Shooting Stars

Oh how He loves us.

I have just had one of the most amazing experiences of my life. It brought tears to my heart and joy to my heart. But I need to start from the beginning.

I got frustrated tonight. Frustrated that people I love and care about don’t always act in ways that show they love and care for me…that the people I love aren’t perfect. I began to think about Jesus and his friends. Jesus, the Son of God, had friends that abandoned Him, betrayed Him, doubted Him…and He still loved them, enough to die a criminal’s death on a cross. Surely if Christ can love those who turned their backs on Him I can resist the temptation to give in to my frustration.

I realized that I had, yet again, let the day go by without spending any real time with my God. I decided to take advantage of the clear night and gaze out my window at God’s beautiful creation in the stars. I listened to Phil Wickham’s song “Beautiful” as I gazed, and I sat there truly amazed at how beautiful the sky was, and how beautiful my God is. I poured out my heart to Him, the pain and frustration I felt, and the need I had to know that someone cared about me enough to show me their love.

I remembered a passage I had read in “Captivating”, a favorite book of mine. The author tells about a time when she was walking on a beach and asked God for a ‘present’, a special gift just for her. God blessed her with one (I won’t spoil the story, you’ll have to read the book for yourself!). I asked God if He would send me a shooting star…not as proof, not as evidence, but as a gift. Then I asked myself, “Who am I to ask the God of the universe to send me a gift?”

I closed my eyes, reflecting on His great and mighty love, listening to the lyrics of the song. I opened my eyes…and watched as a bright star fell from the sky, its blazing tail glowing behind it. God has sent me a star…not as proof, not as evidence, but as a gift of love. It was one of the most intimate moments I have ever had with my Creator, and I couldn’t keep the tears from flowing down my face.

My first instinct was to wake my friend and tell her, or call my mom and share the story. A voice in my head said, “Of course you want to share it, show it off. Why can’t you just enjoy this moment with God?” And then, oddly, the song “Go Tell it on the Mountain” popped into my head. God commands us to go and tell, not sit and keep quiet! He gave me this wonderful, intimate gift not just for my own benefit, but so that I might go and tell of His awesome and mighty love!

So this is me telling it. This is me saying…frustrations will come, as will pain and hurt and stress and fear. But through it all there is a mighty, awesome, strong and faithful God of love who desires to draw near to us. A God who sends us shooting stars.

LORD, our Lord, 
   

how majestic is your name in all the earth!

You have set your glory 
   

in the heavens. 


Through the praise of children and infants 
   

you have established a stronghold against your enemies, 
   

to silence the foe and the avenger. 


When I consider your heavens, 
   

the work of your fingers, 
the moon and the stars, 
   

which you have set in place, 


what is mankind that you are mindful of them, 
   

human beings that you care for them?

You have made them a little lower than the angels 
   

and crowned them with glory and honor. 


You made them rulers over the works of your hands; 
   

you put everything under their feet: 


all flocks and herds, 
  

 and the animals of the wild, 


the birds in the sky, 
   

and the fish in the sea, 
   

all that swim the paths of the seas.

LORD, our Lord, 
   

how majestic is your name in all the earth!

            -Psalms 8

Don’t go through today frustrated or in pain. Turn to God; pour out your heart to Him. He will meet you there with shooting stars and so much more.

Solo in Scotland

It’s Monday afternoon and I am on a train bound for London. My solo-weekend in Scotland didn’t go exactly as planned, but it was wonderful nonetheless. Let’s start at the beginning…

Something you should know about the UK in wintertime: it gets dark early. We’re talking between three and four in the afternoon and the sun is not setting, it has already bid this side of world farewell for the night. I got into Edinburgh just after two, but by the time I made it to my hotel and back out again in search of lunch it was already after three and getting dark. I left my map in my room and stubbornly refused to believe that I would be unable to find my way around the city without it. Two sets of directions and an hour and a half later and I managed to arrive back at my hotel. I had found lunch despite the fact that many places close down between lunchtime (1 or 2) and dinnertime (6 or 7). I had gotten close to tears several times, frustrated with myself that I didn’t plan my trip better (or at all).

My friend Will was in Edinburgh for the night with his friend Paula, and after an acceptable spell of self-pity I ventured out again to join them for a ghost tour of the city (I remembered my map this time). I found them without trouble, luckily. Granted I met them on the Royal Mile, one of Edinburgh’s biggest attractions; it would have been particularly shameful if I had gotten lost attempting to find it. The tour was entertaining and informative, though not particularly scary or creepy (a fact I was more than fine with, seeing as I am a huge chicken). I’ll spare you the details of the rest of the night, but let’s leave it at this: we hit up two different pubs and the mulled mead stall at the Christmas Fair.

