That You Are Mindful Of Me

This picture was taken the wednesday before spring break. The day it took me from 11:50 to 12:25 to get approximately one quarter of a mile across campus from my french class to my dorm. Something crazy went wrong with my back the day before at the gym and any wrong move (well, really, any move) sent a shooting pain down my leg and back up to the growing knot in my lower back. So I spent the afternoon laying still on pillows contorted in all different ways to support me in the right places as I memorized the tissue classification system. Riveting. 

(very random side note, but speaking of riveting, we just had a 1 a.m. fire drill)

Please understand that my word choice is dripping in sarcasm. Because if you thought studying Biology was boring before, try being in your bed lying still for 5 hours while studying bio. I know. Woe. is. me. Seriously though there is something so humbling about not knowing if you can walk the last few feet to your dorm room. People before you and behind you do not know the excruciating pain you are in as you slowly attempt to catch the door and hold it open. It is kind of isolating (does it say anything about me that the most isolating experience I have to speak of comes from a simple, temporary back problem? I still don't have an answer as to why I am so blessed in that regard). It made me think about what other people are going through-- be it physical affliction or emotional hurt-- that I completely overlook every day. It occurred to me that sometimes we're best at hiding feelings of isolation. We retreat. People would look at me like "why can't you just hurry up" and my first thought would be "if you even knew how badly I felt right now!" 

I think it even cuts deeper in times of emotional upset, too. People look at you like "why can't you get happy" and you think "if you knew what I was feeling right now..." But you don't say it. You act fine and you let that frustration build up inside. Or at least I do. Instead of reaching out, we are determined to handle it by ourselves. Isolated. We wish people would help or be understanding but we give them no indication of how to go about doing so. Soon you begin asking yourself "why can't I just get happy?" Relationships feel strained. Work looks all the more daunting. God feels distant. Because the truth is, on your own, you can't get happy. I can't just get happy. Not any more than I can stop a nerve impulse from signaling pain in my body. But I can get still. 

Can I be honest? I haven't been still in a good couple of weeks. 

This does not mean I have been miserable for weeks. Far from it, really. For quite the same reason I can't really complain about those days of back pain-- friends. The reason I have that picture, the reason I'm smiling in it, is because Deirdre came in to check on me and decided to document and entertain. Later that night I went to IHOP to study with Annie until 4 a.m. for the next day's bio test. The next day I stayed up until 5 a.m. with Kelly studying for our sixties class midterm. And the next day? Spring Break officially began. 

(okay so this is not studying at IHOP, but now whenever I think of Bio with Annes, I think of this picture)

Last week the chiclets organized a study party. Study parties are one of the greatest examples I have of the "misery loves company" theory. But the company really does take away the misery in these cases. Consequently, as you see in the chart, productivity (as measured in amount of work completed) pretty much maxes out at 15%. That same day Deirdre used her Old Navy gift card to buy me a fresh, springy dress and (thinly) striped tee. Because I need more stripes in my wardrobe. Note, however, that they are thin, so from far away the navy stripes look more like light blue. It is progress in my attempt to rid myself of my stripe addiction.  

On Friday, Peterso and I went to Jill's apartment to make Fajitas, cheese dip (er... queso according to the northerners), virgin margaritas, and cake balls. The dinner was themed around the episode of Friends entitled "The One Where Ross is Fine"-- Jill's favorite. After dinner we saw Deirdre dance at the Blarney Stone Pub where I enjoyed a delightful diet coke. It was so fun to see her in her element. When Peterso and I returned to the dorm, we ended up talking until 5 a.m. I'm pretty sure I did most of the talking (sorry, Peterso), but it really helped me work through my thoughts on important things. Plus, Ashley and I need times like that to know where each other is coming from and have a true appreciation for each others strengths, where I often get tripped by the weaknesses. Those talks are like setting the reset button without erasing any memory.

