Good 'ol Ma and Pop

We all resent our parents at one point or another growing up. Sometimes those things are never reconciled and that is an unfortunate case. However, my parents and I now have a great relationship. They trust me. I trust them. I involve them in my life and they treat me like an adult.

It's funny how much you learn from your parents after you move a few states away. Many, many times I have called my mom to tell her exactly how right she has been my entire life. I relearn their lessons on a daily basis: speak kindly, think before you open your mouth, listen to people that know more than you, listen to people in general, stay in church, find christian community, be a good friend to get good friends, etc. I am so blessed with the parents God gave me.

The most important thing my parents have taught me was never actually said. It's all in the way they live and love. Now, upon entering young adulthood, I can't help but start to daydream about marriage and my future family. Looking at the way my parents love each other and how they have made it 25+ years without calling it quits, I am truly amazed.

Even just the way they look at each other says so much. They have done their best at every turn to keep God as the center of their relationship and as the true head of our family. They sought wise counsel in the particularly rough patches and made sure that my siblings and I not only had good friends, but also adults that we could trust. They kept us in church and set an example of just how important it is to serve.

I am blown away by the way they so intentionally approached parenting. Now that I see it from a different perspective, I'm left speechless. (Not to mention, absolutely terrified that I'm going to be a horrible parent, haha). They payed attention to each of my three siblings and I individually and tailored their parenting style accordingly. Be it punishments, rewards, communication styles, or sense of humor, my parents realized that we were each our own little person and they didn't parent any of us the same way. I cannot even fathom how difficult that must've been.

Admittedly, my family still has issues. There still exist some bumps and bruises from my childhood that I have not completely healed from. However, as I get further away from my younger years, both in age and geography, I start to see why things happened. And I am so incredibly thankful for the grace that God gave my parents to act with. I begin to understand the things my parents hid from me and why. I also begin to understand the toll that life takes on people after a while and the importance of apologies.

Surely, I'm not done learning the wisdom that my parents showed me throughout my life. I'm most definitely not done being humbled by God and His way of showing me to listen to the warnings they gave, probably more than once. I am beyond grateful for the parents I got placed with and I did absolutely nothing to deserve them. I hope that I have a fraction of the parenting skill they have and even an ounce of the marriage they are both so devoted to. Here's to Mom and Dad

A Coffee Shop in Nashville

Sitting down in Nashville my heart is slow, my breath is light, and my spirit is content; peace comes over me and I know that this is where I belong.

Holding a warm cup of my favorite caramel drink, I feel at home. Music City creates an atmosphere of dreams and diversity. The most amazing array of people converge on this spot in pursuit of a lifetime aspiration or simply a good time and funny story to take home. This place is truly one of a kind.

The stories to be heard here, the times to be had here, the songs yet to be sung, and the friends yet to be made all compose the wonder of this town. I cannot wait to be swept up in it. Never before have I felt so called to be somewhere.

I can't help but let my mind dance with the thoughts of what God has for me here. Looking around at the life and color of the city bring a smile to my face and a glow to my eyes. This is my city. This is where I will thrive. This is where I will have the greatest times of my life. 

Walking its streets, I'm simply in awe of the One who brought it all to be. He reigns here. He has guided me to this place and made me capable of feeling the joy I have here. Whatever comes my way, I will stand secure in who He is and His purpose for me. I don't know what's in store, but I know the one who orchestrates all.

Sitting here, at a coffee shop in Nashville, adventure awaits me.

My Beginning to Forever

Here I am. Sitting in the place that I have dreamed of for almost four years now. It's so surreal.

It's been difficult: getting used to living seven hours from everything I know. I don't know many people and that's hard, being an extrovert.

It's odd seeing everyone walking around campus with their friends, knowing that I don't have that option yet. I know it will come, but until it does I'll just be sitting under this tree, watching others' lives go by.

