I've realized I must dream. And dream big. Too often people set their sites on things attainable... things that are too easily attainable. When that happens success then becomes stagnant, too easy, almost lazy. I'm not saying that achieving a promotion in your job, or being a strong "provider" for your family is not a good thing. I'm just worried people too often miss their calling. Now don't read into this too much. I'm writing this to all people, not just those believing in a specific "calling" from above. I'm talking about what makes you tick. The thing you dreamed of when you were little, and still secretly dream of now. Who says you have to work a 9-5? Who says work has to be WORK? I believe that doing what you love can be a reality. The day to day can be literally a "dream come true".
Over the past couple months I've been realizing that not everyone was as blessed as I was to be raised in a family that fostered dreams. I have parents that never scoffed at my ideas, or told me I had to fit some type of mold. They taught me life lessons and instilled a strong work ethic, but what I did for a "career" was up to me. Through my interactions with friends and colleagues I have realized not everyone has had that experience and it breaks my heart. Everyone deserves to dream, and has the right to work towards making them reality. Whether someone has told you this or not, listen to me now: YOU are unique. You have wants and desires and TALENTS that noone else has. You don't have to fit some specific type of person to be a success. Whether its a hobby or career, you deserve to accomplish those dreams of yours. Think about them, soul search a bit. What do you dream about?
Over the next couple weeks each blogpost is going to feature one of my "dreams" (or visions). I am creating a vision board (kind of like an artsy "to-do" list) of all that I want to do - whether its a career, a vacation, or just a simple experience, I'm going to put it on my board... and frame it, and hang it in my room. Then I'll choose one to write about each time I blog. Maybe someone will read one of them and be inspired to think about their dreams... At the very least I will make my dreams more "plan-like" by writing them out and publishing them. Don't keep them in your head. Tell someone. Write them down. Regardless of how silly it seems, its YOUR dream. Make it happen! My dreams are worth attaining, and yours are too.
So tell me - What do you dream about?
"You cannot dream yourself into a character: you must hammer and forge yourself into one."
-Henry David Thoreau-
Above all else, guard your heart...
Above all else, guard your heart- for it is the wellspring of life. (Proverbs 4.23)
Friday, February 26, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Altars: Reminders of Times Past
Tonight I finally got plugged in at my church and started attending a community group. We have a "midsized group", about 50 or so people, that mingle and get to know each other before breaking off into smaller, more intimate groups. Nothing too earth-shattering occurred, but, on the way home a few God moments took place.
Liz (my roommate) and I spent the entire day together- church, lunch, shopping, walk, community group. Our relationship is great, but we definitely have missed out on pushing each other spiritually and keeping each other accountable. At lunch we had a tear moment discussing how blessed we were with family (and how much we missed them!) and how we need constant reminders that God really is too good to us. Tonight, on the way home from group, we talked about how we fear we're "missing it". It's not that our faith has disappeared but more that its empty. We both feel that we are wasting our gifts (more on that later... I promise I will dedicate a post on my fervent belief in my spiritual gifts and my renewed need to use them). We talked about the past, those times in our lives that we truly felt most alive, using our gifts for God, letting Him use us.
Lately the importance of altars has been coming up in my life. Donald Miller writes about how altars aren't as much for God (doubtful a pile of rocks does much for Him) as they are for us. Reminders of where we were when God saved us, protected us, brought us through. I encourage you to make altars in your life. A letter, a blogpost, journaling, a picture. Whatever it may be, make permanent what God has done in your life. We are too flaky to remember everything.
Below is a letter I wrote before last Christmas (my senior year of college) to my college chaplain. This is one of my altars. To give a bit of a preview, my fall semester of senior year was a dark one. I found myself in a dark and depressed state, many days crying "God I don't feel you, but I won't doubt you. One day I'll find joy again." At one point, two of my friends actually had an intervention with me at Quizno's. I was in a dark place, but, like He always does- God came through. He is so faithful.
