Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Grammy visited me today

My little oasis.
Today was dreary. It was overcast and on-again, off-again sprinkles. As I walked out of my class and headed toward downtown to grab a bite to eat something pulled me toward the Founder's Garden. For those at UGA, you know its beauty, but, for those who don't, it's a garden tucked on the edge of campus. It's a combination of flower beds, grassy areas, benches and paths. It's beautiful. Today, with the rain, it was empty. No one wanted to walk on the muddy grass and sit on the wet benches. Yet, this is where I found myself: on a stone path under a tree. Beautiful pink and purple flowers were on my right and a stone wall was on my left. It's a part of the garden that is tucked away; no one could see me and I couldn't see them. It was like a little oasis from the world. I just stood there for a few minutes. It was so beautiful! Wet, but beautiful!

"Grammy would love this," I thought to myself. It was so her. This garden that people passed by every day, but never stopped to really appreciate. She would have been the one to stop and take in the beauty, love and growth in the Founder's Garden. It's been two months and five days since Grammy passed away. It's weird. I don't think about her every day like I did in those first few weeks. When I do think of her I shed a tear (or a few/a ton). Time heals all pain. Isn't that how the saying goes? No matter, because I wouldn't call it pain. It's more of a longing to talk to her again, to hear her sweet "bye, bye now," as she hung up the phone. I wear her lessons and kindness on my sleeve every day--at least I try to--no one could ever match her compassion though. I feel her hand on my back as I make small talk with the cashier at the store, something that I didn't used to give much thought to; I feel her smile when I give a genuine smile to a stranger; I feel her heart surge when I donate to the collection at church, something I never felt obligated to do since "I'm just a poor college kid;" I felt her presence in that little garden today.

Gram would have noticed.
I saw her grinning and just breathing in the fresh scent of wet grass. She took in the garden with all of her senses, not just with her eyes. It was wonderful. She exuded pure joy. I didn't want to leave, but I needed to start studying. As I gathered myself to leave my little oasis, I looked down. Amongst all of the wet, droopy pink and purple flowers was a brilliant yellow flower standing tall. I bent down to look at it. I couldn't help it; it was that vibrant. As I looked closer, I noticed the water droplets on its petals. Even with the additional weight of the water, it was standing tall. I feel like it is something that Gram would have noticed. She would have said what a beautiful day it was. The rain brought new life to the garden. It washed away the bad stuff and gave strength and growth to all of the creatures and flowers. She loved sitting in her garden. She would have loved today. Actually, she did love today. She was right there with me. Goodness, I missed her. The good news is that God doesn't charge long distance. I can call on her anytime I want and she always answers. Today was no exception. <3

Monday, February 24, 2014

I got 22 blessings & you're probably one

It might be a week after my 22nd birthday, but this blog has been on my mind for awhile now. Have you ever noticed how every year around your birthday you start to reflect on your life? Have you accomplished any goals in the past year? How has life changed? Are you happy with the person you are? Do you have relationships that you'd fight for, that are meaningful? For some reason, birthdays seem to draw all of these life questions to the surface. Perhaps it's the connotation that that we're one year less young. Not one year older, but we are less young. Our soul is growing. We are learning. We are building relationships and lives. We are less young.

I felt at ease moving from 21 to 22. I joked with my friends that I was officially "old" and that I was 21 going on 45--I do watch World News every night. Yet, there was less pressure with this birthday. Having not drank before I turned 21--shocking, I know--I felt a certain obligation to "go crazy" on my 21st, which I didn't and still never have. It isn't me. The social stigma is that 21 year olds are just crazy college kids with no ambitions or determination. So, in a way, I was more excited then ever to turn the big 2-2 and break free of that stereotype that I never fit with my life and values.

I celebrated my birthday on Saturday (my birthday was on Monday) with a dinner with my parents and a party at my apartment with my friends. It was relaxed and fun. There was no stress and no fuss over me. It was just a gathering of friends celebrating how life has brought us all together. It was what I would call a perfect birthday... except for the fact that it wasn't actually my birthday. No, that was Monday. The day where I ran out of ink in the middle of printing a homework assignment; the day where I had back-to-back meetings; the day where I studied all night for an exam on Tuesday. In the words of my mother, "Welcome to adulthood." It didn't feel like my birthday. As a person who LOVES birthdays (others, more than my own), it was a bit of a disappointment. Shouldn't the day feel different? More special?

I was getting notifications of people writing on my Facebook wall all day on Monday, but it wasn't until I read through the posts on Tuesday that I realized how special I should have felt on my birthday. Friends from high school, old teammates, sorority sisters, cousins, uncles and aunts and even a high school teacher wished me happy birthday. The messages came in so many forms, from my Facebook, texts, phone calls and cards in the mail. I was quite honestly astounded at the love pouring in from so many different areas of my life. As I let the messages sink in, I couldn't help but feel this overwhelming sense of joy. I am so blessed. I am blessed to have such wonderful friends and family. I am blessed by the sun upon my face. I am blessed to have amazing opportunities. I am blessed by my faith. I am blessed. With another year under my belt, I am less young. However, I have better awareness of and gratitude for the things that matter most in life and, for that, I am extremely grateful.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

New Perspectives

I hit the snooze once. Twice. My eyes heavy, I open them long enough to reset my alarm to 10am. I'd go to church later. The light was pouring into my room even though my window is covered with black-out curtains. Why was it so bright? I rolled over and pulled the covers over my head. Even 30 more minutes of sleep will help me get through the day. I deserve the extra sleep, but there's the sunlight again. I heard it quietly at first, but it grew more nagging: the voice in my head reading my long to-do list for the day. "Ok," I relented. "I'll get up." I rush to throw myself together. Bag packed with school work, coupons for grocery shopping crinkled in my purse, and make-up in hand--I'll have to just do it in the car--and I was out the door. I pulled into the church parking lot, put on my mascara and hopped out of the car only to be greeted by one of dear friends, Anna, walking up to church as well. We go in together and I follow her to her normal seat.

