I've been waiting all day to blog, and now I get here, and I'm not sure what to write.
I think I can honestly say that this has been the most relaxed weekend I remember in ages. Nothing to do but organize, unpack, and orient myself with my surroundings...oh, and skim the first 2 anatomy lectures for Monday...but that's another story.
I'm so thankful for the calm before the storm.
Friday night and Saturday morning were spent almost exclusively unpacking and decorating my new digs. I'm pleased with how everything came together...tons of pictures, lots of lamps, random reminders of old memories. I have a reading corner, a coffee station, an elevated bed, a mini-fridge, and even a "portable kitchen" (stacking bins with all my kitchen essentials that can be carried down to the kitchenette whenever I cook). It's a nice little room. Lots of light, nice and quite, spacious yet cozy. I got my grocery shopping done, braved my first trip off campus, and found a few coffee shops but mostly got lost in the "suburbian maze" and felt glad to come back to the calm of campus.
Saturday afternoon, after Matt finished teaching in Batavia, he came over and whisked me off to the city. I had figured out enough about the metra system to get us into Chicago by rail (an adventure to be sure, but not that hard after you've done it once). What fun to ride the 45 mintes, observing the many types of people who move in to the city for Saturday night life. One of my favorite things about such adventures is that you never know what types of people you'll see, what little conversations you'll overhear, and what you can learn about a person's life from the clothes they wear or what they carry. Since public transport in the city makes so much sense and is so inexpensive, you see people who are homeless sitting quite near those who obviously live comfortably in a rich suburb. I heard 4-5 different languages in one trip, and saw ages across a lifetime. Its a fascinating blend.
Chicago was our destination primarily for the Chicago Blues Fest, recommended to us by my PA program director along with the command, "DON'T spend your last free weekend on campus worrying about anatomy!!!".
We were happy to comply.
We took the metra to union station, asked for directions from a conductor and followed them...they were totally wrong. After boarding the wrong bus, the driver kindly dropped us at the spot on his route that was closest to our destination and we walked the rest of the way in. The festival spans 4-5 blocks between Michigan Avenue and Lake Shore Drive, overlapping with Grant Park primarily. 5 major stages are interspersed with fair food, music and guitar stores set up under tents, and street musicians with a single amp and a guitar singing away. The mood was reminicent of the Decatur Celebration in places, but with a wider breadth of people overall, and, for the most part, an incredibly high level of talent. Brass jazz bands, bluegrass rhythm bands, and slow, sweet new orleans style blues competed for sound space all afternoon. After an hour or so of listening, we headed down michigan avenue and had a nice dinner at an outdoor cafe. Good conversation and wonderful food under the serenade of a street singer whose can got just a little more full as we walked away. Back at the fest, we walked in and out of several shows, but stood for over an hour to hear the night show of Bettye Levette. I'd never heard of her before last night, but she's the older black woman who sang with Jon Bon Jovi at O'bama's Inauguration. She's 63 and put out her first album in 1969...and apparently both then and now she's a pretty big deal. Not only did she sing a good amount of "self history" but she touched on lots of classics from every imaginable blues genre. People were dancing, clapping, laughing...it didn't matter...no one could stand still. I love the ambiguity that comes with a large crowd under a darkening sky. No one cares what's going on so long as they can still hear the music. We all reveled in a shared experience that promoted unusual individuality with no shame. :) What an incredible show.
After a late night, this morning's adventure was to do the first church visit in the area...something Matt and I have been pretty excited about for a while. We did all the research, found directions and times, etc, and got there just in time for the service this morning. Unfortunately, the service wasn't there... apparently Wheaton Bible Church has moved...and to no where in the near vicinity, I assure you. We drove around for quite some time looking for it, and after doing so realized we had missed all the other services for the 8,000 or so other churches in Wheaton. Oops. But, we enjoyed lunch and a little church service of our own, which turned out fine. To be continued next week.
This afternoon, in an effort to start being more active, we headed to Midwestern's Wellness Center. It was completely empty, save a nice security guard and one lonely basketball player. Matt and I had decided that learning to play racket ball would be fun and new...and after calling Mom for her 20 year old recollections on how to play, we started right in. I will say that we definitely need some work...but even when you can't hit the ball anywhere NEAR where it's supposed to be going, playing a life sized version of "anything goes" ping pong is a LOT of fun...and a lot of work. We got good and sweaty, then came back to my room to google the real game instructions. Certainly we were not doing things correctly, but with our lack of accuracy it probably didn't matter. Better luck next week we hope. :) In the meantime, I've decided that very few actions are more satisfying that whacking a racket ball like crazy and watching it bounce off 6 different surfaces. I'm thinking I'll keep this in my stress relief arsenal for future days of "storm".
Tonight capped off the weekend perfectly. Before Matt headed home, I made dinner (Taco salads and Blue Corn Chips) and then we headed to downtown Downers Grove. Unlike the busy, sprawling, concrete mess that I had understood were "the suburbs", we found a small-town feeling city center with lots of trees, older buildings, and a coffee shop where the barista knew the name of everyone who walked in (except us, of course). We got coffee, and began to stroll up and down the many streets...walking past endless adorable boutiques, fun local restaurants, pizza parlors, old style barber shops, art supply stores, galleries, dance studios, and etc. There was an 1800's cemetary, where many of the first townsfolk are buried, a beautiful square complete with an old theater and a old-style diner, and the train station, with a beautiful old clock. Couples kept riding their bikes into the square and parking them in front of the sundae shop. Families with young kids were playing by the fountain and in the park. Teenagers were walking in from nearby residences to hang out at the coffee shops. I take back everything I've ever said about the suburbs being cookie cutter, collossal, materialistic, and boring. I guess I just had never seen anything but the "mall and metropolis" side of them. The Caribou on the corner will be a perfect study spot (just the right amount of noise...good music....$1 coffee on mondays), the small amphitheater in the city park has live music every saturday night (as does the Irish style pub), and the "Cellar Door" has both expensive and inexpensive wines and a beautiful outdoor patio to enjoy them on. This Matt and I did as we counted our many blessings and enjoyed the beatiful evening.
