I Smell Like Feet

Seriously, I'm sitting at my computer, trying to squeeze in some last minute work for the evening and all I can think of is that my feet smell like nasty tennis shoes. This is mostly because I have been out of clean socks for about a week and, instead of doing laundry, have gone barefoot in my shoes. Mistake.

It has to end soon, too. Because I have to smell all feminine and pleasant for three weddings this year. Three weddings in which I am at least* a bridesmaid.

*maid of honor in one case

I bring this up because I found out tonight that I will be in this beautiful friend's ceremony.





She's my skating buddy, my fellow so you think you can dance connoisseur, 24 fan, math-loathing, life enjoying, Jesus loving friend, Sarah. And she's engaged to her better half. Who want me present when they make it official. I don't know what I did to have these people who mean so much to me reciprocate those feelings with such an honor. Let me tell you, though, it will be a so fun year. I'm just convinced.

It doesn't always look so hunky dory. You know when you hurt someone's feelings and you're really sorry but sometimes that just isn't enough? Well, that reeks more than stinky feet. And I would know. Because I smell like feet.

Good news.

I can just throw my nasty socks in the wash. What has happened can be cleansed.

I can buy new sneakers that don't smell like, well, you know. I can adjust my attitude for what is next.

Why should I gain from His reward  I cannot give an answer  But this I know with all my heart  His wounds have paid my ransom

(there was so much pun intended in that.)

And as I deal with my own stank, sweet aromas creep from the woodwork. Aromas that are not my own. Because I smell like feet.

That's really all I've got following my little road trip to Richmond and back. I'm just pre-gaming for my adventure this weekend, which you will hear about very soon, I am sure. There will be pictures. Which will be good since I've resigned myself to giving you pictures of detergent. Just saying.

Got anything you need to throw in the wash?

A First

"It's a first for all of us.

Uncharted, you might say.

There is a binder

and some fuel

and company

and a phone.

There are unhelpful bridal consultant people

and laughs

and smirks a la Jim.

There are fails

and veils

and sometimes the need for some straight up gin.

There are poses

and kisses

and knots to be tied.

There is red

there's pink

but most importantly, white.

It's a first for us all,

marrying one of us off,

and through the laughter and cheers

you might hear a scoff.

It can not be easy planning your day far away

from the one to whom 'i do' will you say.

But we stand in as best as we can all the while

because selfishly, girl, we dig this new style

of hoping for love and planning for adulthood

of soaking it up while we can, as we should.

Are you discouraged or hurt or unsure what to do?

Are you delighted or giddy or in the mood to buy shoes?

Let me in on your thoughts or keep them in as you wish

for your own life it surely is to live

but as long as I'm a part of this gig you've got planned

please know that I do plan to give

my support, my time, my gift cards for coffee

my attention, my opinion, my love.

Whatever you need as you weather this season

it will my honor be

to be there for you from the first occasion to the last

and all in between ... within reason."

In Good Company

I had an interesting conversation last night.

Interesting in a good way. The best way really. Because it's challenging.

This is what Katie Jones got me thinking about:

How much of my "closeness" to God is determined by the community around me? And not only that but how okay am I with that? And is it wrong to be comforted by your friends? Should you necessarily have to avoid them for the sake of growing closer to God? The One you know (or, and this stings me, don't know) at the end of the day.

My answer literally put Katie to sleep last night. Because it's huge and complicated and something that I've struggled with since before I felt God was calling me from the comfort of my home. Then I subsequently struggled with it when I realized just how easy it was to get comfortable here. Even the "sacrifices" I make are for the sake of seeking acceptance and fellowship with a group of friends.

Which, hear me, in and of itself, is not a bad thing.

But should that community be what I am striving towards first and foremost? Probably not. In my experience its just not as good that way. Not as good as if I was striving to really know the God who lays with me at the end of any given day.

I said I wanted to come to Virginia to know, at the end of the day, that it was God who got me here and carries me through. I wanted Him to apply to my life just as much in the new and the lonely and the challenging as much as he did in the comfortable. And while I feel like He's taken this opportunity to teach me a lot, He's also gone out of His way to provide. So much so that the comfortable thing is still an issue. When I go home and the BCM is not there, and it was there that I sought God, what does that say about my relationship with God?

