college.

I love this time of year in Milledgeville. School is winding down, the weather is perfect, and afternoon walks are frequent. I can walk down the street at any given time and I'm guaranteed to find my friends sitting on their front porch, talking or throwing a frisbee in the front yard. That has truly been the essence of my college experience- being surrounded by friends, disregarding schoolwork, and living walking distance to everything important.

It's hard to accept that my days left in Milledgeville are numbered, and that soon I'll be packing up my room and my favorite memories to go home and then on to Colorado. It's strange to think I've already been in college for four years and here in Milledgeville for three- and stranger to think that when I leave this time, I won't be coming back. It is bittersweet leaving this place. Milledgeville has become my home. I did not love it here at first, but I sure am glad that hearts change and how mine has grown to love this tiny town and the people here.

It is hard for me to put into words how deeply I love Milledgeville. How deeply I've loved my college experience. How deeply I love my community. How deeply I love what life looks like right now. But I think the best kinds of feelings are those that are hardest to put into words.

Someone asked me today how I felt about leaving this place so soon. And I quickly responded "I need more time." I need more time. With these people, in this place. Just a little more time. More time for conversations at Blackbird Coffee, more time for friendships to be formed, more time for pranks to be played. More time for nights spent sitting on the front porch listening to someone strum the guitar. More time for game nights where competition turns hostile and then back to fun. More time for movie nights on the lawn and belly laughs and Bible studies. More time living on the same block as all of my friends. More time to hang out when I should be in class.

More time to soak it all in. I just need more time. 

But if we are honest, this isn't the truth. I don't need more time because I've had plenty of time. An abundance of time. Plenty of time with these people, in this place. Enough time to realize what's important in life and what isn't. Enough time to grow and change.

Plenty and enough time to feel full and satisfied and ready. 

I wouldn't trade these years for anything- they say you "find yourself" in college- and I believe that to be true. But I think more importantly, I've found what I want my life to look like forever- a life full of good friends, a life with community, a life that is abundant. A life where good outweighs the bad. A life that makes me laugh, that is full of joy, adventure and love.

I know that life will look different next year and the transition won't be easy. But I am thankful that these years have shown me how life is supposed to be lived, and that I can leave this place with the best memories anyone could ask for.

I am thankful that I love this place so much that saying goodbye is so hard.
I am thankful that this town will always have a chunk of my heart.

I am thankful that I will never be the same after being here.

College went by in a blink.
What I would give to do it all again.

The Good Life

Six weeks of college left until graduation. What?! Oh, how good this year has been. I've changed and grown this year in ways I never would have expected. It has been a good year. And for that, I am thankful.

But as the end of senior year approaches, I feel like life has been thrown into full throttle. This chapter of my life is winding down and there's no turning back. The days left of college are numbered and I am struggling to focus on the present, as the future lies near on the horizon.

I recently watched a talk given by author Annie Downs. She is wise and I admire her raw honestly and genuine ability to relate to her audience. She talked about waiting for the future so much that we fail to realize the gift of the present. That night her words struck me in an uncomfortable way. I teared up as I heard her say this statement, convicted and sad that I haven't been living life like this recently- "We need to live in a chronic state of "THIS is the good life." This is the good life. What if this is the best God has for you today? Today, it is the best he has for you." She continued by saying "Live today, live tomorrow, live next week like 'THIS is the good life'"

She has a point. And a good one, at that. The good life is the present. The good life is right now. 

The good life is today.

The good life is playing "Just Dance" in a crowded room full of friends. It's long walks down familiar sidewalks, sitting on the front porch until the sun goes down. The good life is belly laughs and conversations around a table at Chick-fil-a. It is hammocks on the back porch, laughing with roommates instead of studying. The good life is weekends in the mountains, slow mornings, driving with the windows down. The good life is community, celebrating with friends, and new adventures. The good life is spending too many hours on the couch watching movies, rainy days with no agenda, and abundant sunshine.

The good life is a glimpse of eternal life. The good life is all around me.

