Newness...

It's shaping up to look like 2009 is going to be full of a LOT of things that I've never done before, am afraid I'll fail miserably at doing, (and apparently, from reading this sentence thus far, a grand opportunity for a lot of pessimism...lovely), and in general a lot of "scary" things that are going to happen. 

Let's see. 

I start my job at David's Bridal (read the previous post if you want to know how much I'm fretting about that one). 

I am the Oasis Coordinator for Intervarsity. That means I lead a team of people who plan our weekly Large Group meetings for between 60 and 150 people. This includes worship, speaker, announcements, games, emcees, and a whole lot of other things I'm still figuring out. It also means I'm on Exec for IV; both of these are things that I have no idea how to do. I've never even been involved in planning an Oasis meeting before...this should be interesting. 

I have moved into my first apartment. (Read: off-campus, no meal plan). I will need to learn the smaller details of off-campus life: commuting with time to get to park and get to class, grocery shopping and gasp: cooking meals (I'm a good cook; it'll just require more time...), and yadda yadda yadda. 

And this one should be the easiest, but I'm terribly afraid to fail at it. I'm the Maid of Honor in my best friend's wedding. Cool, except that means I plan a bachelorette party, a couple showers, keep her from freaking out the closer we get, etc. 

Anyway, I'm scared. There's so much "new" happening and so much "old" not happening. So much "comfortable" leaving. It reminds me of a Sara Groves song, so once again, I'm going to stop rambling about my life and relate it to a coherently written song:

I don't want to leave here, don't want to stay,

Feels like pinching to me, either way. 

But the places I long for the most are the places where I've been

They are calling out to me, like a long-lost friend.

It's not about losing faith; it's not about trust.

It's all about comfortable when you move so much. 

And the place I was wasn't perfect, but I had found a way to live

And it wasn't milk or honey but then neither is this. 

I've been painting pictures of Egypt, leaving out what it lacks

The future feels so hard and I want to back

But the places that used to fit me cannot hold the things I've learned

And those roads were closed off to me while my back was turned. 

The past is so tangible, I know it by heart.

Familiar things are never easy to discard.

And I was dying for some freedom but now I hesitate to go

I am caught between the "promised" and the things I know. 

And I know that in my inadequacies, God will show up. I know that in most of these things, I won't, and maybe can't, "fail" in the normal sense of the word. I guess the song is really accurate when it says: "I am caught between the 'promised' and the things I know." I'm caught in between what I know, what has become comfortable, even if it wasn't "milk and honey," and the things I know God has in store, that He has promised to work together for good. Why is that concept so hard? 

Terrified...Absolutely

I officially start my job this week. As in, I will be working one-on-one with brides, mothers of brides/grooms, bridal parties...you get the gist. As in, after one hour of sort-of shadowing a bridal consultant who's done this for almost two years, I'm on my own. As in, after 12 hours of training, (read: going through a manual in a group and briefly looking through the stock, which has since changed to feature the Spring Collection), I'm flying solo. 

BAD IDEA. I don't know the new merchandise (I barely knew the old merchandise). I don't know where everything is located. Or how to pick out the perfect tiara and jewelry to "accessorize" the dress. Or how to suggest dress styles based on body type. Or how to take a customer's style preference and suggest more dresses that are similar. Or how to use the cash register. 

And I haven't memorized my employee number yet. AHHHHH. 

I'm terrified. I feel so utterly incompetent. 

Maybe I Am Missing Something...

Right next to Campus is a Walgreens, on the corner. As I was going in the other day, I noticed something that made me stop and wonder...

In front of the stoor, as is so common this time of year, was a Salvation Army employee ringing a bell, asking for donations. And on the street corner was a homeless man, with a sign that said: "Homeless veteran. Anything helps. God bless." And I wondered...how ironic it seemed that the Salvation Army employee stood not forty feet from the homeless veteran, that people were giving money to the employee, that the homeless man continued to be avoided.

I am not in any way doubting the good things that the Salvation Army does in our community, as in many others around the country. I just found it odd.

On a whim...

As many of you know, I have been helping with almost every detail of Laura Jo's wedding-- and enjoying it thoroughly. As a part of that, I went with her to many different bridal shops to try on gowns... and the more I learned, the more the sales associates (or bridal consultants) would just let me do their job for them and leave us alone.

So the other day, my friend Sarah asked me to go with her to David's Bridal to look at gowns for her wedding. I agreed because it's becoming something that I enjoy and that I'm knowledgeable about.

