Joy in the Journey

Psalm 46:10 ~

I fear that all too often we, as humans, are prone to this idea of associating a journey with movement. I mean, that only makes sense. A real journey is about going places, taking steps - or perhaps leaps, growing and changing and, yes, moving. So naturally, as I embarked on this new college "journey" of mine, I viewed it in such a light. And this isn't necessarily a bad thing, I suppose. Yes; journeys thrive off of movement and growth and progression; to deny this fact would be utter preposterousness. But here's the food for thought today: Can one's journey still be in progress if he/she is being still? At the moment, this probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but let me explain where I'm coming from for just a bit.

These past few days have been an absolute whirlwind, so much so that some of it is already long gone from my memory. There has been an onslaught of new classes, and you guessed it, an onslaught of homework & readings & quizzes & papers galore. Already. And people who know me well also know that I am a pretty crazy perfectionist, so this has been an adjustment like none other for me. Plus, amidst all of this came the realization that I am indeed on my own now. I can't just run to my parents and ask them to take care of everything else for me while I'm busy cranking out the homework. I can't rely on professors to let me know when things are due because apparently that's not a thing anymore. What. But anyway, I have been forced to deal with a multitude of newness, an inundation of unfamiliarity. And let me tell you, this is quite difficult at first. Your head spins and your worries multiply and you may think that moving forward is impossible to do. But here was my mistake: When I felt this way, when I felt as though I couldn't keep up with the journey, I just tried to hurry, believing that if I moved a little faster or went a little crazier, then sooner or later, all of my problems and worries would allay.

However, in this process, I had an awesome - and humbling - learning experience. You see, I discovered that a pivotal part of any successful journey comes from the "being still." It got to the point where I was just like, "God, I can't do this on my own. I know You're doing extraordinary things here, but right now, I'm just overwhelmed and kind of quite scared. Here's my situation; it's Yours. Here I am; I'm Yours." And wow. There is something almost chilling that comes from this, from being still and knowing that God is God. And you are not. Believe it or not, God is bigger than college. And even when you're drowning in newness and doubt and such, He's still at work. That's the amazing part of the story here. In all of the chaos, you've got to trust that He's surrounding you not only with His immense love & peace, but also with a solid group of exquisite people who He has placed in your life for a specific reason. And that's really cool. Yes; it is breathtaking to watch what happens when you let God take the reins, when you can simply surrender all, when you can cherish the good and relinquish all thoughts of the bad, when you can find joy in the situation at hand, when you can be still. And rest easy in the arms of your all-powerful, uncontainable, insurmountable Father God. He's so real that it's unreal.

So, blessings on your journey, whatever that journey is. May the act of being still get you exactly where you need to be.

Filled with Hope.

This past Friday, I finally made my move from good old Saginaw to Holland, Michigan, home to Hope College - and other grand things of course. It's about a three hour trek, so it probably sounds quite simple, quite easy, quite non-monumental, I suppose. And initially, I must admit that I went into it with that sort of mindset. Nothing but a three hour drive, a mere stone's throw away. And since I had already seriously entertained the thought of going as far away as Manhattan College and the University of Kentucky, it was pretty easy for me to view this as "no big deal." But then I began to notice that this wasn't really the case. Let's just say that saying goodbye to my friends in the days before I left was far from easy, regardless of the fact that I knew it was very much a temporary goodbye. Actually, it was one of the worst feelings I've ever had to deal with. You see, I sort of view it as a lose-lose situation. Either you don't say goodbye to your friends for fear of it hurting a bit too much, and thus lose in that sense, or you do say goodbye and are forced to realize once again that you love them too gosh darn much to even handle it, and thus leaving becomes synonymous with losing, losing precious moments together for the time being. So you say your "see you soon's" and then the doubts begin to creep in. Or at least they did for me.

And then you enter uncharted waters. You're thrown into a sea of unfamiliarity and chaos and stress and crowds of people and worry and homesickness and heavy hearts and utter confusion. But you're also thrown into a sea of newness and potential friends and freedom and excitement and a glorious sort of craziness. I like to think that one's first college experience is one of the very few things in life where excitement and sheer terror can be felt in the same instance, and it is a strange, strange, strange little phenomenon. And at first, I wasn't certain how to react to such a phenomenon, so naturally I freaked out. On my first day here, I was an absolute wreck on the inside. I was terrified due to the fact that I was already missing home and missing my friends, and it was just not a pleasant situation.

