White Finals

The title made more sense in my head, I assure you. Basically, it snowed on Saturday (in Arkansas we call it a "wintry mix"). And while it wasn't necessarily a white Christmas, it sure felt like Christmas for probably the first time this season. Just in time for finals. Just in time to remind me that there is much more to right now than finals.

And He is beautiful.

Calling it a Night

Talking to mom always helps.

Even when she tells you that the stress doesn't get better. ;-) No really, it helped.

Some people don't even have that. A mom. Indeed, my situation could be much dire-er (go with it). I know that. But it wouldn't have been an anxiety attack if had been thinking rationally. I'm going to bed confident that I've done what I can for tonight. Here is the kicker:

"Then I thought in my heart

'the fate of the fool will overtake me also.

what then do I gain by being wise?'

I said in my heart

'this too is meaningless.'

For the wise man, like the fool, will not long be remembered;

in days to come both will be forgotten.

Like the fool, the wise man too must die."

-Ecclesiastes 2:15-16

Not exactly the exam week pick me up I was looking for, you know. Like when your mom basically tells you life doesn't get easier from here, anyway, so deal. (it was nicer than that in conversation, and she did assure me that she'd be on the first flight here to help me deal. If she wasn't, you know, dealing with her own stuff).

But read on.

"What does the worker gain from his toil? I have see the burden God has laid on men. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live. That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil-- this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that men will revere him." - Ecclesiastes 3:9-14

Revere Him tonight, I do. Because without it, without him, there is zero satisfaction in typing 20 pages of notes and reading hundreds of pages about the honor system of Latin America and revolutionary motivations of the working class during the 18th Century. Ziltch satisfaction.

But he makes everything beautiful in its time. Fabulous essays tomorrow or not so much, what God does is what endures. I'm not adding to it.

Or. (this is what brings me peace). taking from it.

God brings significance to my work, not vice versa. I cannot fathom what He has done. He, meanwhile, sits ready to honor what I have done if I choose to revere his omnipotence.

And so, God, I do. And with that I'm calling it a night. What more can I do?

Lost It

I'm waiting for my study partner in a basement that reminds me so much of my freshman year. Tonight I parked in the parking lot I wasn't allowed to have a car in back then and pictured the first time my parents came to Fredericksburg after dropping me off. I walked the brick sidewalk that I can remember walking the day they left me here when I thought for the very first time "this is it. Four years. In four years I'll be walking this same sidewalk." I remember feeling what I was up against and wondering how much work I really had ahead of me.

I guess anxious was the word. But mostly just uncertain then.

Today I was anxious. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't work, I couldn't even eat. Feeling like I hadn't been doing my best and that there isn't enough time to get everything done. Feeling like I'm not going to do well this week. Worried about my grade. Feeling like I'd lost it.

Thinking what I had to do. How much time I had to do it in. How badly I physically felt. How empty I spiritually felt. Exhausted but not able to rest.

I'm better now. But still struggling. I know God's got the big picture. But right now I feel like there is a lot of responsibility on my shoulders to do well. Or at least do my best. I have not lost my ability to do that.

And God? He hasn't lost it. Ever. So that's good.

All Work and No Play

...would make Sadie a dull girl. Luckily for me, I'm surrounded by people who believe in the power of play. I feel it is a pretty essential aspect of a work ethic, personally.

Where would my studies on Latin America and the American Revolution and James Farmer and Francais be without hallway bowling or wood floor pair socking skating? Without target excursions or dance parties? Comfy dinner soirees and snow day pictures? How would I learn without these things?

Don't even get me started about where I'd be without the Glee soundtrack (or without Jill who gave it to me).

My favorite song on the cd is "Bust a Move." It's actually a toss up between that and "Dancing With Myself." And the 17 other songs. Like "Sweet Caroline."

I just got back from a reception at my Revolution Professor's home just down the street-- a fun time to dress up, wear my bow coat (one of the best Christmas gifts ever), mingle with friends and make conversation with adults that I admire. Now I'm back in my exact same Christmas pajama attire (with the addition of pearls because I was too lazy to take them off) and I'm uploading pictures of the weekend because my card is almost full of our "play." Those images might not make it onto this post for a while because there *is* such a thing as too much play. It's time to get back to work. I will not be a dull girl, though. For I have had fun in the past 48 hours.

Thank you, God, for friends who play.

To quote Glee, good times never seemed so good.

Of course then it goes on to say "come on fatso just bust a move." (end note: ironic since I just did a report for my weight training class on this ridiculous website. Please watch a couple of the videos for a laugh! ... my personal favorite is Potty Hottie). I, however, am out of time for move busting. All play and no work would make Sadie and failing girl, you know.

My Day Life As a History Major

Two posts in a row with the use of the really fun, addicting, funny if used in the right context like probably not right now strike tool may be a bit much, I know. But I just learned it Wednesday, so it's quite novel to me.

And it was fitting for this title, for cuz while I intend to highlight my day at the history symposium, the truth is that it's really my life. Or part of it.

Kind of a major part this week.

Get it? Major.

The closer it gets to the actual final period the less it takes to entertain me. I do apologize.

So anyway. The symposium is a chance for all the senior history majors to present their research. There are 7 sessions, each session consisting of 3 speakers. My professor told our class that we could get one percentage point on our overall average added for every 50 minute session we attend and write a short paragraph on. I had an 8 a.m. class and meeting with another professor at 10, so I missed two sessions. But, baby, I got my 5 points.

And learned about 15 topics I never knew I cared about.

1. Early influences on Thomas Jefferson

2. The writings of Jefferson and Washington regarding independence

3. The Hamilton-Burr Duel

4. Otto von Bismark and his attempt to bring the Catholic church under German rule

5. The Catholic church during the Holocaust

6. Jewish Immigration to Brazil

7. The Muslim Brotherhood's original ideology

8. The U.S. State Department and the Zionist movement

9. The Attack on the Grand Mosque of Egypt in 1979

10. American Reaction to the 1968 Olympic Human Rights Protest

11. American presence in Cambodia

12. Women and memory of the Argentine Juanta

13. Creation of herecy by the orthodox church

14. Relationship between John Knox and Mary, Queen of Scots

15. Tobacco and Society of the Antebellum south

Don't mean to bore you. Promise it was longer for me. It really was a good time, though, because I felt like a major. I talked to professors and laughed about stupid history jokes with my fellow students and learned for extra credit the sake of learning and sipped coffee and munched on scones. The things we do in the commonwealth. ;-)

Just when I was about to lose all connection to my roots, what with all of this sophistication and all, I got a package from home in the mail. With a traveling Christmas decoration, healthy and junky munchies, a sweet cup and, to keep with the theme of the day, patriotic sea salt chips*

*may also be categorized as a junky munchie

I rode Link to French this morning, then to the symposium,

then back to meet with my French professor,

then back to the symposium, then back to my apartment, then back to the symposium.

I don't want to kill Link every time I ride him now We have a much better relationship these days.

As I began my Latin America review sheet today, I found a story that was quite interesting. Not because I am particularly concerned with the provinces of San Luis and Zacatecas (honestly don't even know where they are. Which probably does not entail good things for my geography final...), but because there is a message behind the sentence that I find especially applicable to me sometimes. It's out of a diary of the Spanish Viceroy who is in charge of going to Mexico in 1816 to squash rebellion (now known as the mexican revolution because Mexico won). The poor guy is trying to sound optimistic in his letters back to Spain. The truth is that he was getting destroyed. Here is the excerpt of the letter:

The provinces of San Luis and Zacatecas continue in a good state, except for the fact that the gavillos of Guanajuata, penetrate them to commit their accustomed robberies and atrocities.

You ever say you're in a good state except for the fact that you're barely holding down the fort?

Juan ruiz de Apodaca can sympathize. So can I.

Truth is, I'm really in a good state. My papers are done, my final schedule is more than doable, I've had an awesome day learning from some cool people, I'm headed out to dinner and an orchestra concert (commonwealthy things, you know), my apartmentmates and friends crack me up, I feel physically good again, and I have study socks from my mommy.

But.

When it comes to the little red journal and big book of All Good Things, I'm barely holding down the fort. And when push comes to shove it doesn't really matter how good I am, it matters how good God is. It doesn't matter what my grade is, it matters that I did my best because in everything I do it should be done with all of my heart as if unto God. How unfortunate it would be a week from now to realize I hadn't once stopped to seek Him in all of this work. Or even in all of the being good.

