Finding forgiveness in faith

I have read the Gospel of Luke countless times in my life, but tonight I noticed something that I had never really taken note of before: after Jesus tells the disciples that they are to forgive without limit, they automatically ask not how to accomplish such a feat of forgiveness, but rather how to increase their faith.

Perhaps the realization is slow in coming for me, but it amazes me how intrinsically related faith and forgiveness really are. One cannot forgive without faith. But one must have the right kind of faith: a faith in God. For if we forgive in faith of our human selves or counterparts, we shall surely be disappointed.

As humans, we do not have the capacity for perfection. Nor do we have the ability to forgive if we are trusting in ourselves or others to enact that forgiveness.

It's so simple, yet so wonderful! We "forgive as the Lord forgave you," and the forgiveness of God is based in God's greatness, not in our capacity to act upon it! So why do we as humans feel like when we forgive others that they are then responsible for maintaining that forgiveness?

I am such a foolish girl for ever thinking that anything in my life is rooted in this world. When I gave my life to God, He took everything. But sometimes He lets me feel like I still have control of some things, just so that when I realize He's had it all along, I can simply let go and rejoice in the awesomeness of my God.

I feel like I am now living in the freedom of forgiveness because I truly understand that when I forgive someone, it's not my forgiveness at all that I bestow. My forgiveness means nothing; it is human and will pass away like a vapor in the wind. But my Father's forgiveness is powerful enough to heal all wounds, and that's the forgiveness that I lean upon today.

I've always heard that forgiveness is such a powerful thing; now I truly believe it.

The summer of complacent discontent

Yesterday marked the official end of my summer break: I packed all my things and moved back to Lee's campus to begin the travail of the fall semester.

As I step into the current of a new academic year, I can't help but look back and reflect on a summer that, though nothing like I had planned when I left campus in May, has been a true life-changing, learning and growing experience.

This summer, I rediscovered my roots. I spent time with family, reaffirmed the bonds of old friendships, discovered the true beauty of my microcosmic world, rediscovered my artistic side and even dabbled a bit in country music.

Most importantly, I learned that God really does have to be the center of absolutely everything in our lives. He is the Potter, we are the clay. We have to be in the center of His wheel or risk being flung off, bruised, torn, messed up. But praise be to Him who always picks us up, brushes us off and sets us back on the wheel so that He can compassionately mold us into the people He wants us to be!

So if this summer has been so great, why the epithet of "complacent discontent"?

Simply because there was so much else I wanted to do. I spent most of my summer longing to be elsewhere. To make a trip. To have an adventure. To show the world what I'm made of.

Instead, I settled into the seemingly monotonous Franklin County life that I have known for 20 years now. But hindsight is 20/20.

I didn't travel outside the state of Tennessee, but I discovered magical places practically in my backyard!

I didn't have an awesome internship, but I learned about helping people you've never seen and will most likely never see again.

I didn't go on a mission trip, but I reached out to the children of my church. And they reached back to me. I don't know who got the better end of that deal because they blessed me so much this summer.

I didn't introduce myself to the world, but the world began to introduce itself to me.

If anything this summer has taught me three things:

1. Sometime the responsible thing to do may not be fun, but you will always reap the benefits of obedience.

2. A good root system will help you weather any storm.

3. I don't have to go looking for adventure; God will supply my every need and use me to supply the needs of others no matter where I go. He has me exactly where He wants me, and that's where I always want to be. Sure, the physical location may change, but no matter where I am, I know that God is there guiding my way.

Even though I feel that my calling will lead me far from the home I love, it will always be home. And I was so blessed to spend my summer-my entire summer-in such a wonderful place.

So it's with a heart full of love that I look back on summer 2009, my summer of complacent discontent, and bid it a fond farewell.

There were hard times and tears, but there were also many wonderful times and laughter.

I can't spend my time wondering what would have happened if... I now have the task of taking what happened and applying the lessons learned to the future. And let me tell you, "It's gonna be a brighter day!"

You know you're a Walgreens employee if...

I know that I have worked a lot of hours when my cheerful greeting to customers is reciprocated by some variation of "Oh hey, it's you again!"

Tonight I worked the closing shift at Walgreens for the eight, yes eighth, night in a row. I've spent a lot of time there in the past week!

This impressive streak of hours has afforded me the title of official Walgreens connoisseur: I know about sales (past, present and some future!), have organized the merchandise (especially the back-to-school section), and have answered the Walgreens phone probably more times than my own home phone.

But one thing I feel that I have become a complete specialist in is the Walgreens radio station. Let's face it, I've listened to it more than some people have listened to their own mothers (sad as that is).