But then I decided that I wasn't going to let it get me down. And let me tell you, that has to be a very deliberate decision if you really want to follow through on such a feat; you have to be willing to change your outlook and not dwell on the things you're missing at home (even though you certainly still miss them) and buck up and be a little outgoing for once. I finally was able to realize that everyone else was dealing with the same circumstances I was. So I could sit and sulk and be a disgruntled little fool, or I could introduce myself to people and step out of my comfort zone and be a bit bold for the first time in my life. I mean, I have forever been the person who takes like a whole year to warm up to people before I feel as though I can totally be myself around them, and I had to take note of the fact that this method of attack simply would not work this time around. And boy, did the coolest thing ever happen. Now it wasn't instant; I'm not going to lie. I didn't immediately begin dancing around without a care in the world. But I did begin to - slowly but surely - feel at home. You know, people are so nice if you let them be, and it's so great to be surrounded by so many like-minded people, people who love Christ and love others and want desperately to make you feel like you are not only cared for, but where you are meant to be. And that's beautiful. And I am beginning to love it here.

So classes start Tuesday, and we shall see how it goes from there. Right now, I'm in the excited phase. So many new faces & stories & opportunities. Yes; I am quite hopeful that God's going to do big things. And I'm ready.

Both life & perspective are changing .

Yesterday I had one of those moments where you can't help but say to yourself, "Well shoot, if overblessed is a possible state of being, then that is surely the most accurate adjective I can contrive to describe myself right now." You see, I leave for college in a little over a week, and I've been forced to face the fact that regrettably, despite the goodness of such moments, I still have to be on my way in a short while. And at first, I was afraid that this was going to be some awful ordeal, and I'm not going to deny the fact that certain aspects of leaving will be extremely difficult - namely, the goodbyes. I feel as though if one is able to leave a place without any feelings of sadness or emptiness, then he or she simply did not ever truly & fully live in that place to begin with. So yes; don't think that I am taking the thought of leaving lightly. Because I'm not. But I suppose I've never been a strong proponent of visibly expressing my emotions, especially negative or vulnerable ones. Because frankly, I am incapable of doing so. So why not focus on the positives? If you sort of rearrange your perspective, I am convinced that there are very few things that can't be viewed in a positive light. 

I could be sad about the fact that this summer is coming to a close. Or I could revel in the fact that this summer has been a treasure trove of goodness. Gosh, this summer has been grand. Did I see certain friends as much as I had originally envisioned? No; definitely not. I think summer has a way of being a bit ruthless in that sense, and it's not a happy thing. Nevertheless, this summer has been doused with bike rides and sunshine and travel and road trips and picnics and flowers and family and friends and beautiful madness. And there is absolutely no way to look at these blessings and not be thankful and utterly enraptured by the sweetness of it all. 

But I fear that too often, we treat a move to college as though it's a death to all life as we know it, and while I get where this perception comes from and I get that life really will never be the same again, that doesn't mean that it's 100% accurate, some sort of infallible theory. Actually, it's not. Sure, new friends will be met, and new living arrangements will be enjoyed, or perhaps, dealt with. We'll be forced to be "responsible adults," and that kind of grosses me out, but it's still a reality I guess. Things will change; things will change a lot. But not everything has to change. If this was the case, I would probably spend my last week at home freaking out, as opposed to savoring the time I have left here, and I think we can all agree that approach would be no good. You can stay connected with people. It's one of the few modern extravagances that I am beyond grateful for. You have the ability to call up old friends; call your mom; call your dad; call your cousin; call your great grandpa. Keep the connections alive. You're leaving; you're not dying.

However, it's still sad. Leaving tends to be that way. But if we spent all our lives avoiding the act of moving on for fear that tears may be shed in the process, then we would never get anywhere. Recognize that amidst the leaving lies the going. And the going holds a heck of a lot of promise and excitement. And just remember, if you're sad about leaving, that probably means you've been blessed where you are. And you should be happy about that. 

This will most likely be my last blog post before I leave because I don't want to be spending a great deal of time near my computer when I could be with friends or family or even doing some packing here & there. I'll be sure to share how my first college endeavors unfold. And then continue from there.

But life is good. Such extraordinary people I have the privilege of calling my friends and family. Here's to new chapters, and a life that's so beautiful that portions of the previous chapters will spill over into the new.