Here's to never growing up.

When the sun's going down, we'll be raising our cups singing, "Here's to never growing up!"

The title of this may be slightly misleading.  This whole entry is about the exact opposite.  I think that I should write a little about how I've gotten to this point in my life, and how much I've grown in the past four years.

I assume that a major part of my journey as a YAV has a lot to do with my personal journey of growth and all of that good stuff (life, love, etc.).  Well, in the past few weeks I feel like I've noticed a lot of the ways I've changed since college began.  I feel like I've taken the time to notice this because I'm terrified about being out, so far away from my parents, and relying on myself much more than I ever really have before.

1.  I've learned to trust God so much more.

Don't get me wrong. There is A LOT of room for improvement here.  On Sunday I read an e-mail and immediately went into panic mode. "What am I supposed to do? This is impossible!!! I don't know what to do! How can I manage this? OH MY GOSH."  Obviously I'm still having some problems in this area, but I was able to get a hold of myself and starting praying.  I asked God to help me trust him, and to guide me through this.  I pretty much begged for peace and felt it.  Not immediately, but I felt it.  I'm pretty good at resisting God's nudges and guidance, and that's what I was doing when I was resisting his peace.

Well, let me tell you a little story about my first heartbreak to prove how big of a step this was for me.

When I went through my first break up I lost it completely. COMPLETELY.  I knew that God had done something wrong.  This wasn't right.  It was IMPOSSIBLE that I hadn't found "the one" at eighteen years old.  I was angry, so angry, at God. I didn't trust him.  I was telling Him that he had it all wrong and that He was screwing everything up.  Well, He wasn't.


I know this is probably a ridiculous example, but I mean, HELLO, it shows you just how little trust I had in a God that I claimed to follow.


In the time during this breakup I did things that I had never allowed myself to do while I was with this boy.  I had spent a year at a new school and had exactly one friend to show for it.  I didn't want to make friends or hang out with anyone. I wanted to go home every afternoon and spend every minute on the phone with this boy until I went to sleep.  WHAT WAS I DOING?!?!?! I wasn't being present in my own life!!! I made some amazing friends once I was opening myself up to the people around me.  I went out on the weekends and at night.  I had FUN for he first time since I moved to Quincy.

God knew what He was doing, obviously.  It's only hindsight that allows me to see this, but there's a mid point to this "trusting in God" part of my story.

Last year, on June 9, 2013, I lost the closest thing to a brother that I've ever had.  My cousin Josh from day 1 was an inspiration and a joy to all of our family.  We got the call about his accident at around 10:30, and drove to the hospital where we were surrounded by almost forty people that were there with the same purpose: prayer and comfort. We prayed through his surgery, we knew that he had been a fighter since his first day of life, but all of a sudden we had been let down.  God had failed us and didn't answer our prayers. I was angry, but angry isn't even really the word.  I WAS PISSED.  God can do EVERYTHING and He did nothing here, right?

He did nothing, didn't He? Had we really been failed?

No.  I'm not claiming that I understand this.  I'm not saying I don't still get angry when I think about it, but there were things that came out of that pain that would have never come otherwise.

If it wasn't for this tragedy I wouldn't have realized how truly amazing our community was.  I had never really felt a part of Quincy until then, and seeing how much love and caring came pouring to the Wilders made me feel like this was a place that I could call home for the rest of my life.  I had yet to feel that way in the five years my family had lived here.

If it wasn't for this I would have never mended the relationship I once had with Josh's sister, Courtney.  Growing up we did everything together.  We learned to ride bikes together, we shared secrets, we laughed, we cried, and most of all we fought.  All the time. Non-stop.  Even in our sleep.  Literally.  We both talk in our sleep and one time we woke my mom up yelling at each other.  When she came in to get on to us for being up so late she realized that we were asleep and carrying on a fight with one another.  Well, the summer after my senior year of high school we didn't fight.  I betrayed her trust and let something so silly get in the way of our relationship.  If Josh was the closest thing to a brother I've ever had, Courtney was my sister, and still is.  I regret the time that I spent being mad at her.  I regret not loving her the way God calls me to love everyone, because I was being stubborn.  So silly.  So Courtney, this is an apology that you let me leave unsaid.  I'm sorry and I love you.  I'm glad we've gotten to this point, and know that we're only going to get closer.

So, we have one really silly example, and one not silly example.  The degree of seriousness isn't what's important here.  What is important is my trust in God, and I'm pretty impressed with how far I've come.  I know that I have much more growth to achieve here, but, for now, I think I'm doing a pretty good job.


2. Life isn't perfect, and I'm not either.  

I'm the worst type of perfectionist.

Many people are probably surprised to see this.  My mom says that I come across as the total opposite.  I seem like I'm "flying by the seat of my pants." She told me this when she said that most people think I probably make really bad grades.  Which I found funny, because I do come across that way.  That's why I'm the worst type of perfectionist.  I refuse to let anyone know that I've tried in any way.  I won't show any sort of weakness or caring, and then not come out with perfection.  I would rather make a "C" in a class and be able to say, "I didn't try at all. No studying. No homework." Than to have to say that I worked my butt off and made a "B."

That makes no sense, but it's how I am.  I expect perfection if I've tried, because I think that attempts should mean perfection.  How silly is that?

One person that has helped me through this is my best friend Victoria.  She has pushed me to try since the day I met her.

It's been really hard and this may seem off topic, but here we go. . .

I'm not a very good friend.  I'm a great listener.  I'm incredibly trustworthy.  I am loyal, but I'm a really bad friend.

I am possessive.  I get jealous.  I pick fights because I feel like it'll hurt less when she decides that she doesn't want to be my friend anymore.

Again, ridiculous.

Victoria and I are soul mates.  I decided that a long time ago.   She is not my exact opposite, but she complements me.

I'm very introverted.  Insecure in friendships (I have only had a very few close friends that haven't really hurt me, so I have come to expect it). I'm so impatient with other people, but Victoria isn't like that at all.  She's outgoing, levelheaded, and so, so confident.

If it wasn't for her I would probably only have one friend in my sorority.

I'm not outwardly like able.  It's only once you get to know me that you can realize that I will literally do anything to help anyone, but when you meet me I come across as cold and tough.  I'm not, by the way. Victoria has been my apology for those things.  If someone so wonderful can love me, then other people can too, right?

I have known since the day that we became so close (it pretty much happened overnight) that I was lucky to have someone that was able to see the good in me that other people took longer to find.

Looking back on our friendship I realize how much she's helped me overcome.  She makes no apologies for her short comings.  She is who she is, and perfection isn't her goal.  Happiness and confidence are.

I rarely compliment people.  Really rarely.  I almost never compliment her, but every time I'm around her I think of all of these amazing things about her and thank God that someone like her pushes me to be better everyday by realizing that trying and not reaching perfection is okay.  It's normal.  Perfect isn't possible, and my plans will all fall through, but she won't.

So sorry that sounds like a love letter to her, but, really, she's done a lot of good for me as a person.

3.  I've learned to trust others.

This piggybacks on what I was just talking about with Victoria.  I didn't trust people the way I should have before I went to college. I trusted too easily, but I also didn't trust at all.  I had only ever trusted one person with all parts of my mind and soul, and had been let down.  Before that I had trusted all the wrong people, but had not learned.

I've found that walls are okay.  They don't need to be so high that no one can ever get to all of the good things about myself, but they're there for a reason: protection.

I know now that God is sending me people that I can trust.  I'm surrounded by people in all parts of my life and in all of the places that I will go that are trustworthy.  That I love and that care about me.  People are not put in to my life to disappoint, but to help me grow.  To help me learn.  To move on.  To love.  To make me strong.  God has done all of that.  He has truly molded my heart to see these things by sending me the people that I can trust.

I'm blessed by the people I've become close with over the past few years.  Even the ones that I've hurt, or that have hurt me.

4. Love should be built on a strong foundation and with someone that challenges you to be a better person everyday.

This goes back to that break-up, and every break up since then.

This past weekend I was in the wedding of my oldest friend.  I maintain that I am too young to get married (it's a personality thing, not an age thing), but after watching Will and Kelsey this weekend I learned something in that hit-you-over-the-head way.

God has built each of us for someone.  In Will and Kelsey's case that's so obvious to me.  They're made for one another.  Their parents prayed for each of them and they found each other.  God doesn't expect us to settle.  Which is what I've spent much of my time doing.*

I've spent much of the last four years single, and this has led to questions.  Some of them involving my sexual orientation (I'm straight, I promise).  Some of them involving all of the things that might be wrong with me (Yes, I do go for guys that I know it won't work out with, and yes I self-sabotage).  Some of them just people curious about why, with no accusations.  This has been a hard road for me.  I've been incredibly lonely at a lot of times and called my mom crying because I was the only one that didn't have someone.  I've been angry.  I've questioned what's wrong with me.  I've pleaded with God to send me someone.

Kelsey and Will made me realize that it's not at all in my timing.  Kelsey didn't want to be the first of her friends married and Will had just come out of what sounds like a bad break up.  They weren't expecting each other.  They weren't ready.  They weren't looking, and they knew that it wasn't their choice.

They happened upon each other and the rest is history.

They have proven to me that the right love is worth being lonely right now.  The right love is out there, and I don't even have to look for it.  Wasting my time and exhausting my heart on the wrong guys won't make the right guy get here any faster, and I think, for me, I've been doing what I should have been all along.

*I have not "settled" meaning that I found bad guys.  They were simply the wrong guys for me.  I mean to offend no one.

5.  Plans will fail, but that's okay.

I didn't get in to the sorority I wanted.  I didn't end up dating this guy that I REALLY liked and that seemed to like me back.  I have changed my life plan that I've had since I was sixteen and am now faced with completely unknown circumstances.  I didn't graduate on time.  I'm not engaged graduating college.

I don't know why I threw in the engaged thing.  I've never really wanted to get married young, but I did want a candle passing in college.  I have such childish wants like 98% of the time.

All of these things seemed so perfect at the time, but in hindsight I'm realizing that NONE of them would have made me happy.  Except maybe graduating college on time.  It'd be nice to have a completely relaxing summer.

