Well, I’m back! And will be doing a 30 Day Photo Challenge, if I am up to the task. Here are the pictures you’re supposed to do each day.
Tada!
And here is today’s picture: Peace. 
One Skirt, Three Days, Day Three! April 29, 2012
I love Sundays. And today was a special Sunday. Dr. Richard Pratt gave a guest sermon at my church, about how the reason we are given blessings is so that we are better able to bless others. And then Dr. George Grant and his lovely wife came over for lunch after church! We had good conversations, good food (I can say that because my sisters helped a lot) and even whipped out the Nerf guns and went on an alligator hunt. We have one that lives across the street from us. No big deal.
Here is my last outfit! If I had my druthers (no idea what that phrase means) I would have worn a more colorful headcovering, but the official Saint Andrew’s Chancel Choir Handbook states that choir members that cover their heads must use dark colors. Yes, they made the rule specifically for me.
Tank: Target
Shrug: Target (kind of a fan, yes.)
Earrings: Target
Flower: Claires
And I bid you adieu with this quote that was a good reminder to me.
If you lack knowledge, go to school. If you lack wisdom, get on your knees! Knowledge is not wisdom. Wisdom is the proper use of knowledge.
~Vance Havner
Helpful, especially as finals week is approaching with astounding rapidity. Eep!
Three Days, One Skirt, Day Two! April 28, 2012
Happy Saturday, fwiends! (As my two year old brother would say.) Somewhat related, Donovan keeps randomly yelling “JEFFREY, JEFFREY!” and I can’t figure out why. It would be somewhat explainable if we knew somebody named Jeffrey. But we don’t. So I shall figure it out, like a detective. All I need is a bubble pipe. Today, I went to Barberville! What’s that, you ask? Basically food, dancing, music, friends, and barefootness. My favorites. Here’s my outfit for today-I kinda like it, but I’ve had a couple people already say they don’t. It’s definitely not *super* figure flattering, but I like it because it’s funky. These pictures were taken pre-sweat and mud. Eh-heh.
Shirt: I can’t remember.
Skirt: JCP
Earrings: Target
Necklace: used to be Moms
I love how green everything has been. Spring came kinda late.
I’ve loved seeing the things y’all have come up with! Now to wash this skirt before church tomorrow, it is covered in sweat and tears. The tears you get from laughing really hard. Jean Marie is hilarious.
One Skirt, Three Days, Day One April 27, 2012
Well, I am a spontaneous creature. I shy away from fashion blogging because it seems most people have it covered already, and because I don’t strike myself as particularly fashion-conscious. But! When this event popped up, hosted by Olivia and others, in correlation with my wanting to get back into blogging, *and* trying to figure out a way to do less laundry, naturally I was on board.
The premise is simple, one skirt (or piece of clothing) worn three different ways, today, tomorrow, and Sunday. I have picked a skirt/dress, I’m wearing it as a dress today, and who knows where the Spirit will lead tomorrow. *grin* 
Behold! Le skirt! Or dress! It’s one of my favorites, but I don’t wear it too often. How’s that for sensible? Delaney took these, she’s awesome. “Delaney! I need you to take pictures of me!” “Uh, why?” “For a blog post!” “But…you never blog!” See, I have a reputation and everything. Alas.
I am clearly the most professional model in history. Or I was thinking about food. Likely the latter.
Shirt: JCP
Skirt/Dress/Whatevs: Belk.
Earrings: Walmart.
Shoes: Payless.
Flower: Claires.
Fun times! Thanks for hosting, Olivia!
Of road rage, culottes, and teenyboppers. March 5, 2012
My friend Melissa and I were gadding about in the thriving metropolis of Sanford the other day, and since one’s options are limited when in the confines of a car, we talked. After we finished discussing how I can fix my road rage, and how Zac Efron is excessively overrated, we latched onto the topic of things that are wrong with the church today. (By the way, friends that you can have such varied conversation with are *amazing.* I highly recommend finding one.)
Disclaimer: We weren’t exactly referring to the Body of Christ at large, but more the circles we run in. Van driving, homeschooling, Presbaptist, gun toting, pants around your armpits people. Who, for the record, we love dearly. This post is not intended to bash anybody in particular, and is somewhat ironic, in fact, because I have been *so* guilty of what I’m about to discuss, and still am, in fact.
A big issue that we found ourselves coming back to was this: Legalism. This shouldn’t surprise anybody. But there are different ways of talking about legalism. When I tell the women down at the abortion mill they shouldn’t be murdering their children, they call me a legalist. No. Standing on the law and promises and word of God is not legalistic in the least. Just throwing that out there. Still, judgments of charity, and remembering God’s grace in our own lives are important.
So I define legalism as this, partially. Looking down on someone/castigating (fun word)/shunning someone because they don’t ascribe to the same extra-biblical convictions that you do.
One example would be pants. I love skirts. I wear skirts 80% of the time. I have been known however, from time to time, to slip on a pair of jeans. Sometimes it’s necessary, sometimes I just want to. And there are people out there who will tell you it’s a sin to do so, or people who will (sometimes unwittingly) look down on you for not dressing like they do. I was more often the second one, which is just as dangerous.
Another example is music. I love choral music, and hymns, and psalms. But that is by no means the extent of my iTunes library. I have everything from rock to country to even a little hip-hop. Though I’m not a big advocate of the latter, it encourages spontaneous dancing, and most of you would be better off doing that in solitude. 
I’ve had people (publicly) give me grief over this. I understand that music carries a message, but if a girl mentions kissing her boyfriend in a fleeting line in a song, that doesn’t mean that all her music should be trampled on and we should burn her guitar.
These things are *personal* convictions. It’s completely fine to have them. I have many of them myself. But the minute you think you’re better than another person because of them, or you think you earn God’s favor with them, you’re off base.
Let me tell you about one of my best friends/role models. Sheryl is married, and has 4 fantastic children. She’s practically my neighbor, and one of the Sprouls is always at the Stiemanns, or vice versa. I don’t even ask what my sisters’ plans on Friday nights are anymore.
If Sheryl went into a church in my circles, there would be people there that would look down on her. Because she wears pants, and listens to the Foo Fighters. She and I have had conversations about this too, and it baffles us. She and I have been prone to legalism as well, and I’m still struggling with it, so the conversations we have about it are real and helpful.
But you know what? Sheryl is truthfully the kindest person I have ever met. I’ve never heard her say an unkind word about anybody, she has the most giving soul, the biggest smile, and the most humble/eager to learn and grow mind. She is an amazing woman, and people who are judging petty things are really missing out when they steer clear of people like her. It’s completely absurd.
So think about this. What ways are you specifically, or maybe unwittingly, judging people for things that aren’t laid out in Scripture? I for one, promise not to look at a girl with multiple piercings and immediately break out my high and mighty face. Lord, let me show others as much grace and love as You have shown me. 
The only time people dislike gossip is when it’s about them. February 4, 2012
Everybody! Or rather, everybody who’s reading this. Which alas, probably doesn’t include C.S. Lewis, James Franco, or Alistair Begg. But y’all are awesome too! Never fear.
I’m reading this book, it’s called “The Tipping Point.” It’s talking about how social epidemics get started, what makes crime rates decline, basically how big movements get to be big movements. It’s fascinating. Not only is it fascinating, but I enjoy it. You see, no matter how horrid the book, I still find it fascinating, I don’t know why. I read a horrid book earlier this week, and I am still thinking about the different ideas and concepts it provoked.
Maybe that’s a grieving thing? I don’t know. I know that right before and after my Mom passed away, my sense of smell was insanely strong. Which is odd, because usually I have to be told by ten different people that the two year old needs a diaper change. Maybe it’s the same way with my brain. At any rate, I have so many discombobulated thoughts floating around in my brain, I thought I’d write! Zippitydoodah.
Back to The Tipping Point. (Have you ever been cow tipping? It’s on my bucket list.)
One of the things it talked about was people that are called Connectors. Basically like they sound, they’re very useful for networking and all that. Now, I don’t consider myself a networker, but I do consider myself to share many of the attributes of a Connector. A Connector is outgoing (check) knows a LOT of people (check) and is particularly proficient at small talk. (Check.)
The book went on to talk about how Connectors don’t have many close friends, because they prefer to stick to the surface level with their acquaintances.
Don’t get me wrong, I have close friends. Super close friends. Friends I would take a bullet for, and that I love to pieces. *counts* About 7, actually, which I consider to be a good number. But thinking about it made me realize, my friends are either intensely close, or pretty surface levely. There are a few exceptions, but for the most part this is the case.
