a whole new world...

No, this isn't in reference to the song made famous by Aladdin and Jasmine, it is in reference to my whole new world. Since my last blog, I've moved to Atlanta and have begun my studies as a graduate student. Saying goodbye to home was hard. I told Chris goodbye 3 times. I cried really hard when my parents left...and cried, in fact, every day for 4 days (but, I warned you about that one - see my post from June 2...ha!).

At first, I was very skeptical about life in Atlanta. I grew up in Hickory (population of 41,000+) and moved to Mars Hill (population of 1,800+)...and here I am in Atlanta (population of half a million+). Half a million people?! But here's what I didn't realize...how cute the part of town would be where I'm living! It's on the outskirts of Atlanta...so it's essentially it's own little city. And reminds me a lot of Hickory. Every night, crickets lull me to sleep outside my window, and during the day, giant oak and pine trees cool our patio. It's beautiful. I've made incredible friends. My roommate is wonderful. I love my classes. God is good.

I feel it necessary to talk about the peace I've experienced. Even when my parents left, I was sad (obviously), but I knew that this is where I'm supposed to be. I know this is where I'm supposed to be. God has shown me so many fabulous things since I've moved down here. I've found a church family who loves me. I've found friends who are like me. I have interest in every one of my classes. I have peace. And I thank God for that. And I can't wait to see what else God has in store.

Denominational Dichotomy

The title of this blog post sounds very negative and it is not at all intended to be. For the last year or so I've been struggling with this one topic I'm about to discuss and it has really come into light the past few days. Let me provide some exposition:

For those of you who may not know, I was raised Baptist. As far as "baptist-dom" goes, the church in which I was raised is pretty liberal. You know, supporting women in ministry, encouraging individual interpretation of the bible, etc. A great experience, overall...for the first 17 years of my life. Well, while in college, I was a scholarship recipient to sing in the choir in a Methodist church. I loved this church, I still do. The monthly check became more of a bonus than a payment for work.

Now, Baptists and Methodists have different ideology , obviously (i.e. baptism, confirmation, hierarchy in the church). I think it is also safe to say that Methodists are renown for their welcoming, accepting attitude toward everyone. After all, their slogan is: "Open Hearts. Open Minds. Open Doors." This is not to say that Baptists have closed hearts, closed minds, and closed doors (although, sadly, some of them do)...but they are not as excited about exclaiming it. The slogan of the Baptist church in which I was raised is, "Sunday...it's just the beginning." Clever. But doesn't exactly scream, "Come on in, we love the gays!"

Now, let me get on with the dichotomous nature to which the title speaks. The following 3 statements are each contributing to my confusion in their own way:

1. "In my personal theology, the only people who won't be in heaven are the ones who don't want to be." - Pastor Susan Pilsbury-Taylor (Minister at Biltmore United Methodist Church)

2. "Jesus said, 'I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but by me' (John 14:6). He didn't say that it was by believing or doing anything in particular that you could 'come to the Father.' He said that it was only by him--by living, participating in, being caught up by, the way of life that he embodied, that was his way. Thus is it possible to be on Christ's way and with his mark upon you without ever having heard of Christ, and for that reason to be on your way to God though maybe you don't even believe in God. A Christian is one who is on the way, though not necessarily far along it, and who has at least some dim and half-baked idea of whom to thank." - Frederick Buechner (Theologian)

3. "Jesus said to him, 'I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.' " - John 14:6 (NRSV)

And there is the conundrum. Who is right? And, really...why does someone have to be right? Do I believe what my Methodist minister stated (which I had already wrestled with before the words came out of her mouth)? Because, when it comes down to it, I believe that God created everyone and loves everyone...so how does he prevent people from entering eternal bliss? Unless, like Suze says, they just don't want to. I just have a hard time believing God denies perfectly ethical, faithful Jews (and to be honest, Muslims, Buddhists, etc....God made them too, ya know) access to Heaven.

Does anyone have answers? Probably not. But if you do, please feel free to let me know. Thanks!

greater things have yet to come, greater things are still to be done in John's Island...

Yes, I realize it's been a month. Yes, I realize the past few haven't been too exciting. And yes, I did it on purpose. Kind of. Okay, actually not at all. But this one promises to be a good update.

