Everything Moves.

I wrote this to my mom last year towards the end of the summer. She shared it will me again recently:

There is too much change that is constantly happening in this post-high school stage of my life. It's hard on me. I don't do change very well. Sometimes it feels like my heart is continually breaking. I have to leave high school and get used to college. I have to leave college and get used to internship life. Then, right when I get the hang of things and really start to love my work it's over and soon after that everyone is scattering off to school again. Nothing is constant. It's a struggle for me. I am excited to go back to school though. We're going to have a really cool group of girls this year, I think. I'm not so excited about my classes, but I'm sure they'll grow on me. I'm sad to leave Hope. I'm sad to leave home. I hope you know that I'm sad to leave you. Sad that Jenny will never greet me again. But happy and thankful that I'll get to come home sometimes. But for now, Raleigh it is.

This was so me. So something I would say. And it still is. But I'm also different now. I've changed since last summer. I am stronger than I was then. I am a little bit more brave. I'm not as insecure. I've ditched a few idols (probably also picked up a few more). But I'm better. I'm more like Jesus, or on my way to more like Jesus. I still have a lifetime more of improving to do, but I am glad for this stage. Thankful for the lessons, the trials, the friends, the memories. I am thankful for this time, and I am loving it. Maybe not always in the midst of things do I love them or appreciate them, but I love to look back and see how necessary and purposeful it all is. I cannot wait to understand in full all of the wonders and mysteries that fill this life.

My heart still hurts every time things change. I don't know if I will ever not be like that. Even transitioning into things that I am excited about is sad on some level. Going from my familiar, my routine, into something new is sad to me. It's sad and it's scary and it's hard, but it's also good. I've learned that it makes me better. It forces me to lean on solid things, the few things that don't change, that don't move. It forces me to see beauty in new things. It give me a fresh perspective. I love to be able to see life and beauty from different perspectives. It opens my heart and my mind to possibilities. It increases my ability to love. It gives me new eyes, and I need new eyes. Sometimes my old ones get in a rut, and it's hard to get them out of it on my own.

It's makes things tough when nothing stands still. It makes life hard. I feel like I'm having trouble keeping up sometimes, but I am thankful for grace. As I go into this summer (at Hope Chapel again) I don't ask for the pain to not be there, but rather that I would embrace the pain, enter into it, and learn from it. I pray that I would hold on to this solid foundation I have been gifted, and interact with all the movement, love the movement, embrace the inconsistency.

all the things I pursue

well, they stay for a season

then everything moves

everything moves, oh

my towers fall

but you aren't leaving me

cause everything moves but you

Thankful.

I woke up this morning very late. It was almost the afternoon. Sleeeep. Mmmmm. I went to a Brooke Fraser concert last night! It was awesome. Sold out, so it was packed, but so worth it. She is so random and funny and her music is beautiful. Really, really beautiful. She is just awesome.

But more importantly, I got to spend time with two lovely girls, very dear to my heart. We've known each other forever. I am so thankful for them both.

Alison and I have known each other since elementary school. We played basketball together, and we became best friends forever when my dad moved onto the same street her family lived on. Every other weekend, and Wednesday nights we would get to hang out. Well, more like I always wanted to hang out, but she was a much better student than I was and often turned me down for things like homework and reading (she also ended up at UNC, out of state; smarty pants). But when I could convince her to play we had many adventures in "the meadow," made lotion in the creek, created super cool betty spaghetti hair styles, practiced our dribbling drills, found the best sledding hills, and so many other heart warming memories.

Lindsay and I have known each other since the 7th grade, when her family moved to PA from LONDON (she's so legit, accent and all). We bonded over our common love of field hockey (ha), so naturally our friendship was bound to succeed. Linds (as she likes to be called), saw me through my depressing first year [or so] in NC, when my family moved to Greensboro after our freshman year of high school. She was and continues to be such a huge encouragement to me. I was a mess. I know I was. I had it in my head that I was going to hate everything about Greensboro, and so I did. But she didn't just tell me I was being stupid. Lindsay listened to all my complaints, she cried with me, prayed with me, even made me laugh a few times. We both came a long way in our talking on the phone skillz that year.

