What to Do When it Doesn't Feel Like Christmas

It's never hit me as hard as it has this year. It's been happening slowly for the past couple of years, which I think it just a symptom of growing up. I fought really hard not to lose it, but Christmas just doesn't seem like Christmas recently. This year it's been even worse and I think this is for a few reasons. One, because it's been so blasted warm. Seriously, get it together Cincinnati, this is December. It should be 35 degrees and overcast, not 70 degrees and breezy. There are birds chirping in the trees. It's ungodly. But anyway, I digress. Second, I think that usually I start getting Christmasy the second it hits midnight the day after Thanksgiving. We all know that after thanksgiving is over it's time for Christmas. The problem is that the past couple years, instead of getting Christmasy, I've had to ignore everything else and buckle down for finals. Thirdly, I know how money works now. That makes everything less fun.

Usually I gradually start feeling more Christmasy; when we put up the tree, when I start listening to Christmas music, when I start wrapping presents. Even last year things at school helped. The Johnson Christmas party, Johnson boys caroling in our courtyard, class Christmas parties. But even that didn't work this year.

So what is it? Why am I suddenly lacking the fuzzy-warm-inside-Christmas-cheer feeling I'm so fond of? This is the time of year I live for; when everyone is happy and feeling generous and kind. This is the time of year when people suddenly remember the things they forgot all year long like how to value their family, how to be kind to others, how to be generous. I want this holiday. I need the time of relaxation and happiness with my family before I go back to the craziness of school. And I hate New Years so that's not going to cut it..

I think Christmas peaks when you're about seven or eight. Maybe you still believe in Santa, you get really great presents, everything still has this magical sheen surrounding it, your parents still pay for the presents you get for everyone, and you're old enough to remember it all. Then you get older, and gradually your traditions change. This is especially true for me this year, and I think this is where the lack-of-Christmas-spirit is stemming from.

My whole life we've done the same thing on Christmas. We go to the same Christmas Eve service, we go to the same Christmas party, I've read the same children Christmas books for as long as I can remember (even though I've far outgrown them), we have the exact same Christmas-morning tradition. And call me Tevye, because darn if I don't love traditions.  But this year it's different. Since my siblings are all old (relative to me) and married, we have to switch things up a bit. We're not having our Christmas until January. And I know it's not all about the presents, but the time when we open presents is a time I cherish every year. Changing it up just doesn't feel right.

I don't really know what to do about this whole situation. I know that Christmas isn't the most important thing in the world, but to me it is pretty important. I know that the real reason is about Jesus, but I want my family traditions too. Even writing this post I still don't know what to do, so I guess the title is a little deceiving because I don't have any answers.

What I realized in church last week, however, is that it doesn't matter. As much as I hate it, it doesn't matter that it doesn't feel like Christmas. Like it or not, my life isn't always going to be as peachy-keen perfect as it has been in the past. Christmas may not always be the magical time I remember it being as a child. But in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter. I kind of hate the whole "Reason for the Season" type things, but what it's right in reminding us that matters is Jesus. The birth of Jesus is the second-most important thing to ever happen in history, right behind his resurrection. If I don't get my Santa and hot chocolate and carol-singing Christmas, I have to suck it up because that's the way the world works. But I think it is still important to stop and remember the importance of the birth of Jesus; to remind yourself how absolutely insane it is that God would make himself a human; that is the "Reason for the Season" (cringe as you feel led).

I'm still going to try to make it feel like Christmas. I'm not quite ready to give up the child-like wonder at the Christmas magic. Yet when I feel sad because it isn't the same or I don't have the Christmasy feeling, I can remember why we even have Christmas, and put it into perspective.

I don't know if any of you have felt the same way, or if this helps in any way, but I hope it did.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good attitude.
Lisa

No One Will Ever Know

I wrote this poem after I heard about the San Bernardino shooting, but it could honestly apply to whichever shooting you think of first. If you haven't watched the news lately, there have been a few. I know poems can't really fix anything, but I think they can help put things in perspective and point out the harshness of the truth.  This story is a complete work of fiction, but can be reflective of any number of real stories.

(Caution: while this is not unnecessarily graphic, it does not avoid reality.)

My life is over.

