Today is my last full day here in NC.
Although I know i am leaving a place that has blessed me in ways I never suspected, I also feel much peace about going home.
I know I go back a different person. This does not scare me. It makes me proud. I feel a little bit more grown-up and ready to tackle a bigger piece of life. I want to go back to the church where I came from and see if I still fit there.
It's funny how many things can change in four years. I was reminiscing with a friend I met in college about how we've known each other through some tough times. I am glad I have someone like that in my life because when we talk about different topics there is a mutual understanding of where that other person has been. They will always be there for me. In the same way, I know I will always be there for them. Our kids will probably be friends! (ha. well, once can always hope).
Four years ago I was a scared college freshmen who didn't talk to anyone. I always ate alone in the dining center because I wasn't all that outgoing. I had a really fun neighbor who came into my room and asked me for homework advice. We still remain good friends. I also played and marched in the marching band.
The beginning of my sophomore year began in turmoil and tragedy with my mom's death. I lost myself to a world of grief and tried very hard to keep busy with all my classes. I didn't want to think about anything. I also began learning guitar that year and had the very painful experience of learning guitar right-handed only to have to switch to playing left-handed. Sigh. I think I cried the night my guitar teacher told me I would have to start over.
My junior year started out OK but got really emotional as I moved into my own apartment quite against my own wishes or desires. It was a very lonely yet beautiful semester. I wrestled with feeling unloved, unwanted, and unbeautiful. In this darkness I also found rescue. I learned to deal with some of the grief that had built up since my mom's death. I couldn't run from it anymore.
My senior year I was very happy. I came back to school after experiencing a truly amazing summer. I was feeling confident and ready for the world. Then that fall Paul came into my life. A blessing that I did not ask for, did not expect, and in some ways was overwhelmed by. It was a sweet beautiful time of learning what it was like to love and be loved in a more intimate way.
Now here I sit. Technically graduated I suppose. I feel just in the last four years I have lived a lifetime.
This semester has only added to the beauty and fullness of my life.
I find my life stream a river mixed with joy and sorrow, with pain and temptation, with love, and with life. I am all these things at once. As I continue to live, I can only hope that life has more in store for me. I look forward to this next stage even as I fear it.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
It was Worth It
I know sometimes I feel like ranting and raving about the church. About how sometimes they get things so wrong.
But in truth, I was reminded today of how much of a blessing it is to have a community of people with which to wrestle through life. As I attended my last church here, I felt so very blessed. These people have made a huge impact on me and I am so grateful for their acceptance of me.
I came here with a lot of questions and a lot of frustrations about the church in general. Here, I found a community focused on reaching out instead of judging. It was and is about love.
I know I have a family here.
Today I realized that these people. The people in my lifegroup, the coffee shop, the Friday night music....they made it all worth it. This semester was hard, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I met and got to know some beautiful souls. They made me laugh, they sometimes came so weary about life, but we were there together. It was beautiful.
Thank you Confluence and the River Church.
You will always be part of who I am and have written unforgettable lessons on my heart.
The church can be an easy thing to run from. This place made it hard to be determined to walk away.
But in truth, I was reminded today of how much of a blessing it is to have a community of people with which to wrestle through life. As I attended my last church here, I felt so very blessed. These people have made a huge impact on me and I am so grateful for their acceptance of me.
I came here with a lot of questions and a lot of frustrations about the church in general. Here, I found a community focused on reaching out instead of judging. It was and is about love.
I know I have a family here.
Today I realized that these people. The people in my lifegroup, the coffee shop, the Friday night music....they made it all worth it. This semester was hard, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I met and got to know some beautiful souls. They made me laugh, they sometimes came so weary about life, but we were there together. It was beautiful.
Thank you Confluence and the River Church.
You will always be part of who I am and have written unforgettable lessons on my heart.
The church can be an easy thing to run from. This place made it hard to be determined to walk away.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Beginnings
I was reading through my old text messages today (mostly because my inbox was 80% full) and the ones I found most interesting were the ones between Paul and I when we first started dating.
