Not Perfect, But Right

I admit it. I become way too emotionally attached to inanimate objects.

The latest? My Christmas tree.

I knew I wanted it when I saw it. It was so skinny. It wasn't perfect. But it was adorable. When I brought it out of the dim light that the tree tent provided and into the real light, I could see that it had a bare spot on its side. In fact, it looked a little ragged. But I still wanted it. I wanted it even more because I knew that no one else would want it. I mean, I saw the other trees that people were picking--tall, sturdy, voluptuous trees--trees with no bare spots. I even heard someone say to a different customer, "good choice, you picked a great one--no holes in this one."

I saw my little tree standing in line, (okay, being held up by a person) waiting to be bagged in mesh-y stuff. It looked so tiny and frail--and I am telling you, I seriously felt protective of my tree. I was so glad that I was going to be able to take it home and give it a home. I wanted it to feel special. (I know I know, it doesn't have feelings. But can you really be sure..) I wanted to tell my tree that it would no longer be just another tree (and a scrawny one at that) in a tent of large, perfect, fluffy trees. I wanted to reassure it that it was going to have a real home. 

There are enough people who want the beautiful trees. I wanted the tree that no one else was going to pick.

Waiting (or, Way Too Many Commas Used) Part I

And so, here I am. Again. During this season of Advent--during this season of waiting.

I read this article at Relevant magazine (online) yesterday, about the season of Advent, and I just felt God speak to my heart in a way that he hasn't in a while--and thus was born this (long--and probably quite confusing) stream of consciousness. 

Now, before I say anything else, I want to say that this is going to be a little bit more serious (and 100x longer) than the other things I have written. But it is something that I need to write, if only for myself.

Advent. A season of waiting, of longing, of expectation...of preparation. Now, I am not a new Christian, but honestly, it wasn't until last year that I began to look past the simple act of lighting a candle each week in church and truly began understand the deeply personal nature of Advent, and its relevance today, in my life.

Last year at this time I was (tentatively) preparing to go to Italy for four months. And when I say tentatively, I mean tentatively. I honestly did not know if I would be able to go. I didn't know if God even wanted me to go. I was hoping, longing, waiting...and wondering. (Sorry for all the W's. I'm not trying to be all cutesy, I promise.) But I was wondering if this longing, this hope, this anticipation was all in vain. It was during this time last year that this season of Advent became deeply personal. (As you may or may not know, I did go to Italy)

And now I am back to another December. Another Advent, and perhaps not ironically, another season of waiting. Maybe it is no accident where I am emotionally, spiritually, and physically. The questions I ask myself during the times when my trust and my faith in God are being tested are not just  "do I really believe this? Do I really believe he is going to come through?" but, how deeply in my heart do I believe it. Do I decide to play it safe--to keep some of the cards in my hand just in case the whole "God thing" doesn't work out or just in case God doesn't come through this time...or do I believe him enough to lay all my cards on the table--and to risk my sanity in the process (sometimes trying to trust God feels so abstract and it confuses the heck out of me). Following Christ isn't something new to me, but I am feeling my faith in God being stretched in a deeper way than I have experienced before. And it is Uncomfortable. And hard. Maybe it is not so much if I believe in God, but to what extent am I going to believe him.

Going back to Advent... The longing. The hope. I feel afraid to hope. I am afraid these longings will never be fulfilled. I am feeling the pull of the drudgery of the mundane. I feel like I am hoping for something...waiting for something that is about to happen and then everything is going to be so clear. Then, all these feelings that have completely surrounded me this whole semester will make sense, when God comes and makes sense of it all. When he comes and pulls back the curtain and says, "see Lauren, I told you that you did not need to doubt me. I never left you. I am always with you...you just will not always see what is unfolding until it has unfolded." I think the cry of my heart is probably very similar to the cries from the hearts of the people waiting for their messiah to come, 2,000 years ago: When will he come?. Will he comes. We've been waiting so long...is his redemption actually coming? For us? For me. Here. Now. In the mundane that has been tugging on me. Is there a hope? Is there a Hope coming? Here? Now?

"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known" (1 Cor. 13:12) Then I will see. Then I will understand. Then I won't doubt. Then I will believe. But right now I am at here. And I can't wait till I arrive at then, to believe that God is who he says he is and that he will do what he says he will do.

