...for the Studious Students

Finals.
A time of awful eating and sleeping habits, a season where jeans are always optional and sweats are welcomed by everyone. A time where students learn how to survive on caffeine and disregard social interactions outside of academic buildings. 
Finals.
A time of stress, but also, a time of joy?

Aside from the stress finals may bring you as you rely on seasonal Pinterest and Tumblr pages to distract you from your priorities, thus creating more anxiety later on, finals week can also bring about a time of appreciation and joy. Hidden deep down in your backpack next to the chargers and free red bull, there is a little ziploc holding a handful of joy to carry you through these weeks.

Finals suck and there is no denying this, yet it's all too easy to let it consume you in every way possible. 
As I study for my last final, I repeat one simple, yet very powerful phrase. 
"It's always going to be ok."

No matter what, it will always be ok.

Whether it be a relationship that recently ended or a towing ticket that sets you back $300, even a final you may have bombed or the amount you've let yourself go during finals week, no matter what, in time it will always be ok.

The scars of the break up will heal and you'll date you for a while and appreciate the love you give your deserving self.
You will work back the money you lost or receive a check in the mail from someone who deeply just wants to support you, despite their own financial situation.
You will pass the class, either barely hanging on or with flying colors, and go on living the normalcy of whatever your life was before these two weeks approached.

In the end, the stress we put on ourselves to achieve some high level of greatness will not ever compare to the joy we can allow ourselves to experience.

I may be one of the biggest stress cases I know, yet allowing myself to remain joyful in this stressful yet very prominent holiday season is something we all deserve.
Be joyful, knowing that you are worth so much more than grades on a test.
Be joyful, knowing that you are made for so much more than we allow ourselves to live at times.
Be joyful, knowing that it will always be ok.

We have gone through some awful times in our lives, and for that I am both sorry and grateful. I'm sorry for the pain we have had to endure and the uneasiness we had to sit in. Yet I am grateful for the support found during those times and the season after the storm, the healing process and the growth. It might just be me, but finding joy in my own sorrow can be one of the best forms of healing I practice. 

So as finals wind down and the holiday season kicks into full swing, remember that this is simply another week on your calendar, a moment in time that will pass and leave way for another joyous time to appear.
Remember that amidst the stress you can allow yourself a moment of joy.
Smile.
Laugh.
Be grateful that you have something to be stressed about.
Remember that no matter what you feel now, it will always be ok. 

...for the Thirsty (literally)

So, there's this boy.
Brown shaggy hair, super trendy shades.
And well, we've just started seeing each other.
We even have a spot.
Everyday. Same time.
It all happened so fast really, but he just ran into my life.

Literally.

Well, more of a speed walk.


I was making my typical Tuesday/Thursday trek to the drinking fountains in between classes early this week when this boy walks out of the restroom and into my path, causing me to step aside to let him through. Th gentleman he is, he stepped aside once more, implying I had the right of way. I took the two steps to the shorter water fountain and as I twisted off my water bottle cap, I noticed him waiting. I looked at him and motioned to the higher of the two fountains and told him there was one available (if he somehow couldn't see past me).

"No. I'll wait."

Oh. 

Which has now shifted the entire scenario to one where I'm suddenly this awful burden. 
Everyone has been there. You're that one kid who decides to fill up their water bottle so a line starts to form behind you but you can't do anything since the water is moving at a glacial speed. Thus, you're stuck. And everyone hates you for it even though they've all been there. Yet it's just like driving; you hate the pedestrians until you are one.

Anyways, I drop my binders to the ground and double strap my backpack on so the entire process can move just a little faster. I filled up as quickly as the fountain would allow and walked away a bit confused. I brushed it off and went on with my day.

Today rolls around and I walk to my spot for a refreshing sip of water and who do I see? 
The boy.
Coming from two sides of the hall we meet at the entrance to the doorway for the fountains and what does he do?
He looks at me and without even muttering a word, extends his right hand out in a sassy maitre d sort of way as to say "again? go ahead."

