...if I only have five years, five years is all I need.

I'll never forget one of my high school teachers who sat me down for a serious conversation and honestly asked, "Do you even have thoughts? Do you use your head, ever?" This was after I decided for my semester project that I would create fake "student IDs," download programming to create the format, and would sell them… I "sold" four before that conversation, one for $6 dollars, two for a bag of Otis Spunkmeyer cookies, and one for an essay that I needed written. I wasn't in it for the money… I was in it for the purpose. They told me I couldn't, I knew I could. 

My poor parents had it rough, they had perfectly healthy, law abiding, respectful, well behaved children and then I joined the family photo and I definitely think their whole world was flipped upside down, shaken up, and changed forever. I often wonder how I even survived past childhood… 

There was another time, around senior year, when I decided I didn't want to have to use my locker on the third floor, as that was too many steps… so I bullied freshmen into letting me "buy" stock at the bottom of their lockers in exchange for signed tardy passes. I wasn't forging anything, I typically signed, "Tedi" and put a few extra scribbles around it and most were accepted without any question. I should have been an entrepreneur or a business owner… I was always thinking up my next scheme. 

By the age of fifteen, I was a self acclaimed badass and knew what I wanted. I wanted the most out of life. I wanted to make my own rules, live by whatever means necessary, and to escape the tiny town that was much too small for me. 

Once, I asked my school principal to allow me to "sell" elevator passes to the staff at my high school. Within the first hour of passing out letters on official letterhead, I sold four… convinced three teachers they could buy them after lunch, pissed one off so badly that she stormed out of her classroom and right into the principals office to throw a fit, and I gave a custodian a good discount since he bought two. They eventually made me return the money and issue an apology. I did it with my head held high, a smile on my face, and an attitude that I could do anything I put my mind to. 

I wanted to change the world, to bring more laughter. 

The days of wrecking havoc in the halls of my high school have been long over for a few years now, but I often wonder if people remember me and laugh… or shake their heads… or say a bunch of curse words under their breath. To be honest, it's probably a combination of all of the above for every single person I've crossed paths with, I have not been an easy person to deal with. Honestly though, with all practical jokes aside, I hope and pray that if something terrible was to happen to me, that people would remember the good. 

Five years is not a long time, that''s my point. High school seems like yesterday. I have spent the last five years in college up to this point, I have skipped classes for the mall, sat in bars with professors, ate more pizza than I ever have in my life, and watched Netflix for days, never having to leave my house. I found my place in this huge world on this great big campus and I settled in perfectly in a town that was small, but where I could still go to the store and not recognize a single person. Growing up in the town that I did, trust me, not being recognized is a luxury that many will never appreciate. 

If I have learned anything in the last week, it's that sometimes life falls a part… dreams come undone… and the entire world comes crumbling down around you. I've learned that sadness can be overwhelming, that joy is contagious, and that hope is the only thing that truly changes anyone. I've learned that it is impossible to control everything… but I have learned that roadblocks are nothing more than obstacles and with the same determination I had when I was was sixteen, selling those ridiculous fake IDs just because no one believed I could in the first place, I am not afraid to fight for what I want, to create new dreams, and to live in the present. I don't know the future, I could die tomorrow because life isn't guaranteed and I have been living my life like the next twenty years were set in stone… I don't know if I have twenty years, but I do have today… and today, I am choosing to fight back. 

Somewhere between high school and college, I became afraid of the world and more importantly, living. I let the fear of failure control every move I've made…  and I don't want to live like that anymore.

… but when I'm gone and this life I've made is over, I don't want anyone to remember the things I've said out of anger, or hurt, or fear. I don't want to be remembered for the punches I threw, for the names I called, or the stone cold glares I gave. My only hope is that somehow I would have lived my life up to this point with such love and laughter and joy and hope that my legacy would be filled with memories like the ones above. I want to be remembered as someone who is witty, and creative, who can always make people smile and laugh, who never heard, "No," who loves with her whole heart and shows kindness whenever the opportunity presents itself. I want people to laugh at the jokes I pulled or the things I said… I want to be remembered for the times I showed up late to class with tubs of ice cream for everyone, for the moments I fell down the stairs ungracefully, for the stupid questions I asked, and for the screenshots I cluelessly took. I want to be remembered for the moments where I stood alone, determined to make this world a better place. 