I feel aclimated, relaxed, and increasingly comfortable in this atmosphere. And though I'm intensely aware that tomorrow's start to classes will quickly blow this feeling out of the water, the breath I got to take before jumping off the cliff was lovely and deep enough to last me for a while. What a blessing!!
Tonight my friend Erin called to ask if I wanted to walk to class with her in the morning. Its clear I'm not the only one who's a bit apprehensive. But then again, we've got each other...and we're all about to be in the same storm-chased boat.
Please be in prayer for me tomorrow especially in the afternoon...I'm headed for Anatomy lab, and quite frankly I'm intimidated beyond belief.
Signing off as the relaxed me...and anticipating all that lies ahead...
Morgs
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
You know "you've arrived" when...
After an inexcusable absence I return today because I hope that someone I know will stumble across this and enjoy the read. I'm a journaler at heart, and if I had the time I think I'd probably do this or a paper version every day. But I don't, and so I get behind.
Nevertheless, when I come to points in my life when significance or just the sheer weight of processable occurances surface, I feel compelled here out of some sort of obligation. Today is one of those days.
I'm officially here. I've been waiting for this week for about 6 years, and today I'm on the cusp of my PA education. Orientation is behind me, I have a dorm room for the first time in my life, I live in the suburbs, and I'm starting classes on Monday. So much has happened in the last 72 hours that I can't imagine getting all the details, but I'll bullet point the events that make me sure that I have, indeed, arrived, along with a few things that have occurred that I never expected.
~ I'm scared
The first 2 days I was on campus were filled with orientation...an event that I thought would be low key and boring. In fact, it was boring and completely overwhelming. We received no less than 50 sheets of paper each detailing rules, regulations, policies, "to do's", and etc, and with each new lecturer came another set of details to check, another warning about how much study strategies from undergrad simply wouldn't work. Each lecture should be read 3-4 times. Flashcards won't work. Note copying is a waste of time. Plan on at least 4 extra hours in the lab (on top of 6 that are scheduled weeky) if you want to pass the first practical. Our list of exams is extremely long, with many weeks in July and August hosting 3 tests a week.
~ I'm inspired
Probably the best part of orientation was getting to hear our faculty for the PA program talk about themselves, the program, and the next year. Each one, from the program director to the secretary, got to stand up and give us some words of advise after telling us something about themselves. My impression of the faculty is that they are amazing. Each told some great personal stories that had us laughing, and all seem to have a lively yet professional relationship with fellow teachers. They expressed to us how much they LOVED to practice medicines, some of the reasons that they are still excited about it, and some of the reasons they were driven to teach. In addition, they shared what their own clinical practices look like. While most only work part time now, they all have some incredibly inspirational practices. Our medical director has two kids, is a deacon in the catholic church, works 3/4 time at Midwestern, and still manages to work at least 1/2 time at the Cook County jail (the largest single-site jail in the country) alongside his wife. The program director volunteers at a cardiac pediatric clinic in the city on her "off" weekends. My adviser is an MD from India, who volunteers in an underserved medical clinic on the south side of Chicago. Another of our facutly is a PhD and MD who has worked at a city clinic for 25 years. It is almost 60% latino, and while he knows plenty of vocabulary to get through the day, this 55+ year old grandfather has decided that this summer he will become fluent in Spanish (he asked all of us to "hold his feet to the fire"). This man also leads the underserved populations club on the campus. One of our other full time professors has worked at an exclusively latino speaking clinic in downtown Chicago and is very involved in the medical spanish club and classes here. I'm telling you, sitting there in those seats that afternoon I felt like you needed a rope to keep me from floating away. I'm so thrilled not only to be so affirmed and encouraged by these people, but to be under their influence over the next three years. I'm so hoping that I can be like these people when i get older: involved in service, always doing and pursuing new things, investing in the next generation. At this point, I'm far more excited about this influence than i am about the classes.
~ I'm very certain
I've been praying about this decision for the last 2 years, and as it approached it seemed like the tangle of possibilities would never unravel into a clear path. But they did, and I recieved answers just at the right moment, with no more or less clarity than I needed. Walking in to orient that first morning, I felt a little bit like I was challenging God. "This is where I'm supposed to be?? Hope you can prove it." He did. I'm absolutely serious when I tell you that within 4 minutes of walking through the front door I got drawn into a conversation with 4 girls I'd never seen before. We walked in and sat down together durning the first lecture, and for the rest of the day we were a bit inseparable. By lunch time, one of the girls had affectionately dubbed us "The Posse" and we were acting like we'd known each other for weeks. Erin, Emily, Ally, and Danielle have been a blessing to me as I adjusted to the campus. In addition to this great blessing, I found that most of the people I met were obviously intellegent, but incredibly approachable, open, and friendly. True, it's orientation week, so everyone is going to be kind, but there is nothing like walking into a room and feeling accepted, even sought out immediately by people who are anything but competative and intellectually aloof. The final faucet to the "social affirmations" of the week was last night at the "Big/little picnic". Everyone was invited to come and eat and then find their mentor from the class above them. For some reason, my mentor didn't show up, so I ended up sitting with Erin, her new husband, and a random assortment of others. After small talk about studies and etc, one of the mentors asked if there was anything else we wanted to know. Erin's husband, Brian, piped up and mentioned that the two of them would be looking for a church. Suddenly, everyone at my table was offering advise on churches they went to, where they were, whether they were sound in teaching, and etc. I met two more Christian students, one of whom went to Taylor and knows several of my friends! This was such an incredibly affirming experience, and so exciting to consider those who can keep me on track and encouraged over the next year of "marathon". Praise the Lord!
