Babies

I watched the documentary "Babies" yesterday, and it was incredible.
I think that I was so inclined to it because of the scenery. I love movies and books that really take me somewhere. And majors, too. Thank God I live in a world where Hospitality is actually a major.
They were absolutely breathtaking. The "attention to detail" in gathering the shots of Tokyo to showcase every small light, all gathering to create such a beautiful, man made scene. The "homey" feeling of Mongolians who live on a ranch in what seems to be a hut, yet still get cable somehow. The African foliage and raised mountains as a backdrop to the simplest lifestyle in Namibia. And then back here in the United States, showcasing a typical white family in a typical box in San Francisco.
Somehow I grew bitter of how we raise our children. Maybe I am just bored with America altogether, although I have never been to San Francisco. Actually I have never been west of the Mississippi. Well, St. Louis, but still.
The babies in San Francisco and Tokyo, show how much we have taken over. Raise your children the "right" way. Sit them in front of the electronic baby-sitter, good ole television, and switch on the Baby Einstein. Hopefully it can teach them until you send them off to junior-junior kindergarten so someone else you hire can takeover. Keep them on the same right track. Stay inside the house. Play in our backyard, our neighborhood. Don't do that. It will hurt. Time to go to 2 year old ballet. Bring up your grades in every subject, don't specialize. Be a generally good person.
In Africa and Namibia, the children don't necessarily roam free, but they are free to explore as they like. Falling is not an over dramaticized event. They fall, cry, and get back up on their own. They explore on their own. Their curiousity is not stopped. Their socializing is not refrained. I mean the movie opens with two of these babies, so young, socializing together. It escalades to a fight over a small bottle. You can hear a mother in the background. But she doesn't step-in. She isn't here to fight his battles. She is there to care for him afterwards, when he crawls back after losing the fight.
Both the African and Mongolian child are also close to animals. Their parents dont stop them from petting or even leaning against cows, goats, cats, or dogs. An American mother would freak and then sanitize thoroughly. How is it that we have such a high infant mortality and their's is no where near ours?
Anytime the scenes jumped back to Tokyo or San Francisco, I felt my mind wander. I have seen baby classes before. I have seen the city. This upbringing bores me, I can't imagine what it does to a stimulation-hungry baby.

Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish.

Yesterday I went to a MILE meeting. MILE is a leadership program here at the University of Memphis dedicated to creating future leaders. I should also mention something that was not pointed out to myself, it is dedicated to creating future Memphis leaders. Seeing how my primary backing as a Hospitality is, well, travel some, and get the heck out of here. Nothing against Memphis. Really and truly, nothing against Memphis anymore. I have learned to love my city, but, really, it has been too long. It will have been over twenty-two years here after graduation and I would say that I have done my time. I should have known there was a reason I was the only Hospitality major in the room.
Back to MILE.
Last night our speaker was Chris Crouch. A super interesting and charismatic guy who really love to read. And I'm not talking Shakespeare. I mean I love my fair share of beautifully written lit, but I have really taken to the more useful side of books lately. Throughout his entire presentation, he continued to mention great books that sounded incredibly relevant to me. For once. I think that is definitely a flaw of our English teachers of today. Again, I love reading for the sake of "going somewhere" or "creating a scene" or discovering hidden meaning, but there is a heavy unbalance of this in our schools, both private and public. A lot of youth simply are in touch with that, and that is okay. Why can't we provide more relevant and current reading? One of my favorite books from high school was written within the last five years, well, last five years from the time I had read it. And it wasn't one of these watered down chick books or teeny novels. It was a book on finance. It was Financial Peace, by Dave Ramsey. See, I remembered BOTH the title and author. Although I loved Fahrenheit 451, I could never tell you who wrote it after I had the quiz. It doesn't matter when you have Google anyway. (It was Ray Bradbury by the way. I googled.)
Books like Freakonomics, and Outliers, would show our youth a different side of the world. Teach them to read deeper outside of the artsy way. He mentioned the latter last night by the way. He goes on to say that the people who write these books spend years researching and/or living some way and figure out the best or worst way to do something and he can save himself all those years and squeeze them into a couple of nights.
What a cool notion.
Also in his speech, he showed a video that really rang true to me last night. He showed the above clip of Sanford's graduation ceremony. Steve Jobs spoke to them. Lucky son of a guns. I guess, if anything, you get a cool graduation speaker for all that money! It really showed him in a different light. I love listening to graduation ceremony's. These incredible leaders, who have been through so much, get to tell people who are about to go out into the world a little bit of what to do and not do so they live with no regrets and enjoy every moment possible.
They are always so profound.
From there I went straight to a Volunteer Appreciation dinner from A Night of Southern Elegance. As the people began to chit chat and enjoy some delicious food, I began to notice how alike we all were, yet different at the same time. There was a place for everyone at this event. And for them to be thankful enough to host a dinner for us meant the world to me. It makes me wonder why I don't do these things more often.
I met an incredible person there, Cheryl Haas, who is such an inspiring event planner and "home stager." I openly admitted to having no idea what a home stager was. Apparently there is a need in the world to "spruce" up an empty or horrific home to help it to sell. She often has offers to buy some of the furniture, too! This need is big enough that she has a warehouse to store her furniture. Who knew!? Talking to her as well as these other volunteers, I realized that most were successful and busy people in their careers, but still took the time out of their personal lives to plan such a huge event.
I really need to stop complaining about how busy I am.
I need to volunteer more.
Steve Jobs ends his speech with "Stay hungry, Stay foolish."
Maybe I am too careful. I don't take enough risks. I will still graduate with a B in my classes. Whether or not I am happy or involved is up to me.

