Tennis in the Fall

[Disclaimer: I tried posting this on September 21, like I wanted, but technology was not in my favor...]

So today is the day (September 21) that I can officially dance to the song “September” by Earth Wind and Fire. Don’t know the song? Listen to it. There is something about it that makes me happy that fall is here and that I am at school living with my best friends. The song reminds me of Huntington in the fall; running to class late, walking around campus at night, hearing Huntington North’s football games on Friday nights, and having endless sleepovers and dancing to Soulja Boy on the Mall. It is such a happy song and so full of life. It is all about dancing and falling in love and it is a song that makes me want to dance (okay, a lot of songs do, but you get what I am saying). More than that though, when I think about September, I always think about tennis.

Most people during the fall think of football season. I, like them, do the same thing. I loved football games in high school and there is still something about passing by Huntington North High School on a Friday night and seeing all of Huntington go to the football game. However, fall to me means tennis.

I can’t even begin to tell you how many memories I have that involve that game. Am I the greatest player to walk these courts? Heck no. Do I always have fun when I am out there? Nope. But the game of tennis has been such a apart of my life for almost ten years now and tonight I am realizing that my competitive tennis playing years will come to a halt this year. Sure, I will still play with friends, but it will never be the same as playing against an opponent with your team cheering for you.

Tennis matches in college last for forever, as in, at least 4 hours. That means that whenever we have a match we basically just dedicated our entire night to the court. It makes life hectic and sometimes stressful, but having that racket in your hand and feeling sweat in your eyes makes up for it. Even when, like today, it is scorching hot and you feel like you just may pass out, the adrenaline of knowing that you could win this match or you could lose it keeps you going. And playing with the lights on at night? Nothing like it. Tonight as the lights came on and the crickets got louder, I was hit with the fact that moments like these when you are sitting with your team cheering for one another at night, talking and laughing and complaining about how you have so much homework to do, are passing by and I am moving on. It has to happen; we can’t stay in the present and we can’t always be college athletes for the rest of our lives. But, when I was a freshman at Huntington I thought I had all the time in the world to play. I still remember my first college tennis practice. Now, those days are coming to an end and I am left wondering where they went.
My team will continue on without me, and my sister will get a new double’s partner (hah, maybe she is glad about that?), Coach will still buy fruit snacks and nasty meat for home matches, and the team will still stop at Subway on the long drives back without me. But one thing will never change and that is how much I love the game and love the people who have shared countless moments practicing and building relationships with.
I remember when I got my first racket. I was in sixth grade and I won all these golden coins at my orthodontist. I had about 60 coins, and on that day I went up to the glassed in prize area and saw that my 60 coins were just enough to get me this racket thing. I didn’t really know what it was, but I thought what the heck. That summer, I remember hitting the ball against our garage door with that red racket. From there, I just started hitting with my dad and learning how to play. I did not expect to be on a team during middle school, and I never would have guessed that I would play in college. But here I am.

Tennis is more than just hitting the ball. It is developing relationships, inside jokes, and sharing personal stories with people that you spend hours and hours with. My team and I share more than just a love for playing. We have truly formed a bond with all 12 guys and 10 girls that is incredible. We all are there for each other in every aspect of life and we share stories and events with one another on the long bus rides. We listen to music and dance obnoxiously and make fun of one another and cheer for one another and cry with one another and do Bible studies together. We even spend evenings together outside of tennis by choice, because that is how much we enjoy each other’s presence. Being a part of a team is really the essence of the love of this game. I can honestly say that my team is the best there is and I wouldn’t trade a minute I had with them for something else.

Crazy Week!

This past week has been crazy! I feel like emotionally this week has just been a little draining. What is good about that, however, is that I am really learning that you can't totally trust your feelings or your emotions, or even your logic. Sound confusing? Sorry, I suppose it is something I can't, or don't want to totally explain right now. But despite that, I have this enormous feeling of peace right now about everything. I know in my past posts I was talking about fear and uncertainty, and last week I just had this all consuming feeling that it is what it is and it is time to just totally surrender and enjoy the journey. That is how I feel today. I am just enjoying the journey and learning all over how to trust and depend and be less independent. To share parts of me and emotions that I don't share with a lot of people and to trust that my thoughts will be secure in the hands and heart of another. I have also learned that it isn't all about me. In fact, right now I want to focus my attention on how I can be the person I need to be for others instead of the opposite. All of these emotions and surrendering and sharing and late nights have gotten me little sleep, but I can't tell you the burden that seems to have lifted from me.

