30 September 2011

On Being Sincere


I've been thinking about language, lately. (English major, shocker!) One of the things that people really enjoy doing is correcting your use of language. When they ask how you're doing and you reply with "I'm doing good," they correct you with "Don't you mean you're 'doing well'?" A little grammar, that they feel like they are helping you with, right? (Just let me speak!) Or maybe you yell "I HATE STUPID DRIVERS!" while you are caught in traffic, and they ask "Do you really hate those people? Are you sure you aren't just frustrated with the situation?" (These people may also deserve an eye roll. Don't judge my driving habits!) They are questioning your sincerity, which may or may not be a valid question.

That's kind of the idea I've been stuck on recently. I say I love a lot of things. I'm talking a huge range, from "I love mint chocolate chip ice cream" to "I love your laugh." And I was thinking to myself, I need to be more aware of how I'm using that word, love. I can't just love everything, all the time! That's ridiculous.  But is it? Is it inaccurate for me to say that I love it when a friend uses my full name when they talk to me? Is it wrong to say I love the way the sun beams into my window right before it sets?

I don't think so. When I say I love something, I really, actually do. And a lot of times, when I tell someone I love something they do, or a conversation we're having, or a situation we're in, or something that is part of their personality, as cheesy at it might sound, I actually mean that I love them. I'm not talking romantically here, though. Love like the way you love your best friend, or your parents or siblings (when they aren't driving you crazy). Just truly, sincerely thinking that someone you know is a really awesome person who you want to be around as much as you can.

It seems to me that people are afraid of that in our generation. We don't want to say that we love anyone. Why? Are we afraid of rejection? That they might think we're weird, or awkward? I'm over that, people. I love my friends. They are weird, and nerdy, and hilarious, and honest, and caring, and crazy, and all around, the most phenomenal people I've ever known.

You know what I mean? :)

17 September 2011

Sick?!

In my vocabulary, sick is a word with several meanings.

Sick, as in "I am so sick," literally suffering from an illness.

Sick, as in "That food was so sick," meaning really gross.
(Add 'nasty' for emphasis if necessary)

Sick, as in "That Ke$ha concert was sick," meaning totally awesome.
(Add 'money' for emphasis)

Just wanted to share that little gem with the world.

05 September 2011

"The Ultimate Questions"

The first week of school in 5 words:
Exciting
Chaotic
Wonderful
Surprising
Challenging

What a list, right? It's been a great week, and I can already see some hints of how the rest of the semester and year will pan out. But I can also see the difficulties that I will face in my own growth and in relationships with others.

This is my last year here at school (!?!!) and I have been reminded all summer long of the urgency that being a senior represents. I only have so much time to do the things that God is calling me to, and even as that is encouraging, I can sense the fatal idea behind it. If I don't do what I need to do, what God needs me to do, in this year, what serious consequences will come of it?

Today, I was reminded of why I'm here, in both a physical and spiritual sense.

In the first chapter of my Psychology 101 book, which introduces what psychology is, and how and why it's studied, the author tells you not to be concerned with psychology answering 'the ultimate questions' of life, as asked by Tolstoy:
"Why should I live? Why should I do anything? Is there in life any purpose which the inevitable death that awaits me does not undo and destroy?"

And you know what? I'm alright with psychology not trying to answer that question because I already know.
God created me with a purpose. He loves me and I can see that everywhere in my life, and I know that it will never be undone or destroyed by death.

Sometimes, encouragement comes from the most unexpected places.