2015's Word

I forget exactly when I started choosing a word for each year. It was a few years ago, after I’d read a post on a blog I follow and the author chose a new word for each year. Something she wanted to focus on, something she wanted to change. It seemed like a pretty cool idea, and so I gave it a try. 2014’s word was “new” (funny, I thought that it was at least 2012, but this blog tells me otherwise!) and it seemed like 2015 was leaning towards the same. Because I can use the same word two years in a row, right? It seemed like that what was fitting when I thought about it, sought for what 2015’s “word” was. But even still, I knew that things don’t work like that. It’s when I completely empty out my mind, when I follow the notion of “now” that I pick out the slip that lets me compliment the person I wanted (if any old choir friends read this, they know what I mean). It’s the words that pop into my head unexpectedly, such as “Denise, cancer” when all of the youth at a summer camp I attended were told to ask God for a word or two and, as it turned out, the mother of a boy I knew, Denise, was battling cancer. Or guessing exactly the right number of something. So why would this be any different? Why wouldn’t my word just pop in my head as I was listening to a Taylor Swift mash up at 1:30 in the morning?

So what’s 2015’s word?

Be.

I want to be more present in all areas of my life.

I want to be wholeheartedly dedicated to all that it is I do.

I want to be with the ones who are right in front of me, not be on my phone.

I want to be healthier and exercise more.

I want to be more involved in the lives of my family members and friends.

I want to be closer to God, more aligned with his plans for my life.

I want to be not only content, but happy with everything that I have and am.

I’m incredibly excited for all that 2015 is going to be (didn’t even plan that one). I am aiming for it to include more time in this space here, but as I pursue other endeavors, I know this might sometimes take a back seat. We’ll just see what happens.

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Even if your night is when the sun shines.

I'm done pretending. I'm done acting like my life is perfect, like I am totally okay 100% of the time. Because my life isn't perfect and I'm not always okay.
I have struggled for a very long time with a lot of self-loathing. Much of it is general, while there are also specifics. There are things, leadership positions, and people that I feel I will never be good enough for. Issues and insecurities I feel I will never be able to overcome. People I feel I will never be able to forgive.
I know now that this is not true. Of course, that doesn't mean that the bad thoughts, the sickly ideas of myself, the hatred towards myself and those who have hurt me, are all gone. They're not and there are days, I know, where I am going to have to tell myself from the moment I wake until the time I finally fall asleep that I am good enough.
That I can overcome.
That I can forgive.
It is so easy to allow lies to plant themselves in your life because the devil is a sly creature. He makes it so that all it takes is one allowance for yourself to think "nobody likes me". Because then every small mistake and every big hurt manages to anchor itself to that lie. It compounds and builds and expands until that lie becomes the reality that you are living life out of. But just like the original lie, the new reality is a false reality. Seems like an oxymoron - a false reality. The thing is, it's not false to the one living it.
There are days where every interaction, every thought, every word I speak feeds into the false reality that I will never be good enough. Those days are the toughest. They are the days where I feel the furthest from light, love, and the Lord. I tell myself, though, that the day will pass and it always does.
This, too, shall come to pass.
It shall come to pass. These struggles will pass. And even on the darkest days when it seems like they WON'T and they NEVER WILL BECAUSE I WILL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH AND I WILL NEVER GET PAST THIS, that promise is what gives me hope.
Goodness, too, gives me hope. Because even the bad days are steeped in good. It's such an interesting thing, to be filled with both joy and sorrow, but it is so amazing because it shows the two can co-exist. It is so easy to let go of the issues and the self-loathing for an hour, or two, or less and find myself surrounded by happiness. My happiness is my sisters, my family and my friends, an upbeat worship song, a funny joke, helping a stranger or a loved one, a random act of kindness, reading the Bible. My happiness is the Lord and the fact that He tells me I am fearfully and wonderfully made. And so long as the happiness exists - which it forever will - I know that I can overcome the lies that have been planted in my heart. 'Fix a Heart', the song by Demi Lovato that I've been listening to as I'm writing this, says that "you can bandage the damage, but you never really can fix a heart". I call a false reality right there, because hearts, souls, lives? They can be fixed, or changed. Even the darkest of lies can be replaced with the brightest of truths.
Is my life perfect? Am I always okay? No. Not 100%. Some days are much, much better than others. But that does not mean I cannot get beyond where I am now, overcome the battles I find myself in. I have already overcome so much, but even more than that, I know the One who has overcome the world.
Take heart. Let His love lead you through the night.

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My "One Word" for 2014

A few years ago, I discovered that there’s this thing people do at the beginning of each year where they choose a word they’d like to apply to that year. I thought it sounded like a pretty cool idea, so I jumped on the wagon, though more with a phrase – make things happen.

I believe that was at the beginning of 2012 and I can’t remember what (if anything) I chose for 2013, but I found my word for 2014 today.

New.

Broad, simple, and easy to accomplish. I’ve got new resolutions for this year, such as working out more, eating healthier, and stop drinking pop. I’m looking forward to getting a new phone and slowly working towards a new wardrobe.

I’m looking forward to meeting new people, traveling to new places, and trying new things. Like doing laundry more than once a month/whenever I run out of underwear.

But I’m also working on being ready for a new kind of relationship. I’m sorting through issues from my past and trying to learn God’s take on self-worth and on healthy, Godly relationships. I have no idea when, or if, this new kind of relationship will happen (being single is totes magotes awesome right now), but this year is all about things new.

And with God, I’m ready to start new with Him, too. 2013 was not one I would put down in the “had a great relationship with God” section. I went to church every Sunday, spent time reaching out to students on and off campus, went on a trip to SDSU to do the same, saw friends give their lives to God, prayed, etc, etc. But I didn’t really read my Bible. In fact, I think that on my own, I’ve cracked my Bible maybe ten times in the past year. So it’s time for that to change.

I feel really good about my word for 2014. I’m excited to see how doors are opened and others are closed, how I grow closer to God and how He changes me more, and how amazing 2014 will be.

*This post is dedicated to Katie Wagner who, way back in 2011, inspired dozens by her brave soul and bright smile, and, in her death, showed thousands a new way to look at life.*

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Six Years

I’ve neglected this blog for far too long. Life has been insane, though. School started in August and went full steam ahead with SO much homework, projects, etc. We’re still working on the house, though the end is finally in sight. We just need to finish painting, get a little more organized, and take care of our front yard. It’s not bad by any means, the previous tenants just never trimmed any of the plants, so they’re a little overgrown.

But I digress. House and school is not (exactly) why I’m writing today. I’m writing because today, November eleventh, two thousand and thirteen marks six years. Six years ago today, on a slightly chilly Sunday morning, I arrived at my aunt’s house here in Arizona with my mom and sister and all of our things. I was sad and angry and I didn’t believe we’d stay more than a year – I hoped we wouldn’t stay more than that. I missed my school and my friends in Missouri and having already lived in AZ twice left a bad taste in my mouth. I started at a school down the street about a week after arriving and, from the get-go, hated it. We had to wear uniforms with our shirts tucked in and I got made fun of for carrying a purse (a big shock, since purses were all the rage at my old middle school). I desperately wanted to go back to Missouri, but it slowly became okay. I planned on still going back one day for college, but as I made friends and got adjusted to life here in Arizona, my wanting to go back lessened. Most days were spent with my then-best friend, Whitney, hanging out, watching movies like ‘Across the Universe’ and ‘Hedwig and the Angry Inch’. And Juno. Sometimes, I found myself still sad about having left Missouri, but it was mostly because of the plans I’d had for my life. I was all set to go to North Kansas City High School, enroll in the IB program, continue in choir, and become a teacher one day. Instead, I found myself getting ready to go to Glendale High School, home of the Cardinals.

My freshman year of high school marked a couple of big changes in my life. Whitney moved to another high school and, although we still hung out, we began to drift. Now, we’re Facebook friends and although I haven’t seen her in almost two years, she’ll always be the first friend I had out here. I soon became friends with Nikolina, who would hold the title of “best friend” for the next few years. In January of 2009, just over a year after moving to AZ, living with my aunt, bouncing between her house and apartments with my mom and sister, my mom was no longer able to take care of us, so my sister and I moved in with my aunt. For the first time ever, my sister and I each got our own room and we decorated it how we wanted. I was in choir, on the school tennis team and no longer dreaming of returning to Kansas City one day. I knew my life was in Arizona and, for the first time, began to hope we’d actually stay.

Sophomore year was a hard, hard year. I’d auditioned for – and gotten into – Vocal Ensemble (the highest choir at my school), but all of the girls hated me. I was ostracized and bullied because they mistook my shyness and quiet demeanor for being snobby and weird. In December, an argument (I won’t go into details because they aren’t important) led to me almost getting kicked out of my aunt’s house and getting taken out of Vocal Ensemble and dance for the next semester. I was extremely depressed and, in the midst of it all, my grandma, who had basically raised me the first four years of my life, was dying. I’ll never forget the day she died and when I heard the news. January 3^rd, 2011, at about 3:00 in the afternoon, my mom (who was staying over because my aunt was in Kansas City) came into the fireplace room and simply told my sister and I that grandma had passed away. After that, I became extremely angry at God. I hated him. I hated that He’d allowed me to get taken out of my favorite classes and that He’d taken my grandma away. I refused to pray or acknowledge God in any way and, from the time I’d left school for winter break, had not cried. This lasted until January 13^th, my 16^th birthday, when I finally broke down and cried. Some sweet sixteen, huh? The next semester was hard. I was in classes I didn’t like, with people I didn’t know, and music, which had always been my source of comfort and happy place during hard times, was gone. I could barely go into the choir room without crying and I did cry when I went to the choir concerts that semester. I just felt so alone and so without happiness and hope that I did, for a time, contemplate suicide. But instead, I made a little calendar on a piece of paper and, every night, crossed off one more day until the hell would be over. And before I knew it, it was. It’s not to say, though, that sophomore year was without its blessings and fulfillment of dreams. I never thought I would have braces and yet, I got them that year. Second semester, one of my saving graces was the fact that I met my to-this-day best friend, Mallory, at youth group. She and I got along so well, so quickly and I am so thankful for God bringing her into my life because I honestly don’t know where I’d be without her. I visited ASU for the first time, after having decided I wanted to be a choir teacher, and began dreaming of the day I found myself there.

Junior year was, by far, the best year of high school I had. My sister had moved out of my aunt’s house, so it was just me. Being the only kid in the house stunk sometimes because, when I was in trouble, there was nobody to come along and mess up (and thus take the attention away from me). But when it didn’t stink, it was REALLY, REALLY awesome. I often had the house to myself to play music, read, write, etc. I was back in Vocal Ensemble and had a lot of friends. When I asked my aunt if I could throw a Christmas party for VE, she let me. I made invitations and cute “margaritas” made of candy, decorated the house, and we ate, played games, and had a Secret Santa gift exchange. I was doing well in school and life was good. The day after school let out, my aunt, cousin, her kids, and I left for Kansas City. We drove and spent a week there, having a reunion with the family before I drove out to Illinois with my sister and her baby to spend a week at one of my aunt’s and uncle’s. My aunt came and got me after that and it was sad, leaving my sister whom I hadn’t seen in about ten years, but it was also cool to spend two days in the city, going to Navy Pier and museums. We flew back to Arizona, which was my first time on a plane and I spent the rest of the summer doing summer homework and just being lazy.

Senior year. Looking back, it’s hard to measure how difficult senior year was. I don’t mean school wise, but life wise. Three days into senior year, I moved in with my mom and it was such a shock. I went from living with someone who could give me what I needed and/or wanted to someone who expected me to be able to provide for myself because she couldn’t. I was working, but convinced my mom to let me quit so I could do the two theatre shows that year. I did, like I promised, get a job mere days after the second show was over in April, and enjoyed it a lot. I worked with Mallory and a bunch of her friends. We were all the same age and a lot alike, so it made going to work fun. I was stressed – I was going to school every single day and working twenty hours a week, while also having to go (and pay for) grocery shopping, clean the house, do the laundry, and cook dinner when I was home. But none of that really mattered. I’d taken my SAT and ACT and gotten an 1860/28, had applied and been accepted to ASU, received a scholarship, and my aunt had started taking me to orthodontist appointments again. That summer, I worked and worked and, on August 17^th, said goodbye to Glendale and headed out to Tempe with my things.

Freshman year, I moved in a day early and was appreciative of it. It got me on my own and gave me time to get situated before my roommate arrived. I met Allie, who I am still friends with, and had dinner with a girl living on my floor. Before I got to ASU, I’d been praying that God would lead me to a church. The second morning I was in my dorm, I was heading out to the bookstore when I got stopped by a girl who asked me if I wanted to take a survey for some free Gatorade. I seriously must have stared at her for forever. I was debating if I had enough time to take a survey and if I wanted a Gatorade. I finally decided to take the survey and saw it was just some simple check marks of what I was interested in. I checked off that I was interested in church, to which the girl responded that she belonged to a church and asked me if I would be interested in checking it out. I said yes and, the next day, found myself at Hope Christian Church. We went to eat at Smashburger after and I met a bunch of awesome girls including Sarah. I hit the ground running with Hope – getting involved quickly and deeply. My first roommate was not so awesome and, a month after school started, found myself in a new room down the hall with the best roommate ever (of that year). I became close with my CA and Peer Mentor, Casey and Allison, who served as role models, advice givers, listeners, and friends. Allison was, and is still, such a good person and friend and always willing to listen to me and help me figure things out. I became extremely good friends with Allie, Litzia, and Ann, and was constantly hanging out with them. For winter break, I went home to work, which sucked, but second semester quickly arrived. I rushed, accepted a bid to, pledged, and became an active member of Omega Phi Alpha National Service Sorority. Sarah and I became good friends and I found myself with an older ‘sister’ I could really look up to and get Godly advice from on pretty much any area of life. I auditioned for, but did not get into, the music school (though that was really first semester).

The summer between freshman and sophomore year, I moved back with my mom and boy, did that stink. I had gotten so used to my independence and only having to be concerned with myself and, suddenly, my mom expected me to contribute to a place I was never at. I basically worked all summer and slept at her place. Work was crappy, but I met two great girls, Nikki and Bailey, the latter of whom is like a little sister to me now. I was just counting down the days until August 1^st (you can read about that in my last post).

Now, it’s sophomore year. School is harder, but it’s manageable. Living in a Hope house is seriously the best decision I’ve ever made, tied with the decision to go to ASU. I love my roommates and, for the first time almost ever, I look forward to go home every day. I can’t wait to go home most days. I’m growing and maturing by the day and I can see so clearly where I want to be six months, a year from now. Though auditioning for music school has been put on the back burner for now, I’m not disappointed. I am content to wait for what I want most in this life (when it comes to careers, at least). Sorority life is wonderful and I’ve found an amazing friend in Rachel. My line is growing and I love every single one of them. I miss my LOA sisters, especially Allison, but the times I get to see her are just that more special. I’m learning to deny myself what I want now so that I can have what I want later and, in all, life is good. For the first time in a long time, everything is going well across the board. I’m not saying I don’t have bad days, because I do. Just, in the grand scheme of things, those days don’t affect me as much as they used to.

I’ve been waiting for this part of my life since I was 12 years old. And if someone had told me six years ago that this is what my life would look like, I would’ve called them crazy and I would’ve tried to imagine how on earth that could happen.

But I don’t have to imagine. It’s here and it’s more than I could have ever asked for.

The time is six years. The place is Arizona. The everything is my life.

And I love it so.

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Yesterday

Yesterday was THE day.

Since May 8^th, I’ve been counting down to August 1^st – the day I would move back to Tempe – and yesterday was finally it.
It still hasn’t set in yet. Hasn’t really hit me that Tempe is now my permanent (for the next few years anyway) home, that this house I’m in will be mine for the next 12 months. I don’t have to go back to working at the mall, don’t have to live at my mother’s anymore. Once it does really set in, I’m sure I’m going to cry or something, because that’s just what I do, but they’ll be happy, relieved tears.

So, without further ado.

