Tag Archives: Tennessee

A Cozy, Connected Home

Last you read, I was taking the long way home. No longer was I putting down roots in Tennessee. Instead, I was returning to my Nebraska roots.

Here I sit, in my cozy, connected home in Lincoln, Nebraska. A die-hard Cornhusker fan, I have the pleasure of driving by Memorial Stadium multiple times per week when I drive through the capital city. I love it.

In my last post, I proclaimed my belief that a community of people would be waiting for me in Nebraska. I’m pleased to report I found that community. I have taken up rightful residence in the Lindsay-shaped hole in Lincoln.

God is faithful to deliver on His promises. I am living proof. Since moving back to Nebraska, I’ve paid off my credit card debt, paid off my second-to-last student loan and purchased a house. It’s amazing what a stable income and financial determination can do.

And what pays the bills? Good question. I have returned to one of my life’s greatest passions. I have a full-time career as a writer. As a bonus, I can add photographer to my resume, because I take photographs on the regular, too.

To read samples of some of my work, please visit my Writing Samples page.

Follow me on Twitter: @lindsayletters

Follow me on Instagram: @lindsayletters

Advertisements

Dare You to Move

I accept your dare, Switchfoot. I accept.

I’m moving back to Nebraska. The good life. At least that’s what the slogan promises. It’s not my best life now a-la Joel Osteen. It’s, ‘Welcome to Nebraska — The Good Life,’ as the state sign at the border proclaims.

After six and a half years in Tennessee, I’m returning to my roots. I find this interesting because my name — Lindsay — means talking tree. Trees have roots. I am a person who wants to loyally and lavishly land somewhere for a long time. I want to establish myself and become part of a network.

And, honestly, the entire time I’ve been in Tennessee I’ve sensed a hesitancy to truly root myself here. I was as committed and faithful as I could be, but I did not ever feel completely comfortable with practicing permanence here. However, I didn’t fully identify that feeling until I made the determination to move back. It was then that I realized what it was.

God knew He would move me back to the Cornhusker state. That’s why I felt those fleeting feelings. That’s why I often thought I was on an extended vacation as I traveled these Tennessee roads. That’s why I felt this compulsive urgency to take everything in and remember it…because I wouldn’t be seeing these sights for the rest of my life. It was a season to be remembered fondly. Not a place to take up permanent residence.

I don’t know exactly what Nebraska will hold. But I’m hopeful. I’m encouraged and positive that I’ll meet my elusive husband soon. I’m anticipating that I’ll really enjoy my new career as a corporate journalist.

And I know with everything within me that God is just as much in Nebraska as He is in Tennessee. He’s got a community of people waiting for me. There’s a Lindsay-shaped hole there that this talking tree needs to fill.

There Will Be a New Water Tower Man on the Horizon

Murfreesboro water towerA few weeks ago, I took a walk on the Stones River Greenway during my lunch break. I work in downtown Murfreesboro, so I was actually able to walk from the office down to the Greenway. Walking to the Greenway makes me look a whole lot healthier than merely driving to the Greenway. It gives me at least 15 more exercise bonus points. And in this imaginary land where every exercise is made up and the points don’t matter, I totally won that day.

*pauses*

Wow, this blog is a whole lot sillier than I ever thought it would be! My attempt is to make a serious point about something very sacred and hallowed and revered…

…and often despised and wanted-escaped-from and cursed-at…

Singleness. Seemingly never-ending singleness. No-man, nothin-on-the-horizon singlehood. Reverse widowhood–the losing of a husband before he is ever discovered in the first place. Whoa! Sounds serious!

I’ve got to be honest, it appears that there is no man on my horizon. And what am I to see, anyway? As the one to be pursued. As the lady in waiting. As the outwardly (while inwardly fighting to be) content, confident, rolling-up-on-thirty woman.

I know the godly, correct answers to those nagging questions. I am to see Jesus Christ. I am to see Jesus as my husband. I am to see me as His Bride. I am to remember that people aren’t even married in heaven anyway. I am to see my season as a gift. I am to treasure my time of singleness. I am to know that I am still single for a very important reason. I am to trust that I am most effective in my ministry in this current time as a single woman. I am to be a lot of things. And I am those things. Usually…

This blog isn’t a complaint-riddled rant. No, no. It is an epistle of revelation about one of my favorite things: water towers.

I grew up in a small, small town. For much of my time there, we didn’t even have a water tower! We were the only town in that area that didn’t have a water tower! So, naturally, as a girl deprived of this fantastic marvel of modern humanity, I became fascinated with the city landmark that we didn’t have. Every town I went to, I searched for the water tower. I memorized what each one said. I planned special driving routes just to make sure I’d get the best scope of the water pressure wonder.

At some point in my childhood, my town finally got a water tower. It is situated just behind the hospital where my mom works.  I remember walking or biking up to visit my mom while she was at work. But also to visit the water tower. Just to look at it. To watch how it was made. To continually comment how it looked like a golf ball tee upside down with a golf ball situated on it. My animated mind always imagined that the water tower golf ball would eventually fall off balance and crush the buildings beneath it and flood the surrounding area.

Oh, yes, the Greenway. I was walking on the Greenway. Allow me to return to my story. As I was exercising my left and right foot down the asphalt path, I found myself thinking about water towers again because Murfreesboro just built a new one. We have so many already, but now we have another. I’ve watched the different phases of construction in the last several weeks. I’ve driven down Broad Street for the sole purpose of getting a better look at the water tower.

Greenway water tower

That day, as I was walking and praying along the Greenway, I had a revelation. Crossing over the bridge and turning the corner toward the Manson Pike trailhead, the new water tower came in to full view in front of me.

I realized that the horizon in front of me had changed. Every other time I had walked down that path, all I saw was trees. Now, the water tower is there. And it fits right in, as if it’s been there forever.

Before the bridge, I was praying for one of my friends. After I crossed the bridge and saw the water tower, I began praying for my future husband. Not purposefully. My prayers just flowed into that next subject.

In those moments, God spoke to me. He said, “Your future husband will be like this water tower. You don’t see him right now, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not building him up. He’s not on your horizon, but he could be in a few months. Just like this water tower. He’ll stand tall. He’ll be a carrier of pure, living water. He will bring life and vitality to this city. Don’t get discouraged that you don’t see him yet. Things can happen quickly. Don’t fear that you’ll have to go through a long process to become comfortable with him being in your life. Like the water tower, it will seem natural and familiar.”

God can change landscapes. He can build water towers.

I don’t have to be afraid. I don’t have to feel like I’m behind if I’m not already some guy’s friend. It’s much better for me not to be pining after someone that I interact with on a regular basis. Maybe I am already the friend of my future husband and I just don’t know it yet.

Shortly after this awesome revelation, I had to turn around and head back to the office. I set a timer on my phone so it would alert me halfway through so I could get back just in time. Well, actually, I turned around a few minutes early because I didn’t want to walk through a muddy spot on the path. It had rained the few days prior to this walk.

Almost seconds after I turned around, I heard the train whistle blowing. One can never be sure how long a train will take to go through an intersection. And I had to walk over the train tracks to get over to the other part of the path. But I didn’t mind. Nope. I was actually excited. Because I also like trains. I was enamored as I watched the train pass by so close to me. And I got to see an invigorating site. train on the Murfreesboro Greenway

The train was stacked with two cars on top of each other. I’d seen this a few times before. But never had I seen the two-stacked-train pass under a bridge. It was surprisingly dramatic to watch the cars pass just beneath the bottom of the bridge. They didn’t slow down. They rattled on. This visualization was a continuation of the previous revelation.

Once again, God used what I saw in front of me as a point of encouragement. “You see the cars?” He said.

“Yes, I do. Very interesting! I’m grateful that I got to see this!”

“The train’s locomotive engineer knows that the train will pass under the bridge,” He said. “He knows that there won’t be a collision. He trusts that each town has made sure the bridge is high enough. And he trusts that there is enough room for the train to clear the bridge.”

“Uh huh,” I replied, eager to hear more.

“You’ve got to trust that I’m the locomotive engineer. You have to know that I see the bridges ahead of you. You won’t collide into something and crash. There is clearance to pass through the track you’re on. You don’t have to slow down at each intersection. You don’t have to look at what’s in front of you and worry that you won’t make it through.”

Not only can God change landscapes, He’s also a magnificent locomotive engineer.

*smiles*

I really enjoyed that day. And I’m quite thrilled that I can share this story with whoever it is that reads this.

I am not entirely sure who is in my reading audience. Some of you may be familiar with God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. What happened to me on that day probably won’t seem odd to you.

And there may be others who think that I’m crazy because I said that God spoke to me.

If any one of you has questions, please post a comment. If you want to discuss any of this, I’m up for it.

Breaking All the Blogging Rules

I break the rules of blogging all the time.

I let this one go dormant. I promised to keep it active again after reinstating it. And then…dormancy. And then I pledged to activated it once more. And then I went dark again. I can tell you–as a person who knows how to do blogging the proper way–I do not do this blog the proper way.

I think I use all my creative energies writing for The Bug Man’s blog. No, that’s not a plug for my company’s website, but it is an honest referral to where I am now. All of my SEO thinking and content creating is over there. Congrats, bosses, you have the best of my creative mind. It’s ok, though. They are worthy to receive my creativity.

