Dear Future Self in Ministry...

*The following is a letter to myself to look at every 5 or so years throughout my life in vocational ministry. Having been involved in different ministries, I have seen things firsthand and heard stories of people forgetting the reason why they entered into ministry in the first place. I also know my own sinful and human tendencies, so I decided to write this as a reminder to my future self to stay on track.* Dear Danielle, Take a few moments to sit back and look at where you've been the last five years and what you're doing now. I'm just here to remind you of a few things just in case you may have gotten a little bit off track… What is your ministry goal? What is the one thing that every little thing you do with your day is supposed to accomplish? The scary thing with ministry is that if you're not working towards a singular goal, then many things are done without purpose. And in ministry, there is no time to waste on things that don't have meaning behind them. So what's your mission? If you don't have one, create one now. Not tomorrow. Not when your next annual personal evaluation is due. Not when you decide your next year's budget. Now. If you do have one, look at it. If the main point of the statement is "Jesus", then congratulations - you get to skip this next section! If it's not, read on. Danielle, I don't care what ministry you're in - church planting, administration, women's, youth, children's, pastoral - I don't care. If your ministry goal has to do with anything apart from pointing people to Jesus, then your time has been entirely wasted. Magnifying the name of Jesus is the reason you're in ministry. It is NOT to make yourself look like the best Christian. It is NOT to have big numbers, whether in attendance or readership or whatever numbers look like in your position. It is NOT just to pay your bills. It is NOT because it's what everyone says you should be doing or that it's what you're most gifted at. It's Jesus, only Jesus.  If your top mission is Jesus (and I very much so hope it is), then I'm thankful you've stayed on the right course. Now comes the next question - does everything you do in your ministry reflect that goal? Do your teachings, your events, your day-to-day tasks line up with that goal, or do they serve smaller, less meaningful purposes like the ones mentioned above? Throwing a party can be a great ministry tactic - but if it's just because you don't have "enough" going on in your ministry or because you have some extra money in the budget, then it's not a ministry tactic anymore. It's a personal pleasure. Whether you're writing or planning or brainstorming, make sure it all points to your goal. (I would write a section at this point about making sure my vocational ministry doesn't push my family aside, but I'll write that one when I actually have a family of my own.) Finally, there's that whole "money" thing. There are many different approaches to the use of money in ministry, and you've seen it, Danielle. You've seen people do less-effective ministry because of lack of monetary resources, and oftentimes that cannot be helped. There are approaches a church can take to change that, but that's not what I'm here to talk about. You've also seen people do less-effective ministry because, although they may have the money in their budget to spend, they want to take the cheap way out (note: this is a much less common problem). However, the most common way you've seen people in ministry handle money is wastefully. Obviously, the future you is not still looking through the lenses of a broke college student, but the current you wants you to understand that being a broke college student puts a lot of things in perspective. I go to thrift stores. I don't buy what I can't afford. I come up with creative (and interesting) ways to pay for things like traveling, going to the movies, eating out, and decorating how I want. When I buy something, I try to use it as much, if not more, than it's worth. I'm not saying you have to be some ministry cheapskate, I'm just asking you to be wise. Your budget is a very, very precious thing, not because it is smaller than you'd like it to be, but because it's compromised of the offerings of others. Unlike most other jobs, your budget and paycheck do not come from the sales of a product or the labor you produce. Your budget and paycheck come from the tithes of individuals in your congregation. Who are you to waste a penny of what they have prayerfully and sacrificially given back to God in thankfulness to who he is? Your budget is not a reflection of how great you are at your job. It is a reflection of the stewardship God has gifted you with. Not everything you use for your ministry needs to be brand new. Not everything you use for your ministry can only be used once. Not everything you use for your ministry needs to be the coolest or most convenient thing. Be wise with your money, because it's not yours. If you're offended by this letter then chances are there are some things in your ministry you need to adjust. I know you, Danielle, so don't be too prideful to admit you've lost sight of what matters. Don't be too scared to let your boss know you want to change some things about your ministry, despite the fact that he/she may not agree with you. And don't be too arrogant to ask for help. Do good work, future self, and keep your eyes on Jesus.

Love ≠ Tolerate

Growing up hearing an average of four sermons a week, I got my fair share of the "love your enemies" lesson. However, it wasn't until a few weeks ago when I was reading it on my own that the gravity of the Matthew 5:43-48 passage began to hit me hard.
Whenever I had heard or studied these words of Jesus before it still said "love your enemies", but I always read it as "don't hate your enemies". There weren't many people I regarded as enemies in the first place, so whenever one of those few people came to mind I would be quick to mentally forgive their wrongdoings and go on not liking them (but NEVER hating - I was a good Christian, remember?). So, basically, I had conquered that command (sarcasm implied) and was waiting to dutifully obey whatever Jesus told me to do next.
However, after 21 years in the church and observing those verses for at LEAST the 382nd time, I really started to understand it. In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus isn't calling us to not hate our enemies, and he isn't even calling us to tolerate them. He's calling us to love them. All those years I had unconsciously replaced "love" with "tolerate" and didn't even think twice about it.
So why does that matter? Because, at least for me, when I choose to tolerate I choose to ignore. You're annoying and I don't like spending time with you? OK, I'll quickly change the direction I'm walking through the cafeteria to avoid crossing paths or shut my dorm door so you won't know I'm there. I'm technically not hating you…
But I'm certainly not loving you.
After I realized my drastic mistake, I began to think of the people I love the most in the world and how I demonstrate my love for them. I send them encouraging notes. I pray over them by name. I surprise them with their favorite Starbucks. I seek them out in church or the cafeteria to give them a "Danielle hug". I set aside my precious time to laugh with them, listen to them, and just be with them. That's how I love people - well, the people I like the most. And after reading that Scripture for the first time truly comprehending the standard Jesus was calling me to, I realized that's how I should start to love the people I like the least.
Love your enemies - don't just tolerate them.

13 Lessons from 13 Miles

Last September I signed up for a half marathon for a few reasons. It was on my bucket list. Someone I really looked up to and wanted to impress was running it. The friend I hung out with the most was taking a friendship hiatus, and I was frustrated and bored. So, naturally, I signed up to train to run for 2 ½ hours 2:41:32 straight.

If I would have known the discipline it was going to take, the incredible pain I would experience, or the constant dread that would ensue, I never would have paid the $55 and registered. And I never would have set out on the odyssey that taught me more than my finite mind can register even 10 days post-race.

I hate running. Even after training for six months and completing my first/only half marathon, I still hate it. I don't mean to be pessimistic, dramatic, or a complainer, but I'd rather have my feet chopped off than run another 13.1 miles. They feel like they've been chopped off anyway, so c'mon. Bring the saw. People talk about "runner's high". "Give it some time," they say. "You're gonna love it."

NO.

I felt as though I somewhat enjoyed it maybe five times. But I do know my deep, deep, deep hatred for the sport most definitely contributed to all the lessons I was taught as I limped up and sprinted down the endless hills of East Tennessee.

Lesson #1 - Doing something different introduces you to new people
I did my best runs at night or down back roads, and there was no way I was about to do those by myself (plus my mother would kill me if someone else didn't). Throughout my training I was able to run with friends I already had and with people I didn't know before. If I didn't have a running buddy, I would contact someone I knew ran and would ask them to come with me! So… Syd, Grizel, Megan, Anne, Shelby, Maya, and Lauren - thanks for keeping a girl going!



Lesson #2 - Running is a spiritual discipline
It may not be on many "spiritual discipline" lists, but I think it should be. Not only did running give me time to think things through rationally, it also presented long periods of time when I could talk to Jesus (that is, when I could think about doing anything other than breathing). Running through the mountains also put me smack dab in the middle of some of the most beautiful creation around. Ultimately, it taught me that even when I don't feel like it, even when my mind tells me "no", even when I think I don't have time, spending time with Jesus is always possible and always worth it.

Lesson #3 - Cars that honk at runners should have spikes thrust into their tires
But really. I don't care if you think I'm attractive as I wheeze through my open mouth, sweat in all the areas, and demonstrate the worst possible posture imaginable - do NOT honk at me. Or maybe you're just doing it because you want to see if it's possible to jump and run at the same time. Yes, I'm talking to you, Mr. Large Delivery Truck Four Feet from Me. A whistle (while also demeaning to women everywhere) is much more acceptable.

Lesson #4 - It's all about the shoes
Spend the money. Don't think you've snagged a deal on some cute-colored Nike's with your 30% off Kohl's coupon. If you're going to run long distances, go to a running store, get evaluated, and spend the $120.

Lesson #5 - Accountability means everything
If it wasn't for Lauren being on the receiving end of my post-run text messages replying with her all-caps and endless exclamation points, I'm not sure if I would have kept going. I'm normally fine with self-motivation, but only if I'm doing easy things. Her consistent "OH MY GOSH!!!!!!!!! I'm so proud of you!!!!!!!!!" and "Keep going! You're getting more disciplined!!!!" messages made me feel that the pain and time was somehow worth it.
My friend, Nina, was also great to have as accountability towards the end. She ran the same race as I did, and the last couple months of training she'd ask me fairly regularly how far I'd been running that week. Whenever someone's expecting you to run and asks you about it, it makes it so much more difficult to not run!



Lesson #6 - There is beauty in pain
Just kidding. No there's not.

Lesson #7 - God knows me
When I began training, I suffered from a ton of pride. I thought that since I was putting all the effort into training, then the results were from me. My body, my hours logged, my glory. People were going to think I was super cool and fit and dedicated. God had other plans, especially after I began asking him to strip me of my pride in any way he saw fit. Life gets scary when you pray prayers like that, people. Take caution.
The pain in my hips and knees became almost unbearable. There was one week in February when I almost gave up my entire endeavor because of pain. It was then that I realized that God gives me the strength to lace up my shoes and the strength to put my right foot in front of my left. It sounds so cheesy, but from that moment on I knew each run was a testimony of God's power and grace.

Lesson #8 - You can always do more than you think you can
Running is a second-by-second decision to put mind over matter.



Lesson #9 - Have a plethora of running buddy options
Like I mentioned before, having friends to run with helped tremendously. Because of my random schedule, I never ran at consistent times. Everyone else had random schedules, too, so it helped to have a list of people I could text to see if they were available!

Lesson #10 - Chew gum
It keeps the spit from building up in stickiness. Yum.

Lesson #11 - Get over the bad days
Some days it was all I could do to run a mile and a half. I felt like I was going to die. Some days I ran five miles and didn't even think twice about it. Oftentimes those two runs would occur in the same week. It's not about each day, but the weeks that turn into months. If you have a bad day, try again tomorrow (or three days later if you're like me).



Lesson #12 - God hears prayers
Before my race, the longest distance I had run was 9 miles, and that was almost an entire month earlier. I was about 75% sure I would have to end up walking at least part of the course. My prayer during all of March was, "God, please just let me run the whole thing. I've put so much time and energy and pain into this. I promise I'll give you the glory. Just please, please, PLEASE don't let me walk." And he didn't. Thanks, God! You rock.

Lesson #13 - Doing something hard is hard
When I added "run a half marathon" to my bucket list a couple years ago, I just stuck it next to "learn to juggle" and "have a Harry Potter marathon" like it was just something else I'd eventually check off. After I trained for and ran my first 5K in October 2012, I knew quadrupling that distance would be a tad more difficult.
During my six months of training I encountered challenge upon challenge. First of all, I was training during the winter, and I hate running on treadmills. This made for a few runs in the snow (which I learned to LOVE) and quite a few rescheduled canceled training days. Secondly, I experienced heavy amounts of pain in my hips and knees after the first month of training. If by some miracle I wasn't in pain after a run, I would rejoice. Third, during most of my training I was working 25 hours a week as a waitress and taking 18 hours of classes. I was pooped. Last of all, my training partner for the race moved across the country to do some awesome ministry mid-train. Good thing I'd already logged in four months of training by then, or I would have quit.



