I'm a lucky girl. I always have been, and on some level I've always known it. Even though I was small as a child, and not much has changed, it was never for lack of food. Sometimes my parents and I fought, but I always knew they loved me. Once or twice through the years, I've had friends turn on me and leave me hurting, but new friends, better friends, have always risen up to take their place. And most recently, I have found a man who genuinely loves me, something that still makes me want to pinch myself to make sure I haven't been dreaming.
Any time I take a moment to stop and just think about my life, I realize that I've got it pretty good. These past two weeks I've been even more fortunate to be able to travel to two different countries. First to Mexico, to the city of Juarez, as part of a team to build three houses for three different families, and then to the Dominican Republic, on a vacation earned through a year of hard work.
Juarez is a city known, first and foremost, for its crime. When you mention where you are going, even strangers' eyes get wide as they warn you to be careful. Its touching that they care, but I have no fear. I believe my God will protect me, and even if he doesn't, well, I've heard the pearly gates are beautiful this time of year. From the start, it is clear what kind of city Juarez is. Poverty greets you just minutes inside the border. Houses made from scrap lumber, pallets, old signs, and sheets are the norm. To add to the effect, most of the neighborhood roads are not paved, and the sandy, dirty, bumpy roads only emphasizes the shock of the poverty.
Oddly enough, its the kind of place that feels like coming home. I'm not a skilled builder, I only speak a very broken Spanish, and I'm not good at making friends with strangers, but no matter how hectic my life is, or how directionless I feel, I always know that my time in Mexico is right. I don't get it, probably never will, but Mexico is in my blood. Sometimes I think about taking a different mission trip, say to Africa perhaps, but then I end up thinking, "But then I couldn't go to Mexico this year" and quickly ditch the idea. Like I said, its in the blood.
The Dominican, however, is different. Or at least my experience was. The DR is known as the wealthier of the two countries on the island of Hispaniola. The life expectancy is higher than Haiti, as is the literacy rate, and I would guess so is the tourists to citizens ratio. I've never heard anyone say "Hey, you know, I think Haiti would be a great place to vacation."
The accommodations are considerably better than Juarez. The toilets, for one, can handle toilet paper and you are allowed to flush them whenever you want. The food is endless, and the scenery breathtaking. The grounds of this hotel are immaculate and the rooms are, inexplicably, cleaned twice a day (if you aren't already in bed by the time round two comes along, that is). The decor is stunning, like the Titanic, only the guests are wearing swimsuit and cover ups and not tuxes and ballgowns. I usually get some amount of culture shock coming back into the overindulgence of the United States. This transition has left me overwhelmed.
Yesterday, however, we went on a tour that (finally!) let us leave our resort and I saw, from the back of a safari truck, how the people here live. Many live off the land, and the land here is fruitful, so my guess is that many less here starve, but I have no proof. The houses, on average, are bigger than those in Juarez and most look like they were intentionally built all at once and not over time as materials could be found. Still, many children were barefoot and I don't think it was always by choice.
For some reason, as we were driving by I thought of some stats I had heard. To confirm them, I just did some math (and by math I mean that I found this) Did you know that if you make $3,000, a year you are in the top 15% richest people in the world? That's approximately what I made the first year I filed taxes. I was in High School. If you make $48,000, you are in the top 1%. Occupy Wall Street came to mind and I have to think; we have no idea what it means to be the 99%. Even those of us who have thousands and thousands to go before we even make it to the top 5% have no idea. I have no idea.
I visit and see the way the rest of the world lives for a time, do what I can and leave, hoping I changed a life. Or start a revolution of love. But I'd be content with just one life.
Sometimes I hear of the lives changed by my team's actions and it still moves me to tears, but usually I just have to trust that something has been done.
This isn't necessarily a call to do something, because if you asked me how to change the world, I'd tell you, "I have no idea."
But I've been thinking about something that was said one night doing devotions in Mexico that went something like this. "There is no reason that you had to be born into the United States (where, by the way, the poverty line puts you in the top 13% of people in the world) Statistics would say you'd be way more likely to be poor. So why did God put you here? Why did he give you what you have? What does he want you to do with it?"
Friday, March 22, 2013
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Introductions
I believe its time for introductions. Bloggy world, meet Drew. Drew, meet my blog. I hope you don't mind being today's topic of conversation.
His full name is Andrew of course. We've been dating for about six weeks now. (not that anyone's counting) He works on cars, customizing and painting them. Stuff like that. I'd go into more detail but to be honest I really don't understand everything. (But I am learning!) He likes Mt Dew and hates mint. (Weird, right?) He doesn't like watching sports because it means he isn't playing sports and he knows more movie quotes than any person I know.
The question that everyone seems to be asking is "Is he a good guy? Does he treat you right?" The quick answer is "absolutely." The full answer would take so long to completely explain that I'd have no more readers left by the time I went into all the details. So, since they say a picture is worth a thousand words:
Yes, those are from him, and no we weren't celebrating anything in particular. Just a regular date. On a Monday. Flowers just because they'd make me smile? I'd say that answers the question pretty well.
He makes me smile constantly and makes me laugh at every opportunity. He is kind and sweet and, man, you've just got to meet him. He seems to find it difficult to get through a car ride across town without reaching out to hold my hand, which warms my heart every time. He is honest, which is more refreshing than I thought possible. He is courageous, which is priceless for someone who finds herself afraid of just about everything. He has a knack for saying just the right thing at just the right time, right when I need to hear it the most. He encourages me and tells me things that make me laugh in the face of my insecurities.
So yeah, I'd say he's a good guy. A great guy even and I'm lucky to have him in my life.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Conglomeration
I haven't posted in a while. Whenever this happens, it makes it hard to know what to write the first time I'm back. So many things have happened. What do I chose to write about? So, I've decided to take a different approach. Instead of writing a post to try to say all the things I've been wanting to say, I'll just use words I've already used. So here it is, the very first collection of excerpts from my journal to ever go public.
7 March 2012
"I learned a new word in life group last night. Peripety. It means a sudden change in the course of events. It often comes at a time when you least expect it. For example, in the book of Esther, you expect the course of events to change as soon as Esther points her finger at Haman and in effect says, "That man is trying to kill me!" You would think that this would be the moment that went from everything going wrong to everything going right. But no, it happens before that banquet. It happens in the middle of the night when the king has trouble sleeping and asks what should be done for Mordecai. That is the moment that the bad guy begins to meet his demise.
I found it interesting that we learned that word at this moment in my life. I believe that I have had a moment of peripety recently. It is too early yet to know if it will change the course of my life or simply the course of my summer, but it has already brought change.
It was one young girl, one afternoon at Scheels, trying on swimsuits. She struck a nerve in my heart and I felt compassion for her. So, I wrote her a letter. And I posted it to my blog. Hearing her tears seemed so very uneventful at the time, but because of it, many people have been encouraged by it. Several youth pastors, friends of mine, have shared it with their kids. My dad shared it with his church. And most recently, I have been asked to speak at camp because of it. And maybe it will end there. But maybe it won't because God likes to work like that. He likes to take those small moments that at, as long as they are happening, seem insignificant to us and he likes to turn them into something big.
Maybe, just maybe, he is taking all those car rides and afternoons on a bridge in the sun and using them to set my feet upon a path. Maybe my course is set and I just have to walk through doors."
23 April 2012, Mexico. The first day on the work-site when next to nothing seemed to go right.
"...but as always proves to be true, God is faithful. Moving the dirt took time, but it got moved. The lack of electricity meant that the boards were all measured by the time we got a saw, so when we got the generator going, we had an epic assembly line going...And though it was a close call, the cement truck did squeeze itself in and the laying of the foundation went well.
In my experience, big obstacles mean big things are going to happen, and after today, this thought is only reconfirmed. Without the trials, there would have been no victories, only tasks accomplished. Even with our setbacks, we finished everything that should have been done today...three hours later than usual, but its done. If tomorrow goes well, it will be a blessing to us all. If it goes like today, God will get us through.
God, my prayer for myself for this trip is that you might give me courage, that you might remind me once again why my heart is stuck here, that you might open my eyes to something I've never seen before. My prayer for the group is that you absolutely bring us together. Show each of us what you would have us see. Open our eyes to your lessons. Make our hearts receptive to them. And for our family, Lord. Give them peace and remind them again and again of your love each time they step foot into that house."
1May 2012
"What do you do when you leave part of your heart behind? How do you go back to the mundane when you just touched extraordinary?
I live in two places at once
My body is here.
My heart and soul are covered in dust and wielding a hammer. My thoughts are with the Mexican people and my mind on the injustice of everything."
And that doesn't take you up very recently in my life at all. I recognize that. But, all my more recent journal entries are full of things that are still too dear to my heart to share, or problems that are yet to be solved, or secrets that are not mine to tell. Also, some of them just aren't very good and I just don't want you thinking less of me. So you'll have to settle for this for now.
7 March 2012
"I learned a new word in life group last night. Peripety. It means a sudden change in the course of events. It often comes at a time when you least expect it. For example, in the book of Esther, you expect the course of events to change as soon as Esther points her finger at Haman and in effect says, "That man is trying to kill me!" You would think that this would be the moment that went from everything going wrong to everything going right. But no, it happens before that banquet. It happens in the middle of the night when the king has trouble sleeping and asks what should be done for Mordecai. That is the moment that the bad guy begins to meet his demise.
I found it interesting that we learned that word at this moment in my life. I believe that I have had a moment of peripety recently. It is too early yet to know if it will change the course of my life or simply the course of my summer, but it has already brought change.
It was one young girl, one afternoon at Scheels, trying on swimsuits. She struck a nerve in my heart and I felt compassion for her. So, I wrote her a letter. And I posted it to my blog. Hearing her tears seemed so very uneventful at the time, but because of it, many people have been encouraged by it. Several youth pastors, friends of mine, have shared it with their kids. My dad shared it with his church. And most recently, I have been asked to speak at camp because of it. And maybe it will end there. But maybe it won't because God likes to work like that. He likes to take those small moments that at, as long as they are happening, seem insignificant to us and he likes to turn them into something big.
Maybe, just maybe, he is taking all those car rides and afternoons on a bridge in the sun and using them to set my feet upon a path. Maybe my course is set and I just have to walk through doors."
23 April 2012, Mexico. The first day on the work-site when next to nothing seemed to go right.
"...but as always proves to be true, God is faithful. Moving the dirt took time, but it got moved. The lack of electricity meant that the boards were all measured by the time we got a saw, so when we got the generator going, we had an epic assembly line going...And though it was a close call, the cement truck did squeeze itself in and the laying of the foundation went well.
