maybe the buses should have seat belts

Today I was riding a North-South bus en route from my Human Geography class in the instructional plaza to my Language Disorders class in Aderhold. Just as we were turning by the coliseum, a Volvo decided to pull out in front of the bus, forcing the driver to slam on his brakes. The next thing I knew, my bookbag and I had been ejected from our seat, and was sort of flying through the sparse crowd standing around the front section of the bus. I landed a foot or two away from the driver with a pair of knees that would have been skinned without the protection of my jeans, staring up into a dozen pairs of eyes that looked as shocked as I'm sure mine did.

The next thing I realized was that my bookbag was on top of my chest and that the bus was still moving towards the next stop, which was mine. I pulled myself up and lumbered back to my seat, where my classmates began demanding a slew of reassurances that I was, in fact, okay. At this point, we had about four minutes to run a quarter of a mile to our class. I jumped off the bus and jogged down Carlton Street, arriving just in time.

Turns out, the only injury I actually sustained was minor: I jammed the ring and little fingers of my left hand. It hurts to type, which is an important part of my job, but thankfully, I'm not scheduled to work again until Monday.

Maybe the buses should have seat belts.

virtues

My small group leaders asked us to come up with a list of virtues for our lives - a list of characteristics that will determine the choices we make, and therefore, the paths we take, regardless of emotion, circumstance, or pressure of pleasing others. Here's what I've come up with so far:

1. Practice forbearance, or patient endurance and self-control; abstaining from the enforcement of a right. According to Rob Bell, forbearance is an act of kindness where retaliation is expected. Basically: I will choose to love my enemies, do good to those who hate me, and pray for those who mistreat me because that is how Jesus loves.

2. Exercise modesty, but not in the way one might initially assume. Of course I will dress appropriately, but modesty is so much more than that. Modesty protects our purity - the hidden person of our hearts. It is a lack of pretentiousness, freedom from vanity and boastfulness, and a moderate estimate of one's own worth or importance.

3. Seek wise counsel. It is far too easy to make careless mistakes in life. Discipleship allows us to draw from the experience of those wiser than us, as well as share our mistakes with others so that they don't have to repeat them. This, of course, includes the Wisest Counsel of all [Who should be my first resort].

4. Foster compassion. I will protect my soft heart from becoming calloused by sharing in the heartache, pain, and sorrows of others. I will help them to bear their burdens and take the time to listen, even when, no, especially when it is inconvenient. When I can't sit through a geography lecture on genocide without tearing up, I won't get frustrated with myself. Rather, I will realize that such a reaction is a reflection of the heart of God.

5. Offer beauty. I will not be beautiful for vanity's sake, but rather serve those around me with my loveliness. I will be a life-giver, inviting my brothers and sisters into peace and encouraging them to enjoy life.

6. Be vulnerable. I will boast in my weaknesses and share my life with others. I will be open and honest with those around me, in hopes that Grace will be the resounding theme that those who listen to my story will be unable to ignore. I will make no apologies for who I am.

7. Exhibit bravery. In light of the fact that my middle name means "Lion of God," I will not fear new or unfamiliar things, but rather embrace them as adventures in which The Strong God will partner with me.

kirby.arielle.lee

Because I love Zion,
I will not keep still.
Because my heart yearns for Jerusalem,
I cannot remain silent.
I will not stop praying for her
until her righteousness shines like the dawn,
and her salvation blazes like a burning torch.
The nations will see your righteousness.
World leaders will be blinded by your glory.
And you will be given a new name
by the Lord’s own mouth.
The Lord will hold you in his hand for all to see—
a splendid crown in the hand of God.
Never again will you be called “The Forsaken City”
or “The Desolate Land.”
Your new name will be “The City of God’s Delight”
and “The Bride of God,”
for the Lord delights in you
and will claim you as his bride.
-Isaiah 62:1-4

I love the concept of Zion; apparently it used to refer specifically to a mountain near Solomon's temple in Jerusalem, the dwelling place of the Spirit of God, but over time its meaning expanded. Think about it: where is the dwelling place of the Spirit now? Hint:

"Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? -1 Corinthians 6.19

"For we are the temple of the living God." (2 Corinthians 6.16) I suppose that makes you and me, figuratively speaking, Zion. Curiously, my first name means "church settlement" (in Old Norse), "village where the church is" (in scandinavian), or, if you will allow the stretch, "Zion."

