I Need Beauty

I need beauty to keep me sane. Without some form of beauty, I get swept away by frustrations, worries, stresses, confusion, and the ever-present reminder that Biola is very expensive. Beauty reminds me that it's all worth it. That all shall be well. That the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. That life will be all the more beautiful when I fight past the worries to find beauty.

On Being a Torrey Nerd

I went to a lecture tonight about possibly working with Wheatstone in the future. Because it is run by Torrey people, it is just as nerdy as Torrey, and I love it.

The speaker outlined the two dominant Torrey alumni dream lives. I found this hilarious because I want both of those things, too.

Option #1: Live in a little cottage in the mountains with your family where you have children and raise them to love God and books while you read poetry, love art, write books, discuss everything and tend to your garden or apple orchard.

Option #2: The life outlined in Dr. Reynold's Torrientation speech, where you spend four intense years learning about great books, God, goodness, truth, beauty, and Plato, then go out and change the world because the fate of Western civilization lies on our shoulders.

Needless to say, this is hard to reconcile because I desperately want to do both. But I think it can be done some way. (And the speaker gave us ideas, and didn't just let us ponder it for two hours like a Torrey tutor would.) And I want to do it. I want to live a virtuous life, engage the culture in the intellectual life it is missing, mentor teenagers, write blog posts, live in the mountains with goats and chickens, and rock the world.

I love being a Torrey nerd. I love the people I get to be nerdy with, I love the tutors and mentors, I love the challenge, the books, the thoughts, community, the jokes, the world-changing attitude, the encouragement to live for God and be the best you can be. I want to bring this to more people. I want high school students to see the adventure in learning and learn not for the sake of the grade, but for the sake of the betterment of their souls. I want to show teenagers that thinking is awesome and wonderful and much more satisfying than television. I want to teach world-changers in the same way that I am being taught to change the world.

And now to get into the practical application of all this: reading Augustine and figuring out a thesis for my paper.

(I apologize to all the non-Torrey people out there who have no idea what I am talking about.)

Dear Quadratus...

Six months ago today I met you. We sat in a circle of sixteen freshmen and seven sophomore seers and my first thought was, "What have I gotten myself into?" There was Mary Kate who was singing songs about ducks walking a row, Austin who looked nothing like his Facebook picture, Cale whose sign for our ice-breaker game was a thumbs-up, and many more.

Now I know what I have gotten myself into. I am in a group of wonderful people whom I love more than I ever thought possible. Quadratus, you guys are my friends, family, encouragers, entertainment, counselors, all-night-paper-writing buddies, rescuers, accountability partners, editors, dinner and lunch dates, partners in crime, prayer warriors, advisors, valentines, and brothers and sisters in Christ.

I am tempted to say that Biola, Torrey, and Quadratus have changed me, but I don't think that's accurate. Instead, Quadratus has made me uniquely myself. You have encouraged my strengths and help me grow in my weaknesses. You have taught me how to think, how to love, and how to live. You have cried with me, prayed with me, rescued me, challenged me, and loved me. I cannot fathom what college would be like without each any every one of you.

May God bless Quadratus in our journey to pursue the good, the true, and the beautiful.

The Blessing of Each Day

Augustine.
Two cups of tea.
Torrey session on Psalms.
A yellow rose from my Quadratus gentlemen.
A singing Valentines' Day message from my Quadratus gentlemen.
C.S. Lewis.
Dr. Henderson's sense of humor.
Leggings and a dress.
A Jane Austen-esque hairstyle.
Finding a paper topic.
A package of Sees candies from my mom.
Singing songs in class.
Putting together a sentence in Spanish class that actually makes sense.
Praying with my friends.
Reading My Utmost for His Highest aloud to Elizabeth in the caf.
Laughter.
Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies.
"Be Thou My Vision" stuck in my head.

Amazing Friends, Good Books, February, and God's Faithfulness

Last night, I wrote a blog post that sort of ended in a hopeless way. I mentioned something about clinging to God's love, but I didn't expound on it, partially because I had already spent an hour and a half writing that post, and partially because I was concurrently discussing our Reynolds session with Rachel and not paying complete attention to how I ended that post.

But since last night I have been overwhelmed with hope. I have wonderful friends, and I am so blessed to be around people who genuinely care about me. They talk with me, give me hugs, make lunch and dinner dates with me, let me chill in their rooms, send me notes and messages reminding me of their love, and call me to check up on me. I cannot imagine being educated in a setting without this kind of love and support.

