So I was talking with two of my roommates yesterday afternoon about boys, dating, and the like, and something that I said seemed to amuse them: “I don’t think that there are many guys that I could go with—I am just so weird and quirky…but one day I’m going to make a man from a very rare breed extremely, ridiculously happy.” Initially I said this in a “half way serious, half way making fun of myself” sort of way, but the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve come to terms with the fact that this statement holds a lot of truth…sort of to my dismay and perhaps to my dating demise, I need a very rare, interesting, and specific type of man. Now, I know what you're thinking and I can promise you that I am not overly picky. Yes, I am aware of some things that I need in a guy, but mostly I just think that there aren't many guys that would be able to handle me. I can be quite a handful. HAHAHA. That’s ok—I’m young. I’ve got time!
My ultimate love, my ultimate passion, my ultimate joy is rooted in the one thing that gives direction, life, and purpose to all other things. This thing is the end to every means I ever put into motion. This thing is my family: earthly and heavenly--immediate and distant--past, present, and future. "Thankful" does not begin to capture the humble, sacred gratitude I feel for all in my family and for the relationships that I have (and will have) with them.
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