Sassy...Ohioan?

I've had a phrase that I've been saying lately:

"The Lord is weird, but he is so good."

That basically sums up the "mini-journey" that I have been on since September of last year, and boyyy do I have some news for you all.

You are looking at the newest year-round resident of Cedarville, Ohio.

How did I get to this point, you may ask?

The Lord is weird, but he is so good. 😉

It was during September 2018 that the Lord began stirring my heart to stay in Cedarville permanently over the next year. That was humorous to me because it had been just mere months ago that I had sworn off Cedarville. However, at that time, obviously I was worried about being away from Nana and Papa for that long amount of time, and I had no clue about how it would all work out. So I began praying about it.

By October it was feeling right, but still I had no real direction, so I decided to shoot my dad a long email about how I was feeling and letting him know that I most likely would not return home the next summer. I physically cringed hitting "send" because I was afraid I was either going to get a call where he laughed at me, or yelled at me. It was neither- he sent me back an email saying he understood and would support my decision. That was a definite "God moment" and into November and December, God was just confirming and confirming my decision.

The only other two obstacles were going to be trying to find a job here over the summer, and to find housing. If those were not provided, I knew that this was not what God wanted for me over the summer. But to the glory of God, I was asked to help rent out the house my friend Hannah will be living in over the next year (and for a reasonable price, may I add!), and I have my first job interview on Wednesday. I have back-up positions I am going for if I do not get this one, but I am no longer worried about the possibility of NOT getting a job, it is more of a worry about getting a job with enough hours to keep me afloat over the summer.

So there you have it! 

I'll be honest, I'll miss my Maine summer. This will be my first summer where I do not spend any time at camp...ever, seriously. And obviously I'll miss my family and the pets, but there is no doubt in my mind that this will be a summer of great growth and stretching, and that this is where God wants me. I've got my church, and my ever-expanding Ohio family as a fantastic support system.

And a surprise little add-in: 

I will be graduating next spring! 

Okay, okay...this is not completely confirmed because Tom Mach and I need to have a little heart-to-heart before I make the final decision, but there really is no reason for me to NOT graduate next spring. So now I get to start thinking about my GRE, and grad school applications...just so much fun!

I will admit that everything going on right now is a tad bit overwhelming, but it is mostly all blessings. I have had to make SO many giant leaps of faith over the past year, and I do not regret any of them because the Lord has been faithful.

I am still going to leave my blog title as it is, because I'll always be a Mainer at heart and even though it is not in my immediate plans to return, who knows if someday I'll end up back there.

I do have some things that everyone could be praying for, though:

1. That my summer job is secured, and I can get enough hours to feed myself and still have a little money to have some fun. (I have enough money saved up for rent, already.
2. I either have to take 12 credits over the summer (while working) or 21 in the fall to graduate next spring- so prayers for perseverance.
3. That I can find an affordable apartment or house in Cedarville to sub-lease with people for the fall. It would probably be cheaper in the long-run for me to live off of campus for my senior year, and honestly I would prefer that, so if you guys could pray that if it be God's will, I find somewhere to live that is close-by.
4. Pray about my GRE/grad school decisions that will come up in the fall. I am not quite sure if I am ready for this transition or not- but it is coming up quickly whether I am ready or not!

I appreciate the prayers in advance, I cannot wait for you guys to all follow along with me on this next adventure!

Much love,

Laura xx 

My Nana

How do you write a small post about someone who meant the world to you?

(One of our first pictures together)

It's been a rough couple of weeks for me, and you all know that. Thank you to Tom & Chris, Lynette, Mandi, Sissy, Abby M, Laura, Kristen, Cam, Haley, Holly, my professors...and everyone else I am forgetting for the love and support you have given me.

I had the privilege of having Gail Frances Lunn as my Nana first and foremost, but also, in her terms, "a very special friend."

