Remembering MLK

Roanoke may not have given me the day off, but in celebration of Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I spent an hour reading and meditating on King's "I've been to the Mountaintop" speech, delivered in Memphis, Tennessee hours before his assassination. Below are a few parts that really stuck with me. I and millions more are grateful for his faithfulness and leadership at the height of the Civil Rights Movement. King has been dead for nearly half a century now, but his words are immortal. They are true, they are heartfelt, they are convincing. Most of all, they continue to spur us on to address and alleviate the many injustices that remain today.

It is no longer a choice between violence and nonviolence in this world; it's nonviolence or nonexistence.

Bull Connor didn't know history. He knew a kind of physics that somehow didn't relate to the transphysics that we knew about. And that was the fact that there was a certain kind of fire that no water could put out.

Let us develop a kind of dangerous unselfishness.

Let us rise up tonight with a greater readiness. Let us stand with a greater determination. And let us move on in these powerful days, these days of challenge to make America what it ought to be. We have an opportunity to make America a better nation.

Negroes in Albany, Georgia, decided to straighten their backs up. And whenever men and women straighten their backs up, they are going somewhere, because a man can't ride your back unless it is bent.

Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn't matter with me now, because I've been to the mountaintop.

And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!

I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man! Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!!

Guest Appearance: Dealing with Depression

It's been a rough semester for my sister, Georgia.  She has learned a lot from it, though, and she asked if she could share her reflections on my blog.  Enjoy a post from my first guest writer and superstar sister!

Sometimes it is hard to point to the exact root of your emotions. People expect a list of reasons to validate the way you feel.  I think for too long I kept going through the motions, smiling every morning I rolled out of bed, and continuing to tell myself I could keep up the good front.  The death of a friend, broken relationships, the constant pressure from coaches and school, and a deep seeded sadness that I don’t think I could ever explain all played a role in this pit I was being sucked into, and I was stuck trying to claw my way out, but with every motion I made the hole got deeper.

            

           This year has been difficult. Probably the hardest ever. I am a serious fan of being in control of my emotions.  And that becomes a problem when you are faced with depression.  Half the time I would feel things and not know why exactly I was feeling that way.  That is something I never wish on anyone.  I was going through my journal yesterday and found a page that pretty much sums up where I was for a good chunk of this semester.

“I AM BROKEN. There is no other way to put it.  My heart is broken. So much of my soul feels dead.  I have a sadness I can’t shake.  For weeks I have been exhausted and drained because I can’t carry this weight.  I am in a dark place that only the Lord can bring me out of.  God I need you. I can’t do this by myself.”

Kind of scary? Yeah.  When I read that yesterday it was hard for me not to relive those emotions.  The most beautiful thing about being in such a dark place for so long is you are literally stripped of anything and everything you once depended on.  God is it.  He is your man.  Any light that shines is Him because there is a darkness so thick around you that God is the only thing that can pierce it.  Even though I was in the most pain and dealt with the most fear I have ever been faced with this year, I had a peace in the depths of my soul that I can only attribute to the Lord.  When you don’t have anything else propping you up, God pretty much takes the reins.

And take the reins He did.  When I was reluctant to trust the Lord when everything was going my way, he took everything away so I would. God has a special place for the brokenhearted.  He takes the tears that come far too frequently and holds you like a child - no matter how old you find yourself.  Even though this year has been so much harder than I could have ever imagined, I wouldn’t take it back.  God was the closest I have ever experienced Him, and if I had other things to cling to nothing would have changed in my life. I’m not trying to idealize depression; it actually is terrible- but God is the greatest, and His hand in any situation can change your life and change the way you look at other people. 

            So with that, I challenge you to go throughout your day today and look at people differently - try to understand where they may be coming from before your emotions get the best of you.  Remember that every person on earth is a child of the King, and that includes you. When the world gets the best of you, know that there is a love out there stronger than any other force in the universe, and it can be showered on you. That is pretty amazing if you ask me. So go out and change a life, you’ll never know the impact you can make if you don’t act. 

With Love,
Georgia Compton

(Almost) Winter Break

I am home. Good God almighty, I am grateful to say that. With grad school applications and a stupid online driver improvement course (I'm officially a member of the speeding ticket club…) still to be completed, I’m not quite in the clear for winter break relaxation. The weight of a grueling semester has finally lifted off my shoulders, though, and that is satisfying enough.

One Helluva Semester

I just discovered an index card I taped to my bedroom wall this past summer titled "Mentally Prepare: Fall 2014," listing all the things I was committed to this past semester.  How satisfying it is to pull that down and rip it into shreds [done!]. My summer August apprehension was justified; I knew the work load I was taking on this semester was not sustainable, and the semester proved me right.

I kept my smile and stayed positive. I reminded myself of the importance of balance. I tried not to take my assignments (or myself) too seriously. But perpetual busy-ness pretty much sums up the last three and a half months of my life. Fortunately, I don’t believe in perpetual sleep deprivation, so I saved myself from turning into a walking zombie after all but a few late nights. My schedule were packed and moments of relaxation few. Tuesdays were the longest, but every day was almost as demanding:

7:50        Breakfast with Lydia

8:30        Education

10:10      Peace

11:45      Scarf down some lunch

12:30      Change for tennis

1:10        Suck at playing tennis

2:30        5.5-minute shower to mercifully save my classmates from my sweaty self

2:50        Shakespeare

4:30        Shakespeare film lab

7:00        Dinner

8:00        RA meeting

Every freaking hour scheduled out. Just let me know when I am supposed to do the five hours of reading for Wednesday’s homework. So much for a morning quiet time of prayer, or exercise (tennis does not count. But I’ll get into that momentarily), or…what?! A social life? Is that a thing? It’s stirring blurry memories of a happier time far past. When did I miss the memo that my life was to become just as regimented as it would be at a military academy? Excuse my sarcasm; I joke, I joke. Kind of.