My dad named me, and while I'm certain these thoughts hadn't crossed his mind when he signed my birth certificate, I refuse to accept this as coincidence. My middle name, Arielle, is hebrew for "Lion of God." I guess that is where the whole fierceness thing comes from. The imagery alone sends chills down my spine, for the courage that He has called me to is already part of my identity. All that's left for me to do is test it out - be brave.

And then there's Lee.

"Always remember, there is nothing worth sharing
Like the love that let us share our name."
-The Avett Brothers, Murder in the City

Lee means "sheltered from the storm." How very fitting. Kirbylee, as my dearest friends often call me, literally means "church settlement sheltered from the storm."

I love my name. Thank you, big jim.

natural beauty

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most. We ask ourselves, "Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?" Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us. And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.
-Maryanne Williamson

This weekend, I co-taught a beauty/nutrition class at a middle/high school girls conference. I can't even tell you how much fun I had and how much I already love the girls in my small group. The only way I could bear to drag myself away from them yesterday was remembering that Disciple Now is less than two months away. In preparation for talking about beauty, I did a little introspection and an even smaller amount of research. I flipped through an old, thoroughly underlined book that I read, appropriately, in high school:

"In The Sound of Music, the Countess has Maria beat in the looks department, and they both know it. But Maria has a rare and beautiful depth of spirit. She has the capacity to love snowflakes on kittens and mean-spirited children. She sees the handiwork of God in music and laughter and climbing trees. Her soul is alive, and we are drawn to her." -Captivating, pg. 16-17

I also wrote this journal entry on 20 Janvier:

One of the very deepest longings of my heart is to be a natural beauty. I'm not sure precisely what that means, but I think its more than just not needing to wear makeup. In fact, I think that you can be a natural beauty and still wear makeup. I think it has more to do with demeanor than physical appearance. I want to feel beautiful - to make others around me feel it themselves. Beauty has a lot to do with confidence, and confidence, knowing the truth about yourself: the LORD created me; I am his masterpiece, his handiwork, his poetry, so of course he finds me beautiful. As if that knowledge wasn't enough, He is showing me who I am:

I love boxing movies and waking up early. I'm a cat person, a mountain-girl with a weak spot in her heart for banjo music, beards, and plaid. I like to make my friends laugh, and nights in with a small group of friends appeals to me so much more than a night out (unless you are talking about out-camping). I like to ride my bike in a skirt and I love cold weather and sweaters, although autumn is, without question, my favorite season, and November my favorite month. My favorite color is green - almost any shade except kelly. More recently, I have grown into my love for deep purple, or eggplant, if you will.

I don't really keep up with current events, and I'm not sure whether I will or not when I finish college. I'm learning to appreciate antiques, and I love fresh fruit and whole grain bread from the Publix bakery. I consider myself an accomplished granola-maker and I love dark chocolate. Spending time with my grandparents is very important to me and I love hearing their stories from different stages of life. I hug really hard and love even harder. I stopped using product in my hair a few months ago in an effort to move toward the whole "natural beauty" thing. I like it. At my mother's request, I started plucking my eyebrows last week, but the jury's still out on that one. I'm taining for a 10k right now, with the eventual goal of completing a half-marathon in the spring. I'm not a runner, so this is a challenge for me.

I know I've posted lists like this before, but the reason I share these things about myself is to encourage others to discover the intricate and purposeful details of their own identity. The LORD cares, for "even the very hairs on your head are all numbered." (matthew 10.30)

"This is what we are inviting you to: not to learn one more set of standards you fail to meet, not toward a new set of rules to live by and things you ought to do, something far far better - a journey of the heart, a journey toward restoration and release of the woman you always longed to be. It's about discovering who you already are, as a woman." -Captivating, pg. 19

As I told the girls this weekend, things like purity and modesty are vital in protecting the "hidden person of our hearts," but if we don't come to know who that hidden person is, we will underestimate our own worth, reducing purity/modesty to a seemingly pointless list of rules. If we ask Jesus to reveal to us just the tiniest glimmer of who we are in his eyes - just one or two quirks that make us so unique and beautiful - we will fight to guard the purity of our hearts: a process known is some circles as modesty.

round two

My sister Mallory just got accepted to North Georgia College and State University, which is where she's wanted to go, and where I think she will absolutely thrive. I am so excited for her. It's kind of weird because it doesn't seem like it was that long ago that I was in her shoes: trying to decide where to go to college and wondering what to study once I got there. When I was her age, I didn't know myself well enough to make a well-thought-out decision, and looking back, I feel pretty confident that God sort of shepherded me to UGA.

