Procrastination at its Greatest

I hadn’t run in weeks, and I was stressed, so I ran.  It’s good for me to take stress and run it off instead of shoving it down inside of me and trying to digest it—stress is indigestible, like gum or aluminum foil.   

My favorite part of running alone is setting my own pace, which I think I’ve written about before.  I can stop and look at whatever I desire and take time to observe the world, instead of quickly running past it.  I’m honestly more of a run-walker instead of a runner.  If my mentally allowed me, I could continue to run for a decent amount of time, but I’m too curious about things and I end up slowing my pace to walk. 

I ended up running (and walking) to Gas Works, since I haven’t yet this year and I’ve wanted to for a while now.  Plus, the sun was out so there was nothing I wanted to do more than get outside and enjoy it while it lasted. 

It was also an excellent way to avoid studying for my psychology test.  There are twelve days left in the quarter and things are starting to pile up.  I wanted to get off campus and escape it, even if it was only for an hour.

I can’t remember exactly what I listened to, but I do remember that the air smelled wonderful, clean, and warm.  Spring is hiding right around the corner, and I found that I could breathe easier knowing that fact.  I ran down the hill from the dorm, down the street, across the Freemont Bridge, and toward Gas Works.

I ran off everything that had been worrying me for the past weeks and let it fall off behind me as I pushed my legs forward.  Running isn’t merely a distraction—it’s a way for me to release the tightness in my body and rejuvenate my mind.  It breaks me down physically, and builds me up emotionally.   

I ran through several shipyards, past yoga studios, hair salons, and offices, until I finally saw a large hill of green and knew I was close to my destination.  Once I was there I made my way to the top and I was surprised to find that I was nearly alone, except for a girl running on the other side of the park. 

Anyone who has been to Gas Works knows how breathtaking the view is.  It doesn’t matter if the sun is out or not, the view will still be spectacular.  (However, having the sun out doesn’t hurt, that’s for sure.)  I pulled out my phone and took several pictures.  I tried to take some that aren’t the typical view you see from Gas Works, and I think I succeeded with a few.

It was what I needed.  I needed to run, and I needed to capture the moment in a different way.

And now I'm sore, which happens to be a great feeling because it proves I worked out.

Detached

Bloom

From Dust to Dust

“The years go by like stones under rushing water.  We only know when it’s gone.”

-NEEDTOBREATHE

“Weep not for me, for in Glory I wait for thee.”

-Anonymous

I took a God walk today.  I grabbed my Bible, threw on some comfy clothes and exited through the back of the dorm.  I had a feeling I knew where I was going, I’d been there once before (not very long, and totally a different story) so I wanted to go back again.

I’m not sure why I was instinctively driven there.  Maybe because I knew it would be quiet and because I knew I would be alone.  I knew that the wind would be my only companion, and God if I could somehow find him.

I know that it seems silly that I would have to go find God.  He’s omnipotent, but it feels like I’m actually setting aside time for him when I talk a walk and plan on meeting him somewhere, like I would meet a friend at a coffee shop on a summer day. 

Except today was no summer day, and I was sitting among graves. 

Cemeteries give many people the heebie-jeebies but I find that it’s a place where I can sit and think among a hundred people who already understand what happens after death.  I know what I’ve been taught, but I can’t help wondering about the validity of it.  All I know right now is that when I have God, I have peace.  When my emotions are raging he is what settles me and puts me back on track.

That’s why I went there.  So I could talk to God among a group of people who already know the truth.  It’s a strange way to be comforted, I know.

I picked my way through the gravestones and among the grass while listening to trees that sounded like a creaky porch swing as they blew in the wind.  A few loose leaves were tripping on the ground and rustling in the grass.  Birds were singing and the wind was brushing against my back, picking my hair up from its warm place against my neck and touching my face, cooling my nose. 

I could finally think.  And there were so many things to think about.  My Bible remained tucked under my arm as I continued to walk and take in my surroundings, breathing in the Seattle winter air.

I sang Be Thou My Vision quietly to myself and found a place to sit.  I opened my Bible to Psalm 23, one of my favorite Psalms when I was young and it remains so.  “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.  He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul.”

He restores my soul.  Sometimes I need to take time to breathe and remember where my breath comes from.  He is the one that has the power to take it or leave it.  He is the one that has the power to truly love and heal me.  I continued to read through the Psalms, since they were the prayers that I couldn’t seem to find and put into my own words. 

I turned through Psalms mindlessly, occasionally watched at the wind flipped pages, not in the mood to stop it from doing so.  Then I read Psalm 90:3-6. 

You turn men back to dust,

saying, “Return to dust, O sons of men.”

For a thousands years in your sight

are like a day that has just gone by,

or like a watch in the night.

You sweep men away in the sleep of death;

they are like the new grass of the morning—

though in the morning it springs up new,

by evening it is dry and withered. 

That verse directly correlated with the song I had been listening to by NEEDTOBREATHE.  These days will soon be over, I will be gone before I know it.  I will be just one more among these graves.  Yet while I’m alive, I’m extremely blessed.  I’ve been given the power to love. 

It turns out the cemetery was exactly what I needed.

Time to think,

Reflect,

and let myself come full circle once again.  

Snowpocalypse

This week I’ve been living in an uncanny winter wonderland.  It hasn’t snowed this much in Seattle since 1985, and no one knows what to do about it.

I’ve loved every second of it, especially since I’m from Colorado and 4 inches of snow in Colorado isn’t enough for us to even begin thinking about a snow day.  Try four feet and then we’ll talk about it.  Here, the Seattle governor has declared a state of emergency. 

Everyone here knows how to drive in rain, but once you throw slush and ice into the equation it’s a different story.  Not to mention Seattle is full of hills that are 30 to 40 degrees steep, which turns them into awesome sledding hills and danger zones once they’re covered.

The hill that everyone climbs to get to my dorm has become a sledding hill during the past 2 days.  People have been sledding in laundry baskets, large Tupperware, on trays from Taco Bell, and even “watch your step” signs that they stole from inside the dorm.  People have also had massive snowball fights that involve 50 or more people from all over campus. 

Basically, it’s been a huge party.  I haven’t had school in 6 days now, and if school gets cancelled for tomorrow I’ll have had 9 days off when I go back to class.

Yesterday I bundled up and went out to go sledding.  I ended up getting soaked but it was worth it in every single way.  As my friend Sarah put it, “If you put Elisabeth on the 6^th floor and snow on the bottom, a record will be set for the fastest a person has ever gone down 6 stories of stairs.” 

Since words hardly convey the joy of snow, I’ve decided to share pictures to continue the story.

The ends of a snowball fight that occurred below my window, making it impossible to study because all I wanted to do was watch! 

The hill in the bottom left of the picture is where everyone has been sledding for the past few days, not to mention accidentally slipping down while trying to walk to dinner.

Me with two of my closest friends at school taking some time to enjoy the snow!
 (Photo credit to Taylor M.H.E.) 

The graveyard behind SPU, covered in a beautiful and peaceful layer of snow.

I fogged up the window and drew some love.  What a beautiful day!

The Beautiful

I’ve often thought that if Colorado was entered in a beauty pageant, she would win it.

She has the sun, she has the mountains, the plains, the foothills, lakes… not to mention indescribable sunsets. 

I managed to catch one of those tonight as I was in the car traveling toward the mountains.  I reached the top of a hill and suddenly the Rockies were spread out before me, like a glorious picture. 

The sun was starting to disappear behind them and a light like sweet honey was being cast upon the frontier.  (I suppose I tend to associate beauty with different tastes.) 

Anyway, it was one of those moments in which I found my breath caught in my throat.  Cliché, but true. 

It was one of those beautiful moments in which, even though I had my camera, I let my eyes take it in instead.    

When the World is Silent and I am Still

I love watching movies in the theatre late at night.  And I love having a couple of my best friends come along.  The company can make or break a movie, no matter how good or terrible it may be.

One of my closest friends brought some pain meds for me, since I had asked her to.  I came straight from babysitting and had a terrible headache from the dentist appointment I had earlier (which I survived, if you were curious—and my teeth have been decavitized…yes, I just made that word up on the spot). 

The movie, Sherlock Holmes, was highly enjoyable and I found myself captivated by the plot.  My favorite parts were probably the comic relief, because that’s simply the kind of mood I’m in.  I can stand the tension, but I would much rather laugh. 

After the movie was over the three of us split up to go home, one on her own and the other with me.  I had been exceedingly cold before entering the theatre but I was suddenly very content with the temperature of the frigid air and didn’t mind taking my time to get to the car.  (My poor friend was freezing so I quickly turned the heat on for her.) 

On the drive home we discussed friendships and how they’ve changed since we left high school, and how we must decide whom we really want to stay in touch with.  It’s a decision that’s been more prominent since we've been home and something that has been on my mind lately. 

After I dropped her off, and waited to make sure she was safely inside, I drove the 10 seconds down the street to my own house and parked in the same place I have for 2 years.  What Hurts the Most by the Rascal Flatts was playing on the radio and I sat in the car and sang along with it.  It's a song that has nothing to do with my life at the moment—I was surprised to find that I still knew all of the lyrics even though I probably hadn’t heard the song all the way through since sophomore year of high school. 