Ha. I mean, there are ALL levels of cheesiness in those first texts. We didn't have a care in the world. We just thought each other was the best thing ever since sliced bread!
Even since August when I came out here, our relationship has changed. It's not all fluff. It's hard to have fluff and sweetness when you don't see each other very often. I mean, you can't really be cute together when you aren't together.
Yet we have deepened and grown together, BECAUSE it's not all fluff. Paul and I have many many deep conversations on the phone that we would never have had six months ago. With the time that has passed, we have grown. I always tell paul different situations, like, what would you do if I did this or that, how would you react? And he does the same.
I can't really say if I yearn for those times when we just loved each other and didn't have any serious things between us. There are benefits to both.
However, I like that he knows me deeper and that he can see what's all behind the fluff and still love me. And I like that I can do the same for him.
In other news: I am done with my student teaching. Perhaps I will write more about this later but for now that's all I have to say about that.
Ha. I mean, there are ALL levels of cheesiness in those first texts. We didn't have a care in the world. We just thought each other was the best thing ever since sliced bread!
Even since August when I came out here, our relationship has changed. It's not all fluff. It's hard to have fluff and sweetness when you don't see each other very often. I mean, you can't really be cute together when you aren't together.
Yet we have deepened and grown together, BECAUSE it's not all fluff. Paul and I have many many deep conversations on the phone that we would never have had six months ago. With the time that has passed, we have grown. I always tell paul different situations, like, what would you do if I did this or that, how would you react? And he does the same.
I can't really say if I yearn for those times when we just loved each other and didn't have any serious things between us. There are benefits to both.
However, I like that he knows me deeper and that he can see what's all behind the fluff and still love me. And I like that I can do the same for him.
In other news: I am done with my student teaching. Perhaps I will write more about this later but for now that's all I have to say about that.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Pieces
We are all over the place
Our blood is spilling out
We see who we are
And we want to only walk away.
I've cried a thousand tears
And am destined to cry a thousand more
My heart is cut in two
As you are cut in two.
O God
Must you leave us like this?
In this empty painful place?
I am weary.
My heart grows heavier
With the pain of others.
I weep with the tears of the prophets
Who looked upon their people.
And experienced the sorrow of a thousand hearts.
Who am I that you have even looked my way?
Broken.
It's all broken.
Wholeness is a tale of heaven.
I am
Broken.
Who am I that you have even looked my way?
Our lives are just broken pieces.
And so we take the broom
As our tears wet the floor
We sweep up the pieces
And we stare at our lives in our hands.
The pieces slip through our fingers and into the past.
The cracks in the glass
Cause it to shatter
We are in the corner,
Cut and bleeding.
These are Your children.
Maybe we just weren't meant to be
This way
Broken.
Bleeding.
I cry out with the shouts of a thousand broken hearts.
Our tears run over as the pieces float away.
And again wholeness seems to be a tale of heaven.
Our blood is spilling out
We see who we are
And we want to only walk away.
I've cried a thousand tears
And am destined to cry a thousand more
My heart is cut in two
As you are cut in two.
O God
Must you leave us like this?
In this empty painful place?
I am weary.
My heart grows heavier
With the pain of others.
I weep with the tears of the prophets
Who looked upon their people.
And experienced the sorrow of a thousand hearts.
Who am I that you have even looked my way?
Broken.
It's all broken.
Wholeness is a tale of heaven.
I am
Broken.
Who am I that you have even looked my way?
Our lives are just broken pieces.
And so we take the broom
As our tears wet the floor
We sweep up the pieces
And we stare at our lives in our hands.
The pieces slip through our fingers and into the past.
The cracks in the glass
Cause it to shatter
We are in the corner,
Cut and bleeding.
These are Your children.
Maybe we just weren't meant to be
This way
Broken.
Bleeding.
I cry out with the shouts of a thousand broken hearts.
Our tears run over as the pieces float away.