Exciting things are approaching- graduation, summer in Atlanta, and moving Colorado in August (pinch me!). But those times will come sooner than expected, and I know I will quickly ache for the things that I'll leave behind with college. The future hold more good things that I can ever imagine. But when you look ahead, you miss out on what is happening right in front of you. And what a tragedy it would be to look back and realize that I missed out on a good life- the good life- because I was too busy looking forward.

Here's to today, and a good life. 

The good life. 

 "So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him." -Romans 12:1

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

eucharisteo

Thanksgiving is just a few sleeps away, and it is finally my favorite time of the year. It is deep into autumn and just chilly enough here in the South to put on my warm boots and pretty scarves. 52 weeks in a year- but this one is my favorite. I love this week- the last week of November- because two seasons are colliding in one glorious week. The leaves are crunchy and the air is refreshing, but Fall is fading fast into the busy Christmas season. String lights are being hung on the light posts downtown, our stockings are dangling off the mantle in our apartment, and I just brought Christmas-y candles home from the store. There is something special about these two seasons when they collide- and it makes this week feel like the calm before the storm. (this storm is unfortunately the craziness that  precedes December 25).

As Thanksgiving is almost here, I have been thinking about what I am thankful for and what it truly means to be thankful. This summer I read one of Ann Voskamp's books, One Thousand Gifts, where she describes what life can be like when we embrace daily thanks-giving, or eucharisteo. The Greek word eucharisteo is another word that means giving thanks, and one that she used frequently in her book to describe a full, thanks-giving life. I started to learn more about eucharisteo through her book and I realized how there was room in my life for a lot more eucharisteo.

There was plenty of room for it.

Because I want to live my life without complaints pouring from my mouth. I want to be thankful for the little things, thankful for the big things and everything in between. I want to be thankful for bad days, good days, days without sunshine and days with tears. I'll be the first to admit that complaining is easy. But I don't want complaints any longer. I want to fully embrace thanksgiving, not just this week, not just on Thursday, but every day.This weekend I had the opportunity to reflect more about eucharisteo and what it has looked like in my life since this summer. I am a work in progress. I always will be, because there will always be more room for eucharisteo in my life. But I have grown to see that eucharisteo leads to a full life. 

I want my thanks to Him to overflow from my heart first and my mouth second.
I want to be full of thanks, all the time.
I want eucharisteo, all the time.

I am thankful for weekends where commitment doesn't exist, but my sweatpants and my couch do.
I am thankful for good friends who see me at my worst but love me anyway.
I am thankful for crunchy leaves, long walks and pancakes.
I am thankful for a Lord who is abundantly good, all the time.

-Ellie 

"The real problem of life is never a lack of time. The real problem of life - in my life - is lack of thanksgiving. Thanksgiving creates abundance; and he miracle of multiplying happens when I give thanks - ...it's giving thanks to God for this moment that multiplies the moments, time made enough. I am thank-full. I am time-full." -ann voskamp, one thousand gifts

freedom

It has been a hard semester. There. I said it- Finally.

Earlier in the semester, I was finding myself simply going through the motions of life, and honestly- it was awful. I felt drained emotionally and there was a time when I prayed for tears because they just wouldn't come. I couldn't even write, because there just weren't any words. There were days I felt like a robot, days without intentional conversations and days that lacked joyful occasions. I was angry, confused, doubtful, sad and bitter. I felt numb, and I hated it. Hate is a strong word, but I really hated it. I didn't feel like myself, and I did not feel okay.

The words above are hard for me to write about and even harder for me to utter out loud. Nobody likes to admit that they are not okay. There are times where bad days turn into bad weeks which can turn into bad seasons of life; and I've been learning recently that  it is okay to admit that you are not okay. 
You see, I think "okay" is relative. It looks and feels a little different to everyone. But I think that it is easy to not feel okay (unfortunately), and even easier to mask those feelings. Life is messy. But this is not a pity party-I promise this is not an excuse to mope and complain. It is raw and true and how I've felt- any maybe, how you have been feeling, too.

The good news is that I do promise there is freedom in admitting to not being okay. I really dislike owning up to fact that I am not okay- that things are not going well in my life and within my soul  because I don't want to seem negative. I don't want to complain or dump my problems on my friends.

