Hidden Away in Possum Kingdom : Spring Break 2012

Look at me blogging away two days in a row! Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, but in the midst of college this is such a bigger deal than I'm writing it like. I'm actually doing a small happy dance. Inside that is :D 

Today is another Blogtember prompt [which I have been AWFUL about keeping up with] and it's incredibly simple: a memory you would love to relive

This took me no time at all to think about, and it's pretty much my go to answer for this question. Friends, I introduce you to Spring Break 2012: Possum Kingdom Version

December 2011, I was getting ready to head home for Christmas break from Impact 360. Right before we jumped onto planes and into vans Colton, my fellow Texan, mentioned how fantastic it would be if we spent Spring Break roadtripping down to Texas for the week and then back up to Georgia. We mostly laughed, until London [Texan #2] mentioned that he just happened to have a lake house down on Possum Kingdom Lake. The laughter quieted down a little bit as people stopped imagining and started glancing at each other, and 4 months later March ended, April dawned, and 24ish Impacters were loading up 3 cars and Dallas bound. 

We spent a couple of days in Dallas, and then headed out to the lake. The drive was beautiful and nothing but backroad interstate...and finally we ended up HERE

We stayed at London's.....just enough space to be cozy & seperate all at the same time. Mornings dawned late and nights ended later. We spent hours lounging in the hot tub, before finally spreading and settling down for the night. We went cliff jumping and jet skiing and even went on a late afternoon sunset adventure hike, and I got to know my friends on a deeper level than ever before.

This was our fuzzy caterpillar. Me & the best friend found this little guy one afternoon when he was using the pool and I was sleeping on the side. We took about a billion pictures, and named him Wilbur....and then the best friend creeped pictures of me curled up in the sun. 

The sunsets were beautiful, the conversations were priceless, and of all the moments that hold my heart this week contained most. One last memory (and a few more pictures) and you're free to escape ;) 

Our second day there, the morning started w/ rain. The wind whistled across the porch and brought with it the last chilly morning of spring. Best friend and I curled up on the porch outside, pulled out the old school Nintendo 64, wrapped blankets around our shoulders, tucked freezing toes under warmer legs, and played James Bond until the rain stopped. I say "played"....he played, I embarrassed myself, then died alot, then lost :D We played until the rain stopped, slid down the stair case, laughed at how wet we got landing in the grass, and tucked up in the garage in the golf cart to talk. And then we talked for hours.  

Rainclouds broke into a beautiful sunset, and I laid on the grass to snap a picture of the sun rising out of the earth. We trotted to the gazebo in the background, me giggling because I couldn't find words for how content I was. He danced me around, made fun of me, and laid out exactly how he would use this gazebo in a scene from a movie - IF he could shoot one ;) 

I smiled on the outside. Inside was all happy dance. 

While the rest of the world rolled by [and we forgot it existed] the sun slipped into the lake, no ripples, all reflection. 

We walked back to the house, watched the world fall asleep, sat on the couch, and talked till the sun came up. 

He remembered stories and I laughed at the good parts and when the bad came around I cried for someone else for the first time. 

It was the perfect week. 

And there ladies and gentlemen, you have the description of my perfect day & my most treasured memory :) 

All rolled into one! 

Little Nuggets of Wisdom.

Day 3: Pass on some useful advice or information you learned and always remembered. 

Welcome back for Day 3! Here I am. I made it back.

I think the single most incredible piece of advice I've ever been given came from my big "sister":

"just remember bethany that any kind of comparison is an indication of pride" 

If you're talking about something I've never been able to forget OR get out of my head, that's it. BUT it also requires so much more explanation and unpacking than I'm doing in Blogtember....plus, I already kind of blogged about it here ;) So feel free to hop on over! 

Otherwise, I'm gonna claim the one below, because it's definitely one of my favorites! And it calls me to look for the deeper good within days that on the surface seem pretty meh :) 

{source}

Welcome to the Blogtember Family! 

Move-In Eve: Two Years Later.

‘The new Impact 360 class is moving in tomorrow.’

I had to stand in the middle of my room, letting the thought scroll through my head. Pause long enough to stand still and really think about it. It was so hard to wrap my mind around that I decided to say it out loud, hoping maybe hearing the words would help them make a little bit more sense.

“The new Impact 360 class is moving in tomorrow.”

I cocked my head to the side and rolled the words around in my mouth, the taste strange and a little bit foreign. Maybe a tad slower?

“The new Impact 360 class is moving in. To Impact. tomorrow.”

The words echoed and seemed to grow in volume as they bounced around the very undecorated walls of a stereo-typical, cookie cutter, white walled college dorm room. I sighed and sat down in the roommates chair, head in my hands. None of this was helping. I could hear laughter out in the hall, and out the window two people walked by, hand in hand silhouettes. Life carried on and the minutes ticked by and no one else seemed to realize that I was in the middle of an emotional, mental, spiritual crisis.

THE NEW IMPACT 360 CLASS WAS MOVING IN TOMORROW.

One year this same thing had happened…a handful of strangers had walked into the doorway of my Eden, and crushed our memories into the foundational gravel they needed to make their own. They’d stepped hesitatingly into the great unknown, completely unaware that we had already walked there and left our marks on benches and our initials carved into the dark corners of trees that boasted whispered secrets you’d had to crouch to hear. They’d moved through rooms and not noticed the smiles, moments and memories, hands held in secrets that the walls had soaked in and held quiet. They’d put head to pillows, night after night, blissfully ignorant of the year worth of tears that same soft lump had soaked up mere months ago.

And I hadn’t remembered until I saw the Instagram of their first hall meeting late that night.

Call it crazy, call it selfish, because when strangers move into your home shouldn’t you realize it? But I didn’t. I’d kept moving because it was hard enough putting one foot in front of another in this new path in South Carolina, without thinking about the fact that I COULDN’T go back. I’d focused on the promise that the sun would rise in the morning and set at night, and when I got through that day I put my head on the pillow and prayed the same thing would happen the next. By the time I had a whole slew of days behind me, having a new little family to partly call mine seemed almost natural…the fact that they had taken home & made it theirs seemed like something to celebrate, not mourn! Visiting meant open arms and curious smiles, new friends to be made, new stories to hear, new lives to be explored.

But this year it’s a little bit different, and as my head leaned on roommate’s desk I was unable to escape the fact that I’d finally come face to face with the difference. My eyes scanned a college dorm room that was not mine no matter how hard I tried to make it so or how many times I tried to pretend that it was, and at the same time my heart cried deep in my chest that this wasn’t home, and could we please, please go back to what was?

Because after a year and a half of walking through life, I’m tired of not belonging. I’m tired of stretching so far from sanctuary. I’m tired of life continuing with no way for me to slow it down or make it stop, and I’m tired of relationships that stretch to their breaking point only to snap back just in time to make you smile and cry all at the same time. I’m tired of my heart being broken into different pieces and never feeling like they’ll all be in the same place again.

I’m sad that I walked out of Eden, and was too stubborn to even turn around to watch the gates shut behind me.

But how do you explain that to a bouncing, bubbling class of freshmen that have their whole lives ahead of them?

“Um, excuse me, but what you don’t know is this is mine?” “You’ll never be able to appreciate this quite as much as I did?” “Life is moving slowly and things aren’t working out like I planned, so please take your happiness and make memories elsewhere because I’m going to try and crawl my way back to the last time I fully felt at home?”

You can’t.

You can’t tell the littles to hug their families hard, because no matter how many times you refuse to admit it, in about a month Momma’s smile and Daddy’s arms are going to feel like the oasis in the desert you’re too far away from. You can’t tell them not to rush into pretending that they love their roommates when they’re really not sure, because pretending doesn’t help anything and walking through the fire with someone you don’t trust only means more walls when you need less. You can’t tell them not to rush to May, because running means you fall easier and once you cross the finish line there’s no way to take back all the nights you should have walked away from or relive the days you should have been a little more open minded about. You can’t tell them to put down the telephone and pick up the Bible, and no sweetie I know he seems like the best thing but I promise Jesus is better.

