Thump.

That's the endless feeling inside your soul when the person you look up to most tells you they don't want you anymore.
I really do not know why I'm posting this on the Internet for the world to see... Maybe because it gives a sense of comfort that if anyone does actually read this, they are most likely a stranger merely clicking a few accidental keys and winding up with their eyes and concentration falling into the lap of the deepest, most powerful emotions my heart contains.
When the person you look up to most tells you they don't want you anymore. Accuses you of something you didn't do, something they know you wouldn't do. Completely shuns you from their every day life of which you had played a role in almost each of those days. You just don't know what to feel.
Actually, in part, you do. You know you should be angry, lashing out at them, repaying for the hurt they have caused, and the endless tears you wish would cease but at the same time continue to flow freely. But, in my case, all I feel is love. Strange, isn't it? I want to be angry, stand up for myself, show who is boss, but whenever I consider those options, my heart just breaks all the more, because in those most vulnerable moments is when I long for her to hold me tightest. When I want her to wipe away my tears. To tell her I'm beautiful and that she loves me like she used to do.
I don't know where I'm heading with this. Even as I write, tears stream down my face in a state of confusion. My heart beats with such a seemingly slow rhythm it seems as though it may stop at any moment. It's heavy. So, so heavy.
When I see her, though, it starts to quicken its pace. Though brains naturally contain thoughts, my racing heart has thoughts of its own. "Will she say 'hi'?" "Will she wave?" "Will she acknowledge my existence?" "Will she run up and hug me and tell me it will all be all right?" These thoughts repeatedly consume me in the few milliseconds of first sight of her. Deep inside I know the answer, but that doesn't diminish initial hope.
When I'm at home, I find pictures or happen upon something that reminds me of her. Orange juice. What she told me to drink 2 days before this horrid journey began because I hadn't been feeling well. Boa and hat. Our team memorabilia at camp this past summer. Old texts. Sweet texts I had saved earlier, ones that told of how our friendship and relationship would never end. Everywhere I look, evil thoughts just consume.
I know this is the Devil's handiwork, and I'm allowing him full access into my life. I try to fit God in as often as possible, and though it is far more often than most proclaiming Christians, I know it is not through my hardest efforts. I find uplifting Scripture, advice from parents and friends, but nothing voids the hole. Christ should and easily can, but I'm in the process of trying to figure out how He's going about that route...
Thoughts just left my mind of what else to write about to try to describe exactly how I feel and respond to certain things. I'm tired. I'm numb. I yearn to find hope, peace, and joy through Him, and ultimately He will bring me to that point when the time is just as He would like. But, as for now, I'm sitting here in an endless wallow...

She's Just Her

This is a paper I had to write for AP English class about a point in time that changed my life...

Shelbi Draper. Say that name around this part of town, and most people will perk up their ears and perhaps even throw in a few good words or a story concerning her. OK, maybe not MOST people, but it sure does seem like it.

I admit I’m jealous. It has always been a natural feeling I have had when around Shelbi. Considering we are the best of friends, that cannot be healthy. It is completely a pride issue, because I undoubtedly crave other people’s awareness of my presence, whether physically or by mere mention while conversing. The looks, conversations, and attention enthrall me and cause my heart to feel as though it is on top of the world. Now that I have admitted my repulsive pride, selfishness, and jealousy, let us dig deeper to possibly see reasons, or inadequate excuses rather, for these issues.

All throughout her life, especially since the eighth grade when she reached a new level of maturity and intimacy with God, Shelbi has been someone people are naturally attracted to and also one of whom individuals admire. Walk into church? You can see middle-school students latched on to her like Santa in the mall on Christmas Eve. Parents with visible tears welling in their eyes tell of how she has inspired and encouraged them, their family, and their eighty-five million friends of whom they have told her story. Go to school? The sight of friends laughing hysterically along with her while assuming the look of complete respect is not unfamiliar in any way.

Though Shelbi knows the influence she has on countless people, I do not know if she understands how much her actions, words, and other human aspects get interpreted by others. She obtains qualities of a naturally born leader and this behavior can immediately be sensed as soon as one meets her or hear her speak of the journey on the path she now walks upon.

In March of the year 2009 Shelbi ventured to the doctor for the second time to discuss and question why she felt as though she were carrying bricks and weights upon her shoulders. She had been noticing for about five months the pain in her back and also how her legs seemed to be weakening. After many tests, her revealed diagnosis two months later was that of Muscular Dystrophy in the form of Limb Girdle 2A. This specific disease weakens the muscles that allow humans movement of their arms and legs. Later more tests resulted in Shelbi discovering that by the age of thirty-nine her only means of getting around would be by wheelchair, for she would soon lose control of the before-mentioned parts of her body.

I have no doubt she struggled with the news at times, for I walked alongside her through the entire process of diagnosis and as life continued afterwards. Well, my priorities had not been right through the beginning stages as they needed to have been. While I realized the extent and severity of it all, it was hard to understand all of which was happening and how much being there for her would have helped. Still, even after these past months, Shelbi has her moments where it is tough to understand and completely realize the extremity of it all; but to the public eye Shelbi has not yet appeared to skip even one beat. She immediately went to her faith and sought out opportunities to share her story in hopes that others would be able to see the hand of God in a seemingly hopeless and desperate situation.

I could not believe it. Well, actually I could because I knew Shelbi.

After a church trip to Panama City Beach this spring, I saw a glimpse of the reason God had allowed this disease to have its grasp on Shelbi. He knew she could handle this situation with more maturity and faith than most people who call themselves followers of Christ probably would contain if it had been them. And she is. To every fellow believer who has heard her tale and testimony, it is magnificent; but to see things behind the scenes, the strength she truly has? It is utterly breath-taking.

Shelbi does not want people to look at her any differently than they may have before they knew of her diagnosis. Seeing how this happens, I do not blame them because they just try to show a caring and concerned standpoint. But Shelbi is still Shelbi. Sure, she rides the elevator whenever and wherever she needs its assistance, difficulties arise when needing to sit on the floor, and she randomly collapses, but we make light of it. For instance, Shelbi started chasing Rachel down the hallway one afternoon, and Rachel turned around to face her and said, “You can’t catch me!”

Shelbi replied with, “Is that some kind of sick joke?” They all began laughing hysterically. Though a teacher yelled at them for causing a rowdy ruckus in the middle of a class period, instances like that keep the mood gentle and comical. These aspects assist in helping Shelbi remember she is not defined simply by the disease she beholds. Señora Cottrell, Shelbi’s sophomore Spanish teacher says, “What does a teenager do with diagnosis of MD? According to Shelbi, take the elevator flashing a smile, be a friend while leaning on one (or two), and ace the next quiz living her faith as usual.”

A serious struggle of mine is showing the quality of compassion physically and also emotionally, and most cannot even tell of visible proof of care (i.e. tears) for her that has been shown by me throughout this whole process. The thing is, I have my moments, but like I said before, I still see Shelbi as Shelbi. Of course I can see how the MD affects her physically, but by this point in time it seems normal. Is that bad to say? That the fact my best friend most likely is on her way to being unable to move herself like humans are meant to seems normal? Gosh, when put into writing, it seems as though I must be the worst human being on this planet. The sheer fact that her mental, emotional, and spiritual stability is so visible outweighs her physical stability.

Like I have earlier stated, I am an extremely selfish human being, and not only did Shelbi’s diagnosis with muscular dystrophy make and impact on classmates, her family, teachers, and church members, my pride took a major blow.

I was already in [what I thought was] the shadow, hidden by her “greatness” in the viewpoint of all mutual acquaintances. She was freshman, sophomore, AND junior class president (and I vice-president), on homecoming court, loved by all, respected by more, completely gorgeous, and now she had become more widely-known because of her disease.

Our church newspaper, which is distributed weekly to tens of thousands of people all over the United States, chose Shelbi’s story to be put on the front page along with pictures of Shelbi and her brother, Dakota, and quotes from our youth pastor. Her [much desired by almost every girl at Whitefield] boyfriend, Kevin, works at Shoe Carnival. His naturally critical and stern boss’s boss glanced at Shelbi’s article in the paper mounted on the wall of the office and immediately told Kevin to communicate to Shelbi she could come into his store and pick out any pair of shoes she so desired. She also became well-acquainted with many people of our church who would be at the head of the “important people at Southeast” list if there had been one. My best friend was a star.

Goodness, those words contain a sense of awfulness which surprises even me as I sit here.

Alas, I continue to write this in the midst of slowly learning the lesson of humility. Throughout the past few years she has always been a shoulder to cry on, the friend to call, and the one whom advises and encourages me while I am amidst spiritual warfare. God knows Shelbi has come alongside me though the toughest parts of my own life. I assume He would like me to do the same for her.

I have absolutely no problem in helping Shelbi. I love it! It is understood by me without ANY doubt that God is using this situation and my best friend’s personality, strengths, and weaknesses, to change many lives; anything I can assist in in accordance with His plan will be accomplished with all the effort and happiness my being beholds. This process just, with difficulty and reluctant surrender, is coaching me on how to obtain humility in the most powerful and effective way humanly possible. How do you cure someone of pride? Put someone in front of them of who cannot do anything about their own situation.

Do I think Shelbi was diagnosed with MD in order for God to teach me to be humble? Of course not. It is just another bolt of my own life God is tightening throughout this lifelong journey Shelbi Draper gratefully endures.

Pressure

I've never really thought much about pere pressure. I mean, I can see it and its effects, but I never really got pulled into the whole messy process...
Until now. Well kinda. I mean I've just been thinking about it a lot more lately. You see, almost every one of my friends has a boyfriend or someone of that nature. My sister's getting married. My best friend is dating the "most wanted" guy in our high school. My friends are always going on dates or hanging out with their boys. And I'm here. Thirty minutes away from everyone at school. No boyfriend. And different. And I always thought it was a good different, but I see how my life doesn't attract many, and quickly pushes the ones that are slightly interested away. But it's me. I'm different, and I've always been happy with that. And I still am. It's just tough.
Concerning boys, I'm pretty sure there's a guy out there who's actually pretty cute, likes me, and would be a fantastic boyfriend. I know he'd make me happy and I'd love it, but I don't get the butterflies. I don't get all nervous and giggly around him or wait for him to text. And I don't want a boyfriend for the sake of having a boyfriend. But I often think of how much happier I'd be.
It's wrong (I KNOW!) to look away from God for happiness, but it's difficult not to. No excuse. I know. But I would like someone here physically. I don't know.... Just a lot on my mind lately. Everything's changing. Everyone's changing. Including me.