Bikes?

I have an odd obsession with bikes. It started sometime this summer; I can't exactly remember when. But all of the sudden, I wanted the focal point of my bedroom in my new apartment to be a bike wall hanging. With my birthday money, I purchased an old timey bike necklace off of etsy (pictured left) and it has become a staple in my wardrobe. I even purchased a cream bike that sits prominetely on my nightstand.

This semester, I am spending a large portion of my week with preschoolers. I am a grad assistant at a preschool language program, which I absolutely love, work with some preschool aged chidren at a private school for children with learning disabilities, and, my favorite part of all, I shadow the preschool boy with autism that I worked with this summer. He is mainstreamed in a regular 4 year old classroom, so shadowing him means encouraging him to socialize with the regularly developing kids.

One of the kids, Gibson, is particularly cute. He always wears gray clothes, is very animated and acts like a little man. Inspired by the bike obsession, I have been wearing the bike necklace nearly every day. Last week, Gibson came to ask me a question, when a look of perplexion came across his face. "What is that for?" I asked Gibson.
"What is that on your necklace?" He asked, still looking quite confused.
"It's a bike!" I said with a smile, hoping the conversation would end, because I wasn't sure how to explain this to anyone, especially a 4 year old.
"It doesn't look like a bike. It looks like a wheelchair." Gibson replied. I was definitely not expecting this, so I explained that it was an old timey bike, and it looked different than a regular bike that he would ride.
"Are you sure?" he questioned. "It really looks like a wheelchair."
I just smiled this time.


His questioning made my week. When I went back today, I wore the bike necklace. It now puts a smile on my face everytime I put it on. I love kids.

Gray

Gray. It's a strange color; a perfect combination of black and white.

My favorite color is gray. It's odd, I know. It's such a melancholy color. It's dull. It's depressing, It's glum. It's the color of clouds before rain cleanses them. Strange as it is, I love it. Every time I am perusing for bargains at Marshalls, I smile with delight as I see a gray knee-length sweater dress. My friends and family laugh. It's odd.

Life used to fee black and white to me. Things were right and wrong. Plain and simple. There was no middle ground. I knew what was right, what I was supposed to do and what was wrong and that I shouldn't do, and I had no problem finding the discipline to do just that. It came naturally to me. I took that for granted.

Lately, life has felt very gray. What used to be so plainly black and white has somehow been blended together. Emotions float in between. People float in between. And all of the sudden, what was a palate of neatly dabbled splotches of black and white is a charcoal mixture. It's hard to know how to fix it. It's difficult to know what to do next.

Part of me things that the gray is what makes life...well, life. Perfection is wearing. Life would be dull without imperfections. Maybe embracing the gray, embracing the complication, embracing the mess is what makes life.

What Christmas is All About

Christmas and I have a love/hate relationship.

Growing up and through high school, I was the ultimate Christmas lover. I start listening to Christmas music on November 1, the first day where people don't give you odd looks when they hear Burl Ives "Holly Jolly Christmas" leaking out of your car. I watch what seems like hundreds of Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate (or coffee these days) and anxiously count down the days until Santa arrives. Christmas has always been my favorite holiday.

When I was 16, I started working at a Hallmark store in Arlington. Working retail changes your perceptions on Christmas. Sure, at first it was wonderful to be surrounded by Christmas for 20 hours a week while at work. But as Christmas grew nearer, people started to get short. The hustle and bustle of the holidays gets to them, and as the wonderful day grows closer, they become more and more tacky. It's not at all because they are bad people, but because they get frustrated and worried that they will not get everything done in time. My first Christmas to work, I was yelled at for saying "Merry Christmas" as I sold a Christmas card. Each year I swear it will be my last to work retail during the holidays, not wanting to lose my love for Christmas, but each year I somehow return. 7 Christmases later, here I sit with aching feet after my 7 hour shift on Christmas Eve.

Yesterday began much the same. The snow outside, which I was ecastic about, brought out crabby moods in the people who were forced to trek around Arlington in it. People were cold, frustrated, and downright tired by the time they entered our small gift shop and their actions definitely showed it. During the afternoon, a woman named Lauren came to my register with three cards. She passed them to me as I smiled and inquired about how her Christmas shopping was going. She complained that our card selection was low, and I informed her of my theory that people were just giving cards this year instead of gifts because of the economy. She said nothing else, not being rude, but hardly being friendly either.

As I continued entering the prices of her cards into the register (yes, we are possibly the only store in the state that does not have computers), an older woman stepped up behind her. Her name was Ruth, and she was petite with windblown gray curly hair that still showed small streaks of brown in it, and she held a single box of Christmas cards, clearly meant for last minute gifts.

"That will be $9.36," I said to Lauren, the first woman, with a smile, as she gently pushed over her credit card and her Crown Rewards card. I grabbed the cards, hit credit on the register, and began to turn around to run her credit cards, when Lauren replied, "Excuse me." I whipped my head around, my wavy hair hitting my shoulder blades as I turned to look at Lauren,"I'll get her cards too." Lauren gestured at Ruth, who looked a little baffled.

Ruth quietly replied "Thank you" as she stepped up to the counter, set down her box of cards, and began rummaging through her purse for her wallet.

Lauren put her hand on Ruth's shoulder and said, "No, ma'am, I'm paying for your cards. No need for your wallet." Ruth looked up at Lauren, this clearly being the first eye contact made between the two women. A smile began to creep across my face as I rung in Ruth's cards and made my way to the credit card machine. This is like something you read about in some inspirational forwarded e-mail, I thought to myself.

