Reflections from the Bus Stop, the Backyard, and the 8th Floor.

This is me. For once. 

There is something poetic about sitting on a bag on a bus stop. Last Tuesday I spent a lot of time doing that. I mastered three different bus routes and walked approximately three miles. The result was I traded in clothes at Plato's Closet and got in turn shoes (so I can stop borrowing my sister's shoes every time I need to dress up), an easter dress (with pockets!) a tank top and t-shirt (for camp). I went to Target, which was in the same shopping center, then went to a different shopping center and got groceries then walked home. Bus 9 took me to school that morning. I took bus 8 to the first shopping center and back to the depot where I got on bus 7 which took me to the next shopping center. From there I walked home.
I got to my second bus stop of the day more than ten minutes early and just sat and enjoyed the moment. The sun was on my left side and the wind was on my right. I watched the cars coming waves and a lot of them the speeding through the red lights. It was peaceful time. Listening to an awesome song.

This was from this past Wednesday. She wouldn't tell me what
we were making as we added cupfuls of dirt to the water
then we gathered sticks to drop in there then she starts with,
"Oh yes, these are looking beautiful." What were we making?
Chocolate colored pretzels. 

Moving on to the back yard. I babysit and awesome kid for the sake of discretion I will call her Amelia, she's seven. Last Wednesday I went to their house and we made soup out of water and stuff found in the yard. Amidst phrases like, "I think that flower was a good addition." and "These colors are really working." She was brainstorming how to better the soup.
Disclaimer: She loves the cooking channel. Yes she's seven.
The first issue we ran into was a more solid base. Amelia suggested, "We need chicken stock." I had to ask where she planned on getting some and she responded, "The kitchen." I didn't see her mom loving that so I suggested dirt. She bought it. In reality I was deterring from what I knew was coming. She is an incredibly creative thinker and there were two dogs walking around. You can all guess where I saw her search for chicken stock going. Then she decided we needed chicken. Once again I asked her how she thought we could represent that. She looked around and hit me with, "A bird?" Had to look really object there. We ended up with leaves. Then came the discussion of how to cook it. Of course it was going in the play house then she said we should bake it not cook it.
"Does your mom make soup in the oven?" she thought for a minute.
"Maybe not, but I know Rachel has."
I stopped to think about what her aunt's name was then had ask, "Who's Rachel?"
She looked taken aback, "You don't know Rachel Ray?!"
All I could do was laugh.

Finally the eighth floor.
This picture is my number two reason that Greensboro works for me. This is not the edge of the city. There is so much city below that tree line. I love the fact that there are so many trees and they are so big and old that the majority of the city is below them. This is what I looked at out of the window that was next to the desk that I wrote at on the 8th floor of Jackson Library. Lovely. Yes I did get the paper done. Thanks for asking.




Currently jamming to "How You Like Me Now" by The Heavy. Still working on getting that video, pardon it. : )

Victorious

“The waves are crashing down on me

But I know that this cannot be the end, be the end...

Right now I feel like copping out

Will You hold me up, if I just say

That I will stay

I will hold on to this hope that I have

You gave me a promise

I'll push through this moment, I'll never give up

You gave me a promise”

(You Gave Me a Promise - Fireflight)

Panic. 

It happens to everyone at some point in our lives. Some more than others, some significantly less.

I fall into the later category.

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of it’s own.’ 

(Matthew 6:34)

This sometimes helps me and other times not so much.

It helps me because 95% of things that trouble others just roll off my shoulder, because people freak out about things that have already happened or things that are inevitably happening. There’s not a lot you can do about either of those. It does not help me because when it happens to me it get's multiplied because the feeling of freaking out is so foreign, I freak out more.

For the past month I have been fighting with one huge panic attack.

I call it a panic “attack” with purpose. Yes, it’s a well acknowledged expression, but it is also what I believe that it is, an “attack”. There is nothing biblical or God-like about freaking out, in fact we explicitly told more than once to not freak out. Therefore, logic lends me to believe that if it the opposite of what God tells us, then it is literally an attack from the devil.

