Nostalgia

I sat at the Finneytown chorus concert tonight with my high school best friend and reflected on how much I loved high school. I had amazing friends in high school. I got to participate in a million different activities. I was the cheerleading captain one night and the star of the musical the next.

Sometimes I sit in the same classrooms I was in, and try to pick out which of my friends are like the kids there now. I have an Adam Stein; he was an easy one to identify. A Nick Judge and an Eric Smith. I've found Jenna and myself. It's funny because while I love my life now, there was just something so simplistic about high school that you never really appreciate while you're there. Your friends are just there every day. You have more activities to choose from than you could ever need. The pressures of homework are nothing compared to real job anxiety. Little did we know; little did we believe.

More disheartening then the realization that I started high school ten years ago, is watching the kids in the high school now and the choices they make. I don't understand them. (Granted, my friends made decisions I didn't understand, but that's what happens when you're the naive one.) Why would you risk losing something you love for something that isn't that important? Why would you make rash decisions that could cost you in the long haul? And the worst part is when their parents, so eager to defend their kids, enable the bad decisions.

Where have the good 'ole days gone?

Tired

I'm exhausted. I have run myself ragged and cannot seem to get an escape. Even lounging doesn't diminish the stress of the exhaustion. Yes, stress of the exhaustion. Because there is no end in sight. There's no, well it's only a few more days until the weekend. The weekend is actually the most stressful part.

I'm tired of trying to make people want more. I want to throw up my hands and say fine. Enjoy being miserable when you could have better. Fine. Good luck in life with your I never have to follow up on my commitments philosophy. Fine. But I'm finished. I can't convince you to be respectful or to not be entitled. I can't make you want better.

But I do want better. I want the calm after the storm. But it's not as if there's even a storm. Just a crazy name on the news and no milk at Kroger. Can't I just have better? Can't I just have more?

Life (I hope you enjoy this Jeni)

Jeni has been getting on my case lately about not writing, so here I am. I've been busy with life since I snagged myself the building sub job at Finneytown. I've been teaching/subbing and running around like a crazy person the rest of the time.

I wish I had eloquent words to sum up life as it is right now; that I could tell you I was at peace now that the Lord has given me a place to rest. But that wouldn't be the truth. Of course I'm never satisfied. I always said, just one thing. Pick one thing that I wish I had and then I'll be happy with one thing. Yet here I am, flitting around the high school, hanging out with high school kids without all the work after 3 o'clock, and I find myself restless and unsatisfied.

The growing discomfort of my heart is disconcerting. I'm not sure why it is I can't find rest in what He has provided. Why isn't this enough? More importantly, why wasn't He enough, that even before this job I wasn't satisfied? Why am I in a continual circle of wanting more? Maybe it's because despite my wanting of all these blessings, He is not what I'm seeking first and foremost. And he laid out that that was the order to do it in. (seek ye first the kingdom of God, yada yada.) Apparently no matter how basic He makes it and how easily he lays it out, I struggle not getting things in the order I want.

Hopefully, one day soon, I'll grow up. (because while I'm still mistaken for a middle schooler at least once a week, I am getting old) Maybe, there will come a day when I stop throwing the tantrums that I so despise from my kids, and start taking responsibility for my actions (or inactions/laziness/apathy, whatever you want to call it). Because if I followed the order correctly, I'm pretty sure He would follow through on his part of that promise. Funny thing about God, he can't go back on his word. It's just that true.

Love Walked In

Don't get your hopes up. I wish this was an aptly titled blog about my life too. It's actually the title of the book I'm going to quote. I haven't been very original lately but I have been reading some great stuff. This is a quick snippet that so beautifully describes writing.

Getting the words right mattered, but so did describing his voice when he talked and capturing the feeling that filled her as he spoke and after he spoke. She thought about that word "capture," how it put a writer on par with a fur trapper or big-game hunter, and how it implied that stories were whole and roaming around loose in the world, and a writers job was to catch them. Except of course that a writer didn't kill what she caught, didn't stuff it and hang it on a wall; the point was to keep the stories alive.

Conversations with a Genius

I've been reading a book the past few weeks called Angry Conversations With God It's pretty stellar. I think I enjoy it most because me and Susan, the author, while very different, have very similar thoughts about God. Not only that, but she's friggin' hilarious. And amid the humor, there is truth. The premise of the book, although a bit far-fetched, is that she takes God to couples counseling. She finds a Christian counselor that invites her to engage in "conversations" with God about her issues with him and where she finds him "at fault" in the relationship. That being said, I will share some of the parts I love most. (if you read nothing else, read the last one)

God: You apologized years ago and I forgave you. This is the same thing you did when you were eighteen: "I know you're angry and you hate me: I'll do everything right so you'll love me." I didn't hate you. And I never loved you because you were good. I loved you because you were mine.


God:I don't have a problem with sex. I invented it, didn't I? I did not design the body to be celibate at forty. I also didn't design you to be stuck in emotional adolescence into retirement.
Susan: And therein lies the conflict.
God: It's your messed-up culture that has set up the conflict, not me. Please, go, have sex! Live out the Song of Solomon. Only do it married, with a Christian man who's going to understand your whole heart.
Susan: Those men weren't available. They all read Kiss My Dating Ass Goodbye.


Susan: I wanted to be loved.
God: So do I, Susan. I have loved you your whole life. I've never left you. Even when you wanted me to. I brought you out of despair. I dumped so many blessings into your life. You had nearly everything. Except one thing: a man. Don't you think I knew that? Did you have no patience?
Susan: No patience?! I was nearly forty years old.
God: Well, as you said: you live in a fallen world and it sucks.
Susan: You created this world.
God: But I didn't make it fall, Susan. I didn't make it suck.


God:...What are your complaints against me? That I didn't give you the career you wanted? That you didn't get the husband you wanted? I'm not a life insurance policy: I am your Maker. I want to be the Lover of your soul. You married me for my money! I know the church is mess up. Do you know why? Because they're like you: you're here to improve your own life. And then when you don't get what you want, you complain.... I gave you my life, Susan. But you wanted a career and a boyfriend....If you decide you want to know the real me - not a drill-sergeant Father or a wimpy Jesus you can minipulate or blame. If you want to love the real me, for better or worse, richer or poorer, lonely or in love - which is how I've loved you, Susan - then I'll be back. But not until then. And don't ask me to come back until you mean it. Because I'll know.

A unit of the Mafia

Family. It's one of the few times in our lives, we don't choose the people associated with us. I, in that matter, won the lottery. While my family has its' quirks and we sometimes clash, I love my family. They are, quirks and all, all that one could ever ask for.

My parents are supportive to the nth degree. And they have opportunities to be either way. Sara has always been the child that worked her tail off and earned every grade she got. She continues to work her tail off in her amazing job that was offered to her a year before she graduated. She also works at a marriage to the coolest guy I know (hopefully not the case forever. I like to think I'll like my husband more), and I can honestly say they are one of the best couples. Period. She also has an amazing home that her and said husband always seem to be tinkering with (although some of those things just keep popping up on their own).

I on the other hand, was that annoying kid that never worked for grades, they just came my way. I have floated a bit after college, doing a brief stint in Virginia, now lollygagging around Cincinnati. And yet, they are equally supportive of both of us. They could not possibly love us any more than they already do. Dad is always there for wisdom, prayer and a backrub when you're tired or feeling sick, and random trivia about weird scifi shows. Mom is always there. For anything. Even if that's you left a random paper at home when you drove back up to college in Oxford. She's there 45 minutes later with your paper and lunch at Skyline.

All that being said, I couldn't ask for anything else in a parent. They are everything a person could hope for and ask for. Not only are they this wonderful and giving with Sara and I, but it extends to any of our friends, their friends, their friends' children, any homeless person they can find on the street. More than anything else, they are good at giving themselves away. (not necessarily mom's nickyknackies, but definitely her time and herself)

Luckily for me, that translates to Sara being amazing at it as well. (which also means she married that kind of man). I am continually blessed by Sara and Mike and their willingness, two years into their marriage, to take in the homeless little sister with no job opportunities. I had the message from Mike inviting me to stay here on my phone for two months. I finally had to erase it because I cried every time I listened to it. Not only did they invite me in for this year, but even when I had a plausible job opportunity this summer, Mike suggested I stay another year to save up money.

Nothing in particular prompted this, but I've just been realizing how blessed I am when it comes to my family. They are four amazing people that while two weeks is the vacation limit, I'm glad there's not really a limit. I'm glad that we're all chasing after Christ together. I'm glad that we're in one city, sharing our lives. I'm glad that I get to spend the rest of my life loving and being loved by these four people.

