The Maiden Voyage of the Dutch Fury: The words I haven't said

Nana was my only grandparent. Clearly, I am biased, but I cannot imagine a better grandmother. She was a scrappy little red-headed woman; unforgivably sharp, hilariously clever, beautifully wise, and wondrously loving. These characteristics earned her the loving nickname "The Dutch Fury". January of 2016 brought me news that Nana had some health condition that would ultimately lead to her death. Since then, we've learned it was something under the umbrella "Parkinson Plus". We had no real trajectory of the condition, nor any specific prognosis, but we knew that Nana was, relatively, nearing the end of her life. Grieving began that night for me, though I didn't realize it. Do we ever "realize it" with grief?

Grieving the [expected] loss of a loved one was a new experience for me. I did what I do when I am stressed: withdrew from the world. In the first week after the news was shared, I read something like 2,500 pages. Escapism at it's finest. Reading consumed most of my day. Some days I'd hardly put clothes on, and others I would forget to eat. As the year got rolling, I found a job and began having things to do, so I had some structure and started living normally again. Throughout the year, Nana started to lose her ability to speak. Communication began to rely more on typing or writing. Eventually, Nana's motor skills deteriorated as well. Being out of town and thus removed from the situation, it was easy for me to ignore it. When I would go home to KC, however, and visit Nana, of course I would see the changes. Those visits tended to rock my world a little bit.

As the year went on, I got better about handling my visits with Nana. In actuality, I felt very isolated in my feelings. How bizarre that, while grieving for the same person for whom my whole family was grieving, I felt alone and like I couldn't share my experience. Whenever I had felt that way in life, Nana would receive my thoughts and feelings, enter into that isolation with me, and subtly coax me out of it. Nana being largely the source of those feelings, though, made me feel like talking to her wasn't an option. 

I did my best to function in life that year. Life started changing: I got a new job, my private voice studio tripled in size, I moved into a new home, and bought a car. I made it all the way to the fall of that year without facing my genuine feelings. One of my visits to KC, I almost left without going to see Nana. I had forgotten about it. Fortunately, someone accidentally reminded me. The realization that I had forgotten Nana was an awful feeling. So, naturally, I was emotional going into that visit with her, which turned out to be exactly what I needed. I walked in, saw her in her wheelchair, and started sobbing. She asked me the truest "Nana question" that there ever was: "What are you thinking?" As Nana and I typed back and forth to one another since she couldn't talk, and I was unable to at that moment (sobbing), I confessed that I missed her. Though she was still physically in my life, I felt like I had already lost her. That conversation is now one of my most cherished memories. She sat there, working hard to type to me, and comforted me. She drew me out of my isolation, loved me, and told me that it would be okay.

In October, Nana got to meet my best friend, Jasper; something she had wanted to do for a long time. In November, Nana got to come back home for Thanksgiving: I did all the cooking. The day after Thanksgiving, all of her children, and almost all of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren gathered for a reunion with Nana, knowing that it would likely be the last time some of us saw her. It was lovely. We looked at old slides from her years as a young parent, ate food, shared stories, and loved one another. At one point, I was sitting with Nana, encouraging my cousins to talk to her as normally as they would if she could verbally respond (it's a bit uncomfortable at first if you aren't used to it), and Nana reached over and grabbed my hand. Though she couldn't speak, I know what was said in that one gesture. It seems small and easy to us, but moving was difficult for her, and this was a smooth and direct motion with a firm squeeze. She expelled a good amount of energy for that. 

A few weeks later, on December 16th, Nana died. We knew it was coming, so I was able to go say good-bye and be with my family. I cannot express the gratitude I have for Nana. She raised me, she enabled me to pursue music through my life, taught me to cook and bake, demanded authenticity from me, encouraged me to be the best person I can be, and, most of all, she loved me relentlessly. Truly, I miss her every day.

Grief is a weird thing. I have not been able to write this post until now, whether out of fear of the emotion, or lack of understanding, or feelings of debilitating loneliness. The year 2016, and the early part of 2017, has been the most isolated time of my life. I firmly advocate genuine communication, honest appraisal of one's well-being and emotional state, and openness with our loved ones.  Yet, I have not done those things. Part of it is because I didn't know how. How do you share these feelings when you don't think anyone will get it? How do you add your own burden to someone else's? I don't know the answers, but I know that I'm tired of living like this. A life in isolation and confinement is hardly a life at all.

Nana has sailed across smooth, clear waters, into a new existence with Jesus. As Easter is near, a day when we celebrate Jesus' victory of death, it takes a new meaning for me. Nana is made whole once again. She is on a brand new journey in Heaven experiencing Life the way it was meant to be. As she left this earth, she got to rise up and go Home for the first time. She is made new.

Lay down your sweet and weary head

Night is falling; you’ve come to journey's end

Sleep now and dream of the ones who came before

They are calling from across the distant shore

Across the Sea a pale moon rises

The Ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn to silver glass

A light on the water, grey ships pass

Into the West

Ponderings of a Wandering Heart

Rarely am I unable to express my emotions. Now is one of those times, and as a result, I am here blogging. This post is not currently about anything; I simply feel the need to process through writing. 

July 8th brought with it the Grace Presbyterian Ignite Mission Trip, which I agreed to chaperone. To really give you a full picture of all of this, I should tell you that one and a half years ago, a youth made me promise to go on the trip his senior year. As I agreed, I included the contingency of "if I'm in town". This particular youth is one whom I have known since I first started working at Grace over five years ago. He plays in the band, and through that I have gotten to see him grow up and developed a close friendship with him. I am genuinely glad I got to be with him on this trip. However, I was not prepared for the emotional turmoil it would highlight, though I should not have been surprised.

Youth ministry is something with which I struggle. Leading Young Life for 5 years was great, my times working for Young Life have been fantastic, and the few youth lock-ins have been a blast. Upon my return from Oregon last October, the GPC youth director, Kirk, asked me to help with the new college student ministry. I agreed, though a touch reluctantly, so it started as me helping to drive for their college trip and evolved from there. I told Kirk many times that "I'm taking a break from youth ministry". In fact, I still tell him that I'm taking a break from youth ministry. He ignores me. One of the many things with which I have been blessed is an ability to establish really close relationships with students younger than me. The college kids are people whom I love, and this mission trip showed me how great our high school youth are as well. The caveat to this is that, like any good relationship, I learn things about each of them. Sometimes, I learn things that as a church staff person, or as a youth/college group leader, I don't want to know. Walking the line between close friend and mentor is something that, up to this point, I feel I've managed well. As kids get older and are faced with more decisions, I'm afraid that this balance becomes more difficult. Another difficult thing is seeing potential in them, and seeing potential that they are not meeting. 

Being as emotional as I am, my feelings are very much tied into the success of my "kids". When they make decisions I'd rather not see them make, I'm impacted emotionally. Now, I do not claim to have the perfect way of life. My path through life has worked for me, but it isn't the right path for everyone. But, I do believe in my ability to see damaging situations, or decisions that are not going to pan out well. When my kids make these decisions, it breaks my heart. They confide in me because I love them unconditionally (as much as I am able), and because, somehow, I have earned their trust. This is a situation that I never want to jeopardize. I cherish the authentic conversations about life, love, and all things that I have with these guys. Part of this is my heart's willingness, and almost need, to jump into the pit next to someone before I even know there is a pit. But I find myself, when they open up to me, taking their brokenness on as part of my own. The weight of their worlds gets added to the weight of my own. And I think Jesus designed me this way intentionally, yet I don't cope with it well, always. It overwhelms me. 

Last night I had the strong desire to not be a confidant for everyone. I didn't want to know things anymore, and I didn't want people to ask me for advice. The introvert in me, having spent 9 days with 30 other people, was suffering hard. My mother received a tear-filled phone call, during which I cried like I haven't cried in a long time. Part of this was very positive. The senior who invited me and I shared some really incredible moments, and I am changed because of it. I told my mom that I didn't understand why he loved me, or why I loved him, but we really do love each other. Part of it was frustration with watching students be led on, drunken videos being sent to our mission trippers from people in leadership roles after a really high moment on the trip, actions not following the words that were spoken to me, and seeing a student not meet the expectations I thought were made known to him (I've since learned that no one made the expectations known).