“I look out the window 

The birds are composing

Not a note is out of tune 

Or out of place

I walk to the meadow 

And stare at the flowers

Better dressed than any girl 

On her wedding day

So why do I worry?

Why do I freak out?

God knows what I need

You know what I need.” 

(Your Love is Strong - Jon Foreman)

Satan wants us to freak out. To abide in stress. Panic and stress distort or hide God.

“God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind.”

(2 Timothy 1:7)

 As I struggle with this demon of fear, I thank God that so far the only thing that has allowed peace is the reminder of His love, grace and provision. Because in reality, nothing else is strong enough to defeat to satan. In fact, it’s not something that He is strong enough to do, it’s something that he did 2000 years ago.

I have found the condolences of people, even my parents fruitless. The reason of my own head that screams that there is literally nothing I can do is muffled by Satan quietly whispering that I have failed. That I am a failure. Why do I give power to that whisper?

I once read a fictional book called Impossible. This book had absolutely nothing to do with God, but was rather based on the folk song “Scarborough Fair”. It was the story of a girl whose ancestry was just women after woman having a daughter at 18 then going insane, because a long time ago her great (x12) grandmother had refused to go with some sort of mystical creature (elf, gnome, wizard) and he had put a curse on her line. To break the curse she had to complete three impossible tasks before her baby was born. She did because she had supportive parents and a childhood friend turned boyfriend turned husband to help her. The final scene of the novel takes place in a small fishing cabin where she has her baby due to having to complete the final task. The wizard shows up anyway to take her (all of her ancestors were crazy because after they had their daughters they were forced to go with him). He makes her a deal that he will spare her daughter and husband if she comes willing and she almost agrees. Then her husband, I think his name was Zack, suddenly realizes that because the wizard is making deals the curse is already broken and he has no power over Lucy anymore. He is correct and the Wizard is forced to die, since it was the curse keeping him alive.

The whole book was entertaining to that point. At that point I was struck. Satan is defeated. We entertain him in our panic attacks when we give into them. We give him a power that is not there.

“There in the ground his body lay. 

Light of the world by darkness slain. 

Then bursting forth in glorious day, 

up from the grave He rose again. 

And as He stands in victory, 

sin’s curse has lost it’s grip on me. 

For I am His and He is mine, 

bought with precious blood of Christ.” 

(In Christ Alone - Stuart Townsend)

I have a friend who once said that she wanted to throw her fist up in the air at the triumphant victory proclaimed at the end of the song, “In Christ Alone.” The idea of victory is not often associated with God. We speak of His love, His grace, His justice, His faithfulness, but what about His victory? He is the ultimate victor. He didn’t defeat a big army, or corrupt ruler. He defeated death. We are no longer bound to it.

“When Satan tempts me to despair. 

And tells me of my guilt within.

Upward I look and see Him there, 

who made an end to all my sin.

Because a sinless savior died,

my sinful soul is counted free.

For God the just was satisfied,

to look on Him and pardon me.”


(Before the Throne -Charles Bancroft)

How do we comprehend that? We are not only pardoned, we are free. Free. We are not bound to despair. We are not bound to failure. We are not bound to panic. We are not bound to fear. We are not bound to sin. We are free.

“He has cheated

Hell and seated

Us above the fall

In desperate places

He paid our wages

One time once and for all.”

(Death in His Grave - John Mark McMillan)

Tomorrow we celebrate Easter. God could not have better timing. Tomorrow is the celebration of my freedom. Tomorrow is the day I throw my fist in the air and proclaim that God’s victory has sealed my freedom. Yesterday, today and for all eternity.

“Let no one caught in sin remain

Inside the lie of inward shame

But fix our eyes upon the cross

And run to Him who showed great love

And bled for us

Freely You've bled for us

Christ is risen from the dead

Trampling over death by death

Come awake, come awake

Come and rise up from the grave

Christ is risen from the dead

We are one with Him again

Come awake, come awake

Come and rise up from the grave

Beneath the weight of all our sin

You bowed to none but heaven's will

No scheme of hell, no scoffer's crown

No burden great can hold You down

In strength You reign

Forever let Your church proclaim

O death, where is your sting?

