What's In a Name?

In an empty sanctuary

where the band plays only for me.

I remember these days from long ago

where five hundred was big and no number was small.

I remember the giant bear in the library,

curling up on it with stories of a bunny named Max.

Life was simpler then

and I was a stranger to no one.

Now I am incognito,

I'm just Holly-no Dahlstrom attached.

I'm proud of my name,

but what does life look like without it?

Is it quiet? Is it different?

Or could it be just the same?

In an empty sanctuary

where the band plays only for me.

Just the Two of Us

I must admit, though a bit of an introvert, I got quite lonely in the last couple of days. Waking up and coming home to my big empty house was not as relaxing as I imagined it would be. Only when there was another soul inside to drink a cup of tea with or share a bowl of pasta with did I really feel like I was home. When Valerie called me and asked me to meet her at the ferry, I was happy to do it because I knew that in a few hours the two of us would be sitting in our living room with the Christmas tree sharing my leftover burrito. We would be warm, we would be dry and we would be together. We laughed, we shared stories and we watched Babies. I felt exhausted and then, to my dismay, realized it was only a quarter to eight. "What should we do?" Valerie asked.

Sleep? No, it's too early. Clean? No, that's too productive. Watch another movie? No, that will make me fall asleep. We could play music. Yes...or not. Craft time? Yes! But our floor is really dirty...it must be vacuumed. WE SHOULD MAKE A BLANKET FORT! That was the ticket, the incentive to clean and then make a wondrous tent in our bedroom. Craft time IN the tent. Perfect. So, here we now sit. She has the crochet hook in her hand and I have chalky fingers and we are creating. The lighting is low, the music perfect and life is good. Moods like this are perfect for pondering, so I have found myself on this blog...words flowing from the keys...thoughts barely finished.

"Life should always be like this," I said. I love these moments of childhood that are often interspersed into my young adult life. Sitting in a tent in our bedroom, drawing pictures and making a scarf. Thank you, Jesus, for letting me still be a kid. The world is full of hurt, but it is nice to be able to escape it, even if it's only for a night. It is nice to be in the warmth of this moment, where the only thing we need to worry about is dropping a stitch or getting chalk on my quilt. These are the days that are Christmas break. Oh, how I love them!

Nurse 1 and Nurse 2

These girls are PHENOMENAL! I watch them stress a lot test over test over test. Tiny details that somehow change everything put so much anxiousness in their hearts and I just wish I could tell them not to worry. Then I found out today that they really do need to worry. If they get too low of a test score, they straight up get kicked out of nursing school. Too many wrong answers and they're done for? That's just not fair. But it gives me extra incentive to continue loving them extra.

I was the first one done with finals in The Nest, so I felt it was my duty to be very helpful as everyone else finished up. I cleaned the bedroom, the bathroom and then the kitchen. Then, Kate asked me what time I was getting up on Wednesday. "Probably never," I told her, as it was my first day to sleep in since Thanksgiving. "Why?" I asked. "Well," she hesitated, "if I woke you up early, would you pray for me before my exam?" Gosh, how could I say no to that? So, I figured if I was going to get up, I might as well make them pancakes before the big exam. Thanks to grandmother, who provided me with the perfect Norwegian pancake making supplies, I was able to give them a good breakfast before they went off to regurgitate all the knowledge they have acquired in the past ten weeks.

I am so proud of these two. I couldn't do it, not if you paid me a million dollars. The all nighters, the exams, the memorization...it's not a role that just anyone can fill. You have to be exceptional and Kate and Rachael really are. It is a pleasure to wake up early on sleep in day to do something to bless them. I adore them and I pray everyday that they will see the light at the end of the study tunnel. Someday they will be nurses and they will change and save so many lives every single day. What a joy it is to be a part of their extremely special lives.

Also, they both passed their final exams. On to winter quarter!

Breathe

"All that I know is I'm breathing."

I remember listening to this song on repeat last spring. I listened to it because I was terrified. Heartbroken. Alone. My God, how things have changed in the last six months.

I was talking to Anna today about how I feel like my junior year of high school is so far away. It was only four years ago, but if there is anything I have learned, it is that life is very moldable. We are shaped and defined by tiny events that occur and in the course of four years, much will change. I'm not just different from that 16 year old, I'm different from the 20 year old I became in June. Who will I be four years from now? Well, if there's anything else that I've learned, it's that there's no way to predict such things.

Here I am, over halfway through college: studying global development, living with four other girls I barely knew until about a year ago, playing my viola in two bands for ten hours a week and writing on a blog with a cup of tea in my hand at 9:30 on a Friday night. Did I ever think this is what my life would look like? No, but this is who I am and I really enjoy it. My boss asked me today what life will look like for these four weeks without class. I told her that they would most likely involve a lot of sitting and talking to my friends without feeling guilty about the ten page paper I have to write or the thirty page articles I have yet to read. My friends are very important to me and it feels like most things I do surround them. But during the quarter, there's always a part of my mind that is not at all focused on them. What joy it is not to have that chunk of my mind removed now. I am here...ALL of me. That, to me, is what a "good time" is. It's guilt-free, deep and full of love.

How frustrating that school so often gets in the way of my fun. I often wonder what it must be like to have a life where I can come home after work and do whatever I want. Then I get scared when I realize that such a time is not actually that far away. I have dreams, though, big dreams. I want to GO. I don't know what that means. Maybe I'll be like the lovely woman whose dog I walk and I'll change the world through libraries in Eastern Europe. Or perhaps I'll be Blake Mycoskie's new best friend and I will put shoes on the feet of children in Argentina. Or I will be called to something not so glamorous, but just as rewarding...I will be called to stay. Stay here in Seattle, this supposed "godless city," and let the love of Christ shine.

There is much for me here. My beautiful family, wonderful friends and a church that I have had the pleasure to watch grow. Why do I always have a longing to go? My challenge is to sit still and watch the world around me. Soon enough I will have the chance to go out and help, but first this. First there are studies, group and pastries with lattes. This is a phase and, like all phases, it will pass. I will enjoy it while it's here. And I will especially enjoy this particular part of the phase called Christmas Break. I'm glad you're here.

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.

On Relationships

Our very first lecture at Upward Bound began with these three questions:

What is the most important thing in life?

What causes the most JOY?

What causes the most PAIN?

Answer: Relationships.

How odd, I thought, that the one thing in life that brings us the most joy also brings us the most pain. Having the first ten days of Upward Bound focus on relationships was very important for me. This idea of our relationships causing the most joy and the most pain was ringing all too true for me at the time. Speaking as a friend who has felt a lot of hurt and caused a lot of hurt in the last year, but also living a life so full of love and laughter, I wanted to know how this is possible. It was something I had pondered earlier in the year when learning about forgiveness. Why is it so difficult to forgive those we love the most? It is because those are the deepest relationships that we are entwined in so tightly.

Over the next few days, we listened to lectures and discussed different aspects of relationships. Here are the things that stood out to me:

1. Man was never intended to live alone. In Genesis, God sees that Adam is alone and makes a partner for him. From the beginning of time, we were never intended to live this life on earth alone. We are to live in fellowship with one another.
2. Living life fully is a balancing act of learning how to love God, love others and love yourself.
3. You must be loyal to those you love and this loyalty is not something that can be proclaimed, it must be proven.
4. Learn to speak the truth in love. It hurts someone just as much to speak lies in love as it does to speak the truth without love.
5. Focus on living your life with God, not for God. He wants to walk with you each step of the way, not just watch you from afar.

The next weeks were full of putting this into practice. I was surrounded by new friends and also thinking of those at home. It became a very familiar challenge of trying to figure out how to foster my existing relationships while also trying to grow new ones. It is still a struggle for me, but while I was away, I did learn about simplifying and thinking about what is truly important. I don’t need another pair of shoes and I don’t need to see every musical at the 5^th Avenue this year. What I do need to do is focus on the things I have that will last: relationships with the ones I love.

All Alone

Don’t leave me alone at this time, for I’m afraid of what I will discover inside. –Mumford & Sons (Roll Away the Stone)

Just a few days before Upward Bound ended, we were hiking one day and we were led on a wild goose chase to a clearing in the forest. We all suspected by this time that we were going to be participating in the long anticipated solo night. Still, I think we all found there was no way to really prepare for this. Some had saved food from their lunches and others had packed their crochet hooks, but when we finally set out on our solo time, none of that really mattered.

When we reached the clearing in the forest before we all went our separate ways, we were told the basic purpose of the solo time. SO OFTEN, WE ARE TERRIFIED TO BE ALONE. WE MUST LEARN THE BEAUTY OF BEING AWAY FROM ALL DISTRACTIONS. I was actually looking forward to the time on my own, but others were cuddled close to their friends until the second we parted. The thing that surprised us all was that we would not be alone in the woods for 24 hours, but for 48 hours. Two days in the woods and here is what we had:

-a tarp and small rope to create a shelter

-our backpacks and whatever might be inside them

-Bible, journal and pen

I was worried about fasting, others were scared to be alone and the more logical ones were wondering about thunderstorms. So, after a short lecture on the spiritual discipline of fasting and solitude, we were led through the woods and dropped off one by one in the 20 square meters that we would be living in for the next two days.

It started off just fine for me. The sun was shining, I ate my last bit of food (an absolutely delicious apple) and I sat on a rock thinking to myself, “this is going to be great!” I built, what I considered to be, an excellent shelter that would guarantee me to stay dry. I opened my Bible and began plugging through Isaiah. As soon as the sun went down, it started to get very cold and I waited for the leaders to come fill my water bottle so that I could go to sleep. They came by and I proudly showed them my shelter and then I crawled into my little cocoon and fell asleep.

The next morning I woke to the sound of rain pouring down on my tarp. I was not wet, so the shelter had been successful, but I was very uncomfortable because I was tired of lying down and there was no way to sit up inside my shelter. So, I reached my hand out to feel how hard it was raining and decided to brave it. I put my shoes and raingear on and discovered it was not raining as hard as I thought. It was dry enough for a moment for me to create a second shelter out of an extra garbage bag I had in my pack. I tied it up in a tree and I spent a majority of the next 30 hours sitting in this spot. I constantly repeated this to myself:

Be still and know that I am God.

I was disgusted to later discover that my foot had been sharing my shoe with a slug for quite some time and was now covered in slime. Frustrated, very cold and very wet, this solo time was harder than I anticipated. But it was so good!

