Tangible Time

My last semester in grad school, I was able to do an independent study with two of my good friends and a lady who we referred to as “the goddess of Autism.” She was an expert, to put it plainly, and knew more than we could wrap our minuscule minds around. She had researched, published, done therapy with, and invested in thousands upon thousands of children with Autism, and is now writing curriculum on how to start a preschool classroom to foster their language development. There is a lot of time and analysis that goes into this, because since children with Autism struggle to learn language and use it to communicate, you must make sure that the words that you introduce to them are both functional to use and simple to learn. My friends and I, therefore, spent weeks analyzing her words. I’m sure you’re yawning at the thought of this, but we were completely captivated. We loved counting, categorizing, and graphing the word types and numbers. It was gripping, and we were hooked. One day, while talking with Dr. Rollins about our analysis, we got to talking about words to begin and end an activity, which we noted as “time words.” Dr. Rollins told us that the time words were difficult to explain because time is arbitrary, as are words, and those words are our attempt to make time into something tangible, to place restrictions on it so that we could understand, explain and use it.

It’s literally taken me months to wrap my brain around this concept. This concept of time that so governs my life isn’t even something that I could put my index finger on, yet I feel the need to create boundaries to it. We live and die by planners, schedules, bedtimes and alarms to wake us up. We do everything in our power to know where it goes, and make sure it is going to the right things, places, people and events. I’ve been known to think of my day like a pie graph and try to a lot every hour to something. At the end of every month (it is February 26, technically 27 because it is the middle of the night), I think to myself, “Goodness gracious, where as the month gone? How is it almost over.” We seek to hold on as it slips away, yet wish for it to pass more swiftly. We want to control it. I yearn to control it.

I have learned that God and time have a fascinating relationship. They are similar in that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they both exist. I cannot see either of them, but I can see results of them both. I witness miracles, glory and the restoration of God; I witness time’s effect on people. I cannot control God, and I cannot control time. But luckily, He can control time and my life. Things run more smoothly when He controls them. He was intended to control both. And He does.

Throughout the past 6 months, but more specifically in 2011, God has continued to build my faith and reveal his sovereignty and flawless timing to me. I have felt like a Stretch Armstrong action figure at times, as he has no doubt stretched me, making me wonder (being completely transparent in this confession) if He did, in fact, know what He was doing. But he has arranged events, like a composer orchestrates the parts of each and every instrument of a symphony, into something breathtakingly beautiful. To remind me He was, and is, there and in control, He placed various events and people into my life, like a lovely flute trill or trombone fall in an orchestra, to remind me of his presence and care. During my most difficult and trying hours, His presence was so evident that it left me in awe, listening and wanting more. He lead me to realize that my attempts to make time, and more importantly His time, neat and packaged into a box, took away from it’s beauty, it’s perfection, and it’s inherent characteristics. And ultimately took away from His purpose and glory, which is really the point of it all.

He has taught me that His timing is perfect and control is unwavering. Even though I can’t always see it through the haze, that he is continually working (which is a subject for another blog). I find peace in that. Basking in His peace, anxiously awaiting His next move, His next stretch of my faith, and His next revelation of His divinity to me.

Celebrate Me Home

Confession: Kenny Loggins will always have a special place in my heart. Odd, I know. "Footloose" has never failed to make me smile, and hearing "Danger Zone" brings back fond memories of watching "Top Gun" with my fourth grade best friends and discussing how cute Tom Cruise was, even though it was made before we were born and Tom could practically have been our dad. The real reason Kenny tugs at my heart came a little later in my life. It was the scorching summer of 2005, and my life was on the brink of change. Major change. I had graduated from high school, and was about to embark on a wonderful journey to Waco to begin college. I was stuck in that odd in between place that most high school graduates find themselves in between graduation and moving away from home… realizing that you are fitting in less and less with high school friends, but not knowing who else my age to spend time with.

That summer I spent most evenings with my mom. We had been (and still are) very close, but grew even closer that summer. Many nights, we sat at starbucks sipping on grande java chip frappacino lights double blended and contemplating the change I was about to go through. While cleaning out her car one afternoon, mom discovered "Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow," Kenny Loggins' greatest hits CD, and quite a fitting title for the time in my life. We put it in the CD player in June and didn't take it out. Every song reminded us of something. I remember listening to "Forever" and silently sobbing one evening, wondering if life would ever feel normal again.

My all-time favorite Kenny Loggins song would have to be "Celebrate Me Home." Something about it comforts me, like home. Throughout college, I would coincidentally hear it as I crossed the bridge between I-35 to I-20, which always signified to me that I was home. This Thanksgiving, I had just said my good-byes to my family, packed my last bag into my car, and slammed the door shut on the Liberty, when the song came on the radio. Overcome with emotion due to the fact that I was leaving, I teared up and immediately called my mom. I shared the ironic event I'd just experienced, and hurried back to Plano. But a strange thing happened…as I frantically sped down Midway, not a mile from my apartment, the exact song that had so reminded me of Arlington not an hour before came on again. Chills crept up my spine, and I realized that this felt like more than a coincidence.

Arlington will always hold a special place in my heart. I grew up there. I learned some of my greatest life lessons there. I even discovered Kenny Loggins there. But it's not where feels like home in the present. Now, Plano feels like home. It feels comfortable, but still as if it is evolving to encourage grown. It feels as if it is right where I ought to be.

I was once told that "Home is being in the center of God's will." If that's true, I know I am home. And I'm glad.

Reflecting in Hope: 2011

New Years makes me reflective and hopeful. Here is the result of that combination:

2011. Wow. I can hardly believe that a new year is upon us. The last time I wrote, I had a feeling that my life was on the cusp of change. That, like the autumn leaves, my life was about to transform and convert to something different. Feelings are funny like that, and a lot of times, your gut is right. The last three months have been bursting at the seams with change unlike any I had experienced previously. I dislike change and crave consistency. I enjoy knowing what comes next and how to prepare. But the funny thing about this season of change was that all of the changes were positive changes. Each change that occurred brought the stress that life revolutions always bring, but blessings all the same.

I feel that the Lord taught me, through these changes, that He is always faithful. Time and time again between October and December, I worried. My stomach knotted and turned. I wasn't sure things would turn out ok. And each time, I felt His hand on my shoulder, comforting me and providing for me. Even though I don't deserve it. Even though I can't comprehend His feelings for me. As my cravings for consistency continue, I have learned this Autumn that the Lord is ultimately consistent, ultimately strong, and ultimately worthy of my faith, trust, and praise.

Even amidst the continuing change, I relish in the expectation that a new year brings. The start of the New Year brings freshness like the sweet scent of laundry detergent leaking from the dryer as soft warm clothes emerge. 2011 brings hope. Not necessarily that it will be an easy year, for I realize that, here in the real world that I am soon to join, changes aren't more rampant, just less expected than in the school world. I think that it's important to reflect upon what happened in the past year in order to prepare for the new, less certain year. Based on 2010, I know that the Lord will be faithful, that He has blessed me beyond my wildest dreams in order that I may bless others by sharing His love, and that serving and knowing Him amidst the change is my heart's utmost desire, and that He brings consistency through his presence.

2010, you were lovely. I am genuinely sad to see you go. 2011, I'm eager to see what you will bring.