Daddy's Little Hippie

I love my dad. He is probably my favorite guy in the whole world (said in an adorable little 4 year old voice). He is pretty great, let's just be real. One of the jokes my dad and I have is that I am a hippie. He really enjoys referring to me as his little hippie. Sure, I don't shower as often as the average American, I like my hair being long and wavy, I wear flowers in my hair, I would go barefoot more often if I could, I use cloth shopping bags when I go to the grocery store, I recycle when I can (and have been sad because the waste management people do not bring enough recycle bags for our apartment complex), I bought a bike this summer to start riding to work/school to save on gas, and ... well the list goes on further. At first I was a little offended by being referred to as a hippie, but the more I thought about it the more I realized I'm not the 1960's type of hippie. So I am far more accepting of being "daddy's little hippie".

I like the idea of Reduce, Reuse, Recycle. It is not just throwing things in a blue bag and sitting it next to the dumpster, it is much more than that. It is taking better care of what we already have. This weekend I was talking with a friend about our generations lack of concern for what we have. The sense of stewardship among our generation is severely lacking. If we have something and we break it, no worries... we can buy a new one. What was even more disturbing is what my friend said to me. She was telling me that people younger than us up to their early 30's seem to have a lack in stewardship for not just their own things but others as well. Example: you allow someone to borrow something. They don't take care of it as you would like and it breaks. Then they give it back in many more pieces than when you lent it to them. They do not seem as concerned about the situation as you or I may be. What has happened to our stewardship? What has happened to our concern for other people or even ourselves?

One thing I have begun thinking ... well the hippie approach to thinking... we have been so trained and so conditioned to think that it is not a big deal and we can just go out and buy another (insert item). I'm not suggesting that anytime something breaks we should have a fit and begin mourning it like a lost family member or friend. That is a little excessive. We shouldn't even be mad at the person (or ourselves) for breaking whatever it is that is now broken. We should, however, take care of what we have and what others have been so kind as to allow us to use. What better way to "stick it to the man" (I'm a hippie... don't judge) than reusing something until we absolutely have no way of getting around getting a new whatever. Why do we really need two of this or that item? Why do we feel the compulsion to spend money on things we don't really need? Can I blame this on being raised int he land of the free? Because, I really want to do that. We seem to think that spending is no big deal. Being an American, we have been raised around an endless supply of whatever we have. We have been taught that limited supply does not, in fact, mean limited. Companies tell us things are "limited" so we will run out and buy them. Then it runs out but comes back two weeks later. Marketing has tricked us into thinking everything is limitless. We forget that things really are temporary.

We were allowed to use planet Earth short term as our home. We keep our homes clean and want people to feel at home in our homes. Shouldn't we keep our planet clean? Shouldn't we care enough to take care of what we have? We only have a limited time on Earth. It may feel like for-ev-er (said in a 16 year old valley girl accent). Our forever is not, in reality, forever. We are a tiny speck in the grand scheme of things. If we take care of what we have, we leave a better future for those coming after us for as long as the Lord allows. When a friend allows you to stay in their home, do you trash what is not yours? Or, do you take better care of it because you want them to let you use it again?

Taking small steps to make our "home" better makes this "home" better for our children's children's children... If the Lord allows things to go on that long or longer.

So, I am not ashamed I use cloth shopping bags. I am not ashamed I am trying to be better at riding my bike to work. I am not ashamed I don't shower as often as others do (that actually has nothing to do with conserving water... I'm just not ashamed of my lack of showering... too far? Too far...).

Blonde Brain part II

Well, if you read the first post Blonde Brain Part I then you know how mentally "blonde" I really am. If you haven't... you should. It will give you a little insight to my craziness. Here are a few recent stories about my Blonde Brain.

Redbox Amnesia 
One Friday night I was not feeling very well so I decided to rent a movie, order a pizza, and eat junk food all while laying on my couch. So I ordered my pizza, set up a little station near my couch, and headed out to the Redbox down the street. After perusing the available movies I choose "The Lorax" and "What to Expect When You're Expecting". I paid for the movies. Grabbed a movie, hopped in my car and began driving away. A friend text me and I told them what I was doing and I realized I rented two movies and walked away with one. I was half way to my apartment by this time. I turned around and went back to find my movie was no where to be found. The Redbox showed the movie was not there and the movie wasn't laying on the ground. My only thought was that someone had taken the movie I had paid for. I was hoping whoever the person was would return it in a day and I wouldn't be charged $35 for a movie I still haven't seen. So what did I do? I called the Redbox company. The lady who answered, Amy, was very sweet. I told her what happened and she said the movie was sucked back into the Redbox because it was there for an extended period of time... the best part was I wouldn't be charged for the movie. WOOHOO!!

I'm No Carpenter
Two days later my dad was going to come over and help me hang things up in my apartment. I have lived there for 4-41/2 months and there was nothing on the walls ... sad, but very true, story. I asked my personal Yoda's husband for a drill, which he so graciously let me borrow. My dad came over and began asking me where I wanted things hung up and what tools I had to do the job. -- Have I mentioned that I am in no way shape or form good at making anything look "pretty" when it comes to interior design? Also, I own zero tools and barely know how to use a screw driver. -- So my dad began measuring for me (he had to use a seamstress measure because that is all I own) and we had determined to go get tools from his house after we had measured where I wanted things hung up. I stood there and pretended I knew what he was talking about as he told me what he was doing. He asked me if I had a level. Then he asked me if I had a hammer. Then if I had other things. I looked at him and said, "do I look like I have any of those things? Hello, I assumed the drill bit that was in the drill is what was used for everything!" He laughed at me and began putting his shoes on, that was my cue for us to go to his house and get the appropriate tools for the job. Let's just say I am really glad I did not attempt that on my own. That would be an absolute disaster...

Spunky the Mouse in the Dean B. Ellis Library and Zoo
Almost every night during the week I study with my Chinese friend, Sophia, and my Korean friend, Kate. Last week Sophia and I were sitting in the third floor when we saw this little mouse run by us. We named him Spunky, Spunky the Mouse. We decided we would catch him and release him back into the wild (outside the library). So I crumbled up some of my cookies and made a trail from where he was hiding to an empty trash can we had laid on its side. We went back to doing our homework and Kate joined us for awhile. We told her of sweet little Spunky the mouse and our plan. Kate headed down to a lower level to work on some things and Sophia and I went back to homework. Every now and then we would look up in hopes of seeing Spunky. I noticed he had run into the men's bathroom and was sad because I knew I couldn't go in there and catch him. A librarian walked by soon after we made the discovery of Spunky in the men's bathroom (that is how we knew he was a he). I told the librarian about the mouse being in the men's bathroom. The librarian looked dazed and simply said: "in my 30 years of working here I have never had this as an issue." He continued standing there staring at me. He proceeded to walk into the men's bathroom. We knew he found Spunky when we heard a loud "STOMP!" Sophia and I blame ourselves for the vicious murder of Spunky the Mouse. We miss Spunky.
We picked up the school's newspaper today and noticed an article Library Mouse Stirs Students.

The Action in Waiting

Lately my heart has had this gnawing feeling. It is a feeling that I cannot shake, nor do I want to. It is that constant desire to leave everything that I know and everything that is comfortable and go to a new place. A place where nothing is familiar except the scenes from pictures I have looked at and movies I have watched. It is a feeling that I want to go to a place where everyone and everything is new. My heart beats a little faster and my mind wanders at the simple mention of a new place. What would it be like there? Who would I meet? What new things would I try? What are the names of the streets I might walk upon?

Home is not my home. When I leave town I always feel like I am going home. When I am coming back I feel like I am a stranger in a sea of familiar faces. I am more comfortable in a crowd of strangers than in a group of the familiars I have known for so long.

Then, as if God is audibly speaking to me I hear, "Not now my child. That time shall come. Be patient. Look where I have you. Be here. Live here. Love here. Wait for me. Do not get ahead of yourself." It is the words of a dear friend I continue to hear ringing in my mind: "God has not forgotten you. He is not skipping over you. He has a plan that will be far better than you or I could ever imagine."

As I read through scripture I am constantly reminded of the superior plans of God and the lacking plans of man. In Proverbs there are a few verses that say this explicitly.

"The plans of the heart belong to man, but the answer of the tongue is from the LORD."Proverbs 16:1 

"The heart of man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps."Proverbs 16:9

"Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the LORD that will stand.Proverbs 19:21

"The purpose in a man's heart is like deep water, but a man of understanding will draw it out."Proverbs 20:5

Then there are stories upon stories of how man planned things, God changed the plan, man was obedient (or disobedient in Jonah's case), and God was glorified. For so long I have had grand plans to do things, to go places, to live a certain way and now I am beginning to watch God change those plans. He has answered the many prayers I have prayed and has shown me the path to take. As for now, I sit and wait. Waiting is sometimes the hardest part.

"Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD!"
Psalm 27:14

"Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for Him; fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way, over the man who carries out evil devices!"

Psalm 37:7

"I waited patiently for the LORD; He inclined to me and heard my cry."

Psalm 40:1

"For God alone my soul waits in silence; from Him comes my salvation... For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from Him...Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us."

Psalm 62:1-8

"I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in His word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning."
Psalm 130:5

Waiting is the hardest part, but what is the proverb we have heard all of our lives? Oh yeah: "Good things come to those who wait." My heart has a gnawing desire that I cannot shake. I do not want to make it go away. So for now; I wait. I only pray that I can wait patiently and wait prayerfully. Waiting doesn't mean that I am sitting around twiddling my thumbs. Waiting is full of action. It is the action to fulfill what I am to be doing here. The actions to live, love, and learn. Waiting is a willingness to be preoccupied toiling in other ways in other places until the Lord takes me to a new place.