Today is one of those days I just want to be thankful for all of the ways God has been loving me.
I am grateful for... ...Alexi randomly texting me and telling me she loves me. ...talking to my mom on the phone while biking, it was a strange experience and a good one. ...the outfit I am wearing right now. Nothing better than IV freest tees, cords, and denim shirts. ...the taste of sandwiches. ...the brief sunshine before my 2:00 class. ...all of the music that has been a part of my life as of late. ...awkward moment number 72. ...seeing Molly and Andrew just because those two make me smile quite a lot. ...FINALLY seeing Jenna! Oh my word I like that girl. Don't leave me again. ...Holland coming up and giving me a hug and asking if I was okay. Sometimes, that's all I need. ...lanky IV men. ...conversations about lanky IV men. ...only three sleeps until I get to see Sam Ham! Holla! ...the fact that I get to see Amy Fred this weekend. ...my habibi and her listening ears and caring heart. ...a God who meets me in my brokenness, even when I have an ugly heart, anger, and a lack of trust. ...Justin Weber's longboard. ...catharsis.
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Three years ago Tuesday, my dad passed away. That is actually what began me blogging in April 2011; I needed an outlet to remember and express and show others a glimpse of who I am, vulnerably. One of my mentors suggested I create a legacy for my father, recognizing how he is living on within me. As my mother stated, this is a living document, one that can be added to as time goes on and I come to a more full realization of the ways I was blessed to be the daughter and youngest child of Robert Zimmerman. This is one of my favorite photos of him. It brings me joy to see him interacting with his only son, teaching him (probably very particularly) how to paint. Of course, he is rocking the flannel and someone stuck my brother in a T-shirt that is larger than his body and it makes me smile. The Legacy of My Father
...He taught me that college isn't all about getting a major and getting out. He wanted me to travel, learn new and interesting things, and have experiences that help me to better understand others. ...He taught me to work hard, mulching gardens, cleaning windows inside and out, planting trees and gardens. ...He taught me how to rest and the importance of having slow mornings. ...He taught me sacrifice, spending weekends caring for his parents and waking up early on Sundays to spend time with my mom before any of us were awake. He was NOT a morning person. ...He taught me how to laugh heartily and wholly and that almost any situation calls for humor. Even funerals. ...He taught me respect, especially for the elderly, people with disabilities and their families, and the military. ...My dad gave me his stubbornness, which can be both a gift and a curse. ...He passed on his love of cooking and experimenting in the kitchen. ...I will take my family on fall hikes and on adventurous vacations because of my father. ...He taught me that Sundays are days for family. ...He instilled in me a love of biking, camping, and seeking mountains. ...My dad taught me about photography and gave me my first 55mm, but the greatest gift he gave me in this was his encouragement that I could and should pursue this art. ...He gave me his love of doing projects, though he always did them with much more patience than I have. ...He taught me to wear clothes until they had holes in them... and then to keep wearing them. ...He taught me to dress up and look nice as a way to celebrate and bing others joy, not as a way to draw attention to myself. Though he did tell me I looked beautiful every time I dressed up and sometimes even when I didn't. ...My dad gave me a love of flannel. He is wearing a flannel shirt in probably 80% of the photos I have of him. ...He taught me that after 7:00pm, you should always have curly hair. (Only my sister will understand this) ...He taught me the power of giving up personal desires for the benefit of those he loved, such as quitting smoking for good when I was four years old. ...Although it took until I was about 16, my dad showed me that it is good for men to cry. ...My dad taught me that sometimes forgiveness comes in it's best form just resting in the other's arms. I am so blessed to be friends with Jenna. I need a friend who can say "Do you want to go on an adventure?" when she knows I've had a really rough few week. Even better is when my positive response leads to "Great! I know a cool bridge we can see! It's in Minnesota."
