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His love

At camp, the paid summer staff and a few others give short testimonies on the things God has recently been teaching us. This was mine for last week.
Lately, I've been realizing all of the great stuff God does for me. An example of this would be that about two minutes before I had to leave to come here to camp, I realized I didn't have my watch, and I had no idea where it was. I ran upstairs into my room to frantically search for it, and it was right there in front of me, sitting on my shelf. Right away, I thanked God that He'd shown me where it was. He does stuff like this for me all the time, especially since I tend to forget where my things are quite often. When He helps me like that, whether it's helping me find my watch, making sure my sisters and I don't get into a car accident on the way here, or anything like that, I'm reminded that He loves me. God loves me always, no matter what I do. In His eyes, I'm precious. Him helping me find stuff, keeping me or others safe, or giving me an idea for a story are ways that He reminds me of his love.
The verse that I picked to go along with this is Psalm 36:5. "Your steadfast love, O LORD, extends to the heavens, your faithfulness to the clouds."

Bekah Joan


God's workmanship

At camp, the paid summer staff and a few others give short testimonies on the things God has recently been teaching us. This was mine for last week.
I didn't want to come to camp this week. I wanted to stay home in an environment where I knew I was loved and accepted. It wasn't a big deal to me that I felt God wanted me to work at camp this summer. I just wanted to stay home.
But I'm here (obviously), because I need to be. As we've been learning in Bible Round Up, we are God's workmanship. That means we're specially designed by Him. We've also learned that we're designed by Him to do good works. This summer, my good work is being a counselor-in-training here. Our verse "For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." has been a wonderful reminder to me that whether I want to or not, I'm supposed to be here.
(And for the record, I'm having a lot of run and am really glad I came.)
So, for you guys, do what God tells you to. That's what we're here for. The life God has made for us is the best life we can possible have.

Bekah Joan

p.s. Bible Round Up is the devotion we do with the counselors, and our theme verse is the one quoted above—Ephesians 2:10.


learning how to fly

I'm off to camp. Well, camp training. This is my second summer working there, and my first as a counselor-in-training. I'm nervous and scared and excited and a bit frazzled because the whole packing process makes me even more nervous.
I think I'm going to forget something.
Anyway, this is my first real job where I actually get paid, and it's all "official" and stuff. It's quite intimidating. I'm venturing out of my little world into one that's filled with kids. Lots of kids (and the staff, who range from teenagers to adults. But a lot of us act like kids sometimes, including myself). I'm leaving my world of precious stories that I make up, and stepping into life. You know, where there are actual stories with actual places and real people. Pretty scary, huh? I'm going out to represent Jesus to a lot of people who, one day, could change the world. I'll make mistakes. Lots and lots of them. But it's also not in my control. God will do whatever He wants, and I'm just here to make sure the kids don't eat glue or make a mess of the cabins.
Before I do that, though, I have to go to training, where I learn the correct way to tell the kids to not eat the glue or accidentally kill whoever has to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I'm learning how to fly. I will fall many times, but I'm not going to stop trying until you all see me soaring in the sky.
(Back to reality, without all the poetic mushy-gushiness.)
Before I go to training, I have to mow the grass, finish packing, and go to my best friend's graduation party, which starts in a half-hour.
So, in other words,
(Oh, and the whole reason for this post was to let you know that I'm done blogging until camp is over, which is mid-July. I won't be home except for on weekends, and unless I get a burst of energy, you won't hear from me on this blog for a little over a month.)

Bekah Joan


summer is officially here.

Finally, summer has come. I've been done with school for awhile, but we had our evaluations on Tuesday morning. That makes it all official, I guess. On Sunday, we went to a little place called Sara's. They have some awesome hot dogs and French fries, along with delicious ice cream. We go there every year to start off our summer. Summer camp staff training starts this Sunday. It's going to be a crazy season of kids and the evil summer heat. But you know what? It's going to be awesome.

