International

I'm not entirely sure how it happened, but I now have friends who live all over the world. Some are friends from SPU who have decided to burst from its Queen Anne walls and live out the motto continually engrained in our minds: engage the culture. Others are Upward Bound students that I met in Austria this summer. A few are old family friends who have tucked themselves quietly into that beautiful corner of the world called Germany. And here I am, in Seattle, with hopes and dreams that span the globe. It's finals week and I think that this week, more than any, makes me want to do nothing more than travel. Experience. Live.

I have been studying Economic Geography, International Peace and World Order, and Global and Urban Ministries this quarter. Though I mentally checked out of these classes a few weeks ago, my heart is still very much in my studies. I want to dissolve the disparity in the world, I want the victims of war to be healed and I want to know the stories of those who need to tell them. It is hard to concentrate on my research papers when all I want to do is get out of the classroom and into the world. I need to keep reminding myself that these four years in school are just the final stepping stone and then I need to keep reminding myself that's probably not true.

Is there really ever a final stepping stone? First we are born, then there is elementary school, middle school and high school. We are encouraged to attend college and told that after that, we enter the "real" world. Is the real world that the adults tell me about really all that different from what I am experiencing now? I work in an office with adults and I work at a bakery with people who are not in school...is this really the real world? Why is it that our educational status separates us from the real world? I am living a very real life right now and I think I am already in the real world. It is a world where the things that I study in class are out of that days' New York Times and where I read articles on the racialization of the Seattle Public School that I attended. These issues are real and they stab me in the heart every day. So why do I want to study something that seems so full of despair?

Because there is HOPE.

We don't read these depressing articles on the state of our world for nothing. We read them to learn from them and to give a meager attempt at solving them. We see the small, but significant, things we can do to help. If Philip Eaton really wants us to engage the culture and change the world, we have to get out and see (what is sometimes the sad) truth that is our world. It will not be like this forever. No, of this I am confident. There will be a day that all will be well and history will be a fading memory. Until then, I will continue to learn and implement the small amounts of change that I myself am capable of.

Swinging Freedom

The other day I was walking up to Queen Anne to visit a friend and I decided to take a detour through the park. The day was sunny, the leaves were crunchy and the trees were calling me in. I had just been to chapel and was trying to sort out the things I had just heard, so I thought as I walked. And then I saw the swings and decided to take a seat. I just sat there swaying back and forth, thanking the Lord for this day. Although I'm now a junior in college-which continues to be a tough thing to believe-not so deep down, I'm just a kid. I like the simplicity that comes with being a child. I like the friendliness and the warmth associated with a care free life. As I've gotten older, I have found myself on swing sets several times as I struggle to understand why some things unfold the way they do. On walks home from school, on late night adventures out of the dorms and on this day. I see the abandoned swing sets and I know that as soon as I sit myself down, the troubles will slowly begin to melt away. So, as I sat on the swing on this brisk Tuesday in particular, everything in the world made a little more sense. The people in my life seemed a little more special. And the fact that I am where I am was turned into a huge blessing. I'm sure the swings will continue to call me to that childlike freedom as life continues and I am thankful for that.

A Haiku for You

Tears of joy stream down

as a friendship once broken

is mended with love.

A Thousand Splendid Friends

I had plans...many plans. Did any of them happen? Well, no, not really. There were art projects to create, chores to complete and a paper to write. But when I came home from my run, a short conversation turned into a long one and a homemade pizza turned into a beautiful evening. It's always nice the way life turns out when our moments of madness are put on hold and we can just breathe.

It was a long week due to a test that consumed my mind with 104 terms to study and 31 essay prompts to prepare. Then, immediately following the test I had two and a half days to complete a ten page research paper. I was supposed to go on group retreat on Friday night and half of Saturday, but I opted out in order to write my paper. Confession: I haven't started to work on my paper. But I have found a whole lot of beauty and rest in these past few hours and it has rejuvenated my soul.

Becky Jo and I started cooking our pizza at 7, so by the time we finally sat down to eat, it was about 7:30 and the lights of our dear beloved city were sparkling across the water. We lit all of the candles in our living room and put on some Sigur Ros. We then prayed for our meal and dug in. We dug into the pizza and we also dug into our pasts-remembering the days of freshman year that feel so long ago. How did we end up here? We pondered that question for a while and realized that the answer was hiding from us. Why can't we pinpoint the moment our friendships begin? Because the closest relationships of all just happen naturally. They're the ones you don't force and the ones you don't strive for. True, I meet people and think, "wow, I really want to be their friend." And I am their friend, but not really. There are the friends who I pour my heart into and there are others who I watch a movie with once in a while.

