I had an absolutely refreshing weekend. It was so nice to get away from campus, not have to worry about work, and not think about my oh so thinly developed Rochester community. There were so many factors that made this long weekend great:
Meeting with my supervisor. I love my supervisor. She's a great listener, has excellent intuition, knows how to challenge me without pushing me over the top, and gives such genuine encouragement. It was so good to see her and meet with her and just share about what work has been like lately and to ask for help where I needed it.
Spending time with good friends who were willing to listen to me talk about how I was feeling about things going on in my life. I knew I needed to take a sabbath since I'd be at a wedding all day Saturday, and as you well know by now, socializing is not my go-to life-giving activity. Well, spending the afternoon with girlfriends who know me and understand what I do and were willing to listen just hit the spot. I felt bad for rambling and talking so much, but I knew it was something I've really needed for a while now. They were so great and it was so much fun to visit and be with them.
Fall is here and the weather has been gorgeous. It seemed like the trees along the road in the Poconos/The Crossings area were at their peak. There were so many red, orange, yellow, and green colors with speckles of purple flowers everywhere. It was so beautiful to look at as we drove along.
Singing in a friend's wedding. I can finally cross that off my bucket list, though I wouldn't mind doing it again. I've always wanted to sing at a friend's wedding, and what better way to do that than with some of your old college praise team members! I was so honored to be asked to be a part of it, and am so happy for the newlyweds. The ceremony was great and the wedding overall was fun and so well done.
There's so much I left out, but I figured I'd spare you the details (ooh, except for the fact that I got to see Pam, if even for a split few minutes - it was too short, but it was better than nothing!). The weekend was packed with good company, good conversations, good weather, good travels, good food, and good fun. Now if only I can get my hands on some butter and bake some pumpkin scones or something, that would be awesome.
Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friends. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Monday, July 22, 2013
His pursuit.
Thinking about my basic need for community has caused me to think of my basic desire for someone to reach out to me.
It's not a new issue, and I don't think I'm the only one in the world who wrestles through this. If I remember correctly, Libby and I used to call it "the dreaded 'i' word" (or something like that) back in high school. We would talk about how much we would do our best to take initiative with others (particularly with a specific group of friends) and how we wished they would take more initiative with us. Being pursued by others was often so scarce in my life that I even mentally prepared myself for the possibility that a boy may never actually pursue me in life (which didn't turn out to be true, but I'm glad I prepared myself anyway!). And after some tumultuous friendships over time tried to mentally prepare myself for the possibility that friends I have may not ever really pursue me the way I hoped they would.
Back in middle school or the beginning of high school, my pastor gave a sermon about taking initiative. He defined someone who takes initiative this way: you're aware of a need and you care enough to do something about it. He said that you needed both "aware" and "care" to complete it because you can be aware of a need but not actually care enough to do anything about it, and you can care about a need but not actually be aware of what the realistic needs actually are in order to meet them well. I always thought that was a good way of seeing it.
Dictionary.com simply defines initiative this way: an introductory act or step; leading action. In other words, you make the first move. You reach out to someone. I interchange the words initiative and pursue in this post because to me, to pursue someone is to take initiative with that person again and again and again. We have this deep desire for someone to pursue us. We want someone to know us with all of our strengths and weaknesses and still want to spend time with us, ask about how we're doing, and simply think about us from time to time.
The problem, though, is if everyone wants to be pursued, then who's going to take the initiative?
It would be a whole different issue if I expected people to pursue me without the equal expectation that I would pursue others. I can't just sit around and complain while I lack my own discipline to extend the very initiative I wish others to extend to me. I realized that I have not been doing as good of a job with this over this year as I have in the past, and that it is one way I can improve in loving others as myself. While I can't expect others to change, I know I can work on changing myself.
And as God has taught me before, it's guaranteed that there are going to be times where I take the initiative to pursue others and it feels like no one is pursuing me. It'll be tempting to blame others, resent them, or hold a grudge against them. But in those times it'll be important to remind myself that someone is pursuing me. In fact, God took the initiative with us before any of us ever did.
The question, then, is: am I willing to let go of my pride and expectations to open my heart and eyes to see how He constantly pursues me each day?
If so, then the question becomes: how am I pursuing others the way God is pursuing me? Am I aware of others' needs and do I care enough to do something about them?
It's not a new issue, and I don't think I'm the only one in the world who wrestles through this. If I remember correctly, Libby and I used to call it "the dreaded 'i' word" (or something like that) back in high school. We would talk about how much we would do our best to take initiative with others (particularly with a specific group of friends) and how we wished they would take more initiative with us. Being pursued by others was often so scarce in my life that I even mentally prepared myself for the possibility that a boy may never actually pursue me in life (which didn't turn out to be true, but I'm glad I prepared myself anyway!). And after some tumultuous friendships over time tried to mentally prepare myself for the possibility that friends I have may not ever really pursue me the way I hoped they would.
Back in middle school or the beginning of high school, my pastor gave a sermon about taking initiative. He defined someone who takes initiative this way: you're aware of a need and you care enough to do something about it. He said that you needed both "aware" and "care" to complete it because you can be aware of a need but not actually care enough to do anything about it, and you can care about a need but not actually be aware of what the realistic needs actually are in order to meet them well. I always thought that was a good way of seeing it.
Dictionary.com simply defines initiative this way: an introductory act or step; leading action. In other words, you make the first move. You reach out to someone. I interchange the words initiative and pursue in this post because to me, to pursue someone is to take initiative with that person again and again and again. We have this deep desire for someone to pursue us. We want someone to know us with all of our strengths and weaknesses and still want to spend time with us, ask about how we're doing, and simply think about us from time to time.
The problem, though, is if everyone wants to be pursued, then who's going to take the initiative?
It would be a whole different issue if I expected people to pursue me without the equal expectation that I would pursue others. I can't just sit around and complain while I lack my own discipline to extend the very initiative I wish others to extend to me. I realized that I have not been doing as good of a job with this over this year as I have in the past, and that it is one way I can improve in loving others as myself. While I can't expect others to change, I know I can work on changing myself.
And as God has taught me before, it's guaranteed that there are going to be times where I take the initiative to pursue others and it feels like no one is pursuing me. It'll be tempting to blame others, resent them, or hold a grudge against them. But in those times it'll be important to remind myself that someone is pursuing me. In fact, God took the initiative with us before any of us ever did.
The question, then, is: am I willing to let go of my pride and expectations to open my heart and eyes to see how He constantly pursues me each day?
If so, then the question becomes: how am I pursuing others the way God is pursuing me? Am I aware of others' needs and do I care enough to do something about them?
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Desert ground.
I've learned many important things about marriage before I actually got married. One of those things was that getting married doesn't erase the loneliness in your life. It makes sense - the marriage of two people means the marriage of two sinful people who live in a sinful world. And while Jesus is our ultimate source of comfort and joy, it doesn't mean you won't ever feel lonely.
This year was a pretty rough one, in that every area of my life was in transition, change, and in some cases, chaos. But in the invisible and subtle ways that God often works, He pulled me through. I don't really know how He did (though I'm pretty sure having Nathan in my life had something to do with it), and I'm still having trouble connecting with God and experiencing His presence in my life this year, but I feel like the storm has passed for the time being. It still has its effects, but that's a whole different story.
Though, as I've been reflecting on my lack of best friends, mourning the loss of community, and chewing through the time and effort it takes to build a new one, I think I'm beginning to feel a sense of loneliness sink in for the first time. I think part of what evoked it is from the fact that I'm in NYC without Pam or my dad around, and Nathan is away hiking the Appalachian Trail for a few days in radio silence. Some of it just comes out of the basic desire for someone to take initiative with me - to be excited that I was in NYC and express desire to spend time with me without me having to fish for it.
From there, my loneliness manifests itself just from thinking - wondering whether or not I make some difference in the world and if I really matter to people besides those who are kind of obligated to love me (aka, my family and Nathan). Or what my life would look like if I didn't work for InterVarsity, having some pretty stellar colleagues who are there for me simply through the circumstances that we work together. Even though in movies it's always inspiring and sweet when something tragic happens to someone and they discover all of these people who come flocking to them with encouragement and support, I don't want to wait for something tragic to happen to me to find out who really cares.
It sounds pretty emo when I read that. But I think it feels like because I've moved out of Rochester, I've moved out of people's lives. It feels like it has caused a chasm in physical distance and relational distance, and no one really wants to make the effort to reach across it, even just to meet me halfway. There's this hunger in me to go deeper with others; not necessarily to debate things like political views, theological beliefs, or the weaknesses of this generation; but instead to listen to others' struggles, character flaws, or mistakes, and to be able to share mine. I want to be one of the first ones they think of to share some joyful piece of news, and vice versa; simply so that we could be there for each other.
