tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56362245927780576292024-03-13T10:55:04.966-07:00Big Pink CakeEmily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-16511816064970784682017-05-14T22:16:00.001-07:002017-05-14T22:16:44.371-07:00Ev.Hey, it's been 10 months since my last post. I can tell you are all so surprised. Also I changed the background from that camera thing to polka dots because I don't know how to do anything else to this blog to make it more interesting.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I moved back to SC to my parents' house from NYC to go back to school and stuff and now I'm working to pay off some bills as well as getting some credits out of the way. There, for the possible one person who I'm not friends with who reads this, you're pretty much caught up on the basics of my life.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Two Sundays ago, April 30th, I went to church then went to work. Pretty standard Sunday. My church is doing a series called "How to Get Unstuck" which has been awesome because, yours truly, is still having a hard time. I'm not nearly as low and down as I was in THE post I shared last summer, but I'm still not totally great. Then I went to work and it was a rather busy day because it was the last day of a sale. I got off at 7.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I got home around 7:10/7:15-ish and walked in my house to my dad talking to my brother about school while my mom tided the kitchen. I was home for a few minutes, told my family about my day, and my mom looked down at her phone and said, "Oh crap. Heather (her sister, my aunt) called me three times in a row. I'm gonna go call her back" and she went outside.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My mom was outside for about a minute when I heard her scream. Her excited screams and her terrified screams sound the same, so, for a brief moment, I thought, "Oh! I bet someone is pregnant or engaged or something," so I ran outside only to see her sitting on the ground, sobbing, with her hand covering her mouth. I just sat next to her for a few seconds when my dad and Alex ran outside. Then she said it. My 18-year old cousin, Evan, died. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It didn't fully smack me for about a minute while I just sat there, stunned and in disbelief that those words had come out of her mouth, then I lost it. Evan Blair Campbell, my wonderful cousin, lost his life in a car accident that day. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I hear stories from people I know where they don't see family members but every few years or so. My family isn't like that. We all see each other, at the very least, twice a year at Christmas and at our summer Kiawah Island trip. My family is close. My family loves really big. My family needs each other.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm the oldest cousin and Evan is next in the lineup. My Aunt Heather named him Evan because I, at the mature age of four, insisted his name had to start with an E. He is my buddy. He is my partner. He is one of my best friends. We drifted as we got older and became teenagers, but we were making our way back to having a better relationship as we both were entering adulthood. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He and I and his younger sister, Erica, refer to ourselves as "The Original E's" since the E trend diminished after us and became just a girls thing. Even though the three of us were "The Originals", Evan loves one-on-one time so he used to always ask, "Emmie, can just me and you spend time?" He would always refer to our time just the two of us as "Spend Time". When we were really little, Spend Time involved some sort of animals. We often made zoos out of blocks and filled it with toy animals. Since elephants are both of our favorites, our zoos were mostly just elephant sanctuaries. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I didn't appreciate enough how much Evan valued Spend Time until I got older. He hasn't asked me to have Spend Time since he was probably 10 until last Christmas when I promised him we'd find time for just us when we would go to the beach this summer. It hurts my heart knowing we won't have one more Spend Time. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The day after Evan went to be with Jesus, we drove down to be with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. My uncle and I had been on the rocks since a fight we'd had last year, but when I saw him, I stopped caring because I realized how stupid it was and I just hugged him and sobbed. He's my family and I won't waste time I have with family on being angry about an argument anymore.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Because of how big my family loves, there were a lot of tears and hugs over that few days. I got to see Evan before he was cremated, which was the hardest thing in the world, but I knew that I'd help me process everything. Evan had Asperger's and was on the autism spectrum. When I saw Evan, lying there, a million things shot through my mind but the biggest one was "He's in Heaven. He's with Christ. He's perfect. <i>He doesn't have Asperger's anymore.</i>"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The two weeks it's been since Evan left have been hard, but I can't remember the last time I've leaned this hard into God's love. I genuinely do not understand how people are able to grieve without it. At a time when one would feel so empty, I feel full. Words cannot describe how much I miss him or how much I wish I could've hugged him tighter the last time I saw him, but at the same time I feel an immense peace that's absolutely unexplainable except by pointing to Christ. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'll be honest, me and God, we haven't been that cool for a while and I really haven't spent time with Him or in His Word in a really long time. But after it happened, the only thing I wanted to do was just sit and worship Him with everything. The song that I've been crying out has been Hillsong's "Prince of Peace"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Your love surrounds me when my thoughts wage war</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When night screams terror, there Your voice will roar</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Come death or shadow, God I know Your light will meet me there</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When fear comes knocking, there You'll be my guard</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
When day breeds trouble, there You'll hold my heart</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Come storm or battle, God I know Your light will meet me there"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I never fully grasped the God's name, "Prince of Peace", until now. A friend encouraged me to read Psalm 91 (which I also encourage you to read) and the imagery of finding refuge under God's wings is exactly want God wants us to do in times of tragedy. He is refuge. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I don't feel like God is punishing my family. I don't believe God "needed another angel" (which He didn't. God needs nothing. Also, people don't become angels when they pass away. Mini-rant). I don't believe God is cruel for taking him. Evan once said that he wanted his legacy to be one that led people to Christ. Since he died two weeks ago, 12 people (that I know of) have met Christ at memorial services for him. How beautiful is that? An 18 year old kid left THAT big of a legacy?!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I know that if he had the option, Evan wouldn't come back. Why would he? He is in the Perfect Place where there is no pain, suffering, (or autism) and there's love, worship, peace, and Gramsie can make him her chocolate cake HERSELF. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So, like all my posts, I don't know if wrote this to help someone, to annoy someone, or to just journal it all, but here you go. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7By_egCrrJU/WRk5srpvKlI/AAAAAAAAARU/L4D69RuNidsIuXJlIq4zaN24enk3YJgqwCLcB/s1600/18194176_10212695870292797_2634013168530356516_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7By_egCrrJU/WRk5srpvKlI/AAAAAAAAARU/L4D69RuNidsIuXJlIq4zaN24enk3YJgqwCLcB/s320/18194176_10212695870292797_2634013168530356516_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-90405855935713427302016-07-25T19:38:00.003-07:002016-08-11T11:57:46.361-07:00I have something to tell you.Hey. I did that thing again where I didn't write a blog post for over a year. Whoops. It's not you guys, my journal gets the same amount of love as this blog does.<br /><br /><br /><br />Truth is, I didn't have anything to blog about last year and this year has been shit-tay. 2016 was supposed to be awesome and Taylor Swift made turning 22 sound like the greatest age I'll ever be. Neither of those two things turned out to be true so far.<br /><br /><br /><br />For the first half of the year, I chalked up my depressive state as period hormones (I'm not one of those who pretends it's not her period that gives her mood swings. It's totally my period, most of the time). But it wasn't until a few months had passed when I looked at myself and thought "Um, my period isn't a constant thing, so why am I feeling this way?" But, because of my half-full attitude, I decided to pretend like these feelings weren't real.