"Grow Up"

Open arms, or hold on tight,

There's never been a better time to be alive,

Look to the stars, second one to the right,

There's got to be some place where dreamers can thrive,

I've never been to Neverland,

But I've always liked fairy tales,

And here we are in this land,

Without pixy dust and magic spells,

"We'll never grow up!"

Those Lost Boys scream and shout.

"We'll never grow up,"

Who needs life's clout?

High heels and stripped ties,

Wedding rings and baby's cries,

We work so hard, we give so many tries,

We love so hard, then somebody dies,

Though I'd like to see a Mermaid's tail,

To fight Hook amidst the seas stormy swell,

I'm convinced this life has more to tell,

I'd like to try, even if I fail,

You see, Peter, he ran away,

It must be lonely, not growing up,

At times it's tempting, but I'd rather stay,

For this life has more than enough to fill my cup,

Maybe I can fly, but in a different way,

And find life's joy, despite life's pain,

I'll keep my imagination, no matter what they say,

And I'll grow up -- to loose, but to gain.

Have you ever looked at yourself and thought, "boy, I'm ugly."  I don't mean the reaction that one may formulate upon looking in the mirror after a night's sleep or a messy cry, I mean -- ugly inside.

I know we are all made in the image of God, for His glory; as a result, I am confident that I am not a waste, but rather, redeemed in Christ.  Regardless, my sin is so ugly.  I find myself being selfish, judgmental, immature, prideful, and jealous.  And the worst part is, though I can change and improve, my sin is a perpetual part of my humanity.  Where is the hope then?  Where can one find hope when they know they are doomed to sin?

We can only find it in Christ.  To be a believer is to be redeemed.  We sin, yet the Lord gives us grace.  It's simple, but it's remarkable.  

What do we do then when we sin toward others?  When we perpetually reflect our fallen nature onto our relationships.  How can we ever grow with people, be loved and desired, when we are so messy and, at times, ugly?  Who really wants to be with a selfish, judgmental, immature, prideful, and jealous person?

I don't know.

Maybe the best answer I can give is a quote from Les Mis: 

"The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves--say rather, loved in spite of ourselves (167)."

Lately I have had an abundance of emotion.  I am completely and utterly overwhelmed.  This is not where I saw myself after graduating, but in so many ways my life is far better than I could have ever anticipated.  True, it's exciting, but some aspects are not exciting.  I have to remember, amidst it all, God is faithful.

This past week has been a flood of job opportunities.  After three months of nothing more than part-time work, the gush of work has had a tumultuous effect.  I want to work -- really want to work -- but landing a job fresh out of college takes time; have I ever learned that.  I'm beginning to realize that even though you think you're done after college there are so many other big choices ahead.  With jobs come the potential of moving.  Moving is not half bad, especially when it's inevitable with a running-out lease, but leaving people is the worst.

I listen to "Moon River" a lot lately.  I don't know the exact story behind it, but I've heard people tell me a synopsis of what their google research has informed them it is.  But I block that out.  To me "Moon River" is written about two people looking for what's good and right in life -- what's good and right to them -- their dreams.  Hoping to sail the "Moon River" that dreams are caught on.  It's about two people -- huckleberry friends -- both of them drifters, wanting to go everywhere in hopes their adventures will bring them somewhere.  They want to see the world, to experience life, but maybe what they really want is that "rainbow's end."  Maybe what they really want is what we're all looking for: someone who can not just be our companion, but a true friend that can be a home.  Home being something you have to find yourself once you've grow up ...

There's something about this song that comforts me.  Sometimes, when listening to it, I feel very Audrey in the rain.

My 25 Things (as noted on Facebook)

1.) I absolutely love dead dandelions. Every time I see one I have to make a wish. This ritual dates back to the toddler years. Although they are arguably a weed, to me, they are the best of all flowers.

2.) There are certain things that will, inevitably, always make me laugh. Y2K is one of them. I find it hilarious how it was such a hype and then ... nothing.

3.) I have a folder with a hideous rocket-ship that a kid that I have no recollection of except that his name was Jeremy gave to me in the third grade. Though it has spent the majority of its life hidden under my bed, this folder contains little stories and poems that I considered my most sacred and top secret possessions for the majority of my childhood and adolescent years. 

4.) I cannot, will not, eat cooked carrots. True it sounds trivial, but they honestly make me gag. My dad offered me 10 dollars to eat one once. Honestly, I tried.

