a grateful people

Thanksgiving is here...I'm giving thanks. I have been blessed with so much--more than I could ever ask for. It's definitely been a rocky year, and God knows I've not been quiet about it, but today, I'm reflecting on things I am thankful for.

• Christ
• Freedom
• Grace
• John and Cathi Warren...for everything and more
• Siblings: Aubrey Russell; Kristen Slaughter; Annie Welty; Cathryn Longenbaugh; Nathan Warren; Beth Warren; Caleb Warren; Timothy Warren...I couldn't begin to imagine a better group of people to call my brothers and sisters
• In-laws: Dirk Russell; Dave Slaughter; Caleb Welty; Tony Longenbaugh...for taking such good care of my sisters
• Nephews and nieces: Jonathan; David; Joshua; Isaac; Abigail; Samuel; Molly; Warren; Henry; Carrie; Liam; Baby Slaughter; Erin; Judah; Savannah; Longenbaby...you light up my life
• Dear friends: Cheyenne Sabo; Hannah Cisarik; Chris White; Hayden Fletcher; Cristen Gauthier; Rachel Wells (and many others)...I can't tell you how incredible these people are
• My job and the fabulous girls I work with...I know God put me there and with them for a reason
• My piano...for still being there for me, whenever I need it
• My church family...what an excellent, loving group of believers
• The girl at the Starbucks in Barnes&Noble at La Cantera...she always knows what I'll order, and she always makes me smile
• Lewis Wells and Hillary McFarland...God uses these amazing Christians in such astounding ways
• My red platform heels...they make me feel pretty
• My adorable pink computer...for not dying...yet
• This blog...for helping me keep track of my rambling, disorganized thoughts

I hope your Thanksgiving Day is filled with 100000000009 reasons to be thankful.

Thank YOU.

In love and thanks,
Shelley

remember this time?

I've been feeling very nostalgic...it happens every time Fall comes around. Go figure.

I remember when I turned 6, Beth and I had our birthday party in an almost-empty house, seeing as how we were gearing up for an overseas move the following week. Pawpop and Grandma gave us Barbie balloons. We thought it was strange, since we didn't play with Barbies. But the balloons were nice.

I remember getting lost at Waikiki Beach 2 weeks after moving to Hawaii. Beth knows she left me on purpose.

I remember spending the night at my friend Sarah's house, getting my hair caught in a hairbrush and having to cut my hair off the brush at 2 am. We laughed so hard.

I remember turning 7 during Vacation Bible School, and getting my first Bible.

I remember my daddy baptizing me at the North Shore.*

I remember decorating the Easter Cross with all kinds of flowers with Beth and our friends Sarah, Hannah and Stephanie. It was beautiful.*

I remember boarding the plane to move back to San Antonio. I can only count on one hand the number of times I have cried that hard.

I remember hating San Antonio with a white hot fiery passion.

I remember getting my ears pierced. It didn't hurt.

I remember the first Sunday of Covenant of Grace, in a tiny hotel banquet room, with a handful of wonderful families.

I remember meeting Ms. Penny...she understood me right away. It blew my mind.

I remember singing For Good with my friend Nicole.

I remember taking pictures on a rainy day with my friends Hannah and Rachel.*

I remember going out to eat in Fort Worth with my parents and my eight brothers and sisters...just us. I think that's the only time that has ever happened. We ate lots of sopapillas.*

I remember co-producing a 10 minute movie with my friend Andy and a bunch of fabulous people.

I remember co-directing Psalty's Christmas Calamity with CJ and Beth. It was then that I was given the nickname, "Psalty Nazi." Let's just say I have a very, very loud yelling voice.

I remember going hiking with most of my family, and coming home exhausted, but with enough energy to wolf down mom's tuna stuffed potatoes, and cast lots for the leftovers.*

I remember my first day at Northwest Vista. 16 years old, and no idea what the hell I was doing. I never turned in homework in French 1, because I was under the impression that homework assignments were optional.

I remember going to see Wicked.*

I remember the night when my friend Cheyenne and I sat in my bed and, for the first time, talked about one day being sisters.

I remember going to the zoo over spring break with Nathan and our friends Hannah, Rachel and Chris. Nathan was blocking the rhino.*

I remember my senior recital. It scared me to death, it stressed me out beyond measure, but I'm so glad I did it.

I remember seeing Toy Story 3 at midnight with my friends on my 18th birthday.

I remember sitting at Starbucks with my friend Josh after smoking my first cigarette, talking about nearly everything.*

I remember Beth piercing my ears with a piercing gun. She was more freaked out than I was.

I remember CJ's wedding. I miss that day.*

*My favorite days.

I believe that everything--every person, place, situation you experience changes you. Not drastically, of course, but you are ever so slightly different than you were before each new encounter. This helps me to see the positive side to things...without each and every thing that has happened to me, I wouldn't be exactly who I am today.

Love,

Shelley

less like scars and more like character

I am rebuilding.

I am relinquishing bitterness, resentment, longing, sad songs, arguing, self-doubt, insomnia and hurt.

I am not broken. It may have felt that way, but I am whole, I am full of life and love, and I refuse to be jaded or cynical or weak.

There is not a single person who I do not love.

I tip my hat to friends like Hillary and Lewis who have the strength and courage to use their own experiences to 1) speak out against those who would manipulate Christians' hearts and minds using their own version of the Gospel, and 2) be comfort and sound counsel for those being wounded by the same movements. Perhaps one day I will be in a state of mind to do the same, but for now, I enjoy sharing what these wonderfully articulate writers have to say.

During these past several weeks and months, I realized for the 18930849th time that I truly have the greatest family. They will always be here for me, even when I'm too miserable to notice. I don't deserve them, but I thank God every day for them.

God also surrounded me with the most loving, caring, honest and supportive brothers and sisters in Christ who I am so, so blessed to call my friends.

My life has purpose.

I am not looking back. I am looking ahead.

When I get to Heaven, God will not care that I wore pants, that I didn't believe in courtship or that I listened to music other than K LOVE. He cares about His children, not the rules they make for themselves.

I will go where He leads. Nowhere else.

In peace and love,

Shelley

human

Today's Song of the Day on my sidebar is brought to you by one of my favorite bands, The Killers, and this song is one of their best. I've discussed with several people the meaning of this song, and this is the part where I'll try that again, for the sake of clarification. This is how I understand the song, and perhaps, if you know me well, you can see why it means so much to me.

Are we human, or are we dancer? This is not an arbitrary, meaninglessly poetic question. It is actually very thought-provoking. In this context, dancer is used disparagingly. A human thinks, feels, acts based on instinct and personal decision. A dancer is controlled by someone else...similar to a puppet. A dancer has no will, but rather, only does what someone else has taught or told them. This is not a prison--dancers put themselves in this position. Up to the platform of surrender, I was brought but I was kind.

Close your eyes, clear your heart, cut the cord. This line is confusing. On the one hand, it could be a reference to surrendering all personal responsibility to someone else and losing your own life force--essentially, belonging to someone else and dancing for them. On the other hand, it could be just the opposite, with cutting the cord referring to being released from another person (i.e. cutting an umbilical cord). Perhaps it is meant to be taken either way, depending on if the reader/listener feels we are human or dancer. I'm still not sure which way I want to take it.

The second verse explores the reality of being a dancer. Pay my respects to grace and virtue, send my condolences to good, give my regards to soul and romance...so long to devotion...wave goodbye, wish me well, you've gotta let me go. If we go with the implication that dancers don't feel (again, in THIS context), then they have to let go of all of the above. Grace, virtue, good, soul, romance, devotion...they are all meaningless to a dancer (--side note: grace in its abstract, mental form--obviously, dancers possess massive amounts of physical grace).

