Accio Adventure!

There are few things in life I enjoyed more in my childhood than reading Harry Potter. I know, I know- everyone and their brother who happened to grow up in the 1990s/2000s would consider themselves fans of the franchise. But unlike many of the fans who dressed up as obscure book characters for the midnight releases of the novels and movies (which I never did, by the way), I find myself drawn to the story for more reasons than just an entertaining plot line and intriguing characters. Reading these books, I was both captivated by an adventure and challenged by the truths that the story presented. Many of my peers were forbidden to read the series, as it contained "witchcraft", but I honestly believe they missed out and I plan on rectifying the situation by requiring my future children to add it to their reading lists. Here's why.

1. Let's start with the fact that the story is adventurous and imaginative. I mean, really, who can come up with such an original, detailed world that you can't wait to delve into? J.K. Rowling, that's who. And while, yes, sometimes the writing itself leaves a little something to be desired in the way of sophistication, her created universe is colorful and textured. And let's be real, she can actually write when compared to many contemporary authors (cough*Stephanie Meyer*cough).

2. To me, Harry Potter embodies more than just a childhood fancy. At its core, the tale is about good triumphing over evil, how the choices we make are more important than the life we are born into, that we all have value and should treat each other like it, that standing up for what's right isn't always easy and demands selflessness. There are few books (classic, modern, or otherwise) that challenge me as strongly to put others before self. I know that these aren't "Christian" books, but you know what? I see a lot of examples of how I'm called to treat others and view this world in the pages of those books. I'd much rather my children get something out of those books than LOTS of others I see out there.

3. I am not a feminist, by any means, but I think that the books are empowering to women. Laugh if you want, but if you spend 95% of your childhood reading (like I did), you start to pick up on portrayals of characters to whom you can relate. One of the first times I felt okay about being unpopular, nerdy, and smart was when I read about Hermione. She went on adventures, she outsmarted everyone around her, and she was not pretty- flawed and better for it, just like me. And even when relationships between the characters began to develop and inevitably fall apart, Rowling never let Hermione crumble out of the picture. With or without a man by her side, she still remains loyal to her friends, fights for what is right, and is truly beautiful because she has character. That's the kind of lesson I want my daughters to learn.

4. As a Christian, I think it's very good to stay away from witchcraft. But for the record,the "spells" in the books are just Latin phrases. Seriously, once I started paying attention to some of phrases in the book, my grasp on Latin vocabulary increased exponentially. And now I have a B.A. in Latin. True story.

And that is why my kids will be reading Happy Potter.

"Of course this is happening inside your head, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"

Resolute

Resolutions are made to be broken. At least, that's all I heard as people rang in 2012. It seems to be a pattern in our culture to make a show of things, only to turn around and blame others and excuse ourselves. I'm not trying to be cynical, but look around you. It is now a running American joke that we will "sign up at the gym" on January 1st and return to sedentary lifestyles by the 15th. This year, I'm deciding to do something different. I've decided not to make resolutions but to be RESOLUTE (if you are like me, this undoubtedly conjures up a scene from "National Treasure"). Rather than focus on things outside myself that I'd like to accomplish, I want to spend this year focusing on who I'm becoming... some ideas:

1. A lover of justice- someone who takes a stand and seizes opportunities to right wrongs.

2. A truer friend- a person who tries to communicate with, pray for, and give more of herself to those who she is blessed to have in her life.

3. A wiser steward- someone who spends her time and treasure well, serving as many others as possible.

4. A passionate learner- a student who is humble enough to realize what others have to offer her.

As I ponder these things,a joy and a desire to see these fruits in my own life is being awakened in me. I yearn to be resolute this year, not because I am able to do this on my own, but because, with God, being resolute can last significantly longer than 2 weeks :)

"Hold on to this lullaby,
even when the music's gone..."

A Beautiful Prayer

I haven't blogged in awhile, mostly because nursing school has a way of eating up free time. Between hospital shifts, labs, lectures, and studying for each of the aforementioned things, my recreational activities are limited to (maybe) a few minutes of fun reading before bed and eating (hopefully) at normal intervals.

My heart was stirred to write tonight by something that has been weighing heavily on my heart. A few nights ago, a friend of mine was in a terrible car accident. Now, we're not very close friends; in fact, I have only been around him on occasion and mostly we are friendly acquaintances. But at this moment he isn't doing too well. And I don't know if it's because I know what the medical jargon being tossed around so blatantly really means, but I'm scared. The fact is, even though I don't know him well, I've seen Jesus in the way this guy serves and treats people. I also know that our mutual friends are shocked and hurting as they pray for his recovery and peace. One of his friends has started a blog to let people know how he's progressing, and as I read the last entry I was struck by one thing. As people have been gathering in the waiting room for news and prayer, they have been burdened to pray for one thing in particular- that those caring for my friend would come to know Jesus. Only in a community of truly devoted children of God would you see people praying for the salvation of the night nurse of a dying friend. Really? I don't know if I'd be selfless and strong enough to pray that kind of prayer. Father, turn my heart into one that hungers for salvation in the middle of a storm! And if the 3 of you out there who follow me think about it, please please please pray for my friend Philip, his family, and that those caring for him would see Christ.

"Could all that is lost ever be found?
Could a garden come up from this ground, at all?
You make beautiful things,
You make beautiful things out of dust.
You make beautiful things,
You make beautiful things out of us."

Forget diamonds... tattoos are forever

After months of seeking out every sketchy tattoo parlor in the greater Lexington and Louisville areas, my friend Courtney and I finally took the plunge and got tattoos last weekend. Most people who know me would be shocked to hear this, but just because I'm conservative doesn't mean I didn't want a tattoo. And did I ever!

Not only did I- the germophobic pain-intolerant pre-nurse that I am- willingly pay for someone to stab me with a needle, I also chose one of the most painful spots to get a tattoo (ribs). To clarify, I wasn't trying to be tough- it was just one of the best places to cover up a tattoo when working/interviewing/impressing potential suitors and/or in-laws. While I lived up to to the "pain-intolerant" title (because *shockingly*, a needle in the ribs really hurts), Courtney was a beast. Her tattoo was MUCH larger and she barely flinched. Barn girls.

But this experience has been a good reminder to me of being adopted into God's family. I have been branded as a child of God by the grace of Jesus. I may not have ink under my skin that affirms this, but God has graven my name on His heart. He has marked himself on my behalf, and now I have tried to do the same for Him. A few months ago, during the children's lesson time at church, the pastor was telling the kids that God had written each of their names on His hands because He loved them so much. One of the kids spoke up, "God must have REALLY BIG hands." May you rest in that truth, friends. Our God has really big hands :)

Things I Love Today...

Doing a head count of my class while they're in the pool and getting the correct number. Every time.

The knowledge that Christmas is less than 5 months away.

Not getting bit by a snake as I walk home through the woods.

The perfect combination of blueberry and chocolate flavors for dessert.

The realization that I will be done with school soonish.

Coldplay's new single.

The feeling of every one of cells jolting awake as I sip a steaming mug of coffee in the too-early morning.

The end.

Never Say Never

Let this blog post be the record of things I once said I would never do but have recently found myself doing...

1. Dyeing my hair. I know, I know- you should never make a decision about your hair while in the middle of a life crisis. But there wasn't really anything else I wanted to do more after the shock of being dumped wore off. And I learned my lesson. It won't likely happen again.

2. Returning to Alabama. This one's tricky. I went back for my cousin's wedding, and discovered a lot. For example, I learned my brother is much bigger than me, my mom has a tattoo, and I don't like alcohol. Also I came back as one large, walking mosquito bite. Good trip.

3. Admitting that I listen to Justin Bieber.I somehow convinced my sister that I deserved a "Congratulations-for-getting-into-nursing-school" gift, and I requested all of her JB songs. Needless to say, I am enjoying my new music.


After seeing my family and spending countless time with my siblings, I've been thinking a lot about my sister Amy that passed away. Someone mentioned during my family's visit that she would be in high school now. That makes me feel so old :) But as sad as it is to wonder what having another sister would be like, it feels like every member of my family fits in just the right way. I felt such peace looking at the connections I have with my siblings. We are all so different from each other, but I love being with them and I'm proud to see what is next for each of them in the coming year.


"Everything will be fine, everything in no time at all,
hold your own, know your name, and go your own way."

I'm a Twitterer-er...