Bekah Joan


harry potter: the prequel continuation

In 2008, J.K Rowling published an 800-word (ish) prequel to the Harry Potter Series. It's about an adventure James and Sirius had, but J.K didn't exactly finish it (on purpose, I believe) or explain why James and Sirius were doing what they were doing. So, this is my attempt to "finish" it and explain what I think was going on. You can find the book, for free on Goodreads, over here. You can also find this story on TeenInk right here. (You should all go and rate it. Please?)
The Marauders (via)

Fisher was the first to recover. He pried Anderson’s arms off of him and crawled to his knees, peering at the three men lying insensible on the ground. Their brooms were in broken pieces next to them. He stood, his knees shaking. Who were these flying men?
“What are we going to do with them?” Anderson whispered, standing.
“Take them in, I suppose.” Fisher took a piece of the broomstick and examined it. “Call in a team—we need to bag all this evidence.” He looked at the battered-up police car. “We’re going to need all the evidence we can get to make people believe us.” He looked around. Was he dreaming? “Anderson.”
“Pinch me. OW!” The pain was sharp. This was real. So he walked to the police car, called in a team, and then stared at the three unconscious men on the ground. He took a deep breath and glanced at Anderson. This was going to be a long night.
. . . .
“Who were they?” Lily demanded, standing over James, who was sitting at a table at The Three Broomsticks, sipping a butterbeer. He was with Sirius. Peter and Remus had just arrived, and they’d brought Lily with them.
James shrugged. “Death Eaters, I think. Sirius and I were chasing them. But they’re hard to catch, if you know what I mean.” He scooted over on the bench he was on. “Sit down, love. Drink some butterbeer and calm down.”
“Calm down? Calm down? You two could’ve been killed!” Lily screeched. “And now Dumbledore is going to, if someone from the Order doesn’t! You were being stupid.”
“Keep your voice down,” Sirius said, his voice level.
“You boys think this war is all fun and games, don’t you?” she hissed, sitting down next to James. She gulped down a good quarter of his butterbeer.
“No,” Sirius said, but he was suppressing a grin.
“Just sometimes,” James added. Lily gave him a glare, but he just returned it with a kiss.
“What were the Death Eaters doing, anyway?” Lupin asked. “Do you know?”
James rubbed the back of his neck. “I think it was all a trap to get the two of us killed. The Death Eaters knew we’d blindly follow them, so they led us to the police car. Soon, we had a tail. The Death Eaters disappeared, so we focused on getting rid of the police. The wretches knew we’d make a wrong turn somewhere. Either that or ride into the sky, where they’d ambush us. You were right, Lily. We should be dead.” James glanced at her. “We’ll be more careful next time.”
“Good. But what are you going to do now? Those police men…what happens if they tell about what they saw?”
James shook his head sadly. “You know the way police work, Lily. The Death Eaters were unconscious. That means they were easily taken into custody. The second they awoke, though, you know what happened.”
“They’re…they’re dead?”
Sirius nodded.
“I don’t believe it. Maybe they haven’t woken up yet—”
“It’s too late, Lily,” Remus said. “You know it is. But soon this will all be over. Voldemort can’t reign forever. We’ll stop him.”
“No one more should have to die,” Lily whispered, her long red hair framing her determined face. “No one else will die. Not for this.”

Bekah Joan


four ways writers are like time lords


  • We travel around in TARDISes (what exactly is the plural of TARDIS? Anyone know?), which are either Microsoft Word documents or notebooks or our strange minds. Of course, because of their word content and the stories they hold, they're bigger on the inside.
  • We have two hearts. One for real life and one for characters. They're both broken often. The real life one is because we see normal people and instantly start creating their backstories. We see (well...sometimes see, mostly make up. Although we'd like them to be, our skills of deduction are NOWHERE near Sherlock Holmes's) their pain, their loss, their happiness, etc. Our heart gets broken all the time. Our character hearts get shattered so often because, well, we're awful people. We cause our characters so much pain, let them start the slow healing process, and then evilly slaughter them. In front of their friends. Time Lords don't do that, obviously. They're the friends. They're the ones who always watch people die. Their hearts get broken. But so do writer's. It's not like we actually have fun killing off our characters.
  • We can travel through time (in our own stories). But not just what the readers get to see. Our stories never stop. They start with the first ancestor and keep going generation after generation. We just travel throughout that specific story and decide what we want to try to describe and then maybe publish. And yes, readers can travel too, but they aren't Time Lords. They're more like companions. Why? TimeLords (writers) can see the fixed points in time (in our stories). We can change other stuff, but we know what to leave alone, and we usually do. But the other stuff? That gets changed all the time. All. The. Time. 
  • We're goofy. And fantastic. And brilliant. And we usually like bow ties, because they're cool. (Sorry, sorry. Enough cheesy Doctor Who jokes.)

Bekah Joan
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