I had a blog once. It was awful.

This past year has been brutal on my blogging. To be fair, most of my desire to write was sucked dry by my Bachelor's Essay, which became a beast of a creation: 16 single-spaced pages of people's volunteer stories and my analysis of it all. I also spent what little free time I had applying for jobs and helping my husband plan a wedding. Well, the wedding thing worked out, but the job? Jury's still out on that one. Between my senior year coursework and helping the lovely Eliza Blades and Laura Mewbourn run the Bonner Leader Program at CofC, I had nothing left when the day was over. So I mindnumbingly watched a lot of Netflix: Breaking Bad, Psych, The Walking Dead, movies on movies on movies. I regret not blogging through my spring break trip to Guatemala and missing out on this reflective space that allows me to make beautiful connections through the craziest year of my life.

But I'm now living a new life, in a new state, in a new apartment, with a new name and a new roommate (hey, John Ray, who doesn't read over my shoulder nearly as much as I read over his). It feels like a good time to pick this blog up, brush off the dust, and reimagine what it will be.

Blogging can be like having an existential crisis all the time. I constantly ask: What should my blog be about? Is this life event significant enough to write about? Am I witty enough? Do people get my sense of humor? Will people care to read about that random thing that happened to me? Would they like more pictures? Does anyone actually read this thing? Is my life meaningful at all?! Okay, not the last one so much. A blog sometimes feels something like an unpleasant growth on the side of your face. People stare at it, but don't ask about it. The word "blog" itself is too uncomfortable to mention anyway. You can't just walk into any room and declare, "I HAVE A BLOG." No, that won't do at all.

But I've made the move from Charleston, SC to Louisville, KY, and, as uncomfortable as it is to say, I'd like to bring my blog along with me. I've traded the Atlantic Ocean and quaint historic houses for rolling green hills and a quirky industrial city with horse and bourbon obsessions. We're trying to find new digs and niches, and basically, I'm not sure where life is taking me from here. Right now, I'm reveling in the joys of watching any World Cup game I want and going to bed before 10 every night. I'm also marveling at how easily I get antsy and frustrated and irrational while my unemployed self sits at home all day staring at job listings. So perhaps my blog and I will be helping each other do some reimagining here.

Welcome to my transition space.
I make no promises, so expect only me. 

Thoughts on Leaving Charleston: Lessons Freshman Year Taught Me

1.       The importance of pillow talk—Courtney and I stayed up late so many nights just talking and catching up (we were both so busy this past semester). By the end of our conversations, we would be terrified to look at the time, knowing that it was probably some ungodly hour.  Yet, I was never tired the next day…

2.       What true community looks like—Props to Charleston BCM. I never realized how important it was to have a strong group of Christians supporting and encouraging you until this year.  Now I know.

3.       That Citadel cadets aren’t all bad—Yeah, I just said that. If you know me at all, you probably just fell on the floor.  That is quite a long story though…

4.       The best place to actually get studying done is at the Charleston Place Hotel—Who knew that staying up until 2 AM studying in a hotel would be a good idea???

5.       Discipleship is the bomb—I got Katie’s dust from her sandals all over me this year. And it was awesome! Seriously, though, having someone pour into me and mentor me has pushed me to think, live, and be deeper. And then getting to pour into someone else has made me rely so much more on God—on His wisdom, His strength, His guidance, His consistency.

6.       The worst things in Charleston are mosquitoes and tourists—Essentially, they’re the same thing, though.  They like to come out when it’s cool and just be pesky. And a lot of times, you just want to smack them. Yes, I was once a tourist.  But I have learned my lesson.

7.       The best memories are made when you’re spontaneous—Some of my favorite memories from the past year are from situations where everything seemed to be going wrong so we ended up at Waffle House doing Emperor Palpatine impressions or wandering through a dark alley near the Battery talking about past relationships or spotting dolphins out at Waterfront Park at midnight.  Spontaneity pays off.