On that note, we will be trick or treating for Camp Good Grief tomorrow in the early evening. If you have any leftover Halloween candy, please take the time to drop it by the Holiday Inn at the University of Memphis. We are using it to create a gingerbread house village to be on display at the Botanic Gardens during the holiday season, with proceeds to benefit Camp Good Grief.

Equilateral Triangles at the Bottom of a Quarry

Rain has come! It has been, what, six weeks? Sure. Six weeks since our last rain and ALAS here it is! No more burn bans! Although, it was after the downpour that I got into my car and realized that there is a leak somewhere. I mean, when you are staring into the face of an inch of water in your floorboard, clearly there is a leak. Sigh. How many financial crisis' can a girl hit before she goes out of town two weekends in a row?
I'm really excited about my scuba trip next weekend. I will be getting certified in Deep, Night/Limited Visibility, Navigation, and Boat diving. I was a little anxious about the night diving, but still excited! Although, after last night, I don't think I can handle the navigation part. I like to prepare for tests. I take the time to roughly analyze a professor's teaching skills and practices to better understand how they will test. I mean at the end of the day, for most classes, I have no use or desire in learning beyond what they will test me for. As Keith went over how we would go through certification, I freaked. I mean the guy starts talking about equilateral triangles and degrees of turns and addition and subtraction of different degrees. Math? At the bottom of the quarry? Oh and you want me to time our kicks? And make sure the entire dive is under a certain time, at a certain depth,and lets not forget to breath!
Stressed.
It should be a growing experience.
Everyone likes those.
Pelham, AL here we go!

Don't You Just Love A Good Funeral?