A lot of the conversation was wrestling with this idea of how to do ministry without wrecking myself, and if I should really pursue ministry. Ministry is something I feel very called to. Ministry is also something I want nothing to do with as a career. The conflict is real. This mission trip was full of people, unprompted, telling me they really think I should pursue ministry. They had no clue about my inner-struggle, and when they learned of it, they encouraged all the more. Do I listen to that? I don't know. Right now, I'm terrified that I am not strong enough for it. My fear is that I will live in a constant state of exhaustion. I don't doubt my ability to love my kids. I doubt my ability to maintain any separation. But, Jesus maintained no separation from us. But, I'm not Jesus. You see my struggle? I have no ability to limit my heart, nor do I want to. What I do want is to never feel like I felt last night. I never want to be so exhausted and overwhelmed that I can't think straight. I don't want to be in the position of knowing things that kids needed to express so that they can still be loved through it, but having those same things be things I feel strongly against, and should probably tell someone higher than me, all while knowing that telling someone would affect the kid negatively (positively?), and potentially be detrimental to our relationship, and my relationship with that person's friends. 

All I've ever known is how to love people. It seems to be the one thing I do well, consistently. But I'm scared. My heart hurts, and I'm tired. For now, I shall address conflict and hurt as I know to do, I will love my kids as those relationships turn to genuine friendships, I will always be truthful with those people, and I shall pray. But is that enough? Scripture says yes. I am not, do not want to be, and cannot be Jesus for these people. Only the Son of God can do that. However, sometimes I feel like only Jesus can actually do what I'm being asked to do. I'm sorry that I don't have an uplifting spin to end this with. Right now, my heart is full of love, questions, and hurt. And I don't know when I'll receive answers. Faith and Love can move mountains. Now I'm waiting for them to move me.

In darkness, Light

"The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned." Isaiah 9:2

Advent has arrived. Over the last four or five years, Advent's worth and meaning in my life has increased at a steady, rapid rate. In fact, Advent has become even more the focus of my excitement than Christmas day itself, at least the gift exchange part. Without the birth of Christ, Advent would lose its power, as it is the anticipation of said birth. Perhaps it is due to maturity, or more likely my employment at a church, but regardless I adore Advent. Each year I find such a peace of heart and mind during this season. Even when I was student and December meant the end of the semester rush and the chaos of finals week, this season felt calm. The church becomes my location of choice for more than the usual activities. I suspect that the juxtaposition of darkness coming so early in the day, and the church's light and warmth increases my attraction, add to that the wonderful adornments within the church such as wreaths, greenery, purple and silver decorations, and the large Christmas Tree in the Sanctuary, and you have my favorite place to be during this season.

Grace Presbyterian Church, my church, has become home and family for me ever since I began my work in the music ministry there in March of two-thousand eleven. The music ministry itself has taught me more than my awareness declared I needed. Most weeks I can be found on a piano bench aiding in rehearsals on Wednesday and Thursday nights for a couple hours, entering into a community of people sharing in the worship of God, while rehearsing so that others may enter into a deeper level of worship come Sunday morning. All people unfortunately have a certain relationship with darkness, and I am no exception. Darkness takes on many different roles so as to not leave anyone untouched. In the depths of my perceived despair, at any point, I find and have found solace at Grace Presbyterian. The church, a place which I avoided for a period of my life, has shown a brighter Light than any place ever has; Light filled with community, vulnerability, acceptance, encouragement, challenge, belief in me, and unconditional love. Tonight, our fearless leader shared words of remembering moments of our lives and glorifying God by honoring those memories. The memory that I suspect inspired her words is a tragic incident in her family the resulted in the loss of multiple loved ones far too soon. While that occurrence is six years in the past, I can only imagine that it must feel so fresh at each anniversary, and yet there she was using that memory to bring Glory to God the Father. She is finding Light in darkness, and in sharing that Light with others partners with them in driving out their own darkness. The Light shines in the darkness and the darkness will not overcome it.

Frequently, I am overcome with distress caused by the state of our world. So much hate, so much unrest, so much persecution. Why? Why do we drive ourselves into acts of cruelty and a life of pain? Whether it be rejecting refugees, attacking one another because of differing opinions and beliefs, or discrimination based upon race, class, and sexual orientation, it all causes further separation between people and breeds more hate. Hate cannot drive out hate. There must be Love. Darkness adores company in the way of fear. Genuine Love extinguishes fear. Lightness casts the darkness aside and shines evermore brightly.

This year will mark four years in a row that I will have sung either Comfort Ye and/or Every Valley from the Messiah. Preparations for my yearly contribution to worship have involved a new perspective on the text. The prophetic texts of Isaiah that comprise both pieces of music have become of my favorite. The idea of the entire world preparing for the birth of Jesus is incredible to me, and a little bit overwhelming. "Comfort Ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God. Speak thee comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, and her iniquity is pardoned." I see so much brokenness impacting my loved ones. A friend has health conditions that weigh heavily on him, even if he doesn't want me to see. Family members struggle to support one another and grow weary. When these kinds of things weigh on my heart, simple things like having best friends live across the country in either direction from me and not knowing when I will see them, hearing the hurts of people about whom I care dearly, and really small irritations start to disproportionately burden me. However, as we explore Advent, we are actually awaiting the birth of a King. He is a King that will right every wrong and lay our brokenness to rest. 

"For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace" Isaiah 9:6

Any time I feel darkness creeping in, I can hear the opening lines of Comfort Ye. "Comfort Ye, Sean. Your iniquity is pardoned. There is no darkness here, only Light, and darkness will not overcome it".

"Glaf Clops"

Thanksgiving has come and gone. Hours of preparation for a thirty minute meal surrounded by loved ones are always met with mixed feelings. I, for one, really love cooking, however I frequently find myself cooking arguably the largest meal of my year (Young Life Camp excluded) in a small kitchen that is relatively unfamiliar to me, which is less than desirable. This year was no different on that front, however I had a lot of help. This is the first year that I have been responsible for such a great amount of the meal, and it went really well. I coached my mother through prepping the turkey, I handled a bourbon pumpkin pie and a jello salad, and she aided me in creating two mashed potato dishes: one for gravy and one to stand alone. We had nine mouths to feed, and no one left any way close to hungry. All parties were thrilled with the food, and I think all our hearts were thankful for one another and the shared time.

My Aunt Teresa is famous for her ability to switch letters and syllables in spoken words (golf claps came out as glaf clops) and is thus the subject of much of our laughter as a family. She provides us with stories to share for years. Actually, we all have provided humorous antics. Each year the same stories are told, and we laugh just as hard, if not harder. We always play Catch Phrase, and this year we played the Game of Things which was most enjoyable. My cousin Joely is now seven years old and is getting to the point where she can really interact with all of us, and I think we all appreciate getting to see her develop and gain more of her own personality as kids do. She has energy and excitement almost all the time, and that can rub off on the rest of us. My mother and Aunt Teresa bonded with Joely well this year, I think. "Miss Mary Mack" was taught and repeated many, many, many times. And then repeated some more. I know all the words, and I certainly did not before.

I must confess that I have moments of extreme cynicism in regards to family. No family is perfect, and it is easy to believe your family is the worst, and I get stuck there. My family certainly has what sometimes seems like more than its fair share of discontent, but for this four day period, I believe we were largely able to look passed any issues and simply enjoy one another. I got to see my mother display a child-like joy that I have not seen in a long time as she played clapping games with her sister and niece. Uncle Tom and Aunt Mary were able to relax more and not worry as much about what their daughter might be doing. Aunt Teresa was there to field difficult questions for me and provide a listening ear. Nana sat, watched, directed the baking of rolls, and laughed. If you looked into her eyes, there was love and peace that she probably has not felt in a while as she manages the less wonderful parts of age and a weaker body. When I wasn't in the kitchen, I sat and watched a lot. Siblings can certainly lose sight of the good in one another as they face life, realize that they are vastly different, and see one another change. However, this Thanksgiving I am so thankful for clarity of vision in what is important and what is beautiful in family - my quirky, dysfunctional, broken, hilarious, loving family.

Along with family rides friendship in my heart. For whatever reason, this Thanksgiving equated with a trip into Sean's past. High school was not my favorite time of life. In fact, I loathed it, and thinking back to it isn't loved either. Those four years were pervaded by broken friendships, a keen lack of understanding of myself, and heartache. Of course there were good things, too, those are overwhelmed by the not-so-good it seems. I have apologized time and time again to people I hurt, and have forgiven people that have hurt me. However, forgiving myself is the most difficult task for me, and probably deserves it's own post or five... As I reflected on a few lost friendships last weekend and the beginning of this week, I had no idea what was awaiting me on Wednesday night. I literally faced a friendship which I assumed was long gone. It didn't end well in high school, at least I didn't handle the end of it well. What actually happened was that our needs changed. Tell that to an angsty, emotionally intense, seventeen years old Sean, and see how he takes it.

