Thursday, June 30, 2011

Dear attacking demon: You will not win. Sincerely, God (and Linley)

You know in old cartoons where the character has the little angel and little demon on either shoulder, encouraging whoever to go one way or the other?

I think that those cartoons weren't too far off.

Except I think that the angel is our moral conscience guided by God and the little demon is our inherent human side guided by the Devil. Allow me to explain myself using a little help from my youth minister (hi Rich) and the great and wise C.S. Lewis.

The book The Screwtape Letters has been recommended to me and mentioned in front of me countless times. C.S. Lewis is one of my friend Sarah's favorite authors. He's brilliant and witty and, above all else, a Godly man. Of course, he's dead now, but still. I'm a huge fan.

Anyways, the premise of the story is that Wormwood is a demon who is assigned just your average dude to tempt. His sole job is to keep his man away from God using various psychological methods and playing on every aspect of his life. Wormwood is writing letters to his wise and learned uncle, Screwtape, who is giving him advice on how to keep the man away from God.

The creepy part? The man is scary similar to me. A Christian who is a part of the modern world. And his temptations could very well be my own. Even 30 pages into the book, I'm being convicted and wrapped in this story. Wormwood is using different ways to keep the man from praying, like convincing the man that his prayers are not heard, that he won't be healed, that he isn't forgiven. Even though the man (and me) is forgiven and heard and loved, the goal of the demon is to make the man feel like God isn't paying attention.

Basically, the demon wants the man to feel like his prayers are hitting the ceiling and not going anywhere else.

Let me be honest: I have absolutely felt that way. As much as I scream and yell and cry and beg, sometimes I just feel like I'm hollering at this nonexistent being. And it is so beyond frustrating, because those are the times where you feel so far away and so cut off. That's when you need Him, "The Enemy" as Screwtape calls Him, the most. The demon's job is to make sure you always feel like this and, thus, give up on God entirely, making it so the demon wins the war.

But I want you, reader (and demon), to know this: I may lose battles but I will not lose the war. My competitive spirit does not just come out when I watch baseball or play nukem. I will fight with everything God has (because just me will not be nearly enough) in order to keep talking to my Creator. Even if I don't feel forgiven, I know I am. I need to remember that guilt is the demon's foothold so that he can slither back into my brain. Even if I don't feel loved, I know I am. Loneliness is the demon's way to infect my heart. Even if I don't feel healed, I know I am. Sickness (spiritual and physical) is the demon's way to destroy my body.

I will follow the instructions 1 Corinthians 16:13 gives me when it says "Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith. Be courageous. Be strong."

Guard with courage. Stand with strength. Have faith.

From there, God will take over.

And when God takes over, you will not lose. 

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

We are the generation

People say that they get jobs and provide for themselves and contribute to the society so that their kids can have a better life than they did. That's the general argument for global warming; conserve now so that future generations can actually have an earth. We build schools, government buildings, laws, and programs all for the future.

But what about us?

If we only plan for the future, that's all we ever do. We never actually live. We're in a constant state of preparing. But what are we preparing for? If we teach our kids to constantly plan, and they teach their kids, and they teach their kids, no one will ever get to embrace the present. We'll be planning for generations who will never seize what they have.

So I say take Psalm 46:10 very seriously. "Be still and know that I am God."

After standing on a street corner in a city of nearly 19 million people who are moving at a thousand miles an hour, I realized that what these people (and me) need is peace. We need to be still. We need to be still and know that everything is going to work out just as God planned it. Not to be confused with how we plan it. Life will not, I assure you, always go your way. But it will go His way. He is the master storyteller who writes the everlasting tale.

What if we're the generation who says "Enough is enough!" and starts to make the world better for our children by making it better for ourselves? What if the lunch I gave a man was the energy he needed to go find a job? And what if the job that this man got provided him with money for him to find a place to live? What if this man meets a woman in his new apartment complex? What if they get married? What if they have kids? What if he implores his kids to be aggressive and strong and go for their dreams like he didn't? Isn't that changing our generation and our children's generation?

Different scenario: What if, by 86:12 performing in Union Square, we gave someone the confirmation they needed that there is a God and this person became involved in a church and started going on missions of their own?

What we need to realize is that there is a ripple affect for everything that is done. And these ripples can be short and just affect us or they can be long and flow throughout time.

I'm not saying that we shouldn't plan our 401k or have life insurance. Be sensible. But I am saying that we need to stop focusing so much on protecting the future people of the world and giving them an easier path and start focusing on making lasting impressions on the world that help us and help them. Live for the now.

Be still. Know who is God (and, hint, it isn't you).

Monday, June 27, 2011

Be Bold.

On a scale from one to ten, I used to be about a 4 on the boldness scale. I'd talk to people and make conversation, but I wasn't ever really one to stand up for myself and proclaim my opinions in front of large groups of people. I was (and still am) very agreeable and hated any form of confrontation. There's nothing wrong with any of this. Different people have different personalities.

I am a different person now. Though I am still very much Linley, I am absolutely not the exact same girl I was five years ago, or even a year ago. I've changed because of things that I've gone through and how I reacted to them. My relationship with my Creator has increased tenfold. I'm smarter, louder, more of a leader, and, above all, happier. I'm joyful. 


Christ has given me everything I could ever need. And, in turn, I need to put everything out there for Him.

I need to be bold.

86:12 was a part of a ministry called simply "Prayer Stations". Basically, we would stop people on the busy streets of one of the most unfriendly places in the world and ask if we can pray with them. As in, stop and talk to God in the middle of the sidewalk by Madison Square Garden with a complete stranger. In New York City.

The night before I was supposed to go out onto the streets, I had just heard story after story of how people were yelled at and how it was the worst experience of their lives and how they hated every single minute of the three hours they stood on the street corner. I was told to go into the situation with a negative expectation and that I won't have anyone say yes to me. I was so frustrated and angry with the whole deal that I went to my dorm and cried, not at all looking forward to what tomorrow had in store for me.

Talk about rejection, rudeness, being cussed out, being ignored, and feeling like the most insignificant person on the planet. We got more rejection than we got "Yeah, I'll pray with you"s. Marginally more. When I asked a man, he asked why I was bothering him and then snapped "No, you can't pray for me" before stomping across the street. I responded with "OKAY HAVE A GREAT DAY. GOD BLESS!" and attempted to not be spiteful about it. With limited success. I got a lot of quiet rejections, like shaking heads and "No thank you"s. But I got a lot of yeses. A weird amount. I prayed with a total of about 12 people, but probably 10 or so others said that they wanted to but didn't have time, so they gave me their name and what I could pray for them about.

Most were surprised when I asked if I could pray with them. I mean, I would be. The whole morning I was asking myself if I would say yes or not if someone stopped me on the street. Now, I know I would. After seeing how hard it is to dig up the courage to approach someone, I won't short anyone anything when it comes to impromptu street conversations.

None of my conversations were life-changing. I prayed for a lot of job opportunities and interviews. One guy had a brain injury. A few just asked for general prayers. The second woman I talked to (my first "yes") gushed "Oh my gosh, yes, I would love for someone to pray with me; this is exactly what I needed right now." I had a few awesome conversations with people and a few brief ones that made me smile. I saw the best and the worst of New York that day.

I realized that old me would have been shaking in her Nikes over the concept. My stomach would be doing backflips. And yet I somehow was given the boldness and the bravery to show prove to myself that I can proudly proclaim the name of my Savior to total strangers in an unforgiving city. I know that I am changed and prayer stations has given me the courage to push on and to know that I can be loud with my faith. People will accept it and reject with with equal amounts of passion. My only job is to be bold and to glorify my Savior with how I shout out His praise.

*Disclaimer: I will not be annoying. I did not run after people, yelling "Pray with me or burn!". I was kind and calm. I did not show fear but I did not show arrogance. I was myself. Bolder, yes. But still Linley.

The confrontation fear melted away that day. The fear of being rejected for my faith evaporated. God pulled off my protective shell and made me vulnerable to Him; I couldn't do that on my own. That shell was like Spiderman's creepy black suit that made him bad in the 3rd movie. It just kept sticking to me and I couldn't shake it, partly because I didn't want to shake it. It was comfortable and kept me safe, most of the time. But the shell was a bullet-proof vest in a war zone. I need a tank. God is my tank.

