becoming.

Becoming. Not only is it my favorite word, but this year, becoming has taken hold of my heart and worked its way into my soul and my story. For yesterdays post, I wrote about the importance of asking questions of the year behind us and the year head. One of the questions being, what would you the title of the year 2011?

Of course, my go-to answer was becoming. But I wanted to be thoughtful and honest in thinking about this past year. What has truly been at the heart of 2011? How does this year fit into the bigger story that I'm living? As I was driving home from babysitting earlier tonight, I thought back to previous years and how this year would fit into the storybook of my life. Recent years, I think, would be titled Decisions. Lost & Wandering. Jump. 

It makes sense to me that the next chapter would be Becoming. The more I thought about it on the drive home, the more it made sense. Yes, becoming was my quick and easy answer, but it is also the right answer, the very best way to title the year 2011.

I don't know if you're a New-Year's-Resolution-making type of person, but a few years ago I stopped, as suggested by my friend Johanna. Instead, I choose one word - or in the case of this year, a few words - to focus on throughout the year. To me, this makes more sense that compiling a lengthy list of self-improvement projects that inevitably fail (in turn making me feel worse about myself than when I started). Instead, I write my word (or words) on post-its and scribble them in the pages of my journals. I continually come back to them throughout the year. They are words that I hope and pray will be lived and felt and experienced to the full throughout the year, only to become a routine part of my life once the year ends. The past few years my words have been pursue and seek experience. This year I was ambitious and chose four words. No, scratch that. Five.

In January of 2011, no doubt on a miserably cold day lounging in bed, I scribbled the words becoming, transformation, dependence, surrender, and heal in my journal. I prayed, sought after, and attempted to live each of these words this year.

Definitely, there are times in the past year where these words have been felt and experienced and lived. Healing came in my brief stint of counseling last winter and in a quiet, late night in Rome writing an email for closure on long-harbored bitterness. Dependence felt last winter during my first months as a Young Life leader, when the only words out of my mouth were, I can't do this, why me, and I'm so overwhelmed. Dependence felt in the daily and hourly prayers during those early months for His strength to guide my steps and use this new role for His glory. Surrender felt every day of summer staff, Mark 8:35 constantly on my heart. Transformation seen in retrospect, in looking back at where I was a year ago to where I am today, a new creation. Becoming as a theme throughout the year; the idea that we're made new and always being made new. Desiring to become a person who experiences deep and rich life with God, constantly coming back to the question, who am I becoming?

When I think about the year in retrospect, these five words are truly at the heart of 2011. They were words felt at very different times and in very different places and certainly not all at one time and absolutely not all 365 days of the year. I don't want to sit here and fool you into thinking that it's been easy or fun the whole time, or that I've kept a positive spirit the entire time. I can look back now and see how the good, the bad, and the ugly have somehow connected back to these five words. And certainly, none of that is my own doing. Yes, I set out with the intention to really live these words this year, but that would not have been possible on my own strength. I can't become something more on my own. I can't transform on my own. I can't heal on my own. These words have only been possible because we serve a loving and gracious God, a God who wants us to be close to Him. A God who heals, who brings peace, who comforts. A God who, when we pray earnest prayers and desire to grow close to Him, answers tenfold. I come back to the truth that I don't deserve to have the words be a part of my story, but God loves me more than that.

As this year ends, and 2012 quickly approaches, I pray that becoming, transformation, dependence, surrender, and healing don't stop here. I don't want 2011 to be marked by these words, I want my life to be marked by these words.


What would you title 2011? What words have marked your year? What words would you like to live, experience, and feel in 2012? 

questions.

It's December 29th, and as I'm assuming most of you can count ... that means there are only a few days left of 2011. Where did this year go? I mean, seriously? My mind still thinks it's 2009. I'm that far behind. The older I get the more I realize how quickly time is escaping me. Minutes turn into days and weeks and before I know it, I blink and another year has gone by. I am realizing, though, that maybe that's just a part of growing up.

As I am sitting here, snuggled on the couch in my yoga pants and a blanket, I am starting to think about this year, what's been meaningful and transformative in 2011 and what's worth taking into the next year. I am asking questions, writing, wondering, and thinking through the past 365 days. I am making sense and moving forward into a new year, a new beginning. Heather showed me this post on the Young Life Leader Blog, and it got me thinking about what questions we should be asking about this year and next. I've been asking and answering some of the questions from that post, and some of my own.

Of 2011, I am asking, what are the memorable moments of this year? In what ways did I change? In what ways was I challenged? In what ways did I grow? Who did I become this year? How am I different from January 1, 2011? Am I more of my authentic self? What were the most important or influential places this year? Who were the most important or influential people this year? Why were they important?  In what ways did I surrender myself and give myself to more wholly God's purposes this year? How did I cultivate my prayer life this year? How did I spend time with God this year? In what moments did God surprise me? When did the Gospel come alive this year? When did I enter places of mystery? When did I enter into the unknown? When did I mess up? When did I do things right? What are the songs that mark this year? What words would I use to describe this year? What words would I use to describe myself this year? What would I title the year 2011? How was I moved or impacted this year?