And I can tell you, they play all the good music during the day. Songs like "City of Blinding Lights" by U2, MercyMe's "So Long Self," even "No Air" by Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown.

Around 4:00 p.m., there's a complete shift in music: it's like a blast from the past. Normally, I like oldies (or am at least tolerant of them), but after hearing some of them for eight days in a row, I never want to hear them again.

So here it is: the top ten songs I would rather never hear again.


10. "What a Wonderful World" - The Ramones
Not that I mind remakes: Muse covered "Feeling Good," Louis Armstrong remade "La Vie en Rose," and I loved them. They took classics and made them even classier. This just doesn't do it for me.

9. "Can't Get It Out of My Head" - Electric Light Orchestra
The title and my reason for not wanting to hear it are one and the same.

8. "My Sharona" - The Knack
I actually used to like this song. But too much of a good thing is bad, very bad.

7. "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" - The Animals
I really don't have a clear reason for my disdain. This song and I just don't get along. I think it's the vocals, but I can't say for sure.

6. "A Horse With No Name" - America
I know the lyrics have potential to have awesome meaning, but I can't get past the annoying tune to dig that deeply.

5. "The Break-up Song (They Don't Write 'Em)" - The Greg Kihn Band
Is this really necessary? I mean really. To mutate the song to my liking, "Nuh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh." Translation: Big no.

4. "Born in the USA" - Bruce Springsteen
At the risk of being sacrilegious, this one made the list. I'm just so tired of it!

3. "Tall Cool One" - Robert Plant
This song basically repeats, "Lighten up, baby, I'm in love with you!" over and over again. Well-written love songs with a good beat or rhythm, I love. This one should be banned from airwaves just for the sheer redundancy.

2. "Pulling Mussels (From the Shell)" - Squeeze
Did this topic really deserve a song?

1. "Cat in the Cradle" - Harry Chapin
Maybe it's the vocal twang, maybe it's the lyrics. But I just really have a loathing for this song now.

I may not achieve my goal of never hearing these songs again, but I know one thing for sure: I won't be hearing them for at least the next three days! Oh, sweet freedom!

Thank you for shopping at Walgreens! Buh-bye, buh-bye now!

My kids...

No, I'm not a mother. No, I don't have any younger siblings that I constantly care for. But, yes, I have kids. My kids are the kids in the Tullahoma First Kids Choir, and they are all such precious children.

Today they performed in "big church" for all the adults. They were all so excited, and they were all so good! They made me so proud, I almost cried.

As I've written before, each one has a unique story. You may remember reading about Ashley and her brother. (Her brother is still quite the handful, but aside from a few small tantrums now and then, Ashley has greatly improved!) Well, I'd like to tell you another story from my family of munchkins.

Michael* (*name changed) has had a rough summer. He is one of the bus kids that the church picks up for service because the parents don't come. Earlier in the summer, Michael lost his grandfather, the man who had taken care of him since he was a very small child. He is now living with his mom, and things aren't going as well as they could be. He has many problems, poor thing, some of which a child should not have to deal with.

Today, Michael had a solo part in one of the songs. When his mom dropped him off at the church early, she promised she'd be back to hear him.

As the kids were lining up, one of the adults asked, "Is your mom here?"

"I don't know."

"Is she coming back to hear you?"

A shrug of the shoulders is all she got in reply.

"Well, is she coming to take you home?"

Again, no definite answer.

"Well, if she doesn't come, we'll be sure that you get home."

Michael and the others headed out on stage. No mom. I have never seen a child go from lighthearted to brokenhearted so fast. He'd never show it; he's a "tough guy." But you could tell that it hurt him that his mom never came.

It's for kids like Michael that I keep working with children. In spite of the hard work, long hours, exasperating tantrums and seemingly endless list of complicated situations that come with it, it's worth it. If I can make one child feel loved, even if it's just once a week, then it's worth it.

And I have faith that Michael and every single one of my children can and will grow up to be beautiful sons and daughters of God, no matter their situations now, no matter how hard a hand life seems to have dealt them.

So, if you think about it, say a little prayer for my kids now and then, will you? For all the children growing up in this world today, I say a prayer.

Happy Independence Day!

I celebrated July 4th by hanging around the house all day then spent a thrilling night at a fairly customer-forsaken Walgreens. We were bored out of our minds. Never have I wished the clock to move faster.

While I was standing there passing the time, I came up with nothing profound (I bet you thought I was going to awe you with some amazing thought, but no...Walgreens just doesn't inspire me). The only think I could think was how tired I was of working weekends. Every. Single. Weekend.

