Endings and Beginnings

Endings: College. My time working with my beloved ASU babies. Being a Clevelander. Having my own bedroom. Being able to not shower for days. Making coffee for one. Having my love 800 miles away. It being socially acceptable to leave the house in soccer shorts and a t-shirt.

Beginnings: Post-grad life. Married life. Teacher life. Making coffee for two. Having my love in the same town (and in 15 days, under the same roof!!). Showering every day. Dress slacks and nice tops. Being an adult. A new church home. The Sandberg Nest.


I have put on my cap and gown, turned my tassel, and received my diploma. I have said goodbyes, cried quite a few tears, and hugged many necks. I have put things in boxes, in trash bags, and in piles to go to Goodwill. I have made the trip back to Nashville to start life here. I have accepted my first job as a teacher at a local elementary school teaching second graders. My fiancé and I signed a lease on Monday for our new apartment. In 15 days after we say I do, I will move in with him!

But as chapters close, and new ones open, I can't help but to look back on the past four years of my life. Four years that have gone by in a flash and in a slow and steady rhythm at the same time. Four years that have brought laughter, tears, growth, set backs, goals being met, and dreams being obtained. Four years that have left me rich with memories and love. Four years that I would not trade for the entire universe.

 A long time ago (and by "long time ago," I mean, "in high school,") I read The Perks of Being A Wallflower. It's tremendously better than the movie, if you were wondering. In the story, the main character has a line for moments that will be forever marked in his memory. He says, "And in that moment, we were infinite."

 College is marked with many of these moments. Perhaps hundreds of these moments, all tiny and special and tucked away in the recesses of my heart. But there are five huge ones that have managed to mark me permanently, and that perhaps have molded me into the woman that I am today. Some are funny, some are serious. All have merit. All are special.


Five: Dave Matthews live in Atlanta.
    I went with two of the coolest girls ever. I met these girls while we were on yearbook staff together. I can only hope that some of their coolness rubbed off on me.
   We traveled the 2.5 hours to Atlanta and ate at the World's First Moes. This was a big deal for me, The Girl Who Loves All Things Moe's Burritos. I remember running over a curb at some point. I also remember lots of great conversations about boys, and playing Frogger in Atlanta traffic. I remember the girls sitting two seats down for us in the arena were doing acid. I remember categorizing Dave fans into three groups: the frat boys, the over forty crowd, and the pot heads. We realized we didn't fit any of these categories. We made a fourth: "Cute College Girls With Really Great Taste in Music." We danced like seaweed, which was our only goal of the night. We laughed and danced and soaked up the goodness that Dave Matthews is. We drove through McDonalds at 2am on our way home because we were hungry. We ate Big Macs and giggled the whole way home. When I listen to Dave, I still smile.
     I'm not sure why this night left a lasting impression on me. Perhaps it was one of those things that college kids are supposed to do. Perhaps it was just all the wonderfulness of being surrounded by good music. Perhaps it was just right where I was supposed to be in that moment, perhaps it was what my heart needed. Perhaps.


Four: Cramming 7 people (and all the luggage for these 7 people) in my Honda CRV.
  My time in SWAT has forever changed me. The timing of me joining SWAT was nothing short of ordained. Praise the Lord that His plans are bigger than mine.
  We went on training weekend for SWAT leaders. On the way to Timbuctwo, Georgia, a fellow Swattie's car broke down. I had two other girls in my car, she had four people in her car. We managed to all get to Timbuctwo...a few hours late. We had a great weekend, and then got ready to load up and head back to Lee. Then we realized we would have to cram all seven of our little selves in my trusty Honda CRV. Plus our luggage. I sat on three pillows. The girl in the front seat with me sat on two more. There were four people in my back seat; three sitting on the seat and one laying across all their laps. My final passenger was in the trunk, who was smushed up against our luggage, sounded a million miles away when she tried to talk to us in the front of the car. The Lord was watching over us, because we didn't get pulled over. I have never laughed so hard in my life. It was then that I knew SWAT was a family that would forever change me.


Three: My SWAT weekend in Peshtigo, Wisconsin.
  Well, now this one is obvious! I met my soon-to-be husband on this weekend. :) But I also met a few of my closest friends on this weekend. I also met people who loved and cared and are now going to be a part of my family forever. It was on this weekend that I learned to love and be honest and quirky and myself. It was on this weekend that I fell in love with loving God's people. It was on this weekend that I began to learn that if I truly trusted in the Lord, He would use me in ways far beyond anything I could imagine. Immeasurably More.


Two: Freshman year. Yes, the entirety of it.
  Oh, freshman year of college. During no other time of life is it acceptable to live in such close quarters with 30 strangers. Freshman year of college, my nine months in Simmons Hall, my nine months with girls that would become sisters.
  Before I started college, there were many people telling me that I would love it. Sure, it was a rough start and I longed for people to have inside jokes with. But in no time, I had friends and I had sisters. I had giggle buddies, baking buddies, and girls to hunker down with and watch Madea movies. These girls challenged me, spurred me on, and called me out. These girls let me borrow their clothes, their shoes, their flour, and their ears and hearts. The girls I lived with drove me nuts, but those short months kept me at Lee. Those short months of living in freshman housing taught me how to love, how to forgive, how to laugh when situations seem grey, and how to blast Kelly Clarkson when boys are being... well, boys.
  I learned how to be gracious, and I learned what servant leadership looks like. I learned more about Jesus through those 30 girls than anyone I had ever known on earth. It's funny how you start a season as strangers, and somewhere in all the things that life has to offer, you find sisters.

One: Standing in The House of Mary in Bethesda in Jerusalem.
   As I have said before, the timing of my trip to Israel was only the Lord. Every single moment of my time in the Middle East was absolutely saturated with the love and presence of Jesus. That trip taught me so many things.
  But as I prepare to become a wife, I keep coming back to one particular moment of my time in Jerusalem. My trip to Bethesda, where Jesus healed the bedridden man, was a journey that didn't seem like much at the time. But over life and time, the Lord has revealed to me that that moment was uniquely planned by Him to plant in my heart and grow into a beautiful memory of which I would be gathering the fruit from for a very long time.
   The group I was with stopped by the House of Mary before we made our way down to the actual pools at Bethesda. The House of Mary has been turned into a cathedral. A cathedral that is known for its incredible acoustics. My group decided to sing How Great Thou Art while we stood in The House of Mary. I had never heard, nor probably will ever hear again, such a beautiful sound. It was almost as if we had entered the gates of Heaven and all of the angels were chorusing along with us. It still gives me chills to this day.
  In fifteen days, I'll be singing this song alongside my new husband as we worship at our wedding. And I'll remember the moment of splendor in The House of Mary. How great, Thou art. How majestic and merciful and articulate and intimately interwoven into the details of my life. How great, Thou art.


  College is an amazing, beautiful, arduous climb to the top of a mountain. But the view from the top is spectacular, and so worth it. On to bigger and grander mountains.