 It was only natural, having spent my first five years of life with her as my daytime caretaker, and the next 13 years of my life with her after-school each day, and countless hours besides that spent at her and Papa’s house. She was the first person I wanted to call when anything was going on, and when I would walk into her house, I would immediately seek her out. Even when physically apart we exchanged emails, phone calls, and eventually sent text messages and would FaceTime occasionally. The best part of my day out at Cedarville was our hour-long conversation we would share each day. Some days we didn't get it in, some days we went over the hour...but I cherished them. She also knew how much I loathed an empty mailbox, so she would write out her daily activities and thoughts and send them in letter form 2-3 times a week, and once a week slipping in a ten-dollar bill. She also sent me monthly care packages full of my favorite sweets she baked, my favorite candies, and usually decorations, or clothes, or coffee to fill the rest of the box. 

Oh, how I miss those already. 

She was my hero, I've never seen a stronger lady. And having shrunk to 4'11 by the time she passed, she was indeed small, but even more indeed mighty. She'd suffered from painful rheumatoid arthritis since my Mom was just a baby, and even though she'd joke about her mangled hands- I loved those mangled hands. Not only that, but she'd survived a bout of breast cancer, a fractured femur...and...well...some broken ribs that were caused by me hugging her a bit too hard as a preteen (dang osteoporosis!). But she had also survived the traumatic loss of her mother when she was 31, and the pain of her only sister walking out on our family about thirty years ago. The Lord was her strength, and she was bold about that. 

There are so many things that I miss about her, and many might seem strange to you, but they weren't strange to me.

•  Her cooking: I had many special "Nana meals" that I know will never taste quite as good even if I make them exactly according to her recipes. My birthday meal consisted of her meatloaf topped with bacon bits, turnip (her and I's favorite vegetable, with vinegar, of course!), olives, and her rhubarb dessert instead of a birthday cake. I am so happy that I was able to have my last birthday dinner with her celebrated early last August. Her sweets and breads were something I happily gorged on, and it will never be the same.

• Her hugs: They got progressively more bony as I grew up, and as I grew taller I had to bend over to get them, but I loved them. She always smelled of baby powder and White Rain hairspray, and I always caught a whiff of it whenever we hugged.

• Her hands: She had what I considered to be the most beautiful fingernails, and though her hands were gnarled and her finger joints loose (she used to love grossing me out by wiggling her top knuckles around), I sure loved them.

• Her distinct yelling of, "Laura!!!": I finally had grown up enough to figure out what I could say that would prompt that. And honestly, especially during our phone calls the past year and a half, I enjoyed being able to tell her the outrageous things I'd done that I knew would make her go off. (Oh, excuse me, she would yell at me right now for typing this, and try and explain that she was only "raising her voice." 😉) 

• Her scolding when I would say I was stressed: Y'all who know me well know that I am stress personified. But I couldn't say that I was stressed one bit without hearing, "You're stressed?! Why are you stressed?! There's no reason to be stressed! DON'T STRESS!!" It just is so funny because she stressed a lot, and I knew that...so occasionally I'd call her on it too, out of good jest. 

• Her handwriting: I have so many letters, cards, and a memories book that she made for me when I graduated high school so I can preserve it. She had such beautiful handwriting, and I loved scanning down to the bottom of each letter where I knew it would read, "Love you bunches!"

• Her hatred of coffee, Kraft Dinner, and me cracking my knuckles: That was one of the first things that struck me when I came home for her funeral. She wasn't there to yell at me for buying yet another iced coffee at Tim Horton's, or for cracking my knuckles. I did not like that silence. 

• Her support of me: She attended pretty much everything I ever did, and for at least my first ten years...she got it on film, too. I wanted to make her proud, and I know that I did make her proud. And I know she would still be proud of me. I felt her love every day. 

• Her never making it through a meal without spilling something on herself: this is pretty self-explanatory. It was extremely amusing, and my mother has inherited the trait.

• Her love of Fox News, Chopped, HGTV, and old game shows: I could always count on us to watch these together whenever at her house...although she normally would fall asleep.

