Change.

The school year is almost over, and I am in a bit of shock. I can't believe that I'm at the end of my freshman year. I mentioned to my roommate on a camping trip this weekend that we were only going to be living together for less than two weeks, and I almost started crying. I almost cried again when I thought about not having the same corefas (small group leaders) next year. That's the problem with me. I just want to hold people close and never let anything change. But change is good...right? I mean, you never get to have new experiences if you hold everything tight to your chest.
Next year I'm rooming with a girl on my floor who's too awesome to describe in a blog post, but I'll just say that she's a lover of Jesus, a resident of Alaska who's moving to Montana this summer, and an eater of meat (she assumes that I always describe her as a meat eater since she always tells people I'm vegan, so I just had to put that in there). But anyway, she's totally awesome and I'm excited to get to know her better through living with her next year.
And apparently God has called me to be a corefa next year, which is still kind of crazy to me. I'm not exactly the most qualified person for the job, but I guess God wants me there so I'm sure it will work out.
I know that God has grown me in myriad ways this year and I shouldn't just stay where I am, but I am going to miss the way things are now a lot.
Sorry for the sentimental post. To make up for it, here's a joke:

A man walks into a bar...
...
...
...
...
...
OW!

That's the best I've got. What, you're saying I shouldn't go into stand-up comedy? But this is America--what about my dreams?
Heh-heh. Enjoy the summer (or the remainder of classes), and DFTBA.

God, The Fault in Our Stars and other bits of awesome.

I'd been wanting to read John Green's newest novel, The Fault in Our Stars, since it came out, but I am still clueless about how the Bellingham library works and I can't exactly afford to buy books. However, the other day I suddenly remembered that my lovely grandmother had given me an Amazon gift card for Christmas, and I immediately ordered the book. (Well, as soon as logging into Amazon, of course.) I started reading it last night when it arrived, and I finished it tonight. I think that I'd forgotten how much I loved reading. College--and writing on my own book quite extensively--had just drained me of energy for reading, but the more I think about the more I realize that's an awful mindset. I will always have to do something, and if I want to just wait for time to do the things that matter then I will never end up doing them.
Anyway. On to the book...
It was absolutely phenomenal. I've always loved John Green's works, but this is, from my opinion, his best. It is profound and funny, but also heartbreaking and real. It's one of those books that you pick up and in fifteen pages you already know it's going to be one of your favorites. So, yeah. You should read it, library or no. (Side note: for the first time ever while reading a novel, since I'm woefully unconnected with pop culture, I understood all of the allusions and felt extremely nerdy and extremely proud at the same time. DFTBA.)

[Insert awkward segue here], and, so, I'm pretty much in awe of what God has been doing in my life lately. I think that that for the majority of my life, I experienced little bursts of spirituality that honestly never really amounted to much other than contented complacency. I wanted to share my faith all the time, become hardcore, and fall completely in love with Jesus, but it never exactly happened.Well, things are different now. I don't know if I can adequately put into words what God has been doing in my heart (or if I'm truly hardcore--what does that even mean, anyway? I don't have abs made of steel), but it's quite terrifying and great. I think one of the most striking things that I've been learning, though, is that you might have your first big "surrender" when you accept Christ and all that, but the surrendering doesn't really stop there. You have to do it all the time because you forget that first time so easily.
I've also broken my little comfort bubble and asked people spiritual questions for Discipleship Class and gone conversational evangelizing. Yes, I'm rather incredulous as well.

God is kind of awesome.

Africa

Remember when I told you guys that I'm going to Africa this summer? Well, it's really, really happening, and I've started sending out letters. I'm posting my letter on here, so feel free to read it if you want to find out about my trip!

~~

Happy New Year! I can hardly believe that Christmas has already past and I’ve already started my second quarter at college. Last quarter, I became involved with Campus Christian Fellowship and joined a few clubs.  I also felt the Lord’s calling to apply for a Jesus Film mission trip to Burundi, Africa. Ever since the Cru (formerly Campus Crusade for Christ) US Staff Conference, I’ve had this incomprehensible urge to go to Africa, so I took one of Jesus Film trip brochures. Although finances were tight and I was uncertain of my future, I was convinced that God wanted me to apply.

About a month later, during Thanksgiving break, I received my acceptance email. I am going to Africa. Every time I say those words, this giant rush of joy and excitement runs through me.  I have no doubt that God has wanted me to go all along, and I am exited to see him working through me and the rest of my team in Burundi.

Burundi is a small African country surrounded by Rwanda, Tanzania, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. My team and I will travel to several rural villages there and put on showings of the Jesus Film in the native languages. Burundi has three official languages—French, Rundi, and Swahili—plus countless other dialects. I’m currently learning a bit of French, but we will have translators to help us communicate with the people. Some of the people we will reach will never have heard the gospel before, and I get to share that with them!

As excited as I am about Burundi, I cannot go alone. This trip will cost about $4000, more than I have in my bank account. I hope that you will pray about supporting me both spiritually and financially. A gift of $50, $100, $300—or however much you feel led to give—would help tremendously on my journey. Although you might not be able to go to Burundi personally, helping to send me there will transform lives.  

If you choose to send a check, please make it out to Cru and send it to my dorm address.

Thanks so much!

Blue Hair, Green Converse, and Certifiable Insanity

Remember, oh about a couple of months ago, how I told you I was giving you a salutatorian speech and then had to admit that was a misunderstanding and I actually was not giving a speech? Well...it turns out I lied to you twice. Sorry!
Recently, I got a call from my high school counselor that said I actually could give a speech if I wanted. Either way, it was up to me. And do you know what I said?
Do. You. Know. What. I Said?
I said yes.
Actually, instead of "yes," I'm almost positive I said "sure" with a self-assured, carefree inflection to my voice. Staring blankly at the receiver, my insides lunged to recapture that abhorrent little word, but it was too late. Some convoluted part of me had already committed to a mission of certain death.
As I'm sure you are already aware, I am not a public speaker. Aside from my Spanish class this quarter, which has eight people and requires participation, I almost never speak in class. I write just about all the time, but verbally expressing those words in front of ten (or several thousand) people is pretty terrifying.
Myself and I, we had a long talk after agreeing to make that speech. On one hand, I was of course terrified. But on the other, I was secretly proud of myself. I knew that I was probably going to stumble over my words and make an utter fool out of myself on Graduation Night. But if I'd declined, I think I would always regret it.
I want to go out and change the world, and there's no way I can do that if I can't talk in front of people.  So, just to cement my stupidity for all eternity, I got two strands of my hair bleached and dyed blue the day before (to match my school colors of red and blue, of course) and started preparing.
When I first wrote my speech weeks before, I kept going over and over it, feeling oddly guilty but not knowing exactly why. Then, one night I was talking with my mom about graduation (who was dying to know what my speech was about, since I quite obstinately would not share it with anyone). She challenged me to put God in my speech, and that's when I realized exactly why it hadn't worked before. Leaving God out of my speech to please high school administrators was, in essence, lying. My Christianity is part of my identity, so giving a salutatorian speech and not mentioning my faith would be like going up there and mising part of my face or something. So I reworked it the night before the deadline and turned it in and, to my surprise, my counselor didn't cross out the "G-word" with red ink or phone me with directions to rewrite. Even during practice, he didn't say anything. I could hardly believe it.
The night before graduation, I barely slept, thinking about standing up in front of thousands of people to talk about the future, following one's passions, and God: no small task for one eighteen-year-old. By the time I ascended the stage decked out in my red robe, green Converse, and blue hair, though, all the butteflies had practically vanished. My voice was clear and I barely stumbled at all over my words.
When I returned to my seat, this huge feeling of relief washed over me. I did it. Now that I (voluntarily!) gave a salutatorian speech, I can do anything. I'm reminded of the verse Philippians 4:13, which says, "I can do all things through Christ who strenghtens me."
Huzzah!

Forgiveness?

Cilization.
A mere five syllables, this word has been the grounds for urban sprawl, war, and ambiguous, never-ending "progress." Moving forward.
Okay, you got me--this is a post on...politics! Well, sort of. So feel free to stop reading now if you'd like, but I just felt like I had to say something.
Personally, I can't understand why America is thrilled that Osama Bin Laden, who in their minds symbolized terrorism, has been killed.
Yes, he was dangerous. Yes, he should have been apprehended and been punished for what he did. But...murder? Osama killed Americans because his religion taught him we are "evil." And why did we kill Osama again? Hmm.
I know the death penalty is a sensitive topic, so sorry if I offend, but I don't believe in it. At all. (Osama didn't get a fair trial either, but that is an entirely different matter.)
I just have to believe that there is hope for everyone, whether they are cheaters, liars, mass murderers, or sociopaths. Jesus died on the cross so that everyone can be saved, not just the people who go to Sunday school, obey curfew, and pay their taxes. During his ministry, he hung out with prostitutes, tax collectors (the corrupt kind),. and all sorts of ungodly people.
Osama Bin Laden destroyed countless Americans' lives, so saying that he"deserved" death is sort of, well, obvious. But honestly, who doesn't? God is one-hundred percent rightous, so having just one--one!--bad thought is enough for eternal separation from him. Then Jesus died and rose again, a power great enough to break every curse laid by sin.
God valued life enough to send his only son down to the world to die so that all of humanity could have a second chance. If God can forgive the very people who nailed his blameless son to the cross and murdered him, then he could forgive Osama Bin Laden. Only...it's too late.
I know it's really easy to get caught up with the idea of "justice," but I really don't think that it merits taking the life of another human being. God is just and everyone will give an account of their sins and triumphs at the end, but there is always redemption until the last breath.
There is always forgiveness.
So this is me, getting off my soapbox, smiling sheepishly, and taking an awkward little bow. Until next time, dear reader!

Indoor soccer, war, and all things frightening

I used to watch sports movies in which the "other" team would be so horrendously rude, mean-spirited, and awful that I resigned them to works of fiction incapable of existing in the real world. Because, no one really acts like that....right? Apparently I was wrong. I'm not going to bore you with a long account of last night's indoor soccer game, but I will say that it just about destroyed my perception of humanity (okay, that's a bit on the dramatic side, but you get the point). There were pointless slammings into walls, pushes resulting in penalties, and one horrific instant where someone very purposefully sat on my teammate's head (who was then rushed to the hospital with a concussion). And while she was lying on the field crying with the coach and medic surrounding her, one of our opponents started doing a victory dance. The horror of it was, the game didn't even really matter. It. Was. Just. A. Rec*. League. Game.

*Rec - (adj) enjoyable and/or relaxed exercise. See: recreation.

If I'd wanted to play an extremely competitive and hateful sport, I would've taken up rugby, Foosball, or Quidditch. There are a few possible explanations for the other team's uncalled behavior, though: 1) They thought "rec" stood for record, as in the World Cup of Indoor Soccer or some other ostentatious title, 2) They were secretly cheap assassins hired out to murder the members of our team (but failed, thankfully), 3) Playing soccer *somehow* reminded them of prom when Billy Joe stood them up and they never got proper revenge, 4) They forgot to tell us that they really were trying out for a part in the next B-movie, Kleats, Grass Stains, and Broken Ribs, and the director was there and everything, or 5) Yeah. I got nothin'. They were just awful.

The soccer game, awful as it was, reminded me that the human race is in desperate need of saving. I'm sure some of the members on the other team are good people (at least off the field, anyway). They knew how to have a good time and most of them shook our hands at the end, but during the game they transformed into something terrifyingly supercilious and self-absorbed. "Good" people, deep down, are really selfish and cold.

Wow. I just depressed myself.

But all kidding aside, that's not the end of it! Humanity is heartless, but God isn't. No matter how awful the soccer game, he wants all of the team members for his own. Whether people express their hatred outwardly or keep it all inside, it's just as lethal. But God can (and already has) rescued humanity from this hatred and malice...with Jesus. They might not accept it or make a change, but the hope is there.

Stranded

What I'm Listening to: Grow Old with Me (The Postal Service) Airplanes. Those wonderful travel mediums that decimate trip time and make traveling a breeze. Right... For my seventeenth birthday, my parents gave me a plane ticket to go down to Little Rock for a few days and attend a conference with speakers Eric and Leslie Ludy (both of which I highly recommend, by the way!). After waking up at 3:00 a.m. (not without a few yawns and stretches), I left my grandmother's house for the airport. The first flight was as smooth as butter. I got to the next airport in time and made my connection easily. However, sitting on the airplane, the pilot announced that the temperature control was broken and some mechanics were on the way to fix it. Nearly half an hour later, the mechanics arrived and began working on the problem. Paperwork took another fifteen or twenty minutes, but then we started moving again. I was getting excited--I was going to make it after all! Not so. The plane still had to be "de-iced." Unfortunately, the de-icers were the slowest de-icers in the history of de-icing and we weren't on the runway for at least another half-hour. All in all, I missed my last connection by ten minutes, a forty-minute flight to Little Rock from Memphis. The next flight was in about four and a half hours so I decided to grab some Starbucks and a good book and hang out for awhile. Waiting for my next flight, I bumped into a friend who was visiting Little Rock from college and we chatted for a little bit before boarding the plane. To my dismay, the flight attendants "de-boarded" us because Newark-bound customers apparently had precedence over us. We were assigned to a plane with technical difficulties, which--you guessed it!--never ended up being fixed. An airport employee assured us that a bus was coming to take us to Memphis, but we had our doubts. I found some chocolate in my suitcase, hand-delivered by an angel herself (my grandmother), and Jeannie and I enjoyed a few moments of heightened endorphins. Against all odds, the bus finally arrived and we stepped onto our ride home. At first, I was really bitter about the whole thing. The airport wasted my time with my friends and I didn't have much time before I had to go back home. Only later did I realize why the whole thing happened. I think God purposefully delayed my plane to teach me an all-important lesson: it's not all about me. Had I made my connection, my friend Jeannie would have had to undergo that ordeal alone while I partied it up in Little Rock. And I would never have had that incredible opportunity of witnessing God's provision firsthand. I guess being stranded doesn't get the repute it should.