Last night's 5-Alive was fun. It was a mission trip report and it was great to see where exactly my prayers for the group went. Each person has their own story, some sort of different insight coming out off the trip and I thank God for that group of people who sacrificed a precious week of time to serve Him by serving others. My prayer is that God would continue a good work in the hearts of the people in Washington, D.C. It's hard to feel like you really made an impact when you only have 5 days, but He gives it significance. I ask, specifically on this end of the journey, that God would continue to bless the efforts of each of the 17 people who served. He has done a good work in each one and it is so encouraging to see others act out of gratitude for that truth. 

These are not my only examples, but you get the point. Life is good. But the quiet moments in between the high points are a little hazy. They lack clarity because they lacked purpose. The longer I go without stilling myself, the harder it becomes to do so. The harder it becomes to really "get happy." Like a general attitude of joy. I want it. But there is no way to get sustained joy from momentary happiness. Likewise, there is no way momentary unhappiness has to rid a person of joy. But when I go a good few weeks without seeking the Giver of joy, the momentary unhappiness has a much greater hold on my attitude than I would care for it to, or that I would care to admit. 

Today was a happy day. My econ. test went well, we watched a movie in African American lit, I had a Spirit-filled lunch with MB that involved planning a sister dinner and discussing BCM leadership roles, and I didn't have my sixties class today. It was sixty degrees outside today, though. After a week of rain, a skirt worthy day. So I proudly donned one of the MANY skirts Big D has donated me over the course of this year. And I marched myself right on over the the BCM to pay for a spot at the spring Leadership Training Conference in the mountains. Also to grab my future roommate and suitemates to go to housing selection. 

Want to know a small way God has worked? Well, it's small in the scheme of things. But in my life momentarily, it is HUGE! My lottery number for housing was 1043. This means that 1042 people get to have their pick at a living situation before me. My future suitemate Kelsey's number was 71. This means that when Kelsey's number was called, the three others of us got to follow her up and sign up for housing together. 71! Since there has already been one housing selection night already for seniors, we were the 6th group called up today. For safety I wont say where I'll be living next year, but let's just say it is as optimal as on campus housing comes. It is an outcome so, so different than would have been if I would've had to wait for 1043 to roll along. Then I went to dinner with Chris, Noelle, and Meredith at O'Charley's to celebrate my news as well as Noelle's amazing news. Remember that time she planned out her life (Okay, her degree plan)? It was approved tonight! This is after being twice disapproved and much heartbreak on Noelle's part. 

In all of this happiness I felt so convicted because I wanted it to be sustained in joy. And given my lack of stillness, of alone time with God, of purpose-seeking, I felt a twinge of unease. The conviction isn't what drives me here tonight, though. The gratitude is. I am so grateful for today. And in reflecting on the past couple of weeks, characterized by the tiresome struggle to get myself happy and stay that way, I am convinced that the feelings of isolation were so unnecessary. They happen, sure. But I worship a God that is mindful of me. Who promises that I am never alone. Who doesn't ask that I have everything wrapped in a pretty package before I present my burdens to Him. Who doesn't ask that I have Him figured out before I approach. Each of these things He offers as a source of joy. 

He's constantly using all sorts of situations to drive us to find that joy. Sometimes He uses sorrow to lead a person to joy. Brokenness. Pain. Isolation. Times we're so down that we just crave healing and companionship. Sometimes He uses happiness to lead a person to joy. Elation. Health. Friends. Times we're so high we crave sustainment. 

Who am I that you are mindful of me?

that you hear me when I call?

Is it true that you are thinking of me?

How you love me, it's amazing.

-Philips, Craig, and Dean

In general this is not my favorite song. But it seemed so applicable. I've had it in my head all day long and I thought I'd share the love :) 

"When I consider your heavens,

the work of your fingers,

the moon and the stars,

which you have set in place,

what is man that you are mindful of him,

the son of man that you care for him?"

       -Psalm 8:3-4