growth

Today was business as usual. I went into work, took some phone calls, answered some emails. And then I was in a meeting, discussing the details of our upcoming new student orientation, when I was overcome by the magnitude of my personal growth over the last year. It seems that as each year passes, the progress becomes more significant, the pace quicker and quicker. And this year was no letdown-- no, no, this year was beyond my most extreme imaginations. This year was unprecedented growth and unpredictable change.

This understanding was all brought on by, as I mentioned, a meeting discussing orientation. As my boss and I tried to nail down the most finite of details, I found myself straining to recall orientation from the other side-- that of a student instead of a planner. And I realized that it had been just one minor year between the scared shitless, unsure, quiet transplant from Texas and the slowly strengthening, quiet, independent woman who has learned to bloom where she is planted. Just a year ago, I was recovering from dengue in comfort, readjusting to life in the US, exploring the newness of my first romantic fling, and getting ready to pack up my life and step out in faith, once again. Just a year ago, I packed my car to the brim, filled up my gas tank and said goodbye to my family again, with a destination in mind but no real plans. Just a year ago, I had no understanding and no clear idea of God's call, but I heard it leading me to DC. Just a year ago, I had no job, no place to live, no friends, no church, and no knowledge that those 1500 miles separating me from the place where I was raised and the place where I was going to grow up would become 1500 miles between who I was and who I am. Just a year.

And now, my circumstances are radically different: I found and negotiated my own position for my lodging, re-entered school and became a student once more, I found a job, joined a church, made new friends. I started paying my tuition with student loans, and now I am paying my own way through school and paying my loans goodbye. I once couldn't see the ground before my feet, but now I see the future. I have a plan and I have a desire to be where I plan in five years. I have a network, a community of people I trust, love and can call on to support me.

The orientation I attended last year was my first solo ride on the metro. I arrived late, did not understand the reaffirmation of baptism service, was afraid to trust the kindness of my classmates, and was COMPLETELY freaked out by liturgical dance. I sat in on my first UMC service, was out past dark my first night in DC, and met so many of the people who have become regular characters in my life: Erica, Drew, Sammy, and Craig. And this year...

This year, I'm planning the orientation.

How's that for growth? This stuff that God makes happen... you can't dream this up. It's so encouraging when you work so hard and can look back and recognize progress. It just makes you excited for the future.

taking time to stray

Last night I indulged in some social trivialities; namely hanging out. With drunk people. Instead of doing laundry. Or packing, or cleaning, or getting ready for my impending 3,500 mile journey... what can I say? I'm an habitual procrastinator.

There's not much else to say about being social with friends of friends, people you don't know, because it's rather difficult to make connections with strangers who are drunk when you're not. It also made games considerably more challenging.

But one benefit of the evening was getting to know my friend Mike a little better. Mike is a really cool person. He's incredibly well-articulated, witty, and intelligent, and more than all of that, Mike is a NICE GUY. He's nice the way I wish I were, but never could be, because I learned to care for myself before I learned to care for others.

I took him home at the end of the evening, from Friendship Heights to Eastern Market. Now, I have been in that neighborhood before. But not driving. And not in awhile. And not at night. So while it was simple enough for Mike to get me to his door, it was much less simple to go home the way I came. I have a horrible sense of direction. Or maybe, it's less my sense of direction and more that I've just stopped worrying so much about taking wrong turns. How bad can my direction really be if I always eventually get to the right place?

I headed home with the intention of going home, but as soon as I realized I was not where I meant to be I decided that I had been presented with the perfect opportunity to take some time to stray. I'm never downtown at night, and I almost never have my camera on me. But I've started to carry it in my purse so I have it every day, and I realized that with few people on the road, I could stand to take take some pictures at red lights.

Or green lights.

There's so much to this city I haven't even seen yet, so wrapped up in responsibility, I've never given myself the chance. One of the things I'm looking forward to since I'll only be working ONE job and going to school in the fall is going to be free evenings. I'm going to make it a priority to stray more often. To start practicing letting my sense of adventure take over my sense of responsibility sometimes. To stop being more afraid than in awe and to start being more free than tied down.

There's so much you miss when you don't give yourself the time to slow down and really see. I have passed this embassy at least twice every Sunday for the last six months, and I have never taken enough time to notice how beautiful the minaret is. Or absorbed the fact that there IS a minaret right there on Massachusetts Ave! I'm not sure if it can actually be a minaret if it's not a part of a mosque, or if it's just a part of middle eastern architecture, but it made me miss Indonesia.


Sometimes, when you least expect it, when you're minding your business and set on one task, you'll lose your way. It doesn't really matter that you're committed to the journey, or even what the journey is. It might be accidental, accidental-on-purpose, or a forced detour: whatever the reason, embrace it! Without knowing it, straying from the road well-paved could be exactly what you need, when you need it. You might just find that at the top of that hill, around the corner, your eye will catch on something you've seen a million times, but THIS time, well... this is the time it'll take your breath away.

the most beautiful thing I've ever made

The summer is nearly at a close. The last remaining weeks are passing quickly by and very soon, the season which not long ago was so anticipated, and which filled me with an unprecedented sense of expectation, will be a fresh memory. That feeling of anticipation has not passed, however, and I'm starting to think that summer was merely the beginning. The excitement was not for summer, the excitement was for the work God did in my life during the summer-- work that's not yet finished!

Today I had the opportunity to thank someone who has been instrumental to this summer growth. She has pushed me farther than I ever would have pushed myself, someone who has encouraged, empowered, and challenged me every week like clockwork. She is a powerful minister, an exceptional advocate, and an insightful teacher. In addition to my gratitude, however, is grief borne of separation as I am in the process of saying goodbye as she leaves our church in an official capacity to discover what God has in store for her next. True to her work ethic, she's staying with me and her other disciples until the very last second before she leaves-- and I am sure that even after she is no longer my mentor in an official capacity that she will remain a very salient and powerful presence in my life.

So to thank her for her work in me (and in others), I made a stole today for her to use in her future ministerial endeavors. I wanted to create something that was meaningful for me and for her, but also something she could wear on the street! Mary's heart is for 'unchurched' people, which makes perfect sense why she became my mentor, then. I think it is fitting that I had never attempted to create a stole before, just as this summer it was her influence that empowered me to try many other new things. And just as I feel those other new things have been for me, this stole turned out to be the most beautiful thing I've ever done. Have a look for yourself:


The fabric is hand-stamped batik from Indonesia, a particular cut of cloth I have been coveting for many years and using very sparingly. I love that I was able to share it with her. Purple is a very liturgical color, the color worn for both Advent and Lent, so it is a stole that COULD get a lot of use in a traditional church. I had never made a stole before, so I snuck into Cokesbury last week and traced one of their overpriced stoles to get the shape of the neck right.


The embroidery is silver metallic thread, very simply done, a french-stitched cross. I originally wanted to do an ichthyus on either side of both crosses, because I feel that Mary exemplifies Jesus' call to his to disciples to "come follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." I recognize there's a lot of mixed metaphor there, so that's another reason I kept it simple. I think it turned out much better than I ever could have anticipated.


And this is the finished product. She was speechless when she received it and even more so when she realized I had made it for her. I was SO excited to give it to her. It just goes to show that it is better to give than it is to receive. Mary told me I'll have to add this to my list of spiritual gifts (one of my assignments for the summer)... definitely not part of the school of thought that believes the nine listed in the Bible are all there is. That's okay, though. We're untraditional. A little ironic, no?

on being a grown up

This summer for me has been a lot about growing up-- more. I have been on my own, independent in every way for quite a long time now, but fear and complacency have kept me in the same place for much too long. As I explored this summer my calling regarding ministry, I also grew further into adulthood. Which makes sense. I certainly couldn't have answered an adult call with a child's maturity.

Recognizing spiritual growth came first though. It was a big deal for me to take on a pastoral care role-- when being an authority in the church is such a terrifying prospect for me. But I said yes because I felt God move, and it has been such a blessing. I spend time with, love on, and pray for eight summer camp counselors as they adjust to their own burgeoning adulthood. I am fumbling my way in the dark, but learning that my eyes are not for seeing, and my spirit is. It's hard to remember now, how I even felt two months ago when I began the summer with a beautiful feeling of anticipation for the life-altering season before me.

Since saying yes, I have led my first devotional, said my first prayers with a group, held people through their tears, laughed with them at their own mistakes, and puzzled out their next steps of faith. I have held one-on-ones and I have been a confidant to their secrets. I have discovered that I DO have gifts. I DO have the ability to be used by God, and my heart is willing for Him to call me to things that I fear. I have stood before my congregation and read the Word, agreed to write the Call to Worship, and even begun to help plan an entire worship service. I have cried with these young men and women, marveled at their strength, and promised to be their strength when they no longer have any. I've shared of myself, my gifts and my talents, and I have never been so richly rewarded.



My experience stepping out in such faith has led me to a decision I had been postponing for awhile. I have felt the gentle tugs of God, calling me to explore ministry for six months. But I have been unable and unwilling to act on something so far from my own idea of the future. I have been afraid and ignorant of God's intent for me. This summer has been the experience I needed to help me understand the power of a willing heart: and to recognize that mine has not been a very good example of a willing heart. But no more. I'm ready for the world to change again-- to look different from the world I know. I'm ready to follow in whatever God calls me to, no matter how antithetical that calling is to the picture I once had for myself. I'm ready.

That kind of maturity, to give up the selfish, juvenile ideas I created for myself, to accept something that scares me, to be willing to change my life for something I cannot explain-- that's new. And for me, the realization of it's ownership is exciting! A little surprising. No one ever wants to admit in the present tense that they are not mature. But in retrospect, how can I call myself anything else?

After a good and long discussion with a dear friend this evening, I realized quite another big thing about myself. That I like being a grown up. Being a grown up has become liking the woman that I am, and valuing myself as a part of God's Creation. Wanting to change to better reflect the name of "Christian". Being willing to sacrifice parts of my past for my future. Not being ashamed, unsure of myself or my decisions. Being led by the Holy Spirit to make mature decisions based not on my selfish desires but on what is right. And, as my friend pointed out tonight, that although I may have self-doubts in the end, I can genuinely appreciate God's creation of me.

Here's to growing up.