One twitch of a finger and I'm gone.

Galaxies of memories, experiences, feelings,

Gone before I could scream "Mercy."

My thoughts are precious,

My experiences are unique.

Now they are wasted, buried, splattered with my blood.

No one will ever know

How sad I was that I couldn't go home for Thanksgiving. 

How unhappy I was with my grades.

No one will ever know that I let them slip

Because I was too busy writing a novel.

My sister will never know that I was going to surprise her tomorrow. 

I will never get to tell my mom about my new boyfriend.

My boyfriend will never get to know if he loved me or not.

Because my blood is painted on the wall behind me;

A Jackson Pollock depiction of my death.

As you, a man I do not know

With galaxies of your own,

Hold a gun as if it isn't the Angel of Death

And I forgot to paint lamb's blood over my door today. 

You don't know my galaxies.

I don't know yours.

You never gave me the chance to learn. 

Instead, you introduced me to your gun.

It said hello and never left me with the time to say goodbye. 

9 millimeters isn't that big.

Certainly not as big as a galaxy.

9 millimeters is small,

Until it turns on you.

Then it is a black hole. 

I'm Overwhelmed

I'm overwhelmed. 

I'm overwhelmed with things I need to be concerned about. One day it's the environment. The next it's a natural disaster. The next, poverty. The next, red Starbucks cups. There's so many things I need to have an opinion on; need to be doing something about. If I only post about Paris and not also Beirut and Lebanon, I am ignorant. I only care about western countries. I instead must be concerned about everything. I must make sure everyone else is also concerned. 

I need to be part of fixing the world, but I can't just pick one need to focus on. I cannot spend my life focusing on helping those in poverty. I need to help those in poverty AND stop global warming AND write letters to congress AND protect my rights. 

I cannot fix the world. You cannot fix the world. Facebook cannot fix the world. Indignation cannot fix the world. It's not going to happen. No matter how thin we spread ourselves trying to make everything better, it's never going to save the whole world. And in the meantime, we exhaust ourselves trying to be the saviors of the world. You wanna know why it's not working?

Because we already have a savior of the world. 

Jesus saved the world, remember? Have we forgotten that? 

"Take heart! I have overcome the world." Those are Jesus' words. I do not have to fix the world because that's not my job and I physically can't because I am human. 

Being compassionate is important. Whoever does not love their brother cannot love God. But there's nothing wrong with you if you have a hard time being concerned about certain issues. We have our strengths, and we will be most effective if we focus our efforts on what we are able to aid competently and knowledgeably. 

Don't get overwhelmed. Know that it's okay to focus your efforts on one need. And when the world seems hopeless, know that we have a savior who has overcome the world and, thank heavens, he's not subject to our human weaknesses. 

Lisa

A Study in My Own Strength (or Lack Thereof)

My past few months have been so full I don't even know where the time went. I laugh to my self about once a week when I remember how I thought I was busy last year. Throughout this semester I've noticed a pattern in things that have happened, and I think I'm beginning to get an idea of what God is trying to teach me.

Last year I got hired as the Vindicated Class's Sophomore Musical director, which this semester has meant a lot of stress. Basically everything that had the potential to go wrong has. Even things I thought couldn't possibly go wrong somehow managed to go wrong. It has felt like the whole world is working against me. One thing after another had me running down rabbit trails to fix a problem within a problem within a problem. And as September passed (the month when I was going to announce the play) and we got further into October (when we were going to hold auditions) I got more and more stressed about the time crunch since I only had two months left until the weekend the show was scheduled to run.

My breaking point was when I got the email that I had been denied the rights to the play I wanted, when I really did not have time to request a new one. If there's anything I've learned about theatre companies, it's that they don't work fast. I was in the music building when I got the email and I was honestly so overwhelmed and so stressed out that I locked myself in a practice room and cried for about forty-five minutes. I didn't know what I was going to do.

After I calmed down enough to think logically I requested a different version of the play and for the next two weeks I prayed that it would be accepted. I don't like to pray specifically for things to go my way; I don't really think that's what prayer is for. But I actually did sit down and say "God please let this request be accepted." I didn't know what other option there was.

