How I Feel About College at the Moment

I'm finally starting to feel a little bit like this.

Good, Allison, you're only a couple months late getting on the "excited about college like a normal person" train.

But in true personal fashion, I'm still mostly like this.

Now, I'm spending my days starting to pack (wait this is actually happening?), and spending time with people who I might not see for a while. What activities do we choose to partake in?

Fish Market gorge fest with Dad.

Mother/daughter errand runs and mid-afternoon coffee breaks.

Going to Urban Outfitters with my friend who would win Most Likely to be Wearing Boden (British mom clothing line) in pursuit of "going out clothes". Cue life reevaluation. 

Playing world cup on the high school field.

Dinner dates to Nabeel's and Steel City Pops, where the nice mother-like lady tries to set us up with her "nice Italian boy". 

Trips to Michaels to get mason jars, picture frames, and Martha Steward garland.

I'm really going to miss this place, and these people.

Allie

Promise me you will not spend so much time treading water and trying to keep you head above the waves that you forget, truly forget, how much you have always loved to swim. 

– Tyler Knott Gregson

Thursday Morning Revelations

I started today, the day that just so happens to be my two week mark until move in day, on a really hard, muggy, mostly miserable run. No worries though, I went to bed at 3 AM and that bed was actually a couch because my bed was filled with three of my friends. In the time since my rising at 6:45, I have run, talked to Marilyn for 30 minutes, showered, blew dry my hair, and read Jesus Calling. Talk about productivity. And as I wait for the four sleeping angels that practically inhabit my house to wake up so we can continue our debate we started at 2 last night about where to go to breakfast, I was doing my morning devo time.

This morning was a perfect example of how I spend my days. Planning. Running. Preparing. Organizing. Filling my time with errands to run, people to see, and tasks to accomplish. Recently, I've started to let God become one of the items on my morning to-do list, and guys, it's a daily struggle to give Him the time and attention He deserves. God is so much more than an item to check off, a daily chore to get done so that I feel productive, and satisfied with my meager existence. 

This morning, Jesus Calling was screaming what I've been trying to understand myself for the past week or two. There is an infinite vast of time, and God has a purpose for every single second. Some are intended to get stuff done, like I'm so good at doing. But some are intended to relax, to talk to friends, to run, and to spend time totally incased in God.

 Sarah Young writes, "All that planning ties you up in knots and distracts you from Me. Attentiveness to Me is not only for your quiet time, but for all your time. As you look to Me, I show you what to do now and next."

God proclaims His ability to provide and His desire for us to allow Him to do just so. The Israelites received daily manna from the heavens, just the amount they needed, in the exact time frame they needed it. Day to day living and reliance was what God intended for them, and through His planning and purpose, they lived forty years in the desert and later became a people of a great nation. My obsessive planning limits God, and He has such a better purpose than that! He reiterates that He has a time for EVERYTHING, and all I have to do is allow Him to become my base, what all I do is centered off of.

Planning isn't bad, and neither is being able to get things done. Some of my friends upstairs count on me to remind them of deadlines, or preparations to be made, and that ability is a gift from God, not to use against Him. But I'm done letting my desire to push, and move, and achieve, rob me from the utter and simple freedom He is waiting to supply me with.

To the moon and back,

Allie

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER

I'd dare to make more mistakes next time.
  I'd relax, I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.
  I would take fewer things seriously.
    I would take more chances.
  
I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.
  I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
  I would perhaps have more actual troubles, 
    but I'd have fewer imaginary ones.
  
You see, I'm one of those people who live 
  sensibly and sanely hour after hour, 
    day after day.
   
Oh, I've had my moments,
  And if I had it to do over again, 
    I'd have more of them.
  In fact, I'd try to have nothing else.
    Just moments, one after another,
  instead of living so many years ahead of each day.
 
I've been one of those people who never goes anywhere 
  without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat
    and a parachute.
If I had to do it again, I would travel lighter than I have.

If I had my life to live over,
  I would start barefoot earlier in the spring
      and stay that way later in the fall.
  I would go to more dances.
  I would ride more merry-go-rounds.
  I would pick more daisies.

   Nadine Stair,
   85 years old.

Happy Saturday!

You'll never guessed what happened again this morning.

I face planted running again. Here I am, 7:33 AM, jogging through Crestline right as people are about to stir about to go retrieve their bagels, or Bob lattes, or on their own runs, and I completely eat it right in the middle of all it. Don't worry guys, a really nice man made sure I was okay and then gave me some pointers to prevent the occurrence from becoming habit. The damage wasn't as bad as last week, but opened up one of the scabs on my right hand that proceeded to gush blood for the last mile of my run. 

