28 December 2012

LIFE lessons//2012

my mantra of “with all my heart” faded in and out of my year.  I struggled to remember it at times, I struggled to live it a lot.  but I always longed for it.  i wanted it.  i wanted to do life with my whole heart, no matter what I was doing.  even when it was making a latte for a rude customer, or cleaning up another puppy accident, fulfilling another bridesmaid duty, being a patient teacher, loving when it seemed impossible, trying to meet that writing deadline, or waiting….enduring this seemingly forever waiting, i wanted to do it with the best of me, all of me.  i remember countless mornings sitting with my prayer partner at school, saying “pray for me to find balance. I want to do all of it with my whole heart. that was my prayer and the cry of my heart this year. though i was tired a lot and grumpy a lot.  i was worried much of the time and often felt sad.  in the same vein, I was happy a lot and I was beyond blessed to find what I had been praying, hoping for, and dreaming of for so long, well, to finally be doing it.  this year I became a teacher and from that experience i've learned that...
becoming a teacher does not look the way I though it would. that does not negate any gratitude and joy that i feel in doing it though. No matter what, I am thankful to be doing what I'm doing.  

a lot of this year was spent learning time and time again, through a multitude of situations, and a culmination of chaos and calm, that i cannot, no matter how hard i try, scheme, attempt, hope, pray, practice, or whatever, i can never ever be perfect.  it'll probably take a lifetime before i finally truly accept that.  the beauty in that battle of perfectionism, is that i find when i falter, or mess up, there is always a fresh start right around the corner. i can always begin again.

"adventures" and "experiences" are the best parts of life...a road trip, those endless drives to l.a. for this thing or another, going on another first date, seeing the band you madly love, sharing the truest parts of yourself with someone else, enjoying laughter, being in the moment, letting go, waiting, praying, sitting on the beach, walking alone, all of it, all of these things hold their own special joy and sorrow.  joy and sorrow can be held together.  and there is something special in that.  there is something special in my experiences, and i wouldn't trade any of my experiences for anyone else's or anything else.

somewhere along this year i lost the joy of reading.  reading became this chore that i didn't ever want to start.  my shelves sagged with these unopened journeys waiting to be taken, constantly calling my name, but never did i begin one in a real heartfelt way.  and finally i can say i miss it. i miss those places and people i haven't even met yet.  i miss those words i haven't yet chewed on.  i miss them, terribly.  and now i'm ready to take many journeys, and make new friends, and fall in love, with those people and places that have just been sitting there, patiently waiting for me.

about mid-june a friend of mine asked me, "how's husband search 2012 going?"  i couldn't remember what i told him to make him think that was my goal for this year.  i smiled, and shared with him the guy i was currently seeing, the guy i was trying to force myself to like, and just couldn't.  i still don't know why.  he was so very nice.  so very sweet, and yet so very dull.  nothing about him really excited me, inspired me, challenged me, or interested me.  i realized that this search for "the one" couldn't be calculated or contrived.  i can't force it.  i can't make it happen in my timing.  but i am open to it, i'm surrendered to it, i'm filled with faith about it, and i'm not trying to make it happen, i am just living my life...come what may.

creating.  this is what stirs my soul, moves my body, ignites passion, uplifts my spirit, and drives me to press on.  i love creating stories in my head, and putting pen to paper.  i see an image in my mind and putting paintbrush to canvas is just so life giving.  this urge to create connects me to the loved ones i've lost.  this nurturing spirit inside of me for the art of words and the beauty of art satisfies my soul in a way that perhaps, a person never could.  creating words that flow together, creating a mash of color that evokes a particular emotion, it satisfies me.  i worship in these outpourings of creativity.  i pray in the words.  i sing in the colors. i feel every part of it.  the movements, the honesty, the authenticity of it all gives me purpose.  thank you God, Creator, for giving us the creativity and the ability to create.

as this year comes to a close, these lessons could read like a list of gratitude.  truly it is all something i am so thankful for...a realization, a renewal, a new beginning, a refresher, and a reminder.
and all of this, every bit of it, causes me to look toward 2013 with great hope.  there's only room for growth here.

25 December 2012

Jesus & Christmas//A Red & Green Glow


I’m one of those people that loves Christmas, like really loves Christmas.  Before Thanksgiving I am listening to Christmas songs.  By Black Friday I’ve planned what Christmas show/movie I will watch when, the decorations are already down, and I am crafting my Christmas gift list.  And just a few days before Christmas, I am my truest self. Frantically trying to get all my last minute shopping. baking, and decorating done, all the while listening to Christmas music, watching Christmas specials, and obsessively checking my bank account to make sure I am still on track.

What happens to change every year is the part of Christmas that hits home for me.  Sometimes it’s a different song, or a portion of Scripture, or maybe a theme, a new recipe, or even a new movie.

Last year was special because I watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” for the first time with my mom on Christmas Eve.  I had my first taste of rum and eggnog, and I had my last Christmas with my beloved kitty.  Yesterday I found a picture of us together on Christmas morning, and I wept, thankful that it was a moment captured.

The year before, I loved the song, “This Christmas.”  My dad did too.  We were on a mission to find every version possible, determined to find the best one.  We’re still looking.  

In 2009, I started the tradition of reading “Little Women” every Christmas.  And I began awaking early before the rest of the family, curling up on the couch with a kitty, and watching Little Women, with hot coffee in hand, and the Christmas tree lit up.
The year before that, my mom and I began attending Christmas Eve services at  Journey.  I love the effort, and the unique way that church presents Christmas.  The first year this group of ladies performed a dance to “Timeless” by Kate Havnevik.  It was so beautiful.  I just remember being in awe, and to this day, I still remember each graceful move.  So much a demonstration of the grace of God shown in sending His Son to earth as a babe.

Pastor Ed always explores a different aspect of the story of the birth of Christ.  It is so non traditional, and I love it.  It opens my eyes to see the depth and the true feeling in this story.  It feels so real in the present, rather than just being a piece of history to be reviewed.

This year I am exploring new parts of Christmas.  I have been infatuated with “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.”  For some reason, this song, this year, has affected a different part of me.  As I researched the history of the song, I had no idea it was introduced by Judy Garland in the musical Meet Me in St. Louis.  I love how important the song was for the soldiers serving in WWII.  I love that this is a Christmas Song that has special meaning, amongst many Christmas Carols with an even more special meaning.

This year I am also looking at the story of the birth of Christ differently.  I am ashamed to say, that as I was teaching my International students about the story of the birth of Christ, I failed to realize an important difference between the gospel of Luke’s telling, and the gospel of Matthew’s telling, in specific regard to the difference between the shepherd's story and the magi's story.  Perhaps I had realized it at one point or another, but I found myself lumping their two stories together when truly there are vast differences.  What I found to be so amazing in this story was the faith of the magi.  The shepherds, like Mary encountered an angel, well they even encountered a multitude of angels telling them of the birth of Christ.  While the magi, trusted the guidance of a star, and traveled thousands of miles to come and meet their Savior.  Their faith moved them in a significant way.  So amazing!

Today Christmas will be simple, as it almost always is.  A day spent at home, doing simple things, enjoying simple things.  Perhaps what marks this Christmas of 2012 is a little bit of sadness.  One can't help but think of the many precious lives lost recently.  Those far away in tragedy, and the ones nearest, while less tragic, still hold their own sadness.  But in sadness we can find comfort in who we still have around us, and in the One we celebrate.  His coming to earth, incomprehensibly as man.  His coming to earth to feed the hungry and satisfy the thirsty.  He came to bring us Words and Life.  That is something joyful to celebrate today and cherish.

21 December 2012

A MUSICal History//MY CALIFORNIA

Life is often defined by music.  If I think back on the last 15 or so years of my life, each year I can remember definitively by the music I was listening to.  It has had such a profound influence on my life.  Thankfully, my tastes have changed over the years.  But that is not said to negate any goodness from the music I once loved.  If it wasn’t for Keith Sweat’s “Twisted” I would never have been able to endure my middle school crush on Maurice.  If it wasn’t for Hanson, who else would have adorned my walls in jr. high thanks to the centerfolds and pin ups from BOP magazine.  N’Sync was the topic of most of our sleepover discussions freshman year of high school.  And how else would I have endured boring Chemistry if I didn’t have which Backstreet boy would make a more suitable boyfriend to ponder.  It was always argued that Nick Carter was definitely the kind of guy you could bring home to Mom, while A.J’s piercings and tattoos might freak Dad out a little too much.

But then I grew up & so did my musical tastes.

I went through my country phase.  In a moment of devout abandon to my Christian faith I felt the need to purge my music collection entirely of any non-Christian music.  For a year I only listened to worship or Christian themed songs, intermixed with some classical pieces.  I thought God would be proud of my musical tastes.  I only wanted to listen to songs about Him.  But the truth was I missed the other stuff.  I missed the melodies of folk tunes.  I missed the instrumentality of bluegrass, I missed the poetic lyrics of love gone wrong, overcoming hardship, having a crush, dreaming about another life and land, or just a simple love song.  I began to realize that if music wasn’t polluting my mind, why couldn’t I listen to it?  So slowly but surely I began to integrate the artists that connected to my heart and soul back into my collection, and yes, even some Britney and N’Sync remain there.  I think God cares about what we think about.  It’s not so much what we listen to, as what we listen to causes us to think about.  I want to think on things that are lovely. (Philippians 4)  And that’s what I believe my music collection contributes to.

I’d like to say my music taste has become more refined over the years.  I suppose maturing does that to you.  The last four years specifically have been very defined by music.  Since 2008 I have become an avid concertgoer.  I fell in love with live music when I began going to Nickel Creek shows.  Something about the instruments, and the voices, the emotion and meaning behind the songs, really come alive when they are played live. 

And I have seen some amazing live shows.  Coldplay, Dave Matthews Band, Mumford and Sons,  The Shins, Punch Brothers, She and Him, The Swell Season, Mates of State, Joshua Radin, Greg Laswell, Ingrid Michaelson, Sara Bareilles, Lucy Schwartz, The Weepies, Mat Kearney and Bon Iver to name a few.  I feel so blessed to be able to attend shows, some of which have honestly changed my life.  I can’t help but be amazingly inspired by the creative, intense, emotion and feeling that is brought out in song.

And when I fall for a band, I fall hard.  I mean, head over heels, crazy love.  There are few bands I would include, in what I call my heart home of music.  That is a musician that somehow always seems to create music that touches the deepest parts of my heart and soul, and carries me through the good and bad.  The Beatles are probably the foundation of my heart home.  They are the first band I ever remember listening to.  They have steadily remained the music that is the most meaningful to me.

I officially met the Dave Matthews Band in college and it became a serious relationship real fast. And I've lived my dream of seeing them thrice.

When I discovered Mumford and Sons in early 2011 I knew it was going to be true love.  And it still is.  I never tire of those voices, those lyrics carrying me through deep pain, and oh my goodness, that passion.  I saw them live a month ago, and it changed me. I wept through “The Cave” and smiled through every cheeky remark, every heartfelt lyric sung, made the biting cold, the four hour drive, and sitting in the nose bleed section worth it.
and hearing these lyrics sung before my very eyes, well, it was just perfect.
The best part of music for me is defined by the place I live, the great state of California.  I haven’t always loved living here.  In fact, for such a long time I was so determined to leave.  I wanted something a little less sunny, a little less warm, a little less, well, California.  But somewhere in the last two years or so, I’ve found myself loving this place more and more.  Sunny days, ocean, mountains, forest, trees, dreams, long stretches of highway, bustling city life, to small town quaint life, famous people, to the secret homes of writers.  So soooo much culture.  Everywhere.  L.A. being just a two-hour drive away.  San Francisco, a short flight, or a long day drive…it’s all here, at my fingertips.  Sports, entertainment, literally everything, and all of it themed around song.  All of it has some sort of musical memory attached to it.

Joey Ryan’s “California” takes you on a beautiful drive through the coastal parts of Central California.  Sarah McLachlan’s “Silence” accompanies my drives across the long stretch of the Interstate 8 on gray days.  Rainy Saturday mornings, with my bedroom window cracked, and the shudders open just enough to let a little dim light in is set best to Dido’s anthems.  I find Radiohead’s “All I need” dominating my iPod on my evening walks in January.  On Valentine’s we visit Balboa Park,  peruse museums and listen toJosh Kelley’s “Special Company”.  When I am reading on my bedroom floor, Nirvana’s “Come as You Are” just feels right.  On my frequent drives to L.A. nothing is better than Coldplay’s “A Rush of Blood to the Head” & "X and Y"  A hike up cowles mountain, or a walk around the lake requires some Iron and Wine or The Beatles.  On that early morning drive to Starbucks, nothing can calm my soul more than some Vivaldi, or Chopin. And when I’m headed to the beach, driving up the I-5, the most suitable tunes are by that San Diego surfing band, Switchfoot.

Music holds such deep meaning for me.  I hope everyone can have a special connection with it or like it with something. As I am driving the long stretch of Friars to Genesse to work on comes this tune, and i think to myself:
This. Is. ABSOLUTELY. beautiful.






11 December 2012

Overcoming Perfection

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One of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott wrote, “Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor.”  I can attest to this.  Perfectionism is oppressive.  I’ve spent the majority of my life trying to be perfect…and of course, failing miserably.

I met Jesus on my bedroom floor in 1988.  I was reading a book called “My Best Friend Jesus.”  In this book was a picture of Jesus, literally holding the world in His hands. He had a tear on His cheek.  The message on the page read something to the effect of our sin makes Jesus sad, but because He loves us, He forgives us.  This message taught me two things. Jesus loved me a whole lot.  After all He died for me because He loved me so much.  And I also learned that I didn’t want to sin, because sin hurt Jesus.

Thus began my mission in life, instilled in me at a young age, to be perfect.  Perfection has taken on many different forms, from being neat and organized, to getting straight A’s, to being the peacekeeper among my family and friends, a people pleaser to the core, always trying to be the perfect…whatever role I was playing.  If I could control it, it or I had to be perfect.   