Yesterday at this time, I would have been sitting around a small classroom talking, laughing, and spending quality time with 21 ladies, 21 air mattresses, and 21 suitcases packed with a weeks worth of construction and worship clothes. Maybe we would have all been napping, but either way, it would have been quality time. And that was just one room...

We took 151 people to John's Island, SC for our mission trip this past week. We were not supposed to go there. We were supposed to go to Chicago. I remember the day I learned the news. I got a facebook message from Chris and all it said was, "We lost Chicago". My heart sank a little. I was extremely excited about going to Chicago. I accepted it because, as hard as it is for me to admit sometimes, God is in control. John's Island, SC. Where the heck is John's Island, SC?! What is there to do down there?! These are just some of the thoughts that went through my mind. The answers: near Charleston; and...plenty.

The following stories are stories that either I heard from my fellow workers or experienced myself.

Story 1: Mary Brown, double amputee.

Ms. Brown had been on the waiting list for 18 years to have her house, trailer actually, worked on. For 18 years, she had wheeled around her trailer with doorways that were too small for her wheelchair. To use the bathroom, she had to throw herself onto the ground, crawl into the bathroom, and pull herself up to the toilet. This past week, a crew of about 10 people widened her doorway. One afternoon, a group gathered around to witness her roll her wheelchair through the door of the bathroom in her trailer for the first time in 18 years.

Story 2: Robert, 3rd grader.

Robert is a little boy who I did not have very much contact with. He is a 3rd grader who attended the Vacation Bible School. Rebekah was lucky enough to work with him and be his experience with Jesus. One day, I walked into the sanctuary of the church, just passing through, and he was sitting in there talking to her, crying. I asked her if everything was okay, and she said, "He just needs someone to talk to." Robert gets called stupid. Robert does not have any friends. Robert does not go to church. Robert had a prayer request on the last day of VBS, "I want to thank God for Rebekah", he said. Thank God for Rebekah, indeed. God put her there for a reason. Robert saw God in her last week.

St0ry 3: Robert, 7-year-old.

This (different) Robert became my mission for the week. Robert is a precious, precious creation of God who is autistic. The theme of the week for VBS was Camp E.D.G.E. (Experience and Discover God Everywhere) and the mascot was Sparx, a lively fox puppet (puppeteered brilliantly by Hannah). Robert, who had little desire to talk to or be around anyone, loved Sparx. He called him Mr. Fox. Wednesday was a bad day for Robert. He refused to talk to anyone, even Mr. Fox. On Thursday, Robert was a new person. You see, throughout the week, Robert made every single one of his crafts and gave them to Mr. Fox. The only thing he wanted to do on Thursday was give Mr. Fox the necklace I helped Robert put together. Hannah, ever so patiently, agreed to be Mr. Fox one last time for Robert. The look on Robert's face when I told him Mr. Fox was going to wake up from his nap to talk to Robert was as clear an image of God as I have seen in a long time. All Robert wanted to do was give Mr. Fox that necklace. Once this took place, Robert said "Goodnight, Mr. Fox!" And that was it. Robert has a heart of gold that the rest of the world finds hard to understand. But Mr. Fox got it. And Robert did too. That, dear friends, is the face of God.

According to our standards, we were not supposed to go to John's Island, but God knew. God knew, we just couldn't see God's plan until it unfolded. God had a greater plan for us and God has a greater plan for those in John's Island. My heart aches for those who still suffer but it rejoices for those we helped.

God, bless those whose homes and hearts we changed. Bless those children and provide a way for the seeds we planted to be watered and nourished daily. Thank you, God, for this opportunity and for the better plan you had for us.

"I'll follow you into the homes that are broken.

I'll follow you into the world.

Meet the needs for the poor and the needy, God.

I'll follow you into the world."

It's not about me...

So, this past week, I was with my middle schoolers from the youth group down at Garden City Beach Camp in Garden City, SC. It was a phenomenal week. We had 4 of our kids accept Christ for the first time and others to make decisions to make their relationship with God better. I love beach camp.

