had lived in from my first year all the way through to graduation, explaining that I was one of the few students assigned to the same rooms for both years of school.
Just as I had wanted, I walked with my boyfriend down “Eternity”- the appropriately named extra long sidewalk situated between the dormitories and the Blue Jean Café.
When I was a second year student, the Café served as both as mess hall and a classroom.
Our friends were still in the Café, finishing their breakfast of waffles and (what I remember as being) watered down orange juice.
My boyfriend and I had arrived in just enough time to participate in the morning chapel service.
The chapel, now called Ambassadors Hall, was in the earliest stages of construction, back when I was as student.
I remember walking with my classmates around the space, praying over it when there was still sawdust on the floor and spare piles of wood still on the ground.
I spent the majority of my hours at school in that building- participating planning meetings for retreats held every weekend, attending daily classes, and going to weekly church services.
The stage in Ambassadors’ Hall, very one on which I graduated has been transformed beyond recognition.
The set has been designed for a twenty-first century audience in mind and renovated for television.
While I recognized the amount of work which had been done, it was with some sadness that I noted the progress made.
The Ambassadors’ Hall that I knew and loved no longer exists, even if the building is still there.
A brand new generation of students has moved in and taken over, as they should.
I knew I should have taken more pictures of all “those moments” while I had the chance.
I did not repeat that mistake on this trip, but more about that in my next blog.
After the chapel service, it was time for sports’ competitions.
My church youth group had to win three volleyball and tug of war games during the course of the day to qualify for the championship game that would be held that night.
Every match was an elimination match.
During each game, our whole group, 125 strong, surrounded our team’s side of the volleyball net or tug-of-war pit to cheer our players on.
We had cheers for everything- for points made, for points needed, and for victories secured.
Being incredibly competitive myself, I revel in the intensity and camaraderie of sports.
If I could tumble as well as I can root and if I was a cute in choreography as I am in a short skirt, I could totally have been a cheerleader.
My team took the first place trophy in volleyball and successfully defended their tug-of-war title.
Oh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I saw very little of my boyfriend during our time at camp.
While he availed himself of the opportunity to try out the on property waterslides, I took a walk around the campus, hoping to renew my acquaintance with all my old haunts.
When I went to sit a minute in thePrayer
I would have given in to my impromptu inclination to go for a ride on horseback, but was told that all the time slots had been filled.
I tried to trek to Resurrection Hill, somewhere that for me a student was a special moment sanctuary, only to find that the area was restricted.
The Breezeway, I am almost certain, has been remolded and has had a room removed from it.
The volleyball courts and picnic tables have been repositioned.
The bathrooms in the Blue Jean Café lobby have been not only renovated but completely relocated as well.
I remember using the basketball hoops on numerous occasions, but I cannot recall the paved court that is now there.
The cafeteria food though served, I think, in even smaller sizes now, actually taste better.
(That or I was exceptionally hungry.)
I did not even attempt to walk out to the old softball field. My memories of it are not so great anyway.
I skipped visiting the Student
I did go into N-Dorm.
My old rooms there had been assigned to girls from our church while they stayed at camp.
I showed some of my new friends my old bunk bed.
I also took one last look at the single stall restroom and small closet that my five roommates learned to share.
On the way out the front door of the dorm, I noticed that the bulletin board, which I once slept walk to, had been taken down for the course of camp.
It was equally depressing and understandable to me the way that my campus has transformed since I left it.
I have a new home now and so no longer need the old one to remain ready to receive me.
Still, I had hoped to find a little more as it had been then waiting for me now.
Wanting to escape the heat as well as my rueful reflections, I attended a leader’s seminar, hosted by Bro. Tommy, the founder of my school.
In between sharing seven or more seemingly unrelated stories, the pastor preached about staying focused.
His speaking style and his jokes in this session were identical to what I heard from him in class.
It was comforting to see that at least something was steady and certain.
That was the only occasion I spent alone; it was more than enough time.
For the rest of the day, I strove to let myself live and live it up.
I let one of the youth spray paint bright red streaks on both sides of my French braid.
Another friend put glitter both in my hair and on all of both my arms.
A girl ought to sparkle, after all.
While my boyfriend sat nearby with his pals, eating his first of three bowls of ice cream,
I joined some of our other friends for a lively, smack talk filled round of the card game, Spoons.
