Ok, so disclaimer up front: I haven't really thought this out, so this might be all over the place, or not make sense, or not even reach a conclusion at the end.
In Romans 12:1-2, Paul (an apostle of Christ Jesus) says, "Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God--this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is--his good, pleasing, and perfect will."
In Romans 14, Paul talks about how, despite the fact that no food is unclean in and of itself, some brothers and sisters will still be distressed if they see you eating certain things. For example, munching a ham sandwich in a synagogue would be frowned upon by those around you. Back in the day, people who converted to Christianity had trouble fully letting go of their past lives...oh, wait, we still have that problem. So the Jewish people who converted to Christianity at the outset of the Christian church still adhered to some of the religious tenants of Judaism, including the eating restrictions.
So with these things in mind, here we go...
I've been thinking, maybe this whole "being in the world but not of the world" thing is bigger than I realized. It isn't just not sleeping around, not stumbling around slobbering drunk, not killing people, not lashing out at people, not not not...you get the idea. It's not just avoiding obviously mean or morally questionable things. Some examples I've encountered in the last couple weeks that I never thought of in this light before:
1. A friend of mine who has been a cherished Christian brother in my life for years has developed the habit of cussing when he is mad or when it makes an effective punch line. If you ask him why he lets himself do this, he makes a convincing and effective argument about the fact that they are just words, that the disciples and people in the Bible probably didn't have the "cleanest" mouths (they were a bunch of working class guys, after all), and that it makes him more approachable to those who don't know the Lord.
But here's the thing: a lot of people, Christians and non-Christians alike, will judge him unfairly because of that. Many Christians will question his devotion to the Lord, or in the extreme, even his salvation. Is that fair? No, of course it isn't. Many non-Christians will fail to see the difference between him and themselves. Is that accurate? No, he is very different. But many people will perceive him badly because of it.
"I don't care what people think," might be what my friend would say to me. Well, good for you, but God does. We are vessels of his Son, and even if you have a valid argument for allowing yourself to cuss, ultimately it will cause your brothers and sisters in Christ (not all, but some) to stumble; they will judge you, and not be able to share in Christ with you as effectively as they would if you didn't cuss. The non-Christians will stumble as well, and unfortunately they'll be stumbling on their way to Jesus.
2. A couple weeks ago, I talked to a guy who said he looked forward to being married, not only because he wants to find a woman who he loves to be his wife, but also because then he can do child care at church or play with young kids without people questioning his motives. Somehow, when a guy has kids, he automatically becomes small-kid-safe. This guy loves kids, loves to play with them and love on them and show them the love of Jesus, but unfortunately he has encountered suspicion in the past about his intentions toward young kids. That is a sad and terrible thing, and a grim picture of the world we live in.
So what should he do? My first instinct was, "You love kids, you have nothing but the best intentions, so screw what people think, you're not doing anything wrong. Keep it up, kids need strong male figures in their lives." But I don't think that's right. It's not completely right, I should say. If the parents of the kid know and trust him, or he is a part of an organized effort like coaching baseball through the Boys and Girls Club, or something like that, then he can minister to kids within safe confines and a positive environment.
But he should be very cautious, because the last thing he wants is for people to know he is a Christian and then to subsequently think he is a pervert. Is it possible that he'll get screwed some day anyway, and someone will falsely accuse him? Sure, but he shouldn't invite that possibility. We have to do what we can in this world because when people perceive us, to some extent, they are also perceiving Christ.
3. Ok, time to get personal: I am an affectionate person, and for me, that often manifests in physical touch: hugs, squeezing someone's hand, touching a person's hand or leg or shoulder when I speak to him or her, even kisses on the cheek sometimes.
Unfortunately, in this day and age, people often misconstrue physical touch. And even if they aren't misunderstanding my intentions, they are still uncomfortable simply because it invades their personal space. In society today, especially in America, people don't like to be touched frequently. It puts them off, even if only for a second.
My natural reaction to this is, "Well, it's just the way I am, and I'm only loving on people, so what's the problem?" The problem is it makes others uncomfortable, or makes them think I mean more in my gestures then I do. So what should I do? Like the example in number 2, I have to be cautious and considerate. I should figure out what level of physical touch people appreciate, and it is different with everyone. That's part of my challenge: in my life, I've been around people who give me a big hug and a kiss when they see me, and other people who only greet with a smile. Neither is wrong, they're just different. What I need to learn is not to feel slighted when all I get is the latter, and to know when what people want or need is a big hug, and when all they want or need is a kind word and a reassuring look.
One last example...last night, I saw a production of The Diary of Anne Frank. Spoiler alert! The Nazis find them in the end, after the family has been hiding for over two years, and all but the father eventually die. When I got back to my dorm, I was discussing the show with a friend, and I commented simply, "Nazis suck."
I don't think there is anyone in the world who would dane to refute that point. It's a pretty universally felt sentiment. I've never actually heard a person say, "You're not a very good Christian because you hate Nazis." It just isn't a common arguement.
But the truth is hate is hate, and it's wrong. Jesus died for every single Nazi, and for Hitler, just as much as he did for me, and he loved them just as much as he does me, and repentance was as available and complete for them as it is for me.
My point is that there are things in this world that are justifiable or even purely good, but just because we know that doesn't mean everyone does, and if it is going to cause people to stumble, we should tread lightly (remember Romans 14). Just because we are not of this world doesn't mean we don't still have to live in this world, and sometimes we may have to be restrained because of the corruptness of this world so that the love of Jesus can be revealed in people's lives (remember Romans 12).
But also, sometimes bad things are going to be thought about people in the Body (particularly in cases like examples 2 and 3), and in those instances we just have to take heart that Jesus loves and understands us.
And like in example 4, sometimes we are going to do things that seem completely right to us and to the world, but as unconceivable as it might be, that's not what Jesus would have us do, and so we have to continually seek his heart.
I think that's the point of all of this: we need Jesus' heart for the world. Jesus wouldn't ever get up on a soapbox at the expense of people and their understanding of God's love (as was the tendency in examples 1, 2, and 3). Love is his goal. But he doesn't force his love on people, and he doesn't only express it in one way. And despite the temptation, Jesus avoided cussing or condemning even the worst of sinners (he had some harsh words for religious hypocrites, but that's another blog for another time), and why? Because those things would contradict who he is, and because he lives in us, they contradict who we are in Him.
Why did I write this? I don't know. Will anyone read it, or take anything away from it? I don't know that either. I don't know a lot of things, but what I do know is that I want Jesus' heart of love so that I can love Him and other people, and so I can have mercy and grace for everyone, including myself.
So my prayer today is simply this: "Jesus, give me more of your heart! Give me more of your mind! I want to know you! And I want to enter into your rest, trusting that you live in me, and that all that I am, all that is good in me, is from you. Help me to know you more, and to have your peace which surpasses understanding. In Jesus' name, amen."
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Grace so amazing!
So tonight as I went to sleep, I was crying out to Jesus to help me because I felt like I was failing to live in the freedom from sin that He died to provide me with. In other words, I felt like despite my freedom and new life and salvation in Jesus, I was still acting like a sinner who had not been redeemed. I do the same things wrong over and over again, even when I know they're wrong. "How can you possibly still forgive me, Lord? It's not like I'm a sinner who is continuing to sin. I understand your grace for them. But I'm already saved! How can you still love me when I am in a relationship with you, but I keep ignoring this gift of salvation and freedom that you sacrificed yourself so I could have. How selfish and cruel!"
Then when I woke up, I read Hebrews 9 and 10. Hebrews 10:19-23 says, "Therefore, brother, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great high priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful."
This brought me comfort and hope! I reminded me that I am free from a guilty conscience, and this coupled with Romans 7, where Paul discusses his struggle with sin even after salvation, made me confident that I am still firmly in Jesus and have nothing to worry about. Until I continued reading in Hebrews, that is.
Hebrews 10:26-31: "If we deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth, no sacrifice for sins in left, but only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God. Anyone who rejected the law of Moses died without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses. How much more severely do you think a man deserves to be punished who has trampled the Son of God under foot, who has treated as an unholy thing the blood of the covenant that sanctified him, and who has insulted the Spirit of grace? For we know him who said, "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," and again, "The Lord will judge his people." It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God."
Uh oh. Do I not fall into the category of people who "deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth"? I sat there for a long time, not praying really, except to tell the Lord that I was staying available for Him to speak. I believe during this half and hour or so of sitting, God directed my attention to the phrase "deliberately keep on sinning." Ok, what does that mean? It doesn't say, "people who deliberately sin" after receiving knowledge of the the truth, because that could be an isolated occurrence, or sever isolated occurrences, but rather people who "keep on sinning." The latter implies that the person never repents, but is continually rejecting the truth. The former could be a person like me, who is saved, who has repented and accepted forgiveness, but still sins. However, I am always brought back to repentance, sometimes even in the midst of sinning I know I am going to end up before the Lord in repentance. Ah ha!
The passage is speaking of those who never repent of their sins. God gives you your whole life to repent, and if you don't, then you are subject to the punishment described in the passage. The next thing I thought was, "Oy, that sounds harsh." But then I thought about it: let's say you're walking down the street, and someone starting shooting at you. Before the bullets reach you, someone jumps in front of the bullets and dies instead. The shooter, defeated, runs off. The person who saved you writhes there on the ground, dying slowing, but all the while smiling up at you with love. Eventually, he dies. You wait, and after some times has passed, the person stands up again, miraculously alive and free of bullets, although the holes are still visible--clearly this is the same person who just got peppered with gun fire for you. He says to you, "I have a miraculous new life, and I want you to share that life with me. Let's be friends." Your reply? "No thanks, I'd prefer we never speak. I don't want to see you, I'm just going to pretend you don't exist."
Most people would call you an ungrateful jerk. Actually, most people would call you something a lot worse than that. Now add this in: for whatever reason, you deserved to get shot. I know what you're thinking, "Moi?" Yeah, you. Let's say you absolutely, 100% had it coming. You might be saying, "But I don't think anyone ever deserves to die, no matter how despicable." Well, the Bible says that the wages of sin is death. God is holy and perfect, and can't be in the presence of sin. It is contrary to His nature. You might think that is narrow-minded or overly-conservative, but the fact is, it doesn't matter what you think. You're not God. God says sin is punishable by death, and that's that.
However, he is not only a just God, he is a loving God. Jesus was fully God, but he actually humbled himself and became obedient unto death so that you and I could have forgiveness and new life with him. The creator of the universe did that for you and me. Think about hurricanes and earthquakes and volcanoes: these are things that we as humans cannot conquer, we can just run away to try to avoid the damage. These are things God created, and he alone is the master of, and that's only on the Earth. So think about how huge the whole universe is. He created all of that, he was master of it all, but he made himself the lowest of human beings, subject to temptation and hardship and cold and hunger and ultimately a gruesome death that every single person on earth deserved except him. And he did it all, so that when he was resurrected, he could offer us new life, and have a relationship with him.
So when you say no to that, it will be a "dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God."
I am not perfect. No Christian is, no matter how we may act sometimes. But even as I stumble, and even as often as I do, I am still made perfect through Christ. Hebrews 10:13 says, "...by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy." The work of Jesus' death is both an instantaneous one and a continual one. I have received the forgiveness that is instant, and now I am undergoing the continuous process of being made holy by his sacrifice. Thank you, Jesus, for being willing to work in me every day the reality of freedom and life that your death and resurrection secured for me! You are a merciful, wonderful Savior and Friend, and I love you!
If you're reading this and you have yet to accept Jesus' free gift of forgiveness and life, now is the time. At the end of your life, if you have not received his forgiveness, there is nothing you can do for yourself anymore. I know I risk sounding like the nay-saying Bible thumpers that shout down students at the public universities who we all avoid or mock, but this is the truth: without accepting Jesus' forgiveness, you doom yourself to eternal damnation. Eternity apart from God is the penalty for not accepting his opportunity for purification.
But beyond that, life in Jesus on earth means freedom and joy and life and love and community that you cannot possibly get elsewhere. I know it may seem like it, and sadly for some it is, but the reality of being a Christian is not a grim, rigid, religious existence. I have had more fun than I can express with my Christian family, and sometimes that's just sitting over a meal joking or watching a movie together. But the familial bond that exists between Christians who have never even met speaks to the truth and reality of the lives we live in Jesus. We are knit together in Him! And he is our comfort and hope when life is hard, and our joy and song every day.
I've had a rough last year and a half. Often I've cried out to God saying I feel like a hypocrite because I don't feel the hope or comfort that I profess can be had in Jesus, and when I say often, I mean as recently as last night. But honestly, the reality is that the worst place I can be in Jesus is still better than the best place I could be without him. And I know that to be true. He is comforting me and protecting me and loving me, even if I don't feel it. If I don't feel it, it is only because he has been doing it for so long that I can't fathom what life would be without it. He is there, and He is wonderful, and I trust Him.
If you haven't accepted Jesus into your life as your Savior, or you're not sure, you can do it where you are right now. Jesus is waiting. The beautiful thing about Jesus is, even after he jumped in front of those bullets and we rejected him anyway, he is not hurt or angry. He loves you the same! And the moment you decide to come to him, you will be welcomed in love. Romans 10:9 says, "If you confess with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved." In other words, all you have to do is believe in him, and say so. He is waiting to receive you.
If you have questions, or comments, or anything therein, feel free to ask. Far from having all the answers, I probably have more questions than anything, but it is ok not to have all the answers (in fact it is inevitable), as long as you trust in Jesus.
He loves you, and he wants you. I am praying for you, whoever you are, whether or not you are in Jesus already. Be blessed in Jesus. Take comfort and rest in Him, and I'll do the same.
Love in Him,
Lindsey
Then when I woke up, I read Hebrews 9 and 10. Hebrews 10:19-23 says, "Therefore, brother, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great high priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful."
This brought me comfort and hope! I reminded me that I am free from a guilty conscience, and this coupled with Romans 7, where Paul discusses his struggle with sin even after salvation, made me confident that I am still firmly in Jesus and have nothing to worry about. Until I continued reading in Hebrews, that is.
Hebrews 10:26-31: "If we deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth, no sacrifice for sins in left, but only a fearful expectation of judgment and of raging fire that will consume the enemies of God. Anyone who rejected the law of Moses died without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses. How much more severely do you think a man deserves to be punished who has trampled the Son of God under foot, who has treated as an unholy thing the blood of the covenant that sanctified him, and who has insulted the Spirit of grace? For we know him who said, "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," and again, "The Lord will judge his people." It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God."
Uh oh. Do I not fall into the category of people who "deliberately keep on sinning after we have received the knowledge of the truth"? I sat there for a long time, not praying really, except to tell the Lord that I was staying available for Him to speak. I believe during this half and hour or so of sitting, God directed my attention to the phrase "deliberately keep on sinning." Ok, what does that mean? It doesn't say, "people who deliberately sin" after receiving knowledge of the the truth, because that could be an isolated occurrence, or sever isolated occurrences, but rather people who "keep on sinning." The latter implies that the person never repents, but is continually rejecting the truth. The former could be a person like me, who is saved, who has repented and accepted forgiveness, but still sins. However, I am always brought back to repentance, sometimes even in the midst of sinning I know I am going to end up before the Lord in repentance. Ah ha!
The passage is speaking of those who never repent of their sins. God gives you your whole life to repent, and if you don't, then you are subject to the punishment described in the passage. The next thing I thought was, "Oy, that sounds harsh." But then I thought about it: let's say you're walking down the street, and someone starting shooting at you. Before the bullets reach you, someone jumps in front of the bullets and dies instead. The shooter, defeated, runs off. The person who saved you writhes there on the ground, dying slowing, but all the while smiling up at you with love. Eventually, he dies. You wait, and after some times has passed, the person stands up again, miraculously alive and free of bullets, although the holes are still visible--clearly this is the same person who just got peppered with gun fire for you. He says to you, "I have a miraculous new life, and I want you to share that life with me. Let's be friends." Your reply? "No thanks, I'd prefer we never speak. I don't want to see you, I'm just going to pretend you don't exist."
Most people would call you an ungrateful jerk. Actually, most people would call you something a lot worse than that. Now add this in: for whatever reason, you deserved to get shot. I know what you're thinking, "Moi?" Yeah, you. Let's say you absolutely, 100% had it coming. You might be saying, "But I don't think anyone ever deserves to die, no matter how despicable." Well, the Bible says that the wages of sin is death. God is holy and perfect, and can't be in the presence of sin. It is contrary to His nature. You might think that is narrow-minded or overly-conservative, but the fact is, it doesn't matter what you think. You're not God. God says sin is punishable by death, and that's that.
However, he is not only a just God, he is a loving God. Jesus was fully God, but he actually humbled himself and became obedient unto death so that you and I could have forgiveness and new life with him. The creator of the universe did that for you and me. Think about hurricanes and earthquakes and volcanoes: these are things that we as humans cannot conquer, we can just run away to try to avoid the damage. These are things God created, and he alone is the master of, and that's only on the Earth. So think about how huge the whole universe is. He created all of that, he was master of it all, but he made himself the lowest of human beings, subject to temptation and hardship and cold and hunger and ultimately a gruesome death that every single person on earth deserved except him. And he did it all, so that when he was resurrected, he could offer us new life, and have a relationship with him.
So when you say no to that, it will be a "dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God."
I am not perfect. No Christian is, no matter how we may act sometimes. But even as I stumble, and even as often as I do, I am still made perfect through Christ. Hebrews 10:13 says, "...by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy." The work of Jesus' death is both an instantaneous one and a continual one. I have received the forgiveness that is instant, and now I am undergoing the continuous process of being made holy by his sacrifice. Thank you, Jesus, for being willing to work in me every day the reality of freedom and life that your death and resurrection secured for me! You are a merciful, wonderful Savior and Friend, and I love you!
If you're reading this and you have yet to accept Jesus' free gift of forgiveness and life, now is the time. At the end of your life, if you have not received his forgiveness, there is nothing you can do for yourself anymore. I know I risk sounding like the nay-saying Bible thumpers that shout down students at the public universities who we all avoid or mock, but this is the truth: without accepting Jesus' forgiveness, you doom yourself to eternal damnation. Eternity apart from God is the penalty for not accepting his opportunity for purification.
But beyond that, life in Jesus on earth means freedom and joy and life and love and community that you cannot possibly get elsewhere. I know it may seem like it, and sadly for some it is, but the reality of being a Christian is not a grim, rigid, religious existence. I have had more fun than I can express with my Christian family, and sometimes that's just sitting over a meal joking or watching a movie together. But the familial bond that exists between Christians who have never even met speaks to the truth and reality of the lives we live in Jesus. We are knit together in Him! And he is our comfort and hope when life is hard, and our joy and song every day.
I've had a rough last year and a half. Often I've cried out to God saying I feel like a hypocrite because I don't feel the hope or comfort that I profess can be had in Jesus, and when I say often, I mean as recently as last night. But honestly, the reality is that the worst place I can be in Jesus is still better than the best place I could be without him. And I know that to be true. He is comforting me and protecting me and loving me, even if I don't feel it. If I don't feel it, it is only because he has been doing it for so long that I can't fathom what life would be without it. He is there, and He is wonderful, and I trust Him.
If you haven't accepted Jesus into your life as your Savior, or you're not sure, you can do it where you are right now. Jesus is waiting. The beautiful thing about Jesus is, even after he jumped in front of those bullets and we rejected him anyway, he is not hurt or angry. He loves you the same! And the moment you decide to come to him, you will be welcomed in love. Romans 10:9 says, "If you confess with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved." In other words, all you have to do is believe in him, and say so. He is waiting to receive you.
If you have questions, or comments, or anything therein, feel free to ask. Far from having all the answers, I probably have more questions than anything, but it is ok not to have all the answers (in fact it is inevitable), as long as you trust in Jesus.
He loves you, and he wants you. I am praying for you, whoever you are, whether or not you are in Jesus already. Be blessed in Jesus. Take comfort and rest in Him, and I'll do the same.