5.) I have a secret talent of spouting off random first and last names at lightening speed. This is compliments of my grandma who taught me a game called "Rolly Polley." In this game you bounce a ball in a chalk diagram of spaces, with each bounce you list something in the previously declared category. I had a knack for the name category.

6.) I find the line "Let me be your freedom" in "All I Ask Of You" from "Phantom of The Opera" haunting. 

7.) I am convinced I would have been kindred spirits with the Bronte sisters, particularly Charlotte.

8.) The first thing I ever baked by myself was an apple pie. I forgot the flour. The first thing I ever cooked solo was a delicious dish I created for Mother's Day. The entree consisted of room temperature berry yogurt with chunks of butter tossed in.

9.) Disregarding talent, If I could be anything -- my unrealistic pipe dream if you will -- is to be a fantastic singer. I'm talking Sarah Brighton, topnotch musical caliber. 

10.) Often times when I'm talking to people I punctuate in my head.

11.) I have the biggest crush on George Bailey from "It's A Wonderful Life" ... maybe it's just Jimmy Stewart in general. One of my favorite movie scenes is when he tells Mary he doesn't love her than they kiss. Turns out he does love her. Gets me every time.

12.) I think a lot; so much so that I have been told on multiple occasions that I think more than anyone the particular person who is telling me has ever known. I have also been told I am the most romantic person. I don't know if I agree, but I've learned to embrace it.

13.) Someday I really want to own a used bookstore, then I can sit on the top floor and write. The store will have lots of nooks, a staircase, window seat, a children's story hour, epic book quotes on small portions of the walls, and lots of dust. I also want to live in a house with a garden and a creaky wooden gate (kind of like Miss Honey's house in Matilda).

14.) Scotland and The Lake District are the two most beautiful places I have ever been. They are possibly the first two places that could not have been improved by imagination.

15.) I love thinking about femininity; especially the idea of feminine inner/outer beauty going right or terribly wrong. I am particularly fascinated with Eve and Helen of Troy.

16.) Growing up a hobby was sewing pillows. Yes Pillows. I would give them to teachers, treasured friends, and family members. Though I've grown out of this, the skills still dwell within.

17.) My favorite book of the Bible is Revelations. I also love the beginning of Genesis. I am pretty fascinated with where we came from and where we're going. Though I suppose the Gospel is the most pivotal point in there.

18.) I will go to ridiculous lengths to visit a new state, even if it's just driving in for five minutes (airports don't count). This method was done with both Mississippi and Arkansas. My goal is to see everything worth seeing, read everything worth reading, experience everything worth experiencing, before I run out of time. I know I'm only 21, but I tend to get very excited about life and very anxious to soak it all in.

19.) Growing up I idolized Liesel in "The Sound of Music." I thought 16 going on 17 was so wonderfully mature.

20.) When I get nervous I excessively apply Chapstick. 

21.) Here is goes: Disneyland, though fun, is just ok. I'm sorry, there's no "magic."

22.) Animal movies are usually the only movies that really make me cry. I get all chocked up every time I watch an animal family drama. It's embarrassing. I think it first began when I made a tearful scene at a showing of Lassie when I was about six. For this reason I try to avoid these movies, and refuse to watch "Old Yeller."

23.) I am extremely self competitive. Some may argue competitive. I'll admit, I do get pretty into board games ... 

24.) I don't really like TV. Unless it's shows on DVD. 

25.) The longest I've gone without showering is a week. I was backpacking. I don't know if that makes it more or less disgusting. 

I have a lot of big things to blog about, but I'm going to wait a couple days, as I know it will all make more sense then.  Instead I'm going to talk about something frivolous (well not really): Spring.  For my list lovers: "What I Love About Spring":

1.) Mowing the lawn again, and the absolutely wonderful way it smells afterward.

2.) Yes, you allergy haters may disapprove, but ... the blossoms that float on the breeze.

3.) For those who are not in Southern California culture, the first wearing of skirts and dresses without tights.

4.) Spring colors!

5.) Though I'm a firm believer that any time of the year is appropriate to become "twitterpaited," it's a pretty defining pastime of the Spring.

6.) The anticipation of summer. ;)

7.) The sun is out longer, which means more time to play after work.

8.) Green!  Oh, how I LOVE when nature turns green!

9.) Easter 

10.) Spring break (RIP Spring break)

11.) Flowers.

