:::The College Growing Pain:::

I used to think that in order to make a difference I had to be extreme, plan an elaborate trip, or be the leader in some way. But what I'm discovering is that the biggest differences can be made using just a few tools. 

At the age of five I wanted to be the Quick Lube mechanic who investigated underneath the car. I aspired to achieve greatness. Obviously. With the passage of every birthday, my career goals were redirected. Through the years I was convinced that I was going to be the Walmart greeter, a country music singer, or the host on QVC. My three note range and southern draw quickly placed a damper on a couple of those dreams. Luckily, I'm perfectly qualified to endorse rollback prices while reppin' a blue vest.

After a childhood full of dreaming and planning, you reach an age when that adolescent wonder turns to reality. The uncertainty no longer exists and somewhere along the way you choose what you want to be when "you grow up".

I've been mistaken all these years because I thought by answering the what, everything else would fall into place. We've been asking ourselves the wrong question.

College is such a unique era. It's a time when you can remember vivid details of your elementary and teen years while simultaneously taking giant steps towards independence. College is a constant slumber party, an emotional see-saw, a cup of coffee and great conversation, a long run along the Tennessee River, and a time when eating Fourth Meal with your friends at 3am is acceptable. College is a time to befriend strangers, understand other viewpoints, voice your beliefs, dance without reservation, and let go of the parts of life that keep you from becoming the greatest version of yourself. 

Oh, and school. College is about that too. 

But you see, being a college student is more than deciding what you want to be...it's about becoming who you want to be. The passage of time moves swiftly in one direction. Tick. Time doesn't take a break. Tick. Time doesn't come with a rewind setting. Tick. Time is here. Tick.

When I grow up, I want to live a life of intention. I want to make people smile. I want to be spontaneous. I want to be present and engaged in other peoples lives. I want to be genuine. I want to laugh at myself. I want to make every day count. I want to forgive quickly. I want to make a difference. 

Looking back, my first career choice may have been the best. Unlike the Walmart greeter, the country singer, or the tv host, the face of the mechanic working underneath the car is often hidden. The mechanic goes to work everyday with his sleeves rolled up, knowing that the job is not easy. The mechanic doesn't worry about the body of the car, his job is to focus on what remains unseen. Sometimes he feels as if his role is insignificant, but without the attention, fine tuning and auditing of the mechanic then the car would fail to run. 

We should strive to be that type of friend for someone else. Making a difference begins now. It begins exactly where you are by engaging with those around you, speaking from your heart, and worrying more about who than what. 

Now it's time (Tick.) for me to ask you a question.

Who do you want to be when YOU grow up? 

 jpr

Material Cleanse

Two months ago I made a pact with myself that has already led some people to question my sanity.

Today marks the 8th week of a personal challenge to live without the purchase of any clothing, jewelry, shoes, or accessories until January 1st, 2014. Month #1 was a success and so were weeks 1, 2, and 3 of month #2. But on week 8, I caved. I have failed before completing even one-third of the experiment. As you read this I could attempt to justify my action, but none of that really matters. The truth is, I stumbled upon a pair of peach wedged high heels and a purse while I was supposed to be shopping for cleaning supplies at Target. Within seconds the two forbidden items were perched in my cherry red buggy, making themselves at home and flirting with the Scrubbing Bubbles and Mr. Clean. The cashier scanned my items and as she bagged them the initial thrilled turned to guilt. Leaving the store I felt as cheap and shallow as the plastic bag that was draped on my forearm. You see, unfortunately this purchase wasn't an accident. Instead, I willing chose to break the rules. 

That's how sin works most of the time. Just ask my girl, Eve. (Genesis 3)

The following night, I planned my entire outfit around the newly purchased peach shoes. The guilt would temporarily subside when someone would kindly comment on my ensemble. I thought to myself, "Well, the shoes were on sale. It's not like I splurged." 

Suddenly I began to realize that with every step, there was a slight discomfort. Step by step. One foot in front of the other. Holy cow these hurt.

Before going any further, it's important to note that I'm highly competitive. Bluntly stated: I prefer to succeed and I have found failing to be irritating and disheartening. I would argue that everyone can relate to the statement above. We all find pleasure in winning. Some of us more than others, but none the less, succeeding feels more satisfying than failing.

This summer I was enrolled in an accounting course at the University of Tennessee. The professor was an enthusiastic man with a towering presence and, like most professors, he developed two versions of each test. Version A and Version B.

