House on the Rock

I think I finally found a summary of my year. Just like every year, I'll write a post which recaps many moments big and small, but yesterday I heard a simple phrase which brought a sort of closure. A synthesis, if you will.  I was walking a loop around Cool Creek Park - the conveniently-placed nature center directly across from our apartment - with Alex Francis. It's a concrete lap surrounding trees and trails that measures exactly one mile, strangely akin to the loop that borders Taylor U. Despite only living here for six months, I've probably walked close to 70 miles around this park. There are days I've done four to five laps, simply because there's something so healing about the strangely-placed serenity of woods and streams centered directly in the fast-growing suburb of Westfield. I told Alex of the way Joe and I frequent this park for runs and walks, but lately have found it hard to push ourselves. The park, after all, is quite hilly, and the moment my legs s...

 I remember being about six months into my relationship with Joe and thinking that nothing in the world could possibly make me happier than being engaged to him. I Pinterest-saved every ring I saw; I dreamed of our wedding day; I made lists of all the details on every scrap piece of paper. In my mind, nothing would beat that feeling. December 5, 2021 was the one-year anniversary of our engagement. And yet, by the grace of God, the same day one year later far surpassed even the most joyous excitement of his proposal. My sweet love was baptized at Castleview Church - a day full of excitement, tears, celebration, and praising God. I never, ever want to forget it. He'd been thinking about getting baptized for about a year. He did it at his home church when he was twelve, but mostly because his friends were and it was the natural next step after his confirmation class. The Lord continued to stir his heart toward that public declaration of faith, and by the fall of this past year, the st...

Last year I wrote a post about turning twenty-two, with a few tendencies still trickling over from twenty-one and some from years before that. I'll turn twenty-three on Wednesday, and I'll have to sit cross-legged in front of my small group, Bubbly in one hand, Bible in the other, and I'll blush from the birthday song and answer the birthday question: What is something you have learned in the past year? In the spirit of anti-procrastination (and frankly not wanting to look a fool), I thought I'd start brainstorming. A week ago, I was turning across traffic from 146th to 131st in Carmel, one hand on the wheel, one hand picking microwaveable Healthy Choice Meal Chicken Pesto out of my still-gappy teeth. The dentist told me my wisdom teeth would come in and push all my teeth together so I wouldn't need braces, but I'm fully wisdom-toothed and alas, no movement. As I took a risky turn and nearly found myself T-boned by a suburban mom in her Suburban XL, I sighed. I ...

 The bell finally rang, signaling the end of fifth period and the beginning of fall break. Joe and I mostly just took deep breaths over celebratory Noble Romans - the kinds of deep breaths you take after surviving a near-death experience or finishing  a hundred-yard all-out sprint. That's not to say that the past trimester wasn't good- read my  previous post for proof of that. It's just that we were made for rest. And this time, I felt unprecedentedly desperate for rest.  We spent Friday night packing and praising God for Factory Warranties that allowed my broken transmission to be repaired at no cost. We picked up our Equinox from the service garage and headed for the hills with one goal in mind for fall break: rest. Our drive to North Carolina was nearly seamless. The primary crisis was that by the time we were hungry enough for Chick-Fil-A, we were in the thickest part of the Smokies without a  restaurant in sight. Joe wove through curvy mountain roads while ...

The minutes leading up to the 3:39 bell on the Friday before Fall Break might as well have been hours. I had pretty much resigned to letting my students just hang out as the countdown drug on at the speed of spilling molasses. I thought we'd all be  much happier people if we allowed ourselves an early descent into "Fall Break Mode" rather than fighting our way through Thematic Statement versus Thematic Idea, learning nothing except that the Thematic Idea of the Friday before Fall Break is Low Expectations and the Thematic Statement is Students and teachers alike do not want to do  anything on the Friday before Fall Break. The moral? Don't make them.  My projector didn't even work so we couldn't play our review game; instead I passed out children's books and said, "Try to find the theme of this." They grouped off into breakout rooms and when I walked by, students  were mostly watching Tik Tok or discussing weekend plans. They're good  kids and...

 7:00 rolled around with a backstage dance party, followed by one more group prayer, and finally, the sweetest ceremony  of all time. Dad and I laughed from the lobby as we watched late-arrivers attempt to shuffle in unnoticed and beautiful bridesmaids try not to trip on their gowns. The doors opened, piano music filled the room, and I started my walk down the aisle.  Despite my love's sentimental tears, I couldn't stop laughing. My joy couldn't be contained by a smile and it bubbled out as laughter as I watched my dad and my dude fight the flood of tears. I don't remember much about the ceremony, but I'll recap the best I can. Jeff opened the show with a  beautiful message about joy, love, and commitment. He rattled off two-minutes worth of straight up puns which had the whole crowd laughing. Dad handed me off and we ascended the stairs of the stage, unable to take our eyes off each other (uh, me and Joe, that is. Not my dad and I. that'd be questionable). Past...

Blogging, as much as I want it to be hassle-free and purely for my own enjoyment, can become a bit of a burden. The enneagram-3 achiever in me insists on near perfect punctuation and compelling language even though, again, there are exactly two people who ever look at this blog. But every once in a while, I pop on here and reminisce on the hills and valleys of life. It is crazy to think that at end of a  2019 recap, I talked about going on a date with a man. Reading  that blog post brings a fresh wave of nostalgia as I relive that awkward Starbucks handshake, that coffee I was too nervous to drink and those blue eyes that I couldn't pull away from. The hand that I once nervously shook now bears a ring which symbolizes an eternal  covenant...to me. A life so crazy it often doesn't make sense, and a moment I hope to never forget. So that's why I pop back on every once in a while. I want to remember these days. Blogging is a more convincing memory vault than, say, my nearly-...

We're done. The days of reading Wendell Berry and worshiping at chapel and clapping way too long with a thousand other classmates are behind us. So long to the black squirrels, easy friendships, and freely crossing every street with the knowledge that cars yield to pedestrians 100% of the time. Taylor is a bubble and I know that outside this one-mile loop, cars don't stop for street-crossers, most squirrels are grayish-brown and life isn't always a worship service. Not everyone will wish me "shalom" and there will be confrontations that end in angry resentment rather than prayerful reconciliation. Life outside the bubble is about to be drastically different than anything around the loop, but it's what we're called to- it's where we must go. In the spirit of (frankly sucking at) reflection, here are ten Taylor lessons I hope I never forget. Beyond the bubble we go! N O T E  T O  S E L F : 1. Honesty isn't optional. It's not the best policy- it...

I had scheduled a couple of office hours the next morning as dead week culminated and I strived to make a couple extra bucks before summer. As I was walking to the admissions office, my eyes still puffy, the Spirit prompted me to call Joe. He picked up and my voice trembled so I could barely speak. I reiterated the message God had laid on my heart - the same message delivered  by Reyna, Jeff, and Steph: "Baby, I am so sorry I have never paused to acknowledge how hard your job has been."  Joe responded with such grace, such kindness, and in a powerful act of mercy, he comforted me, "You're forgiven times a million. And I don't care what that email said - I'm praying specifically that you hear today and that you get the job today. "  Peace flooded my soul. His steadfastness and confidence moved me, even more, to tears.  I was overcome with a sense of hope and joy - for the first time in what felt like a long time. The morning that followed was restful. Amy...

I feel like I just got off the Voyage at Holiday World: a ride that takes you from the highest heights and plummets you deep into the earth only to shoot you skyward once again.  May 5th was a low. I got an email from Westfield with an update in their interview process. Basically, they had offered one of the jobs to a different candidate and they were waiting on her response. Not necessarily a closed door, but certainly not optimistic. They kindly concluded that they forwarded my information onto another principal at a different school. That most certainly felt like a no. My spirits were crushed. That same day, I got to speak in chapel about the comfort I had found in my Taylor community (see here ). The speech concluded with all my job rejections and how people kept pointing me back to THE Comforter, the one who wipes our tears and handles our messes, and how we all had the privilege of running to him as we grieved. I had no idea I would get to live out that speech so palpably wit...