Through Him, all things are possible.

Journeyin' Through the Holy Land

Bedouin friend, taken by a Bedouin student.

Baptisms in the Jordan River.

The Old City of Jerusalem, Dome of the Rock, and Mt. Of Olives.

I left for Israel on May 15th, 2011.

I returned from Istanbul, Turkey on June 2nd 2011.

And during the course of those 19 days, my life was forever changed.

I traveled to Jerusalem, Israel; Petra, Jordan, and Istanbul, Turkey during my time in the Middle East. I came face to face with Jesus, religious conflict, history, and love in a variety of colors. I slept in airports, in hotels, in buses, on floors, on tables, and in airplanes. I ate food of all different colors, shapes, and kinds. I took many pictures. I journaled LOTS. I laughed and cried and loved until my heart was full.

I went on this trip through Lee University with their education program (seeing as I'm an education major, and all...). 30 kiddos went, and none of us really knew each other before the trip. We traveled to Atlanta, flew to London, flew to Tel Aviv, and drove to Jerusalem where we would be living for ten days.

In the Middle East, I encountered God. I encountered Him as God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit, God the Comforter, God the Author, and God the Creator, just to name a few.

God the Father: We were in the Middle East on a study abroad trip. And as educators, we toured many different schools to get a taste for what the education system in all these different countries looked like. We went to a Tali school (basically their curriculum combines both Arabic and Hebrew cultures in the curriculum- which is unheard of, but a great idea to take steps toward peace!) during our time in Jerusalem. We also visited a deaf school in Jerusalem because we had a friend who worked there as a soldier teacher (she is in the Israeli Army). Here, I met Jonathan, a precious little 7 year old who was hard of hearing but had the most beautiful smile I have seen in my life. He diplomatically made eye contact, waved, and smiled to every member on our team. More than once. I had to fight with everything in me not to scoop him up and take him home with me. Blessed my soul. :)

While in Bethlehem, which is part of the West Bank and a Palestinian settlement, we visited a Catholic boy's school.

In Jordan, we visited a Bedouin school. The Bedouin people are nomads and live in caves or tents in the desert. The Jordanian government is forcing these people to move into permanent housing, in order to better keep tabs on them. It was here that I saw God as Father.

This school was also an all boy's school. Naturally the guys from our team were totally stoked, seeing as they could play soccer and do man stuff with these new friends. We visited the classrooms, were treated like royalty (much like in Malawi!), and took lots of pictures.

During recess, while many of the boys were playing soccer, I was walking around taking pictures of the fun and a few boys caught up to me and wanted to take a picture with me. I was nervous to give them my camera (a Canon Rebel, whom I love very much), but I slid the strap around their neck and explained to them how to take a picture. Which was more difficult than it seems, considering I don't know a lick of Arabic, and they knew very little English. But the boys caught on quickly, and lots of fun followed.

I instantly, and I mean INSTANTLY, was in my element and overcome with peace. I was doing two things I love: teaching, and taking pictures. The joy on the boy's faces was so evident, and I couldn't help but thank Dad. As I watched them laugh and take pictures of their friends, I couldn't help but think of the Lord's extravagant love for them. "Red, yellow, black, and white" just kept playing over and over in my head. The Creator of this universe loves those little Bedouin boys. They are His children, as much as I am. Talk about humbling.

God the Son: Jesus. It is a powerful name that has traveled through languages, time, across borders, and around this world. And I've walked where He has.

The interesting thing about Jerusalem is that it looks like nothing that I had conjured up in my head before going. I was picturing camels, and desert, and shepherds, and cobblestone. Thank you, Beginner's Bibles and flannelgraphs from Sunday School!

But it's nothing like that. It's modern, ancient, unified, and divided all at once. It's crowded, it's a melting pot, it's so full of Jesus I can't even describe it.

We toured the Garden Tomb/Golgatha, Nazareth, Capernum, the Mt. of Beatitudes, the Dead Sea, Masada, Ein Ghedi, Bethlehem, the Jordan River, the Via Delarosa, the Old City of Jerusalem, David's Fortress, and the Western Wall. I've touched where Jesus was born, where the cross stood, been in the tomb where he was buried, and walked the land where He did His ministry. Many, if not all, of the holy sites from the Christian faith have churches ontop of them. (Even Peter's mother in law's house. The Franciscans built this weird looking UFO church right ontop of it. ) But the thing about these holy sites is that some of them may not be totally accurate. We know a few things for certain, like Peter's mother in law's house and where Mary's house was, and the cave where Christ was born. But we don't know exactly where Christ's cross was put in the ground, or where He cried on the Mt. of Olives.

But it doesn't matter WHERE it happened. It only matters THAT IT HAPPENED. He was born of a Virgin, revolutionized the world with love and truth, died on a cross, and was raised from the dead to sit at the right hand of God and He will one day come again. All that matters is that He came. And He rose. And He's coming again. Hallelujah.

God the Holy Spirit: Birds are my thing. Birds are my God thing. There have been quite a few times that the Lord has spoken to me through creation, but most specifically the presence of birds. Peace and joy come when I see birds, and it always seems to be at just the right time.

Day one, we are standing at the Western Wall. Now, the Western Wall is significant because it is the last remaining wall of Solomon's temple. It's a place of prayer for the Jewish people, and is a very beautiful picture of the love and devotion they have to their relationship with God. As I stood in the Western Wall Plaza and took everything in, I noticed a soup kitchen directly across from the Wall. Which excited me, because of my big ole heart for missions. And I had just been wondering about homelessness and the needy in the community of Jerusalem. I just thought it was so neat, and such a cool picture, to have the last remaining wall of Solomon's Temple directly across from a soup kitchen. What a picture of the kingdom being lived out.

As I continued my little 360 -degree-tour to look around the Plaza, I noticed something: birds. Hundreds. All congregating around the wall, flying to and fro. But all reminding me of the Spirit's presence, and God's love for the Jewish people. And my heart began to beat a little happy tune.

Shortly thereafter, we were sitting in the Garden of the Garden Tomb, looking at the face of Golgatha. As I sat there and contemplated Calvary and fought back tears, a dove swooped down right into my line of vision. A dove. With the shadow of Calvary in the background. I almost lost it. How cool is He?!?

The next day, we visited David's Fortress, which is the highest point in the Old City. The view is spectacular; the Mt. of Olives, the Old City, the New City, the West Bank, and Jordan are all visible from this spot. As I was looking around, I felt a tug on my arm. Marissa was next to me, pointing at something. I squinted and looked closer. And there, in the middle of this great big fortress that we were climbing around, sat a dove. As peaceful as it could be. Just a little sign of God's love. With my name on it.

God the Comforter:

Psalm 51:11 says "Cast me not away from your presence,

and take not your Holy Spirit away from me."