Waiting (or, Still Way too Many Commas Used) Part II

Advent means coming. This is the season of coming and also the season of arrival. A season where we recognize that Christ came and redeemed us not just from our sins by dying on the cross, but redeemed us, redeemed me from the drudgery of life that can overtake us at times. (This will all makes more sense if you read the article I talked about.) Have you have ever felt the pull of drudgery that can quietly snuff the real life out of your spirit? (Okay, that definitely sounded a tad dramatic...) Believe me, I love routine just as much as the next person--probably more. Routine is good for us as humans...it gives our lives a sense of rhythm and consistency. But the mundane is different from routine. The mundane is where your days begin to slide into one another and they all begin to feel the same. Then at some point, something will prick your memory about a time before you felt that way, and all the sudden you begin to wonder what happened to the joy you once had in simply living life. If you've never experienced that, then perhaps you've got it all together and you have no need of Christ. Personally, I am in absolute desperate need of a redeemer. I continually need God to prick me, spiritually.

I am feeling in need of this season of Advent in a place so deep in my spirit. Cynicism has begun to take root in my spirit. When you are disappointed enough...you begin to believe that everything will disappoint you. You begin to believe that nothing will be good and pure like you believed when you were a child.

So again this year I am waiting. Waiting for the redemption I need so desperately and wondering if it is going to come. I am longing for what I believe is just around the corner...yet I am afraid that once I get to that corner, there won't be anything there. I am afraid to hope. Afraid to be disappointed. Afraid, perhaps, that Christ won't do what he has promised. Afraid the promises will fall short. Afraid He won't deliver.

Again, the thing that strikes me about Advent is that the heart of my cry is the same as the cries throughout all of history. Will he come? When will he come? The Jewish people must have wondered if their hope was in vain. They all stood on one side of the promise. They believed in the promise of a savior. Yet many of them never lived to see the promise fulfilled. I, however, live on the other side of that promise. I have seen the fulfillment of the promise of a deliverer. 

But sometimes it feels like God keeps me out in the cold too long. He is with me in the cold...but it is still dang cold, you know? I am afraid one of these times I am going to let go. Going to give up. I can understand God not showing me his hand of cards. I understand this is a life of faith. I understand and expect my faith to be stretched. Yet...yet sometimes I wonder how far God plans to stretch me before assuring me in some tangible way that he is still moving in my life. The fact that God "won't give us more than we can handle" doesn't comfort me much. I have seen what God thinks people can handle--death, disease, destruction, desolation. It is not just an alliteration. It is what many face. I face none of those, in actuality. The point is, God apparently think/knows we can handle a butt load. And here I am complaining that God isn't doing what I want him to do.Typical American Christian.

Will I take God at his word, before I see the fulfillment of his promises?

Oh, and I told you I used an excessive amount of commas.You knew what you were getting into. (In to? Into? Should that be one word or two?)

November Shots

Camping

Carli and Adam

Senny Luu

Crazy Chris

Niece, Lucy ( 2 1/2 months-ish)

Niece, Mikayla

Me and Lucy Luce

Sister

Bro, Mikey D.

It is good to be four years old.

The Post That Wasn't

“Maybe I don’t like being different,” Meg said. “but I don’t want to be like everybody else, either.” (A Wrinkle In Time)

You have no idea how dramatic I want to be about my life right now.

Be glad that I am trying to be mature and not go all "teen angst" on you...even though I am not a teenager anyway--but who says, "20-something angst"?

On a side note, I am always confused about where punctuation marks go. Inside or outside of quotation marks?

Yes, so instead of going all angst-y on you, you are getting a post about how I am not going to be super emotional. You see, I have the foresight to know that in hindsight whatever I would write right now would sound so stupid a year from now, no matter how oh-so-serious it "feels" in the moment. Heck, it would sound stupid tomorrow morning.

Aware

You know how when you buy a new car you suddenly begin to see "your car" everywhere? And you begin to think that everyone is driving "your car".

I think I have heard/read at least three different stories about adoption this week. It seems that everywhere I turn, I find another story about adoption. I don't know if it is because I have been thinking about it a lot the past week and so my eyes and ears are just noticing a few stories, or if I am actually encountering an odd amount of "adoption-ness" for one week. Maybe a mixture of both.

