To Freely Give

I’ve always been a firm believer in authenticity. Believing that the best friendships and relationships are ones born out of genuine, real, honest, and vulnerable conversations. I’ve always been an open book, willing and happy to share almost anything with anybody who wanted to know. I’ve been quick to trust and quick to extend grace, love, and forgiveness allowing myself to trust again. I’ve always been told I’m too open, too easily trusting, and that I need to “guard my heart.” Not even always in the dating sense, just in a general sense.  But I’ve never believed it. I’ve never bought into the idea that I could somehow be more content if I kept more to myself, if I was more cautious with what I shared and with whom. I’ve never believed it and I’ve never wanted to believe it.

But somehow I’m beginning to realize that there is so much value in selective sharing. There are people in this world who will always have your back and always protect you. But there are also people in this world who are in it for themselves. Knowing the difference is essential, but it might be one of the hardest differences to discern, because even those who are in it for themselves will come across as if they’re in it for you. It’s a scary and sad thing that we have to discipline ourselves to act with this discernment. It would be so easy to live in a world where gossip didn’t exist, and people didn’t go behind people’s backs, and things didn’t end up getting back to everyone.

The worst part about all of this is that I’m a hypocrite. I’m just as guilty of talking badly about people, or gossiping about someone, or the classic “well so and so told me not to tell anyone, but I’ll tell you as long as you promise not to tell anyone.” We’ve all done it at one point or another, but I can’t stand to live in these tangled webs anymore. And the easiest way to ensure that what I tell someone in confidence doesn’t get out to people is to just not tell them anymore. It’s as simple as that. There’s one thing that’s as true about life as our needing oxygen to survive, and that is that you cannot control what other people are going to do, you can only control what you do.

I just wrote a short poem about not allowing life to callous our once tender souls, but I believe I’ve become calloused. Time has worn on this tender soul and turned it rough on the edges. I know I’ll learn to trust again, just as time wore down on my heart it’ll just as surely wear away the hardened edges, softening it again to authentic relationship. I just hope that this time I wouldn’t let myself forget the pain that can come from being too open with too many people. I hope that as my heart is molded and shaped I would be able to find a balance between being authentic and being cautious, that I wouldn’t let myself share so much so soon with so many people. Rather, that I would be able to pursue truly knowing someone, and commit to keeping whatever they trust with me to myself.

I desire change in how I handle relationships. I desire for a shift in how much I let people in. The only trouble is, no matter how much I desire a change; it doesn’t make changing any easier. Just because it’s what I want doesn’t mean I’ll be able to easily attain it. It’ll take time, and I’m sure I’ll mess it up a few times along the way. But I want to work through the difficulty of being acutely aware of what I’m willing to share in order to better protect myself. It makes me so sad and almost guilty to admit that trust is something I’ll have to gain from people when it’s always been something I’ve freely given. I hate that I have to shift my focus in such a way.

I once had a conversation with a friend who asks people really good questions. I wanted to be more like him in the sense that his conversations with people seldom focus on himself. It’s so admirable to see a person so invested in others and I respect his ability to discern who he’ll open up to. I might try this as a means of self-preservation. If I focus my perspective outwards I’ll be able to better filter how much and how soon I share things with others. Trust is built over years, but can be broken in a moment. I’ve learned what it means to trust and be trusted, but I’ve also learned what it looks like when trust is broken. I’ve always been quick to trust, but (sadly) I’m starting to understand that sometimes you have to allow trust to be built.

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Graduation Rumination VI - A Season Of Lasts

February 28, 2015.

Last night was my last Gordon Globes. That doesn’t seem like all that big of a deal, but it kind of is because it is yet another moment in the season of lasts. That’s all this year has seemed to be, really, a series of lasts, one after another, and it all started August 27^th – my last first day of school (wow that was 6 months ago). And then my last fall hill grill, my last homecoming weekend (as a student), my last Golden Goose, my last quad break, and my last Halloween. My last college birthday, my last Day of Prayer, my last Thanksgiving, my last fall finals. My last Christmas break, my last trip to Haiti with Gordon, and my last start of spring semester. My last school snow days, my last college Super Bowl, and my last Gordon Globes. It is the year of lasts, and there's so many more lasts to come.