In my experience, big obstacles mean big things are going to happen, and after today, this thought is only reconfirmed. Without the trials, there would have been no victories, only tasks accomplished. Even with our setbacks, we finished everything that should have been done today...three hours later than usual, but its done. If tomorrow goes well, it will be a blessing to us all. If it goes like today, God will get us through.
God, my prayer for myself for this trip is that you might give me courage, that you might remind me once again why my heart is stuck here, that you might open my eyes to something I've never seen before. My prayer for the group is that you absolutely bring us together. Show each of us what you would have us see. Open our eyes to your lessons. Make our hearts receptive to them. And for our family, Lord. Give them peace and remind them again and again of your love each time they step foot into that house."
1May 2012
"What do you do when you leave part of your heart behind? How do you go back to the mundane when you just touched extraordinary?
I live in two places at once
My body is here.
My heart and soul are covered in dust and wielding a hammer. My thoughts are with the Mexican people and my mind on the injustice of everything."
And that doesn't take you up very recently in my life at all. I recognize that. But, all my more recent journal entries are full of things that are still too dear to my heart to share, or problems that are yet to be solved, or secrets that are not mine to tell. Also, some of them just aren't very good and I just don't want you thinking less of me. So you'll have to settle for this for now.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
When I grow up, I want to be Beth Moore
Ever feel like everything in life finally comes down to just this one thing? I have an amazing opportunity coming up that feels that way for me. I get to spend three days this summer talking at youth camp to a room just full of girls and I'm just absolutely pumped about it. Its one of those things that seemed to come from nowhere and yet the timing seems perfect for me.
You see, had I had the opportunity to do this in high school or even three years ago when I graduated college, I would have had all the answers. I would have known every single word to say, every word I should say, every piece of advice I have ever given to any girl would have been right there ready for me to spout off. And it would have been true. And it would have probably sounded alright.
And it would have been completely and utterly fake.
Credit it to growing up with wonderful parents who made sure I was loved and that I knew it. Or to the fact that I am naturally very small in a culture that values starving yourself to look a certain way. Or to the fact that I've lead a relatively easy life. Heck, credit it to whatever you want, but for much of my life, I've not struggled with many of the things that many other women do. I'd never tried to change anything about myself. Never dyed my hair for any reason other than for pure fun. Never tried to fit into any fashion trend. Never tried to be someone I wasn't.
And then, that all changed. Something within me broke. The reasons behind it are complicated. God asked me to follow Him and following meant taking a leap of faith which ended up feeling like I was hurtling from a plane with no parachute. All my best friends in the world moved all across the country. And some out of the country. And then my heart was broken. Twice. And again when one dream seemed to fall apart. And again when I felt abandoned by those who had promised to be there. And again when yet another friend died. I became discouraged as person after person told me I was "stuck." (Can you really be stuck when God has asked you to stay? Just a thought.) I fought with God because my dreams didn't line up with his.
All this made me question so many things. Suddenly it mattered very much to me what I wore and how my hair looked. It began to matter whether I was pretty or not. I wanted to fit in, to be noticed, to matter. I became scared, hurt, lonely. I learned what shame was, and realized you didn't have to necessarily have to do anything terrible to feel it. You just had to believe that you were worth being scorned.
Yet here I am, months out from that time and able to look back and realize just how much I've learned. I would never, ever choose to go through that again, but I think that, given the choice, I would never take that time away from myself either.
You see, God gives incredible grace, and yet, without feeling just how unworthy of it you are, can you truly appreciate the gift? He has given us freedom, but do we understand it without captivity? He has given wisdom, but without experience, doesn't it just seem trite to those listening? And if all our dreams were given to us immediately, wouldn't we be ungrateful?
So as I get ready to speak to these young women, I can stand up there and speak researched, Biblical truth, but I can say it with the experience of one who has felt a little something of the pain that I know those girls as a group, and individuals, have felt. Just the smallest portion in some, probably most, cases, but maybe that will be enough.
I've been giving it a lot of thought but I've begun to narrow down my topics. Here is where I'd like your help. If anyone out there knows of resources of any kind to fit the following topics, let me know what they are so I can begin my research. And I'm looking for any kind of resource. Book, movie, specific Bible passages, Church fathers, personal advice or anecdotes, pop culture (I'm gonna try my darndest to throw at least one Hunger Games reference in there). Anything and everything helps. Here are the (very generalized) topics I have so far; inner vs outer beauty or anything that can tie into this. God's love for his people. Courage (especially anything relating to Esther and her statement "If I die, I die.") Relationships (specifically the value of loyalty and female friendships. I would like to focus mostly on the girls' friendships with each other, but let's face it, teenage girls want to talk boys so there will probably be some of that. Guys out there, any advice you have on that subject would be handy as well.) I have some more specific ideas myself, but I kinda want to see where this will take me. Thanks everyone!
You see, had I had the opportunity to do this in high school or even three years ago when I graduated college, I would have had all the answers. I would have known every single word to say, every word I should say, every piece of advice I have ever given to any girl would have been right there ready for me to spout off. And it would have been true. And it would have probably sounded alright.
And it would have been completely and utterly fake.
Credit it to growing up with wonderful parents who made sure I was loved and that I knew it. Or to the fact that I am naturally very small in a culture that values starving yourself to look a certain way. Or to the fact that I've lead a relatively easy life. Heck, credit it to whatever you want, but for much of my life, I've not struggled with many of the things that many other women do. I'd never tried to change anything about myself. Never dyed my hair for any reason other than for pure fun. Never tried to fit into any fashion trend. Never tried to be someone I wasn't.
And then, that all changed. Something within me broke. The reasons behind it are complicated. God asked me to follow Him and following meant taking a leap of faith which ended up feeling like I was hurtling from a plane with no parachute. All my best friends in the world moved all across the country. And some out of the country. And then my heart was broken. Twice. And again when one dream seemed to fall apart. And again when I felt abandoned by those who had promised to be there. And again when yet another friend died. I became discouraged as person after person told me I was "stuck." (Can you really be stuck when God has asked you to stay? Just a thought.) I fought with God because my dreams didn't line up with his.
All this made me question so many things. Suddenly it mattered very much to me what I wore and how my hair looked. It began to matter whether I was pretty or not. I wanted to fit in, to be noticed, to matter. I became scared, hurt, lonely. I learned what shame was, and realized you didn't have to necessarily have to do anything terrible to feel it. You just had to believe that you were worth being scorned.
Yet here I am, months out from that time and able to look back and realize just how much I've learned. I would never, ever choose to go through that again, but I think that, given the choice, I would never take that time away from myself either.
You see, God gives incredible grace, and yet, without feeling just how unworthy of it you are, can you truly appreciate the gift? He has given us freedom, but do we understand it without captivity? He has given wisdom, but without experience, doesn't it just seem trite to those listening? And if all our dreams were given to us immediately, wouldn't we be ungrateful?
So as I get ready to speak to these young women, I can stand up there and speak researched, Biblical truth, but I can say it with the experience of one who has felt a little something of the pain that I know those girls as a group, and individuals, have felt. Just the smallest portion in some, probably most, cases, but maybe that will be enough.
I've been giving it a lot of thought but I've begun to narrow down my topics. Here is where I'd like your help. If anyone out there knows of resources of any kind to fit the following topics, let me know what they are so I can begin my research. And I'm looking for any kind of resource. Book, movie, specific Bible passages, Church fathers, personal advice or anecdotes, pop culture (I'm gonna try my darndest to throw at least one Hunger Games reference in there). Anything and everything helps. Here are the (very generalized) topics I have so far; inner vs outer beauty or anything that can tie into this. God's love for his people. Courage (especially anything relating to Esther and her statement "If I die, I die.") Relationships (specifically the value of loyalty and female friendships. I would like to focus mostly on the girls' friendships with each other, but let's face it, teenage girls want to talk boys so there will probably be some of that. Guys out there, any advice you have on that subject would be handy as well.) I have some more specific ideas myself, but I kinda want to see where this will take me. Thanks everyone!
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Mexico
I went to Disney world this past week. I won a trip through my work and had the opportunity to take my family. We had a great time, took pictures with characters, rode some rides and ate food. Boy did we eat food. The first place inside an actual Disney park that we ate at was this Mexican taco stand. I was slightly doubtful because nothing, and I mean nothing, can beat a good old traditional made and ate in Mexico Mexican taco. Try it. It can't be done. So I didn't have my hopes up. And despite the fact that it wasn't exactly the same, it was pretty darn close. And completely delicious. And it got me thinking about Mexico. Not that it really takes much, truth be told.
Everyone has their thing. That thing that makes them smile, or cry, or simply just feel. Mexico is that for me. The thought that I get to go back in April makes me smile and deeply happy. The statistics about the living conditions in Juarez make me so sad. And when people unknowingly (or knowingly) reveal their racism when talking about the country or its people, it makes me seethe in anger, usually quietly because I am passionate enough about the subject that I know my arguments won't sound completely rational.
I've written this blog several times, trying to put into words why I feel the way I do about Mexico, about the work I get to do down there, about God's plan with his people there, and the injustice that is being done there every single day, but I can't. No words can truly explain why this place means so much to me. I've tried and they all fall short. So I leave it with just the thought that I was in Disney World, enjoying free everything and my mind was completely wrapped up in the taco in my hand and all the thoughts that went with it.
I hesitated to include this part because this isn't about money. But, as I said, I am going again, and I know some of you love to send others to go, and I won't deprive you of that opportunity. So if you'd like to help you can send a check with my name in the memo to The Ransom Church 700 N Main, Sioux Falls, SD 57104.
But more than that, pray. Pray for our trip, that God's will will be done. It is a dangerous location and we will be driving 24 hours overnight so prayers for safety are appreciated as well. But more than that, pray for the family that we will be helping. Pray that if they do not know God that this new house will help point them to him. And pray that if they do know him that they will feel his love more and more every time they step into the house that he built through us. Pray for Mexico too. It seems like such a daunting task to tackle all of the problems there but I believe in a God who works miracles and he can do mighty things. Pray for the innocent people caught up in the crossfire of the gang wars, and the innocent people struggling to feed their family. Pray that help will come, but pray harder that comfort will be their constant companion until help arrives. The Mexican people are our neighbors, our family. Never forget that. Pray also for those who are exploiting their countrymen. Pray their hearts will be changed and that they turn from their evil ways and turn to God. Pray that if they chose to reject God and his forgiveness that justice will prevail and that evil will be defeated. Pray for the courageous policemen who put themselves on the line to fight the bad guys. Pray and never stop.
Everyone has their thing. That thing that makes them smile, or cry, or simply just feel. Mexico is that for me. The thought that I get to go back in April makes me smile and deeply happy. The statistics about the living conditions in Juarez make me so sad. And when people unknowingly (or knowingly) reveal their racism when talking about the country or its people, it makes me seethe in anger, usually quietly because I am passionate enough about the subject that I know my arguments won't sound completely rational.
