new.

mostly writing here now:
http://radiatel0ve.tumblr.com/

and by mostly, i mean those times when i randomly feel like putting thoughts out there for all to see.
this is sporadic at best.

oops.

obviously, i'm doing an excellent job at blogging every day. oops. oh well.

i've been thinking on the topic of sabbath lately.

resting.
solitude.
silence.
prayer.
confession.
humility.

taking time to remember that at the end of the day, even if i produce absolutely nothing, i am loved.

what a difficult thing to swallow.

i am not very good at resting.
i fight against silence.
just this morning, driving to work, i had to make a great effort to turn off the radio and drive in silence.
and then, in that silence, my mind raced. and raced. and raced.

there's a whisper going on in my heart, in my spirit, telling me to write more. to slow down and write. writing is a frightening thing for me, a people pleaser, an enneagram "two", a recovering codependent. even while writing in this blog, i find myself hitting the delete button more often than i'd like.

so maybe there is a tie between these two things in my life.
a connection between this need for rest, and this need to write.
that for me, journaling is a way to help my mind from racing out of control while still being at peace.


we'll see where all of this takes me.
but i'm feeling a sense of calm in my spirit that i have missed.
a feeling that i haven't felt in a long, long time.

here's to rest.

writing.

I'm in the middle of Shauna Niequist's "Bittersweet" and couldn't be loving it more. I've found myself on the verge of tears multiple times, finding her stories resonating deeply within me.

Also, much like the feeling I get while reading Anne Lamott's books, I'm finding myself hungry to write again. Obviously from the date on the latest post on this blog, I've taken a leave of absence. That needs to change.

Of all people, my mom is the one who always tells me I need to write. She has told me that from a very young age. Maybe I should start listening to her. I've found that to be the case in many aspects of parental advice, so maybe this is one of those times as well.

So here we go. I'm going to plan to write on this blog every day for a week. And we'll see where it takes me.

adulthood.

I've officially hit that point in my job where it is no longer "fun." To be fair, there are definitely times of fun. Loads of times. But there is also a strong sense of "ugh" when my alarm goes off in the morning.

At first, this freaked me out. I was petrified. How could this, my "dream job", have become that dreaded thing known as work?! Was God calling me to go somewhere else? Am I not in the right place? Should I start looking elsewhere for a job?

Then, through many mature conversations, I realized that I have just entered what is known as adulthood.

Ew.

I hit the big 2-4 last Thursday and for the first time had the panicky feeling at the idea of growing older. I don't want to grow up. I don't want to have an adult job. I want to be able to have off on my birthday and buy ridiculous things that I don't need just because I can.

The good news is that everybody has this moment in some way, shape, or form. Everybody has a point where their job IS a job and not buckets of fun all day, every day. Everybody dreads responsibility and leaving childhood. This is normal.

And since coming to that realization, I have found my job to be fun again. I just needed a perspective check, to be reminded that it will all be OK and that God has me here for a purpose. Scattered throughout the annoying parts of this job - random administrative tasks that are tedious, certain conversations with parents, watching students choose one thing on a Wednesday night and something totally different the next day in school, etc. - there are many blessings. Many satisfying moments. And it is those painful times that make the joyful times even better.


For the record...



... I still love my job.

hurting.

Sometimes it feels like there is a limit on how much joy a person is allowed to have.

That everything can be going so well, but there is a limit to that, and at some point or another it will come crashing down around them in the shortest moment. Followed by the feeling of "no.. no, no, no... no."

My heart is heavy tonight and the only rest I can find is in the love of my God, who takes me in his arms even when I feel too weak to drag myself there. I want to kick and punch and hit like a child throwing a tantrum, but I am already out of energy to do even that. So instead, I'll collapse like a kid who already has thrown one, who is beyond crying.

I think going to sleep is the best option now.

vinyl.

For Christmas this year, Joe got me a gorgeous, sleek, beautiful Crosley record player. He surprised me with it today in the best way possible: I walked up the stairs into our apartment after church to hear "Viva la Vida" playing on the turntable.

I don't know how it's possible, but that song sounds even better on vinyl. Pure gold.

I'm also not sure I realized how much I wanted this gift until I got it. I've always had a respect and appreciation for vinyl, a trait I attribute to my record-lovin' parents, and began collecting them in high school. I got most of them from the local Goodwill and hole-in-the-wall record store at Zerns Farmer's Market. My small collection included the works of Billie Holiday, Cat Stevens, Pat Benatar, the Glen Miller band, and Engelbert Humperdinck.

It turns out that Joe had also coordinated with my parents and ended up borrowing some of their records as well. All afternoon we've been singing and dancing to the tunes of the Temptations, Neil Young, the Beatles, and the Doors. We got dressed in our finest dancing clothes- Joe chose an unbuttoned white shirt to channel John Travolta in Grease- and made fools of ourselves as the snow started falling outside. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard. My husband is a hilarious dancing machine.

There's just something about having to go through the whole process of pulling the record out of its sleeve, setting it gently on the turntable, placing the needle carefully on the grooves, watching it spin around and around. Music has been consuming our tiny apartment. Absolutely filling it. I'm looking forward to dance parties to come.

I'm warm and content right now as the snow continues to fall outside. I'm grateful for a God incarnate, a gracious Father who chose to be with us. I'm thankful for a family that I love spending time with, joking and laughing. And I'm excited for a first anniversary with an incredible husband, my best friend and the greatest dancing partner a gal could ask for.

remember.

Another night of trying to stay awake via various kinds of distraction.

Tonight, that came in the form of going through an old online journal (that was hilarious and embarrassing to read). There are few things in life that are as refreshing as reading through an old journal. Maybe because it's nice to see how far you've come. That the things you didn't know much about then, you know much more about now. It's fun to reminisce and as much shame as some of those entries bring me, it was good medicine.

I coped some of the things I found the funniest through the entries. Here's just a sampling of high school Steph thoughts:

I was really feeling tonight like I was acquiring a passion for teenagers. Haha that sounds funny if you read it, but seriously.. the teen ministry is such a powerful thing. I'm only 18 and I know how important these years are in shaping who a person is. And I've been so blessed by that ministry, the only thing I feel like I can do is give back to it. I don't know, it was just this tiny flame in my heart that I feel like God is going to keep fanning and keep growing.

That's pretty cool to look back on. Here I am, 5 years later, working in youth ministry. And another youth ministry-related entry a year or so later:

I don't even know where to start. HCBC rocked my flipping socks, if I could sit there and be a mentor to girls for the rest of my life I am so in. I loved every part of being a leader, even the not-so-fun stuff like ZERO sleep, waking up at 5:30am so the girls could see the sunrise, etc. It all was incredible, awesome, Spirit-filled, humbling, amazing. I wish I was there right now.

Dang.
That's cool.

ESFJ - "Seller". Most sociable of all types. Nurturer of harmony. Outstanding host or hostesses. 13% of the total population.

That's crazy, because having taken the Myers-Briggs more recently I've come out as an ENFJ. So my perception has shifted from being really concrete-based to being a lot more abstract. Interesting.

Uh I think I have ADD.

Umm, hello. Diagnosis of the century.

That was loads of fun, the rides up and back were pretty fantastic as well. I found gas for $1.89 at this amish gas station!!!

Does ANYBODY remember gas being $1.89?! Man, did this make me feel old.



As funny as a lot of the entries were, it was seriously good to go back and see what God has done in me over the past few years. He's always calling His people to remember, and killing time tonight by sifting through old journal entries was a way to do that.

Now just four more hours left of my shift, trying to stay awake. Bring on the caffeine.