Game Changer

It's been a long time since I've felt normal. Or like myself.

There have been brief moments (really good ones!) that I've felt it this semester, but they have been seldom. I think the closest I came was the last couple of days I spent in NI. I guess I finally felt free and non-pressured, and my fun came out.

When anxiety-ridden situations arise, my serious side comes in full force and puts my playfulness in permanent time out.

The OneThing conference was top five best decisions I've made (or others made for me) possibly in all of 2013. I only knew two of the people (there were nine in our group) well, two girls didn't want me to come at all (was told this after I was already there), and the rest didn't really know me at all.

Turned out, though, that we had a great group dynamic. The other 8 were all music majors, which meant they were all on board to sing loudly and dance in all times and in all places. In multi-part harmony.

Steve and Alec with their dream lady

There were a few awkward moments the first evening like walking into the house and being told I was sharing a bed with the one girl I'd never met or like when two of the girls made it very evident my presence was unwanted. However, the awkwardness was fleeting.

My roommate and I hit it off as though we'd known each other for all of college. And, it turns out, she knew all about me before I even got there, had seen pictures of me, too. Just didn't realize it until we got to talking (I told you my looks have changed). Then, after an, "Oh my God. You're her," she and I didn't stop talking for the next 6 hours or three nights.

We had a lot in common, she and I, and were both relieved to meet a person who "gets it." Really, so odd. The chances of the two of us specifically being put in that situation are uncommonly low. She's a sensational human. Don't think I've met anyone like her. She will be (and is) a force the devil is going to have a hard time contending with.

The conference itself was okay. Neither unbelievably lifechanging or the worst experience of my life. In many ways, it was exactly what I remember charismatic events to be:

smoke machines, laser beams, light shows. Definitely a concerty vibe. Then mix in mass chanting, dancing in the aisles, and the truly incredible talent of singing the same line over and over for over an hour, and it pretty much sums it up.

Favorite line of the conference was the (my) last evening when Francis Chan spoke. Chan, though he does recognize the Holy Spirit, is not charismatic. Many people actually resented the fact that he was a speaker because of his mainstream ways. However, he did an excellent job of connecting to us and criticizing us. The line: "I think often we fall in love with 'revival' and forget to fall in love with 'Jesus.'" Excellent. So excellent. And true. Our people like a good revival like we enjoy a good pot luck dinner. They should be plentiful and well-attended.

Every night when we'd come home, we'd all sit around in a circle and crack open my Christmas present from Kira: a book entitled "4,000 Questions to Get to Know Anyone and Everyone."

We probably logged 9 or more hours into that book, starting with the Childhood section, travelling on to the Love section and ending with the Habits section.

My two favorite questions that I answered were definition questions, asking after "Intimacy" and "Betrayal."

I'd never really given any thought to my personal definition of either, but I was really glad I was forced to.

For Intimacy, I said that it was anything which created tension. For example, silly things like playing play-doh or dancing or reading a poem you wrote aloud are intimate because there's that moment when the person you're attempting to engage in your special thing has the opportunity to laugh at you or think you're being stupid. It's a moment of brilliant opportunity. The same is true with larger things like sex (literally being naked with another person. yikes) or sharing memories or your fears concerning your character or the future or any sort of argument. Any situation in which you make a terrifying decision to reveal and share with another person something sacred or nervy to you is intimate. Even answering this question was a moment of intimacy and risk.

Betrayal comes when one person makes the conscious decision to sacrifice intimacy in favor of selfishness.

The group I shared with?

To clear up the tension about the two anti-Jamie girls, it came down to perception. They knew me by their perception of my character and not my character itself. Secondhand chatter just isn't fair, neither against me or by me. If you have concerns, go to the source or shut the frick up.
When they took the time (were stuck with me) to understand me, it turns out I wasn't what they expected, especially currently.

I don't think I've conversed or laughed that deeply for that long...possibly ever. There's a lot more I could say about it all, but I'll leave it at that.

Yeah, I shared my struggles with them and they with me, and we made each other actually engage in the discussion about them, but it was constructive and characterized by joy. The deep kind that exists even in the midst of sadness or pain. Happiness is a complacent emotion, the kind that can kill you if you hedonistically chase it. But joy? Real joy? Only beautiful paths are broken-in by joy.

We didn't do any of the prophecy rooms or such that would have been instantly set in the "soul building" category, but my soul was more fortified by those three days with those eight people than I could have even begun to think that it would or could.

I felt normal. Better than normal. I felt delighted and delighted in.