I went two days without eating any food. I wasn’t bored. I didn’t get lonely. I learned that I really don’t need much to survive. The only thing I desperately wanted was to be either warm or dry…it didn’t even need to be both. When it was finished and I was asked it I would do it again, I said “definitely, but only if it was sunny or I had a tent.” It really taught me not to take the basic things for granted. Things like hot drinks, a roof over my head and a mattress. It also proved to me that we really are not made to be alone. When we came back together after the time was up, we broke our fast together and it was one of the most joyful reunions I have ever experienced. We were full of love.

Licht Krieger!

My biggest challenge and my greatest joy, those are the two ways I can describe my team. Both descriptions are very true and what it came down to was this: they were wonderful people, but so incredibly fit. Our fitness levels ranged from mine-a girl who works out by tap dancing-to Dominic, a German 22 year old training for marathons. The first few days, I didn't notice how strong they were, but when our first tour hit, I could feel myself slowly falling to the back of the line. After our first day of hiking where we left last and ended up at our destination quite some time earlier than all the other teams, I asked myself, "Why am I on this team?" I quickly found out I was on this team to learn some lessons. Lessons about humility, strength and joy. We were a team of very distinctly different personalities.

We had our fearless leader, Tony. A man who listens to country music and line dances on Friday nights, but happens to hail from Northern California. He was cynical about everything which caused me to defend my optimism even more than I did before.

There was Karen, our civil engineer from Hamburg, Germany. She taught me how to deeply care for people, always cook with salt and the vital importance of a very good friend.

There was Sarah, a priceless gem. Through thick and thin, there was somehow always a smile on her face. When she had monstrous blisters and when we were camping in the pouring down rain, she somehow managed to keep all of our spirits high.

We lost Jonathan two weeks in due to a dislocated shoulder, but he was an excellent friend from the start. Easy to talk to with a full life behind him and a full life before him. He dressed like an old man and was so utterly proud of it that we too wanted to look just as goofy.

That brings us to dear Celeste. I met her about five seconds after I arrived in my room. She was a vivacious bubble of energy who knew Taurenhof front and back. She was only 19, but carried on conversations that a 25 year old wouldn't dare to attempt. She taught me the beauty of relaxing and enjoying every moment of life.

Dominic...how do I even begin? 22 years old from Southern Germany, but he is already fluent in three languages, has spent a year doing missions work in Africa, has a beautiful voice and ran 12 km in 45 minutes. A phenomenal man, but the most humble person I know. He always hiked in the back of the group so that nobody would have to feel like they were last. He carried my climbing equipment on a day that I couldn't bare the weight. He taught me that it's okay to ask for help.

And Luke, dear wonderful Luke. A Canadian who had been traveling the globe since January, he was just about closing off his trip with these five weeks in Austria. I am so glad he was on our team for many reasons. He embodies the rule of "a time to speak and a time to be silent." Sometimes he would be absolutely silent and other times we could talk forever on the trail about everything big and small.

It was a wonderful team and I'm so glad I was with them. They were always very encouraging, even when I so often doubted myself. They taught me that it's okay to ask for help, to cry when I must and to laugh when I want. I was quickly dubbed "Happy" because even when I should have been so entirely unhappy, there was always laughter mixed with tears. There was something about the combination of the mountains and this wonderful team that brought out the best in me. I came alive when I was with them and it was a true honor to be a part of the Licht Krieger with them.

And in case you are wondering, Licht Krieger means "Warriors of Light" and it has to do with Ephesians 5:8 which says: For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light." We did our best to make this ring true as we walked through the mountains together. Step by step, sore muscles and all.

My Happy Place

"Tonight was ultimate peace with the Alps in all directions. Somehow, each day brings a new wonder that I cannot believe. I am challenged beyond my limits, but the peace that comes afterword is perfection." -July 12, 2010: Upward Bound Day 9

The day had been a very long, hot and difficult one for me due to an empty water bottle paired with a steep push to our final destination. This picture was taken that evening after our dinner of sauerkraut and dumplings and in that moment I was filled with peace and wonder. Peace of mind because I had accomplished much on this day. I had hiked quite far with a pack on my back for the first time since I was eight and now here I sat in the middle of the Alps staring at the massive mountain range. But more than peace of mind, I was completely struck by the enormity of this world. This wasn't the first time I had this revelation and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

I was found in this happy place so many times while in Austria. It's a place where I can see the vastness of the world and within that I am able to see the glory of God. Something so often discussed was the difficulty with loving an intangible God. How is it that we can love and believe in a God that we cannot see or hear or touch? Well, moments like this one demand for that question to be rephrased because we can see God. He is in the world that He created and we can see Him everywhere. We see Him in the mountains and in the stars. We hear Him in the birds and the howling wind. We can smell Him in the hot pine needles and the fresh rain. We can taste Him in the fresh berries and the clear water. We can feel Him as our hands scale rocks and as cold snow falls into our boots. HE IS EVERYWHERE.

My father gave a sermon on Sunday that completely summed up my feelings about Austria. The sermon considered the power of beauty. Beauty has the power to transform us into someone new. It has the power to hurt, but also the power to heal. The power to move forward or the power to take a step back. As I sat on the rock you see in the photo, all the troubles of the world seemed to melt away. I was completely captured by the immense beauty of our world as the clouds weaved through the valley. I knew deep down in my heart that Seattle and Iraq and the Gulf of Mexico were all out there somewhere, but right there, in that moment, all I could see was mountains. All I could feel was peace. All I could think was how great is our God.

This picture now sits on my desktop at work and I stare at it every once in a while. I don't do it to make me sad and wish that I were not in an office, but rather in the Alps. It is simply a reminder that God is good and that I can always feel His presence in my life. He is not an intangible God and that is something I firmly believe. So long as we believe and trust in Him, we will be able to taste and see that the Lord is good!

Upward Bound

It's 5 am. I have now been up for an hour, trying to fall asleep, but it is hopeless. Those planes which took me halfway around the world have also taken away a normal sleeping pattern. So here I sit, in my bed, wishing to be asleep, but with a mind racing too fast.

How do I even begin to tell what I have experienced in the last five weeks? I could share a thousand memories of moments in the mountains. I can give an account of each tour we took through the Alps. I can match these accounts with dozens of spiritual analogies that I witnessed first hand. But none of these will ever amount to a full debrief of all that I have experienced and the ways that I have grown and been shaped. In the coming weeks, I'm sure I will give more detailed stories, but for now let me just share with you a little bit of what Upward Bound has meant to me.

I went into this program with the wrong attitude, but after about 2 hours, that attitude didn't seem to matter. Any preconceived notions of what Upward Bound had in store for me were thrown out the window the moment I stepped through the doors of the main building with the large letters of TAURENHOF painted on the outside. I entered my bedroom, shared with six other girls, and looked out the window. Right outside my window were the Dachstein mountains, boasting gloriously over the quiet and rainy streets of Schladming. These were the mountains I had come to climb? No, not really. I didn't come to climb physical mountains...I came to climb away from home, just for a moment. How strange that life can make me so tired that my only solution is to run away. "Austria will be the perfect escape," I thought to myself. Wrong. Austria would be the place where I would face and conquer the challenges that drove me there. "The mountaineering will push me out of my comfort zone," I said. Wrong again. These mountains would stretch me and push me so much that I would stop in my tracks 300 meters from the destination begging for water, feeling unable to continue.

Why oh why oh why did I ever think that this was going to be easy?

There was no way of knowing, really, how simple or hard this journey would be. We can try to plan things ahead of time, but in the end, you can never know until you're there. I learned quite quickly upon my arrival that you don't need to know. One of the biggest ideas of Upward Bound is that if you don't have to plan ahead, don't do it. This meant that for five weeks, we would not know where we were going, what we were doing, how long we would be away, what time it was or how far we would be hiking. For many, this was a huge challenge, but for me it was the biggest blessing I could have asked for. After a strictly scheduled year of school, not having to think about anything was heavenly. So now, when people ask me questions like "How far did you hike on any given day?" I can't provide an answer. I have no idea how far we hiked, but the distance was not the point of the hike. Ask me questions like, "Where did you see God on this hike?" or "What was the most beautiful thing you saw on that hike?" Those are the questions I can answer because those are the things I experienced.

On our last day, we met with our leaders one by one to discuss our time at Upward Bound. They asked us questions about our original goals and fears that we thought of on the first day. They asked us how we grew. They asked us what we learned. They were big questions and we could have discussed them for days. Let me tell you about them as well.

My three original goals:

1. To love the mountains. It's true. I'm a Dahlstrom who, until quite recently, didn't love the mountains. How this happened, I'm not sure, but by some freak accident, I never found the rest and beauty in the mountains that the rest of my family seemed to grasp so easily. Coming to Upward Bound, I wanted to find that and I did. Very quickly. Maybe it was the special Alpine feeling or the goats that wandered the mountains, but something that should have happened 20 years ago finally happened and I can say honestly now, I LOVE THE MOUNTAINS!

2. Live for today. This goal was difficult at the time, when I found out we would know nothing about the program until we were actually doing it. After about one day, though, I realized how perfect it is not to have to plan anything. Living "in the now" was a beautiful thing and getting back to reality will be very difficult.

3. Grow in Christ. Yes, I did this too. It would have been impossible for me to be in those mountains and not see Christ. It would have been impossible for me to be surrounded by 35 wonderful students and not see Christ's love. He was everywhere and I began to grasp that much more.

My three original fears:

1. Caving! A conversation in the cave:

Victoria: "Isn't this awesome?"

Holly: "No, I'm really freaked out right now."

Victoria: "Why? We're in a cave!"

Holly: "That's why!"

Victoria: "What's freaking you out?"

Holly: "You know, the crawling through small spaces, the fact that if I take a wrong step, I could fall an indeterminable number of meters into oblivion and die or the fact that I am unable to see the light of day."

Victoria: "Oh. Good reasons, I suppose."

The fear never entirely went away, but I still spent the night in that cave and seeing the light afterward is a feeling I will never forget.

2. Using this time only as an escape. I was afraid that I would use this time as nothing more than running away from my problems. Quite quickly, the program wasn't even used for that reason. Upward Bound was not a place to run away, but a time to refresh and a place to grow.

3. Going too fast. I wasn't talking about the hiking, just the five weeks as a whole. I didn't want to take any second for granted, but treasure the time I had there. When the five weeks were up, I could hardly believe it. I think it would have been impossible not to let the weeks fly by, though. They were too jam packed with beauty and joy to avoid the inevitable fact that they would finish so soon after they began.

The biggest question of all: What has stood out to me the most?

I think, of all the lectures and all the hiking and all the reflection time, what has stood out to me the most is that fact that this world is so much bigger than I can comprehend. I remember the first night of our first tour, I sat on a rock on a ledge and stared for a long time at the mountains beyond. I could see nothing but mountains every direction I turned and they seemed to go on forever. It was at that moment I was filled with awe by the fact that I get to be a part of it. I get to be a part of this beautiful world and that is a privilege that I shouldn't take for granted.

I swear there's magic in those mountains. Magic that makes cold pasta taste good. Magic that takes away fears. Magic that brings everyone together. Magic that makes the troubles of yesterday disappear. So go. Go to the mountains. Find the Lord in them and bask in the glory of creation.

"Oh taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who trusts in Him." -Psalm 34:8

Blessings

I have been here in these mountains for six days now and each day holds a new wonder.

The first day, it was the people.
The second day, it was the sound of the rain falling through the leaves.
Third, the vibrant green matched with the bright blue sky.
Fourth, the family of goats basking in the sun.
Fifth, there was the conversation.
And sixth, there was the view from what felt like the top of the world and then a light night hike beneath the most beautiful stars I had ever seen.

I have lived in Washington all of my life and I have traveled through many different mountain ranges, yet these mountains hold something that no other mountains have. I'm not sure if it's the exotic feeling or the cows and sheep that graze on the hills, but there is something majestic hiding in these trees. My soul is at rest here. The world can be so silent here that all you can hear are your footsteps and the wind in the leaves.

Of course, if I paint too beautiful of a picture, it can't possibly be true. Yes, we are all suffering from bad blisters and very sore muscles, but there are so many moments when I just don't care. Last night, we were sleeping in tents and woken up late at night. We were told to go on the same hike we went on the first day, but this time at night, without our leader and without speaking. Normally, such news would have angered me, but when I poked my head outside the tent and looked up at the stars, I could have run for miles. The most phenomenal stars I have ever seen were twinkling above my head...why would I ever complain?

Something struck me last night as we trudged up the road. We were stopped four times by our leaders and they each had a bible verse to share with us. In the silence and in the darkness, all I could hear were my own thoughts inside my head. Mostly prayers and hymns were running through my head. I'm not sure why, I never listen to hymns except at church, yet here, in the silence, the words of "Amazing Grace" and "Be Thou My Vision" were the only things running through my head. No anxious thoughts or bitter thoughts or questions earnestly seeking answers. Just words of thankfulness and awe.

How blessed I am to be living in the place I am and at the time I am. I sometimes hate reading the paper or listening to the news because it just highlights all the things that are wrong in the world. Yes, these things do happen and they are horrific, but why can we never look at the good? Why can we never pause for just one minute to see the beauty? The beauty in relationships, in birds and in rain. Pause right now. What do you have in your life that is beautiful? Wash away the bitterness and fear for a moment and think of what is good.

I am learning quickly that it is far more important to stress about what is right in front of you as opposed to what you're unsure of in the future. I am here in the Alps for five weeks and I have no idea what I'm doing after dinner. I also have no idea what I'm doing with my life, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that right now, in this moment, I have no need to fear. Life is good...so why stress about the things which we have no control over? We must learn to give up the things that hold us back from simply living. Our lives are gifts and we should not bring fear and anxiety into them.

I see Christ all around me. In the smiles, the sheep and the river, He is there. Where do you see Him today?

So Long, Farewell...Hallo!

I have been awake for 29 hours. Never in my life have I stayed awake for so long. Yet, here I sit, finally showered and droopy eyed with a racing heart excited for the weeks to come. After a flight to Chicago, another to Munich, one train from the airport to the city and another from Munich to Augsburg, it is safe to say that I am exhausted. So, when I called my friend Deni, I was surprised when she asked me if I was still in the States. "Well, no," I reply, "I'm at the train station in Augsburg." It turns out our dates were mixed up and I arrived a day earlier than expected. But I am immediately struck once again by the generosity of these friends of old. She said not to worry and within fifteen minutes, her black car pulled up to the train station.

When I arrived at their home, the whole family was there, grandparents included, and they joyfully set another place at the table for me because I came just in time for coffee and cake. We sat at the table and I tried desperately to pick out just a few words in German through their conversations and I just smiled. I am happy to be here.

The sun is shining more brightly than I have seen in Seattle since last August and every person I pass greets me with a cheerful "Hallo!" I am glad that I get to start and end my trip here with good friends who will well equip me for whatever journey lies ahead. What a blessing it is to have friends I can call family spread across this massive globe. And especially now in this little corner of the world in the southern part of Germany where a train will take me anywhere my heart desires and a friend lies waiting on either side.

In just a few days, I will be hopping on quite a few more trains making my way to Munich and then Salzburg which will lead me on to Schladming. There, my sister will be waiting with many other eager students and staff, ready (or perhaps not quite) for the adventures that lie in store for the next five weeks. I'm not sure what it will be like, but I'm excited for the mystery. With mystery comes surprises and surprises are quite excellent most of the time.

Thank You

It's weird, the way time works. One minute, you're stressed out of your mind unable to go on and the next minute you're breathing again. Year two is officially finished and I am now halfway through college. Yet, somehow, I'm not terrified. I feel in the right place for the first time in a while. I don't feel a huge lack of direction. I don't feel ahead of or behind everyone else. I'm 20 and that feels like the right age. I have found my place on a leadership team, starting year two in the fall. The greatest fear is what exists between me and my relationships.

I am a girl of many circles and it is increasingly difficult for me to make those circles intertwine. I desperately hope that I will be able to hold onto all of them, but life doesn't always work that way. How long until this heart becomes too heavy to hold on? When I let go, will they hold on while I regain my strength? Yes, I know they will. That's why these friendships still exist. If I give up when the other gives up, then there is no hope. But there have been years of one of us being too tired and still this love continues. For this peace, I will be forever grateful.

The last year has been far from easy, but I have learned so much. A year that started in pure bliss quickly hit a wall. A wall of questioning God and of wondering where I was supposed to be. As I overcame one fear or question, another would quickly pop up. It was like I was playing Mario...hopping on a mushroom only to see one of those nasty flowers in front of me, threatening to eat me and stop me from stepping any closer to the finish. Exhilarating highs and exhausting lows with nothing in between. Nine months of this emotional roller coaster is enough for now. As people ask me how year two was, I respond with, "Good. Very hard, but very good."

I am thankful for the year. No, I wouldn't have asked for many of the things that happened, but I came out alive and that's the point. There were conversations that I wish I could have avoided, relationships I wish I could have mended or grown and actions that perhaps shouldn't have been taken. But if I look back on the year and beat myself up about the things that have already occurred, how will I ever move forward? Not only did I come out alive, I came out knowing a much more clearly who I am. It's a good thing, being able to know who you are. I am learning how I handle things that seem too hard to face. I am learning what I need to rejuvenate. I am learning how best to relate to those around me. I am learning the importance of the words, "I love you." I am learning that life isn't always going to be easy, no matter how hard I try. Learning to be flexible. To be vulnerable. To love.

I thank you, Anna, for living with me for nine whole months, through the good and the bad. Thank you for the post-it notes, for the letters, for being quiet when I needed to sleep and for bringing me daisies when I had a cold. They all meant so much to me and I won't forget it.

Thank you, Jill and Em, for hanging out in our room even though your room was just as cool. Thanks for the encouragement when stress ensued. Thank you for plopping yourself on the fun couch and begging for snuggles.

Thank you, Jess Robertson, for playing the viola. That four stringed instrument, C-G-D-A, has created a friendship that will last forever. Thanks for being the perfect height and having the perfect heart for hugging. I'll be coming back to Fourth for some more of those.

Thank you, Candice and Becky Jo, for holding me and for listening. Thank you also for trusting me to do the same for you. You've both helped me through a very tough year.

Thank you, Chomes, for those many nights spring quarter where we brushed our teeth in every sink. You are my somebody to love, if you know what I mean. You've brought me so much joy.

Thank you, Ben, for drinking tea in my room between classes. For the long talks, for the encouragement and for allowing me to live in the fantastical Friends & Family world, but also stay connected to my SPU world. I know it's not easy, but I appreciate it so much.

Thank you, Val Baby, for wrapping chords with me every Wednesday night and for walking me and my instruments back to my room. Thank you for always knowing just when I needed you.

Thank you, Lara, for second chances and for making things new. I love you, more than I showed.

Thank you, Aly, for making sure that I will never forget the importance of group staff. Also, for teaching me the importance of living in the moment and not stressing about the future.

Thank you, Dahlstroms, for every single Sunday. For salmon lunches and listening ears. For advice in my woes and encouragement in my excitement. For Christmas in Ramsau. Most of all, I thank you for the unending love.

Thank you, Dewey, for the walks. I know you're just a dog, but our walks three days a week have given me a lot of time to think and have given me much needed peace.

This list could go on for so long, but I suppose it must stop somewhere. Thank you all, you know who you are, for giving me the strength and courage to persevere through difficult times. It is when I get through those times that I see beauty, hope, peace and love. I see it in all of you and it lights up my life. Thank you.

To Fourth

There is JOY

in our spirits.

There is BEAUTY

in our friendships.

There is LOVE

in our hearts.

There is LAUGHTER

in my memory.

There is TEA

in my throat.

There is LOVE

in my heart.

There is a STROBE LIGHT

in the bathroom.

There is TIE-DYE

in the shirt.

There is LOVE

in the heart.

There is FOURTH

in the Hill.

There is CHRIST

in the soul.

There is LOVE

in the heart.

Fit For Adventure

That's what it says on the side of my shoebox. Inside of the shoebox is a pair of red Chacos. Single straps without the toe strap, to be exact. We all have these things that are the last thing we need to be complete. For Jillian, it's her green Camelback water bottle, but for me it's these shoes. They are not the regular black flip flops or brown Keds. No, these are sturdy. These are for Austrian mountains and rocky Seattle beaches. These are for long walks and bike rides. I like that their slogan is "Fit for Adventure" because it's so fitting. Once these shoes are on your feet, the doors of the world feel as though they open for you.

