i see a train.

I've always wanted to start a music blog. My friend Maclean did so this week. He's entitled it "Audio Flag," and you can find it here.

Here are the reasons why I have yet to start a music blog:

a. I do not doubt my excellent taste is music, but I do doubt my ability to offer interesting .. insightful .. novel commentary.
b. I fear my inevitable inconsistency in posting.

Reasons why I SHOULD have a music blog:

a. People frequently ask me to make them a mix . . and a music blog is sorta a good substitute. Kinda? Just go with it.

b. It would be a good outlet for my constant desire to talk about music.

That being said, I don't have plans to start a music blog. I do, however, have plans to post about music on this [seasoned] blog whenever I so desire.

And today..I so desire.

Do you ever have moments when the perfect song comes on? It resonates within you in that moment. It could play at another time, in another setting.. and it might not resonate to the same extent. Or at all.

Of course you've had those moments. I'm sure of it, whether you're a self-proclaimed music lover or not.

I often have these moments of auditory magic early in the morning. Or late at night. When, as far as I can tell, I'm the only person on earth. Or on roadtrips, when everything is a million miles away.

But today, it's mid-morning. I'm at work. With pre-schoolers yelling across the hall, and a dirty tupperware container within my peripheral. But this song removed me from the chaos for 8 minutes and 40 seconds.

Enough preface..the song is:

"Se Lest," by Sigur Ros.

Sigur Ros's rockumentary, Heima, definitely attributes to the fact that this song stabs me in the heart. I picture the ethereal Icelandic landscapes and the Nordic families in their scarves and hats.

Regardless of whether or not you've seen Heima, know anything about Iceland, or have an affinity for Jonsi Birgisson's matchless falsetto, "Se Lest" will take you to another place. If you let it. (see: ifyoulookbeyondthesoundsoftop40music)

"Se Lest" is from the album "Takk..." released in 2005. The lyrics on the album were written in both Icelandic and in a made-up language called "Hopelandic." The title of this particular song translates into "I See a Train," but the song as a whole has no literal translation.

So it's up to you, listener, to take in the words (or non-words), the melodies, the xylophone, the strings... and interpet it on your own.

fill me with Your perfect love.
let me be unable to walk out the door each day until
i'm filled with my one source of joy, beauty and strength.
all of the room in my heart is for You. claim it, and be greedy with it.
i can't afford for You to be any less.

we hear encouragement to dig our heels deep into the soil of community, and it so deeply resonates with us. the most inner parts of our beings know that we were created for community. but then we step out into the sunshine, and we are hit with the reality that bundling up with others isn't as pretty as we had imagined. sometimes it is messy. often it is painful. but it is life-giving.

how easy it is to go about our days with only ourselves in mind. we are able to do as we please. we have no one to impress, and no one to let down. we can rest and relax, and do nothing, say nothing, be nothing. all of the world that we pass by can hold in their heads a pleasant and untainted view of us, because they know nothing better.

but then we step into community. at some point the facades can't help but fall away. people see what lies beneath when community cracks our shell. we feel uneasy. we see that others need us, and suddenly we cannot go about our self-centered schedules and agendas free of guilt. suddenly others' paths and schedules begin to creep into our own. it's scary. it's inconvenient. it's unsettling and nerve-racking and obnoxious, and sometime it is exhausting.

why were we created for something so difficult and uncomfortable? why can't life be simple, easy, comfortable and carefree? little chapel nestled among still rivers and green hills and birds chirping...piano melodies flowing freely and effortlessly from the pipes that echo between the panes of stained glass. not a care in the world. why can't it always be this way?

the irony of it all? because we made a decision to live greedy, self-centered lives. when we put the self first, everything fell apart. when we begin to come together, to bundle together, things begin to line up again. that discomfort? it's beautiful. wrestle with it, wallow in it. you'll have your moments of serenity. you can even have a life of inward serenity, if only you will come to terms with the fact that community will not always be what you want it to be. if only you will allow yourself to be vulnerable, and to not succumb to fear. fear of judgment and pain and rejection. you will experience these things. it will not be easy. but keep loving. love until it hurts, and then love more.

you're welcome.

I single-handedly am saving the globe by the infrequency with which I wash my clothes.

small things

Last week I received a gift from two people in particular that meant so much to me.

The first came in the form of a phone call.

It was Jessica Lee! Jessica is one of my favorite friends. We became friends my sophomore year of college. Jessica and I had been dorm room neighbors the previous year. All I knew about her was that she had great taste in music (we shared a fondness for a band called Stars), that she seemed very easy-going, and that she had once received a male visitor who came over just so the two of them could tinker with an easy bake oven.

I had Jessica’s number stored in my phone, and I very randomly called her months later to tell her that I had an itch to visit the state of Kentucky, and I wondered if she’d like to join along. I had never been to Kentucky. And I had never hung out with Jessica.

Jessica came along, and we ended up exploring a very random town. We met a few locals, sat on the edge of a dock at a marina, and enjoyed an afternoon that felt a million miles from anywhere else.

Throughout college, Jessica and I had many other adventures. We camped in a teepee. We had pizza with homeless friends underneath a bridge. We explored along the cobblestone streets by the river in Savannah, Georgia. We played with pups at the humane society, we had strobe light dance parties in Jessica’s room. Jess was there when I met my first college boyfriend, and she was there when I had my heart broken by another.

Jessica and I are now living hours apart. Neither of us are good at picking up the phone, so I haven’t talked to her much since I left Nashville. But I’m not one to measure my relationships by the frequency with which we communicate.

