Ooh Chloe

"One Day" One day I won't look over my shoulder when I leave my room. I won't scan the parking lot looking for your car. I won't get a lump in my throat when I hear your name. Your face won't be the first thing I see in the morning. I won't smell you during the day, Or taste your lips at night. I won't think to tell you when something funny happens. I won't ache all over with loneliness. I won't entertain the "What-ifs...." I won't feel a thing when I see you around town. These bitter, salty tears won't cloud my vision. I won't replay our old conversations. I won't miss you. One day. That day won't be today. It probably won't be tomorrow. But I know that day is coming. And it's the thought of "one day" that gets me through today. I wrote this poem earlier this year. I hadn't thought of it for a while, but I did today. For some reason I felt different

When I hear the words, "make me," I immediately imagine a child throwing a temper tantrum. "Johnny, be quiet," and in a loud, shrill voice he replies, "Make me!" No one ever says this regarding something they want to do because no one has to make you do something you enjoy. Nobody makes me eat brownies. Nobody makes me write this blog. I just do it because I enjoy it. My roommate makes me workout on the days I don't want to (bless her). My conscience makes me eat carrots. Let me tell you, there is a huge difference in the way I eat carrots and the way I eat brownies. It doesn't take rocket science to figure out the difference between being made to do something and doing something out of pure want-to. Maybe it was the basic knowledge that made the author's words in Psalm 119 stand out to me. Verse 35 says this, "Make me walk in the path of Your commandments, for I delight in it." This sound like an oxymoron to me. "Make me... I

Growing up I spent a lot of time at my grandma's house. Most mornings she helped me master the art of making pancakes. I learned how to look at the edges and the bubbles on top to gauge when each pancake was done. I learned how to pick the best spatula for flipping and the importance of NEVER over-mixing the batter. Of all the culinary techniques I learned all of those mornings over the stove, the one that means the most to is this: the first pancake is the tester. I can't count how many first pancakes I botched. It's on this pancake you adjust the skillet temperature and, if you're me, you warm up your pancake flipping abilities. After this first pancake falls to the deadly forces of overheated skillets and poor flipping techniques, the rest usually turn out great. But I always expect the first on to be a little burnt and to have an edge folded under. Well, folks. That's life. Expect the first attempt to be bad. Expect to be burned. Whether it's in rela

I am, by no means, an expert on football. This is only my second season of watching. I will say that I know much more now than I did a year ago today. I have grown to love watching it, and, just this year, have decided that I will even cheer at games. Especially when my favorite player makes a tackle. Admittedly, I still get confused about almost every penalty. The only one I really understand is a face mask, but even then, I never notice while I'm watching because I'm too busy concentrating on who has the ball and where they are going. I may not know the positions of the players by looking at the field, but I can tell whether things are going good or bad. I know that when my team has the ball, "1st and goal," is good, and "4th and long," is bad. When I hear the announcer say that, my stomach tightens, my heart goes a little fast, I clasp my hands, and wait in anticipation to see what will happen. As I watch, there is not one thing I can do to make t

*Contains strong language and mature content* Yesterday was quite the day. I woke up, everything was fine. I had myself a delicious cup of coffee, everything was more than fine. I went to my first class, took an exam, it was still fine. I went to my second class, and began to take notes. Fine. My professor started a documentary on drug use and its effects. I wasn't surprised as I am a behavioral science major, and the class is "Intro to Addictive Behavior." I usually become slightly emotional as we watch these films that show how people wreck their lives with a little bit of powder, or a bottle of pills. I knew this particular chapter and video would hit close to home because of my childhood. I thought I was prepared for it. After all, it has been fifteen years, I've been to therapy, I have a loving family, and I always thought I behaved like a "normal" person. A few minutes into the hour long film, the screen was filled with faces of those who had abuse

Do you ever see that person? The one that doesn't even have to look at you, just being in your line of vision is enough of an offense for you to want to flip the table. Everything can be going fine, even great! You could be having the time of your life, but the moment you see them, all signs of joy are gone and it's just you left with your bitterness. I have one of these people. Or a few. Oddly enough, I somehow think that I can blame them for "killing my vibe." As soon as all the negative feelings hit me, my first thought is, "b****, don't kill my vibe." (Y'all, I know. It's awful. I felt convicted. That's why I'm writing this post.) This past month I have realized how destructive this behavior pattern is. First of all, it doesn't hurt anyone but me. Second, that is not the attitude Christ has toward me, so I shouldn't have it towards others. Third, no one has the power to kill my vibe. If anyone is killing it, it's me. I