But I have found that there is FREEDOM in being honest- with myself, with the people I surround myself with- and most importantly with Jesus. We are called to carry each others burdens and set our burdens down at the feet of Jesus, and I am guilty of neglecting this. I have just recently started opening up to my friends about how I have been feeling and there is freedom in tough conversations that examine our feelings and emotions. I have started journaling again and fervently praying for restoration of my emotions- and there is freedom in bringing these pleas to Jesus.

The the past few weeks I have been actively rising above this funk- and I know that there will be more "not okays" in my lifetime, but I fully trust and believe that there is freedom in this, and that hopefully "great" and "more than okay" will follow the "not okays." Struggles and sufferings are going to make appearances in our lives. But joy and celebration will conquer these feelings every single time, because there is freedom in Christ.

So this is my declaration of freedom-
That I will pray to be more authentic; more honest and more raw.
That I will pray more and complain less.
That I will admit when I am not okay, be grateful when I am, and rejoice in the freedom that I find in Christ either way.

It might be a bad day or a bad week, but it is not a bad life!

 I'll rejoice in that.

the biggest lie

Some mornings, I wake up at 7:00, make two cups of coffee, and stroll to work/class as I savor the aroma of the most decadent liquid on earth- and suddenly I feel like I have my whole life together. I could conquer the world with 16 ounces of caffeinated liquid flowing through my body.

Some days I even put on clothes that aren't wrinkled.
Some days I brush my hair twice.
Some days I even sit on my porch and enjoy the crisp (...usually hot) Milledgeville air.

But most days, I don't.

Most days, I roll out of bed 12 minutes before class starts, I still manage to make coffee, but there is no savoring the source of my energy, because I just don't have time.
I don't have time to iron my clothes and I don't have time to sit on my front porch and read.
It seems like I really don't have time for anything these days. 

...or is that just the biggest lie I tell myself?
I know it is.

Those four words make up the most common phrase I use. Admittedly that phrase becomes a common theme in my life.

Its so easy to compare yourself to the people around you. Multiple times a day I look at the people around me and think "How do they have time for all of those activities?!" And then reality slaps me in the face and reminds me that every person on the planet has the same amount of time in a day. How you spend your time is whats really important.

Recently I have been learning how spend and manage my time more efficiently- and it isn't easy. This society we dwell in forces us to feel the need to be busy all the time. We live in a fast paced world and I often get caught up in the hustle & bustle of life. I feel overwhelmed by my time commitments- school, work, ministry, friends- the list goes on. And I know that I can't create time- but lately, I've been learning to make time. Making time for friends, making time for Jesus, making time for ministry. Spending my time more intentionally and less selfishly.

The truth is, I do have time for a lot of things. 168 hours fill my week, buy why do I allow myself to be suffocated by the phrase "I don't have time."  As much as I  wish I could add more hours to my days, weeks and months, I can't. I have a decision to make every morning when I wake up- a decision about how I will spend my day.

How I spend my time is a conscious decision- when will I stop letting my lack of time be an excuse?

More Time- NEEDTOBREATHE

Found

As a high school girl who struggled to feel adequate in the eyes of others, I filled emptiness with alcohol and loneliness with affection from boys. I was always a "good girl"-never partied too hard and got decent grades, but I still struggled with the desires of this word. I felt like I was always searching for something deeper than the surface level friendships and relationships that were forming throughout my high school years. I was introduced to the ministry of Young Life my freshman year of high school, and the first YL meeting (or "club" as we call it) I ever attended was my first week of school. I was the new kid at the local public high school and my older sister suggested (forced) me to attend club. I hesitantly went, not knowing the impact it would have on the next 7+ years of my life.

If you are not familiar with Young Life, let me attempt to explain it to you with a little help from the YL website. To put it in simple terms, Young Life's vision and mission is to introduce adolescents to Jesus Christ and help them grow in their faith- but what Christ showed me through my leaders was immeasurably more than this. To me, YL club was about a lot more than the silly games and loud singing on Monday nights. It was more about the relationships I had formed with my Young Life leaders. Whether I knew it or not, my leaders were always walking next to me, one hand in mine and the other in Christ's. I saw my leaders everywhere. (literally everywhere). They met me where I was. They showed up at lunch and sat next to me in the cafeteria. They were there at the football games on Friday nights, and in the stands during my swim meets cheering me on. Besides my family, they were my biggest fans, and I believe they still are.

