Me, My Sister and Rosie

I love music. Anyone who knows me knows that music is a part of my being and the way that I live and breathe. Music is my art. It is a way that I make friends. It is how I pour out my emotions. It is what hypes me up and what calms me down. We are all more keen of one sense over another. For some, they could not live without sight and for others, they could not live without smell. But me, life without sound would be awful. Life without sound means life without music and life without music means a life that is not quite right.

Tonight I went to a concert at SPU featuring two bands that I've gotten to know over the last year, one I had never heard of and the headlining act was a woman named Rosie Thomas. I knew nothing about this famous Rosie Thomas other than the fact that she has played music with Sufjan Stevens. Now, because Sufjan is one of my favorite musicians, I decided that I would go to this concert. The opening act was a group of three girls from SPU who I first heard in February at the homecoming talent show. Their music is beautiful, the lyrics lovely and the harmonies perfect. The second band is SPU's hot kids on campus with their clever rock music, wonderful voices and charming personalities. The third was wonderful as well and I was glad to hear them, but Rosie is the one who hit my right in the heart.

Kristi met me there to hear Rosie and I was glad to have her by my side. This concert, to us, was not just listening to some beautiful Rosie Thomas songs along with her hilarious stories, but it was also a time to cry together. At first, there were no tears except from laughing so hard, but soon we were both weeping in each others' arms. All of her songs seemed to be about leaving home. About loving home. About uncertainty. About all of the things Kristi is struggling with. I am struggling with them too, just in a different way.

"In a little while I'll feel better

Gonna travel around the world

Gonna see it all"

Those few words are the story of our lives as the children of parents who were wonderers. We want to wander too. It's harder, though, to wander when they've finally settled. Noah just got back from four months in Austria. I'm going to Austria for six weeks this summer. Kristi is moving to Germany for two years. How can I be without my sister for two years? A lot will happen in those two years. I'll hopefully be an intern working with refugees. I'll graduate from college. I'll turn 21. All these things I desperately wish she could be close by for, but she is being called elsewhere and I can't fight with that. I practically pushed her out the door anyways.

I sometimes wonder what I was thinking when I met the principle of the school she'll be teaching at and telling him I've got a sister who's a teacher. What possessed me to list all of her wonderful traits as a person and as a teacher? Even more so, why did I say to her, "Kristi, you've got to go there. It's beautiful and those kids need you." I guess it was love. I know that she has an adventurous heart and I know that this adventure fit with that heart. I know that she will be a missionary to the missionary kids she'll be teaching. She is going to be the reason that the kids' parents are able to be missionaries.

No, I don't want her to leave for so long. Yet I am continually convincing her that it's the right thing to do and that God will provide enough financial support for her to go. I love her and that's why I don't want her to be gone. It's also the reason I want her to go.

So, as Rosie played songs about a heart of adventure and leaving home, Kristi just lay on my shoulder and her tears dripped onto my arm. I hugged her as my tears dripped onto her. Tears of sadness, tears of uncertainty, tears of thankfulness.

"I have much farther to go

Everything is new and so unpredictable

I should just kick my heels together and go home

But I'm not sure where that is anymore"

Home will always be home, but for the rest of our lives, we'll always be running around living our lives of adventure. No, I have no idea what the future holds, but that's all part of the adventure. And I am thankful that the doors to home are always open.