rhythms

there is nothing more satisfying than the pound-pound, pound-pound of your sneakers against the pavement after you've managed to pull yourself out of bed for a morning run. the steady rhythm of running is unchanging and solid, no matter the pace, even as your breath skips and drags in syncopated time.

these little rhythms of life are everywhere. i love finding them, hidden, and discovering a new musicality in the everyday and the mundane. it's like some great symphony that we ourselves are playing, only so rarely do we realize it. 

i was babysitting on friday and we spent the whole morning snuggled up in blankets reading and singing together. em had picked out several dr. seuss books. it took me a minute to get back into the swing of reading his rhymes. i tripped over my own tongue more than once before finally finding the rhythm of the words. and as the poetry began to feel like singing, i read faster and with greater pizazz, emphasizing just the right syllables, so that the girls would be lulled by the rhyming lines, able to truly experience the beautiful chaos of dr. seuss. 

and then we really did sing. thank goodness i have a repertoire of Disney princess songs in my arsenal of audition pieces. i can be Belle or Sleeping Beauty or Ariel on command (and with the red tint to my hair,i can just about fancy myself to be Ariel). i'm also starting to introduce them to my other favorite princesses: Eliza and Eponine and Laurie. 

but more beautiful than all of that is one-year-old Sydney's budding version of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star."

rhythms of sound and lyric are not, of course, the only ones. more important are the rhythms of people, of lives. as the opening of the semester approaches, those familiar patterns and routines of graduate student life creep in: alarms are set, books purchased, lunches packed, highlighters made ready. the manic pace of the past week has foreshadowed the coming onslaught of syllabi, papers, unending pages to read, deadlines to meet, (not to mention) relationships to upkeep, exercise to squeeze in, sleep. it's hectic and insane, and somehow it feels normal and manageable--despite the seeming lack of control, i am still in control. i am the one juggling, the one smoothing the harmony of the different components: class and school work, church internship, student government, babysitting, another potential job on campus, time for me and time for my friends. i'd also love to serve on a worship planning committee for chapel services and get involved with two other school organizations: Sacred Worth and Social Concerns Network. maybe the creation care keepers, too. my approach looks to be: go until you hit tilt. 

but coming back to school doesn't just mean a return to chaos. it also means a return to friends. i love the simple rhythm of an afternoon spent with my girlfriends, conversation easy and light, laughing and singing along to the radio. i love knowing people and trusting them, being myself and sharing life. these are the rhythms, the ones of people, that change so often, that come and go, but run throughout life like a sturdy bass line. these are the rhythms that keep us singing even when we've had a rough week, that come back to us after a long time quiet, that can fill the emptiness and the silence--or rather, remind us of the great beauty that is life. for there is Another to whose beat we dance. 

for each other

truth: breaking up sucks, no matter how amiable it is.

(want to know what else sucks? having another guy, whom one BARELY knows and has no interest in, approach said ex for advice on how to best approach freshly single self, because all previous attempts at interaction via FACEBOOK have been duly ignored. bah. )

BUT, this post aims to be about the incredible value of relationships. and you know what good relationships require? vulnerability. and what does vulnerability risk? hurt.

(this feels vaguely like some para-biblical version of Romans 5:4. i'm channeling paul, i never can help it.)

i'm wallowing in a bit of hurt right now, but have also been marinating in it for the last 3 months of my summer. and those three months, we both think, is what saved our friendship, though our opinions about being morethanfriends have come to differ. i would rather have a friendship with someone whom i care about deeply and who has not-so-intentionally hurt me than to push him away and lose not only a dating relationship but a really good friendship, too.

but it still sucks. for a little while, it will suck. end of story.

i've been doing a lot of thinking about relationships--about how we are deeply relational people. this fact has been thrown into distinctive relief by my return to atlanta. despite the community that i built during my time in DC, it feels so good to be home and among the people whose lives with mine are now interwoven. i spent friday evening with several good friends, and all night long, we just sat around, first on the porch, then in the living room, talking for hours. that's not always the definition of a party or a get-together--sometimes there's more, but there's never less than that. we spend time with people because we want to be with them. the simplicity of this gathering reminded me of that.

we also had a German exchange student join us for the evening. i wondered, as he sat with us, whether this was weird for him, granted, it was likely a bit awkward because we've all known one another for at least a year, and he is just beginning to make friends here, but i wondered more so whether this was a cultural thing or not. did he think we, young, fun-loving twentysomething Americans, would more likely be spending friday night out at a club or bar, where talking still happens but not quite as organically or intimately? or perhaps it was a glimpse into the closeness of our community, a promise of great relationships to come for him. i hope he felt welcomed into it all.

i also love all the new people i've been meeting--just 2 full weeks of being back, and i've already met and started to know more Candler peers--in my polity class and in the C3 (student government) events that i've been attending. and now, starting tomorrow, i'll be volunteering at Candler's new student orientation and meeting a whole class of new people. expanding the community is exciting and promising. what a neat phase of life, to be meeting so many people of such diverse backgrounds. hopefully, working in the church, this constant renewal of community will continue, with no less the degree of tight-knit-ness than we have among school colleagues.

renewal brings freshness,yes, but it also requires work. it demands change, a shedding of one skin to grow another.

all this to say, thank God for relationships. for the people who come into our lives for only a season and are gone all too soon; for those who hurt us and yet remind us of the need for forgiveness and of the incredible ability for healing; for lifelong friends; for "small-world" moments and connections; for roommates, for family. for messiness and brokenness and wholeness and beauty. for each other.

roach's last stand, etc.

i've been back in Atlanta nearly a week now, and my experience has been a perfect mix of newness and familiarity.

my new apartment is fabulous. FAB.U.LOUS...despite the two larger-than-average bugs i've had to squash. one left me with a jammed finger (roaches, i believe, may survive the apocalypse. i had to give him an extra good whack). the other was such a satisfying smash that amanda had to get out the wet wipes to clean up the scene of the attack. pesky bugs aside, we're feeling much more settled. not everything is assembled, hung up, or even purchased yet, but it's becoming home. my room is light and airy and spacious. for the first time in my nearly 25 years, i have a walk-in closet and my own bathroom. these things certainly aren't necessities, but it's rather nice to spread out a bit. yesterday we had our basic cable and internet installed, we found our mailbox, and i've finally figured out the right combination of buttons to press to open the front gate to our complex. home sweet home, indeed.

i think what makes the apartment extra-fab is my roommate. sure, it's only our first week together (and fall semester hasn't yet begun), but it feels like a perpetual slumber party :) talking and laughing nonstop; watching gilmore girls, grocery shopping and cooking together; decorating our space.

one week of class down now, too. it feels really good to be back at Candler--very natural and comfortable. it feels good to be with my peers and colleagues, to learn, maybe even to crack the books again. UMC polity is alternately encouraging and overwhelming, but we have a very knowledgeable and kind instructor, and despite the 8am start time, i'm glad to be taking it.

only bad thing about the week so far--got stopped for speeding yesterday. thankfully, it was only a warning. 10 over. going down a hill. these cops were sitting at the bottom of the hill, around a corner, and just pulling over car after car that came by. there were literally 3 other cars lined up on the side of the road that i pulled behind.  i suppose i am thankful for the lesson that this road i will be driving down frequently is, in fact, a 35mph zone. it's still an icky feeling. but i certainly don't need to be paying for a ticket when there are a hundred other expenses involved with moving into a new place and starting a new semester.

also, still looking forward to a lot of my closest friends moving back to town. but all in all, a good week one back home in ATL. celebrating with lunch at the Flying Biscuit this afternoon :)

small, small world

though i should be reading about United Methodist polity right now, i wanted to give a brief update: i'm back in Atlanta and (partially) settled into my new apartment! we are still waiting for an installation appointment for our internet, so i may be a bit out of touch between times spent at various wi-fi hotspots. but i am having a blast living with Amanda already, our apartment is cute even though half of our stuff is scattered in boxes and piles, and i survived my polity class at 8am this morning!

