twenty two candles

Today is the day that I am now "in my twenties." Man, time flies. I still remember fighting my mom in the fifth grade because I didn't think it was appropriate to wear anything less than a dress or skirt to school.  Welcome to my life.  Last night I had the absolute joy of sitting around a picnic table with my small group discussing our final thoughts on the semester, and how much we'd grown.  Not only did we grow individually, but we grew as a group.  As we grew closer to each other, we were nearing the heart of God with our passion for our relationships.  Our small group met ever Tuesday at 8:15 at my apartment.  It was warm and sunny last night, so we all took a field trip outside to end our semester.  Knoxville stays light until about 8:30 in the summer.  Needless to say, about fifteen minutes in, our flashlight apps on our phones became very handy.  Since last night was the day before my birthday, Magan brought a cookie cake.  When she lit the candles, all of the sudden we could truly see each others faces.  As women, relational reflections of the heart of God, we should always be willing to shed our light on others.  Because it truly helps us to see them, who they really are. When we're willing to share our light, that's when we can truly appreciate and love the people around us.  Each of those girls was willing to open up every week and share their light and heart, and that's when we really saw each other.  I heard a quote once about how love isn't finding a relationship or friendship that's perfect, it's about seeing how perfect they are in their imperfections.  None of us were perfect.  We all had wounds.  We all had a story.  But when we were willing to shine our light for others to see, that's when we started to understand and see each other more perfectly.  How much would the cadyness and competition among women to be perfect change if we were willing to be a light for each other?  If we were willing to say, "Hey, I'm not perfect. But I have a God that loves me anyways, and you do, too," how much would we truly start to appreciate the people God made perfect only in imperfections for His purpose?  Those candles, and those girls may be the best birthday present I've ever had. My "starfish".  ;)

banquets

As a member of a sorority, I attend banquets, frequently.  This weekend I attended two.  All the girls get dressed up, and boys put on a suit and tie, and we all sit around a table on our best manners.  There's usually some sort of program on the table that tells you what is about to happen during your meal, and people will stand at a podium, and talk about whatever it is you've gathered for.  I remember at a recent banquet I made the mistake of pouring my caramel dessert dip on to my plate, and dipping my brownie in it  with my fingers.  Unmannerly to the max, but I was being myself at the banquet amidst the attempts to act like we all had attended etiquette schools our entire lives.  I attended my last banquet for my sorority last night.  It was a recognition of the seniors.  I felt to weird, because my sorority career was all coming to an end, and I was oddly okay with it.  I watched the other seniors cry, and reminisce on the past four years.  Don't get me wrong; I will miss it.  I will miss constantly having companionship, J. Crew clothes, and banquets, but I had a realization when a non-Greek friend asked me how I felt about it all now that I was looking back on it. Here is my answer:  I'm thankful for my Greek experience.  It made me strong.  It tested my faith and values.  It gave me a deep trust in the plans the Lord has set before me.  It gave me an even deeper trust in following His Word and laws, because if I stay in His arms despite when conforming to the world seems like it would be the most comforting, I will be provided for.  So, it felt weird to be okay with it, because I didn't think I would be, but now I feel like it is my time to leave.  I learned more about myself and who I am than I ever have before.  I'm thankful for all I learned, but it wasn't always me.  I'm sure all of us have felt like that at some point in our lives with something; like we're sitting at a banquet dunking our brownie in caramel sauce against the manners of what the world would tell us is right.  I will cherish and love every person I've met along the way, but above all, walking out of that banquet I realized my most important lesson: it wasn't who I was; but it taught me even more about whose I am.

puppies

I want a puppy so bad, it's honestly an issue.  Every time I see a dog, I get so excited. I want a Husky. His name will be Ray.  I have to wait until I have a yard, because I'm pretty sure Ray wouldn't enjoy living in a college apartment, and my roommates wouldn't enjoy Ray taking up the couch.

I was sitting at an intramural softball game last night, and my friend Lauren brought her puppy, Lexi.  Lexi loves people, and loves to explore.  Jordan made a comment that what would the world be like if people loved each other like dogs love people? I got to thinking.  Dogs get so excited to see a person.  They genuinely enjoy their companionship.  Even if they don't know them, or are uncomfortable with them, they're willing to explore.  What would the world be like if we, as God's people, loved each other as dogs loved people? What if we were that excited about companionship? What if even when we were uncomfortable or weren't sure about someone, we still were willing to explore who they were? What if there was something so inviting about us that when people saw us, they wanted to be around us?  I see puppies and think, "Wow, they've got the life. Eat, sleep, and play." But now I don't wish to live the life of a puppy, I pray that the Lord gives me an inviting and contagious attitude.