Everything's going to be okay though, because there's not much that Dillard House blackberry jam, a Spongebob bandaid and a day trip to Auburn can't fix.

Stay sweet,

Allie

The Day I Decided to Not Become a Hipster

And there I was. 

Sitting in my favorite chair in the den, watching Antiques Roadshow with a cup of coffee while simultaneously grazing StumbleUpon for inspirational quotes, that it hit me. 

It's really not that fun trying to be a hipster.

For the past year, I've gotten caught up in the whole "hipster" scene. And when I say "gotten caught up", I really mean I've "tried" to get caught up. You know what I'm referring to, right? The jean shorts, vague musical tastes, and deep individualistic blogger types who take pride in being different from everyone else. And I fell head over heels into the craze, and rather unsuccessfully, attempted to mold myself into the societal rebel who does what she wants because she's too unique to march to the beat to any drummer, but her own. 

Let's examine my person. I bake/think about baking more than any person under the age of thirty who is unmarried ever should. Today I even read a Barefoot Contessa cookbook at work and I don't know if you're familiar with the ever so fabulous Ina Garten, but she's not what you would call a rogue Food Network host. My favorite clothing stores are J. Crew and Anthropologie, and you might think that some of those pieces are eclectic, but the ones I purchase are always the most mainstream items in the place. In my free time, I go get frozen yogurt, go on power walks with friends, and wander around Mountain Brook looking for ways to fill my time. My favorite school book I've ever read is Pride and Prejudice  because I was relieved to have a nice happy ending for once. I spend my days jamming to country music, John Mayer, Train, and Demi Lovato. 

In my attempt to be a hipster, I tried to buy clothes I wasn't insane about at Urban Outfitters. I painted my nails Lincoln Park After Dark AKA black. I spent hours deciding about which Ray Bans to get and ended up with a safe pair of wayfarers. I denied any invitation to view The Notebook just so that I could say that I'm a 18 year old girl who has no idea what "If you're a bird, I'm a bird" even means. It's now that it all clicks, though. If you're not really a hipster, it's not fun to pretend to be one.

So, world, I have decided to not be a hipster.
*cries of disappointment, mass confusion, and wails of agony*

In abandon of my former lifestyle, I choose to embrace my "Cajun Shrimp" colored nails, Hot pink J. Crew shorts, and the cookie recipe I just found online. I might explore the style choices of nautical, considering 50% percent of my wardrobe is stripes and I would give anything in the world to climb to the top of a light house. Maybe I'll go with the classic Southern charm persona as my countdown to Alabama football season is slowly dwindling day by day and I help myself to a third serving of collard greens. Who knows, I might even watch The Notebook.

My friends who actually read this will probably be relieved that I am ceasing in this pursuit, and I can't say I'm not excited too. But no worries, I'm sure to find some other area to consume my life around and to bug bystanders about to no end.

I'll end this strange post (this might actually take the cake for the most ridiculous thing I have ever written, including my college essay about accepting myself as a cat person) with a brain teaser for you. The other morning, I was enjoying a lovely morning run down a local gravel trail in the Brook. I was pumping away, full speed ahead...until I caught a root and completely ATE IT. Literally slid on my stomach five feet. I stood up quickly, dusted myself off, evaluated the scratches on my palms and elbows, and proceeded to look around for bystanders. There was none, so I proceeded on my run like nothing happened.
So here's the riddle that gives a nod to the stand by "if a tree falls in the woods" enigma : if Allison wipes out on a trail, and no one is around to see it, is it still embarrassing?
Yes. Yes it is.

To the moon and back,
Allie

"There's so much that we miss, trying so hard to be rich and famous, pretty and thin, to win. It's a shame that youth is wasted on the young."
-"You Can Finally Meet My Mom", Train

Follow Up

Living Hope, (read about them here) was once one of five organizations in the world that was given the United States funding designated towards the fight against HIV and AIDS. They used this subside to feed, teach, and encourage the children I came to know in the two weeks I was there. 

When the new office took over, this funding was eliminated. I would even be one would think that cutting international funding would be a good way to fix our nation's failing economy. It's easy to see that America has problems of our own that need serious attention, but the issues that were given a new priority were "condoms, abortion clinics, and men having sex with men." Just by listening to John and Avril Thomas (the founders) passionately describe their mission goals and witnessing first hand the impact Living Hope has in Cape Town, as well as people all over the world, it is close to impossible to not see the great power and change they are invoking. They have a purpose, they're aims are firmly rooted in Christ, and they effectively work day after day seeking to aid God's kingdom. Living Hope sees a need, and addresses it in the most productive way possible for both sides. They take out no loans, carry no debts, and are currently working to resupply their funds that will disappear October 2012. 