The Psalmist is writing to God, pleading for his transgressions to be removed from him and in return, be given praise for the King. Shortly before my trip to the Middle East, I went through a big and tough decision in my life that was covered in prayer, but was heartbreaking. I was nervous to go halfway across the world without my family and closest friends, but I knew that the Lord had called me to go on this trip. And boy, did He ever. And He never, ever, ever left my side. Glory be. My doubts, fears, and heartache was cast aside. In exchange, He gave me beauty, dancing, and joy. How He loves.

God the Author: I was originally supposed to be going to Egypt for this trip. Due to some civil unrest in Cairo (where we would be spending the majority of our time), the trip directors decided that it would be better if we switched our trip to Israel, Jordan, and Turkey. So this trip was "Plan B." This trip that so radically changed my life, wasn't originally the plan. But God is the Author of all things and the Great Orchestrator, and He had a plan. He knew how much I would learn and love and be challenged on this trip. And He used it. He used, what I considered a "Plan B." So although I took a giant leap of faith at the beginning of this summer and made a tough decision, I know God's got a plan. He orchestrated an unbelievable three weeks in the Middle East. I trust Him to pen a beautiful path to my life. Although I originally thought that this path was "Plan B" after my big decision and therein my heartbreak, I am now seeing that it's not Plan B. It's His plan, and I'm in the palm of His hand, and nothing can take me from there. So the pen is in His hand. And I trust, just like He took care of me in Israel, He will carry me through.

God as Creator: I am an artist. Well, I like to think I am. I know my way around a Hobby Lobby, I love to paint, and I poke around with photography. God speaks to me through creation- His earth, and the creations of His children- through songs and artwork of all kinds.

The second leg of our trip was in Petra, Jordan. Petra was the Middle Eastern equivalent to Cleveland, Tennessee. There were a few shops, a few restaurants, but nothing really of note here. Until we went to Petra Park.

Petra Park is a national park that honors and displays the life of the Nabateans, an ancient people group of southern Jordan and the Canaan area. They're important became they carved lots of really cool stuff from rocks (see pictures below). Petra was important to me because it reminded me of God's splendor.

Our tour guide showed us around the park a little and told us quite a few stories I don't remember. Then, we were let loose in this national park for the whole day. We had a liter and a half of water and a sack lunch to last us. I had snacks in my pack. I thought ahead. Thank you, CliffBars! The park was huge, and we didn't even scratch the surface.

The small group that I was with decided to climb the first flight of stairs we came across. Little did we know this flight of stairs was 817 steps long. Which wouldn't be too terrible, if:

1) I was in shape

2) the steps were all even and smooth like in America

3) it was not 50 million blazing degrees outside

[Note: it didn't start off 50 million blazing degrees. But it eventually got there, oh say around lunchtime.]

We climbed. We stopped to have a snack. We climbed. We stopped to take pictures. We climbed. We stopped to let the boys throw rocks off the side of the cliff. We climbed. We stopped for water. And to pet some cats and talk to some Bedouin ladies. We climbed. I thought I might die. We climbed. I thought I literally was on the Stairway to Heaven. We climbed...

...and finally got to the top. We had climbed up what we later found out was one of the sacrificial mounts of the Nabateans. Which was eerie but neat. We stopped for lunch and to look at the view and for the boys to pretend they were going to fall off the side of the cliff to their sure death far below and give all the girls heart attacks. We took more pictures. Then, the boys decided to boulder up another mountain on top of this sacrificial mount.

Keep in mind, we are in the middle of the desert. Which was breathtakingly beautiful, surprisingly. But we climbed nonetheless. Good thing I wore my trusty Chacos. :)

We bouldered up mountains and stood at what was surely the top of the world. As I looked around and saw Petra in the distance, and mountains rolling across the horizon and clouds hanging low in the sky, I couldn't help but think, "Lord, you have a really awesome view." And I heard in reply, "This is only the beginning." Which made me smile. And feel very very small. His hands, the very ones that hold me, carved the mountain tops and scooped out the valleys. They poured the waters in the rivers and planted trees. He uniquely stitched together the blue lizard I came across (ie: almost stepped on), and specifically designed each bird I saw to survive in such an environment. He made it all. I've never felt so big and so small at the same time.

I made new friends. I laughed until my sides hurt. I Dougie'd ontop of our hotel in Jerusalem. I played Dutch Blitz in a no-man's land between the borders of Israel and Jordan. I bouldered in the desert. I used a squatty potty. I bartered in the Old City of Jerusalem. I ate street corn. I loved until I thought I'd burst and I was loved on until my heart was overflowing. I was reminded, day after day and moment by moment, of God's unfailing love and faithfulness. And it is His faithfulness and His strength that lead me, guide me, and carry me through.

His strength is my joy and my song.

The sign on the door of the Garden Tomb.

Once Upon A Time...

...I was a small second grader with big dreams of being a teacher just like Ms. Honey on the movie Matilda. I would live in a cute little cottage and be super sweet and love all my students. For "What I Want To Be When I Grow Up" Day, I wore pink dress up heels and had my hair tied back and carried around a notebook. I wanted to be a teacher.

...I was a third grader with dreams to be a teacher just like my teacher, Ms. Schnarrs. She typed so quickly, loved Disney, her room always smelled good, and she told me that one day my brother and I would be best friends. (She was right.)

...I was a fourth grader with dreams to be a teacher just like my teacher Ms. Paris. Her desk was always a wreck, she cast me in the class play (which gave me momentary dreams of being an actress) then encouraged my love for writing, (which gave me momentary dreams of being an author) and she loved Dr. Pepper.

...I was a fifth grader with dreams of being a teacher, so I collected all the extra worksheets from my teachers, brought them home, and enlisted the girls on the street to play school with me.

...I was sophomore in high school and was entrusted with my own kindergarten choir class at church. I learned how to manage a classroom of rowdy 6 year olds, I learned how to carry on a very lengthy conversation about Bob the Builder, and I learned how to interact with parents.

...I was a junior in high school, and I took my first trip to Africa. Where I realized that I was a world changer, a Daughter of the King with a passion for helping the least of these. With a thirst for knowledge and a desire to see love spread around the globe.

...I was a senior walking across a stage to receive my diploma, and I was walking into the next chapter of my life.

...I was a freshman in college and I took my first trip into the inner city culture of Lower East Side Manhattan. Where I quickly learned the art of being firm and asking, "Where are you supposed to be?" To students wandering the halls. Where I learned that love sees no color and that kids are sponges.

...I was a sophomore in college, and I took my second trip into the inner city culture of Chattanooga. And I learned that prayer in school can never be removed when a teacher is praying ceaselessly for her students. And I met my first friend who is from an abusive background. And I was taught how to dougie from three second grade girls. And the same girls micro-braided my hair, which took quite awhile to shake out of my "white girl" hair.

Last week, I was at an elementary school in Chattanooga with Mrs. Y's second grade class, observing my little friend for a class back at Lee. On this particular day, the class had a funky schedule which put us outside on the playground for an extra hour, which lent itself to an extensive game of Duck Duck Goose.