And somewhere in the midst of all this crazy heart knot, I find half of me wanting to help them and half of me wanting to be them.

I didn’t want to be the last class….I wanted to run away from memories and pain and hurt and futures that said not right now and whispered maybe not ever. And now in the midst of white walls and open roads, I’m beginning to realize that the future is a lot scarier than I ever thought it would be, and who did I think I was kidding when I said coming back didn’t scare me?

I want to relive it…and I’ve never understood the people who said they would relive it differently. I could stand up and preach change and pretend regret, but the truth is if I went back in one way or another I’d make the same mistakes all over again. Because no matter how much I try to keep it at an arms length, my heart wants community the same way it did 2 years ago. It wants a smiling face and flannel clad arms and late nights when the rest of the world faded and for the first time in my life I belonged to someone and something I could come home to. It wants rest and peace and the quiet of an untouched garden, because no matter how much the garden is temporary, staying is security and leaving is NOT.

And coming boldly before an all gracious yet all powerful Savior is something I have yet to learn how to do.

And I think the balance here is somehow realizing how to set contentment in the God who created Eden, not the people who reflected Him within it. But I haven’t learned how to do that yet, and it’s something He’s teaching that my heart doesn’t want to learn all the time. Because no matter how excited I get thinking about new depths and new heights, I’ve trod the old ones and know all the potholes. I know the stumbling blocks to avoid and the places where the path walks easy. I know when the rocks rip through tender, bare souled feet, and where the grass soothes in a cool breeze. I know the path. I’m comfortable because I know it well enough not to need somebody to walk alongside me and tell me when to duck, when to step over the puddles, and which berries are poisonous and which taste like summer.

And somewhere in the midst of comfort is a God that calls me out of it in His infinite goodness and I’m not ready for that and He knows it. And I think in a lot of ways He laughs just a little bit, because the thought of me realizing I need Him is delightful, and the thought of His growing girl grabbing His hand because she’s still scared of thunder storms is exciting, and the idea of a “big” girl realizing she really DOES always need her Daddy is something He’s been waiting for me to realize for a very, very, very long time. 

a few so whats, and a few apologies

One of the wonderful bloggers that I follow, the lovely Chrissi over at Home Is Where The Heart Is, does this quirky little thing called 'So What Wednesday'. First of all, everyone should go click on that link and check out her blog because it's fantastic! And secondly, this post is going to be a little bit of a copy [or the idea anyways] of her lovely idea :) So all credit goes to her!

I realized as I was looking forward to my upcoming weekend and week that there's a couple of things going to be occurring that I should probably apologize in advance for. I was going to wait and write this out tomorrow afternoon right before I left, but I realized if I waited (with the minimal amounts of sleep I've gotten PLUS early mornings get ups) 'So What Wednesday' would probably turn into 'Take THAT Life! Thursday'. So. In order to avoid mindless ranting Bethany...we're doing this tonight ;) Here we go!

I apologize in advance for:

1. The massive amounts of Instagram pictures that will be taken on my way to Georgia, at Alumni Reunion, of my best friends, of my bored face on the plane to Hawaii, in Hawaii with my family, and all the way back. We're talking MULTIPLE pictures a day people. Handfuls & handfuls. We've discussed my phototaking problem before. Hashtag: InstaAddict. 
2. The equal [and probably much greater] amounts of tweets that will be tweeted, consisting of absolutely NOTHING serious and all ridiculous. My family is quite honestly just hilarious when we get together...and SOMETIMES I feel the need to share that with the world...
3. Any and all Facebook status that consist of me going "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" in ways that translate to "I'M AT ALUMNI REUNION!!" and "WE JUST LANDED IN HAWAII!!!!" Sorry about that. Really. Especially is you're one of those people who translates all caps to mean the voice in your head that's reading needs to scream at you too. 
4. The possibility of multiple blog posts reading "We did this today. It was awesome. Followed by this. Also awesome." But at least there will be lots of pictures! 

