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"Fantasy makes my dreams, but reality shapes them," - Lynsi Keye

Human Friend

I've seen you fall

I've seen them mock

I've heard them laugh

and push you back

I'm not an angel from above

not even a hero sent from God

I'm only human, just like them,

but if you want, I'll be your friend

I'll help you up when you hit the ground,

When you hurt, I'll be around,

What I can is what I'll do

I'm your friend and I love you

But I'm only human,

remember that,

I can only do what humans can

So I'll mess up, by and by,

And when I do, lean on God,

I am your friend, but can't do it all

Yet, God is always there

to love, to save, to hear

As your friend, I want your best

So to God, I pray you're led

because He loves more than I can possibly try

So much that for you He would die,

Everyday,

for you I pray,

it's this crazy love,

Jesus made

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Happy Memorial Day!
-Lynsi Keye

Henry Ford

"Thinking is the hardest work there is, which is probably why so few people engage in it."

The Toy-Makers

Far away, in a valley tucked away up in the mountains, there stood a toy-making village. All children young and old took pride in their village trade and learned well the crafts of their fathers and mothers. Throughout the entire world, no one could build toys as fine as theirs. Growing up, boys and girls would make toys and give them to each other to play. As the children grew older, however, they wished to exchange and play with something finer. So the children would go into their homes and dig out their precious little box and pull out the loveliest toy they had. For years they had been adding embellishments and colour to the wooden structure and they grew tired of keeping it locked away in a box. Very soon into their young adult years, these fine toys would be brought to be played with. Some children would give their special toy to anyone, others only gave it to people they cared specially about. Still, one by one, year by year, the toys would wear and break. The children would do what they could to fix it, but it would never be the same. In this village there lived a girl of sweet nature. Unlike the other girls her age, she kept her toy safely in its locked box. Sometimes boys would come up to her and encourage her to play with their toys, hoping for hers in return. Sometimes, when she was lonely or the toy looked specially fun, she didn't feel as though she could help herself, and would take up the toy and play with it. Sometimes, but very rarely, she would open her box and bring out her toy, but it was never long before she quickly took it back and locked it safely in its case. Afterwards she would open it up and gaze at it, then she would cry. It never looked as nice as it did before she took it out and gave it to someone to play with. The village girls and boys and adults all told her the toy was hers and that she should bring it out to play with before it was old and ugly and no one wanted it anymore. They told her she should add embellishments, because, though hers was plain and pretty, it was still too plain. She wondered why she didn't feel that way. Maybe it was because it was her only connection too her parents. She never remembered them treating it like a toy, they treated it like a treasure and gift. She wished she could take her toy out and play with it, but it was always too precious and she was too afraid it would break and soil. One days while walking the length of the valley she looked up to see smoke floating into the air. She thought it looked like smoke from a chimney. There was a legend, she recalled, about a toy maker who lived farther up in the mountains. He made the finest toys and it was by him that the first villagers learned their art. Maybe he could tell her about her toy. Maybe he could fix it! And make it the most beautiful toy ever! The girl ran back to the village, grabbed her box, holding it close, and followed the smoke cloud. It was not long before she appeared in a clearing. At the centre was a log cabin. There was also a garden. In it an old man was working. The girl smiled. There was something friendly and grandfatherly about this elderly man. 

"Hello, young lady, how can I help you?" He said, turning around. 

"Are you the grand toy maker?" She asked.

"I don't make toys," he said, "I make treasures." He couldn't be referring to what had always been called their toys, she thought and hoped. How dreadful if what they played with was really a gift from this man. If that were true, how many hours he must have laboured over each one, she thought. "I see you have my gift for you in that box you carry. Do you bring it with you everywhere?" He remarked, to her surprise. Without saying a word, she held it out to him, even though everything inside of her wanted to hold it closer so he couldn't see, there was some stronger force that wanted desperately to give it to him. With a gentle smile, he took the box. "It needs a key," he mentioned. 

She searched her pockets and clothes, but realised to her despair that she had left it at home. "I don't have it," she exclaimed. 

"Do you wish I could see it?" He asked. The girl nodded. To her surprise, the man opened the box as though there were no lock. "Lovely," he exclaimed to her. 

She did not know what to say. All she could think of was all the times she had let it be played with and all the times the villagers told her that her treasure was plain and not  pleasing. "It is chipped right there," she mentioned. 

"Don't think about that," he told her, "my son will be home soon and he can fix it for you. I think it is beautiful."

"Do you really?" She asked. 

"Of course I do!" The friendly man cried, "what is not to love about this wonderful gift." 

"It is terribly plain, despite the colour," observed the girl.
"It is tastefully embellished, see how your own decor adds to the structure rather than distracts it," he extolled her workmanship, "it compliments each other very nicely." 

