All The Single Ladies

I remember having a conversation a few years ago with a really wise woman I know. We were talking about her experiences as a single lady. At time time, all of my friends had recently-ish started relationships (okay, not all of them... only seven) and I anticipated that many of these friends were soon to become 'my married friends' (I was right). I wanted to know: how did she handle this transition? What did it look like? How did her friendships change?

She gently said many wise and helpful things, and I won't repeat them all now. One that stood out to me was that although I wasn't going to lose my friends once they got married, I would need to acquire some new single friends. Since she has been single for quite a while, she laughingly told me that this was a process that she has had to repeat multiple times as her recently acquired single friends became married friends.

To be honest, I wasn't super keen on this idea. First of all, I was quite attached to the friends that I already had, and I didn't like the idea that I would need any more. Was our relationship really going to change so much that I would need new friends to fill holes my married friends had left? Secondly, in the depths of my often selfish and unreasonable heart, I did not want to make long-term, sustainable plans for being single. My heart has a number of complaints about singleness, and the idea that as my friends got married I would have to make new friends seemed like another point in favor of moving out of this season quickly.

However, I am clearly not in charge of the seasons of my life. That responsibility goes to God, and I can only assume that He is doing a much better job than I would. So, four years after that conversation, what conclusions have I reached with regards to the friendship advice?

Friendships change, and they stay the same. This is true of both my married friends and my single friends. To my relief, my friends who have gotten married are still the same delightful people, they still know my heart, and they still love me. They are still a source of joy and encouragement, even though our friendships have practically changed. However, having single friends is a huge blessing, and in the moments when I need them, I am very grateful for my single friends.

Lady M and Elizabeth are both single, and they
seem to be doing just fine. Of course, they have
a single friend for when they need snuggles.

It's not that my married friends are too busy, too different, or too far removed from the #singlelife. There is just a sweetness in sharing what is unique about the season of life you are currently in with others who are there with you. It's nice to have single friends because:

-You have someone listen to you recount the number of times in 3 days that people have talked to you about your future children, men they have considered setting you up with, and men they anticipate you marrying, so your friend can tell you that you're not crazy or neurotic. Without a friend, I wouldn't know when I am actually being crazy or neurotic.
-You have someone to joke with when another engagement is announced on Facebook because, "surprise, it's happened again ;)" Left to my own devices, I might dwell on others' engagements for longer than is helpful, then feel guilty for dwelling. With a friend, we can have a moment to chuckle, eye-roll when necessary, and then we move on with our days.
-You have someone to sit with at weddings. Because it's true... at least some of the single friends you make are going to quickly turn into married friends, and they might not know where to seat you. Luckily, if you need someone who loves weddings to remind you all of the reasons why this is going to be incredibly fun, I can be that person for you because weddings are my favorite!
-You (sometimes) will have the blessing of a friend who loves the season of life they are in and can open your eyes to the joys you are missing. They can encourage you to rejoice in what is good about life instead of joining you in your pity party. But since they also experience the hardships of being single, they are tender to your struggles. If you are very lucky, they will remind you that it is unfair to compare the joys of someone else's season to the struggles of your own season.

So to my single friends out there, particularly the ones who are about to enjoy their first wedding season full of their own close friends: it's going to be fine. Your friends will still love you once they are married. It may be more difficult to have sleepovers with them and plan things spontaneously, though, so its worth the effort to make some new friends who are also single. Not because you need to, but because you will be grateful for those relationships when you take the time to think back. 

Me Before You- Do Implicit Messages Matter?

If you haven’t yet read this book or watched the movie, I should warn you that this will have spoilers. But also, I’m going to recommend that you skip watching it (I honestly can’t remember the last time I actively recommended that people avoid a movie I had seen, this is so weird) so just accept the spoilers, read this post, and move on with your life without subjecting yourself to the movie.

I was expecting a tragic love story. I had watched the trailers, and I was prepared to cry (although to be totally fair, I hadn't actually read the book so I had only vague ideas about the ending and was thus not totally prepared) The movie did produce many tears, but they were unexpectedly angry tears. This was initially because I was angry and frustrated at Will Traynor deciding to end his life, upset at what seemed like a selfish decision that if he couldn’t have life on his terms, he wouldn’t live at all. I started my cry hurt by the devastating choice a fictional character was making, but I quickly moved on to being angry about the people selling me this story.

I wanted a love story and what I got instead was a depressed man insisting on his own autonomy while simultaneously attempting to convince a woman that the choices she is making about her life are a waste of her potential and that she needs to live differently. Her feelings grow from “I hate this job and I don’t want you to die” to “I guess I have feelings for you and I still don’t want you to die.” Meanwhile, both of them manipulate and keep things from each other. Now, don’t get me wrong, this is Hollywood and I don’t expect too much in terms of a love story, but the climax of their "romance" seemed to be that, as Samuel James wrote, “Louisa finally receives his affection, but his true love remains his life before the accident.” This movie has less to say about love and more to say about disability, human value, and what makes life meaningful, and these messages are where things get really disturbing.

Essentially, the message this movie sends is “If you are disabled in some way that you feel prevents you from living life the way you want to, death is a totally acceptable option. And if you truly love someone and they want to die, you will accept their choice and be there for them in the way that they want you to be.” Someone else curtly summed it up as "Live boldly... unless you are in a wheelchair".

“I can’t live the life I want so I should die” is simply, deeply, untrue. And before you tell me that it's okay for the movie to make that truth claim, or not okay for me to reject it because 'some people in his situation actually feel that way'... let's address that.

First of all, Will is a fictional character created by an able-bodied woman who knew nothing about quadriplegia prior to writing this book, and who somehow managed to avoid talking to a single person with quadriplegia during the course of her extensive medical research on the topic. Will represents less an actual person experiencing a life changing disability than he represents able-bodied people's perceptions of disability. As many disabled people have already expressed with much more eloquence and authority than I have, this movie perpetuates harmful stereotypes about disability while eliminating realistic pictures of what daily life with disability looks like (one can only assume because the makers find the realities of disability distasteful, shameful, or perhaps just unromantic). Secondly, regarding the 'someone somewhere actually feels that way' sentiment...  if I actually came across someone with a spinal cord injury that resulted in quadriplegia who felt hopeless and depressed and wanted to die, I would like to think that I could compassionately respond to them in a way that validates their experience and emotions without agreeing with them that they should die.

