The Truths We Don't Believe

I'm not sure when I fell in love with the Chronicles of Narnia, but I think it was sometime around six years old, when the first, non terrible BBC movie came out. But I really fell in love with Narnia when I was eight,  and in the Prince Caspian play at CATS. But I'm not here to talk about that.

When I first watched TLtWatW, I thought it was funny when Aslan called Edmund, King Edmund, the Just. This was because I didn't know that just actually meant fair, and not average. (Like, that's just a muffin, and not a cupcake. Get it? Good.) After my sister told me what just really meant, I didn't think much of it. Until today.

I've been super bored this week. As I said in my last post, I didn't end up going to NITOC this year, so I sat around watching OUAT and bad Disney channel movies. I really don't have any idea as to why I was thinking about Edmund the Just today, but it occurred to me:

Edmund probably didn't think he was just.

He had gone and betrayed his own family. He probably didn't even think he deserved to be king. At that moment, he wasn't feeling very just.

But that's what Aslan called him. Not only just, but king. The person lion who had just sacrificed himself for this traitor called him king. And I seriously doubt that Edmund felt deserving of those things. And, truthfully, he wasn't.

Aslan saw something in him that Ed couldn't see himself. Aslan, the great lion, the very embodiment of kingliness and justness, called someone who was a traitor those very things. And because Aslan said it, Edmund could believe it.

I got to thinking today, maybe we're the same way.

Before I got medals and trophies and green check-marks, I know that I was.

I didn't think I would ever be good at anything- seriously, that's exactly what I thought. I'll never be good at anything. At all. I would never as good at speech as my siblings. Never be as good at writing as my favorite authors. Never be good at singing or dancing or piano. I didn't compete when I was twelve because I was afraid. Afraid that I'd never be good enough.

The summer before my novice year of speech and debate, I went on a mission trip called MPACT. (You remember. Last year I got sent home.) A few weeks later, my awesome youth leader, Sarah, asked me to give a little two minute speech about my experience at MPACT. I had to get up in front of the church, on stage, and talk about how I had no friends. (Seriously.) I'm really bad at guessing numbers, so I won't. It's a small church, so there weren't a whole lot of people. I thought I'd be fine. Until, you know, the actually day that I was supposed to do it.

In the minutes leading up to my big speech, my stomach became an Olympic gymnast and my hands started sweating like the place was on fire. Shaking like the epicenter of my own earthquake, I walked on stage and stood in front of the microphone that was low enough for short little me. It took everything in me not to burst into tears and run off that stage. I looked at my dad and pressed through my story, sniffling and um-ing and trying not to pass out. The whole experience was a real shot to the heart of the little hope I had of ever achieving anything, forensics wise.

At least, I thought it was.

I was shaking like nobody's business. I was on the verge of tears. I was saying 'um' like there was no tomorrow. But despite all that, I was getting words out. I was pressing through it. I was swallowing those tears and clenching my fists. I fought through it.

Up on that stage, sniffling up a storm, I didn't feel it. I didn't look it. I didn't believe it.

I was brave.

I know dozens of speech and debaters who could've got up on that stage and delivered a flawless presentation. And now, nearly two years later, maybe I'm one of those CHSADKs. But I wasn't then.

When I couldn't believe it myself, God told me I was brave.

With a microphone, a bent up notebook, shaking hands and watering eyes, God whispered in my ear- brave.

Since my little MPACT speech, I've given countless more, in and out of tournaments. I've gotten fifth and belows, I've gotten firsts, I've even gotten an eighth. Even after all those speeches, all those tournaments, I still get nervous. My palms sweat like the ocean, my hands shake like San Fransisco, my heart pounds like I just ran three miles. But, every time, I get up there. I give my speech to the judges. Whether it's DI or OO or impromptu or TP. I stand up and speak. Sometimes I have to push through tears to do it. Sometimes I do it in slippers. But I do it. I don't always win. I don't always loose. But with every round, every ballot, every tournament, God whispers 'brave.' 

I guess I'm a little bit like Edmund. I would think that nothing good could come from me, because of my past failures. But God redeemed those failures, like Aslan did Edmund's. Aslan called Edmund just. God called me brave. What's He calling you?