One of their methods is the DAD program, or Dollar A Day. 31 dollars a month. They desire to find 1000 DADS, and right now they only have 300. Being there and listening to John and Avril, who take time out of their busy lives to come and talk to each team to explain every aspect of their mission, discuss their predicament influenced me to come home and organize my finances so that I can become a DAD. I'm infamous in my family for being the worst at managing money, and for years I've been trying to get on board. This was the straw that broke the camel's back. I was inspired to support Living Hope and finally had the initiative to organize my weak spot for the glory of God's work. 

Join me, blog bud, in Living Hope's mission to get to 1000 DADs. It's easy, and I can assure you that I have seen the money at work. It's not misused, it's not vaguely spread, but rather is intentionally prayed over and sent to where the need is most. Living Hope is one of the best run and intentional organizations I've ever seen, and I invite you to take part in their effort to help those who hurt. 

Thanks y'all!

Allie

"Forgive and give as it was your last opportunity. Love like there's no tomorrow. And if tomorrow comes, love again."
- Mother Theresa

This Time for Africa

I don’t even know how to start this post.

 In the most un-cliché way possible, these past two weeks have been an once-in-a-lifetime experience. And this is coming from the girl who hates anything described as “life changing” or any other cheesy idiomatic expressions people use to depict trips and mission work. But here I am, using those words to illustrate to you what I experienced. God has shown me not only a lot about him, but also a lot about myself. Some of these things were easier to discover than others, and some were frankly difficult to swallow, but all needed to be explored, examined, and addressed.

Well, in case you haven’t figured this out already, I survived the planes flights. They were looooonnnngggggg and I have this chronic inability to not sleep on airplanes unlike many of my friends who took their naps for granted while I stayed up and watched on average three movies per flight. We had a day layover in London where we literally bolted through the city to get as much as the highlights in as possible in the 9 hours we did have. Which by the way, LOVE London. Not necessarily the touristy Picadilly Square, but more so the more local areas away from all the action packed areas that were filled with Olympic preparations. Definitely need to make it back there when I have more than 9 hours to spend.

Taking London.

We made it to Cape Town at about 8 AM on Friday morning and headed straight to The Team House. This house is located on the beautiful Noordhoek Beach and is perfectly stocked with Magnum ice cream bars, tea and coffee, and space heaters. Literally, I keep looking around and wondering if this was real life. Check out my pictures and see for yourself. The next two days were spent sightseeing, and it seems like we weren't really getting any of our work done, but I PROMISE, that comes later!

We look like angels and I dig it.

Seaside just isn't going to cut it. Ever.

Our boardwalk.

Oh, you. Casually standing on mermaid boulders.

To complete my Nelson Mandela biography (which by the way readers, is kind of a slow read, especially when you are reading it in a silent plane over the western coast of Africa), we got to go to the District 6 museum and get a history lesson on the Apartheid. After, we went to Green Market Square to souvenir shop. While others grabbed their rugby jerseys, bracelets, headbands, Zulu spears, and other such items, I got one coffee mug. So what if I'm not big on souvenir shopping! But I was a pro at bargaining...got my mug down 50 rand from original price. Get on my level. We also ate lunch at the Old Biscuit Mill, which was pretty much my favorite thing out of my entire life. I might be exaggerating, or I might not be. I had waffles with caramel, bananas, and whipped cream and they were glorious. Much of our sight seeing consisted of going up tall mountains and look at the many views. Breath. Taking. Day 1 was at Chapman's Peak, where it was too cloudy to see at all but we later returned when it cleared up. Turns out there was an ocean in that thick mist! Who knew! We also went to the Water Front Mall to do even more souvenir shopping. And I went against my own personal philosophy and got a t shirt. Come on guys, it was in the back of the rugby store, on sale, and says, "Pure Protea, 100% South African". I look like such a baller in it. Dinner that night was at Marco's and I sampled ostrich, kudu, and springbok (antelopes) and to answer your question, they all taste like steak.

District 6 Museum

Chapman's Peak.

Green Market Square. Check out that Inviticus themed scarf.

Old Biscuit Mill with my main gal.

The Water Front.

Old Biscuit Mill waffles from heaven. PS I'm not fat, Anne is just picky and doesn't like 90% of food.

That's the world cup soccer dome, what can you see from your mall?

