when i move you move

This is a hard post to begin because I have so many thoughts about so many things and want them to be well formulated and eloquent, but I'm not sure how well that will work at this point in time.

Let's go back four years to the spring of 2012. I was living in Korea. I found myself in a place where I knew that my teaching contract would be ending soon and I'd need to figure out what came next. The whole notion of "what comes next?" has always stressed me out. I wish I could convince you that I'm one of those free spirited, go with the flow gals, but anyone who knows me knows that I'm a not so secret control freak. I don't need to have absolute control over everything, but I like direction, planners, consistency, and comfort. I received an email from Karen Pearson who is the Director of Residential Life at my alma mater. She was looking for someone to fill a graduate assistant/internship position in Student Development. I had found my direction. I would spend the next year learning/living alongside some wonderful people while beginning to work on my graduate degree. During that year, two Resident Director positions opened up. There was a long period of unknown where I had applied and interviewed, but was waiting to hear back from the big dogs (bow wow). When I was hired and given the official stamp of approval, I was ecstatic. I had a plan. I knew what I'd be doing. I had direction.

I've spent the last three years of my life living alongside anywhere from 130 to 175 freshmen woman serving as the Resident Director for Ford Hall. This position has been the most incredible, difficult, beautiful, and growing experience of my life. In three years, I have had the pleasure of journeying with young women who are experiencing everything imaginable. I should have started writing down these moments long ago because some of them are so peculiar that I don't think anyone would believe me. There are sentences I've had to say with a straight face that I never imagined ever having to say. It has been a wild job- in all ways imaginable. I am so incredibly grateful for it. As these freshmen woman have grown up during the year they've spent inside of these brick walls, I have also grown up alongside them. My capacity for empathy has increased, I've learned to balance gentleness and boldness better, and I've become far more patient than I was several years ago. I've also learned so much from the people that I've worked with. The Student Development team is the best team I think I'll ever be a part of. It is a strange little family- one that I'll forever be grateful for.

In December of this past year, I was writing about how I felt like this chapter of my story might be coming to an end, but I wasn't sure why I felt that way. I wasn't dissatisfied with my position, I loved the people the that I worked with/for, and the year had been going so smoothly. This feeling didn't make any sense and I tried to ignore it. Why was this happening? I couldn't make sense of the nudging. I communicated about things with my bosses, but ultimately decided to stay. I tried to ignore these strange feelings and committed to another year. I picked a new team, seven fabulous young women who I was incredibly excited about working with, and started dreaming up what the next school year would hold. I had the opportunity to accompany a group of twelve students on a trip to Europe in the spring and while on that trip, realized that the nudging I felt wouldn't go away regardless of how many times I tried to ignore it. It seemed as though the plans I had laid out for myself, however pure my intentions were, were no match for responding to the nudging of the Lord. I'm not a person who can distinctly say I've heard the audible voice of God, but I've felt his nudges. They start out very gentle and the longer you ignore them, the more intense they get. Basically, that had been my last seven months. What started out as a faint whisper (side note: I hate whispering mostly because my mom tries to do it and it's so loud just like when my Grandma tried to whisper plus it's usually so breathy and warm and I'm just getting the gross chills thinking about it not that my mom is gross or anything sorry mom.) turned into a steam roller. Thanks Jesus, you know I'm not one to be in tune with subtlety.