• Her love of cards: I've never been much of a card player, until I played my first game of Rummy with her the summer of 2017. I enjoyed our rivalry, and it hurts my heart that we never got to finish our final game. (But she probably would have beat me anyways...)

She wouldn't have wanted the fuss of this post, because that wasn't the way she was.

But there is a Nana-shaped hole in my heart that feels worse to me than the actual hole in my heart I have.

I knew that she would never live to see me get married, or meet my children, but somewhere in my heart I hoped she would. But she'll live on in my memories. My children will know about their great-grandmother and the love she had for Jesus, and for me. 

(My last picture with her. I wish I'd known that it'd be the last.)

No matter the pain I feel, I am so thankful that her pain is gone. Her body betrayed her, and it betrays her no longer. Some of her last words were her saying she wanted to go home- and she is home, and I am thankful she is with Jesus. I am so thankful for her life, and that God let her be my Nana for nearly 21 years of my life.

Laura xx

2018: A Reflection

2018

I had thought that 2017 was a roller-coaster of a year...but I hadn't met 2018 yet. It began with a leap of faith- coming off all medications I had been on for almost six years (remind me not to do that again...), and those leaps of faith just kept coming. 

January was dark.

It was quitting medications cold turkey. It was an arrival and a departure within 24 hours of one another, leaving me in shattered pieces and unsure what to do. It was new classes and new professors. It was 1AM nights in either Printy or Lawlor watching "The Office" and playing MarioKart and Smash Bros. It was braving 30 degree temps in Columbus all day for a night of worshipping with friends. It was panic attacks and weight loss.

February was a blur.

It was a bitter Super Bowl loss. It was a prayer journal started. It was theological differences. It was being left without a church to call home. It was laughter over someone's van almost being swallowed by Cedar Lake. It was sending myself a dozen roses on Valentine's Day. It was random 75 degree days, Young's Runs, and an impromptu Ohio State basketball game. It was waiting for February to be over and for March to come. (Little did I know what I was waiting for...)

March was wild (in the most non-ironic sense of the word):

It was grabbing cans of tuna and feeding feral cats with a friend at 10PM. It was 3 new states and a new province visited. It was 1AM chats and tea with precious Canadian family. But then it was insomnia. It was watching the clock turn to 5AM night after night and missing classes. It was panic and questioning God. It was tears, lots of tears. It was suicidal thoughts. It was being minutes away from dropping out. It was the sheer Providence of God. It was two professors I learned to trust, and I knew cared for my well-being. It was the reintroduction of medication. But it was a decision to not return.

April was a juxtaposition:

It was an Easter spent in Florida with my grandparents and favorite aunt and uncle. It was a sunburn that would haunt me the rest of the year. It was a tornado that happened an hour after I arrived back on campus. It was applying to other colleges. It was fights with the financial aid office. It was precious time spent with Lynette. It was flowers blooming and temperatures rising. It was a new favorite coffee drink. It was an interview that impressed me, and a building I fell in love with. It was a chapel that changed me, and changed my mind. It was the return of a friend. It was a new church I could call home. It was a frantic call to my father, making a decision that would change everything. It was a blind leap of faith.

May was the hope of a new beginning:

It was a return to Maine, and the knowing that I had made the right decision to return to Ohio come fall time. It was another decision, to move across campus and live where my mum did nearly 30 years ago. It was excitement after stumbling across another class with my favorite professor and signing up for it. It was finally meeting a man I had looked up to my entire life. It was scones, and tiaras, and waking up at 4:30AM for a royal wedding that I had long awaited. And it was the beginning of a summer course load that I had not anticipated.


June was unsettling:

It was attending a baseball game with an old friend. It was the return of feeling stuck and like I'd go crazy spending one more minute in Aroostook County. It was Tim Horton's...a lot of Tim Horton's. It was going to a place I had called home all my life...and it not quite feeling like I fit there anymore. It was confusion and heartbreak.

July was wistful:

It was the danger of getting a C in Biology. It was a blissful trip to Walker's Point. It was running into a favorite senator at a random bookstore. It was color-coding, scheming, and dreaming. It was getting antsy for a fresh start. It was the dream of getting back to Ohio early, and booking my ticket. It was saying a bittersweet farewell to the place I have always loved, not knowing my place anymore.

August was surprising:

It was a final trip to my dear Canada for a donair run. It was an early morning stop at my favorite doughnut place. It was a 17-hour train ride that gave me sweet time to reflect. It was the end of a 4.0 semester (the only one I'll probably ever get). It was coming back to Ohio early. It was 7 days spent with a friend and her family. It was a move to a new side of campus. It was a new walking path and routine that I have grown to love dearly. It was familiar and friendly faces. It was helping Ashley settle into campus. It was unexpected isolation that turned out to be extra time with the Lord that I needed. It was learning to trust.

September was breathtaking:

It was the most gorgeous sunrises and sunsets you will ever see. It was a dream job I never thought I would get, but I did. It was a solid church routine and falling in love with my Life Group. It was another trip to Washington D.C. It was 8 Starbucks visits in 3 days. It was losing a dear friendship, but gaining so many even sweeter ones. It was a paper that I felt I put my entire life into. It was being honest with myself. It was realizing I had bitten off more than I could chew. It was a professor looking out for me. It was getting the help I needed.

October was wonderful:

It was midterms that were actually a joy to take. It was greeting prospective students. It was Homecoming with Lynette. It was celebrating New England with other New Englanders at a professor's house. It was birthday cheesecake with Laura. It was celebrating 20 years of life with Lynette, Jenna, and Jon. It was a fun hayride with Jenna. It was joining a sweet group of ladies for D-group. It was the beginning of Wednesday lunches at 11 with Kristen. It was wondering about my future. It was getting counsel from Dr. Smith and Dr. Mach. It was counting it all joys.

November was special:

It was coffee dates, so many coffee dates. It was Tuesday lunches at 11 or 1 at Stinger's with Laura. It was card-making, so much card-making, and a new friend to do it with. It was a mentor, a woman mentor for once. It was more meetings with Dr. Smith as well as Dr. Mach, and a sense of peace that accompanied them. It was an unexpected ice storm. It was giggling whilst sitting on the floor and throwing Hershey Kiss wrappers down the hallway in the department building amidst a power outage. It was unexpected text messages that brought so much joy and friendship. It was decorating for Christmas. It was a small stuffed pig wearing a Cedarville sweater. It was running out of exchange meals because I'd had so many wonderful lunch dates. It was a Thanksgiving to be truly grateful for. It was showing Lynette my church. Oh November- how I adored you.

December was a beautiful mess:

It was an unexpected death. It was Starbucks with Cam. It was a 62 degree day, and playing like children at a playground with my roommate. It was learning to laugh at myself as I failed at various things, like making Oreo balls. It was not-so-great news. It was flowers received and hugs given. It was overcoming my hatred of having to use a microphone at the department Christmas party. It was finals. It was a lunch with Dr. Mach and a quick meeting with Dr. Smith that calmed my heart before returning to Maine. It was an impromptu detour to see Carillon Park lit up. It was Lynette staying with me in Dayton later than she needed to, to make sure I started home safely. It was the 86th floor of the Empire State Building with blinding rain, 0% visibility, and 40MPH wind gusts. It was doctor visits. It was a melancholy, but nevertheless blessed Christmas. 

It's been such a trying, but truly good year. 

21 states and 2 Canadian provinces traveled to.

10 sweet friendships made.

13 As achieved in classes.

4 jobs held.

12 months of God's faithfulness.

Who knows what 2019 will bring?

All I know is I am ready for more adventures!!

(...maybe I shouldn't say that...😉)

Laura xx

A Posture of Thankfulness

"Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever!" 

Psalm 107:1

It's just about that time of year again, Thanksgiving approaches quickly.