I've been clinging to Isaiah 30:21 the past few weeks, and it has proved to me over and over again that God really does care about each little element of our lives.
"Whether you turn to the right or the left, your ears will hear a voice behind them saying, 'This is the way, walk in it'"
As much fun and affirmation as I've had in the past 3 days, there are a few things that I didn't expect that have been interesting and/or comical to manage:
1) it IS possible too over pack for moving in to your dorm, even when it's a 180 sq foot single.
2) timing doesn't always work well. We get $$ for tuition from our loans on Monday, but the disembursment for food, books, supplies, and other essentials doesn't get dished out until 10 days from now. Also, our ID badges don't come in till Tuesday, but every building on campus is locked and you can't eat meals without them. hmmm....the weekend could be fun.
3) Rolls of toilet paper go a LOT slower when there is one girl in the "house" rather than 6.
4) An extra 6 inches underneath an adjustable bed can make a world of difference.
5) Dorms don't come with shower curtains.
6) I absolutely couldn't have survived the move in without my parents manual and financial assistance. Independant is definitely a false term.
7) I have a rediculous abundance of post it notes. Seriously. I don't know where they all came from. Like, I probably have 30 extra pads besides the ones on my desk. Hehhe.
8) The little 3m nail-free hooks are probably the most precious un-tapped resource in the world. Blessings on whoever invented them. :)
Well, I'm off to keep unpacking and hopefully finish decorating the room! Thanks for reading.
Nevertheless, when I come to points in my life when significance or just the sheer weight of processable occurances surface, I feel compelled here out of some sort of obligation. Today is one of those days.
I'm officially here. I've been waiting for this week for about 6 years, and today I'm on the cusp of my PA education. Orientation is behind me, I have a dorm room for the first time in my life, I live in the suburbs, and I'm starting classes on Monday. So much has happened in the last 72 hours that I can't imagine getting all the details, but I'll bullet point the events that make me sure that I have, indeed, arrived, along with a few things that have occurred that I never expected.
~ I'm scared
The first 2 days I was on campus were filled with orientation...an event that I thought would be low key and boring. In fact, it was boring and completely overwhelming. We received no less than 50 sheets of paper each detailing rules, regulations, policies, "to do's", and etc, and with each new lecturer came another set of details to check, another warning about how much study strategies from undergrad simply wouldn't work. Each lecture should be read 3-4 times. Flashcards won't work. Note copying is a waste of time. Plan on at least 4 extra hours in the lab (on top of 6 that are scheduled weeky) if you want to pass the first practical. Our list of exams is extremely long, with many weeks in July and August hosting 3 tests a week.
~ I'm inspired
Probably the best part of orientation was getting to hear our faculty for the PA program talk about themselves, the program, and the next year. Each one, from the program director to the secretary, got to stand up and give us some words of advise after telling us something about themselves. My impression of the faculty is that they are amazing. Each told some great personal stories that had us laughing, and all seem to have a lively yet professional relationship with fellow teachers. They expressed to us how much they LOVED to practice medicines, some of the reasons that they are still excited about it, and some of the reasons they were driven to teach. In addition, they shared what their own clinical practices look like. While most only work part time now, they all have some incredibly inspirational practices. Our medical director has two kids, is a deacon in the catholic church, works 3/4 time at Midwestern, and still manages to work at least 1/2 time at the Cook County jail (the largest single-site jail in the country) alongside his wife. The program director volunteers at a cardiac pediatric clinic in the city on her "off" weekends. My adviser is an MD from India, who volunteers in an underserved medical clinic on the south side of Chicago. Another of our facutly is a PhD and MD who has worked at a city clinic for 25 years. It is almost 60% latino, and while he knows plenty of vocabulary to get through the day, this 55+ year old grandfather has decided that this summer he will become fluent in Spanish (he asked all of us to "hold his feet to the fire"). This man also leads the underserved populations club on the campus. One of our other full time professors has worked at an exclusively latino speaking clinic in downtown Chicago and is very involved in the medical spanish club and classes here. I'm telling you, sitting there in those seats that afternoon I felt like you needed a rope to keep me from floating away. I'm so thrilled not only to be so affirmed and encouraged by these people, but to be under their influence over the next three years. I'm so hoping that I can be like these people when i get older: involved in service, always doing and pursuing new things, investing in the next generation. At this point, I'm far more excited about this influence than i am about the classes.
~ I'm very certain
I've been praying about this decision for the last 2 years, and as it approached it seemed like the tangle of possibilities would never unravel into a clear path. But they did, and I recieved answers just at the right moment, with no more or less clarity than I needed. Walking in to orient that first morning, I felt a little bit like I was challenging God. "This is where I'm supposed to be?? Hope you can prove it." He did. I'm absolutely serious when I tell you that within 4 minutes of walking through the front door I got drawn into a conversation with 4 girls I'd never seen before. We walked in and sat down together durning the first lecture, and for the rest of the day we were a bit inseparable. By lunch time, one of the girls had affectionately dubbed us "The Posse" and we were acting like we'd known each other for weeks. Erin, Emily, Ally, and Danielle have been a blessing to me as I adjusted to the campus. In addition to this great blessing, I found that most of the people I met were obviously intellegent, but incredibly approachable, open, and friendly. True, it's orientation week, so everyone is going to be kind, but there is nothing like walking into a room and feeling accepted, even sought out immediately by people who are anything but competative and intellectually aloof. The final faucet to the "social affirmations" of the week was last night at the "Big/little picnic". Everyone was invited to come and eat and then find their mentor from the class above them. For some reason, my mentor didn't show up, so I ended up sitting with Erin, her new husband, and a random assortment of others. After small talk about studies and etc, one of the mentors asked if there was anything else we wanted to know. Erin's husband, Brian, piped up and mentioned that the two of them would be looking for a church. Suddenly, everyone at my table was offering advise on churches they went to, where they were, whether they were sound in teaching, and etc. I met two more Christian students, one of whom went to Taylor and knows several of my friends! This was such an incredibly affirming experience, and so exciting to consider those who can keep me on track and encouraged over the next year of "marathon". Praise the Lord!
