Crossroads

Life is funny right now.

I'm at a crossroads. Somewhere between the excitement of the future and wishing life had a backspace button; perched cozily at the start of my last year of college.

My. Last. Year...What?!

It's been three years since my first week of college, but I remember that week clearly- I was scared, excited and nervous about leaving the comfortable life I had at home. I wish I could go back to my dorm room and hold that girl in my arms and tell her not to be afraid.

There is so much I would say to her; to freshman year Ellie.

I would tell my homesick self that mom and dad are a phone call away, that I didn't have to be a hero by trying not to call them. I would tell my lonely self that it gets better, that the girls I met that week would become my best friends. I would tell myself that the 'freshman 15' is a real thing, but to eat that slice of pizza at 1 a.m. anyway, well, because college. I would tell my terrified self that transferring after freshman year isn't the end of the world, that starting over will be hard- but you'll get through just fine.

I would tell her that the next four years would be the best years yet.

I would tell her that college will become home and these friends would become family.
I would tell her not to take life too seriously, to soak it in, that these years will fly by.
I would tell her to read more books, drink more coffee, love others recklessly, journal more.
I would tell her to cherish conversations, roommates and late nights and dance parties.
I would tell her to laugh more and worry less; to live abundantly.

I would tell her that the next few years would be full of growth, change and unexpected plot twists. I would tell her that it would involve heartbreak and confusion and it wouldn't be easy.
But I would remind her that she is strong and brave and can do hard things.
I would tell her that life is messy but it gets better.
I would remind her not to worry about things she can't control.
I would tell her to lean on others and become dependent on the Lord.

I would tell her that that God is good, always.

I remember that first week of college vividly. But I blinked, and now I'm starting my senior year on Monday. I'm not too sure where the time went, but it sure went fast, and now I'm just here searching for a pause button. 

If you find one, let me know. 

Regardless, I'm reminding myself to hold on tightly to these moments, knowing that in a year from now I will long for the security of this place, this town and these people.The most common question I am asked these days sounds like "What are your plans after graduation" to which I timidly respond "I'm not sure." Maybe one day I'll seriously consider that question, and I'll start a resumé and wear things besides t-shirts.

But today, I'll spend too much time with my friends and probably forget to do homework and drink too many Cookout milkshakes. Because I'm in college, and I can.

Breathe, soak it in. One more year.

"But let us get one thing straight: the best years of our life are not behind us. They're part of us and they are set for repetition as we grow up and move to New York and away from New York and wish we did or didn't live in New York." -Marina Keegan, The Opposite of Loneliness

Full

I started my year by reading Shauna Niequest's book, Bittersweet, where she so gracefully introduced me to a new concept that rocked my world this year. Read her book, so it can rock your world, too. She writes:

“The idea of bittersweet is changing the way I live, unraveling and re-weaving the way I understand life. Bittersweet is the idea that in all things there is both something broken and something beautiful, that there is a moment of lightness on even the darkest of nights, a shadow of hope in every heartbreak, and that rejoicing is no less rich even when it contains a splinter of sadness. ‘It’s the practice of believing that we really do need both the bitter and the sweet, and that a life of nothing but sweetness rots both your teeth and your soul. Bitter is what makes us strong, what forces us to push through, what helps us earn the lines on our faces and the calluses on our hands. Sweet is nice enough, but bittersweet is beautiful, nuanced, full of depth and complexity. Bittersweet is courageous, gutsy, audacious, earthy.”

As the school year came to a close yesterday, I am grateful for time to rest and reflect this morning on everything that has happened this year. So I sit in my comfy plaid chair in the corner of my room, overwhelmed with emotion and gratitude for everything this year has given and taken away from me. The school year ended a little differently then it began in August, and one thing is for sure- this past year was a whole lot of bittersweet.

It was bitter when getting out of bed in the morning was hard and when times were really really tough. It was bitter when tears trumped smiles and life was dull. It was bitter when exhaustion lingered among the busyness of life; when I had nothing left to give- when I felt empty.

