Closing Spring

Hello my friends.

I managed to blog for every week in February, but once midterms and spring break hit in March my life pretty much turned into homework and driving places. But that's okay, because I have a week of classes and then finals and I'll be done with this semester and officially half-way through my undergraduate career.

Here's the last couple months in review.

I don't remember much about March. Other than the fact that I turned 20, I had Spring Break and hung with my brother, and I went exploring a bit at a beautiful spot on my usual commute.

Sun.

In April I explored a portion of the John Holder Trail. I only got so far before I had to turn around due to muddy trails, the threat of rain, and shoes not made for hiking. But I shall go back.

Mud.

Also in April, April 9th to be exact, I participated in a human trafficking awareness event on my campus with the organization I am a member of AND got to see the one and only John Mark McMillan in concert with a good friend. The concert was small, we were standing right in front, people were dancing, everyone sang along, and it was overall the best concert experience I've had (and I've seen Mumford & Sons).

JMM & Jude Moses were three feet in front of us at this point.

On Easter I went driving and hiking with my parents in the Red River Gorge. It was the first time I'd been to the RRG, and I can't wait to go back this summer for some extended hiking.

"Red River Gorgeous"

Other developments include the Lord giving my friends and I a house to rent, Him giving me a summer job working forty hours a week with a schedule that works around my current job, and hopefully visiting family later in the summer.

I have a feeling that this summer will be a mini season of preparation that serves as a bridge to the next major seasons of my life. I am looking forward to what develops and what I do with my time when I'm not working. I hope it is a restful summer that prepares me for next year but most of all I hope it is a productive summer of activity and learning and growing and involvement. 

As a sneak peak, I have big plans for this blog and I look forward to developing this space as well as fine-tuning my vision and purpose for it. Thank you in advance for hanging on for the ride!

To end this post, here's Brady Toops, the artist who opened for John Mark McMillan, singing his song "Lord Have Mercy." Prepare yourself, his voice is too beautiful.

xoxo

Excitingly Small Events

There's a lot of things I could be writing right now.

I started writing a post. Actually I full-on finished a post. But it's a bit too much and a bit too raw to publish. So we'll skip that for now.

Instead, here's a few things in no particular order that have authentically and genuinely excited me or reached down deep in me in some way. I'm back to lists, folks, and I won't apologize.

• I got to help a dear friend surprise another dear friend with her arrival. There's nothing like truly surprising someone and seeing them scream and jump up and down.
• My little brother played at the Hard Rock Cafe on Beale St. in Memphis, TN for his friend Apollo Mighty. He's to the left, the bearded one wearing the vest with the guitar. *big sister freak out time*

Via Apollo Mighty

• I ordered 5 pairs of Warby Parker glasses for their home try-on. I'll pick my favorite pair and once I buy them Warby Parker will send a pair of glasses to someone in need. iamsoexcited.
•  Nickel Creek is returning. Enough said.

• In 8 days I will be 20 years old. Just let that sink in. You don't understand my excitement.
• Thoughts and images of summer. My vitamin D is lacking and I need to see the sun.

• One of my best friends sent me a simple black cord necklace with a tiny pendent that says "love" and I haven't taken it off. She also sent me tea. She loves me.
• John Mark McMillan "Future / Past"

"The constellations are swimming inside

The breadth of your desire
Where could I run, where could I hide
from your heart's jealous fire"

Also check out his song "Love at the End."

• "The Thing About Being a Poinsettia" by Sarah Thebarge. I got a poinsettia tattooed on my right shoulder in December and little did I know how much it would mean to me. I knew the legend and what it meant, how God takes the little things and transforms them into beauty. But this means something so different and something so much more and I am so, so thankful.

Thank you for reading. Blog post ideas are welcome. :)

xoxo

Rach

Coming Back 'Round

I found a book at my hometown's library the other day. The book is called 7.

