Independent Study: This is it, Boys.

After a semester of making changes to a manuscript, to the project, and to my heart, we're ready to share with you.

This sends you to 300wordsaday.com/agreatwork.

After just two clicks, you'll be reading A Great Work.

We will gladly accept comments on this excerpt. That's why we're doing it this way.

Read. Enjoy. Learn.

I have had a rough time with this project this semester, and I'm glad I had to write about it or I wouldn't have finished it at all.

Thank you, Terry, for being willing to work with me on this. Our conversations have been wonderful and encouraging, and perfectly timed.

Thank you, people around me who have listened to me talk about what I've been doing. Your positive reactions let me know that this is worthwhile stuff.

Thank you, Mom, for reminding me every week to be working on this. I know that I needed it.

Thank you, Dad, for writing to teach. You helped me fill in the empty hours in my semester with a "class" that taught me about God, about the Bible, and about me.

Thank you, readers. I know you are few, but you are faithful. (I'm talking to you, LG.) If you like what you read, share it. Tell us what you like. Tell us what you think needs to be changed.

Glory to God.

Independent Study: Finishing the Hat

We have about fifteen chapters left to finish.
Even though I'm terrible at following through on goals, I'm setting a personal goal to be completely finished and selling copies by August.
I think that's reasonable.
For those of you who have ways of interacting with me beyond comments on blog posts, do me a favor and ask me how it's going.

Meanwhile, I'm going to keep studying Nehemiah and publishing. I'm not sure that I'm going to become any kind of editor, but after I write one more post I will be finished with being told what to study. I get to choose to study publishing.

Over the course of the semester, Dad sent me several links to articles and blog posts about publishing. I want to share them with you.

Here's one from Steve Woodruff about how the industry is being changed by the rise of self-publishing.

Guy Kawasaki shares his 10 Social Media Tips for Authors. We'll be sure to remember these through this process.

Geoff Livingston is done with traditional publishing.

Kris Rusch talks about hiring editors. She delineates the types of editors that exist and how to choose one.

Thanks for joining us on this journey.

The next post will be the last of my assigned 10, and will give you instructions on how to obtain a copy of our sample.

Independent Study: In Defense of This Method

The author reads my posts. He commented on the one I wrote last night:

"I'm thinking that the five chapter approach isn't just because we put it off. Reading APE earlier in the semester showed me the value of testing and feedback and comments as part of the publishing process, especially for ebook publishing. It's part of platform building. So I'm not sure that this is a lesser thing, I think it's the right thing. (And that's not just justifying my one procrastination. It seems to work very well for Guy Kawasaki and for others who have allowed sharing of their work.)"

One of the books that has helped me in this project is a recent publication by Guy Kawasaki and Shawn Welch. APE: Author, Publisher, Entrepreneur is a self-published book about self-publishing. 

Publishing this way allows us to tweak the book until we're ready to publish. Even after we make our PressBooks version public, we'll be able to make changes so people will get the most updated version.

It's what influenced my post in defense of publishing A Great Work, and has helped me understand the process authors go through when trying to convince people to buy into their books.

If you want to learn more, buy the book. (This link goes to Dad's Amazon store.) and/or check out apethebook.com.

Like Dad said, this approach is helping us with more than making a deadline. We can ask for feedback, build an audience, and make sure what we're putting out there is what people want to read.

I was home for last night and part of today, and having this conversation with Dad helped me feel like less of a failure in this project.
Also, my grades are slowly being published and I have A's in everything so far. Including Romans, which was stressing me out.
I would love to write more, but my youth pastor's baby is struggling to survive, and I need to pray for him.

I ask you to join me.

Independent Study: PressBooks

This is a pretty rad publishing tool. In a few easy steps, you can create a book and export it in various ebook formats, PDF, and others. It takes just a little bit more work than managing a blog, and you can send your complete book directly to your friends' inboxes or ereaders.

Last night was our first use of PressBooks. It took less than an hour to create a foreword, introduction, and five chapters. We were then able to send it to Dad's Kindle and make changes as we needed. It's simple to then export the newest version. We're fans.

PressBooks uses the power of WordPress, and lets you create a website for your book that is essentially a blog. But being able to publish takes this platform so much further.

Here's what I just found on the blog on PressBooks.com.

"Three Design Principles underpinning PressBooks

1. PressBooks should be easy for anyone to use (even me).
2. Input text once / output in every format: EPUB, MOBI, WEB AND PRINT.
3. The web will win in the end (and future-proofing your workflow now is a good idea)."

Exactly. At least, the first two points. It is so convenient that we can send our document to both Kindle and nook users, and those who are content to read a PDF.

You can use one of their themes for the design of your book.

It will automatically generate a table of contents.

You can update as many times as you need/want to.

It's just great.

We still have some experimenting to do, but so far we are very pleased with the simplicity of PressBooks.

Independent Study: Here's How I'm Going To Pass

We realized that finishing the whole book while trying to pass everything else and while Dad still works full time was just not going to happen.

Dad suggested an alternative.
Rather than sacrificing in other areas, we'd postpone the final version of A Great Work.

Instead, we spent some time this evening putting the introduction, the first five chapters, and my post in defense of publication (the Foreword) into PressBooks.

We'll be able to send that document to a kind of test audience to whet their appetites.
I'm excited about this.

Of course, it wasn't my first choice.
I suppose I forgot that this was a real class.
I dropped the ball and just couldn't quite pick it up again, and that is difficult for me to admit.
This was my fault. Despite regular reminders from my parents, I neglected this project.

But Terry has been gracious and encouraging, more so than I have deserved.

We still want to publish the whole book. We will work on it this summer, in all of the free time we'll have.

That was sarcasm. Dad and I will both be working this summer, at the same place. That's a different post.

Tomorrow I'll be writing about PressBooks.

Independent Study: Why Should We Publish This?

With the rise of self-publishing, books that have no business being sold are regularly finding their way onto Amazon.

Someone has a cool life story or wrote a great creative writing sample for a class and suddenly people are saying "you should write a book." They don't really mean it, and would never purchase the finished product, but it's what the writer wants to hear so he or she decides sit down and type up a manuscript. Because self-publishing doesn't require anyone's approval, the writer can put it up for sale and then sink into a depression when it doesn't sell more than the few pity copies bought by relatives and close friends.

So why are we publishing this? Why is this book more worthy of publication than any of the others?

Unbiased opinion: my dad is a great writer. Seriously, if I didn't think he was talented, I wouldn't be spending time doing this. He writes well, he writes good, he writes to teach, and people learn. He has made friends all over the country and world over the past several years as he has written blogs, spoken at conferences, and tweeted about the coffee being ready. (You don't have to take my word for it. Check out 300wordsaday.com to find out for yourself.) And the fact that he spent over a decade studying and teaching communication and rhetoric, and a lifetime working on understanding what it means to follow Christ gives him some credibility. (Not to mention the fact that he's already published two ebooks that have sold pretty well.) It's quality, thoughtful, insightful writing. He did the necessary research. He worked to understand, and it's worth sharing with those who struggle with the Old Testament.

People don't read the Old Testament. Okay, so we read Psalms and Proverbs, parts of Isaiah, parts of the Pentateuch, and other stories that we think are cool (Esther, Ruth, the anointing of David, etc.). But Nehemiah? "Oh, he's the one who built the wall, right? Yeah, I kinda remember reading that story in my Read-the-whole-Bible-in-a-Year plan. I guess it was pretty cool." Dad's book takes us into the story. The subtitle is "A Conversational Commentary with Nehemiah for People (who want to be) Doing Great Works." A conversational commentary. Sometimes Dad might sound a little crazy because he's saying that he's having conversations with Nehemiah, but that's what it's like. You'll get over it. It's a different way of reading the OT. As I read Dad's book I am constantly reminded that Nehemiah was a real guy who actually oversaw the rebuilding of the wall around Jerusalem, who actually faced opposition, who actually prayed and fasted for four months until the king asked him what was up. Readers will have an understanding of Nehemiah that you just can't get from reading a traditional commentary. Unless you actually understand traditional commentaries, in which case I commend you. But read this book. It's worth your time.

It's quality. It's different. It's helpful.

It's worthy of publication.

Independent Study: This Is A Book.

A few months ago, Dad came to visit me. He had been working on some course writing about 45 minutes away from campus, and we decided to have lunch together.

