Home is where...

Hello, old friends!

If you've spent any time with me in person lately, you've probably heard me mention (okay...probably whine about) having to switch my license and car tags to Georgia. I may or may not be slightly sentimentally attached to my home state, so it's been an interesting experience to give up the paper trail that connects me to it. But, the deed is done. (All it took was essentially daily texts from Mom "encouraging" me to get my butt to the DMV. Sorry for the foot-dragging, parents...) Madame Blueberry is officially a peach, and I've got the driver's license to match!

Considering the places I've lived since college, the past handful of years adds up to, more specifically, five states in four years. On one hand, this bouncing around has been a blessing. I've gotten to know some wonderful cities, and through their differences and similarities they and the people in them have allowed me to grow in my understanding of myself and of other people. On the other hand, I very much look forward to an eventual day when I can again have the chance to make more long-term connections to one geographical place.

These days it's awfully tricky to answer the question: "Where are you from?" I don't feel like it's totally honest to simply answer "North Carolina," seeing as it's been a while since I really lived there. But I also don't feel right simply saying "Georgia," because Decatur is still only a small part of my story. It usually goes something like this: "Well, I'm originally from Davidson, North Carolina (but I was born in Ohio). I went to school in South Carolina, and I also worked at a camp in western North Carolina. But then I lived in Nashville and New Orleans with a volunteer program. Now I'm in school near Atlanta."

North Carolina will always be home. But I will also feel at home in Greenville, in Nashville, and in New Orleans. After some time adjusting, I'm claiming Decatur too.

So what does "home" even mean, if I feel like all of these places are still holding little (or huge) parts of me?

Home is where your family is, whether that family is defined by blood, a summer camp, a school, or a volunteer program.

Home is where you can be challenged, and challenge some things yourself. 

Home is where you grow.

Home is where you sit at table with others.
Home is where you care and are cared for.
Home is where you have a favorite coffee shop.

Home is a noun, an adjective, an adverb, and a verb. (Really.)

Home is where you can make mistakes.
Home is where there are second chances.

Home is where you live.

Home is where you love.

So, friends, here's to having long answers to "where are you from?" And here's to finding homes wherever we go.

Love,
Allison.

I may claim more than one state these days, but...belated birthday present, anybody?

Grains of Sand

Hey there, friends, and long time no talk!

My apologies for the blogging absence. I know you've just been on the edges of your seats, dying to know when I'd post something new. (...Right?) As it turns out, they like to keep you kind of busy at seminary. I'm hoping at some point to share, here, some of the (what I think is) cool stuff I've been learning and thinking about here at CTS. But for now, here are some continued thoughts on life after YAV.

As part of YAV orientation each year, new volunteers are invited to get their craft on and create a bookmark. (Or, rather, decorate a pre-cut piece of card stock destined for a protective plastic sleeve. Shiny tassel included.) Markers and stickers abound as each person leaves a bit of his or her identity on a little paper rectangle. Later in the week these bookmarks are piled in a basket, and during a worship service each participant is again invited to take part, this time by picking up someone else's bookmark from the basket. Essentially, we took our new bookmarks with us as we scattered across the world, agreeing to pray for and think about the brother or sister whose bookmark we held.

In theory, our bookmarks' journeys are completed when they are returned to their creator at Transition Retreat in New Mexico. Logistically, this doesn't always happen. Bookmarks get left at placement sites (guilty) and lost amongst luggage, or people aren't able to miss work or school to travel to Ghost Ranch. Life happens.

But when I went to New Mexico back in September, I got my bookmark back. And stuck in the little plastic sleeve, along with the flower stickers and Mumford & Sons lyrics I left there more than a year ago, are grains of Guatemalan sand. I might not have even noticed them if the lovely keeper of my bookmark hadn't pointed them out on our way back to the airport (thanks, Kristi!). But sure enough, they're there.

You know how when you go to the beach the sand gets everywhere? You shower and do the laundry, but there's inevitably still a grain or two or ten in your hair, or in your pocket. A few weeks later you get out the bag you used and unexpectedly it dumps leftover sand all over your floor. A water bottle rolls under your passenger seat months after your beach trip and as you retrieve it you feel the grit of a few long forgotten grains of sand in your hand.

