Look With Your Eyes

Brace yourself for an extremely random post. Random and a good bit self-indulgent. Once again, I just feel indulged. I feel like school could start back up next week and I would have had summer enough. That is how much I've done, and not done, since school let out. I just feel flat out blessed. Blessed to be here at home. Blessed to be here on Earth. Blessed to be His.

... burdened, still, to find a purpose for it all. Yes, I'm back in that cycle of feeling so incredibly fortunate and not having a clue of what to do with it. I've enjoyed just about every second of the past two weeks, but I'm at the point where I'm realizing it will have all been in vain if I don't do some for real reflecting on what it is God would really have me do with my o-so-blessed life. The only thing that has been missing from this break thus far has been that time with Him. That, friend, is a big only-- it's a big gap that is rapidly growing larger. If I'm not careful, I'll be back here in three months saying the only thing that was missing was reverent time of prayer, bible study and service. That is not okay with me. Fortunately, school is not starting back up next week and I do still have three months. This is me deciding to do something with it.

So what have I been doing?

First of all, the friday before finals, I went to the Senior Roast. Where we cooked our departing friends medium well and served them with a side of memories to savor one last time. It was the (almost) perfect occasion for a sister picture... (I say almost, because Modes was too busy doing something else... like maybe being a good friend, or something ridiculous like that.)

On Saturday night, we trespassed. But 'cept for we only sort of were breaking the law because we broke into the house with a key. You're thinking "how is that illegal?" This was exactly my point. Still, Noelle kept cautious for the evening. You see, she was given the key to the chiclets' house (from here on out to be referred to as "La petite maison blanche"-- "the little white house") that weekend, but hadn't yet signed the lease. So technically, she wasn't supposed to waltz up in there like she owned the place. But we've never been ones to let technicalities keep us from a little fun :)

and, I mean, we had to eat our chinese food somewhere!

Co-inhabitants unite! ... Dina, where are you?! oh right... friggin' Spain

Next thing I knew, I was finished with the final from hades (the one with three (3) essay questions... you remember) and only had to write 9 papers. Delirious is the word I would use to describe us all by this point. But boy, we were having a good time. Wednesday night we headed over en mass to the CCM where we had a delightful breakfast for dinner-- courtesy, one last time, of Big D.

Have I introduced you to my next roommate, Katie Jones. Go ahead and be jealous that she holds the same initials as King James. I know I am. While you're at it, be jealous that I get the honor of sharing a room-- and a big bed-- with her next year. I know I would be.

Told you, delirious. Except for Jen, with that grin, who was high on the whole "I'm done with senior year, aren't I so cool" feeling. I am not, for the record, jealous of her in the least.

... potentially a little bit.

This is quite possible my favorite picture of the year. The perfect last night with Rooms. Typing up some great papers, a half-packed room, up in the big bed, music playing, with a surprising amount of laughter coming from two people pondering the social issues of race, sexuality, and religion surrounding African American literature.

Noelle took a break for a little while to make mischief with Big D. And once again be somewhat illegal. Next year the ladies will have to pay for their own toilet paper. Having said that, the supply closet, which contains the toilet paper supplied to Willard residents for free, was just conveniently unlocked...

The next day, we were outta there. As glad as I was to be done, and as exhausted as we all were from all the moving, this picture still sort of hurts my heart.

This one, though, just makes me happy. We may be done being roommates, only God knows about that one. But Lord knows, Noelle will always be Rooms and we are not done.

So then it was off to Baltimore with Dad. I shared some of my heavier thoughts, but did I mention what an awesome, prolonged daddy-daughter date we had? I was spoiled. I fought that for a little bit, but ultimately decided to be so incredibly grateful to have a dad who wants to shower me with treats on a rockin' vacation. Speaking of shower, it did. Sunday-Wednesday it poured. Which was beautiful and all, but made it hard to get good pictures outside. Instead, we just went to movies. 3 of them. Including Wolverine. For the record, I'm still in fake love with Hugh Jackman.

On Saturday Dad and I ate lunch at P.F. Chang's. One of the topics of discussion was 24 and whether or not Tony was really bad. Deep stuff, you know. Dad was working up all sorts of scenarios that would allow for Tony to still be a good guy. On Sunday I slept in while Dad went to conferences. Upon returning, Dad muttered a quick "hey Sadie" and proceeded to sit in a chair by the bed. A few seconds of silence passed before he sighed. "You really think Tony is bad?" Out of the blue. First thing he says to me. Needless to say, we were hooked to the tv on Monday night. On vacation in Baltimore, we stayed up in our hotel room with Cheesecake Factory ordered in, to see how Jack Bauer would save the world this hour. And also to find out the question obviously burning in my dad's mind, could Tony still be good? Peterso and I texted extensively on the subject, which was a blast. *spoiler alert* The answer is no. You should have seen my pitiful father when he came to this realization. Crazy, crazy man. Fun, fun dad.

