Forward

Moving forward in life always requires formation and preparation. This can feel like a lonely, weary place at times, but it is such a great position to be in. Moving forward means that you're moving away from a troubled past and severing its emotional holds. It means that you have a forward gaze fixed on something new. It can happen rather quickly, it can be a sequence of baby steps, or it can come in stages of both, but either way there is progress.

Personally, as I am preparing for the LSAT, graduation, law school, and a legal career, I look to God as my source of motivation and strength. So, this is my encouragement, and I'll share it for anyone else who finds it encouraging:

Prov 3:5 Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;

2 Cor 3:5 Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God.

Gal 6:9 Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.

1 John 5:14 This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us.

Jer 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord. "They are plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope."

Jer 32:27 "I am the LORD, the God of all mankind. Is anything too hard for me?"

And after much study on my part and trusting God's plan for my life, one day I can say as Paul says in 2 Tim 4:7, " I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith."

-Ashli

My Thoughts on CNN's Republican Debate of September 16, 2015

CNN's Republican Debate on September 16, 2015

It is annoying that Donald J. Trump continues to talk surface-level. It's time to know some specifics about his plans if he has any. I enjoy watching him spar with everyone on stage, but it is time to get serious. Secondly, I'm realizing that Dr. Ben Carson, although he is a wonderful, intelligent man, may be most effective if he stays in the field of his expertise. I noticed how his confidence grew as he spoke on the medical issues of immunizations and Veteran's Affairs, and it was significant compared to the way he speaks about foreign policy or immigration. I've supported him for the past two years, and he has some great ideas for America. However, he is incredibly knowledgeable and gifted in the medical world, and he can do a lot of good there. He would be a great Surgeon General or head of Veteran's Affairs. I'm not saying he would not be a great president, but this is just an observation I made. Thirdly, Marco Rubio and Carly Fiorina really impressed me, and they just might be the powerhouses America needs to fix these foreign and domestic issues.

And now that I've brought Fiorina up, let me say this: it is unfair that some are judging her for using the word "women" too much last night or accusing her of having a feminist agenda, which apparently makes her unfit to run for president. Excuse me, but haven't we seen the promotion of the male agenda going on for, like, all of history!?! Of course, we don't call it a male agenda because that's just the norm...it's a man's world, right? Wrong! Women still don't have pay equality. We still don't have as many women in political office as men. We still have the issue of many women being unable to obtain a degree and career because American customs say the woman should stay at home with the kids or else pay a buttload in daycare services. (There's nothing wrong with staying home with the babies. It was a blessing to be home with my kids when they were younger. I'm just saying that it is quite a burden for moms of little ones to work outside of the home or go back to school if she chooses to.) And don't even get me started on the issue of the sex trade and prostitution in America where women literally have a price tag, which is another representation of women degradation. So no, I don't think she has a feminist agenda, I just think she is in touch with the real issues that women face, and that awareness makes her a great candidate.

I'm not pushing for Fiorina either. I have some issues with her background. I have some issues with all of the candidates on both sides, so I'm still bouncing around.

-Ashli Carroll

How Is He Mine

How is He Mine?

By Ashli Carroll 

             On a fall evening in rural south Alabama, the usual Friday night crowd gathers in my mom and dad’s backyard to kick off the weekend. The music is loud, the adults talk and laugh, and the kids play outside. Country life affords a child some liberties; at only eight years old, I’m a good driver, and my ride of choice is my dad’s four-wheeler. I love the wind in my face as I race through the long, winding trails on the property. But tonight, I’ve been kicked out of the driver seat.

“Let Amanda drive,” my dad yells over Lynyrd Skynyrd booming from the speakers.

I don’t particularly like this teenager from down the road, but I had to comply. Three of us climb onto the four-wheeler: Amanda up front, my cousin Crystal in the middle, and me in the back. Amanda zooms up to the main road and quickly leaves the property. As Amanda increases speed, the pavement passes underneath us like a blur. I hold Crystal tight.