It was a Friday, so I had choir. We met at SG just before noon so I could buy him coffee with Bethel Bucks, and he sat here writing for an hour. (Nehemiah visited him while he was here and they talked about the lists of names. You'll be able to read about it after we publish.)

After lunch (Chipotle!), and some grocery shopping, we sat in the Shupe lounge for a while. We talked about the project and he shared his insights about the lists. And this is when he said it:

"We're writing a book, aren't we?"

I'm not sure it had ever been said out loud, and it was a major shift in my thinking about the project. It's not a very long book, and I don't know whether we'll have it printed, but it's still a book. We are self-publishing a book.

Dad's the author, obviously. Nehemiah might get contributor credit. I'm working as editor and copyeditor. Big thanks go to Terry, Mom, and those who have let Dad talk about Nehemiah for the past year.

I feel like I'm getting ahead of myself here. All we have at this point is a manuscript and a dream.

Okay, it's a little bit more than a dream, but it was poetic. It could be a song in a musical about an aspiring writer. Maybe that will be my next project.

For now, we'll be polishing the first five chapters for early publication.

And I'll be posting daily for the next week.

Tomorrow I'll be asking the question "why should we publish this?"

Independent Study: This one is difficult to write.

When I checked my email this afternoon, I read the subject line of the first message in my inbox.
The way I read it, it said "How IS the project coming?"

This was like a punch in the gut. Read it out loud with the emphasis, and you might know what I mean.

 I now know that it actually says "How is the IS project coming?" This is an entirely different sort of question, carrying much less of a guilt trip. But you'll understand why I read it the way I did as you continue reading.

When I read that subject line, my face got how and I simultaneously wanted to cry, climb in bed and go to sleep, and go for a run. The tears would have been from shame. The desire to sleep came from the opportunity it would give to escape from reality. And I only want to run when I have something to run from. Fight or flight response. When I'm confronted with something that requires me to admit my shortcomings, I choose flight every time.

The project is not going well. The semester is not going well. I am in a pit that I dug for myself, and it's easier to just stay down here than to try to climb out. This, of course, is not the response that anyone wants from me. I've been squandering my potential my whole life, and I've said more times that I care to count that "it's time to do things differently."
Well, at the end of my time in undergraduate studies, I'd better figure out how to stick to that statement.

If this project is about lessons in doing a great work, I'm going to treat this project as a great work.
In the editing that I did this evening, after feeling terrible all afternoon, I learned that it fits many of the criteria for a great work.
If you want to know more about these criteria, you can read the book on your Kindle when it's published in May.

The manuscript is now two-thirds finished (as far as I'm concerned).
I'm further behind in my reading that I care to acknowledge (this is true of most of my classes at the moment).
And this is only the third of the ten posts I committed to writing.

The project, from now on, will get better.
My edits of the manuscript I have will be finished by Saturday. Dad, I'll give you the binder at lunch.
My reading will be done within two weeks.
I'll be writing multiple posts each week.

This will get done. I will finish well.
I have made mistakes, but I am not a failure. I refuse to defeat myself.

That's how the project is going.

Spring Break 2013

Last year, I was battling the flu for the first few days of break.

I ended up with a few hours of time with friends, but I was mostly either sleeping or studying.

This year, I've been perfectly healthy. I've spent almost no time with friends, and I don't feel as sad about that as I wish I did.

I love my friends. I miss them. I wish I was home more to be around them.

But this semester has cost me more social energy than I've had to spend. I'm overdrawn, and instead of a $25 fee, I'm paying in solitary recovery time.

To my dear friends from Fort Wayne who might be reading this, I apologize. I have neglected text messages, stayed home alone when I could be out with you, and more or less hidden from all social activity.

The introvert in me needed this week to save up for the rest of the semester.

I will be home this summer, and possibly after that. We will have time.

I'm sitting in my brother and sister-in-law's apartment in downtown Chicago.

It is 12:19am here, while my poor body thinks it's 1:19. I will certainly be able to sleep as soon as I finish this post and shut my computer down, but I'm still a college student and can pull an all-nighter if I need to.

