Over the last week or so I have a new hope, new dream, new aspiration for my life. For those of you who happen to know that I attended two and participated in one, coming to a grand total of three, weddings all in the span of one week, no, my new dream is not to be a bride. I am quite content with my consistency in being a bridesmaid and audience member and not yet being the bride, and am happy to keep it that way for quite sometime.
I have a new career goal, and it has nothing to do with my degree.
At the age of 5 I was determined to one day own my own bakery, essentially deciding that a baker must sit around all day and eat bread, therefore holding the title of the greatest occupation of all time. (For the record, if a baker does, in fact, sit around and eat bread all day, I still deem it the greatest occupation of all time.) I found myself mimicking my older sister's career aspirations all through elementary school, (interior designer? Really Cris?) and in 7th grade settled on the plan to one day become a psychologist. That plan carried me all through middle school, high school, college, and eventually across the commencement stage in Moody Coliseum last month. The only problem was that a few months before graduation I decided all I really wanted to do after I returned from Brazil was sell real estate. As much as I loved psychology, real estate seemed like a perfect fit. Still kind of does, actually. While you people are Facebooking and perusing blogs, (ok fine, not just you people, me people too) I am perusing real estate websites, looking at all the cool houses I would like to sell to you.
Well, parents who have graciously paid for my college education, never fear, the real estate dream has faded and a new one has taken its place. I want to be a writer when I grow up, whenever that may be. This new passion actually comes at quite the convenient time. Seeing as how I don't actually have a job for this summer, I can really take the next couple months to experience what life is like with no set schedule, and allow myself the time to brainstorm, organize, and pull together the ideas that will one day win me a Pulitzer.
I blame Don Miller and the author of The Kite Runner (I'm sorry, sir, that I don't know your name. Your book was wonderful and, obviously, inspiring) for this new obsession, for making the life of a writer seem so wonderfully attractive. I don't see myself making any progress on those psychology and real estate dreams while abroad, and writing is something I will be able to pursue in Brazil, writing to relax, to report, or just to practice.
I recently told a friend that I should be a professional life planner, because I think I have really good ideas for what people should do with their lives. Good to know I have not failed myself. Need some life advice? Need someone to encourage you to follow your dreams? I can help you. Hmm...maybe instead of being a writer I can just do that instead...
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Don Miller and Adam Levine?
I experienced the quintessential literary moment today. I only wish I was making this up, but in many ways I am nowhere near this mundanely creative to fabricate this kind of story.
As I was sitting in my backyard, enjoying the beginnings-of-summer, breezy weather, trying desperately to add some hue to my skin but dancing the line between brown and red, I was reading the latest Don Miller book and listening to the newest Maroon 5 album on my iPod. Sunbeams were poking in and out between the trees, every few minutes muted by a passing cloud. In the particular chapter I was reading, Don was talking about the life of a writer, not remembering what it was like to set an alarm and only knowing mornings that began with sunlight awaking him. He talked about how he writes only every few days, and how working for a publishing company before his writing career took off was a shaping experience. I paused for a minute and gazed off into the small ivy-weed-fern jungle growing in our yard below three towering trees. Adam Levine crooned in the background, some song sung in much too high of a falsetto to a beat perhaps slightly too poppy for my taste. I wondered what life would be like as a writer, being able to write your thoughts down and get paid for them, being able to say almost anything you wanted (until your editor got a hold, of course) and knowing people would want to read it simply because YOUR name was on the cover. I thought about if I could do it, if I would enjoy that life, and that perhaps by some stroke of luck someone will happen upon my blog while I am in Brazil and hire me as a travel writer, sending me around the world to write about exotic places some people only want to visit in a book. Then-- and this is the absolutely unbelievable part, and not in the least exaggerated-- a butterfly landed on the page my hand had been holding open during my daydream.
I kid you not. A butterfly.
This particular butterfly was brown with a badly damaged wing. Rather than take in the moment, I thought about how I once heard that butterflies only live for one day, and although I don't think that's even true, I thought about how he better get on with his life instead of waste his time perching on my book because life would be over for this little guy sooner rather than later. Then I thought about the last time I took the time to pay attention to a butterfly. I was about 9, and I remember walking past the playground in our apartment complex toward the direction of my elementary school. There were 2 butterflies, and in my mom's sex education words, they were "cuddling." I had never seen insects "cuddle" before, and I was fascinated when they flew away stuck together.