Vote affirmative, even if you don't believe it. (Okay, that didn't make any sense, but whatever.)

NITOC This Year

My Facebook feed is crowded today.

I hadn't been on in a few days, mostly because my brother was making last minute rewrites on his OO for NITOC so I couldn't get on. But today I checked my Facebook and scrolled through the feed for a few minutes. And I swear, almost every other post was about NITOC or being in California for NITOC. I would be thrilled to read all these updates about arriving in Cali, being at the beach, and driving through the various states between Texas and CA. I would be thrilled but for one thing: I'm not going.

I qualified for nationals. I received my invitations for duo and TP.  But I'm not going, because my partners aren't going. (Kaleb, Emily: I'm not mad or upset with you guys. You're awesome.) I almost qualified in both DI and OO. Like, seriously. I was one/two spots away from getting another check in both events. So because of those spots, I'm not going to California.

Honestly, I've been looking forward to NITOC since last year's NITOC ended. Getting to spend a week with some of my best friends, debating, speaking, going to the beach. I was excited. And all this year, I've been looking forward to it. I was qualified in two events and I was going to California. I was going to spend the whole week with my friends.

But I'm not going. I'll be here, watching Disney movies and Once Upon a Time and eating ice-cream out of my impromptu trophy. (I would eat it out of my DI trophy, but it's a plaque and that would get messy.)

The worst part is feeling like I was just one place away from going. One rank, and I would be there. Truthfully, I'm disappointed. I would rather go to NITOC, and be in California with my friends. But that's what trust is, right? Believing that even when things don't seem right, God is working for good?

This isn't the first time something like this has happened to me. Last June, I got sick at MPACT and had to go home before I could actually do anything. So I should be used to it, right? (Hahaha NO.)

So I'll sit here and eat Nilla Wafers and cry over Flynn Rider. And hope some good will come out of this. (Besides ice-cream and Frozen.)

So don't stop posting your NITOC updates. I want to see how my friends are doing, how nats are going, and how nice the beach is. Just fill me in on all the inside jokes, okay?

Vote affirmative. It'll make me feel better about not going.

Happy Birthday!

Wait, what?

That's crazy. Impossible. Insane. Ridiculous. Inconceivable.

It's been a year? Yes, that is what it says.

It's been a year.

A year of crazy debate stories, long posts about tournaments, posts about writing, posts about trusting and speaking love, posts about the insanity of CHSADKs, weird spikes in the amount of views I get, amazing people and amazing moments.

Six thousand, one hundred, and sixty two views.

859 views on the post "You Know You're a Christian Homeschooled Speech and Debate Kid When..."

Fifty posts. Four Disney/Debate parodies. Twenty things I love about speech and debate. Kitkats, impromptu, and blogging.

But that's not what matters.

What matters is you.

Yes, you. My wonderful readers.

I couldn't have gotten 6100 views without you. I wouldn't have written fifty blog posts if it weren't for you. I wouldn't have kept going if it weren't for you.

Don't think that your view doesn't affect me. Every view I get makes me smile a little brighter. Every view I get makes me want to keep doing this.

Writing posts, making parodies, drawing stick-figures on paint. You make it all worth it.

Vote affirmative- then, every time you come back to this little blog with a weird name, that's exactly what you do. So, thank you very much.

You Have a Superpower

In a lot of those annoying quizzes that spam my Facebook feed, there's this question that goes: 'which of the following superpowers would you want to have?' Then it has things like flight, invisibility, telepathy, etc. etc. There's one power, however, that they miss.

It's a super power we all have, yet very few people realize it. We use our power every day- often without realizing it. It affects everyone around you, and everyone around you has it. We have access to this power almost all of the time. People everywhere are constantly using it, to bring life, and to bring death. And you and I are no exceptions. What is this superpower, this ability we all have, yet no one seems to know about?

Words.

I know what you're thinking. 'Words aren't a super power. They're just, you know, words.'