I've written this blog several times, trying to put into words why I feel the way I do about Mexico, about the work I get to do down there, about God's plan with his people there, and the injustice that is being done there every single day, but I can't. No words can truly explain why this place means so much to me. I've tried and they all fall short. So I leave it with just the thought that I was in Disney World, enjoying free everything and my mind was completely wrapped up in the taco in my hand and all the thoughts that went with it.
I hesitated to include this part because this isn't about money. But, as I said, I am going again, and I know some of you love to send others to go, and I won't deprive you of that opportunity. So if you'd like to help you can send a check with my name in the memo to The Ransom Church 700 N Main, Sioux Falls, SD 57104.
But more than that, pray. Pray for our trip, that God's will will be done. It is a dangerous location and we will be driving 24 hours overnight so prayers for safety are appreciated as well. But more than that, pray for the family that we will be helping. Pray that if they do not know God that this new house will help point them to him. And pray that if they do know him that they will feel his love more and more every time they step into the house that he built through us. Pray for Mexico too. It seems like such a daunting task to tackle all of the problems there but I believe in a God who works miracles and he can do mighty things. Pray for the innocent people caught up in the crossfire of the gang wars, and the innocent people struggling to feed their family. Pray that help will come, but pray harder that comfort will be their constant companion until help arrives. The Mexican people are our neighbors, our family. Never forget that. Pray also for those who are exploiting their countrymen. Pray their hearts will be changed and that they turn from their evil ways and turn to God. Pray that if they chose to reject God and his forgiveness that justice will prevail and that evil will be defeated. Pray for the courageous policemen who put themselves on the line to fight the bad guys. Pray and never stop.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Again
Once again, I am faced with the task of dealing with coping with the death of a peer. Again the weapon was a pair of skis. Tina was killed Saturday as she learned to ski. My thoughts are not quite to the place where I can truly write cohesively about this but I am struck with one thing: how very different it feels from last time.
With Benji, I felt as though my life was suddenly placed on a tilt-a-whirl. I felt as though everything that I knew was upended and suddenly destroyed. The way I thought about life and God did not fit in with what had happened. Though I never would have admitted it before that moment, I quickly realized that I had been treating God as a genie, who simply existed to answer my prayers. I believed that if my prayers were not answered it was because I somehow failed to word them right or failed to have enough passion in my heart or faith. To find the magic words, if you will. But I prayed every possible combination of words for Benji. I prayed more passionately for him than I ever had prayed up until that point in my life. And I truly, almost naively, believed that healing would come. But it didn't. And the realization that God was not who I thought he was nearly destroyed my faith. In the words of C.S. Lewis, I learned that he was "not a tame lion." Slowly, ever so slowly, I came to believe that this was a good thing and that God's plan for my life and humanity was way more complex and truly good than anything I could ever come up with. We began to speak again.
Tina has only been gone for two days but my reaction is already so different. I already believe in a God who has things under control no matter what happens. While I am sad that I never got to know such a wonderful young lady better and my heart absolutely breaks for everyone whose pain is overwhelming today, I have more peace in my heart now than I did for months five years ago. I think about her in heaven and how lucky she is to experience that. A strange emotion has even surfaced that I never expected; jealousy. All her questions are answered. Every little thing that wasn't really an issue but bothered her anyways has disappeared. She gets to see the Lord face to face. I am struck by how much more heaven minded I am. I believed Benji was with the Lord, but I found little comfort in it at the time. Today I find so much comfort in that fact, for both Benji and Tina.
It is true that I was not as close to Tina as I was Benji but I think the reasons for my different reactions go deeper than that. There has been a real change in my soul. I still mourn, but I mourn with hope. I look at the friends I have with gratefulness and not with fear that they too would be taken from me and I thank God for the change.
But still, if you ski, please wear a helmet.
With Benji, I felt as though my life was suddenly placed on a tilt-a-whirl. I felt as though everything that I knew was upended and suddenly destroyed. The way I thought about life and God did not fit in with what had happened. Though I never would have admitted it before that moment, I quickly realized that I had been treating God as a genie, who simply existed to answer my prayers. I believed that if my prayers were not answered it was because I somehow failed to word them right or failed to have enough passion in my heart or faith. To find the magic words, if you will. But I prayed every possible combination of words for Benji. I prayed more passionately for him than I ever had prayed up until that point in my life. And I truly, almost naively, believed that healing would come. But it didn't. And the realization that God was not who I thought he was nearly destroyed my faith. In the words of C.S. Lewis, I learned that he was "not a tame lion." Slowly, ever so slowly, I came to believe that this was a good thing and that God's plan for my life and humanity was way more complex and truly good than anything I could ever come up with. We began to speak again.
Tina has only been gone for two days but my reaction is already so different. I already believe in a God who has things under control no matter what happens. While I am sad that I never got to know such a wonderful young lady better and my heart absolutely breaks for everyone whose pain is overwhelming today, I have more peace in my heart now than I did for months five years ago. I think about her in heaven and how lucky she is to experience that. A strange emotion has even surfaced that I never expected; jealousy. All her questions are answered. Every little thing that wasn't really an issue but bothered her anyways has disappeared. She gets to see the Lord face to face. I am struck by how much more heaven minded I am. I believed Benji was with the Lord, but I found little comfort in it at the time. Today I find so much comfort in that fact, for both Benji and Tina.
It is true that I was not as close to Tina as I was Benji but I think the reasons for my different reactions go deeper than that. There has been a real change in my soul. I still mourn, but I mourn with hope. I look at the friends I have with gratefulness and not with fear that they too would be taken from me and I thank God for the change.
But still, if you ski, please wear a helmet.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
New Year's Resolutions
I heard somewhere that if you share your resolutions with someone, you are more likely to keep them. So here we go, internet world. I am sharing my resolutions with you.
#1- Stick to my budget. As long as I do this, I have no reason to worry about money. Its only when I decide that I can splurge when I really can't that I have issues. AND, as many of you are well aware, my car, while still functioning quite well, is getting old and all the little things are falling apart. I'd like to not have a car payment when the thing actually dies on me and a new car with a remote start will be welcome if next winter is a true SD winter unlike this one. So saving el dinero is high priority.
#2 - Keep playing guitar even though I'm not taking lessons anymore. Playing guitar has been a dream of mine since I was little and just because #1 interferes with lessons, it doesn't mean it has to interfere with the dream.
That's it. Keeping it simple and realistic this year.
#1- Stick to my budget. As long as I do this, I have no reason to worry about money. Its only when I decide that I can splurge when I really can't that I have issues. AND, as many of you are well aware, my car, while still functioning quite well, is getting old and all the little things are falling apart. I'd like to not have a car payment when the thing actually dies on me and a new car with a remote start will be welcome if next winter is a true SD winter unlike this one. So saving el dinero is high priority.
#2 - Keep playing guitar even though I'm not taking lessons anymore. Playing guitar has been a dream of mine since I was little and just because #1 interferes with lessons, it doesn't mean it has to interfere with the dream.
That's it. Keeping it simple and realistic this year.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Whoops!
I did something stupid. I mean really, really stupid. You see I just had to go and write a post that was apparently pretty good. It got posted on Facebook. And re-posted, and shared and shared again, and people I didn't even know were reading it and commenting on it. Someone even said they wished someone had shared that letter with them when they were younger. Overnight, it seemed, I had five times as many people looking at that one post as I had looking at any other post.
The problem is, now I can't write. It seems I have nothing to say. Suddenly the pressure is there to improve upon my work, even if the pressure is only coming from myself. But I can't, not right now at least. It must have been a moment of inspiration that led me to speak to a girl I don't even know and who will probably never know I even thought of her. I can't fabricate inspiration. I'm not that good.
I write for fun. Most of my life I've been writing for myself. I have journals and journals full of pointless ramblings because I didn't have anything to say but wanted to say it anyways. I have short stories and dialogues and a few poems as well. I have stories in my head that could one day become a novel if I could just figure out what happens in the end. Or in the middle. Or the beginning.
Most of the stuff I wrote in order to impress people was pretty awful, I always thought. Or boring at least. Essays with five sentence paragraphs that begin and conclude thoughts nicely and neatly with just the facts and nothing more always were boring to me. To read and to write. The first time I ever had a teacher praise my work, and I mean really praise it, was when I was a senior in high school and I stopped caring about grades and simply sat at a computer and wrote what was on my mind. I don't think my teacher knew I was sarcastic until that moment and she loved it. From that moment on, I stopped trying to follow structure. I wrote for myself, and what I wanted to write about, with the occasional Greek paper as a partial exception. (I always seemed to find something I was interested in to insert into the paper.)
But for some reason I decided to write where others could see, not just my teachers. I was still writing for myself, only others could read it. Now, though, for the first time I feel the need to impress, to live up to the standard that I so foolishly set. What a mistake!
I'm going to ignore that standard and keep writing for myself. If you'd like, you may continue to read what I have to say. If you don't like it, go read some C.S. Lewis, or Orson Scott Card, two writers who, in my opinion, always live up to their own lofty standards.
The problem is, now I can't write. It seems I have nothing to say. Suddenly the pressure is there to improve upon my work, even if the pressure is only coming from myself. But I can't, not right now at least. It must have been a moment of inspiration that led me to speak to a girl I don't even know and who will probably never know I even thought of her. I can't fabricate inspiration. I'm not that good.
I write for fun. Most of my life I've been writing for myself. I have journals and journals full of pointless ramblings because I didn't have anything to say but wanted to say it anyways. I have short stories and dialogues and a few poems as well. I have stories in my head that could one day become a novel if I could just figure out what happens in the end. Or in the middle. Or the beginning.
Most of the stuff I wrote in order to impress people was pretty awful, I always thought. Or boring at least. Essays with five sentence paragraphs that begin and conclude thoughts nicely and neatly with just the facts and nothing more always were boring to me. To read and to write. The first time I ever had a teacher praise my work, and I mean really praise it, was when I was a senior in high school and I stopped caring about grades and simply sat at a computer and wrote what was on my mind. I don't think my teacher knew I was sarcastic until that moment and she loved it. From that moment on, I stopped trying to follow structure. I wrote for myself, and what I wanted to write about, with the occasional Greek paper as a partial exception. (I always seemed to find something I was interested in to insert into the paper.)
But for some reason I decided to write where others could see, not just my teachers. I was still writing for myself, only others could read it. Now, though, for the first time I feel the need to impress, to live up to the standard that I so foolishly set. What a mistake!
I'm going to ignore that standard and keep writing for myself. If you'd like, you may continue to read what I have to say. If you don't like it, go read some C.S. Lewis, or Orson Scott Card, two writers who, in my opinion, always live up to their own lofty standards.