Well. The full title is, 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess by Jen Hatmaker, a pastor's wife and church planter who lives in Austin, Texas.

The basic premise reads as this: she, her husband, occasionally their three children,  and a small group of her friends she dubbed as "The Council" chose seven areas of excess and created some sort of fast for each for one month.  The seven topics were food, clothes, possessions, media, waste, spending, and stress. I'm only in the middle of the third month right now. The book reads like a diary, she wrote every other day or so about how the fasts were going and what she was learning.

For lack of better words, she's an extroverted hoot. I probably wouldn't be able to handle her. Actually, because she has a fantastic sense of humor she probably wouldn't be able to handle me because I'd be laughing the whole time she'd be talking.

But, this lady is so very sincere. She loves so very fiercely. She knows her stuff but isn't afraid to admit she's wrong or messed up.

Jen Hatmaker is reminding me about crazy passionate people. Unapologetically passionate about something of God so much you talk about it all the time even if you annoy your family and friends. So passionate you do everything you can in the name of that something.

//

While I was reading, I realized something. I used to be like that.

Call it childish naivety, but I was going to change the world.

Eventually, I got so tired of being alone in that passion. I was tired of no one caring. Because in all seriousness, most people don't give a damn about anything. We're scared, we think it's not cool, and who would look out for number one if we're helping others? I got jaded in my isolation and in the environment I was in.

Today when people say things like I used to, I inwardly shake my head and cynically think "been there, done that, good luck with that." 

//

The more I think about it, the more I realize why Jesus said “Let the children come to me…. [T]he Kingdom of God belongs to those who are like these children."

Don't you love/hate it when kids get super excited over stuff and won't shut up about it? Well, I'm pretty sure that's what Jesus meant. Passion.

In the movie "Amazing Grace" the character William Pitt, eventual British Prime Minister and friend of William Wilberforce stated that "...we're too young to realize that certain things are impossible!"

Children are foolish enough to do things that adults think they're too cool for or have too much responsibility for.

For the past year or two, I've been frightened of anybody mentioning radical love and radical action. Because I used to be excited and ready to do those things. Now all I worry about is if I'll have enough money or if I'll have to make awkward conversation or get to know people I don't particularly want to get to know. I made a bubble that I can stretch but never, never break. Because it would cost me my selfish comfort. I carry around "irresponsible responsibility" as Mark Batterson called it in his book Wild Goose Chase. "Responsibility" that we use as an excuse to not do the right thing.

//

Last night I went to a meeting for an organization on campus that promotes awareness about human trafficking. My new friends there talked about boycotting chocolate, buying fair trade t-shirts to sell for fundraising, and making big plans for awareness projects. These were things I used to do things about, believe in, and dream about. These were things I had more or less given up. Yet, He's brought be back.

This post did not go as planned. But it turned into what it has, because God is ever so slowly turning me step by step back to His call. His call of justice, of changing the world, of caring for the issues and people He so dearly loves, of working and dreaming big dreams of His kingdom. Doing hard things that don't always turn out the way you think they should. Failing. Being in awkward situations. Giving up stuff. Picking up a cross.

I think He's bringing me back 'round to His radical love, and I am so, so ready to dream again. 

Commas, Shoes, and Accents! Oh, my!

In desperation to write a blog a week, I found myself Googling. (Or Binging, I did use Bing.) You may call it "lazy," but I call it "humanity pooling our resources." In the words of Lorde's latest hit: So there.

I found myself on the blog of Mary Demuth (one of those Christian authors I was pretty sure I'd heard of before) and she offered one of the best posts on blog idea posts I've ever seen.

Number 7 on her list was "write ten things folks don't know about you." Again, sounds lazy, but I have 8 chapters worth of reading to do this weekend so here we are.

Important things. Via flickr.