Josiah (the friend) and I saw each other randomly at a friend's house. There was no awkwardness (I let go of my hurt and anger over that friendship long ago), and we simply started talking and catching up between interruptions and distractions. We talked about music, literature, random stories and anecdotes, and laughed a lot. At the end of the night we were both getting ready to leave and the conversation led us to the point of no return: discussing our friendship. Neither of us seemed to avoid it, so in we jumped. Apologies were given and accepted, honesty was displayed, and genuine wishes to have done things differently were shared. At one point I told Josiah "I have thought a lot about what I would say to you.. Turns out that this was it". That was the truth, and it caught me off guard. Never had I actually thought this kind of conversation would happen, nor that we would ever simultaneously express the desire to re-enter each others' lives. Redemption. Reconciliation. My heart Rejoiced. No where in my being was I aware that this is what my heart needed, but it was. I had spent so much time looking at the ways I had messed up and hurt people, and I found myself believing that nothing would ever change that. Not one day later, I faced Truth. Truth that says that love, time, and genuine hearts can allow Redemption. Nothing is completely lost if there is real desire for change. There is no room for "glaf clops". No. My heart erupts with applause at the thought that, even after heartache and friendships dismissed, there can be Redemption, Reconciliation, and Rejoicing.

And there is much Thanksgiving for that.

My Declaration of Independence

“And by and by Christopher Robin came to an end of things, and he was silent, and he sat there, looking out over the world, just wishing it wouldn’t stop.“

I think I've been avoiding this post. Sitting here, reading that quote for the one-hundredth time, I am forced to admit my reality of being in Wichita with no set plan to return to Oregon. You see, A. A. Milne spoke that quote to me, a year after my first encounter with it, a brief two nights before I departed Oregon after spending almost half a year there. Five and a half months is quite the expanse of time, my friends. In fact, I challenge you to spend that much time in a place and not allow your heart to settle there. That was the most trying part, because in past experiences, I have only been long enough away to build really great relationships, but not feel like I had actually moveed, Does that make sense? I've always known where in my tenure I was. This time, however, there were enough pace changes and even season changes that my whole person settled as if it was a more permanent situation. In one way, that made it all the more worthwhile. I lost the sense of "I'm leaving" and gained the feeling of "this is life", so I dug into it more. In another way, it hurts. Unfortunately, I cannot work around that.

My most recent stint in OR was one of the most impacting periods of my life. Not only was I isolated in a desert, but I was also isolated in my job. There was no community handed to me. In fact, if I wanted it, I had to work to get it. Eventually, I did achieve a really wonderful community in my roommates and a couple other people, but it took a while to get there, and then even longer to really maintain. Murphy's Law would dictate that the community begins flourishing just as it is about to be disrupted, and Murphy was right. However, that is okay. My goal is not to discredit any of that community, as it was necessary for my survival, and it was wonderful. That being said, the lack of community that I mentioned influenced me just as much as the moments filled with community.

Before going to the Ranch last May, I was far more dependent on my friendships than I would have ever cared to admit. Furthermore, my identity was wrapped up in having friendships that looked the way I wanted them to look. So, I was put in a desert working my ass off in a job that didn't have tons of companionship (managing people, being managed, and only having one other person in your position who always worked opposite shifts of you), living with three guys whom I didn't know beforehand and hardly saw. Truthfully, I thought I would rely on older friendships to get me through, however communication is difficult out there. I've always prided myself on my communication abilities, but even the best laid plans go awry when exhaustion is so pervasive and you work harder than you knew you could. Because of these things, I learned to not only survive, but thrive independently. My reliance began to shift from those relationships upon which I leaned too heavily, to the relationship on which I don't lean enough.

Part of me wishes I could tell you that this season changed all of my habits, rid me of all of my sinful nature, got me doing daily devotionals with ease, and all other wonderful things that "true Christians" are supposed to have together. That would be a lie. What this season did accomplish was changing my view to see Christ in things that I otherwise would overlook. It allowed me to see Christ within my own heart and truly believe that my identity did not need friendships to exist. Do friendships aid in molding me to be this person I believe Christ wants me to be? Of course. Are friendships necessary in life? I believe so. However, they are not necessary for the reasons I thought. Friendships are there to sharpen us, teach us, love us, but not define us. This was knowledge that existed in my head but had never quite made it to my heart. Because of this new "heart-knowledge" my friendships prospered. Naturally I saw it in my friendships out in OR, and in the broader Pacific Northwest, but now I do see it in the relationships in which I'm investing here in Wichita.

Friendships in Wichita, and even my work in Wichita, have helped to smooth this transition. But all the smoothing in the world cannot prevent my heart from longing for what it knows exists in relationships all across the country. Interestingly, I had no tearful farewell. I say it is interesting because tearful departures are kind of in my blood. Even this quote didn't shake me enough to bring tears. However, as I was leaving the the state of Oregon, I heard the quote a little differently in my head: 

"And by and by, we have come to an end of the things, and we are silent, and we sit here, driving out into the world, and just wishing it wouldn't stop".

Truer words have ne'er been spoken. And as I meditated on that statement, I realized that in all of my readiness for change and home that I never wanted those relationships, that world which I was leaving, these adventures of travel, to ever, ever stop. And tears finally flowed.

My Friends of the Week

I have been awfully remiss in my blog posts over the last several months. Many times I have found myself wanting to collect my thoughts by writing, yet I never seem to make the time to do it. Hopefully, this will reignite the discipline in me to articulate myself more regularly. 

If you don't know or have forgotten, May brought my departure to Oregon for a brief five months to work at Young Life's Washington Family Ranch, much like it did last summer. While yes, I'm at the same location with some of the same people, the two summers could not be more different. Last summer taught me much about living in community, and the importance of community in my life. However, this summer has been the opposite. Over the last three months, my "knowledge" of friendship has been torn apart. Truthfully, I have somewhat prided myself, justified or not, in my ability to be a friend and my understanding of what friendships should look like. Now, I still hold true to my values in regards to healthy relationships and what those look like. That being said, I realized that I have been pigeon-holing my friendships. Friendship is the state of being friends. A friend is someone, generally outside of family or sexual relations, with whom one shares mutual affection. Thanks, dictionary.  "Open-ended" hardly begins to describe those definitions. So why have I always viewed it as a finite entity? What compelled me to view friendship in such constrained terms? I wish I had the answer, but I don't. Speculation would guess it was my insecurities and my desires to have my friends fulfill certain holes in my heart.

This summer has taught me to be content in the present. By that I mean not only the present time, but also physical present. Often my mind wanders to this place of comparison between the friends whom I am discovering, and the friends whom I have already known. In growing close to friends in one location, I have felt like I am doing a disservice to my friends from home or from another adventure. Because of this, I hold back. I hamper the amount I will invest and care because I am scared of growing close to someone new. Friendships are not mutually exclusive, it turns out. Nor does the definition of friendship limit the number of friends you may have. Many of us have heard that quote that says we only have two or three genuinely close friends at one time. The thing that people leave out is that those two or three friends may change as often as weekly. In trying this summer to invest in our high school volunteers (Work Crew), college volunteers (Summer Staff), and Interns, I have learned that I simply cannot handle all people at once. In fact, I am not supposed to do such a thing. For every person that I invest in and get to know, there are many others loving the people I cannot. And there is nothing wrong with that, which I say as much for my benefit as anyone else's.

Physical location has a lot of influence over with whom we are close. Simply, it is easier to be involved with those we see all the time. But, there will always be days where we need someone across a distance who has been with us for longer or knows a certain part of our lives better. Is it true that right now one of my closest friends is a soon-to-be senior who lives in Lake Oswego, OR? Yes. Today was our last day of spending almost every day together for twenty-one days. We chose to invest in one another and be parts of each other's lives. Wouldn't it be strange if he wasn't one of my closest friends? I think so. Does my close friendship with him, or anyone else out here, discredit any of my friendships back in the Midwest? Or from last summer? No. I am not betraying anyone by caring for and investing in another human being. Everyone, out of their inherent worth as a human, deserves to receive love and care. So, when Jesus places a high school student from Edmonds, WA, or a wild-man who tries to convince me to drop everything and travel around the world, in my path and on my heart, I say "party on". 

The hardest part in all of this is accepting that some friends are for a season, or multiple non-consecutive seasons. I have always wanted all of my friends to be constant and in one place. This, I have come to know, would cheapen all of them. If they were all with me all the time, how would I be able to invest in all of them? That would be a disservice. Allowing these friendships to exist separately is what allows me to love them all. The beauty of these friendships is that I can visit them when I need them, or when they need them.

"You will never be completely at home again, because part of your heart always will be elsewhere. That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place." 

Amen. And I would add that never being completely at home again is one of the most beautiful aches that I have ever known.

"Why don't you talk? I don't even know what you sound like."