This year was a pretty rough one, in that every area of my life was in transition, change, and in some cases, chaos. But in the invisible and subtle ways that God often works, He pulled me through. I don't really know how He did (though I'm pretty sure having Nathan in my life had something to do with it), and I'm still having trouble connecting with God and experiencing His presence in my life this year, but I feel like the storm has passed for the time being. It still has its effects, but that's a whole different story.
Though, as I've been reflecting on my lack of best friends, mourning the loss of community, and chewing through the time and effort it takes to build a new one, I think I'm beginning to feel a sense of loneliness sink in for the first time. I think part of what evoked it is from the fact that I'm in NYC without Pam or my dad around, and Nathan is away hiking the Appalachian Trail for a few days in radio silence. Some of it just comes out of the basic desire for someone to take initiative with me - to be excited that I was in NYC and express desire to spend time with me without me having to fish for it.
From there, my loneliness manifests itself just from thinking - wondering whether or not I make some difference in the world and if I really matter to people besides those who are kind of obligated to love me (aka, my family and Nathan). Or what my life would look like if I didn't work for InterVarsity, having some pretty stellar colleagues who are there for me simply through the circumstances that we work together. Even though in movies it's always inspiring and sweet when something tragic happens to someone and they discover all of these people who come flocking to them with encouragement and support, I don't want to wait for something tragic to happen to me to find out who really cares.
It sounds pretty emo when I read that. But I think it feels like because I've moved out of Rochester, I've moved out of people's lives. It feels like it has caused a chasm in physical distance and relational distance, and no one really wants to make the effort to reach across it, even just to meet me halfway. There's this hunger in me to go deeper with others; not necessarily to debate things like political views, theological beliefs, or the weaknesses of this generation; but instead to listen to others' struggles, character flaws, or mistakes, and to be able to share mine. I want to be one of the first ones they think of to share some joyful piece of news, and vice versa; simply so that we could be there for each other.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Like a bucket of iced water suddenly dumped on my head.
A stark reality struck me tonight: I absolutely suck at friendships.
Now, I'm not saying I'm some sort of loner or hermit or that I don't have any friends at all. I'm talking about best friends. Lifelong ones. Nathan doesn't count in this equation because he's my husband and that's a different kind of best friend, and Pam is disqualified because she's my sister and while she, too, is my best friend, much of that friendship hinges on the fact that we are blood sisters.
No, I'm talking about rock solid, female friendships that last a lifetime. The ones that last through all seasons of life, no matter what unexpected bends come along with the journey. The ones that grow in new ways and closer in better ways with time and change. I'm talking kindred spirits, as Anne Shirley would say. And maybe Anne Shirley is part of the problem I've created for myself - that through media and novels, I've developed an unrealistic, irrational ideal that I can have a lifelong friendship.
It was always one of my deepest core beliefs was that it was possible for me to have a lifelong best friend. I knew having a best friend meant that we would hurt each other and go through rough patches, but we'd somehow make it through and the experience would make our friendship stronger. I always thought I valued my friendships over any boy, and I never wanted any boy to take over my whole world in such a way that my friendships would suffer.
When I first thought about this, I thought that that's what I let happen - I had somehow let myself get so absorbed in my relationship with Nathan that I neglected my close friendships to the point of practical non-existence. But no, part of the starkness of this realization was that it didn't really have much to do with Nathan - in my opinion, I think we've done a pretty good job of giving each other the freedom to continue building and valuing our relationships with other friends. I don't think we took over each other's entire lives in an unhealthy way.
Nope, I realized Nathan had nothing to do with any of it - it was just me. I just single-handedly ruined my friendships all by myself. And though I would work hard to build those friendships back up, I don't think they even want to be best friends with me anymore. Just good friends. No hostility, resentment, or anger pent up. We're just not best friends. I think I don't have best friends because I don't know how to be a good one.
Part of the packaging that comes with this stark realization is the worry that it doesn't feel like I will get another chance to learn how to be a good lifelong best friend. I can't go back in time, I probably won't be in school anymore, and to me, being married puts me at a slight disadvantage because it's a very different stage of life and people kind of come with the assumption that you don't need any new friends (believe me, I used to subconsciously make this assumption about married people when I was single all the time). Plus, even if I made any new best friends, we wouldn't have the memories of how stupid or silly we were when we were younger, and it would take a lot of ground work just to get to know each others' likes, dislikes, quirks, and habits. Or even to know each other's strengths and weaknesses to encourage each other to keep using our gifts and challenge each other when our weaknesses get the best of us. And I have such deep friendship insecurities - who knows how many times that has bit me in the butt in the past and would do so in the future?
Maybe this is just the reality of the life of friendship-building as an adult. At the same time, I wonder if I'm just not meant to have best friends. At first I thought maybe I'm just setting too high of expectations out of what it means for me to have a best friend, or that I'm expecting out of best friends what I can only expect God to fulfill. But I don't think that's it. Then I thought I was being lazy, not really wanting to put in the time or work to build such a friendship. But I don't think that's it at all either.
I think maybe I'm just skeptical if it's worth it all, if it's worth giving my greatest attempt as a best friend only to lose another one.
Now, I'm not saying I'm some sort of loner or hermit or that I don't have any friends at all. I'm talking about best friends. Lifelong ones. Nathan doesn't count in this equation because he's my husband and that's a different kind of best friend, and Pam is disqualified because she's my sister and while she, too, is my best friend, much of that friendship hinges on the fact that we are blood sisters.
No, I'm talking about rock solid, female friendships that last a lifetime. The ones that last through all seasons of life, no matter what unexpected bends come along with the journey. The ones that grow in new ways and closer in better ways with time and change. I'm talking kindred spirits, as Anne Shirley would say. And maybe Anne Shirley is part of the problem I've created for myself - that through media and novels, I've developed an unrealistic, irrational ideal that I can have a lifelong friendship.
It was always one of my deepest core beliefs was that it was possible for me to have a lifelong best friend. I knew having a best friend meant that we would hurt each other and go through rough patches, but we'd somehow make it through and the experience would make our friendship stronger. I always thought I valued my friendships over any boy, and I never wanted any boy to take over my whole world in such a way that my friendships would suffer.
When I first thought about this, I thought that that's what I let happen - I had somehow let myself get so absorbed in my relationship with Nathan that I neglected my close friendships to the point of practical non-existence. But no, part of the starkness of this realization was that it didn't really have much to do with Nathan - in my opinion, I think we've done a pretty good job of giving each other the freedom to continue building and valuing our relationships with other friends. I don't think we took over each other's entire lives in an unhealthy way.
Nope, I realized Nathan had nothing to do with any of it - it was just me. I just single-handedly ruined my friendships all by myself. And though I would work hard to build those friendships back up, I don't think they even want to be best friends with me anymore. Just good friends. No hostility, resentment, or anger pent up. We're just not best friends. I think I don't have best friends because I don't know how to be a good one.
Part of the packaging that comes with this stark realization is the worry that it doesn't feel like I will get another chance to learn how to be a good lifelong best friend. I can't go back in time, I probably won't be in school anymore, and to me, being married puts me at a slight disadvantage because it's a very different stage of life and people kind of come with the assumption that you don't need any new friends (believe me, I used to subconsciously make this assumption about married people when I was single all the time). Plus, even if I made any new best friends, we wouldn't have the memories of how stupid or silly we were when we were younger, and it would take a lot of ground work just to get to know each others' likes, dislikes, quirks, and habits. Or even to know each other's strengths and weaknesses to encourage each other to keep using our gifts and challenge each other when our weaknesses get the best of us. And I have such deep friendship insecurities - who knows how many times that has bit me in the butt in the past and would do so in the future?
Maybe this is just the reality of the life of friendship-building as an adult. At the same time, I wonder if I'm just not meant to have best friends. At first I thought maybe I'm just setting too high of expectations out of what it means for me to have a best friend, or that I'm expecting out of best friends what I can only expect God to fulfill. But I don't think that's it. Then I thought I was being lazy, not really wanting to put in the time or work to build such a friendship. But I don't think that's it at all either.
I think maybe I'm just skeptical if it's worth it all, if it's worth giving my greatest attempt as a best friend only to lose another one.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Mish-mash of loose ends.
I don't know if it's because I drank a cup of green tea just before bed, or because there's a very loud band playing at the bar across the street and they've left the door open so that it sounds like the band is right outside my open window, or because of the fact that my husband won't be home for the next six days, but I'm suddenly very awake and can't go to sleep.
I've washed my face and in the meantime, the band seems to have put away their drumsticks and guitar amps for now. But being this awake made me think about things I think about and how I've been having such a hard time writing any blog posts lately because they'd just all be loose ends. Maybe if I write them down they'll eventually become inspirations for new posts.
