It is 11:47 p.m. central time and I am sitting on my bed in my friend’s basement thinking to myself…
What in the world am I doing??
and
Wow, this feels so right.
At. The. Same. Time.
Let’s start with the second one. Tonight has been a really fun night. I was originally super bummed to have Greek starting tomorrow because it meant I couldn’t be in KC with my loves for 4th of July. And when the day started off – I definitely was a little bummed still. Last year’s 4th celebration was REAL good.
However the day was amazing. I attended church with Best Friend and the Funny One (and loved it) where I met a ton of new people, some North Park students who I will be in class with. Everyone was really nice and made me feel very welcomed.
Then Best Friend, the Funny One and I went shopping together which was SO fun. I have missed Best Friend so much and it’s fun just doing every day normal stuff and thinking, oh wait, this is our life now! Then we had one of their friends, Katie, over for dinner and a starbucks run and firework awesomeness. We went to this litte tiny park where there was literally 5 different sets of fireworks going on. Totally illegal and probably about 50 yards away from us. So we were surrounded by fireworks and it was so much fun. And we totally had dessert there of strawberries dipped in sour cream and rolled in sugar in the raw. It was awesome.
Then we came back home and I pulled out my greek stuff and tried to get ready for the first day of class tomorrow. Which is where that first thought comes into play.
I feel a little overwhelmed at the moment and realize that I’ll be fine, but it’s scary thinking about how intense this class is gonna be. A quiz everyday, exams every monday morning. It’s super intense. But I’ll be a greek master at the end right?? Right.
All that to say, I’m super anxious and excited for this new phase of life. I totally have “first day of school” jitters. What if no one likes me? (I can hear Lauren scoffing at that one). I’m just nervous but excited at the same time. It’s so great!
HERE WE GO GREEK!!!
12:30 am February 9th 2009
I usually don’t like posting this much during a week but I cannot help but post today.
Today is what we refer to as MAPS day. It’s the anniversary of the awful accident that my two friends Jeff and Amy and I survived.
One year ago yesterday the three of us set out for Monterrey, Mexico. We were going to check out the place where Amy was going to move to and be a missionary. At roughly 12:30 a.m. on Feb 9th we were hit by a drunk driver head on on I-35. The three of us all had injuries but pretty minor when you take into account all that could have happened. Jeff, who was driving, was the worst with broken bones in both legs and a concussion. Amy, who was in the passenger seat, had shredded tendons in her ankle and major bruising from the seat belt. And I, who was asleep in the back seat (unbuckled) had a severe sprained ankle with contusions on my head, arms, and basically my whole body.
There is no doubt in any of our minds that God saved our lives. He kept us alive that night and also changed our lives forever. The next few months were extremely difficult for each of us in our own way. We grew very very close and they are my MAPS…which is spanish for BFF. (Literally … it means mejores amigos para siempre which translates Best Friends Forever).
I also appreciate the many people who showed their love and support of me the next few days when they got the awful news about the accident. The body of Christ was unbelievable in that time.
So today I celebrate life as well as a bond that cannot be broken with these two awe-inspiring people.
For all things are from Him
I know sometimes that I rag on the whole being unemployed thing, because quite honestly, most of the time I don’t like it. BUT, I will say that there have been some great fruitful things that have come out of it. Mostly, I have found a new kind of dependence on God. I’ve frequently used the phrase “God provides” without really having a working understanding of what that even means. I moved home in late August without the slimmest idea of how long I’d be here or even how I would stay afloat. I can honestly say that these past 5 and a half months have looked nothing like I thought they would, and neither do the coming 6 months.
So I’ve decided to comprise a sort of list. A “What God has provided” list for me to take a moment and look back on. Shall we??
There of course is the obvious …. Time. Time to spend with my family in a horrible time of our lives. Time to spend with my goddaughter in what is proving to be one of the most difficult and forming years of her young life. Time to wrap my head around what it means to be a Seminary student. Time to just breathe and not have responsibilities.
Then there is a different kind of friendship. Most of my time here is spent with a very small group of people and almost all of them are married and with children of various ages. I don’t know what exactly that means about the stage of life I am. What I do know is that I am being shaped by my time with these women (and men). I am understanding more fully the work that goes into having a successful marriage and raising kids. I am being exposed to several types of parenting and the pros and cons of them. I am enjoying having these influences and knowing that each of these friends love me for who I am and the place I am in right now. They are great.
Also in the friendship category is what I’m going to call new friendship skills. This one needs to be split into two…
I’m learning in this time, how to be a better long distance friend. Now I’m not cured, I still have a hard time and sometimes let long distance get the best of me. But I find myself valuing the smallest forms of communication like texting or facebook chatting to the longer ones like skype or phone calls. (time wise). I am learning to make the effort to be in better communication and to have a better relationship with people farther away.
Second half – I am learning to be more real and less assuming with my friends here. I am allowing myself to have emotions and feel them and share them with my friends. I have long assumed that I am a “burden” on my friends when I’m hurting. That if I share what I’m really thinking that they’ll be like, ‘I’m out.’ I shared this with one of my friends this weekend and she was less than thrilled to hear that I’ve felt that way and clearly told me that she never expressed that toward me. It was good to hear, even though deep down I knew it. I am attempting at being more present with my friends despite my mood and realizing that even when I think I want to be alone, sometimes I’d rather be with them.
Next up is financially. I am still amazed at how God has continually provided for me exactly when I needed it. Whether that be a house-sitting job, a babysitting job or helping my mom with her business or even a change in insurance to save me money. He has kept me afloat financially and that is more than I can imagine. He is a Great God indeed.
Lastly, He has provided me with opportunities. Opportunities to do ministry with a wonderful group of 5th and 6th graders. Opportunities to talk ministry (which I sorely miss). Opportunities to serve others, and to be served. Opportunities to grow in my own faith. This time has not been fruitless and has not made me feel worthless (as a whole) because of the things that He provides in this category. Some of which I have talked about on here and will continue to talk about.
Mostly I just want to be thankful with this post. Thankful for all He has provided for me and the chances I get to look back and say, Wow God, look what you did. I don’t think in our culture we look at the little things He gives us every day enough.
all I can do is keep breathing
I realize that most people that have entered my life in the last 10 or so years have never met my dad, or really heard me talk about him or anything. We had a pretty rough last decade, he and I. So I think this post may help shed some light on a couple of things….
When my friends who know me first meet my mom there is always a pretty similar reaction… “She’s not what I expected … at all” is a common phrase. Mostly because my mom and I don’t really look alike at all. Especially those that knew me in KC and Michigan and know more of my “mexicanity” side, it comes as a shock when they meet my mom who is 100% southern white girl. She has light brown hair, she’s fair, and our features are not similar. My brother, on the other hand, looks a lot like her. It’s kinda scary how much he looks like her. He has her nose, her hair, her ears, her lighter skin. He is no doubt my mother’s son.
I, on the other hand, am my father’s daughter. My skin is more olive in color, my hair is dark and curly like his was. And much to my chagrin, I have his nose and his big ole floppy ears. Luckily I am a girl and get to cover them whith my hair. And the more I look at my life, the fabric of who I am, I am my dad’s daughter. I am loud like he was. A musician like he was. I like my music loud like he did. I love to cook like he did. I have a sense of adventure in me like he did. I love sports like he did. I’m stubborn like he was.
That’s not to say I don’t have anything in common with my mom, I do, but that’s not my point with this blog.
You see, for years I looked past the fact that I was like him because I was trying so hard to not be like him. things were so bad between us I couldn’t admit to having anything in common with him. But when someone is dying, especially when things have been rough, all those good memories come flooding into your mind. For me, in the last couple of days with my dad I realized that I had been supressing SO much. Yea, the last 10 years were harder than I’d have liked but the 14 years before that were almost magical. We were the happy family you see in commercials for bbq grills and baseball equipment. So after his death it was natural for me to start remembering those times which is when I realized how much I am like him.