Day 3 was spent going to church at King of Kings Baptist, and a local Cosi church in Masi. The Masi church was my favorite because it was all in Cosi, the clicking language of South Africa, and I think I sat down for 30 seconds total. We were up dancing, singing, laughing, and simply praising the same God that I worship at home in my church at home. It reminded me that God is a God of energy, and enthusiasm, a nice reminder especially for the week ahead. After church, we ate one of my favorite meals EVER at this farmers market down the street from the team house. I ordered the pie of the day, which was chicken, and it was exactly what I needed to warm me up and to accompany my cafe americano. My table also purchased a fresh baguette and dipped it in a bottle of olive oil. Divine.

Farmer's Market.

The view. Wowzas.

My lunch. Check out the heart! Oh and french fries = chips.

Our next item on the agenda was to go to Cape Point and Cape of Good Hope, the most south western point of South Africa. I  was very thankful that I opted for the skinny jeans and sweater route rather than maxi dress as we hiked up to the lighthouse on Cape Point. And while we trekked up, I was mainly trying to keep my breath, as well as keep my eyes peeled for baboons, and didn't really understand what awaited me at the top. When I finally arrived, I looked out over the Indian and Atlantic Oceans, on the tip of Africa, and for one of the first times ever, the view took my breath away. Until this point, I would awaken in the midst of a nighttime storm, shaking and terrified about being so far away from home on the tip of a very, very big continent. But as I stood there overlooking, well, the world, I finally understood the phrase,"When your heart is full of love, what room is there for fear?"

It clicked.

I had my friends, some new, some old, all around me and all who sincerely loved me. They desired to see me succeed, and to be the light that Christ called us all to minister. I didn't travel this far away for nothing. When you get to the root of it, I came because I loved God and came to love His people who deserve to know the warmth that I often take for granted. What do I have to fear? It was with this thought that I walked down the hillside, and into the van to drive back to the team house. This thought danced through my head as I cuddled up in my bunk bed and Wayne's football sweatpants in the middle of a howling windstorm, with a hot meal from Nadine (our cook) filling my stomach, and began to enter the next four days.

Werking on the most southeastern point of Africa.

I really like them.

LIGHTHOUSE. I'm currently in my nautical obsession phase.

Side note: our job here was working with Living Hope, an organization started to combat the HIV that plagued the area around Cape Town. We ran the holiday clubs for kids, and also, gave the full time staff a much needed break from being the center of attention. Trust me, after one day of camp, I couldn't comprehend how they could handle months or years of this exhaustion and sometimes heartbreak, but also the whispers of hope that come quietly each day at different times.

Every day followed the same schedule. Wake up in time for breakfast at seven. Leave by 7:30. Devotion at the Capricorn center at 8. Leave for Overcome for kids camp at 8:30. Play and encourage mass chaos until 10:30. Possibly have a craft, or go straight to share a Bible story. Help serve lunch. Leave by 11:30 to meet up with the other half of our team that was at Capricorn for their kids camp. Eat lunch of sandwiches on the best bread known to mankind with fresh fruit at False Bay, watch surfers, and get a coffee and pastry from Knead. Head to Capricorn for teens camp to chill, play net ball, make bracelets, and have a devotion. At around 4:30, we'd all pile in the vans and pass out on the way home.

One thing I might not have publicly blasted about myself on this ranting outlet of mine is that I tend to think children don't like me. I was kind of freaked out about having to entertain 60 kids for 2 hours every day, and also had the fear (there it is again) that they wouldn't like me. After about five minutes, I realized this fear was useless. They hug, they hula hoop, they dance, they kick a ball, they smile, and they do all this while wanting to remain in a 5 foot radius of you. I discovered I'm really great at their favorite game of "put me on your neck!" because, after all, I was the queen of shoulder sits in cheerleading. I was also a human roller coaster, and I would grab their hands and spin them off the ground. Nights at the team house were spent getting neck massages and downing Advil PM's to cope with my job, but I loved it.

Meet my friend fondly known as Smiley. I'm a positive influence I swear. 

Balloons = filling up with the holy spirit. 

Me and Smiley again. 

The spinning game.

"Put me on your shoulders!" Alright.

After our last day of camp.

On the first night, after camp, we were gathered around the living room before we had devotion. I was praying and journaling (aka getting caught up last minute) and I was convicted by what my motivations were. Earlier in the day, I started to think about giving my testimony at teen club, but I wondered if my motivation was to bring the glory to Him, or to myself. I decided then and there that my aims weren't appropriate, and until God presented an opportunity, I would remain hushed publicly. We had our devotion, and right as we were about to break, our leader, Caleb, asked if anyone would like to lead devotion the next day for the entire group. As in our team, and all the Living Hope staff members.

