Believing in the Unknown

Here is an unpublished post from about a year ago.

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The last time I came here to write on my blog I was writing in a state of despair and confusion. I was desperately gripping onto my hope in Yahweh even though I couldn't see an answer to my struggles. I honestly felt at that time that I couldn't go on. I felt as if I was about to fall off the edge, that I wouldn't be able to finish my degree. I was feeling the weight of problems that weren't entirely my own but could find no way to shake them. Little by little I was being crushed and more and more I had been locking myself away from the world. When my friends asked me to hang out I made excuses in order to keep alone. The pressure of being okay and happy around them was often too great. Of course, during this time there were moments when I showed my weakness and each time my friends were there to pick me up. I am eternally grateful to them for standing by me. Despite that, however, I continued to feel alone. It was at this time that God showed his mercy in my life and rescued me again. He never fails me.

God sent someone wonderful into my life and through him He has shown me His great love for me. Just when I was going to break he strengthened me. Just when I doubted myself the most - going crazy with the idea of not being able to help the people I loved - he believed in me and gave me the confidence in myself that I could go on. I am constantly being reminded now that God will never give me something that, with faith, I cannot endure. On my own I know I would utterly be overtaken but in Him I will always find a strong fortress. I knew all of these things before. I knew it. But I couldn't see it. I was the man crying out, "Lord I believe, help my unbelief!" and now I can see again. I am trusting in Yahweh not just because of trust in His faithfulness in the future, but right now, in the middle of all the mess, He is showing Himself to me in this very moment. It is incredible. My Father knew that I needed help and so he sent it. He knew I needed someone that I could talk to at any moment in the day, about anything on my mind, and He brought me that person.

I was talking to my friend this morning about grocery shopping, finals, and God's faithfulness to us. I told her,

Jacob and Lydia: The Beginnings

There was a certain night that I knew was going to be special. It wasn't really very different than other nights we had gone out for dinner... but this time. Well, the day before had been a hell of an emotional roller coaster and this night was bringing the clearest sense of peace and belongingness that I hadn't felt... ever.

Unfailing Love

The last time I came here to write on my blog I was writing in a state of despair and confusion. I was desperately gripping onto my hope in Yahweh even though I couldn't see an answer to my struggles. I honestly felt at that time that I couldn't go on. I felt as if I was about to fall off the edge, that I wouldn't be able to finish my degree. I was feeling the weight of problems that weren't entirely my own but could find no way to shake them. Little by little I was being crushed and more and more I had been locking myself away from the world. When my friends asked me to hang out I made excuses in order to keep alone. The pressure of being okay and happy around them was often too great. Of course, during this time there were moments when I showed my weakness and each time my friends were there to pick me up. I am eternally grateful to them for standing by me. Despite that, however, I continued to feel alone. It was at this time that God showed his Love in my life and rescued me again. He never fails me.

Learning to Praise

Do you ever feel alone?

I do.

Do you ever feel inadequate?

I do.

Do you ever look around and see a world that seems perfect and wonder how you keep managing to mess yours up? Do you sit surrounded by friends smiling and laughing but feel profoundly sad at the same time? Afraid to go home at the end of the night?

Me. That's me. me. me.

So this is it. I've landed on it. I've found the words to express what has been giving me so much trouble lately. I've been kept awake at night with so many thoughts. I have been worrying about so many things that wisdom tells me is best to leave unnamed. I have developed a defence mechanism to deal with these sorts of things and it is that I pretend that everything is okay, that its not real, or that I can handle it. I am trying to break that habit so I hate that I can't be candid with y'all. Because the reason why I write is because I don't want to be fake. I don't want to be one of those bloggers who has the solution for everything. I struggle too. I struggle so much. And it is so important to me that I share this because the ideal of a perfect image is probably the most damaging influence in my life personally - something I am hoping that my honesty will keep others from experiencing as well. But, there are times for everything and at the moment it is best to leave some things unspoken. Just please understand that my silence in this moment is not the same as me pretending. I am not trying to be perfect.

Mustard Greens

Cheesy bean and rice burrito with sides of collard greens with mixed vegetables and grapes.

One of my favorite kinds of places in the entire world are farmer's markets. A close second are the produce sections in the grocery store. I love to skip through the aisles flitting from one bin to another to admire all of the fresh food. I constantly get distracted and forget what vegetable I had originally intended to buy and, if I'm not careful, I will end up bringing strange fruits and vegetables to the check out counter and then make the check out take twice as long because I am too busy telling the cashier how I am going to cook it when I get home.

SO

If this is the case at the grocery store... imagine me at the farmers market.

Last Saturday I went with my roommate and another co-worker to the local farmer's market here in Pensacola. I had a blast! There is so much to see at this market. People will come all the way from Alabama just to set up here in Pensacola. There are a lot of craft like tables that sell things such as homemade clothes, toiletries, jewelry, games, yard decorations, household items, pottery - just about anything you can think of. The food tables are equally diverse. There are baked goods, fresh produce, refreshing drinks, snacks, jams, jellies, kettle corn, honey, preserved meat, fresh meat, different grains... There is also a lot of music there. A bluegrass band comes every week along with several solo musicians. People will play guitar, piano, banjo, violin, drums, and even foreign instruments that I don't recognize. This market is the place to be.

Can Thorns Be Beautiful?

I really don't know how to start this. There are so many places where I could begin. I am learning that stories do not always have a real beginning. A time when the story didn't exist and then it began. It has always been there, its just that we haven't been able to see it. Its like saying a rose bush doesn't exist just because you haven't seen the blossom yet.

I'll begin with the roots.

My father used to play drums, piano and guitar. My mother used to make explosives in her backyard. 

I played piano and jumped out of trees.

So my parents decided to put me in gymnastics.

I enjoyed my days at the gymnasium and found a safe outlet for my wildness. I would run laps around the mat, do stretches, climb the rope, swing on the bars, jump from the vault, and balance on the beam. I learned flips and tricks and handstands. I could do cartwheels on the beam. First at floor level then little by little higher until I was at the highest level. Next up was learning to do handstands on the beam. I could already do them on the mat. But I began to collapse. In the middle of cartwheels or handstands my arms would give way and I would crumple into a pile on the floor. At first I thought it was a balance issue so I kept trying. My instructor and parents were concerned, and when my arms and wrists began to hurt I realized too that there was a problem. I quit gymnastics and began to visit the doctors.

We went to countless doctors. All of them ignored my problems and told us it was growing pains. They told me to wear a wrist brace indefinitely. We went to CVS and tried on different braces and picked out black ones. As soon as we checked it out we opened the package and I put them on. It was a relief for my injured wrists and I was glad to have them. I wore them all day, everyday. I went to bed with them on, took showers with them on, I played baseball with them on. I never took it off. My skin inside the braces began to turn white and softened and the whole thing stank. We began to take them them off to wash them but while they were off I would sit quietly and not move. My muscles began to atrophy.

“Organ Favorites” - Lynne A. Lauderdale

Hello Everyone, I don't have anything new for y'all but I wrote something earlier in the semester and have been disappointed that I had no use for it. I was trying to write a concert report for one of my classes but I realized that his one wasn't valid because it was merely a recital with only one person playing. If  there had been at least one other person performing in the recital I would have been able to use this bit for academic purposes but alas, the recital did not fit the criteria for the assignment. I have been so peeved about it all this time that I have finally decided to publish this as a blog post here on Experience. Enjoy. :)

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I have been looking forward to attending Dr. Lynne Lauderdale organ recital because the instrument has always held a special place in my heart and because I have never been to an organ recital before. She played six pieces, three of which I took special notice of.

Joy is Trust

My sister ran across some old writing of mine as she cleaned out her desk tonight. Thought I would share it with y'all.

Joy does not always laugh.

Sometimes Joy cries.
Sometimes you weep, and sometimes you feel insecure.
Unsure of the future; unsure of how your past will effect that future.
But Joy presses on.
Joy has hope.

Sometimes you are so desperate, your life is in ruins
and you look at the fragments of what once was your all
and you mourn.
But Joy remembers.

Joy remembers that God promised never to abandon.
In the midst of anguish you will fall broken into his arms
And He will heal.
It will hurt. You will cry. You will struggle
But in the end, Joy smiles and Joy will laugh.

Just because you didn't always laugh
doesn't mean you didn't have Joy.

