Unexpected Lessons from Grad School

Unexpected Lessons from Grad School

People often ask me, “Why Grad School?... Was it worth it?... Would you do it again?... Has your degree helped you?” I usually don’t know how to honestly answer those questions without exposing some of the most vulnerable pieces of my heart. Call it self-preservation, fear or hard heartedness, but I typically respond by shrugging my shoulders, cracking a smile and saying, “Yeah, it was good.” Is it a lie? I don’t think so but I’m also sure that “good” doesn’t quite depict the culminating experience that Grad School turned out to be.  The lessons I learned from the two years spent at Texas State have less to do with the degree I earned and more about redemption, hope and healing. Lessons I never expected. Lessons that I can’t explain without sharing a grief that still has a tendency to cripple my heart with fear.

Few people have heard the story in its entirety, mostly because I hate sharing “Debbie Downer” stories, so I don’t, which ultimately causes me to unintentionally shut people out. It is never my goal but always the consequence when I let the fear of failure, rejection, disappointment and getting hurt rule my heart. The message it sends to others is often that I don’t care, I can’t trust or I have no depth. None of which I believe to be true, but sometimes what is interpreted, so I’ve been told.

So, putting that little invisible shield of protection I instinctively hold around my heart aside, I will share the following story. Not for pity sake or anything like that, but to share and attest to what God has done and is doing in my life. Having survived some of my darkest days, the only thing I seem to know for sure at this point in my life is that God knows and loves me more than I know and love myself. God is love and love is the only thing that continues to heal my heart and bring me life. I’m beyond grateful for the people God has placed in my life, new and old, who demonstrate and remind me of His unchanging love, something I so easily forget.

Eastern

To fully understand my grad school experience, my undergrad experience needs to be understood.

During my senior year of college, I had gone home for Thanksgiving Break like most college students. The following two weeks were finals and only one semester remained until graduation. I had plans to go to Europe after graduation and pursue youth ministry. I was sure it was what I wanted to do after having been involved with Young Life and Sambica the past six years. It was an exciting time and life was good. However, life doesn’t always go as planned or as desired come to find out. Sometimes it’s painful, dark and confusing.

The Sunday after Thanksgiving I headed back to Spokane with a friend who needed a ride to Whitworth. We loaded up my car, hit the road and headed back to the reality of finals and studying. Halfway through the drive near Vantage, we came across a car accident where a car had flipped and remained upside down. It was obvious that the people involved had just left in an ambulance minutes before. I had seen car accidents in the past, but nothing shook me to the core the way this one did. When I saw the passenger side of the car, my intuition immediately put a pit in my stomach and my heart in my throat. I couldn’t comprehend it, and all I remember saying to my friend is, “Whoever was the passenger in that car didn’t live. Maybe we should pray.” I remember silently praying for the family and friends of whoever was involved in the accident because I knew it was going to be heartbreaking. As we continued our drive, I couldn’t get the image out of my head. It haunted me the entire drive back to Spokane and the unnerving feeling wouldn’t go away.

Hours after getting back to Cheney, I received news that the passenger of the car was one of my best friends who I had lived with and been going to school with at Eastern. It flipped my world upside down and I was devastated and felt a brokenness that I never imagined. I was in complete shock and my life became a total blur. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep andI couldn’t think and basically wandered around on autopilot in survival mode.  It was a restless type of pain and anguish that nothing in the world could quench. The scene of the accident was forever imprinted on my mind and it felt like a knife to the heart.

Ashley’s memorial service ended up being later in the week during finals and I emailed my teachers what had happened and requested to take finals at a later date. Some were great, some just didn’t care. I had one teacher tell me I had to choose between going to her funeral and failing the class, or staying in Cheney and taking my final. I chose the funeral.

