A Note on the Nature of my Father

Today (as I write this, not as I post it) is the day that my father turns 60. 

Sixty years on the earth. 

Sixty years of learning and growing and imparting.

One of the greatest things that my father does for me (and there are lots of things that he has done ) is love me as an individual. Not only that, he has taken such joy in the individuals that we (myself and my siblings) are, it only encourages us to do the same for others. My father time and again communicates to me, not just an unconditional love, but a joyful love. Joyous, not of things I do, but of who I am. 

So I am going to try and return the favor and talk about who I have seen my father to be.

He is centered on God.

I put this first, because whether I say it or not, it effects everything that will follow. Dad has spent his life seeking God. He has spent my life discipling me. Walking with me when I was young. Pushing me outward as I got older. Standing firm to answer questions. The way that he did it, for me, was not based on my needing to meet his standard, but rather that he personally had a relationship with God, and he wanted me to share in the same. My whole life I have only seen his love for God, his desire to serve, and desire to submit to God grow, and become more and more apparent. He has lived out what has got to be one of his favorite verses (because he says it all the time) "I have no greater joy than to see my children walking in the truth."

He is honest.

He tells me about his life. His mistakes. His triumphs. His relationship with God. He tells me when he can’t tell me things. And I trust him. I have never felt lied to. Never felt like there was a double standard. Never felt like I was getting half-truths. Because my dad has always been himself.

He is an individual.

The older he gets, the more he falls into himself. He is a goofy, serious, loving, mature, kid-like, humorous, a scholar, and more. Because my dad was himself and had fun with it, and equally had fun with my mom, as herself, and I saw him with each of my siblings doing the same, it only supported my desire to just be me. Having a father who is excited for you to be unique, to be who you are, is of immeasurable value.

He loves my mom.

My dad has always made it clear, he loves my mom, that he is always in her corner. From making sure to give her a big hug and kiss when he comes home, to making sure we helped her, to showing understanding when my mom gets upset, or overwhelmed, and supporting and defending her, rather than belittling something that wouldn’t even phase him. This set up so many good examples and so many high standards. I’m not sure I’ll ever find them all.

He is patient. 

Whether with a long to-do list, high emotions (he does have five daughters), upsetting situations, accidents, or just plain old flops (car wrecks etc). I have never been afraid of my dad. I have never wanted to avoid calling him, because he has always proven trustworthy of keeping my emotions, and feelings.

He is impatient.

I know, it seems contradictory, but my father can also be impatient. He gets impatient of people who do things to a lesser quality than he believes they should be able. He is impatient of repetition. If you make the same mistake over and over, he is impatient. He is mostly impatient with people outside of his family.

He is focused on family.

My dad is a people person, but his closest relationships (apart from God) are without doubt with his wife and children. He puts us on priority above everything else, including himself.  He has worked full time all my life and I never felt he was absent. Every event I could have wanted him there, he was. He is in every memory of holidays and even normal family dinners, Saturday work days, everything. 

He is not perfect.

My dad makes mistakes. I know because when he makes them, he will do what he can to make amends. Whether that is rushing to judgement, speaking too much ( I can relate), sharp words, bad choices. If it is a gray area, my father will try and correct it. 

He is fun.

My dad is hilarious. He loves an audience and he is good at working one. He sings well, and tells stories. He is just fun to be around. I love hanging out with my dad.

He is wise.

My dad has taken his years, and kept learning. He may debate this point, but I think it has made him wise. He’ll tell you of all his shenanigans when he was younger, and mistakes he’s made. But those have helped shape him. That and his continual submission to God. 

He has integrity.

I never doubted that my father would, to the best of his knowledge, do the right thing. He works hard, he does not cut corners, he does not give less than his best. Because of him, I didn’t slack in college. Because he set the example and standard, to do everything to the best of your ability. Not the best of everyone out there, but the best of what you can do.

He is someone to be respected.

