Here's to You

Messiah College wasn’t my first choice, it wasn’t my second either.  Attending the school my father did, only fifteen minutes from my childhood home, was not on my list of plans, but then I visited just to see, and I haven’t wanted to leave ever since.  So here I am, four years later, a multitude of memories gathered and experiences shared, and I am told that I have to leave (because being a student forever is not economically responsible). I look back on this journey and I find it so bittersweet to leave the place I have learned to call home. 

            I remember the first night I arrived on campus, to that dorm room on the third floor of Witmer, as if it was yesterday. I can easily recall the walk from Hitchcock to Brubaker after saying goodbye to my parents, the nervous journey to Jordan/Kline with my peer group, and that first meeting on my floor.  If I had known then just how much my life would change, I may have been even more anxious than I was.  Instead, I giggled and joked my way through the first few days on campus, participating in everything I could and learning what it meant to live with others for the first time. That feeling of summer camp quickly faded though along with the warm summer weather. 

            Upon coming to Messiah I had a very naive view of what life would be like in a Christian College environment.  I was sure I would meet nice people, have the chance to live out my faith, and do a great deal of service.  What I never expected to find I did. My time here has been so much more than the things I once thought it would be.  Yes, I talked about the deeper life issues, I learned to struggle, to ask questions about my faith and to be pushed. After four years, I know I am who I have grown to be because I had professors, mentors, and advisers who cared enough about those questions to give me the space to answer them.

            Most of all, I found a place to belong.  Somewhere between August 28, 2008 and graduation, I realized that 1000 shared meals in lottie would make the best friends, that I would buy more Messiah tshirts than anyone needed, and that all that money and time I spent in the Union would make it more than just the student center by the time I left. Sometime between going to basketball games and actually having friends on the team, it came to matter and at some point Powerhouse was no longer just a weekly worship service; it was something I looked forward to. A chance to be alone with God while surrounded by my peers.

            People outside of the Messiah community would probably question my devotion to a place I came and went from for the last four years, but then again, those people don’t understand why I chose Messiah in the first place.  When I think about the people I have left I understand why this time is so bittersweet.  It finally makes sense why you have to take the goodbyes and the change in order to really appreciate what you ever had in the first place. 

            So here I am, having taken every last chance to make the most of my time.  I stayed up late, going on walks to the swinging bridge just because I could, visited Bakers more often than I should, and went to chapel consistently, because I understand that someday soon I wouldn't get the chance to do these things.  Yes, the people I have come to know and be loved by will still be a part of my life, of this I am completely sure, but never again will I have this experience.  My time at Messiah is such a shining example of why the college experience is not just about the academics, and the learning that happens is not always in the classroom. And it’s because of that I know I’ll be back.

The above photo is filled with the people who I will take with me everywhere I go because we all have people we could not imagine our lives without. These are some of mine.

If I had given a speech, if I had written something for the world to react to, or for our entire community to reflect upon, I bet it would be simple... "Hold tight to the ones you love and don't ever let go. Be the last to say goodbye, the first to initiate plans, and no matter what, be the friend you wish to have."

May 12, 2012. A week ago today, I graduated.

FINALLY part of me screams and yet, the other,
(a little more silent right now but just lingering under the surface), says "please don't forget about me"

For late night conversations… thank you.

For showing me what it means to be friends with a man again… thank you.

For long walks and talks about life… thank you.

For encouraging me to follow my dreams all the way to Indiana… thank you.

For loving me when I didn’t know how to love myself… thank you.

The people in this photo represent so much more than the good I will take with me from Messiah College, they represent all I learned about myself in the last four years. And yes, I am heartbroken to leave.  Even now typing this I know that I will see some of them in a week.  A few are on bikes riding back from the west coast and creating an adventure of their own. One is already married and others are going to be married by this time next year (some by this time in three months). One of them will be in Indiana with me (thank goodness!). A few live within twenty minutes, and others are over eight hours away.

While I write this, I cry. Not as much from sadness as from joy, because it will never be goodbye, not for us. This is just another “see you later” with maybe a bit more time in between our meeting.

So here’s to you. My beautiful, nurturing, impossible to forget friends. A week ago I held you and said I would miss you, and a week later, I know I always will.

Until we meet again…

The Year of Two 2's

People assume that as we get older, we also get wiser. That we do as Paul instructs and “throw off childish things,” things that hinder us, things that restrict and bind, the things that hold us back.  Sadly though, it seems that each year I find a number of things to keep me from breaking from the chains that keep me from living with freedom.

As I grow older the mistakes of the past are more daunting, the questions I have about the future are more apparent, and more and more the decisions I make weigh upon others…  

So here is to being 22 and living a life both glorifying to God and satisfying to my soul.

Hello to 2012 and to…

Traveling to Ireland

Graduating from Messiah College

Taking time for myself

Deciding on a grad school

Finding an apartment of my own

Writing because I find it life giving

Taking classes I am passionate about

Going on a road trip to Alaska

Saving my money

Working hard at my job

Blogging more

Encouraging others

Being the friend I want to have

Letting my inner creative being out

Doing the things I love, because I love them

Spending a week at the beach with my closest friends

Saying “no” when my heart is not in it

Accepting the invitation to go on that date…

More to come in 2012

A Little Leprechaun: Thirty People in 30 Days

For as long as I can remember, I've been keeping things. No, this is not a cry for a Horders intervention or Buried Alive. I keep things. For example, letters, cards, pictures that are outdated.  (I still have a frame in my bedroom from my 16th birthday with eight of my closest friends at the time. Needless to say, things change and many of us have lost touch.) But I keep it anyway. Maybe it reminds me of a simpler time when I didn't have to fill our loan information or even work forty hours a week.  Maybe it reminds me of the days when I had birthday parties at my home and felt special because I was older than everyone around me? 

Whatever the reason, I keep it. 

Although I'm not positive why I've kept some of the things in my room or in the shoebox underneath my bed, I am sure there is a reason I've kept one specific letter.  

There is a single white piece of paper.

It moves around with me.
From school to home and back again. 

And the words on that single sheet of paper, which is now looking a little ragged from all the times I've opened, refolded, stuffed it into some envelope, only to repeat the cycle not long after... the words on that paper are simple. Maybe 200 words max, but it is not the word count that keeps me coming back and reading it so often.  

There is something beautiful about the letter. It is the only letter he ever sent. The single sheet of paper he took the time to fill about four months into our friendship. You'd think someone in ministry might show love in other ways, and he does, all the time, but the strength of the letter came from knowing that the letter he sent was what I would receive best. 

So here I am. Getting ready to start a new year, with a new staff. People I already enjoy and find myself anxious to get to know and excited to learn from. Another year to get it right this time after feeling like I failed so miserably last year. And I pull out the letter...
"some people can't see themselves truly when they look in a mirror and they need another to tell them. Well Meredith, when I look at you, I see love. Everyday. Keep on loving Meredith, because you are so good at it."

Oh boy, I've been burned this past year. I've made some of the hardest decisions of my life. Done the right thing for myself and my relationship with the Lord when no one understood or supported it. And there that letter was. Just sitting there. Waiting silently for me to open it and allow it to speak volumes. 

and so I open it again, when I think I won't get it right
and I hear someone else say what is sometimes so difficult to remember...

"...you are so good at it."

Because my friends, that's what the people who love us do. They remind us how brillant and wonderful we are, when we can't it ourselves.

Abigail: Thirty People in 30 Days

Abigail.
She's beautiful. And I can say that in the most basic of ways. If you're a man, you want to be with her, if you're a woman, you want to look like her. She carries herself with confidence. She's the kind of beautiful that looks adorable even during a hike, the kind of beautiful that as her friend you say... REALLY!? And the kind of beautiful that if you're not her friend, if you don't know her story, you're jealous of. (Easy to understand.)

But the problem with her beauty is, if you stop there, and too many people have, you miss the bigger picture.
If you stop at the fact that she's twenty and stunning, you miss the things I've learned from her in the 8+ years that I've called her my friend.

Abby has always been a trend setter. She moved out of her Dad's house her second year of college and lives in Pittsburgh now and attends classes. She wants to be a doctor, or a nurse, or something else entirely? (whatever it is, she'll be great). She goes grocery shopping at this kinda creepy store over by the water, and drinks wine in her apartment late at night. Abby visits markets on Saturday afternoons and goes to music festivals. She doesn't make excuses, she is her own person, she lives without regret. She has big dreams, big plans, and she is going somewhere.

So, you're probably thinking after all of this that Abby has taught me that I want to live in the city, or live a little more free, but on the contrary. Abby has taught me that I am as grounded as they come. I want a house, with a white picket fence, in the middle of the country somewhere. Writing some book and volunteering at a women's shelter and baking cookies every afternoon. It is almost as if Abby is sowing my independent oats for me. The stories she tells, the memories she is making, they sound wonderful and exciting, and although I tried the city for a month and have visited her, I have learned that it's not me.

This is what I think she taught me most though, that people are more than they seem. People are the bits and pieces that others have left with them, the hurts they have been dealt, they blows that landed on them, the memories and scents and dreams that will never leave... you person you're talking to right now, the person you're about to send that email to, the cashier you're about to see at the store, they are more than they seem.

So while she is out making a name for herself and conquering the world, maybe I'll be the friend in her corner in the middle of some country town somewhere. Reading her blog and hearing her stories and cheering for her. Maybe that's what I can write my book about? All the things she taught me...

Carrie Foust: Thirty People in 30 Days

Carrie Foust.

"All the way my Savior leads me
Who have I to ask beside
How could I doubt His tender mercy
Who through life has been my guide..." 

My dear friends. I had no intention of writing this post today, no idea this post would ever take the tone it is about to take. Oh yes, this beautiful girl deserves more than a post in some unread blog. She deserves a crown of many jewels in Heaven, a beautiful red carpet, a song just for her... today she received one of those things. A very very large crown from our Heavenly Father.  This weekend Carrie's battle with cancer, Leukemia to be specific, came to a very tragic end. Although not sad in eternity's eyes. And I have no doubt that is exactly how Carrie would see it. My beautiful friend fought a very long and hard fight, but I have no better conclusion to draw other than that God needed another beautiful voice to worship at his throne. 

Let me tell you what Carrie taught me. 

As if fitting all the lessons her beautiful heart taught could fit into a blog post...

Carrie was that smile, the one that even on the worst days made you believe in something greater than yourself. Her mere presence helped you to find the joy in the simplest of things. Whether it was decorating a hall for a Christmas competition, celebrating with pizza parties, attending a basketball game and cheering on the other women who lives on her floor, bible studies, and tye-dye. Cancer... even that Carrie faced with this overwhelming sense of calm and faith that the Lord was in control. 

Carrie taught me what it meant to live out the verses in Jeremiah.  "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." The thing that a person really learns from Carrie is not the simplicity of a naive faith believing in these verses... no, Carrie understood what it meant to wander in the desert like the Israelites did for seventy years before Jeremiah ever had the inspiration to write such a verse. You see, she knew real pain, real trial, and real desperation and still she was the first to pray, the first to offer encouragement, and the first to ask how she could help... I have no doubt Carrie allowed God to work more through her short life in twenty years than some people allow him to do in their eighty. Carrie taught me about strength and about all things friendship. She continues to teach me still...

So Carrie, for you, I will be what you saw in the world. I will have hope, I will persevere, and I will never ever lose faith. Your death has brought me to my knees and as I petition God for answers, I know that even if I never get them in this life, I cannot wait until the day when we worship him together again. That day will come, and I look forward to hearing your beautiful voice on the other side. Heaven is blessed today. <3

"When clouds veil sun
And disaster comes
Oh, my soul
Oh, my soul
When waters rise
And hope takes flight
Oh, my soul
Oh, my soul
Oh, my soul
Ever faithful
Ever true
You I know
You never let go
You never let go
You never let go
You never let go..."