But this morning I feel full, because this year was so sweet too. It was full of strengthened friendships and new experiences. It was full of adventure and opportunity; full of good books and better conversations. Life was sweet when light beat darkness; when I was reminded time and time again that Jesus always wins. 

As I look at the past year and forward to the next one, I realize that only a few things are constant in life, and one of those is change. Change is challenging and confusing, but I'm convinced that change is good. I'll be the first to admit that I am not always a fan of change- it can often be uncomfortable. It can and will shake your world; and when things start to settle, change likes to shake things up again, because change can wreck your world for better or for worse.

But I've learned this past year that change means growth. Growth, too, is constant. And good. Growth means getting better, expanding, maturing. It means working toward bigger things; it means flourishing and thriving; seeking and learning. Growth means becoming a better version of yourself, cultivating goodness in your life and the lives of others. Sometimes growth requires seeking change in your life. It isn't always easy, but we need change to grow, and we should embrace these two things- even when life is bitter and sweet all at the same time.

This year was full of a lot of things- both bitter and sweet. But I feel full, too, as this school year comes to an end. My hope is that change would continue to be abundant in your life just as it has been in mine.

Change and growth are guaranteed and constant.
But so is Jesus, and I'll rejoice in that.

"Anything can happen in a year. Broken down, shattered things can be repaired in a year. Hope can grow in a year, after a few seasons of lying dormant." - Bittersweet, Shauna Niequist 

the battle

"There's a 50% chance that you will struggle with anxiety & depression again in your lifetime," my doctor told me in January as I uneasily shifted on the doctor's table, the paper lining on the table crunching underneath the weight of my body.

Just what every 21-year-old girl wants to hear, right?

I'm convinced that I have been a worrier since the day I was born. I am not quite sure where it stemmed from, but as I grew older this rooted deep inside me and at some point blossomed into what is described as "anxiety"- and with this usually comes depression, and vice versa.

"Anxiety and depression usually go hand in hand, but you already know that" my doctor said, as we discussed the illness that crept into my life during high school.

Anxiety & depression are hard to explain to someone who has never battled the illness before. It is an internal (and sometimes external) struggle between happiness & angst; joy & sorrow. For me, it comes in waves. Negativity swoops in like a bird on its prey, and lies swarm me like mosquitoes in the summertime. It starts deep down in the depth of my soul and works its way to the outside, suffocating my happiness while attempting to steal my joy.

It. Sucks. But I don't want your pity- that is not my intention. My intention is to be real and honest and spread some light on an issue that is otherwise kept in the dark.

For years I have believed lies that I am not loved, that I am alone, that I am not enough. For years I have blamed my self for the way I was feeling, unable to accurately describe my emotions to others- mostly in fear of the reaction I would receive from my peers. For years I have been left frustrated, discouraged and baffled by the illness that has crept its way back into my life time and time again, relentless in an attempt to suck the life out of my spirit.

Ashamed by the label of the illness and confused about treatment options, I kept quiet about my feelings. But now, I will break my silence & I will become vulnerable in hopes that you would do the same, because I know that I am not alone in this. I am not a doctor, a psychiatrist, or a therapist. I never will be, nor will I ever fully understand this illness and the crippling affect it has on the mind- but I do know this:

Counseling is great. I promise. I want to shout it from the rooftops. Seeking professional help is not something to be ashamed of. You are human, you have emotions. And most of the time, therapists can help. They have ears, too. And sometimes, that is all we need.

I am not alone. You aren't, either. We are amidst a society where mental illness is prevalent but silence still prevails. I know I am not the only twentysomething year old who has struggled and sometimes still struggles with anxiety & depression. I will not let fear of negative reaction stop me from sharing my story, because this illness is real and serious and debilitating.

God is still good. So, so, soooo good. Every day, all the time. I recognize that this illness is a constant spiritual battle- a push and pull between demons and angels, battling to win me over. But I have seen the Lord win time and time again, and I have hope and confidence that he will continue to fight for me.

Blogger Jon Acuff recently said "Statistics are a prison if you let them be"- and I will not settle for the statistics about anxiety & depression; I will not merely accept that this illness is my fate. I will fight for my joy, knowing that with a healthy dose of sunshine, exercise, and of course, Jesus, that I can and I will conquer this. 

I will not be defined by anxiety & depression.
I will not let my bad days taint my great life.
I will not surrender to my circumstances.
I will not let this illness steal my joy.

I will continue to seek counsel for this illness.
I will thrive in this day & the life that the Lord has put in front of me.
I will pray for healing and restoration of my mind and spirit.
I will have hope that I will overcome this fully.

I will not settle for valleys when I am standing beside mountaintops.

Colorado Adventures

  

       On Sunday night, my good friend Lucy and I boarded a plane to Denver, CO- with (accidental) matching luggage, cameras and multiple books in tow. We were headed to visit our friend Jessica who had moved to Golden, CO in August; eager to see her and the place she now calls home. We threw around the idea of going to Colorado for our spring break about a month or two ago, and soon after we finally committed. We didn't have any set plans for the four days that we would be taking up residency in Jessica's living room; not one single concrete idea on what we would do once we landed in Colorado. But with our plane tickets in hand and adventure on the horizon, we were Colorado bound. 

We arose on Monday morning, dropped Jessica off at work and decided that we would head to the slopes. I am an elementary skier at best; struggling on the Blues as teeny tiny children zoomed past me on their teeny tiny skis. "Pizza, french fries; pizza, french fries" I kept repeating to myself as I moved my skis back and forth to those positions that I learned about 10 years ago in ski school. But I am a ski school dropout- and that was evident in the midst of my two ungraceful spills. Skiing was fun and frustrating and exhausting all at the same time. That night we headed back to Golden, hangry (state of anger caused by hunger) as ever and chowed down on the most delicious pizza that I had ever tasted. As Lucy said after my day on the slopes- "pizza failed you on the slopes but redeemed itself that night." And I had never heard anything more true.

The next few days were the best medicine for what has been a busy semester so far. We had the freedom to do whatever we wanted, thanks to Jessica's silver Volkswagen Bug and her suggestions for good places to go/eat. Lucy and I both love reading so naturally on our second day we had a slow morning sitting, reading and talking at the Windy Saddle Cafe in downtown Golden. It was sort of a snowy morning; it was peaceful and the coffee was great. Lucy and I shared a unique muffin (banana, avacado & spinach) as we chatted about the books we were currently reading. We went on a long drive through the mountains and ran into Denver that afternoon for a quick trip to the REI flagship store. Later that day we explored Red Rocks Amphitheater and made dinner at the house. On Wednesday the three of us headed to Boulder, my new favorite place. We ate good food at Lindsey's Deli and walked up and down the streets and in and out of stores that caught our eye. We wandered around a large paper shop full of funny greeting cards and delicate stationary. I sure do love that town. Thursday was our last day in CO so before our flight departed we reverted back to city girls and frolicked around the mile high city before our flight left at 5. It was four days full of exploring, adventure, good conversation and really good friends. 

Before I left for the trip on Sunday, I ran to the bookstore to pick up a book I had been dying to read- Wild by Cheryl Strayed. I couldn't put it down on the plane and picked it back up that morning in the coffee shop. I had heard both good and bad things about this book so I was eager to dive into it. After just a few pages, I was hooked. Strayed's writing style is right up my alley- raw, real and descriptive. She doesn't hold anything back and is bluntly honest about her past mistakes and failed relationships. She hikes the Pacific Coast Trail in an attempt lose herself on the trail, but ends up finding herself amidst the dangerous conditions and physically straining venture. She I identified with Strayed in many ways and I was thankful that she so openly shared her emotions.  I cannot say enough good things about this book, and it truly deserves its own post. I have always loved reading, but I felt like I could never find the time to finish a novel. A goal of mine for this year was to read a little bit every single day, and I have been loving it. Thanks to Amazon, I always have a good book waiting for me once I finish the current one. Reading keeps me sane, and I really enjoy identifying with authors; deciding what I like and don't like about books. Reading is my escape and I continue to find out more about myself when I have my nose in a good book.

