it's a wonderful life

hey bloggums,
I'm home for a few days, chillin' out with the madre, helping her put her house back together after it's spectacular remodel, facebook stalking, pinning, and watching Say Yes to the Dress. The world is cold and quiet-- in shades of orange, red, brown, yellow and white. I laid in bed forever last night just looking out my window at the stars. They're so beautiful here. I'd almost forgotten.

I've been tirelessly searching for a job back in Lynchburg. Graduation will be here soon, and soon after that: the dreaded loan payments. Uhhhhh...yeah. I've applied to over 25 jobs...and so far: nothing. Tears. Nail-biting. Deep breaths. And Prayer.
Lots and lots of prayer.

But despite all the unsureness about what's to come, I have such a wonderful life.
And I serve a huge God.

for such things we may never know

When I was younger I used to pray that God would give me a gift exchange. You know, something like what Ariel did with Ursula in the Little Mermaid. But instead of trading my voice in for legs, I'd trade my voice in for some mad basketball skills. Because that was the 'cool' thing to do. Apparently.

The basketball thing eventually phased out when I realized that I didn't even like basketball, but as I got older it turned into other things. Today, it's become a multitude of things. For one, I'd probably rather be a writer than a singer-- but only because writing doesn't come as easily to me. I have to put a lot of effort into it. And to be honest, there's a part of me that really wants affirmation for that effort and for what's being born from it. I want people to leave comments and follow my blog-- yet a good majority of the time, my posts get no acknowledgement whatsoever. That sounds way whiny (because it is)-- but without any affirmation, I feel like I've failed....that what I've written sucks. And this goes for anything I do or take on. I need affirmation, dad gummit. It must be my love language or something. Cliche. But probably.

I might always be average at writing, at cooking, and at decorating my house. I'll even be average at singing (especially here in Lynchburg where the talent pool is insanely deep). But once I feel like quitting any one of those things simply because I can't be the 'best' at it, I've lost a battle with my pride.

I think the idea I haven't quite grasped yet, is the idea that service does not have to equate perfection. Service is not tallied by the amount of comments received on a blog post, a cooked meal, or a 'cute' house. Service is giving back to God what He has given to us, period. Therefore, only I can bring to the world what God intended me to bring, and only you can bring to the world what God intended you to bring-- the only thing is that we must bring something. Exceptional or not in its execution, it is the exact thing God desires to use for His plan and purpose-- for such things, we may never know. 

-c

this weekend and last

A trip to Atlanta and a coming down with the flu/cold was my weekend. The trip to Atlanta = great. Getting the flu = not so great. This evening, YouthQuest led worship for the department of Ministry Team's 'All-Team Meeting.' When I wasn't singing, I was coughing. Like, a lot. If you heard the ruffling of a paper bag during the message, that was me-- reaching in for another Halls. I apologize for my sick, disturbing ways.

Despite my ailments and a bunch of technical difficulties, the evening went pretty great. The YQ band is getting tighter and tighter every practice. We've come such a long way since the beginning of the semester and I'm so thankful that God has blessed us with such a faithful team. This weekend will be our first weekend traveling!
I. am. so. excited.

Do y'all have any fun plans this weekend?
-c

storytime

one of my favorite things to do is tell people about how B and I met. of course, only when they ask-- and some of you have asked, so here it is :)

Our story began in the midst of 23,000 people at Passion Conference Atlanta on January 4th, 2010.

Before the evening main session, I decided to sit down in line and work on a bible study. I was exhausted and excited and irritated all at once. Irritated, because even though I really love music, I don't really care for having a certain song stuck in my head all day long-- especially a song that I only knew six whole lines of. When I sat down in line to do my study, I had for one restful moment, forgotten about this particular song. And then (ohhhh, and then) the guy sitting next to me in line starts humming the same song.

His hair was spikey, and his jeans were skinny. He sat there on his knees, drumming on his lap, and when I should have found the predicament annoying, i found it incredibly copacetic.

"I've had that song stuck in my head all day!"

"Haha. Yeeeah, it's a good one!"

He laughed what I now know to be his "nervous laugh" and smiled. He was only 'kinda' cute to me at the time.

We introduced ourselves. Found out that we were both attending Liberty University and that we were both majoring in worship leadership. Then, all of the little pieces started to come together. Earlier that morning, my friend Annie told me about a guy she met at the main session named Brandon Sharp who was a worship leader at Liberty. Even though she told him about me, I was obscenely jealous because she wasn't about to transfer into Liberty, I was. And I didn't know a soul there.

"Wait, are you Brandon..." (I tried to remember his last name) "...Sharp?"

He laughed another nervous laugh and followed it with a quick, deep breath in, as if he were about to deliver bad news.

"Mhmm........"

For a moment he seemed disappointed, and at the time I didn't understand why. His whole demeanor shifted in an instant.

"So you're the same Brandon Sharp that met my friend Annie this morning?"

His eyes opened up wide, his back straightened up, and he leaned into me curiously. "You're THAT Chelsea?"

A week later when I started classes at Liberty, I realized why he was disappointed when I seemed to know who he was. People had been coming up to him all four days of Passion, wanting to meet the new kid on Campus Praise Band. I knew he was a worship leader there, but I had no idea what the Campus Praise Band was, nor that they led worship for the entire student body 5x a week.

It was weird seeing my friend up there on those big screens at first (heck, it's still a little weird). It took some time getting use to the stares as we walked about campus together. To me, he was just Brandon. He jumps off walls and drinks way too much caffeine. He has an alter ego that comes out past midnight, and his jokes are indescribably corny. He was my best friend.

and now, a year later, he's my boyfriend.
and i'm glad.

-c

seis meses

I've never been one to celebrate monthiversary's, but somehow B and I ended up celebrating them. On our first month he showed up at my door with a single, pink rose. The next month, two. The next, three. And the tradition just stuck. Finally this week, I have a half dozen roses on display-- as well as a venti-sized Starbucks cold cup and a 17-minute piano instrumental track he recorded just for me. He's seriously the most thoughtful, most talented person I know.

 

I ended up making him some string art to hang up in his office at Liberty-- inspired by an artist I found on Etsy. I bought a wood mount at Michaels, stained it a dark walnut color, then nailed an outline of the state of Georgia onto it, filling it in by wrapping jewelry wire from one nail across to the other, and then somehow configured a heart out of nails and wire to mark Atlanta-- the place we met. I brought him into the dining room where I had it hanging on the wall, covered his eyes, and when I had him facing it, I took my hands away and the first thing he said was, "a frog??"

I don't know. Maybe it does look like a frog-- but at least he loved it once I explained what it was. I could hear him out in the living room examining it, exclaiming a "huh!" and a "you're so creative!" every now and again. He's cute.

After exchanging gifts, we settled in and spent the rest of the day watching LOST while drinking homemade cinnamon dolce chai's (another gift to him). We only took a break from the t.v. long enough to make pancakes, eggs, and bacon for dinner, and then back to being lazy we went.

It's great being in a relationship with the right person.
So great.

-c

priorities

Good day, blog.

I just finished making lunch-- chicken fingers, via Lauren Valle. IN-credible. As a side: dad's green beans. It's a brilliant combination.

Jack is laying on top of the couch looking out the window; I'm still in the LU yoga pants and tee I slept in last night. No make-up, eyes are puffy, hair is barbaric, and my body-- a little more toned thanks to Jillian Michaels. I'm waiting for the right moment to make a Pumpkin Spice latte as I sit in this orange chair-- blogging, thinking, and praying.

I'm hurt today, y'all. And even still, the Lord leads me to still waters.

Sometime last year, when B and I were just friends, he wrote me a letter that said, "It's through other people's failures that you are shown the Lord's faithfulness, and for that, I am grateful." It was one of those letters that you hold onto. Like, forever. Timeless, because of the truth that was written into it. Today, that truth follows me around the house. Not only reminding me of our sinful nature, but of how holy, loving, and patient He is with us.

I think we all realize the reality of our nature in that we're always going to want to put ourselves first. We'll care more about ourselves than of our loved ones from time to time-- and they're going to do the same to us. It shouldn't be this way, but by His grace we can repent of it and fulfill the two greatest commandments: loving the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our mind, and with all our strength, and loving our neighbor as ourselves.

I do plenty of putting myself first. Most of it probably without even realizing it. But y'all, there's no other time I'm more aware of my selfishness and how I've hurt others than when I've been the hurt-ee.

I can understand how God may feel when I say that I love Him, yet I don't make Him a priority in my life. How He may feel when I deliberately choose other things over Him. And even still, He's there for me, being patient with me, loving and forgiving me-- and after all of this, I can see not only how I've neglected Him, but how desperately I need to be more like Him. Sometimes, being hurt is the most healing.

He must become greater-- and I, less. My family, friends, roommates, and boyfriend must become greater-- and I, less. I am incapable of loving them the way God has called me to if I'm not loving Him first.

Do any of y'all know what this is like? How in being hurt, you then see how you yourself have hurt God and others? How do you choose to make Christ a priority in your day-to-day life? And can you see a difference in the way you love others when you do?

I'd love to hear your thoughts,

-c

"shtuff"

i'm home. finally.
and it is, for a lack of better words-- lovely.

I'm currently in my new living room, sitting as close to the window as possible, trying to pick up YMCA's internet from across the street. Verizon's recent strike has left us internet-less. And so, here I sit by the window. "Borrowing."

Other than YouthQuest shenanigans and a few friends getting engaged, not much else is going on. One of these days I'll actually be able to sit down and write about more personal/spiritual "shtuff," but I don't think I've gotten to the point of being able to share them just yet. I never really know how much is too much share, so naturally I'll just revert to boring, everyday happenings. I know that there is a time to speak and a time to refrain, but my nature is totally open book and the refraining part can be tough from time to time. I write because I love it; I love crafting life into words and words into life. To me, they're one in the same. Whether or not I'm any good at it, I've no idea, but it helps me see and understand things I wouldn't have otherwise seen or understood.  And someday, I imagine, my children will look back on these posts and get to know who their mom was at their age; the good, the bad, the significant and insignificant. I've never desired that my writing be perfect in nature or in prose, because that's not reality; and because honestly, there's nowhere to go from there. I know that there will be times when I'll say more than I ought and you'll think I'm complete a heathen and want to stage an intervention and/or give me grammar lessons. But the beauty in weakness is that He is always strong, always good, always right, always loving, and always forgiving. He is what we dwell upon. I'm just a girl. Learning to be obedient to Him as I go.

Strangely, this is one of the only places in the world I feel comfortable enough to be myself in. And I am forever thankful that you let me do just that.

as always,
-c