//thankful for the intentional formation of my narrative

my eyes are slowly being opened to the beauty of this amazing grace//

memoir.

For one reason or another, I think of my life in terms of how I would write about it in a memoir. I don't know why I do this, but I do. There are also times when I'm sitting in my room listening to music, and I picture that moment as a scene in a film--where the character is feeling either hopeless or hopeful as the music is playing in the background. It's in these moments that I step outside of myself for a second and see how that scene, chapter, or paragraph fits in to the whole story--how that scene furthers the main themes of my life.

I have one friend in particular that absolutely fascinates me. I could listen to her thoughts on matters of life, love, and God for hours on end--and I often have. She is starting to become an influential character in this chapter, as she is often the only person that completely understands my thoughts, frustrations, and dreams.

With that in mind, my friend was talking this morning about her anxiety of the future, and how easy it is to get wrapped up in those fears. The sad thing, she explained, was how our anxiety often blinds us from the beauty that is around us here and now.

To add on to that, I can't think of anything more beautiful, and terrifying, than surrender--to give all of our fears, dreams, and everything to our Creator. Sometimes I think that I'm living in the chapter titled "Surrender". Whereas other scenes in my life have pieced together the chapter "Redemption". But now I'm beginning to realize that redemption and surrender are not merely chapters, but substantial themes that are filled with beauty; beauty that I cannot overlook even in the midst of the fear of letting go.

It's November and I'm in over my head.

I found out this afternoon that my Interdisciplinary Studies application is due December 2nd...just about 4 months earlier than I thought.

Psychology. Sociology. Biblical Theology.

Here's to November: exploring, thinking, processing the questions I have surrounding women in the Evangelical church...while doing all of my other homework.

But now, this is what the Lord says-

he who created you, O Jacob,

he who formed you, O Israel:

Fear not, for I have redeemed you;

I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

Isaiah 43:1

#overwhelmed

It's Sunday night, almost 11:00, and I have barely started my homework. I'd say it's a combination of a busy weekend and too many other things to think about. And instead of doing my homework I'm writing this post, so maybe throw poor time management into the mix as well.

so much to process--many decisions that rest on more questions that need to be answered.

On a positive note, they're all good and exciting things--like reconsidering my major, plans for this summer, ministries to get involved in--but a lot to process nonetheless.

"A woman is not born a woman.

Nor does she become one when she marries a man,

bears a child and does their dirty linen,

not even when she joins a women's liberation movement.

She becomes a woman when she becomes what God wants her to be."

-Learning to Be a Woman by Kenneth and Floy Smith

Talking about traditional gender roles in a conservative, evangelical college is a frustrating way for me to start my day.

Good grief.

Finally Friday.

The weeks here at Wheaton seem to be just a huge blur. Academically, things are in full swing. It just hit me today that my average daily work load is more than I would have in a week at SPU (That could be an exaggeration, but hardly). I've really been enjoying my classes, especially Old Testament Lit. and Hebrew.

I feel really Old Testament-y on Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

This past Thursday I rode my bike to downtown Wheaton. My bike hasn't been holding up well these days--only one brake works, the handles are crooked, and sometimes the seat swivels. But hey, it gets me from point A to point B. I ended up studying in a coffee shop for the afternoon, and it reminded me of Seattle. I miss Seattle.

Anyway, for OT I had to re-read Deuteronomy. I found myself loving it even more than the first time I read it. In Deuteronomy, the Israelites are in a time of transition. Moses is speaking to the generation that will finally enter the Promised Land, and is re-telling the laws to this new generation on how they are to live once they cross the Jordan River. In the first few chapters of Deut., or in Moses' "first speech" of three in this book, he reminds the Israelites where they have been. The history of the Israelites is steeped in rebellion, but also in God's faithfulness despite of it all.

Remember where you have been. Remember what the Lord your God has done for you. Over and over and over Moses tells the Israelites to not forget that God brought them out of slavery, and has always been faithful.

"Be careful that you do not forget the Lord, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery" Deut. 6:12

I should mention that I've really been processing my time in Seattle lately. Almost everyday, without fail, I have to explain to at least one person why I went to Seattle, and why I transferred. After answering this question over and over again, I started to realize there was more to my coming's and going's than I had thought. I guess I've related to the Israelite's especially in my own time of transition--remembering where I have been, my story, and seeing God's faithfulness in His promises.

So Moses then tells the Israelites that once they cross the Jordan they will defeat nations that are both stronger and larger than they are.

