Turning places into Places

            The shop was filled with people and the sounds of coffee being ground and milk being steamed. Sunlight was streaming in through windows, landing on tables surrounded by friends, families, and strangers. It was bustling without being chaotic. No one realized that the girl sitting in the leather armchair in the corner (me) was trying to find a new coffee home.

I left many things and people behind in Waco—places and people that I miss every day. Waco became home during the four years I spent there. Common Grounds—my coffee home in Waco—was my hub for the majority of those years. It’s where I met up with friends, made friends, worked, laughed, felt at home even while feeling homesick. It was my Place. That’s what I’m looking for here in Nashville. I doubt I’ll ever find another Common Grounds—but I hope my doubts are unfounded. I hope I find a place where I meet just as many wonderful people; where they learn my name and what I like to drink; where I can feel at home in a new and—at least for now—strange city. A place to make my Place.

I tried the first coffee shop on my list today. Yes, there is a list. How are you supposed to conduct a thorough evaluation of a city’s coffee offerings without a list? Crema is located in the SoBro (South of Broadway) area of Nashville and, though it’s a bit far away from my apartment, I really loved the atmosphere. The baristas were friendly and the chairs were full, though the shop never felt crowded. It felt cozy and lived-in—the kind of place where life happens. Not just work or meetings or quick get-togethers, but actual complicated, messy, joyful, wondrous life. I was only there for an hour, so I suppose it’s possible I’m mistaken in my first impression, but for the time being I’ll take it as a good sign that I gathered such an impression so quickly.

My cappuccino was delicious and they even offer coffee classes (which I fully intend on taking part in once I’m able to stop pinching my pennies quite so tightly). Their espresso (at least, the one they were featuring today) seemed quite bright and acidic. I tend to prefer bolder, deeper coffee with more body—just a personal preference. That being said, this is a quality shop that produces quality coffee and exceptional drinks. 

 Crema has the potential to be a new coffee home—but like I said, it’s only the first shop on my list. I’ve got a little more exploring to do before I weasel my way onto a shop’s Regulars list. I believe it’s important to have your Place wherever it is you live. Your very own Cheers or Central Perk—the Place where you know them and they know you and you can always go when you need a lift. I happen to think that coffee shops make great Places, but you’ve got to find what works for you. Maybe it’s a book or music store (those still exist, right?). Perhaps it’s a bar (careful) or a café you eat at several times a week. 

Finding and making a place your Place takes time, persistence, and a bit of courage to put yourself out there, but they are so worth it. I can’t imagine my time in Waco without Common Grounds. Now, I’m looking for the Place that will make my season in Nashville just as wonderful...maybe even more so. 

For more information on Crema, check out their website: http://www.crema-coffee.com/

Simple Thoughts on a Great Hall and its Many Rooms

Let me begin by saying that the blogosphere probably doesn’t need yet another response to Rachel Held Evans’ article on millennials and the church, and it certainly doesn’t need one written by me. I have no deep, innovative insight to bring to the conversation. Neither do I have extensive knowledge of complex theological concepts. And I especially don’t have charts, numbers, or studies to back up what I say (mostly because I hate math). 

All of that being said, lately I’ve read many blogs and articles and taken part in many conversations (both over the internet and in person) concerning the church, its teachings, and faith in general. All of these conversations have gotten my wheels turning, which I count as a good thing. Wheels turning means something is happening, something is being processed. If wheels aren’t turning it means something is missing. I process things best through talking or writing about them, ergo, here we all are.

When I think of God, our powerful, wonderful Almighty God, I think of complexity. Lucky for us He has made some things relatively simple for us (emphasis on the relatively). Thinking of God Himself, though? I’m not sure how anyone could call him anything other than complex. I find evidence of this in creation...dynamic, complex, vibrant creation. Every person, animal, and plant is unique. Things change over time, people change over time, climates change over time. Creation is the definition of dynamic. And yet it is also consistent. It’s predictable to an extent. The natural laws, as we know them, provide order in the midst of chaos. In that I see a hint of God’s unchangingness (my computer is trying to tell me that isn’t a real world, but I’m going to use it anyway. Take that, Microsoft Word).

