the last day of college, act of worship on my rug

I prayed this afternoon, in twilight frustration about my REM-interrupted, apathetic, isolated, no-good day, that God would show me the work that he would have me do.

This is it: what I am doing right now. My work is to remember God’s grace, God’s love, and how he has manifested Himself through so many people…in my weaknesses and strengths. I haven’t gotten through the last four years because I am strong. I haven’t forged lasting friendships because I am perfect. I haven’t found a major or passion because I am clever and industrious. I am about to graduate the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill because I am LOVED by a HUGE and GLORIOUS King, Redeemer, and Friend!!!!

God couldn’t have made this more evident to me in the manner that He chose. Of course I would have come to the RUF Banquet kicking and screaming, grumbling some jibberish about how “no one knows me” and thinking myself “past” RUF. Of course I wouldn’t have decided on my own strength, “Yes, this would be a lovely thing for me to do in which I will encounter God’s faithfulness to me through the years.” That isn’t my history. God has always used my weaknesses to the very fullest to teach me bigger lessons about Himself.

While at the RUF Senior Banquet I was well aware of my failures; I was not like Bethany- I had not been faithful to RUF through the years…I mean, from my very first day I was running away, not towards, large group and organized activities. When Ben was fired I grew frustrated and disillusioned and bitter. I harbored all sorts of bad fruit. I missed out on opportunities to draw near to folks—I ate with Rebecca just once or twice, and never have I done anything with Hannah Hoffman one-on-one. When I dated Mike I wilted and withdrew from community. I have not always loved Julia; I have been super-frustrated with her for MONTHS, and she was right in saying that our friendship was “stretching” (yet so so fruitful!) Yet these failures don’t crush me before God; Christ really has nailed them to the cross, been scorned for them, bled for them, killed for them, and RAISED in spite of them! I could stand in that room, loved and valued by RUFers not because I was perfect, but because every promise in Jesus is “Yes” and “Amen” and one of those promises is to use even Courtney Potter’s smallest acts of (unconscious) faith to spread His glory to others. That’s why person after person could raise their hand and share with me meaningful ways—both small and HUGE—that God had used me in their lives. It’s incredible. It’s absolutely incredible that this flighty, emotional, noncommittal, doubting woman could make a difference in the lives of people around her. God used me? ME????? But it’s not incredible in the sense that Jesus promised this would happen.

And that’s what I mean when I say the RUF Senior Banquet was a foretaste of heaven. When I die and ascend to glory, I will remember all those hard lessons that I had to learn on earth; I will remember my failures and mistakes. But that sin and weakness will no longer crush me the way it can on earth. I will not be ashamed not because those sins are small but because Christ will be VISIBLE, and that visibility will cover all of my darkness. On earth I am sinner saved by grace, and in heaven I will still be a sinner saved by grace. And I will see all the other ways that God used me to love others and make His glory known that went unrecognized by myself or others on earth. I will not forget my past; no, my memory of my past will be magnified in the presence of Christ. Does not darkness’ very presence provide a contrast for light, making the final painting that much more stunning?
Lord- thank you for your faithfulness to me. Thank you for fulfilling your promise to use me. I really am a jar of clay, and you really are the Maker! And what you have made is good. I praise you for the works of your hands!

I am so encouraged and refreshed right now. So motivated to continue the difficult, threateningly dangerous battle of “working out my salvation in fear and trembling.” God has brought me so so so far and will bring me yet farther.
It’s funny and humbling when you think about the ways I was used to bless others. Elly said I blessed her when I said that I don’t shave my legs because I’m practicing self-confidence. How could not shaving my legs be a BLESSING to others? That’s crazy. We’re talking about leg-hair, here. But this lifted her spirits and encouraged her to not worry about outward appearances and man’s thoughts when what God thinks of you is the only thing that really matters. Hannah said I’m like a big sister to her, yet I didn’t “pursue” her with the fervor and devotion with which I have pursued other friendships. Quentin said he communes with God and prays because I share my struggles so much; if I didn’t struggle openly, he wouldn’t have prayed. Okay, so God uses my SIN then! To benefit others and get them to talk to Him. That’s even weirder than the leg-hair thing. Julia said I blessed her the first week of school when she was “catatonic” and I took her out to Fosters for lunch. She said she didn’t remember a word I said, but that it spoke mountains to her. This may be the weirdest of them all! It means that God didn’t use my well-crafted words in that instance. But He still used me to love Julia and bring glory to His name!

Folks said I was organic, spiritual, genuine, different in thinking and dress, honest, imperfect, sincere in my love for God and my openness for Him to work in my life. That’s really really cool. For anyone who didn’t know me before freshmen year of college—this description is a TOTAL makeover, from the inside-out. In high school I was limited and closed rather than organic; over-analytical rather than spiritual, intense rather than genuine; conformist in thought and dress rather than expressive; striving for perfection rather than honest about my imperfections, absent in love for God or others, and scared of letting Him in. HOLY CRAP. This isn’t superficial. God’s working in my life—God’s grace—has caused me to realize on every level the freedom that I have in Christ. I am me—organic, genuine, emotionally volatile, different, etc.—because I am free in Christ to be that. He is shaping me into the beautiful woman that He has made me to be, and I can boast in His work. I look at myself and I have pride—not because I did it, but because God is writing my story, and He is the best story-teller.

And now college is coming to end. It was the last day of class. It was my last RUF event. And now I am sprawled, half-naked, on the rug in my crazy grafitti-walled apartment, listening to Iron and Wine as I beat on the broken keyboard of my old laptop, which has been with me for these last four years for acts of worship such as this one. What was my work for today? To go to the RUF Senior Banquet and hear how God has used my in others’ lives. To worship God at 10:52 pm on my rug, responding to the fiery impulse inside of my heart to write to Him in humility and sincere thankfulness.

thank you.

caffeinated ramblings

just drank coffee out of a to-go mug my photo story subjects lent me, and now i'm sitting in my empty apartment listening to Jai Ho on youtube and feeling potential. I'm about to sit down and do my Visual Culture readings, which has been the hardest thing to do these days...just sit in the present and be a student. hopefully spring break cured my restlessness for a bit. i want to learn Paul's secret of being content in any and every situation!

anyways, here are the highlights of this month:

-finally delved into my j481 photo story, on the Sexton family. It's really nice taking pictures again, and this is one of the first stories I have done where I feel more like a friend and less like a strange photographer (though I still retain that strangeness, as Tim so kindly reminds me with each opening and closing of the shutter). :) Hospitality isn't just something done on the side with this family, it's a lifestyle...and natural one that seems to just flow and spill and spread out all over the place. I've really enjoyed picking Tim and Amie's brains...they have a heart for Jesus, a heart for kids, a heart for community-building and living "not safely." It's such a contrast to the way I was raised, and they retain an attractive selflessness that convicts and challenges and encourages me. I fell asleep on their couch last night after talking about parenting and growing up and how God will gut out your/my/our selfishness and provide for you/me/us and countless other things, like starting Christian communes (and that commune in Philly started by Shane something-or-other, a pastor with dreads. oh and they fed me pancakes this morning. :) below are some photos...trying to string together a storyline:















-had refreshing time with Jesus at the beach in South Carolina, which included a solo bike exploration across Hilton Head island and my Bible. I had several "gospel" moments, where He reminded me so firmly and gently that He loves me even though i don't have my act together! Ever since I started dating Mike, and even before (think: last spring) I've been wandering from the folds of God, and it's okay! Colossians 2 invokes us to remember how we received our salvation and continue in Christ in this same way. If I received Christ (rather, Christ reached me) when I was a loveless, angry, rebellious and clinically depressed teenager, I do not need to wait until I'm "healthy" or cured of all current restlessness, anxiety, and lovelessness in order to remain in Christ! He expects me to be a wanderer! He expects me to forget Him and to sin! And He loves me anyways! He loves me fiercely...do you know how loved I am???!!!! And He IS changing me; He has already begun the process of gutting out my heart and filling it with Christ. I am no longer defined by my lovelessness and my rebellion, even though I still struggle with sin, because Christ has adopted me and defined my by His family. Repent and believe, repent and believe. Jesus is my atoning sacrifice; there is therefore now no condemnation in Christ Jesus.

-watched Slumdog Millionaire. Go see it. Sponsor a kid from Mumbai. Then go dance to Jai Ho.

