Highways and Hearttrips

I have been on the road home for a while.  The distance from Bozeman to Polson, MT is around 300 miles; which does not sound extraordinarily long.  Yet when I anticipate hugs, soft hugs, and welcome homes, the curves become wider and longer, the hills steeper, and my Blazer engine grows weary. 

God and I have been working through some stuff the last couple years.  I have been learning slowly, how to accept His grace and forgiveness, learning how to back down, how to melt my stubborn heart, and turn my anger, frustration, and distrust into open-heartedly seeking the adventure He prepared for me.

I have been on this road a long time, and I am ready to be home.  The last miles are especially hard.  I reached Missoula, about an hour away from home, but the trip drags on.  My Blazer does not want to drive as quickly as usual.  The interstate once easy to navigate becomes a narrow highway through mountains; the speed limit decreases then increases; the curves narrow and I need to attentively drive.  Although I have driven this before, it does not seem to get shorter.  I don’t know why.  One would think that remembering the landmarks along the way would quicken the journey; that familiarity breeds comfortability, and roads becomes less strenuous.  But it doesn't seem so, and I long for home.

I am getting closer to God lately, too.  Last summer I ended a relationship with someone who was hurting me and dragging me from God.  I am developing a better sense of school and academics; what it means to practice healthy habits and find excellence, and what it means to be overly perfectionist.  I am seeing how excellence is doing best with what God gives me, and investing time into that which gives life.  Putting on hold those I love is not always best, even if it means getting an A.  Not all As mark high achievement.

The miles on my speedometer accumulate, but they go towards good goals.  This last stretch has been particularly hard.  I know home gets closer when the trip starts to get long. 

This last week was really, really hard.  I had a painful and disheartening encounter with an ex who's pastime is bringing me down (which I am learning I cannot fix), school accumulates a test and two large papers next week, only one of which I started.  Then, I got a parking ticket.  The projects and long-time list items I intended to complete over Spring Break didn’t occur, and my parents were weathering a storm together.  More difficult was leading worship for the Kalispell church campus.  Before the service, I had a hard, long fight with someone I love.  And although I was given the blessing of singing with the band, with it came the challenge of adjusting to unfamiliar equipment and team members while holding lingering turmoil.  I was wired up, hearing the talkback and different channels, the click tracks and sound booth directed into my ear, focusing on singing while standing on stage.  The lights shine brightly, my feet are tired, and I am thirsty.  Singing with the team was amazing, to worship God amidst the rainstorms and chaotic traffic in my life, but hard.  My timbre seemed to have lost its spark.

I know I am getting closer to God though, because things are getting hard, getting rough.  The Enemy sees my progress and wants to shut me down.  Right after I finished singing for the service, I accidentally clipped another driver with my Blazer.  It was rainy.  I didn’t even see her coming.  I am getting closer, because things in my life are getting darker and harder, like that final hour before arriving home.  It drags on, because you’re so close and suddenly everything becomes more meaningful, and you want those last miles to finish.  The Enemy sees his opportune moment to strike, using this time of anticipation to bring me down.  He thinks, I need to stop you, because you’re getting close to what I held you back from for so long, what you let me hold you back from. And now you’re pushing past, you’re realizing that my promises are empty. You’re realizing I have sold you more than I can deliver, and I have absolutely nothing to offer. 

Because one thing after another stacked up like dominoes to destroy my courage.  These last hours are real hard, but I know I am getting closer.  I know the Enemy is raining down hard because he intends to stop me from achieving a closer relationship with God.  From knowing God deeper, coming back to the relationship we had when I was fifteen, but this time so much greater and deeper because I experienced some hard, cold, times, and our relationship will be richer for them.

I’m close, but I have time to go.  More could jump out on either side of this road; who knows what the trip might hold.  Lord, give me grace for whatever trials lie ahead, as I push through to knowing You.  I feel myself nearing greater intimacy, greater wisdom in my relationship with You.  Whatever is left to surrender, let me release.  Whatever anger I hold, let me loose.  Getting home is also letting go. 

As I near home I can feel it.  I recognize these fir trees, these road signs.  God, bring me home safely.  I will drive on, as I discover what You long to give me, how You long to know me.  You never promise future highways won't arise, but You promise to accompany me always.  