My fear and discomfort with asking people for things - which covers everything from ordering pizza or helping me in some way - has been recently re-surfacing. It was going to be the topic of this next blog post, but I've already spent nearly two weeks on it and I still have no closing thoughts.
I still have not been connecting with God the way I used to, and even though I've stopped trying to keep up my old ways, I've lacked the motivation and inspiration to try new ways of connecting with God. I also realize I lack the faith that God is pursuing me and is with me, even though I know in my head that He is.
Today I led a couple of my freshmen students through a discussion around what's the most difficult part of committing to following Jesus - sacrificing comforts or desires, finding Jesus' purpose for me, or following through with my decisions until they are complete. And I found myself steering towards the second, as I thought about how I am average at many things and not great or passionate in any particular focus enough to discipline myself to develop my interests and skills further. I like singing, I like baking, I like planning parties, I like hosting others, I like reading, I like taking pictures, I like blogging, and so on, but I am not particularly dedicated to any one of those things, not even in small ways on a regular basis. I feel paralyzed and stuck with my gifts and purposes. It's discouraging and nothing new.
I've also been mulling over my ongoing naivete about best friends. For some reason, ever since I was extremely young, I had this solid core belief ingrained in me that it was possible and desirable to have a best friend for life. And maybe this belief was reinforced by shows or movies I watched, books I read, or relationships I've observed, but nonetheless, out of this belief came my deep value over my close friendships. I knew I would get hurt, and I knew I would hurt them at some point. But I invested myself wholly because I believed that if we could get past the hardships together, we would make it as best friends. The hardships would make us stronger. But somewhere along the way, my belief in lifetime best friends broke. And as I let myself hope again and gained back my belief, it broke again. Healing came, but with so many we've come out the other side as friends - some, good friends - but no longer as best friends. We've stood the test of forgiveness but couldn't stand the subtle test of time and change. And now, in a completely different phase of life, with no nearby old friends and the difficulty of making new ones, there's this yearning to again build upon the belief that it's possible to have a best friend (different from my husband). At the same time, there's this part of me that wants to say, "Why bother?"
This year I've noticed that I've reverted back to my usual shy-person-taking-forever-to-adjust-to-her-new-surroundings-and-not-be-as-shy phase that has typically occurred when I enter a new school. I'm not talking about introversion - yes, I'm still introverted and need my alone time, but this is the kind of attitude people always associate and mix-up with introversion that isn't always true. Shyness does not equal introversion. When I'm at the office, I don't really initiate conversations, and it's really hard for me to put myself out there to try and get to know the student workers or other chaplains. When I'm with my students, no one really comes over to talk to me, and while I try my best to meet new students and keep conversations going, I feel like it's particularly difficult because I don't have any go-to relationships with any of my students that can act as a home base in those kinds of group settings for me. And it's an annoying realization because I don't want to be shy. And I wasn't this shy just a year or two ago. But I can't help it - it's my slow adjustment process to the change of environment. Can you feel the tension?
Well, there you have it. My unfinished thoughts for the week. It seems as though the band across the street have packed up their music for good, and my eyes are ready to stop opening for the rest of the night.
I've washed my face and in the meantime, the band seems to have put away their drumsticks and guitar amps for now. But being this awake made me think about things I think about and how I've been having such a hard time writing any blog posts lately because they'd just all be loose ends. Maybe if I write them down they'll eventually become inspirations for new posts.
My fear and discomfort with asking people for things - which covers everything from ordering pizza or helping me in some way - has been recently re-surfacing. It was going to be the topic of this next blog post, but I've already spent nearly two weeks on it and I still have no closing thoughts.
I still have not been connecting with God the way I used to, and even though I've stopped trying to keep up my old ways, I've lacked the motivation and inspiration to try new ways of connecting with God. I also realize I lack the faith that God is pursuing me and is with me, even though I know in my head that He is.
Today I led a couple of my freshmen students through a discussion around what's the most difficult part of committing to following Jesus - sacrificing comforts or desires, finding Jesus' purpose for me, or following through with my decisions until they are complete. And I found myself steering towards the second, as I thought about how I am average at many things and not great or passionate in any particular focus enough to discipline myself to develop my interests and skills further. I like singing, I like baking, I like planning parties, I like hosting others, I like reading, I like taking pictures, I like blogging, and so on, but I am not particularly dedicated to any one of those things, not even in small ways on a regular basis. I feel paralyzed and stuck with my gifts and purposes. It's discouraging and nothing new.
I've also been mulling over my ongoing naivete about best friends. For some reason, ever since I was extremely young, I had this solid core belief ingrained in me that it was possible and desirable to have a best friend for life. And maybe this belief was reinforced by shows or movies I watched, books I read, or relationships I've observed, but nonetheless, out of this belief came my deep value over my close friendships. I knew I would get hurt, and I knew I would hurt them at some point. But I invested myself wholly because I believed that if we could get past the hardships together, we would make it as best friends. The hardships would make us stronger. But somewhere along the way, my belief in lifetime best friends broke. And as I let myself hope again and gained back my belief, it broke again. Healing came, but with so many we've come out the other side as friends - some, good friends - but no longer as best friends. We've stood the test of forgiveness but couldn't stand the subtle test of time and change. And now, in a completely different phase of life, with no nearby old friends and the difficulty of making new ones, there's this yearning to again build upon the belief that it's possible to have a best friend (different from my husband). At the same time, there's this part of me that wants to say, "Why bother?"
This year I've noticed that I've reverted back to my usual shy-person-taking-forever-to-adjust-to-her-new-surroundings-and-not-be-as-shy phase that has typically occurred when I enter a new school. I'm not talking about introversion - yes, I'm still introverted and need my alone time, but this is the kind of attitude people always associate and mix-up with introversion that isn't always true. Shyness does not equal introversion. When I'm at the office, I don't really initiate conversations, and it's really hard for me to put myself out there to try and get to know the student workers or other chaplains. When I'm with my students, no one really comes over to talk to me, and while I try my best to meet new students and keep conversations going, I feel like it's particularly difficult because I don't have any go-to relationships with any of my students that can act as a home base in those kinds of group settings for me. And it's an annoying realization because I don't want to be shy. And I wasn't this shy just a year or two ago. But I can't help it - it's my slow adjustment process to the change of environment. Can you feel the tension?
Well, there you have it. My unfinished thoughts for the week. It seems as though the band across the street have packed up their music for good, and my eyes are ready to stop opening for the rest of the night.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Christmas cheer.
There were a few years when I was little, when my dad would use these pre-made paper links to celebrate Advent with me and my family. Each night in December after dinner, we'd read the little blurb about an aspect of the Christmas story on one side of the paper strip and then would do the word puzzle together on the back side before my dad would lick the adhesive end to add to our paper chain that we hung on our real Christmas tree. I absolutely loved that tradition of Advent celebration, but we only did it for a few years (I think the company where my dad ordered the paper strips from stopped making them) and Christmas just hasn't been the same for me since then. We'd still light our Advent candles each day, adding a new one for each week, and my dad would go through some Advent booklet, but I longed for something more creative and exciting and fun.
Even though I do think the materialistic hubbub, shopping dash and overly-done crazy Christmas stuff can be a bit over-the-top and isn't the real meaning of Christmas, I still love the Christmas season and the things that come with it. I love the decorating process, real Christmas trees, 24-7 Christmas music radio stations, and learning about people's quirky family traditions while enjoying my own.
This is the first year I won't be spending Christmas with my family. This is also the first year where I felt like I had a chance to really be free in getting my creative juices flowing to start my own quirky family traditions, go all out with Christmas decorations, and celebrate the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ in creative ways. But November was quite a crazy month of emotional roller coasters, which made focusing on preparing for Christmas season the last thing on my mind. And with so much traveling and planning for work these past few weeks, the most I've done this season is put up a Christmas wreath on our apartment door, set up a nice nativity scene on our windowsill, and sometimes listen to Christmas music on Pandora all day. Nathan and I thought it would be silly to get a real Christmas tree since we wouldn't be home for most of the month. Things went by too fast for me to think about sending any Christmas cards or gifts for friends, family and co-workers, and I haven't even baked anything.
Thinking and lamenting over how I haven't done anything for Christmas has got me thinking of some ideas for next year. For example, we don't have many Christmas decorations (though we did get some as wedding gifts from some pretty brilliant friends!), but I was thinking maybe there would be some after-Christmas sales that Nathan and I could catch (hopefully there will still be sales after Urbana!). Also, I got this other idea (initially as a joke) for if I know Nathan and I will be traveling a lot during December for work and visiting family next year, maybe we can get one of those little Charlie-Brown-Christmas type Christmas trees to keep when we're home and to bring with us when we're traveling. Portable Christmas tree? That'd be a quirky tradition :)
Anyway, sorry about the lack of spreading Christmas cheer from the Bixlers. Hopefully we'll be in a better place to do so next year!
