There and Back Again.

January 5th marked a strange day in my life.  It was the beginning of the winter quarter at Sullivan and I wasn't in Kentucky.  One year ago, I was sitting in an airport, waiting for my delayed flight, headed back to Kentucky after Christmas break.  This year I was watching my friends and family go back to school and work as I stayed in my pajamas till noon.  That's when it really hit me.  I was done with Kentucky.

Despite my grumblings (and yes, there were a lot of them), Kentucky had become my home.  My pictures hung on the walls there, people who make me smile and laugh are there, and there were three happy animals ready to greet me every day.  I worked there, I lived there, it was my home for over a year.

Then my pictures were in boxes, I had said farewell to my friends and had one last hoorah, the animals had successfully hidden in my luggage, I quit my job, I packed my stuff, and I didn't call it home anymore.

Now it is strange, living somewhere I haven't called home in over a year.  I'm not the same person, which is horribly cliched to say, but accurate. In someways I'm better, and in some ways, worse.  I needed to come back to Michigan to heal myself, but I needed Kentucky to break me.

I needed the wake up call that Kentucky gave me, both the good and bad ones.  The realization that I really can do anything for eleven weeks, I really can do this career, I am really not as good as I thought I was, and I really need a lot more help than I let on.

The people I met in Kentucky have changed me forever, whether it me the boys who harassed me for months, or the instructor that literally held me as I cried out for help.  I wouldn't be who I am right now without them.

My time in school not only taught me how to sous-vide a duck breast, but also how to handle life and its curve balls... and there were plenty.  A long distance relationship was started six months early, a suburban girl was thrown into a big city, a fear of abandonment was kicked into overdrive, and I survived my hardest year yet.

There have been days when I regret what happened in Kentucky, who I was there, things that I said, or decisions made under the circumstances.  There are days I wish I had never left Michigan.  But today, as I write this on the brink of starting a new job and more life changes, I miss Kentucky.  The normality that I had become accustomed to is now gone.  I have to find a new normal, and I'm not good with transitions.

Today, I want to be back in my musty apartment, making dinner for myself and getting my uniform ready for tomorrow. Instead I am sitting in my room, with my friend, Erika, sitting on my bed playing music, waiting for my mom to finish my dinner, and dreading driving to my first day of work tomorrow.

In two months, I won't remember what I am feeling at this very moment.  I'll have found my new normal and will be content with it and happier than I ever was in Kentucky.  But that is not today. Today is strange because I was there and now I am back again.

Promises.

This is the time of year for promises.  Promises to eat right, work out more, be more organized, or to enjoy life more.  Most promises made will be broken within the next month or so.

I, personally, don't make resolutions at New Years.  I am notorious for breaking promises to myself and change is not my strong suit.  Promises, in general, seem unreliable to me.

There are many broken promises in my life and though I don't have trust issues, I do have a pessimistic view on promises.  That way, when one is kept, I am surprised and pleased, and if one is broken, I don't get upset.

Trust in other's promises is something that I have struggled hard with in the last three months. Believing that I was wanted back home, that I was loved by someone who felt so distant, that people were going to help me, that people would pull through. All that was difficult and emotional for me. I spent nights crying out to God, trying to make him hear how much I was hurting, how much I wanted these promises to be true.  Trying to make Him, and myself, understand exactly how much I needed those promises to be kept, but at the same time, bracing myself for them to be broken.

I forgot God made promises to me too.  That he promises to always want me, to love me, to provide, and to never leave me.  Hopelessness overwhelmed me last night.  I couldn't do it on my own, and those who I ran to for comfort didn't do what I wanted them to.

I wanted them to fix it.  To give me what I needed right then and there.  Or I wanted them to hold me, comfort me, just tell me it was going to be okay.  Some weren't around to hold me, and words on a phone screen do not hold the same level of comfort that arms do. Those who were close, didn't give me the comfort I wanted.  Their words weren't peace giving, and I didn't know what to do.