For the first time in 20 years, I will not be in Maine for it.

You know what though? I'm actually content with it (and never in my life did I ever think I would be able to say that). I will admit that it does feel weird knowing that I will be missing our normal dinner with my Lunn family. Nana has assured me, however, that our day-after-Thanksgiving tradition of decorating the house for Christmas will not occur until I get home around the 15th of December.  I'll instead be heading fifteen minutes southwest to Xenia to celebrate the holiday with Tom & Chris Mach before heading over to Centerville to spend the rest of break with Lynette, Jon, and Jenna. I am so thankful to both the Mach's and Rarick's for being willing to pour into my life.

There are just so many things that I am thankful for this Thanksgiving season, that honestly I don't think I can name them all.

I have blabbed on and on already (to the surprise of many) about how grateful I am to have returned to Cedarville this fall, and to have seen God's hand so evidently in my current situation. Lynette has told me numerous times while hanging out that she cannot believe I am the same person that she met last fall. To have a school so well grounded in the Scriptures and community astounds me nearly every day that I live here. To be involved in a department so full of God-fearing, legitimately caring professors...wowowow.

But my support system is not just here, of course. I would be amiss to not talk about my thankfulness for those back home. Even though I have become more independent of my Main(e) support system, I don't think I would be thriving like I am currently without it.

- My best friend of more than six years, Abbs, is currently pursuing her bachelor's in Communications Writing at Clark Summit University in PA, but distance sure makes the heart grow fonder. Even though we have made new friends and are finding our own, our friendship has not skipped a beat. She is my precious sister, and I am so thankful for the connection we have- I love you sissy (PS- we need to do a Walmart run together during Christmas break.)

- Most nights include a Facetime call with my parents, either separately if Dad is working downstate, or together. Our relationship dynamic has changed immensely, but they are still willing to go the extra mile for me, even with me being 1,200 miles away. The fact that they trust me and trust God with what he is doing in my life is such a blessing. Even though they cannot support me with my college finances, I will forever be grateful that Dad is willing to let me get on Prime once a month and grab various things I need, as I do not get to Walmart often. I know it is hard on them having me away more and more frequently, but they know I'm still their "little Laura string-bean" and that will never change, as old as I get.

- I think people are most surprised to hear that I attempt to get a hour-long conversation in with my Nana every day. The people that really know me, however, know that it is one of the most important parts of my day. My Nana is my best friend, and the impact that her and Papa have had on my life is tremendous. Their impact on so many people in general has been tremendous, even if they do not know it. My separation from them is admittedly the most difficult part about living here in Ohio but we have that mutual understanding that this is the best place for me right now, no matter how hard it is on the three of us.

Nana sends me 2-3 letters each week, and often rags on my Papa for him not writing to me occasionally. I think honestly he just worries that I will not be able to read his handwriting (but if I can decipher the handwriting of my father and Tom Mach, than I can decipher any). Also, if you know my Papa then you also know that he is generally a man of few words, but that when he does speak (other than when he's playing cards...) the words are weighty. Recently at the end of my letter from Nana I found this:

It's just little things that this that remind me that I am so blessed by God.

Dr. White had a phrase that he constantly repeated last year during his sermon series in Proverbs which I had found annoying at first, but it began to weigh on my heart and I realized that it was a truth I needed. If someone had told me this time last year that I would be back here again this year, and not only that, but that I would be content and I would quit being the "world's best escapist?" I would have told them that they were literally crazy cause there was no way in heck that I was returning to Cedarville. But that phrase rings ever true, and I keep it up on my wall so I don't ever forget:

God is faithful, you can trust Him. 

Coming back here was the biggest leap of true faith that I have ever had, I was scared and unsure of what He was doing in my life. Because of it, however, I have so much more to be thankful for this season. God is so good. 

I hope you all have a great Thanksgiving with your families.