The last six months of life have been pretty difficult physically, mentally, and relationally, and running was a big part of it. Yes, it contributed to the hardships, but I think it ultimately helped more than it hurt. Friendships were made and deepened. I got to know my Jesus on a new, raw level I'd never experienced as I learned to fully lean on him step by step and day by day. Even though I'm determined to never run long distances ever again, the lessons I was taught will not be forgotten anytime soon... especially because I'm reminded of them every time I try to walk down a flight of stairs.

 

Be There.

When I was in high school my brother took karate, and his instructor would remind his students time and time again, "Wherever you are, be there." I'd never heard the saying before, but throughout the following four years I've heard it stated many different ways but with the same meaning: Wherever your body is present, make every part of you present there, too.

I find in many ways this comes naturally to me, even if it does take a moment to adjust. Just last week I was at school in Johnson City, Tennessee, and I did NOT want to leave for Spring Break. I knew I was bound to see some great people in the next week, but I seriously love my life at Milligan to the depths of who I am, so why leave it? Then I moseyed my way on up to Kentucky where the love of so many people was poured on me through birthday cakes, flowers, presents, hugs, and cards. I seriously love my life in Kentucky to the depths of who I am, so why am I going to leave it on Tuesday? And right now I'm laying in a bed in Nashua, New Hampshire. I surprised one of my favorite friends, Lauren, with a visit up to her new hometown because 1) I selfishly miss her, 2) I've never been to New England, and 3) she needed to be cheered up from the stuck-inside-working-all-day-still-trying-to-make-friends-plus-it's-negative-1000-degrees-winter-blues. And even though she and Jacob just went to bed at 10:30, every part of me is present here, and I don't want to leave.

Tennessee, Kentucky, New Hampshire, Baltimore, Europe - whether I'm exploring somewhere new or living life day to day, I try to keep that saying in mind - "Wherever you are, be there."

However, I've found that when you're honestly "there", it's impossible to leave without giving a piece of your heart away. Part of my heart is on Milligan's campus. Part of it is at the Merante and Pierce homes. Part of it is somewhere in the middle of the Alps. Part of it is at the Piazzale Michelangelo. Part of it is at Mountain Christian Church. Part of it is with Elsa McDade.

But honestly, most of my heart isn't anywhere I've visited or with any of my friends or in any of my homes. It sounds BEYOND cheesy, I know, but for the last few years most of my heart has been in a place I've never been. My life on Earth is fo'real rockin', but I still long for more. Sometimes my heart years for places so much it seems to physically ache, and my aching to be in Heaven and with my Jesus is no exception. Unfortunately for the time being, it's little different. Theoretically, if I want to be in Kentucky or Tennessee or Switzerland, I can hop on a plane and be there soon. And technically, I want to stay in New Hampshire by pulling an "Amy" (Parenthood, anyone?) and leaving school, I can (don't worry, Albrechts… it's not happening). But when it comes to physically being with my Jesus, I can't just get up and go, no matter how hard I want to or try.

So, how do I live out "Wherever you are, be there" when pieces of my heart are scattered around the globe and the rest of it is in the heavenly places? I don't think it's a question I have the answer to yet. Or maybe it's not the question I should be asking. But I'm determined for now to give glimpses and pieces of my heart to new places and more people as I keep my eyes focused on Who holds it in its entirety, cuz I've found that life's just more beautiful that way.

My World

I had an assignment in photojournalism titled "My World". Here it is.

            Some people generically joke about how naïve people often view life as “rainbows and butterflies”. Well, I truly believe my life is “rainbows and butterflies” – maybe not all the time, but for the most part it really is.

            What does that saying signify? For me the rainbows communicate the ability for colorful, beautiful moments to appear and for at least a second take one’s attention from whatever they are focused on. They may be rare, but they are anticipated, marveled, and remembered long after they have disappeared. On the other hand, butterflies are fairly common. They are not quite as large, not quite as awe-inspiring, and not quite as noticeable; nevertheless, while few are memorable, their existence brings little bursts of joy and delight each time one is spotted. This set of photographs portraying “My World” captures my personal rainbows and butterflies.

