The facts were these...

Oooff. 

Did January the last few months absolutely drain anyone else? I have been working on this post since mid to late February. Clearly, I did a great job with it.

This semester started off kinda rough. Lots of students forgot lots of things. Like how to use a library. It was a bit of an adventure helping students back on the straight and narrow, but I think we got there eventually. Semester ended last week, so things are starting to calm down a little bit. A handful of "my kids" graduated last weekend, including a two of my student workers. It was such a great moment for me to see them walk across that stage after four (or five) years of hard work. 

Life slowly returns to normal, whatever that is anymore. 

The end of January brought some emotional upheaval for me. Things are getting better every day, but man. It has been hard. (And yes, this one is still true almost four months later. Healing is a process.)

So, of course, I started reading the book of Job. 

I had a dear friend joke about how "uplifting" the book is and, lovingly, poke fun at my choice. I was afraid she was going to be right, but still, I pressed on. It was next, chronologically, in my reading plan anyway. Might as well just carry on.  

I think we all probably know the story of Job. Dude with seemingly the worst luck in the universe loses his family, his house, his possessions--eventually even his health-- all in the course of a single day. He and his friends sit around for like, 30 plus chapters, talking about all the terrible things that had happened, how God would only punish a sinner, not a righteous man like Job. Not the friends I would want with me during a terrible time in my life. Finally, and miraculously, God steps in and has a dialog with Job. Because of a lot of things, (Job's righteousness and love and devotion to God being part of it), God restores Job's fortune to him, double what he had at the beginning of the story.  

To be honest, I don't think I've ever read this book in its entirety. Sure, you grab the beginning and the end. That's where the meat of the story is if you are going to teach it in a classroom. But the stuff in between? Honestly, y'all, it blew my mind.

I hope to share some of that with you in the months to come. I've since worked my way through Exodus and Leviticus, and Habakkuk. It has been slow going, but in all of it, I still see God providing for his people, in all things. And through the semester and personal ups and downs of life, that has been an altogether encouraging thing to read. 

What does it mean to be brave?

I've been reading Annie Downs' book "Let's All Be Brave" these days. It is taking me a while to get through it (I've been at it since March), because at the end of each chapter I have to wipe away my tears and work on believing the truth Annie lays down. It's exhausting, but I love it. 

I've talked to a lot of people recently about being brave, people who have a lot more experience at being brave than I do. I wanted to hear that things got easier. That as they learned to trust God more, it didn't seem so scary or hard. But everyone I talked to, without exception, told me that it is always hard and even trusting God doesn't stop it from being a leap of faith. If it were easy, making the step wouldn't be brave; it would be the easy next step. 

There's a lot of talk in the media these days about what it means to be a brave. Sometimes, they call it "being a hero." We attribute things like courage and strength to this title; usually, there is so much more that goes in to making a hero. 

I was talking to my dad the other day about life and things, and of course, the shooting in Oregon came up in our conversation. We took turns talking, willing to admit when the conversation was out of our depths. In the face of such tragedy, sometimes the only thing we can agree on is that it was horrible and how much the families who lost loved ones must be hurting. 

Some reports of the shooting say that the gunman was targeting Christians. It's hard when Christians overseas are meeting their death out of love for Christ; it is a completely different experience when it is happening in my country, a land that sings the song of religious freedom for all. 

It's been almost a month since the shooting, but I still think about it. I work at a university. We've had police on campus after a bomb threat (that turned out to be a false alarm, thank God) so the thought of a school shooting tends to be on my mind more than it was before. More than I want it to be. I think about what I would do in an active shooter situation. It scares me to have to think that way, but I know I would have to be brave for my students even if I wanted to curl in a ball under my desk and not engage. 

One thing that my dad said in our conversation has been on a loop in my brain for the last month. 
"You know the bravest person in all of this? The second person who was shot. They knew what was coming when they answered how they believed. And they said it anyway. That's bravery." 

Being brave is hard. It never stops being hard. Making brave choices can change your life. 

This is another day, O Lord. 

I know not what it will bring forth, 

But make me ready, Lord, for whatever it may be.

If I am to stand up, help me to stand bravely.

If I am to sit still, help me to sit quietly.

If I am to lie low, help me to do it patiently.

And if I am to do nothing, let me do it gallantly.

Make these words more than words, 

and give me the Spirit of Jesus. 

Amen.

Book of Common Prayer

Not My Lesson to Learn

The other week was good. It was full of family and catching up and coffee. Always coffee. (I started drinking Cafe Bustello coffee about maybe two weeks ago and I absolutely LOVE it! I even got my picky papa to try it. Anyone else??)