<br /><br /><br /><br />I went on living as happy-go-lucky Emily when I was out and about, but when I was by myself, this cloud came around. This cloud only ever showed up when I was alone. The cloud was really dark and it would sometimes rain (not in a good way, because I love real rain). It was the worst when it rained. It ate at me. It whispered confidence destroying thoughts. It made me doubt my faith in God. It made me feel like my life had zero meaning. But the majority of the time, I'd try to talk myself out of the cloud until something or someone distracted me and it would disappear.<br /><br /><br /><br />Then it happened. I had a panic attack.<br /><br /><br /><br />I had never, ever had a panic attack before. I've had so many friends in high school and college who had them relatively frequently and struggled with depression, so I knew how to talk people down from them and help them cool off. But that wasn't working on myself. I was weeping and shaking and I was by myself in my room. I went into the kitchen and grabbed a knife for the first time. Before I did anything, I looked up and told God that if I wasn't supposed to do this, then to wake up one of my roommates. I held the knife above my wrist and I heard the door open and one of my roommates walked in the bathroom to pee. I dropped the knife on the ground and fell and sobbed harder. I felt God whispering to me, "You're still mine." I cried, listened to some worship music, then eventually fell asleep.<br /><br /><br /><br />I was good for about a week. I was feeling myself again and doing okay. Then I had another one out of the blue on the subway. The subway was PACKED with rush hour traffic and I was shaking, sobbing, snot-nosed, and out-loud weeping and not a single person acknowledged me. Then I remembered we had church group at my house that night and I freaked out about the idea of being around people that loved me because I didn't want people to know I was going through this. I texted my roommate that I was going to stay in my room for group because I just couldn't be around them. I ran to my room and started googling how many aspirin it would take to kill someone of my height and weight. I was about to go get the meds from my kitchen when I remembered my living room was full of women. Something came over me and I called my parents.<br /><br /><br /><br />My mom answered the phone "Hello?" and I couldn't find words. I just paused, she heard me cry and asked me what was wrong. "Mom, I'm not okay." She told me she could tell I hadn't been myself, despite my illusion that I was normal. I wept and I told her about my panic attack and she talked to me for a little bit. She asked me if I wanted to talk to my dad and I said yes. He got on the phone and I told him about the state of me and the cloud that was always around. He encouraged me to go in my living room and be with my friends, despite me being terrified of them seeing me like this. He then put me on speakerphone and told my mom and my brother that they were going to pray for me. He prayed for 10 minutes and he sobbed. I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen my dad cry, and this might have been a close second to the hardest I've ever seen him cry. I remember him saying "Lord. We don't want to lose her." and I cried too because I hadn't even told him about the knife or the aspirin. After my family prayed for me, and I promised to start looking for help resources at church, I hung up and sat with my friends in my living room.<br /><br /><br /><br />Nothing as extreme as those two instances have happened since then, but the cloud is definitely still real. I reached out to the mental health team at church and told them what was happening. They gave me Christian counseling and therapy recommendations in the city. I called my parents and told them that I met with someone about getting help, but I still put off actually calling the recommendations I was given. I still wasn't fully convinced something was wrong with me.<br /><br /><br /><br />Then one day, the cloud was around and followed me to the subway. It whispered to me "If you jump in front of the train, it could look like an accident and no one would know" so instead of running the errand I was supposed to run, I went straight to the counseling office and filled out an application.<br /><br /><br />While waiting for my application to process, I visited SC to see friends and family like I do every summer. While home, my parent's church was doing a night of worship. I love nights of worship and my church in NYC doesn't do them very often. After it was over (I cried, a lot. The whole dang time) my friend's mom came over to me and asked to pray for me and to talk with me. She didn't know what had been going on with me, but she told me God just gave her a picture of me, wearing a Red Riding Hood cloak ("in very Emily Krull fashion" she put) but the cloak was black instead of red. It was black because I was hiding and running away from God. And that I needed to stop running so I could wear a red cloak again and BE Emily again. She prayed for me, a lot more tears came.<br /><br /><br />I've now been going to counseling for a few weeks. It was so weightlifting to tell my counselor about these suicidal thoughts without having them burst into tears and tell me how my life had worth. Instead she told me that we were going to work on finding the root of this cloud. She explained to me about the "positions" we take with God. How we're supposed to be on our knees in surrender vs standing on our own trying to fix ourselves (which DING DING DING, what I have been doing). She told me that she wanted us to work on me to find my way to a sitting position, instead of standing and working my way to my knees in surrender again.<br /><br /><br /><br />I took a step back from both my leadership positions at church as choir director and youth group leader. I need rest, desperately. I need time to remember how to sit so I can eventually surrender to Jesus again. I'm not in a place to encourage others. I told my leader, our youth pastor, that I needed to take a break and he said "It's our job as Christians to help build the church. But you're part of the church, too. And if you're not being built up, then you absolutely should take the break you need."<br /><br /><br />So this is what's happening. I'm going to counseling. I'm finding who I am in my faith again. I'm learning to breathe again (cue Switchfoot song). <br /><br /><br />It's taken me a month to write this. Well, I wrote it, edited it a few times, saved it as a draft, re-read it, thought it was dumb, then didn't look at it again for a week. I'm really scared about opening up this much to my friends and family all at one time with posting this. But I decided it was time to share it because last night a friend told me about what they'd been going through and it sounded an awful lot like what you just read. I guess I just wanted to encourage people who also have a cloud that no one knows about to tell someone they're not okay. Because I was the queen of creating the illusion of bubbly-best-mood-ever girl. My social media was loading with nothing but wit and silliness as much as possible (I PRIDE myself in have the goofiest snapchat stories). Only a handful of people knew that I wasn't my full self and even less people knew just how bad it was. <br /><br /><br />So if you're still reading this, please don't be upset that I didn't tell you what I've been going through. Please don't blast me with "I'm so sorry!", "I had no idea!", "Why didn't you tell me?", and other comments of that sort. Because that's not why I'm sharing this. I'm not telling the world this story to get sympathy or to ask people to feel bad for me. I'm telling you this because I want you to stop pretending like you're okay if you're not. <br /><br /><br />The almond branch is the first to blossom in the spring and the last to bear fruit in the fall.<br /><br /><br />Jeremiah 1:11, Mark 5:34, Psalm 23, 2 Cor. 4:6 <br />Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-24570395998444406002015-01-08T08:18:00.001-08:002015-01-08T08:18:58.209-08:00Two letters-An apology and a changeMajority of my friends know and are full aware that I've been a Jesus freak for most of my life. I used to be one of those "love the sinner hate the sin" type of Christian, but my perspective has changed a tad. So I've decided to write two letters, an apology for nonChristians and perspective change for Christians.<div><br></div><div>Dear Non-Christians,</div><div><br></div><div>I, Emily Krull, would like to publicly apologize for the way many Christians act/treat you. We're supposed to be loving towards you and the majority of us are not. I'm sorry. </div><div><br></div><div>If any Christian has ever told you you're a sinner and you're going to hell because of your lifestyle or what you believe in, I'm sorry. I don't know why so many of us think we have the authority to talk to you that way. </div><div><br></div><div>If you have been hurt, bullied, looked down on by a Christian ever in your life, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry we don't live what we preach. </div><div><br></div><div>Christians who treat you the way that you do are the reason I have to clarify WHAT KIND OF Christian I am when I tell people. </div><div><br></div><div>All I ask is for you to give Christians a second chance. We're not all like Westboro Baptist Church (people like that embarass me). I refuse to surround myself with "Christians" like that. I hate that we built a reputation for ourselves that is the exact OPPOSITE of what we believe in. If you ever hear me, personally, saying anything hurtful, please, call me out on it.