Tuesday, January 18, 2011


once upon a time there was a girl named amy. she was born in january, and loved the sound of music soundtrack. she grew up in a house that had a bay window and distinct smell that was recognizable but didn't smell like anything in particular. there were bushes outside her house and when her friends would come over she would pluck the leaves off the bushes. she liked walks by the river and figuring out what cell phone service people had. she had very long, pretty hair but she always complemented others on their hair instead. when she was little, she believed lions lived in the basement shadows and stuffed animals could talk but they were too shy. she loved to make up stories with friends, and pretending to be in one. barely a day would go by where she wouldn't smile at someone. her bedroom was very small but had a beautiful view of the sunset, and the blushing flowers that grew in the front side garden. she would play in the pine needles until dinnertime, pretending to be an indian with her friends madeline and jenna and sometimes sophie. she was even one of those kids who fell out of a tree. as she got older, even though her fingers were short she mastered the piano. even though she had head trauma, she learned to care for others more than herself. even though she had body pains, she learned how to love deeper. if you were to tell her a joke that wasn't very funny, she would laugh even if it hurt her. her kindness extended beyond the usual ways of friendship. she exhaustively encouraged other people to love the Savior more. there wasn't one person she met and didn't touch in some way. i don't say that to just honor her and to show you the good characteristics in her. i say it because it's true, every word. she didn't just touch people in small ways that they don't notice until they think about it hard, they were great ways. everyone who met her was struck by her devotion to God and furthering His kingdom, and they could tell you so. her life was the utmost of examples. and during the middle of december 2010, she felt like she had a word from the Lord. she had always had headaches, but He was telling her that a huge one was coming, but that He would be glorified by it. on december 14, 2010, amy had brain hemorrhage (bleeding in the brain) and was rushed to the hospital. over the next month she was in sedated coma and went through surgeries, and had drains taken out and put in. friends and family visited her and sang songs to her and played instruments because she loved music so much. thousands of people, even in europe and asia heard her story and read her blog and kept her in their prayers. exactly a month after the hemorrhage, she turned nineteen years old. everyone was so hopeful. it seemed that things were coming together, and everybody's faces were starting to light up again. but the night after her birthday, she had a second hemorrhage. the damage was done before a doctor could do anything, and there was nothing left to do. so on january 17th, 2011, at 10:59 p.m. her heart ceased to beat, and the hearts of her friends and family were broken.

this girl amy grew up just down the street from me. amy, growing up with you was one of my biggest adventures.
i remember playing with you when we were little.
we would have jump rope competitions and talk about whether or not stuffed animals were alive.
we were always afraid of closet monsters and always made sure to not go TOO far in.
we would jump the fence that lined us from the next neighborhood, because we were spies and had to make sure what the people in the tennis court were doing really was tennis after all.
we would have lists of the different clubs we were in, and the alphabet for the different languages we made up and would walk around with those stuffed in our pockets.
we would play hide and seek and i never could get under the desk in your living room because of that slanting wall.
we would spy on your brother in his chain mail workshop through the window. he saw us almost every time.
we would talk about dreams while eating strange snacks.
we would never go into our parent's bedrooms for some reason.
we would make up songs and eat millions of cookies.
we would see how many stairs we could jump down in your house.
we would make puppet shows out of aesop's fables and would just end up getting confused.
we would play computer games about waffles.
we would talk about what exactly turkish delight must be.
we would attempt to play ping pong in your basement but never really hit any balls.
we would ride bikes around your house because you had that humongous dip on one end of the house.
we would watch your banana tree in your living room but it never grew bananas.
we would sit fascinated by your fake fire in the fireplace.
we would make lego contraptions across the ceiling that would pour legos on the person who walked through the door of that room. i was the first victim.
we would make christmas card holders out of felt. we all knew how ridiculous they looked.
we would play frustrating games of go fish.
we would formulate plans on how to get our parents to let us have a sleepover.
we would look at your refrigerator magnets and name them things like john.
we would play games in my court, like kick the can and werewolf.
we would watch the cartoon version of robin hood over and over.
we would hide in the closet under the stairs but never stay too long because there were definitely cobras in there that wanted to eat us.
we would read dr. seuss books and try to make up meanings for the strange words he used.
we would watch the sea monkey circus stephen got for his birthday. "they look like fluff."
we would give back massages that would end up making both of us feel wiggly.
we would over salt our popcorn on purpose.
we would comment on how you liked pasta so much.
we would wonder if you were related to the president of mexico.
we would throw things at each other from the laundry shoot. it made us laugh so hard.
we would take walks in the cold, and talk about the weirdest things.
we would sing about watermelons under parking lot streetlights.
we would make cars fly.
we would attempt to make awkward engagement with friends.
we would wonder what our houses would look like if they blew up.
we would hold hands really right in the most painful of times.

but most of all, you inspired me more than anyone else to be a Christian and to love the Lord with all my heart. when i was an awkward little middle schooler, you would ask me about my relationship with God (or lack thereof at the time). you made me realize what faith in God really was. it was you that made me want to take a step into learning who the Lord is and ultimately i became a Christian.

amy, you life was short but it wasn't in vain. in the time that you were on earth you inspired hundreds. maybe even thousands.

i can almost see you up there, amy. you're conducting those songs you wrote down here on earth with me and other friends. you used a music program on the computer, with sounds like the ones you hear on 1990's keyboards. but up there, the voices of saints are ringing. the sounds of instruments so beautiful our earthly ears couldn't understand them. everything is golden and white, in the glory of the Lamb. she's making songs so beautiful it makes the angels smile and cry.

and even though it's broken our hearts to lose you, as God says He has been glorified! He has given me a deeper sense of peace and security of our true home. we cry over the loss of you, but we cry with the sort of crying that's filled with hope!

it's like c.s. lewis says, our life down here is just the cover and the title page. up there is the real story. and it never ends, it goes on forever, and each chapter is more wonderful than the last. amy, this isn't goodbye. it's a see you soon. life is a flash and before we all know it we'll be up there with you, and we can hold hands again, without pain. we can dance and sing for all eternity. forever and ever, with out end.

"And as He spoke He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and as we can most truly say that they lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia has only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read; which goes on forever in which every chapter is better than the one before."
- c.s. lewis

Friday, January 14, 2011


last tuesday night was one of those nights where the snow was falling and you could put on your dad's wintercoat and stand in it forever looking at porch lights and bright night skies because everything was so quiet. quiet. even the lights didn't hum. it didn't smell like anything, it didn't taste like anything, and it was only sort of time you want it to be winter. it was the sort of night where no one could possibly be watching you so it didn't matter if you were in pajamas or if you were covered in snow and you weren't cold. it was still. so still you almost fell over and asleep for forever and ever. it was a scene from a movie, it was something you read in a story.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

where the wild jennas are.

so, i told some people that during the summer i was redecorating my room. i didn't really finish, there are still a few things i would like (different curtains and a new lamp and a new clock.) but that i don't need, so i'm not sure when i might get them.
here's a peek at what it looks like now. sorry, my room was messy and my bed wasn't made and my curtains are rolled up for some reason.

oh and here's a list of the new things in my room:
- i cut out shapes of birds and taped them to my wall in different places so they look like they're flying around. they took sooo long to do. each one took like a half an hour.
- old photos from the 1800's. i want more of these.
- a bulletin board with a bunch of my favorite photos from different photographers.
- i took tommy's old art palettes and hung them on the wall.
- this cool elephant thing that's from kenya.
- a bird cage. not in the video, i think i got it after this.
- some seashells that i found and hung from the ceiling with rope. also not in the video.
- film photos from summer. i used a disposable.
- a dream catcher that i got at a indian museum. it's the real deal.
- a mural that my brother painted on my wall of tree roots. there's more now that what you see in the video. i'll probably show you later.
- a verse that i hand cut out and taped on there myself. that took hours.
- my bed is supposed to be the bottom half of a bunk bed, and there's these holes in the corners, so i went outside and got some old branches and stuck them in the holes. now i have a tree bed.
- and a bunch of cool stuff from around the world from friends and family like chinese antiques and big ben figurines from london, and film cameras and seashells from assateague island and fake ivy and dried flowers.

(oh, the song is sailing home by karen o and the kids.)

Saturday, January 8, 2011

don't go, i could eat you up i love you so.

i've taken photos recently, but i didn't know what do with them, so they wind up here.
they're all unedited, except the last one. oh, and they look much better when you click on them. blogger makes photographs look grainy and weird.

so yeah. goodbye.