Of 2012, I am asking, what do I hope for this year? What are the words I would like to see lived out this year? What daring, thrilling, or unknown things would I like to do this year? Who do I want to become this year? What will I do to become more of my true self? What's one change I will make to hold myself to a higher standard of living? What would I like the title of 2012 to be? What do I want to accomplish this year? Who do I want to get to know better this year? Where do I want to devote my time, energy, and finances this year? How can I live with more passion this year? How will I think out of the box this year? How will I take care of my body, mind, and spirit, this year? What risks will I take this year? How will I step out of my comfort zone this year?


More to come in the next few days on my answers to these questions, including both my reflections on 2011 and my posture toward 2012. 


What questions are you asking? 

enjoying & waiting.

I had the opportunity to spend yesterday with my friend Julie. We spent the day roaming from Caribou to Panera to Barnes & Noble, all the while discussing life in real and raw and refreshing ways. It was nice to spend the day talking about life in the past few months- from the stress of teacher preparation, to boys, to roommates, to ways that God transformed and grew us, to the hardest struggles and the purest moments of joy. We also talked about the months to come, graduating, unexpected plans, and waiting. While I was browsing Pinterest this morning, I came across this print, and it spoke to some of what Julie and I talked about yesterday. 

"I don’t want to wait anymore. I choose to believe that there is nothing more sacred or profound than this day. I choose to believe that there may be a thousand big moments embedded in this day, waiting to be discovered like tiny shards of gold. The big moments are the daily, tiny moments of courage and forgiveness and hope that we grab on to and extend to one another. That’s the drama of life, swirling all around us, and generally I don’t even see it, because I’m too busy waiting to become whatever it is I think I am about to become. The big moments are in every hour, every conversation, every meal, every meeting." - Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines 

How are you choosing to enjoy life? To enjoy this day? What keeps you stuck in the mindset of waiting? 

merry everything.

Ever since we made our Bethesda Christmas card, the phrase merry everything has stuck in my heart. It's so true and yet a simple idea. This season is not just about Merry Christmas, it's not about rushing and mania and perfection and stress, it's about a baby in a manger. This season about the truth and the promise that there's something more to come, and that's reason to be merry about everything. This season is not Merry Christmas, it's merry everything. Merry cookie baking. Merry family togetherness. Merry chex mix making. Merry Christmas light driving. Merry peppermint tea. Merry dance parties. Merry spontaneous togetherness. Merry movie-watching. Merry sleeping-in. Merry Christmas sweaters. Merry ice-skating. Merry tree decorating. Merry remembering. Merry music listening. Merry everything. 

It's been a trend the past few weeks to post songs for dance parties and singing and silly moments. Today I thought I'd post a few songs that have been on repeat for me this season. Whether you're packing or wrapping gifts or cooking or laying on the couch all day (like me), I hope you're in the spirit of merry everything. Enjoy the jams!

Andrew Ripp - Joy to the World 

Dave Barnes - Very Merry Christmas 

Phil Wickham - The First Noel 

Sufjan Stevens - O Come O Come Emmanuel 

Chris Tomlin - Joy to the World (Unspeakable Joy)

Ben Rector - Let it Snow

What songs have been on repeat for you this season? Oh, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't listen to a hefty amount of this guy, too! 

Merry Christmas and merry everything! 

home is not here.

If you're just joining us this week, this is my last installment of a series about home. I've been asking and trying to answer questions like, what is home? What does it mean? How do we define it? Is home a person? A place? A feeling or a memory? And ultimately, where is my home? Is my home even here?

As I was driving back from Milwaukee this afternoon and thinking about this post, I couldn't help but feel so full of hope. This whole week as I've been thinking through home, I keep coming back to the truth that ultimately, our home is not here. 

I am drawn back to something I heard this summer at Castaway. After our final Saturday of work, the summer staff, along with all the other camp staff, met in the Club Room. I remember the Camp Director saying something to the effect of ... this work we've done, the community we've created, the home that we've build the past three weeks, it makes me yearn for my heavenly home. 

For the past few months, that phrase has stuck with me - to yearn for my heavenly home. As I started thinking about home and what it means to me and how I wanted to present it to you, the most important thing for me to say is that our home is not here. This is what gives me so much hope. Our home, our ultimate peaceful place of comfort, is home with our Heavenly Father. Seeing as I'm pressed for time right now (a shower is calling me name ... ), I thought I'd share a few songs with you that have connected me back to the truth that my home is not on this Earth. Our home, the place where we belong, is in Heaven. Please listen.

Maybe the reason that I've been feeling so displaced, so transitional, and so unsure of my true home .. is because my home is not here. I think back to the article I read on Relevant and to the idea that we're wandering through this Earth from home to home until we make it to Heaven. Maybe the reason we have an ache in our hearts to know where we belong and who we belong to, is because we belong in a different world. Maybe I'm not ever going to feel at home here, because home is not here. We belong in Heaven. We were created to be with God. That's where we belong. That's home.