So on Tuesday night at 4:49pm, Jenna and I drove her trusty little silver Nissan all the way to Red Wing, MN and back. It was filled with so much laughter, good conversations, and spontaneous wanderings. I am incredibly blessed by my friendship with Jenna. Last year at this time, we had just started to become somewhat of friends. And by that I mean I was no longer terrified that she would fire me as MC for large group. Our friendship was slow, gaining trust was even slower. Even last semester, Jenna still held the role of mentor in my life. It wasn't until this semester really that we've started to become seriously good friends. Usually our time together consists of really honest conversations in booths in Davies, local coffee shops (we are so cliche it's painful), and driving around the backroads of Wisconsin. One of the things I am most grateful for in my relationship with Jenna is her openness. This girl is willing to drop anything to come rescue me, talk with me, or even just run an errand for me, but this isn't what I appreciate most about her friendship. I appreciate that I can be open with her and she is open with me. She shares what is on her heart and she lets me see the REAL Jenna. She asks me to pray for her. She texts me when she needs reminders of truth. She affirms me when I'm doing a good job of caring for her. Man oh man, I am grateful for this friend of mine. The past few weeks before break were kind of a blur. Break came at a needed time, I time when I needed to take a step back from school and the relationships I have there and take inventory of all that I have. The beginning of break, I basically switched off between doing my homework like a maniac and laying around my house, crying out to God asking me why I was in this place. Last night, I told him that I didn't really appreciate how he loved me over break, or how he had me love him. I wanted to be loved by being surrounded by my friends in Pine Ridge; I wanted to love him by serving him in that place and pouring out to the people on the team. Instead, he loved me through my mother, through the Hetricks, through people at both Community church and Alliance, through texts from Jordan, Jenna, and Molly, through a visit to the Gladis family, and through the time I got to spend with Jamie. He loved me through phone calls with Sam, Lexie, and Rachel and through Copper Rock study dates with Anna, Jill, and Ashley. He loved me through a Thai dinner with Matt in Chicago. This isn't how I would have chosen to spend my spring break, doing homework, racing around Appleton meeting with different people, and taking a strange two-day trip to Chicago. But I was able to gain perspective on my relationships, the way I spend my time, and the way I view myself. God taught me a lot this week, things that I wouldn't have learned in Eau Claire, things I wouldn't have learned in Pine Ridge. So I am grateful that despite my own selfish desires, God knows what I need and is faithful to bring that about. Almost every day I think about eating fish tacos in Texas. I cannot even explain how much they mean to me.
One time I tried to see if Torchy's Tacos delivered to Wisconsin,,, I was severely disappointed. Last night, when I probably should have been paying more attention in my night class, I was looking up this one place that I got fish tacos on the river walk in San Antonio... and I found it right away. It's called Barriba Cantina and they make amazing fish tacos with chile-rubbed tilapia and chipotle slaw right on the side. I would literally go there right now and eat some if I could. My dream is to return to San Antonio, to walk along the beautiful river walk filled with cypress trees, alongside a dear friend in the hot weather with the promise of fish tacos for lunch. Today I am grateful for...
...early morning swims when the water's not too cold and a suit that fits. ...sitting in the caf watching the school buses drive on water street and thinking that I could probably see them every Tuesday morning if I ate at the same time. I desire routine. ...the darn public bus system. It is so quick and simple; how did I not know this until now? ...LEXIE - that girl is amazing! She makes really good chicken salads and tries the weird food combinations I suggest and she is real with me and doesn't try to perform and then she sits and listens and puts the pieces together. #itsnotaboutperforming ...the fact that I was excited to see Justin today. #reconciliationinthemaking ...jungle speed. especially the foot version. ...pumpkin chocolate chip muffins from home. ...Tuesday afternoon wit comm: it is one of my favorite hours of the entire week. ...seeing Oliver in Davies because she has big blue eyes and a great laugh. ...Molly freakin' Bray! That girl makes me feel oh-so-loved with mousey and speaking TRUTH that I am not a burden and that our friendship is not based on what I do or do not do. She also reminded me of that Misty Edwards sermon that was so good and told me that I just need to let Jesus into my mess so we can have a meal and then figure it all out together. #notalone ...hashtags. #allthehashtags ...Casie because every time I see her I have to think "KC" to remember how to say her name. And because she is a piece of sunshine on a cloudy day and she reminds me of homegrown tomatoes. ...Jenna Stromberger being real and open and letting me in. But mostly for that time when she yelled at me to stop pulling myself to the bottom of the freaking ocean and asked me why I want to be there so badly. ...bread pudding. Enough said. ...a boyfriend who doesn't eat caf jumbalaya because he doesn't think it could touch my dad's recipe. ...Alexi's affirmation hearts that I still get to come home to every night. LOVE LANGUAGEEEE! ...my first worry time with Jesus tonight, I'm really excited for that. Remember how I said that I haven't been able to dream lately? That my future is a giant, scary, intimidating black hole? Well I got this email from Caribou today that had travel mugs that said "Dream Big" on them. And I thought, if a cliché, commercial mug from a corporation can dream big, why the heck can't I? So for each day in March (and there are 31 of those bad boys!), I will be blogging about a dream that I have. I will not let fear of failure keep me from imagining all that God can do in my lifetime. One dream that I have is to have dirty fingernails.
Dirty fingernails mean hard work. And dirt. I really like working with soil; it's something I've done my whole life. I grew up gardening on Saturdays with my family, regularly watering the plants in my room, and mulching my grandparents' flowerbeds every spring. If I could someday have my own vegetable garden that would be a dream come true. This summer, I am dreaming of spending the month of July as a helping hand on an organic farm or doing a farming internship somewhere in Wisconsin. If you know of any good places, let me know! I dream of having dirty fingernails. |
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December 2022
I'm guessing I'll have it all figured out by the time I turn 30.
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