Why do you suppose that is? Is it merely my personality? I don’t think so. I propose this-there are any number of reasons that you might not become close friends with somebody. Incompatibility, not much time together, just never getting around to it, not making an effort, etc.
But I think a lot of times, it boils down to one thing: Distrust. Not necessarily distrust of that particular person, but distrust of humankind in general.
That’s how it is for me, anyway. I’ve grown way too close to way too many people that ended up hurting me deeply, and I’m ashamed to say I’ve been on the other end of it as well. (Did I use to/too correctly in all those instances?)
Gossip, y’all. Gossip stinks. (Homeschooler word right there) And I don’t see it being addressed to the extents that it needs to be, by me, or by anybody. Don’t get me wrong, it is *not* my intention to point fingers here. I’m as guilty of gossip as anybody is, shamefully. That’s partially why I’m aware of the incredible problem it is. It’s so easy to say “Oh, did you hear about so and so?” followed by the eyebrow raise that says “I’m not saying it’s true or not, but maybe it is.”
And people don’t talk about this. All that seems to get talked about is the need to dress modestly and act with pure conduct. Both important things, mind you. But is that it? Do we put on a long skirt and think we’re automatically holy? I know I have. But in my experience, the longer the skirt, the greater the doublesidedness of the person.
Darby, (and anybody else reading this) modesty is important. Not giving people a reason to distrust you is just as important. Think about the times you’ve been on the receiving end. Think about how much it hurts. Don’t say something about somebody unless it needs to be said. And I mean really really needs to be said.
Of overalls, mud, and beauty. January 27, 2012
My childhood was incredible. I can’t even imagine how it could have been any happier. I frolicked, for lack of a better word. (That one makes me sound somewhat…hmm. Like a lamb?)
I had a best friend, too. I still have him, we just don’t get to spend every second together anymore. My brother and I traipsed through the woods 24/6, getting holes in our jeans, digging holes, trying to reach water because we had read a story about a missionary in Africa who had done this. (Okay, we were also weird kids.)
I read. My goodness, did I read. Virtually every classic I come across now, I remember it in a haze, because I read it when I couldn’t even touch the floor with my feet from the pew. This always aggravated me, and was probably my biggest life worry. When would I be big and tall? Every book I came across, I loved as though it were my child. If it was a sad story, I cried, but I almost took pleasure in my sadness, because it was of such a beautiful sort.
I rode my bike down our driveway every day to wait patiently for the mailman. He laughed at me every time he saw me, in an affectionate sort of way. I imagine I was somewhat of a sight, between the mud and the hair bows that Mom always made me wear. When there was mail for me, it was better than Christmas.
I remember the first time somebody told me I was beautiful. I had been running around outside on Sunday night, with my friends from church. This was a weekly occurrence, after Bible study on Sunday night, the old people would sit around and talk about recipes and philosophy, and we fortunate young ones would play Freeze Tag in the dark, getting stitches in our sides and remaining hopelessly out of breath.
I came inside from one such excursion, and my dad’s best friend said to me “Darby, you look more beautiful than anybody in a magazine.” I didn’t understand. My braids were falling out, I was covered in mud, I wasn’t wearing any shoes, my cheeks were red,I was missing more than a few teeth, and my glasses were fogged up. Why did he say that? Didn’t he understand what beautiful meant? Beautiful meant those ladies that wore high heels and lipstick and smelled pretty.
Now I understand. Beauty is joy. Unbridled, infectious joy. I strive every day to take that away from my childhood. Things change, I change, life reveals new and different things every day, but I never want to lose sight of this truth. Every day I wake up and pray and hope that I can try to get back to that beauty that I exhibited on that day, so many years ago. Some days it’s easy, some days it’s nigh impossible. But the more I realize how much I have been given, the more naturally it flows. I hope that I remain as a child in this way for always.
What I’ve Learned December 31, 2011
So. The year 2011 is winding down to a close, and I thought it would be a good idea to be excessively cliche and write about what nuggets of wisdom I have gleaned over the past year. Without further ado, I shall proceed. *ahem* *clears throat*
1. Ron Paul eats babies. While he brews marijuana (okay, confession time. I have no idea how marijuana is packaged, processed, or used. So that was probably a bad illustration. Moving on.) and knits swastika doilies.
