messes

messes. who likes them? I'm pretty sure no one. they might be fun to make. ok, they are typically very fun to make. but cleaning up? that's certainly a drag.

I may not be the most organized, clean person, but I still don't like messes. 

I've been praying since I moved that God would use me. that I would find a place where I could serve. that I could be a witness and a valuable member of God's kingdom. and yet, I haven't found a place quite yet. 

or at least I didn't think I had. 

I wanted this to fit into a nice, neat box. volunteering every Tuesday night at a homeless shelter, inner city, habitat, hospital, etc. -- surely that was the way to go. and while I'm not saying it's not, I haven't found that specific opportunity yet. rather, something else: life.

situations have surfaced around me that I've shied away from. a friend went MIA for awhile, and I heard he was in rehab. rehab??! what?! no way. he surfaced today and my first reaction was avoidance. I didn't know how to react. how awkward. 

then I started thinking about the bravery it takes to admit that something is wrong in your life. to admit you have a problem and to take steps to fix it. to publicly admit that you need help and then COME BACK to face everyone who knows. WHOA. how courageous! how strong! how amazing! at this eye-opening realization, I almost wept. and wanted to welcome this person with a hug. and love. and acceptance. and happiness. I felt a little bit of what the father might have felt with the prodigal son. maybe just a hint. 

isn't that a little messy? 

another one of my friends from the past is believed to be gay and wants to get together (we haven't talked in what feels like forever). my initial reaction was to ignore. this is clearly not a situation I need to be in. this is messy! it will surely be awkward. I'll just ignore. who cares? 

but then I thought about Jesus. and it gnawed at me. would Jesus ignore someone reaching out because of a sin? no way! Jesus would seek them out to hang out. come over to my place. let's be friends. 

Jesus embraces messes. and a good thing, too, because I'm a mess! I'm so thankful God doesn't ignore me. 

when life gets a little scary, and awkward, and...well...messy -- I have to turn to the Word for perspective. my instincts and the world may tell me to back away from messes, but Jesus always embraces. and as a mess myself, I am ever thankful. 

seasons

I love the imagery of seasons. the way the physical, earthly seasons parallel our physical, early seasons in life.

seasons are fascinating and difficult and beautiful. when you're in the heart of one season, it seems like it will never change. think about it: when you're building a snowman or sweating balls in the heat of summer, are you thinking about how the next season is coming? I surely am not.

about four years ago, a wise friend told me in a particularly rough season: "ash, you're just in a season. season's change."

in that moment, I wanted to thump her on the head. I was in Siberia, and she was telling me Hawaii was around the corner. I couldn't see past the snow and cold. it felt like it would surely last forever. in my mind, Hawaii didn't even exist.

and then a funny thing happened. I can't put my finger on when exactly, but I woke up one day to find lush, beautiful greenery covering my life. somehow, the cold had left and been replaced by warmth and fellowship and deep joy. my season had changed. in the same way it doesn't go from 30 F to 90 F overnight, it was a transition I can't quite pinpoint, but it was beautiful and wonderful and awe-inspiring. I remember thinking to myself, "ye of little faith. God provides. and seasons DO change. don't doubt again."

but it's hard to remember the spring when you're in fall.

and as I find myself in a particularly challenging, confusing, sometimes painful and lonely season, I am reminded of His promises. and His goodness. and that His plans don't revolve around just my life or my happiness. there's a bigger picture.

seasons change, and from the ground, new life occurs. as good ol gungor says:

all around hope is springing up from this old ground
out of chaos life is being found in You
you make beautiful things out of the dust
you make beautiful things out of us.

I suppose no matter what season we're in, it's going to change. it's the nature of life; the nature of nature. but God is good. and the final, everlasting season is life. beautiful, abundant life.

leaving

the calendar days are slowing diminishing, and sometimes this hits me like a wall. a wave of emotion and fear and sadness and disbelief all mingle and crash over my consciousness. it's been building up, but I've put it on the back shelf of my mind, right behind my five year plan and what I'm going to do when I grow up.

moving has become something I've been able to deal with from a distance. but distance is creeping closer.

tonight the wave hit and a thousand thoughts rushed in all at once. I think of when I moved here. how I cried daily at the loss of the familiar. I missed my family, my friends, everything I'd known my whole life. and now I cry for the things I've gained since being here, things I can't imagine my life without. that my best friends won't be there to giggle or tease me every time I order a pop. that snow will actually occur without the whole world shutting down. that sweet tea won't be a staple at every restaurant, people will probably stare when I say y'all, and I won't be able to sing along quite as loudly to sweet home alabama.