I've been clinging to Isaiah 30:21 the past few weeks, and it has proved to me over and over again that God really does care about each little element of our lives.
"Whether you turn to the right or the left, your ears will hear a voice behind them saying, 'This is the way, walk in it'"
As much fun and affirmation as I've had in the past 3 days, there are a few things that I didn't expect that have been interesting and/or comical to manage:
1) it IS possible too over pack for moving in to your dorm, even when it's a 180 sq foot single.
2) timing doesn't always work well. We get $$ for tuition from our loans on Monday, but the disembursment for food, books, supplies, and other essentials doesn't get dished out until 10 days from now. Also, our ID badges don't come in till Tuesday, but every building on campus is locked and you can't eat meals without them. hmmm....the weekend could be fun.
3) Rolls of toilet paper go a LOT slower when there is one girl in the "house" rather than 6.
4) An extra 6 inches underneath an adjustable bed can make a world of difference.
5) Dorms don't come with shower curtains.
6) I absolutely couldn't have survived the move in without my parents manual and financial assistance. Independant is definitely a false term.
7) I have a rediculous abundance of post it notes. Seriously. I don't know where they all came from. Like, I probably have 30 extra pads besides the ones on my desk. Hehhe.
8) The little 3m nail-free hooks are probably the most precious un-tapped resource in the world. Blessings on whoever invented them. :)
Well, I'm off to keep unpacking and hopefully finish decorating the room! Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
coasting
A brief 45 minute break between classes finds me printing off sheets of work "to be done" and not wanting to do any of it. I'm exhausted.
It's a wonderful rainy day...distant thunder and steady but gentle showers have given the day a lazy feel...but its humid and temperatures are deliciously mild in comparison with the bitter cold of the last 3 weeks. Winter returns this weekend, says the weather man, but today I'm wearing flip-flops, and only mildly chilled from the soakings I receive between classes.
Still struggling to get into the groove of the semester. Some would say I'm merely coasting to the finish...and if you look at my class schedule alone that might be true. 12 credits, 2 of which are "fillers" only 1 big bio class and then physics 2. But I'm certainly filling time in other ways...and the energy that I'm giving to the things outside of college seem to be throwing off my abilities to focus and efficiently tackle my school work. It has already been an up and down semester, emotional, intense, exciting, fearful, confused. This type of coasting isn't so much about ease as it is about a lack of control. For those of you who know me well, this is the real reason I hate roller coasters. You never know what the next turn will do to your insides, and you find yourself focusing on something that's relatively unimportant when compared to the thing around the next turn.
It's a wonderful rainy day...distant thunder and steady but gentle showers have given the day a lazy feel...but its humid and temperatures are deliciously mild in comparison with the bitter cold of the last 3 weeks. Winter returns this weekend, says the weather man, but today I'm wearing flip-flops, and only mildly chilled from the soakings I receive between classes.
Still struggling to get into the groove of the semester. Some would say I'm merely coasting to the finish...and if you look at my class schedule alone that might be true. 12 credits, 2 of which are "fillers" only 1 big bio class and then physics 2. But I'm certainly filling time in other ways...and the energy that I'm giving to the things outside of college seem to be throwing off my abilities to focus and efficiently tackle my school work. It has already been an up and down semester, emotional, intense, exciting, fearful, confused. This type of coasting isn't so much about ease as it is about a lack of control. For those of you who know me well, this is the real reason I hate roller coasters. You never know what the next turn will do to your insides, and you find yourself focusing on something that's relatively unimportant when compared to the thing around the next turn.
So while life has brought grace and gifts in spades over the past 2 weeks, it has also brought struggle and unforseen challenge. I find myself drained and filled sometimes multiple times in the day. Surely God plans these ebbs and flows to remind me of my frailty along with my blessings.
(Random insert, while google searching for a picture to put on this post, I came across another blog about roller coasters...I like his phrasology:
"Life is so full of ups and downs. It’s like a rollercoaster, but where you have to eat and go to the bathroom, then die eventually. Not that those things never happen on rollercoasters."
Ok...back to the real post now)
Probably the most filling portion of my semester thus far has been the bible study on Romans that I've been leading at the house on Tuesday nights. With 10-15 bodies gathering per meeting, it's a bit too big to be coined a "small group", but I'm so grateful for the group of people, almost all of whom have had some large impact on my life over the last 3 years. I'm reminded as I was a few summers ago that in so many ways, the greatest learning comes when you try to teach. Nothing could be further from my area of expertise than the essays of Romans...yet in many ways the explanations that Paul affords to the early church are merely foundational reminders...clarifications on the "heart" of the matter, which have been overlooked under the shadow of the law and the chosen people. The bible study was started because the IV leadership (myself included) from last semester felt strongly that the upperclassmen in our group were being asked to lead rather than to study and be fed far too often. And while leadership requires faith and dependence, it's so easy to lose sight of the foundation...the anchor from which all pursuits of the spirit must rely. And so, we've come together...the most diverse group of friends I see in the same room all week long. Some are strangers to each other, some are fast friends, all are intensely dedicated to seeking out truth...hungry...begging for something besides pat answers and glossed over "Christianese". They seek out tension points, dig for truth, muddy the water, ask the real questions. It has fed me so much, first to prepare these passages and then to guide or be guided through discussions on them. Last night we had an incredibly academic discussion on Romans 3, seeking to define words we've known since we were 5: Grace. Justice. Atonement. Forbearance. Can we understand the way that the Jews began to believe that God was either merciful or just at His whim? Can we explain why his love and his nature required both? Do we appreciate the beauty of justice, which at its best results in condemnation and grace in tandem? And suddenly the sacrifice of Jesus, so perfectly atoning for the sins of all, becomes what allows God to manifest His wrath and His love in one action. Jesus allowed God to demonstrate His justice (which had always been there) in order that He would be once again be recognized by the people of the world as just, and completely holy. As such, he could also declare us not just forgiven, but justified...righteous...in total harmony with God himself. Never has the love of the Father been more real to me. If you want a good head spinning, read Romans 3: 25-28.
A major drain on the past 3 weeks has been trying to sort out the grad school issues. As of this moment I'm down to 3 schools...something I view with relief and some elements of hesitation. I'm glad that the field is finally starting to narrow, but at the same time the decision is quickly becoming real. All the traveling will come to an end this weekend, when I make my presence known at Saint Louis University. I'm expecting a great program and hoping, as always, to "wow" them. More than anything I'm praying for clarity. This weekend, I turned down Marietta University (in southeastern Ohio)...and heard from UW-Madison that unless someone drops out for personal reasons or dies I won't be going there...they have filled their class, at least for now. This leaves me with my acceptance at SIU-C, and a waiting game at Midwestern (no word yet), and SLU. I'm praying to have some sort of "final answer" by early March. As taxing as the travel, worry, and desision making can be, I'm really starting to get excited about school, about my first move "away", and about my intense year coming soon. :)
A relatively "little thing" but something that has been fun and encouraging is the Pilates class that I'm taking at the DISC 2 evenings a week. This is something that I've never done before, and something that I'm farely bad at...but it's been a great release of energy that keeps me gaining at least miniscule amounts of muscle tone and a few new friendships. The class itself is hysterical. Our teacher is a 50ish year old woman who is in shape but not a body builder by any means. She's encouraging, fun, and honest about the poses and lifts that even she can't do. Then there is the group of 6-7 women and one man in the 60+ group. They've been doing classes together for years and are constantly chatting in the left corner of the room. A few middle aged loners also wander in each night...most of whom are significantly obese but are definitely trying hard to make a change. Closer to the middle of the room are the cheerleaders and dancers. I'm not sure why they come, because most of them could do the routines that we try to do for 5 or 6 times the required length. Their thighs and abs of steel combined with rediculous flexiblity makes a workout that causes me to sweat simply a warm up for them. On the right side of the room is what I like to call the "awkward crowd". There are 2-3 twenty-something aged women and one flamboyantly gay sophmore guy. Behind them is me, and in front of them is zen woman. Zen woman is slender and short, with a long silver braid down her back and a rich slovic accent. She's soft spoken and strong, and could balance on one toenail with a leg behind her head while eating a grapefruit. Every time I see her accomplish some rediculous pose with rediculous ease I hear Brian Regan in my ear... "Place both feet in the small of your back, and BREATHE!!". The class has been challenging but a great stress reliever too...and with all the different characters in the room, something is bound to happen that is worth a good laugh.
This past weekend I spent Friday and Saturday at the Decatur Conference Center along with about 200 Intervarsity students and staff from 13 different schools around Illinois and Missouri. "Metamorphosis" is a multi-tracked conference that allows a lot of time for personal growth and reflection, but also some good time for bonding within the Millikin chapter. 15 of us went and we had a great time. I especially got to know 3 of the freshman girls that I roomed with. They were darling and kept me on my toes (and without much sleep) throught the weekend. It's a blessing to see what a wonderful class of freshman we have...some diamond in the rough leaders are ready to be polished and affirmed. God has been good to show us the capable instruments who will be doing his work long after we leave this campus. I was a part of the "After College" track, along with 4 other seniors from Millikin. Our sessions discussed everything from how to hear God when making life decisions to how to manage money and budgets, how to get involved in a local church, and how to build relationships outside of the college network. I can't synthesize all the many things that I learned right here...but I will say that one of my most meaningful moments came while we were scanning Mark 1. Jesus walks by the lake and he calls out to the sons of Zebedee, who are fishermen and mending their nets. "Come, Follow me...and I will make you fishers of men." I had been calling out for clarity all weekend about the school decisions I made Monday morning...and in that moment the Lord spoke so clearly.
This isn't about what you decide. It's not about the long term plan. It's not even about you staying "awake" so you don't miss the exit ramp. Look around you...I'm teaching you something RIGHT NOW that you'll need later. Your future depends on what you've been given to steward today...don't miss it because you're worried about tomorrow. Come, follow me. Put your feet in my footprints and don't look back. I've got a new world you've never imagined waiting for you. And even though you don't know it, I've already prepared you for what lies ahead.
How silly I am to imagine that the now of God's plan has nothing to do with the later. And what a relief to remember that God really does have control. So long as my ears are open and my heart is right with Him, I can't mess this up. Do I believe He has control? Then I believe that His power is greater than my insufficiencies. That His spirit is stronger than my sinful will. That my heart's desires are an outcropping of His purpose for my life.
I still have no clue where I'm going...but I suppose that's just the point.
Another up and down pair for this semester has been the dating coaster. 2 breakups in my periphery and one in plain view over the past week have highlighted that it is "the time" to define relationships on a level far past compatablility. While the extra ice cream and girl time that breakups create is wonderfully communal and almost fun, there's an element of all of us asking "how much more is this going to happen?" The proverbial clock seems to be ticking faster, and as everyone makes plans to move on or settle down, the next natural step is to decide to go "all in" or "fold". 2 weddings for close friends in the next 6 months remind me that many are taking the plunge and totally ready for it. But the pressure cooker isn't seeming to get any cooler. As each new ring emerges the heat seems to rise steadily.