O hell, where is your victory?

O church, come stand in the light

The glory of God has defeated the night

O death, where is your sting?

O hell, where is your victory?

O church, come stand in the light

Our God is not dead

He's alive! He's alive!”

(Christ is Risen - Matt Maher)

A Thought

I read a quote tonight in the novel, Coming Attractions by Robin Jones Gunn. It sounds like a bad romance novel, but its not. She is one of my favorite Christian Fiction writers. Infinitely better than others in the similar genre who's initials are KK (not to offend, its just facts). It has got me thinking. I have yet to decide the fullness or emptiness of my agreement with the argument made, but I believe I like the general idea. I thought I would share it for you all to consider.

(Setting: A conversation between Katie, the main character, and Eli while driving in a car on measuring success in a relationship. I have extracted most of Katie's responses since she is the narrator and is rather subjective. What Eli is saying is the interesting part. ) 

Eli settled deeper into the passenger seat. "I'm not big on measuring things by success...I don't think many of us know how to accurately measure success," Eli said. "That's because God's ways aren't our ways, and His thoughts aren't our thoughts. So much of the kingdom of God is measured on a different scale than the one the world uses to measure value...'"

 "Love starts in the heart," Eli said. "Not just in the head. All love engages emotions...So if I love God, and I mean really love God with abandon, then I must come to love myself, my life. I need to love my story at the heart level. That's what I believe life is for all of us. A story being written by God. He is the Author and Finisher of our faith. When I start to love my story, with all its messed up twists and turns, then I can love other people who are living out their own stories with all their messed up twists and turns." 

Katie jumped in. "I've been learning to make peace with my story this past year too. Or, I guess I should say, the God is writing in my life. I have my share of messed up twists and turns."

"We all do. If we didn't, why would we need a Savior? Why would we need God's grace? And in my story, why would I need the power of forgiveness if I could simply work out my anger on my own?...Some things will never be brought to justice. At least not on a human level. That's why I said I don't hold out a case against him (man who wronged his family) anymore. If there's going to be justice, it will be measured out by God, not by me...I don't know that guy's story...if I'm going around saying I love God, then I have to trust him and believe that everything in my life first passed through his fingers. Nothing happens outside of his control. He alone will bring all things to justice one day. All I'm supposed to do is love my own story so that I can love that guy's story too."

Now there are a couple of reasons why this particular passage struck me.

One is the metaphor of my life as a story. I am a story person. I write them. I read them. I watch them. I critique them. I imagine them. Stories are a centerpiece of my life. Some of biggest revelations about the Bible have been when I sit down and think of it as one huge story.  My life as a story being written and the reference to God being "the Author and Finisher of our faith" is not a foreign concept to me, it has been in my head for a few years, but hearing it from other sources is always encouraging.

There is a movie called, The Brothers Bloom(2008).

Not a great cinematic work, in fact, I barely remember it, but what I do remember is that throughout the movie they use the terminology of story writing in reference to the cons that one brother writes. By the end of the movie this metaphor is used as a reference to their whole lives. One of, if not the last line of the film, Rachel Wiez's character tells Adrian Brody's that they are going to live like they're a part of the greatest story ever told. (Paraphrase). I remember that.

That may have been one of the first times I started to see my life as a story. It is an interesting thought.

However, the second part of Eli's (from the book excerpt) analysis is the part I think we, or at least me, being the self-centered beings we are, often forget.

Everyone around us is also in the middle of a story as well. Their story.

I think we walk around wanting everyone around us to be in the comfortable resolution part of their stories, because that makes it easy on us when we're in the middle of the action. But it doesn't work that way.