I really like this song by Chad Markley. It's basically the only non-Christmas song I'm listening to these days. Sad, I know. It's called Live and Lose. The lyrics really speak for themselves and the melody is just so simple. Plus you can download it!

Live and Lose

Find me here

My lost is yours to know

Look for me

There are seeds of hope to sow

In the cracks

Where I live and lose

Search for me

I’m hidden but you’ll see

Wait for me

These legs won’t carry me

Past the cracks, where I live and lose

(Bridge)

You can be my noise

When I have no sound

You can be my net

When I stumble down

You can be my leap, up off the ground

My escape

From the live and lose

Live and Lose Take 2 by chadmarkley

I am now off to study like a history major. For man. Unto God.

Hands Drinks in Fists Hand

Well, caffeine in hand, really.

These lovely friends tried to make fun of me for showing up to my Revolution class with them. My words were “yes, I am double fisting it and I would appreciate if we could keep the snarky comments to a minimum, K, thanks.” It was in one breath, you see, as per the caffeine.

(yes I did creep a picture because they freaked out when I told them to pose. This is Mo mid-sentence: "I have so checked out, I don't even know why I am here...")

What the picture does not show is the big ‘ol water bottle I am also drinking out of to offset the negative impact the caffeine on my system (jitters, kidney’s workload, heavy on my stomach). All of this works together to insure maximum visits to the necessaries, aka great and, well, necessary opportunities to take a moment away from my computer screen.

It’s really quite a fun little system I have going here.

A not fun system? The internet in this joint. It’s as if everyone has a project or paper to do right now. You’d think it was the last week of classes or something…

It is?

Well I should get to work!

…Hands caffeine in fists.

First, I need to take a little excursion...

The Most Wonderful Time Of the Year

Oh, yes. Truly fantastic.

Especially after this genius decided that after a day of feeling much sub-er than par she should eat what the Nest labels "mac and beef."

Since my lunch decided to, uh hum, make an early exit, I was pretty hungry come sitting down with my mac and beef. So I ate the entire thing. Not smart.

But eating was something to be doing other than my oral history research paper, so it's what I did. I am now taking the smarter way out and blogging. Because, despite drastic weather changes messing with my head and my sudden gastrointestinal distress syndrome onset, it really is what I believe to be the most wonderful time of the year.

(sidenote: do not be hating up on Hanson's Silent Night medley!)

So I'll take just a second to tell you about my wish list. It is pretty simple. The "item" that takes position number one is actually more of a process and I've actually dreamed about it for a few years now. And I'm actually getting it.

I guess I've been waiting for the process to feel real to actually put my thoughts to paper (well, screen). But I have a feeling that none of this will feel real until I'm at home sharing the house (or maybe even my room) with a new (permanent or otherwise) member of the Smith family. My parents are in the final stages of becoming state-approved foster parents.

How cool is that?!

I don't mean like aren't they such great people, so worthy of praise. I just really think it is awesome. And I, for one, can't wait. Imagine my response, then, when my mom asked me a while back if I'd be upset if we had a child placed in our home before Christmas. Um, hardly. I would hardly mind. When she asked later in the phone call if it was really okay, I told her that I spent the entirety of our conversion trying to come up with a way to be upset or hurt or feel infringed upon by these fostering proceedings happening sooner rather than later and I couldn't find a one.

Not one way that I am not thrilled.

It could be a last child thing, always dreaming about younger siblings (my brother and sister might be slightly more disenchanted with the younger sibling thing), but I've long wished by parents would adopt. Which is easy for me to say given that, well, they'd be doing the parenting.

That's another reason I've encouraged the adoption (or foster care) option-- I love the way they parent. Sure I'm biased, and I don't mean that as in "look how great I turned out." I just admire their cohesion, their interaction, and their attention to each other and as parents. I've always tried to meet their expectations, but they've never made meeting their expectations the ultimate goal. The rules in our house never came out of nowhere, so if I was ever angry with them, I couldn't blame it on some arbitrary parenting decision they made to make my life miserable. Consequently, my life hasn't been very miserable. There are too many kids who can't say as much. Either because their parents rules were so much of a burden or because lack of them offered very little guidance.

