"Life Starts All Over Again When it Gets Crisp in the Fall"

So, this is embarrassing. Not only was I too lazy to keep up this blog appropriately, but I am also conceited enough to assume that people would read it if I did. Seriously, in this age of self-obsessed social media consumerism, internet readers have a plethora of highly intelligent, informed, substantial sources to peruse, as well as an infinitely larger number of ill-informed but very humorous sources available for light reading and a hearty chuckle.

So why continue? I suppose it is more for myself than anything else. I am terrible at journaling, I find it extremely boring and a little embarrassing, (my last visit home included an honorary "diary burning" - it was liberating.) But I want to be able to look back and see where I have been, and observe the crazy journey that I am traveling.

It is also for those few, dear, dedicated friends and family members who do actually attempt to keep tabs on where I am at any given time in my life. (My sympathies and deepest gratitude to you for your selfless love and determination in this daunting task.) I can barely remember my current zip code, much less keep track of anyone else right now.

So for the necessary detail updates: I am currently living in Edinboro, PA (30 minutes south of Lake Erie), and attending the graduate school at Edinboro University of Pennsylvania. I am in the Secondary School Counseling Master of Arts program, live on campus, and work as a Graduate Assistant in the counseling office, as well as serving lattes to bleary-eyed college kids in the library cafe every morning.

I am loving where I am at right now, (more about that miraculous story later - suffice it to say that I am "supposed" to be at a seminary in Boston right about now, but God has a funny way of totally turning my world upside down now-and-again). The area is rural and gorgeous, surrounded by wild mountains and serene lakes, but with a TJ Maxx and Panera Bread just half-an-hour up the highway! The weather is as erratic and fierce as I had been warned. Just two weeks ago I was basking in the comfortable warmth of early autumn. Then it snowed. On October 23rd. We got several inches in the matter of a few hours.

I love it.

I couldn't stop grinning while I poured coffee and served donuts at the library cafe this morning, huge white flakes blowing past the giant windows in the seating area. The locals all groaned, claiming that we are in for one heck of a winter; the undergrad girls whined, carefully-straightened hair wrecked by the damp flurries, and I just grinned. This is my kind of place. While I love the metropolis for its provision of every possible want or need and its close proximity to everything and everyone, I adore the untamed, unpredictable north. At the risk of waxing-Gaskell, I feel like there is a north in me that I will never be able to shake.

When I mention such whimsies to my friends, the majority groan and list all of the reasons that a retreat south of the equator would be more favorable. I am reminded of Margaret Hale's first impression of the north of England, in Elizabeth Gaskell's classic, North and South. 

“I wish I could tell you how lonely I am. How cold and harsh it is here. Everywhere there is conflict and unkindness. I think God has forsaken this place. I believe I have seen hell and it's white, it's snow-white.” 

Well, I wish I could tell all of you how contented I am. How welcoming this place has been to me, how the harshness of the way of life up here is mediated by the warmth in the hearts of those people breaking a living out of this hard ground. I know that God is in this place, I think I've seen a glimpse of heaven, and it is white, it's snow white.

Celibacy is NOT a Disease

Dear World,

Hello, it's me again, asking another question. WHY IN THE WORLD IS IT SO WRONG TO WANT TO STAY SINGLE FOREVER???? The correct answer should be - "it's not. If God called you to be celibate, great! You're probably going to be able to focus more on the Lord this way anyway". Yes, thank you.

Unfortunately, that is not the response I get...ever. More often than not, I get the blank, half-panicked stare and shudder of discomfort, as the dumbfounded individual stutters, "b-but, you are too pretty to not get married!" Really? That was the best response? Like, God only calls really ugly people to celibacy? Sigh.

Celibacy is a choice, not a disease.

This has been a subject that has been on my mind a lot lately, what with everyone and their brother getting married and having a half-dozen kids or so. I discovered that my life had turned a corner, when, at a reunion of some old girlfriends back in Lancaster, our main topics of conversation were husbands and who was pregnant this time. Now please don't misunderstand me, I loved it. I really enjoy hearing about my friends and their lives, and what is important to them is most certainly important to me. The part I dislike is the almost inevitable awkwardness that comes when it dawns on whoever I am talking with, that I have no clue "how frustrating it is to have burned my new husband's mashed potatoes, when his mother makes perfect meals all the time," or "if wanting to eat pickles dipped in peanut butter was normal during the first trimester", or best of all, "if everyone thought sex was a little weird and maybe, just maybe, slightly overrated". Yeah. That's my life. And I wouldn't mind a bit, except for the awkwardness that arises when people don't know what to do with me. Like, when I come to a wedding, and inevitably get stuck at the "single and dateless" table at the reception, generally with a bunch of giggling teenagers. Or at church, where everything I say is translated into "I just haven't found the right guy yet", even if what I'm saying is, "no really, I think God has called me to a life of celibacy".

I am grateful for how my family are supportive of me in this, however. They trust that my heart is after the Lord and His will for my life, and that if He really wants me to get married, then He will change my heart. A few years ago, my mom told me that she knew that I would probably never be "a Lancaster County farm wife", barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen and all that, and that was okay. (Although I do often wander about barefoot, including in the kitchen). I am not less of a person because I am choosing to live a different life, and it doesn't mean that I value that life less. No way, you better believe I'll be relaxing in my friends' kitchens, playing with their munchkins and enjoying a cup of tea and some homemade bread! I love Lancaster farm life with all my heart, it's just not where God is calling me right now.

So I will continue holding onto Paul's teaching, that it is actually better to remain as I am (yes seriously, check out 1 Cor. 7), because when I am unmarried, I secure undistracted devotion to God. Yup, it is just the Lord and I. And you know what...I could never be more loved, protected, or fulfilled. Barefoot and pregnant? No, but married to the Creator of the universe and the Lover of my soul? Yes please!

Dealing With Disappointment

Disappointment is one of those things that really can suck the joy out of life if we let it. And I will be the first to admit that I don't handle disappointment well. I will also admit that I have a perpetual and sometimes irrational fear of disappointing others. I think I'd rather get run over by a combine than let down someone I care about.

I also really don't like being disappointed, (really, who does?) But I have come to realize that it has gotten to the point where I would rather place low, if any expectations on myself and others, rather than risk disappointing them or myself. If someone says, for example, that they would like to go hang out with me at an event I was planning on going to, say a concert or party, I subconsciously and automatically assume that something will come up and they won't make it. This is less risky, as I won't be disappointed if in fact they don't go, and pleasantly surprised if they do. I suppose I just don't trust people. I don't trust that they are actually going to do what they say they are going to do, because often they don't.

The same is for myself. When I begin a college course, for example, I begin assuming that I will mess something up, and not be able to keep a high grade. That way if I do excel in the class I am very happy, but if for some reason I don't, then I won't be too disappointed in myself. This creates a frustrating power-struggle within my nature, as I am also a born perfectionist with a severe case of "fear-of-failure". I would rather not do my best, so that if I don't do just perfectly, I will know it was because I didn't give it my all, not because I simply wasn't good enough. This method does backfire, however, because the perfectionist clawing around within me always beats my insides to mush if I do not excel at simply everything.

Yeah, you can feel free to roll your eyes and reduce me to a disturbed psycho after reading all that, and it won't even disappoint me! =) All I can say is that living like this is exhausting. But it is who I am, for now. And praise be to our amazing God for who He is! I know He is the only One who will never disappoint me. And so I can wait without fear of disappointment, "looking for the blessed hope and the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Christ Jesus" (Titus 2:13). And that is one promise that I expect with all my heart to be fulfilled!