As I have said, disability activists have pretty clearly expressed the various problems with this story and the way that it was told, both from a community perspective as well as their own experiences. But I haven't heard voices speaking up on behalf of those who are depressed and suicidal, and so I would like to make one additional point.

For more than a decade now, we have been sending able-bodied and exceptionally fit men and women in the prime of their lives to go fight wars for our country. And many of them have come home with life-altering injuries. They have demonstrated totally understandable difficulties adjusting to civilian life post-injury, not the least of which because they devoted years to a mission that they are no longer a part of. That loss of purpose, as well as the daily realities of life with a disability, takes a heavy emotional toll, and is a contributing factor to the high rate of veteran suicide. What is that rate, you wonder? 22 people. Every. Day.

Maybe I am biased. Perhaps I am overly sensitive because of the work that I do, but in our current climate, do we really need the implicit messages in Me Before You? Are they what we should be telling people struggling with depression and suicide? Are they what we should be telling their families and friends?

Can we agree that anyone taking their own life is tragic? Because I think it is possible, if we don't pay attention to the messages filtering through our experiences, to become nonchalant and lackadaisical about this truth. And I think it is possible, if we aren't careful about the messages we are tacitly supporting, that real harm might be done in the lives of real people.  Either we decide, as a community, that life is valuable, so we support each other and fight for each other and help others find meaning and purpose in life, or... we decide its a grey area and don't fight and people die.

Perhaps you think this is over dramatic. I can accept that, and I will simply say, just in case the messages that we send matter: Every person is valuable, regardless of ability or disability. Every life has meaning, even in the midst of difficulty. Everyone should live boldly. Everyone should live.

Not So Great Expectations

I thought everything would be better once I got my grad applications in.

Oops.

It seems that I have, probably for the hundredth time, mistakenly thought that I was about to get to a place in life where things would be easy... easy enough, that is, for me to do it by myself. I was expecting to reach this point right now and not desperately need Jesus.

Oh what a mistake. It's always such a mistake.

...Because the first half of January got me. I felt overwhelmed and I wanted to crawl under my desk and not do a single thing that apparently all need to be done at that very moment. And in the midst of this overwhelmed feeling, I thought, "It wasn't supposed to be like this!" I was angry because my expectations were inaccurate and I wasn't prepared for the way I was feeling.

Then in the midst of my midst of my frustration and dismay one week, I tuned in to the words playing on my (totally non-Christian music) Pandora station:

...Here I raise mine ebenezer, hither by thy help I've come
And I hope, by thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home
Jesus sought me when a stranger wandering from the fold of God
he to rescue me from danger interposed his precious blood

Oh to grace how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be
let thy goodness like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to thee
prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love
Here's my heart Lord take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above

I suppose I can add "impromptu rendition of my favorite hymn in the middle of a hard day" to my list of things to be thankful for...

The point is that I need grace every day. I need Jesus every day. It's to today, by His help, that I've come, and it's up to Him for me to safely arrive at my (eternal) home. But there is some prideful part of me that continues thinking that I can be independent and that I should be unless it's necessary to depend on God for something that's too hard for me to handle. That is not how life works at all, and unconsciously assessing whether I'll be able to make it through the day on my own sets me up for epic failure... or at least unnecessarily stressful days.

So today some of the responsibilities that were overwhelming me in January are completed. Others have been added to the list. But I'll be okay, because Christ's grace covers me today, like it does every day.

Space To Create

I wrote the beginning of this sometime in July in a 15-minute flurry of words while samples were in a thermal cycler... I had a break from this but life is back to feeling intense as I focus on grad school applications, and I am sure it will be relevant at other stages as well. 

Some days I feel like my creativity is going to shrivel up and die... that I will no longer be able to create beautiful things with words, notes, or colors. I fear that one day, creating beautiful things will no longer feel right to me.

It certainly doesn't feel like I am cultivating a love or skill for creating. I haven't blogged in months. I haven't read a new book in weeks. I don't remember the last time I sat down at the piano. I spend all day with numbers... from miRNA protocols and data analysis in the morning to lists of graduate programs in the afternoon and finally GRE math review at night. Every day is scheduled tightly, more numbers telling me what I should be accomplishing at any given hour.

Mostly, I am loving the challenge. I have so many things to accomplish, so many tasks to cross off the list. I have a goal that feels much more tangible than it has for the last year. I have sub-goals categorized neatly in my google calendar. I need to follow the schedule exactly and give 100% because there is so much going on that a slight derailment of the plan leads to breakdown and tears over quantitative comparison questions (although, to be fair, the quant comp questions make a concerted effort to induce tears on their own). Essentially, I am feeling very purpose-driven, which is a familiar and generally preferred state of being for me. This is what much of college was like.

And yet, I miss the peace and quiet to simply observe the world around me. I miss reflecting on what I see through creating... creating anything other than scientific papers, that is. There is much drive in my life at the moment but not a lot of passionate creativity.

How do I create space to... create?

Several months later and I still don't have an answer. I am knitting when I have the chance, and I am enjoying sunrises on my way to work. Sometimes I just let myself talk about clinical psych (and the gospel) without trying to answer essay questions or write personal statements.

I'm mostly relying on the ebb and flow of busyness, knowing that this season will end if I just work hard and finish it. But I would love if I could learn to be busy without shutting down this aspect of my personality... since to the best of my knowledge, there will be busy seasons forever :)

Hopefully I will work this out eventually, and in the meantime, advice would be appreciated if you have any. Lady M and Elizabeth have no sympathy of course, since they maintain busy schedules of sleeping, eating, and intimidating any humans who visit their house and still manage to stare out the windows and contemplate life at length.

Who Do You Want To Be?

Yesterday, a dear woman left this life to be with Jesus. For those of you who have followed Kara Tippetts' journey through her blog Mundane Faithfulness, you already know how amazing she was, what an impact she had on the lives of people around her, and how much she will be missed by those who loved her.

As I read some of her last posts and those of her husband and friends from the past few weeks, I was-as always-overcome with a wash of emotions. With her simple, deep eloquence, she revealed things I didn't know about our visible and invisible lives, and my heart was stirred. Grief and hope, hurt and joy welled up within me, with an added blend of encouragement and discouragement.

Encouragement: Have you gotten a glimpse of this woman's life? It was beautiful. She was beautiful. Over and over, the people who love her spoke of her genuine kindness and her gift of loving people. Her deep trust and reliance on Jesus was so evident; she helped people (me) to see Jesus more clearly. Her personality was so precious and unique, her giftings from the Lord were poured out and used for his glory. I want to be more like that. I want to be Kara.

