celebrate good times (come on!!)

march has been a big month

a strange and beautiful month
if i could describe it in one word, i would choose
full
{full: filled to satisfaction}
(thankfully, nobody asked me to describe it in one word and, since it's my blog, i will use as many words as necessary...)





it has been about feasting and discerning and pra(y)sing
in the midst of it:
i've been to concerts and conferences and birthday parties
i've had overwhelming nights and looming decisions
changes of heart and changes back again
moments of utter creativity
laughter and tears
anticipation
joy


march is the halfway point
between october and august
the start and the finish of life as i know it
how dramatic does that sound?
but seriously. that is crazy
five months ago i entered a post-college world outside of my predictions
and bigger, even, than my hopes
i've watched community built up and walls broken down and anxieties pushed aside
for the sake of something bigger


and now, there is something bigger still
the culmination of years of planning and studying and working and dreaming
came in six little words:
"congratulations, you have been accepted into..."

in march, doors opened
...more than doors...
[entire cities, entire worlds]
and in rushed a billion emotions:

excitement, gratitude, pride (quickly followed by humility), humility (quickly followed by pride), fear, more excitement, disbelief, confusion, surprise, sadness, pieces of early-onset grief, euphoria, anxiety, hope, awe, curiosity, happiness...

and somehow, at the end of it, after all of it
there is peace and satisfaction
and it's time to celebrate



{via}

the madness of march

i've never been great at sports.
i played pickup soccer games on summer days at the local park
and went to school basketball games with paint on my face
i played tennis and learned to ski black-diamonds and had a brief stint with surfing
and of course, i was on the all-star softball team in 1993.
(and i looked good in my oversized purple jersey)
but mostly, with these few exceptions aside, i'm slightly uncoordinated and awkward so i took piano lessons and art classes instead.

the problem is that i'm competitive and empathetic.
a friend took me to a basketball game a few weeks ago
i half-jokingly promised: i will get emotionally invested in this team.
turns out: i keep my promises.


{via}

now, it's march madness and i've dedicated many hours of precious time
to bracket research and (friendly) trash talk and streaming live games on my work computer (shh, don't tell...)
i've found myself cheering loudly with friends and running around my house in excitement
you can call me a fair-weather fan and tell me that i've jumped on the bandwagon
and you wouldn't be completely wrong

but here's the thing(s):
it takes me approximately .42 seconds to get emotionally attached
(yes, even to basketball)
it doesn't help that 87% of my friends bleed red and black
it doesn't help that i want to see that 87% excited and celebrating
yes, i celebrate because i enjoy competition and a good game
i love bragging that i am part of the 4.5% who predicted a morehead state win
more than that, i love to celebrate alongside of the people that have come to mean so much to me, in the place that has come to mean so much to me
i love these joyful celebrations with friends
i love to see them celebrate their passions
because it brings me joy, too


march is about celebrating
{even amidst the madness}

hold it lightly

mantra [man-tras]

-noun

1. a holy word in meditation

2. an often repeated expression or idea

synonyms: song, hymn, tune

-------------------------------------------------------------------
i currently have a mantra--a simple phrase that has come to hold much meaning;
something that the Lord continues to whisper into my busy ears and anxious heart during the chaos of the last few weeks, and surely, the weeks to come:


{hold it lightly in your hands}

let it roll off like dust at the slightest breeze
or
let it rest peacefully where it lands

let it come or let it go

it=many, many things, big and little
because apparently, i'm at the age where the necessity of making important life decisions comes far too frequently
and the feeling of the want to grasp onto anything with potential is ever-present [hello, developer...]

somewhere in the back of my mind, always, is Jamaica, and now, Africa...acceptance letters to graduate programs, road trips to Boston, relationships and community and the home that He has built so intentionally around me

potential moves and forward motion

even still, He whispers: [hold it lightly in your hands]

be malleable according to His heart

He, the God of hold and release:
takes desires and gives opportunity
takes opportunity and gives courage
takes courage and gives paths-worth-walking

He gives dreams and visions and hopes and plans
that He asks me to hold lightly,
to trust that He will fulfill.

why my shirt said "love"

"If you love those who love you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners do that...but love your enemies, and do good, expecting nothing in return..."

