*Disclaimer* The following doesn't even pretend to be quality writing. The blame is to fall on the late hour and the scrambled thoughts. It's basically a contemplative laundry list of things I have discovered this summer, whether they be bits of truth, new obsessions, or revealed characteristics.

1. I really love playing board games and card games with my friends. It's a cheap thrill, sure, and offers no profundity, but I LOVE them nonetheless. My faves so far are: BANANAGRAMS, "golf," Taboo, Catchphrase.
2. Heroes. Superpowers are so legittt. AND since it's on instant Netflix, I don't have to be patient weekly. I am hooked. The end.
3. I don't speak as much Spanish as I thought I did...but a smile is the same in every language.
4. That perhaps God does not intend for us to be happy, but that He created us for joyful praise.
5. That God may be hedonistic...talk to C.S. Lewis and Matt Chandler on this one. Relates to #4. Think about it.
6. The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver.
7. The musical stylings of Feist and Keane.
8. That I'm not always good at being home.
9. That friendship is difficult sometimes.
10. That I can do eye reshaping therapy instead of having to wear contacts or glasses!! woot!
11. That I can find my booklist on bearweb, not blackboard (a rediscovery.)
12. That He is after my heart.
13. That I need a new camera.
14. That I don't really 'need' anything...
15. That you have to fight to hang on to old friendships.
16. That five hours can seem like 10 one day, and 2 the next day.
17. 1/2 cup oil+ 1 cup epsom salt + a bit of essential oil = happy exfoliating stuff.
18. I have very little resolve (another rediscovery.)
19. That going a whole summer without learning your favorite barista's name will leave you with more than a twinge of regret.
20. That I love blue/turquoise nail polish.

off to bed...yet another doctor's appointment in the morning. Yay health insurance!

In His beauty, grace, and light,

goodnight...

There are many subjects weighing heavily on my mind at this moment (in varying degrees. Not all of them, however are weighted appropriately, according to universal significance.)

As the plot progresses, the musician becomes less and less of a mere story opportunity to the reporter. He wants to help him, but when he tries to do so, it seems to backfire. At this point, Lopez is talking with his ex-wife about his frustrating dilemma of trying to fix things, at least make them better, make a difference.

Their conversation goes something like this (though not verbatim, sorry):

Lopez: I’m just trying to help.

Mary: You can’t fix all of L.A., Steve. You can’t cure him. But you can be his friend. You can keep showing up.

And that’s what he does. He shows up. The movie has no conclusive feel, no sensation of tying up the loose ends. The musician, Ayers, isn’t cured of his problems, mental or otherwise. But he has a friend.

Watching this movie brought up feelings that I really started to experience during the spring semester. For whatever reason, my eyes started to open more and more to the true magnitude of suffering in the world. I had experienced pain of my own, and witnessed it here and abroad. But maybe what really started dawning on me was how much there was of it. A sense of responsibility for it and a sense of hopelessness for it was birthed in me simultaneously.

Amidst the craze of activity and schoolwork, this thing throbbed in my head all semester. I went to the Rescue with Invisible Children and part of me wondered what it was that we were accomplishing, other than raising awareness and funds. I’ve had several conversations with friends about whether or not it’s even worthwhile to try to help people across the globe, especially when your neighbor is hurting, too.

I know I can’t cure the whole world. Shoot, I can’t cure a single person. I mean, I know Who can, but that still leaves me with responsibility of action. And where to act? And how? I don’t feel at this point that He’s calling me away towards something in this direction (of what? Activism? Social work? )…I don’t even know what that would be. Maybe someday. 

I guess right now, I’m focusing on doing what I can, where I can. I guess what I’ve decided for myself is to show up. To be a friend. To share love. And God knows it’s hard sometimes, all the time. (And frankly, I suck at it. No, really, I do. I know my own heart. ) But I want to do things with the opportunities that I’ve found, with things like Invisible Children, Falling Whistles, One, To Write Love on Her Arms, and the rest of the myriad of sometimes-too-trendy organizations that have been thrown my way.

My head still spins with wanting to solve everything more conclusively, and I struggle with thinking that this is not enough, and that maybe I am doing this just because it is a cool, right thing to do. (read this for more insight into this thought process. It's worth the read) But for now, it’s my way of showing up.

Other than that, I will attempt to let Christ work through me to love the people around me: my friends, my family, my classmates, and my new residents in the fall. My prayer is that the treasure of His love will fill this broken shard of pottery to the measure—and overflow to His glory. (2 Cor. 4 & Eph 3)

I fail at this. All the time. Every day. But I also hope for His grace to be sufficient, and His power to be made perfect in my weaknesses. (2 Cor. 12:9)

Now if only I can figure out how to actually accomplish this in my life.

