about hugging anxiety

Because we already live in a world where we have to be afraid of zombie apocalypses and robots taking over our brains I thought - why not add hugging to the list?

Maybe I am the only one on earth who feels this way (am I? Now I'm self-conscious about this), but sometimes I get anxiety about hugging people.

Physical touch is definitely one of my love languages and I adore a good hug just as much as the next person - but there are just so many things that can go wrong with a hug, you know? And if you didn't know, let me just stoke your fear with my handy phobia-o-matic list below:

1) The Hug-or-Shake Situation: 
I can't take credit for the phrasing - my roommate came up with it.  But this is a constant concern before I go in for a hug with someone who is in Questionable Hug Territory.  Should I go in with my arms outstretched?  Should I stand back a bit and extend my hand?  What if I hug them and they think I'm being too forward?  What if I don't hug them and they think I'm being too cold? Am I over thinking this situation? Impossible.

2) The I-Chose-Hug-You-Chose-Handshake Situation: 
There is this one guy who I only see like twice a year but I find myself in this unfortunate situation with him EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.  I see him and I think "ok, great! We're TOTALLY good friends.  We've definitely got Hug Zone going on for us here."  And in I go for the embrace and without fail out goes his hand for the handshake.  I end up awkwardly leaning against his body trying to T-Rex as much of my hand out as I can so it looks like I picked handshake too but just happened to move myself a little close to him totally on accident and not on purpose.

3) The I-Wish-This-Hug-Was-Happening-After-My-Shower Situation: 
You know those days when you go on a run or to the gym and you're like "I'll just shower in a little bit"? And then you decide to take your unshowered self to the bank or grocery store, certain that out of all the people living in your city certainly you will not run into anyone you know, or at least anyone in Hug Territory.  And then the stars align and right in the dairy section is the head cheerleader from your high school who acted nice to you in school but never invited you to any of her house parties and she's squealing as she recognizes you and in horror you realize The Hug is coming - in slow motion her arms are extending toward you and you say "no, no actually I'm a little sweaty ha ha" and she just smiles and says "oh no, it's fine" and embraces your disgusting smelly unclean self.
Welcome, my body is a Sweatland.

4) The Up-or-Down Situation: 
I like to call my hugging method The Shovel.  I always put my hands out first so I will be the underneath hugger and the other person has to put their arms on top.  I think it makes me feel less vulnerable to attack.
But when I'm not on my A-game sometimes the other person shoots their arms out like torpedoes and THEY choose underneath and flashing red lights go off in my head and it sounds like ERRRR ERRRR ERRRR in there.  I never recover in time.  One arm goes up, the other goes down, our hands collide in mid-air, I'm apologizing all over the place - it's a hot mess.

5) The I'm-Sitting-You're-Standing-Or-Vice-Versa-Situation: 
Sometimes a friend catches you at dinner or sitting down at a desk or couch of some sort and you both think it's a great idea to hug without one of you getting up or the other one sitting down.  Beware, readers - this is NOT a great idea.  Somehow your head or the other person's head will end up in a stomach or some other unwelcome area.  Always even your playing field - always.

6) The-"I'll Never Let Go Jack" Situation: 
Sometimes you hug and hold on a bit too long.  Awkwardness ensues.

7) The Accidental-Smooch Situation: 
If you happen to be hugging Leonardo Dicaprio on the reg, this really isn't an issue.  If you aren't, things can get bad real quick.  All the advice I can offer is commit to a side and pray.

about cynicism and hope

Soon after I got to Nicaragua last week a thought came into my head that surprised me.  The thought was: "this is too big."

There is too much poverty, there have been too many failed attempts to fix it, there are too many imperfect systems, people are too selfish....it's all just too big.  The thought came in a voice that alarmed me, that shook my shoulders and rattled me up.  It was the voice of cynicism, and came from within me and it made me afraid. 

In the instant that this little sentence echoed inside of me I realized how fragile hope is.  I realized how poor a job I have done of fighting for it , of defending it within myself over the past year.  It is the type of thing you have to stand up for.  

As I started having these thoughts and was struggling with this new spirit of cynicism inside myself, I got to know a group of tender-hearted Minnesotans.  There were twenty of them on the mission trip I was helping to lead and they came to Nicaragua with an abundance of light.  Their hope glimmered and shone everywhere they went.   

I watched them encounter  darkness and poverty with eyes of love.  I watched them smile inside the most overwhelmingly poor places with tears on their faces, dreaming of what could become there and pulling out the good that already existed.  I listened as they poured out their hurt and pain, as they acknowledged their brokenness, as they pleaded with Jesus to come and be among them.  

Many moments I just watched them in awe, so challenged and so encouraged by the hope they made the conclusion of their stories.  It is not easy to do that. 

I've been thinking about how when things in this world make me sad or weary I construct this little cave inside myself and I go there to stay.  It is built by all my heartbreaks and disappointments.  The darkness of it feels familiar, and it feels safe.  And the more time I spend there the more and more I distrust the light just beyond the door of this cave, just beyond the pain.  I stop believing it could help me.  I start remembering how foolish it has made me feel, how it has burned me, and how scary it would be to go out and live in it again.  

I sit in this cave and cynicism wraps its fingers all around me.  

But how sad and lonely is that place? I'm learning again, slowly, the depths of joy and the greatness of hope.  I am learning how to peer alongside the edge of what bears me down and to trust that it is good. 

Living a life of hope is not living an easy life, and I don't think I knew that until now.  It is far scarier and more courageous than living in a cave of your own bitterness. You are asked to trust, you are asked to be a fool, you are asked not to give up and to dream the craziest things imaginable for this world and for other people.  

Our hopes will not play out as we want them to, and that is a very hard and heartbreaking thing.  But the way our hopes construct us and bring us joy - what ultimately comes from living in a place of light even when it is tempting to stay in the dark - that is the true reward.  I do not know what that will look like, and I think that every day it will be a little scary for me to leave the cave and to walk in this world with my eyes open and my heart expectant.   But I will keep trying to go, until I recognize that old voice inside myself that believes there is nothing too large for hope to swallow.  

about Virginia

I love this state.  I love love love it.
Sometimes I dream about running away to Italy or Iceland or Africa and doing something exotic and unique for awhile. And maybe someday I will.  But this past weekend I was just so content to live in Virginia - to drive a little circle around my homestate and to be within such close access of so many people I love.  It was the best. It was the best to be with them and to enjoy the big and small moments of their lives being all together.  There is such richness to that.

My little Tour De Virginia loop took me some super cool places. I celebrated my little cousin's birthday with family. I played tug-of-war and did a three-legged-race and a ballon toss at a work picnic. I went on my first mini geocaching adventure.  I laughed and celebrated with some of my favorite people ever as two of our dear friends got engaged.  I drank a mojito and giggled my face off with three of my best gal pals in the Richmond fan.  I visited the church I went to in college. I ate my favorite lunch bagel from Bodo's.  I went to a shower for my so-soon-to-be-married sweet friend Hannah. I drank wine while enjoying the gorgeous mountains.  I drove through the hilly back roads of Greene county where I once led Young Life and prayed blessings all over that land. I filled my belly with mom's home-cooked food and a Carousel peanut butter milkshake on Sunday evening.

Oh Virginia, you are so beautiful you make my heart stop.  And to belong to you makes me so very grateful.

ps. I almost forgot to say - another great part of this weekend was listening to Lord Huron's "Lonesome Dreams" album at least three times through.  It's perfect for all your ethereal daydreams, for getting lost in romance, for when you need to close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, etc. etc.  Whatever you need, this album's got your back. "In the Wind" is one of my favorites: