Thoughts Brought About by St. Augustine and Nichole Nordeman

I don’t understand GOD. I have so many questions, and anytime I get an answer, it usually leaves me with ten more questions than I started with. There has to be so much more to Him than the boxes that I try to keep Him in. But those boxes seem so huge to me that I can’t even fathom or imagine what more there could be.

St. Augustine, in his Confessions, says, “She saw that You had given her more than with all her pitiful weeping she had ever asked.” (He’s referring to his mother’s gladness over his conversion.) While I appreciate what he’s saying in context, I see how these words also reflect so much of my own life. I have begged GOD for so much. I have begged Him to take things and people out of my life and I have begged Him to bring things and people into it. I have begged Him to make me into something other than I am out of a desire for perfection. I have begged Him to make me smarter; to make me nicer; to make me stronger; to make me better. I have begged Him to make my mind wrap around Him because I am uncomfortable with not understanding all that He says and does and is.

And in the midst of all this begging, I forget about praise. I forget to thank Him: for breath and life and the beauty of creation, for books and art and poetry and music, for laughter and tears and all the crazy emotions He’s given, for all the people I love and for all the people who love me. I forget to thank Him for giving me more than I had ever asked for with my pitiful weeping and begging. I ask for so much, and offer no praise or thanksgiving in return. I forget that sometimes the LORD puts us in sucky circumstances to teach us and grow us, like this song talks about. Instead I try to keep Him in a box because I’m more comfortable with Him there. Somehow I picked up the idea that trying to control and contain GOD will lead to a deeper understanding of Him. But seeing a lion in a cage doesn’t compare to seeing it in the wild, where it belongs and can fully demonstrate its power.

Staring at People Makes Them Feel Weird and Other Lessons Learned in an Art Museum

Today I visited the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art with my mum and my brother. I’ve always liked art, but taking Fine Arts this semester has greatly changed my perspective on it...particularly modern art, which I still don’t like all that much, but now I at least understand that modern artists actually put meaning into their work whereas before I thought they were just dumb people with too much time on their hands.

I realized today that when I look at works of art, I start to view people in the same way I do the pieces in front of me. Why do people look the way they do? Why do they dress and arrange their hair the way they do? What does a person’s appearance say about the person them self to me? In what ways am I misinterpreting them? In what ways are my assumptions correct? I didn’t quite realize how much I was doing this until a curator (who happened to be one of the people I was viewing as art) stopped in midstride, said hi, and asked what was wrong. I was tempted to make something up and save what face I had left, but instead I just smiled and walked away without saying anything. No doubt they started having me watched on the security cameras.

Have you ever looked at a work of art and found yourself in it? I had only had it happen once with one of the pieces from Monet's Water Lilies Series(Which is coming to The Nelson in April...I am so excited!). It happened again today though withJohn Singer Sargent's Portrait of Mrs. Cecil Wade. I’m not really sure why I connected with it so much, but throughout the day I found myself going back to it over and over. I think part of it has to do with how strong and cool and collected she looks; as if nothing could ever disturb her repose or make her angry. I want to be her when I grow up. Oddly enough it happened a second time today with Childe Hassam's Sonata. It’s strange, because she’s holding a piece by Beethoven that I played my junior year of high school. I actually walked by this one because I was distracted by a Van Gogh across the room, but my mum and brother made me go back to it later. It’s funny because I’ve sat in front of a piano in the exact same way. I know the exhaustion and satisfaction she simultaneously feels.

Also, I realized today that I was born in the wrong century. My mum concurs. I would have fit in better in nineteenth century England.

More Thoughts While On Spring Break

Spring Break is almost over. I’m packing to go back to school. Rather, I’m procrastinating and writing this post instead of packing to go back to school. It’s amazing how lazy a week of lying around reading novels, drinking tea (I quit coffee...) and surfing the internet can make you.

One of my random projects this week was to go through all my old CD’s and put the ones that I’d been wanting to listen to on my iPod. I found Kelly Clarkson’s album, Breakaway and I have been listening to it over and over. I forgot how angsty it is! (Yes, angsty is not a real word.) Anyways, I’ve been running around singing her songs and remembering (and laughing about) all the boys I used to sing those songs about. Comedic distance is a very good thing.

I had never really paid attention to the words before, even though I’m still able to sing every single line perfectly and in harmony. It’s so funny how much words mean...even when we don’t think about them...especially when we don’t think about them. Now I can look back and see how the words I used to sing unthinkingly warped my views on myself and the things that I thought I wanted and deserved. I see how those words taught me that it’s okay to take and take and take and never give anything back when it comes to the people around you. I had been thinking a lot about my tendency to suck the life out of my friendships with my selfishness anyways, and singing Kelly Clarkson really brought it to light.

