I have been living in Chattanooga for almost a month now. I am working long hours, budgeting my time, pretending to budget my money, and the purple dye that graced my hair during the bliss of summer has almost completely faded. It is so strange to be a functioning adult who is worried about car troubles, insurance, and following plans. People all around me are studying at school and making lofty statements about the adventures they're going to have after they graduate and I'm like "Oh yeah, I remember that." I can hear younger me saying "I'm never going to move back home" or "I'm not looking to ever go back to Chattanooga."
When I was a teenager, I would hang my hammock up at the Riverpark almost everyday. While listening to the water move, I would stare up at the tall pines and wish to be like them. I thought that success and beauty looked like those trees: tall, strong, and evergreen. Imagine my dismay when I did not ever grow taller than 5'2", stopped exercising, and faced some particularly sad times.
Humans are not pine trees. They are fruit trees. They grow however tall they need to be, they face seasons, and some of their branches break under the pressure of living. What is supremely lovely about this? Sometimes the branches of a healthy fruit tree are so laden with blooms and sweet things that they hang low-so low to the ground that they can see their beginning.
The reality is, I'm here in Chattanooga and I'm living at my parent's house. I am "getting back to my roots," as they say. However, through running familiar trails, driving old roads, and seeing those friendly mountains, I have been brought tremendous joy. My fruits and blooms have brought me to this place again. I get to spend a prosperous and lush season here, all the while resting in the hope of future growth.
lost in an uncharted sea.
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Saturday, June 6, 2015
Begin again
Between a crowded dining hall and monsoon-like rain, the last couple weeks have been unique. I will do my best to describe them concisely:
The week I spent in Beaufort was probably one of the most joyful weeks of my relationship with David. The beach was beautiful and many smiles (and macarons) were had. We walked the southern gothic streets of Savannah, people-watched at Hilton Head, and ate delicious food by the river. So many sweet conversations happened. Honestly, it was just fun to really spend time with my best friend. Driving away was the hardest because this is summer number three of long distance for us.
I pulled up to Cedar Lake Camp feeling jittery. The stars were perfect, the evening air was chilled, and some of the best people were gathered around a fire. I realized then that this summer would be a new experience. Police Camp had an incredible amount of campers and I spent more time in the camp kitchen than ever. The loud, stressful days gave me pause and when I drove towards Chattanooga friday night, I really wasn't sure if being at camp was a good choice for me.
Last saturday, I helped my brother film a vietnamese wedding. The couple was beautiful and I hope that they are enjoying being newlyweds...However, Jonathan and I couldn't understand what was going on the majority of the day. We also ate some crazy stuff.
When I returned to camp on sunday, I was exhausted. I could not have been less ready for other staff to get there. A semi-quiet afternoon with Hannah at Common Grounds helped calm my spirit. The week was restful and buzzed with anticipation. Early morning runs with Hannah, quiet talks with friends, getting to edit a semester's worth of poetry, and a few days of cold rain created a stillness in me that I have craved since last year. I received a package from David on the day of his surgery and fell a little bit more in love with him as I ate pretty purple macarons he made himself. The training week concluded with prayer, worship, and more prayer on the porch.
I get my first cabin of the summer tomorrow and I'm staying in the first cabin I ever stayed in (five years ago). In spite of the symmetry of being in Big Elk and having 11-12 year old girls, this summer is feeling like a new start.
The week I spent in Beaufort was probably one of the most joyful weeks of my relationship with David. The beach was beautiful and many smiles (and macarons) were had. We walked the southern gothic streets of Savannah, people-watched at Hilton Head, and ate delicious food by the river. So many sweet conversations happened. Honestly, it was just fun to really spend time with my best friend. Driving away was the hardest because this is summer number three of long distance for us.
I pulled up to Cedar Lake Camp feeling jittery. The stars were perfect, the evening air was chilled, and some of the best people were gathered around a fire. I realized then that this summer would be a new experience. Police Camp had an incredible amount of campers and I spent more time in the camp kitchen than ever. The loud, stressful days gave me pause and when I drove towards Chattanooga friday night, I really wasn't sure if being at camp was a good choice for me.
Last saturday, I helped my brother film a vietnamese wedding. The couple was beautiful and I hope that they are enjoying being newlyweds...However, Jonathan and I couldn't understand what was going on the majority of the day. We also ate some crazy stuff.
When I returned to camp on sunday, I was exhausted. I could not have been less ready for other staff to get there. A semi-quiet afternoon with Hannah at Common Grounds helped calm my spirit. The week was restful and buzzed with anticipation. Early morning runs with Hannah, quiet talks with friends, getting to edit a semester's worth of poetry, and a few days of cold rain created a stillness in me that I have craved since last year. I received a package from David on the day of his surgery and fell a little bit more in love with him as I ate pretty purple macarons he made himself. The training week concluded with prayer, worship, and more prayer on the porch.
I get my first cabin of the summer tomorrow and I'm staying in the first cabin I ever stayed in (five years ago). In spite of the symmetry of being in Big Elk and having 11-12 year old girls, this summer is feeling like a new start.
Thursday, May 14, 2015
December 2014-May 2015: a synopsis
This site has been comatose since last fall and there are so many reasons for that, but I am too hungry right now to list them. I figure I should recap this year because in a couple weeks, this page will be my main communication with the outside world:
December began with the most involved art show and ended with the weirdest celebration of New Year's Eve. I graduated and did not feel that much more accomplished as I walked across a little stage in a robe plagued with static cling. I celebrated Christmas at home and moved out of my trusty little basement apartment. Somedays, I still miss The Den. Three camp friends and I counted down to what we thought was midnight in the car after having a drink and appetizers at a random pizza place in Hixson (of all places). We crossed into a different time zone halfway up the mountain, so when we looked at our cell phones, they said 11:00.
January started with a trip to Cedar Lake Camp and ended with me in Nashville almost half-adjusted to my new life. I packed my car with my things and drove to the house of the parents of someone I hadn't seen in nearly two years. Needless to say, I was nervous and awkward during my first days in the Hanson house. I was also nervous and awkward during my first day of interning with Humanities Tennessee, but I don't think anyone noticed. I got lost a lot this month.
By February, I had gotten a job working as a barista at Atmalogy and kind of knew what I was doing at my internship. "Icemaggedon" happened during this month too, so lots of days were spent doing yoga with Lauren and her black cat fella. I celebrated most of my birthday at work, but mama Sue and Lauren threw me a taco party when I got home. Age twenty-two was well-honored with margaritas and the Bachelor. Lots of driving happened in February, because David and I met halfway in little towns and sat up all night in a Waffle House.
March had a rocky start. David got hurt and I ran a half marathon alone. In spite of ruined plans, tears, and crutches, He and I were able to celebrate our two-year date-iversary in Asheville. By this time, I had started visiting coffee shops around Nashville and documenting them with little sketches (these will be shared and written about in due time). The end of March brought sunshine and friends with it. David visited and the Big Hero 6 crew was established. I don't know how I ended up being Aunt Cass, but it fits.
April was poetry month, so I decided to write a poem everyday (I almost succeeded). David and I went to the Frist on his birthday and so David crutched around saying "pip-pip." I met Robert Morgan, Rodney Jones, and Jane Hirshfield in one weekend and spent the rest of the week thinking of smart things I could have said to them. Before I knew it, I had my last day at Atmalogy and at Humanities Tennessee. Margaret Renkl (the editor at Chapter16) presented me with a gift on my last morning with her. Her inscription in the book is as inspiring as the book itself. I'm still so amazed at how great it was to work with her and the exceptional people at Humanities Tennessee.
May is blurring by quickly. So far, I've packed, moved, unpacked, organized, separated, and repacked. Adventures ahead include: Nashville, visiting David, and settling down for the summer at Cedar Lake Camp. I currently don't know anything for sure past August, but that's just fine with me.
There you have it, the last five months in six hundred words.