Love in Him,
Lindsey
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
What love is this?
I said this in the facebook group description, but I'll say it again: if you want to post your prayer requests, comments, questions, musings, or whatever else concerning Jesus on the facebook Wall or as a comment on the facebook thread (I'll post all of these entries on facebook as well), then that is fine. Posting through the blogspot allows you to be anonymous, so if that is something you desire, this is here for you. Also, if you simply prefer one over the other, you have options.
Also, please feel free to pray yourself! If you have something that you want to pray, please do so. This is not a one man show. Actually, it is, and that one man is Jesus. So pray, and we'll pray with you!
With that being said, let's dive into Jesus.
Lord Jesus, I come before you now, asking first that I would not pray out of my own understanding or out of my own strength. I need you, Jesus. My faith is so often so small, I have such trouble putting my trust and hope in you. I've glorified friendships and ambitions and my own future above knowing you, Jesus. Thank you that you see me as I am, and you love me the same. Thank you Jesus that when you look at me, your heart swells with love, and you say, "You are worth everything to me, and nothing you do or don't do will change that." Jesus, I want to know you more! I want to know this love that surpasses understanding, that is so beyond my love! I want to love people the way you love them, and Jesus I pray that you would reveal to our hearts daily how powerful and complete and unchanging your love is for us. For those who don't know you, I pray that their hearts would be softened, and that they would be moved to repentance because of this great love, that while we were still sinners, you died for us! Reveal yourself to hearts that don't know you, and reveal yourself even more to hearts that do know you! We just want to be with you Jesus, and to know you as you desire to be known by us -- a deep, wonderful relationship with you. Help us to trust you, help us to rest in you, and help us to know you in our hearts more and more each day. Thank you for all you have blessed us with, and thank you that you use all things for our good according to your perfect will. Thank you that we can trust you, and thank you that we can return to you after every time we don't. Blessed be your name, Jesus! All honor and glory unto you! You are worthy, you are awesome, and we love you! In your mighty Name we pray, Jesus. Amen.
"I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge--that you may be filled to the measure of all fullness of God." --Ephesians 3:16-21
Also, please feel free to pray yourself! If you have something that you want to pray, please do so. This is not a one man show. Actually, it is, and that one man is Jesus. So pray, and we'll pray with you!
With that being said, let's dive into Jesus.
Lord Jesus, I come before you now, asking first that I would not pray out of my own understanding or out of my own strength. I need you, Jesus. My faith is so often so small, I have such trouble putting my trust and hope in you. I've glorified friendships and ambitions and my own future above knowing you, Jesus. Thank you that you see me as I am, and you love me the same. Thank you Jesus that when you look at me, your heart swells with love, and you say, "You are worth everything to me, and nothing you do or don't do will change that." Jesus, I want to know you more! I want to know this love that surpasses understanding, that is so beyond my love! I want to love people the way you love them, and Jesus I pray that you would reveal to our hearts daily how powerful and complete and unchanging your love is for us. For those who don't know you, I pray that their hearts would be softened, and that they would be moved to repentance because of this great love, that while we were still sinners, you died for us! Reveal yourself to hearts that don't know you, and reveal yourself even more to hearts that do know you! We just want to be with you Jesus, and to know you as you desire to be known by us -- a deep, wonderful relationship with you. Help us to trust you, help us to rest in you, and help us to know you in our hearts more and more each day. Thank you for all you have blessed us with, and thank you that you use all things for our good according to your perfect will. Thank you that we can trust you, and thank you that we can return to you after every time we don't. Blessed be your name, Jesus! All honor and glory unto you! You are worthy, you are awesome, and we love you! In your mighty Name we pray, Jesus. Amen.
"I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge--that you may be filled to the measure of all fullness of God." --Ephesians 3:16-21
A NEW PURPOSE for this blog: prayer and study
Hey there! So previously this blog was essentially my personal online journal, but no longer. Now if you want to see what I'm up to or what I'm writing, check out my other blog, Pura Vida.
This blog, however, is where I'll post my thoughts/questions/musings on the Bible and other teachings.
Additionally, I'll post prayers for my own life and for the lives of those God puts on my heart.
I encourage you to post comments with your prayer requests, with or without your name and the names of people involved, and I'll pray for those situations in the next post.
For those who are followers of Jesus, we are all members of the Body, and praying for one another is the best way to build each other up.
Later today, I'll start off with my own prayer requests. Whether or not you believe in God, whether or not you ever pray, everyone has things in life that are hard, and I would be blessed to lift you up in prayer.
"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." --1st Thessalonians 5:28
In Him,
Lindsey
This blog, however, is where I'll post my thoughts/questions/musings on the Bible and other teachings.
Additionally, I'll post prayers for my own life and for the lives of those God puts on my heart.
I encourage you to post comments with your prayer requests, with or without your name and the names of people involved, and I'll pray for those situations in the next post.
For those who are followers of Jesus, we are all members of the Body, and praying for one another is the best way to build each other up.
Later today, I'll start off with my own prayer requests. Whether or not you believe in God, whether or not you ever pray, everyone has things in life that are hard, and I would be blessed to lift you up in prayer.
"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." --1st Thessalonians 5:28
In Him,
Lindsey
Monday, December 1, 2008
Don't get your hopes up...
I'm not really posting. What I need is for you (yes, all of you, because the only people who read this are my close friends) to read this following narrative/personal inquiry and respond to it in the comments section.
Ok, so here's the deal: this thing is kind of long. I'm sure you've noticed that by now. If you don't have time to read it, I understand. No big deal. However, if you can and are willing, I would be very grateful.
Disclaimer: I have reservastions about posting this because it so personally examines me, and it involves Kris and Em. You two better know that I love everything about both of you, and this paper is supposed to be a commentary/exploration of me and me alone.
Anyway, without further ado, here it is:
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Journal entry
Dear journal:
Today was a wonderful day, until now. I hate the walk back to the dorm after rehearsal. For some reason I get contemplative, and my post-rehearsal musings have ruined many an otherwise lovely day. Apparently today is no exception. Tonight’s musings carried me back to this afternoon’s juggling practice. So, I guess its story time. Once upon a time, in a land of college students, frequent Spanish speaking, and non-indigenous palm trees, there lived a young woman, and she was learning, among other things, the art of juggling…
“Hey Mark, are you using these right now?”
“Nope, go for it.”
“Thanks. I haven’t practiced all week.”
“Didn’t you get some clubs for your birthday?”
“Yeah, but they’re really cheap, so I just left them at my house in Gilbert.”
“I’m sure someone here could scrounge up three for you if you want to practice during the week.”
“That would be great! Thanks Mark. I’ve just been doing three ball tricks during the week. I still don’t have the reverse cascade. The balls keep hitting each other.”
“It’ll come. You just have to keep trying. One time it’ll just click.”
“Yeah. I’ll keep at it.” I walked over to Mark’s gear and picked up his clubs.
“You hit yourself in the head yet?” he asked.
“Oh yeah, but at this point I can usually get my head out of the way.” Mark smiled and turned to juggle his other clubs, and I breathed a deep breath before clumsily throwing the first club into the pattern.
“Hey, how long have you been doing clubs?” Leah inquired.
“A couple weeks,” I replied.
“Wow, last time I was here, weren’t you just starting balls?”
“Yeah, well I’ve known the basic cascade since April, but everything else I started learning when you saw me last.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job.”
“Wow, thank you!” At this point, Dave asked Leah where she had been the last few weeks, and I turned my attention back to the clubs, grinning with satisfaction. My first toss was solid, my second toss too low, and my third outside of the pattern completely. I frowned. “Such improvement!” I thought to myself. Scanning the jugglers around me, I thought, “This is demoralizing. I’ll never be able to do that. Why do I even try?” I sighed and gazed down at the clubs in my hands. After a moment, I looked up, pursed my lips, inhaled and exhaled slowly through my nose, bent my knees slightly, and began my haphazard three-club pattern yet again. Practice makes perfect, after all.
An hour later, I heard the campus bells ring out, indicating it was 5:45 pm. “Oh, I have to go! I have to get dinner and go to play rehearsal.” Miraculously, I arrived at rehearsal with a minute to spare, despite the sloth-like pace of the Chickfila personnel that prepared my order. Rehearsal proceeded as usual, and although there were no mishaps, I approached my director afterwards to address something that bothered me. “Karole, can I ask you something?”
“Sure sweetie, what’s up?”
“I was wondering if you have any advice for me on how to be a queen. I’ve been working on it, but some things just don’t feel like Queen Gertrude just yet, and I’m not always sure what a queen would and would not do.”
She nodded understandingly, thought for a moment, and then began, “Well, you’re smoothing her out a little every time. And you carry yourself like a queen, and you speak like a queen—you know, welcoming and kind but sharp when you don’t get what you want. I don’t know, I could pay closer attention, but I think it’s all good. Your costume will help get rid of some of your not feeling queenly, and the rest is just you playing with the lines until they feel right.” By now we were walking out the door and were fixing to go our separate ways.
“Alright,” I said. She tilted her head, and examined my face.
“You’re doing fine,” she said tenderly.
“Thanks…”
“Really, you’re doing fine,” she reassured me.
“Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow, Karole,” I said, turning to go as her elevator opened and she stepped in. “Why can’t I just be happy with my acting?” I questioned aloud once outside. “Gah, I am pathetic! No one likes an unconfident actor! Snap out of it, Lindsey, seriously!” I felt nauseous and dizzy, my temples pulsated and my stomach churned. My escalating tirade was abruptly interrupted when my phone rang. I started at the sound. Then, glancing at the caller ID, I rolled my eyes and smiled. “How does she always know when to call?” I wondered to myself. “Hey, Kristen.”
“Hi Lindsey! “How are you?”
“I’m doing ok.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Man, I hate that she understands my euphemisms.” I thought to myself. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m just frustrated with myself again.”
“How come?”
“Well, I haven’t been feeling great about the work I’m doing as Queen Gertrude lately—not bad, just not stellar—and so I asked my director for advice and she didn’t really have any to give me but she told me I am doing fine.”
“So you’re doing fine. What’s the problem?”
“Well, I’m only doing fine, for one thing, but she doesn’t have any suggestions for making it better than fine. And it just seemed like she knew I was feeling insecure and that’s why she told me I’m doing fine. I mean, she did say that I’m doing a little better each time, and that I walk and talk pretty much like a queen but…oh, I don’t know. I was fishing for compliments again, and I hate it when I do that.”
“You keep telling me that you fish for compliments all the time, but I don’t see that. What do you mean?”
“Oh, I insult myself or downplay everything I do to hear people tell me I’m doing great…I can’t believe you don’t know that, I do it to you all the time. I guess you just don’t notice.”
“Well, why do you do that if you don’t want to?”
“I don’t know…I don’t know where it all comes from…I just wish it would go away.” My voice trailed off, and I fell silent. I was afraid to keep talking. I thought that if I did, soon I would be fishing for compliments by lamenting the fact that I fish for compliments, and that is an ironic level of pathetic that I wanted to avoid.
“Are you still there?” Kristen asked softly.
“Yeah, I’m just thinking.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“I was thinking about something that happened during rehearsal for Twelfth Night sophomore year.”
“You gonna tell me what it is?”
“Sure. We were recently off-book and rehearsing without our scripts, which means we started making more drastic character choices. You know, playing with the lines, defining our physicality, establishing chemistry with others on stage, and so on. And at the end of rehearsal every day, Ms. Biederman would give us notes. And one of the only notes she gave me was, ‘Lindsey, stop looking at me.’
I knew exactly what she was talking about, but I pretended to be confused and responded, ‘What do you mean?’
Of course she gave me the answer I expected, ‘Every time you say a line or make a decision, you look at me to see if I reacted or approved. You are the character. Just be the character, don’t look at me for endorsement.’
I smiled at her and diligently took down the note like a good actor should, but honestly, when she said that, my heart stopped for a moment. I felt like I was going to throw up. I couldn’t believe someone caught me being honestly, inexcusably self-conscious. It was the first time it manifested without me being in control, or without me masking it as a light dig at myself or misplaced modesty or something. It freaked me out.” Suddenly I didn’t want to talk anymore.
“Lindsey, are you there?”
“I’m here. Hey, I’m pretty tired. I think I’m just gonna go to bed. I’m totally fine, don’t worry about me. Just my usual self-deprecating tendencies. Nothing new. No worries, Kris, I really am fine. Please don’t worry about me, because I know you will, and you really don’t have to.” Lies, all lies…but I needed to think. “For once, deal with your own issues! Your issue is always looking for other people’s advice, for goodness sake! How do you expect to fix that by talking to someone else? It’s ludicrous!”
“Ok, Lindsey. I’ll talk to you later then, ok?”
“Yeah, for sure. Of course, Kris, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Alright. I love you!”
“I love you too, Kris. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
I hung up the phone, and plopped down on a concrete bench near my dorm house. The area was quiet, with distant voices and cricket chirps warding off the eerie silence of night. A tree draped overhead, and the small leaves speckled the seat of the bench. It seemed a good place to think, so I set aside my backpack, turned off my phone, and settled in. “Why do I do this to myself?” I wondered helplessly. “What makes me so bent on being dissatisfied with everything I do?” I realized that I was being hard on myself for being hard on myself, and that would lead me no where positive. So instead of continuing down the path of self-reprimand, I forced myself to remember something good about myself. The first example that came to mind was the variety show.
Countless hours, a couple nervous breakdowns, and many, many post-it notes later, I managed to instigate, organize, promote, and host “A Night of Heroes: a Charity Variety Show” almost entirely by myself, even as a mere eleventh grader. Mr. Jordan had no faith in me, which is why he removed his support and the support of drama club, and almost caused the ruin of the entire thing. He was irritated to discover I found new sponsorship for the show, even after he went to another organization to finagle a promise not to lend their support (he underestimated my abilities). Consequently, his best friend Brian, the auditorium manager (who had to work the light and sound cues for my show as a part of his job), shared Mr. Jordan’s disdain for my endeavor. I remember one incident particularly clearly:
“Lindsey, I need to talk to you,” Brian said to me sharply. I stifled my disinclination to speak to him, and patiently accompanied him to the side of the stage.
“I can’t do anything with these,” he snapped, sweeping his arm angrily to gesture at the microphones lying on the floor.
“What do you mean?” I inquired, straining to appear calm. “These are the microphones you told me you needed for Advanced Vocal. These are what the choir director gave me.”
“I need the chords,” he said, as if everyone in the universe understood his unspoken needs except me.
“Where are the chords?”
“In the choir room.” Of course they were. The choir director had made it expressly clear that she was leaving early and was not coming back. Now it was 5 o’clock in the evening, the show was two hours away, and my opening act had no microphones.
“Do you have a key to the choir room?”
“Yes.”
“Can we go in there and get the chords, then?”
“No, they’re in the closet, and no one has a key to that except Miss Flint.”
“Uhh…ok, I’ll see what I can do.” I hurried out into the hallway and began to pray, “God, I don’t know what to do. Please, please, please help me.” At that moment, I turned the corner, glancing into the choir room as I passed by. Inside was a small, wrinkled Oriental woman eating dinner alone. “No way…” I knocked frantically on the door. She jumped in her seat, turned to see my eager face through the small window, got up, and opened the door.
“Can I help you?” she asked in a melodic tone.
“Do you have a key to that room?” I asked, pointing at the choir room closet.
“No, only head custodian have a key for there,” she explained.
“Who is the head custodian?”
“Bob.”
“Is Bob here?”
“Yes,” she replied gaily.
“Can you take me to him?” I asked, trying to suppress my giddiness until the chords were in my hands. Without saying anything, she smiled wide and led the way. After meeting Bob and quickly explaining my quandary, he gladly accompanied me back to the choir room and opened the door. Instead of retrieving the chords myself, I found Brian. “The door is open. Could you come with me and get whatever you need?” I cooed when I saw him. Appearing dumbfounded and slightly perturbed, he followed me to the room and got the chords.
“See?” I thought to myself, shifting into a cross-legged position on the bench. “Without my constant persistence, the variety show never would have happened.” For a moment I was satisfied. Unfortunately, I could not dismiss the issue so easily. “So why this confidence deficiency? If I am able to persevere in spite of obstacles in my path, like with juggling or the variety show, then why do I constantly long for overt, unmistakable, resounding affirmation from others? Why the unrelenting need for compliments? What moved me to ask Karole those questions? What caused me to unknowingly glance at Ms. Biederman’s face during rehearsals? And why are some compliments not good enough? Why were Leah’s and Karole’s compliments insufficient for me? Have I always been this way?” A breeze began to blow as I sat on the bench, struggling to recount a moment in my past that displayed the persistence with which I now attack everything in life, including myself. I drew my knees up to my chest, resting my chin between them, and let out a single shudder before adjusting to the cold and returning to my thoughts. “What about elementary school?” Nothing sprung to mind. “Maybe it wasn’t there yet…but then when?” As I mused over this point, I finally summoned one incident in the 5th grade, a story lovingly titled by those who have heard it, “The Band Aid Story.”
“Mr. Amerson, may I have a band aid?” I asked after he called on me.
“No.” He turned away and continued teaching.
“Is he serious? All I want is a band aid! Maybe he didn’t hear me…”
“Mr. Amerson,” I began again after he called on me, “can I have a band aid for my finger?”
“No.” Again he turned back to the lesson on the board. I raised my hand again.
“Can I have a band aid?” I asked after he called on me for the third time.
“No, Lindsey.”
“But…” I was cut off as he abruptly turned the other way. At this point my finger had lost hope of receiving a band aid and clotted itself, but it was the principle of the thing. I raised my hand again, wondering if he would call on me at all. For whatever reason, he did.
“Mr. Amerson, can I please have a band aid?”
“Lindsey, let’s say you’re a girl scout, and you are on a hike with them and you trip and scrape your knee. Now are you going to tough it out and keep going, or are you going to stop everything to ask for a band aid?” Without taking even a moment to think, I planted my hands firmly on the desk, looked him straight in the eye, and said,
“I’m going to stop and ask for a band aid.” He glared at me, and then quickly diverted his angry stare to the class, effectively silencing their giggles. Then, his head cocked and shoulders clenched by his ears, he walked back to the front of the classroom. A moment later, my arm was again in the air. Without a word, he marched over to his desk, opened a drawer, removed something, approached my desk, and set in front of me a band aid. With a slight air of triumph, I said sweetly, “Thank you.”
As my recollection ended, I felt a sudden chill, but the tree didn’t rustle, the leaves didn’t swirl, and it wasn’t cold outside. “When I got that band aid from Mr. Amerson, I got what I wanted—I accomplished my goal—but at a price. Now in various ways, I require band aids from people in order to feel accomplished in and of myself. Other people…the things I do are all defined by other people. I have reached the point where I need validation to confirm that whatever I am doing is correct, or that I am doing a good job. I need to get the band aid from people to prove that I needed the band aid. And I imagine my ideal band aid, inevitably setting the bar inordinately high, so that most compliments fall short of what I desired, and just make me feel worse! Consequently, I prolong every band aid request. Additionally, I have created a safety net for myself so that, if I am ever unable to pursue perfect correctness—if I ever stop asking others for band aids—then people know something is wrong, and the band aids are offered freely in droves. Like when I began college, I was incapable of mustering enthusiasm toward anything, and people recognized such a change in me that they rushed to offer their band aids…
“You’re strong, Lindsey. You’ll be just fine.” –Mom
“You can come home whenever you want.” –Dad
“I just wish I could make you feel better like you always make me feel better.” –Kristen
“You will make your best friends in college.” –Beth
“I know how you feel, Linds, but at least we’ll always be best friends.” –Emily
“How are you doing in college? Better?” –Jan
“Depression is not an uncommon thing, and there is no shame in getting help.” –Michal Ann
“I understand. It’ll get better.” –A slew of people
“Let’s bring this to Jesus together.” –Kelly
Wait…that last one wasn’t much of a band aid, but it stopped the bleeding. What Kelly said didn’t make me feel better about myself or my situation, but simply reminded me that Jesus is in me, and when I press into Jesus, even if I don’t get the band aid I am after, His ways are perfect and His life sustains me. I realized that, in order to stop needing band aids, I need to lean on Jesus. And that truth is still applicable! I guess I just forget at times." Rising to my feet, I breathed in the crisp night air and walked to my dorm, singing worship choruses as I went.
November 25, 2008
Facebook quandary
I am at a loss. How is it that I can’t even set my Facebook status anymore? This is ridiculous.
Lindsey is too sad to work…but she has to…
No way, that is a huge band aid request. Everyone and their mom and their dog would comment that status, attempting to make a good showing as a friend, not to mention Kristen and Emily would mobilize into Lindsey-is-depressed-we-better-pray mode and I don’t want to lay that on them.
Lindsey is feeling a little funky.
No, still too needy. I don’t want sympathy from Sarah and Laura, I want them to communicate with me freely of their own accord.
Lindsey doesn’t know what to say…
Well, obviously it is true, but it sounds depressed. They will know, and I will still feel like I elicited any communication they “initiate” which means the band aid will not make the bleeding stop. I want the bleeding to stop. What I really want is for the bleeding to stop starting!
Lindsey is confused.
Also true, and also too depressing. Why can’t I bring myself to type something that is neutral enough to satisfy me? Probably because describing my current status would include some emotional something-something since all I can think about at the moment is whether or not Sarah and Laura and the others in the cast like me enough to keep in contact with me and be friends with me on their own, away from the theatre department. But the only way to find out is…well, to lie about my status, for a start.
Lindsey has a lot of work to do.
Crap, I can’t leave that either. It just feels too deceptive, like all that I am thinking about is homework. That could not be farther from the truth.
Lindsey really needs Jesus.
That is always true, but Kristen’s Lindsey-is-invoking-her-reliance-on-Jesus-something-must-be-wrong antenna will go up, and unfortunately she would be right.
Lindsey is a dork.
Fine. I can live with that. “Dork” is my euphemism for “pathetic” and “needs to stop caring what people think” and “is dwelling too much on stupid things” and “should grow a spine!!!” and a myriad of other things, but it is nondescript enough that it should slip under everyone’s concern radar, so I feel secure that any communication after that status post will only happen if the person wants to talk to me.
Wait, how about this one: Lindsey loves Jesus!
Yes. It is accurate, it is impossible for it to evoke anything resembling sympathy, and it is still the truth at the core of my heart, even in the midst of my deep desire for band aids from people. Did I learn nothing from my night under the tree? And besides, neither Sarah nor Laura is a Christian, so this status won’t precipitate anything from them, which means if they do talk to me, it will be because they want to talk to me. I know in my mind that with Jesus, I don’t need it. I just hope my heart apprehends it so this doesn’t happen again…
November 25, 2008
Journal entry
Dear journal:
I am making cuts in other people! Every time I reach out for a band aid, I scratch the person giving it to me, but he or she loves me too much to say anything, to even make a sound or let loose an involuntary, “Ouch!” This very second I insulted my physical appearance in a text to Emily, and the reply was this: “Oh shut up. I’m going to be honest with you: it all starts with you. Before you will see any improvements (in your eyes) you first need to stop being so cynical towards yourself. You are at a healthy weight and you look fine. I am sorry to lecture but I tolerate the way you treat yourself but it is getting to be too much. I don’t know what is going through your head, but as your best friend this is me being honest to you.” Whoa. How did I screw this up so quickly? And someone finally said, “Ouch!” This has to stop.
Jesus, I see now that my desire for perfection in every aspect of my life has not only hurt me and made me question everything I am—everything you have made me!—but it also hurts the people around me. Even though my intentions were sometimes good, like with juggling and the variety show, and other times were not knowingly bad, like when I talked to Karole or commented to Emily, the problem is that I have made everything about me. I am so concerned with how others perceive me! That is why I work so hard to be good at everything, and when I feel like I am not doing well, I reach out to others to assure me that I am. Jesus, I don’t want to rely on the opinions and reassurances of other people. I don’t want to define who I am by the things I do. The things of this world, the effort I put forth in my own strength, is temporal and will pass away. And perfection—for all but you, Jesus—is a superstition, and I have blindly chased after it in hopes of validating myself, when all the time joy and peace that surpass understanding are in you.
Ok, so here's the deal: this thing is kind of long. I'm sure you've noticed that by now. If you don't have time to read it, I understand. No big deal. However, if you can and are willing, I would be very grateful.
Disclaimer: I have reservastions about posting this because it so personally examines me, and it involves Kris and Em. You two better know that I love everything about both of you, and this paper is supposed to be a commentary/exploration of me and me alone.
Anyway, without further ado, here it is:
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Journal entry
Dear journal:
Today was a wonderful day, until now. I hate the walk back to the dorm after rehearsal. For some reason I get contemplative, and my post-rehearsal musings have ruined many an otherwise lovely day. Apparently today is no exception. Tonight’s musings carried me back to this afternoon’s juggling practice. So, I guess its story time. Once upon a time, in a land of college students, frequent Spanish speaking, and non-indigenous palm trees, there lived a young woman, and she was learning, among other things, the art of juggling…
“Hey Mark, are you using these right now?”
“Nope, go for it.”
“Thanks. I haven’t practiced all week.”
“Didn’t you get some clubs for your birthday?”
“Yeah, but they’re really cheap, so I just left them at my house in Gilbert.”
“I’m sure someone here could scrounge up three for you if you want to practice during the week.”
“That would be great! Thanks Mark. I’ve just been doing three ball tricks during the week. I still don’t have the reverse cascade. The balls keep hitting each other.”
“It’ll come. You just have to keep trying. One time it’ll just click.”
“Yeah. I’ll keep at it.” I walked over to Mark’s gear and picked up his clubs.
“You hit yourself in the head yet?” he asked.
“Oh yeah, but at this point I can usually get my head out of the way.” Mark smiled and turned to juggle his other clubs, and I breathed a deep breath before clumsily throwing the first club into the pattern.
“Hey, how long have you been doing clubs?” Leah inquired.
“A couple weeks,” I replied.
“Wow, last time I was here, weren’t you just starting balls?”
“Yeah, well I’ve known the basic cascade since April, but everything else I started learning when you saw me last.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job.”
“Wow, thank you!” At this point, Dave asked Leah where she had been the last few weeks, and I turned my attention back to the clubs, grinning with satisfaction. My first toss was solid, my second toss too low, and my third outside of the pattern completely. I frowned. “Such improvement!” I thought to myself. Scanning the jugglers around me, I thought, “This is demoralizing. I’ll never be able to do that. Why do I even try?” I sighed and gazed down at the clubs in my hands. After a moment, I looked up, pursed my lips, inhaled and exhaled slowly through my nose, bent my knees slightly, and began my haphazard three-club pattern yet again. Practice makes perfect, after all.
An hour later, I heard the campus bells ring out, indicating it was 5:45 pm. “Oh, I have to go! I have to get dinner and go to play rehearsal.” Miraculously, I arrived at rehearsal with a minute to spare, despite the sloth-like pace of the Chickfila personnel that prepared my order. Rehearsal proceeded as usual, and although there were no mishaps, I approached my director afterwards to address something that bothered me. “Karole, can I ask you something?”
“Sure sweetie, what’s up?”
“I was wondering if you have any advice for me on how to be a queen. I’ve been working on it, but some things just don’t feel like Queen Gertrude just yet, and I’m not always sure what a queen would and would not do.”
She nodded understandingly, thought for a moment, and then began, “Well, you’re smoothing her out a little every time. And you carry yourself like a queen, and you speak like a queen—you know, welcoming and kind but sharp when you don’t get what you want. I don’t know, I could pay closer attention, but I think it’s all good. Your costume will help get rid of some of your not feeling queenly, and the rest is just you playing with the lines until they feel right.” By now we were walking out the door and were fixing to go our separate ways.
“Alright,” I said. She tilted her head, and examined my face.
“You’re doing fine,” she said tenderly.
“Thanks…”
“Really, you’re doing fine,” she reassured me.
“Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow, Karole,” I said, turning to go as her elevator opened and she stepped in. “Why can’t I just be happy with my acting?” I questioned aloud once outside. “Gah, I am pathetic! No one likes an unconfident actor! Snap out of it, Lindsey, seriously!” I felt nauseous and dizzy, my temples pulsated and my stomach churned. My escalating tirade was abruptly interrupted when my phone rang. I started at the sound. Then, glancing at the caller ID, I rolled my eyes and smiled. “How does she always know when to call?” I wondered to myself. “Hey, Kristen.”
“Hi Lindsey! “How are you?”
“I’m doing ok.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Man, I hate that she understands my euphemisms.” I thought to myself. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m just frustrated with myself again.”
“How come?”
“Well, I haven’t been feeling great about the work I’m doing as Queen Gertrude lately—not bad, just not stellar—and so I asked my director for advice and she didn’t really have any to give me but she told me I am doing fine.”
“So you’re doing fine. What’s the problem?”
“Well, I’m only doing fine, for one thing, but she doesn’t have any suggestions for making it better than fine. And it just seemed like she knew I was feeling insecure and that’s why she told me I’m doing fine. I mean, she did say that I’m doing a little better each time, and that I walk and talk pretty much like a queen but…oh, I don’t know. I was fishing for compliments again, and I hate it when I do that.”
“You keep telling me that you fish for compliments all the time, but I don’t see that. What do you mean?”
“Oh, I insult myself or downplay everything I do to hear people tell me I’m doing great…I can’t believe you don’t know that, I do it to you all the time. I guess you just don’t notice.”
“Well, why do you do that if you don’t want to?”
“I don’t know…I don’t know where it all comes from…I just wish it would go away.” My voice trailed off, and I fell silent. I was afraid to keep talking. I thought that if I did, soon I would be fishing for compliments by lamenting the fact that I fish for compliments, and that is an ironic level of pathetic that I wanted to avoid.
