why I journal

“It was a folly, with the materiality of this daily life pressing so intrusively upon me, to attempt to fling myself back into another age; or to insist on creating the semblance of a world out of airy matter, when, at every moment, the impalpable beauty of my soap-bubble was broken by the rude contact of some actual circumstance. The wiser effort would have been, to diffuse thought and imagination through the opaque substance of to-day, and thus to make it a bright transparency; to spiritualize the burden that began to weigh so heavily; to seek, resolutely, the true and indestructible value that lay hidden in the petty and wearisome incidents, and ordinary characters, with which I was now conversant. The fault was mine. The page of life that was spread out before seemed dull and common-place, only because I had not fathomed its deeper import. A better book than I shall ever write was there; leaf after leaf presenting itself to me, just as it was written out by the reality of the flitting hour, and vanishing as fast as written, only because my brain wanted the insight and my hand the cunning to transcribe it. At some future day, it may be, I shall remember a few scattered fragments and broken paragraphs, and write them down, and find the letters turn to gold upon the page.”

-Nathaniel Hawthorne, “The Custom House”

(hello, American literature. it’s nice to see you again.)

0141-0164: round two.

This week has been so hectic, and I am left feeling pretty incoherent.  But at the end, here I am.  I’m not a freshman anymore.  Instead of a myriad of introductions and events, everything new and strange, I met the dear and familiar.  Friends tackled in me on the sidewalk, in Walmart, and I never knew when I would suddenly run into another friend.  These 2 days have been spent decorating, making a home, catching up, and laughing.

Tomorrow:  First classes.  The work begins. 

But on this Sunday evening, I count my blessings:

0141:  parents willing to help me move in
0142:  EVERYTHING fit in our little Taurus.
0143:  a safe drive up to school
0144:  a fun dinner with my parents
0145:  I didn’t forget anything!
0146:  showing my parents around campus the night before moving in
0147:  introducing my parents to my friends as we all moved in
0148:  my closet is big(ger than it was last year)
0149:  I have shelves on the wall!
0150:  smaller floor space, but more storage (maybe will make for a cleaner room?)
0151:  the finishing touches on this room that make it my home.
0152:  big, big hugs
0153:  deep belly laughs
0154:  love.  so, so, so much love.
0155:  rest.  soul-rest, heart-rest, body-rest.
0156:  first Sunday back at this church
0157:  a service that always brings me to the cross
0158:  communion at His table.
0159:  bubble blisters
0160:  these girls.  every one of them. 
0161:  the way each of them makes me laugh in a different way.  each brings me a different kind of joy.  each friendship is deep & beautiful.
0162:  sunshine.
0163:  hearing how God worked in & through a friend on the domestic mission field.  great encouragement.
0164:  Because the sinless Savior died, my sinful soul is counted free / For God the Just is satisfied to look on Him & pardon me…

0124 – 0140: summer’s end.

My summer is officially waning to a close.  The explosions in the living room & my bedroom look no better…but they will soon.  My day today will be spent sorting, cleaning, grouping, counting, double-checking – and all the while, listening for the exact moment the dryer stops, so I can start a new load of laundry immediately.  Funny how I "never have anything to wear", but I have SO much laundry! 

Despite all these things – the mess and the fight against procrastination – I have had some really good days.  Here’s the best of ‘em:

0124:  a day in the woods with my freshman roommate
0125:  meeting part of her extended family
0126:  who live in a garage converted to a 2-story home.  it’s beautiful & so cool. [they are building their own actual house.  by themselves.]
0127:  she’s right – Mennonites are amazing cooks. 
0128:  eating sun-warmed blackberries right off the vine (…they grow on vines, right?)
0129:  canoeing for the first time since the Canoeing Disaster of 2008.
0130:  not falling in this time.
0131:  sore muscles afterwards
0132:  learning to skip rocks
0133:  “There was once a Velveteen Rabbit, & in the beginning he was really splendid…”
0134:  “Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin…” 
0135:   “In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines lived twelve little girls in two straight lines…”
0136:  campfire for pudgy pies (so fun to say) & s’mores.
0137:  “What people or experiences in your life so far have been most formative?” – great dinner conversation
0138:  big, big hugs
0139:  my roommate.  all of her, & everything she is.  
0140:  Thou hast bid me gaze upon Thee / & Thy beauty fills my soul, / for by Thy transforming power, /  Thou hast made me whole.

packing.

This is the week that I condense my life into cardboard boxes.  And trashbags.  And suitcases.  And anything else that will hold all my stuff. 

The living room looks like this:



(…and that’s only the beginning.)

Packing is really just one big puzzle.  Or maybe puzzles within a puzzle.  Washing all my clothes in the most efficient way.  Making sure I have everything together.  Fitting it all into as few containers as possible.  Deciding which things I need now and which can wait 3 weeks (my box of non-school books will have to wait).  Cramming as much as possible into our little Ford Taurus. 

When I arrive at school, more puzzles:  Getting all my boxes and bags into my room in as few trips as possible.  Cramming all my clothes into a closet that is inevitably too small, even for my meager wardrobe.  Keeping all my shoes in one place (not so bad if the bed is high enough).  Finding crannies for odds and ends like a miniature toolbox, a sewing kit, and zip-lock bags.  Carving out all the space I need for textbooks and binders.  Organizing my desk.   Showcasing my books and movies.  Filling those blank cinder-block walls with posters, with pictures of people and places I love, with the Words of Life.  And all this I need to do in just half of a room. 

But in the end, I’m just half of the puzzle.  There is a girl hundreds of miles away, compiling the elements that will fill the other half of that small room.  We will create a home, my roommate and I.  I can’t wait to see how our tiny puzzle-home turns out.

0108—123: summer nights & back to school

This is the week that I realized…I’m leaving for school soon.  I am looking forward to being back, to seeing my friends, getting to know my new roommate, taking challenging classes, and getting more involved in extracurriculars.  At the same time, it feels like I just got home.  And I will miss my family a lot in the weeks that I am away.
Even so, God is providing many blessings and happy memories in this time of packing and preparation:
0108:  God's peace & glory in a thunderstorm.
0109:  A few hours in a book store.
0110:  Self-control to not buy anything from the book store.
0111:  Recognizing when I am on the fast train to Burn Out
0112:  & subsequent peace about taking a lighter course load.
0113:  No damage during many thunderstorms.
0114:  A week of just mom & sister.
0115:  Dad's safe return.
0116:  Skyping with the my freshman roommate (& much laughter)

0117:  Provision to buy the clothes I need for school
0118:  Shopping is no longer a self-esteem-breaking ordeal. 
0119:  $180 coat for $38. 
0120:  An evening at the fair with my younger sister.
0121:  First funnel cake ever.  Sooo good.
0122:  A long talk walking up & down the carnival street.
0123:  Out of distress into jubilant psalm, Jesus, I come to Thee…

thunderstorms

I woke up at 5 AM yesterday morning to shouts of thunder and drumming rain.  I've never seen so many flashes of lightening all at once.  Going back to sleep was impossible now, so I thought I might as well watch the show.

The rain ran sideways, the trees bent low under the weight of the wind.  Branches leaned so close, I imagined I could reach out, touch the leaves, climb out the window, and ride the the tree.

I watched the rest of the storm from my bed, so sleepy and yet unwilling to miss this glory.  "The world is charged with the grandeur of God./It will flame out like shining from shook foil" -- isn't that how the poem goes?  I repeated that line each time lightening struck.

As I curled tighter in my bed, I remembered another night when a 12 year old girl opened that same window to watch the eye of a hurricane pass over her home.  She too wondered how it could be so light outside, and how something everyone feared and prayed against could be so beautiful.

In that moment, as in this, I felt deepest peace, because God makes thunderstorms as well as sunrises.  I used to think thunderstorms were God's grief flowing down to earth.  But these moments make me wonder if maybe...maybe sometimes...God takes delight in thunderstorms too.

[Gerard Manley Hopkins, "God's Grandeur"]

sun & rain

i am a little church(no great cathedral)
far from the splendor & squalor of hurrying cities
-i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,
i am not sorry when sun & rain make april.

When I read the phrase "little church", I see a small, white chapel.  Nothing too big or fancy.  There are wooden pews, with cushions, perhaps – no chairs.  There is a piano, keys worn from use, but still in tune.  Worn Bibles and hymnals are placed in every row.  I see a stained-glass window in the front – not a large one, not very fancy, but the colors that stream through dance on the white walls.  Light fills the room.  There are lots of windows, and no dark corners.  It's the kind of small-town church I imagine my mother grew up in.  

This image contrasts sharply against my memories of the great English cathedrals I saw this year.  They are grand, indeed.  I got dizzy from looking up so much, examining the artwork painted across vast, far-away ceilings.  I remember the intricate stonework, woodwork, the floors so nice I almost feared to tread on them.  The windows were always my favorite part – so grand, so many colors, so much light. 

When I read of the splendor juxtaposed with squalor, religious connections of the little church still lingering, I remember Westminster Abbey.  The Abbey is by no means “squalor” in the typical sense, don’t get me wrong.  It’s one of the grandest buildings I’ve ever seen in my life – but cluttered, so full.  People milling everywhere, tour guides trying to keep track of their group, talking over one another.  Impatience grows when the group in front does not move fast enough, resentment threatens when rushed past a revered place.  Every step is a step upon a grave here, a memorial stone there.  And though there are prayers every hour…the place feels far from sacred.  There is too much busy to feel the holy ground in that place.  The hustle and bustle in that Abbey reflects the rush of the city. 

And so I pray that my life would be not like a historical landmark in a large city, but like a small, sunny chapel.  A place that people can come to and say "This is home.  This is quiet and peace."

“i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest” – How I wish that that were true!  I have grown up near cities, constantly aware of the pressured value of time.  Even more aware now that I am a college student, and deadlines multiply faster than they seemed on the syllabus.  There is never, never enough time.  And yet, who can add an hour to life by wishing for just one more?  And so I pray that God would teach me to number my days & give me a heart of patient, peaceful wisdom, so that when days grow brief(est) I remember in stillness: He Who neither slumbers nor sleeps knows my needs. 

“i am not sorry when sun & rain make april.” -  This line...this line is near perfection for me.  I complain about metaphorical rain far more than literal rain, I know.  It is not as pleasant.  But both the rain & the sun are necessary for growth, for spring-sweet smell, for brilliant jewel colors, for cool breeze, for radiant sunsets, for puddle-jumping and barefoot dancing.  Everything that is worth-while and beautiful, literal or metaphorical, requires some inconvenience - some disappointment, some thunder, some fallen limbs, some flickering lights gone dark, some cold, pounding drops.  And so, much as I sometimes complain of the rain...I am not sorry for it.  I am learning to rejoice in April.  


(This post started as a series on e. e. cummings's poem "i am a little church".  Then I realized I need to do more thinking, more mulling on the rest of the poem before I can write well on it.  It's a rich, beautiful poem - if you read it, let me know what you think of it [all of it, or just sections] in the comment section!)

0096-0107: quiet.

This has been a fairly quiet week - no major struggles or ecstasies, nothing out of the ordinary - & I'm okay with that. As I enjoy these last peaceful weeks before packing & moving & everything school, I count these gifts:


0096:  mini roadtrips with my mom
0097:  the stereotypical father/daughter bonding experience known as The Parallel Parking Lesson

0098:  leaking tire & long search for air aside, the lesson went well. 

0099:  my first Chipotle burrito. {I know, I know} 

0100:  one hundred gifts counted - a heart opened to His simple mercies. 

0101:  discipline to maintain consistent Scripture reading

0102:  "As for me, I am poor & needy, but the Lord takes thought for me." {Psalm 40.17}

0103:  "The LORD is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble.  And those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O LORD, have not forsaken those who seek you." {Psalm 9.9-10} 

0104:  good Sunday morning fellowship {not such a rarity, anymore}
0105:  Jesus sees, knows, & loves.
0106:  e. e. cummings & a new life-poem 

0107:  Oh, the Saviour pleads your pardon with his blood & the Spirit blows the embers of our hearts...

the saturday evening blog post vol. 2 iss. 7

Once again, I'm joining the circle of bloggers known as the Saturday Evening Blog Post (hosted by Elizabeth Esther).  This month was a hard choice between a post commemorating my parent's 20th wedding anniversary, and the post I chose on my favorite moment of a friend's wedding (yes, I did just link to both).  I ended up choosing the friend's wedding - maybe because I think the writing is a bit better?  Maybe because that realization was just so strong for me, and I wanted to share it?  I don't know.  But I guess love is in the air this month. 

If you're so inclined, head on over to Elizabeth Esther's blog & join the circle!  Happy Saturday. :) 

promises & praise: 0082-0095

This week started well.  But then struggle spiraled downward.  
Focus...gone. 
Motivation...none. 
Prayer...inarticulate, distracted.
Scripture reading...last priority.  Even when I knew it should be my first comfort.  
Guilt...off the charts.
My soul crawled to the Lord's Table on Sunday morning.

And because God is good, faithful to His promises, abounding in grace, mercy, and steadfast love, my soul left that Table singing a new song.  And so this week, I give thanks for...  

0082:  This post by Sarah Markley on forgiveness.  ("He’d rather us hug one another, but when we can’t just bring ourselves to throw our arms around the neck of someone who has wounded us in our soul, He is there. We can fall into Him and be reconciled to one another BECAUSE of Him".  Amen & amen.)

0083:  pictures of my new baby nephew.

0084:  my younger (now taller) sister.  and her infectious giggle.

0085:  cool breeze and 80 degrees.  finally. 

0086.  a porch swing on which to enjoy #85. 

0087:  after-dark driving with my dad.

0088:  "Is anyone among you in trouble?  He should pray."  (even if all I can pray is "Father...hold me.")

0089:  "Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."

0090:  "...the Lord knows how to rescue the godly from trials..."

0091:  "The word of the LORD is upright, and all His work is done in faithfulness."

0092:  "The earth is full of the steadfast love of the LORD."

0093:  "He spoke, and it came to be; He commanded, and it stood firm."

0094: "Behold, the eye of the LORD is on those who fear Him, on those who hope in His steadfast love, that He may deliver their soul from death and keep them alive in famine."  

0095:  "My sin -- not in part, but the whole -- is nailed to the cross, & I bear it no more.  Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!"