Guys, last night I had one of the coolest dreams.

Lately Satan has been wailing me over the head with the baseball bat of temptation, and it’s been really difficult to get past it. I get past it, yes, but not without a long enduring fight first. Anyway, last night I was really tempted to do some terrible things, but I reminded myself of one thing: God has a plan for me.

The reason why this fought off the temptation was because I’m aware of the glorious future that awaits me if I stay in God’s will, if I trust Him to save me from myself, if I believe that He loves me and has a plan for me, which He does. This awareness brings about the reflection of throwing away an entire lifetime of love and peace and purity for one single moment of pleasure or satisfaction, one moment of giving in. And that made the temptation go away.

When I fell asleep, I went into this terrifying dream where a group of men had kidnapped me and dragged me to this community where women were being forced to do unspeakable things and men were doing the same, and they all, despite their being forced, seemed to enjoy it in a sick way. A man pointed a gun at me and told me I had to participate. I stood there, looking at the activities and then back at the man; I felt like I was standing there for an eternity. Finally, I took a step back, kicked off my shoes, and said “No, I’m done,” and walked away. And then I woke up.

I’ve never woken up and felt triumphant. Peaceful? Yes. Happy? Mhm. Excited? Certainly! But never triumphant. I had slept so smoothly and so comfortably I had to wonder, when I woke up, if sleeping hadn’t been a dream in itself.Β 

This morning in my devotions, I prayed that God would keep Cedric from being killed…I know, I know, I’m pathetic. The reason why I was praying for this is because a man from pest control came in this morning and set up traps and sticky paper for Cedric. When I looked at them later, I realized they were snap traps (you know…the ones that break the mouse’s neck), and I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I really don’t consider myself an animal rights activist or a tree hugger or anything like that…but I became nauseated when I thought about one of those traps going off and finding Cedric dead.

So I snapped the traps.

I KNOW I KNOW. HE’S A PEST. I don’t know…I just don’t want him to die 😦 I guess when I have my own house I’ll always have a pest problem…or I’ll be like that elderly woman in Ratatouille and have a colony of rats living in my attic…maybe I’ll just live in the wilderness, yeah, a lean-to or a luxurious tent…Oh! I’ll do the other thing I’ve always dreamt of! I’ll buy a really old school bus, take out all the seats, and make it into an RV. I’ll live in the wilderness that way πŸ™‚

I. Am. A genius.

Anyway, today went very well, I thought. I only had one class, similar to how last semester worked. Charlene and I got together for lunch and then I headed off to Studio class. Now, I did something really terrible last class and it’s been eating at me for the past couple of days. Our last assignment was to write a three to five page story based on the prompt “I remember/I don’t remember.” Well, I’d hit writer’s block and couldn’t figure out what to do. I then had the idea to take a scene from one of my novels that I’m working on and change some things around so it fit the requirements of the assignment. But then, in class, I found out I had done the assignment incorrectly and if I’d done it correctly then I wouldn’t have hit writer’s block at all. My professor kindly said, “Well, the point of the prompts are for you to write things that are new. And this was new, right?” And I said “yes.”

But the moment I said yes, I instantly felt guilty. I don’t lie to teachers; I haven’t lied for a long time and I don’t make a habit out of it either. It’s just one of those things that don’t normally tempt or affect me, just because I’ve had too many experiences where people think I’m one person when I’m really not and I end up hanging out with the wrong people or breaking someone’s heart or betraying someone, and it never ends well for anyone. So I resolved to tell my professor the truth.

Today after class, I approached him and explained that I had lied to him and I had, instead of writing something new, taken from one of my novels and tweaked it. The weird thing? He wasn’t angry at all. I had been so worried that he’d be disappointed in me or not ever take me seriously ever again, but I had decided, regardless of what he would think of me, it was more important he know the truth. He explained the importance of struggling to write new things, of allowing myself to struggle and push my brain. And I know all of this…I just fell over myself.

So, the best thing to do is just tell the truth. And if/when you do lie, even though it might be awkward and embarrassing, you should always tell people you lied instead of having to live up to that lie. I know this moment in my life might seem trivial, and it probably could’ve gone unnoticed, but even the small things are important. How can I claim God’s truth when I’ve lied to someone and haven’t made it right? It’s also a matter of letting your walk match your talk. While you’ll always mess up and be wrong and sin and make mistakes, it’s better to admit when you’re wrong than act as if you’re always right.

Being right when you’re actually wrong is vastly overrated. Seriously. Just be wrong.

After Studio I hung out with some of the writing majors and then I went to Zumba. I’ve had this instructor before and I knew that his class would be more about fitness than provocative dancing. And man was it a workout! We were jumping around and spinning and doing weird things with our feet…my muscles are very tired. Zumba’s one of those cool things you can do to workout without feeling like you’re working out. You’re having so much fun dancing and looking like an idiot that you don’t even realize what a great deed you’re doing for your body. Soccer and beach volleyball are like that too πŸ™‚

Zumba ended and I skyped with Mom for a long time, catching up with her and just, well, hanging out πŸ™‚ I really miss her and everyone else. When I ended our skype session I realized how absolutely exhausted I was.

So, tomorrow I must venture to Higgins Hall, the acclaimed living space of the architecture students, in order to complete my first ever magazine article. That’ll be an adventure πŸ™‚

“Hanging on to every word You speak

‘Cause it’s all that I need.

Hanging on to every word You say

To light up my way.

Even every little whisper I’m

Hanging on as if it were my life

I’m hanging on.”

—‘Hanging On’, Britt Nicole



About newminority16

Hi, my name is Hunter. I very often make random comments about bacon and how chocolate is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy :) So, before I started this blog, I was getting ready to make one of the biggest decisions of my life: college. God led me to go to a secular college in New York City, a place I was deathly afraid of. It's followed me through those years at college straight into married life and becoming a military spouse, all while seeking to following Christ and know God better and share Him with others. This blog is a way for you to go with me through these adventures, through being a Christian in a world that's forgotten its Creator.
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