Besides all of that, here are some highlights of the week. We had a tennis match up in Michigan on Tuesday. It was probably the most fun match ever. Three hour drive there, eating tons of food, winning the match, laughing, three hour drive back, stopping at Subway, and laughing some more was exactly how a tennis match should be. For all of you who have asked about my back, Tuesday was the first time in almost a year where I felt back to my old self. I played like I used to play, thanks to new pain killers and a back brace. I couldn't have been more thrilled.

Friday night I was able to spend some time with Beth, Brittany, and Kellyn just talking and watching a movie. Okay, okay, I didn't actually watch the movie because Brittany and I were stalking people on Facebook (you know you do it too), but nonetheless, it was a good time.

Saturday night was a lot of fun as well. Todd came over and we did homework for like an hour and then, after seeing something for match.com, decided we should create our own profiles. I know this sounds super lame/stupid, but A) we are in Huntington, IN where there isn't a whole lot happening and B) it is actually really fun and everyone should try it. We wanted to see if we would get paired up together, haha. It took us about 2 hours to complete the profiles, and let me just tell you that match.com has a funny way of turning you into the most shallow human being on the face of the earth. For example, there is a question that asks what you look for physically in a potential mate. Of course, we put "athletic and toned." Well, when both of our matches came up, we did not get athletic and toned people. I said, in a very serious manner, "Why am I getting all of these fatties? I said athletic and toned." Hah. That one kept us laughing for a while.

My roommate, Susanne, came back for a bit and helped us finish the profiles off, and the three of us got to laughing pretty hard together. Then, Mark and Chelsey came over. I think this is the point where I make a confession to all of you. As embarrassing as this may be, you should know that sometimes when Chelsey and I get to laughing really hard, problems happen. You can fill in the blank there. Poor Mark has just been the unfortunate soul who has been witness to this, so the four of us sat there laughing about that, and then Chelsey and I were at it again.

The rest of the night we watched Step Up, and then decided to try to learn some of the dance moves. I for some reason, could not get this one move down at all; I am hoping it is because it was 2:30 in the morning and I was really tired and ate too much candy corn. Either way, the night was fun and full of laughs.

Yesterday, Beth and I went to church and then did homework the rest of the day. Today, I feel slightly ADHD and that I can't focus on one thing at a time. I have a home match at 4, and I think I may need to try to sleep for a bit before that.

Before I go, however, I want to leave you with some funny quotes that were said in my life this week. I really like keeping tabs on these things that really make you laugh, and in fact, my roommates and I keep a quote board in our apartment for those really good lines. You probably won't enjoy them as much if you don't know these people or the situations we were in, but if you do, then laugh with me for a while! Disclaimer: Some may not be completely appropriate, but we can't always filter what goes in our brain and out our mouth all the time.

-"If I had to choose one professor to have sex with, it would definitely be him." _Beth :)

-"OKAY! Why do we keep going off the road?" _Kristen

"I think it's because coach is eating. HE'S EATING!!!" _Gonzo

-"Erica, you just need to relax....Alright; can you just not talk for 2 minutes? Just close your eyes and listen to the music and do not talk." _Todd

-"He's just not weird enough for her." _Brittany

-"A girl's got needs!" _Susanne

-"What?" _Gonzo

"Oh...nothing. We love ya Gonzo." _Me

"Awww. I love you guys too." _Gonzo

-"Erica, I'm going to keeeel you." _Alexandra

Erica and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

So I may be over exaggerating with the title here but, today was just not my day. Looking back on it I suppose I can laugh because some of it was just ridiculous. For example, my hair. My hair looked awful today. I have curly hair and for whatever reason, the water in Huntington does not mix well with my hair. It was pretty much an afro and nothing I did made it look good.

Alright, that is not a huge deal. In fact, there were some aspects of my day that were really wonderful. Chapel today was good. I was able to eat lunch with two great people and Todd made me laugh so hard that spaghetti sauce actually started its way down my nose. All good. And then Lindsay and I laughed about nothing for a while later too. Great!

So, why am I still up at 1:30 in the morning when I should be doing my chemistry webassign (ICK) and instead I am on here? Well, let me introduce you to Huntington’s biggest rival, Indiana Wesleyan, or IWU. Apparently this school has the power to make someone feel like beating up on something. This afternoon, we had a tennis match against them. It is always fun to play them…at first. We prepare mentally and listen to great songs prior to the match and talk ourselves through how this year we are finally going to beat them. Today was no different.

Here is the thing about IWU: they are good at everything. Everything! They also have really great facilities and this amazing coffee shop that even (I hate to admit this) Huntington Students visit on occasion. The fact that they have this coffee shop and we don’t just makes our rivalry even stronger. And what’s worse is that their tennis team is dynamite. I don’t know how, and honestly, I don’t even want to try and figure it out. They just literally kick everyone’s butts. They have these bright red uniforms which make them look like those fire ants that sting you when you accidentally sit on them on the sidewalk. Their coaches are super amazing, and just when you think you have them pegged into this stereotype of the snotty, if I have to kill you I will, type of people, they prove you wrong. Because IWU’s tennis team is probably the nicest team we play. Alright, I said it.

Their tennis program is like the Stepford Wives. It looks so perfect! They have 12 tennis courts, indoor courts that are so much better than ours, a huge shed thing, and great bleachers. And the players are always just so cheerful (okay, c’mon, they win all the time who wouldn’t be that cheerful) and always on time and always seem to be doing their homework after they are done winning. It’s like, how do they do that? How are they so put together right now when I barely made it in time to catch the bus to the match let alone bring all of my homework? They are the team that everyone loves to hate, but can’t because they are nice. Dangit.

So, today Jess and I lost our doubles match. So did the other doubles. Then, during my single’s match weird things happened. I was up 5-0. My adrenaline was rushing so fast I thought I was going to pass out. Then, the inevitable happened; my back snapped. My back has been injured for a year now, and I seriously can’t remember what it feels like to play without feeling pain. But right in the middle of my winning streak, BAM. Then, she started hitting shots all over the court that I could not run to. So I started losing. I lost 6 games in a row. I don’t even want to go and try to explain how annoyed and mad I was. I couldn’t move, so I felt like I was trapped in this box unable to escape. And, emotionally I was confused because I was just so pumped up about winning and now I was losing?! How does that happen?

This girl’s entire family was there too, and her boyfriend, and her friends. Perfect IWU family. Yeah, well mine would be there too if this were a home match, okay? So if hearing 5 loud voices shout, “Awesome shot Rachel!” after every shot that were not even very good I just couldn’t get to it really bring down my self confidence, then maybe the fact that I double faulted like 10 times did.

It was basically a mercy killing. It hurt…bad. Physically and emotionally. It would not have been so bad if I lost with some dignity or grace, but that didn’t really happen. The girl felt no pity on me whatsoever, and continued to just move me around until my back stiffened up again. I am pretty sure at one point I wanted her to just come over and beat me with her racket physically because that would have been a much more painless death than the slow one I was going through.

It finally ended, her victorious, if you didn’t catch that yet. Her entire fan base cheered her on as she walked off the court and yelled, “What an amazing comeback!” Yeah…for real. I couldn’t help but wonder just how happy this girl was probably feeling right then, all thanks to me.
Wouldn’t be so bad if I knew that I was able to give 100% or if I knew that the girl was actually better than me. And I realize that this is just a part of life, and in the big scheme of things it is nothing. I know. But it still really annoyed me.

And getting back to campus at 9 with about 4 hours of writing papers and reading ahead of me doesn’t seem to help either. That’s life though, right? And I suppose, I can laugh it off, just maybe not tonight.

That is why when I got back to campus I put on John Mayer’s “Who Cares” song and drove around Huntington for 10 minutes until I felt ready to face the world again.
Gotta love sports, and homework, and the fact that I am currently sitting in my living room in the dark wearing red shorts and a red t-shirt and look like a skinny off colored tomato. And I do appreciate my teammates who, unfortunately, all lost as well. And I appreciate Buffalo Wild Wings where the team went to dinner, and I appreciate my roommates who make burnt banana bread and make me laugh. And I appreciate all of my friends who always ask how my match goes, and I appreciate it when I say it was really bad someone says, “that’s okay, you can tell me about it tomorrow.” Thank you, for that.

