My 2011 started with a kiss from someone who was wishing he was kissing someone else, a drunken night, an overnight stay in an airport all alone, and lots of tears.

This year has been challenging, difficult, upsetting, and confusing.  But this year I have also had a lot of fun, seen a lot of personal victory, grown a lot, and became an adult.  

I have learned, really learned, what hurt feels like, what forgiveness feels like, what love is, how God loves me, how to love God in return, what a relationship with God is supposed to feel like, what self-discipline does in my life, what health feels like, how freeing contentment is, what good decisions feel like, how to challenge myself, and how to have the healthiest relationships I have ever known.  

My 2012 will start with a kiss from a man who loves God and loves me, in that order, who looks at me and sees my soul, and who wishes for me to be no one else but the best version of myself.  

2011 has been, so far, the best year of my life.  I know it can't be all up from here, but I hope that doing life the way I have been and walking with God will make this year not the last year I can call 'best so far'.  

Here's to 2012.
May it find us well.  May we find health and love this year.  May we learn the lessons that sometimes hurt to learn with the people who will hurt with us.  May the good things in life be amplified this year and the bad be minimized, but may we cling to joy even if it's the opposite.  May we appreciate with gratefulness and contentment all we have been given.  May we be able to look back on 2012 next year as more grown up people who are following Jesus better than before.  May we live for the only things that will last: faith, hope, and love.  And the greatest of these is love.    

Christmas at the Flanigan's

written by Ralph, the Flanigan's Christmas tree

Every year, I get pulled out of my box and set up with relative ease, thank goodness.  What a pain it would be if I was fumbled with for hours like the neighbor’s tree.  I am dressed and wrapped with lights, sometimes with that god-awful tinsel thrown all over me.  And every year I have the same thought, "Don't they ever get tired of all this?"  I mean, it's pretty much the same thing, every dang time.  They pull me out and the big, fury one sets me up.  There I will sit for the next four weeks or so, naked as a forest tree until they hook all the shiny stuff on me, and I will watch them go through their same old rituals all performed to their same old songs.  

This year there are some new faces, but everything else is pretty much going according to plan.  This afternoon, they will all go away for an hour or two and return, their faces glowing.  I'm not sure what they do when they all go away, but they come back mumbling about songs and a message and something about candles.  Oh, just that word sends chills up my trunk.  I have always been afraid of fire.  Anyway, thankfully I don't have a taste for human food, or else I would envy all the cooking things smelling up the house.  From what I can tell, they will gather around one of my uncles who I've heard was cut down for a table and enjoy their meal by the light of more of those *shudder* candles.  

I don't understand all the things they will put around me after their dinner besides the fact that they have wasted more of my relatives to wrap the boxes, only to unwrap them in the morning.  It's kind of cruel, actually, in my opinion.  I also don't understand what happens next, and I never have, probably in large part because they don't care to turn me to watch what they call a movie.  I can only listen. 

In the morning (barely morning, still dark out), there will be flying paper and boxes.  It's as if they don't even know how many had to die for this activity to happen.  If I shared human emotion, it would probably make me cry.  

It's a funny thing, though, when all the colorful paper carnage is removed and they are left with their items, there is a sense I am not sure how to name.  I have never felt it before, and not just because I have never felt.  I think it is an emotion not many humans even feel.  I guess the best word I know for it is fullness.  

There is more cooking in the other room (is eating all these humans ever do?!), and the rest of the day is mostly spent sitting around 'ooh'-ing and 'aww'-ing over all the items.  There is also more food.  

Do you see what I mean?  Year after year, this is the drill.  I must be lacking some critical understanding of the whole spiel because they don't seem tired of these dry rituals at all.  Actually, they seem rather... happy.  

Merry Christmas, glowing humans.  At least these silly things bring you some sort of warmth.  I'm sure it will be just the same next year.  See you then.  

Today I finished a book that will now be added to my list of most important books I have read.  There are two books on that list so far, both of which I have read in the last six months: Love Wins and The Chronicles of Narnia (which I think of as one book, though there are many, since the copy I own is one large book that contains the entire series).  The book that was added to the list the second I finished today is The Shack.  I am so thankful for storytellers like C.S. Lewis and William Paul Young who are using the gifts God has blessed them with to bless others. 

I have two main reasons for loving these stories, neither of which is the storytelling itself, though I do treasure the beauty of how each story is told.  My first reason is that these stories bring me freedom.  They free my mind from trying to understand all the mysteries of God on its own.  They make big ideas, such as heaven, forgiveness, and the trinity, more accessible to my scope of understanding.  The stories, while making big concepts simpler and easier for me to understand, also bring color and life to such concepts.  This is part of what I mean by helping me to understand.  Stories make concepts tangible, and in a way they give me experiences to draw on.  Even though those experiences belong to the characters within the story, I am invited to share in them.  The second reason is that they enrich my relationship with God.  Any story about how God is interacting with others grows my love for Him, and The Shack is no different.  In fact, The Shack has especially grown my love for God. 

If you haven’t yet, please read The Shack.  Any question I can think of that I have heard asked of God is answered in this beautiful story.  In this book, God teaches about forgiveness and healing, answers the main characters questions about why there are mosquitoes, and helps solve the problem of pain.  Here are some of my favorite quotes, including the ones I have posted on Facebook over the last few days:

“Life takes a bit of time and a lot of relationship.”

“So many believe that it is love that grows, but it is the knowing that grows and love simply expands to contain it.  Love is just the skin of knowing.”

“Relationships are never about power, and one way to avoid the will to power is to choose to limit oneself – to serve.”

“Do you realize that your imagination of the future, which is usually dictated by fear of some kind, rarely, if ever, pictures me there with you?”

“Darkness hides the true size of fears and lies and regrets.  The truth is they are more shadow than reality so they seem bigger in the dark.”

“Pearls.  The only precious stone made by pain, suffering, and death.”

“Grace doesn’t depend on suffering to exist, but where there is suffering you will find grace in many facets and colors.”

“Oh, child.  Don’t ever discount the wonder of your tears.  They can be healing waters and a stream of joy.  Sometimes they are the best words the heart can speak.”

And, my favorite, “If anything matters then everything matters.  Because you are important, everything you do is important.  Every time you forgive, the universe changes; every time you reach out and touch a heart of a life, the world changes; with every kind service, seen or unseen, my purposes are accomplished and nothing will ever be the same again.”

What books are you thankful were written?  Which are in part responsible for your current relationship with God?  Which have set you free?  Which have changed your way of thinking? 

Do yourself a favor, and add the Shack to your list.

This Week the Trend

There is a finite amount of words that rhyme with trend, so we're going to have to do a bit of rearranging.

The trend this week
Was to give up on my self-critique,
To find myself smiling from cheek to cheek
and realize that the future isn't quite so bleak

The trend this week
Was to give my poor attitude a major tweak
More free time and some optimism helped me see
That content is the thing I always wanna be

So I had a good week this week.  I still found myself frustrated at some things, but I had a different fix rather than staying frustrated.  I took advantage of introvert time and really took advantage of my ability to sleep in this week and relax a bunch.  Because classes ended last Wednesday, I admit that it was very easy to feel content this week.  I had fewer responsibilities and more time to do the things I actually enjoy.  Vacation from school usually makes me wish that every week was like this rather than enjoying this time for what it is: a temporary break.  In other words, I hope this time of easy contentment is a warm up for my contentment muscles.  I hope I can strengthen them to prepare for when it's more difficult to feel content.

Last week, my life was out of control in the bad way: neither God or I had control.  There is also a bad way to feel in control: feeling like you can handle things on your own.  This week, though, I think I found the balance.  Mainly since I had a lot fewer things on my to-do lists this week, I felt like I could handle my life for the first time in a while.  But whether I can handle it or not, the balance is that I still want God to help me handle it.  That's where I think contentment is.  Whether I think I can do life on my own or not, whether I am happy about the way my day to day is going or not, I want God in the middle of it.  And when He is, there is nothing to fear, nothing to worry about, nothing to not be joyful about.

The Order of Identity

I recently read a blog post in which the writer said she had always promised herself that she would be human first, female second, and Christian third.  I liked that at first, especially the part about being a human first and a woman second, but the more I thought about it the more I wondered if that was the order I would put things in.  Are we supposed to be Christians first?  Or is the only reason that we can be Christians is because Christ redeemed our humanness?  God made humans first, gender second, and Christians last, so is that God's order of identity?  I guess that is the order chronologically, but what about the order by priority?  Should I be a Christian first or a human first?  When I phrase it that way, I think of the Christians who remind me of Jesus robots.  The regulation Christians who follow rules to the letter and expect everyone else (even sometimes those who don't even claim Christianity) to live up to that same standard.  I try my darnedest to make sure that my identity is based on the fact that Jesus Christ saved my life and redeemed my soul, that it is the foundation I stand on, that it is the place out of which I want the rest of my life to flow.  Even so, I think it may be true that I am a human first.

I am wondering out loud.  Well, not really out loud, but you know what I mean.  I am wondering in type.  Wonder with me, if you will.  What do you think?  Should we live as if we are humans first, man or woman second, and follows of Christ third?  How would you say the order goes and why?

This Week the Trend

I'm instituting a segment.  Blogs should have segments, I think.  This one will run every Sunday, and I'm naming it after one of my favorite songs.  You can even sing it to the same tune and peek into my life besides.  The goal is to name my trends each week so if they're negative they don't become the trends of the whole month and if they're positive they become permanent.  Remember that lyrics tend to be more dramatic than real life.  I have poetic license to overreact when set to music.

This week the trend
Made perfection the priority yet again
I beat myself up for not reaching all the bars I set
And gave up on the rest of them

This week the trend
Wasn't to handle things but rather simply to pretend
Got too lazy to put any of the hard work in
All the while hoping things work out in the end

Had to borrow that last line.  Fit too well, both to the rhyme and to reality, not to use.  The original song is pretty negative, but I promise my weekly trends will sometimes be positive.  I forgot this week that the trends of my life are mostly in my hands.  Don't forget that you write your trends, too.  Other people have influence, but you hold the pen.

It is unfortunate that kids long to be grown-ups and grown-ups wish they were still young.  In eight days, I turn 21.  I was super excited about my birthday until I realized a couple of different things it means.  The main thing: I am a grown up.

I need a new primary care physician because I am still going to my pediatrician.
The one time a year I do get to be a kid is now the time of year I worry most about money.  I love buying gifts for loved ones, but I feel like I should have been saving for Christmas all year, or at least since Halloween.
Childhood traditions that feel like going home for my soul are too juvenile for me now.
I have places to be always, responsibilities that take daily effort, decisions to make.
I have to schedule my own appointments, make things happen for myself, get things done or they won't get done.
My to-do list has items added much more often than crossed off.
Money is no longer this magical thing without meaning that Mommy gives me.  It is the background worry, the dark cloud overhead.
Free time doesn't come free anymore.  It is time I have to choose to turn everything else off.  I don't get free time when everything else is done because I feel like from here on out everything else will never be done.
Difficult decisions come around more often and have a harsher impact on my life.

Next Tuesday, even though I may still, every now and then, make childish decisions or have a toddler/teenager attitude (they are remarkably similar, aren't they?), I will have completed the transition between child and adult.  This makes me think of the time Jesus demands child-like faith from his disciples in Matthew 18.

 ¹ At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?”

 ² He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. ³ And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. ⁴ Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. ⁵ And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.

It is easy to have faith like a child when in many ways we are still children.  I have put immense faith in my parents to take care of me, much of the time without giving it a second thought.  I believe what trustworthy sources tell me about how the world works without having to prove it true on my own accord.  When things go wrong, I want to run to my daddy's arms because his presence in the situation already makes me feel better about it.  

Adults don't do those things.  I look at my list above about adult things that are stressing me out today.  No wonder it is harder for adults to be filled with child-like faith.  But even though today I hate the idea of being an actual adult, it makes me less stressed thinking that I still get to be a spiritual child.  I can look at that list and have faith that God will take care of me through these shifts in life.  God will not change even if everything else does.  I can believe what He says about how the world works.  I can believe that I am who He says I am.  I can run to His arms and cling to the fact that He is present.  I can rest in His peace, knowing that His love remains.  I can lean on Him for strength when the responsibilities weigh heavy and the lists are long and the decisions are difficult.  

God, you are my strength and my song, and in my life I want to dance to that song like a child who doesn't care how many other children or adults are watching.  Replace my worry with peace and my stress with joy.  Help me find the balance between having to be an adult and getting to rest in you like a child.  

Family Fun

The holidays are the stereotypical stressor for families, each family with their own unique problems.  This year, I am faced with the wonderful dilemma of merging families, and that's not sarcastic.  I really think it is a wonderful problem to have.  Because I love somebody, I get to start thinking about what it means to be a part of his family and what it means for him to be a part of mine.  I am also gaining a lot of insight about family and about conflict in general, which is not to say that I have been acting or feeling like I am conducting a case study but simply that I have been realizing how easily one can pick up on subtle details when watching a family that is not their own.  A family is something that seems static to everyone on the inside.  Family is the first community one typically knows and the one that is usually, for the first bit of life, difficult to escape from.  Our families, however quirky or embarrassing or unhealthy, are the groups to which we didn't have a choice but to belong.  Within our families are the things we have just become used to, the things we have always known.

If there is one piece of advice I would wish to give to every family, it is that you are not a random group of people doomed to spend your days attempting to deal with each other.  You are a team.  Fight for each other.  Make the relationships between you and the other members of your family a high priority.  Reconcile after conflict.  Vocalize things you appreciate about each other.  Some families are big enough to make up a baseball team, others a volleyball team, some only a tennis team.  The Duggars could have their own football team!  But think about those teams.  How effective would a sports team be if they undermined each other, criticized each other, rolled their eyes at every direction from the coach?  Would a winning team be full of players who individually want to come across as the star, the MVP?  Would a winning team ever be ashamed, off the field, to be players on that team?

Players on a team:

• look out for one another
• share the number one goal of winning together
• set aside their personal interests for the good of the team
• discuss strategies
• go over plays
• spend time together
• become more than just teammates

Family is a subset of what is, in my mind, one of the most important things: community.  I also believe that family can be the most difficult community to fight for.  Since family is the sole group we belong for so long, the people we can't escape when we're young, the place we are forced to spend most of our time for the first chunk of our lives, family is also the place where we are hurt first and worst.  

