Where your treasure is...

A couple of nights ago, my mother looked over at me and said, "So have you just given up on your blog?"

What can I say? Sometimes the inspiration to write just doesn't strike, and I get lazy about blogging. I'll admit, this summer has made me lazy and lethargic in general, and I don't like the feeling. I've realized that so much of the joy is drained out of leisure when that's the majority of how you spend your waking hours. Simple pleasures like reading a book, watching a good movie, or soaking up some sun are so much sweeter when contrasted with a life that's somehow constructive and/or productive. Relaxation is best after a hard day of work or study, not after days and days of more relaxation.

Who knows, maybe I just need to learn how to enjoy a break when I get one. One productive thing I have been doing this summer is beginning the long, dirty, arduous process of cleaning out my room. Not just a tidying-up sort of cleaning, but an intense "I am moving out permanently and so should all my earthly possessions" sort of cleaning. It's sort of a sad process (I am a total packrat and I hate getting rid of things), but also remarkably liberating. It makes me take some long term perspective on my life and consider what I really want to keep with me through the coming years.

What really amazes me is how much stuff I've managed to accumulate in my short time on this earth. Whenever I get back from a trip, especially a trip overseas, I am always reminded of how little I really need. I have happily lived out of suitcases for months at a time...then upon returning home, it suddenly seemed as though I couldn't live without all those silly, extraneous things I'd lived without for so long.

My particular weakness is for sentimental items. Today I dug through piles of old high school photos, t-shirts from my musical theater days, costumes, some ugly dance trophies, a few sketchbooks full of terrible artistic attempts in middle school, report cards, a box of encouraging notes from my fellow counselors at camp, and countless ticket stubs saved from various metro rides in European cities. Every tiny item, no matter how silly and trivial it might seem, felt like a tough call. Throw it away, or add it to the ever increasing mountains of stuff that come with me every time I move? Though I have to admit keeping more than I should, I was reminded over and over again how temporary all these things are. The memories themselves are woven into my life, and throwing away some physical reminders won't change that reality.

Someday, when I (God willing) have a family of my own, I don't want my home to be crowded with boxes of souvenirs and mementos of just MY life, but of the life I share with my husband and children. I want to be free to simply cherish experiences in my heart wherever life takes me, free from a burden of excessive nostalgic trinkets and greedy accumulation. I can only hope to look back at the end and be able to say I was more invested in people than in things, more eager to give than to buy, more trusting in God than in any amassed wealth.

On the Road Again

So it's Sunday night, and I'm about to set out for Colorado. Two friends and I plan to drive through the night and all day tomorrow through Tenessee, Arkansas, and Oklahoma, stop to sleep, then drive through Texas and spend a day in New Mexico, where we will camp out in the desert before finally making it up to San Juan Mountains in Silverton, Colorado. Silverton is a small old mining town, miles away from anything, surrounded by the most enormous, breathtaking mountains I've ever seen. I am so excited to be back there for a couple of weeks. No technology, no distractions, just fresh air, pure spring water, dazzling views, and massive mountains waiting to be climbed.

Please pray that we will have safe travels, alert driving on very little sleep, good fellowship together, and no hiking accidents (my last Colorado trip involved getting slammed in the forehead with a rock, so I'm hoping not to repeat that)....

Now, time to hit the open road and have some adventures!!



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life in the backwoods

I moved home to the mountains two days ago. Since returning home, I have:

*tried (and failed) to ride a motorbike
*pulled a few weeds in the garden
*sat around a bonfire cooking hotdogs and smores with my family
*biked the Virginia Creeper Trail (17 miles of pure awesomeness)
*shot a handgun
*ate the very best homemade barbeque in the world

Gotta love country livin'!

"take this sinking boat and point it home"

I went to a Swell Season concert this weekend, and it was hands down the best concert I've ever been to. I've never seen an entire audience so emotionally moved and throughly enraptured as they were on that lovely summer night. If you've never heard the lush, gorgeous, intense melodies of Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, you should go treat yourself to that right now. Or if you have not seen the movie Once, go do that too.

In addition to enjoying their incredible vocal harmonies and musical talents, the concert gave me such a beautiful rush of memories. I love how music has the power to instantly take you back to a moment in time. I remembered how I was first introduced to the Swell Season during my summer in Prague. The girls I lived with would play "Falling Slowly" almost every morning as we got ready to begin a new day. Hearing it played live filled my heart with joy and longing.

