Out for Summer

Hello friends,

For those of you who don't have my other blog address, here it is: www.hollydahlstrom.wordpress.com.

I am currently in Rwanda and will be using that site for my Rwandan adventures. This blog (the one you are currently on) is about my life, mostly school, but my life IS Rwanda right now, so there's not much else to be posted here. I'll be back in September!

Love,

Holly

And in the blink of an eye we say good night and we say good bye.

I'm not entirely sure where this year went. Parts of it went to the lower gym classroom on Tuesday nights when group would practice. Bits and pieces were spent in various classrooms from Demaray to Bertona, learning about economics and history and many things in between. Some of it can be traced to late night adventures to frozen yogurt, hot chocolate and Kerry Park. Thursday nights in Ben and Kevin's basement, earplugs in and creativity flowing. Saturdays at Nielsen's with one of my dearest friends. Sundays consumed by waffles, Bethany, house dinners and small group. Long and beautiful Wednesdays in Upper Gwinn. My secret free Friday nights where I did anything my heart desired. Long evenings spent in deep conversation with friends. Questions of calling. Laughing at bad jokes. Bedtime stories. Dancing while brushing our teeth.

This was my year.

Perhaps when I've had more than a moment to reflect on this year I will have more to say. For now let me simply say that this has been one of the craziest, most difficult, yet somehow quite beautiful, years of my life.

Beautiful People

Has it ever been easy to say goodbye? It seems doubtful to me. Last night was the last group service of the 2010-2011 school year and, though I will be doing it all again next year, there is something so very bittersweet about the fact that this group is coming to an end. Being on group staff requires a time commitment of about 15 hours a week. In those fifteen hours, we learn about each others' lives, study scripture, discuss theology, make music, set up the stage, wrap up the chords, tear down the stage, load up the van, unload the van and take a break for four days before we do it all again. Through frustration, joy, laughter and tears, we become a very tight-knit family. I remember at the last group service of 2010 wondering how it could possibly get better. How could a group of people ever be closer than we were? Yet somehow we were closer. I have made some of my best friends on this staff over the past two years. So, though this chapter is closing in many of these staff member's lives, it will be a joy to see how we might remain in each other's lives in years to come. Whether living together, going to each other's weddings or playing in a band together, we will continue to play a role in the story to come.

It's the little things that have meant the world this year. The small moments and words of encouragement that have given me the strength to move forward. Late nights at Wendy's, campfires and holiday crafts. Stepping back into childhood for brief moments in time as our fingers are stained by egg dye or earnestly discussing our fear of the uncertainty that lies before us as we stare into the sparkling flames. These are the moments that I will remember. Yes, I will remember the services, too, but not in the same way. The hour between 5 and 6 on Wednesday has been my favorite time of the week this year. Right in the middle of the week it was a time to rest and bask in the beauty that is this family. I will continue to remember distinctly the way I would drift in and out of thought as I would be lulled into a state of calm by Sigur Ros and the gentle laughter of my staff.

I don't really know how I'm going to be able to follow this act, but I'm certainly going to try. Brian led us this year with such confidence and eloquence, with such a strong desire simply to learn. He is humble and he is brilliant...why has he entrusted such a position to me? I thank him for the way he has poured his heart into group staff this year. I have no doubt it was his devotion that made us as close as we are now. It was his confidence in me that gave me confidence in myself to be coordinator next year. He has assured me that my life will not be the same and that I will learn more in the next year than I ever thought possible. I have no doubt that he is right.

I'm excited beyond words to work with Bob even more next year. I already spend a majority of my free hours on campus lurking in his office, but I might as well do that a little more next year. Bob is brilliant and I respect him so much. There is a certain amount of dedication that he has towards group staff that some find insane. I find it beautiful because he successfully breaks down any barriers that exist when we give him the title "advisor." He is a friend. A very dear friend (who happens to know everything there is to know and more about group).

I don't think that I have any more words that I can put to this exceptional life at the present moment. Thank you group staff, for yet another wonderful year. I love you all and I look forward to the adventures ahead.