Today as I was getting ready, I took a long look in the mirror. I saw my dad’s nose, those ears that I’ve hated since I was in middle school. My hair that was his hair. My eyes that look like his eyes. I tried so hard to be thankful that I have some of him in me. I prayed that I would be glad that I still have that memory of what he looks like, right there in the mirror. But I couldn’t.
Instead I was mad. Mad that I have to live the rest of my life without the hope of having him in my life. That if my kids look like me, they’ll look like him, the grandfather they’ll never know. Frustrated that my image in a constant reminder that he is not here.
Now, I know that sounds awful. I shouldn’t be mad that I look like him. And you may be reading this thinking, “whoa Alicia, that’s weird.” or whatever… but I’m okay with it. I’m okay with it because I am almost positive that God knows this is a phase I’m in. God knows that I am hurt and angry that my dad is gone. That it’s unfair that I have to live without him. I’m fairly sure that God is here with me, hating this reality I’m in with me. And allowing me to be in this place for just a little bit longer.
what? sorry no, I'm an avoider…
I’m kind of a failure.
The month of January is not yet over, but it’s almost there, and I have not finished my challenge. More so I should say I will not finish my challenge. But I’m okay with it. I blame this fact on the current events of my life. I spent the end of last week helping in the set up of the Covenant event that is currently going on in downtown Denver. And then I spent a good majority (like all of) Friday shuttling people back and forth from DIA and the hotel. And the whole weekend downtown at Connection (the part of event for youth pastors and worship pastors). So I have been non-stop going and therefore have not read much. So yea, I’ve failed at my January challenge of reading a ton of books. I basically only finished Lovely Bones.
But that’s neither here nor there as far as this post goes. Just a random general update.
So as I mentioned, I spent the whole weekend downtown at Connection. This was my 4th Connection (not consecutive, I missed last year) in my “ministry career” and usually, if I’m honest with myself, I find that I am mostly there for the community and fellowship of seeing past 4Cs interns that knew me in my high school years and other church people I’ve worked with and met over the years. This year, going into Connection, was no different. However, now that I’m on the other side, I find that God had a bigger purpose for me this year.
I went to more Seminars this year than in years past (2!). And I of course attended all the main sessions with all the great speakers. This year the theme was “The Beautiful Struggle.” The first session was all about how we as pastors (I use “we” lightly bc I’m not currently a pastor but you get my point) often minister out of places where we ourselves struggle personally, globally and in ministry. We were encouraged to turn in with a few people around us and share some personal struggles with each other. Now I have a problem sharing my struggles with my friends, nevermind complete strangers that I met five minutes ago. So I turned to those around me and let a couple of them share while avoiding eye contact with anyone directly in hopes to not have to share myself. Luckily I was in a large group and we didn’t make it to everyone before drawn back into the large group. I escaped that situation.
Then the rest of the day I got to spend time with my friends from KC. I got some much needed girl time when I agreed to go shopping with my friend Brooke. While wondering around Forever 21 Brooke started to ask me questions. Deep questions. Hard questions. Probing questions. So here I am, walking around, absently minding picking up sweatshirts and skirts, commenting on cuteness or not cuteness…. and attempting to sum up my feelings, emotions, general life going-ons. And it was hard. But at the same time I was glad she was asking…
The thing is, about 80% of the time I don’t want to be treated like the “dead dad” girl. Just like for most of my college life I didn’t want to be the “from a broken home” girl. So for that 80% of the time I don’t want anyone to ask how it’s going for me – grieving wise – and when in that mood when I am asked “How are you?”….”Great” rolls of my tongue. but then there’s that 20% of the time that I DO want someone to ask. I want people to remember that I’m hurting and that behind this mask of “I’m okay” is the pain of regret, guilt, anger, sadness and about 100 other unidentifiable emotions.
Then that night, in worship, I realized something pretty huge for me. God gave me this gift of being able to not be working or in a full-time ministry setting right now in order to give me the space/time/whatever to grieve and try and heal from my relationship with my dad and this sudden loss. Only the thing is, I’m an avoider. Meaning I run from my emotions in order to not feel like a victim. I’ve been this way my whole life, I know that I have, and honestly I’m okay with it. However, God is not okay with it. and He let me know that on Saturday night.
