Like a Child

I love people. I really do. Men and women, teenagers and the elderly, all are beautiful, all are deserving of undying love. But I have always had a special place in my heart for children.

Children. As I write the word, I smile. I remember all the beautiful, young, smiling faces that I've had the privilege to encounter. I hear their laughter and their little off-beat songs and my heart is full of happiness. I love children.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that I could go on for days talking about all the reasons why. Their innocence, their lack of fear, their willingness to say what everyone else is only thinking regardless of who it may offend - there is so much that we have to learn from them. But I am here today to write about one specific thing that I adore about children, one superpower of theirs that has always blown my mind: their ability to love.

They don't do much of anything halfway and love is no exception. They love you or they don't, all the way or not at all, and you always know what side they're on. Now, I certainly believe that it is our job to love all people because all people are deserving of it. But there's something to be said about the way they love.

It doesn't take a lot to convince a kid to love you. Say something encouraging or sneak them a piece of candy and they are sold on the belief that you are the greatest thing to ever walk the face of the planet. And they will do handstands (sometimes literally) to show you how much they love you. They will tell you how great you are and defend you against anyone who would dare to even imply otherwise. They draw you pictures and bring you adorable little crafts that they make or doodads that they find, if only because they were thinking of you when they made or found them. And they know you are capable of doing absolutely anything.

When a child loves you, they see only the best in you. They may recognize the fact that you are flawed, but they don't really notice or even care very much. They know that people are inherently good and they believe that everyone has the potential to be the best possible version of themselves at all times. They tell you all about how good you are. And it doesn't matter how much of a jerk you are or how badly you hurt them, they will leap at the chance to forgive you and continue to show you love.

This is the thing I love best about children: how they manage to love unconditionally. Even if they are rejected or broken or talked down to, they still manage to find within their little hearts the ability to love. This concept is foreign to the majority of the adult population. When is it that this remarkable gift gets kicked out of us? Somewhere along the line, children get a heavy dose of "reality", they learn to fear, they cease to dream, and they forget about how everyone deserves unconditional love.

If a five-year-old girl was to dance up to her mother (because when are little girls not dancing?) and tell her that she had fallen in love with a boy, her mother's response would likely be to tell her daughter that she had no idea what she was talking about.

"You're just a child."

"You're too young."

"You don't even know what love is."

But nothing could be farther from the truth. If children don't understand love, and know how to do it the right way, then I will be so bold as to say that no one does.  Love is sacrifice. It's an action. It's a gosh-darned choice and it has nothing to do with whether or not you "understand" it. There is no simpler concept in the world to grasp than that of love.

Who was it that Jesus said was the greatest? We are to become like little children, humble, honest, and overflowing with the capability to love. If everyone did this, if we all took some time to model our behavioral tendencies slightly more after children, the world would be a far more pleasant place to live.

I want to figure out how to do that again. I want to be able to forgive and forget and serve and love with the grace of a child. I think all adults could benefit greatly from doing he same.

My Very Own Heroes

For Thanksgivings past, I typically have written an extensive, prettily-worded list of things that I am thankful for. I make sure I include little things and big things. But this year I'm taking a different route. I assume you all know by know that I am thankful for my Designer and my home, for symphony and adventure. So this year I'm going to go into a bit more detail about two things that I have been beyond blessed with:

My two best friends, Mel and Dallas.

I'll be honest, this year was hard. I dealt with so much betrayal and heartache. This February I was depressed to the point of being suicidal. But my Father rescued me and he used these gorgeous people to do so.

Let me start with Mel, the gorgeous, brilliant world-changer, my partner in crime, my co-future-crazy-chicken-lady (because cats are too mainstream), the Lola to my Charisma. We've known each other since I moved to Colorado in fourth grade and have been best friends since seventh. I witnessed all of her highs and lows and she celebrated with me and helped me through all of mine. Nine years have gone by since that first hello and she still has remained faithful, has never left my side, and oftentimes was the only person I felt that I could truly trust. I owe everything to her.