"If I find myself in a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probably explanations is that I was made for another world." - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity 








Do I ever express how truly grateful I am that you read my posts? Thank you for reading. It means more than you know. My earnest hope is that this week has challenged you, if even for a moment, to think about your home. What is home to you? Where is your home? Who is your home? And ultimately, is your home here? I pray that, in some small way, this week and this blog have an impact on your heart. And I don't want to take any of the credit for that - my words and my heart are part of a much bigger story, and I'm not the author. So, thank you for reading. Back tomorrow with marvelous musical selections for Christmas. - Erin

home is wherever i'm with you.

In case you're just starting, this week I'm exploring home; what and where and who it is. I wrote the other day that home is a place, a location that is familiar and comfortable and known. My friend Alex mentioned yesterday that home can be full of oxymorons and opposing emotions. Today I want to look at home as a person or group of people. 

Have you heard this song? I think it was once featured in a Coke commercial, 

so that really makes me like it. (scroll down and pause my playlist to listen)

I like this song for another reason, too. When I started exploring home, one of the phrases that immediately came to my mind was home is wherever I'm with you. 

The heart of home, I am realizing, is who you're with. It's being with and loving and living with the people who know you the most and love you the best. Home is knowing that I can laugh or cry or scream or trip and fall in front of certain people, and they won't walk out the door. Home is trust. Vulnerability. Conflict. Honesty. Conversation. Laughter. Tears. Memories. It's knowing that I can be at my best or at my worst, and there are people who will be there through it all. 

Home is hugging my mom after a few months in Chicago. Home is singing loud on the dining room chairs with my roommates. Home is talking in the kitchen at Bethesda. Home is Caribou with Nicole. Home is phone conversations with my sister. Home is laughing about inside jokes with my Dad. Truly, home is wherever I'm with you. Home is being with the people I love, making memories and building relationships. 

Who in your life makes you feel the most at home? I'd encourage you, in the next few days especially, to go spend time with them. Make memories and build traditions. And tell the people who love you and who make you feel the most at home and who make you feel safe to be who you are ... tell them that you love them. Tell them, home is wherever I'm with you. 

a new voice.

You should meet Alex. 

That picture was taken in May of 2010 in South Carolina. It's possible that we were on our way to get ice cream and I made Alex stop to take selfies with me. But only maybe. This picture and that trip carry so much weight, history, and depth to the story of our friendship. I love it and couldn't help but share. You should also know what she looks like, cause let's be honest ... she's a babe.

Alex blogs about life and finding her true self and living outside of her box over here. She writes with an authenticity and honesty that I admire. Alex shares my love of organizing and yoga and desire to eat a lot of dessert (as evidenced in the above photo). In some ways, we are so similar yet in other ways very different, which makes us great friends. I am so excited for her to share thoughts about home. Without any more of my rambling, here's Alex ...

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I have been home in Michigan for 6 hours and I am already ready to get back on the bus to Chicago.  Being back at my parent’s house is the epitome of bittersweet.  Sweet because I enjoy the time with my family, the home cooked meals, the heart-to-hearts, and the being cared for, but bitter because of the judgement, the nosy questions, and the pressure to be someone who I’m not.  It is becoming clear to me that my primary home is now in Chicago (300 miles away from the home where I grew up).  This realization brings me to a startling conclusion: I am a grown up (pause for gasp).  While I still consider my parent’s house my home, it is a very different home than my own apartment.  It is a home that constrains me as well as a home that challenges me to grow.  It is a home that pressures me as well as a home that eases my stress.  It is a home full of love and a home full of criticism.  Regardless of the good and the bad, my parent’s house is still the home I run to when the world seems to be closing in on me.  It is also the place where I ultimately feel the most safe and the most supported. 

My chicago home is not perfect either...it is also full of oxymorons...it is full of happiness and loneliness, independence and vulnerability, and laughter and stress.  It is the place where I am most liberated and able to be my full self, but also the place where I feel most alone.  In the long run, I think having these two opposing homes is beneficial since each home offers something very different, but that does make it any easier to transition between the two.  My mission over the next three weeks is to accept my experience at my parent’s home for exactly what it is: a mixture of bitter and sweet.  I hope I am able to muddle through the negative so I can embrace the positive.  I hope I am able to take everything with a grain of salt so I don’t allow myself to be burdened.  And finally I hope I am able to continue listening to own voice even among the other (very loud) voices.  Wish me luck!

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Is your home full of opposing emotions? Is the season you're in forcing you to transition from home to home?

Oh, and just for giggles, here's a much more accurate depiction of the chaos and hilarity and ridiculousness that happened on our South Carolina trip ...  

Happy Wednesday!

home is a place: thoughts on italy, guinea pigs, & ben rector.

As I've been thinking about what it means to truly be home, I am continually drawn back to the day I came back from Italy. I spent two weeks studying and three weeks traveling through a different country, experiencing new traditions and delicious food along the way. By the end of my time there, I knew about ten words in Italian (I do not have an aptitude for learning languages) and I was ready to unpack my suitcase once and for all.