Yesterday I woke up at seven in the morning to get dressed, eat, and finish packing. I pretty much just shoved everything into my laundry bag, stacked it and my pillows with all my other things, and called it a day. I was over packing at that point.
After a couple of errands, I arrived at Bug's house, which is about half an hour drive away from mine. We stopped for coffee, then headed back to my place to start packing. Miraculously we managed to get ALL of my things including a mattress (and minus my bed frame materials) into my SUV and headed on our merry way to Tempe, which took about an hour drive. It was a fun drive – just talking and singing along to my iPod as Bug played DJ. We arrived at the house (which I hadn’t seen before that moment besides in pictures) and oh man.
The previous tenants left the place a MESS and left the landlord without enough time to hire a cleaner before we moved in. Luckily, one of my roommate’s dad has his own cleaning company and she is a boss cleaner, too. But because of the state of the house, everything of ours had to be put in the garage. Bug and I did so and, after cooling off, I gave my cousin a call, curious if I could come get the headboard of the bed frame they gave me. We got the green light, so Bug and I hopped back in the car to drive to Buckeye.
We were both absolutely starving not far into the drive, so after stopping in Tolleson for gas, we walked over to Waffle House – which, if you’ve never been there, is SO ghetto, but SO good. It ended up taking about two hours to drive from Tempe to Buckeye (and included Bug and I getting trapped/lost on the 303) and we arrived just in time to have a couple minutes to visit with my cousins and their kids. I got a kick out of the fact that Bug, at 17, is only slightly taller than my cousin’s 11-year-old son. Cousin’s husband threw the headboard in the back of my car and sprayed some WD-40 on the hinges of the section of back seats that wouldn’t go down. Bug and I said goodbye, then headed off back to my house to gather the rest of the bed frame and the box spring.
Once back at my house, Bug and I quickly concluded that if we could not get the second section of seats down, we would not be able to get everything in the car. We pushed and pulled and prodded and prayed and I was pushing, not even that hard, when suddenly I started falling forward. Why? Because the freaking seat went down!
Overjoyed, Bug and I loaded everything up and headed back out to Tempe. We unloaded into the garage before heading out AGAIN to take Bug home. At that point, it was 4 in the afternoon and we’d been moving for about seven hours. On all the trips in the car up to that point, we’d talked and listened to music, but this time was quiet and Bug took a cat nap. We got back to her house and she showed me around, since she’d just moved herself. We had some cake, talked to her family for a little bit, then said hasta la vista. Not gonna lie, I cried for a little bit in the car. It’s hard leaving friends, especially one that is so much like a little sister to you. But I plan on kidnapping her often to hang out.
Driving back to Tempe was much quicker than driving away from it, and after arriving, got right down to work making food for the 284183758530201 guys who were helping my other roommates (there’s six of us total) move their furniture, and us. Moving, eating, and hanging out lasted until just before ten pm and we were all in bed (on couches and futons and mattresses on the hardwood floors) not long after 11 and pretty much all passed out.
So now that’s where the house is. We have a lot of cleaning and redecorating ahead of us, but my roommates and I are all really looking forward to making this house into what we want it to be.
Yesterday came and went and now I have 364 days to enjoy what it brought.

The time is fall 2013, the place is the new house, and the everything is the life we’re going to have in it.

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S.O.B (Shopping On a Budget)

I don’t know about you, but as a college girl, I’m on a major budget. I also LOVE shopping. (You can see why I have an issue with money.) I see pins on Pinterest all the time that link to lists of what claim to be “affordable” online stores akin to that of Forever 21, Charlotte Russe, etc.
Except, when did $30 shorts and $20 shirts become “affordable”? I can’t afford to spend $50 on two items and honestly, that seems a bit ridiculous. Why spend that much on two items when you can get multiple items for that amount, or less?
This is where my goal for this next year comes in: I never want to spend more than $20 on bottoms and shoes, $10 on tops, and $10 on accessories. Call me crazy, but it is possible – you just have to know where to look! For example, a couple weeks ago, I got a super cute shirt from Target for only $3.50. Sometimes, I am going to splurge on things I really want (like that time I spent $90 on a Steve Madden bag), but other than that, I’m going to stick to my guns and build the wardrobe I want affordably. I’m actually going to start making it a series on here - whenever I find something that matches criteria (it’s cute, I want it, and it’s cheap), I’ll share it!
I’m in the market for a new bag for the school year, so hopefully I’ll find something soon!

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Time for R&R

I had high hopes for today. After plans with one of my friends got canceled since she ditched me to go to California (just kidding, Bug. No hard feelings.), I decided that I’d use today to pack some more and get things together for moving – like laundry. I really need to do laundry. The mom I used to nanny for texted me last night asking if I could drop off the season passes I’d gotten her kids for a nearby water park before ten this morning, so I figured I’d get up, run over there, then come back and just have a productive day.
Except I woke up feeling like I’d been hit by a truck.
Sore, I had an earache in both ears, and my eyes were drier than sandpaper. I dragged myself out to their house (and pretty much have no recollection of the drive over there. Scary, I know.) and was back in my bed by ten. I texted Bug, saying it had been a good choice for her to go to Cali, then totally zonked until one this afternoon. I could tell I was really sick because, when I am, I can’t stand being touched by anything. Even air blowing on me bugs me like nobody’s business.
So now, here I am at almost three in the afternoon, still in my pajamas and in bed. My room is a mess, nothing’s been done, and I really want to go back to sleep. I want to be productive, too, but it’s more the idea of it than actually doing it, because I have zero desire to get up. I’m even supposed to go pick up my check and schedule from work, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen.
The fact that I fell asleep at work yesterday should’ve been indicative of today and it kind of was, but I’m always in denial when I get sick. I used to never get sick and then I got the swine flu in 2010 and it completely shot my immune system. Bug and another friend both said, “It’s a sign you need rest!” and I know that, but I just don’t want to! I mean, I would love to have a restful day, but only after I get everything packed.
I’m just being stubborn. And silly.
But seriously! I move in five days! I have to get my rear in gear.
Tomorrow.

On an end note, I wrote a comment to one of the bloggers I follow and she posted about it!!! It was definitely a highlight of this cruddy day. Her blog is called The Wolfpack Princess – go follow it!

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Updates

It’s been a long hiatus from blogging. Summer’s here and almost gone, and in its entirety, I haven’t found much to blog about. Aside from a few days spend with my family and friends (read: about four days in total), all I’ve been doing is working. And the whole routine of “sleep, internet, work, sleep,” does not an interesting blog make.

But I’ve gotta start somewhere.

Next Thursday, I will be moving into a house with four girls from my college/church and to say I’m excited is an understatement. I’ve been counting down the days to being back in Tempe since I left Tempe on May 8^th and I can’t believe it’s now only 8 days. It blows my mind, but it also couldn’t have come fast enough. Originally, the plan was that I would quit my job at the mall on July 31^st, move most of my stuff into the house on August 1^st, but then return home for another week of nannying (yup, two jobs!). The nice thing about plans, though, is that they change. For example, I’ll still be working my one job until July 31^st, but instead of nannying until August 10^th, I didn’t even return to nannying on Monday when the family got back from vacation. Everything really just fell into place to where I’ll be able to stay in Tempe and I’m looking forward to being back there because it means I’m finally going to be able to start down some paths that I need to. Including: seeing a dietitian and getting a personal trainer. The dietitian and personal trainer are two-fold: because I have vestibular migraines, I have to start on an elimination diet to see what foods trigger migraines for me (I already know that ice cream on a stressful or very busy day = migraines) and I need to start exercising. I’ve never really exercised before, hence why I would like a personal trainer to learn the ins and outs of working out and getting toned. Avoiding trigger foods, working out, having a set sleep schedule, and avoiding stress will all help keep migraines at bay and keep Elizabeth happy. And honestly, I’m not discouraged or disappointed by the fact that I won’t be able to eat anything I want, be lazy, and stay up as late as I want. I’m looking forward to learning what fuel is best for my body and treating it as well as I possibly can, through exercise and enough rest. Even though I rarely get sick, most days I always feel kinda yucky and I know that’s because I’m not taking care of myself. So I’m just really looking forward to it all.

Tempe, and my new house, also holds so much for change and growth in my life. I know that I’ll be less stressed because I’ll be submersed in a community that supports me and helps me through hard times. Not only that, but provides plenty of fun, carefree times. I’ll be more incentivized this semester to stay on top of things with all of my school, sorority, and church responsibilities, and I know that, by living with girls from my church, I’ll grow spiritually as well.

This time last year, I was excited to be moving to Tempe to start college, but also nervous. It was a whole new part of life and I had no idea what to expect. But I’m not green anymore and I know that this year may not be exactly what I expect (because it’s usually better), but I know that it is going to be one of the best.

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The Other Shoe

My cousin recently posted on Facebook how, when she wants to set a particular tone for what she is writing, she’ll pick a song that fits and listen to it on repeat. It resonated with me immediately because while I am the same way, I usually end up going back to the same song over and over again; ‘Rainsong’ by George Winston. It can set the tone for everything I write, especially here on this blog. It relaxes me, helps words and thoughts flow, and it never gets old. It’s only when I listen to it while writing that I think to myself, “I ought to listen to this more often. When I am upset and need to calm down, when I am anxious and ready to be back in Tempe. When I am frustrated with finances and worry about what the future will bring.” Music helps me so much in that way – happy music makes me feel on top of the world and music for any other emotion is like a sympathizing friend or a friend who brings reason and calm to an overwhelmed me. 

Recently, though, I’ve realized that I far too often seek help from sources other than God. Music, videos on YouTube, funny pins on Pinterest have been my go-to for when I need a pick me up for a long time. I ought to be seeking God when things go wrong – reading His word and finding resolution in Him, not e-cards and Brian Regan’s comedy routines. It’s all there, how to get through rough times, how to wait, be wise, be anxious for nothing. God clearly maps out for us what to do in pretty much every situation we’re ever going to face, and yet, I don’t seek that out. I could blame it on the fact that I have a King James Bible, so reading is hard to understand and little to no fun (and believe me, I use that excuse a lot), but the words of God in any version I choose are right at my fingertips and yet…nothing.

Most recently, I experienced this shortfall on Monday in the form of financial aid for next year. I had spoken with the financial aid office three times over the course of the day, and each time, the person I spoke to told me cost of attendance would be about ten grand a semester. The problem with that was I was only receiving just over what they were saying it would cost me. For a girl who comes from a very economically disadvantaged family, that news was devastating. My refund checks were what got me through last year and those stood at a little more than a grand. One thousand dollars, stretched over five months. What on earth was I going to do when it looked as though my refund check was going to be about $19? Sure, working this summer would provide me with some funds, but it definitely wouldn’t carry me through the school year. Then, there was the matter of where I’m supposed to be living next year – in a house with girls from my church. No way, Jose, was I going to be able to pull that off. I wouldn’t even be able to afford to live on campus. To say that I was stressed would be a severe understatement. In the midst of all this, I had to go to work. On the drive there, I did listen to worship music and I told God that I trusted Him, because I did and I do. But I could not keep myself together. An hour later, I was on my way home with someone else coming in to cover my shift because I couldn’t stop crying. It would’ve been different if just one person had told me what my cost of attendance would be. I could’ve thought, “Oh, they’ve just got something wrong. That number can’t be right.” But for three people to tell me seemed like the clincher. When I got home, my despair had mostly turned to anger and I spent the rest of the night fuming. Posting angry things on Facebook, snapping at people, wishing I could just go to sleep and not have to deal with any of these stresses, ever. What I should have done was run to God, and I didn’t. Yes, I prayed for Him to come through financially and reached out to friends for prayer, but I didn’t see what He had to say about the subject. I find myself doing this often. I don’t read my Bible in times of trouble (in fact, I hardly ever read it at all. That has to change.) and so I find myself lost. It’s only after the fact that I’ll find something or someone will send me a verse that pertains to my situation and I think, “Oh, if only I’d had that in the midst of panic and despair.” I could have it, if I just bothered to look. I did look at something – cost of attendance calculators, budget worksheets, tuition and fees, etc. I thought that the people from financial aid couldn’t be right, the numbers just weren’t adding up. It occurred to me, finally, that everyone I spoke to must have given me an estimation based on the thought that I would be living on campus next year. That’s the only thing that made sense. I felt relieved, but I still felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I didn’t want to say anything, think anything, believe anything would be alright until I had called student accounts the next morning to find out exactly what I would be billed for the next year, cost of attendance wise. The lady I spoke to on the phone was the first person to ask me if I was living on campus next year and, once I said no, informed me that it was going to cost me 10 grand a year for tuition and fees. “That doesn’t include books, supplies, and other things,” she said, but I didn’t care. Those things weren’t a hassle last year, they won’t be this year. I felt freer, lighter, and I profusely thanked God for his interceding on my behalf. 