I wore a Rangers backpack all week and got some frowns. That was boldness on a worldly (but very fun) level. No one can say I was afraid of those Yankees. I had unlikely conversations with unlikely people that turned out to be divine appointments that I'm glad I didn't miss. We won't say more than that on the topic though.

I'm still afraid of a lot of things; that won't ever change. But I'm being held by the Maker of the universe. Being bold is just part of the deal. I still have a lot of things I need to be working on, but those will come with time and a lot of investment in my Lord. But they will come. Because He is with me until the very end of the age (Matthew 28).

Be loud. Be proud. Be bold.

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline." 2 Timothy 1:7

Mission Trip 2011: The General Overview

At 7:46 last night, my days as an 86:12 student ended.

After seven years, countless rehearsals, a few tears, tons of hours, and one John Hewlett, I close the chapter on 86:12. The ride of a lifetime finished with a spectacular mission trip to New York City where I took a picture with The Naked Cowboy and bonded with 18 other students who I probably wouldn't have become friends with otherwise.

Looking back, I feel nothing but happiness and pure contentment. It was a fantastic run and I loved every minute of 86:12. But now it's time to move forward. I'm taking this fact with a lot more peace than I thought I would. I thought there would be an immense amount of tears and heartache. Yes, there have been tears and a tinge of heartache, but mostly, I feel happy. I'm thankful for what I had and now the time has come for me to start forging a new path. My past as a follower of Christ and the boost 86:12 has given me will propel me to get involved in another church in College Station. Though I will miss my Sunday nights dearly, I can't wait to hear stories from coming years.

I can't lie, 86:12 would not nearly have been has fun without my 2 family groups I was a part of.

First, Suttle. They saw the dorky 6th grader that I was and then they saw me through my slightly less dorky 10th grade year. I spent the majority of my time as an 86:12er in this group (5 years of laughter and awesomeness) and will always feel like I am part of that group. When I got moved out to lead a new group, I was devastated. And I was incredibly bitter about it for a good part of first semester. But then I realized that they weren't kicking me out of the family group; I had simply gotten married. I was once Suttle and now I was Sims/Corley. Part of both but had just changed my name. I will always love Suttle family group, even if I didn't spend my last 2 mission trips with them.

And then there's Sims/Corley. Or, as we like to call it, Los NiƱos Locos. For only being a family group for 2 years, we are a tight group of people. I love every single one of them and am so immeasurably proud of them. They are such an incredible group of people and I'm so excited for them in the future. Pictures of Sassy Kyle, interesting conversations on the subway, and pictures of sleeping people made up an important part of our mission trip. We all had such great attitudes and I will miss you all so much next year.

86:12 undertook some amazing feats. We ignored a man with a "Jesus is Fake" sign during our first concert in the city. We led 2 worship services that were completely student driven. We bagged hundreds of food kits, fed hundreds of mouths, and touched hundreds of lives in hundreds of ways. Soup kitchens, homeless ministry, retirement homes, and other various ministries filled our days. Basically, 86:12 rocked New York City.

Of course, we had our tourist things. We hiked around Central Park some. We went to Times Square. We saw a Broadway show (LION KING!). Some groups ate legit New York pizza while others visited the epic M&M store.

God moved in amazing ways in a dark place. 86:12 successfully found some dark. And we definitely shed some light on it.


Other random facts:

Ashley craves an infant.

I saw Olympus (hello Empire State Building).

New Yorkers like dropping the f-bomb. Frequently.

New Yorkers gave Sassy Kyle a run for his money on the sassy scale.

I am a basket case.

Leaders can be quiet. Leaders can be loud. Leaders can be whatever they want to be (within moral boundaries and whatnot), as long as they lead.

Friends come in strange places.

New Yorkers are very proud of the fact that they are New Yorkers.

I could not have asked for a better senior trip.

Some people over the age of 100 don't like to acknowledge the fact that they are over 100.

Old ladies from Brooklyn are hilarious.

You find strange things in clothes closets.


The end.

Friday, June 17, 2011

It's almost here.

So, I had this epic blog post planned in honor of my final 86:12 mission trip (as a student, anyways). It was going to have a countdown separated by how until I had to be at the airport with paragraphs in between each count that described what I was excited for and what I was anxious about and all of that jazz.

Then I had to clean my room.

Then I went to dinner.

Then I watched the Rangers game and wrote "thank you" cards.

Then I packed.

Then I recleaned my room because packing is messy.

Then I looked at my clock and saw that it was midnight and saw that I had 5 hours until I had to be at the airport and only about 3 1/2 hours to actually sleep.

Then I realized that I still had to shower.

Then I became thoroughly overwhelmed.

So that's what happened since I started this post earlier this evening (or yesterday evening?). The count is down to 4 hours and 58 minutes before my arrival at DFW airport. 57 minutes now.

Reader, I apologize for my terrible planning abilities. I should have been blogging this whole week about New York and all the cool things I get to do and who I get to minister with (I'm sharing something I wrote at a homeless ministry...CRAZY.)

Of course, if I get a minute to run into the Empire State Building, you know that I will be asking for the 600th floor to visit Olympus and looking for any signs of damage that may have occurred during Percy and Kronos' battle a few years back. You know that I will stand in reverence of Ground Zero. You know that I will proudly represent both the Rangers and A&M. And you know that this year's senior skit is going to be epic.

I will take pictures. I will make memories. I will laugh and I will cry. But, above all else, I will love. I will love because of how desperately and passionately I am loved and to be selfish of such love wouldn't be loving of me at all.

So now I have 4 hours, 52 minutes, and 23 seconds.

22.

21.

20.

19...

New York, here we come.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Practicality vs. Passion

I registered for my classes last week at A&M. It was stressful but fairly exciting and I now have my first semester of college somewhat planned out. At least on an academic standpoint. But here's how it went down.

I'm an English major in the college of Liberal Arts. Within my major, there are four tracks that you can take  to get you all graduated: Literature, rhetoric, middle school education, and creative writing. You can pretty much only choose one track but can have elective choices. So, naturally, my first instinct was to go directly to the creative writing. My parents knew that. I knew that. It was settled.

Except, when my analytical dad thought about it, he didn't think it was logical. If I'm talented, do I need creative writing as my focus? Most authors didn't major in creative writing; they had "real" jobs before they became famous (James Patterson, Rick Riordan, JK Rowling, etc) for the written word. In fact, Rick Riordan was a middle school teacher himself before Percy Jackson took off in a whirlwind of Greek mythology. Being a middle school teacher, my parents deduced, would get me a job after college that had a steady income. When I pointed out that teachers make squat, my mom asked how much unpublished novelists made.

Needless to say, I was knocked down a few pegs.

So I ended up with the middle school education track.

Don't get me wrong; I love, love, love teaching. The year I spent shadowing a 7th grade Language Arts teacher was the most eye-opening and fun I had in high school. It was an absolute blast and I would love to teach. But for me, writing comes first. My brain boils down to one simple fact: writing>teaching. It's the truth.

I will still take creative writing courses as my elective (maybe I can teach creative writing at a middle school...best of both worlds?) but part of me is still longing to go with the less logical, less paid track that won't guarantee me anything. That is one risk that I want to take. But then there's the terribly logical part of me that's saying, "Stupid. No. Do not focus on creative writing if you want your own place when you graduate."

I've always been told to follow my dreams, but no one ever told me that my dreams would conflict and not make sense. I guess that comes with the title, right? I mean, look at every character Disney has ever made. Pinocchio wanted to be a real boy and he almost got eaten by a whale. Snow White was nearly poisoned by an apple. Cinderella's beauty had a curfew. Belle fell in love with Big Foot.

If Disney based a movie off of me, it would be the lamest one ever. Poor Linley, the struggling author who can't make up her mind. Yeah, that'd be a blockbuster. Sold-out midnight premier. A doll made after me, scratching her head and holding a notebook and pen.

Yes, this is a pity party.

Anyways, my end resolution was this: focus on middle school education, take creative writing electives, and maybe go to graduate school and get a masters in fiction writing. It's tentative but it's a plan.


I am...

Listening to: "Mean" by Taylor Swift
Looking forward to: VBS tomorrow!
Procrastinating: Taking a shower
Thinking about: My educational angst
Wondering: How everything is going to turn out
Reflecting over: God's plan

Saturday, June 4, 2011

BEM Day 31: Last

Because the month of May has 31 days in it and this is my 31st post in a row (not counting Memorial Day weekend), it is technically my last day to post every day. And I don't think that I'm going to blog every day for the rest of my life--I'm too busy for that and don't have enough things to write about. But I make a promise to you, reader: I will blog as often as I can.

But there's another reason why this post is titled "Last". Today was the last time I will ever be with all of my classmates. When I walked across that stage, it was the last time some of the members of the CHS class of 2011 will ever see me. I'm hoping it's the last time someone will mispronounce my name (yes, it happened at my graduation. My name is not Lindsey. There is no "s" in "Linley") but it won't be.

Tonight is the last night I will be with the majority of my classmates as we party until the wee hours of the morning at Main Event.

Some of the friendships I've made will last me a long time, maybe even a lifetime. But most won't. I know that. I used to be afraid of that, but, at last, I'm not. The future holds some promises and some fears and I'm ready to see what's going to happen in the next four years.

So, an ode to last. I know this probably sounds like I'm signing off for good, but I'm not. More will come from this brain and through these fingers on a keyboard. But I'm not a high school girl anymore. I've grown up but I still have a long way to go.

Names, places, and events will change. Times will pass and new ones will take their places. Life is ending and life is beginning. I'm popping the bubble by getting out of it but I'm not quite ready to step too far from it.

Sorry for being cliche, reader. It's hard to not be.

But this will not be the last time for me to do the "I am..." things. Because I like that. So that'll stick around for some posts.

I'll keep you posted, reader.


I am...

Listening to: "Loving You Tonight" by Andrew Allen
Looking forward to: PROJECT GRADUATION
Procrastinating: Changing into my PG shirt
Thinking about: The past 4 years
Wondering: What crazy adventure I'm about to embark on
Reflecting over: Memories

Friday, June 3, 2011

BEM Day 30: Summer planning

I fly by the seat of my pants. Generally.

When it comes to babysitting, I plan when I get there. We assess the day and see what we want to do and then we go from there. The parents leave us x amount of money to work with and we just go from there. But this family who I'm babysitting for this summer wanted me to plan out the whole summer and I'm feeling a tad overwhelmed. I'm trying to work out stuff and have one or two "big" things a week but then I'm also trying to do cheap things, like tie-dying shirts and having writing contests that I will be the judge of. But, honestly, that is the hardest part of my job.

It's a sweet deal. The kids are an incoming 9th grade girl and an incoming 7th grade boy. They basically just need someone to take them places and keep them from being bored. But, by the end of the summer, I'm going to end up making a large sum of money. I won't give the final count that I just calculated, but it is quite large. This family is also going to pay for my expenses (food money, movie tickets, admission, etc) and my gas. Nothing will come out of my pocket. It'll be great but this whole planning deal? I'm not a huge fan. But I'll figure it out. It's tentative and we probably won't stick with it perfectly (Texas weather can be quite temperamental). Then again, it is good to have some direction and a general calendar, though vague it may be.

I am a planner and I like to have my time organized so that I know what's coming next and how I should prep for it. But planning out two months of summer activities when you don't really know the kids you're babysitting? It's a difficult task, to say the least.

So that's that.


I am...

Listening to: "Miss Me" by Andy Grammer
Looking forward to: GRADUATING TOMORROW!
Procrastinating: Getting in the shower. Yep, we're back to that
Thinking about: How I only did a point better on my math assessment. Hello, basic college algebra
Wondering: If my advisor is going to laugh at me when I sign up for classes when he/she sees my terrible math assessment score
Reflecting over: My excitement for the great beyond (some people call it "the future")

Thursday, June 2, 2011

BEM Day 29: Sports of the DFW variety

So, I live in the DFW area. We have the Rangers, the Cowboys, the Mavericks, and the Stars. All of them have had their ups and downs. All of these teams have played in the national championship (though not all of them have won...) but that's still a pretty great accomplishment. How many other cities in America can say they've sent all four of their major teams onto the national championship? It's a pretty cool situation.