Some kids' parents aren't around at all. Some are in legal trouble. Some are dead. Some are abusive.

Some kids aren't cared for well. Others aren't loved at all.

So my desire over all these years to adopt has had something to do with my selfish desire to have a younger sibling, sure. But mostly because I've known for a long time that I have been loved in excess. Which makes little sense to me given all the kids out there loved too little.

One of my favorite things about my family is the amount of love that goes around. Imagine my delight, then, that we're widening the circle.

I really don't know what to expect. Other than a God-sized movement in the lives of the Smith family-- whomever that may include. It feels like it should be a monumental change and it probably will be. But it just doesn't feel like it right now. It still feels like a dream coming true-- something to mark off my wish list.

The reality of which might not hit me until a child aged 1-10 spends his or her days in our house for a year. Until there are church crafts taking over our fridge or hot chocolate stains on upper lips or tears shed or disney movies watched. Until sleep is lost or colds are had or x-boxes played. Our life with whatever child is, as of yet, unpredictable.

Probably the not knowing what to expect is substantially more nerve racking for my parents. But they know and trust that God will do His thing, the way He already has in this process. I pray for their health and their work and the logistics of this all.

Mostly, I pray for my new almost sibling (s?). Am I allowed to called them that? Relating them to a degree of sibling-hood? I'm not sure. But I intend to love him or her as if they are. For however long they are a part of our household. Sibling-like entity just didn't seem very endearing.

Angie Smith created this prayer pattern last November to pray over her girls.

1. When they wake up: "Let the morning bring (child's name) word of your unfailing love, for she has put her trust in You. Show (her/him) the way (she/he) should go, for to you (he/she) lifts up her soul." (Adapted from Psalm 143:8)

2. When they are getting dressed: "Therefore, as God's chosen child, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourself with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Lord, help (him/her) bear with others and forgive whatever grievances (he/she) has against others. Help (him/her) forgive as the Lord forgave (him/her). And over all these virtues, help (him/her) put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity." (Adapted from Colossians 3:12-14)

3. While they are eating: "Teach (child's name) the secret of being content in any and every situation whether well-fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. Teach (him/her) that (he/she) can do everything through him who gives (him/her) strength." (Adapted from Philippians 4:12-13)

4. When they go out of the house: "(Name of child), do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is-His good, pleasing and perfect will." (Adapted from Romans 12:2)

5. While they are taking a bath: Lord, give (name of child) clean hands and a pure heart, and let (him/her) not lift (his/her) soul to an idol or swear by what is false. Let (him/her) receive blessing from the Lord and vindication from God (his/her) Savior. Let (him/her) be part of the generation of those who seek him, who seek your face, O God of Jacob. (Adapted from Psalm 24:4-6)

6. When they are going to bed: "The Lord Your God is with you; he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, be will rejoice over you with singing." (Zephaniah 3:17)

7. While they are sleeping: "I pray that (name of child) will do everything without complaining or arguing, so that he/she may become blameless and pure, a child of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which he/she shines like a star in the universe as he/she holds out the word of life-in order that he/she may boast on the day of Christ that he/she did not run or labor for nothing." (Adapted from Philippians 2:14-16)

I can't wait until I have a name to fill in the blanks. For now, God knows the name on the tip of my tongue.

To Him we aren't valiant or doing some big great thing, we're doing something He's asked of us. No fanfare there. Just peace.

I know emotions will be fragile-- foster kids come from shattered lives. I know this experience will not be the actualization of my childhood dreams for more siblings or of the passing thoughts I had as a teenager of spreading the love. But it is happening.

It doesn't mean the Smiths are great. It means God has got to come through in a great way.

If it's grace we're dishing out, then it's because of the grace we've been shown.

There are no strangers

There are no outcasts

There are no orphans of God

So many fallen, but hallelujah

There are no orphans of God

Come ye unwanted and find affection

Come all ye weary, come and lay down your head

Come ye unworthy, you are my brother

If such a thing as grace exists

Then grace was made for lives like this

(Avalon)

I am so thankful for that grace.

It makes it the most wonderful time of the year.

It's also making my Christmas wish come true.

(one last thing to point out: notice the shout out to Rosa Parks on my history widget... and you thought December 1st was a waste of a day!)