A Lasting Love.

I seriously feel like I have been on a Lucy/Stupid-train ever since I returned to Oxford. I am going to blame it on the euphoria of being back in my beloved secondary home, but it is beginning to get a tad bit ridiculous. I have said the most off-the-wall absurdities lately- including the one I am about to share. If you know me well, you know I am obsessed with old people and the obnoxiously cute things that they just naturally do. My heart seriously turns into mush when I see an old couple like the picture above. Well, today I was riding in the car with Tate, and we passed by the Square where I saw an elderly couple walking down the street. My heart began its pitter-patter, and I proclaimed,

"Oh my gosh, they are so precious. I want to be like them when I am that old."

Normal reaction right? Maybe a little over-dramatic, but still normal. Well, apparently the money my mother shells out for my contact lenses is going to schmuck because of Tate's reply:

"Shelby, that is two men...."

I tried. Who knew the man just really liked colorful plaid shirts? So, I guess I should say they were precious friends.

My whole point here though is that I saw (or what I thought I saw) a lasting love. A love that had conquered all. A love that persevered in times of trouble, rejoiced in times of triumph, danced in times of celebration, and lasted throughout all of these. The kind of love that changes your life completely.

Although my "cute couple" turned out to be two old men, I was introduced to the true form of "lasting love" this past week as well. As I was reading my Bible, I came across this verse:

"By this, all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have LOVE for one another."- John 13:35.

This is THE lasting love. Our lives are molded and designed to carry out one simple task- LOVE. We are simply asked to love one another. (Yet, this can sometimes be a great challenge- but nonetheless, a wonderfully powerful one). This verse suggests that people will know we are HIS by our LOVE.

And what kind of love were we given that we are now asked to give?

A lasting love. A love that conquers all. A love that perseveres in times of troubles, rejoices in times of triumph, dances in times of celebration, and lasts throughout all of these. A love that changes our lives completely.

Capsized.

So, as promised in my first blog, I have a TRUE Lucy moment to share. It seriously is my everyday lifestyle, but I have an extreme recent Lucy occurrence. It would of course include this:



High heels. The death of me. No, this is not my shoe, (isn't it sassy though?) but it was a similiar pink heel that led me to transform into my Lucy alter ego. I was ONLY trying to enjoy my night with my friends at the lovely KA house, but of course humiliation loves me and chooses to follow me constantly. On with the story, I had almost made it through the night without a blunder, and I had actually gotten compliments on the shoes. Well, the shoes got a little too arrogant and decided to show out.

I walked into the kitchen to find a friend to ask when we were leaving- LEAVING. I was so so close to being out of the danger zone. Well, the shoe obviously had become unbuckled much to my complete lack of knowledge, and just as a group of probably ten people were getting up from a table, I fell flat on my HANDS and KNEES in the middle of the KA kitchen. Mind you, this was not a quiet fall. The room went completely silent, but only for half of a second. Then I was hearing all variations of "that girl is so messed up." While I was searching for my long, lost friends Grace and Composure on the kitchen floor, I felt an arm go around mine, and a boy was helping me back on my feet. I quickly began to issue my "I'm so sorry- I don't know how this happened- I don't even drink even though I look like a raging drunk- I am COMPLETELY SOBER- this is just my humiliating every day lifestyle- thank you so much" spill."

I was completely sober and had fallen flat on the floor. Sadly, I have done this before.

Yet, not many people believed me. They didn't know that I was the clumsiest person they would ever encounter. They didn't know that I had a history as long as the Nile of unlucky and humiliating moments. They didn't know me. All they knew is what they saw- and my fall could have made Snooki look sober.

I feel like in life we judge from the capsize moments. We see the fall, don't give the benefit of a doubt, and write it off as what we perceive the situation to be. No one in the room thought I was clumsy- they thought I was drunk. If they had known me, they would have known it was pure lack of balance. Life is, in a sense, the same. We don't take the time to get to know the large majority of people around us. We live by what we see and hear and don't take the time to find real truth. People around us plead, just like I did, that I'm not what you think I am, I am something completely different. But, if we were honest with ourselves, do we hear them? Or are we living life by our own eyes and our own perceptions and oblivious to the capsize moments of people around us and the truth behind these moments?

Just thoughts from my time on the floor :)

Feels like Home to Me

My new obsession. Seriously. I was obsessed.