After being dumped, most girls dye their hair an unnatural color, listen to angry break-up songs, and host a burning party to destroy unwanted relics of their crumbled relationship. I have only mustered enough energy to have my split-ends trimmed and to sign up for a Twitter account. Way to stick it to the man, Sam.

So instead of spending evenings making myself sick eating self-pity ice cream, I spend my free time wracking my brain for a reason, any reason, that I deserved having my heart broken. Inevitably, I start wondering if I could have won him over had I been prettier, skinnier, smarter, more ambitious, more compassionate. I have no doubt that improvement in any of these things is both possible and necessary. But I have nothing to go on, no idea what I could have done differently. I am literally at a loss.

Last week was Mother's Day, and it reminded me of how grateful I am for my mom. She has a knack for raising independent, well-rounded children, if I do say so myself :) But it also got me wondering what kind of mother I will hopefully be someday (read: in the VERY VERY distant future). Probably the kind that thinks dressing her kids to look like they stepped out of a BabyGap ad is not worth the battle it will be getting them to look that way. And probably the kind that thinks the best cure for any ailment involves homemade chicken soup and a John Steinbeck novel. Yep, I can see now that my children will be mismatched, soup-gluttonous readers. That said, I'd like to send a big shout-out to my mom who even now answers my questions about filing taxes and roasting turkeys. Thanks, Ma.

One Art

Tonight I was reminded of a poem I had to memorize for my AP English Literature class. My teacher was a Scottish woman (sounds cooler than it actually was) who couldn't remember that my name wasn't Sarah- a fact made even more humorous when my sister Molly also took the class and kept getting called Mary. Despite the questionable lifestyle of its author, this poem sums up my week and remains one of my favorite pieces of writing.

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

There are a few things I've lost this week, too. Like 10 pounds. And 2 hours of my life doing taxes that I didn't actually have to file. And my best friend. Maybe someday- not today- but someday, I'll master the art of losing, too.

Lessons from a Thrift Shop

I am counting down the days until I leave for camp. I have no doubt that the next two months of my life will be stressful, bug-filled, and messy :) But I think that I would have it no other way. I love that I don't know quite what to expect. This is new for me, of course. I am normally the type of person that wants to plan things out in advance and write lists of the million things that must be completed. But slowly, God is showing me a new side of myself. I've always loved going on adventures, and I see now that many are ones you can't plan for.

Since being home, I have attempted to take each of my siblings on "dates" to spend time visiting and catching up with them. Caleb and I went to a movie, and Molly and I have gone on several adventures since my arrival. But today was my day with Addie. We went out shopping, mostly because I figured we should bond over something she actually enjoys (I, however, took one for the team as I dislike shopping vehemently)! After a yummy lunch, she took me to a wonderful thrift shop that had the power to change my hatred of shopping to at least a vague appreciation. If I'm going to shop, I like thrift shopping. To me, there is nothing like looking at old things and dreaming up the stories behind them. I mean, really, how did they get here? To what neck did that vintage cameo necklace belong? How many crayons have scribbled over the carved oak table in their pursuit of preschool art projects and research papers? I like looking at these things so much better than the pristine new things in the department stores because they have character, a past. I loved spending time with my sister, too. It was a good reminder that we can disagree on so many things, but we still love spending time with each other. Someone once told me that love is authentic when we have something to lose. I think today was a good reminder of that. I love Addie, and even though we are polar opposites, her friendship is worth risking disagreement or misunderstanding between both of us.

Between graduating and being separated from so many people I love, I am learning. God is showing me how to pray ceaselessly. How to love authentically. How to hope unfailingly. How to trust unreservedly. I think it will be worth the risk :)

"Though my edges may be rough and I may never feel like quite enough,
And it may not seem like very much, but I'm yours..."

Death and Taxes

There are some things in life that are inevitable. For example, I will ALWAYS miss a spot when shaving my legs and agree to look foolish if given the opportunity to go on an adventure. It is not surprising to me, then, that another of life's truths is that my best plans will inevitably fall through. At this moment, I am one of countless homeless, jobless college graduates. I spend my days babysitting my family's high-strung puppy and wondering how much cleaning is too much cleaning. Despite this, I am trying to trust that my move to Portland (or more accurately, wherever I get into a nursing program)will be revealed in time. Until then, I will continue finding things to clean and prepare for camp!