            The first rainbow pictured is of Maya and me at Starbucks. Maya is an incredible fourteen-year-old back in Louisville that I may love more than almost anyone else on the planet. I have had the complete joy of mentoring her for over four years, walking through life with her during her super-awkward middle school years, her first kiss, her first real boyfriend, dances, times when she thought God wasn't listening to her, and the temptations of high school. Whenever I have the chance to go home, most of my days are spent with her. Whether it’s long conversations about life and God at Starbucks or hours at her house eating dinner followed by a RedBox movie or a chat session on her bed, that rainbow is much anticipated, marveled, and remembered.

            The other rare opportunity photographed is getting to watch Broncos games with my daddy. He’s taught me to love the game of football ever since I can really remember, and whenever there comes a time when I’m actually at home and the Broncos are actually televised in Louisville, you will find me sitting right next to my daddy silently cheering them on with every play. Sometimes when I’m homesick, those are the moments I yearn to go back to. That rainbow is much anticipated, marveled, and remembered.

            My final rainbow is represented through the photo of the communion plates. These specific plates can be found in the 3^rd-5^th grade worship room at my home church in Louisville. Not only is the breaking of bread and the drinking of wine grape juice to remember my Jesus a big part of my world, but in the children’s ministry at Southeast it means even more. Sometimes when I am home for breaks I get the opportunity to lead a couple hundred kids in a communion meditation before they have their personal time with Jesus. This meditation consists of a 1-3 minute mini-sermon; because of my love for speaking the truth of the love of Christ in front of people, those times are treasured. That rainbow is much anticipated, marveled, and remembered.

            As for the butterfly-like times of joy and delight, I have three pictures of times like those as well. The first shows dinner with the “Me(a)g(h)ans” in the Milligan caf. Since a bunch of my friends are named different variations of Me(a)g(h)an, oftentimes we refer to ourselves as the “Me(a)g(h)ans”. Much of my life consists of eating and friends. That pair goes extremely well together. Even though the cafeteria food isn’t ideal, the times spent around those tables hold endless amounts of laughter, conversation, and the confirmation I want that I am loved. Even though it’s a common occurrence, dinner with friends feeds my soul.

            The next butterfly is portrayed through a close-up shot of my uniform for Firehouse. I’ve been an employee at the Firehouse Restaurant for about 7 months, and with 3-4 shifts a week, it’s a pretty large part of my world. When I’m wearing that uniform I get to talk to endless people, make endless salads, make (hopefully) endless tips, eat endless barbecue, and deepen endless relationships with my coworkers. It’s a place of joy for me as well as a place where I can distract myself for a few hours from the “real world” if needed. Even though it’s a common occurrence, working at Firehouse strengthens my soul.

            My final butterfly can be seen through a photograph of the sanctuary at my church. While I definitely enjoy my time there, this picture represents a little more than the weekends I get to attend Southeast. It communicates the large part of my life that is spent worshipping my great God, studying to learn more about Him, and learning to live like Jesus. Even though it’s a common occurrence, being with my Jesus fills my soul.

While I oftentimes think my world is super important, it’s really not. I pray that My World through these photographs represents a little piece of God’s World lived out through me. And if it doesn’t, then what My World is doesn’t really matter now, does it?

I Love that "People Always Leave"

Oh, how I hate goodbyes.

That quote in the title of this post was made famous by a certain P. Sawyer in One Tree Hill, and I've found it's true.

And the human side of me hates it. Really, desperately hates it. If only you could see me the 12 hours after I say significant goodbyes, you'd understand how deep my hatred for them truly runs.

Last week as I realized the impending departure of a good friend was drawing close, I started thinking about all the goodbyes I've said - some to friends graduating, others to those choosing to attend different colleges, and even more to friends getting new jobs. Right now alone I keep in pretty close contact with friends in California, Missouri, Florida, Arizona, New Hampshire, Kentucky, Maryland, and Kenya. Uh, yeah, long-distance don't got nothin' on me.

Then I began to think about the farewells I'm going to have to say to people in the future. More graduations. More moving. More new jobs. Yay. But immediately I realized what those goodbyes represent. Adventure. Exploration. New friends. More memories. Growing up. Fulfillment. Roadtrips resulting in free housing in new places. Knowledge of culture. Risk. Reward. And my favorite - ministry.

