To every poet...

To every poet who has wandered...

To every poet who has felt pain and heartache...

To every poet who has felt exhilarating joy...

To every poet who does not believe he or she carries the beauty of art...

...you are a fantastic poet. You are a majestic work of creation, carrying the mark of a Father throughout every corner of your world. You breathe life and love with your smile, your thoughts, and your wanderings. Do not let your poem be stolen.

My poem sometimes feels dark and miserable. I know I am not alone in this. Staring out the window, watching happy people walk by, as they bravely face the world with courage, a flawless smile, and an attractive coffee cup. Where is my poem?

My poem is a representation of true humanity: it is broken. I get lonely, I get depressed, I get self-focused, I get tired, and I lose my art. I question my choices, my beauty, my ability to create, my career, and my worth. This is what happens when you try to make art without an Artist. My poem tries to come out, and it comes out awkward, stumbling, without rhyme or reason. My poem is lost.

And this is where the plot twists.

When you let go of the need for perfect art, you truly accept beauty. You begin to be truly comfortable with your poem, to allow it to grow, succeed, and bloom. The darkness and misery gets chased away by truth, light, and grace. It turns into a beautiful, child-like faith. Your poem begins to rhyme, to have a reason.

What is your poem?

It's in the wine you drink. It's in the words you say to your closest friends. It's in the comfort you give your coworker. It's in the moments that come without words. It's in the people you watch, twirling by with their magnificent coffee cups. It's in the shy touch of first lovers and the comfortable space of lifelong love. It's in the words you read. It's in the smile you bring. It's in the steps you take outside when you could have stayed home. It's in the bravery to speak, to love, to be present without hindrance. It's in the air. It's in the sky and the snowflakes. It's in the blades of grass that move with the wind. It's in the sidewalk that carries the hopes, dreams, downfalls, and discouragements of millions of people. It's in the familiarity of friends and family. It's in the strange bravery of a new job or a new school.

Your art is everywhere. Stop keeping it inside. Stop trying to make it perfect. Let your art shine from within.

Let your poem be read.

new chapters.

Welcome back! It's been a little less than a year since my last post. So sorry to disappoint. Writing has fallen to the bottom of my priority list this last year.

What has inspired its return, you may ask? Yep, that's right, school started. and when school starts, you find anything and everything to do except homework.

Things have changed a little bit since we last talked. In the last week, I have (1) moved out of the house I've lived in my whole life, (2) started my first year as a full-time student, (3) began my career as a dental hygiene student, and (4) started at the prestigious University of Michigan, which just so happens to be the top dental school in the nation right now.

Ah, yes. All those fancy words really mean "extra homework" and "stricter rules" and "more work requirements than other schools" etc. etc. etc. All in all, it means that I don't have a social life anymore, and I pretty much spend all day in class. woohoo.

Highlights of my first week here, at the University of Michigan:

1. Spent 7 hours (one day) in a basement classroom with no windows.
2. Successfully made my own spaghetti for one.
3. Sprinted to the bus stop twice.
4. Did NOT get lost, hooray!
5. Found a great smoothie/ice cream joint nearby the dental school.
6. Contemplated my new sedentary lifestyle and seriously considered trying to do all my homework standing up for the purpose of saving my back muscles.
7. Visited with my aunt and uncle and showed them my new home.
8. Ran 4 miles in some dank humidity.
9. Began working clinic hours on "Barbara", my fake tooth simulation.
10. Had my first "I'm so tired that I need to do something other than school for a few hours" breakdown.

It's been a great week. It really has. Tomorrow is the last day of my first week here at dental hygiene school. I'm nervous, excited, happy, worried, and loving every moment of it. It's really a great school, a great program, and an all-around happy time.

I'm learning techniques and instrumentations that I never knew existed!! Who knew that your dental hygienist had to learn so many techniques and terms. This is just the beginning of a long journey. I'm excited. Stay tuned! :)

home.

They say that home is more than just a building and walls, and that is right and true. There are people that build your life more than any building could. I feel like I've always known that. True, there are irreplaceable people who build a home.

But today, I had one of those touchy-feely-melancholy moments listening to that country song where I realized, these brick walls really will be missed. Somehow I form attachments with this structure. With this house, this little spot of ground in the world that my parents call their own. I've formed an irreplaceable attachment with this building. How strange... 

Ma'am I know, you don't know me from Adam.

But these handprints on the front steps are mine.

And up those stairs, in that little back bedroom,

Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar.