Discouragement: I am not Kara. Becoming like her seems impossible in some ways and actually is impossible in others. I am yearning to be something I am not, a cricket watching a butterfly.

The fog and gloom of this winter is slowly lifting, and I am starting to feel myself coming alive again. I am beginning to care about things and it feels so good. But as the apathy begins to fade, I am seeing so much of myself that I don't want to see, and I am dissatisfied with who I am. It's like I have this annoying girl with me all the time that I can't get away from, and she is NEVER going to be like the women I aspire to be.

But I am not meant to be Kara. I am not meant to be Corrie, or Susanna, or Amy, or Kim, or Marty (although they are all beautiful examples).

I am meant to be like Jesus.

And I am promised the Holy Spirit to help me become more like Jesus. And I am promised that it is not just up to me, that God WILL make it happen.

"Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is." -1 John 3:2

Go back and actually read that verse. Think about it. 

As I become more like Jesus, I feel more like myself, the self I was meant to be. I remember this feeling of becoming myself, even though I don't feel it right now. 

I think it is okay to yearn for transformation, to desire to be someone you are not (yet). Often for me, this feeling is a companion of conviction, and the desire to partner with God in his work is a good thing! But ultimately I am being transformed, which is a passive verb. I am watching and being amazed at what God is doing with my life. Well, at the moment, I am not seeing what God is doing. But I am asking him to work, and waiting expectantly to be amazed. 

Because God can do something even more amazing than making me like Kara Tippetts. He can make me like Jesus. 

When Life Gives You Snow, Go To Snowball

Last weekend, I went up to Gettysburg for Snowball, because I only live an hour away and there were friends and a big band and swing music, so really why not?

Except I wasn't sure it was a good idea. I try not to go to Gettysburg when I am feeling particularly sad or discontent with life, because college was great but I'm not a student anymore, and I don't want to try (in vain) to hold on to something that God gave and took away at the proper time. Also, I like be able to pour into friends I visit when I am there, to listen to them and encourage them. I don't want my Gburg visits to consist of me lounging around complaining about my life.

And let's be real... sad, discontent, and lounging around all describe this winter very well. I have always disliked winter, but I have never been so consistently depressed (for lack of a better word that doesn't connote clinical diagnosis) as I have this year. Its wearing me down. I don't like being sad and unmotivated all the time. I really want to care about life again.

But anyway, I went to Gettysburg. And it was the most delightful thing! I got to catch up with dear friends, put on a fancy dress, get my hair done (oh, the joy of friends to fix your hair), and went swing dancing. And then, because that wasn't glorious enough, the next morning I went to Hanover Valley Presbyterian Church for the first time since graduation, enjoyed a wonderful service, hugged more dear friends, met precious friends' new children, and got more life-giving people time. It was so encouraging to hear what God is doing on campus and in the hearts of people I love there. It was so encouraging to be reunited with church family and worship God together. It was so encouraging to wear heels and dance for hours. Why had I stayed away from Gettysburg for so long?

Sometimes, my pride in thinking I know what is best for me might get in the way of what is actually best for me. 

This morning in church, we were singing this lovely song, Good Good Father, (I'm just waiting for warm weather and a guitar player so we can sit outside and sing this with delightful harmonies all the time) and this line stuck out to me:

"You know just what we need before we say a word"

Of course I know this is true, but what if this is actually true?!? What if God really knows what I need before I tell him... What if God knows what I need regardless of whether or not I know what I need?

What if he knows that there is something I need more than sunshine and warmth? What if he knows that I have a much more desperate need, and he is fulfilling it without me even asking like the good Father he is? I need His presence daily. I need to be brought to a place where I recognize my need for Him. I need my heart to know that He quenches my thirst and learn to go to Him. I need to be striped of my pride and given a heart full of compassion.

I need a living hope even more than I need springtime. (And as I walked to my car, contemplating these things after the service... the sunshine kissed my face, and a gentle breeze brought a slight scent of spring, even in the midst of all this snow. He's a good, good father.)

Blog-iomics and Life Updates

Blogging is a tricky mix of "this is my diary" and "this is NOT my diary." Too many opinions with not enough real life gets preachy and boring. Ain't nobody got time for that. On the other hand, if write a stream of consciousness as it happens, you are going to (1) be overwhelmed and confused (that stuff is hard to follow) and (2) realize how screwed up I am.

It's not that I don't expect to confuse you occasionally... and if you are perceptive (or even can read) you should already know that I have issues. I would just prefer not to terrify you with too much of either one.

So I have drafts and drafts of things that I want to tell you. However, packaging these to neaten them up without making them into a lecture has bottle-necked things recently. And it's true, I have also been very low energy. Or you could just say I'm bad at blogging.

But I love reading blogs. And I was thinking about the blogs I love, realizing what a blessing my favorites are and how much these women and men sacrifice to write them... they all lead fascinating/inspiring/sacrificial/sometimes mundane/sometimes difficult lives, and they take the time to honestly write it down. How kind of them! I appreciate it so much!

My life is not so fascinating, inspiring, etc... it's often not even so difficult (although the mundane I can related to). I'm not like the people whose blogs I love the most, but I want to be more like them. So I'll just try to be honest (maybe even consistent?!?) and hopefully along the way you will see God at work. I'll tell you the things that God is stirring my heart over and maybe they will (or maybe they won't) move your heart. This seems like a terrifying risk to take but I know that rationally, it's not possible to be passionate about ALL the things all at once so it's okay if you don't care as much as I do. I'm just going to keep talking (or typing) as I stumble through life and hope that it's not a waste.

So with that resolve, here are some quick life updates and thoughts. Some of them have their own posts sitting as a messy draft that I may or may not stick cat pictures in and post at some point:

-My job is going well. That is to say, I am enjoying it today and if I don't enjoy it tomorrow, I will still be glad that I have it. The research itself waxes and wanes, so some days are more motivating than others. Also, my personality is definitely not suited to working alone with samples all day, but we probably knew that already. I have been getting some cool opportunities here, and I am starting my own project on PTSD in a military cohort soon, so that's exciting (and a bit concerning, because miRNA? that stuff is way more complicated than I was thinking...)