Tomorrow is another day, right? Thank goodness!

Crossing the Boundaries

No guts, no glory. No pain, no gain. Blah, blah, blah. This past week, I have probably played over twenty hours of tennis in 6 days. My body feels like someone ran me over, but despite that, tennis has taught me a very valuable lesson this week.

I’m not exactly sure when I started to be fearful of losing a tennis match or anything else for that matter, but sometime during my college years worry over certain things and fear started to really manifest its way into my life. During my high school tennis career, and even early college, fear did not stop me or paralyze my mind hardly ever. During matches while my opponent would be serving, I would always stand close to the service box to return the serve back. If you know anything about tennis, you know that this is more aggressive, and also riskier. You are putting yourself out there ready to meet the ball and, hopefully, crush it down the court victoriously.

There is always a chance when you stand closer to the incoming ball that you may get hit or might lose out on the point. However, the potential of hitting an aggressive return back outweighs this risk. I remember one time my freshman year I got nailed by a serve because I was standing so close to the service box. It about knocked the wind out of me and I had to take several moments to even regain composure. It left me with a bruise that lasted about 2 weeks. The initial pain hurt, but not for very long. I recovered, and even was able to continue to stand close to the service box afterward. Getting hit didn’t do permanent damage and most of the time, standing near that line allowed me to hit some seriously amazing returns back.

Lately, however, I have begun to stand behind the baseline (sorry if you know nothing about tennis; the baseline is the back of the court, far away from the service box). I suppose I have been back at the baseline now for a couple of years with little to show from it. I knew this was the safer route. I wouldn’t get nailed by a ball back there. Nothing bad could happen to me if I am standing behind the line. But, this also meant that my ability to crush the serve back was lessened. Instead of being near the battle line, if you will, I had to run farther to the ball and just hit it over. Safe? Yes. Aggressive? No.

The other day at practice, I was at my usual position behind the baseline awaiting my teammate’s serve. My coach came up to me and said, “Erica! Get up to that service line! Why are you standing back so far? That won’t win you any points.” Suddenly it all clicked. I was standing further away behind the baseline to protect myself from potential damage of getting hurt or losing. I did not want to allow myself to cross into that line that could potentially hurt me, even though, it could also be an amazing opportunity for me and my tennis game. Fear got me.

I know what it feels like to get smashed in the stomach by a tennis ball going very fast. It hurts. But I got over it. And did it hurt enough to stop me from taking a risk out on the court? Not at first. It wasn’t until I started to think about the dangers that could be lurking if I crossed that baseline again and allowed myself to get closer to the incoming ball. It was almost as if the thought of the ball hitting me was worse than it actually hitting me.

Lately this is how I have been in life, too. Sometimes I am too afraid to cross over the line because I allow myself to let fear of unseen dangers get to me. I don’t believe this is the life we were called to live. We aren’t supposed to hide behind the battle lines in fear. We are supposed to cross that line knowing that even if we do get hurt, it won’t last forever.

Of course it is easier to stand behind the line and protect yourself. But while you are standing there, you are blocking what could potentially be an amazing experience. Relationships, for example. Sure, it is a lot easier to allow yourself not to feel anything and to not take a risk, because it is scary. It is scary to let someone in who may not always be there, but does that mean you should block them away? What about taking a new job or moving somewhere else? Do you just stand behind the lines to protect yourself from the “what ifs” of life?

I love the quote that says, “Tis better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.” Isn’t that true? Wouldn’t we rather know that we allowed ourselves to give something our best shot and take a risk even if it means loss in the end? Or would we rather live in the grey area where nothing bad could happen, but nothing good could happen either?

Sadly, I have been pretty good at this lately. Fear over certain areas of my life have pushed me behind the baseline disabling me from taking a risk that could be really great. Crossing the baseline does not guarantee success. If it did, well then of course I would not stand behind it. Instead, however, I choose to worry myself into standing behind the line for fear of what could happen if I crossed it. This is not faith in any way.

It may be safe to stand behind the baseline protecting yourself, but standing outside of the line is not where greatness lies; and in order to find greatness, you need to cross that line.

This is a quote that I wrote down several years ago from Grey’s Anatomy. It says, “At some point, you have to make a decision. Boundaries don’t keep other people out. They fence you in. Life is messy. That’s how we’re made. So, you can waste your life drawing lines. Or you can live your life crossing them.”