But good friends can't get me through everything, mostly because they are not that wise. I am learning with them, and not sitting in their tutelage (though I learn a lot from them). That's why I have mentors. I have people like Professor Klapauszak who help me think and can see what major I would thrive in. But even from my mentors I can't learn everything. So, God has given me books where I can learn from great minds who no longer walk this earth. I can sit in my room and learn from Sheldon Vanauken, C.S. Lewis, Plato, Augustine, and even Jesus. He is faithful to provide the wisdom I need.

God's faithfulness is also evident in the month of February. It seems I always face particularly interesting and faith-testing moments in February. One year ago I was accepted to Biola, and I had no idea if this was where God wanted me to go to school, and I was minorly freaked out about it. It was at this time that I was also introduced to the idea of Torrey and decided to apply, a decision that changed my life forever. Two years ago (February 2009), I went through an intense time of doubt about my faith. Being raised in a Christian home, this was the first time I consciously wrestled with my faith. The song "Come Thou Fount" brought me back to God as I saw that I was truly "prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love." He lovingly took my heart and sealed it, sealing it for His courts above.

Three Februaries ago, I was in the midst of fighting with my father, which turned into nine months of his refusal to speak to me, despite continual efforts of my part to ask for and earn his forgiveness. This issue is still one I am dealing with, and still one where (as I experienced last night) God's grace is present.

Four Februaries ago I was baptized. This was a difficult decision for me because I was afraid of proclaiming my faith in such a way. I made the decision and have never regretted it.

There is hope. I am reminded that if nothing in my life ever went wrong, I wouldn't experience God's grace. I wouldn't be encouraged by my friends or find joy through rough circumstances.

"Your worst days are never so bad that you are beyond the reach of God's grace. And your best days are never so good that you are beyond the need of God's grace." ~Anonynous

A Bruised Heart in Blog Post Form

Torrey students: Quadratus had their first Reynolds session today. I told my group right before it that I wasn't ready. There were too many things reeling in my head, too many triumphs and tears throughout the day to end it with a Reynolds session, especially on Plato's Symposium. But that is exactly what happened. The result? I checked off number 96 on the "101 Things To Do in Torrey Before You Graduate" list: Cry in session.

Non-Torrey students: Imagine being hurt, then putting on a happy face and trying to tell yourself and everyone else that it will be okay, and then having a knife thrust into your heart. In a very academically, mind-boggling way. Then add in a lot of awkwardness. That was my night.

We talked about a lot of things this session. One of my favorite topics of conversation (which I wish I was better versed in) is the down-fall of American culture and Western civilization, which is also one of Dr. Reynolds' favorite topics of conversation. Which means we spent a lot of time talking about what love is according to our culture and comparing it with love according to Plato.

We talked about beauty and wisdom, and how rare it is to find a person who genuinely has both. It struck me how true that is. Beauty takes a lot of time and a lot of effort. So does the pursuit of wisdom. People cannot feasibly be drop-dead gorgeous and have time to become genuinely wise. Those who pretend to do are not doing at least one of those things to the fullest capacity. Instead, those who are good-looking have to spend their time keeping up appearances, not learning. They can bluff their way through school and life if they want, but the mark of a truly strong person is one who can get through life by bluffing (or with charm) but chooses to use intellect instead. Those who prefer the charm route can do so, but they will have to hire someone to do the brain work behind it. Classic example (and I am honestly not trying to pick on Obama with this example): Who was elected president? Obama. Who writes Obama's speeches and who does the hard work of running the country? Speech-writers and the president's cabinet. This leads to the question: What happens in a culture where the good-looking people's lines are written by the bad-looking (but smart) people? The smart people run the country but the good-looking people think they do.

Now, at this point you are probably wondering one or more of the following (unless you were actually in this session)...

1. Aren't you being a little self-righteous? After all, just because someone is born good-looking, that doesn't mean they are doomed to be stupid, right?

2. Isn't it possible to get good grades and spend time on your looks? After all, school doesn't take that much time!

My response to number 1: Born good-looking gives you a ridiculous advantage in this culture. Most are tempted to use this advantage - after all, who wouldn't? The word that came to mind during session was "integrity." Doing the work, even though you could get away with not doing it.

My response to number 2: Wisdom is not the same thing as schooling. True wisdom is not spitting out answers on tests. True wisdom is reading and thinking. This type of wisdom takes time. It takes a lifetime. As I looked around Dr. Reynolds' office, the majority of wall space was covered in bookshelves filled with books, all of which contain wisdom. That much reading, or even a fraction of it takes time, effort, and a love for it.

