Lesson 2

Last night, the thought of returning to school in less than 48 hours horrified me. I was dreading it. I needed more time. This morning, I woke up early, got my hair cut, stopped at CVS to refill a prescription, then went over to Target--strangely, the exact same routine as one of my mornings only a couple days before returning to school this summer. This was definitely unplanned and dawned on me when I walked into CVS and wondered why it looked so unfamiliar. I figured that before I had always gone through the drive-through, which reminded me that the last time I was there I visited a Big Red Twisty Slide and took pictures while waiting for my prescription to be filled. Anyway, this combined with various other sights and smells of home were like total deja vu and compelled me not only to remember, but to feel that inexplicable excitement and anticipation I had about coming back to school only two months ago. Where did that go? If the mid-August me could see me now, the former would be pretty angry at the latter for not making the most of this year so far. It really woke me up to how much I have to be thankful for. I know I love being at school, and now I can honestly once again say I'm really excited to go back.

Lessons

In the short time since I left school at 2:22 pm yesterday afternoon, I feel like I've learned a lot. Honestly, this semester has been rough. I wouldn't trade it for anything, but it has been difficult in terms of work, homework, Sherpa stuff, and relationships with both God and people. I think in the midst of trying to be perfect by overcoming my fears, tackling a busier schedule than ever before, strengthen friendships by working through conflicts, and focus on laying down my pride, ironically I've become all the more self-centered.

First of all, I need to be a better friend and roommate. I've been so wrapped up in my own workload and issues that my poor roommate is undeservingly the one on whom I often take out my frustrations. Of course, when that happens, conflicts arise. I shouldn't expect anything different. Then, on the rare occasion that I do see my other friends, they get to hear me vent about everything going on in my life. I feel like I have been a burden to those I love so dearly, and it kills me to think that the few people who mean the world to me have been brought down by me more than anything else lately. And seriously, for those of you at school who may read this, I really want to know how I can start being a better friend for you. Please just tell me, because it's so much easier when I don't have to guess.

Secondly, I want to enjoy life. That's not to say I haven't at all this semester--I've had my share of fun times going to the apple orchard, dancing to Asian rap, playing Scrabble, attending reunions, and hosting tea parties--but it's always been with a tinge of bitterness that is derived from the overwhelming state of being too internally focused and not loving like I should.

Third, if I hope to change these things, I can no longer view any of the numerous dimensions of my current life as burdens. I have spent the last few weeks with my thought processes going in circles. Finally, I'll arrive at a conclusion...only to realize the next day that I was so totally wrong. This isn't working. I understand now that I have no idea what I'm doing or what I should be doing, but I'm here, and this is the perfect place for me right now. I need to step back and surrender it all to God, because I'm getting nowhere by myself.

To those I've neglected, including my God whom I know I haven't been trusting, I'm sorry, I love you, and please just slap me if I ever do this again.

Moving on up

I only have about ten minutes to write, and I didn't even plan on writing at all but figured I should, so here I go, having no idea what I'm going to say...

This year has been interesting. I came back expecting things to be similar to how they were before--not quite the same as people's roles have changed and all my friends aren't living in the same place as me anymore, but still similar. I was pretty taken aback by the drastic differences. I've finally realized now the difference a summer can make. On Sunday, it suddenly struck me that I cannot approach my relationships as just being resumed from last year--I've changed, and so has everyone else. I almost need to step back, reevaluate, and start from nearly the beginning in re-getting to know everyone, even the people closest to me. It's an odd feeling; it was quite disconcerting at first, but now that I think I've got a better idea of what I'm doing, it's not a bad thing.

I've also been hit lately with how young I am. I'm 18. I live on a college campus which, by definition, holds some of American's youngest adults, and I'm still younger than most of them. At the same time, I feel really old. Last year I only worried about classes and focused on building relationships with those whom I lived with. This year, I've abruptly had three part-time jobs thrust upon me, and I'm leading a group of freshmen. What happened? I can't do this! Yet I am. I'm not sure I like growing up. Growing, sure, is a good thing; growing up, not so much.

If this sounds like a complaint, it's not meant as such. It's more observation than anything else. Well, with that, I'm not sure what else to say.

Tis so sweet

Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus

Just to take him at his word

Just to rest upon his promise

Just to know, Thus saith the Lord

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust him

How I've proved him o'er and o'er

Jesus, Jesus precious Jesus

Oh for grace to trust him more

Normally I like to post my own thoughts and ideas in my blogs, but in the case of these past two weeks, Louisa Stead, who wrote this song, says it fare more concisely than I ever could. There's so much I could say about camp, about Terra Firma in general, about this first week of classes, about what I've been learning--but it would take significantly more time than I currently have. I'll cover a couple highlights.

At camp, I found it interesting that God was trying to teach me some of the exact same things that he was trying to teach me at camp last year. Part of me found this frustrating--I STILL haven't learned. Simultaneously, it was comforting; though I'm stubborn and slow, he hasn't given up on me.