I'm excited! I really am. But, I also kind of just want a hug from a friendly face. I'd never understood the significance of being fully known until the last couple days. I know that friends will come and I will be established eventually. I've been trying to get out and go meet people and spend time with new roommate.
For some reason I just keep crying.

I'm not homesick. Don't get me wrong, I love home. I miss my friends and family! But, my heart is content here. I desire to be here.

I think I'm mourning the loss of everything I knew. I haven't lost it of course: I will keep up with my friends and family and come visit. But the dynamic of everything in the Midwest in relation to my life has drastically changed. It won't ever be the same again. It won't ever be home again.

I'm building my home.

Change. I've always heard that no body likes change: that we are all creatures of habit. I think I disagree. I think we long for change, we just let ourselves mourn our loss. This is not wrong. We need to mourn. But, we also need to move forward.

So I move forward. I walk out of my dorm (making sure I lock the door behind me;). remembering where I've been and looking forward to where I'm headed.

"How lucky am I to have something that makes saying good-bye so hard."

In less than 48 hours I will be saying goodbye to the town where I have spent my entire life up to this point. I've been climbing the walls to get out of here since I can remember! Up until my junior year of high school I didn't know what my future destination would be, I just knew it would be far from here. If I never see a corn stalk again it'll be too soon. When I discovered my passion for music and my knack for selling t-shirts ;), I knew that Nashville is where I belonged. And I haven't shut up about it since!

I thought that I would pack up and never look back: ready to take on whatever life had to throw at me, as long as it didn't include the Midwest. Of course I love my family! They're great! I will definitely make time to see them and continue to invest in their lives. However, I didn't have many close friends in the area so family was the only thing here for me... that is until my freshman year of college.

Last night I found myself weeping during worship at my last service with my companions from my first year of college. They have walked through life with me this past year and have shown me what true community is about. Don't tell any of them this, but I seriously reconsidered staying here so I could continue this journey with them:). But, my heart longs for Tennessee and it is my dream!

My Campus Church (now Encounter) family will always hold a special place in my heart. Doing ministry with them this past year has truly humbled me and opened my eyes to what being the church really means. Each and every one of them lives knowing the truth that God is with them and it shows. They are a light in the darkness of every college campus in this town (and that's a lot of campuses!).

You are the people that I will tell my children about when they head off to college. You are the friends that I will always share a special bond with. Yours are the memories I reminisce on when I'm feeling disconnected. You, the people holding me up, are the only reason I made it through this last year standing. You made this sojourner feel at home in a difficult transition year. And yours are the photos hanging on my dorm room wall.

My heart is heavy leaving them, but my head is held high knowing that we will be together again. If it's not Christmas break then it will be Heaven:).

Thoughts on Thinking

I've recently discovered a great respect I have for talented thinkers. Of course, we're all thinkers! But we're not all C.S. Lewis-es  or Einsteins. It seems that some people have discovered how to use their brains in a better way than the rest of the world. Becoming a better thinker is an aspiration that I have found myself longing after. 

To me, being a talented thinker means to be able to hold conflicting ideas in ones head simultaneously while seeing the validity in each. It means to have a thirst for a deeper understanding of, well, everything. It means being able to hold up ones side of an intellectually challenging conversation. On those same lines of communication, thinking well means to be able to convey ones thoughts and ideas in an way that is received well by audiences. It means not letting ones brain go idle.

I aspire to be a better thinker. I want to be better informed about the world around me. I want not only to know a lot, but to be able to put that knowledge to use in a meaningful way. I want to be able to play with ideas in my head and come up with answers and ideas that rely on other peoples work, but also contain a hint of the capability of  my brain.

My high school world history teacher once told that at this point in time there are no original thoughts left. Everything that I have ever thought about, debated, written, or spoken has been thought about, debated, written, and spoken before. Total bummer, right? I simply don't understand how that can be even close to true. There is so much left unknown about, well, everything. And if there are still things that we have yet to discover, does that not leave things that we haven't  thought about, debated, written, and spoken? I'd like to think that there is still mystery left on this planet.

