Transparency

This week has been a good week. So far I've met new people, spent some amazing time with the girls on my hall, confronted issues that were weighing on my shoulders, and gone swimming in an inflatable pool in our community showers. I mean, it's been a really great week by any normal person's standards. But sometimes, even with great weeks, we're still not okay.

This morning the chapel band played "Fix You," by Coldplay. It isn't a Christian song, but I encourage you to listen to it. It's amazing, and it's always been one of my favorites. I was sitting on the front row (which never happens because chapel is always packed) when they started playing this beautiful song, and the next thing I knew, tears were falling onto my neatly clasped hands. I sat very still, hoping no one would notice the incredibly emotional girl on the front row. It wasn't heavy duty crying, the kind of crying that is provoked and that contorts your face and makes your back shake. It was the type of crying that sneaks up on you. It was the type of crying that invites itself. I didn't know why I was crying, and I definitely didn't want to be. I felt like Charlie from The Perks of Being a Wallflower when he sits in his room, tears streaming down his face, repeating the words, "Stop crying. Stop crying." I told myself that it was stupid. I told myself that people would ask questions. The tears persisted. Knowing that I couldn't stop them, I closed my eyes and let the words fall over me. When the song finished, the speaker came back on stage and said a few more words before leading us into communion. 

I stood for the remainder of the worship service telling myself to suck it up before someone noticed. The speaker was giving his closing remarks, and I had just stopped crying when I felt a hand on my back. Crap, was my immediate thought. Way to be obvious. The Resident Director of our dorm, Cherie, was patting my back, and of course the tears started falling again. Through all of that, I still didn't know what had happened. I'm a happy person. I've had the best week. Why am I crying?

I've thought about this all day, and as I sit here and listen to the song again, I think I know why. I want to be transparent with you guys because transparency may very well be one of the most important attributes you'll ever know. I am broken. I'm trying to figure out who I am. I'm trying to depend on God more than I ever have before, and it's really hard. And as I listen to this song and hear the words "fix you" the only thing I can think is God, please do. The thing is, God can only fix us when we are broken. I think I've had a hard time with that because I know I'm in His will right now, and I don't always understand why I still feel pain. The fact is, just because you're in God's will doesn't mean it won't be painful.

Psalm 139:15-18 says, "My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand--when I awake, I am still with you."

When I need a reminder of who I am, this verse is where I find my solace. God knows me. He knows what I've been, who I'm becoming, and what I will do. And when I feel completely and utterly turned upside down, I know that I can find myself in Him. He is fixing me. And I don't know what will become of these tears that have been shed or the pieces of me that have been lost and seem irreplaceable, but I know that God had my steps ordained before I took one. And, like the verse says, His thoughts are precious. I'm not being transparent so that you'll feel sorry for me or to evoke emotion. I'm being transparent because I can't wait to look back at this and praise God for His uncanny ability to fix us when we are broken.

Ellipsis

I love words, which I guess is a good thing since I'm an English-Writing major. The thing about words is they inspire. Whether spoken or written, words create chaos and they solve it. They can spark change or they can stifle it. Words can be blunt and plain or throbbing with hidden meaning, and that amazes me. Call it nerdy or over the top, but it's factual. Words matter. I guess that's why I catch phrases said by professors, mentors, preachers, or people in general and hold tightly to them as if at any moment they could leap from my memory and take the possibility of inspiration with them. It's that small fear that caused me to catch something my playwriting professor said today, something that I'll never let go of.

She was teaching us about playwriting, which I'm sure you could have guessed by now. More specifically, she was talking about the importance of the ending. Before she began her talk about endings, she made us do an exercise where we wrote six lines of dialogue. As you can imagine, it is really hard to portray meaning and purpose in a two-person dialogue where each character only speaks three times! When we were all finished with our six-lines, a girl was chosen to read hers aloud. Her dialogue was going well, but she expressed to us that she had no idea how to end it, so in a completely random and last minute decision, she had one of her characters shoot the other. Of course we laughed because it was so unfitting, but it caused our professor to begin to talk about endings. She told us that, contrary to popular belief, the ending doesn't have to be final. Then she said, "Sometimes the end is more like an ellipsis."

I had one of those moments that I talked about earlier. I sat still for a moment before grasping at my pen and frantically putting what was spoken on the white page in front of me. Guys, this happens pretty regularly, and I have to admit it's probably one of the main reasons I pay attention in class. I stared at the words strewn across my paper in blue ink, and thoughts were flying through my mind.

The ending doesn't have to be final, and often it isn't. It's a dot-dot-dot, those three little periods at the end of a sentence that let people know there is more. And things don't just work like this in writing. It works like this in real life. When one chapter of your life ends or you have to say goodbye to people you never wanted to say goodbye to, it isn't always final. Graduating high school seemed so surreal and final when I was sitting on the field in my cap and gown. However, now that I'm in my first year of college, I know that graduation wasn't a period; it was an ellipsis.

I Googled the word just to see what sorts of definitions would come up. One definition stated that ellipses often indicate an "unfinished thought." When I read that, I had to smile to myself. Lately, I've been in a time of transition in multiple aspects of my life. It seems like the entirety of who I am is making a shift, and sometimes that can feel a lot like ending. The finality of that feeling has caused me to feel so heavy and broken, but after hearing those words from my professor today, I had a slight deviation of thought. You probably know just as well as I do that the slightest of shifts can make a huge difference. My life right now is like an unfinished thought. While I am transitioning through stages, I am not ending. My life, your life...it's an ellipsis--a beautiful continuation of the life God has destined us to live.

A Funny Story...

I don't want to be that annoying girl who always posts about her adventures at the gym, and how much fun working out is, and blah blah blah. First, because I don't actually think it's fun, even though I do think it's needed. Second, no one likes to be reminded that they aren't working out, and I don't want my posts to do that. With that said, some of the best things happen at the gym. And when I say best, I really mean the most awkward.

It was around 9:30 the other night when I realized that we hadn't gone to the gym yet. It closes at 11. The two girls I was going with, Shawna and Chloe, and I rushed to get ready while we were still motivated to go. When we came out of our rooms dressed for the gym, I realized automatically that Chloe and I were wearing the same tank top. It's this blue, light-weight thing from Wal-Mart, and it is fantastic, guys. We had talked about having the same shirt before, so it wasn't as much of a shock as it was an excited, "OMG, twins," situation. Sometimes girls do that. It's inexplicable, but it happens. When Shawna came out, we immediately told her to go put on her matching tank top because, duh, who wouldn't? We put on our jackets since it was freezing outside, and we headed to the gym.

For some reason the gym was packed when we got there. The aerobics room we usually work out in was full, so we stood outside the door for about ten minutes trying to decide if we wanted to attempt working out in the middle of a packed room. We decided no. After about ten more minutes of walking around the gym, we finally found a space we could use. It's hard to explain if you aren't from Lee, but I'll try. There is this space upstairs that overlooks the basketball courts and the racquetball courts. It's super small and very open. This became a problem. I mean, do you face the basketball courts or racquetball courts to do squats? Better yet, do you want the entire basketball team to see you bend over or the innocent racquetball players. Very awkward. We decided to scrunch together and stay low to the ground to avoid any awkward situation that could ensue. 

After we claimed our spot, I was nominated to get mats out of the aerobics room, so I walked back downstairs and into the room full of people. I should tell you now that the mats are bulky and twice my size. I should tell you this because it makes it easier for me to tell you that I tripped on them trying to leave. After embarrassing myself by tripping on the stupid, oversize mats, we were finally ready to do some actual work. We busted out our mats, took off our jackets, and that's when we remembered: all three of us had on the same tank top. 

I couldn't stop laughing.

Here we were, exercising in the most random location at the gym, I'd already tripped over our stupid mats, and now we were all sporting the same tank-top. We looked like some sort of ridiculous work out team, and that isn't even the worst part. After we stopped laughing at our misfortune and actually started to work out, we heard voices at the foot of the stairs. Two guys that were in the aerobics room (the room I tripped in) were coming into our work out space. For obvious reasons, this really freaked us out. We were mortified that these guys were going to see us in all our matching shirt glory. After silently deliberating whether or not we should put our jackets back on, we decided to just stay low-key. So, when the guys finally peaked at the top of the stairs, we were in these awkward stretching positions that didn't seem low-key at all. 

