I have a dream...

Many dreams will remain only dreams, but some will come true. Which ones are which? What determines how much time and energy we put where? How do we know?

I don't know the answers to these questions, and like many of my dreams, the picture is cloudy, the sound is garbled, and the ending is cut off... all I know is that at some point we have to give ourselves over to the process. Along the way, some things will fall apart, some things may fly up in our faces, still others may just sort of eerily fall into place: but all are choreographed by the Master.

Right now, I am living in the beginning of a long-time dream. I have a job, an apartment, and some really great opportunities. Put simply, I am blessed. There were some hiccups along the way and there will be more to come I'm sure. For now, I'm just gonna keep dreaming good dreams...

Here are some pictures of my first place!

My stoop and my bike

Hallway

Bedroom closet

Bedroom

Bathroom counter

Bathroom

Living area

Kitchen (view from the dining area)

Dining area

Christmas [In July]

Folks,
      I'll admit I was racking my brain for what to write about this month. I thought about just letting this one slide by and making up for it with two posts in August. I came up with a few ideas yesterday... one about my love of reading and the books I am currently obsessed with, another about the conferences going on this summer in Montreat. I just couldn't get myself to sit down and process either of those. Then, today at work, LIFE hit me square in the face.
      It was a quiet moment in the store, a rarity during the mornings of youth conferences when hundreds of teens stream in to get their t-shirts and Cheerwine. In the midst of my own to-do list of cooking, cleaning, packing, forms, classes, and the line of customers waiting to purchase their items, my thoughts were interrupted by a pair of earrings sliding across the counter.
       I reached for a box to put them in and the customer said, "Oh, I don't need a box, I'll wear them out!"
       I said, "Alright, that's good with me! Your total is $36.38."
       I swiped her card, and as I waited for the receipt to print, she said through tears, "They remind me of my son. He always loved calla lillies." Then, as if realizing she was talking out loud, she said, "I lost him recently." More tears.
       I was dumb-founded. Asking her to sign the receipt seemed trivial. I didn't know what to say. This wasn't the funeral home. This wasn't a pre-packaged environment where sadness and tears and death were expected; the norm. There wasn't a box of Kleenexes within arm's length and there weren't any flowers to move around for the hundredth time.
       There was only me. And her. And her grief. Suddenly, the three of us seemed to be taking up too much room so I stepped back a step and said the only thing I could think of, "How old was he?"
       "25," she said.
       "Wow," I said solemnly. "Well, I'm sure he would have loved to see you wear these."
       She removed the earrings from the paper card they were on and I held the pieces in my hand as she slowly and deliberately swapped old for new. I smiled and she smiled and she took a deep breath and walked away to join her friends.
      It bothered me--that space between the "Wow." and the "Well." That space in my thoughts that said, "How, when, where, why?" "WHY?" I wanted to know everything and I wanted to know nothing. I wanted to hear her story and not have to hear her pain. But, then, the two are inseparable. So it goes in life. So it goes with our faith stories and our loss-of-faith stories, our love stories and our loss-of-love stories. And no, this post really isn't about Christmas [in July] or Christmas at all. Except for the truth of the One incarnate, the One who came so that our tears and our grief and our pain will be no more. Praise be to God.

Duck, Duck, Goose

Whew! What a whirlwind these past few weeks have been. Graduation, Spain, the death of my grandfather, and now transitioning to mountain life again. I am reminded constantly of how blessed I am and of how the Lord is working in my life to bring about changes and challenges in His perfect timing. In the midst of juggling a job, online classes, family, friends, and my own to-do list, I feel as if I am nearing the end of 'getting my ducks in a row' for the next few years. It is a satisfying feeling knowing that I have somewhat of a plan and it is comforting to know that even if none of it works the way I plan, there will always be solutions as part of the bigger plan.

I will be sending in my application for student licensure in embalming and funeral directing this week. I have gathered almost everything I need and signed on all the dotted lines. Its a strange feeling--one that feels final and good--like a quiet certainty. Its the same certainty I have when people think I am joking about my career goals. I just laugh a little along with them but deep down I remember the widow shaking my hand and offering the most smile she can muster as she steps away from the grave of her husband. I remember the child asking to watch us cover the grave of his friend as seeks to satisfy his curiosity about the finality of it all. I remember the family who buried two loved ones within a week and how grateful they were for our attentiveness to their every need. I will have more and more to remember and to hold for those whose hands are full at the moment, but who will one day look back and remember for themselves their loved one being laid to rest.

Despite my doubts and reservations about this career and about the industry as a whole, I believe there is value in this work and that good can come even from the most tragic moments of life. After all, death is a part of this life and it touches everyone. I hope the business part of funerals continues to improve and that the Lord continues to work wonders in the spiritual part. By His grace, I will work in the human part.

For now, I will do laundry and enjoy this day.