The beginning of peace

I'm not sure how this past week has been different, but suddenly, I'm not stressed or worried about the job (or should I say jobless) situation. No, it's not because new opportunities are popping up endlessly and so I feel secure that something will work out. It's not even that I've got something now that will be an adequate bill payer. I just happened to not stress or feel overwhelmed this week while thinking about said sad situation. I'm not sure if this is me finally learning to trust, or pure apathy (which with me is actually a very good possibility), but either way I'll take it.

Maybe it all goes back to finally enjoying the ride. It's maybe one of my more favorite little ditties I've ever read (and it probably ups it a few spots since I wrote it) but here goes:

why do we count on plans and hopes instead of living in what he has granted us today in the here and now? i long for the day when i will stop planning for the next stop to arrive. when i will stop searching my bags for a map and instead press my face eagerly against the window awaiting the scenery he has planted for me to enjoy while i ride.

And maybe that time is finally here. Maybe, for some odd reason, tomorrow seems far enough away (and harmless enough) that I'm able to just sit back and enjoy the ride until then. I think peace is finally here. And I'll tell you what.. peace is always welcome.

Last one (Lost Entries v.3)

Sevenish hours into an eight hours plan ride that will shortly be followed by a six hour car drive. My legs are actually missing the walking. Who thought that would happen? But as the journey of fun, wonder, and confusion comes to an end, I'll end it at my hearts' home.

I've never been more content not living in Virginia anymore, but it will always be a place that my heart finds true rest. And after all this confusion and frustration, rest will be welcomed. Not rest in the typical sense. I woke up at 630am London time this morning, and probably won't get to sleep until around midnight Virginia time. Twenty-three straight hours will be rough; it'll probably hit me in the last hour of West Virginia.

But at the end of the road is camp. And around thirty Finneytown kids who are going to be hearing the first half of the gospel in about five hours. It's a tough night, BUT the glory of the gospel lies in wait. Tomorrow is the day. It's the day the lazy leader has relied on and it's His chance to be made known. Kids can hear it any day, but there is something sacred about cross talk night at Young Life camp.

It may come from how many people I love that met Christ on that night. He used that night to call everyone else on my team. There are always an awe-inspiring amount of hands up when the question is asked at Leader Weekends. There are exceptions, but most people do ministry with Young Life because it was the ministry he used to reconcile with them. I am constantly in awe of the way he uses this ministry and the way that he allows us to be a part of it. We get the chance to be part of eternity. The kids that we spend time with and lead, they're hearing the gospel. The same gospel that healed the lame, called out the dead, turned Saul into Paul, and gave me grace.

Today is the day they will hear about their fallenness. But tomorrow. Well tomorrow is the day they will hear about what lengths he went to to rescue them. Tomorrow is the day they'll see grace. End of story. And what a sweet story it is.

Lost Entries v.2

It's the last day in London and I found I have journaled very little; despite a constant barrage of thoughts, plans, and emotions. Maybe it just comes down to the fact that this whole vacation has been very fantastical and has only allowed me to entertain more and more unrealistic ideas of the future.

If I struggled being six hours away from my family/home, amidst my best friends, why do I think I would succeed across the ocean by myself? Everything seems fun and easy until I have to rely on the busy, hot tube and have to deal with the constant shoving. I think I get swept up with ideas that within the confines of my life, I wouldn't even think to entertain. I'm so bewildered by my lack of direction that I've started trying to go in every direction. I can't do all those things; I can barely succeed at what I try to do.

I'm sure it's not really true, but I think I'm past the tears now. I'm onto just pure confusion.. and maybe a little anger. It's confusing to think that this plan for my future (that which brings hope) looks like this. I'm finding it hard to hope for much these days. Everything I hope (and subsquently do a wee bit of planning) my hopes fall through. It's never THE plan.

The plan seems to be waiting; constant, relentless, waiting. Getting mediocre versions of my dreams if I get them at all. And I'm surrounded by a great small group who seem to have at least something working out for each of them. I watch their marriages, hear about the ups and downs of their jobs, and visit their homes. I am constantly reminded, without intention, that I am lacking those things. And I know those aren't things that are important in the scheme of the kingdom. I just struggle because I desire them. So much. And they're not bad things to desire. And most of the times (hey, I'm human) I desire them for reasons to further the kingdom.