The first redeeming quality of that treacherous is simple and takes far less writing than the others. Jasper and I couldn't be more different, and sometimes that is a bit intimidating. However, one of the things that we agree on is the need for quality time with a person. In expressing love, I much prefer touch and verbal communication, whereas Jasper would rather keep a three foot buffer around him with little to no invasion of that space. Jasper loves to show love through acts of service, which in turn I don't know how to receive. He also isn't terribly expressive verbally until it is really needed. But quality time we can come together on. And that trip to Pendleton, OR provided a great deal of that, as well as some leaning on one another for support and to keep spirits up. Whether it was driving in the car, walking around Wal-Mart, waiting for a miracle or a tow-truck, or spending the night in the hotel, we had plenty of quality time with each other. And let me tell you, when you see someone almost every day for 3.5 months, and then live 1,600 miles apart for 4 months, you really miss that physical presence in your life. 

Redeeming quality number two comes from a man whose name we do not know. We call him Scott because he looks like a Scott. Scott was the cook at the Rainbow Cafe. The place was set up in such a way that Jasper and I sat at a little bar and the kitchen was no more than five feet from our faces. We got to watch Scott cook and chat with him while we ate. It was really slow that night, so we got a lot of his attention. Scott is this older man, kinda rough around the edges, with white hair and a white beard, who is missing some of his teeth. Making small conversation, I asked if Scott had cooked all his life. Expecting a simple answer, what we received was so much better. He embarked on stories of going to culinary school, working at the Crater Lake Lodge and working his way up from making Omelettes to being the Sous Chef. We heard about the hierarchy of breakfast foods and what each post meant. He told us about getting to the Rainbow Cafe and how long he has been there and his highlights. He had a child tell him he made the best Reuben sandwich that she's had, and wrote him down in her list of Reubens.  He had a boy who had to be younger than 10 ask for crab cakes only to learn that they were out, and then he promptly changed his mind to a grilled cheese. I will say, writing these tidbits down, they don't have quite the impact that Jasper and I felt. That's because the importance was not in the information we acquired, but in the experience of having another human being share parts of his life with us. Scott exuded joy when telling his stories, and you could tell he delighted in sharing his experiences with us. Well, Scott, we certainly loved hearing them. If any of you find yourselves in Pendleton, OR you must go visit Scott at the Rainbow Cafe and eat some Pressure-Cooked Fried Chicken. He'll only be there for 3.5 more years, though, because he's retiring. Jasper and I want to go see him again sometime. It'd be well-worth it. 

Now the third experience is similar to our experience with Scott. However it was on a larger scale. We met Shawnie the receptionist at the Knight's Inn the night we checked in. She was the person who recommended Rainbow Cafe to us. That night I was over it all and was kind of joking and charming with great abandon. But hey, we got a sweet hotel room for pretty cheap. Anyway, that set the stage for our friendship. We chatted a little with her that night about whatever movie she was watching and about Pendleton. I didn't think much of it other than being friendly. The next morning, however, Shawnie was at the desk once again! Jasper and I had gone down to eat breakfast and ended up chatting with Shawnie for something like an hour and a half. Once again, we just made small talk about our room, the hotel, breakfast, the Rainbow Cafe. She asked us what we were doing in Pendleton and we told her. Simple things like that. Joking all throughout. She had a great sense of humor, and a boisterous laugh. It was just really fun to be around. At one point, she looked at Jasper and said "Why don't you talk? I don't even know what you sound like." Jasper replied something snarky about him being the brains and me being the mouthpiece (rude), and then proceeded to freak Shawnie out by talking in a British accent. She couldn't decide if he was American using a British Accent, or British using an America. Eventually she just said "yeah, I'm gonna need you to stop...". It was hilarious. 

Shawnie really told us a lot about her life. She told of her siblings, her mom, and what her life had looked like. It's a pretty cool redemption story. One of us asked her how she got to the Knight's Inn, and off she went. An hour later, we had heard about her perspective on taking charge of one's life. "if you're stuck somewhere, you might as well take advantage of the programs around you. Educate yourself, take yoga, learn to cook, so something! Your situations will only improve if you make them". We got to hear about learning to stand up for one's self, the importance of getting where you want to be - even if it means walking for miles in sweltering heat with your belongings on your back, the blessing of truly kind people, and her relationship with God. Shawnie has an appreciation for Life that I envy somewhat. She has come so far, and is moving up at the ol' Knights Inn in Pendleton, OR. I have hope for her. People like Shawnie just get it done, and are a light to those around them. 

People receive and show love through so many ways. Quality time is a commonality for Jasper and me. Apparently it works for Scott and Shawnie, too. There are few things I love more than a good story, and there are few things better than personal stories. I love listening to a person tell me about his or her life, and Jasper is better at listening than I am. We walked into the Knights Inn the night before wondering why we were stuck there, and pretty frustrated and saddened that we hadn't gotten to visit Justin. As corny as it may be, we left knowing that Pendleton, OR is exactly where we were supposed to be. 

I only hope that Scott and Shawnie got a fraction of what they gave us. 

Oh, the Places You'll Go: Pendleton, OR

I honestly had never heard of Pendleton, OR, so I obviously did not suspect that I would ever be staying the night there. But there I was, on a hotel bed with one Jasper Gerhardt on the other bed, trying to figure out what had just happened. What on earth was that day about?  Why were we stuck in Pendleton, OR instead of visiting Justin in Baker City? Why did the car break down while the two of us were driving it across central OR? Why was it on a Sunday when no mechanic shops were open? Why couldn't we have just gone a little further and meet Justin in La Grande? Why aren't I that upset?

I'm sure there were other questions. yet those are the ones that come to mind as I am writing this a couple days later. Now, I'll just get on with the story you all know is coming.

I've been in Oregon with Jasper since the 26th. The 27th, we got up and left the house at 7 a.m. to go see our friend Justin in Baker City. Probably about a four hour drive or so. Well, we were there was some snowy roads, so we were taking it easy, but still making decent time. After maybe 150 miles or so, the RPMs kept spazzing out on us, and lights were flashing on the dashboard. We pulled over, exploring various options. When Jasper opened the hood, I said "this ends my knowledge of how to fix the car". It's true. So, we poked around, Jasper called his parents, and we ended up checking the transmission fluid. There was zero fluid on the dipstick. Turns out we had a leak. That's okay, we will call triple A and get towed to Hermiston where it can't be that hard to fix. So, Jasper walked a ways down the highway to figure out where we were exactly, and the tow truck was on his way. Dave came to save the day, driving us to Hermiston with the car in tow. Only, then he gave us some tough news: All the mechanic shops in Hermiston are closed because it was Sunday.

Enter creative Sean and Jasper. We were dropped off in a mechanic's lot at First and Elm, right across the street from the Wal-Mart with very little hope. After some thinking, we thought we should check with Wal-Mart, so we walked over there and asked if they thought they could help us even though it was out of the realm of "lube and tire" service. They said yes, and hope was kindled once again! We just had to get the car across the street to Wal-Mart. Calling Triple A was a possibility, but did we do that? Of course not. It's just one major street that only takes 11.45 seconds to walk across so surely we can simply push the car across the street. We were poised and ready to do so. I mean, we had the timing of the lights down, we knew approximately how long it would take us, I was prepared to push like I'd never pushed before, and then a truck stops and offers to help. Turns out the guy is a mechanic of sorts, and he quickly assessed the issue: There was a cut in one of the transmission hoses. Wal-Mart could no longer help us. We were a little put out. We called Jasper's mom and she told us we probably needed to get a hotel in Hermiston for the night. Neither of us had any desire to do that. There's no way that our epic trip to visit Justin could end this way.

After trying to think in the car, I suggested we find wifi so I could be somewhat helpful in finding a hotel at least. Eventually, we walked into a starbucks, dejected, and went to work. However, I then thought of searching for mechanics is nearby towns and things like that. No luck. Back to hotels. However, once again determined not to be bested, we discovered the brilliant plan of getting towed to La Grande, and having Justin meet us. The game was on. We called triple A, it was all set, and then they asked our location. I told them we were in the parking lot of a mechanic's shop in Hermiston, and they told us they couldn't tow us. "We can't tow out of a mechanic's shop." "even if I haven't had any correspondence with the mechanic?" "Yeah, we would need some kind of verification" "Can you tow me if I get the car out of this parking lot?" "Yes" "okay, I'll call back". So I jumped out, Jasper steered, and we pushed that car about 500 feet into the next parking lot over, called back, they said someone would do it, and we were set. We went to Subway with a spring in our steps, ate lunch, got a call from triple A saying it would be 2.5 hours until they got to us but that was okay because we were going to Justin! We decided to walk back to the car after eating and after approximately 45 minutes had passed. As we were preparing to cross the street, our buddy Dave from D & R towing in Hermiston was already there getting the car ready to go! We climbed (literally climbed) into the cab and waited for the same driver as before to climb in with us. Off we went in good spirits and a little bit of excitement! Until Dave the driver told us that we might not be able to get through the pass to La Grande, but he would investigate. Investigation occurred, and he determined that it would not be wise, so he took us as far as Pendleton, and left us there.

