I Laughed

If there is one thing I've learned over the years about being on stage, it is this: never, under any circumstance, laugh if you mess up. This goes for anything. You drop your flag during a color guard routine in front of bleachers filled with people? Don't laugh. You forget a line in the middle of a monologue at Teen Talent? Don't even crack a smile. Your voice breaks in the middle of a show choir solo and all your family is there to watch you? Keep going. This rule is quite possibly one of the most important performance rules, and it has been drilled into me by every director I've performed under. There's only one problem...

Sometimes you can't help but laugh.

I was home the weekend of Valentine's Day, and our choir director asked if I would sing a couple of solos in the choir Sunday morning. I love to sing, and more importantly, I love to worship. Worshiping in front of a congregation is a lot different than worshiping alone, though. There is something about looking out over a congregation and seeing a group of people pursue God with their praise. It's one of those beautiful things that no description does justice. I think that is why I've always loved being on the praise team and singing in the choir. It's nice to be reminded that God is so great, everyone accepts the need to give Him glory. 

I'm a big advocate of transparency, as you may have noticed. With that said, that morning, I was nervous to stand in front of the congregation. In light of recent events, I had an irrational fear that people would be watching me and waiting for me to slip up. I know that sounds a little ambiguous, but it will have to suffice. In all honesty, it was silly of me to get caught up in feelings like those. Nine times out of ten, it's all in my head. And whether I'm being judged on stage or not, it is mandatory to keep my focus directly on God when I'm engaging in a worship service. I know that if I train my thoughts on Him, He can and will use me. If I don't, I allow room for mistakes. When I joined the choir that morning, I pushed all of the worry to the side. I was determined to worship like normal, and I did. 

When it came time to sing the second song, something happened. I allowed my focus to waver. I was in the middle of singing the first verse when I realized that I didn't exactly remember the words. Have you ever been in a service where someone flubs on the words and it makes the song take on an entirely different meaning? Yeah. That happened. Instead of saying, "We are a vapor. You are eternal," I said, "You are a vapor. We are eternal." As soon as the words were halfway out of my mouth, I couldn't help but laugh. The idea was so humorous to me, and the second part of the line ended up coming out in a giggle. Now, I realize it probably isn't good to laugh during a worship service, but I just could not help it. It was hilarious, guys. The laugh wasn't an obnoxious, slap-your-knee, kind of laugh. It was just a chuckle, but still.

I recovered quickly, and I looked up to see my Pastor's wife smiling at me, so I didn't feel too bad. The thing is, I was so worried about being genuine in my worship and trying not to mess up in front of people that I forgot to just worship. In that single lyrical mistake infused with my laughter, I acknowledged how ridiculous I was being. And as much as I contemplated what happened, I didn't feel like I had committed a cardinal sin by laughing when I messed up. I actually felt the opposite. I believe that my laughter, in a way, was worshipful to God. Sometimes it takes us screwing up to remember that God is our focus and our purpose, and that he deserves to be acknowledged above our worries, doubts, insecurity, fear, etc. Maybe that sounds nonsensical to you, but after it happened, I closed my eyes and was able to clear my head of all the debris that had been keeping me from worshiping with clear intent. 

I don't want to contradict the golden rule of performance by saying that it is, in fact, okay to laugh sometimes, and what you've been taught for so long is false. I don't have to. The truth is, worship and performance are two completely separate practices. When we acknowledge our God in reverence, whether it takes the form of a contemporary worship song, an honorable lifestyle, or a revelatory laugh, we have worshiped Him.

Insecure

Sometimes, I swear my mom is my best friend. It's the weirdest thing. When I was younger, I never thought that would happen. I never thought as I grew we'd grow together. I never thought I'd run to her first for advice regarding every aspect of my life, but it happened. The fussing, however, I anticipated. I anticipated butting heads over silly things. I anticipated becoming annoyed when explaining technology to her. Somehow, the two sides of our relationship collide in beauty. Over Christmas break, a kid in her Sunday School class told us he'd never seen a mother and daughter act the way we did, that we seemed like sisters. I'm not sure why, but those words adhered themselves to my memory and stimulated an instant smile. Maybe our relationship grew that way because we're the only women in a house that was home to four men over the years, or maybe it would've happened regardless. It's a precarious line to walk, the line between being a mother and being a friend. My mother walks it with perfection and ease, though, and I admire her daily for it.
I am blessed to have a great relationship with her, but lately I've been thinking a lot about my dad. I've been thinking about one story in particular.

