[ Good ] byes ~

Nighttime road trips were our rebellion senior year,

his lips poised in that semi-permanent half-smirk,

as though being reckless was not an option but a lifestyle,

his eyes caught between mine and the curving lane ahead

as we glided by familiar road signs from time to time --

But then again, what was time to us?

It was as meaningless as the glove compartment's name,

as empty as the 2 a.m. road before us.

Saginaw,

Hemlock,

Merrill,

Breckenridge,

Gone.

Or at least we'd pretend to be             gone.

Muffled music dusted the air between us,

and I nodded my head ever so slightly,

unsure of whether I was keeping time

or merely counting passing telephone poles,

the type of music I came to enjoy

because never once did I hear it as we drove.

Until whispers of "let's not go back"

began to drown out the soft sound of that music,

with "let's not go back" soon growing

into "let's not go back yet" and then giving way

to "is it really time to go back?"

Breckenridge,

Merrill,

Hemlock,

Saginaw,

Home.

Or at least we'd pretend to be            home.

Love is cool.

Last night, after I had returned from a run and was simply sitting in the family room relaxing, I saw my mom look out the window and proceed to excitedly yell to my dad, "Randy, our friends are here again!" So naturally, there I sat, thinking of who it might be, guessing that it would most assuredly be people I knew pretty well -- family friends or something of the sort. 

Yet, seconds later, in stepped two well-dressed young gentlemen who I had never seen in my entire life. I mean, I know I've been away at college for a year, but since when did my parents start hanging out with these guys? Well in actuality, they were two men of the Mormon faith who had apparently stopped by my house a couple weeks earlier on their door-to-door rounds, and my parents had invited them back to continue their discussion.

But here's the thing. I'm not writing this to tell you that I initially found it strange that my parents had befriended these fellows. I'm writing this to tell you how strange it is that I found it strange -- and how awful it is. Why must interactions such as these be out of the ordinary, strange, awkward, annoying, uncomfortable? You see, I'm not a Mormon. I am a Christian; I will openly & boldly proclaim that. But I fear that all too often we believe that any and all interactions involving people with different beliefs have to be solely founded on an attempt to convert them to our viewpoint. And while this can totally be a goal, we usually try to get there in all the wrong ways. We have this misconstrued perception that we must shove our religion down their throats, an overly eager and desperate attempt to save them. But frankly, I think we're missing the point. We're doing more losing than saving.

Because you know what? As those guys walked into my house last night, they saw the Cleveland Indians logo on my dad's sweatshirt and started talking to him about baseball. What does that have to do with anything, you ask? Well, here's what I'm getting at. They didn't step into the room and say, "Alright, let's get down to business. Only theology from here on out." NO. They talked about life; they talked about the latest happenings; they partook of an opportunity to share and enjoy and love each other -- in the simplest, humblest of ways. Most of the time, I think door-to-door missionaries (or whatever it is they might choose to call themselves) are met instead with encounters such as these: people who shut them out completely [often in cruel and/or condescending ways] and people who try to make it appear as if they're doing the right thing by inviting them in -- but are only doing this to scoff at the religion's perceived flaws and then to fiercely convert them, whatever the cost.

But neither of those really do any good. Believe it or not, if you actually sit down and talk with them as though they're real human beings, it turns out that they are, in fact, real human beings. Imagine that! This is not to say that the conversation was completely void of faith talk last night. Nah, we dug into Scripture and explored such things as the freedom in Christ offered in Galatians 5. We got comfortable with each other and were able to talk openly and ask the deeper questions without feeling weird. Plus, I think it's important to note that all the things you learn from videos in your high school world religions class are not fact. And all the things you see on tv shows like "Sister Wives" are also not fact. You glean so much more when you talk to others personally.

Far too often, we approach people of different faiths with the mindset that they are people of different faiths, not simply people. We fight battles that don't need to be fought, and in the process, lose out on opportunities to form incredible relationships that - dare I say it - are much more likely to truly affect people.

So hey, love people. Love 'em for who they are and who they're not. Love 'em for what they bring and what they don't. Love 'em for their immense capabilities and perhaps immense shortcomings. Love 'em right now, in the present, not merely in the hopes of what they might be later. Embrace opportunities to love. Because Jesus Christ would have it no other way.

Can I get an amen?

Graduation Daze

Today, my older brother James graduates from Hope College. So I thought, "Oh, here's a nice opportunity to reminisce via poetry."

So here's a prose poem for this Sunday -- an ode to my brother as he embarks on this crazy new journey, an ode to our childhood {which he made pretty sweet}, and perhaps also an ode to the simple fact that time happens. Whether we want it to or not.


Summer, 2001 ~

"James and I were at it again: a one-on-one game of Little-Tikes basketball staged in the arena that was the screened-in porch at the back of the house. With warm-ups behind us, James (who doubled as the official) blew his whistle and fumbled with the worn-off start button on his cereal box prize of a stopwatch, and the game commenced -- as well as the trash talk. Dressed in hastily scrounged-up singlets from Dad’s glory days, we shot from this spot or that, the duct-tape hash mark just behind the Kool-Aid stain marking the beloved three-point line: the “make it rain” zone, worn thin from James’s never worn-out confidence. If James felt extra ambitious, he also tried his hand at commentating, the play-by-play somehow always finding itself oddly - and heavily - in his favor: “Did someone call the police? ‘Cause the SWAT team just arrived.” “Better just call him the J-man.” “One second she was lookin’ at him, the next he was hangin’ on the rim.” We duked it out until the rim fell off from one too many Vince Carter-inspired dunks or until Mom looked out and shouted that it was not safe for me “to be thrown around like that.” Like clockwork, James then declared himself the champion, and we shoved our way back into the house to give Dad a recap. And he, setting down his work, soaked up every last word of it. In that house, basketball trumped all."

All the best to my brother & friend.

An Ode to Cheaters.

"I love cheaters."

Honestly. I really do; I love 'em with all that is in me. I forever will willingly and whole-heartedly announce that I have an undying amount of respect for people who make the decision to cheat. But perhaps I should clarify a little bit before I go on here. When I say "cheaters," I'm referring to people who cheat the system. And when I say "system," I'm referring to this crazy {and regrettably, understandable} idea that's been engrained in us for far too long that we should have the right to treat people poorly if they treat us poorly first.

Let's break it down for a second. Someone treats you in a manner that you find pretty bad. They flake out on plans that you've had in place for what seems like weeks on end. They're having a bad day so, naturally, they decide to take it out on you. They totally bash your opinions or beliefs because they don't necessarily line up with their own and freak out should you dare to chime in. They ask you how your life is going, only to have an excuse to tell you all that's going wrong in theirs. They forget you exist for weeks or months at a time and then pop back into your life at random intervals, expecting everything to be exactly the same and you to be waiting with open arms. They let you do all the work and then try to take the credit for it. They fail to speak up for you when everyone else in a group is enjoying some "jokes" at your expense. They say things without thinking that are terribly hurtful and downright insensitive. They pretend to have your best interest at heart and then gossip behind your back.

We've all dealt with one -- or perchance, all -- of these aforesaid "slip-ups." And regardless of whether we're willing to admit it or not, we've also all been the perpetrators of one -- or more likely, all -- of these little offenses. Yet, somehow, when they're done to us, they seem so much more horrendous than when we're the ones doing it. So what do we do when these things happen? Well I know what I'm usually tempted to do. It goes a little something like this: "Shoot, that little [insult]. If they can't do this one thing for me or be courteous to me this one time or stand up for me just once, then why in the heck should I be any better to them?" It makes sense, I suppose. We tend to repay goodness with goodness, so why not repay badness with badness?

Well. Here's a thought: Because {whether you believe it or not at that given moment} just like you, the person you're dealing with is very much human. They say things without thinking and act out of selfish ambition and forget about plans that you couldn't forget if you tried. And generally, it tends to suck when you're on the receiving end of such terribly human behavior.

But what if instead of getting upset and doing something irrationally rude right back to them, you simply tried to love them a little bit more? You tried your hand at cheating the system. You showed kindness when you were shown meanness; you showed interest when you were shown indifference; you showed compassion when you were shown spite. Now, as you can imagine, this is quite a bit easier said than done. But, oh, is it ever worth the difficulty and the discipline.

To love unconditionally because we've been loved unconditionally by a freakin' crazy sweet Savior, to unceasingly forgive because that same Savior gave up His life for our own forgiveness, to be a little too patient and a little too understanding and a little too empathetic and a little too merciful. Because come on now, we've all had our days, and we'd most assuredly wish to have the same done for us.

Cheating the system is pretty risky. But then again, isn't that how cheating tends to be? How does that saying go? "Cheaters always prosper?" -- Maybe that's not quite it. But hey.

Su ~ MMM ~ er

'Tis the season to crave summer, I have decided. Now I am usually one who likes the winter {for the most part}, but this winter has been a bit brutal -- and that's most assuredly an understatement. So how do I combat the mid-polar vortex blues? Well, I have this sweetly terminal condition commonly referred to as a terribly active imagination and thus, I view winter as the perfect opportunity to daydream about summer and its extensive, limitless possibilities constantly. Perhaps it's the thought of wearing actual shoes - sandals, oxfords, flimsy little things - instead of hearty boots; perhaps it's the sweet promise of being able to go outside without a coat; perhaps it's this little problem I have called "forever feeling as though I am experiencing hypothermia." Whatever the case may be, summer & its crazy allure have had me reeling and twirling and swooning and oooo-ing and ahhhh-ing lately. To be completely honest, I am severely crushing on summer, and if you're with me on this, that's totally alright; I support you.

So here's to the promise of this summer. To reading in warm fields with a pleasant overabundance of sunlight, to spending more time in water than on land, to aimless roadtrips in which the greatest fun lies in the "getting lost," to those days that are entirely too long and yet end far too soon, to burying your furrowed little face in flowers, to the weird shadows cast when sunshine peeks through trees -- their heads lost in the summer clouds, to those little picnics that you pack & eat atop hills in the middle of state parks, to the way you can lay in soft grass that's a bit too tall & stare up at the sky as it dons its breath-taking navy & white polka-dot attire at nighttime, to bike trails you've tread one too many times - and yet still can't get enough of, to questionable decisions that are worth it, to fresh air, to fresh fruit, to raw freedom, to warmth. Here's to you, summer, it's been too gosh darn long.

And also, here is some poetry about summer. Simply to set the mood, my friends.  Summer shall be a grand old affair.

"Further we drove, swiftly, sweetly, even sweatingly

Through the wangled, tangled web of that summer-fed heat.

Our sunglassed faces, underpasses and new places,

Propelling us, pushing us, even telling us

To drive and dive, see and be, dance and romance

Amidst pretty cities in our soft summer skivvies."

"Sunscreen sinks between hairs on your arm,

Giving way to a crisp cool amidst the soft burning

Of summer sun, refusing to leave its midday sky-high pedestal.

So you sit,

            you savor,

                        you let,

                                you be,

Dipping life’s toes into the water that is this summer

Of too-soon kisses, 

The summer your milk-white skin actually found itself

A hue darker, no longer countering

Your claim of a love for being outside in July --

At least, not entirely. 

So here’s to that. To the strangely salty mist

That just grazed your pursed, quaintly-chapped lips,

To not knowing from where it came,

& most importantly, to not caring." 

Cheers to this. & you.

All the Single Ladies

Alright, this topic has been on my heart for awhile now. More and more, I am seeing how much emphasis we, as ladies, place on having a significant other, on acquiring that dream boyfriend, on building that magical world of love and endless happiness. Ah, the beautiful fantasy of it all. And I'm not condemning that in the least bit. Honestly, have at it. But I fear that all too often it becomes a consuming thing for us. I mean, I myself cannot be excluded from this. After all, there I was, thinking, "Wow, it's kind of disgusting how desperate some people are," and then I realized that the same thing was becoming true within my own life. Now, I will openly say that I have never had a boyfriend. How sad is that, right? I should be given the rights to the title of "most desperate of them all" if we're being realistic here.

But it's really not that sad. You see, it definitely could be. I could sit and sulk over the fact that I've never experienced that sort of love or that sort of relationship. I could wallow in the ever-popular "woe-is-me." I could be a bitter love-Scrooge. And I'll admit that I was for a time. It's so unbelievably easy to fall into this trap. You know, you see a couple on the street and you literally gag in your mouth because PDA would be more accurately named PDG. Public display of grossness. You are forever wondering what everyone else has that you don't. And then you even begin to entertain the thought of lowering your standards to the lowest of the low, just to avoid the forever-dreaded spinster fate. Wow, that is seriously a lot to take in.

Chances are, you've had some of these thoughts or worries or anxieties. And trust me, it's okay. It's normal. It's human. But just because it's human doesn't mean we should give it free reign on our lives. Yeah, falling in love & all that jazz is grand. But it's not our sole purpose for being on this earth. Thank the Lord it isn't. Believe it or not, it's possible to live a euphoric, fulfilled life without perpetually having a man by your side. Wait, that was super harsh. I'm not anti-men, seriously. They're awesome. But I think we let them control our lives a bit too much. It's not necessarily their fault most of the time. Oftentimes, it's the result of our own obsessive or insecure behaviors.