The hardest goodbyes I have ever said were because God was up to something much greater. When my parents made me switch schools in 6th grade. When the guy I thought I loved in high school stopped pursuing me. When I left my wonderful, comfortable life to go to Milligan. When I finished my internship at Mountain. When my magical month in Europe came to an end. When friends moved away.

In each of those situations the opportunity for great ministry was born. In my new school I met new friends who helped me fall in love with Jesus. Through the heartbreak I began to lean on Him in a whole new way. My journey to Tennessee continued the preparation for vocational ministry and gave me countless chances to love new people like Jesus loves them. Then I headed up north to a place that allowed me to pour into the lives of children and made my future path clearer. And then I gave a piece of my heart away to a continent - yes, a continent.

But recently the time has arrived for me to stay and for others to go. And, frankly, that's just not as fun.

Oh, but it is.

Risk. Adventure. Memories. Ministry.

I have some incredible friends, and I know that every time one of them spreads their shaking wings and trusts God, He'll swoop them where His name will be most magnified. So, God, if You have something so much better in store for my friends, then take them away.

Oh, how I love goodbyes.

I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.  Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

Ephesians 3:16-21

Hey - You're Flawless

Sometimes I just want to go around to everyone I see and tell them how much they're valued. How much they're loved. How much they're worth. Because if everyone in the world is anything like me in this area of life (and I'm guessing since we're all human, this pertains), sometimes they just plumb forget.

Because I'm generally an outwardly joyful and positive person, I think that sometimes makes me difficult for people to relate to. I don't usually hide my sin (I'm sure many of you can pinpoint many faults I have), but when it comes to things I deeply struggle with I only let a few select people know where I truly fall short. Between my selective transparence and my obvious happiness, I think that translates to the rest of those I interact with that I have it all together.

I don't.

I find my value in the number of likes I get on my Instagrams. I have a crappy attitude towards my parents when they ask me to help out, even though they're spending quite a large percentage of what they earn on my tuition. When I run I try to run on busier streets so that maybe someone I know will see me and think I'm awesome. I can't let other people win; even when I babysit it's hard for me to let the kids win sometimes (in Candyland... SERIOUSLY?!). I speed - a lot. I make people feel guilty about things they shouldn't. I struggle daily, sometimes even hourly, with controlling what I think and watch as it pertains to our sex-filled culture. My pride constantly astounds even ME. I usually find more value in certain people's opinions of me than in how God views me.

OK. That's enough, people.

My favorite part about all those things and the hundreds I didn't mention is that despite them all, I am valued. I am loved. I am worth everything to the God who designed every part of me. He called me by name. He sacrificed himself through Jesus because he wanted me to belong to him. Forever.

You, too.

I could find my worth through other people. What they think of me. How they see me. What they hear about me. What I post on Instagram. And oftentimes I do. But at times I have to give myself a reality check. Why would I want to focus on what other sinful humans think of me? I'm going to fail them over and over and over and over again, and then their opinions of me will be rightly marred. But if I focus on what my God thinks of me, my reputation is utterly flawless. Because I've given him full faith and control of my days, when he looks at me he only sees his daughter covered by the perfect blood of Jesus.

I don't know about you, but I'd prefer that grace any day.

But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine."

Isaiah 43:1

European Nostalgia

Most of my posts tend to stem from the thoughts that flow through my head as I lay down to fall asleep. Now it's 12:54 A.M., and all I can focus on is Europe.

It may or may not have to do with the 80+ photos of my summer adventures there that currently hang from sticky-tack on my wall less than 10 inches from my pillow.

But the truth is I think about Europe often. Almost daily, actually. It's difficult to differentiate the origin of my desires to return there. In some aspects it's truly the location. The beauty and wonder I experienced each day as I walked the streets of Spain, France, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, and Italy are some things I will never forget. Directly to my right at this moment is a picture of Darcie and me standing on the edge of the Adriatic Sea right outside Venice. A couple photos to the left is one of David, Mandy, and me on the edge of Lake Thun in front of the Swiss Alps. A few spaces away from that picture is my view from the Piazzale Michelangelo as the sun set. I miss the landscapes and the geographical location itself.