This is huge. Some people hear me and my siblings talk to our dad and think that he’s letting us get away with disrespect. We joke and make fun of him (and he returns), we are always very open and honest, but this is not sprung from disrespect, this is from respect. Because of these things that I have listed above and so many more, my dad has spent the 22 years of my life earning and earning more and more respect. Because I respect him so much, because he so obviously loves me, and because he has been himself, and let us be ourselves, we have the freedom to communicate, however. There are no rules of what we can and cannot say to dad. 

He is my dad.

He’s mine. God gave me Bo Gray, as my father. He gave him to me for reasons I may never know in full, but a huge one is he gave me a father, as an earthly picture of His love for me. And my father, imperfect and human as he is, has, in my eyes, blown it out of the park.

He is a blessing and encouragement to me, always; he's such an amazing image of God’s love for me. An image of the way God loves me as an individual. The way God wants the best for me. The way that God feels pain when I do. The way that God takes joy in my life. 

Granted, my dad doesn’t have a plan for my life, like God, and he can not love me to level that Christ does, but he is always pointing me towards God, my true father.

And as an ambassador father of the most high Father, to us, his family, and primary calling, I’d say he is a smashing success.

Love you Daddy.

Driving for All Eternity

There's something weird about driving long distances. Spending hours in the car, in the same seat. Something strange starts to happen to you.

It's subtle at first. You work into it starting with that early morning alarm, the quick mental pep talk that tells you that the exciting things you have going today ate worth getting up hours before the sun.

Then you make it to the next town over and marvel at how that jaunt seemed like the blink of an eye. Then, if you ate fortunate enough not to be driving you have the luxury of getting to re enter a sleep like state, although arguably, you never left one, even as you packed up. By the time you make that first stop for gas and coffee, you are all hyped at how fast the trip is going.

This next leg is critical to the shift from normal to strange. In this next part of the trip you and your car mates fall into the "rhythm"  of the trip. By natural course you discover who sits closest to the best snacks, and who is most willing to divvy them out. You develop a balance for those who sleep, want to listen to music, want to listen to books on tape.

And then you look at the clock and realize you've been in this pattern for twelve hours. You try to think back to the morning and realize any life outside of this van has become hazy. You sit and say to yourself, don't be dramatic, you lived a normal life yesterday, you....well what did you do? All you can see is the passing of landscape. All you hear are the ramblings of the deep throated radio story teller. Surely you ran those errands last week....because there's no way you had any sort of normalcy as short a time as 24 hours ago.

You sit and try to imagine eating something other than the snack food so carefully packed and more messily strewn between the front bucket seats. Is there every anything other than pretzels to satisfy cravings? And when was the last time you used a plate? Silverware?

The stale air of the vehicle, that no matter what you tell the air conditioning to do, always carries with it a faint trail of stagnancy. That ever so slight headache, the thirst that is always a little less than quenched, because who knows when you'll stop next. The feeling that any moment an extended look down ward, or a bump in the road and that morning car sickness will return with a vengeance. All these things persist with such dependence that they become your strongest enemy in perpetuating the lie that this back seat is the only life you've really known and everything else is merely an Inception-esque dream.

You try to remind yourself of where you are going. Of the people or places that inspired you to undergo such a trek in the first place, but at this point the tired pulse that makes your eye balls feel like they are twice the size they should be only lets you see the part of the trip when you have to say goodbye and do this trip all over again. But that's okay because at this point if someone told you that you had driven this far for one meal, it would seem worth it because it would be something different than this.
This speckled gray mini van upholstery.

These ever present brake lights that seem to be on an extreme counter offensive mission to delay these hours even more.

The final stage is the one that saves you from swearing off these trips ever again. Its the moment, when at long last, you pull into the parking lot. You climb over the previously organized piles that have now become Everest like mountains and your feet hit terra firma. Suddenly blood makes it to your feet for what feels like the first time. You realize that your back had retained the ability to fully extend, and that the air does move. Then you look towards the faces approaching. The ones you've driven eternity to visit.