2. Wanna-be hipsters hang out at Starbucks. Bona fide hipsters don’t, because they don’t drink coffee, that’s what the proletarian masses are for. If you are on a hipster hunt, check the nearest store that sells V-necks. Pro tip.
3. If you want to become famous, write a song about a day of the week. Wednesday would be a good choice, although more things rhyme with Friday. Make an equally absurd music video, and the laudatory praises of all around you will be echoing in your ears for years to come. With a few death threats possibly mixed in.
4. There are people actually out there (Sheltered children, hide your eyes, for my desire is to protect you) who think that the Princess Bride is, *cringe* silly. INCONCEIVABLE! This is somewhat akin to hating puppies, or rainbows, or even butterflies. You have my permission to hate unicorns, as they are somewhat prone to effeminacy and stabbing people in the liver. But leave my beloved story alone, or I shall have at you.
5.All you need to do is have a catchy slogan about ninety-nine and percent and power to the people, and you can pee in the streets of New York for months, all while demanding that those who have the decency to practice common hygiene should pay for your college education.
6. When you make meatloaf, it is important to know what you are doing. Unless you would like to go through three smoke detector batteries in a single day, burn through seven pot-holders, have the fire department banging on the door trying to rescue you, and land yourself on the front page of the Orange County Times. Complete with pictures of your singed epidermis.
7. If you want the greatest pick-up line in history, be the guy that killed Bin Laden. Pretty sure all the girls in America would want a piece of that. But “Do you have a library card, because I’m checking you out!” is one that I am also partial to. (too? Argh, grammar are confusing.)
8. Raw milk is full of poison and bacteria and HARMFUL THINGZ. You would be much better off eating a Big Mac while driving around on your little wheelchair scooter thing, and feeling proud of yourself because you didn’t buy a McFlurry.
9. Freedom of speech is a beautiful and treasured aspect of what it means to be an American. Unless you are white, male, Christian, or an athlete. So basically you can say whatever you want on television, including profanities, but Tim Tebow had better keep to himself.
10.Vuvezelas. The number one cause of migraines since their inception. Seriously, do those things have a purpose other than that?
Okay, so those are some of the facetious and sarcastic things I learned, now it’s time for the real deal. 
1.In times of great tragedy, the Christian community comes together in wonderful ways, I can attest to this first hand, having been blessed immensely by everything that has been done for my family in the past year. Incredible.
2. Christian music that isn’t synthesized and a shoddy version of pop music is, in fact, possible. Primary example-Mumford and Sons. Beauty is one of God’s greatest gifts, and when we strive for beauty over coolness, we can make something that He would truly be proud of.
3. My Daddy taught me something very profound, when I was frustrated with someone who was far more conservative than I in certain areas, to the point of legalism, from my perception. He said “Darlin’, don’t pick on people to the right of us. They already have enough people to the left of us that are happy to tear them to shreds. Leave them alone, and be grateful that they have strong convictions.”
4. And my Mom taught me a multitude of things, but the main one was this-Always be looking for ways to serve others, even when you should, by all counts, be the one being served.
5. Romance novels (even the lightweight, Christian ones) can be just as damaging to girls as pornography is to guys. They breed discontentment, especially when you begin to wonder why your man doesn’t bring you home flowers every day, draw you a bath, give you a massage, whisper sweet platitudes in your ear, and sparkle, kind of like Edward McHandsomepants.
6. Modesty goes two ways. We are both responsible for our actions, the women for how we dress, and the men for how they look at us. It is not a one sided issue on either end. I’ve seen both ends focused on too strongly by themselves, when I think it is most definitely something that both genders are responsible for.
7. The friends that will do whatever is best for you even if it’s what they don’t want, or what is hard for you, are the true friends. The honest friends are the best ones.
8. Prayer and reading the Scriptures are simultaneously calming and convicting to me like never before. Maybe because 2011 has been the most frazzled year of my existence, which also makes it easy to excuse sin. A quick dip into the Psalms is vastly comforting, and reading a chapter of Proverbs or three will quickly remind me of my shortcomings and sins, all while never forgetting God’s amazing grace.
9. Read more. Read, read, read. I found my attention span markedly decreasing for a while, and wondered why, till I thankfully made the connection between that and the various electronic devices that are available for my amusement. One of my biggest and most daunting goals for 2012 is to read two books a week. (Aside from school, which has me reading 22 a semester or so as well.)