We arrived around 7:30 and spent the evening eating dinner and talking. Mom and Andrew baked an apple pie to eat tomorrow night with homemade ice cream. Yes, my brother and I share a love of cooking and baking. I always wanted to be just like him, and now that we're becoming adults separately, I can see that we're more alike than we ever knew. I didn't need to try; I just needed to wait. And I love these times that we all get to spend together like this.

While the pie was in the oven, we sat in the living room. There were conversations that included two or three or five of us. We talked about our lives, where Allie is applying, what Andrew's clients are doing, how Mom feels now that she's done at the warehouse, the online class Dad is teaching right now. I usually keep pretty quiet during these conversations. I've always been the quiet one.

When I decided to write a post, I was sitting on the couch, flipping through Kinfolk Magazine, listening to Mom and Allie chat, drifting in and out of their conversation. The sounds of the city rise from the streets 15 stories down, the candle flickers, students in the studio on the floor above move easels. Dad and Andrew take Chevy for her late-night walk. I am with the people I love the most in a city that is familiar and yet always surprises me. I am home. Time with family is a deposit, not a withdrawal. These hours seem so rare, so precious, and I want to savor them.

In the middle of this city, where taxis are still on the streets and students are still upstairs in the studio, I find peace and rest. I am refreshed and restored.

"Inhale grace; exhale gratitude."

Facing the Finality of it All

This time on Friday, I will be sitting with my parents watching the late night news.
It will be about time for the first commercial break, during which my mom will head upstairs to go to bed.
I was just about to type that I would probably be receiving a text from her during the writing of this post as my phone lit up with that very text. "goodnight. love you."
Every night. I know to expect a text between 11:08 and 11:18.

Next week is my last Spring Break.
Then I have the last half of my last semester of undergrad.
It's starting to sink in.

I was heading into a meeting with Terry Linhart today, and Dr. Dendiu was standing in his doorway.
These two men have had a profound impact on my life. They have encouraged me and challenged me, and I am so incredibly thankful for them. For a non-major, I have spent a surprising amount of time in courses in the Religion & Philosophy Department. Of the fifteen faculty members on the R&P page on Bethel's website, I have had at least one class with seven. I'm in my fourth class with Brother Tim, my second with Chad Meister (and he is the leader of a discipleship group I'm in), I had my second class with both Dr. Dendiu and DB last semester, Cris Mihut was my advisor for StuCo, I'm on the Student Development Committee with Dr. Eby, and Dr. Gerber was on the trip to England in 2011. I've had interactions with a higher percentage of the faculty in this department than in the English department. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

All of that was a digression.
Terry and Dr. Dendiu joined in with the voices that have been telling me that Bethel will be losing a lot when I graduate.
Those were the first tears of the day, but not the first on this subject.
(The next tears were as Terry made me face a future that is wide open, while I have no idea what I want to do. I was feeling slightly overwhelmed.)
I've been hearing that from so many people whose opinions I respect and value, and who have no idea how much I will be losing when I graduate.

It's finally hitting me that I'm leaving. That I'm really leaving. That I might not ever come back.
And I can't stand it. I'm not ready to graduate.
I'm not ready to leave this place and these people.

As I'm sitting in the lab right now, in walks a freshman I helped as he was writing his final paper for Block 3.
I had taken a couple hundred cookies over to Oakwood on the Sunday night before Finals Week, and ended up talking to several members of this year's Block about whether The Taming of the Shrew was a farce or a story of abusive male dominance. I'm on the side of comedy, and pushed them hard to write it that way. But they all ended up writing on the other side. So I helped the kid formulate a strong argument, because I wanted him to do well, regardless of whether or not I agreed with him.
Then I got rid of the rest of my cookies and went on my merry way.

It's weird enough for a senior to be taking cookies to freshmen, but I definitely can't do it after I graduate.
Too far, Swanson. Too far.
I just like baking cookies, okay! "It's like being a mom without the responsibilities," as it was put so nicely by Casey Stump tonight.

I am leaving. I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing for the summer.
I know that I'm going on Choir Tour for the first week after graduation, so I've at least got that figured out.
Cool. Then what?
I have some options, but I'm not going to write about them yet. I've made that mistake before, and then had to take it all back.