-I've been fatigued since October for no good reason, but it has definitely gotten better between Thanksgiving and Christmas. It's possible that I have had a holiday season reprieve and this fatigue will resume, but I am hoping what I'm feeling now is because I was sick and I'm fighting off all the bugs I was exposed to on Christmas. For the record, I don't recommend donating blood on a whim the day before Christmas Eve if your blood pressure and iron are lower than usual, and then skipping dinner afterwards and not drinking enough (in my defense, I would have eaten if I hadn't gotten stuck in traffic and needed to go straight from work to rehearsal). We can add this to the list of dumb things Christiana has done that you should not do. In retrospect, I think you should probably not give blood right before Christmas anyway because of aforementioned exposure to sick people that will likely be combined with lack of sleep on Christmas eve. Personally, I will probably just not give blood in the winter... but that's because I an unreasonable about the cold.

-Christmas was lovely. I've been sick more or less since the 23rd, but Christmas was still a lovely day. My Pap was way happier than I anticipated based on Thanksgiving, Mom and I didn't set our house on fire (the shed, unfortunately, didn't fare so well but technically Mom and I didn't set that on fire either), and I got to see most of my family (although some of my cousins I wish I had more time with). Since for a while I didn't really enjoy any holidays, it's nice that seeing family can be pleasant, and it was this year :)

-Church is decent. Actually, church is good, but I'm feeling like I'm in a dry season spiritually, so I'm not enjoying church like I usually do. Or reading my bible. Or praying. Or singing. Christmas was still good, because you don't have to feel totally awesome about a true thing for that thing to still be totally awesome. Basically, I'm holding onto intellectual faith, force-feeding myself the word (excellent advice from a wise friend), and trusting that the emotions will be rekindled in my heart. It's reminded me recently of how God's love radiates like light and heat... I want that warmth but I don't create it myself. It comes from Him, just like spiritual life and growth come from Him. More on that another time...

-The cats are happy. They very much enjoyed the wadded balls of wrapping paper on Christmas morning, and at least one of them stole bows off of packages before they were unwrapped. They love the Christmas tree, but they don't actually hurt it, they just sit under it contentedly and Lady M occasionally tries to eat a jingle bell (never successfully). This week I used a hammer to put together some furniture (my wonderful mother got me a book shelf! And after putting all of the stray books on it, there is still room for more books!) and it took over an hour of both cats rolling all over and snuggling with the hammer for me to realize that I keep it in the same drawer as the cat nip. An accidental Christmas present for the kitties.

Every bow is Lady Margaret's bow

Dear Moms Of Kids With Special Needs

Since I am a single, twenty-something college grad with a job, it is possible at first glance for people at church to assume that my life is simple and neat (my life is not neat, but thanks to a decent understanding of fashion and social rules, I can fake it for you on a given Sunday). And because it might look like I come to church just to get lost in the beautiful worship sets, learn something from the intellectually stimulating message, and generally enjoy the aesthetics of a worship service, I feel the need to be especially clear...

Dear Moms of children with special needs;

I LOVE when your kids are in church.

Thank you so much for bringing your family to church. I know it can't be easy. Considering my Sunday morning routine (get myself up, get myself ready, go to church), it's hard for me to know the extent of the effort you go through before your family even makes it through the door. What I do know is that statistically, most parents with children who have special needs choose not to go to church (or go rarely), either from the stress of coordinating logistics, lack of services for their child, feelings of exclusion, or the stress of potential disruptions resulting from their kid's special needs.

Part of my heart cracks a little when I think of all the ways that I am not doing enough to make you feel like you are part of our community, help bear your family's burden, and get to know the treasures that are your kids. God is starting to move my heart in this direction because those are the things that are in his heart, and I am sorry that there are so many ways in which my hands don't yet reflect God's heart. (Isn't that our constant fight??)

But there is one area where I hope I can bring some comfort today: please don't worry about your child causing disruptions during church. Please don't worry that the people around you find your child distracting. Frankly, I love it when church is a little noisy. That's one of the things that I find particularly attractive about our church: the whole church body is there, and they are all participating! It doesn't bother me one bit if your child talks loudly when others are quiet, moves when others are still, or sometimes has difficulty controlling their emotions. Your child's participation in our worship service might be unique, but it is absolutely a benefit, not a detriment.

It's possible that, at some point, you have been discouraged by people who have intimated that your child is 'too old for that kind of behavior' or given you strange looks when you are out in public. I am so sorry if this has happened to you. Satan speaks lies, and he wants you to believe that you and your child are not welcome in church. The truth is that your child is INDISPENSABLE to the body of Christ.

"The body is a unit, though it is made up of many parts, and though all its parts are many, they form one body. So it is with Christ... But in fact God has arranged the parts of the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be... On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honorable we treat with special honor." (1 Corinth 12:12-23)

When your child is doing whatever it is that might embarrass you during the church service, I am most often thinking, "I'm so glad they are here. This is what it looks like to be the body of Christ." Although I don't contemplate the underlying logic in the moment, my reaction is largely for two reasons:

1)Your child belongs in our church-disruptions, challenges and all. Your child has intrinsic value because they have been created in the image and likeness of God (just like every other person in our church). Their adoption into the family of God rests on the righteousness of Christ and his work on the cross (just like every other person in our church). Christ was willing to go to great lengths to make your child a co-heir with himself, and since Christ has made your child part of the family, they belong. End of story.

2) Our church needs your child. God created your child uniquely, and the church would be incomplete without them. They are absolutely necessary. They are crucial. Being part of the body means that in addition to having intrinsic value, your child has a purpose as a part of our church. God is using your child to teach our church. God is using your child to encourage our church. God is using your child to display His glory to our church. They have things to contribute as a member of our church family, and we need them.

Your child's presence at church is no accident. It is also no small feat. Although I don't know if the blood, sweat, and tears required on your part are literal or figurative, I do know that when your child is at church, it is by your effort. I know that your family's presence at church is statistically rare, and eternally significant. Thank you for persevering in the face of difficulty, for coming to worship the Lord with us, and for letting your child be a part of our church. I am so glad they are here.

From my heart,

Christiana

P.S. Moms of little ones, I wanted to include you here, but I had too many things to say. Just know that I love it when you bring your children to church for both similar and different reasons, and I will have to express my gratitude some other time.

