Category archives: Nonfiction
letting the fields die
To heck with brevity. I know as a journalist I need to learn how to make the most impact with the fewest words, but as a storyteller I refuse to. God has been moving in these past few weeks, and… continue reading »
between the river and the ravens I’m fed
It’s really hard to write when nothing’s going on. I’m used to being fed up with something or obsessing over some new found philosophy I can write about for three blogs in a row. But not right now. School’s out,… continue reading »
idolatry.
I wonder if you remember my blog from September when I promised to do everything to the glory of God. I wrote: I want my college experience–my going-to-class, homework-ing, studying, note-taking–to be my spiritual act of worship. I decided that… continue reading »
heart is scarred by duel volition
I don’t know how to begin this blog. I really just have a lot of word vomit to throw at you all, but that way probably won’t be the most effective. I finished a piece for my magazine writing class… continue reading »
Do you love me?
When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you truly love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.” I love when… continue reading »
The Word
At my resident hall’s Christmas banquet, I received a “paper plate award” from my RA–something everyone in our dorm was granted as something both goofy and sentimental. The title and picture of the award, scrawled with crayons on a paper… continue reading »
I love/hate Christmas
“I hate Christmas.” After my mom confessed that truth, I marveled–slack-jawed–at the bitterness of her comment. How can anyone hate Christmas? Who hates candy canes, egg nog, corporate Christmas parties, jingle bells, stocking stuffers, Hallmark original movies, wearing red all… continue reading »
disillusioned
A few months ago I thought it’d be really cool to be disillusioned with the world. I wanted to be like a post-WWI expatriate or like Franny Glass from Salinger’s novel. I pictured myself in a bar drinking a Shirley… continue reading »
… but look on the bright side.
a poem. by Lauren. I had to give my speech this morning instead of Thursday … but some kid is buying me coffee to make up for it! The sound clips in my Thrice speech didn’t work … but some… continue reading »
the antiblog.
I used to be honest-gut honest-without fearing what people said or thought about me. When I was an underclassman in high school, I posted blogs about how much I loved God and how Satan sucked. (And I said it quite… continue reading »