magic 8 ball.

I remember the days when a game of MASH told me who I would marry, what type of house I would live in, what job I would have and all other sorts of details.  The magic 8 ball would be shaken until the preferred answer to my burning question appeared (yes – definitely!).  Even at a young age, I desired to know what was to become of my life.

With age – and wisdom, of course – our means of prediction should theoretically become more advanced.  As I comtemplated potential changes with a friend this week, we came up with a new method that would provide us a glimpse of our fate.  This is quite groundbreaking, really.  Are you ready for it?  Okay, here it is: a “choose your own adventure” book/DVD of our lives with alternate endings (complete with a sneak preview feature).  Each ending shows us how our life would be impacted by specific decisions that we made.  We watch the various endings and pick the one we like best.  Yes.  Oh, the wonders of what can be devised on G-chat.

Before too many of you get concerned that I’m seriously considering and putting my hope in this strategy, I’ll refrain from elaborating on our other ideas.  I can’t give up all of my secrets in one sitting.

I’ve been reminding myself of wise words that were spoken to me by a wonderful woman a few years ago.  We were discussing a disappointment in my life and, in turn, my desire to know my fate, to know that things would be good again.  She encouraged me to remember that our own omnicscience would diminish the value and need for our faith.  She said to me, “if we knew our future, there would be no need and no reason to have faith.  ‘Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.'”  Her words were simple and true, reminding me of a truth I knew, yet I was struggling to fully embody and embrace it at the time.

The events of my past have made me who I am today – and I would not alter any of them.  I am thankful for the joys and the struggles, for the scars that remind me of what I have overcome, and for those who have been a witness to my life.  I know that the season of life I am in holds many decisions, changes and surprises.  Several of these seem to have the potential to be life-altering and hold various levels of permanence, which makes them a bit more intimidating. 

Oh, life.  You are not what I expected you to be.  And I think that is a good, good thing.

live strong.

You were given this life because you were strong enough to live it.

Hindsight is a beautiful thing.  The passing of time and distance away from certain events or moments allows us to see things more clearly, to understand the inner-connectedness of our circumstances and personal elections that have all played a role in bringing us to where we stand today.

I’ve been encouraged throughout these past few days that I am being aptly prepared for what lies ahead.  Whether evidenced by a conversation, a book or a thought, the intricate details are aligning, pointing me toward the unknown horizon.  I have the feeling that I am in the midst of an experience that I will look back upon with hindsight and recognize the changes that have occurred in me, the choices that were made, and the consequences that evolved subsequent to these choices.

I sent off my pilot today, bidding him adieu as he prepared for a 4-day trip to Florida with his boss and some clients.  This is a week when the life of a pilot looks good.  Fly some passengers to a beautiful place, hang out for a few days  while they do their thing, and then fly them home.  I could handle this.  As I sent him off today, I realized that I might have to get used to this ritual, and the feelings that accompany it, if I desire to keep his company.  As Ben contemplates options for his future, it seems inevitable that the length of his absence and the distance of his travel will increase, at least for awhile. 

At times, this realization excites me.  And it terrifies me.  I stand in the midst of the unknown, a land of speculation and wonder.  “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”  My vision may be blurred and blinded, my perspective only includes what I know to be familiar and true.  I’m praying to walk with grace my feet and faith my eyes, to trust that my weakness will be overcome by the One who sees beyond the limits of my capacity, Whose power is made perfect in weakness.

urgency.

It’s the most wonderful (and chaotic!) time of the year.  A lot has happened since I’ve last posted.  A friend got married.  I spent some time in D.C.  where I wore scrubs (with stilettos  – the new trend, for sure) as I toured a hospital for work.  Scrubs are fantastically comfortable…I wish that could be my work uniform!  I participated in the baking, decorating and consuming of a ridiculous amount of Christmas cookies.  I finished my penultimate semester of grad school.  It’s been hectic.  The time has passed quickly.

As I was navigating my way through the crowded aisles of a store earlier this week, I could feel the sense of urgency as people rushed to complete their shopping done in preparation for Christmastime.  Carts were stacked high with special gifts and treats, children seemed exceptionally giddy, and strangers offered greetings and grace in a manner that surfaces at this time of year. 

It is a season of anticipation and expectation.  I love that about this time of year.  We celebrate the birth of a King whose gift has granted us life to the fullest.  Many eagerly watch for snowflakes to fall and blanket the ground, transforming it into a scintillating wonderland.  We agonize over finding the perfect gift for loved ones as a token of our affections.  Children go to bed anxiously on Christmas Eve and wake up (much earlier than normal!) to see if Saint Nicholas left his mark.  We’re all waiting for something….whether it be a reunion with family and friends, the receipt or delivery of a perfect gift, special meals, or some time off of work. 

As much as I enjoy looking forward, I’ve been trying to keep myself grounded in the current day.  So much of my life has been focused upon what was ahead – the succession of high school to college to work/more school keeps one mindful of their future, not always the present.  That will be changing soon.  I am reaching the point where my life is not measured by what is next.  Sure, there will be other changes and turning points, but I think it is safe to say that I have fully transitioned into adulthood.  I am in a place where many would consider that I have “made it”.  Many have started asking what I will be doing after I graduate this May.  Oh, the possibilities.  I can stay here in western PA or I could go.  There isn’t a clear cut answer like there had been before.  For now, my life is here.  Amidst the anticipation of both the Christmas season and this season of my life, I find myself waiting, often patiently, yet sometimes a bit more frantically.  Just one step at a time.

shipwreck.

