12.28.2014

Graduation Rumination II - Did I Do Enough?

December 27, 2014.

As the number of days that stand between today and the first day of my last semester at Gordon begin to shrink I’m left negotiating with myself whether the things I did during my nearly 4 years at this school have been enough. Did I take advantage of every opportunity I could? Did I seize the ability to extend myself beyond just classroom learning? Did I do enough? Did I make some sort impact? Did I set myself up for this transition into the real world? Did I ring dry every opportunity, every possibility, every chance? Did I do enough? Are these questions even worth asking, or am I even asking the right ones?

In both high school and college I dedicated my freshman year to be a year of adjustment. I decided early on that I wouldn’t get involved, that I’d focus on my new and more rigorous work load, and in college specifically, adapt to a whole new style of living. Aside from a once a week babysitting job I got second semester, September through May I threw myself into my studies, focused on building new friendships, and allowed myself to build a new home away from home.

But by the time sophomore came knocking as late August turned from carefree nights with friends to once again packing my suitcases I found myself with little desire to commit to really anything. Admittedly, I have a commitment issue when it comes to obligations, work, etc. I can’t commit out of fear that I’ll miss out on some greater opportunity, or as shallow as it is, that commitment robs me of the freedom and flexibility to spend time with friends. So for yet another two semesters, with the exception babysitting now two nights a week, playing one Rec-IM sport in the spring and volunteering at my church once a month, I was rather uncommitted. To be honest, though, I’m not sure how I made it with so much free time all the time...though I fear commitment, and generally resist it, I’m most productive when I’m busier, when my schedule is fuller.

And as yet another August sun set breaking way for a new semester to begin I acknowledged the years I’d already wasted remaining on the outside of what could be a truly rich college experience and prepared myself for what I think I knew early on would be my most committed year of the four. I began the year early as an O-staffer and spent nearly 10 days consumed with training and Orientation. I played two Rec-IM sports, football and soccer, one a semester, I worked on several graphics for my res-hall as a part of an RA assistant type position for hall residents, I applied and got accepted for a mission trip to Haiti for spring break and met weekly with a great team of people, and I began co-leading a Spiritual Life Group in January. On top of this I took a full 16 credit semester, stayed babysitting two nights a week, and with a shortage of volunteers on the AV Team I found myself working nearly every weekend I was at school. As the year began to wind down I hit a wall…several, actually. I kept running myself right into walls. I was exhausted, and before I knew it, I couldn’t pick myself back up again. During the final weeks of school, with my closest friends as my witnesses, I committed to remaining uncommitted my senior year. I wanted an easy year, I wanted my last year to be filled with hanging out with my friends, and doing basically whatever I wanted to do whenever I wanted to do it. Who knew that by the third week of school I’d be itching to do something, anything.

I came back to Gordon for the start of my final year and though I had Orientation, babysitting, AV, and the hope to return to Haiti, I pretty much cut myself off from any other obligation I’d once had. I needed a break, I needed time. But it wasn’t a month in before I looked at my schedule written out and hung on the wall in the kitchen of my apartment and noticed that I had way too much spare time. So began the commitments. I had a new fear that my old fear of commitment had robbed me of opportunity, so I began seeking out places I could get involved. I became a student-to-student mentor for the IRON program and I applied and got accepted to once again travel to Haiti, this time in January and began weekly meetings for that. I applied and got accepted to lead another Spiritual Life Group for the spring semester and I began a structured gym regiment getting to Bennett 5 days every week for nearly an hour and half. These commitments I found myself taking on not only provided me with the ability to grow, learn, and possibly impact others, but they provided me with a sense of worth, worth in both the things I was learning, and worth in myself. My 7th semester wasn’t my busiest by any means, nor was it my least busy. It was somehow, in it’s own right, a decent balance.

But now I’m sitting seven semesters in to an eight-semester career wondering if I’ve done enough? The questions roll like a reel in my mind; was it enough? Did I do enough? Did I learn enough? Did I grow enough? Did I make my 40 grand a year count? Did I make my parents proud? Did I dive deep or spread myself too thin? Did I get a well-rounded college experience? I’m telling you, they’re running through my mind like marathon runners, not just sprinters that get it all over with quick, distance runners that hang in there for the long haul.


There’s nothing I can do now to change the way I decided to spend those first two years, or the way that over commitment tore me down, or the way I let fear cripple my experiences. There’s nothing I can do but focus my eyes on the things I did do, the experiences I did have, the relationships I built, lost, sustained, and reconciled amidst those commitments I did or didn’t have at one time or another. I feel decently content with the experience I’ve had at Gordon. I guess everyone comes out wishing they had done something or not done something at some point down the line, but this life isn’t about regretting the missed chances, it’s about relishing in the seized ones, and man do I have a lot to relish in.

[alc]

12.25.2014

(Semi) Hollowed Holiday's

My heart was drained dry
As the house emptied for the last time
And for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why

It’s the natural rise and fall, I suppose
That’s the way the holidays always go
Set and prep get ready to show

But in an instant a stifling quiet takes hold
Maybe it’s the price of getting old
The unfolding story being over-told

Where there were once 24 now 3 remain
Admittedly it’s more of an ache than a pain
Unchanging routine, but never the same

93 years and I’m part of that story
But oh isn’t it to God be the glory
In this moment I’m told not to worry

But time is changing; escaping from me
No longer that little girl on Santa’s knee

Just a hollow spot near a glistening tree

[alc]

12.15.2014

A Commitment to Action

I know that it isn’t my actions that earn my salvation, but it might be through my actions that I lead another to theirs, so it is pertinent that I live out my faith more fully in my life.

Recently someone very close to me, who isn’t a Christian, expressed interest in coming to church with me. I’ve never been so elated. This truly is the best gift I could ask for this Christmas season. I pray, and would ask you to do the same, that the Holy Spirit works in her heart, softening it and molding it. I pray that this service can be a moment of realization, of awakening, of true understanding. I trust in the Lord that He will be working, and I’ve no doubt that it is He who even sparked the interest in her to attend service.

In light of all of this, I’ve come to a moment of realization myself. As aforementioned, I understand that salvation isn’t earned through actions, faith isn’t a set of rules that must be followed, rather it’s our repentance and our faith that right our estranged relationship with Christ.

Having been raised in a non-Christian home my life is in two parts, my life before my moment of salvation, and my life after. In the wake of my “new” Christianity (at about age 16) I’ve found myself messing up just as much as before my conversion.

However, as a newly defined Christian, those around me call me out on my inability to “practice what I preach.” As a response to this I’ve always become defensive against them. What I’ve come to realize though, it that while I may understand the abounding grace of our Father, non-Christians don’t. While I might understand that it isn’t through my actions that I attain eternal life with God, I must acknowledge that others don’t. And this is simply because they just don’t know yet. They don’t know the powerful love and grace of Christ, they don’t know the call to faith in the way I do, and they don’t know the unexplainable forgiveness of our Lord.


But now I’ve realized that it might be through my actions that they begin to see these attributes of our God. And if my actions lead them into a state of questioning, that ultimately leads them to a moment where their eyes are opened to the truly astonishing love of our Father, then it is more than worth it for me to ensure all of my actions align with the Lords qualities of love, forgiveness, and grace. I know that I’ve been saved, that my life will be lived in a way honoring to God, and that when I do mess up, fail Him, turn from Him, hide from Him, I’ll always be welcomed back to Him when I’ve realized I’ve gone astray. I know that I’m being called to minister this love with those who’ve yet to come to faith. And I know that my biggest challenge in doing this will be living my faith in a way that might lead another into a relationship with Christ. So, I commit myself to a renewed life of love, forgiveness, and grace.

[alc]

12.12.2014

Graduation Rumination I - My Story

December 11, 2014.

Today was my last day of classes of my second to last semester of college, and I’m currently sitting in the living room of this apartment that’s come to be my home for the past four months trying to figure out how that can be. When you come to college you’re handed this pen, and you might not necessarily be aware that you even got it. But you get this pen and you’re told to use it to write your story for all of your time here. And of course, it’s a pen, not a pencil, there’s no going back and erasing the less than favorable memories. The best you can do is scribble it out hoping you don’t look back and remember what exactly it is you scribbled out in the first place. And so you begin writing, kind of shaky at first, not really sure what you should be writing about, but trying to get as much down as possible. Pen meets paper, ink spills out, stories are started. You start to write about all the new friends you’ve made, and the boyfriend you managed to get, and this embarrassing story of when you fell up the stairs into chapel wearing a dress, and the nights you fought with those new friends and tears stained your pillow, and the all nighters you pulled just to get your work done, and the all nighters you pulled kissing a boy in the basement, and the church services that touched you, and those that scared you, and the break-ups, and the lost friends, and the new new friends, and the good roommates and the bad ones. And you write about the nights you laughed so hard you cried, and about the inside jokes, and the number of bowls of ramen consumed, and the job you have and sometimes hate, and the money you spend too recklessly, and the 1 am trips to Marty’s, and the night sky on the walk back from class, and the professor that pisses you off, and the papers you don’t think you’ll ever finish. You write about the tests you aced and the ones you failed, the games you won and those you got disqualified from, the nights God was show to you through friendships, and the nights you were filled with all consuming and crippling doubt. You write about the copious amounts of cookies eaten, and the times Lane food was unappealing, the times you were so homesick you weren’t sure you’d make it through the week, or month, and the times you loved being here so much you never wanted to leave. And suddenly your story really becomes just that, a story, your story. But somehow, it isn’t just yours. It’s at work with everyone else’s stories. All of these stories. All of these moments.


We’re all handed a pen, and with that we all become contributors to this greater story of Gordon College. And one day our story has to end, that’s just the way of things in this world. You have to turn that pen back in, hoping that somehow those things you managed to write were worth it. You see the small part you played in this greater whole, but you soon realize that this place, it’s gonna go on without you. But you have to bear in mind that you, too, will go on. And someday you’ll be handed a new pen, in a new place, for a new adventure, and a new story.  

[alc]

12.09.2014

Home is Changing

These wheels spinning endlessly on the asphalt.
Going nowhere. Somewhere. Anywhere.
And I’m not so sure I’ll ever make it home.
I’m not even sure I know what home is anymore.
Because the places I’ve been,
the people I’ve met,
the things I’ve seen,

are all home to me.

[alc]