I was in seventh grade, I think. I remember whose classroom I was in. I remember the guy who sat in front of me, his name and his face. I don't remember the conversation or what we were wearing, but I distinctly remember him turning around, looking me dead in the eyes and saying, "Girl, you got some big ole' eyes!" He didn't say it meanly. It was almost like he had just discovered my eyes and the suddenness of his realization stumbled out of his mouth. Up until that point, I never knew my eyes were any bigger than anyone else's, and it seemed like sort of a strange thing to point out. When he informed me of this trait, I immediately withdrew. I was in middle school and already self conscious. I had no idea what big eyes meant. Did they make me look weird? Did he think they were ugly?

In ninth grade, it happened again. Once again, I was in a classroom. It was Spanish, and I sat behind this guy from my church. He talked to me a lot, and when I'd get really excited telling a story, he was quick to remind me how big my eyes grew. I remembered what I was told in seventh grade and still wasn't sure what to think about their comments. The guys who told me about my eyes were never rude about it, and often they were laughing or smiling when they made their comments. Not knowing what else to say, I did what any person would do.

"Your eyes are just as big." Obviously my comebacks need work...

I remember riding to church that night in the backseat of my mom's minivan. She and my dad were in the front, and for the entirety of the ride I sat in the back and complained about the boy's remarks. "I don't know why he felt the need to tell me that. I mean, does he think I don't know? And what about his eyes? I mean, they're not the smallest things, either..." The venting went on and on. Eventually, my dad, a man of few words, cleared his throat, interrupting my persistent flow of whining. "Lori," he started in his low voice, "big eyes are not a bad thing." It shut me up. As soon as the words registered, I wasn't worried about my eyes anymore. I felt stupid for even worrying about it to begin with. My father had spoken, and the matter was settled.

This is what has been consuming my thoughts lately. I mentioned my mom at the beginning because, even though our relationship is great, I'm not sure the words would have been as effective coming from her. There is something about a father's words to his daughter; they hold a certain weight. Maybe it's because my dad doesn't speak often, or maybe it's simply because he's a dad. That single sentence from him that day cleared away an insecurity that had been brewing for years, and I am perplexed at his ability to do something so powerful with eight short words. As I thought about this for the past week, I couldn't help but think how much more my Heavenly Father can do.

Insecurity is something I believe everyone deals with at some point in time, even if it's something as silly as being worried about the size of your eyes. For me, it wasn't only my eyes. In fact, they were the least of my concerns. I was insecure about my weight, and my hair, and my teeth, and about all those things that really don't matter in the grand scheme of things. I was insecure because, sometimes, it seemed like no matter how hard I would try, I was never the best. I always felt second-rate.

Insecurity is something so common, I think we have a tendency to downplay it. At least I did. I rarely talked seriously about these issues to anyone, and when I did, I only felt like I was drawing attention to the things that made me ugly, the things that made me wrong. Instead, I looked for validation in people. I sought it from the seemingly perfect girls in my high school classes. I yearned for it from guys I was crushing on. When teachers or my parents or people from my church complimented me, I was on top of the world for a moment.

The thing is, validation from people is great, but prioritizing it above the validation that God is ready and able to give us is dangerous. And the things that we're often self-conscious about are things that have no effect on our purpose in God. This is a lesson I have very recently learned. My dad was able to take away one insecurity, but God can take them all away. He wants to take them all away, and I can't figure out why it took me so long to realize that.

I've always prayed for God to let me see others with His eyes. I guess sometimes we have to pray for Him to give us His eyes to see ourselves.

A Smile

Lee University looks dim. The brick buildings are all tinged grey, and the sun has settled indefinitely into a blanket of clouds. Yesterday morning I walked across campus, snowflakes lazily speckling my black coat, and I surveyed the dismal showcase of winter on my school. In my mind, I compared the beauty of campus in mid-August to the withdrawn and wintry spectacle that sat before my eyes. It's funny how the very attitude of campus seems to change with that of the students. It's the beginning of second semester, and the inviting smells of cinnamon and pumpkin have gone, leaving the bleak honesty of this season in their place. Also gone are the buzzing, idealistic freshmen of fall semester. It is second semester, it is winter, and we are all students waiting for the first shoot of vibrant color to spring forth from the ground and reestablish optimism in our frozen minds.

When I first noticed campus, I mentioned it to a friend. She looked at me and said, "It's ugly." I adamantly agreed. I could have done the writer thing and told her that I still found beauty in the tragic state of our school, but that would have been looking way too far into it. The truth is, Lee University isn't as pretty as it usually is. But even with the seemingly depressing vision of a campus once beautiful in all its colors and brightness, I cannot help walking outside and feeling a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. I know that the cruddy facade of dullness winter has currently draped over the entirety of the school is hiding a magnificent change. In a couple short months, campus will bloom suddenly and wholeheartedly, and the comparison of what it is now will make it seem that much more stunning. And that is why I'm smiling.

