She was right

I started a new book today, and I already learned something from it and had an opportunity to put it to practice. I think you should to, because the author was totally right.

Before I share this new life lesson, some context on why this is so groundbreaking for me, less you say to yourself, "Duh," after reading the rest of this post. (I'm talking to you, Sarah. You've taught me this by example a billion times before, but I guess I had to read it in a book. I'm thankful you're not the kind of friend who will tell me you told me so.)

I am, in many ways, a prototype introvert. I not only don't mind extended periods of time alone, I long for them, schedule them, initiate them. I stay up late to delight in the dark, quiet hours, when all the extroverts are asleep and their mouths are uncharacteristically quiet. I over-think human interaction to the point that even a passing hello to a stranger walking by can be overwhelming. It takes significant effort to strike up conversations with strangers, acquaintances and even sometimes friends I haven't talked to in a while.

I an inclined to embrace my introvert, keep to myself and, except for with a small number of close, meaningful relationships, interact as little with others as possible.

But, though I believe God specifically created me an introvert, I am somewhat painfully realizing that the special introvert strengths He gave me were not meant to keep me at home hanging out with me, myself and Netflix. And Candy Crush.

The author of  this book I started today claims that opportunity doesn't knock, it chats. Sure, I thought, for people who chat. 

I love to talk. I talk incessantly to my friends and family - and occasionally the brand new acquaintance who asks me the right questions and asks like they're interested in my answers.

But I don't chat.

Didn't chat.

This book convinced me with a story about a simple encounter in a coffee shop. A woman a table away had an ornate book, and the author noticed and commented on its beauty. The woman smiled, said thank you and explained that her friend had compiled all the posts from her blog into that book coincidentally days before her blog mysteriously vanished from the internet. After the woman left, the author noticed she had left it behind. Knowing how important this book was, the author panicked to try and return it to her. She took what she had learned from the conversation and was able to contact the woman. When the grateful woman returned to the coffee shop, she left a $20 tab for the author's future purchases as a thank you. The author was surprised at the gift given to her for simply doing what she thought everyone should do, so she used the funds to buy lunch for a homeless man who frequented the store and surrounding area. She left instructions with the coffee shop employees to use the rest of the $20 to feed the man when he was there. She also sent a note to the woman, letting her know what good her gift had done.

But, really, the good came from the conversation. A simple interaction between two human beings that happened to sit next to each other in a coffee shop bore so much fruit: food and care for a man in need, a couple points for goodness on humanity's scorecard and inspiration for the masses who will read this story in her book.

She went on to convince me of the power of chat with her finding that life is simply more liveable and interesting when we "have friendly interactions between all the transactions."

I didn't quite know how, but I got a chance to give it a try.

Boyfriend's Brother entered the room with the usual and polite, "Hey, how's it going?" and added, for the season, "Happy New Year!"

"Thanks!" I said, "I'm good, how are you?"

"Good," came the automatic reply as he smiled and started to walk out of the room.

There was a pause as I felt my soul tell my mouth, That's it, huh? 

No, that's not it. "Um, what'd you do for New Year's?" I shouted awkwardly after him. I'll remind you I'm new at this, in case you're over there laughing at my social stumbling ;)

"Just went to the casino. It was kind of lame, I was home by, like, 12:30. What about you?"

Keep your answers short and ask questions, keep them talking, the book had taught me. I love talking about myself, but I remembered that so does everyone else.

"Had some friends over for a fire, but we couldn't because of the rain and snow. Did you get snow over here?"

I have known Boyfriend's Brother for as long as I have known Boyfriend, and though I have spent significantly less time with him than with Boyfriend, it has been long enough to have had one or two slightly longish conversations. This one, though, lasted at least three times as long as all the others put together. Boyfriend came into the room and joined as well. (He doesn't get as much credit, though; he's a natural chatter.) We talked and related, laughed and encouraged each other. We didn't want to leave. Life wasn't just more liveable, it was warmer, more interesting, more enjoyable.

And something happened that doesn't happen often for an introvert: I chatted, and I liked it.

I came home and talked for an hour on Facebook with an old friend, asking questions and discovering that though we haven't spoken in at least a year, we are sharing very similar experiences in our lives. Amy Alkon says something that reminds me of my best friend, extrovert extraordinaire and chat-meister: "You'll never know whom you'll meet, what you'll become to each other or what fascinating, funny or useful things a person can tell you until you crack them open."

I'm not suddenly swayed to the way of the extrovert. I'll never be the life of the party or be able to actively invest in more than a handful of deep relationships at a time. But I've had an admittedly obvious breakthrough. Introverts too can use their powers to interact with people, even strangers. I won't do it the way extroverts do, but that's not what I was made for.

Sunday shout-out: Happy birthday!

We have been Facebook friends since 2008, real-life friends since just after that night I used my braces as an excuse to be shy and introverted, and friends by proxy your entire life and most of mine. I have been so blessed by you over the years and have found many reasons to be thankful for you.

I’m thankful that you have always indulged my sense of humor. You went right along with my silliness and became a fully invested partner every time. Whether it was planning parties (Let’s make confetti go everywhere!) and shows for the parents at your cabin, making up words and organizing them into a dictionary, or staying up until ridiculous hours of the night just to giggle together, you always laughed at my jokes and played along.

I’m thankful for your example. You serve others with a quiet humility, never seeking praise or glory for your actions but keeping them between yourself and God for real recognition from Him that only He may receive the glory. Sometimes I find out about some of the sneaky honorable things you do in quiet, and I am blown away. I want to serve like you, always thinking of others but never about the credit.

I’m thankful for your encouragement. You are one of a faithful few who actually read this blog, and you are so positive and uplifting about it. I don’t write enough, but you affirm me when I do. I can be vulnerable with you – in writing or in person – and you build me up with your reassurance.

I’m thankful for your enduring friendship. You keep inviting me places and sharing your life with me. You’ve shared your table at lunch, a birthday party, and soon a most special day with me. You have seen me through prom dates and breakups, finals weeks and graduations, times I’ve felt lost and all the times in between.

I can’t wait to stand next to you on your wedding day and hear about your adventures across the sea and share more of life with you in the years to come. I’m thankful that we have consecutive birthdays, because it is fun being able to celebrate each other with our overlapping circles of friends.

Thank you for being a friend. Happy birthday!

Saturday Shout-Out: Thank you for living my sticker

I have a sticker on the back of my car that says, "Be Kind," but I don't always live by it. I cut people off, I neglect to use my signal, and I am known to follow too closely. What’s worse, though, is that I see people all the time that need help, and the best I do to help them is think, “Man, I wish I had time to help them,” as I speed by. I'm usually driving too fast to notice someone in need, and when I do I'm usually too focused on myself and where I need to go to turn back and help. Sometimes, to be honest, it's simply because helping is inconvenient and uncomfortable, and I don't feel like it.

I watch you help people all the time, though, whether you feel like it or not. When we're hungry and in a hurry to get some food, you make time to help someone get their car to a gas station. Instead of getting impatient when you're picking me up, you say it’s a good thing you were waiting on me because it gave you time to give someone a jump. You live those words way better than I do, and you don't need a sticker on your back window to remind you to “Be Kind”.  

We were in a hurry today. I made you late, and you were annoyed. You were driving fast and getting frustrated with other drivers. You made a U-turn and pulled to a stop. I was confused until I saw the flashing hazards of the vehicle in front of you. You got out of your truck and spoke for a moment with the driver whose car was stopped in the middle of a busy street. Then you pushed her car off the road, up a hill, by yourself. It took a couple of minutes for other drivers to follow your example, but eventually some got out of their cars and helped as well. 

Every time I see someone walking in the rain or in the heat I want to pull over, ask them where they're headed, and give them a ride even if it’s a half hour out of my way. I did stop for someone one day, shortly after I met you. Her car had overheated and died. A jump didn’t work so I gave her and her baby a ride home. I was so proud of myself it was ridiculous. I called you to tell you the reason I was running late because I wanted you to be proud of me too. That’s not the way it works with you, though, I realized. Today when we were late and your dad made a comment about it, you didn't say why. You didn’t blame me, and you didn't puff up your chest with pride and tell him about the driver you stopped to help. You just said, “Yeah, sorry about that,” and moved on.