Three Lives

I've been living three distinct lives as of late. All of them have been most excellent, but I have been trying to separate them when they really ought to be flowing together. Here are my lives:

Life #1: School

If you know me at all, you know it's never been my favorite thing. The papers, the exams, the reading, the quizzes...it's too much for me. I get worn out and discouraged, I almost always fail multiple choice tests and my scatter-brained mind doesn't know what to do when I have more than fifty pages of reading at one time. The lectures, though, I love the lectures. I love LEARNING, I just don't like the fact that I am forced to do homework and get graded on it. So here I am, week 9, and wondering, "How have I even made it this far?" I have read three textbooks cover to cover. I have written a twelve page research paper. I have struggled my way through philosophy. I have memorized the countries and capitals of the world for the third time (I must admit, I will miss my geo-quizzes). Yet, as I reviewed for my final tonight I realized how amazing it is to be in school. I am in school because I want to learn more about the things that have sparked my interest. I want to be an informed citizen of this country and steward of this world. I want to be able to get a job doing what I love when I graduate from college. Call me crazy, but the 9-5 life doesn't sound so bad to me as long as I'm working for the greater good. But that's a long way off...right now I've just got to make it through the next two weeks.

Life #2: Rwanda

Are you aware that I'm getting on a plane on June 16th and flying to Kigali? You can read more about that journey here (www.hollydahlstrom.wordpress.com), but let me just tell you why it has been consuming my life. Not only am I trying to raise a huge amount of prayer and financial support, I am also so completely distracted right now. The more I learn about Rwanda and the closer I get to it, the harder it is to be present right where I am. I want to go meet the people that I am told I will meet. I want to see where I will be living. I want to meet the World Relief program director. I want to smell the supposedly smelly city. I want to feel the warmth of the new climate. My heart is having trouble staying in Seattle at present because I am anxious to do this. All that I have been learning is about to be put into action for the first time and I am beyond excited.

Life #3: group

Yes, it has been consuming, but I absolutely love it. A couple weeks ago, every spare minute I had was spent conducting an interview. Then there were auditions. Then there was the absolutely grueling process of choosing my staff for next year and that sick feeling in my stomach after we told so many people "no." Then there came Saturday. Normally "leadership kick off" is an event that I scoff at, but I felt that I needed to get over that if I am the coordinator. Yes, LEADERSHIP KICK OFF! It was actually one of the greatest days of the quarter. We volunteered at a place called the Nature Consortium and pulled invasive blackberry plants to preserve a forest in the city. A few hours later, after a couple ridiculous conversations and dozens of root balls pulled from the ground, I was surrounded by new friends. I cannot express to you how excited I am for this unexpected opportunity in my life. It will be challenging and tiring, but the hours spent with this new group of friends will be beautiful, I can already tell. I am also very much invested in this year's staff, though, and my heart aches when I try to imagine next year without them. Braden won't sneak up behind me and grab me by the shoulders every day. I won't hear the phrase "Holy smokes!" nearly enough times. I won't be lulled into a very peaceful state every time Aly's fingers touch the keys of the piano. I won't have those three minute rides to practice that serve as a time to catch up on life. Things will be different next year, but for now I must immerse myself in the beauty that is this year.

Three lives, but slowly they are all coming together. School is preparing me for Rwanda. Rwanda will teach me so much. I will be able to bring lessons back from Rwanda and bring aspects of a new culture into group. And group will once again change my life.

Missing You

No one laughs at God in a hospital.

No one laughs at God in a war.

No one's laughing at God

When they've lost all they've got

And they don't know what for.

No one laughs at God

On the day they realize that the last sight they'll ever see

Is a pair of hateful eyes.

No one's laughing at God

When they're saying their goodbyes.

(Regina Spektor, "Laughing With")

Five years ago she jumped and the world stopped. We all closed our eyes, took a deep breath and desperately hoped the nightmare would be over the second we opened our eyes again. When we finally had the courage to open our eyes all we saw was reality staring us in the face: she was gone. When I stare out my window every night at the Aurora Bridge I see a beautiful sight, but there is also fear. When I see lights flashing I pray to God that no one else has jumped. Please God, don't let anyone else feel the pain that so many have felt due to this sort of a death.

On May 6 of each year, I am reminded that life is fragile. I have a friend at a memorial service this weekend for his dear friend who died three years ago. She was young. Why is there death of the young? Whether by accident or a moment of hopelessness, the death of someone so young is unfair. Talking about it with friends who have faced similar things, we all notice the same thing. Good things do come of situations like this.

But is it really worth it?

Is it really worth the loss of life for a group of stupid 16 year olds to realize that we ought to be nicer to one another? I struggle with this logic, yet it seems the only explanation. It seems that we are all moving too fast. We are so caught up in our own worlds that the only way the world can get our attention is by yelling at us. My hope for my life is that I will learn how to stop. Look at the stars. Listen to my roommate. Walk to the store. Go out of my way. The world is too big to face alone...hold onto the love you have and never let go...not for anything in or out of this world.