I hurt for hurting families.  I hurt in my family sometimes.  I hurt for families all over who act as if they are on opposing teams.  

But I also think that learning to love one's family is sometimes more Christ-like than loving a stranger.  Outside of my family, I can avoid difficult people.  Outside of my family, people are friends if I want them to be.  However, for some families, Love your enemies means love those people across the dinner table from you.  Love those people who sleep in the next room.  Love those people who come to town for the holidays.  We get a choice to love the people in the friend category, but we were never given a choice about those in the family category.  

So, who knows for what reason, you were put on a certain team and called a family.  How can you be like Jesus to those people?  How can you begin to restore community in your family?  How can you make family mean more than stressful holidays?  

Happy holidays.  Play ball!

Terrors

Every once in a while, I'm reminded of how ugly this world really is.

A man in one of my psych classes, Paul, is a father to four children him and his partner adopted.  All four came from some severely unfortunate situations and have the mental, emotional, and physical scars to prove it.  One of his sons was born addicted to 12 different drugs.  He talks about his children in class, and I like listening to how proud he is of them.  It is easy for him to love and care for them even though their short lives have been horrible enough to make each of them a little rough around the edges.  Hearing their plights breaks my heart, but hearing how well he cares for these kids usually mends it.  I am happy he volunteered to be a daddy to these children who greatly needed one.  I am happy there are people in the world who stand up and take on responsibilities like that.  I am impressed by him.

Yesterday, though, one of his stories weighed heavy on my soul.  Is this really the world we are living in?  He was telling a couple people before class about his daughter who was raped when she was only 3 years old.

3 years old.

She was raped by her father, and she needed almost 40 stitches to repair the physical damage done to her small body.

Her 3 year old soul needed a way to deal with this tragedy, so it tried to split in two (and later three) so one piece could take care of the other.  She developed dissociative identity disorder, which allowed her to "be" an assertive man in times of stress and anxiety and a caring woman in times of emotional hardship.  With much therapy, Paul says that they have made her feel secure enough in her new environment and dealt with enough of her emotional baggage that they have gotten her back down to just one personality.

After overhearing Paul talk about the tragedies his young children have already been exposed to, we had a guest speaker in class, a veteran and founder of the U of A Vets office.  He was in class to talk about the various things that plague military families and how the structures of family and marriage tend to function inside the military.  One statistic that stuck out to me from his talk was that we have lost more service members during the Iraq and Afghanistan wars from suicide than from actual combat.

With the technology we have available, men and women can be wounded overseas and then flown to Bethesda for treatment before they regain consciousness.  Thankfully, we are losing fewer and fewer soldiers who are being injured during combat.  There is a student at the U of A who is a triple amputee.  He surely would have died had he been fighting in any other war throughout history.

But our brave men and women are also coming home with emotional injuries that are being ignored and eventually can be fatal.  These emotional fatalities are just as serious and I think just as preventable as those from physical injury.

Needless to say, by the end of class my mind was reeling with how upside down this world is.  My soul was heavy from the troubles in this life.

May I live to fight the terrors.

Day 18

Learned an important lesson this morning: the later I go to sleep, the harder it is to wake up the next day at 6.  

Who knew?

I don't know what happened this morning - I don't remember hearing my alarm at all, even though I know it was set to go off.  I woke up to silence at 7 and skipped the gym again.  Oh well.  I'll go tomorrow :)  

Gains and Losses

Today was technically day 17.  I can't tell you exactly how many days I made it to the gym and how many days I chose the extra hour of sleep over discipline of healthy habits... I can tell you, though, that I feel happier and healthier for even succeeding some of the time.

First of all, I don't feel like a failure when I don't wake up.  Today, I was mad that I missed my favorite Zumba teacher doing the 6am class at my gym because I snoozed my alarm.  I gave myself a minor scolding when I woke up 45 minutes later at 6:30... But even getting out of bed at 6:30 is an improvement.  I had time to sit down at the table for breakfast, read a chapter of my book, finish some homework, and make my lunch.

Second of all, I feel in a better place for just having been at the gym at least 3 times a week for the last two weeks.  My gym isn't calling me anymore making sure I'm okay.  I feel physically healthier.  I feel emotionally healthier.  I feel more comfortable in my body because I am working to take care of it.  I feel like I am fitting into my clothes better.  I bought size 9 jeans for the first time since my freshman year in high school.  And I know that no one else probably notices yet, and it very well might be all in my head, but I am happier with what I see when I look in the mirror.

So, in the past 17 days, I have found sure victory some of the time, but what's even better is that I have not found defeat the rest of the time.

I was at a retreat a couple of years ago during which a life coach taught us about life goals.  One of the central beliefs to his line of work was that it is always better to have goals than to not.  I disagreed with him then, and I disagree with him now.  Simply having goals always made me feel discouraged.  I made New Year's Resolutions that I gave up on long before February.  I set goals for each new semester in college... but they always happened to be the same goals every semester since I continually failed to accomplish them.  I set daily goals of eating better and making it to the gym and then felt terrible about myself at the end of the day when instead of going to the gym, I got the large meal at Chick-fil-A.

No, just having goals doesn't leave me better off.  Working towards goals is always better than not.  Any size step toward that goal is valuable.  The days that I don't wake up in time to work out, I still manage to get out of bed at a decent time and not force myself to rush out the door.  When I hit snooze one day, I don't give up the next.  I keep walking in the direction of health.

Every once in a while I have to compare what I say my priorities are to the way that I am actually living and make sure there is a good amount of overlap.  I did this over the summer with my money.  I would say my financial priorities are giving and saving, in that order, but no one would believe that looking at my bank statements.  According to reality, my priorities seemed to be Chick-fil-A and Target, in that order.

Last week when I looked at my priorities vs. my daily life, I saw definite changes that needed to be made and so began my 21-day journey to waking up on time, working out everyday, practicing disciplines, and packing my lunch.

Today when I looked at my priorities vs. my daily life, I saw minor tweaks that needed to be made to my actions but major problems with my priorities.

I discovered an unhealthy priority and self expectation today: perfection. I was thinking about the person I want to be and about how far I feel from that person.  Somehow the healthy priorities in my head morphed into these monsters.  I will give some examples.

• I want to make better decisions became I want to not make mistakes
• I want to get better grades became I want 100% in every class
• I want to manage my time better became I want more time
• I want to be better became I want to be perfect

These thoughts on the right are so disabling.  When my goals of becoming healthy became goals of being perfect, a nasty grey cloud of discouragement formed over my head.  It is even more than a desire to just give up.  It's an odd feeling, but I just don't feel like being.  I'm really not in the mood for existence.  It is more than wanting to give up on my goals; I want to give up on myself.  

I know these thoughts are straight from the Enemy's tongue, but I can't find the energy to fight them.  Earlier this year, I conquered the lie that I wasn't good enough.  Thankfully, with the help of God and loved ones, I have learned how to continually stand firm on the truth that I have worth.  I am valuable.  I am enough.  

But the Liar hasn't given up on me yet, and I think his fight this time is trying to change my view of "enough".  I am having a hard time today feeling like I am enough, but not because the lie "You are not enough" has once again taken over my heart.  There is a new lie, "Perfect is enough".  

