"much like the kingdom of God."

Romans 12:4-5

   "For just as we have many members in one body and all the members do not have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another."

I'm a little sweaty from walking in the concrete jungle from the Metro stop. In my ears Siri tells me that I have "arrived at my destination".

An hour and half early.

I don't mind arriving early though. Even though my iPhone's GPS means I've literally arrived at my destination, I've also metaphorically arrived. This has been a destination I've been walking towards for months now. In all honesty it's been about 8 months since I first began to pray about finding my faith community here in Washington, DC.

And I certainly did arrive this beautiful Sunday morning.

As I literally sat in the shadow of the temple, waiting for the doors to open, I savored in the glory of the Sunday morning. Around me were a mix of people heading to church, running and those who you could tell might not have a permanent home. Yet all seemed content. I conversed with everyone around me as I headed into the chapel.

Since I was early it was just me and few other people. The beauty of the sanctuary took my breath away. The white stone and colorful glass widows depict a glorious representation of God and his kingdom. However, the beauty of His kingdom I had yet to truly see.

As more people began to filter into the sanctuary my mind kept going back to the first correspondence I had with the pastor of this church 7 months earlier.

One of  the first things Pastor Donna Claycomb Sokol told me was that the congregation of MVP reminded her of what she thought the kingdom of God truly looked like.

Today I saw that statement in its truest form.

The cast of characters I was blessed to get to meet this morning made my heart almost swell with joy. I was moved by strangers who quickly became friends. A faith community I blended into very quickly as well. As we shared hugs and laughter and later coffee after the service, I could not help but smile.

There is an atmosphere present in this church of genuine people. Already I have been a product of that from welcoming messages and prayers for the past few months, to lunch with a now friend, Carly and then today.

This was the last piece of the puzzle I needed to make this transition to Washington, DC feel fully complete. Now I get to sit back and watch God work through me during this time of change. I am so thankful for the doors He is opening for me, and for the door of His church that he opened for me too.

One of the biggest pleasures today as well was getting to meet the sweet Pastor Donna. A woman of God I have felt like I have known for a long time. Through our email and social media correspondence, I had a feeling I would hit it off well with her. Our wonderful fellowship time after service today at a now "must go too more often" sandwich shop, I saw that I was correct.

While this woman got me the first time we said hello in the sanctuary because she embraced me in a hug, it was her poignant and very genuine presence that moved me. Her love for all who walked into that door this morning just resonated from her. There were no strangers to her, even if this was their first time at the church like mine; no, they all were immediately family.

The wonderful relationships I see myself building at MVP already just warm my heart. It will be the roots I'll need while I am here to continue to allow God to use me and grow me.

The only words I have left are...TO GOD BE THE GLORY.
 
amen.

to my life changer.

We all have one person who began something really important in our life. They were the first to inspire us or guide us. They began something in our life, no matter how small, that had a significant impact.

Sometimes that impact happens at one time, and sometimes it's a long-lasting and continuing impact.

Being here in DC has made a few things come full circle for myself. The biggest part of studying journalism here in our nation's Capitol is that it was here that I first caught that "bug" to be a journalist. While I never pictured myself living here 5 years ago when I first came to Washington, DC as a sophomore in high school...I see now where that was one of the first steps I would take towards studying journalism.

As I continue to reflect in these first few days, I look back at the very beginning. And I look back at the person who first opened the door to my calling. The first person who taught me what it meant to be a journalist.

The appreciation I have for this woman in my life cannot be put into words, nor can the love I have for her be measured. There is no way I would be pursuing the career that I am, with the passion that I have had it not been for her.

The first time I entered Journalism 101, I was met with an energetic, vivacious woman. She had this passion for this new subject of mine, journalism. It was a passion that I soon shared. There was something infectious about her passion.

She opened my eyes to a world where there is a commitment to telling the truth. A commitment to keeping the public informed. A commitment to telling peoples' stories and living out the first amendment rights.

As I sit in my journalism classes as one of the more educated students on the background of journalism, I keep giving credit to my high school journalism experience. I keep giving credit to the amazing woman that was my journalism advisor.