Anyways. Here are a few amazing quotes that have contributed to my thinking and feeling, but that I am not clever enough to incorporate smoothly:

“If God’s description of what true praise constitutes is a ‘living praise,’ and if a ‘living praise’ is to embody the things that God is concerned with…a responding to the covering of our fall by Christ…a flesh of the concerns of God, then our living must bring rescue from the trampling boot. Justice will be our concern because it is God’s concern. And what is it that causes this to well up in us? It is His unrelenting love. This is praise—taking care of everyone in time of need. It is picking up those who are marginalized and whose voices are unheard and saying, “Look! Look!” Not in calculated ways to improve our perceived spiritual standing but because it is in us. His unrelenting love has consumed us and when we see need there seems no alternative but to respond to the fluid movements of this redeeming covering on Christ. To feel color flood back in and our heart lift from the ground with soaring dreams of the very living, breathing kingdom of God under our feet.” –David Crowder, Praise Habit

"Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly. 

We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love…We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home." 
   --Jamie Tworkowski, To Write Love on Her Arms 

 

As my fbook status proclaims, my dentist is a Baylor Alum. Today he talked about the pre-BSB days of having science classes in MMsci, living in Penland, and marrying a NoRo girl. (Of course, ha ha.)

Made me a little Baylor-sick. Mostly I'm just thrilled to be here (or there, rather.) Every once in a while, I stop and think about my road to Waco--how at first, I wanted to be out of Texas, then, just NOT at Baylor (I was so adamant!) Then, winter premiere. Still not sold. But I never wanted to apply anywhere else. And every time I imagined myself as a college student, those big trees and Old Main towers just seemed to be in the backdrop. Still, I said no.

But my mom made me accept as a precaution I guess, and I was so annoyed the day that "I know where I'm going" shirt came in the mail. I kept it in the package and stuffed it in the back of my closet. I can't even pinpoint what I thought I wanted then. It took God softening my heart to listen to Him again (facilitated by an IHOPrayer trip :))

It wasn't a big realization. It just happened, like the words came out before I knew they were true: "I'm going to Baylor."

That shirt came out of the package and here I am.

craziness is running around between my ears.

for no real reason, I guess. Just pensive.

anyways.

I believe my family thrives on distraction. distraction from difficult questions, from things on the ominous to-do list, from each other, from worries, from phone calls, from...more things I can't think of.

which explains why we keep hitting the "next" button on Netflix, to watch one more episode of CSI: New York. or two. or three.

this also helps to explain the root of my procrastinating nature and facebook addiction. There is no "doer" in my blood. Just look at my family. sometimes, I can see this as a good thing--I comfort myself by saying that I am more chill than people who always have to have a project, that I have an easier time of being in the present moment, and that I am more Mary than Martha. But I also have difficulty accomplishing things. And it does, in fact, bother me.

[half an hour later]

my blogging was happily interrupted by a witching-hour phone call from my BFF bestie. A random, catching-up phone call. always fun.

but now I can't remember much regarding what I was so contemplative about. maybe it's for the best. it's late.

I did want to end, however, with this list of books stacked on my desk, all of which I would like to read before the end of summer. ambitious to say the least, and there are actually more on my must-read list than on my desk

The Joyful Christian by C.S. Lewis

Say You're One of Them by Uwem Akpan ("ANOTHER Africa book?" my mother asked.)

Questions About Angels by Billy Collins

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott

Story by Steven James

Rocket Boys by Homer Hickam, Jr.

Captivating by John and Stasi Elderidge (again)

Cry, the Beloved Country by Alan Paton

oh, and the Bible by...Jesus? (ha, just kidding. but not about reading the Bible.)

and to add to the sortofrandomness, I leave with what I think I have decided to be my life verse. perhaps.

"I pray that our of His glorious riches he may srengthen you with power through
His spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through
faith. And I pray that you may...grasp how wide and long and high and deep is
the love of Christ--and to know this love that surpasses knowledge--that you may
be filled...with all the fullness of God." --Eph. 4:16-19

I just can't think of a better thing to pray for than a real, present knowledge of His love. I think that maybe after that, the other things we might pray for in ourselves would fall into place.

So my dad was rushed to the ER last night, for causes we still don't know.

So, I'm going to be a stereotypical cog in this 21st-century clock that