Sunday, September 7, 2014

the reality of a road trip.


A few weeks ago, I drove from Charlotte, NC to Denver, CO with one of the best people I know, Jennie. When I originally imagined myself on a road trip across America, the montage in my head was pretty glamorous. But like most things in life, expectations and reality don't usually match up. Don't get me wrong, we had a great time. But it's 24 hrs+ in the car... you're not going to like everything that happens while you're trapped in there.


EXPECTATION: 
-Cute outfits, so I would obviously look GREAT in all of the pictures we took as we crossed the country. Every day it would just be a battle about whether to Instagram a great picture of myself look trendy and fresh OR a super cool artsy wall/mural/skyline.
-Each day would feel short and exciting, it's only 8 hours a day, right?!
-Eating in some of America's best restaurants, taking beautiful Instagram pictures that no one would like but myself, Jennie, and my mom. 
-Lots and lots of singing and laughing in the car. 
-Spontaneously pulling off the beaten path to discover some new natural wonder. 



REALITY:
-Dirty clothes. Definitely no freshness in feeling or in looks. One half of the road trip team wore the same t-shirt every day (not going to say any names, but there is photographic evidence). 
-8 hours is enough to drive you CRAZY. You will decide that you hate certain states (Missouri) just because you feel like being a grouch. And your whole body is sore. The fear of blood clots is real, people. 
-We made peanut butter & banana sandwiches on the trunk of my car everyday- which we actually kind of loved.  
-Yes to the laughing and the singing (mostly Sam Smith). But also Yes to crying as you listen to audiobooks that you won't finish. 
-There is no such thing as spontaneity on I-70 in Kansas. The end.
PB&B, how I love thee
Brewster, KS- Just imagine a tumbleweed rolling across her feet.
SOME GREAT THINGS THAT DID HAPPEN:
BurgerUp- Take me back, please.


Songwriter Night at Bluebird Cafe...

...followed by standing on a bridge to watch a One Direction concert for free. High or Low? Still can't decide. 

Kansas City, MO is beautiful!



Even now, looking back at that crazy week in the car and in random cities across the US, we made some pretty good memories. Especially in Tennessee, because the momentum was full force. We were exhausted when we arrived in St. Louis, so by the time we got to Denver everything felt a little bit strange. I think we are only starting to get over the feeling that we should be loading my Honda back up and heading back towards the East Coast. I think as time goes on, Jennie and I will appreciate even more the ridiculous things that happened in those 5 days. 

Jennie practicing her method art in Kansas City. 

The West is beautiful. The Rocky Mountains seem to randomly jump out at you at the right time when you start to get frustrated on the interstate or you will catch a glorious peek of them through the skyscrapers downtown. I haven't had time to fully explore all CO has to offer yet, but I am looking forward to that surreal feeling of peace you get when you're surrounded by the mountains and nothing else. We went to Red Rocks and I remembered how much bigger the world is than the one I've tried to create for myself. I'm still getting used to being 1,252 miles from an ocean, but that is a whole other issue.

Red Rocks Park, Golden, CO


Right now, the plan is to be here until Christmas while I intern at Denver Rescue Mission. I love my internship with Champa House and the wonderful, beautiful women and children that I get to be with everyday. My summer in Chicago last year was a great introduction into Urban Ministry and after that glorious summer, I wanted to see what it would look like to be involved in this kind of ministry long term. I am so grateful for this time to learn and grow and better understand the passions/gifts/dreams that the Lord has instilled in me so that I can fully serve others. It's been an interesting journey to see how you have almost a new lens once you graduate. Like you can see how part of your dreams were being lived out in the past four years and now the struggle is bringing them to a graduated world. I don't how to use those dreams- the ones that involve community, discipleship, and creativity- will look like come December but all that matters is that I am faithful to where he has me now.

God is accomplishing a thousand tiny purposes at any given moment around us. There is only so much we can know, but we can leave the stuff we can't know to God and believe he has it all worked out. It may feel quiet, and we possibly even feel forgotten, but God is moving to work out his plans all around us.
-Jennie Allen, Restless 

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

clay covered hands

There are so many days between each post. Days that go unwritten because you feel like there is no story to tell. But there is.

Everyday is a new day were you have struggled and triumphed. Today you prayed a new prayer because you recognized your own desperate inability. Today you appreciated a far breeze in the midst of a Carolina summer. Today you have laughed, cried, and relished in a new song. You are closer today than you were yesterday to understanding the beauty and the chips in the piece you are becoming. 

Ephesians 2:10
For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.





I love the image of Christ as a potter. I see Him there at the wheel, rough carpenter hands trying to smooth the clay into a masterpiece. I see Him leaning in closer to get the details right. He knows what he wants each unique piece to look like. I love that he is a potter, an artist, a visionary. He's not even a sculptor, cutting out hard granite with a carving knife. He uses his own hands. Its messy.

And he thinks I'm worth the mess.

It's incredible. I don't deserve it. All I can do is breathe in grace and breathe out gratitude. All I can try to do is grasp the freedom that comes from a perfect Artist declaring that- in the glory, in the mundane, and when life is shattered in pieces- we are His best piece of work.


Friday, May 23, 2014

leaving // finding home

four years ago, i left huntersville for boone, nc.

i remember thinking, "why would i leave home? this place is nice and won't my family be sad with me gone? why am i doing this to myself?!" i knew i was only moving a couple hours away, but it seemed like such a bad idea. and unc charlotte, the university in commuting distance, was starting to seem like a really good idea. i had been dreaming so long of a new adventure, but i was antsy when the time came to take that big step in the direction of the unfamiliar.

despite my anxiety, i drove up the mountain and began to create my new space. i put pictures up on the wall of my friends and family in an effort to make my cinder block dorm room feel like it was where i was supposed to be. i unpacked my new ikea purchases as my new roommate, almost a stranger, and i stayed quiet while our parents made boisterous small talk.

one month after arrival, i drove back to huntersville, with my new roommate/best friend in tow, to escape dorm life. i returned regularly to drive home, counting out the weekends between visits- almost testing myself to see how long i could go.

but somewhere over the past few years, i stopped having to test myself and i stopped counting weekends. i also stopped calling huntersville home. it was technically my hometown, where i grew up, where my family lived, but i stopped identifying myself as a huntersville resident. in so many more ways, boone was where i was growing and where a new type of family was forming.




at some point, home became a third floor square apartment, with a shower that never drained, a ridiculous amount of smoke alarms that went off when you boiled water, and walls that shook when the wind blew in the winter.



it was where i was being nourished, loved, accepted. where we laughed, argued, worked, feasted.

i drove away from boone last week. i sobbed as i said goodbye to my roommates and as i left the town that had been exactly what i needed these past four years. jennie and i caravanned down the mountain and pulled over as dusk was beginning to settle over the blue ridge. the trees were a million shades of spring green and the mountains stretched endlessly toward the moon.



i expressed how frustrated i was that we had to leave the beautiful mountains, the perfect restaurants, and the best friends. it wasn't fair and i probably would never be happy again. (dramatic, i know.)

jennie, always able to look past my ridiculous ability to ignore any positivity when life seems bleak, reminded me that i would find somewhere new to love. with new restaurants that fit every craving, new sights to claim as my own, and new friendships that would carry me through the next phase of life.

i have to remind myself that all new things are daunting and scary and home will always seem like the nice choice before a big change. and i don't know what that next change will be, but i know that God rewards our blind trust. when we think that life can't be better than what we already have, he likes to remind us how little we have seen and how little we know. he is bigger. he is the god of our dreams. he designed us individually to be excited by certain places or connected to new people. my life doesn't have to look like anyone else's because he has made me unlike anyone else in order to fufill some unique purpose that will hopefully reflect a part of his beating heart.

four years ago i left home and, without realizing it, found home somewhere else. i'll move somewhere new and put up pictures, different ones than i had four years ago, and be patient while i wait to find home again.

Saturday, March 22, 2014

no man is an island

I started writing this while I was in Bray over a month ago. Even though I'm now back in Boone, I figured I'd go ahead and post this because no one really reads this blog anyways :) 



A few weeks before I took off, I found out that I would be coming to Bray. I was disappointed that the other girl wasn't able to come, but I then began to romanticize this idea of me being in Ireland alone. I imagined my walking down cobblestone streets, meeting friendly men while I was walking in the mountains (I've watched P.S. I Love You too many times), and charming all these Irish people to take me in to their cottages for some potatoes.

But the reality is that after being in the country for thirty minutes, I was lonely. I had spent almost a whole day waiting in airports or being on a plane, and then I was wandering around Dublin before the sun rose wondering what the heck I was doing. I didn't mind so much being lost, but I just wanted someone to laugh about it with. I had my wonderful weekend with Amber and Laura and then they left and I got on a train and I was alone again. Everyone was so friendly and kind to me that first week, but I would leave school and have no idea what to do. My host family is extremely generous and we have great fun together, but I had these empty hours. Even though Ireland isn't exactly alien, I still constantly felt misunderstood or invisible. I felt like I was holding my breath around everyone. 

