A New Year

Happy 2013!

I rang in the New Year with my high school gal pals at Young Life’s Crooked Creek Ranch. We danced the night away and toasted with apple cider and stayed up way too late. It was perfect. I tend to think that New Year’s Eve is overrated. Every year, part of me wants to go out and drink champagne in a sparkly dress, but what usually ends up happening is me sitting on the couch in stretchy pants watching the ball drop in every time zone, wondering how Ryan Seacrest still has a job.

When I think about a new year though, I like the idea of it. A clean slate. New beginnings. Hope and opportunity. But so far, I haven’t been able to look past the anxiousness that seems wedged in my heart in order to get to the good stuff. So I have been praying a Psalm over and over again. Because I know that God is the only one who can give divine comfort, but I tend to forget His promise most of the time.

 “When I said, ‘My foot is slipping,’ your unfailing love, Lord, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me JOY.” Psalm 94:18-19

 I want to cling to this promise. To hug it tightly and hold it close to me. Thankful that He gives me a fresh start not just every year, but all of the time.

bookworm

When I was younger, I never really enjoyed reading. I read for school, and I read for those library contests in the summer, but mostly just because I got a trophy. Growing up, the rest of my family loved to read. Austin went through books at lightning speed, and my parents always read before bed. We would go on family vacations and at night, after we had gone to dinner, everyone would read, and I wouldn’t know what to do with myself, but I knew I didn’t want to read. At some point in high school, I found a love for reading on my own, which is really the only way it can be found I think. To me, reading is one of those things you cannot force on anyone. It is always their choice, and growing up and being told in school what you need to read turns a lot of people off. But now, I cannot imagine life without books. They bring me so much joy and have so much wisdom to give. They remind me of who I am or really who I can be. This winter break (don’t have a real winter break but humor me here), I cannot wait to sit by the fire and get lost in a good book. Here’s what’s on my list to read or re-read this Christmas season: Help Thanks Wow by Anne Lamott, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Still by Lauren F Winner. And I. can’t. wait.

“For some of us, books are as important as almost anything else on earth. What a miracle it is that out of these small, flat, rigid squares of paper unfolds world after world after world, worlds that sing to you, comfort and quiet or excite you. Books help us understand who we are and how we are to behave. They show us what community and friendship mean; they show us how to live and die.” – Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

create.

Today in magazine writing class, my teacher talked about creativity. And for the first time in a couple of weeks, I was actually paying attention. Senioritis okay- chill. I hadn't gotten the kind of grades I had wanted on my last few assignments, and I began to think that maybe I just was not cut out to write or that I was wasting my time. Granted, one was a restaurant review, and unfortunately, no one cares about how the kid's chicken fingers taste. But today's lesson reminded me of exactly why I write, and why you probably write too.



Creativity comes in different forms for each person- for some it is music or dancing, and for others it may be painting or building. The thing about creativity is that is universal. Creativity has no limit on age, gender, religion or physical condition.



After all, God is a creator. And in some pathetic and tiny way, when I create, I know that it is important to Him. For me, it is writing. Though I do enjoy a good needlepoint.

When I actually sit and write something down, I learn and discover things about myself and the world around me. It can be ugly and messy, but if I linger there long enough, I can usually find the goodness too. Reminding me that when I wander, it might just be worthwhile. And that freedom can be found in writing the truth.

Anne Lamott says to write what you know. I think she is a pretty smart lady and despite the fact that she is about 50 years old and has dreads, I think I will take her advice.

tunes

I would like to apologize for my short (long) leave of abscence. What can I say- October, November, December, January and February were boring?

I have always loved music, and I have had impeccable taste from the beginning. My very first CD was Leanne Rimes- the 14 year old who looked 40 on her album cover. But I listened to "You Light Up My Life" and "Bridge Over Troubled Water" on repeat because they are just like the cover specifcally notes- inspirational. And let's face it, I was inspired.



See what I mean? On another note, please notice her left hand. We just won't go there.

Let's rewind a few years...

At the ripe age of 9, I bought my first two cassette tapes. I was with the family at Wharehouse Music- THE hot spot to buy all of the latest tunes in the thriving metropolis that is Sugar Land, Texas. Sadly, it is closed now thanks to Napster, Kazaa, Itunes, ect.