Yes, I am adopted. Kidding. I had actually always wished growing up that I was adopted. Unfortunately, all us kid's births were videotaped--which, as a child, was both disturbing and slightly dream-crushing. Okay, it is definitely still disturbing.

When we were younger, every once in a while our family would watch home videos. We would all be laughing about how cute we were and how crazy so and so's hair was...then we would run into "a birth". Seeing as how there are five of us, this happened fairly often in our home videos. An awkward silence would fall over us as we would slowly trickle out of the room until the labor was over or until someone had the sense to fast forward through the video.

Confessions

Radio Confession Part I:

I have had K92 FM pre-programed into my car radio for three weeks. All I know is that my boyfriend left me so I jumped into my truck with my dog and drank a beer. (No, I don't have a boyfriend, truck, or dog. Or beer. At the moment.)

Actually, this whole country music thing happened in a moment of weakness.

My ipod's battery was dead.

It was a beautiful fall day.

...and if I heard one more Lady GaGa/Justin Bieber/Taylor Swift song my ears were going to start bleeding. Or I would scream. Or I would scream while my ears bled.

Radio Confession part II.

K92 replaced Z88.3 in my car's pre-programed stations.

I am not sure if the confession is that I had previously actually had Z88.3 programed into my car radio, or that I replaced Z88.3 with K92.

Love?

There are people in this world who are not loved.

Children...babies...who aren't loved or cared for. It breaks my heart.

I have been loved so well, so completely, my whole life. Loved by family, friends, and the Lord.
I keep asking myself, why have I been given so much love? What is the point of it all?

The point, I think, is to give it away. Because as I said, there are unloved people in this world.

People of any age who are not loved or care for always hurt my heart. But it tears my heart out and takes my breath away when I see images, hear stories, or realize the reality that there are children who are not hugged...babies who are not held and kissed and rocked to sleep. Seeing lonely and vulnerable people of any age often makes me sad. But children and babies... They are just so easy to love. You don't need words. You just need hands and arms. And a heart.

I have been loved well not so I can continually bask in it, but so that I can go and love those who have not been so fortunate. How are we to love others if we have not been loved ourselves?

I am only able to love because Christ has loved me first. Perhaps the people who I am supposed to love will vary throughout my life. That goes along with what I have been learning... God's purpose in/for my life will look like different things at different times in my life. I need to stop trying to put what (I think) God's desire for my life is, in a box. I need to stop thinking I know "the one thing" he wants me to do. Because there isn't one thing. Sure, there is one general calling that we have as followers of Christ. But that is not what I am talking about.

The thing is...I have no idea what my life is going to look like or be like. I have no idea where I will live or who I will live with. I have no idea what I will do or with who I will do it with. I don't know where I will go and who will be going with me.

It scares me so much. I just want to be in control. But I am not...gosh I hate it sometimes--okay, pretty much all the time.

Sorry to all my non-existent readers for the semi-pointless post.

Random Thoughts on Evangelism (or, Hopefully Not As Boring As It Sounds)

"Nearly 7000 people went through Scaremare this weekend. Over 1000 people committed their lives to Christ! That is something to rejoice in."

(A facebook comment from a friend of mine)

I have such mixed feelings about these sort of things. My first thought is, "oh good, we scared 1000 people into committing their lives to Christ...that's the way to get it done, my friends!" (Sarcasm)

It's like when I go to Cranes Roost to run, and see a person holding out a track to a couple and overhear them saying, "can I give you a 30 second quiz on whether you will go to heaven or hell?"

Or when someone hands me a track and I say, "I am actually already a Christian" and they say, "take it anyway". I completely understand that "being a Christian" doesn't mean the same thing to everybody...there are many many "Christians". But what if someone had tried to engage me in a conversation not a conversion? What if someone had started a dialogue? What if they had taken the time to say, "Why don't you tell me what being a Christian means to you, personally?". Instead I get a track (re)shoved in my hands.

But my second thought, especially with handing out tracks, is that at least they were doing/saying something. And that is more than can be said for me, many times. Does that kind of evangelism really turn people off? Or does it, albeit perhaps subconsciously, raise/plant thoughts and questions in people's minds?