And again wholeness seems to be a tale of heaven.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Seeker
She wonders down the road
Knocking on the doors she comes to
She is an endless seeker
Never content with what she finds
Each door brings more
Pain and wrinkles to her eyes
Who will take her in?
The doors she tries
Are either locked,
Or condemned.
She remembers
Once she went down a path
And she was loved.
Yet now she feels there is nowhere to call home
Nowhere safe.
If only she could find that path again.
Maybe she could find her way back
To those who love her.
Instead of seeing criticism and disregard,
She would see love.
She has been called beloved
But that voice gets harder and harder to hear
Those other things she hears about herself,
She may soon begin to believe.
And maybe the voice will be silenced.
Love will be behind one of the many locked doors
She can't get into.
She is running now.
Running past the houses and the doors
The rain begins and her own tears fall.
Soon she is out of breath
She sinks into a heap of sobs.
Love whispers.
It does not pick her up but sinks down with her.
Arms are wrapped around.
She isn't alone.
Love reminds her that though flawed
She is beautiful.
She may be stubborn, hard to live with sometimes,
And messy,
But Love says,
You are beautiful.
Let no one tell you no less. May lovers of all kinds remember to remind each other of their beauty. Despite differences and frustrations.
Knocking on the doors she comes to
She is an endless seeker
Never content with what she finds
Each door brings more
Pain and wrinkles to her eyes
Who will take her in?
The doors she tries
Are either locked,
Or condemned.
She remembers
Once she went down a path
And she was loved.
Yet now she feels there is nowhere to call home
Nowhere safe.
If only she could find that path again.
Maybe she could find her way back
To those who love her.
Instead of seeing criticism and disregard,
She would see love.
She has been called beloved
But that voice gets harder and harder to hear
Those other things she hears about herself,
She may soon begin to believe.
And maybe the voice will be silenced.
Love will be behind one of the many locked doors
She can't get into.
She is running now.
Running past the houses and the doors
The rain begins and her own tears fall.
Soon she is out of breath
She sinks into a heap of sobs.
Love whispers.
It does not pick her up but sinks down with her.
Arms are wrapped around.
She isn't alone.
Love reminds her that though flawed
She is beautiful.
She may be stubborn, hard to live with sometimes,
And messy,
But Love says,
You are beautiful.
Let no one tell you no less. May lovers of all kinds remember to remind each other of their beauty. Despite differences and frustrations.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Thoughts on Professionalism.
Why is it that when a teen wears all black clothes, black lipstick, mascara, or has many piercings it is sometimes called self-expression and when an adult does the same it might be called "unprofessional"?
Perhaps growing up is so hard because we let our young people slide by with "self-expression". How does this prepare them for a world in which conformity seems to be necessary, especially in the working world?
Of course, there are jobs where you can wear all-black and have a lot of piercings.
I suppose sometimes it seems we have certain expectations of different age-groups. This is acceptable and developmentally we need those expectations, but shouldn't our expectations of teenagers be more closely aligned with those of adults?
I can't wear whatever I want to my job, but I could wear whatever I wanted to my college classes. I could wear almost anything I wanted to wear in high school. Shouldn't we have higher expectations of our young people and people in general? Perhaps if we treated them like the young adults they are, they would act like young adults. They wouldn't feel the need to get everyone's attention by wearing "different clothes" or by being "goth" or anything. Maybe.
I guess sometimes I get frustrated by the gap between young adulthood and adulthood. People have all sorts of expectations for you once you are an "adult" and suddenly how you were or who you were is no longer good enough. Your jeans and t-shirts must be put away and only worn on Saturdays. (PS I'm mostly talking about the professional world). Suddenly I "should" (though I don't) blow-dry my hair every morning to look professional. Sometimes it irks me because no one told me these things in high school. We could be whoever we wanted to be and mostly everyone just called it "self-expression" or "identity". I don't mind looking professional, I just wish sometimes that I didn't feel like I was playing someone else's role in these clothes. I'm just not that kinda girly girl.
Sigh. Just my soapbox for the day.
Perhaps growing up is so hard because we let our young people slide by with "self-expression". How does this prepare them for a world in which conformity seems to be necessary, especially in the working world?
Of course, there are jobs where you can wear all-black and have a lot of piercings.
I suppose sometimes it seems we have certain expectations of different age-groups. This is acceptable and developmentally we need those expectations, but shouldn't our expectations of teenagers be more closely aligned with those of adults?
I can't wear whatever I want to my job, but I could wear whatever I wanted to my college classes. I could wear almost anything I wanted to wear in high school. Shouldn't we have higher expectations of our young people and people in general? Perhaps if we treated them like the young adults they are, they would act like young adults. They wouldn't feel the need to get everyone's attention by wearing "different clothes" or by being "goth" or anything. Maybe.
I guess sometimes I get frustrated by the gap between young adulthood and adulthood. People have all sorts of expectations for you once you are an "adult" and suddenly how you were or who you were is no longer good enough. Your jeans and t-shirts must be put away and only worn on Saturdays. (PS I'm mostly talking about the professional world). Suddenly I "should" (though I don't) blow-dry my hair every morning to look professional. Sometimes it irks me because no one told me these things in high school. We could be whoever we wanted to be and mostly everyone just called it "self-expression" or "identity". I don't mind looking professional, I just wish sometimes that I didn't feel like I was playing someone else's role in these clothes. I'm just not that kinda girly girl.
Sigh. Just my soapbox for the day.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Love
I was watching the show called the "Secret Lives of Women" last night. It was very interesting.
It was about a man who was like 40 and was undergoing hormone shots and some major surgeries to change his sex to female. He said that he wanted his outside to match what he felt inside.
Paul and I sometimes joke around about gender and sexuality. I always find it interesting to think about gender, sexuality, and our society.
As I watched, I tried to understand where he soon to be she was coming from and I tried to think about what it would be like to feel like a man on the inside but be a woman on the inside. Would I also feel the need to undergo operations and shots? I don't know. The show was kind of like a mini-documentary about this man's journey. The most engaging parts to me were the reactions of his friends and family as he began the process. Some of them said, "I don't have to understand, but I love Chris and I'm here to support him."
In the final moments of the show, Chris now Christine was returning from overseas and his operations to introduce herself to family and friends as the woman he had become.
I have to admit, I cried. Because as soon as she walked in her mom hugged her and told her how precious she was. And this mom looked like the traditional no funny business type. But when I saw her mother's love overwhelm all other things, I couldn't help but be reminded of the power of love. Here her son had undergone all of these things and changed himself completely, and she welcomed him now her into her arms. I couldn't help but think. See. Love. It's about love. Not about gender or sexuality or who loves who.
Love.
The greatest of these is love.
Will you choose love?
It was about a man who was like 40 and was undergoing hormone shots and some major surgeries to change his sex to female. He said that he wanted his outside to match what he felt inside.
Paul and I sometimes joke around about gender and sexuality. I always find it interesting to think about gender, sexuality, and our society.
As I watched, I tried to understand where he soon to be she was coming from and I tried to think about what it would be like to feel like a man on the inside but be a woman on the inside. Would I also feel the need to undergo operations and shots? I don't know. The show was kind of like a mini-documentary about this man's journey. The most engaging parts to me were the reactions of his friends and family as he began the process. Some of them said, "I don't have to understand, but I love Chris and I'm here to support him."
In the final moments of the show, Chris now Christine was returning from overseas and his operations to introduce herself to family and friends as the woman he had become.
I have to admit, I cried. Because as soon as she walked in her mom hugged her and told her how precious she was. And this mom looked like the traditional no funny business type. But when I saw her mother's love overwhelm all other things, I couldn't help but be reminded of the power of love. Here her son had undergone all of these things and changed himself completely, and she welcomed him now her into her arms. I couldn't help but think. See. Love. It's about love. Not about gender or sexuality or who loves who.
Love.
The greatest of these is love.
Will you choose love?
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