I think that's a little bit how my experience as a YAVA will be. It's been about five months now since I lived in New Orleans, and a good 16 or so since I lived in Nashville. In some ways it seems like I was in both of those places yesterday, and in others it seems like it's been about 8,000 years.

Just when I think I'm on to the next thing--when I'm sure I've dealt with those two years' challenges and embraced their happy memories--I find more sand in my proverbial backpack. A friend who still lives in New Orleans will post a picture of one of my favorite places or things, and I'll realize how much I miss it. Hurricane Isaac hit in August and I was glued to my computer's weather page. I catch a glimpse of the Bluebird on a commercial for that new show Nashville, and I realize how much I want to go back and visit. I think about my experiences in both of those places and realize to what an incredible degree they have shaped me and the path towards some sort of ministry that I am now pursuing. Do I know exactly what that journey will end up looking like? Of course not. But I know that the past two years are a huge part of the reason I'm here, I know that a handful of YAV(A)s are one of my biggest support systems, and I know that I'll probably be finding assorted grains of sand in my bookmarks and backpacks for a long. time. And you know what? I'm okay with that.

Love,
Allison.

The House(s) That Built Me

Well friends, I'm home. In Davidson. My year as a Nashville YAV is officially and totally over. I don't think it's really sunk in yet...seems like when I leave in less than a week I should be heading back to Nashville instead of New Orleans. (But that having been said, I'm still super stoked about heading to the Big Easy.)

In other news, my last weekend in Nashville was filled with Furman friends, due to a wedding in town. It was sort of odd, Furman people in my YAV town. But it was also so so wonderful. Most of my friends at this wedding I've known for five years. Which is crazy, if you ask me, that it's already been five years since I started college. But anyway. Despite the fact that I only really got to spend a handful of hours with most of these folks, the day reminded me of how much I truly love them. And despite the fact that I haven't seen most of them since either homecoming in October, or since graduation more than a year ago, we could still sit around and talk just like when we were in Greenville. I'm not the best at regularly talking to people that aren't in the same place as me (oops), but maybe this weekend has made me a little more motivated. 

After the wedding, one of my Furman roomies helped me pack up my stuff and kept me company for the 7.5 hours from Nashville to Davidson. After some coffee and thrift store shopping the next morning, I drove her back to Greenville. I remember thinking, when I went to homecoming, that it was weird being in Greenville and not being a Furman student. It's still just as weird. But we got dinner in at my favorite Greenville restaurant, did some bowling, and had breakfast at another favorite eatery of mine. Then it was back to Davidson for me, where I've gotten to spend some time with high school friends, and I've even seen a couple camp folk. At some point I s'pose I should unpack and re-pack so I can leave on Tuesday. But that's besides the point.

The point is that all this hopping around and seeing all these different groups of friends is that I know some pretty stellar people. The friends I made in middle school, now we can go with our moms to trivia night at the wine room. The friends I made during those oh-so-important college years are still people I hold close to my heart, and the camp friends that gave me a faith community I didn't even know I needed will forever be a part of my life. Then here come the YAV friends, from Nashville and soon from New Orleans, that have transformed me even more. 

On my drive back from Greenville a Miranda Lambert song called "The House That Built Me" came on the playlist I was listening to (a year in Nashville'll do that to ya). If you haven't heard it: in it Miranda Lambert talks all about a childhood home and how she's trying to find herself again, there. I don't feel so much like I need to re-find myself in the five days I have left in Davidson (five days! AH!), but I do think that all of these places I've met my friends (and family) have a large part in who I am today. And whether or not I talk to all of those people on a regular basis, that fact will always be true. I really don't think all the rambling in the world could express how truly thankful I am for that. 

Thanks anyway, though, dear friends and family, for being the houses that built me. Let's stay friends, yeah?

Love,

Allison

Obligatory End-of-Year Thoughts

Well friends, I'm officially not a Nashville YAV anymore. Mary Kate and Beth are both moved out so it's just me in the Shed, and depending on the day this week there are only two or three left in the Cabana. It's weird, to have a two-thirds-empty house. And it's weird that less than a week from now I'll be home, getting ready to move to New Orleans.

I don't really think it's sunk in yet. I mean, the fact that it's the end of the year, but also I don't think the majority of my year has sunk in. Of course I could tell you plenty of wonderful things about this year...that it helped me decide to go to seminary in a year, that it gave me priceless experience in campus ministry and that I've gained a handful of really wonderful friendships that I'm sure will be life long. Not to mention my knowledge of Nashville coffee shops. (For a few more, scroll down and read the reflections I shared at 2PC on YAV Sunday.) But my guess is that over time other really important things about this year will sink in. We'll just have to see how that unfolds. 

I've been thinking about (and talking about, to some fellow YAVs) how it seems like every time I make good, close friends, it's time to move somewhere else. Now I now that's mainly my doing, seeing as I keep making relatively short-term commitments, and I knew the end of this year was coming. But I think it really started sinking in, when I was sitting in the Shed alone yesterday. It's not like I'll never talk to my fellow Nashville YAVs (or former Nashville YAVs? Woah.) again. Of course I will. And I'm so so excited to go to YAV orientation again and make new YAV friends there and in New Orleans. But I guess it's still just something I've struggled with a lot this year. On a slightly similar note, though, there are a handful of other YAVs doing second years, so I'll know some people already when I get to Stony Point this time around! 

I hope this all didn't sound to whiney. I really am excited. Just starting to process that YAV round one really is over. And no doubt I'll have plenty to say about this year even after I get to New Orleans. But for now, on to the next adventure! 

Still a few more days left to enjoy Nashville, and this Saturday I'll get to see some of my very best friends at a Furman wedding right down the street! 

Love,

Allison

It's already time to reflect on my YAV year?!

Today was YAV Sunday at 2PC, so in addition to putting together the liturgy and picking the music for the morning, Mary Kate and I shared some reflections during the sermon time. Below is what I said, more or less. Some of it's been written on this blog before, some of it's new. (If you've been reading this blog or talking to me with any regularity over the past year you can probably just skip the first paragraph.) All in all I think this morning went really well...and I really don't think I'm ready to leave in two weeks.

For those of you that like listening more than reading, you can hear our sermon here. To just read my half:

For those of you that are visiting, or who I may not have had the chance to meet, my name is Allison and I am one of the Young Adult Volunteers (or YAVs) that has spent the past 10.5 months living in what is lovingly known as “the Toolshed,” just on the other side of the playground. In addition to worshiping here at Second and getting to know the fantastic city that is Nashville, TN, I’ve spent my time this year working for the Presbyterian Student Fellowship at Vanderbilt and Belmont Universities. PSF, as it’s also known, strives to give students an opportunity to experience Christian community through weekly worship services, as well as through mission experiences and fellowship events. It’s been a whirlwind adventure of sorts, learning the in’s and out’s of campus ministry. Not having been involved in any religious groups during my time as a student at Furman University, I jumped rather blindly into a year of setting up projectors and tables of name tags, of going to movie nights, tie dying, hosting Room In the Inn, doing flood relief work here in Nashville and drinking countless cups of coffee. Throw into that mix a handful of other opportunities, like speaking at Presbytery, preaching at PSF, and attending a gathering of the synod’s campus ministers. All of those things and a host of others have been the puzzle pieces of my year as a YAV. 

One of those other pieces of the PSF puzzle was spending most Tuesdays serving lunch for Isaiah 58, which is a part of Belmont Church’s outreach to Nashville’s homeless population. I started going every week as a PSF missions event, in hopes that students would join me. Sometimes one or two actually would, other times it was just me, but either way it was always a great part of my day. One Tuesday back in the fall, I met a woman who was also volunteering. In the process of getting ready to serve the meal for the day, as we were pouring water and tea, she said: "You know, this is what we can do for others. We're pouring ourselves out, pouring God's love out." 

And there it was. All that meaning crammed into a few glasses of ice water and sweet tea. I couldn’t help but wonder, during the many times I’ve thought of that conversation since it happened, what it means exactly to pour oneself out. To pour God’s love out. 