I thought I was doing my best to follow Jesus in my perfectionist aims.   The self-talk that came out of my failures to attain my perfectionist standards was pretty horrible.  Things I never would imagine saying to my worst enemy, I was telling myself constantly.  And worst of all, this soon became how I felt God saw me.  Never consciously aware of what I was putting on God, his identity in relation to me was angry, disappointed, or displeased.

I went through my teenage years perfecting my perfectionist ways.  When I graduated from high school I wanted to continue on with a Christian education, and I decided to go to a Christian college.  I began my freshman year undecided about my major, but my path quickly shifted during my first semester as I was taking Intro to Psychology.  I soon declared my major studying psychology and Biblical studies.  I was hungry to know God more and I wanted to combine these two subjects and become a marriage and family therapist that brought Biblical truth and values into relationships and families.  My college years were filled with interesting classes, great friends, weekly chapels, church, counseling ministries, leading the women’s ministry on our campus, and a special boy.  Life felt perfect, for a while anyway.

Towards the end of my senior year of college, I found myself, like any other college senior stressing and fretting about my next step.  What would I do out there in that big girl world?  I impulsively decided to apply to a masters program in counseling psychology.  To be the perfect student, a grad school education had to be my next step.  I graduated college and one month later started my master's program. 

And soon everything that felt perfect in my life came crashing down.  Two of my  grandparents, that been the heart of my prayers for years to come to know Jesus, both received cancer diagnoses, facing their last days unsure if they truly knew Jesus.  A dear friend struggling with drug addiction took his own life, I found myself forced to let go of a man I thought I would some day marry, and $25,000 and a year and a half into my grad school education, plagued with the feeling of my own imperfections, and not being good enough to become a counselor to others, I decided to drop out.   Everything that I was trying to be perfect at, I failed at, and every imperfect part of my life that I was trying to suppress imploded on me.  Life was suddenly so messy and imperfect.

My perfect dreams and my perfect plans; every perfect ambition faced their disintegration which ultimately unearthed in me such deep self-doubt and feelings of unworthiness.  It took awhile before I was finally able to admit the worst to myself and to God.  I don’t feel worthy of Your love, to be loved by myself or anyone else, I feel lost and depressed, I don’t know what to do with my life anymore.  These were big bleak issues I never thought I’d deal with.  I had no other choice but to walk in this pain.  I couldn’t force perfection on anything anymore.  But in this pain, I really began to see and know who God really was to me. He was compassionate, gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in love and faithfulness.

I began to develop an intimacy with the Lord, a companionship that was consistent.  As this relationship developed and deepened between me and my Lord, I began to learn to take my eyes off of myself and what I thought I should be, who I thought I should be with, and what I should be doing, and fix my eyes on Him more and more.  I felt as though God was leading me to remove my life of shoulds, and simply embrace Him and trust Him wholly that He would lead me in His way, free of my shoulds.  I began to ponder and pray over what my next step was.  What did I have a true affinity for?  What held the possibility of bringing purpose to my life?  I remember telling God that I wanted to be a teacher and I wanted to be a writer.  That prayer felt like an unopened bud.  For once it wasn’t about rushing into something to be relieved of feeling imperfect.  I sat with those two desires.  I held them in my hands and then I gave them over to God.

Perfectionism still steps in from time to time.  I have these certain inclinations and impulses, but more often now under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, I can catch myself.  This deep life-altering struggle with perfectionism was like a catalyst for good things, for God things in my life.  Nothing happens in my perfect way, nor my perfect timing.  But everything happens in His.

Instead of living for the goal of my own perfection, I live my life focused on the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 3:12-15 states, "I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back.  So let’s keep focused on that goal, those of us who want everything God has for us. If any of you have something else in mind, something less than total commitment, God will clear your blurred vision—you’ll see it yet! Now that we’re on the right track, let’s stay on it."

08 December 2012

remembering john lennon.


taken in NYC Central Park
the night john lennon died i wasn't even born yet.  in fact, my parents probably hadn't even considered my conception. on december 8, 1980 john lennon was murdered.  i've probably noticed this day since i was about eight years old.  something about john lennon captivated me at a young age.  he was by far the most interesting beatle.  i always wanted to listen to the songs he had lead vocals on, much to my mother's chagrin. (she's only ever been a mccartney fan!) 

despite all the controversy he stirred up, and even though i may not agree with everything he ever said and did, his amazing contribution to music history is by far one of the greatest.

i think that this article sums up the lennon memory best, as we remember him 32 years after he died.

cultivating compassion//practicing colossians 3:12 (part I)

"Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion , kindness, humility, gentleness and pati...