On the Verge

Imagine a flat plain as far as the eye can see. It has slight dips and rises, but the land flows in a relatively consistent stream. As you approach a small rise seemingly no different from all others you have strolled up, you spot a difference. Off in the distance, there is a dark area. An unknown patch. Not menacing, but different from any other area you have seen.

When you gradually make your way closer, a gray wall of fog materializes in front of you. Somehow, you know that you must step in. You must take the risk. You must trust that the path for your life runs through that unknown patch, that unseeable future.

I am facing a towering column of gray fog. As I spent tonight packing up my room and preparing to leave Gustavus in the morning, I was visited by wonderful friends who came to wish me luck and say goodbye. They constantly expressed their excitement for the opportunity soon to arrive in my life. While my excitement about studying abroad in New Zealand is real, I can sense the uncertainty facing me.

I love to plan out my career path, my college courses, the steps in my relationships, and my days. A problem arises with this futuristic strength when one is confronted with a future that is simply unknown. I cannot see through the fog to predict the friendships that will be formed, the lessons learned, and the experiences had. I cannot even rely on the comfort found in a known academic situation.

As I sit here on my bed and gaze down at St. Peter from my window, I am struck by the beauty of the small bed of fog resting over the town. It blankets the orange lights and all the buildings seem to nestle sweetly down in it for the night.

The fog is beautiful. It is filled with new surprises and twists. An unexpected friend or helpful stranger may pop out from the mist and bring joy to your life. In the same way, a difficult experience or stressful issue may leap up at any moment. Through all, I find comfort in this: God has promised to guide me through New Zealand and beyond. As I began preparing for this trip during the summer, God laid a verse on my heart that has brought me peace. In Psalm 139, it is written:

"If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,

your right hand will hold me fast."

I will be on the far side of the sea in eleven days. While the things to come seem enshrouded in fog, I know whose hands I am in. They are strong, caring, and dependable hands.

Same-Sex Areas?

I recently filled out a form for my housing in New Zealand. One checkbox read, "Same-sex area required?" Thinking this was referencing the presence of a singular gender per floor, I checked "No."

Upon reflection, I have no idea what "Same-sex area" means. Will I have a flatmate of the opposite gender? Will I share a room with a guy? Where will I change? Will I have to fall asleep to snoring? What if he doesn't bathe regularly? What if he enjoys listening to death metal or never leaves the room due to a video game addiction?

Unfortunately, all of these thoughts hit me a few seconds after I had clicked the "Submit Form" button. The concerns were exacerbated after hearing a few hours later that a friend's brother had a female roommate during his study abroad in Australia.

Interesting, huh?

After some prayer, I realized an important thing: this is the beginning of the adventure.

It may be one filled with smelly socks, rugby games, and whatever else boys in New Zealand enjoy, but it will be my adventure.

Blessings aplenty.

I am blessed.

Too often I overlook the undeserved gifts around me. I have wonderfully supportive people in my life who care about me and enjoy (or at least pretend to enjoy) my quirky sense of humor. I attend a challenging college where I am involved in a strong community. I have the financial means to travel across the world for an extended period of time. Most importantly, I am loved inexplicably and intimately by a God in a way beyond my comprehension. To forget these blessings is to give into my natural tendency: to focus on what I see as insufficiencies instead of being grateful for the plenty.

With a long trip looming less than three weeks away, a new goal has arisen in my mind: to live each day in gratitude.

Whether I am facing difficulties certain to arise or passing through experiences easily, I intend to live each day cognizant of the blessings in my life. A wise person told me this morning that adventures are simply inconveniences viewed in a different light. I desire to attune my mind's lenses to that light. I desire to appreciate the small blessings. I desire to see God everyday in the little things of life.

New Zealand, here I come. I am a young traveler prepared to be challenged, confused, and grown.

I am blessed.

To be busy is to be happy?

So I'm busy. That's really all I can say right now. Between four classes (two of which include a ridiculous amount of lecture/lab time...), applying for programs here at Gustavus, applying for summer jobs, visiting my adopt-a-grandma, training for a half marathon, keeping up with my friends, and still maintaining a relationship with God, all I can say is I'm busy. And I am tired.

The Beginning.

I'm meant for something meaningful. Something special. I'm not saying this in a way to aggrandize myself or to give myself self-confidence. I just have this feeling, this innate sense, that God has great plans for me. If only I had some sense of what they are.

Perhaps God's plan for me right now includes not having one. It involves not knowing what I'm going to do with the next 6 months, the next year, the next forty years. Perhaps God is teaching me the lesson of trust. My entire life has been structured. College was expected, not chosen. I'm not saying that I begrudge my decision to go. In fact, I think college is one of the best things I have ever done. But previous to it, I hadn't worried about what I would do with my life. Ideas had flitted by me and I had occasionally entertained a few (firefighter, paramedic, cancer researcher) but never latched on to one as my "calling".

College is an entirely different world. Everywhere I look I feel this pressure, this frenetic search, this unstoppable weight constantly asking me the worst question, "So, who is God calling you to be?" I can honestly answer this question by saying that I am a child of God. My identity is in Him. He has filled me with His spirit. But sometimes, I think I'm just regurgitating the lines handed to me in Sunday school, in youth group, in worship. I know them to be true, but I wish they were more tangible. I wish my relationship with God wasn't something I constantly felt guilty about not keeping up on. One of my weaknesses is my tendency to drop relationships when I am not around people. With God, it sometimes feels like I'm always running a step behind, trying to catch up to God and ask him what he thinks. Life just moves so quickly and I can't keep up.

A year ago, I was worrying about what color prom dress I would wear. This is not to say that I didn't have deep thoughts. I was struggling with where to go to college, with my relationship with my boyfriend, with keeping up my grades. But they were not the same issues as when you don't believe you're smart enough to do something or you don't have enough courage to fail. College, instead of making me feel more directed, more "me", has revealed that I have no idea who I am.

I know who I want to be. I want to be someone passionately seeking after God and his purposes. Someone who draws people in and is easy to talk to. Someone who displays the radical love only possible through relationship with God. The problem is I don't know how to get there. I don't know what career to head towards so that I will be used best there. I have specific gifts, specific strengths, but I don't have direction.

So this first post is all over the place, but it's all true. It's me. It's out there and revealed. I'm beginning to believe that this feeling of not having a plan may be one of God's most ingenious ideas yet.