Because I tan so quickly

You tell me it's not fair that I tan so quickly.

But do you know the price I have to pay, because I look this way?

You say you want my skin - but would you want it for more than a day.
Is it worth it when the security guard follows you around.
Because of the color of my skin, I'm bound.

You say that I'm lucky that my skin is still dark in the winter.

But have I ever told you that it makes me bitter.
Because I've been told that my whole life white skin is better.
You tell me that the exotic look is in.
But my skin is not a trend.
Do you know how long it takes to mend,
 years of self doubt, years of being left out.

You tell me that I'm so lucky to be bilingual.
But do you know the price I've had to pay.
Learning the language so I could earn my stay
 In this country.
Not knowing my home.
Feeling alone.
Because I am here.
But my roots are elsewhere.
Do you know how much I long,
 to not feel wrong
 to not be wronged

Because I tan so quickly.

Have you ever felt judgement come down so swiftly.

Because you tan so quickly.

Have you ever felt fear knowing you're not wanted here.

Because you tan so quickly.

Has fairness ever seemed like just a fairytale, meant for the fairest (skinned) of them all.
Have you ever had to be two in one.
Playing the game, acting like it's fun.
Pretending to be white, knowing it's a show.
But if you slow,
 then you are left behind.
Because the world is not kind,
 when you tan so quickly.

Have you ever yearned
 when you learned
 that heaven is made of people
 not like the ones you see in the steeple.
Every tongue, tribe, and nation.
Here is where my hope lies, in this station.

Have you ever felt you were made incorrectly. Defectively.
Have you ever been washed by relief,
 felt like you can finally breathe,
 when you heard - the color of your skin is very good.
That's how it was created to be.
How do we fail to see.

You tell me it's not fair that I tan so quickly.
I agree. But it's who I'm made to be. And in that fact, I will be free.

Praying For:

Patience with my mom and things that need to be figured out. Patience with doctors, nurses, respitory technicians, and personal care assistants. That I may be kind and understanding, friendly and loving. To take away the fear of the recovery period. It is stressful to live in fear of what is to come. Prayer for Eastern Fairfax while I am gone. That it does not fall apart, that this is a preparation period. Prayer that I may have more zeal for what I am called to do after this experience, not less. Prayer for mom, that she feels well taken care of. Prayer that I can love her well and not make my stress, her stress. Lord, I pray that you may draw healing out of this for my family instead of more brokeness.

Back to the Basics

I have been a volunteer leader at Falls Church High School for the past three and a half years. In that time I have met girls that were freshman in high school when I was a freshman in college. Now we are both seniors. There have been many sweet moments of real life that I have been able to be a part of in these girls lives. This year I have watched them walk across fields and courts for their senior nights. Time has gone by so quickly and these girls have grown and I have grown and our friendships have grown.

I had so many expectations this year about the dynamics of my friendships with my high school friends. All volunteer leaders want to be rock stars and help change lives and be there for significant moments in their friends lives. This year that has been harder for me. I am not there as much as I want to be. So in the moments when I am able to sit with one of my high school friends, I feel a lot of pressure to make those moments powerful and impactful. I put pressure on myself to continually reach out and overdose on my presence at the school or via text, tweet, insta's, etc. And it has not gone so well.

Over and over again I try to be Jesus to these friends. I try to love them like Jesus loves them. But I fail. Because I am not Jesus. Jesus is Jesus. "I am I am." And my high school friends don't need me to be Jesus, they need Jesus.

I worry and stress over whether or not I am loving enough for my high school friends to feel they can be open with me. I worry and stress whether or not I am letting them know that I care enough. I worry and stress over whether or not my high school friends feel like I have forgotten them. I worry and stress that the precious time I have with them, I am wasting.

I pray that they will forgive me for not being Jesus.

So it's time to go back to the basics. This semester, and this past week specifically, I have realized that I need to go back to the beginning. The beginning of creation - what was my life originally created to be? and the beginning of my friendships with these girls. I do not have overwhelming wisdom to give. I can not fix lives.

But I can be a friend.

Last night, I went to go hang out at a place where two of these high school friends work. When they closed, we stacked chairs. Then we ate gelatto. This was such a sweet interaction because I had no agenda. Because I didn't try to make my interactions this huge deal. Because I went back to the basics. Hanging out with these two, I realized, these high school friends are actually my friends and I am their friend. It was so simple and so sweet. So casual.

There is no formula for being a leader. There is no handbook on how to make deep meaningful friendships (there probably is) but the fact remains that these friendships are natural and different from person to person. Sometimes just hanging out and eating gelatto is as sweet as holding a friend when they are crying.

I am thankful that this is a time when I am re-learning what friendship is. I am thankful that my high school friends are teaching me. And I am thankful that "We know what real love is because Jesus gave up His life for us. So we also ought to give up our lives for our brothers and sisters." 1 John 3:16

Tonight is Hard.

