To Make His Name Great

So...what are you going to do?

A common question people have asked me while back at home this summer.

Kinda vague-sounding, but I completely understand what they're implying.

What (in the heck) am I going to do with my life after I graduate?

That can become a very heavy question very quickly. Think "cartoon spiral of doom" style. Here, let me sum it up for you with some gifs real quick -

My go-to answer is always something along the lines of - "Well, God made it very clear that London was the choice for me a year ago, so I'm counting on that happening again." Truthfully though, I think that's a bit of a cop-out. Not to say that it's untrue, but it oversimplifies some very complex situations and (more importantly) gives me way too much credit in implying that I will automatically trust God with His decision.

But people (most people) don't want a whole blog post for an answer. They want to hear- "I'm going to teach" or "I'm going to Hollywood to make it as a big time movie star" or "I'm marrying this English Baron I've been seeing and am going to live out the remainder of my life as closely to that of a Disney princess as possible."

Then a couple of days ago, I listened to David Smoak's interview of backup Baylor RB Silas Nacita. I would encourage everyone to give it a listen here, but I understand that not all of my tens of devoted blog readers bleed green and gold like myself, so let me give you some quick background info. 

Silas transferred from Cornell to come play at BU last year and found out last minute that his financial aid hadn't come through. He spent the whole year taking community college classes online - just scraping by and hoping for the chance that this year he would be back with his team. 

Thankfully, he is. Not only is he doing really well (three TDs so far this season) but he's also amassed quite the following from the Baylor community due to one of the best player nicknames I've ever heard. Go due yourself a favor and search #salsanacho on Twitter.

I googled "salsa nacho gif" and this is what the internet gave me.
Thank you once again for never letting me down, internet.

The whole interview is amazing (seriously, take ten minutes and listen) but this one particular question and answer towards the end is just something else.

DS: You score that touchdown against SMU. Does it feel like- it's all worth it at that point?

SN: I don't think it was about coming here and making a name for myself. I think what God taught me was that it wasn't about ever getting back to Baylor. It wasn't about coming here and scoring touchdowns and making my name famous. It was about understanding where I could be joyful in my life regardless if I had football, if I had school, if I had all the things that I wanted. It was about finding joy in life and it was really in Him. He gave me that joy to where I didn't need all this stuff and so when I did get here and when I am gonna be a part of it, it'll never be about me. It'll always be about somebody greater or somebody else. So I think that, just to be able to score a touchdown...it's just a "thank you, God."

Cut to a few days later. I'm listening to the first of Matt Chandler's sermons in his new series called "A Beautiful Design." Lucky for me, the Village put up the perfect 2 minute clip of it on their YouTube channel -

We were created by a creator. Which means - this is gonna sting a little bit - we are not the measure of anything...Just to be more direct and straight with you since we have this strong relationship -

You're not the point. 

I'm not the point.

We're not the point.

In the expanse of the universe, even though we have a special place in the creative order...you and I as created beings are not the point - The creator's the point.

And I'll tell you why this rubs us the wrong way- we wanna be the point.

I do. I want to be the point so badly sometimes.

When I think about that question of "what are you going to do?" my mind easily translates it to "what kind of name are you going to make for yourself?" I think of all the ways I might be successful, all the ways I might fail, what jobs I'll get, what city I'll live in, on and on. The entertainment industry strives on self. Yes, theatre is a collaborative art form (and I love it for that) but the culture of these "I'm gonna make it big" cities is very "me, myself, and I" based. How can I make my name great? It's so easy to slip into that, to want that, to work for that. 

Silas could so easily turn his story into a "look at everything I've done" moment and no one would fault him. But instead he did the complete opposite. His answer broke my heart in all the best ways. That humility is...well, humbling.

Ultimately, no matter how much I love performing, I have to have that same conviction that Silas does. To borrow from his words- I want to be joyful in my life regardless of if I have theatre, if I find the perfect job, get the perfect role, get any role. I want to find joy in life through Christ so that if I am ever "successful" - I'll already know that it isn't about me. As Chandler eloquently reinforced, it'll never be about me. It's about my creator.

So...what am I going to do?

Whatever the year after grad school brings me (even if no touchdown equivalents are involved) I want to be able to say "thank you, God" with my full heart. That's my prayer.

I fly back to London on Wednesday. It's been a wonderful summer, Texas.

To making it about Him,

p.s. - If you want to see all of Matt's sermon, it's available here to watch or listen to.

The Final Days

I set all the travel notifications.

I've eaten all the delicious Texas food.

I packed my life into 5 suitcases (3 big/2 little if you're a detail person).

I even shot a goodbye tour of Waco with the lovely Casen:

Backtracking to a few weeks ago, my homegroup from The Village threw me a going away party. I've been so incredibly blessed by this group of people. I could never put into words what they've done for my heart and what the Lord has shown me through their grace, patience, and love. Thank you to Janet, Marc, Kate, Jeremy, Hannah, Cory, Jody, Baron, Dan, Worris, Kristin, the Allens, the Wrens, the McCords, the Grahams, and everyone else that I had the pleasure of fellowshipping with at the Oglesby abode these past 2.5 years. I love you so!

A few photographic highlights from the night:

For the party, my friends had written me letters to open while I'm in London. I in turn made them each a copy of this:

And what was on this cd, you ask? Not to worry, I made a track listing (ignore the red squiggles just like I do):

It's a strange, extremely eclectic mix, but hey, every song means something to me. Just be glad I restrained myself and didn't include any 1D.

I came back home from DFW with an extremely full heart and a need to do lots of organizing, lots of packing, and lots of procrastinating from doing those other two things. (#Netflix) Luckily you can only stare at your computer screen for so long until your eyes rebel and force you on to other, more important tasks. 