I've witnessed many examples of this kindness and humility. You brush off the subject when I tell you how impressed I am by you, how much your selflessness blows me away. You don’t realize that I've watched people preach the words without living them my entire life. Other people with “Be Kind” stickers or K-LOVE stickers or Jesus fishes on their cars, including me, drive by people in need every day. See, I was taught to look to the needs of others instead of your own and to give in secret so that no one but God would know of your kindness and to help people in need, especially when it costs you something. I memorized Bible verses that didn’t encourage such things but commanded them. Yet, I haven't seen many live it out like you do. You are not about the words, you are about truly living the golden rule.

You told me yesterday you try to live by the wise and eloquent words, “No one likes an asshole,” and that you do your best to think about how you would want to be treated and treat others that way in all circumstances. Thank you for trying to live that out. Thank you for thinking of others before and instead of yourself. I’m glad you don’t talk a good talk but that you walk a damn good walk. You've reminded me that it’s not so important to say the right things or to look good to other people but to do good. One of my favorite books is called Love Does, and the author’s simple message to the world is, “Love people. Do stuff.” He talks about how actions are the most important thing about a person and that the world needs more people who, when presented the opportunity to do something good for another person, just do it. They don't weigh the cost or speed by. We need more people like you who take every opportunity to go out of their way for someone else. Thank you for being that type of person. When I tell you you're that type of person, thank you for shrugging it off and acting like it’s nothing but like it's just how everyone should act. Thank you for the example you've set for me and others. Thank you for living my sticker. 

Saturday Shout-out: Thank you for accepting my invitation

Do you remember that day you appeared out of nowhere and I invited you to lunch?

Since then, we have served, cried, danced, and laughed together. You have been invaluable to me in what was so far the loneliest year of my life.

Thank you for understanding me. Thank you for being gracious when you don't understand. Thank you for laughing at my jokes when I am in my weird, silly moods and about to take it just a little too far. Thank you for still laughing when I do take it too far and not turning on me like all the others. (They know who they are.)

Thank you for great memories, for confiding in me, for joining me in adventures, and for encouraging me on my adventures. Thank you for letting me be me and feel what I feel; thank you for being the most supportive sounding board.

Thanks for texting me what you're thinking and not judging me for what I'm thinking.

You are such a beautiful friend, and my life is more beautiful for having you in it. Thank you for the art that you live everyday with your life. Thank you, friend, for painting your love on me <3

And thanks for going out to lunch with us that day and never looking back!

School of Hard Knocks: Singleness

Five things I learned from being single

1. Being newly single is hard at first, but then it's fun.

I remember the exact moment being single went from feeling lonely to feeling actually pretty great. It was a Friday. I had a crazy day, and I was on my way to meet a friend I had plans with when she texted me she couldn’t make it. I sighed and made a U-turn, thinking I would just go home. Something stopped me though, and I thought, Katelyn, what do you want to do? I decided, and then I did it. I didn't have to call anyone to let them know the plan had changed again. I didn't have to make sure anyone else would also think that plan was fun. I didn't have to hold on to this secret idea of I wanted to do and say, "I don't care," when someone asked, for fear of my fun idea looking silly to someone else (see: Lesson #3).

I got to do exactly what I wanted to do in that moment. No one else got a vote, no one else even had to know. So I went, and I sat at the library, and I read a book. Because I wanted to.

Another Singleness is Fun moment I had recently was at a wedding, usually an emotional hell for singles. I sat with two of my favorite married couples and one of my favorite fellow singles. We listened as our married friends discussed when they should leave the wedding, when they wanted to go to bed, and the fact that one usually doesn't go to bed without the other. They weren't fighting or complaining, but it took effort to decide such things. I looked at my single buddy, smiled, and said, "I'm gonna go to bed tonight whenever I want. What about you?" We high fived.

