{fresh air}

Fresh air. It's a necessity, isn't it?

"Take a deep breath." "Why don't you go get some fresh air?" These are phrases typically said to us when we need to slow down, take a chill pill, or gain new perspective. Our words and actions can speak volumes, and often, those actions apparently signify that there is something we need more of-- fresh air.

Two weeks ago marked the last full week of summer. Oklahoma temperatures didn't disappoint, giving us all a nice show of temperatures in the 90's with a steady dose of humidity. Starbucks had released the Pumpkin Spice Latte early this year as a part of a "ten year celebration", sweaters and boots flooded the department stores, and the Hobby Lobby aisles were already transitioning over to Christmas decor. Everything surrounding us signified that Fall had arrived (a false sense of reality mind you). However, walking out the door of Starbucks with a steamy hot PSL into a balmy 95 degrees leaves much to be desired.

The after affects of this dual season limbo, it seemed,  were apparent every way I turned. Hobby Lobby and Starbucks are to blame. Someone has to be, right? Anticipation is a good thing sometimes, but once it takes precedence over being grateful for the present moment, it becomes a detriment. I could see it in traffic, in the demeanor of clients at work, and even in my own general disposition. I believe I even used the word "cranky" to describe myself one day. I'm never cranky. Something was wrong. My boss and I decided that we both needed to sit out on our front porches in temperatures chilly enough for a sweatshirt, with a warm coffee mug to lift the muggy air and demeanor seeming to surround everyone we encountered that week. We needed some fresh air.

 Lucky for us, our prayers were answered, and as the calendar changed seasons, so did the air.  A cool front swiftly arrived with a does of fresh crisp Autumn air. One of my favorite things to do is to watch the sunrise. Last Monday, I woke up a few minutes early, got ready for work, and headed to a coffee shop patio. The clock on my phone signified I had a few minutes to spare before the sun made it's scheduled arrival. I ordered my coffee, found an east facing chair on the patio, and I waited. As the colors began to spread on the horizon, I took a deep breath. A smile quickly spread across my face. It was the fresh air I had been waiting for. The air was crisp, my sweater was warm, and the horizon was wide and beautiful.

In the past week, I have encountered countless breaths of fresh air. I have the pleasure of meeting many new faces each week at work. The conversations I was blessed to have this week were evidence of the fresh air surrounding us. I encountered more joy, thankfulness, and optimism in the past week than I have in the past month. Maybe we all just needed a change.

Fall is my favorite time of year. I love the colors, the leaves, the smells, and the tastes. The list could go on and on.  Maybe more than anything else though, I love the change. The contrast between Summer and Fall is one of the largest characteristically between seasons, in my opinion. Along with change comes new opportunities, fresh beginnings, and the chance to discover something new and beautiful that seemed to be lost in the long summer months. A change in the seasons almost seems to be a forced and necessary "breath of fresh air".

Sometimes I think we get too set in our routines, bogged down with our schedules, and so consumed with our own lives that we forget to look up and recognize what is already surrounding us. Whether it is Summer, Spring, Fall, or Winter, we are surrounded with things to be grateful for, creation to be in awe of, and opportunities to make the world a better place. Sometimes it takes a change in scenery, seasons, or situations to grasp our attention long enough for us to recognize the gap between where we are and what it takes to get us to where we want to be.

Life is full of seasons, not just the ones on the calendar. The good news is though, God provides changes in our own personal seasons just when we need them. We don't have to wait 3 months for the calendar season to change to get a good dose of fresh perspective. Too often, we view change as a negative thing. We focus on what we have lost, the inconvenience, and ways we can avert shifting the way we do life. Maybe what we view as harm, God intends for good. I think the seasons in our lives are full of teaching moments. Without change, we wouldn't grow and we wouldn't move forward, and perhaps we would miss out on being a part of the very thing God created us to do. I pray that my life is full of seasons of purpose, seasons sent by God himself.

Lord, open my eyes to the seasons and changes you place in front of me. Don't let me become consumed in my desires for my own life. When I do and when I fail, send me a breath of your fresh air. Fill me up, refresh me, and guide me. Send me seasons that challenge, shape, and mold me into who you want me to become. Guide me to where you want me to be and who you want me to meet. Give me a grateful heart and servants feet no matter what season, long or short, I am in. Amen.

A penny for your thoughts.