I got to hold my nephew (who, when he starts stretching in his swaddle blanket right before he really starts crying, looks like a turtle). I got to go on a walk with my niece (who has the biggest heart I've ever seen on an almost three year old and a memory that is slightly better than mine). I got to hang out with my sister and her husband, who thankfully got/had the day off. I love when that happens. And then of course, my baby sister and her husband were there. At one point, we were all basically around the same table and I just looked out at my crazy family and thought, "You know, even with our flaws and struggles, I'm so glad these people are my people."

And because life happens, there was some not so great stuff mixed in there, too. We had some of the hottest days of the summer that week. Not such a terrible thing if you are indoors with the air conditioner on high...except we didn't have an air conditioner. And mowing grass in that heat? Forget about it! It took me twice as long to finish because I was always stopping for water and sunscreen.

But while I was baking under the sun and dying for a breeze, I was thinking about the things that go wrong in our lives. Very "up" thoughts to be having on a beautiful sunny day, right? I thought about how we learn through life that whatever happens is a consequence of our actions, for good or bad. I mean look at Newton's third law of motion; he sees it too. I think I spent most of my life thinking that some good things that happened to me were miracles and I could only attribute them to God working in my life. Some other good things (good grades, as one example) happened because of the work I put into them. And of course, bad things were because I messed something up or was being punished for something.

I think I've been accident prone all my life, but the last few weeks I've had a few more accidents than I care to admit. Some of them were my fault, some of them were not. My gut reaction to the things that weren't my fault? WHY GOD?! I mean really, what did I do to deserve this?!?

Um..? Maybe nothing? Life happens.

In the "why me?" scenario, everything that happens is about me. I am the center of that universe. But guess what? We interact with so many people throughout the day, and I forget that maybe some of the things that happen to me are part of other people's lives and lessons to learn. We might not understand the reason behind them, but like Aslan says in The Horse and His Boy, "Child, I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own."

Maybe, sometimes, the things that happen to us are just things.

It might not be something we need to work through in order to learn something about ourselves or to see where we are lacking. Maybe it isn't because we were rude to the cashier 6 weeks ago (but you know, please be nice to your cashiers. They have long days on their feet and really underneath it all, they are people too.) or we forgot to have quiet time with Jesus today.

I think how we deal with whatever happens, of course, is important. It says a lot about the times the lesson was for us and what we've learned from those times. And sometimes, maybe the experience isn't ever for us. Maybe it is for someone in the future who comes to us distraught because they don't know what to do. We can share our experiences and the lessons we've learned. And isn't that what community is all about?

Trust & Obey...but only if I have to...

Twice a year for twelve years, I sang the first and last verse of Trust and Obey. It was my small Christian school's theme song and it signaled the beginning and end of every school year. To this day, I can still sing those two verses with my eyes closed, the words seared into my memory. I am using the Merriam-Webster definition of the word seared here: to burn, scorch, mark, or injure with or as if with sudden application of intense heat.
In case you are still confused, I do not like this song. These aren't glowing terms I am using to describe the song or the memory of singing it with my classmates. While the song and the memory of it represents many years of my life,(and some of those years admittedly were good years) as a whole they aren't joyous years; they are years and years of frustration and a little bitterness.

Even now, seven years after graduating, singing this song in church produces a negative attitude in my soul. (Which says more about my heart than the song, I know.)
Well, I mean, it did. Until the other week. When we sang, not just the first and last verse, but the verses in between. 
See, the first verse talks about joyously following Jesus and how he will only walk with us when we, say it with me, trust and obey:

When we walk with the Lord

in the light of his word,

what a glory he sheds on our way!

While we do his good will, 

he abides with us still,

and with all who will trust and obey.

 

The fourth verse talks about the sweet fellowship we will have with Jesus when we are able to bodily be in the presence of God and the willing obedience we display, without fear:

Then in fellowship sweet

we will sit at his feet,

or we'll walk by his side in the way;

what he says we will do,

where he says we will go,

never fear, only trust and obey.

 

For me in that school, this song felt like a holy battering ram, forcing me to do what the school wanted, in Jesus' name. I was to obey them without question, because Jesus said you were suppose to obey those he placed in authority over you. And if I did all that they asked, followed their many rules without fear or questions, Jesus would love me and let me walk with him! 
Two weeks ago we sang this song at church. At first, I wanted to dig my heels in, stand there, hymn book closed and arms crossed. Fool me once, shame on me. But, for whatever reason, I opened the book and sang along, thinking I knew the whole song by heart. I was surprised when I had to look at verses two and three, because they did not fit with the image of the song I carried with me for many years. 

Not a burden we bear,

not a sorrow we share,

but our toil he doth richly repay;

not a grief or a loss,

not a frown or a cross,

but is blest if we trust and obey.

But we never can prove

the delights of his love

until all on the altar we lay

for the favor he shows,

for the joy he bestows

are for them who will trust and obey.

 I don't know about you, but these two verses change the tone of this song for me. It does not hold to the happy clappy spirit of the first and last verse. There are trials and toils, ah but he is there! (I imagine to 'richly repay' something, you need to know what the issue is.) And the trusting and obeying, it gets rewarded. Even if it doesn't get rewarded right away. We are blessed when we trust and obey through the hard times. (Hard times? If you just sing the first and last verse there are no hard times!) That verse three? What a doozey! It is talking about full submission in every area of our life. To fully know and understand God and what He is about, total submission to Him is required. Do you see the result of submission? Favor and joy. 
And before anyone says it, I realize this isn't Scripture. It isn't something to live and die for. But music...music has that ability to speak to our souls when regular words fall short.

I'm not saying that I now, all of a sudden, love this song. I won't choose it at the next hymn sing. My apologies to the worship leaders at my church.But reading and singing these two verses, I don't know. It changed something in my heart. Trusting and obeying isn't something that will instantly make things go well for me or get me good grades.It won't make my life eternally blissful, but it will contribute to the bliss of my eternal life. And through the hard times, understanding who God is and relying on him is what will make all the difference at the end of the day.  

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."

A Perfect Day

I don't think I call days "perfect" very often, but if I was pressed to pick a word for yesterday, "perfect" is the word I would pick. 

It wasn't perfect because I was finally at church on time. Come on, guys. Some things never change. 
And it wasn't because work was great (which doesn't mean that it wasn't) or because my car didn't flash me the 'check engine' light (because it did). 

It was perfect in that way you notice when you step back and say, "I felt loved. I felt cared for. I felt challenged, in all the good ways." 

I got so see one of my "families" yesterday. We talked about life, reminisced about when I first met them (they had 2 children then; now they have 4), and made tentative plans to get together.  This is one family that has the uncanny ability to look at me, love me and no matter what is going on with them or me, sit down and say, "So how are things?" and I know I'm expected to answer truthfully. Not just for their benefit, but for mine as well. And with the complete understanding that they actually care. It's not just a conversation piece. It's the truth.  

I got to see my little boy who I haven't seen for months. Since like Christmas. Well, it feels like that long anyway. I got to hug and snuggle, tickle and kiss him and just be with him. He's 2 and of course, too cool for most things. I'm so thankful he isn't too cool to be snuggled and kissed by this girl. Of all the people I miss, and I miss a lot on my new schedule, he is the one I think I miss the most. I've been with him, watching him, taking care of him, playing with him since he was born. I spent almost the first year of his life with him, a few times a week. And then some. And I really really miss seeing him grow up. 

And work was work. It's spring break for the kids so the campus is pretty quiet. The library is less busy than normal, but we still see a lot of traffic. Graduate classes are still in session so students still need a place to study. It was a nice quiet day, though. 

I had all these grand plans for last night after work. Cook. Clean. Attempt to get my life in some kind of order after the weekend. Not much of that happened. I put a few books away. (Which will continue to be the story of my life for months. I still have about 5 boxes of books that need to find homes...) I rewatched some of The Lizzie Bennet Diaries. I sat down and finished a movie. I ate some chocolate. I just had a nice night. And even though I'm still a little exhausted today, it's a good exhausted. 


And even though I'm getting a bit of a late start to the day, I'm a little excited about today. No special reason. But it's like those brilliant Relient K guys said: It's funny how you find you enjoy your life when you're happy to be alive. 

Today is one of those days. 

Thoughts about my job tonight

My last post high-lighted some of the more amusing anecdotes from my new job working in the library. There are so many more than the two I shared, and sometimes one right after the other. 
I hesitate to share my frustrating experiences for many reasons. They are numerous too. Problems that staff are not made aware of until well after the fact. Papers that are printed, and left to die on the printer. Empty plates & cups from the dinning commons left on desks, their previous users long gone. 
Seriously, these are just a select few of the issues I could tell you about. But I'm not going to tell you any more. 
Why? 
Because there are also awesome things about the students here and about the time I get to spend with them. 
I love learning my student's names and what they are studying for/why they are in the library. I love listening to them talk about their classes, even if the classes are hard and their professors are less than helpful. I love asking, "Did you get all your homework done?" when they return a keyboard for one of the study rooms. I love hearing, "Yes", "Most of it" and "Well, for tonight, yes." I love telling them, "Please make sure you get some sleep tonight!" even though I know they won't. 
And when they need a break, I love asking them about the TV shows they are watching (The Bachelor, Downton Abbey) and the movies  they are checking out for the night. 