Tonight is hard.

Sitting upstairs, listening to my parents arguing downstairs. Knowing that everything in our family is changing. Feeling that my family is literally ripping me apart and tearing me down, while my family is the thing that I love the most.

Then seeing the FCPS Confessions twitter accounts where students are named and shamed. Where secrets are revealed with the intent to hurt. Something so full of hurt and pain. People versus people. Just a few weeks ago am FCPS student committed suicide. Last year so many suicides. So much pain. So much hurt. So much loneliness.

And I am overcome and hurt. How can our world be so cruel. How can these students who I care so deeply about be such jerks. How can my parents no longer be who I need them to be? Why does it feel like my life is so hard and there are so many hoops to jump through? Where is the happiness?

And while I read through the tweets, I felt so much desperation. What can I do to fix all this hurt? And while I listened to the hushed arguments of my parents I desperately tried to think of the words that I could say to both of my parents in consolation.

And I realized, this is all so out of my hands, so out of my league. I can literally do nothing.

Because I cannot forgive the sins of these kids or my parents, I cannot take away the pain, I can not sacrifice to make it better. Because I need that forgiveness just as much as these kids. Because I feel the same pain.

Because Jesus is the one, oh the sweet ONE who cares so deeply about me, about FCPS, about my parents. And I am learning that none of this pain and hurt could ever make sense without the knowledge that there is someone, Jesus, who died for me and for those that hurt me and for those that I love and are in pain; REGARDLESS of anything and everything I have ever done or said, regardless of anything anyone has ever done. Because otherwise we are all so eternally lost in this ugly world of cruel words and pain.

And as I was having a freak out/panic attack/questioning literally everything I skimmed Hebrews 10. And verse 17 said, "Their sins and lawless acts I will remember no more." Jesus truly does make beautiful things out of us. For how can we be loved through all these mistakes, through all this pain. It does not make sense. But it is true.

And in my pain, this is what I am clinging so desperately to, to Jesus, to his love for me. I am loved. Even when it feels like the world, my world is spinning so rapidly out of control. This love will always be true when nothing else remains the same.

And I am okay. And I am loved. And I am in pain. And I hurt. I am all of these things at once.

My Life as a College Senior.

So today marks the end of my second week as a senior in college. The final year of my undergraduate career. I'm just going to jump right into how my time before embarking on adulthood has played out.

I would describe my first few days as a college senior as something akin to a middle school girl experience all over again. I started my first day of class off by walking around campus wondering where my class was and how to get from one side of campus to the other. Mind you, this is my fourth year at this school. I lived on campus for three years. Still, no clue how to get from the library to Enterprise, no clue where Enterprise is at, no clue if that is even a real building.

At multiple events and multiple times I was asked if I was a freshman. Not that there is much age difference between a freshman and myself, it's just that, that means that I seem new and shiny and there is something weird about people thinking that I am when in reality I am old and haggardly.

Also, I am in a class with all freshman. It's French 115. And I am the dumbest one in that class. So yup.

On Tuesday, the second day of class, I convinced myself that I did not have class and skipped it. I later realized, I had had class and I was an idiot.

Finally, to round up my experience as a middle school girl in a college senior's body, comes the most embarrassing moment thus far. Boys feel free to read no longer. My first week in school also happened to be the week I was on my period. Yup. So because typical symptoms of the beautiful flowering of my womanhood I bled through my shorts. Holla. The best/worst (definitely worst) was the fact that I went to college young life that night and got called up for a skit. Thankfully, everyone got to witness this.

So what I have come to learn is the following: age does not mean I am smarter, it seems to mean the opposite; I will never know how to get around campus; I should probably look at my schedule for classes sometime; and I will have the same accidents I had in middle school

I could not have started this year off in a more humbling way. So let's see where it goes from here.

ha. ha. ha.

Help. Help. Help. How do I do all the homework I have to do? My motivation is gone. It is all away. Never here to stay. Living my life like it is summer and I have no more homework assignments, while all those assignments sit in my lap waiting to be completed. Makes me feel like I'm going to be defeated. Help. Help. Help. Help me find the muster to complete this cluster of work to be done before I can enjoy the sun. I know I just have to grit my teeth and bear it, make it through the next three days, but my mind is all a haze. Ugh. Just thinking of all the fun things I have planned for the rest of this season, shouldn't that be reason enough, knowing the work will lead to pleasing? Anyway. I'm off to write these two papers and study for this exam. Will my brain melt? Probably. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Living a Bucket List Life

One thing I have not gotten around to doing, because it would require work - a bucket list.

However, that has not stopped me from living a bucket list kind of life. This year I have been white water rafting, spent a night in West Virginia and dun dun dun - went skydiving. Probs one of the most common bucket list life items. 

This whole adventure started with a conversation that Jen and I had saying that we should really go skydiving. 

This is Jen. Super Friendly. 

This is how Jen and I do things. We say we really want to do something and talk about how awesome it would be and how much we really, really, really want to do it, and then we wait for it to fall in our laps without putting in any effort. Luckily, this plan worked flawlessly this time. 

One day, as I was looking through the groupon deals, there happened to be one for skydiving. So a phone call to Jen later, and our tickets were bought. 

Here's another thing about Jen and I, once we spend money on something, we are committed to it. No backing out. 

After quickly checking with our friends to see if anyone else wanted to join, and all of them essentially stating that they preferred living, we were well on our way to willingly jumping out of a plane. ha. ha. ha. 

Three weeks ago Jen called D.C. Skydiving center and reserved our spots. ha. ha. ha. 

Here is a screenshot of our initial feelings about skydiving. 

We were so optimistic. 

Please ignore the fact that I spelled butterflies, butterflys.

Flash forward to the week before skydiving. Monday, April 22, 2013. We watch this video. 

Ha. Ha. Ha. 

Thursday, April 25, 2013. I feel like I'm going to throw up. The whole day. Probably more because of school and life stress, but I'm willing to attribute this feeling to skydiving. 

Friday, April 26, 2013, I tell my group that they shouldn't count on me getting my work done because I will probably die. I decide not to do homework, because, hey I'm jumping out of a plane. This is nutz. Dance the night away. Can't sleep, too nervous. Text Jen telling her I can't sleep, too nervous. Shower, Watch this video again

Saturday, April 27, 2013. It is the day. Go to Jen's house. Drive to the chiropractor. Jen goes to the chiropractor. I sit in the car. Cry, cry. Go to a bookstore. Can't focus. Too nervous. Go to panera. Want food. I eat wondering what it will be like to throw the food up in a few hours. 

We drive to the place, realize we are going to be an hour early, so we stop, have 7-11 slurpees and take a little bit of time to enjoy the weather. Then we continue to drive. As we approach the place, I yell and Jen stops the car as we see skydivers floating down from the sky. 

With excitement we walk through the fields into the skydiving place. We stand in line and watch a video with a long bearded man saying that we may die and will never be able to sue lol. Then we sign six pages stating that we are never, ever, ever allowed to sue them. Lol again.

Once we signed the papers we took a quick five minute course in skydiving. Essentially, hold on and then spread your arms out. After our extensive training, Jen and I were ready to take the sky.

As we were waiting for our harnesses, we witnessed an argument between our instructor and some fellow sky divers. This was all very reassuring and encouraging. One on one the instructors were nice, helpful, and funny. And we all know humor is the most important factor of all.

The terrifying fear that I had felt left the moment we arrived at the place. Probably because my mind no longer had time to create terrifying scenarios, probably because it was finally real and that was something I could hold on to.

So from the moment we stood in line to check in, I began to feel more comfortable. Not excited, not worried, not terrified, comfortable. As I was walking toward the plane, this turned into an event that was happening, the build up led to this moment, and the moment was here and now it was more typical than atypical. So while sitting on the plane and watching the world become small and visible, I was calm. The view was beautiful, the world was below me for my viewing.

I hear Jen's yells and screams. The door to the airplane opens. I watch as Jen spills over the side of the plane. And through this all, the butterflies that were in my stomach the week before are gone. I scoot my body (with the attached instructor) to the edge of the open door. First my legs dangle out, then we are standing on nothing, on air, as the instructor holds onto the doorframe of the plane. He asks if I am ready, and with a sense of calm I throw up a thumbs up. Then he lets go of the doorframe. We are parallel to the ground, the wind is overwhelming. I let out a yelp, because that is the moment that skydiving became real. Facing the open fields and perfectly cut out subdivisions is when I realized this was happening, I was no longer holding on to anything, this was a completely new experience, something I had never come remotely close to before. So in that brief moment I felt, not terror, but not comfort. I felt newness. Something I had never experienced before.

So after getting that yell out of my system, I relaxed and tried to comprehend the fact that I could see Washington D.C., Manassas, and Warrenton all at the same time with my own eyes. I tried to comprehend the fact that I could view the roads we had just traveled on, the backyards of people who lived complex lives. And that view made me realize, how small it all is, how little. What a weird thought that when I am on the ground, everything is so big and overwhelming and important. Viewing it all from above made it seem like time was standing still, like nothing was really occurring. Surreal.

Anyway the week leading up to this experience was stressful because the idea of jumping out of a plane is crazy. However, the actual experience was a moment to slow my life down, to remove myself from all the stress and anxiety and deadlines. It was a phenomenal experience and I wish I could accurately use words to depict the serenity and newness of the experience.

Here are some images of the view and Jen.