I Have Switched to Wordpress!

After a while of deliberating, I have decided to switch over to Wordpress.

My NEW link is kelseymorgan1.wordpress.com

I have published most of my older posts on that site, and all of my new ones will be on that site. I hope anyone who is keeping up with my blog will continue over on Wordpress!


XOXO

-Kelsey

You're Leading, Lord, Thus Far..

I'm one of those people who, unfortunately, can often be an out-of-site-out-of-mind kind of person. I forget things if they aren't right in front of my face. I've even forgotten my passport in a hotel safe in Belgium before (luckily I got it back before I had to go to the train station). I had even said the night before I needed to get it out of the safe or I would forget it. Forgot to get it out of the safe, and –– of course –– forgot it when I left the hotel. I write down events, times, assignments, birthdays, everything and often put an alarm on my phone for them because I can be that forgetful.

The small script tattoo across the side of my foot reads, "You're leading, Lord, thus far..." Most people don't ask if there's any story behind it, because it does seem self explanatory. There actually is a little more behind it then just what it says, and I got it permanently embedded into my skin so that I would remember what's behind it.

I've actually been asked three times in the last weekend why I chose it, which I think is a bit of a sign in and of itself. So I thought it would be good to write something down so that other people could know, but also so that when I have trouble remembering I can look back at this.

Years ago at the church I grew up in, the couple that led the music would write their own songs inspired by different Bible verses and stories. The one that has always stuck with me was "Thus Far".

The chorus goes-

You brought us to the raging waters,

We stepped in, the waters parted

Sheltered by your faithfulness and love.

Stone on stone  we build an alter, 

For you are the Lord our God,

You're leading, Lord, thus far.

The song is a reference to Moses and the Israelites in the dessert. God delivered them out of Egypt, and right away they faced an impossible challenge. God parted the sea so that they could walk by on dry land, the first of many incredible miracles. As they continued on into the dessert on the way to the land God promised to them, they followed a cloud in the sky by day and a pillar of fire by night. Time and time again they questioned, argued with, and turned from and back to God and time and time again he continued to  meet their needs with an oasis, water from rocks, manna and quail, and something and someone to lead them. When they got to the Promised Land –– the Land of Milk and Honey –– they found giants were inhabiting it. It didn't look like what they were expecting. They thought they could just walk in and everything was theirs. They were confused and afraid and thought that maybe they were wrong about everything they had been thinking. But again, God delivered them and fulfilled his promise. 

The reason I chose to have it as a constant reminder is because there are so many things in that story that I forget. Because I've grown up with these stories and know them from beginning to end, I forget that the Israelites didn't really know what to expect exactly. They didn't really know how long they would be in the dessert, they didn't really know what all they would face, and they didn't really know what would happen when they got there. All they had to go on was a promise from someone they couldn't see and couldn't touch. It's easy to question how they could have doubted so often when God proved himself time and time again and in such super natural ways. But it's also easy to forget how often we do the same thing today. It's also easy to forget that we know how their story ended, but they didn't –– just like we don't know exactly how our story will end. 

God guided them by a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. To me, it reminds me that sometimes God's guidance is very subtle –– as subtle as a cloud in the sky. Sometimes his guidance is as blatant and unusual as a pillar of fire. Either way, He is always guiding us in one way or another so long as we are looking for Him. As I said before, along the way he continually provided things they needed, just as he does during the different seasons of our life. Finally, when they got where they were going it didn't look like anything they had expected. This happens to us so often, and it makes us question if had been wrong or done the wrong thing or made the wrong decision. The thing is, they weren't wrong. They were right where they were supposed to be, and in the end it was better than anything they could have imagined. I believe that it's the same for us. 

So that's the story, and it's a little more than what you might get just by reading the tattoo on my foot. It's something I continue to forget and am glad I got the reminder, and I'm thankful for the people who remind me of it without even meaning to.

Letters from Abroad: Gems in Paris

[Originally published in The Tiger Newspaper April 7, 2016]

I think one of the most important things you can do when you’re abroad or new to an area and school is to find places where you feel at home. I got really lucky and ended up in a program that leaves me a lot of time to travel –– and I mean a lot. I’ve actually gotten to spend the last month or so in Paris, and I’ve gotten a chance to look for some hidden gems to call my own. 

If you know me, you know I have an obsession with quirky and quaint little coffee shops. Desperately needing to fill the void that has been left by the absence of All In, I decided to start working my way through what a particular travel article claims are the “Top 10 Coffee Shops in Paris.” 

This include places that are little shoe repair shops turned coffee shops and places famous for baristas in bowties who serve all their drinks in lime green cups. 

I went to the first coffee shop and told myself I wouldn’t go back to one coffee shop before trying the other ten. I’ve been back to this safe place four times now. It’s called La Caféothèque de Paris and is in Le Marais; from the front door, you can see Notre Dame and the Seine River. I always go to the furthest room where they have some eclectic art on the walls and rustic, brightly painted but chipped wooden tables with tall grassy plants around the windows. I’m starting to get recognized there already, and I have my usual order: a cappuccino and a slice of cheesecake with strawberry drizzle. 