Anyway, the bridal consultant was busy helping someone else and joked around with me about doing her job for her. I joked back, asking if they were hiring. "Yes, we are," she told me. "And you should get an application." I went to the front and got an application and was planning to take it home, and with exams and everything going on right now, I figured, I might get around to this. Besides, what good would an employee discount do me at David's? (actually that thought didn't cross my mind at the time). Anyway, the lady stopped me and told me to fill it out while I was still in the store and went to get the assistant manager, who promptly asked me when the soonest was I could come in for an interview. So, the following day I had an interview with the manager, who asked me two questions and then talked about job duties and my "future at David's Bridal."

I go in to observe on Saturday and then I start training on Sunday. Wow. Who would've thought that I would be a bridal consultant at 20? But apparently I did something right that day because the whole store is talking about me. Lovely.

It's a job and I am so blessed to have found one that will work with my schedule next semester. I'm kind of excited and a little nervous too.

Akeelah and the Bee

"You know that feeling where everything feels right? Where you don't have to worry about tomorrow or yesterday? Where you feel safe and know you're doing the best you can? There's a word for that. It's called love." -Akeelah and the Bee

Grown-Up Christmas List

I hate this time of year. Oh yes, I love giving thanks, anticipating and celebrating the birth of our Savior, and the impending joy of this season. But, with my birthday three days before Christmas, and two different families to celebrate Christmas and my birthday with, a lot of nagging goes on. Everyone wants to know what I want. "Nothing," is not an acceptable answer. But for whatever reason "want" and "need" are so synonymous in my mind. I don't need anything so I feel like I don't want anything. 

My heart is so broken for the world around me that I feel unreasonably selfish wanting anything that I don't absolutely need. And I have more than enough as it is. I have food, a place to live, and I'm on my way to having a degree with which to obtain a career. 

I can't describe to my family that I just want other people to have enough too. Sure, we go to the trees and get a name printed on an angel-shaped piece of cardstock and go purchase of a few things or adopt a family for Christmas, but my heart is so burdened for all the other children, families, people, even animals out there who are lonely, cold, hungry...hurting. 

So here's my lifelong wish

My grown-up Christmas list

Not for myself

But for a world in need

No more lives torn apart

That wars would never start

And time would heal all hearts

And everyone would have a friend

And right would always win

And love would never end

This is my grown-up Christmas list

As children we believed 

The grandest sight to see

Was something lovely 

Wrapped beneath our tree.

Well, Heaven surely knows

That packages and bows

Can never heal 

A hurting human soul...

I don't want to become apathetic or to even care less about everyone else. I just don't want to be so weighed down by it in a season that is supposed to be full of joy and excitement. 

This is Emily. Lindsay left up her blog at my house. The end.





currently listening to: the format

A Simple Prayer

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy.

May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.

May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be, so that you can act without fear and in total confidence of His power.

May you be confident knowing you are a child of God.

Honor(ed)

As my best friend plans her wedding, no detail, no matter how small, has been unknown to me. From colors, to the dress, to the location, each and every aspect has been something on which she asked my opinion, took me with her to shop or visit, etc. 99% of the time, I knew things before her family did.
But this weekend, she surprised me. We were in the Outer Banks together and I had gone to take a shower in our suite. When I returned, there was a note card and a small box on my pillow. I knew what the notecard was going to say because I had helped her type the poems for all six of them and print them up. She was then going to hand-write notes to each girl, asking them to be a bridesmaid in her wedding. So, you can imagine my surprise when I opened the card, read the poem, and where I had typed it to say "Will you be my bridesmaid?" at the bottom, it instead said, "Will you be my Maid of Honor?" I just sat there at first and the first thing I said to her was: "You typed up a whole other card." She just laughed. I was so shocked and so honored to be asked to play the biggest role in her wedding party. And of course, I accepted.
(Oh, and we had a lovely time in the Outer Banks).

George Whitfield, an 18th C preacher, was known for his theological disagreements with John Wesley. The two, though both respectable men, disagreed so greatly in their theology of Christianity. One day, a reporter asked George Whitfield about John Wesley. "Reverend," the reporter said, "do you think you will see John Wesley in Heaven?" The question was an obvious invitation to openly bash Wesley's theology and character.
"No, I do not," replied Whitfield.
"Why is that?" the reporter probed, surprised.
Whitfield answered, "Because I believe that John Wesley will be so close to the bosom of God that we will not be able to see him for all the surrounding glory."