Maybe another reason my heart yearns to return is because I miss the relationships from there. Whether it's the roommate situation of Abby, Darcie, Kayla, and me or the Elite Eight or my connection with Mandy or the experience of the group as a whole, I don't know. But right next to me is the entire group picture from outside the restaurant our last night in Rome. To its right is a photo of a few of us exploring the gardens of Versailles. Not far is one of my favorite captured memories of seven of us girls throwing our coins into the Trevi Fountain. Yes, almost all the people from the trip are still at Milligan, but it's just different. No longer are we forced to spend our time together. No longer are we limited to just 39 other friends to spread our time between. Our relationships seem to be moving apart just like the days on the calendar from when we landed back in the States. 

Or maybe what I'm missing is the constant adventure. I can see the picture of me in the middle of a grove of giant trees I stumbled upon in Madrid as I was searching for an amusement park. I see the photo of me getting kissed on the cheek by Romeo, my handsome Italian man. Looking up I notice the picture of a group of us on a boat meandering our way down the Rhine River observing more than the dozen castles we passed. Each day was different. Each day was a step into the magical unknown. 

I'm assuming it's a mixture of each of those things that makes me want to return to the continent that has made its way into my heart. But whatever it is, it's a hard feeling to ignore. There are times when I'm tempted to spontaneously buy a ticket and spend a few days there. Some days all I want to do is go back. 

But sometimes I don't. Because I'm afraid my guess that it won't be the same will be confirmed. I'm afraid that in a different context with different people in a different situation will cause the European magic to disappear. And that, my friends, would be a great tragedy.

Oh, College, How I Love Thee

As I stood backstage next to one of my dearest friends a few Friday nights ago during our school's annual lip-synching competition ("Airband"), I couldn't help but smile. And I mean REALLY smile. I couldn't remember the last time I had been so genuinely and overwhelmingly happy I couldn't suppress it. There I was, dressed in Christmas wear about to perform "Jingle Bell Rock - Mean Girls Edition" (a two year dream of mine), alongside one of my favorite people in front of hundreds of pumped up peers and friends. Maybe it was due to adrenaline, maybe it was because of my nerves, but I was shaking and grinning and energized for four straight hours that evening. 



After we performed and brought laughter, music, and dance to the stage of the Gregory Center, Meaghan, Harper (my roomie!), and I decided to go grab milkshakes at Cookout - the local late-night food hangout spot. We returned to Milligan where I went to watch a movie with Hannah and her roommates. I returned to my room around 1 AM full of joy. 

As I laid in my bed I began to think... I love college. I don't ever want to leave. Yeah, I left my internship at Mountain wanting to graduate early so I could grow up and go into full time ministry and do what God created me for. But now that I've been back for a while, that's the last thing I want to do (not the ministry thing, but the growing up thing). In college I have immediate access to 50 friends at any given moment. In college there are activities available every single night - lip synching competitions, movie nights, worship sessions, festivals, sand volleyball matches, soccer games, fundraisers, cookouts, plus more. All I have to worry about is getting my homework finished. I get to begin my days with endless amounts of learning ahead. I can take spontaneous roadtrips. I can plan WHATEVER I want for my breaks. I can sleep in til 10 AM and take afternoon naps. If I'm feeling sad I can walk across the parking lot and have a number of friends comfort me. I have unlimited access to many professors who are rooting for me and challenging me. I have millions of books and journal articles and educational materials at my fingertips in our library database. I have someone who cooks all three meals for me every day. Every day is an adventure, because I never know what will happen. 

There I was, 1:30 AM thinking about the beautiful stage of life I am in, when I realized that it's not going to last much longer. I have 3 semesters left before I have to grow up, get a 9 to 5 job, manage responsibilities, be boring. Well, I don't have to be boring, but that's how it works in my mind. THEN I realized that one of my closest friends here, Meaghan, is graduating in May, and I'll have to spend my senior year at Milligan without her. We've been close since week 4 of freshman year, and thinking about being here without her by my side makes me sad. Really sad. I'm trying to think of more intelligent sounding adjectives than that, but in reality, I'm just going to be sad. Yes, I have many incredible friends who aren't graduating, and I'm looking forward to spending countless days living life with them. But it's just going to be different. With Meaghan I can be 100% honest, 100% weird, 100% myself, 100% of the time. I can tell her what I'm thinking, and even if she judges me, she loves me anyway. She knows where I fall short, and she knows where I excel. She knows what upsets me and what makes me passionate. She knows my lazy tendencies and celebrates with me when I work hard and succeed. She goes out with me in the cold at 11 at night when I put off taking pictures so that I stay safe. College without her will just be different.