I cry for the things that alabama means to me. for a proof that I can survive on my own, away from my parents. for a real-life adventure, a leap of faith. for answered prayers and truth-speaking friends and a first job. I've learned what feels like a lifetime of lessons here -- how to say no, truths about myself, the rewards of stepping out of my comfort zone, so much about the Lord and my journey with Him.

as coworkers ask when I'm moving, I can't bring myself to answer. and it seems that I'm not leaving as much as everyone else -- no kids to pry away from friends, and moving closer to family! clearly I should be nothing but thrilled. (and this is not to say that I don't love my family and friends in ohio -- I do, dearly!)

but they don't see that the people I leave behind have been my family here. the ones who've held me through heartbreak, through death in the family, through broken-in apartments and big life decisions. the ones who've talked me through and loved me through mistakes, spoken truth to me. prayed with me. laughed with me. cried with me. took on new adventures and challenges with me. traveled, ate fro yo, went to midnight premieres with me. walked through life with me.

because when you're in your 20's and not married, your friends are your family.

and my family has been incredible.

hindsight

tonight I got out my journal to...well...journal. duh. I was going to copy down some scripture that had jumped out at me, when the pages turned as I picked it up, and I began to read my prayers from earlier this year.

my mouth quite literally dropped open as I read words I'd written from a silent retreat several months ago. I had prayed for direction. I had prayed for a change -- something to draw me closer to Him. I actually even asked if I needed to move. 

every year on that retreat, I have found myself on the same trail. and it boggles my mind the way God uses that trail every year to teach me something new. it's like He knows I learn well in parallels and analogies, and the symbolism of a path is just too good for my mind to pass up and He knows it. it's like He created me or something. weird.

as I read through the lessons God was teaching me on the trail this past time, I realized those lessons were for now. I had asked Him where I should go. where my future was taking me. and I had been frustrated because I didn't feel like I got answers. I felt like I was screaming at Him that I needed guidance, and what I got was a still small whisper. the whisper of "trust me, I am with you".

and at the time, that seemed rather frustrating. uhm...hello God. I am an action person. I like to take action to make things better. improve them. make something go from good to great. I was looking for an action item, something to cross off my list to make my life and purpose better.

but what I got was a "trust me", and a bunch of obstacles that made the path a little difficult to traverse.

and as moving looms closer and imminent change draws near, this hits a closer to home than it did in november. as co-workers announce their moving dates, that their homes have sold, and we discuss packing up our offices and shutting off our phones, my heart aches a little. calendar notices of "last marketing lunch" and "office farewell party" make it seem a little too real. a little too close.

I know He wanted me to find that in my journal tonight for comfort. I didn't know what was coming back in november. apparently it wasn't time for me to know. but God knew. and as I kicked the ground and felt cheated for not getting my answers, I can now see His purpose so clear.

moments like this touch me so deeply, because I don't think we always get to see His plans and reasons this side of eternity. bad things happen, pain occurs, we don't get answers, and we don't always get to know why. we don't always get to see what the bigger picture is, or why we can't know now, or what a heartbreak was for. but tonight, I think God nudged me to this finding in a way to show His love and grant me peace. and it has.

 He is so good. all the time. even when my world seems shaken and uneasy and unsure, and my head is full of unknowns and doubts. He is good. 

transitions and tears

today I have been feeling particularly emotional about upcoming life transitions. and also reflective. and since writing is therapeutic for me in these times, here I am.

I've always had trouble with change. any large life transition is typically followed by tears and an aching in my heart for things to remain the same forever. graduation from high school and college were  nearly detrimental to my emotional state. and just when I thought I'd never have to go through that type of change again, here I am, almost four years later (ironically), staring it in the face.

when you know you're about to move from a place and people you love, every happy moment becomes bittersweet. the lovely memories you make start to take on a sharp sting, as if the universe is taunting you. this past month as I've laughed and talked and enjoyed the company of the people I have come to deeply know & love, I've struggled with how hard it will be on moving day to leave.

and this has made a part of me want to push away. stop making memories. wouldn't that be easier?

tonight as I cried to a friend about the difficulty of leaving, she pointed out that my pain was a good thing. I'm sorry, what? she pointed out that the fact I'm so torn up about leaving was a sign that I had spent my time here well. being sad about leaving is good. saying goodbye should be hard. otherwise, what have you been doing with your life?

connecting with people deeply is one of my favorite things about life. it reminds me most of Christ here on earth. and while it is wonderful in all of its glimpses into God's love for us, it also opens us up to heartache and makes us vulnerable. but I guess that's why it's beautiful. anything so spectacular and meaningful can't come without investment and risk, right?

goodbyes and change are hard for me because I love to connect with people. to invest and form deep and meaningful relationships. and while life circumstances are not always stable or guaranteed, I'm not going to stop just because I don't know what's going to happen in the future. I'd rather love deeply and hurt deeply than be disconnected and numb. I'm going to have to remind myself of that as I'm up to my elbows in tissues the next few months, but I'm standing by it.

Huntsville, Alabama, you are a very special place. I've called you home for four years, and you have truly been that -- my home. I could write a book about all that I've learned here, from life in the south, to being on my own, to lessons about myself. and I'm not ashamed to say that leaving you will be very, very hard.

a dose of perspective

today was kind of a lousy day. not the kind of bad day I know a lot of people have -- ones with sick family members or accidents or not having enough to eat -- but rather a 1st world, petty-ish kind of bad day.

an overwhelming sense of inadequacy at my job, coupled with a horrible day in the academic world, led to feeling like a pretty crappy person.

I often judge myself based on my performance at things, and sometimes based on others' reactions to me and the work I do, and I'm realizing this is not a good pattern. and not how God judges me (thankfully!)

as I was driving away from a super frustrating moment and feeling pretty downright disappointed in myself, I'm pretty sure God gave me a dose of perspective.

what meaning does all this have, Ashley? um...a lot. duh, God. this is my life. hellllooo!
really? the meaning of your life revolves around your job and school? will you remember this in a month? maybe!! especially if I fail a class! please. (sometimes my God voice is a little sarcastic/sassy).

when this life is over, will today matter? it won't. not the things that bothered me about it, anyway.

a man I work with had an accident this weekend. he is OK, but injured himself and is recovering at home. he sent an e-mail out telling what happened, and I'm pretty sure it was more cheery than 90% of the e-mails I send. he told us what happened, but then proceeded to tell us how it could have been worse. how grateful he was that it wasn't worse. what he learned from the experience.

this is a man who is always shining the light of Christ. so, of course, he would turn this seemingly cruddy situation into a glory for Him. what an example.

tonight at a Bible study I'm doing, this line hit me: God lets us see sparks of divine love in people.

I know this to be true by the kind of love I've been shown by friends and family. and I think seeing His love in other people's attitudes and actions (like said co-worker) is also a gift from Him.

today was not my favorite, but today isn't my life. today isn't my life's meaning. and God-willing, I have tomorrow to help be a spark of divine love.

a strong dose of nostalgia

lately I've been nostalgic. it happens quite a lot, actually, but even more so today...

this I almost got choked up thinking about video rental stores. do you remember these? of course you do, but in ten years I wonder if many people will. or maybe they will scratch their heads and give a delayed "yeahhhh!".

or maybe it will be the new way to determine how old someone is -- did you walk the halls of movie gallery and blockbuster? yes? woohoo! you win the over-30 prize. now please move on to discussing shows from your youth, including saved by the bell, full house, clarissa explains it all, fraggle rock, etc. etc.

earlier in the day I went to lunch and got into a conversation about 9/11. our first reactions, where we were, what that time in our lives was like and how we probably didn't get what all it meant in those moments. more memories came flooding back. more nostalgia.

and I felt myself drift back into my high school life. walking the halls of BHS....walking around all the aisles of movie gallery. watching the previews for new movies on the TVs as we tried to find the last copy of that new release. or trying to decide which scary movie looked the scariest. and then if we wanted skittles or mike & ikes at the counter when we checked out. and no, we didn't want insurance on our rental. and yes, we WILL rewind. promise.

these memories make me a little teary-eyed if I think on them long. because the little things end up being the things that memories really are made of -  the things that our lives are comprised of. and I am so very lucky enough to have a wonderful family and wonderful friends and such happy, happy memories.

and on top of all this nostalgia and almost an ache for the past, a conversation at dinner tonight put it all into perspective for me.

a friend of mine started talking about a child who a family at her church has kind of taken in. she was saying how the boy lately has just wanted to give up. he doesn't want to try at school or attempt to reach goals, he just wants to quit. because that is the example he's been given. that is what the men in his life do.

and it made me sad for him. and all the other children like him. and all the other people who might not find nostalgia wonderful. who might not like to look back on their childhood memories, because they're less than pleasant. because they don't involve trips to movie gallery or blockbuster.

yes, sometimes nostalgia makes my heart ache. today I wanted to be in bryan, ohio, going on a walk with my mom, eating a homemade dinner with my family, topped off by a special recipe pumpkin cookie from chief supermarket. I wanted to rent a movie with my friends and drink pop with a twizzler straw in megan's basement. I wanted to play cards and watch a disney movie so we could walk to our cars in the dark after foolishly watching "I still know what you did last summer". I wanted to go to a high school football game, go to pizza hut afterwards, and laugh until my belly hurt. and while all these things seem simple and childish, they are so absolutely amazing it's hard to put into words how much they mean to me.

and I wish everyone could have it.