-started a new painting!!!!! I haven't painted since before I broke up with Mike, and for awhile I was scared that I let all of my artistic inspiration spring from and for him. Oh and I sold my first painting!

-crossed paths with old friends who were once very dear to my heart, and then we just sort of fell out of sync for a bit. I'm excited to see what God will do with these intersections.

-By God's grace, am starting to give up some of my desires to the Lord. As much as I want a photo job and to grow/utilize my gifts, I want to want Jesus more. The gift is not greater than the Giver; the photo job is not going to give me the satisfaction or security that only Jesus can give. God has been showing me how much I'm trying to make my home in this world; the truth is, though, that all of the deepest desires of my heart WILL be met in Heaven, and Jesus is already beginning to woo me! I may not ever feel "utilized" on earth, and God could very well cause me to lose my sight or to lose my hands, but He has a specific job for me and a specific role for me and a specific place for me in His House in the New Heavens!

-started wearing random second-hand clothing again. My mom bought me a bunch of nice clothes for Christmas, which I appreciate, but I missed throwing on headscarves and hole-y leggings and painted-smeared dresses. I know it's just clothes, but God made us visual people and He wants for us to express ourselves!

-read Water for Elephants and most of Travels with Charley in Search for America.

-slept outside under the stars and went in some rich person's backyard to watch a magnificent sunset in South Carolina that reminded me of Patagonia...gave me the same stirring in my heart that I forgot was there!

-ran out of rent money for may. God is putting lots of stumbling blocks in my place, for my good. He is disciplining me in my finances because he loves me...pray for patience and good stewardship...pray that I could look to Him to provide and do what I need to do to be faithful to His calling to love Him and love others (with my money). It's definitely an area of my life I need lots of growth in...managing time, money, gifts, etc., in a wise way that isn't selfish. At any rate, I think this means a closed door for the Galapagos...which is good! God is closing one door to open a better one, and to make me more like Jesus.

okay so this was kind of random. School starts again on Monday. It's my last six weeks as a student...ever. Holy Cow.

dear words, my old friends:

I don't understand how people who make pictures for a living can update their blogs with images, images images. all the time. don't get me wrong, I love pictures (and I love the people who have legit photo blogs--they are some of the most talented, beautiful and inspiring people I know), but I can't eat, breathe and sleep photos they way I ought* to. There's so much naked experience to be embraced, without sewing fig leaves for myself out of my digital SLR.

isn't it funny that this is photo blog, but all I want to do is write? Admittedly, I've felt trapped by photojournalism and its academic demands. I know I'm not experiencing the real thing, because I was happy as a clam this summer while adventuring in naples with my camera and new visual friends. but i just don't want to make pictures right now. I would rather make pictures with words--old friends, neglected by the courtney on the right for a time. I have not forgotten you! In fact, I need you!

what I love about writing in this instant is I don't care much about its quality. I'm not writing for personal gain, I'm not writing to prove, strive, achieve, compare, beat, smother, conquer. I'm just writing because I haven't exercised verbal muscle in quite some time, and it's delightful rediscovering this pleasure. In the worn texture of the keys beneath my fingers, in the way my mind is simultaneously soothed and stimulated. It's like revisiting the backyard of my childhood home, with the three oak trees and tire swing. I haven't pumped, back and forth, back and forth, beneath those autumny branches in some time.

not that I don't love photography. I just need a sabbatical from images for a bit; enough of media commodities and mechanical reproducibility. Expression's playground is really the Amazon, and photography is just one Pourouma. I want to frolic and be a spirit-child for a bit.

spring break is coming. shall I travel to montreal?

*I am trying to recognize negative thought patterns (see earlier blog post on Wendell Berry and expectation) in myself. I impose ridiculous requirements on myself; I must go through forty "oughts" and "shoulds" and "ought nots" and "should nots" a day! Who says I ought to have a photo blog with images? Pat? Future employers? God? No one. I think this is a still a photo blog. or expression blog or venting blog or seeking inspiration or respite blog or something. whatev.old

to be a Real Photographer and other insights into mystery

this semester has been bleak and mechanic, as I have been trapped in my preconceptions and expectations. I live in a circle of selfishness, making (not-so) calculated moves based on my desires, dreams, fears and self-affirming ambitions. But what of the world outside of that enclosure, over my white picket Fences? What of a mystery and grandeur so powerful that I am dwarfed and put in my proper place? I say I believe in the Puritan tenet that "the way down is up,"--that suffering means glorification, but I don't actually live with this conviction. I want to look beyond my idea of who God is, of what the world is, of who i am, of goodness and badness, of truth and beauty. The idea is not the reality, yet I live as if I know the answers. I want to look beyond my mind's enclosure and allow myself to be changed by what I see.

