Showing posts with label grad school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grad school. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

River Reflections

On the last night of summer camp each session, we all go to the camp's dock on Little River, high atop Lookout Mountain. In the moonlight, we can see the faint outline of the blob and it's staircase, the edge of the concrete dock, the bleachers where campers sit, the canoe shed.

Little River
We light the campfire, sing our evening songs to the strums of Shannon's guitar, watch with awe as counselors in canoes lit only by torches sing hymns as they round the riverbend, and listen intently as volunteers from each cabin read aloud their cabin's wish for the session, usually something along the lines of: "We wish we will keep old friends and new friends, make it home safely, and come back next year." The director, Mrs. Susan, gives an inspirational talk, encouraging us to love those we meet or press on through difficult times. Shannon plays Michael W. Smith's "Pray for Me" and we dismiss with hugs.

As I worked the entire summer (five sessions), I had the honor of attending five River Reflections. They provided the appropriate closure for the session and, in the case of our final session, appropriate closure for the summer. Therefore, this post presents closure for me personally: my own River Reflections.





I lived in two cabins over the course of the summer: my first cabin was for ages thirteen and fourteen, and my second housed girls eleven to thirteen. My co-counselors (fellow college students) and I often wondered aloud to each other: "Was I like that when I was their age?" We encountered strange things, like eleven year olds with cell phones and boyfriends, or thirteen year olds unable to deal with a simple disagreement. Thinking back to my middle school days, I realized so much has happened since then. If I compared my twenty-one year old self to my middle-school self, I am almost a completely different person. I mean, I'm still me. I'm still Alex, introverted people person who likes mint chocolate. But since then I have learned how to drive, I have moved away from home, started college, had actual jobs, my car's broken down, I've made friends my parents have never met, I've been out of the country, I've driven more than five hours by myself, I've done my own laundry, shopped for and cooked my own meals... I am closer to twenty-four than I am to fourteen.

Yet what was so incredibly cool is that camp breaks down the walls between my twenty-one year old self and these thirteen year old girls. Yes, my co-counselors and I are the authority figures. But we are also friends with these girls. No one is driving, no one is using their cell phones, no one is cooking their own meals, everyone sends their laundry out on laundry day and has to go searching for it the next day. We were more equalized than we would have been in real life.

This gave me the opportunity to speak into my campers' lives. I read Bible verses and prayed with them at bedtime, spoke positive words over them, and played games with them. In fact, when one of our girl's parents arrived to take her home this last session, she gave each counselor a letter she had written for us. She mentioned in the letter that it meant a lot to have someone like us to look up to. I grew to really love the girls each session. Sometimes I became apathetic towards building new friendships with them, since each group stays for two weeks or less and then a new group arrives, but God always sent encouragement my way to keep loving on them.



One of the most difficult aspects of camp by far happened because I loved these girls so much. Ironic, isn't it? Over the course of the summer, I dealt personally with young ladies who were involved in self-harm, bullying (both sides), who struggled with parents divorcing, eating disorders, who were developmentally delayed, and much more. Not only did circumstances like these require me to heavily depend on my co-counselors, head counselors, and the directors, but I was broken for these girls before God. I learned what it means to ache for someone and realize there is little to nothing you personally can do for them. I remember one night, after a particularly difficult day, getting into the shower after all the girls were in bed and just crying. There's so much I can't do, but I learned what I can do: pray and speak truth and love.

I truly learned to love on some precious girls.



Late one night, after tucking all the campers into bed, I was reading my Bible and reflecting on the day. I began contemplating on our one Jewish camper. Now, the camp itself is a Christian camp, but we accept girls of all religions who are of good character. We model Christianity through our actions and we teach it at morning watch and campfire, but many nonbelievers or other-believers choose our camp regardless.

I wondered that night whether I should encourage her sharing about her religion or ignore her differences. I knew I would respect her and her beliefs, but I wasn't sure how that would work with camp and the other campers. I debated whether or not to read only Old Testament passages at bedtime or to eliminate mention of  "Jesus" when I spoke around her.

And then I thought about her faith. I don't know how devout her family is, but Judaism as a whole is a very intriguing religion. Jews must have the most hope and faith of anyone I know. Case in point: they believe that the Messiah has still not come - and that God is still silent. He has not spoken to the prophets since Old Testament times, and they are still waiting patiently for their Redeemer. What awesome hope is that!

While I praise her hope, I am heartbroken that she is still waiting for the Messiah. "Hope deferred makes the heart sick," says Proverbs 13:12.

I chose to read from the Old Testament when I put her room to bed, but I didn't shy away from Jesus. He, of course, fulfills and proves the Old Testament. And I came to love her as person, not seeing her religion, but seeing her heart, seeing her likes and dislikes, loving her humor and smiling at her jokes. I pray her experience at camp planted a seed or maybe watered a growing one, but I know God is working in her.



This summer, I worked on the ropes course and co-taught a few knitting classes. And if you know me, I am not much for heights. At all. But I signed up for the ropes course because I love the thrill of the adventure. I'm tired of being boring.

We went through a week of intense training on the elements, sometimes going through each element (zip line, V-swing, climbing tower, swing by choice, etc) as many as ten or twelve times and then training on each element for two or three participants before sending ourselves. It was very intense. I faced a number of fears, learned boundaries and restrictions (my own and those of the course), and grew to trust Adam, Shannon, Ali, and others I worked with and on whom I depended.

We also learned something I had never heard before about ropes courses. I cannot tell you how many times I heard Adam express some or all of the following statement to girls on the elements:
It's okay to be afraid. Fear is your body's normal and natural reaction to heights. The ropes course is a challenge by choice. So, you make the choice to push yourself to try new things even when it's scary. Or, you can make the choice to be lowered. If you keep going, you might like it, but you can come down if you don't want to keep going.
Camp's ropes course philosophy can be summed up in two mantras: Challenge by Choice and the Full Value Contract. It's your choice to be challenged and how far you want to go - we can lower you at almost any point. The Full Value Contract exists to make sure each participant is treated with fairness: each person gets the same opportunity.

In life, we don't always get to choose our challenges. But we are given a choice in how we react to them. And often, we are afraid. Unlike some believers who assume that all fear is bad, I think a certain level of fear is good. I'm afraid of going outside in the woods in the dark by myself. That is a healthy and good fear because it keeps me safe. We know that if God has called us to something, he will be with us and will protect us, and we don't need to be afraid, but fear is normal. We can also learn to overcome fear, as I eventually slid off the zipline platform like it was nothing by the time I had been on the zipline a thousand times.

I gave a morning watch devotional one morning about how God's got us, mentioning both the big storm we had the night before and the ropes course. Just like the ropes on the course can hold up to 5,000 pounds and the cables are the same strength used to hold up airplanes, God is not going to let me go. I used Psalm 91 as my key passage. Verses 9-10 read: "If you make the Lord your refuge, if you make the Most High your shelter, no evil will conquer you; no plague will come near your home."

I'm learning how to be a more adventurous person. I love adventure. Secretly, I love thrill-seeking, but don't tell my mom, haha. However, there is no way I could pursue the adventures I'm after, like Thailand, college graduation, life after college, moving to a new place, a new teaching job, a Masters?, a family?, etc., if I did not believe wholeheartedly that God's got me. And he will not let me go.

Friday, March 8, 2013

Twenty-One: Expectations vs. Reality

Maybe this is what twenty-one feels like. I thought to myself. A couple days ago, a few days before my birthday, I sat with two friends as we pondered and discussed housing arrangements for next semester... My last semester living on a campus as a college student. What. Then the conversation shifted to grad school. We want to look into a certain school together, maybe apply, see about living in that town. Hold on.

How am I this old? How am I planning for student teaching and Thailand and grad school and after college already? How am I already to the point of making my own budget, cooking my own meals, saving for that strange and crazy world after graduation? Graduation has always seemed like a far away pie in the sky. Something only for grown people, adults with plans and dreams and futures lined out. I don't even know what I'm eating for dinner most nights, how can I figure out my plans for the rest of my life?!?

Okay, deep breaths.

See, the thing is, I am not alone. No one else knows what they want to do. And even those who do will see their plans changed twice or thrice over during the course of their lives. It's okay to not have it figured out. It's okay to make mistakes. It's okay to make a weird choice and suffer the consequences. It's okay to budget wrong or spend too much and have to pay the "stupid tax," as my grandma calls it.

Because, you see, I am only human. Becoming an adult does not mean that you are somehow more than human. Adults make mistakes all the time.

So I guess it comes down to expectations verses reality. For example, I had once hoped that I would be in a dating relationship by my 21st birthday. Yet I always saw myself as a very independent and very single college graduate. I know things can happen between now and graduation (I've got a little over a year), but I've started to wonder if this really is the place where I will meet the guy God has for me. I wonder if we will start dating in college or sometime later.

When I had decided on a school for college, my mom's boss told her that the school I eventually chose is a great school, spiritually and academically. She told my mom that the reason this was important is that I will probably be meeting my future husband here. I agree with her in that typically you would find great guys at a great school, but it is frustrating to me when people assume that is why girls go to college. I am not going through four years of college to get my MRS degree. Come on now. I'm going through college so I can be equipped to teach for the rest of my life. I'm going to college for experiences I otherwise wouldn't have been able to have, things like living on a hall with thirty beautiful and crazy ladies in a building with almost ninety squealing freshmen girls. I'm going to college so I can have experiences like traveling to Hong Kong and Laos last summer to teach English and befriend students. I'm going to college, a Christian college, so I can learn how my faith interacts with and calls me to my career, how God works in the secular arena. All of those things can happen simultaneously with marriage, but the point is that marriage is not my focus in this.

Expectations verses reality... I didn't expect to get married right out of college, but a part of me did expect to date here. A part of me did expect certain relationships to be different. And yet looking back, I'm encouraged that God did not allow certain events (and allowed others instead). He knows what he's doing!

Another expectation verses reality is that I often expected that college would change me into a totally different person. In all honesty, I am different. I am much more likely to talk to people I don't know well, much more likely to share about my faith, much more likely to worship freely, and much less likely to worry as much as I did in high school. Yet, I am still the same person. I've dealt with a lot of crap and pain, but I am still dealing with it. I am very, very different, but I am still me. I am still an introvert, I am still a "J" personality, but I feel as if I am more well-rounded now.

Someone once told me that in college, we become over-exaggerated versions of ourselves. As we grow older, we mellow out. After college, we "slide into" the personas we discovered ourselves to be during college, and it gets toned down a bit. I think that is a great way of putting it.

Therefore, I'm becoming myself.

In all actuality, this is earth-shattering. See, I started this blog exactly 3 years ago today and named it "LosingMyself" because I wanted to focus on the fact that the purpose of life is not to go and do and "find" myself, but to lose myself in Him. I wonder if that is a correct way to look at it. I wonder if that is how I see life anymore. For example, I feel most alive when I am serving God in the capacities in which he's gifted me. I love teaching and I feel as if God has given me abilities to teach. This is becoming more Christ-like, through service, but it is also definitely becoming myself. What if becoming like Christ is really becoming who I was meant to be originally? As in, what if becoming like Christ is honing and developing the elements of me (and Christ in me) that are good?

I wrestle with this here because it is very intriguing to me. I have been facing up to who I am as I grow into me each day, and I wonder, yet again, if this is what twenty-one feels like. I still have two days, but I feel as if I'm getting much closer.

I wanted to share this blog post from December 2011. I had just finished Fall semester sophomore year when I composed this post referencing the acts of growing and serving in the season of singleness. I wrote:
...After this summer (spending five weeks in Asia [June-August 2012]), and my junior year..., what kind of person will emerge? A stronger, deeper, healthier, and more Christ-like person, that’s my prayer. I made a list a couple months ago of qualities I desired in my future husband, but also qualities that I would seek to reach as well. One such quality was the ability to attempt difficult things. Challenging things. Things like ministering overseas, but also things like becoming yourself.

I think too many of us are afraid of who really are, but like my psychology professor always says: “There must be a ‘me’ before there can be a ‘we’.” A Relevant Magazine article discusses the importance of singleness as it relates to your individuality: “Making the most of being single means being on your own. It’s just you and God. Being single is about discovering who you are, setting personal boundaries, knowing your likes and dislikes, your passions and the desires of your heart.”
I'm three-quarters of the way finished with my junior year, and I am so encouraged by the prediction I made at the end of 2011. I have become myself so much more during this time and I am grateful for that.

A final expectations versus reality moment: I did not expect to experience God as much I have since I've been in college. There was a time months ago when I specifically knew that God was speaking to me. I wrote about it in regards to going to Asia, "My heart skips a beat, my peripheral vision clouds over, I can’t breathe." It was definite. However, there was a long time in which that did not happen, and it hasn't happened recently, which led me to wonder if God was still speaking to me. Or is it just that I'm not listening?

My roommate challenged me to ask God for more of Himself, so I did. This past week, I had time with God each morning for five straight days, which I haven't done in a while. He also showed me some amazing things through not only that time with Him, but also the consistency of his love and his provision. For example, I have been yearning for a while for God to show me my new name. Our September spiritual emphasis week at college focused on our brokenness, and how God wants to come and sit with us there. At the end of the week, we were given the opportunity to take a small stone to remind us that God is giving us new names. A connection was made to the invitation Jewish people would give friends they were inviting to a wedding. In a sense, God is writing our new and true names on our invitations to eternity with him. I was reminded of Isaiah 62:4, as God is renaming Jerusalem. I was pondering this desire when my morning devotional was on Zephaniah chapter three. We are all familiar with verse 17, but I wanted to draw your attention to the remainder of the chapter (emphasis mine):
For the Lord your God is living among you.
He is a mighty savior.
He will take delight in you with gladness.
With his love, he will calm all your fears.
He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.
"I will gather you who mourn for the appointed festivals;
you will be disgraced no more.
And I will deal severely with all who have oppressed you.
I will save the weak and helpless ones;
I will bring together
those who were chased away.
I will give glory and fame to my former exiles,
wherever they have been mocked and shamed.
On that day I will gather you together
and bring you home again.
I will give you a good name, a name of distinction,
among all the nations of the earth,
as I restore your fortunes before their very eyes.
I, the Lord, have spoken!"

Maybe twenty-one will be about accepting who I am and who God made me to be: a single adult allowing God to change me and refine me to become more Christ-like and more me. And I'm okay with that.
In fact, it's a pretty exciting adventure. Let's do it.

Edited 3/25/13 at 9:54pm for labels.