Peace & Peace

It's been nearly a month since my last post because I've been gallivanting around the country on a whirlwind of summer fun that is not yet quite over. I've been to the flooded north woods of Wisconsin (at least they were when I was there), and I've just returned from the great beauty of the Colorado wilderness (although actual wildlife sightings were somewhat rare). And I have really loved *almost* every minute of the generally quite peaceful journey. There were, admittedly, a few times that I found myself slipping back into a wound-tight-like-in-the-real-world attitude, but I did my best to break free of the confines of the rush and run to just enjoy being for a while. Overall, it was just a wonderful time. A time that I truly felt bathing, swimming, submerged completely in love. God's love. Family's love. Friends' love. What a peace.

But the one thing, ironic as it may be, that everyone says after returning from vacation, is that it's so very good to be home. There's generally no, Let's stay for three more weeks! No. There's a different kind of peace, separate from the vacation kind, that one finds upon their return to what they left behind. And although my garden, flower beds, yard, dust, dishes, and laundry all cry out for my attention, there still remains a feeling of peace. God made the whole world for me to explore and enjoy, to clamour upon and run around, to try to capture in photos and memories, but this...This here, he set aside just for me. It's the place that I get to call my home. And I so grateful for the blessing of it, the sight of it, the comfort of it.

Anticipation

There are times in life when everything happens at once, when you're overwhelmed and can't think much beyond each single current moment. There are times in life when almost nothing happens, when you can take a deep breath. And then there are special times when you know something is about to happen, something big or exciting or fun. Anticipation. 

With the quick approach of summer vacation; a face-to-face meeting of an overseas friend; the blooming of the vegetable garden, grapes, and the apple tree, it seems that I'm living in a state of anticipation in every aspect of my life. It's such a neat feeling that leaves me not wishing life away but eager to know what lies ahead. I'm excited, preparing so that I'm ready, sharing my excitement with others, talking about what lies ahead in my life. I'm keeping the weeds down in the garden, watching for bugs on my plants, making packing lists, purchasing supplies...

And lately, I can't help but think that this is the state we're supposed to be living our lives in all the time. The writers of the Bible wrote about living in a state of readiness for Jesus' return to earth. Two thousand years ago, people where anticipating His return. They were excited, ready, talking about it. Have we lost our anticipation for Jesus? Have we replaced it with our anticipation with much less significant things?

Summer is good. It's very good. How much greater is heaven going to be? Now that's anticipation.

Open Windows

Although it's felt like summer for quite some time around here, I've hesitated to open up all of the windows in the house. I've opened a few - the front porch, the kitchen, the bedroom sky lights, but I have not brought myself to cranking them all wide open. Why, you ask? Well, frankly, the only reason why I wouldn't open up all my windows is that opening them, compels me to clean them...the dirty, webby sills at least. That place that's been all shut up for six months or so and inevitably has become home to some ferocious creature that is only doing a mediocre job at controlling the population of gnats sneaking through the screens anyway. Stupid spiders. 

Well, tonight, desperate to cool my nearly hundred year old second floor bedrooms to a tolerable sleeping temperature, I finally decided enough was enough. Those spiders could not keep my desires for fresh air and peaceful sleep at bay any longer. I opened, I sucked, I wiped, I breathed deep. Why...sigh...didn't I...sigh...do that sooner...sigh...

There is just something wonderful about the feeling of having the windows wide, isn't there? It's freeing. To both the six-months-sealed funk that grows into a house throughout the winter months and to my out-door craving spirit who would probably sleep outside all summer if not for the aforementioned spiders. And bats. And...well, you get the idea. I still love the outdoors.

It just leaves me praising God for the gift of air. And praying that it doesn't rain at least until I wake up in the morning.

Reconciliation

The fallout. Something that men don't necessarily deal with in relationships. But most women have experienced this at least a time or two from their closest circle of friends. Something happens, and it forever changes the course of the relationship.

I, myself, have had relationships that have gone through their fair share of fallouts. With each fallout disaster, I usually tried with all my might to fix whatever was wrong with the relationship, to save it, restore it as if nothing had happened. In my mind, the only two options were to fix it or walk away from it completely. But fairly recently, I ended up landing somewhere in between these two options, not knowing anymore how to fix it and desperately not wanting to walk away but knowing that the relationship would never be quite the same. What am I supposed to do here in the middle?

The conclusion I've come to is that I must reconcile this relationship. I cannot live in limbo anymore. Miriam-Webster defines the word reconcile as follows:

1 a : to restore to friendship or harmony; b : settle, resolve
2 : to make consistent or congruous

3 : to cause to submit to or accept something unpleasant

4 a : to check (a financial account) against another for accuracy b : to account for 

The varied definitions of this word seem strange to me...restore, resolve, settle, accept, consistent, account for... Do these ideas even all go together? But in pondering this further, I realize that I need all the different definitions to really make reconciliation work.

I need to restore both friendship and harmony, for both parties involved, but in order to do that, I need to resolve some of the issues in my own heart that may have contributed to the fallout. I need to settle the differences between us in my own heart rather than wrestle with them in the space between us. In resolving this to myself, I then need to strive for consistency - strike a middle ground rather than living on the roller coaster of ups and downs. How nice to be able to enjoy one another consistently when I have settled my heart and can accept another's.

