Structure

I do my best when I have structure in my life. I have a schedule. Life is consistent. I am in control.

The YAV year has structure. I work 32 hours at my nonprofit, Tuesday nights and Friday mornings are spent with everyone, and I work 5 hours at Brooks-Howell. But in the smaller places, I have to make my own structure. I came up with my schedule at work. I figured out what I do Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, respectively. I prioritize what needs to be done now versus what can be put at the bottom of my to-do list.

A buzzword for the YAV year is "flexibility". Be flexible for whatever comes your way. Not one person has the same year as another. Loving my structure has been hard in loving my flexibility.

This year I feel I have tested my flexibility many times: my job went from two directors to one,  my schedule is different than all my housemates (even though I have worked hard to keep it in the structure of Monday-Thursday), my work place nearly dissolved, my work place is moving locations, and my schedule is changing again. I have had to create my own structure in those moments. I have picked up responsibilities that I didn't think I would have. I have to be flexible because I can't tell you what tomorrow will bring with my job.

With structure comes the hatred of change. I cannot stand things changing, for better or worse. I get a day off from work? I panic and don't know what to do with myself. My schedule has now been altered. My work might dissolve? I panic and think the worse possibilities. Structure is a two sided sword: it brings me comfort but can limit me at the same time.

I'm now halfway through my YAV year and I don't know what the future will bring. I don't know what's coming next and that TERRIFIES me. I plan and rely on structure so much that when I don't have it, I struggle. This year is teaching me to flex my flexibility muscle. Learning something new is never easy, but I know it will benefit me the rest of my life.

Am I Christian Enough?

So many of you know me, have interacted with me in person. I curse, I listen to "worldly" music, I love Star Wars and Harry Potter (I even have a tattoo of the deathly hallows on me), and I love to read most anything fantasy or sci-fi. And with all of these attributes I bring up the question: Am I Christian enough?

See I've read the Bible, but not all the way through. I know for sure I've read the first five books of the New Testament all the way through, along with a few of the shorter books. I can't quote the Bible verbatim. I may mix up stories and where they're found. I don't know how to rebuke someone who quotes the Bible at me. Am I Christian enough?

I love reading and movies and music, but I don't want to be bound by just "Christian" ones. Only listen to the Christian radio station, only read books about Christianity, and God forbid only watch those cheesy Christian movies. I love my Star Wars, Harry Potter, Doctor Who, and more. Are those Christian? Can I be Christian and enjoy them?

I struggled with a conclusion paragraph for one of these blog posts.  I continually had to change it because according to my roommate, it was a 12/10 on the cheesiness factor. It didn't sound like me. She was right. I don't go around talking about Jesus, God, and the Bible all the time. Does that make me a bad Christian? I understand and respect peoples' wishes when they don't want to talk about religion because most of the time they've been hurt by it. I don't try and convert everyone I talk to. And the best part is, my career is in science. How the hell am I supposed to be a Christian and a scientist AT THE SAME TIME??? (sarcasm alert. I'm confident in my juxtaposition)

I'm reading a book right now that helps with some parts of my faith. But man, is it hard to read something that every page has several Bible verses backing it up and I have no idea what those verses say or even what context they're in?? Reading these Christian books has never been easy; many times they've been uncomfortable. It's also sad that I feel more comfortable getting questions answered from books than my own church/pastor. Like why don't we talk about the LGBT community in church when I know several members who fall in that community? Why don't we talk about sex (I'm not saying I need a sermon, but for people to actual talk about sexuality, marriage, and religion in the same room)? What interpretations do we accept from the Bible and which ones do we write off?

All of these questions go through my head when I let them, along with many others. This doubting makes me compare myself to others and bring up the question: Am I Christian enough? And that's something I unfortunately have to figure out for myself.

Go Tell It On the Mountain

Here are some pictures from my Christmas festivities, here in Asheville, NC.

Cookie decorating with some of my roommates (at 10 one night)

Erin and I with SANTA at the Grove Arcade

Christmas at Calvary Presbyterian (yes it really is that yellow)

My Christmas tree

Gingerbread house decorated by Laura and me

My first Christmas not at FPC Pensacola

Grace Covenant Presbyterian

Caroling with and for the residents of Brooks-Howell

Laura and I with our festive attire
(our hats sang "We are Santa's Elves" from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer)

Christmas lunch at Brooks-Howell

Christmas night at Laura's featuring a Mountain Cream Puff (behind the bowl of ornaments)

My Day/Adventure with June

This Saturday was a day I'll never forget. I went from going on an adventure by myself to going on it with someone 50+ years older than me.

The plan started out to go take the bus from Brooks-Howell to downtown. Walk and eat lunch at a Korean restaurant. Walk to the bus station. Take the 30+minute ride to the movie theatre and watch Aquaman. Depending on the time, take the bus or Lyft back, with potential dinner.

What actually happened is that we discussed the plan in the dining room on Friday. I showed June the trailer, so she would know what she was getting herself into. Even on Thursday, when I was describing the movie and how long it would be, she just said "If it gets too loud, I'll take out my hearing aids" and "Wake me up for the good parts." Someone nearby heard our conversation and offered to give us a ride down to the theatre. We also discussed getting Korean food for lunch or dinner. Finally, our plan was settled.

