Seasons.

(Written at the end of August, 2010)

This season of my life has been so strange. When you live by yourself and come home to… well, yourself there are so many conversations you have in your own head. There are so many more chances to think, wonder, analyze and dream because there aren’t constantly other conversations being had- out loud. Some people may say to this: I’ve lived by myself for years. After awhile there’s nothing too strange about it anymore. And that’s just it. It’s not strange anymore for me.

I grew up in a family of 6 people. Beyond that, these 6 people all were very tall, lively, funny and present. I remember locking the door to my bedroom growing up (even though my sister shared the room with me) just to retreat to a quiet place to think, write in my journal, or just be. I went straight from a life surrounded by the busyness and bustle of a brady-bunch home to the constantly moving lifestyle of a big college- and not just any college- ASU. I still remember the look on my dad’s face when he found out my next door neighbors were four, rowdy, freshman boys. He still says that his real prayer life started the day I was left at ASU. People would come and go, lives would blend, and everything was shared; space, showers, swigs of milk, always in a constant rotation. I’m sure if I had taped my life as a college freshman for just one day and watched it now- the sheer speed of my life would seem impossibly foreign.

I had roommates all my life until my new roommate became the man I married. I was constantly surrounded, conversing, and just in the presence of other people. Other stories. Other heartbeats.


Now I live the oddest life of a single newlywed. I brush my teeth using one sink and will occasionally glance over at the sink next to mine, pristinely white and unused. I get dressed in a closet half-full of perfectly-pressed men’s dress shirts and wonder if I should just throw one on with a belt and some leggings so they don’t get jealous of the girly side of the closet. I pass countless pictures and photo books revealing the man that once occupied this space with me and wish I could be transported back into those still frames- like the chalk drawings in Mary Poppins. I go through my day and see so many faces I love. I work, converse, problem solve, encourage. I hurry, explain, learn new things, and pray a lot and when the garage door slowly goes up after a people-packed day in ministry, I park my car right down the middle and scoop up my day full of water bottles, receipts and contact info and shuffle into the house.  In that split second as I smell the faintly lingering new-house smell, I try my hardest to remember what it was like to be greeted when I came home. There’s no sharing of space, showers, or swigs of milk and suddenly my own thoughts become extraordinarily audible. 

I’ve found, in those painfully quiet moments, I am greeted by an equal force of fear and peace- each rushing in on me from both sides, giving new, personal meaning to the words spiritual warfare. On the fear side my thoughts are in a frenzy: questioning, confused, hurt and alone. But the peace side brings out a version of myself I’ve come to love very much.  Someone confident- more in God than in herself, someone wise enough to block out the noise of the evil one, and someone persistently looking for ways to bring more color into this wonderful dance called life. I love the days when I choose peace, when I choose God, when I choose color because those days are the ones worth writing about.

And even though I’m tired, I’m often sad, and when I go to sleep at night I only take half of the décor pillows off of our king-size bed, I kind of love this season because it is exactly that. A season. A season that has stretched me, lengthening spiritual muscles I didn’t even know I had. A season that has forced me to deal with some of my deepest fears head-on. A season I’ve learned the value of still… of quiet… of being. And a season wrapped up in so many failures that have shaped me into the woman God has created me to be at 24. But it is a season. Temporary and almost done.

Since this has been written, Austin has come home. His sink has been used, his shirts have been worn, I’ve been greeted when I step foot inside our house, and all of our bedroom décor pillows now sleep on the floor. Thank you God for seasons. For the current becoming the past, for the future becoming the current, and for being a current, faithful God.

theories

I have a lot of theories about life. From big, important things like God to trivial but still fun things like the best cookie recipe in the world… I have spent twenty-five years formulating, testing, thinking-I-am-perfecting, and letting others in on my theories— the things I believe make life beautiful, meaningful, a little more understandable.

Allow me to share a few that have been heavily on my heart during this season of life:

~ Love Jesus. Because he is perfect. His arms are strong enough to hold our burdens and his heart is big enough to love the messiness we have created in our own. And because he never changes. I change, my tastes changes, the weather changes, emotions change, styles change, everything else around me changes. But not my Savior. There is no other person, no other love I could plant the roots of my life in but the perfect thing that never changes.

