Emma Veronica

A Piece of Micro-Fiction: It was midnight.   She got up from her bed because she was hungry and Mom had made brownies that afternoon.   Her room was dark, but she could see the light from the hallway shine in from beneath her door.   She saw the light in the kitchen was off, so she would go downstairs to see if Grandpa had any snacks.   She definitely didn’t want to wake up Mom and Dad after the week they had.   Apparently Nana had gone to see Jesus but hadn’t come back yet.   She began the descent down the stairs to Grandpa’s apartment, step by step, blanket in hand.   The rickety wooden railing wobbled in her grasp.   She could see the shadowy living room come into view through the rails as she neared the bottom.   Nana’s rocking chair was still empty.   Grandpa was already in bed and she didn’t want to disturb him.   She tip-toed through the dining room on the creaky floor boards, past his bedroom door that was a...

This past Sunday at some bizarre hour of 1: something in the morning, I posted a status on Facebook saying goodbye to social media.  I know what you're thinking, but this will not be a rant about why I hate social media. I also know that I don't have to offer any explanation to justify why I left it all behind, but I feel that I should.  So here we go... Recently, I have simply been feeling quite discouraged.  Transitions are always difficult, but the transition into college has been especially hard for me.  I almost feel like an awkward middle schooler again.  A small girl who struggles to find her place in the world.  Everyone else seems to make friends so easily, and now I can look practically anywhere and see groups of people acting like they had known each other for their entire lives.  I have felt confused and alone. Some people may say I'm experiencing some kind of...

The Barn By Emma Campbell The aged barn sits on the same old hill with its green siding, once as bright as the spring grass, now chipped and worn away from years of weathering the storms.   Open the giant sliding doors and birds flutter from their nest to fly free to the warm south. Reveal the inner sanctuary and let the dirt and hay roll in with the wind.   A gust of musty air blows through the wide open space, abandoned after years of being forgotten. It now breathes in the harsh, cold air of winter that threatens to tear it apart like a long loathed enemy.   The timeworn floorboards lie crooked on the floor, tread upon by generations of feet.   The wooden beams, rotten through with all their knots showing, barely hold the rickety structure together.   Splinters and nails jut out like knives in all directions from the trim—once pure white, now faded gray.   Dust gathers in every cranny where the air has failed to breathe its way through.   Th...

Like many others, I absolutely love this time of year.  The advent festivities, the time spent with loved ones, the lights and decorations, the cold nights spent inside snuggled up with blankets and hot chocolate.  All of it is so heart warming.  While I often don't have much time to bake, I do love to around the holidays.  This year, I wanted to contribute to my family's thanksgiving dinner, so I made maple salted caramel pecan pie bars (yes, I know it's a mouthful, but its a tasty one!).  Here is how I did it: I used a great recipe from averiecooks.com. To begin, you need (For the crust) 1 cup of all-purpose flour 1/3 cup of packed brown sugar (light or dark works) 1/2 cup of soft, unsalted butter (For the filling) 1 large egg 1/3 cup of brown sugar (light or dark) 1/3 cup of maple syrup 1 Tablespoon vanilla extract (Optional) A pinch of salt to taste 1 cup of raw, unsalted pecans 1/4 cup of salted caramel ...

So, I know I have been very inconsistent in posting here.  Maybe you haven't even noticed, but I would still like apologize for being a poor blogger. (In my defense college life is pretty crazy...) Anyway, this past semester I took an Introduction to Creative Writing course.  "So what?" you ask-- well, with that, I have many creative pieces just sitting here on my computer, not doing anything but collecting dust... or whatever untouched computer files collect.  So I thought, if you don't mind, I'd share some of them with you (hopefully) every Friday! Maybe we can entitle it a series of Fiction Fridays? To start off this series, here is a poem I like to call "Don't Read Too Carefully"-- a nonsense piece for those who like to play with words.  Enjoy! Don't Read Too Carefully By Emma Campbell If slag hugged the wispy clouds I sifted blue tears that love. They trickled through the eyes of man As we believed to know the...

