So Sleepy:

I'm sleepy. The Freshers are here. They make me tired. My brain is mushy. I've had so many meetings and greetings. All I know is I freaked a bit and overemphasized that I do not like to be called 'Liz'. Oh they must think I am nuts. I need a nap already and it's only 11 am. I might go sneak a quick set of zzzs. I'll be more coherent next week, I promise. :)

Love to all,
Elizabeth

Historical Evidence of My Grandpa:

I received an email today from my Uncle Steve. My Aunt Kathy is on a sojourn to Georgia where she was born and where my Granny and Grandpa lived for several years as my Grandpa started his ministry. He had gone to school at Mercer University in Macon and preached at Bowdon Baptist Church in Bowden, Georgia. Aunt Kathy is following his footsteps and seeing the places that were so meaningful in Grandpa's life. I am certainly envious, but very very joyful at the thought of my dear Aunt having these experiences.

Uncle Steve found in his research about Bowdon Baptist a mention in a biography of a Georgian philanthropist of my Grandfather. The things I know about Grandpa are from others. Their memories, their knowledge. And on some level this is wonderful. I am grateful for fond memories of a man who is so dear to my family, especially to my Momma and my Aunt. But I've often found the process of someone saying "He was a great man," to be a bit hollow. What does "great" mean? It can mean many things to many different people. And so, while I often feel gratitude that my grandpa impacted lives so positively, I feel angry and sad that he didn't get the chance to do the same in mine. At least, not that I can remember. But, and this is important, as I age I can see the beauty in the investigation of my Grandpa's life, personality, and experiences. I am an historian (and my Momma says some of my interest is surely to come from Grandpa) and in my heart I am continuously researching the history of my Grandfather.

Back to the original point: Uncle Steve sent me a wonderful anecdote in this biography of Lamar Rich Plunkett. As an historian it was a lovely bit of oral history and evidence. As a granddaughter, well I can't quite state what it meant/means. I can only smile with the stream of a few tears down my cheek and think simultaneously that I'm so lucky people loved him enough to remember and so jealous that I didn't get to see it in person. I am glad, however, that I continue to love this man who I never really knew, simply because he was my Grandfather. And really, at the end of the day, that's all he ever needs to be. It's enough.

I leave you with the entry from A Gift for Giving: The Story of Lamar Rich Plunkett by James C. Bryant (Mercer University Press, 1993), p. 218:

"Lamar loves his church and seldom misses a service. He has been a friend to all his pastors, but naturally he was closer to some than others. He served on a pulpit committee that found Ed Straney, one of his favorite pastors. "Straney was a Kentuckian, educated at Southern Baptist Seminary, and a brilliant preacher," Lamar said. "He also had a mind of his own and wouldn't compromise."

One day at a deacons meeting someone pressed the board to liven up the services with popular gospel music. They discussed the matter for a while, and when it seemed as though the proposal might succeed, the preacher spoke up. "You may vote to have undignified church music if you want to, " Pastor Straney said, "but I won't preach after it!"

L. Edward Straney, a 1945 graduate of Mercer University, was pastor of the Bowdon church from 1951 until 1953 prior to moving to Columbus, Georgia. In 1983 he was a pastor in Jeffersontown, Kentucky."

In 1983 he became my Grandpa, too.

Love,
Elizabeth

Happiness = Kai:

I'm tired. My brain feels like mush. And my legs are aching from inactivity. Stinkin' thesis. BUT, there is one continuous source of joy in my daily experience and that is seeing pictures of my gorgeous nephews Isaac and Kai. Today in particular a shot of my Kai (he's my godson, you know) made me smile and remember to have some perspective on this short period in my life when I will feel overwhelmed by one single text-based document. I share it with you so you can smile too.

Oh, yes, he is in fact the cutest baby I have ever seen. Love him!

I love you all too,
Elizabeth

Can't Sleep:

It's late, I cannot fall asleep. My mind is racing (thanks thesis) and honestly, I'm really homesick. Usually I come home this time of year and it's difficult being away from those I love most in the world. My momma used to sing me a lullaby when I was a small child. She's not here to sing one tonight, so this will have to do.