At this point in the story, I think neither Jasper nor I had any care left. We were just accepting of our circumstances and doing whatever we could to make it through. We googled hotels nearby, settled on the Knight's Inn and walked about a mile in pretty good spirits. I think we were just happy to have a conclusion for the day and to be done trying. We ate dinner at the Rainbow Cafe and called it a night.

The next day, Jasper got up early and went down to the mechanic shop to find out that they could get us in early. They proceeded to do so, and then we were on our way back to Madras. Because this post is getting lengthy, I'm going to write a second one about the redeeming qualities of this trip. Jasper and I have had some really cool experiences together, this trip is actually among them. 

Abba's Child

I've been reading this book "Abba's Child" by Brennan Manning. I've had the book for years, tried to read it from time to time, and finally committed to it this summer. I don't read it often, largely because it takes me a bit to process the content. Sometimes I can read a page or two and have to put it down, while other times I can read a full chapter or two. This book has taught me to look at some things from a new perspective, challenged me, and confirmed some ideas that I've felt in my heart, but never verbalized. I want to share a couple passages. The chapter comparing the inner pharisee in us who carefully calculates all his actions, is judgmental, puts on face in order to filter what the world sees, tries to hold others to the standard of the law, etc. The child is honest, open, and simply exists. There is not facade. There is only genuine sincerity in all he does and feels.

"The child spontaneously expresses emotions; the pharisee carefully represses them...John Powell once said with sadness that as an epitaph for his parents' tombstone he would have been compelled to write: "Here lie two people who never knew one another." His father could never share his feelings, so his mother never got to know him. To open yourself to another person, to stop lying about your loneliness and your fears, to be honest about your affections, and to tell others how much they mean to you -- this openness is the triumph of the child over the pharisee and a sign of the dynamic presence of the Holy Spirit. "Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom" (2 Corinthians 3:17)

To ignore, repress, or dismiss our feelings is to fail to listen to the stirrings of the Spirit within our emotional life....

Emotions are our most direct reaction to our perception of ourselves and the world around us. Whether positive or negative, feelings put us in touch with our true selves. They are neither good nor bad: They are simply the truth of what is going on within us. What we do with our feelings will determine whether we live lives of honesty or of deceit. When submitted to the discretion of a faith-formed intellect, our emotions serve as trustworthy beacons for appropriate action or inaction. The denial, displacement, and repression of feelings thwarts self-intimacy."

I just love these passages. I read them for the first time, almost dropped the book, and had to re-read them a couple times. These passages articulated my heart. I've always been a hot mess of emotion, and I've apologized for that thinking I shouldn't be that way. However, in the last couple of years I have believed that we feel things for a reason. There isn't any connotation there, it is simply how we are reacting, and that reaction must be experienced. I love it. And when you are comfortable enough to share these inner longings of your heart, or the way your heart hurts or loves or feels, genuine friendship can be attained. It's an incredible experience. I've been fortunate enough to experience that mutual trust and honesty with friends, and I'm better for it. There are times when it is the scariest, hardest thing that you have ever done, but I promise it is worth it. 

Over the summer, Jasper (my best friend at the ranch) ran into emotional Sean a lot. He would worry, but I'd just tell him "Jasper, I have to feel this out. Yes, I'm mad. Let me be mad. I won't be mad for long, but I have to experience the emotion." Eventually Jasper and I got to a place where he knew. He knew when to hug me, he knew when to let me blow of steam, and he knew when to push me to open up. Because of that trust, I was able to tell him when something had hurt me that was related to him, and we were able to move through it. And then he shared the same things. I could share my insecurities with him, and he could share his troubles with me. That kind of friendship lends itself to complete comfort with one another, and just the highest quality of relationship. I want everyone to know that. I know that insecurity can be debilitating, and the most terrifying thing. My prayer is that each person knows this genuine love and friendship with at least one other. You will be happier for it, I guarantee. 

The Return "Home"

This is something I feel I have been avoiding. The reasoning behind that is uncertain to me, so I have no clue how I might explain it in writing. Even as this page loaded and I saw the blank space before me, waiting to be filled with me thoughts, I was overcome with a strong emotion, the likes of which I can't explain (I'm sensing a theme). I think I have probably been in denial about my return home. While yes, I have physically been here, and mentally, my heart is still back in Oregon. Facing that is difficult for me, and isn't something that I particularly want to do. I've know this is the case, but I haven't actually processed it. All things in due time, I suppose.

My experiences out at Washington Family Ranch absolutely changed my life. I learned the capacity of my heart, the humanness of emotion, and the limitations of Sean. Friendships blossomed, my heart healed, my will was challenged, and my faith grew. My heart broke at least four times, I felt so alone, and I experienced frustration and defeat to a degree that I have never before seen. People loved me more than I thought they could, and I loved them. Multiple families took me in faster than I thought possible. Oh, and I also cooked meals for five hundred people daily, led a crew of volunteers, and ran a kitchen. Then I drove back half-way across the country with a dear, dear friend, slept in a miserably hot hotel room, visited a college, saw old friends, and returned to Wichita. 

Before I went to Oregon, I absolutely called Wichita "home". However, now it feels strange. "Home" cannot possibly feel like what I've been feeling. Now, this isn't to say that I haven't been happy. I have been thrilled to see everyone, work with them, live with them, etc, but how can this be home when my heart is in the Pacific Northwest? How am I to love all these people with whom I didn't speak for 3.5 months? I feel so "out of the loop". So much can change in that length of time, and so much did change in that length of time. I know that while I was growing and changing, so were my friends. Explaining the differences in me seems an impossible task, and understanding the changes in my friends - how their experiences shaped them this summer when I wasn't here to experience with them - seems to be the same. Right now, Antelope, OR with some of my best friends in the world feels way more like home than Wichita does. I've absolutely been scared to face this. Writing it down means I'm processing it, and that is what I have been running to avoid. I don't want to realize how much my heart aches. I don't want to long for that place and those people. I don't want to have to get to know my best friends here in Wichita all over again, but that's almost what it seems like I have to do. I don't want to observe the grief of a broken heart that is simultaneously filled with joy of a return to a once-loved place.

More than anything, I want to be back in that God-forsaken bunk-bed having Pillow Talk with Justin and Swan, or listening to Jasper recite poetry to us. I want to play piano with Jasper. I want to quote Madea with Tayler while doing our best to feed so many people. I want to lean on Justin when my heart hurts. I want to stay up late talking about life with Kristin. I want Emily to yell my name across the kitchen in the way only she ever did. I want to hear Coleen's and Becca's hearts and have them hear mine. I want to work for ten hours in a kitchen with college kids I've never met but love dearly. I want to be present in Wichita. I want to practice diligently and continue learning to sing. I want to serve the students I accompany well. I want to love my best friends. I want to dive into community with my roommates. I want to help lead a music ministry at church. But man, this is difficult. I feel like I'm putting on face, but I don't know how to not. I told a dear friend "sometimes getting through is all you can do. It doesn't have to look pretty, in fact it probably won't, but at least you got through it". Well, time to eat my own words. I have to get through and know that this, too, shall pass. There's reasoning behind all of it. 

This summer changed my life. I want to go back, and hopefully I will be back there at some point. But for now I need to be "home". I'm blessed by a great community of people here in Wichita. I have a mentor, I have three roommates who keep me on my toes, jobs that I love, a great voice teacher, wonderful friends, a loving family near by, a piano, a guitar, a church, and so many things beyond these. We just have to get to know each other again. I'm different, all those things are different, so it's time to own that, dive into differences, and see how they compliment each other. I know they will. I trust that Jesus has His hand on all of it. I just have to choose to see it.

Week 1 of Summer Camp

Summer camping is in full swing! We closed our first week of camp today. So, with that comes our long-term volunteers!! I have four summer staffers on the PM shift. I love them so stinkin' much. Truly. They are incredible. Their names are Rachel, Lindsay, Corey, and Joel.