When you read this letter, think of me, my bold voice/attitude and sarcasm in the letter. It reads pretty well when you throw a sarcastic tone in there :)
Dear Corey,
I am writing you to inform you of the severe repercussions of your very first message in chapel this fall. You spoke of Ruth, her mother-in-law Naomi, and their faith in God. You challenged us with dayenu… You asked if our God was enough. Several times I was almost compelled to shout out loud “YES! God you are enough!” but I sat there silent, overjoyed at how my senior year was beginning. God was present that day, nudging so many of us to just grab hold of Him. I sat there during your prayer, saying over and over “God, you are enough for me. Dayenu. You’re enough.” I began to list out situations, bad circumstances that could possibly arise: if we don’t win in volleyball, dayenu; if I struggle with my grades, dayenu. I was so amped, so thrilled that my last fall semester was going to be unbelievable. I had no idea how unbelievable it would be…
Thanks to you (and that clever word that I am most likely spelling wrong), I dove in head first- to my devotions, my relationships, my studies. “You are enough God, dayenu!” And then it began. This was my senior season for volleyball, and it was one we all had looked forward to and worked so hard for. In preseason we looked unstoppable, all of us knowing our hard work would soon pay off. Things didn’t go according to plan. At the home opener, our MVP tears her ACL… “Am I still enough?” It was almost immediate that I heard it. “Of course you are, God. We can get through this.” Then the team fell apart. We lost more games this year than any other, not making playoffs for the first time I think in school history. As captain many times I was at a loss for words. God, what am I supposed to say? How do I lead them? Then I couldn’t even do that. Shoulder injury. Being as pumped about God being enough for me as I was, I recited that cute little word you taught us over and over again. “Dayenu. Dayenu.” It took three weeks for my doctor to clear me. “God, I don’t like this, but you’re enough. You’re enough.”
During all this something else was going on outside of volleyball. I hadn’t been feeling well all summer, and finally things came to a point that forced me to the doctor’s midseason. I left my doctor’s office with a harsh diagnosis and a prescription to “make me feel better in time.” This blow was a little harder, leaving a sting. This time I cried. “WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” When the tears were gone, the phrase was not. I found myself saying it in prayers, writing it in my journal, and even in letters to friends- “…But I’ll get through. God is enough for me.” Where is this COMING from?! I think it absolutely absurd for me to remember the first chapel of the year so vividly on almost a daily basis. Who would have thought the pain and suffering that would come from actually listening to our college chaplain?!
I wish that were it. I wish this was the part of the letter that I tell you regardless of what I went through (whether you can sense the humor I am attempting to throw into this letter or not) I do appreciate those words you spoke, and how you imbedded them into our brains… but it is not, because my recitations of “dayenu” are far from over. Where were we? Oh, right…
It’s my senior volleyball season and I just got cleared to play again. I traveled with the team one game but couldn’t play until the weekend at our overnight tournament in Connecticut. This was the one tournament we looked forward to all year. Then it happened. He wanted to know just how serious I was about that Him “being enough” thing. Oy. My roommate told me a girl who was over the night before called and said she just found out that she had lice. We went to the nurse to take precautions but, c’mon, she was in our room for 20, maybe 30 minutes… “This is what a nit looks like.” The nurse shows my roommate a strand of my hair exactly one hour before my team was to be leaving. I called my coach, crying. I couldn’t travel. Definitely not on an overnight. I wasn’t shouting “dayenu!” at this point, but I could hear it, in my heart. “Am I enough for you now?” “Give me a sec…” This, of course, was before the epidemic was recognized all over campus. Funny, God probably asked a lot of people that week the same question. “Are you sure I’m enough for you?”
So there I was, in my dorm room, crying over lice, a shoulder that was better but I couldn’t use (because I had lice), the fact that my team was going to bond without me, and that I couldn’t get that darn word I didn’t even know how to spell out of my head! “Dayenu, dayenu, dayenu...” Enough already! But, like before, it doesn’t end there.