And I bet you didn't know under that live oak,

My favorite dog is buried in the yard.

I never put too much stock in Miranda Lambert except for this song. This once where she goes back to her childhood home and can't get over how much of herself is still there.

I stepped back today and realized how much of myself is here, in this four-walled brick home that I was brought to when I was only three days old. how can you spent twenty years in one spot and not form some sort of bond?

because, yes, I did all my homework in that back bedroom. And yes, that backyard is home to my favorite swing and my childhood pet. And yes, that is where I built forts and snowmen and hideaways. There in the yard is where that giant tree was cut down, years ago. That uneven patch is where the dog would dig underground fortresses. Yes, that is the house where we cried our hearts out and laughed our hearts back in. That is the room where we gathered to celebrate every birthday, every Christmas, every Easter. That is the spot where an Easter egg was hidden every year. 

I can show you every creak in the floorboard to avoid when you come home at midnight to a quiet house. I can show you every door that squeaks and every quirk of the faucet and every dip in the basement floor. I can show you the dark, drafty basement room where monsters lived, when I was little, of course. I can show you where all the Christmas decorations are hidden and where Dad's old workbench is rid with cobwebs.

I will never forget the outline of the backyard  trees against the sky. They form a specific pattern. I have woken up to that pattern every morning for twenty years. 

This is the most sappy thing I have ever said, but it is true: I think I will actually cry when the giant maple tree in the backyard disappears. That will always be the best tree-swing tree in the whole world. It's where I fell off and skinned my elbow when I was five. It's where I swung back and forth for an hour when I was nine, making up stories to fill the time. It's where I confessed all my secrets to my best friend when I was eleven. It's where the lawnmower always hit the swing, every time I mowed the lawn when I was seventeen.

That spot in the lawn where the grass is yellow, there used to be a pool there. When I was younger, I tried to push my older brother in, giggling mischievously. Only mere minutes later, I was thrown in by the same brother.

That is where my graduation tent was. That is the spot where our dog caught a chipmunk. That is the place where I dropped my keys in a very tiny hole in between the house and the steps and had to call someone to get them out for me. That is the window that my dad broke when we were locked out of our house. (Which may or may not have been my fault. :) )

There is the tree that blooms every Easter, where we took family pictures for years. There is the spot on the concrete where my brothers and I spilled oil the first time each of us did our first oil change. Right there is the window that you can climb in and out of when you're locked out of the house.

Sometimes I feel like George Bailey from It's a Wonderful Life when he runs down the steps and the end of the stair banister twists off. every. single. time that he comes down the stairs. It annoys him every time, and finally climaxes to his frustration at "this old, drafty house." 

But then, at the end of the movie, when  realizes the importance of his family and his home, he comes home and says "Hello, you wonderful old, drafty house!" with much more fervor and enthusiasm. He twists off the banister and shouts with joy. Why? Because that is his home, and if it's home, then the people he loves are inside. 

Here's the thing I love about this house: it's home. and it will always be home, when I'm forty and I bring my children here. when I'm sixty and my kids have their own homes. when I'm eighty and this home probably won't exist anymore. it will still be home. always. 

this is a beautiful, beautiful place.

dear sisters:

it's beautiful. every bit is beautiful. The steps you take upon the wet pavement and the tenacity of your soul. Your unmanageable hair and your optimistic spirit. The words in your head and the speed of your heart. The spot on your thumb where your pencil creates a callous. The same mundane path across campus that you travel every day. The mole on your face that's been there since birth. The mismatched socks and the trouble you receive for being a lover of God. The alarm that you've snoozed five times and the breakfast that you skipped because you were late. The polka dot dress that adorns your frame and the friendly sweatpants that stayed with you through many challenges.

it's so beautiful. I know you don't see it that way, but that is the way it is seen by your Father. every step on your unique path, and every stubborn hair that returns to its original place, and every time you burst into tears for the tiniest reasons: it is all held in the hands of a perfect Creator.

Every tear you shed is kept in His bottle. Nothing about you is wasted. Nothing goes unnoticed, left by the wayside, forgotten, hindered. He doesn't brush away your problems. They are not insignificant to Him. They are priority for Him because you are priority. There is nothing too large for Him, and nothing too shocking for Him.

In your simple routine, tarry a while longer to meditate on this glorious thought: "Earth holds no sorrow that heaven can't heal." (David Crowder.) For nothing is too large or too weighty for Him. His burden is easy and His yoke is light.

