On Worrying and Failing

Hey again, friends!

As a lot of you know I've spent the last week at YAV orientation in Stony Point, New York...and it's been an interesting time (even besides the earthquake and the hurricane). I feel like I'm just now starting to process a lot of last year, and suddenly I've found myself thrown into an entirely different community surrounded by entirely different expectations. Orientation is largely full of potentially intimidating talks on globalization, culture shock and living in intentional community (including tales from YAVA facilitators), and it can be overwhelming even the second time around.

During our opening worship service last Monday, the YAVA (aka YAV alum) that was preaching asked a question. What if we are called to fail? That's not an easy question. But YAV years aren't perfect. And we all fail some time or another. Not always in huge catastrophic ways, but it happens. And what if those happenings are so essential that they become part of our calling? The YAVA continued by asking: what if we aren't supposed to be "successful" yet? Whatever successful means, what if we aren't supposed to get it right yet?

During one of our workshops on communication, we were asked to get in smaller groups and write down three things we worry about, each on a separate card. Things about our year, about life in general, about whatever.  After we wrote our worries down, we shared them with our groups. This was hands down the most difficult part of the week, for me. To write down things that truly, deeply worry me, and to say them out loud...that was hard. And by "hard" I mean my hand was physically trembling as I put the paper down on the ground. I've got to say that that surprised me a little. Sure I knew I had worries, but I s'pose I'm just pretty good at not thinking about them too much. As it turns out though, despite our apprehensions about the exercise, every single person in my little group had at least one worry in common, if not more.

It all got me thinking about how many of my worries are tied to last year, or at least affected by last year. I didn't have a whole lot of blatant outward struggles last year, but I think I'm starting to realize what a huge impact last year really did have on me. I think I'll continue to realize that over the course of this year and afterwards, especially as I head to our YAV re-entry retreat with last year's YAVs at the end of September (more about that when the time comes).

While it was truly a blessing to find solidarity with worrying friends, it's also been rather intimidating to realize just how unsure about this year I am. I'm sure that I'm supposed to be here. And I'm sure that I'll grow as close to some of these new friends as I have to those I met last year. But I'm not sure what working in a hospital chaplaincy department will be like, except that it will probably be one of the more challenging experiences of my life.

So probably I'll fail. Certainly I'll worry. It'll take a while to get to know New Orleans and to really get to know my fellow YAVs. It'll take a while to figure out how to work in a hospital. It'll take a while to figure out exactly what's next. YAV years (and life in general, I s'pose) aren't always full of rainbows and glitter and warm fuzzies. Sometimes it's hard, and I'm not sure I've talked a whole lot about that here.

All this isn't to say that I disliked my time at orientation, or that I'm not excited about this year. It was still a fantastic week full of new relationships and new ideas, and I still maintain that singing in a room full of YAVs is one of the most powerful forms of prayer I have ever experienced.

Even as we stumble through our lives worrying and failing, surely we'll pick up little tidbits of grace and assurance too. Learning from our failures hopefully we'll figure it out eventually. And maybe some of our worries will come true, but in those worries we are most certainly not alone, friends.

Love,
Allison

Here We Go Again...

Hey friends!

I made it to New Orleans today, for YAV round two! All my stuff is in my new YAV home, but I'm in a hotel room with Mom right now, before I take her to the airport tomorrow morning. Luckily I'm blessed with a good mommy that is able and willing to drive with me. 729 miles, 13 hours, and 20 police/trooper car sightings later, we're here in Louisiana! And by the wonders of a smartphone we even got to enjoy a Spice-Girls-inspired channel on Pandora for part of the drive. (And by "enjoy" I mean I thoroughly enjoyed and Mom so kindly tolerated.)

Tomorrow most of the other YAVs arrive, and the day after we start our New Orleans orientation. Then on Monday we jet off to Stony Point for orientation with everybody else.

There's a playground pretty much in my backyard again, but the house itself is quite the change! So far seven people will be living there...two floors, a porch, a balcony, and Mardi Gras beads still stuck in the tree out front.

More on New Orleans and orientations to come!
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

Wisdom on the Radio

Despite 11 months in Nashville, country music still isn't my favorite. I don't mind it, and I can sing along with my fair share of songs now. And I mean I do go to the same coffee shops as Taylor Swift. Just not at the same time...sigh.


Anyway I was driving back to the Shed tonight and this song came on the radio...turns out in between all the singin' about heartbreak and such, there's some good stuff in country music. Honestly I couldn't tell you a single other thing this Lee Brice character sings, but "Love Like Crazy" is what came on. And I just like the chorus a lot. So to tide you over while I work on some sort of end-of-the-year blogging, think about this...

Be your best friend, tell the truth, and overuse I love you
Go to work, do your best, don't outsmart your common sense

Never let your prayin' knees get lazy

And love like crazy

Now, other best friends are good too. And hardly ever to I actually kneel to pray. But still. Love is good, yeah? 

Until next time,

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

Living In Hope

This past Sunday was a big day for the PC(USA), friends. On Sunday Amendment 10-A officially went into effect (along with another amendment changing denomination's Form of Government). I've written about 10-A before, but in case you missed it, check out this post for some links to basic info and other people's thoughts. Also as I've mentioned before, 2PC is a More Light congregation so naturally folks were pretty excited on Sunday. The sermon, given by two people with strong ties to 2PC and 10-A, was absolutely wonderful, and full of emotion and courage. You can listen to it here if you're interested.

