Today or Tomorrow

          Today, I came to the end of another season of my life. High school - or as close as I ever got to high school. I wrote my last exam at the community college, spent my last half hour out in the sun in the middle of campus, and took my last regular bus ride - here, anyway. There will be plenty of exams in university, plenty of hours spent sitting in the sun, plenty of time spent on the public bus. Unless the system changes drastically in the next three months, which I don't expect it will.
          My strange high school/running start/grade status combined with my distance from the school has meant that I hold almost no loyalty to the school that I've now attended for 6 quarters. I'm normally pretty ready to be loyal, so it was strange not caring about sports or campus life at all. I certainly did not expect to miss it at all (okay, I still don't). But I walked out of building 7 today and headed for the grass and was hit with a feeling of nostalgia. As much as it has been merely a stepping stone to my next stage of life, I have lived here. I have many good memories and met people who have influenced my life significantly. It's because of Char and CeCe that I have developed a love for biology and am choosing to minor in it so as to provide some interest amidst my chemistry major. I met Blake in my first quarter and have attended school and walked through life with him since then; he is a part of many of my sunlit memories spent out on the grass. I made new friends: Sofia, Kellan, Chloe, Alyssa, Dung, and many others. I fought with microbiology, laughed over calculus, and debated which 8 out of 40 people should survive the alien invasion (thanks to MFC-J, an inspiring English teacher). I have learned and grown and laughed and fought and loved and lived in the last two years. I won't miss the bus smell, the noise of the commons, or inadequate "microbiology" lab, but I will miss the sunrises over the mountain, the study room in building 15, the web cafe, the random pieces of art, and our building 13.
          I know that countless memories are yet to be made. I have a host of new experiences waiting for me: big city, dorm life, AFROTC, lots of chemistry classes, some biology and art classes, new friends, new opportunities. Right now, I'm working through financial paperwork, placement tests, possible class schedules. I should hear back about my dorm and roommate assignment in a couple of months. The realization that I'll be moving out soon is always at the back of my mind. I'm ready for it. I know where God's leading me - for now.
          It's really easy to give an answer when people ask what I'm doing next year. "I'm going here to study chemistry and then into the Air Force." Those are my plans and I tell them so. But it's been on my mind that the Bible pretty specifically say NOT to do that.

"13 Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, and spend a year there and engage in business and make a profit.” 14 Yet you do not know [b]what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away. 15 Instead, you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that.” " James 4:13-15, NASB

 I have plans and I have been seeking the Lord's guidance the whole way, and He has directed my steps. All the same, I am still a vapor, or a mist as the ESV says (it's mentally challenging to put a verse in a version other than I've memorized). I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I have plans, but God may yet direct my steps another direction. Wherever He leads me, I am excited to follow. And If the Lord wills, I will go here to study chemistry and then into the Air Force, and I will live and make memories along the way.

Anne & Joe

          These last few weeks, I have been interviewing residents at the retirement home where I work, seeking to know their stories. It has been a privilege to hear each story, and a few residents have given me written permission to share their stories with all of you. This is an exercise in writing for me - if you have any questions, comments, or critiques, please let me know!

            1930. Life was difficult in Brooklyn, New York in the depth of the depression, but his mother made ends meet. She worked hard to support her young son after his father left her for other women. They never experienced the hardest parts of the depression, certainly not to the extent that the folks in Oklahoma and other places did, but they knew hardship all the same.

            As Joe got older, opportunities opened up for him. He attended a military school in West Virginia for a few years in the late 30s-early 40s. Joe’s mother remarried, and she, Warren, and Joe moved to Montreal before Joe graduated high school. While they were living there, WWII broke out. Joe returned to the states, to Burlington, Vermont, to complete school before enlisting in the Army. He went through basic training in Florida in 1944 and then was shipped overseas where he served in Europe for 6 months, in the 10^th Armored Division right after the Battle of the Bulge. “Boy, was I lucky to miss that,” he says, looking back.

