keep careful watch of my brother's souls

I'm assuming that everyone at this point has heard the terrible news that Robin Williams was found dead in his home yesterday. A million people will write about this tragedy in similar fashions I am sure, but for whatever reason this particular celebrity death has really struck me and I just need to write about it.

After the news broke yesterday it seemed everybody on on Facebook and Twitter posted something expressing shock and grief, which I think is totally appropriate. Robin Williams was an icon who crossed so many genres that nearly everyone can recall seeing (and for the most part, loving) him in some particular role. From Aladdin's genie to Mrs. Doubtfire to Peter Pan to "O Captain, my captain," the references and recollections are endless.

While it's easy to remember his fun and funny roles, Williams' resume also included characters who dealt with very real and difficult circumstances. As hard as it is for me to process that a man who (in the public eye, of course) seemed so funny and easy-going could be suffering so much that he chose to end his own life, it is even harder for me to understand that action from the man in Dead Poet's Society, Good Will Hunting, and What Dreams May Come, a man whose characters dealt with the despair and tragedy of mental illness, abuse and the effects of suicide.

I recognize how that comes off as a very unfair statement. Robin Williams was not his characters, and we as the general public obviously did not know him or his personal life and what he was dealing with. The point of this post is not to judge Robin Williams for what he did. Rather, it is to express an incredible sadness that a man who was beloved around the world and across generations, a man who touched the lives of millions in portraying characters who dealt with this very situation, would feel so lost that he saw no other way but death. That, though he had not only money and fame, but a family who loved him and, one would assume, some level of awareness of the impact his vocation had on the world, would choose to die by his own hand.

Depression and mental illness is a messy, confusing and controversial topic and, again, I am under no illusions that I am saying anything that won't be said by a hundred other people. But I just can't stop thinking about this. Because part of the reason that depression/mental illness is such a messy, confusing and controversial topic is that it is so varied. Everyone's experience is different. It is not something we can quantify. Diagnosis and treatment is more objective than other illnesses.  And because of that, it's incredibly hard for the general public to form consistent opinions on what is "right" or "good" in talking about and dealing with the problem.

I have some close friends who have struggled with depression of varying levels, including such depression that leads to self-harm. In those experiences, I have wrestled with empathy. As much as I can sympathize with those friends, for their situations, for their pain, I cannot empathize with them. I cannot put myself in their shoes. Even at my darkest, dealing with my pain by harming myself has never seemed a viable option. Just as those of us who are not addicts will never be able to understand the compulsion of addiction, those of us who do not suffer from mental illnesses such as depression cannot comprehend the struggle of those afflicted. We just can't.

The point to all this? There is one, I think. For me it's a reminder that I need. I need to remember that depression is an incredible foe and a reality for many people, whether it is obvious or not, whether it "makes sense" or not, whether I understand it or not. And I need to be a part of the solution to the stigma surrounding depression and mental illness, by being an approachable, safe and informed resource should I encounter someone who is suffering in that way. The battle that our peers wage within their own minds and bodies is terrible enough without the additional weight of judgment from the world around them.

I can't find a sense of closure for this post. No way to end it neatly.
Perhaps that's fitting.

The National Suicide Prevention Hotline number is 1-800-273-8255.

where we've been, where we're going.

 It's been almost two years since I started this blog. I will be the very first to say that it hasn't been very consistent in regards to time between updates or content or... anything. I started it mostly as a way to update friends and family about our whereabouts/plans without resorting to obnoxiously long Facebook posts.

I hope I'll continue to blog [and get better at it, too] in the future, as I enjoy writing and sharing things on this kind of platform. But today as I'm enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon and writing my first real post since March [oops], I'm thinking about the past. More specifically, about the journey of the last two years of our lives and Drew's ordination process, and the end that is in sight for this particular time in our lives.

Two years ago I wrote about a significant change in our plans that included moving to South Carolina and bringing ordination a year closer.  I wrote about my thankfulness for our community, even as I wrote about home and missing my family. We finished our time in Durham, saying goodbye to that place and those fabulous people as we said hello to a new state, new school and a new community.

Our first five months in Columbia included me working in 4 different offices and Drew being approved for ordination. February brought snow, but more importantly, regional and synodical assignment, and thus finding out where God and the Church was calling us to serve.

And now, it's August again, and that "inevitably sweltering summer day" of packing a truck that seemed so far away in February is on the immediate horizon, because the whole first-call thing that we've been talking about for so long is no longer a thing of the future, but a thing of the present.

Post by Drew Tucker.

So, we are packing for our third move in three years and are incredibly excited about the new place and people we have been called to. And though we're reaching one finish line, there are many new adventures beginning as we become first time home owners [yikes!] in addition to starting full-time ministry at a new church and on a new college campus. You know. Nbd.

[x]

Wilderness

I've been doing a photo challenge for Lent, and the word for today is wilderness. As I thought about what picture to take, I ended up with a whole bunch of thoughts about the word and its use in Scripture and the way we talk about our spiritual lives. My journal entry for the day is a hot mess of all of those thoughts, and I thought perhaps blogging about it would help me make more sense of it. As I've written and rewritten sentences and paragraphs several times over, I'm not sure about it making more sense. But let's give it a go anyway.

 

When we talk about being "in the wilderness" in our spiritual lives, I think we're often thinking about that last definition: "a position of disfavor." There are times we feel lost, wandering aimlessly, out of favor with the world or even with God. We call it the wilderness. If we are self aware enough, we know that there are lessons to be learned and growth that needs to happen. But, let's be honest, our prayer in those times is to be led to the other side of the wilderness, to reach a land that is safe, fruitful, and familiar. Being in the wilderness is something we look to be delivered from, not to dwell in.