What if we encounter people in their rough spots? Or their complicated subplots? Think about a normal day in your life. Since you are the main character of your story you normally have a pretty good handle of what is going on with you. You know things like you went to the gym before work, and that at work your department is being downsized, and that when you're at the store you aren't putting something back because you don't want, you're putting it back because you only have $47 in your account, and that when you went home your kids had surprised you by making dinner. But think about the person on the treadmill next to you at the gym. They only knew that you were running on a treadmill at 6:30 in the morning. If they were nosy maybe they looked at how fast you were going. They didn't know that you're running to relive stress of the possibility of losing your job. In the same way you didn't know that they had recently gotten married and their shockingly sunny and kind of annoying attitude is as a result.

Two vastly different stories were being told on the two different treadmills, but at that intersection all they knew was that the other person wanted to workout badly enough to go at 6:30 in the morning.

Remembering that really puts a different perspective on how you treat people.

The second thing that jumped out at me comes from the section on Grace and Forgiveness and leaving the justice to God.

Currently I am in the process of re-watching the show "Burn Notice"(2007). Yes re-watching, because my first time through, I watched somewhat scattered-ly and was a little lost on the overarching story (case in point on the importance of stories to me).

As a result of this when I read the line in the book that says, "...some things will never be brought to justice. At least not on a human level.",  I thought of Burn Notice because the premise of nearly every show consists of Michael, Sam and Fiona (and in season 4 Jesse) trying to get justice for the wronged citizens of Miami. The ones that "the system" can no longer help.

Now one could argue that they are simply taking the gifts they've been given ( like the ability to adopt personas, smooth talk, create impromptu shape charges, and wield heavy artillery) and using them to help. This is true. But it was the idea behind the show that got me. This is a show about humans helping humans get justice. This show is an example of humans taking something that is God and giving it to human ability.

My mom once said that superheros comics and movies were so insanely popular because people want something to worship. People see the frailty of themselves so they create things that eliminate that weakness and then, in many cases, worship it. I see this as the same idea. Humans want justice, and fairness, but they don't want God.

Enter gun toting crusaders like Michael Weston, or the A-Team, or even all the way back to Robin Hood. They all come from the same genre and the same desire for God, without God.

I will have to do another post sometime, (as this post is three times as long as I expected) to elaborate on the idea of taking an attribute of God and worshiping it. I have done a lot of thinking about it and have piles of illustrations from the media I have watched/read/listened to over the years.

But for now, I will continue to think about my encounters with people as intersections. Brief scenes together in our own beautifully written, though sometimes insanely hard, stories.

Curveball

Close your eyes and imagine your commute. 

Maybe you are coming home from work, coming home from picking up your kids, running to the grocery store, whichever. You are in your car driving along one of the busiest streets in your area. Then you see someone walking in the median. What does this person look like? Till about a week ago you would have gotten two different options from me, either a sketchy looking crazy looking person or a runner, plugged into their iPod. That was really all I'd seen until about a week ago, well that's really all I thought of, until five days ago. 


Five days ago, I became a third category. 


Five days ago, I was in a small car accident (my fault, no injuries, too expensive to repair) that has left me car-less. You don't need the details, because they are irrelevant to this post, but when one finds oneself without a car you are left three options: take the bus, bum a ride, or walk. I have divided up my travels equally. As a result todays commuters on West Market St got to see a different kind of street walker. A college student in jeans, t-shirt, and baseball hat with a bulging shoulder bag on one side and a gallon of apple juice in the other. 


As a child I did a unit study (homeschool geek word for spending the better part of a month on learning the ins and outs of one subject) on Germany. Of the many books I looked at I remember reading in one how people in Germany do not often use supermarkets. Instead they walk to the markets daily and buy only what they need for the day because they are carrying it. I was so inspired by this. How relaxing and energizing. Another attraction for me was getting to grocery shop every day. I love grocery shopping. I don't know why. My mother and I both suspected that when I would have to start spending my money not hers it would loose the attraction. It hasn't. But I digress. Since I read that bit about Germany it has been my goal to live in a place where I can walk to the grocery store. I was in fact a tad envious when my brother and sister in law moved into town, just a few blocks from the grocery store of my hometown. Then I moved to Greensboro, and an apartment a mere mile or so from the nearest Harris Teeter. I spent the first eight months of my residence imagining that one day I would walk. Enter the problem. Cars. 