            Soon after he finished his service in the military, Joe’s mother died. He returned for her funeral and then sought an education. Although he had been considering becoming a doctor or dentist, he instead began college in Vermont, studying agriculture and economics, and ended up in the insurance business, a job that took him around the country. He met a girl and got married, had two boys and one girl. 25 years later, he and his wife divorced, and he subsequently began night school at Fort Steilacoom Community College. It was at night school that he met Anne.

            1936. She was grateful for the bed and food the nuns offered her. Goodness knows she was better off here in the convent than she had been at her aunt’s house where she was just another mouth to feed.  She remembers with a grimace the clothing lines and the fact that they could never afford new shoes, although the soles were loose on her old ones, and all that just a year ago. At the age of 12, one year prior, she had run away to her 6^th grade teacher at the Chicago, Illinois convent, where she would be taken care of for the remainder of the depression era. Although her cousins, who also attended school at the convent, told her that her aunt wanted her to return, her aunt held no legal authority over her, so she remained at the convent.

            Anne’s parents had immigrated to the US from Croatia in the early-mid 1900s, just before the depression struck. When Anne was 6, her mother passed away. Although she was young, Anne holds on to memories of her loving mother, especially her beautiful blue dress with the gold fleur-de-lis design, which she wore to church ever morning. Her father, unable to care for her, gave Anne to his sister in Chicago, Illinois. Anne attended school at the local convent, where she lived in her later schooling years. When she started high school, she decided she wanted to become a nun and was sent to the motherhouse in Colorado for two years. During her sophomore year, she changed her mind and came back to Chicago. In high school, she met her future husband. She wasn’t everything he hoped she would be, so she changed for him and compromised herself, something she regrets to this day.  He didn’t believe in the education of women, so she finished high school and stopped attending school. She had dreamed of a man of high ideals, with a love of his faith, and a positive outlook, but settled for what she had instead. Anne helped put him through med school and moved to Tacoma for his internship. During their marriage, he had affairs, and, after 8 children, they were divorced.

            After the divorce, she went back to school at Fort Steilacoom Community College to pursue her dream of becoming educated and here she met Joe.

      It was in a Human Potential Class that Anne and Joe met. This was a class that impacted both of them deeply, focusing on Personal Responsibility and Emotional Development, a phrase they both still remember 40 years later. Outside of Human Potential, however, it was their shared loved for the Lord that brought and kept them together. The Lord has never abandoned them, and, in Anne’s words, the last 39 years have been a fairytale. They traveled together, to Europe twice and to other places. Anne went to Europe twice more on her own, to discover her family’s roots in Croatia. She was searching for herself and she found it in the town where she was immediately recognized as her mother’s daughter. Walking along a street in Kaštela, a woman called out “You’re Maria’s daughter!” and Anne knew she had found something special. Her self-esteem had been knocked down to zero after her divorce, and between Human Potential, Joe, Kaštela, and the Lord’s grace, she began to be built back up. Joe and Anne continued their education, Anne continuing on to Evergreen Community College. Anne focused on the three children she still had at home, co-owned a bookstore, and then got into real estate. Joe can be described as a poet, painter, and romantic.

      Now, they sit across from me, both in their rocking chairs, both smiling brightly. For the last several months, they have never failed to inform me that they are praying for me. They ask after my schooling and my plans for the future, and I am honored that they have taken such an interest in me.

      Joe’s words to me: “You’re doing okay. You have your life figured out and the smarts to pursue it. Not many have that.”

      Anne’s words to me: “Don’t ever compromise yourself; remain true to you. Retain your individuality.”

(Temporarily) Satiated Wanderlust

     Just over a month ago, I was itching to go, to travel, to explore. I've had that desire fulfilled now and I'm at least temporarily satisfied to remain at home. In the last month, I've spent time in Canada, South Africa, and Zambia, as well as the US (of course) and stopovers in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, and Rome, Italy. I don't know if stopovers count, especially when they occur from 3am-4am, as the Rome stopover did, but I was still in those countries for a short time.
     I drove into Canada (7 hours of travel), camped in very wet conditions, explored Vancouver, drove home (3 hours of travel), drove to La Conner (2 hours of travel), experienced the Tulip Festival with my wonderful mother, drove home (2 hours of travel), flew to South Africa (28 hours of travel), spent a fantastic week with friends, flew to Zambia (6 hours of travel), spent a weekend with my other family, the Taylors (http://robandjennifer.wordpress.com/ go follow them!), and flew home (36 hours of travel). That last part of was especially taxing. I had an amazing time... but, yea, I'm liking my bed, my mom's food, and a more relaxed schedule. I didn't ever think I'd call calculus relaxed.
     Until I moved to South Africa, I was never a wanderer. Short trips, sure, that's fine. But I intended to grow up and live right where I'd always lived, maybe even in the same house. Now...the whole world is open to me. I've spent time in different lifestyles, and the term culture shock isn't foreign. It would be hard to live elsewhere, but I could do it. I might even want to... More than anything, though, I want to live where God puts me. The opportunities He's given me at such a young age have broadened my horizons and made me consider differed places. What is He preparing me for, I wonder? I can't wait to find out.
     While these last few weeks haven't resulted in culture shock since they were short term, they have been full of experiences. International travel on my own, especially, was new. I had to navigate airports, luggage, visas, customs, and vaccinations (or lack thereof), all on my own. There were times when I was nervous, but now I've done it, I can do it again. I hope to, in the future.
     Each trip has been different and each has been good.

It was good to make new friends while camping in thunderstorms, good to explore the gorgeous forest around Golden Ears provincial park, good to laugh at crazy circumstances.

It was good to spend time with my mom, good to have my camera out and take as many pictures of tulips as I wanted, good to have a schedule that allowed me to wander La Conner, read by lamplight on the porch with the stars above me, and sing hymns in the morning.

It was good to be surprised by special girls with a special birthday dinner, good to have a busy schedule of seeing everyone, mini golfing, watching movies, playing board games, eating good food, good to work on relationships that I want to keep for years to come.

It was good to be part of the Taylor family, good to spend a little time in a second world country, good to talk to Mr Taylor, Mrs Taylor, and Matt.

It was good. And now it's good to be home with those I love.

The Average American

According to the New Strategist, the Average American...

• makes $735/week
• has a landline telephone
• says he/she is in very good or excellent health
• is overweight
• believes the effects of global warming have already begun or soon will 
• is currently married
• lives in one of the top 50 metropolitan areas
• lives in a house built before 1975
• watches 2 hours and 49 minutes of television a day
• drinks alcohol regularly
• pays his/her credit card bill in full each month
• has been to college, but does not have a college degree
• believes in God without a doubt 
• favors the death penalty
• believes in evolution
• wants the government to spend more on education, health care, and the environment
• does not know which political party controls the House of Representatives

• The Average American Household contains 2.6 people, owns 2.28 vehicles, 1.6 dogs, 2.1 cats, and 2.3 birds, and is $75,600 in debt (including the mortgage).
• The Average American Man, between the ages of 30-39, has black hair and a BMI of 29 at 5'9".
• The Average American Woman, between the ages of 30 and 39, has brown hair and a BMI of 26.4 at 5'4".

     Right. Enough statistics.  You don't even have to read all of those to see where I might be going with this post. I fit... let me count... 3.5 of those. That's 17.5% if you want another statistic. No, I didn't just choose statistics that don't match me. I guess I'm not an Average American. In fact, I don't think I know a single Average American. That's interesting, given those facts are based on us.  Where are all the Average Americans described above? I daresay nowhere.

     Each person is an individual.  Each person has passions and hobbies, history and personality.  That is something that no statistic can capture.  Yes, 52% of the population might enjoy scrapbooking (I'm making that up), and that means the enjoyment of scrapbooking is a trait of the Average American, but even that number means very little. One person's scrapbook looks completely different from another person's because each scrapbook reflects the individual who spent time creating it. 

     The Average American is a bunch of numbers that eliminate our uniqueness. Whatever it is that makes me, me, can't be captured in the Average American because it's me, and I'm not Average.  I'm more than Average.  Yet... we still seem to be chasing after this American Dream of keeping up with the Average American (commonly named Jones).  We want to fit in, to be like everyone else. Everyone else, in my opinion, is boring, impossible, and even contradictory. 

