unconventional

I am currently in the middle of what is proving to be one of the hardest times of my life.  When I realized God was calling me to law school, I ran away from Him…because I knew it would be too hard.  At the time I felt that I would never be able to get in, to get through, to even merely survive.  And in many ways, this journey is proving to be as hard as I thought.

I am studying about 80 hours a week.  I get to school around 8am everyday and for the first few weeks, I left around 7pm.  I would go home and see my family for a few hours for supper and bed time, and then crack open the books again until midnight or later.

I’ve begun describing my life as a Jenga tower.  I am able to keep standing as long as another block isn’t moved.  But you move a block…and I fall down.  Both literally and figuratively.  I haven’t ever been more exhausted in all my life, I am missing out on the things of life that I love the very most, and I’ve started having panic attacks. 

(As far as the panic attacks, I’m supposed to see a doctor soon to see what I can do to manage those.  I have mostly improved in the past week.  But for those of you who have suffered with these, I didn’t realize how terrible they are.  Please don’t feel alone or feel like a freak.  I’m not ashamed that I have suffered in this way…and I’m so grateful to have the means to cope with them.  I pray that you do, too.)

But through this, I have to admit that I am growing and learning far more than just horribly complicated words, centuries old philosophies or complex legal issues.  I’m learning that what God begins, He will see through.  What He calls forth, He will call into being.

My husband has dedicated his life to me during this journey, teaching me that where there is love, sacrifice almost doesn’t seem sacrificial.  My best friend, Sammie Jo, (in between visits to cook and clean and her everyday texts) has literally been on her knees in prayer for me…and even told me to pray at the exact same time so that God would hear us more clearly.  My parents have postponed their retirement for a few years…and traveled constantly to be here to support us. My brother and my sister-in-law have spent hours on the phone and texting, praying me off my ledge (even during their vacation!).  My children have behaved beautifully and even been so sweet through neglect. Besides lightening my load, Samantha always puts the happy in my days. I have even been blessed with two new dear law school friends…girls in the fire with me, holding me up when I’d rather just fall.

Through all of this, satan has hurled his darts…and has made me even more convicted that I am right where I am supposed to be.  I am doing exactly as God is calling me.  And I’m putting one foot in front of the other, one case brief, one memo at a time. And on my best days, I am even a little excited to see what God will do with this law school education He’s getting.

Quote from my almost 2 yr. old:
“Ooooh! Somebody parted!!!!”

(which in Keenan language is “farted”)!!!

In conjunction with the 10th anniversary of Sept. 11th, Frontline is airing a special that asks where God was on the day that a total of over 3,400 people died in America at the hands of terrorists. 

Did you know that on a typical work day, there were 50,000 workers combined in both towers of the World Trade Center?  Did you know that every hour, approximately 10,000 visitors came to the twin towers?  Did you know that it is estimated that at least 3,000 emergency personnel were on site at the time the buildings collapsed? Did you know that there were 304 people who died when the airplanes crashed?

Where was God?  He was busy.  He was the hope in the over 60,000 who did escape.  He was the courage of the men and women who went into burning buildings.  He was the resolve of those who refused to let their airplane kill more people.  He was the unexplainable strength in the ones who lost their loved ones.  He was the compassion in those of us who watched helplessly.  He was the camaraderie of a country.

On a day when evil made such an impact, I saw more good.  There was more love and service and sacrifice on that day, than I believe was ever seen in our country. The loss of even a few would be devastating, but the loss of so very many should have been crippling.  Bin Laden had to have expected far more Americans to lose their lives…he had to have been disappointed at his failure. 

Years ago, Billy Graham’s daughter was interviewed on national TV after a natural disaster of some sort.  She said that of course God has disappeared because we haven’t invited Him into our schools, our businesses, our lives.  But I respectfully disagree with her.  God hasn’t disappeared.  God is the only good that comes from any of those tragedies.  He is the only reason we continually escape with fewer lives lost than estimated, He is the only reason there isn’t far, far more devastation in our world. 

I submit to you that without God, there would have been 63,300 + lives lost.  I know where He was.  The only question I care to ask is: when tragedy strikes, where will God find me?

Jennifer Gerhardt, a dear friend of mine, is currently working on a project she calls Radical Modesty.  It is really phenomenal…and I highly encourage you to watch this video if you get a chance!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WPODYc2PrWk&feature=channel_video_title

Also, I just recently finished two years of being a dorm mom at Faulkner University and I have spent quite a bit of time the past few weeks thinking about and talking about modesty with my girls from Faulkner.