Friday, December 16, 2011
A letter to a stranger
Dear young lady trying on swimsuits today,
I wish I knew you so we could have this conversation face to face. I heard you crying and the sound broke my heart. Sometimes kids are just rude to their parents, but I know the angry words you said to yours today came from the hurt and frustration you felt as you tried suit after suit that was just too small. You may not believe it but so many of us, maybe even all of us, have had our share of meltdowns in the dressing room. One part of the body is too big, another to small, arms are too short, shoulders are too broad. Trust me, I work in clothing, I've heard it all. No one is runway-model perfect. No one. Not even the models. They usually starve themselves to look the way they do and by the time you see their picture they've been tummy-tucked even more.
But I know a secret. You are beautiful. Truly you are. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. I don't know you, but I know the one who made you and I know he doesn't make mistakes. The boys may not think it now, but you are a rare gem, a beauty beyond measure. Your inner self is made in the image of the most beautiful being ever. I know its frustrating to not be the way you want to be or to be the way the world thinks you should be but don't let that define you. The girls who let that define them become obsessive, anorexic, fake. The real you is too exquisite to hide. I know many beautiful women. Few of them have "the perfect body."
Being a teenager is so hard. Every mean comment takes up residence in your brain, every heartbreak feels like a black hole, every imperfection feels like its being posted on a big screen for the world to see. I hope you know the truth, the author of the truth, because only he can really show you how valuable you are. Don't let one bad day buying swimsuits influence the image you see in the mirror.
The Lord and Creator of all things loves you and calls you his child. That is all you need. He thinks you're pretty special and beautiful beyond compare.
I wish I knew you so we could have this conversation face to face. I heard you crying and the sound broke my heart. Sometimes kids are just rude to their parents, but I know the angry words you said to yours today came from the hurt and frustration you felt as you tried suit after suit that was just too small. You may not believe it but so many of us, maybe even all of us, have had our share of meltdowns in the dressing room. One part of the body is too big, another to small, arms are too short, shoulders are too broad. Trust me, I work in clothing, I've heard it all. No one is runway-model perfect. No one. Not even the models. They usually starve themselves to look the way they do and by the time you see their picture they've been tummy-tucked even more.
But I know a secret. You are beautiful. Truly you are. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. I don't know you, but I know the one who made you and I know he doesn't make mistakes. The boys may not think it now, but you are a rare gem, a beauty beyond measure. Your inner self is made in the image of the most beautiful being ever. I know its frustrating to not be the way you want to be or to be the way the world thinks you should be but don't let that define you. The girls who let that define them become obsessive, anorexic, fake. The real you is too exquisite to hide. I know many beautiful women. Few of them have "the perfect body."
Being a teenager is so hard. Every mean comment takes up residence in your brain, every heartbreak feels like a black hole, every imperfection feels like its being posted on a big screen for the world to see. I hope you know the truth, the author of the truth, because only he can really show you how valuable you are. Don't let one bad day buying swimsuits influence the image you see in the mirror.
The Lord and Creator of all things loves you and calls you his child. That is all you need. He thinks you're pretty special and beautiful beyond compare.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Merry Christmas Ransom Church!
This weekend has been...well...hard. Five years ago this weekend a good friend died in a skiing accident. Four years ago this same weekend I witnessed someone die for the first (and so far, only) time. On Friday a small private plane crashed taking off from the airport here and killed all three passengers and the pilot. One of the men in the plane went to our church. I didn't know him well but his family, members of my church family, are hurting right now, and my heart aches for them. Logic tells me that there is nothing cursed about the second weekend of December, but still, every time it comes around, I find myself holding my breath just a little.
Despite all the negativity associated with this weekend, this year another significant chapter in my life begins. This time it is something good. Very good. This weekend was the very last weekend that the Ransom Church will ever meet in a movie theater. Several months ago we bought a building and next week we meet for the very first time in that building. God's got such a great sense of humor on the timing of that one, doesn't he? "Merry Christmas guys! I got you a building!" I'm sure I'm going get some fantastic gifts this year, but its sure going to be hard to top that one.
I can't tell you how unbelievably excited I am for this new building, but there is definitely a taste of the bitter mixed with the sweet. Even though it has been called "the fifth most ghetto place in Sioux Falls," God has done some amazing things from that movie theater. He has changed lives. He has brought new followers to him, brought runaways back, and given new purpose to those who love him but were beginning to forget what it was all about. I began my time here in Sioux Falls fascinated by a group of people who dared to call a theater a holy place. I stayed because, though imperfect, they love like God loves. I know you can find that in many, many churches, including countless here in Sioux Falls, but it was this body of believers who became family. So when I say I was a little sad to walk out of that place today for the last time as a church, you'll understand that it is because God was there.
Great thing is, God already parked himself at the corner of 3rd and Main long ago. He had this place picked out long before we saw it, envisioned ourselves in it, or dreamed it would ever be possible to own. He has a purpose for us here and I know I am not the only one who is ridiculously excited to see what it is. Its a little sad to see the old place go, but it doesn't even hold a candle to how happy I am to call the new one home.
Despite all the negativity associated with this weekend, this year another significant chapter in my life begins. This time it is something good. Very good. This weekend was the very last weekend that the Ransom Church will ever meet in a movie theater. Several months ago we bought a building and next week we meet for the very first time in that building. God's got such a great sense of humor on the timing of that one, doesn't he? "Merry Christmas guys! I got you a building!" I'm sure I'm going get some fantastic gifts this year, but its sure going to be hard to top that one.
I can't tell you how unbelievably excited I am for this new building, but there is definitely a taste of the bitter mixed with the sweet. Even though it has been called "the fifth most ghetto place in Sioux Falls," God has done some amazing things from that movie theater. He has changed lives. He has brought new followers to him, brought runaways back, and given new purpose to those who love him but were beginning to forget what it was all about. I began my time here in Sioux Falls fascinated by a group of people who dared to call a theater a holy place. I stayed because, though imperfect, they love like God loves. I know you can find that in many, many churches, including countless here in Sioux Falls, but it was this body of believers who became family. So when I say I was a little sad to walk out of that place today for the last time as a church, you'll understand that it is because God was there.
Great thing is, God already parked himself at the corner of 3rd and Main long ago. He had this place picked out long before we saw it, envisioned ourselves in it, or dreamed it would ever be possible to own. He has a purpose for us here and I know I am not the only one who is ridiculously excited to see what it is. Its a little sad to see the old place go, but it doesn't even hold a candle to how happy I am to call the new one home.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Christmas is Weird
The last few posts have been serious and I'm ready for a little fun. So tonight I'm going to write about how absolutely weird Christmas is. The Christmas tree is on. The stocking is being raided early (yes, I already have candy in there. Resse's. A gift from a sweet friend. Get it? Sweet? Candy? Don't worry, its funny, because I am hilarious.) The fireplace DVD is on. So is the "Christian Contemporary Christmas" station on Pandora. "Christian" to ensure I hear at least a few carols and in hope that I don't hear "Winter Wonderland" or "Let it Snow" in ANY annoying version again today. I am officially being as Christmas-y as possible without actually breaking out the ugly sweater because that is way too good to waste on an evening alone.
So here we go, my top 7 reasons that Christmas is weird:
1. The word Yule. I just don't get it. And what even is a yule log? Or yuletide? Or wassail? Or figgy pudding?
2. Christmas music. Obviously. I work in retail, I'm allowed to be slightly Grinch-like about this. Especially when we listen to the same 8 songs in 12 different versions every day! And especially when the people who made the playlist did dumb things like choose the 12 second version of the Dahoo-Dores song from the Grinch instead of the full song from the end of the movie. (By the way, did you know its actually daHoo and not daVoo. I didn't. Until now.) Maybe this is why my favorite song at work is "You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch." But even taking all Grinchiness out of it, think about how weird it is. What other holiday has an entire genre of music? Take Valentine's day. "But we need a little Valentine's. Right this very minute. Roses at my doorstep. Chocolate wrapped in paper." It just doesn't work.
3. Romance. Can somebody please explain to me how Christmas went from being about the salvation of mankind to how important it is to be kissing under the mistletoe? We have mistletoe in our apartment and I can assure you it doesn't work, to begin with. And what's so romantic about the cold anyways? We sing about romantic sleigh rides but who has even ridden in a sleigh? Do they even exist anymore? I guess it would be romantic to snuggle up with the portable furnaces that men tend to be but seriously, when I'm outside in December, I'm usually not thinking, "Hey, let's stare into each other's eyes for a minute." Its usually, "Get me inside before I learn that it actually is possible for eyeballs to freeze."
4. Presents. Okay, maybe when we were kids it made more sense. Kids don't make money, so giving them gifts is perfectly acceptable. But what about when we are older? Half the time we just give each other gift cards anyways. Its like my dad said, "Why don't I just go and get a hundred dollar bill and give it to mom, who can pass it to one kid, to the next, to the next and so on and I'll get it back and put it back in the bank. Merry Christmas! In fact, let's just make it a thousand!" That's kinda what gift cards are. I know, I know, the idea is to give a gift that they wouldn't normally get themselves but how often do we put that much thought into it? Maybe I'm just jaded by seeing so many lists where the child has cut out pictures and demanded that they get that exact one. You wouldn't believe how many people come in only to find that the exact color requested isn't in stock and then get on the phone and ask the child who is getting the gift what would be an acceptable alternative. Seriously? Whatever happened to surprises and giving out of love and not obligation?
5. Increased Donations at Christmas. I get its the end of the year and all that tax-deductible whatever, plus I'm sure many people give out of the generosity of their hearts from their Christmas bonuses and I know organizations aren't crying about the budget-boosting, but don't people know that people are hungry in January too? That is all.
6. Fireplace DVDs. I love my fireplace DVD. Too much probably. And I know its all in my head, but I do feel warmer when its on. And if you don't have one, you should get one. Check Walgreens. Got mine for $2 there last year and its the best thing that's ever happened to Sunday Night Hot Drinks. But I admit it. Its super weird.
7. Green and Red. Pink and red. Red, white, and blue. Orange and Black. Who picks these colors anyway?
Don't get me wrong. I love Christmas. Sometimes I repeat that phrase over and over to myself between clenched teeth to remember that Christmas isn't about rude customers who snap their fingers at you like a dog, or who blame you for the fact that what they want isn't real or that it is real but costs too much. I love Christmas. (almost as much as I love the song that just came on. I Celebrate the Day by Relient K. Good job Pandora.) I even love most parts of the things I talked about above. Mistletoe may not create romantic magic, but it certainly creates hilarious moments. As my sister would say, "You say weird as if its a bad thing."
