Grocery Lists (Am I An Adult Now?)

Milk. Eggs. Bread. Lettuce. Apples. Avocados.

So apparently I’m an adult now. I’ve lived apart from my parents for about two and a half years now, on and off a college campus (now even hundreds of miles away). I even make my own grocery lists, including anything from ice cream to dish soap. I don’t run them by my mom every time anymore either! I can make at least three different meals without calling my dad for help and 9/10 times I won’t burn anything. But does that mean I’m an adult? What is the grocery list for that? Rent. Making my bed. Cooking. Setting my own bed time.

I like to use cats as a bad analogy for this stage of my life as a “young adult” millennial. We’re like cats in that we can go about most of the day by ourselves, making decisions and such but sometimes we need someone to make sure we’re eating and clean up the messes we inevitably make. I know, it’s bad, but it’s almost close. It reminds me of those internet posts that say “I’m an adult but I need adultier adult, an adult who is better at adulting than I am.” I’m not really sure what marks you as an adult versus a young adult, everyone seems to have different opinions on it.

Can I take care of myself? Yes. Do I have to? No! Thank goodness! I could probably be okay if I was cut off from my parents, but I’m not so I don’t have to worry about it! They are incredible and support me on all kinds of levels! There is a lot that I wouldn’t have without them. They pay for things, text me pep talks, and insist on driving me down to Nash so I don’t have to go by myself. They tell me hard truths, encourage me in my dreams, and point me towards Christ. I am so glad I can lean on my parents, they amaze me and are a couple of my best friends.

However, that doesn’t make me less of an adult. I am an adult, even though I don’t always want to admit it. I was always an independent kid, and I still am. I am an independent woman and I can take care of myself, but I am finding that it is not only okay but necessary to ask for help sometimes. And it’s not shameful at all. Maybe, in fact, asking for help is on that grocery list for adulthood.

 

Advertisements

Oh Deer

I honestly don’t know how I have avoided hitting a deer with my car. Many people have told me I’m a horrible driver, yet I somehow retain the cleanest driving record in my family. I love the idea of deer in the headlights though, I think it is a very accurate way of describing that feeling. You know it, right? When you have no idea what you’re doing or you are thrown into a new situation by surprise? When your wide eyes are full of the sight of a truck hurtling towards you? Confession time: I’ve felt that a few times this past week here in Nash.

I have never been to Tennessee and I’ve never attended a music school. I’ve never had access to this kind of gear or these opportunities. I’ve never played my music for people this often or when it’s this raw and newly written. I’ve never had a steady requirement of performing my stuff every couple weeks. So, here I am, deer in the headlights in Nashville as I begin a program that very well could change my life and music career.

Now, deer in the headlights can be viewed as a type of fear. It very well may be for some people, there is a bit of fear in the realization of what is coming. But is the unknown really any scarier? Would it be scarier to cross a road in the dark, not knowing when the next car could crest the hill and blast you into oblivion or standing in the street with destruction staring you down with it’s headlights? I don’t have the answer for you, fear is a very personal thing. Truthfully, I am not sure they are all that different. There is fear either way, does it matter where it’s coming from? Maybe.

I have this thing about fear. I am very acquainted with fear and my own personal tendencies to return to it again and again. It’s my vice, if you will. I’ll probably talk about it quite a bit on this blog, but that is because I think it is important. Confronting fear is the best thing I have ever done in my life. Choosing Jesus over fear is the best decision I have ever and will ever make. And believe me, it is a decision I continue to make each and every day. Each time is the new best decision I’ve ever made.

When I was a child I struggled with my imagination each night, staring at shadows and seeing monsters, scaring myself enough that I must not have been sleeping. One particularly rough night my dad pointed me to 2 Timothy 1:7-“for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.” It’s so clear! We were not made to be afraid, fear is not from God. The verse quickly became my mantra and life verse, leading to a tattoo on my lower right calf. I remind myself of it constantly.

Faith over fear. Faith is stronger. Faith is perseverant. Faith is reliable and true. Faith is based in my God. My God who is the mighty, all-powerful, all-knowing Creator of the universe. And He loves me. He formed me to be of love and power and self-control, not of fear. Faith over fear.

Word Vomit

I’ve always had a fascination with words. I was the child on the playground who sat on the swings during recess, perfectly content with a book in my hands. I was the middle schooler who got very very excited for that language arts project where you wrote and illustrated an entire book yourself. I am drawn to libraries and office bookshelves, finding myself distracted by book titles. Maybe that’s why I tilt my head so often. Anyways, I love words. I love reading them, writing them, saying them, singing them. Love them.

I suppose you could consider me a writer, especially now that I have a blog (woo!). I am an external processor, so my brain simply functions better when all these words are outside my head, rather than circling inside. It usually ends up being much more beneficial for me than anyone else involved. I do this thing that I call “word vomiting”. Now, word vomiting is when I am asked a simple question or presented with an idea and I just talk. In these situations I usually offer much more thought or words than expected (or necessary, for that matter). I do it a lot when I’m nervous (cue awkward memories of confessing romantic feelings to boys) or when I’m tired (cue fun memories of late night conversations). I even do it when my brain isn’t altered by hormones or exhaustion.

Now that we have that explained, know that a lot of this blog will be word vomit. I will post ramblings and rants that will have nearly no basis other than the fact that someone said “the past is the past” in a certain tone of voice that day. Yet, here you are reading it. Sometimes the word vomit makes sense, so hopefully that is what will end up on here. I’ve heard that the word vomit can be beautiful sometimes, practically poetry. I’ll confess, I’ve found song lyrics in my paragraph text messages or random rants written in the notes app in my phone. I’ve based stories and songs off of word vomit before. Maybe I’ll put some of that up here on the inter web. I hope that if you are reading my blog posts that you get something from my words. If it’s the fact that I’m insane, then at least you learned something. But I think I secretly hope you’ll learn that you’re not alone, you are loved, and there is beauty in the world. Even if that beauty is found in someone’s word vomit.

Fearless Pursuit: an idea, a blog.

So, just like every other student who has gone to study off campus, I started a blog. In case you didn’t know, I am studying at a small music school in Nashville, TN for this spring semester! Rad, right? Anyways, here I am, starting the typical off campus study blog. However, rather than using it to record all the incredible things I do I want to use it as a creative outlet. I might mention some of my escapades and adventures here in Nashville, but for the most part I want to be able to write about whatever is on my heart and mind. Quite honestly, posts could be about anything from writing music to God experiences to a joke I thought of. Mostly, I want to talk about being fearless.

As a teenager I quickly became aware of my own fearsome tendencies. I latched onto the Bible verse 2 Timothy 1:7 as a child and I still cling to it today. “For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.” There are days that I have to whisper this verse under my breath constantly. There are days when I only think of it once or twice. But I still think of it every day. Every day. This is so important to me that I have it tattooed on my body. We are not meant to live in fear.

So, what did I do with this knowledge, this inherent nagging that fear is not a part of me? I have begun, day by day, to tell fear that it has no place in my life. Some days are harder than others, but some days are full of victory. One victory is this semester. I was terrified to even apply and audition for the CMC program. What if I didn’t get in? What if I did? Was I good enough? Could I even do this?

My dad has this question, a saying, if you will. What would you do if you were not afraid? What would you do if you were not afraid? I ask myself that question multiple times a day, chanting it like a mantra. Sometimes it makes decisions easier, sometimes it makes them harder. So, when I was looking into the CMC I decided to choose my dreams over my fear. I made a fearless choice. And I got accepted, drove down to Nashville, and here I am. I am in Nashville, living in music full time for the semester. I am in fearless pursuit of what sets my soul on fire.