12.) Birth (cows, chicken's, pigs; it's all very "Charlotte's Web).

Hmmm .... all of this Spring talk makes me want to watch "Planet Earth."

I have been as mad as a hornet (always loved this expression) for a fews days now.  My foot, the one that broke just over a year ago, has decided to act up out of virtually nowhere.  I am running considerably less than the fall, albeit still running, and do not consider my days remotely arduous, yet still -- constant pain.  

This may all seem very trivial, even unimportant, but I absolutely love being active.  It boasts my mood, not to mention gives me valuable time to exercise and think.  I constantly thank God for exercise, but with a lame foot, especially after round two, I'm feeling discouraged.  

I don't want to visit the doctor because I know it isn't broken (believe me, that would be very obvious).  But at the same time, something is not right.  I'm kind of at the point, where I'm like: heal or break, preferably NOT the latter.

Oh, there are far worse things, I know.  Besides, no one likes being around a Hornet.

There are few things in life that scare me more than trust.  It's not because I have a 100% do-it myself mentality; It doesn't even root in control; it's just trusting can turn out so very painful.

The analogy of trust that always pops into my head is that somewhat trite game that's played at summer camps and team building retreats where one person turns their back to another person, then continues by falling on them.  The idea is that the person falling, simply does just that, and the person catching, simply does their job.  It's basic.  The rest of the group usually cheers or nods approvingly (depending on the energy level of the group) and in some roundabout way this proves trust.

Now, I'll be honest with you, there's at least 100 people I'd fall on, but to me, that is not trust.  Trust is more than a single action, it's a lifestyle that exhibits consistent faith in something.  To trust God is not to know the outcome therefore agree with God, it's not to say it, or do it once, or even twice; it's a way of living that constantly chooses to walk out in faith and hope, trusting God will not forsake you and will teach you what is best.  Trust is vital to religion.

Unfortunately, trust, is also vital to relationships (not to the same degree as religion, however).  I say unfortunately, because in friendships and intimacy you are no longer putting trust into a perfect, benevolent creator, but rather a broken, confused individual.  That's when it becomes tricky; that's when it can hurt.  

There has to be a middle ground, a safe place of trust, or maybe it's something developed and proved over time, regardless, it's so hard.  Still, if you place all your trust in God, then even if you loose the trust of an individual, you will ultimately be just as fulfilled.  But just like falling on the individual in the "youth group trust game," you can't treat it as a gamble or an eventual failure, or else you aren't going to be able to successfully fall.

I remember one time in high school I (with a group of friends) repelled off a bridge.  It was a class, so we were all looking out for each other, and one of the head guys was the one at the top encouraging me.  With embarrassingly shaky hands, and admittedly not the strongest of legs, I slowly made my way down the cement portion of the bridge.  Honestly, I was so nervous I was dizzy.  Once I made it to the part where I had to let go of the cement bridge, flip upside down, then re-level out, completing the last three-fourths of the bridge by lowering myself through the rope in mid air, I became terrified.  I did not, could not, let my now almost dancing (from shaking so hard) feet leave the cement safety.  It was all happening so fast, and I couldn't exactly predict what was going to happen next; most of me believed I'd flip upside down at lightening speed and bang into the bridge, suffering a concussion.  Then I remember the guy at the top, he made complete eye contact with me, and kept a calm steady voice, telling me exactly what to do and that I could do it.  Somehow, amidst my minor hysteria, I believed him.  I saw that finishing my decent off the bridge was the wisest thing that I could do, and that competent or not, I was going to have to brave it.  So I did, and it really wasn't so bad.

Maybe, eventually, I have to let go of the cement. 

I often wonder, when I look back on this time in my life what am I going to think.  Most likely there will be thoughts of I should have worried less and enjoyed things more, but who knows what other insights will strike me.

Often times I look back on a few years ago, the days when I just began college.  The concept in many respects seems lighthearted and easy: four years of planned higher education, plenty of friends my age, and the endless college joys such as eating a huge burrito or running five miles at midnight (ok, random).  I'll be honest though, it really wasn't the easiest time.  There were many days when I felt homesick and lonely and wasn't even really aware of it myself, there were papers that seemed pointless to write, embarrassing moments that were relentless not to vanish, and many weekends spent car-less and stranded at school.  But there was joy from the difficulty.  The homesickness taught me to reach out and make life lasting friends, the awful papers developed in me perseverance, the embarrassing moments showed me that I shouldn't take myself so seriously, and the car-less weekends made for some of the most memorable moments I had in college (climbing the fountain, taking hordes of butter from "Common Grounds," making up weird dances in the dorm room, ironing at 2 a.m. ....)