“Are you still there?” Kristen asked softly.
“Yeah, I’m just thinking.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“I was thinking about something that happened during rehearsal for Twelfth Night sophomore year.”
“You gonna tell me what it is?”
“Sure. We were recently off-book and rehearsing without our scripts, which means we started making more drastic character choices. You know, playing with the lines, defining our physicality, establishing chemistry with others on stage, and so on. And at the end of rehearsal every day, Ms. Biederman would give us notes. And one of the only notes she gave me was, ‘Lindsey, stop looking at me.’
I knew exactly what she was talking about, but I pretended to be confused and responded, ‘What do you mean?’
Of course she gave me the answer I expected, ‘Every time you say a line or make a decision, you look at me to see if I reacted or approved. You are the character. Just be the character, don’t look at me for endorsement.’
I smiled at her and diligently took down the note like a good actor should, but honestly, when she said that, my heart stopped for a moment. I felt like I was going to throw up. I couldn’t believe someone caught me being honestly, inexcusably self-conscious. It was the first time it manifested without me being in control, or without me masking it as a light dig at myself or misplaced modesty or something. It freaked me out.” Suddenly I didn’t want to talk anymore.
“Lindsey, are you there?”
“I’m here. Hey, I’m pretty tired. I think I’m just gonna go to bed. I’m totally fine, don’t worry about me. Just my usual self-deprecating tendencies. Nothing new. No worries, Kris, I really am fine. Please don’t worry about me, because I know you will, and you really don’t have to.” Lies, all lies…but I needed to think. “For once, deal with your own issues! Your issue is always looking for other people’s advice, for goodness sake! How do you expect to fix that by talking to someone else? It’s ludicrous!”
“Ok, Lindsey. I’ll talk to you later then, ok?”
“Yeah, for sure. Of course, Kris, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Alright. I love you!”
“I love you too, Kris. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
I hung up the phone, and plopped down on a concrete bench near my dorm house. The area was quiet, with distant voices and cricket chirps warding off the eerie silence of night. A tree draped overhead, and the small leaves speckled the seat of the bench. It seemed a good place to think, so I set aside my backpack, turned off my phone, and settled in. “Why do I do this to myself?” I wondered helplessly. “What makes me so bent on being dissatisfied with everything I do?” I realized that I was being hard on myself for being hard on myself, and that would lead me no where positive. So instead of continuing down the path of self-reprimand, I forced myself to remember something good about myself. The first example that came to mind was the variety show.
Countless hours, a couple nervous breakdowns, and many, many post-it notes later, I managed to instigate, organize, promote, and host “A Night of Heroes: a Charity Variety Show” almost entirely by myself, even as a mere eleventh grader. Mr. Jordan had no faith in me, which is why he removed his support and the support of drama club, and almost caused the ruin of the entire thing. He was irritated to discover I found new sponsorship for the show, even after he went to another organization to finagle a promise not to lend their support (he underestimated my abilities). Consequently, his best friend Brian, the auditorium manager (who had to work the light and sound cues for my show as a part of his job), shared Mr. Jordan’s disdain for my endeavor. I remember one incident particularly clearly:
“Lindsey, I need to talk to you,” Brian said to me sharply. I stifled my disinclination to speak to him, and patiently accompanied him to the side of the stage.
“I can’t do anything with these,” he snapped, sweeping his arm angrily to gesture at the microphones lying on the floor.
“What do you mean?” I inquired, straining to appear calm. “These are the microphones you told me you needed for Advanced Vocal. These are what the choir director gave me.”
“I need the chords,” he said, as if everyone in the universe understood his unspoken needs except me.
“Where are the chords?”
“In the choir room.” Of course they were. The choir director had made it expressly clear that she was leaving early and was not coming back. Now it was 5 o’clock in the evening, the show was two hours away, and my opening act had no microphones.
“Do you have a key to the choir room?”
“Yes.”
“Can we go in there and get the chords, then?”
“No, they’re in the closet, and no one has a key to that except Miss Flint.”
“Uhh…ok, I’ll see what I can do.” I hurried out into the hallway and began to pray, “God, I don’t know what to do. Please, please, please help me.” At that moment, I turned the corner, glancing into the choir room as I passed by. Inside was a small, wrinkled Oriental woman eating dinner alone. “No way…” I knocked frantically on the door. She jumped in her seat, turned to see my eager face through the small window, got up, and opened the door.
“Can I help you?” she asked in a melodic tone.
“Do you have a key to that room?” I asked, pointing at the choir room closet.
“No, only head custodian have a key for there,” she explained.
“Who is the head custodian?”
“Bob.”
“Is Bob here?”
“Yes,” she replied gaily.
“Can you take me to him?” I asked, trying to suppress my giddiness until the chords were in my hands. Without saying anything, she smiled wide and led the way. After meeting Bob and quickly explaining my quandary, he gladly accompanied me back to the choir room and opened the door. Instead of retrieving the chords myself, I found Brian. “The door is open. Could you come with me and get whatever you need?” I cooed when I saw him. Appearing dumbfounded and slightly perturbed, he followed me to the room and got the chords.
“See?” I thought to myself, shifting into a cross-legged position on the bench. “Without my constant persistence, the variety show never would have happened.” For a moment I was satisfied. Unfortunately, I could not dismiss the issue so easily. “So why this confidence deficiency? If I am able to persevere in spite of obstacles in my path, like with juggling or the variety show, then why do I constantly long for overt, unmistakable, resounding affirmation from others? Why the unrelenting need for compliments? What moved me to ask Karole those questions? What caused me to unknowingly glance at Ms. Biederman’s face during rehearsals? And why are some compliments not good enough? Why were Leah’s and Karole’s compliments insufficient for me? Have I always been this way?” A breeze began to blow as I sat on the bench, struggling to recount a moment in my past that displayed the persistence with which I now attack everything in life, including myself. I drew my knees up to my chest, resting my chin between them, and let out a single shudder before adjusting to the cold and returning to my thoughts. “What about elementary school?” Nothing sprung to mind. “Maybe it wasn’t there yet…but then when?” As I mused over this point, I finally summoned one incident in the 5th grade, a story lovingly titled by those who have heard it, “The Band Aid Story.”
“Mr. Amerson, may I have a band aid?” I asked after he called on me.
“No.” He turned away and continued teaching.
“Is he serious? All I want is a band aid! Maybe he didn’t hear me…”
“Mr. Amerson,” I began again after he called on me, “can I have a band aid for my finger?”
“No.” Again he turned back to the lesson on the board. I raised my hand again.
“Can I have a band aid?” I asked after he called on me for the third time.
“No, Lindsey.”
“But…” I was cut off as he abruptly turned the other way. At this point my finger had lost hope of receiving a band aid and clotted itself, but it was the principle of the thing. I raised my hand again, wondering if he would call on me at all. For whatever reason, he did.
“Mr. Amerson, can I please have a band aid?”
“Lindsey, let’s say you’re a girl scout, and you are on a hike with them and you trip and scrape your knee. Now are you going to tough it out and keep going, or are you going to stop everything to ask for a band aid?” Without taking even a moment to think, I planted my hands firmly on the desk, looked him straight in the eye, and said,
“I’m going to stop and ask for a band aid.” He glared at me, and then quickly diverted his angry stare to the class, effectively silencing their giggles. Then, his head cocked and shoulders clenched by his ears, he walked back to the front of the classroom. A moment later, my arm was again in the air. Without a word, he marched over to his desk, opened a drawer, removed something, approached my desk, and set in front of me a band aid. With a slight air of triumph, I said sweetly, “Thank you.”
As my recollection ended, I felt a sudden chill, but the tree didn’t rustle, the leaves didn’t swirl, and it wasn’t cold outside. “When I got that band aid from Mr. Amerson, I got what I wanted—I accomplished my goal—but at a price. Now in various ways, I require band aids from people in order to feel accomplished in and of myself. Other people…the things I do are all defined by other people. I have reached the point where I need validation to confirm that whatever I am doing is correct, or that I am doing a good job. I need to get the band aid from people to prove that I needed the band aid. And I imagine my ideal band aid, inevitably setting the bar inordinately high, so that most compliments fall short of what I desired, and just make me feel worse! Consequently, I prolong every band aid request. Additionally, I have created a safety net for myself so that, if I am ever unable to pursue perfect correctness—if I ever stop asking others for band aids—then people know something is wrong, and the band aids are offered freely in droves. Like when I began college, I was incapable of mustering enthusiasm toward anything, and people recognized such a change in me that they rushed to offer their band aids…
“You’re strong, Lindsey. You’ll be just fine.” –Mom
“You can come home whenever you want.” –Dad
“I just wish I could make you feel better like you always make me feel better.” –Kristen
“You will make your best friends in college.” –Beth
“I know how you feel, Linds, but at least we’ll always be best friends.” –Emily
“How are you doing in college? Better?” –Jan
“Depression is not an uncommon thing, and there is no shame in getting help.” –Michal Ann
“I understand. It’ll get better.” –A slew of people
“Let’s bring this to Jesus together.” –Kelly
Wait…that last one wasn’t much of a band aid, but it stopped the bleeding. What Kelly said didn’t make me feel better about myself or my situation, but simply reminded me that Jesus is in me, and when I press into Jesus, even if I don’t get the band aid I am after, His ways are perfect and His life sustains me. I realized that, in order to stop needing band aids, I need to lean on Jesus. And that truth is still applicable! I guess I just forget at times." Rising to my feet, I breathed in the crisp night air and walked to my dorm, singing worship choruses as I went.
November 25, 2008
Facebook quandary
I am at a loss. How is it that I can’t even set my Facebook status anymore? This is ridiculous.
Lindsey is too sad to work…but she has to…
No way, that is a huge band aid request. Everyone and their mom and their dog would comment that status, attempting to make a good showing as a friend, not to mention Kristen and Emily would mobilize into Lindsey-is-depressed-we-better-pray mode and I don’t want to lay that on them.
Lindsey is feeling a little funky.
No, still too needy. I don’t want sympathy from Sarah and Laura, I want them to communicate with me freely of their own accord.
