Update!

Dear Readers,

Hello! It has been a long time since I have written for this blog. It was one of my first ventures with my writing and I am quite proud of it. However, I unfortunately no longer write for it. For those of you who still find my blog in the search engine, I hope its contents can still be beneficial for you. I do want you to know, though, that I have not stopped writing.

My writing has moved beyond adolescent topics and Christianity solely. It's not to say that those topics don't come up, but they are not my main focus. I am amplifying my writing ground, which is why I haven't bound myself to a blog. Since the ending of this blog, I have written for other blogs, such as "Florida Citrus Hall of Fame," "Ridged Valley Reflections," "The Penny Hoarder," and "Reflections of Hope." I have also been published in magazines, like "Cantilevers Journal of the Arts" and "Just Women." I am still in the works of getting published in other places and am currently working on a memoir as well.

If you like my writing style, want to read some of the aforementioned work, or simply want to keep up to date with me, please like my Facebook page or follow on Twitter - @SelysRivera. I love my readers and would like to see you grow with me as my writing grows.

Blessings!
Selys Rivera

Adios, Adios, Adios!

            The first story I ever wrote was titled, “Timmy the Monkey and His First Play Date,” or something along those lines. It was about (shocker!) a monkey named Timmy and his first play date with Tommy the Cat. I know it’s not the most creative plot, but I was in first grade so give me a break.

            I enjoyed writing that story more than I did working as a fashion consultant for my Bratz dolls or substituting bricks for legos as I constructed my dream house. The crayon nuzzled in my right hand, telling the story in my mind to the blue sheets of construction paper my mom had stapled together for me. I also decided to include artistic depictions of pivotal scenes in case my readers could not understand what game Timmy and his friend were playing or why Tommy had to go home at the end. Once I finished, I let my one adoring fan read my story. My mom loved it.

            It's one of the fondest memories from my childhood.  

            Now, here I am many years later. I’ve gone from writing fictional stories in crayon for my mom to writing down my experiences and thoughts on God and Christianity for readers of my blog. It’s been a year and half since I began this blog and I still can’t believe people even wanted to read what I’ve had to say. I kept thinking to myself, “Wow, people actually care? What a blessing!”

            As wonderful as this blessing has been, I am both sad and happy to say it is time to move on. I’ve enjoyed writing for my blog a great deal and I’m completely grateful for all of the readers who have taken even a second of their day to glance at my few posts. As much fun as I’ve had, though, I’m no longer a teenager. In addition, I’m graduating soon and I know God has plenty more planned for me after I welcome this diploma into my life.

Although I am happy to say “hello” to the next stage of my life, I am sad to say “goodbye” to my blog. However, I want to make it clear that I am in no way saying “goodbye” to my writing or readers of my writing in general. I sure hope that if I ever start another blog or become a famous author someday, readers of this blog will continue to enjoy what I have created.

And readers? Please don’t let me become one of those attention-hogging authors on TV whose sole wish is to magically transform books into cash. It’s always been about the writing and the talent that God has given me; I never want it to become anything else.

So, if you ever see my name on some fancy novel on a Barnes & Nobles shelf, just remind me about the monkey story, the little girl who wrote it, and the aspiring writer that she bloomed into with nothing more but a Christian teen blog.

God bless,

Selys Rivera

Scaredy-Christian

            If I were a dog, I think I would be Scooby-Doo. I know, I know. Who watches Scooby-Doo anymore? Well, that doesn’t matter. The point is that I identify with him. Why? Because we are both scaredy-cats (how ironic).

            I always like to believe that I’m brave, courageous, willing to take anything on. I don’t want a knight in shining armor. I want to have my own shield and sword to protect myself.

            Lately, though, I’ve realized that I’ve been deluding myself. I get scared really easily, actually. For example, I went to see a scary movie with some friends. Afterwards, I was so scared that I accidentally hit my friend. (In my defense, she shouldn’t have sneaked up behind me!)