Turning Off Autopilot

The other day, I was driving on a highway that I take all the time. And I don’t want you to judge me for my inattentiveness, but I’ll tell you straight up: it was 70-E. Now, there is a part of 70 east- and west-bound that kind of intersects part of Frederick near Rt 85 (you should be shocked at my unusual use of proper road names), and the speed limit decreases from 65 mph to 55 mph. Actually, let me accurate: decreased. Used to decrease. I absolutely promise you that when I first got my license, the speed limit decreased to 55 as you entered Frederick and then increased again on the other side. But the other day, I was driving on that stretch of road, like I do ALL THE TIME, and I saw an odd sign that said “Speed Limit: 65”. And I was confused. I know the speed limit is 55 right here, because I know where it changes back to 65. But there the sign stood.

And then I was more confused. I know where the speed limit changes to 55 on 70-W as I drive into Frederick. I navigate by landmark, so seriously, I remember where the speed limit changes. It's by the school buses on the hill before you get to the first exit for Frederick. Only, the next time I was driving that way, I looked for the sign, and it wasn’t there. I did find one a little later that said “Speed Limit: 65.” What madness is happening here?? Do I live in an alternate reality??

I came up with a reasonable hypothesis, which is this: they were doing construction on that part of 70 for ages (I mean, literally years) while they were building the Rt 85 overpass that connects downtown to the other part of town. And when they were done, 70 was absolutely beautiful and no longer narrowed to two lanes through that stretch, but remained three lanes across with this weave lane that I absolutely love (I know it’s weird to feel that strongly about a weave lane, but if you had to drive past there before, you would love it too). So there isn't really a reason to slow down anymore, and my guess is that when they finished construction, they changed the speed limit.

But they finished construction years ago. Not recently. Definitely before I graduated last year. How long have I been decreasing my speed unnecessarily? Its straight up embarrassing. Not the least of which because I do NOT like it when people drive below the speed limit on the highway. I am an unobservant, unknowing speed hypocrite.

Sometimes, it's hard to see what's right in front of you

But isn’t this how life goes? You settle in to the routine, stop paying attention, and one day you realize that you have been slowing down when you didn’t need to anymore. Continuing to be childish in one particular area of your life when in most other instances, you demonstrate the maturity that you have gained in that respect. Continuing to deal with conflict in the same way you always have with someone, even though you have learned better ways of handling things with other people. Continuing to seek comfort from one bad habit, even though you have stopped going to most of your old comfort dead-ends. I know I can settle into a routine and let ages go by before I reassess whether this is the best way to handle life. Often, it takes a dumb mistake like missing a literal sign to remind myself to turn off the metaphorical autopilot and look at life with fresh eyes again.

P.S. I attribute the lack of cat pictures to the fact that Lady M and Elizabeth will never get in my car willingly. But to make up for it, here is a reminder that other people do dumb things sometimes too, including playing their cats as instruments.

When You Need A Vacation From Your Vacation

I just came home from a lovely trip to the beach, and I am totally worn out. Why are vacations so much work? In my mind, I was going to spend three days at the beach with some relatives that I both love and genuinely like... my plans involved the ocean, my book, my ipod, a ridiculously large hat, and very little else. It was supposed to be so restful! And really, I had a great time. The sun, the water, the company.

But sometimes my younger cousins make choices that I think are harmful, and what do I do about it? And sometimes life hurts my older cousins, and what do I say about it? And sometimes I get the sense that I don't quite belong, don't quite fit into my family the way I want to.

I meant to love people, to care for them emotionally, but did I? I meant to have deep, meaningful conversations with people, but things seemed to stay pretty surface level. I meant to relax in God's word while I had all the time I wanted, but time flew by.

Maybe your vacations don't involve people wondering what's wrong with you (Why you are still single? Don't you like boys?) but instead have difficulty with in-laws, conflicts between siblings, or conspicuous absences. Perhaps

Life so hard. I so tired.

you get overwhelmed by the constant stream of people or are tired of dealing with some of them by the time you head home. Sometimes vacations are just tiring.

When I woke up Sunday morning after sleeping in my own bed again (and not in a room with two 12-year old boys, yessss) I was still feeling weary, but I knew that I had to get up and go to church. Even though I mostly wanted to sleep and not have to interact with a single person (sorry every person I saw in church this week, it wasn't you), I needed to go worship and hear the word.

Rest is something that I so often want to create for myself in my situation, but more and more that kind of rest feels like a letdown. It's a counterfeit to the real rest that can only be found in God. Not that I am putting down naps, because REM sleep is seriously helpful for your brain, but meeting with the church to seek God together gave me more rest for my soul than all the naps, relaxing in the hot tub, and floating in the ocean did. I want to look to my vacation for rest, but God is the one who really sustains me (Psalm 3:5), gives me rest when my body is tired (Psalm 127:2) gives me hope for my heart when I can't fix my family (Job 11:18) and gives me peace for my mind when I fail to love people perfectly (Psalm 4:8). So instead of trying to get something from your vacation that it can't really give you, just enjoy vacation for what it is: a break from work and daily life during which you get to go someplace new and do fun things with other people.

P.S. While the beach is a lovely vacation for me, there are much better vacation spots for cats. Although my kitties haven't been to all these places, I would guess that their favorite is inside my suitcase. On top of the lid, on top of my clean clothes, really any spot is great.

That Time When Graduation Was A Year Ago

Yesterday was graduation day for the class of 2014 at Gettysburg. Even before my newsfeed was awash with orange and blue and sentimental statuses, I was feeling nostalgic. Today marks exactly one year since I graduated, and it feels like it was only yesterday, just a world away. How could a year possibly have passed? How could it have not?

I confess that my overwhelming feeling upon realizing that it had been a year since graduation was a sense of disappointment. Shouldn't I have accomplished more a year out of college? I can't say "I just graduated in May" anymore, so shouldn't I have done more? Shouldn't I have made a bunch of friends with people where I live? Shouldn't I have completed things? Shouldn't I miss Gettysburg less? But here I am, living at home, mostly hanging out with my family when I'm not working. I don't have a high powered, exciting job where I am changing the world and/or making lots of money. I haven't fallen in love and I am not substantially closer to being a clinical psychologist or a mom.

And that thinking is so easy to fall into, because I have been trained so well. Make goals. Execute them. Do at least as well as your peers, preferably better. Do great work. I loved the Gettysburg atmosphere, and I thrived in that performance driven, high octane setting (if you consider the level of stress I could sustain for weeks at a time thriving). But the dark side of that is that I can instinctinvely think critically without acting compassionately. My mind twists the truth and throws in some half-truths and little lies until I look at the last year and feel like I have failed.

