After a While

After a while you learn
The subtle difference between
Holding a hand and chaining a soul
And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn't always mean security.

And you begin to learn
That kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes ahead
With the grace of a woman
Not the grief of a child

And you learn
To build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground is
Too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way
Of falling down in mid flight

After a while you learn
That even sunshine burns if you get too much
So you plant your own garden
And decorate your own soul
Instead of waiting
For someone to bring you flowers

And you learn
That you really can endure
That you are really strong
And you really do have worth
And you learn and you learn
With every good bye you learn.

--Veronica A. Shoffstall

Serenity Place

I have recently begun volunteering at Serenity Place, a sort of halfway house for women with substance abuse problems. Sixteen women live together in this house. When they have therapy sessions, half of them go to therapy, and the other half stay and watch the children (around 35 kids, all under the age of 5). With a ratio of toddlers to women at 4:1, it's obvious that they could use some help. When I first signed up, I thought that I would be babysitting little brats. What actually ends up happening is that the kids entertain themselves, and the women just want someone to talk to. Most of them are there for a duration of six months, and they do not meet a lot of people from the "real" world.

As lame as this may sound, part of me can identify with these women. Bob Jones is kind of similar in that is forces a lifestyle on its students that is not their own. But truthfully, most of me doesn't identify with these women, although most of them are the same age as me or within a few years. Tonight one of them said, "I could be like you, if I wanted. I could have a career. But I made bad decisions. I knew what I was doing, but I did it anyway."

The same woman said that when she took her baby to the doctor today she gave the receptionist her address (at Serenity Place), and the receptionist changed her attitude, saying, "Oh, I know that address." It's amazing how we take a tiny bit of pride in others' mistakes, thinking that at least our problems aren't "that bad". We're pathetic.

All that to say that Serenity Place really is playing a part in changing and shaping me, and I'm thankful.

Pacifist

I don't care about you
Or your red balloon
But something in your eyes
Wistful, longing
Makes me pretend
For a moment
That I still do

I'm back

Work has been so crazy stressful the past few weeks that I have winced at the thought of even touching my laptop when I come home. I know myself too well, and I know that something I see online will trigger a memory of work, and I will undoubtedly check my e-mail "really quickly." Before I know it, I'm sucked in. Maybe I'm a workaholic, or maybe part of me didn't even want to place my fingers on another keyboard.

The craziness has calmed temporarily, and my level of stress has diminished significantly.

I spent most of my non-working hours (which weren't very many, trust me) involved in hot yoga and taking long baths.

And I'm reading again. For some time books have not been able to pique my interest at all. I'm very thankful that that season is over.

I become more and more convinced that the person I am manifests itself in stages. Parts of me, of course, will never change, but life is full of phases and periods and semesters and seasons. Appetites and preferences change. And life goes on.

Loving life.

Stole this...

from Rachel Mitchell

Excrement!

Why do we feel the need to analyze everything to death? We like everything in our lives to fit, to balance. We definitely don't want to think of our lives as mathematically based, but in essence, that is what we desire.

A poignant scene from Dead Poets Society dismisses the idea that poetry (or any form of art) can be reduced to a mathematical formula.



One thing I hope and pray that I grasp about life is that it cannot be analyzed and forced into linear equations. While God gave us reason and intellect, he also gave us emotions. Sometimes life just can't be put into words.

One day I will have clouds on my wall

At Bob Jones, every student is forced given the privilege to take a long tour through the Museum & Gallery, which is actually a "prime" Greenville attraction. It is one of the largest collections of religious art in the country. I was nerdy and loved it, but I had enough sense to pretend like I hated it to stay cool. Anyway, fourth semester Spanish required this huge project on Spanish art, and I spent a LOT of time in the M&G. I can't say I regretted it; it only deepened my respect and appreciation for the arts.

In art, the color blue represents hope (very understated definition, I know). It makes complete sense. I used to stare up into the sky and wish its blueness would just envelop me. I felt like the sky was its own world, and we earthlings were only allowed a glimpse into its depths.

My love of the sky and clouds continues. It's so strong that this afternoon I hung up on my friend and nearly wrecked my car trying to take pictures of the gorgeous sunset with my phone.

"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands."

dreaming out loud

I stumbled upon this site that is a goldmine of w.c. pelon's poetry and immediately fell in love. I want this poem written all pretty and placed on my wall to make me smile every day:

there is no justice
no truth no forgiveness
no getting around it
and no turning back

there are only shadows
of you and me

and splinters of light
where hope breaks between

Axel Haunts Me Everywhere I Go

One of my lifelong dreams is to have a library in my house. Just a small library, nothing huge like the Stockholm Public Library:
Am I a total nerd for putting this on my list of places to visit? Victoria Falls, Grand Canyon, Stockholm Public Library... (And I even loathe Scandinavians).

Yes, please

This picture is calling my name. I have 41(ish) hours of PTO I need to take before the end of December. Beach, anyone?

Prayer

There is a moment between intending to pray and actually praying that is as dark and silent as any moment in our lives. It is the split second between thinking about praying and really praying. For some of us, this split second may last for decades. It seems, then, that the greatest obstacle to prayer is the simple nature of beginning. . . . How easy it is, and yet-- Between us and the possibility of prayer there seems to be a great gulf fixed: an abyss of our own making that separates us from God.

--Emilie Griffin

Aerie Changed My Life

My store manager at aerie recently turned in her two weeks' notice. Even the thought of her absence at the store brought me to tears, because Lauren is the heart and soul of aerie. She is aerie 24/7. For a while now I've been thinking about writing how aerie has impacted my life, but the more I thought about it, especially in light of recent events, I realize that it hasn't been a company that has changed my life. Companies are merely things--nebulous groups. But those groups consist of people. And while aerie did change my life, the truth is that it happened through Lauren.

I started working at aerie about a year and a half ago, and more than my wardrobe has changed since then. I have had a wide range of work experiences, and have found that generally a company is either action oriented or people oriented--never both. I found that seeming contradiction of both at aerie. I still remember immediately evaluating the company as goal oriented, because "at the end of the day, the numbers tell the story." And I was right in that evaluation. But what I found to be more and more true was that the story behind the numbers is people. Relationships are crucial, because people are loyal to people, but through that relationship, you find the way to the numbers. One is not more important than the other--they go hand-in-hand. The reason aerie is so successful, the reason aerie creates brand-loyal customers is that people are loyal to people, and at aerie we believe in fostering relationships.

Aerie girls are able to invest in customers because time is invested in us. Lauren was not a leader who merely corrected our actions--she also corrected our attitudes and thoughts. She taught us how to work hard no matter what we were doing--from running trash and stealing random carts to selling bras. She didn't hesitate to correct us, and she was always liberal with praise.

I learned to love who I am. I learned that it's ok if I am a nerd or if I love Hannah Montana or if I love to dance but really suck at it. I learned to take risks to ensure my happiness. I learned that it really is ok to make mistakes and to learn from them. It's even ok to repeat the same mistakes--it's not the end of the world. I learned that we eat salads so we can eat pounds of chocolate. I learned that I can love my job, and I should love my job. Sometimes I won't love my job, but no matter what, I should have a job that I am passionate about and believe in.

I hope aerie doesn't lose that focus. I hope it doesn't become more of a goal-oriented workplace and less like a family, because that will be the day that they lose half their focus. But no matter what happens, what I've learned and how I've changed is irreversible.

Thank you, Lauren, for the impact you've had on my life. For making me realize who I am and embrace that, just by being yourself and living in front of us. By making mistakes and admitting them and by believing in yourself but trusting in things bigger than yourself. I've grown in ways I can't even explain, and a big part of that has been because of you.

From a friend

Don't Put Me in a Box

I think it is interesting that we have one perception of a person. We see a person in one dimension and think we know that person well, when we really only know a certain person in a certain setting. In some settings I might be more outgoing than in other settings. I may be forceful and opinionated around certain people and quiet and reserved around others. I might come across as timid to some and fearless to others. I have heard all of these words used to describe me recently. I’m certainly not the same person in every setting. At work I am a workaholic, but at home I am quite lazy. Someone who sees me in one setting knows only one aspect of who I am. I get frustrated when people think they know who I am or think they know everything about me when in fact they have only seen one part of who I really am. I am not a flat character—I am round and developing. I change. I am not who I used to be, and I will not be the same person tomorrow. I make no apologies for that. If you think I’m timid, fine, but you’re wrong. On the flip-side, if you think I’m stubborn and headstrong, that’s true, but it’s also very false.

The frustration makes me wonder how many people I perceive as flat characters in my mind. I know I put people in a box. I think people are exactly who I see them as in a certain situation, then I am surprised to find that a beautiful girl is an amazing skateboarder (is that a word?), or I think someone is acting out of character when he gets angry. I am amazed when I hear a story of my parents’ past, although these are people I’ve known all my life. By putting people in a box, I also judge them without knowing their motives or thoughts or past history. Life is complex. People are even more complex. I shouldn’t pretend to understand or grasp the full meaning of any situation. It makes me realize exactly how little I really do know, exactly how finite my tiny little brain is...

The day forever died

I can't believe that you're gone, without a trace
I can't believe you've got no tears upon your face
While mine is soaking wet, making up for your lack I guess

That's how it is in love, or out of love as I sit now
Without you next to me, wishing things that just can't be

It's all that I can do
To sit back and watch it all blow through

Should've been so good
Could've been so right
That was before the day forever died
Wishing on what-ifs
Taking my chances
That was before the day forever died

There's nothing left to be said, its all been spoken
In spite of words you could not find for me
I guess you came out ahead, and now I'm broken
Into a man ashamed to show his face

Walking away seems so easy for you
So why's it gotta be so hard for me
To see that it's over
But for so long, love was just you and me

Leaving

I did recently realize that I have been unfairly using my blog to post things about which I am angry, which makes me sound as if I am bitter and grouchy. The truth is, I am not. I am fairly content with life and other such circumstances. Just wanted to clear that up.