So the Cowboys. The glory days were back in the '90s. Troy Aikman, Emmett Smith, all those guys. They were the beautiful players of the blue and silver. The Dallas Cowboys were the team to beat. Unfortunately, I was but a wee child when the Cowboys were a force to be reckoned with and will rejoice in the day that they are good again. Like, legitimately good. Not Jerry Jones good. And somehow I feel like my boys in the blue won't ever be good while under the rule of Jerry.

So the Stars. I remember a long time ago in the early 2000s (or was it the late 1990s?) the Stars won the Stanley Cup. I was at my grandparents' house in Wichita Falls when my dad told me and I was thrilled. I'd been to one Stars game in my life at that point (my one and only thus far) and I used to know who some of the players were. Now, I couldn't tell you one player on that team. I do, however, know that hockey is not Dallas's strong suit right now.

So the Rangers. Last year they broke franchise records...and lots of them. Baseball has surpassed football (on a pro level...not so sure about college yet) as my favorite sport. If you've ever read my blog before, you know about my intense and unfailing love for my Rangers. If I could hang out with any celebrity, it would be a Ranger (not Taylor Lautner or Ryan Reynolds...though both of them make me swoon). Give me Josh Hamilton or Elvis Andrus first, and, if they aren't available, I might settle for one of the aforementioned movie stars. Maybe. I'm seeing the World Series in their future again though. And very soon. CLAWS AND ANTLERS!

So the Mavericks. I'll freely admit it: I'm a bandwagon fan. Basketball, once my favorite sport, has become a haven for punks and inked up sweaty bodies. I'm just not a fan of how dirty it is and how overly rough. It's worse than football in that sense. There just isn't a lot of accountability or sportsmanship in basketball players anymore. But it is really exciting for my home team to be in the finals, even if I'm not a basketball fan. I've been following them as they've gone through the playoffs and have been excited in their victories and bummed out in their losses. But I just like them, not love them. While I could list off ten Rangers players (or more), I could only give you about four Mavericks. I finished watching baseball tonight before I switched the channel to basketball. I'm excited for those Mavs, but, let's face it, basketball just isn't my thing. So, go Mavs!

But...

GO RANGERS!

See the difference?


I am...

Listening to: "Break It Out" by The Rocket Summer
Looking forward to: MY LAST DAY OF HIGH SCHOOL EVER
Procrastinating: Repainting my fingernails and taking a shower
Thinking about: How I like acoustic music more than rock
Wondering: If I'm going to trip at graduation
Reflecting over: The past four years

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

BEM Day 28: Questions, angst, and writing

Completely random blog post that I need to do in order to stay with this daily blogging deal. The title is fairly self explanatory.

Questions:

1. Did Adam and Eve have bellybuttons?

2. Which came first: dinosaur or man?

3. Was there ever life on Mars?

4. Does God have a favorite Bible verse?

5. Did Jesus actually have a beard?

6. Who killed JFK?

7. Where is Amelia Earhart?

8. Okay really. How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?

9. Why are boys stupid?


Angst. Today was the sign up for A&M fish camp and the website crashed and wasn't up until way later in the day. But my mom woke me up at 8:30 and kept harassing me to keep checking the site all the day long. Great, thanks Mom. I appreciate it. But I went back to sleep at around 9 and slept for the next three hours. Cool beans.


Writing. I'm not gonna lie, I've been on a roll lately. I planned out the end and it's going to be a pretty stinkin' awesome book. Of course, it is ROUGH right now. But I'm excited and will hopefully (key word) have it finished by the end of July and will maybe find an editor and agent soon. Who knows, I might have a published book by this time next year? Highly unlikely, hey, but I'm not knocking it.


I am...

Listening to: "Loving You Tonight" by Andrew Allen (hey, not Parachute!)
Looking forward to: Talking with my friend Mary Beth tomorrow
Procrastinating: Those awful thank you cards
Thinking about: How people are going to be stupid and skip the MANDATORY graduation practice tomorrow...idiots
Wondering: When, if ever, life is going to slow down
Reflecting over: The benefits of blogging every day...there are many