I say I'm sorry for these things jokingly, because the truth is I'm really not ;) I'm beyond excited to think that in less than 2 days I'm going to be reunited with some of my favorite people in the world, and then getting to travel with my family. And, if I didn't scare you away and you want to come along, you can follow me on Twitter here and on Instagram here! And just to end on a fantastically hilarious note...happy Wednesday everybody! [Hump DAY!] 

day 19: celebration.

.CELEBRATION. 

I will confess that I'm posting this late [and a little bit fast] because I have Tobuscus YouTube date scheduled with my baby brother, and we both wanna get on that :) SO, without further ado. celebration. 

The word celebration brings back a host load of memories for me, the most memory full one being Celebration Retreat spent in the mountains a year and one month ago. But that's most definitely a story for another place, another heart emptying, and another time. 

There is so much in my life to celebrate, I'm not entirely sure where to start. 

-my family-

the one I was born to and the one I've been given in pieces throughout the last 20 years

-my placement-

I can honestly say I've been given the opportunity to live in three of the most beautiful states ... but then again I'm a little bit biased 

[texas, southcarolina, georgia]

-my memories-

good & bad, these are some of my most treasured possessions 

-grace-

last year, I read 1000 Gifts by Ann Voskamp

She introduced the idea that every trial, joy, celebration, heartbreak and memory we encounter is a grace gift from a perfectly good God 

it's changed the way I look at people, opportunities, and hard circumstances

if you can read it, do. 

These were only 4 things, but they tap 4 major areas of my heart. To me celebration means rejoicing in the completion of a lengthy and arduous task set before you. It means graduations from childhood to adulthood, from selfishness to selflessness, from death to life, from tears to laughter, from hopelessness to joy, from youthful thinking to maturity. 

It is rejoicing in the shift from one section of life or one heart attitude to another. 

from finite to eternity 

"I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent" 
-Luke 15:7- 

day 9: hell on Earth.

I'm gonna go ahead and dive straight into this one, because it's probably going to end up being on the longer side. The word of the day is: .hell. And to just go ahead and be really, really clear, I don't have anything theological or ridiculously profound to say about this subject. I was raised in a Bible Church that taught us in elementary school Sunday School that going to hell meant we were going to burn alive for the rest of eternity, which was terrifying for me because growing up my biggest fear was that my house would spontaneously catch fire, and I would burn alive caught inside. When I got older and could actually grasp the concept, I was taught that what hell actually meant was "eternal separation from God", which I'll confess didn't mean much to me. I was saved young, and if you've heard my testimony you know that a huge struggle of mine early on was understanding the Gospel because I didn't understand what Jesus was saving me from. I was a "good" kid. So instead of trying to drudge up something meaningful to say about what hell is, I'm going to tell a story.

In January of 2012, my class of Impact 360-ers packed up and flew to Brazil for a month on a missions trip. If you've been on this blog for a little while and somehow missed my connection to Impact 360 & the people there, ask me about it. It's a different story for a different time, but one I would love to tell. But anyways. A week into the trip our team split in half, with half of us going to host camp at Porto Alegre, and the other half flying out to Florianopolis [a smaller town on the beach] to host VBS and do repair work for local churches. To make a longer story short, the trip was hard. It was emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually draining. HARD. 

Our third week there we drove out to the Cadi, a organization that took kids in from the surrounding pavelas (slums) and kept an eye on them, making sure they were fed, taken care of, and getting some sort of education. We got to host a VBS for these kids, as well as paint and restructure what would soon be one of their new classrooms. It was our last project in Florianopolis, and I can honestly say that starting the week I was ready to go home. 