Regardless, I ended up failing all of my finals, and subsequently most of my classes that semester which included a Leadership class I needed to graduate. My graduation plans were out the window and I had to basically redo my entire senior year in order to graduate. My time at Eastern became the darkest days of my life and I felt numb to everything… Grief is a strange thing and it’s hard to process. I’m so thankful for people who loved me through that time and forced me get up and keep on walking when all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and hide from the world.

One thing that sticks out to me about Ashley, the funeral, ways in which people tried to remember her life,  her tombstone,  is the verse Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.”

It was her favorite verse and it became a symbol of remembrance. Each time I saw it or heard it, the words stung a little and it was like pouring salt in a wound. It annoyed me because I think it was the first time I really began to question God’s purpose for my life. I felt harmed, wounded, and hopeless, like my life only held sadness and disappointment in the future. I didn’t doubt the truth of the verse, just the purpose of my life and how it fit into that promise. My view became more about surviving, rather than living. The whole message of the verse felt ironic and I began to doubt that it could be true for my life.

It took a few years to feel like myself again but I always had a silent wound that was gnawing at my heart. I felt like a failure for having to redo my senior year of classes and for never getting certified as a Recreation Therapist. I was afraid of getting close to people because I was hell bent on never feeling the way I felt when Ashley died. Fear of pain and failure ruled my life and I couldn’t conquer it on my own.

About four years after the accident, God put some pretty incredible friends in my life, two of which who have loved me more than I feel like I deserved (They freaking named their kitten after me! That kind of love!... though cats and I aren’t BFF’s, but that’s beside the point). We all basically started working together at the same time and part of the pay was “housing.” The girls lived in a partially finished double wide and the guys lived in a trailer and a cabin the size of a glorified tent right next to each other (In Bellevue, believe it or not). We were all dirt poor, yet it was one of the richest times of my life.

It’s funny to look back on and think that God used a girl, three guys, a double wide and a trailer with lots of laughs to flip my life right side up and steer me in a direction I never imagined. It was like our own little sitcom. Two of them eventually got married and moved back home to Texas. It didn’t take long for them to convince me to move to Texas, what we joked would be the “promised land” and a fresh start.  

(To read the time lapse between Eastern and Texas State, my 2^nd blog starts where this leaves off. It’s like the sequel and the prequel of the all at the same time. J)

Texas State

After two years of living in Texas, starting grad school in a city where I didn’t know anyone at the time was another leap of faith and a little scary. I felt like it was where God was calling me; however it definitely made me reflect a lot on my undergraduate experience. Memories that I wanted to let go of and heal from.

I happened to land a Graduate Assistantship which meant I would be poor, rather than really poor. Most GA’s work in the department they either got their undergraduate degree in or the department they are currently attending grad school. Due to apparent overflow needs, I didn’t get placed in my department. Instead, I got placed in, drum roll please….Fashion Merchandising! I distinctly remember the first day of work and being told that I was going to GA for a Textile Science class and a Textile Product Analysis class. Not only that, but would be helping with a huge research project in Texas Sustainability and Wool products. I actually thought it was a joke at first because I couldn’t think of anyone more under qualified to be a GA for those classes… and who wants to deal with wool in the Texas heat?!

I remember feeling so judged by all the students whenever I walked into class… Chuck Taylors, Jeans and a Northface fleece definitely did not scream Fashionista! I should have just donated myself and wardrobe as the class project. I had to cover the class a few times during labs without the professor around. Students would come up to me dressed to the hilt and ask me questions about their project. They would show me their fabrics, different stitches they had done and ask me if they were doing it right. My typical response was, “It looks great to me, but before I answer your question, I think you should reread the chapter in your book for optimal learning and ask the professor tomorrow if you still have questions… all while I’m shouting in my head, “I’m such a fraud!” I was always super impressed, and if it were up to me, everyone would have received an A. If only I could create half of what they did!

For the next year, that was my job and I learned more than I ever imagined about fabric quality, various types of stitches, the best type of washing machine to use, which wool is the itchiest and the most appropriate laundry detergent for different types of stains. Luckily, I made it out alive without blowing my cover with all the 250 fashion undergrads.

