three months.

tomorrow will [officially] mark the third month of my life in birmingham.  and...i think i've learned a lot.  you see, i think we always learn the same lessons.  what i'm learning today is something i had to learn four years ago, in a different way, and then six years ago, in yet a different way, and i'll probably have to learn and learn again...but God is patient, and good.  so from me to you, a little practical advice on life and love and laughter.

-it all comes down to God's word: He declares Himself forever faithful [exodus 34:6-7] and shows, over and over again in history, that He is in control of everything.  so while i can worry about money issues and life issues and school issues, in the end--He's faithful and it's all in His hands, and to worry and mistrust that is to mistrust Him and His perfect promises.

-my plans, my dreams...well, they shouldn't be mine. and i can let them go...because [again] He is faithful.

-along with that, everything doesn't have to be perfect or fall into place all at once.  these last three months have been beautiful in a chaotic, frustrating, meaningful, complex, and simple kind of way all at once.

so, just in case there aren't enough words for these last months, here are some pictures:

three months and i'm still standing here

three months and i'm getting better, yeah

three months and i still am

three months and it's still harder now

three months i've been living here without you now

three months, yeah, three months

three months and i'm still breathing

three months and i still remember it

three months and i wake up

three months and i'm still sober

picked all my weeds but kept the flowers

                               ~kelly clarkson

this is your life...

[actually...it's not.]

so here's the thing.  my plans, my dreams, my expectations, my hopes, my fears, my...whatever, for my life...well, it's just not my life.  so here it is, all of it.  it's not mine anymore. pry it out of my hands.  wipe away my mind. do something great.  do something i'm not expecting. but just keep reminding me that what i hold so closely to...was never mine to begin with.

[mark 8:35]

honestly,

i hate complication.  i hate awkward situations. i know that, as a female, i'm supposed to thrive on drama, but really...i don't. sometimes i try to make light of awkward situations--even by myself being awkward--to get rid of the tension.  the truth is that i like clarity.  it's probably why i'm the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve.  you never have to wonder what i'm thinking--you can always see it clearly on my face. clarity. i used to hate that about myself, but now...i find that it's a pretty desirable trait.

so here's the thing. i wish things weren't unclear. i wish people wore their intentions across their face. while the honesty might be frustrating, at least...it would be clear.

i wonder how many times i've used the word clear so far in this blog? hmm...just four.

but, i guess i've come to realize that complication is a part of life. and life isn't always clear, either.  it's okay to not understand. it's okay to not have all the answers. and, it's okay to wish the people who had the answers would just give them to you.

here's what i think about complication: it makes us appreciate what's clear. and when we're trying to discern in the midst of complication, we can hold onto what we know--about others, and about ourselves, and trust in that.

and in the mean time, we can enjoy life and laugh a lot, and ride with the windows down, and dance around our kitchen to "a girl named tennessee" and take in every moment, even the complicated ones.

because i believe eventually, things will become clear, and i will see fully [1st corinthians 13:12].

all that i'm after is a life full of laughter
as long as i'm laughing with you


i really like the new daughtry song.  sometimes i feel like i'm ten miles from town and just broke down too...emotionally, anyway. i wish it was easier sometimes.  the transition, i mean.

i've been living in alabama for over two months.  each day is its own day.  i'm struggling so much with letting go.  of my feelings. of my fears. of what i thought the future would be.  of my own dreams.  i'm afraid i'll focus so much on what i've left behind that i won't be able to see what i've gained here.  and i think i'm probably talking in circles through all of this.

the problem with me--and maybe with people in general--is that we want everything to work out now and be perfect now, on our terms. instant gratification.  that's not the way life is. that's not the way friendships are. relationships don't function in this manner, and that's not the way love works. it's a process. it's slow. it's worth it (or at least, that's what i'm telling myself).

my city.

it's the capital and largest city in its state.

19% live below the poverty level.

it has a city population alone of over 600,000.

it has the fourth largest population density in the united states.

one out of every four children live below the poverty line.

augustana sings a song about it.

it is the home of our nation's history.

these may be relevant, and interesting, and helpful facts about boston.  yet when i picture my city, i see much more than the numbers. i see the homeless in the T stations.  i see the asian woman who sells wilted flowers and speaks little english near porter square.  i hear the voice of a woman who spends nearly an hour talking to lindsey outside of a hospital, about the Lord and her faith and her sickness.  i feel the hands of the person i pray with near boston university, who is a student and actively involved in campus ministry.  i remember seeing internationals gather at the church, to eat and pray and talk and live life together.  i can still feel the cold rain on my face as i lugged my bags down the street after leaving the airport, and thought about those who lived life like this all the time.  my feet hurt from the prayer walking, and my heart hurts from the faces of those i pass.  i feel the heavy bag of granola bars, refused by people because they believe those with religion also have agendas...what a disservice we have done to our fellow man.

i would have never imagined that a place which is so cold and holds such pain is a place i dream of each day. the city that warms my heart, in the darkest times. boston, i hope we meet again.

there's gotta be [something more].

it's fall in the big ham. and i love it.  i haven't experienced--like over more than a week experienced--fall in four years, so this is a welcomed season change.  it did get back to ninety this week, but if i can look at pretty leaves, it makes it easier to pretend that it's sixty, especially in the AC.  this week is supposed to be more seasonal.  leaves change and the air becomes more crisp.  there's a wind blowing across your face. it's fall. and it's feeling more like i'm home, and i haven't felt like that in a long time.

i'm finding the comfort moments are coming more, and the pains come less.  they do come.  today, when i saw williams brice, i was sad for a moment.  there's nothing like cheering with 80,000 fans for your gamecocks, especially in a city where everything is crimson.   tuesdays don't feel as hollow anymore.  i'm not as envious when i have to reply "not attending" to a bcm facebook event.  it's getting easier, and fitting.  i'm okay with that.

i do miss writing.  i miss it a lot. i write a lot of academic stuff, and i blog...but i don't really write.  no stories.  no poems.  nothing really creative.  it makes me miss writing classes and being able to really invest in something i loved.  i love what i'm doing...but i miss the beauty of words.

but...baby splawn will be here in february! yay!