To you.

To you.

To you. The one who is not merely letters but words, not merely words, but thoughts, not merely thoughts, but a life. A life filled with feelings in the making. To you. The one who holds the power of perception, the power of contemplation, the power of living.

 You are bold. Even if quiet words make you feel like a quiet voice, you are bold. You are precious. When the loud voices scream inside your heart convincing you that today is not your day, tell them you are precious. You are more. Even if you think you were more yesterday, more a couple minutes ago, more a lifetime ago, you are more right now. You are unique. In a sea of normalcy and standards, there is the power of a person in that you are your own self that replicates no one. You may try to copy, you may try to compare, but those tries will never be as beautiful as your original. You are valued. More than the very most feeling of value, more than the very most being of value, your value goes beyond it all. You are incredible. You are doing incredible things, and they don't stop here. Every single moment you write in your life has more impact than I could ever tell you.

Most of all, you are defined. Not by man, not by you, and not by this hurting place that’s called the world. You are defined by a perfect Savior who has named you Beloved.
 

The Traumas of Dance Class

I'm taking this lovely little thing called Jazz I. How hard is it to spin in a circle? Watch any dancer and it looks as easy as breathing. Then watch me. Now you realize that spinning in a circle isn't just hard, it's impossible.

 

First of all, I love to dance. Second of all, the minute I walk into the classroom all sense of right and left, down and up, and any other type of skill that might just be necessary in a dance class LEAVES ME COMPLETELY. Who knew one could struggle so much with, "Start with your right leg and swing the opposite arm and walk across the floor." (In case you didn't know, this is how you naturally walk. A loving friend so kindly pointed that out to me.) I never start walking on time because I'm too busy trying to figure out which leg is my right which leads me to be on the wrong leg anyway because I started a beat late which now means I am in danger of being stepped on by the perfect dancer girl behind me which means I get the disappointed and halfway puzzled dance instructor looking at me with the, "Ah, poor white girl," face. (Too bad she doesn't know I'm related to Thomas Jefferson.). All this from a dumb walk across the floor. And I haven't even gotten to spinning ("pirouetting" if you'd like me to be technical).

 

So, here's the deal. To all you people out there that cannot dance, or would like to think you can until you stick a wall with mirrors plastering it in front of you and fifteen other dancers who were born with their toes pointed and you realize you may not be as good as you are in your Michael Jackson sing-a-longs, it's okay. I have good news.

 

Public humiliation gets easier to take. Ha ha, just kidding. The good news is that I'm comically awful at jazz class, but I still love to dance. So what am I doing? Dancing. So, if you love something, go ahead and do it! Don't look at the person to your right who seems to be doing whatever it is perfectly, don't worry about the person on your heels that's there to let you know you're falling behind. Just give it your best shot :) Mark Twain once said,“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

Losing it...

Losing your I.D. stinks for a number of reasons…let me narrow them down for you.

#1. Who are you? Yeah right, you can’t prove that now.

#2. You automatically realize how terrible you look because there is real threat of having to pose for another awful picture that you get .3 seconds warning that a blinding flash is coming…then that brute of a picture is what you’ve got to work with  for however long you’ve got till you lose your I.D. again. Tragic.

#3. You can’t get into your dorm with those fancy swipers and end up standing around waiting for someone who hasn’t lost their I.D. to open the door, and now you look like a creeper listening to everyone’s conversations waiting for SOMEBODY to wrap it up and walk towards the door. Nobody likes that.

#4. People take pity on you (maybe) and help you search. Then when it ends up being somewhere embarrassing like your purse, your pocket…or hallway (?) you feel really lame. To say the least.

#5. You look ridiculous examining the ground everywhere you go.  And when you run in to the adorable guy because you were scanning the cement for that critical article (because looking for it everywhere within five blocks of where you walked the past two days is always so logical), you just tell him you’re sorry, you were looking for something. See if he believes that. 

#6. The whole picture reason is worth mentioning again.

Basically, I lost my I.D. today. And it was a particularly horrible hair day. Thankfully it was found and I’m no longer in an identity crisis.

Being Rapunzel...

Is there something wrong with a college kid watching Tangled on a Monday night? Probably. But regardless, I am. In fact, I'm sitting here REALLY wishing I could be Rapunzel. I'm pretty sure I was meant to be her. I'm not asking for the crown, or the cute little chameleon, and not even the miles of blond hair, but singing a duet about lanters with Zachary Levi (aka Flynn Rider)? Oh, goodness. Is that really too much to ask???

Thought #2 to ponder. We're kind of all Rapunzel's in our own way. Stuck in our towers imprisoned by the fear of the unknown. So how in the world do we brave the outside of our comfort zones and take the plunge hanging on to literally a strand of faith? Believe it or not, I have the answer to this one (although it's easier said than done). Actually Sarah Young, author of Jesus Calling, (for those who aren't familiar with the book--it's this amazing little devotional told from the perspective of our Savior) portrays it beautifully. Today's entry stated, "Bring me your weakness, and receive my Peace. Accept yourself and your circumstances just as they are, remembering that I am sovereign over everything. Do not wear yourself out with analyzing and planning. Instead, let thankfulness and trust be your guides..." Wow. It might as well say, "Lindsey, time to get over your fears and jump on out that window into my arms because I've got you and we've got work to do!"Not to mention the whole "don't wear yourself out analyzing and planning" thing, something I'm practically famous for...and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one. So, what's your tower? If you still feel stuck with something you're dealing with, I dare you to ask yourself what's holding you back from leaving it behind. I guess it's not quite so simple as literally letting your hair down and sliding--but, I think it can be. Trust. Five letters all tied together to create something so revolutionary, it takes a lifetime to work on it. However, you gotta start somewhere! And here's the great part, we've got this promise that says He's sovereign over it all. Even the scary parts. So go for it! Start with those toes, then maybe sit on the ledge. Don't look down, just up. And when you finally jump, you're gonna see He's got you :)

So please, go and let that hair down!

...and then picture Zachary Levi and I singing this amazing duet with the lanterns making the water look like glitter and all those fancy flowers in my hair. Yeah, I'm seein' the light ;)

Welcome...And Other Facts of Life :)

I don't know how you got here...but I'm glad you came!

Life is complicated and messy and sometimes it rains and pours...and then again, sometimes it shines so bright you've got no choice but to unroll the windows and blast the music in order to properly soak it in. Whatever weather you're in, I hope you can smile at all that is and can be, because I promise miracles are out there. In fact, there's one coming with your name on it. And along your way, I hope to be here to share my miracles, stories, ramblings, thoughts, and embarrassing moments (mostly the latter). But hey, that means you can blush, sweat, laugh your little lungs out, and everything in between right along with me! Welcome :) Where to start? Well, let’s start with yesterday…;) Or not. Let's in fact start with 237 years ago (thank my fellow blogger for help with the math :)) mainly because I think it will explain so much about me...and because the people who created this blog told me I should tell the story pronto....

 

Once upon a time...ha ha, just kidding. This is actually, quite possibly, in fact, true. You are reading (please brace yourself) the blog of...THE 18th-great-granddaughter of Thomas Jefferson. Yes, that's me. Now, before you all run to the books to check his descendants list, please note I used the word "possibly." But, for all accounts and purposes, we're gonna go with it as the hard truth. This also means that I could possibly get my mad pop-and-locking skills from being roughly 1/700th African American due to the alleged affair Mr. Jefferson had with his slave. I'm sure there are many other shaping factors to myself that are vital for you to know...and someday you just might know them. But for now, this should lay a pretty intense foundation for the blogs to come. Prepare yourself.

 

 ...and have a great day :)