As I sit alone on my bed in the quietness of the middle of the night, listening to the buzz of the ceiling fan and the ticking of the clock, I am painfully aware of how good life is. The stars off my deck, off in the distance give me hope, they remind me that there is so much life out there waiting to be discovered. 

I don't know what five years will bring… hell, I don't even know where I'll be in six months, but that's where the beauty lies. I think I have finally come to a place where I can grasp that and learn to be okay with the unknown. I am trying to not let the fear control me… but rather to embrace it, use it for fuel to actually make my life worth something. 

There is so much life to be lived when you choose to fight back against the storm. 

That aunt swag

***cheesy, emotional post starting now***

I got some time off work this past weekend so I rushed home to spend some much needed time with my family… when I first became an aunt, I never imagined how much those little people would mean to me, but truthfully they are my favorite people in this entire world. There's no greater feeling than to hear tiny voices scream, "Tedi! Tedi's here!" as they run into my parent's house… nothing compares to their smiles and giggles and their thousand hugs and kisses.

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Here's a list of reasons as to why I love those tiny people:

1. I get to answer questions that I never imagined having to answer, like "Did you see my teddy bear jump off that table?" or "Can we watch Necklace (Netflix)?" or "Can you take me for a walk without the dogs?" or "Why can't I be a marshmallow instead of an ice cream cone?" They teach me how to be silly while being completely innocent… and while they are growing up and learning all about this world, they are teaching me how to be a lifelong member within the world of childhood. 

2. There are no such things as quick goodbyes. The days of picking up the keys and walking out the door are long gone for my brother and sisters, their new normal consists of asking those little people to put on their shoes a hundred times, to gather their toys and to grab their coats… it means chasing them around, dealing with their cries of refusal and "I need 10 more minutes." It means once they have their shoes on and they're out the door and strapped into carseats, they'll probably have to go potty and the whole process starts all over again. When they leave me or my house, this process is no different… it just also includes a hug and a kiss, an "I'll miss you," and a "When are you coming back?" But it also means I get to respond "After while, crocodile," after a little voice says, "See you later, alligator." They make goodbyes so much harder and sweeter at the same exact time… but more importantly, they make coming home one of my favorite things. 

3. Normal everyday things like putting on makeup and doing my hair consists of a learning process where a thousand more questions are asked, they marvel at simplicity and routine… and remind me how easily I take everything for granted. When I heard my recently potty trained three year old nephew proudly yell, "I washed my hands! I did it all by myself!" as he ran through the house this weekend, my heart melted. I've watched this little boy grow from a newborn child to this little guy who can now do things all by himself. Where did the time go? Their excitement is contagious. They are eager to learn. They love with their whole being. They wear their feelings on their sleeves. They are sassy and sweet, tough and bold, and full of energy… When they do something great, the beam with pride and want the whole world to know. 

4. They want to do everything I do… which makes me want to do everything better. I've never considered myself a role model, ever… but when my niece giggles, "Papa said shit," I quickly realize that every word I say is being soaked up and they are learning, even when I don't pay attention. I know I'm not their parents, but I want to live better, do good, and be the best person I could ever be for them to imitate. My niece already told me, "I'm going to go to Mizzou just like you… and I'll live at your house with you and Macey." I have a duty to encourage future tigers, even if her concept of mizzou only consists of tigers, bounce houses, and pizza places. I want to be someone they can proudly call their aunt. 

5. They are brutally honest. My six year old niece recently asked me how old I was… and when I said I was 23, she asked without even a stutter, "Why aren't you married?" I told her I needed to find someone to love me first and she said, "but I might get too old to be your flower girl by then…" Even she is aware of how painfully sad my love life is… and without fear, she shares her feelings. Through her honesty, she is learning and processing and asking questions, and even if those moments are awkward for people she's calling out, she is taking a stand for her place in the world. Those moments make me proud… especially when she giggles and says, "I'm happy you're not married because then you wouldn't play with me anymore."

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I never knew how much my heart could love until I became an aunt, but I pray I stay their "Aunt Tedi" for as long as possible. I pray I never get too old or too married to sit down and play with these little people… they make goodbyes terribly difficult, sweet weekends not long enough, and the life of homework and college much more depressing. My reality is hard when I live two hours away from them, so because Facebook can't even handle their adorable faces and antics, here's pictures from this weekend.

Selfie game strong.

Snapchat stories are all the rage. 

...because tossing cheeseits in your nieces mouth is better than catching grapes. 

There's always time for chutes and ladders…

it's never too early for painting projects…

Why does my kid have to pay the price for your kid's comfort?

I read an article recently about a parent group trying to overturn the "No Peanut" decision in the public school system where their children attend. The article quoted a parent who said, "I had to tell my daughter who loves peanut butter and jelly that she no longer could enjoy her favorite snack just because of another child's problems. Why does my kid have to pay the price for your kid's comfort?"

As a person who has had a peanut allergy all her life, my question to you is, "Why does your kid's 'comfort' trump my life?"



I posted this picture to my Facebook page last week about running into a store, grabbing a candy bar without paying attention only to get home and realize it was a new addition, "peanut butter twix."As a joke to downplay the allergy, I posted this caption, "Another case of Tedi forgot to pay attention happened again. Oh, how I wished I lived in a peanut free world, where peanut contaminated candy didn't disguise itself to look like normal everyday candy."


Yes, it is obviously printed on the package that it contains peanuts… and thankfully, I am old enough to read it and understand that it isn't something that I can eat… when I actually pay attention. I've lived my whole life with this allergy and am accustomed to carrying Epipens, asking for ingredients in restaurants, reading labels on foods, and avoiding anything that is questionable… to put it simply, I have learned to be extremely cautious. 

Does it always matter? No. 

As a child in an elementary school nearly two decades ago, concerns like mine were not taken seriously. I remember trading lunches with another girl in the first grade only to find out I couldn't eat hers, I remember being surrounded by peanut butter sandwiches at lunch, worried about being touched by another student with peanut butter fingers, and choosing not to raise my hand to answer questions when I knew the reward would be chocolate candy bars that may contain traces of peanuts. There was a time around the third grade when I was told I had to sit at a different table for lunch, away from my friends and classmates, simply because it was the only way I could be guaranteed safety. I learned to hate my allergy, try to hide it from the world, and to be careless in order to fit in… simply because I didn't want to feel like an outcast.

Did being that cautious even matter? No.

I have had countless trips to Emergency Rooms, I have spent many weeks in ICU rooms, I have used Epipens more times than I can count, and I have been exposed accidentally to my allergen because of someone else not being careful. Sometimes it has been my fault for being willing to take the risk, but other times my life has been placed in jeopardy because of someone else's carelessness and refusal to understand the life threatening nature of living with a peanut allergy. 

For me, what I eat and what my food contains is a matter of life and death. I do support taking peanuts out of schools because while I know what to look for on food labels now, children do not. Children want to fit it. Children don't want to be segregated from their friends and have to sit at special lunch tables without their peers. Children touch everything and put their hands in their mouths, which could be a deadly decision. At 23, I still have a hard time choosing foods without peanuts, how do we expect a 5 year old child to always make the right choice? It isn't realistic… especially when we have the choice as adults to make a healthy and safe environment for everyone. 

The article I read made the argument that, "those kids can just carry Epipens…" News flash, world… here's what you don't know about Epinephrine. It is scary. I have laid in hospital beds and ambulances as I could literally feel my heart beating inside my chest. My blood pressure has been dangerously over 250 more times than I can count. Epinephrine is a high dose of pure, man-made adrenaline which causes the body to either fight or shut down. Depending on the allergic reaction, I have experienced both… both extremely painful. It can also cause severe bleeding, lack of clotting, and muscle weakness. Imagine trying to breathe with a swollen throat while your heart is beating so quickly… it may only last a couple minutes, but it feels like an eternity of suffocation. Anyone who has ever had an allergic reaction and has needed an Epipen would tell you that while usually the side effects are minimal, no one would willingly choose that… especially for a child. Your argument is not only invalid, it is bordering on child abuse. 

I do carry an Epipen, several actually... and while yes, they have saved my life countless times… they have also not worked or they have required several doses just to counteract the reaction. Why would we make a child go through that pain if it can be prevented? Anaphylaxis is painful. For me, my throat swells, my chest tightens, my muscles stiffen, breathing is hard, and I can't swallow… there have been times when my lungs stop moving air and my throat has nearly closed completely. Most of the time, it's within minutes of eating an allergen. I've had tubes put down my throat, through my nose, shots in my side, legs, and arms, and oxygen tubes trying to keep my lungs from collapsing. That isn't even including the pain of the shots, IVs, medicines, side effects, and the disruption of normalcy. Is all of that worth it just so your child can eat peanuts?