Close-up of the pillows (please note the doll :) )

My side :) Half of my side/Maggie's side

This is my new "home," and I love it. My favorite thing is probably my new Oxford canvas. I really did not believe in love-at-first-sight until I saw it, but now, I am a true believer. I literally called my mother in a frenzy, sped to the restaurant where we were supposed to meet, rushed through my meal, drove her back to the antique store, bought the painting, and was ten minutes late for my move-in time because of this purchase. I mean- that is true love is it not? If you are still not convinced, let me illustrate another picture for you. This canvas is supposedly 24 x 48. Now, imagine Shelby, who was not blessed in the common sense department, with a 24 x 48 canvas in the middle of a parking lot at prime-time-scorcher with a loaded down car with only centimeters of empty space. Needless to say, it took me a while to get the painting in the car.

However, the canvas was only the sprinkles on top of my cake, because the true delight was getting to see all of my sweet friends that I had missed so much. Living with my pledge class all on the same floor is indescribable. It has been so much fun, and it has only been a few days. I am sure many, many more stories will be unfolded about this floor during the year.

I also now have a Twitter. I am now a definite technology nerd. It is becoming a problem.

Finally, I went to church on Sunday with some of the lovely Deegs, and I loved it. As I close with this blog, I wanted to share the first thing the preacher said. He started off with "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." Of course this is referring to 1969 exploration to the moon, but since the preacher is so amazing, he linked it to our daily lives. Each small step we take can make a giant change in our lives. Everywhere Armstrong's foot landed, he was, in a sense, claiming territory for America and science. Every step we take, we are claiming territory by the life we live. So therefore, what small step will we take tomorrow, and what giant leap could it bring to our lives?

Milestone Home

It has almost been a MONTH since I have blogged last. Where has the time gone? My summer is now over, and I am back in Oxford for the August intersession. Yes, that's right, three and a half hours of MATH Monday-Friday. Lovely right? Ok, there is my pessimistic spill. No more.

So, during my long absence, I have gone from Texas, back to Brandon, and now to Oxford. I am currently sitting in High Point Coffee because Tara's internet is down right now, and I must say, sitting in a coffee shop with your computer in your lap and the perfect mocha to your right adds a whole new feeling of intelligence to your daily routine. Spoiler alert (my new term that I have received from all of the magazine articles and websites I visited trying to find out who Ali picked- I am a dork I know) this will be a longer blog since I have been gone so long.

So, I guess the most interesting thing to write about would be my trip to Texas. For those of you who don't know me that well, I guess I should say my place of birth was Houston, Texas, but Brandon will always be my hometown. So in July, my parents and I voyaged to Texas for a few days of catching up with old friends and oh yes, SHOPPING. The Galleria was so amazing- and I successfully entered a Coach store without going into cardiac arrest, drooling, and without buying anything. For those of you who know me well, you realize the magnitude behind this past sentence. HUGE deal. So on the last day of the trip as we were leaving Houston, my mom thought I should see my "first house." I sighed and began my whining tangent about how that was so cheesy, didn't understand the significance seeing that I did not remember a thing about the house, we had a seven hour drive and didn't need any other detour (throw in 23832 other complaints and you have my futile argument). Then my mother said something that I later would ponder over. She said, "But it is important. That is where you learned to walk. That is where you learned to talk. That was the house you were brought back to- it's where the milestones happened."


Where the milestones happened.


Now, when you're in a car for seven hours, you have a LOT of thinking time, and I began to think about what my mom said. Where the milestones happened. How many times in life are WE others' "first homes." We, ourselves, are where others' milestones happened. It could be as simple as one word of encouragement, one smile, or one conversation that transformed someone else's life completely. A milestone happened. Or it could be a lifelong influence and example that someone else observes and chases after. Yet again, another milestone. We might not remember the small-talk conversations, brief interactions, and the thousand hellos that we distribute throughout our daily lives, but one day, we might just be the "first home" for someone else. They might not remember it then, but one day they'll look back and say, "That's where the milestones happened." Therefore, I think in life, that is one of our purposes. We were designed to be the "first homes" for others. We were designed to make milestones happen.


I wish I had a beautiful picture to show you of my "first home," but unfortunately, I do not. However, here are 1,000 words of my trip in Houston.