I bought them for Austria after much thought and consideration. These are shoes to last a lifetime and you can't just buy them on a whim. When I told Mom I wanted them, she was proud that I was in a position to need such shoes. It's taken me significantly longer to enjoy the idea of being outdoors than it did for my brother and sister. For them, love of the mountains seems much more natural than it does to me. Yet here I am, standing in her office asking for her 20% off coupon to buy these shoes that will make me fit for adventure. I like adventures, I always have, but I have never craved an adventure like I am right now. I sit in my macroeconomics class and draw pathetic sketches of places I wish I were in. My mind wanders in and out of cross-cultural communication concepts and gets stuck dreaming about being in a different culture. In world history, I hear Austria-Hungarian Empire and I am stuck thinking about Austria. I don't think my mind will stop wandering until I am there.

How funny it is that a pair of shoes can inspire so much thought within me. But as I think about it, this isn't the first time it's happened. There were the tap shoes that changed my life. The tan character shoes that didn't fit quite right. The black T-strap character shoes that were perfect. The bright white converse that I wore to dorm prom. The silver heals that belonged to Grandma Nadine. The slippers that came from Budapest. The rollerskates that were a dream come true. My entire shoe collection is a collection of dreams and memories connected to a different pair of shoes. Dreams of being far away and dreams of being cozy in my home. Memories of dancing on a stage in a gold dress or strutting with my nose high in the air as Miss Gwendolyn Fairfax would do. They all have meaning...how consumeristic of me to adore my shoes as much as I do. At least a lot of thought has gone into these hundreds of dollars spent on shoes and there is a guarantee that they will last.

These chacos will go far, partnered with a pair of hiking boots. The tap shoes and ballet slippers were for a different season of life, but these shoes are for the next season of life. I hope that this will be my last pair of shoes for a while...I'm ready to be content in this season for a little while. I like where I'm headed and I'd like to stay on this road, wearing my chacos each step of the way.

Me, My Sister and Rosie

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

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

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

"In a little while I'll feel better

Gonna travel around the world

Gonna see it all"

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

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

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

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

"I have much farther to go

Everything is new and so unpredictable

I should just kick my heels together and go home

But I'm not sure where that is anymore"

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

An Unending Winter

Yesterday, the high was 52 degrees and the low was 41. CINCO DE MAYO and it's 40 degrees? This is not Spring Quarter. Where is the sun and where is the joy? We are in the middle of Week Six and I have yet to feel the ease of sunny days and love exploding out of everyone around me. Why is there still so much pain and hurt in so many lives? Why do questions that have been asked for so long still remain unanswered?

I am happy where I am, yet the world seems to be crashing down all around me and that does not make me happy at all. The world crashes as my dear friend calls me from across the hall to come and hold her as she cries. The world crashes as another reads about the murder of "a man from Edgewood" who is not just a man from Edgewood, but her uncle. The world crashes as the curly haired senior who always has a smile on his face no longer smiles. It crashes in failed tests, broken friendships and messed up plans. These are not the feelings of spring, these were supposed to be gone at the start of the quarter. These are feelings reserved for the darkness of winter that melt away in the sunshine of spring.

Isn't that the whole idea of spring? There is new growth all around and the rain washes away the murk of winter. Yet I don't feel it at all. But perhaps some springs are harder than others and maybe the murk of winter is just a little thicker. Or perhaps the new growth is painful to appear. Yes, I understand that. This last winter was indeed harder than those in the past. And the growth that has appeared from brokenness has been much harder to come by. But I know the sun will come out. It always does.

I don't want to sound depressed, because I'm not. I want to get across the point of hope. There is so much hope in these cold winter days of May. Just think how beautiful it will feel when the sun finally does come out. Eventually these cold drops of rain will wipe away the sadness that is in our lives. And the growth that has occurred in so many lives will flourish and become something completely beautiful. Maybe it will come tomorrow, if we hope hard enough.

Time Travel

When my alarm went off at 6 AM on Sunday morning, a sound had never seemed so out of place. No, not 6 AM, this isn't a time that I like to see. Especially not on Sunday, but on this day it was important for me not to fall back asleep and to get my act together. I rolled out of bed and crept about my room and roamed the silent halls. I packed various foods into a grocery bag to eat breakfast, boiled some hot water for tea and headed to the desolate lobby to wait for Kristi to pull up. This day was a day for a pilgrimage to the past.

Kristi is moving to Germany in a few months and has to do many things in preparation. She has to get her passport together. She has to move out (and give her furniture to me). She has to figure out how to say good-bye. Before she does any of that, though, she has to raise missionary support-- x amount of dollars a month in order to live and teach abroad. She decided to go back to her roots in Concrete, WA to tell the people there what she is about to do. A trek to Concrete hadn't been made for about ten years, so I didn't want her to do it on her own. Going back and walking the same paths you grew up on is something that I think would be hard to do alone and when she asked me to come with, I jumped at the opportunity. She didn't tell me I would have to get up at 6 AM, but it was 100% worth it.

As we drove the familiar path of I-5 north, it felt like any trip to the cabin. When we pulled off in Mt. Vernon and headed east, the trip became a journey to the past. Fields passed by and we entered the North Cascades. This is a trip that Kristi knew well and one that I sometimes wish were more familiar to me...especially after this trip. The mountains were freshly covered with snow, there was a huge herd of elk in a pasture and there was nature that I don't get enough of on 3rd Ave. West. When we entered the tiny town of Concrete--the town that will always remain the same way we left it--memories came into my mind. Memories of choir tours and Sunday school classes.