Let your daughter eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when she gets home… teaching her that her comfort matters more than another child's life is setting her up to fail. Teach her about compassion, empathy, and sensitivity instead. I'm not telling you to stop feeding your child peanut butter sandwiches because I can't eat them, I am simply saying, let her eat them at home where my life won't be at risk if I come in contact with her. 

Just in case you are not convinced that this is a real issue, here's some statistics I found:

• Every 3 minutes, a food allergy reaction sends someone to the emergency department – that is more than 200,000 emergency department visits per year. 
• This potentially deadly disease affects 1 in every 13 children (under 18 years of age) in the U.S. That’s roughly two in every classroom.
• Teenagers and young adults with food allergies are at the highest risk of fatal food-induced anaphylaxis.
• Eight foods account for 90 percent of all reactions: milk, eggs, peanuts, tree nuts, soy, wheat, fish and shellfish. Even trace amounts of a food allergen can cause a reaction. Peanuts and tree nuts are the only allergen known to be airborne, which is identified as not needing to be ingested in order to cause a reaction.
• Somewhere around 150 to 200 people die in the U.S. each year because of food allergies. It is estimated that around 50 percent to 62 percent of those fatal cases of anaphylaxis were caused by peanut allergies. Around 75 percent of those fatalities are under the age of 18. 

How many more kids have to die before this is something we actually take seriously? To put it nicely, why does my kid have to pay the price for your kid's comfort?

I'm at a place now where I can joke about my allergy and take silly pictures when I'm sitting in a hospital bed with oxygen on my face and IVs in my arm… I've learned to live life with my allergy and to be cautious on days when I don't want to. I have learned to live with this, to react quickly, and to take it seriously…to occasionally make peanut jokes and to laugh when my dad asks if I want a peanut butter and jelly or rubs his favorite chair down in peanuts just so I'll sit somewhere else. In the process of dealing with this, I have learned to not take myself so seriously, that not everything can be avoided and to laugh when you have to have five different nurses during one night shift just because they accidentally ate something with nuts. But I have learned all of this because I had adults in my life fighting to keep me alive before I even knew what a peanut allergy was… every kid deserves that same voice and a chance to feel safe in their own school, sitting at their lunch table. 

My faith is in Christ, not in the Duggar family.

The Duggar Family 

I started watching the show back when I was still in high school, I think at that time, there were only a few more kids in the family over what was considered "normal," but their message of life and faith was something even I admired as a lost and confused, church-going kid, who has stuck between the struggles of public school chaos and her faith. The Duggar family had a message of hope in a world when Jon and Kate Gosselin's marriage was falling a part, when the Here Comes Honey Boo Boo drama unfolded, and when the Bruce (Caitlyn) Jenner rumors first surfaced… The Duggars boldly professed their faith in God, their unwavering beliefs, and a lifestyle that was different from mainstream America. 

Although the similarities between my own family and the Duggars are very minimal, they somehow captured my attention and the attention of others around the world. They lived differently, somehow more simpler, without any fear of rejection. For many years, they were the standard for "Christian" that I compared myself to. That wasn't due to their fault or wrongdoing, they didn't campaign for followers, they never asked for the world to put their faith in them, they simply wished to share their faith in God on a public platform, and they did it well for almost a decade. 

They shared their family, their joys and hurts, their children's births, courtships, and marriages… They talked of a different lifestyle without much TV or Internet, of homeschooling around the kitchen table, of side hugs, and chosen careers, and the famous Duggar girl curly hair. They stood up against abortion, against gay-marriage, and every other lifestyle that was different from the Bible… In my mind, they were the epitome of a Christian family. 

When the actions of Josh Duggar first made the news, I didn't trust the accusations. They weren't the first to circle around and I took it as any other rumor that had floated around Facebook in the last five years. In fact, I saw the posts for a few days before I even read a single article. Truthfully, I read Josh Duggar's statement before I read anything else… it was one of honesty, repentance, and remorse. 

I would be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed by the actions he made, but to me, in a way, I applauded the family. The way this was dealt with privately, yet publicly is a testimony to their character and their faith in Christ. Did he do a terrible thing? Yes. Did he own up to it? Yes. Was he the one who first went to his parents? Yes. Did his parents get him counseling and treatment? Yes. Did Josh Duggar's heart change? Yes. Was he open and honest with his girlfriend, now wife AND her family? Yes. And perhaps the biggest question of all, was he forgiven from his creator the moment he asked? Yes. 

If Christ did not condemn, who are we, as nothing more than simply viewers of their TV show, to throw the first stone?

The truth in the matter was Josh Duggar was fourteen. 

So… when I read the article this morning about Josh Duggar being a part of the Ashley Madison hacked information, I was once again disappointed by the hypocrisy of this man's words. He has been outspoken against problems our country has, he has been in favor of traditional values, but has secretly been dealing with pornography and has admitted to being "unfaithful" to his wife. At first I was angry. If this family has been a Christian example for the rest of the world, including myself, why would He do this and risk ruining their family's reputation again OR worse, sending thousands away from the message of Christ? 

But then I remembered my own life, and I jumped off my high horse. In the last couple years and specifically in the last couple months, I have preached Christ and his role in my life… but I have also failed miserably as well. Just like Josh, I am a sinner. I may sin much differently than him, but sin is sin and it is still black no matter what it is. 

Who am I to judge? Who am I to throw the first stone? 

As christians, I beg you to rethink, just like I did, to consider that maybe their message of love and Christ is still unwavering and true. Maybe with Josh's bold words against such sins there is STILL truth in that God is still good and He is still forgiving and merciful, simply because Josh knows the redemption and grace God has shown him… even while he was still caught in sin. 

Even in the face of controversy, the Duggar family amazes me in their poise, their faith, and in their honesty. There is no shame in the Gospel of Christ… even if you happen to be a Christian family facing the world's judgement. 

I would be lying if I said that the Duggars haven't disappointed me in the last year, especially Josh, but that's only because I placed them on this perfect pedestal, believing they were without sin… when the reality is that they are just like me and you and everyone else. 

We all fall short. 

Josh Duggar is a sinner and in no way at all am I saying his actions are excusable, but I am simply saying before you cast that stone, take a look at your own life, Christian or not. 

To read the family's statement, click the link below:

http://www.duggarfamily.com/2015/8/statements-from-jim-bob-and-michelle-duggar-and-josh-duggar

A summer of brokenness, redemption, and questions galore…

*Note: My language is sometimes offensive…

After sitting through an orientation for summer missionaries at the end of May, I became painfully aware of how different "my walk" with Christ was from the other students sitting in the room… I think I have always considered myself a "Christian" and when asked about my faith, I usually always replied with a "Christian" answer. I knew enough to talk the talk. 

Just days before I left for that orientation, I was sitting on my driveway after one too many margaritas trying to be coaxed into the house by my patient best friend… She was trying her hardest to convince me to go, to not give up, and to take a chance with God. I, being the typical Tedi Ellis, threw a tantrum on the concrete claiming that, "I just don't want to go" and "God doesn't like me right now." She told me to put my big girl panties on, suck it up, and go… I probably yelled some obscenities at her but I got in the car and I went. 

It was miserable… I doubt I even cracked a smile the entire time. To be blunt, I don't like new people… and I certainly never liked "Christians" even though I claimed to be one. I never associated with "Christians" and I never went out of my way to be friends with any. I never felt accepted by church people. I always felt different… judged like an outsider. I got really good at being fake and hiding behind fake smiles and rehearsed words of wisdom and memorized bible verses. But there was just something about being in a room full of real authentic followers of Christ that turned my heart into a mess and sent my mind running in a thousand different directions. I wanted what they had. 

As I watched the other students singing out and lifting their hands in worship, I realized how different things were… Most importantly, I realized what I was not. I realized quickly that I was not following Christ… or even slightly paying attention to Him. I never prayed about my summer plans, signing up for the summer missions program, or anything, in general really. It was about me, once again doing my best to talk the talk with no intention of ever walking that talk. The moment I got there, I wanted to run away as fast as I could… but I knew on my own, I was a lost cause. 

I was desperate for hope. 

The best thing that anyone has ever done for me happened this summer. I was called out on the bullshit I was trying to hide behind… I couldn't hide behind my pride and bad attitude anymore. The decision for me to leave was not only an answered prayer but the first time my eyes were actually opened to the realness of God. It was the first time I wasn't allowed to just skate on by with no intention of ever truly pursuing God… It was the first time I truly understood and realized a need for a relationship with Jesus Christ. 

Just days after leaving the summer missions program, I gave my life to Christ in the middle of a dark closet, with no one around. I think in all my 23 years on this Earth, that moment was the most honest and sincere that I have ever lived. I realized that no matter how much I wanted to be, that I couldn't be my own savior and that I needed a lord and a savior and a king and that answer was found in Jesus Christ. 