Af first this idea seemed really cool to me, than it just seemed depressing :) 

I traveled alone again to London and had another wonderful weekend with my sister and her friends, but then I returned to Bray and felt isolated once again. I couldn't believe that I had four more weeks here. I didn't want to admit defeat to anyone by saying I wanted to go home, but home just seemed so warm and comfortable. Add on to this all the failed attempts to meet up with some girls from App that were only a few miles away, and I just felt desperate.

I didn't want to pray about it either. I didn't want other people to be praying for me. I just wanted to fix it myself and be fine. I didn't want to need people or ask people for help. 

But thankfully I have people in my life who do pray for me, who encourage me, and who know me really well, and still love me somehow.

I like doing things by myself. Grocery shopping. Movies. Long drives.

But more important than adventure, stamps on your passport, Instagram likes, and beautiful places is people. I used to be intimidated by other people, but then I realized how much we all need each other.  Now that I know what that means, it's easier to see people for all the beauty that they are.

It's easy to make life about what I'm going to do next. Where am I going to live. How many miles can I get away from Huntersville, NC.

The problem with all of these questions is my motive. I wish I would stop looking at a map and start being more concerned about calling. Not where is the Lord calling me to do, but how can I use my gifts and passions to the fullest extent in order to glorify God.


Flash forward seven weeks. I'm sitting in Espresso News, trying to type up lesson plans so I can actually graduate college. I still have no idea what is next. I feel like I don't even know what the possibilities are, but I know that my worth isn't determined by where I end up.

I miss Ireland. I miss the sweet people. The jokes of older men with their rosy cheeks. I miss big bowls of soup with brown bread. Large cups of tea with scones after school. I miss walking everywhere and breathing in the fresh air to and from school.  The wild beauty of the Wicklow Mountains. I miss trains. I miss the beautiful buildings of London and the wonder of the city. I miss seeing my sister almost every weekend and talking whenever because we are in the same time zone.

When people ask "How was Ireland?!" I either say "Such a great experience. Wow. Just so good." or "I mean I was alone, so...." and then I try to explain how something can be terribly lonely but also exactly what I needed.



The unknown is scary. Whether that is the a new place where everyone is a stranger or sitting in your apartment with your best friends, not quite sure where to go after you move out in a month. But the more I realize that I have no control and that life isn't smooth edges and postcard images, I can focus on the only constant- which is Christ. I waver. I change my mind. I can't make a decision about dinner, let alone what to pursue after college. But I don't walk in fear as much anymore, because his consistency means that I don't have to try so hard to walk in straight, set ahead path. No matter what choices I make, no matter what place I live in, or the friends I have- the only thing I can know for sure is that he wants to know me. And the only choice I have that really matters, is will I trust him enough to know him too.




Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Take Off



On my walks to school in the morning,  I still can't believe I'm here. I've been working and hoping for this for almost four years, but it still seems crazy to me that I am halfway around the globe. I'll see the mountains in the distance and a beautiful, very Irish house and remember how ridiculous it is.



I arrived in Dublin at 5 AM on Saturday (midnight in NC) and realized the bus I had planned to take wouldn't be leaving for another hour and a half. The friendly people of Ireland helped me figure out another bus to take, then another person pointed me towards the hostel, and then I asked another person since I was rolling my suitcase down the empty streets of Dublin in the pitch black morning. I was really just eager to see my sister. And to not be a walking target.

I am hopeless without Google maps, and the second time I asked a man for help, he walked me to my hostel. I could of cried when I walked in. After waiting a bit inside, a guy at the desk asked if I was Amber's sister and helped me check in early. When I opened the door to the room, Amber ran outside to me and it felt so surreal!

We had a beautiful day with Laura, Amber's flatmate, and I'm still surprised I made it through without passing out. We walked the beautiful Bray Head on Saturday, heard some Irish pub music, and explored Dublin. I'm eager to get back into the city, mostly for the scones at Queen of Tarts.

The children at my school are WONDERFUL. I get to work one on one with a couple of students, and I love hearing their observations. Even though we both speak English, there is still somewhat of a language barrier!






Saturday, November 9, 2013

Friday, November 8, 2013



for a while i always wanted my hair to be glossy and to look polished. but then i realized, i'm not very polished and my hair was made for a little frizz. that's okay.