By My Side

Project-oriented.

A new word I have recently found to describe myself.

How? I like to fix things and to get things from start to finish. That includes school projects, situations in other people's lives, other people themselves and my own spiritual life.

Yup.

Doesn't work so well with those things that refuse fixing. Things that undulate up and down and never seem to hold a steady place because, I need to face it, humankind is humankind.

We have our up days, we have our down days, we even have our inside-out days.

And when it comes to my spiritual life, I wish that I could go from area to area, or spiritual fruit to spiritual fruit, work on one until it comes to fruition and then move on to another.

But I find that as soon as I try to do that, I look back and see that the area I just left has already fallen into dis-array.

I'm not perfect.

You don't say.

And being home has had it's ups and downs as well. One one side, I'd say that I adjusted to being home the best out of any break so far. I feel as if I'm back in the home groove once more. One the other hand, the struggle of bringing Millar habits and integrating them into my home life.

I fail. I fall.

And I beat myself up until I remember.... it's not about me.

If I was enough to make myself perfect, there was no reason for Him to come. I am striving to earn grace, and that doesn't work. So as I listen to words of truth, I bask in the knowledge that I am not enough, but that He is. And He is always by my side.

In Rainy Day Blessings

1. Rain:
I love the sound of rain on a tin roof. Although the roof here doesn't quite compare, it's a sound that reminds me of nights spent warm and swaddled up in my sheets in Cameroon, while thunder and lightning rages outside. It almost makes me want to stick out my tongue out in defiance to the outside elements because no matter how much it rains and thunders, I'm safe and snug. Rain rocks me to sleep, and reminds me of how safe and secure I am.

2. My Boo:
The door creaked open at around 9:15 this morning, and even though I couldn't see who it was, I knew it was her. This little one who is so much like me in so many ways, who has golden hair and blue eyes, who is only 8 years old, who devours books voraciously, who is creative and has a gift for drawing, this one that comes to snuggle. She lifted up the corner of my sheets and crawled in, snuggling her way into my little ball of warmth and slipping her ice cold feet next to my warm ones. She grabbed the bear that I had snuggled last night, and named him Freddy, and so I grabbed Mr. Ty and she play-acted with the two bears, and then we talked about the most random things until she started bouncing on me twenty minutes later, to get me up. In the midst of that, we had this conversation:
Scene: I was snuggling her as if she was my teddy bear, and she was insisting that she was anything but.

Me: Next year, I won't get to snuggle with you or have you wake me up.

Her: Yes you will!

Me: I'm going to be living in the dorms, not here at home. How are you going to wake me up?

Her: I'll drive all the way to your dorm and come wake you up.

Me: Yeah, right. (thinking: I wish!)

Followed with giggles and a tickle fight.

It's moments like this that I don't have much more time to treasure. Seeing her grow up and realize all that she has been created to be, and grow closer to the God who created her to be such is a privilege that I won't possess for much longer. This is one of the biggest things that I'll miss.

3. Free Time:
With it being a flex and having all my school assignments in (finally!), it's wonderful to have time to get things done like addressing grad invites, balancing my Excel spreadsheet money stuff (nerdy, I know), putting away laundry that's been sitting in folded piles on my floor for awhile, relaxing, doing some homework (okay, not yet, but I'm sure that's bound to happen sometime today), write blog posts, etc. It's a reprieve in the midst of what looks like it's going to be a hectic month. When my room is clean, my finances are in order, my chores are done, and everything is scheduled for one day, it makes me feel ready to face busyness. Simple blessings, given by a God who knows me inside out. Amazing!

4. Alphabet Soup:
Again, the blessing of eating together with my family, even on a non-school day. The only one gone was my Dad because he was at a meeting. Part of the meal was alphabet soup, resulting some competition to see who could find their name in their soup first. Once again, a little thing that means so much.

5. Matt Redman:
Just recently discovering this artist, but really enjoying his music. This song seems to fit this day (and this blog post!), and keeps running through my head:

Count your blessings today... there are so many.

Stretch

I've been stretched a lot recently, in many varying ways. I feel like a ball of tortilla dough being rolled to different corners in the hope that I will eventually round out.

Thursday was nerve-racking. Mix together one unprepared Band and choir, a flute that stopped functioning, a band director who was always forgetting to get me another one, having a Colombia meeting that morning and therefore feeling a little scrambled, and walaah... you have my Thursday.

Thankfully, a new flute arrived in time for me to put it together, play a few scales and perform. Yikes. There were also mistakes and glitches in performances, a crowd that giggled at the bumps and people who were new to each program.

But it happened, and getting used to having a new Band and Choir director is easier every day.

Then, English class. Mix together Hamlet, me and my friend M, a group assignment, and her choice of the operatic duet (picture: "Please?? Christy, please!!!" "Fine...."), minor preparation, a CD that was burned with the theme song to the Phantom of the Opera only minutes prior to class, dressing up, and not being able to hear the music and therefore turning it into a gong show. Yes.

Next, this last Saturday. Now, I love my job, don't get me wrong. But expecting to work five hours (the most I had every worked in one stretch with her - normally it's around 3), and then getting it changed to around eight hours? A lot of learning. Huge learning curves, having to work through frustrations with sign languages, having a messed up nap time and bed time (my own fault) and having to detail all the mistakes I had made at the end to her parents (so they would know what was going on... she still wasn't asleep).

Humbling... all of it.

I like my plans, my agenda, my spic and span life, and the way that I think things should go. Perfectly rational, I tell myself. Until He shows up. Ohh.... that sometimes brings me to a screeching halt.

He doesn't want me to be comfortable. Never. Ever.

And I constantly fight that. At every corner, He's dragging me, fighting tooth and nail to stay where I am. But He loves me too much to let me stay where I am. I'm thankful. It hurts. I learn. I grow.

And as soon as I think it's getting easier, He throws something else on my plate. Loverly...

But I wouldn't want it any other way.

Lost and Found

It was a hard day today... full of ups and downs... valleys and mountains, with no plains in sight. It's kind of nice to be noticed... not that I'm normally not, but braces do give one some special distinction... or so it would seem. They hurt... they need to be cleaned... it took me three times as long to eat my lunch than it normally does. But the biggest dips of the day came in the last two periods. Band class. We started off with a drumline. A DRUMLINE!! Having grown up in Africa, there was no way that I would not be gyrating and moving to that beat, drumming to my heart's content. In some way, those rhythmic pulses unify people and their purposes in a way that the less knowledgeable have found out sooner than the rest of the world. The music rolled and I was enjoying it.... creating new skills, laughing at my mistakes, sitting on a high stool and not being able to tap the beat because my feet couldn't reach the floor. It felt like a long lost string in my soul was vibrating and I was just able to enjoy... enjoy as I have not for a long while. I wanted to be swept away...

Now for Part 2: Actually Playing
One of my friends had suggested earlier that it would be interesting to see how I could play the flute with braces on. I hadn't really thought about it, but it wasn't as if my mouth shape had changed, so I wasn't worried. I opened up the case, picking up the pieces and fitting them together... proud of their gleam. All put together, I lifted it to my lips and tried to play a scale. Only air... ONLY AIR? My heart plummeted and I frantically tried to do anything I could to make a sound. I rolled the flute in, made my mouth different shapes....all the while the sharp ends of the braces were hurting my teeth.

I felt stripped. So lost. So un-made.

My main forms of communication are through my writing and through music. Now one of those is gone for me... at least for awhile. I am not absorbed by the flute... it's not my life... but it's the one thing that allows me to express myself fluidly, without trying (although poetry works in a similar way). To have that ability which I took so for granted taken away from me shocked me. We played through a song, and I could only hit occasional notes, and that took a lot of effort. The conductor looked over at me and asked me if I knew which part I was playing and I nodded. Tears were starting to form in my eyes... I had been proud of my ability... never really working for what I had gotten. In the majority of the areas of my life this is true. Now all I could say was, "Braces." I wanted to rip them out, stomp them, and get back to my normal life. I felt as if I was blind, having lost something that I had never really noticed before. It's always been so natural... I've never been able to whistle, so I can't miss the memories that haven't been made. But that flute represents a part of me that was found three years ago when Mr. J came to our school. When he gave me the power to express myself, I grew new feathers, sprouted new wings. I could fly, because I was free...

