Travel Diaries #7: Entering a Different Land

Riding the train from Salzburg to Prague was the craziest train ride I took on this trip. Riding through Austria, there are quaint towns dotted along the countryside with the steeples of their churches pointing towards the sky. The houses are chalets that (usually, not on this trip though) are covered in snow in the winter. Everything is warm and inviting, as it should be...The Sound of Music was, after all, filmed here. As soon as we crossed the border, it was obvious that we weren't in Austria anymore. The train station was not shining with joyful Austrian faces awaiting the arrival of their loved ones. No, the station was an old broken down house surrounded by nothing but fields and standing on the platform was an old Czech man in a big fuzzy hat, a heavy coat and a bushy grey beard attached to a very serious face.

As day turned quickly into night, things just got crazier. The old, broken down train stations looked just as sad as ever and the man on the platform was now holding a lantern with a candle in it to guide the train in and send it on its way. Changing trains was something that terrified us, solely because of the name of the town where we had to change trains: Czeske Bodejovice. It didn't sound inviting and so far the train stations we had seen did not look inviting to tourists. Luckily, this town we'd never heard of was a little bigger than we thought and with the help of a Czech information desk through very broken English, we were on our way to Prague.

The car ride to our apartment made me feel like I was being tossed around in the waves of an ocean of uncertainty. We turned up one bumpy, cobble stoned street and made a sharp turn around another too narrow for most any car. It was a maze and I loved it. Every building was decorated with such detail and architects of long ago decided that intricate statues should be placed on every building, no matter how insignificant it is. The buildings all had giant doors, the night life was apparent and I was excited to be there.

The next two days, we wandered all over that city taking it all in from many of the different towers and bridges throughout the city. Looking out from a tall point, all you can see are red rooftops of buildings all crammed together and the streets are so narrow, you don't even see them from up high. The cathedrals look like castles and we quickly understood why they call it the City of Spires. Everywhere you look, something is pointing high in the sky in a foreboding manner. It's a beautiful city, but it has a very dark past.

We visited the Museum of Communism and for two hours I read about the rise and fall of Communism in Czechoslovakia. It was a Communist state until 1989. Here we stood, tourists in this city, only twenty years after such darkness had finally left their nation. Considering how little time it has been, this city is phenomenal. They have made quite the comeback, but it seems like it will be ages before that comeback will hit the outskirts that we rode the train through. I received more history of the country just in that train ride than I ever knew about the Czech Republic and that was just one tiny portion of it. That is why I have loved this trip. There's no way to fully understand the history of the world without seeing it and now that I have seen a little bit, I understand so much more than I ever did before.

Travel Diaries #6: Christmas in a Different Way

I've never been away from home at Christmas until this year. It was hard to be away from the familiar coziness of our house and traditions, but I find it hard to complain because I'm in the Alps in Austria. We celebrated Christmas Eve this year to finally satisfy Mom's request after thirty years (and because that's what they celebrate over here). Snitzchel was cooked, potatoes were fried to perfection, wine from France was poured and it was Christmas in Austria. I missed home very much, knowing that we wouldn't be able to go to our Christmas Eve service that has always been the same. For the fifteen years I've been at Bethany, there has been the same service which concludes with a room full of people lit solely by candles held in their hands and singing Silent Night together. And I have missed it.

But I didn't miss it entirely. We drove to the local church in Ramsau and sat in one of the 300 year old pews. The entire service was in German, but it was still beautiful to see the town gathered together on Christmas. To top it all off, we ended the service singing Silent Night in German, surrounded by a bunch of old, traditional Austrians. We left through the cemetery, each ancient grave marked with a Christmas wreath and a glowing red advent candle. What rich traditions this culture has and what an experience it has been learning about them.

Then, of course, there were less beautiful things that happened. Like eating at McDonald's for Christmas dinner in Salzburg. And saying good-bye to Noah for four months. But it's all these experiences that add something to life.

As I sat in a cathedral in Salzburg on the 25th for Vesper's, I lit a candle. I prayed for peace in the uncertainty of life. Jesus was born in completely uncertain times: through messages from angels about a virgin birth. He was born in a stable in the cold and life was far from easy. How phenomenal that such strange circumstances made way for the reign of Christ that would continue for 2000 years. Truly this Christmas has been a huge reminder of the reality of Christ's birth and the hope that we have in Him.

Merry Christmas!

Travel Diaries #5: Skiing, Take Four

The first time I went skiing was with my dad in the fifth grade. To say "with" him might not be entirely true. It was his idea to cure my cold, so we drove out to Snoqualamie Pass and he signed me up in a ski lesson, as teaching me was not something he was gifted at. The lesson was fine, though it made me nervous to be with other beginners significantly younger and better at skiing than myself. I learned about the pizza wedge and french fry positions and I made it down the mountain without any tears.

The second time was the following year with my mom. She was very patient and rode the green lift with me the whole day. All was well until the fluffy flakes turned into sharp pellets of icy rain. Soon, the joyous day of skiing became an afternoon of an icy cold face and tired limbs. That was the beginning of my dislike of skiing and I wouldn't go again until my junior year of high school.

That Christmas of 2006, the Dahlstroms decided that a trip to the cabin accompanied by skiing at Mt. Baker would be a fantastic way to spend the holidays. The cabin I was all for, but the skiing I was ambivalent towards. I was fitted for my boots and skiis and I got on the lift. It was unpleasant and I was fearful of breaking something. My life, starting in January, would consist of dancing in "Oklahoma!" and playing viola in the orchestra. To break or sprain any of my limbs would be tragic and this fear overtook my enjoyment of the sport. Then a vicious snowboarder plowed me into a snowbank and, after tears and a headache, my skiing was finished.

Now, three days ago, when presented with the option of skiing or saving 25 euro, I had to think about it. Then I asked myself, "When will you ever have the option of skiing in the Alps ever again?" Not to mention, I didn't want to think of the judgement I would receive at home when I revealed such a poor decision to my friends. So, I cluelessly went with my sister to rent some gear for my fourth try at skiing. Noah was the perfect teacher, we ate soup in a hut on the mountain and I ended with a smile on my face.

Though my bum hurts an awful lot now from falling 800 times, it was worth it because I can now say with pride that I, Holly Dahsltrom, have been skiing in the Alps.

Travel Diaries #4: Reunited at Last

I have never traveled for more than a few days without seeing a family member. Whether a sibling, a parent or grandparent, and aunt or an uncle...there's always someone to meet me along the way. I went to college three miles from my house and I see my whole family every Sunday, so to be away from them for ten days a was a big thing for me. To be together again was even better.

I waited and waited for Mom and Kristi's delayed flight from Amsterdam. When it finally arrived, those ten minutes from their arrival to the gate felt like an extra hour. Then I turned around and saw my beauitful sister skipping towards me with a huge jet-lagged smile. Mom gave me a hug and we were together again. All we needed now were Dad, who had been away for three weeks and Noah, who is disappearing for fourth months.

We made our way throught the confusing train/bus station and eventually piled into the overcrowded train from Munich to Salzburg. We had to stand in the entrance of the train for half of the trip, but it really didn't matter to me. All that mattered was that after a couple hours, we would all be together again. Kristi and I had fabulous conversations as Mom drifted in and out of sleep. Before we knew it, we stepped onto the snowy platform in Salzburg where Dad and Noah met us. We were together again...oh how I love them.

Travel Diaries #3: Long Trains for Old Friends

I set out on Wednesday on a 4 1/2 hour train ride that traveled halfway across southern Germany to Kempten. Waiting in Kempten were Timo and Lydia and their two little girls. Timo is a man who I met at a Canadian bible school when I was three. Lydia is his wife and Anja is their eight year old daughter who left Seattle when she was two. I didn't know Jennika, their five year old daughter, even existed until I saw her when I arrived. To me, this family was frozen in time until I got off the train and everything fast-forwarded six years. The same thing probably happened to them, too, and I think Timo was surprised when he saw a nineteen year old sitting at his dining room table.