I've been disappointed.  I've felt like the whole world was crashing around me and I had no idea what to do about it (like right now when I'm coming to grips with the cold truth that I no longer know what I want to do with my life).  And I'm realizing that it's because none of these things were ever meant for me.

I'm a part of a plan.  God has a purpose for all of our lives, even mine.  None of these things are a part of my plan, and I am learning, and have learned that it's all because I'm meant for something different and BETTER for ME.  Not for everyone around me.  That's tough.  These plans could have made me pretty dang impressive.  I'd be a part of a bigger named sorority, would have a nice rock on my left hand, a diploma, and my sights set on a pretty high paying job with flexible hours.

Okay, where was I going. . .this all still sounds pretty great.

OH! Right.  I'm a VERY immature 22, or at least in my mind I am.  So an engagement would take away from all of my time to be selfish.  I like being able to move to San Antonio and not worry about some boy that bought me a diamond.

I am meant to help people in a different way than I had originally thought.  Occupational Therapy isn't my calling (right now).  I'd probably be pretty unhappy.

The sorority thing wouldn't have led me to my soul mate and to 90 something girls that I can count on. . .all for different things.

I'm so glad I didn't get what I thought I deserved (pretty sure that's part of a song).  Now I'm on to a whole new world.

YAV is how I'm getting there.  YAV is how I'm meant to grow.  YAV is how I'm meant to make a difference.

1 in 525,600 minutes

How do you measure a year in the life? 

How about love? Measure in love. 

I'll admit it.  I have never seen Rent.  I first heard this song on Glee, and since then I have been obsessed with the meaning behind it.  Time is a made up concept, right? It exists, but in a very strange way.  In our memory (which can be altered), in our present moment (which is fleeting and can't be grasped), and in our anticipation (Dr. Brommage, if you're reading this, I hope I didn't totally butcher St. Augustine's take on time).  So if we can't really measure time by something tangible then how do we know that our time has been well spent? How do we know if we've been useful? What do you do with the 525,600 minutes of each year? Well, Rent did a really good job of answering all of those things.  Love.  Love is the perfect measure of our time spent on this earth.  

"If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing." 1 Corinthians 13:2

Without love we aren't living.  We are simply existing.  A life that is without love is not a life well lived.

I have no idea what my life's work will be.  I have no idea what agency I will be working with come August either.  I do know that God is calling me out of my comfort zone and into a year of service to others. There is no better way to love others and to show them the love of Christ than to serve them, and, for right now, that is my calling.  To serve and to share love.  

I found out on June 7, 2014 that I had been accepted to be a Young Adult Volunteer in San Antonio, Texas. I don't know where I'll be working while I'm there, but I do know that I am terrified.  In a good way of course! Over the past few weeks I have had informational conversations and discernment interviews with several sites, and San Antonio is the second most terrifying place that I talked to.  In San Antonio, we live in community (true of all YAV sites that I talked to), create a community with the people in the house, cook with them, clean with them, and create a home for ourselves.  I'm going to live simply. This is scary and new. Gluttony is my deadly sin, and simplicity will be the biggest challenge off the bat. I'll be attending a church in the Latin American neighborhood I'll live in.  No, I don't speak Spanish, but I bet you I will by the time my year is over! 

What led me to the YAV program? 

I went to the Montreat College conference this year and felt pulled (that pesky Spirit!) to go to an informational meeting for "A year of service for a lifetime of change." What the heck is this? What do these people do? What's this all about? I kept having questions pop into my head about it, so while my friends went to another small group, I made my way to the YAV meeting.  I was interested and immediately felt myself get defensive. I got scared.  I could feel that calling in me and was already hating it. You know how you do something, but you're not happy about it? You know how you feel pulled to something and know you need to do it or you won't feel satisfied? That's the feeling I had. 

How did I finally accept this calling?

This is assuming I've accepted it.  I'm excited and know that this is exactly where I'm supposed to be but I'm scared. Terrified.  Freaking out, really.  I don't know how you accept your plans being shattered (I was going to teach for a few years and then go to grad school) and your life being turned upside down. 

My mom's reaction made me feel more at ease with this.  She seemed excited, but in that way that parent's have.  You know when they don't want to spook you by being too excited or turn you off of something? Or when they refuse to influence your decision with their thoughts about what you should be doing? It was like that.  I was nervous and she was completely calm (only completely calm after she found out I didn't want to do YAV abroad).  

I finally thought that I might be able to do this.  

Why San Antonio?

My only answer for that is God. Like I said before San Antonio was the second scariest place I talked to. That's not a reference to the crime rates, by the way.  It's just one of the places that is the furthest from where I've lived both in terms of distance and the city itself.  I've never been to San Antonio, nor have I been to Texas.  I'm not sure what this city has in store for me, but it's time for me to see if I can mess with Texas.  Apparently you're not supposed to do that or something...and it seems like I'm forgetting something. . .OH! The Alamo. According to every general American History class I've taken, I'm supposed to remember the Alamo. 

If anyone ever reads this blog I'm sure there will be more questions, but, for tonight, I need to be done. Feel free to ask and I will answer. I'm an open book.