And yet, I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m still, in the bottom of my heart, waiting. I trust God and in His plan for my life, but I almost can’t believe that it’s working out so well. I feel as though someone is going to come along and pull the rug right out from underneath me, say, “Just kidding, you’re not going to be able to afford to live in a house next year. You’re going to be weighed down with financial burdens, maybe have to get two jobs this summer and live at home next year.” And so, I’m conflicted. I feel like, even though I do trust God in all of this, having the fear that it’s all going to go south is not having trust. But at the same time, I think, “Well, if the other shoe does fall, you have to be prepared. You can’t get your hopes up that everything is working out because it never actually does. There’s always a catch, always a ‘but’, always a hurt.” I want to believe that that thought is a lie, that everything can work out. I’m acting like it can, but believing it can’t and I don’t know which to give into. If I act and believe everything will work out just fine, I – and others – find myself to be too flighty, irresponsible, not living in reality. But if I believe that it won’t work out, then I’m pessimistic, not trustful of God.

So where do I stand? That is my question. Can I believe without trusting, can I trust without believing? Or must they always go hand in hand? Am I afraid of the other shoe dropping? Yes. But I can’t live every day in fear, I know that for sure.

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On the Ball

These past few weeks have been hard, to say the least. I was absolutely sidelined after Spring Break by sinusitis and an upper respiratory infection, as well as extreme fatigue, nausea, etc, etc. About 835268692 doctor visits and medications later, I was feeling better, only to get kicked in the face by allergies. Now, I'm trying to play catch up with my school work and improve my grades, because Lord knows I need to.

I realized yesterday that if I want this blog to become something, become a space where I can connect with readers and such, I need to be more on the ball with posts and pictures (because I haven't posted ANY pictures yet). I'm going to start carrying my camera around and just snap away whenever I feel like it, because that's what this blog is supposed to be about. Every day life - moments big AND small - and so far, I'm not doing well at capturing or talking about the small.

Anyway, this post is short, but it's where I'm at, and I'm hungry, so it's time for this college girl to eat.

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Going

Like a typical college student, I went out of state for Spring Break this year to beautiful San Diego. Unlike a typical college student, I went with my church for a mission trip. For three days, we were on the SDSU campus, surveying students about their beliefs of God and Heaven and listening to talks by our pastor and his wife – all of which I’ll talk about in another blog entry soon. For the other two days, we hung out on Mission Beach, which was literally a five minute walk away, eating, surfing and having fun. While there, we stayed at the beautiful Bahia Resort Hotel and let me tell you, compared to my dorm room’s bed, the mattress I slept on felt like a cloud. Our private patio looked out onto an inlet of the ocean and we sometimes had two visiting ducks come right up to our sliding glass door. There was a small kitchen, a dining table, and – other than the fact that one of my roommates had to sleep on couch cushions on the floor (points to her for being awesome and a good sport about it) - there was room for all five of us roomies. Most days, since we were out by nine am and often not back until late at night, we didn’t see the maids come in to make our beds and clean. It was almost like little fairies were doing it.

Then, one of the days, the maid must have been in a rush because the dish towel was on the floor and the trash can was out, missing a new bag. I sighed with a minute feeling of irritation and put the garbage can away. Mostly, that irritation was rooted in the fact that I don’t like putting garbage into cans when they don’t have bags in them because it makes the can gross. But it was also partially in the fact that here was this woman (or man) who was supposed to be doing her job and she hadn’t done it all the way. Then, either the next day or the one after that, one of my roommates and I happened to come back to the hotel room while the maid was still there and as I sat down on my laptop, camera and iPod in hand, she cleaned up around me. And I felt very, very weird.

‘Why is it that I, at 19, get to sit here and pin cute things on Pinterest while this woman I don’t even know who is probably twice my age cleans up the mess I made?’ I thought to myself. Then I thought back to a conversation I’d had with a friend earlier this semester.

“I wonder how it feels for the people who work here (meaning ASU) to serve food to, clean the dishes of, and pick up after students who they know are going on to be things like doctors, lawyers, teachers, and engineers. Things they could never be because they never could afford college.”

I wondered then, and I wonder now, how it feels for people who are in less fortunate situations to look at people who have more than they do. I know sometimes I’ve felt like I don’t have as much as some of the girls on my floor do and even though I may not, when I was sitting in that hotel room with all of my electronics and blissful happiness at how my spring break was going, I had more than the woman who was washing my glass did. It really brought into perspective how far I’ve come from my past of being poor and although it’s not like I’m rich or anything, I’m going somewhere, making something of myself.

But that maid. Where is she going?

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19 Things for 19 Years

On the 13^th of January, I very happily rang in my 19^th birthday. It was a wonderful day surrounded by friends who are like family to me and I came to the decision that Sunday is the best day to have a birthday – no classes and there’s church (looking forward to you, 25^th birthday)!