I miss my family.

Love to all,
Elizabeth

Draft Writing:

Tomorrow I'm submitting some drafts to my supervisor. I know they are supposed to be drafts. I know he knows they are supposed to be drafts. He has never, once, said anything bad or discouraging. He is supportive. And yet, I am nervous about giving him my work, lest he suddenly discover I'm an idiot. I know this won't happen. I know rationally it is not true. I know my work is well researched and thought out. I know I have to make changes, because that's what you do with a draft. But I have the fear! Nearly every grad student in Oxford has this fear. It's not spoken about, but it's rampant. It means that we all fear this comic becoming a reality:

I suppose the only way around this fear is to acknowledge it, accept it, and move beyond it. So, I have the fear. I'm not a fan, but there it is. I'm going to submit my work anyway, because even if it's bad, well, it's a draft and I will fix it. It's fine as long as I keep writing. I just hope my supervisor remembers that it is a draft too! :)

Love to all,
Elizabeth

Not Much to Say:

I had a good meeting with my supervisor on Friday. I'm working towards my final hurdle before the submission of my doctoral thesis and so I have to submit a piece of work in the next few weeks. It will be some of my writing, along with a chapter plan and a timeline for completion of my thesis. This is a little bit scary. But actually, it's not as scary as it once was. I'm feeling confident about my project. I figure if I keep working and believe it will be ok, then it will be. I have faith in myself and my supervisors and in God to get my through. So...there's not too much other than work going on around here.

I hope all my friends and family in the path of Hurricane Irene are safe! Please take care of yourselves. Also, I painted my nails pink. And I bought a sweater. Life is so exciting! In all honesty, life is exciting. I feel peaceful, determined, and so very blessed. The sun is shining right now...what more can I want? Lots, I suppose. But for now I'll just say that I'm ok. And of course I miss everyone at home. I love you. All of you. These are my Sunday afternoon ramblings. I give them to you so you remember I'm still me.

All my love,
Elizabeth

Happy of Myself:

This video went viral in the Oriel community during the stress and craziness of Trinity Term exams. Both the MCR (grad students) and JCR (undergrads) sent this out on their mailing lists to inspire and remind each other that hard work and practice go a long way towards achieving desired success.



Everyday I work to feel happy of myself. If I can go to bed content with my effort and progress then I feel happy of myself. If not, well, then I heed the words of this wise little boy, and I keep practicing, so that I can achieve what I've set out to do. He inspires others to ride a bike, but if I change the words to write a thesis, well, it still works. I share it with you so that you also may feel happy of yourself. If nothing else, the self-belief of a small boy is so heart-warming that you can't help but smile.

Love and happiness to all,
Elizabeth

Thursday Breakfast:

Every first and third Thursday of the month there is a farmer's market in Gloucester Green, Oxford's market square. It has fresh goat's cheese, local vegetables, delicious baked bread, and other wonderful products and produce. Over the last year or so (or more?! I'm not sure!) my friends and I have made it a tradition to go each of these Thursdays to enjoy the market and some coffee before going back to work. We also have breakfast there. We have doughnuts/donuts. A bakery from Reading comes twice a month to bring freshly baked doughnuts filled with delicious home-made and seasonal fillings. Jams, custard, chocolate. It's all there. It's delicious. Today was what we now loving call, "Doughnut Day". I had a vanilla custard doughnut with a cup of coffee and a banana. So yummy! I love doughnut day. I don't care to think about how often I'm now eating doughnuts. Especially when occasionally I splurge and have something else to eat as well, such as a sausage roll or bacon sandwich. The vendors bring in these great products and cook them fresh in front of you. Think whole pig on a spit. So did I splurge today? Well, yes. Today I had a piece of fried chicken. I do not know why. It was only a drumstick. It tasted like home. I think my stomach subconsciously knew that the Kentucky State Fair was beginning today. It was the closest equivalent. So for breakfast today I had a doughnut and fried chicken. And while I'm worried for my arteries, I feel very satisfied with my choices. They made me happy. And they tasted so good.

