sunshine on purpose

Yesterday I was feeling miserable about life and people and myself and was just totally burnt out so I bought myself an egg nog milkshake and fries and came home and watched a depressing movie about finding love til I couldn't keep my eyes open.

This morning I woke up to the sound of the neighborhood kids playing outside and I just knew from the happy tone of their voice that it had, after all, snowed! I looked at my phone and it was only 8:30am but I was somehow wide awake after looking out the window (snow does that). So I pried myself out of my warm bed and went downstairs to make coffee, my mood instantly going up a few notches just because some cold white stuff fell on the ground outside.

Saturdays are usually my time for an extended time with Jesus since all week has been mornings when I have to watch the clock before I have to leave to do something or another so I don't have time to simply sit with him. And this week I'd been really bad at spending any time with him at all, and my mood proved it. So I plopped down on my couch, still in a pretty crappy mood. And something warm and bright interrupted:

The sun. Streaming through my window!

Before getting out of bed, Facebook chat with Mari saying: "have a great day! Look! the sun is coming out!!"

Re-reading this great blog post by my good friend Peri because I needed some encouragement: "...I love making the sun shine on you for your pleasure..."

Chris Rice's "Smellin' Coffee" playing on my iTunes:

"I'm smellin' coffee

The birds are singin' just outside

Here comes your mercy

Streamin' in with the mornin' light

My heart's racin'

Wakin' up to your smile

Good mornin'"

All that. On purpose. I LOVE it when He does that. Exactly when I need it.

Bonus: a picture of the snow out my favorite window:

fast-paced and irresponsible

The parental units arrived on Thursday evening at about 6pm and ever since we have been doing things non-stop (such as: Mudpie on Thursday night with so many faces I love all belting out Emily Grace's "I Love Chattanooga" and a cover of "Wagon Wheel" while filming a music video--a visit to my Greyfriar's abode--trading old, dusty books stored in Delaware for music and movies at McKay's for 3 hours--the most expensive [and delicious] dinner I have ever eaten at Hennen's with an abundance of compliments thrown my way by the staff I love working with--a small but first dose of Mountain Opry, the epitome of Tennessee--and today awaits).

I have not had time to think of things to be responsible about, like cleaning, or support raising, or worry about paying bills (because in fact, the Bank of Dad is right here- how convenient). Nothing like having your security blankets for the first 18 years of life around to keep you from worrying about real life crap. Except it also makes you feel older...and that's kind of a slap in the face sometimes.

I started listening to Chris Rice's Living Room Sessions Christmas CD today (which, by the way, is beautiful- it's only piano). McKay's, it turns out, has a special bin for all Christmas music, categorized, cheap, and waiting to be bought a month too early. Now how am I supposed to pass that up? Exactly. Yay Christmas.

it's official, i miss covenant

I went up to Covenant yesterday to meet the always-wonderful-to-hang-out-with Peri to go for a spontaneous run around campus. The air was cold, it was cloudy, but the trees…oh, the trees…still managed to shine some light on us as we ran and it was GORGEOUS. I hadn’t really noticed that fall foliage had arrived until I drove up Lookout Mountain with my mouth open. I love fall.

We managed to get in some good conversation despite our huffing and puffing up the hills with half frozen lungs, and we also did some quiet walking and lots of stretching. It was sort of bizarre to be running around my ex-college while whining about how we were going to be into our MID-TWENTIES soon and noting every 5 minutes the fact that we didn’t recognize anyone on campus.

We caught what we thought was the last of the soccer game, saw a few fellow alumni and those left behind. Lately I’ve found myself feeling so incredibly glad I am out of Covenant, but yesterday I stood there in the freezing cold wind listening to the siblings of my graduated friends cheer, “Ohhh CC, ohhh CC” to the Scots on the field, heard the familiar whistle blowing, and all of the sudden there was an ache for that place. As we’d walked to the game, Peri goes, “I am drinking tea and walking around Covenant, when was the last time THIS happened?” And I agreed. It’s the little things we miss. The way the buildings used to look. The old Carter Circle. Drinking coffee in the library. Cheering at a soccer game. I’m all grown up now, and all my friends are moving in different directions to the military, to missions, to jobs in other cities, to marriage…it all makes me ache inside, to be back together at Covenant making it the Covenant Peri and I knew. Not the Covenant it is now. The people are different, the culture somewhat different (although we did see some guys battling with some kind of sword out on Brock lawn- oh, Covenant), and even the buildings different. My hall no longer has random paintings from previous students and carpet in the rooms and the same color hallway. Now it’s just a stage on which memories flood out and play out in my head when I go back and visit.

Even when I start to get all achy and sentimental and pensive (what a great word), I always feel this thankfulness too. I walked back from the soccer game slowly because of my frozen limbs and I just got the urge to say, “Hey God, you did a lot here the past four years. Thanks.” I can’t even list all the ways I grew, changed, learned, all the experiences I had, all the meaningful conversations that were spoken, all the lifelong friends I made, all the ways I found myself and God while at Covenant. No one knows but Him anyway. As I gear up to start the loan payments next month (insert horrifying scream here), I remember that you really can’t buy that kind of growth and that God knew exactly what he was doing. And every experience is different. Covenant’s not for everyone, but it was for me. The good and the bad, the pain and the joy, the stressful and the peaceful.

I hope that the next 4 years are as full and as meaningful. All I have to do to get the courage to continue on the road I’m on now is to look back at the last snaky and sometimes road that led to a pretty darn good place: here.