My wounded butterfly flew away before I had finished chuckling to myself over the cuddling butterflies, but I think he either came back for a visit later or sent his buddy to check me out. Either way, I became jealous of the life of a writer, the person who gets to create their office in Starbucks or their backyard. I'm sure some writer some place would have turned that very moment into a literary illustration about spiritual intervention or the fact that nature reminds us of something significant (this is the part where we see why Cris doesn't have a publishing contract), but all I had was butterflies doing it.
Next time I'll tell you about the unbelievable dream I once had about being married to Will Smith. It is a story of valiant loyalty and friendship. Until then, please keep the church in Natal in your prayers. Their LST team arrived today and will begin working tomorrow-- pray that God sends them lots of readers with open hearts and that that team has as wonderful of an experience as we did last summer!
Also, haven't reminded you of that link over there >>> in a while, so if you have it in your heart to contribute toward my internship, your generosity is welcomed!
As I was sitting in my backyard, enjoying the beginnings-of-summer, breezy weather, trying desperately to add some hue to my skin but dancing the line between brown and red, I was reading the latest Don Miller book and listening to the newest Maroon 5 album on my iPod. Sunbeams were poking in and out between the trees, every few minutes muted by a passing cloud. In the particular chapter I was reading, Don was talking about the life of a writer, not remembering what it was like to set an alarm and only knowing mornings that began with sunlight awaking him. He talked about how he writes only every few days, and how working for a publishing company before his writing career took off was a shaping experience. I paused for a minute and gazed off into the small ivy-weed-fern jungle growing in our yard below three towering trees. Adam Levine crooned in the background, some song sung in much too high of a falsetto to a beat perhaps slightly too poppy for my taste. I wondered what life would be like as a writer, being able to write your thoughts down and get paid for them, being able to say almost anything you wanted (until your editor got a hold, of course) and knowing people would want to read it simply because YOUR name was on the cover. I thought about if I could do it, if I would enjoy that life, and that perhaps by some stroke of luck someone will happen upon my blog while I am in Brazil and hire me as a travel writer, sending me around the world to write about exotic places some people only want to visit in a book. Then-- and this is the absolutely unbelievable part, and not in the least exaggerated-- a butterfly landed on the page my hand had been holding open during my daydream.
I kid you not. A butterfly.
This particular butterfly was brown with a badly damaged wing. Rather than take in the moment, I thought about how I once heard that butterflies only live for one day, and although I don't think that's even true, I thought about how he better get on with his life instead of waste his time perching on my book because life would be over for this little guy sooner rather than later. Then I thought about the last time I took the time to pay attention to a butterfly. I was about 9, and I remember walking past the playground in our apartment complex toward the direction of my elementary school. There were 2 butterflies, and in my mom's sex education words, they were "cuddling." I had never seen insects "cuddle" before, and I was fascinated when they flew away stuck together.
My wounded butterfly flew away before I had finished chuckling to myself over the cuddling butterflies, but I think he either came back for a visit later or sent his buddy to check me out. Either way, I became jealous of the life of a writer, the person who gets to create their office in Starbucks or their backyard. I'm sure some writer some place would have turned that very moment into a literary illustration about spiritual intervention or the fact that nature reminds us of something significant (this is the part where we see why Cris doesn't have a publishing contract), but all I had was butterflies doing it.
Next time I'll tell you about the unbelievable dream I once had about being married to Will Smith. It is a story of valiant loyalty and friendship. Until then, please keep the church in Natal in your prayers. Their LST team arrived today and will begin working tomorrow-- pray that God sends them lots of readers with open hearts and that that team has as wonderful of an experience as we did last summer!
Also, haven't reminded you of that link over there >>> in a while, so if you have it in your heart to contribute toward my internship, your generosity is welcomed!
Saturday, May 19, 2007
From the barren wastelands of Oklahoma...
Despite what all you Texans may think, my corner of the globe is actually much more good-looking than the majority of your state. This may come across as a fairly hostile way to begin a new entry, but recently I have received not one, but two comments on what a shame it must be to be from a "barren wasteland" or whatever clever words you people choose to make yourselves feel better about where you are from. These comments are nothing new, nothing original, and I willingly chose to be subjected to the Texan Snobbery when I made the decision to go to ACU. But I'm gone now, and I choose to put up with it no more. Texans, bring it on. (Before you get entirely, speechlessly offended, keep in mind that 1. I am not actually challenging you to a fight and that 2. I am half made of Texan blood. My father would be just as fired up at my fightin' words as you are.)
