Learning to Stand Out.

     The Internet is a unique beast in the way that it gives us all a chance to present ourselves however we would like to. It's like we all get our own personal reality show, and like most reality shows, the worlds we create are only part of the whole truth. I could say " I am taking a semester off of school to go on a mission trip to Africa" and that would be true. I could also say " I felt like crying for a while today because everyone else was wearing cute dresses and I was wearing pants." That would also be true. Usually I would choose to talk about the first version of reality, but I guess I'm feeling adventurous today because I want to talk about the second one.
     I am pretty new to working in a "business casual" environment, and I have spent more time these past few days than I care to admit trying to figure out how to update my wardrobe from "casual college student" to "capable adult at work". This process has left me with many questions, ranging from, "Since there are overalls for adults, does that mean it's socially acceptable for me to wear them, because I would really love that on casual Fridays!" to, "When did the whole world go from covering every available surface from kitchen walls to dog collars to dresses in a chevron to suddenly being completely over it? And more alarmingly, how did I miss this? How do I get on the "this trend is now over" mass e-mail list?"
     Obviously I am able to find the humor in this superficial dilemma, but behind the jokes there is a past of insecurity. There are painful memories of years of feeling like an outsider who had no place to belong, and a deep fear of not fitting in that has been suppressed but not completely eliminated. Dozens of other people have written about this topic, and it hurts my pride to admit that I am affected by the selfish desire for acceptance when I know that it is not what I should be seeking.
     Today I felt my insecurities from the past start to creep back in, but thankfully I was able to stop them in their tracks because I remembered how exhausting it is to live under the pressure of trying to fit in, and I realized that's not what I want for my life anymore. So I asked myself, What will happen because everyone else was wearing a dress and I was wearing pants? How is that going to affect my life?  Are the fashion police going to come lock me up, or am I just going to be shunned so severely that I have to cross the border and start a new life harvesting maple syrup in the Canadian wilderness? In reality, there was so much going on today that my outfit was the last thing on anyone's mind. I was the only one worried about it, and my worry served no purpose other than causing me unnecessary stress.
     Not fitting in is uncomfortable. Feeling like everyone else is included in something that you missed out on is disappointing. But conformity, while comfortable, is not the lifestyle I feel compelled to live. So, I'll keep fighting this desire for acceptance by reminding myself that there are more important things, and I'll keep reminding myself that while it's satisfying and fun to look nice, it's much more important to actually be nice. After all, no amount of cute outfits can cover up a bad attitude.

The Introvert's Dilemma

     If you know me at all, you've probably pretty easily figured out that I am not an extrovert by any stretch of the imagination. I don't do small talk well, it's hard for me to spend very long talking about the weather or other trivial subjects others can calmly chat about with no problem. I can easily get stressed out in group settings, and I replay conversations in my head after they happen, and stress about how awkward I must have sounded.
      As a Christian, being an introvert poses a unique challenge. It doesn't scare me to go all the way to Africa for a mission trip, but to try to share a personal story in Sunday school or another small group setting makes me stumble over my words and ramble on nervously. I worry sometimes that I must seem odd or even rude when really I'm just thinking things over in my head rather than discussing them with others right away.
     The question that worries me most and makes this more than just a part of my personality is this. Does being an introvert make me a bad Christian? If I don't have an elaborate testimony at the ready 24/7 or if I'm not constantly speaking up about what I believe every chance I get, am I doing something wrong? I've been asking myself these questions recently and I'm not sure I have all the answers yet, but I do have some new insight.
     I'm a big advocate of getting out of your comfort zone, because Honduras was completely out of my comfort zone and it was one of the most influential experiences in my life so far. But lately as I've been struggling with feeling inadequate as a Christian and as a person because I'm so introverted, I've been considering a new perspective. Have I become so focused on getting out of my comfort zone that I'm ignoring the God given strengths that are comfortable to me? Christians are often encouraged to get out of our comfort zones, which is a great idea, but sometimes it can start to feel like if we're not feeling challenged to the point of being slightly terrified at all times, we're not doing enough. We all have things that we're good at, things that make us feel comfortable and confident, and I believe God must give us those talents for a reason.
     I love that I have close bonds with a few good friends, and though there's always a part of me that wishes I were more outgoing and social, I feel like having a small selection of close friends allows me to connect with them on a deeper level. I may not be a good talker, but I try my best to be a good listener, and sometimes that's something people really need.
     I'll never be a social butterfly who loves the spotlight, and I'm working on being okay with that. Extroverts are awesome, and I am friends with some of the best. But that's just not me, and I have to learn to accept that. Maybe by making me a hesitant talker, God is reminding me to be an eager listener. When I think about it that way, being this introverted doesn't seem so discouraging anymore.