Even though I do think the materialistic hubbub, shopping dash and overly-done crazy Christmas stuff can be a bit over-the-top and isn't the real meaning of Christmas, I still love the Christmas season and the things that come with it. I love the decorating process, real Christmas trees, 24-7 Christmas music radio stations, and learning about people's quirky family traditions while enjoying my own.
This is the first year I won't be spending Christmas with my family. This is also the first year where I felt like I had a chance to really be free in getting my creative juices flowing to start my own quirky family traditions, go all out with Christmas decorations, and celebrate the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ in creative ways. But November was quite a crazy month of emotional roller coasters, which made focusing on preparing for Christmas season the last thing on my mind. And with so much traveling and planning for work these past few weeks, the most I've done this season is put up a Christmas wreath on our apartment door, set up a nice nativity scene on our windowsill, and sometimes listen to Christmas music on Pandora all day. Nathan and I thought it would be silly to get a real Christmas tree since we wouldn't be home for most of the month. Things went by too fast for me to think about sending any Christmas cards or gifts for friends, family and co-workers, and I haven't even baked anything.
Thinking and lamenting over how I haven't done anything for Christmas has got me thinking of some ideas for next year. For example, we don't have many Christmas decorations (though we did get some as wedding gifts from some pretty brilliant friends!), but I was thinking maybe there would be some after-Christmas sales that Nathan and I could catch (hopefully there will still be sales after Urbana!). Also, I got this other idea (initially as a joke) for if I know Nathan and I will be traveling a lot during December for work and visiting family next year, maybe we can get one of those little Charlie-Brown-Christmas type Christmas trees to keep when we're home and to bring with us when we're traveling. Portable Christmas tree? That'd be a quirky tradition :)
Anyway, sorry about the lack of spreading Christmas cheer from the Bixlers. Hopefully we'll be in a better place to do so next year!
Thursday, October 4, 2012
I've forgotten how to make friends.
There are not many things I expected or clearly wanted in a "potential husband." I didn't create this customized soul mate for myself in my head because I knew "the one" didn't exist. However, one of the few things I whole-heartedly (and still do) believed was that it was possible and it was okay to want my husband to be my best friend. And friendships don't just pop out of nowhere - they need to grow and mature if you nourish them and let them go through trials. That's how I concluded that if I were to enter a dating relationship (which, from my perspective, is for the purpose of working towards marriage), it would stem out of a solid and somewhat deep friendship I had with a brother in Christ.
And that's exactly what happened. But I think Nathan and I did a pretty good job making it clear while we were dating that we weren't going to be each other's entire world. We knew our significant other wasn't going to fill our emptiness, meet our every need, or make us never feel lonely again. Other people are very important to me. Friends and those in need were my top priority for most of my life, and a boy wasn't going to come in and mess that up. I've always needed and wanted different circles of friends, and because of this, I knew that that aspect of moving to Rochester was going to be difficult and that being married wouldn't be enough.
I don't have any friends here. I'd like to make some. The only problem is, I've practically forgotten how to make friends. During my college years I was more often than not surrounded by people I knew, and even if there were new friends to be made, I made them together with my home base of friends there with me. Nowadays I get shy or just don't open up as easily or quickly because it feels so new. And I don't have a solid base of friends to retreat to when new relationships don't quite hit it off the way I'd hoped.
This old feeling has returned where I feel like I'm barely hanging on to my relationships from back home. Ever since my college years I've always found it very difficult for me to develop my relationships with those who weren't within my immediately community. It becomes a nasty tug-of-war within myself because it takes a lot of work to develop my immediate community around me, and it takes a lot of work to develop the community I grew up with, and finding a balance is like walking through some thick, pitch-dark woods without a flashlight or anything else to survive the night with.
I want my friends and family back home to know how important they are to me and how much I want to be there for them, but I know that I can't be there for them the same way I could if I was living near them. Maybe it's been like this for a while or it's a long time coming, but the reality that I'm not going to be the first person anyone would call for help or advice has been sinking in. No one's going to expect me to comfort them through this difficult time they're going through and ask me to pray for them right now. I'm not going to be asked for my opinion about which color to paint their room or if they could borrow one of my dresses. No one's going to say, "I'm so glad you picked up your phone because I really needed to talk to you." I'm not going to be at the forefront of people's minds because the reality is that people are busy, I'm not in a dire situation (like a soldier or missionary serving overseas), and I'm not by myself. I'm married now.
Well, I got what I asked for: my husband is my best friend. It just never sunk in as to how, after gaining this best friend of a husband, moving to Rochester would be at the cost of so many other relationships. The rubber has begun to meet the road where I'm working through the losses of stepping out of a community that has loved me, encouraged me, and supported me for many, many years.
I've been thinking and blogging a lot lately about the concept of living a good story. And as I wrestle within the tensions of moving to the fringe of one community and what it means to move deeper into another, it forces me to think about the God I serve - the God who calls us to develop and steward community as we go to the places God leads us. The move to Rochester is a threshold I'm forced to make a decision about: I can either constantly look back over my shoulder at what could've or should've been, or I can look forward to the opportunities I have before me to live a better story. So I'm choosing to embrace the new stories and relationships God invites me to participate in and I'm looking forward to sharing these stories with those in both the community of my past and the community of my future.
And that's exactly what happened. But I think Nathan and I did a pretty good job making it clear while we were dating that we weren't going to be each other's entire world. We knew our significant other wasn't going to fill our emptiness, meet our every need, or make us never feel lonely again. Other people are very important to me. Friends and those in need were my top priority for most of my life, and a boy wasn't going to come in and mess that up. I've always needed and wanted different circles of friends, and because of this, I knew that that aspect of moving to Rochester was going to be difficult and that being married wouldn't be enough.
I don't have any friends here. I'd like to make some. The only problem is, I've practically forgotten how to make friends. During my college years I was more often than not surrounded by people I knew, and even if there were new friends to be made, I made them together with my home base of friends there with me. Nowadays I get shy or just don't open up as easily or quickly because it feels so new. And I don't have a solid base of friends to retreat to when new relationships don't quite hit it off the way I'd hoped.
This old feeling has returned where I feel like I'm barely hanging on to my relationships from back home. Ever since my college years I've always found it very difficult for me to develop my relationships with those who weren't within my immediately community. It becomes a nasty tug-of-war within myself because it takes a lot of work to develop my immediate community around me, and it takes a lot of work to develop the community I grew up with, and finding a balance is like walking through some thick, pitch-dark woods without a flashlight or anything else to survive the night with.
I want my friends and family back home to know how important they are to me and how much I want to be there for them, but I know that I can't be there for them the same way I could if I was living near them. Maybe it's been like this for a while or it's a long time coming, but the reality that I'm not going to be the first person anyone would call for help or advice has been sinking in. No one's going to expect me to comfort them through this difficult time they're going through and ask me to pray for them right now. I'm not going to be asked for my opinion about which color to paint their room or if they could borrow one of my dresses. No one's going to say, "I'm so glad you picked up your phone because I really needed to talk to you." I'm not going to be at the forefront of people's minds because the reality is that people are busy, I'm not in a dire situation (like a soldier or missionary serving overseas), and I'm not by myself. I'm married now.
Well, I got what I asked for: my husband is my best friend. It just never sunk in as to how, after gaining this best friend of a husband, moving to Rochester would be at the cost of so many other relationships. The rubber has begun to meet the road where I'm working through the losses of stepping out of a community that has loved me, encouraged me, and supported me for many, many years.
I've been thinking and blogging a lot lately about the concept of living a good story. And as I wrestle within the tensions of moving to the fringe of one community and what it means to move deeper into another, it forces me to think about the God I serve - the God who calls us to develop and steward community as we go to the places God leads us. The move to Rochester is a threshold I'm forced to make a decision about: I can either constantly look back over my shoulder at what could've or should've been, or I can look forward to the opportunities I have before me to live a better story. So I'm choosing to embrace the new stories and relationships God invites me to participate in and I'm looking forward to sharing these stories with those in both the community of my past and the community of my future.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Ceiling musings.
This past Sunday was a lovely morning - I appreciated and enjoyed the perspective Pastor Kyle took on Joseph's story in his sermon, and over lunch had the privilege of hearing the story of what God has been doing in Mun Joo's life. She was someone new Sarah Min had met on the church bus that morning, and it was really nice talking with her.
I decided to have a very restful afternoon when I got home to our apartment. It was quiet after Katy came back from church and went to sleep. For the past week I was playing Christmas music almost nonstop, but for that afternoon I thought it would be nice to do some low-key things I really enjoy doing, such as reading or playing guitar.