December began with the most involved art show and ended with the weirdest celebration of New Year's Eve. I graduated and did not feel that much more accomplished as I walked across a little stage in a robe plagued with static cling. I celebrated Christmas at home and moved out of my trusty little basement apartment. Somedays, I still miss The Den. Three camp friends and I counted down to what we thought was midnight in the car after having a drink and appetizers at a random pizza place in Hixson (of all places). We crossed into a different time zone halfway up the mountain, so when we looked at our cell phones, they said 11:00.
January started with a trip to Cedar Lake Camp and ended with me in Nashville almost half-adjusted to my new life. I packed my car with my things and drove to the house of the parents of someone I hadn't seen in nearly two years. Needless to say, I was nervous and awkward during my first days in the Hanson house. I was also nervous and awkward during my first day of interning with Humanities Tennessee, but I don't think anyone noticed. I got lost a lot this month.
By February, I had gotten a job working as a barista at Atmalogy and kind of knew what I was doing at my internship. "Icemaggedon" happened during this month too, so lots of days were spent doing yoga with Lauren and her black cat fella. I celebrated most of my birthday at work, but mama Sue and Lauren threw me a taco party when I got home. Age twenty-two was well-honored with margaritas and the Bachelor. Lots of driving happened in February, because David and I met halfway in little towns and sat up all night in a Waffle House.
March had a rocky start. David got hurt and I ran a half marathon alone. In spite of ruined plans, tears, and crutches, He and I were able to celebrate our two-year date-iversary in Asheville. By this time, I had started visiting coffee shops around Nashville and documenting them with little sketches (these will be shared and written about in due time). The end of March brought sunshine and friends with it. David visited and the Big Hero 6 crew was established. I don't know how I ended up being Aunt Cass, but it fits.
April was poetry month, so I decided to write a poem everyday (I almost succeeded). David and I went to the Frist on his birthday and so David crutched around saying "pip-pip." I met Robert Morgan, Rodney Jones, and Jane Hirshfield in one weekend and spent the rest of the week thinking of smart things I could have said to them. Before I knew it, I had my last day at Atmalogy and at Humanities Tennessee. Margaret Renkl (the editor at Chapter16) presented me with a gift on my last morning with her. Her inscription in the book is as inspiring as the book itself. I'm still so amazed at how great it was to work with her and the exceptional people at Humanities Tennessee.
May is blurring by quickly. So far, I've packed, moved, unpacked, organized, separated, and repacked. Adventures ahead include: Nashville, visiting David, and settling down for the summer at Cedar Lake Camp. I currently don't know anything for sure past August, but that's just fine with me.
There you have it, the last five months in six hundred words.
Friday, November 14, 2014
life-iversary
I'm already running late for my class, so I'll make this quick.
It is sometimes unsettling how ironic life can be. With all the stress of my show (that is a whole separate story) and not getting sleep, I completely ignored the most thoughtful day of the year.
Usually, on the first weekend or so of November, I take a day to pray and thank God for my life. I tend to write something on that day as well. I guess this is my belated thoughtful day.
It is sometimes unsettling how ironic life can be. With all the stress of my show (that is a whole separate story) and not getting sleep, I completely ignored the most thoughtful day of the year.
Usually, on the first weekend or so of November, I take a day to pray and thank God for my life. I tend to write something on that day as well. I guess this is my belated thoughtful day.
I have grappled with death for most of my young life. The comfort of it allures me and the endless pressure of being alive exhausts me. A few years ago, near the first weekend of November, I was ready. I was selfish and wanting to be done. But I was stopped. Not by a fire, not by a storm, not by a wind or an earthquake. I was stopped by a gentle whisper. He whispered "Live" and breathed His peace into me.
Last weekend, I had the pleasure of putting up an installation centering around the idea of abundance and human reaction to overgrowth. It explored how too much of something and living life trying to be in control often leads to extinguishing joy. In hindsight, it makes so much sense that would be on my "life-iversary." I tried to control my life and it almost led me straight to death.
I want to encourage you to live with open hands. Receive the love, blessings, and peace that come from knowing Jesus. Life will not be easy to live. However, you will have a hope to hold on to.
And that will make all the difference.
I want to encourage you to live with open hands. Receive the love, blessings, and peace that come from knowing Jesus. Life will not be easy to live. However, you will have a hope to hold on to.
And that will make all the difference.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Psalm 42
for vthe living God.
while they say to me all the day long,
how I would go with the throng
a multitude keeping festival.
Why are you cast down, O my soul,
fHope in God; for I shall again praise him,
from the land of Jordan and of iHermon,
Deep calls to deep
all your breakers and your waves
Why do I go mourning
while they say to me all the day long,
Why are you cast down, O my soul,
While making coffee this morning, I listened to a praise song built around Psalm 42 . Suddenly, feelings and memories from 2012 came back to me. That Psalm meant so much to me then. In fact, it was so relevant to my life that I wrote this post. Although I am at such a different place than I was then, the Psalm is still so relevant. I became sad last night thinking about how I'm not going to be a student anymore. I'm by no means terrified of the future or what is to come. I think I grew sad because I am leaving a unique time that has been so littered with beautiful things.
It is a little cliché to compare the academic journey to a storm, but I am. So many times, I felt the "breakers and waves" crash over me with late nights, early mornings, broken sculptures, failed attempts, missing classes, and lots of crying. So many times, professors, classmates, and friends have asked me "where is your God?" The panic has set in and my soul has been cast down.
Even this week, as the shore became nearer, I asked "God, why this storm?"
Psalm 42 told me why today.
My wins and accomplishments have been blessings.
My losses have proved that I am only satisfied in my Lord.
In closing, I want to encourage you. God is not only the director of storms. He is loving on you during the day, and singing to you at night. He remembers you and He saves you. He is with you in the deep.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
a response.
in light of Robin Williams's recent suicide, i guess i have some thoughts to throw into the large sea of opinions being shared on social media. i don't have much to say about the actor himself that hasn't been said. he was a brilliant man who played some of my favorite characters in my favorite movies (everyone should watch Good Will Hunting and Dead Poet's Society) (i mean everyone) (really, go do it).
however, as a person who has first hand experience with depression, anxiety, etc. it pains me to read all the misguided remarks about his death. there are people glorifying his suicide and there are people criticizing it. those extreme opinions are equally as troubling to me. the thing we're discussing is not some abstract condition. it is a hunger for death and an abandonment of life that has been in our hearts since the beginning. literally everyone is born with it. it can be eased by medication (maybe) and counseling (usually) but can only be cured by a healer so beyond this world. even that perfect treatment cannot be fully completed on earth. this issue is complicated, nuanced, and as old as man, so i guess it's a little disheartening to read sweeping statements about it.