(Luke 6:32ish)

i wore my "love" shirt yesterday, specifically and intentionally. because i woke up frustrated. i woke up thinking about this verse, thinking about my heart, and remembering the ease of love in jamaica. it is easy to love in jamaica, and i fall quickly into it. it is not so easy here. here is where real life happens. here is where the longevity of my love is tested--where i see if i am truly patient and kind; if i truly turn my heart against envy and pride and any sort of selfishness [hint: i'm not and i don't, but i'm working on it]. and this is the place where i see and overthink and analyze and attempt to discern the "love" around me.

i wore my "love" shirt yesterday, specifically and intentionally. the one with the flowers and the dove and the word "love" spelled out, front and center, to hold myself to some sort of higher standard. because i have decided to be about love. i have decided to be about Jesus, who embodies all that love is: patience, kindness, goodness, humility, selflessness, gentleness, forgiveness, grace, meekness, reconciliation, and on and on and on. i have a different standard to live by. and so does anybody who claims to be about Jesus. we are not called to get there apart from Him, but we are called to a new and different standard:

one that asks that i open myself to a world besides my own. it asks that i engage in conversation, that i listen, that i respond selflessly, patiently, with humility and kindness
(and for more than ten days in jamaica)
(and for more than two weeks in africa)
(and for more than the twenty minute difficult phone conversation each month)
(or the visit to difficult family members).

it's a life lived toward a new standard, worked out in day-to-day life, when friends annoy you, or conversations wound you, when you want to scream and cry and punch somebody in the face, but you choose to love instead.

i wore my "love" shirt, specifically and intentionally, because i'm not quite there and i just needed a little reminder.

{in love, there is freedom}

"We must move away from asking God to take care of the things that are breaking our hearts to praying about the things that are breaking God's heart."

- Margaret Gibb

why i write (how i pray)

i don't quite remember when i started to write for my soul. probably somewhere around the time that i started to seriously consider Jesus. sometime after my "dear diary" notes about my ultra-crush on justin jones. after my winnie the pooh phase. sometime before now. i have evidence of this stacked high in an old oak trunk in my bedroom in northern california. pages and pages are added with every visit home. by now, there must be thousands.

i could never quite figure out why i love to write. my introverted side uses it as a tool to process before my extroverted side explodes the words from my mouth. my input side likes to collect phrases and stories. my crazy-brain loves it for the focus and attention it requires. my heart loves it for the clarity it provides. more than those things, though, i write (and love to write) because it is the purest and most creative worship that i can bring.

i've never been great at traditional prayer, or at least my perception of it. i can't sit still long enough, i twiddle my fingers too much and, with nothing grounding me to my thoughts, they come and go within seconds. i thought that was the only way to pray.

enter: writing. writing is my creative and prayerful worship. from scribbled notes on unlined paper and doodled truths, to letters written on a vintage typewriter--i meet with YHWH on those pages. give me the chance to put pen to paper and suddenly, stillness of heart and mind, openness to the Lord. the pages of my journal are full of Divine-human interaction (isn't that at the heart of prayer??). you can read my heart's transformation from cover-to-cover. you can see praise and hope and longing and the ongoing process of change.

i write my dreams--the dreams placed intentionally in my heart by the Lord. i write my hopes. i write my struggles. i document the way that the Lord speaks into these things, changes them and uses them by showing me Himself. david danced before the Lord; that was prayer. he wrote psalms that we pray, even to this day. i write because of the Lord, with the Lord, for the Lord; that is my prayer. certainly not the only form, but the one i love most.

how do you love to pray?

"You are called into prayer either that you might collaborate with Him in bringing His will to pass, or that you might be able to get a larger vision of what He is like."

--John White//Daring to Draw Near

a legacy of grace

it's not very often that i get to sit down and study my bible. reading is one thing. i'm talking three different versions of text, books of commentary, my beloved "dictionary of biblical imagery" (thank you, intervarsity press...) study. it helps that it's gloomy and rainy outside and that i'm sharing the table with my studying roomie. i love these moments, this space, this togetherness. it is far too infrequent and more beautiful than i remember.

i have a lot of reasons to love Jesus and a lot of reasons to be convinced of His goodness.

here's one:

i love to read stories of the example of beautiful, strong, holy women who have come before me: to see the tenderness in their worship, the risks that they take in their adoration of Jesus, their bravery and strength and the grace that covers their lives. i'm thinking of the woman with the alabaster jar (luke 7), the widow offering her livelihood in the temple (mark 12), Ruth, Naomi, Rachel, Sarah; even Rahab, a prostitute and Mary Magdalene, the woman from whom seven demons came out. (common misconception: mary magdalene was not a prostitute and the Church finally apologized for turning her into one...) then, i think, even more immediate: my grandma, my mama, my mentors, my (almost) sisters, my best friends...

we were once broken. we were once prostitutes and adulterers, divorcees and abusers. addicts. skeptics. possessed. selfish perfectionists. our hearts were cold. we were poor and afraid. that was the story we entered into--our legacy and our destiny.

and then, Jesus said, over and over again, "your faith has set you free. go in peace." in front of us is a new legacy. pieces of our hearts (our very feminine and sometimes feminist hearts) come to life as we are no longer prostitutes or adulterers, divorcees or abusers. we're no longer addicts; our hearts are whole and free and rich in love. that is the power of Jesus' grace in abundance and the legacy of strength and grace that we are living in: beautiful, strong and holy women teaching us to live.

p.s. i think this goes without saying, but just in case: men live in Jesus' abundant grace, too. but i'm a woman, and that's the way it goes! :)

that's a lot of love!

(if only i weren't allergic...)