Part of my About Me

What seems like a long time ago, I had an awful nickname. While that nickname was only with me for a few years, the way it made me feel summarized my whole childhood in one full swoop. I felt as though I never belonged any where because we moved so often. Even when we didn't move often, the long stays were in small towns that I would never be a 'native.' Unfortunately for those who did accept me for who I was, I always had that underlying nagging of the not belonging.

When I graduated high school I had an opportunity. I was going to a new school in a new state. No one can be "from" the college, so all students are at the same starting block. No one knew my nickname. No one knew my history. I had a clean slate handed to me at a school that didn't have any other students from my hometown. After one year of school my parents moved again. With that I did something I will never fully recover from.

I walked away from my hometown.

Almost a decade later I've begun the process of reestablishing contact with those who meant the most to me in middle and high school. I'm realizing that getting completely wrapped up in the bubble called college I neglected some relationships that didn't deserve to be ignored. I didn't fight with these friends. I didn't even say good bye. I just stopped communicating with all of them. I didn't visit because my parents and sisters were across the country. I just disappeared, and I didn't mind until now.

I hope to keep pursuing these old friends and the friendships we once had. I hope that a hello here and there will instigate further conversations. Maybe we can catch up. Maybe a new relationship will flourish between to the new people we are today. I'm not confident, but I am persistant. I'm also sorry. I wonder if those who meant the most realize that. And, I hope someday they give me a chance to tell them face to face.

Have you neglected a relationship beyond repair? Did you ever work to fix it? Did who you were in the past buy you a second chance today or ruin it?

About Me

"About Me" sections of websites have a tendency to invoke different responses in people. I think it is rare to find an "About Me" section not tainted with arrogance, self-deprecation or filtered, 'politically correct' answers. Too often too much thought is put into the audience and not the subject. Typically, I think writing does the exact opposite, but in the case of the "About Me," it requires focus on self - pure, true, honest, ugly and beautiful all at the same time.

I choose the route of denial and avoidance. I try to not fill them out, or I put something cryptic and challenging forcing responsibility onto the audience instead of myself. If not left blank, they almost always include a "ask me if you want to know more." When in reality, the word more is inaccurate because I probably told them nothing.

In it's most raw form, I think the "About Me" should be a not a sampling of personality traits but a honest and even slice of your life and psyche to the core of who you are. Metaphorically, imagine you as a pie and the piece you choose to share cuts from the edge all the way to the center. How wide the slice is, now that is where you should get to tweak based on your comfort with who you see in the mirror and who you share that with.

I think I'm going to start with my own private "About Me." Something crystal clear and something I can slowly cut away at until I have something thin enough for public viewing without being tainted with what I want people to see, what people want to read, what we all create in our sugar-coated minds lying to ourselves and each other.

How about your "About Me"s? Do you sign up for blogs, social networks, forums and other profiles jotting down who you want to be known as instead of who you are? Does it matter, or do we expect to read white lies and colorful embellishments when reading who a person is?

And, the Grinch's Heart Grew 3 Times Larger

Just short of two years ago, I chaperoned a youth mission trip to Kentucky. This was not only my first mission trip ever, but it was my first time meeting many, if not all, of the youth. This group is from my family's church in Michigan not a church locally that I attend.

On the final day during morning devotionals, each person there - leaders, chaperones and youth alike - shared the "light of their week." Many discussed the people they helped and/or their vast feats at improving the living environments for so many people. My light was the youth working as God's hands. To this day I am amazed at how dedicated and loving they were while working under conditions of sleep deprivation, heat, humidity, distractions and excitement, constant interactions with friends and the mothering and fathering of us chaperones. Often it was the youth driving the work forward and refusing to head back for the night to prepare for the next day. Often it was the youth bonding with those we were helping and drawing smiles from faces who had seen harder times than many of us can imagine. It was the youth following God's will and showing his love that shown so brightly for me that week.

This week I chaperoned another trip with this group here in Chicago. For weeks I have been excited in anticipation to see the youth I had worked with before. I rarely see them, and now was my chance to catch up and get to know eachother all over again. In the end the week was more than I could have imagined. In addition to those I had come to love just a couple years before, I met more of their friends and group members. It was as if I understood the pain and joy the Grinch felt when his heart grew that much larger so quickly.

This week I watched young men and women dedicate their time, energy and love for a week. They ate the food at the shelter without complaint. They worked on projects that put them outside of their comfort zone. They slept in a building with only one room with air conditioning and the others with little air circulation at all. They worked with children and their reading, they cleaned homes and thrift shops, they built cabinets and dry-walled. These youth only wanted to do more than they already were doing. Most simply put, they left things better than they found them. And all the while, my heart burst with love and pride for every one of them.

Tonight I'm back home. While I sit here missing each and every one of them, I think about where each of them are headed. Some are in middle school, others high school and the rest are headed to college this fall. With my own impending move to Denver, I know I'll see them even less than I have these past two years. I pray they continue their relationships with Jesus. I pray that they remember they have each other. I pray they know they are loved and that this was not just a "mountaintop experience."

And, I think back over the week and realize...once again they are my light of the week. Through each and every one of them I saw Jesus this week more clearly than ever. Thank you, Lord, for such a brilliantly bright and loving week.