She's undoubtedly one of the strongest women I have ever met. The amount of crap she has endured over the course of her eighteen years is more than anyone should have to deal with in two lifetimes. She is a leader who seeks after her Father's heart like no one else I have ever seen. She is absolutely gorgeous, radiating Holy Spirit light through her every pore, loving in spite of being hurt, forgiving in spite of being kicked to the curb, and dancing in spite of the difficulty to hear the music at times. She has never allowed the world to make her hard and remains a hopeless romantic with a gentle and quiet spirit that is all too uncommon among today's women. She is such an inspiration to me.

Then there's Dallas, the passionate, beautiful history-maker, my pirate ship's first mate, my co-revolutionary, the Adalos to my Adara. We met two years ago when he joined the cast of a play I was a part of and he has blown my mind since day one. I won't lie, our relationship has been rocky and we have endured our share of trial and tribulation. But at the end of the day, I know I can always count on him. He has used letters and text messages to encourage me and sought me out when I was at my darkest. He opened my eyes to the truth that I am beautiful and helped me fight off every lie that has tried to take me down. I have been blessed by my relationship with him.

He's absolutely brilliant, though he would never say so. He's got so many great ideas on how to fix the city, help the nation, change the world. He's been hurt more than he deserves and has somehow managed to remain hopeful nonetheless. He's passionate - oh, so very passionate - and has a heart that pulses in time with that of our Designer. He's a sucker for a great story or a beautiful song, an artist and a musician whose talent is superb, and a leader with wisdom beyond his years. He's a lover and a fighter who isn't afraid to rebel against the societal norm and makes plans for when - not if - he will change the world. He makes me want to be a better version of myself.

I love them. My gosh, I couldn't even begin to put into words how much I love them. Both are God-sent, both are heroes, both are already shaking the foundations of the world with their fire and their love. I am beyond proud to claim them as my own.

I promise you, they are going to change the world. They've already changed mine.

Remember When

Remember when I made stars and painted the sky and crafted clouds and swirled together galaxies? I did that because I knew how you would love to look up.

Remember how I wrote the laws of quantum mechanics and stitched together molecules and composed the musical scale and inspired mathematics? I did that because I knew how you would love to learn.

Remember how I created humans with flexible joints and strung together symphonies and molded eardrums and carved feet? I did that because I knew how you would love to dance.

Remember how I rode into Jerusalem and experienced rejection and took thirty-nine lashes and endured an excruciating death? I did that because I knew it would hurt you to do it yourself.

Remember how I conquered death and sent My Spirit and commissioned you and gave you authority? I did that because I knew how you would want to change your world.

I love you. Oh, how extravagant is My love for you, My warrior princess, My exquisite rebellion, My Adara. Every time your lungs fill with air it is because I breathed the words "I love you" over you. Every time you encounter someone beautiful it is because I set them in your path to bring you joy. Every time you catch yourself laughing or smiling for no reason it is because you are receiving a taste of My overwhelming delight in you.

You are My pride, you are My joy, you are the reason for My sacrifice. And I adore you, Beloved. I love you more than life.

You are everything to Me. And I would do all of that over and over again to make you understand. You lack nothing. You are flawless. You are nothing short of wonderful and I love you endlessly. More than you could ever comprehend.

So come awake, Brave Soul. Step out of the dark and into the downpour that is My adoration for you. I want you to experience all I have to give. I want to do life with you.

I hold out My scarred hand and ask for you to grab onto it. Escape your cage, Songbird, and take the freefall. I will always catch you. I will always love you. I will never walk away.

I promise.

All my love,
Papa

Something So Beautiful: Passions

There is something so beautiful about people and their passions. Those talents and loves that individuals possess are some of the things that make them the most striking in contrast with one another. Your passions are the things that make you a standout. They make you wonderful. They make you more alive.

Listening to people talk about things that they are passionate about is fascinating. Or rather, watching people talk about things they are passionate about is fascinating. Their eyes light up. Their heartbeat becomes quicker and occasionally skips like an old, well-worn Van Halen record. Their words spill out faster and trip over each other and get jumbled up and meshed together because they are just so excited that they can't possibly formulate grammatically correct sentences. They stop caring if you're actually listening to them, and sometimes forget you are there. All that they can focus on is this thing that is on their mind, this one, wild, random thing that most people mistake for ordinary.

Baseball statistics.

Middle-Eastern foreign affairs.

A seven-hundred-and-three page Russian novel by an author whose last name is impossible for you to pronounce.