Today, I want to be the girl who never falls.  I want to be the girl who never misses a homework assignment, never gets a C on a test, always speaks up in class with all the correct answers.  I want to be the girl who makes good decisions without fail, never regrets, never makes anyone else upset, never accidentally leaves the important things at home (or my water bottle who knows where).  I want my house to be sparkly clean everyday and my laundry to always be done and put away.  I want to have  enough money and enough time and stop feeling like I am always stretched thin in those areas.  I want to stop wanting, I want to stop needing, I want to be perfect.  

And since I can't, I want to go away.  

These are by far the most unhealthy thoughts I have ever had, but knowing that doesn't make me feel less crippled against them.  This is the first step: giving them a name, calling them out.  That's why I am writing them down.  The next step is kicking them out of the house of my heart, making damn sure they know they are not welcome here.  I have not been able to make that step today since rather than continuing the remodel on my heart house, I feel like just moving out.  The concurrent step to kicking the unhealthy roommates out of my house is inviting healthy ones to move in.  I will let Jesus be the perfect one.  I will tell him that trying to be perfect or even trying to be good enough is too much work for me.  I will remind myself that he has already carried my burden of being good enough on the cross.  He has told me that I don't have to try to be good enough since because of him I simply am.  He doesn't see perfect when he looks at me (which means he doesn't expect it) but doesn't see broken or hopeless or weak or useless either.  Also, I will listen to this song on repeat.  

Matthew 11:28-30

 ²⁸ “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. ²⁹ Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. ³⁰ For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  

God, your burden is not perfection.  Break the unreasonable expectations I have for myself today.  Fight for me, because I feel like I can't.  Reclaim ownership of my house and kick all the squatters to the curb.  Repair all the windows they broke to get in, and replace all the locks.  

I am Yours.

You make everything glorious.. what does that make me?  

I think today is the 5th day that I have run through my routine and the third day I have done it in the morning.  It was easier today.  I didn't want to get out of bed, but it was easier to do so than to not.  I think the steps have already sunk into my subconscious.  Once I'm out of bed, I'm on autopilot.

I am relearning a lesson I learned at the beginning of this year that decisions are like dominoes.  Healthy decisions lead to more healthy decisions just like poor decisions lead to more of the same, even in small things. My dominoes are falling in a healthy direction, and I like the feel of it.  Getting up earlier leaves me time to make my lunch which is healthier and more costly.  It also makes me more tired by the time evening rolls around, which means I am getting more sleep and it is easier to fall asleep.  I feel like I am getting better sleep, too.  And exercising my will with this discipline helps me to make better decisions in other areas.  I am not spending as much money.  I am saying no to more things that aren't beneficial.  I like that life is built in a way that turns small choices into lifestyle changes.

Content with being content... At least for now.

I have been thinking about contentment a lot this morning.  It is much easier to be content with my body when I am working out every morning.  More than some girls and less than others, I have struggled with body image and being content in my skin.  Today, though, was a minor breakthrough, I think.

First of all, it makes me sad that the more I think about it, the more it makes sense to me that the women's clothing industry is built on the discontentment of women.  Men's sizes, even to men, I think give the impression that one's size is just their size.  A man is this tall, this big around, etc., and that's just how it is.  That's just how he is.  I could be wrong, and I know that it is far from impossible for men to compare themselves to others based on their measurements, but women's sizes are much more easily comparable to others.  For example, the "ideal" size for women is far from the average size of actual women.  Models we see the clothes on wear size 0, size 2, extra small, etc.  Women put way too much emphasis, even just in our own heads, on these numbers and labels.  New York and Co., for example, capitalizes on the weight women put on this arbitrary sizing system.  If a woman is normally a size 8, in NY&Co. clothes she is a size 6.  And that feeling of fitting into even one size smaller is so great that women are more inclined to shop there only because of that boost of self confidence.  If I were taking a survey of women and asking them what size they wish they wore, my guess would be that most women would say a size 2.  Few would say they are content with the size they currently wear.  All would say a size lower than they wear.  In fact, if I took a survey of women and asked what their dress size is, I would guess that half would tell me they wear at least one size lower than they actually do.  Why does this matter to us so much?

My breakthrough came when I was thinking about my goals this morning.  Before giving it too much thought, I said to myself, Wouldn't it be nice to wear a size 2.  I had to shake that thought out of my head and remind myself that I would probably look grotesquely skinny and be unhealthy if I shrunk down to that size.  It is just not in the stars for me to be that skinny.  And the amazing part is that I didn't feel defeated by realizing that I will never make it to a 2.  I didn't feel depressed.  I felt content.  When I said in my head, Actually, my  body was just not built to wear size 2 pants, it felt like something I already knew.  I felt myself saying, Duh.

I have a friend who, since I have known her, has only gotten skinnier.  I think when I met her, she wore a size 4 or a size 6, depending on what store she was shopping in.  Now she wears a size 0, and if they someday come up with negative numbers, she will probably fit into those.  Until today, there have been times when I have badly wanted to have a similar body type.  I have wanted to look like her.  Today, the fact that I have thought that makes me want to cry.  It makes me sad for the time I lost not loving myself, not being content.

This is a picture of my skinny friend's dad on the left... and this is a picture of my dad on the right.  Both of these men are wonderful, godly men with great families and in great physical shape.  But it is easy to see that my genes are built much differently.  Her dad is probably at least six inches shorter than mine and obviously much skinnier.  This is not something I can change, no matter how well I eat or how much I work out.

I am so thankful for this realization.  I already knew these things in my head, but today they became real to me.  I felt contentment in my heart.  This is one area that my new morning routine is helping me (another success this morning, by the way).  No matter how much I try, I will never be anyone but me.  I can change almost every little thing about me nowadays, from my name to my hair color to my facial structure to my bra size, etc.  But my soul is my soul is my soul, and I am who I am who I am.  (I am going crazy trying to remember where I read this quote, but I love it: "We are image bearers of the One who says, 'I am who I am.'")  I will always be me deep down.  My goals cannot be unattainable things like a size 2.

My ultimate goal is to be a better version of myself at the end of each day, a lesson I learned on a first date ;)  And this routine helps me feel that way.  I do feel healthier at the end of the day than when I started. I feel like I made improvements, both on myself and on the world, as little as they may be.  I feel like I accomplished things.  I feel like I woke up for a reason.

And that's something I wouldn't trade for a size 2 pair of pants.

I think I can, I think I can

I guess this was technically Day 1 of completing my routine in the morning.  I would consider it a success.  I set my alarm for 5:45 today since there is a 6am Zumba class at my gym on Wednesdays and Fridays.  The only bad part of my morning was the Zumba instructor.  The one who teaches the Wednesday morning class has absolutely no rhythm and makes terrible routines.  However, it was easier to wake up for a class than to wake up trying to go work out on my own.  We'll see how an unstructured workout goes tomorrow.  Also, I think for at least a while, the quality of the workout matters less than forming the discipline of actually getting to the gym and doing something, anything.

I am reminding myself of all the time I had this morning (and counting that as one of my rewards, Sarah).  I got a lot done, and it was stress-free.  I curled my hair, finished some homework, did the dishes.  It was also nice waking up in time to welcome the day and see the sunrise.  On the other hand, I am thinking waking up so early is going to make my days feel a lot longer. 

