Beauty and Gifts

I am loving Peoria in the summer. It is gorgeous. Last night our church had our evening service at this pioneer church, then cooked hot dogs and hung out outside. Today I had a picnic with my friend Michelle on the playground of the grade school where we became friends. It's just all so green and lush, the sky is beautifully blue with fantastic white puffy clouds. I love it.



In my Theories of Personality class, we studied this one theory that says people are built to look at the world through a certain lens, like logic or morality. At the time, I figured mine was beauty, and after living in Senegal, I am more sure of that than ever. It's really hard for me to live in a place that isn't beautiful. Fatick was just depressing to look at. But Peoria! It's wonderful. My world makes sense.

In a more thinky thought unrelated tangent, I've been confronted with the question of my gifts and talents a couple times in the last few days, and can I just say that I hate that question? Off the top of my head, I have very little idea of what I'm good at. I don't actually think I'm good at anything.

But when it really comes down to it, I think I have two major talents. Writing and adaptability. I don't like that my talents are more reactionary than causational. I have no idea what I can do, but whatever I do, I know that I can get used to it quickly and then express my thoughts about it. So that's...something.

When it comes to spiritual gifts, though, I'm even less sure. So I followed Joel's advice and asked some people. The overwhelming favorite was knowledge, which I can totally see. The only problem is, what good is that? I mean, if it's God's gift, it's obviously useful, but....

The thing is, I feel like everything I'm good at is very intrapersonal. That is by far where most of my intelligence lies. In that personality class, everything we learned, I applied to myself. Other people said, "Oh! This explains my mother/roommate/friend!" Nope. I rarely thought past myself. And isn't that what knowledge is too? I guess I feel like I don't give back enough, that it isn't natural for me to think of other people. I'm not compassionate, that's for sure.

Other than knowledge, a couple people suggested mercy. I can see that a little, I guess. I don't know exactly what that gift entails, so that's part of the problem. But I was also told that I have the gift of accepting people, which is similar to what a friend told me awhile ago, that she felt she could tell me anything and I wouldn't judge her. If that is mercy, then....yes!

I think I should be a psychologist someday.

Then there were some single responses, like giving (which I kind of agree with, and I definitely feel like God is working on growing that in me, so maybe it's a secondary gift?), and discernment and showing up at people's houses at 10:30. I don't know, but I think the last one might have been a joke. I can't really discern the meaning behind it.

Anyway. Those are the things I'm thinking. Sometimes I wish God had written an instructions manual for my life. "This is what you are good at. You will be most rewarded by going into such-and-such a profession." Too bad.

Tornados

I made dinner for my family. It took almost two hours, and I made every single part of it from scratch, and it was delicious. I find I really like cooking.

We had finished eating and were ten minutes into a movie (yes, we watch things while we eat, and yes, we eat fast) when the tornado sirens went off. I haven't been in a tornado warning for probably two years, when Erin and I fled to Union and the TV blew out because of lightning. Anyway, I thought I was over the whole "deathly terrified" thing, but really I just haven't been exposed to storms very much.

I hate getting scared. I hate feeling weak and powerless. But fear is not something I've learned to control, and those stupid sirens must be directly hotwired to my amygdala, because I was internally freaking out. Luckily my mother is empathetic, and she suggested we go downstairs, which I promptly did. I dragged Misty along too, because I am not going to let her die.

There were a few actual scares, like when the TV guy circled Edwards and wrote "TAKE COVER!" all intense and dramatic. So we did. My mom and I (and Misty!) went under the stairs and sat on a Christmas box (not Misty). My dad stayed by the TV and alternated between telling me it was not going to hit us and comfortingly patting my shoulder.

Long story short, nothing happened. But I can no longer deny that I am not emotionally scarred. The threat of tornadoes terrifies me, especially when paired with the sirens. Also, lightning absolutely terrifies me, but I think that has more to do with watching The Green Mile.

Well, after bemoaning the sad state of my spiritual life on this blog just a couple hours ago, I finally had enough pushing me to do something about it. Usually stating my failures in a public(ish) forum will do the trick.

So I sat down and wrote out a really long prayer, apologizing for being a slacker, and praising God for how awesome and patient and forgiving He is. And then I actually took time to pray through some of the things that have been on my mind, concerning the past and the future and life.