In pursuit of my goal, I have come up with some things that I believe will lead to bettering the quality of my thinking. Reading and writing are powerful tools for this. They engage the brain in many ways. Reading is a great way of collecting knowledge and writing is a great way of conveying knowledge. Those concepts are pretty easy to pick out, but take time and discipline to develop. I've also discovered that listening is a really helpful technique for becoming a better thinker. I have room to grow in all of these areas, but listening is especially difficult for me. It's a skill I'm still learning.

I really admire people that posses the self-discipline it takes to skillfully think as a lifestyle. This goal is not one that can be achieved necessarily, it 's more a matter of consistently growing in it. I look forward to figuring out what my brain is capable of doing.


 

The Waiting Room

"Experience is a brutal teacher, but you learn. My God do you learn". - C.S. Lewis

Waiting to be delivered from a rough spot is one of the hardest periods of life. We constantly cry out to God: "Where are you?!", "Help me!", "Can you hear me?", "When will this end?".  There always seems to be something that we are waiting on God for. This is not a bad thing, we are called to be dependent on God. It's just that waiting really sucks.

Waiting for healing, for redemption, for the end of a bad life storm: These waiting periods leave us scared because it's bad and we don't know how it's going to end. Not knowing and not feeling like we're in control is absolutely terrifying.

God is in control. Always. No question. And he is faithful. Always. No matter what. These are the things I do know. Even in the waiting, I still know He is good.

When a child gets scared, he runs behind his mother's legs and clings on for life. He doesn't know what's going to happen, but he knows that his mom loves him and she will take care of him.

We are God's children. He loves us and he will take are of us. When I can't count on my friends, I can count on God's companionship. When I can't count on my strength, I can count on God's redemption. When I can't count on my plans to work out, I can count on God's sovereignty. When I can't count on the sun coming up, I can count on God's faithfulness. When I can't count on tomorrow, I can count on God's eternity.

The thing I'm learning is that I don't need to know. I don't need to have the answers. I follow a good Shepard and he will not let me wander from the path. The things I do know surpass those that I don't. Easier said than done, I know. But, I'm learning: leaning on the one who holds me.

"...God is greater than my heart and He knows everything". 1 John 3:20b

The Truth About My Anxiety

Anxiety alters my reality.

No two people see the world the same way, but for people who have anxiety disorders, it's a whole different story.

I don't know exactly when anxiety began to be prevalent in my life, but looking back I see where it was creeping in. Then, about a year ago, I was diagnosed with a disorder.

I just thought I was going crazy! What, with all the panic attacks and the constant, reeling thoughts.
People would tell me, "it's all in your head". And they are right. That's the problem.

The hard thing about anxiety is that it is 'all in your head'. For example: With a broken bone, the diagnosis is easy and everybody knows what's going on and they know how to help. Same with the flu, everybody knows how it feels and they all have a favorite mother's remedy to give you. But, with anxiety (or depression), it's not that simple.

You see, often times people with these disorders get really good at hiding it. So they seem to function like a "normal" person. That is until something triggers it. And then suddenly everything changes: little things become harder, daily tasks are not in the realm of possible, and fear is lurking in every corner of the mind. When this is going on, it's all I can think about. It's almost impossible to see beyond the walls closing in on me. Some days, getting out of bed is my only victory.

When anxiety gets triggered, no one around knows how to help unless they've been there before. And those people just know there's no way to help. If you've never seen someone having a panic attack, it can be horrifying: hyperventilating, crying, shaking. I don't blame anyone for being scared by seeing one of my attacks. Recently, I had one that sent me to the ER. When my mom found me, I was in the fetal position and my fingernails had turned blue because I wasn't breathing.

This is something that is not within my control. It is not something I have learned how to fight yet. I will get there.

I usually don't know what will trigger a panic attack. Sometimes it will get triggered and then the next time that very same thing won't trigger it. It's a hard way to live. Medicine has to be tweaked over and over again until just the right combination can be found for my body specifically.