“Amanda, go back. We’re gonna get in trouble,” I yell.

My warnings go unnoticed. Amanda has discovered some trails located behind an abandoned field two miles from my parents’ property. At the back of the field, the tree line opens to reveal a narrow entry point, and Amanda embarks slowly. After turning sharply to the right, we plunge five feet down a bank and cross the shallow creek to the other side. Instinctively, Crystal and I lean forward as our dads have taught us so that we help the four-wheeler climb up the other side. The woods seem unfamiliar in this eerie blackness. Crystal and I are quiet...there’s no laughter or excited squeals like these trails usually incite. Fear grips my chest. Crystal squeezes my arms so I’ll hold her tighter. I track our location, but the total darkness and Amanda’s speed disorients me. Suddenly, we hit a dip that jolts us forward. My head slams into Crystal’s. The steering column jerks and our driver can’t hold on. In an instant, we crash and come to a complete stop. The four-wheeler goes dead. It was unnervingly quiet. My ears ring and my eyes struggle to adjust to the pitch-black night. Amanda jumps off in hysterics. I reach to turn on the headlights, and the illumination startles her.

“The battery is fine,” I said. “Someone will see us if they come looking.”

“We can’t wait that long,” Amanda said impatiently. “My house is somewhere around here. You two stay put and I’ll walk to get help.”

“No!” I yell to stop her from leaving. “We are not splitting up. You don’t even know these trails!”

Crystal screams in pain and won’t move, so Amanda and I work together to help her off. She moves slowly and can’t stand on her own. We carry her around to the light. Her right leg is mangled and covered in blood.

“She can’t walk. You’ve got to carry her, and I’ll try to lead us out of here.” I instructed Amanda.

Something shifts in me. With the realization of our great danger comes the fact that it’s up to me to get us out of here. I feel so small compared to the task, and there’s an overwhelming need to rely on something bigger than myself. God? But would He care? I don’t doubt that He exists – I think He is good and bigger than I can imagine, but is He so concerned about me that I can rely on Him for this?

“God? Please help us,” I whisper as my mind races to form a plan.

This plea comes from somewhere deep in me. It’s not the bedtime prayer I recite every night. It stems from a sense of insignificance – I’m just a kid, I’m not capable of leading us out of here. But I have no choice. If this great big God really does hear me, then He will come.

 Amanda hoists Crystal up on her back and we head off in the glow of the wrecked 4-wheeler’s headlight. It soon gets dark again – pitch black in spots where the trees cover the moon’s glow. After making some progress, Amanda grabs my arm.

“There’s something following us,” Amanda’s voice cracks.

We stop to listen. The sound of crunching leaves comes from behind. A chill goes through me as I realize that Crystal has been losing blood since the scene of the accident. Coyotes have tracked us down.

“Run!” I yell.

But the trail splits up ahead. Panic clouds my thinking. It is at this moment, lost in the middle of pitch-black woods and about to be devoured by predators, that God shows up.

“Let’s go this way,” Amanda urges as she heads down a trail to the right.

Go straight, I heard, but not with my ears. It seemed more like instinct or a clear thought than a voice…but it wasn’t me. A sense of peace came over me as I realized that God is answering my prayer.

“No, go straight.” I refuted.

The course is overgrown. Limbs and vines hit us in the face as we battle through what seems like powerful force field. We break free and run. Suddenly, I notice hard road under my feet. We are out, and I see headlights coming our way. My heart settles at the familiar glug-glug sound of my dad’s old Chevy, which is so loud that it scares the coyotes away. We are saved.

           The accident wrecked my dad’s four-wheeler, exposed a careless teen, broke Crystal’s leg, 
and thrust me into a leadership role. They call me brave – a hero even – for my leadership that night, but the truth is I was just a scared little girl who dared to believe a great big God cares. That moment when God spoke to me defines my relationship with Him. In all the dark nights of my life, I know that He’s there. I am His, and He is mine.