Even though I grew up in a Christian home and in the church, I never actually encountered Christ in a way that was real and life changing until that moment. I slowly have seen my heart transformed and changed and molded in ways I never expected or could have done on my own. However, I am still just as much of a sinner and a screw up than I was five years ago or even just three months ago. I sometimes still have moments when I curse like a sailor and lose self control over worldly things, but I am trying. I know God is at work for that fact alone… In the past, I never actually tried.

If we are being absolutely real, I would tell you that "my walk" is probably still far different than everyone else in that room. To be honest, I just wrote in my journal last week what probably doesn't sound "Christian" enough for most "Christians"…but it was real and an honest look at where my heart is.

"God, I don't really know if I love YOU or not. I don't know where I am, exactly. I love what you did for me when you sent your son to the cross, but I don't love other things that have happened to me that you could have prevented. If you have power over death, then everything else should be trivial for you. I want to love you. I want to serve you. I want to follow you… but God, I don't know if I'm there yet. I don't know if I love you for simply being you, I feel like I only love you for what you did in Jesus and for forgiving me and for saving me from Hell. Is that enough? It doesn't feel like enough… I want to love YOU just because. I want to KNOW you, I really want to know you personally, just like I think you want to know me. I don't know… but please know that I am trying. Help me to love you." 

The awareness I have about myself is becoming more and more as I try to draw closer and closer to my creator, but I still don't have all the answers. I still screw up like it's my job, mess up my witness on a daily basis, and trip over my words. In my opinion, this newfound struggle of trying to know if I truly love God doesn't make me less of a "Christian," because I still believe Christ entered my life back in June when I asked him to. I know where my heart was and I know without a doubt that I was forgiven the moment I asked… with or without knowing all the answers. I want to love God for simply being God, but my heart isn't there yet. Don't get me wrong, I love what He has done for me… I just believe strongly that the relationship I want will come when I figure out how to love Him, not for what He has done, but for who He is. There is absolutely a difference. 

Before I left the summer missions program, one of the leaders told me, "God can handle your anger. I think the first thing you need to do is to get alone with Him and talk it over. You can yell at him, curse at him, pour your heart out… God is big enough to handle your anger." The moment I unleashed the fury of my heart on God, I realized that in me doing so, it wasn't about God for He already knew what my heart felt... it was about me acknowledging God was real and allowing Him to heal my heart. In order for me to let God come into my life, I had to get rid of all the things I was desperately holding onto out of anger. When I finally let the anger out, I realized I took away it's power to control me. 

All of the heartbreak and chaos that this summer has brought, got me to that closet and because of that, I wouldn't change any of it for any reason. This rollercoaster started years ago, it's just that now, I've finally decided to jump out of the driver's seat and let God take over… My only job from here on out consists of me following Him wherever He wants me to go. His plans are far greater than mine.

New beginnings aren't always cute and adorable and easy… but somehow, I do believe that this one will eventually all be worth it. When I doubted God and his existence, He was there. When I admitted I was a sinner and in need of a savior, He was there. When I questioned his sovereignty and his power, He was there. 

I long for the day when I can write of my love for Him… but until then, honesty is where my heart is. Disagree with me all you want, but there isn't a doubt in my mind that although my heart is painfully unaware of where I stand and what I feel… He is there. Luckily for me, my salvation doesn't have anything to do with me or the way I feel, but everything to do with what has already been done for me. His love came first, it has and will always be greater and stronger and deeper than anything I could ever offer. 

He is God and He is so damn good. 

Massacres of EVIL never win

Everyone who knows me knows that my love for entertainment and movies is something I proudly want to share with the world. I love spending every ounce of my free time either watching new releases, catching reruns of classics, or having full conversations with movie quotes. Movies have been one of my first loves, they have taught me to dream, to love, to cry my heart out, to believe, to laugh, to be content. The entertainment world, in general, has been my escape from reality and has taught me more things about being human than any classroom ever has.

My father jokingly says I should have chosen to major in movies instead of social work because that's where my heart is… and truthfully, he's right. I live in a world where I have the privilege to have so many shows and movies at my fingertips, two theaters within 5 miles of my house, and a DVD collection as diverse as they come.

However, I also live simultaneously in the same world where violence is found in nearly every corner of this broken world. I live in a world where I have to fear sending my six year old child into her classroom. I live in a world where I have to fear celebrating my 30th birthday with a midnight viewing of a classic film. I live in a world where I have to fear running down the street in a nation's marathon tradition. I live in a world where I have to fear when my military neighbor goes into work. I live in a world where I have to fear attending a prayer meeting in my own church in my own country.

I live in a world where innocent lives are gunned down in schools, in movie theaters, in terrorist attacks,  in churches, in neighborhoods, in military workplaces, and in my own community. I live in a world where, truthfully, there is no safety or security.

As I watched the news coverage early into the morning Friday, my heart once again ached for the terror found spread across the faces of people fleeing from the scene, of red and blue lights flashing, as reports of the wounded and fatalities were coming forward. I've never been to The Grand in Lafayette, Louisiana, but I have countless times, usually on a weekly basis, sat in a movie theater excited for a new movie, good fun, and a box popcorn. It's an activity that is an American favorite and the latest place that I have learned to fear. When does the senseless violence end?

I remember feeling this same sense of heartbreak and confusion when the Aurora, Colorado shooting happened during the midnight viewing of The Dark Knight Rises back in 2012. I stood around the TV that weekend back in my childhood home surrounded by my family, completely devastated, angry, and broken. I remember being upset when the news anchor called it a "Movie Massacre," standing in disbelief that those two words would even be found next to each other. I didn't understand it then and I don't understand it now, just barely three years later.

There is so much darkness that surrounds events like this… how heavy just breathing can seem… how hard it is so keep the TV on and believe good things can happen in this world.

I don't know when such hate entered this world… I don't understand senseless acts of violence. I don't understand, I just cannot comprehend the evil living inside of people. That fact might make me seem like a sheltered, uneducated, naive girl, but my heart aches for the brokenness that I in. I live in a broken world, a hateful world, where evil has taken root and has shown it's ugly face over and over and over again. This isn't just an "American" problem… it is not just a problem with the West, or the Middle East, but our entire world from Louisiana to Colorado to Texas to England to Syria and to Sydney. Our world is broken… there is evil on every continent, in every country, and in small towns like Lafayette. Our world is in a desperate need for good people to step up, to shine brighter than the destruction, and to show hope exists even when darkness seems to prevail. 

I have no intention of pushing an agenda about gun control, even though in my mind, I wish that was the answer. I don't know what the answer is. It might mean stricter mental health laws or more treatment options, maybe it's about punishing those more severely who illegally sell and purchase weapons… maybe it means educating the public about safety… or making everywhere we go as safe as airports with metal detectors and armed police officers ready to protect the public. I don't know the answer, but I dream of the day when stories like these will no longer be common and lives won't be ruined by violence. 

When will this madness stop? When will people put down their weapons and stop targeting innocent individuals who are looking forward to a night of a good fun, good movies, and a box of popcorn? When will I feel safe in the world, in my own community, or in my town's theater?

Personally, I don't care about the guns… I care about the heroic people who lost their lives trying to save others… of those who ran towards the danger, putting their own lives in harm's way to save people they never even knew. Why do I continue to watch the news coverage? I watch to see the light in the world, to give me hope that the good will drive out the evil… I watch for stories of heroism, of a woman diving on top of her friend, getting shot, but still finding the strength to pull the fire alarm saving countless other lives. These stories give me hope that someday good will win.

Truthfully, I pray the end is near. I pray that Jesus is going to reach down and wipe this world away… I am tired of seeing the same violence covering our screens where entertainment is supposed to take us out of reality and give us a break from the pressures of real life. I pray for the day where I don't have to fear walking on my own campus, worshipping my God, or watching a new movie that I have eagerly anticipated it's release. I pray for the day when Jesus comes and a new Heaven and Earth will be created.

I pray for the families of the Lafayette, LA victims, Mayci Breaux and Jillian Johnson, those that were wounded and the hundreds of survivors. I pray for comfort, peace, and healing. I think I speak for everyone when I say, we are here supporting and lifting you up… we are grieving with you. 

Mayci Breaux & Jillian Johnson

As Louisiana governor, Bobby Jindal said, "Tonight is an awful night for Lafayette, an awful night for Louisiana, and an awful night for the United States. But we will get through this."

"He is jealous for me, love's like a hurricane."

My favorite quote ever that has ever been said by another human is this, "What the hell are you thinking, child? You wouldn't know what love was even if it smacked you in the face and drove over you with it's car four hundred times!" I can laugh about it now, sitting here a little bit closer to figuring love out… but back then, it was painfully accurate. I didn't know what love was… I don't honestly even know if I knew what love was two months ago. 