There is an unmatched finality that comes with being a senior. Everything you’ve come to know so well is fleeting, and with that you must say goodbye to tradition, to routine, to what you’re accustomed to. It’s crazy, really, the way things end. The way you go through an entire year facing your last experience of any given situation. The way an entire lifestyle you’ve nestled yourself into starts to lose its definition and bleed into the unknown. I knew the morning of August 27^th when Emily and I took this Instagram that this year would be a tough one. I didn’t realize exactly how tough it would be until I started to slowly say goodbye to everything I've known since coming to Gordon. It’s as if I began this year perceptually reoriented to see everything through the lens of graduation. (Which according to How I Met Your Mother is an actual thing – graduation goggles).

                                        ***

There’s something about the beauty of things that are fleeting, and that’s been affirmed in how I’ve come to value every experience I’ve had this year. As hard as it is to acknowledge the finality of so many things, it’s made me a heck of a lot more grateful for the experiences I've had and have to come. And in a way I’ve come to appreciate my impending graduation, because it’s made me see Gordon in a whole new light (but that’s another story altogether).

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to be a writer

To be a writer

is to find beauty in

            and between
the written word.

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Tender Soul

The world ought not be

a place that makes

your once tender soul
so calloused.

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Finally, Three Months Later

            I knew it was him sitting under the mango tree that Friday afternoon. It was nearly 1:00 and as the taptap bumped and jostled its way beyond the red gate reading “CEMEPID CENTRE MEDICAL PARTNERS IN DEVELOPMENT” I spotted him: red shirt, little hands, big eyes. I blinked rapidly and my legs began to bounce with anticipation. I was filled with an unsuppressable desire to jump right out of that moving taptap. But my civilized rationale reasoned that I’d be better off if I remained in the vehicle until it came to a full and complete stop.

            As we finally rolled to a stop outside the bunkhouse I shot up from my seat farthest inside the taptap. When we left the worksite in Canaan we had just over an hour to make it back to the compound in Blanchard and get ready for our afternoon trip to the shops in Port-Au-Prince. I realized now we only had 45 minutes to wash the cement off our legs and the dirt and dust out of our hair. I had no choice but to neglect my desire to run to that little boy under the mango tree and instead run, yes run, through the bunkhouse to the showers.

            All my life I’ve been known amongst my friends and family for taking exceptionally fast showers, and if for no other moment but this, I am thankful for my near 21 years of training in shower efficiency. For it wasn’t more than 10 minutes later that I was dressed with my straw-like but soaking wet hair pulled back into the 9^th braid of the week. Despite the chilly water in the shower, the Haitian heat had me sweating again as I raced back out of the bunkhouse, my eyes darting to the benches beneath the mango tree. There he was in the shade of the branches: red shirt, little hands, big eyes. I walked over trying to compose myself as to not overwhelm this little joy, and as I approached I heard Mr. Genois, the social worker asking for me.

            “Hi, um I’m Amanda!” I said, my voice overly eager, and my pace picking up to a jog.

            My nerves were settled as Mr. Genois’ lips parted revealing the most genuine and loving smile. In it I could see his passion for the work he’d spent so much of his life committed to doing. He’s been working with Partners In Development for over a decade and as the head of social work oversees the entire child sponsorship program. I first met Mr. Genois in March of 2014 and was so impacted by his work at PID. While he was one of the many faces I remembered from my first time here, I was sure it wasn’t until now that he’d remember me, too.

            Mr. Genois greeted me and told me in broken English that this was Jean Louis Docera. My ears caught as I finally heard the correct pronunciation of his name, Dough-sir-ah. For nearly four months I’d been reading it as Dough-Sarah. It struck me as odd that I’ve been pronouncing his name wrong for so long, but before I could get too caught up in my own thoughts I found myself squatting down to his level.

            I opened my arms, and after a beat Jean Louis threw himself into what was one of those hugs you just can’t shake off, the kind that you still feel long after it’s ended. The moment felt like it was happening in slow motion but in hyper speed all at the same time. I began sponsoring this little boy 6 months after my first 10 days in Haiti, 9 months and an eternity ago. And after three months of praying for his photo on a screen I met this little joy, and what a joy he already was. I couldn’t contain the excitement I was feeling and it was surging through nearly every vein in my body. After pulling back I was struck again by how big his little eyes were.

            “Bon soir,” I said, exhausting a third of the creole phrases I knew.

            “Bon soir,” he said back to me, his voice soft and high-pitched.

            “Ki jan ou ye?” I asked, him. To which he responded “pas plus mal.” Not too bad, what five year old in America would ever say he was “not too bad” when asked how he was? I pondered the formality of his answer for only a moment before forcing the thought out of my head. Standing up, I greeted his mother, repeating the only creole greeting I knew.

