Kindness, Goodness, and a Fresh Pair of Eyes...

Tonight I went to a gathering (I don't much like to use the word "party" as a noun) at the home of two people I am ever so pleased to call my friends, and I took my new roommate with me. She hasn't met many people in the week that she has been here, and I really wanted her to meet the fabulous people that I call my friends. I, of course, had ideas of how she would fall in love with my friends as everyone else does. But see, we had a problem. She had a very long week at her new job, and has had a slightly hard time adjusting to the change of moving here and leaving everything she had ever known on her own free will. I get that. So she wasn't much in the "partying" mood tonight, and stayed slightly hidden most of the evening.

Something I've learned very quickly about her is that when she gets really tired, she gets really sad. This has broken my heart every time, because I want very much for her to feel comfortable and happy here. I want to do everything I can to help her feel welcome, and loved, and happy to be here. Tonight, though, I seemed to have had my own agenda. She was ready to leave and go to bed, and I chose to ignore the signs and keep pursuing my own happiness. This was wrong of me, but it gave the chance for another one of God's beautiful daughters to step into her life and love the way He taught us. It was truly beautiful.

There is a person in my group of friends that I have a really hard time getting. One of those things where I really don't want to misunderstand them. I really want to be able to put aside past opinions and barriers, and be able to open the eyes of understanding between this person and me. It has been a desire of mine for months, but I had yet to accomplish this. I really wanted to have a friendship with this person; I've felt drawn to them. That being said, this might have been one of the last people I expected my roommate to form a bond with. And yet, if I had had any sense at all, I would have seen how perfect it would be. And it was.

This person is so incredibly kind. She sat and talked to and loved on my precious, homesick new friend while I was selfish. She listened, and she gave of herself. The eyes of my heart were opened at the goodness I saw in this person, and all of the prior opinions I had fell away. That, to me, is one of the greatest blessings God has so obviously placed in front of me in a long time. To see such genuine kindness in another person that I am so often afraid I misunderstand, while at the same time feeling the sting of my own selfishness. I am blessed to have seen such beauty in another person. I am so grateful to them for loving my new friend. It means the world to me when people show kindness to the people I care about. It's so precious.

I know this probably hasn't made much sense to anyone but me. These are just my thoughts tonight, about a few people I really care about. I really hope sometime I can tell this friend of mine how precious I think they are, and how much I appreciate the goodness that just spills out of them. I am ever so grateful that they showed such kindness to a stranger that I happen to care so much about. I really am just so grateful that this person is who she is, and that I'm beginning to see who she is through fresh, new eyes.

I'm convinced that sometimes the most beautiful people God creates are standing right in front of us, but we can't see it because our human hearts are too quick to judge, or too stubborn for second chances. I want to banish these attitudes from my heart and from my life. I want to see people through the eyes of Jesus, and I want to see such goodness in people much more often. I've said it a million times, and I'll say it again: I am ever so blessed to know the people I know. They are some of God's greatest creation. Tonight, again, I was reminded.

Answers in Time...

June 18, 2007-
I'm on a plane flying home to Nashville. I'm crying, pleading with God. I've learned how to ask for what I really want, and for the first time, I do it. These are the words scribbled on the back of my boarding pass:
Lord, may please I have a place to live and people to live with that I enjoy. People that I can share life with and hang out with in an environment that isn't stressful.

August 19, 2007-
I moved into the house with the boys (Bryan and Jeremy). The next day, they both go out of town. Come to find out, they are both out of town A LOT. I don't see them much. I have a hard time having relationships with them. They are boys, after all. What did I expect? I wonder how this is possibly the answer to my prayers. It doesn't make sense. God, did you hear my prayer? Is this the answer?

October 20, 2007-
I woke up at one in the afternoon, and I have a new roommate living in the previously empty room upstairs. Her name is Ashley. She moved here from Georgia for a job. We meet, and have lunch with Bryan. She's great. I wonder if we might be friends.

October 21, 2007-
I'm sitting in the car with Ashley. We've spent the whole last two days together, genuinely having a good time, and getting to know each other. She looks at me and tells me how glad she is that I live in the house. I tell her how glad I am that she is here. I'm wondering where she has been the rest of my life. We've already reached the deep level it takes me months to reach with another person. I suddenly realize that God answered my prayer. He just asked me to wait a while. And it was worth the wait...

I have a new roommate. She is the answer to my prayers. I am so grateful. Thank You, Jesus. You answered me, in Your own time. I couldn't have picked anyone better, at any better time. Only You could. But that's just Who You Are...

Goodbyes at Sunrise...