Looking back on those years I don't have a spirit of "man, I wish I would have done things differently," even though I am fully aware there were many improvements that could have been made.  Still, I see in the hard times so much growth and good that came through; there were memories created that were so special and unique to that time in my life.  Maybe, hopefully, it's like that now.  I'll look back, ever so tenderly remembering the struggles, but rather than harboring a spirit of dissatisfaction, smiling at the joy and experiences that were borne from such a time.

They say hindsight is 20/20, and I'll admit -- it's true.  I can look back and immediately pick out a list of at least twenty things I could have improved on to make that time in my life meet my idea of "more enjoyable," but really, the memories are good the way they are.  It's funny how in our struggles or amidst the standard trials of life we fail to see the direct correlation of uniqueness, joy, and wisdom that often times comes with them.  Life can be hard, and we don't easily forget that, but there's so much good, and those memories have a way of always being remembered.

GRE

Oh boy, every time I hear that phrase my stomach lurches and my mind brings me back to my two day seminar entitled "Taming The SAT," as well as two endless mornings in an under-heated classroom attempting to take the SAT.  If you haven't already guessed, I do not have found memories of the SAT, and the idea that the GRE could be somewhat reminiscent makes me a bit anxious.

Regardless, I have always been up for a challenge, even if I know it is most likely a doomed challenge, seeing that I have about as much of a knack for standardized tests as I do baseball (which, if you grew up with me at all, you would know this is no knack whatsoever).  I can't help but want to study for this test, hoping that maybe if I do so, I'll surprise myself and excel.  After all, aside from "Taming the SAT" I think I studied for about twenty minutes for the test.

Though I am not per-say excited about studying for the GRE itself, I have to admit something very nerdy: I am thrilled to study for the English Lit. subject exam.  Yesterday I spent about three hours reading through the questions, and though the majority were painfully tough, though I have never been an English major, and though I have a lot of studying to do, I was having a fantastic time basking in the literature trivia.  I wonder if they have a game for people like me?  Honestly, I could answer literature trivia and analyze poems and passages eight hours a day, five days a week.  I really don't know why, I guess it's the same reason that some people could sit and read political articles, or others want to talk about sports nonstop -- we're all a little too interested in something.  Lucky for me, there's an exam that praises my interest (a luxury that the afore mentioned do not to my knowledge have).

So with reluctance mixed in with a bit of excitement I will study to take the exams.  I'll just think of this in the same light as my half marathon endeavor: a challenge.  I probably won't take the exams until late-summer/early-fall, therefore I'm determined to study really hard; something I did not do in the slightest for my SAT.  Study hard maybe, but I still am steadfast refusing to take any class remotely resembling "Taming The SAT," or any class for that matter (even if they do provide cool souvenir pencils and water bottles to make you feel better about forking out a few hundred).  If I'm failing, I'll do so on my own. 

The Little Things

Writers, poets, and all of the sort seem to spend large quantities of time talking about the "little things."  True, this is a generalization, and true, many, if not most, try tackling a big question, such as "what is love?" or "why are we alive," but regardless, it's with the "little things" they try to define this.

Allow me to define "little things" so I can stop putting them randomly in the sentence leaving your wondering eyes to stare at the two words in unfriendly quotes.  They are the simple things in life.  Perhaps a poet will devote a whole poem to a rose, or an author talk for numerous pages about the grassy knoll she so dearly loves.  Yet, I am convinced, that it is through these little things that we come to the big things in life.  Or, maybe, the little things aren't really so little.

Take for example friendship.  To be best friends with someone is one thing, to share the binding words, and refer to one another casually as his/her best friend is standard, but it's not really this that bring so much joy.  The joy comes in the friendship.  The moments you spend laughing over ridiculous things, when they always return your calls, or the way they are there to eat breakfast with you every morning.  It's nice to have this.  So nice, in fact, that maybe returning a call or sharing a meal isn't so little.  To me, these things are vital, and big.

Perhaps this is why I am so fond of the, to what some call, simple things in life.  They happen to be the things that allow me to understand and begin to grasp the truly big things; they are the building blocks to something truly divine.