I think it can often show up in subtle acts of kindness and caring, and in things that may not seem as blatantly faithful as Sunday school or a Bible study.

As part of our weekly worship at PSF this year, once each month we would replace the sermon with a different type of spiritual practice. One of the last spiritual practices of the year was Sabbath. On that particular Tuesday evening, we gave students the opportunity to do one of several activities, from walking in Centennial park to baking cookies, to watching an episode of Modern Family. After that week at PSF, several students expressed their thanks for the space and time in which to experience some Sabbath. Sabbath, is, I think, a spiritual practice that is often overlooked, especially in college as exam season looms just over the horizon. So perhaps things as simple as some chocolate chip cookie dough and a walk around the Parthenon can be an outpouring of God’s love.

The text from Romans for this morning talks about the members of creation in this period of anticipation. Waiting for freedom from bondage and waiting to be adopted into this family made up of the children of God. It says “and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, and the redemption of our bodies. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” 

“We, ourselves who have the first fruits of the Spirit.”

The fruits are already there, it’s just that, in the process of this adoption, we can figure out how to translate those inward fruits into our outward lives. I read in one interpretation of this scripture, that as we are adopted as children of God we gain an entirely new identity. And much like the peace of Christ that we shared earlier this morning, these new identities of ours are not easy, insignificant, or half-hearted. 

They also probably aren’t obvious. So patiently we wait, going about our lives trying to pour out examples of God’s love, in whatever form that happens to take. We can’t always see the results of our efforts, but we try anyway, we hope, and we wait. It’s not always easy but here we are, an assortment of the children of God, living in hopeful anticipation that this ever-changing new identity will form our lives and maybe the lives of others.

One interesting part about being a YAV in campus ministry, is that come mid-May,  a good 2.5 months before the end of our YAV year, the school year ends and the vast majority of our students leave for summer break. While I’ve managed to have several coffee and frozen yogurt appointments since the end of the school year, this summer I was given two weeks to do greater service the the church, one of which I spent as a small group leader at Montreat Conference Center’s high school youth conference. During youth conference high schoolers from all of the country converge at Montreat for a week of energizers, keynotes, worship, and small group discussions. For a total of three hours each day conferees meet in small groups to process the morning’s keynote, play some games, and further explore the day’s scriptures. Having never been to a youth conference before, I’d be lying if I said I was totally confident going into my first couple small group sessions. And for most of the week, the feedback I’d received about how our small group was going was pretty much limited to things like “that activity was pretty fun” or “really? another name game?” It seemed like things were going well though, and the conversations had been great. Each time we gathered--25 high schoolers, one adult chaperone and me--the conversations grew more meaningful, and I was amazed by the willingness of most of my group to share their personal thoughts and experiences. From youth who go to church every week by themselves because their families just aren’t into it, to children of church leaders who aren’t sure they even like going to church in the first place, there were all sorts of faith journeys represented. During our last meeting together, we ended our week by writing affirmations on a piece of paper for each member of our small group. After a group picture and some frisbee throwing, small group number 53 disbanded and went our separate ways, and it wasn’t until later that I got around to reading my piece of paper. But when I did, four simple words stopped me in my tracks. 

There I stood on the last day of week 2 of the Montreat Youth Conference, and in teal Crayola marker staring up at me from the page was the assurance that I had been looking for. Just four words.

“God pours through you.” 

To read that these youth--or at least one of them--had experienced God in our time together was truly a blessing. 

My brother asked me on the phone the other day to sum up my year in six words. I quickly told him that was impossible. Maybe with a substantial amount of thought I could do it, but I haven’t attempted to tackle that yet. I remember being at YAV orientation at the beginning of this year, reading the YAV slogan--A year of service for a lifetime of change. I didn’t really doubt the truth of that phrase, but I was eager to see the ways in which I would be changed this year. 

Here I faced the challenge of being farther away from my friends and family than ever before, but I gained self-assuredness and a handful of friendships that will, I hope, be life-long. I faced the challenge of a job that I was entirely unfamiliar with, but gained a year’s worth of priceless experience and relationships. I faced the challenge of brown recluse spiders, and gained the ability to be fine with all of those non-poisonous bugs that bothered me before. The list goes on, but in all seriousness I think it’s safe to say that those YAV tshirts and water bottles are right on--this one year of service has certainly changed my life.

Next year I will continue my journey as a YAV, this time working in a hospital chaplains department in New Orleans. Some challenges will stay the same, some will be added--being even further away from those friends and family, fundraising all over again, having a completely different job...in their differences though, I can only hope that these challenges will be equally rewarding. 

And I want you all to know, in case you haven’t been told or even if you have, that God pours through you. Through this congregation, through your welcoming Mary Kate and I into your community, and through all of the things that each of you does every day.  God pours through you.

The response and support we got after the service was really heartwarming, and made me even more thankful to have been a part of 2PC this year. It seems a little bit crazy that it's the end of the year already, and that two weeks from now I won't be a Nashville YAV anymore. Granted, I'm super excited about getting a totally new YAV experience in New Orleans, but I don't feel like I'm quite ready to give up Nashville yet. But here I go, jumping off the Nashville cliff into another unknown...we'll just see what happens! 


I read a Bible verse on camp's Facebook page (don't judge) yesterday that I feel like speaks to the YAV experience quite well. I'll leave you with that...

‎You are a letter from Christ written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.

2 Cor. 3:3

Love, 

Allison

On the road again...

Come Saturday, I'll be heading back to the homeland (aka North Carolina) for three-ish weeks. I'm fortunate enough to have two weeks of "service to the greater church" built into my job description, largely because of the fact that most of PSF's students are gone for the summer. Workin' my way down I-40 I'm going to lead a small group at the Montreat youth conference next week, then a few miles down the road I'll spend a week volunteering at camp. After that I'll be using my remaining vacation days to go on a family reunion in Michigan.

I've realized that I have really mixed feelings about these upcoming adventures. Don't get me wrong, I'm eagerly awaiting rounding a curve on the interstate and catching my first glimpse of the North Carolina mountains, and getting to spend two weeks there. And I genuinely enjoy spending time with family (which I count as a major blessing). But I've also become quite attached to Nashville. And the other day I realized that, taking into account my upcoming traveling, I essentially have one month left in Nashville. One. That's not very long. At all.

And things will be different this time around, in the mountains. Montreat is familiar enough, but this will be my first time at a youth conference and I'm responsible for a small group. My only time spent at camp has been when I was on staff (not counting the half-week I went for way back in like 1995), and this time I'll be just a volunteer for the week. Seven days is a lot less than two months.

Adding to the strangeness of this year's camp experience, today I learned that camp's Site Supervisor (aka Maintenance Magician) passed away last night. Besides the fact that I'm pretty sure Dennis could fix anything that broke ever, he always just drove camp from project to project in his red truck waving and smiling and making friends. Surely something will feel a little off at camp this summer. For a long time probably, because Dennis, if you ask me, is a pretty irreplaceable person. Dennis, if you're reading blogs up there in heaven, we love you and we'll miss you so much. Thanks for being a wonderful person and for everything you did for camp. And to whoever happens to read this: please just keep Dennis' family in your thoughts and/or prayers, and throw a few prayers in the direction of the Camp Grier family and this year's summer staff as they start the summer off on this sad note.

All that said, as I mentioned in the beginning I think I'll still love my time in North Carolina and Michigan...I just didn't anticipate having such mixed emotions, I guess. Someone told me once, just a few weeks after I'd moved here, that I would fall in love with Nashville. And I'm fairly certain he was right.

We'll see how it goes, this processing that's going on right now. Not being ready to leave, but knowing how important to me the places I'm visiting are. Maybe I'm just getting ahead of myself, too. I do have all of July and a week of August to soak up Nashville after these upcoming adventures...

Love,
Allison

Provocative Hope

Today I tagged along with Jennifer as "the intern" to a meeting. This particular gathering was a group of clergy who work in West Nashville. They were coming together to discuss beginning a group of people of faith to organize as a community and fight against various problems they see in Nashville. Homelessness, food deserts, speaking out against bills up for vote on Tennessee's capitol hill, you name it.

The most magnificent thing about this, however, is that these clergy included Christian ministers, Jewish rabbis, and a Muslim imam. Women and men, different races too.

Here we are in a world where some people think it's okay to burn a Qur'an (I mean really?), where sometimes women still get paid less than men, and where racism is still alive and well. But here is this group, truly trying to grow with one another.

I'm sure there are plenty of people that disagree with this union, and plenty of people that would not be not willing to engage in what I think are essential interfaith experiences. To each his (or her) own, but I really believe that there is so much to be learned from people of faith whose traditions are different from our own. And to be learned from people not of faith, for that matter. I am by no means saying we should drop everything and change our whole belief systems. I'm still Christian. But I cannot bring myself to automatically condemn someone just because he or she doesn't like Jesus as much as I do. We're all people, and we're all on the journey, longing for something to guide us as we stumble through this crazy world. These opinions of mine are in all likelihood largely because I have good friends that subscribe to a multitude of religions (and who have varying degrees of aversion to religions in general). But those are

It is so so inspiring to me to see God at work in Nashville and in this group I witnessed this morning. Sure, people in the room disagree on some major issues. But the fact that they are willing to take the first step in putting those aside (for now) to be able to address issues they can agree on is a lovely thing, and I find it encouraging that it seems I'm not the only one that thinks so. One woman at this morning's meeting described the fact that this kind of meeting was taking place as "provocative and hopeful." I don't think I could've said it better. It's pushing the boundaries, doing something unusual. But however small it begins, hope is there too, for a dialogue of faiths that everyone can benefit from.

Love,
Allison

This is weird.

It's weird that last night was PSF's last worship service for the year.

It's weird that that means last night was my last worship service with PSF.

It's weird that the students I work with are leaving in a matter of weeks.

It's weird that I feel so supported and loved by those people, though I see most of them only on Tuesday nights.

It's weird that Nashville feels like home.

It's weird that my days of actually living in Davidson are over.

It's weird that I think that makes me kind of almost a grown up.

It's weird that the people I love are so spread out.

It's weird that I know for sure where I'll be next year. 

It's weird that my plan for after that is finally coming together.

It's weird that I think I'll end up attending more Holy Week services this week than I have the past four   years combined.

It's weird that I've been alive for 22 Easters and this is the first time I feel like I've really, truly paid attention to the days that lead up to them. 

It's weird that I want feathers in my hair. (Seriously.) 

Weird is a weird word. 

But I think weird is good.

PSF still has one more week of hanging out, but our end-of-year festivities will be at Jennifer's house next week so last night was our last evening at St. A's. Seriously, when did that happen? It's weird (yeah...that word again) that in my head I've been saying there are a few more months left in this year. There are, technically, but things will change after Vandy's graduation. Most of the people I've gotten to know will be going their separate ways, back home or off to a summer job or a different new adventure. A couple months after that I'll be off on my own new adventure (more on that later). But it's strange for these end-of-year things to be happening a good while before the end of my year. It's lovely though to think about the connections I've made at PSF, and the community that I at least feel like I'm a part of. Like for example. During worship last night there was a part where myself and a senior who will be a YAV next year went up front and Jennifer prayed for us, while everyone else came forward and laid a hand on us. My eyes were closed and my back was to most of the folks there...so, I don't know whose hands were whose, but I felt like they meant it, you know? Whatever "it" is in a laying on of hands. It's such a supportive and loving community here, and even though we met just seven-or-so months ago, it's real.

There was a lot of emotion in the air last night in general. Not only was it the seniors' last worship service with PSF, but in observance of Maundy Thursday we had our own little foot washing during worship. All this thinking and talking about servanthood and humility, added on to the end of end of the year. There may not have been tears or outward displays, but the emotion was almost palpable in the air. And powerful too, at least for me.

All this talk of new adventures, and I haven't blogged about my plans yet, at least in any detail. Official news (that has already been shared with the Facebook world): I'm going to New Orleans next year! Though I don't know what my specific job will be yet, I've officially accepted a placement in the Big Easy for, as fellow YAV Emily calls it, some "YAV double dipping." The plan is to spend the year further discerning what I feel is a call to go to seminary. Figuring out where to go and what in the world to do with that theological education. So we'll see where that step takes me, but at least I've got a place to live next year!

Love,
Allison.

Belonging

Well friends, I've been thinking about Nashville a lot lately. The end of my year here is in sight (three and a half months is at the same time a good while and not long at all), and I keep thinking about how much I'll miss it. I'll save the rest of the I'll-miss-you-Nashville talk for July, but I've realized recently that Nashville finally feels like home. I mean, it's not home home, but this feels like my place, you know? Finally I know my way around (ish), and can tell you (sometimes) the different names that one single road is called by my house, by Vandy, and downtown. Sometimes I even know a back way to go if the traffic's bad. I walk into PSF Tuesday nights and know names and maybe even a few life details of most if not everyone in the room. I look forward to TOT on Thursday nights because I think I can even call the folks there my friends. There are friends I've made at Isaiah 58 when I serve lunch there (almost) every Tuesday. That's not to say I don't miss people or places, and that I don't worry about the approaching inevitably transitional years of my life. (I talked about that in my sermon at PSF that you can find in the post right before this one.) The point is, right now Nashville just feels right. I'm good here. One of my fellow YAVs mentioned once how it feels as though little pieces of our hearts are with certain places and different people...and I just really feel like for a long while Nashville will have one of those pieces of mine.

Life as a tourist...

One of the advantages of having your parents come visit you in a city they've never been to: they want to do all the fun touristy stuff you haven't had the chance to do yet! (And, while our somewhat humble YAV stipends are actually plenty to live on so long as you're intelligent about it, it was still nice to be taken care of for a few days.) So if you haven't figured it out by now, the lovely Margo and Dave Wehrung were here this past week, and we sure packed in the Nashville experiences. Here's the list...with pictures!

Tuesday night:

• firstly Mom and Dad got to experience the excitement that is PSF on Tuesday nights. :)
• Live music at the Bluebird Cafe (we saw Marshall Chapman and Will Kimbrough...neither of which I had heard of before, but both of which were great!) 

Wednesday:

• Lunch at Tootsie's Orchid Lounge, complete with live music, "world famous" barbecue (the menu said so...), and maybe a fermented beverage or two. 
• Some wandering around the Bicentennial Mall, admiring the capitol building and the nifty map of Tennessee that's in the ground (turns out I know more about Nashville than I thought...I could actually tell my parents what things were!). This was in lieu of a more exciting activity that was supposed to happen but fell through...but it was nice, anyway!
• Chihuly at Cheekwood = some of Dale Chihuly's awesome glasswork on display outside in this botanical garden...we walked around during the day and saw it in the light, then saw it again once it got dark! 
• Deeeelicious dinner at the Germantown Cafe.

Thursday:

• tour of the Ryman Auditorium, which has a bunch of really cool history that I didn't know until now! Still kind of bitter I'm not seeing the Avett Brothers play there this weekend, but one day...one day I'll see them live!
• tour of the Parthenon in Centennial Park. I'd been around the outside several times, seeing as the park is right across the street from my office, but it turns out there's an art gallery or two inside, and a giant statue of Athena. I mean, who doesn't need a lifesize replica of the Parthenon in their city? Totally normal, right?
• Annnnd then Mom and Dad came to TOT with me.

And that, my friends, is probably the busiest 2.5 days I've had since I moved here. I don't know, maybe not, but it's definitely in the running. Here's the photographic evidence for those who are interested...

Lunch at Tootsie's

Bicentennial Mall

Chihuly

Mom and Dad

Being good tourists at the Ryman

Athena's nobody to be messed with...

So there ya have it, my past week. I didn't realize how much I'd missed having close friends/family around, so it was a good few days. Hiking with PSF today, and some Halloween festivities later...then playing handbells in church tomorrow morning. Life in Music City continues!

Love,

Allison.

Weekend Happenings

Hey friends!