The first night we worked in the Cadi we came back to our camp and had a team meeting. Going into the team meeting I was fine. And then suddenly, I wasn't. I don't know what happened or what snapped, but all of a sudden I felt unbelievably, ridiculously empty. At the time I tried to pass it off as exhaustion or sadness. I had had recent conversations, hard conversations with two very close friends of mine, neither of which had come to any sort of conclusion. However, as soon as I walked out of the main house I knew that wasn't it. I walked back down the hill with Payton, my roommate, and we sat down on some stairs outside of the rooms. She didn't ask me what was wrong, she just started to play guitar. Eventually a handful of our friends wandered over and we had an impromptu worship session, something that was somewhat of a habit for us. I stared off into space for what I thought was 5 or 10 minutes, and was later informed was more like an hour. Eventually it got late and since we had a full day of work tomorrow everyone headed off to bed. Kartwright walked over to me and tried to get me to talk for a few minutes, before finally taking a few steps back. He finally sighed, wished me goodnight, and walked off. As soon as he shut his door, I broke. 

I have cried before, but this was sobbing. I mean bent at the waist, doubled over, body shaking, hit the ground because you can't hold yourself up anymore sobbing. I was curled up in a ball at the foot of the stairs, gasping for air because I couldn't take breaths big enough to keep me oxygenated before I started crying again. The only 2 people up besides me were our leader and a girl he was talking to on the other side of the stairs....other than that, I was completely alone. 

Let me say this. I can't say for sure that I know what it feels like to have your soul ripped from the one who created it...forever. But that night, I'm pretty sure I got a piece. See, that entire trip I spent frustrated because I couldn't understand the Gospel. I couldn't understand why this one message made people cry and run forward and break in the middle of their lessons. I didn't understand the need, the unquenchable longing in your heart for something that only God could truly fulfill. I didn't understand what it was to be empty. But laying there that night on the stairs, too weak to pick myself up and walk to my room, I finally understood. I cried outside for half an hour, begging God to do something, anything to show me that He cared. I didn't care if that was a shooting star, a voice, a miracle, or just someone coming outside to hug me. I was begging for anything. Never in my LIFE have I felt so alone. I never doubted that God was there...I only doubted that He cared. I knew that He heard me...I couldn't understand why He wasn't reaching me out and putting the jagged edges of my heart back together. It was like I could see Him, feel Him, watching me across the darkness, completely unresponsive to my grief, pain and heartbreak. I have never felt so meaningless, worthless, hopeless, and unbelievably devoid of life. 

I don't know what Hell will look like, feel like, or entail. But if being separated from the Lord eternally feels anything like that night, I have never been more thankful for Christ OR the Gospel. The awareness of my need for a Savior, for hope and meaning and life has never been more apparent to me than in those 2 hours I spent listening to music and crying my eyes out. I went into Brazil begging that God would help me understand the Gospel, and He did. He just took me the painful, I promise after this you won't ever forget what I did for you, route. And just so this story doesn't end on what seems to be an absolutely awful note:

I finally got to bed and told myself that everything would look better in the morning, because that's what I've heard all my life. It didn't look better in the morning. I was an absolute wreck and I was barely holding it together. Pam walked up to me just to ask me how I was doing, and I broke down and told her the whole thing. She, at a complete loss for what to say, prayed for me, hugged me, and put me on the bus off to the Cadi for the day. That day was the last day of VBS, and I was responsible for sharing the salvation bracelets with the kids, which basically meant I would stand up and tell the Gospel story, before finally closing with inviting them to pray the salvation prayer along with me. Needless to say, The Lord and I weren't on the best terms after last night. I didn't understand WHAT He was doing and I didn't want to share the Gospel. I felt like I couldn't. How could I share something I didn't understand? But I did it because I had too, and after finally getting through the story and bowing my head I invited the kids to pray along with me and started the prayer. 

Of the 90+ kids in that room that day, almost every single one of them repeated after me.

I don't know how many of them fully understood, and how many of them genuinely received Christ. But it was the final point of realization for me. Hearing almost 100 clear, beautiful voices praying to Jesus Christ in Portuguese, asking for salvation shot straight through my heart, and I broke for the Gospel for the first time. 

Of all my experiences in Brazil, this is the clearest :) The phrase "I'm thankful I'm not going to Hell" doesn't seem sufficient. It blows my mind. My soul DESERVES to go there....in my fallen, broken humanity, it's where I belong. But because I serve a God who loves to be glorified through His mercy, I will NEVER experience it. And for that, I am broken, undeserving, and indescribably thankful. 

day 8: falling.

Posting on the late side today, even for me, because we just pulled in from ouof town! We were up in Warren attending the funeral of my Mamaw's sister-in-law, and although it was sad it was a beautiful service celebrating the life of an incredible daughter & prayer warrior of the Lord. So between the celebration of Aunt Johnny Ruth being in heaven, and the family I got to see & speak to this weekend, it was both a sad and joyous occasion. 

My word for the day is : FALL. 

This one is courtesy of Rachel Bownds, one of my very bestest friends (the kind your parents claim on their tax exemptions...) and the fact that it is I find kind of funny. She said I could interpret it as the season, the act of falling in love, or whatever else came to mind. If you have been around me for any extended period of time, you know there really is only one way to interpret this word in regard to my personality :D

Let's just get this out of the way.... I AM THE CLUMSIEST PERSON IN THE WORLD.

I'm  not exaggerating. At all. Any one that's close to me can vouch for the truthfulness of this statement. When I was young I tried to blame it on not growing into my body yet, but I think by the age of 19 and the change of NOTHING, I have to finally own up and admit that I have no sense of balance, grace, or the ability to walk straight in the world :D 

I have injured myself in legitimate ways....and those I don't mind. Sports injuries, being run into by people, tripping over things that were legitimately in the way that I just didn't see. THAT'S okay. However, the other 1/2 of this is the slightly embarrassing ones. I walk into doors, walls, windows, and yes, cars. I get moving so fast I don't even process what's in the way of me and where I'm trying to get to. I've tripped and fallen over absolutely nothing, though at the time I think I tried to blame invisible dirt clods or grass hills that (funnily enough) hadn't been a problem for anyone else. 

Of all the people in the world, no one knows this better than my Impact 360 family. Living with people 24/7 makes it hard to hide these kinds of traits ;) From Adventure Module, where I twisted my ankle over a root, to commissioning at the end of the year where I BARELY made it across stage in heels, I have taken more spills, awkward tumbles, and embarrassing face plants in front of these people than anyone else....the most painful of which was me trying to run to the Davis House in the pouring rain, slipping through a puddle, taking the majority of the skin off my left foot, and trying to 'walk it off' until, thankfully, Kartwright [the sensible one in our friendship] made me sit down and wrap it up :) 

The picture is me trying to walk down the surfboard aisle at Walmart. I SWEAR I didn't do anything...but Stephie turned around just in time to watch an entire wall of surfboards fall over on top of me as I walked past. Needless to say it was hilarious, and it wouldn't have happened to anyone BUT me. Go figure ;) 

Feelings are what you make them?

Soo today in class we were talking about feelings. And Basie asked if people could really make other people feel things! So of course, the obvious answer is "duh. If your pushing my buttons, of COURSE I'm gonna get angry at you."

Prepare for a mind blowing moment here....

People CAN'T MAKE YOU FEEL THINGS. Sure, they can make a situation uncomfortable or try and tick you off, but the actual feelings part is LESS about what they're doing in the situation and MORE about how your reacting. For example, why is it that when my friend calls me weird I laugh it off, but when someone else calls me weird I get offended about it? To some degree, it's about how we PERCEIVE the situation.

I just realized that I write a lot of words in caps. EXCITING.

Anyhoo :P

This was just a really cool realization for me, because I've always thought that you couldn't help who made you mad, ticked you off, or who made your stomach feel like it was full of butterflies. Now I find out that in fact, you actually can. Or at least seriously influence it!

Impact 360 is mind blowin' ya'll. Just sayin' :)