I've been home in Oklahoma for 2 days now, and for the first time since high school our family of 4 + 1 are all living under one roof. So far we are in the honeymoon phase, enjoying our time together sharing bathrooms, driveways, and lovingly poking fun at our mom. Hopefully it will be a long honeymoon, and we even have a few out-of-country trips planned to keep it interesting (not with each other, though, which might be the secret to familial bliss.)
It still hasn't hit me that I am a college graduate, and as I look for babysitting jobs to keep my cell phone bill paid for the summer, I don't make much progress in attaining that realization. Some of my friends are sending in resumes for big girl jobs, but not me. I'll be a nanny 3 days a week, thanks.
To my two special friends who leave on Friday for The Most Exciting Trip of Your Lives, GOOD LUCK! I'm already praying for you and can't wait to hear all about it. Take good care of South America for me, I'll be there soon.
Cheers, friends, and please watch this for the greatest laugh of your life.
I've been home in Oklahoma for 2 days now, and for the first time since high school our family of 4 + 1 are all living under one roof. So far we are in the honeymoon phase, enjoying our time together sharing bathrooms, driveways, and lovingly poking fun at our mom. Hopefully it will be a long honeymoon, and we even have a few out-of-country trips planned to keep it interesting (not with each other, though, which might be the secret to familial bliss.)
It still hasn't hit me that I am a college graduate, and as I look for babysitting jobs to keep my cell phone bill paid for the summer, I don't make much progress in attaining that realization. Some of my friends are sending in resumes for big girl jobs, but not me. I'll be a nanny 3 days a week, thanks.
To my two special friends who leave on Friday for The Most Exciting Trip of Your Lives, GOOD LUCK! I'm already praying for you and can't wait to hear all about it. Take good care of South America for me, I'll be there soon.
Cheers, friends, and please watch this for the greatest laugh of your life.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Blog me this
I have mentioned before on this thing that I am a bit promiscuous when it comes to reading other people's blogs. I'm not even ashamed that I am a blog stalker and I am not ashamed that on many, many occasions I begin a conversation with "So I read your blog, and..."
Although I find it curious that, as Facebook declares, perusing blogs really is a primary interest of mine, I find the reason for why this is even more curious. What is it about an online journal that I find so fascinating? A better question would be why do I, and the other members of my generation (I'm not only gonna incriminate myself, here), find this voyeuristic hobby so enthralling?
I think the reason I love perusing the blogosphere so much is that it invites me in to snippets of my friends' lives without an actual invitation. (Important disclaimer here: friends in the above sentence is a key phrase. I read very, very few blogs of people I don't know, and when I do it's usually because I have some connection to them. I'm not so much of a blog freak that I just click "next blog" for hours on end...my perusing doesn't quite go that far.) I get to find out about how their kids are doing, what great vacations they just went on, how they will spend their summer, how life since I saw them last has been turning out, what they thought of the most recent episode of Grey's Anatomy, and general life-tidbits that are much more interesting in writing. For example, the reason I love reading my friend Justin's blog is because he usually has something interesting to say about national/world events. He is very smart, very well-read, and always has a sarcastic comment or two to keep me coming back. I read Ann's blog because in order to be able to keep up in a conversation with my mom I kind of have to. (Haha, just kidding. Two and half of you will appreciate that. The other half of one of you will appreciate it but try to hide it with disdain.)
I don't enjoy blogging myself as much as I wish I did, but am already looking forward to updating once I am in Natal. After all, you who have been around from the beginning remember that was the sole reason I decided to begin blogging in the first place. I don't support subjecting innocent recipients to unwarranted mass-emails, so in order to keep up with my comings and goings in Brazil, my friends and family will be able to choose when they want updates.
One more thing. The list to the right is by no means a comprehensive list of the blogs I peruse. I would say that list represents about one-fourth. I just don't have the guts yet to admit publicly how many and whose blogs I am actually keeping up with on a regular basis. However, I would love to know who drops by this site, even if only occasionally, so please say hello when you do.
Fundraising update: As of this past weekend, I only lack $975 for my first year of work in Natal.In case you were wondering...that is INCREDIBLE. Muito obrigada!! (Thank you very much, for you non-Portuguese speakers.)
Although I find it curious that, as Facebook declares, perusing blogs really is a primary interest of mine, I find the reason for why this is even more curious. What is it about an online journal that I find so fascinating? A better question would be why do I, and the other members of my generation (I'm not only gonna incriminate myself, here), find this voyeuristic hobby so enthralling?