I guess it makes sense though, seeing where the holiday gets its origins. God as a baby, born to die? Weirdest thing I ever heard of. Awesome, but weird.
So here we go, my top 7 reasons that Christmas is weird:
1. The word Yule. I just don't get it. And what even is a yule log? Or yuletide? Or wassail? Or figgy pudding?
2. Christmas music. Obviously. I work in retail, I'm allowed to be slightly Grinch-like about this. Especially when we listen to the same 8 songs in 12 different versions every day! And especially when the people who made the playlist did dumb things like choose the 12 second version of the Dahoo-Dores song from the Grinch instead of the full song from the end of the movie. (By the way, did you know its actually daHoo and not daVoo. I didn't. Until now.) Maybe this is why my favorite song at work is "You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch." But even taking all Grinchiness out of it, think about how weird it is. What other holiday has an entire genre of music? Take Valentine's day. "But we need a little Valentine's. Right this very minute. Roses at my doorstep. Chocolate wrapped in paper." It just doesn't work.
3. Romance. Can somebody please explain to me how Christmas went from being about the salvation of mankind to how important it is to be kissing under the mistletoe? We have mistletoe in our apartment and I can assure you it doesn't work, to begin with. And what's so romantic about the cold anyways? We sing about romantic sleigh rides but who has even ridden in a sleigh? Do they even exist anymore? I guess it would be romantic to snuggle up with the portable furnaces that men tend to be but seriously, when I'm outside in December, I'm usually not thinking, "Hey, let's stare into each other's eyes for a minute." Its usually, "Get me inside before I learn that it actually is possible for eyeballs to freeze."
4. Presents. Okay, maybe when we were kids it made more sense. Kids don't make money, so giving them gifts is perfectly acceptable. But what about when we are older? Half the time we just give each other gift cards anyways. Its like my dad said, "Why don't I just go and get a hundred dollar bill and give it to mom, who can pass it to one kid, to the next, to the next and so on and I'll get it back and put it back in the bank. Merry Christmas! In fact, let's just make it a thousand!" That's kinda what gift cards are. I know, I know, the idea is to give a gift that they wouldn't normally get themselves but how often do we put that much thought into it? Maybe I'm just jaded by seeing so many lists where the child has cut out pictures and demanded that they get that exact one. You wouldn't believe how many people come in only to find that the exact color requested isn't in stock and then get on the phone and ask the child who is getting the gift what would be an acceptable alternative. Seriously? Whatever happened to surprises and giving out of love and not obligation?
5. Increased Donations at Christmas. I get its the end of the year and all that tax-deductible whatever, plus I'm sure many people give out of the generosity of their hearts from their Christmas bonuses and I know organizations aren't crying about the budget-boosting, but don't people know that people are hungry in January too? That is all.
6. Fireplace DVDs. I love my fireplace DVD. Too much probably. And I know its all in my head, but I do feel warmer when its on. And if you don't have one, you should get one. Check Walgreens. Got mine for $2 there last year and its the best thing that's ever happened to Sunday Night Hot Drinks. But I admit it. Its super weird.
7. Green and Red. Pink and red. Red, white, and blue. Orange and Black. Who picks these colors anyway?
Don't get me wrong. I love Christmas. Sometimes I repeat that phrase over and over to myself between clenched teeth to remember that Christmas isn't about rude customers who snap their fingers at you like a dog, or who blame you for the fact that what they want isn't real or that it is real but costs too much. I love Christmas. (almost as much as I love the song that just came on. I Celebrate the Day by Relient K. Good job Pandora.) I even love most parts of the things I talked about above. Mistletoe may not create romantic magic, but it certainly creates hilarious moments. As my sister would say, "You say weird as if its a bad thing."
I guess it makes sense though, seeing where the holiday gets its origins. God as a baby, born to die? Weirdest thing I ever heard of. Awesome, but weird.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
We'll face unafraid, the plans that we've made...
.....walking in a winter wonderland.
Now, I'm not really sure what facing the future with courage has to do with walking in the snow, but I must say, that of all the lyrics in all the not-really-about-Christmas Christmas songs out there, this line is my favorite. The rest of the song annoys me, especially since the store apparently thinks everyone would just love to hear two versions of the same song back to back. (Seriously people I know that Christmas music isn't the biggest genre out there, but there are so many better, or at least more, options! I heard this song at least three times today. I think I'd prefer Suzie Snowflake.)
I like this line because it speaks of courage. Some may say optimism, some may call it wistful thinking, but I like to think that it has a deeper meaning behind it, whether the lyricist meant it to or not. See, I think that to say "we'll face unafraid" implies that the young couple knows that their plans are just outrageous enough that if they think about it too much they might actually be afraid to face them. And so they decide to face them anyways, without fear. The world may see that as foolish. I see that as courage. Because isn't that a little bit what courage is? Foolishness? Isn't it just a little foolish for that young man to risk his life in our military? Isn't it a little foolish to run into that burning building to find the child that is still inside? Isn't it foolish to rush to the aid of a stranger in need when danger could be just around the corner? And yet we don't call these people foolish. We call them heroes. Courage is looking foolishness in the eye and saying, "There is something that is worth more than my fear."
The opportunity to demonstrate courage that big and bold doesn't come to us every day. I have many friends in the military. Few are overseas at the moment. Most likely they won't need to make the choice to risk their lives for another anytime soon. Same with the rest of us. A few have chosen professions that put them in danger often; firefighters, police officers. The rest of us may one day have the opportunity to save a life. We may witness a car crash or a heart attack and be able to rise to the occasion but that situation will come upon us suddenly, with no warning. You can decide to be heroes now but when the time comes, you may forget how to unlock the car door and be rendered useless.
I wonder, though, what would happen if we faced every day looking for opportunities to be courageous. What if we decided to ask someone who is clearly struggling if we could help even though it may be a huge time commitment? What if we started saving money for our dreams now so we can see them realized later? What if we saw an opportunity and took advantage of it, not in spite of being scared but because of it?
Its funny how courage isn't really thought about until it is lacking or shown extraordinarily. And when we do see it we realize how much we’ve missed it. Now, I don’t mean that we should go out looking for danger to prove that we are brave. Courage can be shown every day. For example I had a friend tell me recently that she'd been asked out by a guy she wasn't interested in. Even though she was not attracted to him, she was very impressed that he had the guts to say something. Now, I'm not sure if this was showing extraordinary courage of the kind to be likened to death defying feats of bravery, but it definitely stood in stark contrast to experiences that every single girl in the room had dealt with where someone had taken the easy way out rather than ask one simple question.
It makes me think of the question that a junior high teacher once asked my class. "What would you do if you knew you could not fail?" I’ve always thought about that question in the context of the big things, save-the-world kind of things. But I wonder if we lived every day with that question in our hearts and just went for things what would happen. I think the courage to face the big stuff would follow. Should we experiment? After all, failure isn’t so bad, as long as we keep trying something new. Did you know that Edison wasn’t the first person to come up with the concept of the light bulb? He was just the first person to have the determination and courage to try thousands and thousands of filaments until one worked long enough to be practical. Everyone else took the easy way out and have been forgotten about entirely.
So here's my question to you: "What would you do if you knew you could not fail?"
So here's my question to you: "What would you do if you knew you could not fail?"
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Advice
Lately I've been trying to be intentional about seeing God's hand in the every day, which is quite hard when you are also trying to think on things that are true. God isn't always obvious with his actions and sometimes they seem like coincidence, so its easy to say that its an overactive mind making connections that aren't there when this certain thing happens to be occurring right at this certain, ironic moment.
So on Sunday when the thought popped into my mind to ask Friend A for advice, I was aware that this might not be just a random thought but a thought from God. I normally would not ask Friend A for advice. In fact I don't really talk to Friend A for reasons that are entirely my fault (and for which I hope he knows how truly sorry I am). So it was likely that this thought was not my own. I thought "yeah, but..." and God answered my "yeah, but..." with an opportunity to speak to him. And another and another. I kept turning them down until finally as I was walking away the last time God stopped me and said, "Seriously? You ask to see my hand and then ignore it when I make it super-obvious." So I turned around and marched right back in and asked A for the advice I needed.
Funny thing was, I knew exactly what he would say. Not the exact words but the general idea. I don't want to give too many details so forgive me for over-simplifying but essentially he said, "Suck it up and get over it." These were the words that I needed to hear and I knew it but for some reason I tried to argue with him once he said it. In the middle of my sentence I stopped and said, "I should just stop talking and walk away and let you talk me out of doing something stupid. I came to you so you'd talk me out of stupid actions and I'm not letting you do it." He agreed with my sentiments about Friend B's actions and that should have been enough.
Isn't that the way it goes though? We all want and seek advice but how often do we listen to it? I catch myself doing this all the time. I can't tell you how many times I've said or thought to myself, "If this were one of the girls in my dorm I'd tell her to..." but then not take that advice myself. I believe my brother-in-law put it best when he said, "I am capable of making good decisions, the problem is that I just don't." We all laughed at him because he was just so dang honest but I think that he probably speaks for the majority of humanity when he says that. So often great advice is given but not taken and I will readily admit that I myself am guilty of letting good advice pass me by.
I probably should have made this post about things I'm thankful for seeing as its Thanksgiving today but this post has been working in my mind since Sunday and I took the first opportunity to write that I could. Now the turkey needs to be put in the oven but I'll leave you with a brief summary of some things I'm thankful for today and everyday.
Family, friends, roommates, The Ransom and our beautiful new building, sunshine, turkey, days off, a job, a roof over my head, food to eat, clean water to drink, delicious teas including chai, Constant Comment, and a new favorite: Sleepytime. I'm thankful for friends who say the hard things when I need to hear it and who lift me up when I'm down. I'm thankful for a life group this past semester that was just simply rockin' and that there is a guitar sitting in my room right now and I actually know what to do with it.
Happy Thanksgiving!
So on Sunday when the thought popped into my mind to ask Friend A for advice, I was aware that this might not be just a random thought but a thought from God. I normally would not ask Friend A for advice. In fact I don't really talk to Friend A for reasons that are entirely my fault (and for which I hope he knows how truly sorry I am). So it was likely that this thought was not my own. I thought "yeah, but..." and God answered my "yeah, but..." with an opportunity to speak to him. And another and another. I kept turning them down until finally as I was walking away the last time God stopped me and said, "Seriously? You ask to see my hand and then ignore it when I make it super-obvious." So I turned around and marched right back in and asked A for the advice I needed.