Even when the steam roller came, I still tried to discern if it meant what I thought it meant. Oh, it did and it was terrifying. I'm a creature of habit. I crave being known and understood. I decided one morning that the day had come and I needed to resign from my position. There was no other position I was going to, I wasn't sure what I would do or where I'd go, I just knew that I couldn't ignore these feelings any longer. I called my mom and filled her in on what I was about to do. She was incredibly supportive and so I went to go tell my boss. I got to her office and several other coworkers were there so I totally chickened out. I am many things but brave is not one of them. I mustered up the courage and came back later that day. I knew that every moment I waited, it would become increasingly difficult to do what I knew needed to happen. My boss was both incredibly gracious and encouraging which helped make me more comfortable than I could have imagined. I was able to tell my VP that day as well. He thought I was crazy and I don't blame him because I felt crazy. There was no reason to leave other than "I think it's time and I have no idea why because I'm not unhappy but I know if I ignore this feeling then I will die a little inside." Side note: My inner monologue frequently communicates in run on sentences. That whole experience was a blur. It's almost like I wasn't in control of my body, like I was watching this calm, cool, and collected human make such a big decision. But, I did it. Well, the Lord did it. He drenched me in peace and gave me the calm I needed in order to leave something good and step out into the unknown, having to practice what I preached about trusting God (isn't that the worst when you have to do that???).

So that's the story of how I became a crazy person who trusted God. I'll have more to share about where He led me but that's enough for now.

a thrill of hope

I have felt burdened as of late, an overwhelming burden that I feel entirely powerless against. Every time I log onto the internet or catch the news, it seems as though another tragedy has occurred. School shootings, bombings, persecution, and murders seem so common now that it’s almost as though I’m not fazed anymore. I wrote a post a while back on being mad about school shootings and how it seemed that it was more of a “when” and less of an “if.” 

After the attack in Paris, I talked to a friend who loves the city and has spent so much of her life studying the language and traveling through the very city that was all over the news. She talked about balancing between the Christian ideal of forgiveness and grace, but while being entirely angered at the evil that had occurred. I said back to her, “I feel so overwhelmed with the darkness and devastation that I don’t even know where to start. I don’t know how to think about it and not allow myself to become broken and angry and bitter.”

s o u r c e

I’ve come to a place where it’s easier to not think about it because thinking about it and really leaning into the pain and brokenness means confronting hard truths. It means asking tough questions- questions that may never be answered and the reality of wrestling with those questions for the rest of my life is terrifying. It’s easier to bury my head in the sand and pretend like nothing is wrong. If it hasn’t happened in my little world, then it’s almost like it didn’t happen. I realize that isn’t healthy and that it’s actually just denial. 

To be honest, I’m scared to ask tough questions. I’m scared at what that journey of questioning looks like. I know that God is good- it’s a truth that I cling to, but it’s also hard to look at what is happening all over the world and still proclaim that God is good and is for us. It’s not impossible, but it can just feel really difficult sometimes. 

I was driving earlier today and “O Holy Night” came on the radio. I was covered in chills and brought to tears as the song proclaimed, “A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.” We are a weary world. We are perpetually saddened and broken over the state of our world. That’s something that we can all, regardless of our skin color, culture, or country of origin, can identify with. 

s o u r c e

This season, the season of advent, is one of hope and anticipation as we celebrate the birth of our Lord and Savior. In the midst of tragedy and devastation, we can grasp to the promise of restoration. Even though the brokenness feels insurmountable, we are promised that restoration is to come. This season reminds us of that. 
Brothers. Sisters. Do not abandon yourselves to despair. Cling to the hope of goodness and truth. Rejoice in that truth. Just as the song says, “for yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.” 

you are not being persecuted

A friend showed me a video last night of a loud, aggressive, "Christian" man claiming that the new holiday Starbucks cups were an intentional movement on behalf of Starbucks to take the "Christ" out of Christmas. Now, Christians all over are equating this act with persecution because there aren't any overt references to Christmas on the cups.

Yeah, I'm being entirely serious. I could not wrap my mind around the argument he was trying to make. Red cups are persecution? He also commented that Starbucks employees are banned from saying "Merry Christmas" and that Starbucks "hates Jesus." Those are some pretty lofty, completely unfounded claims. I'm not writing this because I love Starbucks or I want those sweet, sweet Creme Brûlée lattes protected: I'm writing this because American Christians need to stop claiming that they are being persecuted.

Starbucks is a company. It is run by a CEO. It is composed of almost two hundred thousand employees who work in stores all over the world. Corporations aren't religious. When we all die and get to those pearly gates, I don't think Starbucks will be standing alongside Chick Fil A waiting to hear if they get to spend eternity worshipping the good Lord. The people who compose the corporation can be religious, but in and of itself, the corporation is not. Why should Starbucks honor one faith above another, when it is not a religious entity? Why should the cups be adorned with messages of Christmas? What about Kwanzaa, Hannukah, or Mawlid? These are all holidays that are incredibly important to individuals from other cultural or religious backgrounds. Why should a secular corporation celebrate one holiday above another? Would people be crying persecution if the cups were blue with little menorahs on them? I would imagine that a significant population, the same individuals who are claiming persecution in this case, would regardless of what the cups looked like. That is, unless the cups were overtly and undeniably "Christian."

Also, do none of these individuals remember that Starbucks, in addition to their annual "Holiday Blend" sell a "Christmas Blend" and an Advent Calendar? They hate Christmas? They hate Jesus? Oh, it really does make my blood boil. It is so ignorant. No, it is more than ignorant... it is asinine. The way this man is encouraging people to make their point to Starbucks is through ordering drinks and saying that their names are "Merry Christmas" so that the cups will have their specific holiday message on it and baristas will be forced to say it. First of all, let's go over "Boycotting 101"- maybe don't send people to spend their money to support the place that you're so angry at. I mean, this just seems so basic, but maybe I'm the one that is backwards. Second of all, it is just so stupid that I'm not actually going to dignify their argument by making another point.

Don't get me wrong- I don't like the cups this year. My dislike for them has absolutely nothing to do with anything other than the fact that minimalism isn't my favorite style of art/design. That is it. It has nothing to do with my own religious beliefs. It simply involves my personal tastes and preferences.

Persecution is such a buzzword right now. So many people, as of late, have claimed persecution and I want to look at them and recite these famous words from "The Princess Bride:"

I am especially bothered by these claims of persecution in light of what is happening to our Christian brothers and sisters all over the globe. Every month, three hundred and twenty-two Christians are killed for their faith and seven hundred and seventy-two acts of violence are committed against Christians because of their faith. These acts of violence can include physical abuse, rape, beatings, false imprisonment, etc. This is persecution. Starbucks having plain red (okay, ombre...) cups is not the same as being imprisoned for over three years in an Iranian prison for your religion like Saeed Abedini.

Persecution is real. It's happening all over the world. It's happening right now. It is brutal, terrible, horrific, and devastating. But, it is not happening at the hand of Starbucks or their red cups.

worth staying

There has been a lot of pain surrounding me recently. I work at a Christian university and unfortunately, our school has been making the news over the past four months for some really heavy, difficult, and heartbreaking things. This university isn’t just a place of employment for me: it’s my home. When I was a junior in high school, I stumbled across an add for this university in a magazine. I had lived in California for my entire life, but something about moving to another state for college seemed really exciting. I ended up deciding to spend time at a community college and when it came time to transfer, I decided to visit this school. I didn’t have my heart set on coming here, but I thought it would be fun to visit. From the moment I stepped on campus, I knew I was home. I can’t even describe the feeling as anything but instantly having an overwhelming sense of peace that everything was as it should be. In August of 2009, my parents and younger sisters brought me out to Idaho. While it was hard saying goodbye to them when they left, I knew that I was in the right place. I knew I was exactly where God wanted me. 

I spent two years studying, experiencing life, and growing at this university. The time I spent in the classroom, residence halls, around campus, and in the community was entirely transformative. Fast forward to 2015: I’m getting ready to begin my fourth school year as an employee for the university. In March, I’ll be finishing my graduate degree. This however-many-acre campus is where I live, work, and study. So much of my life is wrapped up in this space and in the people who also call it home.