I think the reason I love perusing the blogosphere so much is that it invites me in to snippets of my friends' lives without an actual invitation. (Important disclaimer here: friends in the above sentence is a key phrase. I read very, very few blogs of people I don't know, and when I do it's usually because I have some connection to them. I'm not so much of a blog freak that I just click "next blog" for hours on end...my perusing doesn't quite go that far.) I get to find out about how their kids are doing, what great vacations they just went on, how they will spend their summer, how life since I saw them last has been turning out, what they thought of the most recent episode of Grey's Anatomy, and general life-tidbits that are much more interesting in writing. For example, the reason I love reading my friend Justin's blog is because he usually has something interesting to say about national/world events. He is very smart, very well-read, and always has a sarcastic comment or two to keep me coming back. I read Ann's blog because in order to be able to keep up in a conversation with my mom I kind of have to. (Haha, just kidding. Two and half of you will appreciate that. The other half of one of you will appreciate it but try to hide it with disdain.)
I don't enjoy blogging myself as much as I wish I did, but am already looking forward to updating once I am in Natal. After all, you who have been around from the beginning remember that was the sole reason I decided to begin blogging in the first place. I don't support subjecting innocent recipients to unwarranted mass-emails, so in order to keep up with my comings and goings in Brazil, my friends and family will be able to choose when they want updates.
One more thing. The list to the right is by no means a comprehensive list of the blogs I peruse. I would say that list represents about one-fourth. I just don't have the guts yet to admit publicly how many and whose blogs I am actually keeping up with on a regular basis. However, I would love to know who drops by this site, even if only occasionally, so please say hello when you do.
Fundraising update: As of this past weekend, I only lack $975 for my first year of work in Natal.In case you were wondering...that is INCREDIBLE. Muito obrigada!! (Thank you very much, for you non-Portuguese speakers.)
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Nothing compares 2 u
I don't know why I have refrained from listening to the 90s channel on cable until now, but it has significantly improved the quality of two already very good days. Last night, after another rousing game of Life, I sat in my living room alone staring at the TV, soaking in the goodness that was coming from its very tiny speakers. I've known many a person who is obsessed with the 80s, but have yet to find someone who loves the 90s as much as I do. I would live that decade over and over and over again if I could, oversized shirts, grunge rock, TGIF and all.
I don't want to hog all the music to myself, so join me for a trip down memory lane as we look over some of my favorite tunes from the best decade of all time:
One Headlight- The Wallflowers
Basket Case- Green Day
1,2,3,4 Get Your Woman on the Floor- Coolio
Nothing Compares 2 U- Sinead O'Connor
All I Wanna Do- Sheryl Crow
Tubthumping- Chumbawumba
Pretty Fly for a White Guy- The Offspring
The Way- Fastball
Gangsta's Paradise- Coolio
Head Over Feet- Alanis Morissette
Kiss From a Rose- Seal
I Love You Always Forever- Donna Lewis
1979- Smashing Pumpkins
Killing Me Softly- The Fugees
Selling the Drama- Live
Lightning Crashes- Live
Roll to Me- Del Amitri
Fantasy- Mariah Carey
Love Rollercoaster- Red Hot Chili Peppers
Don't Speak- No Doubt
Semi-Charmed Life- 3rd Eye Blind
Truly Madly Deeply- Savage Garden
All Mixed Up- 311
Walking on the Sun- Smashmouth
Crazy- Aerosmith
Wonderwall- Oasis
Buddy Holly- Weezer
Runaway Train- Soul Asylum
Misery- Soul Asylum
Only Happy When it Rains- Garbage
Only Wanna Be with You- Hootie and the Blowfish
Freshmen- Verve Pipe
Bittersweet Symphony- The Verve
Kiss Me- Sixpence None the Richer
Big Bang Baby- STP
I Want You- Savage Garden
How Bizarre- OMC
I actually could go on and on...and on and on...but these are the first few that come to mind. You may notice that there is large representation from the years spanning about 1994-1997. That was what I qualify as the pinnacle of alternative rock, when Green Day, No Doubt, Stone Temple Pilots, Smashing Pumpkins, and most of the one-hit-wonders were in their hey day. Thanks to VH1's "I Love the 90s," I have also determined that 1997 was the best year of my life, period, and so that also explains why so much of this music comes from that time period.
Any additions, friends? Kelly I know you will have some input to share...