In the sermons/teachings about wilderness that I can recall, most have made use of the story in the New Testament about Jesus' time in the wilderness, as told in Matthew 4. After Jesus was baptized by John, Jesus goes into the wilderness, where He fasted and was tempted. We seek to relate to this story about Jesus when we're feeling "in the wilderness" ourselves. We look for comfort it in, whether it's in holding onto the idea that our Lord knows what we're feeling, or trusting that our time in the wilderness will come to an end, as His did. And that's good and fine, I think. But in my own self-reflection, I'm feeling that this isn't the best wilderness story to which we can relate.

In the Old Testament, we read that the Israelites were made to wander in the wilderness for 40 years before entering the promised land. In fact, while the English name for the book of Numbers comes from the censuses that are recorded within the story, the Hebrew name for the book is translated "In the Wilderness," because it documents the peoples wanderings. To make a long story short, after being freed from Egypt and seeing many miraculous signs from God, the people still doubted and sinned against God. And so, the people were punished to wander in the desert until an entire generation had passed away before they could go to the place which God had prepared for them.

There are things about my wrestling with this word and these scriptures today that are complicated, and some things that are very simple. The truth of the matter is, I would like to believe my time in the wilderness is akin to the New Testament story, when, in fact, it is much more like the Old Testament one.

Let me back up. See, the difficulty I've always had with Jesus' story is the part about the Spirit. "Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil," Matthew says. Jesus goes from hearing the Father speak over Him and the Spirit descending on Him, to being utterly alone in a desolate place, physically weakened and encountering the enemy. The Spirit actually led Him into that place of struggle. My problem has always been in hating that Jesus had done nothing wrong, and still had to wander in that way. It is probably [read: most definitely] ridiculous to dwell on that when, you know, that is true of His entire time on this planet. But it still always gives me pause.

On the other hand, the Israelites made their own bed. They complained and argued and did, like, exactly the opposite of what God told them to do. They were freed from their bondage, delivered from their enemy, literally fed from the heavens, and still they broke every promise they made. And so, they wandered. And, you know, that makes more sense to me.

What's convicting me? I am the Israelites. Much of my wanderings are consequences of my actions, my sin. I have no doubt that the Spirit leads me, that there is testing, growth and refinement in the midst of struggle. But I am not blameless. I cannot pretend that the wilderness is something I've been unfairly led into. As much as I'd prefer to shirk responsibility, the truth is that every time I choose my anger, pride, or selfish desires over the love, humility and compassion that Christ asks of me, I create the uninhabitable place through which I must then walk.

This could end quite depressingly, but it won't. Because in 40 years of wandering in the desert, but the Israelites were never alone. On the contrary, God continued to struggle with them, providing for them, fighting for them, and eventually bringing them to the place God had promised them.

Because despite how fantastically I make mistakes, Jesus is quite fantastic at forgiving them.

And so, we pray.

This time last week we were counting down the hours until we would receive our regional assignment. Drew was in Texas when he got the call, and I was at work, so this is how I found out:

So that's it, folks. Looks like the Tuckers are gonna be southerners for a few more years :)

And with that question answered, there are a million more to ask. But last night we gathered with Drew's fellow seniors and worshipped and prayed together as we marked this important step in a process which, though at times has seemed never-ending, is in fact drawing to a close. And it was another beautiful reminder of this fantastic community that we have found ourselves so graciously welcomed into this year.  I can so vividly remember the anxiety that plagued me when our plans suddenly changed to include a year here in Columbia, but I am so grateful for the time we've had here.

And so, with that unnecessary but at the same time very necessary reminder that God is in fact taking care of us in every way, it's incredibly exciting to pray for Drew and his classmates, and to dream about the months to come and everything they will bring.

So, go ahead of us, Lord, as winter turns into spring, as midterms turn into finals, as the to-do lists are marked off and syllabi are completed. Because despite how much is still left to be done, this semester will end and a new adventure awaits.

Give us patience, Spirit, when we would rather wish away the days and weeks, ready to be done with everything that comes with being a student. Because education, let alone an advanced degree, is a privilege denied to many, and there will not often be the opportunity to learn at this level once this time is over.

Watch over us, Father, in conversations with Bishops and Synod Offices, in phone calls with call committees, in the nerves that come with interviews and the uncertainty in decision making. Because the process can be stressful, the responsibility daunting, and on our own we can't possibly hope to know what to do.

Thank you, God, for synod staff who look out for us, for families and friends praying for us, for peers who can celebrate and commiserate with us. Because it is within the Body of Christ that we see, hear and know You in new and exciting ways.

Be with us always, Jesus, and especially now. As we close this chapter and begin a new one. In the final all-nighters of studying and days in the classroom. In shared meals and time with friends that have become dear. As paperwork is distributed and calls are extended. As boxes are packed and moving trucks rented. As we say goodbye to this place, and hello to something new.

For peace when there is anxiety, focus when things just need to get done, wisdom in conversation, discernment in the process, joy in the moment, love in community, and a cool breeze on the inevitably sweltering summer day when we once again pack our life into a truck trailer and drive away, we pray.

And You hear our prayer.

Seven

Coming to the end of my second snow day of 2014.
And I have another one tomorrow.
Yep. Snow day. From work. In South Carolina.

The world is a crazy place.

The blog has once again been forsaken the past month due to life happening outside of the world wide web. But two snow days in a row means I have some free time! So, since I'm sure you're wondering what's been on my mind for the past month, it's mostly been this:

Regional Assignment is in 7 days. 7 DAYS PEOPLE!

The beginning of the end. It seems like we've been waiting forever for this ordination process to come to completion, but now that the end is upon us, it's almost startling.  Regional assignment first, then we'll get a synod placement, and then (Lord willing) at some point this summer, we'll find a call and Drew will be ordained.