It’s so easy to take my petty hurts and needs and turn them into a big deal. It’s so easy to get trapped in the thinking that I’m the only person who deals with being hurt or who feels like I never get what I deserve. It’s even easier to expect the people around me to listen to me and cater to me and make me feel better about myself and allow me to give nothing in return.

But the truth is, there are a lot worse things out there than getting a C on a test or being confused about where my life is going or quitting coffee, and wallowing in self-pity doesn’t help...in fact it makes things seem even worse! Thank goodness for grace. And thank goodness for a GOD who gives it. I’m so glad that He gives me second chances...and third...and fourth...and fifth...and sixth...and seventh...

Thoughts While On Spring Break

This is a post I’ve been putting off writing for a while now. Honestly, I’ve been avoiding it because I’m slightly overwhelmed by the alarming amount of things I want to express. It seems like these past couple of weeks (and months for that matter) have been a roller coaster of tests, papers, reading assignments, work, building new relationships and fixing old ones, and coming to terms (yet again) with my inability to do all of that stuff and have it all turn out as perfectly as I had planned. However, now that it’s Spring Break and I’ve had a few days to drink iced tea and read novels and sleep with the windows open at my parents’ house, I remember what it’s like to relax and not care about whether or not I’m late for class. Here, there are no papers to write or songs to learn and it’s nice. So here I am, with all this time...now it’s time to process. Even though I’ve been waiting for this chance to just sit and think and be alone, it’s been such a long time since I’ve been able to to this extent, and I’m rather out of practice. So get ready for a lot of random rambling and jabbering.

This past weekend I chaperoned my first youth event. Granted, I was only a nominal chaperone, seeing as I was practically the same age as the girls I was in charge of. It’s a good thing they were well behaved, because I made absolutely no attempt at pretending to be an adult around them.

The strange thing about this retreat was that I didn’t feel connected to it. I had spent the whole week expecting to get some huge revelation from GOD there, and the only thing I left with was a severe lack of sleep and a head cold. The whole time I was in youth, retreats, and camps and Disciple Nows were the places and times that I heard from GOD. They were my connection to Him. They were where I felt the LORD’s conviction. They were my source of spiritual survival. So I went into this weekend expecting just that. I thought that it would be just like in high school when I would sit in a pew and pray and then all of a sudden all of my current problems and questions would be answered and lifted off my shoulders. That didn’t happen. Not even in a minimal sense. In fact, I think I actually left with more questions.

The first night of the retreat, when I realized that what I wanted from GOD was not happening, I was more than a little resentful about it. I sat there asking GOD “Why?” just “Why?” over and over again. The next morning I woke up with my answer.

I’m not a child anymore. I can’t just expect GOD to solve everything for me like He used to (even though He could if He chose to). The LORD puts trials and problems in my life to make me grow up. And even though they suck at the time, they ultimately draw me closer to Him and grow me into the woman He wants me to be. It doesn’t matter how many retreats or seminars or camps I go to. Those things are good, but they are no longer as crucial to my spiritual well being as they were when I was in youth. Instead, GOD speaks to me in quiet, unexpected moments of my life now. The moments when I feel like I have utterly and completely failed and I need grace; the moments when I look up at the stars and stand in awe before my Creator; the moments when I feel like I can’t get out of bed, let alone walk to class and He provides strength and sustenance for me.

You’d think that I could have left it at that, that that one realization would have been enough and I wouldn’t feel the need to overanalyze the way the LORD works. Of course, that’s how it should have been, but it’s not how it was. My next question for GOD was, “Why did you let me waste four years thinking that one way was right, only to let me discover at the end of them that that way was wrong?” Ironically enough, His answer was something that I had said to a friend a few months ago: “Sometimes there are things and places and people in our lives and at that time, those are right for us. And maybe the LORD will choose to take away those things and people and places later on, but that doesn’t mean that those things were ever wrong, it just means that we don’t need to have those things in our lives anymore.”

I don’t understand GOD. I want to, but I don’t. And the closer I think I’m about to get, the more I realize that I’m even farther away from comprehending Him than I originally thought. I question Him so, so much and when I get answers they always just make me have more questions. I have more to say, but I don’t feel like it right now. So instead, I’m off to the library!

I have three tests in the next two days. I should study for them. But I don’t really want to, so I wrote this instead.