This is the place where I discovered [read: began discovering] who I am. This is the place that I found my major and have grown in my passion thereof. This is the place where I met my sister-friends. This is the place where I got to know Jesus a lot better than I ever have (it's difficult to keep that from happening when Someone rebuilds your broken heart...). This is the place where I've transitioned from "girl" to "young woman," as weird as that is to admit. This is the place where I realized that I really like climbing and yoga and aerobic dance.

Oddly enough, if I had known everything about myself that I've learned during my time at UGA when I was in high school, I never EVER in a million years would have chosen this school for myself. I have no doubt that this is where I was supposed to be over the last few years and for the next few months. But when May comes, I feel confident that I will be ready, not relieved, but equipped to peacefully accept the fact that the time has come to move on. The fun part is, I'm sort of getting a second crack at picking out a school that is a better fit for me.

I've submitted applications to UNC-Chapel Hill and Appalachian State University, and should hear back from them sometime in March.

Will keep you posted.

2008

2008 was a great year.

It was a year of firsts...
-first resolution kept.
-first vacation without parents.
-first time I really loved college.
-first international flight on my own.
-first time a boy I dated long ago (in high school) got married.
-first full year of consistent discipleship.
-first bachelorette party.
-first (second, and third) blind date.
-first time i flew on a plane that my dad was flying.
-first tattoo (yeah).

It was a year of lasts...
-last time i register for courses at UGA.
-last holiday season in Athens.
-last Audiology class.
-last roommate Christmas.

Looking back, I realize that I learned a lot about life in 2008, specifically, about enjoying life. Being happy is less about circumstances, whether good or bad, than it is about being flexible and rolling with the punches. It's about remembering to Hope. It's about getting to know people better -asking good questions and learning about who they are makes it virtually impossible not to grow in your love for them.

In 2008, I discovered music that made me want to dance or sing or turn the volume all the way up or put that one song on repeat. I learned to laugh at myself. I learned to let go of the desire to reinvent myself - to relax and just be still - to slow down and realize that there's no need to hurry. I learned to love my home and know that it will still be there for me no matter how far away I travel or how long I am away. I learned to see my fears as adventures and receive love from my friends and family.

I've learned that sometimes in life, your heart gets broken, but that often times, this very process sets you free. Even if it's not what wanted, it's important to see it for what it is: emancipation. Maybe if things never changed you would have been happy still, perhaps you're sure of that, even. That's me. But I know I wouldn't have taken a chance on all the adventures that 2008 held if things never changed. I might be happy, but I would certainly be a different, more boring person. So good comes from circumstances that seem like the end of the world to us. I suppose that's just the kind of God we serve.

old soul

Today I traveled back in time. Well, sort of. That's what it felt like, anyway. I went to North Hall to peek on the yearbook and visit my favorite teacher, Mrs. Shirley, a habit I've developed over the course of the past few years. This was the first year that I didn't recognize anybody, because all of the girls on staff were in middle school when I was editor, except the freshmen, who were in the fifth grade that year. As Mrs. Shirley introduced me to the staff, my mind wandered. I graduated from high school three years ago. So much has changed. But when did it happen? I don't remember suddenly growing up, and although I know I'm a much cooler person than I was at seventeen, it's still hard to believe that I'm all grown-up, or nearly so.

Everybody knows
It hurts to grow up
And everybody does
It's so weird to be back here.
Let me tell you what
The years go on and
Were still fighting it, were still fighting it.
-Ben Folds, Still Fighting It

As I listened to their carefree banter, I began to feel so... old. To be fair, I'd felt like a forty-year-old with really young friends all through high school, and even in college, I sometimes have a hard time relating to my peers. How did I expect to feel upon my return to the very room I spent the majority of my high school career in, what with this old soul of mine?