I had a short battle this morning with the voice that beckons me to stay in bed.  The voice doesn't take no for an answer so instead of retorting, No, no, no.  Don't get back in bed.  Don't do it, since I'm pretty sure with that mantra I would end up right back in bed, I chanted to myself, Just keep moving.  Bathroom, gym clothes, car.  Bathroom, gym clothes, car.  Just keep moving.  I think getting out the door the first time will be my toughest fight.  

This reminded me of one of my favorite analogies, first explained to me by one of my favorite people.  A car on a hill will only go forward if it is purposefully moving forward.  A car in neutral will slide back down the hill just as easy as a car in reverse.  For a lot of things in life, it doesn't matter that we are simply pointed in the right direction.  Our actions are much more important than our intentions.  If I just keep moving, no matter how slowly, I will get up the hill.  

Day one step forward, Day two steps back

Grr.

My alarm went off this morning at 6am.  I was mad that morning came so early and that it was still dark outside and in my house, but I had the reaction to my alarm that I wanted: I got right out of bed, turned off the alarm, took a deep breath, and stretched.  It took all the will power I could muster not to climb back into bed.

I forgot two important details when planning my morning routine that didn't come up in the practice run yesterday.  First, I usually have to use the bathroom first thing when I wake up.  Should have thought of that.  Second, my mom would be proud, I forgot to write in brushing my teeth.  So I amended my routine, went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and came back into my room for the next step.  Working out, though, is I think the very last thing I am excited to do while still half asleep at 6:00 in the morning.  So, instead of putting my work out clothes on and driving to the gym, I climbed back into bed.

I set my phone alarm for 7:30, snoozed it four times, and finally got up at 8.  Maybe I will get it tomorrow.

I was reminding myself this morning that getting back into bed is more than getting back into bed.  It's taking two steps back on my goal setting.  It's making tomorrow even harder.  It's making day 21 further away.  But grumpy just-let-me-sleep Katelyn is much stronger than strong-willed let's-be-a-better-person Katelyn.  Nothing seems to matter more in the morning than staying tucked between my covers for as long as possible.

I am still trying to keep the bigger picture in mind, though.  Starting my day like it means something and not like I just have to get out of bed because another day came sooner than I would have liked gives purpose to each day and ultimately my life.  Like the header says, I want to be intentional about my existence, and I think that includes waking up for the day.  I want to wake up as if I have important things to wake up for.  I want to wake up as if I can't wait for today to start because God has made it and has great plans for me today.  I want to wake up as if I am anticipating so many opportunities.  So I need to remind myself that sleeping in that extra hour or two means missing opportunities, missing out on being a part of something, missing out on a purposeful day.

Hoping tomorrow I will be less willing to trade all that in for a tiny bit more sleep.

Day One

I could not wake up this morning.  In fact, I have trouble getting out of bed most mornings.  I was so frustrated with myself today that I googled "how to get up when your alarm goes off" and found some good advice.  So, I took it.  Thus begins day one of the 21 day journey to being a happier, healthier human being.

I also remembered something that Jonalyn once wrote - I don't remember exactly where.  It was about will power, or what she simply called the will.  She was talking about the elements of the soul, if I remember correctly, and said one thing that has stuck with me since.  I am not going to get the words verbatim, but I think this captures the sentiment.  Every action we take strengthens our will in that direction.  In the context of forming healthy habits, every decision, every action, is the first step toward forming a habit out of that action.  The more I repeat the action, the stronger the inclination will be for me to repeat it once more until one day I wonder how I can snooze the alarm 17 times and still not get out of bed or have weeks where I tell myself my sleep is more important so I don't shower for three days in a row.  How am I not disgusted enough with myself to refuse to continue to live in this pattern?  How have I let it go on this long without bothering to strengthen my will in a different direction, towards different actions?

Well, it ends here.

Steve Pavlina's suggestion that I found this morning seems simple in words and no doubt more difficult in reality.  Practice.  Do your routine over and over again exactly the same until it is no longer a conscious decision but a habit.  So that's what I'm setting out to do.  After reading that this morning, I decided I should start now.  After my morning classes I came home and declared this Day One of forming better morning habits.  I started with my going to bed routine, so at 11:50 today I removed my makeup, washed my face, brushed my teeth, set my alarm (for noon), and hopped in bed.  I "slept" for about four minutes and when my alarm went off I hopped right back out of bed, turned it off, took a deep breath, stretched, yawned (gotta add in every detail, right?), and got my gym clothes on.  All the while, when I am looking at the clock, I am translating into what time it would be.  At this point, it was "6:05" and I got to the gym around "6:10".  Worked out until "7:00" and headed home where I showered, did my hair (I don't usually do my hair in the morning; if I shower in the morning my former routine was to let my hair air dry) and makeup (which I usually end up doing at red lights...), put in my contacts (which usually don't have time to wear), got dressed, packed my lunch for the day, ate some breakfast (mac and cheese today since in reality it was 1:45 in the afternoon), and got my things ready to go.  I need to leave the house by 8:15 most mornings, and according to my mental morning clock it was only "8:00".

I plan to do exactly the same thing tomorrow, only it will actually be morning.  Onward to Day Two.

Even before I realized it was a choice, I chose to see the good in people. Letting the good in them outweigh the bad led me to give more grace than deserved at times and to make a couple of mistakes that I might have otherwise avoided. 

But I don't think I would trade in this trait. I would rather see the good in people than the bad. I would rather trust, believe, love. I don't ignore the bad or pretend the world is a happy place when it's obviously not. That's the state of mind my friend Derek affectionately calls Mamby Pamby Land. No, the world is a harsh, broken place. We can be realistic about that. But why not also be realistic about the possibly that there is some good under all this mess? Why not seek it out like precious gems or hidden treasure? Why not fight to believe in the good?

I am going to stick with the assumption, no matter how cooshy it sounds, that there is good in all of us.

Skittles and my Soul

I had a teacher in elementary school who gave us two skittles once a week. "One for your head and one for your heart," she'd say. I think this was the first time I learned the lesson, "Your soul is what matters."  

I think about this lesson when I eat Skittles.  I remember this wonderful teacher who taught me that a triangle is the strongest shape and that being smart makes me a wonderful person, not a nerd.  When I dwell on her memory, I appreciate  that she didn't have to tell me what was important.  She showed me by her actions.  She let me figure things out.  She never sat us down and said, "The reason I give you Skittles is not to reward you for having a head and for having a heart.  None of you had control over that.  The reason I give you Skittles is to make you realize and remember that I don't reward you for what you do in this class but for who you are.  I give you Skittles as a silly way to show you what I think matters and what I think you should think matters."  But without ever saying much, this is the lesson she taught us.  

I asked her a couple of times why she gave us two Skittles every week.  She repeated, "One for your head, one for your heart."  I wasn't satisfied with that answer; I asked again.  "But whyyyyy?"  When all she gave me was a smile, I just sighed as I left the room.  Years later, walking around campus eating a handful of Skittles, I finally realized what she was teaching us.  Your soul is what matters.  And how sweet a truth it is in my mind :)  

This is the most important thing.  Not what you do, but who you are.  Your mind and your heart, the you deep down.  The you that most of the world doesn't get to know.  

You not only have a soul, it is the very essence of you.  You are a soul.  The state and character of our souls is what needs to be cultivated, exercised, and valued.  


Train yourself to be godly.  For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.

Ouch.

I love sleep, but I hate that we need it.  One of the most intelligent people I know once tried to convince me that since we spend so much of our time asleep, it must have a specific and important purpose.  I have been thinking a lot about pain recently, and I wonder if similar logic applies.

Pain is a significant part of the human experience, and everyone seems to find themselves in it at one point or another.  Does this mean there is a purpose for pain?  I would assume we would like to think that the answer is no. 

When I experience pain, I usually wish that it would end as quickly as possible.  Pain is unfortunate and uncomfortable, yet we find ourselves and those around us in pain time and time again.  I can’t help but think there’s a reason for it.

The dawn is beautiful because it chases away the night.  Rain is a godsend in the desert I call home, where the sun shines over 350 days, the heat is relentless, and the summer lasts from April to October.  The opposite is true in Seattle, when the miracle is the moment when the rain stops and the city experiences sunlight.  A moment of laughter in the middle of a sad movie is a gift for the soul, and finally shedding tears after days, months, or years of holding them in is a sweet, sweet release. 

My point is, these things would at most not exist and at least not be as beautiful or meaningful without their opposites.  My fellow desert rats and I rejoice for rain and cool weather, but we would not have the same reaction without knowing all too well the dry, oppressive heat that reigns for most of the year.  What if the same is true with pain?  Would we know relief without it?  Would healing be as sweet? 

Pain in my life has been a refining fire and has made up the most critical chapters of my story thus far.  I have learned lessons that I wouldn’t trade in for less pain.  I have made and strengthened friendships over pain.  I have become relatable to others because of my pain.  I have been able to help others through their pain.  I have found healing and felt loved and been embraced and grown stronger because of my pain. 

I hate that there is pain in this world, but I love that even after the darkest night, dawn comes in the morning.  Even after the coldest winter (somewhere far from where I live), beauty and warmth emerges with the spring.  Even after the toughest of hardships, three things remain: faith, hope, and love.

And the greatest of these is love.

Stay tuned for my thoughts on handling pain, because the important thing about pain is what we do with it.  The beauty is in the healing, not the pain, but that doesn’t mean the pain is without purpose.  

Blessed are those who mourn,
   for they will be comforted. 


                            Matthew 5:4

"To know what would have happened, child? No. Nobody is ever told that. But anyone can find out what will happen.”

I received this email from one of my friends who received it from her boss.  I have heard this argument before, and I don't agree with it.  We can't live our life or argue our viewpoints based on what might or might not have happened.  


How many Steve Jobs have been aborted over the last 30 years?  :(  

Just a little background on Steve Jobs. Something you may not know about his life and about a woman named Joanne Schiebel. In 1954, Joanne was a young unmarried college student who discovered that she was pregnant. In the 1950s, her options were limited. She could have had an abortion – but the procedure was both dangerous and illegal. She could have gotten married, but she wasn’t ready and didn’t want to interrupt her education. Joanne opted, instead, to give birth to the baby and place that baby for adoption.

And so it was that in 1955, a California couple named Paul and Clara Jobs adopted a baby boy, born out of wedlock, that they named Steven.

We know him today…as Steve Jobs.

It would not be overstating things to say that Steve Jobs is my generation’s Thomas Edison. As one observer put it, he knew what the world wanted before the world knew that it wanted it.

If you have a computer or an iPhone or an iPad or an iPod, or anything remotely resembling them, you can thank Steve Jobs.

If your world has been transformed by the ability to digitally hear a symphony, send a letter, pay a bill, deposit a check, read a book and then buy theater tickets on something smaller than a cigarette case…you can thank Steve Jobs.

And: you can thank Joanne Schiebel.

If you want to know how much one life can matter, there is just one example.

But: imagine if that life had never happened.

Imagine if an unmarried pregnant college student 56 years ago had made a different choice.

Now, imagine all the unmarried pregnant college students who make that different choice today.

There are valid pro-life arguments, but I don't think this is one of them.  A newly born human life is just that. It should be protected because it is a human life.  New parents enjoy dreaming of all the things their children will grow into, but in reality they have no idea.  Sure, that child could someday become "the next Steve Jobs" or "the next Mother Theresa"... but they are human and therefore also have the potential to become "the next Adolf Hitler" or "the next Eric Harris or Dylan Klebold."  And if we had technology to know better which side of morality that child would end up living his/her life on, it would still be wrong to abort the pregnancy since every human life is redeemable.  The thing about arguing that one should not abort a pregnancy in case that child is destined to do wonderful things is that there is a flipside: one should abort a pregnancy lest that child grow up to do terrible things.  

Each human soul brings both more brokenness AND more hope into the world.  We are the great contradiction.  

One of the great beauties of creating human life is that parents are creating a being who also has the ability to create - life, art, sadness, hope, confusion, chaos, friendship, love, their own story.  That is why creating human life is also one of the greatest risks in life.  

We should not be against ending a human life for what it might have been but for what it already is.

Adapted from a talk I gave to middle school students

I want to share with you the BEST thing I have figured out so far in my life.  Figuring this thing out has changed everything, from the way that I think to the way that I feel to the way that I interact with my friends…  It has changed literally every single thing in my life.  

I have found my identity.  God built into me a specific identity, and He has told me who I am.  

By far my favorite Disney princess movie is Tangled.  A girl is trapped in a tower because of an evil woman who kidnapped her and has lied to her throughout her entire life, but she eventually escapes the tower and realizes that she is actually a princess.  The part where she realizes who she is is my favorite scene of the whole movie (even better than the floating lanterns!).  

The way I see it, there are two basic things that happen once she puts it all together and realizes she’s a princess.  First, Gothel, the evil woman, has no more power over her.  This is very different from the beginning of the movie when she couldn’t stand up for herself and lost every argument.  But now, just because she knows that everything she has been told her entire life has been a lie, she has power.  This relates to us, as Christians.  Once we realize our identity in Christ, we have power over the lies we have been told by the Enemy.  But more about that later.  The second thing that happens is that she realizes her purpose in life, and everything makes sense now.  There is no more confusion, no more feeling out of place.  She knows where she needs to be – in the kingdom – and what she needs to do – serve her people as their princess.  This is what happens in our life, too, when we embrace our identity. 

The metaphorical towers of life are a part of everyone's story, so let me tell you about the times in my life when I live trapped in a tower, believing the lies that Satan and the world were telling me.  The lie that I believe most is that people don’t like me.  They don’t think I’m good enough, they don’t want to be around me, they like other people much better than me, and on and on.  So at times in my life when I believe these lies, I am depressed.  I don’t want to go anywhere because I think people don’t want me there.  I get really critical of myself and wish I was better at certain things.  I stand in a room full of people and think no one wants to talk to me or I sit at home alone waiting for someone to call me and ask me to hang out, and when no one does, I think it’s because, basically, I suck.  But when I fight the lies and choose instead to believe that I am the person that God says I am, my life is much better.  I enjoy spending time with people, I am much happier, I feel good about the things I’m doing… I feel good about myself.  Easiest “Would You Rather” ever: Would you rather feel lonely and depressed or loved and happy?  

I was raised to love Jesus and to follow Him with my life, but it took me a while to figure out how everything changes, who God says I am individually, and how it looks to live that out.

The day I started to figure these things out was April 6, 2011.  Ironically, exactly 14 years after the day I made the decision to give Jesus everything, follow Him, and be baptized.  I felt like God was definitely about to change big things in my life for the better.  I had just eaten breakfast with one of my mentors, and I was on my way to class.  While I was driving, I was thinking and praying about all the things she and I had just talked about: the fact that my identity is in Christ and that means I am worthy, that means I don’t suck.  I was running a little late and I heard something in my head say, You think you have everything figured out, and you can’t even get to class on time?  So I started speeding.  Then, I got pulled over for speeding.  The cop didn’t give me a ticket, just told me to slow down.  But when he drove away I stayed there on the side of the road sobbing because that voice in my head was getting louder.  You really think you aren’t a complete screw up?  You really think you don’t suck?  Hello, you just got pulled over.  Really, Katelyn?  And now you are going to be even later for class.  Also, everyone will look at you funny because your eyes are red and puffy and you look gross.  They’ll know you’ve been crying and they’ll think you’re weak or weird or stupid or too emotional.  You know what, you might as well not even go to class, it’s not like you’re going to do well in that class anyway!  Oh my gosh, are you still crying?  Wow… pathetic.

Needless to say, I was feeling pretty terrible about myself at that point, until I remembered that these were lies.  Then I got really mad!  This is where that power comes in because I was able to tell that voice to go away.  Or rather, I yelled at it and forced it to go away.  I told it that “I no longer live, but Christ lives in me and I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”  That means He thought I was worth it.  I told the voice that Jesus has given me “authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy” and that “nothing will harm me.”  I said, “That means you need to go away.”  Jesus says in John 14:14 that I can ask for anything in His name, and He will do it, so I said, “I command you, in the Name of Jesus, to leave me alone.  Stop lying to me, get out of my head.  I don’t believe anything you say about me.  I choose to believe that my identity is in Christ, not in whether I follow the rules or I get to places on time.  I am who God says I am and God says I am valuable.” 

Then I asked God to fight for me.  I admitted to Him that I couldn’t fight these lies alone, and that I needed His power.  I asked God to keep these lies out of my head and to protect me.  And He did.  2 Chronicles 32:8 says that we are only flesh but “with us is the LORD our God to help us and to fight our battles.”  I said, “God, you promised me in 2 Timothy 4:18 that you “will rescue me from every evil attack” so rescue me now.  I instantly stopped crying, took a deep breath, and was firm again in who God says I am.  To believe that we are who God says we are, we first need to stop believing that we are who Satan or the world or people at school or anyone else say we are.  We need to fight those lies and ask God to get them away from us and we need to ask for reminders of who He says we are.

He gives us those reminders in scripture as well.  First of all, we were made in the image of God, Genesis 1:26, and Romans 5:1 tells us that we have been made right with God through Christ and that we have peace with God.  Romans 8:1 says that there is no condemnation for us because we are in Christ.  According to 2 Corinthians 5:17, we are a new creation, which means our past does not define who we are anymore.  We are God’s temple (1 Corinthians 3:16), so we have direct access to God (Ephesians 2:18) and we are to live righteous and holy like God (Ephesians 4:24).  We have also been called friends of God, children of God, disciples of Christ, light in the darkness, pleasing to God.  Does this make anyone else feel pretty good about the person God says you are?  We don’t have to struggle with the lies anymore or feel crappy about ourselves anymore because God thinks pretty highly of us.  When someone at school makes fun of you or looks at you weird or is rude to you, your identity is still in Christ and you are valuable.  When a boyfriend or girlfriend breaks up with you, your identity is still in Christ and you are valuable.  When your basketball team loses or you get a bad grade on an assignment you worked really hard on or your friends are ignoring you or you’re breaking out or you made this terrible mistake that you wish you could take back... your identity is in Christ and you are valuable.  Those things are all unfortunate, and it’s okay to be upset about them to a certain extent, but they don’t change what God thinks of you and they don’t change what you should think of yourself. 

Ephesians 2:10 says For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.  We are God’s masterpieces, he created us and has told us who we are, and we know based on this verse that God created us for a specific purpose.  To do good.  Doing good is directly connected with our identity.  When I know that my identity is in Christ, I also know that your identity is in Christ and that Christians all over the world find their identity in Christ too.  That means that you are just as important as I am and that I need to do good and help you when you need it.  I need to love others just like I love myself because OUR identity is in Christ. 

Whether certain individuals have realized it yet or not, they are also God’s handiwork, created in Christ to do good.  So my friends who don't follow Jesus and people all over the world who don’t know God were created in His image too.  It’s my job to love them and share with them the truths that they were made in the image of God and their identity is in Christ.  

God has given us all a general purpose: love others and do good.  But he has given us specific purposes individually, too.  God gave us different gifts and different personalities, and He wants us to use them.  He says in 1 Corinthians 12 that we all have spiritual gifts and that together we make up the body of Christ.  Some were created to be arms and some are supposed to be toes, but we all have a purpose.  God made me a certain way so my job is to use that for His Kingdom, and God made you a certain way that is different from the way He made me.  But since He made us all in His image, that means when we are using our gifts and abilities for God, we are showing everyone around us a specific characteristic of the image of God.  I like details and organization.  My best friend is very different from me.  She likes having fun and being silly and can connect with people much better than I can.  But God created us differently that way on purpose.  God is organized and cares about the details, so when I use my organization skills for Him, I am being like God and showing the world a part of who God is.  God is also fun and adventurous and cares deeply for people so when my friend has fun and loves other people the way she does, she is showing them a different, but just as important characteristic of God.  What an awesome purpose that is for our lives to be ourselves in order to display the image of God!  So once we realize who God says we are as Christians, we need to embrace who God says we are as individuals and use those specific ways God created us to do good for His kingdom. 

Now, because of the way the enemy works, there are some who are thinking, most people are God’s handiwork, his masterpiece, created to do good works, but surely I am not that important.  Surely, there is nothing I can do or a specific purpose for me.  Well, I am telling you that is a lie that you need to fight.  Don’t listen to it!  Ask God to take it from you.  Believe instead that you have a specific purpose and use that purpose.  We are who God says we are and that gives us power and a purpose.  Declare this in your life, and live it like you mean it!  I am who God says I am and that gives me power and a purpose.  I am who God says I am and that gives me power and a purpose.  I am who God says I am and that gives me power and a purpose!  

Go live with power and purpose.  Go make follows of Christ look more like they were intended to look.  Go bring hope to the world - it's what God built you for!  

There is no F in University

The more I study the psychology of learning, the more I realize how much schooling has missed the mark.  I have yet to figure out why so little investment is made in the minds of students and why simple changes haven't been made to better the school system tenfold.  The main obstacle is cost, but I really think the benefits would outweigh the cost in time.  Not to mention the fact that I don't think these changes would be terribly costly and that fact that I currently pay for the education I'm receiving (and I pay significantly less than the average student attending a university).

The main problem I see is that the primary focus at the university level is no longer developing the minds of students and aiming to make true the statement higher education but rather simply earning money and prestige (and, of course, the prestige is only to make more money).

