Thoughts from Home

Woke up this morning to Rory licking my face. 

But how can you stay mad at a golden retriever? 

Being home has been a nice change of pace.  I realized how tired I really am and how much I need sleep.  It is amazing how once life slows down suddenly, even if for just a short time, all the exhaustion rushes into the rest.  Your body seems to be going overkill on getting the message across, "PLEASE slow down."  My body is finding a permanent spot by the fireplace, not wanting to move.

I am remembering the tension I felt when making the decision to move to Boston.  Wanting to stay, needing to leave.  Wanting to cling to what is safe, knowing I need to fly.  And so I turned off my over-thinking button and drove north.

And God smiles, I am convinced of it, when we step into the unknown.  When we say yes to the invitation of living out tall history on the earth. When we say yes to the now, which means a loud no is echoed into the past, where choices and legs of the journey try to disqualify.  I've found myself laughing more and more at those disqualifiers.  I just don't believe in them anymore.  What is life if not a defying of what shouldn't be possible.  Grace kisses brokenness and heals it if we let it, and that healing produces deep deep joy and wonder.  I know that as I watch my parents falling in love again.  I don't understand it.  A year ago they were headed to divorce.  Today they are laughing like little children together.  A mystery.  Grace.   

I learned something in one of my first physics lectures that changed how I see quest.  Sometimes to find motion, to determine direction, you have to take the individual parts apart and focus on one vector at a time.  There is an x direction, a y direction, and together they make up the trajectory.  There are times when I struggle with wondering how my love for journalism will ever come back into play in my life, but then I remember this truth.  It isn't and/or but both.  And that truth brings such freedom in the present--to be fully engaged and trusting in the now.  The things we hope for, we're willing to wait for, we hold onto.  What we hold onto shapes who we are in a profound way.  Even if certain hopes are never fulfilled, there must be something incredible that occurs in a waiting person's heart-- and not passive waiting , but the kind that is full of trust, expectation, vision, single-eyed.  

Steady hope. Lives becoming a beautiful offering.  I don't want to live a moment outside of the dance of knowing He fully delights in me.  All of me.  

His grace meets my uncertainties.

His wisdom my insufficiencies.

Ideas that Shaped Me.

It is 12:30 am.  I took a 10 mg melatonin a few hours ago and I'm still awake.  Story of my life.

The current solution to this predicament is to down a bunch of Halloween candy.  The sugar rush should have an equally strong reverse effect, right?  Hopefully one that involves lots of good dreams before my alarm goes off at 7 am and the studying of physics resumes, a full day of torque, momentum, hydraulics.  What could be more exciting?

Oh right.  A lot of things.

As a seasoned insomniac, I'm starting to notice that most of the time, the things that keep me up are ideas that I should probably start writing down.  And since technically I am still living out the first day of November, and everyone seems to be assembling thankfulness lists, I feel a need to write about being thankful for ideas that were passed onto me, shaping much of who I am today.

One of those ideas was from my mom, who told me to start writing in a journal one night when I was  in elementary school and couldn't sleep.  That suggestion became not just a discipline, but a salvation.  Those pages of words, capturing feelings throughout middle school, high school, college, and now into adulthood, were often the only blank spaces that gave me room to really be me.  When I couldn't find words, I could write until I found them.  Or didn't find them, but still found a sense of surrender, a restoration of wonder and balance and compassion for myself and others.  When struggling with deep anxiety, depression and just a general sense of being different from my peers when I was younger, there was a solace and a friendship in words, as well as in the stories of writers who inspire me to this day.

The other idea was my dad's idea to go to Nicaragua when I was just 12 years old.  That trip would end up being, without me realizing it at the time, one of  the most pivotal experiences of my youth.  That land got into my heart in a way that no other place has, and I've been to quite a few places.  There are days I still get transported back there through my senses connecting a smell, a taste, a sound, a feeling to a memory.   Going to other nations is an amazing gift, but going to one that is considered one of the poorest in the modern world will wreck a young heart.  You don't see the things my young eyes saw and not come back with questions of how your life can create more light.  How your life can become a prayer that answers a deep need.  And even more importantly, an understanding developed in my heart about how even in economic poverty, there are those who live with deep joy.  A joy from which I can learn.  Even with all my needs met, my heart too often lives in poverty and want, disconnected from the embrace of the Father and true, deep, abiding love.

"Let the beloved of the LORD rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the LORD loves rests between his shoulders."


Deuteronomy 33:12



Boston is beautiful in the fall. 

I walk a lot now that I live here, which is something I enjoy.  On my walks, I find myself often enjoying the solitude of being alone, even when I'm in the middle of a large city full of humans.  There is so much to observe, to take in, to process on those solitary walks.  When I'm at home, I'm studying or distracted by other things, but it's when I walk that I get to clear my mind. 

Lots of mind clearing has been needed lately.  For one thing, I thought I'd overcome the perfectionist bug years ago when I fought through an eating disorder in high school.  I thought that I'd changed, somehow overnight shifting into someone who could care less about being perfect.  And in fact, I did grow into a much more free spirited individual, but I also didn't realize that I did that by partially removing myself from anything in life that I could interpret as a competition or a big challenge.   I stopped playing sports competitively, stopped caring about getting A's in school, stopped counting calories, stopped obsessively checking my weight.  And where some things got healthy, other things went down hill.  Like my confidence that I can actually do well in school.  That I can actually do well in life.  That I can do well without having to be perfect.  And now that I'm back in an academic world that is extremely challenging for me, I'm having to confront this odd tension of perfectionism and apathy/laziness...and get into a healthy place of confidence, excellence and a solid work ethic.  

There is also the addiction I didn't know I had to a role I've lived most of my life.  dahdahdah....

Pastor's Kid.  Two years ago my parents stopped pastoring, one of the biggest reliefs of my life.  However, in the process of trying to find a new church here in Boston, I noticed that I see church through the eyes of someone who has only ever been the child of parents in full time ministry.  And unless you have a similar experience to that, you won't really understand how it feels.  There is an odd anxiety that I feel when trying to connect with a new community of believers.  There is a suspicion I feel towards both leaders and congregants...and I am just beginning to acknowledge that I may not know how to be a healthy part of a church community until I confront my own addiction to ministry.  

Really neat things are happening too.  Like hanging out with my 8 year old cousins, getting the chance to attend class on a gorgeous campus with such deep, historical roots, living in a city that is full of college students (great inspiration for storytelling) and close to beautiful bodies of water, being able to easily go on scenic drives.  

I am learning to not let my heart get flat lined by the busy--to remember that the Father delights in me every second of the day, even when I'm cursing so loud over not being able to find a parking space in Cambridge because of a random event in the city.  (Yes, that happened.  Not the proudest of moments on my  part).  

I really have no idea what I'm learning right now in life because it is all so busy and still a bit overwhelming, but I look forward to finding more words and expressions for all that I'm experiencing both internally and externally.  

to be thankful.

to give thanks.

---

my uncle's good taste in music and his passion to make sure people are eating good food...and frequently.

my cousins' hugs.

my aunt's incredible wisdom and business sense.

boston in the fall.

parking spots on mass ave after 5 pm.

the old man who walks his dog while riding a bike.

the young man singing while biking through cambridge.

opportunity to learn.

sitting in a class where I can learn about motion...math applied.

food.  a place to live.  family close by.  warmth.  music.  a camera to capture moments.  calculators.  trail mix (it's cheap and kinda nutritious).  green tea.  coffee.  chocolate covered berries.  walking to and from work.  an ipod with good music.  shoes.  a coat.  clean water.  deoderant.  running water.  contacts, glasses.  pens. paper.  clear mind.

my old journals that remind me of my heart's journey, God's faithfulness, the worth of risk and the reward of a heart when it frees itself from things that keep it from going hard after Jesus.

FRIENDSHIP.  Oh my goodness, I have the greatest friends in the world.

Boston in the Fall

Recently I noticed many words in my vocabulary are spoken with an added definition of "hard" tacked onto their denotation.

physics--the branch of science concerned with the nature and properties of matter and energy, with movement. The subject matter of physics, distinguished from that of chemistry and biology, includes mechanics, heat, light and other radiation, sound, electricity, magnetism, and the structure of atoms. HARD.


traffic-- vehicles moving on a road or public highway. HARD.

parallel parking-- the parking of a vehicle parallel to the roadside. HARD.

Boston-- The capital and largest city of Massachusetts, in the eastern part of the state on Boston Bay, an arm of Massachusetts Bay. Founded in the 17th century, it was a leading center of agitation against England in the 18th century and a stronghold of abolitionist thought in the 19th century. Today it is a major commercial, financial, and educational hub. Population: 591,000. HARD.

                                                                          ***

My dad gets on the phone with me as I, close to crying, explain how I can't figure out where to park, will definitely be late for class, maybe I should turn around, I may not have enough quarters for the meter, I don't even know where the class is in the first place and it's dark out and I have no friends and the city is big.  Hard.  And he says take a deep breath.  He reminds me that life is bigger than that present moment, that present fear, that present shake in confidence.  

That was the first day going into Cambridge.  It took me an hour or more to park.  There were two men doing roadwork next to me, and they were the face of kindness in my panic, helping me figure out if I would get a ticket if I parked on Mass Ave for more than two hours.  They asked me if I was an Orioles fan.  I said yes tentatively (Red Sox territory), but they smiled, I smiled, they said, "Good.  They're a good team.  Good luck in class!" and I rushed off with them behind me, cheering for me to be victorious.  

Once I settled that, I struggled to find the class.  I was 45 minutes late for physics 1.  But I found it.  I pressed through.  I didn't think I had it in me to press through, but I did.  For most people, that may have been a typical day in their world, no problem, no struggle.  Just drive, park, walk to class.  For me, it was a confronting of multiple fears, and inside of that movement there was a coming of age evolution.  

The semester is now entering the third week.  The class is still hard.  It stretches my brain, calling on me to remember trigonometry, geometry, algebraic manipulations-- things I haven't used in years, and definitely didn't use while immersing myself in the world of journalism and filmmaking.  But here I am, not sure if the end will be "success" in terms of a brilliant grade, but confident that there is a different kind of success I'm walking into, and that the end is good.  

I know enough about the brain from books and articles to know that the brain has the ability to build new pathways.  And as I look at that spiritually, I know that as I embrace negative thoughts of defeat, it is like I am building a highway in my brain where my thoughts get stuck telling a certain kind of story.  Yet the renewing mind part of scripture keeps prodding at me, offering hope, but requiring discipline.  To take every thought captive.  To be serious about looking at what I'm thinking and ask, "Is this the story I want my life to tell?" and from there, adjusting to a thinking position that is full of faith, full of Kingdom. 

So those are highlights of my adventure so far.  I am looking forward to the weather that's already starting to change to fall.  I also found an awesome spot to kayak.  Now that's good for the heart.  

Off to another day of learning, growing.  Not sure where all this leads, but I'm learning to keep my thoughts victorious even in the middle of question marks and uncertainty.  

My mom and I took a  roadtrip this past weekend to seal off our last year of adventure, an adventure that led us on a roadtrip out to California, passing through beautiful South Dakota, Montana, Idaho, Washington, Oregon, and settling in Shasta County, CA, where the mountains and the culture brought such peace, healing, joy, friendship. 

And now that season ends with a forceful re-entering into school.  For me, last minute decisions seem to help me turn my mind off and "just do it", jumping into the water and knowing I will learn how to swim, even if the water is absolutely freezing.  Tonight I go to my first class in a year, Physics 1, where I have no idea if I will be able to handle the material and where I fear I will be surrounded by students with far more impressive academic backgrounds than myself.  I may be the only one who says, "Oh, I spent two years of my undergrad career on movie sets and in practice tv studios...and now I want to go into, um, medicine...."

So...

Boston, Boston, take me in...and Cambridge, please be gentle with me. ;)  

Here I am, ready for a new chapter, a coming of age, a fresh season.  Excited, overwhelmed, in shock, expectant...and completely in awe of the provision of God and the kindness of others as I've transitioned into this new thing.

Ten years from now, I will be thankful I took this step, regardless of how it turns out.  

"History says, Don't hope on this side of the grave.  

But then, once in a lifetime the longed for tidal wave 

of justice can rise up, 

And hope and history rhyme."

 -Seamus Heaney