As I watched 60+ second graders sit in the grass, laugh, and enjoy the early April sunshine, I was overcome with love for these guys. I genuinely cared about each and every one of them. Their well being, their futures, and their educations. I scanned around the little circle, and I counted two white faces looking back at me. Two. Out of 60.

I should be used to this. I've been at this school many times before, I'm in the inner city of Chattanooga, I've taught in NYC, I'm looking at and praying about being an inner city teacher, for crying out loud. I should be used to this.

But where I'm from, it is lily white. If there's a black kid at school in the Wilco, it's like a fly in milk. Lots of money, lots of affluence. My high school minds well have been a private public school.

I once heard that educators teach in similar environments to the ones they grew up in. I hope not. I love the Wilco, but no thank you.

As I watched my second graders play Duck Duck Goose, I couldn't help but think about the statistics that are stacked against my precious little ones.

Incarceration rates are 6 times higher for black males than white males.

Black women have the highest teen pregnancy rate.

Each year, 1.2 million students drop out of high school. Over half of these are from minority groups.

My heart shattered into a million pieces. My precious little ones were literally going to have to fight to not be another number. A sense of despair began to creep into my heart, but I realized what a great responsibility had been laid on my shoulders.

No matter where I teach, if it's in an affluent neighborhood like Franklin or in the Bronx of New York City, I am a world changer. I can impact the lives of the future of my country. I fill young minds with the knowledge of the world around them, and I can encourage them that education is a ticket out, a ticket to a better life.

Overseas in developing countries, an educated woman is more likely to have a healthier, smaller, and more educated family. She is less likely to sell her body. She is more likely to attain a higher paying job and make a steady income.

Education leads to opportunity. As an educator, I hold the key to opportunity for all the students that will pass through my classroom. And if I can help just one, if I can just change one student's life for the better, I will have made an impact.

Change just one. Feed just one. Love just one.

On the same day that I was in Chattanooga playing Duck Duck Goose, I was in the parking lot walking to my car back at Lee later that day. A woman approached me and the small group of girls I was with, and she began to tell us her story. She had just recently lost her mom to cancer, she was struggling to pay her bills, she had suffered a serious car wreck, and the electric company was going to shut off her electricity the next morning if she didn't come up with 40 dollars.

As she told her story, I will admit that I thought, "Oh, I am not about to enable this woman to go to the supermarket and buy alcohol. I will not enable her." But that thought was quickly stomped out by, "Satan, get away from me. Jesus loves this sister just as much as He loves me."

I asked the woman her name. She told me Rebecca. I apologized that I didn't have any money, but some of the girls I was with did have cash that they shared with her. I asked her if we could pray for her, and she excitedly said yes. So right there in the parking lot, we prayed. We prayed for provision and for Dad to remind Rebecca that she is loved.

I think of Rebecca everyday. Because even though I was not able to help her in her situation, I was able to pray with her, and I pray for her everyday.

Feed. Love. Teach. Heal. Help. Serve. Pray for. Just one. But don't stop at just one.

Burning the Candle at Both Ends

2011 [thus far] has brought:

My first New Year's kiss

Passion 2011.

Passion 2011.

Passion 2011.

Passion 2011. [I really loved Passion.]

Lots and lots of snow.

The start of my 4th semester of college.

Chad and I's one year anniversary since we started dating!

New friends.

My first Valentine's Date Night. :)

Painting.

Taking lots of pictures.

Change.

Love.

Hope.

Knowledge.

Jesus. Lots and lots of Jesus.

About a month ago in my Art History 2 class, we were discussing Raphael. I really like his stuff. He's pretty smart. But my professor explained to us that Raphael "burned the candle at both ends" and met an early death and demise. Apparently he was a killer and thief and just really liked to party. So that's what my Art History prof meant by "burning the candle at both ends."

But I began to think: what if I burned the candle of my life at both ends? What would that look like? It was during this time that I also ignited my intense love of Lecrae's music. Thank you, Chad! Lecrae is this really fantastic Christian rapper who has an AWESOME story and platform for reaching people, if you didn't know who he was. I like him a whole lot, and find myself being so encouraged every time I listen (which is usually at very high decibels in the car or during my exercise time). So it was shortly after the Art History lecture that I was in the car listening to Lecrae. And one of his lyrics just struck me right between the eyes. In his song "Go Hard," Lecrae says:

If the cross don't move me

I don't wanna breathe no more

If I don't see Christ

Partner I don't wanna see no more

Those are some pretty heavy words. But they hit me nonetheless. If I wasn't moved by the cross, and the unfathomable and immeasurable Love that is displayed there, why even live?. If I am not seeing Christ in everything and everyone I come into contact with, then why even see? This all may sound really morbid and depressing, but it's so true.

I am on this earth to shout for the Kingdom of God and His beautiful glory. I'm on this earth to reflect my Maker.

I'm on this earth to "burn the candle at both ends" for His glory. I carry the Name of the Creator of this universe. Burning the candle at both ends in the heavenly aspect looks a lot different than it did for Raphael. I am called to speak truth, to worship, and to love all those I come across, just as Jesus loves me.

He has gifted me in so many ways, and He has blessed me in so many ways. But all of this is so that I may sing His praises and lift up His Name. So if the cross doesn't move me, if I am not undone at the touch of His word and awestruck by the love that He has for me, then I'd rather not be here. If I am not seeing Christ in my roommate, my professors, the precious girls on my hall, my friends who live on the streets in Atlanta, my family, my Chad, and my sweet Malawian friends that I think of everyday, then I don't want to see anymore.

I was going to Egypt this summer with the education department at Lee. Now we are going to Israel. I am going to be living in Israel, more specifically Jerusalem, for three weeks.

I remember being little and returning from DisneyWorld for the first time. I was watching Disney Channel, and I saw NSYNC standing outside of MGM Studios...exactly where I had been a few weeks before. I instantly hit the roof. I was quite the little NSYNC fan growing up, so to see them standing in the same place I had been a few weeks before just overjoyed little 10 year old me.

Fast forward a few years. I'm 18 years old, and at the Coldplay concert in Nashville with two of my girl friends from high school. I was beside myself in excitement: I was in the same room as Coldplay!! Once again, so excited to have a thread of relation to these superstars.

Now the 20 year old me is going to Israel in a few weeks. I am going to walk where Jesus walked. I just know that I'll be crying the entire time I'm there, but that's perfectly alright. I'll just pack plenty of Kleenex.

I've walked on the same ground as NSYNC, I've been in the same room (albeit a huge stadium) as Coldplay. But nothing in this whole world can compare to walking where Jesus has walked. To see the places that I read of in Scripture literally come alive right in front of my eyes is something that I've always dreamed of.

Philippians 2:9 explains to us that God gave Jesus the Name above all names. Jesus is above NSYNC and above Coldplay. Jesus is higher than Beth Moore and bigger than Francis Chan or David Platt (all whom I deeply love and respect and look up to). Jesus is higher than Joseph Kony and what he is doing to my precious Ugandan friends. Jesus is bigger than President Obama, and Jesus is bigger than Justin Beiber. Jesus, my Jesus, is the Famous One. And I am going to follow in His footsteps...LITERALLY! I've always known that Jesus is the most famous Person ever. But this adventure is putting it into a perspective that lil' ole me can wrap my mind around.