And at the end of the day when I really just want to go home, I know that they need the library to have a quiet place to do their work. And that because the evening staff is there, they are able to have that space. And honestly that is what keeps me coming back.  Okay, also, the paycheck factors into that as well. But mostly, it is for the students. 

All in a day's work

I forgot how fun and how funny it can be working in a library. Some of my favorite moments are the most face-palm-worthy questions from students. And when I say favorite, I of course mean my favorite stories to share with others. I like watching their faces go slack as they realize the craziness of the question and ask themselves, "Can someone really not know the answer to that question?!" 

The other day I had just such an encounter, of the funny variety that is. A student brought two books to the circulation desk. It was like pulling teeth to figure out what he intended to do with the books: returning, checking out, renewing? When we finally landed on "checking out" I got his ID and scanned it and the books he wanted to check out. 
"Your books are due back on March 8th," I told him. It wasn't just him--I tell everyone the due date. 
He gives me a blank look and asks, "Uh, can I bring them back before then?"
I hope my face didn't look too confused. I replied, "Oh. Of course you can." 


It was almost as good as that time in Gettysburg when a student came up to the reference desk and said, "This is a really dumb question but,..."
Ever the encourager, I interrupted with, "There is no such thing! What can I help you with?"
"Can I check books out of the library?"
I don't remember what my face did, but I really hope it was kind and not mocking when I answered, "Yes. Yes you can."

As amusing as these situations are, they are few and far between. A typical question is, "Can you help me find this book?" or "Can I get some staples for the stapler?" or the increasingly common one, "Can you come look at the printer? I think it is broken."
And course, my favorite moments aren't just ones that I can turn into amusing anecdotes later. There was one last night: a group of 6 athletes came into the library to study musical theatre history. Granted, they were a bit boisterous and a teensy bit loud, but I mean come on. Hearing deep voices talk about and listening to musical clips? Hilarious! And adorable! 

I know I haven't been posting a lot here...but I have been super busy at my book blog over the last few months! So if you want, go on over and check it out. I'm attempting to play catch up with my reviews. So far, it is the only drawback I have found to reading so many books so quickly! 

Back to school

My weeks have been getting into a bit of a routine, like I mentioned last post. Work work work at my day job, then trucking off to Old Navy on the weekends. It's back to school sales ALL MONTH and it has been slammed. Like all of the time. Friday until 10pm? Yeah, try later than that. And lines for hours and hours long. Seriously. I spent most of last Saturday ringing register. And we have been having so great sales (*cough$19jeanscough*) (but just until tomorrow! Sorry I didn't get this out sooner!) so I really should be expecting the business. 
A lot of schools are requiring uniforms, so it's not just jeans and T's for back to school, but a lot of khakis, polos and skirts. As a ex-uniform (mostly hand me downs and Goodwill--not bad!) wear-er myself, I'm a little jealous that kids can now have uniforms from Old Navy! I would have loved to be able to say that about my uniforms! Anyway...
As a cashier, I am in a very interesting position. I need to affirm the purchases being made and be helpful and kind to the people about to purchase clothing from my store. I check to make sure other associates have been doing their job of being helpful and kind as well. I have a script in my head that goes something like this: Hi! How are you today? Did you find everything ok? Or did you find what you were looking for?" If they didn't, I follow up with a, "Can I help you find (xyz)?" A lot of times at this point, another associate has already offered on the floor assistance, which is right and good. 
But I cannot tell you how many times a mother has made the following comments about her child: 

I just wish her butt was a little bit bigger! 
She is so tiny she doesn't fit into anything! 
I wish she wasn't so tall! 
I wish she was just a little bit taller! 

It is moments like these when I have to check myself and guard what comes out of my mouth. Sometimes I want to tell them, "You know your daughter might be small, but she is standing right there and can hear you wish different things for her, things she cannot change."
 Sometimes I want to say, "Hey, can we grab coffee sometime? I'd love to talk to you about the way your off-hand comments now will affect your little girl when she grows up in 5 to 10 years time." 
But mostly I end up saying something like, "Ah yes it can be difficult to find things that fit properly, but that is one of the things that makes her a unique person!" 

But even through that guarded response, it breaks my heart to hear parents speak in "if only's" for their child. I look at the child and I see a bright young thing with a huge future ahead of them. And then I imagine those hurtful words sinking into their brain, affecting the way they view their body, their worth and their future. 

Is it just me? Am I way off here? 
For those of you with children, how do you talk to your young kids about their bodies?