While I was in Italy, at times I did what felt (to my ever-so-sensitive-and-scared-to-feel-uncomfortable-American-self) some types of evangelism that, well, made me a little uncomfortable--more, in-your-face types. (Not really in their face, just a lot of "putting yourself out there" with strangers.)

By the end of my time in Italy I had formed relationships with Italians, and my words about Christ to them meant so much more to me, because I cared about them as individuals-- not about converting them, per se. I wanted them to know Christ because I cared about them and wanted them to see the hope and redemption that Christ can bring into their lives. I definitely think people can tell when someone has an agenda. Don't we all more openly (and trustingly?) listen to people's words when we know that they are coming from the heart of someone who genuinely cares for us and not from someone who is trying to win an argument or make a point?

I think there are so people who truly have a heart for "the lost"--(hello Christian-ism!) and don't need to spend months building relationships to care deeply about someone's salvation. In fact I would say that the two girls I worked with in Italy were like that. Me...not so much.

Anyways, these are just my mixed thoughts and feelings on the subject.

Luce, LuLu, Lu...

Lucy Renee Shaw

Sweetest thing in the whole world. Seriously. I could hold her for hours. Actually, I have been known to hold her for close to two hours...

The funniest thing is that Lucy makes the same faces as Jenny. It is so cute and cracks me up. I never think newborns look like anything/anyone other than red. (You know I am telling the truth...newborns are not very cute.) But this little girl is adorable. No. How dare you call me biased.

I feel like I have a lot to live up to. All of my sister's children are beautiful. Like, beyond normal cuteness. What if my kids aren't cute? What if they are kind of...ugly?

I'll cross that road when I come to it.

9/24/10

"Since no one is perfect, it follows that all great deeds have been accomplished out of imperfection. Yet they were accomplished, somehow, all the same."
– Lois McMaster Bujold

Bella Giornata

Udine, Italy.

That is where my heart has been all week.

And yet, I have so enjoyed this week, here. In Florida. Doing what I am doing. Getting up at 5AM. Driving to school while it is still dark and then watching the sun rise. (Clarification: I do not drive to school that early to watch the sun rise. That is just how it works out.) Anyways. Being present. Feeling the day. Living in the day. I used to watch the sun rise over the mountains from my kitchen window in Udine, while I made coffee in the morning. God would always get at my heart with the beauty of each morning. I longed so much to be able to open my arms to the day that was before me.

I feel so blessed. God is so faithful. Life is so good. I don't mean perfect. It's not perfect. Perfection is not the goal. The goal isn't to never have a bad day. The goal is to enjoy the good ones. The goal is to appreciate each day for what it is. The goal is to be able to open my heart to God and to life and to the people around me. Did you hear me? The goal isn't perfection.

Gasp.

Gulp.

Listen, sometimes you just have to let go. Sometimes you just have to stop thinking about it so much and just live your gosh darn life!

When you're pursuing God with an earnest spirit, I believe that these things are going to work out, because God is working them out. You don't (I don't) need to think about this so much. Trusting God isn't about figuring it out and then "resting in God". Trusting God is about resting (not being anxious about your life) because you know in your heart that God is in control even (especially) when you can't figure it out.

So. Let it go. Just go live your life. Stop thinking about everything so much. Stop worrying about how it will all work out or if things will ever change. Are you earnestly pursuing God? Then chill out, he has you. If you're not pursuing God, chill out. He has you....(But...start pursuing him.)

And yes. I know the last three paragraphs were pretty much me repeating the exact same sentence over and over again. But you see, people like me need people who will repeat the same three words three times over. (i.e. "let it go") Also, I do know that you aren't supposed to start a sentence with "and". Deal, friends. Deal.

my sister, Jenny (her husband Jeremiah took these beautiful pictures)
My adorable nephew, Aiden
Pretty, little sis, Ashley
Lovely friend, Senny
Sister, Megan (mom to Aiden, Mikayla, and wife to Chris-- pictured below)
Me and my sweet friend Carli. We had quite a few laughs over our party--(which we decided to change to "eating outside together with friends on a Saturday") thingymajig. Love her so much. Oh, and holy crap it was hot! Dear sweet Florida...my three year plan to finish school here and move far far away might change to a three week plan if fall doesn't come quickly.

