Time to breathe in and let everything out

There are some days when getting out of bed feels like it is going to be the biggest challenged I have ever faced. My bed seems to get more comfortable every day, like the springs are gradually conforming to my body shape and I am perfectly nested in my cocoon of blankets. It doesn't help, of course, that I know there are plenty of this facing me once I exit the warm confines of my sheets. Some challenges are small (what do I eat for lunch today?) and some are bigger (what am I going to do with my life?). Knowing they are coming certainly does NOT help me get out of bed.

But up I must get and get a move on because usually by the time I have gotten up, I am running late. And I HATE to be late. This, I think, it what got me in trouble today. I was grumpy because we were running late to church and I think those with me were grumpy with me for being grumpy. Granted, I was upset about a few other things that had happened earlier in the weekend and was acting rather waspish, as tends to happen when I am upset. That is when I am snapping just to avoid the whole crying thing that I have any annoying tendency toward. Its unfortunate because people tend to be upset with me. I suppose that's life though.

I am not sure if there is actually a moral to the story in this blog post, other than the fact that I am at my most bitchy when I feel like crying. And I am well aware of this unfortunate fact but there is little to be done about it, as I'll take that over bursting into tears. Lately I've just been tired and burned out even though we are only two weeks into the semester. I just want a week off and—be warned that I am about to sound like a five year old—I want my mommy. I guess not in the normal sense of a child wanting mommy. I want time with her.

Time has become the enemy. I am afraid of how much or how little I have left with my mom. Months? Years? Decades? Will she get to help me plan my wedding someday or hold my children. The painful truth is that the answer is probably no. Time is so precious and it is so hard to be away.

All of this to say, as usual, I ought to be sleeping right now.

You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of the dust

So I've been a little distracted by life lately and therefore haven't been thinking too much about my blog until this evening when a friend mentioned his blog. I've been thinking about/reexamining my life as I prepare to enter a new phase: the dreaded post graduation phase. There are a lot of things to consider now that I hadn't thought about before and for better or worse, my life is much different from how it was a year ago. I don't know whether I ought to be terrified or excited.

I am not particularly sure if anybody actually reads my blog these days. I was far more interesting when I was living across the Atlantic and I certainly didn't update often enough for the casual observer to be apprised of my goings on. And most of my posts were boring descriptions of my daily life rather than witty commentaries on Britain, anyway. Oh well. That was more than a year ago now. I am back to being just boring old music major Caitlin with the overwhelming life and the propensity to raise her hand to answer almost every question a teacher poses. So in case there is someone out there who cares to read the musings of a 22 year old college kid, let us begin.

There are fewer than 100 days until I graduate from college and... something. Move home, for one. The plan is to take a class this summer and become a CNA (certified nursing assistant) and teach some private voice lessons. Learn French. Take the GRE's. Win the lottery. Become wildly successful. You know, normal kinds of things. Oh yes, and never take free laundry for granted again. Man do I miss being able to just wash something if I needed it, not wait until the basket is completely overflowing and threatening to encroach upon the hallway floor.

Speaking of hallways, I live in an apartment, not a dorm. Oh, do I adore living in an apartment. With a bathtub and a kitchen (not in the same place of course). And three other college girl roommates (and one additional male that doesn't technically live here but spends the bulk of his time here). But no washer and dryer of our own.

...Also, its now 1AM and I should be sleeping so this small ramble will have to do!

For a Broken World

So last night, my roommate Meri invited the Mormons into our humble abode. Elder Dukats and Elder Banks sat around our kitchen island with us and had a chat with Meri, Nikki, and myself, along with the friend they had brought along with them (they are not allowed to go see girls alone without another person).

There are a lot of misconceptions about Mormons, most of which are associated with polygamy. It happened in the past. People who do it now are excommunicated from the Mormon faith. The Mormons do consider themselves to be Christians. Eh. Debatable.

Anyway, these three Mormon guys came to my apartment to evangelize us (well, Meri. Nikki and I were just bonuses, I think). We talked about our backgrounds, our faith, etc and then they asked some questions, encouraged us to ask questions, and gave some answers. Don't get me wrong--you will not see me running around with an "Elder Wasson" nametag any time soon--but overall they seemed like nice, well-meaning guys bent on sharing the gospel. While I disagree with a lot of things they are trying to convince me are real, I think there is a lot to be learned from the Mormons.

In the Church of Latter Day Saints, every young man and woman is given the opportunity, at the age of 19, to spend two years in full time mission service for the church, knocking on doors, talking to people, and handing out copies of the Book of Mormon. While it is not required, a lot of people choose to spend two years getting paid nothing for their service. Why? Because it's important. The Mormon faith is one of the fastest growing in the world for this reason: they emphasize that every member is a missionary. This does not mean that every member because is a full-time, unpaid missionary for the rest of their lives. Rather, it means that everyone's daily life and work is their mission field.

I think the Christian Church as a whole has lost its emphasis on evangelism. In today's society, faith is such a hot button topic that many people hide their faith in a box, only to be taken out with certain people. It's like a dirty little secret. Bring other people to Christ? It's hard enough just going to church on Sunday without EVERYONE WHO DOESN'T LIKE CHRISTIANS finding out, and misinterpreting our actions as something that actually affects our lives.

In the 18th and 19th centuries, hundreds of European missionaries went to Africa to spread the gospel. Things like malaria and cholera ran rampant through Africa, not to mention the often unfriendly natives who viewed the white man as a threat to be eliminated as quickly as possible. When they moved to Africa to bring Christ to the native people, they would often pack their things in wooden boxes that were about 72" long, 24" wide, and 18" deep. Why? That's about the right size for a coffin. Most missionaries would die within three years of arriving, usually from disease. They went, knowing they would likely die.