For the first time in my life, I felt like an adult. Here I had purchased a train ticket, transfered trains in Ulm and ended up sitting with Lydia drinking gluhwein and talking about life and the way it changes. I am no longer a thirteen year old living in the shadow of my family, but I am a sophomore in college with a hope to change the world. I can discuss faith with integrity and I actually have an opinion about politics. How did this happen? How did I become old enough to travel alone and discuss things that are "only for grown-ups"? It's good, but a little bit unbelievable.

Visiting this family was a highlight of the trip and I'm glad I made the trek and coughed up the 35 euros. It's always a joy when I can be away from someone for so long and then meet again with the feeling that it hasn't been so long. There was nothing awkward about meeting up with them; it was a joyful reunion. It wasn't just a reunion, though, it was the realization that somewhere between moving into the dorms and flying to Munich, I have grown.

As I sat and played UNO with Anja, who I remember being born, I realized that I have grown into someone sot of resembling an adult. The girls asked me if I was a kid like them or a grown up like their parents. I told them I was in a strange place in between where I can still act like a kid, but am an adult when life calls for it. I like to be in this place of life. The place where playing hopscotch is acceptable, but it's also okay to stay up past 9:30.

All of this to say, after ten days on my own, I have seen a very good side of the ever dreaded "growing up."

Travel Diaries #2: On Home and Service

I hopped off the train in Basel and saw a red pea coat attached to a beaming smile come towards me. Jillian takes my bag as I say, "The ride was beautiful, now where the heck is the bathroom?" This is the beginning of journey #2: visiting and staying with Jillian in her tiny village of Holzen, Germany.

It is always fun to see my friends in their homes with their families. In highschool, I saw this all the time, but I hardly ever get to see this anymore. As soon as Jill and I walked out of the station, Jill's dad (who I've never met before) threw his arms all the way around me and my monstrous backpack and welcomes me to his home. This was very different from when I first met Jill, which was in the awkward setting of our first floor meeting and then again in the quiet of a classroom. Now, fifteen months later, I am staying with her family in Germany for two days. How things change...

The next day, I was able to go into Kandern, which is the city that houses Jill's high school. It's not a German high school, though, it's a missionary school. Kids who go to this school are here because their parents are serving a group of people who are elsewhere. Jill's dad is the principal of the school which means he is the one who makes it possible for all these kids to have a place to consider "home." At least for a little while.

I think being a missionary kid would be incredibly difficult. To follow your parents from place to place without much say and never settle down would be so hard for me. Yet these kids do it and then they settle at Black Forest Academy until it is time to move on. I am impressed by these students and also by their teachers. The teachers are wanderers, too, but that doesn't stop them from serving their students.

I asked Jill if it was hard for her to move to Germany from Arizona. She said it wasn't, it was just the next place. Talking to her about that made me wonder what my life would look like now if we had moved to England when I was eleven. All the things that happened to me which seemed significant started to happen in Jr. High. These never would have happened if we had moved. I guess that's the beauty of it; the point was to stay and I don't need to know what would have happened if we had left. It's always part of a greater plan, stay or go.

Travel Diaries #1: Of First Impressions and History

I am now sitting on a train that is going west along the southern countryside of Germany. There are tiny villages scattered across the hills, each clearly visible because the steeples of their churches stand higher than any of the surroundings. I have just spent two days with a German family that reminds me very much of my own. He is the director of a Bible school and she is his ever supportive wife who puts a smile on the face of every student when she walks in the room. Their kids are my age, love music and sports, and are friends with each other. The only difference between this family and my own? One less daughter. Oh yes, they also live in a city on the Bodensee called Friedrichshaffen.

I love the culture of Germany. Everywhere I have turned, the people are so kind. Meals go on forever and conversations even longer. These conversations range from family to Christ to past and to present. Before I left, Gaby and I walked along the shore of the Bodensee. She told me that the city is so different now from what it used to be. When she told me that, I began to view it all with a different eye. Just seventy years ago, the very shores that I walked were torn by war. The walls I see have been destroyed and mended. The hearts of the people here have faced much more than the people at home.

Now, as I sit on the train, my curiosity aches for stories. That old woman sitting across from me...was her husband in the war? That city right on the Rhein...was it always so picturesque, or did boats once bombard its colorful walls? It's amazing how fast it all can change.

Gaby told me that as wealth has become more prominent in Germany, she is losing the Germany she loves. The traditions and culture of her old Germany are disappearing as modernity approaches. It seems from here statement that wealth is not always the solution. It is not in wealth that we band together. We don't grow stronger by living in a perfect, rich world. It is in our weaknesses that we learn to truly live.

Over the Past Year, I Give Thanks

What a year it has been, since Thanksgiving last year. I could type for days, the list of things I am thankful for, but I will spare you. There are some things in particular that very clearly stand out to me. Above all, I thank God for tearing me away from the life that I had planned for myself. The life I had planned was one of emptiness and selfishness. The one that now lies before me is very uncertain, but certainly full of joy. I thank God for proving me wrong and pushing me into something new.

I am thankful for new opportunities. As I stepped away from my plans of acting on the stage, I walked right into a band. Ben, Ben, Nate, Kevin, Alex and Noah. I am so happy when I am with these ridiculous boys, the "misfits", as Ben called us the other day. We hang out once a week and make music together and they are dear friends. It's also a chance to ensure that I see my dear brother once a week.

I am thankful for being let down. When I didn't become an SMC (again, my own plan), it was very hard for me. But through that let-down, I joined group staff. Though group was not the perfect situation right off the bat, it has turned into one of the biggest blessings in my life. Scott, Scotty, Brian, Braden, Gabe, Bob, Mary, Aly, Kael, Cristina and Leanne. Oh my word, how I adore them. Their quirks, their hearts, their minds, their prayers, their hugs, their encouragement and their love. They're great and I now treasure those fifteen hours a week that I spend with them.

I am thankful for Fourth Hill. The summer before I went to SPU, it was just a room number. A year later, it was a place that shaped me into an entirely different person. It was a place that helped me to grow, to live differently and to love in a way I had never known. Em, Jill, Rachael, Lauren, Lara, Mary, Heather, Jamie, Becky, Bryn, Alyssa, Becky Jo, Sarah, Kristin, Beckah, Grace, Teylar, Alina, Caitlyn, Katherine, Leanne, Anna, Candice, Mary, Missy, Aly, Liz, Jessica, Rachel, Valerie, Emily, Ali, Krista, Jenna, Megan, Emma, Anna, Natalie, Nicole, Hannah, Dani and Jessica. Those girls, each and every one of them, have been a part of my life and I am so grateful to them. I am grateful to Teylar, for keeping us all together and I am grateful to that silly triple from Ashton-Jessica, Rachel and Valerie-for teaching me how to live.

I am thankful for the Ballard crew. Dan, Adrienne, Irene, Spencer, Erin and Daniel. No matter how many times I am too busy to hang out, I am always invited. They keep pushing and pulling and they'll never let me go and it makes me so glad. They, not too long ago, were a huge part of my life and I would hate for that to disappear entirely. I thank them for not being bitter when I could no longer be involved in the play that we were planning. I thank them for still loving me, even when I do things that should let them down.

I am thankful for those who aren't afraid to tell it like it is. Professor Wolfe: She taught me what love truly is and I realized that I wasn't truly loving. My closest friends: They keep me in check and they don't let me get away with things that are no good. Dr. Ediger: Though her class is ridiculously tough right now, the whole class has taught me to look at the world through much different eyes. My dad (also, my pastor): For teaching me that we live in a dark world and that we are the ones who are able to bring the light. Bob (group 08-09): It taught me to let go. To leave what I know and step into something new. Not only did it teach me that, it also gave me the strength and courage to do so.

I am thankful for those relationships that are hanging by a thread: They're still being held by that thread and, so long as the thread doesn't break, they will be easily mended in the days to come. For those that have broken, I will still search for the supplies and the strength to mend them. But I know I will be able to, I always am.

I am thankful for Kristi and Noah. My best friends in the world, I could ask for nothing more. I am thankful for the times I get to spend with them and the lives that we share with one another. They are the ones who keep me going and I love them so much.

I am thankful for my parents. The fact that I get to see them so often, even though I'm "away" at school. I thank them for the opportunities they bring into my life and the support they show, even though I have no idea what I'm doing.

I am thankful for the peaceful moments betwixt the madness. The moments when the sun hits the window just right. When the leaves fall like snow. When the sound of a piano is faintly heard above the murmur of friends. When the rain falls so fast that the world can barely handle it. When Anna and I lie in bed and all is said that needs to be said, even when no words are spoken. When the snow makes the world go slower.

I am thankful for the joyful moments in midst of sadness. When my arm is grabbed and I am dragged in the rain to go puddle jumping. When I laugh so hard I cry. When I can drop the books and go play hopscotch. When we get into our footie pajamas. When we can forget the world and school for just a second and pretend we are kids again.

It's a good life, a good year and for that, I give thanks. There is much to be thankful for and that is reason enough to celebrate Thanksgiving.

Oh Mother...

It's November in Seattle, and that means that my lips are chapped ALL THE TIME. This seemingly insignificant fact about my lips and the cold weather reminded me today of the love of my mother. I walked into her office after work, she took one look at me and she smothered my face in chapstick. Oh, mother, how I love you. This is something you do to your eight your old daughter, but you did it to me and I appreciated it so much. It reminded me of the fact that, even though I'm in college and feel old, I'm not. Not really. I'm still your daughter and definitely not ready to face the world alone. Thanks for the reminder Mom, I can't wait to be home.

Retreat!

There are twelve of us on group staff and we are one big happy family. Bob, Mary, Gabe, Aly, Brian, Braden, Scott, Scotty, Kael, Cristina, Leanne and myself. Each of us was chosen with our own talent, whether musical or artistic or having a great theological mind, and we each bring those gifts to the table to create a service on Wednesday nights. About fifteen hours a week go into one group service and at the time it is so exhausting. But every Wednesday night, after all the speakers, mic stands and backdrops are put away, we gather and are thankful for the service that happened. We are grateful for the positive responses that we receive from our peers who take time out of their busy lives to worship with us for an hour each Wednesday nights. It's been almost a quarter and group has finally become something regular in my schedule and it's no longer a huge time commitment. I mean, it is, but it's not. Not really. Yes, it's still fifteen hours a week, but it doesn't feel like it anymore. Now, I am so full of joy to be with that staff and they are such a huge part of my life.


There wasn't group last week, so we didn't get to see each other and there was a huge hole in my life. I was worried that I would really like the idea of having free time and that I would once again question my role on group staff. But the free time wasn't all I dreamed it would be. Yes, it was a little nice, but I really didn't like it. Watching Friends with my friends is nice, but it's not how I want to spend all of my Mondays and Tuesdays. When we finally all got together on Wednesday night to have dinner together, it was like we had been apart for a year. We sat in Kael's living room for hours and watched the wind whip the rain so that it fell horizontally instead of vertically. We ate soup and drank tea and shared about our weeks. We are able to talk to each other so meaningfully and intentionally and there is no shame. We aren't afraid to talk to each other about how we're really feeling and that is not a vibe I have felt in past groups I have worked with.


This last weekend, we went on retreat...if you can even call it that. We've decided it was more like a giant sleepover. We left SPU at 7 PM on Friday night and I was back in my room by 3 o clock the next day. But in those twenty hours, so much life was shared. So much laughter. Deep fried food. Birthday cake. Music. Games. French toast. Stars. Campfire smoke. JOY. I haven't felt as happy as I did on Friday night in such a long time. When I returned on Saturday, my heart was full of life like it was last fall. This is the point of a retreat, but I've never felt like this after one. Retreats are supposed to be an escape, a chance to get away from the troubles of the norm. That's exactly what this retreat was: Twenty beautiful hours to be with the ones I love and not be bogged down with papers and projects and a general feeling of weariness.


We are all tired right now and it shows. We're all much quieter than usual and fun-n-games are much less frequent than they once were. I'm not just speaking of group staff, I'm talking about all of us. The students of SPU are weary. Our souls are tired, our sinuses are stuffed up and our hearts are aching to be home. Even I am homesick. Home is so close, but right now, it has never felt further away. I can't imagine how any of my friends are coping right now, especially those who really can't go home, even if they wanted to. It's only three more days, I say, but they're long days. Full of class, study groups, work and practices. I'm excited to think of how I will feel once these three days pass and I can be in the warmth (well, in reality the dorms are warmer, but I'm talking about the heart) of my home surrounded by my family. Like I said, home has never felt so far, but I'm sure that it will never feel so good to go home as it will this week.


I think that our sleepover is what has given me enough strength to last three days and I am glad. It was a wonderful time and now I will be able to finish this race without running out of breath. By the power of God, the encouragement of friends and Sufjan Stevens' banjo, I will make it through these days.

On Cocoa and Windstorms

This week has been relaxing, yet so busy all at the same time. The days seem to drag by and it is increasingly difficult for me to roll out of bed in the mornings. But there are things each day that keep me going. Like the peace of knowing that when I get into bed at night, Anna will be in her bunk above me and we can talk about our days. Or the fact that I can make a cup of hot chocolate and stare out the window as the wind blows away the final spots of orange and red off the trees. I am able to sit on our uncomfortable couch and feel the cocoa slither down my throat and not be swept away by the blustery day. These moments with cocoa and windstorms mirror my feelings about school right now.

Things have piled up and I've got more to do in the next two weeks than I have all quarter. But four of those days will be spent at home with relaxation and the company of good friends. I got a terrible grade on a biology exam, but I also got an A on an essay in Christian Scriptures. Things are never all bad and I am grateful for that. God has a way of mixing the cocoa with the windstorms and letting me remain in peace. Even when things feel like they're all going terribly, there are constantly reassurances that they're not. At work yesterday, there were moments when I just wanted to be in bed, but by the end of my shift, we were eating brie cheese on a giant flat of focaccia bread...now what could possibly be bad about that?

There is also no group service tonight, so I have mysteriously had fifteen extra hours of free time and I've been able to spend time with friends. They are wonderful friends who are sometimes frustrated with the fact that I am gone so often, but they are still encouraging and bear with me when I drive them crazy. It has been a joy the past three days to be able to sit in our room and laugh and do homework and simply be together. No, it's not much, but it's so beautiful to be in their company and I have learned this week not to take it for granted.

This post was nothing big, but I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks to God for bringing good with the bad and not leaving me in the dark. Thanks to the winter weather for keeping me cozied up inside. And thanks to my friends for loving me, even when life gets us all down.

An Attempt at Poetry (Take One)

I am distracted right now

with thoughts and dreams

of peaceful days.

I beg for a moment

to sit and to rest

on the shoulder of a friend.

I want worries behind me

and joy right in front of me

but it doesn't work that way.

I must swim through the bad

to wade through the good

and rest in a pool of peace.

I know the time will come

when I will look back

and smile, but right now

I stare out the window

and I count down the days

until Thanksgiving arrives.

I beg for the days

surrounded by family

and laughter and love.

I want those four days

without papers or books

full of leftover turkey.

I can almost taste it now

and soon it will be here,

but for now I will work.

I will re-write twelve pages

read a chapter or two

and go to bed late.

I am in college

and this is what we do.

Don't worry, it'll be fine.

It will be just fine.

Yes

Yes, God, You were right. You always are; I don't know why this time was such a surprise compared to the last time. And the time before that. And before that...