After the first year of Grad School, I had my doubts about what I was doing and where I was at with my life. I often thought, “Why am I doing this and is it really worth it? How did I end up here?”As Spring Semester ended, I got a meeting request without a lot of information. I showed up to the Health and Human Services Department with a lot of anxiety. I literally thought that I had done something wrong or maybe somehow I didn’t qualify for grad school or something because of my undergraduate transcripts. I had a million things going through my head, like how I was going to have to redo classes or how I was getting booted from the program or something.

I walked into the office and sat down anxiously awaiting what we were going to meet about. After some small talk, the statement, “I just want to talk to you about the undergraduate Recreation Leadership class” immediately gave me a pit in my stomach and a million thoughts, memories and feelings flooded my mind. I expected a really big disappointment, however, the next statement I heard, “We have a vacancy in the fall and want you to be the instructor for the class,” took me a minute to comprehend. I think I sat there for awhile in silence and just nodded my head (I’m not sure which way) and thought, “You do realize I FAILED that class, right?” I was a little bit in shock and left the office not sure of what I had or hadn’t agreed to. I just kept thinking, “Who am I to teach a Leadership Class? A class that I failed of all things? I don’t even like being up in front of people, let alone teaching young adults about Leadership!?” It all seemed like the most ironic moment of my life.

I thought and prayed a lot about it the next couple of days and all I could do was conclude God was clearly doing something in my life. It was all too ironic and coincidental for it to be plain old happenstance. I once heard the perspective that sometimes coincidence is the fingerprint of God working out His master plan and anonymously (or not so anonymously) revealing a larger piece of the puzzle.  I decided to just go with it and to wait and see what would happen. I never admitted to anyone that I was about to teach a college class that I had actually failed, and to this day I’m not sure if anyone knew.

Around that time, I also felt like God was renewing and restoring a passion I had for ministry. It was the same passion that I had when I initially went to Eastern and the same burden God placed on my heart when I first believed in Him as a Junior Higher. Having never gone to church growing up, my heart was completely captivated by God the first time I heard the gospel. I knew my life was changed and there was nothing I wanted more than for my family and friends to experience the same. God only continued to confirm the passion, especially towards the end of high school when I witnessed my whole family place their faith in the Lord and get baptized. It was a confirmation that God can change the heart of anyone, me included. Throughout grad school, I was constantly being reminded of that and burdened to share the gospel with the people around me.

Fall semester rolled around and I was sitting in my office one day contemplating how and why I was teaching college Leadership classes, all while having a burden to start a ministry on campus or around the San Marcos Area. None of which I had ever fathomed. It was a strange realization that a period of my life that was filled with such hope and faith was colliding with an era of darkness and doubt and it had all come full circle in that moment. God was clearly preparing me for something I couldn’t deny and was giving me a purpose I didn’t fully understand. I randomly thought, maybe I can start a ministry instead of write a thesis. It seems way more practical to implement what I’ve learned rather than just write about it, right?

Long story short, the department ended up giving me permission to start and develop a recreational ministry for kids in San Marcos alongside one of my professors who amazingly jumped on board with the idea. It was crazy to see all the ways in which God opened doors, whether it was funding, permission from the university, volunteers, grants and land. My professor ended up getting tenure and now gets to continue on with the program which is really exciting to see… but I will spare you of the details for now.

During recent trips back to Texas, I’ve reflected a lot about grad school and reasons why God led me to Texas State, ultimately making me face and deal with old wounds and heartache that I never intended to deal with other than trying to forget Eastern, which for the most part I had done a pretty good job. Where once I questioned and doubted God’s plan and purpose for my life, God healed my heart and reminded me that there is hope. I now know God didn’t forget about me and always had a plan to love me intentionally and personally, even when I doubted it. In very intricate and personal ways, call it coincidence or happenstance, God connected more pieces of the puzzle together to help me see the big picture of His plan.

