Monday, April 11, 2011

"Change the World..."

We can change the world...

With one act of kindness to another, we can make the difference.

We can change our home, with the spreading of love instead of violence.

With hostility challenged by peace, we can change the fate of human kind.

We can change the world, with love replacing anger in the mind.



We can change the world...

With an act of conservation, we can make a stand.

We can save our planet, with the spreading of awareness through the land.

With saving instead of taking, we can preserve our precious earth.

We can change the world, with embracing our home's true worth.


With our hands joined in hopeful happiness, we can change the world...

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Unanswered questions...


  • I am often told, "You are wise beyonjd your years." " You speak above your standards." "You are a very different kind of teenager."

  • I am often asked, "How do you think like this?" "Why do you think like this?" "Where do these thoughts come from?"
I am so very flattered by the praise I get for some of my thoughts and, quite often, stumped by these questions that my thoughts arouse. The only answer I can give is, "I have no idea..." All my life, I've been different. Not the kind of different where my skin glows or where people notice me all the time, but the kind of different in knowing that there is something I know that others don't. I've never been one to attract attention to myself. I've never tried to be the most beautiful girl or the most talented kid. All I've ever wanted is to blend in. From first grade to tenth grade, I've just wanted to be like everyone else. Part of me still does. I still want to be able to know the right things to say to people. I still want to be in tune with the latest fashions at school. But, alas, that's never happened. I suppose I'm what you call 'antisocial'. And, part of me likes it that way. Part of me likes knowing. Part of me likes being what it is. Walking through the halls of my highschool, I see kids my age who are always talking about the latest movie, or the new store that opened, or the guy who's dating so-and-so. And I've never been able to just fit right into the conversation. Because my mind is never in those petty thoughts! Part of me wants to care about that stuff. But part of me knows God has me thinking like this for a reason. Part of me knows that my thinking is always deeper than the skin but in the heart of things, because that's where it's supposed to be. But being different still isn't easy. It makes me self-conscious and insecure, thinking "What's wrong with me? Why am I so different? Why can't I just know what everyone else is talking about and leave it at that?" And each time I ask myself that, I picture myself on one side of a mirror. On the other side, there are people I know and interact with every day, but can never truly be with. Because, for whatever reason, God put me on this side of the mirror. The side that looks at the fights going on at school and wants to cry. The side of the mirror that doesn't care about what new store is opening at the mall, but cares about and prays for Haiti to get better. With my hands pressed against the glass, looking in at the world in wonder and curiosity, sorrow and frustration, knowledge and uniqueness, I know. I understand what's important. And those teenage qualms of the present day mean nothing to me because my head is always in the clouds looking down at the wordl for what it is instead of down there partaking in it. And it's so hard to explain this because in my mind it's so clear, but once it tries to come out, It's just a ghost of thought that slips beyond my reach once more... So, why is it that I am the way I am? I don't know. Because God wants me here on this side of the mirror? Because my heart is always going beyond the edge of things to discover and create? Becuase I hunger to know what great things there are in this wonderful world. What good is a mall, or clothes, when you have the whole world dancing at your fingertips? Why is it that if I tried explaining this to a random person in the hallway, they would walk away not having any idea what I was talking about? I don't even know if anyone reading this will understand, but if God understands (as I'm sure he does), then I have nothing left to say. Because God made me who I am for a reason. And that reason? Well, I'll just have to find out...