It's funny how talking to God really does give you peace and rest. I feel better than I have in weeks. It's funny how I always forget this consequence. Always I feel better after spending time with God, but always I take forever to actually do it. Few things demonstrate my struggle between flesh and spirit than my avoidance of/seeking after time with God.

Then I read the second chapter of 1 Corinthians, and even though I hadn't really been thinking about my talk on Sunday, it just completely relaxed me and told me what I needed to hear. Because although I appreciate people telling me I'll do great (thanks, Tommy!), that really does nothing to help me. I've been fed those lies all my life, but the truth is, I will just not be great at some things. And that's okay.

I may stutter and squawk on Sunday. Doesn't matter. I just have to do it, because my job on this earth is to glorify God, and whether I do that with a steady voice or not is pretty inconsequential. So thanks, God, for pointing out Paul as my public speaking role model!

When I came to you, brothers, I did not come with eloquence or superior wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. I came to you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling. My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit's power, so that your faith might not rest on men's wisdom, but on God's power.
1 Corinthians 2:1-5

Confidence Regained

Even though my only actual plans for the future include living overseas, I've secretly been hesitant. It's just very easy to live in Peoria. I have a ready-made family, and a ready-made circle of friends, and a ready-made church community. Everything is laid out for me.

I didn't know if I wanted to go through the hassle of starting over. I made a new life in Jackson. I made a new life in Senegal. Now I'm reintegrating into my first life in Peoria. It might be nice to just settle down. If I make a new friend, awesome. But it's not like I have to actively work to make new friends, not like if I moved somewhere new and I had no established friends. It's a lot of work. And even though I ended up loving the Forsythes and Liz and Holly and Lamba and Mame Codou...it took a while to get there. It took a good couple months for the comfort to set in.

Do I want to do that again?

Today I realized the answer is definitely yes. I mean, I don't actually like who I am in Peoria. It's better than it used to be, but I tend to emotionally regress when I'm here. It's not surprising, since I'm living with my parents and hanging out with the people who knew me as a high schooler. But my spiritual life sucks here. And my contentment sucks here. I don't like it. And even though I know that this is something I should work through instead of run away from (darn you, Stephanie, and your words of wisdom that apply to everything in my life!)...even though I think I should work through it, I don't want to stay here forever.

I think I can force myself to grow if I stay in Peoria. But when I travel...when I throw my life into God's hands and trust that He'll take care of me, when I see a world completely different from what I know...that's when my heart changes and my beliefs become solid and my passion is enflamed. Not because of anything I do. I don't force myself to change. The situation, and the way God works in the situation, changes me.

I want that again.

And anyway, I went to see the documentary Babies, and while they were absolutely adorable, I was mostly thinking, "I want to see Mongolia! I want to walk through Tokyo! Hey look, Namibia is like Senegal a little! I've experienced that! I could experience that!"

Stephanie says I am probably the only person to watch that movie and think "I want to travel!" instead of "I want a baby!"

So...while I'm still nervous about uprooting my life again, I have regained my confidence that it will be a good thing. I don't think it will happen for awhile--maybe not for a year, even--but it will happen. It should happen. And I want it to happen.

Out of Place

I'm not going to do the whole 'recap my day' thing. First, that just feels weird, now that a lot (and by a lot, I mean all seven of you followers) of people are reading about my life as it happens in their own town. And also, I quit my xanga blog because of issues with weirdness and conviction from a YA future apocalyptic book. So I can't go back on that.

Instead, I will just write my thoughts. And anyway, thoughts are more interesting than actions. So proved Alice in Wonderland.

My thoughts today go like this:

I do not want to speak about Senegal on Sunday! I dislike all forms of public speaking! I didn't even like skyping with Woodland, and that was with thousands of miles separating me from my audience. I couldn't even see my audience. I wish I were witty and stellar, and that my voice didn't go wonky from nervousness. But it does, and I will deal.

Sometimes I wish I didn't talk about my opinions quite so much, because of course after I start thinking that the American church needs to step up with community and lots of people publicly sharing what God is doing in their lives.....God would do something in my life, and I would be obligated to talk about it or be a hypocrite.

I am often a hypocrite, but not this time.

Also, I found out that a printed version of my Senegal blog was passed from one person to another in order to be read. It is like I am secretly published! The printed version of my blog is 245 pages long. Um, what? My wordiness is extreme. I'm so super impressed by anyone who read all of that monstrosity, and also I think you are strange, because surely the intricacies of my brain are not that interesting.

It is hard to be friends with a mother and her children. I can have conversations with the mother, and I can have conversations with the children, and I can say ridiculous things, or share my (overly opinionated) opinions, and it's no big deal. But when I have those conversations in front of both.....oh man, do I feel the heat. It is like I am corrupting the children with my words right in front of the woman who birthed them, and the mother wonders why I am invited over, and I feel all judged and stuff. Possibly I am hyperbolizing. Possibly not.

I would really like to live with Liz again. She makes me feel normal, because she is exactly like me. All the things that people look down on me for (my poor maligned Buffy, my neglected Battlestar Galactica, my awesome Neil Patrick Harris), all those things are equally loved by Liz! I mean, sometimes I even worried that she was moving in on my obsession territory. The people I am currently around think that I am weird. Liz made me feel like I was awesome.

Those are selfish reasons. My unselfish reasons are that Liz herself is awesome. She couldn't make dinner without dancing. She drives a moto like...a safe moto driver. She overcame her money stringency to do a more laidback roommate grocery shopping just because it is what I prefer. She rarely missed a day reading her Bible, and she was way better at memorizing Ephesians than I was at memorizing Romans. She would come into my room to show me awesome youtube clips, and she knew cool music before cool people did. She had a busted knee, but she still rocked p90x harder than me.

Also, she loved Buffy and Neil Patrick Harris. Those are the more immediate reasons why I miss Liz.

Armpit Hairs

I have so many friends here. It's kind of ridiculous. I mean, in a good way, because I don't know how I survived for five months with the same seven friends. Probably they were just super awesome. Not that my friends here are not! Hmm, I am digging myself into a hole.

Anyway, I had lunch with Hope. I tend to avoid large parties with my high school friends. I did back then, and I do now. I have not teased out my psychological reasoning for that. But I like hanging out with them solo, which I did today. We ended up driving all over Peoria in search of my Glee DVDs, which we got, and in search of a Chi straightener and Alias DVDs, which we did not get.

After I dropped her off at her car, I stopped by the Monahan's to hang out. I fangirled about Hunger Games (my love is undying!) with Wendy while she made curtains. I tried to give Abby hair advice for her 8th grade graduation, even though I have no creative inspiration when it comes to hair. I comforted, and mocked, David in his second collar bone breakage.

Then I went to go to church. I do very much love being a regular part of Woodland again. It's nice to know I'll be around more than four Sundays at a max. Dinner was good, and I went to a TeamKIDs meeting like an important adult. At 6:30 I commenced my first act as Missions teacher! I think it went pretty well. Hopefully the kids realized that Samuel from Brazil needs prayers, and that being polite is a way to show people that Jesus is awesome.

But my favorite thing of the whole day came after TeamKIDs, when a bunch of us stood around reading the answers of the male youth for a survey on modesty and all things girls. My absolute favorite answer (to the question: What about a girl will send you in the opposite direction?) was "a long armpit hair." Which begs the question, are multiple long armpit hairs attractive?

It was all very enlightening and slightly terrifying. It made me miss my Gender and Sexuality class. Back in the day, I thought there was nothing that would make me happier than spending my life researching the intricacies of gender and sexuality. I still think that I could take classes on it the rest of my life, because it's boundlessly interesting. I'm glad they're discussing stuff like that in church. It needs to be addressed before kids go to school and hear about it from their peers. Which, granted, means starting early, because I started those whispered conversations in fifth grade. Kids are not as innocent as we believe, from our elderly adult standpoint. I can't imagine the fifth graders I know having the conversations I did, but I'm sure they do.

Anyway, that was off topic and starting to become a rant. So I'll cut that short right now.

No Writing Energy. List Instead.

1. American greasy pizza is awesome.

2. I cannot believe I've only been in the States for a week. Already Senegal seems like a distant memory, and Peoria seems like normal.

3. I watched the first episode of Mad Men with my dad. If ever I have been proud to be a feminist, it's while watching that show. Thank God the times have changed.

4. It's far too easy to be distracted here. Life is busy, especially considering my whirlwind weekend, but even when I'm just lounging around at home, there are fifty bajillion ways I can waste my time. I almost want the power to go off so I'm limited to fewer options.

5. It feels normal to be squeezing in time with all my friends of various life stages, but then it hits me....I'm staying here. For a long time. Still not sure how to deal with that.