Funerals are incredible things. Even the most horrid of humans gift their condolences and respect to those who have lost a loved one. I love how the city respects them in traffic, allowing them to pass in their hour of grievance. It is a necessity. I cannot imagine what it is like for those who are "lost"-unknown to be dead or alive. As humans, no matter the religion, we cling to this. Many of us grieve in different ways, but a funeral forces us to reconcile with humanity. Recognize those who are still living as a new type of support, maybe more or maybe less with the recent passing.
My keyword of life lately, and probably always, is BUSY. I am too busy and I tell people I'm busy too much. I should shut up and get my neverending pile done. When my father asked me to attend the funeral of someone I never knew or met, I was hesitant. Let's face it, this is no barbecue. Although I was offered dinner in exchange- I never got it, huff! I told him I really was too busy, but when he asked please I began to wonder why he would even ask me to go. Again, I don't know this man, and have seen his left behind loved ones in quite some time. I'm glad I went.
I have never been to a graveside funeral, nor one for a military personnel. Double whammy on the firsts here. The entire grounds was hushed, seemingly out of respect, as I drove to the building. We quietly chatted outside, awaiting the family, and silently moved to our cars when they appeared. As I started mine I laughed as I realized I was trying to start my car quietly. We try, Harvey and I.
Following the line of grief, I, for whatever reason, did not feel out of place. I felt like I should be there. The scenery was beautiful and this was such a strong moment of quiet reflection. As we slowed to a stop, everyone hesitated to depart their vehicles. Again, we try so hard to uphold these silences. We all feel awkward and unsure of what to do. Funerals are not everyday life, but neither are weddings and we are quick jump in there. I guess that's the balance of life. You spend most of your time celebrating, which we should, and some reflecting. I am beginning to think, however, that I do not reflect enough. I'm "too busy."
Being pulled to this funeral was perfect timing. There were a lot of other things I could have been doing. School work, getting hours at work, or evening responding to week old e-mails. But I was there to simple be. I was there as a warm body that was showing some respect and care to those who had lost someone. I guess that is why we feel obligated to attend, to show our friends that we know they are sad and, as much as we hate to see them like that, we will be there for them anyway. It isn't all about the body in the bag. It's about not just getting through this time, but reflecting through it, too.
The wind was perfect. It really was too beautiful of a day for a funeral. The wind picked up perfectly at just the right times to blow the scent of the flowers towards the faces of mourners. I loved it. Perfect weather, pure human emotion. Raw care. As the Marines folded the flag, it was such a sight as the setting sun shine through it. One was older and the other I refuse to believe was old enough for the Marines yet.
All of these emotional triggers apparently hit my emotionless father. I could hear him sniff quietly a couple times, although you will never hear him admit things such as these. But that is a part of relating. He has already lost his own father, also a graveside funeral, and knows what it is like for his friend to lose his.
Times like these often come without warning. Forcing us to adjust our lives. We plan our graduations, interviews, weddings, even our child's birthday, and retirement. Death is the one we haven't planned, murder excepted although even that one isn't planned by loved ones (usually). You have a few days to drop it all for this momentous occasion. To show your final respect. Gather your thoughts and words. Thank God it is so rushed, so that we can see the most raw human possible. No fronts, no super planned speeches. None of the crap. It is such a beautiful sight.
This reflection of another's life brings us to serious thoughts of our own. What are we worth? What will they say when I'm gone? Will they care? Would they even know? How will I go? Is this my last Christmas? And what is on the other side, really? At the end of a life does my missing that meeting today really matter? Purpose?

Funerals are my favorite social gathering for sure.

Wicked Awesome.

It has been an incredible past two days.



Yesterday was an average work day. Afterwards Tony and I went to Blue Fin to eat some sushi before Wicked at the Orpheum. Blue Fin was good, your typical average service, great scene, overpriced "sushi lounge."

Fabulous show. Even better the second time. The music and plot line are simply amazing. The set design, including safety features integrated within the show, were remarkable. Hearing the song "For Good" reminds me of the "people" kick I've been on lately. Being thankful for every experience, past and current, which would mean nothing without the people who have come and gone I'm my life. While the acting was fabulous, it was after the show that made this song really stick.

Just after curtain call the cast stopped to tell their audience about an organization called Broadway Cares, which incidentally funds a program in our own backyard here in Memphis, Hope Works. In an attempt to stop HIV/AIDS as well as provide comfort to those affected by it, they have been asking every audience to donate $2 each. They even offered back stage tours for a $75 and a signed poster for $50. Wow. How incredible. For a group of people to take time after they essentially just got off work (exhausted, sweaty, and ready to be away from people), to encourage us to donate to this organization was incredibly impressive. They even had some of the minor characters outside in the lobby with change buckets. Now it was officially the best show I have EVER seen. I was so incredibly touched.