     God created each and every one of us. We simply have to look around at creation to see that He has an abundance of creativity, and He applied that creativity to us as well. Psalm 139:13-14 is an oft-quoted passage, but it comes from one of my favorite Psalms and is beautiful each and every time it is used: 

For You formed my inward parts; 

You knitted me together in my mother's womb.

I praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Wonderful are Your works;

my soul knows it very well. 

     You are not average. You are uniquely, wonderfully you, and you are loved by the One who created you as an individual. 

     Now, I do want to note that I wrote this Average American post from an American point of view mostly because it was easiest to find American statistics. The same message applies, though, to South Africans to Germans to Venezuelans to Malaysians and to any person anywhere.

References:

https://www.avma.org/KB/Resources/Statistics/Pages/Market-research-statistics-US-pet-ownership.aspx

http://press.experian.com/United-States/Press-Release/new-study-shows-multiple-cars-are-king-in-american-households.aspx

http://www.census.gov/prod/2013pubs/p20-570.pdf

http://www.newstrategist.com/store/index.cfm/feature/57_15/50-facts-about-the-average-american.cfm

No, I'm not going to write them up in MLA format. 

It Doesn't Take Too Much to Get Me Talking Photography

      It's been 5 weeks since I've written anything.  It's not as though I'm lacking ideas, I just haven't gotten around to actually writing them out beyond a couple descriptive sentences (I've made a habit of doing that because too often I don't have any ideas). Why haven't I written?  I don't know. But I keep up with this blog because I enjoy it, not because I feel obligated to. When I feel obligated without enjoyment, then it's time to move on.  As of starting this post, I'm not even 100% sure what topic I'm writing on today.  Maybe I'll just bounce around; that would pretty accurately reflect the status of my mind at the moment.  But... I think I would confuse everyone, so I won't do that.
     I think I'll talk about photography.  It's a topic that (you should have noticed) I love and will very readily talk about.  I'm still learning, and sometimes other photographers introduce topics that are completely, genuinely, honestly, truly NEW to me.  Best learning experiences ever... or at least, they have the steepest learning curve. 

Heidi, sunrisephotogh.com

      I've been truly blessed this summer by Heidi Stephens at Sunrise Photography (sunrisephotogh.com) allowing me to follow her and teaching me some of her trade.  Connections with other photographers are really important, even if those connections only started because I used to babysit her boys!  Because of some of her mentoring, I've really found a desire to improve my photography further; one of my goals is to do one portrait photo shoot each week (I have enough siblings to do so) because portraits are one of my weak points and one of the most commonly requested shoots. I may, even, in the future, throw out an offer of portraits if someone will come be my model for a little while... when my siblings start rolling their eyes at my picture taking requests. 

Watching Grandpa

     That being said, someday I want to work without posing. One of my strengths is detail work, capturing the details of a place or event, and I prefer event shoots to portrait shoots; it's always good to challenge oneself, but it's also good to work within one's strengths. So, eventually, I want to capture life as it is (see my blog post: Now and Then) - especially the hardships that society, with its short attention span, often forgets.  One of the photographers who most inspires me is John Warren, the World Vision photographer (http://blog.worldvision.org/author/jon-warren).  His photos are not only beautiful, they're meaningful!   

Another's Life

     Overall, to improve, I'm working on portraiture, on different composition and editing techniques, and on keeping my eyes open for those real life, hard, easier-to-ignore situations that must not be ignored.  Anyway, I can see photography being a huge part of my life, no matter where God leads me (I still don't know where that is, but so many people ask me that I'll probably devote a single blog post to it).  I ended up bouncing around a bit anyway (seriously, between college now, college future, job now, job future, church, photography, home life, free will vs the sovereignty of God, Anne of Green Gables, and all the other parts of my life, I'm surprised I was able to be cohesive at all), but not nearly as much as I could have been; I stayed on one topic!  And I didn't address every aspect of that topic that has occupied my mind the last couple of weeks.
     I should stick some pictures in here and publish this and be done.  It's not going to get any more cohesive through more editing.  Oh!  I've definitely appreciated all of the praise for the photos that I've posted on Facebook.  This is a collective thank you, too - I intend to go somewhere with my photography.  Okay.  Enough said.  Stop typing.