Are you there God? It's me...Laura.

It's no secret that God and I have been very distant in the past few years - since my Senior year of high school, really. I was super involved in the church for most of my high school years, but for some reason...more exposure to the real world, I suppose...I became disenfranchised with the whole "God will save all" idea. Probably because I realized first hand that bad things did happen and I questioned where God was at those times.

Anyways. I went through college basically a faithless neaderthal who, at times, was worshipping the porcelain god more than the God I had been taught through years of Catholic religious education. I was in that in-between stage of having been taken care of by my parents and being completely self-sufficient. For some reason, I believed that I could and had to take care of everything on my own...pull myself up by my bootstraps one might say. I looked at people who relied on "God" and "faith" to help them through a difficult time as weak individuals who weren't emotionally strong enough to do it on their own. I truly did not believe that there was any higher power looking out for me.

Or maybe, deep down inside, I knew that what I was doing wasn't something particularly "sanctioned" by God...and I was ashamed. Kind of that "I'll break up with you before you can break up with me" thing.

I started praying to God for an answer to my "why is everyone else falling in love and getting married and not me" dilemma when I started writing this blog...and for a year and a half, I didn't get an answer. The answer was sitting right in front of my face the entire time but I think that I was praying not just for a man to stand at the end of an altar, but for a real life-long-best-friend-soul-mate person. And I know now, looking back, that God knew what I truly wanted, but yet he also knew that both myself and my LLBFSM person needed time to get things straight in our own minds before we could be happy together.

So then he was there and I thought to myself that all my prayers had been answered...I hadn't been forgotten by God, although I frequently forgot about him. Oops. But then he screwed up and again, I had to rely on what little faith remained from my years of disillusionment and believe that he was telling the truth. And everything turned out very well...which has led to me thinking this God character might be a pretty important person to invest more time, energy and emotion into.

I've just started praying little prayers here and there:

Prayer: "Please God, give me the patience to encourage my volleyball team this year to do their very best."
Outcome: My team was in the top 4 of the district at the end of season tournament.

Prayer: "Please God, give me the strength to fight these cravings."
Outcome: I quit smoking this summer. Applause is welcome.

Prayer: "I know that God has the right house out there for us."
Outcome: We're moving into the most beautiful first home on Thursday!

Prayer: "Please God, don't let him go to deep. I know he's hurting and there's nothing I can do to change it. Please....show him that he's okay..."
Outcome: It's a daily prayer and it always will be...but so far - he's doing very well.

Those are just a few of the ones that I can truly remember at this point in time. But the moral of the story is that I'm coming around on the God thing. Still not to the point of an actual church attendance...but the spirituality is returning.

Bittersweet

All the pictures are off the walls leaving the faint outline of an apartment once lived in. The bookshelves have been emptied and now resemble a toothless grin. The sound of doors and cabinets shutting echo a bit more off the blank walls, adding a shuddering, melancholy soundtrack to the finality of what path my life is about to take.

I look around and my apartment is filled with memories. Memories of Girl's Night with Meggie and Jennifer and a round of Taco Bueno for everyone. Singing Les Miserables and High School Musical with Jenn, enhanced by a bottle of wine of course. Quiet and lazy Sunday mornings spent on the porch with a book and a cup of coffee. Writing this blog while desperately praying for inner peace. The sense of accomplishment when my new couches arrived. Curled up on the couch with my ankle the size of a softball while my coworkers made sure I had food and water within reach. My mother painting the letters "LAUGH" with me, while she was praying that I too, would someday laugh again. Hot summer days, cold winter nights, and throughout the storm season that ravages North Texas in the spring...I've been here for two and a half years.

I feel as if I grew up in this apartment. I learned how to pay bills and how to save up money for big purchases. I took off the training wheels and became an adult here. I stopped spending my money on drinks at the bar, and instead on books that quench my inner thirst. I have opened the blinds and let the sun shine in on my joy and closed up the curtains in an effort to shut out the world.

Although great joy and contentment await me in the new house and new life, it will be bittersweet to say good-bye to this little home I have created.

Extreme Blog Makeover!

After perusing some of my friends blogs, I realized that I was way behind on the "make your blog cute" bandwagon, so I have updated this blog and come clean on who I am...as the giant picture of me shows. So...there you have it. I like the new look - enjoy!

Election Day!

I'm not a patriotic person. I don't wear red, white and blue on the 4th of July and I don't get misty-eyed at the playing of The Star Spangled Banner. I think that...to a certain extent...patriotism can at times become commercial, much like Christmas. Anyone can put on a stars and stripes shirt and wave a flag...but I believe that our true patriotism can be found in the voting lines wrapped around thousands of buildings scattered across the United States. I find patriotism in the idea of people passionately caring about what is happening in the country and taking advantage of the freedoms we have here. I'm not that super "patriotic" of a person, but that doesn't mean that I don't love and appreciate my country and the choices I have.