I cannot think of a time in my life that I yearned to be home more than sitting on the ten hour flight between Rome and Chicago. I wanted familiarity and comfort. I wanted things that I know. I wanted my own language. I wanted my own bed. I wanted to eat tacos. I wanted to have ice to put in my water.

Reflecting back on my last few days in Italy and my strong desire to be home makes me think that home can be a place. I'm realizing that home can be a lot of things - a feeling, a person, a memory, and home can certainly be a place.

Home is where the heart is, that's the idiom isn't it? If I think about that, I know the entire time I was in Italy I was surrounded by people who I know and love. Home was with me, in a lot of ways, just by the people I was with. But there was still an ache inside of me toward the end of that trip. An ache for something familiar. An ache for comfort. An ache to be home. I wanted the physical place of home. I wanted to rest in my bed, on my pillow. I wanted to lay on my couch. I wanted to drive by the Tastee Freez and know I could order something in English. I wanted the comfort and familiarity of being at home in a place. 

The more I think about home as a place, the more I realize that home can be more than one place. The place of Bethesda is home. It's comfortable and what I've known for two years. My parent's house is home, packed with six years of life and love and arguments. The house where I grew up is home. It's the place where I lived and grew for ten years; the place where I left cookies for Santa and played with my guinea pigs and dug frogs out of the window wells. I think you could even find home in a place that isn't conventionally thought of as home. Maybe home, for you, is in a coffee shop, if that evokes familiarity and comfort and peace. Maybe home is in the park or on the running trail or where you work or in your car. Home can be a number of places, but I'd venture to say that the place of home is what makes you comfortable. Home is what you know, what's familiar, what's routine, what gives you peace.

The place of home, I am also realizing, is not static. The place you consider home can change. What I consider home has changed and is changing. Nowadays, instead of saying "home" I say "my parent's house" and I say "home" instead of "Bethesda" or "school." But alas, I can look at the coming months of transition and I can see how soon, my definition of home will change again. With change and transition in life, the place that we consider home, the place most comfortable and most familiar, also changes.

As I sit here, in my jammies and sipping tea, I can recognize that none of these places would make me feel at home if it weren't for the people and the memories associated with them. I wouldn't feel at home in Bethesda if I were living with different people. Bethesda wouldn't be home without spontaneous dance parties and messes in the kitchen and too much dessert. My home at 533 Deer Crossing Court wouldn't be the same if the Claxton family didn't reside there.

As I have written this post about home as a place, I can see that the place is just the starting point. A home is made a home by who's in it, by memory, by love and arguments and dancing and snuggling and cooking and baking and late nights and early mornings and living life. I think we'll explore more of that tomorrow.

How about a little Ben Rector for your Tuesday? Your ears will be happy. I promise.

What do you think about the idea of home as a place? What places do you call home? Can a home ever just be a place? Is there always memory and people and heart associated with home? Oh yeah, and isn't Ben Rector's voice dreamy?!!

what is home?

I've been home for winter break for about 24 hours now. I'm looking forward to a few weeks of reading, silence, crafting, watching good movies, seeing good friends, and familiar places and spaces. I was home last weekend too, but spent the past week traveling between my home in Grayslake and my home in Chicago; Bethesda. I spent a few days with friends, adventuring downtown numerous times to ice skate and take pictures, bake, have coffee dates and conversations, and say goodbye for the holidays. 

In the midst of driving from Grayslake to Chicago numerous times in the past week, I've been thinking, what is home? What does it mean to go home? To be home? Who is home? Does home change? Is home a feeling? A mental state? A physical place? A person? Is home even here? And ultimately, where is my home? 

Does anyone else feel the same way? I mean, okay if you're married or settled or my parents or over the age of 30 .. maybe you have a more static posture toward home. But me? I lived out of a suitcase last summer. The summer before that I practically called the house I nannyed home. I call my parent's house home and Bethesda home, even though sometimes neither place feels like it. I've made the drive between Grayslake and Chicago at least 75 times in the past four years, spending various amounts of time in each location; not sure which one is actually home. As I venture into the next chapter of life, I want to have an understanding of home. What is home? Where is my home? 

I read an interesting article on Relevant the other day, and it was particularly pertinent given my desire to explore the feeling and place and person of home. If the season you're currently living is marked by change or transition, by questioning what's next, or if you're curious what it takes to make a home ... I'd encourage you to read the article. The author raises a few interesting points, one of which has been on my heart all week. 

"Like many twentysomethings in transition, I have been vulnerable to emotional and physical displacement, but I have learned that the ache to belong is perfectly aligned with Scripture's description of God's people as rootless travelers, making the journey from Eden to Heaven, from home to home."

I love that. She hit the nail on the head. It's comforting, in a way, to know that the desire to be home ... or as the author put it ... the ache to belong ... is entirely biblical. Lost. Wandering. Traveling. Looking for where we belong. Those stories are written again and again in the bible. Just as God's people traveled through this world, we are traveling from home to home, making our way to the ultimate home in Heaven (that's a whole post coming later this week). 