Let’s fast-forward about a month to last week. Thanksgiving break had just ended and all I had to do was get through one week of classes and three finals. I got back to school Monday morning and while I was unpacking noticed weird spots on my neck. I didn’t think much of it, but day by day it spread a little more, and a little more, until it covered my entire upper body. With every day it getting worse I decided to get it checked out. Once again, I was at my doctor’s. Pityriasis rosea. Yeah, I don’t know how to say it either. It’s a rare viral infection that manifests itself through a rash and lesions on the body. Supposedly it’s harmless… personally I think it looks (and sounds) dangerous. And if you know anything about viral infections, you would know that antibiotics do not work therefore there is no treatment. How long does it last? 6-10 weeks. “It’ll run its course then leave the body.” My doctor is so knowledgeable. Run its course… 6-10 weeks… But she says there is no known cause.
I know exactly what causes it. Dayenu. A little word that packs a punch. I can’t even spell it, but it’s been doing quite a number on me. It has taken my health for the time being, upset my great plans of winning a championship, and has limited my wardrobe to turtlenecks and sweatshirts.
So I just wanted to say thank-you, Corey. Ha. I bet you’ve never received a thank-you letter like this! But I’m serious. When I came in this year I was ready for God to move, come in like wildfire and set this campus ablaze for Him. Hearing a sermon full of “you can do its!” would have left me defenseless and with nowhere to turn. So thank you for being obedient and speaking what I know the Lord put on your heart… even if it was just for me. But for future reference, you should really put a disclaimer on these catch phrases of yours.
In the God who really is all that we need,
Christina
When I sent this to my chaplain, I had no idea the reaction it would create. He supposedly (according to his wife) had it posted on his refrigerator at home. Knowing a student took something to heart that impacted their life so strongly really meant a lot to him. He needed it, and so did I.
I don't know about you, but I've needed to revisit my altars lately.
Are there any altars in your life that need revisiting?
Liz (my roommate) and I spent the entire day together- church, lunch, shopping, walk, community group. Our relationship is great, but we definitely have missed out on pushing each other spiritually and keeping each other accountable. At lunch we had a tear moment discussing how blessed we were with family (and how much we missed them!) and how we need constant reminders that God really is too good to us. Tonight, on the way home from group, we talked about how we fear we're "missing it". It's not that our faith has disappeared but more that its empty. We both feel that we are wasting our gifts (more on that later... I promise I will dedicate a post on my fervent belief in my spiritual gifts and my renewed need to use them). We talked about the past, those times in our lives that we truly felt most alive, using our gifts for God, letting Him use us.
Lately the importance of altars has been coming up in my life. Donald Miller writes about how altars aren't as much for God (doubtful a pile of rocks does much for Him) as they are for us. Reminders of where we were when God saved us, protected us, brought us through. I encourage you to make altars in your life. A letter, a blogpost, journaling, a picture. Whatever it may be, make permanent what God has done in your life. We are too flaky to remember everything.
Below is a letter I wrote before last Christmas (my senior year of college) to my college chaplain. This is one of my altars. To give a bit of a preview, my fall semester of senior year was a dark one. I found myself in a dark and depressed state, many days crying "God I don't feel you, but I won't doubt you. One day I'll find joy again." At one point, two of my friends actually had an intervention with me at Quizno's. I was in a dark place, but, like He always does- God came through. He is so faithful.
When you read this letter, think of me, my bold voice/attitude and sarcasm in the letter. It reads pretty well when you throw a sarcastic tone in there :)
Dear Corey,
I am writing you to inform you of the severe repercussions of your very first message in chapel this fall. You spoke of Ruth, her mother-in-law Naomi, and their faith in God. You challenged us with dayenu… You asked if our God was enough. Several times I was almost compelled to shout out loud “YES! God you are enough!” but I sat there silent, overjoyed at how my senior year was beginning. God was present that day, nudging so many of us to just grab hold of Him. I sat there during your prayer, saying over and over “God, you are enough for me. Dayenu. You’re enough.” I began to list out situations, bad circumstances that could possibly arise: if we don’t win in volleyball, dayenu; if I struggle with my grades, dayenu. I was so amped, so thrilled that my last fall semester was going to be unbelievable. I had no idea how unbelievable it would be…
Thanks to you (and that clever word that I am most likely spelling wrong), I dove in head first- to my devotions, my relationships, my studies. “You are enough God, dayenu!” And then it began. This was my senior season for volleyball, and it was one we all had looked forward to and worked so hard for. In preseason we looked unstoppable, all of us knowing our hard work would soon pay off. Things didn’t go according to plan. At the home opener, our MVP tears her ACL… “Am I still enough?” It was almost immediate that I heard it. “Of course you are, God. We can get through this.” Then the team fell apart. We lost more games this year than any other, not making playoffs for the first time I think in school history. As captain many times I was at a loss for words. God, what am I supposed to say? How do I lead them? Then I couldn’t even do that. Shoulder injury. Being as pumped about God being enough for me as I was, I recited that cute little word you taught us over and over again. “Dayenu. Dayenu.” It took three weeks for my doctor to clear me. “God, I don’t like this, but you’re enough. You’re enough.”