Joy is Trust.

True Will by Liturgy - Review

As many of you know, I love classical music. When I was five years old I had already decided that I was going to be a concert pianist and tour the world playing my favorite song, Beethoven's Fur Elise. Well It's been fifteen years now and although I am no where near touring the world as a concert pianist, I have long been able to play Fur Elise. I am going to college now as a major in piano performance. I am surrounded by classical music every day and I love it. Almost every CD I own is classical music and my first purchases on iTunes were of the same ilk. When I was fourteen my ring tone was the opening lines of Beethoven's 5th. As you can see, classical music is a defining factor in my life. However, there are many other kinds of music I enjoy listening to, such as jazz, Gregorian chants, pop, indie, hymns, bluegrass, 20's and 30's music, classic rock, country, and rap.

This photo is not mine, here is where I got it from.

One of the things I am really enjoying since starting college is the music club that a friend of mine started. Every week we pick out songs and send it to my friend and he puts it on CDs and passes them out to everyone in the club. On Friday we meet at ten o'clock with snacks, tea, and coffee to talk about the music. We love exploring new artists and styles of music and try to pick out the most obscure ones we know of. Consequently almost every song is one that I have never heard of before and I love it! This weeks CD had a lot of good songs on it but one in particular I found especially intriguing.

Dancing at Lughnasa

Two weeks ago Friday I went to a play. The last time I remember going to a play was with my third grade class in South Carolina. We saw a silly version of Cinderella that I absolutely despised. This play however, was much different than the one from so many years ago. It was called Dancing at Lugnsasa and was being put on by theatre department of the university I'm attending so consequently it was free to all college students. (Say whaa??) I didn't go alone of course and went with my boyfriend and two others.

Somehow muscadines have become synonymous with an idealized past and despite their disappointing taste brings with them a comforting sense of belonging. 

Wearing Shoes Every Day: College

As many of you know already, this was my first week of college. As fewer of you may know, this is my first real weekend in ten years. Why do I say that? Well, I've been home-schooled all of my life except for half a semester in third grade about ten or eleven years ago. It may not have occurred to you before, but I have never relished the weekends like you non-home-schoolers/working people do. What, it's Friday? Last day of school? Nope. Not for me. I did school on Saturday too. Mayyybe I went to the beach on Wednesday... but that's besides the point. I just never got it. What is so special about Friday and Saturday?

Keeping it real here. My first day of school pictures for the first time since 3rd Grade were put on hold while my brother and I gathered up all the chickens that had gotten out and put them back in their yard. 

Well, yesterday... I got it y'all. I left my last class in the rehearsal hall at 2:15 eager to chunk my backpack in my car and hurry up and relax. When I sat down in the chairs in the lobby of my favorite building, The Center for Fine and Performing Arts at the University of West Florida, I sighed in relief. I'm done! It's the weekend! Yay! That my friends, is a feeling this home-schooled girl never imagined she would feel. Yes. I've jumped on board. I love the weekends too. I promise, I'll stop making fun of all a' y'all now. ;)

I've experienced some other new things this week besides just the weekend though. Like a daily alarm clock setting; wearing make-up every day; having to find decent clothes everyday; packing a lunch or at least making sure I have enough money to buy lunch so that I don't keel over dead in the middle of the day.; carrying my water bottle around and not losing it (although I haven't been the most successful with that.); wearing shoes all day every single day; and here's the million dollar question I know y'all have been waiting for... how did I deal with all the people?

Untangling Knots and Tying Strings

I woke with a start.  I scooched to the edge of my bed and squinted my eyes as I tried to make out the numbers on the clock.  The digits glowed a dim orange but it was still a few seconds before my tired eyes adjusted to the light.  Still, it wasn’t time.  I continued to stare at the clock and tried not to fall asleep. 

I don’t believe it was every night but in my memories it seems like it was.  I was about nine years old.  I would stay up and wait for my favorite radio program to come on.  It probably started somewhere around ten o’clock.

