Just ask for the ice cream [The follow-up]

"These things-the beauty, the memory of our own past- are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers.  For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited."

-CS Lewis in The Weight of Glory

***

Recently, I wrote a post about asking for what you truly want. What started as a simple conversation quickly turned into something much bigger, and before I knew it, I was receiving a lot of feedback on the topic.  For whatever reason, the post climbed in readership, where it sits second only to a post about  this website.

[Disclaimer: if you know nothing about Maddie the coonhound, or 

Theron Humphrey's current project, 

stop reading this and start reading that. It's much more interesting, I promise.]

***

I never thought the topic was particularly profound- in fact, I felt mildly guilty that people were sharing it under my name.  The concept was not original to my mind- I simply decided to write it down. But I think I get it. I think we all like the idea that we might get what we want. We want to believe that our desires matter, and sometimes good things just happen. Our human nature is programmed to receive more naturally than to give, yet we spend much of our lives fighting grace and good things that come because we think we should.  I think it's a beautifully intricate concept to learn how to accept gifts, and it was refreshing to think that sometimes, it okay just to ask for what we really want, and even more beautiful to experience hopeful anticipation.  

But here's the thing: I didn't get what I wanted.  It's weird to want something so badly & not get it. Sometimes we can want something for an extraordinary amount of time, to the point where we are consumed by the desire for it. Other times, we simply wake up one day & realize that we just don't want it any more. The latter is a bizarre experience, because in the days that followed, I found myself genuinely contemplating whether or not I actually had ever wanted it in the first place. Desires of the heart are complicated like that.  The past few weeks, I've been thinking about what I want. Here's what I've concluded: 

Even when I get what I want, it just doesn't fulfill me. I want what's next & I will always want what's next. My desires are cheapened when they are always granted.  My prayer is that God would not necessary grant for me what I ask from him. Instead, I pray he awakens & transforms my desires by giving me himself- my deepest, yet unrecognized desire. I pray that this transformation allows me to turn from the wells that I believe give me life & reveal to me a fountain which fulfills me beyond what I am aware I want or need.  Breathing freedom from want-for the first time, or for the hundredth time- is a beautiful thing. 

Being present.

"That's how I want to be. That's who I want to be: deeply present in the present, in the mess, in the waiting, in the entirely imperfect right now." -Shauna Niequist 

It always follows the same pattern: 

I stop writing. It might be because I'm busy. It might be because I'm lazy. 

It might be a little bit of both. For whatever reason, I stop, telling myself

I'll write when I have something good to document. Before I know it, 

it's been a long time, and I find myself under the pressure of writing something

profound. If I wait long enough, my writing turns into the occasional life 

update-so occasional that each post holds the expectation that it must have meaning. 

Each post feels like it needs to be a big moment- a life lesson I'm in the middle of, or

an experience too good to not have written down. The longer I wait the more I realize

that these moments do indeed come, but are overshadowed by the presumption that

they need to be good enough if I'm going to write them down. 

But the truth is, life has settled down into a series of strikingly ordinary moments lately. 

They just don't seem worth writing down when viewed through the lens that each post

must be extraordinary. 

I've meant to blog for a while now. I even have some significant life updates that I want

to write about. But each time I have sat down to do it, I have been at a loss for how to

document the small moments in between. But this morning, I read a timely article that highlighted

some truth about appreciating here & now, regardless of what here & now looks like. 

Here's to being inspired by the beauty in the ordinary days. 

Thursday Thankfulness// 7.25

Thankfulness lately looks like this:

1. Provision in the form of a new job: Here's to paying the bills a little easier. 

2. Lessons on patience from these guys:

3. Fresh popsicles that melt in the sun.

4. Phone calls with old friends. 

5. Trips home that leave my heart full. 

6. Tough decisions that leave me humbled [in the best way possible]

7. Promises of a hopeful future. 

8. Summer bucket list accomplishments.

9. Whole foods dates with people I love. 

10. Reminders of home.

Fear.

I've always liked to think I was a risk taker. I've always liked to think I was independent, brave, & adventure-seeking. But the truth is, I am not- at least by nature. For as long as I can remember, I have filled my life with interests & activities that would suggest I am this way. I enjoy the outdoors, I love travelling, & I have been known to pursue lofty goals which might ultimately lead to failure. Yet, as much as I'd like to believe I am a "go with the flow & let's see what happens" kind of girl, I am just about as spontaneous as the sunrise; I am both predictable & calculated in almost every decision I ever make. I really have come to terms with this part of my personality, & when given the chance, I attempt to challenge myself through appreciating & practicing flexibility.