The blessings in my life are innumerable. Some days I just stand in awe of the Lord's fingerprints that are all over my life. In pillow talking, baking, laughing, and dancing with my precious roommate; loving, serving, laughing, discussing, eating, and snuggling with my incredible Chad; and laughing, eating, loving like crazy, talking, and adventuring with my family, I am always struck with just how much I am loved by those who surround me and the One from whom all blessings flow.

There have been some absolutely precious moments in the past 3 months. From playing in 8 inches of snow (the most I've ever seen) with the girls I live with, to being nursed back to health after being stricken with the flu (on our 1 year anniversary, no less!) by the greatest, most God-fearing man I know, to laughing or talking Jesus with my precious roommate Sharon until the wee hours of the morning, to just some really great Jesus moments...I think it's safe to say that 2011 has been a year of blessing, thus far.

With the completion of my sophomore year, a trip to Israel, a vacation to the beach, more time with Chad, time resting at home with the family, beach camp, summer classes, and a summer job all in my near future, I really can't wait to see what the Lord has in store!

fall '10.

Ben, Dad and I at the Titans game in October.
Some of the girls I live with at Benton Lake in September.
Ryan blowing out birthday candles on his 21st birthday.

I have a healthy obsession with black kids. It's healthy because I love them. And I really want to adopt one (or eight) after I get married. I think my obsession with black children, or any color child for that matter...but specifically black, was born after my first trip to Africa. Then it only continued to manifest and grow: after my second trip, after my trip to inner city New York...and now my working with kids in low socio-economic environments here in Cleveland/Chattanooga.

Plus, it doesn't help that my "boss" Jason has adopted a little boy from Ethiopia. I was seriously within an inch of putting the latest picture of Matty on my desktop as my wallpaper. But I refrained. That'd be creepy.

I have three pictures on my desk. One is of me and Sarah on the last day of my time in Malawi. I miss her. I miss that little girl singing Blessed Be The Name while we play in the dirt and her deaf sister sits next to me and touches my hair. I miss living in a hut made out of mud with a thatched roof that has no electricity. I miss showering underneath thousands upon thousands of stars while singing Veggie Tales at the top of my lungs with my sisters from other misters. I miss the lizard in Maddie's hut and the tuna casserole cooked over an open flame and sunrise worship by the river. I miss the simplicity and the closeness of His love.

Another picture is of me and the girls from the second trip to Malawi. In this picture are some of my sisters. We don't share earthly parents, but we share a Heavenly Father. We share abundant laughter and tears and hugs. We share the longing in our heart that we

feel to travel and serve and love unconditionally. We share our love for NSYNC and Christmas songs year round. We share our obsession with black kids and our intense love for anything chocolate. We share Jesus with each other, and with each life that we come into contact with. I miss these girls terribly. They are as much my family as my mom, dad, and brother are.

The third picture on my desk is of Chad. The man who has blessed me in astounding ways in the last 9 and a half months of my life. The man who has taught me so much about the Lord, music, how to almost lock yourself out of the house, how to love the unloveable, how to keep everything in perspective, how to not take myself too seriously, and how to love unconditionally. I just smile every time I see this picture of him and I from back in August. We've changed a lot. Physically (thank you, P90x!) and mentally and spiritually and relationally. But through it all, he's been there. And the Lord brought him to me in the most unconventional of ways. But that's how Dad works sometimes. His ways and His thoughts are higher than mine. And He's in control. And I'm just so insanely blessed. Golly.

It's November. I'm out of school in a month. I'm half way done with my sophomore year in a month. CRAZY. I've been insanely busy, cried lots, eaten a lot of chocolate, stayed up way too late too many times, been to Walmart too much, laughed until I cried, quit habits and picked up new ones, written many many many papers, studied many many hours, danced and laughed and taught kids just about every day, been loved, and loved. As hard as some points in this semester have been, I wouldn't trade them for the world.

Being around kindergarteners a lot is interesting. The little guys change day to day. The growth seen from August to the next May is astounding. If you ever doubt learning and education, hang out with a kindergarten class. The learning that goes on there is exponential. But I kind of feel like a kindergartner. I'm just 20 now and in college. Last year, I changed a whole bunch. This year, I've changed a whole bunch. It's almost day to day. One day is unlike the one before it or the one after it. I am on a continual journey to the King, and to His desire and will for my life.

At this point in the semester, I am RESTLESS. Yes, in all capital letters. I want to go. I want to do. I want to love and travel and adventure. I want to do just about anything other than have my nose in a book for one more moment or take one more test. I just want to get OUT of school and DO LIFE. But I am trying my very hardest not to wish my life away. Because I am in this season, this place called Lee University, for a reason. The Lord has me here to teach me and nurture me and grow me into the young woman He wants me to be, and the young woman that I need to be to do what He wants me to do. So I listen and I wait and I keep on studying and staying up late and loving on the people here and praying without ceasing.

I am clay in the Father's hands, and in Him I live and move and breathe.

Floods, Summer School, the ICU, and Dad's Heart Attack

It was just about a month ago that I wrote my last blog post.

It was just about 3 weeks ago that I finished my freshman year of college.

It was just about 2 weeks ago that my house flooded.

It was just about 7 days ago when my best friend, Ryan N., was hit by an 18 wheeler on his way home from helping me move into my apartment.

It was just about 6 days ago when my dad had a heart attack.

It was just about an hour ago that I learned that Ryan might be waking up today.

And through all this, my Savior has been near and FAITHFUL.

Some say hellacious. I sure did. But now, I stand amazed at the goodness of the Lord. Now, I know that I am to sing blessed be the name of the Lord at ALL times of my life.

My last few weeks of college went even faster than my first few weeks of college. Between exams, projects, packing, goodbyes, a new kitten...it's a blur! But it was so fun. And I truly loved my freshman year. I can't wait for my sophomore year.

On April 30th, I went home to Franklin for the weekend, and to take a load of my junk home, because there was absolutely no way it could all fit into my car in one trip. So I went home. It began to rain Friday night. And all day Saturday. My home backs up to a flood plain, and beyond that is the Harpeth River. Saturday afternoon, the river began to rise. Saturday evening, the river was in my backyard, and had become more of a lake. Saturday night, the river/lake was licking at both my back door and my front door.

Sunday morning, the water had receded. But my front yard looked like the picture above. And the water only began to rise. Sunday afternoon at about 1, the water began to come into my house. At about 2 oclock, we had 3 inches in our downstairs, and my dad made the call to evacuate. We had moved everything upstairs on Saturday, so most of our stuff was saved from the flood waters.

Lucy looks out the window at the flood waters rising.

The neighbor's backyard at about 1 oclock on Sunday afternoon. Also pictured is part of my backyard.

We left the house out of our dining room window. The water in our front yard was up to my thighs, and at its deepest point it was past my waist. We swam around the corner and down the street. We were picked up by firemen in a life raft. The dog was with us, in my dad's arms. She was terrified, so she was put in the life raft, along with my brother and our backpacks and duffle bags. We waded to the end of the street where we were picked up and taken to the Clubhouse in my neighborhood. From there were were bused to The People's Church (hooray for my home church being a Red Cross Shelter!). Since Lucy (my beagle/cocker spaniel mix) was with us, we weren't going to stay at TPC. The fantastic Baldwin Family came and picked my family and I up and housed us for the night.

Monday morning, we woke up and went to check out our house. We had 13 inches of water in the downstairs, and had to gut the drywall (up to 4 feet) and flooring out, along with the whole kitchen. My mom's excited about that...she gets a new kitchen!

But throughout the week after the flood, (the first week of May) my family was consistently reminded of the Lord's goodness and His providing hand. COUNTLESS stories can be told. My dad needing a mechanic, and one showing up at the house literally 5 minutes later (without a phone call or anything!), people bringing us food (we had enough food to last us a good long while!), and all the volunteers. My family started having to turn volunteers away we had so much help. It was absolutely amazing. God is so good! The dry wallers/ rebuilders are at my house this week putting us back together. :)

So this past Monday, I came back to Lee for summer school. It's just three weeks, and one physical science class. It's 4 hours long and rather dull, but at least I get it out of the way in 3 weeks!

Monday night as Anna (one of the Simmons Sisters, and my female best friend here at Lee) and I were unpacking and moving into our apartment, we called Ryan N. over to help us move a couch out of storage and into our apartment. He had a truck, that's why we called him. Anna and I both drive cute little cars...that are in no way suitable for hauling couches across town.

Ryan came up from Dalton, Georgia to help us move heavy boxes and the couch. We weren't able to get the couch out of storage, we didn't have a key to get into the unit. So we went to Target instead, to pick up "essentials." Which included soap that smells like mangos, a trash can large enough for me to live in, air freshener, and Saran Wrap.

After our Target run, we ordered a pizza. We ate it on the floor of mine and Anna's apartment, since we were severely lacking furniture. It was fun to catch up and laugh. At about 8:20, Ryan left to go home to Dalton.

At 9:30, Ryan T. (a very good mutual friend of Ryan N. and I) called me and told me there had been an accident. He said that Ryan N. was involved in a wreck on Dalton Pike, and that he had, at most, a broken leg. Ryan T. also told me that the Man Clan (that's what Anna and I have dubbed them. They are the three boys that Ryan N hangs out with remind me a lot of the Man Clan back in Franklin!) were already at the hospital in Cleveland, and that Anna and I were more than welcome to come too. So we loaded up and headed down the road.

Once at SkyRidge, we met up with the guys...and heard that an ambulance with Ryan N. hadn't been by. Anna and I went into the ER to check if Ryan N had been checked into the system. The man at the desk told us that he hadn't. So we went back outside and hung out until we had more information.

Then the phone call came.

Ryan N. was being airlifted to Erlanger Hospital in Chattanooga. The lot of us loaded up in Ryan T's Explorer and booked it into Chattanooga. We made it in 15 minutes, but it felt like an eternity to get to the hospital. Once there, we made our way to the emergency room and asked for the Narramores. The lady at the desk told us that Mama and Papa Narramore were in the Family Waiting Room. We went in and sat with them and asked what the latest news was.

Papa Narramore told us that Ryan had been hit by a semi and was in surgery. He said that Ry had a ruptured spleen, a bleeding liver, a swelling brain, a broken leg, and two broken arms. He also informed us that the doctors had given my best friend a 50/50 chance of survival.

I felt like I had been sucker punched. I felt like I was simultaneously going to throw up, faint, and cry at the same time. I left the room and called my mom. And the tears started. This boy, who has seen me through such a hard season of my life, was standing at death's door, according to the doctor. Ryan, my best friend. Ryan, the one who makes me laugh and sings country songs loudly and wears boots and holds the door open for little old ladies and gives 5 dollar bills to the homeless man by the interstate exit, had a 50/50 chance of survival. I might not have ever see him again. I might not have ever been able to punch him in the arm when he called me a tard. I might not have ever been able to hear his advice again. My world, and the world of his closest friends, came to a screeching halt.

People that were important to Ryan began to arrive in the ER as the word spread. Pastors from Grove Level, Ryan T's mom, the Douglases, friends from Lee, faculty from Lee. We all prayed and waited for an answer from the doctors.

In about three hours, the doctors came out and told us that Ryan had survived surgery, but he had lost about 30-40 units of blood and his brain was still swelling. They also told us that it wasn't a day by day fight for Ryan, but an hour by hour battle. The doctors left, and more texts were sent. More family and friends came.

At 3:30, Anna and I had to come back to Lee for our class that started on Tuesday morning. We came home and crashed.

At 7:45, I woke up and called my mom. She asked how Ryan was, and I told her that the doctors were going to put pins and casts on his arms and legs, along with a gauge to measure brain activity that day (Tuesday).

Mom then told me that she had something to tell me. My stomach instantly plummeted, and I knew that my dad had had a heart attack. When she told me that's what happened, I began to cry. My house was only half liveable, my best friend was in critical condition, and now my dad was in the hospital from a heart attack. My life was quickly becoming chaotic.

Mom assured me that my dad was okay, and that he was stable. She said that his heart attack was minor, and that he was going to be okay. I couldn't help but be fearful. What if it happened again? What if my dad died from this? He wouldn't be able to see me graduate college or walk me down the aisle on my wedding day or hold his grandbabies. I'm very very very close to my dad, and these thoughts broke my heart. But mom assured me that dad was alright.

I went to class, and through my day, all in constant communication with my family and friends about dad's condition and Ryan's condition. Prayers were being prayed all over the world for both these men that mean so much to me.

Dad and I at my Senior Prom

Ryan teaching V how to shoot a rifle.

Tuesday night, Anna, the Man Clan, and I, all went to the hospital. We were hoping to see Ryan, but we were not able to. His brain was still very sensitive to swelling, and it was under stress when a lot of people were in the room. So we just hung out in the waiting room, trying to keep everything positive and uplifting. The boys did a great job of making us laugh, and we had a great time getting to know one another even more.

I found out how Ryan's wreck happened that night. He was on Dalton Pike going home, and was trying to pass multiple cars in his lane. This road is a two lane, straight shot, highway. He pulled into the left lane and there was a semi truck coming at him from a long distance off. The semi saw Ryan in his lane, and pulled off the road as far as he could. But Ryan couldn't clear it, and clipped the side of the semi.

It's a miracle that he lived through the wreck. God has SO got big plans for this boy!

We also heard that he was in rough condition in the ICU. Carly, his girlfriend, told us that there were lots of tubes and machines, but that he looked just like Ryan always has. No facial swelling, no scratches or bruises.