So I picked up the only words I knew of that might help.  My bible.  I sat it in my lap and let it open where ever it wanted. Job 37 is where it fell too.  In those words God showed me his power.  That he is the one who tells the thunder when to rumble and the lightning where to strike.  That he alone is the one who controls this.

If he is powerful enough to control the storm and where it falls and when.  Then he is also powerful enough to control the storm in my life.  He knows that rain is falling, and that I will need shelter, and he let me fumble around in the dark trying to protect myself.  He heard my cries and waited there, my ever constant shelter, for me to find him.   He saw me run to others, those who could not do for me what he could, and he saw me give up.  Sitting in the rain accepting my fate to be struck by lightning.  Then he called, very gently, very softly, to me.  Asking me to come back to him.

Last night I found him, my shelter from my storm.  One that has been raging for months.  And I woke this morning to find the storm had passed.



Over the last three months, I have been searching for an internship in Michigan in order to complete my degree.  I have been met with a lot of dead ends and unanswered phone calls. I was a week away from my dead line and I still didn't have anything. Last night I broke down, from the weight of not knowing.  I felt unwanted and even considered the fact that I had made a mistake coming back home.  After reading God's Word and feeling peace about how powerful he is, and that he did promise me that he will provide, I was calm enough to finally get some sleep.  I didn't know what I was going to do, but I trusted Him enough to know that I would know what to do when the time came.

This morning, I was woken by my phone ringing.

I now have an internship and I start next week.  EVERYTHING was taken care of and I no longer have any fear.  God only wanted me to come to him, and when I did, he showed me what he can do.  He calmed my storm, and for those of you who feel as if you are also stuck in a storm, he can calm yours as well.  Just run to him.

Job 37:5
"God's voice thunders in marvelous ways;
he does great things beyond our understanding." 

Holidays and Life Changes.

Tis the season to be... beyond busy, stressed out, and gaining weight! Some people call that jolly. The holidays bring back a lot of memories for me, as I'm sure they do for everyone else.  This year, memories involve so much more than Christmas's past.

As of the seventeenth of December, I am no longer a resident of Louisville, Kentucky.  Academically, I have finished college. No more scantrons, no more product IDs, and no more Kentucky.  I'll be brutally honest when I say, "Thank God."  I have been dying to move home since I moved away last fall.  Then again, now that I am gone, it seems a little sad, a little lonely in a way.  I miss my old room, my kittens, my routine, and my freedom.  Instead of that, I gained my dog, my family, my safe home, my best friends, and someone a little more special.

After six months of bad cell reception, grainy Skype quality, poorly timed text messages, and overall not niceties, I got this man back.  It's not been an easy six months, between his overwhelming work load in the Marines, my stress over school and internship, and a three hour time difference, things with us have seemed to fall the wayside.  We spent his birthday, our one year anniversary, and Thanksgiving over two thousand miles apart.

All sadness aside, I now have him back for the remainder of the holiday season and then will regretfully have to hand him back over.  Until then, look at some happy pictures from this break and my happy friends and family.

I was able to go Christmas tree hunting with AJ and his family.  Erika brought along her boyfriend, Keegan, and they are the dictionary definition of a handsome couple.  So obviously there were photos snapped.

This family means so much to me. They have become my Holland family, and my two best friends belong to it.  The Wells have made me feel so welcome, they have given me support, wise words, coffee in the morning, and reason to smile!

To say that I am just excited to be back with this girl, is the understatement of the century.  I am a happy girl, back in my home state, ready to see what God has to throw at me, and I know there will be a lot.

Stay tuned and have a great New Years!


Any photos you see of me here are from my beautiful friend Erika! See past post and her blog here!

Doubt.

I am about two quarters away from graduating from college and I am haunted by the question; "What are your plans after college?"  

I am a planner.  I always have been to some extent.  (Don't get me wrong, I love surprises and spontaneity, but only when the surprises are a unplanned weekend visits or trying a new place for dinner). I have always had a plan for my life. Sometimes I change my mind, otherwise I would have a glowing career as a ballerina right now, and that's okay, because sometimes I just have unrealistic plans for my own life.  