Sticky Word Sunday

...Words that stuck with me throughout the week.

But first I just want to apologize (to all my non-existent readers out there) that so many of my posts are just a sentence or two long. Okay, glad I got that off my chest.

Earlier this week I was leaving a store and walking back to my car. When I got to my car, a truck had just pulled in next to my car and out hopped three young girls and their dad. I saw one the younger of the three girls looking at my car for a minute, then when she saw me walking up to it, she looked at me and said, "I like your car!"

This might sound dumb...but I just thought it was the sweetest thing in the world. It was such a small thing, and yet she made my day. Some little 10 year old girl out there thinks my dinky little gold Saturn is cool.

True Story

Today after working out I bought a diet coke. Liquid of champions, my friends. But my arm muscles were so tired from lifting weights that I couldn't open the bottle cap. Consequently, I had to stare longingly at the cold diet coke in my hands for a full 30 seconds before I could work up the strength to twist the cap off.

I Get to the Point In Paragraph Three

I have always enjoyed listening to things as I fall asleep. When I was a kid, (okay...so until I was about 16) I loved listening to "Adventures in Odyssey". I remember being so thankful when the cassette player would automatically play the second side of the tape after the first side ended. There would be the comforting "click-click-click" of the cassette player preparing to play the second side...and then you knew you wouldn't have to climb out of bed to flip over the tape. High tech, baby.

Lately I have been trying to go to bed earlier and it has been taking me hours to fall asleep. I am not even sure if you can call it falling asleep. It is more me forcing my body into sleep (which doesn't work). Part of why I can't fall asleep is because I can't stop thinking. So I just lay in bed and think. And think. And figure out my next day. Then my week. Then I attempt to figure out my life. Not even joking. It drives me crazy. Consequently, I have begun listening to podcasts to help me fall asleep. Listening to something takes my mind off whatever I would be thinking to death/dissecting into a million pieces, and then I can usually fall asleep.

The point of me even beginning to talk about this is that I have been finding some hilarious and entertaining podcasts.

-Wait Wait Don't Tell Me (From NPR). It's just so good. I have often found myself laughing into my pillow when listening.

-The Food Network Humor Podcast. Okay, this will probably only be funny if you are more than slightly familiar with the Food Network channel and the hosts of the shows. Basically this is a podcast that makes fun of the cooks, their quirks, and their recipes (in a totally good natured way). As I said, this isn't for everyone. But it is a gem.

-This American Life (also from NPR). One of the reviews I read for this podcast was almost as good as the podcast itself. "...You'll start out the hour laughing (perhaps harder than you've ever laughed at a public radio show) but inevitably and seamlessly, in a completely unconscious manner your emotions will be turned inside out and you will end the hour sobbing in your car in the Target parking lot you've been parked in for the last 40 minutes. And sometimes you won't even know why you're crying, all you'll know is that some sort of emotional release is needed before reintegrating yourself into the outside world." I laughed just reading the review. Perhaps because I have absolutely sat in my car for a prolonged period of time, wanting to hear the conclusion of a story from A Prairie Home Companion or when listening to Car Talk (and needing to know just why Susie's truck is making that clunking noise). Or perhaps because I often have to hide both my laughter and my tears from the people in the vehicles around me, who can see through my-totally-not-tinted-one-tiny-little-bit-windows of my car, and probably think I am a crazy/unstable woman who shouldn't be driving. Either way, the first episode I listened to ("Rest Stop") produced silent pillow laughter, three tears, and a warm, "this is why I love Americans...because we are so dang weird" feeling in my heart as I (finally) fell asleep.

Wow. Kudos to you if actually you persevered through those last two sentences. Double kudos if you understood a word of what I said.

JT (Joke Time. Duh)

What is the one animal that will never tell you the truth?

A lion.

Yep. Totally came up with that. May or may not be kind of proud of myself.

Showers, Girl Power, and Family Matters

Okay, so maybe that didn't rhyme as well as I was hoping it would.

Today was my sister's (Jenny's) baby shower (Baby shower number 2!). It was so special and a lot of fun. She is due in just two weeks! I care so much for the little girl already, mostly just because I love Jenny so much and she is part of Jenny. Baby Shaw (whose name is a secret but I actually know what it is, because Jeremiah said it when I was around..) is going to have two amazing parents. I am kind of jealous of the little girl.