That is probably stupid and definitely inaccurate. My plan was to move home, find a research position to get the experience I need to get into grad school, and pay off student loans as quickly as possible. I did, in fact, find a research position that I can commute to from home... thanks, God! And its not high powered or a high salary, but someone is paying me to do research, which is exactly what I was looking for. I am paying off my student loans while admittedly mooching some groceries, wifi, and below market rent from my mother. But since I am rather fond of my mother, this is kind of a win-win situation. And why should I feel lame about having out with my family? I love them, and I won't always get to spend time with them like this. My baby cousins (read: every cousin who is younger than me, even if they are 6'2'') will grow up and move away one day. When I go to grad school, I will not be able to take my Mam-maw shopping on Sunday afternoons, and will she be around to take shopping when I am finished grad school? Speaking of school, if I were to hypothetically be either a clinical psychologist or a mom before I finished grad school, that would be absolutely terrifying (in the first scenario) or mildly terrifying and poor planning (in the second scenario). Seeing patients before getting the education/licensing to practice or having a baby while attaining said licensing are so not high on my list of things to do, and thus if I were substantially closer to these things one year out of college, it might actually not be a great sign.

Melissa and this kitten were both at
Focus this year... don't you wish you
were there, too? I know I do.

And yes, I do miss Gettysburg. I wish that I still had shenanigans every Wednesday at 10, that I still lived with 5 of my best friends, and that anytime I wanted to hang out with someone we could just get a meal together because we ate at all the same places. I wish that I had just gotten home from Focus, and that I was energized and sleep deprived and so excited about being on mission with the church. I wish the friends I have here (because I do have some, my heart just believes lies sometimes) knew me as deeply, encouraged and challenged me as frequently, and pointed me to Christ as well as my friends from Gettysburg. But this is what its like to have good friends. You miss them when you haven't seen them for a day, and you miss them when you haven't seen them for months and months. It takes a long time to build new friendships that are as strong.

I think it is okay to miss college, even though it makes me feel a bit like I am doing something wrong. I don't want college to be the best years of my life. But it would be okay if college accounted for some of the best years of my life. I think that is the tension I am feeling as I compare this first year out of college to the four years that came before. Its true that this past year was hard in different ways than before and that it was lacking some things that my heart tells me it wants again in future years. But it was another year of life, and I enjoy having those :) It was filled with blessings and things to be thankful for, and it was not a waste of time.

So here are a few highlights from my first year as a post-bacc:
-Seven of my friends got married, and every wedding was a delight. I loved each individual wedding ceremony, and getting to share in their joy, and also all those built-in reunions.
-For months I got as much sleep as my body actually needed (talk about seasons of life... this one is definitely fleeting). It was glorious. And now I might get up earlier every morning than I have in my life, but at least I don't do homework till at least midnight every night.
-I got a job offer totally out of the blue months after I had submitted an application and pursued other institutes and researchers with no success. Yep, it was totally not my fault that I got this job.

"I am not afraid.
I was born to do this."
-Jeanne d'Arc

-I found a church that I absolutely love. I get to live in a place with a bible-preaching church that loves to worship God with a gospel-centered community who want to grow and become more like Jesus? Is this real life?
-When my brain isn't consumed with exams, papers, and research reports, there is room for creativity to come out and play. I've been playing the piano again and making artwork and creating things. And none of them are masterpieces (although I am quite proud of the sweater and the quilt), but it feels good to create just because I can.
-God has used this time to soften my heart to the idea of adoption, to help me see the value of intervention at every stage for every person, and to understand how attachment (you know, that field of psychology I would be happy spending my whole life in) relates to God's character and redemptive plan. It was so good (and wise, probably) of him to do this when I am exactly where I am now. If He had done this later in life when I wasn't young, broke, and single, I probably would have freaked out about life and thought that He was telling me to do something I didn't want to do. Instead I see little hints of changing desires and and awareness of how much more growing I have to do. And how much more I need Jesus than I realized.
-I've been growing. Slowly. Sometimes it feels agonizingly slow, and I am not content with the pace. But the lessons I am being taught seem to take a lot of time. Perhaps it is the nature of these lessons, perhaps I'm a slow learner. But God is at work in my life, and I am grateful for it.

Springtime And The Feels

There are people in my life who I would describe as “intense feelers.” While my typical feelings range on a scale between 30 to 70 (assuming that 0 is the most negative and 100 is the most positive you can feel), they tend to live much of life in the 0-30 and 70-100 zones where I only venture on occasion. And while I love these people, I struggle to connect with them sometimes because I don’t understand them[i]. I believe it’s difficult for me to empathize with them because it’s not only my reactions to a situation that are different, but my overall experience of the situation.

Don’t get me wrong. I am a feeler. At least, according to the Myers-Briggs, (which I have decidedly mixed feelings about that I won’t rant about expound upon right now[ii]) I fall substantially on the feeling side. I have to assume, though, that the thinking and feeling parts of my brain get along decently well, because I seem to do both of them concurrently most of the time. So in circumstances that cause elation or great distress in my intensely feeling friends, I can’t always relate to how they got there emotionally. If I was in their situation and started feeling that way, the rational side of my brain would give me a good mental shake and say, “You are being unreasonable. Stop now.”

"I just want to looooove you..."

It would obviously not be loving to actually say that to people when they are experiencing the strongest of feels. Even in cases where I may need to gently rebuke a friend for how they are responding to a situation, I don’t think an emotional response is the same as a behavioral response. What you do with the fear, anger, elation, etc is what is right or wrong, not how strongly you feel those emotions. (I am reminded of Psalm 4:4, where it says, “In your anger, do not sin.”) So I am right back where I started: my friends who are more emotional than I am are not doing anything wrong—the same goes for people who are less emotional that I am—but I have difficulty relating and caring for them sometimes because life affects me differently.

I don’t have the answers for how to care for them better, so if you were looking for some insight there, sorry to disappoint. I'm guessing that growing in love and humility would help, and if you have any practical tips, be sure to let me know. However, I feel as if the advent of springtime has given me an opportunity to empathize in a new way with all the intense feelers out there.

Spring is finally here. And it may not come as a surprise, but I am unreasonably happy about it. It seems perfectly reasonable to be happy after the long winter we have had, but maybe not quite as happy as I am. I am happy basically anytime I go outside, look out the window, feel warm, or see any plant anywhere. Combined, that is a large chunk of the day. And we're talking unusually happy... like, when a smile breaks out, unbidden, across your face so wide that all your teeth are showing because the weeds in the field are blooming and the yellow flowers scattered through the green just make you happy. That has been happening pretty much every day for a month and a half. I'm happy when it's pouring down rain. I'm even happy in the midst of the worst seasonal allergies I've ever experienced (there's some irony mixed in there there somewhere...).