~ Keep in touch. Because friends are not just important, they are essential; and it is entirely too easy to forget that the world does not spin around you and your life, but around God and his story. Call her, don’t wait for her to call you. Fight the urge to think you are more important than anyone else. Entitlement, resentment, pride, and look-at-me-point-of-views are dangerous things and serve only to keep us struggling instead of loving. Write a note, send a text, start fresh.

~ Take slow walks. The pace of life can be blinding sometimes. We work, meet, do business, pay bills, join groups, head to the gym, plan events, cook meals, watch tv, and a fill our days with a million other things. Slow down and walk in the fresh air. Give yourself a few minutes to just move the miracle that is your body in a rhythmic, comfortable pace, and thank God for creating you with every detail that he made; including the legs you think are too short, the arms you think are too big, and the skin you wish was just a little more clear. Think about all the things you do with your hands, all the things you carry with your arms, all the places you go with your legs, and the encouraging things you say to others with your mouth and hear from others with your ears. Take a deep breath, and smile because you are exactly who you are supposed to be, and God loves every detail that adds up to you.

~ Forgive. You are not perfect, they are not perfect, and there is absolutely nothing in the world God cannot fix. Forgiveness does not hinge on anything other than the grace of Jesus, which is there no matter what wrong was done to you. You were forgiven well beyond what you will ever need to forgive another person for… really, you were and are. Wake up and thank God for the cross and see how that changes your reaction to other people. Forgive the person who cut you off in traffic and the waiter who messed up your order. Forgive the person in your life who has hurt you the most. Forgive yourself for doing all of these to other people every day. Forgive often and without expecting anything in return.

~ Read. Because words are powerful, and some of the greatest and most beautiful things ever spoken are permanent because they were written down. Read these things. Memoirs and fiction and magazine articles and newspapers. Read and agree, read and disagree, read and learn, read and discuss. Challenge your mind and broaden your perspective, see the world in more dimensions than you did yesterday. I think God wants us to pursue to the best of our ability an understanding of the complexities we live in and see around us every day. So buy the Barnes and Noble membership, get a library card, and fill your bookshelf with all the words you can.

~ Never be satisfied with your humility. We could never out-humble Jesus, and yet the humble are the ones he will make more like him—which is what we should all be wanting anyway, right? The humility paradox is something I believe we should wrestle with every day: put others before yourself, use your God-given abilities to make the world better, have the confidence that God wants you to love him through your actions and work in the world, and yet never be satisfied that you’ve done a good enough job to merit his blessing. We don’t deserve his love, he just gives it to us. So be grateful and accept it and let it motivate you to passionately love this broken world; but please, don’t believe you’ve earned it. You are special and loved and cared for, but no more so than any other person in the world. Without Jesus right next to us, without him willing to stand before the father on our behalf, we all look exactly the same. Let humility be the defining characteristic of your life.

~ Remember your theories on life are just that: theories. I love the definition of a theory—a coherent group of general propositions used as principles of explanation; contemplation or conjecture; a guess or speculation. If you start thinking that everything you believe or feel about life is anything more than your best attempt at a theory, you are likely over-estimating your ability and under-estimating the ability of others. We can always be learning, always be gleaning some lesson from what we see, hear, experience and discuss. Let your theories be moldable, malleable, flexible. Our theories on life will shape the way we live every day, so give them room to mature and grow with you.

~ There is one exception to my theory on theories. God is big, Jesus is alive and real, the Holy Spirit dwells within each of us, and the Bible is the perfect, true, breathing word of God. These things remain true in a world that fights against them relentlessly, they are the only theories that get the distinction of fact. But I have found that the more I try to understand life, culture, other people and purpose, the more I need those facts. I cannot make sense of anything else if God is not our Creator and if Jesus did not do what he said he came to do.

My prayer for you is that every theory you ever have stems from the Truth, the only Truth. And don't waste your definitions on God, he has always been too big for them.