But they went anyway. Sharing the gospel of Christ was more important to them than their very lives. Today, in our cushy, comfortable lives, full of modern conveniences, we've lost that sense of the importance of bringing others to Christ. We are afraid of what the neighbors would think if we invited them to church, or offered to pray for them. We are afraid of sounding weird, of not being accepted. So, we watch the broken pass us by and do nothing, offer nothing.

At a conference once, a speaker brought up this statistic: There are just under 7 billion people in the world. 2 billion claim to be Christians. If every Christian in the world brought a single person to Christ next week, more than half the world would be Christian. If we continued the trend of each Christian bringing one person to Christ the next week, the entire world would be Christian.

This is not to suggest this is possible (well, anything is possible with God) but rather to make this point: sharing the gospel with one person makes a difference. Praying for one person and bringing them a bible makes a difference. Christ called us the light of the world, yet I think so many of us hide under bushels, terrified that if we dare to shine, someone will want to put us out. Well guess what? The light of Christ will not be extinguished. A candle loses nothing by lighting another candle, only makes the world a brighter place.

I will fear no evil, for my God is with me

Forgive me for my abrupt reentry into the blogosphere. If only it were for a better reason... I say none of this lightly, as if this were an easy thing for me to deal with. On the contrary, I am at the place where my faith and fear collide with each other. I will choose through all of this to have faith that God can work even through this.

After five months of weight loss and lack of appetite, my mom has finally been diagnosed with something we were not expecting: small cell lung cancer. Lung cancer, as a whole, is among the deadliest of cancers. Small cell lung cancer is particularly so with a five year survival rate of less than 1%. I am facing the reality that if statistics are true, I will lose my mother before I turn 26.

Still, I remind myself that less than 1% is still a chance, a chance that my mom will be around for many years to come. I unashamedly ask God for what most doctors would consider to be a miracle and I am reminded that God has worked through many seemingly impossible circumstances. The walls of Jericho, David and Goliath, the death and Life of Christ. There is always hope, even as I face what seems impossible.

I humbly ask you, dear reader, whoever you are, whatever you are doing, to take a moment and pray for my mom right now. Pray for healing, for peace, for comfort, for wisdom, and for God's provision. May God's light be shown even in the darkest of circumstances...

If my God is with me, whom then shall I fear, whom then shall I fear?

A softer landing...

So, I apologize that for the last two months of being in oxford, I didn't post anything. I got caught up in the work and the people and the places and the libraries. Oxford was... is... magical.

I'm feeling particularly nostalgic today as I close that chapter and get ready to open a new one: back to eastern in less than a week. I have missed my friends and my professors and even work. Now, I miss my friends and my professors from Oxford. My heart has grown bigger because there are more people and places to love.

The experience was exciting and scary and fun and exhausting and aggravating and uplifting all at the same time. I wouldn't trade it for anything. For all the bad that happened this year, I would not give up 2010 for anything.

A bounce in my step and a song in my heart

So... It's been waaaaaay too long since I updated. Sorry to the few who have actually been reading! Basically, I had a whirlwind of paper writing prior to the pre-term break which sucked my soul out through my left eye socket. Said soul was returned to me over Pre-term break, in which I went to the Lake District with Simon and a few other students. It was amazing and absolutely beautiful. I had so much fun and actually got to relax! What a novel concept...

It is now full term. I have two tutorials. My primary is 'Topics in Music History after 1700' and my secondary in 'Techniques of Composition.' My tutor for the former is very nice and I have had one tutorial so far in which I don't think I embarrassed myself too much. My composition tutorial is not until Tuesday though and I'm afraid I may embarrass myself with that one. I am definitely very unsure of the quality of the string quartet which I am turning in. Oh well...

I'm sorry this is so short but I need to get some work done. Hopefully I'll write some tomorrow...

But ah! Forget my fate...

So I have not been nearly so faithful in my blog updates as I had hoped to be. Oh well. Perhaps I shall grow to be better at updating the world at large of my goings-on. In the meantime, I do have quite a bit of real academic writing to complete by Thursday 8.00.

My Henry Purcell paper is blessedly complete (well, the first draft, anyway...) and I am more than halfway through my Ralph Vaughan Williams paper. They are all that stand between me and my vacation. Well, them and more Schama. Tomorrow I need to head over to Headington Shops after our lectures are over in order to purchase knitting needles. I cannot go on vacation in England without some sort of project to work on.

I baked cinnamon rolls last night. They turned out alright although they are not my favorite baking adventure thus far. I think that would have to go to the nutella crepes. Now those were good... I really enjoy being able to cook. It feels so much more homey and domestic here than it does living in the dorms at Eastern. This is my house. I have a kitchen, a living room, a dining room, a bedroom, a bathroom, a study, a foyer, and a driveway. I unlock the front and side doors with my key and am greeted with stillness in the afternoons and raucous laughter and the smell of good food cooking when I come in the evenings. There are jokes made at each others' expense, bouts of giggles, and plenty of Hornblower.

I almost (but not really) feel sorry for Graham who has to put up with these 44 American students who run around in this house, often teasing him. As he teases us right back, I feel less sorry and will often join in the poking fun. He's really an amazing person and I'm glad he's our JD. I go to his church, where he has been kind enough to introduce me to some of his friends and help me get connected into the community. While I won't be going this week (I leave for the Lake District almost as soon as we get back from London on Thursday), I'm going to start going to Bible study at OCC.

I would say more about the amazingness of Oxford life, but as it is, Mr. Vaughan Williams is calling my name. Time to finish this paper. Betcha I can get it done before 15.00!