Whatever I do this summer, I know it will be good. I'm looking forward to being done with the stress of going to class and getting reading assignments finished and writing papers and editing the Composition Manual and, oh yeah, I'm editing to Composition Manual for the English Department because apparently I'm into editing now even though I never really thought that I would use the English Department-related part of my major but, hey, it will look good on a resume when I finally get around to putting a resume together and it's all getting to be a little bit ridiculous because I still have three papers to write before I leave on Friday so I have no business writing this post and I really hope you're reading this really quickly and that you would be out of breath by now because that's how I feel and how's that for text painting?

Breathe.
Breathe.

I have two more months.
Then I will be done with classes, except for choir on the 26th of April, which I'm guessing we'll have because it's the day of Choral Showcase and we'll have our emotional time of saying "good-bye" to the seniors who aren't going on Choir Tour.
In two months, I will be finished with almost everything.
I might have one final.
I'll have a couple more events.
And then it's over. I'll walk across the stage, get my diploma, smile for the pictures, load up my parents car, and have my last night on campus.

It's coming at me so quickly and I don't know what to do but brace for the impact and try to keep my eyes open so I don't miss anything.

And now, for the first time, I'm in the Computer Lab as they're trying to shut it down.

That's the end.

Thanks for reading and letting me rant to you.
And to those of you who have had to listen to me rant in person, thank you/I'm sorry.

Good night.
I love you all.

How To Be My Valentine (for the hoards of guys who are wondering)

I have fully embraced the fact that I will not graduate with an engagement ring on my finger.
I'm fine with that.
I'm also comfortable with the fact that only two guys have ever expressed romantic interest in me over the past four years, that I have never in my life been on a proper date, and that this is not the first or second or third post about this subject.

Last year around this time, I wrote a post about how I never talk about Valentine's Day. I wrote about how much I dislike chick flicks and the idea of "love" that they present.
I stand by what I wrote then.

This post expands upon the last paragraph of that one. The part that lists a few things that I would really appreciate from the "Someone" I wanted to be my Valentine. To be honest, I'm not sure I even remember who that was.
I just really like gifts. Receiving a gift that I've talked about in a blog post is a dream of mine. That sounds so lame, but it's true. When people tell me that they enjoyed reading a recent post, it immediately improves my day. I don't just write these things for my own benefit. Even if it's just a challenge to you to be more open with people, I write to be read.

Let's be honest, I have never been the best Valentine. When I was in seventh grade, the guy who was my boyfriend gave me a box (covered in duct tape with inside jokes written on it) filled with various kinds of candy. It was awesome. I didn't give him anything.
In eighth grade, my Valentine gave me a bag of chocolate hearts. I didn't give him anything.
I don't like giving obligatory gifts. I will gladly bake something for your birthday if you want me to. But I would rather surprise you three months later with something I know you will appreciate or find amusing. Like a package of gumballs or a Justin Bieber singing toothbrush.

But, in case you have ever wondered, here are a few things that I would make me feel loved right now.

-Flowers. I have made it no secret that flowers are my love language. They just make me smile.
-If I walked outside tomorrow morning (at 6:55, because we have a Music Ministry Team performance at Beulah Missionary and are loading the trailer/vans at 7) to find that the snow had been cleared from my car, I would probably cry. Of course, the tears would freeze on my face and I would have to fix my makeup, but it would be worth it. (My car, a grey Impala, is parked in the Lodge/Shupe lot to the right of the car with the Chastity bumper sticker. That is my roommate's car.)
-White v-neck Hanes undershirts, size Small. I paint them. But I haven't had any new ones in a long time. I miss painting.
-Sushi. Specifically the Dynamite Roll from Soho Japanese Bistro in Granger. It is my absolute favorite food.
-"Stranger Than Fiction" on DVD. It is one of three Will Farrell movies that I actually enjoy watching, and I never get tired of it. (The others are "Elf" and "Megamind," in case you were wondering.)

I will not be disappointed if I don't get any of these things. I am an adult and I have other ways to feel fulfilled. I'll go bake 200 cookies and give them to people.
But I've been told that there must be a bunch of guys who have their eyes on me (though I have no idea who they might be). This is your chance. I'm not as intimidating as I might seem. Seriously. I'm usually either trying to be funny or trying not to embarrass myself.


This entire post is the result of wishing someone would clean off my car so I wouldn't have to.

