It Still Appalls Me How So Many Affirming Christians Feel Like They Don’t Need To Get Involved In LGBTQ

You Are Beautiful - Mike Young

Katherine's Favourite Things - Favourite Musical Artist

Okay, you probably wont ever catch me posting about music every again because my tastes are pretty eclectic, and I don’t have a very extensive knowledge of music, but this one time, I really really really wanna write about music.

 My favourite artist is Macklemore. This is unabashedly, unashamedly, a Macklemore appreciation post. And I know that if I’m a Christian I suppose my favourite artist should be like Tenth Avenue North or something (don’t get me wrong – I love Tenth Avenue North, and Sidewalk Prophets, and Bluetree, and Mikeschair and all of those fantastic people) but it’s Macklemore. Furthermore, at least four of the people in my life who are the closest to me have expressed concern at my recent obsession with the poor guy.

 Hear me out.

 Reason #1 why I love Macklemore: He is independently produced.

And the fact that he always has been, and chooses to remain, independently produced and the reasons he does so, tells you a lot about him. Take a look at some of his lyrics…

 “I’d rather be a starving artist than succeed at getting f***ed.” – Jimmy Iovine, Macklemore

 “Not gonna lie, that s*** sounds so nice, but I got creative control and my soul’s mine.” – Victory Lap, Macklemore

 “If I’d done it for the money I’da been a f***ing lawyer.” – Make the Money, Macklemore

 “I was put here to do something before I’m lying in the casket. I’d be lying on the beat if I said I didn’t know what that was.” – Vipassana, Macklemore

 “I make a living off my words and do what I love for work.” – Ten Thousand Hours, Macklemore

 “If I’m not making music, why the f*** am I existing?” – Inhale Deep, Macklemore

 “People fear that if they’re steering away from the mainstream then their album won’t sell. Well I could give a f***. I’m just gonna freestyle and spit what’s in my gut.” – I Said Hey, Macklemore

 Please note, four out of seven of those quotes were taken from songs that were written after he actually became successful. As you can see from his writing, he’s independently produced because this is not about the money for him. He makes music because it’s who he is and what he was made for, and because it’s the only way he knows to express himself. He was actually offered a record deal and turned it down because he prefers to write what he wants instead of what will sell. Admittedly, he has said “I’m not dissin anyone who’s trying to get paid; I’m trying to get paid too.” (BBoy) and “I’ll be honest, I’m tryna become famous.” (Ego) and that’s perfectly understandable and acceptable, but he does it on his own terms, and that deserves mad props.

 Reason #2 why I love Macklemore: He is conscious of the responsibility associated with his platform as a rapper.

Anybody making music for the general public could be called a “role model”. I’ve heard the arguments that it’s not their job to raise your kids and that they never asked to be a role model, and honestly, I call bulls***. Whether you like it or not, the minute you picked up that microphone, stepped into that recording booth or onto that stage, you made yourself a role model. Kids are listening to your lyrics and those words are infiltrating their psyche and shaping their worldview and you better own up to the responsibility that comes with that. It’s up to you what you do with it, but be aware of it.

 And Macklemore gets it. And he uses his power for good and not evil!

 “And if you want to you can go and label me cautious, but remember there’s a kid at a bus stop beat boxing whose life will be affected by what’s inside of his Walkman.” – I Said Hey, Macklemore

 “Us as rappers underestimate the power and the effect that we have on these kids.” – Otherside, Macklemore

 “How can I talk about the problems of someone else when I don’t have the motivation or confidence to change myself?” – Inhale Deep, Macklemore

 “Not to say that I’m a role model, but I know these words are power.” – Contradiction, Macklemore

 “Am I building the empire up or using my fire to burn it down?” – Contradiction, Macklemore

 That last quote there is probably one of my favourites ever of all his lyrics, because it demonstrates his entire philosophy towards making music, and I find it extremely gratifying to know that he is aware of the power in his lyrics and that he’s consciously trying to write things that are productive and edifying and positive.

 Reason #3 why I love Macklemore: He addresses the duality of Caucasian culture.

My mom calls me a reverse racist, because instead of thinking my race is superior to all others, I think that mine is inferior to all others. She’s technically right, but I would like to tell you that that’s not entirely accurate. Okay, from an esthetic point of view, I have to say that white is my personal least favourite. That’s not the point. The point is that I’m kind of uncomfortable being on the privileged side of injustice. You know? My skin colour has such a history of hate and judgment and inhumanity associated with it. My skin colour still gets treated better. And I don’t understand it and I don’t think it’s fair and I don’t know how to deal with that so it manifests itself in this subconscious desire to not be white.

 And I like to think that Macklemore knows what I’m talking about. He wrote an entire song called “White Privilege”, specifically about the “cultural appropriation” of hip hop music by white people, and in that song, he said that we’re “so scared to acknowledge the benefits of our white privilege.” In the song “A Wake”, he says “white privilege, white guilt, at the same d*** time.” I’ve probably never heard a lyric more accurate in describing my feelings towards my pigment.

 Here’s the extended quote:

 “And my subconcious telling me stop it

This is an issue that you shouldn't get involved in

Don't even tweet, R.I.P Trayvon Martin

Don't wanna be that white dude, million man marchin'

Fighting for a freedom that my people stole

Don't wanna make all my white fans uncomfortable

But you don't even have a f***in' song for radio

Why you out here talkin race, tryin' to save the f***in' globe

Don't get involved with the causes in mind

White privilege, white guilt, at the same d*** time

So we just party like it's nineteen ninety nine

Celebrate the ignorance while these kids keep dying”

 Snap.

 Reason #4 why I love Macklemore: His transparency.

In the song “Can’t Hold Us”, he says “I shed my skin and put my bones into everything I record” and that’s a pretty good way to describe it. He’s completely genuine in all his writing.

 “A lifelong passion, journey and drive; an emcee. People ask me what it means/I don’t know where to start – it’s the deepest connection between my soul and my heart”

…

“This s*** ain’t complicated man just be who you are.”

…

“Now who’s got the passion? Stand the h*** up! Cause I wanna hear somebody rappin who’s got it inside their cuts. Or you can get intricate displayin your fancy cadences, but if you’re not speakin truth you might as well not be saying s***.”

…

“If I don’t speak me, what’s the difference between my lyrics and what you hearin on MTV?”

-I Said Hey, Macklemore

 “Whatever happened to the heart that pumped the passion into the art?”

…

“If you gotta think to feel, that’s not rapping that’s acting.”

…

“In the end what’s classic? Radio bubble-gum or a voice filled with passion?”

-BBoy, Macklemore

 “I use my veins to create the colour I paint from. Delve into something til my heart becomes my paintbrush.” 

…

“I stare into this paper instead of sitting in a cubicle/take all the ugly s*** inside and try to make it beautiful/use the cement from rock bottom and make it musicle/so people can relate to where I’ve been, where I’m going, what I’ve seen, what I’ve heard.”

-Vipassana, Macklemore

 “Now for artists and musicians you see the target’s to listen to the heart and then script it with no margin or limits. To make the pain, strengths, sunrays a part of the picture and convey it in every shade and take it farther and vivid.” – As Soon As I Wake Up, Macklemore

 To me, this demonstrates a respect for the art form and his true passion as an artist. You will never find a song on one of his albums that doesn’t draw either from his own experiences or his own convictions. He’s adamant about the dangers of talking about things in your music that you haven’t lived yourself. And now I know a lot about him and his life just by listening to his lyrics and what I see through those words inspires respect and admiration.

 Reason #5 why I love Macklemore: His humility.

I have mad respect for people who strive to remain humble, especially when they’re routinely performing for thousands and thousands of screaming fans. He wrote an entire song (“Ego”) about the ego associated with hip-hop culture, and the evidence of that same ego inside of himself, and the struggle to conquer the ego.

 “Put those gloves on, sparring with my ego.” – Ten Thousand Hours, Macklemore

 “I got my city right behind me. If I fall, they got me. Learn from that failure, gain humility, and then we keep marching.” – Can’t Hold Us, Macklemore

 “I’m just a flawed man, man I f***ed up. Like so many others I just never thought I would.” – Starting Over, Macklemore

 In case you didn’t know, Macklemore used to be a drug addict and an alcoholic and went to rehab and got clean and was clean for 3+ years and then relapsed. The song Starting Over is about his relapse. It’d break your heart. The first time I heard it, I kinda just wanted to give him a hug. Some of the lyrics:

 “Everyone that put me in some box as a saint that I never was, just a false prophet that never came.”

 “Will they think that everything that I’ve written has all been fake or will I just take my slip to the grave?”

 “I’d rather live telling the truth and be judged for my mistakes than falsely held up, given props, loved and praised.”

 “God wrote Otherside, the pen was in my hand. I’m just a flawed man, man I f***ed up. Like so many others I just never thought I would. I never thought I would. Didn’t pick up the book, but doing it by myself didn’t turn out that good.”

 “If I can be an example of getting sober, then I can be an example of starting over.”

 It takes great strength and vulnerability to be so open about your failings, your mistakes and your struggles to millions of strangers. He doesn’t mind being imperfect, even in his position as a popular musical artist. That humility will keep him grounded, and it will protect him from the pressure in his culture of music and media. There will never be a scandal about him because he’d probably be the first one to admit his mistake to his fans, in a song. That integrity is rare and valuable.

 Reason #6 why I love Macklemore: His commitment to his fiancée.

They’re engaged after seven years of dating. ‘Nuff said.

 Actually, not enough said. Let’s talk about this girl – Tricia Davis – shall we? This chick is phenomenal. I can’t imagine it’s easy sticking with someone through addiction, rehab and relapse. And she’s been with him since his humble beginnings all through his rise to fame. The way he talks about her in songs like Love Song and The End is truly touching and so an extension of my respect for Macklemore is my respect for his fiancée.

 Reason #7 why I love Macklemore: He uses his struggles to help other people.

Okay, so he screwed up. We all do. The truly amazing thing is that he’s completely turned his life around and is using his past mistakes for good. He’s very open about his battle with addiction in his music and the song Otherside has reached thousands of people who either struggle themselves or know someone who struggle with addiction. He’s a shining beacon of hope for everyone who is trying to quit or kick the habit. How many of us can say that we can take our failures and turn them into something positive? That’s just his attitude towards life – keep marching, keep looking forward, and use everything that’s behind you to propel you onward. Incredible.

 Reason #8 why I love Macklemore: the sheer quality content of his songs and the fact that he tackles tough issues head-on.

This is the reason I’ve always loved rap more than any other genre. Because I am a very words oriented person, I appreciated the songs with a story and with profound messages than the fluffy worship songs that were just the same three lines over and over again. It’s just me – a well-constructed sentence, not a pretty tune, tugs on my heartstrings. So when I discovered (very late in his career, I am ashamed to admit) this rapper on pop radio, I was astounded and impressed that the same guy who had a song on the top hits with Ryan Seacrest, was rapping about these topics:

Homelessness (see “City Don’t Sleep”)

Racism (See “A Wake”, “Claiming This City”, and “White Privilege”)

Homophobia (See “Same Love”)

Consumerism (See “Make the Money” and “Jimmy Iovine”)

Materialism (See “Wing$”)

The justice system – specifically juvenile incarceration (See “Soldiers)

Politics – through satire (See “Bush Song” and “American”)

Religion (See “Church” and “Neon Cathedral”)

Drugs (See “Vipassana”, “Inhale Deep”, “Otherside” and “Starting Over”)

 Like, are we not gonna talk about this? I’m so proud of him because someone who actually talks about stuff that matters made it to number one on iTunes! He’s the type of artist who makes you want to go right out and change the world. So I’ll leave you with one final quote of his:

 “You wanna see change? Then put your ones in the air. Then point em to yourself cause change starts right there.” – City Don’t Sleep, Macklemore.

 And he lives it.

 Sooooo….in conclusion: dear friends and family, I think the question here is not “why do I love Macklemore so much?”, it’s “Why don’t you??”

 Who’s your favourite band/musical artist?

any trans person reading this I love you

any woman reading this I love you

any poc minority reading this I love you

any queer person reading this I love you

edit:

no matter how many trolls or trumpies come in my comments and spew their nonsense I will keep saying it over and over and over again no matter how many times to show them I will not change. I will never choose violence or hate ever.

any disabled person reading this I love you

any person out of country that wished they could desperately help I love you

Any parents of a queer child who did everything they deemed “right” to protect their child and still feel as though they failed I love you

any person on the spectrum I love you

Any SA survivors I love you

Any person that needs life threatening healthcare and can’t afford it I love you

Any diabetic person I love you

I don’t know you. But I love you. I will always choose love that’s not a bad thing nor will I ever feel bad about choosing it

Justice and the Gospel - a spoken word by Propaganda (by VergeNetwork)

Love this. Its about the city and culture. Its AWESOME. I RECCOMMEND YOU LISTEN TO THIS. I love the line where he says,

Our savior wasn’t a commuter. 

Man this is great. PREACH MAN PREACH

I am lying here thinking about how I literally cannot fathom that we live in a world that actually makes people feel bad about who they are. Like, this actually boggles my mind. That with 7 billion humans on this planet, some humans tell other humans that they’re being a human wrong. There is no wrong way to be a human. Sometimes, when I take a moment to come up for air, and I have this brief shining clarity, I am overwhelmed with outrage. Because how is it possibly acceptable for someone to feel inferior due to the traits that make them unique? Someone please try and explain this to me. I dare you to try and make this make sense. Out of all the glorious diversity of human life, some traits were labelled “right” and some were labelled “wrong”, and due to these completely arbitrary and 100% fake standards, humans give themselves the right to discriminate against other humans. Are you hearing this? Are you understanding the sheer absurdity of the world we live in? The worst part is that it’s not even anything these people have a choice about. It’s not like they did someone really shitty to deserve some kind of negative reaction. No no, this is literally how they were born and they have no control over it. And our world now somehow works in such a way that they are made to feel that that’s bad somehow?! Stuff like skin colour or gender or sexual orientation? That stuff is the stuff that condemns you?! All things that - really - at the end of the day, don’t matter. Things that are used to divide people because we’ve created these false barriers between one another. This is literally insane! This is complete and utter madness! This makes zero sense at all! The world is so messed up! How the heck did we manage to created a world wherein people actually feel like they cannot be who they truly are? What have we done?! WE MESSED UP! Oh my gosh I hate this world so much.

GUYS. I know that I'm not the most social of tumblr-ers but I really really really wanna have a discussion about this! Will y'all come and chat with me?

So....this weekend I volunteered with this provincial conference called YC. It's an annual gathering of about 2000 Christian teenagers from across the island (the island of Newfoundland, population ~500, 000). We flew in bands like Switchfoot, Group 1 Crew, Unhindered and Bluetree, and some awesome speakers such as Preston Centuolo, Duffy Robbins and Eric Samuel Timm. ANYWAY, at this conference we always have workshops, and one of them was one "Sexuality in the 21st Century". 

So the guy who's giving it is a professor at a bible college and he's super super super smart and he was basically talking about homosexuality. I didn't get to go but a couple of my friends went. So what you're getting here is actually tertiary information, but I'll just post the major points. 

He believes that being gay is a biological predisposition. 

He believes that we all have a piece of "The Fall" in us. The fall includes diseases, addictions, character flaws, etc. So I guess in some cases, that piece of the fall is homosexuality. 

He says that you can be a Christian and be gay (okay, that might not be earth-shattering, but I think it's cool). 

HOWEVER, it's evident from the new testament that the bible does not condone homosexual behaviour. 

THEREFORE, in order to be Christian and homosexual, one must remain celibate, i.e. a "non-practicing homosexual". 

I know, that totally sucks and it's unfair. His rebuttal is, "what about the Christian life is fair? In the same breath, you could talk about Christians on the other side of the world being persecuted and murdered for their faith. What about that is fair?" 

He also personally knows a Christian couple who are gay and a lesbian and they were best friends and they got married so that they would be less tempted to have sex with someone of the same gender (I guess cause they don't want to have sex with anyone else cause they don't want to cheat on their spouse) and also because even though they're not really physically attracted to each other, if necessary, they can still get that physical release. 

I dunno. I'm just so incredibly fascinated with this topic! Like, I know what I believe about homosexual people outside of the church. That's basically a no-brainer. You love everybody, no matter what. Done. But I've never really thought about homosexual people inside the church. So I really wanna know what y'all think! PLEEEEEEEEEASE come talk to me!!!

The Names of God

Short Story: Beauty is a Beast

            You know that moment when you step off the schoolbus in the afternoon, or when you shut your bedroom door behind you, or lie in bed at night, and just breathe deeply, finally completely alone. You know the person you are in that moment? That’s the real you, with all your true hopes and dreams and values. Nobody can watch you or judge you, or tell you what to do or who to be. People should be that person more often.

        I see it a lot. People are always totally themselves around me. I’m your corner store cashier. I’m like a part of the wallpaper. Because honestly, what effect do I have on the rest of your life outside this miniscule window of time for your trip to buy chocolate or scotch tape? It’s amazing the things I can learn about people as a cashier just by simple observation. I’ve worked here at my tiny corner-store-attached-to-a-pharmacy on the corner of my street for two years, and we sell everything from a turnip to tweezers. In two years of working 7-11 every day of the summer and 7-11 every Saturday and Sunday during the school year, I’ve gotten to know most of the people who live in our neighborhood, through routine visits and fragments of conversation here and there.