CRAZY story i have to share: today at the post office i was standing behind a woman who looked very familiar. i finally recognized her as the mother of an INFANT i babysat in high school. little abby, who was 6 months old when i first started watching her, is NINE and started the fourth grade today. i feel old. i didn't get to see abby, but met her youngest sister, who was born after i left for college and stopped sitting for this family. but now, we're neighbors again--they just moved into the morningside neighborhood a week ago, which is right up the road from my new place. we traded phone numbers and i hope i can spend some time babysitting for them all over again! i LOVE moments that make the world feel this small.

okay, i really need to start this polity reading. but i'm so excited to be back in atlanta, back at candler, and back with my wonderful community of friends!

there is a great hope

yesterday my Beatitudes Society summer cohort met for the last time. confession: i'm not doing so well with goodbyes this week--and i have a lot of them to say. i have met (and reconnected) with so many amazing people this summer and they all have beautiful souls that inspire me to live a little better myself.

but despite the bittersweet moments of our last time together, i was overwhelmed with a sense of great hope amidst our closing conversations. it suddenly dawned on me that we are the bearers of this good news, this Gospel message. and there are people who desperately need to hear it. as Christ's very ambassadors, it is our call to declare this hope to the world--a world that is suffering not only from hunger, poverty, environmental crises, corruption, (and the list goes on) but that also suffers from a diluted and perverted Christianity, from irresponsible leadership, and from strife between faiths that should be working together for peace. in all this--there is still a great hope. i think it has been buried; it has been hidden and people aren't hearing it and seeing it anymore.

which means we stand at a great juncture, with a great responsibility. we have a message of freedom. and if we can commit to being faithful to that message, despite the long, hard, uphill battle it may take to proclaim it truthfully, i think there can be a turning back, in our society and in our generation, towards life. there can be a freshness, a renewal, a light.

we have this message. what, now, are we going to do with it?

i began this reflection last night and was trying to pull my thoughts together without much success. but then this morning, as i was working on my final evaluation for the Beatitudes Society, i reviewed my application to the program that i submitted earlier this spring. i think my own words, before any of my experiences and relationships from the summer came to pass, best sum up how i felt during this dawning of hope yesterday:

In my personal and academic studies and spiritual disciplines, I have been led to vastly question contemporary Christianity's relationship to the teachings of Jesus Christ. Radicality has been lost in complacency and prosperity. We have neglected the message that speaks to society's downtrodden and have replaced it with a message that supports the gross injustices of an overtly wealthy society. We have become our time's Egypt, Babylon, or Rome with our false gods of patriotism, prosperity, and comfort . It scares me that the Gospel message has been deeply disguised underneath a cultural Christianity that carries little of the weight of salvific impact that Jesus intended to convey. I am still exploring what it means for me to live and practice as a true disciple of Christ, but I am convinced that it should be something different, something more than what so many are experiencing in American Christianity. It is possible to work towards a more genuine, progressive Christianity, but it is not easy and requires a definite pushing of boundaries and stepping outside of comfort zones. I have already experienced what it feels like to rock the boat within a more traditional setting and have at times been neglected instead of encouraged. There is a long road ahead, but it has been encouraging to know that there is a movement of people walking it together. When our goal is to recapture the essence of loving one another by emphasizing compassion, peace, and justice, what, in the end, can overcome us?

just call me alfalfa

the good news: i am growing new hair! no, seriously. i have these little sprigs of fresh, never-been-seen-before hair growing right on the crown of my head. the bad news: peach fuzz is cute on babies. that's when most people grow their hair. it's not so cute when the majority of your hair is down to your shoulders and this one little patch is sticking up like somebody took scissors to it at a slumber party.

however, despite my newfound affinity to one Alfafa of Little Rascals fame, i am thankful for my new baby hairs. sometimes, it's the little things that put the sunshine in life.

but it's also the big things.

on friday night i saw the movie Agora. i think Rachel Weisz is divine and was intrigued by the story of a woman philosopher, Hypatia, who actively studied and taught in Alexandria during the 4th century. but (as is usually the case when i venture outside of the merry sunshine and rainbows of romantic comedies) i got a little more than i bargained for with this film. it was a deeply religious movie that highlighted the violent conflict between the Christians, the pagans, and the Jews living in Alexandria. let's just say that no one was portrayed as the "good guys" in the story, but the Christians may have fared worst.  i can appreciate that if it reflects historical accuracy--no need to sugarcoat things, certainly.

however, my old friend 1 Timothy 2 reared its ugly head in this movie. spoiler alert: Hypatia dies violently. and the movie, at least, credits the cause of that plot to the reading of 1 Timothy. a tyrannical bishop proclaims this Scripture in church and accuses Hypatia of witchcraft because she has the Roman prefect under her influence and is decidedly non-religious and, of course, a woman. her voice is then silenced by the blind fear and merciless violence of a Christian mob.

who knows if this particular Scripture was actually proclaimed against Hypatia. but, i think it is safe to say that it has been used against plenty of other women. i am so thankful that i stand at a time and in a tradition that ordains women to ministry, that respects women as teachers, that defines our worth above and beyond childbearing, that allows us to learn in top seminaries, and encourages us in our call to serve God. how many before me were denied that right? how many were silenced, locked up, or killed because they wanted to pursue the source of this very fire that burns inside of me, too? i am so thankful. but it's a battle not yet won. and we can't just "highlight" some of paul's choice words in black permanent marker and be rid of them. but we have come an awful long way.

another dawning moment of thankfulness came yesterday afternoon. i went to tour the franciscan monastery and gardens of which i had heard high praise. my new friend shannon claimed it as her favorite spot in all of d.c., so i joined her and her partner aaron for a visit. let me say firstly that there is an undying seminarian-nerdy-bookworm type that lives inside of me, and, on occasions like yesterday's tour, she pokes incessantly at the inside of my brain and begs to be let loose of the polite, smiling girl in which she resides to wreck havoc on unsuspecting tour guides and the like who aren't paid enough to face her down in arguments over dates, biblical quotes, and geographic references. i keep her at bay. but just barely sometimes.

anyhow, this particular franciscan monastery is called the monastery of the holy land in america, which means that the chapels within the church building are modeled after famous sites in the holy land--holy sepulchre, church of the annunciation, church of the nativity, and so on. the altar canopy was modeled after the one at St. Peter's in Rome, and there are even "catacombs" down in the lower church modeled after the ones in Rome. it's a beautiful, beautiful place and i really would like to go back to the gardens when temperatures aren't soaring above 100. yet even during our short visit,  i was overwhelmed again and again with gratitude for my opportunity, at only 24 years of age, to have seen the majority of the original versions of these replicas. i am so blessed. there are a million more places and things that i want to see, but even if i never travel another day in my life, i will still have seen more of the world than the vast majority of the population. especial thanks go to the mother who nurtured, encouraged, and supported such an acute sense of travel and adventure and a love for reckless exploration.

i have but 4 days left to recklessly explore DC! the highlights of my dwindling to-do list: attend a congressional hearing on the Millennium Development Goals, watch the Nationals take on the Braves, and kayak on the Potomac river!

Romans 12:21

i do not remember a time when my stomach has turned so violently just from reading about a particular current issue. but i literally feel sick as i read about the protest by some Americans over the planned community center and mosque near ground zero in NYC. 

what astounds me most is that our nation's leaders are vocally promoting this discrimination. do we not remember the principles upon which our nation was founded? religious freedom. people came here to escape the persecution they were facing because of their religious beliefs. how is this any different? how can we claim to be the land of the free and stand behind our first amendment rights when people are openly and publicly decrying the building of this mosque? 

it infuriates me that people want to equate Islam with terrorism. that is stereotyping in its worst and most blatant form. we cannot allow ourselves to associate the actions of the very few with the intentions of the much larger group with which they identified themselves. 

i understand that people are up in arms because of the new mosque's proximity to Ground Zero. however, i think we would better honor the victims by graciously welcoming the building of the mosque. if we reduce ourselves to an attitude of hate, we are acting out of the same irrational fear that motivated these terrorists. what have we learned from this terrible tragedy if we cannot choose to act differently ourselves? 

Do not be overcome with evil, but overcome evil with good.

this is our chance to show the world that we are not ignorant, selfish Americans. we can live up to the ideals on which we claim to stand. it is my deepest prayer that our Muslim brothers and sisters, especially those here in this country, will hear the voices that rise in support of them. that they will know that there are people who think it is sacrilegious to protest the building of a space of worship--in NYC, in Tennessee, anywhere. i

i think we--people---are more than this. i believe we have the capacity to love more than we have to hate. i believe we best express our faith in God by expressing our faith in each other.  i pray that this situation will be peacefully resolved, in a way that doesn't involve the Muslim community feeling pressured to back down. i pray that our country will elect and support leaders that don't actively promote discrimination. i pray that we can learn from the past as we live in the present and look towards the future. 

love wins.