You sit together and eat real food on real dishes. You laugh. You look at your travel mates and suddenly only remember the laughter. You remember fondly all the stops, the brake lights, the new routes, because it was "all part of the experience". You marvel with each other that the drive "really wasn't all that bad". You laugh when you calculate that you've been in the car for fifteen hours, as if you can't imagine a better way to spend a day. Your memory returns, and the gift of being able to recall yesterday provides stories that take far later into the night than any one planned because you're, "really not that tired".

You spend your trip shoving away the thought that the warm fuzzy feeling about your road trip is a hoax and through yourself into the people around you. Because that is what is really true. The thoughts that fight each other as you drive....that make you doubt your ability to make good choices...those are lies, because the truth you know deep down is that it would be worth it. To drive 30 hours for one day with these people. To be together. To celebrate the lives we've been given.

Thank you so much for reading this blog, posted from my phone, written on the car in the 15th hour. And special congratulations to my sister Lydia, who's graduation from her Master's program we are gathering to celebrate. If you wanna know more about our road trip, find us on twitter @graymeetsworld.

(please ignore any spelling our formatting errors, like I said, this was sent from my phone).

Dear Callie. (Otherwise known as Family Part 2)

Dear Callie,

This year was your first Christmas. We had a lot of people. A lot.

Grandma (or whatever you decide to call her) made you a stocking.







See this picture? This is your family. Your daddy's family. Grandma and Grandpa. Aunt Liz, Uncle Glenn, Aunt Lyd, Aunt Charissa, Aunt Cilla (that's me!) and Aunt Sarah. Do you see yourself over there in the corner? You did a great job learning to cope with us. It was a bit of a culture shock for you, to switch from your quiet life with just you and Momma and Daddy to being around us all.

Luckily, your entire family loves you and did our best to work with you and try not to overwhelm you.

We let you sleep a lot, and were always available to hold you.

It was so fun to watch you sit and stare. I could see your eyes, taking us all in. You looked around the room, deeply. You were searching and putting pieces together. It was so incredible to watch your anxiety melt away the more time you spent with us. You learned the surroundings, you learned our faces. You had little worry lines in your forehead that relaxed as you learned how to appreciate an entire room full of people focused on you.

We did our best to make you feel comfortable by making sure each of us let you have time to get know us personally. It was such a strain on our part to spend time holding your precious little self.

You got to meet your Great - Grandmother too.

Usually if you got real overwhelmed you'd need to back off and spend some time with Momma or Daddy.

When we weren't doing our best to help you adjust, we were teaching you by example how to have a Gray family Christmas.

Eating a lot is a must. Always a variety. Our best times were when we just spread it out on the tables. Cookies, cheese, guacamole, crackers, and that disgusting summer sausage your Aunt Lyd likes so much.

Also important is talking along with eating. We talk about everything. Classes (because five out of 8 of us are in some sort of school), telling stories about people, music recommendation, movies, struggles, joys, plans...we share. We always have. Your Momma says that it's something that overwhelmed her a lot when she came into the family. She says that none of us fully realize how close we are. I think I agree, and we just keep getting closer, because we just like being around each other.

Sometimes we did hijinks. Like trying to stuff you in a stocking.

You weren't a big fan of that.

We played games too. Like tabletop shuffleboard.

You should be proud of your Daddy. He pretty much dominated. Sometimes we unseated him. But not very often.

We also went for walks. You feel asleep.

You slept really well, and we're pretty sure you grew about an inch in one day.

Okay I exaggerate. (Something else your family is prone to do). But you did grow a lot.

Grandma, likes to read books to you and work on your development. She was very impressed with you.

We basically all believe you are a genius baby.

You've yet to prove us wrong.




Most of all, no matter what happened, we laughed. A lot.

Sometimes your aunts decide to call the ham, "Roast Beast" and make a show out of carrying it to the table as a team.

This was one of my favorite moments. When we danced together. Remember that I will always dance with you. Especially when you are feeling upset, like you were that morning. I was proud of you. We put on Lena Horne's "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" and went to town, dancing your tears away.

You really liked your Uncle Glenn. He's the only uncle you have right now, on our side. And it's so much fun to watch him with you. I have this video of him planning all the fun times you are going to have together. He says that now all you do is hang out and look at the ceiling fan, but later you'll go out and get ice cream, and "something girls like" maybe, go to the park, but for now, it's mostly all about taking naps.