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love He predestined us for adoption through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace,which he has freely given us in the One he loves." ~Ephesians 1:3-6

Inviting the Unexpected

We shall not cease from exploration.  

And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time. –T.S. Eliot

I was raised on a small farm in the Mission Valley, Montana.  A small creek flowed through the valley that marked our ten acres of forested land, the terrain that was my backyard.  My two sisters and I would routinely adorn ourselves in princess dress-ups, and then set out to explore the “wild wilderness.”  This setting encouraged imaginations to run wild, resourcefulness to develop, and our sisterly bond to strengthen.  We allowed ourselves to encounter the unexpected and surprising, like sighting a spotted fawn or realizing that teepees are best built when fastened together before being raised.  Because our lives were not entirely planned or pre-consumed, space was open for creativity, discovery, and exploration.   

In Sherry Turkle’s Alone Together, she speaks of our current communications and technology culture, and its consuming attributes.  Provocative and compelling, her book stirred in me many realizations, ideas, and intentions.  This paper focuses on one in particular: how technology reduces the incredibly valuable act of exploration.  Often the greatest life lessons, most profound discoveries, best relationships, deepest conversations, and valuable character development come from the unplanned, unmediated, and unexpected occurrences.  Turkle states, on page fourteen:

“(Management consultants) say they used to talk to each other as they waited to give presentations or took taxis to the airport; now they spend that time doing e-mail.  Some tell me they are making better use of their “downtime,” but they argue without conviction.  The time they once used to talk as they waited for appointments or drove to the airport was never downtime. It was the time when far-flung global trams solidified relationship and refined ideas.”

This quote embodies the idea that there is value in unpurposed time; it is often these spaces that lend themselves to the best conversation, interaction, and imagination.  This past week I abstained from Facebook.  Originally I felt a bit isolated; the social media site connects me to my friends and family.  I now had blank spaces in my day.  Once purposed to networking, they were oddly empty.  It was tempting to fill them with a similar replacement, Pinterest, Twitter, Tumblr, etcetera.  Instead I chose to leave them open, and to see what naturally, or perhaps even fatefully, would fill them.  The results included: a spontaneous bike ride with my sister, laundry folded, experimentation with a stir-fry recipe, a phone call to my mother, and a conversation with a fellow student about the wonders of the outdoors.  I would have missed most, if not all, of these experiences had I been intentional not to “waste” time.  In my journal I noted, “It would seem that allowing ‘empty spaces’ in my life grants opportunities for the lovely and unexpected to fill it.” (pg. 6)  When all our downtime is filled with texting, online games, emailing, and networking, we do not leave ourselves open to involuntary beauty and value.  Additionally, we may also neglect our creative potential:     

“By far the number of new ideas occur during a state of reverie…It is a state of mind in which ideas and images are allowed to appear and take their course spontaneously…the creator need[s] to be able to be passive, to let things happen within the mind.” (pg. 272)

            Turkle continues to say that in our connected and highly digitalized life, these moments of stillness are “hard to come by.” (pg. 272)  When we are constantly plugged in, we allow no time for our minds to wander.  Oppositional to this is the argument that we can be highly productive when constantly devoting our minds to tasks, as seen through The Brain That Changes Itself.   This view is not entirely untrue; it is important to stimulate one’s mind.  Anytime we learn, including online, we are engaging our time and attention.  My purpose of this paper, as well as my new personal goal, is not to cease from focused mental engagement, but rather to allow times of “empty space,” to invite the unexpected.  To let our brains be free.   Although we feel the need to be efficient, the paradox is that often the best insights and ideas come during the mental reprieves.  Furthermore, Turkle references a study that linked the value of “downtime” to “maintain[ing] our ability to focus.” (pg. 167)

            My two sisters and I, the “three musketeers” as I named us, did more than just adventure in our woods.  We explored who we were, how we interacted with our environment, and our hopes and goals.  Nothing was off limits for our imaginations.  My three younger brothers now devote major portions of their free time to computer and Wii games.  Certainly their hand-eye coordination is improving, and I do sense camaraderie as they band together to defeat virtual enemies.  What I love more though, is when they build couch-cushion forts, go outside to craft bows from aspen branches, create robots from toilet-paper tubes, or experiment in the kitchen.  Poet, professor, and author Oliver Wendell Holmes said it well: “The human mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions.”