"You may say to yourselves, 'These nations are stronger than we are. How can we drive them out?' But do not be afraid of them; remember well what the Lord your God did to Pharaoh and to all Egypt...Do not be terrified by them, for the Lord your God, who is among you, is a great and awesome God." Deut. 7:18, 21

New places are scary. Whether those new places are Wheaton, IL or the Promised Land--there is likely a challenge around the corner that needs to be faced.

But what I love is this:

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you" Deut. 31:6

Remember your story. Remember where you have been, and remember God's faithfulness and goodness in those places.

thoughts on packing, fathers, and the like.

Next week at this time I will be on Wheaton Passage-most likely backpacking/kayaking/canoeing with people I have never met before. I'm nervous. Very nervous. Maybe even more nervous than when I left for Seattle. Wait, scratch that, I was definitely more nervous going to Seattle--but this is a close second.

I did a majority of my packing this afternoon, and I think the reality of it all is finally setting in.

I'm transferring, and at this point, I would probably be less nervous going back to Seattle in the fall than starting a new school and going backpacking with strangers. Oh goodness gracious.

And all I want to do is to talk to my dad about how nervous I am (my dad is still not able to talk because of the triach in his neck). All I want is for him to comfort me.

I remember the night before I left for Seattle. Meghan and I ate fried chicken with my dad at a pond next to 55th street. On that hot September day my dad seemed more excited for me than I was--we were all sad, knowing that this was it for a while, but I remember him looking at me in a way that realized I was no longer a little girl and that I was ready to go.

Gosh I could use a look like that again.

It's important for a daughter to have a father, and at this point, I need to hear my father tell his little girl that she is ready to go.

Naturally, this summer has turned out to be far from what I expected it to be--seems to be a theme in my life, and sometimes I wonder why I don't expect the unexpected more often.

It's been a draining week, as my dad is in intensive care again. At this point, I bet I can drive to Northwestern Memorial with my eyes closed...but I don't plan on trying. More than anything I want him to be well and free--to "enjoy the best city in the summer" as he says, to laugh and joke with him--gosh, to hear his laugh would be the best thing. I'm hoping and praying for my dad to find his way through those tangled tubes and to live.

And so there I was: sitting in my dads hospital room, reading Everyone's Normal Till You Get to Know Them by John Ortberg, and I stumble across this gem of a thought:

"All day, in a million different ways, in our homes, our neighborhoods, our churches, our families, our friendships, our cities, you and I are either moving the world a little closer to God's picture of shalom- peace- or moving it a little farther away".

I spent some time in Michigan City this weekend, and even for a mere 24 hours, it was so good to have pure summer fun. There was one point this afternoon when I found myself laughing so hard I could not breathe. And so there I was: on the top bunk-bed, a slab of fudge in one hand, a nauseating amount of smoked meat in my stomach, and laughing so hard with some of my closest friends that I could hardly believe I cried earlier that day.

In the midst of it I couldn't help but think "this is Holy". Honestly, it was. The trauma that this summer has delivered makes it harder to hope--but in that basement this afternoon, I believe I got a taste of shalom--confident that laughter has some place in God's picture of peace.

Please pray for my dad. Pray for healing and lots of strength.

transitions.

Last week I was going through my bookcase--organizing, donating, dusting. I came across a piece of paper with a quote on it that was given to me by a woman that I love and miss very much.

It says this:

"A woman is not born a woman. Nor does she become one when she marries a man, bears a child and does their dirty linen, not even when she joins a women's liberation movement. She becomes a woman when she becomes what God wants her to be."

-Learning to be a Woman by Kenneth and Flay Smith

Amen, sister.

Almost immediately after I got home, I started to deep clean my room. I had to make space for the stuff that I was bringing back from Seattle, but in the process, I was donating and throwing away so many things that I no longer wanted. It's funny how at one point something that was so important to me now means nothing.

I came across so many journals from my middle school and high school years, and it was shocking to see that I'm still praying for the things I prayed for years ago. Years later I'm somehow still captivated by this whole redemption thing--confident that she is worth the wait. It seemed fitting for me to start this time of transition by picking through my story--with Superchick and Jon Foreman playing in the background.

I'm heading home
Yeah, but I'm not so sure
That home is a place
You can still get to by train

-Southbound Train by Jon Foreman

I love and hate that Seattle gave me what I needed--even if that was far from what I wanted.

Oh, what a story.