Despite my desire to trust a little more, & worry a little less, I am seemingly
paralyzed at times by the unknown. Whether it look like anxiety, complacency, or isolation, I have frequently allowed fear to take an authoritative role in my life. 

The past few days have made me acutely aware of how fear influences my daily

decision-making & ultimately leads to diminished joy in almost everything I do.

As I sat down this week to bring my fears to light, I realized that 

they outnumbered the goals I had in my mind. This is a problem.

I've found that when fear dictates your thought process, simple choices become agonizing, & 

complicated ones become downright unapproachable. 

 That's what fear does, it magnifies the little things until suddenly

everything is a big deal.  But the truth is, 

It's usually not that serious. 

So today, I'm learning to confront my fears.  If I believe that fear is a choice, then

renouncing it is also a choice. 

I dare you to confront a fear today. Here's to being brave. 

***

Learning to wait.

It's funny that I've been having such a hard time feeling inspired lately. 

For the first time in a while, I got into bed early, hoping to get a full night 

of sleep, but before I knew it 

1. I had this song stuck in my head & 

2. I suddenly felt inspired. 

[Not sure if there is causation there, but it happened.]

One of the things I've been thinking about for a while now is what it looks like to wait. 

I've written about it recently, but I've noticed my impatience more & more as I've watched 

my heart change over the past year. It seems I'm always waiting for something. 

A year ago, I was waiting to move- in so many aspects of my life:

 physically, emotionally, & spiritually. 

I experienced all of those things in the course of a year. It was all so hard, but so good. 

But now, as I've settled  in many senses of the word, I find myself again waiting.
Or at least it feels like waiting.

I'm waiting for a handful of things, from where I'll be placed next May
to where relationships are going that seem to be moving at a snail's pace.
But the truth is, I'm not so much waiting as I am worrying.
Amidst it all, I feel like I'm waiting for myself to be patient & to just be still.
It seems like such a strange way to put it- that I'm waiting for myself to be patient,
but that's what it seems I'm doing lately.  

Sometimes I feel like I don't even give my prayers & desires a chance to be answered.
I never get to experience the true feeling of waiting, because I don't sit still long enough
to expect answers to come. I either talk myself out of it, or work full-force toward accomplishing
things myself. Neither of these things tend to end well for me.
Instead of patient expectance, I'm left with the disappointment of my own failed
manipulation, or the frustration that I never got to see the answer
because I simply didn't give it the time to get there.

Today, I'm learning to wait. I'm learning to be patient. I'm learning that the things that
are worth it take time, & the process of accepting things as they come is
often more rewarding than the results themselves.

Prayers That Have Changed Me [2]

I am just pages away from finishing my most recent journal. I love the closure that writing on that last page brings & I also love the excitement of starting new in a blank book. Today, both of those things feel pretty good. As I flipped through an old journal today, I came across a Psalm I had written down as a prayer on today's date, one year ago. I didn't realize it then, but I coincidently read the same chapter this morning. It's pretty neat how things work like that. 

"I'm more certain than ever that prayer is at the heart of transformation. I'm also certain that God's will has a lot more to do with inviting us to become more than we previously have been than about getting us to one very specific destination." 

-Shauna Niequist in Bittersweet

Just ask for the ice cream

The other night I got a phone call from this girl. She & I met my junior year at 

CSU when I found myself leading her freshman bible study & desperately wanting

her to think I was cool. My plan worked, & we became fast friends, sharing a love for trail running, nutrition, Jesus, & the outdoors. Over the next four years, we built a friendship that I 

grew to deeply cherish. 

The phone call was short, & for the most part, insignificant. It was a welcome relief from the marathon

of paper writing I was participating in, yet I wasn't able to give it much time. I had briefly stepped outside of the coffee shop I was working at for the night, & before I had to return to my papers, I 

mentioned to her some of the prayer requests I had lately. She was familiar with most of them, &  I shared with her my frustration that nothing was really moving forward. 

She assured me that she would continue praying, &  I knew she meant it. It's a rare thing

to be able to fully trust someone in that way, & I have been recently reminded of the blessing

of friends who just know you like that. One of the last things she said to me is this: 

"Laura, just ask for the ice cream. It's what you want."