During all this something else was going on outside of volleyball. I hadn’t been feeling well all summer, and finally things came to a point that forced me to the doctor’s midseason. I left my doctor’s office with a harsh diagnosis and a prescription to “make me feel better in time.” This blow was a little harder, leaving a sting. This time I cried. “WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” When the tears were gone, the phrase was not. I found myself saying it in prayers, writing it in my journal, and even in letters to friends- “…But I’ll get through. God is enough for me.” Where is this COMING from?! I think it absolutely absurd for me to remember the first chapel of the year so vividly on almost a daily basis. Who would have thought the pain and suffering that would come from actually listening to our college chaplain?!
I wish that were it. I wish this was the part of the letter that I tell you regardless of what I went through (whether you can sense the humor I am attempting to throw into this letter or not) I do appreciate those words you spoke, and how you imbedded them into our brains… but it is not, because my recitations of “dayenu” are far from over. Where were we? Oh, right…
It’s my senior volleyball season and I just got cleared to play again. I traveled with the team one game but couldn’t play until the weekend at our overnight tournament in Connecticut. This was the one tournament we looked forward to all year. Then it happened. He wanted to know just how serious I was about that Him “being enough” thing. Oy. My roommate told me a girl who was over the night before called and said she just found out that she had lice. We went to the nurse to take precautions but, c’mon, she was in our room for 20, maybe 30 minutes… “This is what a nit looks like.” The nurse shows my roommate a strand of my hair exactly one hour before my team was to be leaving. I called my coach, crying. I couldn’t travel. Definitely not on an overnight. I wasn’t shouting “dayenu!” at this point, but I could hear it, in my heart. “Am I enough for you now?” “Give me a sec…” This, of course, was before the epidemic was recognized all over campus. Funny, God probably asked a lot of people that week the same question. “Are you sure I’m enough for you?”
So there I was, in my dorm room, crying over lice, a shoulder that was better but I couldn’t use (because I had lice), the fact that my team was going to bond without me, and that I couldn’t get that darn word I didn’t even know how to spell out of my head! “Dayenu, dayenu, dayenu...” Enough already! But, like before, it doesn’t end there.
Let’s fast-forward about a month to last week. Thanksgiving break had just ended and all I had to do was get through one week of classes and three finals. I got back to school Monday morning and while I was unpacking noticed weird spots on my neck. I didn’t think much of it, but day by day it spread a little more, and a little more, until it covered my entire upper body. With every day it getting worse I decided to get it checked out. Once again, I was at my doctor’s. Pityriasis rosea. Yeah, I don’t know how to say it either. It’s a rare viral infection that manifests itself through a rash and lesions on the body. Supposedly it’s harmless… personally I think it looks (and sounds) dangerous. And if you know anything about viral infections, you would know that antibiotics do not work therefore there is no treatment. How long does it last? 6-10 weeks. “It’ll run its course then leave the body.” My doctor is so knowledgeable. Run its course… 6-10 weeks… But she says there is no known cause.
I know exactly what causes it. Dayenu. A little word that packs a punch. I can’t even spell it, but it’s been doing quite a number on me. It has taken my health for the time being, upset my great plans of winning a championship, and has limited my wardrobe to turtlenecks and sweatshirts.