1. In rare moments (usually during a full moon) I can be talkative. Shocker I know, but it happens. After I regretfully spill my guts I go back to my mind-dweller self.
2. I still don't like my university that much. Or the concept of college in general. But I need to learn the skills and earn a degree to actually work as a Dietitian. So I'm toughing it out. I'll need to get my Master's at some point, but I'll at least have a big girl job by that point and can have a real life. Because college is not real life. Don't fool yourself.
3. I'm in love with any sport or activity that involves boards. Skateboarding, surfing, snowboarding, longboarding, you name it. I love it. One day I might actually learn how to do one or two (or all?!) of these.
4. I am terrible at answering texts. Just ask my best friends. It may be because I dislike text conversations and their awkward endings. But even texts that require a simple response I won't reply to. I am attempting to get better at that.
5. I live in the South, but strong Southern accents tend to drive me up the wall. For some odd reason they really stand out to me, but if I know the person I usually get used to it. I'm trying to teach myself to look/listen past the accent and love the person but it's a challenge.
6. I love, love, love learning about people. If I could, I would sit all my friends and acquaintances down and have them tell me about themselves and answer all my questions about them. I believe that being honest and being our true selves around people is one of most beautiful things in the world, and I live for those moments.
7. I use commas too often. I'm an advocate of the Oxford comma (see below example), but I simply use them too much probably because I like to use interjections in my writing and commas seem like the best way to do that. I also use parentheses like nobody's business. Editing my blog posts consist of removing commas and parentheses.

***OXFORD COMMA EDUCATION***

Without oxford comma: I wrote letters to my parents, John Green and J.K. Rowling.

With oxford comma: I wrote letters to my parents, John Green, and J.K. Rowling.

See, kiddos? Without the oxford comma, we assume John Green and J.K. Rowling are my parents. With it, we realize that I am writing letters to my parents and two authors. All objections are invalid.

8. I occasionally write text messages with long words while unconsciously using the syntax used by a member of the Crawley family in Downton Abbey. Because I'm a nerd. I also like to pretend my car is a mini cooper. Apparently I'm delusional in all aspects of life.
9. A dream of mine is to live in a tiny house. Like these. I'd probably build/buy a movable one and plop it down whenever I'd have to move. I enjoy simple living, and an even simpler house is a challenge I've wanted to live out for a long time. I have an entire pinterest board dedicated to tiny homes.
10. When ever I meet, pass, or observe a person, I always, always, always look at their shoes first. This makes it difficult for me to pick out shoes to wear (even though my own shoe collection is pretty simple), because I so whole-heartedly believe  that shoes say a lot about a person. I would pass up a good-looking man proclaiming his undying love for me if he was wearing the wrong shoes.

Viola! Hopefully you learned 10+ new things today, including the necessity of Oxford commas. 

You're welcome. 

xoxo

Mountains of Dust

For Christmas my brother gave me Gungor's new album, I Am Mountain.

The title track starts off this way:

I am mountain, I am dust

Constellations made of us

There’s glory in the dirt

A universe within the sand
Eternity within a man

 Part of the bridge states:

Momentary carbon stories

From the ashes

Filled with holy ghost

Life is here now

The rest of the song follows this theme, that we are nothing yet we are everything. We are small yet we are huge. We can do nothing on our own yet we have the capacity for everything.

 

I think we forget that.

Some people are scared and accumulate wealth, power, or egotism in an effort to forget and discard their nothingness.

Some people are scared and hide within themselves and won't develop or reveal their full capacity as a person in an effort to forget and discard their greatness.

I believe both these stances are destructive and irresponsible.

We are truly nothing. A natural disaster can wipe us off the face of the planet within moments. Wars and human rights crises consistently illustrate human kind's destructive nature. In the big scheme of things, we are ants aimlessly wandering around and destroying our watery planet hanging in the middle of one galaxy amidst thousands in a big, black, vacuum of a universe that is only God knows how large. We are dust.

Yet. Oh, how very yet.

