Just For Laughs

Okay, so I get these Breaking News Updates from ABC that announce stories just minutes after it hits the wire (if you don't get them, I recommend signing up). Anyway, here's one I received today:

Breaking News from ABCNEWS.com:

SENATE APPROVES WAR FUNDING BILL WITH NO IRAQ WITHDRAWAL TIMETABLE,
BILL NOW HEADS TO WHITE HOUSE FOR BUSH'S SIGNATURE; CLINTON AND OBAMA
VOTED NO

Would two presidential candidates trying to run on an anti-Iraq War platform really vote yes? More pertinently, would Hillary really vote "yes" on anything related to the war after all the heat she got for her initial vote? I mean, ABC, is that really newsworthy? Just for laughs...

Doing the Right Thing

Sometimes, God allows—or gives us—situations that test our courage. To quote one of my favorite songs by Natalie Grant, we have to choose whether to love when we’d rather turn away; to give when we’re more inclined to take. How do you respond to those situations? I’m tempted to give in. Get upset. Feel incapable. But only for a second, because I remember who I belong to—One who knows my every thought, word and deed—before I do (Psalm 139); He crowns me with love and compassion (Psalm 103). There’s a reason He made me; I didn’t make Him.

An analogy will assist. At a conference last year a preacher talked about how the maker of a product decides its use. He said, somewhat matter-of-factly, that a refrigerator can’t cry about how it can’t toast a bagel, because it wasn’t made to do that. Likewise, God has a purpose for us—His “inventions”—that plays out in the little, everyday situations He allows—or creates. Some of these I get; others, it takes a while. But I don’t have to get everything, because I have always found, in retrospect, that not understanding everything that happens in my life does not materially affect it. Dwelling on the meaning of the things I’m unsure of, however, only confuses me, and makes me waste time wondering that would be better spent living.

And so I choose to live—to love others the best I can, to give of all the many things God has given me—to be Sunshine to the world (and yes, I know, I’m incredibly hold-hands-rock-back-and-forth-and-sing Kumbaya:)). But it works for me. Nobody can steal my joy. I’m much more interested in doing the right thing--God's thing.

Trust Is...

What does it mean to truly trust God? That’s a question I’ll be trying to answer for the rest of my life. Sure, I could give you a denotation, but what does trust actually look like? Also, how is the concept applicable to specific situations? Does it even differ based on situation? I’ve recently been comparing the areas where I am trusting God with the areas I’m not, and here’s an incomplete list of practical “trust traits” I’ve come up with to challenge my doubts:

• Trust is not praying for something, and then immediately going back to worrying about the thing you just prayed for, and then pausing to pray for it again, only to repeat the cycle.

• Trust is praying for something, and knowing He’ll answer. This sometimes means that you stop praying for something He hasn’t answered (or perhaps has), if the way you are praying causes you to doubt more; just ask God to work it out.

• Trust is not asking God to show you something, and then asking for a friend’s advice to balance things out.

• Trust is going to God for something and asking friends for advice that is matched up against God’s Word, or asking that they’ll pray for you to accept what He says, which leads into the next trust trait….

• Trust is accepting the answer God gives you, even if it’s not the one you want.

• Trust is being okay with waiting for an answer.

• Trust is understanding that if I’m in the will of God—meaning sins aren’t overtaking my life (in what I like to call a “Psalm 66:18” way)—I have absolutely nothing to fear.

• Trust is grasping the POWER of prayer, asking not in a James 4:1-3 way, but in a John 14:13; Mark 11:22-24; I John 5:14-15 way.

• Trust is knowing that although I’m a mess, and my fears get in the way, the more I do this trust thing, the more God works on me, and the better I get at it.

WHY I'M GRATEFUL

You might have noticed I haven’t blogged in a while. It’s mostly because I’ve been busy with the end of the semester. It’s also because what’s on my mind lately doesn’t fit neatly in online-diary format, and I don’t really want it to. But as I sat in front of my laptop struggling to focus on a paper I’ve been working on for far too long, I knew I needed to do something therapeutic to clear my head of all thoughts distracting. That’s when I decided to write this entry. It’s kind of a reflection on the many blessings in my life. I Thessalonians 5: 16-18 says, “Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.” Reflecting puts things in perspective; it humbles you, and makes you feel grateful despite the gripes you may have about life. I’m especially touched when people who have lost seemingly everything—their families, jobs, homes—can still say, “I’m grateful I’m alive.”

Would I say that?

I guess that isn’t a question I have to answer, at least not at the moment, because far more good is going on than bad. I guess I can even be grateful for the chance to write a 25-page paper for a class I really haven’t enjoyed, because it’s a just another task—another class—that’s going to help me get a degree that I know God will use in big ways. The following is an (incomplete) list of things I’m grateful for, expressed by a True Sap (with only five minutes of break time left)…

1. God’s goodness
• In a passage: Psalm 103.

2. Laughter
• It’s good medicine.

3. Sunshine
• It brightens my day. No joke.

4. Special People
• You know, friends, family, mentors and more…

5. Dreams
• They give goals life.

6. Good Food
• It stops me from complaining.

7. Passion
• It makes me put everything I have into…everything.

8. Education
• It's given me a chance.

9. Transportation
• Even though mine’s not the custom-made Volvo C70 I'll eventually own…

10. Things Unspoken
• In time, they’ll have a voice….

And now, the only way to end this entry...Call it tacky, but I can't resist: What are YOU thankful for?

