resurrection

the highs are high

Thank all that is holy!

Lol yes!!

Thank God!

These were some of the text responses from my classmates when I gave them the new that our adviser is finally writing his recommendation letters for us, after we complained last night about how they weren't done and he was texting us about SEM. Who gives a crap about SEM when we have applications due this week and next? Why are you bothering with that, Dr. E? Just write the stinkin' letters!

And so I was happy to pass the good news along when I received his text about having to stay up late tonight to write recommendation letters. This was just the last of several good pieces of news that I've received since yesterday regarding my application and dissertation proposal process. Last week was a low in this process, several things were stressing me out, and in the last 24 hours, they've all been reversed. It's incredible really, what a big difference things like recommendation letters, deadline extensions, transcripts finally in order, and helpful feedback on my essays makes.

And right now I'm utterly grateful. I still have a lot to do and a ways to go, but I'm energized and encouraged. God is answering prayers. Things are clearly working out as they are meant to, and in a good way. Peace and joy and hope have been restored to my heart, at least for now. I recognize that this process is a roller coaster and the next low could be right around the corner, but for now, I'm riding this high as far as it will take me.

And I'm not alone. In this past week, I've received so much support and love from my community. Friends have hugged me, prayed for me, laughed with me, cried with me. Friends, classmates, colleagues are helping me with my essays, giving me helpful feedback and helping me learn more about myself in this process. I realized today that I'm going to have so many people to thank come February when I match at my internship site. There is no way I could accomplish this by myself. It makes my heart swell with love and gratitude just thinking about it. Thank you.

I'm reminded of an odd but inspiring Bible story from Exodus 17. Moses was up on a hill, watching his people fight a battle and they would win as long as he held up his hands, but when he lowered his hands, their enemies started winning. But he wasn't alone. His brother Aaron and his friend Hur were up there with him, and when his arms grew tired, they lifted his arms until they had won the battle. They literally supported him and carried his burden when he was too weak to do so.

And so I feel like Moses in that story. I get tired, and weak, and anxious, and afraid, and depressed, but God has put people in my life, on my left and my right side, and you are supporting me in those weak moments. Thank you.

Though as I write this, I'm filled with a little piece of fear. Why am I moving away from these people? Why am I going someone where no one will hold me up when I'm weak? But those fears are utterly untrue. I'm going to another place where others will continue to support me, where I will work with great supervisor and peers and learn from them. And there will be another family waiting to embrace me when I arrive. It has to be true. I'm not going through all of this to just to fall when I get there. And this family I'm leaving behind? I feel that they are sending me forward. I wouldn't be going where I'm going without them, without you. And some of you are moving forward too, and I'm grateful to support you in your battles, to send you forward in your journey.

Things to do in 2010

I dislike the term "resolution" because it invokes a sense of dreadful pressure, that I have "resolved" myself to do something, to carry out some new task or habit, which if I don't live up to it, I will feel defeated, guilty, and discouraged. True, we should feel sorrow when we disregard our word, break promises, and fall through on commitments, but this western tradition of New Year's resolutions seems to bring more negative emotions than necessary. To avoid unnecessary shame and defeat, this is not a list of resolutions. I am not resolving to doing any of these things in the year 2010. Instead, this is a list of things that I would like to do in the coming year. Hopefully in 2011 I will look back at this post and rejoice that I did most of these things. Also, these are just a list of activities I'd like to do, not any goals about my character or inner person. For more on that, please refer to my previous post, which relates to how I would like to be a better lover in the coming year.

• Be more active - take yoga classes, ride my bike more, and swing dance again.
• Grow an herb garden that stays alive.
• Start an investment fund.
• Propose my dissertation.
• Get a new job.
• Find a new roommate. (One of mine is graduating, I love both my roommates!)
• Clean the catbox more often.
• Have less boy drama. (I probably say that every year, which is why these are just things to do, not resolutions)
• Bake bread every now and then.
• Apply for internship OR decide what to do and where to live in 2011.
• Buy a used roadbike and ride a marathon/race on it.
• Read more non-fiction, non-academic books than I did in 2009.
• Complete the Celebration of Discipline by Foster with my church small group, and start to practice more of those disciplines. (I'm sure there some fodder for some good Lenten practices in there)
• Take a daily photo. (check out my facebook account for the link to my flickr account, or comment and I'll email you the link)

Yup, those sound pretty good for now.

birthday eve

It's the night before my birthday and I just feel like crying.

I feel sadness. I feel longing. And I feel frustration with myself that I'm feeling this way even though tomorrow is my birthday, tomorrow is my day of celebration, of turning 24, and I will spend more time with friends and family, as I already have this weekend, and I will receive good wishes and kind words and love and appreciation. And I'm afraid that I'll be ungrateful, that I'll just feel mildly appreciated, and not deeply loved, and not truly enjoy myself like I'd like to on my birthday. But maybe feelings aren't everything. Maybe I can still receive these things from others, and still treasure and ponder them in the days and months to come, and maybe even if I don't experience immediately the joy and encouragement of such things, maybe they will still take root in my heart and blossom into further blessings that I can continue to experience in times ahead.

2009 has been such a year so far, and though I wouldn't change anything, I'm ready to hit the reset button. It's no longer heaven and hell side by side, but rather a bait and switch has occurred. The amazingly good things went down the tubes and the shitty things have improved and continue to improve (and I rejoice in that). Some things that were good two months ago continue to be good, and continue to get better. None of the goods or bads are as extreme as they were two months ago, which almost seems just how they should be. I suppose that I do believe that everything is just how it should be, though often things feel horribly off. I wish I could change some of this, but I do believe that I'm receiving what I need to receive and growing and becoming more the person that God has created me to be, a new creation, being transformed and renewed. I see evidence of this growth, and know that it's not just some nice cliche that I tell myself and others to feel better. No, this growth is real, I know without a doubt that I am more mature that I was a year ago, two years ago, four years ago. Sucks that it takes experiencing pain to realize this growth, but I'm grateful for the truth and reminder, whatever package it comes in.

All the same, I'm ready to hit the reset button on my life, to start fresh in several things, to not be around reminders of this past year anymore, though it's been a good, wonderful, fun, exciting, growthful year in many, many ways. I am just ready to step into the new. Thankfully, still living as a student, these resets occur every few months, and in the upcoming months, the reset button will be hit multiple times, starting tomorrow. Beep. Now I'm 24. Then next week, beep, new job. Two weeks later, beep. New class. Beep. New practicum setting. Beep. New place to live, new roommates. I don't see these changes as erasing the past or trying to forget anything, but I do feel excited about them as I see them as new opportunities, fresh starts, improvements, blessings, gifts. Reminders that nothing is permanent, that as the wind whips the clouds across the full moon, so too will God move me away from the tears and pain, and move me toward his goodness, his love, his mercies, his tenderness, into the beautiful newness.