Tonight, everything was made clear to me. Why I didn't get SMC, why Ben asked me to be in his band, why I ended up on the stage on Wednesday nights and not in the mass of students, why I didn't get into a play, why I ended up on Fourth Hill, why I went to Costa Rica. All of these things which were strange reality checks to me in the past now make perfect sense to me. There is a purpose in every path of life and, though so often difficult to see, so many paths were made clear tonight. This year has been a whirlwind of events and meetings and classes and it has been a huge struggle to find peace in the midst of it all. I have constantly been wondering why I am where I am and even though there are moments when it all makes sense, overall, Autumn Quarter 2009 has been one big confusing mass.

Let me explain to you why it all makes sense now. Each event along the way seemed so insignificant and tonight I saw the purpose in it all. I only played on about half of the songs at group, so I was able to stand with the masses and worship for about fifteen minutes and they were an amazing fifteen minutes. In those moments, I looked on the stage and listened to the band play and then I looked around the room and I saw other people from group staff worshipping, praying over the city, taking communion and washing the feet of their roommates. It was beautiful to see the deep impact that group has on students in their lives and relationships with each other and with Christ. So, when I played on the last few songs, I looked out and saw hundreds of people worshipping and growing together. This is why I am here.

Seeing those deeply concentrated faces, some mournful, some joyful and some simply at peace, I realized something huge. This is God is working through me. God is using me to spread his love to hundreds of people each week through the simple task of playing an instrument. How selfish it was of me to not see this before. It was selfish of me to say that I wasn't "getting anything" out of group. That's not the point, how foolish to think it was. God's work in our lives is meant to challenge us, not let us grow in faith without even trying. When I didn't get SMC, I was surprised, but my reaction was that there must be something else in store. Something more fitting for where I am and where God plans to meet me. That something was group and it has shaped into something beautiful. Challenging? Yes, it is one of the hardest things I have had to do. Worth it? Yes, a million times over. Yes.

A year ago, I would have looked at my life and told you these few things about myself:

• I'm a freshman at SPU.
• I believe in God, but I haven't seen Him work many wonders in my life.
• I'm a theatre major.
• Yes, that's a violin and the other one's a viola, but I don't play them very often.
• Was SPU my first choice? Not really, but it was the cheapest option for me, so...here I am.
• I'm in college because that's what you're supposed to do.
• I live on Fourth Hill, it's alright.

Now, I look at my life and I see how drastically it has changed. I'm a sophomore and God has turned my life in a direction I never would have come up with on my own. I never had a strong urge to try out for a play, so my theatrical endeavors faded away. I'm a global development studies major with a hope to change the world. Those instruments sitting in the corner? They're brought out of hiding and played for about ten hours a week. It's true that I only came to SPU because it was cheap, but my God, I am so glad that I'm here. I'm here for so much more than I ever intended and God is using me in ways I never would have imagined. And Fourth Hill...where do I even begin with Fourth Hill?

Fourth Hill 2008-2009 was the biggest blessing in my whole life and it has shaped who I am right now. This is where I met women who challenged me to step outside of my comfort zone, to explore my passions and see where they might take me. These are the women who got me to play my instruments again, to tap dance, to think about the world as oppose to the small world that I live in, to read my Bible and meditate on it, to try out for group and the biggest lesson of all: to love. Teylar Greer, Rachel Smith, Aly Quatier, Lara Musser, Becky Jo Tuell, Anna Barton, Jessica Marshall, Alina Sayre, Jillian Leavitt, Rachael Cherryhomes, Valerie Moser. These are the women who changed me, prayed for me and supported me through a year full of change.

As my dear friend Stephanie just told me, "God puts us in places not to be touched by His love, but to touch others with His love." Last year, I was touched by His love and the call this year is to share that love with everyone around me. With the girls on my floor, the students at group, my staff, my professors, my friends, SPU, Seattle, the world. The world goes on forever and so does God's love. It is our job as Christians to be sure that His unending love will spread far and wide to all the forgotten corners of the world. That is what I have learned and that is why I am right here right now.

Personal Reflection: Holly Dahlstrom (group viola & violin)

When we sat down last Monday night to discuss John 12-15, so many different parts stood out to me. There are verses that applied to the disciples 2000 years ago and those same verses apply to our lives here, today, at Seattle Pacific. In John 13:7, Jesus tells Simon Peter, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” This constantly rings true in my own life. I never see at the time the work that God is doing in my life, but once it is finished, I understand. When Jesus was washing the feet of the disciples, they didn’t understand, but it was later made clear.

Jesus washing their feet is one of the most beautiful pictures in the Bible. Here He is, the Son of God, and he is stooping to the lowest task of washing the feet of his own disciples. Just like entering Jerusalem on a donkey, this was another act of humility. Our challenge at group is to do the same thing, to be humble and tear down the walls of pride that so often separate us from those close to us. Jesus came to the level of the disciples and he was honest with them. There is a harsh transition when He explains that He is about to leave them. The whole book of John has been building up to Jesus’ triumphal entry and that dramatic build up ends when Jesus says in 13:33 “My children, I will be with you only a little longer.”

I can’t imagine what it would have felt like to hear those words from the mouth of Jesus. But Jesus explains quite clearly that His death will result in something better. He explains the hope they are able to find in him. He is, once again, expressed as light in the darkness and the disciples are told to “put their trust in the light while they have it, so they may be sons of light.” Above all else, we are called to love. If only one thing comes out of Wednesday night, it is my hope that we will understand how important it is to love. Love is how we are able to go on each day and we are commanded specifically to love. John 15:17 “This is my command: LOVE EACH OTHER.”

--Holly Dahlstrom

Ecclesiastes, You've Done it Again

What a week it's been. Moments of laughter. Moments of tears. Joy. Heartache. Late nights. Early mornings. Saying too much. Saying nothing at all. Fear. Confidence. Stress. Peace. Where does the up and down end? I ask this to myself everyday and everyday, I hear the answer I don't want to hear: It doesn't end. And then one day, I heard a different answer: Ecclesiastes.

It's The Byrds song and it's the word of God. A Time for Everything.

There is a time for everything

and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain,

a time to search and a time to give up,

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,

a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and a time for peace.

-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

The Israelites once felt the same thing I did. They also felt lost and these were the words they heard. The whole book of Ecclesiastes is very somber because the premise is that "everything is meaningless," but I find immense hope in little places.

When times are good, be happy;

but when times are bad, consider:

God has made the one

as well as the other.

-Ecclesiastes 6:14

God created the good, but He also created the bad. He made the world in a perfect balance, so that we can brace ourselves for reality, but we can also see the hope that we find in the Lord. We see hope in the fact that each day is a new day.

The sun rises and the sun sets,

and hurries back to where it rises.

-Ecclesiastes 1:5

It's a scientific fact with a poetic twist. "The sun rises and the sun sets." Fact. "Hurries back to where it rises." Poetry. To me, it's 13 words that help me get up every morning. God created day and created night and I think it's important to see the freshness in every new day. If we let the sorrows of yesterday seep into the realities of our today, how will we ever move forward?

Do not say, "Why were the old days better than these?"

For it is not wise to ask such questions.

-Ecclesiastes 7:10

I must stop comparing this year to last year. This a new year and I need to get used to it and stop dwelling on the way things were. Was last year a beautiful thing? Yes, it was. It was the biggest year of my life, but this year can be just as big. I must move on with an attitude that says, "I will live and I will love." Above all things, I must love. Christ has shown me so much love and it is my job to spread that love. To live each day with love in my heart for the people who surround me every moment of every day.

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for men than to be happy and do good while they live.

-Ecclesiastes 3:11-12

Late at Night

Late last night (or this morning, you could say) I was working on my homework for UFDN 2000: Christian Scriptures.  It was long and tedious and then I got to number 5: Write a lament.  Writing is what I can do well, here is my lament:

My God, my God, where are you?

Why have you left me?

I search for you,

Yet I cannot find you.

