Admiring Grace

My natural response to things is anger. I’m a cranky person and it’s very possible that like Nick Miller, I’m aging into my personality. This old soul of mine has its downsides and a big one is not leaving room for other people’s choices. Even the good ones. The best ones. For them . I like knowing what’s coming. Being able to picture and plan. Super type A? Guilty. But as I’ve grown I’ve seen the damaging of pictures and plans. The ones that don’t ever make it out of my head to reality. I’m creative enough to see beautiful things. Fictions. Learning that most will stay far from reality while not letting the flames consume me has been a challenge. I’m not saying I’ve done it. That I’ve made it and here’s my story of success. But that I’m discovering. That I’m starting to recognize the signs of anger rising, burning inside my head and heart – gulp, yep, I’ve got one. What’s kept this battle raging is that it’s hidden. I don’t usually – sorry Mom – bl

When I started writing this, I wanted to be vague. To be artistic and creative. Something I haven’t done in a long while. I sent the draft to my friend regretted hitting send. It wasn’t honest. And I’m nearly positive it only made sense to me. I talked about invisible bars and sitting and patience as action. And most importantly, I washed out my pathetic attempts to almost heroic. Can I just say, capital letters, FALSE. Stupid is just stupid. No excuses. See, I had this problem for quite some time. Most of my friends new about this situation and they didn’t approve. I didn’t approve. But kept myself in a position where I felt important because part of me needed the attention. And it gets worse. I wasn’t content where I was. I wanted more and more. It wasn’t even a relationship. But I thought it could be. Maybe. In a few years. Just wait and see. Of course, I never waited too much - just enough to hang on and be aware of any changes. It was easy. Ju

Any prayer requests? That’s how my lit prof always starts class. This morning I was thinking, wishing I were there right now to shoot up my hand. Yes! I have praise! Although, I have to admit, that isn’t how I woke up. It’s finals week. I was cranky and annoyed as well as emotionally drained from writing some pretty personal stories for my two thesis classes. Like normal I reached for my phone to check the time – up before my alarm yet again. This time I had a few text messages. One friend said some things I didn’t want to hear. Just like friends to share that sort of stuff we just have to hope it’s to benefit us, not to sting. I was in a fine mood as I walked out to get started on breakfast. Scrambled eggs would help get me out of that funk right? That’s what I was praying, anyway, just before I shared my news with my roommate as she headed out to class. I brought my computer out to listen to a sermon. Recently in a crisis of emotion I told anot

I know so many couples. People at church, from school, that I grew up with; people I see while running errands or out with my friends. So. Many. Couples. And I love it. It is so beautiful to see people living out the love they promised before God and before family and friends. What’s less great is how they talk to me, their single friend. There seem to be two spectrums. On the one side they want to set me up with all their bachelor friends and sometimes he turns out to have waited on them once at this tiny restaurant called…but he was cute at least kind of! So I should really let them try because I just really ought to be married too. A coffee outing turns into a pre-proposal they get so excited at the hope of a relationship. Thanks guys, now I don’t have to be desperate, you make it clear I am. The other side tells me the horror stories of their marriages. How he never listens and she quit being interested in him or how all marriage does is make people fig

Everyone I talk to who is over the age of thirty says no way they would trade places with me. Not because my life is so rampant with complications, but because of this stage of life. Right now I am deciding how far I want my education to go. Where I want to live. What I want to do. Who I want to do coffee  with and who I’d prefer to avoid. Then that coffee thing turns into something and then what? Or it doesn’t and there I am with the exact same set of questions. My roommate’s father once asked me what I wanted to do in life and where - pretty basic before-college-graduation questions. So I thought. I didn’t realize I was being vague until he said that it was good I didn’t have specifics because I couldn’t really decide anything without knowing who I was going to marry. Gee thanks. He didn’t mean to be annoying or rude. But he had a valid point. A lot of my decisions now (ahem, all of them) will have their effects on the rest of my life. Throwing myself into my educa