(i'm really inefficient at making transition statements...so imagine this is a witty and smooth introduction to my next thought)
the common mistake people make about Christians is that we are ignorant of the pain this world offers. the media portrays us as happy-go-lucky idiots or angry proselytizers. however, the most genuine believers i've ever met have been deeply in tune with the darkness of this world. the people who say (when reading about people like williams, plath, hemingway, etc.), "I don't understand how someone could do something like that," are commonly people who have turned away from spiritual things. as a Christian, i completely understand "how someone could do something like that" because i am encouraged by Scripture to live joyfully in light of pain. not in ignorance. God knows the task is daunting, and so He tells humanity repeatedly to "take courage" and "not to fear." He also reminds that the task is worthwhile. we were born empty and with the continuous ache of isolation. we have grown older and have striven for fulfillment only to repeatedly realize that we have been "striving after the wind." if you really do some thinking about the average life of a human, it's a hopeless situation. i truly believe that artists of all kinds are more prone to come face to face the vanity of life because their lives are dedicated to exploring the flawed human experience.
that said, it is so clear that there is hope. whether it is seen through the gorgeousness of words, nature, movement, or emotion-it is so clear that there is hope. God has been telling all of mankind this from the beginning.
so:
if you're not sure about where your heart is with God or if you're not sure He exists or if you're positive He exists but you hate Him or if you're positive He doesn't exist and you hate Him or if you think He might exist but you're too prideful to get to know Him,
stop doing those things and start searching. God is wanting to know you and wanting to be known. the hope that He offers is real, tangible hope. and holy crap it is good. like eating ice cream in july or snowy mountains in winter. except better than that. you are offered the opportunity of an abundant life. you are offered salvation from death. and you are offered the continuous companionship of Christ.
if you're a believer and you think you're sure about where your heart is with God, keep searching and realizing the amazing responsibility you have. isaiah 61 clearly states what we need to do and who we are. some of those tasks include: binding up the broken hearted, freeing the captives, and restoring devastations of previous generations. i mean, we're called to be the sidekick of the Savior of the world's heart (so cool). it's important to note part of binding up the broken-hearted is recognizing the fact that our hearts break. part of freeing the captives is knowing the nature of captivity. part of restoring devastations is observing the wreckage with empathy. we conquer, but we understand.
yes, i am so saddened by Robin's suicide. and yes, i want to do what i can to love others and encourage them (and myself) to turn away from death as the answer.
but really, i'm more interested in the enhancement of lives through the redemption of souls, not just the saving of them.
however, as a person who has first hand experience with depression, anxiety, etc. it pains me to read all the misguided remarks about his death. there are people glorifying his suicide and there are people criticizing it. those extreme opinions are equally as troubling to me. the thing we're discussing is not some abstract condition. it is a hunger for death and an abandonment of life that has been in our hearts since the beginning. literally everyone is born with it. it can be eased by medication (maybe) and counseling (usually) but can only be cured by a healer so beyond this world. even that perfect treatment cannot be fully completed on earth. this issue is complicated, nuanced, and as old as man, so i guess it's a little disheartening to read sweeping statements about it.
(i'm really inefficient at making transition statements...so imagine this is a witty and smooth introduction to my next thought)
the common mistake people make about Christians is that we are ignorant of the pain this world offers. the media portrays us as happy-go-lucky idiots or angry proselytizers. however, the most genuine believers i've ever met have been deeply in tune with the darkness of this world. the people who say (when reading about people like williams, plath, hemingway, etc.), "I don't understand how someone could do something like that," are commonly people who have turned away from spiritual things. as a Christian, i completely understand "how someone could do something like that" because i am encouraged by Scripture to live joyfully in light of pain. not in ignorance. God knows the task is daunting, and so He tells humanity repeatedly to "take courage" and "not to fear." He also reminds that the task is worthwhile. we were born empty and with the continuous ache of isolation. we have grown older and have striven for fulfillment only to repeatedly realize that we have been "striving after the wind." if you really do some thinking about the average life of a human, it's a hopeless situation. i truly believe that artists of all kinds are more prone to come face to face the vanity of life because their lives are dedicated to exploring the flawed human experience.
that said, it is so clear that there is hope. whether it is seen through the gorgeousness of words, nature, movement, or emotion-it is so clear that there is hope. God has been telling all of mankind this from the beginning.
so:
if you're not sure about where your heart is with God or if you're not sure He exists or if you're positive He exists but you hate Him or if you're positive He doesn't exist and you hate Him or if you think He might exist but you're too prideful to get to know Him,
stop doing those things and start searching. God is wanting to know you and wanting to be known. the hope that He offers is real, tangible hope. and holy crap it is good. like eating ice cream in july or snowy mountains in winter. except better than that. you are offered the opportunity of an abundant life. you are offered salvation from death. and you are offered the continuous companionship of Christ.
if you're a believer and you think you're sure about where your heart is with God, keep searching and realizing the amazing responsibility you have. isaiah 61 clearly states what we need to do and who we are. some of those tasks include: binding up the broken hearted, freeing the captives, and restoring devastations of previous generations. i mean, we're called to be the sidekick of the Savior of the world's heart (so cool). it's important to note part of binding up the broken-hearted is recognizing the fact that our hearts break. part of freeing the captives is knowing the nature of captivity. part of restoring devastations is observing the wreckage with empathy. we conquer, but we understand.
yes, i am so saddened by Robin's suicide. and yes, i want to do what i can to love others and encourage them (and myself) to turn away from death as the answer.
but really, i'm more interested in the enhancement of lives through the redemption of souls, not just the saving of them.
Thursday, July 31, 2014
(there's probably a better word for this)
it is kind of amazing how proud we can become of the people we love. don't get confused. it's not the sort of pride that puffs up our ego, though. it's the pride that only brings us humility.
(there's probably a better word for this feeling)
it seems like the more we love someone, the more we want to share the joy that we find in their wonderful attributes. if you ask me about my sister, i will smile as i tell of her growth and beauty. if you wanted me to share about what david's up to, i would probably not stop for a breath while telling you how much strength of character he has. if you were to mention my mom, i couldn't begin to tell you all the wonderful things she has done. there are so many other people in my life that i am immensely proud of.
but absolutely none of them compare to my Jesus.
something happened the other day that reminded me of how proud i was of Him. tuesday i was in the gym, sweating and whatnot. these days, i do not have much time for attending church and i do not have many people to fellowship with, so to temporarily (i want to emphasize the fact that this is very very temporary. i believe in the importance of the church and fellowship) replace those things, i listen to sermons/praise music almost constantly. my favorite place to do that is the gym because honestly, who doesn't get a little bored cycling/running/etc? anyway, i was cycling and listening to Travis Jones (if you haven't checked out Silverdale Saturday Nights podcast, you should) and he was sharing a story about his time in Africa. the story was essentially about how a young man came to faith in the midst of a muslim community. at the moment of his conversion, the people around him tried to intervene, but the young man was given the strength and focus to continue with his repentance and prayer. after hearing that story, my eyes began to grow misty.
before i knew it, tears were running slowly down my face. at first i thought i was crying because i was miserably hot and tired...but that wasn't the case. i was crying because i was so proud. as i heard about that young man, i thought to myself my Lord and Savior is astounding. He forgives our sins and enriches our lives. He is worth our suffering and praise and He deserves every single bit of it. at that moment in the gym, if you had seen me, you would have thought i was nuts. i was drenched in sweat, my hair was crazy, tears were on my face, and i was smiling.
i wanted to write about this on here because i am so proud. i am proud of my Redeemer and Friend. He absolutely never lets me down and He always fulfills His promises to me.
the amazing thing is that He is big enough to do that for me, you, and that young man somewhere in Africa.
so yeah, Jesus is King. and i like that.
(there's probably a better word for this feeling)
it seems like the more we love someone, the more we want to share the joy that we find in their wonderful attributes. if you ask me about my sister, i will smile as i tell of her growth and beauty. if you wanted me to share about what david's up to, i would probably not stop for a breath while telling you how much strength of character he has. if you were to mention my mom, i couldn't begin to tell you all the wonderful things she has done. there are so many other people in my life that i am immensely proud of.
but absolutely none of them compare to my Jesus.
something happened the other day that reminded me of how proud i was of Him. tuesday i was in the gym, sweating and whatnot. these days, i do not have much time for attending church and i do not have many people to fellowship with, so to temporarily (i want to emphasize the fact that this is very very temporary. i believe in the importance of the church and fellowship) replace those things, i listen to sermons/praise music almost constantly. my favorite place to do that is the gym because honestly, who doesn't get a little bored cycling/running/etc? anyway, i was cycling and listening to Travis Jones (if you haven't checked out Silverdale Saturday Nights podcast, you should) and he was sharing a story about his time in Africa. the story was essentially about how a young man came to faith in the midst of a muslim community. at the moment of his conversion, the people around him tried to intervene, but the young man was given the strength and focus to continue with his repentance and prayer. after hearing that story, my eyes began to grow misty.