I want a job at a school so that I can love on kids. I want to make sure they do well so that they can communicate well in their futures. I want them to know that not only is someone rooting for them, but that someone already believes they can do it. I want them to be challenged in their studies and in their lives. I want them to desire more for themselves because it's been communicated that they CAN have been and that they deserve it.

Believe it or not, I don't just want a boy so I can date a boy. I want a husband to love. A man to lead me more towards Christ. I want a godly man that can help me love and minster to my foster kids. I want someone to bicker with, who will challenge me.

I want a home to care for. I want a place that girls know they can crash if they need an ear or a bed. I want them to be able to be cared for well, at ANY time. I want them to see a healthy marriage and what a godly man looks like. I want them to see it's worth waiting for and that it's not okay to settle for a man who doesn't love the Lord.

And I know that I also want all of it for selfish reasons, but those aren't it. I'm just not sure what He's using these years for that he couldn't have done with just one of those things worked out. I continually come back to the feeling of just being lost.

Lost Entries

I had some entries that I prepared while away, across the pond, which never made it onto here in the bustle of Virginia, Ohio, Virginia, Ohio. So as not to deprive you of the joy of reading my innermost thoughts, I will post them both now.

We saw Romeo and Juliet tonight, exactly how it should have looked. Under the London sky, pigeons abounding, minus makeup and microphones, the bard's most loved play tugged at my heart. Because what mere preteens found so easily, I cannot seem to make my way towards; direction.

I feel so unsure about what I'm supposed to do. So unsure and confused. I keep finding myself in situations that I get really excited about and nothing comes of it. I got excited about teaching middle school (I know, right?!) and it didn't happen. I randomly got swept up in the idea of field staff internationally and that's a far distant dream, if I even pursued it.

Sitting in the theater tonight, I am reminded of the joy I had whenever on the stage. The wonder of being so swept up in a character, you become them. Their hurts, betrayals, tears; they're yours too. You weep not as an actress but because your heart is truly broken.

I sat in the theater tonight and had to lag behind so no one would see my tears. These, despite being in a theater, were mine; are mine. Tears of a child who is lost and can't seem to find her way. If only I had gotten myself lost at Disney. Those people at City Hall are so good at finding things.

Home across the pond

I still have a week left, and this whirlwind vacation has been exhausting. Don't get me wrong, I love it. I very well would move here if given a job, but nonetheless I am exhausted and ready for sleep. And amidst the chaos and crowds, I find myself, tonight, at home. Funny that a tiny store that I generally only visit in four hour increments, unless late into the morning, would seem like home, even across the ocean. But I find myself, in the stress and joy of family tonight, in an Apple store. Because it's the one thing here that is a piece of home. I can come here and I know what I need to know. Heck, I find myself checking their cable management and staffing. (It's okay to laugh at this. I know it is slightly creepy). But, with a sigh, I must go back to my night out on the London streets. Dont' feel bad for me, if anything you should be jealous because this place is by far one of my favorites. (fun fact: the computer wants to correct my spelling to be british. I am remaining firmly american) Enjoy your nights, or days for you kids across the pond, and perhaps I shall see you in the coming weeks ahead.

What Now?

The waiting is over, and I still find myself with a lack of patience. I didn't get the job. I kind of want to end it there because I don't know what to say. No one does. Unfortunately, that doesn't always stop people from pretending they do, so I have had a variety of conversations which I had to stop and walk away from or hang up the phone. There is no easy answer here.

I came home from a place that I loved because I was excited to teach. I was actually excited to spend my days with high school kids. I absolutely adore them. They are so honest and vulnerable when you least expect it and they just want to experience life. I came back and was given the opportunity to pursue these kids at Finneytown. It may look different from when I was there, but those same kids are there. I sometimes sit while subbing and try and figure out who I would've hung out with. Who in the class will eventually be me?

I was astatic when I heard there would be an opening, admittedly I was disappointed it was middle school, but by the time I interviewed, I was excited about it. I had a good interview, I didn't get a rejection letter right away. And typical Mandy fashion, I started planning. I planned how my August would look, how I would decorate my classroom, when we would have to do family vacations since my spring break wouldn't line up with Mike's, what I would do in my summer off.