So, here is to crossing over the baseline from here on out. To taking risks with my relationships and life, and to stop worrying and let God do the work.

Old Friends

You know that song that goes like, “make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver and the other’s gold”? Ever since I was little I have always tried to figure out which friends were the silver and which were the gold. It makes logical sense because of the order of the song that the new friends are silver and the old friends are gold, and obviously, gold is worth more. If that is what the song really does mean, that kind of bothers me. The way I look at it is that every old friend was once a new friend, therefore, all of your friends are gold. I would hate to think that those new friends I made this summer are simply silver in comparison, so that is how I think of the song.

But, there is something about those friends who are the old ones; the ones who are a part of your history and characters during special moments of your life as the younger you. There is even something more special about those old friends who were a part of your past and are still a part of your present. I am ever so thankful for those girls.

All reasoning and logic would tell someone that after high school, a group of friends won’t be able to sustain what they once had. I am here to tell you that me and my friends A.) love a challenge and B.) love to win, therefore, there was no way we would not remain friends after high school. It is kind of fun beating the odds, and we for sure did.

It has been three years since we graduated and since we said goodbye as we left for different colleges wondering if we would ever really have what we had since 7th grade. I am here three years later to tell you that what we have is even better than what we had in 7th grade.
Tonight, four of us were sitting in Adair’s hot tub, like we have so many times before. As we climbed into the tub, we laughed as we thought about how many boys we have talked about in that very hot tub. 6 girls x 9 years = a lot of boys. Do you think he likes me? What does it mean when he sent me a text like this? When he brushed my arm at dinner did that mean anything? I think I like him…how do I let him know this? When is he going to kiss me? What if I do something stupid on our first date? Questions and analyzing and listening to voicemails left by our wonderful, nervous boys of the past over and over again (poor guys didn’t know that we did in fact share some of those voicemails with our closest friends) were definitely conversations we have been having for years now. Of course now the conversations are more like, when do you think he will propose? Do you want to get married next summer?

Crazy. That is what is beautiful about those old friends. They know all about your past; your first crushes, the tests you failed, the times you didn’t get the part you wanted in a play, your first date, your first kiss, the silly fights with your parents, your driver’s test, the football games, the bonfires. They are the ones who drove to your house at night when you got in some fight with your boyfriend and brought you ice cream, the ones who would listen to you over analyze every move, the ones who knew when you really loved that special guy, the ones who have seen you cry so hard you can’t breathe, the ones who hurt when you hurt, and cry for you. The ones who you have spent countless hours chatting online, painting rooms, making silly videos in the middle of the night, buying clothes with. They have that special key to your past and hold it tightly and unlock it when necessary. You can laugh and cry with them. They have seen the times when you were at the lowest you could ever be. They have seen you be completely insane, and love you anyway.

That is the beauty of old friends. Sometimes, I miss the old days, especially senior year. Innocent, unknowing, free, and probably crazy. Then, moments like tonight, when nothing has changed, and yet everything has changed, come along. And I remember the past with a touch of sadness and longing and with deep, loud laughs. But I also feel the present and look around and see these girls who have been my best friends since I was twelve and how we are making memories even still…and I can honestly say that things could not get any better than this.
So, to those girls, whose friendship is even deeper and better than it ever was before. For all of the laughs, the cries, the encouragement, the cards, the prayers, the dancing, the late night chats, the ice cream, and the jokes that never get old. For the past and for the present now, thank you.

Sounds of Summer

Tonight is my last night up north. It was my last late night boat ride and the last time I will be able to look out in the middle of the night at the moon hanging above the water until next year. It is always kind of sad. It seems like just yesterday I was making my first trip of the season up.

Summer is that special time when you, especially a student, have 3 solid months to become. You can start fresh. You can get involved in new hobbies and pick up the ones you left behind last August. Those three months are the times when you should be drowsy from the heat and stuffed because you ate too much sweet corn and licorice (or maybe that is just me). These precious days of summer are that transition time from the end of one year to the beginning of another. A time when everyone changes a little and gets sun burnt a lot.

Tonight, I am aware that my three months of becoming are nearing its end. I love the sound of crickets and of loons. Once September comes, those sounds begin to disappear, and school starts up again. Growing up in West Michigan, one of my most favorite sounds of summer is that of seagulls gawking above crashing waves. Seagulls seem to be everywhere in the summer around West Michigan; the mall, tennis courts, on your swim raft. They can be annoying, I know. They are kind of pushy, evil creatures, but they have a lot of vigor and I like it. What I like even more is how they fill the beaches during summer. Any beach you go to, there they will be. The most beautiful sight is when they are flying low over waves. They aren’t necessarily graceful birds, but I am not a graceful human, so I like them. And I like how they faithfully come into our lives here every June.

And after this week, I will be back in Indiana where the seagulls are few and far between.

One of my other favorite sounds of summer is that of music. Summer brings in its own special kind, and every summer there is that defining song. When I got out of school in May I really enjoyed the song "American Honey" because it so described my feelings about this time of the year. I especially liked it because it talks a lot about remembering childhood times and great summers of the past. I love how it talks about the race of life. It seems like the older you get, the less time you are able to sit back and listen to the seagulls because life is not as innocent as it once was as a child. I think it is important to sit back and regain that childhood innocence. The lyrics go:

"She grew up on the side of the road
Where the church bells ring and strong love grows
She grew up good, She grew up slow
Like American honey

Steady as a preacher, Free as a weed
Couldn't wait to get goin', But wasn't quite ready to leave
So innocent, pure and sweet, American honey

There's a wild, wild whisper blowin' in the wind
Callin' out my name like a long lost friend
Oh I miss those days as the years go by
Oh nothing's sweeter than summertime, and American honey

Get caught in the race of this crazy life
Tryin' to be everything can make you lose your mind
I just wanna go back in time, to American honey"

So, goodnight Minising Point and the beauty of another summer at the lake. Thanks for all of the memories.

Until next summer…

Brokenness

I always appreciate hearing a pastor or speaker share stories from their lives that relates to their audience. It is important to hear from other people that you are not the only one feeling a certain way. And, as hard as it sometimes is to share your areas of weakness, I think it is important to learn from others. So here goes.

For the past month I have been completely selfish. I noticed that I was no longer seemed to be bothered by the ‘bad’ things of the world. Poverty, broken hearts, divorce, all of these things that affect a lot of people just haven’t been making me flinch as of late. Not only that, but somehow in between me going to fancy restaurants, spending nights at different West Michigan beaches, getting expensive coffee with friends and shopping, I forgot to thank God for all that I have been given.

I know how stuff like this happens, and it is not a conscious effort on my part. It is not like I am sitting here thinking about how I am only going to think about myself and how to advance my life while running everyone else over. It is not like that at all. It is just that I have everything I could ever want and my life has become so accustomed to living in such a way that I have become very much removed from the harshness of the world. All of my life I grew up feeling very blessed and I have always appreciated the life I was given. But sometimes, when you have everything you want, you forget that there is another world out there. It is easy to get caught up in this, even when you do not try. I don’t know what it feels like to worry about finances or wonder if my family is going to be able to continue to live in their home. Whenever I have any problem, I know there would be so many people there to help me. I have always loved all that I have been given, and treasure those things. But sometimes, it would be nice to get out of the bubble of loveliness to be able to see the real world, because I know that I am far removed from that.

Last week, in fact for many weeks lately, I have been so focused on myself. How can I make my senior year as great as possible? Where can me and my friends travel this year? What am I going to do after I graduate? When will I be able to take my vacation to New Zealand? When will I have time to buy all of those great clothes I want? What flights can I take to Florida over Christmas to make my vacation the absolute best? All I have been doing is worrying about me. First of all, this shows very little faith. While many of these questions are valid, instead of mulling them over in my mind I should have given them to God and asked what He wants me to do and worry less about how to use my material gifts to enhance my life, because most people do not have all that I have.

I began to feel guilty this last weekend about my selfish attitude and the fact that I have not spent time thanking God lately. I don’t even mean thanking Him for giving me a car or allowing me to be able to spend money and save. I mean I have not even thanked Him for the fact that I will be graduating college in May with 2 degrees, or thanked Him for all He has brought me through because all I have been worried about is how I can make me feel good.