On Saturday of last week, Jessica left me a voicemail telling me she was so sad to hear about Franklin, and that she was also sad for me. She wanted to know what she could do to help out financially. Jessica is only one year older than me - fresh out of college, and she is not rolling in the big money. Yet she was willing to help out her friend 600+ miles away who was struggling to pay the vet bills for her sick pup.

In true Melissa fashion, I have yet to call her back to thank her personally for her message. It was truly one of the most thoughtful and genuine offers I have ever received. Jessica, please consider this my formal thank you.

Exactly a week later, I checked my mail. There was an envelope addressed to Franklin Ralph Carter, with paw prints stamped on the back. I knew the handwriting well -- my sister! Inside was the cutest little “get well” card, along with five $20 bills. Melanie said that when she heard me brainstorming what I could sell in order to pay for Franklin’s vet bills, she too asked what she could give up to help me out.

At this point, Franklin’s vet bills have been taken care of in full. He is still in the hospital, and it has been ten days since his second surgery. He has a very serious infection in his abdomen, but he continues to improve each day.

The last three weeks since Franklin got sick have been filled with plenty of low moments and low days. But the constant encouragement and thoughtfulness of people like Liza, Regan, Ellee, Drew, Haley, Mom, Yaya, Leigh, Whitney, Lindsay, Erica, Robynne . . and Melanie and Jessica . . has been so refreshing. I mention specific names simply because I want to recognize any of those people who may read this!

Mother Theresa knew what’s up when she said, “But we can all do small things, with great love, and together we can do something wonderful.”

a personal narrative of sorts

I’ve always loved dogs. I remember when I wrote Mom and Dad a persuasive essay...asking that we get a lhasa apso. A persuasive essay had worked when I wanted my first camera. But it didn’t work later, when I wanted a big trampoline. I can’t remember why I wanted a lhasa apso particularly - might be because our neighbors, the Wright family, had one. Her name was Carly. I also remember when the mom, Cathy, told me not to brush my hair when it was wet. She told me it would pull my hair out - or pull the bristles of my brush out. I could never remember which. I also remember when Ashton Wright let me use her sand art kit. She warned me not to shake the bottle when I had it filled, but I did anyway. I regretted it. Christmas of 1994, Melanie and I ran into the living room to see what all Santa had brought us. We looked right past the furball in the middle of the floor and began to explore the games and gadgets on the fireplace. When Mom and Dad (bewildered) pointed out our new puppy, I cried.

A couple years later he and Carly had puppies.

I loved Buddy Leroy Carter for fifteen years. I was crazy about that dog. I was as crazy about him in 2009 as I was in 1994. He died a few months ago - I think it was late November. Sometimes I forget that he’s gone. I expect to visit Lubbock and find him curled up at the foot of Dad’s recliner. I was in San Diego, working for Invisible Children, when I got the call. I knew the call was about Buddy before Mom and Dad even told me. When it comes to these things, you just know. I had seen Buddy when I was home just about a week before. We always celebrated his birthday on Thanksgiving because he was born Thanksgiving of 1994. We never figured out the actual day. I tried though. I knew he wasn’t in good shape, so on his birthday I spent a lot of time on two birthday signs and hung them in the kitchen.

Melanie was in Uganda when Buddy died. We waited until she was back in the states to tell her Buddy died. That was hard.

Sometimes Melanie and I would find Buddy and have a dance party around him to make him feel awkward. I almost laughed as I wrote that.

I missed Buddy a lot during college. I could talk to Mom and Dad while I was away, but not to Buddy. I would have them make Buddy bark over the phone, and I would squeal with delight.

I wanted a dog in Nashville, but Mom and Dad - along with others - warned me about the financial commitment and time commitment that dogs required. I listened to them, even though I didn’t want to. Come to think of it, I really restrained myself from getting a dog just because I knew Mom would be mad if I did. The threat of mom’s disapproval makes me not do lots of things. Often she does know best.

I moved to Austin in January. Just a couple weeks before in Lubbock, Dad and Grandmommy had come home with a precious puppy for me. I named him Henry. What a wonderful puppy! Huge personality, and ridiculous amounts of cute. There were two problems, though. First off, he was a miniature poodle. I really didn’t want a miniature poodle. I tried to want one, I really did. I flipped through Google images and saw some miniature poodles - full grown - that were presh. Maybe he’ll turn out like that!..But what if he doesn’t? Am I shallow? Am I selfish? I’m a horrible person. But maybe someone else would love him better? But I’ll feel so bad for rejecting him, and for rejecting Dad and Grandmommy’s gift.

I cried. I felt so bad for even considering turning Henry away. Oh and the second problem? Within the first 24 hours I became acutely aware of the time commitment dogs (especially puppies) required. I couldn’t really walk into another room without worrying about the little guy. So I gradually made my feelings known. I really did feel so bad. And I wanted to let myself go emotionally. So I could love him as my own. I didn’t enjoy holding back. Dad was great about it. He said he didn’t want me to feel pressure to keep him. He hinted that he and Mom would probably keep him if I didn’t. That was comforting.

So I chose to let him go. Melanie came home for Christmas. She fell in love with Henry. She considered taking him to Nashville. She really wrestled with that decision. But she didn’t take him. She decided she wouldn’t be able to give him enough attention. The Creels fell in love with him too. Especially Haley. I loved watching Haley love Henry. We all casually talked about how Aunt Yaya should adopt the semi-orphan pup. Haley would be moving from Lubbock to D.C. in a matter of weeks, and Ross had recently joined the army. Times were rough for the Creel household. The nest was about to be more audibly empty than ever before. So I moved to Austin, and as Mom and Dad began to feel attached to baby Henry, Bobby and Yaya announced that they were going to take him in. Mom cried.

Yaya quickly became an adorably proud and loving mother. She took Henry to puppy school. There’s hardly anything cuter than puppy school. The very thought of it pains me. Henry is especially special because he has a bond with both the Carters and the Creels. I request pictures of him often. He is growing into the cutest dog ever. I think things worked out just as they should have. I’m glad Yaya has him.

So I got to Austin...and a few weeks in - in late January - puppy fever returned. I blame it all on Town Lake. I went there for a walk, and I saw so many wonderful dogs. Repeatedly I said, “That person can have a dog - why can’t I?” My 23rd birthday was near. I’ve always been an impulsive person. I looked at dogs online for a few days. Decided I wanted a small shih tzu or a goldendoodle. I would have loved to have gotten a lhasa apso like Buddy, but I learned they can be a bit temperamental the day Buddy bit my face and I got ten stitches.

I already knew I had parental blessing for a dog since I had been given a pup, so I was ready to spring for it. Multiple people warned me not to give in to my puppy fever. I knew I was getting myself into something big. I was okay with the warnings, but I was peeved when the words were not warnings, but instead instructions or commands. Geez people, let me grow up, let me make my own mistakes, and let me be me. But that’s another story.

There were also friends that encouraged me, like Ellee Burkholder, and like my cousin Layne. The day before my birthday was Tuesday. Doug texted me. He wasn’t feeling well, and wouldn’t be going into the office. He encouraged me to take the day off, and rest up after the big retreat from the weekend before. By rest up, I thought he meant search online for dogs some more, find the one you want, drive and get it, and wake up tomorrow as a dog owner.

So there are no actual pet stores in Austin. It seems they’re illegal or something - encouraging people to adopt. How very “Austin” of Austin. People aren’t even allowed to sell dogs or puppies. They can only ask for an “adoption fee.” That being said, I had a hard time finding any cute pups around the city. I realize I’m a heathen for not taking in a lovable mutt, but I really want(ed) a cute dog. That’s all I can say. I found a shih tzu in the Dallas area, about three and a half hours away. I had made many inquiries, and had decided to drive up and get this little boy. I had e-mailed the owners of a few goldendoodles. They were all far, far out of my price range, and I told the sellers that if they felt like they could at any point offer a pup for much (much. much. ...much.) less, then...here’s my number. I didn’t exactly hold out much hope. I headed up toward Dallas. Only a few minutes after I had embarked, I get a call from Veytia Hays. Really nice lady. She’d like to offer me a goldendoodle for only four hundred dollars. It’s a stretch, but I can do it. I want to do it. I call the seller in DFW and turn down yet another dog - the little shih tzu who was getting all geared up to go to his forever home. Gosh, I’m cold-hearted. I turn my car around and head for College Station. I stop on my way to buy toys, a collar, dog food...so exciting, and so foreign to me. I brainstorm names. I look at business names and street signs for inspiration.

I meet Veytia in a McDonald’s parking lot. I knew my boy’s name before I even laid eyes on him - Franklin. Franklin Ralph. Four percent of me wanted to name him Henry, because I love that name. But that wouldn’t be right. When I see Franklin, I know the name is right. I can’t believe how big he is at only four months! What have I gotten myself into? I love him. Am I sure about this? ..He is precious. So I hop in the car after grabbing a chicken snack wrap, and Franklin and I are off.

Not far down the road, a policewoman stops us because my headlight is out. I get off with a warning, but I sure hadn’t made a good first impression on Franklin. Not ten minutes later, we’re pulled over again. As the policeman stands outside my window, I fumble around long enough for it to get awkward, and finally locate my recent warning. We were off off the hook again. We pull over so that Franklin can have a potty break, and he is terrible on a leash. Ugh, he hated me. Or he hated the leash..one of the two. We looked like a scene from a movie as I worked hard to make him cooperate. It was cold, and he was stubborn. He didn’t go potty, but I was just relieved when he was back in the car and we were back on the road.

Franklin and I fell in love quickly. Others fell for him too - especially Leigh Congdon. It made me happy. I took him lots of places. To the park. To work. To Spiderhouse. He would always stick near me - such a mama’s boy. Such a sweet and faithful little companion. I took pictures of Franklin playing, sitting, scratching, and breathing, and shared them any person willing to tolerate my infatuation. Yes, he (like Henry) proved quickly to be quite a responsibility, but it was worth it. I loved loving him. I loved caring for him. I loved playing ball with him, and I loved the splat he made every time he plunked down on the floor.

It was just four days ago: I came home, fed him dinner, and he cut his bowl time shorter than usual. He went into the living room and threw up three times. Man, it was like fluorescent. I hated it - for him, for me, for my carpet...but I knew this kind of stuff happened sometimes. Dogs get sick. They have tummy aches.

But then he threw up two more times. I called the first 24-hour animal hospital that Google offered. In a moment of vulnerability, I called this guy to see if he would come with. I needed a male figure with me. This guy and I had gone out before. But I mean...twice. I knew asking him to accompany me to the vet might sound like code for We’re in a relationship, right? Or at the very least, Can we be in a relationship? Well, I meant neither of the two. I was just banking on him interpreting the invite as neither. I toyed with the idea of telling him what my invitation wasn’t, but I decided not to jump the gun with false assumptions. He turned down my invitation. I don’t blame him. But I did really want a guy with me. Coulda been him, coulda been a brother, coulda been my dad. I was just upset and worried. I had the textual support of a number of friends and family, and that helped. I sent Melanie a text and/or picture every two and a half seconds, so it was kinda like she was with me.

The vet wanted to do nearly five hundred dollars worth of tests. I couldn’t do that. They treated his symptoms, gave him fluids, and sent us home.

I went by the boy’s house. It was only a few blocks away, and I received a much needed hug. I’m not really one to need a hug. But there it was. The need, I mean.

Franklin and I had a sad night. He groaned, whined, and heaved all throughout his (our) restless night. I was sad for him. The next morning we went outside. He bounded around a little bit, much to my delight. We got back inside and he threw up three times. Ugh. I took him to Hill Country Animal Hospital, right by church. Liza Martin had suggested it. A very pretty place - nice people, and it smelled really good. I love a place that smells good.

They checked out my little guy, and decided he should stay there for 24 hours to be monitored, to receive fluids, etc. There was another $250 on top of the $130 I’d spent the night before. The next day, I received word that he was better! He had been playing with the other dogs and had obviously improved. No vomiting. The news made me dance around. He came home, I was ecstatic, and we picked up chicken and rice to cook for his dinner. Only he didn’t want it. And he didn’t want his meds. And he didn’t want to move. Or follow me from room to room. He whined during the night, and never got comfortable.

Weren’t we supposed to be happy back at home together? This isn’t what I had imagined.

That brings us to this morning. Today is March 5, 2010. Franklin could hardly move this morning. I tried to take him outside. Not only did he not get excited, but he wouldn’t even get up when I opened the door. My stomach dropped. I didn’t even take time to get ready. I grabbed my keys, and I had to carry Franklin - all 38 pounds of him - down three flights of stairs and out to the car. I cried on the way.

That was a quiet car ride.

The vet planned on teaching me tricks to get food and meds down his throat so he would regain energy. Call it intuition, perhaps..I just knew something was very wrong. It wasn’t just gastritis. I decided to pay another $180 for x-rays. If nothing else, I needed peace of mind. While Franklin was off getting his “glamour shots” as one nurse called them, I started brainstorming all the possessions I could sell to help pay for these costs. I began to sympathize with mothers living in poverty who resort to desperate means to care for their children. The doctor returned. Franklin did have an obstruction of some kind in his intestines. If surgery was not performed, he probably wouldn’t make it.

I tried to be strong, composed. I tried to keep it together. The doctor decided to give me a few minutes to process everything. I called Dad while he was in class, and couldn’t even get the first few words out. Dad was so sad for me. He offered to help me a bit, and I decided to do the surgery. I suppose all along there was really no question. Of course I would do the surgery. I would find a way to pay for it.

When the doctor returned, my eyes were no longer a visible part of my face.

I was gone within half an hour. I had said bye to my boy, smoothed a couple of stray hairs, and kissed the top of his head. I went home to clean up, and I put on my favorite dress and headed to Tacodeli for the sixth day in a row. At the register, I realized I’d left my money at home. Embarrassed, I got a free taco. And I didn’t have enough gas to get home. After discarding my trash, I headed to Whitney Bell’s house. She put gas in my tank and five dollars in my pocket, and I came to Spiderhouse. I suppose I’ve been here for about five hours now.

Around 1:30, before heading to Tacodeli, I really began to wonder if I’d made the right decision. The surgery was to begin in thirty minutes. I texted Melanie:

Melanie, I’m really struggling with this. How can I spend that money when there are people dying all over the world.

I’m wondering if I need to cancel the surgery. It begins in thirty minutes.

Nope, you can’t cancel it.

Have you talked to Mom and Dad?

Melanie why?

Even if they’re helping me pay for it, it’s still a thousand dollars going toward an animal.

What happens if he doesn’t have the surgery?

He won’t survive.

You can’t let him die, sister. I don’t want to speak for Him, but I think God would be supportive of that.

I didn’t wrestle for too long, but for a good ten minutes, I was ready to call and cancel the surgery. Ready to simply hope for a miracle. But this miracle wouldn’t entail someone offering to pay, because that wasn’t the issue. The issue was about one thousand dollars going to keep my dog alive, knowing that in places like Uganda and Haiti people were (are) fighting for their lives as well. It felt as if, essentially, I was choosing an animal’s life over the lives of human beings. How could I do that in good conscience?

Images of people suffering in Haiti filled my brain. I could hear echoes of myself encouraging people to find something to give up so that other people could receive the resources they need to survive. Shane Claiborne’s face was sitting in front of me, reminding me of all I had learned from “The Irresistible Revolution” - a book that had rocked my world after a cute Starbucks barista had recommended it.

Out of nowhere, or maybe somewhere very particular, came these lyrics:

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise

Thou my inheritance now and always

First and thou only first in my heart

Thou in me dwelling, my treasure thou art

I sang it. Like fives times, probably more.

I chose not to stop the surgery. I don’t know if I made the right decision or not. Was God asking me to put Isaac on the altar? I like to think I was ready to do so. Maybe I made the wrong decision. But what I know is this.

I have a full time job for the first time - and a salary. I have the ability to buy clothes, makeup, and to get hair cuts from nice places. I am surrounded by beautiful people who have much. I’ve begun to see that I need much. Better makeup, cuter clothes, an iPhone. The conviction to live simply and stray far from materialism has quietly faded. I’ve even begun to rationalize things this way:

If I feel cuter, and if I feel more comfortable, I feel more confident. If I feel more confident, I’m able to better love people.

Geez, where is my love coming from? From a self-confidence?

How foolish. How foolish. How foolish.

I found a way, all of a sudden, to give one thousand dollars to my dog. I sure was blind to that money before. It sure wasn’t available to buy a tent for Haitians after the quake.

May it not take the near death of someone or something I love to remind me of essential truths.

Who am I to live lavishly, or to constantly work to beautify my outsides, when there are people suffering?

On Monday night at Signulls, I sat before all the students and talked about trials. I told them something my dear sister once shared. She told me that sometimes she almost wishes for times of heartache and trial, because it is in those times that she is drawn into a deeper level of faithfulness. It is in those times that she draws near to the heart of God. And it’s when things are going well that she becomes complacent, and she forgets things that matter.

That’s the thing. These things really matter.

These essential truths are truly...essential.

It seems so cheap to rededicate my life to simplicity...to rededicate myself to loving the poor and the suffering. Did that before, and then I found myself where I am now.

I didn’t make a New Year’s resolution this year. I have seen myself not go through with plenty of resolutions before, so why set myself up for failure?

Cheap as it has proven to be, that’s where I am now. Not a resolution of any kind, but a rededication to live daily in remembrance that nothing I have is my own. In remembrance of the fact that I am called to care for widows and orphans. To consider every day if I am using my money, my resources, my time...with just myself in mind?

I’ll continually pray against foolishness.

Oh, and they found a rock in Franklin’s intestines. It’s out now though. I’m gonna make him wear it around his neck to remind him not to eat rocks. Credit to Melanie for helping me come up with that.

.

recipe for a good morning

1 bag of earl grey tea

1 splenda

2/3 cup water

1/3 cup milk

1 Tbsp brown sugar

..and i'm off to a great start.

adventure: part 2

So today I bought this beautiful journal..actually a sketchbook..and it has a very specific purpose.

I plan to write every day about two things:

a. an adventure from that day, big or small

b. something I learned that day

Today, my adventure was simply going to eat with strangers. I hope none of them read this, that would be awkward. But anyway, though I feel confident in meeting new people, it's still a little nerve-racking to accept a lunch invitation with a group of like 7 people that you don't know at all. I decided to skip with formalities and just be myself, unapologetically. It was refreshing.

I learned two things:

First of all, apparently leaving your dog in your car for even 5 minutes is illegal. I left Franklin in the car (which yes, was hot) long enough to walk into a restaurant, set down my purse, and decide on my order. I came back out to get Franklin, who I intended to tie to a pole right outside the restaurant. *sidenote* Austin is very dog-friendly, and dogs are allowed at many, many places. It's not uncommon to tie your dog to a pole outside the restaurant where you eat. ...So anyways, I come back to my car to get Franklin, he decides to go #2 on the beautiful lawn of the offices next door (I did dispose of it, thank you.), and a cop pulls up with his sirens in full force. He said he got a call from someone that I left my dog in the car. Good GRIEF. I was able to apologize and talk my way out of it. I guess I can be glad that someone was watching out for ole' Franky-pants. I didn't even tell the random lunch crew I was eating with what happened, because I was ashamed.

I also learned from my dear friend Leigh that the Bible verse that says "perfect love casts out fear.." in the original Greek, it actually can be translated "perfect love casts out insecurity." That is beautiful to me. I can be incredibly insecure, and I am thankful that she shared that with me.

I'm excited to fill my new journal with stories and sketches of adventure and life lessons.

I leave you with a picture of where I spent the afternoon:

So I've decided to make a rule for life. Each year, I have to have a minimum of three adventures. An adventure is defined by a few characteristics:

a. said adventure must take place at least 30 minutes away from the town in which I reside at the time

b. said adventure must call for at least one full day

There are no real rules on the adventure past this...except that the idea is mainly to just forget about real life for a time. Sometimes these adventures may be planned, and sometimes they may be spontaneous. Even if the adventure HAS been planned, it can be considered null and void if I do not fully enjoy myself and/or I think about real life / take care of real life responsibilities while away. Furthermore, adventures may happen on accident - these can count as one of the three if they meet the stipulations. I can say with confidence that I am on year 3 already.

2008:

March - road trip with Jessica Lee around Alabama, Georgia, and North Carolina

July - flew to Chicago alone, road a subway for the first time, explored the city alone, and flew back to Nashville that night (one of my favorite experiences.)

August - ran (power-walked) a half-marathon at Virginia Beach with sister, cousins, and Erica Osborn. then explored DC on foot, which was quite painful post-marathon.

September - drove ridiculous night hours with Jay Ferries in the middle of a week..to Chicago, again..to see Sigur Ros in concert

2009:
March - road trip to Savannah with three life long friends. Saint Patricks Day madness.

August (through December) - transplanted to San Diego, lived with 59 others in one house, and lived out of a van for ten weeks
December - spontaneous road trip to Los Angeles in an unbelievably crammed car to eat fried chicken and waffles


2010:
So far..I have New York City with Kendra in May.
I'm hoping to find myself in the pacific northwest at some point..and I want to venture with a like-minded friend somewhere around East Texas..explore a small, random town..hike..take fun pictures.