So here’s my thought: if creation is capable of simultaneously reflecting both the dynamic and unchanging aspects of its Creator, why can’t the church, the very body of Christ, do the same? I adore the foreword to C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity because he discusses this in such a clear, yet beautifully illustrated way. Undoubtedly there are certain tenants of the Christian faith in which everyone who would call themselves a follower of Christ must believe. But surely there are also elements of the life lived for Christ that need not look the exact same for everyone. There are constants, but isn’t there also room for the kind of dynamic variety we find in creation?

Lewis describes the ‘constants’ of our faith as “a hall out of which doors open into several rooms”. Finding one’s way into the hall is of the utmost importance, but it is choosing a room with “fires and chairs and meals” that leads to the kind of community I believe God always intended his church to embody. Lewis encourages us to choose a ‘door’ based not on its “paint and paneling,” but by asking the important questions: “’Are these doctrines true: Is holiness here? Does my conscience move me towards this? Is my reluctance to knock at this door due to my pride, or my mere taste, or my personal dislike of this particular door-keeper?’” (xv)

What is wonderful about this idea of simultaneous unchangingness and dynamic variety, this great hall and its many rooms, is that it “suggests that at the centre of each there is a something, or a Someone, who against all divergencies of belief, all differences of temperament, all memories of mutual persecution, speaks with the same voice” (xii). We all need to be careful to remember that it is not the hearth, nor the meals, nor even the other people in the rooms that bind us together. It is the one responsible for building the hall in the first place.

So what do all of these rooms have to do with the Evans’ article and the internet tizzy it generated? So much of the language and so many of the ideas I read (both in the article and in responses to it) imply that there are only two rooms in such a hall: a right room and a wrong one. By all means let’s discuss the goings-on of our rooms and hall! But let’s leave the arrogance out of it, shall we? Let’s stop pretending that all of the secrets and truths are hidden in a single room, or within a single generation. This ‘room’ you’ve found yourself in? It was inhabited long before you entered, and will continue to be so long after you’ve left it for an even grander hall. Become a part of what came before you and help to grow it into something that will stand long after you’ve departed. But as long as our ‘discussions’ are full of accusations, arrogance, and “you just don’t understand” statements we will do nothing but tear the room, and each other, apart.

So let’s discuss! Remember how there’s space for both the constant and the dynamic? Let’s find common ground in the constant and recognize in each other the kindred spirits of this royal priesthood of which we are all, unbelievably, allowed to be a part. Perhaps then we’ll be able to approach discussions and disagreements (because they are inevitable) with love and humility. Perhaps then the discussions will produce fruit and greater understanding. Perhaps we’ll stop pelting the doors of other rooms with hate and disdain, and start meeting for family dinners in the great room of the hall we all share. 

So you see, I don’t have any fresh insights into why millennials are leaving the church, or any radically divergent opinion on whether or not such a phenomenon exists at all. I have an idea that there’s more than one way of doing things. I have an idea that there are some things that should be the same for all of us, those things that are represented by Lewis’ ‘great hall’. I have an idea that the focus needs to be on bringing people into the great hall in the first place. From there, with the Spirit and a mentor as guides, an individual can find which room they desire to be a part of. It shouldn’t be a choice made lightly or without prayer and careful thought, but it is ultimately a choice made by an individual. Let’s focus on making sure that, whichever room they choose, they are welcomed joyously into a community striving to love their God and Savior, one another, and the world.

All quotes taken from Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis, published by HarperCollins in 2001.

Sarah's Rules for Packing (Guidelines, They're Actually Guidelines)

Summer is often the season for travel, which inevitably leads to suitcases and intense bouts of frustration. Since many I know are set to jet off at some point in the coming months, whether it be near or far, I decided to dwell for a bit on the subject of packing and share what little wisdom I've picked up during preparations for my own travels. Hopefully my musings are something of a help to someone out there! Before beginning, I should note that pretty much everything I'm about to offer is geared toward women. I'm afraid you men will be a bit left out of this post. My apologies. Here we go...

