Chill out. Plant a garden.

The prospect of spending four (or so) months in a town totally devoid of people my age while working like mad to make enough money to move to greener pastures is, at times, nothing short of daunting. Don't get me wrong. I love home. It safe, cozy and special. However, when one has got the adventure bug and feels 100% stuck by a lack of post-grad funds, home can feel like a cage. This next chapter can be adequately summed up in the following four words: crafts, books, children, and self-improvment.  Because, well, I'm trying my hardest to make the best out of an unplanned situation. 

Has that ever happened to you? Have you made a plan, only to watch it disappear in the time it takes a mechanic to say "Oh, that'll be a $600 repair."? It's hard, man. Hard to feel like life won't really start until my zip code changes. Not that that is necessarily true, but that's sure what it feels like. I imagine this feeling is similar to the sentiments of the Israelite leaders when they were in exile in Babylon. Totally stuck, and totally removed from what their hearts wanted to be doing. It was to this group of disgruntled royals, etc. that the prophet Jeremiah wrote the following words:

This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper...I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord. 

Okay, I'm not going to get married and plant a garden. But I do think the sentiment of the words is applicable to being stuck in the middle of the United States when my heart is in Tennessee. Here is my CliffNotes version of that scripture:

God says: "Look, folks, you're in Babylon, so find something good about it and relax. I have a plan that is a little beyond you right now, but that does not mean I have left you behind or forgotten about you. Keep praying and hold on, because what I have in store is the bomb. Seek hard for me, and you will find me. I promise."

Hello, the most comforting thing in the world. Eternal perspective is eternally difficult to focus on sometimes most of the time, but the truth of the matter is that God's plan does not always line up with ours. His is the one that will prevail, though, so all we can do is relax and trust. No matter how stuck you or I feel, we have not been let behind by a God who is too busy with other things. He's just working out a plan that we can't see yet.

With that in mind, I have a laundry list of things to do this fall:

1) Work, work, work. (Between selling over-priced children's clothes, babysitting and the church nursery, it will be a parade of babies, which is not the worst way to earn money.)

2) Craft my heart out. (Post-grad free time, WHAT UP. Also, crafting is an outlet for daydreaming about my sweet Nashvegas apartment.)

3) Read books that will inspire. (Starting with Jane Austen.)

4) Earnestly seek Jesus, and in doing so become better fit for the next chapter.

Bring it on, Lord. I'm ready.

These are a few of my favorite things.

Cool fall mornings
Lattes
Bright blue pools
New sunglasses
Reading a really good part of a really good book
Drummers
Driving down a beautiful highway
Leaves sparkling in a setting sun
Bonfires
Summer nights
Early, misty mornings
Quiet corners
A favorite song on the radio
The Olympics
Witty banter
Europe
Rejuvenating naps
Slanted sunlight
Applause at the end of a performance
Gerber daisies
Really tight harmonies
Kittens
Incredibly cute babies
Bay windows
Bookstores

Sometimes, completely out of nowhere, I am struck by unmistakable beauty in something incredibly simple. Earlier this spring it was the vibrant green leaves of a tree on my walk home, which contrasted sharply with the gray sky above it. On a crisp fall day, it's the warmth and comfort of a latte. There are things, moments and places in the world, different for each of us, that bring joy and a smile whenever we come across them. It's almost as if little hand-wrapped packages, designed individually and with great care, are just waiting to be found, if we will take a moment and look. 


P.S. I was thinking about that song in The Sound of Music earlier, and realized that I absolutely agree with Julie Andrews' entire list of favorite things. Except maybe the schnitzel. Still, we could be best friends probably.

The Star Wars box.

As I am now an independent post-grad, the parents have requested that I clear out the bulk of stuff that has been hogging closet space in the room that is officially no longer mine. A long process, for sure, and one that is maybe meant for a more organized mind than mine, but it must be done. And can I just tell you how amusing this job has been so far?? Real talk, friends, I forgot a lot of things about the little girl who wanted to dance for the New York City Ballet and wrote a detailed book about training to be a Jedi. I had also forgotten about the ever-so-slightly dramatic teenager who filled notebook after notebook with stories, journals and big plans.

The best find was a plastic bin filled with magazines, books, puzzles, and (I kid you not) cereal boxes that had one thing in common: they were Star Wars themed. Friends, this is no joke. There was a 3ish year period in which I drooled over anything and everything from George Lucas' universe. There may or may not have been a hand-crafted lightsaber (which looked strangely like a giant tree branch) involved.

Going through all that stuff, being back home in familiar haunts, and spending time with old faces brings a certain amount of nostalgia. I've said jokingly a few times, "Thank GOD we grew up!" But seriously, thank God I grew up. As I look over my shoulder at the headstrong dreamer who had designs on B-way and worldwide fame, I am eternally grateful that God said "Woah, woah, woah, crazy lady. Try again." Then He put the brakes on a million more plans and showed me new ones.

In Ephesians, Paul writes "Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think."  BUT SERIOUSLY THOUGH. Praise God, who 1) has a brilliant plan for us and 2) is constantly changing our heartbeats to match His. If one is willing to listen, God can slowly change the tune of your heart so that it is perfectly in sync with His plan. Coolest? COOLEST.  Certainly hard to swallow at times, but as I remember the girl I used to be, I am nothing but thankful for the changes that I have put me where I am now. Somebody was looking out for me in a big way. The journey is far, far from over, but I have great hope for the rest.


I showed my little brother my Star Wars collection. He was all, "Wow, Raych. That's SUPER cool."

See ya, Texas.

There are a million things I should be doing today (real talk, though, the list is outta this world long), but instead I am sitting down to reminisce.  Because, man, I miss Texas. The gigantic jewelry, the cowboy hats, the abrasive trucks, the oppressive heat, the precious people that have become family. Knowing that it could be a year before I see it all again makes me want to crank up some Miranda Lambert and sing the blues away.

There has never been a point in the last four years that I considered myself to be a Texas girl. I always claimed to be a Midwesterner who was making a pit-stop in the Lone Star State in order to earn a degree. However, as I watched the Fort Worth skyline get smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror Monday afternoon, I felt a genuine pang of homesickness. Like it or not, Texas stole a piece of my heart.

BUT ENOUGH SAP. I could go on. I will not. Instead, I will, with great fondness, remember the people who made the last four years what they were. And I actually will miss them a bundle.

1) The security guys at the Villas. One of them always played Solitaire, one of them always threw up a Horned Frog at whoever drove through the gate. Both had a precious smiles and a kind word, no matter how late it was.

2) Betty. Betty looked to be at least in her eighties and had the sweetest face in the world. She rolled her little cleaning cart around the back of the BLUU like a pro and always seemed so content at her work.

3) That guy who always gave me a free latte at the bookstore. Never failed to put a smile on my face, and he seemed to be working on any given day I happened to really really need some sunshine.


4) Mr. Cheng. I only took his ballet class for two years, but will remember that moment that he came to class in a goblin mask forever.

5) The lady who worked at the Corner Store, and called everyone "Hun", "Baby", "Sweetheart" and "Doll" to the point that you couldn't help but feel like she 1) had known you forever and 2) loved you like her own child.

6) The Provost. Who else can say they had a sassy Scotsman as the Vice President of their university? Everything about that man was adorable.

7) The people at China Jade. Who made the best fried rice ever, always gave us a student discount, and were too perfectly Asian for words.


8) Cute Physics Boy. 4evah.

As one chapter closes and another begins, I'm just throwing this out there: my heart is full. Every sappy country lyric about loving the land and each other and drinking beer and blah blah blah will forever remind me of you, Fort Worth.