            It was just past 1 o’clock, right in the middle of the workday, and the clinic was in full swing. The only people who could translate for me were busy translating for the American nurses working in the clinic. I was lucky if I snagged one of them long enough to translate a sentence or two at a time. As a result, in the half hour I spent with Jean Louis I was able to ask his birthday, May 20^th, tell him I loved him, and learn from his mother that they would pray for me everyday, as she knew I was praying for them everyday. Beyond this, any verbal communication was for nothing, both his mother and I spoke in short phrases, me in English, and she in Creole, each knowing full well the other couldn’t understand but smiling in affirmation to one another nonetheless.

            But that day it didn’t matter what was said. It was the joy I could see in his glistening eyes as we kicked the tiny size 3 soccer ball back and forth that made up for any lack of communication we had otherwise. It was his smile that nearly drove me to tears right there in the open that meant more than any quickly translated phrase. And even though the clinic was buzzing with people, members of my team darting in and out of the showers and running back and forth from the bunkhouse to the kitchen, and a few close friends gathered around me with cameras flashing, it felt like me and Jean Louis were the only two people in the courtyard that Friday afternoon.

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Graduation Rumination V - A Letter

February 13, 2015.

Dear Freshman Amanda,

You’re about to begin an incredible journey. The four years you’ll spend in college are unlike any other time in your life. Because for four years you get to live with all of your closest friends. For four years you get to take classes in things you’ve always wanted to learn about, and you get to partake in clubs and events that you’ve always been interested in. During your time in college you’ll discover so much about who you are and who God is. College is a time of growth, it’ll give you some of your best days, and probably some of your worst. It’ll be filled with so many memories, so many late night laughs, and so many times the stress of it all just got the best of you. But if there’s anything I’ve learned during my four years in college, it’s the following:

You’re going to make friends. A lot of friends. Cherish those friendships, they’re the ones that shape and define who you are. Surround yourself with people who love you, and who draw you nearer to the Lord. You’re also going to lose friends. But it will be okay, I promise. At the time, it feels like the end of the world. Losing a friend is never easy, but sometimes it’s for the best. Some people, no matter how much they mean to you, or how close you become, are only meant to be in your life for a season. Cherish the relationship for what it was, just because it didn’t last forever doesn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful.

You’re going to date. You’re going to meet a boy and fall in love and it will be incredible. You’ll learn what it means to love another person, and you’ll be challenged in so many ways. You’re going to grow so much. But you’re also going to experience heartbreak. The future you spent so long picturing will be shattered, and you’ll have to figure out how to pick up the pieces and move on. But know this, you will move on. You’ll find people to carry you, and you’ll learn what it truly means to lean on the Lord and surrender to Him.

You’re going to crack under the stress of finals. No matter how much you try and avoid it, finals week, at one point or another, will break you. But fear not, because it can only last for so long, and at the end of it you can go home and not think about school for a while. And anyways, grades aren’t everything. Invest in them, learn to love education, but don’t beat yourself up if you don’t make the GPA you wanted by the time you graduate. It really wont matter in the long run.

You’re worldview is going to be shattered. Whatever you thought you knew about life will be completely obliterated in the wave of diversity you’ll experience. You’ll come to know people of completely different backgrounds than yours, you’ll take classes in things you’ve never learned about before, and you’ll hear from speakers with totally different perspectives. Don’t just believe whatever you hear, but don’t be so stubborn and set in your ways that you don’t actually listen. Use what you learn to shape your own worldview.

You’re going to let fear stop you. It’s terrible, but it’s inevitable. You’ll want to be an RA, but you wont because of fear of getting placed in a residence hall you’re uncomfortable in. You’ll want to go on a mission trip but you’ll be terrified out of your mind. You’ll want to get involved in clubs but wont because doing something new is scary and can be challenging. Do it anyways. Don’t let any opportunity pass you by because you’re scared. Feel the fear and do it anyways. Give your fears to God and do it anyways.

You’re going to let your hill pride get in the way. The hill is a great place to live, but it’s not everything. There are some pretty awesome people on lower campus. Don’t let your hill mentality inhibit you from making friends in road halls. It’s a hike, but it’s worth it. Get to know people you don’t just run into in your dorm. Even if it feels forced and awkward, just do it. These relationships might turn out to be the ones that impacts you the most.