Last Thursday I stopped into Don Mink's office to see if he had gotten any emails about the request. Instead, he offered me the limited time offer to change the dates to after spring break. I said yes practically within the millisecond. God didn't answer my prayer the way I asked him to, but he didn't leave me hanging. Immediately I almost physically felt a weight lifted off my shoulders.

As if this whole situation wasn't enough, about a week and a half ago I found out that four Asbury students were in a horrible car accident, three of whom I know. I got an odd assortment of information about it, since I wasn't on campus at the time, starting with "They were in an accident, but they're okay," followed by "Erin shattered a vertebra and Tommy's lung collapsed." Not exactly the kind of summary you want to hear.

Gradually, the situation became more clear and my understanding of "they're okay" became "they're alive." Both people in the other car died. By nothing short of a miracle from God, everyone in my friends' car lived. For a few days, everyone around me was stressed and upset about the whole situation and it was generally pretty tense. Even with all the uncertainty and apprehension about their condition, I found myself constantly thanking God that even if they weren't necessarily "okay," they're still here. Lives seem a lot more valuable when you realize how quickly they could be gone.

Between all that's been going on, the message I've been getting from God is very clearly that he is there. He is with me, he takes care of his people, his timing is better than ours, his plans are better than ours, and that I need to do what I can and then be content to wait on him and lean on his strength instead of my own.

And while I can see and appreciate the growth I am going through, I also hope my life calms down a little bit soon.

Learn to trust God,
Be grateful for what you have,
Lisa

Thoughts on a Wednesday

A couple weeks ago, someone spilled my tea on me in chapel and instead of apologizing, checked to make sure her stuff didn't get wet. Today I heard the same person complaining that multiple people bumped into her on the way to class and didn't apologize. And I began to wonder why it is so difficult for us humans to empathize with others, realizing that they are no different than we are? Why is it that I was mad at this person, who was mad at someone else, who was probably mad at someone else, instead of seeing human failures for what they are. It reminded me that maybe if we paid a little less attention to the small mistakes of others, realized the small mistakes we make ourselves, and began worrying about bigger problems, the world would become a slightly more pleasant place to live in.

Happy Wednesday.

20 Things I've Learned In College

1. First impressions are often wrong.

2. You should probably finish your reading instead of binge-watching Arrested Development.

3. Conversely, if you've gotten your homework done, totally binge-watch. It's good for the soul.

4. Usually when the professor says "This isn't something you can do the night before," they're actually right.

5. A lot of the clichéd advice you get is really valuable. (i.e. "get involved!" "get sleep!" "don't date first semester!")

6. If you haven't found the kind of friend group you're looking for, keep trying and give it time. I didn't find them until second semester was almost over.

7. God wants to teach you things.

8. In order for God to teach you things, you have to spend time with Him. Which takes effort.

9. Biology

10. Having to switch your class schedule around isn't the end of the world.

11. Be careful with your money.

12. Getting good grades requires more effort than it did in high school.

13. Grades are important, but they aren't everything (they're not going to go on your resume).

14. Freshmen, get to know the upperclassmen. Upperclassmen (or anyone who's not a freshman), get to know the freshmen. Don't make fun of them and don't write them off.

15. Wax paper is not the same as parchment paper. And wax paper should not go in the oven.

16. Coffee is your friend. It wants to help you. Embrace it.

17. Always carry gum.

18. Don't be afraid to be afraid. The end of your comfort zone is the beginning of growth.

19. Be present. You miss a lot when you aren't.

20. Give charitable judgement.

8.7.15 // 12:14 am // Something Resembling a Poem

I had plans for my night after TAG training ended.
I was going to shave my legs
And unpack my stuff
And, most important, watch Netflix.
Until a knock at my door,
And a "Hey, we're watching Zoboomafoo."
I could have stayed in my room.
I could have shaved my legs
And unpacked
And watched Netflix.
Or,
I could have watched Zoboomafoo for fifteen minutes
And ended up praying
And crying
And laughing
And laughing 'till I cried.
I could have been vulnerable
And trusted people with things
I don't usually tell.
I could have played games
And been loud
And stayed up way past my bedtime.

Sometimes it's good to remember
I can live with hairy legs for another day.
My room can wait for just one night.
Netflix will always be there for me later.
Even Zomoomafoo can wait.
Because tonight I had fellowship.
I had a band of girls who I trusted.
I had things I never dreamed God would provide me
But He did.
Because He knows my needs,
He hears my prayers,
And He doesn't allow man to be an island.

So sometimes, remember:
There are responsibilities you have to attend to,
But not tonight.
Give yourself a break,
Wait until tomorrow,
Thank God for what is in front of you
And cherish the moment while it lasts.
My night was not what I planned.
Waking up tomorrow will be hard.
But nothing,
Nothing,
Can take the happiness of this memory from me
And that is far greater
Than any chore.

Careful What You Pray For

I've spent the last week trying to come up with something to say about my week as a counselor at Emerge Junior High Camp. There's about a thousand different things that happened that I could talk about but there was one specific thing that hit me today that I really want to say.

The week was really hard, especially the first few days. I really didn't know very many people and I hadn't been to Woodland Lakes since I was in middle school, so naturally a few things have changed since then. We'd lost two family group leaders before camp even started and I therefore didn't know half of my team until the day before so it was hard to find a dynamic with no prior bonding time. I'd never led a discussion before, and suddenly there I was, in a position where I had to lead discussions. On top of all this, I was very unsure as soon as I met the campers. I didn't know how to handle them. I told my girls at the end of the week that I was really intimidated the first time I met them, and they all giggled and said "Really?!?" They couldn't believe it, but it was true.

The whole week I had to rely on God for my strength, which is something I'd never had to do; at least not that much. I was constantly asking God to use me through my weaknesses and mistakes. I felt like a failure at least half of the time. The most glaring failure as I saw it was on Wednesday night when we had interactive worship. Interactive worship was basically a collection of 6 different stations each relating to themes of the week. We traveled around as a family group to each station before heading to family time where we were given the opportunity to discuss it. It went fairly well through most of the stations, but I was started to get worn out by the end.

The very last station we went to was one of my favorite concepts. On display were assorted items made out of old broken junk. There was a chair made out of old suitcases and a lamp made of a broken clarinet, among other similar things. The point of the station was to realize that we are all broken, but God can turn us into something beautiful that can be used for his purpose. They also left piles of old things on the ground for kids to pick up a couple items and turn them into something new.

Since we were there last, the items were mostly picked over. I started telling the students about the station, but ended up mostly just reading off my paper and not asking questions to let them sort of figure out the point themselves, which I was kicking myself for. Every question I tried to ask got no response. And the whole thing really just fell completely flat. The station was set up so that two family groups could be there at once, so while all this was going on there was another family group next to us. In the awkward silence that was dragging on in our group, I could hear the other group having lots of conversation, reading bible verses and making good comments. There were literal crickets coming from our end (the station happened to be outside). I felt absolutely terrible, and led our group away from the station early.

When I was praying that God would use me through my mistakes, what I actually wanted him to do was make me stop having mistakes so everything would go smoothly and really get to the kids.  I didn't realize this was what I wanted, but it was. My intentions were pure, but my methods weren't quite right. Here's the thing; if you pray that God will use you through your mistakes, that means there will be mistakes. That wasn't something that had occurred to me, and it was none too pleasant to find out.

God may have answered my prayer. I like to think he did. I've heard that a lot of times when God uses people, they may never even find out about it. I did have good moments with my campers. Seeing them pull out notes they had taken during the sermon was always rewarding for me, especially when they had questions. Every once in a while I saw one of them step out and do something brave, which was cool to watch. The whole week was not as catastrophic as Wednesday night felt, or I probably wouldn't be missing it so much right now.

I hope that God used me in ways I don't know about. I trust that he did. But what hit me most is that God's methods are not the same as my own. His are harder and often not what I expect. But I have to trust that ultimately, his work better.

Ironic that the very thing that brought this realization on was a lesson about God using brokenness.

Lisa

Insta-condemn

There's a recent image that's been trending around the internet lately and I'm sure you all know what it is, but for the purpose of this blog the exact topic doesn't even matter. I am sad and angry at reactions to controversial news in general, on both sides of the spectrum. It doesn't matter what the news is. Whether it's a true scandal or someone's honest human mistake, the world finds out about it almost immediately and they react just as quickly.