That night was rough. I came home and cried. I didn't know what was going to happen. I hit my knees and prayed hard. Anna, the superwoman that she is, cooked spaghetti for dinner. We ate it and watched Glee together, which put me in a better mood.

Wednesday, good news came. Ryan had a surgery to revist his liver (they had removed part of it, along with taking out his ruptured spleen) to check for continued bleeding. But- miracle!- there was NO MORE INTERNAL BLEEDING. And!!!!---- HIS BRAIN HAD STARTED DRAINING ON IT'S OWN. He was pumping blood on his own, and his brain swelling was going down. We were so happy. We cried happy tears, and danced around and sang praises to the King. Ryan's a fighter, and the Lord is merciful and mighty!

(I didn't go to the hospital on Wednesday, instead I was able to have date night with Chad. It was MARVELOUS to see him and get a hug and a kiss. He is really really amazing. I am so incredibly thankful for him. The ways he has impacted and blessed my life are beyond measure. :) )

Wednesday night, Ryan tried breathing on his own. HE WAS BREATHING ON HIS OWN. God is SO AWESOME. The doctors didn't want Ryan using his energy, so they gave him a paralytic to help him save his energy. But what a big step!

Thursday was a quiet day on the Ryan front. Dad was discharged from the hospital, and sent home in good spirits. I was able to go to the hospital yesterday (Thursday) afternoon, with hopes of seeing Ryan. But I wasn't able to. I hung out with his family, and updated them on my house and my dad's condition. We laughed and shared sweet stories of Ryan. I also spent lots of time with Carly, Ryan's girlfriend.

Today, more great news came. Color is coming back to Ryan's lips and cheeks. His brain pressure is the best it has been, and the doctors are going to attempt to take Ryan off his sedation to see if his body can handle being awake. If not, they will try again later.

All in all, it has been a crazy few weeks. It really is true that with Christ, all things are possible. It really is true that whatever doesn't kill you only makes you stronger (thank you, Kanye West, for that great piece of advice). It really is true that I have grown up a little more in the past 14 days. It really is true that God is still in the business of miracles, and that He hears my prayers and the prayers of so many around this globe. It really is true that He is King of Kings, and His name is greatly to be praised, come high waters, heart attacks, or serious car crashes. Because He cares, He loves, and He is in CONTROL.

Summer has started. Not really with the bang that I wanted it to, but it's okay. I've learned more and loved more and listened more. I am thankful for what God is doing and what He has planned for my future.

All the glory belongs to Him. I am just the messenger.

The Time Has Come...

...For me to blog again.

I'm just a mess. I've got so many thoughts bouncing around in my head. All I want to do is:
A) paint.
B) sleep.
C) go home and crawl into my bed and have soup and just recover from this semester.
D) go back to Atlanta and goof off with the boy.
E) GO HOME.

I love Lee. Don't get me wrong. But today (and the past few days for that matter) has just been a little season of missing home. I miss Nashville, I miss Franklin. I miss swimming holes and Fusion and (gasp!) FHS. I guess I'm just burnt out on school and such. But I miss home. Miranda Lambert has this song out called "The House That Built Me." It makes me bawl everytime I hear it because I've grown up in the same house for 15 years, and because Franklin "
built" me. People laugh at how much I talk about Nashville. But I truly do miss it. And love it. It is my hometown.





<< Me in the first few weeks of college.

>>Me and Court (I'm on the right) today.


I am almost done with my first year of college. This freaks the tar outta me. For multiple reasons. I've grown soooo much! But it's just weird. Because I guess it really hasn't set in that I'm in COLLEGE. I'm almost a SOPHOMORE in COLLEGE. In THREE YEARS I will have my own classroom. Wooooa.

I'm almost done with my first year of college. That's so strange. No longer am I going to be a freshman, but a sophomore. It doesn't seem like that big a difference, but at the same time, it seems like a WORLD of difference. It's really really strange. I guess it's so strange because I am making decisions everyday that affect the rest of my life. Freaky.

I've changed SO much in the past 9 months. It's really kinda strange and sometimes makes me nervous that I'm not being true to myself, or that I'm going to let someone down by changing. But I feel like it's change for the better. I feel like I am growing, even though sometimes I have to take steps backward first, in order to take giant leaps forward.

Top Ten Things I've Learned During My Freshman Year (so far):
1. I am a clean person. (My parents thought I was kidding when I said this. But I'm not. I'm an extremely clean person now that I'm living on my own.)
2. It's never too late for a Steak and Shake run....
3. ....or a Krispy Kreme run...
4. ....or a Taco Bell run.
5. a 4.0 IS possible.
6. Time management is KEY.
7. Find a quiet place where you can be alone. Visit that place everyday.
8. Professors do care.
9. Adventuring, by yourself or with others, is a really fun Sunday afternoon activity.
10. You can never ever ever visit WalMart too many times in one week. (I think my record is 4 times in one week.)

Of course, there are serious things that I've learned as well. There have been ups, and there have been downs. There have been insanely frustrating moments, and there have been moments when I want to leap for joy. It can get really really tiring, all these ups and downs. But it's such a rush. It's such a thrill, getting to experience college and life on my "own."

All in all, I am thankful. All in all, I wouldn't trade college life, and this past year, for anything in the world. The Lord has been FAITHFUL and GOOD. He has seen me through rough times and great times. And it is by His strength and love that I live from day to day.

I can't wait for the summer. I'm not just saying that because I'm ready for school to be out, but I know that the Lord has big plans for this summer. :) And I can't wait for Him to reveal those plans!

Oh, Life.

GOD IS SO GOOD.
GOD IS SO GOOD.
GOD IS SO GOOD.

His loving kindness and overflowing mercy astound me.
He is so good!

I'm back at Lee for my second semester of freshman year. I feel so much older. More mature. Stronger. It's strange.

But I did go through that phase this past week of feeling "lost." I realized I hadn't picked up a brush in months, or read just for the fun of it, or baked, or gone out shooting for photography, or taken a walk, or anything like that. And I missed it.

But now, I'm in Franklin for the weekend. I've only been here a few hours, and I already feel filled. My Franklin tank was getting low. It's full now. I'm laying in my bed, listening to Andy McKee, eating Cheeto Puffs, and blogging.

My idea of a fantastic Friday night.

Something nags at my heart, however. Plays its strings, and calls out from a deep place. I'm in my literal home. My parents are down the hallway, and I'm laying in my bed in my room surrounded by memories of my life before college...but I know deep down inside, in my heart of hearts...

I'm not home.

Because home is a place on the other side of this planet. Home is a little mud hut, surrounded by other little mud huts, surrounded by the Father's love and the Father's presence. Home is a one-roomed church/school house filled with hundreds of little bodies singing praises to the King.

Home is where the heart is.
And my heart isn't here.
It's in Africa.

So now, I embark on this interesting journey. Well, more like continue on it. But with a different flavor. Because after I got back from Malawi in the summer of 2009, I knew that I wouldn't be going back.