 

I cry out to you by day

And I cry out to you at night,

Yet I never hear an answer

And I am lost.

 

You have called me toward You,

And then you run away.

I try to catch up to You,

But you are faster than I can run.

 

You disappear into the distance

And I wonder.

Will I ever see your face again?

Will I ever be in your embrace?

 

Lord, come back.

I will listen this time.

I will walk in Your path.

I will follow you step by step.

 

I will live my life for You.

I will leave the life I know

And enter the life

That you have planned for me.

 

God, you have returned in the past

Please return again.

I have fallen before

But you always catch me.

 

You know the stars by name.

You make the day.

You make the night.

The world is in Your hands.

 

Father, You are beautiful.

You are a light in a dark place

And you hold us in Your arms.

The future is in Your hands

 

And You will save us.

A New Life

This year was supposed to be perfect. It is not. Student leadership was supposed to be the answer. It is not. Fourth Hill was supposed to be the answer. It is not. What is it, then? This year is shaping up to be so much harder than I pictured it being, desperately searching for the good in the bad and having difficulty finding it. As I walk to class dodging puddles and running to catch the light, I never stop and look around. When I never stop and look around, how am I ever going to find out the answer to life's great unanswered question: Why am I here?

I am now in the middle of week four of a quarter that has lasted a lifetime. Classes are harder, relationships are struggling to spring up and grow, and time is running away from me. At group last week, the world fell on me like a pile of sloppy wet leaves: my mind covered with confusion that I can't seem to shake off. Where, in the midst of the madness, do I stop searching for the answer and wait for the answer to come to me? Last Wednesday, I stood in front of 600 people and led them in a song with these lyrics:

So I'll stand, with arms high and heart abandoned,

in awe of the one who gave it all.

So I'll stand, my soul Lord to you surrendered,

all I am is Yours.

These were some of the words that turned my life in a different direction, away from everything that is comfortable and into a world unknown.  A change of major, a change of passion and a change of heart. Now that I find myself in this new world, it's not as great as I hoped it would be. On Wednesday night, I didn't want to lead my peers into the same direction I had been led. But why? Why wouldn't I want to lead them into a world that is new and a world that is...better? 

Over the past week, I have found the good in the bad. I found the beauty in the leaves that are every different shade they could possibly be. I found the importance of being alone. Of being with God. Of placing all my worries, my fears and my anxieties in the hands of God. For He, after all, knows where I'm heading, all it takes is for me to be willing to follow. I must give all I am to God and He will shape me in the way He intends. 

After this grand realization, my life became 500 times better and I couldn't stop smiling last night at group. 

I once was lost, but now am found.

Was blind, but now I see.

Never had those words held so much meaning. I was lost, but now I am found. I suppose that sometimes it takes hitting rock bottom to realize how lost we truly are. And once you're at the bottom, it's easy to be lifted up out of your total weakness. So, through the prayers of many friends and the reading of much scripture, I am now flying high above the worries that were consuming me. And life goes on...

I have beautiful relationships with the men and women of Fourth Hill surrounding me. Group staff is a group of 13 people, each of whom is so different from the next, but is also such a joy to be around. And as for me personally, life is new. God has given me a second chance for the fiftieth time and for that, I am grateful.

So what can I say, what can I do?

But offer this heart O God, completely to You.

I am in His arms and He will carry me out of the uncertainty into a world better than I can imagine. That world will be full of its own set of challenges, but the Lord will never let go of me, no matter how hard I try to shake Him off. Thank You, God, for loving me.

A Creed for the Discouraged

I received this yesterday after a session at SPU.  It helped me, now let it help you.

I believe God created me to be happy, to enjoy the blessings of life, to be useful to my fellow beings and to be an honor to my country.  I believe that the trials which beset me today are but tests by which my character is strengthened, enabled, and made worthy to enjoy the higher things of life which I believe are in store for me.  I believe that my soul is too grand to be crushed by defeat; I will rise above it.  I believe that I am the architect of my own fate; therefore, I will be master of circumstances and surroundings, not their slave.  I will not yield to discouragements; I will trample them underfoot and make them serve as stepping stones to success.  I will conquer my obstacles and turn them into opportunities.  My failures of today will help to guide me on to victory on the morrow.  Tomorrow will bring new strength, new hopes, and new beginnings.  I will be ready to meet it with a brave heart, a calm mind, and an undaunted spirit.  In all things I will do my best and leave the rest to the Infinite.  I will not waste my mental energies by useless worry.  I will learn to dominate my restless thoughts and look on the bright side of things.  I will face the world bravely; I will not be a coward.  I will assert my God-given birthright for I am immortal, and nothing can overcome me.

Pause

I stopped for a moment.  It was a moment that fell in between the chaos, the many minutes of walking, the hours of reading, and the immense amount of time spent with group staff.  I ate a quick lunch in Gwinn and ran back to Hill Hall through the rain that is becoming once again familiar.  Now, I have half an hour to take off my shoes and breathe before I finish the second half of my day which will finish this hectic week.  I wonder: will every week be like this?  Weeks filled with school, work, practices, meetings and just barely enough time to sleep, let alone breathe.  I hope to God that not every week will be so hard, but I also know that if they are, God will continually provide me with moments like this.  Moments to watch the rain fall and the leaves change to vibrant orange, red and yellow.  

This week has been, to put it lightly, full.  I feel like I have been running to classes and meals, jumping from a room full of friends to a room full of classmates who are stuck in a gen ed.  I know it will be okay, though.  I have a roommate who can handle my stress much better than I can, a floor full of amazing women and professors who are entirely passionate about what they are teaching.  So, even though I go to bed at midnight and get up at 7am everyday, I am so thankful that I have things to look forward to in my days that start so early.  It's another year, another way of life, that's what I keep telling myself.  And I do believe it, though it will take some time to get used to.  

This weekend I will spend with old friends and new friends and somehow in the midst of it memorize all the countries and capitols of Africa.  I'm happy, though, truly I am.  No, not about 8 am and not about a schedule that is packed to the brim, but I am happy about the relationships that are forming already and the relationships that are growing immensely.  I am also blessed beyond belief to be living with Anna Barton.  She keeps me happy, makes sure I get enough sleep and hugs me all the time.  I am back in the world that changed my life last year and it will be exciting to see how it all unfolds this year.

It's a new room, a new major and new responsibilities...all of which are FABULOUS.    Thank you, Anna, for the love and support.  Thank you SPU, for the adventure that you have in store for this year.  Thank You, God, for the rain and the beauty it forced me to pause and enjoy.  Happy Friday.  One week down: nine to go...

It Began Before It Was Over

I woke up on Sunday morning disoriented.  I wasn't in my room at home surrounded by all the usual comforts I have come to know so well.  Instead, I was surrounded by partially unpacked boxes, cluttered surfaces and those heavenly XL twin jersey sheets.  How did I get here? How did summer end so fast and is school really starting in 8 days?  At times this summer, it felt as though it would never end, that I would never see my friends ever again and that the much anticipated 09-10 school year would never come, but now that it's here, I feel overwhelmed.  Round two is a whole different feeling than round one.  Last year, my boxes were packed a week before I needed to move.  I was ready to go to school and move onto something new.  This year, though, after a hastened trip to Disneyland, I packed in one day and moved the next.  I haven't had a moment to stop and realize that it's all starting over again, even though it feels like last year just ended.  

Saturday night, a group of old friends sat in my room as I unpacked and we talked for hours.  These were friends who a year ago, I didn't know existed and now they were sitting in my room having theological discussions.  It was a sign of growth.  Growth in my own life, but growth in all our lives as a whole.  Sophomore year will be something entirely new for all of us in different ways.  For me, it's a new major, a new roommate, a new appreciation and dedication to music.  For others, it's a new floor, a new position or a new school.  The point is, we're all in the same boat: Freshmen, sophomores, students, faculty...it doesn't matter.  We're all facing a new year, a new set of challenges and a new dynamic across the campus.  Do I fear this?  Yes, I'm terrified, but I am so excited to see where this year will take me and those around me.