We also discussed (and by "we," I mean everyone else, because I spent most of the class period just trying to process what was being said) that right before a culture is destroyed, historically, it does not appreciate its blessings. Instead, it takes the blessings it is given and wants more. (We cited Plato for this, but I honestly don't think you care what the citation is, and I don't remember it anyway.) If this is true, our culture is approaching destruction very soon because everything is taken for granted: education, family, food, friends, books, transportation. In any time before this, none of these things were taken for granted, especially not education. Dr. Reynolds told us about his grandfather who only received an 8th grade education. And there we sat with not only a high school education but also enrolled in college, and not just any college, but a part of the Torrey Honors Institute, reading the greatest works of Western civilization. Dr. Reynolds told us that his grandfather would look at us and ask, "How can you possibly be unhappy?" Yet, each and every day we complain about how we want more. We don't appreciate our blessings, and that will lead to our downfall.

We talked about another interesting topic that explained Torrey and education to me in a way that helps me understand when we don't come to an answer in session. Education is about going in circles. We can either go "further in and further up" as Lewis says, or we can go somewhere. I have always valued the destination more than the process. Now, I am learning to value the process and the learning more than the destination and answer.

Throughout all this, we talked about love, the theme of Symposium. We talked about what it truly means to love. We talked about sacrificing for the one you love. We talked about how love implies loving something. Love implies a beloved. All the dialogues talk about "love" the thing, but not the real love, which implies a beloved and an action. It is not something idependent of itself.

Amidst all of this, we did some thinking about our own love relationships, most notably with our parents. We also talked about marriage relationships. These are both great learning instances, but it hit quite close to home. Before coming to session, I talked to my mom on the phone. My dad is not talking to my mom or my brother, after going for a week in January without talking to me. Throughout session, my eyes would tear up when this topic came up, but I made it through. Near the end, however, Mrs. Reynolds came in, and Dr. Reynolds asked her to give the last word in the discussion. We had talked about how in romantic movies, the credits roll at the happiest time of the movie. In real life, the credits roll in a hospital, with at least one person in intense pain. She described what I deem as the truest love: Philip Johnson, one of the leaders in thought of the idea of Torrey, is in the hospital, and his wife is by his side, helping him and loving him. That was when I lost it. My family is in much of the same situation. My mom is not in a hospital, but she is disabled, hurting, and confined to a bed most of the day. My dad is not there with her. He avoids her and her children, tells her she would just get better if only she would try, makes his son walk seven miles home from school because he doesn't feel like driving to pick him up, and refuses to talk to his daughter even though she begs him that she will do anything if he will just love her. Love can hurt. A lot. Which is why it's so dangerous.

After this session, I did not know what to do. How do you respond to three hours of discovering that you feel your family doesn't truly love one another, to such a degree that it hurts being home? I ended up talking to my friends. They told me to keep clinging to the promise that God loves you. To keep loving yourself. To rely on the Body of Christ because that's what community is for.

"As a high school student I used to read about Catherine [Marshall] and Elisabeth [Elliot's] days at college, and I could see them sitting in their dorm rooms writing journal entires and prayers that would later serve as landmarks in their spiritual journeys. Elisabeth even left behind a man she loved and ventured off to the mission field...

I eagerly wanted to follow in their footsteps. I went to a Christian college, hoping to meet other girls who wanted to do the same. But by the time I got to college, I found myself looking around and wondering where the Elisabeths and Catherines had gone. Don't get me wrong, there were many faithful girls who loved and served God. But after close examination it was evident that some of the passion that Elisabeth and Catherine had was missing from my generation.

It seems to me there is a new kind of girl taking over the world. She is even taking over the Christian world. She is modern and independent, focused on glittering up her outside, and has forgotten how to tend to her inward life. Now, this is not a new phenomenon. Even in her spiritual autobiography, Meeting God at Every Turn, Catherine Marshall describes her wealthy roommate at Agnes Scott College.

Her name was Virginia and she had the finest clothes, an endless supply of makeup, and was a real live "blond bombshell." And there sat her roommate, plain old mousy-haired Catherine, writing things in her journal about how she wanted to know and seek God more, so she could find His purpose for her life. Today, it seems there are many Virginias and few Catherines. Far too many girls are saying no to God and yes to the world..."

~Shannon Kubiak Primicerio, God Called a Girl
Graduate of Biola University

A Day of Firsts

Today has been a wonderfully surprising and surprisingly wonderful day. I went to a reformed-doctrine church for the first time and watched the Super Bowl (well, some of it) for the first time. I also attended my first Super-Bowl-party-turned-hymn-sing.


I was planning on going to church this weekend with Maddie, like we did near the end of last semester, but she went back to Bakersfield for the weekend, so I asked Elizabeth if I could go with her. So, I ended up at a reformed-doctrine church with Elizabeth and two other friends. Afterwards, we planned to go to Elizabeth's house for the Super Bowl. Because I'm not a huge football fan, I wasn't entirely thrilled about an afternoon of football, but I decided to tag along because free (non-cafeteria) food was involved, as was getting off campus and hanging out with friends. However, everyone who wanted to go along were Torrey kids, which meant all of them had homework to be doing. So, we talked ourselves into believing that this would be a study party, too.