It doesn't matter what it is or even if you care at all. They rant and ramble and run-on until some sharp slap of reality reminds them that they have been going on for twenty minutes and they stop because they don't want to be rude. But you wish they wouldn't. Because when people talk about things they are passionate about they sparkle.

Watching people do the things they love is just as fantastic. They lose themselves in their craft - almost become one with it. And when they are ink-stained or paint-splattered or brain-dead because they have devoted everything to their passion, they rise up and look at you with that silly five-year-old-esque grin that says, "Look!"

"Look what I made!"

"Look what I did!"

"Look what I created!"

"Isn't it beautiful?"

And you have no choice but to smile, laugh, and nod your head yes. Because you know that encouraging passions is the best way to bring light into the world.

Whether you are a sculptor or a wide-receiver, a composer or an engineer, a thespian or an equestrian, your passions make our temporary home so much brighter, so much happier. And so much more beautiful.

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I think this post is a good way to round out the Something So Beautiful mini-series. Thank you all so very much for embarking with me on this journey! I may occasionally post more under this category so keep an eye out.

Cheers!

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Sooo . . . Google Friend Connect is going away.

*runs away and cries*

*dries tears, sniffling*

*timidly returns*

But! Thankfully, you can still follow me via Bloglovin. I ask that you please do! Just click the link below if you care to be updated on my adventures!

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Something So Beautiful: Dancing

There is something so beautiful about people when they dance. They don't even have to be very good at it. The act of dancing - of moving one's body in time with the pulses of the music (whether heard or imagined) - is like a physical manifestation of freedom. It's raw. It's alive. It's vulnerable. It's beautiful.

Choreographed dancing is one thing. When two bodies mesh and somehow become extensions of each other; when a mass of performers manages to tap with the same rhythm; when one free soul bends and contorts into impossible pretzel-like formations and makes it look effortless - this is the definition of exquisite. The amount of energy and time and practice and pain that goes into perfecting a single piece is almost unmatched anywhere else. Dancers put themselves through hell and push themselves far beyond society's physical limitations and make what they do look easy. Dancing is not easy. Dancing is brave.

Then there are those hidden moments when you catch someone dancing who believes they are alone. People tend to be more reckless when they are alone and that shows so much when they dance. They don't really care how they look or what tricks and flips they can do. All they care about is how the music makes them feel. And it brings such an inexplicable joy to their hearts that they can't help but move in time.

But my favorite kind of dancing is when it's done as a form of worship. An overpowering sense of how much the Designer loves us completely sweeps someone over and they don't know what else to do but dance. They forget who else is in the room, what they aren't capable of, and how ridiculous they look. The only thing on their mind is the agape that is shared between Father and child and how they wish more than anything to express it.

The temple comes alive. The threadbare carpet becomes a stage. And the dozens of pairs of eyes that look on all melt into the background. The worshiper is performing for an audience of One. And it is so indescribably beautiful.

Done

I interrupt this Something So Beautiful mini-series to bring you a major update on my life.

I, Charity Segovia, after much trial and exhaustion and heartache and work and mental fatigue have finally graduated high school.

*does happy dance*

I've been counting down to this glorious occasion since I first stepped into that school wearing an awkward maroon-colored polo shirt and a pair of gray corduroy pants. I've stayed up past ungodly hours to do homework on countless nights and analyzed and scrutinized literature of all different genres and even wrote and illustrated a children's book in French and now I am done. And it just doesn't seem real.

Last Friday I dawned a cap and gown and a pair of hot pink, six-inch, platform pumps. Last Friday I crossed the stage and shook hands with five people, most of whom I've never met. Last Friday I turned my tassel and popped my foot for an overly-enthusiastic picture with my diploma and just like that it was over. I was graduated. I was done.

It all seemed very anti-climactic to me. I was expecting bells to sound and fireworks to go off and some heavenly choir to burst into an extravagant rendition of the Hallelujah Chorus. I expected to feel different. I didn't. All I felt was relief.

I have a feeling that it's going to take me a while to process the fact that I never have to don that atrocious uniform or wake up at a reasonable hour anymore. Sure, I'm going to start my new job cleaning houses at Small Planet soon, so there will be a uniform and need to rise before 9am, but it's not quite the same thing. My days of mandatory education are over. Last Friday was the first day of my life as an adult.