before i knew it, tears were running slowly down my face. at first i thought i was crying because i was miserably hot and tired...but that wasn't the case. i was crying because i was so proud. as i heard about that young man, i thought to myself my Lord and Savior is astounding. He forgives our sins and enriches our lives. He is worth our suffering and praise and He deserves every single bit of it. at that moment in the gym, if you had seen me, you would have thought i was nuts. i was drenched in sweat, my hair was crazy, tears were on my face, and i was smiling.
i wanted to write about this on here because i am so proud. i am proud of my Redeemer and Friend. He absolutely never lets me down and He always fulfills His promises to me.
the amazing thing is that He is big enough to do that for me, you, and that young man somewhere in Africa.
so yeah, Jesus is King. and i like that.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
noiselessly patient
after a three day weekend (yes, i skipped two classes friday...no, i'm not sorry) and the longest nap i've had in a while, i feel like i'm ready to face the week and share a few thoughts.
while working a lot, going to school a lot, being long distance with my best friend (jen) and my boyfriend/bestfriend (david) a lot has been extremely grueling and time-consuming, i really don't feel the need to express my concerns about it. even on the absolute worst dismal days, i know it will pass.
and that's that.
honestly, my biggest concern right now is answering that daunting question "what the (insert word of choice here) am i doing with myself after i graduate?!"
i think how i feel about it can best be illustrated by this nice poem by none other than the unfocused, passionate, free-versing, american classic: walt whitman.
while working a lot, going to school a lot, being long distance with my best friend (jen) and my boyfriend/bestfriend (david) a lot has been extremely grueling and time-consuming, i really don't feel the need to express my concerns about it. even on the absolute worst dismal days, i know it will pass.
and that's that.
i think how i feel about it can best be illustrated by this nice poem by none other than the unfocused, passionate, free-versing, american classic: walt whitman.
| A NOISELESS, patient spider, | |
| I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated; | |
| Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding, | |
| It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself; | |
| Ever unreeling them—ever tirelessly speeding them. | 5 |
| And you, O my Soul, where you stand, | |
| Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space, | |
| Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,—seeking the spheres, to connect them; | |
| Till the bridge you will need, be form’d—till the ductile anchor hold; | |
| Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul. | 10 |
*side note: you need to read this out loud. "filament, filament, filament" and "gossamer" are perhaps the most delicious things to say.
anyway, i'm meeting tomorrow with my sweet, quiet-spirited poetry professor to get some advice on internships etc. i've been thinking about what i'm really wanting to do (post-graduating) all weekend. and well, i just keep coming up empty. i'm like the spider and the soul mentioned. i'm "ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing." it's interesting that my whole life i thought that i would know what's up by now. but man, i am clueless.
that said, i think it's important to be "noiselessly patient" during this time of transition. i think it's okay to be open to whatever may come. it's also important to realize that every decision is a determiner of my future. not only do the big ones matter, but (this part is really nice) because i have a God that is complex as well as caring, the decisions that seem meaningless are intricately integrated into His plan for me.
anyway, i'm meeting tomorrow with my sweet, quiet-spirited poetry professor to get some advice on internships etc. i've been thinking about what i'm really wanting to do (post-graduating) all weekend. and well, i just keep coming up empty. i'm like the spider and the soul mentioned. i'm "ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing." it's interesting that my whole life i thought that i would know what's up by now. but man, i am clueless.
that said, i think it's important to be "noiselessly patient" during this time of transition. i think it's okay to be open to whatever may come. it's also important to realize that every decision is a determiner of my future. not only do the big ones matter, but (this part is really nice) because i have a God that is complex as well as caring, the decisions that seem meaningless are intricately integrated into His plan for me.
this is why i'm making peace with being a noiseless, patient young woman who is casting her gossamer (man, that word) thread while i "explore the vacant, vast surrounding."
and that's that.
and that's that.
Friday, June 20, 2014
on summer,choices, and other things.
i thought this summer was going to be a relaxing summer.
oh how naive i was.
i literally had no idea what i was getting myself into when i started taking summer classes. i thought "oh i'm going to read and learn french and then have the rest of the day to do whatever i want!"...yeah that's not the case.
that especially became evident to me this week when i started at work. i mean, i am beyond happy about having a job (after applying to 30+different places...) it just means that i will have even less free time than before. that said, i think it's a really good summer to learn the value of hard work and cultivate my ability to make choices with my responsibilities and well-being in mind. because i work a morning job, i have to go to sleep earlier than i have in a long time. because i have papers to write, i have to find a place i can focus and get them done quickly (preferably a few days before the deadline...no procrastinating in the summer). because i have new french homework everyday, i have to make time for it everyday.
consequently, it's been interesting to see what "free time" looks like when you legitimately don't have any. i have begun to value gym time more and i love that after i shower, i have about thirty minutes where i just sit on the porch with the cat and breathe. being alone hasn't been as much as a concern as being healthy/happy. and honestly, i think that's a gift from God.
there's been a lot said about making choices. there have been whole books written about how the wrong choices can destroy your life or whatever. but i guess what i'm getting to see first-hand is how making right choices can bless your life. i really do have free will. i have to make the choice about all the busy aspects of my life. it is my call whether or not i'm going to make the right or wrong one. i am given complete freedom to make mistakes and i know that. but man, when i make the choice to go to bed, run another lap, learn concepts thoroughly, or wake up a little earlier for work so that i can have time with Jesus, the blessings are enough of an incentive to get me to keep going down that straight and narrow way.
so yeah, i guess this summer hasn't been relaxing. it really has been difficult thus far. but it's been peaceful. and that's enough for me.
oh how naive i was.
i literally had no idea what i was getting myself into when i started taking summer classes. i thought "oh i'm going to read and learn french and then have the rest of the day to do whatever i want!"...yeah that's not the case.
that especially became evident to me this week when i started at work. i mean, i am beyond happy about having a job (after applying to 30+different places...) it just means that i will have even less free time than before. that said, i think it's a really good summer to learn the value of hard work and cultivate my ability to make choices with my responsibilities and well-being in mind. because i work a morning job, i have to go to sleep earlier than i have in a long time. because i have papers to write, i have to find a place i can focus and get them done quickly (preferably a few days before the deadline...no procrastinating in the summer). because i have new french homework everyday, i have to make time for it everyday.
consequently, it's been interesting to see what "free time" looks like when you legitimately don't have any. i have begun to value gym time more and i love that after i shower, i have about thirty minutes where i just sit on the porch with the cat and breathe. being alone hasn't been as much as a concern as being healthy/happy. and honestly, i think that's a gift from God.
there's been a lot said about making choices. there have been whole books written about how the wrong choices can destroy your life or whatever. but i guess what i'm getting to see first-hand is how making right choices can bless your life. i really do have free will. i have to make the choice about all the busy aspects of my life. it is my call whether or not i'm going to make the right or wrong one. i am given complete freedom to make mistakes and i know that. but man, when i make the choice to go to bed, run another lap, learn concepts thoroughly, or wake up a little earlier for work so that i can have time with Jesus, the blessings are enough of an incentive to get me to keep going down that straight and narrow way.
so yeah, i guess this summer hasn't been relaxing. it really has been difficult thus far. but it's been peaceful. and that's enough for me.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
like a little wind
i am sitting in the willow tree on a tuesday without david. that has not happened in quite a while.
it is strange to realize that i am entering the very last "summer" of my life. obviously, summer will exist after i graduate. but it will be different. consequently, today i have been mulling over the nature of change.
it is strange to realize that i am entering the very last "summer" of my life. obviously, summer will exist after i graduate. but it will be different. consequently, today i have been mulling over the nature of change.
john steinbeck has this to say about change:
“men do change, and change comes like a little wind that ruffles the curtains at dawn, and it comes like the stealthy perfume of wildflowers hidden in the grass."
“men do change, and change comes like a little wind that ruffles the curtains at dawn, and it comes like the stealthy perfume of wildflowers hidden in the grass."
that is a near-perfect description of change. it is very 'neaky (as my little niece and nephew say). but it is also beautiful. this summer is a change. i am usually preparing to leave for camp right about now. then i spend the whole summer loving on children and sharing the Gospel and not sleeping enough. instead, right now i am working on homework and planning what to get when i go grocery shopping. it is difficult to accept that grocery shopping and homework is just as wonderful as being a camp counselor. but that's a part of why this summer is happening, i think.
i am learning that it is exciting to not be sure what my "task" is. it is exciting to learn that having joy and contentment is a choice that i have to make everyday. it is exciting to have so much predictability this summer. it is exciting to have free time. and it is exciting to be able to have time to process the changes as they become apparent.
Friday, April 25, 2014
notes on the notion of being fastened (in love).
i wrote this morning for the first time in months. i typed this out: "this has been the semester of things not working out." and then breathed a sigh.
that's not completely the truth. obviously there have been some joyful moments of smooth sailing and fun times.
but the majority of the time, it has been the case. papers, sculptures, classes, fun plans, seeing my family, and (most recently) wedding showers have just not been able to happen the way that i had hoped. sometimes that has been a good lesson of patience or submission to God's plan. sometimes it's only resulted crushing disappointment. i feel a little beaten at the close of this semester.
that said, a comforting truth has become quite real to me this week.
in the ever-popular hymn "come thou fount of every blessing," the author wrote these words:
praise the mount, i'm fixed upon it / mount of Thy redeeming love
as i said before, this semester-and really this year-has been a real doozy. it has left me spinning, straying, doubting, and pouting. i can openly acknowledge the fact that i have not been seeking Christ as i should. i have not felt His presence or heard His voice. but i am fixed upon the mount of His redeeming love.
the word "fixed" is defined as follows:
fixedfikst/adjective
1.fastened securely in position.
"a fixed iron ladder down the port side"
i am so wide-eyed and wild in this season. i am frightened and running any way i think is going to bring me peace. i have longed for my Father and have lost faith in the fact He longs for me.
my heart has stopped conversing with my head and my knowledge of His goodness is overshadowed with my own feeling of being abandoned.
and yet.
i am fixed upon a great mountain of mercy, life, and redeeming love.
i am fastened securely in a position that was specially made for me long ago.
i am His and there is nothing in the world that is going to change that.
although i am not in yet in a season of sweet communion with the Father, i am at a new level of peace.
i know for a fact that He cannot turn His back on me. even when i wander and attempt to leave the God i love, i am all the while fastened tightly to His heart.
that's not completely the truth. obviously there have been some joyful moments of smooth sailing and fun times.
but the majority of the time, it has been the case. papers, sculptures, classes, fun plans, seeing my family, and (most recently) wedding showers have just not been able to happen the way that i had hoped. sometimes that has been a good lesson of patience or submission to God's plan. sometimes it's only resulted crushing disappointment. i feel a little beaten at the close of this semester.
that said, a comforting truth has become quite real to me this week.
in the ever-popular hymn "come thou fount of every blessing," the author wrote these words:
praise the mount, i'm fixed upon it / mount of Thy redeeming love
as i said before, this semester-and really this year-has been a real doozy. it has left me spinning, straying, doubting, and pouting. i can openly acknowledge the fact that i have not been seeking Christ as i should. i have not felt His presence or heard His voice. but i am fixed upon the mount of His redeeming love.
the word "fixed" is defined as follows:
fixedfikst/adjective
1.fastened securely in position.
"a fixed iron ladder down the port side"
| synonyms: | fastened |
i am so wide-eyed and wild in this season. i am frightened and running any way i think is going to bring me peace. i have longed for my Father and have lost faith in the fact He longs for me.
my heart has stopped conversing with my head and my knowledge of His goodness is overshadowed with my own feeling of being abandoned.
and yet.
i am fixed upon a great mountain of mercy, life, and redeeming love.
i am fastened securely in a position that was specially made for me long ago.
i am His and there is nothing in the world that is going to change that.
although i am not in yet in a season of sweet communion with the Father, i am at a new level of peace.
i know for a fact that He cannot turn His back on me. even when i wander and attempt to leave the God i love, i am all the while fastened tightly to His heart.
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
april second.
bradford pear blossoms, daffodils, and those bushes with yellow flowers (that i can never remember the name of) hold such nostalgic thoughts within their petals and (in the case of the tree blossoms) musky scents: thoughts of running to my neighbors house, climbing pecan trees in texas, and endless biking trips around the neighborhood.
come april, everyone always writes that uplifting, but slightly trite post about spring. they write about the rebirth of the earth and nature's voice growing stronger. as i sit here, it seems so redundant to write about spring. but then again, there is a reason that there are millions of cliches surrounding that wished/prayed/longed-for season.
this winter, i have found my voice and my ideas waning into whispers and fleeting thoughts. life has been more difficult of a weight to carry and death has appeared like a sweet repose. continually, my eagerness to learn has mutated into a desire to get to graduation. my love for others has been muddied by my gross love of myself. even there, my love for myself has been muddied by lies and has been perverted to a strong dislike. what i'm trying to convey is the bleak darkness that has enveloped me. the snow has been beautiful and the white has appeared clean, but the lingering cold and the absence of sun has caused the happy parts of my life to collect dust.
and then came today. april second. a spring day.
the breeze and the warm sun has done my heart good. hearing nature's voice singing out amongst the trees and with the little birds has done my own voice good, for i want to join her. the vitamin d has done my body good. my thoughts remain quiet and feeble, and writing still is hard. but spring has just begun and little seedlings take so much time to grow.
come april, everyone always writes that uplifting, but slightly trite post about spring. they write about the rebirth of the earth and nature's voice growing stronger. as i sit here, it seems so redundant to write about spring. but then again, there is a reason that there are millions of cliches surrounding that wished/prayed/longed-for season.
this winter, i have found my voice and my ideas waning into whispers and fleeting thoughts. life has been more difficult of a weight to carry and death has appeared like a sweet repose. continually, my eagerness to learn has mutated into a desire to get to graduation. my love for others has been muddied by my gross love of myself. even there, my love for myself has been muddied by lies and has been perverted to a strong dislike. what i'm trying to convey is the bleak darkness that has enveloped me. the snow has been beautiful and the white has appeared clean, but the lingering cold and the absence of sun has caused the happy parts of my life to collect dust.
and then came today. april second. a spring day.
the breeze and the warm sun has done my heart good. hearing nature's voice singing out amongst the trees and with the little birds has done my own voice good, for i want to join her. the vitamin d has done my body good. my thoughts remain quiet and feeble, and writing still is hard. but spring has just begun and little seedlings take so much time to grow.
Monday, March 3, 2014
safety in silence.
i am a buyer of this lie that often crosses my mind:
"there is safety in silence"
it soars to the rafters of my head and wriggles its way down to my heart. this lie that says if i don't speak, write, or express, i will remain unharmed.
so far, this year has been a year of struggling to break the silence. i want so much to write, speak, or express how i felt when i found out my mom was in an emergency room six hours away from me. or how much my heart has been broken over my little sister. or how much i long to hear the still, small Voice. or how all i've been hearing instead are the loud, obnoxious, powerless voices that originate from my heart's deepest fears. this silence has grown like kudzu and wrapped itself around my mind until the words are trapped and lost in the vines.
i feel so ready for those words to "roar" out of me.
to crash onto the page, the paper, the surface, the atmosphere.
there is no safety in silence.
instead, silence is only the over-indulgence of my heart's deceptions and fears.
i know that to be true now.
the real challenge is to know what comes next.
i am so hurt and the prospect of further hurt-the possible coincidence of speaking,writing, expressing what's on my heart-is almost too much for my vulnerable self.
it is a tricky thing to believe silence is best. i feel like i am relearning how to speak.