Lindsey doesn’t know what to say…
Well, obviously it is true, but it sounds depressed. They will know, and I will still feel like I elicited any communication they “initiate” which means the band aid will not make the bleeding stop. I want the bleeding to stop. What I really want is for the bleeding to stop starting!
Lindsey is confused.
Also true, and also too depressing. Why can’t I bring myself to type something that is neutral enough to satisfy me? Probably because describing my current status would include some emotional something-something since all I can think about at the moment is whether or not Sarah and Laura and the others in the cast like me enough to keep in contact with me and be friends with me on their own, away from the theatre department. But the only way to find out is…well, to lie about my status, for a start.
Lindsey has a lot of work to do.
Crap, I can’t leave that either. It just feels too deceptive, like all that I am thinking about is homework. That could not be farther from the truth.
Lindsey really needs Jesus.
That is always true, but Kristen’s Lindsey-is-invoking-her-reliance-on-Jesus-something-must-be-wrong antenna will go up, and unfortunately she would be right.
Lindsey is a dork.
Fine. I can live with that. “Dork” is my euphemism for “pathetic” and “needs to stop caring what people think” and “is dwelling too much on stupid things” and “should grow a spine!!!” and a myriad of other things, but it is nondescript enough that it should slip under everyone’s concern radar, so I feel secure that any communication after that status post will only happen if the person wants to talk to me.
Wait, how about this one: Lindsey loves Jesus!
Yes. It is accurate, it is impossible for it to evoke anything resembling sympathy, and it is still the truth at the core of my heart, even in the midst of my deep desire for band aids from people. Did I learn nothing from my night under the tree? And besides, neither Sarah nor Laura is a Christian, so this status won’t precipitate anything from them, which means if they do talk to me, it will be because they want to talk to me. I know in my mind that with Jesus, I don’t need it. I just hope my heart apprehends it so this doesn’t happen again…
November 25, 2008
Journal entry
Dear journal:
I am making cuts in other people! Every time I reach out for a band aid, I scratch the person giving it to me, but he or she loves me too much to say anything, to even make a sound or let loose an involuntary, “Ouch!” This very second I insulted my physical appearance in a text to Emily, and the reply was this: “Oh shut up. I’m going to be honest with you: it all starts with you. Before you will see any improvements (in your eyes) you first need to stop being so cynical towards yourself. You are at a healthy weight and you look fine. I am sorry to lecture but I tolerate the way you treat yourself but it is getting to be too much. I don’t know what is going through your head, but as your best friend this is me being honest to you.” Whoa. How did I screw this up so quickly? And someone finally said, “Ouch!” This has to stop.
Jesus, I see now that my desire for perfection in every aspect of my life has not only hurt me and made me question everything I am—everything you have made me!—but it also hurts the people around me. Even though my intentions were sometimes good, like with juggling and the variety show, and other times were not knowingly bad, like when I talked to Karole or commented to Emily, the problem is that I have made everything about me. I am so concerned with how others perceive me! That is why I work so hard to be good at everything, and when I feel like I am not doing well, I reach out to others to assure me that I am. Jesus, I don’t want to rely on the opinions and reassurances of other people. I don’t want to define who I am by the things I do. The things of this world, the effort I put forth in my own strength, is temporal and will pass away. And perfection—for all but you, Jesus—is a superstition, and I have blindly chased after it in hopes of validating myself, when all the time joy and peace that surpass understanding are in you.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Thanks for the comments, everyone...
Wow. Those comments on my last post were intense. Kristen went all "power to the people" on Tom! And you know what's funny? He was being nice to me about my social life. But she was all up on...nope, not going to finish that sentence. It will go no where good. Anyway, I appreciate the activity, even if it veered off on a random tangent... oh, by the way Tom, I enjoyed the double dig at Kristen by saying "Brevity is the sole of wit" in Spanish. Well played.
Oh Em: nice comment on the lovers' spat. I laughed. :)
Kristen, I don't mean to be mean to you in this post. Time to say something nice about you: I appreciate the time you devote to your comments! And yes Tom, that was a sincere compliment. :)
Oh, and let's not forget that the USSR had the upper hand in the space race to begin with, but the US triumphed in the end. So I willingly accept the analogy.
So I should be reading essays for English right now because I am about 14 essays behind...oh, and I need to buy ink. Rats. These essays suck out loud. The last one I read was a rant about how the movie Fight Club did not fit into his argument about the danger of capitalism (and I'm sitting there thinking, "If it doesn't support your point, why are you rambling about it?!"). The guy used some form of the word "pedagogy" 24 times. It was annoying. That word makes me think of churning milk to make cheese. I don't know why. I don't even know if that is how cheese is made. All of my lessons on the subject come from vague memories of Little House on the Prairie episodes.
So I have rehearsal tonight. I hope it goes well. We're blocking my biggest scene (not that big, mind you, but my biggest) and I just hope I have fun with my other cast members. I think I may be the only freshman, and it just seems like everyone already clicks. I know what that's like, except I'm usually one of the clickers. We shall see how this all pans out. I'll just be myself and try to be a good queen. A good queen in the sense of a queen that marries her husband's murder in order to maintain her own status...but hey, at least I get married! heh...
I also have mock trial this weekend. My first time and I signed up to be an attorney. That was stupid. But oh well. I'm going to try to find time to study the rules of evidence so I don't make a total fool of myself. I'm an actor, I'll pretend I know what I'm doing (yes Tom, it will first require me to pretend to be a good actor).
Well, I should pack up. My roommate just decided to take a nap, so I'm going to go to the library and read essays until rehearsal. Perhaps I will blog later.
Oh, and its official: I'm going to Texas for Thanksgiving! I am so excited to see my family (they're family to me!), but I am really bummed that I might not get to see Tom. What dates will you be home around Thanksgiving, Tom? Because my folks are picking me up from Tucson the Wednesday before and we're driving to Texas and we won't get back until Monday morning, and they're going to drop me off at UA, so I probably won't get to see you. :( That honestly saddens me. Kristen will be staying in California anyway because Arizona is now beneath her and thankfully I get to see Emily on a semi-regular basis so its not a total bummer that we'll miss Thanksgiving together. Speaking of which, Emily: you and me the weekend of October 25! That's when I'm coming home next, and I plan to not have homework if it is at all within my power. :) I guess this just means we have to hang out more over winter break, Tom. I miss you! Your comments make me miss you. I laugh all the time and probably freak out my roommate. But its not my fault my friends are so much cooler than hers.
Ok, so I didn't proof read this as I usually do, so don't nail me too hard on spelling/grammar mistakes. I'm an English major, I don't have to be good at this stuff. (if you didn't get that logic, don't worry, you're just not smart enough to follow)
Bible verse of the moment: "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." --Galations 2:20
I love you all! Talk soon!
Love,
Lindsey
Oh Em: nice comment on the lovers' spat. I laughed. :)
Kristen, I don't mean to be mean to you in this post. Time to say something nice about you: I appreciate the time you devote to your comments! And yes Tom, that was a sincere compliment. :)
Oh, and let's not forget that the USSR had the upper hand in the space race to begin with, but the US triumphed in the end. So I willingly accept the analogy.
So I should be reading essays for English right now because I am about 14 essays behind...oh, and I need to buy ink. Rats. These essays suck out loud. The last one I read was a rant about how the movie Fight Club did not fit into his argument about the danger of capitalism (and I'm sitting there thinking, "If it doesn't support your point, why are you rambling about it?!"). The guy used some form of the word "pedagogy" 24 times. It was annoying. That word makes me think of churning milk to make cheese. I don't know why. I don't even know if that is how cheese is made. All of my lessons on the subject come from vague memories of Little House on the Prairie episodes.
So I have rehearsal tonight. I hope it goes well. We're blocking my biggest scene (not that big, mind you, but my biggest) and I just hope I have fun with my other cast members. I think I may be the only freshman, and it just seems like everyone already clicks. I know what that's like, except I'm usually one of the clickers. We shall see how this all pans out. I'll just be myself and try to be a good queen. A good queen in the sense of a queen that marries her husband's murder in order to maintain her own status...but hey, at least I get married! heh...
I also have mock trial this weekend. My first time and I signed up to be an attorney. That was stupid. But oh well. I'm going to try to find time to study the rules of evidence so I don't make a total fool of myself. I'm an actor, I'll pretend I know what I'm doing (yes Tom, it will first require me to pretend to be a good actor).
Well, I should pack up. My roommate just decided to take a nap, so I'm going to go to the library and read essays until rehearsal. Perhaps I will blog later.
Oh, and its official: I'm going to Texas for Thanksgiving! I am so excited to see my family (they're family to me!), but I am really bummed that I might not get to see Tom. What dates will you be home around Thanksgiving, Tom? Because my folks are picking me up from Tucson the Wednesday before and we're driving to Texas and we won't get back until Monday morning, and they're going to drop me off at UA, so I probably won't get to see you. :( That honestly saddens me. Kristen will be staying in California anyway because Arizona is now beneath her and thankfully I get to see Emily on a semi-regular basis so its not a total bummer that we'll miss Thanksgiving together. Speaking of which, Emily: you and me the weekend of October 25! That's when I'm coming home next, and I plan to not have homework if it is at all within my power. :) I guess this just means we have to hang out more over winter break, Tom. I miss you! Your comments make me miss you. I laugh all the time and probably freak out my roommate. But its not my fault my friends are so much cooler than hers.
Ok, so I didn't proof read this as I usually do, so don't nail me too hard on spelling/grammar mistakes. I'm an English major, I don't have to be good at this stuff. (if you didn't get that logic, don't worry, you're just not smart enough to follow)
Bible verse of the moment: "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." --Galations 2:20
I love you all! Talk soon!
Love,
Lindsey
Friday, October 10, 2008
Sorry for the hiatus...
Hey all (ha, I say "all" like people aside from Allison, Emily, Kristen, and Tom read this thing...).
Sorry I haven't blogged for a while. First came exams, then came catching up on the reading I neglected during exams, then came Phi Alpha Delta and the show, and interspersed in there were a few mild meltdowns. Very time consuming stuff.