I spent the weekend at a leadership conference with all the student leaders for this year.  I didn't realize that being on a worship team considered me to be an official "student leader" with roles and responsibility to the campus.  When I figured this out, my heart leapt a little, realizing that God has called me to something significantly bigger than I had assumed.  And when approached with the question "Why am I here?" I had to think about it for a long time.  I am on group staff because I wanted to be an SMC and didn't get it, so I had to choose the next best thing.  I thought to myself "what a dumb reason" but then found out it wasn't just me.  And then I realized that group isn't "the next best thing," it's a perfect fit.  

I am on group staff to lead worship and to grow.  To grow in my relationship with Christ and to deepen the relationships with the people around me.  Part of me is very sad that I won't be close to every single girl on my floor this year, but that is the reality of the matter and I'm starting to grasp it.  The girls will still know me and I will still know them, but it just won't be the same creation of deep relationships as last year was.  And that's okay, every sophomore faces a situation like this every year and when the freshman become sophomores, they will understand.  

None of us know what the world will look like by the end of this year.  Perhaps it will be drastically different or perhaps the only thing that will change is the kind of espresso we drink in the morning.  That's what's exciting to me.  None of us know and that's the beauty of it...the world is wide open to us! We can go anywhere and do anything and only time will tell where we'll end up.  

Now I sit here on my couch staring out the window at the beautiful view of the trees that are already changing colors.  I hear not the whir of the coffee grinder, but that of plant services making sure the lawns are freshly manicured for Freshman Orientation.  A week from now, I'll be at work after a full Monday of classes and will steam another pitcher of milk wondering what awaits me this year.  I know it will be full of stress, lack of sleep and frustration.  I also know that it will be full of love, music, friendship and beauty.  And those surpass all else.

  

90 Years of Love and Life

My Grandma Nadine turns 90 tomorrow. To even comprehend living for another 71 years is too much to handle for me. How many experiences, how many people, how many days fill those years. We threw her a party to celebrate her 90th Birthday and 80 people showed up. Old friends, new friends, children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, nieces, nephews, cousins, nurses, co-workers. All of these people were people that she had impacted at some point or another in her life and they all made their way out to Fresno, CA on their labor day weekend just to celebrate her. When my dad asked me if I wanted to say something, I wasn't sure I did. How could I put all that I felt about Grandma and all the stories into one thirty second speech? She's meant a lot to me, that Grandma Nadine. So what story was I to tell? I couldn't pick one, all that I felt I could share was about love. The love that she had for everyone in her life from the beginning until now.

I remember that she was always looking out for me and my siblings growing up, making sure that we were good and spoiled, like every grandma does. There were always chocolate bunnies sent at Easter and chocolate Santas sent at Christmas. There was always a white dish on her coffee table filled with peanut m&ms. She sent money for school clothes and birthday gifts. She always brought a suitcase full of cinnamon bread when she flew to Seattle and we would eat grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner and toast for breakfast. This was her language of love. But as she has grown much older, that love language hasn't stayed entirely the same. Now, it is her turn to receive love. All her life, she has been caring for each person around her, whether by giving them a meal or a ride to church, she has constantly put others before herself.

She has faced hardship after hardship, yet she never let it bring her down. I went through old photo albums and saw love and joy in each one of those photographs. She was living a life full of fun and friends, just like I am having right now, but she had no idea the years that would follow. The loss of a child, a sister, her parents, her husband, another child and another sister. How, in the face of so much loss, can a woman remain so strong? Her love of Christ remained strong, even when His love seemed gone. It is amazing to me that, after all she faced, she still managed to touch so many lives and love so much. It is so easy to harden your heart when life turns in a downward direction, but she moved forward and she continued strong. That is a lesson to be learned from Grandma Nadine. And I will take advice from a 90 year old, they have seen more than I could ever imagine.

It was beautiful to see how appreciative everyone was of her. My siblings and I went through all of her cards with her and read them aloud to her. She knew each and every one of those people so well and when they said "Thanks for all the fun memories" she would start listing off those memories. These are real relationships and it makes me wonder who I will still be friends with when I reach an older age. Are we putting the time and effort into our relationships to make them last? I sure hope so, but if we're not, we should start. If we want to know the love and faith and joy that Grandma Nadine knows, we need to stop taking for granted all that we have. We need to learn to live in a deep love that is only found through Christ.

I Do

At SPU we have this little motto.  It goes like this:

RING BY SPRING.

It's pretty self-explanatory.  The couples who are 20 get engaged and get married.  I personally find it to be a horrible and unnatural thing, but that's just me.  There was an exception on Monday, the 17th of August, though.

Ben Rowe and Hannah Balenda decided to tie the knot.  Age 19 and 20 and they decided to get married.  Their engagement and wedding was one of the most beautiful ones I had ever seen, though, and it took me a long time to figure out why.  Why were they so special? Why wasn't this wedding so frighteningly young and fast like all the other SPU engagements?  

They simply aren't average people.  They're artsy, counter cultural kids and they are best friends.  I got to know the two of them much better over the course of their engagement and I realized that their love was based on a very deep friendship.  They had dated since high school and half of that was long distance.  If high schoolers can make a long distance relationship last, they must be doing something right.  Listening to Ben tell me about why he loves Hannah, I realized how perfect they are for each other and how this marriage is so right and not frightening.  And listening to Hannah's side of the story was beautiful as well.  She met him during the one year she moved away from Seattle to Texas and they kept their relationship strong when she moved back out here.  God works in mysterious ways, even down in Texas, I suppose.  They are such a beautiful couple and their wedding was a beautiful affair.    

Ben and Hannah and a very small number of their closest friends and family paraded down to a public beach north of Seattle.  Their were blankets and driftwood laid out as our seating for the ceremony and we all sat as Ben and Hannah proceeded with a short, traditional ceremony.  The sun was setting behind them and it cast a beautiful glow upon their faces that were already lit up by their happiness.  There was not a wedding party or a flower girl or a choir.  All they needed were their friends and family watching as they took a step into a huge new part of their lives.  The parents gave their blessing, they exchanged their vows and rings and then they became Ben and Hannah Rowe.  It was simple and it was all about them and their love for one another.  

At the reception, we played a song that Ben wrote specifically for his wedding.  There was art displayed on the walls that their friends had made.  The carrot cake was made by Ben's brother. There was a movie that Ben and Hannah made describing the story behind their wedding invitation.  And everyone was sitting at tables, eating ice-cream and hanging out.  When I sat down next to Ben and asked if he was happy, his response was "I feel so at peace right now. I feel great." And when I asked Hannah the same question, she simply said, "This is exactly what we wanted it to be. I'm really happy"  

So, as they enter this new stage in their lives, they now know that we are all with them each step of the way.  Their love for each other will continue to grow and their relationships with their friends and family will deepen.  That's what a wedding should be about.  Not DJs, dance halls or a three course dinner, but about the relationships that are growing and being nurtured by love.  

Of Beatles and Downpours and Dancing Shoes

The summer is proving difficult to find things to write about, but here be a post from long ago.  Enjoy!

Fourth Hill.  That's where I found out I was living last July and I didn't know what to think.  Hooray for Hill Hall, who cares what floor it was?  Little did I know that the floor is what would bring me so much joy in my freshman year of college.  Forty three girls live on my floor in twenty one rooms.  They're all arranged in unique ways, each filled with different things and different styles to fit different personalities.  At times, it feels like we couldn't be any more unique.  We have all grown up in different towns and attended different schools and we all ended up here, and I am so glad we did.  There have been so many times in the last week that I was so grateful to be on Fourth Hill and I want to share them with you.

Last week, I invited the whole floor over to my house.  I also invited the brother floor.  There were fifty of us crammed into our tiny Seattle home and we all sat there, eating and talking.  We could've sat there for hours if we hadn't felt so squished, but we needed to get out.  We went to the park and played ultimate frisbee.  There we were by Greenlake, my brothers and sisters of Fourth Hill all tossing a frisbee around with my dad and I was so proud to be his daughter.  To them, he is a pastor and a sometimes distant figure.  But here they were, hanging out with him and seeing him in his truest form.  That of a father, a mentor and simply a great man.  Soon after we started, the rain began to pour down, but we didn't care.  They had been in Seattle long enough to know that rain is something you should count on and they were no longer afraid of getting wet.  

We continued the game, not caring about the wet and we were having a marvelous time.  My favorite part was that my team was being DESTROYED by the other team.  When the score was finally "a lot to two" the other team decided to trade some of their teammates, but we would have none of that:

"These are our friends."

"We like our team just the way it is."

"We don't need your pity."

"Let's just keep playing, we're having a good time."

Those were our comebacks and the game continued while the rain continued to pour down on us, mixed with patches of sunshine.  It's spring quarter and we are going to make the best of it.

A few days later, I was sitting in my room as the sunshine poured in.  A few other girls joined me and we were sitting there for I don't know how long.  We put on the Beatles and sang along and we were just lying in my bed like a big pile of puppies.  The music played as a backdrop for our conversations and encouragement for this last month of school.  This, to me, was a picture of the biggest lesson I have learned this year: To pause for just a moment in your day and enjoy the people who surround you.  Enjoy the atmosphere of the place you are in and take a moment to be thankful for it.  Not very many college students are blessed with such a community and I feel so lucky.  This occurred just a few days before a beautiful evening full of food, friends and fun.

The Hill Hall Ball was a night I will never forget.  Essentially, it is the prom for the dorm, but significantly less awkward and much more fun.  The girls got all dressed up in old formal dresses and asked each other to do their hair and make-up while the boys...well, who knows what boys do when they get ready for such an event.  All I know is that when Fourth Hill showed up in the Hill Hall Lounge for our potluck dinner, I was just so happy to be among them.  I cannot even express how much they all mean to me, each and every one of them.  We made vats of spaghetti with sides of waffles smothered in Nutella.  A strange potluck, yes, but it is also a very strange floor.  We gathered around the huge table and talked and laughed and then had ourselves a little photo shoot.  We only look this good once a year, so we had to make the best of it.

After the photos were taken, we all crammed into tiny cars and headed to the ball, ready to dance and eat our "free" desserts.  The DJ set up his record player and then it all began.  A big mass of Hill Hall dancing to Paper Planes and the Cha Cha Slide.  It was no high school prom, it was one billion times more amazing.  There is no where else in the world I could have danced like such a fool and not be mocked in an enormous way.  I watched as my dear friend Anna put her cheek next to Ben's during the slow songs and I fluttered around the dance floor, making sure to see everyone.  We danced the night away until it all ended with a slow dance to Frank Sinatra singing "Fly Me to the Moon" as my friend Anthony twirled me around the floor.  It was a majestic evening and made me ever so thankful to be a part of this Hill Hall world.  

What a week it has been, one I will never forget.  Thank you, Fourth Hill, for being such a huge part of these beautiful memories. 

Some Things I Will Never Forget

There have been many moments this year that will never slip from my memory.  Beautiful and sometimes ridiculous moments with wonderful friends and lessons learned.    A lovely year, full of lovely times.  Let me share them with you:

1. Going to Fred Meyer at midnight my first night at school and breaking a bunch of vases.

2. Skipping orientation to watch Stranger than Fiction with Craig and Emily. 

3. Doing (unbeknownst to me) The Thizzle Dance with Liz in front of all the residents.

4. Driving to Deception Pass instead of Camp Casey.

5. Lying under the stars in a big field with Jessica and realizing the blessing that SPU was going to be for me.

6. Getting my face cut up by the blackberry bushes and calling myself Scarface the rest of the weekend.

7. Mattress Dominoes!

8. The day I wanted to be with an old friend and Allison Pringle miraculously appeared.

9. Listening outside my window to Brian Hibbard and half of Hill Hall worshiping in the main lounge on a random Tuesday night.

10. Teylar Greer.

11. Praying on the first day of class.

12. Floor dinners.

13. The last day of Fall Quarter when I bought Thai Food and sat and watched the wind blow outside my window.

14. The snowy Sunday at Bethany.

15. A white Christmas.

16. The fuzzy hats that Noah bought all of us for Christmas.

17. New Year's in Fresno.

18. Driving in the snow...it is not an easy thing to do.

19.  Snow on the first day back after Christmas.

20. Learning how to play the ukulele.

21. Playing music with Anna.

22. 4th Hill Christmas Morning, complete with Santa and cinnamon rolls.

23. group.

24. Inauguration day!

25. Teaching tap dancing to many girls on my floor and one boy from Ashton in the Hill Hall Lobby.

26. Tetris addicts turned into Oregon Trail fun.

27. Listening to all the different people playing piano in the lounge and, by the end of the year, knowing who they all were by their own style of playing.

28. Old-Fashioned Fridays.

29. Watching the snow fall on three different Thursday mornings with Teylar.

30. Teachings from Suzanne Wolfe:

• You are valuable to God simply because you exist.
• God works through us in a fallen world, it is grace through nature.
• True ugliness is ugliness of heart...the inability to love.
• Grace is frightening because it asks us to go from the place where we're comfortable to another place...it's meant to save us, but it instead terrifies us.
• If we give something, we give everything. If we give everything, we give nothing.
• Moments of pain and sin come with a purpose and GRACE
• Love means laying down your life.

31. A terrible class that led the way to a beautiful friendship (Jillian and I became friends during UFND).

32. Dahlstroms in Disneyland!

33. Applying for (and being rejected for) SMC.

34. The realization that my faith grew exponentially when I was entirely okay with not getting that position.

35. Deciding that theatre is no longer my life and changing my major to Global Development Studies.

36. Our band, Friends & Family.  Late night practices, the Q-Cafe show and savory crepes.

37. Hill Hall Ball...so many memories.  Fly Me to the Moon, Paper Planes and All the Single Ladies.

38. Ben and Anna...how exactly did that happen?

39. Late nights of talking with Aly.

40. Tucking in Krista and Ali Morgan.

41. Smallgroup picnic.

42. Quelf bringing me to tears.

43. Fourth Hill Talent Show.

44. Holly Pocket, Hollipop, and Mamma Holly.

45. Watching Life Size with the brothers.

46. Breakfast: Tator tots with Anthony, watermelon thieves and those Monday/Wednesday/Fridays with the lovely ladies of Fourth Hill.

47. Roomies with Chris Hanson.

48. Fourth Hill...the bro flo.  How I love them all... 

49. Seeing Hello Dolly with Paul.

50. My last night in the dorms: staying up until 4 in the morning with Megan and Anna.  Remembering what a year it has been and being so thankful.

It has been quite the year and I am constantly amazed by the blessing it has been for me.  I will never forget my Freshman year at SPU and I can only hope that next year will be just as wonderful!

One Fourth Finished

In the blink of an eye, my first year at SPU was over.  The room was arranged to its original state, I had turned in my fifteenth paper for Playscript Analysis and I had one last bowl of honey nut Cheerios for dinner in Gwinn.  Time had done something strange in the last week.  On Tuesday, I went to my high school's graduation and it felt like a decade ago that I walked onto the same platform to receive my diploma.  Then, on Friday, I dusted off the shelves, turned in my key and wondered where the year went.  The same time period was so slow, yet so fast at the same time.  I learned so much in a short nine months and I am in awe of the blessings that have been poured into my life over the past year.  Here is what I have learned:

1. In the great words of While You Were Sleeping, "Life doesn't always turn out the way you expect."

I often feel like I cam to SPU for all the wrong reasons.  It was in Seattle.  I got a tuition discount.  These aren't the right reasons for choosing a school, but it turned out better than I ever could have imagined.  I moved in on September 25th and by September 28th, I was already calling it home.  I was worried about entering a closed off Christian world, but that is not what SPU is.  It is a community that encourages its students to go out into the world and share Christ's love in whatever form suits them.  In art, music, science, English, and education.  It is not a community for Christians to hide, it is a community where Christians can grow.  

2. Nothing is required in college.

College is a place to make your own decisions, whether they are good or bad.  It is one step on the road to being "in the real world."  On the first day of orientation, I slept in and watched a movie instead of going to a workshop.  No, I'll never know what they taught that day, but I don't feel like I missed out on much.  I also skipped class one day to catch up, but that made me fall even farther behind.  It works both ways, but when you enter college, each decision is your own and so is each consequence.  The point is, what you get out of college is the same amount as what you put into it.

3. "Engaging the culture and changing the world" isn't such a bad idea.

My cynicism began before I even applied to SPU.  In my mind, I vowed that if I got another brochure that said "Engage the culture, change the world," I would not apply.  Unfortunately, it is on just about every envelope, letterhead and webpage, so there's no escaping it.  Eventually, you have to say, "If you can't beat them, JOIN THEM!"  So, I did.  I changed my major from Theatre Education to Global Development Studies.  I gave up on becoming an actress, lost the urge to become a teacher and instead decided I want to work in non-profits that make a difference all over the world.  In SPU's over-used words, they change the world.

4. More often than not, God has different plans for us.

What those plans are, though, is often very hard to figure out.  This year, I often felt "called" to one thing, but then God said, "no."  When I applied to be a Student Ministry Coordinator, I was told by many that I was a "shoe-in" for the position and I secretly felt the same way.  We were wrong and I had a sick feeling in my stomach that screamed "What now?"  My bible practically opened itself to show the words of Psalm 13: "How long, O Lord?  Will you forget me forever?  How long will you hide your face from me?..Look on me and answer, O Lord my God...But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation.  I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me."  I couldn't fight with words like that, so I searched for a new opportunity and, after yet another long application process, found on in the form of group staff.  I will now be spending Wednesday nights playing violin on the worship team.  It is a better fit than SMC and, like always, God was right.

5. Love is what binds us all together.

I have never seen as much love as I have in the last nine months.  And I've seen a lot of love in my life, so that's saying something.  The girls who lived on my floor this year were all so full of love for one another and for the world around them.  The relationships that have been formed are so strong and deep, even though they are so short.  The love that teachers show for their students is incredible and so unique for a college setting.  My dear friend Anna is constantly mentioning how we, as Christians, are called to love.   This is why we love: We love one another so that we may show God's love.  If nothing else, that is our purpose here on earth.  God is love and we are meant to share that love with one another.  Being at SPU, that love was made clear to me every day in the community I was living, learning and growing in.  Love is a beautiful thing and it is what brought us all so close to one another this year.

"No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us." -1 John 4:12

It was an excellent year and I still can't believe it's already over.  I've learned and grown so much this year, I can't imagine doing it all again.  But I will.  There's a whole summer to recuperate and then I can only hope that I'll do it all over again.  That I'll be able to learn and grow as much next year as I did this year.  As Tevye said in Fiddler on the Roof: "Then we will leave it (the future) in His hands."  And that is what I will do, I will leave my questions about the future in His hands and I will continue to live and learn and grow.

A Good Weekend

Joy.  

That is all this weekend has been, one moment after another.  I have been surrounded by love and friends and the constant realization that this year has just been one huge blessing.  The weekend began at 2:40 on Friday when the movie in chemistry ended and we were all allowed to leave the darkness of Demaray 150.  When we entered the sunshine, Anna and I grabbed a blanket, some cards and some boys and headed up to Hill Hall Beach to soak up the sun.  We just sat there for two hours, listening to music and spending time together.  I sat there until I got a call from my beautiful sister and a few minutes later she appeared with crepe batter.  

We stood in the little kitchen in the main lounge and made a feast for ourselves.  The scent of the crepes in the frying pan filled the lounge and made everyone jealous who walked by, which resulted in our offering the crepes to anyone who so desired.  This is my sister: a stunning woman who shares love (and crepes) with everyone around her, even when life is so tiring.  Our sister-sister relationship has grown into a beautiful friendship and I am so blessed to have her in my life.  We went on from the crepes to Ingraham High School to see their production of Thoroughly Modern Millie, which was a joy to watch.  It was also a joy to see her and how she has put a mark on the lives of so many teachers and students their.  I love her so very much!

Saturday was another sunny day, busy and full of fun.  It began bright and early at the SPU Leadership Kickoff.  It was three hours full of the ice-breakers and team building games that I so often mock, but it was a really great time.  I have found my place for next year playing violin and viola on the worship team for next year.  It was a decision I rallied with for quite some time before finally deciding it was the right thing to do, but I know this is the right decision.  God has lead my life into directions I never thought it would go this year and I know this is yet another place where I can learn so much.  Saturday morning was a time of reassurance that I've done the right thing and I am so excited for the family that our staff will become.

Right after that, I went on to work, relatively uneventful, but still a good time.  The flower shop is in Fremont, "an artist's community" as my grandma calls it.  Not many customers, but I love seeing the difference in them.  Some buying a card in a rush between the wedding ceremony and the wedding reception.  Others ordering flower arrangements for anniversaries.  Grandmas buying gifts to spoil their newborn grandbabies.  A father buying a bouquet for his daughter, starring in "Oliver!"  Once all the purchases had been made, the floor had been mopped, the trash had been taken out, the planters had been taken in and the register had been put in order, I locked the door and hopped on my bike to head back to campus.

Waiting at campus was an evening composed of a ridiculous tradition called "Roomies."  The idea is that you set your roommate up with a date and everyone goes out for some sort of activity.  We all gathered in the lobby and shoved each other in the direction of our date for the evening.  I was pushed into a boy with red hair who plays the bass in a rock band and is 6'7".  Good work, Anna!  We jumped in to cars and ended up in a park in Magnolia that looks out over Seattle, the city which has been home for most of my life, but to nearly everyone else here, it is a newfound home.  We played games, roasted s'mores and enjoyed the love that flows between everyone on our floor.  So, as we played four square into the sunset and watched the moonrise, I realized what a joy it has been to be a part of Fourth Hill.  We're such a mismatched hodgpodge of people and it has been so much fun watching the way we all get along.  

When we got back to school, we stood in the parking lot for a ridiculous amount of time deciding what to do next...

"It's Saturday night, we can't just stay in!"

"Pizza!"

"I don't want to spend money, I'm poor and in college."

"Wendy's!"

"Fine."

Off we went to get the fast food that defines America.  It's delicious and we came back and enjoyed it under the stars.  Five of us all laid in the grass watching for shooting stars and talking about life for two hours.  People I didn't know existed nine months ago and I am still constantly learning new things about them.  It was a beautiful time and I won't ever forget it, as I leaned against a friend's shoulder and shared about my transition to SPU and the great blessing it has been.

We all turned in around 1:30 as we realized we had to get up in a few short hours for church.  What a school, SPU.  Sunday brought sunshine and the Hill Hall Beach Bash.  The Beach is what we call the big grassy area behind Hill Hall and it has been the place I have spent many hours not studying this quarter.  Today, it has been transformed into a huge party, complete with volleyball, barbecues and a slip and slide.  It's an unusual college that can make an entire afternoon of fun out of a steep hill, some dish soap, tarps and a hose.  It was such a good time and just topped off a beautiful weekend.  

It's nearly summer and we will have fun like this without homework lurking in the back of our minds, but what was special about this weekend was that we were all together.  Hill Hall has been my home for 9 months and I won't every forget it how beautiful they were.  We are a family and I can't wait for next year, when we'll all be together again for Round 2.  I love you, Hill Hall!