When it ended I turned the radio off, gathered my belongings, and stepped out into the winter air. 

All was silent. 

I began to walk across the snow but the crunching noise under my boots disturbed the soundless night. 

So I stopped and took my time to breathe and take in my surroundings.

I wasn’t cold.  Not in the least.  I watched as I blew a cloud of my breath into the air—it hovered before me, floated, then dispersed. 

I looked up at the cloudless night (something I’m still amazed by after spending a few month in Seattle).  It was breathtaking and beautiful.  I sought out the constellation Orion, and my eyes settled on the middle star. 

Mine.  I inwardly claimed it in 6^th grade. 

It remains constant and I love searching it out.  I love the summer, because it’s warm.  But I love the winter because my star is in the sky.  I’ve begun to notice the subtle tipping of the earth after all these years of looking for it.

So there I was, standing in the freezing cold, looking at the sky, breathing… and not wanting to move a muscle.

I felt as if I could lie down and sleep right there.  (However, my inner reasoning did manage to tell me that idea was anything but wise.)

For minutes, it was just me between the pavement and the stars.  No one else existed.  At one in the morning I doubt many other people were awake in my neighborhood.   

In music library in my head began to sing how great is our God, sing with me how great is our God, and all will see how great, how great, is our God. 

It’s the moments like that when I feel closest to Him.  It’s when I take the time to be still and to soak his creation in.

When I’m there I never want to leave.     

Counting Airplanes

I got this crazy idea stuck in my head last week.  It was called get up at 6:45 in the morning and walk to the park to watch the sunrise.

I finally followed through with my idea this morning except it got changed to get up at 6:45 in the morning, walk out to the 6^th floor balcony, and watch the sunrise.  My laziness got the better of me and I realized I would probably have a better view from the balcony anyway.

I looked up the time of the sunrise last night and set my alarm accordingly.  It was supposed to happen at 7:06 and I was out on the balcony all bundled up 15 minutes before that.  There was no way I was going to miss it. 

There were more clouds than I expected, which caused the sun to show much later than I thought it would.  I ended up counting airplanes as I waited.  I needed something to pass the time and I was still too tired to read the Bible I had brought out with me.  I chose something simple that required no energy.  It was as if I was counting sheep to fall asleep, but I was counting airplanes and waiting for the sun to rise.  There must have been at least 20 or so, maybe more.

I kept watching them pass and circle through the sky.  And occasionally a crow would fly by, so close I could hear the beating of its wings.  I used to be a little superstitious about those birds, but now I see them all the time so it doesn’t faze me anymore. 

As I kept sitting there I began to wonder if I had missed it.  It was light enough out to feel like the sun had already come up.  What if I had missed it and I was just sitting out there waiting for nothing?  I got to thinking that my blog post for the day might end up being titled “Epic Fail”. 

But, sure enough the sun eventually peeked its head from behind the clouds that had veiled the horizon, and the clouds began to get a fluffy-pink-cotton-candy look.  The sky brightened and smiled.    

Part of me expected a Colorado sunrise.  I think I’m still coming to terms with the fact that I’m in Seattle. 

But now that I’ve greeted the sun, a part of me is more willing to call this place home.  

The Brightest Thing Since the Sun

I’m so thankful that my desk resides directly next to my window.

Though it may be cloudy in Seattle the majority of the time, or raining (or misting as the case would usually be), I always enjoy the view. 

The trees outside my window are currently a fiery orange, and their color becomes even more illuminated when the sun hits them just right. 

Yesterday I was contentedly blogging as it rained and I turned to look out my window as I normally do when trying to find the right words.

There, spread across the sky, was the most glorious rainbow I have ever seen.

Considering I don’t see the sun very often in Seattle, seeing a full rainbow was indescribable.  

I immediately began yelling at everyone on my floor to look out the window.  I started taking pictures and posted about the rainbow on the Ashton Facebook page, telling people to look outside.  I wanted as many people as possible to get the chance to see it. 

Why shouldn’t everyone delight in the beauty of a promise?

I call rainbows “promises” because they remind me of all the great things that God has in store for me, and everyone around me. 

Before I knew it people throughout the dorm were yelling out their windows, “Look at the rainbow!” and everyone was hooting and laughing. 

Within minutes Facebook was full of posts talking about the rainbow—everyone was posting pictures and glorifying the beauty of God’s nature!

It seemed as if God was saying, you can get through this and I am here every step of the way.

Promises.

Yes, promises that will never fail.