That thought was still in my mind when I got home, so I decided to see what I could learn from it. (I'm a psych major, after all!) The train of thought went something like this: "I hate working weekends. But that's what this job is: nights, weekends and holidays. So this job really stinks. So I need to get a better job. Which means I need to stay in school."

So that's it: I'm staying in school so that I can get a job that I actually like having and don't regret taking.

Then I started thinking, "Why do I hate working weekends so much?"

Simple answer: Because my work schedule is keeping me away from those I love and miss.

As stated earlier, I work nights, weekends and holidays. When I work multiple days in a row, sometimes I can go two to three days without seeing my parents. And I've been keeping up with my sister more via Twitter than by actual conversation.

This schedule has also hindered my getting to hang out with friends, especially those who live any distance away. Some of them I'll see when I go back to school in a month. Others, I'll have to be content with phone calls and instant messaging for long periods of time because school will replace work (and I might continue to work during the school year), and I'll still be in the same predicament. And that's enough to make me want to cry.

So, in light of all this, I now have three, firmly established life goals: to bless God in all that I say and do, to do what I love and love what I do, and to keep those I love close to me (emotionally and spiritually if physically isn't an option) because the pain of separation has created such a hole.

Since the first one prohibits my complaining about the latter two, I will end this little note by being "joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer" (Rom. 12:12). I thank God that I have a job, I rejoice in the coming relief (school), I ask God to keep my loved ones safely in His arms until I can see them again, and I pray for the endurance to attain my goals.

But, as Miley Cyrus says, "It ain't about how fast I get there. Ain't about what's waiting on the other side. It's the climb."

May God bless each of you in your individual climbs.

Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work we go...

Last summer, I did something awesome: volunteered at a local dinner theater with a bunch of my friends. I was in two shows, worked tech for one show, waited tables for tips and had an awesome time. I also was flat broke by the end of the summer.

So, this summer I decided to try something different, something completely new for me! I got a "real job." On June 12, I officially became a Walgreens service clerk. I have learned a lot in the past three weeks, and I would like to share a few little nuggets of this wisdom.

1. Every day has the potential to be "one of those days."
I never really understood what "one of those days" meant until I started working. Then I realized that EVERY DAY is just "one of those days." It's that phrase you say when you really don't want to talk about it, not necessarily because the day was bad, but because either too much or too little happened to really be worth the effort of telling someone. In my case, it's normally too little.

2. Creativity is a must.
When it's 8:30 and the store is completely empty, you've refolded every t-shirt in sight and your OCD tendencies are completely satisfied, it's an awesome feeling. Until you realize that you're stuck there until 10 anyways. This requires some creativity because if you don't find something to do, you will go crazy. I personally like straightening the Hallmark aisle; I get so many good ideas in that aisle. I also convert the time remaining in my shift to seconds (it takes longer because I do it in my head). If you have any other suggestions, I'm always looking for new ones!

3. Get used to being asked how old you are.
I've been asked twice. Once because the lady wanted to set me up with a guy she knew (he was 17; it would have never worked). Once because someone couldn't believe that I actually knew who Farrah Fawcett was. I'm sure it will happen plenty more.

4. One never really gets used to selling tobacco.
This is probably the worst part of my job. I hate tobacco. I can't even really stand the smell of it, which is bad since my register is right in front of the cigarette display (I chew Orbit Crystal Mint gum. The mint flavor is so strong, it dulls my sense of smell and helps me better tolerate it). And furthermore, I know nothing about cigarettes, pipe tobacco, chewing tobacco, or any of the accompanying paraphernelia. It's almost like a game trying to find the certain brand of cigarette that the customer wants.
But it's really sad, too. One lady came in today and bought cough drops with her soft pack. When I have asked customers to help me find a product because I don't know what it looks like or where it is, many tell me how good it is that I'm not a smoker. Some even sound regretful that they use tobacco. I told my mother about the first time I sold a pack of cigarettes, and she gave me some wise advice: pray for them. So now, I pray over those cigarettes sitting behind me. I feel like maybe I've sold less since starting that tradition.

5. Optimism is a wonderful gift.
I don't think I could work at this job if I were a pessimist. I make too many mistakes and see too many hurting people (it is a pharmacy, after all). I've had quite a few people come through my line who came by on the way home from the emergency room or hospital. I've heard some sad stories, just in the past few weeks. But the only thing I can do is smile and encourage them that things will get better. Sometimes I feel like just listening to them helps. So I'll keep on smiling and telling people to "have a good evening!" as they walk out the door. I may never know it, but I pray that simple act of kindness helps someone somehow.