I've been thinking about it ever since. 

Out of context, it sounds a little bit bizarre. But the simplicity of the analogy contains

a profound truth about what I believe about God, & I am so thankful she pointed it out. 

Lately, when it comes to prayer, I approach God from a standpoint of, 

"If it is your will, do                        ." & there's nothing wrong with that. 

In fact, there's something beautiful about abandoning control through praying for God's

ultimate direction in your life. It helps me recognize how big he is & how small I am.

But somewhere in the process of wanting him to transform & awaken my desires,

I've lost the childlike anticipation of asking him for what I really want. 

It is easiest for me to envision God when I think of myself as his child, his daughter.

A child approaches her dad and says, "Dad, I want some ice cream." It's simple.

But instead, I find my requests sounding a little more like this: 

 "Dad, if you want to, could you maybe give me some ice cream?

It's totally fine if not, because it might hurt my stomach, or I might be allergic, 

or it will totally ruin my dinner plans, & I really don't want you to 

think I'm greedy, & actually, nope, I'm fine with what I have because 

you know what's best for me, & you probably would have given it to me 

already if you wanted me to have it." 

It's crazy, & all of the innocence & expectation of the request is robbed by my

inability to vocalize what it really is that I want. I fear the request itself,

 but what I really should be wondering is whether or not I am okay with

the answer I might receive. God has the power to say, "No." Because

maybe I am allergic, & maybe eating ice cream will be more detrimental to me than good.

Or maybe he'll say, "Sure thing. But how about you wait an hour, because you just

ate & you won't appreciate it fully in this moment." 

But maybe, he'll say, "Yes." & like any good dad, he is delighted by

my request with abandoned hope that he is good & he wants to give me

the desires of my heart. 

***

So here's to asking for what you want. Not the filtered, watered down

version of what you think you deserve, but what you really want. & here's

to expectantly seeking the answer with the full conviction that he is, indeed, a good dad. 

A look back: One year later

June 26th, 2012 was the scariest night of my life. 

That day and the days that followed changed me to my core. 

 If you missed the process one year ago, check it out here. 

Or here. 

Today, instead of remembering the fear I felt as I drove
from my neighborhood for what I thought was the last time, my heart is calm.
Instead of remembering the destruction that was left in the ashes, I am reminded of
the beautiful redemption that followed: the new life that is purer now, having been
refined and made new by fire.

"Behold, I am making all things new." 

What sweet truth. 

Prayers that have changed me [1]

As much as I enjoy blogging, I have spent much more of my life archiving things in a written journal.

There is something about using a pen and paper that forces me to slow down a bit &

be fully engaged in the art of documentation. 

My mom told me recently that I have kept a journal for as long as she can remember. 

I have not a single memory of a time when I wasn't keeping track 

of my thoughts, whether it be a quote scribbled on my hand [which I still frequently do]

or through my first online journal 11 years ago. 

[which is safely buried in the depths of the internet, 

only to be looked at when I need a quick ego demolition. Yikes.]

I have a box of old journals in my closet that I have written in throughout

my life, & it is honestly one of my most cherished possessions. 

One of my favorite things to write in journals are prayers. I find that writing

down prayers helps keep my wandering mind focused, & I enjoy 

looking back to see how God has answered each one of them- sometimes

in remarkable ways.

Since I've been lacking inspiration lately, I thought I'd come up with a new miniseries.
I want to flip through my old journals and find prayers, quotes, or entries that changed me.
I think it's important to pay attention to these things when I get caught up in the busyness of life.
That's where I am right now, & I think it'll be a good reminder that I am being continually sought by
a loving, personal God. It is my hope that these reflections will remind me of the dynamic,
exciting journey I am on.
  

Lessons on provision.

I found myself lying awake at 4 this morning, after a fitful few hours of attempted sleep. I got into bed completely exhausted, & it made little sense as to why sleep just wouldn't come.

My body, mind, & soul all felt restless in every sense of the word.  

My head raced through conversations, scenarios, & interactions I'd

had over the past couple days. If I'm honest in my introspection, I could say that I sort of knew a night

like this was coming. I spent most of the day unsuccessfully battling a heavy heart & I attempted sleep at the summit of the heartache. I hate sleepless nights like this, but lately

I've become more familiar with them. 