The clock in the car read 4:39am as I turned out of my subdivision and headed toward the airport. I had only been asleep for two hours when the alarm went off, so I wasn't really even tired. I had been psyching myself up for this all night. I was hoping it would be quick and painless, unlike my last three goodbyes. I made it to the airport in about fifteen minutes, parked the car, grabbed the keys, and headed to the terminal. I was early; they weren't here yet. The airport was surprisingly busy for this early on a Sunday morning, and I sent him a text to tell him so. He sent one back, asking if that meant I was here. Well, of course I was. It wasn't long before they walked up, both carrying some of his stuff. We all got in line for him to check in. We made small talk while we waited, and laughed quietly at each other a few times. After he checked in, we walked to the security line, and stood and stared at each other for a moment. He said we could go, and she said that yeah, she was just thinking it was time to go. She hugged him first, and told him she loved him, and then it was my turn. I, too, told him I loved him, and that I was proud. We snapped a picture, and then said goodbye one more time. As we turned to walk away, we found ourselves looking back just once, and I yelled out one more loud goodbye. We both smiled sadly to ourselves, and walked side-by-side out of the terminal. As we headed toward our cars, it seemed there was nothing left to say. It was done, it was over. It was just goodbye. Just another goodbye at sunrise...

Irreplaceable Lessons in Unexplainable Love

Right now I am sitting in one of the five gazillion branches of the Nashville Public Library surrounded by strangers. Yes, I have a computer at home, but there is just something about public libraries that has always attracted me. Of course the number one reason is because I love to read, and an endless supply of books I can read for free definitely sparks my interest, but there is also something about the library that makes me happy on the inside. And that, of course, always inspires me to write. So I am going to take this chance to write what I am thinking RIGHT NOW, instead of waiting until later when I am too tired to write. Here goes...

The last few days (or weeks, rather) I have been overwhelmed with gratefulness for knowing the people I know. I am convinced that God has blessed me in such a way that I am friends with the greatest, most humble, most beautiful people He has ever created. But as I was thinking about it this afternoon, I realized that I am grateful for the people in my life for all different kinds of reasons. My friends are most definitely categorized, in many different ways, and many of them fall into more than one category. And these categories play different roles in my life. One thing is for sure though, I am equally grateful for each and every one of them.

I am grateful for, and forever indebted to, my friends that are older than I am. I have been blessed to have older friends that are wonderful teachers, and that are willing to share their stories with me so that I know someone else has gone through what I go through. My best friend is 8 1/2 years older than me, and while our friendship started with me leading her to Jesus, she soon cut in front and I now look to her for so much advice about growing up. She makes me not fear getting older, because she does it with such grace. She would do anything for me, and proves it over and over again, even when I'm a brat. She holds a special place in my heart, and always will. One of the dearest friends I have ever had (you know who you are) is five years older than me, and has taught me (or rather, let Jesus teach me through her) more in the seven months we have been friends, than anyone ever has in my whole life. She has come the closet to loving me like Jesus would than any friend I have ever had. I learn patience and perseverance from her because of how she is toward me. I respect and admire her more than she will ever know. She reminds me to breathe. Another friend of mine who is three years older than me has taught me that it is still ok to speak truth to people that are older than you are. She has showed me how to be a friend to someone who doesn't want a friend, and she has listened as I whine about life almost every day. I am forever indebted to my older friends. Without them, I would be blind to hope for the future. I hope they know the impact they have made on my life.

I am grateful for, and most easily am myself around, my friends that are the same age as me (give or take a year). These are my closest friends. The ones that I share mutual give-take relationships with. The ones that go through the same struggles and stages that I do, near or at the same times as me. Most important of these are the friends that I have come to share all parts of life with. I have a group of five to ten people that I can share my joys, struggles, heartbreaks, and celebrations with, at all times. Some of them I talk to every day, and some I don't, but these are the people I run to when something exciting happens (even if it's only exciting to me), or when I'm having a bad week. They speak truth into my life even when it hurts, and they party with me when we have something to celebrate. These are the people that show up when they know I need them to, even if they have nothing to say. They know me well enough to read me, and that speaks volumes. Life would be horribly lonely without these friends.

I am grateful for, and have the most stupid-fun with, my friends that are younger than me. It is often these people that remind me that I take life a little too seriously sometimes. They remind me to let go and play, and help restore a little of the innocence I lost such a long time ago. They teach me patience, because I have to remember that I once didn't have anything figured out yet, either. They make me miss being young enough to not worry about so much, and they keep the child inside me alive. They give me someone to take care of, and they make me feel cool. They give me someone to pass the wisdom that I have received from my older friends onto. I am positive my life wouldn't be so much fun if I didn't have friends that were younger than me. They make my heart smile :).

