sorry, kelly, sometimes it means i'm lonely when i'm alone.

New friends are the best. New friends teach you new things about life and about yourself and tweak your perspective of the world ever so slightly. New friends uniquely offer you the ability to progress- to be someone now and be someone else moving forward. Not to discount the joys of reminiscing the old, but the old is unforgiving in its permanency.

I graduated college. Then went to camp. Then Europe. All of it hectic and joyful and hard and worth it, offering the hope of what's next. After Europe came life inevitable. After Europe came Houston, bills, benefits, equity, vulnerability, and hope that was simultaneously diminished and renewed. Then came the news that I was being transferred. Then came the move. But amidst the chaos I met someone.

She loves to challenge and inspire, to cry with me and silently chuckle with me, to feel my pain and sit with me in it. She loves to read and loves to dream; she loves to work on projects that will probably never actually come into fruition. Her name is Lonely. And as cheesy as it seems, Lonely has become a dear friend. She won't let me mask my insecurities or my pride with coffee dates, life group or study sessions. She won't let me push down my deepest fears and insecurities with endless "yes"s or "I'll-be-there"s. No no, she is relentless.

I could go on. On and on and on. I hate being lonely, but I love being lonely. Being lonely isn't fun; being lonely brings up more insecurities than a bikini. The thoughts normally silenced by blaring Taylor Swift or by the buzz of the new messages on my phone suddenly come to surface, and I have no choice but to deal with them in one giant snotfest on my new blue-gray sleeper love seat that cost way more than my Goodwill mind could handle. I sit there the whole time staring at my TV-less wall next to the unplugged Wifi router. But, even though I wouldn't choose the word "fun," I would definitely say it's worth it to be lonely. It's worth it to embrace all it has to offer.

I'm learning that it's okay to be not okay. That hard days happen, and that joy and pain can coexist. That I can long for old friends and new friends simultaneously, yet, somehow always fall in the tension of the two. I can go out to eat by myself. I can drink chocolate milk whenever I want. I can cry for no reason or for all the reasons. It has its perks. I'm excited for when my friend Lonely decides to pack her bags and throw the deuces my way, but until that happens I'll high-five the heck outta her!

Loneliness doesn't make life any less beautiful; it's just part of the adventure!

tippy-toein'

Sometimes you have to take off your big girl panties, put your Barbie pull-ups back on and explore the world around as if the trees are speaking, as if the chirps and the coos and the buzzes are a chorus cheering you on and as if the wind is carrying you off to a new backyard kingdom. Life is fun as and adult, but life is even more fun as an adult with childlike wonder. Do you remember all the dreaming you did before someone taught you not to? Not the 'American Dream' kind of dreaming but the I'm-gonna-crawl-in-this-wardrobe-and-find-Narnia type of dreaming. The kind that doesn't allow reality to limit it.

Why did we ever stop that?

Is it because as a child we are allowed the grace and hope of "who we wanna be when we grow up" but once we've grown up we are expected to either have fulfilled those hopes or to have welcomed dissatisfaction? Well that's dumb.

Today I got off work and drove to the bed and breakfast at which I'm staying for the next two nights. I scarfed down my salad (I know I'm proud of me, too) eager to replace the steel toes with nikes and explore the east Texas pine forest. I walked around the grassy areas, some of which were mowed and some not; I didn't mind it either way. There was a ginormous tree that had fallen over so naturally I climbed on top and walked down the length. Stopping in the middle, I began to bounce up and down as the oscillations grew and grew. I began to giggle down deep in my belly and thought to myself, "I'm enjoying this as if I were a little kid!" 

And then it dawned on me that this concept might be the secret to life. And if not that, then at least a pretty dang good idea!

You know when there was the company-wide 'take your child to work' day? And you felt mega important as you walked into your daddy's office while his massive hand swallowed your own. You were able to peer just over the desk if you got on your very tippy toes. You'd play with the books and the gadgets and look at the pictures of yourself as a baby. You'd make it down the hall and discover that the break room might actually be the most glorious place you've ever seen. You thought that the corporate world was the most exciting place on the planet. Wouldn't it be neat if you still saw it that way? Wouldn't it be neat if you still treated it as if it were a place that holds endless opportunity, shows you things that make a difference, allows you to be both a learner and a teacher, etc. 

I know; I know. "Avery that's just naive and unrealistic. You don't know what my cubicle is like. I just can't find joy inside these gray walls... Blah blah emails blah retirement promotion blah blah blah."

Or maybe you just need a perspective shift. And it's a good thing you have a choice in that.

Jesus, thank You for my job. Thank You for my opportunity to learn and to be a part of an organization to which I have the ability to contribute. Thank You for loving me and loving my coworkers. Thank You that my walls are gray, but that my personality doesn't have to be. Thank you for the freedom to find community at work. Thank you that adult life is a blast!

a roll of orange tape

I find myself sitting in a hardhat, safety glasses, and FRCs which either stands for Fire Resistant Clothing or Fatally Roasty Clothing. They consist of thicky, sticky jeans and heavy long-sleeved shirts. Either way I'm happy. I learned something today... actually I learned a lot of things today, but I learned something about life today.

You know those nuggets of wisdom that Jesus throws at you in the weirdest of ways? Like when Jesus makes you get really really emotional over a little roll of orange flagging tape sitting on a hydraulic pipe-lifter-thingy? Yeah, that happened today.