They say that Sunday is the Lord's Day. I always believed that, and would say things like, "But really every day is the Lord's day," and give an ornery grin. I've always gone to church on Sundays, but other than that I never felt like it was really much different than any other day, or any more of the Lord's than a Thursday afternoon. Sunday, March 5, that changed. That was the Lord's day. It might not have been a big day for you, but for me, it was the day He quickly and swiftly caused my kingdom to fall (direct reference to "More of You" by Colton Dixon ). Since then, God has been completely restructuring my ideas of what my life should look like. As you may know in December 2016, I was diagnosed with endometriosis. I took it hard. Two put it simply as possible, for these two reasons: I lost hope for getting better and my fear of never having a child was brought one step closer to reality. I don't know anyone else with endo, so I don'

I didn't have intentions of starting a series, and I still don't, but this post is almost perfect as a "Part 2" for my last post ! I had talked about waiting for God and trusting Him to bring life to situations that look dead from your perspective. I believe with all my heart that God is fully capable of bringing life to those situations, and sometimes He does. I also know that He can take years or even decades for that to come about, or He may never. It's easy to say that you trust God when you have a vision of what He will do, and don't expect Him to deviate too far from that vision. It gets a little harder when you face the fact that God's goodness and sovereignty don't always feel good, and sometimes He doesn't just deviate from your vision - He takes a completely different path. Through the course of your life, the detours, the short cuts, the winding and treacherous paths that end up being dead end roads, God is good. He is good to

This year I have taken a liking to plants. I have quite the collection now, and it all started with the lily that I mentioned in March. My lily is my pride and joy, the beginning of an era for me - the plant era. At the beginning of this summer, one of the two plants completely died. I was upset because I thought I had failed, but I still had one that looked decent. Then the inevitable happened. About two weeks ago the second plant began to wilt and sag, then overnight, the whole thing shriveled up and was as dead as could be. I'm going to be honest with you, I was holding back tears. I took this plant thing serious. I wanted to keep something alive. I wanted to prove to myself that not everything I touch (i.e., projects, career goals, relationships - literally everything) turns to dust. I know it's wrong, but I put a lot of weight on silly things like that. (Flashback to the one time that I had to make an A on a speech about Sylvester Stallone to prove to myself that I am a wo

Adventure ad•ven•ture noun 1. An unusual and exciting, typically hazardous, experience or activity   I've always wanted to take a cross-country road trip to discover quirky places in the good ol' US of A. I would absolutely love to take a run up the "Rocky steps" in Philadelphia as well as seeing some historical sights in the Northeast. Really,  I'm just a nerd and love all history, so any historical sight would suit me, and I've always wanted to see the Grand Canyon. I have family from Maryland to California that I would be ecstatic to see. Just thinking about all the things that I want to do on a long personal vacation makes my heart beat a little faster, my imagination a little wilder,  and the corners of my mouth turn up in a little smile.   Earlier this month, I had the opportunity to go on a mission trip. When I arrived, I was hoping for some adventure. I had visions of leading dozens to Christ, meeting "the one," taking extreme hik

I had an odd thought this morning. I wish I hadn’t “prayed about it.” At first I was shocked at my thought. Why would I think that? Why would I wish I hadn’t “prayed about it?” What harm came from praying? Why did I view it as a mistake? I felt like a bad Christian. But I realized I didn’t wish that I hadn’t prayed altogether, I only wished I had prayed differently. At the beginning of this year I was faced with a decision. I knew what the Bible said, and I knew God had a perfect design and plan. However, I felt that following this plan would potentially give people the wrong idea of God. You know, I thought I knew better than God. I wrestled with this decision. Even though I knew God’s guidelines were clear on this particular issue, I told those closest to me that I would do the right thing, and “pray about it,” and I did. My prayers were rather one-sided, though. They usually came out like this (all in one breath): “God-help-me-to-do-what-you-would-do-and-help-me-to-see-Your-wil

Oh, friends. I am struggling to confine the swirling thoughts in my head to one readable, concise post. (An issue that has been plaguing me all year.) One thing I can say clearly is that my heart is full. In fact, it’s running over. My first post this year was a rather solemn one. The pain and loss I experienced shed light on many issues in my life and heart. At the time, I couldn’t see that, but now I do. Because of that, I would take it all again in a heartbeat. Of course, I miss my grandma and think about her every day, and of course I still wonder why it’s so hard for people to be kind, respectful, and honestly just decent human beings; however, I can stand here with confidence and tell you that my relationship with God is stronger than it has ever been. It took the loneliest day of my life for me to begin the process of drawing closer to God – or to allow Him to pull me closer. That might be more accurate. It was during this time that I took a step back from blogging. I wante