As a freshman in high school, I began to plan out my life after high school.  My older brother was graduating and everyone was asking him, "So what's next?" and he could never give them a good answer.  They wanted to know where he was going to college, when he was going to get married, and what kind of job he would have.  I was determined to have a plan, to have answers to all of those questions by the time my senior year rolled around. 

• Attend GRCC for a Baking and Pastry major.
• Live at home throughout college, move out after graduation.
• Meet and marry a guy from college.
• Start my own restaurant with my dad.
• Settle down; with 2.5 kids, white picket fence, and live happily ever after.

That plan got thrown to the dogs when I turned seventeen.  After I finished my junior year of high school, I changed my major, I was definitely a culinary girl. I also changed my school... To one hundreds of miles away...  Grand Rapids Community College wasn't for me. One short year later, I was living in a dorm room in a state I was actually quite terrified of, dating a boy from back home who was on his way to become a U.S. Marine. I no longer wanted to own my own restaurant, and starting a family seemed like a completely hopeless idea.  With graduation so close, and with the definite plan on moving back to Michigan in December, I'm full of doubt about where my life is right now. 

Don't get me wrong, there are some really great things in my life right now. I am dating a wonderful man, my family has been more than supportive about my schooling, and I have had some great memories here, but I sometimes feel so lost.

I haven't been able to plan for anything in almost a year.  There has been something changing at least every eleven weeks, if not more frequently.  Routine has become a coveted thing. And it was become habit to just reevaluate my life every three months or so.  Do you want to know what I have discovered?  I don't know what I am doing anymore!  I am doubting every decision I have made and everything I thought I wanted. 

What are you doing here?  

What are you doing with your life?  

You are just wasting your time.  

You'll never amount to any kind of chef!  

Do you really think you'll make a good mom? 

Do you really think you will ever be successful in any way? 

These things run through my mind on a daily basis.  It takes a lot to push them away, and sometimes I can't anymore.  Sometimes I break down. I let myself believe that I am worthless, with no purpose in life, with nothing but disappointment and broken plans to look forward to.  But that's not true.

Don’t dig up in doubt what you planted in faith. - Elizabeth Elliot 

God has put me here for a reason.  Granted, I do not know what that reason is still, I just have to remind myself that there is one.  One day I'll know or maybe I never will.  Either way, I have to have the faith to say there is a plan... It's just not mine, and I have to learn not to doubt the One I have chosen to put my faith into.  Because putting my faith into myself was not a good idea.  I'm gonna let Him make the plans, and probably still spend a few nights crying, but I will try not to give up on his plans for me. 

Endings.

I don't like endings.  Of any kind.  I'll put down a book I really like for months because I don't want to read the final chapters, and see it finally come to an end.  I'll leave it sitting on my shelf, full of possibilities, full of unread words that could potentially change my life.  I like it better that way, leaving it some-what unknown, just so that I won't be disappointed.  Because those are the worst kind of endings.  The disappointing ones.

Ending, much like goodbyes, are a necessary part of living.  You can't go on with your life with dozens of unfinished books on your shelves.  Things have to come to an end, and you will both be delighted and disappointed with the endings.

I have seen many endings, in my admittedly short life.  The end of friendships, jobs, relationships, families, childhoods, seasons of life, and life itself. Some I have just seen, and some I have personally felt. These endings have caused me to grow in ways I could never have imagined. Forcing me to wake up and realize that life is real, and it is brutally beautiful.  I didn't want any of these endings. If it were up to me, I would have put these things back on the shelf with a chapter or two to go, so that they never had to end. So that I could hold on to them forever and keep them just the way I want. Stopping them when they are perfect. 

But who would I be if those chapters never ended? Who would you be?

Would you still be sitting behind that desk at the job that you hate, instead of owning your own business? Would you still be dating your high school sweetheart, instead of your now spouse? Would you still be living with your parents, instead of leaving for college or moving out?

These are all endings that we want to happen! Very few of us are sitting here reading those going... Man, I wish that wouldn't have ended. No, instead we are happy that those times in our lives are over, though it may be bittersweet looking back on how easy it was to work that 9-5 desk job, or how nice it was to have a live-in cook and maid (love you mom). In this sense, endings are good, and we welcome them. Then there are the endings that cause us to question what our lives mean and why these things happen. 

The messy end of a relationship, dating or marital, that one thought would last forever. The abrupt end to a once blossoming career. The end of a childhood over just a few weeks, forcing someone, who was not yet ready, to become more mature than someone should ever have to be at that age.  The end of a life, whether is be sudden and wrenching, or a slow decline and decay of said life. 

These are the endings that cause us to ask the question; "why?" They cause us to question God's plan for us, or for some, even his excistance. We don't understand until given time and perspective. 

I don't know why there are bad endings, why some things, when they end, leave us feeling so hollow. While other endings give us tramendous hope for the future. In a perfect would, there would only be good endings. You wouldn't have to fear the last few pages of the book. You would know that everything would be okay.  But we don't live in said perfect world. 

Before he left for bootcamp, AJ said something that stuck with me;

"Your options are: 1. Accept your own helplessness. 2. There is no option 2." 

We cannot control how and when things end, but we can control how we deal with them.  We can sit in denial and demand things go back to the way they were, or we can strive forward, knowing that some way, some how, things will be okay if we put our trust in God. 

I Have Decided...

I have decided something. I have decided to stop hating myself.  I have decided that staring at myself in the mirror, and picking myself apart, wasn't worth it anymore.  

I'm not sure when I started hating my body. I know I was young, maybe seven or eight.  I was always bigger than the other girls, and most of the boys.   I was taller and thicker.   I remember being jealous of the small girls cause they could run faster than me and crawl through smaller spaces on the playground without getting stuck.  I was never a pudgy child.  Ever.  I have never been classified as overweight.  Honestly, throughout all my life, I have been a completely healthy body weight.  But I remember being able to give piggy back rides to my brothers, and never being able to get one because I was too heavy for them.  Both my brothers have the build that most girls would kill for, tall and slim.  And when I say tall... I mean tall.  My oldest brother is just about 6' 5" and only weighs about 180 something pounds... if that.  My younger brother is hot on his trail at about 6' 2" and he's not even eighteen yet.  Both are skinny, and athletic.  

I am 5' 9".  I weigh 153 pounds.  I am about four inches taller than the national average and about fifteen pounds lighter.  And yet, there is always the lingering thought it my mind, that if I could just lose about seven pounds, life would be better.  I would look better in clothes, I wouldn't be embarrassed to wear a two piece swimsuit this summer.  I wouldn't have to worry about whether or not I was too fat to be attractive.

My arms are too flabby. My legs are too big around.  My hips have too much fat around them.  My chin is too fat.  My cheeks are too round.  My nose is too wide.  My hands are too big and are scarred.  My calves are curved funny.  My knees are oddly shaped and scarred.  My chest is too small.  My butt is about the only thing on me that won't gain any weight.   My hair is perpetually frizzy and not red enough.  My shoulders are too broad. 

These are the things that I say to myself when I get out of the shower ever morning.  The things I think when I look at myself in a sports bra, when I'm heading to the gym, before I throw on a baggy shirt to cover up my "ugly" self.  

There is only a handful of people who know the things I hate about myself.  To the rest of the world, I love my size.  I am athletic, love food, and never feel self-conscious about the clothes that I wear.   I have never admitted these things in such a public forum.  

Last night, I got back from the gym and just stood in front of the mirror for about ten minutes.  I went over every part of me that I hated, and how I could make it better, or rather, how I was making it worse.  As I laid in bed, I thought of how my life would be better if I were smaller.  I glanced up a list of goals that I made at the beginning of the quarter, reminding me of the promises I made for when I come home in June.  I promised I would be skinny, that I would be a new person.  I fell asleep hating myself, because I am never going to reach those goals. 

Today I ran across a chapter in Cold Tangerines by Shauna Niequist, that said something that made me want to write this post.  She apologized to her body.  Apologized for all the hate she had cast towards it.  Thanking her body for making a good home for her growing baby, and for not giving up on her when she had given up on it.  I did that today...  I apologized for filling my mind with poisonous thoughts about the rest of my body.  I said sorry for thinking so poorly of it when it does so much for me everyday.  I apologized to God too.  He gave me this body.  A good body.  One that has carried me thought nineteen years without injury or defect.  One that will someday make a home for my own growing family.  

Today I chose not to hate anymore.  Not to feel bad about myself.  To take that impossible list of goals off my wall that has been haunting me for two months.  To not apologize to people about not being the perfect skinny girl I promised I would be when I came home in June. 

When I come home in June, I will be 153 pounds.  I will wear the same pant size I did when I left.  I will not be amazingly skinny, and have six pack abs.  I will have my curved hips (to prove that I am no longer a little girl), scarred hands and knees (to prove that I have done something with myself and wasn't perfect), I will freckles all over my round smiling cheeks and wide wrinkled nose (to prove that sun makes me happy).  

The war with myself isn't over, but I won the battle today. 

Cause this seems like one of those blog posts you add a selfie to.

Bible Study and Relationships.

Since I've been at school, I have joined a small group with a local church.  Just six or seven at us, sitting at Starbucks, drinking our respected frou-frou drinks, and discussing the Lord's word and our lives.  Last week we went over Colossians 3:18-4:1.  Basically going over the rules for Christian households, something that we discussed a little bit last fall in Ephesians 5:22-33.

When I read these verses back then, I had just started dating AJ.  My small group leader made some comments on these passages, having us take notes of who we should be looking for in our future husbands.  The opening lines of both of these passages are almost identical.  "Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord [as to the Lord]." Not the greatest opening line directed to a very stubborn teenage girl in a new relationship.  The first time we went over this topic, I didn't think too much of it.  "Don't date/marry someone you can't submit to" was the main point drilled into our heads.  The more I thought about it though, the more that word "submit" bothered me... After talking with my leader a little more carefully on this subject, I got a better answer.  "Don't date/marry someone you couldn't let make the big decisions." If you can't relinquish control of major decisions like where you live, this job or that job, or kids or no kids (or when) then you shouldn't marry this person.  Honestly, it makes a lot of sense for those of us who still believe that the husband should be head of the household and the family.  This doesn't mean he doesn't take the wife's opinion into consideration, it just means that he has the last word.  (Again, difficult for a stubborn girl to hear).

Now, before I have someone gets up in arms about how sexist that statement sounds, hear me out.  I do believe there is a time and a place for the woman to take charge.  If the safety, physically, mentally, financially, or spiritually, of herself or the rest of her family is in danger, then by all means, don't listen to him.  I know there are men in this world that abuse the position they have over women and they don't deserve the respect that submission gives them.  But here is where the rest of the passages kicks in; "Husbands, love your wives and do not be harsh with them."  So let me give you the phrase that should have been drilled in our heads, "Do not date/marry someone who isn't worthy of the respect you are giving him by submitting."  I know plenty of girls who would have no problem submitting to whomever was the cutest or had the best car.  Submission isn't hard for them.  But those men may not be worthy of respect.

See, that's where things are a little backwards for me.  I'm very capable of giving respect, I give it to whomever deserves it.  But I am not as capable of submission.  I respect those in authority to me, but I do not always obey them, I only obey if I agree with them.  Basically, I only submit if I can pass it off as my own idea.  It's so bad that I will even blow off my chef's instructions in lab because I think that my way is better or that his suggestion doesn't matter.  So far, I haven't been wrong, but maybe that's the issue.  Maybe I should be wrong more often.  Maybe that will teach me how to submit, because right now, it is the most difficult thing for me to comprehend.  Letting another human being have a huge input on some of the biggest decisions of my life.  Not my idea of easy. Giving respect to that human being, piece of cake.  A piece of cake that I dictate the specifics of.  If it's chocolate and he likes vanilla or, heaven forbid, he prefers pie, then out he goes.

Alright, I have just made a food analogy, I think it's about time I actually made a few points and wrapped this up.

Ladies; when looking for your future husband, look for someone worthy of respect and someone you trust enough to submit to in big decisions.  Someone who is;

• Understanding
• Patient 
• Forgiving
• Trustworthy 
• Respectful
• Has God's will for his, and your, life always in mind

There are more to add to that list, but the reason I have just those on there is because they do mean something.

• You want someone who understands that it isn't always easy to submit.  
• You want someone who gives you time to come to grips with submission.  
• You want someone who will forgive you when you snap at him because things aren't going your way. 
• You want someone you can trust not to hurt you with the decisions he is making.  
• You want someone who respects you just as much as you respect him.
• You want someone who has submission to God, and to his will. 

Gentlemen; when looking for your future wife, look for someone is willing to submit, but not blindly.  Someone who is;

• Strong
• Humble
• Patient 
• Understanding
• Respectful
• Forgiving
• Has God's will in mind

Yes, there are repeats, but bear with me.

• You want someone with enough will of her own to give her opinion and fight for what she thinks is the right thing.
• You want someone who is humble enough to realize that her opinion isn't always the best option. 
• You want someone who is patient with you when you don't know what the right option is.
• You want someone who understands that you are human and can make mistakes.
• You want someone who respects you enough to submit to you leadership.
• You want someone who, if the need arises, will give you another shot if you need one. 
• You want someone who will be ever mindful of what God wants for you both. 

So there is my little speech on at least one section of relationships.  To be honest, a section that I struggle with quite a lot.  Something that has been weighing on my heart and a subject that's worth a blog post.

The Road So Far.

Today marks the start of week nine.  Slowly but surely this quarter is wrapping up.  To be honest, it couldn't come soon enough.  This quarter has been such a struggle for me, and the hopelessness I felt when I wrote my last post, really never went away.

To answer some questions I have been getting since my last post, things in class have gotten better.  Over the first five weeks or so, I was being sexually harassed, everyday, in one of my classes.  Causing more problems than I would actually care to admit.  After finally confronting two teachers about it and getting  some repercussions because I "snitched", the harassment has died down to next to nothing.  A blessing, to say the least.  I am no longer fearful to walk into my classroom, or paranoid every time I passed one of my classmates in the hallway. I have had a few of my classmates admit that I now scare them, which to be honest, is a delightful turn of events.

In conjunction to that, over this quarter, I think I have bitten off a bit more than I can chew.  I am taking five classes, totally about seven hours of school a day.  Same amount that I took last quarter, but these classes are all at about the junior level.  I am the only second quarter in my English and Psych class.  It's a difficult schedule, both physically and mentally.  I am awake at six thirty every morning, in class by seven fifty, and only back to dorm at three thirty.  After I come home, I have about two hours of homework every night, along with a call to my mom, a few texts here and there from my boyfriend and other friends from back home, and dinner and socializing here at dorm. I was blessed with a really great roommate this quarter, which has helped make things a bit easier.  But it is still a schedule that is very demanding.  On any given day I am on the move from seven to seven everyday.  Sometimes later.  Even if I wanted to, I rarely can stay up past eleven at night.  Adding in the stress of the harassment, it's taken its tole on me.

After weeks of this, I have physically take a tole for the worse.  I'm not just tired, some days I can't even bring myself to walk down the hall to get food.  I have neglected my small group and church because I am either too tired on Wednesday nights to go, or I can't find time to between all my classes and homework.  I suffer from severe headaches, shakes, and am light headed most days.  I don't have many good days.