Cue Danielle crying herself to sleep.

But that's 6 months from now. So in the meantime I will focus on the adventures of each day. Meaghan, here's to many more dinner dates, a Harry Potter marathon, a few roadtrips, a couple more late night photo adventures, some WalMart runs, a dozen New Girl episodes, a few nights of contra dancing, some snuggle sessions, and limitless hugs. 

I may only have 3 semesters left, but I'm going to make them count. Sure, I'll spend some hours studying, but I will focus mainly on the relationships I have here. Yes, the more I invest in the people here the more tears I'll have at graduations, but the more I invest in the people here also means the more joy I'll have on the days until graduation and the years after. 

Weekend of Waffles

Guys, I am just so encouraged right now. I am currently on my way back from a 4-day Fall Break spent in Maryland, and I’m overflowing with joy, passion, love, and encouragement. I’m not even sure if I can put it all into words… but what God does sometimes is WAY too big to put into words, isn’t it?

I’ll start with explaining the title of this post – Weekend of Waffles. This weekend I spent the night at three different family’s houses, and I wasn’t treated like much of a guest. There was hair in the shower drain, a stinkbug under my pillow, no breakfast waiting for me when I woke up, and when dinnertime came one night the family I was staying with said something along the lines of, “If you want to eat, go find something in the kitchen.” I ended up with a dinner consisting of 3 freezer-burnt microwavable chocolate chip waffles.

And I love all those things.

I wasn’t a guest in any of the homes I stayed at. Yes, they went out of their way to give me clean sheets and drive me places I needed to get to (and for those things I give my utmost gratitude), but when it came time to take a shower they said, “You know where the towels are… just grab whatever.” You don’t tell guests to find their own shower supplies or to grab their own water when they’re thirsty. Those are things you tell friends that have become an extension of family. With family you sleep in, run errands, watch murder shows, go on walks, sit down and don't have to talk, paint nails, make fun of, sing songs, eat meals, go to church, and much more that this weekend held. So to the Appels, Dudecks, and McDades, I thank you for allowing me into your homes and into your families. That's the biggest compliment and gift I could ever think to desire of you.

Another thing that hyped me up this weekend was Saturday night at the Cachiaras’ house. In 9 days, my friend, Kylie, is moving to Kenya for at least a year, and Ben, Karla, Kelly, and Rob invited some people who had influenced her life to come over to celebrate her and her upcoming African mission. The McDades were invited, so I tagged along to say my goodbye to Kylie and get some good snacks.

Pretty soon as we all ate and chatted, we gathered around and listened to Kylie share her current emotions about the move as well as her story of how she had gotten to that point. Following her testimony, Kelly and Rob shared their own stories as well as their emotions. The floor was opened after that to whoever wanted to reminisce on their experiences with Kylie or give encouragement to her. We finished with worshipping to Matt Redman’s “Never Once” and praying over Kylie’s new adventure.

Throughout the evening I did a lot of thinking, and seeing those who have influenced her so passionate and encouraged for her journey and seeing her excitement and relentless love for those she is preparing to interact with and serve encouraged me in my own walk. I’ve been focusing recently on the strength of my pursuit of Christ, and these days it hasn’t been very strong. I’ve realized it is because I’m so focused on what others around me want for me, what they want from me, and what I can do to make myself feel better… happier.

It dawned on me the other day like it has dawned on me many times before – if I pursue Christ and His desire for my life, THAT’S when I feel better… happier. That’s when I feel like I’m accomplishing something and when I feel passionate about life. Maybe because I’m doing what I have always been meant to do. Duh, Danielle.

So here’s to focusing every day – every decision, every moment, every interaction – on a much, MUCH bigger purpose than little ole, sinful, human me.