It turns out, the guys were doing wheelbarrows up the stairs and down the stairs. One guy would hold the feet on the way up, they would stop and obnoxiously stretch at the top, then the other would hold his friend's feet on the way down. Since we assumed they'd go away once they saw we were at the top, we weren't exactly prepared for what we'd do if they stayed, which they did. Instead of just ignoring them, we'd wait for them to hit the bottom of the stairs and flail into another weird stretch. I'm pretty sure the guys were wondering why we were repeating the same three stretches for the entirety of our stay, but we didn't let it bother us then. Mostly because they were trying to impress us on their way out by talking about doing some finger push-ups later.

The truth is, even though we were being ridiculous, we had the most fun. We did more laughing than we did working out, and I have to say, it was much needed. Here is a picture of us post-work out.

Aaaaand another (excuse my derp face)

Bottom line: if you and your friends want to have a good time, wear a matching tank top to the gym. You'll have the time of your life, let me tell you.

A Collection of Ideas

I've been meaning to blog all weekend, but sometimes our best intentions are just that: intentions. Kingdom Players, the traveling drama group I'm a part of at Lee, has been in the Carolinas this weekend, so it's been crazy the past few days.

There are several ideas that have been evolving in my mind, and I don't think it's fair to just pick one thing to talk about, so I decided to sum them up and make one collective post. I want to tell you guys the things I've learned this week, the things that have settled within my spirit, and things that I think you might just need to hear.

1) Adults aren't always mature.

Okay, this is obvious. However, it's something I have been realizing more and more lately. And no, I don't just mean in the occasional Facebook drama, although it has been there heavily in the past couple of days... I mean that sometimes adults don't know how to handle life. Sometimes the adults you look up to will let you down, hurt your feelings, or simply mess up. This is no revelation, I know. But I have to remind myself a lot. It definitely keeps me sane.

2) Things that seem good for you aren't always good for you.

Second helpings, for example. You think they are going to make you happy, but they leave you with so much regret. I don't think I need to expound, because this is an analogy that can be applied to more situations in our lives than we'd like to admit.

3) Validation comes from above.

This is one of the more prominent things that's been searing itself into my brain. We have small group sessions every Thursday night with the girls on my hall. The cool thing is, small group is a campus-wide ordeal; while our hall is worshiping and talking about things, so is every other hall on campus. The unity of that amazes me. During our last small group session, a lot of the girls talked about finding validation in places other than God, and that really resonated with me. How many times have a found myself in a situation where I've allowed one insult to completely break me down? How many times have I allowed a compliment from some guy send me into a word-driven high? There's something wrong in that, and I'm glad that I'm finding that out now. My validation, your validation...it has to come from God. And it's already there; we just have to start looking.

Lastly...
4) "There will be storms, but Jesus asked you to get in the boat."

In chapel Thursday, the guy preaching said this, and I swear it's been all I can think about since then. He preached from Mark 4:35-41, the scene where Jesus and his disciples are in the middle of the storm and Jesus calms the waves. He talked about how the goal of Jesus and the disciples was to reach the land of the Gerasenes, where they would ultimately cast Legion out of a man and into pigs. The disciples were so frightened during the storm, but it made what was to come seem less frightening. Then, the preacher said the line that I'll never forget, "There will be storms, but Jesus asked you to get in the boat." Jesus brought the disciples into the storm, and he was right there in the midst of their fear. He brought them through that storm to prepare them for what was waiting for them on the other side of the lake, and he does that with us sometimes. Still, how wonderful is it to know that Jesus asked us to get into the boat?

The Gym

I've been going to the gym lately with the girls on my hall. The fantastic thing about going with girls on your hall is that they see you at your worst, so they don't judge you when you look like a hyperventilating, sweaty mess. It's nice. I can count on one hand the amount of times I had been to the gym before now, and I have to tell you...machines and I do not mix. It isn't that I don't like using the machines in the gym to work out; it's that I can't. I am completely illiterate when it comes to reading those things. There are too many buttons and numbers and symbols, and I just don't have the patience to deal with that. However, these past few days going with other people has helped me to be so much more confident about taking on the machines...except the treadmill. Treadmills scare me. Every time I see one I think about the scene in Monsters University where Mike and Sully are running on treadmills and Mike gets sucked into the belt. Maybe it's irrational, but no thank you. Instead, I use the elliptical. Let's face it: ellipticals are a lot more user-friendly, and I feel like they work out a lot more than treadmills.

Last night, the only free elliptical just happened to be to the right of this guy who was probably twice my size. I don't say that to make myself seem small or to pick on the guy; I say it because it's crucial to what I want to talk about. I didn't think much about him being there. I just hopped onto the machine and starting working out. I don't own a pair of headphones, so I couldn't listen to music while I was running. About 15 minutes in, I felt like I'd been staring at the front of my machine for two hours. I was so ridiculously bored. Now, I try not to be a nosy person. I really, really do. But when I'm in the same place for over 5 minutes, even if I am moving, my eyes start to wander, and they just happened to glance over at the machine to my left.

The very large guy beside me had been working on his elliptical for an hour.

Maybe you go to the gym quite often and are used to using the machines for hours. From what I hear, that isn't out of the norm. However, when I looked at this guy and saw how much work he was putting into it, and noticed that he had been going for a straight hour, it really made me think. Maybe his new year resolution was to lose weight and he'd only been in the gym for a couple of weeks. Maybe that was the only time he was planning on working out this week. Or maybe he found himself in the gym every night running for an hour. I don't know what his story was, but I was impressed. I was impressed that he wasn't half-way doing it. I was impressed that he'd set his mind to improve, and he was working for it. He may decide to give up in a few days, but that one instant of looking at his machine was inspiring.

If you wait for improvement to fall in your lap, you'll never get to the place you need to be.

"The Fault in Our Stars"

I recently read a book by John Green entitled, "The Fault in Our Stars." If you've heard of it, which I'm sure you have, you'll more than likely know that it is a book about a teenage girl, Hazel, with terminal cancer. I recommend it. But, before I talk about the book, there is something you should know about me. I like sad stories. It doesn't just stop there, though. I like sad songs and movies, as well. It's something I've tried to figure out for a while, and I haven't exactly pinpointed the reason. I figure it has something to do with the cathartic nature of semi-depressing tales, or maybe it's simply because there is something beautiful to be said about a story woven throughout the tragedies that we face in our lives each day.

Something like that.

Whatever the issue, when I read the summary inside of the book jacket, I immediately thought this was a book I'd want to read, but not because it seemed sad. I wanted to read it because it didn't seem like a cliche' tragedy, and it wasn't. It was written with wit and with thought. The main character, Hazel, didn't look at life with the regard that she should, "live like it's your last day." She just lived like she normally would. I found that interesting...she never tried to be overtly optimistic or try to find the plus side of cancer (though she does talk often and very humorously about "Cancer Perks"). Instead, she faced the fact that she was dying, and that she was too young, but that it was okay. 

There is this really awesome quote that was repeated several times throughout the book, and I believe it's something that should be pondered. The quote goes like this:

I mean, it makes total sense, right? This seems like a no-brainer, but often I think people, especially Christians, try to ignore pain. I can clearly remember a time when I did this. I don't remember what the specific cause of my pain was, but when I was retelling the story, I shrugged it off. I was admired for "letting it roll off my shoulders." At the time, I thought that was great, and I still do. Sometimes people over-analyze little things and harbor a pain that was never intended. I don't believe that's right. In this case, it was some silly remark, and it was better that I let it go.

The problem is, so often Christians get caught in that roll-off-your-shoulders mentality. We try to put on a chipper face and ignore the truly hurtful things. But, alas, pain demands to be felt. We forget that it is completely okay to hurt. The important thing is not controlling that hurt, but choosing what to do with it. Don't allow your hurt to transform into anger or depression, but let it be felt. It will come out sooner or later, and the longer you let it reside in you, the easier it will be to let it consume you. 

Girls' voices crack, too.

I'm awkward. Ask anyone, and they'll tell you. The more polite people will call it "quirky." Thank God for those people... The truth is, I'm thankful for the awkward episode that is my life. It keeps things quite interesting. For instance, my first day of classes was extremely fun.

I only have Tuesday/Thursday classes, so, because the first day of classes at Lee was Wednesday, my first day was a day after everyone else's. In anticipation of forgetting my classes and room numbers, I jotted down the information for each of my classes on one piece of notebook paper and stuffed it into my pocket before heading to my first class. When I got to the building of my first class, I took out the paper and looked at it quickly, putting it back in my jacket before walking into the building. I obviously didn't want to be that kid, the one who has their face glued to their schedule. I'm officially a Sophomore, I thought. I am better than that now. Sadly, I was wrong.

I'm not exactly sure how the thing that took place next happened. Somehow, in the middle of looking for my classroom, my brain magically switched the room numbers. Instead of looking for room 306, I began to look for room 304. I'm pretty sure my brain wanted to prove to me that even Sophomores have to look at their schedule from time to time. After wandering aimlessly around the building for a few minutes, I decided to stop and ask some guy who looked just as lost I was. He wandered around for a few more minutes before directing me down the hall. I gave him a chipper, but still dignified, "Thank you," before heading to the classroom...the wrong classroom, mind you.

I walked into the room with a minute or two to spare and felt a little uneasy. The professor looked vaguely familiar, and I immediately thought he wasn't the professor listed on my schedule, that thing I refused to look at. I took a seat in the front row (The FRONT, you guys. Could I be any more conspicuous?), and placed all my stuff down before standing up to get a syllabus from his desk at the front of the room. I carried the syllabus all the way back to my desk and sat down. It was then that I read the class name. Needless to say, I was in the wrong classroom. I stood straight up, syllabus still in hand, and walked out of the room. I still feel somewhat bad for stealing the man's syllabus.

The awkward didn't end there. When I was finally seated in the correct classroom, after consulting the nifty little not-schedule in my pocket, the professor asked us all to introduce ourselves. If you are anything like me, hearing those words immediately induces a nervous sweat. I have this completely ridiculous fear of my voice cracking in the middle of roll call. It's silly, but it is what it is. I was one of the last ones to introduce myself, and I had been prepping myself the entire time. When it got to me, I said my name, except it didn't come out! I got all the way to "Williamson" before there was any sound at all!

Don't worry, though. I learned my lesson from all this. First, it's better to look like a silly Freshman with a schedule in hand than to go to the wrong classes. Second, I will never, ever make fun of pubescent teenage boys again. Voice-cracking is a real threat, people.

Decisions

I've never made a decision that I didn't want to make. Let me explain.

Before I wound up at Lee University, I was scheduled to attend the University of Georgia. The week before move-in, I was recruited to Lee in the most amazing way. I'll go into more depth in another post. The point is, when God dropped the offer in my lap I chose Lee. And it was a decision I wanted to make.

Since I've been at Lee, I've applied for more jobs than I can count. I prayed for something, anything, just to help me out with college expenses. During Christmas break, I applied for an on-campus job, and I felt really good about it. However, before hearing back about that job, I was offered a job in the Office of Admissions, no application necessary. I was ecstatic! After a semester of praying for a simple interview, God provided me with an impeccably timed job. I accepted the offer. And it was a decision I wanted to make.

Countless other times in my life, this has happened. Lately, however, I have realized that sometimes I have to make decisions that I don't really want to. Maybe this is old news to you. Maybe you are accustomed to making hard decisions that tear at your heart and keep you up all night with a Bible in your hand searching for some catch-all verse that will make the decision easier. But for me, this is incredibly new and incredibly difficult to swallow. I've never made a decision I didn't want to make. And let me tell you, it sucks.

I immediately think of my youth pastor and his family. They were offered a job recently at a church 12 hours away (give or take an hour). Being the amazing people they are, they went to God. Before any decision was made, their household was praying, praying for an answer, praying for guidance, praying for God's will. After seeking His will, they decided to take the offer. The beauty of their choice is that the job they were offered would cut their current pay in half, yet they took it. They took it because they felt God was urging them to take it. They didn't dwell on the fact that their finances were taking a tumble; they trusted God to sustain them. It was new and scary and hard, but they decided. Not because they wanted to move, but because God needed them elsewhere.

Earlier I said that choosing the option you don't want to choose sucks, and that's true. But choosing the option you need to choose is...freeing. I know that my decision was completely God-centered. Why? Because I was nowhere in it. Sometimes God's will aligns with ours, and the decision is easy and exhilarating. But sometimes, we have to push our will aside and really think about what God wants for us. The decision is hard and it can break your heart, but isn't that beautiful? Isn't it beautiful to know that you are exactly where you need to be doing exactly what you need to be doing? I think it is.