Plastic Bag

"Did my maker exists, or had I created her in my mind? Why were my mountains of joy so brief? And yet, like a fool, I still have hope I will meet her again, and if I do I will tell her just one thing: I wish you had created me so that I could die."

These were the words of a plastic bag from an 18 minute creative "documentary" on YouTube by IndiesLab. It goes through the life of a plastic bag, which never dies. This video was more than likely created as a statement against littering and was supposed to get you to start caring for the environment, but to me it said so much more.

Like us, the bag had a "creator." Once the bag was opened at the store it was given life and its creator would be the person getting groceries. Even though these are different kind of creators I found the bag to echo questions that I have asked myself.

The first one is about the bag's doubt of his creator. Does God exists or am I just making this whole thing up? Just like the bag we tend to lose our way from God, and after a while we start to doubt. When the bag was first lost from his creator he said, "I imagined her crying, 'where is he, where is he.'" But perhaps the bag's imagination of his creator crying these words is really just an image of his own fear of where she is. God does not have to wonder where we are, He knows, but when we've gone farther than we should have we have to wonder... where is He? Yet, He's been there all along! Unlike the bag our Creator will not leave our side and leave us wandering.

The second question the bag asks is why its mountains of joy were so brief. The places the bag found its happiness was with his creator and with another bag he had found. He had spent a long time looking for his creator, the one that never came. He was broken over this, but when he met this other bag he said, "I didn't need a maker anymore, I only needed her." His happiness was dependent upon others. Just like that bag I have struggled greatly with this concept. If other people hurt, I hurt for them, and after a while I become more conscious and aware of that person than I ever was with God, and I will feel drained all the time because I can't do this without Him. During the last half of my senior year i was acquiring a lot of friends in high school, and some really needed me to be there for them in ways that just drained me. I loved them all dearly, but i remember quite vividly lying in my bed and saying to God, "I just want it to be me and You." I was depriving God of the time He deserved from me, and my happiness was beginning to diminish. I know we will never be truly happy all the time, but I also know it is better to hurt with God then hurt alone.

The final thing the bag expresses is its desire to die. Obviously we don't have the issue of living forever, but I like that it shows the bag's desire for something more. After the bag gives up on his maker he looks for paradise. Lucky for use we don't have to go looking for Paradise. But others do. There are a lot of other bags out there looking for something... and they're confused about makers, paradise, and other bags. Be on the look out for plastic bags drifting in the wind, and show them our Maker, and I'll try to do the same.

I'll leave you with one last quote from our bag friend, "I had holes, but over time I learned to use them to navigate the wind and I could fly."

With love,
Alisha

Invisible

Once upon a time there was an old grandfather clock. It was very old clock and had a few flaws here and there, but it was always passed down in the family. After a while the clock began to grow very sad in it's old age. It seemed each time it was passed down the clock became more and more invisible. The clock began to believe it was nothing more than an old relic that had to be passed down out of tradition instead of love.


One day the family cat noticed the great clock sitting in the corner of the room. It looked sad and lonely. A light coat of dust hid it's old fading wood and the quiet ticking of its heart. The cat sat in front of the graven clock, mystified by its presence.


"Why hello there, mister clock." The cat said with a flick of its tail.


The clock said nothing, feeling the cat would just walk away and become uninterested like all the others.


"Why are you so sad, mister clock?" The cat asked, tilting her head to the side.


The clock was quiet a moment more, making no sound but a creak of a sigh. "I mean nothing to them anymore." The clock said quietly, as if its voice was muffled by the layer of dust. "The Humans have grown tired of me. I am unnoticed, there is no place for this clock anymore." 


The cat stared blankly at the clock. "But I noticed you, mister clock, and I think you're wrong. I watch the humans, just as you do, and I know they look at you more than the most beautiful woman in the world."


______________________


I wrote this during high school, its gone under a lot of revisions since then, but the main concept still remains. Sometimes we all feel like the clock, alone and unwanted, but the truth is we are wanted and we are noticed. Most of the time we just don't think about the people who do care for us, and we feel alone, but at the very least God always wants us. We think if a person isn't staring us right in the face we are invisible, but God goes deeper than that; God is inside of us. God sees what we see, and He feels what we feel. We are truly never alone when we are with Him.

A New Beginning

Today, as I was sitting at Vespers, a quiet time to think about God and focus on scriptures, I was unexpectedly compelled to start a blog. I just became strongly aware of how I have things I wanted to say, but never knew how to get it across in ways other people would understand, and then a blog just popped into my mind. Blogging is a way for me to get things out that spoken word can't articulate. So here I am, sharing my story with people who may know me or may not. Sharing it maybe even with no one at all, but I don't care because it's not what i created it for. It's for my spiritual growth, my emotional release. And perhaps someone else will come by my blog and get a little something out of it as well.

Recently i've been reading a novel by John Green called Looking for Alaska. At first I was wondering what this man was thinking when he was writing this novel, and then I got to the part that the book was leading up to around the middle of the story called simply 'after.' It struck me right in the gut and I forced myself to put the book away and go to sleep before realization could really sink in. One of the characters dies, and it struck me too close to home.

My Junior year of high school I was friends with this boy named Davin. He was a very intellectual guy and I loved making conversation with him. But as time went by I learned things he did, like drink at parties, and he did drugs. It was so distressing, but it was his life, he was 18, I couldn't tell him what to do.

As the year slowly went by I ran into several hardships, and Davin had gotten back together with his ex girlfriend, who he was really fond of. Inevitably we grew apart, and eventually we never talked, he deleted his Facebook, and changed jobs to work at his girlfriend's fathers company. I was okay with this, because I had shut down from other issues that had arrived anyway.

It's been two years, I am now a freshman in college, but earlier this year in September Davin just disappeared, not just from my life, but from Earth completely. In Looking for Alaska they can't figure out whether their friend's death was a suicide or an accident so far from what I have read, but Davin's death was most definitely a suicide, and I was so broken when I found out. I had so many question that will forever be unanswered, and lately I can't get past it. It's been hard, feeling like i'm reliving his death all over again. Infinite layers. There are too many layers between us, and we never had a proper goodbye. My stomach turns. It's like the feeling you get when you're about to jump off the tallest diving board at the  pool, the anxiety just thrives in your stomach until you jump. But for me there is no jump. There is only a tomorrow full of who knows what.

But I know i'll be okay. I don't dwell on the topic long, because it doesn't help me do what God has in store for me. I'll never know if Davin went to Heaven or not, because his mother bible thumped him until he could take no more, and then she left a scar on his face that people teased him about relentlessly. This caused him to become angry with God and turn from him when. But its over for him now, and I have to keep living for God. I have to find it within myself to let Him be in control. My anxiety will one day calm down. And it helps to know I have friends who love me, friends I can always talk to, and a God who always listens when a quite girl just needs a release.