My sign is vital, my hands are cold...there is no message we're receiving, let me know, is your heart still beating? Vital signs indicate that a person {>human<} is alive, whereas cold hands are associated with a lack of life or warmth. A beating heart is another sign of life. Would a dancer know if their heart wasn't beating, though?

Throughout the song, the singer seems to imply that we are, in fact, dancer, but keeps going back to the question: which are we? I'm on my knees looking for the answer. The lead singer of The Killers, Brandon Flowers, is a devout Mormon. It could be that this question so puzzles him that he is asking God for help. This is strangely coincidental, seeing as how God is the only One for whom humans should dance. That was not the point of the question, however. As a Mormon, Flowers understands that he is to follow God's commandments (whether or not I agree with him on what those commandments are is irrelevant here). Flowers is talking about dancing for people--a dancer who is willing to make their every move based on direction from someone else.

In an interview, Brandon Flowers said that he was inspired to write this song when he heard a friend of his complain that "we are raising a generation of dancers" with dancers having the same unfavorable context. I sincerely hope that my generation is not one of dancers, and I won't claim that I am one or the other. All I can say is I wish I was in love with a human.

Love,

Shelley

it can be a girl's name...

In case you don't know, my father is one of the greatest men who has ever lived. And as such, he never, ever runs out of wisdom which he lovingly imparts to his children. His most famous phrase (except for maybe, "I said to myself, 'self!'") is "Give grace." Those two words have built my family.

Dad has been saying them for years, but I never fully understood the concept of "giving grace" until about a year ago. Someone permanently close to me had done me a great disservice (or so it seemed at the time). My dad was not with me, so my natural thought was, "What would Dad do?" Immediately, I answered myself. Give grace. It didn't matter what this person had done, it didn't matter that my feelings were hurt, it didn't matter that I "knew" I was in the right. I needed to give grace. It was so easy and suddenly seemed so natural. It was a watershed moment for me. I began to deconstruct this idea of giving grace.

The act of giving grace is universal. It doesn't matter if someone has treated you poorly, you have been wrongfully accused, you have been judged harshly, you have been taken advantage of.... Giving grace is realizing that you are no better than the one who offends you, that you are capable of making the same mistakes as them, and that you choose to forgive them and treat them with love rather than bear a grudge against them.

After coming to this great moment of realization, I immediately started seeing the world differently. Instead of seeing what the world could do for me or what the world had done to me, I saw the world as being filled with opportunities for grace. In the past year, I have been wronged by many people. And every time, when anger, resentment and bitterness would well up inside me, I would hear my dad..."Give grace, Shelley." And each time, it got even easier. No wonder my dad can do it without batting an eye. At some point (probably learning it from his most excellent parents), he learned to give grace. And that's how he and my mother live their lives. My parents (and my whole family) have had run-ins with not-so-pleasant people. People who think we live under a rock, people who think we're going to hell because we watch movies or wear pants, and many other kinds. But every time, it's the same. Give grace. We don't need to be concerned with how others view us or treat us. All we can do is extend grace to them and pray that we are a ministry to them.

God saved us by grace alone. If He imparted saving grace to us, why shouldn't we give grace to others?

Always, always give grace.

Love, Shelley.

i'm feelin good

I got to thinking yesterday: I've finished my college classes for the semester, by the end of this month I'll be finished with the last of my high school requirements, by June 5 I'll have finished my senior piano recital. I made the decision to take a gap year next year, for many reasons. So now the questions has hit me: what in the world am I going to do with myself? I'll have an entire year to regain the sanity and order that left me during high school, but beyond continuing to pursue piano and singing, I haven't made very many plans. So I figured I should make some.

During my gap year, I want to:

• get a REAL job
• get my driver's license
• take a road trip by myself
• change someone's life
• smoke a cigarette...just one, once
• become trustworthy
• play pretty music with my friends...often
• stop pretending I'm more hipster than I really am
• [finally] learn to play my organ
• read more books
• start applying myself more to church music
• say "thank you" more
• grow up

Hmm. I'll probably add more as I think of them. That should keep me busy for a while, I'd imagine.