Georgia on my Mind

We spent last week in Georgia, speaking to a Christian high school of about 250. For a first presentation it wasn’t bad, but I found it difficult to communicate. There are so many ideas that have to be shown rather than told. It was unrealistically discouraging that the students didn’t hang on every word and beg to know more. Putting myself in their shoes, I would have only remembered the flashy music slides, too. 

However, the community was exceptional. Since Axis had already spoken at the school, the administrators and teachers were extremely welcoming and encouraging. I felt very at home.

The one problem I kept coming back to was the very community I so enjoyed. There was no problem with the people; the problem was that I felt that I could not have enough of an impact as a transient speaker. Don’t get me wrong, speakers can have an incredible impact on an audience in a short amount of time. Messages can be delivered at just the right moment to change a person’s life forever. Tidbits of information or inspiration stick like coffee stains in your favorite mug, adding color to your life in a way nothing else could. There can be impact.

I just felt like the best way I could impact anyone would be through settling down and doing life with them. Settling down is a foreign concept to me, but the best moments seem to be at the very end of my stay someplace, and that’s the closest I’ve come to settling. 

But what would it mean to settle in one place? I believe in the power of sustainability, but that requires… commitment. GASP! Committing? To live somewhere? For an undetermined amount of time? Is it possible?

People do it all the time, or so I hear. It’s as common as s’mores at a camp out, and yet I can’t help but wonder if I’ve ever really been camping. One can camp without really camping, much like someone can settle without actually settling.

To settle in a place is one thing, but the most important factor is the people. Committing to a person or people is not a simple task. I cannot pick where my home is. I can’t pick a place wherein I can pull into town and know where the post office is. I can’t pick a place where I am known by name and habit. I can’t pick a place to be welcome for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter without invitation but assumption. A home is a place to belong and be known, but I fear that only comes with time and giving up a part of yourself.

Am I willing to give up a part of myself to have a home, a community, a role? Am I willing to give up the comfort and anonymity of constant travel and relocation?

Listening to the Heart

I’ve started following this great feed called Humans of New York. The photographer takes photos of passing pedestrians and asks them questions. I have always been fascinated by stories, as most people are, and this woman struck me the most thus far.

She said, “I realized that by trying to anticipate their mind, I was ignoring their heart.” How often do we listen with a desire to respond? Our first mistake is thinking we can fix things with our answers instead of our compassion. Most people just want to be heard, and in order to truly hear, we must know how to listen to people express their hearts.  

The heart is a fragile thing, but it contains so much of who we are. I would define the ‘heart’ as the expression of core emotions, hopes, and knowledge. It is the picture of who we are, and we act on it. As we tell each other stories and relay experiences, we insert pieces of ourselves. Depending on the person, we choose how much of ourselves to share. After all, not everyone is privileged to the same version of ourselves. What we choose to share says a lot about our relationships.

When my heart is breaking, I will go to people who will listen and encourage me, and I hope others see me as someone who will do the same. In that, one of the greatest challenges is knowing how to sit in silence. Silence can be heavy and carry all of our doubts into the air, or it can be warm and wrap us in a comforting emptiness.

These past couple of weeks have been full of listening moments. Life has been throwing challenges like skipping stones across my path while my friends have similarly felt the ripples. These are the times to be in constant encouragement and compassion. (Kleenex and chocolates are helpful too.)

As I finish my last week of training and begin traveling next week, my intention is to listen to the hearts of students I meet. My goal is to be the person I wish had been there for me, and that involves a lot of listening on my part. The freedom to express fears, sadness, doubts, excitements, goals, and dreams is invaluable, and I want to give it.

As I listen to others, I pour my heart out to the one who created it. The Lord is at work through any time in my life, and my prayer is that you see it too.

Leave the pastries, take the orange juice

Sometimes I feel like I live in a giant Sam’s Club, and I’m just walking the aisles sampling the pizza bites and fruit snacks. I’m guided by whim and fancy until I reach the perfect deal. No such thing exists, ladies and gentlemen. I bring a grocery list for a reason: focus. We must keep our eyes on our shopping list and proceed post-haste until we reach the checkout line.

Now, that is not to say that I am focused on the eternal checkout line, but rather I choose to acknowledge that sometimes as we pursue a goal we have to make decisions about the short-term deal in hopes of the long-term benefit.   

As a woman, one of the biggest hurdles is the emotional reaction to a beautiful bag of pastries or the explosive prices of a gallon of orange juice. I could leave without the orange juice, but if I bought the pastries, I would definitely be cheating myself.

Life is bigger than orange juice or pastries, and sometimes we need to remember the bigger picture. Personal preference has to take a backseat to our purpose on the planet. I’ve talked about Deuteronomy 6:5, and that truly is the best I can come up with at this point.

Purpose takes many forms, but there has to be a distinct orientation toward the finish line. I have often been guilty of trying to find the one purpose that will tie my entire life into a nice bow. Realistically, we only see a couple steps ahead at a time. For a planner, this is a nightmare.

Good thing God is bigger than the boogieman.

Like I said before, emotional reactions can often allow us to cheat ourselves of something better (though I must admit, pastries sound pretty good right about now). It’s all about sacrificing the comfort of now for the benefit of the future. As a twenty-something, this is hardly appealing, but I didn’t make the rules.

In Philippians, Paul says he has learned to be content in any circumstance, being filled by things beyond the physical (4:11-13). Sometimes the bravest thing to do is to give up that which you want most for the promise of something better later.