Monday, August 10, 2009

Why?



Sometimes it's hard to understand why things happen. Why did this person die? Why did this couple gets a divorce? Why was this child born mentally challenged? Why? Why is a question we ask a lot. With a friend of mine in the hospital I am now asking why? Why did this happen to him? Why did this happen to one of the nicest guys I have ever met? Why when he is so young? I can't answer these questions. All I can say is: God has a plan. And we need to accept that plan whether we like it or not. He will be OK either way.

I often ask myself, ask God really, why he let me live. I was born four months early, weighing one pound and five ounces. I stayed in the hospital for three months. I was poked in the stomache with one of the tubes the doctors were putting inside of me, so they had to go in fix the whole and sew me back up. I now have a scar across my stomache, and it's sunk in (I was only a few hours old when this and what I am about to say next happened). I was laying on a table where a nurse, (a training doctor actually), was working. She mixed two chemicals together, that should NEVER be mixed I might add, and accidentally spilled it on me. I layed in the chemicals for four hours I believe. The burn left scars from my mid-back down to my thigh, also splotching on my ankles, and left hand. I have other scars from tubes. The only part of my body that is not scarred is my right arm. My parents, my family, were told multiple times that I would not live. I did. I ask God every day: What is your plan for me? Why did you let me live? There is a reason I know.

I am praying hard for my friend, I have grown to cherish his friendship over the past couple weeks, and I don't want him to go. But it's in God's hands.

Monday, August 3, 2009

GREEN




Here are a few banners on one of the best book series ever! GREEN: Book Zero!









^I know you can't see all of it so here is the URL to it:
http://www.youtube.com/v/9zwE31wJ3M4&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0


Please join! My recruit number is 4892

Short Poem




Why is this feeling here?
It was only a dream.
Pictures in my mind during sleep.
They didn’t create the feeling,
Did they?

I don’t like feeling this way
Like no one loves me,
I have no purpose in life.
Or like I have lost my best friend.

`Candi

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Worried About Her

 

JW4

I sat alone on the couch with my legs folded Indian-style. I heard Joe enter the room but neither looked up nor spoke. My thoughts were not in this room, they were miles away with Katie. The girl was having so many difficulties that I couldn’t imagine what she was feeling.

“Kath?”

I looked up when Joe spoke my name. “Yes?” I asked.

“Honey, what’s wrong? I’ve said your name three times.” He knelt in front of me his brown eyes clouded with worry, just like mine were.

“I-I’m sorry, Joe.” I stuttered. “I’m just worried about Katie.” I felt the tears start to slide down my face. “What if she loses the baby?” My voice was shaky. “She’s going through so much right now.”

“It’s OK. God has a plan and a reason for all of this.” Joe spoke gently.

“I know but I’m still scared.” My hands started shaking. “She’s so little.” More tears slid down my face and I couldn’t speak any longer.

“Don’t cry, please, don’t cry.” Joe wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.
“I’m scared, Joe.” I sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m scared.”

“I know, honey, I know.” Joe rubbed his hand up and down my back. “Shhhh.” He tried to soothe me.

I tried to stop crying but couldn’t.

“She said she’ll let you know what the doctors say.” Joe spoke into my ear. He apparently had picked up my cell phone and read the new text message I had received. “Do you want me to tell her anything?” He asked.

“Tell her ‘OK, and I’m praying for her and love her.’” I replied after stopping my tears.

Joe typed and sent the message. “Are you OK?” He dusted his thumb underneath my eye.

I nodded. “Yeah.” I blew my nose into a tissue from the box laying beside of me. “I’m sorry, Joe, I don’t mean to cry so much.”

“It’s fine.” Joe shook his head. “You’re worried about your friend, I’d cry if I was you.” He slid up next to me on the couch and slipped one arm around my waist.

“I want to go see her.” I threw the tissue into the already tissue filled trash can. “But I can’t, she lives so far away.” I looked up at Joe. “It’s just too difficult.”

“Maybe you’ll be able to sometime later.” Joe pushed my hair out of my face. “It’ll work out. Don’t worry.”

I nodded. “I’ll try not to.” I reached up and pulled at the chain that hung around his neck pulling out the dog tags from beneath his shirt. The cool metal of the tags pressed into my palm. “You leave me in two days.” I mumbled.

“I know, and you’re making it very hard.” Joe rubbed his thumb over my hand that he held. “I know you want me to do what I want but right not I’m not sure what I want to do.”

“You don’t have a choice to go back, Joe. You have to.” I told him. “I’m sorry, I’m not meaning to make it difficult.” I apologized. I ran my thumb over the tag, I let it slip out of my hand, it bounced against Joe’s chest and jingled as the tags hit each other. “I know that it would be easier for both of us if I transferred to a college near where you’re stationed.”

“Yes, it would be. I won’t ask you to do that unless you really want to, and if it will be easy.” Joe said. “I would love it if you did but I know it’s difficult, and tedious.”

I nodded in understanding. “I might just wait until next year since this term is almost over.” I told him…………………………..

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Another Poem for AJ




I know the last stanza isn’t the same number of lines but…..here:

Everything is fine,
It will be okay.
He is alive
And in a crib he lays.
I know you want him
To be with you
But he’s safe
And you’ll see him soon.

He came three months early,
At 4 pounds, 6 ounces
He is still too small
To go to your races.
With brown hair, and blue eyes
He takes after his daddy,
With eyes like the skies.

I’m thankful to be named,
The godmother of the boy,
And I hope you won’t be ashamed,
I’ll take care of
Alexander James
~Candi Michelle