I can't help but relate to the words of this song:

"Even in my dreams, I am restless... looking for you."

It's strange how sleeplessness & the hours in the middle of the night can 

influence your perspective so deeply. As I sat in my bed, I felt a hopelessness fill

my bedroom, & every small thought on my mind- from my growing to-do list to

the deeper matters of my heart- seemed to be magnified by my exhaustion & lack of rest. 

In that moment, I was overwhelmed by my inability to control even the simplest thing

like sleep. 

I checked my phone in an attempt to distract my mind from my heart, 

& saw a text that said this: 

"God is our strength & our portion. He is more than enough."  

The timing & truth of those words was magnified in that moment, & as

that understanding grew, my mind slowly grew more clear.

For the first time since I had gotten into bed hours before, I felt myself relax. 

At 4 in the morning, in my dark, quiet bedroom, I felt my spirit change.

It is moments like these when I am paralyzed by God's timeliness & provision.

He uses such creative ways to speak to my heart, & it is truly beautiful. 

My prayer on this day is that I might consciously choose to return to that first

love that I have abandoned when I find myself hopeless or heavy-hearted.

It is my prayer for you, too. 

Where you started from

I've started 4 different blog posts in the past couple days. 

None of them will finish themselves. They're sitting as drafts, hopefully

not to stay that way, but as of today, that's where I'll leave them. I just can't

seem to find inspiration today. In a break from school work this morning, I 

stumbled upon this article about rediscovering your creativity. It was what I

needed to hear- that we need to start from our first love, what we cherish, 

what we are, what we value. It's long, but give it a read. It's beautifully written & insightful. 

It reminds me that there are days when creativity just isn't there, & that's okay. 

Words.

"To say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less... that's the whole art and joy of words."
C.S. Lewis
---

Lately I simply haven't wanted to write. There's probably a direct correlation between

this lack of desire & my lack of discipline in my spiritual life lately. It seems that my mind

is full of thoughts about all sorts of things, but without my

routine of hashing it all out with God, I just don't know what to do with it all. 

I hate it when I take a break from writing/processing. It always follows the same pattern. 

First, I  become busy. Then, the busyness turns into laziness

& before I know it, I don't know where to begin, & I contemplate closing this chapter, & 

not blogging anymore. [It's a bit dramatic, but it happens.] The longer I wait,

the more pressure I put on myself to write something substantial, something profound. 

Time goes by, & all of a sudden, I can't remember the lessons I've learned

or the beautiful moments that I wanted to capture in the first place, & it all seems so forced. 

But then I remember why I write. I remember that I love words.

I love the idea of saying the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less,
just the right thing. I can't say this happens to me often, but when it does, it's great.

So here's to breaking the silence, & writing even when I'm
uninspired,
un-profound,
& somewhat unimaginative at times.

Here's to being bold & honest. 

Strengths Finder

The past few weeks have been spent galavanting across the country between Colorado & Florida. It's been great, but I am happy to admit that it feels good to be back in Nashville. I've already spent an afternoon on my favorite porch in the company of good friends & I am excited for the prospects that this summer will bring in this city that I am growing to love. While I haven't done much of anything productive in my last few weeks on break from school, I completed my first assignment for my management & leadership class this summer. I took the strengths finder  to determine how we will work in groups for the collaborate assignments we will complete in school. Those who know me know that anything that seeks to decode the intricacies of human behavior, interaction, & functioning is very interesting to me, so I loved every minute of it. 

Between Myers-Briggs, love languages, and this strengths finder,

[all of which I looked at this week]

I'd say I've had a decent amount of time to reflect on who I am & who my friends are. 

I love it. It almost freaked me out how spot on it was.

Here's my top profile: 

Input

 Chances are good that you absorb all sorts of information from books, publications, or other written

materials. You display a voracious — that is, never fully satisfied — appetite for knowledge. You

devour the written word to savor useful facts. For you, a great day is one during which you have

added new insights to your mind’s storehouse of ideas. Driven by your talents, you acquire lots of new

words from your reading. Examining how each one is used in various sentences probably helps you

grasp multiple meanings. When the definition eludes you, you are apt to turn to the dictionary for

clarification. Your passion for the written word is not reserved for entertainment. You probably are as

eager to dive into complicated, technical, or subject-specific texts as you are to pick up best-selling

books or popular publications. It’s very likely that you simply cannot have too much information. It is

impossible. Like a miner searches for gold day after day, you continually collect new bits of

knowledge. Depending on your other talents, you can delve into one or two interesting topics, or you

can opt to know a little about a wide range of subjects. Your longing for knowledge is unlikely to be

satisfied until you are recognized by others as the ultimate expert in a field or the grand champion of

trivia. Instinctively, you find it easier to befriend people when they tell you what they want to

accomplish. Knowing that much, you probably read books, journals, newspapers, correspondence, or

Internet sites to broaden your knowledge about their interests. When you can share information that

helps people move closer to their goals, you understand each other better. By nature, you fill your

mind with new ideas by asking questions, reading, studying, observing, or listening. Normally, you

accumulate facts, data, stories, examples, or background information from the people you meet.

Determining what they want to accomplish in the coming weeks, months, or years generally satisfies

your curiosity. These insights also allow you to understand why individuals behave they way they do

in different situations.

2. Intellection
3. Empathy
4. Learner
5. Ideation

Blog lovin'

Well, it was only a matter of time before I decided to connect this little page to the world of other people who also have the same hobby of writing their thoughts for the world to see.
[I have no idea what I'm doing...] But you can follow me here:

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

The rebirth of a vision

Back in August, I wrote this. To date, that entry was one of the hardest I've ever written.

Not only was the actual writing part hard for me, but realizing that something

I knew God had given me was left to die just plain hurt.  Writing that post was humbling at best, & even as I allowed the words to be typed by my fingers, I refused to fully believe that what I was writing was true. Looking back now, I think I was just too stubborn to admit that the plan I was constructing for my life might not have been the best, right one. I remember telling my friend about a vision I had regarding my future. He said, "The only way to know that a prophecy is true is if it comes to be. I know that's not what you want to hear, but you'll make yourself crazy unless you fully surrender it & be patient."I didn't realize it then, but that was the beginning of a long, tiresome battle of learning to wait. I'm fairly certain it's a lesson I'll be learning most of my life. 

Despite the wisdom I was receiving at the time, I wrote that blog post, but simultaneously kept my heart hardened. It did feel good to admit, in some sense, that I had been wrong, kind of how it ultimately feels good to apologize & tell someone that you're sorry. It's a painful kind of good, the relief you feel once you recognize that you aren't in control. However, I think I held onto hope that ultimately my plan, my vision, my idea of my future would prevail. 

That blog post inspired conversation with a few different people. 

I received emails, texts, and a couple messages about how I was not alone in the process 

of realizing that sometimes, visions just die. I was told stories of heartbreak & triumph, 

the birth of passions, & the dissolving of dreams. Suddenly, my

struggle to surrender to a bigger plan didn't leave me feeling so alone. Again, this was

the beginning of a much bigger lesson I'd take with me for the next season of life. 

For the first time, I realized that people actually read this thing. 

That was both exciting & terrifying to know.

Sometime between August and now, I finally surrendered that vision. 

I realized that there is a season for everything in life & a time for all things. 

But as I sat at a coffee shop Thursday morning, I realized that the entirety of the plan

I had for myself wasn't untrue at all. Sure, the details of where I thought I'd be on this day

are much different than I envisioned them when I first gained that glimpse of my future. 

But Thursday, I saw the redemption of the heart of that vision: that my future was promising

& exciting & so different from what I originally thought, but so equally beautiful.

 There was life to be found in that old vision, albeit the details had changed.
It was a beautiful realization to see all of that come full circle. 

It was like I was realizing, for the first time that death is never permanent. 

It always give birth to new life. Life always wins. 

Surprise

I needed to hear this today. Maybe you do, too.

"He was always outstripping his mercies with his own newly invented needs. His very power of enjoyment destroyed half of his joys.  By asking for pleasure, he lost the chief pleasure;

 for the chief pleasure is surprise. 

Hence, it became evident that if a man would make his world large, he must be always making himself small. Even the haughty visions, the tall cities, and the toppling pinnacles are the creations of humility. Giants that tread down forests like grass are the creations of humility. Towers that vanish upwards above the loneliest start the creations of humility. For towers are not tall unless we look up at them; and giants are not giants unless they are larger than we. All this gigantesque imagination, which is, perhaps, the mightiest of the pleasures of man, is at the bottom entirely humble. It is impossible without humility to enjoy anything- even pride."
-G.K. Chesterton, in Orthodoxy
["The Suicide of Thought"]

Restless

rest·less--

        Marked by a lack of quiet, repose, or rest.

----

I'll blame the rain that has been falling incessantly on Colorado since I arrived last night. I can count on one hand the memories I have of it ever being this rainy here. Something about the rain almost always leaves me contemplative & downright lost in thought at times. 

Or maybe I'll blame the book I'm reading [Into the Wild]. Something about a good, tragic story
 always leaves me reflective & again, lost in thought sometimes. It seems

these days all I've done is read books that leave me emotionally exhausted.

[I'm ready to move on to this & this.]

But if I'm honest, I know that neither of these things can be held accountable for the constant state of my restless soul. It is no new occurrence that I've found my heart wandering, & there are no recent happenings to blame for the fidgety feelings I've been having lately. I've always been a little bit fickle & unsettled, & frankly, I haven't a clue what to do with myself when given the chance to rest.

I've counted three times this week that different people have told me to rest. Those three times sit atop countless other times throughout my life when I've been told the same thing. It seems I
haven't yet mastered the dimmer switch for my productivity. I'm either on & burning
the candle at both ends or off & virtually crippled by indecision & lack of direction.
I've spent entirely too much time wishing for what's next & then standing on the
other side attempting to revel in the past that I missed out on in my efforts to move forward.

It's not surprising to me that, when I really think about it, all of this comes back to
the fact that I am impatient. I love & also hate that this lesson has been following me
for over a year now. But that's how lessons are. They just keep following you until you get it.

So here's to resting this week.
 Here's to old friends, a family that loves me, & the town I called home for 18 years.
Here's to enjoying the adventures without the fear of missing out elsewhere.
Here's to patience & trust that I'm where I'm supposed to be. 

Letters.

"If it is right, it happens-- The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away." 
John Steinbeck

Most people who know me know that reading is one of my most

very favorite things to do.  I just love the way that a good author can put 

words together in such a way that it can move me so deeply. 

Following closely to my love for books is my love for letters, notes, 

& all things hand-written. When the two meet, it's almost too much. 

My most recent amazon purchase is this: 

My purchase was a rather hasty one, after stumbling across this letter this morning. 

But I'm positive it was a good one. Read it, you'll see why. 

The Non-Competition Curse

Recently, I read a quote by Donald Miller that got me thinking. He said,

"I'm noticing that my less competitive friends accomplish so much less than I do & are so much more content."

----

I thought about these words frequently during the past 2 weeks as I finished projects, typed papers, studied all night for exams, and prepared to finish my second semester of graduate school. In the world of academia, I often struggle to separate myself from the rat race that is academic success. In my heart of hearts, I desire learning over grades, but the system doesn't function that way & I fall into the trap semester after semester despite knowing that it isn't right. It seems like everything about how the world works points to a fundamental truth that success comes to those who work hard enough. The harder we work, the more we gain, & those who get to the top get there through dedication & effort. Basically, if you have enough desire, you'll fight hard enough, & if you fight hard enough, you'll win. 

 I've also thought about that quote in regard to other aspects of my life. Apart from academia, I've always been a little bit frustrated by my lack of competitive spirit. I've often felt torn between this idea of working hard for what I want, yet being patient & allowing myself to receive what God has for me. When I look at my life, I see seasons of passivity sprinkled with dedication which turned into an obsession to get what I wanted. I've learned the hard way that accomplishing things in my own time leads to more destruction than success. Manipulation is a corrosive trait, & the fight for control is one that I have battled most of my life.  Surrender is such a simple word, but such a difficult concept to grasp. 

It all makes me wonder. How hard do you work for what you want? For academic success? For relational success? Is it okay to not want to fight for something that isn't yours to fight for? I fully believe that God has the ability to transform & awaken my desires. I've watched him do it in my life. But I've found that the most receptive position to receive is with an open hand. & competition, in the right contexts, can look a whole lot like a closed one. It makes me think that Donald Miller

might have had something when he equated contentment to freedom from competition. 

The wedding club.

I've been working on a couple different posts the past couple days, but neither of them are coming together easily. My brain seems to be becoming more and more scattered as school winds down.  

But today, I was struck by a thought that I felt was worth documenting. 

I was awoken at 3:30 from a text from an old roommate saying she was engaged. 