Doing all of this will require me to accept what has happened in the past for what it was...not to fix or change or ignore or fight these things - just accept them, unpleasantries and all. It was what it was, but it was, not is. That chapter is over, and I can accept it as over and okay. And, I do need to take account for my future actions, perhaps even find a way to be held accountable. How will my actions and attitudes continue to effect relationships in the future?

I must reconcile past fallouts in my own heart in order to reconcile them with others. Things may not be "fixed" or exactly the same as they once where, but that doesn't mean that things can't still be good. 

Thoughts on Being Bold

I recently had an interesting conversation with someone about the idea of being bold in approaching relationships. Our reflections were honest and from our own perspectives and experiences. 

The determination we ultimately came to was that women have been conditioned to react more boldly than perhaps we were created to react when it comes to relationships. Women initiate contact, make the "first move," call guys first, etc. How did we get this way? I would argue, and please don't interpret this as any sort of male-bashing session, that women have been conditioned to be bold, dare I say aggressive, when it comes to relationships because many men opt not to be. They choose, or perhaps are conditioned, to be reserved, passive, chased after, shy.

Both men and women know, can feel, that this situation, this role reversal is just not how God intended is to be. Despite good intentions, it always feels awkward to me to have to make the first move. But I feel it necessary most of the time to even be able to talk with someone of the opposite sex. And maybe it feels the same to men that are approached by women. 

And it's not like it's a big hidden secret how God created men and women. It's pretty clearly spelled out for us in the Bible. God intended men to lead, support, guide their mates...love them like Christ loves the church. And women are to submit, yes ladies, I said submit, to their mates knowing that they are going to be treated as the church by Christ. We know what this is to look like. 

Satan has really done a number on these roles, hasn't he? He's made women to think they should act like men and given men permission to act like women. As I continue to battle through the ideas of singleness, dating, relationships, and marriage in my own life, I'm realizing that I'm working in an imperfect system that is not going to change for me. But I'm also realizing that despite the imperfect system, I still follow a perfect God. So, I don't have to worry. God has given me a heart that yearns after the role set for me. And there is a man out there whose heart yearns for the same. And it is not my personal duty to systematically dig through the proverbial haystack to, by an endless process of elimination, to find my needle. God has known my name since before I was even an idea in my parents' heads, knows the number of hairs on my head. I don't have to find my mate by myself. 

The imperfect system will continue to drive me to desire to be bolder than my heart was made to be, but I will continue to learn to trust my Maker who has always known my bold, brave, loving husband.

Summer Routine

Well, it's officially summer around here. Students are home safe and sound. The office is quiet, or at least filled only with the self-selected noise of internet radio stations blaring...which is way better than four televisions, a fast food restaurant, a hundred or so student voices, etc.

And with the arrival of summer comes the arrival of a shift in routine. A new kind of normal settles in.

Sleep in a bit. Work some. Play. Cook. Clean up. Drag out the hoses. Roll up the hoses. Trim. Mow. Play. Laugh. Relax a while. Try a new thing or two. Travel. Play.

This varied routine (as compared with the school year routine: Work. Sleep. Work.) offers a huge realm of possibilities. All exciting and different and fun.

Last year at about this time, I discovered, for the first time ever, what summer for the "average American" is supposed to be like. And I fell in love with every aspect of it. Now, coming at summer with a whole new perspective allows me to plan for loving it. And that is so very exciting.

So, cheers to summer, adventure, and a new and fabulous routine!

Quite the Catch

Dear Men of the World,

My name is Lindsey, and I wanted to take a moment to introduce myself. Perhaps we've met before, and perhaps we haven't, but it seems that we haven't been able to become really well acquainted for one reason or another.

I'm adventurous. I mean really adventurous. I like to hike in the mountains, go camping, ride bikes, swim in lakes... I've been known to jump off of water falls, scale 14,000-foot peaks, and do spontaneous things just because I can. I can kill a good ropes coarse (including the high ropes stuff), and I'm not afraid to try new things. You like adventure, too, don't you?

I like to cook. For you, this would be a huge plus if, say, you don't. I experiment fearlessly in the kitchen with soups, sauces, international dishes, and timeless recipes. I make my own granola. I make my mom's lasagna. I wear an apron. I'm not afraid of Julia Child's French recipes. That is some serious cooking.

I am a good kind of weird. You know that kind of weird that makes you linger in a conversation just to see what a person will say next? That kind of weird. I do things people my age don't usually do - garden, cook, bake, write, sing... I've been called an "old soul", an "eclectic individual", a "Renaissance woman". I love those titles, and I wear them like badges of honor. Maybe you're a bit weird. I would be okay with that. I would appreciate your weird for what it is. But let's put a qualifier in there - if you're just plain weird as opposed to just a bit of the good kind of weird, then please steer clear. I've had my fair share of real weird, and I'm over it.

I love God like I love nothing else. I sing praises at the top of my lungs whenever the Spirit moves them to come out. If God's not your center, make Him be. He could be our center. He needs to be our center.

To be up front, I am not a good girlfriend, but I want to be. I work too much, move too slow, have been independent too long. I need patience - from people and for people. I don't follow the "play book" well, and if you don't either, then, well, we can struggle through together. It makes it more interesting that way anyway.