Ordination

Ok, probably [hopefully] not, but it's still funny :P

In light of this impending [life-altering yet completely out of our control] decision, we've been thinking a lot about where we'll be in 6 months. It seems that our two most likely options are either back in Ohio, or in the Carolinas. In general, we've been pretty back and forth about where we would like to end up. Ohio would mean being closer to both our families. But, we have fallen in love with the Carolinas. Plus, the temperatures in Ohio the past month have been consistently in the negatives. Which is gross. So this is definitely not a time of the year that I want to think about being back up there. But alas, it is not up to us. And we are excited for whatever comes wherever we end up being assigned.

So, yeah. 7 days.

Not freaking out. Not freaking out. Maybe freaking out a little.

This and that, and other things as well

Sometimes I get into these phases where I'm motivated to write/create and share said creations with the internet.

Other times I suddenly feel like I have nothing to say and don't want to share anything with anybody, so I start a bunch of things and never finish them.

Such was the latter half of 2013 on this blog.

But today is a slow day at work, I have a bunch of thoughts swimming around in my head, and just enough motivation to put some words together. Huzzah!

Because... well why not?

Let's start with summing up 2013:

- Part of my hiatus from blogging is because I changed jobs in November! I've been working through a temp agency here in Columbia since I moved here over the summer, and in November my "temp-to-hire" position at the law office turned into "unfortunately, just a temp" position. So two weeks before Thanksgiving, I was suddenly job searching again. Super fun, let me tell you. But, God is good, as is my temp agency, and I was unemployed only 2 days before accepting a new position where I have been working ever since! Thus, I went from being a receptionist at a law firm, where I mostly did nothing for most of the time, to working customer service for a retail company during the busiest shopping month of the year. 

And now, a PSA from a Customer Service representative:

As I have just survived my first holiday season as a retail customer service person, I would like to share with you an observation that isn't very profound but that everyone should understand:

 Most companies are not Amazon/Apple/giant corporations with unlimited resources and employees: 

Support small businesses! It's great! But understand that being a small business means that they don't necessarily have 24-hour customer service, or hundreds of employees filling orders, or the ability to get you what you want the day after you order it. And yelling at whoever answers the 800 number you found on their website won't change that. In addition, said person on the Customer Service line probably had nothing to do with whatever mistake was made on your order, nor do they have any control over the Postal Service/UPS. Just so you know.

I feel you, Michel. I feel you.

But seriously, I'm really enjoying my new job. The office is full of fabulous people, I do enjoy being busy and learning new things, and many of the customers I talk to are very nice. Plus (shameless plug) some of the stuff they sell is super cute. Check it out.

- Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years were spent with family. So many loved ones, never enough time, but it was such a blessing to get to see everyone. Especially our dear little ones.

And now, it's 2014:

- This is the year folks. This year, Drew finishes school [for now] and [if everything goes according to plan] will be ordained. The qualifiers are simply because the Lord likes to laugh at our plans, and saying anything definitively makes me nervous ;) But seriously, it's happening. All these things we've been talking about for the past 4+ years are finally coming to fruition. Drew has been approved, the draft for our regional placement will happen next month, synod assignment will happen after that, and in a few months time, Drew should be interviewing at churches. And then this will be our life.

THE FIRST THING ANYONE EVER SAYS 
TO A TWENTY-SOMETHING PASTOR

- Lastly, today is our 2nd Staniversary. Yep, we're pathetic adorable.
But seriously, this guy.

Today, as we celebrate having this cutie in our family for 2 years, I am once again thankful for the wonderful people who found him as a puppy and cared for him until we adopted him. And I'm grateful for the people all over the country who have stepped up this week to find shelter for strays in the places that are experiencing such terrible weather.


There it is. The blog has made it to a new year. Happy 2014, y'all :)

Marvel and Frozen crossover. For reasons.
From here.

How do I pray today?

As the morning paper, CNN.com, and your social networking sites can attest, something big is happening in Washington. As a Christian it seems fitting to pray. I'm sure pastors around the country are calling their congregations to prayer this morning. We are a people who believe in a God who hears our prayers, and right now our country could clearly use some divine intervention.

But the reflection that this morning's news has necessitated in me has forced me, once again, to admit the sad truth that I am woefully ignorant of [a great many things, including] the vast majority of the problems our government is dealing with, and the ways in which the government functions [or, is supposed to function] in order to deal with these problems.

I don't know how to pray about this shutdown because I just don't know what's going on.

I've never been interested in politics or government. We didn't have political debates around the dinner table growing up. Living at Duke alongside some very opinionated and intelligent students encouraged me to be a little more socially aware; marrying into a family which is also very opinionated and willing to have conversations about all those opinions has taught me that healthy discourse is possible. But I will not delude myself into thinking that I am as informed as I should be about what is happening in our country today. The only way I know how to"help" is to join my prayers with the Body of Christ across the country, but I am finding that I'm not sure how to even do that.

How do we pray when it is hard to get a clear understanding of what's going on? Who's to blame- the Democrats? Republicans? The President? Which media outlet or political analyst is telling us the truth? Is there such a thing as "truth" in this situation? Is there a way for this to be resolved, or will any solution just be a band-aid, holding us over until the next crisis? Is our current system sustainable? What about healthcare, which side is right about that?

These questions overwhelm me. But this morning, I'm thinking about this desire to know the "truth" before I pray, and wondering what that's all about. It seems that I am afraid that being uninformed will lead to petitioning God incorrectly, or something to that effect. That, unless I've formed an intelligent opinion, my prayers are worthless. But I'm pretty positive that is not how it works. And, if I am a person who believes in a God who hears my prayers, and that our country needs some divine intervention, praying is exactly what I should be doing right now. Praying not only for resolution in the government, but also that God's people would rise to the occasion in this time of crisis, to be informed and help serve those suffering the consequences of this shutdown, and of the brokenness of our system in general.