I step forward and, the selfless woman I am, take the higher fountain this time, assuming he wouldn't use it the last time for some height-conscious reason. 
Yet he stood there. And waited. 
I looked his way once again, pointing to the open fountain (because at this point it's clear he can't see what's in front of him) and he rolled his eyes and looked down.
HE LOOKED DOWN. 
Like suggesting he use the fountain was the most idiotic thing anyone has ever done.
I have to say, I'm a little offended. 
What's the point of two fountains when no one insists on using them at the same time? 
The only situation that logically works anymore is a parent with their tiny child, totting around behind them. 
Or best friends. 
Because they do everything together.

I wonder if I will meet this boy in our spot again next week.
I sure do hope so because I am really eager to find out why he insists on sipping alone. 
Nonetheless, I analyzed this a bit further during the analyzing of films in my aesthetics class and felt a pang of sadness.

Are we as a generation so afraid of community that we insist on walking life alone, never allowing ourselves to interact in the slightest way with someone new?

I'll continue to ponder on this while my life plays out like an episode from Seinfeld. 

So, what will you do the next time you reach a water fountain?
Will you step aside and wait as the person before you hurriedly sips away, or will you step forward and leisurely gulp down your water, as the potential to make a new friend rests right beside you. 

...for the Faithful

I give my body one sick day a year. 
That's all it deserves, really.
I have too many things to do to let my body slack off and slump around in a bathrobe while priorities rack up.

Unfortunately, my body had something else in mind. I'm coming off of a four-day cold and to the average joe this may seem short-lived, but for myself -who finds sickness a foreign concept- this bug has overstayed it's welcome.

In fact, I've had a lot of bugs overstay their welcome.
First, cockroaches.
Then, a colony of ants in my kitchen.
Now, the bug that every student at Chapman seems to cough all over everyone else.

I've had more problems in the past month and a half than I ever would have imagined accumulating. In the short timespan of moving out of my cozy home in Irvine and jumping straight into life as a Chapman student, I have lived in two apartments, dealt with physical threats, a towed car, the ending of my jobs,and struggled to make my first payment of rent, all topped off by an obnoxious cough, landing me the title of "That Girl" in the library everyone hates.

Yet I find myself waking up in the mornings reflecting on the positive aspects of this conundrum. 

I've discovered my credit is amazingly high, enjoyed researching for an investigative piece on exploitations in the apartment business, learned how to defend my renter's rights and take a corporation to small claims court, write my own checks, and have consumed a vast amount of soup. And at the end of the day, I'm still alive and counting my blessings.

I can honestly say I had never fully understood the phrase "Praise Him in the Storm" until this season in my life. Because yes, although I wake up in the mornings, drive to school, and find myself crying aloud wondering how I am going to make ends meet or how I even ended up in this situation, I end each upset tear with a joyful one, finding I can still rely on Him through it all. I surprise myself by how much faith I truly do have. And as awful as that may sound, I think there are many of us that can look at our lives and see how every decision we make is laced with doubt and fear that the One we turn to may not provide.

Where in your life are you faced with a battle that leaves you feeling defeated daily?

I'm not perfect, but I'm making strides towards becoming someone filled more and more with a daily joy. 
Yes, I am jobless.
Yes, I bite my nails raw worrying about finances.
And yes, I still despise the neighbor who towed my car.
But at the end of the day I see how blessed I am to be experiencing such trials that I have absolutely no control over.
At the end of my rope, His starts, and it makes sleeping at night just a little bit easier knowing that I can put my faith in Him and give my restless mind a few hours off.

Will you keep pulling on a rope that gives no slack or will you let go and trust in the One who is here to win the tug of war for you?

...for the Planner

It was quite the heated debate.

I shared my thoughts and the rebuttal happened almost immediately.

Words were said.

Words that could never be taken back, and at the end of the day there was still no right answer.

The debate over day planners vs. white boards is one that may never be settled.

As a faithful planner owner I can confidently say that I go nowhere without it. In my room, in my car, in my backpack or next to my purse, my planner acts as a third arm in any appropriate situation (which, in reality, is every situation)

But aside from the witty banter and comical uses regarding my planner, I realize that I do put so much trust into this tiny material item. I rely on this stack of papers held together by a piece of curled plastic to tell me everything I need to know. My scheduled meetings and appointments, work times and preplanned hangouts and find that when I leave the house without it, my day seems unorganized and unproductive.

Living my life out of a planner not only ensures the feeling of dependency but it denies any time for spontaneity and adventure.

For those planners out there, how many times have you realized that the fun you have and the growth you go through is not jotted down on lines on a page or scheduled for you to look forward to?