Two things about anxiety and depression must be understood: 1. They are real. 2. They are medical conditions. Ignorance of these two facts is not an excuse for treating someone with these disorders like any less of a human being. We don't bite. It's just a little bit harder for us sometimes. We don't belong in the psych ward.

Don't get me wrong. My life, even with anxiety, is not the worst. Everybody struggles. And we all struggle differently. This should also be understood. Tolerance is something we often lack as a society.

For a while I viewed taking medication everyday as a bad thing. I often thought, "Why do I have to do this to be normal? Why do I need help to function properly?". Then I realized, we all need help to function properly. We all have to do daily maintenance. We all need water everyday and food. I just happen to have a few pills added onto that list and I'm not alone on that one.

Anxiety is something I struggle with. It does not control my life. It will not take me over. It will not win.

These past few weeks have been a whirlwind for me. I have been sent home from work several times. I have either been late to class or skipped it all together. I cannot complete a homework assignment without my mom sitting next to me or I'll have a panic attack. Being alone is not an option. And on the spiritual side of things, (this is the hardest part) nothing Jesus related is resonating with me right now.

Like I said, anxiety alters my reality. My friends keep telling me to press in and pray hard. This is good advice, but for some reason it doesn't make much sense to me right now. I know in my head that Jesus is the only option. I know that He is bigger than this. I know that He has already won. But there's some days I can't bring myself to believe it. Opening my bible is a tiring and frightening task. However, I'm being honest about where I'm at.

It's not wrong to struggle. I believe with every fiber of my being that this is temporary. Even if it lasts the rest of my earthly life, it cannot follow me to eternity. And I'm trying. I'm trying so hard! I'm just not there yet. I will learn and I will get better.

The New York Experiance

For my first ever college spring break I went on a mission trip with my church. We hit the streets of New York City for a week to talk to people, pray with them, and most importantly, get them connected with Jesus.

I'd never been to the Big City before. I'd also never been on a mission trip. In preparation for this trip, all team members had to go to "story training" to learn techniques for effectively spreading the gospel. No matter how many times I looked through those booklets and practiced asking the questions, nothing could have prepared me for what God was going to do that week.

I met actors, business men, college students, homeless people, atheists, agnostics, passionate Christ followers, people that just weren't sure, and everyone in between. That combination of people makes for a pool of interesting stories and that's exactly what I got. God is teaching me how to listen.

I love to talk and I love to be heard, but I am not the only one with a good story. I don't always have to be the one making everyone laugh, or the one that's giving advice, or the one that's talking about my obstacles. It's important to share life with the people around you! I realized that they knew so much about me and loved me so well, but I had not often enough taken the time to listen to them and learn more about them so I could be a better friend for them. It's not about me.

During the week, there was one day in particular where our group was wandering around Washington Square Park in pairs engaging the people that happened to be there. My partner and I ran into two young ladies who were taking a poll about the environment of the park. We got to talking to them about their thoughts on our four worldview questions that were designed to lead into a conversation about Jesus (How do you think it all began? What's wrong with the world? Is there any hope? And what does the future hold for you when your time on earth is done?). One of the girls had an interesting answer to the second question and I wanted to inquire more about it. When I began to talk, my partner said "just wait". Of course he wasn't being mean. He thought I was going to go into the story of Jesus before we were done asking the questions. It was just a misunderstanding between us, but that was the moment when I realized my tendency to dominate conversation. My comments are not the most important.

Learning to listen is one of the most valuable things I've learned in college so far. I don't have it down yet: interrupting is a bad habit of mine. I also like to turn conversations back to me. I'm practicing listening:) And practice makes perfect!

I got to first hand witness God moving and working in our world during my time in NYC. He is such a BIG and loving God. He designed every moment of the universe and of our lives to bring that group of 31 people together for the sole purpose of bringing him glory. Impenetrable bonds were formed among the team and we all left impacted. It's safe to say we will never be the same people we were stepping onto that plane in Midway Airport.