 For example, elderly Mrs. McAllister lives all alone at the top of the hill with her four cats, whose photos she carries in her purse. Boots is the black one with white paws, Snowball is all white, Mittens is yellow with a black triangle on his forehead and Tommy is orange striped. She buys a 2L of milk and a Big Turk chocolate bar every single Saturday morning between 7:00 and 7:30 without fail.

 I expect Mr. Watkins visit around 9 every second Sunday morning. He always buys Werther’s hard caramel candies, Purity cream crackers, a bottle of ginger ale, a loaf of bread and bologna. He carries two tiny school photos in his wallet of his grandchildren, Jeffrey who is in grade five this year, and Alyssa, who is in grade two. They love the caramel candies.

 Finally, there’s a tall, dirty blonde boy around my age who seems to live on Nestea and Peppermint Lifesavers. He visits my store faithfully every day at around 10 during the summer to get his fix and still comes back every Saturday and Sunday morning during the school year. I know that he likes the Red Hot Chili Peppers, that he plays basketball and that he goes to the school on the other side of the city even though he’s not zoned for it. Name? Not a clue. I call him Lifesavers-Guy in my head.

 I’m writing all this down because I want to tell you the story of a boy and girl. Well mostly a girl, but the boy is in it a little bit. The girl’s name is Purple-Monster-Girl. Or at least, that’s what I call her.

 She appeared on the scene around the end of June, right after I had finished grade 11. That day I was teasing 13-year-old Joshua about his first date that night as I put his comic book and Sour Patch Kids into a bag. He was beet-red, right to the tips of his ears and was probably all too happy to escape when my attention was diverted. The little bell above the door tinkled and I looked up to see who it was. My first impression was that she looked really...for lack of a better word, Normal. I wish I could say she looked Mysterious, or she was gorgeous but she looked sad, but she just looked perfectly normal. She was about 5’7’’, with dark brown hair falling in loose waves to her shoulder blades, looking like she had let it dry on its own. I will say she has a really pretty face, with nice skin. She was wearing knee-length cut-off shorts, a black tshirt with a colourful graphic on the front that matched her turquoise converse. She wasn’t stick-thin but she wasn’t chubby by any means. She was just...normal. She had two earbuds stuck in her ears.

 She picked up a bag of Doritos, a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. When she brought it to the counter I pointed at her ear and said

 “What are you listening to?”

 She cocked her head and looked at me for a second, as if sizing me up, then she said

 “Nothing. People are just less likely to try and make conversation with me if I have them in.”

 Something told me I should have been at least a little bit offended by that, but I wasn’t at all. I just felt like I had passed some secret character test. She left the store and I was left shaking my head.

 “Weird chick.” I thought, and that was the last I thought of it, until she became a recurring presence. She came back every now and then for her purple Monster and  Stride Spearmint, though the junk food varied, sometimes chocolate, sometimes candy, sometimes chips.

 Around mid-July when I was selling popsicles and soft serves to droves of sticky, smiling children, she started coming in at 7 in workout clothes. She stopped buying junk food then too. It was around this same time that Purple-Monster-Girl met Lifesavers-Guy. She happened to come later that day, and both of them approached my counter with their usual purchases at the exact same time. Sometimes, replaying the scene in my head, it strikes me that it’s just like a movie. He stepped back like a gentleman and gestured for her to go ahead of him. She just looked up at him, right in his eyes and almost literally glowed at him, like, her smile looked like he was a child who had just said his first word. While I rang in her purple Monster and Stride Spearmint and she gave me the exact change without me asking her, Lifesavers-Guy asked her the pivotal question:

 “What are you listening to?”

 I looked at her quizzically. Would she be as honest with him as she was with me? She wasn’t. After a glance at me so fast it was almost imperceptible, she took one earbud out, smiled and lied. This is a perfect example of how people are themselves around me. She had no trouble admitting that she wasn’t really listening to music to the corner store cashier, but to this stranger, this boy, who might judge her, she had to lie.

 “Red Hot Chili Peppers.”