I could sit here and tell you that I ultimately found Christ while sitting on a rock next to the creek at Windy Gap on the second-to-last night of camp, while staring at the stars- but that would be a lie. Though that is when I technically proclaimed my love for Jesus, it became evident that I had seen Him in more places than just in those stars. I found Christ in my Young Life leader and now best friend Allison who unceasingly pursued me during my darkest days in high school, teaching me that God is a fun God (but not a soft God. Am I right, Allison?!) I found Christ in Ken and Janet Webb, who opened up their back porch to high school kids every Sunday night, teaching about God's grace and immeasurable love that He has for us. I found Him in my sister Caitlin, who never gave up pursuing me even when she was leading her own group of high school girls as a YL leader in college. I found Him on weekend trips to Sharptop Cove where my heart was softened to the idea of vulnerability during cabin time with my peers and leaders. And yes- I found Him there next to the creek at Windy Gap, as I tearfully surrendered my burdens to Christ because I just didn't want to walk through this life alone any longer.

More recently, I've found Him in the heart of the Rockies last summer at Frontier Ranch- a YL camp where I got to experience what walking with Christ every single day looked like. I found Christ again after my freshman year of college when He met me right where I was- when I let Him take my future and stepped back as He changed my direction.

As I begin my second year as a YL leader, I continue to find Christ through the ministry of Young Life. I find him in the seven people I am grateful to be on a team with, and I especially see Him in the 40+ people who make up our Young Life community in my area. I see Him in our area director Phil and our committee members who have been so good to us this past month. Two years later, I still find Him in my high school YL leaders as I run to them for advice and wisdom on leading high schoolers.

I love the ministry of Young Life because of the incredible role that it has played in the past seven years of my life. Without this ministry and the people who apart of it, I could not tell you where I would be with my faith, with my relationships, or with my life. I love what role this ministry plays in my life today, too, as I get to hang out with high school girls who are a whole lot cooler than I am.

But honesty, I love Jesus more than I love Young Life.  And I think that I am okay with that. Because Jesus paid it all. Jesus took my burdens, my anxiety and my emptiness. Because Jesus worked through my Young Life leaders and he is working through me as a Young Life leader right now. Because without Jesus, this ministry wouldn't even exist. Because if we don't love Jesus first, how can we love others well?
I keep finding Christ in Young Life, and as long as this ministry is alive, I know I will continue to see him in every aspect of this wonderful mission. I know Jesus rejoices in this ministry- and my hope is that we are humbly honoring Him well here on earth through Young Life.
The past 7 years YL has played a huge role in my life. I wouldn't change it for anything.
But this does not mean I find my identity in Young Life- because our identity is not found within a label, a ministry, a mission or a title- It is only found in Christ alone.

And for that, I am eternally grateful.

One Body

The past two weeks have been a whirlwind of emotion for me and the people that I am surrounded with. Shock, sadness, heartache and confusion are just a few of the many emotions that engulfed our hearts as we learned of the sad news of the passing of our friend, Julia. Though we still ache to have conversations and spend time with her, we have found peace in the fact that she is in heaven with her Jesus. This has been a challenging two weeks for all of us, and I speak for most of my friends when I say that without the love and support of each other we probably would've had a much harder time than we've had. There's a word for this love and support that we find within the people around us- and that word is community. Community is a basic concept yet it means something a little different to everyone. My favorite definition of community is simply put: a unified body of individuals. 

As the reality of this tragedy that we experienced set in hard- one thing became very apparent. We really are created for community. Scripture proves that in one of my favorite verses in the bible. Hebrews 10:24-25 sums up the concept of community beautifully- "And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching." I love the way The Message (a contemporary translation of the Bible) interprets the same verse as above by saying- "Let’s see how inventive we can be in encouraging love and helping out, not avoiding worshiping together as some do but spurring each other on, especially as we see the big Day approaching." How cool is that? Jesus wants us to have friends. He wants us to do life with the people around us. He wants us to encourage one another, meet together, worship together, laugh together and even cry together. Because lets be honest- doing those things alone just isn't that much fun.

