20 Years and Counting...

I haven’t posted in awhile.  Without an assignment, blank pages intimidate me.  I thought instead of a witty blog post with one central theme, I would share what I’ve learned this year in a de-clutter sort of way.  Like the trunk of my car, my mind is full of wacko and intense things; this page is going to help me maneuver them in paragraph/list form.  OH, and the random pictures, are exactly that... random pictures of my year.  You're welcome.

**Disclaimer:  All of these lessons are learned because of my actions.  In other words, I made these mistakes.  This is not just a passive rant to the world of the all wrong done to me… the opposite.  I am convicted of doing all of these, and trying to improve these areas in my life.  Oh, I’m not perfect in these areas either.**

1. Do not speak for anybody but yourself.  “I think _____ and I know so-and-so thinks this, too.”  People are not meant to be used as a buffer when stating an opinion.  Be confident in your statement, or don’t share it. Well, here’s the thing, you know that thing you do?  The one where you smack your gum and sniffle your snot in my ear when I’m trying to turn in an essay on a very strict deadline? It’s very annoying.  Your boyfriend, professor, and bank-teller agree…
2. Eggnog is not the new pumpkin spice.
3. Humility is attractive—well, that is true humility is attractive.  C. S. Lewis defines humility as, “not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.”  Thinking about how crappy of a person you are 24/7 is still considered egocentric.  Take the focus off yourself.  One of the scariest prayers is found in Psalms 139 where he says, “Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”  God will reveal the areas in your life that are broken, but he will reveal your strengths, too.  Stay humble. Root all your confidence in God, not yourself.  It will not waver. 
4. Don’t try to please people.
   
5. Celebrate everything.  If it’s good and exciting in the slightest bit, give it the credit it deserves.  When I was feeling a little hungry, I wanted a good snack.  I found out there was extra chips and salsa, and I freaked out!  It’s one of my favorite snacks.  I ordered some pictures and it was only 63 cents. I had exact change!  I got eight hours of sleep!  Make it a big deal.  But here’s the kicker—celebrate everything for others, too.  This used to be easy for me.  As a kid, it comes naturally for most.  The joy of a four year old is easily impressed on the four year right next to them.  But as adults, it gross more difficult.  We work harder, and unfortunately, it doesn’t always pay off.  Most think jealousy is the root.  I disagree.  Jealous is the byproduct of comparison.  If you’re not comparing, there’s nothing to get jealous over.  If you’re not jealous, you can celebrate. You got straight A’s!  You lost weight!  You got a job!  You found your sunglasses!  You made a great dinner!  IT’S TIME TO CELEBRATE!
   
   

   

   Me being one of the only students to dress up on halloween. 

   

   I was a bat. 

6. Your roommate will forgive you for using their toothbrush.  (Especially if you tell them for the first time in a public blog.) Sorry, Dani.
7. Not shaving is not a sin.  Okay, 14 year old girl and mom in CVS?  Why don’t you just back off… your stares are not subtle.  Stop judging.  (This one is a little passive.  Like I’ve said, I’m not perfect. Refer to the disclaimer.)
8. “Agree to disagree” is a treasure.  But like all treasures, treat that saying with care and rarity.  It’s not an excuse to not fix things.  Also, tying along with fixing things, hanging up on somebody is not good.  Sitting at twenty years old, unfortunately, it had to be a topic of conversation.  “It just seems so obvious. I shouldn’t be having this conversation to convince you; it’s rude.”
9. If your face-wash burns, it’s working.

   

   Before face-wash.

   

   After face-wash.

    
10. Don’t hang up on people.  Especially the ones who are closest to you.
11. Apathy is extremely dangerous.  The danger stems from the unique subtly of it.  (Unlike the stares of that 14 year old. Sorry. I’m still offended.)  It can destroy all relationships—faith, parental, romantic, or friend.  There’s a difference between content (finding the joy and satisfaction in the relationship) and complacent (not moving forward or engaging in developing it further.) 
12. Just because you don’t remember farting doesn’t mean you didn’t.

    

    I just like my nose in this picture.