After what seemed like ages it was finally time.  I readjusted my pillows, my blankets, and tried to shove our big dog away from me.  I turned the volume down low so that my sister wouldn’t wake and laid perfectly still so as not to make the tiniest noise.  Out of the speakers came the eeriest of sounds.  Outer space music.  It made me feel small and made my young mind ask questions.  What is out there? How big is God? Where is Heaven? Are aliens real? The surreal sounds would take me to an entirely different world; Sometimes it was frightening, sometimes I would get lost, and sometimes it was breathtaking – Always, it was filled with wonderment. 

Starry Night has always been my favorite Vincent van Gogh piece. This painting expresses exactly the way the outer space music made me feel.

What Does My Future Hold?

I think I have a propensity for missing out on good conversations. Or maybe I always miss my cue. Or, I don't recognize a good thing until after its gone. Whatever the reason, I always find myself thinking back and wishing I had said something. It's a good thing I have a blog. I have found it is useful, on more than one occasion, to artificially go back and say exactly what I wish I had. Of course it is never as good as saying it in person but one could argue that it is better than not saying anything at all.

If there is one thing I have learned in my life, it is that I know nothing.

If I had to guess, I think my future will probably have a lot more of this in it - piano and funny faces.

There was a time when my life made sense, a time when everything appeared to be under control.
I was like any other little girl back then, dreaming about my future with no concern for anything but the present. At eight years old I had my whole life planned out. I would grow up and go to Clemson University in South Carolina. I would learn music and become a concert pianist. I'd travel the world with my sister and her friend in our RV with our three horses while playing piano for a myriad of audiences. One day I would meet a handsome man and he would become my husband. We'd get married on horseback and for our honeymoon we'd hike across all of North America. After that we would buy a house. I would teach piano lessons and home-school our children. Then I would climb down from the tree where I had been dreaming and run inside to play with my siblings.

Biblical Horizons, 2015

Last week, July 20-24th, Mom and I had the privilege to attend the Biblical Horizons conference in Valparaiso Florida. It was a week long event that started at 8:30 in the morning and concluded at 8:30 in the evening after a long break during the afternoon. 

Our esteemed speakers this year were; Jeff Meyers, Uri Brito, Richard Bledsoe, Peter Leithart, and James Jordon

The topics considered this year were:

The Book of Joshua by James B. Jordon
Wealth Management in the Gospel According to St. Luke by Jeffrey J. Meyers
End of the End: Orientation to Revelation by Peter J. Leithart
The Christian Counseling Movement by Uri Brito
A look into psychiatric drugs based on experiences as a chaplain at his local hospital by Richard Bledsoe (This one didn't have a title so this is the best I could come up with)

I had a good time, and although the lectures were a little beyond me I did manage to glean some good counsel and being exposed to new ideas is almost always a good thing. I met new people and had good conversations in addition to spending some quality time with my mother. I learned new music as well at the nightly Vespers services both by singing and, although it wasn't planned, playing the music because their original pianist had to leave town suddenly. We ate lunches with people, spent time at the beach, did a little shopping, and stayed late in the evenings at the fellowships/meals/parties afterwards.

Although it might not be exactly descriptive of the conference itself, here are some pictures of our adventures during our breaks in the afternoons.

Tonight I Sit

Insomnia. I'm not sure if I have it or not but sometimes, like tonight, even though I am sleepy, I can't seem to fall asleep.

I tossed and turned in my bed. I curled up into a tiny ball. I hugged my pillow so tight that the feathers were about to burst. I talked to my sister. (One of the perks of sharing a room. Also one of the drawbacks if you are the one sleeping and your sister is the one who can't.) I got down from my bed and did some sit-ups in the middle of the floor. Finally I announced to my sleepy roommate that I was going outside to listen to some music.

Conveniently, I took a picture of this honeysuckle blossom a few nights ago. I can say that it is supposed to represent the sweet thoughts that came to me out of the dark night. ;)

As quietly as possible I opened the cantankerous piece of wood that we call a door and slipped out into the muggy Florida night. The air was heavy and the bugs were thick. I picked my way across the driveway to the sidewalk, being careful not to step on any toads, and sat myself down in the broken beach chair that was abandoned there after our last trip to the lake. Of course, because my hair is so thick and long and crazy, in the short amount of time it took me to get out there my earphones got all tangled up in my unruly locks. After extracting the wires from my hairy mess I was finally able to turn my music on.

What Have You Been Doing this Summer?

 "So what have you been doing all summer?"

That is the question I was asked yesterday at lunch that I never really answered. I started to answer by leaning back in my chair (or forward, I don't remember, I just know I moved around in my seat) and saying something like "Oh man, a lot has happened this summer. My life is so different now than what is used to be." I paused awkwardly for a second trying to figure out how to proceed but then my phone rang and I was saved from answering immediately. After the phone call I kind of avoided going back to the question and our conversation continued on swimmingly thanks to the "amiableness" of my companion.

Still I kind of feel bad for never answering. It's not that I didn't want to, I was just unprepared to answer such a simple question because I feel like I have a complicated answer. It's not that a lot has happened this summer, but a lot has come into fruition this summer. I mention often, in somewhat veiled language, the difficult life I had before and to be sitting here now in my current situation is something that is nothing short of miraculous to me.

Friends From South Carolina

Some of you may not know this about me, but I was born in South Carolina. I'm not sure if I am what people call a "Southern Belle" since my mom was from Missouri and my dad lived in Michigan - his mom however grew up in the marshes of Alabama so I tend to identify myself as a Southern girl. I lived in the foot hills of the Smokey Mountains and grew up seeing snacks like pig ears, onion rings, and pickled eggs on the shelves in the grocery store. We didn't buy them of course because of my mixed heritage but I ate them sometimes at friends houses. The dirt roads were orange and the pine trees were so tall they seemed always about ready to topple over on me. I painted T-shirts and fence posts with squashed poke-weed berries and I mashed the buttons on the elevators. My parents watched NASCAR and shouted at the TV screen while I played in the backyard. I loved watching the Dukes of Hazard and would try to pull the same stunts as the General Lee did on my little pink and purple bicycle. I lived the first story of my life there in South Carolina for eleven years until we moved to Missouri. 

It's not the best picture, but it gets the point across, we went canoeing down Clear Water Creek. Oh, and there's that one kayak in the back.

While we lived there in my birth state we had many adventures, adventures that were shared with in particular, the Courtney family. This past week two of these long lost "family members" came to visit for a few days. I won't try to reconstruct our week for you but I just wanted to share a few pictures here on my blog instead of blowing up my Instagram feed. I'm thinking of all a' y'all, my sixty-two Instagram followers, so thank me please. ;) 

Orientation at University of West Florida 2015

I must warn y'all before you start reading this post that it is going to be pretty long. I just couldn't help myself this time!

 Okay.... what the heck Jamie!? Why are you turned backwards! Anyways, this was my group for orientation. 

These last five days have been super busy for me. It started out as a normal weekend on Friday. I drove myself to piano lessons, then went to teach a piano lesson. I filled up my gas tank, went to the bank and ran a few errands... I don't remember what they were but almost every Friday without fail I have something I have to go do. Saturday came and I woke up at 5 am to get ready to volunteer at a run that was going on in Pensacola called the Run 4 Hope. All proceeds from the run go to Christian charity organizations. My younger brother Levi decided to participate in the 5K run so he slapped on his boots and blue jeans and came along with us. My mom and I were working at a water booth at the one mile mark with other folks from our church. I've never volunteered at a run before so this was a fun new experience for me.

After the run there were food and drinks available for everyone and booths with information about the ministries the run was supporting. There was also a chin up bar where a competition got started to see who could do the most. I had fun cheering and watching everyone's neck muscles bulge and their faces turning red. The highest count was twenty two! Levi did eleven.

After the run I went to the farmers market and bought zucchini, cucumber, a cantaloupe, corn, and a spaghetti squash. After the market I stopped at Reynold's Music House in downtown Pensacola, did a little shopping at Target and TJ Max, then met up with Mom, Dad, and two of my younger brothers to go to the same adoption picnic we attended a year ago before we had met my four foster brothers. (I mention it briefly in this post here.) This time it was at the beach so we had a lot of fun.

After the picnic I was dropped back off to my car because I had to pick up some contact solution which I had forgotten to get earlier in the day. When I finally got home the day was almost over but I spent about an hour going through the music for church the next day.