Today, Tony and I got up early- and by early I mean eight in the morning- and headed out to the new Greenline Trail which opened just last week. The trail is a paved biking/walking trail that covers old railroad tracks stretching from Shelby Farms to Tillman Road, near the Republic Coffee. We had so much fun! What a neat adventure. This simple path stretching through the woods, decorated in their fall foliage. We had already parked the truck and Republics and moved to Young Avenue Deli for lunch- I always recommend the Sam I Am, yum! We hauled the bikes down to Mud Island and biked the length of the Greenway Belt and back through the neighborhoods of Harbor Town. It was so great to take in the morning light through that trail and then mid-afternoon by the river, what a sight! Not to mention I love simply adoring the homes of Harbor Town. They resemble Seaside, except they are on an island on the Mississippi. For those of you who have never visited Seaside, FL the film The Truman Show was filmed entirely in the town. Essentially picture perfect one or two story zero-lot line homes with a beautiful view of the river and a very homey town square featuring all local shops and grocery, even The River Inn. Make sure you have flood insurance though.

Now, as I sit here enjoying a slightly cool evening and finishing up my pumpkin carving, I can't help but wonder why I don't spend more days like this. Throw away every homework assignment and miscellaneous obligation and spend the day exploring my city. Which, surprisingly doesn't cost as much money as you would think. Tony made a really great point today about how we always relate having fun to spending money. We spent almost nothing today, except lunch and the pumpkin, and had the greatest time ALL DAY. Not to mention, we got a lot of exercise! We biked nearly 12 miles (roughly)!

I'm really tired of hearing people complain about having nothing to do, when we have plenty of things to do (many are free) around here, it is just we have become so narrow minded to sum activities into a movie, concert, or any other formal event or entertainment venue. The greatest times I have ever had have been free ones where I learn or see something new. I guess I have hoped to explore and share some other sides of Memphis that many people don't see often. There are too many people working to change our city for us to continue griping. We are still small enough for you to help mold this city in a way you like. I encourage you to get out to one of our great parks or bike trails or even just drive around and get lost for a while. You will see some great things and probably some sad ones, too. Either way I hope it changes you for good.

A Night of Southern Elegance

I'm no cook. Seriously. I live off the microwave. I'm an expert in preparing dishes of Ramen and Easy Mac and the occasional frozen pizza- with adult supervision, of course, I'm not allowed to use the oven by myself anymore. Or the washer and dryer. Or light candles. I have no domestic skills whatsoever. I know what your thinking. How have I gone two decades without these skills? How will I continue with the next half a decade without them? Who on earth in their right mind would marry me? Who knows? Who cares?

Regardless of these facts, I am in a Food & Beverage course. It is required, I assure you. I'm halfway through and I still have my hair and all my extremities. Although I shouldn't speak so soon. I'm trying really hard. And learning a lot. I mean when you know nothing, you have a lot to gain. I'm pretty sure my group, "Folks in the Back," thinks I'm an idiot. Just to give you a brief idea of things I have openly, with a reddened face, come to learn recently- you are supposed to have salt for boiling water, a leek is not a mispronunciation of the word "leak," there are many types of ovens, knives, and even stove tops. My group has certainly had some laughs.

We have had several opportunities to get involved in the community in regards to food and beverage. I've had work every time (thank God) until last night. Last night was A Night of Southern Elegance: an Evening of Surprises. There were certainly a few surprises. Such as, there are no beverage napkins, not enough croutons or squash or strawberries, the ice is nowhere to be found, and dear God we have no bread and the menu shows bread. I showed up as a plate up volunteer to assist in making plates for the dinner of which 350 were expected to attend. My idea of plating up was placing pre-cut something on a plate. Ha! I know that I wrote that last sentence that you knew things wouldn't go that way, but in real life when you are living through the unexpected, it doesn't seem like it could wrong. Somehow, someway we always assume things will go accordingly, even though they rarely do. Funny.