In times of hardship, my first reaction is to run. I’m really good at always having an escape plan. When things become difficult, my first thoughts are how I can get out of the situation. When things started unfolding in April, I wondered why I was still here. What am I doing? Why would I subject myself to being surrounded by such negativity and sorrow? I was talking to one of my dear friends the other day about what had been happening at our home and he said, “We are closing a very sad and strange chapter. I think for me, I just have to mentally commit myself to being part of the solution moving forward.” We talked a bit more about reconciliation and redemption. That hit me like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t about the pain, it wasn’t about the sorrow, it was about saying, “Look, I know this is hard, but it’s worth it to stay and rebuild."

Staying and being part of the solution doesn’t mean disregarding what has been done. For me, it means looking right into the face of it, acknowledging it, feeling whatever I need to feel about it, and saying, “Okay, what do I do with all of this?” To me, that means weeping with those who have been hurt, but it doesn’t mean staying in that place of pain. I know that staying in the pain is dangerous. It allows things to fester, and when that happens, I become obsessed with my pain in a way that keeps me distanced from God and goodness. I do not say that to discount what anyone is feeling or the pain that they are experiencing. I don’t say that to smooth over what has happened and propel everyone forward. Everyone grieves in their own way, but for me, I know I can’t remain in the grief, anger, or sorrow. 

SOURCE

God has made it very apparent to me since the moment that I stepped onto this campus as a prospective student that I am supposed to be here. This place, although currently devastated, is so beautiful and special. The staff and faculty give everything they have to the students that decide to call this place home. The Lord works here, both in people and through them. This is a place of transformation. By no means is it perfect, but it is good, and that is because of the humans that compose the heart beat of this place. Even though my natural reaction is to run, I’m learning through this experience, that staying is good. I’m choosing to plant myself here, for however long the Lord calls me to be in this space, and I promise to be a part of the solution. 

Regardless of what has happened here and will happen here in the future, I believe in this place. I commit myself to moving forward, through the brokenness, and being a part of reconciliation. 

i'm mad

I've been trying to formulate my thoughts on the recent events in Charleston, South Carolina, but I can't seem to find anything worth saying.

I keep coming back to feeling mad.

I'm mad that this happened. I'm mad that someone felt like it was their right or job to take the lives of others. I'm mad that hate runs so deep that a person would feel justified in harming others. I'm mad that nine beautiful lives were taken. I'm mad that not even churches are safe. I'm mad that there is so much brokenness and racism in the United States. I'm mad that there are some people who aren't devastated over what's happened. I'm mad that we live in a time where these things continue to happen.

I remember the first time that I realized that the world was not a safe place, it was about one week before my tenth birthday. A girl who lived not far from me in Southern California was found brutally murdered in her bedroom. It took me years to get over this, and that's not an exaggeration. I remember being so shocked that someone could hurt an innocent girl, in her own home. She was about two years older than me and there was something about the closeness in age and the proximity to home that made this so real for me. It really was the first time that I was afraid of murder, harm, and death.

One year later, on my little sister's 9th birthday, the Columbine shooting happened. Twelve high school students were murdered that day, twenty one were injured, and the two shooters committed suicide. I didn't understand. How could something like this happen at a high school? I was eleven years old and remember thinking that maybe school wasn't a safe place. The Columbine shooting stuck with me for a while as well. I remember reading "She Said Yes," the story of Cassie Bernall, one of the murdered students. I remember thinking about what I would have done in her specific situation and what I would have done if I were at that school that day. I was eleven years old and my thoughts were occupied with these types of questions- questions about why people hurt others and why the places I always considered to be safe weren't.

The massacre at Virginia Tech University happened in April of 2007. I was 19 years old. I was one year into college and working at a golf course. I remember being inside the golf course grill when someone told me to go look at the televisions. Thirty-two people were murdered that day. I sat there with customers, watching the horror and devastation unfold right before our eyes. We sat in silence, our eyes glued to the television. It made no sense to me. How could this happen?

I'm mad that I had to see those things as a child, but more than being mad about seeing it, I'm so mad that it was reality for others. I'm mad that people had to live that. I'm mad that there is such terror and hatred in the world. I'm mad that one day, I'm going to have to explain these events to my children and that I'm going to have to be afraid of what could happen to them.