Rachel is a super sweet person who is really easily overwhelmed. She isn't sure she can't handle anything, but she really can. She's intelligent, a good worker, and just sincere. The strangest things make her laugh, which in turn makes me laugh. Lindsay is a champ. She's a really hard worker, she's quick and very thorough. She's the baby, having just graduated high school. Her laugh is really loud and infectious. I know that I can count on her for any job and she isn't afraid to get her hands dirty. Corey is a really interesting person. He had a stroke when he was 9 months old, and so he has limited use of his right hand. Fortunately, he has a good work ethic and makes up for it. It isn't something I even notice half the time. I frequently tell him he's a sassafras because of all that sass. He's hilarious, though. It isn't the blatant sass. He just has really sassy facial expressions. We laugh a lot because of Corey. Then there's Joel. Joel has a sweet, sincere heart that really shows....when he isn't flirting with all the girls. And he is fast in the kitchen. Man. I know I can give him a job and have it done quickly and done well. He has already started telling me bits and pieces about his life, and I love getting to know him. He's really touchy. I can always count on at least five hugs per shift from Joel. We have a good time. He's my grill-buddy for grilling pineapple. I really love them all so much already. If any of them needed something, I would go running. Truly.

As the PM intern, my days start around 10:30 or 11. I get done anywhere from 8:30 to 11:30. There are some 12 hour days, but at the end of the day I am always in a good mood. My crew and I close each day out with some highlights and areas of improvement, followed by praying. It's just great to do that with each other. I love that time with them. My one responsibility as far as the food goes is dinner. I'm in charge of all dinners. If the AM shift needs help with lunch, we'll jump in and help them with that as soon as we get in there, but if not then we just start on dinner.

Day 1: Tri-tip beef, Garlic Mashed Potatoes, Salad, Rolls, and Dirt'n'Worms for dessert
Day 2: Spaghetti with meat sauce, Caesar salad, garlic bread sticks, and Trainwreck (big brownie fresh out of the oven with ice cream on top) for dessert
Day 3: Enchiladas, Santa Fe salad, Cilantro Lime Rice, Mexican Chocolate cupcakes for dessert
Day 4: Luau dinner! Polynesian Pulled Pork, Coconut Rice, Mango Salsa, Rolls, Mandarin Orange Salad, and Pineapple Coconut cake for dessert.
Day 5: It varies. We don't have campers, so I'm just cooking for the Volunteer Team.

That's all I have for now. I don't spend tons of the time with the interns right now. We are all busy with our jobs, and my job keeps me late. But it's good. It just makes me cherish the time with them that I do get.

P.S. The Camp Musician can SING. Her name is Claire Beck. Man. She's awesome.

Community

This place, and these people, have stolen my heart. I feel kind of silly having grown to love this all so much in such a short time, but it is the state of things. 

I've worked two weekends in the kitchen thus far. Weekends are the important parts, as that is when we have groups in camp during the off-season. The first weekend I had only two work crew beneath me, and they captured my affection, too. That was such a difficult weekend. We had SO MUCH work to do and not the hands to do it. My other interns saved me on a couple different occasions. I am so blessed by my team. Truly. Anyway, the work was hard, but we pulled it off. This last weekend, I had five people on my shift, and not enough work. It was awesome. It was pretty low-key, and we were able to just enjoy what we were doing rather than run frantically around. 

This intern community is still wonderful. We continue to grow closer each day. We have an awesome group of guys. Three of us are pretty affectionate people. As Jasper, one of the kitchen interns, put it "I had know idea guys were so touchy-feely until I met you, Swan, and Justin". It's a lot of fun. Though three of us are similar in that aspect, we are all so different, and I think that's why it works. Jasper and I have gotten to know each other especially well. We work together, so that helps. Plus, I'm not afraid to dig around and ask questions. He isn't the most forthright with information, but if you ask the right questions then he will get talking. It's cool to hear glimpses of the lives of the interns. I'm able to understand them so much more and it helps me figure out how to best love them, ya know? Jasper told me that he hasn't met someone who is so interested in knowing people the way that I want to know people. I took it as a compliment. 

Justin is also one with whom I have bonded well. We are like-hearted individuals. He is going through some stuff right now that hits home with me. It's wonderful to have each other to bounce ideas off of and discuss what we are going through.

I'm just so excited for this summer as it continues. I'm excited for more adventures with the interns. We went to one of the highest places on property for sunset one night. Today three of us drove to Bend, OR for some bro-time and to buy some things that we needed. Two hours of driving one way lends itself to getting to know each other really well. There are lots of shenanigans around the ranch, as well, specifically in the intern housing. Jasper takes a lot of crap from Swan and Justin. They all three take turns telling each other bedtime stories, hahaha. It's hilarious. I'm just grateful for this opportunity to love one another and learn to be vulnerable. It's something that I sometimes struggle with, but it just gets easier.

Sunset from the Firetower

Lastly, I'd be okay with seeing my best friends from home. I don't miss home, and I'm beyond happy here, but it'd be cool if I could have the best of both worlds. Is that just too much to ask? I suppose so. I'll take what I can get :-) There's a plan in all of this. Of that I am confident.

This is My Domain

I believe that the kitchen is one of the holiest places at camp. When I walk in there, I just feel it. I absolutely love what I get to do in that place. It's hard work, and no one in his right mind wants to do that work, but for whatever reason, there isn't a place that I would rather be. In the kitchen, you are forced to rely on one another. One person, two people, even four people, cannot feed 500 campers three times a day, at least not well. We have to ask for help, and look for ways to serve each other. When you get passed any pride around that, and just allow yourself to serve and be served, the community that builds around that is remarkable. I learned so much about that at Malibu last summer. That experience really taught me so much, and is largely the reason that I'm here now.

This morning I set foot into the kitchen for the first time. The other interns saw how I visibly changed. I just got so excited! All I want to do is get in there and work with my summer staff! One of the interns, Emily, said to me "I love to see how much you love it here. You know this is where you're supposed to be, and that's awesome." I hadn't thought about it, but she is right. It is where I'm supposed to be, and I feel that in my bones. We, in the kitchen, have the unique opportunity to serve literally every person on this property multiple times per day. Everyone has to eat, and we provide those meals for them. We are behind the scenes, and it is certainly not the most glorifying job, but it can be so gratifying. Knowing that a meal has gone well, that everyone is fed, and that we prepared delicious, filling food is the best. The cheers when the meal comes out, and knowing that those campers are thrilled to be eating is awesome. I know it isn't so much about us as the food itself, but hey. Just knowing that we have helped to provide that joy grants me so much happiness.

We didn't do much cooking today. We just cleaned, sorted, folded, and prepared ourselves for the time to come. Eventually, we did go to the other camp here and help them in the kitchen. They have guests currently in the off-season, and were short-handed. Jasper, Emily, and Tayler are the names of the other interns. If you're a believer in prayer, prayers for us would be amazing. If not, thoughts will do just fine. I think we have a great group. Though I haven't worked with Tayler yet, she seems wonderful. I pray that we lead well, and know when to follow. The community that will exist among the four of us will be unique. None of us work the same shift, but we all help each other and rely on each other. Tayler and I will overlap for a few hours a day. Jasper will float around between shifts, depending on the need. Emily is overseeing the dining hall. Without one of us, the meals won't happen. We are four parts of a whole that cannot function with just three. It's exciting. Our bosses are great, as well. Though, I haven't met one of them. I've heard good things.

The intern group as a whole is still awesome. We had some really great time last night around a bonfire sharing bits of our lives and our hopes for the summer with one another. And who can be mad at s'mores? This was after a day of scaling a mountain, visiting some beautiful landmarks called the painted hills, and overwhelming a small-town restaurant.

The view from Mt. Wagner.

The Painted Hills

By the way, I didn't realize how much of a Kansan I was until I was in an old Toyota truck driving up the side of a mountain at a grade that made me feel like I was going to flip over backwards. Terrifying. But the view from the top was incredible. I thought I might make it 24 hours before being taken completely out of my comfort zone, but that was not the case. I'm glad I had that experience, though. The interns now have things to laugh at me over.

All good things here. Who knows what tomorrow will bring, but I'll be back in my domain. Here's to Shenanigans that bring glory to God, and encourage relationships.

I want to see mountains again, Gandalf, mountains...

Well, I made it. If you don't know, I'm working at a Young Life camp in Antelope, OR this summer until August 31st. I'll be in the kitchen on the PM shift, praise the Lord. Truly. I wouldn't make it if I was on the AM. 

When I was offered the position, I accepted immediately and decided then that I would drive to Oregon. Why? I don't know. But that was my decision, and I stuck to that. If you have the ability and the opportunity to drive halfway across the country, do it. It's harder than you could imagine, and way more exciting than I thought it would be. I drove around 1,700 miles in the last three days. The first day I drove from Wichita to Ft. Collins, CO. I've done that drive multiple times, so it wasn't much of anything to me. I got to spend the night with Zach from Work Crew. We've been friends for four years. Crazy. So good to catch up with him.

