sometimes our only way is jumping
i hope you're not afraid of heights.
...Or depths, because the well is waaaaay deep my friends. The weekend was incredible.
I promise I haven't said it every year for the last 8 times or however many SLAs I've been to, but this weekend was absolutely amazing. Exactly what it needed to be to fulfill its purpose...for me, for everyone else, and as the last of its kind. I wasn't skeptical going in or anything. I was too wrapped up in my own selfish thoughts about finding my place anyway. And I knew the committee could do great things. The company of people who have been there before was missed. But the weekend didn't lack anything with your absence, and not because you don't make a difference, but because the difference you've made is lasting. You were everywhere I looked this weekend.
There's nothing like watching a group of immature 9th graders sort through questions like, "Do science and the Bible jive?" and "Do Jews and other non-Christians go to heaven?" and "Does God ordain war?" then come out on the other end ok that they now have more questions than answers. I love that camp still teaches us to ask questions without really expecting answers. Because what's the point of faith if we have all the answers??
Hiking up the mountain with Brett, Mary Catherine, and Joey Sunday morning was so much fun. It's really hard to hike a 60 degree incline and talk and laugh all at the same time, but we pulled it off with no problem. It was Brett's first time to hike it. I don't know how that happened. Joey is purely hilarious. Mary Catherine makes me laugh, she says, because she knows which buttons to push. I suppose that's true. Little does she know that I do awkward and stupid things just to see her imitation of them. Then I laugh. She thinks the jokes on me but really it's on her.
If I wasn't Jenny, I'd want to be Mary Chesnutt. I said the same thing several years ago about Camille Sprattling, and I'm sure it's still true, but I know Mary now so it's time to update my decision.
Jameson wore me out this weekend with all his craziness. I've never loved and never will love anyone who I wanted to hit upside the head more than I love Jameson. Does that sentence make any sense? I don't care. He knows what I mean.
If you had told me 7 or 8 years ago that Eric and I would be the way we are now, I would have called you crazy. I look at him and it feels like home. We hug and it fits like connecting puzzle pieces. And that's all we need from each other. My persistence? His grace? I'm not sure.
Embrace Your Journey. I now own an amazing piece of art done by Chrystal Henderson during Saturday morning's program to demonstrate the value of living out our true identity. There was a silent auction and Brett and Jameson collaborated to win it for me, and Robin stopped bidding so they would win. I don't deserve that kind of love, do I? Nobody does really. That's the beauty of it I suppose.
The speaker blew me away. And the band sounded like Nickel Creek. The weekend had its share of frustrations for the committee and team, I know, but they did an incredible job anyway. I didn't do much to help them, which was more fun and not nearly as awkward as I thought it would be. Who knew? I don't have to be in control to have a place or to enjoy my time at camp. I was in a better place to receive what the weekend had to offer. I'm renewed and thankful.
I have a new desk chair so get used to longer entries. This one has the potential to be very very long. A lot of random thoughts. My rant about the greatness of this past weekend isn't a true indication of my current mood. I'm pretty poopy for whatever reason. Does the fact that I can experience such extreme sadness mean that I'm equally capable of experiencing extreme happiness with equally little provocation? I think it does. Because I'm one very happy girl. Most of the time. But not now. And no I'm not bipolar. Happy is not a synonym for manic.
I'm not meant to live alone, especially given my tendency to get lost in my own thoughts. When Blake has a test, I live alone. Granted I'm not usually here on the weekends so it's not like I'm the best company providing roommate. He was here at some point last night. I think. But I was alone in the car for several hours, alone until I went to bed, alone before I went to class, and alone right now. Except for a few brief phone calls and one at the end that was actually more isolating than not, I was way too alone. Guess I could have called people, but I got caught in the downward spiral of aloneness and didn't muster up the initiative to pick up the phone. Or anything else productive for that matter.
Also didn't help that I was greeted with a very brutal reminder of last week's drama upon returning to my computer. The dichotomy of lingering feelings from camp and feelings experienced at this desk provided for a rather stifling transition. Transitions aren't my cup of tea. BUT the irony of my last entry (a reaction to the drama) is incredible given all the talk about identity this weekend, and given the time I was able to spend with people who know me for what is essentially me. It's not that I'm defined by them any more than I'm defined by people who call me a monster. My identity is what it is regardless of how people perceive me. It's just that my friends and family are good reminders of who and whose I am.
You know where I keep my better side, so thanks for that. I have to post this prayer even though Mary did already. That way it's a seemingly more permanent fixture of my better side. Behold the prayer that kicked my butt...
God, sometimes life confounds us. In spite of all our learning and efforts to understand, there are times when meaning is flipped on its head. "How can these things be?" we ask. Grant us the grace to live into the questions, the courage to let go of worn-out truths, and the faith to trust that a new truth will appear. Help our seeking be more full of joy than anxiety and our living be more full of gratitude than regret. Then we will know this time between now and not yet to be a rich blessing. All glory be to you, Spirit of Life. Amen.
I made an 85 on the test I failed last Wednesday. Half relief because I thought it was much worse and half disappointment because I could have done better under different circumstances. Attributional style 101. I make attributions about negative outcomes that promote a more stable and positive view of self. Thank you.
And while we're talking psychology...I'd be very interested to know how growing up under an autonomy-granting parenting style (vs. psychological control) might affect the current functioning of college students...emotional and relationship stability, academic achievement, etc. Find out, let me know, and I'll give you a cookie. I'll even give you a chocolate chip double doozie from the cookie company.
Ok so I guess I'll stop now. Wait one more thing.
I'm too scared to know how I feel now. I hold things close in the back of my mind, without failing to appreciate the fact that my ability to love is a reflection of the enormous amount of love I've been given until now. I'm with John on this one...I'll eventually see the love I give come back to me. It's a season thing, remember? There's no substitute for time.
For now I just smile and say, "I'll see you around."
...Or depths, because the well is waaaaay deep my friends. The weekend was incredible.
I promise I haven't said it every year for the last 8 times or however many SLAs I've been to, but this weekend was absolutely amazing. Exactly what it needed to be to fulfill its purpose...for me, for everyone else, and as the last of its kind. I wasn't skeptical going in or anything. I was too wrapped up in my own selfish thoughts about finding my place anyway. And I knew the committee could do great things. The company of people who have been there before was missed. But the weekend didn't lack anything with your absence, and not because you don't make a difference, but because the difference you've made is lasting. You were everywhere I looked this weekend.
There's nothing like watching a group of immature 9th graders sort through questions like, "Do science and the Bible jive?" and "Do Jews and other non-Christians go to heaven?" and "Does God ordain war?" then come out on the other end ok that they now have more questions than answers. I love that camp still teaches us to ask questions without really expecting answers. Because what's the point of faith if we have all the answers??
Hiking up the mountain with Brett, Mary Catherine, and Joey Sunday morning was so much fun. It's really hard to hike a 60 degree incline and talk and laugh all at the same time, but we pulled it off with no problem. It was Brett's first time to hike it. I don't know how that happened. Joey is purely hilarious. Mary Catherine makes me laugh, she says, because she knows which buttons to push. I suppose that's true. Little does she know that I do awkward and stupid things just to see her imitation of them. Then I laugh. She thinks the jokes on me but really it's on her.
If I wasn't Jenny, I'd want to be Mary Chesnutt. I said the same thing several years ago about Camille Sprattling, and I'm sure it's still true, but I know Mary now so it's time to update my decision.
Jameson wore me out this weekend with all his craziness. I've never loved and never will love anyone who I wanted to hit upside the head more than I love Jameson. Does that sentence make any sense? I don't care. He knows what I mean.
If you had told me 7 or 8 years ago that Eric and I would be the way we are now, I would have called you crazy. I look at him and it feels like home. We hug and it fits like connecting puzzle pieces. And that's all we need from each other. My persistence? His grace? I'm not sure.
Embrace Your Journey. I now own an amazing piece of art done by Chrystal Henderson during Saturday morning's program to demonstrate the value of living out our true identity. There was a silent auction and Brett and Jameson collaborated to win it for me, and Robin stopped bidding so they would win. I don't deserve that kind of love, do I? Nobody does really. That's the beauty of it I suppose.
The speaker blew me away. And the band sounded like Nickel Creek. The weekend had its share of frustrations for the committee and team, I know, but they did an incredible job anyway. I didn't do much to help them, which was more fun and not nearly as awkward as I thought it would be. Who knew? I don't have to be in control to have a place or to enjoy my time at camp. I was in a better place to receive what the weekend had to offer. I'm renewed and thankful.
I have a new desk chair so get used to longer entries. This one has the potential to be very very long. A lot of random thoughts. My rant about the greatness of this past weekend isn't a true indication of my current mood. I'm pretty poopy for whatever reason. Does the fact that I can experience such extreme sadness mean that I'm equally capable of experiencing extreme happiness with equally little provocation? I think it does. Because I'm one very happy girl. Most of the time. But not now. And no I'm not bipolar. Happy is not a synonym for manic.
I'm not meant to live alone, especially given my tendency to get lost in my own thoughts. When Blake has a test, I live alone. Granted I'm not usually here on the weekends so it's not like I'm the best company providing roommate. He was here at some point last night. I think. But I was alone in the car for several hours, alone until I went to bed, alone before I went to class, and alone right now. Except for a few brief phone calls and one at the end that was actually more isolating than not, I was way too alone. Guess I could have called people, but I got caught in the downward spiral of aloneness and didn't muster up the initiative to pick up the phone. Or anything else productive for that matter.
Also didn't help that I was greeted with a very brutal reminder of last week's drama upon returning to my computer. The dichotomy of lingering feelings from camp and feelings experienced at this desk provided for a rather stifling transition. Transitions aren't my cup of tea. BUT the irony of my last entry (a reaction to the drama) is incredible given all the talk about identity this weekend, and given the time I was able to spend with people who know me for what is essentially me. It's not that I'm defined by them any more than I'm defined by people who call me a monster. My identity is what it is regardless of how people perceive me. It's just that my friends and family are good reminders of who and whose I am.
You know where I keep my better side, so thanks for that. I have to post this prayer even though Mary did already. That way it's a seemingly more permanent fixture of my better side. Behold the prayer that kicked my butt...
God, sometimes life confounds us. In spite of all our learning and efforts to understand, there are times when meaning is flipped on its head. "How can these things be?" we ask. Grant us the grace to live into the questions, the courage to let go of worn-out truths, and the faith to trust that a new truth will appear. Help our seeking be more full of joy than anxiety and our living be more full of gratitude than regret. Then we will know this time between now and not yet to be a rich blessing. All glory be to you, Spirit of Life. Amen.
I made an 85 on the test I failed last Wednesday. Half relief because I thought it was much worse and half disappointment because I could have done better under different circumstances. Attributional style 101. I make attributions about negative outcomes that promote a more stable and positive view of self. Thank you.
And while we're talking psychology...I'd be very interested to know how growing up under an autonomy-granting parenting style (vs. psychological control) might affect the current functioning of college students...emotional and relationship stability, academic achievement, etc. Find out, let me know, and I'll give you a cookie. I'll even give you a chocolate chip double doozie from the cookie company.
Ok so I guess I'll stop now. Wait one more thing.
I'm too scared to know how I feel now. I hold things close in the back of my mind, without failing to appreciate the fact that my ability to love is a reflection of the enormous amount of love I've been given until now. I'm with John on this one...I'll eventually see the love I give come back to me. It's a season thing, remember? There's no substitute for time.
For now I just smile and say, "I'll see you around."