I pulled out the fair-trade quilt I had asked my aunt for last Christmas and brought my laptop with my current reading, Banker to the Poor: Micro-lending and the battle against world poverty by Muhammad Yunus, to our really comfortable sofa in the living room.
After feeling very productive and relaxed for reading a few chapters, I got very sleepy and did something I haven't done in a long time: I decided to take a short nap.
Soon after I set my alarm and had fallen asleep on the couch, I woke up to some kind of scratching noise. I opened my eyes and started sitting up to figure out where the noise was coming from because it sounded so close by. I looked straight across the room at the front door because it sounded like someone was just outside the door, taping or posting some kind of paper on it.
I was curious as to who it was or what they were doing to our door, but the longer I listened, the less convinced I was that someone was there. At that moment, I looked up and noticed that a huge chunk of the ceiling paint had started hanging down, with a rip that was slowly moving across the width of the ceiling.
I'm not sure if it was because I had just woken up from a nap or not, but I just stared at the rip, somehow trying to reassure my brain that that's exactly what was happening. I think I was a little caught off guard but also didn't really know what to do.
It felt like I must've been in some kind of tv show or movie where the viewers are watching, yelling at the screen, "Why are you just sitting there?! Get out of the way! Do something!" But I wasn't listening because I was in some kind of daze, somewhere in between the fact that I knew what was happening but couldn't really do anything to stop it so all I could do was watch.
Suddenly the rip finished tearing across the ceiling and a good chunk of the paint crumbled to the ground below, taking down a couple of plants with it and leaving a mess behind.
It was weird. Here I was, staring at the ceiling for what felt like forever, fully aware that the paint was ripping and yet I was still shocked when it all came down. You could hear my shock amidst the silence. What a weird response.
It was a loud crash. I half expected Katy to pop open her door and come see what all the commotion was about, but she didn't. I sat there for a good few minutes, thinking about what I should do before I got up, examined the mess, and then went to wake Katy up to tell her what happened.
After Katy gave me our landlord's number and I left a message for our landlord, I carefully cleaned up the mess.
Later on that night after Sarah came home she opted not to watch a movie in the living room because there was still more that looked like it was ready to come down, and last night when Lauren Kirst and I decided to watch a movie there, Sarah suggested we open a couple of umbrellas and hold them over our heads while we watched, just in case something else fell down. Her suggestion reminded me of a scene from Gilmore Girls and made me smile :]
Tonight is another tranquil evening. I ventured back into the living room with my fair-trade quilt, Muhammad Yunus, and a hot cup of creamy, cinnamon and peppermint hot chocolate. I lit some candles but opted to leave the Christmas music off - to fight the common fear of silence, conquer the fragility of stillness, and bask in the joy of God's presence and the soothing process of unpacking some of my thoughts. I'm sitting in the same corner of the couch I sat in just a day ago, staring instead at a partial ceiling exposed to its bare plaster-y flesh in this cold, cold apartment.
The more I stare at the ceiling in this silence, the more it looks like a metaphor of life.
So far, there is one thought and feeling I've accumulated from this gentle evening: realizing how much you miss someone is common but recognizing that it stems from a desire to enjoy their company with you and not from a desire to avoid being lonely - well, it just warms my heart.
Unless that's just the hot chocolate speaking.
I decided to have a very restful afternoon when I got home to our apartment. It was quiet after Katy came back from church and went to sleep. For the past week I was playing Christmas music almost nonstop, but for that afternoon I thought it would be nice to do some low-key things I really enjoy doing, such as reading or playing guitar.
I pulled out the fair-trade quilt I had asked my aunt for last Christmas and brought my laptop with my current reading, Banker to the Poor: Micro-lending and the battle against world poverty by Muhammad Yunus, to our really comfortable sofa in the living room.
After feeling very productive and relaxed for reading a few chapters, I got very sleepy and did something I haven't done in a long time: I decided to take a short nap.
Soon after I set my alarm and had fallen asleep on the couch, I woke up to some kind of scratching noise. I opened my eyes and started sitting up to figure out where the noise was coming from because it sounded so close by. I looked straight across the room at the front door because it sounded like someone was just outside the door, taping or posting some kind of paper on it.
I was curious as to who it was or what they were doing to our door, but the longer I listened, the less convinced I was that someone was there. At that moment, I looked up and noticed that a huge chunk of the ceiling paint had started hanging down, with a rip that was slowly moving across the width of the ceiling.
I'm not sure if it was because I had just woken up from a nap or not, but I just stared at the rip, somehow trying to reassure my brain that that's exactly what was happening. I think I was a little caught off guard but also didn't really know what to do.
It felt like I must've been in some kind of tv show or movie where the viewers are watching, yelling at the screen, "Why are you just sitting there?! Get out of the way! Do something!" But I wasn't listening because I was in some kind of daze, somewhere in between the fact that I knew what was happening but couldn't really do anything to stop it so all I could do was watch.
Suddenly the rip finished tearing across the ceiling and a good chunk of the paint crumbled to the ground below, taking down a couple of plants with it and leaving a mess behind.
It was weird. Here I was, staring at the ceiling for what felt like forever, fully aware that the paint was ripping and yet I was still shocked when it all came down. You could hear my shock amidst the silence. What a weird response.It was a loud crash. I half expected Katy to pop open her door and come see what all the commotion was about, but she didn't. I sat there for a good few minutes, thinking about what I should do before I got up, examined the mess, and then went to wake Katy up to tell her what happened.
After Katy gave me our landlord's number and I left a message for our landlord, I carefully cleaned up the mess.
Later on that night after Sarah came home she opted not to watch a movie in the living room because there was still more that looked like it was ready to come down, and last night when Lauren Kirst and I decided to watch a movie there, Sarah suggested we open a couple of umbrellas and hold them over our heads while we watched, just in case something else fell down. Her suggestion reminded me of a scene from Gilmore Girls and made me smile :]
Tonight is another tranquil evening. I ventured back into the living room with my fair-trade quilt, Muhammad Yunus, and a hot cup of creamy, cinnamon and peppermint hot chocolate. I lit some candles but opted to leave the Christmas music off - to fight the common fear of silence, conquer the fragility of stillness, and bask in the joy of God's presence and the soothing process of unpacking some of my thoughts. I'm sitting in the same corner of the couch I sat in just a day ago, staring instead at a partial ceiling exposed to its bare plaster-y flesh in this cold, cold apartment.The more I stare at the ceiling in this silence, the more it looks like a metaphor of life.
So far, there is one thought and feeling I've accumulated from this gentle evening: realizing how much you miss someone is common but recognizing that it stems from a desire to enjoy their company with you and not from a desire to avoid being lonely - well, it just warms my heart.
Unless that's just the hot chocolate speaking.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Landing gear.
Last night I came home and felt like my head was going to explode. Hauling home a brain at midnight brimming with information and emotions after falling asleep around 4am the night before wasn't exactly a walk in the park.
But opening the door to a tranquil apartment with serene Christmas lights lit and a gentle Sarah Min wrapped in a blanket offering to make me tea makes the unwinding process so much easier.
As we were talking about life, she asked how I was doing because she had noticed that I've been more stressed out lately - or at least would react more strongly to things than she's ever seen me before. I nodded because I've been consciously aware of it but hadn't really stopped to think about it because I don't feel overwhelmed or stressed out about anything. Maybe very frustrated at times, but as I examined my internal realm, there's nothing new and nothing that seems to have shifted in any way.
I told Sarah how over the past four years God has been shaping my relationship with Him, my character and my leadership in such transformative, drastic ways such that my internal changes would permeate into my external changes. As I said that I wondered if God was preparing me in a way to have a more solid internal realm so that when I encountered all of these changes in my external world, my internal world wouldn't immediately crumble at the first sign of trouble.
What I realized, though, in regards to my recent behavior, was that the plane was landing. At least, that's how I explained it to Sarah.
Most of the time when you're in an airplane, you know you're headed somewhere and are able to prepare to land. You're very aware that you're going to be hitting the ground soon, and so the captain tells everyone to sit down, buckle their seat belts, and put away anything that may disrupt the landing process. You can look out the tiny window pane and actually watch as buildings drift closer and closer.
But even with all the preparation and cautionary steps; even when you've mentally, physically, and (I guess) emotionally prepared yourself for the landing and know you're going to be just fine, there's still something unnerving about the moment the wheels touch the ground.
So I think that's kind of where I am. I'm not in an actual airplane, so the moment where the wheels touch the ground actually lasts a little longer than a few minutes in life. But I'm not completely stressed or doubtful about where I am or where I'm going. I may be just a little extra sensitive or slightly insecure about the decisions I made to take certain flights with unknown destinations.
But opening the door to a tranquil apartment with serene Christmas lights lit and a gentle Sarah Min wrapped in a blanket offering to make me tea makes the unwinding process so much easier.