13. Fake it ‘till you make it.  AAA’s got a point.  Even if you don’t feel great, fake it.  I’m not saying you need to raise your voice five octaves higher and hug strangers as if they’re going to deliver your baby.  But what I’m saying is, even if you don’t feel like being happy, say positive things anyway.  I believe this, because after awhile you’ll realize it releases you. You’ll be released of all that jealousy, bitterness, and anger.  What you declare will be.  If you just say negative things or harbor pessimistic thoughts all the time, your day will be just that—negative.  Let me reiterate, I am not condoning being a “fake” person.  (That sounds like middle school.)  I’m encouraging you to muster up a teaspoon of positive attitude, even if it’s not 100 percent genuine, and after awhile of acting positive, you’ll see the results of living positive, and it will become natural.  That was a run-on sentence, and I loved it.  Speaking truth, even if your emotions don’t agree, will have a positive effect. 
14. The only power a stigma has, is the power you give it. 
15. Every person has a platform and a purpose.  The main struggle I’ve wrestled with is my talent.  I love to write.  I know this blog doesn’t do me justice.  However, I have found my passion.  Writing scripts and short stories brings me so much joy.  I got mad at God one day as I was driving.  I did well on a paper, (keep reading, this isn’t a backdoor brag) and I genuinely got annoyed.  I verbally asked God, “Why writing?”   I won’t be a doctor healing small children around the world.  I won’t be a counselor helping people find hope in unlikely circumstances.  Or a registered dietitian helping cancer patients find an appropriate meal plane. (SHOUT OUT TO MY ROOMMATES WHO ARE GOING TO BE ALL OF THE ABOVE!!!)  I said, “Why do I find my passion is this?”  Art seems trivial in the greatness of the world.  I felt small.  But the Lord is unconditionally patient with me.  He has gently reminded me I have a platform.  I have a calling.  I am very aware it is close to impossible to be successful in the literary world.  But I serve a Big God, and I will dream big.  More importantly, I will be obeying big.  I say all this to remind you, if you are an accountant, a mom, a greater, or a cashier—you have power and purpose.  Your platform is exactly where you are now.  My pastors have repeatedly said, “be faithful where you are.”  Martin Luther said, “The Christian shoemaker does his duty not by putting little crosses on the shoes, but by making good shoes, because God is interested in good craftsmanship.”  In other words, be the best student you can be, be the best mom you can be, be the best doctor you can be, be the best ____________ you can be. 

If you read this whole list, WOW. If you didn’t I hate you, and we’re no longer Facebook friends.  Just kidding.  We’ll still be Facebook friends so you can see how much I don’t like you in my passive Facebook statuses.

As I finish this blog, I keep remembering more lessons I’ve learned. But If I don’t end now, I’ll be forced to keep smelling myself and drinking more coffee, and everybody knows emotional PMS symptoms get worse with caffeine, and I might get depressed looking at this screen, and start to contradict everything I just said about joy and happiness and living and balloons, because I’ll start hating myself.  So I guess lesson 16. Women’s hormones do mess with their emotions. We’re not crazy. **whispers to self** “I’m not crazy. Ssshhh. I’m not.” 

I'm officially twenty in this picture. 

Now this just got super weird.  I’ll stop while I’m ahead (?).  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! 

Peter and Paul

Peter Pan never said it.

But his heart beat it,

To die will be an awfully big adventure.

Not an implication the latter is aspired—or

even wanted.  A Far cry

from a suicide ballot.

It is a testimony of purpose.

When your soul is immortal—even the definition

like a person who is called by name,

Lost—which we all are.

He, more than most, would question his purpose.

But unlike this lost boy, 

what a gift!

With vaunt we cry! We do

Die. With death comes purpose.

To not have a mother is sad.

To not have a death is tragic.

We find purpose in knowing we have a completion.

For a soul that is lost, searching will never be found.

Could Paul and Peter be friends?

Would bitterness be of Peter—to never experience

what Paul trusts is the absolute gain. 

Thankful am I to once be a lost, too

But now I am found.  I know I have purpose

And His death proves it.

By grace, mine, too.

Opening Bell

She sat alone.  Not because she was lonely, because she was early.  You know those people.  They're early and loyal.  And Debbi was that person.  Loyal.  I said,  "Do you come here often?" And yes, after it came out, I realized I had just addressed a woman in the corner of a local Dallas coffee shop with a creepy pick-up line.  