1. Do as the French do. Really, when is this not a good rule to live by? Kissing, pastry-making, Coco Chanel...it is rarely a bad idea to follow in French footsteps. Living in Europe, and in Paris in particular, however, leaves one with very little closet space. It is for this reason that French women tend to have relatively small, yet fabulous, wardrobes. Rather that having oodles of clothes, they have an assortment of classic pieces they wear much more frequently in a variety of creative combinations. I recommend this line of thinking when packing. Pick out the clothes you wear the most (and therefore presumably like best), and see how many combinations you can make. Add any pieces you deem necessary (using discretion, of course) to allow for the greatest number of combinations using the fewest number of pieces. It may mean you have to wash your clothes a bit more often, but it will also allow you to pick up a few pieces overseas.
2. There are, in my opinion, a few essentials no woman should travel without: a good, classic pair of black pumps (ones you can actually walk in), a classic black dress that can be dressed up for a date or night out on the town, and a black bathing suit. Okay, technically the bathing suit doesn't have to be black, it just provides a nice sense of symmetry to the rule. You just never know when a bathing suit will come in handy.
3. In terms of shoes, all of the books and movies that make it seem like sassy, chic 3 inch heels are totally wearable, particularly on the cobblestone streets of many a European city, are complete and utter bullshit. On the rare occasion that you are required to make it work in heels you will likely be miserable the entire time, so it really isn't worth bringing more than one pair, two at the absolute most. Use the room in your suitcase for flats and sandals instead, a couple of casual pairs as well as a dressy set or two. You will also be walking a lot more than you're used to. You're feet will inevitably begin to hurt quite a bit, probably within your first 48 hours there. For this reason, bring insoles. The Dr. Scholls aisle at CVS is your new best friend. Seriously, insoles aren't just for old ladies. They'll keep you from constantly wanting to cut off your own feet and chuck 'em out the window.
4. Be honest with yourself about working out. If you're actually going to exercise while you're over there, by all means pack the clothes and shoes you need. If you want to exercise while you're over there, but probably won't, use the room for an extra top or dress. But, really.
5. Books. You won't get any summer reading done while you're over there. Don't bring it with you. Fun reading can be bought once you're over there. The printing press was invented in Europe for goodness' sake...they have books.
6. On the off chance your luggage is lost on the way over, make sure you have the essentials with you. Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, the bare minimum of make-up (enough to make you look human after a transatlantic flight), a change of underwear and perhaps a top. Pants can last an extra day or two if need be.
7. Just buy a hair straightener and/or curling iron once you're over there. Adapters and converters are notoriously unreliable and are just as likely to burst into flame (it does happen, I can attest to that fact) as they are to work properly. And if you plan on traveling abroad again at some point, you'll already be set with the necessary hair tools. 

Happy packing!

Earthquakes & Aftershocks

I am a big fan of Taylor Swift. Say what you will about her voice, her music, her serial dating…girlfriend knows how to turn her complicated, abstract emotions into beautiful, articulate lyrics that speak to the soul of any girl who’s had her heart broken. I envy her that particular ability. I love to write (forgive me for stating what I hope is the obvious), but I find it almost impossible to properly describe my heartache. It seems too big, too complicated, too elusive to accurately put into words. But then tonight, sitting in bed, I had my Taylor Swift moment. I suddenly had the words.

It’s like an earthquake. It throws you off balance, disorients you, makes everything you thought was secure become terrifyingly flimsy. Everything you worked so hard to put together, all the details and order of your life, is thrown into disarray and chaos. For some people it only takes one earthquake before they move on in an attempt to find some place without tremors, where the earth doesn’t pull itself out from under them without warning. Others try to ride it out. They put everything, each picture frame, book and vase, back in its proper place. Some will take measures to protect themselves against future damage. Move to a safer building, buy a generator, keep bottled water handy. They know there will be future earthquakes, so they do their best to be prepared.

And then there are those of who have lived so long in the realm of earth-shattering days that we know the patterns well enough to avoid surprise…most of the time. We know to expect the aftershock. People think the earthquake is the scary part, and of course it is. Your world collapses, and you’re never sure until its over whether or not you’ll be able to put it back together. But what is even more terrifying is the idea of putting everything back in order, managing to feel secure and calm again, and being completely blind sighted by the aftershock. Suddenly you find yourself back in the shattered chaos, just when you thought you were safe again. But if you know it’s coming, it isn’t nearly as traumatic. If you know to expect another round of disorienting fear and pain, you can prepare yourself, and at the very least avoid the added pain of surprise.

Maybe you’re like me and have lived for years in an area prone to earthquakes…some so small you barely notice, others so big you look at the rubble and are unable to see the remnants of the past or any hope for the future. You become so accustomed to the sickeningly cyclical pattern of rebuilding, normality, and destruction that you forget there is any other kind of existence. Doesn’t everyone live this way? In a way we do. But there is a difference between those who experience the occasional, inevitable disaster, and those who choose to plant themselves in the middle of the danger zone.

So what do you do? Do you keep living in the danger zone? Or do you decide, finally, that enough is enough, pack up your life and leave the rubble behind? The world is never going to stop shaking, but anyone could tell you the fault lines aren’t suited to longevity. I’ve decided I’m moving away from the danger zone. I can’t live in a glass house built on a fault line and expect anything but shards and splinters. Maybe it’s possible to build an earthquake-proof house…but you can’t do it alone. I can’t do it alone. 
 

Lots of New, Lots of Doubt

            Goodness, it’s been so long since I’ve written! Maybe the urge to do so now is the result of the change in weather. Autumn is, after all, my favorite season, and the signs of its impending arrival have my skin and spidey-senses tingling. So much has happened so far this semester...where do I even begin?

            A couple of not so great things have come about. I realized, somewhat belatedly, that I am behind in credit hours, which translates into me needing to overload my last two semesters. While this isn’t my ideal situation, I trust in God’s provision to help me successfully get through it. I’ve also been dealing with a stubborn illness. I’m on my fourth round of Strep since June, with the last three rounds coming almost back-to-back in the last month. It’s been discouraging and frustrating, as well as downright inconvenient! But, praise the Lord, I am finally starting to feel better with this latest antibiotic. I just pray I continue to get better and heal, and stay healthy until December when I can get these blasted tonsils removed!

            Well that’s enough of the less-than-wonderful for now. I’m a silver lining kind of person (somewhat frustratingly so, I’ve been told before), so naturally I looked for them in these situations. Both have forced me to rely on the Lord, His provision and strength and, even though that isn’t always fun, it is a genuinely good thing.

            What I really want to talk about this go-around is identity. It’s popped up on my radar consistently this semester, and I have a feeling it will continue to. My college years have brought new people into my life at an astonishing rate, blessing me with new relationships as well as reconfiguring some old ones. I’ve recently started dating someone, and on top of all of that is the wonderful/terrifying experience of growing up (whatever that actually means). That’s a lot of new to process.

            How does all of that new influence who I am as a person? How does it impact my identity? Great questions. Confusing answers. I’ve learned a lot about myself because of the people who have entered my life…I’m a coffee addict, I love mornings but am actually a night owl, few things make me happier than receiving flowers, I appreciate thoughtfulness, being ignored may be the thing I hate the most, I love long conversations with the people I love…all of things I discovered through or because of my relationships with people very different from myself. I don’t actually have very many friends who are markedly similar to me. There are common interests and shared personality traits, but a host of important differences as well. I feel all the more blessed for that fact.

            But it hasn’t all been self-discovery. There has been a lot of self-doubt thrown in the mix, especially when my own opinions and feelings start to change. It’s easy for others, and even myself, to wonder if such changes are personal growth or the result of influence from the people in my life. Do I actually want to do this, or am I doing it because it’s something they like doing? Do I agree with that, or is it just easier than disagreeing? Sometimes such doubts are valid, and even if they aren’t the questions they raise can be constructive and inspire valuable self-evaluation.

            Often, however, those doubts can become things Satan exploits in order to breed more doubt and insecurity in my life. Instead of feeling secure in my relationship with someone, I start to doubt myself and the strength of our connection. I’m talking about friendships, romantic relationships, as well as relationships with family. Satan loves nothing more than to cause tension and division, and one of the easiest ways to do that is to take advantage of the doubts we have about our own identity.

            That’s why I’ve found it is so incredibly important to root my identity in the Lord and who HE says I am. Knowing what He has to say about my identity serves as a filter for all of the smaller stuff. My likes, dislikes and opinions may change, but as long as I am faithfully pursuing and obeying the Lord, I can remain confident that the core of who I am remains unchanged. I also have to remember how much I love the differences in my friends and family…I would be disappointed if they tried to alter themselves in order to become more like me! I love them because of who they are. Why do I doubt that they feel the same way about me?

            Identity is tricky. It’s constantly changing and adapting based on the people and experiences life throws our way. But that’s why it is wonderfully imperative that we maintain an intimate relationship with God. He fulfills our identity, is constantly transforming us into the person He always meant for us to be, the very best version of ourselves. If we listen He will guide us…grant us peace when we’re living as we should, allow feelings of discontent when we’re pretending to be something we’re not. How blessed are we! Identity is a complex road to navigate, but I’m lucky enough to walk hand-in-hand with my God who paves the way before me. 

Curves Ahead

A Flawed Pursuit

I ran across the phrase “a flawed and imperfect pursuit” in my Bible study this morning, and it stuck with me. The study this week is, fittingly, over Sarah. I’m starting to think I share more with her than a name. She had control issues, liked to take things into her own hands, loved the Lord but often doubted His power…hers was a dedicated pursuit, but a flawed one. Oh yes, I share quite a bit with my namesake.

For most of my life I have been the ‘good girl’, making the right choices and doing what I should. It was a title I was proud of, until it started to chafe. The past few years, I’ve realized, have been a precarious balancing act between wanting to continue being the ‘good girl’ with a heart for the Lord, and wanting to prove that there’s more to me, that I can be just like everyone else and make bad decisions and mistakes. Talk about a flawed pursuit.

The wonderful thing about it is I’m not the only one doing the pursuing. My Savior, my Jesus, pursued me perfectly and wonderfully and saved my soul. My Father is in constant pursuit, through His Holy Spirit, of my whole heart. So while my pursuit is flawed and imperfect, His is perfect. He could change my heart instantaneously, put an end to the balancing game once and for all, but instead He chooses to lead me through the process of gradual transformation. When I fall or wander off and my pursuit starts to sputter, He meets me and draws me in again. Isn’t that amazing? In order that we might pursue Him better, God pursues us.

Ultimately it’s reassuring to know that my pursuit of God is actually a journey I take with Him. His mercies are new every morning and His Spirit is always with me, guiding me. The journey hasn’t always been, and won’t always be, smooth and without its troubles. But I know where it will leave me. I will end up in the loving arms of the God who moved heaven and earth to save me, who died so all the flaws could be left behind. What an incredible pursuit.

Changes

            It’s that time of year again (for some of us anyway)…graduation! Even those of us who aren’t walking across a stage feel a sense of change around this time. Some part of the routine we’ve spent the last year building is now going to change. I’m thankful for the fairly nontraditional college experience I’ve had (two colleges in different states, studying abroad in two countries) because it’s made me a little less susceptible to the stress and anxiety that usually accompanies major change. Here are the valuable lessons God has taught me about change in the past three years…

            #1. Our countdown is not the same as God’s. We think of countdowns in terms of the next big event happening in our lives…3 weeks until graduation, 2 months until the wedding, just a few more days until see each other again. But God’s countdown is so much bigger! His plans don’t end and begin anew with each new milestone in our lives…it’s all the same plan for Him! That is so immense a thought I can’t really grasp it, and yet I find incredible comfort in it. And you should, too.

            #2. If there is an end, there is also a beginning just around the corner. We tend to focus so much on what we’re losing, and forget to anticipate all the new and wonderful things God is about to bring into our lives. We don’t like to let go of dreams, or the things that make us feel comfortable, but if we can figure out how to we’ll be much more ready for whatever God has planned next.

            #3. Don’t get too caught up in missing or anticipating. When we focus too much on mourning what we’ve lost, or guessing what the next step will be, we miss the things we should be savoring in the moment. Let’s be honest, one of the best parts about making a cake is sneaking tastes of the batter. So appreciate the ingredients and anticipate the finished product, but be sure to savor the batter too. The end result will taste so much sweeter if you do.

            These are the lessons that God has taught me, but I still struggle with them. Patience is not something I have in spades, so waiting on God and His timing can be extremely difficult at times. But He has been so faithful in teaching me these lessons through experiences, and looking back on the past three years there is no way I can doubt their truth and His goodness is fulfilling them. So for everyone going through a season of change…savor it and look for the lessons God’s teaching you. I promise they’re there.

Who knows where the path leads...