Lately I've been concentrating on really being alive. Alive in the small moments and the big. Alive around people that don't make me feel too alive, and alive around the people that re-open my eyes to beauty and laughter. And it's adventures such as these that help me remember to be alive. I cannot wait to see what this year will hold! I'm working out in my head ways that I can make an intentional effort to get outside my comfort zone in some way each week.

ablaze

i just watched jonsi birgisson's first solo video - for the song "go do." it

confirmed that he is absolutely my favorite artist. by an immense long-shot.

it's almost as if every time jonsi sets out to create something, whether it be within sigur ros, riceboy sleeps, or on his own, he first asks, "how can i

shape this into a way that will cause melissa carter's heart to explode?"

what is it in life that really sets your heart on fire? if you are a follower of

Jesus, it is probably that thing that just causes you to worship.

as far as i know, jonsi is not a Jesus follower. but it is his work that has so often caused me to fall on my knees in praise.

i am so thankful that God meets me in such places of beauty. when it is not an experience accompanied with sigur ros/jonsi, it is in the parks and

forests of tennessee, the mountains of new mexico and colorado, or the

beaches of south georgia.

when i see jonsi perform in new york city, i know it will be a religious

experience, just as it was when i saw sigur ros at the chicago theater in

september of 2008.

i know not everyone hears what i hear when i listen to sigur ros. i know not

everyone sees what i see when i flip through the pages of a riceboy sleeps

book. but i know there are things others see and things others hear that i

do not. things that set their hearts ablaze as mine hardly skips a beat.

april 6 is the day when jonsi's album releases. i plan to take the day off, andgo on an adventure in east texas with my new treasure.

This is my life today.

Loving my pup Franklin so much.

especially when he pounces

Wintersleep, Explosions and Bon Iver.

and maybe a little Sufjan

Wondering if my sarcasm is too much.

and loving to be hit with it by others

Kettle corn, sugar free fudgepops, and veggie patties.

ooh! and curry

A desire to create.

admiring the creators around me

Seeing Scripture come alive in a new way as I open commentaries.

particularly Acts

Large levels of excitement as I dream of seeing Jonsi in New York.

with my dear friend Kendra

Eagerly awaiting warmth so I can go on long walks.

they refresh my spirit

Cherishing particular friendships a lot.

they refresh my spirit

Loving the moment while dreaming of the future.

my heart tells me it will be bright

Ordinary.

I had no idea tour would be this hard.

I'm learning to value time with people more than I do sleep.

I'm learning to focus more on what people are saying rather than what I will say next.

I'm learning that I can push myself a lot more than I originally thought.

I'm learning that you don't always have to pretend that life is fairy tale romantic. And that there is beauty in the rough days..the moments when no one really has anything interesting to say..beauty in realizing that I'm extraordinarily ordinary.

I'm learning to embrace my love of cheap buffets. The fact that not everyone is going to love my music. The fact that I often don't know where I'm going with what I'm saying. The fact that sometimes I fail.

But of all the things I've learned, this is what I most love:

We spend almost every night in a different house. We have met so many incredible people. But by the world's standards, they are completely ordinary.

Last night we stayed in an old couple's house. They have lived in the same low income neighborhood outside Houston for 30 years. They have had pretty boring jobs inside the oil business. Their house is decorated with trinkets you would find at any garage sale. Pretty boring..pretty ordinary. They can't offer you important social connections, and they can't offer you extravagant gifts.

But their stories are incredible. Their lives have been so rich. They told us about the young people they have taken into their home. Young people whose parents had abandoned them. They loved on them. They offered them a safe home, with biscuits at breakfast and a comfortable place to sleep. They have had near death experiences that blew my mind. As the old man told the tale of an 8,000 pound piece of machinery that nearly crushed him he said, with a laugh, "that didn't feel too good." He was so light-hearted, and he had such a refreshing spirit about him. He and his wife had a strength about them that is so rare. They had wall upon wall of photos of the people in their lives. They shared countless stories with us about the friends and family on the walls.

This morning I sat around the table with this couple, their friend Tom, and my roadie family. We ate sausage, bacon, eggs, biscuits, campfire potatoes (so good), and...steak. They prepared a feast of a breakfast for us. The 7 of us crowded around a small table for 4.

It has been so heavily impressed upon me that we so often want to be known. We want to be known by the world. We want to make a name for ourselves. We want to be noted as someone of special success. We want to have remarkable experiences and impress people with our adventures and well-roundedness.

As we have traveled from house to house, I have learned the stories of people the world considers small. I have seen the way they impact the people around them. I know that this impact reaches so much farther than these people can know. I love seeing how content people are in so many different towns..in these Texas/New Mexico towns where most everything is just so ordinary. But completely extraordinary. And so beautiful. It makes me so much more content as I look ahead and to the future. It has given me such a new perspective on what it means to live a full life.

My blog posts are so borinnnnnnggggg.

They work us so hard it's not even funny. Like honestly? I know I've been tested before..but not like this. I've been thrown into something so completely different from anything else.

But I laugh so hard in this house. We have hour long sing a longs as we work.

Yeah..I get to work at 7:30 every day, and we leave between 6 and 7..except for on extra training days, when we leave around 10. That's a long day.

Friday nights are the one possible night when we can chill out and stop thinking about work. It's pretty amazing. Tonight I just wanted to bake for everyone..I've been wanting to for the past 17 days..and I made a gooey butter cake. Cut into 40 pieces..so not everyone got a bite-sized piece, but everyone loved it, and it made me so happy. I love how people were saying I was the best cook ever..it's the easiest thing to make ever. I think it was extra delicious because we roadies live off rice cakes and sandwiches and cans of corn and easy mac.. but I bought some bulk stuff at the grocery store, and I make sandwiches at lunch with turkey, feta cheese and avocado or home-made guacamole. SO GOOD. At night I have lean pockets, and while we're at it..in the morning I have cream of wheat. I quite satisfied with these selections. I'm glad the bulk of this post is about food..I could be talking about how these weeks have affected me as a person, but instead I tell you about my eating habits.

In a similarly shallow vein, we were in downtown San Diego for an event one night and ran into Kipton, the runner-up on The Bachelorette. Needless to say, I was pumped.

Screenings have been booked around Lubbock..and I cannot wait to share this story inside my old schools..inside my church..

That's all I've got for now. It's time for bed.

I am thankful every day that I wake up for those people who have helped me get here, and for those who are so supportive and encouraging.

I honestly cannot believe I made it to San Diego. The last few weeks I have been so swamped with pre-arrival activities and the longest paper ever for a class at Lipscomb..and then I was baking lots for the fabulous people who ordered cookies and such from me. So yeah, I wanted to be excited for this but I didn't really see light at the end of the tunnel until..the night before I left. Which was Tuesday, August 4th.

Cannot believe how crazy pretty this place is. When the plane was landing my reaction was really nerdy and I unashamedly was taking pictures all over the place with my camera phone, and audibly exclaiming. 

When I arrived, I was picked up by one of the Invisible Children staff members, who also was picking up two guys from Detroit. Hello, funniest boys ever. My first impression of fellow roadies started off quite well because I laughed my head off the entire way to the IC offices, which is where we went first thing.

All the roadies and the IC "Movement" staff members watched a documentary outside about the first landing on the moon. People thought those moon-walking fools were crazy. They couldn't be stopped by nay-sayers. They were some serious dreamers. The movie started at like 8:30, and so it was a late evening..didn't get back to the roadie house (where 60 of us are living, don't worry. 7 bedrooms, 60 young people.) until 2:30 AM Texas time..because the hungry boys insisted we stop at In and Out on the way home..ya know, the burger place everyone raves about. I tried a bite of our nice Aussie roadie's hamburger..I mean, it was good.  My life isn't changed. Oops. Anyways, then we had to stop a taco place too. Really not surprised that we were making midnight runs to fast food joints. 

Got in bed at about 2:30 Cali time..4:30 Texas time..and I was already mad crazy sleep deprived. Had a very early morning today, our first day in the office. I suppose most mornings will be 6 A.M.ish for me. I live in a very small room with 5 other girls..3 sets of bunk beds with a small little path to walk in. Then there's the whole 30 girls, 2 shower thing. Haha..it's all part of it, and we're all totally down with it. 

Today at the offices we had a tour of everything, met all the staff members, and went through session after session after session of information on the IC mission..programs..history..you name it. My rear end is ti-yerd. But what an incredible day. I absolutely believe in this organization. The values of it resonate with me in a serrrrious way. I'm so in this it's not even funny. I want to shove myself out of it though. This is not about me, and I never want to become arrogant and I cannot be fooled into thinking I like "get it" or something. No no no. 

I am so thankful for being here. Missing you guys. And dangit, missing my puppy Daisy.

Oh also. I have the opportunity to go to Uganda either next month or in January..for 10 days. I have another $2000 to do so. We would be visiting with victims of the war, and would really get to see the programs IC has set in place over there. 

Oh how I want to go to Uganda. Oh how I do not want to raise another $2000. I'm really putting this one in God's hands. He knows I want to go..but I don't have it in me to pursue a lot more fundraising..so I'm trusting if I'm supposed to go, doors will open and it will be clear that that's where I'm supposed to me.

my application video!

Thought I'd post a link to the 5 minute video I had to make with my roadie application video. I had to keep it set to "private" until decisions were made for the group of fall roadies! The video isn't super exciting, but here it is.

http://www.youtube.com/user/melac05#play/all/uploads-all/0/seZQDN5jdII

The people of East Africa and Congo are beautiful
Their stories are real
Their voices have been silenced
Yet I have heard their voice,
and I want to join with others who aren't willing to abandon dreams of peace and restoration.
The heart behind Invisible Children is good, and it is true. I have seen it, I have heard it.
I want to use what I have been given for something greater than myself.
I cannot and will not turn a blind eye to the atrocities caused by this war.
It won't always be easy. I am broken. My strength will fail and my efforts will fall short.
And so I ask and I pray that God work through my cracked hands, my crippled feed, and my willing spirit.

Home is wonderful. I love just being with family. Hanging out with mom and dad in the living room doing nothing in particular is one of my favorite things to do. We have a new addition to the family - a maltese named Sandy. At first I didn't know how to feel, because my loyalties lie with Buddy, our lhasa apso that we got Christmas of 1994. He has been my puppy for 15 years and I don't want Sandy stealing any of his attention! But she has grown on me. I just make it a point to divide my attention equally.

I made dinner tonight for mom, dad and both of my grandmas. One of my favorite things is making food for someone that they really enjoy. Dinner was a hit. I made these soft tacos with pork, homemade guacamole, and chilied pecans. OH MY WORD. They were delish. Get the recipe from me, right now. I also made an apricot peach cobbler. Mmmm.