We also have traditions, like watching Elf. Your Aunt Charissa loves that one. Look how happy she is. We all say that watching her watch this movie is the best part. A dozen times in and she still laughs so hard. 

This is Grandpa Bo. He's a goofball. He loved acting out for you. This is his victory dance. He did this one for us. 

Here you are sitting in Gramp's lap while he makes faces and noises. I momentarily distracted you with a camera. 

Sometimes you made the same faces.

This is the most important part. 

These two people. 

They are your parents. 

They love you so much. 

Callie Ann, I've known your daddy my whole life. I have never ever seen him so enraptured with anything. He loves you. He is captured by you. He is proud of you. He is so protective of you. You completely amaze him. 

I've known your Momma for a few years too. She has taken her penchant for learning, for teaching, and channeled it completely into you. She buys books, and reads them. She thinks about helping you adjust to noise, to things on your head. She reads about how you are developing. She researches, she talks to Grandma, but my favorite thing that your Momma does is fight for you. She will tell people to back off. She fights to know you, and then she fights to make sure you get the best that she knows. 

Above all, both of your parents fight for you Spiritually. They pray. They know, they see you as an amazing gift, and you are. To your parents, to your family, to whoever God plans for you to encounter. 

Plus, look at you. Could you be any cuter?!

Finally, because I told your Aunt Charissa I would, here is a sample of some of the things that make us laugh. Along with dancing, your Aunt Cilla likes writing. So I take notes of things people say sometimes. Here is some of the random, quirky, sarcastic and dry things your family says. Believe me, it's better in person.

(Charissa) “I love boundaries. I’m such a three year old. Boundaries are Great!” 

(Me) “You filmed? I’m proud of you!” 

(Charissa) “Thanks...there may have been 30 seconds when I forgot to open the cover” 

(Me) “Didn’t you notice it was black?” 

(Charissa)”I thought it was the sun”

(Charissa) “Sarah! What’s your guessies for your prezzies?” 

(Lydia) “Our freezer is full of oats. We’ll use them for sandbags in case of a flood.”

(Sarah)“I thought horses sleep standing up.” 

(Lydia) “They do unless it’s cold, then I think they sleep lying down because they wish they were dead.”

(Glenn - talking about their future daughter) “Basically we want her (Lydia’s) internal organs and my physique.” 

“You really like that fritto cheese dip that comes in the can?” - Me

“Yep, little can of heaven.” - Glenn

(Sarah) “Wasn’t Benjamin a disciple?”

(Pam) “No, he was joseph’s brother.” 

(Sarah) “Eh - same thing.” 

(Lydia) “I was teaching her vowel sounds durning her wiggle time. I’m all in to your child’s development.” 

(Glenn) “I don’t match tones (vocal tones)....others match their tones to me.”

(Lydia, after seeing Dad's victory dance) “That’s how dad’s gonna go. A heart attack at 92 doing that.” 

(Bo) “Alright...New Years. Callie will be gone and Glenn will be the center of attention.”

(Lydia to Glenn) “I am sorry your team lost. I want you to achieve, as I did.” 

(Charissa) “Because when nothing else cuts...you go for the blue.” - Charissa

(Me) “What...?”

(Charissa) “I’m doing a commercial for my jacket.” 

(Charissa)“Selfish!” 

(Sarah) “Who?”

(Charissa) “The rest of Andrews. They ate all the peppermint ice cream.” 

(Liz reading the subtitles that keep saying, “Soldiers speaking indistinctly”) “These soldiers need to learn to speak more distinctly.”

(Charissa)“If Mom told you she was pregnant right now, what would be your response?” 

(Bo) “I’d change my name to Abraham.”

(Mom) “Bo, you look so cute.”

(Dad) “What?”

(Me - Louder) “You look cute Dad.” 

(Dad) “Uh -that’s my goal.” 

(Lydia) “You should have visited them.” 

(Mom) “We had no money.”

(Lydia) “Credit cards. Sell a kidney.” 

(Lydia) “I did crush some boy’s hearts. But not Glenn! I lift Glenn’s up so it can fly.”

Callie, you are precious, and I'm already so proud of you. I am so excited to watch you grow and see how you participate and add to our family. 

Sometimes your aunts are terrible at filming. So the only record I have
of myself at events is the classic mirror shot. Someday they will learn to
open the lens cover.

Hold Your Out Your Hand

My sister Charissa

Over the holidays I heard my sister Charissa say more than once, “I’m holding it loosely.” 

She used this to refer to her clothes, her car, any one of her belongings. 

I never got the chance to really ask her about this, but from the manner in which she spoke I gathered it was something that God was teaching her. 

That phrase has stuck with me. It comes into my head when I look through my room at the clothes, books, and belongings that I have amassed. It comes into my head when I look my bank account. I think of it when I look at my time and try to put a value on it. It comes to mind when I see the different plans for my future start to roll through my head. 

Tonight, it came into my head again as I measured my life against the standard that the world expects of me. As I held those two lives up to the light and saw the checklist of things I need to do to be considered a responsible adult (i.e have a steady bank account, car, plan etc) I wondered if I should cut out things like weekend road-trips and buying art supplies to more quickly achieve this goal. Then the image of an open palm came into my head.

I have no guarantee of anything. Not one millisecond into my future is guaranteed, so why live in any time other than right now?

I don’t think planning is wrong. There are plenty of things in life that require planning, but if I live my life in the present, living to the fullest where God put me and trusting His plan, then I have to trust it fully. Somehow we, or at least I, get the idea that we need to worry about the details. Like God will tell us to move somewhere, but not give us time to make the proper preparations. Now, granted, maybe God’s preparations look different than our own, but they are still accounted for. 

Tonight I tentatively stated to myself that I need to hold everything loosely. Then, as I normally do, I began to argue with myself. What about God? Don’t I need to hold everything loosely, but God? Don’t I need to hold on to God with all my might?

What if God saw fit to move me like this?
In real life - this would be drastic, but so exciting!

No. And the reason is in the question. “my might”.

I can not, nor will anyone ever be able to hold God. God is so far above. He is infinite, transcendent, self-sufficient, self-existent. He never changes. I willnot, I do not,  I can not hold God.

God holds me. He pursues me. He fills me. When I hold my life in an open hand, and relax, God can more easily move me. When I build my life not on the expectation of the fulfillment of my plans, but on the expectation of the fulfillment of God’s promises, I can not be disappointed. When I find joy, not in expectations put on the people around me, but in the expectation of God’s character, I can never be hurt. 

Now, I am human. I will never be able to purely rest on God. My flesh will bring in challenges. I will feel the emotion of disappointment, and hurt. I will be sad. I will be frustrated, I will be angry, but if I practice living life with an open palm, how quickly will the power of God whisk those emotions away?

So I will live open. I leave room for God to move. I will strive to quiet the checklist of the world and listen for the prodding and movement of the Spirit. Because that is where I find joy, and peace. That is what I crave. That is where I belong. That is where I find home.

|valənˌtīn|

My first introduction to the idea of father. My first introduction to
God too, probably. My first Valentine - for sure.

No matter what you may think about Valentines day, it seems that everyone thinks something.

People who will post status every other day of the year dripping with single, self-pity, will today post pep talks about there being nothing wrong with the position of singleness.

There are plenty of reminders on my wall about God and His being the ultimate answer to our heart's need.

There are people who make no comment, because they don't care much for the idea.

In my life, Valentines day had it's most significance when I was little and my parents would usually spring for some sort of token. Candy hearts, chocolate, random stuffed animals. I have never much associated anything particularly romantic with February 14th, and have by consequence, never held any malice towards the day with the absence of such expression.

I suppose I fall into the apathetic category when it comes to this 'holiday', but God is not a God of apathy and God has been slowly over taking my everything, therefore I am not actually apathetic this year.