One morning at breakfast, I ran into Samson, who leads the 6:30 am boot camp I dragged my butt to a few times this semester.

Samson is bald and sports a goatee. Though he is a bit squat, waddling a little from past football injuries, his name is still appropriate. He has a commanding presence, and his voice carries the way you’d expect from an ex-marine. “JComp!” he yells as I walk by his table to dispose of my cereal bowl.

I whirl around, caught off-guard. I’m a pretty focused, one-track gal. I always walk like I’m on mission, even to the dishwashing conveyor belt. People used to joke in high school that they would wave at me in the hallways and I would walk right on by because I did not even notice them.

“Haven’t seen you at boot camp lately. You gonna come back around soon?”

“I hope so, Samson.” I shrug. I’m tired. “I’ve got a really heavy course load, though. I’m just trying to get through right now.”

“Don’t ‘just get through,’ JComp. Climb the mountain and stomp on it.”

I smile. “Thanks Samson. That’s good advice.”

And it was. I had to donn my figurative mountaineering gear this semester. I faced a mountain whose climbing grade was perhaps not comparable to the Himalayas, but was far steeper than the Southern Appalachia I'm so fond of. I wrote over 200 pages of papers and reading responses just to summit it. It took a lot more reading, research, and active participation to stomp on it.

Now that I am back in the valley, I think I did. I kicked and jumped and stomped til I had nothing left. Those A's gave the mountain a beating.

Tennis

Which brings us to the bane of my academic excellence this past term.

For my mandatory health and wellness class, I enrolled in tennis because I wanted to challenge myself. I could have signed up for backpacking and sailed right through a harbor of calm water. I wanted to learn a new game, though. Tennis, I figured, is something I can play for the rest of my life. I did not figure that I would be terrible at it. Being one's best is important to me, but I wish I didn’t care about grades quite so much. For an overachiever like me, though, the pressure only builds to make more good grades as the A’s accumulate. And tennis – tennis – was the only class where getting a B was a seriously feasible possibility. As my final grades attest, I made it out with an A-, which I'll deal with. I just couldn't "swing" that A.

Go ahead and laugh. Everyone else is.

I gave myself some slack the first half of the course. We were all newbies, and none of us knew what we were doing. But then people started improving, and I did not. As the margin of skill between my classmates and me increased, so, too, did my gut twist just a bit more every time I set foot on the court.

Hand eye coordination is just not my thing. Neither is strategy, or keeping score, or knowing whose turn it was to serve, or what side of the court I was supposed to be on…or generally understanding WHAT THE HECK WAS EVER HAPPENING.

4 points that are not simply 1, 2, 3, 4 – oh no, let’s go by 15s why don’t we, since that’s logical. Every once in a while we’ll switch sides of the court, but if I’m your opponent, I certainly hope you’re keeping track of when that’s supposed to be, because I’m still uncertain. And to win a game, you have to be ahead by 2. If you’re not, we’ll throw in some more confusing terms like deuce and ad-ins or ad-outs. Lots more games to win a set…2 out of 3 sets to win a match. Why is there a sport that is like a mini version of inception???

Tennis reminded me how much I hate being bad at anything. How often, if I’m honest, I only stick to disciplines and hobbies that I know I’ll be good at. I hesitated on starting this blog for a long time out of that same fear. Failure sucks, and I, along with most people, would rather avoid it.

That does not mean we should, though. God did not make us to live in a spirit of fear. He wants us to step out and trust him. Only when we’re stomped to the ground do we realize how very unhelpful we are, how much we need a big God. Against all odds, the Lord has still chosen us. We are not only his handiwork; he has chosen us to do his work, because he loves us and he wants us to be part of kingdom building.

Tennis challenged me in a way that English Seminar never will, rigorous as that class may be. It has been a humble reminder of how not awesome I am. As a Christian, it was a nice allegory of my weaknesses, God’s strength, and his decision to make me go “play tennis” sometimes anyway. As a teacher, it has reinforced the importance of valuing each individual’s talents and respective intelligence. Liberal arts curriculum requirements forced me to take a quarter-credit class that I really struggled in. Some people feel that way about school eight hours a day for twelve years. When I teach, I don't want to make school even more torturous; I will capitalize on my student’s strengths.

Someday, I really hope I can actually play tennis. In the meantime, I am going to keep telling myself that it can be fun, and I will keep practicing. I even asked for a racket for Christmas!

Good Riddance

Crazy as this semester was, I proved to myself that I could do it, and I tried to do it well. Beyond all the lonesome schoolwork, this semester was still good. My residents are incredible, and I really loved serving and mentoring them. I spent a memorable long weekend in Boston with Abby at the height of New England fall weather. I stayed in regular communication with family and friends. I picked up one heck of a boyfriend who has brought tons of joy to my life, and I began to figure out post-graduation plans. Miraculously enough, I really, really love being back at Roanoke. Despite the initial challenges, low and behold, it actually is the perfect school for me.

But man I am glad to be done. Ridiculous amounts of school work: ciao, arrivederci, never again (!). I can’t wait for one final semester  of college to invest in people, share Jesus’ love, and live spontaneously.