I Yet Live [2021 in a nutshell and looking forward to 2022]

*blows dust off blog*

*squints and looks around*

*taps microphone*

Hello?

*really bad feedback*

Did I fall off the face of the earth for like a year? Yes, yes, I did that. It was I. I’ll admit it was me who in fact did that.

*coughs awkwardly*

But I yet live, and it’s time to get back to business.

What’s new?

I’m engaged!

Lol, no I’m not. I thought it’d be funny to throw that out there for the lolz, especially for the extended family wait what I would never.

What’s new (for realz)? This will cover the tail end of 2020 and all of 2021. After that I’ll reminisce about 2022 (yes, I said reminisce. About the future. Because I can do anything here, boo.)

  • My small group multiplied (translation: the group of people that I meet with from my church to discuss the Bible and grow in community got too big to be one group and so we split into two groups).
  • The 2020 election happened. Yep. I remember thinking the 2016 election cycle was a doozie, and now we all know better.
  • I left social media, no regrets.
  • I moved!–still in Texas, still part of the same church, just a new house and new roommates.
  • The Gray Havens released their new album Gray Flower track by track (thank the Lamb for that).
  • I saw Jesus save some people very dear to me and got to see them baptized (best. day. of. my life.).
  • I haven’t been doing much novel-writing in the last year or so…
  • But I have been doing some songwriting!
  • I turned 23.
  • Lost some more idols, survived, know Jesus better, etc.
  • Survived Snowmaggedon in Texas (maybe I’ll write a post about it because it’s coming up in the one year anniversary and it was wild; it made Covid look like the kiddie apocalypse)
  • Had several identity crises and have found myself in Jesus a little more each time.
  • Broke my coffee addiction.
  • Rekindled my coffee addiction.
  • Harbored unforgiveness and bitterness, Jesus said, “Don’t do that”, and I repented.
  • Used to think repentance was beating myself up until I was “sorry enough” but by God’s kindness to me through friends, small group leaders, and the Bible I learned what repentance actually is (a future blog post perhaps?)
  • Lost some more ambitions and aspirations because God’s call on my life is better than what I could want for myself.
  • Fought with a close friend, sinned against her a lot. Reader, she forgave me. I’ve never known reconciliation like this. The blood of Jesus is truly miraculous.
  • Locked my keys in my car. With my phone. At a sketchy gas station. At 10:00 pm. I survived.
  • My ol’ Volvo (the Daydream) died on the side of the road. 25 of my friends from my church pitched in and bought me a car (like wait, what? They did what?). Reader, this is a really nice car.
  • Through being gifted the extravagantly beautiful car, I learned a bit more the abundance in God’s heart for me, that he doesn’t give the bare minimum but that his love goes, and has always gone, above and beyond.
  • Found out that 69 degrees Fahrenheit is absolute warmest I can sleep in or else I will straight up perish.
  • Came to the end of myself like 14 times and received everything I needed straight from the hand of my Father in heaven.
  • Learned that the chief end of an avocado is to carry everything bagel seasoning from the can to my mouth.
  • Discovered part of my purpose in life is wearing velvet pants as often as possible (we’re just at the beginning of this epic new velvet pant age in my life).

2022

  • Still absent-minded and forget to reply to texts, emails, and phone calls.
  • Still learning to receive grace.
  • Still trying not to strive so much (lol, “trying not the strive”).
  • Still get discouraged and listen to the lies of despair instead of believing the gloriously light truth of Jesus.
  • Still keep finding out I’m not perfect and still keep acting like it’s the End of the WorldTM (for sure went and cried in my room when I found out I don’t put my dishes away like an adult human should [“Found out?” you say. “Yes, found out,” says I. One of my roommates literally had to sit down with me and tell me that I don’t put my dishes away. I would wash them, fill up the drying rack, go along my merry way, and forget about them. And then one of my roommates would put them away for me. I’m not going to say anything more than that.]).
  • I did it. I changed the design of this blog again. I changed the header. And the colors. And unraveled all the work I spent in 2018 and 2019 and 2020 trying to have a cohesive “look/brand” that I was going to stick to. I threw it all out the window (if you’re reading this in your inbox, get yourself on over the main website, my faithful friend, and check out the new look; I didn’t buy this domain for no reason [but also don’t look too closely because not all the widgets have been baptized into The New LookTM). There was no one to stop me. At least I didn’t change the name of this blog.
  • Still planning on following Jesus to my dying day and beyond.

Blogging has become an antiquated form of communication, but that’s all right with my little old soul. I won’t do it much (life is too full–so much to do and so little time; I feel that pressure against my soul keenly), but I’ll do it every now and then (my goal in my bullet journal is 20 posts in 2022; we’ll see if I make it).

To anyone out there still tracking with this old rag Penprints and me, I’m back from the dead in more ways than one and of course have many, many thoughts on all matters with varying degrees of importance, helpfulness, etc..

And you know I’ll share them.

Further up and further in,

Rosalie <3

p.s. – yes, I for sure also changed my closing greeting. It had to be C.S. Lewis-ish. I’ve been signing off wrong for the last ten years of blogging. It’s fine; I fixed it now.

My Dear Future [an open letter] [volume ii]

My Dear Future

My dear Future,

You’ve been bothering me again in recent months, invading my thoughts. I’d thought I’d dealt with you in my last letter, but I suppose I’ll need to deal with you in some manner for the rest of my life. But we’ve really got to stop doing this. Don’t pretend you’re innocent.

“What about tomorrow?” you constantly whisper. “What about next week, next month, next decade?”

What about when one of my roommates gets married later this month? It’s going to be so good but so sad since she’s become one of my dearest friends and will (understandably) be moving out.

What about when the new roommate moves in? What will that be like?

Questions. Questions. Questions.

All you bring up is questions, Future.

Questions about when my church is going to be strong enough to start planting other churches. I wonder who God will call to go and when. My best friends? Me? Where will we be sent first?

Questions about my small group. When will we be able to multiply (split from one big group into two smaller groups)? Which group will God call me to? Which friends will I stay with, which ones will I separate from?

Questions about tomorrow and later this week. Will they be smooth days? Or will I be on the rocks, fighting off spiritual attack and barely riding out the growing pains of my soul?

And what about when more of my friends start dating? What then?? What will that be like? How will Jesus sanctify us all through that process? What about me? What if I were to start dating? What if I never date? How will this look, what will it be like? Will I be able to honor Jesus with it, or will it be a struggle where I refuse to lay down my will?

Future, you’re spitting out questions like crazy. My attention is often on you, Future (which is probably all part of your plan). You inspire creeping fear. You demand a plan for every eventuality and especially the impossibilities. You demand I prepare. You demand that I always be thinking of what’s to come, forgetting what’s right in front of my face.

Enough, Future.

I won’t play your game.

I’ll think of Eternity, but not you, Future. (Oh, yes, I see the difference now. Screwtape told me the difference between Eternity and you, Future, so now you don’t get to hide in ambiguity.*)

I’ll think about when I get to be face to face with my beloved Jesus. But no more questions about tomorrow or next week or what might be to come. I will look forward to what is sure—Eternity, life forever with Jesus, but that’s it, Future.

I’ve been built and called to hope for heaven, for Eternity, for Jesus.

But I exist in this moment, in this day. I live in the Present, not you, Future.

I will not survive the Present until Future hopes and fears do or do not come to pass.

I will not survive the Present even just to make it to Eternity’s golden shores.

Today is the day my Lord has made. This moment is the moment my Lord has made. I will rejoice in it. I will live it.

Right now is where I am, and right now is where I will all be. Not hands in the present and eyes on you, Future. No, instead: hands in the Present, eyes on Jesus, heart fixed on what he’s doing today.

Today’s joys and pleasures—simple and wild and mundane as they are.

Today’s battles and responsibilities.

Today’s bread.

Today’s cross.

Today’s grief.

Today’s glory.

Everything I’m given today is good. I don’t expect and get goodness only in you, Future. I get good things now, today, every day.

I’m forgetting you, Future.

Yes, I’ll pray for the things to come—the friends to be saved into Jesus’ everlasting kingdom, the sanctification the Holy Spirit will continue to bring about in me, and all such good things. But my heart, my attention, isn’t fixed on you, oh Future. My mind and attention are no longer yours to play with. My heart, my mind, my attention are no longer stuck on next month’s small group multiplication or 2022’s church plant. Not next year’s boyfriend or next decade’s singleness. Not tomorrow’s growth or next week’s grief.

So, you can shut your mouth, Future. I’m going deaf to you and all your questions because I trust my Jesus and I want what he’s giving me today.

I’ve been given today; I’m living every moment of today.

Sincerely,

Rosalie

p.s. – yeah, kids, I’m finally back at the ol’ blog. I don’t know what it’s going to look like, only that it seemed like God was nudging me to get back into the game. So here I am.

p.p.s. – you can check out the original open letter that I wrote in 2018 to my dear future shortly before I announced that I was moving to Texas.


*In one of C.S. Lewis’s towering Screwtape Letters, he addresses the difference between being fixed on/hoping for Eternity and being obsessed with/a slave to the Future. He distinguishes Eternity and Future from each other by saying that being preoccupied with Eternity is being preoccupied with Jesus while fixating on the Future is more of being consumed with what could happen in this life—expecting things to get “better” at some vaporous Future date, fearing things will get worse, etc..

This distinction has been personally incredibly helpful because focus on Eternity reveals solid hope and faith while my fixation on the Future reveals fear and lack of trust. Both are forward-thinking, but one is far more helpful than the other.