Why do I post something sharing sadness when I should be celebrating and joyful? Maybe because it just feels so wrong, that I should be happy right now, damnit. Happiness will probably come tomorrow, maybe not all day long, but maybe some of the day, maybe even most of the day. Why do I write this now? Do I want sympathy? Probably. Let's be honest, I appreciate the sympathy and the concern, even though sometimes it embarasses me when people respond overly concerned. Why do I write this now? Why do I want to remember the last day of being 23rd as a sad one? I write this in the confident hope that I will soon look back on this post, and realize that I don't feel this way. I write this is the hope that being 24 will be better than being 23, that being 24 will mean less tears and more smiles and laughter and hope, and even if I experience more tears this upcoming year, that 24 will mean being more mature, experiencing more love, and feeling more confident.

It's the night before my birthday and I cried. It's the night before my birthday and I stood outside, alone atop the highest hill in this town, listening to nothing but crickets chirping and distant dogs barking, and feeling the cool, gentle, life-giving breeze. It's the night before my birthday and I'm kinda smiling.

far as the curse is found

In my last post, I mentioned that I hadn't gotten sick at all this past semester. I probably spoke too soon, because now I'm sick today, some sort of cold with a minor fever. Great, on the Eve of Christmas Eve, which means that I'll likely be feeling somewhat icky during all my family's Christmas celebrations :( For some of these family members, especially on my dad's side, this is the only time of the year when I see them, so I pray that I have the energy to enjoy their company and keep up with conversations. I've been sucking down the Cold-eeze, and will probably head to bed early, as soon as the TCU bowl game is over. Could be worse. I could be jet lagged.

I've been enjoying a lot of Christmas music lately, and even when caroling around my neighborhood about a week ago. It's a neat experience, and if you haven't done it recently, I highly recommend gathering some friends and family, printing out song lyrics, wearing warm clothes (or t-shirts, if Texas is being fickle like it has been these past couple of weeks), and harassing your neighbors with your attempts at singing. They might even pity you enough to give you cookies or candy canes - our neighbors sure did.

I remember listening to "Joy to the World" back in June or July because it was on a Tom Conlon CD called "Eight Roads Home" that I had purchased after seeing him live. He performed this song, stating that it shouldn't just be a Christmas song, that we should sing it all year round, and I think he's right. As with a lot of Christmas songs, it sounds like "Joy" could be describing both the first incarnation of our Savior, and his return as king. Verses describing fields, floods, rocks, hills, and plains repeating the joy of men do remind me more of the second coming, as the rocks haven't yet shouted out their audible praises. I truly love the third verse, one that I hadn't heard very often until listening to the Tom Conlong version.

No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found,
Far as the curse is found,
Far as, far as, the curse is found.

This Christmas season, as I've heard more versions of this song, I keep getting the "far as the curse is found" part stuck in my head. Even when this verse isn't sung, I find myself hearing those words, "far as the curse is found," and I imagine every part of creation where the curse could be found, where sin and sorrow, death and destruction, are hiding in darkness. I visualize the blessings of Christ, His powerful victory of sin and death, salvation, redemption, flowing like a river over all the earth, into ever crack and crevice where the curse could be hiding and bringing light, goodness, holiness, justice, mercy, joy, forgiveness, freedom, beauty, and restoration. This is the hope that I celebrate this Christmas season.

Merry Christmas, brothers and sisters, dear friends :) I hope that this hope encourages you this season and is realized fully in your life. I love you and am thankful for you.

calcium sulfate

Every once in a while, this campus absolutely surprises, delights, and enchants me.

This morning, all over the sidewalks were chalk-written messages of encouragement and hope for students taking finals:

"You're prepared!"
"You'll do great!"
"Merry Christmas!"
"It's almost over!"
"If you're worried, say a prayer."
"God bless."

I wonder if these are all over campus. I wonder how many people were involved, and when they did this. I like to imagine a bunch of black-clad, chalk wielding vigilante Christians sneaking around all over campus at 3 am this morning to spread messages of hope and cheer. Or they probably just did it in normal clothes, and people saw them do it, but I like to imagine.

At any rate, it made me smile, and completely forget for a few minutes the scratches down my the side of my car that my roommate accidentally inflicted upon my vehicle at 5am this morning. I'm not mad, in fact, it's really just annoying that we'll have to take care of it. I'll probably wait until I go home before I get it fixed. Pathetically, the worst part right now is that in the rush and excitement of trying to figure out what had happened, I completely forgot my backpack, which contained protocols I was going to turn in, and even worse - my coffee. So instead of my homemade Starbucks brew, I'm drinking break room coffee mixed with hot cocoa to make it palatable.

But it's all ok, because there are good people out there who use chalk for spreading joy :)

It's almost over.

weighing me down

I'd like to be Europe right now. Or the mountains. Or somewhere warm. Warm European mountains, maybe? They probably don't exist, at least not right now. Maybe Chile or Argentina has warm mountains right now, hmm.

It's that time of the semester again when I'm stressed. Stressed about finishing assignments, stressed about family, stressed about money, stressed about not having enough direction, stressed about not be able get into all my spring classes yet, stressed about not having enough sleep. Basically, I'm just letting it all get to me, once I get stressed about one thing, then everything piles on top of me. I need to say no to this pattern. I need to get a massage that I still have a gift certificate for.

Thanksgiving and Christmas stress me out right now. I'm looking forward to having a nice long break in just another few weeks, I guess. Advent begins soon. This will be good, I need to remember what I'm hoping for, and the hope and salvation and kingdom that already exists now and is coming.

I'm going to go eat some sushi. And study the WAIS-IV. And read some words of hope. And sleep for a solid 8 hours.

Europe still sounds really nice.

If one part suffers, every part suffers with it

It was meant to be a night of celebration. We were to don our wedding gowns, bridesmaids dresses, veils, thrift store finds, whatever. We were to take pictures at a beautiful fountain, then part for dinner with our comgroups, then return together at our church to eat wedding cake, look at wedding albums, and watch a chick flick. It was meant to be a night of laughter and joy.

Today, a beautiful, talented, precious woman named Stephanie found out that the baby inside of her no longer has a heartbeat. She is in the hospital now and the doctors will induce labor and tomorrow she will deliver and hold a baby girl who will not breath the air of this earth.

There was still some laughter and joy as a few women from our comgroup gathered for dinner. At her house, Kim showed us her wedding gown, which she had opened for the first time since her wedding, along with her bridal portrait and her veil. I bought Girl Scout nut mix from her daughter. But as I rode with her to the lovely restaurant in downtown Bryan, I sensed an underlying sadness so I asked her how she was doing with all of this. She's heartbroken for Stephanie, but also grateful for her three children. She told me of the complications that she had during her final pregnancy, and how thankful she is that her youngest son is well, how thankful she is that her family had no real problems creating children, when so many other families from our church have experienced inferitility, miscarriages, and now, a stillborn delivery. "This is worse than a miscarriage," she said, "I don't know what to compare it to. The only thing worse that I can imagine is losing a child that you already know."

Dinner was delightful, and fell on a special evening in downtown Bryan where all of the shops and art galleries stay open later and have life music and special events. We walked around after dinner, stopping by our friend's art crowded art gallery to look at paintings and jewelry and pottery and to listen to jazz music. A few blocks down Kim's husband and his best friend were playing music outside of an old hotel, so we stopped to listen to them. Earlier that evening, we had passed her husband and his friend setting up, and I had asked if she wanted us to go by and see them later. "No, it's ok," she replied, "This is really more his friend's gig, and I've seen them many many times." But towards the end of dinner, I noticed Kim growing more silent. By the time we left he gallery, she just simply stated, "I need to go see Adam play." When we arrived outside of the hotel, I watched her greet her husband with a kiss while his hands were still touching his drums. They spoke briefly, and then Kim turned to catch up with another friend who was watching the show. In many ways, this husband and wife sometimes seems so strong and independent, both of them able to receive strength and confidence from the Lord on their own, but they're still interdependent in a beautiful way, and I feel like tonight I witnessed her receive comfort and strength from her husband in a simple way, in a kiss, a few words, eye contact, and his presence.

We still gathered at our church after dinner. There was still wedding cake, three tiers of chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla. But instead of wedding albums and romantic comedies, there was prayer and scripture. When we arrived, the women were already in a circle, tears in every eye, reading scriptures of comfort and love and hurt and trust. I was soon informed that all of the scripture being read was being recorded, and this recording would be played for Stephanie tomorrow. I heard someone read the scripture, Isaiah 43:2, that I likely would have read for her . . .

"When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze."

The scripture continued to flow, until a woman spoke a blessing to Stephanie and her husband and stated that she would dedicate this song to them. A long silence followed, eventually broken by her voice singing out clear and free a beautiful song about coming to the river, letting the waters wash over her, dancing in the river. After we concluded the recording, we prayed for the other pregnant women who were among us, prayed protection for their babies, and prayed against fear and guilt. Eventually, we moved into a more casual time, and did eat the wedding cake, as we wrote on blue cards words for Stephanie to be built into a scrapbook.

I spoke with Ari, a woman from my old comgroup, a dear, wise, wonderful woman who has been with me through some of my toughest times this past year. Ari is pregnant with her third child, and experienced two miscarriages before her first child was born. I told Ari that I'd been praying for her pregnancy and praying for her baby since I found out that she was pregnant. She told me how she scared her husband today after hearing about Stephanie's baby when she told him, "I haven't felt the baby kick today." She was frightened, so she drank some cold water, laid down on her bed, and prayed for her baby's kick. Eventually, she felt her baby kick inside, but somehow this wasn't enough, so she pleaded with God to feel her baby kick one more time. Eventually, she felt the second kick, and she knew that God was answering her prayers, and giving her these signs to show her that her baby was ok, that she could trust him, and not be afraid.

It was a strange, beautiful, tragic blessing of a night as the women of this body, my family, mourned together. But our grief, deep as it may feel, was not without hope, not without hope of the resurrection, of the Christ who has taken away the sting of death, of the hope that God has not forsaken Stephanie, that she will be protected and healed and restored, and the hope that one day Stephanie and Mia will be reconciled together again.

a vision of myself

This past Saturday evening at my retreat, we had a church service, in which our pastor invited us to regain our imagination, and ask God to give us a vision of where we should be individually and collectively as a church body. He invited us to share our individual visions, so that we can support one another. I've never shared at a church wide gathering before, but I was the second person to stand up. I knew that if I waited to speak, I would chicken out and never stand up. My pastor handed me the microphone, and I began to speak,

"Hey, I'm really nervous to share this. I have a vision for myself, and I actually have a literal picture that reminds me of this vision. It's a picture that a few months ago I printed out and have in my car dashboard to remind me. It's from last summer, when I was in Switzerland, in the mountains. So, picture the most beautiful mountain scene that you can imagine, and me in front of it, smiling and confident. I have a vision of myself as someone who is really confident, truly confident in the Lord, in who He says He is, and in who Hey says I am, and who really believes those things. I want my confidence to come from God, and not from others, and their approval, and what others say and do towards me. Yeah, so, that's my vision of myself, and I wanted to share that with you guys. I'd really appreciate your prayers for this to happen, and I'm not sure how you can help me with this, but any help you can offer would be great. Thanks."

I sat back down, relieved that I had shared this, and listened to many others share about their desires to use their gifts, their desires to be free from certain things, major lifestyle changes they were making, ways that they wanted to be different. After everyone was done sharing, our pastor encouraged any who did not stand but who were touched by something someone shared or who knew them personally and wanted to pray for them, to go find that person and share with them and pray for them. Four women approached me, Amanda from my smallgroup, two friends my age, Elaine and Jen M, and Kim, my new neighbor, a mother who is an occupational therapist and who's husband is a psychologists. Each of them prayed for me, and prayed that I would have this confidence that I described. Amanda prayed that they would be better friends toward me and help support me in this. Kim prayed that she already saw this confidence in me, and that it would continue to grow. I don't remember what Elaine and Jen prayed, but I remembered it also being good and true and touching, and there were happy, grateful tears in my eyes as I experienced the support of these four women.

Afterwards, we all walked outside to watch a fireworks show. As the flames rose and burst, I felt that my act of voicing this vision, and the affirmation I received, of speaking it outloud, of others speaking it, somehow this voice gave power to that vision. I felt and believed that this is something that God wants for me, and this is something that He will achieve. This past year has been full of many doubts, so easily, I feel attacked, rejected, left alone, made worthless. It's sometimes so easy for believe the worst about a situation and to believe the worst about others. But I know these are lies. I know that God is good, and I know that He is my provider, and with me, and taking care of me, but sometimes I feel like He's holding back on me. I know that's not true, but ugh, it's so easy to believe. I have to continue to remind myself that God is good, that he knows what he's doing, that he provides for me, that he never leaves me, that his will is perfect, and that I want his will more than anything. I doubt it, I try to take control, but when it really comes down to it, I don't want to be outside of his will, because He is good. He is good, and this is good.