The Vanity Fair cover of Caitlyn (formerly Bruce) Jenner's new exterior surfaced less than 24 hours ago, and already there are three different trending news stories about it on Facebook. Countless articles and blogs have been written; some heavily positive, some heavily negative, very few bridging the gap between these two. The same happened when the controversy about the Duggars arose, or that thing with Miley Cyrus at the VMAs a few years ago.  And, just like all the times before, once people expel how outraged they are (or express their support, as is happening in this case), they'll calm down, make a few tasteless memes about it, and then forget it.

However, before that happens people will put their opinions over any feelings of others in a supremely narcissistic urge to be heard and we therefore attempt to shout louder than anyone else, creating nothing more than a cacophony of voices in which none can clearly be heard. It's incredibly sad. We exploit the lives of celebrities because they are visible and seemingly untouchable and that makes them extremely easy targets for criticism. It makes it effortless to look around the log in our own eyes long enough to point and laugh at the speck in theirs.

I understand that by writing this post I am only perpetuating the exact thing I am protesting. I, too, have an opinion on the topic, and the world has taught me that I must speak it.  Our opinions have become our religion. We work harder at explaining why things are wrong than working to right them. Even less do we realize that it is not our place to right others' wrongs. Another thing to point out is how little anyone can do to change anything in a situation on this large of a scale. A few thousand voices shouting a few thousand different things at once are not going to change the mind of a single person who does not know or respect any of us. The only thing it can possibly do is hurt them.

I am not going to tell you my opinion on Caitlyn Jenner today. That is not my purpose here. My purpose is to get us to think about the kind of image we are portraying, especially as Christians who are ambassadors of Christ on earth. Would we rather be known for our faith or for our opinions? Which one of those things is going to better represent Christ?

-Lisa



"We love because He first loved us. If anyone says, 'I love God,' and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. And this commandment we have from him: whoever loves God must also love his brother." - 1 John 4:19-21

"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal."  - 1 Corinthians 13:1

A Year in Review

November-ish, 2013: While sitting in the kitchen doing homework, mom brought up the subject college (again) and I decided to attend Asbury University.

May 2014: I graduated high school.

August 12, 2014: I began New Student Orientation at Asbury.

May 7, 2015: I finished my last final of Freshman year and officially became a Sophomore.

This is the shortest possible overview of the last year or so of my life. It was probably the most change-filled year of my entire life and if you know me well, you'll know that change freaks me out. A lot. I don't even like it when my plans for the night change so moving away from home is a really big deal. 

Last semester I tried to pretend I had it together. I was figuring things out, making friends, trying not to look as dumb as I felt. Toward the end of the semester, I even felt like I was sort of getting it together and starting to feel comfortable with my new place in life. I had friends, my grades were good, and I felt a little less homesick all the time like I did in late October-early November. 

When Spring semester rolled around I had no idea how much harder things were going to become for a little while, and how much better that would eventually make my life. January was pretty rough. I was dealing with the consequences of mismanaging some of my funds, trying to figure out what made a friend a friend, and struggling to become my own person without worrying about what people thought of me. 

But as I had no other choice, I sat through the awfulness of it all and I tried to let God's will influence my life. This semester I've seen more growth in my life than all of high school put together. I have made so many wonderful new friends, and learned so much about myself. I have learned what I want in a church body, and what I want in my friends, and what I want from myself. I have learned some of the ways I work best, and what I need to do to avoid procrastination, and I'm still working on how to not let Netflix auto-load the next episode when I should be studying. 

I feel like the past nine months of being at school have been an entire lifetime, and yet also it seems like it's gone by way too fast. And next year I have so many things to look forward to that are exciting and terrifying, like being a TAG leader and directing Sophomore Musical and not being the new kid on the block anymore.

So that's my sappy overview of my first year of college. Basically I'm just really really excited I get three more years there.

Lisa

On Cultural Appropriation and Amandla Stenberg

A new video that has come to the forefront of media recently is the video Hunger Games star Amandla Stenberg did for Hype Hair Magazine called "Don't Cash Crop on my Cornrows." If you haven't seen the video yet, you can watch it here. The video speaks out about cultural appropriation that has been, if you excuse the pun, 'popping' up in pop culture recently. I realize that I am treading on shaky ground here, as cultural appropriation is not something that directly affects me, but I want to share my opinion on the topic.