I've learned a lot from having a real job. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's quite serious. And though I hope that running a cash register is not my future career, I know that I'll carry these lessons throughout my life.

And, yeah, having a job has greatly put a dent in my "summer fun" from time to time, but I don't really regret my decision. But, I'd better stop writing now and get some sleep; gotta go to work in the morning!

Learning to love

I've had the absolute honor this summer to work with my church's kids this summer during Wednesday night Kids Choir. They come from all different backgrounds: some grew up in the church, some started coming on the bus program that we recently initiated, and some just wandered into our doors. Some are a bit too hyper for their own good, others barely utter a word. All of them are special, and all of them have their own stories.

But sometimes, I admit, I'm too quick to judge those that walk through our doors each week. I had always been taught not to judge, and I thought I was a fairly impartial, "love everyone" kind of girl. Sure, some of the kids grated on my nerves from time to time, but I still could look past that and find something lovable in each!

Then I met 4-year-old Ashley* and her younger brother Todd. They started coming to Kids' Choir a few weeks before I arrived home from school. They were inseparable, and they were out of control. The director couldn't deal with just those two; she had 14 other kids who needed to learn songs and dances. And she expected me to be right next to her helping with the motions. My sister, who also volunteers with the kids, was running sound. So the only person left to deal with Ashley and Todd was an older lady volunteer whose disciplinary method was yelling and threats. And that wasn't working either.

I thought I had met my match, that there was no way to connect to these two children, that they were incapable of joining the group and behaving. But God had a thing or two to teach me.

One week, the director announced that she would be out of town that next week. As Wednesday night approached, the other volunteer had to schedule an emergency trip to Nashville that would require her to miss church. So guess who was left to run Kids' Choir? Yes, that's right: my sister and me.

Things were already hectic: getting everything together for snack time, finding the music and the words, making sure the sound system was actually working. Then the kids came tumbling in. The last two through the door (and I had to go outside and make them come in) were Ashley and Todd. Within the first 5 minutes, I knew that night had potential to go very badly if we couldn't figure out some way to keep them at least minutely under control.

Thankfully, we had enlisted the help of someone who knew how to handle some pretty unmanageable children: my mother. She made it her task to watch Ashley and Todd so that I could teach the other 11 children.

At first, they were wild as ever. Ashley spent an elongated amount of time in the bathroom when she first came in, and when she finally did come out, it looked like she'd been playing in the water. She treated Todd like her baby, not letting him leave her side and insisting on picking him up, even though she is not much bigger than he is. It was very distracting for the other kids and for me. I found myself getting more and more irritated with them. Even my mother, God bless her, couldn't put a dent in their behavior.

But about halfway through the night, two things happened. First, some of the older kids started talking to Ashley about how she should be a good example for her brother. Because it came from the other kids, she started listening a little. Secondly, my mother persuaded them to separate. At the time, I had no idea how she did it, but it worked! Ashley started learning the dance and singing with the big kids (who immediately just took her under their wing). And my mother watched and played with Todd. He still didn't participate, but he at least stayed out of trouble.

It wasn't until we were on our way home that the whole story unfolded. Mom had pulled Ashley aside and talked to her, and Ashley told her a little bit of what went on at home: how she (almost 5 years old, mind you) cleaned her room and the bathroom, how Todd followed her everywhere she went, and how she was really exasperated by having to watch him all the time but he was her responsibility. Remember her long stay in the bathroom? She was cleaning. Suddenly, her constant references to herself as his momma made sense. This little girl didn't have the chance to really be a little girl!

Then I found out what my mother had done to make such a difference: she had explained to Ashley that when she was at Kids' Choir, she didn't have to watch her brother. She could just be a kid. So Mom took over watching Todd, and Ashley got to be a little girl.

I felt really ashamed of myself that night. I had not even taken the time to learn about Ashley and Todd's story. I had just assumed that someone else already knew and had taken that into consideration. Suddenly, being upset with that little girl seemed like such a foolish idea.

Ashley and Todd haven't been back to Kids' Choir yet, but I hope to see them next week. And my mother has already volunteered to watch Todd so that his sister doesn't have to worry about a thing.

I learned a valuable lesson that night. Everyone deserves to see the love of God in our lives, no matter how we see them through our eyes. God loves each and every person in spite of how they act or what they've been through. The least I can do is try to show the same love. Yes, the kids will still annoy me sometimes, and sure, I'll have to be the authority figure, but I can try to better understand why they do something instead of always just telling them to fix it on their own.

Thank you, Lord, for loving me, and for teaching me to love those that You love. Amen.

*All names have been changed.