After a day/night spent mostly outside in the wind and occasional rain, it’s really no surprise that I woke up the next morning with my throat feeling like it had been scrubbed with sandpaper. By the time I got ready I knew it was a full-blown cold, and I would have to save some of my grander plans for a different visit. I gathered my strength, however, and went to explore the city by day, bundled up with camera in tow. I quickly grew frustrated again with my lack of planning. Don’t get me wrong; I think spontaneity is an integral part of travel. Planning every minute of every day of your trip is the one sure-fire way to ensure you won’t truly experience the place you’re visiting. But I don’t mind general outlines, a list of things to see and do (and knowledge of how to get to them), as well as a few places to eat or grab coffee.

Just as I was berating myself for choosing the first time I travelled alone to also be the first time I decided to not research the place I was visiting, I passed by the tourist information center. Now, I usually avoid any place with the word ‘tourist’ in its name, but I was desperate. It turned out to be the best decision I made whilst in Edinburgh, because I found a fantastic little book called “The Locals’ Guide To Edinburgh”. It followed through on the promise implied in its name, as every place I went to at its recommendation was free of the drippings of corporate monotony and touristy gimmicks. My only regret was that I hadn’t found the guide before I arrived in Edinburgh, because there were so many wonderful things it recommended that I no longer had the time to do.

I picked the café Patisserie Florentin out of the ranks of recommended places for coffee and a bite to eat. It was further north than I’d yet been, so the walk allowed me to see a new part of the city. I adored the walk as well as the small, bright-yellow café it led me to. Patisserie Florentin is shamelessly French in a Scottish city, and while their coffee wasn’t the best, the food was exactly what I needed. Delicious pasta in a tomato-based sauce with a bit of a kick, melt-in-your-mouth garlic bread, and a small salad with only the good stuff and a light dressing were all perfectly portioned and lovingly prepared. My soul was revived and I spent the meal lavishing attention on my wonderful travel companion that had led me there (that would be the guidebook, not some ruggedly handsome Scotsman I met along the way. Wish I could tell you differently, though).

Afterwards I decided I should go find some medicine for my cold and spend some time hanging out with the radiator in my hotel room. On the way, though, I passed by an adorable teashop with a chalkboard sign out front that read “Christmas Chai Latte”. Like I was gonna pass that up. This is what I mean by spontaneity folks, letting your heart (or your addiction to all things Christmas related) guide you to the hidden treasures of a city. This was the second best decision I made whilst in Edinburgh. I’ll tell you more about the shop a little later (hint: I went back) but let me tell you, that Christmas Chai Latte was one of the best dang things I’ve ever had. I wished, and still do, that the shop, Eteaket, had a branch in London, because that drink assuaged my longing for Starbucks’ pumpkin spice latte like no other drink has been able to.

A little later, back in my hotel room, I curled up with my freshly brewed magic feel-better potion (a.k.a. cold medicine they make you think will taste something like lemon tea, but is actually like drinking liquid menthol) and a trashy romance novel I’d borrowed off one of my hotel’s communal bookshelves. The Jasmine Veil is quite possibly the most laughably bad and blatantly risqué book I’ve ever read, which meant is was perfect for a weekend alone while feeling sick. Seriously, all you women out there, this is one of my favorite ways to chill out while alone. Curl up by the fire with the trashiest romance you can find, drink a hot drink, and laugh. That night I ate dinner at another restaurant from the guidebook called ‘Bar Roma’. They deserve a paragraph of their own…

I chose Bar Roma because the guidebook said they had over 30 different pasta dishes, all of them delicious, and because it was close by. I walked into a restaurant so Italian I almost laughed. The waiters walked around with the tops of their shirts unbuttoned, thick gold chains around their necks shining, and talked with their hands like their lives depended on it. Frescos of Italy were painted on the wall and a synthetic tree sprouted from the middle of one section of the dining room. I’m not kidding. At the same time, I knew I’d found good food. My pasta was delicious, as was the garlic bread my waiter insisted I have (you know you’re in a real Italian restaurant when the waiters do all they can to stuff you with as much food as possible. It isn’t because they want you to spend more money, although that’s a plus, but because they want you to be full of wonderful food). The cheesecake that followed was good as well, though the coffee was not. The staff was friendly and affectionate to the blonde girl from the States eating by herself, a fact I was most appreciative of.

This morning I woke up early in spite of all my body’s objections and packed to leave. I went back to Eteaket to try their food and coffee, and grab a few other things. Allow me to paint you a picture of this place: their turquoise and fuchsia color scheme was bold and funky, but was offset by the delicate patterns of the wallpaper and vintage chinaware. Their specialty is obviously tea, and the two page menu devoted exclusively to their different varieties affirms it. My granola, fruit and yogurt tasted fresh and had a flair of presentation. And here’s the kicker: my coffee was actually quite good. It was smooth without being too creamy, and though the espresso shone through well there was no lingering aftertaste. It wasn’t the most extraordinary cappuccino I’ve had, but it was good.