Lately I’ve been trying to reduce my coffee consumption. Today was the first day in I don’t know how long that I only had one. Of course, I took it black to maximize the possible effect it could have on me. However, it is now a little after seven in the evening and that cup of coffee I had at eight AM is not in my system anymore. Or if it is, then it’s playing hide and go seek with the half a box of cheddar whales I just ate.

I’m excited for Spring Break. I’m finally going to read that stack of books by my bed. I’m going to sleep. A lot. I’m going to eat. A lot. Who knows, maybe I’ll go crazy and start running again too. I’m also super excited about seeing my brother and my dog and my dad and my mum.

I’ve been realizing lately that life can’t be planned. I mean, I’ve always superficially known that, but I never really believed it. And as much as it stressed me out to walk into my advisor’s office and admit that I had no clue what I wanted to do after college other than knowing that I do not want to teach, it was somewhat freeing too. It’s okay that I have no clue where I’ll be in five years. It’s five years away anyways.

A Description of the Perfect Man

1. He not only anticipates my quirks and strange habits, he also happens to think they’re adorable and hilarious.

2. He takes me out for good food.

3. He buys me legal pads. I love legal pads. I won’t leave home without one.

4. He listens to me complain and he takes my side while also tactfully pointing out the flaws in my logic. This is a rare talent.

5. He always brings me a crème soda in a glass bottle.

6. When he sees classical or eighties music in thrift stores, he buys it for me.

7. He is one of the safest people I know. He is always checking the perimeter for danger. He doesn’t jaywalk. He drives five miles under the speed limit. Ten if he’s telling a story.

8. He killed a bear with a knife. Even though I had nothing to do with this I definitely brag about it regularly.

9. He’s one of the few people I can sit in silence with and have it not be awkward. I think this is pretty cool.

"I'm just a little bit caught in the middle."

Lately my life has been a whirlwind of homework and tests and friendships and work and planning for spring break and summer and a new semester and dealing with my fears and my insecurities and my pride. It’s been crazy. I feel like I’m going crazy. I kind of feel like this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=elsh3J5lJ6g. (Sorry that the video is so weird...I really like the song though!)

Earlier my mind decided that it had had enough. So I went stargazing and listened to The Fray. As I lay there looking up at the glory displayed by GOD in His creation, I realized how much I want to be with Him and not here.

I get so caught up by this world. There are so many places I want to go and things I want to do with my life. I have so many hopes and dreams and expectations for the future. But this is temporary. One hundred years from now, temporal things won’t matter to me anymore, because I won’t be here. One day I won’t be here. That’s such a strange thought for me.

However, right now, I am here. So how do I reconcile all of this? How do I be here and think about there? For that matter, how do I not get so focused on Heaven that I forget that here and now matters too? I suppose it’s another quest for balance. Balance is a big deal for me. It seems like every problem in my life could be solved if I just found the right balance.

And so, here I am, more than a little overwhelmed by life and the future and the LORD. I think I know how David felt when he said, “Oh that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest; yes, I would wander far away; I would lodge in the wilderness; I would hurry to find a shelter from the raging wind and tempest.”

Last August, I prayed that the LORD would change my heart. I prayed that He would make me into the woman He desires me to be.  I guess I thought that one day I would just wake up and be that woman. Sadly, that is not the case. I do think that the LORD is using all of this craziness to bring me closer to being her though.

Confession: It's my fault that Border's went bankrupt.

Okay so today I went to a Border’s Bookstore that is being shutdown. If I hadn’t been so overcome with glee at the thought of getting brand new discounted books and classical music (above is a picture of my purchases!!!) I would have been depressed. Bookstores that are closing make me think of the movie “You’ve Got Mail”. They’re so sad and forlorn...and as Kathleen Kelly says, “I feel like a part of me has died.”

Anyways, being there and partaking in the frenzy also known as a closeout sale reminded me of an essay I wrote for my creative writing class in high school. So I thought I would share it with you. I tried to eliminate the blatantly awful spelling/grammar/phrasing issues, but I’m not sure I got them all, and I left some of the more amusing ones! (My favorites are the random citations that don’t really fit in with the essay and my sad attempts to use semi-colons!) Also, I’m very ashamed of my attitude at the end of this essay...most likely it’s the reason that Border’s is now bankrupt.

Buying Books at Border’s Bookstore

Just walking through the doors gives me a thrill. I hear some indie singer over the loudspeaker. I don’t know who she is, but I like her voice. Somewhere in the store, there’s a guy singing along. I can’t see him, but I can hear him. I am soaked. Outside Border’s Bookstore, it is raining.

First I go the self-help section. I NEVER buy anything from it, but I always look in it. There are always some amusing titles. Such as Ten Days to Self-Esteem or The Anxiety and Phobia Workbook.

From there, I move on to religion. Even if I don’t buy anything, I feel scholarly about browsing through it. A worker asks me if I need any help. I tell him that I don’t and turn back to a shelf full of C.S. Lewis books. He asks my opinion on C.S. Lewis. “He’s not that bad.”I mutter. I’m not much of a conversationalist when I shop for books. He recommends an author whom I’ve never heard of. I locate and browse through one of his works. It’s not very good; certainly not comparable to C.S. Lewis. However, the worker is now gone. I move on to John Piper books. After those, I look at the books about other religions; Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Baha’ism, Atheism, Unitarianism, almost anything you can think of. I look around. I make sure that there’s no one nearby. I quietly sneak over to the Tarot Cards. I can’t explain why, but I love looking at them. I’ve always wondered why they’re locked up. Are they really valuable? Do you have to be a certain age to buy them?

The last place I go is to the literature section. Of course, I snicker as I pass by the young adult section with all of its vampire, drama queen, werewolf junk. That section degrades Border’s, which was originally intended to serve an academic community.¹ I don’t think that anything in that part of the store should count as a book. Especially when you consider what while there are 25, 530 books in the literature section, there are only 15, 744 in the young adult section.² I love going to the literature section. That’s where the best books in the whole store can be found; from Jane Austen and Emily Bronte, to Ray Bradbury and J.R.R. Tolkien. Today, I’m looking for a certain book, Dicken’s Nicholas Nickleby. All of the books are organized alphabetically by author. I like to start at the beginning and work my way through each letter. That way, I know when something new comes in.

As I browse, I see a lady sitting off in a corner. She is reading a book. She has blondish curly hair, blue framed glasses, and a standoffish air. Last time I saw her, she was wearing glasses with brown frames. The time before that, they were green. I don’t see her every time I come here, but I see her often enough. She is always reading. I wonder if she ever buys the books that she reads.

They don’t have Nicholas Nickleby. Instead, I settle for a Pride and Prejudice knockoff, The Private Diary of Mr. Darcy. I take it up to the register. The line is really long today. Next to me is a rack with all of the different pens that Border’s sells. There is a pad of paper next to it so you can test them out. I look at all of the signatures on it. I see my friend Darcy’s familiar handwriting on it. Underneath her name, I sign my name as well. It’s funny how many things you can find at Border’s. Many people are surprised to hear that the original Border’s Bookstore sold used books.³

The checkout girl calls me up. I hand her my rewards card so that I can get my discount. She takes it without eve lookin at me. I hand her The Private Diary of Mr. Darcy; when she sees it, her expression changes completely.

“Are you a Pride and Prejudice fan too?” she asks excitedly. Without even giving me time to reply, she tells me about several other knockoff books that she has read, Austenland, Enthusiasm, and Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. I tell her that I haven’t really heard about them, but I mention and Indian movie called, “Bride and Prejudice” that my friends and I love. As she takes my money, she tells me that she’s going to look it up as soon as she gets off work.

I take my book over to the café. Of course, I have to have a cup of coffee as I read my new book. I stand in front of the counter, trying to decide what I want. I don’t like to get the same thing over and over again. That would be really boring. It would be easier to decide what I wanted if the woman behind the counter wouldn’t keep interrupting my thoughts. She keeps asking if I’ve decided what I want, or if I would like for her to tell me about the different types of coffee to choose from. What I really want at this point is for her to stop talking. But I can’t very well tell her that. Finally, for lack of a better option, I settle with the next thing I see: a cherry almond latte.

I sit down in the corner of the café while I wait for her to make my coffee. It’s still raining outside. I open my book. I’m midway through the first chapter when I hear someone calling my name. I have a tendency to tune everything out when I read. It takes me a while to realize that it’s the coffee girl. I run up to the counter and get my latte. I sit back down at my table and continue reading.

My book is rather disappointing. It isn’t at all like a diary written by a man as noble and gentlemanly as Mr. Darcy. My latte, on the other hand, is amazing. I think that it may be the best cup of coffee that I have ever had. Maybe from now on, I’ll spend my money on coffee, and just get my books from the library. That way, I can return the ones I don’t like.

