routine

So, I run frequently.
Normally it’s somewhere around 5 days a week.

I get asked if I enjoy it, and I say yes, but truly it’s quite complicated.
When I start a long run, I begin by anticipating this thing my ankles do right when I get going--its like they give out for a second and its painful, but it happens quickly and passes, then I am good for another ten minutes. Somewhere in the middle of the second mile I want to stop very badly, but instead I suck it up and finish, then I keep going anywhere from 3 to 5 miles and everything is pretty steady, including the pain, but it feels good. Then about 15 yards from my stopping point, things get rough. I just want to die a little, but instead, I sprint. I book it until I’m breathing so hard I could give Darth Vader a run for his money.

I usually run around the track of the football stadium at night. I have gone to one game in the past two years, so I figure I should visit it often during its off-season to let it know I still care. Plus, there are always ultimate Frisbee players out as well, which makes me feel safer at night.

So, back to the last sprint.
When I finish I know you are supposed to walk or “cool-down”
Well, whatever. I just collapse.

And here is the part I love.
I lie there staring at the stars.
I’m in this state of exhaustion/euphoria right before the endorphins kick in and when I stare upwards, if I focus my eyes the right way, it feels like I am balancing the night sky on the tip of my nose. As if I have to be careful how hard I breathe otherwise things might slip off balance.

This is the moment I find God so frustratingly close I can hardly stand it.
So close, in fact, that I feel like we are having an invisible staring contest.
So close that I don’t find it ridiculous to ask him to give me a quick tour of space
and even promise that I would keep it a secret.
So close that I don’t have much to say so I just sigh and hope he understands it
So close that I am able to see for a split second the shortness of the 80 years or so I have on this earth and beg for it to go quickly or for Him to come back sooner.

Then the moment passes and I get distracted by being able to see my own breath
and get too cold to lie there any longer,
look at my watch and tell myself its late
So, I get up slowly and jog back home.
and do the same thing the next day

and no matter how many times that moment happens
there is nothing that feels routine about it.

Lately, I live my life

through window light
eating cereal
in running shoes
timing miles
disciplined
paying attention
enjoying classes
writing lesson plans
feeling secretly nervous
laughing at myself
learning how to live with other people
learning to listen to wordless conversations
praying fervently
staring at beautiful spots of light
trying to explain it
traveling on weekends
riding a bicycle
drinking coffee
reading in quantities equivalent to the amount of coffee I drink
getting lost in books and mourning the end of them
staring at my dust covered journal
reattaching my bible cover several times a week
daydreaming
nightdreaming
waking up early
taking walks
turning off lights
asking questions
receiving answers
on pinterest
looking through a lens
pretending I know what I’m doing
sifting through memories
watching things turn black and white
watching things develop

Awkward Sleepover Situations

So, I recently moved into a house with two other girls.

Katy and Caitie. (Yeah, I know, life gets confusing)

Caitie decided to paint her room, and to do such, she had to take everything out and at night she would take my roommate Katy's bed while Katy slept in mine with me. I've always had my own full sized bed, so I wasn't exactly used to someone else in it. Over the course of the week, I took note of all of the things that would happen in the course of the night. And these are just a few of the common situations I woke up to, or found myself in.

Lets start off with a classic.

Some people have no sense of spatial relationships and really struggle to sleep in a position that is normal to everyone else. They start out straight, but then somehow subconsciously move into a diagonal position, leaving you the option of having a hand in your face and your feet touching theirs, or curling up into the tiny triangle left for you on the bed. I chose the triangle.

and then there is...

I'm pretty sure this happens to everyone. I always face outward when I sleep and for some reason there is a magnetic pull to the middle of the bed. And if there happens to be someone else there. Well, this happens. Sometimes you can inch away before the other person wakes up, but if you wake up simultaneously, it can get awkward.

also, closely related to the butt touch...

Yeah.. Waking up because you can feel the breath of the other person hitting your face. Not ok.

and this is my personal favorite.

I was always the last to fall asleep at sleepovers growing up. I'm that girl who turned off the movie in the end because I was the last one awake. I always could figure out who snored, or drooled, or... sleep talked. My favorite is trying to carry on conversations with the person.

Try it.

and then last, but definitely not least

No sense of spatial awareness asleep AND awake. Sometimes they are subtle, inching towards you slowly... other times they are completely shameless and carelessly grab your arm and cuddle it like a teddy bear. Thats the approach my roommate likes to take, as shown above.

Eventually the room got painted everyone went back to normal (and to their own beds) but I must say, it made for an entertaining week.

simple

I haven't written in quite some time. Mainly from lack of time, but also from lack of event. But, alas, there have been changes.

I have recently moved into a house with two other girls. Its yellow. and its a completely new concept for me to live with friends. The place still feels somewhere in between familiar and home. It leans towards one or the other depending on the time of day. Overall, life feels simple. I tend to overcomplicate times of simplicity. I assume that I don't have the ability to just be still. I am so used to dealing with waves of challenges that I go in search of them. They make for some very witty and metaphoric blog material. but today I will accept it. I am still and simple.

...My biggest problem is agreeing with my roommate on a color to paint the bathroom

...It may take a while.

Oh. here are my roommates.

We soaked our tired summer feet laughing and discussing shampoo and nose rings.

temporary insomnia

It is an untimely hour for me to be awake.

I've become less of a night owl over the past few months.

I've tried to pretend like I still am a few times and I always pay for it later.

but here I am, at 2:32am, wide awake.

I tried sleeping, but I couldn't get comfortable.

I turned in to at least twenty different positions

before giving into one that still didn't feel right.

then I started thinking too much.

the words, thoughts, and pictures of my mind started to press in on my eyelids.

everything felt way too close, I stiffened and felt as though I needed breathing room.

is it possible for your brain to become claustrophobic?

I thought I was going to be crushed by own consciousness, so I quickly opened my eyes.

I could breathe easy again

my medium sized room felt like a huge open field

dark with the moon coming in through the blinds.

I didn't want to shut my eyes again.

So, here I am, at 2:41, wide awake.

I guess this is what I get for reading fiction before bed.

Oh, its July.

If it were not for the fourth, I wouldn't have realized another month has passed.

I live in overnight bags and fall asleep reading books

I'm attached to my backpack, and almost always 5 minutes late for countless coffee dates.

I get up early for staff meetings, and stay up late planning for bible studies

I eat cereal out of mugs on the drive to work, and then sometimes cereal again for a late dinner.

I spend just about all my time with high school students, or married people with toddlers.

I honestly enjoy every minute of it. It gets hectic, and sometimes I feel like I run around kind of mindlessly, but I love where I am at. I am learning more than I have time to realize. I assume that most of it will click sometime in October.

The best way I can describe it is like driving.

Taking mindless right turns on some form of auto-pilot

I find myself halfway down the highway and I don't even remember going up the on-ramp.

In the same way, I am finally letting the Lord take me where I am going

My focus has shifted from tracking mileage to appreciating the landscape

Focusing on Christ rather than worrying about the details of the journey.

I am enjoying July.

Flashback

This morning I listened to Brooke Fraser. I wore out her album last year. I practically had it on repeat all last summer. It always reminds me of my trip to Africa. I am really missing those kids today. Sweet Matthew was always singing, so I made him sing on camera for me.

8 Newly Discovered or Desired things

1. Grapefruits. I have half of one every morning for breakfast nowadays.

2. Pinterest. Its addicting.

3. Kitchenaid Mixer. Never in my life have I desired a kitchen appliance, until now.

4. Polaroids. I just bought film for my camera. I can't wait to use it.

5. Acrylic Ink. My new friend paints with it. I'm going to be a copy cat.

6. Freestanding bathtubs. Someday, I want one in my house.

7. Mexican Firebushes. My host family just planted some in the backyard. BEAUTIFUL.

8. Baby Pandas. I really want one. Really.

a civil war

I woke up a few mornings ago to find that I had fallen asleep with the lamp on.

On rare occasions I decide to rest my eyes with a book in hand and thus is the result.

I also love to leave the blinds open.

So as I opened my eyes I found myself between two different types of light

conflicting elements hitting different shoulders.

at war it seemed, with myself as the unclaimed territory; the bed the battlefield.

I feel as though my heart is at war also.

maybe not war, that seems too intense,

but rather at odds.

pulling in different directions.

holding multiple opinions.

toying with ideas that are purposed similarly

but in fact are worlds different.

much like sunlight and tungsten.

I can see the light from both sides.

but things begin to blend in the middle.

how do you separate light from light?

I assume just pray for the Spirit to bring clarity.

Watching Dust Settle

my creativity seems to be at a halt, so this is mainly going to be straight experience. If you are lucky, I will throw in a metaphor or two.

I am in a half full Starbucks in the middle of Kingwood, Texas.
In a little less than an hour, I will head over to church and start setting up.

I feel caught up for the first time in give or take six months.
I am not procrastinating with schoolwork
I am not suppressing feelings
I’m not impatiently waiting to get to the next place.

I am here.
Settled, not just physically, but overall.
the irony is that of all of the places I will live this year,
this will be the most temporary.

I feel that I am at a standstill.
watching all this dust that has been kicked up float in clouds back to the ground.
most of it I kicked up myself.
out of surprise, anxiety, and my tendency to jump the gun.
and unfortunately, sometimes out of straight rebellion.
Now that the picture is a bit clearer
I’m reevaluating some of my actions.

Yesterday I was at a cookout.
There was a two year old there.
Very sweet little boy.
He was eager to swim.
Naturally, his parents kept a close eye on him and frequently reminded him that he was not to go towards the pool until Daddy was there to get in with him.
As we were all sitting and eating,
after a few denied pleas to get in the pool
he squirmed from his moms lap and made a b-line for the water.
his little feet had barely hit the water before his dad scooped him up.
His dad informed him that he was to sit in timeout with mom for a while.
In agony, he waited for what seemed to him eternity,
he cried and got angry, he tried to squirm out again.
Then came time for the daddy talk.
Although I do not know the content of this conversation,
I watched it from afar and contemplated on similar conversations.

This dad loves his son dearly.
dearly enough to keep him as far away from getting hurt as humanly possible.
deep enough to keep him safe even when the son is angry and doesn’t understand.
enough to take time to discipline him.
and despite misbehavior, that I’m sure is happens everyday,
(as with all toddlers)
Dad loves him.
Dad provides for him.
Dad even gives beyond need and blesses the son with what he wants.

God and I have a similar relationship.
as I cannonball into forbidden water,
God continues to provide.

and as the ripples smooth
and as I get older
the more it makes absolutely no sense to me why he would do this.
the more I wonder why he isn’t taking everything away.
the more I hate my own sin
the more I am in awe of unconditional love.
the more I come to the conclusion that there is no conclusion that will make sense to my finite mind.

as much as I would like to squirm out of my fathers lap,
out of shame and guilt,

it is impossible to escape from the love that I am wrapped in.

dust settles around me.
and the mess blows somewhere east.
If I sit here long enough,
He will eventually show me what He intends for me,
I just need to be still enough to see it.

in the midst

When I think back on things
I usually catch glimpses of in betweens.
where my mind had the time and space
to capture moments and store them for later
as reference points.

in between classes, in transit, often hurry
catching details: leaves, squirrels, purple shirts
walking, sometimes running, upstairs and downstairs,
and getting turned around in a building I should know by now.
Time filled with reminders, library books,
and to-do lists on the palm of my hand

in between lines of scripture
in the turn of pages and the smoothing of creases
where a pause became unexpected, but much needed stillness
in the throws of flesh and spirit,
with fatigue and hunger for a God
whom I know I should have listened to more often.

In between places
with maps and hand written directions
204, 59, 69, 20
where the sun rose and set on Hawaiian seat covers
where I sang loudly and cried occasionally
because sometimes travel felt more like home.

In the middle of afternoons
between meal schedules I never could follow
where time was judged by the light through windows
where coffee was welcomed
where moments of tension didn’t quite match the scenery.
Holding chapstick, car keys, and sometimes my breath
waiting on a chance meeting, or lunch date, but wanting a nap

In those few hours where days overlap
where 1am felt more like 13pm
where conversations were longer
beckoned by moonlight, rolling through stoplights.
and laughs with silly, tired, friends were deeper,
because everything was funny and no one knew why.