The winter isn't the only cause of my smile, though. I'm smiling because I've been smiled at, and the elation that comes with that act is not easily forgotten. I'm smiling because I've been invited to join the English honor society, Sigma Tau Delta, and I've been nerding out about it for a week. I'm smiling because I've realized that I have mini "families" here, whether I find them on my hall or in the groups I'm involved with. I'm smiling because I received two packages yesterday from two lovely ladies in my family, and their constant encouragement reminds me of my purpose. I'm smiling because it's February, and I'm steadily seeing new couples holding hands or flirting in the ped mall. I'm smiling because, even though things have seemed dreary lately, I'm genuinely happy. My heart is full, and the product of my full heart has consistently revealed itself in my countenance.

I don't know how things have been for you lately, but I can tell you that when things are ugly, sometimes it's best to smile in anticipation of the great things that will be. The ugly things will soon be beautiful.

A Thought

We become the things we let consume our time. In the words of Frances de Sales, "We cannot help conforming ourselves to what we love." I don't know the effect this thought will have on you, but it altogether thrilled and terrified me.

I remember hanging out with a specific person when I was in middle school. When I'd come home after sleeping over at this friends house, my brother would say, "Why are you talking like ______?" Of course, I'd deny the resemblance and tell him to leave me alone, but on the inside, I reveled in the comparison. I thought my friend was funny, so the fact that I was unknowingly beginning to act like her didn't really bother me. Later, I'd realize that being your own person is fantastic and all that jazz, but my middle school self couldn't have cared less.

I'm realizing now just how easy it is to become like the things and people you love without even realizing it. If that doesn't frighten you a little, I don't think you've fully grasped just what that entails. If you had, you'd realize that it has multiple consequences. It means that you have to be careful who/what you allow to consume your time, yes, but it also means that if you claim to allow something/someone to consume your time, it will be very evident. For example, if you say God consumes your thoughts, outsiders will be very aware if He actually does. That is the scary part. The exciting part? If God really is consuming your thoughts and you really do love Him with every piece of who you are, you will begin to inexplicably become like Him.

I'm both nervous and enthusiastic about this entire concept, but I'm also a little relieved. I'm relieved because (for lack of a better term) you can't BS God. When I tell Him in every prayer that I love Him more than anything, He knows my heart and all the mess that keeps that statement from being wholly true. But it's because He knows my heart that I can start to pray, "God, I love you, but I want to love you even more." That fragile honesty is what my relationship with God depends upon, and I am so relieved that I can be honest with Him when I don't have it all together. That is the first step to being consumed by Him. And when He consumes us, we start to look like Him more and more each day.

10 Things I Love About My Hall

When I was first told I was going to be in Nora Chambers Hall, I cringed. For those of you unaffiliated with Lee, Snora (Our nickname...Nora/Simmons. Get it?) isn't the greatest building. It's one of the older dorms, plus it's community style, so people don't typically apply for it. I automatically wasn't excited about my living situation, and when I hiked three flights of stairs and arrived at Nora Third North on the very first day here, I knew things were going to be interesting to say the least. When I walked onto our hall, I felt like I was in a scene of The House Bunny. I immediately noticed that none of the girls seemed similar. We were the most rag-tag bunch of girls ever. There were tall girls and really short girls, girls who say y'all and girls who don't, bubbly face-talkers and reserved introverts...seriously, our hall is so diverse. The thing is, after being here for several months, I can honestly say I am beyond thankful for being placed in this dorm. Being in a community style dorm forces you to get out of your room and communicate with people, and I've gotten to know the most amazing girls this year. The ladies of Nora Third North have been so wonderful to live with, so in a tribute to them, I present to you:

10 Things I Love About My Hall

1) We have the best RA

Brooke is the best RA there is. She's transparent with us, she puts up with us when we're rowdy (even during quiet hours), and she genuinely cares about each of us. She's exactly what an RA should be, and we're so grateful for her! This picture was taken at our dorm Christmas party, which explains why there are peppermints stuck to her cheeks.

2) Hall Dinner

Every week, the girls on my hall go to the caf for hall dinner. This was something instituted at the very beginning of the year, and this picture was taken the very first time we went as a group. I'm pretty sure we're the only hall that still does this, and I don't even care. It's nice that we can take a break out of our schedule once a week and go as a group. It's one of the things I look forward to most.