So I just wanted to say thank-you, Corey. Ha. I bet you’ve never received a thank-you letter like this! But I’m serious. When I came in this year I was ready for God to move, come in like wildfire and set this campus ablaze for Him. Hearing a sermon full of “you can do its!” would have left me defenseless and with nowhere to turn. So thank you for being obedient and speaking what I know the Lord put on your heart… even if it was just for me. But for future reference, you should really put a disclaimer on these catch phrases of yours.
In the God who really is all that we need,
Christina
When I sent this to my chaplain, I had no idea the reaction it would create. He supposedly (according to his wife) had it posted on his refrigerator at home. Knowing a student took something to heart that impacted their life so strongly really meant a lot to him. He needed it, and so did I.
I don't know about you, but I've needed to revisit my altars lately.
Are there any altars in your life that need revisiting?
Friday, February 12, 2010
Boring, Broken Hotel...
Well, tonight I don't have anything extremely witty (or earth shattering) to write about. No, tonight I'm merely bored out of my mind at my hotel so I figured I would write a little update on where I'm at.
Currently, I'm sitting at a computer in a business center at a Hampton Inn in Alabama. I'm coaching in a big volleyball tournament that starts tomorrow and had plans of relieving all my stress tonight but sadly, the gym is a joke (broken treadmill, broken elliptical, a bike that could possibly work...). Ultimate fitness for tonight is a bust. So now, after my Guiltless Black Bean Burger (absolute FAVORITE) from Chili's, and a riveting episode of House I'm out of things to do. I decided to not bring my laptop with me (really need a break from work) so I could relax and just focus on volleyball. A lot of good that did me. On my defeated stroll back from the not-so-fit fitness center, I spotted a 24 hour business center. Uh oh. There goes my break from technology and work. Luckily, I had no messages or emails to sort through so straight to Facebook I went. Again, my productivity is riveting. I can't stand my attraction to that stupid website.
In other news, the further south I drove, the colder it got. Once I reached Birmingham, I found snow. SNOW. What the? Boston's blizzard fizzled out, Dallas got 10 inches of snow, and I drive south for the weekend and hit a snow storm. Honestly!? It was, however, a beautiful thing to drive through "rush hour" without a single car on the road. Oh Alabama. Oh southerners. Oh global warming. (PS, in my humble opinion, I feel they should call it something else... especially when snow is popping up everywhere).
The snow did, however, make for one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. My absolute favorite "picture" of nature is the way everything looks after a snow fall. Everything is shining, reflecting the sun, and plain magnificent. It's a sight I grew up with and every time I see a picture of a snowy winter I'm reminded of home. On my drive today, as the sun was setting, I beheld what I can honestly say was the best yet. A southern sunset with a New England background. I think only those who have experienced both can imagine what it looks like put together. It was absolutely breathtaking.
---
Speaking of breathtaking, I'm going to head back to the unfit center to see if that bike works...
Currently, I'm sitting at a computer in a business center at a Hampton Inn in Alabama. I'm coaching in a big volleyball tournament that starts tomorrow and had plans of relieving all my stress tonight but sadly, the gym is a joke (broken treadmill, broken elliptical, a bike that could possibly work...). Ultimate fitness for tonight is a bust. So now, after my Guiltless Black Bean Burger (absolute FAVORITE) from Chili's, and a riveting episode of House I'm out of things to do. I decided to not bring my laptop with me (really need a break from work) so I could relax and just focus on volleyball. A lot of good that did me. On my defeated stroll back from the not-so-fit fitness center, I spotted a 24 hour business center. Uh oh. There goes my break from technology and work. Luckily, I had no messages or emails to sort through so straight to Facebook I went. Again, my productivity is riveting. I can't stand my attraction to that stupid website.
In other news, the further south I drove, the colder it got. Once I reached Birmingham, I found snow. SNOW. What the? Boston's blizzard fizzled out, Dallas got 10 inches of snow, and I drive south for the weekend and hit a snow storm. Honestly!? It was, however, a beautiful thing to drive through "rush hour" without a single car on the road. Oh Alabama. Oh southerners. Oh global warming. (PS, in my humble opinion, I feel they should call it something else... especially when snow is popping up everywhere).