"there is safety in silence"
it soars to the rafters of my head and wriggles its way down to my heart. this lie that says if i don't speak, write, or express, i will remain unharmed.
so far, this year has been a year of struggling to break the silence. i want so much to write, speak, or express how i felt when i found out my mom was in an emergency room six hours away from me. or how much my heart has been broken over my little sister. or how much i long to hear the still, small Voice. or how all i've been hearing instead are the loud, obnoxious, powerless voices that originate from my heart's deepest fears. this silence has grown like kudzu and wrapped itself around my mind until the words are trapped and lost in the vines.
i feel so ready for those words to "roar" out of me.
to crash onto the page, the paper, the surface, the atmosphere.
there is no safety in silence.
instead, silence is only the over-indulgence of my heart's deceptions and fears.
i know that to be true now.
the real challenge is to know what comes next.
i am so hurt and the prospect of further hurt-the possible coincidence of speaking,writing, expressing what's on my heart-is almost too much for my vulnerable self.
it is a tricky thing to believe silence is best. i feel like i am relearning how to speak.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
snow
i have not written in so long. maybe someday soon i'll be able to tell the story of why.
for now, i just want to talk about snow.
i am sitting in my little den and my fellow foxes are in the kitchen making cookies. there are paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. there is an incredible whiteness all around the trees and bushes outside. there is a candle burning and music playing. school was cancelled and all is well.
snow is such a friendly word. it is the equivalent to comfort and peace in my mind. i want my heart to really be white as snow. it is pure and unfettered in the way it falls. snowflakes don't know where they are going and no one cares. i think that's what i love best about snow. it is unassuming and simple and well-liked (unless you're driving...but that's not my point). i find i can relate to a snowflake right now. i can count on one hand the things i am sure of in this life: the people i love, the God who loves me, and the beautiful hope that gives me.
how i see my present and my future is much like how a snowflake falls. i am unsure one day to the next where i will be, how i will feel, how rested my eyes will look, if i will be sad, or if i'll remember to lock the door when i leave. it's terribly silly on that scale, and no one really minds. but this morning, while listening to a man with a funny voice lecture about abstract expressionism, i realized it is already almost february. i realized i will be twenty one in a few short weeks. i don't know where i'll be (for sure) this summer. i will be graduating within the year.
and i just don't know what i'm doing with all of those things. i am a little snowflake just drifting and it's kind of comforting.
for now, i just want to talk about snow.
i am sitting in my little den and my fellow foxes are in the kitchen making cookies. there are paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling. there is an incredible whiteness all around the trees and bushes outside. there is a candle burning and music playing. school was cancelled and all is well.
snow is such a friendly word. it is the equivalent to comfort and peace in my mind. i want my heart to really be white as snow. it is pure and unfettered in the way it falls. snowflakes don't know where they are going and no one cares. i think that's what i love best about snow. it is unassuming and simple and well-liked (unless you're driving...but that's not my point). i find i can relate to a snowflake right now. i can count on one hand the things i am sure of in this life: the people i love, the God who loves me, and the beautiful hope that gives me.
how i see my present and my future is much like how a snowflake falls. i am unsure one day to the next where i will be, how i will feel, how rested my eyes will look, if i will be sad, or if i'll remember to lock the door when i leave. it's terribly silly on that scale, and no one really minds. but this morning, while listening to a man with a funny voice lecture about abstract expressionism, i realized it is already almost february. i realized i will be twenty one in a few short weeks. i don't know where i'll be (for sure) this summer. i will be graduating within the year.
and i just don't know what i'm doing with all of those things. i am a little snowflake just drifting and it's kind of comforting.
Monday, December 23, 2013
christmas eve-eve
christmas eve-eve is my favorite day. i think i might even like it more than christmas day.
it's exciting and relaxing and full of anticipation and chaos and something about it is always perfect.
that aside, this christmas break has been a weird one. i have felt like more like a spectator than a participant. it's weird to be absent from my own home for a long enough time that it makes it strange to come back for more than a handful of days. i guess that is a part of growing up and such. but it's still weird. the weirdest thing about this christmas has been the lack of focus on Christ as a baby. as i have read and prayed and listened to prepare myself for the season, i have been drawn to the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ more than His birth. He became a human child to bring hope to all mankind.
and to die for all mankind.
so i rarely have complete thoughts. today it is worse than usual.
so to distract you from the disjointedness of this post, here is a list of things that i've been taught this christmas season:
my life is not my own
i am loved loved loved
family units are difficult but worth it
love takes work
love is a joy
friends are absolutely priceless
sometimes rest is more important than anything
i have a gentle Father tenderly telling me each day to wait for His Son's return
i am prone to wander
breathing is important
focusing on the root of the problem often soothes tension
we are broken broken broken people
christmas lights are beautiful
christmas music is tacky and perfect
good coffee made by my dad everyday is something i've missed
time is precious
"now" is precious
never ever be afraid to tell someone how much they're worth to you
never ever be afraid to tell someone how much they're worth to Jesus
that's about all.
happy christmas eve-eve.
it's exciting and relaxing and full of anticipation and chaos and something about it is always perfect.
that aside, this christmas break has been a weird one. i have felt like more like a spectator than a participant. it's weird to be absent from my own home for a long enough time that it makes it strange to come back for more than a handful of days. i guess that is a part of growing up and such. but it's still weird. the weirdest thing about this christmas has been the lack of focus on Christ as a baby. as i have read and prayed and listened to prepare myself for the season, i have been drawn to the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ more than His birth. He became a human child to bring hope to all mankind.
and to die for all mankind.
so i rarely have complete thoughts. today it is worse than usual.
so to distract you from the disjointedness of this post, here is a list of things that i've been taught this christmas season:
my life is not my own
i am loved loved loved
family units are difficult but worth it
love takes work
love is a joy
friends are absolutely priceless
sometimes rest is more important than anything
i have a gentle Father tenderly telling me each day to wait for His Son's return
i am prone to wander
breathing is important
focusing on the root of the problem often soothes tension
we are broken broken broken people
christmas lights are beautiful
christmas music is tacky and perfect
good coffee made by my dad everyday is something i've missed
time is precious
"now" is precious
never ever be afraid to tell someone how much they're worth to you
never ever be afraid to tell someone how much they're worth to Jesus
that's about all.
happy christmas eve-eve.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
protected
she just looked at the wall while she sat in the hallway. nothing mattered. nothing was happening. the walls were white just like the floor except the floor was not really white anymore because it had been walked on by lots of heavy boots all caked with mud and leaves and snow and dust and problems from the outside world. she still sat and looked. wanting nothing. caring for nothing. time ran by her with little feet and didn’t ever stop, not even to say hello or to slap her face and say “snap out of it!” or to change her hair to gray. he had told her yesterday that a golden age was coming. he whispered it deep into her ear so it could enter there and make its way all the way to her heart. he hoped she would believe it. he hoped it would make her blink, speak, move.
she had heard it.
she had felt him kiss her lips as she sat, eyes wide open, in the hallway.
she had, for the first time, felt alive. just for an instant she felt this way. she felt awake and felt her heart beat and her brain tick. but then someone opened the door and a cold wind blew into the hall where she sat and she felt the numbness of winter creep over her.
if only he knew that life cannot hurt you when you are this way.he would join herhe would come and sit and face the blank wall, not thinking, breathing, feeling. not really living. but still being alive.