Having been well fed I grabbed some of their chai tea (it smelled so good) and another coffee mug (don’t judge me). I grabbed my luggage from my hotel, caught a taxi to the train station, and am now rushing past the beautiful Scottish countryside. My cold is still mercilessly present, but at least I’m going ‘home’ where I can lie in bed without feeling guilty that I’m missing out on something. I’ll be going back to Scotland one day, and Edinburgh too. There’s something about it that captured my heart. It wasn’t immediate (see above) but more of a ‘Pride and Prejudice’ kind of thing; I didn’t realize how I felt until I was already knee-deep in it. But fall in love I did with a country that has its feet firmly planted in the present while at the same time refusing to let go of its rich past. You feel the pride and love that so famously infuse the country and its countrymen, even as you walk down a street crowded with tourists. There’s a ruggedness that even an abundance of Starbucks and kitschy souvenir shops can’t dispel.

Farewell, Scotland…I’ll see you again.

Reunited

A true friend is someone around whom you can be utterly yourself. You don’t filter what you say or how you say it, you can act like a goofball and be in a bad mood, because you know that they’ve seen you at your best and your worst and still choose to stick around. As it happens, I am lucky enough to be blessed with more than one true friend. This week, however, I spent quality time with just one of them.

She's here! 

Tilden was my roommate my freshman year of college at Washington & Lee. That year was one of the toughest of my life, but I’ve learned to see God’s design in it. One of those designs was Tilden. There is no doubt in my mind that if she hadn’t been my roommate, hadn’t become one of the best friends I’ve ever had, I wouldn’t have made it through that year. Most people think of a soulmate as the romantic love of their life…I think that definition is a bit narrow. For me a soulmate is someone God created with me in mind, just as He created me while thinking of them. There is a part of my soul that speaks to a part of theirs. That fact makes mistakes a little easier to forgive, love a little easier to share, challenges a little easier to face. I have a few soulmates that I know of, and Tilden is absolutely one of them.

In Kensington Gardens amongst the leaves.

If you doubt the depth of my affection for her, let me prove it with this: I woke up at 5:30 in the morning to pick her up from the airport. I epic-failed at getting there on time (I would share the whole story but it’s much too traumatic) but I did eventually find her. We only get to see another twice a year, once in the fall and once in the spring, so it had been eight months since I’d actually seen her. There really is nothing like hugging someone you haven’t seen in a long time; you can actually feel the love pass between you. Having successfully gathered her up we journeyed back to my place in South Ken. We grabbed lunch at Kensington Square Kitchen, one of my favorite spots for both food and coffee (something we both needed badly). Afterwards we walked around South Kensington and Kensington Gardens for a while, taking in all of the beautiful fall scenery.

At Covent Garden

Monday we woke up and made our way to Covent Garden for an outing before I had to be back for class. We’re both Christmas fanatics and loved seeing all of the decorations. We got cider that, contrary to my understanding, was apparently alcoholic (we were congratulated by the servers for ‘getting an early start’). We wandered around, finding cute places we wished we owned, and ended up in Trafalgar Square. From there we hit up Tapped & Packed for great coffee and talked about our plans for the coffee shop we plan to open one day. Dreams are even better when you have someone to share them with. After my class we made a trip to Harrods where the phrases ‘one day’ and ‘I could justify that’ were uttered so many times I lost count. We grabbed tea and cake at an extremely odd little café…we’re still debating whether it was more French or Turkish. For dinner that night we grabbed Thai food (a new experience for me) at a restaurant across from our hotel. We had Jesus talk and life talk and it was marvelous. Afterwards we stopped by Whole Foods where we got Strawberry beer and berry Chantilly cake, all of which we ate and drank whilst watching ‘Bridesmaids’ back in our room. Basically, it was the perfect way to start the week.

Beer, cake and a chick-flick...what more could you ask for?