 And what a lucky lie. Lifesavers-Guy’s face lit up and they chatted eagerly all through his order, in which I had to tell him his total twice because he wasn’t paying attention the first time, and out the door. I could see them standing on the sidewalk outside the store. She laughed a lot and he smiled shyly, then they switched their phones and gave them back. I just grinned.

 As the days scorched and summer wore on, I sold a cool drink to every customer who walked in the store. August was giving us a beating this year. I stood behind my counter and watched harried fathers buying a box of cereal early in the morning, little old ladies buying tea bags and muffins, and people of all ages rushing in to pick up a card for various occasions and asking to borrow my pen. And I watched Purple-Monster-Girl and Lifesavers –Guy. Not in a creepy way, I mean when they came in the store. Sometimes, if he was alone, he bought Stride Spearmint or a purple Monster with his traditional order, or she bought Nestea or Lifesavers to accompany her drink and gum. Purple-Monster-Girl’s early morning workouts seemed to be working for her too, because the soft curves of June has transformed to taut, toned lines for August. As summer died with blazing red and orange sunsets, I saw them come in together sometimes holding hands. If one or both of them were in the store when Red Hot Chili Peppers came on the radio, I saw them smile like they shared some kind of secret. It obviously wasn’t such a huge secret if I was in on it, but nobody thinks of that.

 I guess they just felt special, as only new couples can. They were like a modern day Romeo and Juliet. Actually, scratch that. Let’s say they were like a modern day Beauty and the Beast. Not that either one of them was ugly and the other one was beautiful, I just think that story is infinitely more romantic than Shakespeare’s tragedy because it’s about seeing people for who they really are and looking past outward appearances. Anyway.

 The days grew shorter, the soft serve machine went into storage, and Purple-Monster-Girl, Lifesavers-Guy and I all went back to our respective schools for our last year. My time spent behind my corner-store counter was cut from seven days to two. But I still got visits from my favourite couple on the weekends. It was around the time that Crayola crayons and loose leaf were in big clearance bins at the front of the store, and big boxes of mini chocolate bars were on display that I saw Purple-Monster-Girl’s hair straightened for the very first time ever. She wasn’t wearing her workout clothes this Sunday. She was wearing shorts that were, in my humble opinion, too short. If not for the weather, at least for propriety. And she wore the same tshirt I had first seen her in. It hung on her differently now. It slipped right past her flat, toned stomach and didn’t even catch on her hips.

 And there was trouble in paradise for our neighborhood lovers. Or at least, that’s how I interpreted it. One chilly morning early November, I was organising a magazine rack and shaking my head at celebrities exploits when the two of them approached the store, seemingly in a heated discussion, judging from their faces through the glass. They stopped talking as soon as they entered the store. The tinny radio music couldn’t quite handle the oppressive silence, and only made it awkward when Red Hot Chili Peppers came on. I pretended to be totally absorbed in perfecting the magazine display, until they had paid for their items and left, still in silence.

 Chocolate Santas, chocolate Snowmen and chocolate Reindeer were flying off the shelves and we had our first snowfall. I smiled at all my customers and wished them a Merry Christmas as they left the store. The same five annoying Christmas songs played over and over the store speakers for a month straight, and everybody was jolly. And I watched tiny changes in Purple-Monster-Girl. Dark eyeliner rimming her eyes. A lower neckline than I’d ever seen her wear. Her hair was more often straight and more seldom wavy. She was still beautiful, but she packaged it more. She looked like beauty was no longer natural, but something she put on like a mask when she got up every morning. The day after school let out for Christmas vacation, they came in together, looking happy again. He kept his arm around her waist, not possessively, just kinda chillin there, like he was supporting her, or protecting her. And I saw the way he set his jaw.

 New Year’s Day the corner store was open. It closed only Christmas Day and two other forced holidays under the labor law. Anyway, I sold a lot of Advil, Tylenol, Coffee and Gatorade that morning. I didn’t try to make conversation with those customers, I just kind of smiled gently at them. One such girl laid a box of Advil on the counter with a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. She didn’t really resemble the one who came in five months ago and told me there was nothing coming through her earbuds. Her whip straight hair had been highlighted with caramel streaks. That looked great to me. What didn’t look great was the tank top that looked two sizes too small and the painted-on jeans which revealed stick arms and legs and a waist so tiny it looked like it would fit between my finger and thumb. I stared at her for a few seconds in wonderment. There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheekbones had become very defined. I passed her her plastic bag of three items and wondered who she had kissed at midnight.

 It evidently wasn’t her boyfriend. No more did they enter the store together or buy each other’s items. Red Hot Chili Peppers on the radio elicited a stony face from him and...nothing from her, no recognition whatsoever. A week after we went back to school I watched Lifesavers-Guy stalk resolutely past the Monster cooler and refuse to let his gaze wander to the gum display next to the counter. I didn’t make any eye-contact with him as I rang in his Nestea and Lifesavers.

 The following month saw weather as cold and blustery as the night the enchantress sought refuge in the Prince’s castle. Business was slow. I sold contact solution, Benadryl, Root Beer and Reese’s Pieces. At home, I did homework and I started watching Beauty and the Beast again, to relive my childhood. I only saw the beginning before I fell asleep though. I saw the Beast shut himself up in his tower, ashamed at his own appearance, despising himself and repulse any human companionship. I felt bad for him. After all, who said he was ugly? Only society’s socially constructed ideas of “beauty” made him think that. It only took the right person to see the real him, and to see how beautiful he actually was. But I digress.

 Lifesavers-Guy came to the store less, probably because Purple-Monster-Girl still visited faithfully to get her energy drink and gum. She never put food with it, but I did get a few surprises. One morning I was just listening to 10-year-old Jess tell me about the latest Nancy Drew mystery she had read, in between mouthfuls of Skittles. Purple-Monster-Girl slipped in somewhere around the falling action. After Jess left, Purple-Monster-Girl placed her traditional energy drink and gum on the counter and then plopped down beside it a box of condoms. I said nothing, just looked at her. She wouldn’t meet my gaze. I rang through her order in what was supposed to be disapproving silence but I don’t know if she got the vibe. That was Saturday. The next morning I sold her more Advil.

 Three weeks later it was uncommonly crowded in my tiny store. Purple-Monster-Girl was coming in as Lifesavers-Guy was going out. Manoeuvering around her, he placed his hand ever so lightly in the small of her back, an unconscious, tender touch, but drew it back suddenly as though stung. A moment later she turned around to get her Monster from the cooler and I could see why. Her thin, tight shirt revealed every vertebrae in her back in sharp relief, clearly visible through flesh and fabric. I looked at her with sad eyes. She wasn’t the normal girl she was in June. Seven months had transformed her into an entirely different person, one who was quite evidently underweight. One who...was buying a pregnancy test. Heaven help us. I glanced quickly at her face, but her gaze was focussed somewhere past my left ear. I could only hope that I didn’t see her back here in nine months buying baby formula. After THAT experience, I examined all the labels on our condom boxes, and concluded that she should have bought the ultra-strong ones. They were 98.2% effective, which is a whole 1.2% more effective than the normal kind, but my faith in them was shattered forever.

 The next Saturday, everbody was buying boxes of Barbie valentines and candy hearts and Hershey kisses. But not Purple-Monster-Girl. I caught myself staring at her stomach, looking for a bump. I knew it was too soon, but I did it unconsciously anyway. She just looked as shrunken as ever to me. However, to my immense relief, this shopping trip featured a box of tampons. I actually had to restrain myself from sighing in relief.

 The ides of March rolled around and a lot of green was on sale everywhere. I saw garlands of four leaf clover and plastic cut-outs of leprechauns and the young and middle-aged elementary school teachers who bought them for their classrooms. And quite suddenly, Purple-Monster-Girl disappeared. Saturday morning when the bell tinkled I didn’t even look up, until I heard a much heavier footfall than what I was used to, and beheld a strange man in a suit buying Pepsi and a muffin. I waited and waited and waited. The end of my four-hour shift came and still no sign of her. Nobody made any utterance of where she was. They didn’t need to.

 Near the end of March, I served a woman whom I had never seen before. It wouldn’t be weird to me because I do that all the time, except for a striking resemblance to a girl who used to come in here all the time, and the fact that she was buying a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. And did I mention this corner store JUST HAPPENED to be just over the hill to the hospital? The woman’s hair was disheveled and she bore unmistakable signs of fatigue in the shadows under her eyes and the droop of her shoulders. She spoke in hushed tones to the woman standing next to her, whom I assumed was her sister of friend. Completely unintentionally, I caught snippets of their conversation. “ ...still refusing to eat...heartrate dangerously low...better in time for prom...” As I handed her her receipt, I smiled at her and wished her a good day as sincerely as I could.