Funny thing was, I knew exactly what he would say. Not the exact words but the general idea. I don't want to give too many details so forgive me for over-simplifying but essentially he said, "Suck it up and get over it." These were the words that I needed to hear and I knew it but for some reason I tried to argue with him once he said it. In the middle of my sentence I stopped and said, "I should just stop talking and walk away and let you talk me out of doing something stupid. I came to you so you'd talk me out of stupid actions and I'm not letting you do it." He agreed with my sentiments about Friend B's actions and that should have been enough.
Isn't that the way it goes though? We all want and seek advice but how often do we listen to it? I catch myself doing this all the time. I can't tell you how many times I've said or thought to myself, "If this were one of the girls in my dorm I'd tell her to..." but then not take that advice myself. I believe my brother-in-law put it best when he said, "I am capable of making good decisions, the problem is that I just don't." We all laughed at him because he was just so dang honest but I think that he probably speaks for the majority of humanity when he says that. So often great advice is given but not taken and I will readily admit that I myself am guilty of letting good advice pass me by.
I probably should have made this post about things I'm thankful for seeing as its Thanksgiving today but this post has been working in my mind since Sunday and I took the first opportunity to write that I could. Now the turkey needs to be put in the oven but I'll leave you with a brief summary of some things I'm thankful for today and everyday.
Family, friends, roommates, The Ransom and our beautiful new building, sunshine, turkey, days off, a job, a roof over my head, food to eat, clean water to drink, delicious teas including chai, Constant Comment, and a new favorite: Sleepytime. I'm thankful for friends who say the hard things when I need to hear it and who lift me up when I'm down. I'm thankful for a life group this past semester that was just simply rockin' and that there is a guitar sitting in my room right now and I actually know what to do with it.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Monday, November 7, 2011
Whatever is true...
Sometimes I get stuck. Sometimes there's just one thing that won't leave me alone. A thought or a quote, often its a Bible verse. I'll be trucking along, reading when all in a sudden I can't go on. I go back and reread a passage over and over again until it sinks into my brain. Often I'll pick up my Bible the next day expecting to read the next chapter but I find myself fixated on the very same passage as the day before. It won't let me go. This week that passage is Philippians 4:8:
Finally, brothers, whatever is true,
whatever is noble,
whatever is right,
whatever is pure,
whatever is lovely,
whatever is admirable-if anything is excellent or praiseworthy-think about such things.
Actually, I'm not even stuck on the whole verse. As I reread I include the whole verse as well as 4-9 as well and everything in these few verses is absolute gold, but what I'm really, truly stuck on is three words. Whatever is true.
I am told that men and women think differently. Because of this I expect that most women who read this will sigh inwardly with understanding. Perhaps the men will be slightly confused but I think not too much. See, I've had multiple conversations with women about how what we are feeling so often becomes so strong and overwhelming that in our minds it becomes reality and it takes a whole lot of convincing to tell us otherwise. So much of the running commentary in our brains is packed full of untruths:
"I'm fat"
"I'm ugly"
"No one loves me"
"No one loves me"
"I'm no good at anything"
"I'm worthless"
"I'm hopeless"
We get these ideas into our heads and every idea we have is shaped around them. We obsess over what we eat to be the "perfect body shape." (As if such a thing even exists. Seriously, ask anyone, even the most beautiful person you know and I can bet they can pinpoint at least one thing they'd like to change if they could.) We spend obscene amounts of dollars on makeup and clothing to try to look pretty. We change who we are to try to fit in. We try to do everything to prove that we can, or we do nothing so no one sees us fail. We try to be important, to be needed. We try to change who we are.
We also try to change the past. We constantly obsess about what we would have done if we could have done things differently:
"If only I hadn't said anything, then she wouldn't be mad at me."
"If only I had made a different choice, then my life wouldn't be falling apart."
"If only I'd fought for him more, then he'd still love me."
We try to change the past by imagining how much better it could have been. We ask what if, which is such a dangerous, dangerous question. We also take small things and blow them way out of proportion, both good and bad:
"He smiled at me, that means he likes me and he'll ask me out and we'll get married and I'll name our kids after his great grandparents, I should probably figure out what those are."
"My friend just walked past me and only smiled. And it didn't look like a real smile. I bet she's mad. Probably at me. But really, I'm the one who should be mad at her, because of that one time that she did that one thing. How dare she be mad at me?"
And now you all are thinking, "That's totally me!" or "She is a crazy person!"
So when I read these three words, "whatever is true," of course I got stuck. This false thinking permeates so much of our lives. So, I tried an experiment. I tried to not think things that were not true. It turned out way harder than I expected. But I learned something. Its way better. So many of the things that make me upset make me upset because of the untrue proportions I take them to.
For example, at work right now, we are getting ready for the holiday season. Soon, it will be getting South Dakota cold and people will be wanting coats and hats and gloves and they're going to want it all to be magical and weigh nothing but keep you as warm as a Jamaican beach in July when its snowing and the wind is howling and the river froze solid 35 degrees earlier. And they're going to want a very specific hoodie that they knew we carried 5 years ago and they can't believe we don't carry that specific shade of puke green anymore and we ruined Christmas because we didn't have exactly what they wanted.
Can I tell you something? Those days and those customers will come. And the week before Christmas is probably the least full of holiday cheer in retail possible. But, its not even Thanksgiving yet. Can I tell you what kind of people go shopping for Christmas gifts before Thanksgiving and coats before the first snow? The really nice kind. The kind who are not in a hurry and who aren't going to blame you for the fact that their coat doesn't fit and its cold now but we just don't have their size. So what good is it to me to become anxious about these hypothetical customers now? Dwelling on the fact that they will come only makes it more irritating when they do.
I knew a young woman once who was convinced that a certain young man and her were destined to be together because they happened to be the only two customers in a coffee shop once and he said hi and they talked and it had to be God putting them together. Was it any surprise that she was hurt in the end? What if she had thought about what was true? He was a very friendly guy and a great friend. She could have gained a wonderful friendship instead of being bitterly disappointed. I do this to myself all the time. Instead of dwelling on what I have, I think about what I could have and completely miss out on the joy of what it was that I had in the first place.
What do you think? What are some untrue things that we/you dwell on? What kinds of truths should we be dwelling on?
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
$3, 3 days
I wish I had written this blog last week when it was fresh and before I heard the sermon. First of all because the effect is not as strong as it was but also because I just heard Micah quote Pastor Phil almost word for word what I wanted to say. So for those of you who heard that, I promise I am not just copying him.
Last week my church did what we called the 3 for 3 campaign. We had three days where we were allowed only $3 worth of food per day to try to understand a little better what so much of the world goes through. I checked the box and did it and thought to myself that the hardest part would be no convenience food. Even McDonalds is too expensive for this if you want to eat more than once a day. I knew that I would have to give up sweets. (A can of pop at work is $.65, more than half the cost of one meal. A bottle is more than an entire meal.) I knew I would have to plan, because I wouldn't be able to stop by the store on the way to work to pick up a salad. (More than a day's worth in one mostly unsatisfying meal) I knew snacks like almonds were going to be off the list. (unless I could force myself to stop eating them after two) What I didn't expect was hunger. I know that sounds strange, to only have three dollars and not expect hunger, but I thought I could eat enough chicken and rice to be full. Surprisingly, that wasn't the case.
The first shock came when I figured out how much my homemade veggie soup cost per serving, almost $2! This is the meal that I make for myself in large quantities and freeze in order to save time and money. Even my cheap food was too expensive. If I had divided each of the frozen containers in half, I would have been okay, but I would have been hungry. I planned out my meals carefully, counting pennies. I had the three days planned out and was feeling good.
Until I ate lunch on the first day. Spaghetti. I was hungry long before dinner, which was strange because this is a common meal for me. I guess the more you think about food the more hungry you feel. Oh well, dinner came soon enough. Two slices of bread, two tablespoon peanut butter, ten carrots and sixty-five cents worth of salad. Don't forget to count the dressing too. I was hungry, but that made sense because I had budgeted some wiggle room for snacks. Problem was, I didn't think to bring any. There is a vending machine at work but everything in it would have put me over my budget. Snacks would have to wait until I could pick up some Ramen on the way home at 9:00. Ten cents. Piece of cake.
Strangely enough I must have caught my manager coming off of his break because he held out a cookie and said, "Want a cookie?" I accepted it without thinking but then reconsidered. Of course if someone was actually starving they would accept this gift without calculating how much it cost, but the point of the exercise was to live like the other half lives, not to see how much free food I could acquire. How much does a cookie cost anyways? I figured it was probably less than the forty-five cents I had left for the day and so I ate it, but I was more grateful for that cookie at that moment than I thought possible.
I went to bed hungry. Why is it that on any normal day a pb&j with carrots and a salad would have been just fine but the day that you are told you cannot have anything else is the day that you are suddenly obsessed with food? In the morning I decided to skip breakfast so that I could have more food for lunch. I've never done that before. Okay well, I do every year for Thanksgiving I suppose, but that's only so I can be even more of a glutton by the time the turkey gets done. I've never had to decide whether or not eating this food now would be better or skipping this meal so the next one could perhaps be big enough to be satisfying. Reality check #1.
I became more and more aware of what other people have to go through when each meal became less and less satisfying. Its one thing to have one meal that is slightly too small, but every meal? That is something I've never experienced. I've fasted before and so I've been so hungry that you can't quite see straight and your head begins to hurt, but to feel that way after three days where I could still eat, just not enough? I never imagined I'd feel that way. And then when Thursday rolled around and I could eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted I realized just how spoiled I am. The people who have to live on less than three dollars a day don't have any clue when or if their hunger will ever end. They don't always know when their next meal will be and they would be willing to bet their life that it won't be satisfying. I was counting down the meals to Thursday while they are just trying to find something to eat today.
I don't really know how to end this post, only to say that if you want an idea what many other people go through, you should try this challenge. Just remember though, much of the world lives on even less. Can you believe it? Feel spoiled yet?
Last week my church did what we called the 3 for 3 campaign. We had three days where we were allowed only $3 worth of food per day to try to understand a little better what so much of the world goes through. I checked the box and did it and thought to myself that the hardest part would be no convenience food. Even McDonalds is too expensive for this if you want to eat more than once a day. I knew that I would have to give up sweets. (A can of pop at work is $.65, more than half the cost of one meal. A bottle is more than an entire meal.) I knew I would have to plan, because I wouldn't be able to stop by the store on the way to work to pick up a salad. (More than a day's worth in one mostly unsatisfying meal) I knew snacks like almonds were going to be off the list. (unless I could force myself to stop eating them after two) What I didn't expect was hunger. I know that sounds strange, to only have three dollars and not expect hunger, but I thought I could eat enough chicken and rice to be full. Surprisingly, that wasn't the case.