Tuesday was our long day (I decided to skip my class…such a delinquent). We headed over to Brick Lane and the Spitalfields Market. We went in cute shops and vintage stores, and lusted after beautiful clothes and fun useless things. We had lunch in a great place called The Luxe, which isn’t as snazzy as it sounds (it was great, just not a shmancy as the name would have you believe). The food and drinks were delicious, and we found out they were going to ahve live music in their basement bar the next night. After lunch we decided to check out Kensington Palace and its ‘Enchanted Palace’ exhibit. If your reaction to that statement was: “Hmm, that sounds like it would be both incredibly interesting and utterly bizarre”, you were absolutely correct. I can’t even describe it, so I’m not going to try. It was weird but great; let’s leave it at that. We went to the Winter Wonderland fair in Hyde Park later that night, though I’m not sure either of us actually had the energy for it. We ended up glad to have gone, though. It was kind of like the Texas State Fair, but Christmas-y and more German. We had burgers and fries whilst listening to a great (and attractive) musician who was playing at the ice rink. We may or may not have gotten more beer and cake at Whole Foods. We also may or may not have watched ‘Stardust’ (a great movie, by the way; full of whimsy). It was another full day with another perfect ending.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Wednesday I had to go to work, but Tilden decided to come with me to that side of town. I dropped her at another of my favorite coffee places (sensing a theme?) with a promise to meet up for lunch. We did, at Farm Collective (great food), and afterwards I showed her around my museum. She headed off to the Museum of London while I finished up at work, but we met up again after I got off at St Ali’s (a great coffee place just around the corner from my museum). In all honesty I wasn’t in a great mood that day; the brisk pace we’d been functioning at finally caught up with me, and I was not at all pleasant to be around. Like a true friend, though, Tilden stuck it out and didn’t let me out of the Thai food/live music date we’d planned for that night. We got terrific pad thai at a little place called Rosa’s near Spitalfields, then hurried over to The Luxe to catch the music. The first act (which we actually thought was the only one) was good, but not the best of the night. We saw Nikki Murray, Morning Lane and Citizen, all wonderful bands (Morning Lane was our favorite though, not least because their lead singer looked like a mix of Javier Bardem and Jeffrey Dean Morgan in P.S. I Love You). We drank mojitos and Coronas, listened to awesome music, talked, laughed, and basically had a fantastic night.

At the Texas Embassy

Thursday was Thanksgiving and I had work again. Tilden decided to check out the British Museum and another coffee shop on my list. We met up after work for tea at the Muffin Man Tea Shop across the street from our hotel, which was delicious. The slump I’d experienced the day before hit Tilden that night, but we decided to push through and head to dinner at the Texas Embassy (not an actual diplomatic establishment) with a group from Baylor. We ended up being happy we did, of course. The Tex-Mex wasn’t the greatest, although I thought mine was pretty delicious, but it was a great way to spend the holiday. It felt like being back at home, and we were in great company. It didn’t hurt that our waiter was ‘absolutely precious’. We headed back that night and watched ‘The Holiday’  (it’s officially the Christmas season now, don’t judge). We fell asleep dreaming of Jude Law knocking on our door at three in the morning (it didn’t happen).

Friday was our last day, and I had asked to get off work a bit early so we could have another full day of adventures. Tilden headed off to St Paul’s and the central part of the city for the morning, but we met up for lunch when I got off work at 1. We were both a little worse for wear from the cold and a lack of food. Our wonderful lunch at The Fence turned us around, and we talked for over an hour while we finished our wine. We crashed for an hour when we got back to the hotel, and what a lovely nap it was. We did laundry at my place afterwards and I packed for my trip to Scotland. While the clothes were in the dryer we went to find dinner and ended up at a lovely place called Muriel’s Kitchen. We couldn’t have asked for a better last supper; it felt like being in someone’s kitchen, surrounded by people in a kind of community atmosphere. The food was delicious and we had another great talk while we finished off our drinks. We grabbed dessert to go, got the laundry and my suitcase from my place, and made for the hotel. We got showers and packed, then settled down to eat cake, drink beer and watch a movie (‘Catch and Release’ this time) for the last time…until March, anyway.

This morning she headed for the airport and I made for the train station; she’s on her way back to Virginia and I’m travelling towards Scotland. I’m sitting on my train, writing about the best week I’ve had in London and listening to a playlist I made for Tilden at the end of our freshman year. The songs all have titles like ‘I’m Only Me When I’m With You’, ‘Seasons of Love’, ‘I’ll Be Seeing You’, and ‘You Raise Me Up’; they make me smile and tear up at the same time.

'Till March... 

I already miss my best friend. Twice a year is not nearly enough, but it’s what we’ve got at this point in our lives. We had a week filled with adventures and new experiences, but my favorite part was the talking. We talked about Jesus, dreams, guys, dream guys, coffee, travel, family, friends, struggles, clothes…there was actually very little we didn’t talk about at some point. We laughed a lot and made plans for the next time we’ll be in the same place. My heart is full of love and joy right now, and I find it completely appropriate that the final song on the playlist just finished. In the words of Timone and Pumba: Hakuna Matata.

A Whirlwind Weekend

King's College, Cambridge

The past few days have been some of the busiest I’ve had in a while, but they’ve been great! London is really starting to open its arms to winter; the cold is setting in and the Christmas decorations are slowly but surely going up. I am definitely a fall and winter person. Nothing warms my heart more than seeing my breath as I walk to class in the morning, or warming my hands against a hot cup of coffee, or sitting on my bed next to a warm radiator while I type on my computer.

Saturday I went to Cambridge with Brittany and Jennifer, and just to answer the implied question up front, I’m leaning towards Oxford as a preference. That being said, Cambridge is absolutely gorgeous. Oxford just has a vibe I’m partial towards. Cambridge, however, seems to be a bit more spacious and the college campuses are truly stunning. The varying architectural styles are interesting too…they make it seem as if the city was pieced together bit by bit over the centuries (which, it kind of was).

Punting!

We did a punting tour of the colleges along the river early on in the morning to get our bearings. For those of you unfamiliar with punting, think of the gondolas in Venice. It’s similar to that, but the boats have flat bottoms, a fact that makes the ride much smoother from what I could tell. Afterwards we visited King’s College and its famous chapel which, for the record, is jaw-droppingly gorgeous. We also saw St John’s College, another stunner. The day was truly wonderful and I loved getting a chance to see a city and university so steeped in history…it’s one of the lovely things about living in England, and one of the things I’ll miss most.

St John's College, Cambridge

Sunday Brittany and I ventured to a Vintage Fair in Clerkenwell, near where I work. I’m so glad we went because it was such a cool experience. The town hall it was held in was as retro as the clothing, jewelry and memorabilia that filled it. Vendors brought their best wares and filled the place to the brim. Frank Sinatra and other classic artists set the mood as their tunes hummed along in the background. They even had a hair and make-up duo decking people out in vintage style, an offer I gladly took advantage of. They did a fantastic job, and I may have just fallen in love with the look enough to give it a try as an everyday look once I’m home…

King's College Cathedral

After the fair we decided to get tea at Bea’s, which was somewhat poetic as it was where we went on our first Thursday adventure many weeks ago. The tea was delicious, and the scones (my first time having them) were fantastic. It came with cupcakes and some mini-desserts that were quite good as well. We walked around the British Museum for an hour to kill some time (oh how I will miss being able to say things like that) before heading to Chinatown for dinner (which was really delicious). It really was a great day, full of the things I love most about this city.

Finally we come to today…feeling exhausted yet? Brittany and I woke up semi-early to go to the Sherlock Holmes museum before our utterly pointless class in the afternoon. We got breakfast and coffee at Apostrophe, a hip and modern café/bar/patisserie on Baker Street. The coffee was surprisingly good, but not the best we’ve had. The museum was the star of the morning, though. We both love Sherlock Holmes, but we wanted to visit the museum as much for our dads as for ourselves. It was super cool and tons of fun, and if you’re a Holmes fan I’d say it’s something you need to put on your bucket list.

Getting dolled up at the vintage fair!

So there you have it boys and girls! I whirlwind weekend and start to the week. I have a feeling my days are going to start getting busy as my time in London comes to a close…there’s so much I still want to do before I leave! I’m starting to plan a long weekend to Scotland and I’m hoping everything will come together.

We’re coming up to Thanksgiving, and though it isn’t celebrated on this side of the pond, I have so much to be thankful for this year. Let me encourage you to step back from your life and really examine all the blessings God has placed in your life, whether its people or experiences or His abiding presence. When difficulties come our way, we often lose focus of those blessings because they seem so small compared to our struggles. But maybe it will help to remember that while struggles often come from the world or Satan…each and every one of our blessings come from the Lord, and nothing comes upon us without having first gone through His hands. There are parts of our lives and of ourselves that the enemy can’t touch, but those things do not bind God! He is everywhere and His hand is in every part of our lives…what peace and joy that should give us! So remember that as Thanksgiving comes closer and the Christmas season follows it…this isn’t a season during which we should ‘remember’ God. It’s a season during which we should press on in our journey with Him to make better our ability to see His hand in every moment of every day.

The Sherlock Holmes Museum

Red Alert: It's Time to Rant

Okay, let’s get down to brass tacks. This is my blog, so I’m invoking my right to rant about whatever I want. The fact that I made up that right twenty seconds ago is completely irrelevant and should have no impact on your judgment of the impending rant.

First. Boys, it’s time to step up and become men. There is something wrong with the world when, on a crowded tube car, the seats are filled with men (I use the term as a clarifying term, not a true identifier) while women are standing around. Give it up, guys. Seriously, get out of your seat. You can be shocked at my lack of feminist principles, because here’s my perspective: feminism is all about a woman’s right to have choices, and a say in how she lives her life. Here’s my choice: to think that any guy that stays in his seat while there is a lady without one (excluding those that are injured and/or are elderly) is seriously lacking in the man-mojo department. You wanna know why your sister, girlfriend and crazy Aunt Tina love Edward Cullen? BECAUSE HE WOULD GIVE UP HIS SEAT ON THE TUBE FOR THEM. Read, study, apply.

First (continued). At what point, exactly, did the world of dating/crushes/flirtation become the kind of guessing game that would give ‘Clue’ a run for its money? Is there a reason being upfront about your feelings and intentions went out of style? I understand the concept of ‘game playing’. But let me clarify something here: understand the differences in men and women’s natures and behaving in such a way as to acknowledge those differences is not the same thing as game playing for the sake of playing games. Ça va? Therefore: girls, don’t string guys along you aren’t interested in. Guys, don't put in the minimum amount of effort because you want to leave your ‘options’ open. If that’s the way you’re behaving I think we all realize you don’t actually have ‘options’. Be honest people. Love is a gift, why are we always so hesitant to give it to others? Be true to yourself, be respectful of the other person, live in the moment, not the future or the past. Read, study, apply.

Second. I am all for living in a Disney-movie-world as long as one possibly can (i.e. forever). I still see animated movies with my dad whenever they come out. I have random dance parties and laugh at stupid stuff. All of that being said, there is a point when you have to start to grow up. I don’t mean this in a ‘become a stuffy business-minded adult who acts like something is shoved up their rear’ way. I mean it in a ‘don’t talk while your professor is talking, don’t have your cell phone out in class/at work, don’t use cuss words every four words when you’re speaking, don’t dress like you’re still 16 (you aren’t), don’t expect things to be handed to you on a silver platter after you’ve done absolutely nothing to deserve them’ kind of way. Growing up doesn’t mean growing old, it just means you learn what behaviors are better left behind. Read, study, apply.

So there you have it folks. I already feel better having put my frustrations out into the universe. And, honestly, it wasn’t just so I could complain (although that’s mostly it). We grab any opportunity we can to complain about all the things other people are doing wrong, but we rarely take any time to examine our own behavior. So here’s some humble pie to go along with that snark-fest: I always wait to see if someone else is going to get up first to give their seat to the elderly person who just got on the tube. What is that about? Note to self: don’t be lazy, be a leader. WWJD…wear the bracelet if you have to. I’m probably just as guilty of being ambiguous when it comes to dating/crushes/flirting as any other person. I prefer to wait while the other person takes the risk so that I don’t have to chance getting hurt. Note to self: go big or go home. There’s the moral, folks: a critical eye is truly helpful only when you’re willing to turn it on yourself.

My frustrated face.

Mom and a Masquerade

Good gravy it has been way too long since I’ve posted. So much has happened! And I intend to write about all of it, boys and girls, so strap on your seatbelts and get ready for the ride.

Well, I obviously survived my week from hell at school. Papers were written, exams were taken, presentations were given…thank the Lord it’s all over. Now I’m only taking one class, working at my internship (more on that later) and have a short seminar-type course once a week. On the whole it is considerably less stressful.

After surviving said week from hell, I planned on spending the weekend relaxing before Mom got into town on Monday. Things didn’t go as planned. After a lovely Saturday morning spent writing, I received word that my pastor, Kim Hall, from back home had died. This was the man who had dedicated me to the church as an infant, who had taken the time to shake my hand every Sunday, who gave me advice and support whenever I asked. It broke my heart to know he won’t be there when I return home. It was the hardest I’ve cried in a long time. At this point I try not to think about it too much. I know I’ll have to deal with it when I get home, and that I’ve largely ignored it and my feelings about it, but I can’t bring myself to do anything differently right now.

God had this all in mind in His perfect timing. Two days after I received the news my mom came to London and I had a shoulder to cry on as well as someone to hug. The past six months have made me so incredibly appreciative of my parents. They support and love me with such strength I can hardly believe it sometimes. When I present them with what some might consider outlandish dreams, they begin to dream right along with me. All of those thoughts rushed into my head when I saw my mom standing in front of me in the airport. Finally, someone from home that I could show this wonderful city to!

Mom and I

We spent the first three days in Oxford and it was absolutely lovely. We saw the beautiful buildings and the botanical gardens, went in the shops and ate in pubs. Best of all, though, were the times we laid around doing nothing, watching horrible British television (seriously, it’s bad) and eating fast food.

Mom next to a huge tree!

We spent the remainder of her time here in London, seeing as much as possible and drinking as much coffee as we could. She got to see where I work, my favorites spots for food and coffee (of course), Hampstead Heath and all of the typical tourist sites. I think what we both enjoyed the most, though, was that we got to see all of those things together. We got to laugh and talk and not worry about Internet connections or limited minutes on a cell phone. In short, I love my mother.

Mom and Parliament!

Alas, Mama could not stay forever and I found myself alone in London once again (not really alone, but you know what I mean). I was sad to see her go and began to miss her immediately after leaving the airport, but it was comforting to know that I’d be seeing her again in just seven weeks (six now). And besides, I didn’t have much time to stay upset…I had a masquerade ball to go to!

Almost everyone from Baylor went to said ball after getting all dolled up in our best dresses and masks. While it was fun, it was nothing to write home about (haha!), although I’m glad I can finally say I’ve been to a masquerade!

Ice Cream at Harrods ;)

On Wednesday I started my internship at the Museum of the Order of Saint John. I’ve only been working there three days and I’ve absolutely fallen in love with the museum. The history surrounding both the Order and the buildings the museum is housed in is incredibly fascinating. The people I get to work with are kind and funny, and the work I’m doing, because it’s such a small museum, has real meaning. I love it so far and can’t wait to see what else the next six weeks bring!