:: I may not know who is to blame for this shutdown, or really if blame can be appropriated to one person or set of people, but I know that, to find resolution, there needs to be a softening of hearts and minds and a willingness to listen and compromise. And so I pray for the members of the House and the Senate, that they may be convicted to listen to one another in an attempt to find resolution that will benefit the people of this country, even if they disagree with parts of it.

:: I may not know all the ins and outs led to this shutdown, but I know that there are some 800,000+ people today who suddenly don't have a paycheck, and that's a terrible feeling. And so I pray that the Church would rally around those individuals and families, to provide for them when and where there is need. Also, that we would remember the millions of other people who have been without jobs prior to today, and that we would not abandon them and forget their needs in the midst of a culture with a terribly short attention span.

:: I will never know the immense difficulty and responsibility that lays on the President's shoulders, but I know that, whether you agree or vehemently disagree with anything/everything he has done, he was elected into this position and now must bear the weight of that responsibility. And so I pray for an abundant portion of God's wisdom to be upon him. That he would mediate, listen, direct, and compromise. That he would seek always to do good and serve in his position to the best of his ability.

:: I definitely do not know the "truth" about healthcare reform, if either side is right, or what the ramifications of the legislation will be, but I do know people who are sick and cannot get health insurance, who are caught in a spiral of medical debt for which there is no foreseeable end. And so, as I long for a day when there is no more sickness or brokenness of body or mind, I pray for a system that will better serve the masses of people who are currently unable to get the health coverage that I have been so fortunate to have throughout my life. And I pray that the Body of Christ would rise up to serve and speak for those persons, that we would not be content to sit by idly when so many people who are made in the image of God are suffering and do not have the power or resources to find help and be made whole again.

:: I may never be able to figure out what's really happening in Washington, whose opinion can be trusted, what the long-term consequences of whatever law or policy being debated will be, but I know that God knows. And so I pray that even, and especially, in the midst of situations that I do not understand and cannot control, I would still pray and trust that God listens.

Hear us, O God.
Your mercy is great.

those words are not enough

1) The Fault in Our Stars, from here. 2) From here. 3) From here. 4) Switchfoot, from here. 5) From here. 6&7) From here. 8) From here. 9) From here. 10) From here. 11) From here. 12) From here. 13) From here. 14) From here. 15) From here. 16) From here. 17) Switchfoot, from here. 18) From here.

Someone find me a cellist

Yesterday I asked my supervisor if I could start playing a classical Pandora station at my desk. I'm in a front office, mostly by myself, and the quiet was starting to get to me. She graciously obliged, and so I've been enjoying the likes of Mozart and Bach and Debussy. Pandora is quickly adapting to my love of all the stringed instruments, and every time a piece performed by a cello comes on I reaffirm my desire to find a good cellist to keep around at all times. Seriously. What a beautiful instrument.

Nothing really important to say about this, except that after just 8 or so hours of listening to classical music, I find myself missing the piano. And my dad. Can't really listen to classical music and not think about Dad. I'm grateful for parents who encouraged me to be musical, who found me good teachers and wouldn't let me quit on a whim. And for my Dad and his genuine love and appreciation of music, from the Beatles to Chopin. That kind of passion is a wonderful gift to share with your kids.

That's all I've got today. Love for the cello and for Dad. 

Happy Friday :)

Saying Goodbye

Despite the cool, rainy day here in Columbia, it is in fact the middle of August. Drew is attending orientation events today at Southern, and his classes start on Monday. I knew the summer would go by quickly as it always does, but I still can't believe we're nearing the end of it.

We are finally settling into this place. Drew (the wonderful nerd that he is) is incredibly excited about getting back into the classroom. I've been working my new job for a week now and am enjoying it. We're making great friends within this community of students. A year after accepting (somewhat begrudgingly) that we would have to move to Columbia, I am happy that we are here and excited for what the year will bring.

But change, even good change, must allow for some mourning for what has been lost. So, for just for a few moments, I'm going to let myself be sad. Because Drew's day full of orientation meetings has reminded me again that, for the first time in four years, we are not anticipating the arrival of our students and another year at Duke.

As if the experience of Duke Divinity wasn't enough, Drew's jobs in RLHS and Religious Life made the 2+ years we spent together in Durham quite an adventure. Better still, those jobs allowed us to work alongside fantastic staff people, and serving/ministering to a wide variety of students. I [almost always] enjoyed living in Bell Tower with the freshman, watching as they found their way in their new setting and figuring out what would shape their time at Duke. Working closer with the undergrads who were our RAs was better still. But our time serving the Duke Lutherans is what sticks out most. They are what made Duke so special. They are why I didn't want to leave. They are what I'm letting myself be sad about today.

It's not that things were always great, that every event was successful and everyone always got along. None of that. It was a group of imperfect people, from all over the country and the world, with different interests, opinions and career paths. But we laughed together. We worshiped, ate, cried, traveled, argued, sang and served together. It was an incredible blessing to get to know these undergrad and graduate students, to learn about their lives, to watch them persevere through academic and personal trials, to count them as friends.

So, to each of you, I want to say thank you. Thank you for sharing your lives and your time at Duke with me. For the Sunday night worship and dinners, conversations in the lounge, retreats, mission trips, holiday meals, facebook banter and movie nights. And, probably most importantly, thank you for the role you have played in our lives and our ministry in the church. Whether you know it or not, our time with you has been crucial in our continued discernment about Drew's call to ministry, and I am so grateful for your support and affirmation of him.

As your last days of summer wind down and you finish up the variety of crazy exciting things you've been doing over the past couple months, know that you are in our thoughts and prayers as you head back to Duke. It was an absolute privilege to be with you these past two years, and I am sad to say goodbye. But I look forward to stalking following your year on social media, to seeing how you continue to grow and work together as a group with new leadership and direction, fueled by love for God and one another. Because, as some guy a couple months ago reminded us, "Love is the only thing that makes new beginnings out of endings."

Sometimes you forget to blog for a month...

Welp... it's August now.