I was in the top three when we had to put the game on hold.
In the evening was the camp’s final church service.
During worship, my boyfriend took me by the hand, silently inviting me to join him up at the altar.
We stayed up there for a long time together, united though offering up individual prayers.
I found a sweetly satisfying to be standing in the altar with my boyfriend.
It was wonderful to be with the answer to my prayer, especially in the exact spot I had uttered it.
Though the championship tug-of- war and volleyball matches took place after the evening service, the award ceremony would not occur until the following morning.
My boyfriend and I were leaving camp to go to his granny’s farm that evening, and so would not see our team claimed their hard earned trophies.
After celebrating the win and say goodbye to our friends, I waited outside the boys’ dorm for my boyfriend while he gathered up his belongings.
Sitting on a nearby log in the shelter of a green awning, I realized that, while many things had ceased both in my life at and my school since graduation, my relationship with God continued to be constant.
God is the Eternity that connects my time at Bible school to everything I am living now will experience in the future.
I like to think of my life as a patchwork quilt. Each patch, varied and colorful, joined with the others in pattern designed by God, who is the unbreakable thread that ties it all together.
“For you (God) created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.” (Psalm 139:13)
My life is a literal masterpiece in the making.
My journey in life has only just begun and so had the above road trip.
Stay tuned.
Discovery Zone Travel
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Again
By veronica lynn | July 28, 2008
It’s hard to say goodbye to someone that you love.
The memories held close in your heart don’t seem to be enough.
To sustain you through the journey, you must continue now alone.
But wherever life make take us, there’s one thing I know.
We will meet again.
I know that as we travel, many a friend we’ll meet.
None will be so special, none will be so sweet,
As the friendship we have shared,
In the time Heaven’s granted,
For as far apart as we may go,
Our hearts remain as one.
We will meet again.
Travelling the journey through the stages of life,
In victory and in sorrow,
There’s one thing we’ll keep in mind.
We will meet again.
Together in Eternity,
Always the best of friends.
We will meet again
Somewhere in Forever
We will meet again.
We will meet again.
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Until I Loved You
By veronica lynn | July 28, 2008
You know my story from beginning to end
You gave Your Life to make me God’s Friend.
Greater love hath no man than this,
My Beloved is mine and I am His.
You loved me until I loved you.
With your Word, you restored my heart.
Brought light to my path, offered me a fresh start.
You’ve walked with me every step of the way.
I know I will join You in Heaven some day.
You loved me until I loved you.
You love me and now I love You.
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Still Here
By veronica lynn | July 28, 2008
Living a life in the shadows of sin,
Falling further’s the only progress I’ve made.
Broken and frightened, the tears fill my eyes.
No one’s around-they don’t have the time.
I’m here. Still here.
The help that I need, I don’t feel I deserve.
I think I’m too sick to ever be cured.
I’ve broken my own heart a thousand times,
Looking for something I never did find.
I’m here. Still here.
I remember a story my mama once said.
About the man Jesus who rose from the dead.
Mama said Jesus loves me and bears all my pain,
But I wonder, does He still feel the same,
Now that I’m here. Still here.
Filled with a longing I cannot refrain,
I open my heart and call out His name.
I listen and hear Him say,
I’m here. Still here.
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Diary- July 23, 2008 Seventh Entry
By veronica lynn | July 23, 2008
”That can’t eat, can’t sleep, reach for the stars over the fence, World Series kind of love” - Diane Barrows in the film, “It Takes Two.”
A few weeks ago, one of my co-workers said ( about me) to one of our associates:
“Do you notice how she is glowing and smiling all the time?”
That friend of mine, whom has nicknamed me twitterpated, is not alone in his assessment.
(Only those who have seen the Disney classic, “ Bambi” will understand the reference.)
My mother claims that my skin has never looked better.
Who knew that she could have cured my teen acne, if only she had let me have a boyfriend back then?
(I kid!)
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Diary- July 23, 2008 Sixth Entry
By veronica lynn | July 23, 2008
Shirley McLaine once said, “ The person who knows how to laugh at himself will never cease to be amused.”
I know that to be true.
My life is a circus and, luckily, I am the biggest clown ever.
It works.
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Diary- July 23, 2008 Fifth Entry
By veronica lynn | July 23, 2008
In order to be separate, you must leave something behind.
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