Monday, December 2, 2013
all at once i knew, i was not magnificent
i hate feeling weak.
whether it is a physical or a mental or a spiritual or an emotional shortcoming, it doesn't matter. i still hate it. Thanksgiving was a lovely time with my family and friends and rest, but my weakness became more and more apparent. my inability to rightly deal with disappointments and my own sin mounted until the night before i left to come back to Johnson City.
when i could no longer handle it i laid in my dark, warm bedroom and i cried. that frustrated me further and made me feel even weaker. so (of course) i fought the tears valiantly. but even then i lost. instead of sobbing for a few minutes and being done with it, i laid for four hours with my throat tight, my eyes burning, and a small pool of tears accumulating on my pillow.
on the drive back to school, the sun rose. the moon hung silvery and crescent-shaped. there were stars in the dark blue sky along with the rose-colored signs of dawn.
it was breathtaking.
then all at once i knew, i was not magnificent. i am weak.. i am foolish and irrational and it is so good/painful to be reminded of that. but that is how it is supposed to be. if i was strong and wise and perfect i wouldn't be in desperate need of saving.
so i guess what i am saying is this post-thanksgiving season has gotten me thinking about what i am thankful for. presently, i am so grateful for this:
But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise;God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of Him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”
- 1st Corintians 1:26-31
God chooses the weak. the foolish. even the despised.
and gifts them with strength. with wisdom. with redemption.
and turns them into something glorious.
that's totally worthy of gratitude.
whether it is a physical or a mental or a spiritual or an emotional shortcoming, it doesn't matter. i still hate it. Thanksgiving was a lovely time with my family and friends and rest, but my weakness became more and more apparent. my inability to rightly deal with disappointments and my own sin mounted until the night before i left to come back to Johnson City.
when i could no longer handle it i laid in my dark, warm bedroom and i cried. that frustrated me further and made me feel even weaker. so (of course) i fought the tears valiantly. but even then i lost. instead of sobbing for a few minutes and being done with it, i laid for four hours with my throat tight, my eyes burning, and a small pool of tears accumulating on my pillow.
on the drive back to school, the sun rose. the moon hung silvery and crescent-shaped. there were stars in the dark blue sky along with the rose-colored signs of dawn.
it was breathtaking.
then all at once i knew, i was not magnificent. i am weak.. i am foolish and irrational and it is so good/painful to be reminded of that. but that is how it is supposed to be. if i was strong and wise and perfect i wouldn't be in desperate need of saving.
so i guess what i am saying is this post-thanksgiving season has gotten me thinking about what i am thankful for. presently, i am so grateful for this:
But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise;God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of Him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”
- 1st Corintians 1:26-31
God chooses the weak. the foolish. even the despised.
and gifts them with strength. with wisdom. with redemption.
and turns them into something glorious.
that's totally worthy of gratitude.
Thursday, November 21, 2013
hocus pocus focus locus
the amount of focused i have been this semester is a little magical to me. i have not just "skipped class", i have not procrastinated (half as much), i have gotten sleep (most of the time), have kept a (somewhat steady) workout routine, and have spent time with Jesus everyday.
if you know me, this is not at all congruous with my typical disheveled self. if i didn't know any better, i would say that a dramatic personality shift has taken place.
but this, in fact, is not at all true.
the biggest contributing factor (to my whole life but also) to this semester's success is the letting go of my (feeble) belief in the idea that my locus of control is internal. a whole-hearted surrendering to Jesus Christ every day has relieved the pressure and left only passion for (most of) the subjects i've been given to study (this statement excludes statistics. i have no passion for it. whatsoever. ew).
but this, in fact, is not at all true.
the biggest contributing factor (to my whole life but also) to this semester's success is the letting go of my (feeble) belief in the idea that my locus of control is internal. a whole-hearted surrendering to Jesus Christ every day has relieved the pressure and left only passion for (most of) the subjects i've been given to study (this statement excludes statistics. i have no passion for it. whatsoever. ew).
within two weeks i have: cast bronze, written and presented an abstract for a research paper, began my last sculpture of the semester, thrown up outside of michael's, heard a poetry reading, worked with a world class artist, fell more in love with east tennessee, grown more fond of david, signed up for spring classes, and found out a definite graduation date.
that has left me a bit (emotionally and, at certain times, physically) dizzy. but there is still a peaceful gratitude that pervades my relationships, my speech, and even the way i plan. i am fully confident that "today" comes and goes like a wind. that thought just doesn't distress me as it used to. the time for me to know "where i'm going" is approaching so quickly, but i have never been so at peace with not knowing as i am now.
i don't believe in an external locus of control that leaves my life up to chance. that would be a miserable existence. instead, i rest boldly in the knowledge that i have a loving, guiding, ever-present Father. He is there. with me.
that has left me a bit (emotionally and, at certain times, physically) dizzy. but there is still a peaceful gratitude that pervades my relationships, my speech, and even the way i plan. i am fully confident that "today" comes and goes like a wind. that thought just doesn't distress me as it used to. the time for me to know "where i'm going" is approaching so quickly, but i have never been so at peace with not knowing as i am now.
i don't believe in an external locus of control that leaves my life up to chance. that would be a miserable existence. instead, i rest boldly in the knowledge that i have a loving, guiding, ever-present Father. He is there. with me.
alwaysalwaysalways.
so as i am thinking on graduation and finals and a new year and growing older, i am unconcerned with the possibility that my fragile plans will fall through or that i will get hurt or even that i may fail at something crucial in my life.
i know that He is with me. and that is enough.
post-script: this post is really scattered and unfocused. and it initially was supposed to be about how focus has become a part of my life. the irony abounds.
post-script: this post is really scattered and unfocused. and it initially was supposed to be about how focus has become a part of my life. the irony abounds.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
and you don't know why
i lack organization skills and i have a terrible logical flow.
so i'm going to split this post into two stories that come to one conclusion about my generation and society at large.
i hope that's alright.
A. last night, i had the incredible privilege to see five bands play that i know and respect on a college campus. they were all very talented in their own right, and i enjoyed them immensely.
the highlight of the night for me, though, was listening to my long-time favorite, night beds.
winston yellen sauntered onto the stage and my anticipation grew. he was obviously nervous (and slightly intoxicated) but as soon as he began to sing, that didn't matter. there is a vulnerability and a power to yellen's music that is almost prayer-like. his rhythms tend to be deeply rooted .if his music could lean into any genres it would be old-style country or jazz. that said, there is something intensely spiritual and introspective about his work, regardless of his broken worldview.
so he's up there, singing us soft songs about love and darkness and isolation. the words are piercing and relatable. i took a look around me, and the majority of the students there had blank expressions on their faces and looked like could not care less. stuff like that slays me.
B. last week, i was driving home to open for my largest musical inspiration (courtney marie andrews). i was obviously nervous (but not intoxicated...just didn't want that parallel to yellin to cause any confusion) so i listened to the radio all the way to chattanooga. i generally stick to npr, the classical station, or oldies when i do turn on my radio. but this time, i just put on the "mainstream" music.
it was almost incredible to me that, song after song, what was being expressed (under a disguise of whiny voices and identical musical structures) was always apathy and despair and a longing for sexual satisfaction. those things all go hand-in-hand. those kinds of emptinesses (that's probably not a word) all point to Christ. and no one can see that. stuff like that slays me.
both of these stories are stark pictures of my generation (and society at large). we are a generation that suffers from intense isolation (due to whatever thing you want to blame it on) and a loose understanding of love and friendship. we are afraid to care about anything (like the students i mentioned) because we are afraid of being rejected from our peer group and becoming an unloved outcast. we are afraid to care about soulful things because we know that if we look long enough, we will see our weaknesses. we are afraid to be sober because we know that, in an a state aware of pain, we will be sad. we are afraid to be alone, but also afraid to be committed to loving someone else. we are afraid to do all these things. so we become sketch-like renditions of humans with hearts instead of the real deal.
the saddest thing about all of this, is that none of it is new. we are living in an ecclesiastical world where everything, even my life or your life, is a vapor. and when we live without the empowering love of Christ and the enabling grace of God and the inspiring fire of the Holy Spirit, it is indeed a vapid life.
the most joyous thing about all of this, is that we don't have to be apathetic and despondent. we have the choice (what a beautiful word) to commit to something real. it is a scary choice, so scary that many turn away from it, but it is the best one.
the lyrics to one song by night beds are:
when the sorrow comes,
and you don't know why,
come into my arms.
i'll hold you through the night.
and in the morning light,
we'll be sure to find
a kind of love so strong
it will make us cry faithful heights.
i know you get lost sometimes, man
i know you get lost.
i know you get lost sometimes, man
i know you get lost.
whenever you get lost, man
whenever you get lost, man
whenever you get lost, man
whenever you get lost
hold my hand.
yellen usually performs this song without music. his voice rises up like a plaintive prayer.
this song is like what Jesus calls out to us. He assures us that when the sorrow comes and we don't know why, He alone is the one to hold us. He leads us to a powerful love. He brings us to our knees.
but until you or i or anyone else acknowledges that He is there and He is love and He is all,
we are lost.
don't choose to live a small, a frightened, and an aimless life, there is so much in this world (and infinitely more in the spiritual world) to actually care about.
so i'm going to split this post into two stories that come to one conclusion about my generation and society at large.
i hope that's alright.