I hadn't forgotten how much I loved these two girls. Well, maybe I had. I don't know. But when I woke up this morning, and thought about all of the fun we had last night I couldn't help but make this observation: my favorite part of last night wasn't the concert (the thing that brought us all together in the first place). My favorite part, by far, was the thirty or so minutes we spent sitting in Alison's apartment after the show. We went back to pee before all heading our separate ways, but ended up just chatting for a little while. My favorite part of last night was sitting in Alison's cute little living room and playing with Lindsay's hair. My favorite part of last night was hearing about how Alison's family is doing. My favorite part of last night was reminiscing about the old days. My favorite part of last night was getting to laugh with these girls that I love so much. How I miss them.

Today, I am thankful. I think I often forget how truly and ridiculously lucky I am. I like to dwell on the bad things, as if they were anything for me to complain about. I am blessed beyond belief to have Alison and Lindsay and all of the other outstanding friends Jesus has given me. I owe them so much. They are the best kind of friends I could ask for. They rejoice in my triumphs, mourn my losses, and always, always pick me up and point me in the right direction when I fall. Today, I am more thankful than I can express for Alison and for Lindsay and for all of you beautiful humans I get to be friends with. Thank you for loving me so well. You rock. So, so thankful for you all.

"My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you." John 15:12

Things I miss.

I read a list blog; I love it. Here is a list of my own. Maybe I will make a habit of list making. This was fun to come up with.

Things I miss:

1. The lake

2. Rat Face

3. Narns

4. Hope Chapel

5. Christmas lights

6. Football season

7. Jen

8. Sullivan 12th floor sunsets

9. Being 4 (and cute)

10. Footprints/SBOHEIGHT

11. Park City

12. My Subaru Outback (she looked a lot like this one...)

13. The easy eight

14. Dawson's Creek (and the DC theme song)

15. This girl

...eeeettteerrnaaallll...

"Overcome the finite with the infinite." I read that this week. It was in context, but you don't really have to know the context to appreciate it.

Overcome. Strength, grace, vigor, majesty, victorious, winner.

Finite. Small, weak, tiresome, momentary.

Infinite. Forever, wonder, beauty, mystery.

That is where my brain goes when I hear those words. I love stuff like this. It's just a little, linear command. Overcome the finite with the infinite. Simple enough. You read that and it's short and sweet, gets to the point, and my first reaction is, "Yeah, makes sense. No big deal." But the more I think about it, the more it is a huge deal. It's the answer to so many things. Overcome the finite with the infinite.

I guess my problem is that when I think about things that are finite, I think about stuff like this day, this year, this semester, this cup of coffee I am drinking. These things will all end. They are finite. But you know what else is finite... my grades, the clothes I buy, the roof over my head, the money in my pocket, this skin I wear, this mac that I type on. Those things will all end. A time will come when they will all pass, and only the infinite will remain.

Only the infinite will remain. My very soul, my savior, my father, my one true home. Those are the things that will go on forever. Those are the things that will remain. Those are the things that will overcome the finite. Money is not forever. What people think of me is not forever. What clothes I wear, what boys I like, what house I live in, those things are not forever. They are not forever, but I act like they are. On some level, I think of them as infinite. I think that money will overcome the finite. I think that because I live in a certain place, that will solve all my problems.

I struggle to maintain a true eternal perspective. I always have, and maybe I always will, but I haven't always been aware of it. I don't think I have always recognized it. I pray that as I continue on this journey, Jesus would continue to reveal the depths of my heart for what they really are, and that in that brutal honesty I would turn to the infinite, I would turn to him. Christ our joy and strength.

Overcome the finite with the infinite.

For what is seen is temporal, but what is unseen is eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:18

Bad week.

This week wasn't really too fun for me. Classes were not rewarding. I went to class and found myself counting down the seconds until I got to leave. I don't want to live my life, one day, in a job that I hate and count down the minutes until I can leave. That scares me.

The weather was cold. I couldn't sit outside in the morning. I couldn't even convince myself to get out of bed early enough most mornings to where that would even be possible.

I felt disconnected. I isolated myself this week from true fellowship with friends and family. I made things that shouldn't be that important, ultimately important, neglecting one of the most precious things I have, relationships.