Sunday morning came and I accidentally got up a half hour earlier than I needed to. *sad face*. Sunday's are normally pretty tiring for me but this Sunday was especially exhausting. After church everyone rushed out of the building as quickly as possible because everyone was going to head over to the Smith's house for a big summer fish fry/going away party for the Anderson family. The food and drinks were delicious, and we had all sorts of fun playing in the water. I went kayaking, swimming, paddle boarding and jet skiing. There were other things to do like playing ring toss, giant hula hoops, knee boarding, and getting pulled behind the boat on the biscuit and trying not to get knocked off. I pushed little kids on the swings and showed them interesting creatures you could find in the rocks and sand/muck of the bay.

This is downstairs at the Smith's house. Their home is raised up on stilts so there is plenty of space below for ping-pong, foosball, pool, a mini basketball hoop, Mr. Ron's shop, and plenty of storage for water toys and floats and what not.

When the party was over we didn't leave... my parents kept on talking. The sun had long since went to bed and I desperately wanted to follow. Alas, I was stuck there with no bed in sight. I mean, I like a good party, but you can't stay forever! When we finally got in the van to head home I said in a pitiful voice "I sure hope I don't have orientation tomorrow!"

Breaking the Silence

Sometimes the silence is unbearable. Don't be afraid to make some noise.

This is the thought that slipped into my head a few weeks ago and it still hasn't come out. There is a book coming out called Tear Down this Wall of Silence by Dale Ingraham and Rebecca Davis. It's about sexual abuse in the church and how we should handle it. I haven't read it, but I believe my mom has and if you're friends with her on Facebook; then I am sure you have seen her post about it a few times. Even though I've never been sexually abused, this title still resonates deeply with me.

When I was young Mom gave me a small paperback book called Dorie: The Girl Nobody Loved. It was dark blue and had a simple line drawing of a little girl looking up at a particular constellation in the sky. I remember laying in the bed of our small pickup truck at my brother's football practice. It was night and the lights were so bright on the field, that it was almost day. The story was about this little girl and how she grew up being sexually abused and how she dealt with it becoming an adult. Gazing up at the ink black sky, searching for that constellation, I learned compassion. I am thankful that Mom gave me that book to read. It is one of the key points that God used to open my eyes to see others suffering.

All Sorts of Waters - Wild Beach Pictures

We went to the beach yesterday and that is what inspired me to write about all the different kinds of waters I've been to. I took pictures too so I'll be working them in throughout the text even though its not directly related.

I've had a pretty eclectic experience when it comes to growing up with different kinds of waters. Our family has always been active and my parents made a point to take us as many places as they could.

One of those places was the mountains. Mom and Dad would take the four of us kids (this was long before Jubal was born) on weekend camping trips so often that we practically didn't have time to put our sleeping bags away. We lived in South Carolina at the time so went to the Smokey Mountains, which is at the tail end of the Blue Ridge Mountain range. The drive was part of the adventure and I remember being able to recognize the roads because we went that way so often. Up there in the clouds we would go on hiking trips or playing in the freezing cold mountain streams, sliding down slippery rocks or standing underneath pounding waterfalls and swimming in the pools formed below them.

When we weren't in the mountains we would go to the lake. There was a lake called Lake Hartwell (we called it Lake Cartwheel) that we frequented. Once we had a bonfire there with some friends and Uncle Mike melted the souls of his shoes and my friend Emily swallowed a fish and got sick. Someone else got their fishing line stuck in a tree. Once time I went walking along the red clay shore a long ways from the group an found an old log and some dog poop. Other lakes we visited were Lake Jocassee and Lake Keowee which were much bigger and colder. I remember some kind of party at one of these big lakes. We went boating and water skiing and I almost lost my goggles. Another time I went with my friend for her birthday to Lake Keowee. There was a low rock cliff face, probably about thirty feet, and at the foot of the cliff a shallow shelf of rock just beneath the water . At the top of the cliff blue lines were painted on the rock and if you ran and jumped far enough out you would miss the rocks below and land safely in the icy cold water. I was there with my friend and her brother and their dad said he would give us a dollar if we would jumped off. Of course a dollar was a substantial sum of money in my mind back then so quick as a wink I ran through the blue lines and launched myself into the air. The fall was thrilling and folks cheered me when they saw my head bob up from the lake below. My friend and her brother were too scared and eventually their Dad said he would give them five dollars so they jumped too. I was mad at my friends because they got more money than me.