3) We make the most of community showers

The day it snowed here, I just really had the urge to sink into a bath tub. However, being in a community dorm, we don't have tubs. Even if we did, that would be gross. Community baths? No, thanks. So, in a surge of inspiration, I suggested we buy an inflatable pool and go swimming in the showers. The girls I live with jumped right on board without question, hence the picture. 

4) One word: Suzie

Ah, Suzie. Suzie is a stuffed decoration that one of the N3N girls brought back from home one weekend. The girls love to have fun with Suzie...obviously (She's wearing a mask in this picture). Sometimes I'll walk into my room after a long day and Suzie will be standing right in the doorway. Talk about creepy! We love Suzie, though, no matter how strange it is when she stares at us from the corner.

5) Another one-worder: Norman

We aren't allowed to have pets in the dorm, not even goldfish. Obviously this made us very sad because who doesn't like pets? My RA came up with the brilliant idea to get an electronic fish as a way to maintain the rules while still having the fun of a pet. So, we got Norman. Sometimes we call him Norm. He's pretty great.

6) Rules

I realize that this may be a little too much, but it makes me laugh every time I walk into the bathroom. It's a girls' dorm. What do you expect?

7) The Message Board

Sometimes the girls like to leave little messages on the white board on my door. This particular time, they were quoting the lovely Andy Samberg's video, "Threw It On The Ground."When I walked up to my door and saw this the other day, I immediately burst into laughter. They get me. And it's not just me...if you were to take a stroll down N3N, you would see little messages like this on every white board. These girls are stinking hilarious. 

8) Giant Faces 

I actually have no explanation for this one. I walked into my room and found this one day. Never a dull moment...

9) Sweet notes from sweet girls

Occasionally, I'll walk into my room and find that someone has slipped a note under my door. Sometimes I'll find notes tucked under the name-tag next to my door. Each note I've received from a girl here means so much to me, and it just highlights the beautiful personalities and attitudes that can be found on this hall.

10) We are a family

This poster is one of many in our lounge. The most important thing about our hall is that we consider one another family. It doesn't make much sense to us that a group of girls so incredibly different could connect so quickly and so deeply, but it happened. I love the girls of N3N so very much, and my first year at Lee couldn't be what it is without them. 

Crush The Idols

Wow, the title of this post sounds super Pentecostal. Being at Lee does that to you, I guess... It's been a few days since my last post, so I've had plenty of time to think about what I want to talk about. The problem is, I couldn't settle on a single idea. Writer's block at its finest, people. I've been racking my brain, and it didn't really hit me until Sunday what I would talk about.

I've mentioned Kingdom Players on the blog once before, but in case you don't know what it is...KP is a traveling drama group here at Lee. We're a team of 8 people, and we travel to different churches and events throughout the week doing skits and human videos. I absolutely love being a part of the group. Seriously, I don't know what I'd do without it. The only negative thing I can say about KP is this: when you do a drama to a specific song at most services, the song gets really old really fast, even if it's a great song. That is exactly what happened with Jimmy Needham's, "Clear the Stage." (I linked the song, just in case you want to hear it.)

When we first heard the song, we adored it. Beautifully written and melodic, the song has a way of cutting to the heart of the matter; sometimes you just need to clear your stage so God can be center in your life. However, when you hear the song countless times in a week, the message has a way of becoming dim. At least that's how it is for me. I had gotten in a rut with the song where I didn't really hear the message anymore. That was until this past Sunday, when I heard the song with fresh ears. We were performing our drama at a church nearby, and the song had reached the bridge when it really clicked for me. There is a line that says, "Anything I can't stop thinking of is an idol." When I heard those words, it felt like I had been hit in the face with a brick. How many times have I listened to that line and never really took it to heart? The truth of that sentence stuck with me well after the service was over. 

Our heart is where our thoughts are, and God's thoughts are constantly on us. The more I think about that, the more I realize how much we cheat God. I'm guilty of this. I'll ask God all the time to keep me in His perfect will, but seldom do I dwell on Him and His purpose for me. Instead, I allow my thoughts to jump to problems at school, people in my life, my future--things that are out of my control. And whether I like it or not, I let those things become idols in the face of a God who loves me more than anything. 

There is another line in the song that simply says, "You can sing all you want to and still get it wrong. Worship is more than a song." I want my worship to be more than a song, but if I can't keep God at the center of my thoughts, my worship will always be just a song. I'm not saying that we must think about God 24/7 and be super spiritual, never joke, laugh, have crushes, or worry about school work. I'm just saying that sometimes it's a good idea to clear our stages and let God know that He's the one we can't stop thinking of. If we're the center of His thoughts, why can't He be the center of ours?