As I swipped Lauren's credit card, the two women began to converse, first introducing themselves to one another:
L- I'm Lauren.
R- I'm Ruth.
L- You remind me so much of my mother-in-law. She passed away this year. The holidays have been really hard for my family without her.
R- I'm sorry for your loss.
L- Do you have family to spend the holidays with?
R- Yes, I've been blessed wtih a husband, a daughter, a son, and 4 grandchildren. Do you?
L- Yes, I am married and have a son. I want grandbabies so bad! (The two women laughed here)
R- That's what Christmas is all about. Seeing your blessings and spending time making memories with your family.

Tears clouded my eyes as I pushed in the totals on the credit card machine. "This is what Christmas is all about," I thought. Doing something kind for a stranger. Loving people who you have never met before. As we celebrate Christ's birth 2009 years ago today, this story is what he exemplified. It is what he stood for.

I gave Lauren her receipt and she quickly scribbled her name on the line. I wished them both a Merry Christmas and they hurried out the door, probably thinking they were soon to be forgotten, as 200 people entered and exited our store yesterday.

But they will not be forgotten. Their story will not be forgotten. As I've fought off cynicism about people during the holidays while working retail, I will always remember this random act of kindness I was lucky enough to witness. In the words of Anne Frank, "Despite everything, I think people really are good at heart."

Me too, Anne. Merry Christmas.

Things I'm Thankful for...Part 5

Slightly delayed. More posts coming soon...

The 5th thing I'm thankful for. Most importantly the second half.

Romans 6:23

Things I'm Thankful For...Part 4: Old Friends

So I dropped the ball on posting everyday, but only because I was being inspired. I've decided to post twice today to keep up the 5 things I'm thankful for.

Last night, I was reading for class at my favorite Starbucks in Arlington. The Starbucks I usually go to is smaller than most, and is easily crowded and noisy. Last night it was especially so, being the day before Thanksgiving. All around me were groups of college girls, reuniting to share stories and catch up. The girls behind me were telling long stories about living in Boston and new boyfriends. Another group took up 2 tables and went around several times sharing. After leaving Starbucks, I went to an old friends house and reunited with the group I spent all of last winter with. Although we hadn't seen each other in what seemed like an eternity, it didn't take long before inside jokes started flowing. Laughter filled the room. It was just like old times.
I am thankful for old friends (and I include family in this category). There's something charming about being around the people who shared in the experiences that shaped who you are. There's something comforting about being around the people that have comforted you through breakups with boyfriends, losing family members, fights with friends and everything in between. There's something special about laughing about things that happened years ago that never seem to lose their humor. Old friends know you to the core. They know what makes you tick, how to rile you up, and how to cheer you up.They are always there for you. And that is what means the most.

Things I'm Thankful For...Part 3: Laughter

Laugh. Giggle. Chuckle. Titter. Snicker. I can barely type these words without cracking a grin. Laughter is something that can transform a dreary day into a glorious one. A funny story. A joke from a friend that the two of you are the only ones that understand. A smile from a stranger.

Laughter is something not to be taken for granted. Laughter is a joy of life I am thankful for.

It's hard for me to think of a moment I treasure where laughter was not present. Friends laugh at goofy things each of us mistakenly said. Family laughs at misunderstandings and catestrophic moments. Things you have to have been present at to find humerous. It provides unity. It bonds us together.

It seems that no matter what the situation, laughter seems to make it that much sweeter, and that much more refreshing. Laughter is like adding the perfect amount of splenda to a peach tea on a hot summer day.

Maybe I just have funny friends. Maybe we've discovered one of the great treasures of life.

"Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those I love I can: all of them make me laugh." -W.H. Auden

Things I'm Thankful For... Part 2: Surprising Direction

As I was thinking about what to write about today, I honestly felt a little lost. Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for so many things. I've been blessed beyond anything I could have ever imagined, but I was somehow stumped. I prayed. I thought. I soul searched. I came up with two thoughts: I'm grateful for direction in my life, but I'm also grateful for the surprises of life that often lead to that direction. So since they go hand-in-hand in my life, they are going hand-in-hand in one entry.

Direction. Something sought by most. It seems that everyone wants to know not only where they're going, but how they're supposed to get there. Be it in careers, relationships, or any other aspect of life. I feel lost if I don't have a destination in mind.

But here's the tricky part: the more I seek a destination, the more lost I feel. The harder I search for, think about, try to know and outright demand a destination, the more I realize I have no idea where I'm going. The more the frustration sets in. For without a destination, I ask myself, how the heck am I supposed to know how to live my life?

Just as I start to give up and feel as if I must wander aimlessly through life, something happens. Something unexpected. Out of the blue. An unforseen bend in the road apears on the horizon, gently nudging me back on the path, of which I can only see what seems to be 2 steps in front of me.

Without fail, this surprise makes me smile. In a way I could have never imagined. And that's what's so wonderful about it.

Psalm 119:105 says "Your word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path." A wise friend once pointed out to me that a lamp unto your feet would only show you what was a couple of steps in front of you. Not the destination. Not the whole path. But just what was up next.

I reflect upon these facts that have been proven true time and time again in my life. Why does it always work that the second I give up on trying to figure it out on my own, that I finally realize I won't know, do I gain just enough clarity to step where I ought to be? I think it's God, knowing that if I knew all that He knew, I'd think I could do it on my own. That I would be arrogant enough to think I could get there without His guidance, without His help. I think the lack of knowing is Him watching out for me, knowing what is best, and taking care of me in ways only He could know how to. It strengthens my faith. It renews my longing for Him. My need for Him. My desperation for Him.

So I'm grateful not only for the direction, but the surprising ways He provides it.

"For some people, God will grant the insight to see that you have your sights set on the wrong thing, that the point of life is not really the goal or destination but the journey." -Kyle Lake, Understanding God's Will