This is not a post about how we should perceive the day. This is not a post about my cut and dry opinion. This is not a sermon. This is simply a testimony, a story, of how I have been approaching the day this year. I've no doubt that my opinion and approach will evolve and change with the years ahead, as it has with years past. God, it seems, has been working on my heart for a few weeks leading up to this, and the coming of this day of hearts, has proven a catalyst for my trying to communicate what it is I am in the process of learning.

God has of late been re-evaluating my heart in relation to the fantastic men he has placed in my life. I have been awoken to realize that the same M.O. that worked when I was 15, doesn't work when I'm in my twenties. Everybody is in a different place in life, and if I care about the lives of these men, then I will care just as much about my actions, words and behavior towards them.

My only brother. You wouldn't believe how awesome he is.

I am not saying that I have not been intentionally uncaring, I am saying I have been thoughtless - and God has begun to draw a line for me, tell me to stop, and change.

 In my pursuit of God, above all else, some things have changed. One, is how I see the people around me, specifically for this post, the male species.

God has a thing about family. He is very serious about it. From marriage, and imagery of Christ and the Church, to parenthood and beyond. Specifically, God has associated himself closely with one role, that of the father. (John 17 - one of the many places, Jesus Himself, calls God father, more than once.) Now is not the time to get into the doctrine of the Trinity, but the basics are, God is three persons in one: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. God the Father. (Romans 8:15)

I grew up with a wonderful, blessing of a father, but we all know someone who wants nothing to do with God because their father was not great, and the idea of another "father figure" in their life sounds terrible. I have only ever connected the dots of father hood and God in my personal past tense (I was raised with a great father), or maybe even briefly in my future tense (marrying someone who would be a good father), I have not tied it into the present.

There are certain theories that hold that a someone's personality is set by the time they are five years old and it seems logical that personality affects how we approach everything. Helping to decide our challenges, what comes easily, what we have to fight. If I even halfway believe this, then the two and three year old little boys that I watch every Tuesday, are right now being shaped in a huge way. Could things that happen right now, affect their fathering far down the road?

More so, the teenagers in my church, a lot of of them I have known since they were in elementary school and younger, are before my eyes, growing up. These "little boys" are getting drivers licenses,  speaking their minds, pursuing their own interests, and becoming leaders and servants among their peers. Is it possible that the way that they are encouraged, challenged, and treated at this point will affect how they father their own children down the road?

My only brother-in-law. This guy.
Real excited he gets to be a part of our family from here on out.

Further still, my peers. Male staff at camp, friends from school, friends in the church. Many of these men are (not unlike the women in the same age range) in years of decision. Whether that decision is what degree to work towards in college, what to do after college, how to become independent of their parents, and most importantly, how they are going to pursue God when they are left alone. Do decisions that they make in these areas affect what sort of fathers they will be?

This may all seem very odd, to be thinking about the fathering potential of toddlers, but I have recently been thinking a lot about God and His nature. The God of the universe lets Himself be called, Abba, Father, Daddy. And this God also has the grace to let roughly half the human population operate under the same word, and many of those humans are doing a bang-up job.

Being able to see that men are under attack in our world does not take a biblically minded person. It does not even take a genius. The brothers in my life (familial and biblical) are under a strong attack, I believe because they have such strong potential to live such a vivid expression of God's Glory. They have the opportunity to personify an aspect of God's character. Fatherhood.

Sidebar: before anyone gets offended. I am not whatever the female version of chauvenist is. I do not think that men are better than women. I do not think them more important. I do think that the mistakes in the past that led to such opinion are being far too radically overthrown in the present, and we have begun not to just promote women's rights, but degrade those of men. I am specifically not addressing the role of women because this is a blog post, not a 900 page thesis. 

How do these revelations affect my mindset towards "the other half" right now?

First reaction - I am floored by God's grace in allowing a part of His nature to be continually associated with humans who are so quick to fail, and in conjuncture with this, fearful on behalf of these men in my life I have had the opportunity to know and be blessed by. I believe that Satan is alive and active in the world around us, and he can not want these boys to succeed.