There was a lot of talk about how we need to get rid of the barriers we humans have built up--that those barriers were destroyed when a certain friend of ours came along (you may have heard of him...went by the name of Jesus?). And I couldn't agree more. I mean, whatever higher power you believe in (or don't believe in), I just don't think we're all meant to be separated and hating on each other. I was struck by the beauty of communion on this particular Sunday morning, and yet again by how beautiful a thing a community like Second can be.

Maybe everybody in the room isn't sure how they feel about 10-A, or how they feel about whatever other issue is at the forefront of discussion. Maybe everybody in the room is struggling with different things--money, family, what the heck they'll be doing a year from now...

Maybe everybody in the room has a chance every Sunday morning for all of those things to not matter.

You might as well just take the maybe out of that last sentence. Here we are this collection of people, young and old, employed and jobless, strong in our faith or questioning. But it doesn't matter. Come communion time, just forget those divisions and go on up there and get yourself some bread of life!

At some point during the service we heard the phrase "live in hope." I'd be lying if I said I could remember where (sermon, a prayer...who knows. Sorry!). But those words stuck with me. Sitting there in the pew I thought about the difference between what it might mean to be hopeful, and what it might mean to live in hope. I s'pose we can be hopeful without really making that much of a commitment. I'm hopeful that test turns out well, I'm hopeful that boy likes me...whatever it is. You hope it works out, but maybe it's not the end of the world if it doesn't.

But to live in hope! To give your whole life to being hopeful. That is something different. To constantly be hoping for a more loving world, to be hoping that things will get better, to be hoping that every single person can find a place where they are loved and accepted for being just who they are, whether that's in a church community or elsewhere.

So, I think I'll try and live in hope, friends. I'm living in hope that God will continue to move through the YAV program, through 2PC, through the greater church and through the world. Not sayin' I'll be perfect at it. But if anything's worth a little effort I figure this is.

Love,
Allison

PS- Apparently, as I've been informed, "Live In Hope" was the last hymn of the morning.

To Tide You Over

Hey friends,

I'm working on another blog post or two about my time away from Nashville, but in the mean time...

Pepsi has this "Pepsi Refresh Project" they do, where they give out grants for people doing good stuff. While I am admittedly a Coke girl through and through, this is still pretty cool. And my roomie's placement here in Nashville has their very own idea. Beth works at Nations Ministry, and they're trying to buy a van to take their kids home after tutoring and such (instead of staff using their personal cars, which as I understand it is what currently happens).

SO. All you have to do is go here, sign in, and vote. You can vote every day for the whole month of July. And you can sign in with your Facebook info, so there's no need to make up/remember a new password, etc.


If you want to learn more about Nations, check them out on Facebook, Twitter, or here at their website.

To read more about Beth's experiences this year at Nations, click here for her blog.

Vote away, my minions! I mean...blog readers...

Love,

Allison.

Down In the Valley

My oh my has it been a busy two weeks, friends!

First, I left Nashville a couple weeks ago and headed for Montreat to lead a small group during the second week of this summer's youth conferences. Just like college conference back in January, this was my first youth conference at Montreat. Not on purpose really...we were just always busy when my church's youth group went. But, anyway. It was such a wonderful experience. I spent 3 hours a day leading a small group of 26 high school youth. Some discussion of keynotes and such, some just hanging out and having fun, some eating Dunkaroos (thanks, Black Mountain Dollar General). And as it turns out spending a couple summers as a camp counselor is excellent preparation for small group leading. Seriously though, I met so many wonderful/enthusiastic/inspiring youth, and on top of that met some awesome fellow small group leaders, made some YAV connections, spent some time with friends from Davidson, and got my fill of energizers (not that there's such a thing as too many of those...). And I mean, I tell ya. These conferences I keep going to keep directly applying to my life. Wondering Wanders? Searching For the Signal? Sheesh, Montreat.

From there I headed down the road to camp. Camp was...so so wonderful. But weird. Wonderful to see many of my close friends that are still on staff there, but weird to not be on staff with them. I was one of the first aid folks for the week, so I didn't get to do a ton of camp-y stuff, but I did have a thoroughly entertaining sea weed (or...lake weed?) battle with some 8 year olds in canoes on Lake Refuge. And I learned a new blessing. If you're interested in blessing your food a la Sponge Bob Squarepants, you just let me know. It really was wonderful though. Lovely to see the people I already knew and fun to meet some new ones. Hard to leave yet again, but I've got some more thoughts on that coming later.

Annnd approximately 7 hours after I got home to Davidson from camp, Mom and I were on our way to Ohio, from whence we'll be heading to Michigan tomorrow. I was telling my mom in the car ride up here that I feel like a lot of great/difficult/meaningful things have happened in the last two weeks, but I'm not quite sure I've had the time to process it all. So, we'll see what ends up on this here blog in the coming weeks. There's the last two weeks, and then the fact that when I get back to Tennessee in a week I'll have just one more month left in Nashville. After that, a week and a half in Davidson and it's off to New Orleans! I s'pose one day maybe I'll be in one place for a while...

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