I'm not very much myself when I'm at beach camp. But it's a good thing. Let me explain to you what it's like...because many of you probably wouldn't believe me when I say I love it. Our bedrooms are rooms with 10 sets of bunk beds (20 beds total). Many of my male friends probably would not fit in them. The bathrooms have 3 showers, 3 toilets, and 3 sinks. This sounds like a lot, but when you have 20 girls in one room all trying to get ready for worship at the same time, it seems like half as many as you need. Every morning, we get up, and have breakfast and go to worship. For me, a shower is not in my morning agenda (very out of character) because I have just taken one the night before for worship. During the afternoons, we have free time. I hate sand, but I spend pretty much every afternoon at the beach. Free time is from 1-5 and I'm usually at the beach from 1-4. In the other hour, I hang out with the other kids back at the house and getting ready for dinner.

After morning worship, the kids go to their classes and, this past week, Trevor, Lyndsay, and I all taught a class on how to handle conflict. I've taught a class every year for the past 4 years, and this year, one of the classes was, without a doubt, the best class I've ever had. The content was great, but what made it so wonderful was the kids. They were very willing to participate and share stories. They admitted to having had issues with conflict in the past and we worked on things and talked stuff out together. On the first day, we decided that the overarching theme of the week was "it's not about me...". When involved in conflicts, if we can just remember "it's not about me", we will probably end up happier.

I think what I learn most every week is that the key to living a satisfying life is simplicity. When I'm there, I don't have a computer, I don't have a television, I have my phone but barely use it...and I'm happy. So if I try to add the selflessness notion mentioned above, maybe things will be even better. As much as I hate to admit it, it's so much easier to live like this while I'm down there. It's because I'm forced (as bad as it sounds) to read my bible, spend time with God, and pray. I'm trying to keep it a habit. We leave tomorrow for round 2 with the high schoolers. I'm excited to see God again...and hoping to see God when I get back too...

Feels like Home to me...

Wow. I've taken entirely too long to update my blog. For those 3 avid followers I have, I sincerely apologize. For everyone else, get over it. ha! Only kidding...

So, you may have noticed that the tone of this posts title is much more uplifting than that of my last one. It may be partially because nothing really feels like home and that song is just in my head, or it could also be that I am settling down into a routine even with half my life still boxed up in the corner. Since my last post, I have found a place to live in Atlanta. That weekend was filled with many emotions. I was mainly incredibly overwhelmed...I am incredibly overwhelmed. The fact that I will be paying for my own place really freaks me out. As much as I hate to admit it, I will miss my parents so badly being 4 hours away from them, that I will probably cry...and cry and cry and cry.

But, in all of it, I keep reminding myself, God has a reason. There is a reason that 2 years ago I went on a mission trip to Buffalo, NY when I had no desire. There is a reason that God spoke to me that week and told me to follow. There is a reason that I received an incredible scholarship and have met incredible people at this McAfee place. There is a reason. Yet, still, I'm a doubting Thomas. One day, it will all be made clear...and until then, there is a reason.

"He makes all things good

there’s a time to live and a time to die
a time for wonder and to wonder why
cause

there is a reason."

So 2 days ago, I started my internship. I love this internship. Most of the time. Sometimes Chris (the youth minister, my boss) can be an absolute tool. I mean, to the point that I want to punch him and cry. Sometimes he pisses me off so much because he knows exactly when to call my bluffs. But then there are times...times that I'm reminded that there's a reason.

I found an email from him a few days ago that reminded me of this story. My senior year in high school, Chris asked me to preach for youth sunday. Looking back, I should have been way more honored than I was. I wrote this sermon after many weeks of deliberating on a topic and I emailed it to him. The next day I got that email from him and in it, he enumerated his praise and told me that it would have rivaled the sermons written by graduate students in his preaching class. I'm not trying at all to toot my own horn, but what he said to me made me feel so good because he was proud of me. At the heart of it was pride. I'm not sure that there are many people (outside my family) that have been as proud of me and make me feel so good about myself as Chris does. For example, Chris drove from Hickory to Mars Hill to see me walk across the stage to receive my diploma. He found me afterward and gave me a huge hug, told me how proud of me he was, and left. He drove, round trip 3 hours, to see probably 3 minutes of "me time". Maybe that's just being a good youth minister, but to me, that's a great friend. I'll never forget the day that he helped me move into my dorm my freshman year in college, he was leaving and I was going down with him to say goodbye and on the elevator I started tearing up and he looked at me and said, "There's no crying in baseball." I still cried, but just the fact that he was there for me that day meant so much to me. Chris is, without a doubt, one of the best mentors, leaders, and friends I have ever had. So, yeah, now that this internship has started, things are starting to feel more like home. So, if you read this Chris, just know that I appreciate everything you do...for me, and for everyone. Thanks for reminding me, more times than many people would believe, that there is a reason....

