A New Life

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

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

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

in awe of the one who gave it all.

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

all I am is Yours.

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

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

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

I once was lost, but now am found.

Was blind, but now I see.

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

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

So what can I say, what can I do?

But offer this heart O God, completely to You.

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

A Creed for the Discouraged

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

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

Pause

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

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

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

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

It Began Before It Was Over

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

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

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

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

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

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

  

90 Years of Love and Life

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

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

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

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

I Do

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

RING BY SPRING.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of Beatles and Downpours and Dancing Shoes

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

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

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

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

"These are our friends."

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

"We don't need your pity."

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

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

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

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

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

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