One thing you never think you're going to run out of is luggage tags. Pro tip: If you do, just use it as another opportunity to buy something to showcase your obnoxious state pride.

This past week, I headed back up to DFW for some last minute quality time with a few very important people. It feels like I've been driving this I-35 stretch so many times my car should be able to autopilot itself there by now. The journey is always worth it to see these wonderful friends.

I'm spending my last few days here in lovely Waco running errands, basking in the smog-free sunlight, racking up phone bills by calling London at 3 a.m. to figure out utilities at my new place, enjoying my family, and assuring Zorro that "I'll be back before he knows it so no need to fall into a deep depression over my leaving." 

Either he doesn't believe me or doesn't care. I can't tell.

On Thursday, my BFFAE (google it) Emily will drive me up to DFW where I'll fly off for the beginning of an adventurous two years. It's very fitting for Em to drop me off since our Summer 2011 trip to London reminded me beyond a doubt of how much I loved this city and wanted to live, work, and study in it. If she could only stow away in my suitcase, life would be perfect.

There are two - count 'em two - Friends references above.

To my addiction of making photo collages,

John 16:33

Last week, I was blessed enough to get to visit London again. This time was different however, seeing as I wasn't as much focused on art museums, double decker tour buses, or even the West End, but instead on figuring out basic necessities to live there come September. Little things like...I don't know- a place to live. A bank account. A cell phone. Etc.

That's nice, but I think I'll go take another nap instead.

Thankfully, all of those things went about as smoothly as you could hope for (many more details to come). The welcome day at East 15 was wonderful as well. Here are a few snapshots of the place I'll be spending the majority of my time for the next two years:

And that's just the outside of stuff.

I was in quite a happy little bubble. But as my fantastic week went on, things in the world got sadder... and sadder... and sadder. Finally, I was scrolling through my newsfeed when I saw these two posts from a friend:

I remember feeling like my breath had been vacuumed out of my chest. Those statements break my heart. Regardless of what your actual feelings about the case are, when you have friends, neighbors, fellow church members who legitimately fear those above sentiments- things begin to look irreparably wrong. For me, this creates a tiny stone of hopelessness in my pocket that grows just a bit bigger with each article, news story, and social media update that lack the sensitivity and grief awareness a story such as this so desperately needs. 

And hey, I'm just a white girl. I wonder how much more I would be affected as a person of color?

I obviously didn't make this blog to discuss issues as heavy as this. I wanted to document silly London happenings like "The 10 Most Obnoxious People You Smell on the Tube" or "How to Survive Your First Actual Winter as an Expat Texan." For the past week though, this story has made me question how appropriate that might be. As in, are all these fun, lighthearted moments I document just a veil so I don't have to think about or confront the fact that racism is still rampant in this country? Sure, I could go on and on about how pretty Hyde park is in the summertime or make ten or several jokes about the podunk-ness (technical term) of the Waco airport, but what about the fact that my faith in this world has been slipping at an alarming rate? That I'm traveling down the scale to cynic way too quickly? Isn't that slightly more important and maybe even cancels out all above jokes? 

And an even scarier question - what could I ever do to make a real impact? 

I mean... I vote. I retweet Obama. I recycle. I've "adopted" several orangutans through the World Wildlife Fund. I do all those things that you're "supposed" to do, but I've felt pretty helpless as to how to be a part of any significant change.

So fast forward to yesterday. (Is that sentence an oxymoron? It feels like it might be.) My dad's up in DFW to load my washer and dryer into his car to take to Waco to keep while I'm overseas. He had a dolly and somehow we managed to get both machines downstairs without anyone dying (praise the Lord). You might think- oh, down 17 stairs, hardest part's over right? Aha! How wrong you'd be. Seeing as I'm 26, you can do some basic math and guess that my dad's not the youngest of all the spring chickens (I'm not even sure if that's how you use that phrase) and I've got a bum right shoulder. I'm looking back and forth between this dryer and the lip of his trunk, which is several feet off the ground, and thinking, "ahhh, here's where the back injuries come into play." 

All of sudden, two men get out of a nearby car and ask if they can help. Within a couple of minutes, Walter and Jose had both the washer and dryer tucked neatly into the back of my dad's Highlander. Nothing was requested of them and they weren't expecting anything in return (heck, they tried to leave before I could shake their hands). 

Sure their audience was only my dad and me, but in one gesture of compassion, they made that real impact I had been fearing was impossible from an individual. They showed undeserved grace and affected me in the best way possible.

Fast forward again to this morning. I'm at the long-awaited "official" launch of the Village Church's Fort Worth campus. Matt's sermon focused around the Great Commission text which ends with maybe the most comforting sentence a believer could read: 

And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.

This reminds me of another wonderful spot of solace found in John:

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.

My blind spot throughout the week was in my forgetfulness of humanity's brokenness. We are - I am - irreparably damaged. This life will always give us troubles and it won't distribute them in any logical or fair way. 

Some of us will be Trayvon's mother and lose our son in the most tragic of ways. 

Some of us will reach the pinnacle of worldly success, but be unable to overcome a deadly addiction. 

Some of us will have to deal with far less. 

So maybe instead of automatically distrusting those different than me (for any reason) I can dig deeper and get to know their background and where they come from as a fellow human being. The more love - the more grace - we show those around us, just like Walter and Jose did for me, the better we all can overcome and look past the world to bigger and greater things (pro tip: Jesus). 

To hoping that any of my future classmates who read this understand that you can be a Christian and a serious theatre artist too,