From there I came home. Ah, home. It was a wednesday night, which means, for the rest of the Smith family, Financial Peace University. I went along for the ride, and it was exactly as I've always pictured it. Old Smiths and Young Smiths off to school for the night :)

The next day I went to interview for a couple of jobs and then met up with Katie and Emily (D- Ark.) while they took some beautiful senior pictures.

Friday was my personal favorite, though. I got up early to go pick up Hudson and Addie so Steph, Katie and I could watch them for the day. On the way back to my house, we stopped for Krispy Kreme and to play for a good little bit.

hmm, umm. Then, we were off to the Kris Allen concert. What? The American Idol Kris Allen. Yes! He hails from Arkansas and made it to the top 3 on the show last week, so we went down to the River Market, babies and all, to hear him sing. In some major humid heat.

It was worth it, though, because I got to hang out with my sister-in-law, semi-niece and nephew, all of Little Rock,

oh! and a Bestie.

Then we ate pizza on Steph and I snapped a few pictures that prove once and for all that Huddy is turning into a little boy.

I'll add this next one because I love this friend and because those dogs are a hoot. Tally is at left, Brown's on the right.

Then on Saturday I got up to go to Addie's baby dedication... respect the bow.

Also on Saturday, Luke bought me the Sims 2 at game exchange. That is where I've been since :) I'm only kidding. But only kind of. Because really I am re-addicted. Which is stupid because that is just not real life.

What is real life is that I now work at Tropical Smoothie and LOVE IT! I have such fun and helpful co-workers and I truly enjoy the work. Smoothies are fun! Tomorrow will only be my third day, so I hope I'm not speaking too soon. All I'm saying is that each and every one of my worries has been tended to and I mean it when I say that life couldn't get much better than it is right now.

Except of course, if these dang mosquitoes would let up! I swear (except I usually don't) that I have been bitten (or stung, or sucked or whatever) in my armpit, on my heel, on my big toe, on my EYELID, on the knuckle of my pinky finger and 23 other places. Yes, I am really keeping count.

And, then, of course, life could get a lot better if I were actively offering it up-- offering myself in prayer so that it wouldn't just be great for me, but that it would be helpful in making life better for other people. Yes, life would be better if I were being used. So my next move is to find a place to serve. And, more importantly, to find places to love.

Our current sermon series at Rock Creek is entitled "The Greatest of These" and is all about love. This past week, Greg spoke about love paying attention. He made the point that love means looking at the other person. Looking and seeing.

The story he used to illustrate this point was of Jesus and the blind beggar on the way to Jericho. The man yelled at Jesus "Son of David, have mercy on me!" While everyone yelled at him to be quiet, Jesus stopped and asked simply, "what do you want me to do for you?" And then he listened, because Jesus loved.

The third point was that love means lifting up another person. Greg used Zacchaeus as the example this time. I had always assumed Zach was up in the tree because he was short (a wee little man was he, you know?) and wanted to see. I also knew he was a tax collector, but never put 2 and 2 together. He wasn't in the tree because he couldn't see, he was in the tree because he was hated. People were taught to dislike him. Kids were told to spit on tax collectors and as they grew up it was okay and encouraged to curse at them. That's just how things were. They were liars and cheaters. But the Jesus, Zaccheaus was a wounded men who just needed to be loved. So he had dinner with him. Jesus payed attention. He wasn't judging like all the rest because he saw Zaccheaus. Greg said, "when we judge someone, we've ceased paying attention to them." We've made ourselves believe we're better and only "see" that person as less.

Love means letting go of those prejudices. It means paying attention. "Pay" as in it may cost you something-- pride, money, time, popularity. Pick your poison. I couldn't help but think of the man in Baltimore. I saw him hurting and chose to look away. I chose to not show him love. So now when I say I'm looking for ways to love, I do so not only knowing it's going to cost something-- but hoping it will. Because to understand a fraction of what I cost Christ, love is going to have to start costing me something. And if I really did start to understand the price payed for me, I would be more than okay with the cost of loving others.

Gay, straight. Black, white. Mexican, Middle-Eastern. Male, female. Rich, poor. Others. Period.

I've got to stop judging people based on those labels if I'm ever going to really see them. Dad said one time when I was little I kept saying "look, Daddy, look." And he said "I am, baby." But he was busy doing something else and not really paying attention-- not even really looking in my direction. I was, understandably, frustrated. "No," I said. "Look with your eyes."

People are, understandably, frustrated with the Christian church. Because a lot of the time we aren't looking with our eyes. We're heckling the people Jesus would walk up to, help out of a tree and invite to dinner. I'm out to start looking with my eyes this summer. It means seeing myself a little more critically and seeing others a little more mercifully. Not because I'm wrong and they're right but because Jesus said to.

And that's enough for me. Because he paid attention to me first.