            Okay, I’m going to be serious now. I’ve been really afraid of the future as of late. Now that I’m getting older, I’m feeling overwhelmed by everything I have to do. There are so many fears and questions in my mind that I’m not ready to face.

Am I ready for graduation? Am I 100% positive I want to continue my education? What if I’m choosing to study the wrong thing? Am I ready to be a real “adult?”

Sometimes, as these questions swell up in my brain, I want to cry. I wish I wasn’t Scooby-doo. I wish I could charge full speed ahead on my sturdy steed and battle the menacing dragon. Instead, I just feel like a coward.

As a Christian, I know I should have more faith in God. That was my New Year’s resolution, after all. He knows the answers to all of my self-doubting questions. I know He has faith in me.

I guess I won’t know unless I just take a step forward and try, with God by my side, of course. He needs to lead me by the leash. He needs to be my sturdy steed. That’s the only way I can get past these irrational (and annoying) fears.

Let’s see what happens.

God as My Magic Eight Ball

            Sometimes I just feel lost. I mean, Hansel and Gretel in the woods lost, without a breadcrumb trail leading me anywhere. Not to my house and especially not my future.

I think about the future and all I see is a fuzzy image of myself nowhere in particular, like trying to watch TV while there’s a thunderstorm and the image is too full of static to see clearly. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I don’t know what I’m going to do next. Will I keep studying? Will I do something else? Who knows?

There’s a lot of pressure on teenagers that revolve around the same question: What are you going to do with your life?

I’ve tried to answer that question several different ways.  Honestly, I have. One day I say I want to keep studying until I’m either sick of academia or can’t afford it any more. Another day I decide I just want to dive into the real world and get a job. Then still another day I get fed up with both options and think about doing something more meaningful, like joining the military or the Peace Corps.

No matter what day, though, if someone asked me that infamous question, “What are you going to do with your life?” I always had an answer. But lately, it’s gotten worse. I’ve been changing ideas two to three times a day. One morning I’ll wake up deciding I want to keep studying and later go to bed deciding I want to go into a specific career. The next morning, I’ll decide on something else.

It’s been difficult for me to accept this, but the truth is that I’ve been answering that question incorrectly.

The true answer is this: I just don’t know.

I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life. I know I want to be a writer, I know someday I want to settle down and have a family, but I don’t know when either of those is going to happen. I don’t know what will happen in between or which will come first. I don’t know if I’ll keep studying and start my writing career at the same time. I don’t know if I’ll go off to the Peace Corps and get married the moment I come back. I won’t even mention my other dreams, like traveling the world.

I simply don’t know.

The uncertainty has been eating me up inside. I’ve always been an organized person, using a planner in school for my homework, shelving my books on my bookshelf according to genre, etc. So the fact that I can’t organize my future has been driving me crazy, sometimes to the point of tears. Not only do I not know what to do with my life, it’s like I don’t know what to do with myself until I figure it out.

I’ve realized something, though. I may not know my future, but God does.

At church this past Sunday, the pastor gave a message on how we shouldn’t rely on magic eight balls to help us make our decisions, but that we should instead turn to the Bible. I’ve taken this up a notch and decided that I shouldn’t be looking at magic eight balls at all (not that I have been). Magic eight balls don’t know what my future holds. In fact, no one knows what my future holds, not even myself.

But God does.

It’s taken me a while to take comfort in that fact. God knows what I’m going to do with my life. God knows what the future holds. God simply knows, in a way that I won’t until the time comes.

And He’s going to get me there, somehow.

Instead of pulling out my hair over what to do with my life, then, I think I should just turn to God. After all, He’s the one who knows where I’m ultimately going to end up. Perhaps I should just be patient and meditate in Him, throwing aside the magic eight balls in my life and instead grabbing God’s hand and trusting that, in the end, God will guide me to where I need to go.

Besides, God makes a much better magic eight ball anyways.