If nothing else, I can attest to the fact that we all have wounds that cripple our hearts, and we all need God’s love to heal us. In Him, we can find hope and redemption. God gives us a purpose, a hope and redeems our future when we trust and believe.

Do I still have fears? Yes. Do I still question my purpose and plan? Yes.

However, like I said before, the only thing I seem to know for sure at this point in my life is that God knows and loves me more than I know and love myself. God is love and love is the only thing that continues to heal my heart and bring me life.

So, yes! Grad school was good.

Hoaxwagen, Smokeswagen, that's my Volkswagen! The sequel to the Saga.

Hoaxwagen, Smokeswagen, that’s my Volkswagen! The Sequel to the Saga…

It’s been awhile since I have given an update on the Hoaxwagen. If you have been wondering, it’s still a lemon. No doubt about it. It never ceases to amaze me how many ridiculous things can happen to one car.

Smokeswagen

Unfortunately, the Hoaxwagen became the smokeswagen shortly after I wrote the last blog about my Volkswagen. I was driving home from the grocery store, roasting in my car because it has no AC thinking about how hot it was. I pulled up to a stoplight and noticed what looked like heat waves right on the other side of my windshield.  I wondered if I was imagining it because I felt like I was wandering through the Sahara Desert. I had an instinct to check my temperature gage and it was slowly climbing… “Oh no, here we go,” I thought. I sat there impatiently staring at the red light, the “heat waves”, and the temperature gage strategizing how I was going to make it home with all my groceries before the inevitable hit.

Right before the light turned red, the heat waves became billowing white steam, and I remember thinking, “This must be what they’re talking about!” I had no place to pull over and decided to drive since I was only a mile away…. Until the temperature gage reached the red zone and I knew I couldn’t drive anymore. I immediately pulled over fearing my engine would melt, into a drive through taco hut of all places.

I called my BFF’s at Volkswagen and asked for their advice about what to do. They said I could let it cool down, drive it until it overheats, then pull over and repeat the process all over until I got home. Simple enough, right? No! Have you ever tried to cool something down on pavement in the Texas Heat? It’s like blowing into an oven hoping it will drop in temperature substantially. Not a quick fix, that’s for sure.

Long story short, it literally took me about an hour to go less than a mile. I probably pulled over at least 10 times waiting for it to cool down. I called a tow truck company and asked where they suggested I take my car since the VW dealership was 40 miles away and most places don’t work on VW’s. Their response was, “Spanky’s!”

I knew immediately that the saga of the hoaxwagen was only going to continue…

Spanky’s

According to Spanky’s, the smoke wasn’t anything related to the problem with the fan or the coolant like the VW guys were talking about. Instead, my radiator blew and leaked water all over the engine causing the steam. Which ended up being a lot cheaper… however, I still don’t have AC. I guess it’s better than not having an engine!

I-35

I was driving down I-35 to pick up a friend who needed a ride to the airport. All of a sudden, my side-view mirror just up and fell off my car. I couldn’t believe it. How does a mirror just fall of a car? I’m talking, not just the mirror, but the whole thing. What am I suppose to tell the insurance company?... My car was hit on I-35… by a strong gust of wind!?

Luckily, the wire that controls how to adjust the mirror was barely hanging on. All I could hear was BAM! BAM!...BAM! from the mirror hitting the door at 70mph. Oh, and the honks and gestures of people trying to tell me that my mirror was hanging on for dear life… As if I didn’t know!? There aren’t a lot of places to pull over on I-35.

Once arriving in Austin, I picked up my friend and immediately drove to Walgreens for some Duct Tape. Of course they didn’t have any so we settled for clear packaging tape. After using about half the roll to remount my mirror, it was “fixed!” My car looked like it had a cast, but it was fixed!

Parking Garage

Parking is a nightmare on campus during the day and I felt lucky to be parked on the top level of the garage. It’s better than driving home and having to take the bus to campus. Or so I thought that infamous afternoon as I was pulling out of the parking spot.

Right when I started to move, I heard a really obnoxious sound. I had no idea what it was. I started to drive and wind down around the levels of the parking garage, and the noise didn’t go away. I realized it was my car and I pulled over in a handicap spot to investigate what the heck was going on.

Upon getting out, I walked around to the front only to discover that my bumper had fallen off and I was driving over half of it. It was being held on by two little screws. Unbelievable!

Luckily, I still had a partial roll of packaging tape in my car and I propped it up enough to get home. I had no idea what I was going to tell the insurance company… luckily they agreed to pay for the mirror and the bumper. It was like a two for one deal!

The Door

Upon picking up my car from the mechanic, it wasn’t until I got home that I realized they didn’t put my door back together properly when fixing my mirror. It’s impossible to open the door from the inside. Either someone has to walk around and physically open the door, or you have to roll down the window and awkwardly open the door from the outside. Awesome! (They said they would fix it for free but it will be a couple weeks until I can get it in).

Always keeping it classy with the hoaxwagen!

Farley's "Awkward Family Photos!"

Everyone has probably heard of the website Awkward Family Photos. If you have not, I highly suggest you check it out. It is easily one of my favorite websites. Not only can I appreciate the humor in the awkward misfortune, but I also have empathy. I as well was ignorantly awkward as a child. About three or four years of my childhood can provide enough pictures to create a separate Awkward Family Photos website. However, I will provide just a few highlights. Fortunately I had a great family that continued to love me despite the “awkward years.” I literally do not remember looking like the pictures below. So funny!

I do not have the infamous “Christie Farley” picture that many of you have seen in digital format yet… coming soon! Those of you who have not seen it, an epic childhood picture exists of my sister and I. It is taken when I am about eight years old and I look exactly like Chris Farley in Tommy Boy. Hence the nickname, “Christie Farley.”

However, I think the following pictures will suffice until Christie Farley makes it to the digital world.

Update: "Christie Farley" went digital. Enjoy! haha.

Okay, I have to put atleast one redeeming picture of Stacy and I where we turned out relatively "normal!" :)

The Hoaxwagon, Smokeswagon, that's my Volkswagen!

Purchasing my Jetta about three years ago has been a lot like biting into a caramel covered apple, only to discover a caramel covered onion with no refund policy. I thought it would be convenient, practical, and affordable… not the case at all! It is a total hassle, expensive as all get out, and a total nuisance. I think it is fair to say I bought a hoax.

The Infamous Tennis Ball…

The first month I owned it, both headlights went out at the same time while driving down West Lake Sammamish Parkway. Terrifying? Yes. I immediately went to the dealership and they agreed to replace the headlights free of charge since I had just bought it. I got a phone call the next day explaining it would cost $900..

They proceded to tell me that one of my headlights was loose, and since I had jammed a tennis ball in there to keep the entire headlight from falling out, all of the wiring melted when the tennis ball burned up from the electrical current. Since the headlight burnout was deemed negligent on my part, they were holding me responsible for the cost… My response was, “Are you joking me? You think I jammed a Tennis Ball into my engine to keep my car from falling apart?””

After “discussing” the situation for an hour, the manager agreed to pay for all of the damage done to my car. They fixed the wiring and replaced the headlights… Ironically, I recently found out that the brightness of my lights are illegal. Awesome! People flash their lights at me constantly. When I actually turn on my high beams, I think the brightness is comparable to a police helicopter or a Search & Rescue Chopper… not really, but they are so bright. Darkness turns to daylight with those beams.

The Tow Truck & the Tree…

One day, I attempted to start my Jetta, but no such luck. After multiple attempts at jumping it, I realized I needed to call a tow truck. AAA recommended a company that promptly came out with a giant flatbed truck. A little over the top in my opinion, but I figured at least it would be safer….The man hoisted my car up onto the truck and secured it. For some unknown reason, he decided to drive the truck up the driveway, which was a fairly steep incline, and “parked it.” I walked up to the driver side door to fill out the paperwork and he hopped out.

As I was signing my “Herbie Hancock”, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the tow truck start to roll down the hill with my car on it. I yelled and the man tried to run and open the door but he had locked himself out. In a panic, he leaped through the window, and tried to hit the break with his hand. The truck began to pick up speed and apparently, he couldn’t reach the break. The tow truck picked up even more speed, barely missed another car, and crashed straight into a tree… with my car on it!

Between the weight and speed of the truck, the force of the impact created a hard collision. A few big branches fell out of the tree landing on my windshield, hood, and roof of my car. I stood there in disbelief, and all I could mumble was, “You gotta be joking me!” The man’s legs were still dangling out the window and I wondered how bad the collision must have hurt in such a position.

He eventually started moving and slowly got out of the truck. I froze in disbelief with Instant Replay running on a continuous loop through my mind. He got out and just stared at me. I had no idea what to say. His first instinct was to walk over and check the tree, not my car. “Do you think the tree is going to be alright,” were the first words I heard. I still could not speak and just stood there in shock and disbelief.

He eventually hopped in the truck and drove away. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to make a police report or what. I decided calling my insurance agent would be the best bet. The woman asked what happened and I couldn’t believe what I was saying. “My car was on a tow truck and it crashed into a tree!”

Ironically, the dealership called the next day and said my car started when they put the key in. They couldn’t find anything relating to why it wouldn’t start, but because I got it towed, it now had body damage.  One of the branches put a big paint chip in the roof of my car, which is still there today. They denied all of it, and I didn’t want to spend the money and hassle of taking them to court. (Long frustrating story)

The Broken Key

It was Christmas Vacation and I was returning to Texas, and my sister flew back with me for a visit. Upon, arriving to the Park N’ Fly in Dallas, I pulled out my keys and panic began. I had my automatic key, but no key attached. The actual “key” broke off the alarm key. I could lock and unlock my car, I just couldn’t drive it. I looked everywhere. No luck! Keep in mind, it was also snowing. It never snows in Texas. Stacy and I were freezing.

We rented a car for an arm and a leg and I reluctantly called AAA. I was still a little shell shocked from my previous Tow Truck experience. The man finally showed up and we had it towed to the Volkswagen Dealership in Dallas. The fact that the dealership’s address was “Lemmon Avenue” was more than fitting. My car is a lemon!

Replacing my key should have been done in about a day, but for some reason they kept giving me excuses of why it wasn’t fixed. Tired of reasons, my sister, a friend, and I unexpectedly showed up to check on the status. The man explained they discovered additional problems to my car and were fixing them. He told me I had a cracked oil pan, damage to the bottom of my car and the door was dented. He said it was going to cost me about $1400… “You gotta be joking me!”

I demanded to see my car, and just by the looks of it, you could tell my car somehow fell off the tow truck. I was again in shock and disbelief and just stood there and stared. Unbelievable! It took a few days and a few “discussions” but the tow truck reluctantly finally agreed to pay for the damage. I still had to pay a whopping $400 for the key though. What in the world?!

Smokeswagon!

There is no denying that Texas is incredibly hot. However, my summer became even hotter when my AC went out. My jetta literally turned into an oven on wheels. I took it to the dealership, and they said it was going to be $1300. Stubborn and skeptical, I decided not to fix it because it was about to be winter and I figured I could get it fixed elsewhere for cheaper.

Unfortunately, very few Texans know how to work on foreign cars so it is equally expensive. Being a grad student, I refuse to pay $1300 for a fan. Now I feel like an ant under a magnifying glass driving down I-35. People are like, just roll down the windows… Okay, rolling down the windows in Texas heat and humidity is like aiming a hair dryer right at my face. Trust me, it doesn’t help!

Soon after taking my car to the dealership, my coolant light came on. Hmmm?!? Could it be a side effect of smashing into a tree while on a tow truck. The fact that it fell off a toe truck? Maybe the handy tennis ball failed to do its job? I don't know... I took it to a different place, and they said I had a very small coolant leak and to keep an eye on it. If I didn’t, my engine could start smoking and overheat. 

So now, every time I fill up for gas, I have to fill up on coolant so the Volkswagen doesn’t become the Smokeswagon. I think it is eventually inevitable.

That’s my Volkswagen…

In Between Seattle & Austin...

It was almost two years ago that I quit my job and decided to move across country. I packed up everything I could possibly fit into my car, sparing only enough room for my dad to “comfortably” sit. It was then I learned why Jettas have good gas mileage. They are too small to fit anything besides the necessities. My idea of necessities changed a few times too before I could actually close all four doors and the trunk. It was a complete leap of faith.

I was leaving behind family, friends, familiarity, and my life, as I knew it. I had no idea what I was getting into other than I was taking a job in East Texas in Outdoor Education. In a place that couldn’t be more opposite than the Emerald City, land of plenty.  I was heading to the land of cactus, saloons, and BBQ. The Wild Wild West if you will, or so I thought…

To say I was a bit culture shocked when I arrived on the Ranch I would live and work for the next 18 months was an understatement. I spent the first few weeks with severe migraines, only to have the doctor explain it was because my eyes weren’t accustomed to sunlight and I no longer had access to Starbucks. Go figure!

After going through cloud and caffeine withdrawals, a cheap emergency pair of sunglasses and my first real glass of sweet tea made the transition much smoother. What was an initial shock soon became my new norm. Though there were no saloons, cactuses, or Texas Rangers other than Josh Hamilton and friends, plenty of the stereotypes were true. Billboards advertising Gun Shows, fried anything and everything, Texas flags everywhere, and occasional southern accents that sounded like a foreign language now filled my life.

I soon found out that Seattleites had major stereotypes as well. Anytime I said I was from the Northwest, I could usually expect the following list of questions…

1.       Does it really rain everyday there?

2.       Is Starbucks really on every corner?

3.       Have you ever been to the Grey’s Anatomy Hospital?

4.       I hear there are only a few hours or days with sun there?

5.       Are there a lot of communists?

My personal favorite, which I’ve heard, at least 100 times is, “Have you ever been to Forks, WA and encountered a vampire?!” … Thank you, Twilight! No, I am not a vampire, nor is Forks, WA a place that should even be on the top ten places to visit in Washington. So funny! The vampire question continues to be asked at least once a week without fail…

There were many ups and downs in East Texas, but I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. The people God placed in my life, the experiences I had, and the things that I learned were priceless and have directed me to the place I am today. God blessed me with incredible friends and moments that will forever make me laugh. I saw God work in incredible ways and had so many people model what faith really meant. One special family helped rekindle the passion and love I have for Therapeutic Recreation and Child Life. It was a seed planted in my heart that grew and influenced me to go back to grad school in hopes of pursuing my dreams. The only thing standing in my way were excuses and doubts and they showed me what it was like to have faith without answers, and that God was more than enough. That lesson alone is priceless.

In August, I officially moved to the Austin area and started grad school. It was another leap of faith, but God has totally provided everything I need. Living in Austin is more than I could hope for and I absolutely love it. I will officially graduate in the Spring of 2012 with a Masters in Therapeutic Recreation. The plan is to get certified as a Recreation Therapist and Child Life Specialist.

I cannot believe it has been almost two years that I have lived in Texas. Time has really flown down here. Though I love Austin so much, I would love to see mountains, large bodies of water, and weather besides the sun… of course family and friends!  I’m excited about the recent internship I landed in Seattle and will be returning to the land of Northface, REI, Starbucks, and Vampires soon! Cannot wait for the continued adventure ahead…