I have been waiting for Mr. Right for a good long time now. In fact, I've been praying for him for quite some time, and his family, and our future... Mr. Right, if you are one of the men of the world, please come and find me. Seek me out. Pray for me. And be a good kind of weird with me so we can earn sweet titles together. Men of the world, please be bold, and I will be, too. And one day, you will meet up with me, and it will be exactly as it's supposed to be.

I'm quite the catch, if I do say so myself. You could really end up liking me a lot.

Sincerely Yours,
Lindsey

Legacy

"Sometimes it just seems like people work and work and work somewhere, and then they leave. And nobody remembers them. We all just keep moving on like we always have. It makes me wonder why we all work so darn hard."

This is a quote from a woman that I meet regularly with in a prayer group at work. I don't now recall how it even came up, but we were discussing the idea of leaving a legacy. It's been months since this conversation, but her words still haunt me. And the part that haunts me the most is that from her perspective, she was completely right. To build a legacy at a particular place for people to remember you for your good works is completely pointless. People will forget you. Eventually, your memory on this earth will be gone. Work as I may, my work will eventually be changed by someone else, students will graduate, staff and faculty will move on, and I will be forgotten. 

But perhaps we need to view the idea of legacy from a different vantage point. What if we stop working to be remembered by men? What if we did our work for the glory of God? To build God's legacy? It gives reason to work so hard - to pour my heart into the work I do. When I'm gone, all I want is the glow of God's light left in my place. And even when my personal legacy fades into time, God's legacy will live on. That's what I work for.

Unbelief

Despite my best efforts, I cannot recall what "unbelief" feels like. I can't remember my life before Jesus, the time before I knew hope.

This semester, I had a student in the class I taught that believes in nothing beyond the happiness of any given moment. Nothing. No guidance. No example of true love. No hope for what happens next. Nothing. He spent much of the semester adamantly stating his beliefs in nothing, anchoring them in the naivety of religion, the foolishness of allowing something else to determine the path of life. And it was in reading this student's work that I found myself asking questions that his belief in nothing could not explain.

Where did love come from? Granted, many of our human emotions cannot be given an origin, but I cannot imagine understanding love without God's love. We (humans) screwed up God's beautiful place with dark, ugly sin. He could have walked away. He could have left us to our failed selves, to self destruct. But instead He chose to send Jesus, His Son, His Love and rescue us. Without that, how could we know love?

Where is hope found? Family? Friends? Although there is great refuge in these relationships, they bear with them the burden of human nature. They are not perfect. They are not eternal. Stuff? Certainly little explaining is required to know that material possessions cannot sustain and frequently disappoint. The reliability of my own heart or mind? Ha. I don't have near enough faith to place my hope in the stability and strength of myself. What happens when real hope is needed - in moments of desperation? Times where certainty is not just shaky but completely gone? Is there no hope in life at all for the unbelieving? And if there is no hope, how does one force themselves out of bed in the morning knowing that desperation may be the only result of getting up?

These questions and so many more... Never has unbelief so undeniably solidified my belief. And if this makes me a fool or naive, then I'll live life as a fool.

My First "Sermon"

Earlier this semester, I was asked by the campus chaplain to, for lack of better terms, "preach" a "sermon" for campus chapel. The topic of the ongoing series that he asked me to speak on was dating and relationships. I'm finally getting around to sharing it with you. Enjoy!

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So, when Jim asked me if I’d like to share in chapel the “women’s perspective” for the dating and relationships series, I was intrigued. You really want to ask me? As a perpetually single twenty-something year-old woman who’s struggled on and off with the ideas of relationships and marriage since I can remember, I’m just not sure that I’d be my first choice. And bouncing around topics was a fun game because, well, I couldn’t really talk about roles of a husbands and wives in marriage since I’ve never been married, and I couldn’t really talk about how to approach a long-term or serious relationship since I’ve never really been in one. What in the world am I going to talk about regarding relationships and dating? Well, how about the heart.

Now, just as a disclaimer before we get started, this talk is probably going to be primarily geared toward the young women today. Guys, that’s not to say that this isn’t good stuff for you to hear, so don’t take off on me, but just know that I’m usually in conversation with women when things like this come up.

So, let’s get to it, let’s talk about your heart. You know it as that place that flutters when you see someone you like or love, that thing that can shatter like glass when you’ve been disappointed. Your heart is central to who you are and how you operate. And God created us this way, with hearts that are important to Him and are the core of our very being. And because of this, we’re called to guard them closely. Proverbs 4:23 says, Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life. 

But what does that even mean? What is it that we’re guarding our hearts from? How are we supposed to guard them and to what end? Are the rules for this heart-guarding?

Well, since this series is about relationships…when you enter into a relationship, be it romantic or otherwise, you begin to share pieces of your heart with another person. It usually starts small as you navigate the unsure path of new relationships, sharing a personal detail here and there, exposing something about yourself every now and then. But it doesn’t take long, and you’re sharing more personal things, becoming more exposed, all the while sharing bigger pieces of your heart with others.

Sharing personal and emotional details of our lives with another person is not in and of itself necessarily a bad thing, but sharing these things too soon after beginning a relationship is one way that we often neglect to guard our hearts. And for women, in particular, this is really easy to do, if for no other reason than we really like to talk. We talk when we’re nervous. We talk when we’re happy. We talk when we’re upset, frustrated, excited. For many of us, it is very easy to share about our lives, but the mistake we often make is entrusting huge pieces of our hearts to anyone and everyone who will listen. And there is a danger in doing this because, frankly, not everyone can be trusted.

And although God is the true keeper of your heart, the one who can make it whole over and over again no matter how many pieces you throw out there, the pieces of your heart that you share with others never can be taken back. They’re out there, just like a photo on the internet or a status on facebook, forever. The more pieces that you give away, the more people have a piece of your heart just floating around out there. Can you imagine saying to your significant other or your new spouse on your wedding day, I really want to give you my whole heart. Just so you know, I’ve given pieces of it away to 27 other people, but now you can have it too. How would you feel knowing that your girlfriend or boyfriend or husband or wife had little pieces of themselves floating around out there with so many other people? If you decide to enter into a life-long marriage with another person, it’s because you want to share their heart, just you and them. Not you, them, and 27 other people.

And there’s another way that we often fail to guard our hearts, by neglecting to include God’s desires for our relationships into our plans altogether. We have to remember that God has a good and beautiful plan for relationships, but sometimes our own desires, intentions, and priorities get relationships all jumbled up and they end up far from God’s intents. God gives us great examples in the Bible of how relationships should be designed. Ephesians 5, which we don’t have time to dig into today, is filled with wonderful imagery of modeling our relationships after how Christ loves the church, a selfless, patient, gentle relationship. If we are not seeking God’s heart and this plan in our relationships first and foremost, then we are not guarding our own hearts or the hearts of those we are in relationship with. Relationships look less and less like Christ loving the church.

And what’s one of the biggest dangers that can creep in when we are not guarding our hearts? Lust. Now, I must confess that lust was not even on the original potential topic list of things I wanted to talk about today, but it is something that cannot be ignored. So what is it? Where does it start? You know that second glance you just gave that attractive individual that just pasted by? That flirtatious grin you send to someone across the room? That’s where it can start. As simple as that. And it builds from there, into thoughts of desire that may have nothing to do with building a God-centered relationship. Thoughts of physical contact, wanting to share extremely personal details, finding ways to be near or involved with someone, or even desiring that someone may develop these types of feelings for you...

The Bible warns us against the dangers of lust, and there’s not much dancing around the issue either. Matthew 5:28 says, But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. Woah. Why such strong words of warning about this? Lust is a tricky, sneaky sin that finds its way into unsuspecting hearts. What starts out innocent enough can quickly become corrupt. Boundaries of personal commitments and decisions get quietly pushed farther and farther from where you wanted them to be. And you can end up way off track from God’s intentions for how relationships should be built. We must guard our hearts from the dangers of lust by keeping God at the center of our intentions.

Look, the truth is that I can’t, despite my best efforts, give you a list of dos and don’ts, the proverbial rule book, for how to avoid lust or even how best to guard your heart. I can’t tell you exactly how to protect yourself from getting hurt or from hurting others, when you can start sharing more of your life with another person, or even specifically what guarding your heart may look like on a day-to-day basis. And believe me, I wish I could. There are so many days that I’ve asked myself why the world of dating and relationships isn’t more black and white, but it’s not. It’s grey and messy and confusing. But it is especially convoluted when you try to go it alone, without God’s input. God wants to work with us, so He’s not going to just hand us all the answers. Here you go. How to guard your heart and avoid lust in ten easy steps. Not going to happen. But God does desire for us to work with Him, for us to seek Him out, in order to figure it all out.

Okay, now I want to make the not-to-distant leap from guarding your heart to the topic of modesty. I can already see some of you tensing up in your seats, looking for the nearest exit. Modesty is one of those words that elicits ideas of nuns dressed in their habits or middle eastern women covered from head to toe in draping tents, one piece swim suites, and, well, the entire Duggar family for those of you who watch TLC. Ugh… nobody wants to talk about that. Nobody even think about that. It’s completely counter-cultural to want to cover up. But that’s exactly the point.

Our society paints a picture of fashion trends and the norm of how to dress that is, well, fake. Ads in magazines, larger-than-life billboards and bus panels, tv, movies…all of it is feeding us the same ideas of “normal” that none of us can live up to because it’s not real. What you see in magazines and on tv is nothing more than extraordinary PhotoShop and fine-grain editing. By the time images get to our eyes, they’re no longer even human.

These are the images we see every day, that we strive to live up to because it’s what society calls “normal”. More leg, lower cuts, bigger muscles, tighter everything. Do you understand what all of this does to us? It turns our bodies, that we know are created in the image of God, into nothing more than objects modeled after a false reality. How do I know we were created in the image of God? At the very beginning of the story, in the story of God creating the world, the first chapter of Genesis says that God created the earth, water, sky, and land, night and day, and it was good. He created plants, trees, fish, birds, and animals of all kinds, and it was good. And then in Genesis 1:27 it says, So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. And it goes on to say that it was very good. How dare we take bodies, modeled after God Himself, and choose to model them after the world’s idea of proper image instead.

And there’s one other thing about modesty that I want to point out, that will hopefully bring my few minutes with you full circle. If we’re truly interested in guarding and protecting our hearts, then not only should the protection of our own hearts be important to us, but the protection of others’ hearts should also hold value. By choosing to dress in a modest manner, you’re actually helping those around you in protecting their hearts. By dressing in a way that doesn’t provoke looks of desire and lust your direction, you’re sheltering hearts, both others’ and your own.

