On This Day In My History

December 16th, 2006: Rachel's memorial service, a girl that changed my life.

December 16th, 2010: Focus Leadership graduation, a semester that changed my life.

December 16th, 2011: .................

Finals Week Is Not For The Weak | An Observation

As I stepped on campus today, there was a change in the air. My first clue that something was different was that there were no parking spots in my usual lot, everyone was in class today. As I walked to my class, there was a quiet, it was the middle of the day, yet you could hear a pin drop. Students walked in ones and twos, if they dared to talk their conversations never surpassed an utter. The students walking alone seemed to carry on a conversation with themselves, no doubt repeating to themselves again and again the facts they had been learning all semester, and had spent hours deep into the night before cramming into their already over full minds. No one made eye contact as we passed one another. Like sleepwalkers we passed almost unaware. We passed the need for sleep weeks ago, and now we just operate on pure momentum, costing to the end of this last, final week.

And yet, in the midst of the clouds of information we have shrouded ourselves in, there is something else in the air, something that is calling just beyond the fortress of finals. Whispering, beckoning “You're almost here. Almost here. So, close…” can you hear it? Beyond the brick wall of scantrons, a promise, of pillows, and sleep, of mornings with no alarm, with nary an assignment due, and no text books in sight. Today the sun shown, a taste of the promised freedom. Though it is the middle of winter, the day was warm, carrying with it the scent of spring, of change, of renewed life. The old is nearly done, and the new is yet a month away. Only a few more days, a few short exams, then we will arrive, we will find a refuge, and we will be done.

Break…it’s so, very, close…I think we’re gonna make it!

Traditioooooooons! Traditions!

Thanksgiving is a time of traditions. While I was at FLI, one question we were asked in our Marriage and Family class was “what are some of your family’s traditions?” and honestly, my family is one of few traditions, which I don’t mind at all, in fact the free and easy way we would handle celebrations and holidays, without getting bogged down with a lot of traditions, often left us free to create new memories and unique, once upon a time experiences. Not to say we were totally devoid of traditions, we have our handful of short-term traditions, the ones that hang around for a few years before they fizzle out due to forgetfulness. But as far as the rock solid, “Fiddler on the Roof” style traditions, not so much.

I don’t mind this tradition of non-traditions, but when the question was asked last year, it got me thinking, what are some of my own personal traditions? What are some things that I do, even just by myself, that might one day meld into the traditions of my future family?

Well, this month, I had begun one, and another was not meant to be a tradition, but this year I turned it into a tradition. And I’d like to try to keep them both…at least for a while.

Emily Padgett. Good things.

The first tradition, the one I started this year, was on November 11. As I’m sure you’re aware of, this year was a once in a lifetime date of 11-11-11, a wishing day! So at 11:00 pm, eight of us gathered around the clock tower at my school, and tied slips of paper with our wishes to helium balloons, then as 11:11 struck, we launched our balloons, sending away our wishes into the starry sky!

I loved this even so much, that I’ve decided to continue it, and now I look forward to next November 11^th, at 11:11 pm, when I will again launch my wishes to the sky! Would you care to join me?

The other tradition, you could say began last year, though I didn’t think I would make it into a tradition until I chose to continue it this year. Last Thanksgiving, after my friend Annalee and I had our Thanksgiving supper at Denny’s (because it’s always open according to Tim Allen in “The Santa Clause”), we returned to my apartment and watched “The Santa Clause” while eating a tube of cookie dough.

This Thanksgiving, I realized that my grandma (who I’m living with) owns that movie, so of course, I bought myself a tube of chocolate chip cookie dough, and settled myself in front of the television to watch Tim Allen as he masters the art of being Santa. Shall this tradition continue next year? I certainly hope so!

And so, as I grow up, and begin to find myself creating a new life for myself, not quite separate from my family, though not quite adjoined either, I will continue to create these little traditions, though I’m sure I can promise I will have my own handful of non-traditions as well.

:-)

P.S. while I was writing this post, I was talking with my sister, and she mentioned these as her favorite “traditions” my family keeps pertaining to Christmas, the next major, tradition-packed holiday.

Getting sick – Apparently we always get sick on Christmas? I don’t remember this one…

Christmas in the car – Last Christmas, the 25^th was on a Saturday. Because of the way the day fell and the way Dads work schedule was, the parents wanted us to drive up to Michigan the day after Christmas. However, we kids wanted to be at church to see all our friends by Sunday, so we talked Mom and Dad into celebrating “Christmas in the Car”. We could open presents, watch Christmas movies, listen to Christmas music…how great! Well, we ended up just celebrating on Christmas Eve, then just sleeping the whole way to Michigan. But it was the thought that counts, right?

Playing Ketchup

Due to my over full schedule, I’m going to give this long overdue update in just five minutes (for my owns memory sake, if you don’t understand it, I apologize :-) (p.s. today one of my profs said “make sure you’re up to date on your reading so you don’t have to play catch-up...hence, the title…yeah, my brain is fried)

Ready? Go!

