Spring is Coming, I Can Feel It

I am sitting here at my desk, yet again.  I often find myself here at my desk when I should be cleaning my room.  I also often find myself cleaning my room, when I should be here at my desk.  That's just the way life is for me at SPU...constantly distracting myself with the endless variety of other things to do.  I look out my window and I see students slowly trickling their way back to the dorms after their finals.  Some are going back to bed.  Others are going to study for more finals because for some, the finals never seem to end.  And then there are the ones like me, who should be packing and getting ready to head out, but find themselves endlessly distracted.  We're all so close to Spring Break, but it feels as though it will never come.

It's been "so close" for weeks now, can't it just be here now?  Our lives for the past few weeks have been like the tree that is right outside my window.  We're the blossoms on the end of the branches, waiting so desperately for the cold of winter to die down.

I became acquainted with the tree on move in day, which was six months ago.  How did time fly so fast when it was full of times like these, where each day drags out as long as possible?  On move in day, the tree had big green leaves on it and I was nearly too busy to even notice.  As the quarter went on, the tree began to lose its leaves as we began to lose sight of high school and adjust to the wonderful new college life set out before us.  When the tree's leaves were completely gone, I was able to look into the main lounge and watch certain someones play the baby grand.  I left the tree for Christmas while its branches were bare and all I could see was its sturdy trunk.

When I returned after an exceptionally long and snowy Christmas break, the tree was still there, looking just like it did when I left it.  I woke up four times over the quarter to a tree covered in sticky white snow, some days were fluffier than others.  Those mornings were always so quiet because I was up at 8:00 on a Tuesday or Thursday (unheard of in college!).  I would walk across the deserted campus shivering, wishing that I could watch the snow with a cup of cocoa in my hands, wrapped in a blanket.  The snow would be gone by 9:30, though, so I never would have had these precious, quiet mornings, had it not been for my 8:30 class.  It was a good class, but I am most thankful for these four peaceful mornings that the 8:30 hour provided me with.

When mid-terms surprisingly hit us, I looked out the window and saw green popping out of the branches.  New life had appeared overnight and it was beautiful.  Later on in the quarter, my crazy English teacher taught us all a valuable lesson about winter and the transition into spring.  She couldn't help, but notice the green on the trees outside the windows of Demaray 356, so she shared with us her views on the matter.  "Winter is a long hard journey," she said, "BUT YOU KEEP GOING!"  And now look outside the window and look at the new life exploding out of all the trees.  They were quite encouraging words during our exceptionally long winter quarter.  Now, every bird that chirps and every flower that blooms reminds me of her lectures on love and peace and perseverance.  My last quote from Suzanne Wolfe:

"You can sit on your ass for A THOUSAND YEARS wishing for wings and never get there.  OR you can get up and put one foot in front of the other, go for as long as it takes and eventually you'll get there."

She's right, all it takes is the courage to put one foot in front of the other.  This quarter, that required getting up when the alarm went off and heading to the classes I didn't want to be in.  It required taking time out of my busy days to simply rest, to sit, to listen to God.  It required praying about the questions I had and waiting patiently for the answers.  Answers which led me to have difficult, yet necessary conversations.  Answers which led me to tears at some points and laughter at others, but which ultimately led to the peace of mind I so desired. 

Now there are tiny pink buds nestled in between the bright green leaves.  They have been there for the last two weeks which have also been the busiest and most stressful two weeks of my life.  I just wanted the trees to blossom and show me spring, but they have thought otherwise.  Slowly, more buds come each day, but no blossoms.  The buds, just like God, have been telling me to wait.  It's not spring yet, spring will come when it is time.  You can't rush nature, no matter how much you desire to.  So, here I sit, staring at the hot pink buds, imagining what they are going to look like.  Of course, once I leave today for Disneyland, I will forget about the tree.  I will be in the warm weather of California with my family, what more could I ask for?

The tree will probably blossom while I am away, but I have come to accept that fact.  I will return to a new quarter and a new outlook on life.  No more winter blues, instead the hope and freshness of spring! 

Cookies For Thought

Middle of the quarter.  Middle of the week.  Middle of the day.  This was the time I found myself in a few weeks ago and I never find the middle a nice place to be.  It feels melancholy and everyone has a tired feeling about himself.  I left work at about 4 o’clock and began walking up the steps that feel so much longer in the middle of the day.  I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my pea coat to shelter them from the dry, cold February air.  I found a delightful surprise in that pocket: My last heart shaped cookie from my dear friend, Holly Roe. 

I pulled the cookie out of its bag and took a bite of the delicious cookie covered in a delectable frosting.  This is a familiar taste, for these cookies have been at every big event for the last ten years.  Valentine’s Days, Christmas tea parties, my high school graduation, sweet sixteen’s, Oscar parties, every single birthday.  Whatever the event, the cookies are always there and I love them.  So, when I grudgingly made my way up the steps to my dorm, I suddenly forgot the melancholy of the day when I found this wonderful cookie in my pocket.  Memories began to fly into my brain of all those different events where the cookies were present, as well as many friends.

My first memory of the cookies (I’m sure they existed before, but this is my first recollection) is at Paula’s tenth birthday party.  We all got dressed up that year in our nicest dresses and piled into a limo to go an adventure all around the city.  Halfway through the adventure, we arrived at Carey Park and piled out of the limo.  We ran to the stone wall that protects onlookers from falling into an endless cliff of blackberry bushes and we sat down.  Soon, there was a plate of sugar cookies in front of me, all the numbers 1 and 0: ten years of life for the lovely Paula Roe.  I bit into that cookie and I had never tasted anything more delicious in my entire life.  It was time for seconds.  And thirds!  The cookies were scrumptious!

Since then, these cookies have appeared everywhere in all different shapes.  Hearts, Stars, 13, 16, 50, 2002, and most recently 2008.  Parties to celebrate performances, birthdays, graduations and even those that celebrate nothing at all, just the joy of being together.  I was so excited when that particular plate of cookies arrived at my graduation party.  This was what I was waiting for so many years: The cookies would be sitting on a table decorated with graduation paraphernalia for 2008.  And there they were, some strange sort of final step found in a plate of cookies.

I know that I love food, but I never thought that a simple cookie recipe would have so much of an impact on my life and stir up so many memories.  On this particularly long Wednesday, though, it was an absolutely wonderful reminder of the love that Holly Roe has shown to me and so many others through the years.  So, thank you for the cookies and for the friendly reminder of the love that we should all be sharing with the world. 

Notes on Love

I am taking a class this quarter called "Faith and Literature."  If you know me at all, you would know that there is no way that I would actually choose to take a literature class, but I ended up in this one because I couldn't get into any of the other classes I wanted to take.  My backup class was filled and so was my backup backup class, so I was left with no choice other than taking this class which I was told was interesting.  I have not regretted taking this class for one second.  Not even while I was writing an eight page paper on a novel that I finished a week too late.  Yes, this class was, as the title states, about faith and literature.  We read a few novels and discussed them intensely in class, but that's not what I have learned from this class.  This class has taught me something much more important than how to analyze a text in the context of faith.

This class was about love.  The love that we receive from God.  The love that we are intended to show others.  The love that we actually show others.  So many kinds of love boiled down into one bare concept: Love is not easy.  Love requires effort from both parties.  We cannot honestly accept love unless we can give love in return.  In a busy quarter, it is so easy to forget about others and think only of my own troubles.  My own homework that constantly causes stress and my own friendships that are struggling so often took priority over the troubles of those closest to me and I am ashamed of it.  Ashamed to say that I could be selfish enough to not even think about my best friends before myself.  I ignored Christ and then, through my professor's ridiculous British accent, I heard these words: "Trying to love is running a marathon.  It is a constant struggle to the very end."  

She went on and on about how love is not meant to be something easy.  If love were something easy, it wouldn't be God's greatest challenge to us.  "Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God.  Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.  Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love."  (1 John 4:7-8)  It seems like such an easy thing to love those around us, but in the midst of our own troubled worlds, it becomes a constant struggle.  Ms. Wolfe told us that love means laying down your life.  Are we willing to do that?  Are we willing to lay down our own lives for those we love?  

I see this love all around me now.  I see it in the heartbreak of those around me and the comfort they can find so easily.  I see it in the support through daunting tasks that stir fear within us.  I see it in the constant effort others put forward to make a busy quarter just a little bit less stressful.  It is in the hugs, the cookies and the walks by the canal.  The listening ears and the comforting words.  It is everywhere and I want to be a part of it.

It is a challenge to love, but it is not an impossible task.  God does not call us to do the impossible, he calls us to do the things that stretch us.  If he does not challenge us, how then are we to grow?  I know I have grown this quarter exceptionally due to a class that I was placed in by mistake.  I don't think it was a mistake anymore, it is proof that everything happens for a purpose.  If I hadn't been placed in this class, I would have forgotten what love truly means.  I hope that you don't forget like I did, for "this is the message you have heard from the beginning: We should love one another."  (1 John 3:11)