Today is a special day for me. Today, I celebrate my third birthday. Now, you’re probably confused. It’s not Leap Year, and if it was, I would actually be twelve years old – and I’m clearly not. You see, it’s not my physical birthday. It’s my spiritual birthday. Three years ago, today, I was, as Jesus said, born again. “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God…. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit.” – John 3:3, 6 I would like to take a moment to reminisce on my “birthday.” I grew up in church. Many of my earliest memories take place in my grandma’s church – singing hymns, getting piggy back rides from the youth, shyly smiling at my grandma’s friends as we ate at many pot luck dinners, and making tons of crafts during Vacation Bible School. As I grew, I became more knowledgeable on religious matters. I knew all the “important” stories. I generally knew the right things to say

Last weekend I went on a camping/hiking trip. I had such a great time, but even more importantly, my eyes were opened to a lot of truths in my life. Or maybe just life in general. I went with a group of people from a church group I am in. Friday night, we built a fire, roasted hot dogs and s'mores, played cards, talked for hours, and then slept in tents in the rain! Saturday morning we woke up, had breakfast, and embarked on our eight mile journey. The beginning of the hike was nice, level ground, only slightly damp from the rain. I was beyond excited, and ready for a nice, relaxing walks in the trees. Not too far into it, the trail became much less level, the ground was slick with mud, and it seemed we were always going either up or downhill. It wasn't too hot, but the rain did cause some humidity. I was okay with it at first, but after a while I was done. The only problem was I couldn't back out. I had to move forward. I didn't have a choice other than to put one fo

Hey, everyone! I know I have been rather quiet through 2017. It's been quite a year! I have a lot to say, though. I have been taking time to just let God speak to me, and He has been revealing so many things to me. In fact, it has been overwhelming. So much that I haven't been able to write about it. I have been working on a three part series and have ideas for some individual posts and hope to start getting those out this month. I have started some new social media accounts for the blog to help broaden my audience and help my current viewers to keep up with what's new. Here is a nice list of all the ways you can follow me, and stay tuned for lots of new content! Pinterest: @chloebhughes Instagram: @thebebopblogger Twitter: @thebebopblogger

It's been just over three months since I was diagnosed with endometriosis. Already, it has been quite the experience - and not the kind of experience I wanted when I told myself to be more adventurous. I've been dealing with it much longer than three months, but having a diagnosis changes things. The moment I woke up to that news, the little glimmer of hope I had been holding onto died. The last time I posted about this was the day after my surgery. I was trying to be strong. I wanted to take it in stride. I wanted people to see me and think that either nothing was wrong with me, or that I just really have my life together and am impervious to chronic illness. I was resisting reality. It wasn't until I had a little talk with myself that I was able to stop resisting it. I was laying in bed one morning waiting for my pain medicine to (hopefully) kick in. My frustration was growing exponentially. Before I knew it, that frustration had turned into little tears that quietly

I don't have a lot to say today. I'm still healing from the onset of spring , but little by little my days are getting better. This morning I woke up to my pretty lily that bloomed over night. It's not a big deal (other than the fact that nature is amazing and I love plants so so much), but it was a small reminder to me that there are still so many good things in life. Here's my lily because I'm so proud and want you to see her: On the third of June, at a minute past two, where once was a person, a flower now grew. Five daises arranged on a large outdoor stage in front of a ten-acre pasture of sage. In a changing room, a lily poses. At the DMV, a row of roses. The world was much crueler an hour ago. I'm glad someone decided to give flowers a go. - "Flowers" by Bo Burnham

Well folks, spring has sprung. I know it's not technically spring until the twentieth, but it has officially begun in my world. You see, I have this weird thing about me where something awful happens every spring. Yesterday was that day, and this year it was two things. One thing, which I won't bore you with, was simply a major let down by someone I thought I could trust. That's life. It hurts and I have regrets, but " life keeps moving on ." The other, was the passing of my great-great-grandma. Even though I messaged one of my friends yesterday and made the comment, "everything sucks right now," I'm trying to learn from the legacy of my amazing grandmother. I want her wonderful life to overshadow the pain of her loss and the devastation I feel from being let down (yet again). Over the summer, I had my last semi-coherent conversation with my grandma. She wasn't all there. She was crying for her mom, looking for her deceased husband, and sin