A second blog for you to follow.

Interested in following my house projects?  Visit my new blog HERE.  I've been having so much fun working on my projects that I've decided to share them on my blog.  Jump on over and check it out!

P.S. I'll still be posting my own personal life reflections here.  It just made more sense to have two different blogs (for different purposes).  Plus, I'd been itching to play with Wordpress for a while now.

Art-sy

My roommate's brother came to visit a couple months ago.  I admittedly didn't have a whole lot of contact with them, but in one sparing conversation he told me that he liked my house, and that it "had an artistic feel to it".

Honestly, his comment blew me away.

I had never looked at my house as "artistic".  In fact, I was still living under the phrase, "I'm not artistic, I can't even draw stick figures well".  I truly had given up on "being artistic".  I didn't draw, or paint, or sculpt.  I wasn't an artist--I was left-brained.  I repeated it so often that it became my reality.

Hearing that comment made me open my eyes.  And then I read this post by Steven Furtick about how no one is really "original".  I was dumbfounded.  I've done a LOT of projects in the last year--many of them reproductions (with tweaks) from others.  I had undervalued my own artistry.  Crazy.

Me?  An artist?  It's still so weird.  But I've at least come to terms with the fact that an "artist" isn't bound by certain mediums or productions.  Everyone is an artist.  Even me.

Restraint

I learn random facts about myself all the time.

This is what I'm learning right now.  I'm not good at keeping things to myself. I have an incessant desire to share almost everything.  It's absurd.  And with technology at my fingertips, I usually do end up sharing.

Disclaimer: If it's important not to share and it's another person's news, then I can usually make it, but it's HARD.

I'm being taught restraint.  And it's really difficult.

I want to tell people, but I know I shouldn't.  So I try to think of why it would be "okay" just this once.  And then I just clamp my mouth with wood clamps close my mouth and let the moment pass.  It always does.  And I'm just the same as I was before.

I'm learning restraint.  But I'm also learning that I share things for a reaction.  It's causing me to reevaluate the things I feel drawn to tell people.  Sharing ideas, thoughts, feelings, and memories with people isn't wrong, but some of my motivations are.

I'm also learning how conversations, while great for processing certain things, stretch ideas or concepts or feelings.  Just like throwing pizza dough.  Each conversation moves things forward or backward.  But always moving.

I don't think this one is supposed to move.  At least not now.

Flexible

I met with an amazing group of girls last Thursday night.  No agenda.  Just dinner and random conversations.  It was an evening rich with laughter and honesty.  One of those beautiful side effects of community.  I think I finally found it.

Part of the evening revolved around the meaning behind names.  How they are given and how sometimes we need to "grow" into them.  Each first and middle name was looked up and shared with the group.  These are always the moments where I feel a little disappointed that my name wasn't something cooler--or that it didn't describe me well enough.  Okay, okay, the meaning wasn't terrible.  My first name was something like lovely person--boring enough that I can't really remember it.  What really felt like the oddball to me was my middle name, which translated into: flexible.  Practically the opposite of how I feel and act 90% of the time.  I laughed it off and put it out of my mind.  Until another friend called me out and told me that I'm in a great place to practice adaptability, aka: flexibility.  Oh the signs God uses to get my attention. 

I've tried looking up my middle name again online, perhaps for an overwhelming "ah-ha!" moment from God.  But it must have been an error.  Or was it?

I'm being called to be flexible.  Regardless of what my middle name translates into.  More stepping outside my comfort zone, more leaping into the unknown, and more actions that feel risky. 

I'm being called to bigger things.  More than I'm able to do when I'm hunkered down in my "comfort zone".  Big risks, big rewards, more kingdom glory.  A lot more flexibility.

Acceptance

Today feels strange.

An important date in a failed and unrecoverable friendship.

And a flashback to a year ago.  To an unattainable place of want.

So it looks like today is a lesson in acceptance.

Souce

Acceptance that the past is the past.
Acceptance that I'm healthier now than I was last year, or three years ago
Acceptance that all things happen for a reason

And acceptance that the future holds mysteries I can't fathom--trying to imagine them right now will probably just lead to disappointment.  To accept the mystery, and to let go of "wishing for what was" instead of "appreciating what is".

Control

I wish I could say that each day is sunshine and cupcakes.  Coated with a healthy layer of glitter and unicorns.  Not so.

Source

Life doesn't feel, metaphorically speaking, like a desert, or a season of winter, or anything like that.  Life just feels..... hard.  It's safe to say that 99% of my mornings (that aren't weekends) are greeted with the "I absolutely, positively do NOT want to get up today".  But I do.  Mostly because I have to.

It's a season of not feeling valued or heard and constantly feel inadequate.  I struggle to be in that place.  I struggle to stay quiet and let the lessons of patience and humbleness roll over me.  I constantly feel constrained by my age and my gender when I choose to speak up.  I wonder, frequently, if I'm any good at my job--even though I've been here for two years now.  I'm so far away from "I love what I do" that I'm now in a "I know I'm supposed to be here right now, but I hate it" place.  Each day is a battle not to cry.  Not to break down.  Not to lash out and throw glass objects haphazardly around the room in frustration.

Source

So, in an effort to control my world (or just realign my sanity), I do "projects" (some of which can be seen HERE, HERE, HERE, and HERE).  In a manic, "you'd think I was crazy if you actually knew" kind of way.  I love my house, I love my projects (and take an absurd amount of pride in them), but they approach the line of "crazy" often.  They provide control though.  Something I'm able to do well.  A place where I'm able to succeed.  And some days, if I can't be successful at something then I really do break down. 

Probably the biggest theme here is "control".  Big surprise there, right?  But I'm not quite sure how to relinquish all control without my world spinning violently on its center.  I am assured, however, by the reminder that life changes can start small and grow.  I can't have the prayer life of Paul immediately, but I CAN pray for two minutes a day and let that habit grow through repetition.

So, for my daily reminder of the day, I look to the yellow index card I've had for more than four years.  The same one that I took for my study abroad program in Mexico, that I've taped on walls, and that I currently have attached to the bottom of my monitor screen at work.  It's something that I need to see everyday, and a calming reminder each and every time I read it.  Funny how familiar scripture can seep into your life and form a certain level of comfort over rocky and irritated places.  That's what Philippians 4:6-7 does for me.

Guilt

My life is punctuated with feelings of guilt. I'm not who, I perceive, someone needs ms to be. I feel guilty I let them down. I feel overwhelmed because I am contemplating skipping a monthly meeting I feel obligated to attend. Guilt. I don't even have to do something offending to feel guilty.

I was reminded today, by a good friend, that feeling that guilt is a choice by me. While I agree with this friend, I'm lost in the nuances of it. Should I feel guilty for actually missing the meeting? Or is that unnecessary as well?

Is guilt's only place meant for sinning against Christ? Specifically left at the base of the cross.

Just to know you and be loved is enough

"Just to know you and be loved is enough
God of heaven come down, heaven come down."
-Robbie Seay Band

I heard this song on the radio yesterday and it hit me.

Is knowing God and knowing that He loves me enough for me?  Or do I expect more?

I'm challenged to let this truth sink in today.  To let Jesus be enough.  No strings.