What I Eat

I’m a Food Diva. That’s my way of saying I have supposedly “high” standards when it comes to food. Where most people dig into a dish and call it “delicious,” I will famously wrinkle my nose and declare, in a somewhat whiny, drawn-out voice, “it’s o-kayyy.” That doesn’t mean I think it’s horrible, but it does mean that, to borrow from my mom, the Food Diva Queen Bee (I’m just the Princess:)), it doesn’t have much of a taste (she would actually declare it has “no taste”). I guess part of my reaction comes from the fact that I’m a horrible liar—I can’t mask when I don’t like something to save my life—yet I also don’t really like to pronounce things—or people—as “bad” unless it’s especially horrible. I find that unnecessarily hurtful.

Although I’ll admit “diva” connotes snobbery, this blog is dedicated to putting a likable, understandable face on my choosy eating habits. After reading this, you’ll be closer to understanding—and speaking—my food language...

1. KNOW THE STAPLES.
There are really six ingredients from which most of my meals flow: pasta, boneless skinless chicken (baked or grilled, at times sautéed, but rarely fried), potatoes, cheese, bread and tortillas. That means that, on most days, I’m eating Italian or Mexican. When these are the choices, I usually find something I like without having to complain first. Exception: Taco Bell.

2. KNOW THE FLAVORS.
I’m cream sauce’s number-one fan (e.g. in pasta or soup), but, unfortunately, I’ve recently come to terms with the fact that most restaurants that make it don’t know about the secret found in number 8. I’ve recently switched to red sauces—or a combination of cream and red—because they’re just harder to mess up. Other flavors of fun are onions (red and white), garlic, celery and avocado. I also can’t live without a little cayenne pepper and pesto. Also throw in habanerro, but only a little.

3. FRESHNESS IS THE MANTRA.
I’m not into dieting; I’m more into lifestyle. Food in America is filled with so many preservatives, and I think avoiding them lets you get more out of your calories. (I’m not the organic/Whole Foods type, because there’s too much evidence “organic” is synonymous with “overpriced” and “minimal added nutritional value”). Also, in my opinion, fresh ingredients just taste better. The best cooks can throw it down with minimal grease (my mom is in that number). There are a number of stores and restaurants that actually make their own sauces, breads and pastas. If you look, you’ll find them.

4. SPARE THE RED MEAT.
It doesn’t taste bad—I’ll eat it on occasion—but, generally, I avoid it because just two or three bites of steak and the like makes me full for like, days. The only exception: ground beef—on a backyard grill or in a pasta dish.

5. PINK IS OUT.
a. All meat must be well done which, of course, speaks mostly to red meat. No exceptions. In my mind, blood just doesn’t belong in anything I digest. E. coli, anyone?

6. RECOGNIZE MY FAST-FOOD VICES.
Although I gave up eating fast food regularly in my early college years, there are a couple things you can tempt me to eat: a McDonald’s cheeseburger or a spicy chicken sandwich from Wendy’s (hold the mayo--aka “figure suicide.” They also say that about cream sauce, but I don’t believe it; add honey mustard and ketchup--few calories; great flavor). Note this point is assuming Chipotle doesn’t quite count as fast food. If it does, I’m not as principled as I may sound.

7. EXPAND THE NOTION OF “DINNER.”
I’m a true ice cream fan, which means I eat it religiously, even in winter when people are wimping out (you drink cold juice and water out of a fridge year-round, don’t you?) When I just get sick of food, dinner’s at Cold Stone.

8. LET ME COOK.
I’m willing to experiment in the kitchen, and get the dish just right. The secret to “taste”: chicken bouillon. In anything. Most people don’t use it—to their cooking detriment.

That’s all I have time for…The truth is, I’m simply a woman of standards; I’m not so much picky as I am…wisely choosy. I firmly believe in quality, and I know it when I taste it. Raise a glass (of water or 100% juice): to understanding what I eat.

On Worship

Recently I had been having trouble truly worshipping God. To reference an earlier blog, I had been going through “Godless periods of Godmotions.” I could spend time trying to define the many facets of worship, but I don’t feel compelled to do that. Instead, I’ll share how God brought me out of my latest slump by reminding me of this definition of worship: recognizing who He is, and thanking Him for it.

One way I’ve recently worshipped is by thinking about what He’s done for me. For a while, I had forgotten the many ways God has protected me over the years. However, I had a conversation with an old friend that reminded me of how God has kept me from making decisions that would have had disastrous consequences. We have many ways of referring to moments that steer us away from making a bad decision, or give us new insight. Oprah, and many others, call them “Aha” Moments, but I call them “Brick Moments”: God gives me an unmistakable sign that shows me what I’m missing. It’s kind of like being hit upside the head with something you can’t ignore—like a brick—hence, the name. These Brick Moments are one way that God has shown himself to me, and a reason I praise him.

There are two songs that I think exemplify what worship is. When I feel as though I’m not truly worshipping, I often take a cue from them. The first is “Meditate” http://www.christianlyricsonline.com/artists/out-of-eden/meditate.html by Out of Eden. I just do what the song says. Also, “Hear My Worship” http://www.uplyrics.com/jaime_jamgochian_lyrics_9342/hear_my_worship_lyrics_326836.html by Jaime Jamgochian exemplifies how I feel when I’m raw before God.

Finally, the Psalms are a wonderful reminder of how to praise God. David especially exemplifies the meaning of true worship: Even when he’s being chased by his enemies in the desert and feels deserted by God, he always ends his psalms by thanking God for who He is, and recognizing He will deliver him regardless of how the situation looks. One of my favorites is Psalm 103:http://www.ibs.org/niv/searchprovider.php?passage_request=psalm%20103 In this psalm, which I don' t think was written by David, the author is totally blessing God for who He is. The Psalms are really a God-given textbook on how to worship wholeheartedly.

Meditate on the lyrics and the psalm. They’re just full of worship.

Fewer Married With Children

Check out this article on marriagae through the lenses of race and class/educational background. Although it simply reinforces trends that have been reported for a while, it's still eye-opening...

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/03/03/AR2007030300841.html

To Ring, or Not to Ring?

Okay, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about my blog—and about me—but sometimes I like to get personal without getting personal. I’m open about how I feel about issues, but I avoid saying what led to those feelings through using phrases such as “certain situations” or “recent events.” Frankly, most of the time there isn’t a particularly juicy personal story behind the comments I make. But even if there were, I don’t want my life to be the focus of my blog—or anything I write—I want it to be on providing thought-provoking, and, I hope, entertaining comments on life lessons. I’m just not the self-promotional type.

At this point you’re probably wondering where all this fanfare is going. You’ve also likely figured out I’m about to get more personal than usual. Yes, I’ll be discussing an issue I can’t address without being more open: my decision not to have sex until marriage, commonly known as a commitment to abstinence.

People who have known me for years are well aware of my feelings on “this issue”; I’m a huge proponent of it. One of my goals is to publish a book about it for teenage girls, which I’ve started, and maybe sequels for the general public and young adults. But despite my enthusiasm for it, sometimes I’m hesitant to share my thoughts outside my comfort circles. However, I recently joined an online group for people committed to the cause that got me thinking about why I can be so hesitant to discuss something I’m supposedly so passionate about.

My biggest fear is not so much what people may call me—I haven’t had a problem being referred to as a “sexually repressed prude”—I’m more concerned with how it will affect people’s perceptions of how I view them. A study recently released showed more than 90% of (adult) Americans have had sex before marriage ( See http://abcnews.go.com/US/wireStory?id=2738640 ). Although the accuracy of this statistic can be debated, it is fair to say that more people than not are having sex—including people who don’t believe in having it. Thus, I avoid using terms such as “Purity Commitment” because I fear—and have actually had people say—that such comments implicitly mean that anyone who has had sex outside of marriage is “dirty”—which is a total mischaracterization of my opinion that I am more than happy to avoid.

I’m also afraid people will think they can’t relate to me, and ignore what I have to say about sex—and “other related issues” (okay, let me stop). As you might know, when people find out you’re a virgin in your mid-twenties, adverse reactions abound. The comment is usually met with skepticism, the next question being “well, if you haven’t had sex, what have you done?” and then my answer to that question starts another firestorm.

But truthfully, I shouldn’t be afraid to share my commitment--which I also call a testimony--in uncomfortable situations. It doesn’t mean I need to declare I’m a virgin just because, but it should mean that when I’m given the opportunity to share my experience I shouldn’t shy away.

One reason I’m so passionate about discussing abstinence is my criticism of the Christian community’s approach to addressing premarital sex, which often hinders children from making biblical commitments to abstain. They are often taught, indirectly, that singleness is a miserable state that needs to be quickly transcended so that marital bliss—and, apparently, hot-steamy sex—can begin. As a result, so many never really experience the true joy of abstaining; they see abstinence in terms of a list of what physical acts can—or cannot—be done to still stay in the “pure” category. Questions such as “Is oral sex okay?” or “how much clothing can I take off?” dominate discussions about abstinence. Even the term “abstinence” (which I hate, but use for lack of a more universal term, as I’ve said before), focuses on the act of not having sex—not on what refraining from having sex should mean.

The real way to look at a biblical commitment not to have sex isn’t “what am I missing?” but, rather, “what am I gaining?” This means that for every physical act I choose not to do outside of marriage--sex being seen only as the outer limit--I am gaining something higher—at least in a spiritual sense. As has been said many times, God designed sex to be an expression of unconditional love to a person He has provided for you in marriage, which is also the ultimate human commitment to another person on earth, and a symbol of the love God has for His children (Ephesians 6:25). I also see “abstinence” as a critical way to show a commitment to God rather than the world (Galatians 5:19-25). By not having sex, I don’t feel I’m depriving myself of pleasure (an evanescent kind, at best); I see it as being willing to settle for nothing less than true love both in and out of a bedroom—or no sex.

The online group I joined recently reminded me of an inner debate I’ve been having about whether to celebrate my commitment with a purity ring. In the past I was skeptical of getting one because too often I’ve seen them displayed as empty symbols that are hastily purchased and soon discarded by people who don’t understand the gravity of the commitment. But after learning so many lessons about what the choice actually means, and soldering through the hormonal teenage years and the “Hook-Up Central” that is college by God’s grace, I know that with Him I can overcome any sexual temptation—even “love.” A ring, then, would be a symbol of my testimony.

This blog is my first step to being more open about my commitment—where God calls me to be…so, should I get a chastity ring? I think you’re about to see one on this woman’s finger.

The Unveiling of the 25-Year Plan: My (Proposed) Path to Owning It at 50

Some of you have heard me talk about it, perhaps what you thought was in jest. But no, I’m serious: My 25th Birthday is really the start of something Big—my 25-year Plan.

Sunday will mark my Quarter-Century year on earth—kind of. Not to be technical, but, as I learned in dreadful Property class last year, your birthday is actually the first day of your next year—in my case, my 26th year. But I’m sure even if you knew that you don’t really care, and, quite frankly, it pretty much messes with conventional modes of expressing birthday cheer (“happy first day of your 26th year” sounds terrible). ANYWAY, another reason this year is significant is that it’s halfway to 50, a year many people—especially women—dread.

We all kind of know why people don’t like it: it begins the “Golden Years,” a euphemistic category for Senior Citizenhood—okay, fine—Old People Status. It says “aging” in a way “the new 20”, age 40, didn’t. It’s more closely associated with weight gain, significantly grayer hair, impending retirement, poor bowel movements, and, also unlike the 40s, universal menopause, to name a few measures of doom. And somehow, those 10% Tuesday discounts at department stores and restaurants are but a small consolation for those who wear the Old Person Badge.

But does 50 really have to be viewed with such morbidity? I, my friends, say no. And, as one of America’s Sweathearts said on her supposed day of doom, on my 50th Birthday (or the start of my 51st year, whichever you prefer), I want to be able to throw my hands up, look to my left, look to my right, flip my vibrant, flowing hair, pause for a moment, then scream at the top of my lungs, “I’M FIFTYYYYYYYYYY!!!!” (I’m referencing Oprah, by the way).

Okay, so maybe I’m getting a little carried away, but the point is, we don’t celebrate aging—age—enough. We think impending death, when we should be thinking delight. If you make it to 50, you will have survived many things—childhood milestones, adolescent adventures, the roaming 20s, the more stable thirties, the fabulous 40s and now—another decade to look forward to, all with a kind of wisdom that can only be gained with many years of life experience. Proverbs 16:2 says, “Gray hair is a crown of splendor, it is attained by a righteous life.” Proverbs 20:29 also says, “The glory of young men is their strength, gray hair the splendor of the old.” There is certainly a correlation between years and understanding that we in our 20s just haven't seen yet.

I guess this stump for old age is more appealing to an older audience, but I sing the praises of those fifty and over to make this point: when we reach that milestone, we have more control over who we are than we would like to admit. A major reason people feel so depressed at 50 is because they’ve done so many things since 25 that they could have done without: cemented poor eating habits from childhood, didn’t plan for the future until it came, abandoned close friendships for frivolous reasons (like the guy or girl who split after a year of “forever”)—just generally chose not to improve the things they couldn’t stand about themselves, and made age the scapegoat. But I do not want to be in that number. Here are a few elements of my avoidance strategy, known as the 25-year plan:

• Eat Healthier
I’m not the biggest junk-food eater, but I can do better. This will be
a gradual one, with more refined goals each year
• Establish a workable exercise routine
• Communicate (e.g. email, phone, facebook) with good friends in far places once a month
• Plan a yearly get-together with the girls from far and wide
• Stay on budget
• Jumpstart my writing/journalism career
• Learn how to do my hair
• Be open to God changing my plans:)

These are, again, just a few of the things I plan to do on my path to celebrating 50, but I think it’s a good start. The key, of course, is continuity; the plan must be a lifestyle.

Granted, it’s impossible to avoid some aspects of aging—increased risk for disease, more difficulty doing everyday things and—most sadly—the death of loved ones we would have lived with for so long. But, much as we often hear even now, the trials we experience do not have to define adversely who we are—at any age.

…so God willing, if I’m alive in 25 years, I won’t be afraid to scream “I’M FIFTYYYYY!!!!” at the top of my lungs. But in the interim—the lonnnggg interim—ask how my 25-year plan is going…

You Can’t Do God Without God

What does it mean to “do God?” It’s what you might think: being regularly involved in a number of God-centered activities. If you “do” God, each week you probably go to church, Bible Study, Prayer group, or Christian Club “X” at work or school. Oh, and you probably fast, at least once in a while. Chances are you don’t do these things merely for ritual or show—if you're spending that time, you likely want genuinely to grow in your relationship with God—and may even desire to see others do the same. But, as those who follow this pattern know, you can go through the Godmotions but not be focused on Him at all.

There are times when I feel my relationship with God is really progressing. During these periods, I’m having meaningful Godmotions: I’m worshipping Him in some way during most hours of the day. I listen to a Christian song on the radio, and I start singing aloud, praising from my heart. I do my quiet time—or listen to a sermon—and feel so energized. I walk—anywhere—through the halls at school, down the street, and I think about God’s goodness; I completely feel His presence. Those are wonderful times.

But then I have God-less periods of Godmotions. I’m listening to the same Christian songs on the radio, or I’m praying, etc.,—pick your motion—but my mind starts wandering, and I think about everything but God. How much work I have to do. Who I saw today. Who I didn’t see. What I watched. What I read. What I need to do. When I feel this way, I don’t wonder whether God exists—He’s shown me too much of Himself for me to doubt that He is—but I do wonder why I’m not focusing on the One I say I love so much.

The answer can be a myriad of things, but the usual culprits are worry, fear, or just plain busyness. I’ve prayed about something, and I feel frustrated because He’s not answering the way I want Him to. Or, I keep pushing back my quiet time for whatever reason, because, say, I ran into friend y and ended up not reading for class, and I know I have to because last class the teacher was eyeing me as if to say, “you’re next.” But other times, I seemingly can’t explain my lack of desire.

What do you do when you seem to lose that longing? It’s tempting to stop trying to get out of that place, especially when you feel like you’re trying and nothing is changing. But if you truly believe what God’s promised in His Word—never to leave you, to reveal Himself when you seek him—that everything He says He does—all you can do is continue seeking. As that famous quote goes—“If God seems far away, guess who moved?”

It also helps to know that it’s impossible to hide a single thing from God, so you might as well stop humoring yourself and let it out. As Psalm 139:7-12 says:

Where can I go from your spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there. If I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me; your right hand will hold me fast. If I say ‘surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me.’ Even the darkness will not be dark to you, the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

It also helps just to ask God to show you—a “heart cleansing” of sorts. I like this prayer from Psalm 139: 23-24:

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Point out anything in me that offends you, and lead me along the path of everlasting life.”

Finally, getting out of the “pit” may require understanding that you just need to keep growing to get past those days. If you really felt a fire for God at every moment, it would probably mean that you had Enoch or Methuselah Status (look them up if you need to:)).

Godmotions are great--if they’re done with God.