Second reaction - Prayer. These men will struggle and fail on some level. They are human, but if they have the strength to fight, to submit to the Holy Spirit and let God overwhelm their weakness, then His Glory is achieved, and shown to the world.

Third reaction - To double check my movements. How I talk to, act around, and express love towards "my boys" matters. From the one-year-old learning how to walk on his feet, to the 20-something learning how to walk as an adult, and man of God. I'm not sure what that looks like exactly and I'm pretty sure it is at least slightly different in each situation, but I know that whatever it looks like, it is permeated with prayer. Prayer and action.

My brother is now four months into the journey of fatherhood.
You can bet this has had a huge affect on this thought process.

Prayer because it is the strongest weapon I have, and action, because I cannot pray for the protection of institution of "fatherhood" with my heart, but fight against it in my action. The respect, grace, and words that I offer, even in passing to my fellow man, has the potential for good or harm. I need to be aware.

(Now, let me quickly tie this into Valentines Day, for the sake of relevance.)

As God has been teaching my heart, He has transformed it.

 I went to a small group last night and the idea of "single-ness" was briefly brought up. The girl shared how easy the trap was to just say, "I'm single because God is preparing just the right guy for me." and then in your heart be like, "Okay, God - I'm waiting, any time now." I think the idea of being content with where you are is great, but I think the idea that it is because God is preparing the perfect guy for you is terrible! It puts a ridiculous expectation on men. We are human. We fail. We all fail. God is not keeping you and that mystery person in the slow cooker until  you are both, "perfect". I'm not sure what God has for your life, but I know it is not a simple formula, and the only way to know is to seek Him with abandon, not under the agenda of figuring out secrets like who the "mystery person" is.

I can not say for sure if I ever particularly operated under this theory, because I never particularly put much thought into it. But what God has done is make me think, and make me seek Him. This has put my heart into a whole new level of God control. My heart is so free, to look at the all the fantastic failures of men around me and just be exceedingly thankful for their presence in my life in whatever capacity, to just feel overwhelming love and hope for what God will do, and, new to the stage of my heart, a burden to pray for them and silently fight to protect them from the attacks that will plague them their whole lives.

So I have spent, and will continue to spend my Valentines Day in prayer for my hundreds of Valentines. The children, teenagers, and men of God that He has given me to know and learn from. I have never before felt such a sincere, pure and weighty love for you all. I am sincerely sorry for any past thoughtless word or action that communicated differently, and for all the times I will fail you in the future. I am hopefully in nothing more than God's ability to work in my weakness. I am so very proud of each of you gentlemen and the way you live, fight and pursue God.

And to Bo, Andrew and Glenn, my father and actual brothers, You guys are such a ridiculous blessing. I have, and continue to learn so much from you three. I can't even tell you.


Happy Valentines Day.

What?

In keeping with our anti-theme, this picture has no real ties to
this post, but it always makes me smile.

What do you do when you have writers block? Do I even have writers block? What is the opposite of that? When too many ideas are in your head that you pick one to come out so they just sit there and accumulate until you still don't know what to write?

Do you write about the rain that has fallen steadily for four days? And how everywhere you go, the creeks have turned into fast and powerful rivers, and fields have turned into beautiful still pools, reflecting the gray sky above?

Do you write about your parents? And how hard they make you laugh with their goofy looks and exaggerated conversation? Or how much you appreciate the lengths they go to, to make you laugh and feel loved?

Do you write about how you have also had a growing appreciation for facebook and the advances that allow you to keep up, invest in, catch up with so many people? And how so many conversations have encouraged you, or put a smile on your face?

Do you talk about the weird dent in my life I feel sometimes that has to be made out of elastic because it always bounces back out? Do I talk about how I missed laughter today - and the people who live far away that keep laughing so hard?

Do I talk about the three journals lying on my bed that have helped soothe my mind, and simultaneously inspire more writing? Do I talk about all God has been teaching me through those? Do I list off things like, trust, prayer, perseverance, trust, Godly love, trust, prayer and letting the Holy Spirit have plenty of room in my life?