"I'm a wanderer I have no place or time..."

So here I am, a college graduate. Nothing feels different. It's like when you have a birthday and people say to you, "do you feel different now that you're 13?...16?...21?" and, even though each of these represent a milestone in its own right, the truth is, I never felt any different. I feel the same now. I felt the same on Saturday, graduation day, as I did the day I walked into my first dorm room when I was a mere 17 years old.

The only thing I feel now is frustration. As my entire life sits boxed up in a corner of our dining room, the only thing I feel now is frustration. This place, this house where I grew up, where I split my head open on the chair railing when I was 6, this place is supposed to be home. And, don't tell my mother, but this just isn't home anymore. Maybe it has to do with the fact that my bedroom has now been turned into the guest bedroom, or the fact that renovations have been done while I've been in school. But either way, I feel so "in between", so nomadic.

Now, I know I should be grateful for all the opportunities. There are many people who don't have the chance to go and be and find new homes; and some have the chance, but not on their own accord. I should be excited that my life is packed up in boxes waiting to go on to my next adventure, and I'm sure my aggravation will subside, but for now it's so frustrating! It is like my life is literally looming over me, staring at me, beckoning me to do something...and I just want to yell back, "I can't do anything! You, my life, are all packed up with no where to go!" I want to go straight to Atlanta. But I know that if I do that, I will be skipping an important part of my life. This summer has a reason and has a purpose, and, no matter how frustrating it is, I have to live it. I need to be happy for it and look forward to it. And for now, the best I can do is try...

here we are and there we go...

I graduate from college in 6 days. 6 days. That's it. In 6 days, I embark on a new journey. I am scared and excited and sad and overwhelmed. I know that this is how it is supposed to be. This is the plan that God has for my life, but I've become so comfortable where I am. I was meant to spend 4 years here, and I have done that. My life must continue. Mars Hill has become my home.

I've always considered home to be the place where you have most of your memories, most of your friends, and the place where you leave most of your heart, and, for right now, that place is Mars Hill. There is something about the way the entire campus turns bright orange and red in October, and the way it turns into a cornucopia of color in March...but, most of all, there's something about the way a professor from a freshman year gen. ed. course still remembers your name when you see him in the cafeteria. That, my friends, is home.

Home, to me, is a place where one can grow and struggle and cry and laugh and change. Most of all of those, I have changed. I never like embracing change, in fact, I tend to be quite opposed to it, but the changes that have taken place in me have made me a better person. I love not because I am supposed to, but because I need to. I care not because someone in Sunday School told me to, but because I want to. I give not because it's "the right thing to do" but because my time and money cannot be better spent otherwise. That, my friends, is home.

The love that I have experienced on this campus has taught me how to love. My brilliant roommate wrote an incredible facebook note all about love. About seeing God in people's character, not in the celestial greatness above us. I like to think of God as being synonymous with upper-case "L" love. God is Love. I have learned to see Love in the eyes of a homeless man when I give him my carry-out that I probably wasn't going to eat anyway...I have learned to see Love in the eyes of the drug addicted men and women attending church and finding peace outside of dependency. So much of this newly acquired vision is because of Mars Hill. That, my friends, is home.

It is hard to say, but we are merely nomads in this life. In 6 days I'll move on to a new home. Somewhere else where I can learn and grow and change into someone even better, even greater. But, I can guarantee, that none of that could happen without the foundation that Mars Hill has created. To all my friends, professors, and colleagues, thank you. You, my friends, are home.