Now, I'm just trying to figure out where to go from here. I don't have experience and apparently that's important. Funny, because I even addressed that in my cover letter. I was very proud of that little snippet. And yet, there are no opportunities for experience. So what do I do? Wait and hope that subbing is enough experience? Because if that was really the case, I would have a job now. I am supposedly a very popular sub with good ratings. But instead, I need real experience, which is completely valid. If only there was a way for teachers to get experience so they can get hired to teach. (I apologize for the cynicism only a little. I think I'm allowed to be a little bitter, especially since this is my blog). All that being said, I'm left in a bit of a conundrum. I now either need a job or I have to go back to school to keep my license. But if I can't get a job without experience what help will keeping my license be.

More than anything, I just feel lost. I felt like this whole year had a purpose behind it. I was enduring it to get to the happy part; where my subbing and getting my foot in the door paid off with my own classroom. It's all I want. And it's the one thing that apparently I'm not going to get.

sigh...

and so begins the 11 days of not much at all. I will hopefully have great news at the end, with me developing an immense love for running. (especially since my idea to pool it up at the city pool daily died since the pool doesn't open until the 8th) Let me know if you're bored in june...chances are I am too.

Fun Facts

Here are some random fun facts that I pondered as I drove home from work today.

I love lightening. It is scary at times, and painful/deadly other times, but it is always beautiful. The way it can light up a sky or even just a portion behind a cloud. That's just plain beautiful and lightening makes me happy.

I hate mustaches. I think they're creepy and make men seem more sketchy than they probably are. That being said, there was once a guy (probably around my age) who came into the Apple store with a mustache that I adored. I don't know why, although it was kind of handlebar'ish. Anyway, I saw him in the mall as I was leaving today (creepy that I have started recognizing people solely because I work in a mall) and it was gone. I left the mall slightly depressed over that fact.

I am about to have 11 days to do nothing. I have no work. That is scary and exciting. My goal is to fall in love with running. (and go to the local city pool a lot) If nothing else, I'll just drive my self crazy because I still haven't heard about the stupid teaching job.

I really enjoy classical music in my car lately. I enjoy imagining what would be happening in a jane austen novel at each point in the song. I sometimes imagine myself in said jane austen novel with accompanying classical music.

It stinks when you realize you're a friendgirl. That's what I'm naming it when you know you'll never go from friend to gf. It also stinks when said friendboy says imagine we're dating to illustrate a point. Would it have been creepy if I said, I mean I've done that before, this should be easy. I think it would have been.

I'm exhausted and want to spend a week at the river. I just want a vacation from my completely non-hectic life.

I learned a lot about commitment last year. About being true to my word and persevering through things we don't enjoy. I have learned a lot about patience this year. I have bucked against this one a lot I think. Because I am never okay with waiting. I'm not satisfied knowing that eventually it'll all make sense. That someday, I'll see God's hand in all of this waiting. Despite that, or maybe because of that, he continues to attempt to teach me patience. Patience and trust. I think you can't have patience without trust; so maybe what I'm really learning is to trust. Trust that He really does have a plan, and it really is better. Even if it is slow. and not what I want. and painful to wait for. and painful to receive.

Taylor Mali

I had coffee with a friend today and we were talking about the relationship that parents have with education. I talked about a line from this poem. When I got home, I looked it up to look at the poem in its entirety. It's just a marvelous read (as someone hoping to teach) and therefore, I am sharing it. I'm also including a link to a video of him performing it, as it is slam poetry, which is best when viewed, not read. I don't love this necessarily just because of the teacher part, but he's just amazing to watch and obviously so passionate about teaching. And who doesn't want that?


He says the problem with teachers is, "What's a kid going to learn
from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?"
He reminds the other dinner guests that it's true what they say about teachers:
Those who can, do; those who can't, teach.

I decide to bite my tongue instead of his
and resist the temptation to remind the other dinner guests
that it's also true what they say about lawyers.

Because we're eating, after all, and this is polite company.

"I mean, you're a teacher, Taylor," he says.
"Be honest. What do you make?"

And I wish he hadn't done that
(asked me to be honest)
because, you see, I have a policy
about honesty and ass-kicking:
if you ask for it, I have to let you have it.

You want to know what I make?

I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional medal of honor
and an A- feel like a slap in the face.
How dare you waste my time wiht anything less than your very best.

I make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall
in absolute silence. No, you may not work in groups.
No, you may not ask a question.
Why won't I let you get a drink of water?
Because you're not thirsty, you're bored, that's why.