So I share this with you, friends, family, blog brothers and sisters, because you are an extension of my church, of the body that I belong to. I ask you to support me, and to pray for me, that this vision will become more and more a reality to me.

a retreat or something

August is going by in a whirlwind, but it's been a really good month. I just got back from Boston a few days ago, which was an amazing experience and I hope to write about it, and now I'm off again for the weekend for a church retreat! It's at this beautiful camp center, but it may rain :(

This is short, but I wanted to write and ask for prayers. I love this church, but over this past year, I've experienced intense loneliness and a longing for close friends in my new home, a longing that I still don't believe has been fulfilled. I'm excited about this weekend together at my church, but also nervous, because I'm afraid that it will highlight the emptiness I sometimes feel and the lack of connection that I have, instead of being an incredible opportunity for me to connect with God and His body. So, please pray for me, that I will be free from fears, insecurity, jealousy, and loneliness, and that instead I will be led by the Spirit and go into this weekend ready to give and to receive, that I'll just be open to whatever is supposed to happen, and free from too many expectations, good or bad. I think that good things will happen this weekend, I just have my doubts, and I need prayers to help me with all my conflicted feelings. Pray that God will meet my needs, and that He will connect me more with others this weekend, and begin and develop friendships with good, godly people.

unique cargo, ugly baggage

I have about three potential blog entries already written in my head, but I've decided to first write the most salient one.

Yesterday, driving along Highway 6, a train passed me. This is pretty common as I see plenty of trains, but the cargo of this train was unique, and like nothing I'd never seen outside of movies. This train was carrying at least 40 military tanks, all desert tan.

Two weeks ago, I saw a dead man on the highway. It was late at night, and several police cars had a lane blocked off. As I approached, I noticed the wrecked cars, the ambulance, the police officers, and then there he was, contorted face down on the pavement. There were people nearby, but no one giving him medical attention, no one hauling him away on a stretcher, no officers collecting evidence, no white sheet covering him, no white chalk outline, he just lay there as car after car passed. I still don't know what happened. Was he thrown from his vehicle? Was he trying to cross the street, and hit by a car at 70 mph? This is the first time I've told anyone what I saw. I don't know that I've ever seen a dead person that wasn't in a coffin, hair and makeup nicely fixed. I'm not even positive he was dead, but why else was he face down in such an awkward position, with no one helping him?

And then there were those tanks yesterday. 40 plus killing machines being transported across Texas, that will eventually make it over to the Middle East. I described it to my mom, and she said, "That sounds like something you'd see in WWII." And it's true, while the technology as change drastically in the past 60 years, on the outside, tanks still look relatively the same. A tank is a tank is a tank, and I felt like I was transported back to a time when reminders of war were an everyday occurrence.

I've felt so insulated from this current war. Yes, it's all over the news, stories, sounds, images, reports, controversies, but it still seems to far removed from my present life. I've had ROTC and Corps friends talk about it, but that's all in the future, none of them have been sent to Iraq yet. I've only known dads of friends who have been sent to Iraq, and while it's affected them, and they've told me about it, it's not my dad, or brother, or cousin, or uncle, or friend.

But this past week I've found myself more interested in the War in Iraq, listening to new reports, reading up on its origins, reading about controversies, reading about horrible, terrible, horrific things that have happened. We all heard and saw the pictures from the Abu Ghraib prison tortures, and just googling the name to check the spelling brought up horrifying images. And what about the US soldiers who raped an Iraqi girl, and murdered her and her entire family? These might be isolated incidents of a deranged and depraved few, and I don't consider them to be representative of our soldiers. But what about the high rate of sexual assaults and sexual harassment against women in our military? I truly respect our soldiers, their families, and their sacrifice. But no amount of email forwards of US soldiers hugging Iraqi children will make me believe that war does not bring out the worst in people. I know that it sometimes brings out the best in people, and purple heart medals and heroic stories are testimony to this, but I believe that many soldiers from Iraq are making a tremendous sacrifice and returning home worse from their experiences, as many sustain traumatic brain injuries and suffer from PTSD.

Am I anti-war? I hate that label, because in our society, to label someone as anti-war also means that they're radically liberal or unpatriotic, but these words are just misguided attacks. I love my country, and I hate war. War is ugly and a result of the fall and the presence of sin in the world, and as Christians, we probably should be against war. I believe that wars are sometimes necessary and there is such a thing as a just war, but I believe that this current war against Iraq was unnecessary. I know that at the time, just about everyone in Washington, reds and blues alike, believed this war to be necessary, but they were making judgments off of false information. Now that we know more of the truth, we're so far into this war, that we can't just pull out, we have to stay and attempt to stabilize the country. I hope that good will come of this, for Iraq and the United States.

I want our nation to make wise decisions about war. I want us to stand up against injustice, with the help our international community, and use our military power for good. I doubt that the Republican party can adequately do that, and I'm not sure that the Democratic party can do it either. I really can't put my full hope in political leaders and policies, but I do put my hope in the belief that one day Christ will return, he will judge the nations, and we will beat our swords (or machine guns, or tanks) into plowshares and need weapons no longer.

Until that day, tanks will roll across the plains, reminding us of our fallen state.

here I go again, my my, how could I resist you?

So, it's almost 11pm, I'm spending what I thought would be my first night alone in my new house, baking cookies, emailing folks, calling friends, watching movie trailers (Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, RocknRolla, W., Pineapple Express, etc), when I hear the jiggling of a door handle. I probably had a few armhairs that stood on end, but instead of going into panic mode, I managed to call out, "Hello?"

Turns out it was my fourth roommate who I hadn't met yet! She's only in town for a few days, but then again so am I, so it looks like I won't be alone during this time afterall! It is kinda weird for us to just meet like this. Basically, my other roommates are a girl I knew from church, her best friend/roommate, and this fourth girl is a friend of the girl I know from church's best friend. But it's nice to finally meet her, but odd that it wasn't an introduction from the other girls. Oh well! Perhaps it's good to get to know her this way, just one on one, without the mediating friends. Or it could just be awkward.

First impression: she seems nice, and is pretty. She looks like Amanda Seyfield from Mamma Mia, which was wonderful, if you love musicals, you should see it.

Even if the next few days are kinda weird having this new roommate that I don't know at all around, it's a good change. I've spent all summer living alone, and before that, 9 months living with a roommate who stayed in her room with the door closed 95% of the time. I need more social interaction and activity my living quarters. Though I don't know these girls all that well, I'm very hopeful about this being a good living situation. The one girl I know from church is just really kind, genuine, mature, and fun. I don't know why, but every time I talk with her, I get a good vibe from her. I feel like I can be at ease around her, which is a good quality in a roommate, and hopefully friend. I really wanted to live with friends this year, but if I can make friends with the people that I'm living with, then that's just as good, if not better.

In addition to the roommates, this room, house, neighborhood, and location are all really sweet. My room is HUGE because it used to be a garage, which means that I can fit all my furniture (desk, dresser, chest of drawers) and upgraded to a full-sized bed and it doesn't feel crowded, and I have my own bathroom. I have downgraded to a shower instead of a full bath, but I never take baths anyway. The house is wonderful. It's old and full of character, which sounds like a euphemism for ugly ("has a great personality"), but in this case, it's really not. Maybe I'll post some pictures, but for now, imagine original hardwood floors throughout most of the house, tastefully colorfully painted walls, a couple of cute pocket doors here and there, kitchen cabinets with unique treasures abounding (pull out drawers? turntable corners? pull out pot hangers?), and the house is spacious, with a living room/dining room, kitchen, then an extra "common room" where the other girls put their desks. This common room/kitchen area is really great, as lots of light spills in from the backyard.

Oh, and the backyard! It's huge, and shady, and I've already started a morning sitting out back drinking my coffee. It's so peaceful, I never used my backyard at the previous house because it was small, and hot, and no decent furniture, and there was a hyper dog, but this backyard is one that I can actually see myself enjoying. I love this neighborhood. It's all older, well-kept homes, and every yard has huge trees, so there lots of shade and greenery. And it's quiet, so you can hear birds. The wildlife is just great, I've watched squirrels playing, and seen dogs and cats around. Our next door neighbors have too adorable puppies that I can stick my fingers through the chainlink fence to pet. By far, the best animal of the neighborhood is Mutant Cat. Mutant Cat has an extra toe on each foot that looks like a thumb, is missing its tail, has a strange bump on its back, drools excessively, and is exceptionally friendly. Mutant Cat has Friend Kitty, who seems to be Mutant Cat's shy sidekick. I see them together quite frequently.

From what I can tell, there seem to be more families than college students living in this neighborhood, and it seems more diverse. I've seen an old woman in hair curlers out watering her yard one night, a couple of black preteen girls riding their bicycles around. A family from my church, the one who the husband is a psychologist that I've mentioned, lives right around the street, and the wife has a few times encouraged me to literally just drop by. When I get my bike back, I'll have to try out this "dropping by" thing and see how it works out.

Finally, there's the location. I drove to campus and parked today in about five minutes, as its about half a mile away, and it's about five minutes from the clinic where I see clients. Phenomenal. Before today, I was a commuter. Once I drove to campus, I'd stay around that area, never going home until my day was over. Today, I went home between work and clients and showered. I would have never done this at my old location, unless I had three + hours to spare. And while I was home, a friend from church rode his bike over here to collect a check I've been meaning to give him for this camp that he sent some kids to. How cool. I cannot remember the last time that I had a friend ride a bike to my house that didn't already live on my street. I can totally dig this.

Symbols

This morning, as I slipped four thin pink and gold metallic bangles over my left hand, I instantly remembered Britt's recent visit and us going to eat at the Hindu temple in Dallas, where I bought these bangles. I miss Britt and I don't know when I'll see her again, but in a simple way, the bangles brought back fond memories of her and represent the connection we share, though we live in different states.

As I was walking to work, I realized that head to toe, everything I'm wearing represents a relationship I have or a significant event in my life. My flip flops were given to me by my dad and stepmom, my shorts were bought with a giftcard my mom gave me, and she helped me pick them out too. My underwear was bought when I was shopping with Heather, and my bra was bought with a giftcard from my stepsister. The scarf I'm wearing as a belt was given to me by a former roommate. (Scarf belts are a signature look of mine, by the way. I have an entire draw full of scarves for this purpose) The purse I'm carrying was given to me by my friend Meredith. My class ring was another gift from my mother, and it represents my college experience and the success of earning my first degree. I'm literally wearing all of these relationships, that have enriched my life physically, emotionally and spiritually.

Even the things that I bought for myself hold symbolic meaning for me. I bought my floppy hat to feel carefree and happy. I'm wearing the shirt that I wore at my interview for A&M; this very shirt on my body now came with me as I first visited this department and began to make the decision to come here. The ring I'm wearing on my right hand I bought about a month ago specifically to be symbolic. It's a silver ring, with three spirals in it. I feel like I'm coming out of a hard season in my life, and I bought this ring to represent that though I may feel confused, things may seem crazy and out of control, that's not the case. God is with me through all of this and is empowering me to handle anything that may come my way. I can handle ze craziness of life.

I'm a sentimental person, that's for sure. I easily become attached to things that I attach meaning to. I don't think it's good to be overly attached to material possessions, but as symbols, they can be quite meaningful. A couple of months ago, I dropped and broke this glass ring that I had bought in Venice. I cried when it broke, and later decided that I would ask my friend going to Italy this summer to buy me another one. Within a few days, I realized that I didn't need to replace it. It was just a thing, not a devastating loss, and I have many other things to remind me of my special time in Europe. I bought it because it was pretty, but didn't wear it a whole lot because it was purple and didn't match everything. As I'm writing this, I realized that I wear the silver ring I bought a month ago on the same finger that I would sometimes wear the Venice ring. At the time, I didn't think of buying the silver ring as a replacement. It may not be from an exotic locale, but I think I prefer the new ring on this finger to the previous one.

So, what about you? Do you own any symbolic possessions that are special to you?

green, living, and growing

It must be genetic. Like my cousin, my thumbs aren't green either. My roommate is gone for the summer, and at the very last minute she asked, "Hey, can you water my ivy? It just needs it every two weeks." This seemed like a really simple request, I mean, of course your roommate is responsible enough to water one plant every two weeks, right? Poor little ivy went an entire month without water. I noticed this about a week ago. This little guy by the sink was looking very droopy and brown, and I realized that it had been at least a month. How ironic, it sits right by the sink, all day long, watching me rinse my dishes, fill up my Brita pitcher, etc, but never receiving any of this overly abundant water to quench its own thirst. I think it's starting to recover. A few of the leaves on the ends of it look green, which might be new growth, who knows. Ivies are supposed to be hardy little plants, so I think it'll make it.

I think I'm starting to recover too, and I feel like there are parts of me that are becoming more green and coming back to life again. I finally feel like I can breath easy and receive water for my thirst. This past week has been good for me. This weekend is good too. At least for the present, I'm letting go of worrying about making friends, finding things to do, running around, trying to outrun my loneliness. You can't outrun loneliness, by the way. Or at least I can't. I'm not that fast of a runner. And the running just gets exhausting. So for the time being, I've stopped. And you know what? When you stop running from loneliness, sometimes it stops chasing you. Instead of trying to find people to spend my Friday and Saturday evenings with this weekend, only to be disappointed when someone's busy or when my ex shows up, I'm resting. I'm working on my papers due next week, hanging out at coffee shops, watching X-Files, making rice krispie treats, journaling, reading, relaxing, and praying.