I got a really bad test grade back. Like, really bad.

I've eaten really poorly this week. I feel gross.

I ignored Jesus when he asked me to spend time with him. I did other things instead, other things that I will say aren't more important to me, but that's not what my actions this week have demonstrated. Not only that, but I excluded him from everything else. I didn't let him speak when I was frustrated about school. I ignored his wisdom whenever I could have benefited from it. I didn't even give him a shot.

As I think back to last week and what an encouraging time it was, and then I look to this week and ehhh maybe not so much, the only thing I can think that has changed is me. The endless blessings in my life are still there. Jesus is still calling me each and every day to relationship with him. He still died for me (how is that not enough for my greedy little heart?). People were still praying for me, I just chose not to bask in it. There is still wonder and beauty in cold weather; just because I didn't want to see it or because things didn't happen the way I thought they should doesn't change that fact.

It was me. It wasn't the world, it wasn't my friends, it definitely wasn't my God. It was my old heart, the one that creeps back out if I don't fight it every day. It was my brokenness making an appearance. It was my lack of an eternal perspective. It was me. Outside forces didn't make this week lesser than last, I did. I still have so much to hope in, so much to be joyful about, so much to be thankful for. I'm not saying that I need to be super happy all the time. I'm not saying that I can't have off days or just low seasons, but I can always have hope. I can always have peace.

I need people in my life to remind me of that, to point me back on track when I start to wander, because it will happen time and time again. I pray that I would develop new relationships and strengthen the ones I already have. That I wold have people in my life who can lift me up when all I want to do is lie down (and that I can be that person to others), reminding me always that my trials are so trivial, but my hope is eternal.

Good week.

It has been such a good week. The closest I have felt to peace in a long, long time. The closest I have felt to abounding joy in months. It has been busy, yet restful, demanding, yet rewarding. I know that no one reads this, because I haven't really told anyone about it or given out the URL, but maybe for the 1.5 of you that do end up reading it, you will find encouragement. That is my prayer.

There was nothing hugely special about this week. I had classes, babysat, studied, worked, took Raleigh on a few walks, did some cooking, etc. But, somehow over the course of this week I was able to find deep joy in lots of little things, I was able to find rest and peace in the promises dad has made to me (none of which are new). I was able to have a much more eternal perspective this week than I have in a long time. I want to hold on to that. I never want to let that go.

It started with knowing that others were praying for me. I am beginning the process of support raising for an internship I am doing this summer (with the same church I worked with last summer), and I got to meet my team last weekend. We had a mini orientation to get a bunch of information about the summer. I already love them all. We started an email chain to keep each other updated on fund raising, prayer requests, and just life. I am committed to lifting each of my future team members up in prayer, and I believe that each of them are just as committed. I have also been gathering addresses and to send out a letter soon. It has been such a huge blessing to talk to people who are so excited to support me and pray for me! Like, whoa. I don't deserve this kind of love. I have felt totally wrapped up by everyones support as they continually point me back to my savior. I have some pretty great people in my life. I am so thankful for each and every one of them.

It continued with my classes. I am a social work major. I have been for a few semesters. It's tough stuff. So many sad stories, so many heartbreaking injustices, and just so much brokenness in our country and across the world. As I have learned more and more about the way our country works in regards to social welfare and social work in general, I have grown more and more excited about my major. Not because our system is perfect by any means (it's not at all), but because it gets to be my job to bring people hope, to empower them, and to give them the tools they need to succeed. It gets to be my job to love people, to meet them where they are and to love them if for no other reason, than because they bear the image of God (they don't teach us that part in class...). There are things I'm not excited about: dealing with lack of funding, myself not getting paid well, not being taken seriously by society and even some people close to me, all of my insecurities and baggage that I bring to the table, working with clients that just don't want to work with me, and a million other things, but at the end of the day I get to make it my job to help people, and I don't know any other way to do that than by loving people well. There are days that I think to myself, "There is no way I am going to be able to handle this stuff in the real world." Then I get my act together and remember that I will never have to. At least not by myself. I get to go into communities (with Jesus) and be his hands, his feet, and hopefully his mouth. I realize that anyone can do this, in just about any major or job field, but it's been fun for me, on my journey to sit in class and see ways that I can help spread the kingdom on this earth, ways that I can bring hope to the hopeless.