This is wrong. I know that it is because we are sinful people, but it makes me sad to think that I have not been spending the kind of time with the God who faithfully brought me through some of the hardest moments I may ever know. Why is this? Why do we cling to God during the hard times, but when times are good we begin to take control again and forget? This week I was reminded of that. As I began to prepare myself for going back down to Huntington for my final year, so many memories flooded back. Beautiful times with friends, times of studying hard, times of watching movies and drinking coffee. Those times will forever be treasured and yet I have not even sat down to really thank Him for giving me the gift of attending such a place recently. What is more important is that in the midst of the most tragic time of my life losing someone so special to me my sophomore year, He was the only one I could cling to, and I did with all of my heart. Being so far away from home and feeling so utterly lonely and heartbroken in the middle of winter, He was there for me. College is difficult, working toward 2 completely different majors is difficult, and trying to continue to do that when you are grieving alone is even more difficult. There is no way I would have been able to make it when I so wanted to just go home during those long months if He were not the one holding me up and giving me the strength to continue to take 19 credits. Believe me, I think about this a lot, but sometimes it is easier to just think about the good times and all of the wonderful things going on with me because it can be sad to remember the times of struggle and tragedy. And lately, I have felt just sort of heartless.

I began to pray about this. I felt like I have had this attitude of, oh I poured my heart and soul into 25 five year olds during January that should cover me for a good six months. Wrong. But lately, I just have not cared.

Then, my friends and I went to Chicago on Tuesday. It was a fabulous time, of course. In the midst of the fun and the shopping, I came across this homeless man. Something was different about this guy, though. He was not sitting there begging for money or crying out to those passing by. Instead, he was slowly walking the sidewalk with some sort of stick. I could tell that he was struggling. Naturally, his clothes were torn and dirty, and he looked very ill. Even in the middle of a noisy city, however, I heard this scraping sound. I looked down at the man’s feet and saw that he was walking on tiny pieces cardboard which he tied around his feet. What was worse is that his feet were bloody with sores covering them. His toes looked completely distorted and he could barley move. I looked down and quickly back up again and right in that moment, my heart was broken again and I knew that God was trying to show me what I needed to be shown.

Here I was with two new coats and great friends with all I could ever ask for and there was a man with absolutely nothing. Whenever I would complain about something foolish as a child my mom would always remind me of this quote that says something like, “I used to cry because I had no shoes, until I met a man with no feet.” That quote would always put things into perspective for me. Running across this man in the streets of Chicago I felt totally sad. I just walked by him, and I will never see him again. He is a person. I have no idea how that happened to him. I do know that after I passed him I asked myself why is it that I have all that I could ever need and want, and there are people who don’t even have shoes?

I am not sure the answer to that. I just wish there was more I could do. This scene brought me out of my bubble and into a world that is hurting, a world that needs Christ. How does someone like me make an impact? I will let you know as I continue to find out. I wish I could just run to those people and those little children with nothing and teach them how to get a job and help them learn how to support themselves and bring them to church. In one of my devotions the author said something that struck me. She said, “He [Jesus] involved himself one-on-one with those He helped.” I couldn’t help but wonder what He thinks when I choose to pretend not to see the hurt in other people’s lives? What if that man was my dad, or my friend? What if that man was Jesus and we all just walked by?

I am grateful for all that I have been given, and I am very grateful that God showed me this man in Chicago so I can be reminded again of my true purpose of life and explore how I can do my part and focus less on me.

I am going to leave you with this quote from the book Bittersweet. This quote struck me because I so understand what she is saying. To me, this quote relates to what I am trying to say about brokenness and feeling other people’s pain. I am so grateful to those friends and family who could feel my pain and hurt, and I need to continue to be reminded how to feel other people’s, even strangers’ own heartbreak. And I do believe when our hearts are completely broken, God touches us in such powerful ways. God brought me through my heartbreak; shouldn’t I help others with theirs?

“Heartbreak brings us lots of places – to despair, to bitterness, to emptiness, to numbness, to isolation. But because God is just that good, if we allow the people who love us to walk with us right through the brokenness, it can also lead to a deep sense of God’s presence. When things fall apart, the broken places allow all sorts of things to enter, and one of them is the presence of God…I don’t know what you’ve lost this year: a life, a friend, a child, a dream, a job, a home. I don’t know what’s broken your heart this year…I believe deeply that God does his best work in our lives during times of great heartbreak and loss, and I believe that much of that rich work is done by the hands of people who love us, who dive into the wreckage with us and show us who God is, over and over and over.”