Pop Pop Pop!

Fireworks. I used to hate them. I was never much for loud noises, and I didn't really get the appeal of the lights. But now, not for the noise or the designs, I like them a lot.

NYE 2012/2013. I went to bed before midnight but woke up to fireworks outside, and the people we shared the hotel with shouting and singing "Born in the USA" (I was in Austria.) I wondered what the lights looked like from the Immigration Building Floor Four in Debrecen, and in all the countries all over the world with less stringent rules for fireworks as we have here in the US of A. I like the feeling of celebration shared by everyone in the world. And then I imagined the party in the sky when Jesus restores the world. WOAH. And ever since then, that's what I think of. Fireworks. A glimpse.

Schwaig

A year ago, I meandered around Schwaig, Germany, alone. I had traveled overseas alone before, but just the traveling, I had never stayed alone. It was a big deal for me. A big step in recognizing my ability to be independent and do it. It was magnificently lonely and exuberantly liberating. My sister and brother-in-law headed to the airport in the morning, and I was left for another 24 hours.

The town was incredibly tiny and I wasn’t as explorative as maybe I should have been. I walked the premises of the entire little town- literally. I walked through the neighborhoods and ended up in a farmer’s field. I waved to an old woman on a bicycle, stood on a bridge over a stream, and found a playground. I swung for a while and talked to God before I walked back to the hotel.

I had dance parties and wrote and wrestled with ideas. I stayed up all night, as I was leaving at 4 and didn’t want to miss my alarm. More dance parties, nasty coffee, all the leftover Christmas chocolate.

And then I paid the final charges at the front desk and climbed into the hotel shuttle van with a driver who did not speak a word of English, and me not speaking any German. “Delta” was what we finally figured out and twenty minutes later I was dumped on the curb of the Munich airport, in quite the wrong spot for Delta. No matter, I found it eventually, and then waited for the check in counter to open, sitting on the cold concrete floor, praying it would open soon so I could start the journey and stop worrying about it.

And somehow I got home, even though the Paris airport was an awful experience.

I think back on the experience with thankfulness. It wasn’t fun, but it was freeing. I can do this, whatever this is.

Reasons for Winter (in no particular order)

1. Noticing my teeth are cold when I smile.
2. Some added color to my usually quite pale face.
3. Coming inside and thawing out. The tinglies.
4. Cold fingers wrapped around warm mugs.
5. Snow. It's beautiful. It's quiet. Every flake is different. 
6. Everything is fragile, raw, and vulnerable. Nothing can hide. And in its vulnerability, everything is beautiful.
7. Winter creates a strong sense of community. We need each other. The wind is too much for all of us.
8. Playing in the snow. You can play in rain, but it's not quite the same.
9. It makes us slow down. Stop. Watch the snow. Listen. 
10. Gingerbread houses, candy canes, cozy lights, cocoa.
11. Bundling up.
12. Sleeping with lots of blankets.
13. Fires.
14. Snuggling in blankets and fuzzy socks on the couch, reading a book or watching a movie or knitting a scarf.
15. Oranges.
16. Boots.
17. The wind. A reminder of power. 
18. A reminder that humans aren't really that strong.
19. The invigoration of walking outside when the snow is stinging your eyelashes or the wind whips you in the face.
20. Mittens.
21. Scarves.
22. Walking at night and seeing people's houses lit up.
23. The way a blue sky stands out so sharply against the ground, the snow, the bare tree limbs.
24. A reminder, in the gray days, to look at the ground more. There are beautiful things on the ground too. 
25. The birds what stick around, and how visible they are: Cardinals, Blue Jays, etc.
26. A good cold day to clear out my sinuses.
27. There is always something to be thankful for. Thankful for your warm coat, your warm house, the heat at your friend's house, that you have socks...
28. Tea parties. There's something marvelous about a tea party in the winter time, I think.
29. There's been a lot of really good poetry created around/about/during the winter.
30. The way it smells.

I'm adding more from my friend Charlie.

 31. The joy of watching a puppy or child experience snow for the first time.

32. The horrible pain of cold air in my ears because it reminds me that I’m are alive and discomfort is only temporary.
33. Taking a deep breath and feeling the chill in the deepest part of my lungs.
34. Hats. 
35. Seeing animal tracks in fresh snow and remembering that we share this Earth with other creatures that don't fully depend on us, 
36. It’s a time of new beginnings and self evaluation.
37. The surprise caused by a well placed snowball in the face.
38. Steaming up the windows when I cook. 
39. The feeling of lotion on dry skin. 
40. The sound of snow crunching under my tire/foot. 
41. Having to humble myself after slipping on ice, especially in front of other people, and remembering that something as simple as ice can bring even the most confident and powerful person literally to their knees. 
42. The ongoing battle between hot and cold that causes icicles to grow, and the light that shines through them.
43. The adventure of waking up without heat.

Adding more of my own.

44. Being able to see my breath!
45. Eating snow and icicles.
46. playing on playgrounds is more exciting: sliding down slides, jumping off the swings.

Reflections on this eve of graduation

The future is no longer, I am here. I have arrived.

I made it through university, all four point five years, single. I have no fear of that, no fear of living my life with Jesus and, perhaps, a dog. I have been part of glorious communities of men and women who have carried me through.

I am unsure of what the future holds, where I will go, what I will do, how I will survive. I am not continuing my (formal) education in Psychology. I do not want to be a counselor. I do not (any longer) want to get my PhD. I know that this will be a struggle, as many of my friends are attending or plan to attend grad school, and I know so little about the degree I already (almost) have. I wonder if I will continue to struggle with feelings of academic inadequacy, even not being in school any longer.

I filled out a survey for BGSU, in which they asked a few simple questions. Do I have a job, am I looking for a job, Have I been offered a job? My answers, no, yes, no. But the yes, I’m not looking for a job in my field, no. I’m looking for a place to dive into, people to serve. I’m looking for my tribe. And I could not write that in any of the survey bubbles.

I am excited to close this chapter of my life. I know that life is scary after graduation, that people tend to get a bit depressed a few months after they graduate college and “real life” sets in. But I’m not worried. If all else fails, I have Jesus. So I’m not worried. I know that as I visit family over Christmas I’ll have to answer all the questions, and I’m not looking forward to it. I am a people pleaser and I don’t look forward to telling them things they won’t like. But I am not worried, for myself. 

I know it will get hard. Goodness, it already has. You don't have to be in any special part of life to experience the hard. But I'm excited. Jesus. 

JESUS. 

I didn't come up with this, write it prettily or anything, but I like it.

Almost midnight and freezing

It's almost midnight and the heat is broken. The temperature is slowly but surely slipping down the 60's... we'll call the landlord tomorrow.

So what else to do, but blog?

I haven't written words in quite a while, and I've noticed that the blog is getting a lot more traffic than it used to, which I'm honored by. Who are you, new friends? :) Thanks for coming over. I hope you're comfortable here, and if you're ever not, I hope it is the sort of discomfort that is useful, that makes you think.

I bought a ring a few months ago and I always wear it now, wedding ring style, but I'm not married or engaged, or "promised" or dating or even the silly, newfangled, "talking." A few people have asked me what it means and I've decided to write it down. It's easier that way.

You know how sometimes people get meaningful tattoos? It's like that. It's for me, but the world will inevitably see it. This ring is not a symbol for the world of what I will not do; it's a symbol for Jesus of what I will do for Him. A reminder to myself and a promise to God. If He wants me to be single for the rest of my life, I am happy to be that for Him. If He wants me to get married and have four children, I am happy to be that for Him. If He wants me to live in Ohio for the rest of my life, I will do that for Him. If He wants me to move to the desert, I will do it. A reminder to myself that I do not answer to myself.

Yeah.

It's cold in here. I'mma put on my mittens and go to bed.