Different Perspective

Have you ever sat back and viewed your life from another perspective? from someone else's point of view? Have you ever really stopped what you were doing for a few moments just to contemplate where the next step will take you? It seems like I've been doing that a lot lately. I've been home for the past four days and last night was the real eye-opener. My mom and my sister, Rachel, were sitting in the living room talking about random stuff. I was brushing my teeth, but caught a few words spoken by my mom. She said, "Becky is married and out of the house, you've been married for two years now and have a daughter, and now Ruth isn't really living here anymore either."

"So," I thought to myself as I finished up making sure my teeth were thoroughly clean, "if I don't live here anymore...where DO I live?" I don't live in Boise; I've only been home about 20 days out of the year so far and I only plan to come back twice more before school starts in September (only for about 2-3 days each time). I don't live in College Place; living with 200 other girls doesn't really constitute a good living arrangement (one I wish I could change before next summer). Most weekends, I spend in Milton-Freewater with Becky and Jason, but there is nothing there that I call my own, except for maybe a bed (that all other guests use as well). It seems as though every other weekend, I am packing my suitcase to go somewhere else, and it is for this reason that I really don't think I live anywhere...or maybe I live everywhere I go. Am I really living, though?

(Photo: Caesar Creek State Park, Ohio)

I've been attending the University Church religiously (no pun intended) ever since I arrived in College Place, and every time, I feel as though I'm still running on empty when I leave that sacred place. I feel there is no fellowship in that church, well none that I'm a part of, anyway...and none I can find either. I don't feel a part of any church anymore. Now, I find myself waking up Sabbath mornings thinking, "Wow. What am I doing here?" And, you know what? I still have not figured out the answer to that question.

Even though I am in college, I still get asked what my "plan" is, almost as though I'm supposed to have the next five years completely figured out, from start to finish, which in all reality, is a little silly. If you engrave your plan in stone, then what does God have to work with? Seriously, where does the need for God come into your life if the whole thing is planned out to what you want to do? What would happen if we trusted God more and planned out our own lives less? What would happen if we gave up what we thought we needed and wanted at any given moment, and instead let God work through our lives in His time? What would happen if we gave our lives to God (all of it, every single part of it), and said, "God, it's yours. All of it. Every single part of my life, I give to you. Let it work to your glory and honor." What would happen then?

I have found that when I give my plans to God and tell Him, "Your will be done," it happens. Amazing, incredible, fantastic things happen that I never would have believed if I didn't think God had control all the while. Last fall was an example of this. I did something that I had no intention of going through with, something I found the hardest thing for me to do. But, it was something that God had been gently nudging me to do. After I had followed through with what I believed to be God's will, I felt this great hold on my heart and soul give way and I could finally breathe again. Though it was a painful experience, it's what needed to happen.

Another example was when I went down to Mississippi to help out with the relief efforts after Hurricane Katrina wreaked havoc on the gulf states in 2005. I was very scared to go through with it, and I didn't even know if I should go or not, mostly because of the fear I was feeling. As I gave my desires and plans to God, everything just fell in all the right places. I ended up with more than enough funds to go there and even had more leftover to give to the missions fund at my school.

You want to know what the sad thing is, though? Even after all the things God works in my life (as well as my friends' lives) I tend to forget all that He has done for me. I lay down in bed thinking about the day's events. I go over the bad parts over and over again: when she ignored me in the Cafe, when he hurt me behind my back thinking I would never find out, when I made a mistake at work...all of it comes flooding back to the surface after a long day of just trying to "make it through." But, the reality is that she ignored me, because I didn't speak loud enough for her to hear, he hurt me because he didn't fully understand me and didn't want to, and I made a mistake, because I am human too.

(Photo: Pond in Cloverdale Cemetery; Boise, Idaho)

I sometimes forget that I am human. That might sound like a silly statement. Of course I'm human, right? I'm human, you're human: what's there to forget? But I forget what being a human means. It means that I make mistakes, I mess up, I stumble, and sometimes I fall. I get down sometimes, thinking that I can't get out of the feelings that hover around me and I falter. I try, and sometimes, I don't succeed. And it also means that everyone else does the same things. That doesn't mean that I am (or that you are) a failure, or different, or stupid. It just means that I am human; you are human. And that's what I sometimes forget. I lose sight of how God sees me, and hold myself up to the "Perfect" meter instead. Of course, I fall so so SOOOO much short of that ideal. In fact, I might even be in the negatives at times and there is no possible way for me to measure up to what society tells me I must.

In Galatians 6:4, it states, "Each one should test his own actions. Then he can take pride in himself, without comparing himself to somebody else" (NIV). Again, Philippians tells us that we should, "press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called [us] heavenward in Christ Jesus" (3:14; NIV). The Bible encourages us to move forward and to not compare ourselves to the standards of those on earth, but instead, to keep our eyes focused on Jesus and on what He wants for us.

I also sometimes wonder what the world would be like without hope. I love looking forward to different dates on the calendar and sometimes, those are what get me through each day. By looking forward to the future, I am more able to concentrate on what is in front of me presently, because I know something good is about to come, something fun, something amazing, and I want that day to come. As a result, my work becomes more urgent, more willing, more intense, because I have hope for what's to come and I desperately want it to come. The one thing I lack in this department is patience. I want it to come soon, and sometimes the days pass by so slowly that I can't hardly stand it! Romans 8 speaks on this topic: "...But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently" (24-25; NIV). I think that when we really want something, we work harder to get it. What would happen if everyone had something to look forward to? I want Jesus to come back. Soon. What would happen if everyone else did too? Would the work get done faster? Would it become more urgent? Would people be more willing to work if they knew what lies ahead? I wish it were so...

(Photo: My niece, Morgan; Cloverdale Cemetery in Boise, Idaho)

Even so, come Lord Jesus. I don't want to be in this world anymore without You.

Thinking Ahead

Yesterday was absolutely amazing! I went to sleep at 10:30 the night before and woke up to the sun streaming through my window. I was kind of dazed and confused and because the sun was so bright, I thought it must have been around 11 in the morning. I fell back asleep. When I woke up about an hour later, I looked at my clock and it read 8:26 am. Wow. What in the world? I couldn't go back to sleep, so I decided to get up and actually be productive, but I also decided I would not be on a schedule.
(Photo: Near Milton-Freewater, Oregon)

After getting ready for the day, I went through some of my papers I had shoved onto my bookshelf (yes, I've been a bit more messy since arriving at college) and threw away about half of them, keeping the others to study from for the finals coming up in the next few days. After straightening a few more things, putting some books in a box and getting everything in order, I called a friend of mine who I had not spoken to a lot in the past few months. I always enjoy talking to her, and yesterday was no different. She and I had a good chat, talking about school, driving, what we were going to do on Friday when I go home, and other random things. When we hung up, I was thoroughly enjoying my Sabbath afternoon and very happy.

A little bit later, I got on my computer and chatted with another friend who I had not spoken with that much for about the past 6 months. I guess it was just a day to catch up with those I had been neglecting since moving to College Place.

I have been thinking a lot about KCMA (Kettering College of Medical Arts) lately and wondering if I made the right choice. It all keeps on coming down to this: God can use me wherever I am, whether that be Ohio or Washington or even Europe. I am here for a reason and even though I worry a lot and am scared I might not be doing the right thing sometimes, I know God loves me and only wants to see me succeed. I just need to trust in Him and everything will come together (see Romans 8:28 for reference).

At times, I don't think I will make a good teacher, for that is what I desire to become. Mrs. Mitchell has influenced me so much through my grade school years (she taught me English, Bible, and Art at Boise Valley Adventist School 6th-8th grade), and well into my high school years (I took English from her my junior and senior years). I always count it a blessing to have had her as my teacher for five years and I will always be grateful for what she and I shared when I worked for her the last two years of my high school career. She will continue to be my inspiration for why I am becoming a teacher. :)

I am really looking forward to next year, as well as the year after, when I will be in Europe, working as a Student Missionary in Kolobrzeg, Poland (if I get my application in soon enough). I can't hardly wait for the day to come when I take the long flight over to Eastern Europe. I'm feeling afraid, but my excitement is overruling that feeling at the moment. That might change as the time for me to leave comes closer, but right now, I am content. (Photo Credit: Becky St.Clair; At Becky and Jason's House, Milton-Freewater, Oregon)

These next few days are going to be busy. I have three more finals to complete, and two others to turn in (they were take-home exams, thankfully!). This summer, I will be going home for all of about 8 days total and the rest of the time will be spent on the Walla Walla University campus working in the enrollment office (for Dallas Weis) as well as for the theology department (for Susan Bungard). I have mixed feelings about staying up here for the entire summer, but I know it is what is best for me right now and I will not be taking classes this summer, so I will be able to relax when I get off work at the end of the day.

I'm actually looking into taking piano lessons starting this summer. I've always wanted to learn, but never really had the patience for it and I would like to try it again. When I was about 6, a family friend (Connie McHutchison) tried to teach me piano, but I got so angry that I couldn't get it the first time, that I quit. Recently, I have been regretting my decision to stop taking lessons and really desire to learn how to play the piano.

I am also looking forward to my birthday this summer. Becky and Jason have invited me to go to Caledonia Games in Athena, Oregon. It will be happening on my birthday (July 13), and I am really excited about it! (I think there will be sheep dog races, but don't ask me what other things will be happening - I can't remember.) :)

Please keep me in your prayers. There are some things I've been struggling with recently and I could really use the support right now...Thanks! :)

Random Photo Moments

So, I decided to post a blog using only pictures...but it needed an introduction. This is why you are now reading words. :) These are just random photos from the past month (is it a sign that I'm tired if I almost spelled photos with an e? a.k.a. "photoes"...haha!) Hope you enjoy and please feel free to comment!

McMinnville, Oregon

Rest Area near Salem, Oregon

Jason, Becky, and I - tired of being in the car - Salem, Oregon

Multnomah Falls, Oregon

Tara and Ben's Wedding - May 11, 2008 - near McMinnville, Oregon

Baker City Interpretive Center, Oregon

Calf. :) Somewhere in Idaho.

Writer of the World

(Photo: Catherine Creek State Park, Tollgate Road, Oregon)

I am a writer. I gather words, string them together, and make a palate from which notes trill onto paper to form the music of my mind. I am an artist. I paint murals that show themselves on the tablet of my heart. Where do the colors originate? -they create themselves by the words I choose. -scarlet as rose, goldenrod as sun, cerulean as sea, verde as new leaf on an oak tree, violet as rainbow's ending trail mark it paints across the northern sky, silver as dewdrop in morning light. Peace floods every corner of my soul when my pen hits paper. A flash of brightness streams across my heart, and I am strangely whole again - my words and I.

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I'd like to write. To create a compilation of what my heart yearns to speak of - what it forms without words; the hand does not guide the pen, though it wishes to . . . It is the heart that moves the pen across the page . . . Across the vastness of white, straining to not miss a word, a note, a measure, a movement. I sit and wait for the words to come, for them to make music in my heart and then eventually, find their way unto the paper. At times I am at peace, but at other more sporadic moments, my heart beats wildly, pulsing out life-filled words. I am no longer my own . . . yet, I am me. I am me and I am things I only wish to be.

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I'll paint a picture in my mind, transfer it to my heart, and away to the page it goes . . .

(Photo: Near McMinnville, Oregon)

Struggling to Cope

I spent last night in the University Church. For two hours, WWU students and faculty (along with Shari's sister, Sarah, and their mother, Marsha) joined together in one band to say goodbye to a friend, sister, daughter, Shari Renae Booth. The memorial service was incredible. I got to know Shari more than I had before and the fact of it is, that's what made it so much harder to let go. Friends and family told stories of Shari - some funny and others were the result of the only way people knew how to tell of a connection they shared with a very talented young lady. Many tears were shed that evening, and I'm sure that most did not go away from that sacred place with dry eyes.

Born December 20, 1988, Shari Booth's life ended 19 years later on May 19, 2008. She wanted to become an Equine Veterinarian and was studying Biology here at WWU as the first step towards accomplishing her dream.

(Photo Credit: Unknown)

......

The only interaction I had with Shari was when I spent the weekend at Rosario Beach Marine Laboratory with the Biology and Math Clubs. I rode up with her, Lindsay (her roommate and long-time best friend), Tristan (another friend), and Laura (my roommate).

On our way out of town, we stopped at the flashing red light on the north end of College Avenue. All of a sudden, Shari says, "Stop the car!" Lindsay, who was in the driver's seat, replies with, "I am stopped." Shari then commences to yell, "We have to sign that petition!" Now, you have to understand that none of us knew what in the world she was talking about. But, she goes on, amidst our confused stares and questioning voices. "There's a petition that someone put up so they don't have to move the animals!" (Yeah, we were still confused too.) Finally, she begins to speak our language.

"The neighbors keep complaining that the animals are too loud and that they should be moved farther out into the countryside so they don't bother anyone anymore. But, instead, the owner put up a petition to ask for support so that he doesn't have to move his animals. The petition ends on Sunday and if we don't sign it now, it will be gone!"

This all happened in a manner of about minutes and by this time, we are on our way, even though Shari protests every foot that takes us even farther away from helping the owner of the "noisy animals". We try to calm her down, but it takes her a while to stop thinking about the injustice of it all. We tell her we will sign the petition on the way back into town (on Sunday afternoon). This appeases her and we change the subject. (Note: We forgot to sign the petition when we returned on Sunday.) :(

(Photo: Rosario Marine Beach Laboratory, Rosario, Washington)

......

Another adventure with Shari happened on our return trip from Rosario. We were driving on some country roads and along with fields of grain, we saw fields of cows. It had been really quiet in the car because we were so tired of being on the road and just wanted to be home. All of a sudden, Shari bursts out, "Wow! That bull has large testicles!" All of us start laughing hysterically and I start to wonder if the lack of sleep has caught up to her or if she's always like this. And then I realize that because we are all unable to stop laughing, that the sleepless nights have probably caught up to us as well. But, we all agree that she will make a wonderful veterinarian.
......

I've had a hard time trying to sort out the story of what happened last Monday. But, the hardest thing that I have had to deal with is thinking of the spontaneous Shari who sat in the passenger seat of Lindsay's car and realizing that she isn't here anymore and will never ride in that passenger seat again. She was nineteen years old; too young for this tragedy to happen to her.
......

I cannot explain how I feel more distinctly than this: Life is short and no matter what happens, remember to love all you can, spend time with those who want or need your company, and live like every day is your last. One day, it will be.

At the end of the memorial service last night, we all shared and spread Shari's light. There was a candle in the middle of a table at the front and beside it on both sides were two bowls full of tea light candles. As each person made their way up to the table, they took a tea light and lit it from the large candle in the middle, signifying the continuation of Shari's life.

May the light go on until Jesus comes again. Come quickly, Jesus.