There are so many times in my life where I tell myself I have to plan for things. And please realize that there are times that planning simply makes sense.

Scheduling a doctor's appointment: Makes sense

Studying for a test: Makes sense

Writing down work schedules: Makes sense (I'd hope)

But there are times in my life where I realize a lack of schedule and the absence of my to-do list was just what I needed.

The days I woke up early and threw a towel and my wallet in my backpack and headed toward the beach.

The times I went on long drives with friends and stopped when we decided the destination was cool enough.

The moments of silence, away from home, where I sat and journaled and allowed God to just sit with me.

These are the times were planning ahead wouldn't have made any sense at all.

For the planners out there, how many times do you wish you could just cut off that third arm?

Something I am always trying to remember is no matter what, the day will happen and the next day will appear just the same. Whether I cross off five things on my list or barely get to one, there will always be another day to get things done.

There will always be another day.

How many days do you want planned out for yourself?

Whether your life is scheduled on a white board or filling the pages of a day planner, find the time to set those aside and step outside the house with an open mind, a blank page, and the opportunity to let yourself grow amidst the unscheduled days.

...for the Summertime Spontaneous

There are a number of things in my life that I deeply enjoy.
I enjoy waking up at 5:30 in the morning to surf with my best friend.
I enjoy singing in my car and pretending I am in a music video.
And I enjoy more than most anything in the world, reading.
Give me a book and I will sit and read for hours (as long as my schedule allows) and I will come back to tell you that no matter what it is I have just read, there is a story to be told.


I look at this element of my life and how intentional I am to seek out the stories these authors are trying to tell and realize that the story I am currently writing doesn't always do the same. As the author of my own life, where am I being intentional in making sure there is always something worth sharing? Worth taking from? Worth living for?


If I am not fully living my life, then what am I doing with it?
More often than not I allow myself to settle for complacency and put off adventure for the fear of risking too much. And to this I realize that by sitting back and letting others write best-selling novels I am risking far more than a chapter or two spent in the hospital recovering from a trek through the Alps or a morning hike gone awry, I am risking the opportunities to build relationships and thrive in new communities. 


As a college student who was blessed to have met lifelong friends and take spontaneous adventures this summer, I am learning day by day to be intentional in my actions and inquisitive in my conversations. For me, these steps are leaps toward a better story. I think at times I run off to the towns these books are based in and tell myself I can be them. I can do those things and take these trips and see other sites but when I imagine all of that happening, the go-getter in me forgets to create a partner in crime or a group of friends to do so with.


As the college student who has had a summer filled with dancing and star gazing, homemade dinners and outdoor concerts, I am that same college student who focuses too much on what it is that needs to be done and not enough on who it should be done with. Because looking back on the summer I have had so far, it wasn't so much what we were doing, but who we were doing it with. It was the nights spent talking and the days laced with challenging questions and new insights that made me reflect on how memorable this summer has been for me.


I fear leaving this season and falling back into the same routine of thinking ahead and always worrying about tomorrow. As college students who have enough on our plate to worry about, I challenge you all to a new adventure, not another line on your already-full to-do lists. 


In the time we have left before we have to pack up our rooms and head back to the familiarity of class schedules and dormmates, I want to send you on an adventure right where you are. Seek out the relationships around you and rewrite the chapters in your textbooks and turn them into novels. 
Be spontaneous.
Be adventurous.
Be intentional.

Let go of the fears of looking back on a life that could have been lived and start embracing the opportunities to create memories and community all around you.

...for the Young Adult

As I shoved the next handful of double stuffed oreos into my mouth, an overwhelming sense of sickness fell across me. It wasn't the half-eaten package of oreos that lay before me or even the exhaustion I felt from the workout I completed earlier in order to feel worthy of eating the oreos. It was caused by the scene that played out before me on the television screen I was glued to.

A young woman sitting alone in her hello kitty t-shirt occupied the booth of a Kentucky Fried Chicken in the middle of Mercury, Minnesota. As she sat in her own presence she devoured a tray full of food. A bucket of chicken, a vat of mashed potatoes, a pile of tacos and a personal pizza covered the table she was sitting in. With that, the scene changed and she was alone yet again. This time in her car, parked outside of the house of a man consumed with reconstructing action figures.

