Oh look, it's been a month

My passionate love for poetry has recently been rekindled--partly due to an evening spent reading Milton in a dusty used book store in Lawrence. After buying several books of poetry and reading through them when I ought to be translating Latin, I stumbled upon this little gem which rather made my heart skip a beat.

Midcentury Love Letter

Phyllis McGinley

Stay near me. Speak my name. Oh, do not wander
By a thought's span, heart's impulse, from the light
We kindle here. You are my sole defender
(As I am yours) in this precipitous night,
Which over earth, till common landmarks alter,
Is falling, without stars, and bitter cold.
We two have but our burning selves for shelter.
Huddle against me. Give me your hand to hold.

So might two climbers lost in mountain weather
On a high slope and taken by the storm,
Desperate in the darkness, cling together
Under one cloak and breathe each other warm.
Stay near me. Spirit, perishable as bone,
In no such winter can survive alone.

I'm honestly not sure it could get any sweeter than that.


And if this has whetted your appetite, may I suggest reading Homework for Annabelle as well...and really anything else by this wonderful woman, Phyllis McGinley.

North Pole, Alaska

Whoever you are in my feedjit, I think you're awesome.

Also, keep the cold weather up there, ok?

Thanks.

It Feels Like a Semester Again

Here we are, nearly 1:45 am, and I'm finally calling it quits on my studying, after cramming for hours at the cafe, then the library, then finally back "home." I made the mistake of ordering a coffee at 7 pm though, and now I'm completely wired and most likely will be for the next few hours. Thank goodness it's the weekend and there isn't anything too important occurring in the morning.

But here we'll deviate away from my current mental state (though I fear it will show through in my grammar and syntax) and instead talk about the whole Sophomore and God thing.

Like I said in my last post a few days ago, I've never felt so much peace before in life. Perhaps there's something almost "simple" about living off in a different state, working where I know few people, and hanging out with my textbooks in the evening. It's so completely different and so unlike anything I've done before that I can't help but see God in every single minute of it, and thus it is restful, even though I often feel as though I'll never get everything done I need to.

Time management.

That's one of the things that I asked prayer for before leaving, and so far God has answered.

*sigh* This post isn't going at all where I had intended it to go. Granted, there was no particular plan when I began so that may explain some of it. Caffeine is responsible for the rest.

Did I think I would be chatting it up with senators and lobbyists on a daily basis as a sophomore in college? Most definitely not. When I look at this life that God has given me and everything that He has me doing right now, I never would have guessed any of it. But then I take that as even another inclination that I am right where He wants me to be. It's not as if I worked hard because I was aspiring to be where I am at this moment in my life. It's a God thing, and I'm purely along for the ride.

In Sunday School last week we were talking about living the Christian life, and what kind of a perspective we are supposed to have. I personally was pondering the difference it makes when one wakes up in the morning and asks, "What is God's agenda today?" rather than, "What is my agenda today?" Suddenly our greatest successes come measured by a totally different standard. Most importantly though, our focus shifts and we need not worry about what others think, because we live for the opinion of One.

Another random thought: today while I was studying in the cafe there were two ladies sitting next to me talking. It felt as though God was telling me to go talk to them, but I kept saying to myself "I've got this Latin due in six hours, I have to finish it! If I had more time I definitely would."

And suddenly I shuddered at my own thoughts.

My Latin assignment, more important than sharing the gospel?

My Latin assignment more important than someone else's life?

How arrogant was I? How much hate did I have in my heart for these people that I wasn't willing to lay my pencil down for a few moments?

As if a lower grade was somehow so vital, so important, so absolutely necessary that I could see it as legitimately competing with whether or not I should get up and go talk to these two ladies.

So I got up and went over.

It didn't really go anywhere, but God got His point across to me I think. He showed me how terrifyingly selfish and ignorant I am. I really don't understand the gospel. I don't think I've ever wrapped my mind around the concept that every single human being, by their own decisions, is damned to true and real torment for eternity if they don't turn to God and beg forgiveness. I've grown up so Christianized that I don't realize that there are people who truly don't believe in God, truly don't believe He sent His son to die for the sins of the world and that the only way to be saved from our own fallenness is to throw ourselves on His mercy and grace. I don't get it. But hopefully the cafe encounter will stick with me longer than most things do and have a real impact on my life.

Caffeine is still strong, but I'm getting droopy.

Cleaning, shopping, studying, and hopefully fun things are on the agenda for tomorrow.

I've found my favorite place here: something that this town actually has on home. A freakishly amazing library. I'll be hanging out there a ton I hope.

Goodnight.

Er, Good morning I guess.

Remember the Gospel. That's what it's all about.

Hello New Year

Someone reminded me I had a blog and they told me I ought to post again. So here I am, sitting in my new state of Kansas, doing my best to juggle work and school while sustaining some level of sanity, getting enough sleep to ward of the inner grouch which threatens to boil out at 7:15 am when I leave for work, and still fitting in time to talk with friends and family, eat, and text. It's an adventure, to be sure: One that so far is looking rather optimistic. Perhaps at the end of the semester I will look back and say it was the best four months of my life? But with life I'm finding that it only gets better as it goes along.

I've had a lot of things on my mind; most of which will not be completely written about (especially right now, as it is late, my lunch is calling to be made, and my body is begging for the wonders of bed). But just so you don't keel over from curiosity, they involve dancing, Latin, dresses, and the awesome things that God is doing for me.

I'm not sure I have ever felt this much peace in my life before.

It's truly wonderful.

Now I have fulfilled my duty to acknowledge the existence of my blog. Perhaps after Friday is passed and I have submitted the pages of Latin translation which will be completed between now and then, I shall get around to delving into just why I love where God has me right now.

The semester is over

There was stress.
There were tears.
There was exhaustion, discouragement, and depression.
But there was also joy, growth, and heart-soaring moments of wonder.

God was good.
God has always been good.
And he always will be good.

This girl is done. For about three weeks...

Now begins the checking-the-courses-every-two-hours-waiting-for-final-grades-to-be-released phenomena.

Lovely how that works.

2:35 AM

and still going strong. Oh how I love coffee...and hate  finals week.

Big news everyone; this girl is moving to Kansas.

Apparently the moving-on-campus saga is going to take a semester break while I run south to do some secretarying (I am aware that isn't a real word. Thank you). God is good though; He's working everything out spendidly. I'm getting credit for it and everything.

THREE WEEKS! *deep breath*

Now, back to Latin translation.

I will survive.

Yes.

For the girls

At least, the ones who like to drool over shoes....

Click here and be amazed.

Theodore J. Bear

My mommy found him :)

While Owl City is Playing and I Should be Sleeping...

Life. I've been thinking a lot about it lately...the ups and downs, the joys and sorrows, the moments that make you shriek with excitement and those that make you want to rip your hair out from frustration/anger/terror/Latin.

It's a beautiful thing, really. Beautiful in a complex, never-to-be-fully-understood-this-side-of-heaven way. There will always be many things that never quite make sense. There will be what-ifs and if-onlys. It's a roller coaster of insanity, oftentimes leaving you with the sense of drowning in circumstances you cannot change or overcome or endure.

But in the midst of the insanity, uncertainty, mad excitement, and general complexity there is one thing that always remains the same. God. I can't wrap my mind around that concept. It gives me goosebumps as I lay in bed thinking about it at night. No matter what life throws my way, I've got the strongest, bestest person in the whole world just waiting for me to go running into His arms for safety, comfort and strength.

Though I can't ever fully understand God or why on earth He would ever want to listen to me, there is one thing I do understand: I can look at my life--the good and the bad, the pretty and the ugly, the confusing, the heartbreaking, the exciting, the uncertain, the happiness, the giddiness of college-age existence--and see it as one brilliant adventure. Why? Because I'm learning--albeit with baby steps--what a child-like faith is.

The older I get (yes, I am aware how silly that sounds coming from someone with their teen years barely behind them) the more I become a little girl in my relationship with God. I used to think I had to hold it together. I had to show God how strong I was. I could do it, He just had to help me out. I was impressive.

No more.

I figured out--after way too long trying--that that approach just doesn't work, both because I can't hold it all together, and because that's not what God wants. So now there's no more pretending. God sees all my  little girl tears, all my little girl fears, all my little girl giddiness, and all my little girl thoughts. It would be embarrassing with anyone else, but not God. He is my Father, after all. There is a freedom in coming to Him as his daughter...His little girl looking up at Him with big eyes, wanting to hold His hand as we skip through the wonders of life together.

When life gives me ice cream topped with fresh cherries on warm summer days, I can run to God and sheepishly admit how excited I am. And when the winds rage and destroy, and the sky throws down angry tears, I can run to God, jump in His arms, and know that I am in the safest place possible. He loves me. Me. Little college-kid me. Wow. No matter how many times He reminds me of that fact I still feel like I'm in a fairy tale. Honestly, could there be anything better in life? Absolutely not.