With the focus off of my learning, the University of Arizona (and I suspect other institutions of higher learning) has settled for an ineffective system.  

For now, I have three examples.  I am sure I could add many more to my list with further study on developmental and educational psychology.

Massed learning is much less effective than distributed learning.  When a concept is taught over a period of time, the level of acquisition is much higher.  I was thinking of the pre-sessions (a semester worth of credit taught in three weeks) and summer/winter sessions (one month and three weeks, respectively).  I was thinking of my class on Monday nights in which for three hours we are lectured on one week worth of material.  I was thinking of how information is dumped on us through lecture or through text book (only hitting two of the four most common learning styles) in a short amount of time.

The information is recalled (and then for most students I assume forgotten shortly after) on exams.  Today in one of my classes, we were told the class results of our most recent exam.  Out of 120 students, 100 received a score of B or higher (with some receiving a score of over 100% due to the extra credit points available).  14 students received a C grade, and only 6 received D's and E's (we don't have F's at my school).

This is great news!  We are understanding the material; both the professor and the students are doing their jobs, playing their roles well.  But this was my professor's response: "So apparently next time I need to write a more difficult exam."  That didn't sit well with me.  It made me think of the normal curve that forces people into a distribution.  (The curve that professors and instructors use when they say they "curved the test" is not the correct use of this distribution.  If your professors really used a curve, they would force exam scores into the normal distribution by finding the mean and placing a equal number of students above and below.  For example, if the mean exam score is a 50%, that becomes the new C and the same number of scores are placed in the A and B section as are in the D and E section.  However, if your class did well on the exam and the mean score is an 85%, that becomes the new C and the rest of the scores are distributed as described above.)  Essentially, I felt like my professor was expecting us to fail.  Though the reality is that in a class of 120 there will be E students no matter how effective the teacher is, her response to our class-wide success was to make sure it doesn't happen again.  It may be idealistic and unattainable, so maybe it's the optimist in me that thinks the goal of the professor should be a top heavy distribution where most of the students are performing excellently.  It should not be her indication that she needs to amp up the difficulty of her exams.

The grading system for exams is what seems to frustrate students most.  The day after a test, how many people in your classes ask the professor when the class will get the graded tests back?  We want to know how we did, what we can do differently to score better next time.  Feedback is only effective if received promptly.  Receiving feedback 1-2 weeks after taking an exam or writing a paper is likely to have less effect on the performance of the student.  We feel proud or disappointed when the teacher hands us an A or a C or a D test or paper, but our brains don't link the feedback to our performance as closely as we would if we received grades more immediately and more frequently.  In most of my classes, my grade is solely based on a couple of exams.  This is the only feedback I get for the semester.

Teachers already have the tools (D2L or Blackboard) to institute online quizzes, to give immediate feedback, and to post grades quickly.  Most of my instructors and professors also have TAs helping them with the grading.  Based on what feedback (positive reinforcement or punishment, in Skinner's words) does to behavior, returning tests and posting grades should be a more urgent and important task.

You probably have homework to get to, so I will wrap this up, even though sometimes I feel like I have four and a half semesters of complaints.  Since the beginning of the semester, the instructor in my I/O Psychology class (a class that teaches about psychology in the workplace) has referred to the students as customers and as colleagues at different times during class, usually in order to use workplace lingo and to demonstrate or reinforce the concepts of the course.  Today, she talked about the University as a business with an aim to be profitable financially.  Thinking about university as a business and myself as a customer makes absolutely no sense to me.  Imagine if you were seeking a product and you walked into a place of business looking to purchase such thing.  The clerk says, "Sure, you have come to exactly the right place!  We have just that thing.  So we are going to take the money you are about to pay for said thing, we are going to hire you (without pay, of course), and we are going to help you make this product yourself.  And in the end, you will walk away with said product!"  This is why universities cannot be viewed as an organization whose aim is to be profitable.  Whether or not they actually make a profit is not the issue; I understand full well that professors need to be paid and facilities need to be maintained.  Go ahead and be profitable, but don't seek profit as goal number one as if you are an industry.  If you are an industry, students are the products, the clientele, and the coworkers (subordinates, but still), and this makes no sense.

You are an organization that provides higher levels of learning.  Since this higher learning, the way you do it, costs money, some students are willing to invest in their education and reputation in order to pay the cost for you to provide them with education.  What say you start making it worth the investment?

These are things I write on my course evaluations every year, but similar to the aforementioned issue of delayed and infrequent feedback, you only receive this feedback twice a year, once after each semester.  So here is my feedback, University of Arizona.  I give you an F.  Even though there are no F's in universities.

All My Fountains

I am an affirmation addict.  I know there are girls like me, and I even think there are enough of us to form a club.  A new haircut, a well planned outfit, or a hilarious Facebook status are just complement inducers to an addict like me.  (The 'Like' button on Facebook is my emotional heroin.)  

Today, though, something I have known for a long time made the journey from brain knowledge to heart belief.  No human being (or "So-and-so liked your status" notification) can fill my need for affirmation.  There are no people who have the ability to tell me I am good enough, not even a close friend of mine who can love me enough like I truly need to be loved.

It is not that my friends are terrible at loving me.  They are actually quite good at it, and I am thankful everyday to be so lucky.  All they can give, though, cannot fill or sustain me.

Built into me was this question, "Am I good enough?"  The world tells me no, but the purpose of the question is not to leave me wanting or hurting or hearing no after no after no.  The purpose of the intrinsic question of worth is that my soul will for all its days seek the answer and someday hear, "Of course you are."  

Sometimes when I ask this question of others, I will get a "Yep" or a "Sure" or an "Uh-huh."  More often than not, my friends provide me with the "Yes" I want to hear.  But since they are imperfect people too, sometimes when I ask this question of them it's like that feeling when you think there's one more stair and there isn't.  It's necessary to have friends who make you feel valued, but they are simply unable to attend to your emotional needs all the time (it would actually be an unhealthy relationship if they did only attend to your needs all the time).  

If you get a chance, read Erwin McManus' book Soul Cravings.  I just finished the section on love, and here's how I would summarize it: We were made for love.  (The last chapter of the section is two sentences long: "All you need is love.  God is love."  When someone loves me, it is supposed to point me to God.  It's a silly analogy, but I think of free samples.  One would have to be sneaky, patient, and/or desperate enough to make a meal out of free samples, and it's likely that even if one was able to get many samples, it would not make a very fulfilling meal.  The samples are supposed to point you to the product.  They are supposed to make your hungry brain go, "Ooh!  This is good!  I think I want some more."  

I have tried to live off of those free samples of affirmation.  It is my struggle, part of my story, and a cycle of which I regularly find myself at the bottom.  Someone offers me a sample of their love and affection - by giving me a compliment, acting happy to see me, spending time with me - and I say, "Hmm... if I'm sneaky enough, maybe I can get enough of this to make a meal."  But I go home hungry.  

When others' opinions of me are the ones that matter, I will be left wanting.  

However, when I ask God to affirm me, to answer my question loud and clear with a "You were knit together" or an "I have made you whole" or "You are worthy of my friendship" or, one of my favorites, "You have an important purpose and are worthy of the community I have built around you."

Then, because of the nature of God, I am overflowing, and instead of trying to live off the bite size pieces of affirmation those around me have to offer, their bites add to the abundance.