My idea of love was wrapped up with one question, "What can you do for me?" I didn't know what unconditional love was, how to accept it, or even if I wanted anything to do with it. It was a concept I didn't know… 

God loves you. Blah, blah, blah. To be honest, that phrase is terribly overused and has been sugared down that it virtually has no impact on a dying world… I can sit here and say in a thousand different ways how I know that God loves me and you or that Jesus showed love when He died, or anything, but the point is it isn't going to matter to anyone… the power of that phrase, "God loves you…" has no meaning until personally you stop hearing it, start believing it, and apply it to your own life. I grew up in church, by 21, it had no meaning to me…none. I had to personally encounter Jesus in a real and desperate way before I ever understood the power of such a love. I think the only way to reach people with the love of Christ is for us, as Christians, to stop just saying it and start letting people encounter it. We, as Christians, need to start embodying that love and start walking it to people in our world. Zip, Zero, there's no other choice. 

If you have had a single conversation with me or known me my entire life… or even if you have read anything I have written, you should know that following Christ is a relatively new choice for me. I haven't always purposefully lived my life for Him. In the last month, my eyes have truly been opened to love and grace and redemption and salvation and truth… but more importantly, I realized everything I was doing wrong when it came to relationships and love. 

I have known since I was a child that "Christians date Christians…" I know it's somewhere in the bible that believers shouldn't date unbelievers and there's passages that talk about "being equally yoked" but in my mind, none of that mattered to me. I had this mindset that I'll fall in love with whoever I want… that thinking has only caused me problems, given me a hundred broken hearts, made me feel hopeless, and shattered my idea of what love was. 

I chose the wrong person to fall in love with… 

I looked to other people for comfort and security and acceptance and love. Sin is sin… no matter what it is, it is as black as it comes and it leaves trails of hurt and shame and fear and darkness. The moment I looked for love in places other than Christ was the moment I sinned. I made a lifestyle out of putting everything else before the God that created me, who loved me and sent His son to die for me. My love life was hopeless from the beginning… because I never made it about Christ. I made it about me and what someone else could do for me. 

I've learned a lot in the last month… I've learned in many ways what absolutely NOT to do. But I have also learned about real love, real grace, real security, real hope… I have learned to be real. I took a leap of faith a month ago and decided that Jesus might be the real deal and that just maybe, trusting Him wouldn't be a bad idea & HE HAS BLOWN MY WORLD AWAY. I decided to become a part of the greatest love story known to mankind and I have fallen in love with the greatest man who has ever walked this Earth… who while I was still a sinner, chose to die for me.

"He is jealous for me… 

Love's like a hurricane, and I am a tree

Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy

When all of a sudden, 

I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory

And I realize just how beautiful You are and how great Your

affections are for me."

-"How He Loves"

 It doesn't get any better than that. That is love at it's finest, no man could ever love me the way Christ loves me. I know that, I don't understand it, but with everything that I am, I believe it. For the first time in my entire life, love isn't something that I'm chasing after. I don't need anything other than the love of Christ… it is Him who gives me life, not some boy who sends me "good morning" texts and buys me pretty flowers. In comparison to the cross, flowers don't even make the list. 

News flash, guys, real love can't be explained in emojis. 

Thankfully for me, it's not my milkshake that is going to bring all the boys to the yard… it's the future that God has planned for me. I know God has the perfect man picked out for me and I know that when He sees fit and when I am ready, He will let that man blow my world away even more than I thought possible. I trust in that, I trust in the future God has planned and I have hope in Him… no one else. 

Take notes, boys...
So because God is teaching me crazy new things about life and love and everything in between, here is a list of everything I never knew I wanted in a man: 

1. The man I love MUST love Jesus. I'm not saying the man I love must occasionally go to church and he might casually throw the word "christian" around… I am saying, the man I love who will be my husband someday, MUST with everything he is, LOVE Christ. I not only think this is biblical for believers, but I know this is the ONLY choice God has for my future marriage. 

2. The man I love MUST have a relationship with Jesus. This is similar to the above, but I not ONLY want my future husband to LOVE Christ, I want Him to follow Him, talk to Him, consult Him, trust Him, and have faith in His plans, not his own-- or mine. 

LASTLY, 
3. The man I love MUST choose Jesus over me. Honestly. I believe the only way a relationship and future marriage will ever work out is if Jesus is at the very center. I want a relationship with a man who believes strongly that God is in control and that we, even our marriage, is nothing without the grace of God and the love of Christ.