I'm praying that I'll understand God's love for me more, that I'll see myself as he sees me, that I'll see him as I should, that I'll start trusting him again, that I'll let go of my fears, and really have faith that he will take care of me and give me all that I need. I don't think this will all happen in one weekend, but I'm trying to get to a place where I can rest my confidence in God, and love myself as he loves me, and not seek constantly seek approval from others, and be ok with being alone, and still need others, but not needing others. I think when I'm in this state, a lot of these worries will become insignificant, and I'll be open to receiving from God and others, and eventually able to freely give. I've been giving, or at least going through the motions, but at the heart of my giving is loneliness and feelings of being unneeded, and through giving, I've been hoping to be filled with something else, whether it's just filling up my time or giving me a sense of being needed for a few hours.

I feel good about this. I don't feel lonely. I don't feel unloved. I don't feel rejected. I feel at peace. Not overly happy, not excited, not thrilled, just peaceful.

About a month ago, I noticed that at the bottom of my blog I had this quote from a Rich Mullins song: "I am home anywhere, if you are where I am." I want this to be true, and today, I'm starting to believe it.

good lyrics

I don't listen to a whole lot of Christian music these days, but I listened to these songs yesterday and the day before and I liked what they said to me, so I decided to post them.

"40 Acres" by Caedmon's Call

Out on these Texas plains you can see for a million lives
And there's a thousand exits between here and the state line
About the last time that I saw you
You said call me Pandora, call me a fool

And I'm thinking this view it could do you some good
So drop these scales and take a look

There's 40 acres and redemption to be found
Just along down the way
There is a place where no plow blade has turned the ground
And you will turn it over, 'cause out here hope remains
'Cause out here hope remains...

Out here the Texas sky is as big as the sea
And you're alone in your room like an island floating free
Your spirit's hanging in a bottle out on a tree
You say that you're the black sheep, I say you're still family

So throw that bottle to the waves
They'll bring you in to me and from the shore you will see

Out here the Texas rain is the hardest I've ever seen
It'll wash your house away, but it'll also make you clean
Now these rocks they are crying too
And this whole land is calling out for you

Definitely written by a band from Houston! I really do enjoy long drives out in the Texas countryside, because the sky is so big, and everything's wide open, it really does feel like there is hope and redemption to be found out here.

and

"Hush" by Waterdeep

When you feel like the days just drone on and on and on
and you feel like the nights are quickly gone

and on the inside your heart is gaping wide
and on the inside you feel like no one's on your side
well, I am

When you thought you could rest, but you found out you were wrong
And there's another need another battle
another one more thing that comes along

and on the inside
you hear the fall but you hate the falling sound
and on the inside
you can't pick another broken piece up off the ground
well I know

CHORUS

Hush little baby don't say a word
Daddy's gone and bought you a great big heaven to rest in
He's bought it with blood and put the seal in your heart
it'll give you the hope you need to get up and start again

when all the things you thought you left behind are still hanging on
and everything you try to do right ends up all wrong

and on the inside everyone else seems basically fine
but on the inside even they won't let go of the dead and cling to what's alive
well I AM



The first time I heard this about a year ago, almost exactly, I broke down crying, and listened to it on repeat until I felt better. It was really weird, I didn't even know that I needed to cry, but sometimes you hold back the tears too long that you forget they're there and then you need a good song like this to release it all.

He will rejoice over you with singing

"Sing, O Daughter of Zion;

shout aloud, O Israel!

Be glad and rejoice with all your heart,

O Daughter of Jerusalem!
The LORD has taken away your punishment,

he has turned back your enemy.

The LORD, the King of Israel, is with you;

never again will you fear any harm.

On that day they will say to Jerusalem,

'Do not fear, O Zion;

do not let your hands hang limp.
The LORD your God is with you,

he is mighty to save.

He will take great delight in you,

he will quiet you with his love,

he will rejoice over you with singing.' "

Zephaniah 3:14-17

Monday at a women's meeting with my church, those words were poured out over my friend Natalie. She described feeling oppressed by shame and fear, by lies that her family had told her, that were keeping her from experiencing God's love and affection from others. Praying over her, praying for freedom, praying against this oppression, was a truly beautiful experience. We prayed, we cried, we laughed, words of truth were spoken, metaphors were described, images were imagined, scripture was read, song lyrics were quoted. There's really no way to describe it. Just imagine, one small blonde girl sitting on her knees, crying, blowing her nose, and at least 20 other women, Arwens, unwilling to let our friend, our sister, be bound by darkness, as we prayed and spoke over Natalie about 20 minutes.

Through this experience of speaking healing and freedom into Natalie's life, I also found that freedom and life is being given to me as well. I suppose it's true, as one part suffers, all parts suffer, and as one part rejoices, all parts rejoice. I imagine that I wasn't the only one suffering, and the only one who left that meeting rejoicing. I woke Tuesday morning truly happy and full of life. This was the first day since the breakup that I was actually excited to wake up. I'd had pleasant dreams, dreams that were hopeful, and Andrew was in them, but I didn't miss him. He was there, but he didn't matter, and I woke up feeling like that could be possible, that exciting things are in store for me and that I will be free from missing him and feeling lonely.

Tuesday continued to be a great day. My classmate and I went down to Austin to see Feist in concert. The concert was incredible, and the whole afternoon/evening was a great escape. Even though it was a Tuesday night, it felt like a weekend, like a true vacation, and we were able to escape our school obligations for a few hours and really relax and enjoy ourselves.

My classmate also recently went through a breakup, and we dreamed about places we wanted to travel too and things that we wanted to do, and it got me really excited. I hadn't dreamed that way since I'd been dating Andrew. I had lots of dreams and excitement, but they all centered around him and how he could fit into my future. A lady at the women's meeting described how before she was married, she imagined taking all of her dreams and goals and placing them in a box and wrapping them as a gift. She knew that when she was married that she wouldn't have to throw away this box, but it would a gift that she could trust to her husband. She knew that God would provide her with someone who would take care of her dreams and goals. I really like that imagery. It's easy for me to be extreme and get caught up in the idea of being single and doing only what I want or of being married and surrendered to a husband and possibly giving up dreams, but I trust that God has someone for me who will cherish my dreams and help me fulfill them, and I don't have to fear giving them up because I'll be giving them over to someone I can trust.

In addition to the great concert and good time with friends, I came home from Austin with a bike! A couple of years ago, my mom gave me her old bike, but it was stolen. Lately, I've been thinking that I wanted a bike again, to ride for fun, and also I'm hoping to live closer to campus next year so I could possibly commute with it. My birthday's coming up, and I had even thought about asking for a bike for my birthday. My classmate and I picked up her friend Emily for the concert. Emily started talking about how she was getting a new bike, I mentioned wanting a bike, and she offered me her old one! It's a Hercules, made in England, and it's purple! It's such a girly bike - I absolutely love it! It needs some work, but I asked the men in my church small group about it, and there's a guy who really loves working on bikes, so he's excited to work on it! I'm really thrilled about it, it'll be great to start riding again. And did I mention it's purple? Remind me to post some pictures when we get it into shape.