Take Him at His Word

“If you have questions about what God is doing in your life, continue to trust Him and seek clarity through prayer and His Word.”
~Excerpt from Our Daily Bread, http://www.rbc.org/odb/odb.shtml

Lately, there are situations in my life that I’ve been struggling to give God completely. I’ve certainly committed them to Him from the beginning, and felt Him leading in certain directions—and still leading those ways. But then something happens to shake my confidence in what He’s told me. It makes me wonder whether I’ve misinterpreted Him, or whether He’s steering me another way. But every time I start to doubt, God gives me the assurance that I should stand firm--whether he uses an incident or His Word. Most recently, it was this quote from yesterday’s Our Daily Bread, a collection of daily short devotionals accompanied by scripture passages. Through these situations, He’s showing me how essential it is to constantly give Him everything I am—my plans, my actions—everything. That’s when worry stops, and character grows.

Where would I be without Him? I really don’t want to know.

If you don’t think God cares, try giving Him your deepest desires. Not just for a day or two, but for months—then years. When you give something to Him for an extended period of time—meaning, you constantly pray for His will in a situation, trusting that only He can give you the best outcome--you see Him work, and you gain the confidence to give more things to Him. It doesn’t mean you don’t ever doubt, but it does mean that doubt dwindles.

Dare to take Him at His Word. Everything He says, He does. I don’t know anyone else who can be that good to me.

Ode to the Crush

The Crush. If you’re human, you’ve had at least one. Thoughts of a “crush” take me back to elementary school, about the time I first realized that I could like boys despite the generally held belief that those of the opposite sex had the contagious, debilitating disease called cooties. But the truth is, even long after those years, the crush doesn’t change much.

Although some believe a crush can exist even after formal romantic interaction is initiated (meaning, a date—or date equivalent, depending on your philosophy), I define it as the period before this occurrence. There are four main “crush” situations that emerge after you first realize you are romantically interested in someone. You find yourself liking another while 1) either aware or 2) unaware whether the other person is interested; or 3) aware that the other person has declared a lack of interest, yet you persist in your interest and admire either from afar—or up close (e.g. stalking); or 4) the other person has declared a lack of interest, but you fail to realize it and continue to like the other person in quiet.

The crush is a very vulnerable state. Perhaps that’s why as you pass grade school years, you most likely learn how to get past it—you quickly find out if the person is in a relationship (if you’re wise, you know that means at least for now, the person is off limits), or you take the bold route and ask the person out, or both. The point is, you just dive in somehow to get past the wondering. But despite the fact that with time most people become more adept at overcoming the period of emotional uncertainty that defines the crush, there are those times when, well, for a number of reasons, you just kinda hang out in the crush state.

I’ve both seen and experienced the extended crush. Sometimes, you just get into a situation that somehow makes it comfortable, at least for a while, not to do anything about it. Sometimes it’s for a legitimate reason—you like someone you know you shouldn’t, you don’t feel God leading you in that direction, you don’t want to mess up a friendship—but sometimes, it’s either not legitimate for you to stay there—or, a combination of the two. The more you like someone without doing anything about it, the harder it can get to do something about it. Then, the crush becomes a crutch, and a saga ensues.

There’s no real conclusion to this conversation; just like how the end of an extended crush is indefinite. But at some point, it has to end.

Thoughts on Fall 2006

It’s been a while, but I’m back to reflect on my semester. It was hectic, challenging, and full of more life lessons—some I’m still learning at the moment.

Before the semester started, I had all these expectations about how it would go—academically, professionally and personally. Academically and professionally, things did not turn out the way I expected. There were more bumps, turns and twists than anticipated. But I also realized that the unexpected came from me going to God with a plan and expecting him to pre-approve it, rather than going to Him open, knowing that He would direct me where I needed to be. I’m happy to say that midway through the semester I corrected my error, and ended up where I wanted to be—but with a better understanding of God’s grace, mercy, and a kind of spiritual and personal growth that only He can give.

Sometimes I feel I’m spinning wheels—like God is having to teach me the same lesson over and over again. But on the other hand, I think that with each lesson I learn about trusting Him, I conquer a different manifestation of doubt. And from that perspective, the number of situations in which I have difficulty trusting God have dwindled. I think that for the personal, I’ve accepted that--with some exceptions. With 2007 just days away, I know that the more I fix my eyes where they need to be, the more wonderful a year I’ll have. That’s a blessed assurance.

I'm Devastated

I've always had a thing for television newsmen. It's the journalism connection; I love a guy who can moderate a symposium, conduct a good interview or emcee an event. I can't list any television favorites per se, but there is one newsman who has always stood out: Tavis Smiley. He has such a unique way of expressing himself, and asks amazing questions. Not only has he been on my list of people to meet for years, I'll also admit that for years I've had this HUGE crush on him. And, in my far-fetched field of dreams, I've fantasized about us meeting and falling passionately in love (but not at first sight; I believe only in infatuation at first sight). Anyway, I recently watched him being interviewed on C-SPAN and had my heart broken when I heard some horrible news: Tavis confessed to being "close" to marriage.

He didn't give many details. He was discussing his book What I Know for Sure, released in October. It's about his life lessons. The interviewer asked where he was in life now; particularly, whether he would be getting married in 2007. Although he didn't agree with the time forecast, he did say "we are getting close" to that point. I didn't even know he was in a relationship! Friends and I had debated whether he was gay. I had never believed it, and held out hope that my belief would count for something. At least in a way I've been vindicated, and I may even be owed a lunch or two. But being right provides only small solace. Now that my prince is taken, I guess it's back to reality. I suppose I can give the common man a chance...

Goodbye Blog, Until the Next Holiday...

I am saying bye to my blog—for at least a few months. Earlier this week, as I said farewell to the wonderful people I worked with during my internship, I realized I have a list of things I meant to do this summer to prepare for the fall that I've barely touched. I've been having too much fun, and now I have to get focused...that means less internet-induced distractions: less blogging (although I haven't done so that much recently--it's more the mindset), less chatting, less email, less evenings out--less everything but my fall "To Do" list. (sigh) And I had so much more to say...But again, it is still summer, so if you know me, you'll still see me around...