I’ve had a rather horrid realization: Just because someone already loves Jesus doesn’t mean I stop being a witness. The terrible part is I haven’t been living up to that. I tend to assume that my behavior around and toward my Christian friends can be different because “they know what I mean” or “they understand me” so much better than others or “they’ll forgive me.” More often than not all three are true. But what excuse is that? So often I am captured by how I feel and made slave to it by my own will. I hold on to how I feel and project it however I see fit. I don’t wait to see if it is beneficial. I just do it. Nike would be proud. Jesus isn’t. I heard my uncle talk about the churches in Kenya. They have this saying called the “Monday Church.” They say that to remind the Body of Christ that it isn’t just Sunday we are the bride of Christ but at all times in all things. I originally thought it was such a cool movement. Go Kenya! It hit me that I don’

Last week I went out with a friend. We were talking and getting the other caught up with the details of our lives. It was a whole lot of fun. I love conversations like those. I love friends who will talk like that. Then I got asked a big question, What are you good at? And I didn’t know. See, we were discussing our futures and our answers to the “what’s next?” questions that come after college graduation. I threw my plans under the bus that night. Because that’s not what I want. But my problem is: I don’t really know what I want. What are you good at? I’ve been thinking about that question all week. Truth is, I’m good at a lot of things. I just don’t know where I fit best. I have yet to find the place where the world’s deep need and my deep gladness meet. (Frederick Beucher uses the juxtaposition to define vocational calling) Two days after this conversation I sat at my cousin’s wedding. It was beautiful in every way. And I sat watching my other cousins w

I can write just about anything. Especially when it comes to the important things. I can post it here or write a letter or keep my thoughts in my journal. I can’t say it though. Especially the important things. My brain stops working and my tongue freezes up and nothing happens. I’m all-of-the sudden passive. And I just let the moment pass because that’s how time works and life changes quickly. I have let a year’s worth of moments pass . And I’ll never get them back. All the times I could-have-should-have-meant-to slipped by without my permission. Until here I am sure that since I can’t go back in time the forward is forever changed. So I tried to do other things and switch-up my focus. Anything to not waste more of my time. But my gaze always slides back. Or over. Or wherever just for a glimpse. I’ve let good things pass by because I can’t, won’t move farther away. I’ll move away all right, but only so far. Until I loose sight then one, two steps back an

Life is rushing through me. No longer by, just straight through. I see so many things in this world I want to impact, to change. But here I am, halted. It’s not apathy. It’s paralytic. Decisions are being made and I see myself saying no or even agreeing but all along my mind is screaming what are you doing? And I don’t really know. Every choice I make this semester is a big one. Where will I live? Where will I work? Should I get a roommate? Which relationships should I invest the most in? Does any of it even matter? Luckily for me, Ecclesiastes is in my top ten. I can see it now: sitting at your computer screen shaking your head. That book is so depressing you poor thing. That’s not lucky. Read some Psalms. Okay. That’s good advice too, but you’re wrong. That book has pushed me through many paralytic seasons. I was in a bible study a few years ago that went through this book and made me fall even more in love with it. Solomon was the wisest, most wealthy, best

Ah the glories of a new semester. The wonder of this being the last. Rain has fallen nearly steadily since I returned to classes. Almost as if nature itself cannot console itself with the changing tides. That’s been a big theme for the past year. Change. Here I have talked a lot about how receptive I have been to it, but really that’s only a part of the picture. I don’t publish the things I’ve been learning until long after I’ve realized the lesson is there. At times I am in the midst of it still, but yet, I am far from the beginning. I’m reminded of that journey as I sit in an unfamiliar place imagining an unfamiliar scene. It would be so simple to just look out the window and picture what I’d like to be there – I so often do. But how often do I look to see what’s there? What is right before my face. Not often, I must admit. It is so much easier for me to dream of something than to admit what I have is, well, what I have. An empty sidewalk is easily a running track for