A. last night, i had the incredible privilege to see five bands play that i know and respect on a college campus. they were all very talented in their own right, and i enjoyed them immensely.
the highlight of the night for me, though, was listening to my long-time favorite, night beds.
winston yellen sauntered onto the stage and my anticipation grew. he was obviously nervous (and slightly intoxicated) but as soon as he began to sing, that didn't matter. there is a vulnerability and a power to yellen's music that is almost prayer-like. his rhythms tend to be deeply rooted .if his music could lean into any genres it would be old-style country or jazz. that said, there is something intensely spiritual and introspective about his work, regardless of his broken worldview.
so he's up there, singing us soft songs about love and darkness and isolation. the words are piercing and relatable. i took a look around me, and the majority of the students there had blank expressions on their faces and looked like could not care less. stuff like that slays me.
B. last week, i was driving home to open for my largest musical inspiration (courtney marie andrews). i was obviously nervous (but not intoxicated...just didn't want that parallel to yellin to cause any confusion) so i listened to the radio all the way to chattanooga. i generally stick to npr, the classical station, or oldies when i do turn on my radio. but this time, i just put on the "mainstream" music.
it was almost incredible to me that, song after song, what was being expressed (under a disguise of whiny voices and identical musical structures) was always apathy and despair and a longing for sexual satisfaction. those things all go hand-in-hand. those kinds of emptinesses (that's probably not a word) all point to Christ. and no one can see that. stuff like that slays me.
both of these stories are stark pictures of my generation (and society at large). we are a generation that suffers from intense isolation (due to whatever thing you want to blame it on) and a loose understanding of love and friendship. we are afraid to care about anything (like the students i mentioned) because we are afraid of being rejected from our peer group and becoming an unloved outcast. we are afraid to care about soulful things because we know that if we look long enough, we will see our weaknesses. we are afraid to be sober because we know that, in an a state aware of pain, we will be sad. we are afraid to be alone, but also afraid to be committed to loving someone else. we are afraid to do all these things. so we become sketch-like renditions of humans with hearts instead of the real deal.
the saddest thing about all of this, is that none of it is new. we are living in an ecclesiastical world where everything, even my life or your life, is a vapor. and when we live without the empowering love of Christ and the enabling grace of God and the inspiring fire of the Holy Spirit, it is indeed a vapid life.
the most joyous thing about all of this, is that we don't have to be apathetic and despondent. we have the choice (what a beautiful word) to commit to something real. it is a scary choice, so scary that many turn away from it, but it is the best one.
the lyrics to one song by night beds are:
when the sorrow comes,
and you don't know why,
come into my arms.
i'll hold you through the night.
and in the morning light,
we'll be sure to find
a kind of love so strong
it will make us cry faithful heights.
i know you get lost sometimes, man
i know you get lost.
i know you get lost sometimes, man
i know you get lost.
whenever you get lost, man
whenever you get lost, man
whenever you get lost, man
whenever you get lost
hold my hand.
yellen usually performs this song without music. his voice rises up like a plaintive prayer.
this song is like what Jesus calls out to us. He assures us that when the sorrow comes and we don't know why, He alone is the one to hold us. He leads us to a powerful love. He brings us to our knees.
but until you or i or anyone else acknowledges that He is there and He is love and He is all,
we are lost.
don't choose to live a small, a frightened, and an aimless life, there is so much in this world (and infinitely more in the spiritual world) to actually care about.
Monday, October 21, 2013
monday morning thoughts
it is early enough where the mist and frost is still thick around my door in my apartment. i am drinking coffee and literally minutes from heading down to a statistics exam that i tried desperately to prepare for.
i have been thinking about acceptance a lot. partly because that has always been a struggle of mine (accepting myself more than others) and partly because a couple dear people i know are reading Brennan Manning's Ragamuffin Gospel. this book is a gem that deals with accepting love from Jesus and others. besides love, i feel like it is often hard to accept what you really are.
let me elaborate a little (i have exactly eight minutes until i need to go...so it won't be too long. promise)
i spent most of highschool over-committing myself and kind of drowning myself with friends and fellowship. i thought i loved it, when the reality is, it drove me crazy. i remember so many times coming home from a function or a retreat or a class or a game night feeling so drained. i spent a lot of time honing my people skills to the point where i could make a friend within an hour. the result of all of this was me thinking that i had a large personality and a loud voice and a boisterously fun disposition. in my mind, i was the girl in the group that would initiate the fun and lead it brilliantly. i did not at all see that my chaotic social life and my long list of friends were correlated with feelings of isolation and depression. i rarely spent time with myself. when i did, it was uncomfortable and i would usually find someone to see or be with.
after hard lessons about God's ability to open my eyes to my own dark heart, i realized i am a small woman. yes, i do love people. i am capable of initiating. i am passionate about loving my friends well. but i need to be with just Jesus and just me at least a little bit a day, or i grow terribly blue. it's just fact.
i used to think something was a little bit wrong with me. but i know now that that something is part of what makes me beautiful and pleasing to God.
all this to say,
God glories in creating the small people or the quiet people or the loners or the introverts or whatever you call them. He painstakingly made us so that we would long for solitude and long for Him.
and it's kind of nice.
that's really all. i might be late for that exam. oops.
p.s. God of course delights in extroverts as well. no partiality there.
i have been thinking about acceptance a lot. partly because that has always been a struggle of mine (accepting myself more than others) and partly because a couple dear people i know are reading Brennan Manning's Ragamuffin Gospel. this book is a gem that deals with accepting love from Jesus and others. besides love, i feel like it is often hard to accept what you really are.
let me elaborate a little (i have exactly eight minutes until i need to go...so it won't be too long. promise)
i spent most of highschool over-committing myself and kind of drowning myself with friends and fellowship. i thought i loved it, when the reality is, it drove me crazy. i remember so many times coming home from a function or a retreat or a class or a game night feeling so drained. i spent a lot of time honing my people skills to the point where i could make a friend within an hour. the result of all of this was me thinking that i had a large personality and a loud voice and a boisterously fun disposition. in my mind, i was the girl in the group that would initiate the fun and lead it brilliantly. i did not at all see that my chaotic social life and my long list of friends were correlated with feelings of isolation and depression. i rarely spent time with myself. when i did, it was uncomfortable and i would usually find someone to see or be with.
after hard lessons about God's ability to open my eyes to my own dark heart, i realized i am a small woman. yes, i do love people. i am capable of initiating. i am passionate about loving my friends well. but i need to be with just Jesus and just me at least a little bit a day, or i grow terribly blue. it's just fact.
i used to think something was a little bit wrong with me. but i know now that that something is part of what makes me beautiful and pleasing to God.
all this to say,
God glories in creating the small people or the quiet people or the loners or the introverts or whatever you call them. He painstakingly made us so that we would long for solitude and long for Him.
and it's kind of nice.
that's really all. i might be late for that exam. oops.
p.s. God of course delights in extroverts as well. no partiality there.
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