I had a gift card from my birthday so I took some time perusing the store. I ended up being drawn to an NYSNC tape. My best friend Autumn talked about them and told me they were all the rage. I had to have it. "Space Cowboy" really is a work of art. JC Chasez quickly became my favorite. I would read fun facts about him-for instance, he hates shots. Fascinating. I was always pretty pleased with myself that Justin Timberlake was not my favorite because he was everyone's favorite. Some of my friends liked Lance Bass, but thankfully I didn't jump on that train. NSYNC was always and will always be better than the Backstreet Boys. There was no competition- NSYNC danced while they sang and the Backstreet Boys sat on stools. The reasoning is simple. Get off your rear ends and move around BB.



JC is in the middle.

The next 15 minutes, I walked around the store deciding how to spend the rest of my money. Deana Carter caught my eye. She was sitting in a field of flowers and looked pretty pleased with herself. I popped the headphones in and listened to her stuff. This girl was GOOD. I could not wait to listen to Deana in my lime green boom box.



At school the next day, I casually mentioned my new cassette tapes to my friends. One of my classmates, Marshall, said his 15 year old sister loves Deana Carter (score). My favorite song was Strawberry Wine. I liked it because it talked about strawberries and about 17 year olds. So sophisticated.

In middle school, I came to find out my childhood had been a lie. My precious, innocent Deana Carter was not so innocent. Her Strawberry Wine song was about losing her virginity. I was appalled that this blonde, wildflower loving woman would sing about such things.

I ended up forgiving her by high school.

I miss Wharehouse Music, Deana and JC...not really LeAnn though.

Fallin'

Happy October!

I hope you are wearing scarfs and boots and drinking hot chai tea lattes. Even though it may only be 60 degrees, live a little and throw on a cardy. Usually not a big fan of colder weather myself, I was pretty much begging for it this year. When I visited my friend Mollie in Portland, Oregon before the semester started, I kept telling her how lucky she was to live in a place where she could breathe. Living in Texas all summer was like a never ending sauna that wasn't there just after you worked out, but all of the time, even when the stars were out. When I got to Portland, I let out a long breath that I think I had been holding for two months.

When I think of fall, I think of Boston. It is the only place I have traveled to in the fall where the leaves actually change colors and there are fruit stands and regattas. See proof of leaves here:




Fall at Baylor is one of my favorite times. The football, the homecoming, the weather, the pumpkins, the thanksgiving, the pigskin. And even though I always expect the seasons to change, it is still refreshing when they actually do because it reminds me that I can change too. That God can change me. He can help me to trust more and stress less and to stop talking so much and just listen sometimes.

So fa-la-la-la-la. Happy that fall has come because it has brought along a lot of goodness with it- like this new Coldplay video. Thankful for the little "paradise" that is Baylor.

tangible

via

"That's what friendship looks like to me. Friendship is acting out God's love for people in tangible ways. We were made to represent the love of God in each other's lives, so that each person we walk through life with has a more profound sense of God's love for them. Friendship is an oppurtunity to act on God's behalf in the lives of the people that we're close to, reminding each other who God is. When we do the hard, intimate work of friendship, we bring a little more of the divine into daily life. We get to remind one another about the bigger, more beautiful picture that we can't always see from where we are."

-Shauna Niequist

old people.

I love my grandparents. Though I miss my Shirley Nanny lots, I am lucky to have three grandparents still living AND a Jonita. What's a Jonita? Well, shes the fun-loving step-grandma who loves cats, wrapping presents and winning games. This can be tough since Papa rules at all games, and when we play spades he knows what card everyone has played and what cards they have left. It hurts my head to think about all of that. When Papa and Jonita were dating, if its called that when you are old (maybe courting?), Papa came down to Houston to stay with us. One night I couldn't find him, and I realized he was sitting in the hot tub talking to Jonita on the phone. I about died. I have never even talked to a boy from the hot tub. Would you be able to even hear with the bubbles? Would HE be able to hear with all the bubbles? Let's just assume he didn't have the bubbles on because he can't really hear me when I am about a foot away and yelling. Papa, if you are reading this, I think you are really good at poker, golf and snow skiing, and I am sorry for the previous hearing comments.

The thing about grandparents is that they are different from your parents. Wise words right? What I am trying to say is that while the word "parent" is in their name, they are a different breed of parent than your parents. They may not know that you stink at cleaning your room or that your favorite show is So You Think You Can Dance, because they aren't always around. Maybe your grandparents live far away and you don't get to see them much or maybe it's the other way around and you see them all the time. Like the kind of grandparents who were always at your volleyball games or choir concerts growing up. Either way, the role that they can take is pretty incredible. And for me, these people are pretty crucial in my life.