The day was extremely busy, from an early morning IHOP breakfast to a 9pm dinner at Applebee’s. I didn’t think I’d have a moment to myself, but I ended up having several hours to focus on homework and just reflect on being 19 (age is a big thing to me. I always think I’ll feel older. Never happens.). Almost immediately into reflecting, I knew there had to be something different about this year. I wanted to reach out, volunteer, make a difference.

And so “19 Things for 19 Years” was born. I’ll share my list with you:

1.      Sponsor a child in India

2.      Donate toys to a children’s hospital

3.      Buy an animal from Heifer International

4.      Donate clothes to charity

5.      Volunteer at a soup kitchen

6.      Participate in the 2013 AIDS walk

7.      Volunteer with meals on wheels

8.      Give blood

9.      Purchase gift cards for needy families

10.  Donate to Toys for Tots

11.  Be a Christmas angel

12.  Donate to I Am Second

13.  Give to natural disaster relief fund

14.  Buy ‘make change’ bracelets

15.  Donate to Operation Smile

16.  Participate in Autism Speaks walk

17.  Donate to a Jesus Well for the Dalit people in India

18.  Partner with Polaris Project

19.  Raise $1,000 in 19 months for (RED)

Yesterday, I spent the afternoon spring cleaning, so today I’m dropping off bags of clothes at the Swift donation box outside my dorm room. However, I’m not crossing number four off the list. Some of these I plan on doing several times throughout the year because the need that those charities are meeting never goes away. And honestly? Some of these goals I’m a little nervous about. I've never fundraised before, so I felt a little overwhelmed. But I know that when I listen to Him, great things follow. I also know that completing some of the above will require personal sacrifice. I was planning on getting a tattoo on the year mark of getting my last one. It’s against the law, however, to donate blood or marrow within a year of getting a tattoo, so the second one I want so badly is going to have to wait. It’s so going to be worth it, though.

Before I go, I just want to say that I am not sharing all of this to put myself up on a pedestal and saying, “Look at all the wonderful things I’m going to do!” Because I may not be able to complete all 19 things, even. I’m doing this to show that you don’t have to be the CEO of some big company or be raking in millions of dollars in order to support charitable movements, to make a difference in this world. You can be a 19-year-old girl at college just trying to scrape by with a good GPA and not too many expenses. You can be a four-year-old girl trying to make a difference by selling lemonade. You can be anything and you can make a difference.

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Bold and Brave

Two Fridays ago was one of those days where I felt good because I accomplished so many things. I only have class from 12-12:50, so after a quick lunch, I found myself facing my increasingly messy side of the room (I’m not typically one to just “put things away” when I’m done using them), determined to class it up. Also being five days into October, I thought it’d be a good idea to update my whiteboard calendar. Putting on some music, I buckled down and managed to get pretty much everything besides vacuuming and trash done by the time four o’ clock rolled around. But as I was working on my calendar, a feeling hit that I get every so often while in my dorm: I need to get out. Usually when I get that feeling, I just head a few doors down to my friend’s room and hang out in there, but this was an I need to get out of the dorms kind of thing. So I picked up my phone and fired off a text to my three best floormates, asking if they wanted to go to the movies that evening. We talked and although Ann declined because her boyfriend was in town, Litzia and Allie both agreed to go see Pitch Perfect with me. We decided on the 7:40 showing because, being college students, we’re highly dependent upon public transportation that stops at 11.

Except I said that it didn’t.

“Are you sure?” Litzia asked me.

“Yes.” But in truth, I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure when the bus stopped running because I really didn’t know how to read the schedule. Unfortunately true to our usual selves, we left way later than we should have and ended up having to see the 9:00 showing. I wasn’t worried when Litzia nudged me during the movie and said it was almost 10:50, wasn’t worried when we had to run like hell to get to the bus stop, and I wasn’t worried when the bus did arrive and the driver said he wasn’t going back to ASU. I could tell Litzia was nervous and that Allie wasn’t exactly peachy, but I said that we’d be okay because I really did believe we would be.

Luckily, another bus came and we were able to get back to ASU. However, when we were riding and trying to decide where we should get off, both Allie and Litzia said something that struck me.

“You decide where we get off, Elizabeth,” Litzia said. “You’re brave.”

Allie agreed. “Yeah. You seem pretty bold.”

I felt so happy in that moment. I was pleased that two people would actually describe me as brave and bold because, truth told, I didn’t used to be. From the time I was a child, it was instilled in me that the world was a dangerous place. I have my mother to thank for this, though she did it unintentionally. I know every mother wants to protect her child(ren), but mine took it to the extreme. My sister and I began staying home alone when we were just 8 and 9 years old and although we nearly killed each other every day, what we didn’t do was play with friends. Why? We were forbidden to leave the apartment. My mother always needed to be able to get in contact with us and, in her mind, if she couldn’t, that meant we were in danger. My sister and I weren't even allowed to cross the street to get the mail, or open the door to let our friends know why we couldn't come out. When we were older (11-13 & 12-14), the three of us lived in a little house with a huge backyard. There was nothing in this backyard, and the only way to get to it was to go out the front door, around to the side of the house, and through a gate.
Did I ever make that trip? Not hardly. Once again, my sister and I were forbidden to leave the house. Every single day for five summers was spent inside.

Later, when my mom granted my sister and me even more freedom, the fear had been installed in us that someone was going to kidnap us as we walked down the street. If I was walking to my friend's house, I had to text or call my mom as soon as I got there. I was afraid of any approaching person or car. When my friends and I would walk around at night, I nearly had a heart attack out of fear. Being home alone late at night would equal all lights being on, every door locked, and every door to a dark room tightly closed. And walking around in the dark? Forget about it.
I was terrified of my home, my surroundings. Terrified. Nobody should be that afraid of what's around them.

Then, suddenly, I wasn't anymore. Without even realizing it, I could walk home without being afraid that someone was going to snatch me up or shoot me. I can’t even pinpoint exactly when it happened, just that it did. Coming to college increased that bravery because even surrounded by 70,000 other students, I am alone sometimes. Going to class, walking to the MU, so many other things require me to rely on myself and nobody but.

And I can’t rely on myself if I’m afraid of the world.

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College and Other Fun Things

Before I came to college, I thought I knew exactly what college would be like or, at least, what I hoped it would be like. I thought my classes would be hard, but I hoped choir and dance would make it worth it. I hoped my roommate and I would get along and be friends, hoped that it wouldn't take me long to find a church and a community.

I very quickly found out college is nothing like what I expected. I've been here for about a month and a half and in that time, I've discovered I hate my dance class, Biology and English are a struggle to stay awake through, and that every other class is a piece of cake (I have seven classes total). My social life has exploded, something I'm very happy about considering it was almost non-existent in high school. Unfortunately, there is also a bad side to college not being like what I expected. To say the least, I have a new room and roommate and my old roommate acts like she doesn't even know who I am. The week leading up to the day I moved and even a few days after was extremely stressful and I spent almost an entire day in bed. But I've moved past that, and life is even shinier on this side of the dorm hallway.

Thursday night, a spectacular fashion event took place on the ASU campus where fashion expert Shari Braendel (of http://www.sharibraendel.com/) spoke on different body types and what colors look good on someone depending on their hair, skin, and eye color. I learned I'm an 'X' body shape - meaning when I gain weight, it's evenly distributed around my body - and that I'm a 'deep', so colors like sapphire blues, deep reds, and emerald greens really go well with my brown hair and eyes. Shari even has a section on her website for a free online color analysis and I highly recommend checking it out.

Today, as a follow-up event, about 100 girls who went to the event all loaded up on buses and headed to the San Tan Village in Gilbert. As soon as we got there, most made a beeline towards Romy's (http://www.romystyle.com/), who was giving everyone with the event wristband 70% off. Yes, SEVENTY percent off!

Got this cute little top combo:

Green cardigan, flowered knot tank, and headband from Romy's. Bangles set and charm bracelet from Charlotte Russe.

This whole outfit that I'll definitely be wearing the bracelets with:

And a shirt/cami in my favorite color:

I also bought two other camisoles and a flowered ring, but they didn't make it into pictures.

College definitely hasn't been what I expected it to be because it's been so much more. Coming to ASU has been the best decision I have ever made and I wouldn't trade this experience for the world. I love the friends that I have made and the things I've done and I cannot wait to share them all with you.

Disclaimer: All of the opinions stated here are my own. I am not being paid in any way to promote Shari Braendel, Romy's, Charlotte Russe, or any other brand I mentioned here.

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Community

                 There is something about being gathered at a place with people because of a commonality. A concert by your favorite band that also happens to be 37263567 other people’s favorite. A blog conference because you and people like you put virtual pen to virtual paper and share thoughts with complete strangers.

                For me, that moment usually came at Christian concerts. I would stop and look around at the packed stands and think, All these people are here because they believe in God, just like me. I felt a sense of community. That, even though I didn’t know almost all of the people gathered around me, didn’t know their names and their stories, what brought them to that place, I knew that we had something in common.

                When I came to ASU, I worried that I wouldn’t find that community, or that it would be difficult to find. But what I didn’t know was that the community I was searching for was waiting literally right outside my door. What I thought was just going to be a morning running some errands, God knew would be the day where two girls were taking surveys in front of my dorm. God also knew that they would be offering Gatorade to people for participating, knew that I wouldn’t stop unless they had grape.

                And they had grape.

                I didn’t think much of it. I didn’t even really know who or what they were representing- my thoughts were more on the fact that I needed to find a Campus Corner to buy an ASU shirt and get back in time to clean the room up for my roommate to move in. So I read the list of things under ‘Interests’ and checked off a few. Interested in music? Check. Interested in comedy? Check. Interested in church?

                Check.

                One of the girls there, Megan, took a glance at my paper as I was filling it out and said to me, “I see you’re interested in church?”

                That’s how I found my community. Grape Gatorade drew me in because although I didn’t know, God knew that these girls were part of a church on campus. He knew that just by checking off a simple box, I would immediately find my community.

                I did. I found my community.

                From Day One, I have been welcomed with open arms. Invited places, included, cared for, and I’ve never felt more loved. I see these people nearly every single day at church, playing Ultimate Frisbee, Bible Studies, Acts 2 Alpha, Fight Night, spending the night, and more.

                Although it’s been during these moments that I’ve thought, “How awesome it is that I have all these friends who believe in exactly the same thing I do,” it really only hit me this morning during a talk at my friend Sarah’s house.

                Any time I need prayer, all I have to do is ask. Any time I need advice or someone to talk to. Any time I need help understanding a Bible passage or furthering my relationship with God, all these amazing women are constantly around me. There’s something so special about being able to go to them about things like my past and how it affects me now and not just get secular answers, but answers and support straight out of a book we all hold so near and dear to our hearts. I love how much I am challenged in my faith and how when Alicia asks me a question, she’s not afraid to respond to my answer with, “Maybe you want to think about that again,” because she really wants me to understand. I love that Sarah and I can so easily go from having coffee and talking about classes and music to worshipping our hearts out, just in a few hours. I love having this community that I know will always be there, will always be kind.

                I look up to these people. I know they aren’t perfect in their faith and in their lives, but they are trying, they are striving for a better relationship with God every.single.day. That is what matters, and every day, I am so very thankful that God interceded when I least expected it.

                Friends, fun, laughter, sleepovers, movies, food, coffee, Fugitive, SDS, SDWP, service, worship, Bible, God, questions, answers.

                Community.

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