Charlize Theron played the role of Mavis Gary, a ghost writer who left her small town to achieve big goals in the "mini apple" of Minneapolis. The entire movie held a collection of scenes strung together by the underlying defeat of a failed life.

What made this movie depressing was not the town she was visiting. Nor was it the dive bar she would drink for hours in or the vacant Macy's she found herself shopping at, although these added to the effect.

It was the fear in every audience member that their life would end up like hers.

Mediocre.

As a young adult myself I am constantly faced with choices and constantly pushed towards greatness. And although I know I want to be successful and I know I want to achieve greatness, I still lie awake most nights dwelling on the fear that I may never make an impact on this earth.

I fear mediocrity.

I fear ending up alone and looking back at the choices I have made and seeing that they led me to my own downfall. The entire movie was stale, seeping with images of failed lives and people settling for the life they were currently living.

Why do people allow themselves to go through life coasting?

To go through life with out direction?

Without purpose?

Without an ingrained knowledge that we are all deserving of a great life?

As a young adult, I have quite a lengthy life ahead of me. I choose to fight mediocrity with hard work and to always rely on the fact that I am worth so much more than settling.

To you young adults, what will you do?

Will you coast through a stale life of poor choices and missed opportunities, or will you realize that you are deserving of a life of purpose, a life that has you looking forward and far beyond the Mercury, Minnesotas of this world.

...for the Present

6:30am.

Winter break.

Sitting in my car with the heater blasting, I welcomed these brisk mornings with City and Colour playing on repeat. The sun had yet to show its face and the waves were small and mellow.

Perfect.

My kind of morning.

I made the early drive to Blackies before sunrise to avoid the clutter of people in the water. Most times I found myself in the company of old men and girls, the mellowest of crowds, the most welcoming of sessions. As a beginner I craved this environment, the kind of environment that said my errors were a part of the process.

Most mornings shared the same routine.

Paddle out.

Sit.

Think.

Catch a wave.

Repeat.

In the middle of my week however, my solitary routine was joined by the company of an unexpected guest so early in the morning.

I look to my right and a wide-eyed girl about the age of 11 paddled right next to me, her mouth splitting to fit the smile that reached across her face as she set her foam board about 3 feet away from where my feet were dangling. At first I smiled and looked away, waiting for her dad to come right up and push her into the waves filling the next set. But as I kept sitting there, my focus kept drifting toward wherever she was surfing.

She would go for a wave, wipe out, and end up right next to me after every try.

I caught my own wave this time and as I continued riding, I couldn't help but wonder where her dad was.

I looked toward shore and sure enough there he was, watching his daughter paddle next to me, trusting my presence.

We never once spoke. Only one simple wave and a collection of smiles.

All she wanted was that comfort.

All she needed was a strong presence next to her to give her the confidence she needed.

As a mentor to girls in junior high ministry it occurred to me that sometimes, all these girls need is a smile. I don't need to have all the right words to say or know the best action steps to take when confronted with an issue. Sometimes all I need to do is listen and be a strong presence.

Sometimes, all it takes is knowing someone cares to get you through a hard time.

I never once spoke to the wide-eyed girl on the big foam board, but knowing there was a girl she could sit next to in the water gave her the confidence she needed to be out there.

As leaders, sometimes all it takes is to simply wave hello.

...for the Loved

Sunday marked the second week of the Naked Truth series given by Mariners Church.

As Pastor Mike Erre spoke truth into the lives of 200 or so 20-somethings, I started to believe what he was preaching.

I am loved.

I am adored.

I am worth so much more than society tells me I am.

Investing in the lives of junior high girls and being consumed by the jaded misconceptions social media brings about, I have fallen victim to witnessing and taking part in self-loathing.

I have told myself that I am not worth the wait; that I must compromise my morals in order for a boy to express some cold and disconnected form of affection towards me that seeps of guilt and lacks the warmth of true love.

I sat in that room and was overcome not by guilt or regret for past endeavors, but was filled with hope. As a circle of young men surrounded the women in the room to pray over us, I can truly say I felt deeply and madly loved.

Not by the tens of men I had no connection with, but by the image they represented.

This powerful action represented God's unwavering and strong love for not only me, but for every single girl battling society's misconstrued messages:

You need to lose weight.

You need to gain weight.

You need to show more skin.

You need to apply more makeup.

You are never going to be enough.

And we fight these critiques and succumb to some higher power; this worldly power that tells us we are never good enough.

And we deny the messages of the church and of the true higher power that builds us up, not tears us down.

I sat there and as I was being prayed over, I was brought to the thought of my junior high girls. They go to school each day and are preparing themselves for battle. They are told they are ugly. They are told to wear more makeup. They are told to dress a certain way and say certain words in order to be loved by some boy who will give them the short-term attention they are vying for.

I thought of the string of preteens posting videos on Youtube asking unknown users, "am I pretty?"

I thought of the self-loathing and self-destruction I have put myself through and have watched others do the same and said to myself that this has to stop.

So I sit here today and think about the future. I think about the hopes I have and the love I deserve.

I deserve to be told I am pretty without having to ask.

I deserve to be pursued rather than be the girl seeking out attention.

I deserve to find a man who is so madly in love with me that he sees me for who I am, not for who I am not.

I deserve what every other girl deserves; to be loved.

To be truly and joyfully loved.

Because girls, we are wonderfully and fearfully made.

There needs to be a community that fights and opposes the world's harsh views. The question is, who's with me?

...for the Carefree

Ray Bans on with my hair blowing in the wind, my Sperry top siders rested on the dashboard as I glanced past my denim vest and long white skirt reflected in the window. We were headed to San Diego and with the perfect Blink182 playlist, I felt free. Friday afternoon marked the start to what would have been the introduction to my own low budget Sundance film. A movie about college students and an unforgettable weekend, centered around a girl who traveled down the coast in search for something new; new friends, new adventures, and the excitement of finding new music.

We arrived in San Diego and made our way to Soma, the venue painted in black; its only accessory a winding line of teenagers huddled together, wildly anticipating the bands they came to see. Once we made it through the line and past the bouncers, the three of us exchanged smiles and all at once stepped inside the room that held the main stage. Hundreds of bodies filled the venue and we joined the crowds of unfamiliar faces, most covered in brightly colored face paint in support of the opening act. Walk the Moon started the night off with their hit Anna Sun, the lyrics expressing the emotions we all felt but couldn't pinpoint on our own...

"My feet are still sore; my back is on the fringes

We were up against the wall on the west mezzanine
We rattle this town, we rattle this scene"

All at once we were jumping to the beat, grabbing onto whatever hand was closest to share in the beats with. The Ohio natives finished their set and we took a minute to reflect on what we were experiencing. Because yes, this was a concert but this was also so much more. Every person in the room shared the same purpose, the same love for the night. We all came here to share in one experience together, all to feel like something bigger than just concert goers.

The music drew us in but the people kept us there.

Young the Giant killed it and we found Irvine locals to admire their success with, all of us secretly proud we share mutual friends with the up and coming band. The songs played loud and our voices strained to match and as the night went on, insecurities left the room as well. Those who came alone no longer stood alone and those who stood stiff found themselves dancing in sync with the people around them. I tossed my head back and forth and let my arms move as they pleased as my feet danced in the circle of space that I had. It was time for the last song and you could feel the energy rise as we awaited those final moments together. People started crowd surfing and all in one instance a large gap opened up. We rushed the stage and as the chorus blasted, we jumped. All inhibitions we may have been clinging onto were stomped away and lifted high from the crowd as our arms reached toward the ceiling.

This was it. This was the moment all of us were craving.

We came to be apart of a movement, to be apart of a journey the bands would take us on and lead us through so we could escape our lives for just a moment. In that instance, all we had was each other. All we had was our hearts that perfectly aligned if only for a song or two. Driving back home sound bites took up the space in my head as I was sucked back into the vibrations of wall to wall music. My feet were aching and I could feel the stiffness in my legs as they familiarized themselves with what it felt like to sit down. My neck ached in a few key spots but the smile still clung to my face, so reluctant to leave the night behind.

I found what I was in desperate search of this weekend.

I wasn't just a concert goer for a two nights in a row.

I was a lovesick fan who shared a smile onstage with the lead singer of Twin Atlantic.

I was a college student who took a weekend road trip to support a local band.

I was a girl who found the adventure she was looking for and I found it in the music.

I was part of something bigger than just a concert, I was part of a journey only we in those rooms could experience together.

I was carefree.