Hero/Heroine.

I went to a friends graduation party today. I spent all day with her, her family and a few of her friends that I didn't know.

It was a good day.

I'm tired now.

Kayla's mum is cool.

Summer of '09

Somehow, I was able to make a philosophical connection to a Lady Gaga song.

I feel ashamed.

And, yes. That means I adore Glee.

Brittany, Burt and Quinn are probably my favourite characters.

Brittany for her one liners.

Burt for his willingness to understand and stick up for his son.

Quinn for ability to change.

And, yes. As much as I dislike Lady Gaga, I really enjoyed this episode.

But I think that Rachel and Shelby just were kinda like, "Eh. You're my mom, I'm your daughter. Let's just never talk again." I think that was lame.

Anyway, I'm still alive.

DAYS UNTIL I LEAVE FOR PERU: 24

In The Sun

Can you remember when you realized, when you had that epiphany, when you knew what you were going to do for the rest of your life?

I do.

I only do because it has happened collectively over the past week. And I told you a little bit about it, but now I'm going to delve a bit deeper.

Now let me clarify. I will always be a writer. But I know I won't be happy just writing. Writing is my greatest release. But, if I'm doing nothing but writing, what will I write about?
And I know God is calling me to more.
Maybe it's His plan that I'll change lives by my writing. But I need to learn more. And so I learn. I go to school. I plan on being a youth minister.

Now a few months ago I decided I was going to follow in the footsteps of my grandfather and father both and become a pastor.
Me and a friend decided we'd start a New Age church based on Old School theory. [Any one is welcome. Wear your jeans. But, kid, you're learning about Jesus.]
We decided that she'd be the worship leader, and I'd take care of kids and youth. She'd be the main pastor for Sunday mornings, but I'd stand in every now and then. It was pretty evenly split and we both really liked it.

But I didn't feel as though I was led to do youth ministry. I figured I'd do missions work after a while. Traveling around, preaching to people of all ages, or all races, or all languages.

But now. Oh boy. Now. Well.

You guys all know that I work with a middle school youth group every Wednesday.
For a while, it was only ever on Wednesdays. I saw the kids, I talked with them, I prayed for them on that night and then I went home and on with my week.

But now.

A week and a half ago or so, a friend of mines younger sister, [who goes to my Wednesday night group.] was dumped. And she found God through this break up. She devoted her life to Christ while texting me.

And I was so proud of her. I was beyond proud of her.

And ever since that day, I've called her every night at ten o'clock while I'm walking my dog. [I have a really long road. It takes a half an hour.] And I talk with her about her day. About her soccer games. About her bible reading she does every night.

And I just talk with her.

And when she hangs up, I'm at the end of my dirt road where it runs into one of the busier streets in town. And I crouch down and watch my dog run around, snapping at fireflies.

And I look up at the sky.

And I ask God to watch her. To make sure she knows she is loved, to make sure that she knows she has the power of the King of Kings behind her. And that one day, she'll move mountains.

And that I'll be proud of her the entire time.

At 5 yesterday evening I had a meeting with our Children's minister. It was me, him and a friend. She's in ninth grade and has a younger sister who is a seventh grader that attends my Wednesday night group. After our meeting, me and my friend went upstairs and saw her sister and her two friends in a corner. One was on the phone, the other; crying. We immediately went over.

To make a very long story rather short, I spent fifteen minutes defending a girl I had never met before then to a girl over the phone.

And when they walked away, feeling better and with dried tears, I prayed for them. For all of them. That they'd know peace. That they'd be protected.

That they'd know God.

So this entire past two weeks or so has just been God playing with my tapestry, [so to speak] and showing me that, no. I may not be traveling the world the rest of my life, but if I do, it'll be leading a bunch of teenagers.

It won't be by myself. I'll be with a group of fifteen years olds.

Youth pastor to be? Maybe.

DAYS UNTIL I LEAVE FOR PERU: 32

Heartbreak Warfare

I passed a sign in my schools hallway that said, "Ever wonder what it feels like to ride in an ambulance?!" My first thought: Am I alive while riding in it? I'm so morbid.



I found that amusing, but now on to the more nostalgic thoughts.



I'm sixteen. I'm a junior in high school. [11th grade.]

I've been to ten schools. That means, I've never been at a school longer than two years. Ever.