I have never been to Dallas.  After visiting the Perot Museum of Nature and Science, we checked our phones, like good hipsters, for a local coffee shop that was open. We came across the Opening Bell.  I called to see their hours, and if they were having live music that night.  "Yes, we are.  In fact, they're two men from Australia.  They'll start at eight."  

We arrived early, too.  I ordered a jalapeño kolache and an everything bagel for dinner.   I sat down, with my friends and saw Debbi.  She said she's been coming here for ten years now.  Over the years, she made friends with the owner, Pascale Hall.  

Simple "get-to-know-you" questions rambled out of my mouth, and about the third question in, I knew this woman was a gem.  I asked what she did.  She said she hasn't been working lately, due to some health issues.  I said, "Well, what about hobbies? What do you love to do?"  She said, "Music. I love to listen to live music."  

I got permission to record some of her stories:

"My very first concert was the Rolling Stones.  The first year they came to America.  It was after The Beatles had come and uh, it was just so awesome.  I've just seen some really fun shows.  You pay $3.50 for a ticket, and you'd see all these bands."  

"I remember my mother had a ticket, she was going to go see Ray Charles, and I had gone to downtown Fort Worth on a shopping trip and bought the single from the Beach Boys, 'God Only Knows'.  I came home, and then I went to my elementary school. They had a carnival, you know?  And I stayed too late, and I didn't come home in time, and my mother didn't get to go see Ray Charles.  I always felt so bad about that."

She said, she always let her kids go to concerts, and sometimes she tagged along, too.  She wanted her children to experience what she had when she was younger.

"Well, you know my dad, when The Beatles came to Dallas, he wouldn't let me go.  I think I was twelve.  He was afraid I would get hurt.  There was a girl who got pushed into some glass.  She had to go to the hospital.  My dad said, 'See?'  And I said, 'I know, but Paul McCartney called her!  That would have been worth it!!'  Or so I thought, hahaha."

Debbi was a doll.  She told me some of her story.  She has two beautiful children--one son and one daughter.  She's lived in Texas most of her life.  She asked if "man-buns" were still in. My friend and I, maybe too aggressively, laughed "YES!"  We shared stories and favorite bands/artists.  We shared our lives for a good amount of time.

Talking with Debbi, there is a distinct awe in her spirit.  She genuinely loves observing and appreciating people, music, and the environments around her.  She said she hasn't been able to do the things she used to do since she was diagnosed with breast cancer.  She gracefully smiled and mentioned how music has never disappointed her.  Debbi is a light.  She doesn't shine on herself, but others.  Art is only beautiful when eyes like Debbi's delight in it.  She makes the art known and appreciated.  I told her I wanted to write about her, because she has been apart of making so many people famous, and now it was her turn.  

Debbi 

Opening Bell coffee shop is a new home for my heart.  The food was fantastic.  In addition to dinner (my kolache and a bagel), I got dessert, too—one chocolate and one red velvet cake pop, and a bottomless cup of their specialty drip coffee.  The owner, Pascale Hall, came to sit with Debbi and their friends, and I had the privilege to meet and praise her work.

Because of her shop, she has offered locals an opportunity to appreciate.  It is her beautiful gift to Dallas.  (Not just the wonderful food and beverages, but artists, too.)

Pascale, owner

Josh Rennie-Hynes and Steve Grandy are both Australian artists that were on an accident one-week tour in America.  Josh has a unique sound that relates to a blend between The Head and the Heart and Dallas Green from City and Colour.  My favorite song is called, “Lucy”. 

I was going to tell you how I felt, but it gets the better of me

I always tried to be the strong one, I tried to be what you need

But now I’m sitting by the railway station, I’m thinking

‘bout boarding that train

Maybe I’ll head down south again, although in winter it

Only rains

You could’ve called me your father, although it would’ve been

so strange

And I would’ve called you Lucy, I’ve always loved that name

Josh traded his album for a cup of peppermint tea.  I’ve been listening to his art and have enjoyed every song on his album February (also available on iTunes, Spotify, and YouTube).  He and I exchanged some information, and we plan on meeting next year for another tour.  (Maybe some local venues in Fayetteville and Tulsa?  Fingers crossed!  You don’t want to miss him.) 