A couple of days ago, I was cleaning out my closet. I found a lot of things that I won't bore you with, mostly singular items I had "misplaced" like socks and earrings. One item in particular though, I found an excess of. Pennies.

I found pennies on the floor, in the bottom of purses, and lining the edges of plastic tubs I used when I moved a year ago. I made a pile and decided I would deal with it when I was done cleaning. When that time came, however, I wasn't sure what to do with them. I was tempted to dump them back in the bottom of a drawer. In an attempt to have an organized closet, I decided that would be an unacceptable choice. Instead, I found a small "bank" shaped like an elephant a friend had brought me back from India. It had been displayed on my bookshelf for months, but I had forgotten it's original function. The pennies from my closet filled the small elephant to the brim.

When I was younger, I had several piggy banks (they were shaped like pigs, not elephants just to clarify). In them I placed any spare coin I could find. As a 7 year old, cash, coins in my case, was king. For some reason, I found joy in dumping all the coins out, counting them, and then filling my pig once again. We eventually would trade the coins in for cash, but not until I had saved enough pennies to make an unnecessary purchase on the toy aisle at Target or Walmart.

Now, since I use a debit card for most purchases, I find coins to be somewhat of a nuisance. They come in handy for some things, like purchasing 75 cent drinks at Quik Trip in the summer. Even still, I am referring to silver colored coins. Who wants to count out 75 pennies for the convenience store cashier (I don't recommend this unless you want a dirty look from the person in line behind you)?

I am guilty of throwing away a penny a time or two and vacuuming up my fair share as well. Please don't scold me. I know it's bad.  Most of the time though, I leave them where they are, ignore their value, and decide I will deal with them later.

Last week, I was out on a volunteer site to take pictures for work. These particular volunteers are out every Wednesday and have come to expect me stopping by to take photographs of the progress they make on their projects. Our conversation usually consists of them explaining construction terms to me, talking about the current weather, and me being scolded for wearing ballet flats on a construction site.

Last Wednesday however, one of the volunteers got on the topic of his faith and soon realized I was a believer too. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a penny and handed it to me. He said he keeps a handful of these in his pocket to give to special ladies such as myself.

This, however, was not an ordinary penny. Right in the center, there was a hole in the shape of a cross. The volunteer looked at me and said, "God is good, isn't He?" I quickly agreed. He then told me that volunteering reminds Him of that fact each week. "The Lord is good. He gives us things to do and shows us people we should help."

I walked away toward my car thinking what great perspective this man had. I then began to wonder how many opportunities to help and serve others I miss out on because I don't look for them, brush them aside, or think they are too little to make a difference.

Whether I choose to recognize it or not, pennies have value. One penny may only be worth one cent, but multiplied, pennies added together can make all the difference.

It is easy to give small opportunities to serve a "penny's" glance. We ask ourselves if the small things we do can really make a difference. We sometimes get overwhelmed thinking about the world's problems , decide we can't make a difference because the dent we would make would be so small, and instead of acting, push these opportunities to the side of our mind in a "pile" to deal with later.

What would happen if we began to look for these opportunities that are so easy to overlook?  What if the things that we think have small value have the most value in God's eyes?

I don't think God has called any one particular person in the world to end world hunger, end poverty, and implement world peace on their own. I do however, think we forget that we as believers are all a part of one body that works together.

1 Corinthians 12: 27 says ^"Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it." 

Though we may feel the impact we can make on our own is small, we have to remember that the small workings of many aren't so small any more once they are added together.

God places different opportunities in front of each of us to serve Him and others each day. The opportunities I see will be different than the ones placed in front of you. You have the opportunity to make a difference in the day and life of someone else that perhaps no one else will. No matter how big or small the opportunity may be, the Lord has given it to you. You just have to choose to see it. 

I know I need to stop vacuuming up my pennies. You don't have to tell me twice. I know they have value. Even more so though, I want to make a conscious choice to open my eyes to notice the small things God places in my path each day. Opportunities to love and chances to serve. Things that shouldn't be brushed aside to deal with later.

I don't ever want to forget that those things that have little value in the eyes of man and appear to be only specks on the sidewalk of humanity, when looked at through they eyes of the Lord, are magnified in value beyond what we can imagine.  

Thanks for being in my box.