Until this year. At the end of this school year, I'll have been here for three years. Right from the beginning. I can walk these halls, and say, "Hey. I remember something that happened here three years ago."


I remember things. And it's rather foreign to me. And it's even weirder to know that in another year and a half or so, I'll be able to come back here, walk up to my favourite teachers shake their hands and call them by their first names.



[I've never been like, "Ohhh. Teachers. They only teach and don't have any other interests." Probably because me and my sisters spend so much time after school, so I would literally hang out with teachers for hours on end. It happens.] So, I'm really going to miss these teachers. They've become near friends of mine.

DAYS UNTIL I LEAVE FOR PERU: 32

Day Late Friend

"Tell her she's a whore John Proctor!" Possibly one of my favourite lines in a play ever.

Trumped only by: "In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried. In bridges he burned, or in the way that she died." And possibly others that I can't remember right now.

In my English class we're watching The Great Gatsby. So combined this piece of Arthur Millers genius with that of F. Scott Fitzgerald to make, "Tell him she's a whore, Jay Gatsby!"

I have to write, preform, and edit a skit for my Psychology class. It's due on Tuesday.

I have work all week. This makes for writing and filming and editing a skit rather hard. But, it's based on Harry Potter, so that makes it a whole lot easier.

Okay, that's just a rant of what's going on in my mind. Now on to the deep stuff:

I've always been able to tell when people are being fake. Particularly people that would be deemed as professionals. Call it a gift, if you will. And, I'm pretty good at telling when my boss is stretching it a little.

"They don't pay me enough to babysit you guys."

"I love you guys. More than you'll ever know."

"Call me at any time, we'll chat. I'll take you to coffee. We'll have dinner. I'm here for you."

I've always thought, when he said those things, that he was being dramatic.

But, as a certain middle schooler who will remain nameless has gone through a tough break up, and I've always told the middle schoolers to shot me a text at any time and I'd help them out to the best of my ability, I'm starting to realize that I feel the way Matt talks.

I don't get paid anything, but I'm willing to be there.

I do love them. And I don't think they realize how much.

I've offered to take her out. Go for a smoothie. She calls me at ten o'clock to talk about her bible readings.

Maybe Matt isn't as dramatic as I make him out to be.

What does this mean? When I find myself constantly asking God, "God, just. Watch her. Please God. Just keep an eye on her. Give her the strength to make it through the day. Give her wisdom to make the right decisions. God, help her."

Now, I'm not saying that when I pray, I constantly ask God, "God, today help me. Make today a good day for me." But as a human being who knows she can be sufficiently selfish, I find myself in awe of the fact that something as simple as one of my youth getting dumped can help me realize how impacted I am by my job.

I told my best friends that I will never really be able to have a life of my own. I will live for my church, my youth, my God.

I know they can handle it. That's not my biggest concern; it's if I can.

DAYS UNTIL I LEAVE FOR PERU: 35

Waking The Demon

An ellipses. That"..." at the end of a sentence that makes you think, "What's wrong?" It may be just me, but an ellipses at the end of a sentence drives me insane.

Because I can't help but be selfish and think, "What did I do wrong?"

And my youth pastor, Matt, always puts an ellipses at the end of his sentences. He just e-mailed us all going to Peru our schedule for the next month. When we have fundraisers and when we have mandatory meetings. Well, he said we had one on Sunday, June 19th. I flipped out.

And here's why: I've honestly been waiting for this trip since we got home last July. I've been counting the days since we found out when we'd leave. For the past month, I've been able to say the precise amount of days until we leave for the airport.

That's how excited I've been. But, when I got that e-mail. I freaked out, and couldn't help but momentarily think I was leaving to go back to a place I love a day earlier.

But then I caught myself, and realized that Sunday is actually the 20th. So, I was a tad confused. Where we in fact leaving a day earlier, or had he just typed wrong?

So, I e-mailed him back. I told him that that particular Sunday was the 20th. So, he updated it and resent it out.
"Thanks to Kori Needham for picking up on it..."

"..."

Look again.

"..."

Was I not supposed to tell him that he'd made a gigantic typo? It makes me so severely self conscious, you have no idea.

But, besides the point.

DAYS UNTIL I LEAVE FOR PERU: 36

I Will Not Bow

Sometimes, I wonder if there will ever be a huge medical break through. Something that will allow my younger sister to be a typical, functioning member of society.

Sometimes, I wonder what life would be like if she had been born typical.

Would we fight over who'd get the last piece of cake?

Would she tear up with me when we saw our older brother graduate from Army boot camp?

Would we like the same type of music?

Would I love her as intensely as I do now?

Now, I'm saying that I only love Makenzi because she's different. That's not true. I love her. Regardless.

But, if she were typical, normal, average. Would I find it completely adorable that she's taller than me and three years younger?

Would I love that when I lean down to tuck her into her bed at night, she leans up and kisses my nose?

Would I even still be tucking her in?

I don't think so. I can say, just because she's apart of the family I know oh so well, that she'd love Harry Potter. She'd think Twilight is dumb, but she'd have read it at least.

She'd think about our older sister on those nights when we play Monopoly.

She'd probably have a crush on Mark Harmon like my sister and my mom do.

She'd give me crap for being head over heels for a girl I can't date.

She'd love Chinese the way we all do, and get random cravings for Chipotle.

But until modern Western medicine gives us some kind of super drug, I'll take what I have.

The sister that can't say my name half the time, but if I were sick, would find some way to make me feel better.

The sister I'm usually afraid to take into public, for fear of her braking down, but that I'm so proud of when she learns to say a new word.

The sister that I know will annoy the crap out of me for at least three more years, but I have a heart attack when I see she's holding a knife. [Even if it is a butter knife.]

The sister that I defended when I was eight years old by knocking a class mate out stone cold for calling her dumb in a Wal-mart aisle.

Yeah. I'd love her still. But, I like what I have now anyways.

Like Toy Soldiers

I feel the need to start this with a Myspace-esque survey of questions. But some are so trivial and have no matter in why I'm here.

"What color t-shirt are you wearing?"
Well, it's white. But, why do you care? [Besides, I have a hoodie I got from my brothers Army graduation over it. And that's grey.]

"Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?"
Sure. But, that's not happening.

"What websites do you visit the most?"
Well, like most teenagers, I am a member of multiple social networking sites. I check Facebook multiple times a day. I go on Yahoo frequently, both onthe computer and from my phone. I read multiple blogs, so I am on Blogger a lot. Then there' Twitter and Youtube. I'd rather not talk about how much time I spend on Youtube.

Did those questions inform you anything about my life? From my point of view all you can tell is that I have kissed someone before, that I like white t-shirts and sweatshirts, and I spend too much time on the computer.

Is that who I am?

No.

As a human being, I feel the need to defend myself and say that I am much more complex than that.

Let's see. More MySpace questions.

Name: Kori Needham.
Location: Currently, I'm at school. But to narrow that down, my school is in northern Virginia.
Siblings: Yes. Three, actually. Two older half siblings, and a younger sister. My brother is 21 and in the Army. My older sister is 19 and I have no clue what she's doing in life. We haven't spoken in seven and a half months. My younger sister is only thirteen, and she's autistic. [You'll hear much complaining about her if you stick around for a while.] Now, as the youngest of my older siblings is 19, and my younger sister is 13, you can surmise that I am between 18 and 14. I'll help you out a bit. I'm 16, soon to be 17.
Occupation: Student. Though, I "work" at my church. I do technical stuff for oour high school and middle school youth group. I also preach occasionally for the middle schoolers. I help lead small groups for the middle schoolers. And I work with our children's ministry, mainly being, well, a friend deemed me the "Cruise Director". I make sure people know where to go and when, and how to get there, and then I dance like an idiot for our form of "Worship".

In the end, though, I want to be a pastor.

What can you expect from this blog?

Well, me. [Every now and then, when she gets the fancy to, my bet friend Elizabeth will post on here. But, she's lazy. So, yeah.]

And the blog titles will be just like the name of this blog. Songs. Usually the song I am listening to. Or the ones that is stuck in my head. [The name of the actual blog came from the fact that me and Elizabeth decided to combine the songs that came up when she hit shuffle on her iPod and I blindly picked a song from my Youtube history. (I have no iPod.)]

There will be no set time when I'll update this. Just when I fancy to. I'll try and make sure it's once a week, minimum. But, that may be hard, as in thirty eight days, I leave for Peru.

My churh is going on a missions trip, and I will be going for the second year in a row. I'm pretty darned exciteed. I like and am friends with every one going to Cuzco with me. Actually, one of my closest friends, Travis, will be going with me.

Super excited.

Until later guys.

"So, whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God."

1st Corinthians 10:31