</div><div><br></div><div>Again, I'm so sorry. </div><div><br></div><div>Emily </div><div><div><br></div><div>Dear Christians,</div><div><br></div><div>I'm pretty sure we all love Jesus (hence why we're Christians). But I feel like some of us forget that that's kinda the important part. Being a Christian isn't about telling people they're sinners, it's about telling people about the unconditional love our Savior gave us. </div><div><br></div><div>"Love the sinner hate the sin" ISNT YOUR JOB. We were given two jobs as Christians in Matthew 22:36-40. (We all read our Bibles, look it up). If your Bible isn't around you, let me paraphrase-</div><div><br></div><div>Jesus was asked what the greatest commandment was. He gave two answers</div><div>1-Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength</div><div>2-Love your neighbor as yourself</div><div><br></div><div>Pointing out sin isn't our job. Unless you're a pastor or a mentor-type figure in someone's life, you don't have the authority to tell someone they're sinning. </div><div><br></div><div>How about instead of "love the sinner hate the sin", we just...love? Don't even acknowledge the sin. We're not Jesus. It's not our job. We're supposed to be "Christ-LIKE" not Christ himself. </div><div><br></div><div>So please, stop. Just love people. That's all. If you just love, you're doing exactly what Jesus told you to do. </div><div><br></div><div>Emily. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div></div>Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-15456872305329271652014-12-10T21:56:00.000-08:002014-12-11T08:06:42.253-08:00Beauty, Twitter, and the VS Fashion Show last night.As per usual, it's probably been forever since I've posted. I wish I was a cool, frequent blogger like some of my friends, but I'm kind of scatterbrained and don't always think all my bouncy thoughts are all that important most of the time. So to the 3 people who actually pay attention to my blog-I (again) apologize for the extreme gaps between posts.<br />
<br />
Also, anyone who knows me knows I'm a total Jesus-freak, but I'm gonna leave Jesus and religion out of this post as much as possible because I believe this applies to everyone regardless of your beliefs and I don't want anyone who's not a Christian to think I'm trying to convert you.<br />
<br />
This is not another one of those "VS MODELS ARE UNREALISTIC" type posts, either. (Basic.)<br />
<br />
Last night was the Annual Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. While although I didn't watch it (I was too busy hanging out with some of my favorite people in all of NYC), VS IS my employer, so I'm a supporter of the fashion show (or else I'd get fired…just kidding). I DID however keep up with Twitter throughout the evening and saw the never-ending feed of tweets from girls about how they'll never look like the models do. One post actually said, "models vs me" with two photos underneath: one of Adriana Lima and another of a potato.<br />
<br />
I mean, c'mon, a POTATO?! Don't we ladies realize how beautiful we are? Whether you think we were all designed or we were all by chance-don't you recognize how unique we are individually? Why do you need to look like Candice Swanepoel (who many of my co-workers have met, she's pretty nice)? She's beautiful. YOU'RE beautiful. You want to know why you're BOTH beautiful? Because who gave us the authority to decide who/what is beautiful and what's not?<br />
<br />
Why can't you just be…you? Let Candice Swanepoel be Candice Swanepoel. Let Emily Krull be Emily Krull. And you let yourself be you. There's an awesome quote by Amy Poehler where she simply states "I always wanted to grow up to be Amy Poehler." You should have that attitude about yourself. Look like you. Be you. When you're getting ready for the day, don't put on an outfit because you liked the way it looked in the catalog, put it on because you look hot in it. Don't' do your makeup a certain way because winged eyeliner is in, do your makeup in a way that makes you feel good about yourself.<br />
<br />
Some people that I'm close with have expressed to me that they think I look better with a natural lip versus the bold red lip that I like to use everyday. My response? I politely tell them that I don't care because I like the way I look. I like my red lipstick. Not because I want attention. Not because I wanna look like Taylor Swift. Not because I'm seeking your approval. I wear red lipstick because I think I look badass in it and it gives me confidence.<br />
<br />
Do what makes you confident.<br />
<br />
Another woman's beauty doesn't devalue your own. Honestly, we should appreciate each other's beauty. I think Audrey Hepburn is the classiest, most radiant lady to ever grace planet earth. Do I want to BE her? (Well,…I mean…if I'm being honest-sometimes). But at the end of the day, I want to look like Emily Krull.<br />
<br />
YOU GUYS, we should compliment each other more. Tell your best friend her eyes look really cool with the headband she's wearing. Tell your mom she looks hot today. Tell your Starbucks barista you like her eyeshadow. Tell the H&M cashier you like her blouse. Tell a random girl on your morning commute that her boots are cool. We need to encourage each other. Build each other up. Because the constant comparison is ripping us apart. And little do you know-it's ripping you apart.<br />
<br />
Don't insult the way another person looks. If someone's being a douche, call them out. There's far too many douchebags in the world. But don't ever insult the way another person puts themselves together. Because guess what? It actually kills.<br />
<br />
Kylie Jenner got a lot of crap for the rumor as to whether or not she got lip injections and she doesn't really seem to care. If she did or if she didn't, she likes the way she looks. Let her feel confident. That's awesome she feels good about herself.<br />
<br />
I guess all I'm trying to say is, don't let another woman's beauty belittle how you look at yourself in the mirror. Encourage others. Because when you compliment another woman, you'll slowly but surely start to believe that compliment about yourself, as well. You're awesome. I love when you just be you. You badass, you.<br />
<br />Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-54267276147634365032014-09-16T22:46:00.001-07:002014-09-16T22:46:08.738-07:00*Delete*Isn't it funny to think that being deleted from someone's friends list is considered insulting? The average person has about 500 friends on their list (I don't know, that's a guestimation) when 200 years ago, the average person didn't even meet 500 people in their lifetime (okay, another possible inaccurate guestimation). And if we get deleted from someone's friends list, we begin to question everything we've done to that person that would give them reason to delete us. We analyze the past month of conversations and wonder where we went wrong. (Oh, not everyone does that? Only me? Oh well. You can stop reading now then, cause I'm just silly).<div><br></div><div>Sometimes people need to be cut out of your life, though. It sucks. It's tear-jerking. And it all around makes your internal organs unhappy. It sounds cliche to say that people will always be coming and going through your life, but it's true. Some people just quietly fade in for a season and then quietly fade back out when the season is over. Other times it's abrupt jump into your life and then a crazy sprint out. (In case you didn't know, the second one is usually the harder one).</div><div><br></div><div>Like I said, it sucks. And even though it really makes our hearts super duper sad, the reality of it is, is that we're taken from strength to strength if we truly believe it. </div><div><br></div><div>I usually have a pretty optimistic viewpoint on life, but sometimes that glass half full mentality is annoying. You know, those days where you just want to sit and be mad for a little while, we all have them, but we gotta suck it up, guys. The glass is half full whether we like it or not. </div><div><br></div><div>That old season that you loved so dearly and held so close? It's time to be like Elsa and let it go. I KNOW. IT SUCKS. But this new season will be so much better than we can imagine. The transition between these two seasons can really be a pill and a half, but we gotta keep tugging on.</div><div><br></div><div> It's like waiting for the next book in your favorite book series to come out. You REALLY loved book 4 of Whilly the Walrus and you're sad it's over. You may even go back and re-read some of your favorite parts, but it's not the same as the first time you read it. But Whilly the Walrus book 5 doesn't come out for 2 more months. What do you do until then? Keep yourself busy with things you need to work out and work on and next thing you know, it's time to go to Borders (which I know is currently out of business, but Whilly the Walrus isn't real, this is just a fantasy). </div><div><br></div><div>So I guess what I'm trying to say is that that heartbreak that makes you want to stay in bed and eat ice cream is only going to lead to something better (IF YOU LET IT-but that's a different post for a different day). </div><div><br></div><div>I apologize (as I seem to always do) if this post seemed scatter brained, but that's kinda who I am sometimes. </div><div><br></div><div>Just remember you're not alone. And you're loved. </div>Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-83379886803162755402014-08-10T21:04:00.001-07:002014-08-10T21:04:06.751-07:00Silly Emily, You're Not God.I was texting a very near and dear friend (you know who you are) asking them about their day. They were being very short and quiet (yes, you can be quiet via text message) and I asked if everything was okay. The reply began with "Em, I'm gonna be honest…" which you know means you probably messed up.<br />
