Afternoon Tea: Growth

I really want this t-shirt.

This weekend has been incredibly needed. As the blustery wind blew and the sleet iced over the entire town of Abilene, I shut myself into my apartment with my roommate and Netflix for company. We made one trip early yesterday morning to the grocery store to stock up on coffee, soup, and a box full of thirteen glazed donuts and upon returning to our place decided that we would stay inside for the rest of the weekend. After doing a bit of reading for one of my classes, I justified curling up inside five blankets and watching Dr. Who for the next few hours because of the hour I had spent 'studying'.

Is reading your Bible in an intriguing and enjoyable fashion really considered studying? 

Apparently, and these are the moments when I love my major. Sometimes I've got a lot to do, think about, and study. Other times it's a simple reading of the text, and those times are my absolute favorite.

Anyway, at the end of the day I had successfully watched three episodes of Dr. Who, the Emperor's New Groove, She's All That, and two episodes of New Girl.

I'd eaten three glazed donuts.

Gotten a bit of exercise in (texting counts, right?).

And, to quote one of my dear friends, 'the most productive thing I've done all day is taken a shower'.

Oh man, those Saturday mornings of rest.

My roommate and I had a wonderful time together, and among other topics our conversation turned to growing up and how hard it is. We both realized that the weekend was a blessing in disguise, because firstly we both needed to stop the glorification of busy and secondly it gave us sweet time together. Being a junior (almost a senior-eep!) I'm looking into applying for graduate school in the not-so-far off future (aka next semester), and it seems as if I am constantly reading for this class and preparing for that one. Megs is getting ready to apply for law school which means intensely studying for the LSAT, and both of us have enough homework to keep us occupied for the rest of our lives seemingly. Add into the mix discipleship, our church communities, our family priorities, paying bills, and various other commitments and we're practically grown-ups.

Oh yeah, and then there's that twenty-first birthday coming up.

How is life so fleeting? Three of my best friends have weddings in their near futures, and I feel as if only yesterday I was ordaining the marriage ceremonies of my barbies.

Where does time go?

If you know me well, then you know I am terrified of growing up. I honestly wish I could live like a five-year-old forever.

Disney movies taking up my time.

Running wild until I fell asleep.

Catching fireflies being my biggest responsibility.

Some days I wish I could simply sit on the side of a mountain and paint every view of nature before my eyes, conversing with the Lord and soaking in His sweet presence, away from the harsh world and its demanding voice that screams at people to be strong and busy and responsible and smart and constantly thriving on productivity and success and knowledge.

I've always naturally gone against cultural expectations, anyway, so living in a society that glorifies business has always been like trying to canoe upstream.

Growing up I would build forts in my grandma's living room and pretend to be a Native American. I don't think she knew how serious I was about that life. Picking berries, building campfires, running around barefoot, climbing trees, and living in a teepee? Sounds great.

Then in high school it was the hippie phase, when my friends and I would spend weekends at each others houses laying in the grass and playing the guitar, harmonizing with one another and discussing our plans to build a real-life version of Rivendale and live in community together for the rest of our lives (we're weird and we like it).

Then came college, and all of a sudden life's rumors became realities. Finding time to paint became a challenge. Making time for rest became a task. The concept of growing up reared its ugly head and quite honestly God and I wrestled with this truth for my life for quite some time.

The thing is, I haven't yet figured it out. I like to think, however, that some light has been shed on it.

God's taught me that growing up isn't quite as terrifying as I used to envision it to be in my head, because even if it's hard, even if it hurts, and even if it falls apart sometimes there is one constant variable through it all: God is good.

He's the Great Teacher, holding my hand and teaching me to paint the canvas of my life. He's the Great Physician, picking me back up when I stumble. He's my Biggest Fan, cheering me on as I run the marathon that travels from childhood into adulthood.

He's teaching me to walk the balance beam. I'm called to be productive but I'm also made for rest. I'm meant to be silly but at times I need to be serious.

He's reminding me to daily dance with wisdom but to also simply thrive on innocence.

He's showing me that life is damn hard, but that doesn't mean it's all bad. Walking through life and all of it's demands and struggles only produces perseverance and character within me, and as I experience more of this life and engage with other people around me I learn how to better love. I learn how to navigate the world. I learn how to live.

Peter Pan didn't grow up, and he may have had fun, but he sure missed out on a lot.

Wintery days that force you indoors to rest are good. Most days, though, we've got to keep trekking up the mountain. Life is beautiful, and we are meant to live it. We're meant to climb. We're meant to stumble and fall and get right back on up.

The thing is, remaining a five-year old sounds awesome in theory. In practice, however, I think many elements of life would be missing. Everyone would be immature. No one would be responsible. We'd all be incredibly selfish.

Growing up is called growing up for a reason: because it grows you.