Looking Back, Looking Forward

I love to write. It's something that usually comes pretty easily to me and it makes me happy. Since starting this blog, I have learned a lot of things about writing, and one of the biggest lessons I've learned is that when you share your thoughts and opinions publicly, anyone who reads them is entitled to have opinions about them. There have been lots of things going on this summer that I've hesitated to write about it, because they are so special to me that I don't even want to think about someone misunderstanding them or writing them off as unimportant or even wrong.

In October, I will go to Africa. I'm taking a semester off from school to do that, and I know that there are people who don't fully approve of that. I'm traveling alone, and I know that there are people who are alarmed by that. But there are people in Africa who might think God doesn't love them because of the things that make them different, and sharing my experiences in the hopes of showing them the truth is extremely important to me. Looking back on the past few years of my life, I can see how so many things were preparing me for this trip before I even knew it was a possibility, and it reminds me not to worry so much about what's happening in this moment, because if I am listening to what God is telling me, there's no way I will end up in the wrong place, even if I don't always understand the route we're taking.

When I look back at my time in Honduras, I don't remember all of the moments personalities clashed and feelings got hurt. I remember the children I met, and the friendships I discovered. They are strong friendships still, and just this week I've had the chance to spend time with lots of those friends and it was like we picked up right where we left off. 

When I look back on our youth retreat just a few months ago, the first thing I think of isn't all of those moments I was tired and cranky. The first thing I think of is that night on top of the mountain and the conversation it led to, and then I think of our walks to the dining hall, when we would take turns guessing what they would food they would serve, hoping we could somehow make them serve our favorites just by naming them. I think of how at the age of twenty one, I sat on top of a mountain with some people who have become great friends and realized that I truly have let go of my negative feelings about not fitting in during high school. That might not sound like much, but there have been times in the past when those thoughts consumed me and defined how I acted, and the fact that I barely even entertain them anymore is huge for me.

It's daunting to think about going to Africa by myself, but I like to describe it as "roller coaster scary", because the scary is part of what makes it fun. I get that not everyone understands my reasons for going, and that's fine. I've decided to keep writing about it because my desire to share is bigger than my desire for approval. Looking forward to this experience, it's easy to think about the parts that I don't understand or the things that could go wrong, but I think that years from now when I am looking back on my time in Africa, I won't even remember these insecurities I am feeling now about how public this decision feels. Life isn't all mountaintops, and maybe that's what faith is for, so we can believe in the valley what we can't quite see yet. But one day we will, and sometimes that day is sooner than we think. Sometimes that day happens at a lake in North Carolina with a few teenagers that don't even realize yet the things God is going to do with the faith they are still cultivating. But among those people was a person who had already been where they are now and knows that they will do great things with their faith, and I am so thankful to be that person. 

Someone Else

     It's taken me a long time to write a post updating you about my progress in planning my trip to Togo, and I think that's because I've been trying to make it sound perfect. I've been waiting for the moment when my excitement, which is still very real, collides with a moment of deep inspiration so I can tell you a beautiful story that leaves you feeling warm and fuzzy. But right now, I'm just the right amount of tired to be a little bit too honest and tell it like it is.
     Organizing fundraisers is not a skill that comes naturally to me. I feel uncomfortable asking people for money, and I'm naturally introverted and feel out of place in the spotlight. I'm not a good organizer, and I seem to learn best by a frustrating process of elimination of doing something wrong over and over again until I finally get it right. I'm very lucky to have a supportive church family and lots of kind friends who are gracious enough to look past all of my imperfections and never point out the fact that someone else could probably do this better. In fact, I can think of lots of people who would do it better, and I have been thinking about that a lot.
  But God did not call someone else to do this. I'm the one who feels called to go to Togo, and tonight I realized the one thing that has never changed through all the discouragement of accepting my shortcomings is my belief that this calling is very real. For some reason, God has decided that this scattered, unsure mess that I am is worthy of this important mission. He does not seem to care that someone else could do it better. He wants me, and I am so excited about that.
So, forgive me if my attempts at fundraising and preparing for this trip seem like a big mess. This is my first time going on a mission trip without a whole team of people, and it is a learning process. I have made many mistakes, and I am sure there will be plenty more before it's all over. But everything I've ever heard about the grace of God makes me feel confident that no matter how many mistakes I make along the way, He will not take this mission away from me simply because someone else could do it better. I have to believe that the One who created me must know me well enough to know what's right for me, so I will continue doing my best and trust that He will take care of the rest.