As we were talking about life, she asked how I was doing because she had noticed that I've been more stressed out lately - or at least would react more strongly to things than she's ever seen me before. I nodded because I've been consciously aware of it but hadn't really stopped to think about it because I don't feel overwhelmed or stressed out about anything. Maybe very frustrated at times, but as I examined my internal realm, there's nothing new and nothing that seems to have shifted in any way.
I told Sarah how over the past four years God has been shaping my relationship with Him, my character and my leadership in such transformative, drastic ways such that my internal changes would permeate into my external changes. As I said that I wondered if God was preparing me in a way to have a more solid internal realm so that when I encountered all of these changes in my external world, my internal world wouldn't immediately crumble at the first sign of trouble.
What I realized, though, in regards to my recent behavior, was that the plane was landing. At least, that's how I explained it to Sarah.
Most of the time when you're in an airplane, you know you're headed somewhere and are able to prepare to land. You're very aware that you're going to be hitting the ground soon, and so the captain tells everyone to sit down, buckle their seat belts, and put away anything that may disrupt the landing process. You can look out the tiny window pane and actually watch as buildings drift closer and closer.
But even with all the preparation and cautionary steps; even when you've mentally, physically, and (I guess) emotionally prepared yourself for the landing and know you're going to be just fine, there's still something unnerving about the moment the wheels touch the ground.
So I think that's kind of where I am. I'm not in an actual airplane, so the moment where the wheels touch the ground actually lasts a little longer than a few minutes in life. But I'm not completely stressed or doubtful about where I am or where I'm going. I may be just a little extra sensitive or slightly insecure about the decisions I made to take certain flights with unknown destinations.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Today, like many days.
It's not my birthday. It's not Christmas. It's not the weekend. I haven't been physically or emotionally hurt. No one sent me any random cards, letters or packages in the mail. No one gave me flowers. No one treated me to a meal. I'm pretty sure someone has prayed for me today even if they didn't tell me they did. Even if no one did, it wouldn't matter. I'm not fishing for compliments. I don't feel lonely. I don't feel overwhelmed. I don't feel like I'm missing out on something in life. I haven't had a deep, thought-provoking conversation. I don't think I've necessarily grown closer to anyone or further away from those already close to me. No one gave me extra spending money. No one gave an anonymous large donation to my ministry. No one has given me an encouraging word. No one offered me a ride to places I need to go. No one gave me advice. I'm not sick. I'm not depressed. I'm not apathetic. I care - about people, about strangers, about issues, about myself, about my responsibilities. No one has poured out their heart to me. No one has asked how I'm doing and genuinely cared about the answer. No one has entrusted me with a secret. I've ruined my own surprises for the week, but I'm not upset about it...anymore. I spent more money than I would have liked this month. I don't feel pressured by anyone. I don't feel constrained or restricted or bound to someone else's expectations. It's beautiful outside, but even if it wasn't, it wouldn't matter. I'm not having a good hair day, but it's not a bad hair day either. No one switched around their schedule for me. No one went out of their way to do something for me. No one has gone out of their way to reach me. No one told me they needed me. No one asked for my help. No one wrote on my Facebook wall, commented on my photos, or liked my Facebook status. No one told me they read my blog. No one texted me. No one told me they thought of me when they heard this song or read this book or talked to this person. I don't feel beautiful but I don't feel ugly. I don't feel like a failure. I've been working hard but I don't feel like I've been working hard enough. I feel lazy. I feel productive. I feel accomplished and I feel like there's much more to get done. I'm not looking for someone's approval. I don't need a hug, but they are welcomed. I'm not settling. I am not satisfied with the way the world is. I am serving my family and my friends as best as I humanly can. I hope for the best and plan for the worst. I have many questions without answers but I'm okay with never knowing them. No one has showered me with compliments. No one has recommended the perfect outfit for me. No one has broken my heart. No one has played with my heart. No one left me post-its with nice notes written on it. No one showed up on my doorstep unexpectedly. I'm not looking for attention from strangers, from men, from my friends or my family. I didn't have a spectacular bonding experience with anyone. There's a pimple on my forehead that won't go away. I'm not fond of rejection, but I'm not fearful of it. I'm more open to fast changes in life than I would have been five years ago. I believe in the little things and appreciate the big things. I haven't worked on a song in so long or written a blog post in a few days. I'm not famous and don't really strive to be. I don't need fans or popularity. I don't need people to follow me on Twitter or this blog. I don't have a routine or a lot of structure right now, but my life does not depend on it.
No one told me how much they like me.
No one told me they love me or "showed" me how much they love me.
But I don't need to hear it or see it everyday.
I know that who I am with others is aligned with who I am when I'm by myself.
I know I don't need to carry my burdens on my own shoulders and that I am surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses ready to share those burdens with me.
I know I am loved and that people care deeply about me.
And today, on a boring, ordinary, lovely Tuesday, I feel completely loved.
No one told me how much they like me.
No one told me they love me or "showed" me how much they love me.
But I don't need to hear it or see it everyday.
I know that who I am with others is aligned with who I am when I'm by myself.
I know I don't need to carry my burdens on my own shoulders and that I am surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses ready to share those burdens with me.
I know I am loved and that people care deeply about me.
And today, on a boring, ordinary, lovely Tuesday, I feel completely loved.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
A ratatouille double date.
I used to be that girl that thought double dates were gushy and cheesy. It was probably because I had never been in a relationship before and was half envious that people could even have double dates (doubly rubbing in my face that I was not in one), with the other half of me over-imagining what double dates were like, giving them more weight than the reality needed to have.
When Nathan and I hang out with Will and Kat, it's nice because we were all friends before we started dating so getting together is more like having dinner with friends that just happen to be dating. We're not dating couples that have to try to figure out how to be friends. Nothing has to be formal or awkward. It's pretty sweet.
When Nathan and I hang out with Will and Kat, it's nice because we were all friends before we started dating so getting together is more like having dinner with friends that just happen to be dating. We're not dating couples that have to try to figure out how to be friends. Nothing has to be formal or awkward. It's pretty sweet.
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| Layers of vegetables for ratatouille! |
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| The finished product |
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| Chocolate bowls epic fail |
Yeah...I know. I think I only had one and mostly scraped chocolate off of the tray.
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| Sweet potato fajita night in the McNamara house! |
Oddly, I've been finding that I've beginning to experiment a little more when it comes to cooking. If there's a specific dish I'm trying to make, I'll follow the recipe as closely as possible, but if I'm just trying to figure out something to eat with out having to look a recipe up, I'll just experiment with ingredients and spices and herbs. It's odd because I wouldn't normally do that kind of thing. I guess it just shows how far I've come in the world of possibilities.
P.S. It would've been the perfect end to the night if we actually watched Ratatouille that night, but alas, we didn't have access to the movie. I'm still in the mood to watch it if anyone has it/wants to watch it with me!
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Eggplant Parmesan, the vegetarian solution.
I invited a few friends over for dinner one night during Rosh Hashanah. And as I usually try to do, I asked if anyone had any allergies, cravings, or special requests as I started putting together a menu.
Kit said she was a vegetarian, so at first I tried thinking about what separate vegetable dishes I could make. But then I wondered if there were some easy vegetarian dishes that everyone could enjoy together. I don't know how I came up with this, but I decided to try my hand at eggplant parm from scratch.
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| Sweating out the eggplants' moisture |
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| Who knew eggplant parm was so time intensive? I didn't! |
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| I think this was my favorite part - layering the sauce, eggplant and cheese! |
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| The sweet potatoes and caramelized onions were a hit! |
I'd definitely make the spinach and sweet potatoes again. They were simple and quick to make. I thought the sweet potatoes were pretty unique, too.
And it was a great night of food, friends, and good conversations around the table that I hope will happen again in the future.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Last of my summer food endeavors.
As summer has drawn to a close (not officially, but you know), my journey as someone practicing her survival skills of learning how to "fish" has not.
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| Grilling chicken on my mom's George Foreman grill |
George Foreman grills always remind me of Ali, my apartment housemate from when I stayed in Binghamton for the summer of 2009. She loves her George Foreman grill. We'd make dinner together using that thing quite often.
My mom asked me to make this chicken - it was super easy. Just mix in some ingredients for the sauce for the chicken to marinade in for a few hours, and then pop 'em on the grill for about 3 minutes each side.
I made some string beans and rice to go with it, and since I'm not a huge fan of eating or making a salad (for some reason I really dread the idea of putting together a salad, even though it's super easy and you can get really creative with them), my mom had some extra tomatoes and cucumber slices leftover that we used as an almost-caprese (there's supposed to be slices of mozzarella cheese instead of cucumbers) instead of a regular lettuce salad.
Love it - super simple, good flavors, super quick. Too bad I don't actually own a George Foreman grill to make food with.