How'd that happen?

July was full of travel and family and exciting things, which was awesome. But now I am happy to say that I am staying put in Columbia for awhile. And that Drew will be here for good tomorrow. AND that I've found a full-time job here as a receptionist at a law firm. Boom! I'm so glad to be done with the application/interview process. Definitely not my favorite thing. It is weird/intimidating to be the new girl at the office, but everyone is really nice, and I think that I'll be able to enjoy myself.

August means the start of classes, and we will for sure be missing our Dukies, but I'm excited for the official start to our Lutheran year and all of the craziness that involves. We've met some great people here and I'm excited about the community we will form while we are here. And as fast as this summer has gone by, I know that the spring and all the changes that come with that will be here in a flash.

But as for the lost month, I still can't believe it's over. Our nephew was baptized, Brother Bear got MARRIED! I got to spend a night at Camp Findley, and see a lot of family. It was an exhausting and amazing couple of weeks. Of course the camera got left in Drew's car, which is why I haven't posted any pictures yet (sorry Mom!) but in the meantime, I do have this one :)

My baby cousin is cuter than yours :P

Happy Monday!

I once was blind...

I’ve had a draft of this started since February, but I just never got around to writing it. I suppose that’s convenient for me, not writing the post that might be more revealing than I want it to be. But really, I think I flatter myself to think too many people actually care what I have to say. And, in general, I shouldn’t let fear of embarrassment stop me from expressing something that God’s put on my heart.

So…

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about high school: who I was, what I did, who I was with. I don’t think I’m the only one who thinks back to those adolescent years and feels embarrassed about one thing or another. But, it isn’t the normal things that are making me blush. It isn’t the incredibly wrong answer in class, or the awkward conversation with an upper classman, or line-dancing in gym class stuck on repeat in my mind. No, in my mind, the thing about my high school self I am most embarrassed about is the way I lived my faith.

I was a good kid. I don’t say that to flatter myself or to be self-righteous, it’s just the truth. I had good parents, and when it came to the stuff that really mattered, I listened to them. I went to church and I liked it. I didn’t party because I didn’t want to.  I was respectful to my teachers, and I tried to be nice to people. In general, people knew I was a Christian. I didn’t go around handing tracts out or anything, but it’s not something I hid. And that was fine; I wasn’t embarrassed about my faith. I had a lot of friends who shared my beliefs, and those who didn’t believe the same way I did never made me feel inferior.

What’s the problem then, you ask?

I once was blind… but I thought I could see.

High schoolers think they know everything, when in fact they know very little. This is a truth generally accepted by everybody who is not in high school. I was no exception, especially when it came to religion.

And while there is something valuable about being sure of one’s faith, so that it can withstand trials and doubts cast by the world, there is something incredibly dangerous about being so sure that you understand something that you have no business thinking you understand.

In my fairly perfect high school world, God fit into a neat little box, wrapped in a bow of all the Sunday school lessons, youth conventions, and Christian books I read. I knew the way the world was supposed to work; I had all the clichés under my belt. I may not have always been brave enough to “witness” to non-Christians, but when I did I was sure I knew the God whom I was sharing. I could work my way through a debate on any number of hot topics, carefully spouting the words of those whom I had read or heard and believed because they seemed trustworthy.

I don’t want to be too hard on my high school self. She was a product of her circumstances. She didn’t have all the experiences I can now draw upon. She didn’t know any better. And I’m not saying that everything I was taught about God as a child was wrong. On the contrary, the foundation of my faith comes from my childhood and I am so grateful for the people who introduced me to Jesus. The problem with High School Michelle is that she didn’t know there was anything different than what she had seen, heard, and experienced.

I once was blind… and now I know it.

When I left high school, things changed. I met people whose worlds’ were completely different than mine. I found new people to disciple me who were intelligent and faithful but believed different things than I had been taught, and even sometimes disagreed with each other. I learned that it was okay to question ideas that I thought were undeniable truths. I discovered that God is so much bigger than my high school self ever fathomed, and that His grace reaches so much farther than I ever let it before.

Again the question arises: “What’s your problem, Michelle?” I’m not the only person who changed after high school. I can’t be the only one who cringes when thinking about the things I believed and the way I acted as a teenager.

Yet, I’m still embarrassed about High School Michelle. Embarrassed because I was ignorant about the world and about God, but arrogant enough to think I knew everything about both.

I don’t know what my high school peers remember about me or about my faith, but I so strongly hope that they have had a better witness of Christ’s love in their lives than what I was when they knew me. That when they think about Christianity, my naïve 17-year-old self is not the example that comes first to mind. I may not have gone around verbally condemning people for their sins, but the limits my ignorance put on God’s love for His creation are so heartbreakingly clear to me when I think about it now. I’m sad to think about how my self-assuredness may have turned people away from God, because the religion I was demonstrating did not account for the realities of their lives.

I’m not looking for a pat on the back, or reassurance that “It’s okay, it wasn’t really that bad.” I can admit my shortcomings because I know God is big enough to overcome the faults of High School Michelle. And honestly, most of the people I feel I did wrong by will never see this. That’s okay. I still wanted to share it, if for no other reason than to humble myself a bit, and then to finally get over it.

I once was blind… but now I see? I don’t know, I still feel pretty blind most of the time. But I know that now. I’ll admit to my blindness, and trust that Jesus is restoring my sight. Slowly, but surely.

That week in Chicago

So much life has happened in the last month. I've started several posts at different times to update y'all on our life and what is happening, but they always fell by the wayside.

And now, as I sit in our very messy, 1/4 unpacked apartment in Columbia, I'm still not going to explain what's happening with us. Not today.

What brings me back to the blogging world this morning is that, four years ago today, I was having reconstructive back surgery at Northwestern University Hospital in Chicago.

I've made mention of this anniversary the last couple years on Facebook. But when I woke up this morning and realized the date, I wondered about whether I should say anything about it; whether recalling attention to that time is relevant, or necessary, or worth the time. Let's be honest, my back has had enough attention to last a lifetime.

But when I recall that week of hospitalization in 2009, it's not the surgery I think about. It's not the pain and the struggle that I dwell on. The shining memory from those seven days, and the days of my recovery that followed, is how incredibly loved I felt by those who cared for me.

My surgery and subsequent recovery was the most humbling (read: often humiliating) time of my entire life. I was literally unable to do anything by myself. I needed help just to get out of bed, let alone walk, eat, clean/dress myself, etc. I hate to ask people for help, but I quickly had to swallow my pride and allow my caretakers to inconvenience themselves for me. To wake up throughout the night to help me move, to raise my spirits with conversation and laughter, to sleep in hospital waiting rooms, to track down nurses when I needed something, to help me eat just to deal with the sickness that followed, to sit by me as I cried and pay attention to the doctors when I couldn't focus because of the pain killers.  Most of all, to do all these things and more without ever making me feel embarrassed or like a burden.

So, on this anniversary, I want to say thank you to my parents, Drew, and Josiah. I don't know what you think about when you remember that week, but for the rest of my life, June 12th will be a day that I remember each of you with overwhelming gratitude.

The good, the bad, and the funny

I refrained from posting much online last week. In the midst of the sadness and confusion that followed the attack in Boston, I found myself both grateful for and thoroughly frustrated by social media sites. Grateful because those of us who were states away from the grieving communities were able to show our support through prayers and well-wishes. Frustrated because, just as news and well-wishes can be sent, so can misinformation, hatred, and uneducated opinions. While I am glad to live in a country where we can basically say anything we want in any public forum, we often say absolutely anything and everything that comes to mind, even when it is unhelpful or unvalidated. That frustrates me to no end.

The one thing that really hit home with me last week was when the suspect was identified as a 19 year old. I've met many 19 year olds in the past few years at Duke. They are smart, surrounded by brilliant people, learning tools of their respective trades from leaders in their fields, and passionate about the world around them. They're 19 now, but someday they will be our country's engineers, doctors, lawyers, business owners and politicians. They have the passion and potential to significantly and positively impact the world, and I'm confident when I say that I know some who will. While I pray for that boy who hurt so many, I also give thanks for the good these others have already done and will do.

Our next few weeks will be full of end-of-the-year festivities with Duke Lutherans, and packing our apartment. So much to do, so little time, and obviously some stress along with that. Assuming you are stressed as well, here are a few goodies to make you smile :)

Brother Bear

Today my brother, Tom, turns 22 years old.

Happy birthday, dude :)

It's going to be a good year for Tom. In a few short weeks he'll graduate from Ashland University, move to Seattle to start his awesome job at Amazon, and then at the end of July he's getting married to the absolute perfect girl for him. I could not be more thrilled for both of them.

I got to spend my last year and a half at Ashland with Tommy.  I loved having him there, knowing that once I graduated I was moving to North Carolina and would thus see him a lot less.  At one point during his first semester, we were eating together in the dining hall and one of my residents came to our table when Tom was up getting food, and asked if Tom wanted to sit with him and his friends. I told him we were catching up, but thanks for the offer, to which the student replied, "Wow, my sister goes here too but we would never eat together!"

I didn't think about our relationship a ton prior to that time. Tom and I grew up doing everything together, but we were surrounded by our cousins and their siblings who also did everything together. It didn't seem odd to me that we would be friends by the end of all that, but I guess for some people it doesn't work out that way. Not everyone likes their siblings. Or, they can like them but not really be friends. Realizing that made me pretty appreciative.  We didn't always get along perfectly, but I can think back throughout our childhood and know that he has always been there for me, and vice versa.

Together, we played made-up games that spanned for months. We had names (and an intricate social hierarchy) for all our stuffed animals. We would get sent to our rooms for fighting with each other, but then sit by the shared wall in our closets so we could keep talking. We made pacts to show each other our Christmas presents early. When I first got my back brace, he helped me loosen and re-tighten it before I could do it on my own, so mom and dad wouldn't know. We survived chamber choir, wrestling seasons, and musicals together. He stayed up with me at night after my surgery, and talked to me until I could take my meds. I watched him come to Ashland and finding an amazing new group of friends, but he still found time to eat with me once in awhile when I was feeling lonely because Drew was so far away. And this past year, I've cheered him on as he took an internship in a far away city and rocked it all summer, and when he bought an engagement ring all by himself, proposed, and then landed a kick-ass job for after graduation.

So, TomTom, happy birthday. I'm so proud to see the man you have grown up to be, and glad I've gotten to be a part of the journey so far.

Here's to you, brother :)

Two years.

"Because love, at its most beautiful and sacred, can be brutally unromantic. It's about sacrifice, commitment and friendship. People don't really fall in love as much as they work their way there." [from here]

It's been a long time since I last wrote. December is crazy, especially when you work in the church (or two). And I haven't really known what to say. But today is our two year wedding anniversary, and it seems like there should be something said about that.

I can't say that these two years have been perfect. Adventurous, busy, full of change, and exciting, yes. But not perfect. To be honest I've made many mistakes that I wish I could take back. But marriage isn't about perfection. If it was, no one would be married. No, it seems to me that marriage is concomitantly beautiful and challenging because it requires you to love another person better than yourself, to care about the needs and desires of another person as much as your own, to identify and admit your own flaws because of their affect on the person you hold most dear. Our partner, or rather, our desire to love our partner well, can motivate us to make these changes and become better people. But this process is terribly challenging, because we (or, at least, I) can be very self-centered beings, and these changes are not at all easy.