The first shock came when I figured out how much my homemade veggie soup cost per serving, almost $2! This is the meal that I make for myself in large quantities and freeze in order to save time and money. Even my cheap food was too expensive. If I had divided each of the frozen containers in half, I would have been okay, but I would have been hungry. I planned out my meals carefully, counting pennies. I had the three days planned out and was feeling good.
Until I ate lunch on the first day. Spaghetti. I was hungry long before dinner, which was strange because this is a common meal for me. I guess the more you think about food the more hungry you feel. Oh well, dinner came soon enough. Two slices of bread, two tablespoon peanut butter, ten carrots and sixty-five cents worth of salad. Don't forget to count the dressing too. I was hungry, but that made sense because I had budgeted some wiggle room for snacks. Problem was, I didn't think to bring any. There is a vending machine at work but everything in it would have put me over my budget. Snacks would have to wait until I could pick up some Ramen on the way home at 9:00. Ten cents. Piece of cake.
Strangely enough I must have caught my manager coming off of his break because he held out a cookie and said, "Want a cookie?" I accepted it without thinking but then reconsidered. Of course if someone was actually starving they would accept this gift without calculating how much it cost, but the point of the exercise was to live like the other half lives, not to see how much free food I could acquire. How much does a cookie cost anyways? I figured it was probably less than the forty-five cents I had left for the day and so I ate it, but I was more grateful for that cookie at that moment than I thought possible.
I went to bed hungry. Why is it that on any normal day a pb&j with carrots and a salad would have been just fine but the day that you are told you cannot have anything else is the day that you are suddenly obsessed with food? In the morning I decided to skip breakfast so that I could have more food for lunch. I've never done that before. Okay well, I do every year for Thanksgiving I suppose, but that's only so I can be even more of a glutton by the time the turkey gets done. I've never had to decide whether or not eating this food now would be better or skipping this meal so the next one could perhaps be big enough to be satisfying. Reality check #1.
I became more and more aware of what other people have to go through when each meal became less and less satisfying. Its one thing to have one meal that is slightly too small, but every meal? That is something I've never experienced. I've fasted before and so I've been so hungry that you can't quite see straight and your head begins to hurt, but to feel that way after three days where I could still eat, just not enough? I never imagined I'd feel that way. And then when Thursday rolled around and I could eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted I realized just how spoiled I am. The people who have to live on less than three dollars a day don't have any clue when or if their hunger will ever end. They don't always know when their next meal will be and they would be willing to bet their life that it won't be satisfying. I was counting down the meals to Thursday while they are just trying to find something to eat today.
I don't really know how to end this post, only to say that if you want an idea what many other people go through, you should try this challenge. Just remember though, much of the world lives on even less. Can you believe it? Feel spoiled yet?
Monday, October 17, 2011
Action vs. Inaction.
Action vs. Inaction. That's a question that I struggle with a lot. Most of the time in my life I don't come to a fork in the road and have to choose between one direction or another, most of the time I have the choice to stay on this current path or turn off. Does that make sense? Sometimes I've hit that first option, where things cannot stay the same and you have a pair or list of choices to make. Graduating college was one of those. I could not continue doing what I was doing. I had to leave. Continuing down that road was not an option. Even if I had chosen to continue my education right then and there, things would have looked very different.
But usually I find that this is not the case. An opportunity comes up in life, or I have the chance to create an opportunity for myself and I have to decide; continue doing what I am doing? Or chose this other thing? Usually, the easy route is to do nothing. A missions trip opportunity comes up? Probably totally worth it to go, but definitely easier to stay. Potential new job? Still easier to stay, even if you hate it. Less effort, less learning curve.
Now, those two examples are probably bad because the way that I colored them. I made it seem like the action was more beneficial than the inaction. In those examples any excuses you come up with to remain inactive are just that, excuses. But right now I am struggling with some decisions that are not so cut and dry. Not to me, not to anyone whose advice I've sought on this. Can't you people just tell me what to do? For example, I am trying to decide whether to talk to a friend about something. If I say something, I can never take those words back and words get me in trouble. A lot. In fact I've already had to apologize once today for something I've said and I've only talked to two people so far. So do I keep my mouth shut and continue going crazy or say something and make the whole thing blow up in my face? In different situations, I've done both, and neither actually went well.
Or what about when following your dreams looks so good and wonderful and you have a million images of motivational posters of people on top of Mt.Everest cycling through your head but then when you sit down and do the math, it turns out that the dream may just be next to impossible. Is it really worth it in the end? Is it even possible?
I make, or fail to make, a lot of decisions in my life based on fear. Which of these options is less scary? Which is more prudent? It causes a lot of people to call me wise. Little did they know that if you always act on your fears and blow it off as nonchalance, it appears to be wisdom. Its not too hard to fake. And its not always a horrible way to live life. I am alive with never a broken bone because I've never actually acted on my dream to jump off our third floor balcony into the bank of snow below. But it can be a boring way to live life. And not always the best. And I'm tired of making decisions based on fear. So incredibly fed up with it. But I still want to be wise. How do I do that? Is it wise to take a very scary leap and really, really hope that God catches me? Or is it more wise to be shrewd? Shrewd with my money, with my words, with my actions? I know the answer cannot be found in the information I've given, or possibly even in the information I have but these are the things I wrestle with.
The thing that is so difficult about inaction vs. action decisions is that you can usually put off the decision for a long time. You can unintentionally make a decision by refusing to make a decision and not even notice that you're doing it. One of my dilemmas does not need an answer for several months yet. If I choose to act, I cannot act for some time so perhaps I should just delay the question until it needs an answer. I am certain, however, that the other has a timeline, that there is perfect timing and imperfect timing with this one. I just don't know what it is.
So if you're the praying type and you happen to pray for me at all, pray that I have the wisdom to know what to do and the courage to act on it.
But usually I find that this is not the case. An opportunity comes up in life, or I have the chance to create an opportunity for myself and I have to decide; continue doing what I am doing? Or chose this other thing? Usually, the easy route is to do nothing. A missions trip opportunity comes up? Probably totally worth it to go, but definitely easier to stay. Potential new job? Still easier to stay, even if you hate it. Less effort, less learning curve.
Now, those two examples are probably bad because the way that I colored them. I made it seem like the action was more beneficial than the inaction. In those examples any excuses you come up with to remain inactive are just that, excuses. But right now I am struggling with some decisions that are not so cut and dry. Not to me, not to anyone whose advice I've sought on this. Can't you people just tell me what to do? For example, I am trying to decide whether to talk to a friend about something. If I say something, I can never take those words back and words get me in trouble. A lot. In fact I've already had to apologize once today for something I've said and I've only talked to two people so far. So do I keep my mouth shut and continue going crazy or say something and make the whole thing blow up in my face? In different situations, I've done both, and neither actually went well.
Or what about when following your dreams looks so good and wonderful and you have a million images of motivational posters of people on top of Mt.Everest cycling through your head but then when you sit down and do the math, it turns out that the dream may just be next to impossible. Is it really worth it in the end? Is it even possible?
I make, or fail to make, a lot of decisions in my life based on fear. Which of these options is less scary? Which is more prudent? It causes a lot of people to call me wise. Little did they know that if you always act on your fears and blow it off as nonchalance, it appears to be wisdom. Its not too hard to fake. And its not always a horrible way to live life. I am alive with never a broken bone because I've never actually acted on my dream to jump off our third floor balcony into the bank of snow below. But it can be a boring way to live life. And not always the best. And I'm tired of making decisions based on fear. So incredibly fed up with it. But I still want to be wise. How do I do that? Is it wise to take a very scary leap and really, really hope that God catches me? Or is it more wise to be shrewd? Shrewd with my money, with my words, with my actions? I know the answer cannot be found in the information I've given, or possibly even in the information I have but these are the things I wrestle with.
The thing that is so difficult about inaction vs. action decisions is that you can usually put off the decision for a long time. You can unintentionally make a decision by refusing to make a decision and not even notice that you're doing it. One of my dilemmas does not need an answer for several months yet. If I choose to act, I cannot act for some time so perhaps I should just delay the question until it needs an answer. I am certain, however, that the other has a timeline, that there is perfect timing and imperfect timing with this one. I just don't know what it is.
So if you're the praying type and you happen to pray for me at all, pray that I have the wisdom to know what to do and the courage to act on it.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
This place is holy ground.
I know what you may be thinking. "That looks like an old train bridge. It doesn't appear to be holy at all. And its not even ground. In fact you aren't even suspended above ground. That's water, that is. And please don't tell me that you actually walk on that thing." You would have a point but the truth is you would be wrong. This is holy ground. This is where heaven meets earth and God talks to his people. Or at least talks to me. And the sun always, always shines here.
This sanctuary was discovered by accident. One day I followed an old set of train tracks. It is more difficult than you might expect because railroad ties are not spaced evenly apart, or at least these are not, and walking the rail takes more coordination than I have the patience for. As you take each, uneven step with care, the surroundings seem to slip away and the journey to the holy place begins. Even in the midst of a park with baseball diamonds near, something feels different.
Soon you come to a tunnel. Its an underpass, really, and you can hear the cars pass overhead. The metal walls and ceiling reflect the sound of your steps back to you and the tracks begin to sink into the mud. At the far end of the tunnel trees and bushes seem to block your path until you spot the narrow footpath into the brush. You realize that you are not the only pilgrim who has traveled this way. As you step into the bushes you feel as though you have stepped into another world. The tracks have all but disappeared and the ground falls away on either side of you.
It seems that every step becomes more and more overgrown and difficult to navigate. Several times trees have grown up in the path and you are forced to circle around. Finally you pass one last set of trees and it lies before you. The bridge. It is a place of peace, a place of rest, a place to commune with the creator. It is not so far secluded that you cannot hear the cars on the road you walked under, but theirs sounds are muffled and distant. Fish swim the water beneath your feet and deer occasionally come for a drink. It is a place of stillness. The air is fresh and each breath is full and begins to calm the pitter-patter of a rabbit-heart.
There was something about this place today. Something so much more significant than it ever had been. Perhaps because I came here, alone, with the sole purpose of prayer. I prepared my heart to meet with God on the way and by the time I reached the bridge, I felt the need to remove my shoes and feel the sun-warmed planks beneath my feet because this was holy ground. Too often I talk with God without preparation and it seems rushed, unsatisfying. Today was slow and as I stood up to leave, I felt filled. I prayed for my church and our building; for my future and the decisions I need to make; for babies recently born and those still on the way; for relationships and guidance. I got no answers, but I did find peace, and a little Vitamin D, and that is enough for me.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Friendship
I think that one of the hardest things about leaving college was the lack of deep friendships here. I didn't realize it at first because I was always surrounded by such great people and because I still had my roommate, but the truth was that no matter how much I liked my new friends or how much they liked me, we didn't share a history. We might have shared interests, or hobbies, or enjoying the company of each other, but we didn't really know what the other had been through. We had never seen the other truly hurting, nor did we know what made the other deliriously happy. For a time all these friendships were endlessly good, but lacked a certain depth.