Writing tends to be a very personal thing for me; I’m often hesitant to share certain pieces simply because they are so personal.  I have revised perfectly turn-in-able (yes, I’m making up words) papers to preserve a bit of privacy.  As best as my memory serves me, I think there have only been two papers I have written that have brought tears to my eyes.  Now I know what you might be thinking – that this must be in response to the quality of the compositions as reflected in receiving harsh remarks and dismal grades.  In the humblest way, I refute those notions.  The first was for an English Comp class at Fredonia State that I wrote, centered around my brother leaving for college (these were not tears of joy – I missed him terribly.).  The second is one I’ve been working on currently. 

The paper I’ve been mulling over the last few days deals is in response to a book assigned for my elective class.  Sharon Daloz Parks addresses the great need evidenced in young adults (in my context, college students) for mentoring and guidance during their “search for meaning, purpose and faith”.  Parks expounds upon the significant influence of “shipwreck” experiences which occur in the lives of students: how students cope when their lives are disrupted and disoriented, full of dissonance and disequilibrium (how about that for a sequence of words that begin with dis-?).  To put it plainly, how do we respond when our lives seem to be falling apart?  I wrote of the experiences of friends that would qualify as such.  As I recalled the stories that have left scars and wounds, serving as permanent reminders of past pain and despair, I ached for those whose stories I was telling.  They were tales of lives lost, relationships broken, hopes dashed and struggles perpetuated.  I had to pause more than once before being able to continue typing because I could no longer make out what was on the screen.  I had been given the assignment with a twist; in effect, I was to write about stories that are not “happily ever after”.  My accounts were of those who turned from faith in the face of trepidation.

Clearly this paper has not been a cheery assignment.  But thankfully, there has been some beauty and glimmers of hope hidden between the lines of these histories.  This work has served as a reminder to me of the resilience of people.  We are often struck down, feeling defeated, disheartened and desperate.  Yet we are not destroyed.  Through the power of mercy and grace, along with the encouragement and support of those around us, we rise again.  It amazes me.  In these times we are often faced with the fragility and futility of life, and in turn, we evidence the strength and value that lies within.  We often fail to acknowledge the strengths and talents that we have been enabled with; it may only be after another’s encouragement or a surviving a “shipwreck” that we come to see what we are made of.

“We are hard-pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed…Therefore, we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”  Paul, to the Corinthians

uncertain.

If I had a dime for every time I heard the word “uncertain” these last few days…you know what I would be.

We’re in uncertain times.  The economy, the nation, you name it – the future remains mysterious.  Some people are engaging in discussions and reading articles in attempts to understand what exactly is going on and what potential outcomes may surface.  Others don’t care and continue on with their daily lives, comfortable in their ignorant bliss.  So what do we do when we aren’t sure what tomorrow holds?  We frantically check our retirement/saving/stock accounts.  We indulge in bad habits that emerge in the stressful circumstances.  We panic.  We can’t stop talking about it.  And this is only the beginning.

Uncertain times are an opportunity.  They are a reminder of the provisions and conquered challenges of the past.  It is amidst uncertainty that we are tested, stretched, grown in ways not possible during times of comfort and contentment.  Uncertainty tests faith and serves as an indication of its strength.  If we knew how our lives would pan out, the results of every predicament and trial, the joys and troubles that each day would hold, the evidence of faith in anyone but ourselves would disappear.  Assured faith becomes visibly apparent in times of strife, as one recognizes that the future is unseen and unknown, yet proceeds in a manner of confidence and conviction, trusting that the providence and grace of God will valiantly prevail.

Though the road is long with obstacles scattered along the way, I trust that better days are ahead.  We can’t trudge on alone, and we can’t fix the problems of the world by ourselves.  But a committed, engaged community can be a powerful force.  One way or another, we’ll make it through together, stronger and wiser.

it’s amazing.

It’s amazing for me to think of how much has changed in my life in the past year.  My address has changed.  The provider of my paycheck has changed.  I’m a full-fledged grad student.  The people with whom I regularly interact and engage with have changed.  My hair is different.  I think I’m even a notch taller (note to my body: I wouldn’t mind staying right where I am, k?).  There’s a lot more, but you get the idea.

I’ve been digesting this year of transition a bit…reflecting on all of the changes that have comprised the past 14 months since I graduated from good ol’ Grove City.  It’s a lot.  The last four months brought the latest wave of change as I transitioned to my current job/town/etc.  This last wave was different – in a good way.  I had no idea what to expect.  Absolutely no idea.  I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.  I didn’t have expectations, or even the faintest inkling of what was ahead.  Uncertainty can be fearful, but instead I felt a strong sense of peace about the whole situation.  It felt right.  It felt good.  It felt different.  I was ready for change.

Those who know me well know of my optimistic tendencies.  I can stretch optimism so far that it becomes a fault.  Often I face new adventures with expectations of brilliance and grandeur, which typically lead to frustrating circumstances.  As I prepared to leave Grove City, the thought that I had no idea what I was getting myself into was refreshing.  I didn’t have expectations.  Instead, I prepared myself to be open to the new opportunities I would encounter.  I prepared myself to go.  And that’s it, that’s all I could do.  Like Abraham, “when called to go to a place…he obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going”, I went even though I didn’t really know what I was in for.  I’ve always loved that verse (and that chapter…and that book…).

I feel affirmed in my decision.  It still feels right.  What a sense of peace it is to know that this is where God has lead me to be.  I’m so thankful that my path has led me here.

It’s amazing to be cared for, to feel loved, to not only show compassion, but to also receive it.  I have some beautiful flowers adorning my desk, reminding me of the sweetness and joy that comes from such reciprocated sentiments.  Another unexpected and unanticipated twist to my story.  But that makes it all the sweeter.

It’s amazing to consider the many ways in which I have been provided for, in the ways I have been blessed beyond my deserving.