My friend, Kris, left this morning to spend two months in Honduras. I am so excited for him I could burst, but I'm a little sad as well. Even though it's only for a while, I feel like I will be without one of my best friends for the next eight weeks. In the midst of this, I realized that I am jealous. I am jealous of Honduras for getting to have Kris all summer; but more importantly, I am jealous of Kris for getting to go to Honduras and serve there this summer. Now, I know jealousy is a bad trait to have. As a sister in Christ, my love for Kris should have absolutely no hint of jealousy. But there is an upside. After feeling jealous, I feel very affirmed that I am being called into missions, because I know how desperately I feel called to be working overseas. If my reaction was any less passionate, I would question my aspiration to make missions a vital part of my life. And so, while I had to ask for forgiveness for acting jealously, I am confident that the Lord is
changing my desires into His desires to see me sent to the nations. Really cool.

To end, I will tell a story about one of the little girls I am nannying for until I leave for camp. I was playing Pretty Little Ponies with Jillian, while simultaneously chasing her baby sister, Madeline,around the house. Jillian had been pretty patient with my lack of participation until she finally called out to me, "Sam, one of the ponies is lost. Who will help me save it?" I told her that I would be there to help, and assured her that she was the perfect person to go save the pony. It seems silly, but I wonder how many times God looks at me, shaking his head, saying, "Sam, if you see a need, meet it. I have equipped you, I will go with you, and you are just the person I had in mind to send." I pray that I never miss an opportunity to go precisely where the Lord has called me.

"Missed the last train home, birds pass by to tell me that I'm not alone.
Over-pushing myself to finish this part, I can handle a lot...
But one thing I'm missing is in your eyes."

Teachings in Trust, part I

A few weeks ago, as I was lamenting the confusion of romantic relationships aloud to a couple friends, one of them turned to me and said, "Well, if someone is confusing you that much, maybe its a sign that you shouldn't start a relationship with that person." And while I love my friend dearly, I have come to the conclusion that she's sorely mistaken. In this particular instance, I don't think this guy meant in any way, shape, or form to confuse me. But more importantly, when I think about any future relationship I may I have with this guy or anyone else, I don't buy that it will always be easy or clear, and I certainly don't believe that our lack of understanding someone's motivation should stop us from searching for the right answers. I'm sure that when I am in a serious romantic relationship I will have to work hard to love that man the way Christ loves him. On some difficult days, I might have to mentally make the choice to love him for that day. But nothing worth fighting for comes easily, and I think that connecting to others, whether through friendships or relationships, is a worthy cause to which we are all called. Indeed, I used to think that God was the only faithful and trustworthy person in my life, and in a way this is true. God IS the only constant truth in life. But I used this a really sorry excuse to doubt the good in others, whom the Lord has in reality brought into my life to teach me to trust. How many people have I pushed away, believing that they were untrustworthy, who were placed in my life specifically for this purpose? And in the case of this gentleman, I want to learn from my mistakes. I desperately desire to open up to him and trust him because he has earned my trust. God has brought him into my life for many reasons, but one of them is to teach me to have a little faith in people. For once, I think I finally understand this.

In much less important news, I am looking for a dress for a Junior-Senior event in a few weeks. Honestly, how hard should it be to find a green, a-line, sophisticated, inexpensive formal dress (in my size)....? If my search thus far is any indication, it will be impossible. But when your competition is the entire population of female high-schoolers in Lexington looking for their own prom dresses, dress shopping becomes an adventure :)

"The smell of you in every single dream I dream,
I knew when we collided,
you're the one I have decided who's one of my kind..."

What Happens in Vancouver....

A few minutes ago, I heard an Olympics commentator say (about a luger), “Just look at those long German arms. Aren’t they just beautiful?!?” Hehe. Oh, the things you hear on TV.

So for some reason, I have been thinking about chivalry lately. I realize that I am a sucker for chivalrous men. Now before everyone starts burning their bras, I’d like to explain myself. I love men. I love that they can lift heavy things. I love that they smell manly. I even love that their humor is sometimes akin to a 3-year-old's. And I love being able to look pretty, and cook yummy treats, and keep things tidy. You see, it’s not that I can’t open doors for myself or twist the lids off my own stubborn jars. I very well could. But I like that men are around to help with these sorts of things. And the fact that I don’t need their help, but that they choose to help me out in these ways out of the goodness of their hearts, makes chivalry a little more meaningful. They aren’t chivalrous because I’m weak and powerless, but rather because they are showing appreciation to me. So I don’t mind letting a man offer to change the oil in my car as long as I can bake him cookies to thank him!

