the point

I spend a lot of time wondering what is and is not a waste of my time, energy, and money. I somehow picked up on this belief that it’s up to me to make sure that there is “purpose” in everything I do, say, buy, and everywhere I go. But I am starting to realize more and more that while I can do my best to listen and follow, but no matter what my life has purpose.

By now you should be recognizing a slight theme in my blog posts. I struggle with finding purpose in the day to day of life. Now don’t get me wrong, I find life very enjoyable, but I still manage to stress myself out by this idea that I can’t find a greater purpose in everyday situations like changing 20 poopie diapers or watching NCIS. Fortunately for me I am dating someone who is awesome at finding purpose in everyday life. Unfortunately for me, I seem to be a slow learner at this one.

Over Easter this year I went to visit my aunt and grandma in Virginia. On Sunday morning we got up and I had some candy for breakfast (naturally) and we headed off to their church. I was wearing a new dress, one that I had bought a few weeks before and kept the tags on until that day just in case I wanted to take it back. The pastor spoke about a trip he had taken a few weeks before. I want to say that it was somewhere in Africa. Anyway, He talked about how the team he was with loaded up a truck full of food to take to a community of people living amidst the town dump (literally). Half of the group prepared the food a little ways off as the other half explored and met the people. As soon as the meal was ready all the men and boys came over excitedly ready to eat, the women did not. Upon further investigation, all of the women and girls were crowded around a few college students who were painting their nails.  The pastor said it was one of the most touching things he has ever seen.

I heard another story once about a soldier in a hospital during WWII. He had many injuries and was in a lot of pain. The nurse who was caring for him propped him up on his pillows and helped him take some medicine. As she turned to leave she asked him if their was anything else that she could do for him. He nodded and said, “Can you put on some lipstick while I watch?”

Both stories are situations where there are great needs, but the things that seemed to comfort most are the simple, beautiful things. Where food seemed most important, it took a back seat to the excitement of painted nails. The pain of many injuries was great, but the normalcy of watching makeup be applied was greater. There is something to be said about the things in life that seem extravagant. Some might have said that Bibles should have been given to those girls instead of manicures. But those girls will never forget that.

Sometimes we miss the point. We go off looking for purpose and forget all the important things around us. Because no matter where we are or what we do, we have a purpose far beyond what we see. 

everything grows towards the light

Today I was talking to someone very dear to my heart about making “bad” choices. I use “bad” loosely because I don’t like the word, I feel that it encourages shame. But for the sake of this post, I am going to use it. After I hung up the phone, I found myself making a mental list of all the bad choices I’ve made in my almost 23 years on planet earth. I was just getting to the bad choices of my 18^th year when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on my wall. This mirror is a really cheap plastic framed one that the last tenants left in my room, one I really only ever use it to make sure that my shoes go with the rest of my outfit. So you could say that up until today it was the least important of all of my mirrors. But today as I looked into the eyes staring back at me, all I saw was a blonde haired, hazel-eyed young woman wearing old running shorts and a t-shirt that badly needed to be made into a rag. I didn’t see any of my past choices or the people that may have judged me too harshly or even the hammer that I keep in my own head to come down on myself in guilt and shame. All I saw was the same face, eyes, and knobby elbows and knees that have been there all along.  And It dawned on me, not only am I the me I have always been regardless of the places I’ve passed along the way, but I think that I am a better version of that self because of what I’ve been through.

I began to wonder how many other people this is true for. How many more screw ups are there out there who look at all the different paths they have taken and come to the same realization, that those things have only made them a better version of themselves. You see, I have come to believe more and more in this idea that everything grows towards the light, including people. Some may argue that you are only growing towards the light if you are a good person right then, not ________(fill in the blank with a "bad" thing). But I am not sure if I would agree with that. I think that in every moment we are growing towards the light. Even the murderers imprisoned for life. And that is God’s great plan. No matter how hard we think we’re screwing things up, and no matter how evil other people may think that we are or how evil we may think that others are, we are all still growing towards the light in a way that is unique to us.

mailbox missionaries

“Never worry about numbers. Help one person at a time and always start with the person nearest you”

-Mother Theresa

When I think about all the people in the world in need, I either watch an episode of FRIENDS so I don’t have to think about it, or I think about it and come to the conclusion that the world is screwed.

 I am big thinker. I want an end to hunger and war and pain before lunch, and I want it in one big miracle. The problem with being a big thinker is that once you realize that you’re thinking too big you get so discouraged that you immediately lose hope in the little things, those things close to home. Those things that may matter more than we think. 

I may never go to Africa or Guatemala or Mexico. I may never go on a ‘mission trip” (as defined by the Church) in my entire life. But I want to make a difference in the lives around me, no matter how small and insignificant it may seem to my big thinking self.

Sometimes when I think about investing in other people I just get really tired. I make all sorts of excuses for myself, like, Dr. Phil is on, or someone else will probably send them a card, or the mailbox is too far away. But when I really stop to think about it, there’s no reason great enough to excuse me from encouraging and loving others especially those so close to us. When it comes to being the hands and feet of Jesus, maybe that can simply mean writing someone a card of encouragement and walking your butt to the mailbox. 

So let’s love in a real, everyday way. Let’s meet people where they are with some ice cream and a movie. Let’s sacrifice ourselves to bring others healing and love in all sorts of contexts. Let’s go where he sends us, knowing that sometimes that may simply be to the mailbox.

made up words

When I first started this blog, my father was the first person to say, “alivety is not a word, what are you doing.” You see my dad is a scholar and thus making up words is not something he quite understands. But being the weirdo creative person I am, I make up words all the time (you should try it). The word alivety, however was a word I started using during a hard time for me last year. I wanted to keep track of the moments where immense joy or “aliveness” came out of intense pain or “deadness” and so when I needed to describe it in my journal I would call it alivety.

We often see life as made up the big things like graduation, or marriage, or having a baby, or retiring. And so we go through life waiting for it to start, waiting for the next big thing.  Often I need to remind myself of the little things. I forget that my little heart is beating without my help, and that my lungs know how to work without my direction, and that no matter how hard I try not to I have to blink. I forget to be thankful for the very fact that I am alive. Sometimes the reminder is a beautiful sunset, or a warm shower after a cold day, or a stack of pancakes. 

The sad thing is that when we try and distract ourselves from the deep pains of life, we end up distracting ourselves from those deep joys as well. They don’t seem as rich or full, or maybe sometimes we don’t even see them at all. In moments when I really get this, I am discouraged. Usually it’s after spending three straight hours stalking people on Facebook or after inhaling my lunch in a record 5 seconds and realizing I didn’t taste a thing. What happened to experiencing things? What happened to allowing life to course through our veins in every moment joyful and painful?

I truly experience life in the mos unexpected situations; like break-ups, or the flu, or intense fear. At these times, I am very much aware of what is going on around me. There are so many little things piercing my heart, and so many little things soothing my soul. Many of you can relate.That morning after your heart has been broken, when you wake up and finally feel a glimpse of hope. When you’ve been sick for days and you finally feel better enough to eat some cinnamon toast. Coming to the realization that fear is just a feeling and it’s not going to kill you.

 Life at every turn is a gift. It cannot afford to be missed or rushed past.