My friendships in college are funny because there is a universal understanding of "Let's hang out. Except we can't because we both know we're too busy." Is this bad? Being too busy for my own friends? The reality is I can't be friends with everybody. We were joking about Becky Jo having a thousand friends the other day and then we realized that surely, throughout the course of our lives, we have known a thousand different people. To keep up all of those relationships is impossible. So, we constantly end up going through that painful process of saying "yes" to some and "no" to others. There is hurt along the way, but in the end they move on and so do we. And hopefully we are able to realize that the moment of our life that was spent in relationship was very significant at the time.

I came into this year thinking it would be easier because there wouldn't be a floor full of forty girls that I wanted to be friends with, but it hasn't been all that easy. There are times when I just beg for an extra hour in the day or day in the week. All I want is a night of the week to spend in rest with my friends. And here it is: Friday night, paper writing plans and a pizza to put a stop to them. I thank God for this pizza, for this night and for the lovely girl I was able to share it with. It is hours like these that make me realize I have it so good. True, there are hard things, but if the hardest thing I have to do is skip a retreat to write a paper, I think my worries are pretty low. And I can thank the good Lord for that.

Two French Rolls

Home: A place where something flourishes, is most typically found, or from which it originates.

Something that has been itching at my heart recently is homelessness. I am very fortunate at this moment in my life to be surrounded by many different homes. There is my parent's home. There is Upper Gwinn. There is Schladming. There is Nielsen's. There is The Nest. These are the places that I am filled up, that I can be myself and that I go to and from. To not have a place to call home is heartbreaking. Even more bluntly, to not have a roof over your head is just plain cold. In this rainy city alone, there are over 6000 homeless people. That means that every day, there are 6000 people walking around Seattle, unsure of themselves and unsure of what to do.

There are the skeptics who say that these people need to learn to be self sufficient. There are those who say that they will use my money to buy drugs and ruin their lives. But here is the reality: RIGHT NOW, THEY ARE HUNGRY AND THEY ARE COLD. When I walk down the street and I'm afraid to make eye contact with a beggar, what does that say about me? It makes me feel selfish. But my heart is rapidly changing. Just a couple of weeks ago, here is what happened to me:

I am walking to the bus after work and I have a bag full of leftover french rolls in my backpack. When I see a man standing on the corner asking for money and I watch dozens of people speed by him, my heart breaks. It's raining and this man is hungry and every person who walks by him says they have nothing to give him. That's not true. Surely you, with the shoes in your Nordstrom bag, surely you have something to give. Or you, man with a briefcase that no doubt has a laptop in it, you must have something to give.

But not me. No, I'm in college, I have nothing to give. STOP IT. I don't have loans, I have two jobs, I own a computer and a cell phone and a violin. I can go to concerts and see musicals whenever I want to. If my shoes get a hole in them, I can buy a new pair that fits. I have so much. So what is it that stops me from giving to this man? It has been the constant stream of "advice" from society that tells me this man deserves to be standing on this street corner. No he doesn't--nobody does.

I'm ashamed to say that I too speed by this man. And then all of those thoughts I just shared with you speed through my head. I CAN give to this man. He doesn't deserve to be on the streets right now, but he is. He didn't do anything wrong, but he is treated like he has. And he is hungry. I turn around and I look him in the eyes--he has beautiful eyes--and they light up. "I just got off work," I tell him, "and I have a bunch of leftover rolls. Would you like some?" I pull out the bag of rolls and it was as though he was looking at gold. I open the bag and he looks at me with a questioning glance. "Go ahead," I tell him as I push the bag toward him. He plunges his hand into the bag and takes one. "You can have more than that," I tell him and he takes another. "These will go nicely with dinner once I get some," he says.

What faith. He knows that dinner will come. He doesn't know how or who from, but he somehow knows he will eat. Perhaps it was these rolls that gave him hope or maybe he met someone earlier who gave him hope. The point is, it didn't take much. Two french rolls...though free for me, they normally only cost thirty-five cents. Who doesn't have that? Please, I beg you, GIVE. It doesn't take much. No, it barely takes anything. In this country where living "in poverty" is having a salary below $12,000, I know you can spare thirty-five cents for a roll or twenty cents for a banana. Stop getting bogged down with the details of the history of the person standing in front of you. Look them in the eyes and see that they are a person, just like you, and they are hungry. Go. Feed them.

Beautiful Things

All this pain. I wonder if I'll ever find my way. I wonder if my life could really change at all. All this earth. Could all that is lost ever be found? Could a garden come up from this ground at all?

You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of the dust. You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of us.

All around, hope is springing up from this old ground. Out of chaos, life is being found in You.

You make me new, You are making me new.

Gungor, Beautiful Things

I took this picture in Austria on one of my toughest days. It was raining and my stomach had never felt worse. There we were, trudging through the wet earth, and then I saw these flowers. I continually noticed flowers like this in Austria-these flowers that grew out of the rocks. Flowers are such delicate wonders, so it is amazing to me that they can thrive in the rocks.

This quarter, we are studying the book of Genesis. I have been reading what has always felt like the same Sunday school story, but with a very critical eye. I have been noticing so many different aspects of the story deep beneath the surface of the simple words on the page. I studied Genesis two years ago when I came to SPU as a freshman, but it didn't have so much meaning to me then. Now, after two very life changing years and a summer spent in creation, the first book of the Bible and I have grown very close to one another. My biggest realization is that this faith is so simple, but it is also so complex.

Reading Genesis 1, I was so full of inexpressible joy at the concept that God created a beautiful and flawless world just for us. I reflected on my time in the mountains and how perfect creation is. And then we got to Genesis 2...also known as: The part where we screwed it all up.

I can't really wrap around my head the idea of a flawless world because it is not something I have ever known. I imagine it as the moments of beauty I experience every day, but that's all there is. A flawless world is a beautiful thing and when I read that Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, I can't help but cry out in agony. Why? Why would they ruin something so perfect? I can't help but wonder if it broke God's heart the day that sin entered His perfect world.

This realization came at a perfect time for me. A week ago, I heard terrible news from a friend...a story of complete brokenness. She told me her story and I wept as I realized that so much of my life is based on trust and when that trust is broken, all I want to do is start over. That's when these song lyrics came into my life: YOU MAKE ME NEW. Out of brokenness, Christ brings healing. Out of darkness, Christ brings light. Out of dust, Christ brings life.

God intended for us to live lives of love and joy, not lives full of fear. The story of the tree in the garden should not be one full of heartache, but one full of redemption and grace. The Christian faith is based on a story of hope and hope is something I can give my whole heart to. God has made me stronger this week. He has given me the courage to hand over what weighs me down and that is how I am able to continue living a life full of joy in the midst of grief.

The Nest

“Home, let me go home. Home is wherever I’m with you. Let me go home. Home is whenever I’m with you.”

Five girls, one home. Five little birdies in one beautiful nest. I quite like this new place to call home. It’s not a home I would have predicted for myself, neither the people nor the home itself, but it is a wonderful place. We’ve all been here for two weeks now and it has already brought with it moments of laughter and moments of sorrow. That’s the point of this home really. We are all busy girls, in and out all day long, but we want to support one another the best we can. Here is who we are:

Valerie: “You’re the only senior in the house? That makes you like the mom, right?” No, not exactly. Yes, she’s the one who tells the landlord who’s boss and she also set up our internet, but we don’t want to have a sole person in charge. She’s our whimsical fairy princess of a friend. She flits in and out giving love to anyone in her path.

Rachael: Our first nursing major. Also, the kindest person in the whole wide world. I remember once this summer, someone asked me the question, “Who is the most beautiful person you know?” I chose Chomes (that’s our nickname for her). She’s beautiful on the outside, yes, but she also has the biggest heart of anyone I know. She fears hurting people and she desires love in all areas of her life. She also has a laugh that will light up a room.

Kate: Our second nursing major. A tall goof ball with a smile that shines bright. When she discovered she was living in a house full of student leaders, her response was, “Good, you can all lead me!” Bold and bright, she has a confidence about her that I admire so very much. She also happens to be the perfect height for hugging, which is fortunate for me.

Becky Jo: What a priceless treasure is my dear sweet Becky Jo. She’s 5’10” and 100% full of heart. That’s a lot of heart…five more inches than I have. I adore coming home at night and seeing a stream of light pouring out from the crack of her bedroom door because I know it means I can walk in and plop myself on her bed to talk about life. She somehow makes time for everyone in her life and still manages to bake cookies for us, too.

Me: A tap dancing, viola playing scholar who wants to change the world. I rip my hair out because I sign up for classes that make my brain hurt and then I make my way to one of two band practices. I love to cook breakfast food and drink sweet orange tea. I also like to wake up early and watch the sunrise from our balcony as I read Rilke’s Book of Hours.

So, there we are. Five crazy girls who somehow managed to find each other in the midst of a dizzying spring quarter. I’m excited for what the year might hold. Already I foresee many sleepless nights, cups of morning tea, art projects instead of homework and milk and cookies. I see a bustling kitchen and hundreds of tealights being burnt until the very end. I see tears of fear and frustration, but with them hugs and encouragement to warm the soul. Most of all, I see love. That’s the point. It’s not just about living in a house and splitting the rent five ways. Living in this house, so aptly called The Nest, is a big blessing. I’m excited to see how all of our crazy lives will intertwine this year and how we will be able to support each other with the little that we have. For it is in the little that we have that we can create so much love for one another.