Citations:

1.  http://www.borders.com/online/store/BGIView_bgiabouthistory

2.  http://www.borders/com/online/store/Landing?type=1&nav=5185&kids=false

3.  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borders_Bookstores\

PS if you made it all the way through this post you have waaaaay too much time on your hands.

Confession: I am clueless.

Today I had a revelation: I do not know what I want or need. I was reading Psalm 107, and over and over in that chapter the Psalmist talks about people who choose to live in the desert and darkness while enduring slavery and starvation instead of choosing to allow the LORD to care for them. My first reaction was to think about how stupid a person would have to be to choose a miserable life when GOD is right in front of them. Then I realized: I am that person.

I consistently choose the things that I want over the things I know the LORD wants for me. And honestly, isn’t that just as bad as being enslaved? When I choose to ignore the LORD’s conviction am I not choosing to be a ‘prisoner in affliction and irons’? When I choose to ignore GOD’s WORD, and do all those other things on my to-do list instead, am I not choosing to ‘wander in a desert waste...hungry and thirsty while my soul faints within me’?

There is hope though! When these people cried out to the LORD in their affliction, ‘He delivered them from their distress and led them by a straight way till they reached a city to dwell in...He brought them out of darkness and the shadow of death, and burst their bonds apart.’ It’s so comforting to know that even when my courage melts away the LORD is there. Even when I am at my wits’ end, I can cry out to the LORD and He will deliver me.

I really like the conclusion of chapter 107, “Whoever is wise, let him attend to these things; let them consider the steadfast love of the LORD.” GOD is faithful and sovereign and good and full of grace. He knows what I need, so it’s okay that I don’t know myself. He has plans for me, and even though I don’t have an inkling about what they are, He knows them and that’s enough.

Stranger Danger

A couple hours ago I went for a walk alone because I needed to clear my head. It wasn’t too late, but it had definitely been dark for a little while. I didn’t go anywhere sketchy or anything, but I was still on my guard...it was dark after all, and my dad is a big safety guy so I know all about ‘Stranger Danger’. So in order to scare off potential bad guys, I glared at everyone who so much as glanced at me with a passion that would have frightened off Charles Manson, and I sauntered around like I could kick off somebody’s face...even though I’m kind of short to be doing that. It also helped that I had a slight attitude problem for the duration of this walk...but don’t worry, I’ve had a couple cheeseburgers since then, and I’m feeling much more like my chipper self now!

Eventually I decided that I was done ambling aimlessly around campus and I headed back to my dorm. I had almost made it to the front door when I heard someone yell, “Hey you!” It was definitely one of those situations where I knew that the “Hey you!” was directed at me, and my first instinct was to turn around, but I was still in ‘Stranger Danger’ mode and that was screaming at me to run inside. So I compromised: I turned around and glared. This was not my brightest moment for two reasons: 1. If it really had been a bad guy, I would be dead in a ditch by now, because even my glowers aren’t quite strong enough to ward off the forces of evil...although I do try. 2. It was my suitemate yelling at me. Thankfully, she understands me, so I was able to explain the whole ‘Stranger Danger’ thing, and we got a good laugh out of it.

So now we’re back to the present, where I’m chugging coke and avoiding reading about ‘Poetry and Thought in Early China’. (I really do love my World Lit class, but Chinese Lit is just so...subjective.) So anyways, I was thinking about the whole ‘Stranger Danger’ thing and chuckling to myself, when I realized that sometimes I take on that mentality when there really is no danger. Not just when I take walks alone at night, but when I’m in an uncomfortable conversation or when I feel overwhelmed by a situation. Instead of dealing with what’s bothering me, I sit there and glare at it (metaphorically speaking of course). We all have our moments of brooding, and I have them down to an art form.

But that’s not what the LORD wants. Psalm 112:6-8 says, “For the righteous will never be moved; he will be remembered forever. He is not afraid of bad news; his heart is firm, trusting in the LORD. His heart is steady; he will not be afraid, until he looks in triumph on his adversaries.” When I get bad news or when something goes wrong, my gut reaction is to freak out and worry and brood and fret and obsess...for days. But that’s not GOD’s will. Bad news is bad...but that doesn’t mean that my life is over, and it doesn’t mean that there won’t ever be good news again, and it doesn’t mean that the LORD isn’t there for me anymore. My favorite Victor Huge quote is, “Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have finished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake.” A friend wrote that down for me a few years ago, and I still have it, but it’s one of those things that I forget about until I really need it.

So anyways...I should really do my World Lit homework now...procrastination is bad kids. You should always do your homework on a day other than the one before it’s due.