(left to right) Steve Grady and Josh Rennie-Hynes

Thanks to Pascale and her beautiful artists den, I was gifted with a precious night.  If you find yourself in Dallas, please stop by the Opening Bell. 

Our role in humanity is to appreciate.  We were blessed with the ability to sense and appreciate—others, time, views, sounds, stories, food, man-buns, jokes, textures, favorite cotton t-shirts, smiles, freckles, long car drives, and everything else.  

Stupid Cheeks

This is a mini blog. 

Okay, next.

I'm on week four of being a Christian camp counselor.

Okay, next. 

Begin reading.

Walking into Starbucks on my time off, I had this weird feeling something was missing... If you've ever been a counselor or a parent, you know what I'm talking about.  It's this sensation that there is LITERALLY nobody behind you, and it's not normal.  I catch myself turning around every minute to make sure there are still twenty-two pairs of eyes and legs shuffling behind me.  When you're leading a flock of sweating, laughing, and corn-dog-filled-campers around a land where the term "Oakhaven" means getting food, "Cracker Barrel" means chaos and milkshakes, and "Fundatory" means exactly what you thinking- fun AND mandatory, your life gets consumed by childlike joy.  I say this is a "mini" blog, because I don't have much time to spit this out.  But, honestly, the best part of my job (if I can even call it that), is challenging myself to be more like a child.  I want to have that precious faith Jesus talks about.  I want to be careful not to be "childish" but strive to be "childlike".   It's easy in a world of theology, philosophy, and other studies that try to answer such big questions, to rely on answers and not faith.

Adults think it's cute when kids believe in something that doesn't make sense.  I think it's brave.  I think knowing answers is important, but I think asking questions is beautiful.  I've recently been asked by many people, "What if at the end, this whole 'Christianity' thing isn't real?"  

I don't know.  That's why it's called, "faith". 

Some people would answer, "then I lived with good morals and had peace."  But I think that's a "by default" reason. 

I refuse to have that "by default" faith. 

I'm going to trust He is real, and at the end, I didn't "happen to live well"... because maybe I didn't.

Maybe, I was uncomfortable. 

Maybe, I had a lot of pain.  

Maybe, I hurt others. 

Instead, "I lived a life where I put faith into something bigger than myself.  Something so mysterious and powerful, I can't explain it."  

And thank goodness, for that.  Thank goodness a mind like mine, very similar to yours, doesn't have all the answers.  Thank goodness, a frizzy, nose-ring-wearing, college student who still shoots snot rockets and misses her aim, can't look up all the science facts and explain all doubts in the world. Thank goodness truth isn't tangible. 

Thank goodness there is a supernatural God that isn't limited to human minds and abilities.  I'm thankful and satisfied daily with the unexplainable.  

I've learned never to trust something you know everything about, because that in itself is contradicting. 

Here's what I do know:

I know we aren't here to die.  I know I have a purpose.  And I believe the explanation is a God that loves, cherishes, protects, and gives me life.  

If you say it's ignorant, and I need to spend more time searching.  I have.  I've tried to doubt God.  It just proved empty and desperately dry. My stomach ached.  I couldn't sleep.  I had anxiety.  I felt worthless.  And it lasted less than month.  

It's childish to tell our Dad, "Nah, I'm good.  I can go through this divorce, alcoholism, finical burden, death, depression... on my own"

It's childlike to humble ourselves, and admit, "Dad, I'm broken.  I'm so messy.  I hurt people and I'm hurt by people.  Forgive me, and give me life, please. I'm desperate."

I don't believe in perfection.  I believe in honesty.  

Jesus wasn't crucified on the cross for the pure.

I'm voluneralbe and I'm honest.  There are moments at camp, a kid's chubby stupid cheeks, the way she pushes her stupid tongue out of her stupid mouth, and squeals/whines/cries with her stupid voice about how she didn't get another turn on the stupid swing, can annoy me.

But the patience I'm learning with these innocent children, is minuscule compared to the patience He has with me and my whiney complaining doubts about His character... for nineteen years. 

I'm so unworthy.  

He's so perfect.