Nashvegas

I spent the weekend in Nashville with a friend. It may be one of the most entertaining cities in so many ways. I love the laid back feeling, despite the actual city, the resonates through Nashville. While I sometimes feel a bit unfashionable, I adore the style of those that live within the city limits. Kari and I couldn't help laughing at times; picking out people we were positive were going to be famous singers. Above all, it's an amazing city to just bop around. There's plenty to do and see and enjoy. At the same time, there are a plethora of places to just hang out and write or read.

Today, at the tail end of our adventure, we had breakfast with an old friend of mine. Despite not having seen each other in quite some time (I estimate six years), it was relaxing to sit and chat about what life looks like now. It was great to just listen to him and Kari converse and remember why we're friends. Sometimes, I get frustrated at friendships lost, but it is always fun to see a friend that you thought might be at that stage and just laugh at all your memories. Because it's crazy to think that we met when I was in middle school. It's even more weird to think about how much easier our friendship would have been these days with the ease of communication, but in the olden days, we had to work for it. I'm glad, that something like eleven years ago, we met and became friends. And that somehow, through the years, we kept it up.

Calm

This is the calm after the storm. I just spent two and a half months teaching middle school. If that is not a storm, I'm not sure what is. But now that is over and I get to bop around for a month before teaching 10th grade. Life is good. Still exhausting, but manageable. Also, hopeful. I have some ideas for summer and am hopeful about finding a real teaching job for next year. The experience from this year will help a lot.

This is the calm after the storm. And I know there are more storms to come, but I am hopeful. And for that, I am grateful.

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.