Something Bigger Than Me

I realized yesterday that I expect other people to come through and "fix" things, whether they are professionals, friends, family, whatever. I expect that if I have a problem that I cannot fix, that they ought to know how and be willing to fix it. The problem is rarely with the willingness. It's the knowing how.

And I realized yesterday that my expectations of other people in this way stems from the fact that I don't completely trust God. I don't trust Him to be in control. I don't trust Him to take care of me. I don't trust Him to be good. I don't trust Him to...be God. So, I decided that that's not okay. (I know, I know I'm brilliant).

I am trying to live in the core truth that God is good and that His plan is perfect, whatever that means for my life right now.

Whatever You're doing inside of me,
It feels like chaos but somehow there's peace.
And though it's hard to surrender to what I can't see,
I'm giving in to something Heavenly.

Whatever You're doing inside of me,
It feels like chaos but I believe
You're up to something bigger than me,
Larger than life, something heavenly.
-Sanctus Real

Irreplaceable

I realized yesterday that I have a serious need to feel like I cannot be easily replaced. And maybe this is selfish, worldly, un-Christian, and egotistical of me. But the need is very real.

I recently quit my job as an RA, which also means that I no longer sit on about five Departmental committees. It also means that I am not on the Exec Board of the RA Association. Obviously, the Department is trying to fill a gap because they are missing a staff member, but for some reason it hurts when I feel like they are just flippantly asking whoever comes to mind first if they'd like my job. I'd like to think that I was better at my job than the typical joe-schmoe.

My guess is that my need to feel irreplaceable is deeply rooted in my insecurity about my worth and whether or not I am good enough. It's an interesting revelation that at 20 I question monumental things like this. Shouldn't I be certain by now that I am worth something? That I am valued? Why is such an elementary idea so difficult for me to grasp?

And unfortunately, I don't just feel like this in my job. I feel like this in many areas of my life and it bothers me that I question in relationships if people could replace me with someone they liked better. Shouldn't I trust my friends and family and community more than that? Shouldn't I understand their love isn't going to just vanish?

Yeah, I don't know.

I've Come To Realize...

I didn't get tagged but I like this... and well, since I'm not sleeping pretty much at all, I haven't much better to do with my time.


1. I've come to realize that my hair...does not want to be straight or flat, regardless of how long I work on it in the mornings.
2. I've come to realize that my legs...appreciate high heels less than I thought.
3. I've come to realize that my job...became my identity.
4. I've come to realize that when I'm…becoming increasingly more relational the longer I'm in college.
5. I've come to realize that I need...to be around people.
6. I've come to realize that I have lost...my ability to keep people at arm's length for fear of getting hurt.
7. I've come to realize that I hate it when…people aren't listening to me.
8. I've come to realize that if I'm drunk…I can't answer this one, sorry.
9. I've come to realize that money...is easier to give away the more I understand that it isn't mine to begin with!
10. I've come to realize that people...aren't all going to leave; people will stay and they'll walk beside you.
11. I've come to realize that I'll always…believe that I can change the world.
12. I've come to realize that my significant other…will come along in God's perfect timing.
13. I've come to realize that my mom...does the best she can and loves me more than I know.
14. I've come to realize that my cell phone...is worth going back for even if I'm already running late.
15. I've come to realize that when I woke up this morning I…wasn't sure I wanted to face another day.
16. I've come to realize last night before I went to sleep…the world keeps turning and each day is a fresh start.
17. I've come to realize right now I am thinking about ...how much I want to accomplish as I grow up.
19. I've come to realize that when I get on Myspace…I am creeped out and almost immediately log out.
20. I've come to realize that today...I'm where I'm called to be, for good or bad.
21. I've come to realize that tonight...I'm still sleeping poorly (clearly, since I'm blogging well past midnight and have been up since 7am).
22. I've come to realize that tomorrow...is another opportunity to be used by God to further his kingdom- NOT mine.
23. I've come to realize that I really want to…grow up and be a mommy.
24. I've come to realize that life...is a journey and there is joy all along the way!
25. I've come to realize that my friends…aren't giving up or going away.
26. I've come to realize this year... has been crazy but I'll look back on it in the future and be amazed at the things God brought me through.

I'm not tagging people 'cause it's doubtful many people read this anymore.

Bowing Out

I learned an important lesson just fifteen minutes ago: how to bow out. I have been an RA (resident advisor) for over a year, and have learned to utilize my resources and pass the ball, when things are too much for me to handle alone. They drill into our heads the idea that we are never alone, that there are always others to go to.

BUT, I quit my job this past Friday, for a number of reasons. So tonight when someone came to me with a monumental problem, you'd think protocol and resources would be jumping out at me, that what had been drilled into my head at every training opportunity would come naturally tonight. Well, friends, it didn't.

I stumbled through advice. I hestitated to make a decision. I had more questions than answers. I felt more alone in dealing with this situation than I have in a while. And after calling a couple people, I knew what I had to do: bow out. This wasn't a good time for me to handle this and there were plenty of other people around to help, so what was I doing? I know that at this point in my life, the stress and anxiety of everything that's going on is almost more than I can bear on a daily basis, and here I was trying to take on someone else's needs too.

So, after being given "permission" (or orders, whatever) to pass the buck to someone else, I did. And I learned an important lesson: that bowing out isn't selfish, sometimes it's selfless, because you know your limits well enough to know that you could end up doing more harm than good; and it means giving others an opportunity to come around this person and love and support them.

The Newest Addition

They're not teenaged. They're not mutant. And they're not ninjas, but they ARE my four itty-bitty red-eared sliders... turtles, that is.

Here they are:

This one is Ralph.

This is Waldo.

This is Emerson.

And Squirt, the littlest one, was hiding from the camera. They're so fun. They swim all around and wrestle with each other and kick and hit each other and climb up on the rocks. I'm more attached to these reptiles than I thought I would be-- though I'm still a very big dog (and cat...ish) person.

Sometimes, words fail.

Four Years

I started classes today. I have been at school in the residence halls for almost three weeks, though, for RA training. I'm emotionally, mentally and physically exhausted, and my first week has only just begun. Great.

But as I go to classes and hear the same speeches about class expectations, rules, academic integrity, assignment policies, blah blah blah blah, over and over again, I find myself bored, wishing I was finished with college. And as my RA job sometimes feels more like babysitting and crowd control than valuable experience and mentoring, I find myself frustrated. And as I feel like there aren't enough hours in the day to get everything done that everyone expects me to do, I find myself feeling like a failure, like I'm letting people down. And as I spend time with friends, who will graduate in December or in May, leaving me alone for my senior year, I find myself wishing time would stop right in its tracks.

But today a professor said: "Enjoy this time. It's the best four years of your life."

Here's the thing. This better not be the best four years of my life. Not because I don't love college. I do. I love almost everything about it. But my philosophy is that if my life is not getting (overall) progressively better as the years go by, I'm doing something wrong. When I leave college, I shouldn't then have ahead of me fifty years of letdowns, of wishing I could just be in college again. That isn't to say that life will be a breeze or that there won't be hard times, but I feel like if I'm miserable or upset about something as I go through life, I should work to fix it. I want to be in control of my "destiny" so to speak. I can choose to be happy or choose to spend the rest of my life lamenting about how college was the best four years of my life. I want the former.

Life should get better, not level off or get worse. College shouldn't be it. It should just be another springboard to get to where I want to go.

Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be. -Abraham Lincoln

My Restless Heart

I wrote this poem about two days ago... 

My Restless Heart

My restless heart grows weary

From the strain of every day

As I plod my way through life

And watch the skies turn gray

My restless heart strains

Against the pulling of the tide

As I fail and stumble, trip and fall

Though time and time I've tried

My restless heart cannot take it

The years of endless failures mount

The heartache and the broken dreams

Are far too numerous to count

My restless heart is tired now

From trying to love this world

And trying to please everyone 

And be their perfect little girl

My restless heart is empty now

Void of any hope or dream

For as angry words break me down

Bitterness tears me at the seams

My restless heart is torn between

Trying to leave my past behind

Or traveling down the worn-out road

Toward a familiar pain I know I'll find

My restless heart is growing weak

From the toil of each painful day

My restless heart is just not strong enough

To choose to go another way

Weekend Convo

We were all hanging out in Laura Jo's room... and I was trying to maneuver around some stuff, and in doing so I, without thinking, kicked her dumbell hoping to move it out of my way.

My response wasn't a cry of agony or a groan of pain. I looked Laura Jo square in the eye, and said indignantly, "Your dumbell didn't move when I kicked it!"

"Gee, Linds, it's an eight-pound weight. What'd you expect?"

"I dunno. It's light green and cute and pretty. I just figured it would float away when I kicked it."

And then there was lots of laughing and realizing the insanity of all that had just happened.

Forgiveness, Pt. 2

But I have finally been able to realize that for me, forgiveness is much harder than murder, but more people benefit in the end. The guy who hurt me has a wife and a daughter (Does that bother me? Definitely. Do I wonder if he hurts his daughter? All the time. Do I think it’s unfair that he could possibly be living a perfectly normal, happy life without remorse? Of course.) But for me to stop living and resent him forever is only tearing me apart.

There’s a quote: “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is an attribute of the strong.” Let’s be honest, I never had plans to murder him. But there were times when I sure thought I had it in me. But murder only makes me feel less threatened. It doesn’t bring true closure and in the end, it only hurts more people. Forgiveness fully liberates me from having this define me. It has shaped me, to be sure. I will never be the same person I would have been had I not gone through all of this. But I’ve learned a lot and grown so much from all of this. That’s not to say it isn’t painful almost on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Forgiveness is harder than murder. It takes more strength, more drive, more emotion. It forces me to relive what I went through, to accept that what happened cannot be undone, and to love myself in spite of all of the trauma, and to know that I am worthy of love as well.

I spent almost four years believing that I was at fault for what happened. That I could have screamed louder, said “no” more times, fought him off, etc etc etc. But the truth is that, regardless of whether that would have stopped the abuse or lessened it, I am still not to blame for what happened. But coming out of that mindset was hard… and it led into something equally as difficult to move past: being a victim. I hated being a victim, because I felt labeled and defined. I began to conclude that I would never be able to be close to anyone because I was so afraid of having their trust violated, or of being hurt physically and emotionally.

I had been held captive for so long. I was a prisoner to my rage, a captive to my bitterness, and enslaved by the feeling of being worthless because of what had happened to me. And forgiveness—not murder, not isolation, not fear, not anger—could open the prison doors for me. It’s ironic to me that while I spent four long years wanting this guy to go to prison for what he had done, I had in fact been behind the cell doors myself.

I’ve spent too long being captive to something that caused enough pain to begin with. The grudge I was holding and the bitterness I felt was about power—because victims feel powerless. It was about me saying that I could forgive on my terms, unlike the abuse, which was on his terms. But that’s so contrary to what Jesus demonstrates on the cross, when, as He’s being crucified, He is praying that God would forgive them/us for they/we do not know what they/we are doing. What a beautiful model of perfect forgiveness.

I’m still on the road to fully forgiving the guy and myself. It’s a daily process, and one that will take many years. I’ll probably never hear him say “I’m sorry.” I’ll probably never get to see whether or not he is remorseful in any way. I’ll likely never watch him being led off in handcuffs to jail. And one day, I’ll be okay with that.

I will never forget when my pastor told a story at church about a small group that he and his good friends were in during high school. The guy who led the small group was a pastor and claimed a lot of outlandish things. My pastor found out later that a couple of his friends were being sexually abused by this pastor. He also said that after years of bitterness and rage, he finally forgave the guy and he even said he wanted the guy to go to Heaven.

I’m not going to lie, that’s hard for me to swallow. And I told my pastor that. And he smiled and said that we could talk about it... and that I'd get there too, one day. I am very justice-minded. Laura Jo is forever telling me that my passion is justice. And in some ways, that’s accurate. I like to be justified in what I do; I like for other people to be justified as well. And it was no different with my own story: I needed God to justify to me what happened.

In my mind, God created me and He created the man who would abuse me, knowing full-well that it would happen. So I have spent years wrestling with God about why He didn’t just not create one of us. I was putting God on trial, basically. I was trying to get Him to explain his rationale, to tell me, with all my finite understanding, why He would create both of us and why He would not stop the abuse while it was happening.

Mac, the main character in the book The Shack, (which if you haven’t read, you must!), wrestles with almost an identical set of questions. In fact at one point, Mac says to God: “How are you going to justify what happened?” after his daughter was murdered.

And God says to Mac: “I have not come to justify it. I have come to redeem it.” How much greater is redemption, O Reader, than justification? Justification levels the playing field. Redemption brings it full circle, heals the wounds, and builds a foundation for the future. It also glorifies God.

And so even though it’s hard for me, to this day, to pray for my enemies and bless those who curse me, I try. And when I can’t find love and grace and forgiveness for this man, I pray for God’s love and grace and forgiveness to flow through me.