Thoughts on Empathy

     I don't like politics. I don't enjoy conflict or arguing of any kind, and frankly I don't have much political knowledge because I never tried too. Most of my understanding of how our government functions came from Schoolhouse Rock videos. Knowing these things, I guess you could say that I have a biased opinion about this, and you might be right, but I just have a hard time seeing how easy it is for so many people to react to tragedy with "and this is why I'm voting for candidate X". The fact that we are able to use the death of another human to endorse our own opinion makes me wonder if unlimited access to constant information is teaching us to be comfortable with horrible things, because they're becoming familiar.

     Even though I'm not a political person, I'm not innocent of dismissing tragic events too quickly. I do that a lot, because I tell myself that these things happen because there is evil in the world, and there's nothing I can do about it. Last week, I had a rude awakening as I was reading an article about something tragic that happened recently in this country. The thing that struck me about this particular tragedy was two words I saw in that article. Two words stopped me from dismissing this event as inevitable tragedy in this broken world, two words that stopped me from shrugging it off because there's nothing I can do about it. The name of one of one of the victims was followed by the words "age twenty."

That's how old I am.

With those words, a news story that I understood intellectually became a real thing that I felt tangibly. Right now, funerals are being held for people my age, some even younger. Parents and siblings are having to say goodbye to their son or daughter, their brother or sister.  Like mine, their lives were just getting started. Like me, they had plans for their future, plans they were looking forward too. They had friends and family they never got to say goodbye to, pets that won't understand why they are never going to come back home. 

     Those people who were at first glance just names in another sad news story to me were someone's best friend. They were someone's son or daughter, someone's brother or sister. This event that will fade into a distant memory for me will be a day that someone will never be able to forget, because it is the day they lost a person they loved. Suddenly, this isn't just another sad story. Suddenly this is personal, tragic and uncomfortable because instead of realizing all of the ways I am different from these people, I have discovered something I have in common with them.

     I know that I said these kinds of tragedies are inevitable in this world, but perhaps I should stop using that as my excuse to dismiss them so quickly. I'm no expert, but maybe my ability to immediately dismiss or even politicize the death of another human being is not a testament to my supposed strength, but instead a sign that I am becoming desensitized to cruelty because it feels familiar.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that while I shouldn't live in a constant state of sadness, maybe I shouldn't immediately suppress my sadness either. Maybe I should stop dismissing tragedies as just another news story that I'm not going to read because it will only make me sad. Sadness is uncomfortable, and sensitivity can be humiliating. But maybe I need to be uncomfortable and humiliated sometimes. Maybe I need to have empathy for total strangers, simply because a lack of empathy is the one of the very reasons tragedy had the chance to become so familiar in the first place.

     Everyone knows what loss feels like. It is the one thing that no one can escape completely, no matter how much money, power, or fame we have. So why is it that we can so easily see someone else's loss as just another opportunity to talk about "what's wrong with this country" or who we're going to vote for?  Have we forgotten the human behind the story? Have we forgotten how to empathize? Let's start remembering, so that no child ever has to grow up in a world where evil is accepted as normal.

Don't Put Ice Cream in Your Hair :Lessons from an Elementary School Cafeteria.