Despite how I joke about the ABUNDANCE of save-the-dates on our fridge,

it really is a beautiful thing.

I find deep joy in celebrating the love of my friends & sharing in their journeys.

 [As a side note, if you're looking to get hitched, live with me. 

She is my 7th ex-roommate to get engaged.] 

I responded, excitedly, as I always do, & hurried to class. But as I sat down tonight, 

I thought about how someday, I'll be able to say to someone, 

"Thank you for giving me your heart,"

without the fear of having to give it back.
Glimpses like that are pretty. I'm excited for that day. 

Glimpses of Good

"You will have arrived, not when you are rich, but when the sunset stops you because you see its beauty again. Success is free." -Donald Miller. 

        There are few things that are quite as creepy as blogging about someone who has no idea that he or she is the topic of your wandering thoughts. But as strange as it is at first, I tend to write about people frequently in this way. I find joy in knowing that someone who I am writing about might recognize that they are woven into my words. I think everyone likes to feel special in that way, whether or not they are willing to admit it. I like sharing a secret with whomever I've mentioned through the use of just the right amount of detail for them to identify who I'm talking about, while remaining a mystery to everyone else. More than this,  I enjoy the freedom of knowing that the person I've written about will likely never read the words that I've written about them. Something about documenting those moments feels so dynamic, like the ripple of his or her impact is greater than he or she will ever know. It seems like the purity of the impact would be diminished if the person ever knew its value.

        Occasionally, the way a person moves me is by giving me a glimpse of the future I want. Be it an action, a statement, or choice made, it allows me for a moment to capture a picture of what I hope for. I love moments like these because they are so small, yet profoundly moving. When I think about it, I'd say I've learned more through these unplanned interactions than I have in any other setting.

        Yesterday, as I studied in a local coffee shop, I caught one of these glimpses. A homeless woman came in, loudly asking for some money & help. The room immediately felt palpably uncomfortable by this request. I'd like to think that my first inclination would be to lovingly respond, but being caught in that particular moment, I, too, felt uncomfortable. I hate that I felt that way, but I am willing to admit that it is moments like this that elicit my most genuine response. What felt like a very long 5 seconds of blank stares from everyone in the room as we waited for someone to respond was finally broken by a man roughly my dad's age.

     Everything about what he did seemed so natural for him, & I hoped in that moment that one day I might do the same thing naturally. All he did was treat her lovingly. All he did was treat her like she had value, by asking her name, her story. He walked outside with her, bought her a cup of coffee, & listened to her. She had a voice to him. She had worth to him.

    I spent the rest of the day thinking about this seemingly ordinary moment. This guy had no idea that he was profoundly impacting those around him. At one point, my classmate said, "That's the kind of guy I want to marry." I couldn't agree with her more. I felt compelled to mention to him that I thought what he did was really cool. By this time, he was deep in conversation with his neighbors, & it didn't seem right to interrupt. I wish I had, because the next time I thought about it, he was gone.

   So in the spirit of blogging about those who will never know it, I'd like to say thank you to that man.

Thank you for responding lovingly to someone you had no obligation to. 

Thank you for stepping up & taking a risk. 

Thank you for alerting me to my own distrust & cynicism.

Thank you for modeling a strength of character that I hope one day to have. 

Thank you for exhibiting the overwhelming effect of light in darkness. 

Thank you for showing me a glimpse of what is good. 

Beauty in the Ugly.

       

When I was in high school, I got really into listening to Sufjan Stevens. 

His song, "John Wayne Gacy Jr." always haunted me a little bit, but for some reason, 

I was strangely struck by its beauty. I guess I appreciated Sufjan's literary approach & bravery in writing about such a monstrous human being, & I guess I appreciated the overlap of two of my

loves: music & learning. I was taking abnormal psychology at the local university at the time. 

I remember learning about John Wayne Gacy Jr. in class, & then listening to this song on the way home- each time attempting to understand why a story so ugly could sound so beautiful to my ears.

       Much like everyone else, I spent today reading everything I could about what was happening in Boston. As the story unfolded, I felt helpless, sad, & somewhat sick thinking about everything. I hate that our world is so broken. I hate that people are so messed up that they can intentionally harm each other. I hate that I don't understand it. As I headed to a concert with some friends, we discussed the most recent unfolding of events. By this point, 2 people had been killed, many were injured, 1 suspect was dead, & the other was in custody. One friend said, "I really hope they don't kill him." I agreed, realizing later that I wasn't entirely sure what he meant by it. I didn't know if he meant that this man deserved something worse than that or if he genuinely didn't want another death to result from the death that already existed. I understood & hoped for the latter.  I found myself thinking about it off & on for the rest of the show.

