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.