This is what my community looks like! 

The community I have found in Milledgeville this past year has been unreal. I have found a group of people who love Jesus and each other, which is the perfect combination for intentional friendships and the community that we were created for. This year I have felt loved, appreciated and encouraged by people that I am proud to call my community. The past two weeks I watched in awe as my Young Life community of forty or so college kids (and countless people not involved in YL) stepped up in prayer and support to lift up Julia and her family. I heard the word "community" thrown around many times throughout the past two weeks, but I got a real picture of it last Monday night; as my friends were continuing to trickle back into Milledgeville to be together after we heard Julia had passed. We gathered at our fearless area director Phil's house for a meal provided by our wonderful YL committee members, who filled our stomachs with barbecue and the best strawberries I've ever tasted. But it was about much more than the food that night- as my eyes scanned the room, I couldn't help but smile as I saw pockets of joy shine through the darkness that hung over the room. I heard laughter as I watched people engage in conversations that revolved around Julia's life. I saw smiles overcome the exhaustion that many of us had been battling for many days. Isn't it great how light always shines through in the darkness? 

As the night went on I continued to watch the people around me and I began to feel more at peace with what we were all going through- because the bottom line was that none of us were going through it alone. Because we are a a unified body of individuals, one body in Christ,  a community, and that means that we hurt for each other and we rejoice for each other. It means that we spur each other on and hold each other accountable. It means that we do life together, every single day. There is just something truly special about this kind of community, and I love every minute of it. 

We have Jesus and we have each other- I'll rejoice in that!

Julia

As I sit at my computer writing this post, streams of tears trickle off my chin and my heart is heavy with sadness. Julia Tarter, a friend, fellow Young Life leader and Student Ambassador was called home to the Lord on Saturday- just six days after an accident involving her car. The three characteristics I used above only described Julia, they did not define her- and anyone who knew Julia would agree- only Jesus defined her.

I vividly remember meeting Julia about a year ago, the day before classes started. I was hanging out with my friend Erin and she said "Lets go see my roommate from last year, Julia." So in typical Milledgeville fashion we walked over to the White House, where six of our friends live. I remember sitting on the floor of Julia's perfectly Pinterest-ed room eating a grape slushie from Dairy Queen. As she danced around the room telling Erin about the exciting summer she had experienced at WinShape Camps as a counselor, joy poured out of her words and her smile. That was my first impression of Julia, and one that I will never forget.

Khloe & Kim, Halloween 2012

Even though I only had the privilege of knowing Julia for just one year, she quickly became a close friend of mine. We shared a love of coffee and talking fast. We bonded over our cute-yet-douchey environmental science professor, studying together the night before tests which really turned into us talking about things that were not at all school related. One particular night we sat on the floor of her room for a few hours talking about life, Christ, and of course, girly stuff. That night I got a true look inside Julia's heart and found only one thing- Jesus. Her love for Christ was evident in every single thing she did. Even on Halloween, when we had the brilliant idea to dress up as the Kardashians. She almost backed out at the last minute- because she was scared she was going to send the wrong message to people by dressing up as a trashy reality TV "celebrity." Well, Julia, I think you made a great Kim K.


She embodied 1 John 3:18 (Let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth) in her everyday life, whether it be showing the gospel to her Baldwin girls or loving on her Phi Mu's, or being a light to our Student Ambassador Team. She put her heart and soul into everything that she was involved with, and that is what made Julia so special. You see, everyone that met Julia loved her deeply. That is probably why the news of her accident spread like fire. Immediately people began rallying around Julia with prayers. In six days, I witnessed people come together at the feet of Jesus like I had never seen before. I saw a closer community form within our friends, and I saw weeping friends begging for miracles. We knew that this would be a win-win situation- either Julia would be restored on this earth and she would continue to eat Nutella and jam to T-Swift with all of us; or she would be fully restored in heaven. Our prayers were that she would be fully healed, and on Saturday morning, she was. She is now home. Not home in 221, that was her temporary home. She's in her eternal home, and I really hope that there is burlap and light blue paint in heaven.


I cry because there are so many things I wish I could say to her right now. I cry for her family, and her sisters who lost their baby girl. I cry for the Baldwin High School girls who lost a beloved leader. I cry for her friends, who can no longer share a cup of coffee with her. I cry for our Young Life area, because we have lost a light in our community and a beautiful voice in our Sunday night leadership worship time. I cry because I already miss her stank face and 221 pride. I cry as I struggle to write about Julia in the past tense.

But, I also I smile. I smile because Julia is teaching Jesus her dance moves in heaven right now! I smile when I think about the hundreds of lives she has touched during her 20 years on earth, including mine. I smile, because this tragedy has pointed so many people towards Christ, and Julia would love knowing that. I smile because Julia's joy is still present on this earth. I smile because I saw the face of Jesus Christ in Julia every single day. And now, she gets to look at Jesus Christ every single day, face to face, for ETERNITY!

I smile when I think about Jesus meeting Julia at the gates of eternity with a hug and a cup of coffee, saying "Well done, my good and faithful servant."

Julia, if you're reading this in heaven (do they have iPhones up there? I sure hope so.) Sorry for sleeping in your bed last week and not washing the sheets.
Also, Julia- because you touched my life, I will never be the same. Thank you for that.
Love you, sweet Julia girl. 

#summerinmilly

Things I've learned during my #summerinmilly:

1. Summer classes stink. Seriously, who even thought that summer classes would be a good idea? Did they hate the world? Why did I think summer class would be a good idea? The only good thing that came out of this summer online statistics course is that I spent a lot of time (money) at Starbucks studying and listening to lots of Green River Ordinance. Also, I am done with math forever. Victory!

2. I love home. Being in Milledgeville this summer has made me realize how much I love being home, too. The weekends I spent at home this summer included time with my incredible sister before she moved to Ohio. I spent a lot of time hanging out with my mom, and a lot of time watching golf with my dad. I just really love him. I have been incredibly blessed with a father who loves me like he does. I have realized this summer that I am like him in so many ways. We share the same love for ice cream and adventure. He has been a constant encouragement throughout this summer.

3. I really love Milledgeville. I loved it before too, but anyone who has stayed here in the summer knows what I'm talking about. I love $2 Tuesdays at Asian Bistro, a lot of down time to watch movies, and the Mocals. I love the afternoon rainstorms and mini adventures that include friends and sunflowers. Milledgeville has the best sunsets in the world. Seriously. Summer in Milledgeville has helped me appreciate the little things in life, like afternoon slushies and walks through campus. This place has become home to me. There is something special about this town!

4. I love driving. I think I have put more miles on my car this summer than all the years I've had my car combined. But it's been worth it. Driving somewhere means hopefully going to spend time with people that I love. I particularly loved my Monday morning commute from ATL back to Milledgeville. 441 is really foggy around 7:00 AM, which makes for the best sunrises. Driving also means jamming out to Ben Rector at the top of my lungs. I have yet to shatter a window.

5. I don't think my future career plans include working in an office. I don't think I am cut out for sitting at a computer for the rest of my life. I am thankful that this summer has taught me what I don't want to do with my life. There is not too much more to say about that. I'm not sure how my coworkers felt about me making snowflakes out of paper, either. Or little people out of paper clips.

6. Being alone is okay. I have always enjoyed alone time, but I became anxious at the beginning of summer about having too much alone time. I love my friends- and sometimes suffer from FOMO (fear of missing out) when I am not with them.Yes, I missed not being with all my friends this summer. But alone time was honestly the biggest gift this summer. I learned (yes, learned) how to truly relax without worrying about what everyone else is doing. I learned how to be still, content and calm with my present season of life.

7. People are kind. Like the man who filled up my gas tank on my way out of town at the Shell on N Columbia. And the police officer who didn't cite me when I rear ended a girl named Brittany. Thanks guys! You are both too kind.

8. I see Jesus here, too. I see him in the people I work with, in the few friends that were here in Milledgeville with me, and in the sunsets. I see him in the people I lead orientation with. It was hard for me to grasp that I wouldn't be serving at a camp this summer, that I wouldn't be seeing Jesus in the faces of those campers and staff. But guess what? He is everywhere in the summer, not just at camps. How cool!

Well, two root canals, one summer class, 10 forty hour workweeks, one car accident, a week in Ohio, a new apartment and 4 orientations later....summer is almost over. I survived #summerinmilly, and I am thankful for that.

Friends, come back to Milledgeville. I have missed you!

what I love about sunday

I'm convinced that heaven is a lot like Sunday. And, I hope it is. Because Sundays are for worship & coffee. Sundays are for naps. Sundays are for quality time with family & friends. Sundays are for walks with Scout & barbecue on the back porch. Sundays are for watching golf with dad & making brownies with mom. Sundays are for lake days & hammocks.

If you can't tell- Sunday is my favorite day of the week. I could list hundreds of things that I love about Sunday. Most of my Sundays look something like this- 

The [Sabbath]: is observed among Christians on Sunday, as a day of rest and worship. Oh, how thankful I am for the Sabbath. Genesis 2:2-3 explains the Sabbath- "By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done."

I am a firm believer that the Sabbath should not just be observed, but celebrated. We should rejoice in the fact that we get an entire day devoted to rest. We should take full advantage of this gift that has been given to us. God deemed this day as holy- it is divine, righteous and good; and for that, I will thank Him.

How grateful I am to have a day to recharge; a day to recover from the past week and a day to prepare for the next. I live for lazy Sundays that include quality time with family & friends. 

How grateful I am for today, Sunday, a day that was well spent eating lunch with a good friend, wandering around a bookstore, and watching a movie with my parents. 

That's what I love about Sunday. 

money ain't everything, honey

I don't know why that I want that post title to be read in a southern accent, but I do. And if you know me, you would know that I don't have anything close to a southern accent. And if you know me really well, you would know that I am a worrier. Ever since I can remember, I have worried about everything and anything. I vividly remember being on the playground in first grade and being called a "worrywart." I cried about it to my mom after school. I question why I was upset about being called that name, but I also question why I was called that name to begin with. What does a first grader have to worry about, anyway? 

Growing up (I say "growing up" like I am an old lady-I still think I have some growing up to do, but anyways...) I worried about everything. I worried about my house catching on fire, terrorist attacks, plane crashes, etc, and I really worried about thunderstorms. So yes, apparently I am a worrier. And according to the first grade friend (or foe?) whose name I will protect- I am a worrywart: a person who tends to dwell on difficulty or troubles. 

As I got older, my unrealistic worries turned into realistic anxieties; and realistic anxieties turned into anxiety. (more on that later). I could list off a hundred things that could lead me to worry-ridden angst, but #1 on the list would definitely be money. The word makes me cringe, and yes-sometimes cry. Though my family was hit hard by the economy crash (explosion? atomic bomb?) in 2009, we have never gone without necessities. I have been #blessed with a sturdy roof over my head, food on the table and family/dogs by my side. I know that my family has been more than fortunate, even when my dad was out of work for a while. But the height of this money-triggered anxiety was freshman year of college while I was at the University of Dayton. I was constantly worrying about the out-of-pocket expenses and student loans due to the private university's tuition. It started consuming my thoughts and by the end of the year it was tainting my freshman year experience. The decision was made to transfer to an in-state college to ease the financial burden on my family and my future of paying off loans. 

Which leads me to this- strong work ethic has always been encouraged and exhibited in my family, and my dad is a great example of a hard working man- just as my mom is an example of a hard working woman. And honestly, my decision to stay and work in Milledgeville this summer was mostly fueled by money as well. Having a full time job (working in the Financial Aid office...oh the irony) gives me security for the future. It relieves my money related stresses- temporarily. But does money really leave me satisfied? Does it really give me the safety and security that I am looking for? No, only Jesus does. I've had a lot of time to think this summer and it has lead me to realize (drumroll pleeeaassseeeee)- MONEY ISN'T EVERYTHING. It's only taken 20.5 years of existence to realize this, but hey, better late than never! 

