This week, I had the privilege of taking a true 'week off' in Buena Vista, Colorado to go to a retreat with my ministry from K-State. Although I think I could sleep for the next ten weeks and not be rested from that, and my duffel bag smells like a combination of sweat and farm animals, the reflection that has come from the last week has made me feel very, very blessed to find the family that I did.
We started our week with three of our four cars leaving Manhattan mid afternoon on Friday.. and making less than an hour before Emma blew a tire. We stopped in Salina for a new one, and thankfully, were back on the road after relatively short wait at the tire center at Wal-Mart. I sincerely could not have been more thankful for Isaac, Ben, and Ryan's knowledge and ability to get us back on the road quickly. Soon, we were back on the road, stopping for dinner in Hays, and arriving at our hotel in Denver around 11 to unpack and send the boys to their dwelling for the weekend at Jeremy's sister's apartment.
Five o'clock came incredibly early the next morning as we met at the apartment where the boys were staying to eat breakfast and pack the cars to go to Loveland to ski. Breakfast sandwiches flew across the room as they came out of the microwave, hitting someone in the head occasionally to wake them up. Orange Juice was passed around, and we soon packed the car and headed for Loveland - only stopping once when the cooler in Jared's truck tipped over and gave a miniature Niagara Falls affect out of the bed. I had never been skiing before and could feel myself getting more nervous as the traffic got heavier and more and more cars had skis or boards on top of them.
As I got my boots and skis on, and sort of waddled and slid towards the lift on the bunny slopes. Snow, coats, and bundling up are not my forte and I felt beyond out of place. To put it lightly, skiing was not my thing, and I didn't do much of it that afternoon. My friends were more than patient with me during that morning as I learned how to move, and mostly learned by falling. They helped me up each time and never mentioned (at least in front of me) that I was clearly the rookie of the team - but made sure that I was never somewhere where I shouldn't be by myself. That night we went back to the hotel, all got through the shower, and drove to the apartment where the boys were staying and had already put lasagna in the oven ready for dinner. We all crammed into the living room, decorated with Christmas lights and not made for more than five people, trying to find a position comfortable to sit in after a day of skiing. The room soon filled with the smell of warm food from the kitchen (I felt like my body was never going to fully warm up) and one of the guys stopped pray and two pans of lasagna, a salad, a a bowl of corn were gone in a matter of minutes.
When we arrived at Frontier Ranch in the late afternoon on Sunday night, I was flooded with memories from my first time there. As Kaley and I unpacked and waited for the rest of our group, I thought about all the things I learned last year - I have over ten pages of notes in my journal, but I learned a lot about community too, and how lucky I was to find Christian Challenge.
When I came to K-State, I first started at a different ministry ... that I'm really not sure I would call a ministry, if I had to define it now. I definitely was not accepted for who I was and who I wanted to be, and they questioned my life and priorities - the few things in my life that I felt like made sense at that time. Looking back, I feel like I got out just in time, but then still felt like I was one person roaming around a campus of 25,000. I was working through the loss of one friend to murder and a family friend to sickness, and I consistently wondered, who would take me and all this baggage? In January, a friend invited me to Christian Challenge, and the first time I went I knew I found my answer.
Between January of my freshman year and March of my sophomore year, I found friends in Challenge and even got up the nerve to join a bible study. Somehow, I found that I had the desire to go to Colorado for their annual retreat over spring break, something way out of my comfort zone, and I ended up going only knowing my life group leader and was blessed to get to know Hannah, another girl in my life group, as she became one of my best friends over the next few months. After Summit, I applied to lead a life group (looking back I'm really not sure what my thought process other than that it was God directing my feet each day to find the application, fill it out, and turn it in - I certainly lacked the desire and confidence) - and now, I find myself completely at home with Christian Challenge.
While at Summit and with my Challenge family, I find few places on this earth where I'm more comfortable. At Summit one of my favorite things is watching people dance into the dining hall and having to scream to introduce myself at whoever happens to be sitting at my table, which is okay, because they're family anyway. I love that no matter what outfit you're wearing, regardless of how hideous it is by society's standards, if it involves chacos or flannel, it's okay. I love worshipping with 300 of my closest friends, and then turning around and playing the most violent and bruise worthy game of volleyball I've ever played in my life. I love the way that this family is so eager to help, encourage, and love one another in any way possible.
I really can't thank my Challenge family enough for their love over the past two years - I already know that when I graduate in a year, Challenge will be what I miss the most. I've loved getting to know people on such a true and deep level. This year when I started leading a bible study and I was put onto a ministry team (a group of other leaders who meet with a staff member once a week to have an opportunity to connect, share, and work together to discuss how leading is going.) I felt incredibly undeserved of the company I found myself in. By mid-year, we were in the midst of sharing our 'stories' with each other and I found myself telling my 'story' of the first time about losing a friend to murder, a close family friend five months later, and moving to college and trying to pick up the pieces of my life. My friends sat patiently around the room, some with tears in their eyes, as they waited for me to finish - and then they began to ask questions that I realized I had been needing to answer for months.
This year as I went back to Summit, completely comfortable with being away from home, I loved being surrounded by 'my people'. The people who fully consider bananagrams and Nertz olympic games, who wear Chacos in the snow, who 'dance' for things to get them back from the lost and found. - The people who I know will love me and accept me for whatever life brings - but challenge me to continue to be better every day, and who would no less than expect me to do the same for them.
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Joy in Waiting
Those of you who know me know how much I struggle with winter. Every year, too, it seems like we get a tease in January - several days that almost hit 70 degrees, and every year, I get my hopes up. It usually doesn't even start snowing until after Christmas, and it is around this time every year that I have to say "God, you are testing my patience. I cannot handle one more snowflake, one more patch of ice, one more day of carrying kleenexes to class because this weather makes my nose run. I. Am. Sick. Of. Waiting."
This winter, or at least the first few months of 2015, have been a rather difficult one for my family. We lost my uncle just a few days into January and took an unplanned trip halfway across the country to see our family. It seemed like we had only just gotten home and semi-adjusted to the real world again when we lost our treasured family pet of 16 years, meaning there was no more warm laps in the evening, hearing the subtle sharpening of claws at 5 a.m. when he was ready to go outside in the morning, or him following my sister and I aimlessly around the house begging for our attention. Finally, last week, a dear friend of my mom's went home after battling cancer for over a decade. I came home on Thursday night for the funeral on Friday, trying to squeeze in homework when I could, but also wanting nothing more than to just be with my own family.
Friday morning we sat down in the church, the only noises to be heard were the shuffling of coats and scarves being removed and the occasional, louder, blowing of a nose. Although I know there's not much you can do about it, I've always hated that part about funerals. A few minutes after we got there, a man walked up to the people sitting in front of us. He got a big smile on his face as he said "Hey! Mind if I join you here?" The man and his wife willingly scooted their coats and belongings over to make room - and I thought 'this guy has it right - shouldn't we all have such a joyful attitude for our sister in Christ?'
My friend Natalie said it the best when she described how difficult it is to be in your twenties. I really only just got here, but for the first time, my decisions and responsibilities hold actual weight. I enroll for my senior year of college this week, and as post-graduation plans creep up on me, I can't help but think about how for the first time in my life, my those ideas, goals, and dreams and are truly on ME to be carried out. If I don't get into graduate school, it is on me to find a plan B and no one else. But so much of my life right now also feels like it's out of my control. After this winter, I often wonder, do I have control over anything?
Our message at church over the last three weeks has been about service - what we are called to do, do often and do well. I often find myself slipping into the mindset of "once I graduate from K-State..." or "Once I have a job..." but I know that's exactly the opposite of what God wants - He wants me serving in my waiting - whether I feel 'in control' or not. He wants me to be like the man I heard at the funeral - alongside my brothers and sisters in Christ in the good, the bad, and the waiting. Although I often think of it as waiting for that 'next thing', He wants me serving while I wait for that eternal "something better."
One piece from our message in church this morning that stuck with me was that "we are called to serve competently" - the idea that yes, we are called to serve, but we are called to do it well using the gifts we already have. That can both be scary and comforting - scary because I know that God knows what I do well, and there's no hiding from Him - but comforting knowing that things I'm good at are usually things I enjoy, and, quite frankly, I would rather serve doing something I'm good at than doing something in an area in which I have no skillset whatsoever.
On Friday when I made my visit to my daycare kids and I heard the voice from the bathroom "Emmy, will you please come wipe me?" followed by the requests for help because she couldn't reach the soap, or the faucet, and we were out of paper towels. I hadn't felt that competent in months. Although recently I have doubted (more than once) my abilities to comfort those around me who grieve, and my post-graduation plans are sneaking up on me with an entirely new set of fears, I am content with knowing that for the time being, if God wants me to do nothing more than help my three year olds reach the sink, I would be more than happy to do so.
This winter, or at least the first few months of 2015, have been a rather difficult one for my family. We lost my uncle just a few days into January and took an unplanned trip halfway across the country to see our family. It seemed like we had only just gotten home and semi-adjusted to the real world again when we lost our treasured family pet of 16 years, meaning there was no more warm laps in the evening, hearing the subtle sharpening of claws at 5 a.m. when he was ready to go outside in the morning, or him following my sister and I aimlessly around the house begging for our attention. Finally, last week, a dear friend of my mom's went home after battling cancer for over a decade. I came home on Thursday night for the funeral on Friday, trying to squeeze in homework when I could, but also wanting nothing more than to just be with my own family.
Friday morning we sat down in the church, the only noises to be heard were the shuffling of coats and scarves being removed and the occasional, louder, blowing of a nose. Although I know there's not much you can do about it, I've always hated that part about funerals. A few minutes after we got there, a man walked up to the people sitting in front of us. He got a big smile on his face as he said "Hey! Mind if I join you here?" The man and his wife willingly scooted their coats and belongings over to make room - and I thought 'this guy has it right - shouldn't we all have such a joyful attitude for our sister in Christ?'
My friend Natalie said it the best when she described how difficult it is to be in your twenties. I really only just got here, but for the first time, my decisions and responsibilities hold actual weight. I enroll for my senior year of college this week, and as post-graduation plans creep up on me, I can't help but think about how for the first time in my life, my those ideas, goals, and dreams and are truly on ME to be carried out. If I don't get into graduate school, it is on me to find a plan B and no one else. But so much of my life right now also feels like it's out of my control. After this winter, I often wonder, do I have control over anything?
Our message at church over the last three weeks has been about service - what we are called to do, do often and do well. I often find myself slipping into the mindset of "once I graduate from K-State..." or "Once I have a job..." but I know that's exactly the opposite of what God wants - He wants me serving in my waiting - whether I feel 'in control' or not. He wants me to be like the man I heard at the funeral - alongside my brothers and sisters in Christ in the good, the bad, and the waiting. Although I often think of it as waiting for that 'next thing', He wants me serving while I wait for that eternal "something better."
One piece from our message in church this morning that stuck with me was that "we are called to serve competently" - the idea that yes, we are called to serve, but we are called to do it well using the gifts we already have. That can both be scary and comforting - scary because I know that God knows what I do well, and there's no hiding from Him - but comforting knowing that things I'm good at are usually things I enjoy, and, quite frankly, I would rather serve doing something I'm good at than doing something in an area in which I have no skillset whatsoever.
On Friday when I made my visit to my daycare kids and I heard the voice from the bathroom "Emmy, will you please come wipe me?" followed by the requests for help because she couldn't reach the soap, or the faucet, and we were out of paper towels. I hadn't felt that competent in months. Although recently I have doubted (more than once) my abilities to comfort those around me who grieve, and my post-graduation plans are sneaking up on me with an entirely new set of fears, I am content with knowing that for the time being, if God wants me to do nothing more than help my three year olds reach the sink, I would be more than happy to do so.
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