<br />
My very very important friend proceeded to tell me that they had been distant from me because they always bend over backwards for me and I don't reciprocate. In fact, I got mad being told no when I wanted to hear a yes or yes when I wanted to hear a no. I'm stubborn. I want my way too much.<br />
<br />
One of my little cousins (who was actually VERY little when he said this) once said, "'Fair' is when I get exactly my way," (that's probably not word-for-word, but you get it). I like fair. Everyone likes fair. We all would like life to be fair. But life's not supposed to be fair.<br />
<br />
When my friend told me that, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I'm not one to defend myself easily unless it's someone I'm close with. If someone I don't know that well told me something I didn't like about myself, I'd just be all "Okay, thanks!" But if you're close with me, I will fight you and defend myself until you give up (9 times out of 10 though I realize that that was dumb and I go back and apologize).<br />
<br />
But this time was different, as soon as I read that I realized how right they were. I do expect my way. I began to apologize to my friend and suddenly I began to rant about how I needed to not expect my way in several aspects of my life. I'm not God.<br />
<br />
As I was ranting to my friend about how stubborn of a person I actually am, I realized that I was doing that with God. Several times in my life God has told me things I felt-I like to call them-absolute. I had felt like God told me some "absolutes" (but at the end of the day, it's God's plan, not mine, I shouldn't call them that anymore) and I was just kinda waiting around for them to happen. I liked the sound of the "absolutes" so I just kinda expected God to just make it happen.<br />
<br />
It was like I was playing God and God was my butler who got me what I wanted. Which is ridiculous. And flat-out silly.<br />
<br />
The other day I lost it in the middle of work because I felt like I was going nowhere in my life and I had no idea what I was doing. But what was I doing the past six months? Waiting for God to make what I want happen. But God's not this genie that we just ask for what we want and we get it. Nope nope.<br />
<br />
I left work early that day and cried my eyes out-angry at God for not giving me what I wanted (people say that my two-year old cousin and I are kindred spirits-I guess we're really not that different after all-I throw tantrums about my way too). I called my mom and she told me that I can't just sit around waiting for God to just give me all the answers. That in the mean time I need to pursue something and He will reveal himself in time-like he always does.<br />
<br />
After further pursuing the things that my mom recommended to me, within a week I had interviewed for an elevated position at work (which rumor has it I'm probably going to get) and got an email about a director being interested in me for a commercial. While I don't know if I got the job or the commercial yet, at least I'm finally pursuing something. I'm not sitting at home watching Netflix (as much) and watching the clock on my phone pass me by.<br />
<br />
I'm not God. I don't get my way. And I can't wait around for God to GIVE me my way. Because He has so much more in store. Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-847059665518648962014-07-17T06:28:00.000-07:002014-07-17T06:28:14.932-07:00A House is Not a Home-Unconditional Love. I spent the past two weeks in my home state, South Carolina. Going back is always just what I needed. And my trips never seem to last as long as I'd like them to. New York City never really felt like HOME to me.<br />
<br />
Before going back to SC I was so incredibly excited to finally go back, I told everyone "I'm going home in a couple of days!"<br />
<br />
But this time everything just felt different. I had the brutal (and one would think obvious) realization that my friend's and family's lives didn't stop while I was gone. The changes I felt weren't major but they were enough to make me feel kind of queazy.<br />
<br />
One night I sat on my bed and cried my eyes out because I felt like I didn't have a home anymore. NYC never felt like home. My SC bedroom didn't feel like my bedroom anymore. I won't hyperbolize the situation and say that I was "homeless" but my heart was really hurting.<br />
<br />
I hate crying because when I cry, my heart starts to physically hurt and the chest pain becomes so great that I start to cry over that on top of the heartbreak cry. This cry was rough. I cried out to God, "Why did you send me to NYC? I don't even want to do what I originally went there to do, so can't I just start over somewhere else? Why can't I stay here with my family and live life with them?"<br />
<br />
I was so heartbroken that I called my best friend to talk to them. As soon as they said "Hello?" I couldn't find my words because I was so out of breath from crying. "Just breathe, take your time. I'll stay on the phone until you're ready to talk". And they just listened. "Breathe." they reminded me (sometimes I accidentally hold my breath and I don't realize it until I let out a huge breath, it's bad).<br />
<br />
When I finally caught my breath and had the ability to speak, I told my best friend just exactly what I was feeling. They tried to convince me that because I was surrounded by people that loved me, I was home. "It's not the same," I kept repeating, "It's not the same".<br />
<br />
Finally they said to me, "Emily, you have Jesus in your heart. You have a Father up above who loves you so much more than I ever could. Home is where the heart is, and if your heart is focused on Jesus, you're always home. Paris, NYC, Australia, SC, you're always home because Jesus has you."<br />
<br />
I'd been struggling with calling NYC my "home" for two years (which is actually how long I've lived there). I always referred to it as home just because it was too much effort to say "the place where I'm currently living".<br />
<br />
When I first moved to NYC, the song "Home" by Phillip Phillips played as I drove into the city (which I'm fairly certain I've blogged about before). The lyric that always stood out to me was "Just know you're not alone, cause I'm gonna make this place your home," and I always heard it as the Lord telling me that NYC was going to be my new home. But it's not what it was, it was my Jesus telling me that "Home is where I am, and I am always with you."<br />
<br />
I felt so incredibly loved when my best friend told me that. Loved by my Father. An unconditional love.<br />
<br />
This is why I'm a Christian. Not because I want to follow a rule book. Not because I think I'm better than others. Not because I like my church. Not because I like the music. I'm a Christian because I get to know an unconditional love. I get to have moments a few nights ago in my bedroom where I'm reminded that I'm never alone (I don't know why I need a reminding, but I never get scolded for needing it).<br />
<br />
Proverbs 16:9 says "In their hearts humans, plan their course but the Lord establishes their steps." I think that's why it's called "WALKING" with the Lord. It's like learning to waltz with Jesus. You make the decision to learn, He takes you in His arms, He teaches you and guides you until you learn the proper steps; but instead of letting you go on your own, He still holds on.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I think that I can dance on my own and to my own beat, but I'm reminded who the perfect dance partner is. Sometimes He moves me in a direction that doesn't make sense to me, but it always ends up becoming a beautiful piece of the dance.<br />
<br />
Dancing with Jesus is my home.<br />
<br />
I hope this post was a little less scatter-brained than some of my previous posts, but I post these for me.Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-54509355283249653452014-03-15T11:11:00.000-07:002014-03-15T11:13:41.580-07:00Son of God-How Deep the Father's LoveWhenever I get around to writing a blog post, I'm always annoyed with myself that it's always probably been about six months since my last post. Well, let's just ignore that fact so I can tell you what I got out of the new movie <i>Son of God</i>.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
While <i>Son of God</i> had a few Biblical inaccuracies, I still found myself sobbing the whole movie. From the <i>Heaven is For Real </i>trailer until the ending credits (you can ask my roommate, she'll tell you it's true) I could not stop crying. Jesus' birth, His miracles, His death, even when the children ran to him and He hugged them, I was crying. I knew all the stories that were put into the movie, what was going to happen, what Jesus does, (basically it wasn't the thriller-let's just say I already read the book). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One day someone once asked me why the death of Jesus is known to be the most torture a human has ever endured. They began to name off several historical instances where human beings had received worse torture. Back then, I didn't have an answer. But during this movie I thought of that conversation and it really hit me. I knew the correct answer, but I didn't know how to put it into words then- Jesus went through all this <i>physical</i> torture, but <i>spiritually </i>was receiving the most torture a human has ever endured. Jesus died for the <i>sins of every person EVER.</i> From the little white lie a child tells their parents, to a man robbing a bank. Jesus died for <i>everyone.</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
During the death of Jesus, (while sobbing) I turned to my roommate and said to her "I just really love Jesus," and right then I heard the Holy Spirit say to me "But I love you more, do you see what I did?" Then the already sobbing Emily just lost it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Throughout the whole movie, (especially during the death scene) the lyric "How deep the Father's love for us" kept playing in my head. I've always loved Jesus, but I don't think there has ever been a time in my life that I've felt so in love with my Savior. That's all I can really say. That's the only way I know how to put it. I'm in love with Jesus. There. End of Story. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-16950451559323294952013-11-17T23:00:00.001-08:002013-11-17T23:00:25.292-08:00Single.1 year, 3 months, and 23 days I was with this boy. It's been almost a month since we broke up. It's safe to assume that this month has been extremely hard. While everyone in the world knows who he is, he's going to remain nameless for now. This post is not to bash him. It's to show what I've learned from the breakup.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was watching Perry Noble online this past Sunday (a new hobby I've been doing a lot lately) and he was talking about lies that women believe. The lie he focused on in this message was "I'm not good enough". Which led him into naming things that women identify themselves in. Some of them were things like appearance, career, etc. Things I felt fine about...until he said "relationships".</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When he got to relationships he began to go on about how people let relationships become their identity. While watching this I realized, I was identifying myself in my relationship. And being with the boy became my whole world. It became all I thought about, all I cared about.<br />
<br />
He became my identity. <br />
<br />
But he is not my identity. In Christ I am priceless. In Christ I am CUSTOM DESIGNED. God knew how much I was going to screw up. God knew all the sins I was going to commit and He made me anyway. <br />
<br />
TRUTH-IN CHRIST I AM COMPLETE. <br />
<br />
I took a long time to write this blog post, but I finally decided to finish it tonight. But today I'm telling you that my identity is a daughter of Christ. <br />
<br />
Psalm 139:13-18<br />
</div>
Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-8762149708329395702013-07-24T14:16:00.000-07:002013-07-24T14:16:03.100-07:00My Family >>>>>>Recently I had made some plans and decisions that I was ridiculously excited about. Plans to meet someone I'd never met before, but their existance still mattered to me. My family were all supporting me and excited for me to meet this person for the first time.<br />
<br />
Well, let's just say that these plans "fell through" (which is an understatement, but I won't go into detail).<br />
<br />
My heart was broken. When I first contacted this person I prepared myself for the worst. But when things started looking up, that's when we made plans to meet and I began to let my guard down and get my hopes up. This person failed me. And I have no intentions of meeting them (ever) now.<br />
<br />
My family's hearts broke right along with mine. They were just as angry as I am. They were just as hurt as I am.<br />
<br />
I say "am" in the previous sentences because I'm still hurt and still angry. But I'm slowly healing.<br />
<br />
Through all this I realized how thankful I am for this wonderful family I have. They're so wonderful and supportive. I wouldn't trade any of them for this one person. All of them are so dear to me. From the youngest to the oldest. They're so important to me. And I'm so blessed.Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-16972753858604600712013-07-22T15:31:00.000-07:002013-07-22T17:33:25.831-07:00Life.<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I couldn't think of a clever title for this post, because it's honestly going to be a tad bit all over the place. I've had a lot of struggles since I've started my third semester or college, although, some of them rooted long before. This is the story of me putting the pieces together.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I've expressed to my friends and family lately, I'm exhausted. Finding a good balance between school, work, homework, and an attempt at a social life is HARD right now. School is all of a sudden MUCH harder than it was my first two semesters, and I live 30 minutes away from work (which takes an hour out of my day, everyday, that could be spent on my piles of homework).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because of all of this exhaustion, I began to think I was not cut out for this city and career and all it requires. I began doubting myself in every single way. For those of you who know me very well, I don't come off like the type of girl who has self-confidence issues. But I do. You just can't tell. (I AM an actor, after all). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've always thought God made me beautiful-as He made all His children beautiful. But personality-wise, emotionally, spiritually, school, etc. I felt like I was just about as average and boring as can be. I never thought good things about myself because I have a paranoia of becoming too arrogant. Once I start to feel proud of myself, the enemy would tell me I was being cocky. So I'd shut that part of me down.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well lately, that teeny tiny bit of me that had confidence was practically microscopic. I felt like I was going to school and I didn't even know what for anymore. I doubted myself and God's plan for me. I began to even wonder if He even HAD a plan for me anymore.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But then.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One day I was sitting in my musical theatre class and this girl came up and sang "Watch What Happens" from Newsies. (Which is an AMAZING show that I would highly recommend. If you wanna hear the song, click <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MB8tuCcz0Cg">here</a>.) This is a song I've known for quite a while, and I know all the lyrics (and there's a LOT of lyrics in this song.) But for some reason, when Noa went up to sing the song-these lyrics stuck out to me.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<span class="line line-s" id="line_19" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Give life's little guys some ink, and when it dries just watch what happens.</span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_19" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Those kids will live and breathe right on the page</span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_19" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and once they're center stage, you watch what happens.</span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_19" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And who's there with her camera and her pen </span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_19" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">as boys turn into men</span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_19" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">they'll storm the gates and then just watch what happens when they do."</span></span></div>
<span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;">Well. If that doesn't put it right out in the open, I don't know what does. "Life's little guys" is Jesus. He's writing my story. And I just have to watch what happens when the ink dries! I almost started crying when she was singing this song. I felt so good!</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;">That feeling lasted about 3 days.</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="line line-s" id="line_19" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;">And then I remembered how exhausted I was and that amazingly safe and loved feeling I had was gone. Again. </span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;">But God didn't stop reminding me that I need to be patient. I was reading my Bible and I stumbled on this:</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;">Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory He will reveal to us later.-Romans 8:19</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;">Then again on Sunday He gave me another reminder. I missed church, so I was watching Perry Noble online and I began to watch <a href="http://newspring.cc/series/chains/escaping-the-chains-of-circumstances/">this sermon</a>. In this sermon, Pastor Perry Noble is talking about when Paul was in prison. He casted a demon out of a little girl, then was seized, dragged, attacked, and then thrown into prison. All because the girl's masters wanted the demon in her because it made her tell the future. Then he begins to talk about how Paul and Silas began worshiping the Lord after having the worst day ever. </span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;">I began to cry there because I realized that I needed to worship my God in this time of exhaustion I'm still going through. Then I remembered when I posted <a href="http://bigbigpinkcake.blogspot.com/2010_12_01_archive.html">this</a>. If you don't have time to read it-I'm sum it up. In 2010, a childhood friend of mine died in a terrible car accident. He was only 16. I hadn't seen him or his mom (who worked at my school) in ages. When I went to the funeral, a worship band came up and sang "How Great is Our God" (Derrick was on the praise and worship team). As I sang this song I've known my whole life, I looked over at Derrick's mom and there she was, her hand in the air, praising our God. At her own son's funeral, she was worshiping our Jesus. (this story still makes me cry-I'm crying as I'm typing this).</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;">I used to remind myself of Derrick's mom, Melissa whenever I began to go through something I thought that was hard. But as of lately, I became so consumed in my own problems, I felt like worshiping God wasn't going to fix anything. </span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;">I was so wrong.</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;">I've realized that being confident in myself doesn't make my cocky, it means I'm trusting what God has given me, where He's put me, and what He's going to be doing with me. And with that, I need to be praising Him every single step of the way.</span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span><span class="line line-s" id="line_25" style="border: 0px; display: block; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 5px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span>Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-69349265114107432702013-06-30T17:15:00.001-07:002013-06-30T17:15:53.438-07:00Jason and HeidiI made a mistake. A mistake I wish I could take back. I'd prayed about it, and I'd been forgiven by my Jesus. I decided I would be honest with people about my mistake if anyone ever asked. But more than anything, I did not want my parents to know.<br />
<br />
I love my parents. More than anything. My mom and I have been best friends since forever. And my dad adopted me when I was 9 so that I could legally be his daughter (how awesome is that?). I've always gone to my parents with everything. And I mean EVERYTHING.<br />
<br />
But when it came to my mistake, they were the last people on Earth I wanted to find out.<br />
<br />
When I was home on vacation, I talked with a dear friend of mine about my mistake. I told her that I was paranoid they would find out. And she said to me, "Well, maybe you're supposed to tell them." When she said that to me, my immediate thought was, "HECK NO." But as the week went on, God told me several times that I couldn't keep lying to my parents about my mistake.<br />
<br />
So I owned up to it.<br />
<br />
One morning while I was home, I went downstairs and told my dad. A half hour later, I went upstairs and told my mom. They were disappointed. (Which in case your parents have never told you that, it's feels worse than being grounded for 90 years.) I felt terrible. They were broken hearted. It was a rough week.<br />
<br />
Because of my mistake, new rules were put into place. New rules that made me angry. (I often struggle with the fact that I'm still my parents' kid, even though I'm a legal adult and living on my own most of the year.) But I decided that as angry as they made me, I still respected them and their decisions.<br />
<br />
Throughout the week I became less angry at the new rules and more thankful of my parents for caring so much and wanting to protect me. I mean, they spent my whole life trying to teach me to be a Godly woman. With the new rules in place, I found myself spending more time with them at home and realizing (well, not realizing, I always knew) how much they really love me.<br />
<br />
Mom and Dad (if you're reading this)-<br />
I love you guys. I'm sorry for my mistake. It breaks my heart that I made you guys feel the way you do right now. You guys have been the greatest parents that anyone could ever ask for. I often pray that one day I'll be the parent that you guys have been to me the past 19 years (well dad, 13 years-but you know what I mean). I miss you both every single day and I wish I spent more time at home with you guys before I went away to school. I'm sorry if you guys ever felt like I didn't appreciate you. Because I do. Knowing that I'm not going to get to see you guys until Thanksgiving (at the earliest) makes me so sad. I can't wait to see you again. I love you.<br />
<br />
-Emmie<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RfagrorZhp0/UdDKJxkNWsI/AAAAAAAAALo/JFiYnygOU00/s640/photo+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RfagrorZhp0/UdDKJxkNWsI/AAAAAAAAALo/JFiYnygOU00/s320/photo+(1).JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
And Alex is pretty cool too ;)Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-49659240525431895372013-06-29T19:20:00.000-07:002013-06-29T19:20:17.802-07:00Psalm 23The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He lets me rest in Green meadows, he leads me beside peaceful streams. He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to his name. Even though I walk through the darkest valley I will fear no evil for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies. You honor me by anointing my head with oil. My cup overflows with blessings. Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life and I will live in the house of the LORD forever.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Psalm 23</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The Lord pointed out this chapter to me three different times over the past week and a half. Psalm 23 was a chapter I could practically recite to almost anyone because even the newest Christian has heard it before. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
However, as many times as I've heard this chapter, it never really sunk in until I was at the beach last week. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For those of you who don't know, I'm a musical theatre student studying in New York City. I'm in a two year conservatory, and as of three weeks ago I'm halfway done with my studies. And in case some of you didn't know-living in New York City is not easy and is not cheap. I do live in the dormitory housing until I graduate, but the thought of TRULY living on my own in a matter of a few months began to stress me out.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Stress has always been a weird thing for me. I either don't stress NEARLY enough or I stress WAY to much to the point I make myself sick.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This stress was the time of stress where I was making myself sick. Thoughts of finding an apartment, roommates, a steady job, etc., etc. were constantly on my mind. I was also beginning to wonder WHY I was brought to NYC, WHY I was doing musical theatre, WHY this, WHY that.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then, one Sunday just a few weeks ago a guest speaker came to speak at my church (Hillsong NYC). He told us that it isn't really our place to question God "WHY?" we just have to trust in Him that His love endures forever. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That hit me harder than when I cracked my head on the coffee table when I was five.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I told myself to stop questioning God all the time because it wasn't my place. And it made everyday life a little bit easier.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But that didn't stop me from worrying. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For those of you who don't know, there's 19 of us on my mom's side of the family. And all 19 of us go to the beach together almost every year. I'm the oldest of the grandchildren which is sometimes awkward. I'm expected to keep the kids busy (which I love, don't get my wrong. My cousins mean everything to me) but at the same time I want to spend time with the adults and have grown up conversations. Another awkward thing is that when I was younger, I lived super close to almost all my aunts and uncles, so when I'm at the beach- I have 86 parents.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But this time I didn't mind having 86 parents. I needed the love and advice. And I'm so incredibly thankful for them. My Uncle "Brasky" in particular really helped me out and made me feel more confident about what I'm doing.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Even though I had gotten tons of advice throughout the week from family members, I didn't feel safe (if that's the right word) in what I was doing. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then one night at around midnight I pulled up my Bible on my phone and Psalm 23 was the first thing that came up. I began to sob. God reminded me that I have nothing to fear and that He is always with me. With reading those six verses all my stress was lifted off my shoulders. God reminded me that I had A-time, B-support C-a loving family and D(most importantly)- HIM! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I think every college student needs to remind themselves of Psalm 23. "And if our God is for us, then who shall every stop us? And if our God is with us, then what can stand against?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