Laura xx

Great is Thy Faithfulness

This song has been precious to me ever since I learned it when I was a little girl. As I've struggled with severe anxiety and anxiety-induced insomnia from a really young age, the only thing that seemed to put me to sleep most nights was Selah's Hymns album, which had the song on it. I remember many a night at my paternal grandparents house where my aunt Heidi would play it as I was trying to fall asleep, it always seemed to get my mind to rest and let me sleep.

Last semester, when I went through that solid week-and-a-half running on 2-3 hours of sleep per night due to the absence of my anxiety medication, that was the album that I chose to play as I laid awake in tears. It didn't get me to sleep that time around, but the album and specifically that song kept me reminded of the faithfulness of God and His nature during that intense trial.

I use the song as an illustration, we still sing it every week as we minister to residents at the Good Shepherd Village, and it can be guaranteed that every week I will be reduced to a puddle of tears trying to sing it. I cannot look back at this past year at Cedarville without my heart crying out the chorus.

He has been so faithful.

Being amidst the trials that marked my year at Cedarville last year, I was only able to see the little things that God was doing, and even then sometimes I would refuse to acknowledge them. Most of you are familiar with the context, so I will not delve into the gory details too much. I was just bitter: bitter about finances, bitter about my lack of support in Ohio, bitter about the situation at home...etc. It's so embarrassing honestly to look back because what God was orchestrating was so visible and tactile that in some aspects it couldn't be ignored.

The intentional, loving people that he placed into my life, though some only for a season, helped me realize my own personal failings towards God, and that it was me making myself miserable, and not God spiting me. Faculty, staff, and administration here at Cedarville that have turned into mentors and accountability partners...classmates that have turned into sweet friends...Lynette, though she had grown up with my aunt and uncle, took the time to invest in a fellow County girl who was struggling with her transition to Ohio. Now those along with fellow Dayton Avenue attendees who want to invest in my life through our LifeGroup...

Trips that I've taken over the past year- especially the Providence of God when it came to my difficult spring semester and the week I was able to spend recouping in Florida, when it should have been devastating to miss a week of classes. God has exactly who is needed as our Academic Vice-President, and had it so that I had easy access to him as a professor who poured into my life during that time and made sure that everything was working out with my other professors so I could take a rest.

He has also shown me that I have a solid place here at Cedarville, and that there is not a shadow of a doubt that He placed me here for a reason. You all know that isolation and a sense of not belonging was an overwhelming theme of my last school year. I was confused on what my place was, or if I even had a a place here, period. This year, I am glad to say, has been overwhelmingly different. Now, that is not to say that everything has been sunshine and roses this first quarter, but nonetheless.

There was no real time of "transition" when I got here, and that was the biggest surprise of all. I was back into a routine from pretty much the time that I landed on campus. From the start, doors I had never expected kept being opened to me. I have been able to take on four jobs, including being the research assistant to the History & Gov't Department's Chairman. Most recently, I have been asked to join the Student Advisory Board to the H&G Department. It thrills me to no end to actually be able to interact so deeply with the department and professors I treasure so much. I still don't know why God is blessing me with things such as this, but I thank him daily for it all.

Even when things are tough, when I'm busy from 6:30AM-10PM, or stressed because of exams and papers due, or I am awake until 1:30AM for no known reason, He still shows His faithfulness. Whether it is a friend who randomly texts me to let me know they're praying for me or that they love me, or ask if I want to catch a quick meal. The prof who knows my struggles, and stops me after class and truly wants to know how I am holding up and if he can do anything. My daily phone call with my Nana, where I can lay everything down and just chat and hear her voice. The chapel where we actually sing hymns, or a chapel speaker who shocks me by speaking directly to my heart. My daily walks around Cedar Lake where I can just think and pray for those I see and thank him for this school and campus.

My finances are still not stable. My mental health is still not stable. There are still days where I am vulnerable, and I have to find a public place where I can surround myself with people, for fear of spending a night locked up in my mind.

But through it all, I still find my mind singing to my soul:

All I hath needed, Thy hand hath provided. Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.

Laura xx