Everyone is taking the same test, however the sequence of the problems may vary.

As a result, the professor possesses two answer keys. One answer key corresponds to Version A and the other to Version B. These answer keys reveal the correct answers and are used to determine whether you pass or fail.

While turning in my last exam, I began wondering if the professor had ever graded a test using the wrong answer key? Or if a student has accidentally listed the incorrect test version? 

Outside of the classroom, this happens to us all the time.

During the first phase of this experiment I've discovered that we can" grade" our progress in life from a worldly version or from an eternal version.

In my experience, the worldly version leaves me feeling weary and incomplete. Buying the forbidden shoes didn't make me feel any better. In fact, they gave me blisters. There will always be women who are prettier, more intelligent, wealthier, more athletic, etc. The list could continue for days. When comparing ourselves with the worldly version, we will never be satisfied.

That's why I choose Him. Despite my flaws and shortcomings, His love never runs out on me.

When judging my failures and successes in life, to whom am I using as my answer key?

Viewing life through eyes of faith, we can never fail because His love never fails.

Are my actions honest, kind, just, obedient? Am I serving others, acting mercifully, forgiving daily?

 As Bob Goff stated in his book Love Does, "I used to be afraid of failing at the things that really mattered to me, but now I'm more afraid of succeeding at things that don't."

More of Him

Less of me

It's time to carry on with week 9 of the experiment against excess.

-jpr-

The Experiment Against Excess

 

More of Him, less of me.

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

 Matthew 6:19-21

While packing for a 10-day trip to California, I sifted through my closet(s) and pulled out an assortment of dresses, shorts, and blouses for a total of 11 outfits. One outfit for each day I'm away from home and one extra because...well because I can. We all know styling isn't complete without shoes and jewelry, so I began searching for the accessories that would accent the clothes that were already tightly stowed in my over-sized suitcase. At that moment I paused to acknowledge that I always travel with more than I actually need. My suitcase isn't just full, but overflowing with excess.

This example served as a visual representation of the bigger lesson that God has been continually placing on my heart and mind for several weeks.

Compared to the entire world population I live a very comfortable and even luxurious life. 

I would dare to say that excess has impaired our frame of reference in America. Excess food, possessions, spending, waste, media, and stress. As a result the line between my wants and needs have become blurred.

In an effort to simply my life and reduce emphasis on "stuff", I began a 6 month personal challenge against excess on July 1st.

Here are the ground rules:

1.  No articles of clothing, scarves, handbags, shoes, or jewelry can be purchased until January 1st, 2014. 
2. Others are not allowed to purchase the items above and give them to me. That would be cheating. But all other gifts will be accepted...hint hint. 
3. My friends and family will serve as the jury and are to hold me accountable.                                           *Special counseling may be needed during Victoria Secret Semi-Annual Sale and the transition from the summer to autumn shopping season. 
4. If a problem or question arises, I must consult the jury for a proper ruling.  
5. Quitting is not permissible.

Simple enough? 

Yeah, it sounds like torture to me too.

However, I'm hopeful that this experiment will remind me to come constantly with a thankful heart for all my needs have already been met.

More of Him, less of me. 

-jpr-

Orbits: For That Nice Clean Feeling

Fiction or non-fiction? You may never know.

Several years ago my youth director looked me square in the eye and asked, "What are you chewing on?"

Intimidated by the tone of the question, my first thought was to truthfully shout, "Orbits bubblegum!"

Darn it. I've always been taught that it is rude to chomp my gum. And there I was, completely caught.

But before I answered I paused a moment longer, sensing that he was not calling me out about my gum chewing technique or wanting a literal answer. I suspect that my confused expression made me closely resemble the ditzy blonde girl who influenced me to purchase the Orbits chewing gum in the first place. Got a dirty mouth? Clean it with Orbits!

By this time MM knew it was time to rephrase his question. He asked, "What are you reading and studying right now?" Feeling the blood rush to by cheeks, I sheepishly confessed that I wasn't "chewing" on anything. 

A couple of weeks later we began a class study on the book of Romans. Sunday morning, Sunday evenings, and Wednesday nights were devoted to learning and going a little bit deeper into scripture. This was the first time that I had been fully submerged and challenged to research more than the words on the surface. I always arrived to school well before class began. Not by choice, simply because I didn't have my drivers license yet. Nonetheless, I decided to spend those extra minutes reading Romans and dissecting a few verses. I began reading where I had previously stopped. 