The concert reminded me why art is important: sometimes we need moments of intense beauty or poignant sadness to break us out of our everyday, commonplace routines and remind us that there is so much more. More richness in our memories, more depth behind our day-to-day lives, more hope and awe yet to come.

the post-grad doldrums

Being a college graduate feels strangely unproductive and sort of boring. I know that's a temporary feeling that I'll probably look back on wistfully someday, but for now it's unnerving. I keep picking up my laptop and checking my email over and over again.....and nothing. I keep thinking I must be forgetting some undone homework, but then I remember it's all done....permanently. Today I started pouring over grad school admissions handbooks at Barnes and Noble because I just can't stand having nothing to do or plan.

Oh goodness. What is wrong with me?

Addiction

I have been sitting in a coffee shop this afternoon, doing my last big study/cram session before the final exam of my undergrad life. I was feeling stressed, about studying and about life, and then I overheard the woman sitting beside me. She was a lovely woman in her mid-thirties, who was making phone calls to various women's shelters to see if they would take her in for a few weeks. Her husband had left her, and she had just completed a rehab program for alcoholism. As she explained her situation to various shelters, she sounded so sweet and so genuine. Some time later, a friend came into join her, and they both began to talk about their experiences with alcoholism and recovery. All of my petty anxieties seemed so small in the light of these women's lives, and I wished so much that I could just jump into their conversation and ask to hear their stories.

My essay exam tomorrow is for my Literary Study of the Bible class, and it's on the subject of surprise endings. Over the past few days, I've been thinking about surprises in the Bible, and my mind has been overwhelmed with the fact that the entire book seems like a continual series of surprises, twists, and subverted expectations. As I was overhearing the conversation between these two women, I was writing this paragraph as a rough draft of what I want to write tomorrow on my exam:

"The great surprise of the Bible is that God always uses the unusable, changes the unchangeable, and loves the unloveable. He chooses a murderous coward to lead his people out of Egypt, a young shepherd boy to become the king of Israel, an unknown teenage peasant as the mother of Christ, a group of dirty shepherds as the bearers of angelic tidings, a woman formerly possessed by demons as the first witness of the resurrected Jesus, and a vicious persecutor of the early church as a zealous apostle of the faith. In both the Old and New Testament, God's actions continually defy human expectations of behaviorally based favor and love."

The women beside me began to talk about their faith as I wrote this and I was overwhelmed with this real life picture of what I was writing. I bet their experience of Jesus' love and mercy is so much richer and deeper than I can even imagine. I think there is something beautiful in the utter darkness and horror of an addiction: it makes that false infinite, that sweet poison, that substitute god so clear and tangible in its destructiveness. An addict knows their utter vulnerability, brokenness, and weakness in a way that very few of us are willing or able to admit.

I think we're all addicted to something. One of my (many) addictions happens to be approval, which is particularly destructive when it leads me to believe that I can earn the love and approval of God. The realization that I cannot lose God's love is a daily one, always pushing against the voice inside that tells me I am a failure, or against the pride that tells me I deserve every possible happiness the world has to offer. Freedom lies somewhere in the balance, in knowing that I am desperately broken and yet freely, lavishly loved and delighted in. I think that balance is resting in grace......grace upon grace upon grace that I cannot understand or deserve or lose.

A few good reasons to babysit

1. Playing in the park on a sunny day is the best fun you can have. Especially wading in a creek with a 3 year old who loves to throw rocks.

2. Dress up! Who couldn't love dress up? The boys put on their fireman and Power Ranger costumes (cutest things I've ever seen) and told me they had to protect me (I was the Princess, naturally) with their fire-fighting and karate skills. They also made me a gun out of Legos and told me that would protect me if they couldn't be around.

3. Making funny faces in the mirror to get distracted little boys to brush their teeth.

4. Reading bedtime stories and saying bedtime prayers.

5. Building Legos, making LiteBrite patterns, shooting laser guns, lightsaber battles, playing soccer....need I say more?

6. When I asked the 5 year old what he would be when he grew up, he replied, "A dolphin trainer." After a thoughtful pause, his little brother cheerfully answered, "I will be a crab someday." I wanted to explain that changing species probably wouldn't happen, but I decided to let him dream.