That same God hand-crafted every atom that ever was or will be. That same God breathed life into us unworthy humans. He was the one who made eternity touch this earth at the resurrection of His Son. He brought us purpose - Himself, to love Him and to love His beloved. Those same cosmos that engulf us in wonder are held within the Creator, the personal God that inhabits our hearts. We are created in His image and we. are. mountain.

Yes, we are nothing. But we are everything.

There is grace when we sin and fall. There is Love to keep us going.

A paraphrase of Romans 5:8 reads as follows:

"You are loved more than you will ever know by Someone who died to know you."

Be vast. Be brilliant. For you are the created loved by the Creator. You have been given the capacity of the cosmos to work for the better.

This is what I have been reveling in. This is my encouragement to you today.

Hello, I'm the Doctor

"Who's she?"

"Nobody important."

"'Nobody important.' Blimey, that's amazing. D'ya know, in 900 years of time and space I've never met anyone who wasn't important before?"

Today is November 23rd, 2013.

50 years ago, a little science fiction show about a mad humanoid alien in a blue time-travelling spaceship premiered on the BBC.

"He's C.S. Lewis meets H.G. Wells meets Father Christmas; that's the Doctor" stated Verity Lambert, Doctor Who's producer, and the first woman producer ever employed by the BBC.

50 years. 1963 through 1989, a TV movie in 1996, then the new series in 2005 running through the present.

Here's a few basics for non-Whovians:

• The Doctor is a 900+ year old Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey. Time Lords "regenerate" and get a new body when they are about to die; the Doctor has regenerated 11 times thus far. He's the same person, he just looks different and displays different aspects of his personality with each version.
• He lives and travels in his stolen TARDIS (time and relative dimension in space), a time machine spaceship that's more or less alive. She's disguised as a 1950's police box, she's "bigger on the inside" and she won't always take you where you want to go, but she will take you where you need to go.
• He travels with one or two companions, usually a human and usually a woman, who get caught up in his latest adventure and join him in the TARDIS at his invitation. We won't get into how he loses companions or why they leave. It's too painful.
• His adventures happen in the past, in the present day, and in the future. He's visited Shakespeare, Vincent Van Gogh, and the like. He was there for the 2012 London Olympics (the episode aired in 2006), he's rescued human colonies on alien planets, and he's rescued aliens from Earth. Let's just say he gets around.

Doctors 1 - 11

Why do we Whovians love Doctor Who so much? I can't speak for everyone, but here's why the story of the Doctor and his companions mean so very, very much to me.

1. The Doctor, despite all he goes through, is still a cheerful, curious, mad professor sort of a fellow. I started watching Doctor Who in a not-so-awesome season of life and I wanted to be like him. I wanted to live fully and pull myself up and care because that's what he does, he cares. He asks questions, gets into trouble, and discovers amazing things. The show is a mass of creativity and impossible things and it opens your mind up to just about anything. Ask why and how, the answers can lead you anywhere. And in the case of Doctor Who, the answer is quasi-scientific. Being the gigantic nerd that I am, I get quite a thrill listening to the Doctor ramble off the timey-wimey, spacey-wacey science behind the phenomenons he and his companions get into.
   