Overall, it's been a really incredible week, but I've still had some hard times. I've been trying to figure out where to live and who to live with. I was considering buying a house, but a couple of weeks ago I decided against that. Last week, talking with a woman from my church about the breakup, I also started talking about housing, and we decided that it would be really good for me to live with some fellow church members. My roommates right now are ok, but we just don't connect, and I've never felt completely at home living where I live now. Like I've mentioned, I really want to connect with more women from my church and build female friendships, and I want to live somewhere that feels like a home. I think this would be really good for me, and I think it's what I need right now. I've talked with a couple of different sets of girls about it, but I'm still waiting for things to work out. Today, I got really frustrated, because things didn't work out with the first group of girls, and it may not work out with this second group. Both times, I got really emotional about it. I realize that I'm probably over reacting, but I'm hurt and lonely and I want so desperately for connect with others and I want something really good to look forward to! I've also realized that these feel a little like rejections. I just got a big rejection from Andrew, and then I felt rejected again when things didn't work out with the first group of girls. But they've assured me that it really just came down to the logistics and they want to continue to get to know me better and stay connected. I believe them, but I still have fear. I fear that because I'm no longer dating Andrew, that I'm going to lose these friendships I've started to build these past few months and just become distanced from these people. I know this isn't true, and people keep approaching me and telling me how they want to hang out, they want to stay connected to me, but I still have that fear. I fear being rejected again.

So, please pray for me about all of this. Pray that things will work out for me to live with some girls from church, pray that I'll really feel at home in my next place. Pray that I'll feel peace about this and be able to trust it to God without getting so emotional about it and without putting such high stakes on everything. Pray that I'll be free from these fears, pray that I'll continue to connect with others, and trust them. Pray that I won't be lonely, but that I will find good women to connect with during this time. And I have so much school work to do in the next three weeks, pray that I won't be distracted from that, but that I'll be diligent and get a lot done soon! My mom came to visit last weekend and that was really good, but I'm worried about this weekend. I have dinner plans on Friday and Saturday night, but most of the time I need to work on a big paper. I'm afraid that I'm going to get lonely, that I'm going to start thinking about Andrew and wondering what he's doing. Pray that I'll be free from that, that I'll just get absorbed in my paper and not worry about those things. I really am dreading this weekend, but I know that I shouldn't. It'll be a good time for me to be productive and to spend some time with the people here who I care about.

I started writing this post a couple of days ago, and there was more that I wanted to say, but I think this is enough for now.

belonging

Happy April Fool's Day! March has past, and I only wrote one blog entry that entire month. I guess spring break was pretty busy, and then things have stayed busy since I've been back at school. I'd like to write about what's been on my mind a lot, the ministry my church is starting with women at a strip club, me looking to buy a house and all of the uncertainty and excitement that goes along with that, my romantic relationship and how that's going, and all the things that my pastor is preaching about dating and what I'm learning through all of this.

But the truth is, I could probably start a post about one of those topics, and wouldn't finish it today. Maybe I'd finish it tomorrow, or maybe it would sit as a draft for weeks and those weeks would turn into months and suddenly it wouldn't seem relevant to post at all. Looking today, I have 6 posts drafts just from the past 4 months. 6 posts that were started, never completed, and all but abandoned. Maybe instead of starting something entirely new, I should resurrect these posts from the past few months. I've chosen the most complete one to breath some life into. It was written January 25th, 2008. This was just a couple of weeks into this spring semester. Here it is:



Belonging

A couple of days ago, I wanted to write about how I was feeling more at home here, and how good that's been. But since then, I've found some more loneliness creeping in. I'll give writing about good things a shot, and maybe I can recapture how I felt two days ago.

When I came to TCU as a freshmen, I dove in headfirst, meeting people, getting involved in organizations, even serving as a welcome-type person for one organization! In some ways I was your typical college freshmen, eager to do anything and everything. In other ways, I was atypical. I was confident in my eagerness, confident that I belonged here and would feel at home, confident that I could hang out with seniors and be accepted. I think because of this confidence, I was frequently mistaken for an upperclassman. I don't really remember feeling insecure that first semester. Another freshmen that year (who is know one of my closest friends) later told me that she was intimidated by me when we first met. "Wow," she thought, "This girl already knows so many people and has so many friends, why would she ever want to be my friend?" Fortunately, her assumption was wrong. Sometime halfway through that semester I realized that despite all the activities I was involved in, despite all of the people I had to hang out with, I didn't have a close friend. Realizing that I was missing this and that the seniors I had been hanging out with would soon be graduating, I started praying for a close friend that I could spend college with. God soon answered that prayer, and that girl who had first been intimidated by me became the friend that I can't imagine spending college without. My second year, I developed close friendships with other young women who I still try to remain close to.

In addition to these close friendships, I also valued all of my other friends and acquaintances at TCU. I've never been one to put myself in a bubble, and I knew lots of people on that small campus, and lots of people knew me. Walking from my dorm to class, I'd probably say "Hi" to at least 5 or 6 people I passed that I knew. One friend walking with me one day was really surprised by this, "Dang!" he exclaimed, "You know everybody here!" For my first three years especially, I loved this atmosphere. I felt right at home and felt a deep sense of belonging to this campus. Perhaps I'm idealizing this time, because I do remember individuals and groups of people that I wanted to feel more at home with, and that I wanted to get to know better, but never did. I did experience rejection during that time, and it hurt, but I always I had friends to fall back on and I never felt like I didn't belong.

When I first arrived at this new campus, with over 45,000 students, I doubted that I ever feel that same sense of belonging. The first few weeks were very strange, walking to work and class from my parking lot and only being met by strange faces. Finally, I'd arrive at work and be greeted by a familiar face. I would often think that I saw someone from TCU. Not close friends, just once of those acquaintances that I always enjoyed saying "Hello," to. On this campus, strangers often say, "Howdy," to one another when they make eye contact. At first I timidly responded if I responded at all, but now I respond with a smile and an enthusiastic, "Howdy!" or "Hello!" It's not the same as seeing a familiar friend, but just making a brief connection with another human is satisfying.



That was January 25th, this is April 1st. I was beginning to feel hopeful, beginning to feel like I could connect with others in this new place, beginning to feel at home. At that point, my friends from church, Travis and Amanda, and just started to invite me to hang out with them more, something they hadn't done at all last semester. I was beginning to feel more included, and meeting more people through my church. January 25th was the night of Travis' birthday party, when I first connected with Andrew, and saw a lot of life in him and wanted to get to know him better. Since that time, we've started dating, I've hung out a lot more with church friends and made lots of friends, mostly through Andrew, but I've also deepened relationships with people in my small group, gotten involved in a ministries that have led to more connection with women in my church, and have gotten to know more 2nd and 3rd years in my program better. Overall, I feel much more myself, much more comfortable, and feel like I belong both in my program and in my church. Even on campus, I see more familiar faces. Last week, there was one day when I saw three people I knew. Three people! This was huge, because usually it was exciting if I saw one person on campus that I knew. And to see three people, at different times, wow!