So Sunday morning found me in my best friend’s hotel room being open and raw with how my life is going. which has also sent me into a whirlwind of emotions and raw honesty. So that’s where I’m at. I am no longer allowing myself to answer questions on a surfacey level as long as the person asking is willing to hear the truth.
I tend to rant about being real. I have these high expections of the church being a place to be real and that friends should be able to handle your realness… but in that respect I am a HUGE hypocrite. I do not like being real. or vulnerable. or any other catch words we use for community. However I do believe that we should be more vulnerable and not shy away from struggles.
So here’s me trying to be real. Be prepared if you are my friend that I am going to be more real and if you can’t handle that, it’s okay to tell me. But be prepared if you ask me what’s going on in my head… you may not like the answer.
It's A-maize-ing.
So I’ve started to volunteer with C4 (which is actually supposed to be like C to the 4th, exponant style). Don’t ask me what it stands for cause I can’t ever remember, but what you need to know is that it is the youth group type night for the 5th and 6th graders at my home church. We meet twice a month and have some great times. Last friday we went to a corn maze up in Erie, CO for some fall fun. It was awesome. no it was beyond awesome! Seriously, it was so fun just running around the maze in the pitch black darkness with the kids. Total successful outing.
Let’s just throw in some quotes in here…
5th grade girl: “Alicia, you’re gonna be cold”
Me: “No I’m not, I’ve got my puffy vest on, it’s the warmest thing EVER!”
her: “but what about your arms”
Touche 5th grader, Touche….
5th grade boy: “Alicia, can I be in your group?”
Me: “Of course! but it’s probably gonna be all girls, so you might want to go with one of the boys.”
him: “It’s alright, I just wanna be with you.”
Tear.
Then my favorite, said by one of the moms that joined us. Said after we have been immersed in the maze for about a half an hour, while looking at the map and planning our route.
“WAIT! We’re on the black lines? I thought we were in the white part!”
Then a response by a 5th grade boy: “No, that’s the corn.”
thanks for the memories
Nine days ago my internship ended. It was a bittersweet moment as I said goodbye to students and handed in my keys, knowing though that I still had three weeks in Kansas City to look forward to.
I had spent the last 6 months fretting over the question that I literally got asked about every 10 minutes …. “So Alicia, What’s next?” I thought for sure I’d have something figured out before I left Hillcrest. But with a week to go, I had gotten used to the fact that I didn’t know and it was okay to tell people that I didn’t know. Although I was getting sick of saying “I don’t know” and having people give me this look of terror like I was about to jump out of an airplane with no parachute. I was confident that God was going to work it out like He so beautifully has in the past 2 years with all the internship stuff.
And I was right. (insert the I told you so dance here). On Wednesday morning before I was done at Hillcrest it all fell into place. It started with a phone call I received from North Park Theological Seminary. I was accepted! (yes I was actually concerned I wouldn’t be). I called home immediatly to tell my mom my great news. After a ton of calls that day she informed me of a great “in the meantime” job in Colorado which cemented my move home.
So on August 23rd I will be moving back to the CO to live in my mom’s basement, start my Seminary classes online and hopefully start a job there while I look for more perminant work. I am applying to jobs in Youth Ministry but as I am realistic with myself, this process could take months (or more) to really get the right fit at the right church.
So for the past nine days I’ve been setting up my North Park stuff, enjoying some great alone time, house sitting to keep the funds coming and dreading the fact that I’m about to say good bye to Kansas City and some of my favorite people who have made living here so much fun. I haven’t really thought about it until today, sitting here writing this blog. I’ve had some great times here over the last year and a half. I’m a little wary of going home because I am not the same girl that left there two years ago.
But to quote my new fav She & Him song… Change is hard…I should know.
Change is hard, but it’s also the thing that keeps you moving forward. The next chapter in my life can and will be as good as the last chapter. So for now, I’m going to enjoy my last 12 days in Kansas City. And look forward to the newness of moving back home.