I make parents tremble in fear when I call home:
I hope I haven't called at a bad time,
I just wanted to talk to you about something Billy said today.
Billy said, "Leave the kid alone. I still cry sometimes, don't you?"
And it was the noblest act of courage I have ever seen.

I make parents see their children for who they are and what they can be.

You want to know what I make?

I make kids wonder,
I make them question.
I make them criticize.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them write, write, write.
And I make them read.
I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful
over and over and over again until they will never misspell
either of those words again.
I make them show all their work in math.
And hide it on their final drafts in English.
I make them understand that if you got this (brains)
then you follow this (heart) and if someone ever tries to judge you
by what you make, you give them this (the finger).

Let me break it down for you, so you know what I say is true:
I make a g@#$@mn difference! What about you?


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxsOVK4syxU

Mountains

It's okay to be confused. She's writing about mountains again!? Crazy, I know. But I got home to Cincinnati late Sunday night, and at campaigners Monday, staring up at me from Kolia's handout, was a quote about mountaintops. With the "ink" still wet on the page of my thoughts about mountains and mountain top experiences, here was Henri Nouwen saying everything my heart was thinking. Therefore, I will share it with you.

Why is it so important that you are with God and God alone on the mountaintop? It's important because it's the place in which you can listen to the voice of the One who calls you beloved. To pray is to listen to the One who calls you "my beloved daughter", "my beloved son", "my beloved child." To pray is to let that voice speak to the center of your being, to your guts and let that voice resound in your whole being.

This made me groan at its truth and laugh at how it plays into my life. I got to the top of the mountain and all I wanted was to take pictures. I love that view, as earlier stated, and want to share it. However, after two quick pictures, my camera turned off. It was out of battery. And unfortunately, as cool as my mountain is, it does not have outlets. I sat there frustrated for a few seconds before hearing a small voice say this isn't for them. This is for you and me and only us. This isn't something I want you to share. It's here just for you. He took away what I was trying to distract myself with; even if it was unintentional.

This quote made me laugh because of the constant struggle I've been having with my darling mother about a tattoo I've been considering. A few years ago I thought about how I would love to have a tattoo under my wedding band. That my husband and I could each have something. I was thinking the verse about I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine. The more I thought about it, and the older I got, the more I didn't want it to be with my husband. That verse wasn't meant to talk about the relationship I would have with a man someday but with the relationship I already have with Christ. That led to me wanting it more and more before there was ever a boy in the picture. And all I want is beloved. I want to be reminded, just like that small voice tries to remind me amidst the noise, that I am the beloved of Christ.

Real Job

I applied today for the job opening at Finneytown. That is really exciting first off because there is an opening, and because I am applying. I got my stuff in a few weeks ago and the job was posted this morning. Better believe I was ready for that sucker and just had to hit apply.

While on the magical job website, I noticed a posting for Indian Hill. For those of you that don't know, Indian Hill is the really nice, expensive part of town. (Lets just say these kids don't want for much monetarily..and that's actually how you spell it) After much debate, a phone call, a text, and a few good friends' advice, I just applied for that job as well. (I can always say no, right?)

It's interesting the more I think about it. Because if Finneytown hires for the job that was vacated, then I have a shot at teaching seventh and eighth grade english. Not my preference, but a job is a job and I'd have my own class. The Indian Hill job is high school and I'm pretty sure either communication, speech, drama or all of the above. (those rich schools and their english electives) I would also have the option, maybe with a large shove behind it, to do the theater productions. And that may be my dream job. Downfall being, it's not Finneytown.

I've invested so much of my stinking heart into that school to just walk away now. Could the call really have been to invest so much in such a short period of time to end up somewhere else? And if not then why taunt me with this perfect job just for the not so ideal one (job wise) be the one that is supposed to be?

Why is it that even when it feels like everything is on the verge of working out, or even just one area is going to start working out, it doesn't. Instead it seems to pour confusion down on my head. Confusion without solution. I'm ready to sleep until the answer comes. Wake me up if you hear any news.

Blue Ridge Mountains

Sitting in the middle of the Blue Ridge Mountains, I can't help but feel small. My favorite hike ends with a rock formation, jutting off of the side of the mountain. (It's what is in the picture) It is a magnificent view that, despite the pictures I take, can never be accurately captured or conveyed.

Life has been frustrating lately. It's as if no matter how much I write, I can't convey my thoughts. The words coming from my mouth aren't coming from my heart. And no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get enough oxygen.

And yet, here I sit in the Virginia breeze, with the sun on my face, working on my Chaco tan, and my sigh works. It's finally enough and I have caught my breath. The thoughts come effortlessly and the words flow eloquently across the page.

I could sit here forever. I could sit and stare at the view until my time was up. On this mountain, joy and peace seem attainable. As I lean back on the "rock chair", God is so real. I can't take in the view here and not believe. It would be impossible to look at this and not believe in a Creator who longs to woo our hearts.

It makes the walk down the mountain to the car so debilitating. With each step I feel the burdens pile back on. As much as the walk up was exhausting, because it is exhausting to climb a mountain, my load seemed to get lighter with each step. And the walk down does the opposite, which brings dread when you know you have to leave. Because who wants to walk away from a mountaintop?

Maybe that's why they call spiritual highs mountaintop experiences. Because up here, He's so obvious. Life is so peaceful and following Him makes so much sense. Makes me wonder why I ever chose to move away from these mountains.

Reset Prayer Experience

Crossroads, my church, did a prayer experience this week to go along with the Reset journey that we have been on the past five weeks. The journey focuses on resetting the assumptions that we have about Jesus. I have missed the prayer experience that went along with the past two journeys at Crossroads, and I was very hesitant about this one. Wow am I glad that I went. Here are just some thoughts I came away with because the last challenge was to share our story.

Reconciliation. There is nothing I want more. There is no one I desire to be closer to. Nothing that will fill my heart with more joy. And yet I protect my heart from the one thing that won't break it. Not only will He not break it, but He will restore it. Restore it to His glory.

He isn't afraid of the lies I believe in because He came to blow them away and replace them with truth. The truth that comes whenever we ask, that we are surrounded by daily. I callenge you to watch a sunrise on the Atlantic or fog lift slowly over the Blue Ridge Mountains and not know the truth it proclaims.

HE LOVES US. HE WOULD GO TO ANY LENGTH TO WOO OUR HEARTS. OUR REDEEMER LIVES. HE KNOWS MORE AND HE KNOWS BETTER. and the still, small voice in my heart whispers, it's all for you manderella.

He is the only one who can save me from this web of lies I live in. I am good enough for I am the beloved of Christ. And as a child of God the list of "I am"'s is endless. Forgiven, accepted, recieved, heir, defended, nurtured, companion, fed, child, protected, loved, redeemed, saved. All I have to do is recieve these things. I have to accept the gifts of His love and protection, the inheritance I have as an heir. These things are available to me, but I must recieve them. "This is for you, you only have to come and take it".

He will go to any length to assure that we have the ability to choose him. That's a line I copied down from the audio guide. I love that it is so honest about the fact that ultimately the choice comes down to us. A choice has to be made.

No title can suffice

I love having pictures to start off the blog. When it came to a title and a picture, however, I couldn't think of or find a single thing that would adequately describe or illustrate this past weekend. Last weekend, Finneytown (as well as the rest of Cincinnati, Dayton, and Columbus) went on Campaigner weekend. For those of you who don't know, although I don't know who those people could be, Campaigners is the "bible study" for Young Life. We took an impressive nineteen kids; a hodge podge group of kids that aren't all necessarily close, or friends. (Not that they didn't get along, but they didn't all hang out) The weekend went well. Rick Shaerr talked (I apologize, but I know his name is spelled wrong) and did amazing, as he always does. We had good talks in the girls room on Friday night as well as during our quiet time in the morning. Seminars went well and we even spent the afternoon all together with lunch and then bowling. After Saturday's campaigners, we had "cabin time" as a school all together.

I clearly am not going to list everything said, for many reasons, but if nothing else because there is no way to clearly write what transpired. I tried to take notes and remember details on Sunday after we got home, but it was all so emotional that I have no idea if I even remembered half of it. Basically, if I were to sum it into one sentence, it would be "He showed up". We ask for signs, we ask for His presence. Well, we got it. And it was unlike anything I have ever experienced.

I've been smiling for the past few days now. (The day after smile is one of those great things in life.) I cannot seem to get over the fact of how great my God is and how gracious He is to allow us to watch and be a part of things when He moves. Nineteen kids. They were vulnerable with each other, they were real about their lives, and we were all broken.

I wish I could tell you, because who wouldn't be excited about this? I wish there was a way to describe so that people could understand, could catch the vision, but it may just be one of those situations in life you had to experience for yourself or you'll never fully understand. I can tell you one thing for sure, He showed up and I wouldn't trade that night for the world because He is real.

Lackluster Banter

This is what often happens when I make jokes. People tend to think I'm funny. (I'm not bragging. In the clique, I was the funny one. It's just truth.) I have my lame moments, don't worry. Sometimes the joke works better in my head than when it actually comes out. I wish I could press rewind in those moments so that I can maintain my image of funniness, but maybe those moments make it all the more real. (or maybe that was an example of me failing.)

I have an interesting phenomenon, though, that I have been seeing run rampant through my life recently. If it is a relatively new friendship, I am not witty. I think it comes with the shy thing. However, if we are talking over an email or other such media, I can still banter with the best of them. I must be such a disappointment in person then. I have a friend I've been talking with through messages and I like to think I've come across as quite charming. In person, I flounder for words and am awkwardly quiet. Hopefully, I only come across as shy and not as if I have split personalities.

Maybe, one day, the banter will happen in real life. I know it's plausible. Now, if only it were possible.

Same Old

I haven't written much lately. Not only here, but anywhere. I have found myself in a writing dry spell and hadn't even noticed it until last night. I saw my lonely notebook sitting by my bed and decided to pay it a visit. Quickly I remembered, I haven't written much because all of it tends to grow weary when you write the same things over and over again. I have already written about how I feel like I'm in this transitional period that is lasting far longer than any transitional period should. That I'm just waiting for my real life to start; or at least one part of it to fall into place. And with that, I've spelled out life for the past 5 months.

It's weird to think I've been home for just under five months and yet today was quite similar to the second day home. Yesterday, much like the fourth day home. It all almost seems to blend together. I've come up with more interesting things to do than in the beginning (although I still visit the redbox rentals far too often), but life continues to be the same. But more interesting than the fact that my life remains on slow motion, is the odd fact that I haven't been back to Lexington since I left.

I was chatting with Kari the other day about my upcoming visit to Lexington. We both remarked how I hadn't been back. I realized this is the longest I've ever been between visits since before I ever did summer staff. It's been a four year "affair" and I seemed to have walked away cold turkey. Now granted, I've been spoiled by visits. I have had Kari visit twice as well as once with almost the whole gang. But I miss the foggy mornings in the Blue Ridge Mountains. I haven't been able to enjoy my old home since I took the long ride back to Cincinnati.

That all being said, I think I'm going to have to find some time, to sit on those mountains, perhaps by my river, and take up some writing. It might be repetitive but it'll be genuine. The words won't flow elegantly across the page, but slowly the story will be written, life will start moving, and I'll be glad to have those choppy sentences to look back on.

I think it's just over this last bridge

I'm tired of being patient. (even if I've never really been all that good at it to begin with) I am in this odd in between stage of life where nothing is really settled and everything is in the air. In all honesty, there is some excitement and fun in that. Without a full-time job, I can come and go as I please. I have yet to do that, but I could if I wanted to. (and if I could afford all that gas) I have freedom also, because I don't have a house that I need someone to watch. I don't even have an apartment for someone to watch. I have a bed, but that doesn't really need much watching. I also have the freedom of no significant other. If I decided to move to Colorado, I only have to consider Jeni (which is almost worse than a boy; he might actually be okay with living in the Rockies and rafting down the Arkansas) All in all, having things in the air isn't inherently bad.

I think that's where most people stop. They see all the advantages of the freedom. But, crazily enough, I want to grow up. I want to have my own place to allow others to visit and hang out. I want the full time job that I can really go all out for and invest in. I want the boy that expects dinner at night. I think it's just hard because I don't see the freedom in those. And maybe that's a slight nudge that I need to have a change of perspective, but I don't think that those desires are bad. I think that God planted those desires in my heart. The desire to take care of people comes out in every one of those aspects; whether through my hospitality, my teaching, or my loving.

I know that His timing is better than mine. I know that. Sometimes I just don't see it. Sometimes I just want to be a kid again because I want to pout and maybe even yell a little. He's big enough to take that. The only downfall is, much like when we were kids, throwing a tantrum doesn't change the outcome. It just leaves you with a wet face and a sore throat.