2. Nowadays media is riddled with violence and promiscuity. Doctor Who? Not so much.
   The Doctor is known for is resistance to violence. He doesn't shoot first. When faced with danger, he runs away and thinks of a brilliant plan. He gives his enemies a second chance, and they know him for his mercy. Furthermore, because Doctor Who was originally a children's show (and it still is, just a little creepier sometimes) it is squeaky clean. There are references and flirty bits sometimes, but it would fly over kid's heads.
3. He is a friend. The Doctor's relationships with other people mean the world to him, and he feels a sort of sacredness towards other people because (being a time traveler and all) he knows the fragility of life. When he takes on a companion, they are under his protection and he follows that to the letter. He shows them the wonders of the universe throughout the whole of time. If they land in trouble, he does what he can to protect everyone involved.
4. During my years as a homeschooled kid, my mom used a curriculum that brought fiction alongside our textbooks (i.e. historical fiction novels alongside our history textbooks). My brain learns by lining up fiction with the facts and using the former to understand the latter. Therefore, fiction stories and characters via metaphor or simple similarity make me connect the dots and come to a realization or better understanding about reality, especially about my faith. God reveals Himself to His children in many different ways, and to me it is through fiction. And in Doctor Who, there are overarching themes and small, little bits in almost every episode that make me go, "ah-ha!"
   Example A, the first quote and video of this post. When I heard the 11th Doctor say that he's "never met anyone who wasn't important before," I suddenly understood how God has, does, and will love everyone since the beginning of time. I can't fully explain it, but I get it know. I make connections and things just make sense.
5. Finally, this: The Lessons Doctor Who is Teaching my ASD Kid.

You may think I'm crazy for loving a simple British television show as much as I do. And that's okay. We have a support group.

If you are now intrigued and want to go watch an episode of Doctor Who I highly recommend "Vincent and the Doctor" in Season 5 of the latest series. If you want to take a further look without jumping over the edge and starting at Season 1, let me know and I'll give you a list.

So here's to 50 years. Here's to 11 Doctors, his TARDIS, his companions, the monsters, and the adventures through the whole of time and space.

 

Happy Birthday, Doctor Who.

In which The Friendliest Man In The World asks me The Best Question In The World

(*Disclaimer* The following topic is a vast, vast topic that I will certainly not be able to exhaust in one post. I left things out, and there are things I'm still mulling over. So expect future conversations on this beautiful matter.)

Via tumblr

On Monday I had the pleasure of meeting The Friendliest Man In The World.

He may just be The Friendliest Man In Kentucky, but we'll call him The Friendliest Man In The World.

When I say The Friendliest Man In The World, I should probably say The Most Intentionally Friendly Man In The World, but that's just too much for me to write.

Actually, I'm just going to call him Dr. Friendly.

So. Here's how it happened.

I was waiting on a order at a little café in the science building of my school (best food on campus). This gentleman had ordered his food before me--making the register lady laugh in the process, of course--and so he was waiting on his food as well. I was sitting on a bench facing the register, and he was sitting at a table in front of me to the left, my 10 o'clock position. I was checking my phone and avoiding eye contact with anyone like most stupid, media-addicted kids these days. He looked to be in his late 40s; he was a distinguished and tall African-American with a short afro that was greying at the temples. I didn't feel like making chitchat (mostly because I'm bad at it) and the situation didn't really require it. But he had other ideas.

Dr. Friendly: "What kind of shoes are those?"

Me: "Uh… Um… Brooks."

Dr.: "I mean are they for biking, hiking, sports…"

Me: "Oh! Running; they're lightweight."

Dr.: "Do they have the incline, or are they flat?"

Me: "Flat, it's kinda like barefoot running."

Dr.: "Yeah, yeah, I'm trying to switch over to that."

Me: "Yeah, it's pretty cool…"

Dr.: "So what's your story?"

Me: "My story?"
Dr.: "Yeah, what's your major, where're you from, you know."
Me: *explained where I'm from, my former major, and current major.* "What's your story?"

Dr.: *his food is ready so he gets that while explaining.* "My wife teaches occupational therapy and I'm here to guest lecture in her classes today, on ethics."

Me: "Oh, wow, that's really cool."

Dr.: Yeah, well, it was great talking with you. Say, what's your name?"

Me: "Rachel, and yours?"

Dr.: "(says his name, one I didn't quite catch and quickly forgot, unfortunately. He did say doctor, I’m pretty sure.) And by the way, I love your hair."

Me: (I have a pixie.) "Oh, thank you so much! Most men don't really like short hair."

Dr.: "Oh, I love it on you. And don't listen to them, it's some homophobic thing they've got going on."

Me: "Oh, really?! That's interesting."

Dr.: "Yeah, they think that short hair is too much like a guy's and that they shouldn't like it. But it's beautiful and you should keep it. I don't know what it looked like before---"

Me: "Oh, it was really long."

Dr.: "Yeah, and I don't know why you cut it, but it's you. It's totally you and you look great."

Me: *bubbling thanks* "Thank you!"

Dr.: Well, I gotta go, but it was great to meet you and when I see you on the street, I say hey 'Rachel from EKU' and we'll know each other."

Me: *laughing* "Sounds great, it was good to meet you to!"

(This wasn't quite a word-for-word, but you get the point.)

So, obviously I like the guy because he liked my hair and explained why men don't like short hair, a topic that has frustrated me previously. (The response was rather fascinating and makes a lot of sense, don't you think?)

But there was a lot more. He was deliberate in his conversation. Intentional. He may or may not have been all that interested in my shoes, because I felt like he asked that just to lead up to The Best Question In The World: What's your story?

The Friendliest Man In The World asked The Best Question In The World.

I'm all about stories. You will find that out. A lot of things in my life recently have revolved around that fact that we all have stories.

We are living stories who like to learn about other people's stories whether they are real or imaginary stories. Sometimes there are those of us who like read or watch fictional and fantastical stories that inspire our own. Sometimes we (sadly) don't like our own story so we do what we can to escape into other stories or end ours completely.

We all like to intertwine our stories with other peoples' stories. Sometimes our story could have been the same with or without another person's story. Sometimes our lives take a complete turn because of story interaction.

I don't know about you, but I like to people watch. A lot of the time I'll deduce and/or make up a portion of their story. (International airports like Atlanta are the best place to people watch, by the way.) Sometimes I'll be sitting somewhere like a coffee house or the library and really just want to ask the person sitting across the room 20 questions. What did they order or what are they reading? Why? Why did they choose that color shirt today? What's their favorite color and why? Who is the most important person in their life and why? Where are they from? What do they do for a living? Et cetera, et cetera.

In short: People and their stories are fascinating and so very, very important.

Googly images

In high school I took an elective course called Humanities from a Christian Perspective. One of the many things I took away from that class was the idea that each and every person was created in the image of God. There's an actual phrase for it, called imago dei. The definition of this Latin phrase "refers most fundamentally to two things: first, God's own self-actualization through humankind; and second, God's care for humankind." (Further explained here.) That changes the way you treat people. Until you forget, of course, or someone pisses you off. But in all seriousness, what would happen if we actually lived like everyone was created in the image of God, each living out their own story within His story? If we treated everyone, regardless of their life choices or circumstances, like they were created in the image of God living within His story, where would we be?

I suppose my point is this: take the time to learn other people's stories. One of the things I hate the most is when people think that me and my story are normal. I hate myself when I think that of others. When we take the time to share our stories with one another, we are showing that we care. When we are unable to share our story, the result is loneliness. I believe that we were designed to share our stories. Carl Jung (I don't care what you think about him) said this: "loneliness doesn't come from having no one around you, but from being unable to communicate the things that are important to you."

I'm generally hesitant to share my story or the current state of my story just because I am. But when someone gives me the chance, I feel so blessed. And when I say blessed, I mean fully alive, appreciated, and feeling like I can accomplish anything in the world.

That's how I felt after talking to Dr. Friendly. He took a brief amount of time to get to know the girl with the pixie waiting for her food, and changed everything about that Monday afternoon. He took a moment to really, actually care. I want to be able to do that for someone else at least once a week. Ask a question & learn their story.

What will happen when you ask The Best Question In The World?

 (Seriously. Ask it. I dare you to make something wonderful happen.)

"We're all stories in the end, just make it a good one, eh?"

P.S. I had the privilege of seeing these folks live. Watch The Autumn Film cover Coldplay.