But they aren't just words. Proverbs 18:21 says 'the tongue has the power of life and death.' Your words have the ability to give people life and to bring people death. As Adrian Monk would say, 'it's a gift... And a curse.' There are tons of Bible verses talking about the power of words, and I could quote all of them. Here's another:

Proverbs 12:18 - Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the words of the wise bring healing.

We speak hundreds of words every. Single. Day. Every time we open our mouths to say something, we have the power to change people lives. So many people waste this power, talking trash about others, whether it be their friends, their enemies, that celebrity everyone hates so much. Anyone and everyone. So many people waste this power by holding it back, by not speaking up when they need to defend someone else, God, or themselves. Don't be one of those people.

Today I want to show you the two main ways you can use your words.

1. To Bring Death

I once read a book about a girl who heard everything any person anywhere in the world said about her. Praise, criticism, gossip. Everything. (The book is called Claim to Fame, and it's by Margaret Peterson Haddix.) Imagine what that would be like, if you heard everything someone said about you. You'd know if that cute boy at debate club likes you, what the 'cool kids' think about you, and what those blank-faced judges thought of your speech. Now let's switch things around.

Imagine if that girl you called fat in private heard what you said. Imagine if that celebrity heard you call them ugly. Imagine if that one debate team heard you make fun of their case.

Imagine if people heard every word you spoke about them.

 People have hurt you with their words, haven't they? They've said mean, spiteful things, they've gossiped about you, spread rumors about you, and killed you a little inside every time.

And you've hurt people with your words too, right? You've said mean, spiteful things, you gossiped and spread rumors. And each time, you killed them a little inside. We can make excuses for the words we say: I was mad. It was in private. Their case really is crazy. We can make excuses, but they will never excuse the deadly words we speak.

That's a little extreme, right? But it's true all the same. The words we say to someone - anyone - can affect them for years and years- trust me, I know.

We can choose to use our mouths to bring death, no matter who we are or who they are. And this, far too often, is what we (and what I) choose to do. We can be insult someone, criticize something we shouldn't criticize (like their natural hair or eye color.) We can gossip about about them, spread rumors, and say those bitter things. Or we can choose our words in the other way.

2. To Bring Life

Last year, after weeks of building up the courage to do so, I sent an email to a girl named Chandler. I had been reading her hilarious blog, and she had just written a post about not giving up, a thing I am somewhat of an expert on. I had wanted to talk to her before, because I love the blog. I got to watch two of her finals speeches at NITOC (although I hadn't spoken to her. I swear I'm not a stalker), but I couldn't work up the courage to go up to her and fangirl about A. her speeches, and B. her blog.

But I wrote an email to her about a month later, talking about my experience with failure and giving up and not giving up. It was a weird thing for me to do. I'm not really one to comment on blog posts, or email strangers about their amazing writing. It feels awkward, but I wish I would do it more. But I emailed Chandler. And she emailed me back.

I saved the email she wrote back in a Word doc. And I saved the file in Dropbox, because I didn't want to lose the kind words she said to me. (And it's a good thing too, because my laptop is busted. RIP: My Poorly Functioning Laptop.) Here's one of the things she said to me in the email (well, a paragraph of things she said to me):

     "You and I know something your judges don't know. You, Hadley Jones, are a fighter. You're dedicated. You know failure isn't the end. I have no doubts you'll come back next year swinging and ready to hit hard. I don't means in terms of competitive success, because I have no idea what the future holds in that regard. Like I said, I can see speech means a lot to you, and that's why you have to be careful not to let subjective placings define you. Instead, let the fact that you are willing to present your ideas to a panel of strangers and not be intimidated define you. I know you will succeed."

Chandler used her words to speak life to me. Almost a year later, those words still mean so much to me.

You can choose to use your words like Chandler did. I guarantee it'll pay off. It may not benefit you, but to those you speak life to, it's priceless. Don't waste your words on insults and slander. Don't stay quiet when you need to speak love into someone's life. Use this invaluable superpower for good, not evil.

Vote affirmative, but more importantly, speak love and speak life. (And go read the book Speak Love, by Annie F. Downs. It's fantabulous and goes much deeper into this subject.)