And not only that, when you strip away all the flashy, tight, distracting clothing, what people are then able to see is God’s presence in our lives. 1 Timothy 2:9-10 says, I also want women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God. When people look at you, they shouldn’t first view your clothing and think, Wow, what’s he wearing? Or Why all the leg? They should be able to look at you and see the observable Christian lifestyle of good deeds as an expression of our faith in Christ.

Now again, there’s no written rule book here. What’s too tight, too short, too low, too exposed, too flashy? What’s appropriate or inappropriate to wear? I don’t know that I can define that. And does this mean we all should just wear gray tents so as to fade into the background? I don’t think that has so much to do with God’s image either. All I can say is that you’ve got to seek God for those answers.

So, out of all of this, if I had to give you just a few words to walk out of here remembering it would be to guard your heart…guard your heart from being too exposed, from neglecting God’s intentions for relationships, and from lustful thoughts and actions that can so easily slip in. Remember that God made you in His beautiful image and that the world’s expectations of you are plastic and fake. And although there’s no rule book, God wants to work with us to establish proper ideas of relationships and how we should live out our lives. Seeking Him out is the only way we can begin to establish those rules for ourselves. Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.

Forgetful

A week or so ago, my mom called to say that they'd be heading to Maquoketa to see some play that she really wasn't all that excited about going to with some friends that they don't really hang out with all that much on Sunday. I had said something to the effect of, Oh, you'll be close to Dubuque. I'll be home all day, feel free to swing by.

I went about life as normal for the rest of the week.

Sunday came, and I went to church, went to Megan's, then came home and dove into weeding the flowerbeds and spraying down my produce in the yard. I went in the house once and heard my phone beeping that I had missed a call. Hmmm...wonder who's call I missed? Oh well, back out to the garden. Less than an hour later, I heard a familiar voice calling me from the front yard. My dad.

I'm not sure what my face looked like when I turned around, but I would imagine one would have a similar look when given a horrible gift from a dear friend or when you are gazing at an ugly baby for the first time. You know. That look that you use a big awkward smile to disguise whatever may be going on underneath.

What was going on underneath: 1) I totally forgot that I mentioned they should stop by, 2) my house! I had baked up a storm yesterday and hadn't cleaned up the kitchen at all, not at all. It was laundry day, so my bedroom was looking like a hurricane had recently passed through, complete with the bed unmade and dust a half inch thick. And the bathroom - toothpaste in the sink, hair on the floor, shower wide open and filled with grime. Okay, think. Think! How are you going to fix this?

Deep breath...Would you like to come in? (There's that expression back on my face...)

Followed by, Please excuse my kitchen. I've been baking. And, I'm just going to go upstairs and wash up quick. (Flurry of wiping, grabbing, closing, piling...)

They ended up only staying for about ten minutes in all, just long enough to melt me into a puddle of humiliation, and they were on their way. I went back in the house to get a more objective look at what exactly my unexpected guests had seen. Counters were now wiped and not so bad. Bedroom stayed closed. No harm done there. And then there was the bathroom. Why does the bathroom look different? Well, it looked different because when my mom went up to use it, she finished the wiping and picking up that I had left behind. (I burst into tears right about now...)

Had it just been some family friends stopping by, I'm not sure I would have been so embarrassed. I would have laughed it off much easier. But my mom was there. And she was embarrassed. And she cleaned some things up so her friends didn't have to bear witness to my mishap. And that made me embarrassed. Very embarrassed.

She's always been so good at keeping house, a fact that bothered me greatly as a kid because messes (which I would argue are 90% of a child's life) were the enemy and needed to be fought off immediately. Our house was always ready for visitors, always shiny, always pristine. Even when we moved from one house to another, I don't remember a mess. Even while remodeling, no mess.

For me, every day is a mess. I did not receive whatever gift (or curse) of cleanliness that she did. If you put us head to head on the clean-o-meter, my house at its cleanest can't even compare to her's at its durtiest. And to make it worse, I actually enjoy a clean house when I do finally get it there. It's not that I don't like it. I'm just not all that good at it.

Okay, conclusion before this get's too long for anyone to desire to read... I love my mom, but I am not my mom. She will always be better at being clean than me. We were both embarrassed on Sunday. We'll both get over it. My priorities and day-to-day look different than her's. My home looks different than her's. And that's got to be okay. It's just got to be okay.

So, Mom (since I know you're reading this), I'm sorry that my house was a mess. You'll get over it. I'll get over it. I love you.

The Accidental First Date

For those of your following along on Facebook or Twitter, you may have noticed a weekend full of activity (a rare sight in my life for sure). Friday night, I managed to accidentally work my way into a first date which turned out to be pretty fun.

It seems to have become a campus-wide project to set Lindsey up with eligible young men, partially based on the good nature of a close community, and partially at my own prompting. Everyone can see that my social life is limited, but I am surrounded by a great family that knows me well and may actually have social lives. So, permission has been granted to several friends to go ahead and make something happen if the situation arises.

And the situation did indeed arise.

Gail, a wonderful professor on campus, about a month ago, got the great idea that one of her long time advisees and students, Matt, would be a great match for me. She asked for my number to give to him, and she followed through by giving it to him. Weeks went by, and he never called. To his credit, what in the world does one say when calling someone they've never met before for the first time?