This trip was the perfect excuse to grab a book (or three- I was feeling ambitious) and retreat to one of my favorite places- Colorado. I could go on and on about all the good things that this trip encompassed- there was rest and wandering and so much goodness squeezed into four days. There is something so wild and free about buying a plane ticket somewhere without having any plans; evoking the adventure in me that lies mostly dormant while I am at school. I highly recommend trying it- you won't be disappointed. 

Colorado, I miss you already!

be still

This morning I awoke after pressing snooze on my alarm too many times to count. I rolled out of bed, took a hot shower and made coffee- but it didn't take long for today’s impending schedule to stifle my peaceful morning. I know the routine all too well- class, work, study, and socializing when I get the chance. I had only been awake for ten minutes and my mind was already foggy with the thought of conquering another day. Tuesdays are usually my busy day, but today was different. This morning was different. I had two hours until my first commitment. 

So, I sat.

I sat on my favorite comfy chair in the corner of my room. I sat for two hours as I read and wrote and opened my bible. I sat alone with my laptop closed, my phone further than an arm’s length away. I sat as I sifted through thoughts that had been pushed to the back of my mind- as I do so often with things I don’t have the energy process. I sat thankful and joyful. I sat alone. I sat for a while. 

I had a conversation this afternoon with my roommate, Anna, about time alone and what it should look like in our lives compared to what society considers acceptable. We were talking about the sacredness of time alone when she said something that carries so much weight within me- "we don't know how to be still." And she has a point. It's true. I forget how to be still all the time. My phone is usually glued to my palm and I prioritize time with people over time with myself because I love being in the presence of friends. But we dwell in a society where stillness is endangered. We fill our free time with conversation and stimulation and if we aren't careful, stillness will become extinct.

In high school, fear of missing out crippled my ability to be alone. And if I’m being honest, sometimes it still does. No one wants to miss out on the action of life, and in college, it is challenging to ignore the fact that there is always something to do. It is hard to admit that my introvert tendencies are dominating my extrovert norm- but I have learned recently that time alone, stillness, is necessary for me to thrive.
Today was the perfect reminder of that.

Community is so good. Friends are great.

Companionship is a gift in this life. 

But I promise time alone is scared and beautiful and peaceful. 

It is the recharge we need to get through these hectic days that fill our time on earth. 

Cling to the stillness in your day, friends!

[source]

Winter

I'm a sucker for winter days.
Cold, rainy, winter days.
Cold days where alarm clocks don't ring and pajamas are acceptable attire.
Rainy days where obligations aren't present, but heated blankets and  Blackbird coffee are.
Days where staying in bed until noon is encouraged, simply because you can.

Mornings that are filled with muffins, good conversation and Ellie Holcomb's new CD.
Afternoons where the house is messy with blankets as a movie plays in the living room.
Nights where friends congregate to eat pizza and laugh while assembling a 1,000 piece puzzle.
The past two days have been just that. We have been out of class for a minor ice storm, and  it has felt like two Sundays squeezed right into the middle of the week- two days where rest has been abundant- and it has been good.

I thrive in this weather; maybe it's the midwestern girl that is still tucked somewhere inside me. I live for winter days where boots are used for what they were made for, where wool socks and scarves warm my body. I appreciate real winter days because they don't come often in the south, but this season I am grateful that they have been frequent. Winter days are whispers of heaven; they are pieces of perfection. Days like these are the best medicine for weariness, for tiredness, for life.

The sunshine is slowly returning this morning as icicles melt off of the power lines and trees. Tomorrow we will return to class, work, life. Winter days sneak in to Milledgeville but are quickly chased out by warm days spent on the front porch doing homework.  I'll appreciate those days when they come, too. But today I will continue to rest, to rejoice in this winter day. These days are slow and pure, refreshing and good for my soul.

Rest

Yesterday I didn't leave my apartment.

I spent all day between the walls of this home, and it sounds a little depressing- but I promise it was glorious. I slept in, cleaned my room, worked on homework, drank too much coffee. I opened my windows, lit a candle, and journaled. I napped once, then napped again. Friends filled my living room and gathered around a monopoly board, playing for hours. My friends left, but I stayed.

It was dreamy. I found something this weekend that I've been missing for quite some time- rest.