8.       Watching “The Office” is more about friendship than Michael Scott’s witty remarks—Thursday nights at 9 o’clock almost always found me watching “The Office” with some of my best friends. I did it for them…not because I find “The Office” hilarious. It’s just a’ight.

9.       There are other college kids who want to spend the rest of their lives doing ministry and mission work—I feel less alone now. It’s great. They’re inspirational.

10.   How to own my faith—Before college, I just soaked in everything. Now, I filter it. I choose what I believe is true based on my understanding of what the Bible says and of what God is convicting me.  I applied for SummerSalt (it’s a summer camp) this year and didn’t get the position. But as I was filling out the application, I found myself challenged to put my beliefs into words and to support them. I have grown exponentially because of it.

11.   The best place to watch for shooting stars is Sullivan’s Island—Laying on the cool sand in the dark as the Sullivan’s Island lighthouse flashes overhead is quite an experience.  It’s the best place to have seriously deep or ridiculously light-hearted conversation. And you’re guaranteed to spot at least one shooting star if you’re patient enough. I couldn’t help thinking, I can’t believe I live HERE.

12.   That the word “blog” sounds like a disease—Eww! Did you hear she has a blog these days?? That’s so unfortunate.  Hopefully her doctor will be able to give her something to cure that up quickly. (Oh, the conversations that happen when college kids are running on approximately 4 hours of sleep.)

There’s more…so much more. But I fear this blog post is already too long.

Oh. Where is the paradox in this? Well, I went to College of Charleston, and in the midst of all the darkness, I learned to shine brighter.

Thoughts on Leaving Charleston: Goodbyes

The goodbyes of my freshman year lasted for an eternity.  I feel like the goodbyes began a month ago when everyone began to see the light at the end of this semester's tunnel.  It began with the last BCM, my last day at the Children's Museum. my last ESL class, my last time doing discipleship with Katie (we ate at Poe's and talked...it was a good last).  I know that I'll return in the fall to do it all over again, but it still felt like too much closure all at once.

And then it came time to say goodbye to the people in my life. Some of them I knew I'd see this summer. Some I knew would be mostly absent from my life for the entire summer.  And some I knew would not be returning in the fall.  I hate goodbyes.  If we're being completely honest, though, few people genuinely like goodbyes, right?  I avoided them as much as possible during my last week, carefully selecting the phrases "I'll see you later" and "I'll talk to you soon" instead of submitting to the goodbye.

An incredible last day in Charleston surpassed my expectations: Star Wars marathons, sushi, sitting in my car just talking with my roommate for hours in the dark.  But the next morning, when my roommate and I stood outside our dorm room which had been completely emptied of our stuff but not our memories, the goodbyes hit hard.  I just stood there, clutching my fish bowl and a broom as she pulled the door of Buist 404 closed for the final time.  I drove out of Charleston blasting the Passion Awakening CD.  It was unbelievably dusty in my car and I involuntarily teared up a little. (That's a lie.  I cried like a baby through the first six songs on the CD and then sniffled the rest of the way home.)

Freshman year was over.

I happily said goodbye forever to chemistry, math, the semi-warm showers of Buist....

The rest of my goodbyes, though, were a little more bittersweet.  I don't know what next year will hold.  But I've officially given in to the goodbyes of freshman year.

A Poem for Easter Weekend

This Holy City

We paused under the overpass
Begging shelter from the rain,
The hail, the despair.
Remarkably overcast,
The sky like a stain
Seems vaguely unfair.

The sky shatters
And I audibly pray my windshield won't.
This is the beginning of a journey.
People like cars are bruised and battered.
You'd think they feel remorse, but they don't.
We are still learning.

The world is a flood.
Recycling bins float by me
Tainting the streets with good intentions.
Our only hope is holy blood
To pay our ransom fee.
We each seek redemption.
Set us free! Set us free!
From this city of mud
And human inventions.
Rain pours down as I stand beneath a tree,
Enveloped in the filth of this Holy City.