It grew when the weather started getting nice. This sounds so shallow, but I have felt God wooing me with this beautiful weather. I love the cold and all things winter, but I love the transition back into warm-ness. It is SO MUCH EASIER for me to get up in the mornings when it is not -2 outside. I love being able to sit outside on the porch in the morning and drink coffee. I love feeling the sunshine on my face as I walk to class. It's like as the earth renews itself, so does my spirit. I feel revitalized, and captivated by God's creation. So lame, I know, but so true. I love it.

It, this goodness I have rambled on about, has manifested itself in a bunch of other ways as well. I could go on and on about how precious this time has been to me, and I kind of have. This week I am thankful. This week I am humbled. This week I am loved. This week I am in awe of my father's goodness. I pray that I would continue to go hard after those things, even when they are not as easy to find, because I bet they're always there, waiting for me. I am so lucky. I am so blessed. I am so undeserving. I love that no matter what, I can always lean on those truths.

Thanks for the great week, full of love and peace. On to the next.

Non désolé.

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Ephesians 4:32

I did, am doing, and will continue to do so much that hurts God and people. I don't want to. It's just part of being human. I fail and come up short again and again. In a way it's good that I keep messing up; it reminds me that I am not God. I am not perfect (just in case I forgot.. not likely). In another way it's bad, because my shortcomings hurt others. All of the people I love, and myself.

I woke up this morning at 8:45 for a 9:10 class that I have with a good friend. It was cold and I didn't want to get out of bed. My stomach was hurting. It was raining on the way to class, and as soon as I sat down I spilled coffee on all of the papers I had just been given. When I attempted to drink the remaining coffee that I had not spilled, it burned my mouth. So I proceeded to heavily sigh, not talk to my friend, and not take any notes for the rest of class (I really showed them..). I know that I need forgiveness. I needed it this morning and I need it every morning.

I think this idea of not being able to consistently do things right a lot of times is used as an excuse. It's a hopeless situation, so why even try? I will admit, I've felt this way on occasion. I want so badly to do things right and yet I knowingly walk into sin time after time. It can seem hopeless, and even more so when you feel the consequences of another's sin. When someone lets you down or hurts you.

Forgive each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. Each time I read this, it just rocks me. I think about all of the things Jesus has forgiven me for. I think about all of the things he's forgiven me for that I never even apologized for. I think about all of the things I hold on to. I think about the people in my life that are difficult to forgive, and I think about how much I need people to apologize before I grant them what Jesus offers us all so freely and abundantly each and every day.

It's crazy to me. We're not talking about simple name calling or lying. Don't get me wrong we're forgiven for that too, but it's the big stuff that kills me. It's the father who is unfaithful to his wife, and tears apart his family. It's the mother who is so critical of her daughter's appearance that it drives her to an eating disorder. It's the drunk driver that hits and kills a mother and father on their way home to their children. Jesus died for them. He died to forgive them, and he died to forgive me, and he didn't hold out on us because we refused to say that we were wrong. He didn't hold out on us for fear that we would never say we were sorry.

There are people in our lives that can really hurt us. It's usually our parents, or other family members, maybe a good friend, or a significant other. It's the ones that you trust, or want badly to trust. It's the ones that you give little pieces of yourself to, never thinking that they would ever use them against you. But we all come up short. We are all incapable of continual goodness. We've all hurt someone we love, and we've all been hurt by a loved one. Why is it such a huge shock every time? And why is forgiveness always so hard?

Maybe forgiveness is supposed to be hard. Maybe by learning to forgive instead of holding grudges, we get a tiny little glimpse into how Jesus felt when he died all those years ago on the cross. Maybe it makes us more like him, not just because forgiveness is obviously something he's all about, but also because he died for the men that sentenced him to death. And maybe when we forgive people that are hard to forgive, even hard to love, we can understand the pain and frustration our savior must have felt. Maybe we can begin to understand obedience and faith being truly lived out, and maybe, just maybe we can start to reflect those things within ourselves.