While I've been home I've been able to catch up with four friends. Three of the four have lived in East Africa for at least a year. One of them (my age) lived in a mud hut by himself. The LRA hadn't been active in the area where he was staying in quite a while - until two days after he moved in. Then for many, many nights, he laid in his hut while bombs flew over him. He heard bullets going by..bullets landing in the dirt..as he would (attempt to) go to sleep, he literally did not know if he would wake to see the next morning. He also saw a young 8-year-old Sudanese boy almost beaten to death by government officials who wrongly suspected him of being an LRA soldier.

..I've heard incredible stories that have made every"thing" so much more real to me.

I've been really challenged since I've decided to be a roadie with Invisible Children. Many have been supportive and encouraging. Many have been somewhat supportive, with reservation. Some have cheered me on blindly, assuming they should because I'm going to work with .. something .. Africa related .. and others have been a bit critical of my decision - either directly or nondirectly.

I so value honesty and transparency. I am really thankful for those who have told me how they really feel. It has caused me to really closely evaluate why I made the decision that I did, and why I have chosen to become so closely involved with this organization.

I am such a people pleaser. If people don't like what I'm doing, I tell myself that I should change and mold myself or the situation into a way that will please everyone. In the last month I have begun the process of liberating myself..or..allowing God to liberate me..from the binds of people-pleasing.

I feel so confident in my decision. I realize that non-profit organizations as a whole are a little..eh, risky. I firmly believe that any person should really look closely into a non-profit before deciding to become involved, or even deciding to donate money. I also realize that Invisible Children is not the answer to all of the world's problems. It is a group and a movement with a wonderful vision and heart, but there are other groups and movements that also have a wonderful vision and heart. Undoubtedly, I want to urge all of those that I meet to learn more about what Invisible Children is doing, and to cast their support in one way another, big or small. But most of all, I would want to encourage people to really evaluate what their hearts beat for.I would want them to take a good look at their gifts, passions, resources..and find out where it is that they might be led. That may mean quitting a job and doing something radical. Or that may mean opening one's eyes to a lonely neighbor who could use a visit every now and then. Each role is of equal importance and value.

I suppose my greatest fear is that I will die not having lived for anything greater than myself. So with that said, I want to encourage others to live for something greater than themselves.

Happy 4th. God, do bless America - but God, bless this world. We are thankful for our freedom. But I pray freedom for the other countries. And I pray that while we celebrate freedom and sacrfice tomorrow, we would remember all the people just like us living outside American soil. I pray especially for Uganda, Congo, Sudan, Iraq, Iran, and Honduras.

Hey fam and friends.

I’m sorry for being the hardest person to keep up with.

As most of you know, I like to fly by the seat of my pants.

In May I applied to be a roadie this fall with Invisible Children. On Friday June 19th I received a call from Tiffany at IC letting me know that I was chosen to be part of the team. I am so so excited for this chapter of my life! But things have drastically changed in the last week.

I have to be in San Diego on August 3rd. I was planning to spend a few days at home in Lubbock if I got the internship, and wanted to be in Texas by July 25th so I could be at one of my best friend’s (Ashley Adamson’s) wedding.

I started a job at Cheesecake Factory as a server here in Nashville on June 18th. The training process there is QUITE extensive, and wasn’t going to end for me until July 4th. That means that within the week that training ended I was already going to have to put in my two week notice to quit. I couldn’t in good conscience go through the training process without telling my managers that I would soon be moving to San Diego. Once I told them they were very understanding, and we agreed that for a variety of very good reasons it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to work at CF for only a few weeks. They did, however, tell me that if I return to Nashville after the internship that I would have a job with them!

It’s very hard to find a job for only a few weeks. I don’t even have time to set something up - I need income immediately! My boss back home in Lubbock from my high school job at On the Border said he would let me come back and work for a few weeks before I head to California.

Therefore, I’m going back to Lubbock - next week. I’ll be able to work, finish up my summer school classes at Lipscomb online, and spend time with my family. I haven’t lived at home in years and am really excited to be there for the month of July.
I am so sad to leave Nashville - especially so suddenly, but after long discussions with people who love me most, know me best, and whose opinion I value and trust, I decided this was really the best option. Furthermore, I really really feel God’s hand in all of this. I’ve hardly had to do anything throughout this entire process. He has been in the details. Everything has been happening quickly and smoothly and I haven’t had to worry about anything for even a minute. It’s like it’s all been laid out for me and I’m simply be asked to follow.

I received news that I would be a roadie and quit my job at CF just in time to allow me to go to D.C. for Lobby Days with Invisible Children this past weekend. I was worried about the trip financially, but the money was taken care of in ways that were very obviously not coincidental.

I’ll be in San Diego from August to December. For the first 5 weeks I will go through training. Then for 8 weeks I’ll be sent on a tour with a team of 3 other roadies in some region of the US where we will host screenings and tell people about what is going on in Northern Uganda and the Congo. Then I will be back in San Diego for 2 weeks of “debriefing and decompressing.”

Fortunately, my advisor at Lipscomb has agreed to arrange for me to receive school credit hours for my time as a roadie, and I will be able to graduate in December if everything goes according to plan.

This position is unpaid - my housing and transportation is taken care of, but I have to raise support to take care of my weekly food stipend. I’ll have to raise around $1500.
My sweet roommates are hosting an open-door goodbye type thing on Saturday night from 7 to 9:30. It’s very informal. I would love for anyone who is able to come by and say hey! It’s not a sad thing..I mean, I may be returning to Nashville in only a matter of months! It’s just really an opportunity to hug everyone since I don’t have a chance to hang out with people in the little time before I leave.

Thank you to all of you who have been so supportive and encouraging throughout all of this. Love you!