We take them for granted, yes. I know this for certain as I feel like a middle schooler again, getting picked up and dropped off by my roommate and kind friend, Katie. However, I also let my car cripple me. I am under a 30 minute walk from the grocery store. That is more than doable. But for 8 months I would chicken out at the last minute and take my car. Then I did not have a car, and I finally had no excuse not to try. I've been twice in the last 5 days.


These experiences have helped me in my journey to know Greensboro as a city and here are the pros and cons of what I've learned. 


Pro: My walk to the grocery store takes me through the most amazing old neighborhood. I now aspire to one day live in one similar. Old neighborhoods are the best. They have huge, storytelling trees, and lovely natural looking landscaping. Not to knock new developments, but God help me if I ever reside in one. They are somewhat heinous. 


Con: For all the "green" initiative my city has, it litters like nobody's business. Truly frightful in some areas. 


Pro: I can walk to everywhere essentially. 


Con: This is my latest pet peeve of large cities. It takes so long to get places after you get there. Example: It takes me about 15 to 20 minutes to walk from my apartment complex to the Friendly Center, but another 5 to ten minutes to get where I need to be in the Friendly Center and five minutes to get from the start of my complex to my building. Or it takes about 5 minutes to ride the bus from my street (3 minute walk from my house) to campus, but an extra ten minutes to get to my building. Where I'm from when you go somewhere, you get there when you arrive. You don't go to the Ingles and then have to walk (or drive) another ten minutes to get the store. 


Pro: Exercise! Not only did I walk for a good 3 miles today the last half was with 4 quarts of strawberries, on bag of lettuce, one cucumber, one bottle salad dressing, on loaf of bread, and one gallon of apple juice. Extra calories burned!
(Side note: Harris Teeter is super expensive, until there is a sale. Today I spent $18.22 with savings $14.74 on in house sales. This year to date my in house savings have been $68.67. Strawberries 4 for $5 and apple juice 2 for $3)


Con: I'm out of cons, but another Pro is I get to see a closer look at the people, houses, and nature that make up the world around me. Beautiful. 


Small digression. I have through these experiences been convicted of two small ways I judge people. One: people who get in car accidents, or more specifically people who rear-end others. Surely they must be incompetent, and maybe they are, but I have now joined the ranks. And second, anyone who is walking along streets, not exercising or headed to class, must be trouble. I became aware of this painfully as I walked along the streets and through the Friendly Center and imagined what I would think if I saw me from my car. Two things to think about. 


In the end, I am reminded of a quote from one of my favorite quirky movies: Extreme Days(2001), at the end of this movie the narrator, Will, says, "When God throws a curveball, don't duck, you just might miss something." That always stuck with me and its times like this that remind me why. Losing your freedom of transportation is a curveball for sure and I am doing my best to not duck or run the other direction, but rather adjust my position to hit it head on and keep on playing the game. 

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." 

-James 1:2-4

Take it All Away

You have to listen to the song. Before, after or during your reading of the post. If you can't listen then mute it and read the lyrics.

dear Effect,

you are so disproportionate 

you snuck up behind me,

you stabbed my back.

you haunt my quiet.

you overthrow peace.

lightly I speak, heavy my heart.

 I scream in silence 

I don’t want the sympathy

I don’t need them to understand

I just want this demon out of me

I am in a cage, scratching to get out.

poison escapes my eyes

oxygen is trapped in my lungs

my eyes are dry, my soul 

screams out

you are begging me to roll over

enticing me to let lie

but I see through your fake eyes

I am frantically mustering

searching the deep

crying out with 

gut wrenching

take it all away

you will entreat

I will refuse

you have died

sincerely,

____________

This is significantly darker than the last several post. But is a real emotion with a song that Jesus has put in my heart for weeks in advance, for this purpose. This is my reminder of a refusal to submit to darkness, because all I need to do is cry out.

 I debated whether or not to post this, but ultimately decided that public posting would help keep me accountable to the manifesto in the last three lines of the poem, and maybe Jesus can use it to help others in a struggle.