Being married is awesome, I'm sure. Relationships are fun. They offer mutual support, friendship, and love. You have a person. It's great. But singleness is a season that there is a time for under the sun also, and it's also great. Smile, singles. Do something you want to do, and then go to bed whenever you want.

2. I actually am a fun and worthwhile person. Beautiful, even :)

Relationships make it tempting to see the other person as a mirror of your personal worth. You dress up for him or her, but it doesn't mean as much until they see you and tell you how great you look. You tell a joke, but is it really funny if that special person doesn't laugh? You let someone in close to see the real you; it makes sense that what that person thinks of you would hold a lot of weight in terms of how you think of yourself. But that's not a good place to get those self-worth feelings from.

Spending more time hanging out alone has made me come to appreciate myself. My brain thinks of funny things, and they're just as funny when I think of them as they would be if I share them with someone who'd laugh along. I plan fun things to do whether someone else will be there doing them with me or not. I've had experiences similar to the egg tasting scene in Runaway Bride; without anyone to conform my preferences to, I got to learn what I really like. Space to live like I want and make choices that don't effect anyone else solidified things I believe, things I need, and things I want. I'm assuming this information will be invaluable in future relationships.

I also had days where I had to be complete and content on Team Me and God. I had to enjoy existence regardless of who, if anyone, was next to me. And I really did! The days I am most proud of are the ones I wake up and look in the mirror. Hey, I say to myself, you're cute! And I mean it. I look in the mirror and see someone beautiful who I am proud to be, and no one had to tell me that was true for me to believe it.

3. Relationships, even the healthy ones, make people a little crazy.

Your brain chemistry changes when you're in love. I'm not talking metaphorically. The chemicals in your brain literally become different as you react to having a crush, falling in love, and loving someone. They make you feel, think, and act differently. Your brain acts in love like it does on drugs.

I know this because of books about science.

But I know other things from watching people I know be in relationships with each other. A girl asks a boy she is dating to do something for her that she could do herself. Why? I don't know. I've done it. Is it to test their love? Their willingness? Is it because we don't wanna and there's someone who also doesn't wanna but will? I have no idea. But it's funny to watch from the outside. I want to laugh and tell the girl that's really too bad her legs stopped working, when did that happen?

I also watch people I know in relationships with each other be a little bit meaner to each other than they would to their friends. Maybe it's because it's scary to let someone in so close so at times you have to be sarcastic or a little mean to maintain that last bit of distance between you. Maybe it's the opposite - you're so close you let all your filters down and sometimes say whatever thought pops into your selfish, imperfect, human brain. Maybe it's both or either, depending on the day. Sometimes a relationship is just a big pile of not enough and too much honesty, all at the same time.

Two flawed people putting their lives close together is going to be a mess, and people are going to get crazy. I have learned this and tried to prepare myself for when it happens to me again.

4. I can be myself, and someone can like that or not.

I had this idea in my head that I had to act cute on a date. I should think of coy things to say and learn how to effectively bat my eyelashes. In reality, I shouldn't have to act anything. The best dates are when I can just be.

My friend, Ashley, had some good advice recently. I was trying to text back a guy I recently met and was hardcore stressing over punctuation. I go way overboard worrying about grammar in text messages to boys I like. (Will they judge my haha's and lol's? Emojis or no emojis? Wow, I seem to be putting an exclamation point after every sentence… maybe I should take it down a notch. Etc., etc.) Ashley told me to, "Text him like you'd text me." You mean, I can act like this is a human to human interaction and not go insane about it?! (Again, see Lesson #3.) Relax, and be what is normal for you.

If someone doesn't like me when I'm not putting any effort into it, the relationship has no chance. It's wasted effort to act a certain way or tell little lies to seem more appealing on first dates. It's more fun anyway when I don't worry about how I'm supposed to act and I just hang out (or text) as myself.

More importantly, I don't have to take personally any negative feedback I receive for being myself. This is me, and I've already decided I like me. People can act like I'm not beautiful or valuable all they want. The God of the universe says I am, so…

Someone not texting me back or breaking up with me or passing me on Tinder (just kidding, ew) has no impact on the validity of me actually being beautiful and likeable and, dare I say, loveable. It's more important I believe that than anyone else. And, funny thing is, the more confident I am in myself, the more others will think I'm pretty great, too. 