Some of us (especially those of us not interested in football) opted to do some homework, too. So, I sat in the Bush's kitchen, alternating between watching Super Bowl commercials and reading Psalms. Talk about a clash of cultures.


After dinner, the die-hard, I-actually-came-to-watch-the-Super-Bowl people parked themselves in front of the TV to finish watching (and loudly discussing) the game while the rest of us went into another room to read or do homework. Elizabeth played the piano, while we sat contentedly doing our work. Eventually, a guitar was brought out and more people migrated to this room and we started singing praise songs we knew from memory. I sat in an armchair with my Bible on my lap, looking at the scene. Mr. and Mrs. Bush and their 11-year-old daughter sat on one couch, reading and doing a puzzle. Their 7-year-old daughter sat in the arm chair next to mine snuggling in blankets and reading a book. Cree played the guitar, and Elizabeth, Cori, Robin, Andrew, Kyle, and Sean sat in various places on couches or on the floor singing along. Elizabeth beckoned me and I joined the college kids sitting on the floor. I smiled. This was what live is supposed to be. Family that loves one another and others. Students who want to glorify God. A place where friendship, books, knowledge, joy, truth, mentoring, prayer, and songs abound. We eventually gathered around the piano as Elizabeth played or we sang acapella to many of the old hymns I grew up learning. We sang all of my all-time favorites: "Nothing But the Blood," "Be Thou My Vision," "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing," "The Old Rugged Cross," and so many more. Mrs. Bush brought out tea for us, and I laughed as I watched college-aged boys rushing to the china tea cups, trying to figure out how they were meant to be held. We sang a few more hymns and prayed. As we prayed, I felt like I was a part of the Body of Christ in a closer, more personal way than I feel when I'm at chapel or in any gathering of believers (other than my Torrey group and my home church). I was with a variety of people: one who knows me better than I know myself, one I had only met that day, and everyone else fell somewhere in between. Yet all were a part of the Body of Christ, all were my brothers and sisters in the family of God. After we prayed, we loaded up into Elizabeth's car and ended the evening by driving back to Biola on the freeway, singing along to "Don't Stop Believing" and "Lucky."


Super Bowl Sunday has held special significance to me for four years: on Super Bowl Sunday in 2007, I was baptized. Four years ago, I never imagined being here. I never could have imagined the spiritual steps I have taken. I look at my infant-Christian self, and see such a huge change in my relationship with God. I can see where He has brought me, who He has put in my life to touch me, and how He has loved me.

Happiness of the Last Few Days

• Both friends who thought they might not be able to come back this semester are coming back. In fact, they are back.
• Fro yo.
• Plato.
• Studying at night with Rachel.
• "101 Things To Do in Torrey Before You Graduate" is printed out and on the wall of my dorm room with check marks next to the ones I've already done. 26 out of 110.
• I get to spend tomorrow at a Charlie Hall (whoever he is...) chapel, taking a Spanish placement exam, and reading Plato and American Lit stuff. And dinner with Elizabeth.
• I couldn't stop smiling and laughing in session today because I am so excited to be back with my group in session. That definitely hampered my discussion skills.
• Screams of joy.
• Having entire conversations without saying a word.
• The Irish quote book Rachel gave me.
• My old journals and God's faithfulness reflected in them.
• Good writing.
• Friends who tell me things like, "You worry too much. There's this thing called the present. Live in it."
• When the Psalms say, "God, when you save your people, save me." Not "if." "When."
• Job 38.
• Banana chips and almonds.
• "Streets of Bakersfield" by Buck Owens.
• Quadratus. And their funny looks, laughter, joy, humor, wanton cravings, hugs, friendship, and all-around awesomeness.
• A hug from Robynne.
• Dr. Vincent's prayer in session that made me cry.

I Am Thankful For...