It is also Valentine's Day. Yuck. Too commercial. But thankfully, God is still teaching me a lot through a holiday (I believe) has lost it's true meaning. There have been countless moments in my life where I have been absolutely humbled and appalled by Jesus' sacrifice for me on the cross. But I think I had it in my head that, when Jesus took on our sin and was separated from God, God was absent and couldn't even look upon Jesus (due to the sin He' d taken on). The more I read and study, however, I'm learning that I'm probably wrong. I imagine any father who sends his son to take the blame for crimes he didn't commit would be heartbroken. I imagine he would ache for his son. I imagine he wouldn't be able to look at his son, not because the son sinned, but because it hurts the father too much to see the son suffering. And now I feel Christ's sacrifice so much more richly, because it would have easy for God to look on us and blame us for His Son's pain (as we are guilty of this). But somehow He doesn't. He looks down on us in love. Even when I mess up, which is all the time, I am still covered in grace. I knew all of this, but it's good to be reminded, especially on Valentine's Day. And I don't think they make a Hallmark card for that.

'We should get jerseys 'cause we make a good team,

but yours would look better than mine 'cause you're outta my league..."

Now I'm Free Fallin'

Someday, when I find a nice young man who I can convince to put up with me for the rest of my life, I will get married on a day exactly like today has been. I woke up to find a beautiful white layer of snow quilting my path to the library. Call me crazy, but I don't care. I want a cold, wintery wedding. Oh yes.

So now I sit enveloped by books on Hippocrates at my almost-favorite table in the library. My Tetley tea is hot and prepared just the way I like it (milk, no sugar). Overall, life is good. My Haitian babies have a few supplies, at least enough to hold them until we can send a team down in a couple weeks. I have been so busy with worry for them and schoolwork that the past weeks have flown by.

God is doing a magnificent new work in me. I am continuing to learn more about His joy through my heartache, but it's as if something new is being birthed in my heart. I am beginning to feel a strong restlessness to go to Asia. And it doesn't feel like anything I've experienced before. I mean, I've always wanted to travel to Africa and China and India and Haiti and countless other places. But my heart feels like it's literally being pulled to China right now, like it wants to burst out and board a plane on its own. It's a strange (almost physical) sensation. I am also being called by God to trust Him more now than ever before, which is already so difficult for me. He's asking me to get out of my comfort zone by going to a new place after graduation, a place where I have only a few contacts and where I will truly be on my own. He's asking me to trust that a relationship (that may or may not be forthcoming) with someone will work out to His perfection. Indeed, I'm trying my hardest to be patient and allow this fellow to pursue me, not the other way around. In all, I'm terrified and exhilarated by this upcoming season of my life. I can't wait to see where I'm being led. Goodbye, Wilmore.....Hello Portland!

"She's a good girl, loves her momma, loves Jesus, and America too..."

I left my heart in Haiti

I'm heartbroken. I wish with every cell of my body that I could be in Haiti with the kids. Since the earthquake, people have come up to me to tell me how sorry they are and to ask if I've heard any news. The trouble is, nothing I say can express the scope of my worry and the pain I feel in my heart. I worry because Meola has been hungry for 5 days. I worry that David doesn't have a secure place to sleep tonight. And I have other worries, too. I pray that Jonas will be able to attend his classes sooner rather than later, and that Johnny comes back from the university safely, and that Chrispin will be able to make it to Haiti and get to the orphanage very quickly. I worry because just over a week ago, I skyped with all my Haitian babies. I saw their faces and heard their words. I promised them I would try to visit them soon. Gabieson shouted " I enjoy you!" through the computer screen and Sonson piped up in the background that he wanted me to come see him in March. I didn't realize that a week later I would be praying for these people to somehow find enough food and water to sustain all of them, plus the 40 new orphans that have sought haven with them.