The rational part of me wants to get all introspective over this discrepancy between valence of emotional response and emotional stimulus, but most of me says, "It's spring, just go with it. Be happy." I can't explain why I feel this strongly and I don't care. Is this what it feels like?!?! Even if its totally not and I still can't empathize with all you intense feelers, I still love you. And the springtime.

---

[i] Speaking of not understanding things, this cat doesn't understand the rules of ping pong, which is just relevant enough to link you to this adorable video. 

[ii] Unless you want to Myers-Briggs type your cats, which I should theoretically have the same qualms with but mysteriously don’t.

Random Rainy Day Thoughts

I walked out of my building this afternoon cautiously, not looking forward to the walk across campus to get to my car. Somehow, I was not particularly smart this morning, and I didn’t wear my rainboots because “I didn’t wear them yesterday when it rained all day, so why should I today? I will be inside most of the time, anyway.” This was unintelligent because (a) I love my rainboots and typically view rain as an excuse to incorporate them into my outfit and (b) as soon as I got to campus today, it poured down rain, and I had to park far from my building and then walk through the wind, getting soaked from the knee down and disgruntled pretty much all over.

So when I ventured out in the afternoon to find that there was a short respite from the rain, a thought popped unbidden into my head, “Aw, you love me, God. Thank you!” At that point, my thought process was pretty much as follows:

Why was my automatic response that God loved me because it wasn’t raining? The rain or lack of it didn’t have any bearing on whether God loves me. I am not a “Your Best Life Now!” believer who expects special blessing and continued prosperity because I am a follower of Christ. I’m more of a John 16:33, Luke 9:23 kind of girl (because, you know, Jesus actually said those things). God isn't some favor/karma genie who gives me green traffic lights when he is pleased with me or helps me pick the fastest checkout line at the grocery store when I pray with proper faith. I don't want to let my heart think God's love changes based on my daily circumstances, nor that I should expect life to be awesome simply because I am a beloved daughter of God.

Another nice gift/way
to have toasty warm toes...

But then I thought about the spirit of my (mental) exclamation. I was thankful because I felt like I had been given a gift. I had no reason to expect that I would get to stay dry as I hiked to my car, but I did. It made me happy, and I attributed this good gift to God. And good gifts make you feel loved! (I know, my logic is so advanced it's shocking) I felt loved this winter on nights when I went to bed and discovered that my wonderful housemate (aka mom) had turned on my electric heater so my bed was warm. I didn't think her love for me was at all related to whether my bed was toasty warm or freezing cold, I just felt loved to get an unexpected gift. And I didn't feel unloved when it rained on my way in to work that morning. Not unloved, just wet. So it's not that ups and downs affect how I view God's love... I am just starting to instinctively attribute good gifts I get to Him.

So apparently my thankfulness-focused Lenten devotional worked? But that's a tale for another time. Meanwhile, I was dry for a large part of the day... even though I forgot my rainboots. Thanks, God!

"Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name. For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations." -Psalm 100:4-5  

Tales From The Other Side

In a shocking (cue sarcastic voice) and very unexpected turn of events in the tale of my heart being an idol factory, it turns out that even though I now have a job, I am still a sinner. On the bright side, I am now both a sinner and a gainfully employed person, so I feel like it is a net improvement.

So first things first… long awaited positive news from the job-hunting adventure! I was offered a fellowship position in January at the National Institute of Nursing Research. And I accepted it… but paperwork happens slowly here, so I didn’t start until March. I’m working at the National Institutes of Health main campus in Bethesda, where I am doing genomics and epigenetics(!!) research for studies of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, mild Traumatic Brain Injury, and Phantom Limb Pain (mostly) . So the physical work I am doing is straight genetics, but the big picture is psychology (I get the feeling that the NINR researches whatever it feels like, which is convenient for me because… genomic psychology?!?! I’m sure it is related to nursing. Somehow. And I love it.) The PTSD and Phantom Limb studies are both in populations of Iraq and Afghanistan war veterans, and I think the only way I could possibly be more excited about the PTSD study would be if they would let me walk across the street to Walter Reed Army Medical Center and help with the clinical phenotyping. The mTBI study is in a population of student athletes, and although I haven’t figured out how you get a concussion playing basketball (trip and hit your head? Hit another player with your head? Hit the backboard with your head? So confusing compared to the logical football/soccer/hockey concussions), the rest of the study is straightforward, as far as epigenetics goes, and should be interesting like the other two projects.

Proverb holding the fort.
If the fort was a bag.

I say “should be interesting” because I haven’t really done much yet. Thankfully it took me less than two weeks to take the safety courses I needed to take (again) in order to work in a lab with potential blood borne pathogens. Then I held the fort while my boss was out all of last week. (You do not hold down the fort. The fort is not inflatable. In this particular case, the fort is a lab with a -80°^C freezer that I am organizing within an inch of its life.) So while I told myself that I would just ‘wait until I start my new job’ to blog about it, and then told myself I would just ‘wait until I actually start working on something,’ time trickled away. Sorry, team. I am still learning that exciting is relative, and writing about real life is not going to flow like a good book.

Instead, life seems to be flowing, slowly, in circles. Like I mentioned at the beginning, it turns out that even though I now have the thing that I wanted,  didn’t have, and spent considerable energy pursuing for the past ten months, getting a job did not resolve all the struggles I had before I had a job. In fact, it was an almost laughable moment when I realized-on the day I accepted my job offer-that I had been subconsciously building up a job in my heart as the solution to all my problems and was disappointed to learn that the real thing did not live up to expectations. I did not really have more control over my life than I did before; I did not have the security that I desperately wanted. My new job was not a guarantee that I would get into the grad school of my dreams, there was no way to know for sure that working at NIH would make me happy, and this job would not secure the rest of my career and assure my success. And now that I am working, what do I struggle with on a daily basis? Yep, it's the same old stuff. Turns out I am not magically better at being content, resting in my identity in Christ, etc. now that I have a job. 

Basically, I still have to trust God’s control in my life for security. I still have to look to him rather than choosing to worry about my future. I still have to seek him for real contentment. But I also get to extract DNA while I do those things. Life is good :)

P.S. Here are some other struggles that aren't fixed by a job. I don't really mind most of them, though...