• Biola.
• Friends who move in before me and are here to welcome me.
• Johnny Cash.
• The fact that my dad has enough Johnny Cash music to last the entire drive from Bakersfield to Biola. And then some.
• Tears.
• My family. Even with all of our fights, grudges, tears, disabilities, stupid comments, sloppiness, stubborness, and pride. I'm still thankful for them.
• Arriving at Biola safely and not getting hit on the tricky interchange between the I-5, the 60, and the 10. And safely getting over the Grapevine.
• Having Jenna in my American Lit class and Spencer in my Spanish class.
• Hugs.
• Friends who missed me.
• Bakersfield and Woody.
• Rain. Lots and lots of rain.
• The rain that drowns out the Sufjan music playing in the car as I drive through green rolling hills to church.
• The Biola caf.
• The Irish.
• The National Multiple Sclerosis Society.
• The Boy Scouts.
• The fact that I didn't get that receptionist job.
• The fact that I have to rely on God for where money will come from.
• Scholarship searches.
• Tea.
• Commons.
• Posters in my dorm room.
• The picture of my best friend and her family holding a plaque that says, "God Is In Control" that is posted where I can see it from my desk.
• More books than I have shelf space for.
• Internet access from my dorm room.
• My friends from high school.
• Getting into a literature class.
• The fact that I have a P.E. class even if it wasn't the one I wanted and even though I'm scared to death about that class.
• Little things that give me a familiarity of being "home."

Nostalgia

I was recently told (in different wording) that I'm too nostalgic and I need to stop wishing for the past. Which is probably true. But I don't want to forget about the past. It's too important to me.

One year ago today I spent the day in Fresno at a speech tournament instead of going to my senior formal. I had never been to a formal, and I really wanted to go my senior year, but I had also been working all year on extemp and I really wanted to go to state in that event. I didn't end up qualifying for state. But, looking back, I see that I made the right decision. That tournament is one of my most memorable high school experiences. It ranks higher than my one and only high school dance (my senior prom). Right up there with the time I won first place in extemp and the time Stef and I beat the top teams from Fresno and Bakersfield back to back and nearly made it to state in parli.

Looking back, I can't believe the day I gave up going to formal in order to go to a speech tournament was a full year ago. The memories from that day are still fresh in my mind, and I never want to forget them. I still look back on that trip and feel like it was only yesterday, but it was a year ago. At that time, my life revolved around two things: forensics and college stuff. I was applying to colleges, applying for scholarships, waiting for acceptance or rejection letters, waiting for answered prayers, and just waiting for my senior year to be over. I also lived, breathed, and even prayed forensics. I scoured the papers everyday, quizzed Brice on anything I could do better, and was constantly practicing my speeches. Now, I'm in college and I haven't given a speech in ten months. At that time, I had not yet been accepted to Biola, I had never heard of the Torrey Honors Institute, and I was fairly certain I would end up at APU for college, though I was hoping to make ends meet in such a way that I could go to Hillsdale. It never occurred to me that one year in the future, I would be a student at Biola, in Torrey, not on the debate team, with enough money to cover my first year in full. I am so different from who I was a year ago...yet so much the same. Life is weird that way.

It Must Be Time to Go Back to Biola

My friends are quoting Peter Kreeft on their Facebook statuses.

I keep getting "I wish you were here already" texts and Facebook comments.

I am three books ahead for Torrey reading.

My room is a pile of stuff that needs to be packed by tonight.

I am so excited about rearranging and redecorating my dorm room tomorrow.

Chuck Colson and Scott Rae are speaking at an event at Biola next weekend and I am registered to go. For free.

Mere Christian Radio has me excited for getting back into Torrey reading.

My friend Jenna is in my 8 am American Lit II class.

I have five boxes of tea bags and four mugs ready for impromptu tea parties in Sigma.

I now own the Complete Works of Plato. I feel like a registered nerd.

I have two classes in Sutherland Hall this semester.

I get to have a girls' night with my mom and eat Chinese food and watch Faith Like Potatoes tonight.

I am reading Plato, Sophocles, Kierkegaard, Freud, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Shakespeare, Donne, and the Bible this semester. Oh, and listening to Rachmaninov.

This is shaping up to be a pretty good semester.

I Have Missed Long Talks Over Tea

I spent a total of four hours this weekend sitting in Starbucks talking with people. It taught me a lot of things.

I miss Commons. There I can use those awesome flex points instead of cash to pay for my drink.

Tea beats coffee every time.

There is something about comfy chairs, tea, and a good friend that makes you talk for hours.

Modern education is not the type of education I want my kids to have.

Books are more wonderful, inspiring, intriguing, edifying, encouraging, and thought-provoking than I usually give them credit for. Especially old books.

For some reason, the Starbucks off of Rosedale and Allen has five Erma Bombeck books on their bookshelf. That is kind of awesome.

Everything that happened in high school was such a big deal at the time. Now I don't even remember some of it. But it has all made me who I am...that's intriguing.

There is not much that is more encouraging than knowing you have inspired someone.

People and books are God's greatest gifts to me (aside from salvation, of course). Tea might be number three.

Coffee shops are where some of the world's best ideas are born. I now understand why the Inklings met in a pub.

The love of learning is what causes me to enjoy college.

I wouldn't trade anything for my time at BCHS: in debate, in Bible classes, in English classes, being shaped, blooming, and growing. The friends I made there will be my friends for life.

I am very thankful that some of the people who knew me as a freshman in high school or when I was in junior high are still willing to be friends with me now.

I love Torrey. More than any other class I have ever taken. More than any educational model I have ever been educated with. More than any debate. More than any project. I can't believe I get to learn this way.

Spring 2011

Just when I get excited about going back to Biola, I hang out with friends from high school and remember how much I love and miss them. Then I just don't want to go back.



But I will have to go back soon. In about a week-ish.



Here's to a semester of thick books, good discussions, hugs, being a sophomore, tears, springtime, all-nighters, prayers, Sutherland 209, morning classes, good movies, laughter, lots of stress, long talks over tea, new friends, playing in the park, reading outside, writing Torrey papers, caf food, SoCal weather, lots of notes, decision-making, and pursuit of goodness, truth, and beauty.

May God bless it.

A Silver Lining to Every Cloud

The Cloud:
-My dad is mad at me.
-I'm getting sick, and my throat is so sore I can hardly talk.
-I still don't know what I want to major in.
-My entire church has made it their mission to give me ideas as to what to major in.
-I'm worried about whether I will get the receptionist job or not...mostly worried about if I do get it. If I don't I might actually be relieved.
-I still have 400 pages to read of Anna Karenina.
-I have job applications to fill out, job searches to go on, scholarship applications to find and fill out, and lots of boring shopping to do.
-I'm insanely worried about my friends who are trying to scrounge money for the down payment for next semester's tuition.
-My Sophocles book still hasn't come in yet, even though I ordered it four weeks ago.
-I can't find last year's financial aid documents or The Blind Side DVD.
-I can't get KERI 1410 AM to play the live radio streaming so I can listen to Mere Christian Radio.
-My ipod died in the middle of a Johnny Cash song.

The Silver Lining:
-I have friends who tell just by looking at me that something is bugging me and not only give me hugs, but invite to their house, not just for a couple hours but overnight and for as long as I want.
-I thank God that Biola made me get a chicken pox vaccine last summer so I don't have to worry about catching it when I play with wonderful kids who are getting over it.
-Skype.
-The fact that I'm getting sick while I'm not at school, and that by getting sick, I might get out of my dentist appointment tomorrow.
-Hot tea.
-Encouraging text messages.
-High school friends who see all the hard work I put into last semester and how much I enjoyed it and want to be like me.
-A high school debate coach who prays for me and reminds me that there is Someone who will take care of all my worries if I give them to Him.
-The fact that my parents don't have the time or money to get my wisdom teeth out yet.
-Little kids next door who see me and run to give me a hug.
-My entire church is praying about my major.
-My tuition is paid for next semester.
-The prospect of my first job being a good one.
-Cary Grant movies.
-Being able to attend the same little country church with the same wonderful pastor for the better part of fourteen years.

Sidenote: It should be noted that I listed 12 "clouds" and 15 "silver linings." God is good.

A Weird Feeling

On New Year's Eve, I went shot-gun shooting with my dad and my brother and a bunch of Boy Scouts. I came back home and took a two-and-a-half-hour nap. Then I crashed an hour before midnight and slept for nine straight hours. I haven't slept that much since I got sick right around mid-terms. And I wasn't even doing anything hard or exhausting. In fact, an average day at Biola crams in more activity than I've done in the last two weeks.

I have a weird feeling of being refreshed because I've had time to rest, yet feeling useless because I haven't been doing much of anything lately. Then I see my friends who are taking interterm classes, working, or making progress on next semester's reading, and then I look at myself. I have done pretty much nothing. I feel lazy and a bit ridiculous sitting at home, or thrift store shopping instead of working.

I also have a weird mix of wanting to go back to Biola, but at the same time dreading going back (or at least dreading registration). I desperately want to see my friends. But, I'm worried about working out the details with paying tuition and making a decision about my major.

Then, I'm feeling relieved to be home, where I have my own room, a kitchen to cook in, time to watch movies, parents who will buy food and other things for me, a car, a ranch in the country to visit, and a church full of people who have watched me grow up. At the same time, being home makes me frustrated and angry when I see my dad get angry, or make snide remarks to me or my brother, or embarrass me in front of my entire church. Or when I see my mom struggling to walk. Or when my brother has a strange mix of cockiness and apathy and I'm not sure what to do with him and my temper gets the better of me.

Part of me feels like I belong here, in the house I have lived in all my life, where I constantly run across reminders of my childhood, what I once loved to do, my joys when I was a kid. I found tons of pictures from my childhood while I was looking for pictures for my brother's Eagle Scout Court of Honor. I found pictures of me and him playing together, riding a rocking horse, playing dress-up, and helping my dad. I found pictures of myself: dressed up like a pioneer girl, reading a book, playing or posing with my friends. These pictures remind me of my past, who I was, who I am. My past (and my home) will always be a part of me...yet while I have this new-found appreciation of my past and my childhood, I feel like I don't belong here. I keep remembering that I will be moving back to Biola in a few weeks, and I am excited to plan what my dorm room will look like next semester. I feel comfortable enough at home, that I might actually miss it when I move back to Biola.

Part of me wants to dream, imagine, and wish for the future, while another part of me is afraid of the future and knows that my imaginings won't work out the way I wish. Instead, problems will arise, and I will be disappointed.

And all mixed in with this, I have a strange desire to hide from God, forget about Him, and take a break from Him...yet at the same time, I long to rest in His love and the knowledge that He has a plan for my life, and it's better than I can imagine. In almost every area of my life, I feel pulled in two directions: two responses to God, two homes, two views of my past and my family, two views of my future. It leaves me at a stalemate, so to speak. In so many areas, I don't know what to do or where to go or how to act, so I do nothing. I need courage to act, courage to keep going when I'm afraid, courage to make a decision, courage to do the right thing. And as I write this, the words from Joshua that seem to keep turning up run through my mind: "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go."

Torrey Quotes: The Best of 2010

My Torrey Friends say the funniest things. Here are my favorites...
Note: For anyone who reads these quotes and doubts the character of my friends: they are all good, upstanding, Christian men and women who just say the weirdest things sometimes.

"Mary Kate Reynolds...needs to read the Iliad like the Muses are her homeboys." -Mary Kate Reynolds' Facebook status

"Why do we read Beowulf? Because Tolkein told us to." -Dr. Sanders

Dr. Reynolds: "What's wrong with Homer?"
Cale Wright: "He's telling us to put our heads in a meat grinder?"

"Snogging to church music is weird." -Dr. Reynolds

"That was blind-mowing!" -Rachel Harris

"A daaaamn shoot!" -Rachel Harris

"What the heck are 'sandal buddies'?! Is that a subtle way of saying we're playing footsies without shoes on?" -Sean Tosello

"What do you do with guys? You marry them!" -Elizabeth Bush

[Context: when two people try to talk at the same time in our group during class, they do rock-paper-scissors to see who gets to talk. Some have been known to do this when two people volunteer at the same time to pray for someone...] "Did you just cheat at rock-paper-scissors so you could pray for someone? That sounds like something Dante would do!" -Sean Tosello

"I'm gonna have the biggest ripped esophagus ever!" -Sean Tosello

"Great. Now I'm an Irish gangster." -me

"You're a hot Irish nerd, and I love you." -Elizabeth Bush to me

"There's nothing better than a Biola bad boy. It's like an Azusa Pacific Christian." -Dr. Reynolds

"Dante PWNS Milton." -Juliet San Nicolas

"Real men love Jane Austen." -Juliet San Nicolas

"I have a thing for male vocalists." -Sean Tosello

"R.A. Torrey scared the crap out of me this morning!" -Rachel Harris

"Did you just pray, 'Thank You, God, for his lightening-fast haircut?'" -Dr. Henderson

"It was published posthumously. Of course, it wasn't written posthumously." -Dr. Sanders

"It is impossible to look manly while drinking out of a straw." -Sean Hansen

"How is it that all the good-looking guys are in Torrey?!" -Elizabeth Bush

"Blessings are like the lovechild between fate and destiny." -Dave Martin

"My mom liked Simon and Garfunkle and the Monkeys, and my dad liked the Romanovs. What can I say?" -Mary Kate Reynolds

"Bam, Milton! Suck it! You just got pwned by the Bible!" -Rachel Harris

"I pray that You will make them smart at some point." -Nick Conrad, praying about my Torrey group

Going "Home"

One of my friends posted as his Facebook status something along the lines of:

"If home is where the heart is, then I'm leaving half of my heart behind."

Exactly how I feel. I'm sitting in my ridiculously clean dorm room waiting for my dad to come pick me up. My heart aches. I don't want to go. I'm torn between two homes. I love Biola and I want to stay, but it is quite obvious that I can't (they're officially kicking me out in five and a half hours). But I don't quite want to go home yet...I was there three weeks ago, and I don't miss it...but I do. It's a weird sensation. I want to be "at home"...just maybe not my "home."

It's more stressful than I care to deal with. I kind of like being the "independent" woman that I am, and I'm not sure if I'm ready to go back home and become the daughter I'm supposed to be. In my parents' eyes, I'm either perpetually younger than I really am, or significantly older. They either expect me to always be available and at home like I was when I was younger, liking the same things, being the same person I was when I was 12. At the same time, they expect me to be more grown up. To not be a kid anymore and always be hard at work in some form. That isn't who I am. I don't think they know who I am anymore. They don't understand college culture and how it has shaped me. They don't understand what I have been learning and how it has affected me...because they know the Siobhan of the past, not the Siobhan of the present. My friends here know me and understand me better than I know or understand myself. They know the struggles I have had with my major, my heart, my feeling of belonging, my definition of "home." They know my hopes and dreams, what angers me, how much I love hugs and hot tea. They know my little quirks, like my sassy remarks, but they love me and accept me anyway. They know I'm indecisive about my major, but they don't judge me for it.

It's going to be a struggle to adjust. A struggle to feel comfortable at home again. A struggle to feel loved in a different way. My family doesn't show love the way Quadratus and my Biola friends show their love, and I have to get used to that type of love again. I have to learn to feel safe in somewhere that isn't Biola. I have to learn to be around a family again. More accurately, I have to remember how to act around my parents. Remember to be sensitive to certain things and not mention certain things. I have to teach my body to wake up earlier and go to bed earlier than I'm used to doing in college. I have to condition my mind and heart to deal with someone who has limited mobility and is often in a lot of pain. I have to learn once again to read my father's emotions so I know when it is a good time to approach him and when doing so will cause strain in my family. I have to learn to cover my emotions in a way that I am not used to doing around my Torrey group and my close friends here. I have to learn to keep my mouth shut and "do as I'm told" to a degree that I have not had to for the months I've been at Biola. I have to become the eldest daughter figure again, and to be honest, I don't want to.

Reflections on My First Semester of College

I can't believe my first semester of college is over. Was it really four months ago that I sat in a circle with a bunch of Quadratus people and tried to remember everyone's name? That night, I had no idea what I was getting myself into or how I would hold up. I was in a strange city, at a strange college, in a strange cult-ish honors program in which we had to read strange books. It was the most awesome experience of my life. I am surrounded by loving, encouraging, fun people who love God. I get to read books by some of the wisest writers of the past.

I have endured days where I don't know how I made it through. I have had days that were some of the happiest of my life. I have made discoveries about myself and God. I have learned how to love and appreciate people. So many amazing people and memories fill my mind when someone says "Biola" or "Torrey." I am blessed. So much blessed.

Memories from my first semester (so that I will remember that every semester has its ups and downs):
-Torrientation week. When I was sick, homesick, and exhausted beyond belief, but when I met some of the most amazing people ever.
-Breakfast with Quadratus the Friday (?) of Torrientation week.
-My first Torrey session. When our seers brought us cookies.
-All the quotes from the Quadratus quote book.
-Labor Day BBQ at Elizabeth's grandparents' house duringwhich we decided that Cale needs to watch Muppet Treasure Island ...which we still haven't done.
-Watching Hercules after one of our sessions.
-Watching Prince of Egypt after our Exodus session.
-Staying up all night writing my first Torrey paper.
-Crying about not knowing what to major in.
-Getting hugs by Robynne that lift my feet of the ground and make me giggle.
-Having a Reynolds session the day after my birthday.
-Going to dinner with Torrey kids after turning in our papers.
-Going to the park and playing on the swings, eating ice cream, then going to the Reynolds house and watching An Education with Sean, Austin, and Mary Kate. We then made tea and discussed beauty.
-Tea and long talks with Amanda Lee.
-Giggling with Elizabeth at everything.
-The Quadratus Christmas party.
-Late night runs to Berry Cool during which the Berry Cool employees told us we were being too loud.
-Sitting in Sutherland and eavesdropping on Torrey sessions.
-Quadratus dinners.
-Prayer time in session.
-Our late-to-church adventures.
-Being so stressed that I am reminded anew of God's grace.
-Having Don Rags over!
-Don Rags study sessions in the Production Center.
-Quadratus Savers run during out midterm bye.
-Floor retreat with Libertas.
-Libertas girls night in downtown Fullerton.
-Torrey music concert.
-Being stressed about getting Paradise Lost read during paper week.
-The love and support of Biola people during finals week.
-Quadratus and their love and prayers.

I love the Torrey community. During our session with Dr. Reynolds, he told us that the world will hate us, but in reference to our time in Torrey, he told us, "Here you are safe. Here you belong." That is what I have felt this semester.

Quote of the Night

Context: Dr. Sanders drew a diagram of the tabernacle consisting of two rectangles which kind of resembled a refrigerator with a freezer on top. After a comment about that this was said...

"I think it's sacrilegious that inside the Holy of Holies is your frozen chicken nuggets."
-Sean Tosello

Kinda made my night.