Silence.

No volunteers spoke up. I think to myself, "God, we've talked about this. I don't need to speak so I'm good to sit here quietly."

More silence. Caleb threatens to volunteer one of us himself.

Silence. Then, a creaking feeling entered the back of my mind.
Allison.


I volunteered.
This was a God wink in it's fullest. With God I kept my motivations in check, and allowed him to stand at my side to give me the words I lacked. I don't tell you this to say, "Look how great I am! I volunteered to speak up as a visitor in the youth group and I felt God move through me! I'm literally such a giver! Give, give, give." I'm sharing this story to show God's methods, and His perfect timing and presence.

What did I speak about?
Fear.

I did my best, and it wasn't standard with the usual speakers, but I was elated that my heart was pure. To HIM be the glory. Not me.

The week flew by, and before we knew it, it was our last day. We said goodbye to the kids, and I felt that awful sinking feeling of conviction again. Some of my friends were crying over leaving these kids. And I didn't. Tears wouldn't come. Did I care about each and everyone of them? Yes. Was I said to leave? Yes. But then why wasn't I racked emotionally like my friends? I still don't know the answer.

Our week concluded with a tour of Living Hope, in which I saw the organization not just as a one aspect of showing love to kids. But other components of Living Care, Living Right, Living Way, and Living Grace, all of which were formed to address every single issue that the people of these communities face, such as poverty, job-lessness, disease, sexual immorality, and apathy. I realized that I didn't have to serve purely in kids, but I could serve in a number of ways utilizing my talents that God has graced me with. I love to write, I love to organize, I love to clean kitchens and serve others in basic ways, I love to create anything and everything. The tour showed the areas across the town that they work in, and also reiterated that if we do decide to come back for an extended amount of time, they would work with us to perfectly place us to serve.

While my friends were certain they wanted to come back, I was hesitant. They were talking for sophomore year second semester, or next summer, or even in January, but I had that feeling of guilt come back that I felt leaving the kids when I didn't possess that deep desire. When we first flew into Cape Town, my first thought was, "I better enjoy this trip, because odds of me coming this far away on a long plane ride again are slim to done." By the end of the two weeks, I knew that I will be coming back. I can't tell you when, or what I will be doing, or even if it will be while I'm still young. But just as I allowed God to tell me when to speak, I'll allow Him to tell me when to return. And as long as it is in His plan, I will be back.

Other sights we saw on our last two weeks were Table Mountain, another trip to the Water Front, Penguin spotting, and my favorite, a scenic drive through the beautiful city of Cape Town. My favorite area I saw was Camps Bay. Hills and mountains were dotted with beautiful homes overlooking the water, accompanied by shops and cafes. Sunday, we went church at Capricorn for one last time and had our last meal at this habor-side restaurant in Simon's Town.

I can't even begin to tell you how much I love these people to pieces.

Chapman's Peak minus mist. Oh look we're angels again!

Meet my new bestie, Sarah. You can find her here.

Last girl picture.

Seeing some penguins.

So, to wrap this extraordinary long post up, what have I taken home with me from South Africa? I have a strange obsession with cafes and bakeries, and I want to take up baking bread. Now that I have flown for 43 hours total, over three continents, I'm starting to lose my fear of flying. If the plane was going to crash, I'm pretty sure it would have taking off in a storm in Cape Town. Cut back on coffee and your teeth and caffeine levels will thank you, but chai tea is an adequate subsitute. While my gifts might not be with children, that doesn't mean I'm not strong in shoulder rides, swinging hugs, and other areas of service. I can't go into new places with new people assuming they automatically hate me, because no normal human being thinks like that. God surprises you. It's never too late to reconcile. Being present, fully and wholly present in a place across the world, is the most freeing thing one can do. As I sit in a mountain house in Cashiers, NC, comfy and content, I remember that my friends are sound asleep, preparing for a day of kids camps, serving meals, having to tell someone that they are HIV positive, and craning for the energy to pour into the people they care for so much. I have a massive respect for these people, and I greater appreciate for what's important. Dorm room duvet covers aren't. An added day of rush isn't. Gaining a pound isn't the worst thing that can happen. I'm thankful for the opportunities I have to enjoy, but aware that they are not my own, but God's to use through me.

It's good to be back, bloggers, but I think part of my heart is left in a storage container in a community called Overcome, on the outskirts of Cape Town.

Allie

"I've learned that courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear."
- Nelson Mandela

"For I have not given you a spirit of timidity that makes you slave again to fear, but a spirit of power, love, and self-discipline."
- 2 Timothy 1:8