I may unload on this page once in awhile, but as of now I'm decommissioned until December. But before I end this post for real-for real, I have to reflect on what I've learned this summer about God, myself and others. I'll get a little personal, if I may...

WHAT I'VE LEARNED
I've learned that good friendships weather time and distance, and are to be treasured. From my internship, I’ve learned how important it is for teens-especially young girls--to understand what a good relationship is, so they know to settle for nothing less...I've been reminded how blessed I am to have a drama-free family...that sometimes I shouldn’t go shopping when I have no income, even if there’s a really good sale...that by the time I'm forty, I may need to be tube-fed for lack of food that meets my diva standards... But most importantly, I've learned that sometimes I need to be reminded to let God be enough. I can't always plan, I can't always know, I can't always do, I can't always see beyond what's in front of me. It's a lesson I think I'll be learning my entire life, and one I hope you remember too.

...so until the next time, however long it may be...I hope you enjoy the rest of your summer, and are reminded that whether life brings laughs, sadness, joy or pain, only one person (to take away the mystery--God) knows what will happen next, and for that reason, He deserves all of me, and all of you...I know that was very Hallmark, very Kumbaya---but that's just me: I love a poignant, heartfelt word...Anyway, I'm officially signing off...

Transportation Woes

Have you ever gone from (having) a car to no car? It’s really really rough, especially when you don’t have a Metro within walking distance of your home. Welcome to my summer.

I’ve actually been without a car for the last year, after the one my parents had informally given me was totaled last summer by someone who shall remain nameless (It’s not me, although I did once get into an accident under humorous circumstances. It was the summer after freshman year of college and a friend and I were on our way back to my house after sneaking out to avoid a long, boring family meeting. We were deep in conversation, and she said something I totally agreed with. Showing my enthusiasm, I replied, “Yes, Yes, YES!” as I made a left turn onto what I thought was another street. However, I actually knocked into a median, bending the axle of the front left tire. It cost $2,000 to replace. The mechanic told my parents he thought someone had jumped a curb trying to make a U-turn. That wasn’t too far off from what actually happened, so I’ve allowed that story to stick. I’ve never been very spontaneous, and I’m easily consumed by guilt, so I don’t think I’ve ever had the gumption to sneak out before a family meeting since.)

ANYWAY, it wasn’t so bad not having a car before the summer because 1) I was living in an apartment right by the Metro, which was also a seven-minute ride from campus and 2) during the school year all I really did was go to class, study a lot and sleep a little. When summer rolled around and I moved back home, however, I really started to feel the hassle of not having wheels.

WEEKDAY WOES
The struggle of being in suburbia without a car varies with the chosen activity. Socially, I’ve largely managed because I either meet people in the city or request a ride from a friend, but I can’t do that when I go to my internship each morning. That experience is the source of my woes…

In the morning I get dropped off at the Metro, and it's a good half-hour ride into the city. Not too bad, but on the way back I have to take a 10-minute bus ride from the Metro to my house. Anyone who’s ridden the bus can testify---it’s a bizarre experience, mostly because of the people…

Usually when people have smiles on their faces you can assume they’re naturally cheerful, or are just excited about something. When people smile on the bus, however, you know they’re crazy, and about to bust out with something to confirm it, such as “Mommy, can I trim the Christmas tree and open my presents?” The problem is, it’s like, July, and the person is forty years old with a dusting of gray hair (True story).

And as I’ve said before, I’m disgusted by the significant increase of sexual harassers in the summer. I particularly detest the ones on the bus, who play that let-me-stare-at-you-mumble-and-lick-my-lips nonsense. In those scenarios I’m not only about to barf, I’m also fearing for my life, because the odds are the creep is crazy!

And then there’s Sunday mornings... On Saturday nights I like to do the usual: hang out with friends. However, this summer I’ve had to come home kind of early because I have to ride to church with my parents, who try to get there an hour before service starts. That means I actually lose two hours of Sunday-morning sleep. My other choices? Go to another church with one brother or get to church really late with the other. Hence, I bite the bullet.

THE UP SIDE?
Despite my woes, I do have to admit there is a bright side. Through riding with my parents on Sunday mornings I’ve actually made them happy. They’ve been feeling a little neglected by their other two children who have cars, although sometimes I can’t tell whether they’re laughing at my predicament, or they’re excited to see me, or both… Either way I’ve recently been dubbed “pseudo-only child” for being the only one to hang out with them.

Another really really good thing? I’m getting a car in a few weeks...(sigh) but only in time for school, when my love fest with the law library resumes…So if you haven’t given me a ride this summer, now is the time to be a friend…

Summer Gripes

I use the word love freely. I love that song; I love that food, I love those shoes; I love those clothes; I love that person. But sometimes, I like to talk about what I don’t like—or even hate. Here are some things that bug me about summer. They are not in ranking order (it’s not that serious).

THE EXPONENTIAL INCREASE OF (MALE) SEXUAL HARASSERS
They line sidewalks, fill up restaurants and loiter at movie theaters hoping to score/get some/hit it, etc., with anonymous women who pass them. Yes, the fact that people are wearing less clothing does have something to do with the upsurge in creeps, but I also think guys use summer as an excuse to be all over women in a way they couldn’t justify during other seasons. Personally, I will never find random low lives calling me “baby-chocolate-sexy, etc.,” flattering, and if you do, I think you need to love yourself a little more—you’re fearfully and wonderfully made, after all.

I’ll also admit, however, that a small-but-solid contingent of nice, upstanding men tends to appear in summer as well—but that’s only a small consolation compared to the much larger number of ineligibles. My advice, ladies, is remember what you learned in elementary school: boys (which would include physically grown men who sexually harass by engaging in catcalling and other disrespectful attempts to pick up women) have cooties, and if you get too close to them, you will catch whatever it is they’re spreading. Stick with men.

BIKINIS
I just don’t like them. To elaborate, I would need much more space. Maybe I will later.

HEAT AND HUMIDITY
The muggy summer Washington weather makes me feel all sticky and in need of, like, three showers a day. Also, I don’t like the sun trying to mess with my skin tone. I like it how it is.

TOURISTS
They cover the National Mall; clog up the Metro. And they don’t know about the stay-on-the-right-side-of the-Metro escalator-if-you’re-not-going-to-walk-up-it Code (If you know me, you’re aware I always keep it moving, so I never stand on the escalator. I can only say “excuse me” politely so many times. When I find myself starting to get snippy, I have to take a deep breath, sigh, and resign myself to standing.)

Also, I’ve never understood why tourists take pictures of subways cars. Even if you’re from Walla Walla, Washington, and you’ve likely never seen one live, are they really that memorable? I mean, are your friends and neighbors seriously going to be fascinated when you tell them they’re looking at a blurry picture of a moving train?

SUMMER FLINGS
This is a tangential gripe to the sexual harassers comment. On a more serious note, people often find the need to be in relationships for the summer “just for fun” , or to pass time. Far too often, they end poorly. Not that it can’t lead to more, but I think there’s a definite difference in the outcome when there is an intent to have a summer fling and when you just happen to meet someone in the summer. Okay—I feel the legal jargon coming out, so let me stop… Anyway, I think the quest for a summer fling hits at a deeper, disturbing issue--our often insatiable desire to be with someone even if it comes at a price. Relationships shouldn’t be forced. If the only summer relationship option you have is a fling, there are plenty of other valuable, rewarding ways to spend your time that you won’t later regret…See old friends, family, work on a cause, travel…the possibilities are limitless…

SAYING GOODBYE
Every summer, someone near and dear to me leaves good old MD for a new city and a new state. This year it’s some of my closest girls---I’ve already blogged on this in my “To My Girls” entry. Again, to my lovely friends who are off to wow other parts of the country with their grace, intelligence, and creativity, Godspeed.

TO BE CONTINUED…
I know there’s so much more to hate, but coming up with this gripe list has been kind of draining; as I said before, I’m a lover, not a hater:)(evident in the number of times I use the smiley face. I still don’t think I know what the frown symbol is--:(--am I right?). Maybe my next entry will be about what I love. I guess you’ll have to see…

The Metro Will Eat Your Purse

Okay, you know how people rush to get on the Metro as the doors are closing and stick their bags in the door to stop them? This is a friendly reminder not to do that.

This morning, some guy dressed in a fancy suit with a fancy briefcase made that mistake. In his case, both his arm and bag got stuck in the door. The conductor promptly reopened the doors to free his arm, but his bag dropped into the train car without him.

Because I was by the door, I tried to get his attention to quickly let him know that I would be taking his bag to Metro Center, but he didn’t look my way. Another guy across the aisle from me ended up grabbing the bag, but made no attempt to alert the owner he was doing so. That worries me. I tried to ask him what he was going to do with it, but a flood of Metro riders entering at the next station boxed me in.

But again, the lesson: The Metro does not care about you; they want your money, not your praise (have you checked out the Washington Post series on Metro incompetence? I think it was printed last summer. If you haven’t, google/Westlaw/LexisNexis it. What you read may shock you.). Beware: the system will steal your stuff.

Lessons from J School

“I’ll call you. I promise.”

Although those infamous words are generally linked to stories about someone, usually a guy, failing to call a date as promised, to me those words have a different meaning. After my experience as a journalism major in college, the words “I’ll call you I promise” are a reminder of having to pursue relentlessly sources who broke promises to call back.

In journalism school students are often taught one of the best ways to land a job after graduation is to seize as many internship opportunities as possible. But even for those like myself who did not plan to go into journalism and didn’t care about having plum internships, we got our heavy dose of “living in the reporter’s shoes” through assignments from teachers and college newspaper editors. We had to write numerous stories, which inevitably involved having to seek out sources.

I quickly found the source-gathering process is the best and worst thing about journalism. On the one hand, through interviewing you meet intriguing people who are accommodating and helpful.

On the other hand, you meet people who want to make reporting more difficult than it has to be. There is something about being interviewed that often makes people feel suspicious and paranoid. It’s a distrust that often transcends race, religion, color, creed or background. It’s also the dichotomy of the public’s relationship with the press; although people read the newspaper, watch the news and listen to it on the radio, they are often unwilling to help the news media they patronize (whether they’re willing to call it “patronization” or not).

There are a number of theories that may explain the public’s behavior toward journalists. One is the perception that the journalist’s motive is always to shed false light on someone for personal gain. I have seen this theory manifest numerous times.

As a college senior I covered debates hosted by student organizations. After one of them, I asked a group’s president for an interview. However, she told me her answers would come with a condition.

“I learned in a class once that journalists try to make people sound bad by putting their comments word-for-word in stories, so you’re not supposed to do an interview unless they promise to clean up your quotes,” she said matter-of-factly.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing; at the time, her response was a first. Using my inside voice, I calmly replied,

“Actually, it’s not very journalistic for me to clean up quotes, so I’ll just ask someone else.” As a turned to leave, she stopped me with a shout. Gaining a newfound confidence in my ability to portray her fairly, she said,

“Uhh-no, that’s okay; I’ll do the interview…I trust your judgment.”

It’s amazing how many opinions would change in about thirty seconds.

Then there were others who fall under the “I’ll call you I promise category.” These are the folks who agree to an interview, but during it get asked a question they can’t immediately answer. They promise to get back to you promptly with an answer, but never end up doing so without a little hounding. By the time you finish grilling them, they’re wishing you had never called them in the first place.

The forgiving rationale for such behavior is that people genuinely want to help, but are just so busy they forget. The more cynical explanation is that during or after an interview, they get this epiphany that they are unnecessarily taking time out of their workload to help someone else do his or her job. Forget my promise; the reporter can find someone else, they reason. However, ‘finding someone else’ is not the ideal situation on deadline. A teacher of mine said it best: When reporting, “trust no one.”

And there were still others who decide to be interviewed, but are extremely difficult about the terms of their service. They ask to preview all questions, which must be typed in Times New Roman, 10-point font, one-inch margins. They also request a faxed copy of the article “before it goes to print”-even if it’s just a homework assignment.

Although I don’t plan to be a journalist per se—I’m more interested in using my journalism skills in law and other fields-- I have an appreciation for the amount of tolerance and hard work it takes to be in the profession. People wonder why journalists can be pushy when trying to get an interview. I now understand that it’s because they have the important job of informing the public about what goes on in their communities and beyond, but the public doesn’t always see the importance of aiding them in the process. The situation in Iraq illustrates the fact that the news media have an invaluable role, and cooperation from the public would be much appreciated.

Granted, journalists don’t always use the best tactics to obtain information or report on everything “objectively”, especially regarding racial issues. Blacks are most often shown in evening news mug shots, but not interviewed as experts, which clearly needs to change. Two major parts of the problem are the lack of minority representation in news, especially in key locations such as the Washington Press Corps (reporters who cover the White House), and, within the profession, the general lack of understanding of how to train journalists, who are mostly white and middle class, how to be sensitive to racial and cultural issues (although I argue everyone needs some form of diversity training, but some need more than others). Unity Journalists of Color, which includes National Associations for Black, Hispanic, Native American and Asian Journalists, are working to correct these problems. Also, news organizations such as Knight Ridder, one of the most diverse with a “Diversity. No excuses” motto, and, ironically, Fox News, are making serious efforts to diversify news media. However, more profession-wide efforts are needed.

But journalism’s shortcomings do not completely explain the way journalists are treated. I have interviewed plenty of people my own race who have displayed the same attitude toward journalists as people of other races. People of all backgrounds are also quick to make usually unsupported statements such as “the media doesn’t know the power they have” and “the media doesn’t care about people.” Actually, most people who go into journalism don’t do so for selfish reasons—they do it for the love of the pen and telling others’ stories. And, as a result of being journalists, they actually do become more racially and culturally sensitive (also confused with being “loose and liberal”). I would dare say that, for the most part, journalists deserve much more credit than they receive.

What can you take from my comments? Don’t be so quick to label journalists as “unfair.” Know that although they aren’t perfect, you shouldn’t always assume the worst in reporters. Also, don’t look at the media as one large, unified group. Media, after all, is plural for medium; it’s media are, not media is (which also invalidates comments such as the “media doesn’t”). There are sports journalists, entertainment journalists, and hard news reporters (e.g. CNN, Washington Post, Newsweek). Not everyone has the same goal—some forms of journalism are clearly more noble than others. As a journalism student trained in hard news reporting, I’m partial to that form of journalism, so even I have to catch myself and see beyond the negative societal stereotypes targeting reporters generally. And one more thing…

If you’re ever in a situation where you’re tempted to decline being interviewed by a journalist for no good reason, or if you utter the words “I’ll call you I promise” during an interview, think about whether it would kill you to actually do it.

Strange Happenings in the Life of Seyi

I’m a magnet for strange occurrences. A partial explanation is that I’m both almost always in a hurry and lost in thought, so I tend to miss things like walls or steps in front of me. Some of these strange happenings, however, can’t be explained. Slipped on a banana and gone flying, head first into someone’s butt? That was eighth grade. Walking to class in broad daylight when hot, liquidy bird poop lands on my nose? Freshman year of college. Telling people to shut-up while on my cel phone in my sleep? Done that. I even had a squirrel run up my leg sophomore year. In the grand scheme of weird occurrences in my life, the one I am about to tell you is only slightly memorable. However, you may find it amusing…

I was in Ikea with my roommate. We were looking at some cheap picture frames when we heard this loud voice say “There’s a monkey on my back, there’s a monkey on my back.” We turned toward the noise, and who did we see? None other than Iyanna from Road Rules Season 8, Semester at Sea (Other notables from the season: Veronica, Yes (yes, he was fine—tacky, I know, but I can’t help myself; he was:)) and Sean (kinda cute, but no Yes:)). She was telling her companion a story.

I don’t want to say too much about Iyanna, but I will comment that, at least on television, she was portrayed as a….well…nut job. To refresh the memories of Road Rules and Battle of the Sexes watchers, a quote from Iyanna: “All I wanted was just one of y’all---to have my back!” (That’s the only one I can think of. I also vaguely remember consistent bouts of thrashing, crying and yelling). It’s fair to say she ranks among the top five most volatile Road Rules cast members, which is no small feat considering the cast selection. (And you know MTV has hit an all-time low on the latest season of the Real World by airing the therapy sessions of an anorexic cast member with a host of emotional issues. Someone with so many personal problems should not have been cast. MTV has exploited cast members for years—that’s the essence of its reality television, but this is by far the sickest form.)

Perhaps you don’t find me running into Iyanna worth discussing; after all, she did go to Howard undergrad and likely lives around here. But at the same time, to hear some random person yelling “There’s a monkey on my back” in Ikea and turn around and it’s a crazy person from reality TV…I think that’s just enough to rank as an officially weird occurrence. I actually kind of wonder whose monkey it was, and what it was doing on her back…