And here again I approach another
this may be it,
I’m almost certain.

Another time in the middle of then and now:
missing people who haven’t left
loving ideas that haven’t quite developed
dreading struggles not yet identified
placing objects where other objects still lie
reclaiming territory piece by piece

my heart is making a leap towards Summer,
ripping away from a Spring that I don’t even remember,
because I spent so much of its time deciphering a long Autumn.

because this is my life
continually split into thirds
little room to breath or remember
but, alas, I move on

I collect these moments
and pocket them for later.

Too bad it doesn't work like this...

Standing on the Edge of Something Large

So I’ve just embarked on a new year of my life.
It’s making me more contemplative, obviously.
I spent the last seconds of being nineteen doing laundry and having a conversation about noncommittal socks (those things never want to stay together).
I think part of getting older is that every mundane task suddenly has life application.
Birthday weekend was wonderful. No real agenda. That’s my favorite.

Sunday I decided to take a Sabbath.
I slept in late, then woke up and spent a long time in scripture
I read through the end of Matthew
Passover, Betrayal, Arrest, Denial, Crucifixion, Death, Burial, Resurrection
suddenly, nothing else mattered.
I was heavy, but in a humbled way, not a painful way.
When aware of something so large, everything else seems so trivial.
It’s like trying to stand on the edge of the Grand Canyon,
then boast about the pain and joy of your year.
You just aren’t going to do that.
You are going to stand there in awe of what’s in front of you.

When I’m so fully aware of the cross
The only appropriate response is to be still
I find it so frustrating that this does not happen as often as it should.
Because as a believer I become so issue driven.
Let me explain.
I have this consuming desire to fix my problems;
a desire to become disciplined.
a desire to over-spiritualize answers
a desire to overcome everything

And over time I’ve made myself believe that I’m caught in this huge catch-22:
I can’t gain Christ without discipline
I can’t gain discipline without Christ.

BUT reality is that the first line of the statement above is not true.
there is no need to gain what I already fully have.

I’m just now seeing that this is just some kind of twisted legalism I’ve held myself under.
I have taken my eyes off of the objective evidence of God's love for me.
There is no level of performance or perfection I have to reach to be accepted by the Lord
The only way sin, fear, and doubt, lose their power,
is when JESUS becomes more lovely than the thought of overcoming the sin, fear, and doubt

I claim this incredible freedom of the Cross,
but still am in bondage trying (on my own accord)
to unravel my mess and make myself presentable to the Lord.
Now does that make any sense?
No. Because CHRIST is the only reason God can even look in my direction.
I am covered.

So rather than pursue discipline for Christ.
Its time to pursue Christ.
there is a massive difference.

Self Portrait

A time, a place, a state of heart,
an ever fleeting work of art.
I love, I lose, I fall apart,
You pick up pieces; recapture, restart.

Desire to stay, desire to go,
But still, desire, I hardly know.
So torn between the things I claim,
The things that I want; such a selfish game.

Within this flesh I lie awake,
But dead to it, yearning, I wait.
I am at home; home I am not
A relative term (that’s what I’ve been taught).

Use me, love me, and know me still
Despite what I want, I do want your will.
While I am here, here I am yours
So today, it is you I will choose to adore.

The Carls

This is only a third of them, but I'm obsessed with this family.

Sisters

brothers

Zach

Amy

Unacknowledged Resemblance

The Experiment

A Journal Misplaced (Hyperbole and a Half Tribute)

It was Sunday night. I was driving home from an evening of

Crosspoint and hanging out with friends.

Content. Reflecting on my weekend. Enjoying the car ride. Even singing some.

Suddenly, I glanced over to my passenger seat

and noticed that not everything had made its way back into my car.

Purse, Check. Phone, Check. Bible&Journal...

NOT THERE.

I was slightly worried

I couldn't remember leaving it anywhere, but surely it was somewhere safe.