First of all, let me say that I get it.  I understand the debate from both perspectives.  We absolutely have to have rules and standards and, being a Christian University, Faulkner absolutely cannot be silent on the issue of dress…especially with some of the dress that is available now.

But I also understand why my girls get so upset about it…and, honestly, I share their angst.  I am not immodest person…or at least you won’t be seeing my butt cheeks any time soon.  And I believe that you can be modest, beautiful and Godly if you wear shorts that are more than 3 inches above your knee.  One of the advantages to not working at Faulkner anymore is that I can wear whatever I want and not worry about if it falls within regulation.

I think what it boils down to for me is the way in which others handle modesty.  I think Jesus would never use disdain, disrespect or cruelty when addressing modesty.  I don’t think He would be condemning or over zealous.  I think He would lovingly explain why there are guidelines and gently request a clothing change. I don’t think He would call someone out in front of a group of people or even one other person (instead of embarrassing a precious girl).  But that’s just my opinion. I agree with Jennifer Gerhardt when she says that modesty is an outward display of an internal spirit and I don’t think it can be forced upon anyone.

Also, the following article (which I found on Jennifer Gerhardt’s blog) perfectly states something I’ve long been unable to put a finger on…something that has bothered me about modesty, but I couldn’t figure out.  Strict, iron-fisted discipline on this subject does objectify women.  It calls us out for the beauty that God created and it places your standards on my beliefs…in an unfair way.

http://www.relevantmagazine.com/life/current-events/op-ed-blog/26523-is-modest-really-hottest

I do think that Christian campuses need guidelines in order to set ourselves apart.  I’m good at very little, but one of my strengths is that I connect with college age girls…and the way that many handle modesty is pushing them away.  I just think we need to renew our tactics.

When I was younger, I viewed God as this stern authority figure…sitting on His throne…waiting to scold me when I failed. I didn’t see His eternal presence in my life as comforting. As I study Him and my mind and eyes are open to His truth, I’ve learned that He isn’t there to police me. He does occasionally allow me to be disciplined…but He isn’t the one who administers my pain. He is there to guide me, strengthen me, encourage me.
This quote from my Bible study today is a beautiful truth in my life and I very much appreciate the analogy.
“His presence isn’t something you enter, walking in and out of like the rooms of your house. It is something that you open your eyes to, becoming aware of the truth that His presence constantly surrounds you.”

I’ve debated sharing this…but since it happened more than a month ago, here goes nothing.  Mainly because those who know me well will get the biggest kick out of it!

In about the 6th inning of our first World Series game, a man approached me, told me that he was a reporter for the Lewiston Tribune and asked if he could write a story about me.  I was confused, but in typical fashion I said yes…because I rarely ever say no to anybody.  He then proceded to explain that he wanted to feature the loudest fan in the park and he couldn’t miss my “Southern twang” from the other side of the stadium.  We ended up chatting for at least 30 minutes and he talked me into letting him take a picture (I really liked him!).  At this point, I didn’t think for a second that I was truly newsworthy, but made a mental note to warn my husband just in case.  Well that same day was also my 11th anniversary and Opening Day for the tournament and things were just busy…so I forgot.

On Saturday morning, around 6am (Idaho time), my beloved husband woke me up and he was laughing.  In my groggy state, it took me a second to realize that he had a newspaper in his hand.  When I did figure out what was going on…and then I saw the front page…I froze in horror.  After a full 30 seconds, I got loud enough to wake up Samantha & Keenan.  Not only did I make the paper, but I made the front page.  And the caption is big enough for me to NEVER live down!

I was apologizing to Patrick…so sorry that the biggest news maker for Faulkner baseball was his WIFE!  And Samantha was going crazy…so happy and entertained that we made the paper.  I begged Samantha to go to the lobby and steal all the free copies.  I was scared to death that the parents would see it…or worse, one of the players.  But Patrick said that he got the last two papers they had and he saw at least two of the parents with copies already! 

When we got to the ball park, I kept hoping that nobody there read the paper.  But it wasn’t meant to be.  Three people I’d never met cut out the story and brought it to the park because they knew they were watching us play that day.  One couple I’d met the day before brought their copy from home and stopped to buy me two more copies.  I gave my autograph to at least three people, one guy gave me his Jesus cap (a-whole-nother story!) and I was able to get a super elite, special grounds crew shirt! 

I’m still pretty embarrassed about it.  My daddy has shown his copy to everyone who asks about me.  Sammie Jo & Momma have laughed and laughed.  The baseball players seemed to think it was hilarous, too.  And the player’s parents actually seemed a bit proud!  So…my shame for the whole world to see: