Rejection and the Confidence From a Shaken Hand

When I was in high school I had this fear. I still have this fear, but I had it in high school too. 

It's called the fear of rejection. 

Heard of it? 

Well, I was run by it. 

I used to think that people wouldn't like me because of how I looked. I still sometimes think this. 

It was times like when people would hug me, or shake my hand that it would seem more evident. I didn't think people even wanted to touch me, because deep down I felt that people didn't think I was worthy enough to touch, or even hug. I felt that people would be disgusted with me. I wasn't good enough for their "good" hugs, and their "real" handshakes, just their "i'm doing this because I did it to everyone else gestures."

I could see how this mindset changed when I came to LIFE. I began hugging people. People were hugging me. I loved it. I loved "good" hugs. Giving them and receiving them. It seemed that those insecurities somewhat melted away a bit. 

However, until today I didn't realize how much I really wanted the intentional. I wanted someone to be intentional with me. 

Today I introduced myself to a new student. Let me just tell you that this was a great moment today. A very great moment, and you can't rain on my parade. 

I said, "Hey I'm Michelle" and he told me his name, and I kid you not, he shook my hand. Not one of those "I have to do this because you just introduced yourself" or the limp hand, dead fish handshakes. He was intentional and he gave me a firm handshake. 

Let me tell you. All day i walked around with confidence because a man was intentional enough to shake my hand like a real person should. 

People, be intentional with others, you never know how appreciated it might be. 

1261

A number that will always mean the world to me. 

The address of my first real home. 

But that was many, many moons ago. 

From the ages six to seventeen I lived at this moderately sized house of miracles and fun. 

This house was where my worsts took place. 

But it is also the home of many of the bests. 

This house was the place where I learned guitar. 

It is also the place where I hid in my closet and sang to myself trying to be quiet while my parents stood "quietly" outside the door. 

This home was modest, but there was a huge backyard to run around and play. 

A yard big enough so my brother and I could tie a rope to our belt loops and run in opposite directions. (Don't try this). 

It was a safe haven. 

It was a place where I could go home and relax. 

The minute I would walk in the front door and shut it, I would hear the squeak from it's ancient hinges and I knew I was home. 

I would throw down my bags and I would walk to the living room and sit on the couch and take a breath. mmm. Home. 

Home was this house. 

After being ripped from the only safe place I ever knew, it's been hard to get back to that place. That place where I could go and relax, and know that I was home.

Being here at school has changed for me. It doesn't feel like home anymore. It just feels like a pitstop on the way to home. But being the age I am, I don't really know what home means anymore. Is it a place? Or is it a state of mind? Being content? I don't know. 

All i know is I feel anxious. I feel like I need to know where home is. Where I will reside. Where I will feel at home. I hate not knowing. 

I don't want to just follow people on their dreams. But I also don't want to go home and deny that I have any. I want dreams. I also want to have the courage to follow them. To follow them all the way until i finally feel at home. 

After so many years up being ripped up and out, I have been resistant to drop roots anywhere. I need a home. Not one that I have followed someone to. But something that is my own. I want my own 1261. 

Friends

Last night I had the privilege to go out ice skating with a few of my friends and then a bunch of other people that I have never met before.

As we tried our best in balancing and not falling on our butts we not only bonded further, but I got to meet and laugh with people that I didn’t even know.

Now if you know me at all, you know that this is a great success, seeing as i’m an introvert and don’t say much when i’ve just met people.

I went in to this night thinking it could be awkward, but it ended up being a really fun night. One of many to come I hope.

I think that as i’ve grown older, i’ve grown more comfortable with myself and who I am and know that it’s okay to be who I am right away. That I don’t have to ease people into getting to know me. That i should just be myself right away, and if they like me they like me, if they don’t, well, their loss.

I’m not conceited, but i’ve become more confident.

I know that I try my hardest to be a good friend, and to have somewhat good morals. I know that I want to be there for people and to laugh with people and make people feel good about themselves. Who wouldn’t want a friend like that?

This picture is of my roommate (on left) and I (on right) at a dance our school calls “social.” This woman is one of my best friends. Someone who knows me, and laughs with me, and laughs at me. She’s there when I need her and she is cute as hell. I’m glad that she is my friend and that she allows me to be these things with her as well.

Friends are people who allow each other to be who they are, all of who they are, without judgment, laughter maybe, but not judgment.

I enjoy these friendships and I know now that they are something that I need to appreciate more.

My Spare Key

The past few years, i've opened up my car to different people. 

I let them borrow it, as long as they promise not to drive like me. 

Last year, I made the decision to let my roommate have my spare car key. So that if she needed to use my car she could text me and then go ahead and borrow it. When we parted ways for the summer I took it back. 

This year, I gave my spare key to one of my best friends. Just about an hour ago this friend moved out and went home after having achieved her degree. When she left I had to get my spare key back. Now this goodbye was harder than any other goodbye.

It's hard going from a person having your spare key, to them not having it but also them being a whole state away. 

It took me almost two years to even feel comfortable allowing someone to have my spare key. Have as in it's constantly on their key ring. Not a borrowing of the key, but a possession of it. 

Sometimes this is like how I am with my heart. It takes a while for me to get to the point where i'm okay giving my heart to people, or letting them see it at least. I don't like feeling vulnerable. I've prided myself on being the strong one (in public at least). If I cry in front of you, you have seen my heart. This friend had seen my heart. 

I've gotten to the point where sometimes it doesn't seem worth it letting people see my heart. It doesn't seem worth it to let people in and have them just leave and then my heart be exposed. 

I think this is why I don't let people see who I really am until I feel safe, until i feel that they wont hurt me, or expose me. Living like that may shelter my heart, but it definitely doesn't give room for people to get to know me. Sometimes I don't even try. 

It's crazy because i'm harder on myself than anyone else would be. I know that now. I know that the reason I don't let people see my heart is because sometimes I don't think i'm worth it, or that i'm too broken or weird to ever be accepted fully. So that's why when I finally trust people with my heart I expect them "not to drive like me." Because if people treated my heart the way I treat it, it wouldn't survive. 

Maybe one day i'll be able to allow someone access to my heart and not have to think "don't treat it like I do..."

As of today, my spare key hangs next to it's twin on my key ring, and waits for another home. Maybe a comforting home. Maybe a permanent home. 

I don't know what this home may be like, all I know is that I won't have to tell them not to drive like me. They'll just know. 

Climbing the mountain out of the valley.

Today i had a conversation with one of my best friends about our schooling and how we have changed so much since our first year here. 

I used to be this shy girl who was really quiet and never spoke up for herself. 

Now i'm this loud woman who laughs hysterically, and makes sure that my voice is heard. Most of the time. 

I came here hoping to be turned into a worship leader, and every door was shut on that dream for three years, and now doors have been opened for me to pursue it and it seems as though i don't really even want it anymore. 

I came here intending to find something, someone maybe, to take me away from home and now i'm determined to return to my hometown and be there to see my nephew grow up. 

I came here knowing no one, and now i have to say goodbye some best friends as they leave to go across the country, to embark on marriage, or even to just go and start their ministry. 

This past year i have had these friends pour into me and encourage me, and embrace me, and protect me. And now they are leaving. 

They are leaving in this time where i'm not even sure what i want anymore. These two best friends have been the ones to help me out of my ruts, and my dark places. 

And i'm in a rut now. I have no clue what i'm doing with my life. I don't feel passionate about anything at this point and I don't want to do anything more. 

I think that i'm ready though. It always gets to this point, where it's hard to even continue. To move along. 

But i think these three and a half years with friends and God to pull me through and change me and grow me, i think i can make it. I think that with just God i can climb out of this rut, out of this valley that has lasted so long. 

I think that i can do it on my own now. I think that these friends have been so good to me and blessed me so much that now it's my turn. It's my turn to be that blessing to other people. It's my turn to lend my hand in helping people through. It's my turn to finally reach out, go out, and be with people. 

So, as i say goodbye to my dear friends, i'm climbing this mountain out of the valley, and i think i can begin to see the other side. 

Execution.

"Michelle," he told me, "we both knew that wasn't gonna happen."After joking about marrying someone, you don't want to hear this, even if you are seriously joking. This happened to me two years ago, and to be honest I still feel that sting every time I see or talk to him. Our friendship pretty much dwindled after that and now we barely speak. Today, I was sitting in the coffee shop at my school with three engaged couples, and him. He and I were the only single people there. The two couples were joking about all of them being engaged and how him and I should get married. And then he proceeded to tell me "come on Michelle, we're already here." And I just looked at him and said nothing. Because saying nothing was all I could do. I wanted deep down to remark "oh, we both knew that wasn't going to happen." But for some reason, no matter how hurt I was from two years ago, I couldn't execute the comeback that had haunted me since that day. Maybe it's the fact that I understand hurt far too well to inflict it purposefully on anyone else. Or maybe it's just in this situation, and the fact that I couldn't do what he did. I couldn't say what he said to me. Countless times in my life, I've gotten the opportunity to act a certain way or say a certain thing that someone has done to me first and I can't execute it. I just can't. Maybe it's just that I know revenge doesn't feel really great, or maybe it's just that I love certain people too much to return their acts or sayings back to them. All I know is that taking on a lot of hurt and loneliness without being able to get rid of it, has haunted me since I was a child. But maybe that's okay, as long as I choose to give people joy and hope rather than hurt and destruction.

The Three Words That Lose Their Meaning

Lately i've been struggling with three things. 

And those three things happen to profess the one feeling i've never felt for someone special. 

The words I, Love, and You have this strange meaning when they are all strung together. All by their lonesome they are just words, but put together in the right order and you get a love professed. 

I've never loved a man. At least i don't think i have. Not yet anyways. 

I love my friends. I love my family. I love movies. I love a lot of things. But sometimes saying it just doesn't seem right. 

Countless times friends have said "i love you" to me, and out of habit i say " i love you too." 

It's not that i don't love them, or that it's annoying to say. But i feel like the more i say it to others, the more it loses it's meaning. When i finally get to a place where i can string those meaningless words together and utter them with full confidence and feeling to the man i've been waiting my whole life for, i want it to mean everything. 

I remember when i had my first and only boyfriend (of only a day) and he said "i love you" to me three hours after we starting "going out." This is not love. And it wasn't love when i typed them back to him right after. It was a response. It was automatic. 

Saying "i love you" shouldn't be automatic. Or a way to ease the pain of an insult. Saying "i love you" should be a way of telling a person that you care for them deeply, that they are a friend or someone special in your life. "I love you" is not a way to get what you want, it is a way to express how you truly feel about a person; you love them.

When i say these words i usually mean them, but even in my life it has become an automatic response. "I just love you!" -They will say, and i will just reply "i love you too." At those moments, i don't even really think about it, i just say it. It doesn't take away the fact that i do feel those things. But i need to be more intentional about it.

God gave us His love, and He gave us the ability to love others. Lets not take it for granted by speaking empty words, but let us mean love when we speak them, and not just respond out of habit. All i know is that in my life, i really don't want those words to lose their meaning.

To move...or not to?

So, today was a big tornado of happiness, confusion, and hope. 

I walked up into my quad after my three hour class and set my stuff down in my room, and i hear from my quadmates room, "Hey Michelle! Do you want to move into an apartment?" Um Yes! Was my reaction in my mind. 

It took me so off guard that i legitimately couldn't answer for a few minutes. I was so stuck on the idea of how cool it would be. I was walking about my room trying to clean up, and i couldn't get it off my mind. Could i do it? 

So i walked into her room and sat down and we started talking about it. I said that i wasn't leaving my roommate so she'd have to come, and obviously that was okay with her. 

We talked prices, and pros and cons and it started weeding it's way into my mind and heart, this idea of moving out and living in an apartment that i could call home. But we've tried this before and it didn't work out. 

Last year my roommate and I were going to get an apartment with my now roommate and another friend. It didn't end up working out, and guess what? Neither of those girls came back to school anyways. Can you say dodged a bullet? Yeah, i thought so. 

But this is different. I'm six months from graduating. Then i can leave. If i want. 

This would be a big step, and it could propel me into legitimate adulthood, instead of putting all my weight on this college that's felt more like a bubble than anything. I think i need to do it. 

I need to move. I need to take this next step into my adult life. This could be a domino effect that throws me into real life. 

It's exciting, and scary, and it's growing up. So i'm going to do it. I'm going to take the step, and i'm going to move. 

If my finances allow for it, and the pros outweigh the cons which they have so far, i'm going to move into an apartment and have my own apartment by the end of the month. 

This is crazy.

But i'm doing it. I'm so excited! 

There is one thing I have noticed

Through reading other blogs.Through self discovery and fighting to stay true to myself. Hoping in my dreams and loving those around me. Forcing honesty to seep through my pores. Self improvement and self love. I have noticed one thing. I have a hope, That my time will come. I just have to be patient. I have to work at it with everything that is within me. And eventually it will be here. Eventually my time will come.

Transparent

Now that i've got myself all comfortable on my couch; room clean, tv show on, and the dorm doors unlocked to everyone. 

I can relax. 

Now that i've hidden every flaw of our room, every dirty sock, every chord sticking out from in front of the tv. 

Now that I'm "dressed" in my Halloween costume. 

Now that i have everything hidden that i don't want people to see.

I can show people the side of me that may not be so revolting. 

I think this is my life in a nutshell. 

I only walk out of my room into the world after i have hidden the blemishes, the belly pouch, the frizzies, the puffy eyes and possibly my frown. 

Why is it that i feel i have to be perfectly put together twenty-four seven? 

Why do we all think that?

Do we really think the world can't handle our bad sides? Our dark sides even? 

If we think people can't handle bad moods, a little bit of frizzy hair and sometimes the occasionally pimple, then we are destined to be a nuisance and alone for all of our lives. 

Think about it, i open up to only my close friends. But what if even they couldn't handle my faults, my flaws? 

I would wonder through, day by day, trying to deal with every frustration, every thought, all alone. 

What kind of world would this be? 

That's why i'm thankful that i have even those friends that will listen to my ramblings that don't always make sense. I'm thankful that i can be transparent with them, and sometimes cry in their arms for no good reason. 

Sometimes i wish i were more transparent, and open, and comfortable with people outside of these people i call close friends. 

What would the world be if we were all transparent and completely comfortable with one another, rather than trying to hide the faults and the ridiculous quirks that make us who we are? 

Let us be ourselves in a world of people always striving to be someone else. 

Let us be original, somewhat weird, and completely against conforming. 

Let us be transparent.

Mom and I Are Very Proud of You.

The words i so desperately needed to hear. 

"Mom and I are very proud of you." - My Dad. 

I used to be so scared of what my father thought. Not to the point of not doing what i loved, but to an extent, i was a little scared to dream. 

I grew up in a pretty stable household. I went to church with my mother, and my father would come occasionally when i would be in a play or sing at church. But other than that, he didn't really have a connection with my loving music and being on the worship team. 

I had sports with him. He played caught with me, and helped coach my little league team. 

I think our relationship kind of fell apart a bit when i became a teenager and was just upset at the world all the time, and went through the stage of being annoyed with my mom. And of course my notorious attitude. 

Well. All heck broke loose when we weren't financially stable anymore. They couldn't pay the house payment, and our home for twelve years was auctioned out from underneath us. 

Every since then, and probably a little bit before then, i've had it said to me multiple times that i need a good job so i could be financially stable. So of course it didn't come as a big shock that when i voiced my desire to go to a christian college and minor in music my dad wasn't necessarily happy about it. Not happy and not supportive are two very different things i guess.

I went through my first two years of college thinking that my dad didn't support me. I was afraid to talk to him and tell him anything about payments, or what would happen after, because to be honest i have no clue what is going to happen after. 

And now that i might be going to Massachusetts when i graduate it's even harder because i'll be on the other side of the country. 

I got an email from him tonight asking what city i would be in when i move to Mass, because he wants to check out places they could stay in an RV when they come visit. I told him it wasn't a for sure thing, that i'm still waiting to figure it out to see if it's right. And he just tells me that "if it makes it easier for you, follow your heart and love what you do, for passion is the key to success." Then he ends the message with "Mom and I love you so much and are very proud of you." 

It's crazy how you can go so long thinking that someone doesn't support you. My father just told me to follow my heart, and to follow my passion. I've never heard him say this to me before, it's usually more like "you should be an accountant."

This is such a bittersweet email. My father has finally silenced my doubts about my dreams, and told me to basically go for it. And he has told me he is proud of me. But it also means that i'm leaving, and won't be with them all the time. 

I know that it may suck not to see them. But my very black and white, must be a logical, steady, stable job, dad just gave me the green light to follow my dreams. I'm not going to stop now. 

I Move to Be With My Father

Chapel today was a huge wake up call. Well, at least more than usual. 

This woman spoke about her experience with going to Indonesia to love on women who are being sold into prostitution daily. 

After telling us this amazing story of love and compassion, she reads a letter she wrote to the school about compassion. 

A letter that is full of conviction to move. A letter that told the whole school that we need to move out with compassion. 

We need to be where the Father is. 

Like in the story of the Prodigal Son, the other son who stayed and was faithful, though he was doing what his father was asking of him, his father wasn't even there. The son was in the house doing who knows what, and the father was moved by compassion to go to his returning son and to celebrate his coming home. 

She spoke about this moving because of compassion. She tells us that we all desire this comfortable home, but that God will not be there, he won't give us this comfort. He wont be in the house with the fireplace and the warm cozy couch. He will be out in the road in the wind, waiting for us to follow because of compassion, to follow because we know the Lord isn't there anymore. God has moved, and we need to follow Him with compassion. 

Yesterday, i was speaking to one of my pastors, the one from Massachusetts. And i basically poured out my heart to her telling her i had no idea what i was going to do. Then she asked what my options were, and i told her either go to Massachusetts where every bit of me would be stretched and shaped and grown, or go home. At home i would have the comfort of my family and my friends, but at Massachusetts i would be where i would grow.

I told her that in the past, i've always made decisions that would cause the most growth. This message was the perfect thing that i could have heard today. The "home" that this woman spoke of today, is the city of Hollister for me. The smooth country road, and the past, and everything i know. And going out, is this place in Massachusetts, where i would finally be forced to start living my dreams, where i would move to be with my Father. I can't stay in Hollister because that's not where my Father is anymore, He's moved out, and moved on to more, and i need to follow Him. Because if there is one thing i will always do in my life, i move to be with my Father.  

Dream With Me

Today i was in my Organizational Dynamic class. It may sound boring... and well, it kind of is sometimes, but this class was actually interesting. 

We talked about certain types of motivational theories in the organizations. Motivation, something that propels you to do something. Kind of. 

So, i'm sitting there in class and i'm thinking about my future, and how i basically expect these opportunities to be handed to me. I want to be a recording artist, but i'm not perfecting my songs or trying to record them on my school's campus where it's free. I want to be a writer, but i've yet to finish any of the books i've started writing. And i have an amazing opportunity to go to Massachusetts, and i'm expecting some other thing to come along and take my mind off of the overly humid but lovely home of the Patriots. 

I need to get off my butt and do something. I need to make decisions, and make plans, and work harder than i am. 

I need to charge forward and hope for the best. I need to have faith that once i throw myself out there that everything i need will be provided for if i make room for God to provide. I need to plant the seeds and wait for the rain. I need to prepare for what God is going to bring. 

So as i'm sitting there in my classroom, i have this surge of motivation. This motivation that nothing can stop me. That i know whatever decision i make i can still live my dreams if i work really hard to make them happen. 

Dreams don't fall into your lap. Is basically what i've been learning this year. Dreams don't just happen. You will rarely find someone who tells you they are living their dreams, but didn't do anything to get there. 

So this is the beginning. This is where the motivation starts. Where i can begin to live my dreams, by working my butt off to get there. 

Doubting A Promise That Was Never Said

Last night i wrote a song in hopes that it could be used for some random low budget movie. 

It's called "For David." There is a story behind that, and i will get to that right now.

In freshmen year of high school (i think), i wanted to know who my future husband was. I know, hopeless at such a young age.

Well, i prayed to God before i went to bed, i asked him to give me a dream of my future husband.

And, well, he did, at least i thought.

There was this guy, dark hair, bright eyes, looking down at me with admiration. What i've always wanted. To be loved for being me. And from what it seemed in my dream, he did. And his name was David.

I had this dream once. Once. And i've held on to it for almost seven years. I'm twenty-one now, and i've never had a legit boyfriend, and i've also never been kissed. At this point i could care less. No really i COULD care less, because i care a lot.

I wish i cared less is what i'm trying to say.

But about this song. I finally spoke out what i felt. I wrote the song for someone else's story, with my feelings. I pour out my heart for the past seven years. Wanting to know this guy that i met in my dreams. Wanting to see him in person, or finally meet him so we can start our life together.

As i wrote the lyrics to "For David" i realized that i kind of always knew that the dream i had that night was from my subconscious. Right? Am i wrong to think that? I've lived this way for such a long time. Wondering if it's a promise in the form of a dream, or if it was just my mind and David will be stuck in there forever. I doubt it. I doubt that he's real, everyday. Whenever i see someone who slightly resembles him, i get anxious and then can't even bring myself to talk to them.

It's like this dream has completely given me this hope for a man in the future, but has also crippled me to the point where if he did exist i would never talk to him.

This song acknowledges the fact that it's all a dream. But pours out the need for it to be real. The need for this person on the other side to be seen in real life. To be found.

The bridge says this:

"As i run, i will disappear into the sun. Just to get to you, another dimension. I'll fly for years in the sky, just to find you. I've gotta find you." 

The lyrics are a bit weird, but how else do you expect to find someone who only exists in your dreams?

Now, i'm not fantasizing about some guy in my dream. I'm just telling a story. A story of a young girl who had a dream, that may or may not have been a promise from God. Or at least a good enough answer to hold me over until i was old enough to understand the truth. 

Year after year, i have had it drilled into my brain that there is no such thing as "the one." That we choose who we want to be with, and we work hard to make it love, and make the marriage work. After every mouth that opened to tear down my dreams of "the one" little by little, David started to disappear. 

I want to say that i would wait for David. But he's not real. Not that i know of at least. So i give up. 

I give up. And i let him go, after seven years. 

Wow. Who was to know that this is where this blog post would turn up. Me giving up on a dream that i thought was a promise. 

Giving it back to God, as he graciously gave me sweet dreams that night, and hoping that when the time comes, i will choose someone who truly makes me happy. 

I know that there will always be David. But he was just a dream. 

Movies

I'm sitting on the couch in my dorm room, alone, contemplating my life... like always. 

When i glance over at my shelf full of movies. At least seventy of them, all waiting to be borrowed, watched, and put back to collect dust. 

I don't know when my obsession started, probably somewhere around freshmen year. When i discovered that Target had five dollar movies, and i had a steady pay check. Buy three at a time and seventy movies later you have a mini collection that you don't really watch all the time. 

Think about it, you have your favorites, but then all of the other ones just sort of sit there, neglected. It's sad. 

But it doesn't stop you from grabbing more and taking them to the checkout on black Friday. I mean... Not that you guys do that. 

You see, i realize all this, and yet i still have this weird thing where i want them. I want the movies that make me laugh. I want to see the stories that make you cry because they are so beautiful. I desire to see fighting scenes with aliens and superheroes flying through New York where the Tesseract is on the top of the Stark Tower. I LOVE being a nerd. I love having the Harry Potter movies (one day soon i will have the Star Wars collection as well). I love the idea of having movie nights with friends and having movies to choose from. People connect and relate to movies (most of the time). They come together and spend ten bucks to watch them on a huge screen for dates or even just by themselves (It's not weird guys!!) 

I understand that these are just movies. They aren't real life, even the ones based off of a true story are a little skewed. But i think that is where i find the beauty in it. People were so creative and so imaginative to come up with these movies that move other people to dream. Of course not all movies were made with such imagination, but you get my point. I think i love movies so much because of the wonderful stories i get to remember. I know that even though the movies i have sometimes sit and collect dust, they will always be sitting there waiting for me when i need a good laugh, or a good cry. 

Sometimes i watch movies to lose myself in them, and take a little break from reality, and that's alright. But if you're anything like me, you sometimes think that movies are unrealistic (but i totally love them anyways). Movies aren't real life, i know, i get it. But that does not mean that you can't dream the way the people in movies do, and it does not mean that good things only happen to people in movies. Good things happen to those who strive to make them happen. Even the actors in the movies had to work hard and audition for those roles. Every movie is an inspiration in the fact that so much work was put in to having it made. 

This is why i love movies so much. Let me just encourage you to go grab your favorite movie, and just take a break from reality for a while. Get lost in a wonderful movie, and dare to dream. 

Why am i here?

I'm sitting here in the Loop, our campus coffee chop. I'd call this post coffee shop revelations too, but see, this is where i'm looking for answers, not finding them. 

This weekend is preview weekend here at Life Pacific College, high school students galore. 

I see excited faces, people talking excessively about how they are going to love it when they come here. 

Here i am a senior in college, and i'm wondering what i'm doing here. 

I take classes because i have to. The only classes i've been remotely interested in were art, music, or counseling. 

And there were multiple classes that were a flop because the teacher wasn't super interesting. 

I am a senior in college, and i don't remember why i came here. 

Well i remember wanting a music and worship minor, and then getting here to find out they took away the minors. 

And now they are bringing back a worship major. The year after i leave. 

I mean, maybe God somehow worked it out to where i wouldn't take a worship major or minor. I don't know. 

All i know is that i'm going to graduate with a degree that i partially don't understand, and a pastoral license that i don't even intend to use in any formal setting at a church. 

I want to be a worship leader. I grew up loving music. 

I led worship in high school with my youth pastor. 

Maybe i didn't need those classes or minors or majors to understand what worship leading is. 

Maybe being trained so closely by my youth pastor gave me all the knowledge i need.

Maybe, i'm already a worship leader...

I don't know honestly. 

But i'm graduating, and i don't know why i'm here, or where i'm going. 

I know i'm going to get there, and i know that i'll have a degree. 

But i don't have this strange passion to learn like most people here. 

I've realized in the past months and even year, that i basically paid 40K to come to this school, to come out of my shell.

Ask anybody in my quad, or anyone who knows me even just a little bit, and they will tell you that i've come so far. 

I'm not shy like i used to be. I've found out stuff about myself that i never would have otherwise. 

I am more confident. I became closer to God. 

And at this point, i may not know what i'm going to do with my life, but i know who i am. 

I am a daughter of our Lord. 

I love. I'm alive in Christ. I am stronger than i thought. I was made for more than i could ever imagine. I get so scared about what is going to happen after i graduate and i need to keep reminding myself that i was made for more than i could ever imagine, and i know that whatever i do, it's going to be completely amazing, because God is in it, and he wouldn't have me do anything that wasn't on my heart. 

I came to LIFE, and i found myself. I found God. I found lifelong friends. I found meaning. And i found out that i was made for more.

40K well spent. 

Where is home?

Is home where you were born? 

Is home where your family is?

Is home where your friends are?

Is home where your heart leads you to to make you grow?

Is home where you interned once, and felt like you were living your dreams leading worship and you can't forget any face that you encountered there?

Guys, i'm struggling. Really bad. 

I think i wanted to just back out. 

I have this amazing opportunity to go back to Massachusetts and do a year long program, or maybe stay longer, and i am thinking about turning it down. Am i running? 

I have no idea. 

While i was there the pastor gave a sermon about how God gives us freedom to choose where we go and sometimes, either choice is good, and either choice could make us happy. 

Knowing this, i think i wanted to just go home. I wanted to forget i ever fell in love with the people in Massachusetts and just get on with my life, two streets away from my beautiful nephew. 

I wanted to be by my family, and know that i'll have a safe place to come home to. And i want to keep my wonderful couch. 

But i had made my decision! I told people, i didn't want to go back. 

But then why am i still haunted by dreams of me returning to my church family in Massachusetts and being completely content? 

So i pull up the program poster, the poster for the program i helped set up, with intentions of going back. And i'm completely broken, and i feel a need to keep myself up all night just to make this decision. 

I actually just took time to see how long of a drive it would be from Washington where i'll be attending a friends wedding. 

It's like i want to, but i'm afraid. 

I'm afraid of moving on with my life. Leaving this place i gave four years of my life to. 

Leaving the reach of my parents. 

Not seeing my nephew for a very long time. Maybe once a year. 

It breaks my heart. But i'm thinking i can do it. I can at least give up a year of my life and see if i can do it. 

It will take honesty with how i feel. It will take pulling myself up by my bootstraps. And it will most definitely take a box of tissues when i tell my mother. It will take faith. But i think that is what is most important at this point. Having faith, that God is going to work it all out, no matter what state i'm in.

I think i know. I think i've always known. I also think that they always knew. That i would be coming back. 

The Risk of Raising Your Hand, Or Following Your Dreams

I sit here waiting. As the nerves come to the surface I try to slow my breathing and I try to stop my hands from shaking violently. It came to my realization that I was completely ridiculous and that I needed to get over myself. But, nevertheless, my time came. The Teacher asked who wanted to go next, and what did I do? I raised my hand.

I’m an introvert. I’m an internal processor, and I like small groups and sometimes being in class with a lot of people stresses me out. But there is one very important thing you need to know about me. I never raise my hand. Never. Usually I just wait to be called on or for the conversation to come my way, but never do I command the floor, or in this case by raising my hand, the whole class. But I did it. I raised my hand. I actually faced my fears of speaking in class and having all eyes, rather ears, on me. I shared my thoughts, and the teacher agreed. “Yes!” I thought to myself, “you did it! You raised your hand in class and got everything out that you wanted to say!” Then guess what happened?

 Another Student Disagreed. As if it wasn’t hard enough to raise my hand and talk in class, I had to sit through someone critiquing my answer. Excuse me, I just went out on an extremely long limb here and you are criticizing my opinion. Then I realized, this always happens. In fact, this happens to everyone, not just to me.

We will live our whole lives overcoming fears, or taking risks and then come to find that not everyone agrees with us. So what! I sat there feeling like this person was completely tearing me down, when really he just didn’t agree with something I said, he wasn’t tearing me down, he was explaining why he didn’t agree with what I said.

Just because he didn’t agree with me doesn’t mean I need to stop raising my hand. If someone doesn’t agree with you it’s not the end of the world. In my case, if I let this guy discourage me to the point where I never raise my hand again, what happens to everything else in my life? Can you imagine if someone disagreed with my desire to play music, or to write teen fiction and I was just like, “shoot, they disagree, I shouldn’t do it.”

I have dreams, and those dreams are really risky. I have a voice and things to say with that voice, if someone doesn’t approve of what really matters to me am I just going to stop using my voice?

Where there is obedience, there will be opposition. I interned at a church this summer, and the pastor spoke on the obedience of the Holy Spirit. This message was all I thought about today while debating writing this post. When we are obedient to the Holy Spirit, there is going to be opposition to try and set back the will of God; that was the bulk of the message. Well, I thought maybe my raising my hand and actually speaking up and using my voice was my being obedient to the Holy Spirit. Which means the discouraging feeling I got from the guy disagreeing with me was the opposition.

 In my decisions in life, I will always look for opposition, and charge right on through. Because of this message, and even this experience I had today, I know that life is going to throw some big things to try and get in the way of my dreams. I need to know in those times, to not listen to others criticism (unless it’s constructive), but rather listen to my heart, and walk in the knowledge that God has given these dreams to me for a reason. The enemy will try everything he can to derail them if they will bring gory to God’s kingdom.

Always Hope

I thinks humans are just made to be able to withstand pain.This is just my opinion, obviously, that's what blogs are for, opinions, or crazy random happenstances. But anyways. Yes, I do believe that God made humans to be able to withstand great and severe amounts of pain. Especially women. But that's all I'm going to say about that. You see, I hear all these stories about people and how they got a certain scar. And it's funny now, or at least it's a story to talk about. Isn't that what going through things is about? The story? The experience? The gain? It's hard to come to terms with the fact that we desperately need pain in our lives. We need the struggle. It's the only reason we grow. It's the only reason we prosper. It's the only way we see the light. We've felt pain, we've been in droughts, and we've walked in darkness. Then when we FINALLY see that little sliver of light, that hope that we have desperately needed, we sling shot forward, out of the darkness, the pain, and the drought. We can see the light and appreciate its beauty. And then somehow, all the suffering and the pain from being in the dark all seems worth it. And you have a story. And you've felt the hope and the warmth of light on your skin, so when you fall back into another darkness that's somehow even more pitch black, you have something to hold on to. But this time is different, even though it may seem harder, you now have the hope and you know it won't last forever, because you've seen the light before and you know it's there. So we all have these stories, and the dark times, and after every time our hope gets stronger and the light gets brighter and all together these stories complete our lives. Life spent in the pain that our being was made so wonderfully to withstand, and even in this pain, there is hope. Always hope.

Liebster Blog Award Nomination

Well, it appears as though i have been nominated for something. 

I would like to thank not only my roommate, but also my favorite blog who nominated me imjusttryingtolive.

The award has to do with getting to know bloggers better, and the rules are this:

1. You must link back to the person who nominated you.
2. You must answer the 10 Liebster questions given to you by the nominee before you.
3. You must pick 10 bloggers to be nominated for the award with under 200 followers.
4. You must come up with 10 questions for your nominees to answer.
5. You must go to their blogs and notify your nominees.

Okay, so i will try my best to do all these things.. I'm not even sure i know 10 bloggers. And i can't renominate someone who has been nominated already. So anywhoozers. 

Here are the questions Sara asked me:

1.) Why did you start blogging?
         I originally started this blog for many reasons. One of them being, I got too addicted to Tumblr and had to have something that didn't constantly have pretty pictures and funny gifs to always distract me from my homework, and my life. Two, blogs are somewhat cooler than just writing in your journal, it's a way to be vulnerable with people by sharing your heart. And lastly, i think i just got to the point where i wanted to share my life with people, whether they know me in person or not. 

2.) What is your favorite adventure idea?
         I think my favorite adventure idea would be just being completely spontaneous. Like i stated in my last blog post, i used to be spontaneous. It would probably be the best thing to just be someone who would be willing to just go when someone asks. I love going on adventures that include driving. I can see myself traveling a few states away with a friend, or maybe even flying to a random country that is chosen at the airport. Spontaneity all the way.
 
3.) What country would you live in if you could live anywhere?
         This question is going to get such a biased answer. Italy. I'm Italian, you all probably didn't know that. I would have gotten around to telling you anyways. But yes, I Michelle Wheelus, am a quarter Italian. I would love to go see the beautiful Italy. Venice would be pretty amazing i think. Maybe i'll meet a hot Italian man. ;) 

4.) What would you do if all your bills were covered, so you had no debt, and you had an extra $100,000?
         HA! Easy! I would buy the 1966' Mustang coupe that i've always wanted, baby blue, maybe stick, but it should probably have a nice stereo because of my love for music. Which brings me to the other thing i would get, the Gibson guitar i've always wanted. It's 3,000 dollars and i would never be able to justify buying it if i didn't have a buttload of money left. Then with the left over money, i would plan roadtrips, traveling in Europe, and independently releasing my own record. I may have gone over 100,000..... oooops .

5.) What superpower do you wish you had?
        I think it would be pretty awesome to be able to just learn. Think about it. Someone just hands you a guitar and minutes later you're a pro. What if you became like a pro at everything... Well, that actually would be no fun. Scratch that, TELEPORTATION!

6.) Why do you believe what you believe?
         The reason i believe what i believe is because of experience, usually. I believe in God, because i've experienced His love. I believe in love, because i've been completely immersed in it since the day i was born. I believe in life, because it was given to us so graciously. I believe in second chances, because i love people and know they are only human and they make mistakes. I don't, however, believe in fifth chances, because i'm not stupid. 

7.) What are you passionate about?
           I am passionate about almost everything. I think at this point i'm just passionate about life and i'm happy i get to have big dreams. I'm passionate about music, and beauty in the world. I'm passionate about the noise the toaster makes when it pops my Eggos up toasted to perfection. I'm passionate about the needle in my speedometer passing eighty-five. I'm passionate about the friends i have and dreaming of the future and the wonders it holds. Lastly, i'm passionate about Jesus, and why he came and died to give us all grace. I'm passionate about the life he gives. 

8.) What is you favorite movie?
           See, i could answer this question, but then i would have to subject the rest of my movie collection to being second best. And i just don't think i want to do that to them. 

9.) What is your fondest memory?
             My fondest memory huh? Well. I can't think of just one. Because to be honest, i don't have one super great memory that i always have when i think of the best times in my life. But the best times in my life would have to be when i'm sitting around with a group of friends just laughing. Obviously not at nothing. But you know those times where there is some huge joke and you all CANNOT stop laughing, and then you just end up laughing at other peoples laughs. And it's just this huge laugh fest? Well, those would be my favorite memories. But i actually did just think of a pretty good moment that does take the cake. =] The first time i heard my nephew laugh. I love laughter if you hadn't noticed. 

10.) Who was your first friend?
           My first friend was my best friend for years. Her name is Rachel. We're still Facebook friends, but we did drift apart. We used to play Dance Dance Revolution all the time, and we did our first talent show together in front of the whole school and it was completely humiliating. We went through a lot together and she was a wonderful first best friend. 

Here are the only people i follow with less that 200 followers:

Love Thy Introvert

Ryann Kunst

On A Mission

But they are also the ones i would have picked anyways ;) 

So my questions for you three. 

1. What's your favorite season and why?
2. What prompted you to start writing?
3. What are your two biggest passions?
4. If you could take a free flight anywhere right now, where would it be?
5. If there was a fire, and you could only grab three things from your house, what would you grab and why?
6. What is your favorite thing to do with friends?
7. If you had full control over your future, and had all the money to make your dreams come true, what would your future plans look like?
8. What is your favorite band?
9. What is your favorite joke that you tell everyone?
10. What is your favorite blog and why?