Please be in prayer for them. I wish I could say more about how I'm feeling, but the best way to describe it might be how I imagine a mother would feel knowing that her children were in danger. I cannot fathom a mother's love, but if it anything like the fierce, overwhelming need to be with them and shelter them and fight to the death for them that I feel now, then I can see a slight reflection of the power of a mother's love. And even more powerfully, I rest in the fact that my Heavenly Father loves them even more fiercely than I do and truly did fight for them to the death. And I feel a little more reassured that food and water will come, and that David will rest safely with the rest of them. That schools and homes and lives will be rebuilt. That I will make it down to see them soon.

Updates from a New Year

Last night, I took a walk in the snow. It was gorgeous...the kind of snow that glitters as it meanders slowly to the ground. If it wasn't so cold, I would have sat in a snow drift as the flakes buried me in joy. But alas, I was too numb to stay out for longer than 15 minutes.

This past Christmas was both the hardest and the most joyful I've ever experienced. My time at home was so relaxing and rejuvenating. And Urbana was amazing...God opened my eyes to becoming the incarnation in the most difficult places in the world. I'm really excited to serve somewhere...anywhere. God is moving in China and Africa and India and South America. And I want to go to them all :) This break was countered only slightly by some of the scariest news I've ever received: that a mole I had removed contained cancerous cells. I'm going to be fine, but it will be a couple weeks before I know that it is all gone and that I'm completely healed. And to think that I almost didn't go to the doctor to have it looked at...God is so good to me, even when I have no idea of how He's working!

And now I am headed into my last semester of undergrad. Time flies, but I hope that this doesn't fly too fast...there's still so much for me to learn! I'm only slightly less socially awkward than when I started :)

"I think I figured it out
We need to be together
Like the shore and the sea..."

A taste of that yet to come...

It is a gray day today in Wisconsin. It seems to be the perfect setting to stay in eating turkey, sipping hot cranberry tea, and playing some Christmas music. I wonder what the next year will bring, and I am excited and terrified all at once at the possibilities. Short-term, the next few weeks are probably my favorite time of the year. I will bake cathedral windows and cookies. There will be parties to attend, hats and mittens to wear, snow to play in, and a few traditional movies to watch. I will sing "Santa Baby" at the top of my lungs whenever I want and don a ridiculous paper crown at Christmas dinner (as is the British custom). I will eat one (understand me, ONLY one) piece of Christmas pudding, and I will spend at least one evening laying on my bed watching the lights twinkle in my room.

And if anyone by the name of Josh Spicer ever reads this:
For the next three weeks, I hope you blast Tchaichovsky every night without avail!

Ode to Season III

I have always loved my birthday. But it's not for the typical reasons. I actually dislike getting gifts, and I prefer a good pie to birthday cake any day. In fact, the sole reason I love my birthday is because of the autumn season in which it falls. I love autumn. Everywhere I go, I can taste the sweet spicy odor of the new season. Pumpkin pie. Crunchy leaf piles. Chunky hand-knit scarves. It is the season of quiet expectation, expectation that a new year is just around the corner and that Christmas is coming. There is something about the autumn that soothes my soul and reminds me that things must die before new life can flourish. It reminds me of my need to die to myself as God prepares to mold me and give me a renewed life.

In this spirit, I'd like to confess something I have discovered about myself. I have always been a very loyal person. When I learn to love someone, I love them deeply and wholeheartedly. And when I say "learn to love someone", I mean it takes a lot for me to open up to someone. I don't love readily, and I'm working on this. But more importantly, a wound to my friend hurts me more than a wound to myself. I don't mean this in a spirit of martyrdom; instead, I often struggle with judging other people based on their damaging words to a friend. And while there is a place for righteous anger, I pray that I will not let anyone's past actions taint my image of them. For now, I'm mourning with those who are mourning. And truly, that's all that the Lord asks of me.

"Get up, get out, get away from these liars.
They don't get your soul or your fire.
Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine
And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time."

Proud to be a Raider-hater

This has been a week of firsts. It's my first week as an RA. It's my first week as an official senior (though that barely counts because I was a senior last semester). It's my first week with a new roommate. And it's my first week with half a heart, the other piece having been left somewhere in Haiti. This week has stretched me to my limits, and yet, I feel frighteningly refreshed and joyful.