Walking through the doors of the Community Bible Church, I felt like an adult. There are few points in my life where I have truly felt like I am an adult, but this was one of them. The growing up points so far have been things like buying lettuce, writing a check, and buying a book of stamps...but going back to my roots, this was a point that reaches far beyond the postage stamps. This trip was like time travel...Concrete was frozen in time and Kristi and I advanced ten years. Nobody recognized me unless they saw me next to Kristi. Here we were, the young Dahlstrom girls, but not so young anymore. We've grown. Our hair is no longer cut into mullets and our adventurous hearts stretch far beyond the Skagit River.

Though Seattle is the place I have called home for the last fourteen years, it was important for me to be reminded of the very first place I called home. It was important to be reminded that there is a part of my heart that will always be from that small town. I often wonder what life would look like now had I remained in the mountains longer. I might have become more prone to mountainous adventures like the other four Dahlstroms. Or perhaps I would have been more desperate to get away from home. There's no way of knowing what that picture would look like...that's the beauty of it. Certain events occur that shape the story of our lives and once they happen, there's no turning back. Life is about moving forward, but this trip taught me not to forget the past. It was a way of taking a step back and looking at my life now.

It's exciting. It's leading me in a completely new direction and there is a light directing only the path right in front of me. One step at a time, that's how I'm moving through life right now. First, I will finish spring quarter. Then, I will board a plane to Austria (God willing) and climb mountains in the Alps. After that...well, nobody knows what's after that. And that's where the excitement comes from.

Watching Over Me

For the past few days, I was at Grandma's house in Bend, OR. It's just a little apartment off of my Uncle Ken's workshop, but it's lovely. It seemed quite a bit bigger compared to the various fifth wheels she and Grandpa had lived in for as much of my life as I can remember. No matter where she was living, going to spend time with Grandma has been a constant joy.

Living in the North Cascades for the first five years of life, Grandma and Grandpa's trailer was always an escape from whatever was going on in the house. As soon as I would hear Noah's voice get just a little bit more frustrated during a homeschool lesson, I would run out the door. My five year old legs would take me down the steps and across the grassy expanse to where the trailer was parked and I would walk in the door to a magical place. Inside the trailer waited television joys such as Mr. Roger's and Lambchops. Inside the trailer was apple juice that came out of the refrigerator that blended into the walls. Inside the trailer was a craft that Grandma would prepare and Grandpa would oversee. Inside the trailer was peace.

When we moved to the city, it meant more than a thirty second commute by foot. It meant driving all the way up to Mount Vernon, past the tulip tower and into the trees that lay just beyond. But in Mount Vernon, there were many things that our acres in the Cascades did not offer. There was a pool and miniature golf. There was also a new trailer, The Hitchhiker II, with its sparkling pink letters on the outside and pale green furniture inside. Mount Vernon held wonderful opportunities for excitement, especially in the summer. We would all pile in the white minivan for the journey that felt so long and we would stop at Safeway. We would pick up fresh rolls and all the fixings for sandwiches and then we would go to the Thousand Trails Park where Grandma and Grandpa would park every two weeks.

Entering the trailer was always fun, the way the door would swing open when we pulled up and welcome us into a weekend full of fun. We would all trudge down to the pool with the sandwiches and eat them under the shade of a tree that stood next to the pool. Then Noah, Kristi and I would jump in the pool while Grandpa sat in the hot tub. It happened so many times over the years and these days were part of my childhood and part of what made me close to my grandparents.

As Grandpa began to grow more weary, they decided to move to California where they could stay permanently in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. It was no longer a day trip to Grandma and Grandpa's; those ninety minutes to Mount Vernon never felt so close. I remember the first time we went to visit it was a surprise. We somehow got past the gate to the park and navigated our way in the dark to site #324 where the trailer was parked. We pulled up and knocked on the door and they were overjoyed. Surprises are great, especially the spur of the moment ones like this. The trip had been long from Seattle to Fresno with Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets playing in the tape deck and this was where it ended. It ended in the trailer...dim lights on the walls, hot drinks rushing down our throats, Oreo cookies with milk and thirteen rounds of Chicken Foot.

The last trailer was a few years before Grandpa passed away. This one was sleek and big and had the kind of table that turns into a bed and I spent many nights in this bed the last few years the trailer was around. Each summer for three years in high school, I would fly down to Fresno to spend two weeks with my grandparents. One week in the heat of Fresno with Grandma Nadine and the other in the mountains with Grandma and Grandpa. These weeks were very special and fill up a big place in my heart. A relationship with a grandparent is not something that everyone has, especially a close one, but I have had close relationships with all my grandparents. What they think is very important to me and making them proud is something that I love to do.

I think that's why this last trip to Grandma's was very significant to me. Grandpa passed away nearly three years ago and I have changed so much since then and I wonder if he would be proud of me now. As I fell asleep the past few nights on the hide-a-bed, it was next to a giant stuffed chipmunk named Chipper. This fluffy stuffed animal was a constant joy that Grandpa and I shared and a reminder to me of the love that we shared. I fell asleep with the hope in my heart that Grandpa is looking at me with pride in his heart. Grandpa, if you're listening, thank you for the love you've always shown and thank you for watching over me. I love you!