Never before had the girl's heart soared like it did now. She had only always known that whatever she did, her treasure was never good enough for long. "So it is a gift," she spoke up. The man nodded. "Did you make all those precious things?" she asked. 

"I did," he nodded. 

"Why?" 

He looked at her quietly then said, "I give each person a piece of my craftsmanship so they can then share it with whoever they choose. It was meant to resemble the beauty and uniqueness of each person and to be shared with the one they chose to spend the rest of their lives with. There is a difference, however. While the treasure can be damaged and can not be mended by anyone but my son, for to him I passed on my art, your value can not so much as be dented." 

The girl had never heard something so wonderful. "Has anyone else been to see you?" she asked.

"Yes, a little boy, but he isn't so little anymore. He still comes and visits me quite frequently. I think he is out with my son." 

The hours ticked by and by, and the old man and the village girl talked and talked. She confessed and cried over her little treasure and apologized for being careless with it. He did not condemn nor excuse her, but it was such a relief to have someone listen. He encouraged her not to listen to the villagers who did not know their own hearts and minds, let alone her's. Then they spoke of wonderful things, happy things, and sad things. It was growing dark when they heard the front door open and two voices coming in. One was saying good-bye to the other. 

"That would be my son," the man told her. "Immanuel," he called, "a village girl has brought us her treasure and needs it to be mended." 

"Yes, Father," the young man said brightly, coming over, "Hello, my name is Immanuel. Would you like me to renew your treasure?" 

The girl nodded, wondering why he asked her, when his father already said so."Where is it?" The father handed the box to the girl, who timidly handed it to the son. Immanuel took the box over to the table and gingerly opened it, bringing out the treasure. The girl's face flushed when she saw it, but it flushed even more when she saw Immanuel take out his own treasure. Her eyes widened at how beautiful it was. His hands moved skillfully over both treasures, until at last, to her horror, he seemed to break his. 

"What are you doing," she nearly cried, then she saw he was using the pieces from his own to mend hers. "That was not worth it," she felt like saying, but the caring look in the father's eyes and the peaceful look in the son's convinced her that they believed it was. 

It was not long before her treasure was shining brighter than she had ever seen it. Immanuel lifted it up and gave it to her, "Now you have a piece of my treasure in yours. I hope it will stay safe, but never be afraid to come back to me to fix it for you."

"Thank you," the girl gasped, tears filling her eyes. She could hardly believe he thought that her treasure was precious enough to take from his own, but now her heart believed it too, and her soul soared with joy.

He smiled, "May I walk you back to the village?"

"Yes, please," she answered.

------------


Sorry it's late!

- Lynsi Keye

George Bernard Shaw

"Liberty means responsibility. That is why most men dread it.

To See the Light

I saw this post on Pinterest earlier today. It says above "If you had the chance to kill yourself without hurting the ones you love would you?" and below "In a heartbeat." Underneath it a girl commented, "I wish I could." That caused me to stop and think. I can't claim to be someone who has a hell of a life and the only way out is suicide, but I know what it feels like for life to just be throwing continuous curve-balls in the middle of what feels like a never ending thunderstorm in a little boat in the middle of the Sea of Galilee and to just wish I could give up, but know I can't because of the ones I love. For goodness sakes, life is tough, sometimes more often than not! But I also couldn't help but think and want to post: "Life is so hard sometimes and it's so easy and sometimes reasonable to want to give up and it's brave to keep going for those you love... but I think it's hard to see the light when all we think is how much we want to give up. idk... just a thought." That's what I was going to reply, but I must confess I am not very bold on the internet when it comes to these things. I'd rather talk to these people face to face, because each person is different and their needs are unique to who and where they are. Still, I just wanted to say to anyone out there struggling with life, self-harm, self-hate... Yes, life is tough. Yes, you are going through hard times. No, it's not time to give up. I promise you, even if you have to wait until eternity, the light is coming to those who are Children of the King.

-----

Update: I read it to my sister - posting that sort of thing is more up her alley - and she told me to do it! So, figuring, what's the worst that could happen? I posted it.

Read a Life

Look into my eyes. Tell me I don't understand. Can you read my story. Do you know my history. Will you just guess and tell me what I am. Can you hope to see the years written on my hands or the scars painted on my chest? They say don't judge a book by it's cover.
Don't judge a life by today. Kings have fallen, paupers have risen.
No, these things are hidden deep. They aren't read like a book, learned like a formula. If you don't know me, you don't know my story. How can you say I can't understand if you don't know where I've been or what I've seen?

-Lynsi Keye :-)

Nominated!!!!

So this is fun! M.J. McKeel nominated me for the:

Liebster Award

*Applause* Haha... It is an honor and I am very grateful! :) Like her, I did not know anything about this until I was nominated by MJ McKeel. Her blog is: http://pitchforkprincessforhim.blogspot.com/ She's a wonderful person and not only does she has some exciting stories up on her blog, but she has awesome Pinterest boards you should check out! (http://www.pinterest.com/warriorofGod98/)

What is this award???? It is an award bloggers give to other bloggers, because we like to acknowledge eachother's awesomeness! It seems, Liebster means "sugar and spice and everything nice" in German? According to GoogleTranslate it means "Dearest" which works, too. According to another source, it means a whole bunch of nice things... so pretty much, sugar and spice and everything nice. :D

The rules are:

• Thank and link back to the person who nominated you. (MJ McKeel: http://pitchforkprincessforhim.blogspot.com/)
• List 11 facts about yourself.
• Answer the 11 questions asked by the blogger who nominated you.
• Nominate 9 bloggers who have fewer than 200 followers (you can’t nominate the blogger who nominated you).
• Ask them 11 questions.
• Let them know about the nomination.

Eleven facts:

1. Lynsi Keye is my pen name.
2. I have been homeschooled my whole life
3. I used to be on swim team, but now I teach swim lessons at the YMCA - which is also my first job.
4. I'm a part time geek/nerd... I love science, Sherlock, and socializing. Okay, so I stretched it a bit for the alliteration. I'm a mellow extrovert - so I like socializing, but I need my alone time, too.
5. I love ASL and other languages.
6. I love being in other cultures... even though it as often as not makes me feel like a fool and terribly awkward, I love being out of my comfort zone. Life's too short to have comfort zone limits!
7. I am going for an MD, but that's so far in the future, it's hard to make definite plans.
8. I love Jesus so much!
9. I've wanted to be a writer since I was very young. I had a vivid imagination and would act out my stories and tell my siblings stories and now I take that imagination and try to turn it into words.
10. Charles Dickens, Jane Austin, Charlotte Bronte, Elizabeth Gaskell, and Mark Twain are my writing style inspirations.
11. I'm an opportunist realist... and do my best to think through even the smallest things objectively.

The Questions!:

1: Who is your favorite actor/actress? I absolutely love Shirley Temple, Julie Andrews, Jeremy Brett, and Dick Van Dyke.

2: If you could travel to only one place for the rest of your life, where would it be? That's a tough one... I'd probably pray about it and ask God where is the place I'd be most useful in for that amount of consistency. I'd hope - but highly doubt - it would be El Porvinir (a huge beautiful forest Mid-US mountains with very few people for miles)

3: If you had a super-power, what would it be? Totally flying.

4: What is your favorite color? Purple or Blue

5: If you've done the Disney Princess personality quiz, who did you get? I have not... so I do not know.

6: If you could pick any pet to have, what would it be? Some exotic, wild animal, like a tiger or a hawk.

7: Period dramas, or Sci-fi action movies? Period dramas period.

8: What is your favorite thing to do in free time? I love to write... surf Pinterest... and sing with my siblings.

9: Which is your favorite: Facebook or Pinterest? PINTEREST!

10: Are you talkative or silent? Depends on where I am... to loud people I am quiet, to quiet people I am loud.

11: Lastly, what is your favorite verse? My favorite Bible verse - I assume that's the type of verse it means - is... probably Jeremiah 29:11 and Corinthians 13:13.

Alright, my questions:

1: How long have you been blogging?

2: What is your inspiration for blogging?

3: Who is your favorite actor/actress?

4: Favorite genre of book/movie?

5: What are your fandoms?

6: Do you have plans for adulthood?

7: Public, Private, Online, or homeschooled?

8: If you had a super power, what would it be?

9: What is your favorite Bible verse?

10: Favorite quote?

11: Favorite song?

12: And I'm out... whatever you want to say....

Bloggers I tag??? Below:

Mary-Jane Woody the famous creator of Pindred Spirits (Pinterest) and author Top Hats & Typewriters (check it out!): http://astudyinink.blogspot.com/2013/12/undertaking-remarkable-experience.html

Marie Raymond a fun, fangirling Pindred Spirit: http://cleanfangirling.wordpress.com/

Abbie Boots the famous creator of "Hello You Wonderful People :)" (Pinterest) and a wonderful talent for writing!: http://bootsgirl-philippians-4-13.blogspot.com/

Willow and Darrion the fantastic and Pinterest famous authors of The Call, not to mention with a wonderful Pinterest page!: http://willow-the-call.blogspot.com/

Kiri Liz, who is the first pinner and blogger who made me realize the whole big wide world of writers I could meet on pinterest and blogspot/wordpress: http://www.liannetaimenlore.blogspot.com/

Sarah, who obviously has good taste considering she loves horses, writing stories, and pictures :D and she is also the first person to start reading my blog and make comments! (Thanks!!!!) She has an awesome blog called Sarah'Sword with images of her horses, best friend, memes and posts of quotes and a whole lot of other good stuff!: http://sarahssword.blogspot.com/\

Olivia C., a writer I just found on Pinterest and blogspot today. She has an awesome story going that I am really excited to read! You should check it out!: http://oliviasinkspots.blogspot.com/

You guys all rock! Never stop writing! :D

(That's all the bloggers I know, right now.)

