as morning breaks i look to you, oh God, to be my strength this day. alleluia.
colleen | 19 | st. louis + new orleans
Install Theme

so apparently the way i’ve been turning in all of my history papers up to this point merits a 1-letter-grade deduction, as stated on the syllabus


few things feel as good as finishing a song that i poured my heart into

that being said, i probably should have written my history paper instead of finishing my song

but, like anna says, “there’s what’s urgent, and there’s what’s really important”

and i need to get back to focusing on the important rather than ignoring it in favor of the urgent

dans tes blessures, cache-moi…

(Source: Spotify)

My Chemical Romance



Teenagers | My Chemical Romance 

i feel that i should reblog this while i’m still a teenager

good night, world. see you when i’m *gulp* twenty

God works in really cool ways

getting prepped for first-year retreat this weekend! #retreatleaderlife

getting prepped for first-year retreat this weekend! #retreatleaderlife

"colleen, look out that window pensively!"
"i can’t!"

Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts.

Charles Dickens (via kushandwizdom)

More good vibes here

(via words-of-emotion)

(via bdnocampo)

modesty, etc.

last night, i had an interesting conversation with one of my friends about modesty, particularly as it pertains to the current 90s-revival trend of girls wearing no bra

if you don’t want to read about girls’ nipples, i’d stop reading now (though i think some of it is pretty cool).

basically, it comes down to the fact that breasts are a beautiful and intimate thing, and that the strangers walking by don’t deserve the level of intimacy that seeing your nipples through your shirt involves.

womens’ breasts are amazing, not just for their beauty, but because they can literally nourish another human being.  and the bond that’s created when a mother feeds her child is incredibly intimate.

we can also choose to reveal them to those with whom we are being physically intimate.  in fact, that intimacy is at the heart of the point i’m trying to make.

"intimate" comes from the latin word intimus, which means "inmost"—protected and covered by multiple layers.  it has a sense of sanctity, of reverence for this precious thing.

and to reveal that to strangers without that sort of bond, without that intimacy, is to deny the sanctity and beauty of your body.  it’s doing yourself a disservice by showing to others something they frankly don’t deserve to see.

everything today could have gone terribly (and in some ways did) but with the help of nice people and good music, it’s getting much better


the fly was lovely tonight

prayer in passing time

Father, you have entrusted to us this passing time as a gift of your grace and presence. As you live in eternal time, so we—as long as we live—must exist in transitory time. Not abandoned by you, but in a connection with you that you prepared and provided from creation and that has gained new density and strength through the coming of your Son.

And if the years vanish in their course, they are still only successions of days that pass right through us as we pass through them in order to seek constantly what you have to show us, to experience constantly your love in new ways, to remain constantly in your embrace, just as the whole of time remains in the embrace of eternity.

We know that we are in your hand, that you shape all things, that you demand of us only the attempt to love you as steadfastly as we can. Not you in isolation, but you with your Son and your Spirit in the unity you manifest from the primordial beginning of eternity.

Our love can only be response and requital, because you, triune, eternal Love, always love us first; but do not permit this answer to wane in us; rather, let it be so vigorous that you can always perceive in it the reflected brilliance of your light. Amen.

Adrienne von Speyr, With God and With Men: Prayers, 34-35

I firmly believe in small gestures: pay for their coffee, hold the door for strangers, over tip, smile or try to be kind even when you don’t feel like it, pay compliments, chase the kid’s runaway ball down the sidewalk and throw it back to him, try to be larger than you are— particularly when it’s difficult. People do notice, people appreciate. I appreciate it when it’s done to (for) me. Small gestures can be an effort, or actually go against our grain (“I’m not a big one for paying compliments…”), but the irony is that almost every time you make them, you feel better about yourself. For a moment life suddenly feels lighter, a bit more Gene Kelly dancing in the rain.

— Jonathan Carroll (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

(via northern-southerner)

So… what if they lied?


(This is a follow-up to my previous post about Ferguson, which I titled, “Hi, I actually live in St. Louis”. I’m going to reference some things from that post, so I recommend reading it first.)

So it looks like someone lied. Maybe Mike Brown wasn’t the “gentle giant” he was described as. Maybe he wasn’t running away. Maybe he was dangerous. 

The autopsy results were released today. Six gun shots, all to the front of the body. No one has released an analysis of the scene of the shooting yet, but it’s apparent that something isn’t going to line up— the story we’ve been hearing is that Mike Brown was running away when shot, then was killed with his hands up, surrendering. Obviously he wasn’t running away while shot if the entry wounds are all in the front, ect.

The Department of Justice has ordered yet another autopsy (that makes three), the results of which will likely be released later this week. If I had to guess, I’d guess that the officer will eventually be cleared. According to police protocol (as per my dad), “you shoot until the threat is no longer a threat.” It doesn’t matter if we agree with that, because that’s roughly the legal standard to which the officer is going to be held.

But here’s the deal: someone is still dead, and in the wake of that death, many more have been injured, and a lot of property has been damaged, and people don’t feel safe in their own neighborhood. But like I said before, this is no longer just an issue of a dead teenager. That matters, of course, and it will continue to matter until it’s legally resolved.

However, there’s a bigger issue here, and it’s one that can hardly be ignored (nor has it been): racism. It’s the big, ugly elephant that’s been in the room throughout American history. From the decimation of the Native Americans to the slavery and segregation of African Americans to the internment of Japanese Americans during World War Two… white America doesn’t have a great track record. 

At this point, I hardly think it hardly matters whether or not Mike Brown was shot because he was black. What matters is that thousands of black St. Louisans believed it so quickly; it matters because this incident has shown that— whether or not white people think it’s a problem— black people do, and their feelings matter. Black people don’t feel protected by police, they feel threatened by them. 

It would be too easy to dismiss their feelings if it turns out that Mike Brown wasn’t as angelic as his mom thought (are any of us really?) and to say “See? Racism isn’t a problem! He was guilty and he got shot; that’s what happens to criminals. Race had nothing to do with it.

Let’s not look for the easy way out of these conflicts, friends. Racism is a long shadow in our broken world, born of sin and bred in darkness. It thrives when we point out our differences and ignore our similarities, and it loves when when it’s allowed to creep beneath our skin as we pretend it is not there.

One of the things the news isn’t covering (because, hey, that guy from LA who is certain he’s the expert on St. Louis actually isn’t) is the attempts at reconciliation that are happening, often in churches. I really like this article— it’s not perfect, but I think it came from a heart that desires peace.

White pastors have stood up and admitted their prejudices, promising to work with the black community towards racial reconciliation in St. Louis (which, as many have already noted, is one of the most racially segregated cities in the country). Black pastors have done the same, asking their congregations, “if a white police officer walked in right now, would he be welcomed, would he be loved, would be prayed for?”

These are important things, my friends. When anger abounds, when fingers point, when we only read and post articles that we agree with, we don’t get anywhere. We need to be uncomfortable with ourselves, constantly aware of filters that blur how we see our fellow human beings.

And Christians— you are called to love, not to be “right.” Don’t forget that. Love patiently, love endlessly. Listen without preparing your perfect answer; try to understand the heart of whoever is speaking to you. 

important follow-up to the last post i reblogged