Realities of saying yes...

So. I have a problem. And I'm going to share it with you in hopes that someone out there will read this and be inspired to avoid from encountering this problem.
What is my problem, you ask? Well, you see, I have the complete inability to say NO to anything. When asked to serve on a committee, lead a Bible study, volunteer for an event, etc, my immediate reaction is to say yes. Not that I don't genuinely want to serve on all of these things, I do! I just honestly do NOT have the time. Thus far this year, I have said yes to 2 Bible Studies, being on the executive committee for Up Til' Dawn (A fundraising campaign for Saint Jude), Student Council, Volunteering at Newspring, Bluefish, and being a Highlander for Sterlings (meaning that every Tuesday, at 3pm, this girl gives a tour. In an effort to avoid bragging on myself (trust me, this is not the point of this whole thing), I would love to encourage tips from the very few of you that read this blog; what is a girl to do? How does one learn to say NO?
It's so easy for me to say No to so many things; for example.
"Hey, wanna cigarette?" ...NO.
"Hey, wanna go water skiing?"...NO.
"Hey, wanna foot massage?"...absolutely not.
But why is it that when I'm approached about getting involved with something, my immediate response is to get so excited about it, and immediately to sign up? Don't get me wrong, I really am super excited aobut everything I'm involved in this year. There's so many great opportunities to glorify God through all of these amazing opportunities, but I'm worried about time management. Thus far, with all of this, I have one night of freedom in my weeks. That night is Friday nights. Every other night (excluding Saturdays) is completely full.
So, this is my advice to the 4 or 5 of you that read this blog that may or may not be struggling with this; learn to say no. Pray that God shows you what you need to be involved in so that you can give it your everything, instead of giving some of yourself to 5 or 6 things. It's better to do ONE thing really well than to do 5 things semi-decent. trust me on that. And hey, while you're sending some prayers up to the big guy, mind saying one for me, too? I've really been struggling with listening to everything God has planned for me, and what I have planned for myself, and differing between the two. Oh, and along all of that, keeping up with my school work. (PS: two papers and a test next week...blogging is going to be put on pause for the next week or so).
1 Corinthians 9:26-27 tells us:
"So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified."

I've really been reflecting on that tonight and praying that God shows me where to run, how to discipline my body to be under control, and how to avoid worrying about everything at once. I'm learning to take a breath, maybe a second breath, and just taking it a minute at a time. Taking it a project, a paper, a speech, a test at a time, and doing my very best to glorify God in all of it. (Although I'm not quite sure how to glorify God in my paper about Oedipus and Gilgamesh...still trying to figure that one out).

Anyways, my whole point in all of this nonsense is this:

Learn to say no. Learn to pray to God before you get in over your head so that He will tell you what you need to be active in. Don't be like me and immediately say yes to everyhing...because you will soon find yourself with one night of free time, and an extremely confusing calendar.

I get to go home this weekend, and it's the last time I get to go home before Fall Break (which is at the end of October). Here's to a weekend of relaxation, paper writing, and some well-needed family bonding time.

Much Love,

Emma

Poetry

Oy. Just the thought of the word "poetry" has always sent chills up my spine. Well, as a requirement for my major, I have to take a poetry workshop class; meaning that not only will I be studying poetry, I will be writing and critiquing my own. So, let's recap:
I've always hated poetry. I've always been terrified of poetry. So, of course, now I have to study it and write my own.
Oh yeah...and my first poem can't rhyme. hmm..

Anywho, so the topic of said first poem for the class was to be written about a childhood memory. What usually comes to mind when people think of their childhood? Family vacations, brothers and sisters, and sports? I dont know. What I do know is what came to my mind...one word that predestined a whole decade of my existence...The Bowl Cut.
Ahh, the bowl cut. So just to catch you up with the story:
When I was growing up, I looked like a boy. Wanna know why? Well, for one, it was my inability to lose any babyfat until I was about the age of 16, how I was taller than any girl (or boy) in my grade for about 7 years, how my cheeks seemed to stay rosy red at all seasons of the year, and lastly, it was the thick-framed harry potter glasses that I sported from 3rd grade on throughout middle school. And on top of all of THAT...we add a bowl cut.
Mom, in an effort to provide herself with ease in getting me ready in the morning, decided one day that cutting my hair off would be a great idea. (Not exactly sure if that was her exact thinking process...I'm sure there was a positive motive in there somewhere) Well, in 5th grade Emma the boy went to sing in New York City. Story time number two:
Boy Emma gets on the tour bus, greeted by a sweet tour guide; a little old lady merely trying to deal with the fact that she had about 40 middle schoolers on a tour bus. So, this lady is introducing herself to each of us, and when she gets to me, out comes one of the most difficult sentences I've ever had to hear..."My, you're a handsome young man. What's your name?" You would have thought that she had just hit me over the head with a club. I cried the rest of the trip, and from that day forward, mom promised to never make decisions regarding anything about my appearance (which, when I became a teenager, she probably should have).

Now that you've heard the story, I'll let you stick to the mental image of all of that as I present to you, my first poem:

"The Bowl Cut"

Fifth grade, mom said it was time

for a hair cut.

A snip here, a snip there

In the kitchen, a top a stool.

Mom, with scissors in hand,

wacking away at the locks

once belonging to her little princess,

now belonging to her prince.

Uneven bangs

accenting the round crooked glasses

and rosey red cheeks of my awkward stage.

Choppy all around, a straight edge

ceasing to exist.

Oh, the bowl cut.

How I loathe you

for turning my awkward stage

into an awkward decade.

Don't be too critical...like I said; I've always hated poetry and have never understood it.

Although I wish I had a picture to put up with this blog, I think the mental image serves its purpose. Hope you enjoyed my little ode to my awkward stage. I'm sure you've had one too.

Much Love,
Emma