in defense of diaries

"...and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you..."

How often do you pray for things you tell NO ONE about? Do you go to God with your secret dreams, anxieties, weaknesses? Do you go behind others' backs, or over their heads, asking Him to intervene where you can't? I do.

introverts

I'm away from reliable internet access for awhile, but I found this on someone else's blog and thought it was worth sharing! As an "INFJ," I completely relate to this and wish more people understood.

the perfect date

Before you go and have a myocardial infarction, don't worry, I have not been on a date. Not the kind you're thinking about, anyway.

But when I got up this morning, I got myself ready for a special day. I put on my favorite brown shorts, stuffed my laptop into my homemade brown messenger bag, slipped my toes into my brown sandals, and even did the unthinkable -- I curled my hair and put on lipstick. I'm wearing bracelets. It's that important.

I walked downtown to the coffee shop and sipped a pumpkin spice latte. I sat at a table for two and dug up some memories to write about. I sipped on an empty cup for two hours so the barista wouldn't think I was overstaying my welcome, if that's even possible in a coffee shop. Now here I am enjoying the most beautiful afternoon I've seen since last October, and I don't even care that the wind is blowing my curls all over the place. The tree behind me has enough yellow leaves to let me know I can expect more of these days, and off in the distance I can see the hazy blue outline of mountains, one of which I'll be standing on top of this weekend. I don't know about you, but there's just something about this time of year that makes me feel giddy. I'm sitting on a bench all by myself and I swear I think my stomach has that sick oh-my-gosh-this-can't-be-real feeling. I've only ever been on 2.5 dates in my life, and they had nothing on this. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that I endure the other nine or ten months of the year for the sake of this one season.

It's true, I'm in love... with autumn.

acceptance

I've been reading a little book called Loneliness, by Elisabeth Elliot, which I highly recommend (as it was highly recommended to me). She often quotes C.S. Lewis and Amy Carmichael, and in the chapter I read last night she printed a poem. In my reading time this morning, I found the following articles about Robertson McQuilkin, who resigned as a college/seminary president to care for his wife, and in one of the interviews he also quotes Carmichael. I thought it no coincidence that I should find this poem twice within 24 hours when I'd never heard of it before, so I've pasted it at the bottom along with links to the McQuilkin interviews.

This is why I live in TN.

This picture does no justice to the view from the top of The Chimneys.

Sunset over the Great Smoky Mountains

your weekend

Another list for you. (Sorry, I know I haven't been blogging very creatively, but it's the simple things that have really been bringing me joy lately!) So I want you to make sure you make time for some things this weekend, ok?

Coffee should not come from a paper cup. Pour yourself some fresh, home-brewed java (or hot drink of your choice) and sit very still with the warm cup between your hands. Gaze into it, ponder, breathe.

Journals should not be replaced by blogs! There is no substitute for seeing your most private thoughts and feelings in ink. Use your favorite pen (mine is a purple RSVP); your journal is worth it.

Words are powerful. "Many a truth is said in jest," right? So why not skip the jest and make it clear that you're not kidding? Give someone a compliment, and say it like you mean it.

Get out of the house. Even if it's raining, like it will be here... That's what umbrellas are for. You won't melt if you get a little sprinkled. Go for a walk.

Do something you're good at. Maybe you're only good at drawing stick figures or plunking out a melody line or folding your shirts exactly the right way so they fit perfectly in the drawer. Do it and enjoy it!

Eating is not a standing activity. In Japan, you get to lay on the floor! I ate far too many meals off my kitchen counter this week, right before I rushed out the door. Try sitting at the table, or on your sofa, or front porch. It doesn't matter where, as long as you use a fork (or chopsticks) and you're not on your feet.

Laughter is the best medicine, so take a good dose. I was having a rough day Tuesday, but then something funny happened and once I got started, I couldn't stop laughing. Day improved 100%. Let it out! Do whatever it takes to get a good chuckle! (If you're like me, you have to laugh at your jokes because nobody else does.)

Jesus wants to hear from you. Tell Him anything and everything. Trust me, I'm not being cheesy here. I'm telling you seriously that God likes it when you tell Him how much you love acoustic music, when you thank Him specifically for whatever you're eating, for dogwood blooms, for anything. Ask Him when He's going to send "the one" along, and confess that you really don't get along with that lady you work with. He already knows, anyway, and if you can't be yourself with Him, when can you? If you don't do anything else this weekend, do this. Talk, really talk, with God.

Try it!

Holy Fire

This morning I sat down on the sofa to spend some time with my Father, decidedly turning away from social networking (and since when did that become such a cold, technological, impersonal term?) I had just come from class and a returned test with a hallelujah-worthy B, and I needed to stop into work to check the schedule, but just walking in the door takes an act of my will -- come to think of it, almost everything is an act of my will these days. I needed to eat some daily Bread before I did anything else. I needed quality time.

questions & answers

(circa 1am)

Q: Where does a single 20-something spend her paycheck?
A: grocery store, gas pump, laundromat, farmer's market, Sonic happy hour, cable TV/internet

Q: Where does a grown-up find friends?
A: EVERYWHERE! loose the chains that bind you!

Q: Who are a graduate student's friends?
A: classmates, coworkers, elderly women, young children, customers who frequent your place of employment, anyone who breathes and doesn't mention Chaucer (because he's SO last degree program -- if the Duchess is reading this, don't worry, I'm kidding! sort of.)

Q: Tell us about having company in your home.
A: First of all, I make sure all misplaced items look like they know where they belong. Then I sweep the floor, ensure that the toilet paper isn't empty, and finish by washing a few of the dishes in the sink and setting them out to dry. In the meantime, a scented candle is burning to cover the smell of stir-fry from last night. When the guests arrive, I welcome them into my clean and cozy home and warmly receive their complements on the ambient lighting. We engage in friendly conversation over coffee and midterm study guides.

Q: What's it like not having a roommate?
A: quiet evenings alone with a book, scented candles, and a warm cup of herbal tea -OR- afternoons eavesdropping on the neighbors while draping half-dried laundry from the doors, curtain rods, countertops, etc. with the door open and fans turned on high -OR- early mornings running madly through the apartment looking for matching items of clothing while choking down a cold pop-tart and being as loud as possible

Q: Do you use your kitchen daily?
A: No. I get free meals when I'm on the clock. However, I make up for missed days by cooking two-hour bowls of stir-fry and baking all-afternoon loaves of zucchini bread. One day I'll be a speed chef.

Q: Do you spontaneously combust and/or dance?
A: I'm training to become a cage-fighter. Does that answer your question?

Q: When one lights a jar candle, it melts (of course). Over time the amount of wax in the jar diminishes noticeably. Where does the wax go?
A:

walking

      I choose to go on foot, "pe jos" as they would say in Romania. I make my way down the street, farther and farther from home, and approach an intersection. Stepping into the crosswalk I consider that someone expected me -- not me personally, with my name and the thoughts and intricacies and vocal inflections by which I am recognized, but me the pedestrian. I am not cut off like those in heavy metal cases that move along in solitude, nor am I protected by their doors and windows, but by a sign commanding them to allow me passage. And so I parade across the street, feeling not a little privileged, but still jogging a bit as if to say "Pardon me, I'll just be getting out of your way." I step up onto the sidewalk, back onto my pedestal. I proceed to observe the world at eye level.

panic NOW

Graduation was hard enough...

Summer School

    It's a lovely Sunday afternoon, and I'm sitting on my bed eating a Banquet chicken pot pie and enjoying the Mel Brooks marathon on AMC. My clothes are in the dryer, the AC is on, and in the background  I hear the pleasant hum of a microwave. *BEEP* My roommate pulls out her steaming, tasty-smelling, no-longer-frozen dinner. The cafeteria is closed every weekend. Dinner tonight: your choice of a hot pocket or peanut butter sandwich.
    Yes, friends, this is it -- summer school. This summer I am completing my college experience by doing some things I've never done before. First of all, I'm on campus. Secondly, I'm taking a professor most people don't like. So far, so good! Each day consists of much sleep, much facebook, people watching (camper watching) in the cafeteria, and possibly a trip to the gym. I usually work in a bowl of cereal somewhere.
      This may sound pretty boring, and honestly it is, but I'm trying to appreciate the quiet. I must admit it's strange seeing the places I spent my past four years, but without the most of the friendly faces I grew to love. But I like to think of it as a little something different, almost like being somewhere new. After all, this campus is nothing like it was a little over a month ago. I'm in a different dorm, and in this first week I've already made some new friends -- friends like the swimming pool, the microwave, and the weight room. And that professor? She's hilarious. I guess some things are all about perspective.

Sunday Afternoon

      There is nothing like a Sunday afternoon nap on the couch after a big, greasy lunch from your local truckstop diner. These are the things I miss about home -- the excitement of seeing "country fried steak" on the daily special menu, the sunset the way it looks from our living room, the puppy licking my hand to let me know I'm the only one in the house still asleep... even the smell of horses and chickens (and donkey) and the nasty scratches on my legs because my dog is happy to see me. There is nothing like a few weeks at home after a long, stressful year filled with too much work and many good times, and not enough chances to breathe it all in before it suddenly and finally came to an end.

Rima IV

No digais que agotado su tesoro,
De asuntos falta, enmudecio la lira;
Podra no haber poetas; pero siempre
Habra poesia.

learning about me

Sometimes learning about myself can be fun. For example, finding that I am capable of riding my bicycle with one hand on the handlebar and one holding a cup of coffee. That was a life-altering and exhilarating discovery. I'll never forget the day I discovered onions, when I learned to like asparagus, when I came to grips with my frizzy hair...

the night I realized that I'm a stick in the mud.