You’re going to get lazy. Don’t. The gym isn’t that far, the snow isn’t that bad, it isn’t that cold. Wherever you want to be, whatever you want to do, find a way to do it. Netflix in bed always seems like the better option until you’re actually doing what you were too lazy to do. Get out and do things. You wont remember the days you spent in your room because it was raining outside and you didn’t feel like walking to another friend’s room. What you’ll remember are those moments shared with the amazing people you have just a walk away. The walk may seem far, but it’s the closest they’ll ever be.

You’re going to hate it. One day you’ll wake up and hate every single thing about it. You might ever wake up 100 days and hate it. On those days, focus on the good. Turn your eyes to the Lord, rest in the things that are going well, and find a way to hold on. The good days are coming, they might be right around the corner, so please don’t lose sight of why you love it.

You’re going to dislike your roommate. And sometimes your roommate will be your friend. Don’t lose them because their living habits conflict with yours or end up annoying you. The best thing you can do is learn to love them for who they are in spite of the things they do that bother you. Cherish them, love on them, be grateful for them. Living with people is hard, but it can work. Make it work. Fight for it to work.

You’re going to let your spiritual disciplines get lost in the business. You’ll set it a last priority above school work, spending time with people, or just procrastinating. Don’t. Commit to spending time alone with God each and every day. Make it a part of your life. Ingrain it into who you are. Set aside time to dive into your relationship with the Lord, it’s the only one you’ll surely have for life, and the only one that won’t be gone once you graduate. There’s no more important relationship to develop than that with the Lord. Give Him thanks, give Him praise, turn to Him with your doubts and fears and anxieties, He love you anyways.

You’re going to take it all for granted. You’ll go to sleep one night a freshman and you’ll wake up a senior. Four years seems like forever when you’re packing up your things and moving away from home, but it is going to go by so fast. Hold on to it. Don’t ever for a moment take anything for granted. Don’t take for granted your friends, don’t take for granted your RD, don’t take for granted you experiences and opportunities. Don’t take a single thing for granted, because it’s going to fly by. You won’t even realize it, but it’ll be gone, and you wont ever be able to get it back.

Cherish everything, cherish the pain, cherish the little moments and the big, cherish the sun and the rain and the snow, the food you don’t like that much and the late nights alone in the cubicle in the library. Cherish the Chapels you can’t focus in, and the meetings you attend, and the sports teams you play on, and the books you read. Cherish the struggles and cherish the victories. Cherish these years, because they are worth cherishing.

College is one of the most uniquely beautiful times in life. But one day it’ll slip away into a memory, so do everything you can to make it a good one. Make your story complete; don’t leave any blanks, don’t miss any chance. Do what you’re afraid to do, and do what you love. Push yourself to take risks, but discipline yourself to be smart. Make good choices, but also make mistakes. Challenge yourself to bigger things, but don’t beat yourself up when you fall short. You’ve got four years ahead of you, do whatever you can to make them the best they can be.

With love,

Senior Amanda 

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Graduation Rumination IV - 100 Days

February 5, 2015.

The day I moved into college in August of 2011 exactly 1,366 days stood between me and graduation. Now there’s 100.

It’s crazy to think that 1,266 days have passed since I began Orientation here at Gordon. And it’s even crazier to think back on all of the memories that filled those 1,266 days. All of the people I’ve met, experiences I’ve had, places I’ve gone, the daily tasks that became routine, and the big moments that came around every once and a while. Four falls, four winters, three (but soon to be four springs). Four Golden Geese, three (but again soon to be four) Gordon Globes, an Inaugural Ball, Winter Ball, movies on the quad, mass snowball fights, countless trips to Marty’s at 1am, Hill Grills and King of the Hills. There’s been so much that’s happened, so many things that have collectively shaped my college experience.

I look back on those 1,266 days and realize that through the good and bad, there’s not a single thing I’d change if I could. Every experience I’ve gone through, every event, every friendship, every class, everything has shaped me. I’m so thankful for the privilege to spend my four years of college at such a beautiful school that’s full of so many wonderful people and amazing opportunities. I know in the past I’ve not been thankful enough for the blessing that it is to call Gordon home. In fact, there were days I hated it here, or at least thought I did at the time, and the days in between I took it for granted.

But now I look at the calendar and there’s only 100 days left and I’m wondering how that can be. My goal for the next 100 days is to make the most of every opportunity and experience I can. I only have 100 days left before college is just a memory, and I don’t intend to spend a single day of it dwelling on the little things, getting caught up in the chaos, or being unhappy. I’m thankful for the 1,266 days that are done, and I’m excited for the 100 days left to come.

Photo Credit: 100 Days till Graduation Facebook Page

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