Dear LORD,  You are sovereign even when, in our eyes, our world starts spinning out of control and we feel utterly helpless. You are a gracious and loving Father--Abba. You know each of your children deeply and completely. We praise you for you are good.  You are good.  You hear our cries, and you see our tears.  And one day, you will take away our pain, death will be no more, and you will wipe every tear from our eyes. But right now we weep with Paris. Right now, we boldly and humbly approach your throne because we recognize how much we need you, LORD.  Our hearts ache for the people in Paris.  Be with them now. Let your presence be close to them. Let your love shine through the midst of this dark, dark night. Be with those who have lost and with those who have been scarred. Bring healing and peace, we ask with all our hearts.  Be with those who attacked. May we be bold enough to ask you to transform their hearts. Help us to remember that you sent you...

Brushstrokes of blue that bleeds into an array of pinks and oranges. The crystal canvas of creation is kissed with golden beams of warm sunshine.  The light reflects onto the placid water that is so clear it looks as if I could just place a foot on it and-- A bird flies overhead.  A reminder of my freedom and His provision. I am rescued. If mere sparrows in the sky can thrive here, how much more will my Abba, Father provide for me. Crunch! The gravel trail begins beneath my feet and leads me back home. God, let me be like the tree planted by the stream Let me planted firm in the soil of your love Allow my heart to rest in you and my soul to delight in your ways Lead me home Remind me daily of your mercy and peace And let me never pass by your creation without letting it inspire me.

How I am going to be a college freshman in less than two weeks is something that I simply cannot explain.  Nor can I explain how time can pass so quickly without our recognition.  All I know is that suddenly, we pause for a moment, we look back, and we stand in awe of all that has passed.  We embrace warm memories with those we love, we remember the pain and the darkness of some days, but we also recall how God was there through it all.  He never left our sides and He never will. I had two amazing opportunities this summer: 1) I was able to spend twelve days in the Adirondacks with five other incoming college freshman.  It was an experience I hope to never forget. And in my nostalgia for the past and looking forward to the future, I got to rest in the wilderness for almost two weeks and process it all. 2) I also got the chance to serve in South Carolina with ten other students from my youth group and ...

I hear the rumbles roll through the sky. The noise begins as a soft whisper and transforms into a loud, thundering roar. Suddenly everything goes dark. There is a moment of panic.  My heart pounds and I can hear my pulse in my ears. But through the darkness the light somehow shines brighter than it ever had before. A flash glows and grows before my eyes and the roar cries out once more. Again and again it howls and growls. But what is it saying? Sometimes I fear it. I tremble and shake and long for the light.   But other times I do not fear but simply listen, pray, wonder, and wait.  The darkness so often seems to overcome the light. But always, always , an end comes. There is a quiet. A calm. A peace. The tranquil air is cool and still. The rain is gentle as the pitter-patter falls steadily onto the soft earth.  Then there is a silence.  An end to the darkness.  A dawn is coming.  The light will overcome the world.  ...

Some days I feel like a ghost.  Some weeks I look back and feel like I've been a ghost. Sometimes I look back and wonder if I've been a ghost all my life. Invisible. Unnoticed. Unloved. Unworthy. Not Enough. Transparent. Non-existent. Does anyone even know I'm here? Have I made any difference at all? Sometimes (most of the time) my voice is quiet. I feel like I go unheard. Like no one is listening. Sometimes I allow the lies to seep in and convince me that my voice is insignificant.       "no one cares what you have to say. they won't listen. you just shouldn't say anything at all." And so I don't. I remain silent. I buy into the lie that I am unworthy. That I am not enough. That I'm alone. That I will never be heard. But then... then... sometimes I hear His small, still voice.        "I love you. If I care for the birds, how much more will I care for you? Cast all your cares on me.     ...

  Hello friends! So I'm going to start taking orders for prints! If you have a favorite quote/song/lyric/verse/word that you want put into word art, let me know! Or if you like one of the prints I have posted in the past, those will also be available! Text me, email me, or facebook message me if you are interested or if you have any questions! Thank you! :) 3X5 = $3 5X7 = $5 8X10 = $7     New prints to come...