I decided to worry about in the morning.

So that next morning

I remembered that I had probably left it at my friends house.

The yellow house.

Nice girls live there.

I love them.

I expected to walk in and it be there on the table.

Unfortunately, this was NOT the case.

It went a little something like this.

I then immediately checked all the alternative places it could possibly be.

Sad and defeated, I left the house and got back in my car.

While in my car, I realized that this was bigger than just not having my journal.

This means that my journal was floating out there somewhere!

All those secret thoughts and words!

Likely to fall in the hands of strangers.. or even friends!

I sat there, letting fear overtake my mind.

I became quite distraught.

And although I wish I could tell you this has a happy ending,

Unfortunately, that is not the story my friends.

My journal is still somewhere out there.

Helpless, scared, and alone.

two truths and a lie(s)

It is a nice little game I play every morning when I wake up
it goes like this.
3 options. Two true. One not. Now figure it out.

truth #1: the gospel. Jesus. Who Christ is, what he has done, the overarching truth. It never fails; it never changes. I can always identify it and I don’t doubt it.

truth #2: the truth about me. the truth about: who I am in Christ, where I am with Christ, where He wants me, how He values me, what He has placed in me, the way He has made me to glorify Him.

lie #1: the lie about me. The lie about: who I am, where I should be, where my value lies, how I don’t measure up, the state of my heart. It’s more than one lie. It’s usually multiple lies. Satan’s the author and he is terribly convincing.

Now…

Truth #1 is hardly doubted, its a constant.
then there is a choice to make between Truth #2 and Lie #1. They aren’t usually labeled like this, so deciphering them is difficult. Most days I try to make the choice on my own:

comparing the two,

drawing conclusions,

making assumptions,

all from my own wisdom.

Sometimes I’m wise enough to guess correctly.

sometimes, I’m not.

Actually, most times, I’m not.

BUT there is a trick to this game

and its the fact that it isn’t a game at all

it was never meant to be

because God is not sneaky

he does not hide answers.

nor does he hold truth out of reach.

the trick is focusing on truth #1


committing, exploring, questioning, seeking, and loving the truth I KNOW
first and foremost.

because here is the deal:
the other two options, the truth and lie,
are mostly about me.

and if just finding the answer is my focus

then the truth I know, the truth of Christ, will slowly fade out of focus,
making me the focal point.

making me apathetic towards what is now the blurred background

starved for my own satisfaction
making myself the root of my joy

looking for my own answers
Honestly, getting nowhere.

but if I burrow in Christ,

burrow in this overarching truth,

then somewhere buried within love,

when I am waist deep in mercy,
humility, and surrender;
glorifying the one who is MORE than worthy of this time I’m wasting looking for something else.

it is THERE that the other truth I am looking for is found.
and it will creep in unknowingly; its entrance will hardly be noticed.
I won’t realize that I now have what I was previously looking so hard for

because I will be so focused on Christ it doesn't matter.
and that’s how it should be.

the weekend of many ages

Thursday night I drove to my parent’s house
and it was the first time I ever referenced it as my parent’s house, not mine
Maybe its because I didn’t live in that house long anyways
or that I’ve been in Nac longer than I stayed there
either way It was strange for those words to come out of my mouth.
I felt about 22

Then I woke up and drove to Lake Charles for a SAGE conference
I woke up early and drove responsibly
all I used to get there was a map of Texas and my new found sense of direction
I even got a phone call from work and had to tell them I wasn’t on call that weekend
I felt independent
I felt about 25

I parked my car at the church
stretched for a second and yawned
smiled as I saw the note from my dad in the passenger seat
I got out of the car and hopped to the ground
a raisin and a peanut fell out of my shirt
I felt about 7

Later on I was riding in the back seat of a car
two women were having conversation in the front seat
I stared at my shoes and out at the moon
forgetting that they were talking to me too
forgetting that I was now old enough to participate in the conversation
I felt about 13

I got to the hotel room late
everyone else was asleep
I needed to shower
I put one foot in and fell down
I got back up slowly and my knees popped and cracked
I felt about 70

Most of the weekend though,
I sat around godly women
in the midst of good conversation
sometimes contributing
sometimes soaking it up
appreciating the wisdom in front of me
applying it to my life
growing into who I am
learning
I felt my age

journals

The thing about new journals

is that they have to earn your trust.