I guess the first step to doing this is being honest about the ways I have not done this. I used to pride myself on my honesty, but I learned last semester that I am not honest; the hardest thing for me to do is paint how I really feel about my family or my body. I cannot for the life of me come up with photo story ideas; I do not know what inspires me, what tickles my soul, what brings me to my knees in praise. For the past six months I have approached work with an increasingly fearful mindset, unable to avoid anxiety attacks outside of the J-school or streams of tears when alone in my apartment--the pressure of tedious deadlines and self-imposed expectations on my shoulders. And let's not even talk about job applications--I haven't approached this optimistically, realistically, or with any semblance of discipline. If I can't land the perfect photo job after school, then why try at all?

What a destructive way of thinking! In trying to escape work (for fear of it), I have robbed myself of the capacity to enjoy work and leisure. In looking for the future-placed product to fulfill me (the completed photo story, the secured post-graduation job, the changed circumstances), I have lost sight of Character and Grace. To complete the photo story, I need inspiration and discipline. In securing the post-graduation job, I need patience and courage. Instead of begging God to change my circumstances and remove the hardships, the struggles, the temptations, why don't I pray for Character? Why don't I ask for transformation that transcends my limited human abilities? I think this is a bit of what it means to share in Christ's sufferings; my dependent Savior knew only what God showed Him.

I hate how I'm using photojournalism. I hate the contests. I hate getting caught up in MY progress, MY portfolio, MY story, MY career. I am building an identity out of this work, this art, which should really be a vehicle for mercy. I have cherished my subjects or the world while using it; I have not even really done much of it because I am spending so much of my energy trying to figure out how I can use it to get what I want (i.e. a trip to the Galapagos Islands, a job that will pay me enough money to pay off loans, adventure, excitement, pleasure, security, comfort, status, importance). And I have not been happy (for good reason). In all my selfish twistings of the Gift, I have lost my capacity to feel and love others and the world. I want to do what I do, not because I am duty-bound, but because I love the world and love my family. I want my work to serve the earth I live on and from and with, meaningfully, unendingly. I want to taste the daily and seasonal rewards that come from hard work. I want spiritual and tangible connection.

But all is not lost! This blog entry would end here, in utter hopelessness, if I didn't have a Saviour. Look up, Courtney! Lift your darkened and clouded eyes to the heavens! Even though your sight if flawed, you can feel the warmth of the Sun on your face! Repent and believe! You are far more selfish than you could ever know, but this does not stop me from loving you! You will never use my gifts in the way you ought, but I will still love you. I died for thieves and swindlers; I died for people like you, who abuse people in the name of "art," who misappropriate power, who spend money unwisely on your own pleasures, who run away from responsibilities. I give life to people who have absolutely NOTHING good to account for in their own lives. Your ONLY work on earth is to believe! And since this is too big of a task for you to handle, I will give you all the grace you need to help you believe. So stop trying to fix your problems, which are really anthills--not temples--and let me infuse your life with Love and Inspiration and Awe and Meaning and Romance and Wonder and Paradox and Humility and Value. I will do it! I will lead in you the good works I have set out for you!

I want to end with this passage from Wendell Berry's "The Once Inch Journey," which I find incomprehensibly beautiful and mysterious. It fills me with a sense of hope and gratitude; God is working out the ends to which I aspire. To be a real Photographer. This work that He is doing is simple: He is clarifying my Sight.

"I turn to the figure of the photographic artist--not the tourist-photographer who goes to a place, bound by his intentions and preconceptions, to record what has already been recorded and what he therefore expects to find, but the photographer who goes into a place in search of the real news (the Good News) of it.

His search is a pilgrimage, for he goes along ways he does not fully understand, in search of what he does not expect and cannot anticipate. His work involves a profound humility, for he has effaced himself; he has done away with his expectations; he has ceased to make demands upon the place. He keeps only the discipline of his art that informs and sharpens his vision--he keeps, that is, the practice of observation--for before a man can be a seer he must be a looker. His camera is a dark room, and he has made a dark place in his mind, exultant and fearful, by which he accepts that he does not know what he is going to see, he does not know the next picture. He has entered into the darkness--in order to see! But for the moment the dark lens holds only a vague potency, like a seed, still one with the mystery of what will come next, which is one with the mystery of the wilderness and of creation.

And then there comes a breaking of the light--and there is another shore to step out of the dark upon, lighted by a blooming flower like a candelabra. We are invited on! We are led on as by the promise of a feast spread for us that we do not yet know. In the shadows a little stream steps down over a ledge of rock into the light. Beyond are the trees, and the darkness again...The camera is a point of reference, a bit like a compass though not nearly so predictable. It is the discipline and the opportunity of vision. In relation to the enclosure we call civilization, these pictures are not ornaments or relics, but windows and doors, enlargements of our living space, entrances into the mysterious world outside the walls, lessons in what to look for and how to see. They limit our comfort; they drain away the subtle corruption of being smug; they make us a little afraid, for they suggest always the presence of the unknown, what lies outside the picture and beyond eyesight; they suggest the possibility of the sudden accesses of delight, vision, beauty, joy that entice us to keep alive and reward us for living; they can serve as spiritual landmarks in the pilgrimage to the earth that each on of us must undertake alone.

Always in the big woods when you leave familiar ground and step off alone into a new place there will be, along with the feelings of curiosity and excitement, a little nagging of dread. It is the ancient fear of the unknown, and it is your first bond with the wilderness you are going into. You are undertaking the first experience, not of the place, but of yourself in the place. It is an experience of our essential loneliness, for nobody can discover the world for anybody else. It is only after we have discovered it for ourselves that it becomes a common ground and a common bond, and we cease to be alone."

It's a spiritually journey of learning how to see, learning how to be at home. Each inch humbling and joyful.

seeds

kirk told me that I need to put my energy into my art. I waste a lot of mental and creative energy just...thinking.

i agree, but then i look at other posts and i disagree. the thinking can help. and the thinking can be important. but i need to just DO.

on another note, I love holgas, polaroids, lensbabies, and southeastern camera in carrboro.

deep thinking

"We're in such a hurry most of the time we never get much chance to talk. The result is a kind of endless day-to-day shallowness, a monotony that leaves a person wondering years later where all the time went and sorry that it's all gone...Instead you spend your time being aware of things and meditating on them. On sights and sounds, on the mood of the weather and things remembered, on the machine and the countryside you're in, thinking about things at great leisure and length without being hurried and without feeling you're losing time." --Pirsig, from zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance."

I've been thinking a lot about photography lately. Sometimes my over-analytical mind can get the most of me, but recently I've been contemplating the merits of, well, thinking. While making pictures is an important part of the art, it's probably only 10% of the work. If I didn't read books, have conversations with other artists, journal, and pray I don't think my photography would be where it is now. I feel like so many photographers these days can be "snap-shot" photographers...shutter happy and relying too much on the post-production. What about the pre-production? What about using your mind? What about using your heart and letting that shape what you see?

It's a very circular, organic process. You find something beautiful- a dilapidated barn, a morning frost, a laughing roommate, an interesting reflection, a moment- and isolate it in time. You make a photograph. You make many photographs. Then you put the camera down for awhile and carry on life...broadening your horizons in the nitty-gritty realities...having good conversations, reading under a tree, eating with the family. You bring all these things to your photography and bring your photography to these things. Then you go back an edit your pictures later. It's a brutal process, like being naked in a room...you see all your flaws in your art and get frustrated that your vision didn't translate as beautifully, as transparently in your film. You think some more. You read some more, underlining texts and letting new thoughts enter. Letting them steep. Then you let inspiration guide you and you make more photograph. It's a circle. There aren't twelve easy steps, but many overlapping parts. That's why I say I'm a photographer even when I put my camera down.

Then again, I think there is a lot of fear in there...because maybe I don't pick up my camera enough. I'm not that girl who always totes her camera. I tried it for awhile...I can be that in spurts. But I get tired of it...because I need to go think. Maybe I'm too comfortable doing that.