To live.

“To live would be an awfully big adventure”. -Peter, from J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan

There are some days I walk through my front door, sit down on my floral couch and stare at my old coffee table... wishing I could be at any other place in life than the place I'm in. Deep down I either long for what was or what could be... while trying to cope with what is. Some days I wish I could have my child-like innocence bestowed upon me again... to live in a care-free world, with dreams as big as the church pews on Sunday and as attainable as a piece of grass in a giant meadow.

There are days when all I want is to have years of experience on my sleeve, instead of an uncertain and somewhat daunting future staring me in the face, refusing to let me see what is beyond. It is an odd thought to know that my formal education is ending and real life is waiting around the corner... am I the only one who thought Jesus was going to come back before I had to face such a drastic uncertain part of life?

This summer I read Luci Swindoll's I Married Adventure. She's seventy something and has seen the back of her hand so often she not only remembers what it looks like, but knows when each wrinkle and crevis arrived. She said that when we are young we want nothing but to be older. And when we are older we desire nothing but to be younger. And in my early twenties, I want so much... I want my dream job, I want a non-profit that sells re-stitched vintage clothes. I want to be a successful writer. I want to roadtrip the entire West Coast. I want to read books for a whole week straight. I want to be married. I want to be laughing around a dining room table with too many friends squeezed around it, dreaming up creative ideas and new ways to take community out of the cliche box it has been put into... and on days when life is tiring and seemingly overwhelming, I'm tempted to think I want nothing but retirement.

But those "sit and stare" thoughts linger for a time and then, with an understanding wink and a kind wave, they leave. I am here. In the present. I cannot go back. And I cannot move forward as nimbly as I think I can. I cannot skip over living life. What's the fun in living out dreams if I haven't reached for them? And when I look back on the small part of life I have lived, I ask why I would ever want to fast forward or rewind... even through the difficult chapters.

I used to read the last few pages of every book before starting it.... but, after awhile, I decided knowing the end never made the book any better. I never really understood the weight of that last page anyway...at least until I had the feeling and momentum of the entire book to back it up. I think life is a lot like that. Skipping ahead isn't realistic and, even if it was, it wouldn't be grand or appreciated. To appreciate the here and now, means living fully in the moments it took to get here.

Living in the present isn't so hard when I see life as an adventure worth living. By the grace of God it is an adventure... an everlasting one. And apparently this “blink of an eye” life I'm living is only the beginning. That's what I've come to believe and stake my life on. Here's to living a great adventure.

The Haven.

One of my favorite words in the Bible is the word "Abide". I love that we are called to make our home and resting place in God alone. To take life in, by Abiding in God. We all need life and sustenance. Tonight I went to a place that would be one small piece to "abide" if it were a word that was crafted into a beautiful mosaic.

I've never been to a housewarming party, but it seems like something right up my avenue. I enjoyed going to my first this evening and hope to host one soon... maybe (because my "home" realistically is a dorm) I could call it a "Dwarming Party". ---I've had a ridiculous obsession with combining words lately... I think two words combined has a stronger meaning---- My hosts went above and beyond warming and really made us, their guests, feel as if we were at home. And if there is anything I love, "feeling at home" is one that warms my heart... it's is right up there with chocolate, cheese, crafting, writing, and people watching.

These ladies call their house The Haven, and I love that word almost as much as I love the word "Abide". A safe place. A place without tension. A place without baggage. Or, grace to meet baggage if it is there. A place of service and love. A place to be creative. A place to be free. A place to know one's self and think. A place for honesty.

It's deeply breath-taking that our God, the dearest Friend we could ever encounter, offers such a place to us every day. He is safe. He brings loving discipline. He takes away the suitcases of baggage we tend to carry around with us when we set them down at His feet...or He kindly lets us know that the suitcases of baggage we carry are someone elses. He offers grace from the second we think our first thought to when we are in bed acknowledging that our day was what it was because of His grace. He served us with death for life. his death, for our life. He loved us fiercely and still does every second of every day. He is the author of creativity. He is freedom and offers it to us. He wants us to become more of who He created us to be. He wants to know what we think. He desires for us to sit, be still, and listen. He is honest with us. And we can be honest with Him.