 That night, I tried to finish watching Beauty and the Beast but I only got as far as the dance in the ballroom and Belle wearing her beautiful yellow dress. I reflected that yellow doesn’t look good on many people. In the meantime, I knew the rose in the tower of the castle was wilting. Time was running out. This Beauty felt more like the Beast and I didn’t know if she would get to dance with her prince. This story of a girl and boy is shaping up more like a Shakespearian tale than a Disney movie after all.

 A couple weeks later, I looked up to see a tall, dirty-blonde boy enter the corner store. He didn’t pick up Nestea and Lifesavers this time. He went straight to the Monster cooler and picked out a purple one, then a pack of Stride Spearmint gum, then on the counter next to them he placed a greeting card. There was a cartoon Teddy bear on the front with a bandaid on his head and big bold letters above it: “Get Well Soon!” I wanted to say something, but what would I say?

 “I’m sorry your ex-girlfriend who dumped you because she’s sick and whom you’re obviously still in love with is in the hospital”

 Yeah, no, that’s a little creepy.

 I thought for a second, then threw caution to the winds and just said

 “How is she?”

 He looked up as though mildly surprised that I was speaking to him, and took a minute to process my question.

 “She’s doing better than she was.”

 I nodded. “That’s good.”

 Then he left.

 I remember clearly Saturday, April 28th Lifesavers-Guy came in my store again. He didn’t buy a single thing, just marched straight the counter and said

 “Can I show you something?”

 I was completely taken aback and slightly apprehensive. In the past, such a question had precipitated photos of cats in various attitudes of idleness, of school portraits of grandchildren, but I didn’t know what to expect from this teenager.

 “Sure.”

 He reached into his pocket and pulled out a photo. It was of a couple under an arch decorated with swaths of white tulle and flowers. He wore dress pants, dress shirt, vest and tie and she wore a beautiful yellow dress, a perfect fairy tale dress. I recognized the dark hair with caramel highlights and the smile I had seen the day they met – the same glowing smile like a child had said their first word. She still looked skinny but I could see signs of returning curves, like back in June when I described her as “Very Normal.”

 “That was at her prom last Saturday.” He said.

 I looked up at him. “She’s beautiful.”

 He smiled. “I know.”

 That night I went home and finally finished watching Beauty and the Beast.  As Belle and her Prince kissed at the end and fireworks went off, I reflected on how thankful I am that there are people in this world who know true beauty when they see it.

 You know that moment – when you step off the schoolbus in the afternoon, or when you shut your bedroom door behind you, or lie in bed at night, and just breathe deeply, finally completely alone – you know the person you are in that moment? That’s the real you, with all your true hopes and dreams and values. Nobody can watch you or judge you, or tell you what to do or who to be. You should be that person more often. Who cares what anybody thinks? Because I can promise you there is somebody out there who will love the true you. 

I know how hard it is to talk about Jesus. It’s the most awkward conversation you’ll ever have. If you even say the whole Gospel out loud right now, it sounds like the craziest thing you’ve ever heard. But the Gospel isn’t some ‘speech’ you unload on people and then ‘leave it in God’s hands.’ Blasting people with theology is like serving icing for dessert. Evangelism is your whole life, it’s sharing your home, it’s enduring patiently, it’s being a human being, it’s availability, it’s sharing Jesus through who you are; not perfectly, but passionately. Yes, invite them to church and to that revival and talk about your faith and your testimony, but once you dare to go there, just know you might be rejected immediately, a lot, and aggressively. Except secretly they can’t deny there must be something to it, because you’re not just a billboard: you’re an overflow of a barely containable supernatural miracle.

J.S. Park (via jspark3000)

WHy do you go to a non-demoninational public university. Why dont you go to a Private Christian school? Like Liberty university or something?

I'm still seriously wondering how you know where I do or do not go to school. :S Anyway, it's just kind of that I never even considered Liberty U, or similar schools, as options. Cause I wanna be a doctor. Also, I live in Newfoundland, Canada. And people who love on Newfoundland who want to go to bible college go to one of two universities: Tyndale, in Ontario, or Vanguard, in Alberta. Since I don't want to be a pastor, I don't really see the point in going to either one of those schools, or any school at all other than Memorial University. It's the only university in Newfoundland and it's suuuuuper cheap, and I can live at home and all that good stuff, and it's a relatively good quality school where I can get a science degree before I go to med school. Sooooo....yeah, it was just a really easy decision to make. Almost not even a decision at all. That's all :)Peace and love!-Katherine