There are many things that I often want to say on this blog, I just don’t get around to it. Because of the late nights. Because it takes too much energy to spin my own brand. To spin me. To create a buzz about myself. It seems narcissistic. It seems like bad personal business.

Here’s something interesting: I have been writing more letters. I have my own personal embosser with a Letters from Lindsay seal. So, if nothing else, I’m at least writing letters from Lindsay. You just don’t see them. I’m sorry, internet.

Maybe I’ll return to you…some day.

p.s. And I didn’t even post a picture. Cardinal rules: broken! 😉

A Little Sabbatical

Long time no write!

In September, I joined a student internship through my church–New Song Christian Fellowship. Since then, there’s been a whirlwind of classes, meetings, learning, mentoring, working, sleeping, eating…

And during all of that activity, there has not been much time for me to sit at home on the computer on the internet.

But hey, that’s totally a wonderful thing! For awhile, I’ve been longing for an internet sabbatical. Well, I got one!

It’s been wonderful to be immersed in ministry to the point of not having time for the computer.

Here’s what’s happened since my last blog:

I needed a new job. I looked for one. I found one. Now I’m working seasonally at a home decor store. When the Christmas season is over, I think my temporary seasonal job will end too. So now I’m on the lookout for the next job.

I’ve taken and completed one term of Bible classes in my student internship at New Song. I took Pentateuch, Systematic Theology and Spiritual Leadership. I recently turned in my finals (Dec. 1) and now I’m waiting on my grades for those classes. I think I did well on the finals and I really enjoyed those classes. In January, I start my second term of classes.

Well, that’s pretty much it. I’m too busy for the internet and that’s a wonderful thing.

I’ll post again when I’ve got some free time. Have a Merry Christmas! Remember that Jesus is the important One here, not materialism.

Captive Audience

Tonight I went to my second Murfreesboro Writers’ Group meeting. The first time I went, I read a song I recently wrote while on a plane ride. It was called “Fragmented Patches.” Maybe I’ll post it later. I don’t know. Do you want to read it?

I joined the writers’ group for a few reasons. I want to meet new people. I work at home so I have a limited workplace sphere of influence. Through this group, I can influence people. I haven’t been writing very much and I wanted motivation to start again. I have nothing else to do on the second and fourth Wednesday of every month. I used to have Life Group that night, but ours now meets on the second and fourth Sundays of the month.

This writers’ group is a HUGE witnessing opportunity. Huge. Huge. As you’re surely aware, writing is a deeply personal activity. Writers write what they feel. And, if they claim to have no feelings, they make up characters who have the feelings the writer is denying.

What you may or may not know about writers is that they generally value each other’s work highly. For example, this particular writers’ group is for constructive criticism only. There is no tearing down of work, thought or concepts. There are many compliments. Several people are impressed by other people. A lot of the attendees in this group are writing novels and short stories. I am mostly focusing on poetry. When I read a poem, some of the writers have no concept of how to construct a poem. They are in awe of the entire poetry genre. To them, it’s a terribly interesting thing that they like but don’t know how to do.

As I was casually seated in my oversized Barnes and Noble chair, I quickly realized how crucial this opportunity is for me. I can write about whatever I want and they have to sit there and listen to me. The same goes for them. I have to sit there and listen to whatever they say too.

I am a Christian. My life is Christ. Naturally, I write about Jesus/God/the Holy Spirit/worship. Some of these folks “aren’t religious.” Those are their words, not mine. But they are intrigued by the things I’ve written and shared. They find what I say interesting and eloquent.

That’s good, because I prayed they would. I asked God to soften their hearts and make them receptive to the Truth that I’ll deliver. I also asked Him to protect me from any harmful subject matter that the other writers detail.

My first week, I read the part of a flirty, vampire girl. That’s so not my life. But this lady was writing a play and she needed people to read the lines. That was the part I was given.

I’ve heard stories of other-worldly mutant dogs; vampires; back-from-the-dead brothers; a pre-meditated, adultery-headed man; sword-chasing, sci-fi fantasy characters and a seriously demented mortician. Oh the imagination writers have!

And to that spattering of ideas and fantasies, it’s my task to bring Jesus.

I must be intentional with the stuff I present. I have a captive audience. Literally. In two ways. One, they are captive and must pay attention to what I say. Two, they are captives, bound in the lies of the enemy. With the truth that I share through my poems/songs/potential novels, I will hope they see freedom. And, in turn, desire to grasp that freedom.

So, if you’re reading this and you believe in Jesus, please pray for me. I have a unique and powerful opportunity. I’m very excited. I like being spurred to write again, too. It’s such a catharsis for me. I get a little giddy thinking about the possibilities of the words that will come out.