Hampstead Heath

Last night was Guy Fawkes Night, a celebration whose history I adore. All the Baylor clan headed out to Battersea Park to watch the lighting of the bonfire and (supposedly) the best fireworks show in London. It was pretty spectacular, I must say. Afterwards a few of the girls headed back to our place, where we ate Chinese food and Belgian waffles while watching ‘V for Vendetta’ (my favorite movie, by the way). It was a food night, but my feet are seriously killing me, especially after spending all day yesterday at a marvelous Christmas fair with Brittany. I got a hot sock shaped like a daschund, a mug with a sweater-cozy that says ‘Hug Me’ and an uber comfortable pajama shirt. Win.

Getting ready for the masquerade!

Life is good, friends. It’s a little staggering to think of where I was a year ago and realize where I am today, both geographically and personally. God is good and has seen me through good times and bad to lead me to places more wondrous than I could ever have dreamed for myself. There are still hard moments along the way, but I think they’re more easily dealt with now than they once were. I’ve got six weeks left in London, and I intend on living them to the fullest. This year is almost finished, and it has been quite an amazing one….but I think it’s still got a few tricks up its sleeve.

Footloose and Fancy Free

I should be working on a paper right now, in case you’re wondering. I have a ton of work to do this week…multiple papers, presentations and exams. And yet, I’m sitting in a great coffee shop, drinking warm coffee whilst the temperature drops outside, and I am quickly losing the motivation to be productive. And so I am instead catching up on blogging. A completely legitimate enterprise in my opinion. That, and I have to pee and this is a much better distraction than examining the changes experienced by the British monarchy. 

This past week was pretty low-key; class, studying, reading, writing…rinse, repeat. There are some new developments, though. I’m writing again! Alright, I know what you’re thinking. “Sarah, I’m sitting here reading a blog you wrote. Isn’t the fact that you’re ‘writing again’ kind of implied?” Well smarty-pants, that isn’t the kind of writing I’m talking about. I’m writing a story again.

I took a creative writing class my freshman year, and I absolutely loved it. It was challenging and rewarding and produced some of the writing I’m most proud of. Since then, though, any creative writing I’ve done has come in fits and spurts, most of them decidedly uninspired. This time is different, though. I’ve already written more in the past week than I have in the past year. It’s a story I love, characters I’m fascinated by, questions I don’t actually know the answers to…it’s the writing experience I’ve always wanted. Even when I don’t have anything in mind, I’ll sit and wait until something comes, or I’ll just start writing until it turns into something somewhat usable.

If you’re thinking this is the part where I tell you what the story is…you’re out of luck. I’ve probably already jinxed myself be talking about how great the writing process is going, I’m not gonna push my luck by giving away the plot. I’ll tell you this much, though: it’s a fantasy story, one I hope will turn into a novel. The story focuses on an unlikely heroine (original, I know). That’s all you’re getting. Honestly, some of the secrecy comes from the fact that even I don’t know all of the plot details yet. I have no idea where the story is gonna go, what the main conflict is going to be, how it will be resolved, what characters will come or go. I have some idea, obviously, but it’s growing so organically that I hate to ruin it with some sort of systematic outline.

The only downside to this wave of inspiration is that, paired with my intense workload for school, I’ve had almost no time for either of my blogs. Luckily not much has happened since I returned from Wales, so it isn’t as if there’s oodles of stories I’ve failed to document. Friday was the first day I really did anything of note.

Brittany, Rosy and I went to dinner and then to see Footloose. I’ve been waiting to see this movie ever since I first saw the trailer at the beginning of summer. AT THE BEGINNING OF SUMMER. It didn’t disappoint. It was set firmly in the present, but it still had some of that nostalgic 80’s-teen-flick charm. The dancing was fantastic (duh) and there were so many great lines I laughed like a little kid through the whole thing. It did make me miss home, though. Seeing the shots of fields full of horses and corn, the honky-tonk dance scene, hearing thick southern accents and phrases no one other than a native southerner would understand…it was both comforting and slightly painful. It was all alright, though, because after the movie ended and everyone had left the theatre the three of us silently agreed that the only logical course of action was to dance around the theatre like maniacs until we were completely out of breath. It was wonderful.

Now it’s Sunday, my last week of classes starts, and in 8 days my mom will be here in London with me. This week will be stressful and I’ll probably find myself suffering from severe lack of sleep, but I’m okay with it. Life is good and God is faithful. It can rain on my parade all it wants, cause I’ve got an umbrella.

Too much coffee. 

P.S. I apologize if this post seemed manic or didn’t make much sense…I’m hyped up on coffee and I really really really have to pee.