In my plenty of spare time I have been exploring what scripture has to say about money/finances. Matthew 6:24 says "No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money." Yes! I cannot and will not serve money. I am not here on earth to do that. But I am here to serve God and only him. Studying what scripture says about money also is a magnificent reminder of how God provides. I truly do not have to be anxious about the "m" word, because I have been provided for my entire life-how is this present season of life any different? I think God is teaching me great things by keeping me grounded in Milledgeville- he is teaching me how to use my money to glorify Him and not use it for selfish purposes. I am learning more about myself every single day, and He is freeing me of the anxiety that comes along with the burden of money. 

Now, does this mean I am going to quit my job tomorrow and live off the land? No! I am realistic in the fact that if I want to continue my education, live with my friends in my cute apartment (#Carol), and eat at Hibachi Express, then I am most definitely keeping my job. Does this mean I am freed from the slavery of my bi-weekly paycheck? Heck yes.

Money isn't everything. Besides, sometimes you save up the majority of your summer's earnings so far and then you rear end the car in front of you- and end up spending that hard-earned money on a bumper for a 2013 Honda Accord. 
Hypothetical situation? You decide. 

queen of nostalgia

Sometimes I think that I am the queen of nostalgia. If I wrote a song, that would be the title. Lucky for you,  I haven't cut a record deal...yet. But seriously, I love memories. And I feel homesick for places that I have and haven't visited. My heart aches for past experiences and I long for new adventures. The dictionary defines this feeling as [nostalgia]: wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition. Though I admit to yearning for the goodness of past experiences, I don't think that I am necessarily living in the past; but mostly appreciating the good times and awesome things I have experienced in my 20.5 years of life.

One of my favorite things to do is look through old letters, journals, pictures and other tangible memories that I keep in a rectangle box under my bed. I resist the urge to look through this box often, so I usually just add to it as time goes on- slipping in any notes or objects that might spark a future smile during a gloomy season of life. 

I only look through this box a few times a year. The rest of the time it is safely tucked between a printer I don't use, and some winter clothes in a bin. And yes, if my apartment was burning down and I could only grab one thing, it would be this box. (my laptop would be next, then probably my Chacos). Today was one of those rare days where I pulled out the dusty box.

 As I sift through the pile of envelopes and pictures scattered across my bed, a smile creeps across my face. I smile because I have letters from the most precious people in my life, and these notes never cease to remind me how deeply loved I am. I smile in a giddy way about the 4x6 sheets of Kodak paper that mix in with the letters; like the one that captured my family photoshoot circa1995 (where my entire family is in jean outfits, thanks mom); and the one that froze the image from edge of the pool deck at Frontier Ranch- my favorite view on this planet. I smile because the thick, worn journals remind me of struggles, joyful times and answered prayers.

Today I opened my first journal from one year ago, June 2012. Though I wish I had started journaling lonnnng before this, I am thankful that I have this year recorded on paper. And what a year it was! As I flip the pages between my fingers, I am amazed. Not at my own writing, doodles, or rambling, but mostly because of the growth I have seen in myself within those lined pages.

I flipped to the entry on June 26, 2012, one whole year ago. I was sitting on the bench of a picnic table outside the snack bar at Frontier Ranch one chilly morning before breakfast. I was experiencing the best month of my life while facing the reality of what would turn out to be one of the most trying seasons of my life- transferring schools. I was studying 1 Peter that day, specifically 1 Peter 1:14-15 "As obedient children, do not conform to the evil desires you had when you lived in ignorance. But just as he who called you is holy, so be holy in all you do; for it is written: "Be holy, because I am holy." That day I prayed hard for strength for the upcoming year. I prayed for obedience and a non-conforming mind and body. Thank God for answered prayers!

I am grateful to have this past year on paper. If you don't journal, I would encourage you to try it. There doesn't have to be any structure to it at all; just write. Write about your day, write about your dog, write down your prayers. You won't be mad in one year when you pick up your first journal and you see on paper how much you have grown. So go buy yourself a cute journal from barnes & noble and find a porch to sit on... and write.