Now I feel alone... and resentful. But that's wrong. No matter how much I don't like the situation... it's for some good. So I say with conviction.... I like the weather today.

Bliss

These past few days have been filled with friends. Other things, too, but friends above all things. It's in this year that I've purposed to spend time with friends and developing relationships more than homework, even though this year is the only one when homework has taken a serious hold of my life.

We met together, us, the three musketeers, dressed up all pretty and eating pizza and doing Chem homework. We sat around that kitchen table, scratching our heads, all the while celebrating the beautiful passing on of another year for one of us. We drove into C-city and went through Bio notes on the way. I think that one of the marks of true friendship is being able to laugh while doing the most boring things in the world, just enjoying being with each other. Stopping and walking above a street in a tunnel of rainbow, heels that hurt, tickets gotten, escalators (escalators!!) {what do you do with escalators? walk? ride?} done with, and sitting in seats, excitement tinging our voices. Pointing out this violin, and that flute. The massive choir that walked in. And then, the joyful sounds of Beethoven's Ode to Joy.

We laughed, we smiled, we absorbed, we mocked, we stifled giggles at the opportune (or should I say inopportune?) sneeze that made the whole performance memorable. Stopping at Timmy's on the way back and being the only customers in the entire store. Being dropped off and falling into bed, content to sleep and sleep. Waking up to a clock that reads an hour later than what I wish it did, scrambling to get to school, still doing well on a Bio quiz. Talking to people, making amigo 1 jump every time I mentioned the choir list being posted, trying not to fall asleep.

And then the moments of uncertainty... of a dear friend that stepped up and helped out in one of the moments when I feel the weakest. I don't like not knowing... at all. I start freaking out and feeling awkward and uncertain. Yay for people with cell phones! Driving in a pick up truck, wind going through my hair, the smell of harvest, blasting country songs accompanied by laughter. Picking camomile by the hour, spending time in a heart to heart with another dear friend. Sharing garbage bags, completing swaths, joking around with the hockey guys, laughing, finding ladybugs. Grass stained hands and shoes, water that tasted wonderful, and driving home.

The suggestion for Subway, the friends we met when we went there. The joy and the laughter, my disheveled appearance and the chocolate milk that followed. The sweet knowing that nothing can stop this moment. That is why I'm alive. That He placed me here for this moment. These moments.

It's been my very own Ode to Joy, really. It's been crazy. I'm half asleep, my clothes are all dusty with walking through fields, my homework is in my backpack, there are things to be done, sleep to be pursued, tomorrow to look forward to. But it's bliss.... pure, clear, ethereal bliss! And it's in these moments that life comes alive. Life is not made in the quiet mundane days that occupy the span of my years, but the bright, the crazy, the happiness that friends bring.

Through this all I can't help imagining how great heaven will be. Honestly, there were times today that I thought, This is as good as it gets! But then I had to stop myself, because it gets way better. He has so much in store for me, and I'm so excited!

Ready

I waded through the Rubbermaid and boxes today. Pulling out binders, opening this package of paper, trying to find a set of dividers in the mis-matched pile. Testing my pens, getting new highlighters, unpacking what I packed at the end of last year.

Earlier this week, I went to the school to return something and as I walked down the second floor to the library, I could imagine what it would look like in a few days time. Three more days! That's all there is. People walking purposefully down the hallways, others meandering, Grade 7ers scared spitless, and new locker combos to figure out. Old teachers, new classes. More homework, more juggling.

I'm not ready. Well... not ready, ready. But getting there ready. A few weeks ago, the deadline of school coming made me panic as my bank account stood still. I was stressed... I wanted to postpone school until I was ready. Until I felt secure. Now that the amount is steadily rising, I'm ready in that area. But in others???

I'm ready to see my friends again. Ready for routine. Ready for the extra-curricular things that make me see my friends. Ready for playing music and singing.

I'm not ready. Not ready to have homework, not ready to have stress. Not ready to worry about deadlines or having to squeeze friend time in. Not ready for making sure my priorities are where they're supposed to be. Not ready for feeling scared, big 12th Grader that I am. Not ready for asking for help to figure out my locker combo (happens almost every year), not ready to fail to meet my expectations.

But most of all, I'm not ready to not be lazy. I want to make this year so GOOD. I want to have the most meaningful relationships, I want to keep my studies up, I want to learn what He has in store for me, I want to reach out to those who hide in corners, etc. But what I really want to do... is do all the things that I haven't done in the past for fear. Because really... this is the end. I'll never have another chance, I'll never be able to say "Oh, I'll do that next year." I'm leaving this bubble in a year, and I'm not ready to have regrets.

My biggest arch enemy in this is myself. Because of who I am, many things will slip by, many opportunities will be passed by, many people will not be touched. Because I AM LAZY. I like my comfort zone... I really, really do. I like knowing what comes next, and routine is my best friend. I like to be on top of things... on the inside of things. Not on the outside.. not in the unknown. Not in that position (oh, heavens, no) where I let Him tell me what to do.

I'm not ready to be strong. And yet, am I ever? I'm only human, I reason... but that's not a reason - that's an excuse. And yet as I struggle to prepare myself and set reasonable goals for this year, the passage about Paul and the thorn in his flesh is brought to my mind.

Paul was caught up to heaven and was given visions and revelations from the Lord, but to keep him from becoming proud and boastful, he was given a thorn in his flesh, a messenger from Satan. (Christy's Personal Paraphrase).

Then, words come that shoot straight to my heart:

"Each time he said, 'My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.' So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. That's why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong." (2 Corinthians 12:9-10, NLT)

Did you hear that? "My power works best in weakness", "For when I am weak, then I am strong"? All these weeks leading up to school, I've wanted to be strong. I've wanted to conquer, succeed, and be lauded. But that's not what it's really about. It's about Him. If I accomplished all these things and got praised for it, I would be filled with pride and self-centeredness.

It seems weird and backwards to pray "Lord, please make me weak," but as the days tick off until my last-ever-first-day-of-high-school starts... that's what I'm doing to get ready.

Gifts

-Warm, soft, baby girl arms wrapped around my neck in the dark. The moments before she realized that I am not her mother, and then the fact that she just looks at me unblinkingly and puts her head back on my chest.

-The "Bee-bo" song, how long it took me to find the CD, and little boy dancing once it was in.

-Playing with bumpy foam letters, reminders of a childhood in Africa.

-A wooden snake found at home in my bag, wanting to return to its Noah's Ark and their home.

-Joining together, in one Spirit, to listen, to learn, to sing, to praise, to laugh, to share, to shake hands, to love.

-Time spent with a Down Syndrome boy. The joy that he finds in everything and the way that he mirrors his Maker.

-Playing chess with my siblings. Learning that they have something to teach me, and that it's okay to lose.

-Picking up my flute, playing along with my Mom on piano. Wondering what others thought when they heard down the street.

-Driving with my father, learning from his wisdom, and laughing together.

-The One who it's all about.

Idyllic

Summer sun, summer breeze. Best friends, babies to hold, horses to pet, water to play with. Mowing the lawn, playing my flute, reading, watching the news, listening to Odyssey and crosstiching. Dentist appointments, the library. Chores to do and siblings to relax with. Games to play, books being read out loud. Apples fallen to the ground, sweat.

All add up to a pretty relaxing day. It's nice being in charge for a few days, and yet I'm glad that it won't last for long. I miss the other half of my family! And yet, to have the mantle of responsibility lain on my shoulders for just a few days makes me realize that someday I will be independent. They'll drag me out, kicking and screaming, but someday, I won't be this involved in my family. I'll pursue my own dreams, do my own chores, make my own rules. It's nice to have a reminder to savor today.