Romans 4:9

As I began reading in the library that morning, I struggled to understand the meaning of the very first verse. "Hmmm", I murmured to myself while thinking that my vocabulary was extremely weak. 

The glossary. Yes, the glossary. This seemed like a logical place to search for a definition. I quickly flipped the page to the back of my Bible. By habit I repeated the first three letters of the alphabet in my mind.  "A...B...C...okay, C. Now where is that word?"

My eyes scanned down the thin piece of paper but in the group of "C" words, the one I was searching for was not on the list. 

In an effort to speed up the process and crack the mystery, I decided to text MM and ask. So on that early Thursday morning I sent my youth director a text that went something like this, "Good morning! What does circumcision mean?" 

I've never denied having the personality type that is direct and to the point. This situation was no different. 

I sat in silence for a moment before hearing my ringtone whistle "The Great Escape" by Boys like Girls. 

Reflecting back, the title of that song was very appropriate. It would have been great if I could have escaped the entire situation.

Calmly I opened my candy apple red flip phone and viewed MM's response. 

"I'll explain it in person."

At 7:40 something AM, that answer was acceptable. I closed my journal and stowed my Bible away in my backpack. Days passed but my curiosity stirred.

SUNDAY 5:01 PM

When I was younger (and more naive) our youth group gathered in the fellowship hall for dinner at promptly 5:00 each Sunday before dividing into smaller groups for discussion and study. Before preparing my plate I approached MM in a very professional and matter of fact manner and loudly blurted, 

"So tell me what circumcision means! I just cannot figure it out."

And. At. That. Moment. He. Explained. It. All. 

He explained much more than I wanted to know actually and again I felt my face turn as red as the spaghetti sauce that was supposed to accompany our dinner. 

The truth was out. I knew the facts. And I've never questioned the meaning of Romans 4:9 again. 

That Sunday I decided to skip dinner and I opted for Orbits chewing gum instead in hopes of cleaning my dirty, dirty mouth. 

jpr

A Gentle(wo)man's Game

Golf. Most would refer to it as a gentleman's game. However, I don't consider myself to be like most people. During my years of competitive golf I have witnessed so many petite, bubbly, kindhearted women who have a passion for the game. Don't let their exterior be misleading. These women, my friends, would rob the average male golfer of their money and their pride. Gently, of course. As I've eased out of playing competitively over the past three years, I've found that my game has worsened while my collegiate bound teammates and friends continue to break their own personal records. Despite my lack of practice lately, the passion for the game remains.

But you see the reason I love the sport is deeper than the obvious objective of smacking a tiny white ball into a round hole. By nature and intent, golf teaches elements of character. Honesty, integrity, perseverance, self-discipline, humility, respect, and courtesy. Golf, known as being a mental game, has taught me perspective above all. The way I play golf is very similar to the way I play the game of life. Some days I feel like a professional and other days I'm back to learning the fundamentals.

Weather Conditions

In East Tennessee the weather is known for being unpredictable. Just when I think I'm prepared and dressed appropriately for a round of golf, the once fluffy marshmallow cloud suddenly appears grey and sprinkles of water begin to drop. As a result I've learned that you have to persevere, be flexible, willing to adjust your game plan based on the condition of the course. Life shares this same unpredictability. I like to think that stormy seasons are placed in our life to subtly lead us to discover God's game plan. As a player of the game, we must be willing to trust and be redirected.

Whiffing

This word is often used to describe a player who swings and misses by a considerably large margin. In a golfers dictionary, whiffing would be defined as swinging the golf club without making contact with the ball. As a result you've wasted a stroke and have not advanced the ball any closer to the hole. Luckily it has been many years since I've embarrassingly whiffed while playing golf however, in life there are several moments where I miss the target. The intentions of my heart mean well, but many times I find myself focused on the wrong goal. As a result I am weary and stationary. I misuse my efforts by taking a swing at events and agendas that don't offer any advancement for His Kingdom. Swing and a miss. Sound familiar? This leads me to the next topic.

Forgiving Yourself

Golf is weird compared to other sports. Bear with me as I explain a few concepts for those who aren't very familiar. The objective is to play a round of golf and finish with the lowest score. A "round of golf" consists of playing 18 consecutive holes and the number of strokes he or she must take to make the little white ball roll into the hole determines a player’s score. Boring, right??? 