Moments

Life is made up of moments. Some of them last only a second yet those are so often the most significant. A single tear that rolls down my cheek. A burst of laughter as loud as a big dog's bark. A touch of the hand. A scratch of the back. Eyes that meet. Warmth of the heart. The coldness of fear. There are feelings wrapped up in the midst of the everyday. There is more to life than the schedule that is kept.

I hear two alarms go off before my own. I never open my eyes because that would make me enter reality sooner than I would like. But I think of them in these half asleep moments and pray that they have good days.

The alarm goes off at 7am and the sun is already awake. I pour the yogurt and granola in the ceramic bowl homemade by two very loving hands. I think of her in this moment every single morning.

I grab the lime green nano puff as I head out the door. It's never the color I would have chosen, but it was a gift from him and I have grown to adore it. Every time I walk out the door I think of him in this moment.

The keys on the hook hold a keychain from South Africa. It is a continent that seems so very different and far away, but the moment I hold the keys in my hand I am reminded that I will be there soon.

I walk past the door of Demaray 356 and remember a day before I actually attended SPU when I took the SATs in that room. It is in this moment I remember there was a time before college and I realize how much I have changed.

I see two ducks sitting outside the SUB. This is not where they normally reside, but perhaps they are here in this moment to remind me of her. She is very special to me and I love her so much.

OMH is a dreadful place, but there will forever be her voice saying "Otto Miller 127" in my head. I think of her every moment I walk through the dark drafty hall of Otto Miller.

These are just moments from the day to day. To get started on the specific moments that have been significant would mean this blog post would go on for eternity. Because life is made up of a thousand tiny moments, each holding their own significance and meaning. It is in these tiny moments that we feel, that we learn and that we remember. Moments are beautiful things and it is here in this moment that I realize how blessed I am that I can look back on my moments in fondness. Each moment leads to the next and each one has a purpose. Sometimes they are painful, but they are somehow beautiful at the same time. It's funny the way God works through our pain to bring beauty. He truly does make beautiful things out of the dust.

Without a Voice

I've never broken a bone, never needed to wear glasses and have always been able to hear and speak. Goodness, I didn't realize how easy I have it. My voice began to give out on Friday night and by Sunday afternoon, it was gone completely. It was brutal not to wish people a Happy Easter on Saturday at the bakery as I forced myself to do dishes in the back all day. Not being able to sing at church on Sunday was awful. I broke down when I came home from church because I was unable to talk to anyone. Not the boys in the soundbooth, not the worship team, not the people handing me a scone. The adorable old couple next to me probably thought I was just an unfriendly college student who is afraid of senior citizens. None of these things are true. You are all so great! And I want to talk to you...but I can't. My voice is gone.

How selfish I feel when this is a huge problem in my life. Not being able to speak for two days...it could be worse. I could be this way for the rest of my life. I could have never spoken a word since the day I was born. I can handle a few days of this, but it is very irritating. There is now a constant fear of being misunderstood. No, I'm not telling secrets or passing notes under the professor's nose. I'm not ridiculously shy and I have plenty of things I want to say in class. What a blessing it is to speak. How important it is to watch what we say. I realize now how loud I really am--always yelling to my friends across campus and asking questions in class. I realize the power that words can hold, both good and bad. Perhaps silence is good for a time, but the return of my voice would be much appreciated in the next few days.

I have things to say. There are so many things I want to know that I was unable to ask today.

In UCOR (philosophy): If a sinner is one who openly rejects God, is the ultimate punishment really eternal separation from God? If they didn't want to be separated from God, they wouldn't have so blatantly rejected Him in the first place. Or would they?

In Political and Economic Development of Nations: How long does it take a barge to get from China to the United States? If they really tip over as often as you say they do, does that mean there's a whole lot of junk just sitting at the bottom of the Pacific? Are environmentalists concerned with that?

In History of Africa: If Europeans had never landed on African soil and the different chiefdoms continued to exist as they had always done, would Africa be considered impoverished the way it is today? They were not dissatisfied with their way of living...is it simply comparison to the West that made them realize they were not living life to its "greatest" standard?

In planning meeting: Too many questions...justice, evil, judgement, mercy, grace, hope...how do they all fit together?

Well, those are the thoughts that are running through my head and now you, the wonderful ten people who read my blog, are the only ones who know what is going on in my mind right now. Lucky you!