For a long time, I struggled with the concept of joy. It wasn't that I was sad or depressed. I just never felt the desire to be "Miss-Sunshine-radiates-out-of-every-pore-of-my-being"- girl. More than anything, I was annoyed by those who were constantly happy because it seemed unrealistic. I mean, seriously, who is that happy all the time? And now, I fear, I have become my own worst nightmare. I have realized that my joy comes in my security and assurance of Christ's overwhelming love for me rather than my meager feeling of happiness. The funny thing about joy is that it keeps growing and developing in spite of itself. I love it.

I'm drowning in my attempt to process my trip to Haiti. I have never felt so at home, even when I go back to Colorado and my family. It was different, in fact, from my trip last year to South Africa. While I loved Africa and can still see myself working there temporarily, leaving Haiti was like leaving my home and yearning to go back as quickly as possible. I feel as if God has opened the doors to Haiti and said, " I love this country more than I can express. I died for my children there. And I have given you the gifts to show them this." I ache for the poverty and sadness that envelops Haiti, yet I have such a strong desire to love the people there. Stay tuned for what happens with this!

In lighter news, 'tis the season for NFL! I can't wait to have a standing Sunday night date with CBS once more. Go Broncos!

"Hello world, Hope you're listening.
Forgive me if I’m young, speaking out of turn.
There’s someone I’ve been missing.
I think that they could be
The better half of me..."

Why yes, I am William Velez!

Today is one of those days where you wake up and feel as though it is a dreary, rainy evening. I love the dark skies and the soft hum of the rain that will continue, I’ve learned since living in Kentucky, for several days. I want nothing more than to cozy up on a couch somewhere with a steaming cup of Tetley and a good novel. Sadly, however, I have to sit in a cubicle and feed cancer cells, wearing a lab coat that belongs to a man named William Velez and bemoaning the fact that my fingers are too long to fit into small-sized gloves. C’est la vie.

The summer is quickly drawing to a close and my heart is slowly starting to break. I have loved staying here at UK, living at the Wesley Foundation, and meeting the people who have become my family in these past few months. I have been unequivocally welcomed into this group of people and invited to join the ministry being pursued there, and it has been wonderful.

I have been challenged this summer. I have learned that cooking for yourself takes time and effort, and I have learned that growing up in a large family has ill-prepared me for cooking for only myself. I have learned that gardening heals the soul, and that homegrown vegetables always taste better. I have learned that it’s never too late to change your mind about your plans and that it’s always better to let go of your own volition in favor of God’s fantastic plan.
Now it’s off to Haiti…I’m beyond excited!

"Tonight maybe we're gonna run, dreaming of the Osaka sun, Oh dreaming of when the morning comes..."

It's only the rest of my life...

Week six of Summer 2009: I have discovered a few things. First and foremost, I believe that, if given a choice between spending the rest of my life at a desk job and earning good money or traveling aimlessly and barely scraping by, I’d take the latter. While I love doing the actual research for my project, I’m not a “sit-around-and-do-busy-work” person. Honestly, who voluntarily signs up to write papers for a living? Secondly, as seems to be the theme of my life, I am in awe yet again at God’s provision for me. I have attempted to fundraise many times for missions trips over the years, but within 2 days of spontaneously deciding to go to Haiti I had raised over half of my money. I say this only to tell you how stunned and affirmed I feel when I let go of my own plans.

The truth will come out eventually, so you might as well hear it from the source. I, Samantha Elizabeth Hargett, will most likely not be going to medical school. Even as I type this, I’m flooded with relief over this fact. I am prepared for the onslaught of questions and utterances of “What is she thinking?!?” and I understand the confusion. I myself have gone over and over in my head the reasoning behind such a decision. I’m not afraid of failing my MCAT, or not getting in to my best school, or getting spattered in blood. What scares me most is thinking that I’ll wake up in ten years and not be fulfilling my purpose. I already see the disappointment pooling in the eyes of those I have told and hear it dripping from my mother’s voice. I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t think medical school will make me happy and (more importantly) I don’t think it is where I’m supposed to go. I want to get outside my culture. I want to live everyday with a husband and children instead of missing out on their lives. I want to risk comfort and apathy and wealth. It will involve tiring, thankless work and sick, bleeding, broken people. But none of that will really matter. I will be living the life to which I’ve been called.

“And from the ball room floor, we are in celebration,
One good stretch before our hibernation…”