I'm mad that, in this time and place, mass shootings are not uncommon to hear of.

University of California at Santa Barbara. Century Movie Theater in Aurora, CO. Columbine. Virginia Tech. Santana High School. Sandy Hook. Seattle Pacific University. Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church. 

I'm so mad and my heart is broken. I'm mad that children have to grow up being afraid that they could be hurt, whether it is because of their race, where they go to school, where they worship, or just because someone decides that they will harm them. I'm mad that this keeps happening yet it seems like our devastation, as a society, decreases every time. It's almost like we're calloused to the brokenness and the sorrow, whether that be because we don't want to feel the pain or we just don't know what to do with it.

I'm grateful that I serve a God who knows more than I do, that loves in a way I can not understand, and who values all life. There is comfort in that, but the sorrow remains. I hate platitudes and when people try to make beauty in situations where the brokenness needs to be felt and grappled with. All I know is that one day, wrongs will be righted and brokenness will be mended: everything will be restored. I cling to that hope. I wait for that day, but my waiting does not allow me to sit idly by as my brothers and sisters are pain. Lord Jesus, equip me to respond to this brokenness in the right way and please, come in glory.

what is love?

If you're anything like me, you probably had this running list when you were in middle school or high school of what traits your future husband needed to meet in order to be worthy of you. Even writing that sentence sends chills down my spine because it's such a silly concept, yet something that SO many of my friends did. I don't know who gave us that idea. Who was the first person to scrawl a list of fluffy personality traits, stash it in a hope chest or special drawer, and then share it with their friends? That person, whoever they are, is the worst.

As I get older and singler (not a real word but it works here), I realize how much of that stuff really is just fluff. I remember writing about someone who could play the guitar, led worship at church, was athletic, funny, had dark hair, and just knowing that those things, for me, were non-negotiables (at the time). I think every girl who grew up in a Christian community had a thing for worship band members at one point, if you didn't, you are foreign to me and then who did you even have a crush on?

I was talking to my gal pal Elyse a couple months ago about these silly lists we created and what our lists would look like now, if we were to create one. We started rapidly texting back and forth about things that are important when you're considering investing in someone as a 27 and 28 year old. The thing that tops our lists, still, is someone who is religious. It's not necessarily the person in front of the church, like the worship leader dream boat from our youth, but someone who is an active participant in a body of believers. It means someone who's life truly does revolve around Jesus, in the most genuine and true fashion. All I knew as a seventh grader was that I wanted it to be someone who was super involved at youth group and probably on SALT or LIGHT, which were the names of our 7th and 8th grade leadership teams. That was more for popularity's sake than anything genuine. I wanted a cool church kid- now I just want a real Jesus lover.

We also talked about finances. We don't want to date no scrubs. This doesn't mean we're looking for people with bank accounts that end in infinite zeros (it would obviously have a real number in the front so that it wasn't really just zero dollars). Do you know how to manage money? Can you stick to a budget? Can you balance your check book? Do you spend within your means? Do you maybe have a retirement account or a savings account? These are the traits that are sexy in your late twenties. You don't need to be rich nor do you even need to make a substantial amount of money- just don't be overdrawing all the time and spending money on take out 24/7 when you can't afford to buy more toothpaste. Not sexy.

Understand the importance of family. As I get older, I realize that not everyone grew up in a tight knit family unit like I did. My parents always loved each other, my siblings were mostly always good to me, and my extended family was relatively normal. I say relatively normal because there's some crazies that I share a blood relation with, but we all still love each other. You don't have to be super close to your family or even have the average 2.7 siblings and 1.9 parents, but have a desire to create a family connection.