Everything seems to have changed: my taste in music, my sense of humor, my regard for others, my financial awareness, my hopes and fears, the focus of my academic and professional pursuits, my relationship with Jesus, you name it.

Three years doesn't seem like such a long time; it shouldn't be able to create such a vast chasm of age-difference, after all, two of my best friends are six years older than me, but these sweet teenage girls certainly did not feel like my peers. Don't get me wrong, most of the girls were juniors, which is the group I had at Disciple Now in March, and I loved spending time with them. They have such beautiful and sincere hearts, and I hope to move up with them this year, although I would love to have sophomore girls again. But I do not consider them my peers. I wouldn't seek accountability or solicit advice from them.

No, I've grown up. This makes me want to laugh when I think about how I skipped out to my car in the rain this morning in my hot pink gingerbread pajamas, pausing to splash in the puddles along the way. I can act so childish at times, but I think that being comfortable enough with yourself to act like a child is part of maturity.

The problem is, I don't really want to grow up.

switzerland

Tuesday was kind of glorious because I went to Switzerland with my dad. After catching up on a few hours of sleep, we ventured out, me in my cold gear and wool sweater, him in his flannel-lined cargo pants. Dad bought our tram tickets and we headed downtown for a pit-stop at Starbucks, where we took advantage of the Wi-Fi access for his iPhone over a couple of $4 cups of STRONG coffee. Next, we grabbed a couple of brats at the station before jumping on the train to the place where we could access the gondola that would whisk us up another couple hundred feet above sea level to the ridge overlooking the Zurich Sea.

At some point, perhaps en route to Starbucks or over lunch, dad asked if I still wanted to go hiking, despite the cold and the cloud cover that would potentially obstruct the typically picturesque view of the mountains all around us. Without hesitation, I answered yes (I am, after all, a mountain girl). Later, during our ascent in the gondola, we noticed that the trees were frosty, and the next minute, we burst into the sunlight, escaping the thick blanket of clouds. I knew I had made the right choice, and soon admitted to Big Jim that when I answered "yes" to his inquiry, I had this feeling that the Lord had something special planned for us.

We stepped off the platform and into Narnia. (gondola vs. magical wardrobe made from a tree planted with fruit from another world - what's the difference?) The ground was covered in a thin, but fresh layer of snow. The sun was shining, its rays penetrating the thickness of the forest in a dazzling kaleidoscopic fashion, while tufts of powdery white snow was falling all around us, dusting my hair and eyelashes. We began to follow the yellow diamond blazes that marked the wide trail, or Wanderweg, it you will, but couldn't make it more than twenty or thirty feet without stopping to snap a few photographs. I couldn't stop smiling and laughing and running to catch up with my dad after pausing to admire the tiny ice crystals that clung to only one side of a small tree - the side opposite the direction of the sun's warmth. Soon we even came upon a lamp post, and I turned around, half expecting to catch a glimpse of Mr. Tumnus peering out from behind a tree.

We walked past fields of snow and small farm houses. Occasionally, dad would abruptly stop and turn around, explaining that the best pictures are sometimes right behind you. We walked on in silence for a few moments and I thought about everything that I'd just experienced. It would have been nice to have a clearer view into the distance - to see the breathtaking snow-capped range surrounding us, but that's not what God had planned for us. Instead he surprised us with a sight that I like to think few people, or at least, few Georgians, have experienced: a little patch of snowfall in the midst of a sunny Swiss afternoon. Would I have appreciated the things so close to me if I had been distracted by things off in the distance? Perhaps, but probably no to the extent that I did. Life so often works in much the same way. The future is kept hidden from us so that we are better able to live - to truly live - in the present.

Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments,
and his paths beyond tracing out!
"Who has known the mind of the Lord?
Or who has been his counselor?"
"Who has ever given to God,
that God should repay him?"
For from him and through him and to him are all things.
To him be the glory forever! Amen.
-Romans 11:33-36

After a few hours, we came to a tower with an icy spiral staircase that we ascended with care. From the top, we had a more aerial view of at least the tops of the peaks around us, or at least those tall enough to tower above the vast foggy quilt covering the earth below us. A perfect afternoon.