The Strength Of Men

I love that God made men. I also love that I am not one. Sometimes, I think it is easier to appreciate something from the outside, easier to recognize something that is different.

This week, I saw the movie Lone Survivor. It was excellent... difficult to watch[i], but I still loved it. For those of you who haven't seen it, I won't explain the entire plot, but will simply say that it is based on a true story of SEAL team 10 serving in Afghanistan in 2005, and that the title speaks for itself. Watching the movie was painful and involved a lot of wincing and mentally trying to keep myself together, but it also moved me deeply. And it kept me awake that night thinking.

There was a point in the movie, during which the team was literally tumbling down a mountain and I was feeling ALL the conflicting emotions, when I thought to myself, "There is something about men that I love." At the moment, I couldn't put that 'something' into words (because, really, too many feels at once), but as I thought about it later, the word that came to mind was "strength." It wasn't just the physical strength that the men displayed, but the strength of mind and character as they lived and died during their last day on this earth with courage and honor.

As I watched them, they seemed very... other. Very different from me. I could not have done what they did, and it made me appreciate that they could. And yes, I know that I have not been trained to be a Navy SEAL. But the difference seemed deeper, more qualitative. I too, have been made for war, but not for that part of war. My heart yearns to fight, but it is a fight to rebuild, to restore, to redeem, and to rescue. I want to be on the front lines of battle, but it is a different part of the battle, and fighting looks different where I want to be.

And so, as I lay awake and reflected on their fight, I rejoiced that God has equipped and prepared men to fight in some wars that I am not called to. I rejoiced that he has given them the strength they need for their battles, which frees me and inspires me to use the strength he gives me for my own battles. The strength of those men I have never met inspire me, but they are not the only ones who do so. I am inspired by men of strength who wage a Relentless Fight against pervasive sin and equip others to fight with them. I am inspired by men of courage who fight to be a father to the fatherless. I am inspired by men of honor who take a stand against sexual violence.

Although my heart is moved by the strength of all these men, they only dimly reflect the strength of one man. A man who, though innocent, was beaten until he was marred beyond human likeness. After this beating, which had killed others before him, he hauled a slab of wood on his bleeding back up a hill so that he could be nailed to it. And although he could have called down legions of warriors to help him, he allowed himself to be crucified while bearing the weight of every sin ever committed and experiencing a soul crushing separation from the person he loved most. The strength of other men inspires me, but it is the strength of this man, Jesus Christ, that empowers me.

P.S. It was an intense movie. Cats just didn't quite fit. But of course there are some pretty cool cats serving on the front lines, too. So enjoy some wartime cats.

P.P.S. In case that wasn't enough cats for you, there are also cats in the Middle East who deserve some love.

---

[i] Side note for gents who want to care for the ladies in their lives... war movies like this usually leave us with deep feelings, and we have some hefty emotional processing to do even though the movie is over. As such, although watching a war movie might make you want to immediately play Call of Duty, doing that will make us want to cry. We sort of want to cry already, so its helpful if you just give us some processing time to pull ourselves together. (And this might not be true of all ladies, but its true for me and the girlfriends I've discussed this with.)

The View From Seven Months

I have been, admittedly, rather sparse with the life details. Part of that was that there was nothing exciting to tell. Part of that was that there was too much to tell. Although I am a sharer, I like to develop some trust before I spill my guts, and there is no way to do that with the entire interwebs. So rather than a blow-by-blow of life, which would be aptly titled “Four Weddings and A Funeral,” I will give you a current update:

What does seven months out of school look like?

1. It looks like paying student loans. Those pesky things come due six months out of school, and by the grace of God, I can pay mine. This is seriously worth being happy about, and I look forward to owing a little less money each month when I successfully make a payment.

2. It looks like working part time jobs to pay said loans. I am working at a wedding venue, which has prepared me fairly well for this recent wedding season (my friends are odd and mostly got married in the winter instead of the summer). I have been working at Bath & Body Works for the holidays, and something about good-smelling things being perfectly arranged in rows makes it a rather enjoyable place to work. I also have been working for a medical billing company dealing with insurance companies. This has been instructional, and also cemented the fact that I never want to work for an insurance company.

Earlier in life, I wanted to be a cat farmer
...but seriously.

3. It looks like endless (and perseverant! I am an optimist!) job searches. I have a few leads in this area that I am really hoping to hear back from in the next few weeks. Hopefully, someone in the near future will pay me to do science! I’m keeping the dream alive. When things are not going according to plan, it is a good opportunity to re-examine your calling and decide if you’re sure that’s where you are being called. If I didn’t feel led to pursue this whole PhD clinical psych thing, it would be stupid of me not to do something more reasonable. But, after some thought, I am still being called to unreasonableness :)

4. It looks like slow and sometimes faltering efforts to settle here and make friends. I have found it difficult to commit to—and succeed at—the effort of making post-grad friends, but I am not the only one. From friends with set timelines (“My grad program is half over and I’m only here for a year total”) to others who really want to make new friends but find the process slow compared to making friends in college, it seems to be a struggle shared by most of my friends who graduated with me or the year before. Its hard to get lunch with people when you both work different jobs, its hard to get together regularly when you live twenty minutes apart by car instead of three minutes on foot, and its hard to be new in town without an incoming class of people who are in the same boat.  But I did have coffee (figuratively speaking) with a girl this week, and it was delightful to have life chats. Yes, I had life chats this week with someone that I met since graduation. It was magical.

I’m not necessarily telling you to prepare for these things if you will be graduating in 2014, nor do I expect the graduated among you to have had the exact same experience as I am having (although if you are, you and I should definitely have life chats sometime). This is just where I am right now. Sometimes I am content, other times I am not. Sometimes I am happy, other times I am not. Sometimes I am busy, other times I wear my ugly sweater all day and no one is around to judge me. Sometimes I snuggle with cats, other times my cats refuse to snuggle. I am trying to “give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

(This was a snuggle time)

P.S. Also, after reading this blog written by a pretty wise man I know, I decided to read the bible as fast as I can starting January 1^st. I have never read straight through from Genesis to Revelation in order before,  so this should be an adventure. Thus, technically, seven months out of school also looks like Genesis… but hopefully Exodus soon. I’ll let you know.

P.P.S. For those of you who also feel like your attempts to accomplish something are like this little lizard hunter's, here are some cats who didn't make it through 2013 quite the way they planned...