Mid-August in Maryland woke up 6:00am covered in HIVES! So I didn’t get my early start on the road as I had to take a shower.

Hour later got on the road, took a nap after 2 hours, and then booked the rest of the 8 hours to get to Jessie’s house before rush hour hit. Drove like Detroit in the city (felt good to drive with real drivers again! Sorry MD) and got to Jessie’s and crashed (to sleep, not my car. Ruby performed admirably and faithfully…we didn’t get lost once!)

Next day picked up Emmy and we headed to GR. First half of the week in GR, head back to Detroit. Second half of the week Detroit, Frisbee, beach, church picnic. Emmy fly back to MD, I drive back to GR.

Orientation week at Cornerstone. Terra firma group: Cobalt! Make some new friends (all freshmen…I’m old) beach, baseball, tours, worship, etc.

Classes start! Drop Minorities (if you don’t want me to stereotype you, don’t stereotype me) pick up Wellness (yes, ok, I need to exercise, better when I’m forced to) psych, intro to social work, econ, old test lit. Drop econ (too much! Too much!)

Job! Cold Stone Creamery (ice cream, people, singing? Yes please!) Love it.

Commuting. Its tough – 7am waking up in the morning, gotta be fresh gotta go upstairs, gotta be cool gotta have my cereal (in my cool to go cup) and my spinach smoothie (cuz it’s healthy) gotta get out to my car yeah, gotta get to class…I see my friends! Sitting in the front row, sleeping in the back row, gotta make my mind up, which test should I pass?

Don’t get home till after 11 most nights. Sleep is a myth.

Church is wonderful. So blessed to see my friends and camp family every week. Spend time with a few of my girls, and more to see (someday)

Courageous! Friends came up from the D to see it with me, then Jessie and I went downtown (found $3 parking!!!) checked out Art Prize and did the Improv Everywhere MP3 Experiment! Dream. Come. True.

Weather is lovely today and I am determined to get ahead in at least one class so I can better prioritize.

My head hurts most of the time, and I feel as if life is the big dog on the end of the leash. (Once when I was about 6, I was walking my uncle’s dog, Jake. He was a good dog, but something excited him and he took off running, literally dragging me behind…I was wearing my favorite dress.) That’s how I feel my life is right now: life is the dog, excitedly running ahead, chasing something in the distance, and I’m the little girl being dragged behind. Ideally, I would be the one in charge; I am holding the leash after all, right? But truly, I have no choice but to be dragged wherever the dog-life takes me, and breathlessly hope I can maintain my hold.

This dog of life is picking up speed! I hope the thing he’s chasing is God! (thought I guess I do have control over that decision)

That was 20 minutes…did ya catch (ketch) any of that?

Where’s Yours?

Several days ago, one of my Focus classmates, Andrew, posted a picture on our Facebook page of his book bag. Amongst the thick, college volumes, was the blue, metal water bottle each of us was given upon our arrival at FLI. These water bottles were icons of our semester there; several always sat scattered across the classroom tables, or poked out of back packs, rolled around cars, and rested on kitchen counters. We were told throughout the semester of the dangers of dehydration, and were reminded on a daily basis that being in higher elevation led to quicker dehydration. We would joke among ourselves that a bottle of water would cure any aliment, chanting the phrase our professors said to us day after day: “drink more water.” Tired? Drink more water. Hungry? Drink more water. Confused? Drink more water. And on it went.

The caption that accompanied Andrews photo read, “Where’s yours?” Since that picture, several of us have snapped photos of our own water bottles, in prominent places in our rooms, work place, or daily lives, adding our own caption of “Where’s yours?” It’s been fun to see where people have chosen to place this reminder and how it coincides so well with each personality.

But looking at these pictures has got me thinking. How many other “Where’s yours?” type things should we keep in a prominent place, but instead we hide away, whether on accident or by choice. Things that deserve a place of high recognition and respect. Things that we should have out to remind us of the important things in life.

What about our faith? If someone were to come up to me and show me their faith, then ask me “where’s yours?” what would I tell them? What would my proverbial photo of my faith reveal? Would it be boldly displayed in a place of honor in my life, where it could be seen and witnessed by others? Or would it be hidden away in a dark box shoved deep under my bed, where it would be safe, but unseen?

I am proud of the condition of my FLI water bottle. If you were to see it, you would notice that it is covered in scratches, blue paint has been scraped off to reveal silver metal. Dents are scattered across the surface caused by the many times I’d dropped it. True, my bottle is not in prime condition, but that’s why I love it. I do not begrudge a single imperfection of that bottle, because each and every scratch and dent tells of the times I dropped it while I was hiking up a mountain, or exploring Pikes Peak, or climbing at Garden of the Gods. Those times when thirst consumed me, and I relied on the water inside the bottle to sustain me.

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t life or death experiences, but even so, I love the fact that my bottle has been covered with battle wounds, it tells the story of my time in Colorado.

But what about my faith? If someone could see my faith, would they see a faith covered in nicks and scratches? Bearing the results of intense battle and use? Or would they see a faith in pristine condition, glossy and smooth, shining perfection…and little used?

In Matthew, Jesus says,

“Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.”

When I was given my water bottle on that first day, I thought to myself, “Cool! I was needing one of these.” At this point I could have placed my brand new, shiny, blue bottle back in its box and tucked it under my bed. But that would be useless, and the bottle would be no good to me. Instead I used the bottle every day, dutifully following the orders to “drink more water.” I carried it with me literally everywhere I went, and even though it went through some difficult situations, it has been of good use to me.

I hope it is the same when it comes to my faith. I don’t want to “hide it under a bushel” no. I want to let it shine. Even if that means that it’s going to hurt, and even if that means that I’ll receive some battle wounds. I hope that in life, I will boldly display my faith for all to see, and that they would praise my Father in Heaven.

If asked “Where’s yours?” when it comes to my faith, I want to answer, “here it is” with confidence. This light of mine may be little, and it may be scratched and dented, but I’m gonna let it shine! And Soli Deo Gloria! (to God alone be the glory)

My water bottle, carabinered to my Cornerstone backpack, on the back of my car/home

This Year is Different

Today I realized something.

For the four semesters I was at community college, I would tape a picture to the cover of my notebook. Each semester a new notebook, but the same picture, laminated and covered in packing tape, tattered around the edges and slightly faded. It was a picture that had hung on my bedroom walls all through high school. It was my motivation. This picture was of several students smiling chilly smiles, dressed head to toe in winter gear. Bold words ran across the picture “Faith can move mountains…come practice with us in the Rockies.” It was an advertisement for Focus on the Family Institute (now Focus Leadership Institute) that I had clipped out of a magazine. It was to remind me.

Everyday, I would think to myself “why am I even here? I hate the teachers, I hate the homework, I’m sick of the foul language spinning around me. Why cant I just quit?” then I would look at my notebook, place my hand on those smiling faces, and remember. In order to achieve my dream and attend the Institute, I had to finish those first two years of college. It was hard, some day’s it really hurt. But I made it.

This year I don’t need a picture of strangers to tape to my notebook, because I have countless pictures and memories of friends, brothers and sisters, to remind me.

This year I don’t need to picture to help me make it though the school year, but I do need the memory to help me continue straight forward, to not only get through the day, but to strive to apply the things I learned about God, myself and others in this new school.

This year I have been equipped.

This year, I begin again.

What pictures will I fill my notebook cover with next?

...and these are just a few...

Future Falling

I’m on the brink of jumping. The cliffs edge is beginning to crumble under my feet. I look down and the great expanse below. Going deeper and deeper and deeper. The wind blows in my face, taunting me with the secrets it carries from the unknown below. Secrets of my future. I gulp and heave a deep breath. I look back for a moment and wonder; what would happen if I just, don’t, step? I would be safe. But I would not be happy. I look back down. Down, down, forever down. Will I be happy there? I look up. The sky is blue, deep, bright blue. The sunshine warms my face and whispers hope. A hope that will not disappoint. A hope that is already won. I close my eyes, breath in the sun-warmed air, and slowly lean forward. I feel the pebbles crumble beneath my bare toes. I stretch my arms out on either side, hands open, fingers spread wide, stroking the soft air as I bend forward. Slow motion. And suddenly, my feet find air. I am falling.

This is how I feel about my life right now. I don’t know what to expect. I thought I was getting used to that, but then again, God obviously isn’t done with me yet, and He always brings the unexpected. But the unexpected is not necessarily a comfortable place to be, in fact I hope it never is. Because if it were comfortable, then I wouldn't be unexpected.

It’s been almost a year since I headed out to Colorado to go to Focus Leadership Institute.

Almost.

One.

Year.

That fact didn’t break my heart till just now, as I was sitting here thinking about the future that will unfold for me tomorrow as I start classes at Cornerstone University. After writing that bit about the cliff, just free writing, I read a new post on my friend, and FLI classmate, Meg's blog. She talked about her first day of classes, and how her she was missing FLI. As I read, the thought hit me: this aint no Colorado, and the people I meet tomorrow aint no FLI classmates. But I’m here. And this is where I belong, God has made that clear. And being here, was so unexpected.

One year ago, I thought I would be studying radio.

One year ago, I thought I was someone else.

One year ago, I was on another cliffs edge, running, like they do in cartoons, right off the edge without even realizing it until I was about ten feet into the air, then suddenly standing still, looking down, finally aware I was off the edge. And not till then did I start falling.

And look where I landed!

I cant begin to know what will happen in my life these next months. I can barely grasp my hopes of what my life will be. But I have faith that God does, and He is the author and finisher of that faith. So I will continue on this leap of faith, and I will trust fall right into the arms of the One who always catches me.

Deep breath.

And here I go…