Sometimes a little blindness helps us appreciate the light

Misadventure of the day:
Today, I went to church. You’d think, being that it’s Sunday, that would go without saying. It doesn’t. I’m in the middle of a transition, growing into a new church, and trying to shed some bad habits of withdrawing from fellowship when I feel like I don’t fit.

I slept through my alarm. I woke up 15 minutes late, and when my first thought was “Crap, I’m going to miss worship!” and not “Looks like I’m sleeping in today,” I noticed the change. I was thankful for it.

Today was the first time I’ve been to our new building, and my GPS got me there without incident. And yet, the morning still held promise for misadventures. My glasses have transition lenses, and walking through the sunlight into the building, they became sunglasses very quickly. As I was late, I made a beeline for the auditorium. The worship set had begin, and there were very few lights on. I must have looked incredibly lost in the doorway, taking off my glasses and putting them on, trying to figure out which was better. An usher came up to me and asked if I needed help finding a seat. “Well, my glasses are currently sunglasses, so I can’t see anything!”

I find it striking how something so simple–even good–can cause blindness when I can’t put it in it’s appropriate context. I think this is something that I have really been struggling with in the last few weeks. But rather than just rip out a page of my journal and paste it here, I felt that a poem better expresses the shape of this struggle. So, enjoy!

A month ago, I scrolled through photographs
of the great pyramids
soft and white
from the first Egyptian snow
in 115 years.
I wondered at this
great triumph of man,
big and proud and unrelenting
quietly covered with snow.
I wondered if our triumphs are always
so easily covered
by such small things.

Yesterday, I saw a picture online
that said,
“Even the winds
and the waves
obey you.”
My first thought
was that it was talking to me–
using metaphor to describe
the infinity of my potential,
the futility of standing in the way
of my success.
“I am young. I am woman.
I create my worlds.”

It scared me.

 

Misadventures, and Why I am All for Them

Ginny Hazard is a pseudonym I have used for a long time now. I call it my pen name, but I have used it for other things. One day, I hope to see it on the cover of a novel that I’ve written, at least successfully enough to find it in the few dusty corner of an indie bookshop or two. For now, I suppose every writer has to start somewhere. So this blog is where I’m starting.

I’m kind of in the middle of about a hundred beginnings at the moment. So figured hey, why not write about it? (Although I must say, I was shocked when I updated my LinkedIn profile and it told me that I have been working at my job for 7 months now. Is time even a real thing?) This title–“The Misadventures of Ginny Hazard[ous]”– is one I’ve had half-jokingly rolling around in the back of my mind ever since I decided I wanted to be Ginny Hazard. I thought it sounded like a great title for a memoir, but I never really felt like I would be able to get the tone to fit it. The humor in it would be forced at best, ironic and bleak at worst.

Today, it fits. This time, this season, this fumbling into adulthood…Yes. Misadventures is a good word.

I promise I’m not just waxing poetic. (Well, a little bit. This is MY blog, after all.) If there is anything in my life that is a constant source of misadventures, it’s my car. On average, I’m pretty sure I get pulled over about twice a month. Why? Because I have a headlight out. The funny thing is usually if I get pulled over once, I get pulled over a second (or sometimes a third) time in the same night. I don’t know why. But I’ve literally been pulled over so many times now for my headlight that I’ve lost count, and yet my headlight remains non-functional. Why haven’t I just fixed it? That’s a fair question. Part of it is the realistic reasons, of course. It turns out it is not just a burnt out bulb, but a wiring issue, and I just don’t care to take it in to a mechanic, especially since a headlight out is clearly not a priority when it comes to writing tickets. Then there’s the part of me that kind of enjoys that by getting pulled over so many times, I have started a kind of collection of weird cop stories. Once, the policeman who pulled me over “let me know about my headlight” and then asked me of there were any dead bodies in my trunk! Another time I got pulled over I had forgotten my wallet, and I’m pretty sure the only reason the officer didn’t ticket me was because he had the same name as me. It was pretty cool, since it is an uncommon name, but what?! Life is weird.

There’s definitely a part of me that kicks myself for my own irresponsibility when I stumble into a misadventure like this. But then something silly happens, like a policeman, the guy who’s supposed to be the big bad enforcer of the law, makes a stupid joke, or gets excited about a shared experience, and I’m reminded in these moments that they aren’t BIG UGLY MISTAKES. They really aren’t even little marks in a police departments record. They are moments of shared human experience. And they aren’t supposed to be perfect.

My New Years’ Resolution is to Figure Out My Life

Oh wait… I’m 23 years old, and a human being. I think I’m going to need something more practical.

A lot has happened in my life over this past year. To list the major plot points, I graduated from college, found my first full-time job, moved out of my mom’s house and into my own apartment (with a real lease and everything), and left the church I’ve growth up in to join a church with a vastly different structure and culture. I’m reading over that list again, and it truly boggles my mind that it’s possible to summarize this past year in one sentence. I don’t think it will ever not shock me how language is able to take big, complex things, and make them appear small and simple. I often struggle with the way language simplifies things, and in doing so fails to convey the weight of what I want to say, but in this case I think the obvious label that comes to mind is more than fitting to describe this past year: it has been a transition.

And who knows more than a kid in her 20s that a transition is basically a never-ending experiment, full of missteps and bad combinations blowing up like vinegar and baking soda in her face, and lots and lots and lots of questions? Thankfully, I have a God who walks through the unknown with me, and who helps me find my way after a wrong step.

Although I have to admit, sometimes it feels like I’m still trying to find the map, forget about the road. Is it any wonder that I am longing to have my life all figured out? Nah, I didn’t think so. In reality, if I decide to be self-reflective, I know that as I start to figure out the answers to what I am supposed to be doing and who I am and all of those things, sure, I feel confident and grown up I guess, but I don’t run out of questions, or stop needing to figure things out. The questions just change as I change and grow, so they are never really answered.

Before I tumble down a metaphysical rabbit-hole, let me get to the point. This year, all I know for sure is that the experiment is going to continue, and that God is going with me. And since I have no hope of solving the puzzle of my life, I do have some practical resolutions for the new year:

• Spend time with Jesus daily
• Cook at least one meal a week
• Get plugged in to the community at the Underground (my church)
• Find a place to serve
• Work on relating to people without fear
• Start a blog (*Looks around* Oh, look! WordPress! Step one of this resolution: Complete. If you are reading this, so is step two. Huzzah!)
• Learn to take a compliment
• Pay off my credit card

Here’s looking forward!