</div>
Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-47268193311424887042012-12-08T08:56:00.002-08:002012-12-08T08:56:59.984-08:00Destination: NY Part 2As I left off a while ago, I didn't get to go on the NYC trip.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to the beginning of senior year. I'm 17 now and working on college applications. I didn't quite know where I wanted to go yet. I was planning on applying to Winthrop, App State, and Anderson. All three are within 3 hours of my house.<br />
<br />
Then one day I get a letter in the mail from the American Musical and Dramatic Academy. Apparently I'd been offered the VIP application. Meaning I could apply with no application fee, and if I got in, I would recieve a scholarship. As soon as I read the letter I sat at our bar stool and thought about what it'd be like moving to NYC. I began to cry. I was scared. My mom told me, "Just apply, you can think about the move later." I didn't know God had just told me, again, that I was going to NYC.Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-64174091927051906362012-11-25T20:20:00.000-08:002012-11-25T20:20:27.579-08:00Shortie postIn our classes at AMDA our teachers always say, "TURN ON YOUR LIGHTS!". And by lights, they mean your performance lights to where you light up a room with your talent.<br />
<br />
Well I stumbled upon this verse today<br />
<br />
Let your light so shine that others see your good works and glorify your father in Heaven.<br />
Matthew 5:16<br />
<br />
Lights apply in every part of my life now. I need to shine for Jesus and not just myself.<br />
<br />
TURN ON YOUR LIGHTS PEOPLE! <br />
<br />
That's all for today.Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-6968918749214833362012-11-21T10:51:00.003-08:002012-11-21T10:51:49.002-08:00Not About MeOnce again, I really want to post continuations as to how I got to NYC story blogs, but more things keep happening to me that I need to post about instead.<br />
<br />
This past Friday, my boyfriend and I decided to take a break from our relationship. We needed to grow in ways that we couldn't grow if we were dating. I'm not going to go into how he's changing because while he's told me about it, it's not my business to share it with the world. Sorry :)<br />
<br />
It's only been five days, and I've learned more about myself and what I need to do than I have in the entire month that I've been in NYC. On Sunday at Hillsong Church our pastor talked about the dash on our tombstones. He said that he wants his dash to be about OTHERS. He said that numbers DO matter in a church because every person is a number. It doesn't matter how high or low that number is, but the numbers matter. He wants his legacy to be known as a man for others.<br />
<br />
Then on Tuesday I joined a small group from Hillsong NYC and we continued conversation about our legacies. Back at home I tried my hardest to be about others. I talked to everyone in school, I lead a middle school small group, I did all I thought I could at the time. But when I got here to NYC, I thought about, "Now what about me?" and I became so focused on what God wanted me to do for me. From Friday until Sunday afternoon, I though my boyfriend and I's break was about ME finding ME. <br />
<br />
But it's not.<br />
<br />
It's not about me.<br />
<br />
It's about others. <br />
<br />
My legacy needs to be about others. While I don't know HOW exactly God wants me for others, I at least now know that He does want me for them. <br />
<br />
"But the Lord is in His Holy Temple; the Lord still rules from heaven. He watches everyone closely; examining every person on Earth." Psalm 11:4<br />
<br />
Number do matter. I had forgotten.Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-83721455035267860512012-11-08T16:20:00.001-08:002012-11-08T16:20:44.827-08:00Admitting I'm WrongI wanted to continue on with my NYC story blogging, but today I just need to blog about what happened to me in my acting class.<br />
<br />
On Monday we showed our teacher the scenes that we were assigned and over the past two days, we've workshoped them. However, when my scene partner and I went up and did our scene, our teacher looked at us an said, "How long did you rehearse since Monday." I decided to be honest with him and said, "We didn't." he told us to sit down.<br />
<br />
When we sat down he told us we should be disappointed in ourselves. If we really wanted to be a part of this business we needed to commit and rehearse. We'd learned so much in the past few days and yet my partner and I did nothing to adjust our scene. He told us that we failed for the day. He said, "It is better to have failed and gotten lost, than to fail because you did nothing." I got my first college F.<br />
<br />
When he was done talking, in front of the whole class I said to him, "Thank you, really needed that smack in the face." (and I mean I said it in an "I appreciate you" way) And with that he pointed at me, looked at the class, and said "That is exactly how you are supposed to respond in this business. That is how you respond to your directors, your producers, everyone. That is the attitude you all need to have. Congratulations, you're going to make it in this business. You don't fail for the day." <br />
<br />
I'm not making this post as a "Look at what I did!" post. We all need to admit we're wrong. Because nine times out of ten, we are. I've always put a lot of work into the time that I'm actually IN school, but as soon as I'm home, I'm super lazy. It's been a habit of mine for years now and my parents have told me numerous times I need to stop it. That I could be so much better if I just put the effort in OUTSIDE of school. I got A's and B's in high school, but I could've gotten straight A's had I put in that effort. Today, my teacher told me something my parent's had said to me a million times before and it finally sunk in, and I appreciated it.<br />
<br />
My dad always taught me to not talk back and admit when I'm wrong. Dad's life lessons always pay off and I never notice. Today I noticed. I admitted I was wrong and it did so much and I learned so much. Listen to your parents, they know what they're talking about<br />
<br />
Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-58451591374388118692012-10-24T16:02:00.002-07:002012-10-24T16:02:47.253-07:00Destination: NY Part 1I've decided to blog my journey to finally getting to NYC. Most people don't know this, but it actually all started when I was just 15. I decided to make it into different parts, that way I won't have the LONGEST blog post ever.<br />
<br />
When I was in high school, my youth pastor used to always take a group of teens on a missions trip to NYC. I'd always wanted to go there, but I never went on the trips because I never felt called to go. If I went on the trip, it'd be for my own selfish reasons.<br />
<br />
After a team came home from NYC when I was 15, they'd always do a service showing the church what it is they did and sharing experiences there. When they were praying in the end-I felt God finally tell me, "You're going to NYC." So I told my mom that next year I'd be going on the trip.<br />
<br />
Some things happened at the church and our youth pastor moved elsewhere-so no NYC trip for Emily.Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-14445012573194256232012-10-10T07:56:00.004-07:002012-10-10T07:56:52.378-07:00No More Heart Scabs.Sometimes people come into our lives and we are overwhelmed with love for them that we can't explain why. There was someone that I truely truely cared about in my life that didn't know how to love me the way I loved them. They made my heart break weekly but I still cared about them. I could never quite explain why.<br />
<br />
I believe God point said person in my life to help me grow. I learned not to invest so much time into someone that didn't care. I still needed to care about that person and pray for them-but not completely fill my thoughts with them they way I had once done.<br />
<br />
After a long period of time I slowly but surely thought my heart was healing from all the scrapes and bruises it had. But I never TRUELY let go. I thought I was okay again and I was moving on with my life. But every now and again I would hear a song, watch a movie, or hear a story that would remind me of that person and my heart would cringe because I still had a scab from those heart scrapes.<br />
<br />
I'm now completely in love with someone else and I was determined that my heart was okay again. But recently I made contact with said person and I felt okay but I found myself thinking about them again. For some reason I felt the Holy Spirit tell me I needed to see that person.<br />
<br />
So I went and had coffee with said human being and I was really nervous while I waited in my car for them to arrive. When they got there we chatted about what's new, old friends, school, etc. etc. and while I was talking to them, I felt okay.<br />
<br />
I was finally okay. I left there feeling okay. I my heart scab was gone. THAT was why the Holy Spirit told me to spend time with them. Because I finally got my closure that I thought I already had but didn't. I feel completely healed now. Like I said before, my heart scab is gone. Will I see this person again in life? I don't know. If I do, I'll be okay. If I don't, I'll be okay. I feel calm. I feel healed. I'm finally okay :)Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-85185903571350908132012-08-22T08:27:00.001-07:002012-08-22T08:27:56.933-07:00Shake It Out<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/RCWnVznnWcs?fs=1" width="459"></iframe><br />
<br />
<br />
Sorry I hardly ever post anymore-I never have time to get around to blogging.<br />
<br />
I'm in a new relationship with a WONDERFUL boy whom I care about very much. But recently some things from my past have been really bothering me. There was a boy that broke my heart in two a while back and I'd like to believe that I'm over it now but sometimes something will remind me of that time and I get sad. But, I was listening to this song today at work and I almost began crying. It's not the boy who I'm not letting go of- it's Satan trying to bring me down because I'm in a relationship with someone who's Christ-centered like I am. My favorite lyric is "...and it's hard to dance with the devil on your back, so shake him off" and that's what I need to do. I dance through life (just as Fieryo in Wicked does!-musical reference). And it IS hard to dance with the devil on your back. I don't know if Florence and the Machine is Christian, but this song certainly has a Christian message secretly attached to it. It's time to shake of my scars and let Jesus re-take control of this heart of mine :)Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-34391985112600488432012-05-06T09:21:00.001-07:002012-05-06T09:21:51.861-07:00Oh, I almost forgot-I GOT INTO AMDA!!!!!!!!!!!! I'M MOVING TO NYC IN OCTOBER!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-5399627313531969942012-05-06T09:20:00.004-07:002012-05-06T09:20:41.546-07:00Adult TimeFor the past few weeks I was seeing this guy (who we'll call Hap). Hap was pretty much HEAD OVER HEELS for me. And it was weird. He's quite a bit younger than me, but he didn't care. We'd stay up REALLY late (like 3 am late) talking to each other. We even went on a date (which was pretty fun). I thought I really liked this kid.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Later on I discovered a few things. I realized something-Hap always talked about how his thoughts were always filled with me, but my thoughts were NEVER on him. Whenever I was around him I had fun, but I was never quite comfortable enough to share all the skeletons I had in my closet with him-so I never did. I also discovered that he's pretty immature when he wasn't around me-and I didn't like that. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then Hap started acting odd-he stopped talking to me just in general. And, in all honesty, it didn't bother me. I realized that I didn't really like him at all-I just liked the attention he gave me. And the fact that it didn't bother me actually SHOWED me that I didn't like him. When you like a guy and he stops talking to you-it should bother you. But it didn't.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I came to the conclusion that I needed to end things with Hap. So I told him, "Whatever this was that we had, I think I'm done with it." And he never got back to me. That showed me that he was pretty immature. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm not making this post to bash him at all! This post is to show something that I've discovered about myself- I'm ready for an adult relationship. I mean, I'm going to be an adult in 20 days. I was dumbing myself down for him, which wasn't okay. This relationship-thing (I don't know what to call it) showed me that it's my time to grow up. Teenage relationships were never really my thing anyway. I'm in it for the long run.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
All in all, I'd like to thank Hap for helping me realize this about myself. It's time for Emily to become an adult!</div>Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-25731757402319660642012-03-08T16:59:00.002-08:002012-03-08T17:08:03.055-08:00Domingo MañanaOh my, it certainly has been quite a while since I've blogged, the schedule's been crazy lately. Well, today I decided to talk about the middle school girls small group that I teach on Sundays. (Oh, and by the way, the title of this post means "Sunday Morning" in Spanish-I really like randomly using Spanish sometimes.)<br />My middle school girls are wonderful. That time on Sunday mornings that I see them is my favorite time of the week. They're so sweet and I feel like they're ALLLLLLL my little sisters who look up to me. A part of me always wanted to have a little sister to look up at me, and now I have 8-10 every week! When my week is not going well and I feel like I'm not good at anything, I go see them on Sunday mornings and they listen to what I'm teaching them and I feel like I'm actually doing something right. (Not in a cocky way though.) I feel like God is really moving in them and I feel like they're really beginning to grow-and watching them grow is just so exciting to me!<br />I love spending time with these girls, and in all honesty, I don't like that my time with them is so short. So, my mom, adult leaders a my church, and I are planning a big sleepover at my house for all of them! I'm so excited!<br />God has truly blessed me with these girls. I'm so glad that I decided to take up one of the positions as small group leader. I might miss that time with them the most when I go away to college in the fall.Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-58365116509073758892012-01-21T11:11:00.000-08:002012-01-21T11:28:12.286-08:00NYC is going to be MY cityIt's been a while since I've blogged, life's been a tad in the way lately. Today I decided to share why I believe that NYC is where I need to be in my future. A few months ago I got a letter in the mail from the American Music and Dramatic Academy (in NYC) and I was offered the opportunity to apply for free (and if I get accepted-I automatically get a $1,000 scholarship!). College decisions have been making me stressed, insecure, and so on (all emotions I NEVER feel). About a month ago, just randomly while I was praying one day, I felt like I wasn't supposed to go to college-I was supposed to go into the mission field. I didn't tell anyone about it for quite sometime.<br /><br />Then one day, I was praying again about AMDA and then I heard God tell me, "You were right-you are meant to go into the mission field, just not in a third world country. Your mission field is New York City." Then, later that week, one of my best friends Kyndall told me her dad was taking a mission trip to New York City for spring break. This trip was a trip he took almost yearly with students. My freshman and sophomore year I didn't feel called to go-so I didn't. When each team gets back, they do a service telling the community about their trip and my sophomore year after they got back, I felt God saying to me "You need to go next time". But, my junior year we got a new youth pastor and Daryl (Kyndall's dad) didn't do the trip that year. But now, I'm a senior and I have the opportunity to go-so I'm going. First the missions trip, then college-NYC is where I belong.Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5636224592778057629.post-51716331750387283482011-11-28T20:25:00.000-08:002011-11-28T20:41:25.268-08:00Avoiding Relationship Suicide.I've never been one to really want to be in a relationship. Yeah, over the past few years I've liked a few people, but the whole idea of dating just didn't sound all that interesting to me. It's not because I have one of those "GAH! Dating is evil!" -type of attitudes, I just haven't found someone who I believe I could have an ideal relationship with. All the guys I know are either too much of a brother to me, too douchey, or they just didn't love Jesus (that needs to come before me to them). <div><br /></div><div>So, just recently I've noticed that a good majority of my very dear friends are in relationships or they're about to be and almost every time I checked facebook, someone was in a new relationship, and I started to get a little frustrated about it. I didn't tell anyone that, but good ole' mother can read me like a book and could tell. So, this past Sunday we were in the car and I started talking about my best friend and her boyfriend (they celebrated their one year of dating last month-isn't that cute?!) And I started going on about how precious I think that they are together and about how I just love the two of them together, and basically just how perfect they are for each other. (People go on rants by complaining about things, I go on rants about how much I love people)</div><div><br /></div><div>So, as I'm talking to my mother about my best friend she said to me, "You deserve that too, you know." (I hadn't even said anything about that, but like I said, mom can read me like a book). "I know you've been really frustrated lately that everyone around you is dating someone and you're not. But God's got a really wonderful man in store for you who will treat you like the princess you are." And I started to cry. My mother is wonderful.</div><div><br /></div><div>People often ask me why I don't date, I'm avoiding relationship suicide by not just dating any ole' guy that comes my way. God's got someone better for me, no idea when it's going to come, but he'll come and he'll treat me like I'm a beautiful princess. Yeah, this whole waiting thing DOES get really annoying and it often makes me feel really upset, but like I said, I'm avoiding relationship suicide. :)</div>Emily Lynne Krullhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09342003179353993540noreply@blogger.com1