Yet I will rejoice in the Lord

It wasn't easy to choose to stay at home and take on a full-time job when it seemed like just about everyone else was moving away and starting their freshman year of college.

 Honestly, every morning is a struggle. But the struggle is sweet when it is from, with, and for Jesus.

I have learned so very much about things I never thought I didn't know. Funny how we don't know so much that we don't even know we don't know. If that makes any sense at all.

Anyway, I've learned everything from how to [magically] fold cardboard into a perfectly-shaped shipping box, how to balance finances, how to convince telemarketers that we're not interested, and even just how to use the drive-thru at the bank. I'm experiencing things I've never done before. And I'm thankful for that. But more than anything else, I'm thankful for the precious lives I am able to come across, speak to, and encourage. I'm thankful for the stories and laughs, the wisdom and the advice they have given me.

I'll share one story a sweet lady told of her great-grandson.

~

When she was taking him to his Kindergarten class one day, he spoke up, pleading, 

"Mamy, would you pwease tell Ms. Julie (his teacher) that I'm sick and can't come today?" 

"But, dahlin' (it didn't matter who she was addressing, to Mamy, everyone is dahlin'), you're not sick."

"Yes, I am. I, I... I had a heart attack!"

Mamy stifled a laugh and decided to play along with him. She called Ms. Julie and told her what he had said. His teacher then said, 

"Well, in that case, we'll have to send for an ambulance right away."

When Mamy relayed the message to the backseat, he said, "Tell her it's too late! You and Mamma done buried me already."

~

Throughout this year, Habakkuk 3:17-18 has been such a comfort:

Though the fig tree may not blossom,

Nor fruit be on the vines;

Though the labor of the olive may fail,

And the fields yield no food;

Though the flock may be cut off from the fold,

And there be no herd in the stalls - 

Yet I will rejoice in the Lord,

I will joy in the God of my salvation.

on life in Grown-up Land

If I said that I've been meaning to post, would that make up for my silence? No?
What if I said that I've been really busy, graduated high school, and started a full time job?
Fine, then. Moving on.

Well, I looked through some "old" pictures the other day. Most of these pictures were taken earlier this year, some late last year. No, they're not old pictures.  I think I'm the one that's old. I feel it. I feel like that was years ago and I've already grown up so much since then (which is probably the biggest indication that I really have not grown up in the least).
But really, I do feel as if I've been ruthlessly shoved into entered the Big-Scary-Realm-of-Grownups, also known as the "Real World," while I would much rather live happily in Neverland where there is no such thing as responsibility, business, bills, clocking in or out, short lunch breaks, morning commutes, bookkeeping, or taxes. There's also a whole lot more fun, family time, food, and sleep (although, I admit, I would miss the paychecks of Grown-up Land). Ah, well. We can't have everything we want. (Unless we were in Neverland.)

On another note, I have so many secretarial tales that I can't wait to share with you. I get to visit with some of the most interesting (old) people. My job certainly has its perks.

For now, here are some instagrams from life leading up to today:

last days of school

graduation weekend

everything since

Memorial Day: hike in Tishomingo and an outdoor movie

my Daddy-O doing a couple of his favorite things. At the same time.

the sun rises early. in case you didn't hear.

Chelsea's shower

Camp Moriah 2012

good times with these kiddos and Rach

4th of July

post Friday night Frisbee!

Sunday afternoon musings

One of the most steadfast Crampton traditions is the Sunday afternoon nap. Almost every Sunday without fail, if you're a Crampton, you're either asleep or bound to be as quiet as a mouse by 3 PM.
Today happens to be one of those rare Sunday afternoons when I can't actually fall asleep. So I decided to be productive and pick up my room, listen to a sermon Conrad Mbewe preached a couple of weeks ago at Christ Church, and write on this sadly neglected blog of mine. (I'd give you the link to his sermon, but sadly, our website is being renovated at the moment.)
Lately, life has been consumed by thesis research and writing, moot court prep (the court was a whole lot of fun to this lawyerly-inclined girl, by the way), reading the Aeneid, preparation for graduation, etc. Graduating actually involves more than I thought - pictures for yearbook, pictures for the slideshow, general information for yearbook, making/sending invitations, and more. And all of this requires a bit more time and effort than I had imagined.
But I don't care as long as I graduate. And I plan to.

I know the general senior mindset is: I'm a senior. I'm so cool. Look at those freshmen. Ha, ha. They're freshmen. I can't wait to graduate and get out of this town. I'm so cool.
Yes, I'll admit that I've experienced some of those feelings. Yes, I'm excited about graduating.
As happy as I am to finally finish not only these four years of high school, but twelve years of education. Twelve years. When I actually write it out, it's mind boggling.
We seniors want to get out of here and move on with our lives. It's in the script.

But honestly, I'm gonna miss this.

I'm so thankful for my education. Yes, I've been homsechooled all my life. No, I haven't just sat in my pj's, watched TV, and gotten all A's from my mom. Granted, there have been many pj days. And I loved every one of them. But my education has not been a walk in the park, by any means. And I'm thankful for that. I'm thankful for the challenges, the struggles, and the learning experiences. I'm thankful for Dr. Grant, for Gileskirk, for Aristotle's rhetoric, for Dr. Hill's logic, for Doc Mo's biology, for Mrs. Tate's lit, for Mrs. Rachel's art/music, for Mrs. Culp's speech, and so, so much more!
Dr. Grant has reminded us many times - and rightly so - that education does not end when we graduate high school or college. If we ever think we're truly educated, it's a good indication that our education has never begun.

I plan on taking the next year off; a "gap year," of sorts. Although, this "off" year will not be "off." I don't plan on this being a lazy year while I sit at home on the couch and watch my friends move out and attend various colleges across the country. I plan on working and saving money for next year (of course, finding a job comes first), making a dent in and perhaps completing my fast growing reading list, painting, crafting so many things I've pinned on Pinterest, practicing piano and learning daunting pieces I never would have even glanced at two years ago, soaking in the Word at Christ Church, and doing so many other things I probably won't have the chance to do at any other point in my life.
This hasn't been an easy decision and it certainly was not my first choice. However, I believe this is where God would have me for now and I have no idea what doors may be opened this coming year.

Thy will, not mine, be done.

A Bend in the Road

A blank page. I don't know where to begin. It's been so long since I've written - I mean, really written. I'm almost scared.

There are so many things I want to write. But I don't even know how to start.

These past few months have been filled with so much uncertainty. If I had a dime for every time I've been asked what I want to do with my life, I'd be rich. . .in dimes. But rich, nonetheless. The answer is: I don't know. Honestly, I have no idea.  Some people figure this out in their freshman year, some in their sophomore year, some practically since birth. Well, not this girl.

In Matthew 6:27, Christ asks us, "Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?" Worrying about tomorrow will not make tomorrow any better.

For me, I like to figure out what I'm doing and have a plan - in the little things, in the big things. Katie and I joke that she's the spontaneous one who lives by the seat of her pants and I'm the one who with an agenda and a plan. (AKA, the boring one.) My life does not go perfectly according to plan. Trust me. I'm learning to surrender my life, my plan, wholly to the Lord, who has a far better plan, though I may not always understand it.

I do not know what lies around the next Bend in the Road.
I do know that I would like to go to college, to further my learning, and to learn to be (relatively) on my own. Although, I'm not the kind of person who jumps at the chance to leave home. This home and family and all that goes with it are so dear to me. I can't leave them without decided hesitation.
I do not want to have anything to do with silly sorority fickleness, frat fiats, cold cinder block dorm-life, college parties, or God-less teaching.
That's exactly what has led me to New College Franklin, a tiny, brand new, classical Christian college in beautiful downtown Franklin, Tennessee. (That, and the fact that my brother goes to school there.) There I would read and discuss the classics, learn music theory, study Greek and Hebrew (something I never thought I would want to do), think through moral philosophy, and delve into the Scriptures. There are no dorms, but students live with church families who rent out spare bedrooms. This is not only a college begun solely for the glory of God (in deed, not in word only), but it's a community. I guarantee you it's unique to just about every college or university out there; hardly anyone has heard of it and there are about 20 students in the whole school right now. Total. You might be wrinkling your nose at the number of people and wondering why on earth I would want to go to such a place for college.

But this is something I've had to think and pray about. Going to New College is not something people will understand and they probably won't ever have heard of it. My friends won't "get it." I've had to ask myself, why are you going to college? Am I going so people will "get" me? Am I going so that others will approve of me? Am I going so I can make lots of new friends? If this is why I want to college, I might as well stay at home.
If I'm going to college for the right reason, I go for the glory of God, to grow in Him, to love Him more, and to grow in my understanding of His Word (and what better way to do that than read the Bible in its original languages?) Don't get me wrong, one can still learn to love God more at a non-Christian college. God is present with those who love Him everywhere, at Christian colleges and state universities alike. But I think I can best accomplish these things at a place like New College, without so many hindrances, where the glory of God is all-important.

If all my New College plans never come to fruition or they just don't work out, it doesn't matter. God is still God. He reigns whether I know what I'm doing with my life or not. God has been teaching me to surrender, to make His will mine, to leave my life utterly in His hands. Who better to hold it than the God of all the world?

Mrs. Allan once told Anne in Anne of Avonlea, "Well, I should like to see you go to college, Anne; but if you never do, don't be discontented about it. We make our own lives wherever we are, after all. . . college can only help us do it more easily. They [the bends in the road] are broad and narrow according to what we put into them, not what we get out. Life is rich and full. . .here. . .everywhere. . .if only we can learn to open our whole hearts to its richness and fullness."

I almost want to include the whole first chapter of Frances Ridley Havergal's book Kept for Jesus, but I'll just quote this part:

"For we both may and must
Commit our very faith to Him,
Entrust to Him our trust.

What a long time it takes us to come down to the conviction, and still more to the realization, of
the fact that without Him we can do nothing, but that He must work all our works in us! This is
the work of God that ye believe in Him whom He has sent. And no less must it be the work of
God that we go on believing, and that we go on trusting. Then, dear friends, who are longing to
trust Him with unbroken and unwavering trust, cease the effort and drop the burden, and now
entrust your trust to Him! He is just as well able to keep that as any other part of the complex
lives which we want Him to take and keep for Himself. And oh, do not pass on content with the
thought, “Yes, that is a good idea; perhaps I should find that a great help!” But, now, then, do it.
It is no help to the sailor to see a flash of light across a dark sea, if he does not instantly steer
accordingly."

I do not know what the next year holds, I can't see around the next Bend in the Road, but I'm trusting He who does and who will reveal it in His good and perfect time.

A land called Honah Lee

Her girlish eyes were completely and entirely enraptured with the world he painted through his calm, deep voice. She knew the tale almost as well as the voice which told it. This time every night was sacred to her little heart. Hanging on his every word, she once again entered the land far away and full of enchanting fairies and delightful creatures - a world as real and familiar to her as our own is to us. He sang the words, while she lived them. Her ears tingled with glee at his tale, though she did like to imagine herself as a female Jackie Paper. Or just that she was a boy. (Because, truth be told, this girl truly believed - or wished so earnestly that she thought she did believe - she would one day grow up to be a boy, though evidence and everyone around her protested.) A soft, clear voice rang out these words and filled the little white room with melody, much as the sun fills the earth with light:

Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff,
And brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff. Oh

Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee.

Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail
Jackie kept a lookout perched on Puff's gigantic tail,
Noble kings and princes would bow whene'er they came,
Pirate ships would lower their flags when Puff roared out his name. Oh!

Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee.

A dragon lives forever but not so little boys
Painted wings and giants' rings make way for other toys.
One grey night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more
And Puff that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar.

His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain,
Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane.
Without his lifelong friend, Puff could not be brave,
So Puff that mighty dragon sadly slipped into his cave. Oh!

Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee,
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee. 

The Little Girl is not so little now, and her Daddy doesn't sing to her every night before bed anymore. But occasionally, she'll slip away to Honah Lee, rekindle old friendships and frolic with her dear magic dragon.

 {listen here}

Laugh all you want, but seventeen sounds dreadfully old to me.

On growing up

I'm a senior.

I'll be 17 before I know it.

I'm looking at colleges.

When did this happen?! Last time I checked I was 9 and thinking of my college days and imagining that Future Courtney, who would know what to do, where to go, and when to do it, would come and save the day.

 Isn't it funny how, as a child, you always imagine your future self to be -- someone else? As in, not you. But now I wake up to find, I'm still me. (deep, right?) I didn't magically morph into Future Courtney. Although I have been changed since 9 (only by the grace of God), I'm still the same 9-year-old girl (plus a few years) dreaming of those seemingly far-off days when I would grow up, become a woman, and move away from home.

But now that it comes down to it, I don't want to move away from this dear old home-of-mine. Truth be told, I don't want to grow up. Truth be told, I'm scared. Truth be told...I just want to find Peter Pan and Neverland.

Sometimes I forget. I forget that I have no strength in myself. I forget that if left to myself I would never want to grow up and wouldn't be able to bear the responsibilities if I did. Praise be to God I haven't been left to myself. My strength is in Christ and Christ alone. He alone can help me to bear things I don't neccesarily want to bear and the things that I can't. He alone can guide me in the way I should go. I want to be ready to receive HIS will - whatever that may be.

"I am trusting Thee to guide me:

Thou alone shalt lead,

Every day and hour supplying

All my need." 

Frances Ridley Havergal, (Hymn 541).

Dear Best Friend,

18!
When did this happen? I guess it's strange to think of you as an "adult." Not really because you don't act like one, but because you've always been so mature. Mature, but not incapable of being silly and fun. (See picture.) :) Basically, you're just perfect the way you are. But now it's official. Eighteen years old.

Dear Katie, I wish you the happiest of birthdays and the wonderful, comforting sweetness of God's Presence throughout your eighteenth year. May you draw ever nearer to our sweet Savior, Jesus Christ!

Happy birthday, Katie Larissa! 

Needless to say, but still I must say it, for it cannot be said too often: I love you, sweet friend. So very much.

Second star to the right, and then straight on till morning.

Why must things change? Why must we grow up? I refuse to. I shall go find Peter Pan and happy Neverland.