On Friday I spent two and a half hours at lunch with my good friend Krissy. We caught up on each other's lives after an exciting winter break (she's getting married!!!) and giddily shared thoughts on life as we ate tacos. And just like always, she spoke wisdom into my life. For that, I am so thankful. Among good conversation, we talked about rest and what it looks like in both of our lives.

I'll be the first to admit that rest is something I lack in my life because I don't allow it on an everyday basis. So often I believe lies that tell me I can only find rest when I go home, when I am on a break from school or on a vacation. I start to believe that there is a time and place where rest is allowed, but most days I keep it locked up when life gets crazy because society tells us we aren't supposed to slow down.

Krissy then did what she does so beautifully- she reminded me of this truth from the gospel of Matthew:

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

Hearing this verse was just what I needed. A reminder that rest does not come with a location or a time frame. It comes in Christ alone, it comes when we hand over our burdens because this life is messy and yes, draining. It is a fact that we are weary and burdened by this world, but we can rejoice in that because Jesus lifts our load!

Good, refreshing, soulful rest comes when we stop trying to lock it up and save it just for beach trips or breaks from school. 

Good, refreshing, soulful rest comes when we allow it to consume our everyday lives.
It comes when we look to Christ for peace because if we are being honest- sometimes our lives can be anything but peaceful.

I find rest everyday in the little things, too. I find rest in intentional conversations with good friends. I find rest in my comfy yellow, green and blue plaid chair that sits in the corner of my room by a bookshelf. I find rest in lazy weekends where I watch too much Netflix. I find it in good music and naps and long walks.

Life is crazy, but rest is good.

Happy Sunday! I hope you find rest today.

Take a moment- United Pursuit

home.

"The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned." -Maya Angelou

Home is a physical place where you reside, temporarily or permanently. It's a house, or an apartment; a physical structure that has walls and if you're lucky, maybe a fireplace. It's a place that you come back to at the end of a long day; where you kick off your shoes and lay your head. It's where your home team is, waiting for you when you arrive. Home is where your dog is, where your mom is and where your "people" are. Home is where a warm bed has your name written on it and where your favorite coffee mugs reside. 

Home is a state of mind, too- It is where your heart is, somewhere that you can retreat to; where you can simply be still. Home is where you feel safe and loved and comfy cozy. It is where your childhood memories live and where nostalgia lingers. It is where you feel a sense of belonging that no one can take away from you. Home is where grace dwells and forgiveness is abundant; It is an emotional state that you yearn for when you aren't there. It is where your mind goes when you are weary. Home is where your heart wanders to when it's longing for something familiar. 

I believe that home is a perfect combination of a place and a state of mind. I think it looks a little different for everyone. Some people find home in the eyes of someone else, and some people find it at the street address where they have spent their whole life. I find it in a little bit of both, halfway between a place and a state of mind; the most wonderful combination that joins together to make my heart overflow. 

As I leave to go back to college this weekend after a month long winter break, I am reminded that I am lucky enough to call two places home. These two places balance the two ingredients of a place and a state of mind to make the best recipe that I've ever tasted- home. Two homes that both hold my favorite coffee mugs in the cabinets.

My two homes are different but seemingly the same, because they both give me that feeling- the one where you walk through the door after being away and smile because you are full, satisfied and content. I am leaving one home- my permanent home- where I found rest this month, where my family is and where my dog greets me with kisses every morning. I'm heading back to my other home- where my community lives beside me, where my two special roommates encourage me and where spring semester awaits me with the opportunity for a fresh beginning.

It's a bittersweet thing- leaving home. Its a necessary evil. I do believe that sometimes you have to leave home to realize what home truly means to you. But the special thing about home is that even when you leave it, it never really leaves you.

 “Everybody has a home team: It’s the people you call when you get a flat tire or when something terrible happens. It’s the people who, near or far, know everything that’s wrong with you and love you anyways. These are the ones who tell you their secrets, who get themselves a glass of water without asking when they’re at your house. These are the people who cry when you cry. These are your people, your middle-of-the-night, no-matter-what people.”

-Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet