Two Years

It's amazing what can happen in two years. You can travel for two summers with some of the best people you've ever known and spend over 300 hours in a car traveling cross country. You can come 61 credit hours closer to finishing your college degree. You can build a new friendship, only to see it destroyed and then get the joy of watching it mend itself once again. You can see new classes of freshmen come in and watch some of your closest friends graduate. You can attend multiple weddings and be excited with so many girls with shiny new rocks on their hands. You can encounter countless joys and deal with countless frustrations. You can rejoice watching new believers come to the Lord and watch in pain as others walk away. In two years, memories are made and days are forgotten. In two years I have seen things I've never seen, gone places I've never gone, done things I've never done. I have achieved life goals and made new ones. I've had passions defined and a few of my questions have been answered. I have lived a lot these past two years.

Two years. Two years ago today, December 10, 2006 a dear friend of mine got up for the morning, put on his skiing gear and took off for what he hoped would be a great day of skiing. By that evening, Benji had quit living his life here on this earth. No one really knows exactly how it happened, because no one saw him crash, but somehow, the best skier I ever knew hit a tree. It killed him instantly; even though his heart continued to beat for several hours, he would never wake up again.

I still remember that day so clearly. Every moment of it seems etched into my mind. From the very first phone call telling me about the accident that I didn't understand to the last to tell me he was gone and on into the night when my last thought was the prayer, "God, let me sleep, I don't want to feel anything anymore." I remember the car ride to the airport and the light conversation moments before we heard the news. I remember laughing and tickling my youngest cousins, thanking God for the chance to take my mind off of the realness of my reality. I remember the moment that I realized he wasn't going to make it and the anguish I felt. I remember two little hands on my knees as my littlest cousin asked me why I was crying. I told him, "because I am sad." He said, "does your tummy hurt?" and asked if he could get me a drink of water. I remember the two words that told me, "he's gone." I remember how my heart broke. All I wanted to do that night was sleep, but I couldn't. I laid in bed curled up looking at pictures and watching videos of him.

The next day, everything reminded me of him. Someone tried to tell me a joke and it reminded me of him. He told the worst jokes. They made no sense, but he laughed so hard, you knew they had to be funny and eventually you laughed too. Benji was a part of our group and we thought he always would be. Instead of watching him graduate and hugging him goodbye, I watched his parents accept his honorary degree and wrote letters to him he would never read.

I miss Benji. In the grand scheme of things, I didn't know him for very long, but I miss him. I realized sometime this semester that I only knew him for three semesters and tomorrow finishes the fourth that I've lived without him. It doesn't seem possible that he has been absent from my life for longer than he was in it. That's the kind of person Benji was, that's how big of an impact he made. Our campus was so quiet after he was gone, life was sucked out of it. For months, I would have given anything to hear some of my friends laugh again, to think of skiing without being scared, to go away for a weekend without wondering if I would ever see everyone again. Benji's death is a constant mark on my life.

It changed everything. Some of my friends were driven closer by it, some were driven apart. Sometimes, I will have freshmen look at my pictures on the walls and tell me they hope their friends get as close as we were. I wonder, if they know what it took for us to be that way, would they still want that? It's been hard, it's been painful, but God is good. I couldn't even begin to list all of the good things that God has brought out of this situation, it would never do it justice. Every day, I realize more and more how much good has happened because of this terrible situation. Knowing God is there makes life bearable, livable. He came so that we may have life, and have it to the full.

Rest in peace, my friend. You are loved.

And Friday makes 8

The past two months have been a crazy hectic time for our little campus here. People often tease about how many people come here to get married and crack jokes like "I'll be lucky if I get out of here alive." Translation: "I'll be lucky if I get out of here not engaged." It's always been funny, but never before has it been this true, at least not as long as I can remember. In the past two months, eight couples have been engaged and two of the girls are dear friends of mine, and most of the others I know well too. This last week was especially crazy. Three girls got engaged in three consecutive days. It was almost as if the campus held its breath on Saturday waiting to see who number four would be. It turned out that three was the magic number this week. In addition two close friends from high school have gotten engaged recently, as well as my cousin. Not to mention all my friends who have already gotten married since I first knew them. In the month of May alone, I have, on consecutive Saturdays, my own graduation, my cousin's wedding, a wedding in which my friend asked me to be a bridesmaid and a wedding in which my friend asked me to be her 'personal attendant.' It's going to be a busy month.

I was talking to a friend and joked with him that I feel as though I know enough about wedding planning from these friends that I could go into professional wedding consulting. I think I missed my calling. Surely it is wedding planning and not the ministry.

On top of all this, three of my closest friends from my freshman year dorm have been married and are already pregnant. The first one is due in three weeks. As if it wasn't enough to feel as though I can't relate with a married woman when I have never even had a relationship, I now have to learn how to be close to a new mama.

Please don't misunderstand. It's not that I'm pining away for a husband, or that I want the way that my life is now to change, it's just that things are changing. In high school, it was a sign of maturity that I had never had a boyfriend, or at least that's what people told me. Now it just makes me feel like a Toys-R-Us kid saying "I don't want to grow up." I'm not jealous, and I'm not just saying that because I want people to think better of me. I know what jealousy is like. I've felt it before. What I feel now is not that. It's something new, something different. If it's anything negative at all, it's the feeling of fear. Fear of being left behind. Fear that my friends and I will become so different after graduation that we won't understand each other. On one hand, I know that we are friends and nothing will ever change that fact, on the other, I know that even though we will remain friends, things will be very, very different, whether they are married or not or moms or not.

I understand that it almost seems like I am feeling sorry for myself. I'm not, don't worry. But I am thinking through my life. I am struggling to live here and now. I have a hard enough time with not daydreaming and with loosing touch with reality. It only gets more difficult when my dreams are my friends' reality.

Justice

When I was a kid, my mom once told me that I had one of the biggest senses of justice that she had ever seen. I didn't care if things made sense, but they had to be fair. I'm not sure why I remember that conversation, because I'm pretty sure I was pretty young, but I do. Maybe it is because to this day, it's been one of the truest things anyone has said about me and my personality. Lots of people have tried to figure me out, it's like a game they play, the "Let's figure out Chelsea Game." Apparently its a difficult game, or so I've been told. But that doesn't stop people from telling me things about my personality. Most times I smile and say something unimportant while thinking, "If only you knew..."

But this one statement, this one analysis of my personality, I never questioned. Because I know it's true. Things are supposed to be the way that they are supposed to be. But they're not. And that bothers me.

But I don't know how they are supposed to be.

I don't know the way that the world should be, but this is not the way. I don't know why people die, but they aren't supposed to. I don't know why children go hungry while I pick at my cafeteria food and grumble about how it tastes, but I do know it shouldn't be like that. I know that Christians should love each other and care for their enemies, but things aren't going the way they were intended to go. I can't understand the purpose for the uneasiness that I feel every time one of my friends gets themselves into a situation that, as far as I can see, will only end in heartache, but I do understand that love shouldn't be something to be feared.

All this bothers me. I hate it. Because it's not fair.

But I find hope in one thing. Christ, my Savior, he thought things shouldn't be the way they were either. He condemned those who were exploiting the weak. He fed the hungry. He healed the sick and he sought the lost. He gave us a new way to live, a new standard to aspire to and he gives us the strength to make things the way they should be. He gives us comfort for those times that we think things can't get worse and peace when our hearts are troubled. And in the end, he will make everything right.

Because that's the way things are supposed to be.

Honesty

I'm not doing homework right now. I should be. I have to preach in class in less than two weeks and I have lots to do between now and then. I just feel very little motivation.

I don't mind preaching. In fact, the couple of times I've done it, I've enjoyed it actually. Having the reason to dig that deeply into scripture is just neat. I should do it more often, just for fun, but frankly I don't have the time. Having said that, the idea of preaching in class, with people grading me, judging me, well, it freaks me out. Especially after being totally intimidated in class today. The second guy who spoke did so with such eloquence, such honesty. It was refreshing. He deftly used his own story and compared it to Scripture to make his point and he did it ingeniously. It was neither too intelligent and lofty, nor too personal and shallow. I understand that I should not compare myself, but I was blown away. I noticed before he got up that he was holding his papers in his hand and they were shaking. I guess even the most talented and respected among us get nervous at the prospect of honesty in front of their peers.

Religion Majors are the weirdest people I know

It's true. After a whole 48 hours in close quarters with 45 of my fellow classmates, I have come to this conclusion. They're weird. Or maybe it's just boys. The girls are normal. At least, that's how I see it. It's not a bad thing, I guess. The boys are funny and they need someone to laugh at them. That's where we girls come in. We laugh at their ridiculous jokes. I mean, someone had to think "Jesus loves the chosen children" was funny, right? Or a spontaneous "Row, row, row your boat" round. Come on, we all have to agree that's funny. Or maybe we all just lost our minds after 22 hours on a bus and 6 hours of meetings, all in less than 48 hours. That's quite possible.

But more importantly than this more or less unnecessary observation is this: A person's character, reputation, respect, and witness can be destroyed in 48 hours. I'm serious. I lost some respect this weekend for some people. Not everyone and not all my respect, but enough. It's amazing what a couple of unsavory jokes can do. I guess Paul knew what he was talking about when he said that we teachers would be judged more strictly. I still like these people, I will still laugh with them in the future, and I will still call them my friends. But, when I think that the future of the church lies in these boys, it makes me want to pray more and makes me realize just how much we need to trust God for the future. Is that too harsh to say? I hope not.

On the other hand, my respect for some people grew by leaps and bounds. Their dignity in refusing to join in the crass joking speaks well for them. The passion that these men have for their savior is encouraging. Lives are going to be changed because they trust God to be their strength. God can, and will work through the first set of boys, because he uses unlikely people, but nothing replaces hearts totally dedicated to Him.