The old ones gained it long ago

after months of awkward sentences,

and maybe some tears as well.

Over the years, the pages became familiar,

off-white, ink smeared memories.

But this new one still seems questionable.

It might lose your words.

You can’t quite rely on these pages.

If you happen to write too close to the edges,

the words may fall off the paper

and into the cracks of couches and pews

eventually found by a stranger

who won’t appreciate or understand them.

And it may not take you seriously either.

What if it laughs at you?

Doubling-over, flipping open, and sending words flying

in all different directions,

landing on people and in places,

making you embarrassed.

Maybe, though,

we should give it the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe it will be faithful,

and sit quietly on desks and passenger seats

next to full coffee cups,

waiting for your honesty, patiently

like a good journal would.

Appreciating your heart in word form

holding it captive,

keeping it safe,

and reflecting it back to you.

poem by me

idea from teysha

how inclement weather bonds us all

Today, as I walked outside into the the 25 degree morning I was immediately struck by a biting wind from the right of me that seemed to scream “YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED IN YOUR WARM BED!” And although I did like the idea of being in my warm bed, I thought that would have been a waste of the day. So I drew my arms in, stuck my hands into my scarf, and walked with purpose, thinking only of the heated Mckibben building ahead.

As I went on throughout my day I began to notice something strange.
People always talk and interact when its miserable outside!

It’s a conversation starter. I can’t tell you how many times I made conversation with the phrase “its cold!” or “you can’t feel the tips of your ears either?!”
Such obvious statements. We honestly sort of sound like idiots, but since its something everyone is experiencing at the same time it feels ok to say out loud.
It gives us a common ground.

I even gave and got more smiles from strangers today. They were like brief unspoken motivational interactions. Behind our watering eyes and runny noses, that small smile meant “I don’t know you, BUT we can DO THIS, we will not freeze, we WILL make it to class.”

These interactions just don’t happen much on regular days.
No one walks around making conversation in 73 degree weather by saying
“its quite mediocre outside!” That’s just awkward.

So even though I forgot my gloves, the wind felt like needles, and it didn’t even snow to make the cold worth it, I liked today; I liked the atmosphere (pun).

Within A Year

I must admit that usually I approach the year-reflective-blog with a scoff and an eye-roll. Also, I find new years resolutions to be nothing more than lame excuses to bring up something you probably should have started doing back in August. I’m practically the Scrooge of New Years. I’m usually just in it for the exploding multi-colored fire madness in the sky. But, alas, I have changed my way of thinking. Maybe it is wise to reflect and to set goals, it is potential fuel for growth! I’m a fan of growth. So I publically apologize for secretly rolling my eyes on the inside at you when you’ve told me your resolutions or gave me a reflection of your year. I am taking a new approach.

So as I reflected, I thought mainly of the hard things. Honestly, they seemed to outweigh everything else. Then, I dwelled on the growth from those hard things. Then how those hard things eventually produced good things… even the hard things that I made hard for myself (which is a very vague way of saying... ‘even my sin’). I remember at one point, sometime in early November, walking with a friend who genuinely asked how I was doing on just the right day and I surprisingly held back nothing. My heart unexpectedly threw up March-Present Day all over her. I got done and felt a little embarrassed about the amount of raw emotion I had just thrown in her direction. I did NOT want the “I-don’t-know-what-to-say-so-I’ll-say-sorry” response, but I assumed that’s what was about to come. Instead, she looked at me, gave me a sweet sympathetic smile, rubbed my arm and said, “Well… praise God and His perfect timing.” And she was not being sarcastic. I distinctly remember the agony of having to refrain from making the most condescending and confused face I could muster up. But now I see just how much truth was in that statement. All I did after she said it was nod, half-smile, and agree. But it took longer to transfer it from knowledge to belief. I think that has to be one big theme for most of this past year: the movement of truth from my head to my heart. Things like the fact that: He does have perfect timing (because perfect has nothing to do with pleasant); His mercies are really new every morning; He is actually bigger; and most importantly…

Falling deeply in love with Christ is beyond worth what it takes to get to there. And now I have this bird’s eye view of the time that has passed. I am able to look at where I am, where I was, where my heart broke, where I mended, where I fell, how I got up, where I was a fool, the moment I realized the state of my heart, how I gained wisdom, the times I burrowed in the word, what I learned. The peace I gained from not looking for answers, but being content with the fact that God orchestrated each moment according to purpose and nothing was even slightly surprising to Him, is something I cannot explain. I would honestly be willing and obedient to endure those hard things over again if it meant more glory for His kingdom, even if I gained nothing. He absolutely deserves it.

So that is my reflection.
I don’t have many resolutions yet. I’ve been anti-resolution for so long that I really need to think long and hard about them before I make them. BUT to end this on a lighter note, I will now inform you of ten semi-cool/funny/interesting things that happened in 2010. Mostly for fun, but also to make up for the lack of resolutions and the heavy dose of reflection in the paragraphs above, also to let you know, my life didn’t just suck last year, it really did involve doses of exciting, absurd, and laughable moments.

I bought my first pair of TOMS.
(Burlap with gray, yeah yeah!)

I went to Africa.
(First time to fly out of the country)

I threw up for the first time in ten years.
(on someone’s bushes, a parking lot, a community bathroom, and kitchen pot… all within six hours)

I saw Canada from across a lake, a pretty great lake I might add.
(then threw someone else’s Frisbee into that pretty great lake… oops)

I pierced my nose
(I did it! I was tough… and a friend held my hand.)

I got hit by a car while walking.
(no major injuries, just some bruises; she wasn’t going fast, but she was texting.)

I went spelunking in Missouri.
(hilarious story, you can read about it right here!)

I got a second-degree burn all over my hand
(boiling water and skin should never unite)

I had more coffee than water.
(I wish I was joking)

I started this blog,
(good decision, thank you Liz)

willing to be worthy

Recently, I found myself sitting in a very large crowd,
listening to the Holy Spirit go straight for my heart.

He spoke firmly, but softly.
Tossing very weighted words at me gently.
There were tears, but only because when the Holy Spirit speaks like that, it’s really the only appropriate reaction.
I wasn’t thriving off of emotion; I was thriving off a command.
A command that was eloquently spoken through a man of God who has wisdom, incredible stories, and insight, but that can also be perfectly summed up into one statement:

live a life worthy of the gospel.

Afterwards, I could have spent the next hour talking about my feelings,
but I felt it more fitting to spend that time in prayer.

Somewhere within the prayer, I said the following
“If I do not seriously begin to pursue you and share you, then please take me, because I desperately don’t want to be a waste of your glory.”

It was a difficult thing to write down.
I let it sink into the pages and into my heart before I got up.

As I got up I noticed a girl a few yards away to my right and heard God speak

“pray for her.“

So as I stood I began to pray for her and walk away.

“NO, pray for her.”

I knew what he meant, but I was already halfway past her. Plus, she was obviously older than I, early 30's, and I noticed she had on a volunteer t-shirt. Praying from a distance seemed fully sufficient. I've prayed for strangers before, it wasn't fear, I was just too comfortable with justifying my reasons for not approaching her. Awkwardness. Inconvenience.

I got a few feet farther and my legs went still.

“If you are not even willing to pray over a fellow believer when I ask, then what are you willing to do for me?”

My heart dropped and pressed down against my stomach and ribs. The weight of what I had just written in my journal became unbearable. I turned around immediately and did what he asked with a unsteady voice and barely dry eyes. I take no credit or pride in it. In fact, I’m overwhelmingly ashamed that I obeyed out of fear and not desire.

To see how easily I was able to question and ignore a demand from the God that allows me each breath was sobering. For the first time I understand what willingness looks like, and I see how much I severely lack it. I want to live a life worthy of the gospel, but that is a fruitless desire if I don't have the willingness to do whatever that entails.

I hope He never has to ask me that question again.
but I’m thankful that He did.