And there she goes--Confident--

Breeze through her hair--Free--

Knowing in her depth and by every breath,

That It hasn't been easy--but It has been Good--

Damn Good.

And then there are some days when I'm so unbelievably thankful for being here; days when I'm overwhelmed with how blessed I am.

I like Seattle, very much. I especially love when Seattle lets the sun shine, and I can clearly see the snow-capped mountains. I love reading along the water. I guess I wouldn't mind some more flat land, but whatever.

It's funny to think about how perfectly God places people at different seasons of your life, isn't it?

Leaving here will be bittersweet. More bitter than sweet on a day like today.

My eyes are slowly being opened to the beauty of redemption.

So much of modern life is a feverish anticipation of future activity and excitement. We have to learn to step back from this into the freedom and possibility of the present.

-Fr. Bede Griffiths

Yesterday was just one of those days. I had one of those mornings where I felt unsure about everything. One of those days where I wanted to get the hell out of Seattle, but I didn't really want to leave either. Not wanting to be here nor there, and tired of being stuck in the middle. Uncertainty about school, the future, the past, everything.

I had one of those afternoons too. One filled with sadness and heartache, and tired of not knowing what to do about it, not knowing who to talk to about it. Struggling with the past and afraid of the future.

Oh, it was just one of those days.

But last night was a little different. I was rowing on Lake Union, with the sun setting behind me, and the sound of the water lapping up against the boat. It was in that moment where I felt completely surrounded by the love and peace of Christ, and knew that everything will be ok. And even if everything was just ok for those precious moments, it was such a blessing to be able to enjoy this beautiful place, and to confidently say that I love living here.

Seattle tugs on my heart strings. This year has been the best and worst year of my life, and I will be sad to leave.

macaroni van

I like to stare out my window.

At the cars, the dingy white building, the boats

Two days in a row, now, I've noticed a van the color of macaroni and cheese.

I like that macaroni van.

I like it a lot.

thoughts.

just some thoughts that are a product of my Monday night procrastination....

I have such a strong desire to lead the broken in the process of becoming whole again.

Redemption and Hope--two of my favorite words (well I don't know if I would say favorite, but they are up there on the list. I also like the word boomboom.)

And after some deep consideration, I would never be able to work at (or own?!) a practice that is not Christ-centered. True redemption and hope can only be found in a loving relationship with our Maker-and for that I am certain.

I've also realized that I love to encourage dreams-and even more so if they are radical and a bit crazy!

So may you (if there is anyone that actually reads my blog haha) be enthralled with the redemption and hope that is found in Him, and Him alone.

Slot Machines

I hate slot machines for the sole reason that they give artificial hope in something so fleeting.

May we give little power to hope in a new house or a new phone; let us be excited about change and new “things”, but such things have no business messing with Hope. We feed these slot machines in our lives- always hoping to win the jackpot, the right college, the nicest car.

I often place Hope where it need not belong. Hope belongs in the story that we are writing with our Maker. Hope is for community- that all may taste love in true community that is sweeter than three cherries lining up in a row. Hope is for the day that I can see the face of my Maker void of how I have sculpted Him out to be; Hope to see Him without the snarl of anger or the eyes of intoxication. Hope in heaven, but also Hope in the grace that appears in the meantime.

Our Hope is found in Him, nothing else could ever compare to it. I see this desire for Hope in the eyes of the greedy and the broken. All I want is for this world to taste and see real Hope. If it were up to me, I would destroy all slot machines, but if they must stay, at least get them out of the Las Vegas Airport.

I'm at the teacup trying to do my Chemistry homework.

But that can wait.

I have some thoughts I'd like to share.

My Theater professor told us that we were created in God's image, and that we are co-authors with Christ. We need to be creating because our Maker creates. He was explaining that when set designers create a set, everything on stage is completely intentional and is furthering the story.

Furthering the story.

I can't help but wonder if when we create, we are furthering the story of Christ and bringing Him glory through that.

"when we say that we aren't good at drawing or painting", my professor said, "its because that is the message that has been pounded into our heads. We have been taught that education comes first in order to get a good job and then settle down in a nice house. But we are missing the point".

He went on to say that creating isn't even limited to painting and drawing, and that we each have our own ways that we like to create.

I liked that.

It's not so bad here, after all. I'm learning to be in the moment instead of getting wrapped up in what might be.

Because on this day there is peace, and although tomorrow it may be gone, i might as well enjoy it while it lasts.