Or so I thought.

But tonight, something drew me to those pictures. And something twisted my heart. And something called me home.

I fall on my knees. And pray. Hard. Because if the Lord IS calling me back, there have to be a lot of things that happen in a very short period of time. Money has to come in, schedules have to open up, and a spot on the team has to open up.

But if it's His will, He will make a way. Because HE WORKS EVERYTHING OUT FOR MY GOOD.

Lately, I've been praying for Dad's will to be done in different aspects of my life. With my new boyfriend, with my Sophomore year at Lee, with my summer...

But then, something dawned on me. I have given the Lord a coloring sheet and a crayon and kindly said, "Please color this section, this section, and this section in your will. But stay in those sections.

Now I am giving Him a canvas and a paintbrush and asking Him to paint the CANVAS OF MY LIFE in a beautiful rainbow of colors. Because I don't want to compartmentalize. I want Him to be moving, living, breathing, flowing into every nook and cranny of my crazy life. I want to overflow with His love...and give Him all the glory for everything He does.

I wait. I pray. I journal. I cry. I laugh. I dance. I sing. I hope. I love. And I dream.
I am clay in the Father's hands, destined for greatness.
Let His will be done.

Once Upon A Time...

...I used to blog more.
...I was a high school student.


But now. Now I'm not a high school student. No longer do I have a principal, a locker combination to remember, or my own bedroom. Now I answer to college professors, enjoy sharing a 9' by 14' room with one of my best friends, and have about 48 different numbers, passwords, and usernames to remember.

But boy howdy, DO I LOVE IT.

I'm at Lee University. I get along with this place like peanut butter and jelly get along. It's beautiful. It's nestled right in the middle of las montanas (or "the mountains" for all you non-Spanish extraordinares out there), the people here are INCREDIBLY God- breathed, and the Lord thrives on this campus.

College is a little weird, though. No longer am I surrounded by the people that helped me be "me." I know that first and foremost Christ, and my relationship with Him, defines who I am. But in a sense, you can't help but to cash in on what others say about you, think about you, and act toward you. At home in Franklin, I was Amberly, the Africa-loving, sweet pea, art freak. Now I'm Amberly the....

It's a clean slate, is what it is. It's completely exciting but insanely disturbing at the same time. I get this EXACT feeling staring at a literal blank canvas before a painting. There are so many different directions that I can go. But I feel that tug toward the "known," toward my past, toward my roots. I know that I'll remain faithful to my roots for the rest of my life, to one extent or another. I'll always love kids and have a really, really, really, really big heart for other countries, most specifically the continent of Africa. I'll always feel absolutely perfect with a brush in my hand and Ray LaMontagne on my radio.

But now, now I'm in a new culture. Gone are the cowboy boots and cowboy hats. Gone is the Pancake Pantry. Gone are the TPC Youth Kids. Gone are my parents (well, not literally GONE, but out of my everyday life). Gone is the Nashvillian Culture. (Isn't it funny that you don't realize how INSANELY AWESOME a place is until you leave it?) Gone is my bedroom. Gone is my house with all its little creaks and groans in the night. Gone is my favorite bookstore, with my favorite overstuffed sofa. Gone are my backroads that provided therapy for so many frustrating days. Gone are my carpool buddies that would accompany me in a lively (and very off key) rendition of "Gone" by NSYNC.

And in their place are beautiful trees. New people. New family that lives within 30 steps of me (and shares the same bathroom that I do). An insanely amazing boyfriend. Fantastic opportunities to positively impact the world around me for the glory of the Father. Beautiful parks. An "adoptive" mom and dad that live 20 minutes from here. Freedom out the wazoo. Cleveland Culture...which isn't as awesome or inspiring as that of Nashville, but still offers some interesting opportunities. Free food. And lots of it.

So in short, I miss home. But I love it here, and I know that the Lord has me here for a reason. I love love love Lee. There are definitely tough days, but I'm gonna have those anywhere. But here, the fantastic days far outweigh the tough days.

Top 10 Memories So Far:
1. Meeting my boyfriend in the ID line.
2. Party in the USA music video making.
3. Girl's Nights
4. Spending more time (and money) at Wal Mart than ever before.
5. Seeing yellow butterflies EVERYWHERE.
6. The sunsets here.
7. Meeting more people than I could ever imagine in the span of about 49 minutes.
8. Having professors tell you their testimonies.
9. Having professors remind you that they're praying for you.
10. Learning that you really DO change freshman year.

Top 10 Things I'm Looking Forward T0
1. THANKSGIVING BREAK!! (Dalton, Mississippi, extended-family meeting, food-consuming...)
2. Christmas Break! (Franklin, Gatlinburg, hot-tubbing, cookie making, girls nighting...)
3. Small Groups the rest of the year
4. My art classes next semester
5. Tutoring elementary schoolers next semester
6. Spring Break
7. Urban Outreach Weekend 1 and 2.
8. Skype dates with Neens and Em.
9. Continuing to teach my kindergarten Sunday School class.
10. Even MORE baking parties.

So here's to you, College Adventure. I love you so far!

Ps--- This is my shameless plug for Em, my seestar. She's going to North Africa this Spring. CHECK IT OUT: http://emifaye.blogspot.com/

the home stretch.

Well howdy there, Mr. Blog!

This is becoming my "Holy Crap I'm Graduating! Brain Dump Place." But I promise that I'll sprinkle in some other tidbits of news in here too.

I just planned out my next two weeks. This week is full of catch-up...both academically and socially. Mainly socially though. Because I'm a 4th Quarter Senior. And I don't do school work anymore. But get this: I HAVE 41 DAYS UNTIL GRADUATION. 41! 41 school, weekend, bummin' around school, and exam days left. In 41 days, I will be gradumatated. Praise the Lord!

I spent last weekend at Lee University signing up for classes. This was so surreal to me. I'm going to college. I'm signing up for classes that sculpt my future. I'm leaving home, and embarking on a new adventure. Hot dog! I absolutely cannot wait. From rooming with one of my best friends to discovering new cute coffeeshops to new friends and people to meet (read: boys), I am so excited!

This week was spring break. And boy howdy, was it needed! Here's some snippets of what I did...

< Raced shopping carts in parking lots...

Had Fake Fusion with the youth group, where we had great roomie boding time... ^

< and aided the Senior Boys in their fashion show at Target.
(Where we were stalked by an employee that kept giving us looks. We were just killing time before our movie!)

All in all, a great spring break. :]

In other news, high school consists of getting ready (and pumped!) for Prom '09, sending in final transcripts to our choice colleges, and eating lunch outside. :]

Summer holds: GRADUATION, Vacation Bible School, Youth Camp, AFRICA, return trip to Mexico, THE POOL, girl time, last memories with the Class of 09, Kid's Camp, a possible mission trip to NYC, a possible beach trip with the girls....and COLLEGE! Wooo hoo! Let's go!