When All Else Fails, Drink Purple Tea

I felt so lazy this morning. Slept in, got up late, did not want to do anything. I thought about going back to sleep, but I knew I'd get in trouble. So I drank purple tea. Strangely, it worked.

Have I mentioned how much I love my youth group? Because really, it's pretty amazing. We had a lot of fun last night. In my last post I talked about Disciple Now, which is just a weekend where all of the people who are attending are broken up into small groups. Each group spends the weekend at the house of a family from church, and we have small groups and big sessions with everyone. Last night almost all of my DNow group was at youth group, and most of the time we hung out and played games. Like I said, it was fun.

Can chickens sense your fear? Yes, I know that horses can, and I think that dogs can, but can chickens tell when you're terrified of getting pecked? And it's a real fear. Chickens are scary. Scary and mean.

A few days ago, I found Gollum the Toad. He was super cute, in a slimy-Gollum-toad sort of way. I named him Gollum, but then I gave him to my little sisters and they named him Toadster. I thought they said Toaster, and I still think that Toaster is a much more clever and witty name for a toad than Toadster. Can you tell how photogenic he is? Was... maybe he's dead now?




I had a Juicy Drop Pop last night. Never again. Those things are yuck yuck yuck. During DNow we talked about Juicy Drop Pops, and everyone thought that Ali made them up. Last night a friend brought three to youth group, so I had my first Juicy Drop Pop. I also got some on my shirt, in my hair, and on the floor. Clearly too messy for me!

Exactly what's on my mind: Liz, one of the old leaders from youth group, wrote this today, and that's kind of how I'm feeling about this summer:

"As far as I can tell, life is a constant flow of hellos and goodbyes.

"I’m writing this in the union, sitting at a booth near the Jumping Bean with my friend Laura. When I get nostalgic like this, I find myself paying attention to details that I know will soon be gone. Is there a way we can live where we pay attention to those details all the time? Where we know that at any moment we will have to say goodbye to one person or place so that we can say hello to another? I want to live each day with anticipation of what God will do, even if that means saying goodbye. I trust that the goodbyes are worth the hellos – and vice versa."

It's a weird thought that this time in June everything will be totally different, and really, I can't wait.