In the past two years I have moved across state lines and fallen in love with a new city. We made dinners without a kitchen and washed dishes in the bathtub. I graduated from college and found a job.  I cheered Drew on as he got a new job and finished his M.Div. We've made wonderful friends and have gone to a lot of weddings. We adopted a dog and learned to love even more. We have shared successes and failures. We have had great times and some not-so-great times. I can see my growth in some areas, and see where I have a lot more work to do in others.

But these two years are gone, and I can't wish them back. What I can do is press on. Marriage is the most challenging commitment I have ever made, and it is only with God's grace that I can hope to do it well, and believe that in two more years I will have made some more progress. Not for the sake of "success" in the world's eyes, but because I love my husband, and I would hope that in two more years I would have learned to love him better.

So, my love, here's to you. For putting up with me and my crazy, confusing, and often selfish ways. For helping me to be brave and believing in me when I'm unsure of myself. For encouraging me to try new things. For sharing your family with me and for loving mine. For the impromptu gifts, late night waffle dates, and for killing spiders for me. You may be the most challenging commitment I ever made, but you're also the best one. Two years behind us, forever in front of us.

Happy Anniversary :)

Waiting Expectantly

11 For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. 12 Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you. - Jeremiah 29:11-12

 14 The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. 15 In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. 16 In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: "The Lord is our righteousness."
- Jeremiah 33:14-16

It's been a busy week since we got back from our Thanksgiving in Colorado. One of those weeks where I drove to the church a two nights after I got off of work so I could see my husband for 15 minutes before he went into a meeting. Where the dishes didn't get done for awhile, and we ate out a couple of times. But our Sundays are generally about the same: we get home from church, Drew falls asleep on the couch watching football, I fool around on my computer while kind of watching football, and Stan paces around wishing we were more exciting :P It's a ritual that I enjoy.

Now it's December, and Advent has started. Advent is the start of a new church year. It is a time of expectation and hope.  We read the prophecies foretelling Jesus' birth, we light the candles, we remember this crazy thing that God did those many years ago.

It's kind of funny to me that every year we go through this practice of "waiting expectantly." We wait in assurance that God will be faithful and honor the promise that He has made to us.  It's funny, because you'd think after all this practice we would be better at doing it in real life. But let's be honest, it's easy to wait expectantly for something we know has already happened. We begin each Advent knowing what the outcome is: the Messiah.

When it's our own lives, though, waiting is not a strength of ours. We are impatient people bred in a culture of instant gratification. We get upset when our internet page takes more than 5 seconds to load, when we can't get something shipped in two days, or when the McDonalds' worker asks us to pull our car up to wait for our order. And that's just the small stuff. What about when we're waiting to hear back about that dream job we interviewed for? Or waiting to meet that special someone? When we're waiting for medical test results, or about a scholarship to our first-choice school, waiting expectantly is not what we want to do. We want God to give us whatever outcome we desire, and the sooner the better.

When Jeremiah was prophesying, it was in the darkest of times. The temple had been destroyed. The people were taken off into captivity. The majority of Jeremiah's writings are full of grief and loss. Yet, Jeremiah still spoke of God's promises. He reiterates that God's plans are good and that they will come to fruition. Even as the world around him was burning, Jeremiah waited expectantly for the righteousness of his Lord.

The timing of this post and of these reflections of mine are not coincidental. My Aunt Lori will be having surgery tomorrow morning in Buffalo to remove a tumor from her brain. From what I know, the tumor is in a good location and the surgery is expected to go well, but of course we're all worried and anxious for the ordeal to be over with. Also, Drew's grandfather is in the hospital right now with some heart complications, and we are not sure what that means or what's going to happen next for him. And there are many other people in the midst of this Advent season who are grieving due to sickness or death in their families, because of lost jobs,  separation from family members, because of homes destroyed by natural disasters, or ravaged by war.

So what is there to say to myself and my family as we pray for Lori tomorrow, to Drew and his parents as they worry about Grandpa Dale, and to everyone touched by fear and sadness at the beginning of this most joyous season of Advent? Remember Jeremiah. Jeremiah, the weeping prophet. Jeremiah, who complains and lashes out in despair as he watches the place where his people encounter God toppling over, and his countrymen taken away from their promised land. Jeremiah, who would not see the righteousness he prophesied about in his lifetime, but spoke the Word of the Lord for the generations to follow. Jeremiah, who knew, though all seemed lost, that God was still good. Jeremiah, who waited expectantly for the promise that we have already received: Immanuel, God with us.

21 But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: 22 The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; 23 they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. 24 "The Lord is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him." 25 The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul that seeks him.
- Lamentations 3:21-25

Confused Thankfulness [#3]

It's 1:19 a.m., so I can officially say Happy Thanksgiving to y'all.

Last year when I was up this late (or, early, rather) on Thanksgiving it was because we were getting ready to host our first Thanksgiving dinner. This year I'm not cooking anything, and I'm pretty ok with it ;)

No, this year we are traveling for Thanksgiving. In a few short hours we will drive to the airport and get on a plane to Colorado to spend the holiday weekend with Drew's parents, our sister-in-law and her family, and finally meet our nephew, Benjamin.

One of my favorite pics of the little guy so far :)

The traveling will be crazy for sure, but I'm excited to spend a few days with Drew where neither of us have work expectations, to see family we don't get to spend time with often, and to get as much of this precious boy as possible.

We're leaving for the airport at like 3:30 a.m., so I decided to just stay up and keep busy in hopes that once we get on the plane, I'll be so exhausted that I can't help but fall asleep, no matter how uncomfortable I may be. Drew decided to go to bed a couple hours ago, so I've been enjoying some introvert time, cleaning, packing, and putting up the Christmas tree.