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| Chocolate caramel cookies for my favorite driving teacher |
These cookies were definitely an endeavor - I had never made any cookies with a filling before, nor have I ever baked with caramel. But I've been meaning to bake something for my awesome friend Michelle, who, besides being super wonderful and super talented in general, also allowed me to have her as the first person to ever teach me to drive.
It's a cool recipe - you mix walnuts into the batter and refrigerate it before covering a caramel candy into a ball of dough. I actually made a mistake and found that I was supposed to buy chocolate covered caramel candies instead of plain old caramel candies, so I was worried it was going to mess things up. Michelle loves caramel! But alas, it was too late and so I figured I'd try it and see if they'd make any big difference.
The first batch of cookies ended up giving a sticky birth to the caramels out of the bottom of the cookies, so I cut the caramel pieces in half and tried to do a better job of covering the caramels and that seemed to work a little better for the last few batches. I think they turned out pretty well!
Unfortunately I made these cookies the weekend big, fat, Hurricane Irene came through town, scaring the heck out of NYC and NJ. I took a risk of baking during the brink of the storm, using the oven with the chance that the power could go out, but they survived, so I feel like I should actually call these babies hurricane cookies.
And since I was moving just after the storm hit, I didn't get to send these out to her until a few days after I'd made them. Sorry they weren't as fresh as they could've been, Michelle!
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| Irish soda bread for my 'last meal' at home |
I love my mom's corned beef, cabbage, potatoes, carrots, and soda bread dinners that we usually have every year on St. Patrick's Day. She decided to make it this past weekend, though, thinking that since I wouldn't be around, we'd share our St. Patrick's meal together before I left. She asked me, though, to make the soda bread. And I told her it was my honor and pleasure :]
I actually made soda bread for the first time up at Binghamton last semester during my senior year. It was made with whole wheat flour, though...so cool. I didn't use whole wheat flour for this loaf, though. So I think it's called soda bread because when you make the dough, you add baking soda to the flour mixture so that it reacts with the ingredients and bubbles before adding it to the rest of the ingredients. So cool.
Also, while this was baking I was watching Gilmore Girls with Pam and about 30 minutes into the episode I jump out of her bed saying, "Oh no, oh no, oh no! I forgot to scour the bread!" panicking to my mom, hoping the soda bread would turn out all right. In a teasing tone my mom said, "Oh no, you forgot to let the Devil out!"
As you can see from the picture, the soda bread turned out all right. My mom thinks I probably should have baked it a few minutes longer so it's a little firmer, but other than that, it was pretty delightful. I would have included a picture of my full St. Patrick's Day last supper, but I didn't arrange the plate in a way that looked appealing at all, so I decided to leave it out. Maybe next time I'll share a picture of my own St. Patrick's Day meal!
In case you couldn't tell, the experimenting won't stop here. It's been a good summer and I'm looking forward to cooking more!
Monday, May 30, 2011
The Staten Island Ferry is FREE, people.
If my life was represented in newspaper form, the headline would go something like this:
The Staten Island Ferry is FREE!
Tammy spends entire day taking an adventure out to Staten Island without making a dent in her wallet.
Apparently everyone knew I went down to Staten Island on Saturday, and almost no one knew the Staten Island Ferry was free.
"The Staten Island Ferry is free??" Sam said, as our family was driving over to the Yees' house for a BBQ that night. "Ooh, maybe Hai-xin and I could go down to ride it, just because it's free."
"I can't believe the Staten Island Ferry is still free," my dad said, who was part of the minority that already knew the Staten Island Ferry was free. "That thing costs money to run it."
"Well, it's not the safest ride in the world," my mom said. "But I didn't know the Staten Island Ferry was free. I still remember when it was five cents."
"It hasn't been five cents for a long time, Fay," my dad said.
"But guys, we took the Staten Island Ferry when the Navajos were here that summer. And it was free," I said.
"I didn't know it was free. I thought we always paid," my mom said.
My grandma started talking in Chinese.
"Mom says she thought the Staten Island Ferry was five cents also," my mom translated for us.
I just sighed.
Then we got to the Yees' house.
"How was the trip down to Staten Island today?" Uncle Dex said, turning over some chicken on the grill.
"It was okay," I answered. "I didn't trust Google and took the wrong train, but the weather was nice and the whole thing wasn't too bad at all. I liked riding the Ferry." I walked up the stairs to the backyard porch.
"I heard you went down to Staten Island today," Auntie Di said.
"Did you know the Staten Island Ferry was free?" my mom asked.
"Really? I always remembered it being 25 cents," Auntie Di answered.
"25 cents? I thought someone said it was five cents," Pam said.
My dad grumbled. "No, the Staten Island Ferry is free. It's always been free."
I went to church on Sunday and after service Uncle Dave walked up to me and said, "Hey, I heard you went to Staten Island on Saturday. That's a long trip!"
I stopped myself from rolling my eyes and wondered if he could tell from my face that I thought it was so bizarre how he knew I went to Staten Island. "Yeah, it really wasn't too bad at all. Hey, did you know the Staten Island Ferry was free?"
Well, people, the Staten Island Ferry is free. Now you know.
It was my first time going out there on my own (not that I went to Staten Island much in my lifetime), so I printed out Ferry schedules, Staten Island bus schedules, and Google maps to make sure I knew where I was going. I didn't listen to Google maps, which told me to take the 4 or 5 train down to Bowling Green and walk to the Ferry terminal because from my past experience I thought the 1 train was more direct and closer, which was true, except they closed down the train after 14th street for some reason. So I had to get out, walk to Union Square and humbly took the 4 train down the rest of the way. Then I took the Staten Island Ferry and then took a bus to the church. All it cost me was three hours getting there and two and a half getting back. I used Pam's unlimited MetroCard for all the buses and trains, and as you now know, didn't need anything for the Staten Island Ferry.
The weather was super nice, and I read a book and as an awesome introvert that likes to process things in her mind, enjoyed the whole trek out there on my own. I didn't realize the extent of how long it actually took me until Joanna said that I could've gotten to Binghamton in the time it took me to get from Queens to Staten Island. That was weird to think about.
I didn't really get lost, either. And I figured I'd probably never make the trip out to Staten Island by public transportation ever again. I only did it for Rachel. She's been a good friend - the least I could do was make it to her bridal shower.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Don't expect anything profound from this post.
I got to hold baby Emma today! I regret not getting a picture with her. She's the 1-year-old of our College and Career Fellowship's Advisor, Scott. I was so excited to see her because I haven't held a little one in so long (more excited to see her than my peers whom I haven't seen/talked to in a while). I've talked with elementary schoolers and babysat toddlers within the past year or two, but I haven't just held a baby in so long.
It felt so nice. I miss holding babies.
I didn't get a picture with her, but I snagged some pics from her mom's Facebook.
She's also the one Pam & Libby say looked just like me when I was a baby. When I get some baby pics of me I'll put some up side by side and you can judge for yourself.
Isn't she SO CUTE?!
Monday, May 23, 2011
"Unto the breach"
Whenever the thought of going through my graduation ceremonies came to mind, I had the attitude of dragging my feet. I didn't really care about the pomp and circumstance, and I would think about how much I would rather be at Basileia as an induction into the InterVarsity staff world and witness first-hand how God would move and change my chapter.
I subconsciously tried to drag out my stay as an undergraduate that I did such a poor job of packing up my things. I packed everything really slowly and didn't really label or separate my belongings that well. My family had to make two trips out to my apartment to drop off my stuff before packing up the car with the rest of my things for the summer, and my mom packed up a drawer of mine that I hadn't touched while we went to do that. She did it without me asking her to, but I was frustrated that that was the first time I've ever needed help packing.
But instead of dragging my feet through this weekend, I instead had these
feelings of loss and gain, which I guess is expected. I've already been in the process of detaching myself mentally and emotionally, so it didn't really hit my like a ton of bricks, but it wasn't really so much of a sadness of loss of friends or experiences. It was more of a loss of the potential. Usually at the end of the
semester or the end of the year I would assess what goals I had not accomplished and knew exactly what I wanted to work on for the next time, taking into consideration the changes and factoring in the sense of expecting the unexpected as well. The loss of potential marks that there's more to factor in with expecting the unexpected. It's a little less structured and familiar. I have a small idea what I'd like life to look like, but chances are it'll be just different from what I picture. I don't feel sad or feel like I'm losing my friends - it just looks like our roles in each other's lives will look different.
With the sense of gain, I'm ready and completely excited for the adventure of life. Even though I'm hitting uncharted territory, I'm not completely wandering. God has blessed me completely throughout these past four years and has led me to the next steps in my life. I look forward to taking on new roles and exploring what God has in store for me.
Graduation has definitely brought me to a huge sense of gratitude. So big in fact, that I wouldn't even know where to begin thanking people.
