Possibility

Well. I sit here all by myself and I can’t help but think about the possibilities ahead. Most days, that’s all I can fathom. Possibilities. The mystery, the beauty, the hope – all intertwined and twisted into that one word “possibility”. And it feels so lovely to me. Purposefully, I allow my imagination to swim and brim over with thoughts, ideas, quiet desires, secret hopes…possibilities.

Life is an immense possibility to me. It always has been. I rather enjoy that about life, the fact that it remains a deep mystery. In my foolishness, I detest routine and I scorn people who adhere to it. Suspense, mystery, a beautiful unknowing: that is my life as of late, and the possibilities are endless. I don’t know where it will take me. I’m not completely aware of where it already has taken me. I don’t know, but it’s beautiful.

And in a way, these possibilities have been art, painting new hopes, erasing old fears, unveiling the painted masterpiece of human closeness. It has been lovely. In the deep unknowing, I have been forced to hold the hands of friends and family; for possibilities are always more beautiful when shared with other souls. Often, souls can skillfully paint their possibilities to us at the onset, and then artfully weave their way into our hearts. It can be subtle. It isn’t always quick. People can be honest, and yet utterly mysterious. Sometimes even honesty contains mystery. I like it. People are an endless possibility, and the possibility is mine.

Isn’t that the oddest beauty? Just the simplest possibilities whisper hope and breathe new beginnings. Nothing else may belong to me, but these possibilities do. It’s oddly wonderful. And yet dreadfully suspenseful. Who knows? No one can know, how these possibilities will all turn out. We don’t know where the possibilities will lead, and we don’t know how this book will end. In my case, I have painted the front-cover of this book. I have written the prelude; maybe even the first chapter. I have begun to retell the stories of brokenness, beauty, hope, and utter humanness. I have felt this story. And the possibilities make the story unpredictable.

Sometimes I wonder about the next chapter. I don’t know what’s in it. But that's okay, you know? Who knows how this will end?

And we really never know how it will end.

…I suppose that’s another one of those possibility-thingies.

"Life Plan". Hah.

You know how people want to know what career you’re going into? I hate that question. I’m 17. I don’t know what I’m doing for the next 50 years. All I know is that I have interests, and I have dreams. I’ll work with that as stuff comes my way. I guess. I don’t really know.

I’m good at words, and I’m good at connecting with people. I’m good at making them feel valued and worth it. I’m good at conversation. I’m good with communication period. I like to write, and words work with me. Words and people. Those are two things that I never grow tired of. Sometimes people piss me off. And sometimes words piss me off. And sometimes pissy people with pissy words piss me off. But in general, I like working with words and people. We’ll see how that turns out.

I want to go to college. Out-of-town. Who knows what I’ll major in. I don’t want an intense education, but I want a thorough education. I want a vivid education. I want new experiences, new ideas, new people and new places. I want my mind to grow, not just my GPA. I’d love to able to study in Europe somehow. But I’m poor and I’m not a genius. So who knows if that would work.

It’s probably easy to gather this, but I want to travel. I want to take a roadtrip around the United States, and a friend of mine and I are planning on doing that the summer of 2015. And I want to see Europe. All of it. London, Scotland, Austria, coffee shops in Paris, Italy, Spain. Every inch. And I also want to see the overcrowded Asian cities, for some reason. Tokyo, Beijing, Hong Kong, that kind of thing. I think travelling would grow my mind. I love seeing new places, and I want to keep seeing them.

I want to get married sometime, of course. I really want to be a wife and mom. I want a career too. But I want kids, and I want to be married. I don’t want a lot of kids. No more than three or four. I only need a few, to have and to hold. I want sons. Little boys fascinate me. Little girls do too, but I love little boys’ minds. Maybe it’s because little brothers are all I’ve ever known. I know how to raise sons because I’ve helped raise several of my brothers. But to top it all off, I want a baby girl. I want to give her big brothers, and I want them to adore her (which probably wouldn’t happen, but it would be cute). I want the baby of my family to be a girl. And I pray she doesn’t put me through all the crap I’ve put my mother through.

I want children because I want to give hope to the next generation. It seems like there are two categories of parents. The parents who don’t care, and the parents who don’t let go. One buys their kids marijuana, and the other grounds them if they have a crush on somebody. I don’t want to be either parent. I want kids because I want to give someone hope. I want to give a person a solid foundation to run back to. I want to show them Christ. I want to be real with them. I want to be a source of wisdom and protection, but also a source of love and acceptance. I don’t want my kids to feel like they have to conform to my desired model for them. I want to give a person that kind of a start in life.

But I want to wait a few years before having kids. I want to be married to my husband for a little bit before adding more people to the mix. We’ll see if nature cooperates with me there.

And aside from all my dreams of travel and college and children and success, I simply want to fall in love. One day, I want to wake up next to the same man I married 70 years ago. I know the tingly-warm-fuzzies don’t last for 70 years. But I believe the intertwining of two souls does. I want to fall in love with someone’s soul. I want it to last. I don’t ever want to go through a divorce. I want to cherish and adore someone the way Christ cherishes and adores me. I want to explore the world together. I want to share my life with someone else. Experiencing everything together: the small things, like holding his hand under the covers at night. And then the big things, like graduating our oldest child. Heck, even having our first child. I want to be married to the man who will lead, serve, and protect our future family, and me. But I want to be married to a human, too. I don’t want a “perfect” guy, because they don’t exist and simply because I like humans. I want a man who has tasted pain and regret and brokenness, yet who has also tasted a vivid grace. Imperfection has something bittersweet about it. Imperfection hurts, and yet, if everything were perfect, would we have true love at all? After all, we would only be required to love someone in their perfection. There would never be any “I choose to love you, despite you”. I’m on a tangent here. But essentially, I want to fall in love. I feel like that dream is perhaps the most beautiful out of all my dreams. But I want it to be right. I don’t want to regret it. It is my most fragile dream. And yet it has such a potential to be so whole.

I’m not sure if I want to homeschool my kids. I don’t know yet. I have some time to figure that out. Homeschooling has given me some incredible opportunities, and being at a school all day would suck. I’d like to give my kids those same luxuries. I’m not sure about it, but we shall see.

I want to be accomplished, in some way. I don’t want to be President or anything. I just want to be successful. People have said I should go into politics. Heck no. Extemp has forever ruined politics for me. Who wants to observe corruption everyday, for a job? Like, no. I don’t know what I want to do. I have lots of things I like to do. I like acting. I like music and I like singing. I like words, and I like communicating. I like writing. I like people. I like connecting with them. I like little kids, and I want to help little kids from abusive situations. I like feeling successful and accomplished. I like the idea of journalism, either verbally or via writing. I like the idea of acting and singing and writing songs on the side. I like the idea of being a writer, helping celebrities write autobiographies, being a columnist, who knows. I like the idea of being a Victim’s Advocate for young children. I like the idea of being a psychologist. So I don’t know. There are all kinds of things I could do. We’ll see what doors open up.

My “life-plan” has more “I don’t know”s  and “I hope”s  and “we’ll see”s  than actual plans. But whatever. I don’t feel like it all has to be pieced together right now. We’ll see where everything ends up.

Object of a Crush

“Your new haircut really works for you. I mean, I love your hair like that.”

“I just…you’re just so awesome.”

“We have this connection thing? Like I’m pretty sure I can read your thoughts.”

“I need to invite you over to my house. I mean, you and your family.”

“I wrote a love song today. Do you want me to sing it?”

“You are the most ‘like-me’ person I’ve ever met.”

“We could waltz. Right here. Right now.”

Yeah. Maybe he’s flirting. But he’s twelve years old.

(Well first of all it’s sad that a twelve-year-old has better lines than I do.)

I recently staffed an etiquette ball/dinner for 6^th graders. My little friend Nathan was there. He’s the most adorable little thing ever. And I think those sentiments are mutual. Yikes. Don’t know if he realizes I’m a good half a decade older than him.

“That’s okay. My aunt is eight years older than my uncle.”

Thanks, but no thanks, Nathan.

Just for the sake of your daily helping of adorableness. 

{Lovely}

A mug of hot chocolate and a cold Krispy Kreme donut for breakfast. Currently sitting in the sun-room of my house. My forearm is sore from lifting heavy sweet-tea canisters at Chick-Fil-A several times a day. But all in all, it’s lovely here.

I like lovely things, you know? Lovely things are nice. And I like them.

You know what’s lovely? Holding a sleeping baby. Discovering new music that you love. Waking up from a nap and feeling the sunset on your face. Long, tight hugs. A crisp and clear autumn morning. Holding eye-contact with someone you love. The flickering light from a vanilla candle. A cozy mug of coffee or hot chocolate (with marshmallows). When a warm hand holds your cold hand. When your soul suddenly connects with another soul. When it snows. Late-night thoughts. When someone catches your obscure movie references. When you bite into a warm brownie and there are chocolate chips inside. When your soul is brimming with so many emotions and thoughts and feelings that it could burst. Hearing unexpectedly from a friend. Remembering good times. When a particular song invokes warm feels. Snickering at inside-jokes. Not taking life too seriously. Falling asleep on Christmas Eve. Forehead kisses. Bedhead hair. White Christmas lights. Seeing a father who just adores his daughter. Grandparents. Those little mints that restaurants give out sometimes. Big down-comforters.

And God’s limitless and reckless grace. That is so lovely.

God’s grace takes so many different forms. It heals so many different wounds. It convicts so many various hearts. His grace.

Grace gives us the strength to answer in kindness when met with cruelty. Grace gives us hope. Grace washes away every stain. Grace meets us where we are and takes us where we couldn’t go on our own merit. Grace breaks our stone-cold hearts. Grace convicts us of our sin. Grace holds us while we sob. Grace motivates us. Grace is beautiful. It always has been and it always will be.

I’ve experienced that grace to new heights recently. It has broken me. It has humbled me. It has rebuilt me, but in a different way. It has humbled me deeply, but it has given me hope. Yes. It has rebuilt me.

And yet I think people cheapen grace in so many ways. Grace often becomes a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card. It becomes a justification for sin. It becomes a scummy fallback. It becomes a comeback line. “You can’t punish me because grace.” “I can sin because there’s always grace.” “They shouldn’t have reacted that way to my sin. They should have grace.” “I can do what I want because grace is unconditional.”

“Should we go on sinning so that grace may abound? By no means! How can a man who has ‘died to sin’, live in it?” –Romans 6:1-2

God’s grace is unconditional. People’s grace is not. It should be, but that’s a whole other discussion. People cannot be expected to have boundless grace. I’m not sure we’re even capable of it, in our humanness. People who appear to have limitless grace are able to do so only because they are distributing God’s grace. Our own grace is cheap. It is a “Get Out of Jail Free” card.

But God’s grace is lovely. It meets us where we are, but it does not allow us to stay where we are. It convicts us and acquits us. And I think that we don’t often allow ourselves to experience its full beauty, due to our own selfishness. We like to think that God’s grace is the free-pass to do whatever we please. But it isn’t. The beauty of grace is only fully realized when coupled with repentance. Otherwise, grace is cheap. Grace only matters because it distinguishes the difference between our worth from our sins. But if we use grace to “justify” sketchy character, then it no longer meets its purpose. Then it is no longer grace at all. It is only an excuse at that point.

No. Grace is beautiful when coupled with repentance. It is at its most beautiful form when we realize how little we deserve it. When God’s grace almost hurts because you know that you, in no way, deserve it; that is when you see the beauty of it. When your brokenness and humility lead to an unclouded judgment. When your repentance is all you can offer. When the pain of your sin racks your body in the form of sobs. That is when grace holds you. That is when it is beautiful.

“A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.” –Psalm 51:17

Grace is lovely. Don’t cheapen it.

~Emily

Dear Benjamin

Dear Benjamin,

Heyy buddy. It's me, your big sister. The girl who wakes you up with kisses even though I know you're going to yell and hit me and then go back to sleep. The girl who bribes cuddles out of you by promising to make you coffee. The girl who had to stay home and babysit the day you were born, even though I desperately wanted to be there. The girl who was so excited to see you for the first time, that mom had to make me sit in time-out until I calmed down. The girl who annoys you with hugs. The girl who introduced you to 38 Special. The girl who bought you a coffee mug and Lindt Lindor truffles for Christmas. And yes, I am also the girl who secretly replaced "Dear Haley" to "Good Morning Cutie" in your letter last time.

I'm your big sister. You know that. I'm ten years older than you and you're my little kid. You're really mom's kid, but you're my kid too. You always will be. Sorry.

Next year, I'm going to graduate and I'll be off at college. You were really worried about that when I first began highschool. You didn't want me to move away. Not sure if you still feel that way. But as college and whatnot gets closer, I'm starting to think I'm going to miss you a little bit too. Because you're my little Benjamin, and you're very miss-able.

And as you grow up, you should remember a few things about this big cruel world. I've lived in it ten more years than you. So you should listen to me. Here's what you need to know:
1) Gum on the streets is not free-candy.
2) Don't argue with mom, even after you start Debate. She'll use her fiat power to override any argument of yours'.
3) Keep beating up on people who pick on you. Even some of my friends are terrified of you.
4) Read the book before you watch the movie.
5) Learn to not give a crap about what people think. Live your life.
6) But all the time, listen to the wisdom of lovely people.
7) Don't underestimate peoples' ability to manipulate and use you. Take care of yourself.
8) Listen to good music.
9) There is no such thing as too much coffee.
10) You can always come to me, with anything. I will not ever judge you. I've been there and done that.
11) Don't let homework stress you beyond reason.
12) Care about people deeply.
13) Please do not ever sacrifice your happiness for success.
14) Don't be afraid to fall in love.
15) When you fall, fall deeply.
16) Bug mom insanely about getting your driver's license. Otherwise, she will never get around to it.
17) Persevere in Debate, if you choose to do it. You'll be great. Just have fun.
18) Pain never lasts. But when it comes, allow yourself to experience it.
19) Watch Anchorman 2 sometime. It looks really good.
20) If mom blocks internet browsers on your iPod, call me. I haz skillz.
21) Don't be a butthole.
22) Be the best man you can be. Always. It will be worth it.

And mostly, remember I would give the world just to see you smile. I adore you. Grow up safe. Stay lovely. I love you.
-Emily