A Dusty Travel Journal

You know how some dates are just seared in you memory? You can't forget them no matter what. The weeks leading up to the date are full of expectation. You know something big has happened in your history, just because of the way your brain treats the date. 

Today is one of those days for me. 

Today is the 7th anniversary of this blog.

So...big deal, you say. What's that got to do with anything? 

Seven years ago, I got on a plane by myself for the first time. I'd traveled with groups before, sure. Never by myself. Never across the ocean. But now, I can't say that any more.

As the years pass, the memories start to fade. Some things I will never forget, like stepping foot in C. S. Lewis' church, seeing his home & his grave. Sitting in the warm rooms of The Bird & The Baby on a cold and rainy night.  Seeing London from the top of St. Paul's, the city stretching out as far as I could see in all directions. Attending a show at the Globe, in the freezing cold fall weather. (Honestly, I don't remember the cold; I just know it was. I remember that night and know that it was a supremely happy memory.) Feeling the breeze from the rushing train approaching the Tube platform; feeling thankful that the train had finally arrived and praying that you might actually make it to class on time. Seeing and falling in love with Scotland in a single moment. Praying desperately to God when I felt lost in the city and watching him answer in a big way. Sunday lunches with the Diamond's and friends from St. Giles. Bible study and Christmas party with the student group at KCBC.

Seven years ago, I started this small blog to keep my family and friends up to date on my life while I was in England. It's become so much more than a simple travel blog to me. Thank you for sticking around during the months I don't write and the ones that I do, for putting up with silly posts about fall weather & coffee and literature & theologically deep ones where I try to process different thoughts in my head. 

This blogging thing continues to be an adventure for me, so thank you for sticking with me. Thank you for the encouragement to keep writing and exploring things, even if it is simple every day things. Because really, the big stuff is great and memory making. But it's the every day stuff that makes life full and rich and worth getting up for in the morning. 

So here's to more coffee dates with friends, knitting projects accomplished, and half miles run with my niece. Here's to learning what it means to be content in the life you've been given but not sit back and watch it pass you by. Here's to staying out with friends and sleeping late. 

Here's to more adventures!

Growing Up

When I was your age, I used to think “When I’m grown up I’ll know what I’ll want, I’ll be sorted.” But you never really know what you want, you never feel grown up, not really, you never sort it all out.

--Sarah Jane Smith

I ran across this quote on the Internet a few months ago and fell in love with it. It seemed to sum up all of my feelings on growing up and how I always hoped I would just *know* what I wanted to do, what I wanted in general and that I would, indeed, be sorted. It was a reminder that it is okay to not always know what you want, that it's okay if you never really sort it all out. Sarah Jane IS a grown up when she says this, so it must be okay to not feel grown up if a grown up is the one saying the words. 

I found it again a few weeks ago and instead of it being inspirational, I found it rather depressing! "You never sort it all out." How did I ever think that was an encouraging thought about growing up and adulthood things?

I have since printed this quote out and taped it to my monitor at work. I look at it almost every day and you know what? It stopped being encouraging. It stopped being depressing. It simply became a truth. Too often, I think, we place this grand emphasis on "growing up" and becoming some glorified version of every adult we ever wanted to be like. It doesn't happen like that. "You never really know what you want, you never feel grown up, not really..." You know what? I'm glad. I think we grow up with this vision that actual grown ups are boring and sad and have to pay bills all of the time. Which, in part, is true. But if that is really all that being grown up is, I don't want to be that person. And if you never really know what you want, it doesn't mean you don't try to find it.   

In the movie Anna and the King, Anna comments about her life taking her down roads that lead absolutely no where. In reference to their on-going discussion about the differences in their religions, she jokingly asks the king, "What would Buddha say of that?" The king answers with a knowing smile, "That roads are for journeys, ma'am, not destinations."

I'm a Quitter, ya'll

Guess what kids? 
I'm a Quitter.
And proud of it. 
After far too many Sunday's as a Sunday Jerk  (Jon Acuff knows what real life is like.) and realizing I was so far past unhappy at my job, I Quit. It is also accurate to say I resigned, but Quit is the word I'll use. Let me explain why. 

You all remember when I got that job? The miraculous job that came after a holiday season working retail that sucked the joy out of my holiday? Yes. That one. My blessing job. As I worked day in and day out, I knew I couldn't stay there forever. But I should at least stick out a year, right? Maybe? As the days continued, I found myself growing more and more unhappy. And then, out of not quite no where, a job that was closer to my experience, closer to my major and MOST RELEVANT TO MY INTEREST came to my attention. "I'll apply. Yes. And if I don't get it," I told myself with the utmost resolve, "I WILL keep looking, even though I hate job searching. It is possible and perfectly acceptable to look for a new job and I am choosing to do that." 
I'm not going to lie-- it was really hard for me to even consider getting a new job. My father has had the same job my whole life. And even though my mother had a few job changes (which all seemed to make sense), to me, it is unusual to switch jobs for no reason. Or for simply being unhappy about your job. And it was my miracle job too! Walking away from that felt as if I was insulting God, telling him that his provision was no longer good enough for me. 

And in a way, it wasn't. But I am quite sure He could see that as well as I could, because about a week after my interview they offered me the job! A wink from heaven.
With just a day to spare, I had to get my resignation letter together to give two weeks notice. When I went into my boss's office, my hand was shaking, my voice was shaking, and I was sure I was going to be sick. So much nervousness over something that was going to end up being good for me! But I made it through. Yes, weird and awkward, but extremely important for the rest of my life. Jon Acuff says that quitting is about chasing your dream. I still don't know what my dream is, but I know I needed to Quit to find my dream.


My boss asked me do paperwork training for a woman who will be filling in until my office could hire a new AM. I was so overwhelmed and because the job deals in tiny details, I kept tripping over the order of tasks. Apparently when you've being doing something for seven months, you just fall into a rhythm and things just make sense. 
I found myself telling her, "But I hope to have that taken care of before you start" so many times. When she left, I looked at all the work I said that I would "take care of." It is at least one weeks worth of straight up filing. Filing. There might some self injury if I have to file for a solid week! I can't even stand to think about it! 

But somewhere in the craziness of my day, a small pocket of my heart whispers, "You have one week left. You can do this. You are more than this filing. You are worth more than your job. YOU are not your job." 
And yes, it whispers. I wish it would yell and scream. But as I reheat my tea and take a sip, I can hear it. And with every fibre of my being, I agree.