At some point, my friend Janet, another wonderful professor on campus, had jumped on the band wagon and was all about the possibilities of setting us up. And on Friday, she called my cell phone out of the blue around 6:30 pm. I was (of course) still at the office.

What are you doing?
Right now?
Yeah, what are you doing? You should come down to the MBA reception downtown. (Giggles.)
Why? What's going on?
Matt's here, and he really wants to meet you!

Um...no thanks? I don't think that a public display of awkwardness is on the menu tonight. But what other excuse do I have? I'm headed home to watch movies for the night on the couch. (Sigh.) Okay. Okay, I'm going. What's the worst thing that could possibly happen?

So, I went, and was swooped up at the door like prey in eagles talons. No escape now. Janet dropped me off right in front of Matt. Matt, Lindsey. Lindsey, Matt. Okay, we're going to get out here. (Poof.) Gone.

Imagine now, two complete strangers, standing alone in the middle of a crowded room, having just met ten seconds ago, completely alone but being watched from all angles.

Well, it didn't end all bad. We ended up talking for a few hours, and we had some things in common. As far as first dates go, I've had much much worse, so I suppose it was successful...although certainly quite accidental.

Embrace It or Fight It

Last night, at the Founders' Day Ball, I got a chance to chat up the University President and his wife (always a good idea, as far as I can tell). We discussed a lot of things, but we talked at length about the cyclical nature of higher education. There are times that we just know are going to be killer. Others are traditionally slow. And in my area of higher education, I am certainly no exception.

And Jeff gave me a bit of wisdom that has probably come from ten or so years of rough-edged experience. He said, I suppose you either can embrace it, or spend all your time fighting it. And it's so true. We know that there are going to be extremely busy and stressful times that will require us to stretch just about beyond our means, to the very thinnest we can be pulled. And we can be sure that the slow times will follow full with rest and relaxation. If these things are so certain, then why do we find ourselves whining and complaining when we are in the state of thin? And how can we take for granted the ease of the off-times?

I can try my best to push deadlines back earlier or move projects around on the calendar all I want, but the fact of the matter is the hard, full, busy times are still going to exist, and the slow, restful times will indeed follow. 

I really feel that in the last two years, I have embraced the pattern, although not perfectly by any means. But weeks like list last one (Spring Fling Week) become easier when you can look ahead and see what lies ahead (rest). Although weary, I look ahead with hope...

Strangely, this becomes a metaphor for much more than just my work life. Matt. 11:28 says Come to me all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. The Message paraphrases it this way in verses 28-30:

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.

So, life really, is of the same cyclical nature.There are times that are going to be hard. We will be weary. We will get worn out. But we know - we know for sure - that there will be rest in Jesus. We can find some rest now in the cycle of living on earth, but there is something much greater, worth getting through the rough and busy that all becomes worth it when we get to the rest. 

Who knew I could get all of that from a conversation with the president at a dance on a Saturday night?

"Doing Church"

Throughout the last semester or so, I've been participating in the gospel choir on campus, an experience that undoubtedly deserves its own post. But there's one thing that I haven't quite figured out how to get past. There's an idea in gospel choir culture called "doing church". A revved up song begins and you can hear someone in the choir say, We're going to show you how to do church today! The enthusiasm is great, but the theology is all wrong.

You see, God doesn't call us to "do church". He calls us to be the church. "Doing church" indicates that it can be something that is started and stopped, picked up and dropped off; it's the idea that church is an action to be done rather than something to be a part of like a finger is a part of a body.

And frankly, I feel like this idea is perpetuated outside of the "church" experience as well. I see students all the time that come to gospel choir rehearsals, pray aloud while holding hands (and twice a rehearsal, mind you), then walk out the doors and immediately say a nasty word to someone, remove one too many articles of clothing, curse like sailors, or cop an attitude. And I suppose, if your idea of church involves the idea of "doing church" then after church has been "done", it can be turned off or left in that room, and life can resume as if nothing ever happened. For those that "do church", it seems that God can only live where church is "done".

But, oh, how visibly He does live there, where church is "done". More than once in any given rehearsal, I can hear someone say, Whew...I feel the Spirit, or, The Spirit is movin' here today, or something to that affect. Peoples' bodies move, their voices escalate, songs grow ever longer...and longer...and longer. Now, please don't misunderstand me here. I do believe that the Spirit can move a person (to dance, to sing, to cry, to whatever...), and I believe that the Spirit can move someone through music. I have been moved by music more times than I can count. But I find it a bit too ironic that the Spirit doesn't move these same people outside of rehearsals or performances in any such visible ways. Does the Spirit only act in a certain way at a certain time?

The picture of church that the Bible paints is drastically different than this idea. 1 Corinthians 12 clearly defines the church like a physical body, and each person having their own gifts like unique body parts. We're interwoven together into a community that is all the time. You can't decide when to "do body". That concept makes absolutely no sense. That's how much sense this whole "doing church" thing makes to me. On the days you decide not to "do body" will you not eat, not sleep, not breathe? Will your heart not beat? See? It just doesn't compute. 