The snow did, however, make for one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. My absolute favorite "picture" of nature is the way everything looks after a snow fall. Everything is shining, reflecting the sun, and plain magnificent. It's a sight I grew up with and every time I see a picture of a snowy winter I'm reminded of home. On my drive today, as the sun was setting, I beheld what I can honestly say was the best yet. A southern sunset with a New England background. I think only those who have experienced both can imagine what it looks like put together. It was absolutely breathtaking.
---
Speaking of breathtaking, I'm going to head back to the unfit center to see if that bike works...
Monday, February 8, 2010
The Onside Kick
Very few things in sports are as risky as the onside kick. About 13% of expected onside kicks are recovered by the kicking team. THIRTEEN percent. Now that's a risk. But last night, during the biggest game the Saints have ever played in, that risk was taken.
No one saw it coming. Not the fans, not the commentators, and definitely not the Colts. The start to the second half looked typical, with no signs of impending trickery. All of a sudden, fans and commentators alike were out of their seats reacting to one of the gutsiest calls made in Superbowl history: a surprise onside kick to start the half.
Coach Payton knew what he was doing. He was taking a risk. 87% of the time this type of call backfires and gives the other team perfect field position... 13% of time gives you the ball. High risk means high reward. And against a team like the Colts, the risk had to be taken.
Now, unless you've been under a rock for the past 16 hours, you would know that the risk paid off. Not only did the Saints recover the ball off the kick, but they also went on to win the Superbowl.
A risk. A reward. A championship.
No one saw it coming. Not the fans, not the commentators, and definitely not the Colts. The start to the second half looked typical, with no signs of impending trickery. All of a sudden, fans and commentators alike were out of their seats reacting to one of the gutsiest calls made in Superbowl history: a surprise onside kick to start the half.
Coach Payton knew what he was doing. He was taking a risk. 87% of the time this type of call backfires and gives the other team perfect field position... 13% of time gives you the ball. High risk means high reward. And against a team like the Colts, the risk had to be taken.
Now, unless you've been under a rock for the past 16 hours, you would know that the risk paid off. Not only did the Saints recover the ball off the kick, but they also went on to win the Superbowl.
A risk. A reward. A championship.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Snow?
Now I know I'm not a good judge of southern winters, but supposedly the storm that we had here in Nashville this past weekend was the "blizzard of the decade." Again, I'm not a good judge on southern winters but are you kidding me? At first I thought it was a joke, we got 3... maybe 4 inches of snow and the city shut down. Now I get that Metro doesn't have the sand, salt, or trucks to handle any type of storm, but one would think that 4 days after the last snowflake fell from the sky the roads would be plowed. And yet, they still aren't. Since Friday there have been over 500 accidents. The schools have been closed Friday, Monday and tomorrow (Tuesday). The temperatures have been in the upper 40s every day. The weather is perfect. Kids are having the best snow days any child could ask for (yet they have not mastered the art of making and throwing a snowball...).
I wonder what it would be like back home in New Hampshire if we didn't have the capabilities to take care of even the most minute of storms... 3 inches? 3 days of schools and businesses closed? Christmas vacation would have lasted straight through to Groundhog's day.
The past few days I literally didn't leave my house. Before the storm hit my roommate (also from New England) and I poked fun at all the southern "crazies" running out to stores to buy milk, bread, and eggs. I jokingly said they all craved french toast in the snow. But then, the storm hit and we couldn't get out. We've been stuck here for 4 days.
All of a sudden 3 inches of snow paralyzed a true blooded Yankee. Get me out of here.
I wonder what it would be like back home in New Hampshire if we didn't have the capabilities to take care of even the most minute of storms... 3 inches? 3 days of schools and businesses closed? Christmas vacation would have lasted straight through to Groundhog's day.
The past few days I literally didn't leave my house. Before the storm hit my roommate (also from New England) and I poked fun at all the southern "crazies" running out to stores to buy milk, bread, and eggs. I jokingly said they all craved french toast in the snow. But then, the storm hit and we couldn't get out. We've been stuck here for 4 days.
All of a sudden 3 inches of snow paralyzed a true blooded Yankee. Get me out of here.
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