Some fun stuff happened this weekend, so I thought I might share them with those of you who are interested enough to be reading this blog...nothing too intense in this post, just some weekend happenings. :)

So there's this First Friday service at Christ Church Cathedral downtown that happens every (you guessed it...) first Friday of the month. It's an Episcopal church that puts on this monthly service for the community. In place of a sermon, each month there's a different...expression of faith, I guess you could call it. We YAVs have gone both first Fridays we've been in town, and it's been really great. The free wine and snazzy cheese hors d'oeuvres that happen afterwards may or may not be extra motivation to go, but it really has been a cool experience. The first time we went it was Labor Day weekend, and the "sermon" was a local group performing songs from the musical Working, about different professions. This past Friday there was some liturgical dance goin' on while a woman read something having to do with creation. I can't remember what exactly the reading was adapted from, but it wasn't biblical...just kind of having to do with a vague spirituality and the interconnectedness of things. I liked it. There was also a lady that, throughout the service, was working on a chalk drawing at the front of the sanctuary. It's the kind of worship service that's just different enough to be refreshing, but not so unfamiliar that you're made uncomfortable by it. That's not to say that getting out of your worship/religious comfort zone is always a bad thing, but you get the idea. I also like that all of us can go together. I've really loved being at 2PC, but worshiping with all seven YAVs is pretty lovely too.

Saturday was such a lovely day. Started off hiking at Radnor Lake with Vic and a new friend, Kenna. It was far from a super intense trail, but it was wonderful to spend more time outside in the fall weather. (And hey, the trail went uphill some!) We saw a few deer chillin' out right off of the trail, and later some wild turkeys (one was eating a snake...cool stuff). Here are a couple pictures of the lake...

After hiking and some chill time in the Shed (as in Toolshed/my house), I went with Mary Kate and her friend that was visiting to a cultural festival in Centennial Park. Las Paletas (seriously, best popsicles you'll ever have) had a stand, and I decided to try out the hibiscus flavor. Kiiind of worried it'd be like eating a flower, I decided to try nonetheless. It was kind of odd, but good! And I mean hey, how many times do you get the opportunity to try a hibiscus popsicle?

Post-park-wandering, it was back to the Shed for a while, then we YAVs headed downtown towards Broadway, where we found a trailer park themed bar, and, including at the karaoke place where we ended up, about 2039842 bachelorette parties. Quite the entertaining night, and quite the excellent weekend.

Love,
Allison.

Settling in in Music City

Hi friends!
Since we got back from New York the seven of us Nashville YAVs have been orientating here in Nashville. Some more sitting down stuff, plus going around and seeing the agencies where we'll be spending the year. I still only know where a handful of places are, but eventually I'll figure it all out. Apparently Nashville is designed in a circle, not a grid. Hm. Anyway, we went on a scavenger hunt of sorts around town yesterday, so here are a few pictures for those of you who may care to take a gander...

Nashville YAVs at the Tennessee state capitol. (I know we're tiny but that's Beth, Sally, Michael, Emily, Vic, Mary Kate, and yours truly.)

Country Music Hall of Fame (It's supposed to look like piano keys and a radio tower, if you're like me and needed someone to tell you that...)

LP Field, home of the Tennessee Titans (on the Cumberland River)

This morning we worshiped at our churches for the first time. Mary Kate and I will be hanging out at Second Pres for the year, and met some lovely people this morning. The plan is to check out Shakespeare in the Park tonight, and tomorrow there's a Labor Day cookout in the works for the Nashville YAVs and YAVAs (YAYAs = YAV alums, of which there seem to be quite a few in the area). Then Tuesday we all start our jobs, so I'll update you all again after that!

Love,

Allison.

"I would drive 500 miles and I would drive 500 more..."

Ok so maybe it wasn't exactly 500 (almost, though!), and maybe I'm not too keen on driving that far again, but I made it to Nashville! I live in the "Toolshed" with two other girls and so far things are going just swimmingly. Beth and I have a room together, and our other roommate is Mary Kate. We've got a little kitchen too, and a living room. Eventually we'll (hopefully) figure out how to work the wireless in our humble abode, but for now we're chillin' in McDonald's. We leave tomorrow for Stony Point in NY for a week of YAV orientation, then back to Nashville we'll come, to have a little bit of orientation here, and then to start our jobs! So far I think it's shaping up to be a lovely year. :)

That's all for now, friends.
Love,
Allison