This week, I'm going to be exploring home through writing, through song, and through idioms like home is where the heart is and make yourself at home and there's no place like home. There may even be a guest post coming. I feel like writing about home and thinking about home is important in light of Christmas coming this weekend. I am drawn back to Jesus making a home on Earth, and what God promises through that. I connect back to the truth that God has promised He will come again. Heaven will come to Earth. Or maybe we will make it to our home in Heaven before that. This fills my heart with anticipation and hope as I ponder the true meaning of home. 

How do you define home? 

songs for saturday.

It is Saturday. I don't know what it is lately, but the past few weeks my Saturdays have included a lot of singing and dancing. I mean, a lot. Last week I was cooking for a family party, dancing through my recipes. Today includes cleaning, packing to go home, and getting ready to spend a night here in Chicago with my mom. And while I'm scrubbing the shower and washing my sheets, I've been practicing my best American Idol singing voice (which is pretty terrible, by the way).

My music has been on shuffle all morning, sweetly surprising me with forgotten songs and really great sing-a-longs. My personal rediscovered favorite? (you should scroll down to the bottom of the page and pause the playlist)

A song about boys being stupid and a shameless ode to girl power? I'm in. Thanks Sara B. 

Today, I encourage you to turn that music on shuffle, grab a microphone (my choice? bottle of Windex), and start singing. I promise, it will add a little silly into your Saturday. 

risk, dependence, & leading young life.

"Be willing to go out on a limb with Me. If that is where I am leading you, it is the safest place to be. Your desire to live a risk-free life is a form of unbelief. Your longing to live close to Me is at odds with your attempts to minimize risk. You are approaching a crossroads in your journey. In order to follow Me wholeheartedly, you must relinquish your tendency to play it safe." 


"In your private thoughts, you are still trying to order your world so that it is predictable and feels safe. Not only is this an impossible goal, but it is also counterproductive to spiritual growth. When you private world feels unsteady and you grip My hand for support, you are living in conscious dependence on Me."

Both of these excerpts come from Sarah Young's Jesus Calling, a daily devotional I've been following for a few months now. As I was sitting in Starbucks the other morning, I read through both of these passages and they both gave me reason to stop and think.

I've been trying to make an effort this break to slow down, turn off my phone and computer, and honestly listen for what's next. The coming months bring about so much transition; transition that, at this point, I am barely able to wrap my brain around. But it is coming, and with each passing day I am one step closer to graduating, saying goodbye, and starting the next chapter. As I am beginning to make decisions and form a clearer picture of 2012, I want to listen for what's next. Where am I being called? What will this all look like? Where will God use me? Where does He want me? Oh, how I want to listen. As I sat in Starbucks the other morning, I couldn't help but take Sarah Young's words to heart.

Risk and dependence. That's really what we're talking about, right?

I want to be the kind of person who grows in dependence. I want my life to be marked by dependence; to be a woman who daily depends on the provision of her Savior. Every day. My whole life. Dependence. After reading Sarah's words and thinking for a few minutes, it makes sense that having an opportunity to grow in dependence can't come without risk.

I think back to when I first became a Young Life leader. The first time I went to an event at GBS, it was honestly to help Heather. I thought, oh sure I'll just help my new and cool roomie this one time because they need extra hands. And go figure, a few short weeks later I was on a bus to Fall Weekend, leading a cabin of girls. I knew nothing about Young Life, nothing about being a leader. I took a risk and jumped in head first. And here I am, a year and a few months later, daily reminded of God's goodness and faithfulness. Grateful and humbled by the opportunity to tell high schoolers that there is something more to life.

The decision to lead high school girls has transformed by heart and mind and soul. But I didn't just jump in and love it right away. There were a few months in the beginning, when I barely knew what Young Life Club was and didn't know any kids ... I thought I had taken on too much. I would never be able to handle it all. I wasn't good enough to be a leader, because I didn't have my own life figured out (in my opinion, that's one of the biggest misconceptions about being involved in ministry and leadership). I asked questions like, how can I possibly relate to high schoolers? Talk to them? Lead them? Show them Jesus? Let alone speak in front of them? Or plan club? Or go to their football games and choir concerts? Too much. I think I threw out phrases like "I'm just so overwhelmed" and "I don't know what I'm doing" on a more than consistent basis during my first few months of leading.

And it was in those moments, those early and fragile and scary moments, where I felt so alive. They were months that allowed me to recognize my own humanity, my own inability, and my deep need for God's hand in the risk I was taking; His strength, His courage, His guidance, His peace. It was in those early months of leading that I got the truest and most real sense of dependence. That I cannot do this - any of this - on my own. 

I am now at a place where I love leading. I have seen God move in big and powerful and very real ways in the past year, both in my life and in the lives of high schoolers. What I have given to the ministry pales in comparison to all that I have received, and for that I am so grateful.

As I am sitting here, contemplating what's next, I am holding tight to the words of Sarah Young and my first months as a Young Life leader. Growing in dependence can only come with taking risks. As I think about the next year, and begin to pave the way for what will happen, I want to take risks. Risks that are challenging and uncomfortable, yet still tangible. Risks that will make me become more dependent on Jesus, the Giver of Life.

I want to ask myself, what's next? Is it risky? Risky enough to be unknown and challenging, yet still tangible? How do I want to grow in this? Will I grow in dependence? Does this have potential to push me upward, toward God? Who am I becoming in the midst of changes and choices? 


I encourage you to think through similar questions on risk and dependence as you venture into whatever is next.

heavy.

Have you guys checked out Cory Copeland's blog? If not, you really should. Did you know he's also the genius behind, To My Future Spouse? Whatever the venue, he keeps me entertained with hilarious, and often very honest, opinions about dating and relationships. A lot of times I agree with what he's saying, and sometimes I don't. Nonetheless, he keeps me entertained. We're talking, I was up until almost 1:30 last night (this morning?) browsing through his various websites entertained. 

I came across a post he wrote awhile ago, maybe this summer, and reading the words nearly stopped me in my tracks. And by stopped me in my tracks I mean I read part of it about five times over while I was laying in bed. 

"I am a Christian. I’ve never denied this truth nor have I ever hidden it to gain favor with those who may not share my faith. I am a Christian, and I’m proud to say so. Every day and night, I do my best to live a life that can not only be classified as “Christ-like,” but is also, in the most humble way possible, a literal reflection of Jesus. But I often fail. I say things I shouldn’t say. I think things I shouldn’t think. I do things I shouldn’t do. I am merely a sinner who was blessed enough to have been born in to a family that covets the truth of God and truly aims to follow His teachings. I am a sinner blessed by happenstance.

We are Christians. Those who know us are privy to this information. Those around us can (hopefully) tell a difference between how we conduct ourselves in comparison to those who aren’t fortunate enough to be saved as of yet. But what if they can’t? What if our walk in God isn’t as vibrant as we may think? What if the words we speak are wasteful and lack holy meaning? It terrifies me to think that I may just be seen as simply a “good person”—because I’m more than that. You’re more than that. Yes, we are good people, and yes, we give freely of ourselves, but if our walk in God and our talk in God aren’t prevalent enough to be recognized as anything but true Christianity, then we have failed."

That's heavy, isn't it? As I mulled it over in my head last night, I kept thinking about the things I do and say and think that don't reflect Jesus. It's a harrowing reminder, really. It's terrifying to think that there are things I do in my life that make people think I am a "good person" and nothing more. But then, Cory's words are connecting me back to the truth that I am a ragamuffin; a sinner saved by grace. I am sinful and I fail and I certainly don't get this walk with God right all of the time, but God is bigger than that. Where we fail, His grace abounds and strengthens. In our weakness and brokenness, He is sufficient. My calling in this life is to follow Jesus; to lose my life, follow His teachings, and seek to become more like Him. I am praying, over and over and over again, for God's grace to strengthen my weakness. That my actions and thoughts and words would reflect His character. For His light and goodness to be shown through me, in some small way, to the people in my life. 

What does it mean to be a "good person" for you? What do you think of Cory's words? Do you agree with what he's saying? What does it mean for the story you're living?  

dance party day.

Have I ever told you about my love of dance parties? Anywhere, anytime, with anyone ... I'm all about having dance parties. Singing into spoon-microphones and dancing on the dining room chairs are two things that happen often at Bethesda.

Today's a good dance party day. I don't know what your Saturday looks like, but mine includes cooking, creating, and hanging out with sweet Stella and Ruby later tonight. I'm busy and excited and joyful and I want to celebrate and dance.

Whether you're studying or hanging out at home or running around, I'd encourage you to make time for a dance party, if even for a few minutes. Make time for silly dance moves and singing into spoons. Your mind, your body, and your spirit will appreciate it. 

The song I've been dancing to the most today comes from Florence + The Machine's latest album. You'll want to scroll down to the bottom of my page, pause the playlist, and get on your dancing pants. 

Happy Saturday! 

What's your favorite dance party song?

unknown.

Today marks the first official day of winter break for me. Long gone are the days of 5:30 a.m. wake-ups, reflection papers, and days with to-do lists too long to complete. For a little while, anyway. I have just over four weeks until I start student teaching. No doubt these next weeks will be filled with reading, drinking copious amounts of tea, spending time with family, and starting to piece together what 2012 will look like. There are so many unknowns about the next year, just about everything come to think of it. Everything from where I'll be living to how I'll be spending my days and who I'll be spending them with is unknown. This brings a wave of emotion over me, ranging from fear to excitement to denial to downright terrified.

Earlier today, as I was driving home from a meeting that got me thinking about what these next months will look like, my mind was swirling with thoughts of the unknown. Where am I really being called? Is what I'm about to do really where God wants to use me? Can I even handle all of this? How can I possibly handle all of the transition that is coming in the next months? Where is God's voice in it? Is everything going to work out? 

As I was thinking and driving, my mind was hungry for scripture that would bring peace to the fears of the unknown. When I got home, I opened up my Bible to Luke 1:26-38, when the angel Gabriel came to Mary with the message that she was having a son, and she would name him Jesus. Israel's Messiah. Her child would be great in the sight of God, and called the “son of the Most High” (v. 32). He would reign forever on the throne of his father David (v. 32-33).

In those moments after hearing such great news, I can't imagine what Mary was thinking. Was she afraid? Terrified? Excited? Shocked? She was looking ahead at something entirely unknown, certainly not what she had planned for her life. She asks the angel for clarification, saying, "How will this be since I am a virgin?" (v. 34) The way that Mary phrases her question is really interesting to me. She doesn't necessarily ask for confirmation of the angel's news, she doesn't want to know if this is something that is happening. Instead, she asks for him to clarify how it's going to happen. How will the pregnancy happen? How will the plan unfold? The way that she asks makes me think that she believes this news, she just needs him to explain that plan. 

Gabriel explains what will happen to Mary, exactly how she will become pregnant. As a final word of encouragement, he tells her that nothing is impossible with God (v. 36-37). Mary's response? Behold, I am a servant of the Lord. Let it be to me according to your word (v. 38). 

I keep thinking about how brave and truly humble Mary was in answering God's call on her life. She responds with such trust to her heavenly Father and what He has so carefully planned for her life. God's call for Mary is something so great, so amazing, and something she did not have planned for her life. She responds courageously and openly, willing to open herself to the unknown. The angel comes and delivers this amazing news that changes the course of her life, and she responds with trust, knowing that the road of the unknown that she's about to start walking down is possible with God. She responds with unwavering faith, saying that she is the Lord's servant, desiring to follow His will for her life. 

As I look at my own life in the coming months, the unknowns of living and working and ministry and relationships, I am given a great sense of peace and comfort by this passage. God's plan is great, so much greater than mine, and He will reveal it to me in His timing. I want to use the weeks of winter break to quietly and silently sit at the feet of Jesus, listening for His path and His will. I want to know and believe that although the road ahead is unknown and seems impossible to travel, my traveling down it is not impossible with God. Advent is all about anticipation, and I want to anticipate the unknown with ears and eyes and arms open. I want to step into the unknown with the same bravery, faith, and trust that Mary does.

fearless.

Blogging is really hard for me. Have I ever told you that? It's really hard, consistently challenging me to work through the dark and unsettling truths about myself that I absolutely avoid working through. I mean, who really likes working through insecurity and self-doubt and self-esteem issues? Certainly not me. Regardless, these are the deeply rooted and painful issues that have followed me around my whole life. Heavy for a blog introduction, isn't it? Over and over and over again I've felt the weight of believing I am not good enough. In relationships. In my family. In my schoolwork. Leading Young Life. Should I really be surprised that writing a blog has been another area of my life that's challenging me to push through thinking that I am not good enough?

Every time I write a post, I go back and reread. I tell myself this is proofreading, but it's not. It's questioning, why did I post this? Who would anyone want to read it? Why did I even bother? Why do I think I'm a good writer? I toy with taking down my posts, thinking that they really aren't that good and no one wants to read them anyway. I convince myself, time and time again, that what I have to say isn't valuable, isn't worth being heard, isn't enough. Somehow, I am always able to convince myself that I'm not good enough, in just about every facet of my life. Believing that I am not enough has affected countless relationships, causing pain, frustration, and tension with people that I care about deeply and never intend to hurt. This way of thinking is the root of attention-seeking behavior. It's the birthplace of fishing-for-compliments and self-deprecating comments. Heck, thinking I am not enough is what's kept me a safe and extremely cautious distance from dating for so long. Believing that I am not good enough has affected far too many seasons and places and people and experiences in my life.

I can say with confidence and a smile that the past year has brought so much transformation in that way of thinking. I've been forced to confront the lies that I believe about myself. It's a lie to believe that I am not good enough. It's a lie to believe that I don't have value. Leading Young Life and living in Bethesda and Heather and Sam and Johanna and friendships with many other loving people have challenged me to see that I am good enough. I am worthy. I am worth being heard and I am valued. Summer staff challenged me in that immensely. Italy gave me space to process that. Prayer and reading the Bible and yearning for God's comfort and voice and truth have been at the center of that process. It's been messy, as learning and growing are always messy. Although I've grown in this past season, believing the lie that I'm not good enough is still a constant struggle. But now more than ever, I can say and believe the truth that my story must be told. I have sometime to say, and it's worth being heard. Daily, writing this blog challenges me in that.

My story must be told. Your story must be told, too. I've blogged about that before, but it's just so poignant. When we tell our stories, we're telling God's story. And that deserves to be told over and over and over again. There's power and impact and weight that comes with sharing our stories. Our stories have immense value and worth and deserve to be told. I want that truth to sink into my soul in the deepest places. I want to live and act out of that. I want that for you, too.

At my core, I want to be the kind of person who is fearless. I want to be fearless in sharing my story. I want to be bold and courageous and audacious and unashamed about the words I have to say. I want to be the kind of person who is real and transparent and vulnerable and honest about my story and my truth and my perspective. I want to make no more apologies for the way I am. This is who I am. I am encouraging and sensitive and a question-asker. I am welcoming and compassionate and thoughtful and full of smiles. I am not good at arguing and I don't like messes. I'm not complete and certainly don't have my life figured out. This is who I am. I don't want to apologize for it anymore. I don't want to hide and believe the lie that who I am isn't good enough and isn't worth sharing with the world. I want to boldly, courageously, and fearlessly share my story. My perspective. My truth.

I think the first step is to press the "publish post" button and not look back. No "proofreading." No second guessing. My words are good enough. My story must be told. 


How do you tell your story? Are you fearless in telling it? What kind of person do you want to be? 

true beauty.

True beauty is about creating life through harmony and unfading magnificence. It’s about accepting a power that stems from the unconditional love of God given to us before we exist and look any sort of way. This love creates what we really desire—validation. But as always, we must receive this love, let it nestle a home in our hearts—pulsing out to every part of our beings.




I feel like all over the blogoshpere this week, people are talking about beauty. I've read a few articles that are making my brain spin with thoughts. I'm sure there's a more legitimate post brewing about beauty, but that will have to wait until next week. The next few days will be a whirlwind ... Young Life Christmas parties and my pregnant sister is coming to Chicago! I am looking forward to quality time with some of my favorite people in the world, no doubt pondering the unique and real beauty each one of them possesses.



What does beautiful mean to you?

interruptions.

Have you read Sam's #thekindofperson post from yesterday? If not, you should read it before you start this post.

I had the opportunity to eat breakfast with Sam Tuesday morning. We ate vegan chocolate peanut butter cake. Be jealous. After reading her blog and listening to her describe #thekindofperson movement, I began thinking about the kind of person I want to be; how I want to live and experience and be and do. Aside from being the kind of person who joyfully eats cake for breakfast, something else struck me today.

Have you ever had one of those days where you feel like you're doing something wrong? Like you're not living the way you want to?  I had one of those days today. I felt selfish. All day long. And if I'm being honest, I feel like that a lot of days. There are so many days that I get caught up. I get so hyper-focused on crossing things off my to-do list, on running from here to there, on making sure I take my vitamins and get in a run and get eight hours of sleep and eat 5 fruits and vegetables a day and get all my homework done and have quiet time and read and blog and cook.

And what ends up happening? I ignore text messages and screen phone calls and selectively archive emails that I don't want to answer. I am selfish; too busy for interruptions. Interruptions head my way and I dig my stubborn heels into the ground and say, "No, no, no ... I have this and this and this to do. I have too much to do, and there's just no room for anything extra." That's not how I want to be living.

I want to be the kind of person who welcomes interruptions. I want to be the kind of person who, when interruptions come my way, puts down what I am working on and embraces the unexpected. Whether it be an unexpected phone call, a long conversation, a spontaneous dance party, or a last-minute project, I want to embrace it. I don't want to have such a set-in-stone plan that I forget to live open to the interruptions that life is bound to throw at me. I want welcoming interruptions to sink into my soul, to be a part of the way that I live, day in and day out. 

The more I think, the more I realize that interruptions sustain me. Interruptions are so life-giving, reminding me that life is not a story about me; that life to the full doesn't mean crossing things off your to-do list but living and experiencing everything that life has to offer. A long conversation with one of my roommates or a spontaneous phone call with my sister or a spur-of-the-moment trip to the store for study snacks or a quick dance party ... those moments bring more life than anything I could plan for. I am realizing that I can't plan for life to happen. Life will happen. Life happens in interruptions and unexpected moments, and I want to be the kind of person who welcomes them.

As I was walking home from yoga earlier, I had a very clear and simple plan for my evening. Put on pajamas, stat. Make tea. Snuggle in my bed in hopes of finishing the first season of Mad Man. Instead, I came home to a house full of roommates ready to put on ugly Christmas sweaters. I mean, isn't this what I was looking for? An opportunity to be intentional and welcome the unplanned. Sure, I could have gone downstairs and done my thing, but I would have missed out on a memory. I would have missed out on laughter and screaming and ugly Christmas sweaters and life as its meant to be lived. So, I was challenged to welcome the interruption. The end result? Hilarious, ridiculous, wonderfully awkward Bethesda Family Christmas pictures. 

posed awkward family photo. 

notice the symmetrical hand placement?

pointing with joy at this place that has been 

so transformative for each of us.

so much love. so much Christmas joy.

so much laughter. always.

a personal favorite, the "subtly ugly" picture. 

are we trying to look good? or is it just subtly ugly?

I would encourage you, over the next few days and weeks, to be thinking about the kind of person you want to be. Journal about it, blog about it, or tell your bestie about it. There's so much value in taking a step back and really thinking about who we want to be and how we want to be living. I am sure there will be more to come on #thekindofperson I want to be.