Camp was fantastic. I kept having one revelation about God after another, getting to know him more each day. Thus it wasn't surprising that coming back to school combined with getting sick left me feeling somewhat estranged from God and the closeness I had only a couple days before. On Saturday night, sick as I was, I went for a walk to get out and talk to God for a while. I told him of my disappointment and asked him to teach me something new about himself every day, then pondered the fact that God is so unfathomably awesome that I could discover something new about him every day of my life and there would still be more left unknown. Sitting in church Sunday morning, God told me, to both my chagrin and delight, that he's ALWAYS teaching me something new--I just have to open my eyes and look for it. Since then, he keeps proving that even in the little situations, he knows what's best for me.

Caley in Real Life

I've seen the movie Dan in Real Life about five times, plus or minus one. There's one part in the first half of the movie where one of the characters asks Marie to describe how her perfect day would be. Each time, it causes me to contemplate what would comprise my perfect day, but I never fail to remain clueless. What makes a day perfect? New experiences or old ones? Friends or family? Relaxing or going on an adventure? Europe, Asia, Africa...or home? Ideally, it'd contain all these; but alas, no 24-hour period, even a perfect one, can.

Last night, as I lie in bed, I decided, as paradoxical as it sounds, that the perfect day is actually not perfect at all. It can be one of an infinite number of combinations of normal situations rather than extraordinary experiences. With that said, I think the past two days have been perfect.

Yesterday did not begin well. In a rush to get ready for breakfast and Sherpa training, I spilled wet coffee grounds all over my newly made quilt, lost my keys and ID card, forgot to bring my books and paper to training, and spilled coffee all over the table at breakfast--including my pants and poor Megan's binder and folder. Not too great of a morning, right? Yet, miraculously, everything turned out okay. My good friend (and now hero) Mandie found my Tide stick so the coffee stain could be removed successfully from my quilt, everyone at breakfast helped me clean my spilled coffee, and at lunch I found my keys and ID. And if the simple rectification of my unfortunate situations wasn't enough to brighten my mood, I had the delightful opportunity of spending time praying with Mandie before training for the day started. To top it off, I got to spend the entirety of my afternoon painting signs for my Terra Firma group (yay Pacific!) and for the camp buses. I never knew painting could be so rejuvenating. Following the evening's activities, I returned to my room where I got to laugh and discuss important issues with Liz, my roommate. Afterward, we went on a very distracted expedition to Meijer, at Frosted Mini Wheats, and watched Asian shows till three in the morning. It was after all that that I went to bed and thought to myself, "Today was perfect." Why was it perfect? I got to spend it with three of my favorite people. I learned a lot. I laughed a lot. I painted. I accomplished a lot, but relaxed a lot. I loved a lot. 

Today was perfect again. Today almost seemed like an extension of yesterday. After getting up at ten, I started reading the first chapter of my Spanish book, got ready for the day, did devotions with Liz, watched more Asian TV all afternoon, visited and had coffee with Mandie, and spend the night with fellow Sherpas. We talked, read from Mark 8-11, sang, and prayed. I love that there are so many wonderful, encouraging people in my life. I couldn't have asked for a better, or more perfect, beginning to my year.

One thing's for sure: Sherpa training does NOT leave me with the ability to write decently. I just wanted to post something anyway saying how wonderful it is being back in Michigan. The rest of this summer did not allow me to relax nearly as much as I've done this past week. I slept in, ate ice cream, went to the beach, got sunburn, visited friends and family, played Scrabble, watched movies, celebrated birthdays, explored playgrounds, decorated a mailbox, and even read a book. Contrasting the rest of the week, today was crazy. Sherpa training began with 12 hours of information overload. Although I agree with the many comments I overheard about how long the day was, I'd say overall I enjoyed it. It's awesome to see the faculty's enthusiasm for the Terra Firma program, to interact with the other Sherpas, and simply to be back on campus. Beside all that, we got to end the day by painting pictures--how fun is that?! It just suddenly hit me how exhausted I am, so I will write more some time in the next couple weeks after new student move-in, camp, and everything else that's occurring in the process.

In the words of Jack's Mannequin...

I'm ready. I leave in just over a week and a half. It's such a short time, it's really not that bad, and I've gotten through the rest of the summer just fine. Now, though, more than ever, I'm filled with such an intense sense of anticipation that it seems like I should be moving out momentarily. A week ago, I was so worried about getting everything done on time. I had to pack, read a book, write a paper, finish one of my projects, and make a big back-to-school Target trip...all while getting my wisdom teeth out, recovering, and working. I still have quite a bit to accomplish, but I did virtually all my packing on Saturday (minus clothing of course), went to Target today, and have been working on everything else so that my list has greatly decreased in length. To top it off, everyone I know is finishing their summer jobs, internships, vacations, etc., and I'm here. I'm ready for Michigan, for the familiar faces of those I lived with for nine months, for hugs, for community, for walking around campus, for being on my own, for carrying around a backpack, for dodging goose droppings wherever I go, for new opportunities, and for memories that will be revived the second that I return. This year will be different. Many adjustments will need to be made. This year is going to be challenging, and I'm a little nervous, but I'm ready.