        Tonight, I came home to an empty apartment, & for the first time in a while, I remembered that song. I have no idea why it came up, but almost instantly, my eyes filled with tears, & the final verse repeated through my mind. At the end of the song, Sufjan literally compares himself to the man who killed 33 teenaged boys, by saying, 

"& in my best behavior, I am really just like him. 

Look beneath the floorboards for the secrets I have hid." 

It's a pretty freaking creepy verse. 

But as I think about what has happened in Boston this week, & how I should

react, I am struck by the gravity of those words. I am by no way trying to 

condone the heinous acts of a serial killer or make light of what happened this week.

Clearly both have made a rather momentous impression on me. But it got me thinking if

I believe those words. Do I believe that sin is sin & I am capable of such horrific acts as

much as the next person? Do I believe that the same redemption that was washed me

clean is available to someone who's actions have such destructive, far-reaching effects?

Do I believe that there is beauty to be seen in the ugliest thing imaginable? 

I desperately want to believe these things. I claim to believe them in the calmness of

life, but I am really tested when I react to events like this- Events that break

my heart a little bit & expose the true me, which, I am scared to admit, sometimes

looks a lot like the things I claim to hate. I guess it's times like these that make me
thankful that I don't really have to understand much else besides the power of light to overcome
darkness. All I know is that darkness is darkness, & light has the power to overcome
all of it, if given the chance. 

-Laura

Summer Dreaming

“We are music makers, and we are dreamers of dreams.”

–Roald Dahl

            A few weeks ago, with the shifting of the weather and my sights set on the faint glimmer of summer’s arrival, I felt something stir deep in my soul. Each time I sat down to chip away at my to-do list, my mind wandered. It started slowly at first, but what began as a few simple daydreams soon turned into something I couldn’t stop thinking about.  My mind wandered to warm nights on porches, fireflies over fields, and hammocks strung between trees. It seemed like every time I allowed it to, my mind wanted to dream.  So I let it.  This weekend I finally sat down & channeled the dreams into something tangible. It came onto paper in the form of a bucket list. While I was once worried about my first summer in Nashville, I am excited for the prospect of a southern summer in a city I am quickly growing to love. The list is a work in progress. There are items that are failed attempts at past bucket lists which embody desires I’ve had for years, items that are iconic Nashville “must-do” events, and some that are just fun lines from sentimental country songs, that if I am completely honest, I really hope get crossed off.  Here are a few highlights:

One: Join the East Nasty Running Club: 

            I haven’t really mentioned it before, but on April 27^th I am running the St. Jude Music City Half Marathon. Throughout this semester, I have enjoyed training for this race with some of my favorite friends who also happen to be classmates. I am fascinated by the fact that I can (fairly) painlessly get my body to run 13.1 miles. Once the race is over, I want to continue what I’ve started, & the The East Nasty Running Club seems like the perfect way to do this. For my Fort Collins friends, East Nashville reminds me SO much of The Fort. Running through it is good for my heart in more than one way.

Two: Become a share holder with a local farm:

            I’ve had a long-standing vision of being a backyard chicken and vegetable farmer. Maybe it’s been instilled in my small town, Colorado soul, but I dream about walking into my back yard to collect eggs and fresh veggies each morning. The problem with now is I live in an apartment, in the city, & while I did entertain the thought of it here for a brief minute or so, doing this myself just isn’t going to fly. The good news is, I can reap the benefits of local farming, without doing it myself through community shared agriculture. Think what you might about the type of person who participates in a CSA, [& you’re probably correct] but this stuff is cool.

Here are the ones I’m checking out: Green Door Gourmet & Real Food Farms

Three: Watch the sunrise from Café Coco’s porch:

            It’s officially patio-sitting weather here in Nashville.  This place is open 24 hours & I have fallen in love with the people-watching, the vanilla Italian cream sodas, and strangely enough, the frequently failing internet that forces me to stop working for a bit to chat with my neighbors. I am excited for the conversations to be had on this porch.

Here’s to dreaming. 

-Laura