NIKI FLORICA

Crazy week, folks. Craaaazy week. Second-year has just begun and already there just aren't enough hours in the day; writing and AuthorTube and the blog are still vying for attention; my TBR is rapidly growing and my time for pleasure-reading is rapidly shrinking, and you know what the worst part is? My God-time is under attack. I'm probably not the only one fighting this constant battle against busyness in which God-time is usually one of the first casualties. I dedicate the

I bombed my first driver's test. And, no, before you say, "Oh, I failed, too!" believe me when I say that mine was probably worse. In fact, I'm almost 100% sure. It's okay, I've accepted it . . . mostly. Failure was not something I was overly accustomed to, and I don't say that with any kind of arrogance or conceit whatsoever! Academically speaking, I just always worked hard and saw good results, and generally speaking, I don't spend much free time doing things I'm not okayis

Imagine this. You have a dream about something you've been dreading. It goes badly. You screw up, or the whole shebang goes south in the most drastic way. It's a worst-case scenario as it can only be in dreams. Then you wake up and realize—DEEP BREATH—it was just a dream. Maybe you've already done the dreaded thing, or maybe circumstances have changed and spared you from that fate. Either way, what follows is that inevitable feeling of gratitude flooding every sense and tingl

Ideas. Why is that such a scary word? Don't get any ideas. She's been filling her head with ideas. I think sometimes we forget that life is a process—a never-ending progression of ideas—and that living in this world means exposure to all kinds of them, just as living with Christ means being changed by the ideas he brought into the world when he came. I've lived most of my Christian life on the defensive. I knew what I believed and when I came against something that contradict

I'm usually pretty good at laughing at myself. You know, when the stakes are low. When things get stressful, though, and nobody else is laughing? Yeah, that kills my good humour. The past couple of months have marked a struggle to build competence in what I do. New tasks are always daunting, but new tasks along with the weight of dozens of people's expectations are crippling for someone like me. I wish I could say I'm a cauldron of confidence, but that would be a bald-faced l

Job training is no one's idea of a good time. All the uncertainty and awkwardness, the stupid mistakes, the overlooked details, the insecurity of comparing ourselves to the seasoned workers around us, the waking up at seven a.m. thinking about those lemon squares you left in the fridge last night without dating them . . . As first-world problems go, it's got to be a top contender. On a small scale, it's a glimpse into a mechanism God uses to grow us in life. It's a time of de

Funny thing about toast—when you smell it, you want it. Ever notice that? I mean, there was a time when I would sooner eat dirt than toast, and I still can't deny its magical property of being appetizing in any and every context. It's just one of those things. Innately appealing, we need only to experience a whiff of it to crave it. Something in us just wants toast. What if I told you that Jesus and toast have a lot in common? See, the Word of God calls us to follow Jesus, bu

Squirrels get a bad rap. I know from experience—watching my family's ongoing bird-feeder vs. squirrel feud of feuds—but I can't help admiring their tenacity. Take my family's furry rival, for example. The bird food has switched branches, seen branches removed, been strung from the clothesline, from fishing wire, from the eaves, and the squirrel has always prevailed. Annoying as it is for those in my family who are not squirrel sympathizers, I happen to find it kind of awesome

Meet Dudley, Myrtle, and Rudy, the three happy snowmen mascots of this Thankful Thursday post. Technically, I should be studying for my final exam tomorrow, but thankfulness waits for no exam, and I think we could all use a reminder that there is always something to smile about, especially at this time of year. Christmas is in just over a week and I catch myself wondering how it's snuck up so fast. It doesn't feel like Christmas at all, and part of me is feeling that little p

I do not have a spontaneous bone in my body. I mean that in the most literal sense. I am not impulsive. I hate making decisions and usually go out of my way to leave the big ones up to other people, and most of my life happens within a comfortable status quo that I have no problem with 90% of the time. When the idea of a bob haircut first struck me, it was almost laughable. Inspired by one of my favourite characters from Marissa Meyer's The Lunar Chronicles, and later by anot

I've always known what it's like to have Someone in my life who would never let me down. You'd think after all this time I'd figure out that He's the only one. I'm not a fast learner. No matter how many times I allow my trust to drop an anchor in worldly seas—in a friendship, a hobby, a passion, a person—I'm always left floundering when that anchor doesn't hold and God reminds me, once again, that He is the only one I can really, truly rely on. Maybe I don't appreciate that f

In the past, I've been pretty quick to judge the disciples for their lack of faith throughout the gospels. I mean, as Christians of today, we haven't seen Jesus in the flesh; we haven't witnessed his miracles or looked into his eyes or heard his voice speak our names, but the disciples had. Their relationship with Christ was tangible, visible, measurable. And yet, they still despaired and lost hope. Take the crucifixion for example. Jesus had warned the disciples on more than