April 29, 2011
April 26, 2011
HelloGoodbye, and I don't mean the band
This season of life is controlled chaos. In a matter of twelve months I will have spent time in Illinois, Wisconsin, Texas, Minnesota and Ethiopia. I have taken the liberty of titling this chapter: life from a suitcase.
If it has taught me anything about myself, it’s that:
I love arriving, but I hate leaving.
I find joy in looking forward. I like for things to change and shift; I thrive in the new and different. This has worked to my benefit as I've kept pace with a number of opportunities.
I can become almost obsessive with what's next, however. I was recently telling a friend that being an RA means I am obligated to return in the fall. And then I laughed. I love it here, I seriously do. For the first time in a while I feel as though I really belong. But I wouldn't put it past my adventure-craving self to want something new: which I do realize would be incredibly irresponsible and irrational. I share this just to admit how deeply unsettled I tend to be.
This itch to continually start new seasons in my life, however, doesn't exist without irony. I have a really hard time leaving. Once I'm "there", I'm off and running. The transition period itself, on the other hand, is my weak point. I'm not so good at 'goodbye'. Honestly, it's not such a big deal or problem in and of itself. But this semester, I've realized it's deeper than my circumstances. It's a condition of my heart.
There are circumstances, dreams, thoughts, attitudes and relationships of my life that are changing and being made new. This is what I want[ed], hope[d] and pray[ed] for. Yet here I am, throwing a fit in the transition; because leaving the old is hard, uncomfortable and scary.
I am learning what it looks like to live out Philippians 2:13, "For it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure".
Another translation reads: "For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases Him".
Take heart, take hope.
If it has taught me anything about myself, it’s that:
I love arriving, but I hate leaving.
I find joy in looking forward. I like for things to change and shift; I thrive in the new and different. This has worked to my benefit as I've kept pace with a number of opportunities.
I can become almost obsessive with what's next, however. I was recently telling a friend that being an RA means I am obligated to return in the fall. And then I laughed. I love it here, I seriously do. For the first time in a while I feel as though I really belong. But I wouldn't put it past my adventure-craving self to want something new: which I do realize would be incredibly irresponsible and irrational. I share this just to admit how deeply unsettled I tend to be.
This itch to continually start new seasons in my life, however, doesn't exist without irony. I have a really hard time leaving. Once I'm "there", I'm off and running. The transition period itself, on the other hand, is my weak point. I'm not so good at 'goodbye'. Honestly, it's not such a big deal or problem in and of itself. But this semester, I've realized it's deeper than my circumstances. It's a condition of my heart.
There are circumstances, dreams, thoughts, attitudes and relationships of my life that are changing and being made new. This is what I want[ed], hope[d] and pray[ed] for. Yet here I am, throwing a fit in the transition; because leaving the old is hard, uncomfortable and scary.
I am learning what it looks like to live out Philippians 2:13, "For it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure".
Another translation reads: "For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases Him".
Take heart, take hope.
April 13, 2011
editing.
I love to edit.
Earlier in the semester I had written about the fact that one of my favorite classes was likely to be Research Writing; I was correct. I have loved learning to write and re-write.
Editing has also been a big part of my internship this semester. I get to edit scholarship and application essays for city students. Friends have also taken me up on the offer as I refine, learn and love to be creative with words.
This week, however, I have been reminded of my undeniable humanity.
You see, the more experience I have in editing the more able I feel. Unintentionally I have taken it to parts of my life for which it wasn't intended. More than words on a page, I try to edit my story. The Author writes a perfect and complete sentence; but I'm just sure that I could do better, and out comes the red pen.
Darn you, red pen.
I was not created to be the editor or perfecter of my life. When I try to, a lot of red ink just gets everywhere and things look a little ridiculous... there's not enough white-out in the Midwest to cover my good intentions.
I edit out a circumstance here and insert a relationship there. I cross out an event or conversation here and insert something selfish there.
No wonder I just want to turn the page.
