See-Saws

So, today my blog is a little different than usual. On most days, I have a ridiculous, embarrassing story that takes up the majority of my blog. No fears, I still have a Lucy moment, but today I am being selfish with my blog and just pouring out my thoughts lately. However, before I get there- here's Lucy for you. Friday night, I was at the KA House (if you read Capsized, you're probably wondering why I even go back to the house- I am asking myself the same question as I type this) and I was once again, minding my own business. Then, long story short, a French exchange student comes up to me out of nowhere, tells me my jeans are too dark for my shirt, proceeds to tell me that my name is the name of an extremely hot car, grabs my hands, I have panic attack, and finishes his comedy act with "Don't be shy, leave your friends" and starts pulling me away. I quickly excused myself. That was seriously real life. No exaggerations. One day when I get to those gates, I am going to ask God the significance in my little French friend. Now, there's Lucy- now to my blog.
See-Saws. That's what is on my mind lately. Although these are generally associated with chidhood, I feel like they possess such a deeper representation in our lives. Given, we learned the basic foundation of its lesson when we were younger. One person has to come down before the other person can go up, and at times, you're going to be the one on the bottom.

Throughout our lives, we are constantly on a see-saw. We are as high as the clouds without a worry in the world, and suddenly, we are jerked back down so quickly that sometimes we don't land on our feet. Yet, that is the lesson and challenge in life- making the most out of your see-saw experience. Celebrating the highs and learning how to push yourself back off the ground when you're on the bottom. Just as a see-saw is rarely seen being balanced by two people without moving up and down, our lives do not promise perfect balance. No, they are full of high and lows, and life is what happens in between.

Furthermore, friendship is a see-saw. You should surround yourself with people that are willing to see-saw back down to the ground to lift you back up. That is the true definition of friendship. Likewise, you must do this in return. Friendship is constantly lifting the other person higher than yourself and lifting them back to their feet when they're on the bottom. On the other hand, when you're on the bottoom end of the see-saw, you have to rejoice for the friend who's experiencing the high. You have to love even when you're at your lowest and even when it's not you that's experiencing the tip-top of the "see-saw."

Finally, and what I feel like I am dealing with lately, is letting God control the see-saw called life. He doesn't always explain why you're on the bottom, but He does say, "Hey, hold tight, you'll be back on top soon. Trust me, and I can teach you something while you're down here." He doesn't promise that there will be perfect balance and peace in your life, but He does say "I have a plan for your life. Every high and every low- I'm right there with you- and there's a reason for your ups and downs." He doesn't promise that you'll always be on the top, but he does say "See the people who are on the bottom. They need my love. I came down so that you could go up. Therefore, go and lift them up as well."

So, in life, the see-saw is a continous motion. It is your choice who you put on the see-saw with you, if you make the most of the bottom, and who you let guide you even when there's no balance.

Where's the Enthusiasm?

So, school is DEFINITELY back in full swing. I survived my first Accounting test- although I have yet to see the fateful grade so crossed fingers would be appreciated- and have made it through a week of a speech, a paper, a quiz, and three tests along with a date party and meetings almost every day. Also, I am now on Rebel Radio on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 7-8, so this has become a new addition to the crazy agenda. Yet, I love it and would not have it any other way. And I am ever so thankful for this crazy hectic agenda because it keeps me moving and walking off all of the amazing food that I consume on a daily basis at the Deeg. So thank you crazy life. However, the inspiration for my post goes back a few weeks.

Public speaking. Did you know it is actually the number one phobia in the United States? (Thank you psychology class.) I, however, have never had a problem with chatter, so I felt fully confident when we received our brief presentation assignment. We just had to talk in between a minute and a half totwo minutes and give a speech of self-introduction. I had this in the bag.

I figured out my clever introduction, I practiced it until I had it perfectly memorized and perfectly timed, I even had a visual aid for my speech. What could possibly be missing? I walked into class confident and ready to give my speech. After all, I was prepared. When it was my turn, I went to the front of the class, delivered my speech with minimal errors, and felt good about the grade I would receive.

Well, if you know me even the slightest bit, you know I can be obsessive about grades. Yes, this has gotten much better since I came to college and realized I am Elmer Fudd among some Einsteins and Sir Isaac Newtons, but it for the most part has still remained to a certain degree. Therefore, when I got my speech grade back I was horrified and infuriated that I got a 33 out of a 35. This is a little embarrassing to admit considering that if you do the math, this is 94%, but it was what the teacher wrote on my review that upset me.

"Smile, just a bit?"

I had points deducted from my speech because apparently, I did not smile and lacked enthusiasm. I have never thought of myself as an unenthusiastic person or definitely someone who won't smile. However, apparently to my teacher I am incapable of both. My first reaction was outrage. I delivered a great speech. I was 100% prepared. I mentioned Paula Dean and Rachel Ray and made corny jokes, and the class laughed. I even brought a visual aid. And the teacher has the audacity to tell me I DIDN'T SMILE. Like I said, I can be rather obsessive with grades. I would show her. I would go in the next time with eyebrows to the ceiling and a smile as big as the creepy cat in Alice and Wonderland and be the EXACT replica of June Cleaver.

After I calmed down, I began to think that maybe I didn't smile as much as I could have. Maybe I got so lost in trying to give the perfect presentation that I forgot the simple task of smiling. I was focusing on the words and not the delivery. I wanted it to be perfect but was distracted by the process of getting to perfection.

This reminds me of the two sisters Martha and Mary. Martha is a lot like me and my speech. She was scrambling around like a chicken-with-her-head-cut-off trying to have the PERFECT dinner and welcoming for Jesus. She was 100% prepared. She had it all planned out. She had the perfect delivery and felt confident about her work. Yet, Martha forgot to smile.

Yet, Mary knew how to smie. Mary was not concerned with the preparation, the delivery, memorizing all the right words to say, or being perfect, She simply just smiled. She was captivated by Jesus and was radiating in His every word. Mary had ENTHUSIASM.

I feel like we are Martha in our daily lives. We want everything to be so perfect, and we try so hard. Yet,we forget the most important aspect- ENTHUSIASM. We get caught in the preparation and forget to SMILE. We try so hard in life, and we try so hard in our daily walk. Yet, we fall so short. We cease to realize our preparations are not needed. We are called to do one thing. Show the enthusiasm of Christ through our lives. So quit worrying about your silly speech. Quit planning the perfect dinner like Martha. Quit planning what you will do tomorrow and trying to make everything fit into your 24-hour day.

Sit back, smile, and remember your enthusiasm.

"A City on a Hill"

I really don't even know how to begin.
Empathy is impossible.
Sympathy is endless.
Faith is essential.

I believe that God sends people in your life for several different reasons. Some are sent to teach you. Some are sent to guide you. Some are sent to serve you. Some are sent to forgive you. Some are sent to love you, and some are sent to INSPIRE you.

Mr. Tom Risher was sent to inspire.

Although I did not know Mr. Tom on a deep, personal level and did not see him on a daily basis, the times that I did see Mr. Tom, a radiant smile was permanently etched into his face. You could not bump into him and expect a brief encounter. No, Mr. Tom wanted to know how you were doing, how was your family, how was school, and anything else that finds its way into a caring and compassionate conversation. Mr. Tom genuinely cared for others, and his extraordinarily friendly manner and love for others was contagious and yet again, INSPIRING.

For those of you that know Mr. Tom and his story the past few years, you know that he is a true inspiration. He fought when the odds were against him and conquered in the midst of storms.

Yet, the main thing that made Mr. Tom a true inspiration was his unwavering faith. He would not hesitate a minute to tell you the blessings that God had bestowed in his life, and Mr. Tom gave God the glory in all things. Even when he faced trials, when most people would turn away and grow weary, Mr. Tom clung to God with a passion and a strength that can only be admired and wished for in most lives. My favorite place to see Mr. Tom was where, to me, he was in his perfect element. Standing outside of the church doors, he was there every Sunday with that beautiful, inspiring, smile waiting to greet you and tell you how glad he was to see you. Mr. Tom's faith was INSPIRATION.

The last time I saw Mr. Tom was a week or two before I came back to Oxford. I was at Newks with my parents, and when we went to find a table, we saw Mr. Tom eating and asked him to join us. Instantly, he came and sat down with his smile on his face and ready to talk. That conversation with Mr. Tom confirms my belief that Tom Risher was sent to the world to inspire. We were there for over an hour, and Mr. Tom talked the majority of the time about what God had done in his life, how thankful and blessed he was, how amazing God was, and one of the last things he shared was how excited he was about his newest form of service through ministry. If that does not shout inspiration to you, I do not know how else you could even fathom to define it.

This was a man who had faced a major trial, yet it did not even phase him due to his faith. No matter what came his way, he was busting at the seams to tell everyone what God had done in his life, constantly thanked God for everything in his life, talked about how amazing God was, and he could not wait to SERVE him. If we all had the passion, love, and drive that Mr. Tom Risher had for Christ and serving Him, our world would be a radically different place.

Mr. Tom Risher was "a city on a hill," and his light could not be hidden. His light touched and inspired numerous lives, and all that had the privilege to meet him will forever have part of his light with them.

The beauty of death in Christ and the Christian faith is perfectly stated in Mercy Me's song, and that's how I will end this tribute to an inspirational man.

"In Christ, there are no good-byes, and in Christ, there are no ends. So, I'll hold onto Jesus with all that I have to see you again."

I know that tonight Mr. Tom is standing in Heaven with that magical smile on his face, and I know that one day when I walk into Heaven, I will be greeted by that magical smile again.
Until then Mr. Tom, keep smiling. I love you.

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.