He is my Haven. And how I desire to abide in Him Alone.

I need to read books.....

...because they make me think. Sometimes I surprise myself when I realize I've been living each day in an absent minded fog. I notice my unfortunate ability to turn on some sort of "Stacie Default" that gets me by, but doesn't really make me think or live well. Reading usually takes me out of that funk. It offers newness, and sometimes thats exactly what we need in order to think.. a few pages of newness.

....because I must keep learning. Today someone told me that if we didn't read classic literature we would be reduced to something like mush and mayhem. Some businessman with the last name of Freeman said, we should "live forward, and think backward". Thinking backward, of course, involves gleaning from classics like Crime and Punishment, Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, and War and Peace.... those are some of my favorites. I thought to myself... have I really taken time lately to look back to make sure I'm living my full potential forward?

...because it is important to know what my mentor's mentors believed. Most of the people I look up to in this world were and are avid readers... am I looking to the sources they are influenced by? I probablys should be.

...because any perspective is a good one to attemp to understand. Some people refer to a person who reads a wide capacity of books and genres as "well rounded". Don't we all wish we read more.... and probably more or less for that reason, to become all the more well-rounded?

....because to read is to persevere. Something I learned about reading a long time ago is that I must persevere through certain books, poems, or articles. If I have to read slower than I'd like to understand a text or if the beginning of a book seems stale at first, I must persevere.

Read to enjoy.

Read to dream. Or learn how to dream.

Read to esscape, so when you enter back into reality you might be challenged to live more fully.

Read that your conversations may be full and driven.

Read so you may lead well.

Read so you may follow well.

Read to be challeneged.

Read because you are able.

Read, and see the wonder in every page.

A Place to Be.

The past few years of typical busy college-ness (academic work, a social schedule, event nights and weekends, group this's, and group that's) have taught me about the importance of finding places of freedom... places where I can simply be. Places where over-crowded schedules are restricted and busy personalities aren't allowed. Places I find rest. Places that allow me to reflect, think, be still, sit, walk around, watch people, smile, cry, stare....

I love to give you a peak of some of my favorite places to be.....

1. On or near a lake, ocean, or river.  Growing up I lived next to a lake and often walked down to our neighborhood beach to sit on the dock and think. I've watched a million sunsets on that dock and even woken up for a few sunrises. I've gone there to cry throughout the years... because I was adolescent... because I was alone... because I felt misunderstood... because I didn't want to grow up... because I wasn't sure where God fit into my life... because I was frustrated with God... because I was selfishly not getting my way....and because I was so grateful and overwhelmed with peace at how immensely beautiful and full life is. There's something mezmorizing about watching the water roll by as the sun shines across each tide. Today I went kayaking on the Pacific Ocean, so far from my familiar dock... but I loved every second of it, especially the times I just sat back, closed my eyes, and listened to my kayak move through the water. Here's to the water... a place I can be.

2. My new couch. I'm pretty sure my parents could have owned this couch their first year of marriage (that's quite a few decades ago). It has a very Stacie-esc '70's print. I love it. My friend Matt was at the thrift store as I was buying it and he (in all seriousness) assured me that I could put a slip cover over it... I then smarted off to him, wondering how I could ever possibly cover up such a rich vintage pattern? I placed my couch by my window and made sure my parents' old '70's lamp could sit right next to it. Couch and lamp perfectly matched to turn a dorm room into a family room, a life giving space. Perfect for a homebody like me. And here I sit, on my couch, with the window open and a quiet sunset peaking through the giant tree outside my window. And a mug of milk (one of my favorite resting drinks) sitting on the coffee table next to me. My '70's lamp would be on but the bulb blinked out today. It's getting old. No matter... this is a place I can be. And I love it.

3. The Huntington Library, Pasadena, California. This is one of those places you see in movies a lot but you might not know it unless you've been there. The first time I visited I went home immediately and looked up what movies had been filmed there because it's too beautiful of a place to not put in a movie (for those wondering, some movies it has appeared in: The Wedding Planner, Charlies Angles, Memoirs of a Geisha, etc.) With gardens, an old manor, a library, museums, art, and tea rooms galore, this place is a dream come true. Freshmen year I got the Palm Tree Blues and found myself missing real trees that didn't look like giant pipe or tiolet cleaners. The Huntington Library cured me of my chemical imbalance and had me believing I'd stepped into a Jane Austen novel or some foreign country with beautiful trees and gardens everywhere. It's a place to admire in one day's time... a place to bring a good book to... a place to bring a friend to moreso for looking than talking.... and maybe even a place to fall in love. It's a place I love and a place I can be.

Crafternooning with Stacie Lynne

Today has been a crafternoon in and of itself. I've loved every second of it. I'm one of those people who could be alone the entire day working on creative projects and ideas without realizing I haven't talked with anyone since yesterday. Tomorrow, I'll be ready for conversations up and down the social board, but today, I feel as if I'm hybernating as I squeeze the creative juices out of every nook and cranny of my brain. A human being even stopped by to say hi earlier and some sort of awkward personality of mine answered them. I had forgotten how to be pleasant and friendly.... which is why I grin and embrace Stacie Crafternoons... and limit them to once a week.. for the sake of myself and everyone else.

Today's project? "Hipster-ifying", "Vintage-ifying",  and "Unique-ifying" every picture frame, pillow, and canvas in my room. Lately I've been enthralled with material, patterns, and color schemes. It's the beginning of a beautiful obsession I believe. So here's to the material I found life-giving and even some of the words I scattered throughout my room in hopes of bringing hope to others when they take a peak in my room.

Stacie Decorating Tip #1: Decorate to give life to others. Or to yourself. And... have fun.



She put the best in friend.

I love having best friends in different places. I love that this life permits me to have more than one best friend, and, even if it didn't, I'd probably try to break the rules with at least 3 or 4. From first grade to highschool to summer jobs to college, I've found some faithful, kind, and loving best and dear friends. They rejoice with me. Cry with me. Laugh with me. Challenge me. Pray for me...I love them because they give and love even when I can't.

Meet Amber. She's been my long-time best friend. She really is the best. Getting together with her always reminds me of how far we have come. We've known each other since first grade, which means our friendship has survived some very precious and terrifying years. We experienced extreme feelings of ecstasy, jealousy, nuttiness, happiness, and hurt in junior high. AND braces and vicious acne. We went through those exact same things in high school, but found that each feeling came quite a bit deeper the older we became. Together we came to terms with who we were. We've watched each other discover God, individual passions, and the beauty of life itself. And today, we have survived almost four years of being best friends half way across the country.Though we don't see each other much, each time we get together I am reminded of how precious and sacred our long-lasting friendship is.

But a friendship is always growing isn't it? That might be one of the most frustrating and beautiful aspects of friendship. Amber and I are still learning how to be honest and vulnerable with each other. When we were little, I was jealous of the big bows her mom decorated her hair with and I thought she was one of the prettiest little girls I had ever seen. I was jealous of her when the guy I liked in middle school had feelings for her. And now I'm jealous of anyone who gets to spend time with her on a daily basis, because she's wonderful to spend time with.

Like a lot of girls our age, we get together to talk about what's important. And then we get down to what's really important... men. We rant, we confess, we scowl, we laugh, we obsess, we question, and we pray about the males who have made their way into our lives. We've gone from being obsessively giddy and overly romantic, to liking the same guy and hating each other, to seeking pure and Godly relationships, to talking about the ins-and-outs of relationships and how incredibly more complicated they are than we ever anticipated, to wondering whether or not testosterone fits into our future at all. I hope your thoughts on relationships have progressed as ours have, one way or another.

As I've been writing I've been thinking that this particular best friend really doesn't get as much thanks as she deserves. For putting up with a lot through the years. For always being willing to go on an adventure with me. Or be hurt by me. She's meeting me at Starbucks in a few minutes to waterpaint and drink tea. I think I'll thank her. Have you thanked someone who's a "best" in your life? Maybe you should thank them too. And then waterpaint and drink tea with them.

Never Fully Dressed.

Playing on iTunes: "I'm writing to bare my soul to the world, that the world might be able to relate to my issues" music. Because I have a confession:

I have a downfall. A worldly nemesis who occasionally makes a visit every few times a year... mainly when the seasons change or when I take a trip to the mall. His name is Fashion. He lurks in my closet, watches me put on my outfit for the day, and then, just as I ready myself to step out of the closet and tackle my daily To-Do list, He tells me to glance in the mirrror once more before I leave my closet, and, as I do, he whispers in my ear "That style won't do. The vibe you're giving off screams 'yesterday' when it should scream 'tomorrow'." I hear that and after a long linger in the mirror, I think to myself... He's right. So I change... over and over again, caught in a cycle of deception and vanity and before I know it, I'm staring at a monster-made-messy closet with "clean my closet" added to my already lingering To-Do list. And one defeated thought flashes through my mind like a billboard in Time Square: Fashion's right, nothing will do.

In my frustration with my "I-must-show-all-the-other-fashion-gurus-in-my-city-I-can-rock-the fashion-vibe-of-a-lifetime" addiction, I can't help but wonder if there is a remedy for me and those like me who sit on the floor of our closets, surrounded by piles of too many clothes. Clothes we are addicted to. And yet we are sick of vanity. Sick of "caring too much". Sick of not being able to find the "classy, but moreso indie, not too dressed up or down, no one else has thought of this" look. We sit there, sometimes in tears, other times with an empty blank stare on our faces, in awe that we just spent so long in our closet we missed the church service we were getting ready for. We even sing a Fashion-revised version of Christina Perri's "Jar of Hearts", belting her mournful lyrics, applying them, of course, to our relationship with Fashion: "I know I can't take one more step towards you, cause all thats waiting is regret...Fashion, who do you think you are, running round leaving scars? And now your back for me" I think its beyond okay to remind myself that Jesus once compared those clothing mounds with "moths and rust" ie. death and destruction.

In a year or two you might hear of a girl who suffocated in her closet, smothered by her own piles of clothes, wearing a blouse and scarf that didn't even match her shoes and pants. But that girl won't be me. I have decided it is time to start putting in ear plugs when Fashion bugs me about what I'm wearing. And when he wants me to take that final critical glance in the mirror, I'll tell him what Christina Perri told her deceitful and lousy beau, "Don't come back for me, don't come back at all".

For lent this year, clothes were my focus. I didn't subtract from life. I added to it. I added a small but but critical rule. I'll admit I've been defeated more than a few times this lent season, it has never been so difficult for me... but I am determined to not let Fashion control me. I'm determined to have my inwardness outshine my outwardness. To care about what I wear, but to care more about the inner workings of me, which, in all honesty, need much more time spent on them than my outward appearance.

 So what's my rule? Start from the left to the right and each day wear the blouse that comes next. No skipping around. No changing or trying on something different cause I'm not "feeling" a certain top. I can still keep creativity by pairing whatever bottom I want with whatever top I choose, but the top must stay the same. Time saver? Yes. Room for creativity? Yes. Time to inwardly delve into how I can clothe myself with patience, kindness, compassion, and forgiveness? Yes. Freedom? Yes.

Here's to freedom. If this is something you struggle with, let me be the first to offer to buy you some ear plugs or help you chunk your full-length mirror in the nearest dumpster.