First off, the definition of cultural appropriation according to Wikipedia is "the adoption of elements of one culture by members of a different cultural group, especially if the adoption is without the consent of the originating culture, and when the appropriating group has historically oppressed members of the originating culture." In simpler terms, that basically means when a group of people take things that are central to a culture and change them in ways that mock or degrade them, especially when the group adopting elements of the culture are seen as having higher privilege, or have oppressed the culture in the past. 

For example, one form of cultural appropriation that people often point to is the professional football team called the Washington Redskins. There are those who argue that using a race of people as a mascot is morally wrong, takes empathy away from American Indians who have historically been grossly mistreated, and is a form of cultural appropriation. This is something I can see the argument behind and will admit is probably appropriation.

In the "Don't Cash Crop on my Cornrows" video, Stenberg eloquently describes the evolution of how white celebrities began engaging in rap, which had previously been dominated by black celebrities since it stemmed from blues/jazz, which originally stemmed from slave songs. She talks about how white rappers like Iggy Azalea and Macklemore have become mainstream rap artists. She goes on to discuss how some white artists have begun styling their hair with cornrows and even wearing grilles in their teeth. She mentions how people like Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus have used blacks as "props" in their music videos. 

Right off the bat I want to say I do believe cultural appropriation is a thing and I do think it is a problem. I understand why Stenberg is unhappy with the amount of white celebrities who have used cornrows as a fashion statement when for people with black hair it is a way to keep it clean and untangled. I also understand why it bothers her when whites dress in styles that are known to be predominately black fashions for the sake of looking cool or edgy. 

I myself was outraged when Kylie Jenner posed for a photoshoot in what is undeniably blackface. (blackface is when white people paint their skin black for costume, usually in theatre but in recent years the definition has expanded past that. It has happened throughout history and is highly disrespectful.) I, as an incredibly privileged straight white female, do accept that cultural appropriation is real and it's terrible.

However, I do not agree with everything Stenberg has to say. It does not seem to me that the adoption of the rap genre by white artists is appropriation in any way. Not to say it couldn't be. In the early history of rhythm and blues music/rock and roll, it was incredibly hard for black artists to become popular because of the rampant racism of the 50's and people's fear that listening to music from blacks would corrupt children and teenagers. Often, white artists would cover songs written by black artists. In this era, blacks were not getting enough recognition for their music. The tides only began to turn in 1962 when black artist Ray Charles did a cover of white artist Don Gibson's song "I Can't Stop Loving You" and it reached number one on the Billboard charts. 

The problem when whites adopt black styles of music is when they take credit for it as their own and ignore the work put in by black artists. I agree that Iggy Azalea is terrible (as a rapper and as someone who participates in appropriation. See here. Also here. Oh and did I mention here.) and I think most of it is she's stealing the spotlight from black artists, while also stealing their culture.  

In my choir, we are singing a song called "Ain't No Grave Can Hold My Body Down" and it's in the style of a gospel spiritual. Many of the words are intended to be said with the accent common to slave songs. There are words spelled "cain't" or "sistuh" and that's how they are supposed to be pronounced. It is a respectful homage to old slave spirituals and the gospel style that stemmed from it. Now, the majority of this choir is made up of caucasians. There are three black girls in the choir of over 70 people. Does that mean by singing the song we are appropriating black culture? No. We are being respectful and honoring a culture that's a big part of American history.

It should be the same with rap music. White artists creating rap music should not be appropriation; in fact I don't believe it is. As long as we don't lose the history behind the genre and the respect for those who created it. As long as we don't make white rappers more famous than the black ones simply because they're white. 


So that's my long opinion that took about three days to write. I understand that this is just one opinion, but I decided to state it for the world. Because that's what the internet is for, right?

Lisa

What I Want for my Day Old Niece

Today I went to the mall to get a few new things I've been needing for a while. As I was trying them on to make sure they fit right, I looked in the mirror and noticed stretch marks that hadn't been there before and I sort of thought, "Well, the golden days are over." because it's just really easy to feel bad about your body. And then as I went to put on my pajamas, I noticed what it said on the bag they gave me at the store.