I don't want to hog all the music to myself, so join me for a trip down memory lane as we look over some of my favorite tunes from the best decade of all time:
One Headlight- The Wallflowers
Basket Case- Green Day
1,2,3,4 Get Your Woman on the Floor- Coolio
Nothing Compares 2 U- Sinead O'Connor
All I Wanna Do- Sheryl Crow
Tubthumping- Chumbawumba
Pretty Fly for a White Guy- The Offspring
The Way- Fastball
Gangsta's Paradise- Coolio
Head Over Feet- Alanis Morissette
Kiss From a Rose- Seal
I Love You Always Forever- Donna Lewis
1979- Smashing Pumpkins
Killing Me Softly- The Fugees
Selling the Drama- Live
Lightning Crashes- Live
Roll to Me- Del Amitri
Fantasy- Mariah Carey
Love Rollercoaster- Red Hot Chili Peppers
Don't Speak- No Doubt
Semi-Charmed Life- 3rd Eye Blind
Truly Madly Deeply- Savage Garden
All Mixed Up- 311
Walking on the Sun- Smashmouth
Crazy- Aerosmith
Wonderwall- Oasis
Buddy Holly- Weezer
Runaway Train- Soul Asylum
Misery- Soul Asylum
Only Happy When it Rains- Garbage
Only Wanna Be with You- Hootie and the Blowfish
Freshmen- Verve Pipe
Bittersweet Symphony- The Verve
Kiss Me- Sixpence None the Richer
Big Bang Baby- STP
I Want You- Savage Garden
How Bizarre- OMC
I actually could go on and on...and on and on...but these are the first few that come to mind. You may notice that there is large representation from the years spanning about 1994-1997. That was what I qualify as the pinnacle of alternative rock, when Green Day, No Doubt, Stone Temple Pilots, Smashing Pumpkins, and most of the one-hit-wonders were in their hey day. Thanks to VH1's "I Love the 90s," I have also determined that 1997 was the best year of my life, period, and so that also explains why so much of this music comes from that time period.
Any additions, friends? Kelly I know you will have some input to share...
Monday, May 7, 2007
Lifetime Achievement Award
Finals week is always my favorite week of the semester. "Is Cris deluded?" you ask. No. Quite the opposite. Consistently, for eight glorious semesters, finals week has been the most fun week of the semester because that's when the best hanging out is done. No matter that we all have ridiculously large tests to be studying for, (well, not we all, my 5 hour semester is turning out quite nicely for me during finals, and only throwing one my way on Friday,) we know it will be a long time before we have these chances to play again, so we make every minute count.
Last night, after organizing our own, very successful mind you, midnight breakfast at IHOP, some of us came back to our house to hang out further into the night...er...morning. It seemed like a good idea to turn on one of the music channels on cable as background music, and then it seemed like a really good idea to start playing The Game of Life at around 2 in the morning. I had never played The Game of Life, but given that we are all about to graduate from college in 3 short days and move on to "the real world" (except not really, we had 3 who are going to grad school, one who will be student teaching, and me, who is escaping the real world to live in Brazil for a year or two) it seemed like a good idea to get some practice on what real life is like through a board game.
I won, but that's rather insignificant. It took us an hour and a half to finish, (yes, Mom, 3:30 am during finals. Gasp!) and that hour and a half was some of the most fun I have had this semester. In addition to winning, I also won the Lifetime Achievement Award, discovered a Solution to Pollution, and invented a toy. My life turned out rather nicely if you ask me, and all while driving a little red car with my husband in the front seat.
All this fun we've been having just makes the quickly-approaching graduation ceremony on Saturday less and less exciting and more and more looming. As excited as I am about what God has in store for my future, I'm not ready to let go of this place that has been my home for the last four years.
Pulling from one the greatest television show of all time (tied with Arrested Development, of course) I now leave you with "Farewell Bayside," the graduation theme from Saved by the Bell's Bayside High School. Although I may not have spent time at the Max, and I think I went to one ACU football game ever, and most definitely never went on a double date, Zack, Kelly, Lisa, Jessie, Screech, and Slater sum it all up pretty perfectly for me:
It seems like only yesterday we started,
But soon we'll put away our books and pens.
We'll go on with our lives once we have parted,
But how can we say farewell to our friends?
Um now if you thought any part of me was serious in posting those lyrics, I encourage you to introduce yourself to me and get a grip. :) I am, however, dreading the goodbyes that have already begun and am predicting right now that this is only the first of many "I can't believe it's over" posts. Happy finals and cheers to you until next time!
Last night, after organizing our own, very successful mind you, midnight breakfast at IHOP, some of us came back to our house to hang out further into the night...er...morning. It seemed like a good idea to turn on one of the music channels on cable as background music, and then it seemed like a really good idea to start playing The Game of Life at around 2 in the morning. I had never played The Game of Life, but given that we are all about to graduate from college in 3 short days and move on to "the real world" (except not really, we had 3 who are going to grad school, one who will be student teaching, and me, who is escaping the real world to live in Brazil for a year or two) it seemed like a good idea to get some practice on what real life is like through a board game.
I won, but that's rather insignificant. It took us an hour and a half to finish, (yes, Mom, 3:30 am during finals. Gasp!) and that hour and a half was some of the most fun I have had this semester. In addition to winning, I also won the Lifetime Achievement Award, discovered a Solution to Pollution, and invented a toy. My life turned out rather nicely if you ask me, and all while driving a little red car with my husband in the front seat.
All this fun we've been having just makes the quickly-approaching graduation ceremony on Saturday less and less exciting and more and more looming. As excited as I am about what God has in store for my future, I'm not ready to let go of this place that has been my home for the last four years.
Pulling from one the greatest television show of all time (tied with Arrested Development, of course) I now leave you with "Farewell Bayside," the graduation theme from Saved by the Bell's Bayside High School. Although I may not have spent time at the Max, and I think I went to one ACU football game ever, and most definitely never went on a double date, Zack, Kelly, Lisa, Jessie, Screech, and Slater sum it all up pretty perfectly for me:
It seems like only yesterday we started,
But soon we'll put away our books and pens.
We'll go on with our lives once we have parted,
But how can we say farewell to our friends?
The double dates, the parties, and the dances,
Crammin' for a midterm until three.
The football games, the Max, and the romances,
Soon Bayside will be just a memory.
Our four years here have all become unraveled,
And so our high school story finally ends.
But years from now, no matter where we've traveled,
We'll all look back and think about our friends.
We'll all look back and think about our friends.
Um now if you thought any part of me was serious in posting those lyrics, I encourage you to introduce yourself to me and get a grip. :) I am, however, dreading the goodbyes that have already begun and am predicting right now that this is only the first of many "I can't believe it's over" posts. Happy finals and cheers to you until next time!
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Community
From what I can tell, one of the big buzz words in the postmodern church right now is community. Perhaps the word has been buzzing for a while and I just started to hear it, but it seems as though every author I read has something to say about it and every sermon I hear mentions its benefits. Shane Claiborne has quite a bit to say about community, as does Mike Cope. I've heard more definitions of what community really means than I know what to do with, but over the last few months I have actually managed to conjure up a definition of my own of what community means to me.
My definition has no words-- not my own, anyway. My definition has come through experience. Through hugs. Through text messages. Through Facebook. Through contributions. Through questions. Through interest. Through the birthday/going away party my roommates threw for me tonight.
My community is the people who have cried with me in my sadness, confusion, and disappointment. They are the ones who have encouraged me to not give up. They are the ones who unquestioningly believe that "it's all going to work out," and make sure to tell me so. They are the ones who don't cease to be friends with me, even when I'm being irrational. :) They have offered to pray for me, with me, and over me. They have spoken godly words of wisdom and encouraged me to take even the slightest of positive events as signs of God's approval and delight.
I think the beauty of community (other than the fact that those two words rhyme...) is that, of the qualities I just described, they all have been effortless. My community did not make the decision to be encouraging, they just encouraged. They did not choose to share my tears, they just cried.
My community has shown me what it means to live in 1 Corinthians 13, always protecting, always trusting, always hoping, and always persevering.
My definition has no words-- not my own, anyway. My definition has come through experience. Through hugs. Through text messages. Through Facebook. Through contributions. Through questions. Through interest. Through the birthday/going away party my roommates threw for me tonight.
My community is the people who have cried with me in my sadness, confusion, and disappointment. They are the ones who have encouraged me to not give up. They are the ones who unquestioningly believe that "it's all going to work out," and make sure to tell me so. They are the ones who don't cease to be friends with me, even when I'm being irrational. :) They have offered to pray for me, with me, and over me. They have spoken godly words of wisdom and encouraged me to take even the slightest of positive events as signs of God's approval and delight.
I think the beauty of community (other than the fact that those two words rhyme...) is that, of the qualities I just described, they all have been effortless. My community did not make the decision to be encouraging, they just encouraged. They did not choose to share my tears, they just cried.
My community has shown me what it means to live in 1 Corinthians 13, always protecting, always trusting, always hoping, and always persevering.
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