My point is this. During the round, mistakes are going to happen. You may hit the ball into the sand trap, out of bounds, into a hazard, or lose sight of the ball all together. When this happens a feeling of frustration, regret, and disappointment swell within. However, in the midst of these emotions we must remind ourselves that there is still more golf to be played and opportunities to do well in the future. A terrible hole doesn't immediately result in a terrible round. Life is no different. We all make mistakes, but the way we react to our mistakes will impact our future. In order to succeed in golf and in life, I believe it's required that we have a positive attitude and optimistic outlook. Forgive yourself and move on to the next hole.

The First Tee Junior Golf Program

Perhaps you don't dedicate your time golfing, but whenever people are passionate about something one becomes full of joy and inspired when they are able to participate, contribute, and be involved with an activity that they love. I believe our personal interests aren't given to us by chance. They are sweetly given as gifts...so go play! 

jpr

Traditions in Transit

 When I was a little girl, before Ben was born, I remember my grandmother and mother jetting off to the beach every year during the month of May. You'll never guess what that meant! 

Seven full days with my daddy. 

Just him and me.

We spent 6 of our days fishing and playing hide and seek. Occasionally I would pout because he didn't know how to fix the perfect ponytail. High on my head, with absolutely no bumps. Every night while driving home from a full day of adventure, he would slow his truck until it came to a stop. Our cozy house was always in sight, but I knew that this was my cue. With the smell of a breezy summer and fresh cut grass seeping in through the truck windows, I crawled over and sat on my daddy's lap. With my neck stretched tall and my eyes wide, I could barely see over the steering wheel to claim the responsibility of a back road driver. 

But I proudly welcomed the task and for that mile of traveled gravel, I felt untouchable.

So, for the next 5 days my fair, freckled face beamed with excitement when the truck hit the gravel and daddy began to hit the brakes.

Day 1-6 of Beach Week. Yep, this really happened. I'm so glad Ben (my brother) was finally born.

The laundry was stretched in all rooms of the house. Our dishes weren't spotless and they were not occupying their usual position in our cabinets. My diet consisted of Poptarts, Happy Meals, sunflower seeds, and homemade peach ice cream. 

But at 4 years old, none of this seemed to matter. At least not until day number 7.

The day that mama was arriving home! 

Year after year, the reaction of this day was always the same. Excitement and a sense of panic. Day number 7 was devoted to tidying up all the messes that resulted from our week of play. Washing and drying our clothes, stuffing my baby dolls behind the curtains in my bedroom (that was my best kept secret), rinsing the dishes and learning which button started the wash cycle. 

Day 7 was chaotic. 

However, completely necessary so that mom would believe that everything was under control while she was away. As eventful as daddy-daughter week was, I remember pressing my nose against our sliding glass door watching and waiting for mom to come home and cradle me in her arms.

 

Day 7 Transformation

As you are reading this post, you will find me in transit. That's right, I'm beach bound! 

This isn't just your typical east coast vaca. This particular vacation has history. It's a tradition in which my membership was just approved last year. I have a one year tenure. However, it's the same beach getaway that the women in my family have taken with their best friends for over 20 years. 

It's been a time for them to escape the reality of everyday schedules. A time to share stories with their best friends. A time to shop and see who can find the best deals at the Tanger outlets. And for a week, they could bask in the sun and pretend that everything is right in the world. 

The timing of this trip is very appropriate. Memorial Day. As I travel this meaningful route, I can't help but to feel as if I'm leaving someone behind. The memory of my mother's last beach trip is playing on repeat. When scrambling through old documents, I found a letter that I wrote and sent to the women of a bible study at my church. 

  

 "As for mom, she has been at the beach with her friends and is traveling back home this evening. I’ve called her several times and

although she has been sleeping a lot, her friends have also kept her laughing. She seems to be enjoying herself. Mom has always loved pretty pajamas, shoes, etc. So I was not surprised a few weeks ago when she showed me a new swimsuit and matching cover-up that she bought to wear at the beach. She called me on Thursday night as I was driving to let me know that her and the girls walked down to the beach and then stopped to get virgin strawberry daiquiris. She added that she was wearing her new swimsuit and matching cover-up. Stories like this make me so happy because I am assured that she’s doing all she can to enjoy the time that she has left. Although none of us are able to determine the timing of future events, I feel like the next few weeks are a time to really treasure. I am convinced in the power of prayer. Our family has been blessed and able to spend way more time with my mom than most people that are diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Even though my heart aches with a sadness that may never go away, I cannot help but to give praise to the Lord for the time our family has been given. As I reflect on the past two years, I continue to be amazed of God’s sovereignty in my life and the way He can reveal the small blessing that can come despite tragedy. These small blessings are the pieces of encouragement that give me hope and remind me that I have no reason to fear. For this really is our temporary home and I know that this is not the end, but only the beginning of an eternal life. How great are God’s love and his promises? I am so thankful to know the love of Christ and for each of you ladies for the love that you’ve shown to my family." (May 22, 2012)