Independent Study: I read Nehemiah last week.

Until last week, I had never read more than a few verses of Nehemiah.
Between Monday and Friday, I finally read all thirteen chapters.
Okay, I may have skimmed over the lists of names a little bit.
I think that's okay, although I'm guessing I'll write about those lists in a few weeks.

A long time ago, I wrote a post about Nehemiah and Ephesians 6. I talked about being the New Testament Nehemiah, putting on the full armor of God (Eph. 6:10ff) to protect against the enemies that attack.
It related back to Nehemiah 4:11-14. The enemies of the builders were coming to put an end to their work, so Nehemiah "stationed the people by their clans, with their swords, their spears, and their bows" (Neh. 4:13b, ESV).

My point in the post was that the historical books in the Old Testament can be applied to our lives today by way of analogy, and that the New Testament affirms the Old.

I still think that this is true, but I'm slower to make those comparisons. What I am quick to do is remind myself and others that YHWH is unchanging. He watched over the builders in 445 B.C. and He watches over me right now.

When Paul called the Ephesians to be vigilant, he said "we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places" (Eph. 6:12, ESV). He was not calling the readers/hearers of his letter to wage a physical war. He was calling them to be prepared to fight spiritual battles.

Nehemiah was old school, calling the people to prepare for a physical fight.
Okay, Nehemiah was facing humans who were coming to "cause confusion" in Jerusalem. This phrase has also been translated as "cause a disturbance" or "to hinder."
To put it simply, they were coming to bring the pain.
And Nehemiah wanted to be ready.
"But just in case they jump us/We're ready to mix/tonight."
(I needed to throw a little "West Side Story" in there.)

He called the people to arms: "Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome, and fight for your brothers, your sons, your daughters, your wives, and your homes" (v. 14b).

I don't want to make statements about pacifism or holy war or just war or anything like that, but I suppose that in not saying anything, I would be saying something.
I don't like war. I wish that we could all just talk things out rationally and make allowances for cultural differences. I wish that peace could reign.
But I've lived long enough to understand that those wishes aren't going to come true. People are people, disagreements happen, and rationality doesn't always happen.

And I believe that when it comes to defending one's family, sometimes violence is the only option. If the life of one of my relatives was in immediate danger, I can say with confidence that I would commit some sort of violent act if it would save the life of my family.
I think that this is what Nehemiah was making sure the people were prepared to do. They weren't going to seek a fight, but they sure weren't going to sit around while their enemies attacked.

I just realized that this might seem like a timely post in regards to the various gun control debates that have been happening in the past few weeks (or the entire history of our country). Please do not read this through that lens. I have not been paying enough attention to that conversation to be commenting on it.

I'm not really sure what my point is in this post. More than anything, I think it was the realization that reading the entire book put those few verses in context and helped me understand why the people needed to defend themselves, who they were defending against, and what they were doing that caused such anger.

And I think the picture of the builders using one hand to work and the other hand to hold a weapon, just in case.
But they never used their weapons. The conspirators didn't attack, though they tried to trick Nehemiah into meeting with them.
"Remember Tobiah and Sanballat, O my God, according to these things that they did, and also the prophetess Noadiah and the rest of the prophets who wanted to make me afraid."

Nehemiah, though he prepared the people to defend with weapons, always knew that "the battle belongs to the Lord."  He had heard the stories of the preexilic kings of Judah, so he knew how God had defeated armies while His people watched. (I am now understanding why I took that Chronicles class last semester.)

Know God's power, and never forget that He is unchanging. But don't expect Him to behave the way you want Him to. Much like Miley Cyrus, He "can't be tamed." I'm only slightly ashamed of that reference.

Prepare for battle. Take up your sword and be ready to swing it. And know that "Our God will fight for us."
These are not mutually exclusive situations.

Maybe next week I'll actually talk about editing.

Inconvenient Causes for Praise

A cold has been brewing since Sunday night. I've been suspecting it for a while. I made it this far into the school year without much trouble, so I figured it would show up eventually.

It hit this morning. I'm expecting it to get worse over the next 24-48 hours, and then I'll be carrying tissues around for another couple of weeks.