In school, this depth came quickly. When you see each other daily, it doesn't take long to get to know each other. When you feel like you miss someone because you didn't run into them for several hours one day, you quickly learn to value them. When you live down the hall or across the pond from them, you learn to forget about the fights and forgive easily. When you eat lunch in the same place, with the same people, every day, you begin to consider them family. All this happens quickly. Before the shininess of a new friendship wears off, the roots of a deep, meaningful relationship have been set. Not so much in what we like to call the "real world." In this world outside of dorm life, things take longer. Sometimes the excitement of the newness wears off before unconditional trust kicks in. In that gap is where forever friends are won or lost. Its harder to get past this point, and lonelier.
This weekend, however, I was reminded of something. I know some great people. And the great part about them is that I have realized that two years have passed and these friendships have gone deep. I feel a sense of family-ness when I am around them, just like in college. But unlike college, I also have ample opportunity to meet new people constantly. The trip I went on this weekend had every stage of friendship imaginable. My roommates, who I trust completely. Friends I've known longer that two years, but only since moving here have become close. Two year old friends who have become brothers and sisters. One-year old friends who have passed the shallow-friend stage. Months old friends who are a delight to be around. Even a brand new friend who I met as we loaded the cars to leave. My grandpa had the chance to meet these people and kept telling me what an awesome group of friends I have. I have to admit that I agree completely.
So thank you to all my friends. Whether you went on this trip or not, or if you are a stage 1 friend or a stage 47 friend, thank you. You make my life so much richer and more wonderful and I look forward to seeing where our friendship will take us.
In school, this depth came quickly. When you see each other daily, it doesn't take long to get to know each other. When you feel like you miss someone because you didn't run into them for several hours one day, you quickly learn to value them. When you live down the hall or across the pond from them, you learn to forget about the fights and forgive easily. When you eat lunch in the same place, with the same people, every day, you begin to consider them family. All this happens quickly. Before the shininess of a new friendship wears off, the roots of a deep, meaningful relationship have been set. Not so much in what we like to call the "real world." In this world outside of dorm life, things take longer. Sometimes the excitement of the newness wears off before unconditional trust kicks in. In that gap is where forever friends are won or lost. Its harder to get past this point, and lonelier.
This weekend, however, I was reminded of something. I know some great people. And the great part about them is that I have realized that two years have passed and these friendships have gone deep. I feel a sense of family-ness when I am around them, just like in college. But unlike college, I also have ample opportunity to meet new people constantly. The trip I went on this weekend had every stage of friendship imaginable. My roommates, who I trust completely. Friends I've known longer that two years, but only since moving here have become close. Two year old friends who have become brothers and sisters. One-year old friends who have passed the shallow-friend stage. Months old friends who are a delight to be around. Even a brand new friend who I met as we loaded the cars to leave. My grandpa had the chance to meet these people and kept telling me what an awesome group of friends I have. I have to admit that I agree completely.
So thank you to all my friends. Whether you went on this trip or not, or if you are a stage 1 friend or a stage 47 friend, thank you. You make my life so much richer and more wonderful and I look forward to seeing where our friendship will take us.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Strange Day
Today was a weird day. I woke up this morning wondering why my alarm was going off on a snow day. That's right, I thought it was a snow day. As I woke up, I realized that I had been dreaming that I was at home and my mom and I were cleaning out my room on our surprise snow day off.
I got to work and felt strangely energetic for that time of morning. It probably had to do with the free pop we currently have in our break room. So much caffeine is surging through my veins right now. I worked on getting freight put out and apparently was having so much fun that before I know it I look at my watch and realize that its 2:00 PM and I was supposed to go on break half an hour before. I never miss break. Weird I tell you.
And then it got really slow and so the last two hours went so much slower than the first several. And when I went outside it was 86 degrees. I had a jacket on coming into the store and was sweating on the way home.
Okay, so three weird things happened and it wasn't a super weird day after all. I just wanted to tell you that I dreamed it was a snow day when the high nearly hit 90. In September. In South Dakota.
Oh, and we also found one of these at the store today:
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
So its midnight and I should be getting to bed if I want to try to maintain some sort of normal sleep pattern, but when the urge to write comes, it is not wise to let it go to waste. And here I am.
I just read an article. And I mean just. Maybe thirty minutes ago, tops. So my thoughts may be convoluted and not quite there yet, but here goes nothing.
This article was in Relevant magazine. (someone with better English skills remind me, are magazine titles italicized or underlined? Or maybe neither. I forget. Italicized it is.) It was an article about "How to prepare for your dream job without quitting your day job." Or something like that. Quotes are not exact. Too late to go and look them up. Sleep beckons.
Anywho... this article discussed the challenges that we face when we think about, dream about, or go for, our dream job, our One Thing. The article ended with the point that we often let the voices talk us out of doing what we dream of doing. Now, everyone has voices, most have negative voices. Some people listen to these voices, some don't. So I'm not saying I don't have these voices. I'm not even saying that I don't listen to these voices, because sometimes these voices win. Especially the voice that says, "Why quit a job you are good at to pursue something you could fail at? Why throw success away for a dream?" What I'm saying about these particular voices is that I'm not quite there yet. Meaning, these voices are not what keeps me from doing what I dream of doing.
The point previous to this one talked about fear. The fear of failure, of not being good enough, of not being ready. (Also, this article said Ready is a myth. No one is ever really ready because in order to do something that you've never done before you, well, have to do something you've never done. Practice makes perfect but buying a guitar is the first step of practicing. And that guitar may end up being a waste of money because it sits gathering dust in your room. OR, you may end up learning that one song that you've been dying to learn and find yourself dancing with the guitar around the room singing slightly off key but you feel like you're in a rock band. But you never know until that beautiful Mitchell is yours. Worth every penny. Moving on now.)
Aren't you all lucky? I'm too tired to actually think through what I say before I type and so I'm writing like I think. It makes me afraid to ever look back at any of my college papers knowing how many of them were written this late at night. And back to the train of thought. Where were we? Ah, yes, Fear. Fear of failure, mostly. And again, this is something I do face. I'm afraid of going for that One Thing and ending up flat on my face in the mud as people point and laugh. But again, this is not what is holding me back. One day it might, but I haven't reached that door, that wall yet.
I realized, reading this article, that the thing holding me back is not simple fear. Fear is involved, but not yet fear of failure. I think I'm afraid I'll go for that One Thing and pursue it and get so invested in it that its pretty darn tough to back out and then realize that I don't really want to be that at all. The thing that is holding me back is that I don't know what the One Thing actually is for me. I'm 24 years old and I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. (As another side note, is it weird that I sometimes still refer to people at the "next stage in life" (read that, married with kids) as "adults," even if they aren't even older than me?) I think that if I knew without a shadow of a doubt what my One Thing was, I'd give up anything to get it. I think I just want someone to tell me, because despite the fact that a certain friend of mine insists that she loves the fact that I'm decisive, when it comes to this, I'm not decisive at all. I'm still a little lost.
Maybe its just like that guitar. I spent hard earned money on that guitar and on picks, strings, tuners, stands, lessons and countless other things. Maybe if I go for it, I'll end up letting it gather dust and "not-quite dirty enough for the hamper, not clean enough for the hanger" clothes. Or maybe I'll end up a rock star on stage. Even if the songs are cheesy, the stage tiny, and the audience third graders.
I think I'll take that chance.
I just read an article. And I mean just. Maybe thirty minutes ago, tops. So my thoughts may be convoluted and not quite there yet, but here goes nothing.
This article was in Relevant magazine. (someone with better English skills remind me, are magazine titles italicized or underlined? Or maybe neither. I forget. Italicized it is.) It was an article about "How to prepare for your dream job without quitting your day job." Or something like that. Quotes are not exact. Too late to go and look them up. Sleep beckons.
Anywho... this article discussed the challenges that we face when we think about, dream about, or go for, our dream job, our One Thing. The article ended with the point that we often let the voices talk us out of doing what we dream of doing. Now, everyone has voices, most have negative voices. Some people listen to these voices, some don't. So I'm not saying I don't have these voices. I'm not even saying that I don't listen to these voices, because sometimes these voices win. Especially the voice that says, "Why quit a job you are good at to pursue something you could fail at? Why throw success away for a dream?" What I'm saying about these particular voices is that I'm not quite there yet. Meaning, these voices are not what keeps me from doing what I dream of doing.
The point previous to this one talked about fear. The fear of failure, of not being good enough, of not being ready. (Also, this article said Ready is a myth. No one is ever really ready because in order to do something that you've never done before you, well, have to do something you've never done. Practice makes perfect but buying a guitar is the first step of practicing. And that guitar may end up being a waste of money because it sits gathering dust in your room. OR, you may end up learning that one song that you've been dying to learn and find yourself dancing with the guitar around the room singing slightly off key but you feel like you're in a rock band. But you never know until that beautiful Mitchell is yours. Worth every penny. Moving on now.)
Aren't you all lucky? I'm too tired to actually think through what I say before I type and so I'm writing like I think. It makes me afraid to ever look back at any of my college papers knowing how many of them were written this late at night. And back to the train of thought. Where were we? Ah, yes, Fear. Fear of failure, mostly. And again, this is something I do face. I'm afraid of going for that One Thing and ending up flat on my face in the mud as people point and laugh. But again, this is not what is holding me back. One day it might, but I haven't reached that door, that wall yet.
I realized, reading this article, that the thing holding me back is not simple fear. Fear is involved, but not yet fear of failure. I think I'm afraid I'll go for that One Thing and pursue it and get so invested in it that its pretty darn tough to back out and then realize that I don't really want to be that at all. The thing that is holding me back is that I don't know what the One Thing actually is for me. I'm 24 years old and I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. (As another side note, is it weird that I sometimes still refer to people at the "next stage in life" (read that, married with kids) as "adults," even if they aren't even older than me?) I think that if I knew without a shadow of a doubt what my One Thing was, I'd give up anything to get it. I think I just want someone to tell me, because despite the fact that a certain friend of mine insists that she loves the fact that I'm decisive, when it comes to this, I'm not decisive at all. I'm still a little lost.
Maybe its just like that guitar. I spent hard earned money on that guitar and on picks, strings, tuners, stands, lessons and countless other things. Maybe if I go for it, I'll end up letting it gather dust and "not-quite dirty enough for the hamper, not clean enough for the hanger" clothes. Or maybe I'll end up a rock star on stage. Even if the songs are cheesy, the stage tiny, and the audience third graders.
I think I'll take that chance.
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