We met in the lobby on Saturday, bundled up for the cold weather to come in the night, June in a Santa hat and a sweater with "Ho Ho Ho" across it, and drove down to Biltmore Park to the Regal. It amazed her that my tickets were on my phone and they just scanned them to get in. We also passed a photo booth, where June commented that "she hadn't seen one in years." We got popcorn and water and walked to our seats. We sat in the theatre for three hours, watching advertisements, trailers ("there's the one for concessions!"), and finally the movie. Throughout the movie, I would look over at her and check on her, see what her reactions were to the scenery or even language (Aquaman is PG-13 after all). Afterwards, she was just befuddled by it being underwater most of the time. I pointed out in the credits to all the people who were on the CGI teams; she was amazed.

We took a Lyft from there to The Korean House Restaurant, where I had my coveted Bi Bim Bab and June got Jab Chae. Both were quite delicious. We recalled eating other Asian cuisines throughout our college years with international students. We talked about when we learned to use chopsticks and June's travels in the Far East. We had a great time.

One of the questions from that day that has still stayed with me was "How will you introduce me to people? As your grandmother?" I immediately replied, "No, as my friend." She smiled. "Good. That's what I hoped for." It was a day of intergenerational fun, of learning new and old ways, that I will treasure forever.

June and I in the theatre

June and I with the Aquaman poster.
There was no cutout sadly.

June with her Jab Chae; my Bi Bim Bab.

Intentional Community

Tonight has been one of the most meaningful ones yet.

After our respective afternoons today, we gathered around the tv and watched my favorite Christmas movie (it's A Year Without A Santa Claus for those of you wondering). Afterwards we talked, but not about the movie. We talked about community and what it means to us.

One pillar of the Young Adult Volunteer (YAV) year is intentional community. We've been living together for three months so far, but something has felt amiss. Finally, we confronted it. We all defined what community means to us and the expectations we had for this year. Several people had thought it would be easy. Several people thought that we would "coexist" and be roommates. We all had different definitions of community.

What does community mean? Who is our community? Community is the people who will be there for you no matter what. They are more than friends and family. You should not be afraid to go to anyone in your community for anything. Yeah, there are boundaries, but that's part about being intentional: knowing who to go for what and when.

We all came to the conclusion that we weren't putting forth effort to get to know everyone. We became comfortable in two separate cliques and weren't trying to get to know the others. The people we hung out with were like us and we naturally gravitated towards each other.

But that's not how we should live for this year. Yes, we can appreciate the people who are like us but we haven't been trying to get to know the others who aren't. For this year to be successful, we need to work with each other, learn each others strengths and weaknesses, lights and shadows, loves and pet peeves. We have to keep trying harder or we are going to miss what half this year is about.

What do I deserve and what should I get?

Holidays will be different this year. We're all here in Asheville for Thanksgiving. I've chosen to stay here for Christmas.

As the holiday season starts, we (Asheville YAVs) have gotten plenty of Thanksgiving invitations. As I've been joking, if someone could feed us Saturday, we would have free meals every other day for the next week. I had family dinner yesterday with my organization, Youth OUTright; tomorrow, we'll have dinner at Green Opportunities, where Erin works; and then actual Thanksgiving. Phew. Actual Thanksgiving we have been invited to no less than five meals. I'll only be attending two.

I guess that's a definition of privilege, having so many people invite you to share food with them. Another privilege is getting to let go of the burdens placed on me at work. I have two and a half days off this week. I get to put everything down and walk away. Others aren't as fortunate.

I'm going through growing pains again. I'm struggling with where I belong in my organization. What should I be privy to? What don't I need to know? What do I deserve and what should I get? Things are changing in the space and I don't know where I belong in all of it. I had the parade to distract me the past two weeks, but now that is over (side note: Youth OUTright and Tranzmission [the transgender group of AVL] had a float in the holiday parade this past Saturday. I did most of the decorations and helped with the design. Some joked that I could be an official parade float designer/coordinator. I'm not doing that again.)

The struggle is real, figuring out where one belongs. Whether it's physically, as in location, or more often in groups, figuring out where you belong is tough. I don't know where I'm at, at my job. I doubt my belonging at home (both in Asheville and Florida). And thinking of the future, I don't know where I'll be next. That's tough. That's part of this year though: discernment. This discernment is finding confidence in myself to belong anywhere.

So even though it's tough, I'm learning. I do belong here, or I wouldn't have gotten as many invites for Turkey Day. I'll find another belonging as Christmas comes around and I attend other peoples' traditions. As I continue to stretch and grow, I'll keep leaning on the one place I know I'll always belong: with God.

Dear Margaret

Dear Margaret,

I wish I had gotten to know you better. We shared some intimate moments, but I was hoping one day to have a response or a reaction from what I said. I wish I had known you when you were younger and full of spirit. I wish I could have shown you the love you deserved.

I will always remember you as the frail, old woman who held my hand and put her head on my shoulder. The lady who tried to get out of her chair or bed, even though you didn't have the capacity. I wanted to tell you so many more stories and I wanted to hear more from you. I will hold dear the memory of you kissing my hands and head and me returning the favor.

I love you Margaret. I will miss you so. I've cried the past few days for you. Everyone tells me that you're happier, healthier, and in a better place. I know that; I'm crying for myself. For what I will never know about you, for the time that I wanted to spend with you, for the longing I will have, for missing you. I'm mourning what could have been.

I'll see you soon.


RIP Margaret C. who passed on November 9 in the early afternoon.