Yet, it's so easy to conform to this method of seeking satisfaction from romantic relationships, of finally finding someone you can see yourself being with. Gosh, I remember the days when texting conversations could literally make or break my night. If the person doesn't respond in the way you would like or doesn't respond at all for that matter, it's not a fun thing. And it's our natural inclination to go, "Shoot. What have I done? He hates me; I just know it. I'm a good-for-nothing loser. Bring on the empty house & the infinite amount of cats." Perhaps for some, it's not quite this extreme. But admit it, there's been at least one point in your life where your happiness for that day rested entirely in the hands of some guy. And for awhile, I guess that can be fun. But we end up falling into this routine, often without even noticing. We are at our best when the relationship is at its best. But when the relationship struggles, it's safe to say we'll be out of commission for at least a day or so.

However, this is absolutely no way to live. We're putting our faith in all the wrong things here. We're resting our hopes on finite, earthly love, that whether we choose to believe it or not, will fail us at some point or another. But the love of our Father God does no such thing. His love is satisfying and prevailing and worthwhile and ceaseless and beyond all bounds and outside the realm of human reason. And let me tell you, I have never been so blessed to experience something that I don't understand. What a joy it is to know for a fact that the perfect love of Jesus Christ drives out all fear, all worries, all anxieties. Yes, even the great uncertainty that surrounds the human love of this world. He is bigger than that; He is better than that; He is greater than that; He is truer than that; He is more majestic and fulfilling and consuming than that. If you let Him be.

I am in no way proclaiming that I am against or above all things love. Nah, not at all. Love can be an incredibly wonderful thing. I see examples of that each and every day, whether it's through the selfless love my parents have for one another or through seeing couples bridge the distance that college has created. Yes; it's most definitely an extraordinary gift that we, as humans, have been given. But we mustn't forget the greatest love story of all time in the process. To know you are crazily and endlessly and recklessly loved by your Savior is the most exquisite realization this world has to offer. A perfect Savior. A perfect love. The kind that drives out every last bit of fear.

I don't know about you, but for now, that is surely enough for me. He's got my future under control. If falling in love is a part of it, then so be it. If it's not, then so be it. In Him, in Him alone, I am completely, entirely, fully, unmitigatedly satisfied.

Two Weeks Notice

On December 2 of this year, my older sister Kari, the straight-up gem in this photo above, will be returning from Rwanda for the first time since September 12, 2011. Let's put that into perspective here. When she left, I had just begun my junior year of high school, and now I am halfway through my freshman year of college, and wow, that's just so strange for me to contemplate. You see, she became a member of the Peace Corps in the fall following her graduation from college and has been teaching at an all-girls Catholic boarding school in the small African country of Rwanda for the past two years. Her time there has most assuredly been far from easy or comfortable, and she has been exposed to countless crazy and eye-opening cultural experiences. Yet, through it all, she has developed a myriad of relationships and connections, some of which will certainly be lifelong. That's the thing about my sister: she can be thrown into almost any situation - in almost any place on this vast earth - and she learns how to thrive. She just goes with it. It's an undeniably difficult feat, but time and time again, Kari manages to bring life to places which very few would even venture to in the first place.

And just two short weeks from today, for the first time in twenty-seven months, I will be able to see my sister face to face. And to say I am stoked beyond belief would be the understatement of the century. I mean, it's such an inconceivable thing to me, so much so that I almost cannot bear to stop talking about it. So, my apologies to the cashier at the store who heard a brief synopsis of Kari's Rwandan life as I was checking out my groceries and to Rosemary the lunch lady for holding up the line while I was rambling on about my excitement and to the kid at the gym this morning who was probably trying to concentrate on his workout. But wait, I'm not actually sorry. For in just fourteen days, one of my best friends and one of my most faithful and constant life examples will be home. Gosh, is God ever good or is God ever good? 

But all of this got me thinking. What an absolute treasure loved ones are! They're seriously so great. But how often do we treat them in the exact opposite manner, as though they're a fact of life and nothing more, as though they're not worth the added effort because they'll just always be around? Come on, we all do it. But as of late, this mentality has become so utterly gross to me. Because it doesn't have to be this way and shouldn't be this way. We should be so lost in gratitude and compassion for our loved ones - and human beings in general - that it becomes second nature to cherish and savor every glorious moment that we have with them. And what better time to instill this habit than around Thanksgiving?

Yes indeed. Be thankful. Be thankful for family. Be thankful for friends. Be thankful for each and every beautiful person who touches your life. And quit being bored and expectant. Every encounter with those you love should be a precious gift, whether you've been apart for two hours or two years. Be forever eager to love on these people. Love them with all of your might.

P.S. Shout out to my sister Kari. It's the first time in my life that my countdown to Christmas has been my second most important countdown. Can't wait to embrace you and your radiant soul soon.