Sitting on the other side of the chapel, I look around. I knew that it looked like this, but yet it's different. It's simple, rustic, warm. I grab a missile as the lector walks to the alter. She begins reading. My heart instantly urns for The Lord and my ears tune to the Word. I hear,

"Is it not to divide your bread with the hungry
to bring the homeless and poor into your house;
When you see the naked, to cover him;
and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?

Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will spring up quickly.
Your righteousness shall go before you;
the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.

Then you will call, and the Lord will answer;
You will cry, and He will say, 'Here I am.'
If you remove the yoke from your midst,
the pointing of the finger and speaking wickedness,
And if you pour yourself out for the hungry
and satisfy the afflicted,
Then your light will rise in the darkness
And your gloom will become like noonday."
(Isaish 58:7-10)

Deep breath. I reread the passage once. Twice. Three times. His Words jump into my soul and shine like the sun pouring into my bedroom this morning: bright and warm, hopeful and abundant. Father stands to read the gospel; my ears tune in again. 

"YOU are the SALT of the earth. 
If salt looses its taste, how shall it be seasoned?"

"You are the light of the world...
Let your light shine before others,
so that they may see your good works
and give glory to your Father in heaven."
(Matthew 5:13-16)

Another deep breath as the warmth washes over me again. Father says a few words, but relinquishes the microphone to two visitors from the Franciscan Volunteer Ministry. The volunteers begin explaining about the program. For one year, volunteers live among the poor and minister to them. They are assigned to a ministry, a soup kitchen, a parish and pour themselves into the people in the community through stewardship and prayer. Listening to these two early twenty-somethings, I was moved, yet again. The humble service to the poor and the identification of the poor not as a group, but as individuals. I was in awe. One year. That isn't so long, and what an amazing way for your light to shine forth and give glory to The Lord. I turn to Anna and whisper, "Wow, I wish I had the strength to do that." She looks at me and says, "You could totally do that!" I believe her; I really could. Then a powerful, scary, awe-inspiring thought: did God just open my heart and ears through the scripture to receive His message of service?

I've been thinking about the business world for months, if not years. To be a businesswoman in downtown Atlanta, that was my next step, my dream, wasn't it? Isn't it? Father made the first reading and the gospel tie together so well, yet I now see them as preaching two different worlds. Isaish is telling me to out and to be with the poor. Matthew is telling me to use my talents to minister to those too busy and consumed by "stuff"to realize The Lord's presence. Another deep breath. Just when I thought I had my life figured out, The Lord knocks, laughing that I had made plans without Him. He never ceases to amaze me and call me to question my actions and thoughts. It's big ideas like this that make me miss my grandmother so much. She would know what to say and how to go about uncovering the meaning behind these competing thoughts. That's a topic for another time, though. Prayer. That is what she would say. Prayer is the next step--and all this homework that I have to do. 

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Take me back

Today was filled with AJGA memories. My summer internship, now six months ago, taught me so much. The experience opened my eyes to different ways of life, accepting others for who they are and constantly striving to better myself and my work. I guess you could call those some of life's biggest lessons. It still amazes me that I was afforded such an amazing experience. I worked the longest, hottest, and most challenging days of my life, but each day with my team at the golf course was a blessing.

It's funny looking back. The laughs and radio babble are so fresh in my mind. I can still ride through each course we visited in my head. Everything, everyone is so close, yet when I open my eyes to reality life has gone on. Each member of my team has gone back to their respective states and picked their individual life up again. I like to believe that they they have been effected as much as I have from the experience. I've spoken to some of my teammates about it, and they feel the same way I do: the summer with AJGA was one of the best experiences we have had thus far in our lives. Who would have thought to throw eight people from all different backgrounds, various states and wide-ranging personalities together for two and a half months? 

The AJGA impressed me during my interview process with their deduction to their employees and constant stress on professionalism, leadership and character. I received a hand written letter from a full time staff member just the other day thanking me again for my dedication to the internship. In the envelope was a picture of my team from training before we left for the summer. It was a simple gesture, but it displayed the AJGA's class and rich culture that I am still so enthralled with.

I am typing out this blog on my phone just like I had to do so many times this summer due to my host family's lack of wireless internet. Even this simple thing takes me back to the hot Texas sun and wonderful Louisiana hospitality. No one but my teammates can truly grasp the bond that I feel with them. We somehow all fit together perfectly: one persons strengths picked up where another's weaknesses began to show. I think about and pray for them constantly. They are a part of my life; They are my family no matter how much time passes.