Georgia!

I've been away for a long time, I know.  This past month, a lot has been happening, and I didn't want to blog about it when everything was still uncertain.  Now, though, the uncertain has become certain.  After a crazy month of application preparation and interviews, I can now say that I will be moving to Georgia and becoming a college professor.

I feel so strongly that God has led me to this decision.  For one thing, I wasn't even looking for a job.  I had two years of funding left at Iowa, and although I was getting tired of my routine, I expected to stay there until I finished.  There were various issues weighing on my heart.  The biggest of which was missions.  I had been so certain that I would teach overseas upon finishing my degree, but in a variety of ways, the past few months, I had felt like God has been closing doors in that direction.  So, I finally said, "If you want me to stay in the US to your glory, God, I'm willing to do it."  And apparently he did.

As I said, I wasn't looking for a job.  I was just looking forward into the great unknown of "after grad school" and waiting until it was closer to deal with it.  Until I got a facebook message.  A fellow Union alumna messaged me: "There's a position at our college, and my boss is interested in Union alumni.  Would you be interested?"  I looked at the university's website and answered, "Yes!"  Within half a week, I had gathered my application materials together and sent them off.  A week later, I had a phone interview.  Two weeks later, I was in Georgia for the on-campus interview.

I can't begin to say how much I felt God leading me each step through the on-campus interview.  Suffice it to say, it was all done by his grace and through his power.  I felt really good about it when I left for my hotel room that afternoon, and by 6:00 that evening, I had been offered the job.

I am so excited.  I'm excited to move back South.  I'm excited for the warm weather and the sweet tea and getting my accent back.  I'm excited to be in an environment that values family and relationships.  I'm excited to meet a bunch of college students and be an influence for Jesus in their lives.

I'm also nervous.  I'm nervous about moving, about wrapping up things at Iowa in just a few short months, about all the work I need to do before next semester begins.  I'm nervous about going somewhere and needing to make new friends and find a new church.  But I know that God has led me to this place, and I know that he will provide.

One of the things I've realized lately is that I believe that God's call for me to go to Georgia is just as important and exciting as if he had called me to go overseas.  I have a ministry to fulfill at this school, and I get to teach students how to do everything to God's glory.  There will be sacrifices and adventures and God teaching me lots of great stuff.  I can't wait!

"Who Ever Said Life is Fair? Where's That Written?"

So, for about six weeks, I was on a bunch of supplements that were supposed to raise my blood pressure and thus relieve me of some of my fatigue. This sounded like a great idea to me. More energy? Yes please! I was excited and really wanted it to work.

My body, however, disagreed. One of the supplements was a natural SSRI--I wasn't on it for depression, but the way it interacted with my brain was . . . not good. It was doing all kind of wonky things with my emotions and my energy and pretty much my life. I was more miserable than I'd been in quite a long time. So, naturally, a week ago, we said goodbye to the supplements.

About then, I also developed a very bad cold. Right now, I feel better, but I have this nagging, persistent cough that makes it hard to sleep. So, in the grocery store tonight, I grabbed a cough suppressant. Good idea, right?

Apparently, not. The cough suppressant can't be taken within 2 weeks of any SSRI. I'm glad I caught it before I took it and developed serotonin syndrome and ended up in the hospital, but . . . really? After all this, you're going to make me live with a miserable cough, too?

It's always the tiny, little things that make me realize that life is not fair.

Mainly Just a Poem, Now

I wrote a very nice post all about my plans to celebrate April as National Poetry Month. But, then, editing went crazy on blogger and it messed up the html or something, so now all I have is a bunch of code that means nothing. In that original post, I ended with a poem by my new-as-of-last-April favorite poet. (Not that the poet is new, just that she's newishly my favorite.) I'll post the other stuff tomorrow or soon, but--for tonight--I give you the poem.

The Mutes

Those groans men use

passing a woman on the street

or on the steps of the subway

to tell her she is a female

and their flesh knows it,

are they a sort of tune,

an ugly enough song, sung

by a bird with a slit tongue

but meant for music?

Or are they the muffled roaring

of deafmutes trapped in a building that is

slowly filling with smoke?

Perhaps both.

Such men most often

look as if groan were all they could do,

yet a woman, in spite of herself,

knows it's a tribute:

if she were lacking all grace

they'd pass her in silence:

so it's not only to say she's

a warm hole. It's a word

in grief-language, nothing to do with

primitive, not an ur-language;

language stricken, sickened, cast down

in decrepitude. She wants to

throw the tribute away, dis-

gusted, and can't,

it goes on buzzing in her ear,

it changes the pace of her walk,

the torn posters in echoing corridors

spell it out, it

quakes and gnashes as the train comes in.

Her pulse sullenly

had picked up speed,

but the cars slow down and

jar to a stop while her understanding

keeps on translating:

'Life after life after life goes by

without poetry,

without seemliness,

without love.'

Fighting for Joy

Be still my soul: thy best, thy heavenly friend

Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

The secondary title to Pastor John's When I Don't Desire God is "How to Fight for Joy." And growing up at Bethlehem, I heard the phrase a lot. But it wasn't until the last few years that the concept really sank down in me. I think in college, I had this idea that joy was something that was given to me. Like, "Here I am, God, give me joy now, please!" and if he didn't immediately satisfy my desire, I had this sense that it was out of my hands and I could just wallow and feel sorry for me what with my lack of joy and all. I trusted God to be my everything and get me through the hard times, and I even knew that there were things like reading the Bible and praying that I should do in pursuit of joy, but I envisioned joy-less situations as times to sit and wait for God to give me joy, not actively pursue and fight for joy.