My dad's dad, Paw paw, is about as good as it gets. He loves to eat, and at most meals, even fancy ones, he tucks his napkin into his shirt, or jumpsuit. People laugh, I laugh, but he is just being careful y'all. Every Christmas, the kids switch off reading the Christmas story. One time, he skipped over my cousin Hayley when she was about 10, because he didn't think she could read yet. Hayley was offended, but I thought it was funny. He usually sits at the head of the table and talks to his grandchildren. The next year, he likes to see if we remember what he talked about, and I usually spit out the word reputation. Because that is what it's usually about. He cares a lot. Mostly he cares about if we are following Jesus, which is the best thing to care about. He still practices law and wonders why I ever switched my major from accounting. He wrote down the accounting equation for me at my cousin's graduation party, and even still, he asks if I switched back to accounting. I think I confused him when I got an internship at an accounting firm. I think I confused myself.

Lee Nanny is paw paw's sweetheart. She loves the Cowboys and the Mavs and gets super into all the games. Dirk, if you're out there, Lottie Lee Flagg loves you. Nanny likes having girls around since she raised three boys and is also married to a boy (man). Nanny and Paw Paw had a motorhome for a long time and would take lots of trips with their friends and explore new places, always parking at Wal-Marts along the way because it is free and they have a map that shows where all of the Wal-Marts are in Texas. At 7, I was mesmerized by it. So many Wal-Mart dots everywherrrre. When they would come visit us in Houston, they would drive the motorhome and park it in our driveway. They would not even stay inside our house. Because why stay in a house when you can stay in a motorhome with a 6 foot pull out? They would wake up and eat breakfast there and then around 10 trapze into the house from their mini vacation in the driveway. Nanny pronounces the game washers- worshers and feeds her dog Fred too much food. He smells a lot and is not really liked by anyone, but her. Someones got to love to Fred I guess.

Papa is my mom's dad. He has always seemed younger than he is- besides the previously mentioned hearing issue. He still plays golf with my brother and dad, which is pretty special, and he got to go to the Players Championship this year. He sat in the chalet Austin got him and loved every minute of it, whether he was surrounded by family or sitting by himself. He loves to travel and he has about a bazillion friends. When he got re-married to Jonita, their wedding was massive. All these people that we guessed wouldn't come, traveled from all over, simply because Papa is a good friend and they wanted to be one too. Since my dad isn't quite the fix-it man, Papa always comes over to help my mom hang pictures or put up hooks, things like that. When he orders food, he sometimes takes forever to decide what he wants or says it extremely slowly like the waiter is incapable of properly listening. I'm sitting here thinking, since I was 9 I have known I wanted the cheeseburger and Dr. Pepper. Omg grandpa decide. Papa's favorite thing is poker night with his buds, and he loves the Texas Tech Raiders. Someone's got to.

Shirley Nanny is last but certainly not least. She died when I was a sophomore in high school. I still remember Mrs. Rigby coming to my chemistry classroom and pulling me out. And in the back of my mind I didn't want to think about the possibility of her death, but she brought me to my mom who worked at my high school, and we cried. Cried for my grandpa, my mom, my aunt and cried for me. I decided to stay for chapel and then go home. Taylor knew something was wrong when I walked in and I remember my friends literally bear hugging me for about 5 minutes, which was good since I was practically sobbing. They wrote me a sweet card the next day that I still have. Because Dani's handwriting is really good, but mostly because the words were heartfelt and I needed them. Her alzheimers came when I was in elementary school. It's a really mean disease that doesn't just cause you to forget things, it can change who you are and the way you act towards people. You are physically healthy, but it just isn't the same you. There were some great moments though, and I am especially thankful that I got the chance to know her both before and after alzheimers. She was so talented. The most beautiful calligrapher I've known. And now I still have some things with her calligraphy on them that I treasure. I miss her, but I am grateful I got to know her. That I have will always have the memory of her with me. The memory of singing "There will be no more night" at her funeral between tears and a runny nose and a sad heart. Realizing that God's glory can be shown even in death.

All this to say, I love my grandparents. Even like them. It is from them that I have witnessesd the importance of patience and selflessness, because most of the time they aren't the center of attention and they don't mind when things don't go as quickly. And when I listen to the John Mayer song "stop this train," I want to disagree, but deep down I want the train to stop because I really like where I am and would like to stay 21 forever. But then I listen to the end of the song, and I remember that age can be beautiful. That though this world doesn't quite glorify age, it is much more than wrinkles and grandchildren. That there is always more to learn and to teach, more love to be given and had and for certain, more life to be lived. Time goes on. We get older. Jesus stays the same. We get to know him better day by day. And life gets even sweeter.