I'm feeling more at home here, and this is a really good thing. Still though, I spent a lot of Christmas break praying for a good Christian girl friend here. And, surprise! I got Andrew, which is great and wonderful and every day I'm thankful for what we have, but where's that girl friend I was praying for? I've met lots of girls through church, and couple of them I felt like I could really connect with, and maybe something more will happen with one of those friendships. It really does take time. I guess I could be more proactive, ask some of these girls to hang out instead of just waiting to see them at church events. I'm pretty proactive with spending time with families in my small group. Why is it easier to invite myself over to a family's house for dinner than to invite a girl to coffee or lunch? Maybe I'm used to friendships happening more naturally. Maybe I'm slightly prideful and want them to be asking me to do things. Maybe I'm complacent and stay busy and forget that I could use another person in my life. Part of me wonders if I need to a find a good close girlfriend here. I have Andrew, though I've never been one to substitute a boyfriend for friends. I do have lots of friends to hang out with, I'm never bored on the weekends, I have adults that I can turn to for good advice, and I keep in touch with a few of my close girl friends from back home and still turn to them and they rely on me too. Some of these close friends are going to come visit me over the summer, which will be awesome. Who knows. Maybe in three months I'll look back on this post and write a post that begins something like this:

"That was April 1st, this is July 1st. Back then, I felt like I was missing having a good girl friend, now I feel . . . "

climb every mountain

"Adventure can be a real happiness," read my fortune cookie this evening.

I like to think of grad school as my current adventure. Sure, I'm not traveling the world or even changing it (yet), but there are certainly elements of adventure in this undertaking. It's new, it's challenging, ever-changing, requires flexibility and initiative on my part, few undertake this, and sometimes it scares the shit out of me. If that doesn't sound adventurous, then I don't know what does.

I don't write this to brag, and those of you who know me well probably already realize this. I write this because sometimes I wonder what the heck I'm doing, and whether or not I'll make it. When I start having these doubts, reframing this crazy experience as an adventure helps. In less than two days, I return to the adventure. I've made it part of the way up the mountain; now it's time to grab my pack and continue climbing.




Note - Why was I never taken over by the irresistible urge to spin around Julie Andrews-style during my time in the Swiss Alps?

“Loved by God, kept by Christ.”

This and other scriptures have been my mantra the past few weeks. I have been having a rough time lately, feeling lonely, unloved, guilty, hurt, insecure, and yearning for the approval of others. I feel like I’m fighting these feelings, and intrusive thoughts, lies that pop into my head based on the things I listed. I’m fighting them with prayers and scripture. It’s like some sort of faith-based-self-induced-cognitive-behavioral therapy – I’m trying to restructure the maladaptive thoughts and belief system with the truth that I know is God’s word. And it helps. For example, when I start to feel guilty and ashamed, I remind myself, “There is therefore now no condemnation in Christ,” “Those who put their hope in Christ will never be put to shame,” and “As far as the east is from the west,” that’s as far as my sins are from God. The Spirit is freedom, and I don’t want to beat myself up about things that are already forgiven, I want to experience freedom and life.

And God’s grace is at work through this time. The scriptures I am reading are becoming so much more real to me. They’re not just things I think; they’re things that I experience. Somehow, for the most part, I feel at peace. I feel hopeful, and I feel that this is right where I should be. Though November has been lonely and sometimes sad, it’s better than the anxiety and confusion that was September and October. I can handle sad and I know that it will go away. Anxiety and doubts, I’m not really sure what to do with those. More tangible, external things are also happening. I have dear close friends and relatives who, while not here physically to take away my loneliness, have been only a phone call or email away, and have supported me, prayed for me, and talked me through my rough nights and mornings. While I’m new at my church and all of these people are new to me, I’ve started to become closer to them. I am starting to connect with them and feel at home. A couple of weeks ago, I shared with my small group the loneliness that I’m feeling, and they’re responding and I’m starting to experience through them this connection with others that I long for. I’m starting to really experience what it means for a church to be a community. It’s not perfect, these aren’t my new best friends just yet, but step by step, I’m experiencing the community that my heart desires.

I’m also trying to let go of my expectations of these new people in my life. I’m trying to not let my self-worth be determined by other’s approval. I do desire close friendship and connectedness, and I need more support here, but I’m trying to not be needy. When I go into situations when I’m around new friends and just release my expectations, and just try to love and enjoy them, well, it usually goes great, connections just flow naturally and I’m thankful for that.

I have been so focused on myself these past few months, but I want to love others more. I want to really, genuinely care about all of those around me. I want to step out from myself, step away from my trying to make myself better and happier and instead focus on giving to others and enriching their lives.

I have no idea how any of this sounds. However this comes across, writing this is more real to me than writing about being white. I have started writing a follow-up to my whiteness post, but today is not the day to finish it. I actually started writing this post Sunday evening, during a time that was probably a low point for the past couple of weeks. I am feeling better, and I know that in spite of the rough times I’m experiencing, I’m becoming more whole and more myself because of it.

awful feels softer

I'm glad you guys enjoyed my last post - thank you so much for the encouragement. The night I wrote it, I stayed up very late, talking online with friends, reading blogs about theology, and discovering a cool site where you can download 10-12 minute guided prayers to listen to on your mp3 player or computer.

That night, I listened to a "Review of the Day" guided prayer before going to bed. As the sacred music played, the soft voice of a British woman asked me to remember the gifts I was given this past day. My mind immediately went to Cara, whom I had called after finding out the bad news about the school earlier that day. The empathy she offered was a gift. I felt grateful and at peace, realizing that if I never experienced heartache and rejection, I would also lose the gift of empathy that my friends and family give to me when I'm hurting. I think that gift is beautiful enough to make enduring the heartache worth it.

Then, I entered my bathroom to get ready for bed. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. I just stood there grinning for a moment, believing that smile, feeling that everything was going to be good.

After getting ready for bed, I checked my email one last time. There, in my inbox, was an invitation from another school to come visit them in March! I just wanted to laugh at how up and down this process has been. I saw that the email had been sent at 10:30pm, and for a moment I wished that I had checked it earlier before I wrote that long post, pouring out my heartache. But on second thought, I realized how good it was for me to deal with this rejection without the glimor of hope from another school.

For about 12 or 13 hours, I was rejected and without any tangible hope. But God picked me up and gave me that smile. I hope I never forget that hope, that smile, that arrived at 2:30am on the evening of an awful day.

"If life's not beautiful without the pain,Well I'd just rather never ever even see beauty again."

Sorry, Modest Mouse, but I don't agree with you. Not this week, anyway.