I am super grateful that Libby & my grandma came up with the rest of my family to be a part of my graduation. I haven't really appreciated my grandma that much until recently in the last few years. She understands a lot more than you think she does, and it's awesome how she's able to get around at her age. And she's just really cute. She doesn't speak much English, but when she does it's really funny and just makes you smile. Even when my mom or someone in my family translates what shes talking about, it makes you smile, too. You don't need translators or language to understand how much she cares about you and how much she wants to know more about your life.
I went up to her apartment to drop her off and she gave me a card and said, "I'm very happy. You make me very happy. You make me very, very happy." I couldn't have asked for anything more :]
I am so exhausted. I'll probably tackle my mess a little later today. I decided to watch an episode of Gilmore Girls, the one where Rory graduates from Yale. The seventh/final season of GG isn't very good at all, and I'm not a huge fan of Rory's character or Alexis Bledel's acting throughout the series (particularly this season), but it seemed appropriate since I seem to be identifying with Rory in some ways recently.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Hard conversation.
Sometimes I don't like crying because people think they know what I'm crying about when really, they have no idea. And I'm not in a place where I can tell them what I'm actually crying about.
I don't even really know how to describe it here. I was just talking to a friend I care deeply about today, and our discussion raised so much sadness in me about so many things so quickly that crying pretty much caught me off-guard. I didn't know what else to say.
It was one of those times where if I had a holding cross, I'd be squeezing it tightly in my hand.
People in the road forming a picket line
Want the world to know they're here
Trying to make their message clear
I honk for peace and hear them cheer
Watch them smile from my rearview mirror
Keep on driving, just pass on by
I'll honk again at the next sign
It's hard to face reality, so I'll just keep on dreaming
It's plain to see we don't have the answers
But we think we know, and so it goes
It's plain to see we don't have it together
But we think we know, and so it goes on
Students in the green arms intertwined
Candles lit, swaying side to side
Show the world that we're aware
But we're not going anywhere
I can't remember which petition I signed
But I sleep pretty well each night
Knowing that I've done my share in showing everyone I care
It's hard to face reality, so I'll just keep on dreaming
It's plain to see we don't have the answers
But we think we know, and so it goes
It's plain to see we don't have it together
But we think we know, and so it goes on
But while we're standing in the streets
They're fighting off disease
I'm in the comfort of my bed
Not dealing with a shred
Of this war between nations and this war against nature
It's a battlefield that I've never seen
It's plain to see we don't have the answers
But we think we know, and so it goes
It's plain to see we don't have it together
But we think we know, and so it goes on
And so it goes on
O must it go on
--Dreaming of Peace, by Jenny & Tyler
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Cherry on top.
I wanted to write a post two days ago but I was still trying to figure out what it was that I wanted to say, how I could identify what was going on in my head, and how I could share that here.
On Monday I had lunch with an old friend from high school (wow, I can't believe I'm old enough to actually say that I had an old friend). We get together occasionally when I'm on break and come home. He's one of those people from high school I have found that makes the occasional effort to reach out to me to meet up and actually follow through with it, even if I didn't first reach out to him. It's something I've appreciated about him. This time, though, I had the chance to initiate with him.
Usually I'm wary about meeting up with high school friends because I feel like I sometimes let myself get poured back into the mold and placed on a pedestal of perfection that people in high school so often put me in. I'd soak up the glory without pointing back to God, who is the source of why I was the way I was in high school and why I am the way I am today.
But this time it felt slightly different. Maybe it was because I prayed differently than I normally would before meeting up with old high school friends. Maybe it was because of how God has working in my heart at this point in my life. Maybe it was because of just where my friend was in his life. Who knows?
It seemed like my friend was still his same old self, or trying to be, but at the same time he seemed more defeated. I could tell he's getting weary of fighting the world and fighting himself. I could see it even though he was trying to cover it. My heart was breaking deeper than the other times we've met up and deeper than our friendship during high school.
He wanted to fill a deep void and was looking in all the wrong places. Names and faces of so many others who were doing the same on college campuses flashed through my mind.
I don't even remember half of what I asked him or said in my response to his questions. All I know is that the least I could do was to be completely honest - no God-censored, self-centered answers - and pray.
"Are you happy? You seem happy," he said to me at some point while we were walking to a bakery for dessert.
His question and observation struck me. I had not used the word "happy" to describe myself for a really, really long time (until one time recently), I think because I found when I was younger that I didn't want to pursue something like happiness that was so fickle and only came around like a fair-weather friend. I wanted to pursue something deeper and richer and deeply satisfying that would sustain me no matter what the weather of my life was like. I've been spending a lifetime pursuing the pure joy, peace, hope and love that only Christ can give. Happiness didn't even matter. It was just a bonus if it ever came around.
"I'm not happy all the time," I told him. "But I'm content whether or not I'm happy."
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Mish-mash of thoughts from the past week.
You're love never fails.
"Seek first the kingdom of God and all these things will be added unto you."
I love Libby.
What a crazy weekend.
Just give it time, it's gonna get better. Now is not forever at all.
I took about 10 steps outside my building without shoes on April 5th and my feet were dying - I can't even begin to imagine what those kids go through every single day.
I'm employed.
Dreaming all the time - it's not foolish.
I am constantly drawn to my knees in prayer in the presence of a holy God.
Detachment.
Life-changing decisions. Key word, "changing."
I can't wait to get started with fundraising.
You give the healing and praise our hearts always hunger for.
Awesome - my friend from my Urbana small group is also coming on staff with me.
I do not have to walk through life alone.
"When we say, 'It's not fair' or 'Life isn't fair,' what we're really saying is, 'I'm not getting what I want.'"
God has been ever faithful. I just look at all the beautiful things He has done in my life and think, "How could I not be thankful?"
There may be pain in the night, but joy comes in the morning.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Coming home from NYCUP
I got home and planned on taking an hour-long nap, which is extremely absurd if you know me, a dedicated 20-minute-power-napper, but considering I had only gotten an approximate 25 total hours of sleep this week, I figured it would be necessary.
I almost felt like Rip Van Winkle waking up 2 1/2 hours later. That's a record for me.
Anyway, I traveled home on the subway and bus with KTai and Kenzie from the end of our adventure participating in New York City Urban Project's (NYCUP) Spring Break Plunge today. We were talking a bit about different things - some about our experience, some about our thoughts, and some about random stuff - but as I was talking to them there was one thing I realized I needed to process.
I wondered about some of the ways I would need to bring back what I've learned from the Bowery Mission family. I told KTai and Kenzie I knew it would be harder to bring to campus because although some may disagree, I now believe it's usually harder to connect to college students than it is to connect to those who are homeless. I call the Bowery Mission family because they treat us like we're family. I've only interacted and engaged with some of them for just one or two meals, and yet they were so open to telling me about their stories and their history - even though they've gone through so much pain and hardships. With college students, we're so quick to put up fronts, pretend we're okay when we're not, or hide our vulnerability behind intelligence, achievements, excuses, and strength...whatever you can think of.
It's harder to reach through to someone who's unwilling to share their real stories because they don't believe they have anything worth sharing. It's different for people who are willing to share their real stories when they feel like they've got nothing left to lose.
Everyone has something valuable to offer. Being a part of the Bowery Mission family this week affirmed that truth for me.
Hopefully, more to come as I try to unpack the things God has been speaking to me during this week. For now, I gotta catch some more Z's.
I almost felt like Rip Van Winkle waking up 2 1/2 hours later. That's a record for me.
Anyway, I traveled home on the subway and bus with KTai and Kenzie from the end of our adventure participating in New York City Urban Project's (NYCUP) Spring Break Plunge today. We were talking a bit about different things - some about our experience, some about our thoughts, and some about random stuff - but as I was talking to them there was one thing I realized I needed to process.
I wondered about some of the ways I would need to bring back what I've learned from the Bowery Mission family. I told KTai and Kenzie I knew it would be harder to bring to campus because although some may disagree, I now believe it's usually harder to connect to college students than it is to connect to those who are homeless. I call the Bowery Mission family because they treat us like we're family. I've only interacted and engaged with some of them for just one or two meals, and yet they were so open to telling me about their stories and their history - even though they've gone through so much pain and hardships. With college students, we're so quick to put up fronts, pretend we're okay when we're not, or hide our vulnerability behind intelligence, achievements, excuses, and strength...whatever you can think of.
It's harder to reach through to someone who's unwilling to share their real stories because they don't believe they have anything worth sharing. It's different for people who are willing to share their real stories when they feel like they've got nothing left to lose.
Everyone has something valuable to offer. Being a part of the Bowery Mission family this week affirmed that truth for me.
Hopefully, more to come as I try to unpack the things God has been speaking to me during this week. For now, I gotta catch some more Z's.
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