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

"We always have time enough, if we will but use it aright."

I am the Moon, You are the Sun.

 

I am as strong as an oak tree years old. I am as lovely as the average autumn day. I am as fearful as the moon who governs the night. All the stars in the universe are hers. But you must be the sun, because never before have I been so daunted. You must be the ruler of the day, just as I rule the night. When darkness surrounds, I am loved, I am feared; but to you, I am small, just a reflection of your rays. When people see you and then see me, I am out of place. They smile and find it strange that they can see me in your day. And as long as you are here, I long for night to be near, so once again people will look to my light to guide them through the darkest night and bless my stars that twinkle far as they may relax in the cool quiet of a restful night.

(fiction)

- Lynsi Keye :-)

What Really Matters in the End

Hello Readers,

I hope you are all having a fine week! I hope you are all joyful and shining like stars of the universe no matter what the time of day this world seems to be in at the moment. So... while working a few days ago, I was thinking about how easy it is to let life's busyness just steal away the joy and brightness of our lives. It's easy to feel like in order to grow up and take things seriously we need to be grave and understand just how hard things are, but that only seems - at least for me - to stress me out and make me feel like I'm in a prison.
You know another thing that makes me feel like I'm in a prison? Fear of man. That might sound funny, but it's when all of the sudden you go from invisible to openly admired, and people suddenly have expectations of you. Even if the expectations are easy to meet, it is still terrifying in a way. It feels like there is no longer the freedom just to dance along life's path, because now there are other people to please. Another level to this bitter cake, another bar on this prison gate, is social expectations. There is almost a sense of freedom when no one notices you, no one reads your blog, or even when a lot of people specifically care. Except for the general reputation of being honest, helpful, and mature and even friendly, there is not a detailed list of reputable expectations people have for you, so a mistake is more easily forgiven. It's easier to be yourself. That all changes when the stage light is thrown on you. The details seem to matter and there seems to be a socially and politically correct way of doing things that may not align with who God made you to be. That feels like a prison to.
Worse than a prison, sometimes. I like to have the freedom to move. I don't like wearing constraining, tight fitting clothes that hurt. I hate it! I don't wear those clothes. I want to be able to move my body and my limbs comfortably, without being constrained by the clothes I wear. The "prison" I was talking about often feels like tight clothes. That is arguably even worse than a straight jacket. Why? Because for goodness sakes no one in their right mind WANTS to wear a straight jacket, but constraining clothes has it's pro's and cons. For instance, they may be stylish. They may be stylish even when they are appropriate and not immodest. So, it's a desirable prison? Believe it or not, that is actually an accurate analogy. People want to fit in, yet, fitting in at the expense of yourself is like a prison. It's a prison that hurts to stay in and hurts to leave (though leaving gives ultimate freedom in the end).
Fitting in isn't bad, it's fitting in at the expense of who God made you to be. Today I realized I was trading in the joy of being myself for fear of man and what they thought of me. I felt like I had to explain just how stressful my life was so that people would be impressed and respect me as someone way ahead of the game. I felt like I couldn't talk to that person because that's just not what people do. I couldn't be happy all the time because I might come across like Pollyanna.
I'm not sharing this because I want to talk about myself a whole bunch. I am sharing this because I honestly think that there are a lot of people who feel this way. You are not alone! And this is what I realized. Who cares what people think of you as long as God thinks well of you? People and their opinions are not only temporary, but fickle. You can please them for awhile, at best, but not forever. As for the impressing people. I began to ask myself, why am I complaining about having so much responsibility and things to do? I personally like having a busy-on-the-go and even slightly stressful - in a good way (I don't know a better word) - life, but complaining about it was taking away the joy of having a lot of activity. Besides, there are thousands of people in the world. They each have their own trials to overcome. I don't have to try and impress people and neither do you. Be yourself and your strengths will shine through! Lastly, as long as it is a appropriate times - like not at a serious business meeting or at a funeral - why not be happy? Why not smile and try to brighten people's day? Even if they look at you like you are weird, they may end up having a better day for it.
If you relate to any of this, you are not alone. We are not alone. In the end, it really doesn't matter what anybody else thinks of you, wants of you, or anything, it only matters what God thinks of you, wants of you, and made you to be. Quite honesty, we'll all be happiest when we are who He wants us to be, even if it hurts a little to get there!

God bless you all,
Your Sister in Christ,
Lynsi Keye