The next day, I was driving from Ft. Collins to Boise, ID where I would be staying with a friend from Summer Staff at Malibu. That was the long day; it was about a 10.5 hour drive. I wasn't quite looking forward to it. However, once I started driving and I caught glimpse of those foothills and mountains (I drove in the day before in the dark) I started grinning, and I don't think I stopped for two hours. I love the mountains, so much. I don't know what it is about them, but they just captivate me. Driving to Boise, I stopped in Twin Falls, ID. I was planning on grabbing some dinner and killing a little time before coordinating with my friend in Boise. However, I crossed a beautiful canyon with the Snake River running through it... So, I got out at the scenic overhang. Then I read the map and noticed that there were two waterfalls nearby. With some crafty GPS-ing, and some questionably legal, semi-off-roading, I found a spot to take a picture of them. It was awesome. Well-worth it. It's hard for me to not be in awe when I see such wonderful creation, and know that the Creator of all of that is a god that loves us more than that gorgeous scene. 

Today I jumped in my car again and drove to the camp. Don't listen to your GPS when it takes you off the highways. I was on some kind of county road that was NOT intended for my Pontiac Grand Am for about 50 miles, and it took me about an hour and a half. Then the GPS abandoned me, so I was grateful for my map of Oregon. It was the sketchiest thing I think I have ever done. I will not be doing that again ever. So stressful. A cow tried to headbutt my car, I thought I was going to slip off the road and go careening down the mountain... It was just a rough time. 

But now I'm here. This place is stunning. The interns that are here already... woof. I'm already quite fond of them, and we hardly know each other. "Excited" doesn't begin to explain how I feel about this summer, the community that will exist here, the kids that will come through those gates, and the lives that will be changed - including my own. 

P.S. Forgive any typos. I'm exhausted and don't care to proofread this.

There and Back Again. And There Again. And Back... Again.

My car and I traveled 2,023 miles over spring break. We drove to Overland Park, KS; Wheaton, IL; Evanston, IL; St. Charles, IL; Overland Park KS; Wichita, KS; Tulsa, OK; Wichita, KS; Emporia, KS; and finally Wichita, KS. Plus any amount of driving within each of those cities.

Besides driving, I got to spend time with old friends, visit a potential grad school and take a voice lesson with a teacher I have the most respect for, meet a friend's family and fall in love with them, spend some time with God, hang out with Mom; and participate in and promptly lose a voice competition.

The voice lesson with Karen Brunssen was wonderful. I walked in, we chatted for a bit, and then started singing. Allow me to summarize what I heard from her: "Fix this. Nope. Pure vowels. You sound like a hick from Kansas. Nope. Your inner muscles don't work enough. NOPE. Sing through this straw. Still nope. A!!! How many times do I have to say nope? Resonance. Higher hump of the tongue. That was okay. I lied; nope. That's all the time we have. I really loved working with you. Seriously, I thoroughly enjoyed it. You have a great voice, and you are scholarship material anywhere you apply"............ Huh? I just got my butt handed to me, thought you hated me, and I'm scholarship material? Whatever. I'll take what I can get. Truly, the last time I had an experience like that was my first lesson with Dr. Crum. "Oh, I remember you; you don't know how to breathe. Let's go." and then the dialogue was quite similar. But, hey. At least I have new things to work on. It's always helpful to get a fresh perspective. It was awesome. Exhausting, but awesome.

The competition was fine. I sang my face off, and was really proud of what I accomplished in that hall. But, I wasn't what they were looking for. Is that disappointing? Definitely. Am I okay with it? Yup. Mom and I had an excuse to eat great food and drink beer before heading home. And it freed up the rest of my weekend, which was MOST welcome.

I got to visit Jacob and his family over break. It was the most fun. I love that family. Getting to meet those people that I literally felt like I already knew was a blast. Jacob talks about them a lot, and I love hearing about them. Now I can really experience those stories. I can't articulate how much I enjoyed it. I also got to know Jacob better, which is a blast. He's one of my best friends, and getting to know each other more is key to growing that friendship even more. You learn a ton when you see someone around his family. I just feel privileged that he wanted me to meet them and that he gave up some of his break away from school to hang out with me. It meant a lot. I'm glad it worked out.

Jacob and I have a lot in common, and I appreciate his friendship immensely. I can't really say much else. He's a really caring guy, and has a genuine desire to understand aspects of my life to which he can't really relate. It's a unique quality. A lot of people disregard or run from things they don't grasp, but Jacob tries. And that's awesome. I love the way he cares for people, and for me. He's just pretty awesome. Okay. Gross friendship stuff over.

It is amazing how God works things out. I have a not-so-great dad. My three best friends (guys) have great relationships with their respective fathers. Lately, I've been wondering how I'll manage to be a dad when the time comes when I haven't had a great example. In fact, I haven't really had any male role models in my life until recent years. God has taken that worry and kind of turned it upside-down. I have a group of men at Grace Presbyterian that care about me and show me what being a man of Christ is like. I see how my friends interact with their dads, and I love it. I'm sure that God planned on my going to visit the Groths and seeing that family. I truthfully learned a ton just from my short visit. They're a really awesome group of people. I just smile thinking about them. God has given me so many examples of families focused on Him. I'm not saying that God wasn't a part of my family, because He certainly was. It's just different. The relationship between a son and his father is an integral one, I believe. And sometimes overcoming the lack of that can be difficult, but the Lord will always provide you with the tools.

My time driving was spent listening to music, and talking with God. It was my time to reflect on the community I witnessed at Wheaton College. I got to process my experience with the Groths. I got to commit my lesson to memory. I highly recommend driving by yourself over long distances just to talk to God. It's awesome. My biggest epiphanies have occurred on I-70 in western Kansas. Although I didn't drive across western Kansas, I still got some quality thinking and listening in. I will say, though, that driving across Iowa will really test you and teach you to rely on God. No joke. It was awful.

If you get the opportunity to drive across the country, take it. You learn a lot about yourself. I can't believe that I'm going to drive from Wichita, KS to Antelope, OR this summer. And back. Aaron, if you read this, you always joke about flying out and driving back with me. Feel free. Talk about some Shenanigans.

Just a Little Light

There are some people that simply bring light to my life, and I am truly grateful for them. Sam is one of them. She never hesitates to speak her mind or to tell me exactly how it is. That goes for the good and the bad. I'll tell her about a friendship, or about working with someone, and she will say "Sean. They are treating you like crap. You don't need that." I sometimes hear it a little begrudgingly, because it sometimes sucks to admit friends don't treat you well. She will also tell me if she thinks I'm overreacting or reading too much into something. She knows me well and knows that it's okay to deliver things bluntly. She knows that's the only way I'll hear it. However, I know that Sam only has my heart in mind. She's always looking out for me. The flip side of that is that I always know where I stand with Sam. She is never hesitant to tell me that she loves me. She makes obvious efforts to hang out with me and to be a part of my life. I know that Sam is one of the key people that gets me through life. Truly. 

Jacob is also quite the light for me right now. Hanging out with him is just fun. We play video games, or talk, or shop for office supplies. There's usually food involved, as well as laughter. Lots and lots of laughter. Sometimes we literally just laugh, and then laugh at each other's laugh, and then laugh some more. Jacob makes efforts to spend time with me, and I do the same for him. Lately, Jacob and I have been in situations where we have really gotten to know each other much better. We've gotten to hear about parts of life that we might not normally hear about. We've gotten to deal with some crappy situations as well. It's been solid to have him there to lean on, as well as let him lean some. At one point, he said "Sean, it's kind of tearing my up inside". I responded "YOU FEEL THAT WAY, TOO?!?! Oh thank goodness I'm not the only one!", and that's all I needed. Sometimes just having someone feel the same way as you is all you need. And sometimes knowing that you are cared about gets you through the toughest situations.

I get to talk a lot about faith with both Sam and Jacob. It's an imperative part of our friendships. Between that and the way that we care for each other, I am just incredibly blessed by them. Jacob puts up with hugs, which is great. Sam puts up with my insanity. It all balances out.

I'm literally one of those people that never gets tired of telling people I care. I'm sure some people get tired of hearing it, but I never want someone to misunderstand how I feel about them. I never want someone to have to doubt that I care. Hopefully, whenever I mess up (because I will) they will remember those times that they have heard me say that I care for them or love them or whatever, it will help heal whatever hurt I have caused. Besides, who doesn't, on some lever or another, love hearing that they are loved? I literally never get tired of it. Ever. In fact, sometimes I just really need to hear it. 

Speaking of love, I found out last week that I received an internship with a Young Life camp in Oregon!!! I will be working in the kitchen for three months, overseeing volunteers from high schools and colleges around the country. I'm literally so excited. I cannot wait to love these kids working with me, as well as the campers, and share some Jesus with them. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be a little bit heartbroken at the end of each session as my volunteers leave, but it's the good kind of heartbreak. I'm planning on heading out there around May 16, and I won't be back until mid or late August! SO excited. It's getting me through the semester. 

But before all that, I have 21 credit hours to take on. Plus a piano-organ duets recital. Plus a voice competition. Plus a senior recital. Plus be a Young Life leader. Plus be a good son. Plus be a good friend. Plus find a house for Aaron, Andrew, Jacob, and I to live in. Plus pack up my house. Plus whatever else. I can do this. After all, I am loved.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder...Right?

Winter break is ending, and with that comes a myriad of feelings. Excitement, reluctance, curiosity, uncertainty, and joy are just a few with which I am dealing. One could say I have "all the feels". I'm excited to finish my last, full-time semester at WSU. I'm reluctant to start classes every day again. I'm curious to find out what this semester holds in life, in Young Life, in school, in music, in friendships, etc. Joy and uncertainty go hand in hand, for me, right now. I'm really happy to have all of my friends back in town, but I'm also uncertain.

Most of my friends I have only seen once or twice over this break and some I haven't been able to see at all. I traveled, they traveled, it happens. It's pretty normal for breaks to go that way. It's also normal for people to not communicate super promptly when they are out of town visiting friends and family. We should absolutely be present with the people around us, especially when we don't get to spend much time with them. Well, if you've been reading, you know that I have been really bad at being confident in my friendships. I'm dealing with a lot of that.

Communication is really big for me. I'm pretty good at it, usually. I genuinely feel bad if someone texts me and I get busy, thus forgetting to respond. Although, some things do not warrant a response. People don't all see it that way, and that's fine. But man, 5+ weeks is a long time with minimal communication when you are accustomed to seeing people almost daily. It's really hard for me. I know that a text lacking response does not always mean "I don't have time for you" or "I'm upset with you". However, knowing that and owning that are different things for me. This used to be something I struggled with to no end. I mean, I'd text someone and if I didn't get a response for an hour, I'd assume the worst. Thank God I am not that way anymore. But it is still something I carry with me. I have a pretty solid resistance to it, but after a few weeks of no communication I begin to listen to that awful voice that questions everything. Add to all of this the fact that I have been home alone for almost a week, and have been sick for four days and have had plenty of time to stew on these things. It's awesome :-)

So, the last couple days have been filled with me wondering where I stand with my friends as they all return to Wichita. It's stupid, really. I went three months without seeing some of you over the summer, and nothing changed between us. In fact, I grew closer to a few because of that time apart. Why has this one month been so difficult? 

On Tuesday, I went to a high school basketball game for my Young Life kids. Truthfully, I have been avoiding these things because of the awful job I did last semester with showing up to things. I only saw my kids once or twice. They understand busy schedules, and they were sure to remind me of that, but I still felt bad. I thought all of the work we had done on building friendships would be damaged because I was not there for a semester. I walked in and was met with hugs, high fives, punches, "hey can you hold this?", and other ways of greeting me that expressed happiness. Literally nothing changed between us. In fact, they expressed more joy in seeing me because I hadn't been around. Saturday, Kendall and I went to a move and hung out just the two of us. I met Kendall when he was in 7th grade. We were really close for two years, and then when he moved to high school we didn't get to see each other much. He wasn't able to go to Young Life or bible study, and I wasn't able to do much hanging out. But Saturday we picked up right where we left off. We hung out and caught up and laughed at old memories. It was so good for this ol' heart of mine. If distrusting high school students flock back to me, why do I have a hard time when my closest friends return?

I invest more in my closest friends. They know more about me. They care about me in ways that have a larger impact on my life. We are friends, and not in a mentoring facet. We are actual friends. I think about my friends all the time. It's not that I miss them constantly, because I don't. It is just that they are a very important part of my life. I talk about them, I think about them, I wonder how they are doing. I text them on occasion. It's how I love them. People love differently. I had the gall, or possibly foolishness, to ask a dear friend if he misses me when we don't get to see each other for a while. He looked at me like I was an idiot and said "Sean. Yes." He went on to talk about how it isn't a constant missing, but he does think about me and wonders how I'm doing occasionally. But he isn't the one that texts just to check in. That isn't how he loves. He asked me if I really doubted that people miss me. I said "yeah, sometimes I do. I've been convinced for a long time that people are excited for the break from me." His response took me by surprise: "Sean, that's because you have a very skewed perception of reality." I do, don't I? 

I have come so far on this insecurity front, but I have so much more room for growth. Winter break is ending, and with that comes a myriad of feelings. Right now, though, excitement wins. I am so excited to grow. I am so excited to be different in some way by the end of this semester. Most of all, I am so excited to have my best friends, whom I love and who love me, back in my life. Time for some good ol' Shenanigans.

Halfway Across the Country and Loved the Entire Way

If you ever get the opportunity to fly halfway across the country to visit some of your loved ones, do it. Absolutely do it. There are few things more worthwhile. I got to fly to Seattle and visit some of my friends from Malibu (the camp in Canada I worked at). My heart needed a retreat, and it got it. Something about having a group of people that you care about and that cares about you just as much, filled with friendships founded in Jesus, diminishes the hurt of the world. I can't tell you how much joy I experienced. At one point, I was literally shaking with excitement. That's what happens when you overload this ol' heart o' mine. But it was the best feeling. I got to see some of my closest friends for the first time in five months after having lived with them for a month. There is nothing like it.

On my way back, I was able to visit with a dear friend in Denver airport. Jessica lives in Boulder, so she came to hang out with me during my layover. It was nice to relax and have some heart-talk together. This is the girl that would, while at Malibu, come up and tell me "Sean, I love how you love me"... to which I would reply "...okay...". However, I eventually understood and began to tell her that I loved it, too. She gave me some perspective on a couple things, some words of comfort and wisdom, and she gave me a good book to read. I'm still processing some of the things she told me. "There are people that are meant to father us, and there are our biological fathers, and sometimes that doesn't always match up". Amen. 

I got back to KC on Jan. 2. On the 3rd, 3 of my friends drove to Kansas City for a guys weekend in celebration of my birthday. Mom gave us her house to live in for the weekend, we toured Boulevard Brewing Company, shot some clay pigeons, ate tasty food, drank some drinks, and just had a great time. I've never had a group of guys with whom I could hang out, much less take a weekend trip. It meant a whole lot to me. Matt wasn't able to be there, so he made the effort to drive up and spend some time with me on Sunday, which was my actual birthday. That also meant a great deal to me. I've never had a friend do anything remotely close to driving three house just to spend some time with me on my birthday. I look back at my life, and look at the quality of various friendships and I am truly moved by the quality of my current friendships. I have never had a birthday celebration that meant so much to me.

The thing that has meant the most to me is that I felt loved the entire time these last two weeks. Love has followed me all around the country. Love came from all around the world. My friends care about me, and I am able to be confident in that. That is new for me, but I am so glad that I get to experience it. I thank God for the growth that I have experienced over these last 22 years of life, and specifically this last year. To think I knew Matt a year ago but it was only through being his accompanist, William and I hardly knew each other, and the people I visited in Seattle and Denver I hadn't even met. But here they are playing integral parts in my life. My heart is so full. Sometimes I grow weary of loving people, but I truly never tire of being loved. 

I took the one less traveled by, and that has made All the difference.

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood, 

And sorry I could not travel both 

And be one traveler, long I stood 

And looked down one as far as I could 

To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5

Then took the other, as just as fair, 

And having perhaps the better claim, 

Because it was grassy and wanted wear; 

Though as for that the passing there 

Had worn them really about the same, 10

And both that morning equally lay 

In leaves no step had trodden black. 

Oh, I kept the first for another day! 

Yet knowing how way leads on to way, 

I doubted if I should ever come back. 15

I shall be telling this with a sigh 

Somewhere ages and ages hence: 

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— 

I took the one less traveled by, 

And that has made all the difference.

Sometimes stepping down that road can be the hardest thing, but way does indeed lead on to way. I'm going to tell myself that as I move through this period of life where so many things are in flux. Relationships, paths, they all change. And that's okay. Sometimes it sucks a ton. But it is usually worth it. 

Life is getting serious lately. As I near the end of my undergrad, I am faced with the possibility of leaving friends behind as we move on in life. I'm faced with figuring out my life. 

In light of Advent and Christmas, I think I have found an even greater peace in God. I don't know why. Just the focus on Him, I guess. But I'm not mad at it. Even just today I had a conversation that I felt prompted to have. I thought it was going to be impossibly difficult, but it wasn't. It was hard, don't get me wrong. And I wish there had been a way to avoid it. However, I felt God's hand in it, and that brings a peace. 

Way leads on to way, Sean. Way leads on to way.