I keep reminding myself amidst the drama, heartache, and excitement that comes from all relationships that the image of a timetable is an illusion in truth. No social standard or norm should dictate a decision if the time isn't right. And yet, it's natural to begin making decisions in tandem...and with grad school finalization right around the corner, it's hard not to lump Matt, career, school, roomate, and future home all in one decision. I've hit my fair share of questions on all of the above in the last month especially, and have come to the realization that to try to make all of these determinations at once is to try to take control of all aspects of life at the same point. Not only is it impossible, its unhealthy...and I'm gradually learning to focus on one at a time. That said, I'm certainly keeping my eyes open and listening to my heart as often as possible.
Through it all, the ups and the downs, the changes and the constants, the questions and the answers that turn into questions, this I know for sure: God is faithful today, tomorrow, and forever. As He gives and takes away, I make it my goal to praise his name forever...exclusively...in every circumstance.
Blessed be the name of the Lord.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
on seniority, the southwest, musical spirituality, and starting over...
greetings.
all in all I'm not really a new year's resolution type of girl. Sure, I've done it from time to time...but I, like most Americans, rarely follow through because the change is scripted and duty bound. But every once in a while, when I have a few extra seconds around me to breathe and take in the scenery, I become aware of a change that I really WANT to make...something that I know will make me tick but that is not a part of my life for some reason or the other. It sounds silly, but blogging is one of those things. Over Christmas break I started realizing that the past semester has been the least introspective for me in quite a while. And I don't like it.
I used to blog, journal, or write letters to myself on a nearly daily basis...and it fed my soul in many ways....but somehow, this past semester I have slipped out of it. I'm an external processor for the most part, I think. Much of my best talking and thinking gets done in conversation, either with others or with a blank page. And while introspection as an entity is often viewed as something done in quiet and in private, I find that while journaling or praying helps illuminate certain aspects of my soul, other parts of my being are best illuminated by a more public introspection. I was telling mom the other day that some of the friends I'm closest to, the ones I open my heart to and spill out my thoughts, feelings, and understandings to, are valuable not just because we share so much but because they cause me to say aloud the things I hold true within myself. Without these closest of aquaintances, who love me for who I am no matter what, I migth never be able to see the schemas and frameworks that I hold true...and, as a result, I might never understand the ways that my actions are governed by these beliefs. I pray that I'll never reach a point where my actions and attitudes are not occasionally reconsidered under the light of scripture, introspection, and the voicing of these thoughts and feelings to those around me whom I trust and love. All this leads me to an invitation, which I suppose I always assumed but have never stated about this site. Cross me if you must, think with me if something I say catches you wrong. I believe that one of the great mysteries of the body of Christ is the way that we must be open and vulnerable before each other in order to grow most quickly towards Christ. If we are not open to each other, not willing to be inspected, crossed, changed in our intereactions, than we may never reap the fullness of the relationships that God places in our path. You may be only my distant accquaintance...and yet, I believe that my greatest failure would be to keep myself closed either from lazyness or fear.
Therefore, i'm resolved to start over...not necessarily because it's the new year but because I've been a bit convicted that I've allowed a piece of myself to get apathetic towards its growth. I write here, and in my journal because I know I must keep an occasional eye on the trend of my thought patterns and actions...and I speak to those of you who I love and trust because I know I need you to occasionally check me. And, straying from the deep and intentional reasons for dialoging with no one in particular, I write here so that some day I can look back and see what God brought me through. May his name always be glorified through my rants, records, and revalations.
Tomorrow marks the first day of my last semester of college. Yes, "spring 09" is upon us...that small little combo that I've been putting on forms and sign ups for years. I've picked out my last class schedule, done a degree audit, and I'm currently living in the last house I'll ever live in during my undergraduate years. I moved out of my parents house yesterday and after unpacking I realized it is very likely the last time that i will live there. In June, Lord willing, I'm off to grad school...and the chances of my moving back are slim to none. It never ceases to amaze me how the big things always sneak up on me while I'm paying attention to details. 2 days ago I returned from choir tour, where my seniority was emphasized at every turn. I'm a section leader, the tour mom, and the go-to-girl for my dad and the choir alike. It was a wonderful trip to the southwest, and one that reminded me of all of the wonderful things that I've been given through this group over the years. My salvation experience was literally a result of sitting in Dad's concert, and physically feeling for the first time, God tugging on my heart. Then there was the year that my Christmas gift was a little suitcase and I got to go with dad all by myself on tour as a 10 year old. Getting to sit in the dressing room with the girls before all the concerts, letting them do my makeup, and seeing their excitement as they finally walked on stage made my days full somehow. And dreaming about someday being one of them was something that occupied a great deal of my time. In the last 3 years, being in the choir has changed the way that I see life, beauty, and the purpose of my future. It's changed the way I view people, my understanding of the value of giving of your soul, and my ideas about art and truth. It's brought me closer to dad, closer to my christian friends in the group, closer to people who think totally opposite of me and who I would never have gotten to know. I'm so thankful for this body, and so heartbroken that starting tomorrow I won't be able to go to reahearsals any more. Physics 2 somehow takes precedent over finishing out the semester with the people and the activity that have been balm to my soul so many times. I'm a bit afraid about returning on tour this weekend for my last 3 concerts. There is no question that I will be a total mess. :)
And yet, in the midst of all the feelings of seniority, it has been a blessing to also experience some very distinct "newness" over the past 2-3 weeks. My relationship with TJ has reached a very different level in recent weeks, as he has entered high school I find myself looking back to see a young man more and more. And he has grown, too, in his willingness to share about his life and ask with real intuition about mine. I'm hoping that this last semester at home will be a great bonding one for us...the one that we look back on when we both have kids as the foundation for our adult relationships. Adult. That huge scary word that simply isn't far off anymore. Time to start paying attention to what will define it. Tour had some "new" as well. We went to the southwest and sang for about 25 members of dad's family in Albuquerque, many of whom had not ever heard the choir before. We sang for my grandpa, who may not see many more concerts. Dad and I got the chance to show the choir a part of the country that many had never seen...the strong mountains, beautiful mesas, and unique pueblos. Such a vibrant and diverse group of people, with a flavor in the food and the culture that is unmatched anywhere that I've ever been. And the tour was littered with more than the usual number of new friends. Three in particular became fast friends...people I've known for a while but never really deeply interacted with. And suddenly, under the sunset of my college carreer, it became clear that they still had a profound impact to make on me. Lengthy conversations, incredible caring, and a sometimes inexplicable compatability made me realize how much I still have to learn from those around me...and how even though I feel like a big fish in a small pond at the moment, I haven't learned everything I need to just yet.