Overall, high school was an adventure. It was way harder than I would have liked. And I could pick out any number of events that didn't go according to plan. But I made some great memories. I made some beautiful friends. And I made it. Not much more can be said.

Everything is going to change now. I'm going to start working and I'm going to have free time and soon enough society is going to be expecting me to get married. Gah.

But if there was one thing I learned during high school, one thing I will take away, one lesson that I know will benefit me for the rest of my life, it's to run to Jesus. And everything else will follow suit from there.

I raise my iced passionfruit tea lemonade to all those who helped me survive this time of my life and to my Designer, who I know will continue to do just that. Cheers, folks.

I've got life to live.

Something So Beautiful: Laughing

 

There is something so beautiful about people when they laugh. When they really let loose and just laugh. Full abandon, no hesitation, no consideration of who may be watching or listening or what they may think. Just laughing.

It is a rare occurrence when I see someone laugh - truly laugh - without holding back. But when I am lucky enough to witness such a stunning feat, I can't help but take a moment to stop and watch them. The way a person can be so vulnerable just by laughing is breathtakingly beautiful. And I wish more than anything that I could see it more often.

There are so many different kinds of laughs. The loud, the snorting, the deep, the high-pitched, the ones that actually say "hee-hee." All are unique to a certain individual and all have a specific beauty to them.

I fall in love with people in those moments when I really see them laugh. Laughing is an expression of abandon, of freedom, of pure, unalterable joy. Laughing is contagious. It's freeing. It's beautiful. And it is in times of laughter that all else fades away, that trials and negativity are forgotten, and that connection is made between people without a word needing to be said.

It is in times of laughter that one's true self is revealed. And that true self is beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

Something So Beautiful: Sleeping

There is something so beautiful about people when they sleep. It's not really easy to explain. They just slip out of their exhausting facades and into a place of peace. The pressures that the world puts on them are loosed and every burden drops from their shoulders to the ground. They are so vulnerable, so sweet, so quiet. It's hard to be mad at them because they look so harmless. But inside their heads, this is not the case.

Inside their heads they are explorers and magicians and artists and revolutionaries. Every goal they've never been unable to reach becomes something they can accomplish. Everything they've ever desired becomes attainable. Inside their heads they wage war against phantom armies and sail great triple-masted ships and fall in love.

Someone once told me never to fall in love with those in my dreams unless I know how to dream and find them again. And I agree. I think it's a solid piece of advice. But I also think that's a very difficult thing to ask of anybody. The people in dreams are powerful and beautiful and they compliment your personality perfectly. They're so fantastic because they are exactly what you want even if you don't know you want it.

When people dream they are capable of anything. They can conquer nations and save lives and change the world. And maybe that's why they're so beautiful when they sleep. You see them as they truly are - indefinable, extraordinary, infinite. And so inexplicably beautiful.

Something So Beautiful: An Introduction

Hello my lovelies! I've missed you so. And I've kind of hit a wall when it comes to writing. But! Thanks to a certain best friend of mine falling asleep on my couch, I have come up with a solution to my extended periods of absence.

A mini-series.

You heard me. But I'm not talking like one of those lame, cheesy, predictable (and historically inaccurate) mini-series things you find on Hallmark or PBS. This is a writer's mini-series and I'm really excited to see how it'll turn out.

I've been realizing recently about how beautiful people are. All their quirks and flaws and idiosyncrasies weaved together by dreams and goals and stuffed with perfections and imperfections make up everyone around us. And there is something so irrevocably stunning about all of them.

*Background information*

My darling friend fell asleep on my couch recently and as I watched him fall asleep I started to think about how truly, uniquely beautiful people are. I couldn't really explain it at the time. So I did what all writers do: picked up a notebook and started writing about the thoughts in my head. And thus the mini-series was born.

*End background information*

I'm calling this series Something So Beautiful and it will go something like this. Every week or so, I will come on here and post a new installment of the series. Each post will be centered on a topic - something about people that I think is so very beautiful. This is going to be a learning experience for me so I ask for your patience. But I'm really excited to see where this goes and I hope you'll join me on this new adventure of my life as a writer.

The first  post will be up soon.

Cheers!