Then I started thinking about my little baby niece who has been in this world for about ten hours now. And I thought about how one day she will probably have feelings a lot like the ones I had today. I think about how loved she is already within hours of her birth by so many people, and how many people would give her the world if they had the power. Suddenly the only thing I wanted was to make sure that she would never have these kind of demeaning thoughts about herself.  I want her to never see herself as anything less than created individually by God for a wonderful purpose. 

Yet I know this is not realistic. I know that one day she will have negative thoughts about herself because everyone does. As much as we want to protect babies from the real world, it's never going to happen. So instead we have to equip them to know the truths about God so that they can interpret the world around them in a wise way.

I don't look like a model, and that's fine. Not many people do, really. And to expect that of yourself is ridiculous. What I want for this tiny baby is to grow up knowing and believing that she is created in the image of God and that whether or not her physical body fits with western culture's standard of beauty, I want her to know that who she is far outweighs what she looks like.

I can't force her to believe these things. But I hope and I pray that I can be secure in myself in order that I can be a positive role model for her. And I pray that others around her and the peers that will influence her will show her love and kindness and grace to help form her into a confident follower of Christ above all else. 

-(Excited new aunt) Lisa

Snow-Formed Unity

A normal night in the dorm. Studying is being attempted with little success. Netflix is on in the background. But tonight there's a slight air of tension. There's been rumors floating around of a heavy snowfall overnight, bringing with it the age old question: "Snow day?"

However, as Asbury students we aren't holding our breath too much. We are known for never having snow days. And yet, there's enough of a chance, just enough that we're waiting. We're refreshing our emails every once in a while just in case. 

Suddenly, screaming erupts on the hall. Either someone just got a boyfriend, or there's a snow day. Dear God please let there be a snow day. Two seconds later, I get the text. 

"AU campus closed Monday, Feb. 16. Essential employees report to work."

And now you can hear screaming coming from not only the hall, but the hall above you, and the hall below you, and the lobby. So we hang out in the hall for a while and yell "WE HAVE A SNOW DAY" whenever someone walks up. At one point, a girl falls onto her knees out of relief. 

So that's how my night went last night. Today was spent sledding, freezing my face off, watching people play ping pong in the Student Center, and watching Netflix. Then, 5:30 today another text goes out while practically the whole school is in the cafeteria.

"AU campus closed Tuesday, Feb. 17. Essential employees report to work."

I was walking outside the caf and I could hear the cheering loud and clear. 

Days like this are so much fun. There's such a sense of community the snow has brought. People are sledding down hills on lunch trays and lids from plastic tubs. Making snow angels in the courtyard while girls watch from their windows. My friend from Florida was excited because it was her first snow day ever. It's just all around fun. Everyone is in a good mood, and it's a teeny bit like heaven on earth. 

It's fun. I know it can't last forever, and I guess I don't want it to, but for two days it's pretty fantastic. It's made me feel like we've put aside some of our differences and united with this common ally of snow. 

Thanks, Asbury, for letting us have a couple days like this. 

Lisa

The Everlasting Fear of the Unknown

I had this scary thought the other day. When you're growing up, you always feel like you're very mature and you have it all together, even when adults laugh to themselves and say "okay honey" and let you feel like you're right. But I have hit this point in life where I'm starting to realize that I really don't know anything. It's like all at once I realized that I have barely any life experience, and I have so much ahead of me that it seems never-ending.

In the moment when I realized this I suddenly had so many worries; both little worries and big ones. Little ones, like am I going to be able to pull off this presentation well? Am I ever going to figure out how to use this audio equipment? Will I do well on my bio exam on Friday? How in the world do you write a resume? And then big, huge, looming worries. Like will I be able to get a job that I want? Am I going to grow to be the person I want to be? Am I going to be able to keep up with all the challenges that scare me right now, like doing taxes or making doctors appointments or an endless list of other things? Because right now they seem overwhelming and I can't possibly imagine how people deal with them on a regular basis.

So when I have these worries, and I start to freak out about them, I remind myself of that post I wrote right before I started college. I remind myself of how terrified I was then that I wouldn't make friends or that everything would be too hard. And I can remind myself that I'm figuring all that stuff out. And yeah things are still hard and terrifying but there's no point in wasting my time being scared.

I've gotten through my whole life so far. There's a pretty good chance I'm going to get through this, too. I just have to stop thinking about everything at one time and take it one day at a time.

Off to make a million check lists so I can feel really great when I finish something and get to check it off the list,
Lisa

Passion 2015: A Recap

An arena filled with 20,000 people isn't necessarily uncommon. It happens all the time at sporting events and big concerts and political rallies. What is uncommon is when every single one of the 20,000 seats in the house are filled with people who are there for no other reason than to worship and learn about Christ. And let me tell you, that's a mind-blowing experience.

I went to the Passion Conference in Atlanta, Georgia last year, and it was pretty cool. I went again this year, and it was incredible. This year's conference absolutely blew me away. There's no way I can cover all of it, but I'll get to some of the big things.

So to start out, one of the first things I realized as soon as we got to our hotel in Georgia is that I forgot my phone chord at home. But everyone has iPhones, right? Surely someone in my group would have a chord for an iPhone 5. Nope. Not a single one. Okay, well, I'd just buy a cheap charger at a gas station. Bought a charger. It didn't work. So then I thought, okay, I think I saw a charging station at the arena.

Couldn't find it.

As if God wasn't being clear enough already. It was time for me to focus on Him.

So my phone was dead for most of the weekend. And when I did finally find the charging station I only ended up with about a 40% charge, and therefore left my data off and my screen brightness down all the way unless I absolutely needed to use my phone. And so with that distraction gone, God started working.

And honestly, I have never worshipped like that in my whole life. I didn't have the chance to be distracted by the world wide web that's accessible to me on my phone and I could therefore be entirely focused on the worship, and the messages, and ultimately on God. And the one moment that sticks out in my mind is at around midnight last night, the band was playing a very intimate, acoustic set. And there was this song playing. I don't know what it's called, and I can't find it by googling the lyrics. I don't even know if it's out yet or if it was written just for this weekend. But the lyrics went like this:

"Like a bride waiting for her groom,
We'll be a church ready for you.
Every heart longing for our King
We sing
Even so come."

And the sound of people's voices wasn't blocked by loud drums or electric guitars. Our voices carried, and people sang at the top of their lungs. And I could feel the power and the passion and honestly, it felt like the roof of the arena was going to split open right then and there and Jesus was going to descend from the sky.

All day while we worshiped, I just couldn't stop myself from laughing, and then crying, and then laughing while crying because I was so incredibly overwhelmed by the love of Jesus. I was so filled with joy at being in His presence in such a powerful way that I didn't even know what else to do except sing with everything in me.

Another amazing facet of Passion this year was the community group time. Apparently this has been an integral part of Passion since the beginning, but last year for whatever reason it was left out. Let me tell you, I didn't know what I was missing.

So the community groups were decided by the color of the wristband you got at the beginning of the weekend. Mine, for instance, was red. The Red community group was the smallest, with only about 1,000 people in it. And within the community group, you ended up with groups of about 8 people that became your family group. During the community group time, you and your family group would work through questions about the message from the previous main session.

I don't know how I managed to get such an absolutely fantastic group of people. We had nine people from all over the country, with the only commonality being that we were all born in September. (We found our groups by trying to find other people with our birthdays and somehow all the September people ended up in the same spot.) And during the course of the weekend we unpacked scripture together, we talked about our own struggles, we encouraged and affirmed each other. And over the four sessions I spent with them I feel like I got to know them on a deep level. Even since we left, all of us have been texting each other almost non-stop. I'm pretty sad now, because I know the chances of me ever seeing any of them again are slim. But I am so grateful for their openness and kind hearts.

This Passion trip was changing. I learned so much. My head learned and my heart learned. And I don't think the things I learned are going away like at a lot of events like this where the "Jesus high" wears off once you're back in the real world. And I'm going to pray that I never go back to that world without Jesus.

Another thing about conferences is that you don't get much sleep. Which means now I really need sleep. Which means I am going to bed.

In humble awe,
Lisa