This year, the tradition is different however I am choosing to rejoice in the memories that this beach trip represents. The tradition must go on, and I am smitten that I get to carry this forward. Often times I feel like the freckled faced 4 year old anxiously waiting for my mother to return, only to realize that she is already home. I often like to imagine how she is spending her time. The possibilities seem endless however, I trust that the Lord will forever keep His promises to me, and to all of His children. Eternity is a place of no pain or hardship. A time when He will embrace me with outstretched arms. A time to thank Him with my knees bent low and hands reaching high in praise. A place where my sweet mother is waiting for MY arrival. A place like the beach where we can permanently escape schedules, we can share stories with our best friends, bask in the grandeur of The Son and know that everything is right. And maybe, just maybe there will be a majestic Tanger outlet mall with a never ending closeout sale.

-jpr-

The "Greene" House

 

Every year my grandparents plant a huge garden full of many different fruits and vegetables. These seeds are planted with the intention to provide fresh food for our family, to share with friends, and allow others to gain a taste of some delicious produce while providing them with seeds to begin creating their own garden. During the spring and summer months a lot of sweat and time is devoted to the garden. The first step is to plant the seeds. Once this is accomplished, they spend many weeks ensuring that the seeds they've planted are nurtured in an atmosphere that will yield a healthy harvest.

It's that time of the year.

Summer break.

For some of us, summer is already here!

For others, sitting through a long graduation ceremony is the only event standing in your way.
In reflecting over my own high school graduation, I realize that most details were a blur. However, I do remember re-reading my graduation speech in my head 100+ times, posing for a never ending stream of photographs, wrapping my arms around my mother's neck as I received my diploma, and then getting plastered with silly string in celebration.  

For some members of my class, that was the last day our paths have crossed. I often wonder how life's circumstances have treated them and how they have spent the past few years. 

For others of my class, I have never once had to question where they are or what they are doing because I've been able to build on the memories that were established many years ago.

It's not until you grow and reach new heights that you are able to look back and fully appreciate those precious times. I suspect this delayed appreciation will continue to happen as we enter new stages of our journey and later understand the magnitude of the moments that once seemed insignificant. After discussion will a friend and former classmate, some of our greatest “delayed appreciations” involved subtle conversations where a coach or teacher expressed that they believed in us.

A seed was planted.

They believed in us and it allowed us to believe in ourselves.

 They invested in us, so that we could invest in others. 

According to Google, a greenhouse is a glass building in which plants are grown that need protection from cold weather. In the same way that my grandparents tend to their garden outside, the educators in the entire Greeneville City School system help students grow academically, professionally, and as individuals. As a teacher’s daughter and former student, I speak from a personal note when I say that the school system served as my Greene-House and gave me a place to grow even during the coldest of seasons.   

 For that, I am thankful. 

I've discovered that we aren't planted here to be the daisy, the tulip, or even the rose. This lesson has been revealed to me recently, however I regret not discovering this sooner.

 Complete fulfillment cannot be achieved by satisfying my personal wants or by obsessing on how others perceive you. This concept is often a struggle for me. Especially in a culture that constantly projects a false illusions that material gains and the perfect hairstyle will result in happiness.

A dainty, vibrant, perfectly flawless flower sitting gracefully in a vase for everyone to view.

Daily I find myself striving (and failing) to be the flower, only to realize that I'm completely missing the point.

You see, once the stem of the flower is cut the beauty remains for only a few days before wilting and becoming dead. 

It's purpose was solely for fragrance and appearance.

Don't misunderstand me. Looking and feeling pretty is part of our feminine nature that should be embraced. However we are meant for so much more!

We are called to be the cantaloupe, the tomato, the watermelon, and the squash. You and I are people of substance.

It's our job to continue to enrich the lives of others, to share wholesomeness, and to feed others the opportunity to grow.

We are the produce. 

With that comes a great privilege to share our seeds with others.  

Seeds of encouragement and seeds of hope. 

jpr