[blurry pic of the tree from Photobooth]

I've been thinking some about growing up. My brother and his fiancee are spending Thanksgiving in NY with my family, and she tweeted earlier about it being her first holiday away from home. I realized as I responded with support to her, that this is my 6th [major] holiday from home. I was a bit taken aback by that. I can't believe how quickly these last few years have gone. That first holiday away is such a big thing. Now it's a fact of life. It's not any easier to know what I'm missing by not being in my childhood home surrounded by the family who raised me. I'm still looking forward to the next time I'll be in that place with those people, and in the years to come I will always hope that we can spend these particularly special days of the year with them.

But, I find myself torn this Thanksgiving. Torn between all the different places I want to be. I want  to be in Fredonia, playing Dutch Blitz with Tom and Cait, helping my Mom get the house ready for dinner tomorrow, seeing all my cousins and eating way too much of Nana's stuffing. But I also want to be in Colorado, meeting my nephew and spending time with Drew's parents and Michelle and her family. And I want to be in Ohio, with the rest of Drew's family and Matt and Karen and our godsons. And, truth be told, I want to be in Durham, spending a few days at our home without having to worry about work, cuddling with Stanley and making dinner for our friends and students who are staying behind this weekend.

I've lamented before about how it's hard growing up and having work and other responsibilities keep you from the things you want to do and the people you want to see. It's been hard for me, a person raised with so much family so close to me, to live this far away. But, I think tonight, I'm realizing that it's hard growing up because, as you grow, so does your capacity to love. And the more you love, the more there is to miss.

So to all my family and dear friends, I wish a very Happy Thanksgiving. For those I will not see this holiday, I miss you terribly, but I'm thankful that I have you to miss.

So many books

“You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.”
  - C.S. Lewis

 I love reading.

I used to be quite the reading fiend. As a child I always had a book with me. I would get in trouble for staying up too late reading in my room, or for trying to read during church. And I read super fast, which sometimes led people to believe I was skipping pages. I wasn't. They were just jealous :P

I think I love reading for the same reason I love TV/movies. I love getting caught up in a good story, getting lost in a world that someone else created, getting attached to characters who are well-developed. I'll be honest, I'm a hopeless romantic, so I like a good love-interest storyline in any kind of story.

Once you get into higher education, it's sometimes difficult to read for pleasure. That was definitely true for me. The end of my high school and the duration of my college careers included a lot of reading, but not of my own choosing. In the past year, though, the practice has been coming back to me, and I'm pretty excited about it. I got a Durham County library card earlier in the summer, and Drew bought me a tablet/e-reader for my birthday, so now there's no stopping me. Last night I stayed up way too late finishing a book. Part of me regretted it this morning when my alarm went off, but it was totally worth it.

Some of my reading list for 2012 (not necessarily in order):
- I had never read the Harry Potter books as a kid, so I read the whole series in January/February of this year. They were phenomenal. J.K. Rowling did such a great job creating that world and those characters in a consistent and holistic manner. Really enjoyed them, so much so that I re-read them during the summer :P
- The Hunger Games series I finished in a weekend (before the first movie came out). Loved the first book, the second two were less great, but as a whole I still really enjoyed the series.
- Had to get some classics in there so I re-read Pride and Prejudice, and read for the first time Mansfield Park.
- A friend gave me Pamela Aidan's Darcy Trilogy. Aidan is a librarian and Austen lover, and she wrote these three books from the perspective of Pride & Prejudice's Fitzwilliam Darcy. They were also fantastic. True to the details that Austen provides, but creates a whole new world and side of that love story. If you like P&P, you should definitely check them out.
- I read Shadow & Bone by Leigh Bardugo after seeing news that the producer of the Harry Potter movies was going to produce this movie as well. I liked it. It was well-written, nothing spectacular but enjoyable. Of course, I'd forgotten how lame it is to read series as they are being written, because then you have to wait forever for the next one. It's much nicer to read the series after they're all released. But alas, I guess I'll wait.
- The Matched Trilogy. Fortunately, the first two books in this series are already released, and the third will be out next month, so not as much waiting ;) Also a cool read. Dystopian future big-brotherish setting. Girl starts questioning. Love triangle. Predictable, maybe, but I'm easy to please.
- I Am Number Four and following books. They made a movie out of the first book last year sometime, which I enjoyed, and I saw the books at the library website so I decided to read them. Drew's turned me into a bit of a sci-fi nerd, and this series is about aliens, but it's a cool story. I'm currently waiting to read the third one, but someone's not returning it to the library. Jerks.
- And the book I finished last night: Throne of Glass. Found this randomly on Amazon and after reading some reviews decided to buy it with some birthday Amazon money. According to the author's website, this was her inspiration for the book: “What if Cinderella was an assassin, and went to the ball not to dance with the prince, but to kill him?” That was intriguing enough for me, and I thought it was great. I'm hoping it becomes a series. And soon.

That's all I can recall right now. Going to try to stop myself from finding anything new for the rest of the week so my house will get cleaned and I can get some sleep. But, for next week, any suggestions for more books?

Dreaming

“God can't give us peace and happiness apart from Himself because there is no such thing.”
- C.S. Lewis

I'm not in love with my jobs right now.

My job at church that I've been doing for awhile is ok,
but the new job I've taken on is giving me a lot of anxiety.
Like, a lot.

I've been looking around for another part-time job to try to replace it, but no luck so far, and sometimes that really gets me down. I don't want to complain about it. I'm lucky to have one job, let alone two. It's really not that bad, I should be able to suck it up. But there are days that the work causes such distress in me that it's all I can do to not break down in tears.

Sometimes I let myself dream about the future. I'm holding out for that day when I'll enjoy the work I do. Not that it won't have it's own stresses, or that every day will be perfect, but that ultimately the work I do will bring me joy.

I don't know exactly what that looks like, or when it will happen, but I'm still dreaming. And praying. Praying that God will either provide a different job for me right now, or that He will give me peace about what I'm currently doing. Praying that He would teach me to dream, and help me figure out how to make those dreams reality. And praying that, in the midst of all this, that I would still know peace in Him. I could definitely use some Peace.