I showed up and donned an extra large chef coat- essentially a chef coat dress if I were ever to decide to be a skanky cook, ha! When I was given the "itinerary" of preparing things and when they should be out I freaked. There were almost no details, only times and the other folks on my team. I was up first with salads. Salad doesn't sound difficult, I know, but you have to understand- we were FIRST! Being first is like going out on stage at a Miss America Pageant (okay I don't have ANY experience with that, but go with it), trying to impress everyone and do everything right. You have to make sure you're dressed appropriate (funny salad dressing reference!) and the best. Being first also means you have to evaluate the audience, especially the numbers in this case. 350 was the allowance for the event. 325 tickets were told. We would have no idea how many people were there until it came time for the first show, salad.

Figuring out the best way to lay out 350 on just four long tables was tricky and we ended up using trays, only to have the wait staff tell us to reduce the number of plates we had on a tray to eight, fitting each table accordingly. Soon thereafter Dr. Silkes told us we only need 325 and to get her to prepare the dressing. She was MIA when we got to 6:30, plates were supposed to be out at 7:10. Stressed. It was a frantic five minute long search before she showed up to help with the salad, mixed in a blue cube cooler with a bag inside. As she mixed we divided the lettuce among 325 plates as quickly as possible with other folks joining in to add a couple croutons (of which we ran out of after about 75% of the plates) and Parmesan. When we finished I quickly cleaned up the area, try to do as much as possible without hassling Chef. Five minutes after I threw out the bag, she asked if I could make some extra in case any came back. Crap. We used a bowl inside the cooler instead and were ready when they needed another 5 plates pushing our count to 330. Wait, 2 came back, 328.

Give me 30 seconds. Just 30 seconds to chill! After that we rearranged the back to get ready for entrees and dessert. Cleaning up and eating some really great hors d'oeuvres - I rewarded my stressed self with at least 5 chocolate covered strawberries. We chatted for a bit while our guests wined and dined. I spent the rest of my night simply trying to get plugged in. "Chef what can I do?" "Do you need this?" "Won't they be coming back for that?"

We focused on entrees next, of which I was put at scooping rice into mounds. I expected an ice cream scoop or something, nope just a spoon. By the time it was all said and done, it was like a rice bomb had blown up all over me. I felt like I was the only one making a mess, but who knows, I am seriously self conscious in the kitchen. Through the process, there was random hold ups. At first just myself in failed attempts to make a clean perfect mound on the plate. Next, we were all told to stop and we were working too quickly to get the plates out. That happened several times and then we ran out of squash. Gasp. Not that anyone likes squash anyway. Bluh. And maintaining the food's heat was the toughest, especially with the holding. All in all though, it went well. Plus the dessert team was finished and ready to go out after we finished.

Clean-up was intense, although we weren't left to do too much, but I had a great time getting to know some fellow majors and adults that simply wanted to help in their community to raise money for Fayette Cares. The organization itself sounds incredible, dealing with any troubles that could possibly come ones way in Fayette County. For more information on it, click here. It really felt great to spend a Saturday night having a great time and learning A LOT. I loved the fast pace. It has really made me consider event planning as an option for the future.

I couldn't believe how many people told me they were thankful for our time, especially since there was so much else we could be doing on a Saturday night. Actually, I don't have much. But I guess if you feel someone is a busy college student then volunteer work probably goes at the bottom. But, in my past few volunteer experiences (the farmer's market, Major Day, St. Jude) I have had some of the greatest times in Memphis. It has made me realize how much this city has to offer. I love feeling involved and in the loop. Any every experience has been something new. I have learned more about the community, an area of life I'm not familiar with, and even myself - for example, learning that I really like learning new things and doing something new. That I definitely prefer fast paced pressure in a work environment. I tend to take the lead in managing people, even if it is back of the house cooking and I have no skills.

Maybe I do it just to keep from spending time by myself. But ultimately I think I feel guilty for spending a day unproductive. I think sometimes I get too busy and don't give enough time to friends and family that they all deserve. I depend on them so much to keep my life sane. I run so much my house, my car, and my errands just fall by the wayside. I have no idea what I would do without them. I guess no matter how independent I try to be, I will still depend on my friends and family.

All in all, a wonderful weekend so far. Now off to finish my workday and then to see Wicked!