5. I can have adventures all by myself.

I read a book once that implied a man is made for adventure, a woman should wait to have a relationship with a man until after he's lived great adventure, and a woman's greatest adventure will be hookin' her marriage train to a godly man. Well, I will never understand a man's great need for adventure. But I was not given life to live a bland one and wait around for someone to hook on to. I have had some great adventures this year. I've crossed so many things off my bucket list, much because I didn't have to bring anyone with me! Someday, I may have a wonderful husband to adventure alongside. I'm not going to wait for him to come along to get my living in!

If you are reading this and you are single, have fun while you belong to this club! Get to know yourself and don't rush into being with someone just so you're not alone anymore. I always say it's better to be alone than in a relationship and unhappy. As fun as it is to fall in love, adding another person to your mix does not simply make your life better. Figuring your stuff out and learning to love yourself well does. And it will help you when a relationship does come around. It is easy to say and can be hard to do: enjoy your singleness.

If you are reading this and you are in a relationship, the grass is green on your side of the fence, too! Our grasses on our respective sides are equally green! I don't post this to make you envy or wish for singleness. You are learning different things in your relationship than what I am learning through being single. You should blog about it so we can benefit from your wisdom. 

Guess what we get to do today

There's a scene in the movie The Rookie where Dennis Quaid's character is discouraged about his so far frustrating time in the minor leagues so he takes a walk.  He ends up walking past a little league game and remembers what it's all really about.  Back in the locker room, he walks in with restored love in the game and hope in life.  He tells one of his teammates, "Guess what we get to do today.  We get to play baseball." 

I lose track of the great beauty in simple, everyday truths.  I forget what a miracle it is that I exist.  I get caught up in my schedule and my responsibilities, and I forget.  But guess what we get to do today.

We get to be human beings who are self-aware and whose actions can change reality.  Even when it seems like our lives are out of control, we get to decide, for the most part, what our todays look like. 

We get to exist in the twenty-first century with iPhones and computers and wireless internet.  We get to have quicker access to more information that anyone has ever had in history, and we can choose to use these powers for the good of connectivity and community.  We get to have a louder voice and a more accessible soapbox than our ancestors; we don't have to publish our thoughts in books, we get to participate in the ongoing transfer of thoughts, ideas, and information, all the time, whenever we want. 

We get to live on earth.  We get to inhabit the mountains and deserts and plains and forests.  We get to swim in the oceans and lakes and rivers and ponds.  We get to watch the weather and gaze at the stars and climb the rocks and sit under the trees.  The sky turns colors, rivers dig canyons, rain falls, morning comes, birds sing, and we get to witness it all.   We get to breathe the oxygen that trees make for us, for goodness sake. 

We get to coexist with other humans, none of whom are exactly like us.  We get to figure each other out, learn things from each other, strengthen each other, and love each other.  We were born into families to have a shot at belonging from the get-go.  We get to be loved by other humans and accepted by groups and welcomed into tribes.  And even when others don't love or welcome or accept us, our identity doesn't have to be phased one bit because Jesus says we aren't who others say we are; we are who he created from dust and brought into his hope and family and purpose.

We get to open the Word of God and read the history of our faith forefathers, the hope of our good news, and the future of our reality.  We get to rely on the promises of God who gives good gifts to his children and walks with us through fire to refine us into the best versions of ourselves. 

We get to be a part of the body of Christ.  We get to study and worship and work together every day with inspiring people we don't even know, but they have the same mission and life goals as we do: to live and Die for Christ alone and to love others relentlessly. Some of them even die for it, and we get to be a part of all that. We get to be a part of a worldwide movement that started long ago and will never end.

Even on bad days, we serve a God who rebuilds the rubble, who trades beauty for ashes, and who breathed his life into the dust of the ground to bring us into being.  He promises that even when our life is full of garbage, he'll use it for good.  He promises to redeem our mistakes, to change even our past into part of our story for his glory.

We get to be creatures who remember the past, exist in the present, and hope for the future. But we don't have to be prisoners of time, we get to be citizens of eternity. We get to live life to the full forevermore, and we get to share that with others.

Count your blessings, friends.  Take a deep breath, inhale the possibilities, and exhale with hope.  Guess what we get to do today!  

The Vice President of the organization I work for was showing me how to build a PivotTable in Excel. I thought I was proficient in Excel before; now I was learning something I didn't even know I didn't know. I was enthralled. But while I was listening to him explain how to set values and add filters, my brain jumped to a weird place: his small children at home. 

They don't know what their dad does at work, I thought. They don't know any details besides he leaves in the morning, goes to a place called work to do a thing called work, and comes home in the evening. They may be starting to understand that this is a thing some grown-ups do, ideally at least one per family, to make money to buy things, but they don't know that their dad used to work at a famous software company and gave it up to work in ministry. They don't know what a PivotTable is or even what Excel is. They know nothing of this world.

And it clicks in my brain: this is why my idea of adult is so skewed.

I am thoroughly enjoying this book Adulting: How to become a grown-up in 468 easy(ish) steps by Kelly Williams Brown. On the back cover it says, "Adult isn't a noun; it's a verb."

When we are kids, adults are these things that are just around. They're the big people who dress in the crisp clothes and go to jobs to work and feed us and tuck us in. They make food and plan vacations and know how to read chapter books. There is a clear distinction given the fact that, when we are little, we do not know how to cook a meal that involves an actual oven rather than a light-bulb powered one, and we couldn't even begin to organize a vacation. (Once, I tried to "run away". I packed a backpack with my doll in it and a book I liked and went into the backyard until someone noticed. No one noticed, so I came back inside. I was "away" for maybe five minutes.)

We didn't see them become grown-ups, they just were grown-ups because they knew more things and seemed to have stuff pretty well together most of the time. Grown-up seemed like a noun. 

The noun adult idea was reinforced by the most popular question I remember anyone asking me: What do you want to be when you grow up? What do you want to be. Noun.

This idea assumes that when I grow up I will be something. I will have a job presumably, a career hopefully (when I was around 6, I wanted to work four part time jobs: mermaid, dental hygienist for the elephants at the zoo, professional singer, and ballerina). There seemed to be a moment in time I should aspire to, when I grow up. There would be a time before it happened and a time after it happened, and afterwards I would be something.

Fast forward to December 2012. I am graduating from college. I sit through this ceremony and think, Is this it? Is this… grown up?  But I don't have a fancy job or even an idea of what I'd like to be. Is school really over? Is this real life?

My parents are proud, my best friend is excited, but I am lost and sad. Is not-grown-up-ness gone now? Must I start to be something? But what will I be? How will I decide? Does the fact that I haven't decided mean I've already failed?

It took me a year and a half to finally realize what is stated so simply on my new adulthood guidebook. Adult isn't a noun. It's not something I become one day or wake up as, as if the adult fairy will leave a career under my pillow. It's not a place I arrive at or a thing I turn into. It isn't a what or a who, a when or a where. It's a do. It's a happening. It's a verb.

Class of 2014, maybe you are excited this week as you finish classes and accomplish a college degree. You darn well should be excited and proud, too.  You did an amazing thing, you worked hard, and you and your parents just bought the most expensive piece of paper you will ever own. Wear an over-sized robe and a silly hat and show off that piece of paper.

But maybe like me you also have some emotions floating around in there that you didn't expect to feel. Maybe you feel nostalgic and oddly sad that you will never again turn in a paper or sit in those desks with the ridiculously tiny writing spaces. Maybe your time in school since kindergarten flashes in your mind like a movie montage and you think, Is this it? It's really over? Maybe you feel lost and scared and a little like you don't want to be a grown-up after all. No one told me this, but those are okay emotions to feel during this time as well. 

Relax a little, though, because you don't have to worry anymore about getting to some strange land called Adulthood. You will never arrive, you will only journey, and it's only tiring if you don't enjoy the ride.