My sister Megan took me home from the shower, and we ended up talking about what else...(no, not babies) but love. Falling in love. Being in love. Oh, and me turning 21. You know, all that fun lovey-dovey girl stuff that I rarely allow myself to talk about because I often think it is kind of dumb/pointless. But sometimes you just have to let it out with a sister, you know? And those times are just so darn uplifting and relaxing. Almost like chocolate. Almost.

Meg has two kids and told us a couple weeks ago that she is expecting a third child! I feel like my family is getting really big, really fast. In the past 4 years we have added six people (okay, two of those six aren't born yet, but still). Now we have my mom and dad, Michael, Megan+Chris, (Mikayla, Aiden + third child-to-be) Jenny+Jeremiah,(Baby Shaw/Little Girl) Me, and Ashley.

There are days when it is hard having so many people around, because at times I feel lost in a crowd when I am with my own family. Sometimes people don't notice when you aren't there (or when you are there..not sure which is worse) because there are eight other people talking/laughing/singing and two kids crying/giggling/running around. Yet other times, being part of a big family is the sweetest thing (for the very same reasons) and feels like such a great blessing. I know I have three best friends for the rest of my life in my sisters. And I have two brother-in-laws who are incredibly artistic, musical and creative (well, my sisters are those things as well). And my brother Michael is just so dang smart, successful, adventurous, and committed to God.

I realize that I am feeling a little mushy/gooshy/slooshy (whatever that means) about my family today. It's okay though. I'm allowed to brag about my family every once in a while, right?

AAA

Oh wait, that's who you call when you lock your keys in your car. I meant AA.

"I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be." (Groucho Marx)

Okay. So that quote definitely sounds like it belongs in group therapy: "Repeat after me--I, not events..." Dear Lord.

And no, I have no idea who Groucho Marx is. However, I am pretty sure he could blame his parents for his unhappiness. Who names their child "Groucho"?

Such is Life

You know what makes me feel great? When I do what it is I know I need to do. The stuff I hate. The hard stuff. The uncomfortable stuff. When I sit down and DO it.

I feel better for doing the hard stuff afterward, than if I had never had to do the hard stuff in the first place. Is that weird?

I think I feel so much better after because it is ultimately about obeying God--doing, in the "small" ways, the things he has put in front of me to do. And when I do it, I am not just doing the hard stuff...I am obeying Him.

AlmondJoy Candy Pieces...

...was (were? It was a single bag but it contained multiple pieces?) the only candy that I brought from home to Italy. I remember the night that I opened the bag...

Dana and I were sitting in our room late one night, talking, doing stuff on our computers. And I decided we needed a little chocolate lovin'. And what binds girls together more than the breaking of bread--or, chocolate? So I opened the bag and Dana and I laughed at how a simple thing like chocolate could make a person feel so much better, so much more at home, so much more...relaxed and content. I remember Dana laying on her bed, under a mound of blankets and me under my blankets. This was probably the first week of us being in Italy and our Florida blood was in a kind of "cold shock". Our toes were continually numb that first month and a half--yes, especially when in our apartment. (Our apartment was like an ice box! Actually, that was its nick-name..."The Ice Box".) But that night, while sharing the chocolate, our hearts connected over such a simple thing. Oh how I miss Dana.

Well today I bought another bag of those AlmondJoy pieces. They definitely tasted better when being shared with a friend, in a freezing room, with frozen toes, far away from home, in a town called Udine, in Italy.

How do we make these moments last?
And How do we get them to stay?
When everything passes and time goes away...
-Rosie Thomas

Missing Dana
Missing Italy
Realizing how little time in the past two weeks I have spent with God. It shows.

By the way, that is a picture I took of a street in Udine where I would walk almost every single day. And that is me and my Italian boyfriend holding hands and walking. Or not.

Common Ground

I am learning that friendships, at least at this point in my life, are not something that happen automatically. I have to "work", or put effort into maintaining, growing, and deepening them. I need relationships desperately, and I am realizing that I must be intentional in pursuing these friendships.

For most (normal) people that is probably a "well duh" moment. Oops. Sorry, I am a little behind the bandwagon.