Found My Place

As of recently I have been talking a lot about how much I feel a call to the hospitality industry and certainly even above and beyond that. But at one point this week I was really wondering what I was going to do. Money is tight. REALLY tight. The industry in general doesn't pay much until you get to the top. I have considered changing over to accounting on several occasions. One such occasion was this past week. I mean I could still work for Disney and live where I would like to, just as a behind the scene accountant. Then, when I really needed a pick me up, so to speak, I was blessed so uniquely. Last weekend, one of my guests brought me a $25 Target gift card, just for remembering their names and preferences. I spent 45 minutes having a great conversation with another who is a friend of the Kemmons Wilson family and offered an evening to dine with them (they fund my largest scholarship). One of my extended stays, who knew I was considering a trip to Bonnaroo this upcoming summer, brought me a new Bonneroo t-shirt and offered their home since they would be out of town for the event! Another guest, who always happens to bring them when I am a little stressed, brought me some Muddy's cupcakes. One was the new pumpkin pie, yum! I wrote him a thank you note for always being so thoughtful and put it under his door. Yesterday, on my way to work I only had 10 miles left in my tank and didn't know how I was going to fill it and still pay for my insurance for the month. Not to mention the other bills that have been piling up, due before month-end, before my unpaid scuba trip and new york trip. As I walked up to the desk, there was a card taped to the counter with my name on it. It was such an encouraging note, plus a $25 American Express gift card. I had a ride home! My cupcake guest had left it for me. He always has such great timing. Whenever I get upset, I often feel alone and almost as soon as the feeling start in, there is always someone there to look out for me and encourage me. I'm not a super family oriented person. We have never been that close, especially before the divorce, but I feel like all my life, God has presented some amazing people as mentors and help along the way. I will never cease to be amazed at how many people have made such an effort to see me succeed: from my friend's parents and family to teachers and professors to my wonderful friends in Orlando, I will never be able to tell them thank you enough for the encouragement and support, for the simple faith they have in me. It has meant the world. I would not be the same person without them.



One of those great people is a professor of mine who is helping to host a charity dinner tonight for fayette cares in Oakland, TN. If you would like to volunteer, meet out there at 4 or simply buy a plate, I don't think they are sold out yet!

My soul finds rest in God alone.

It is funny how life passes us by. I remember when I was around 8 and I would count how many more school years I had to start - excluding college. My family wasn't one to encourage college in the beginning. I guess back then no one thought we would make it. At least I didn't. I can't believe that at only eight I never thought a college would accept me. Then again, I was looking to Princeton for approval. Clearly I have since dropped my high standards. Only 9 more first days of school. And then I would be done. I wasn't happy about switching to a private school, but they told me that princeton would take me if i went to a private school. Okay, deal, I'll do it. Even then, though, I never thought I would make it to the end. To be eighteen? How old. My cousin was only 15 at the time and I told myself I wouldn't even make it that far. I just could not see myself as an 18 year old, much less 20. It seemed too far off. All the eighteen year olds I saw were grown up and pretty. I would never be pretty. And how would I ever handle being on my own? I'm not so sure I've accomplished either one, but I would have never guessed what I had coming to me. I never knew belonging somewhere.
When I moved from public to private school at the precious year of third grade, I was not happy to say the least. I felt alone. I mean my brother and I wouldn't play on the same playground or have class in the same hallway anymore. I remember walking in with my dad and it was starting to snow. I almost started crying. I felt like I was a 2 year old being dumped on the babysitter. I remember being by myself with the teacher until the other kids got back from some other activity. They all walked in, just looking at me. Instantly, my clothes felt uncomfortable and old. The case was the same with my backpack and school supplies. I then realized I didn't have markers. Crap. I lived for markers and I didn't have them on this awful day. And of course we had to use markers later in the day and I, the different new kid, had to borrow. The next few years were the same. I always felt behind academically and socially. Teachers criticized my cursive (who even uses cursive anyway?) and I had nothing to talk about at lunch because I didn't play any sports and I didn't pass auditions for Saintly Singers. I was the only kid who auditioned and did not get in, mind you.
The middle school transition made things worse. Everyone gets awkward in middle school, but if you start out awkward, you're just plain doomed. I made and lost a few friends pretty quickly. When I told my mom I wanted back in public schools, she denied that request pretty fast. At that point I really didn't know what else to do. I had dreamed of how perfect this school was going to be for me a few years earlier. It was going to have a second floor and the teachers would be genuinely interested. Plus it was a Christian school so everyone would be nicer, right? Cough. It is amazing the things kids pick up on. I had no interest in staying with the Christian kids, they weren't any nicer. I mean they were just more awful. I missed my old friends who showed God's love even if they didn't believe in Him. So I just pushed through. Treat it as if it were the simple dull pain of a headache. I had not motivation to do very well in school, I simply wasn't as smart as the smart kids (who still lead social lives in cool clubs) or as cool as the cool kids.
The summer before high school, I got my braces off and acquired a pretty cool haircut. I became particular about my clothing and makeup. I woke up at 5 am to go to an institution that did not start until 8. I was committed to doing better for myself in high school. Not much changed in the beginning. I got a boyfriend. Met some cool people and pushed through, focusing on the boyfriend mind you. I got involved with his church, this already being my third "church home" at only 14. The first was purely daycare services with a cool Jesus sunday on the side and the second a much larger church in the area that was well, just as awful as school, and given the option, I would rather play N64 with my brother on a Wednesday night and sleep in on Sundays. I made some good friends at that church that seemed to accept me at first. But I soon came to realize that I was clearly more liberal than they had anticipated and expected of someone who dated this guy. When we broke up, I was no longer welcome. No one talked to me anymore, I was scum of the sinner's earth. Slight migraine, push through.
I spent some time with my friends and then got a job, which took up most of my time. I really liked my job and I did well as far as I knew. I liked my slight independence. I liked having a couple friends even if I still didn't deem it worthwhile to wake up for the hell hole everyday. I got another boyfriend and somehow repeated the cycle again. Five churches in, I think I'm done. We got back together, sans my church attendance, and moved through high school to college. I wasn't involved much. Just spent time with him. Most of my friends went out of town to school. Leaving me with him. Not that he is a bad guy or it was awful, just saying he was all I really had at that point. I was uninvolved at school, which basically caused me to question what I was doing there. Why didn't I go to UCF where I wanted to be? Why didn't I get my way like everyone else at the rich white private school? I worked so hard, balancing work, bills, and school. They did nothing except land in the right womb at the right time.
When I got laid off I was done with Memphis. I had been screwed over for the last time. I was leaving and going where I wanted to go, Orlando. I made real friends that didn't care what I, nor my parents, made. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that we had a good time and had enough money to eat. I met people who were odd like me in an outgoing way. I had a job at company I would really flourish at, I could feel it. This was where I belong.
After all those years of misery, when you find the right thing, you know it. My true love was my job, my company, my city, my roommates. It is an unbelievable happiness. Its unlike anything else. I would not truly know God without the hardships and that reward. God is love. He is the passion within me that I never knew was there. He is the passion in others who love to share it. He is not comfy pews or high standards. He is found in a welcoming friend who isn't perfect, but simply themselves, willing to accept you the way you are. It is times like those or moments in St. Jude that I have found God. I don't think I have nor ever will see God inside of four walls. He is too big, too original for that. And so am I.
I would give anything to have those times back. And I hope to someday. Upon my return I stopped finding the hatred and started seeking the love in my own city until I go back home to Orlando. It wasn't far. It is all in a matter of seeking. God asks us to be fishers of men. That means you don't sit in the boat with high standards waiting on the ONLY fish you, of such high quality, will ACCEPT on God's behalf to throw themselves inside. You are not the judge. You are not an "after-life" insurance agent. Stop selling the get-out-of-hell free card and expecting people to go somewhere with their faith. God is action and love, not lukewarm faith. Showing God's love is not shoving theology down peoples throats or hypocritical standards. I can't wait to be back where I belong, in sync with my relationships and seeing God outside of some gaudy cross, but at least I have realized how to continue searching and learning here.