The Story Wall

Last week I had an amazing opportunity to work a story wall on my campus.


This story wall was a place for people to come and share bits and pieces of their lives with willing and ready to listen volunteers. Three themes arched this past week: thankfulness, struggles, and hopefulness. Each day my companions and I would ask a new question and tell the participants to write down their answer and tell a story about it. They got a free piece of candy in return and we received a collection of words and phrases that represented the hearts of those who wrote them.

For me specifically, this was a learning experience. I'm learning about the value of people. I see these people in the halls and in class almost every day, but it becomes the norm to ignore them and hang out with the people I've already befriended. These people don't simply exist when I see them. They have a background, struggles, celebrations, and a future and they are desperately wanting to  be heard.

Of course some people didn't want to participate and some only told goofy stories so they could get free candy, but even those stories said a lot about the person. I stood there for a few hours each day listening to people talk about what's going on in their worlds! Some people didn't even want candy, they just wanted to tell us a story. Everything from kidney transplants, to stories about Afghanistan, to pets, to a plethora of young men that were especially thankful for their mothers.

My favorite story (not that I'm choosing favorites;) was that of an older Chinese man. He didn't speak English very well, but he still wanted to tell us all about his new granddaughter. He also told my friend Laura and I about his journey as a Christian in China. "Church?! That means you love Jesus?!" This is what he exclaimed when we told him the wall was set up by a campus ministry we were a part of! To hear someone be this excited about the presence of the church on campus made the whole experience that much more meaningful. We were there to encourage people, but we ended being so blessed by our conversation with this particular man. We were able to hear about his baptism and his daughters faith and influence on his. He left to go back to China this month, but his story is one that I will not forget.

Everyone has a unique story to bring to the world. Everyone has friends, hard times, funny childhood memories, and aspirations. All stories hold significance. Every person matters infinitely to God and simply by that fact, every person should matter infinitely to me as well. This experience taught me how to listen better and care better for people. I'm not generally one for small talk. Every time I have a conversation with someone, I like to walk away knowing one more thing about them than I did when the conversation began. I was able to exercise that and meet some awesome new people. The story table was a very humbling experience that opened my eyes to lives and stories that were different than mine.

Why I Love to Write

Writing is a release. 


Something happens when the jumbled thoughts in your head become a coherent story on a piece of paper or a computer screen. You begin to figure things out: things about yourself, your situation, life in general. It all starts to make sense. Even if no one were to read it, there's something empowering about knowing an audience has the ability to understand what's going on in your head. 

I've been writing for as long as I can remember: poems, stories, journals. I was the typical little girl with my journal hidden under my mattress. It sat there for years. Some nights I would spill my secrets and others I wouldn't touch it. As I grew older my writing changed, it went from secrets and crushes, to the complaints of a disgruntled preteen, to daily chronicles, to real life happenings, prayers, notes, everything. 

I faithfully return to writing whenever I venture off for a month or so. It's how I organize myself. It's how I deal with whatever life hands me, or rather hurls at me. It's how I focus my thoughts. The mind is an easy place to get lost in and I have yet to find a gas station that sells that map. Finding my way out can be calming. When I feel trapped, I take to the pen and tell the pages what it's like in here -- while unraveling the nonsense the first time for myself as well. 

Writing is the only thing that truly grants do-overs. I can mess it up until I get it right and my journal will except every attempt -- in full. The backspace button is undoubtedly the best invention. Once pressed, the letters are gone forever, never to be seen again (unless you hit the undo button -- also a great invention). 

Words don't always do the job. We've all been at a spot where there is no way to express the emotion welling up in our chests. However, words can help. Crafting, mending, twisting, refining them until it's exactly what needs to be heard by others. 

Writing provides an avenue to be heard. This is a desire in all of our hearts: simply to be heard. Every story counts. I just tend to write mine out.

My writings have the potential of being a catharsis of emotion crying out to God or a simple thank you accompanied by a list of reasons why my day was great, and anywhere in between. I love writing and sharing my stories.