Tales from Wales and Other Thoughts

I’m back in the kitchen at my flat in London, drinking a cup of coffee made with my new aeropress (it’s pretty darn good). I refuse to think of this place as the dorm it actually is; maybe if I keep referring to it as a flat it will magically turn into one. Brittany and I returned from Wales last night, somewhat sad at having left behind our Welsh paradise and somewhat relieved to be back in our neighborhood.

Excited to finally be on our way!

The train ride from London to Aberystwyth, Wales was beautiful and relaxing. I stuck my in my earbuds, turned on my favorite music and soaked in all of the natural beauty flying past. We arrived in Aberystwyth at eight that night, starving, tired and so happy to be there. Our B&B, Bodalwyn House, was lovely and its owners kind and friendly. Our room was warm and cozy, the beds were marvelously comfortable, and there was a bathtub long enough for me to completely stretch out in. In short, we were in heaven.

Our lovely room. 

We ate dinner at a place in town called Little Italy (we were both craving Italian food). Keeping in mind we were in west Wales, I don’t think either of us was expecting much above Olive Garden level food. We were so wrong. We had to wait an hour to get a table (always a good sign), but we just took the opportunity to take a walk around town. Aberystwyth is actually a college town on the Welsh west coast, small and quaint with a faint undercurrent of teenage rebellion.

Little Italy...amazing food! 

Back at Little Italy, the owner was generous and talkative. We both ordered glasses of Pim’s and he brought us a pitcher instead…I think it’s things like that that set smaller towns apart. The food was to die for, seriously some of the best Italian food I’ve ever had. It tasted fresh and rich without being to heavy, and there was more flavor in that meal than I’ve had in my entire stay in London so far. We left absolutely stuffed and appropriately chastened for thinking good Italian food couldn’t be found in Wales.

We woke up Saturday morning to the smell of delicious breakfast filling our room. Apparently our room was located just above the kitchen, and that smell was what propelled me out of bed. We dressed in a hurry, packing for our day of hiking, and went down to see if breakfast would taste as good as it smelled. It did. Nothing fancy…orange juice, toast, cereal, eggs, bacon, coffee (French pressed coffee to boot), it was all lovingly prepared and served by the owners.

We took the Vale of Rheidol Railway from Aberystwyth to Devil’s Bridge, a steam train that takes passengers through the Rheidol Valley in mid-Wales. The scenery was absolutely stunning, covered in misty fog though it was. Devil’s Bridge is an area with waterfalls and slightly precarious hiking trails. The danger is absolutely worth it, though, and we had a great time slipping and sliding our way up and down the hills. The falls were gorgeous, and I honestly didn’t mind the rain. It made everything smell green and earthy, and the colors seemed all the brighter because of the water.

We ate lunch in a hotel bar/pub at the top of the hill…best decision EVER. We decided on it when we heard several men singing traditional Welsh songs as we passed by. How are you supposed to pass that up? The food wasn’t half bad, but it was the people that made it an experience to remember. After learning we were American we had multiple Welshmen teaching us Welsh phrases (some naughty), singing us songs, asking us how we liked Wales, filling us in on the latest rugby news and helping us have a generally good time. Brittany found herself being serenaded as we tried to leave, and neither of us got out the door without several kisses on our cheeks and hands. Needless to say, it was a wonderful afternoon.

Our wonderful Welshmen :) 

We got Chinese food for dinner and rented season one of Gossip Girl…sometimes all you need is some warm food, television drama and good company to make a good evening. We slept in a little later on Sunday, had another delicious breakfast and set out to explore Aberystwyth a bit more before we left to return to London.

We walked along the beach, saw ancient castle ruins, took an electric rail to the top of Constitution Hill to see miles of Welsh landscape…it was the perfect way to end the trip. We had lunch at Little Italy (seriously, it was that good) and were again charmed by the owner and his generosity.

It was a wonderful weekend, and came at the perfect time. It’s nice to be back in London, back in the place I think of as a kind of ‘home’ now, even if it doesn’t have a working bathtub and the bed isn’t nearly as comfortable. It feels a bit as if my heart is split in two, lately. Not in the broken way, but in the growing kind of way.  I’ve learned to love where I am, both geographically and in the grander scheme of my life’s journey…but that doesn’t mean I don’t anticipate the future, or even long for the past sometimes.

Aberystwyth, from the top of Constitution Hill. 

I think it’s all part of growing up. You become increasingly aware of how your past has shaped you, for better or worse, and it makes you hold tight to the present, knowing it will eventually define you in some way. You look forward to the future while acknowledging you have absolutely no idea what it will bring you, because you never imagined yourself where you are now. Basically, you learn you don’t know everything.

Partners in crime (and hiking).  

Past, present, future…they’re all there, vying for our attention. Maybe the key to happiness is acknowledging the past, accepting the present, and anticipating the future. Change is good, but don’t try and change yourself…time will do that for you.

See ya later Wales...