I would hope it wouldn't mean that the growth and the seeking was over.

It works with just about every other thing that makes me happy in life.

Where do you feel closest to God? Is it a place, in the company of some person, in the absence of people? I'm glad I have these things to bring me back to a knowledge of God, to feeling that closeness. Things He uses to bring me happiness and sometimes, even, an intimacy with Him.

But you can even have intimacy and not necessarily a relationship. The 21st Century is good with this one.

I feel like I see God in all sorts of things. I ask Him to reveal himself in situations and am infatuated by his ability to do so and bring what only He can to certain happenings. I have entered into a relationship with Him and praise Him for sending a human son to be what a perfect and holy God could not be to a sinful and neglectful people. Me.

But if the place and company in which I feel closest to God were taken away, if moments of temporary intimacy became a little fewer, what happens to that relationship?

For me, in the past, it takes an unnecessary beating.

Like if I'm not with a community then my relationship is not legit, but if I'm with a community then the relationship loses a little authenticity. Of course, neither of these has to be the case.

Last night I didn't go to praise and worship because I was exhausted. And the more I kept trying to tell myself "Sadie, just get over it and get in there," the more I realized that my motivations were all off. This person will be disappointed to not see you there, that person is going to ask you about it later on, it'll be good to see those people. (and it would). You should go have some time with God after this crazy week. (and I should). But does that time with God have to look like Praise and Worship at this time for this long for this week.

I decided instead that I would come back to the apartment and have a quiet time with God. Just me and Him. It was going to be so great.

Until then I watched So You Think You Can Dance and fell asleep before I "got around to it."

So there's this place where you know that you don't ha

ve the personal relationship you want, you're striving for it and you're frustrated for the umpteenth time that you're falling into a comfort that is temporary. Still, my spiritual growth of the week didn't have to happen last night because that's when I felt like I should because that's when the community that I feel comfortable with

did.

In hindsight, though, I needed last night. A release, a calm. And if I had let myself get all ett up with guilt about missing my corporate worship opportunity last night, I would not be able to right now praise God for the freedom to worship Him whenever. Wherever. With whomever. Without whomever. Do I take all the opportunities? Absolutely not. But if I did take all the "official" opportunities, the ones I put pressure on myself to take up, would I automatically be closer to knowing God? Maybe I would feel like it. But probably I would be fooled.

I've been reading Crazy Love by Francis Chan. Chapter 6 is rocking my socks off. And by my socks I mean my preconceived notions about how serving God and loving God jived. I mean I've always known you can't really serve God without the motivation that loving Him provides. But then you feel like you just should be serving because you should love Him that much. And then it's all about should instead of what is. And then the discrepancy is exhausting.

Well Francis speaks some truf (thats truth for those of the ebony persuasion) up in the situation. See?

"Isn't that what God wants of us-- to crave this relationship with Him as we crave all genuine love relationships? Isn't that what brings Him glory-- when believers desire HIm and are not merely slaves who serve Him out of obligation?"

"Lukewarm living and claiming Christ's name simultaneously is utterly disgusting to God. And when we are honest, we have to admit that it isn't very fulfilling or joyful to us, either."

"No wonder so few people want to hear from us about what we ourselves feel is a boring, guilt-ridden chore."

"Are we just fooling ourselves that we really can be in love with God and that it is more satisfying than anything else? I don't believe so."

All of this is to say that as I navigate this road to truly being taken by God and having a relationship with Him outside of the communities where I am comfortable, I remain so thankful that I am in good company.

See?

A Big Day

Friends, today is a big day.

What? Why? What's happening?!

More like what happened.

If you look, today only, to the right sidebar of this blog at my history application (or widget or whatever) you will see that this very day, five years ago, the first photos of giant squid were taken in the wild.

So if you ever thought September 30 was a waste of a day, think again.

I mean.

Din't you just need some encouragement today? Some motivation?