We need other people in our lives. We need the people that walk in front of, the ones that walk beside us, and the ones that walk behind us. I am also lucky enough that I have many friends that do two of these things, and a few that even do all three! Those are the most precious by far. My friends are my family, and lately I have realized just how blessed I am. If you are reading this, and I call you my friend, then know that I am grateful for you. You are special to me. And I thank God for you every single day. I am blessed to know the most beautiful people God has created, and I am blessed to call them my friends.

Showing Up

Another sudden death occurs in my life, and again I find myself asking why. Again I am reminded how quickly life can be gone, and how sometimes we just don't expect it. Sometimes it scares me to think how sudden death could come, and I think back on the occasions of my life when people have passed in surprise, and how we have dealt with it. I think about how people reacted, and how tragedies like these have seemed to shape our views and shape how we deal and heal. Another friend my age has died, this time to sudden sickness instead of the car accident we dealt with as seniors, the suicide we dealt with a year later, and the heart attack just months ago. This time I ask myself if I should show up to this one. I worry about who I might run into if I do, or what I would say if I ran into those more torn up about it than I am. But then I remember that I of all people should know that it's not about words and it's not about image. It's just about showing up. It's just about the silent respect shown in taking the time to come and support those who are hurting in a time of loss. It's just about being there.

When my dad took my mom to the hospital that last time, and I found out a few hours later that she would die within the next day or so, I was in too much of a state of covered-up shock to call people. I was afraid to ask my freinds to come and hold my hand because I had always played the strong one, the one that didn't need any support. I could stand alone. Right? Much to my surprise, within an hour my pastor and my best friend at the time, Katie, were both standing beside me in the hallway of the hospital. It was very late at night, and I didn't expect anyone to come. I later went home with Katie and tried to sleep alone through the night (without much success). The next day was one of the hardest of my life. What stands out to me the most, though, is remembering who showed up.

By ten the next morning, about ten of my friends had elected to skip out on church and come sit next to me in the hospital instead. Some sat for an hour, and some sat for two days. My best friend was supposed to leave for Georgia that morning, and I told her that she could go, but she knew me and knew I needed her, and she showed up. My other best friend was on the other end of the state working at a camp, and couldn't get away, but after hours of us crying on the phone, she announced to her supervisor that she was leaving. And a few hours later, she showed up. My best friend from middle school who never came through for me showed up later that afternoon. A friend who was still grieving the death of her father two weeks earlier also showed up. They all came to sit with me in silence. Words were not needed; their presense was. Whether it was two in the afternoon or two in the morning, people just kept showing up. That was what mattered, and that is what I remember.

So when I sit and debate about this funeral tomorrow, I remember how important it was to me that people showed up. I always want to be the person that shows up, and knows that words are not necessary. I pray that I will always have the kind of friends that just show up, because it seems I have been blessed thus far. Death sucks, and it's not an easy thing, and it doesn't always make sense. But we don't have to play strong, and we don't have to stand alone. It's ok to reach for a hand to hold. I'm gonna show up to this memorial service, and I'm gonna hold somebody's hand. Because to me, that's what it's all about. I'll be there, Holly. We will all be there, holding each other's hands, as you stand and watch, holding the hand of Jesus. Rest in peace.

The Beauty Right Behind Me

This weekend we were blessed with weather that hardly ever happens. I mean, it was amazing. And tonight I got the pleasure of sitting on the second level of my back deck and watching the sun set over the huge hills in my subdivision. I truly believe that one of the most amazing things God does is paint the sunsets. He paints them so that we can sit and watch them, and remember how beautiful He is. He paints them so that when life is an unattractive struggle we still have something that takes our breath away that happens every single day.

The last three mornings I have woken up in a bed different than my own with a heavy heart. I'm pretty sure that even if I had woken up in my own bed my heart would have been heavy, but there is significance in the fact that I have been waking up in different places. You see, I'm running. And even though I recognize the fact that I'm running, I have no idea how to stop. I'm not even sure that I want to. When I get in my car to drive away from my life, and God asks me what I'm doing, I just turn the radio up louder. I'm running from the life that God has fashioned for me, because I'm convinced that I know what's best. And man am I wrong.

Change has never been something I was very good at embracing. The idea of letting go of the life I have lived for the last few years breaks my heart, because I'm convinced that life couldn't get any better than it was. God told me to move here, and He went before me and prepared this place. I have amazing roommates (even though they are walking natural disasters, they have great hearts), and I have friends that live within five minutes of me that I really do have a great time with. But I've turned my back to them and shut them out. I go out of my way to avoid having conversations with them, and it makes me nervous when I can't avoid them in situations like church. Unfortunately (or maybe, fortunately) at least one of them is very in tune with what God wants to say through her, and she cornered me in church this morning and told me that what I was doing wasn't ok. I was honest with her and told her that I didn't know what else to say other than that I was doing it on purpose, and I didn't really want to stop. She hugged me and told me that she would be patient with me, but that they weren't going to try anymore if I wasn't going to try, too. She proved it when they all left my house to go play in the park this afternoon and it was clear that I wasn't invited. Ouch.

So now I sit here tonight in the silence that happens in big huge empty houses, and I wonder if they will ever invite me in again. I hate that I made it clear that they weren't good enough to be my friends, because I'm pretty sure I was wrong. They may not be the people I have shared the last three years of my life with, but they were perfectly willing to share the next three years. The hardest misery is misery brought upon oneself, and this is my consequence for running and for my cold heart. I pray that I can learn to let them in, and I pray that I can see how blessed I am to have a group of amazing people standing in front of me and asking to be my friends. It's all a part of moving on. It's all about learning to let go.

Tonight as I returned to my empty house, I looked up and noticed the beauty of the early fall sunset. It gave me warmth within my soul to know that God would still let me glimpse something so beautiful when I am acting so ugly. I am unworthy of the beauty that God hands to me, and yet He thinks I'm worth it anyways. To know He still stands there when I'm running full speed the other way completely blows my mind. So I walk outside and stop to take a deep breath as I glance upward. I thank Him for what He gives me, and I ask Him to help my heart believe that the beauty of His best is really what IS best. The evidence is in the vibrancy of the setting sun over the hills. And oh, are the colors breathtaking.

...He has done for me

I have to admit that for about a week now, my heart has been too bitter to allow me to function properly. I spent the week in hiding, pretty much refusing much social contact. Jesus was working on my heart, and I wasn't allowing it to cause me pain. I hardened my heart. And then last night God showed up in the most unexpected way, at the most unexpected time. I had plans to hang out with a friend of mine that I have known for a while now, and yet never spent one-on-one time with before. We felt it was time, and we made a dinner date. God had bigger plans.

After we ate, we went to grab some dessert before we were going to head back to her apartment and watch a movie. As we were waiting on our dessert, we discovered that we had never really traded life stories, even though we knew bits and pieces about each other, and we thought maybe last night would be a good time for that. We both figured we could accomplish this within about half an hour. We were so wrong. As she began to talk first, I made it a point to practice my listening skills, and became very interested in what she had to say about how God had brought her to this point in her life. She definitely had some surprises for me, but it wasn't until I began to share, too, that the walls were really torn down for both of us and Jesus entered in and joined us at the picnic table we were sharing.

It wasn't until about four months ago that I realized how powerful it is when people are real. I mean the vulnerable, fearless, holding nothing back kind of real. This has never been a strong point for me, because I have major trust issues and my secrets aren't even common knowledge amongst my closest friends. But as I sat talking with this precious friend of mine last night, something in my heart was ready to just bear it all. Something in me told me that she deserved the whole story, complete with the heartaches and pain and darkness. So I shared, and I left no parts out. And as we sat and talked, I realized so much that I had never known about myself and what I've come through and how much my perspective has changed. I found myself realizing God's purposes for some of the things I have been through, and I started to see how strong He has formed my faith to be through the struggles. I was suddenly aware of how much my heart has changed, and how much I have grown. It was beautiful.

As we were nearing the end of my story, I felt compelled to talk about the search for healing that I have been on for a few months now. I often am pretty convinced that I am not the only person walking around desperate for the healing that only Jesus can bring. Last night as I found myself able to be real about my pain, it offered the freedom for my friend to do the same. And there is so much power, so much healing, in being able to share true pain with another. We were able to bring out secrets long hidden that had hardened out hearts, and made us cold. We were able to ask for healing, and find life again. We were able to ask Jesus into the dark places, even though He had been there all along. We found light. We found warmth. And we found freedom.

Tonight as I sat down to spend some time with Jesus, I was reminded of the David Crowder song "Come and Listen". I realized that last night, that was what the conversation all about. Come and listen to what Jesus has done in my life, and allow me to come and listen to what He has done in yours. We have power in our stories, because we have allowed the power of Jesus to change our hearts, change our minds, and change our perspective. Sometimes we forget this, and sometimes we don't know how far we've come or why we've been through what we've been through until we allow ourselves to be real with another, and let the walls fall down. Praise God for his sovereignty in what He allows us to walk through, praise God for healing, and praise God for freedom found only through Him.

Praise our God, for He is good.
He has done for me. He has done for you. He has done for us.