These are pretty much the most important things- Jesus, responsibility, and family. Everything else, hair color to sense of humor, is all frosting. Sure, it would be great if the person loved all my favorite music and thought that Taylor Swift was the most incredible human, but that's not likely. Unless, of course, I marry myself which is a big no thank you. This may seem unromantic or boring, but it's actually quite exciting as I think about it. Relationships and romance is so much different than I ever could have imagined as a 7th grader, but I'm glad that we change and develop. Otherwise, I'd still be keeping my eyes peeled for a real life Landon Carter and we all know there's no truth to that Nicholas Sparks concept.

life lately

Do you ever have those moments where you feel like you've finally caught up on everything only to feel like you're in so far over your head the next moment? That's been my life lately. It's not a bad thing- it's just a busy thing. I'm learning how to prioritize, how to say no, and how to properly use my planner. If I didn't have those things, I would be in serious trouble. School is absolute bonkers right now, but only seven more months until I have three little letters to add behind my name! I've started spending about ten hours a week doing counseling and group therapy at a drug/alcohol rehabilitation facility. I am absolutely LOVING it. You guys, my first day was so intimidating, but I feel like this is such a good place for me. I have to complete a total of 500 hours and it's something I'm actually really excited about.

Life hasn't been all business lately, there's been some seriously fun moments- like Sundance! I realize that I never blogged about it, but better late than never, right? My 27th birthday was at the end of January and my best friend Summer invited me to come join her, her boyfriend, and some other friends at Sundance. Her boyfriend is a film maker and had a documentary debuting this year. I got to see a rough cut of the documentary last September, but it was such an incredible experience getting to see the film all finished & polished on the big screen at a major film festival. The film, Beaver Trilogy Part IV, is such a moving exploration into that little desire to be famous that we all have in us. I'm so proud of all Brad's handwork, and I'd encourage you to look into the story of the Beaver Kid, you won't regret it.

In addition to seeing Brad's film, we went to some fun parties, concerts, and saw several other movies. My favorite movie, by far, was "Me and Earl and the Dying Girl." We saw that film the morning of my birthday and I simultaneously laughed out loud and cried like a baby. It was beautiful- the movie, not me. I am sure I left a lot to be desired in that moment. Me and Earl and the Dying Girl got picked up for $12 million dollars by Fox Searchlight, which is the most a Sundance film has ever been purchased for. It's going to be released in major theaters on July 1st of this year, so do yourself a favor and see it. I'm definitely seeing it at least once more, if not five thousand times.

We were guest listed by a friend at the Sundance TV lounge for the Allen Stone concert. I had never heard of Allen Stone before that evening but you best believe he's been in heavy rotation since that night. He is crazy talented. You couldn't help but move during the concert, it was such a fun environment. Plus, one of the sponsors of the lounge was Brookside so you know I had a ton of fancy chocolate covered berries. The same friend that guest listed us was actually the producer for this event and gave me a ton of chocolate for my birthday. Chocolate covered acai berries for daaaaays. 

My friend Laura, who is the baker at my favorite coffee shop, made me this delicious cake version of my favorite cupcake for a little get together that some girlfriends threw for me. We chatted, ate, and then played croquet. I came in dead last (which is rude of them to not let me win on my birthday, but oh well), but still enjoyed playing. Spring has arrived early this year and I am not taking it for granted. We're supposed to have weather upwards of 70 degrees tomorrow. Thank you global warming. 

My sweet, sweet Marm and little sister Sophia came to visit last week. We spent time visiting some local colleges and I got to show them my favorite places. It would be so much fun to have my little sister come up here to college. I'm trying to be super neutral and encourage her to make her own decisions, but inside, I'm totally rooting for Idaho. One of my favorite parts of my Marm coming to visit is exploring all of the local antique shops with her. She's a huge fan of antiquing and has filled our home with so many treasures from all over. I love it. In addition to finding treasures, you also ALWAYS find creepy things, like this baby. It's the worst thing I've ever seen. Help. 

That's what's been happening in my neck of the woods recently. Lots of busy moments, but also finding the good and restful moments where I can. What have you been up to? Are you living in snow or has spring sprung early for you as well? Also- TONIGHT IS THE LAST NIGHT OF THE BACHELOR. SO many thoughts to be blogged later this week.