There is now only one 4,000-word essay comparing Thucydides and Herodotus' views of democracy standing between me and freedom! I CAN do this. Of course, so far, I have done absolutely no work on this last obstacle, but I'm sure I will....soon. It's just that I am hopelessly immersed in the Christmas spirit, and all I really want to do is curl up by a roaring fire with a good book, hot chocolate, and a Christmas tree twinkling in the background. I'm tired. For the past few days, I've mainly just been hanging out with people and resting my mind. I raced hard to the finish on Thursday, preparing my last two tutorial papers and attending my last two tutorials. I will miss them, and yet I am unbelievably relieved. On Thursday night, we had our Univ. College Choir Concert (Handel's Messiah) at University Church...ahhh it was so nice to finally perform something this semester. I dearly love singing. Of course, I got stuck behind a huge head of hair and could barely see the conductor, much less all of the SCIO people that came out to support us. But, it was fine. I sang my heart out anyway:). Then we went to our choir party to have mulled wine (mmmmm) and mince meat pies (eeewwww) and, once more, were off to the King's Arms for drinks with a bunch of people. My schedule is so completely off now that I (nor anyone else in the Vines) go to bed around 5:00 or 6:00 am and don't get up until the afternoon. Which can be rather depressing since it now gets dark here around 4:00 pm, and waking up late equals on a few hours of daylight. I pretended to do work most of today and then went to the Angel and Greyhound with Alyssa, Ashley, and Sam...fun times. We drank up and played Trivial Pursuit. And now, for probably the majority of the past 5 hours, I've been in the kitchen talking. Actually, mostly just laughing.
Life here is good. And life at home is good. How does this work?
I wish I appreciated people more. Sometimes I love them, and sometimes I really can't stand them. That's my 6:30 am epiphany. Astounding profundity, I know.
Friday 30 November 2007
Thursday 22 November 2007
a thankful heart
Happy Thanksgiving!
The number of things I have to be thankful for wouldn't fit in the pages of all the books in the world...And that is probably the only superlative comment I have ever made that is utterly, completely true. God has given me so much, shown me so much, and used me so much. Any complaints on my part are empty, nonsensical things.
If I just think of what God has done in my life over the past year, I am speechless. He's provided for me to go to China to spread the gospel and to come to England to learn in a stimulating environment. He's protected Mom from a serious disease, and is protecting Joshua right now as he is fighting in Iraq. He's handed an amazing, fairy-tale home to Mom and Dad, and provided for all seven children's schooling in ways that still bring tears to my eyes. He is a God that loves to give to His children. I have a loving family and wonderful friends, a church that preaches the Word, and a mind that yearns to know more. Thank you, Father.
This is the second Thanksgiving in a row that I haven't spent with my family, which is a little sad...but, we are having TWO Thanksgivings here! My food group is combining with another one tonight to have a yummilicious Thanksgiving feast, and then Saturday our entire program is joining together in a day of American festivities. Today has been a great day. Not necessarily because anything went particularly well, but because I've had real contentment all day. This strangely objective calm has come over me. My Classics tutorial with Jonathan this morning was a little more enjoyable as a result. It's not that I don't find Propertius and Cicero very interesting (the opposite, in fact), but I never feel adequately prepared to discuss Classics in general - something in which my abilities are extremely immature. I wanted to try something new in coming here, though, and that is exactly what I have gotten. My ego has been smashed to bits and then trampled upon, but I think I've developed a thicker skin. The original goal?? Er, well.....no. But rarely do I know what's best for me. My history tutorial is quite interesting, and, therefore, I think I'm cut out for a more straightforward academic journey. However, amidst all of these conclusions, I had an even larger epiphany today: God does have a plan for me, and I must be prepared for it to be different from mine. Perhaps I am not cut out for the purely academic life of which I have always dreamed. Why should this deter me in any way from continuing life at full speed? The key to life, I'm finding, is a mixture of flexibility, drive, and ultimate dependence on Providence.
My comfort is that He will use me, no matter what. I am His, and He is mine. My mission on earth is to glorify Him, and He will inevitably shove opportunities for me to serve Him in front of my wandering feet. There is no way I can leave this earth with a life unfulfilled.
That said, what do I do now? This semester has been stimulating, inspiring, and hopeful, while at the same time mortifying, painful, and a little embarrassing. Ahhh, why are joy and difficulty always mixed? I love learning, and this is an amazing environment in which to fulfill that desire...but I've also been rather mediocre at everything I've put my hand to. At first, I was angry at myself, but now I see that perhaps I wanted myself to fit in a certain box - a box that's maybe too small or the wrong shape. I've made choices in my life that have made me, in a word, a dabbler. I like to try my hand at numerous things, which is great fun...but the difficulty is that I don't really, truly excel at anything. I could cry and get depressed at this realization, or I could move on, resolved to find my niche, while keeping in mind my circumstances. And that is what I propose to do.
I'm about to graduate, and I enjoy so many things, I don't know what one thing is for me. But maybe I shall proceed to smash the stereotype of having that "one thing." Either way, I am content.
And very, very thankful.
The number of things I have to be thankful for wouldn't fit in the pages of all the books in the world...And that is probably the only superlative comment I have ever made that is utterly, completely true. God has given me so much, shown me so much, and used me so much. Any complaints on my part are empty, nonsensical things.
If I just think of what God has done in my life over the past year, I am speechless. He's provided for me to go to China to spread the gospel and to come to England to learn in a stimulating environment. He's protected Mom from a serious disease, and is protecting Joshua right now as he is fighting in Iraq. He's handed an amazing, fairy-tale home to Mom and Dad, and provided for all seven children's schooling in ways that still bring tears to my eyes. He is a God that loves to give to His children. I have a loving family and wonderful friends, a church that preaches the Word, and a mind that yearns to know more. Thank you, Father.
This is the second Thanksgiving in a row that I haven't spent with my family, which is a little sad...but, we are having TWO Thanksgivings here! My food group is combining with another one tonight to have a yummilicious Thanksgiving feast, and then Saturday our entire program is joining together in a day of American festivities. Today has been a great day. Not necessarily because anything went particularly well, but because I've had real contentment all day. This strangely objective calm has come over me. My Classics tutorial with Jonathan this morning was a little more enjoyable as a result. It's not that I don't find Propertius and Cicero very interesting (the opposite, in fact), but I never feel adequately prepared to discuss Classics in general - something in which my abilities are extremely immature. I wanted to try something new in coming here, though, and that is exactly what I have gotten. My ego has been smashed to bits and then trampled upon, but I think I've developed a thicker skin. The original goal?? Er, well.....no. But rarely do I know what's best for me. My history tutorial is quite interesting, and, therefore, I think I'm cut out for a more straightforward academic journey. However, amidst all of these conclusions, I had an even larger epiphany today: God does have a plan for me, and I must be prepared for it to be different from mine. Perhaps I am not cut out for the purely academic life of which I have always dreamed. Why should this deter me in any way from continuing life at full speed? The key to life, I'm finding, is a mixture of flexibility, drive, and ultimate dependence on Providence.
My comfort is that He will use me, no matter what. I am His, and He is mine. My mission on earth is to glorify Him, and He will inevitably shove opportunities for me to serve Him in front of my wandering feet. There is no way I can leave this earth with a life unfulfilled.
That said, what do I do now? This semester has been stimulating, inspiring, and hopeful, while at the same time mortifying, painful, and a little embarrassing. Ahhh, why are joy and difficulty always mixed? I love learning, and this is an amazing environment in which to fulfill that desire...but I've also been rather mediocre at everything I've put my hand to. At first, I was angry at myself, but now I see that perhaps I wanted myself to fit in a certain box - a box that's maybe too small or the wrong shape. I've made choices in my life that have made me, in a word, a dabbler. I like to try my hand at numerous things, which is great fun...but the difficulty is that I don't really, truly excel at anything. I could cry and get depressed at this realization, or I could move on, resolved to find my niche, while keeping in mind my circumstances. And that is what I propose to do.
I'm about to graduate, and I enjoy so many things, I don't know what one thing is for me. But maybe I shall proceed to smash the stereotype of having that "one thing." Either way, I am content.
And very, very thankful.
Tuesday 20 November 2007
tick tock
My attempts at the academic life have long been mistook for actual intelligence. Often, I feel as if this is something to be confessed, but I realize that if this is the verdict to which people come then it is really no business of mine to shatter their ill-founded perceptions. They are welcome to believe what they will, and I will happily go on living my lie of a life.
Every once in a while, though, the facade slips, and I have to own up to my failures. The facade seems to be slipping often here in Oxford. Oh yes, my way of life is even possible here, but the overwhelming amount of brilliant minds here certainly creates obstacles. You see, sometimes I fool others so well, that even I start to believe that I have truly formidable intellectual abilities. But Oxford has succeeded in cruelly ripping these fallacies from my clenched fists, and I can only shake my head in wonder that I ever looked up to myself so. This has shaken me. My deception is becoming more and more transparent, and sometimes, when the quizzical brows of my tutors lift even higher and their eyes glint with mischievous understanding, I want to whisper to someone, "They know!"
My cover has been blown, but I've enjoyed my double life while it lasted.
Every once in a while, though, the facade slips, and I have to own up to my failures. The facade seems to be slipping often here in Oxford. Oh yes, my way of life is even possible here, but the overwhelming amount of brilliant minds here certainly creates obstacles. You see, sometimes I fool others so well, that even I start to believe that I have truly formidable intellectual abilities. But Oxford has succeeded in cruelly ripping these fallacies from my clenched fists, and I can only shake my head in wonder that I ever looked up to myself so. This has shaken me. My deception is becoming more and more transparent, and sometimes, when the quizzical brows of my tutors lift even higher and their eyes glint with mischievous understanding, I want to whisper to someone, "They know!"
My cover has been blown, but I've enjoyed my double life while it lasted.
Monday 19 November 2007
dripping with sarcasm
Rain, Rain, go away....actually just don't.
Come again...
We have actually been blessed with amazing weather for this fall in England. Apparently, it normally rains every other day and is generally wet and dreary. But, to the amazement of forecasters, the weather has been beautiful! This week contains a few of the rare, rainy days, though...and I feel like complaining. I have no rainboots and one of the girls lost my umbrella on our Rome trip. Thus, I am as unprepared as they come. When rain comes, it rules. I didn't even go outside today, although I had big plans for going into town to get some work done. The pitter-patter never stopped, and I simply couldn't bring myself to face it. Especially after Sunday. Miriam and I rushed out of the house in the morning to the surprise of...you guessed it. Rain. We both tried to fit ourselves under the hopelessly tiny circumference of her umbrella, but, eventually, we succumbed to the inevitability of wind, rain, and puddles. Enormous puddles. We wrapped our heads up with our scarves, which, we realized upon walking into church, had only succeeded in making us look like ridiculous mummies on our walk and made our heads and scarves wet. I shivered through the entire sermon because my socks, shoes, and legs were soaked, and my hair was plastered to my head. Just thinking about it makes me laugh...I looked ridiculous:).
*sigh* Guess what's on the forecast for tomorrow?
Sunday 18 November 2007
perpetually bittersweet
It's just that time of life...
...or so I thought until mine and Miriam's final philosophical conclusion concerning the life of the young adult the other day. We agreed that everything seems bittersweet: leaving experiences, entering new ones, going home, or embarking on yet another adventure. There is always a little sadness mixed with excitement. This feeling seems perpetual, and the difficulty is that I don't believe it will ever go away. I don't remember feeling this way when I was a child...everything was all bitter or all sweet. No awful limbo. But perhaps with more and more knowledge and maturity we find ourselves at an eternal, emotional crossroads...Too dramatic? Perhaps. But that is certainly the way I feel right now. I only have 3 weeks left in Oxford with these people in this experience, and I mourn. Yet on the other hand, the thought of home and familiar faces and normal life is lovely. Ahhhhhh paradox.
So, yes. Only three weeks left. And, to be terribly cliche, I really can't believe how time has flown! My tutorials are going fairly well, although I don't know if I am cut out to be a "classicist." My secondary tutorial on the French Revolution is much more straightforward, and I am beginning to like it very much. In other news, I am no longer rowing. That lasted until the beginning of 5th week, but then a girl didn't pass the swim test and, because of that, an entire crew can't compete in the Reggata. Football has been fun, but it's only on Saturdays. Last game, I had the most proper, British squabble on the field over my original intentions in kicking a girl's shin instead of the ball. Fun times.
Thanksgiving is this week!!! I just think it's absolutely hilarious to be celebrating a holiday in Britain that commemorates our freedom from the British. Oh irony:). This week has been lovely, and, for all of my stress beforehand, Thursday was probably the highlight of the week. I had two tutorials: the first went alright, and the second was great. Inbetween, had coffee with Bethany and we laughed for a few hours instead of studying. Afterwards, I mailed loads of postcards, and then met Miriam at Frewin. We went from there to Summertown to meet Edith for dinner (a Spanish lady in our home group), and met Paul and his son Richard (probably my favorite British kid) on the bus. Seeing familiar British faces on the bus just gave me a sudden sense of belonging. They told us where to get off, and we found our way through the dark, cold night to a cozy flat at the top of a manse. Edith is sooooo sweet, and we had the best time! She cooked us amazing food, and we sad in her little kitchen alternating between laughing hysterically at British culture and intently discussing the Christian life. When Miriam and I left, we felt literally drunk with happiness. We made loud, obnoxious comments which scared random British people as we laughingly stumbled home. And then when we came to the large, open gate of Headington Hill Park, the macabre darkness seemed to beckon to us. We gripped each others arms and "forged ahead" (our new quote that applies to pretty much everything;), whispering creepy stories and sporadically shrieking. It was great. We finally got home to the twinkling warmth of the Vines, and burst in happily to tell everyone about our day. I almost feel like everyone here is family now. I mean, I'm certainly not at the same level of friendship with every single person, but I do feel a sort of camaraderie with everyone. And yes, I love them all:). Yesterday, I walked through Magdalen College (pronounced "Maudlin" if you want to be considered posh) with Anna...breathtakingly gorgeous. If I ever came back to Oxford, I would want to attend Magdalen or Christ Church, simply because of their beauty. What an academic inspiration;). Then we met up with Miriam to walk through the Botanic Gardens...we even stole some little cinnamon sticks ornaments from their Christmas tree. You know, something to remember Oxford by. Then Elaine and I went to a sinister play entitled "The Duchess of Malfi," and I rushed home afterwards to cook for my food group: chicken curry and rice, broccoli, bread and carrots with hummus. Pretty good if I do say so myself. And I do...
In other news, I'm going to be an RA in Gillespie next semester. The offer has really been an answer to prayer, and even though it would not have been my ideal situation a few weeks ago, I think it is perfectly what God has for me. I desperately want to look forward to going back to Belhaven, but the brilliance of this "term" overshadows it completely. That will work out in the end though, I'm sure.
Tea, anyone?
...or so I thought until mine and Miriam's final philosophical conclusion concerning the life of the young adult the other day. We agreed that everything seems bittersweet: leaving experiences, entering new ones, going home, or embarking on yet another adventure. There is always a little sadness mixed with excitement. This feeling seems perpetual, and the difficulty is that I don't believe it will ever go away. I don't remember feeling this way when I was a child...everything was all bitter or all sweet. No awful limbo. But perhaps with more and more knowledge and maturity we find ourselves at an eternal, emotional crossroads...Too dramatic? Perhaps. But that is certainly the way I feel right now. I only have 3 weeks left in Oxford with these people in this experience, and I mourn. Yet on the other hand, the thought of home and familiar faces and normal life is lovely. Ahhhhhh paradox.
So, yes. Only three weeks left. And, to be terribly cliche, I really can't believe how time has flown! My tutorials are going fairly well, although I don't know if I am cut out to be a "classicist." My secondary tutorial on the French Revolution is much more straightforward, and I am beginning to like it very much. In other news, I am no longer rowing. That lasted until the beginning of 5th week, but then a girl didn't pass the swim test and, because of that, an entire crew can't compete in the Reggata. Football has been fun, but it's only on Saturdays. Last game, I had the most proper, British squabble on the field over my original intentions in kicking a girl's shin instead of the ball. Fun times.
Thanksgiving is this week!!! I just think it's absolutely hilarious to be celebrating a holiday in Britain that commemorates our freedom from the British. Oh irony:). This week has been lovely, and, for all of my stress beforehand, Thursday was probably the highlight of the week. I had two tutorials: the first went alright, and the second was great. Inbetween, had coffee with Bethany and we laughed for a few hours instead of studying. Afterwards, I mailed loads of postcards, and then met Miriam at Frewin. We went from there to Summertown to meet Edith for dinner (a Spanish lady in our home group), and met Paul and his son Richard (probably my favorite British kid) on the bus. Seeing familiar British faces on the bus just gave me a sudden sense of belonging. They told us where to get off, and we found our way through the dark, cold night to a cozy flat at the top of a manse. Edith is sooooo sweet, and we had the best time! She cooked us amazing food, and we sad in her little kitchen alternating between laughing hysterically at British culture and intently discussing the Christian life. When Miriam and I left, we felt literally drunk with happiness. We made loud, obnoxious comments which scared random British people as we laughingly stumbled home. And then when we came to the large, open gate of Headington Hill Park, the macabre darkness seemed to beckon to us. We gripped each others arms and "forged ahead" (our new quote that applies to pretty much everything;), whispering creepy stories and sporadically shrieking. It was great. We finally got home to the twinkling warmth of the Vines, and burst in happily to tell everyone about our day. I almost feel like everyone here is family now. I mean, I'm certainly not at the same level of friendship with every single person, but I do feel a sort of camaraderie with everyone. And yes, I love them all:). Yesterday, I walked through Magdalen College (pronounced "Maudlin" if you want to be considered posh) with Anna...breathtakingly gorgeous. If I ever came back to Oxford, I would want to attend Magdalen or Christ Church, simply because of their beauty. What an academic inspiration;). Then we met up with Miriam to walk through the Botanic Gardens...we even stole some little cinnamon sticks ornaments from their Christmas tree. You know, something to remember Oxford by. Then Elaine and I went to a sinister play entitled "The Duchess of Malfi," and I rushed home afterwards to cook for my food group: chicken curry and rice, broccoli, bread and carrots with hummus. Pretty good if I do say so myself. And I do...
In other news, I'm going to be an RA in Gillespie next semester. The offer has really been an answer to prayer, and even though it would not have been my ideal situation a few weeks ago, I think it is perfectly what God has for me. I desperately want to look forward to going back to Belhaven, but the brilliance of this "term" overshadows it completely. That will work out in the end though, I'm sure.
Tea, anyone?
Sunday 4 November 2007
all we need is love?
I don't understand it. Love, that is. When I breath in the cool, crisp air as I walk through this picturesque city, I feel a sort of romance. When I drink in the final pages of a good Victorian novel, I begin to comprehend a little of devotion between the hero and heroine. When I see a couple laughing and holding hands, I glimpse - just glimpse - this thing they call "love"..but I don't understand it. And I don't think I ever will.
Why is love as essential to people as water? Some acknowledge this need with an annoying desparation, while others fall into its rhythm naturally. And then others of us (as you can see, I speak for myself here) shrug off expectations and proceed to feel comfortable living independently. The prying of relatives and the felling of friends by Cupid's arrow only serves to strengthen our resolve to move through life...not without love - that is not the point - but without fear. What a silly thing to waste time upon! All of the time that people spend looking frantically for this elusive "love", it seems to me, could be much better spent on productivity. No, I am not hardened to any romantic longings...who is that resolved? But, life does not revolve around love. Or does it? Why is that, so often, a relationship seems to be for people the light at the end of the tunnel? Isn't the tunnel much longer than that? I certainly hope so!
My thoughts are so jumbled and inconclusive and really not worthy to put down, but it's been on my mind. Forgive me, starry-eyed lovers...I don't want to seems callous.
Maybe this is the danger in turning 21 without knowing what love feels like.
Why is love as essential to people as water? Some acknowledge this need with an annoying desparation, while others fall into its rhythm naturally. And then others of us (as you can see, I speak for myself here) shrug off expectations and proceed to feel comfortable living independently. The prying of relatives and the felling of friends by Cupid's arrow only serves to strengthen our resolve to move through life...not without love - that is not the point - but without fear. What a silly thing to waste time upon! All of the time that people spend looking frantically for this elusive "love", it seems to me, could be much better spent on productivity. No, I am not hardened to any romantic longings...who is that resolved? But, life does not revolve around love. Or does it? Why is that, so often, a relationship seems to be for people the light at the end of the tunnel? Isn't the tunnel much longer than that? I certainly hope so!
My thoughts are so jumbled and inconclusive and really not worthy to put down, but it's been on my mind. Forgive me, starry-eyed lovers...I don't want to seems callous.
Maybe this is the danger in turning 21 without knowing what love feels like.
Saturday 3 November 2007
exhaustion
this may have been the longest week...ever. i guess that's the way one is probably destined to feel when, in one week, said person decides to go for a whirlwind weekend to Ireland, turn 21 (wait, i guess that wasn't MY decision), write two papers in a night and attend two tutorials the next day, take one's body to its physical limits (rowing and football), and still have some sort of life. i laughed so much this week, though. that's how i tend to react to anything approaching stress, exhaustion...yes, hilarity ensues. but i had an immense amount of good fun this week too. yay. i like it here. time to go to bed...
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