I can’t remember what made me even remember this; I was probably wishing I could go hang out in Barnes and Noble or Books-A-Million for a while. Whatever the reason, one day I decided to go hunting for Shakespeare and Company, hoping that they might have at least a section of books in English. Good news! All the books are in English, and it’s the coolest bookstore I’ve ever seen in my life. 

It’s a little overwhelming because it’s not a large space, but it’s packed ceiling to floor and wall to wall to wall with books, alongside book-filled tables in the middle of the room, a makeshift bookshelf running diagonally along the stair case on both sides, a makeshift bookshelf in the wall at the end of the stairs and bookshelves somehow squeezed into the mix on the first floor, with a similar set-up upstairs. All of the books upstairs are for reading in the store on the chairs, cushions and wall nooks. Anywhere you can think they might find a place for books, they did. They also offer the “random book” which is five euros for a book that in a small box, so you have no idea what book you’re getting. I got “The Racketeer” by John Grisham and read it in less than a week. 

Just because of space constraints, I’ll finish with this one last homey find. Like any good southerner, I managed to find a barbecue sandwich in Paris. Ironically enough, I was actually looking everywhere for a salad that was going to cost fewer than 15 euros. After finally moving into the Bastille area knowing it had a lot of bars and restaurants, I somehow happened upon a small half lounge/half pub called The Frog Revolution that was advertising “American Soul Food.” 

Of course, it was no Smokin’ Pig, but not everyone can be a barbecue god –– especially outside of the Southern USA. I sat at a little table by a big window in a big, old, fancy armchair that you might expect to see in a fancy home library of an old, well-read British man who sits in his chair and smokes cigars in front of a fireplace. 

I hope all of you Tigers are enjoying the last stretch of the school year. I know it’s a rough part of the semester, but you’re almost there, and I’m almost home. Not quite, but almost. 

‘Til next time.

–– Kelsey 

 La Caféothèque de Paris

Shakespeare & Co. random books

~Matthew 25:40~

P.S. sorry for pulling a blogging-foul and not taking a picture of my BBQ sandwich. I got a little too excited when I got it. I'll remember for next time though! 

Why Did I Leave Charleston?

If you know me, you know I love Charleston. You probably also know that before becoming a Clemson Tiger(one of the best decisions I've ever made), I was a College of Charleston Cougar. I often am asked why I left Charleston if I love it so much, and it's a great question.

I think it's funny sometimes when I think about my freshman year at CofC, because it seems as if there was no reason for me to be unhappy. But, I was. I was very unhappy. To sum it all up in one sentence, CofC was not what I needed at that point in my life. I knew when I left that I eventually wanted to come back, but I also knew that I was in need of something different.

So, I went to the school that I didn't give a second thought to in high school, the one I said I didn't want to go to because it was out in the middle of nowhere, the one my guidance counselor said she couldn't see me at, the one that I never could have seen myself at. Clemson is everything I imagined college would be and more. I've met amazing people that have completely changed the way I look at people and the way I look at the world, I'm known in my classes of 100+ people because I'm always talking in class, I've joined some clubs I never would have thought I would be interested in. I've grown up a lot. I've been living in an apartment and paying rent and bills, I've had internships, and now I'm studying abroad.

I had a lot of growing up to do to. I never realized I wouldn't be able to do the growing I needed to at CofC, but looking back it makes a lot of sense. I have family there and have grown up making several trips a year just two hours south of my hometown, my sister was a senior at CofC my freshman year, I was already familiar with the campus and with the dorms and the "to-do/not-to-do" of a lot of classes, professors, etc. There was nothing for me to figure out really.

I remember when I was freaking out because after signing my lease in Clemson and getting my acceptance email, I suddenly did not want to leave. I cried every single day for probably a week and a half straight and I could barely eat for a week and a half straight. I have never honestly believed I couldn't go through with something until then. I ended up calling one of my old teachers from high school who was basically my Mr. Feeney because I knew he could be a voice of reason for me one way or another. I don't remember all of what he said, but I remember the phone call was almost an hour long and I spent a good part of the conversation in tears. I remember he said it was okay to be sad because I was also leaving behind a lot of good things. I remember he said he had been praying about the conversation while we were playing phone tag for a few days, and he was reminded of the story of Abraham. He said God told him to leave his home and to go to a place he would show him, so Abraham did. He got there and settled down for a little bit, and then God said "Okay good, now go just a little bit further."

(I've published a pretty detailed entry a while back["On Being Scared"], so I won't repeat all of the details again here.)

I think it's funny how despite how much I love Charleston, it wasn't right for me at that point in time. I've grown up a lot and changed a lot since then. In my post-high school life I've now lived in the wonderful Charleston, the mountains of upstate South Carolina, and in the crazy, bustling Paris. For a long time I said I might like to move somewhere else for a while, maybe Charlotte or Florida or somewhere up north or even somewhere abroad for a year or so before settling down in Charleston.

But now, I'm getting a little tired of feeling like I'm living a gypsy life. And that's something I never thought I would say.