One of the most interesting conversations that I got into while on tour was about the emotional and spiritual overtones that often come with great musical experiences. One of my friends was talking about our closing song, a simple prayer which has come to mean the world to me. It is strangely worded, but about as raw in confession as anything I've ever sung. Many of the kids had expressed that this was their favorite song of all...and several of us have felt the incredible emotion that stems from the beautiful poetry, and the understated but heartwrenching cadences. My friend noted that he really hadn't "given in" to this song yet...hadn't really been able to fully engage his emotions and just let the music take him where it would. And as I asked him why, he commented that it scared him to confuse emotion with such powerful spirituality. "Is it bad," he mused, "to come so close to profound love for Jesus because of a musical experience? Is there something too easy about letting raw emotion be what brings us to the point of confession? Shouldn't there be more?" Of course, the precedent for musicians letting notes become their god is well documented...and yet something in me screams that music can be used by God to draw us to him. I certainly believe that my own salvation rests on that hinge. And yet, his point is clear. There is a part of me that allows that emotion can too easily be what leads us to Christ. We can get swept away in our feelings of insufficency and our need for love, and in the moments when exhaustion and beauty meet, we follow because we really can't help ourselves. Is this how it is supposed to work? Shouldn't the love, the beauty, already exist between our souls and Christ, and the music just mimicks this and makes us joyful? Or can something like music, which I fully believe reflects the face of God, be what actually draws us out of our dry spells and back into the glorious light of his love?
No amount of angle-changing can help me to see how these untangible entities work together. But I do know that thinking it through was incredibly healthy. I don't want a spirituality that is inspired soley by music. And yet, as a person with passion for music in my heart, I believe that this type of truth will always play a strong role in my life. I pray that this instrument will only ever be a guide, however, and that I never attempt to use it as the very food of my salvation.
As a result of these musings, I've been trying to focus on the poem alone for the past few days, and I'll leave it with you now in the hopes that you might use it to set your heart at right at the end of a day in the future.
Jesu, since thou me made and bought
be thou my love and all my thought
and help that I may to the be brought
withouten thee I may do nought.
Jesu, since thou must do thy will
and nothing is that thee may let
with thy grace my heart fulfill
my love, and my liking, in thee is set.
Jesu, at thy will, I pray that I might be
All my heart fulfill, with perfect love to thee.
That I have done ill
Jesu forgive thou me
and suffer me never to spill
Jesu for pity, for pity.
amen.
all in all I'm not really a new year's resolution type of girl. Sure, I've done it from time to time...but I, like most Americans, rarely follow through because the change is scripted and duty bound. But every once in a while, when I have a few extra seconds around me to breathe and take in the scenery, I become aware of a change that I really WANT to make...something that I know will make me tick but that is not a part of my life for some reason or the other. It sounds silly, but blogging is one of those things. Over Christmas break I started realizing that the past semester has been the least introspective for me in quite a while. And I don't like it.
I used to blog, journal, or write letters to myself on a nearly daily basis...and it fed my soul in many ways....but somehow, this past semester I have slipped out of it. I'm an external processor for the most part, I think. Much of my best talking and thinking gets done in conversation, either with others or with a blank page. And while introspection as an entity is often viewed as something done in quiet and in private, I find that while journaling or praying helps illuminate certain aspects of my soul, other parts of my being are best illuminated by a more public introspection. I was telling mom the other day that some of the friends I'm closest to, the ones I open my heart to and spill out my thoughts, feelings, and understandings to, are valuable not just because we share so much but because they cause me to say aloud the things I hold true within myself. Without these closest of aquaintances, who love me for who I am no matter what, I migth never be able to see the schemas and frameworks that I hold true...and, as a result, I might never understand the ways that my actions are governed by these beliefs. I pray that I'll never reach a point where my actions and attitudes are not occasionally reconsidered under the light of scripture, introspection, and the voicing of these thoughts and feelings to those around me whom I trust and love. All this leads me to an invitation, which I suppose I always assumed but have never stated about this site. Cross me if you must, think with me if something I say catches you wrong. I believe that one of the great mysteries of the body of Christ is the way that we must be open and vulnerable before each other in order to grow most quickly towards Christ. If we are not open to each other, not willing to be inspected, crossed, changed in our intereactions, than we may never reap the fullness of the relationships that God places in our path. You may be only my distant accquaintance...and yet, I believe that my greatest failure would be to keep myself closed either from lazyness or fear.
Therefore, i'm resolved to start over...not necessarily because it's the new year but because I've been a bit convicted that I've allowed a piece of myself to get apathetic towards its growth. I write here, and in my journal because I know I must keep an occasional eye on the trend of my thought patterns and actions...and I speak to those of you who I love and trust because I know I need you to occasionally check me. And, straying from the deep and intentional reasons for dialoging with no one in particular, I write here so that some day I can look back and see what God brought me through. May his name always be glorified through my rants, records, and revalations.
Tomorrow marks the first day of my last semester of college. Yes, "spring 09" is upon us...that small little combo that I've been putting on forms and sign ups for years. I've picked out my last class schedule, done a degree audit, and I'm currently living in the last house I'll ever live in during my undergraduate years. I moved out of my parents house yesterday and after unpacking I realized it is very likely the last time that i will live there. In June, Lord willing, I'm off to grad school...and the chances of my moving back are slim to none. It never ceases to amaze me how the big things always sneak up on me while I'm paying attention to details. 2 days ago I returned from choir tour, where my seniority was emphasized at every turn. I'm a section leader, the tour mom, and the go-to-girl for my dad and the choir alike. It was a wonderful trip to the southwest, and one that reminded me of all of the wonderful things that I've been given through this group over the years. My salvation experience was literally a result of sitting in Dad's concert, and physically feeling for the first time, God tugging on my heart. Then there was the year that my Christmas gift was a little suitcase and I got to go with dad all by myself on tour as a 10 year old. Getting to sit in the dressing room with the girls before all the concerts, letting them do my makeup, and seeing their excitement as they finally walked on stage made my days full somehow. And dreaming about someday being one of them was something that occupied a great deal of my time. In the last 3 years, being in the choir has changed the way that I see life, beauty, and the purpose of my future. It's changed the way I view people, my understanding of the value of giving of your soul, and my ideas about art and truth. It's brought me closer to dad, closer to my christian friends in the group, closer to people who think totally opposite of me and who I would never have gotten to know. I'm so thankful for this body, and so heartbroken that starting tomorrow I won't be able to go to reahearsals any more. Physics 2 somehow takes precedent over finishing out the semester with the people and the activity that have been balm to my soul so many times. I'm a bit afraid about returning on tour this weekend for my last 3 concerts. There is no question that I will be a total mess. :)
And yet, in the midst of all the feelings of seniority, it has been a blessing to also experience some very distinct "newness" over the past 2-3 weeks. My relationship with TJ has reached a very different level in recent weeks, as he has entered high school I find myself looking back to see a young man more and more. And he has grown, too, in his willingness to share about his life and ask with real intuition about mine. I'm hoping that this last semester at home will be a great bonding one for us...the one that we look back on when we both have kids as the foundation for our adult relationships. Adult. That huge scary word that simply isn't far off anymore. Time to start paying attention to what will define it. Tour had some "new" as well. We went to the southwest and sang for about 25 members of dad's family in Albuquerque, many of whom had not ever heard the choir before. We sang for my grandpa, who may not see many more concerts. Dad and I got the chance to show the choir a part of the country that many had never seen...the strong mountains, beautiful mesas, and unique pueblos. Such a vibrant and diverse group of people, with a flavor in the food and the culture that is unmatched anywhere that I've ever been. And the tour was littered with more than the usual number of new friends. Three in particular became fast friends...people I've known for a while but never really deeply interacted with. And suddenly, under the sunset of my college carreer, it became clear that they still had a profound impact to make on me. Lengthy conversations, incredible caring, and a sometimes inexplicable compatability made me realize how much I still have to learn from those around me...and how even though I feel like a big fish in a small pond at the moment, I haven't learned everything I need to just yet.
One of the most interesting conversations that I got into while on tour was about the emotional and spiritual overtones that often come with great musical experiences. One of my friends was talking about our closing song, a simple prayer which has come to mean the world to me. It is strangely worded, but about as raw in confession as anything I've ever sung. Many of the kids had expressed that this was their favorite song of all...and several of us have felt the incredible emotion that stems from the beautiful poetry, and the understated but heartwrenching cadences. My friend noted that he really hadn't "given in" to this song yet...hadn't really been able to fully engage his emotions and just let the music take him where it would. And as I asked him why, he commented that it scared him to confuse emotion with such powerful spirituality. "Is it bad," he mused, "to come so close to profound love for Jesus because of a musical experience? Is there something too easy about letting raw emotion be what brings us to the point of confession? Shouldn't there be more?" Of course, the precedent for musicians letting notes become their god is well documented...and yet something in me screams that music can be used by God to draw us to him. I certainly believe that my own salvation rests on that hinge. And yet, his point is clear. There is a part of me that allows that emotion can too easily be what leads us to Christ. We can get swept away in our feelings of insufficency and our need for love, and in the moments when exhaustion and beauty meet, we follow because we really can't help ourselves. Is this how it is supposed to work? Shouldn't the love, the beauty, already exist between our souls and Christ, and the music just mimicks this and makes us joyful? Or can something like music, which I fully believe reflects the face of God, be what actually draws us out of our dry spells and back into the glorious light of his love?
No amount of angle-changing can help me to see how these untangible entities work together. But I do know that thinking it through was incredibly healthy. I don't want a spirituality that is inspired soley by music. And yet, as a person with passion for music in my heart, I believe that this type of truth will always play a strong role in my life. I pray that this instrument will only ever be a guide, however, and that I never attempt to use it as the very food of my salvation.
As a result of these musings, I've been trying to focus on the poem alone for the past few days, and I'll leave it with you now in the hopes that you might use it to set your heart at right at the end of a day in the future.
Jesu, since thou me made and bought
be thou my love and all my thought
and help that I may to the be brought
withouten thee I may do nought.
Jesu, since thou must do thy will
and nothing is that thee may let
with thy grace my heart fulfill
my love, and my liking, in thee is set.
Jesu, at thy will, I pray that I might be
All my heart fulfill, with perfect love to thee.
That I have done ill
Jesu forgive thou me
and suffer me never to spill
Jesu for pity, for pity.
amen.
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