There are things that make it better, I have worked a short nap into my schedule, usually during the worst part of my headaches, so I just sleep through most of the pain.  Talks with my mom and short weekly skype dates with friends help cure the homesickness for just a bit, and then of course, there's the weekends.

Over the last month, I have been blessed with visits from people back home.  On Valentines day, Alan surprised me with a visit over the weekend, and then this past weekend, he and Erika came down for three days.  These weekends make life a little easier for just a short time.  The goodbyes are hard, but it's worth it.

Now, it's Monday, and another week stares me down.

Hey, By The Way, Thanks.

How often do you say "thank you?"

Do you say it to the person making your coffee, to the waitress serving you dinner, to the teacher who hands you back your test score?  How about to God?  How often do you thank Him?

Do you say it every night at dinner?
Maybe just every Thanksgiving?
When ever something really good happens to you?

 Be honest, how often do you really say "thank you?"

I'll be honest, I'm really good at saying "thank you" but I'm not good at meaning it.  I say it everyday to the girl who makes my breakfast, I say it every time someone hands me something in class, but I don't say it to God everyday. Even though he's the only reason I am here.  He's the only reason I recovered from my fevers this weekend.  He's the only reason I woke up this morning.  He's the only reason I am able to write this blog.  And yet I didn't say "thank you" when I woke up this morning.  I didn't say "thank you" when school got canceled due to snow, giving me one more day to study.  I should have.  I should never stop saying it, cause there is always something to be thankful for.

We had a guest speaker at church a few weeks ago who said something that sat heavy with me.

In response to the question; "What is God's will for me?" he said, "Say 'thank you.' Often"

That's it.  Just say "thanks." It's not hard. Or is it?

Would you say "thank you" for that really annoying coworker or classmate that you have?
Would you say "thank you" for school when you're stuck far away from your loved ones?
Would you say "thank you" for the relationships in your life that don't seem to be good for you, just them?

I didn't.  Those were things I prayed to get rid of.  But during devotions a week ago, I ran across Colossians 4:2.

"Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful."

So I did.
I prayed for my least favorite classmates, every time I saw them.
I prayed for God to help me through this quarter and thanked him for giving me this opportunity.
I prayed for those in my life that needed more attention than I did, and how I could help them.

So I was thankful.  Then I watched.

My least favorite classmates took on my load in lab so I wouldn't be late to my next class.  Without complaint.
When I was struggling with homesickness, a classmate walked up and gave me a hug, saying it was good to see me.
God showed me what an impact I had on a friend's life.  How much I helped better their days.

It was truly amazing.  So I challenge you to do that today.  Say "thanks," for something you normally wouldn't think about.  Say it and mean it.  Then step back and see what is changed by you saying that.

Time For A Change.

So as many of you can see, this blog has changed quite a bit.  New look for the (almost) new year.  I started this blog back in January and I have been playing with the style of it since then... and over the last two or three days, I haven't had much to do, so I went a little crazy.  Got a whole new look.  Personally I like it better, but then again I'm not the one who has to read it!  Let me know what you guys think!

In other news, I'm back at college.  You should see my face, I just can't stop smiling, I love it here.

Yeah, I'm a horrible lair.  

I've been back for a little over a week and will be going back home on Christmas break in four days.  Now that is a reason to smile.  Plans are being made for Christmas parties, caroling, and family get-together.  I'm very excited!

But this will be a difficult year in many ways.  

• This is the first Christmas without my Grandma Betty.  She's been such a fixture for so long it's going to be strange not to have her with us.  
• This is the first year without Riley, yet another fixture in our home, gone.  
• First Christmas with little Piper.  
• First year I have to actually GO somewhere for Christmas.  
• First year of not being home to pick out the Christmas tree and put up decorations in my room. 
• First Christmas I get to spend with my friends! 

A mixture of both good, bad, and hard.  Tears will be shed this year, both happy and sad.  But I am looking forward to it all.  Looking forward to seeing everyone again, to spending time with my family and friends.  It will be a good three weeks.  Now I just have to get through finals... Ugh.

Grandma Betty.