Living out my dream is making me appreciate my strong foundation in the fundamental principles of journalism. A foundation I think I have taken for granted until I came to a place where I had to put into practice all I've learned.

The greatest part of experiencing all of this, is that I still get to share it with the woman who helped begin it all. She is still one of the first people I text or call to tell when exciting things are happening.

A teacher is someone who not only teaches her students academic lessons, but life lessons as well. Where their commitment to their students isn't just about fulfilling their job description, but fulfilling a higher calling. A calling to make a difference.

This is why I give so much credit to my high school journalism advisor. Not only did she teach me the basic principles of journalism, she taught me what it meant to practice these principles. She not only taught me how to structure a journalism piece, she taught me how to tell a story.

She is one who has never given up on me. Her commitment to me as a student was also a commitment to me as a person. This is why three years after I've graduated high school, I still turn to her for advice. It is why I still pick up my phone to tell her good news before most other people.

Her impact in my life cannot be put into words. It can only be seen when I reflect back on the journey that led me here. When I reflect on the journey I have taken in pursuing my dreams. Each step along the way, she is there. She has added to the pieces of the puzzle of my life in both small and big ways.

I know that there is absolutely no way I would be here without her. I know there is absolutely no way I would be studying to be a journalist had I never met her. I know that there is absolutely no way I would be the woman I am today without her.

If only our world had more teachers who made such a commitment to their students. Who are truly pursuing a higher calling of helping guide their students instead of just earning  a paycheck. It is these individuals that make the difference in the lives of the students they teach.

It is people like Jenny Proctor who make the world a better place.

As I revel in this whole experience. As I sit and study in my journalism classes and begin to work at my internship next week, I reflect. I reflect on who I am today and where I began. I reflect on the woman who began it all.

Who is still such a support system in my life. Who I text almost every day here in DC because she has to be one of the first people I tell things too. Who I could not do life without or be who I am today without.

Jenny Proctor you're a life changer, just so you know.

diversity yet so much commonality

The greatest thing about this city is the diversity.

There is a buzz of energy in the air.

It is thick with different languages, clothes and cultures; but all are sharing a commonality of laughter, love and life.

I find myself in the middle of this great place with great people surrounding me. And I am in love.

My mind is too full to not write tonight. I was sitting in my writing class earlier and yet I could not write then. I have found I do not have time to write during the day, to journal and keep up with memories. No, all that must be done at night because I am too busy during the day experiencing. When the city has settled in a busy hum because it is never completely quiet here. When my body is tired but my mind is still racing,  that is when I write.

What I am seeing, tasting, and feeling  is unlike anything I have in my life.

And it is so good.

For the first time in my life I am finding myself identifying who I am. I have grown up and even gone to school in a culture where I was among the majority. I was around people who were raised very similar to how I was raised and had experienced life in a very similar way to how I had.

Here that is not possible.

We all come from very different places and all have very different experiences. Not only those who are international students, but those of us who come from different regions of the United States.

However we find that same commonality of life, laughter, and love that I am witnessing all over this great city.

We may share different languages, values, experiences and cultures; but I have never bonded so quickly with a group of people. When I sit down with them in the pizza shop or on the quad between classes, I find myself relating to them better than most people I have interactive with during my educational years; both in high school and college so far.

Conversation is easy and laughter flows like a light breeze in the air. We share our life stories and where we come from. Identifying myself and the South where I grew up is a new experience for me. I have never had to explain where I come from before. I've always just regurgitated facts of the area around me, but never the culture. Because I was never so far removed from my culture.

But I do not feel that this place I am or the people I am meeting are all that different from where I come from. All are kind. All are caring. All are simply living life and figuring there role in this bigger picture.

And this is all I have taken in in only a week.

I still have fifteen to go.

Fifteen weeks to grow and change.

To experience and live.

To find out what I am beginning to see as the true me.

Who I want to be and what role I want to play in  this bigger picture.

I am defining who I am and where I stand in a more comfortable place than I have ever been before.