Anyway, it seems I have made through my first wave of exams/projects. Not at all gracefully, mind you, but I have made it through nonetheless. I did well (as "well" as one can do in a philosophy based class) on my work for English, my Spanish teacher asked me if my family is Spanish because of my accent and has since been very happy with me and my class contributions (side note: when she asked me, I couldn't help think of Tom and the fact that he gets perks for being Spanish and I am every bit Spanish except for in the technical, biological, ancestral sense of the word...that just sucks...), my Geology class is pretty easy and I like my professor quite a bit (the fact that I got a 95% on my exam may have something to do my current affinity for the class), and I'm still waiting to see if there is yet a shoe to drop in my Modern Latin America class. I'll let you know (I know you'll be losing sleep over the matter...)
As far as my extracurriculars go, it has been overwhelming. Phi Alpha Delta is so involved, it is hard to wrap my mind around. I feel like I am sucking hard core at being a part of that fraternity, and the fact that I have rehearsal every week night from 6 to 10 for the next month will not exactly bolster my PAD involvement. I'm trying not to think about the requirements of the fraternity and just have fun with it. The requirements will take care of themselves. I have my Mock Trial competition for PAD on the 18th and that wigs me out to no end. I decided to venture to be an attorney (when being a witness is infinitely easier) on my first time, and I'm kind of freaking out. Buuuuut, whatever. Similarly, I signed up for a basketball tournament within PAD for Sunday, and I'm afraid I'm going to make a fool of myself. But I'm an actor, so I guess I should be used to that.
Speaking of acting, my read-through was this week and rehearsal begins on Monday. I really hope I get to know the cast and director because I like them a lot; I'm a freshman, a girl in a guy-dominated show, and I have a small part, so that'll make it hard, but who doesn't love a good challenge now and then?
And then there's juggling. In many ways my favorite, mostly because it is so low key but awesome at the same time. I started clubs this week (Tom understands the difficulty in this endeavor). They're tough, but I managed to make six or seven catches with three pins after about 20 minutes. And I've been learning new three ball tricks that make me happy. They folks I juggle with have been teaching me well. And then last week I went out with Mark, Ian, and Sedgwick afterward because rehearsal is going to prevent me from hanging out with them after juggling for like a month and a half. Thankfully juggling starts at 4:30 PM and rehearsal isn't until 6, so I won't miss out on weekly juggling. I am very glad. :)
Hanging out with those guys was fun. We went out for pizza and beer (well, beer for them, Diet Coke for me) and talked for a while. They are pretty awesome. But no one get excited or disturbed or begin to worry that the Apocalypse is fast approaching, because none of them are interested in me in anything resembling a romantic way, particularly because they are all too old for me (late 20s to mid 30s). But they're good friends. And I enjoy friends immensely.
Oh, so in Spanish class the other day we had to read a story that was kind of a fantasy story (I totally missed the fact that the guy turns into a newspaper at the end...got lost in translation...) and when we were done, our teacher said we had fifteen minutes to write our own fantasy. She mentioned that someone in her first class wrote a poem, so I thought I would venture to do the same. I mean, I write poetry, and I've always wanted to write poetry in Spanish, but I've been too timid to try. So I dove in and wrote my first Spanish poem (which had to have a fantastical angle) in 15 minutes. Here it is:
Hoy
Nada es bueno
Mis ojos son rojos
Porque no dormi
Y mi cuerpo esta cansado
El mundo es un poco pesado hoy
Pero tengo salvacion:
Mi papel del teatro
Cuando yo actuo
Este mundo sale decpacio
Y el mundo--las problemas--del papel
Son mios.
Hoy, quiero esas problemas.
Mi papel es de una reina
Mi postura es rigida
Mi voz es fuerte
Y mi hijo me aborrece
Es triste...para mi es mejor
Pero cuando la obra termina
Y sali el teatro
Nada es el mismo
Estoy en Dinamarca permanente
Porque es que yo quise
Pero este mundo es mas oscuro que el primero
Y no lo quiero ahora
Que ironico.
So there you go. Terrible poem in and of itself in my opinion, but oh well. Sorry I am too lazy to insert the accents.
Ok well, I'm sure I'll have more do discuss later. But for now, I think I may nap. Or juggle.
Oh, wait! Kristen has a boy! She doesn't know his name, but that's only because she's starting to lose track of all the men in her life. I'm a little concerned, but it is in the Lord's hands. Anyone who wants to join me in a prayer meeting for Kristen, let me know. We'll ask God to curb her strong tendency for flirtation that college has allowed to go beyond playing hard-to-get with Tom. Tom dear, you were good practice for her. Kristen, be careful with those powerful feminine wiles of yours. Don't be too Siren-like. It's cruel to all those men who can't help but drool over you. Emily and Allison: I think we better speed up the planning process for Kristen's bachelorette party.
On that note, farewell until soon!
Bible verse of the moment: "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." --Philippians 4:4-7
In Him,
Lindsey
PS - oh oh, I've socialized this week! I'll have to write about that next time...
Sorry I haven't blogged for a while. First came exams, then came catching up on the reading I neglected during exams, then came Phi Alpha Delta and the show, and interspersed in there were a few mild meltdowns. Very time consuming stuff.
Anyway, it seems I have made through my first wave of exams/projects. Not at all gracefully, mind you, but I have made it through nonetheless. I did well (as "well" as one can do in a philosophy based class) on my work for English, my Spanish teacher asked me if my family is Spanish because of my accent and has since been very happy with me and my class contributions (side note: when she asked me, I couldn't help think of Tom and the fact that he gets perks for being Spanish and I am every bit Spanish except for in the technical, biological, ancestral sense of the word...that just sucks...), my Geology class is pretty easy and I like my professor quite a bit (the fact that I got a 95% on my exam may have something to do my current affinity for the class), and I'm still waiting to see if there is yet a shoe to drop in my Modern Latin America class. I'll let you know (I know you'll be losing sleep over the matter...)
As far as my extracurriculars go, it has been overwhelming. Phi Alpha Delta is so involved, it is hard to wrap my mind around. I feel like I am sucking hard core at being a part of that fraternity, and the fact that I have rehearsal every week night from 6 to 10 for the next month will not exactly bolster my PAD involvement. I'm trying not to think about the requirements of the fraternity and just have fun with it. The requirements will take care of themselves. I have my Mock Trial competition for PAD on the 18th and that wigs me out to no end. I decided to venture to be an attorney (when being a witness is infinitely easier) on my first time, and I'm kind of freaking out. Buuuuut, whatever. Similarly, I signed up for a basketball tournament within PAD for Sunday, and I'm afraid I'm going to make a fool of myself. But I'm an actor, so I guess I should be used to that.
Speaking of acting, my read-through was this week and rehearsal begins on Monday. I really hope I get to know the cast and director because I like them a lot; I'm a freshman, a girl in a guy-dominated show, and I have a small part, so that'll make it hard, but who doesn't love a good challenge now and then?
And then there's juggling. In many ways my favorite, mostly because it is so low key but awesome at the same time. I started clubs this week (Tom understands the difficulty in this endeavor). They're tough, but I managed to make six or seven catches with three pins after about 20 minutes. And I've been learning new three ball tricks that make me happy. They folks I juggle with have been teaching me well. And then last week I went out with Mark, Ian, and Sedgwick afterward because rehearsal is going to prevent me from hanging out with them after juggling for like a month and a half. Thankfully juggling starts at 4:30 PM and rehearsal isn't until 6, so I won't miss out on weekly juggling. I am very glad. :)
Hanging out with those guys was fun. We went out for pizza and beer (well, beer for them, Diet Coke for me) and talked for a while. They are pretty awesome. But no one get excited or disturbed or begin to worry that the Apocalypse is fast approaching, because none of them are interested in me in anything resembling a romantic way, particularly because they are all too old for me (late 20s to mid 30s). But they're good friends. And I enjoy friends immensely.
Oh, so in Spanish class the other day we had to read a story that was kind of a fantasy story (I totally missed the fact that the guy turns into a newspaper at the end...got lost in translation...) and when we were done, our teacher said we had fifteen minutes to write our own fantasy. She mentioned that someone in her first class wrote a poem, so I thought I would venture to do the same. I mean, I write poetry, and I've always wanted to write poetry in Spanish, but I've been too timid to try. So I dove in and wrote my first Spanish poem (which had to have a fantastical angle) in 15 minutes. Here it is:
Hoy
Nada es bueno
Mis ojos son rojos
Porque no dormi
Y mi cuerpo esta cansado
El mundo es un poco pesado hoy
Pero tengo salvacion:
Mi papel del teatro
Cuando yo actuo
Este mundo sale decpacio
Y el mundo--las problemas--del papel
Son mios.
Hoy, quiero esas problemas.
Mi papel es de una reina
Mi postura es rigida
Mi voz es fuerte
Y mi hijo me aborrece
Es triste...para mi es mejor
Pero cuando la obra termina
Y sali el teatro
Nada es el mismo
Estoy en Dinamarca permanente
Porque es que yo quise
Pero este mundo es mas oscuro que el primero
Y no lo quiero ahora
Que ironico.
So there you go. Terrible poem in and of itself in my opinion, but oh well. Sorry I am too lazy to insert the accents.
Ok well, I'm sure I'll have more do discuss later. But for now, I think I may nap. Or juggle.
Oh, wait! Kristen has a boy! She doesn't know his name, but that's only because she's starting to lose track of all the men in her life. I'm a little concerned, but it is in the Lord's hands. Anyone who wants to join me in a prayer meeting for Kristen, let me know. We'll ask God to curb her strong tendency for flirtation that college has allowed to go beyond playing hard-to-get with Tom. Tom dear, you were good practice for her. Kristen, be careful with those powerful feminine wiles of yours. Don't be too Siren-like. It's cruel to all those men who can't help but drool over you. Emily and Allison: I think we better speed up the planning process for Kristen's bachelorette party.
On that note, farewell until soon!
Bible verse of the moment: "Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." --Philippians 4:4-7
In Him,
Lindsey
PS - oh oh, I've socialized this week! I'll have to write about that next time...
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