Thanks for spending last Thursday night with me. You might be scratching your head and thinking I have finally fallen off my rocker (I caught you. Shame on you for thinking of me that way.) You might tell me you were watching a game on tv, that you were out at your favorite restaurant, or even that you were sitting at home on your couch. Regardless of what your schedule read, you probably would still argue that you most certainly did not spend the evening with me. As I often do, I agree to disagree. Even if you were doing something else, some of you were here with me, too. In my box.

I am by no means a hoarder. These days, I might consider myself more of a minimalist actually. However, there are still some things I can not and will not bring myself to part with. On the top shelf of my laundry room, I keep a box. In it, I store every letter, sticky note or card that has been given to me. I started this collection of sentiments during college and plan on continuing for the rest of my life.

There is a certain intentionality, thoughtfulness, warmth, and love that can only be ascertained through receiving and reading a handwritten note. Whether it is a birthday card, an encouraging note, or a verse written out on scrap paper, these words, when imparted with a pen onto paper, become timeless.

We live in a text messaging, Facebook stalking, say it when its convenient kind of world. Almost all communication is done through technology. Bookstores are closing, and the written news is making its way to a virtual context. The United States Postal System has begun to cut it's workforce, and it seems the time of the handwritten note has passed. If we want to communicate with someone, we pick up our cell phone, which is most likely already in our hand, and type out a quick text message without even having to stop what we were already doing.

Don't get me wrong. I love your text messages. I love the convenience just as much as you do and would be more than frustrated if I had to wait a week for the postal system to get you my message asking you how your day is going. I would ask you on Monday, you wouldn't receive it until Friday at the earliest, and then you would probably be confused as to which day I was asking about. Let's avoid the confusion and keep the modern communication going.

I know this isn't 1940. Postage stamps aren't always readily at hand, and the world is quickly technologically advancing whether I like it or not (seems as though Apple doesn't call me to ask me my opinion on such matters...their loss).  Forgoing modern communication methods won't do us any favors. Your boss and your best friend will probably be angry with you if you stop answering their text messages and emails. We can't have that. I know those are two integral people in my every day life.

However, just because we participate in and embrace the new, does that mean we have to abolish the old?

Back to last Thursday night. I had a night free at home for the first time in weeks and a couple of hours until a friend was stopping by. I pulled out my box from the top shelf of my laundry room and began to sift through. My box is overflowing and won't stay shut without a large rubber band. It will soon need a companion to help hold its contents. As I flipped through pieces of paper, envelopes, sticky notes, and postage stamps, warmth filled my heart, the kind of warmth a latte gives you on a crisp Fall day.

In my box I found letters sent from foreign countries you sent me while you were abroad. I found notes you wrote me during class in college. I even found the cloth hankie you let me have when I was crying in my dorm room my freshman year of college. In my box, I found memories we made, laughs we shared, landmarks we celebrated, and burdens you helped me bear. On Thursday night, in a pile of paper with curves of ink, I found our friendship and the love that will always be between us. And I found it because you cared. You took the time to stop what you were doing. You were intentional. When you wrote me that note, you might not have known what you were doing. You gave me a gift that I will treasure for the rest of my life. Those words you wrote on my birthday in 2007 not only blessed and encouraged me then, but also in September 2013. The thank you note you wrote me in 2009 reminded me to pray for you in 2011. Your words are timeless and, in that, so are you.

In a note I found that one of my journalism professors gave me upon graduating from college, he wrote this: "I suppose I now begin a close relationship with nostalgia, one of the perks of growing older."

I hope I always have a close relationship with nostalgia. Though it is important to live in the present and for the moment, it is important to remember where we have come from and the moments and words that have made us who we are today. Thank you for filling my box, my heart, and my life. Thank you for your time and your encouragement. Thank you for your love. Thank you for your words. They have made me who I am and continue to fill my heart today.

Thanks again for a perfect Thursday evening. Each of you filled my living room and my heart to the brim. You have touched my soul and my being. Whether you live near or far, know I hold you in my heart and always will. I hope someone can touch your life in the same way you have touched mine. Thanks for being in my box.

Skylines and Mixtapes

Do you have a favorite kind of scene in movies? You might love a good high speed chase. The moment when the guy gets the girl might send your heart racing. Or maybe you live for the moment when good wins, and the bad guy is locked in a dark underground cellar to meat his grueling fate, the kind of fate that created that crude saying about karma. (My mind is trailing to The Call starring Halle Berry. Apparently this movie left a mark on me. Watch it. Wait, no don't. I'll let you decide.)

Though each of these scenarios make for a great movie scene, none of them make the top of my list. I lean toward the more overlooked scene, but much more meaningful in my opinion. You'll probably know what I am talking about if you watch many 1990's Romcom's or if you are prone to watch Lifetime movies (Be honest. You have been sucked in by one a time or two). 

In this general scene, the protagonist is sitting in the passenger seat of a car looking out the window. Their hand is usually resting under their chin, and they are lost in their thoughts as the scenery outside the window continues to change. More often than not, the quintessential song to capture their current emotion is playing over the radio, and even though they aren't saying a word, you, being the audience, become lost in the character's thoughts and seem to know exactly what they are thinking. If the character is sad or introspective, it will always be raining, and the track playing will be nothing other than a song that is most likely requested 7 out of 10 nights on the "Love Songs with Delilah" portion of a radio broadcast...either that or an acoustic version of a song that used to make you smile, that somehow, after instrumentals are removed, now has the power to make you cry. In a different variation of this scene, the character will be walking down the street, and the camera view will turn upwards toward the city skyline, an upbeat song will begin to play, and you will see the character realize that they have the world at their fingertips and that the possibilities are endless.

A couple of weeks ago, I was walking to meet a friend for lunch downtown. My destination was particularly far away, so I decided to pop in my earbuds. I turned on one of my favorite acoustic albums and began to walk. As I walked, I began to look up, around, and in every direction. Music filled my ears, and, though I was silent, thoughts began to fill my head. The sky was blue, the only clouds in the sky were puffs of white, and the immensity of the structures surrounding me was overwhelming.  I began to notice the details in the architecture surrounding me, the beauty, the craftsmanship, and the planning it took to get there. As the guitar strings sounded on my playlist, I had one of those moments where I realized how small I am, how big the world is, and how exciting it is that God placed me in a life waiting to be explored and discovered. I couldn't help but wish I had a video camera in hand to capture the reality and essence of that moment. I can only wonder if film makers have had a similar experience which inspired them to create the type of scene I previously mentioned in the movies they create time and time again.

It seems that music, especially in certain situations, has the ability to provoke thoughts and encourage reflection. It is a bridge between shared thoughts in both the past and the present between strangers who never have and never will meet. Listen to the radio for an hour, and you probably will find a song with something you can relate directly to (depending on the station you tune to of course).  Watch your favorite movie or television show, and you will most likely notice that background music is present 80% of the time. We don't always notice it's presence, but we would probably notice it's absence.

What is it about these tracks? What about a mixtape helps us feel like we can better define life, thoughts, and emotions? Here's my take on it. Walking downtown with my earbuds out, I tend to get distracted. I hear a car screeching to a a halt on my right, hear an ambulance to my left, and pick up bits and pieces of conversations of each cluster of businessmen I pass. Walking with music, I noticed, makes me stop. It makes me focus in a way I couldn't otherwise. I feel the emotion within the song and seek to transfer that feeling to what I can see all around me.

Too often, we miss the beauty and the detail in the scenery surrounding us. Too often, we are afraid to shut out the noise and distractions to listen to our own thoughts. I would consider myself to be a deep thinker. I tend to be introspective anyways, however, those moments like I mentioned always catch me off guard.

I hope I never forget how small I am and how big the world my God created is. If I let that slip away, I would forget how much of the world I have left to see. One way or another, I am going to see as much of it as I can. God created a world and a life for each of us. It's waiting. We just have to look around to see it. It might take a song to make you stop, or maybe an intricately designed skyline.

Whatever that trigger might be for you, don't miss those moments God created just for you. Moments to stop, look, and reflect. Deep thoughts interwoven with seemingly perfect lyrics and chords. This is your life, and it's your song. God wrote it for you.

No matter how much we may want it to be, life is not a movie. It's not always a walk through Central Park with the perfect tune playing. There are tears, pain, joy, and surprises to experience along the way, and all of our problems aren't solved within a 96 minute running time.

I think that is ok though.  I don't know what track will play next in my story, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I don't have to know because he does. He is the perfect conductor and the ultimate storyteller. The scenery passing me by and all that I see around me is no mistake. He placed me right where He wants me to be with the view He wants me to have today to help remind me that I am a part of His world and His story, not mine.