Do I talk about my guitar, and how it can't hold a tune since the neck broke, but I still have it out to learn to play it anyway, because I want to be able to bring music wherever I go?

Do I talk about how tired I am, but how full my day was that started 15 hours ago?

Do I talk about how insanely excited and blessed I am to be leaving tomorrow to go on a "tour de Georgia" stopping in Dahlonega, Lawrenceville, Dowtown ATL, Kennesaw, and beyond? Do I talk about what is really exciting is not the places I will see, but the people? Do I mention how full of love and hope I am for my camp sisters that I will be with?

Do I talk about how overwhelming thankful I am that my car's only problem was a loose sway bar and some unbalanced tires? And that the bill was less than a $30?

Do I go on to how much I love my town? With the honest, friendly mechanics? The librarians who take the time to know, not just your name, but care about your life? The signs declaring "We'll Keep Our Guns" that are posted in front of the sign welcoming travelers to town? That the front page news was on the demise of "Car-truck", a beloved parade feature for ten years?

Or do I tick off a bunch of past English professors and write a post that is nothing but questions?

Hey, what would you do in a situation like this?

New Past, New Present, New Year

New Past

At the end of 2011, I rolled my eyes at Jennie McCarthy's sophomoric antics and watched a ball "drop" over a crowd of screaming, kissing, jumping and waving people. I toasted my family with sparkling grape juice, and most likely went to bed.

As I went to bed, I didn't know that in the coming year I would become an aunt for the first time.

I didn't know that in my fifth summer at Strong Rock I would become the Girls Head Counselor.

I didn't know that I would move home to live with my parents.

I didn't know that I would grow so many encouraging relationships in those last few months at Greensboro.

I didn't know that I would be working 3 part time jobs to pay off school.

I didn't know that I would meet the likes of Laura, Jenna, Laura Lee, Brandon, Bryant, Tyler, Trey, Ethan, James, Dustin, Mallory, Hayden, Amy at Strong Rock this summer.

I didn't know that I would travel to Chicago and Denver.

I didn't know that I would fall so much more in love with my family.

I didn't know how much heart that would grow from the youth and children in my church. 

I didn't know how already established relationships with family and friends would grow and change and teach me.

I didn't know how fiercely God would wrestle my heart.

I didn't know how much more I could love, ache, miss and feel. 

I didn't know how little I actually knew.

I didn't know all that has become my New Past.

New Present

Last night, at the end of 2012, I laughed, danced, played drawing games, trivia games, introduced my parents to Chuck, toasted every hour with sparkling grape juice, ate an ice cream Sunday, rolled my eyes at Jennie McCarthy's antics, watched more Chuck with my sister, got distracted looking back at camp photos and videos and went to bed at 3am.

I woke up four hours later to bid goodbye to my sister and brother-in-law, at a cinnamon roll and went back to sleep till 12:30.

I am currently one month into paying off my school loan.

I am almost (as soon as I mail it back) under contract to return to Strong Rock Camp for my sixth year, and second year as the Girl's Head Counselor.

I live at home with my parents.

My heart will hardly allow me a moment's rest, but God will also (mercifully) not leave me alone.

I feel closer than ever to my brothers and sisters.

I am listening to Amos Lee.

I am way farther along to healthy mind, body, and Spirit than probably ever before.

I can not fathom how blessed I am by the events of 2012.

New Year

I am on contract to work my three jobs through May.

I am on contract at camp from May till the end of July.

I have no earthly clue what happens starting in my life starting in August.

I am on track to obliterate my loan by the summer.

I am hoping to continue eating healthier, exercising more, spending more intentional time with Jesus, and learning how better to handle life as a non-child.

I am looking forward to learning what I do not know.

I am excited to meet every single new face and new life that will shape my concepts of life and relationships.

I am hoping in falling more in love with my God.

I am planning to enjoy watching my family grow and change.

I am slightly terrified of the unknown blob that is my future.

I am ecstatic to see the unknown blob that is my future take shape.

I am ridiculously blessed by each breath that becomes past.

I am honored by each heartbeat that is my present.

I am filled with hope and growing faith for everything ahead that is my future.