I really do not enjoy being sick. I don't think anyone does, Munchausen syndrome aside. I hate being around people when I'm sick, I hate being bedridden, I hate how lazy I feel, I hate how raw my nose is right now, I hate how often I'm using hand sanitizer.

Not to mention the fact that we have a Music Ministry Team performance on Sunday morning, and another on Monday for Preview Day. This is not a good time to be sick.

My friend Rachelle found out just before school started that she had a cavernoma. It's raspberry-shaped bundle of blood vessels in the brain. Some people live with them for their whole lives and don't have a single symptom. Rachelle's had bled, and she'd had some tingling in the right side of her body. The doctors decided that it needed to be removed.

The beginning of one's final semester of college is not a convenient time for brain surgery.

And yet, all times are good times for God to be glorified.

My roommate came into the room, found out that I was sick, and very quickly left, saying that she needed to go to the story. She came back about and hour later and presented me with tea, soup, Kleenex pocket packs, and Emergen-C. Katie and I have a mutual love of giving and receiving gifts, so this situation, and much as I don't like it, has been a blessing for both of us. And yes, I will be spraying down the room with Lysol before Shupe Group to try to keep my sickness from spreading.

Rachelle went in on Monday morning, the cavernoma was removed, and she's home now recovering. She was talking, walking, and eating within a few hours of her surgery. (Granted, she didn't keep the food down for long, but the fact that she was hungry is a good thing.)

God is so good and I love the ways that He shows His power.

Independent Study: Introduction

In November, on a short trip to Chicago to pick up my brother and sister-in-law's dog, my dad and I were talking about the upcoming semester. I listed the classes I was taking and expressed concern at only having 13 credit hours. True, with Modern Philosophy with Dr. Meister and Romans with Dr. McCabe, they weren't 13 easy hours, but I've always gotten by on minimum requirements and I don't want that to be the way I finish college. I want to really be challenged.

Dad asked me what I wanted to learn this semester, and who I wanted to learn from. I had no idea how to answer the first question, but the second was easy. For the past couple of years I've wanted to take a class with Dr. Terry Linhart. He and Dad have become friends and through that he and I have gotten to know each other a little bit. The thing is, he doesn't teach classes that I'm interested in taking. And he decided not to teach the class that I had registered for with him last spring.

Dad and I came to the conclusion that I should come up with an Independent Study, and ask Terry to be the advisor.
But what should I study?
My father, in his great wisdom, had an answer to that, too: Nehemiah.
That's right. The book of Nehemiah. From the Old Testament. The story of a cupbearer who got the people to rebuild the wall of Jerusalem in 52 days.
Dad has been studying Nehemiah in-depth since July 2012 and he has slowly come to the conclusion that the end result will be a book. He's writing and re-writing and having conversations with Nehemiah and it is so cool to hear him talk about what he is learning.

But what does that have to do with me?
I'm spending the semester editing for grammar and for content, adding footnotes, and formatting the text so it's ready to publish for Kindles. I'll be meeting with Terry a couple times a month, posting here about my progress each week, reading books on editing and publishing, studying Nehemiah, and learning about doing a great work.

I'm excited to dive into this project, and I hope that you will join me on this journey. If nothing else, go read Nehemiah sometime this week. It's an amazing story in the history of the people of Israel, and I can't wait to learn more about it.

A few words on poetry, or I'm more of a romantic than I like to admit.

Before I begin, I need to say that few things make me happier than when the first thing I hear when I go to Pandora is a deep voice saying "You go girls." The music from "Hercules" is some of my favorite Disney music. I love Alan Menken.
And the next song that plays is "You've Got A Friend In Me." Pandora is so good to me sometimes.

Okay. Here are my words on poetry:
I enjoy reading it. I really do. One of our books for Seminar in Literature: Love and Friendship is The 100 Best Love Poems of All Time, edited by Leslie Pockell. I was just looking through it and found myself appreciating it more than I thought I would. When I first saw the book list I laughed to see this one.
My portfolio for last semester had a diary theme. Each section intro was a diary entry, and unfortunately they all started with me talking about how much I hate analyzing literature. I think I was most negative about studying poetry. I just think it's silly. Maybe it's because my poetry is primarily love poems without much hidden meaning, but I don't think it's necessary to discuss what the writer was trying to say. Just enjoy the art for what is in front of you. Let it be.

This book ranges from Emily Dickinson's passionate "Wild Nights!" to Sara Teasdale's more subtle "Those Who Love" to Robert Burns's "A Red, Red Rose." I have sung two different choral arrangements of this last poem, and I think it is beautiful. I enjoy love poems and I don't care who knows it.

But they always make me jealous. Anne Bradstreet wrote "To My Dear and Loving Husband" centuries ago, and I envy that love. I want someone to write about me they Hilaire Belloc wrote about "Juliet." "I Want to Breathe" (James Laughlin).

I write about this more often than I should. I probably come across as more desperate than I am. I am fairly confident in my singleness, but I wouldn't mind a change. I have a particular change in mind, but I will say nothing more about that.

I just hate to admit that I'm a romantic. In everything else I accept the harsh reality of life, and it's not as if I'm expecting my life to have the formula plot of a chick flick. I would hate that. I'm not a formula.
But I love the idea of being surprised with a bouquet from a Secret Admirer who takes a few weeks to reveal himself. (I realize that it would be terrible if it was someone I wasn't interested in. My feet are on the ground.) Flowers are my love language.

I just watched the newest episode of "Downton Abbey." I was less than surprised to find myself tearing up as Lady Mary came down the stairs in her wedding dress to greet her father and Mr. Carson. They way they all looked at each other was just too much for me. I cry so easily these days: at videos of flash mob engagement, at kind words from a friend, at Nehemiah, at anything that reminds me that I'm graduating and leaving Bethel.
And at poems that make me hope for a fierce, intentional, devoted, real, unpretentious, and pure love.
Like this one, "Wear Me" by Robert Kogan:

I want you to wear me
comfortably,
as you would a dress,
or the silver necklace that you wear
around your neck.
Comfortably, so that I am always
next to you:
but most important-
something you decide
each morning to select.

Ugh. Why did I think that a class on "Love and Friendship" was a good idea? I'll let you know when I find out. 

2012: A Year In Review

I started out the year with my best friends.

January included deciding to go to the Czech Republic, attending a talk by Don Miller, and starting a new discipleship group.
February, according to my blog archive, was uneventful. I wrote about Valentine's Day. Twice. And I learned that I don't express emotions well. Cool.
I had the flu over Spring Break in March, I started counting down to the CZ trip, and I realized that I was about to turn 21. (I'm using my blog as reference. I really don't remember much of last spring.)
Then I turned 21. On Good Friday. And didn't get drunk. Hooray. April also included finding housing for the summer and applying for graduation. Melisa came back from England and Rachelle and Nelya came back from PacRim.
May. Oh, May. I took Human Biology and got an A. I baked cupcakes. We had people over for dinner. I enjoyed having hundreds of channels. I got a car. It was sunny. I loved May.
I got paid to make cupcakes in June. Twice. And they were delicious and people loved them. I traveled to Wisconsin and met some wonderful people and saw two dear friends get married to each other. And a few weeks later I saw those two people at the wedding of two other awesome people. June.
July was a whirlwind of a month. I packed up my stuff and moved out of the apartment. Stephanie and I decided to live in Shupe. I went to the Czech Republic. Read my posts from that month. I just re-read one of them and it reminded me of how badly I want to go back. Not as an intern. Just as a traveler. Or as a resident.
August started in a jetlagged blur. My parents and I had a mini-vacation to Cleveland for a wedding. And then I started to get ready to come back to school.
The rest of the year included class, music, events, meetings, tears, laughter, vlogs, grace, exhaustion, frustration, and finishing as well as I could.

The very last day of 2012 was the day I got all four wisdom teeth removed. It was the only time in my life that I have ever wished I had something in my stomach to throw up. It was the most helpless I have ever felt. My mom, who hasn't had to do much hands-on work in the way of taking care of me really earned her stripes in those first few hours. Daddy brought me flowers. I slept as much as I could. I woke up in the late afternoon and stayed up until just after midnight.

2012 was a far less emotional year than 2011. Our nation mourned the victims of several shootings. We re-elected a president. We killed and were killed, we spent money. There were victories and losses. Sometimes those were the same things.

The world didn't end.

Here's to another year. It's going to be a good one, I think.