Instead, I'll put down the pen and hold my crayons again. My attention is re-captured. In stillness I'll seek in joy and humility. Already there's freedom in unforced and uncontrolled rhythm. Just one taste has unconvered my apparent hunger.
"Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God" (Hebrews 12:1-2).
Earlier in the semester I had written about the fact that one of my favorite classes was likely to be Research Writing; I was correct. I have loved learning to write and re-write.
Editing has also been a big part of my internship this semester. I get to edit scholarship and application essays for city students. Friends have also taken me up on the offer as I refine, learn and love to be creative with words.
This week, however, I have been reminded of my undeniable humanity.
You see, the more experience I have in editing the more able I feel. Unintentionally I have taken it to parts of my life for which it wasn't intended. More than words on a page, I try to edit my story. The Author writes a perfect and complete sentence; but I'm just sure that I could do better, and out comes the red pen.
Darn you, red pen.
I was not created to be the editor or perfecter of my life. When I try to, a lot of red ink just gets everywhere and things look a little ridiculous... there's not enough white-out in the Midwest to cover my good intentions.
I edit out a circumstance here and insert a relationship there. I cross out an event or conversation here and insert something selfish there.
No wonder I just want to turn the page.
Instead, I'll put down the pen and hold my crayons again. My attention is re-captured. In stillness I'll seek in joy and humility. Already there's freedom in unforced and uncontrolled rhythm. Just one taste has unconvered my apparent hunger.
"Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God" (Hebrews 12:1-2).
April 1, 2011
RA, RA! SIS-BOOM-BAH!
I'm going to be the RA of 10W next year :).
Early Thursday morning I was startled out of my sleeping by a plethora of screaming and giggling girls with a flashlight. I made my way up to the tenth floor where I was dressed like a tea-bag and taught the "horah", a Jewish dance. I was initiated even in so far that I rapped a song they had written for me.
They were (and are) wonderful.
The girls, most of which have never met me, had coffee and pancakes ready upon my arrival. Nearly the entire floor was congregated in the lounge with smiling faces at 5 in the morning. They gave me a really sweet mug from Anthropologie! Bottom line: they're sweet and I'm very excited.
I'm very excited in general, actually.
I've been given so many opportunities this semester and crazy changes are happening in my heart, mind, and circumstances. I am very much learning what it's like to live in the truths of: "the brother of humble circumstances is to glory in his high position; and the rich man is to glory in his humiliation, because like flowering grass he will pass away" (James 1:9-10). I've lived uncomfortably on both sides of many conditions and I treasure the challenges that have grown and stretched me.
And, I'm painting bigger strokes than ever before...
The undeniable joys hidden in my heart are finding their way out as I take bigger leaps of obedience and make bigger messes as well. I've fallen hard, but learned to fly high too. Each day I do my best to live in the place where trust and graditude collide; and I'm finding that to be rather beautiful.
Early Thursday morning I was startled out of my sleeping by a plethora of screaming and giggling girls with a flashlight. I made my way up to the tenth floor where I was dressed like a tea-bag and taught the "horah", a Jewish dance. I was initiated even in so far that I rapped a song they had written for me.
They were (and are) wonderful.
The girls, most of which have never met me, had coffee and pancakes ready upon my arrival. Nearly the entire floor was congregated in the lounge with smiling faces at 5 in the morning. They gave me a really sweet mug from Anthropologie! Bottom line: they're sweet and I'm very excited.
I'm very excited in general, actually.
I've been given so many opportunities this semester and crazy changes are happening in my heart, mind, and circumstances. I am very much learning what it's like to live in the truths of: "the brother of humble circumstances is to glory in his high position; and the rich man is to glory in his humiliation, because like flowering grass he will pass away" (James 1:9-10). I've lived uncomfortably on both sides of many conditions and I treasure the challenges that have grown and stretched me.
And, I'm painting bigger strokes than ever before...
The undeniable joys hidden in my heart are finding their way out as I take bigger leaps of obedience and make bigger messes as well. I've fallen hard, but learned to fly high too. Each day I do my best to live in the place where trust and graditude collide; and I'm finding that to be rather beautiful.
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