10. Relax. If you have the choice between cleaning the kitchen and having a tickle fight with the two year old, always pick the latter. He won’t always be two, and the dishes can wait. Deep breaths, ask what really matters, and don’t forget to laugh every once in a while. It’s good for your heart.
There you have it! I learned so much this year, by God’s grace and for His glory. I can’t wait to see what 2012 has to offer, as I walk down the path before me with my family and friends. God bless all of you, and Happy New Year! (Or Prosit Neujahr, as I like to say. Random foreign phrases are my schtick. Erin Go Bragh!)
So long, farewell December 27, 2011
I don’t like goodbyes. I would say I hate them, but teenage girls are far to prone to use the word hate when they don’t really mean it, as Rachel Lynde would say. And yet, I find myself often in situations where they are called for. I have been blessed in that I have traveled all over the country, attending various events and functions and making friends in the randomest of places. But the functions end, the 15 passenger vans get revved up, and everybody goes back home at some point. Hugs and email addresses are exchanged, with earnest promises to stay in touch. Goodbyes come as well, though I prefer to replace them with “See you soon.” I’ll see you soon, friend, whether it be at the next function, or at your wedding, or on the other side of heaven, I promise.
We come home, we put away all the books we found at the conference, we write the occasional email, and for the most part, we don’t keep in touch as well as we intended. We find ourselves wishing we had more time with our friends in real life, and it can be very easy to be discontented. After all, if only we could see each other more often, it wouldn’t be so easy to forget.
I said goodbye to someone dearer than anybody else in the world recently. Goodbye for a long time. Goodbye till I see her again in heaven. The last thing I told her was “I love you, and I’ll see you soon.” We’re all headed to the same place, friends, isn’t that immensely comforting? Keep that in mind when you’re lonely. We’ll all be together again, and I’ll see you all soon. I’m so very very excited.
Be the change you wish to see in the world (aka-Gandhi had some insight sometimes) June 7, 2011
Many of you know that I am not a huge fan of R.J. Rushdoony. (How’s that for a controversial opening statement?) Granted, the primary reason for my not running around like an emotional screaming teenage girl every time his name is mentioned is because I don’t scream. Ever. 
But the serious reasons I’ve never been his number one fan are-I am always wary of theologians that everybody reveres SO very highly that it often seems they take his words for the gospel. Also, I am not a fan of presuppositional apologetics, but that’s another story for another time.
I attended a worldview conference last week, and at the book table they were giving away free copies of a certain book. If you know me at all, I never pass up anything free,since I’m Scottish, and least of all when it’s a book. So I picked up a copy of this thin devotional, and lo and behold, it’s authored by Mr. Rushdoony.
“Oh!” I thought to myself. “I should probably read more of him, I certainly don’t *dis*like the man, or his theology, I respect him,and I think he’s done great things for the kingdom of God. So I will read this, and pray it will help me grow in grace.”
Wow. Let me tell you, I read the first devotional, and I’m still thinking about it and considering it, a week later. Enough that I’m writing a blog post about it, as you can see.
It talked about “the ultimate sin.” You’d think that it would be murder, or something that our culture reveres as serious, relativistic tendencies aside.
No ma’am/sir, not hardly. “Basic to the ultimate sin is the desire to reform others and to conform them to our ideas and hopes.” Wow. We Reformed people, especially, are guilty of this, are we not? If we could only get the Emergents to stop wearing skinny jeans and hipster glasses, we’ll change the world. If only we could get the Charismatics to stop waving their hands all over the place, we will see the return of Christendom in America. If only, if only, if only we could change everybody *else*, everything will be groovy.
I don’t think so. God calls us to first and foremost change *ourselves.* At the end of the day, who are you responsible for? You. Your sins, your actions, your every thought,word,and deed.
Certainly, we should be bold to proclaim the gospel to others, but when I look at myself I see a profound desire to focus on everybody’s problems before I look to my own heart. That’s not a positive thing.
Change begins from within, my friend. When you begin acting with patience,joy,and love, you will see those around you react in kind.
Currently Reading-My Cousin Rachael, The Birth of the Modern
Currently Rocking Out To:The Rising of the Moon-The High Kings