I always pick up Donald Miller's Through Painted Deserts when I know I'm beginning to be especially materialistic. He tells about his journey from Texas to Oregon in an old VW van that dies most of the time. While reading, a section of this stood out to me, because this is where I live.

"So soon you will be in that part of the book where you are holding the bulk of the pages in your left hand, and only a thin wisp of the story in your right. You will know by the page count, not by the narrative, that the Author is wrapping things up...

"And so my prayer is that your story will have involved some leaving and some coming home, some summer and some winter, some roses blooming out like children in a play. My hope is your story will be about changing... about moving yourself around water, around mountains, around friends, about learning to love others more than we love ourselves, about learning oneness as a way of understanding God. We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and the resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn't it?

"It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out.

"I want to repeat one word for you:

"Leave."

Pull Me Out

Tell me now, when does this start feeling
Like I understand everything I'm dealing with
First I was young, now it's all just happening.
And what about the way I said that
Made you turn around and shake your head
Like I don't even know what I'm asking for.

Remember when I was young and hungry,
I could take it in without much money,
I had nothing at all but dreams and time to kill.
And now I feel like I'm treading water,
And I'm hardly real--I'm just trying harder
To make my way on the earth by standing still.

I can't get my feet off of the ground.
I wanna run, but I don't know how.
Can you reach down here and pull me out?
Can you pull me out? Yeah,
I wanna scream, but there's no sound.
I wanna fly to you somehow.
Can you reach down here and pull me out?
Can you pull me out?

Not a moment too soon you will be my rescue.
But tell me how long will it take?

Livin' on dreams and spaghetti-o's, wonderin' where my life is gonna go

There are certain moods that surface in one's self late at night. For me, there tend to be three different moods: whiny and sleepy, giddy and hyper, or pensive and melancholy. Tonight is a pensive and melancholy one.

My mother recently told me that my life is going nowhere. Although this was a desperate plea to convince me to move back home, the accusation still sticks with me. Where is my life going? I am only 22, and it's okay to still be figuring that out right? Do people ever really know where life is going? Because no one can ever see the curves and potholes life contains, I guess I've always figured it's better to wander aimlessly with only a skeleton of a plan. Now I'm rethinking that thesis, wondering if I should have a game plan for life, complete with alternate routes and secondary and tertiary plans.

One of my friends told everyone her post-college plans were teaching in a school back home. The teaching job was no more than a possibility, but it provided an answer for alllll those people who asked where her life was going. It's tempting to do that, and that's basically what I've been doing. It gives me a small sense of control to say that I have a "plan."

No one takes a college graduate seriously who claims to have no direction in her life save wherever God sees fit to send her. And for that reason, I persist in making up the answer to those goal questions on applications. I continue to bullshit people whenever they ask what's next in my life. I pick one of my "options" and run with it. Remember, perception is reality.

I Know Why Baptists Become Atheists

A few days ago I was assaulted in the parking lot of a "prestigious" university by a student. The student had followed me all night prior to the physical and verbal contact. After the encounter, the attacker followed me halfway home. I nearly called the cops.

One would think that the university, which cares more about its reputation than its students, would attempt to control the violence, but apparently a person has to merely say he is sorry and quote some Bible verses in order for true repentance to begin in his heart. Never mind the fact that I have bruises or that I never received the apology.

Another interesting drama has unfolded with a different student at this God-fearing school. Slander is an easy and powerful weapon, and I have recently become a victim. In my entire life I have never encountered such poisonous hatred as recently, at this school claiming to be a "city on a hill"--a light to the dark world around it. And it is not only the school that assumes this "Christlike" reputation but the hateful students as well.

I am not perfect. I do a lot of things wrong. And being spiteful does not necessarily mean that the joy of the Lord does not dwell in you. But I do know this: a person who repeatedly lies for no other reason than to hurt another person should not claim Christ.

All this to say that I'm sick of it. I'm sick of the lies and the labels and the boxes and the claims to know God. I'm sick of the slander and the hatred and the violence. I think I can sympathize with Paul, who was sick of the crap and exclaimed, "That's not the way you learned Christ!" (Eph 4: 20, paraphrased) Satan is corrupting the church. He is twisting it and perverting it. But I'm sick of hearing from the fundies that it is the contemporary church that is the perversion. The problem is with those prestigious, conservative fundamentalists who can't see past their rules and check boxes. (If it falls into certain guidelines, it's ok. If it doesn't follow the guidelines, it's bad.)

Can we just get back to the gospel, please?

Rilke

Angel!: If there were a place that we didn't know of, and there,
on some unsayable carpet, lover displayed
what they could never bring to mastery here--the bold
exploits of their high-flying hearts,
their towers of pleasure, their ladders
that have long since been standing where there was no ground, leaning
just on each other, trembling,--and could master all this,
before the surrounding spectators, the innumerable soundless dead;
Would these, then, throw down their final, forever saved-up,
forever hidden, unknown to us, eternally valid
coins of happiness before the at last
genuinely smiling pair on the gratified
carpet?