You are so very beautiful. Don't feel that you have to prove it in order to be it. You don't have to prove or earn your beauty in order to display it. It has already been proven. The cross so very pointedly proved that you are beautiful. you are worth it. all you must do is seize it, accept it, live it.

Accept love. Allow it in. Let it be. It's okay.

not alone.

Open your eyes. You are not the only student in this classroom. You are not the only one who can't figure it out. You are not the only one who feels like there could be something more. You are not the only person in this life.

Because: the girl across the hall is struggling with homework, too. the guy sitting next to you can't focus on school because his family is splitting up. the odd girl that answers the questions wrong is from a different country and struggles understanding English. the two whispering kids at the back of the class seem so put-together, but are just hiding the hurt that comes from a terrible home life and a fighting family. the autistic guy in class that raises his hand every two seconds and disrupts the teacher is hoping for a fighting chance at real friendship; everyone averts their eyes when he walks by, but he is looking, searching, wanting someone to be real with him. the pretty girl with an array of different colored highlighters is hiding her worsening grades and her disinterested boyfriend. He says he's in love, but his actions speak otherwise.

This goes for real life too: because that homeless guy on the street corner is struggling with his life just as much as the corporate worker can't keep his life together at home. The two teenagers who just broke up a 3-year relationship are as devastated as the wife who just divorced her disinterested husband. They never thought this would happen to them. They just wanted someone to tell them that it's gonna be okay. "This wasn't supposed to happen to me."

Every brokenhearted person that rub shoulders with you today needs hope. Every seemingly happy CEO, every quiet book nerd, every ragged homeless man, every devastated teenage girl, every one you meet: tell them the story of hope. Smile, give a word of love, pray to the Creator that formed their heart, and then continue on your way. Spread that hope everywhere you go.

Don't fall into the rhythm: the quiet, repressive, orderly machine that every other American gets stuck in every day. Don't fall into the hopeless routine. Start anew. spread hope.

spread hope.

spread love.

There's a fight to be won
for the love you find at home
Work to be done
Before you rest your weary bones

I'm finding peace don't come
to everyone I know
So I will love in this life
Until I finally have to go.

Said I will love in this life,
Until I finally have to go.

(Run River North. "Growing Up.")

whirlwind.

it goes so fast. I thought I just updated this blog a few days ago, but it's almost been a month. I don't know why time goes so fast. and I don't know why life marches on, even when I request that it go slower.

it doesn't listen to me. life doesn't, that is. I constantly tell it to shape up. I constantly ask it to be untouched by sadness. I constantly tell it to look fine, to look alright, to not attract unwanted attention. I constantly ask that life stop pushing me so hard and let me be.

but you see, that means I've forgotten something important. it means that I forgot what life is meant for. it is meant as a testimony, and I forgot that. I forgot that my fumbled words and my imperfect actions give glory to someone who works through me in perfect grace. that when I stumble and fall and cry buckets of tears and admit that I'm not fine, that only then can my Father show His mercy.

here is the irony: I ask that my days be easy and quiet. and then I complain that I am bored. I ask that my words be perfect and smooth. And then I complain that I feel fake. I ask that my life be untouched by sadness. and then I complain that I feel untouched by happiness.

because this is life. and living, as God intended it to be, is sometimes unattractively noticeable; sometimes there are burdens and sadness; sometimes there are torrents of imperfect words and torrents of sadness. Because it is these precious moments that give way to moments of beauty, of peace, of gentleness and wisdom.

God makes us a vessel. He gently opens us up, to let His love show a little. And we scream and cry and plug up all the holes; we cover our face and close up our vessel. Don't let anyone see. Don't let anyone see that there is an imperfect being inhabited by a perfect God.

and there is pride. inability to let God show through our weaknesses. God requests this of you, that you let Him inside to change the dark, unknown parts of your soul that no man has ever seen. That you let Him within so that He may shine through.

You cannot yield fruit if you aren't willing to grow a little. to be pruned, tended, gardened. to be watched over by Someone who mended your very soul into existence. come to Him as a child would come: humble, trustful, expectant.

humble.

trustful.

expectant.

you are not alone; you are watched over by God. let Him work through your imperfections.

If I had been a decisive student...

...things would have been different. As I sit in the happily buzzing school cafeteria, watching everyone rush on over to the School Daze student event to get free food, I wonder where I would be right now if I'd done things the "right" way.

If I'd had my own way, then my inclination for adventure and my fear of making "different" decisions would have placed me on a much different college campus several hours away from my familiar stomping grounds. If I'd had my own way, I wouldn't have experienced the providence of God in the most caring, immediate ways that I very much needed. If I'd had my own way, I wouldn't have thrived and grown in exactly the ways that would build me up for life.

God has this way of giving you a giant brain, full of billions of neurons and synapses and thoughts and genes and perceptions and temperaments and ideas and personality traits. He also tends to give you certain turning points in your life when you naively believe that you've completely figured out everything there is to know about your brain and your personality and what you want from life. You feel confident. You know everything there is to know about yourself.

You get into your head that you have it all figured out. You're facing your future like: I know what I want. I want to move away to a small, private college and study science and art and travel the world and get a job after I graduate and not get into a serious relationship until I'm 25 and definitely not get married until almost 30 and never do college and a real career job together because that's too much work.. Because that is me and that is what I want. Right?

Wrong. I sit now a mere ten miles from my childhood home. I never moved out. I never went to a private college. I never traveled the world. I got knee-deep into a pretty serious relationship at age 18. I did college and a real career job at the same time. It wasn't too much work.

I still do all of this. and the greatest secret of all of my hard-planned ideas failing and falling away into the dust is that I am incredibly happy right where I am.

wait.

what?

that's right. It's pretty good right here.

well how did that happen?

Let me tell you how I got to this fantastic place. With (1) complete and total indecision, and (2) virtually zero career options/ideas, and with (3) no ways or means to meet the financial requirements of my far-fetched dreams. I say this only to show that it was not my nobility that got me anywhere. I didn't know what to do. It was my support system, my family, my faith, my friends, that helped me achieve.

I wouldn't recommend these avenues for everyone. In fact, if you know what you want to do, and you have a great career idea, and you have the means of executing that dream successfully, then do it. My point in saying this is that if you're like me and you have no idea, then it's okay. you won't die. you will survive, I promise. you're only 18. there's a whole lifetime of growth and adventure ahead of you.

If you don't know what to do, that's fine. Maybe you just haven't figured it out yet. Maybe you'll know tomorrow, or the next day, or next year. It's okay. You won't be "behind" everyone else who has made their decisions on time and has a 5-year plan. You will be behind if you just naively jump into the college you want, with a random major, with no financial adequacy. You'll burn out pretty quickly and waste a lot of time, resources, and money.

So what if you need a year to figure it out? As long as you work hard, don't give up, and keep pursuing something, then you will be able to succeed eventually.

I took a chance, a really difficult chance. Since I was used to my life of predictability, I wanted to take the next predictable step, which was a trip to a far away college to study liberal arts. Instead, I took the path less traveled. I didn't go to college. I stayed at home and kept working at a terrible, part-time job with the city. There were very little career options there. I had no idea what to do or where to go to school.

At first, I felt like a failure. All of my friends were able to go to school and experience the exhilarating life of college on a new campus with new friends and new activities. Everyone else knew what they were doing. Why didn't I? Why was I stuck in the same spot?

There is, I promise, a redeeming value to this story. That initial step of faith, which feels like failure at first, began to feel like it was right. It slowly began to feel like I wasn't a failure. It began to look like maybe I had made a pretty good choice.

Because when I let go of my "predictable" ways, I was able to take hold of the uncertain, still-growing, developing ways of me and my giant brain. I was, for the first time, able to make choices that were my own. they did not belong to anyone else. they were my own, independent choices.

A good job popped up, out of nowhere. The most caring, respectable, really nice guy popped up, out of nowhere. A great opportunity at a nearby school came to my attention. Yes, out of nowhere.

But yet, it really wasn't completely "out of nowhere." It was out of God's great grace. Within three short months, I had found a career I think I like. I found a school that I really liked. The really nice guy turned out to be a pretty good candidate for a relationship.

My life changed. It is still changing. That is the beauty of freedom in Christ. If I had made my own choices, it would have turned into a much different, less-rewarding story of routine choices and ideas that wouldn't have flourished. It wouldn't have become the enjoyable thing that it has become.

I'm thankful. I'm thankful that I didn't figure it all out. I'm glad that my own selfish ideas didn't work out. That, instead, I learned to thrive in today. That is where I found the love of God. In today, in everything around me, in every student I walk by, in every professor that is stuck in the mundane routine, in every customer that seeks an answer to their problems, in every time I walk this earth with the ones I love. This God is everywhere, and He is working through so many different and unexpected ways.

He worked in my life. He did a work that I could never have done on  my own. He'll work in yours, too. Just be patient, wait, and seek wisdom.