Intimate Communications

For literature class, we were encouraged to write a love letter to a favourite place.  Although love letters are hardly ever privy to the public, here's your sneak peek. (:

To my Beloved Mountain-Top,                                                                                                              September 7^th, 2013

I dearly hope you are well.  How I long to see you again; to experience your grandeur.  When we first met I was fourteen, insecure, and seeking purpose in life.  You paternally looked down upon the summer camp at which I volunteered.  I came to know your presence as authoritative and compelling respect.  Many evenings did I hike the steep slopes that skirted your peak, in search of answers and an atmosphere conducive to meditation.  The circuitous journey to your apex resulted in a wooden cross, faithfully standing amidst sun and storm.  Although the path was lined with shale, intense elevation rises, and the occasional rattle snake, the reward was always worth the effort.  I very often arrived sweaty, with skin darkened from constant beaming sunlight, but you never disappointed. 

Undemanding as you were, you challenged me to dwell on larger aspects of life.  The stark wind that tousled my hair and clothing offered a sense of solidarity, and solitude.  You compelled me to reflect on trust, purpose, my faith, relationships, and God.  Though I was small, you inspired and encouraged in me greatness.  Separate and secluded from others, I had opportunity to interpret the scenery around me.  The looming mountain ranges were my challenges and obstacles in life, the winding Clarkfork River my path through them.  The birds that sounded their voice were in harmony with the peace you emanated, and the quiet whispering of pine needle clusters hinted at the importance of soft-spoken words. 

Though our bond was intimate, you were conducive to additional guests.  The craggy cliffs and shared feeling of exertion facilitated meaningful conversation, conflict resolution, and compassion for the company I occasionally brought.  I once led a group of young girls to your heights; I was their counselor for the week.  They marveled at my knowledge of your paths, and that through crossing rock slides and traversing valleys, we were presented with a glorious view, and sense of accomplishment.  Through these experiences, I had opportunity to draw the connection to life that nearly every struggle and hard experience will result in an unforeseen good, if one has the courage and drive to push through.  The analogy inspired the hearts of a group of nine year old girls, and is still inspiring mine to this day.

Thank you for the grace, the patience, and putting up with my external processing as I talked aloud, and sometimes even released angry shouts atop your summit.  You have been, and always will be a dear friend of mine.  Hopefully once I am finished with school, we can rejoin and celebrate change in life, as well as recall goodness of the past.

Always yours and yours always,

Anjeli Carol D.

...Disguised as Decisions

I hate decisions.  Or perhaps I should say I hate making decisions.  They're stressful, easy to over-analyze, multi-faceted, relational, often money related, risky, and always include the fear of regret.  One must balance their needs and desires with advice from respected others, scripture, and how God is moving in their life.  Trying to reconcile hopes, dreams, and goals with reality, finances, and time factors often scare me away to a point of unhealthy complacency.  The swirling mix of thoughts inside my mind include, but are not limited to:

What if I make the wrong choice?  This could forever alter the completion of my life goals!  I know what I want; it seems so unattainable!  What if I end up broke?  How will I ever afford that?  But I'll miss that person too much!  I could fail that test!  Heaven forbid I get less than an A.  And so on, and so forth until I fall asleep or get lost in a song or find a distraction (read: Facebook.)

Yet, what a blessing it is to have choices.  Many people in my life are trapped, backed into corners and immovable because of circumstances in their life.  Perhaps its debt, or a strict loyalty; a contract, or a health issue.  The summation being, they are not free to make life changes.  What I've come to realize, is that decisions are indicative of freedom.  I have a choice.  Or many, to be precise.  So while I sit here moaning and groaning about how complicated and confusing life is, another may sit wishing that they could change aspects in their life, try something new, take risks and adventure, and be free to pursue their goals.

So, next time I'm bordering on an emotional breakdown over whether to buy the black Old Navy maxi dress at the thrift store that is significantly cheaper than retail price but is also kinda faded and is it just me or does it make me look fat but I also have really been wanting a maxi dress lately and it's sleeveless and I love sleeveless...I'm going to take a deep breath and say "this, is a side affect of this marvelous thing called freedom."