When I first joined the gospel choir, I thought that maybe "doing church" was just cultural, but I've seen it unfold as much more than just a saying that tags along with a exuberant song. And the longer I am in the group, the more it bothers me. These students really believe it's okay to just "do church" at church and not anywhere else. We joke a lot about how the gospel choir needs extra prayer because many times we're not prepared for the performances that we do, but the fact of the matter is that the gospel choir needs prayers that go way beyond the performances...and I'm not sure they'll ever know just how much I pray for them.

There is a Light

As an assignment for the class I'm teaching this semester, I asked each of my students to write a personal belief statement - a credo if you will. In 200 or so words, write something that defines who you are, how you live, your very core.

And frankly, it's not an easy task. How do you boil down your entire life into so few words? I told them to be creative, to let flow whatever came out, but to stay true to themselves and their beliefs. I told them I would participate with them, and this was the result:

There is a Light
There is a Light. There is a Light. There’s a Light inside of me. 

I didn’t create it. It didn’t barge in. I don’t make it brighter. But I know there’s a Light. On my own, all I want is darkness, you see. My heart by itself is a dim, dark place. I am filled with sin and trouble and pain. Ah, but there is a Light.

There is a Light. His name is Jesus. He’s the Light inside of me.

He patiently knocked at the door of my heart. For years and for years, He stood and He knocked. He didn’t give up on my once worthless soul. He holds me, He washes me, He makes me so bright. He loves me as His child. Yes, He is the Light.

He is the Light. My beautiful Jesus. The Light inside of me.

And I can only love because He loved me first. And oh how I love Him. Oh how I love. And I can only shine as a mirror of Him. Chipped. Dirty. Imperfect. But a mirror ever still. A mirror for the Light.

Loving Jesus. Glorious Light. The Light inside of me.

I’ll only shine. I’ll only boast. I’ll only live for the Light. In a world full of hurt and darkness and shame. A world of wandering souls and the lost. I’ll shine on and boast on and live on and fight. Only for the Light.

There is a Light. There is a Light. There’s a Light inside of me.

My Heart on a Page

Up. Down. Good. Bad. Exciting. Lame. Lovely. Ugly. Inspiring. Enraging.

Looking back on four plus years of blogging, I have realized something. This random pile of ramblings is a pretty accurate representation of what my heart looks like on paper. (Okay, so on a screen, most specifically, but you get the idea.) You, as the faithful reader you are, have been able to follow along with the extremes of emotions, the best of the best and the worst of the worst, right as it is happening.

I started this whole blogging project four or so years ago as a way to connect with folks back at home and at the office from my lonesome journeys as a recruiter out on the road. But over the years and hundreds of posts, it has evolved into something much different. It's not just the goofy or absurd, the ridiculous or the hilarious aspects of my strange, strange life. It's the picture of a heart. It's become lessons and growth and a sounding board and outpouring spot. It's become reflection and healing and love and learning. And hopefully it's become something far beyond just internal, personal, just for me. My hope is that a few people out there stumble upon this page, or subscribe and read along frequently, or get sent a link at just the right time...and see my heart...and then see God.

Not all of my reflections are about God. Not all of my posts are event godly. Some of them are, well...human. They show weakness, hardship, hurting, frustrations. But hopefully, in the long run, they show growth, maturing, faith. And in that growth, maturing, and faith, hopefully I have been like a mirror (although probably cracked and smudged and dim) reflecting, as best I can, the Light of God.

I've never really thought of writing as a gift I had been given. It was always just something I did, liked to do. But, you know, if God can use my ramblings, imperfections and all, then they are a gift. And I want to use this gift to His glory. So, I offer Him (and you) my heart on a page, as a mirror for the Light, as a gift to His glory.

Haven't Won Yet

Well, it's 12:44 am, and I'm sitting in the rec. center with 28 or so social Greek students, fighting to stay awake as a good example advisor for them, but my heart is a little heavier now than at 4:00 pm. Some of it may just be exhaustion, but some, I feel, it a slight feeling of failure. 

I have worked with the Greek system for over a year and a half, and I certainly have learned a lot...I mean, a lot, in that time. But I still have not found the secret to getting through to them. As of right now, there should be approximately 80 students, and at least nine active organizations, all represented, and actively involved in an athletic event tournament affectionately known as the Greek Olympics. But, as I said, I'm sitting with about 28, nearly all of which are just sitting around.

To make matters worse, most of those that are hear are doing two things that I most certainly do not like: 1) complaining, and 2) talking nasty about each other. First of all, please do not whine that you are tired. You are young, vibrant college students, who, if not given this event as a requirement, would most certainly still be partying, watching tv, or otherwise. I am old(er), and I worked a whole day in my office before I even got here. If I can stay awake, certainly you can. 

But the greater weight on my heart is the negativity and sheer nastiness that resides in the space between each organization (or most organizations). Please tell me what the point is? How can we be so pointlessly cruel and ill intentioned when dealing with each other? Have we not learned that we are only as strong as the parts of the whole? Wouldn't this night be more fun if we tried being uplifting to each other rather than knocking each other down? Wouldn't life in general be a little easier and more fun with this mindset? 

So, whether just tired or truly burdened by this, I sit alone tonight, waiting for 4:00 am to roll around, trying not to let tears fall over how far I have yet to fight this fight for these students to come even close to winning. If only they knew how often I prayed for them...

Isn't it Just Like God...

And isn't it just like God to respond to my inquiries, to fill in the blanks, and to have perfect timing.

The message on Sunday from Ethan was from 1 Peter 1:6-7: "In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."

Translation: In the good news of the Gospel you can find exceeding joy. Your life on earth, although not insignificant, is brief, and you'll suffer all sorts of tests and trials while you're alive. But you are tested so that your faith can grow to such great strengths that it will be stronger than refined gold, because even gold can burn up and be ruined in the fire. It doesn't really matter the size of the trials. How you respond to them makes the difference. Each trial molds your faith in some way, grows it stronger. And when your faith is strong, glory and honor and praise go directly to Jesus. And when life is over, and trials and sufferings finally end, in heaven, Jesus will be fully glorified. So, you need to ask yourself, as trials come along, is it worth it? Are trials and struggles and sufferings worth it when you know that the growth of your faith, your reactions to situations bring glory to God? They are. Small or large. Tough or simple. Just knowing that they bring glory to God is enough to press on. Hold tight to the Gospel. Hold tight to God. It's worth it.

Comparative Struggles

I've been struggling with a concept lately. I think I may have even eluded to it in an earlier post. But lately, I'm been trying to come to grips with struggles. Some days I feel like I'm drowning in a massive whirlpool of doom, like nothing is how it should be, and like I could just crumble into pieces if one more thing went wrong. But then someone loses their husband to cancer. Someone's heart breaks over a friend's divorce. Someone's whole world is falling apart.

My first reaction is guilt. I feel bad for feeling so out of control in my own sufferings which seem so insignificant compared to others. I feel so bad that sometimes I don't want to or find it hard to articulate my struggles to others, thinking that they certainly are going through or have gone through worse.

In my prayer group at work, I hear one woman's stories of her husband committing suicide, her daughter's alcohol addiction, and her employer's abuse of her time, and I think, How dare I think that I'm even remotely suffering. Because her struggles seem so much deeper and more painful than my crazy day at work, my endless to-do list. I hear another woman recount the passing of her mother, father-in-law, and her family's wait for her mother-in-law to pass soon. What loss. What grief.

I am amazed by these women and their strength that they given by God. They have a resilience that I wonder at. And I can't handle a few bad days in a row at work? So, I am stricken with guilt, with shame, that I can't pull myself together over my little struggles.

But how can I reconcile these things? Because the fact of the matter is that I am still stretched too thin, I am still struggling (take a look at my last few posts for confirmation of that), but I see how much worse it could be, how much more that I could be asked to struggle through. Perhaps this is a maturity issue. Maybe I'm not nearly as spiritually mature as I think I am. Perhaps it's a tolerance issue. Similar to physical pain tolerance, is there an emotional pain tolerance? Why is mine lower than the women I look to for guidance? Maybe it's a wisdom and experience issue. Perhaps the more you go through, the more God guides you, or the more you lean on His strength, and the more you can handle. 

And I think the only way we can be taught to handle struggles in our lives is simply to live through them. Maybe I do not handle struggles all that well because God's grace has kept me from many. I have lived such a blessed life, with very little drama or issue. I haven't had cancer, I haven't been divorced, I haven't lost any of my dearest friends. Perhaps only living through my current struggles can teach me to deal with any more. 

No matter what, I continue to struggle with the idea of struggles. I am so very thankful to have lived through so few, but I falter easily at the new struggles that come around. I don't want more struggles, but I want to know how to deal with struggles. And I feel guilty when I compare my struggles to those that have been through so much more. All I can do now is to pray that God grant me some sence of understanding and wisdom in the matter and some peace and maturity to deal with the issues at hand.

And through it all, God is good, God loves me, and God's will is always best. I know this without a doubt.

Aimless Wanderings

As my heart continues to cry out for simplicity in life, it seems that life continues to crank up to yet another gear. The last three days have been one big tornado of chaos and messes, with every little thing turning into an emergency or dilemma to deal with. And although I've cried out to God to calm things down as I know He can, I can't help feel a little guilty for doing it. As we enter the season of lent, I'm reminded of the gravity of Jesus' sacrifice, how much He suffered on my behalf, and I wonder how I can complain.

But nonetheless, I feel strained, stressed, and stretched too thin. And my heart cries for solace, for simplicity, just for a break. A person's mind and body can only take so much before it wants to give up and go to bed. And I've come to realize that the more there is to do, the more chaos there is, the less effective I become at any of it. I lose all sense of direction and aim, and I begin to wander aimlessly. I begin to just toss and arm into the darkness hoping I can manage to catch the break I know is out there somewhere. 

And what's significantly worse, in my opinion, is that, at this pace, in this mode, I am no longer an example that I want anyone to follow. I grow dull and no longer can reflect much of the light of God that I am called to reflect. What kind of witness is that? God has called me to live as the moon, a glowing reflection of Himself, but I'm quite sure that no one sees the moon amidst a tornado. 

So, it's time to remove the guilt of crying out to God. It's time to become real with God, showing Him my whole heart, even if it is exhausted and stretched out. Because clearly, I can't calm the winds, but He can. Clearly, I can't shine myself up to reflect God's light, but He can. I don't want to wander aimlessly anymore. I want to see my Pillar of Fire in the desert and follow every move that He makes. I want to live a life that people want to emulate in order to give God glory. He will give me the strength I need.