     On a particularly hectic day at work a few months ago, I found myself saying, in my most serious grown-up voice "Why did you put ice cream in your friend's hair, that's not a very nice thing to do!" to which the kindergartner in question just as seriously replied, "I don't know, it just seemed like fun!"
     It was at this moment that I came up with the title for a post I would write at the end of the school year, which I planned to be a comical account of the situations I encounter as a person who works with young children. But since that day, things have happened. Standing in a room helping to supervise large groups of children five days a week has taken it's toll on me. I feel older, and not in a wise way. I feel older in the way that I've probably suffered hearing loss and I feel like I need a nap after work at two in the afternoon. It would be a lie to tell you that my job is always enjoyable and that I arrive and leave every day with a smile on my face. It would be far to idealistic to let you believe that I am not looking forward to the end of this school year, as much as I feel heartless for admitting that. But in the midst of my exhaustion and frustration there is a stubborn writer who can't resist the chance to use that catchy title I came up months ago before the tiredness and frustration set in, so here we are. I myself am surprised at what I'm going to say. I didn't expect current events to be a subject in this post when I thought of that title months ago. That being said, I can't help but notice the stark contrast in the devastating chaos of this broken world we live in, and the temporary, mildly annoying chaos of a few hours in an elementary school cafeteria.
     In a world where mass tragedy  is not the shock of the century, but a reoccurring event that manifests itself in a trending hashtag and temporary outrage until the next big story comes along in a few months, children offer a small glimmer of the fleeting innocence that still exists in the world. In a world where adults take to the internet to debate each other about which tragedy in American history was the most deadly, as if it's a competition to be won, I find hope when I observe that for the most part, children are quick to offer and accept apologies to each other when prompted.  Yes, working with children is exhausting, but it has provided me with a perspective that I hope to always keep close. You see, I get frustrated with the constant conflicts these children depend on me to solve, but at the same time I am deeply thankful that these conflicts are small and manageable compared to the larger and more complex problems they will face as they grow older. It is my hope that somehow, in some small corner of their minds, the way I helped them handle problems in their elementary school cafeteria will help them learn how to solve bigger problems in a responsible way as they grow up.
To the children I love. I'm sorry that you're growing up to inherit a world that is such a mess, but I have confidence in your ability to improve it. I know that I have made mistakes, but I hope the majority of my actions have provided a good example for you. I hope, in some way, I have given you someone worth looking up to. So, don't put ice cream in your hair, don't put ketchup in your applesauce, and don't grow up too fast. Thank you for being you.

It's Getting Real!

     I want to start by sending a big thank-you to everyone who was so very supportive and encouraging about the announcement in my last post. If you haven't read that one, you might want to so that this one makes sense. Many of you asked how you can support me, and this post is an answer to that question. One of the most important things you can do is pray for me. You can pray for my safety and that God will allow me to be used in whatever way necessary during my time in Togo. Another way you can support me is somewhat awkward to talk about, because it involves money.
     Please don't view this as a young adult asking other people to pay for her to go on vacation. This is a mission opportunity that I have put lots of thought and prayer into. I was raised with the idea that if you want something, you work for it and save up until you can afford it. I rarely if ever had things just handed to me for free unless it was my Birthday or Christmas. If I could pay for the whole thing by myself I certainly would, but that's just not possible right now, and I can't just ignore what I know God is telling me to do because it's too expensive. So, I have to swallow my pride and endure the awkwardness of fundraising and trust that it is part of the plan.
Obviously, a donation of any amount is welcomed and appreciated very much. A donation of $40 will allow you to "sponsor" me for a day by covering the cost of food, lodging and other daily expenses. My hope is that I can provide each daily sponsor with a personal E-mail update one day during the trip. I also need money for the cost of air travel, which makes up the bulk of my expenses, and for fun things like film for my instant print camera so I can give the children pictures of themselves, something that they don't usually get to have. I plan to have some other fundraising plans laid out in the near future, but for now I've set up a GoFundMe to hopefully make it quick and easy to donate.
Something I will never forget from my trip to Honduras is the way children would climb in my lap and sit there as long as they could. These weren't just little children, these were children that I think were probably as old as ten or eleven. Many times, a child would climb into my lap, lean their head against me, and sigh deeply. These children who seemed so resilient as I watched them play showed me the true definition of a sigh of relief as they let themselves simply be held and receive the affection that all children deserve. This was three years ago, but I can still vividly remember these sighs and they cross my mind almost every day. It may seem outlandish to say that this memory of holding children allows me to justify the cost of this trip, but it's true. Those children taught me that no amount of money, or any other obstacle I may face should prevent me from accepting an opportunity to demonstrate God's love. Thank you all for demonstrating that very same love to me in the support you are already showing.

https://www.gofundme.com/278rev8c

The whole "mission team", including Baby Elijah who will be in charge of all of my financial decisions for this trip. (Just kidding, Elijah, that's just a lame attempt at comedic relief because I've been talking about money and that makes grown-ups uncomfortable!)