This started to change by the end of my junior year and into my senior year of college, but just within the past year or so, I've really grasped the idea of fighting for joy. When I'm discouraged, when I'm hurt, when I'm depressed or anxious, it's good to trust God. It's good to believe that he and only he will give me joy, and it's good to wait on his timing. But, if I trust him, I'm going to act on that trust. I'm going to fight with all my might against the darkness that wants to keep me from enjoying him, and I'm going to read my Bible and pray actively--not hoping that God will maybe give me joy but actively trying to get joy and expecting God to give it to me. And, if I have trouble feeling that joy at the end of the day--if the darkness doesn't totally go away--I'm going to wake up the next morning and start the fight again, grasping to every bit of joy that I find and believing that God will give me more and more in his time.

In When I Don't Desire God, Pastor Piper writes, "Indifference to the pursuit of joy in God would be indifference to the glory of God, and that is sin." I don't think that being sad or heartbroken or depressed or lonely is sinful. But it's good to be reminded that what is sinful is allowing that kind of situation to take over and not pursuing God and his glory. Negative emotions give us a victim mentality, and while we are the victims of spiritual warfare and attacks in such times, we are also commanded to take up the armor of God and believe that through the depression, sadness, loneliness, God is leading us to be able to enjoy him more perfectly. We need to fight to find that enjoyment.

California!

One of the fun things about academia is that you sometimes get really good professional excuses for traveling to cool places. (One of the downsides is that sometimes you have to travel to really uncool places . . . ie, Terre Haute, IN.) This summer, I get to go to one of my favorite places ever in the name of professional development! California, here I come!

I've blogged about California before. Last year, I thought I'd get to go to Dickens Universe and was disappointed when someone with more seniority ended up going. But, this year, I get to go, and it turns out to be a good thing because the book they're doing is Bleak House, which I'm much more interested in than last year's book, Great Expectations.

I'm also going to spend a few days in Los Angeles doing manuscript research. I love Oscar Wilde's manuscripts so much. Getting to sit there and touch the same paper he touched and see all the doodles he doodled in his margins and see his works develop onto the page as he thought them . . . Okay, to someone not obsessed with Oscar Wilde, all this might seem creepy. But tons of people get super excited about old books, and I never got that. I'm not just touching a notebook that is 125 years old; I'm touching a notebook that belonged to a famous author and playwright. If people can be "normal" and get excited about old books, I can get excited about manuscripts.

(I just realized I based that argument on a theoretical threat of being perceived as creepy. Eh. I'll keep it handy in case someone actually does tell me I'm creepy someday.)

I'm also thinking of going to San Francisco. We only spent one full day there when we went on our crazy, awesome, over-the-top roadtrip, and I'd like to go again. I hear the farmer's market is really great on Saturdays, and I'm sure there's a lot that I didn't see last time I was there. I need to figure out everything cost-wise to see if I could afford it, but how often do you find yourself an hour away from San Francisco?

Ah. I love California. Warmness. Manuscripts. Ocean. Real Mexican food. Real Chinese food. Palm trees. Cool California people. I can't wait.

Why I Watch the Oscars

I'm not sure why I enjoy the Oscars so much when I've usually only seen a small handful of the nominated films. Maybe it's because they make me want to watch movies? My current list of ones I want to watch after tonight includes Iron Lady--because Meryl Streep is amazing and I spent a full week being told what a horrible woman Thatcher was a PM in 20th c Brit Lit, Midnight in Paris--I'm going through French withdrawal right now and am craving all things that have to do with French/France, Hugo, and The Artist. Yes, how haven't I seen The Artist or Hugo yet? I'm not sure.

(To be honest, I wanted to watch all of these already, but tonight reinspired me.)

Other reasons why I think I like the Oscars . . . the pretty dresses. Of course. I like to pretend I'm a fashion expert and give out grades. My all time favorite tonight was Gweneth Paltrow . . .

She's such a classy lady. And tomorrow people might hate on the cape, but I like it!

I also have to admit that I like good acceptance speeches. Ooh, or speeches where award winners point out their moms in the audience. Or just generally nominees who bring their moms to the show. I think that's so sweet. But, anyway, best acceptance speech tonight was Christopher Plummer, classic, sweet, and witty. He started off saying, "I have a confession to make. When I first emerged from my mother's womb, I was already rehersing my Academy thank-you speech. It was so long ago, mercifully for you, I've forgotten it." Then he ended so sweetly: "And to my long suffering wife Elaine, who deserves the Nobel Peace Prize for coming to my rescue every day of my life."

Okay, so those are my Oscar thoughts. I'm thinking that next year I should have a party and make everyone dress up in a fancy outfit.

Love and Suffering

Of all arguments against love none makes so strong an appeal to my nature as “Careful! This might lead you to suffering.”

To my nature, my temperament, yes. Not to my conscience. When I respond to that appeal I seem to myself to be a thousand miles away from Christ. If I am sure of anything I am sure that his teaching was never meant to confirm my congenital preference for safe investments and limited liabilities.…

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.

But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.

C.S. Lewis The Four Loves, (New York, Harcourt, 1960)

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I wish I could be cool enough to say "I woke up this morning thinking about Four Loves and decided to post this awesome quote." Except that I stole it from Desiring God's blog.