Let's paint the scene. I'm sitting in a truck watching everyone get ready for the task at hand. My job today is to observe and nothing else. So I observed. I watched some guys chat about something probably really exciting, some guys testing pressure stuff, some guys getting ready to lift heavy stuff, and some guys counting pipe. The latter I watched with particular interest. They were counting so they could put orange tape on specific pipes for a very important reason, I'm sure of it. When finished, though, one of them placed the roll of orange flagging tape on top of the pipe-lifter-thingy. Hint: it didn't belong there. As the day's work began, this pipe lifter kept, you guessed it, lifting pipe. The orange roll of tape kept rolling around all inside and around it, pipe falling on top of it, but it never quite leaving the trough.

I got really concerned.

I asked my coworker about it; I asked the supervisor about it. Neither cared. I got even more concerned. "IT DOESN'T BELONG THERE," I wanted to shout. "IT DOESN'T MATTER," their shrugs replied.

Then Wisdom came and showed me something. She spoke to me about how that's the way we as a generation like to treat people. When we first meet people, we notice the little things. We have an affinity for noticing the things that they do wrong, the words or actions that are out of place. We notice their annoying habits and the imperfections. The thing is, though, that sometimes it stops there. Most often, we don't take the time to understand the person. Their history, the way they work, what they need. We don't try and see their purpose, what they have to offer. Most often we just see the little orange roll of tape in their life  that is most definitely in the wrong place.

But it doesn't matter. You see, the reason this was a big deal to me today is that I only looked at this small little piece of everything going on. Sure, the tape didn't belong there. But that never once stopped the hydraulic pipe-lifter-thingy from lifting pipe, or the pressure testers from testing pressure, or the spinny thing from spinning, or me from observing. It changed nothing. It didn't stop the crew from accomplishing its purpose. Everyone else knew that, but it took me a minute to understand.

If I had chosen to see the greater purpose of everyone and everything that was there today, I would have realized very quickly that the orange tape being in the wrong place didn't really matter. Similarly, if I choose to see people for their greater purpose, what they are meant to do in this crazy little life, I would quickly realize that their small little bad habits or annoying tendencies actually don't really matter. They don't disqualify the person from fulfilling their purpose, and they sure don't disqualify me from helping them fulfill their purpose.

Fun times in 104 degree heat and 81% humidity sitting in an air-conditioned truck watching people work way harder than me, and learning a whole lot more than a textbook could ever teach me.

Stay golden.

The coolest thing happened today: I got a new family. Not to say anything negative about the other families I have, but for the next six weeks I get the joy of standing alongside four beautiful sisters in our family of five.

[[picture to come]]

I'm thankful. Just thankful. I firmly stand on the truth that the people by whom we are surrounded will together be the greatest catalyst for change in our lives. So the fact that I get to be changed, shaped, molded for good by these women is the biggest blessing.

Camp is a very unique place, and I don't mean that as a euphemism. Camp is the place where crazy is normal, being drenched in sweat doesn't actually warrant a shower, being vulnerable is expected, loving is easy, and remaining the same is darn near impossible. Camp is a dream come true... And I'm still only in staff training.

I'm already learning the joy of celebration in lieu of the life-sucking pain of comparison. People are cool. Sky Ranch people are, unbiasedly, the most incredible conglomeration of human beings on this planet. Everyone is awesome, including me, which is the hard one to believe. I don't typically feel that, but I have this incredible God in me who actually makes me awesome. I can already tell camp is gonna be the hardest, most rewarding experience yet.

My idea of leadership is going to have to shift. Leading, much like love, is a choice. It requires all of you and more; demands you to die every day to yourself; expects you to never settle; rewards you beyond belief. I love leadership. I love leading leaders. I love being led by the most loving, gentle Spirit. I love learning to lead more and more every day and love that it never has to stop.

post-grad summer ain't no bummer

Here we go.

Blogging ain't my thing, but it could be. Although I am a linear thinker, I am not just a linear thinker... so here is one way to break the mold and be creative. "Writing for fun?" they say. I'm not quite sure who "they" are... but I definitely feel the invisible critique of my actions. Yes, writing for fun. For no reason.

Today I find myself at the beginning. I kind of feel as if someone dumped a packet of pop rocks in my stomach, the green kind because they're the best. It is the beginning. You know when you close one chapter and begin another, but the page hasn't quite fully turned yet? Your eyes are begging for the page to turn faster so you can catch a glimpse of the next chapter's title. So you can be clued in to what the heck is going on. That's today.

I go to Sky Ranch today. Don't know what that is? Click here to find out. I love it, even though I've never been. Let me tell you a quick story.

Last summer I lived alone, so I would often find myself rambling to Jesus while lounging in the hammock among the fireflies. I was frustrated at work at the time; I was unhappy and telling my sweet Daddy all about it.

He asked me, "Avery, what is a dream of yours that has died?"

Caught off guard, I replied, "What do you mean, Jesus? I am twenty years old, a young'n. I haven't had time for a dream to die yet!"

Sweet Jesus and His patience respond, "Avery, what is a dream of yours that has died?"

The whole not-changing-the-phrasing-of-the-question thing clued me in that I should probably think a little deeper. Summer camp counselor. That is the dream that has died. I had wanted to be a summer camp counselor forever and ever, but never had the opportunity.

Jesus told me that I could go to camp the next summer, but I told Him I had to grow up and be a big kid and start a big kid job. He laughed and said I could go to camp the next summer.

So I am.

God is a dream-restorer, a patient ear, a best friend, a good gift-giver, a great daddio, a big ol' belly laugher, a great counselor, and a believer in my life. He is quick to deposit dreams in us, and I recommend not shoving them down. I recommend letting Him restore them. It actually doesn't matter how old or young you are. It's not too late. It's never too late with Him.

Love Him, love you,

Aves