Beauty From the Ashes- Part 2

"When I thought, 'My foot slips,' your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up. When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul."

Psalm 94: 18-19

(This is Part 2 of a series that will continue on into May, you can find part 1 here.)

It is kind of amusing, because when I first sat down to write this post about April 2018, I had a pretty gilded view of it. (Gilded- hah, get it? My area of history, the Gilded Age? I shouldn't be allowed to make jokes...) That changed when I went back through my journal and other writings from the month. I had forgot how truly difficult the month had been, at least for the first three weeks of it. The month began on Easter Sunday down in Niceville, Florida with my grandparents and favorite aunt and uncle. However, the very next day I found myself travelling once again on a Greyhound Bus, this time back to a school where I had an uncertain future. Sure, the Lord had already worked in great ways, but I was still returning to a mess.

At that point, I was resigned to the fact that I would be getting Bs in at least two of my classes. Now, to normal people, that would be fine...but for me, that just added to the pain I was feeling. I could tell that most of my professors were not exactly "on my side" and were not impressed with me. That combined with still not sleeping well and some financial issues, yikes. Life was a trip. It actually didn't begin to turn around until the last week of the month. That was one wild week, but it changed my course completely.

Monday, I had an interview planned with Tom Mach about the book he wrote about ten years ago. I had taken US History II that semester with him, and was literally heartbroken that I would never have him as a professor again. [Okay, first of all, this little aside does not have anything to do with Tom, but this was also the day that I fell in love with Founders Hall. The first floor is literally magical.] BACK TO THE STORY. It was through this interview that I was realised like, "Woah...this dude is legit." Like, he'd already helped me that semester, but I was literally...in millennial terms, "shook." He actually gave a crap about me, and my mental health. He took me seriously. This was the first instance where I had remorse for the decision I'd made to leave Cedarville.

The next instance was that Wednesday. I'd gone to chapel and sat with my beloved "BBBBBBs" AKA my "Balding, but biblically based Bible bros." (Some of the profs from our Bible department I used to sit with.) It was Senior chapel, but since I was leaving as well (albeit in different circumstances) I felt the message geared towards me. Dr. Estes spoke with such wisdom, and he ended his message singing a song that had been the song of my soul that entire semester, "Be Still My Soul." It is a song that still drives me to tears just hearing the first few bars. I felt the Lord speaking to me, and I just broke down into tears right there in my chapel seat. The Bible professors sitting with me noticed my distress, and prayed over me after chapel.

I didn't want to leave.

On Thursday my best friend, Abby McDole, returned from her semester in Spain. On Friday we reunited and spent the afternoon together in Xenia catching up. Her return brought even more guilt upon my heart. I'd already told her whilst she was in Spain that I wouldn't be returning, ruining a lot of our plans for the future. Now that she was back...it made me not want to leave even more. 

Saturday was the final straw. Abby and I got brunch before going shopping for me, as I didn't really have any "cool" clothes to wear to Elliv, an annual Cedarville variety show (remember, I dress like I'm already fifty). My heart was just absolutely restless during the entire day. We went to Elliv like we were going to that night, but I couldn't focus on it. The Lord decided that that night was the time for Him to grab my attention 100%. In the middle of the show, I had to get up and leave because I knew that I was going to break down. My head was spinning because I wanted to stay, but I didn't really want to stay. I knew the Lord was calling me to stay, but there were no certainties about anything, everything was planned for me to leave and never return. I'd been shipping all my stuff home, I'd applied to UMPI...it was going to be a mess no matter what. So I called my dad crying my eyes out because I didn't know what to do. But I told him that most likely I would end up staying at Cedarville.

Sunday, I went to Dayton Avenue for the first time, and it clicked. For the first time since I'd come out to Cedarville, I felt at home in a church. Blessings upon blessings upon blessings. I still love that church, and my church family (especially my Veritas family) with my whole heart. And that next day, I withdrew from my withdrawal interview (oh, the irony) and told Abby about my crazy change of plans.

One week. Just one week. It changed the course of my entire life, literally.

That was April. Thinking through my twenty-one years of life, I'm not sure I've ever had a month quite like that April. 

I am so grateful for that April, and for what the Lord did. I'll be finishing up this miniseries next month.

Laura xx

Beauty from the Ashes: Part 1

"You have turned for me my mourning into dancing: you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness, that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever!"

Psalm 30:11-12

(This is Part 1 of a series that will continue on into April and May.)

Today marks the one-year-anniversary of the time that I almost dropped out of Cedarville. Like, was about to hit up the Registrar's Office, and by the grace of God I was stopped in my tracks. I had been at my literal wit's end, and in my sleeplessness-induced state of psychosis, had not been sure I could even live. It was my lowest point, but God brought me up from it; slowly, but surely.

Not everything was solved immediately, and that's why this will be a three-part series. No amount of help I received made things perfect, though I should mention that I would not be here at Cedarville, or maybe even alive if I had not received that help. I stumbled the rest of the semester in a few of my classes, and I had to work my butt off and intentionally work on my relationship with the Lord to make it through the rest of that semester. However, that gracious allowance of the Lord to let me leave Cedarville for almost two weeks at the end of March to get me back in a place where I could work on my mental and spiritual health was major. 

I've learned a lot, and I am still learning from that dark March, and especially from that day. Most of all, I've learned that I cannot simply cure mental illness by denying that I suffer from it and stopping medication. Sure, I can be pretty convincing with appearances. And I am not denying that I truly am that type-A, driven person who loves her cardigan/shell/pearls combo that people see most of the time. But I had to accept that I am also a person who has to fight daily random panic attacks, is prone to bouts of depression, and some days can only bring myself to throw on some mascara and a baggy sweatshirt. Also that I take medication for a reason, and I do myself more harm than good when I quit it cold turkey.

I also learned, and am still learning that vulnerability is something that needs to happen, but not everyone is going to like my vulnerability or accept me for it, and I need to be okay with that. Mental illness is still fairly taboo in Christian circles. I sent a fairly vulnerable mass email to my professors on the 24th of March explaining my situation and why I would be leaving campus for nearly two weeks in the middle of the semester. I had a total of two professors (Mach and Murdoch) who I felt saw me as more than a letter grade, and actually reached out to help me. Despite how far that set me back in my trust of people, it has helped me grow. Just because some people will not be okay with my vulnerability, it doesn't mean I need to lie and act like I am fine 100% of the time. I am still working on this, and will continue to be, but praise the Lord for those people who I know will walk along with me even when I am a blubbering mess, and for those who currently walk along with me.

I left for Florida on March 25th, and while it was an adjustment for me getting back on my medication and keeping on top of schoolwork, my wild spirit was able to be soothed during the time spent with my grandparents at Michael & Cheryl's house.

I'll be back in April to reminisce about April of 2018. It was another month filled with intense struggle, but it was also the month in which God changed me radically and called me out into faith like I had never experienced before. I can't wait to delve into that, but I wanted to make sure I gave context.


Laura xx

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