Love to all,
Elizabeth

The Meadow:

I am lucky to live so close to this. It's Christ Church Meadow and when I need to stretch my legs or think through an idea that doesn't quite work, this is the place to go. It's a mile around and provides gorgeous views of the city. It's great to know there is an oasis of calm and beauty just around the corner from my flat.

I think it's time for a walk.

Love to all,
Elizabeth

The Library:

It's a Saturday, in the summer, in Oriel Library. There's hardly anyone here. Just a few hard-working grad students like myself. We type, we read, we yawn. Occasionally we stare out the window at the fresh air and sunshine we are missing. Tired, sore limbs are stretched from inactivity. Uncomfortable pauses happen frequently, as a thought gets confused or a sentence remains objectionable. The stairs creak with age, and the walls echo the noise. Light splashes in from stained glass, while shadows play on the stacks of paper and the open books. Sighs of frustration and exhaustion abound. And yet we keep on. Working until are hands are numb and our brains are mush. Until our stomachs growl or our throats ache from thirst. The birds outside mock me with their freedom. But I have a story to tell. A task to accomplish. My freedom to earn. So I sit in solidarity with the others, stubbornly refusing to give up, even when a smarter person would've done so years ago. It is not easy. Ah but I have this lovely library, mostly in isolation, and I think to myself it would not be worth it if it were easy. So on a Saturday, in summer, I sit, and think, and write, and fret in Oriel Library. And I breathe. Because I am not alone, and I've got a lot to say.

Love,
Elizabeth

Thoughts on the London Riots:

Things are very unsettled here in the UK. There are concerns about increased criminality and immorality amongst the young, urban, and poor. There are cries for social cuts to stop so that education programs and aid can prevent youth gangs and violence. The Prime Minister believes that the riots have nothing to do with the increased division between the rich and poor, citing that the actions are simply criminal and have no underlying societal or cultural cause. And yet he calls for parental control, increased police action in gang neighborhoods, more discipline in schools, and states that these people are from broken families. There is confusion. There is no simple answer. There is sadness.

The British are in the process of a period of intense self-examination as a result of this destruction. Questions of society, culture, funding, support, weapons, and home-life are all on the table. There is worry about the world's perception in the wake of next years' Olympics. And in the midst of it all I have to wonder, is this symptomatic of all the pain, strife, and stress that is happening in various forms all over the world right now?

I don't know. I am a student of history with a deeply sensitive human soul. I feel deep distress at the violence, the breakdown of societal rules, and the punishment of those who have done nothing to anger the participants. Their reaction is completely and utterly wrong. And yet I have to wonder about a world in which teenage girls who are participating in these riots can proudly tell a reporter that their choice to steal and destruct is because they want the government and the rich and the police to know that they can do what they want. The words are naive, but the sentiment is powerful. They want to be noticed. They don't want to be forgotten.

In my years abroad I've increasingly felt that individualism is one of the greatest foundation stones of western powers, and yet is also western society's greatest enemy. Selfishness is rampant in the world. People think of themselves before they think of others. They forget that others do not and can not lead the same lives that they do. We are not all dealt the same hand. We do not grow up with the same parents, in the same safe places, with the same good teachers. I am so, so, so lucky. I am completely and unreservedly blessed. And so, when poor teenagers in an urban environment cause chaos and evil I am disgusted. They are wrong. Their actions should be punished. But also, I am sad. I think it is important to ask what led these young people to a place in which they felt it ok to act in this way? From where does their anger stem? Why do they express it this way? And what can we do to prevent it in future?

I see an echo in America (and this is not just me, as the Prime Minister has just made a comparison in his discussion of the riots). I am deeply distressed by the political antics in Congress that have seen our elected representatives play games for their political extremes rather than considering those of us in the middle who are the pawns of their indecision and arguments. It is shameful. We are a culture of ideology and individualism that forgets about reality and the whole. I do not understand why, despite my ability to historically trace the evolution of the American spirit. Let me say this, I love my country. I am proud to be from the US and I unashamedly claim my identity abroad. But what I see in America and in Britain presently has me concerned.