I know I did.

So go and do great things. Maybe you won't take the first pictures of the giant squid, but you can tackle something.

For me it will be studying for my Latin America midterm happening tomorrow.

And for you?

Blank

There is a blank word document pulled up on my computer in front of me.

It isn't to be filled with words on Cato (although I could now that I have read it). It's not to fill with consolidated notes to act as a study guide for this thursday's Latin America midterm. It's not to fill with me.

If it were to be a document of my thoughts, it might as just stay blank.

Because honor as it is to be asked to speak to this ministry that I love, it's not about what I think.

The white emanating from my screen is offensive to my eyes as I sit in this dark living room.

I don't have anything to say.

But there are some things that need to be heard. First and foremost by me.

Then, by the grace of God, there are things that need to be heard by our little ministry that could.

I say by God's grace because the truth is that the white space terrifies me. I don't want to be offensive in my words, I don't want to come across as high and mighty and the Lord knows that I don't want to get up there and act like I have my act together. I don't.

Neither does the BCM.

I want to have it together. The body of students I will be speaking with wants to have it together. But wanting just isn't enough.

Wanting to have something to say Tuesday night doesn't mean that I do.

Wanting to know how put my thoughts into a conversation doesn't mean that I can.

Wanting to just move on doesn't mean that we just can.

It has somehow got to happen.

It won't be on my own initiative. I won't be through my best intentions.

Somewhere between where I am and where I want to be, somewhere between where the BCM is and where it wants to be, is a humble, broken acknowledgement that I, we, simply do not know best.

I don't have the words. We don't have the answers.

Never mind my intention. Never mind expectations. Never mind my inadequacy. Never mind our disfunction.

All of that keeps "Document1" blank. Feeling inadequate and disfunctional keeps me from writing at all. Intention and expectation has me writing all the wrong things. Leading to a bunch of backspacing.

Oh I have things I could say. I have all sorts of thoughts circling my head, being chased by little blue birds.

Left to myself, I, simply, am drawing a blank.

But it is not about me.

Who I Want to Be

alternatively entitled "in which I (perhaps) inappropriately ask God to 'do his dang thang.'"

I should be reading Cato right now.

For my class in two hours.

But Cato doesn't give a care about my cares. And even if he did, he couldn't do a dang thing about it.

The fact that I know God can, do a dang thing, that is, brings me here instead.

I just literally ache for Him to transform me. Not necessarily into who I want to be, but into who I could be because He gave Jesus for that purpose. To transform me. Thus, it is not just who I could be, it is who I should be.

Not because someone said so. Not because I feel temporarily insecure. Not because of some great book I'm reading or who I think I'd like to be.

I long for transformation because this, me, I, am so inadequate.

Not discouraged by some paper or test. Not stressed. Not lonely. Not tired. Not sleepy. Though I am sometimes one or a combination of those things. But it's not just in my weakness. Even in my happiness, I have no way of spreading joy to the hurting people around me. My strong suits are simply nothing compared to God's strength. No, in all things, I alone am inadequate.

And that is not who I want to be.

I know I'm not alone. That is abundantly clear when there are two people piled on top of me whose laughter I can literally feel. When I sit and watch Kelsie's giddiness at the premiere of NCIS, I am not alone. When I'm flailing about in Ball circle chasing after some stupid frisbee like a madwoman with various beloved members of the BCM, I am not alone. I don't feel alone when Deirdre and I are laughing in a corner of the nest and life is just so familiar. When my week is trodden with all sorts of lunch dates and dinner dates and tv dates, I don't feel alone.

But when, in some of these dates, I find out about the things burdening my friends, I feel inadequate. Unable to offer advice, at a loss for words, careful not to further hurt feelings. Sad that things just aren't and will not be how they were. I feel inadequate to relate and it can get incredibly lonely. Not because I am lonely. Matter of a fact, in a weird, twisted way, I love that I have these relationships in which to confide. No I'm not lonely. But all the feelings of inadequacy come from this overwhelming feeling that I am alone.

And that is just not who I want to be.

Because God's honest truth about it is that I am not. Or I don't have to be.

I've been through and emerged from a time in my life where I learned (and relearned) that Satan is quick, fast, and in a hurry to take what is meant to be alone time with God and turn it into a lonely time. And while I've come out of that stage, the struggle between the two still rears its ugly head sometimes.

Like when I'm supposed to be reading for class.

I don't feel lonely. I am surrounded by people who show a sincere interest in my life for reasons only God knows.

But I do feel alone. Inadequate. Not helpful.

I could go down the lonely path. Sit around and soak up the alone-ness. Continuing to feel inadequate and not helpful.

Or I could wake up and realize that I am not helpless. This alone time could be with God. It could serve a purpose. It should serve a purpose. The helplessness feeling? It's meant to push me to find help.

The laughter with precious people is nice. It's uplifting. It is ever-reminding me that I am not alone. But it is not my help.

It's not the transforming factor. It is not adequate. An always happy, jolly person? That is not who I want to be.

I want to be like Paul. To know what it is to be in need, to be hungry, to live in want.

I want to be the person Jesus blesses in the Sermon on the Mount. Poor in spirit, mourning, meek, hungry for righteousness, merciful, pure in heart, peacemaking, and persecuted.

Because then I could truly say "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

It's not about not having work, or not having problems or staying away from burdensome things. It's about learning to be content no matter the circumstance. It's not me. And it is not the natural tendency of this completely inadequate mindset.

An always joyful person with an ever-near God, because of an ever-adequate God?

That's who I want to be. And I'm not about to be able to get there by some positive thoughts. Not by achieving a good grade. Not by contagious laughter. Not by late night chats. Not by alone time, not by group time. Not by those things alone, at least. I've got to get better at giving God more than the time left over after all of these things.

I've been reading Frances Chan's "Crazy Love" recently. On page 92 he writes, "leftovers are not merely inadequate; from God's point of view, they're evil. Let's stop calling it 'a busy schedule' or 'bills' or 'forgetfulness.' Its called evil." So you're thinking, as I was, "that's just some crazy conservative too big for his britches (people don't use that word enough) author spoutin' stuff all up out of his head" (this may not have been you exact thought, given that no one uses the word britches and generally people only use one preposition in a prepositional phrase, but it was probably along those lines, right?) But the fact of the matter is that it is all in scripture, and Francis is quick to point out only a few of the very contextualized passages. I mean, whoa.

Maybe that's why I'm not really where I want to be. Am I just feeding God the leftovers? That's what is inadequate.

I don't want to feel helpless in the things going on around me.

I want to be a conqueror.

"No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:37-39)

That's who I want to be.

God, won't you do your dang thang?

Who I Am

It's a tricky thing, having a blog.

It's not like I have a hard time talking.

Clearly.

But it has been brought to my attention that many of y'all are paying attention to all of this talk. Which is good, I suppose, because I naturally write to an audience. It's just been easier that way. To pretend people are listening.

And then to know that Someone is? That blows my mind when I allow God to let it.

I made this blog for Him.

That sounds super spiritual, doesn't it? I don't mean for it to. Journals just got boring. There wasn't a way to include pictures or quickly type out something snappy. When I journaled, I didn't feel like myself. I felt like some hyper-spiritualized version of myself. Like I wrote what I would want my great-granddaughter to remember me as instead of how I truly felt.

Thinking someone might read my thoughts one day pressured me into being something I'm not.

Knowing someone could very well read my thoughts currently requires me to be who I am.

No horns to toot here.

Because most of you know that I have ziltch experience on a horn.

My great granddaughter might not know that about me. So I might could have convinced her.

I like this better.

When I started blogging, no one knew. But even then I wrote to an audience. Because I have one.

Then, when I found out I had an audience, I started writing to them. I got called out on it-- that my feelings were my feelings and should be kept to myself or in a private journal. My parents warned me of all the creepy people out there and to be careful about what I write. They said if I was going to put my thoughts out there, I should be prepared for the response. Whatever it was.

So I closed down shop. Outta here. I've never been one to hurt feelings and take names. So when a feeling got hurt, I decided it wasn't worth all of this. I learned then the huge lesson that if I'm going to say something here I sure better be living it out there. Because to get called on the discrepancy is humiliating.

And humbling beyond belief.

I soon decided that while the privacy thing should be a concern of mine and while there are some things I should keep to myself, this is a creative outlet I just don't want to give up. And what I believe, Who I believe? I can't really give that up either. Don't want to.

It was true that I had lost sight of the goal in setting this place up-- giving it back to God.

A place to analyze. To laugh at life and cry at life. To be. And to be certain that He can handle it. He can and does capture me. By all of this I have around me, in spite of all of this.

Consequently, I do have a journal.

And I no longer talk to my non-existent great granddaughter in it ;) (read: I never actually addressed a great granddaughter)

So there's that.

But then there is this.

And it's a tricky thing, having a blog (I said that already, I know).

Because sometimes it feels selfish. Why should you care what I have to say? Why should I take the time to sit and write about me?

Then again, it's one of the greatest avenues God has ever taken to show me that it's just simply not about me. Not this life, not these experiences, not this blog.

I'm glad you're here reading, whoever you are.

Let me introduce myself formally (not so much).

My name is Sadie.

I am no longer almost 20 as my sidebar reads. I'm just too lazy to change it.

I am a person more inclined to laziness than so much productivity. That's not so good.

I am a person more flexible than so much bent on details. The world needs a mix of the two. But for me, the flexibility has worked out well.

I am a sensitive person. I don't like to hurt feelings, I don't like to feel like I've hurt a feeling.

I somehow ended up 1000 miles from home at a school I never knew existed until less than a year before I packed up my life and moved.

I have never been in a serious relationship. That is a lie. I take them all pretty seriously. But the boyfriend thing hasn't quite presented itself.

I am somewhat unique, I suppose, because the former doesn't much bother me.

I have had two jobs in my life. Babysitting and Tropical Smoothie. Both of which I love.

I have a family that I adore.

I have far better friends than I could have imagined for myself.

I live in an apartment bigger than what half of the world's population will ever know. And still I often laugh it off as college housing, dreaming for the day I have bigger and better this and that.

I know am incredibly privileged to even know to dream of bigger and better.

I ask God regularly to take that privilege and work with it. I know the privilege is fleeting. And I often feel burdened by and guilty for it.

I am becoming more and more convinced that God's big is much bigger than my big and that his good is much better than my good. It's not always a pretty process, because I am not a delicate crier. I get all blotchy and red.

I like a sharpie pen.

I have an intense amount of American flags in my repertoire.

I love dusk.

I have this blog.

But it is not all about me.

And so, if you can learn anything from little me, I'm sure I could maybe (or, you know, a lot) benefit from knowing you.

It's not about me wanting to build up some comments. I have my audience. He has been here since the beginning of this blog and He'll be around way after (even circa when my granddaughter reads this, if that happens).

I just genuinely want to know who you are. Because you spend way too much time getting to know me. And I hardly even know you. That doesn't seem quite right.

On this post, if you are reading, would you do a few "I ..."s? Even if it's just your name.

I would love it.

A good bit of my introduction began with "I am..." Perhaps yours will, too. But here is why I am here.

Not because I am anything, but because He is.

Jesus introduced himself as the "I am."

He was the much anticipated I am.

Not the I am (dot)(dot)(dot).

The I Am. Period.

He just doesn't need adjectives. Or a ridiculous amount of words like I end up using.

Pick a word. He knows it.

There are some terrible words out there.

I am... abused.

I am... scarred.

I am... scared.

I am... depressed.

I am... hurt.

I am... struggling.

He knows it. And He has conquered it. He is. Period.

Whatever you are, whatever I am.

He is.

There is no shame there. There is no fear.

Wouldn't that be good to know? No shame or fear?

Yeah, it would be good. For me, that would be awesome. And I don't know it in full yet.

But He does.

So it's just not about who I am.

And in the end, it's not about who you are. Still, I sure would like to know who you are. Meet you in the comments?

K, great.