The world is suffering. In so many ways. I cannot begin to do justice to the problems and pain that others outside the West have to suffer daily. But at home, where we are lucky, we are still angry, entitled, and selfish. This is, of course, not universally true (and we are not all lucky). But I think it's increasingly obvious and it leads us to argue and fight without helping those who need the help most in our own society. I could argue myself about funding and spending and taxes, but that's not really my point. I suppose for me it's about understanding and openness. About an ability to listen and act in ways that support the whole in addition to ourselves and our families. I know this is not simple. But it is how we began. And it is how we've been taught by Christ. To forget this is to lose ourselves and lose those who need us most to feel that they too are important parts of our society.

I pray that those responsible in these riots will take their punishment seriously. I pray that the police and community workers will continue to be supported and applauded for their work and valor. I pray that our leaders will learn to consider the whole and make decisions that are for the good of our society so that we may continue to flourish and help those who are less fortunate than ourselves. I pray that we will all develop and maintain an ability to listen, to empathize, and to love. Kindness and love are missing, and that breaks my heart.

Love to all,
Elizabeth

Photos of Summer:

There's not too much that I have time for these days other than working on my thesis. There's so much to be done. However, what I've discovered in those spare moments of downtime is that I have an interest in photography that I never really knew existed. I just wanted to share a few photos with you so that you know I'm still here and still desiring of all your support. :)

Strawberries at the Provost's Garden Party (conveniently on my birthday!):

A Flamingo at the Dublin Zoo:

A Couple Rowing through Christ Church Meadow:

Summer Flowers in Second Quad:

A Shop of Norman Cidre in Honfleur:

I hope these photos bring you as much joy as they do me.

All my love,
Elizabeth

For Your Soul:

Praise the Lord for His beautiful world. And the people who spend their lives capturing it.

Love and peace to all,
Elizabeth

Spring:

It's spring in Britain. Today, I can't see a cloud in the sky. I've got my windows open to let in the fresh air. I'm feeling peaceful and calm. You can't help to feel that way when the weather is like this. Pictures soon. And a report on what I did over the weekend.

Love and peace and calm to all,
Elizabeth

Kai:

My brain is buzzing. I can't focus. I've written (ha ha Daddy!), read sermons, read secondary sources, ordered an academic book, found a bread recipe I want to make, and caught up on all of my email (good grief) today. I've accomplished a lot of what I hoped for and yet I don't feel very productive. Mostly, though, I'm ridiculously excited because today....Kai Andrews Hagan, my new nephew was born! I keep thinking of him, and Erika, and Isaac, and Andrew and I'm all giddy and gracious...well you can see what my brain is doing right now. So. I'm going to read a bit more literary theory. Write a bit more about literary theory in my thesis. And then I'm going to go home. Because darn it, there's a brand new baby in the family and I want to tell everyone all about him. He's a cutie. Just like his big brother.

Love to all,
Elizabeth

Staircase 3, Room 5:

I've been meaning to post these photos for months. I wanted you to see my lovely flat, which has become my hiding place from the insanity of the library or college. I love this apartment. I'll be sad to leave it at the end of the year. It's the first time I really feel I have a place of my own. I worked very hard to make it mine.

This is my living room (complete with dining table and Dean desk):


This is my 18th century sideboard:


This is my rug, which Emma and I found in Devon for 25 pounds. It's from Sears!:


This is my non-academic bookshelf:


And this is my office:


It doesn't look like this right now. It's chaotic. A place of stress. Tonight, I'm going to tidy it up so that it once again looks as inviting and safe as it did a few months ago. I think it's time to go back to basics. Time to organize.

Channeling Erika,
Love to all,
Elizabeth

I Hate Jet-Lag:

Also, I'm a bit homesick. Also, I'm afraid of the amount of work I have to do. Also, this is extremely true:


And yet, I refuse to give up. So...secondary source reading here I come.

Love to all and miss those at home,
Elizabeth