let's come together in prayer.

PRAYER.
ONE BODY.
UNITED.

I want to scream this from the rooftops right now. I have spent most of my day switching between doing my work and reading the most recent news update on the tragedy, the MASSACRE that has occurred at Emmanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston. My heart is literally breaking for my brothers and sisters whose lives were lost, the families of the victims, the congregation, Charleston, South Carolina, our state, our nation, our world.

I grieve because this happened. I grieve because this type of hatred because of difference is still occurring in 2015. I grieve because this was a young man who is literally my age. It's a reminder that we live in an imperfect world where evil still exists. Evil is something that will linger here until God's kingdom comes and His will is done here on earth. I grieve because the political realm is using this already as a spring board for pushing their own agendas in regards to legislative measures about guns, etc. that could have "prevented" this and the lives that were lost.

The truth is that it is not the gun that kills an individual, it is the hand that pulls the trigger. An evil, sick man woke up yesterday and decided that for whatever reason he was going to go kill simply because he could. He decided to sit in a house of worship and murder innocent people. No matter what strict policy may or may not be in place or what opinions reporters, politicians, or individuals may have...evil would have found a way. He would have found a way to commit this act if not now, then later. If not this way then in another way. He was EVIL.

However, this is not what I am here to write about. This is not the issue that hurts my heart and shakes my soul. Political agendas are NOT the point right now.

What is important is the victims whose lives were tragically loss, their families left behind, the congregation at Emmanuel AME and the pain ripping through so many right now. This is not the time to become divided on opinions or to use this incident as an example for some legislation.

THIS is the time to unite in prayer.

My heart and soul that breaks is uplifted a bit when I see splashed across my social media so many coming together to pray. How they are uniting as one to simply pray and be together. At this moment that is our greatest weapon and what we need to focus our energy on. We need to focus on coming together as one Body of Christ as is described in Romans 12.

Let us put aside opinions, differences, divisions, anything that separates us as human beings and come together simply because we are all children of The Almighty. Let us simply pray. Truly that is all we can control at the time and is our greatest force. The rest will come with time, but let us not add salt to a deep wound by our prideful intentions, no matter how good they may seem.

May the prayer trend continue throughout our state, nation, and the world. May we give everyone the time to grieve. May we all be One Body united in prayer that supports our brothers and sisters at Emmanuel AME.

Lord in Your Mercy. 

a lesson in communication, thank you to WIS "media family".

As I continue to discern further my ministry call, I know effective communication within the church is very much a defining factor of it. While I may be switching from a dream in the newsroom to the Church, my love of telling a story is not. The concept of journalism is to tell an objective story; well-rounded, thoroughly researched, many sources, both sides of the story, etc. It is about telling the stories of the people in a community and exposing  the truth. There is a responsibility to be a voice for the people. This journalistic philosophy is one I am still passionate about. Just because my direction has changed, many thing within my heart have not. How these passion will play out in the upcoming future just now looks a little different.

To be honest, I have been grieving my journalism dream. This is not something I ever planned to let go of, nor do I do so fully without a lot of bittersweet-ness. For seven plus years this was the goal I was working towards rigorously. All of my steps were taken in this one particular direction and no one could waver me from it. I had an amazing support team surrounding me, especially mentors in the WIS community. While I no longer looks towards a future in the newsroom, I have come to realize that God directly put me on this path because of the individuals I would meet who would teach me about faith and becoming a "voice for the voiceless". I reap many lessons from these years of study that will be beneficial to my future ministry and I know it was all a part of a greater plan.

As I move forward in my ministry discernment and close one chapter, I cannot do so without expressing my thanks to a group of people who did change my life. While I thought it was for one reason, it was for another that God used their influences, relationships, and experiences together to help define my future career.

 

 

Through Dawndy Mercer Plank, God taught me what compassion for a cause looks like. How you can use your faith and life experiences to spread a message of hope or encouragement to others. He also taught me what it means to reach out to someone who looks up to you, and try to help them along their way.
Dawndy: I will never be able to thank you enough for everything you have done for me. From the first time we met in the studio and you extended a warm hug of welcome instead of a simple, polite handshake, you have touched me. I spent hours with you that first day just sitting in the studio watching as you anchored. Afterwards, you extended your hand in helping mentor and guide me over these past three years. All the times you let me shadow you on the field or in the newsroom are wonderful memories I will cherish always. You did more than affect my journalistic life, you also affected my spiritual life. You taught me through your actions about what a woman of God looks like in the newsroom. Besides journalism guidance, you also offered life guidance. You listened and offered advice when I came to you with problems about college or life. There was also the time you had the grief counselor come do a segment on dealing with grief, when I was dealing with it myself. As I watched that segment that day I just balled. That meant EVERYTHING to me as you actively loved me in my time of need. Your impact on my life has not and will not end. You have a powerful passion for seeking help for viewers to keep them informed, and you passed that lesson on to me. In my future ministry I will carry on that lesson of seeking justice and uplifting the voice of the people in community I am a part of. You changed my life and I'm forever grateful to you. Thank you for "adopting" me. I will never be able to repay you for all you've done.

Through the example of Mary King, God taught me what pure joy for life looks like. No matter what life circumstances may throw your way or what time in the morning you have to get up, a smile can still be on your face. This type of zest only comes when someone is full of the Holy Spirit. When someone is that personable, people feel they can relate to you and therefore trust you with information. When your job is to help keep others informed, that type of trust is vital. Mary: you have always been so kind to me. Our lunch dates, shadowing you at 3:45 AM on Sunrise, and your cheerful disposition has always warmed my heart. You are one of the most genuine people I know. That resonates with me as I know I need to treat others that way. You extend that compassion to all you encounter and I know that it will be important I do that to those I serve in ministry, later. Thank you for that lesson and taking me under your wing.

Tim Miller my Twitter buddy. You always have a smile on your face and jokes coming off your lips. That wit has always made me laugh in our Twitter correspondence. When we were finally able to meet in person, the laughs continued. Thank you for reminding me about the power of social media and how it connects people. I also plan to use that to better connect congregations or people of the Church in my future ministry; a lesson I owe to you and our friendship. Through all the wit, you also take your responsibility as a weatherman very seriously. This balance is a lesson I take away as well about how to fulfill my responsibility of those I serve in ministry, but also doing so in ways that help make people laugh.

There are so many others at the station that have taught me lessons about telling the story that I cannot express my thanks enough for. Judi, PJ, Len, Beth, and basically everyone there. In the past three years, WIS has truly felt like an extended "adopted" media family. You all always welcomed me to shadow and explore the studio, soaking up all I learned. You all kept me encouraged through social media too, especially when I was in Washington, D.C.

I may not be going into the newsroom, but I have gained so many lessons from my time with those at WIS that I will carry into my future. While I knew that God brought WIS and the people there into my life to shape, influence, and change me it was not in the ways I initially thought. In fact it was in even more real and powerful ways.

These people taught me about compassion. These people taught me about what it looks like to fight for the truth and being a "voice for the voiceless". These people taught me about caring for the community you are in and holding true to that responsibility. These people taught me a lot about myself. For that I will always be grateful.

for everything there is a season....

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 The Voice (VOICE)

3 Teacher: For everything that happens in life—there is a season, a right time for everything under heaven:

²     A time to be born, a time to die;
        a time to plant, a time to collect the harvest;
³     A time to kill, a time to heal;
        a time to tear down, a time to build up;
⁴     A time to cry, a time to laugh;
        a time to mourn, a time to dance;
⁵     A time to scatter stones, a time to pile them up;
        a time for a warm embrace, a time for keeping your distance;
⁶     A time to search, a time to give up as lost;
        a time to keep, a time to throw out;
⁷     A time to tear apart, a time to bind together;
        a time to be quiet, a time to speak up;
⁸     A time to love, a time to hate;
        a time to go to war, a time to make peace.

 

______________________________________

 

As I write this post, I reflect on this above Scripture because it is time to begin a new season of my life. If I had known a year ago where I would be today, I would not have believed it. This was not in my life plan and there is still so much to do and learn in the years ahead. However, the first steps have taken place and I think it's time I share my story. This is a story that opens up a new journey I'm about to begin, or continue because I know that this is a journey I've been on since October. Now, it's just time to fill in others on this journey.

 

This is me telling the beginning of my ministry journey......hang with me as I tell my tale.

 

______________________________________________________________________

 

I remember crying at my confirmation. On a bright Sunday morning, I knelt at the altar of my home church. Around my neck was the stole I had made for this day, full of pictures of symbolic representations of my faith journey thus far. I clearly recall how I felt the touch of all those around me, as the pastor blessed me: my parents, my youth director, Angela, and my pastors. As I felt their hands on me, I felt another pair of hands, too. These hands were God placing God's hands on me as I knelt and made a promise to begin my own faith walk. This was very important to me, because I was ready to begin to define what my faith meant, one that was separate from my family's; I took the gift of obtaining my own church membership as a great responsibility. As I rose after the blessing, I felt tears rolling down my face. These tears were gentle, soft tears of gratitude because my heart felt it was about to burst with joy. As one of my friend's dad, who to this day is very special to me, handed me a tissue to wipe my tears, I smiled and sat down in the pew. At the time, I thought I was just being emotional as I always was. As I reflect back now, I think that this was the first time that God began calling me to ministry. I was just not ready to recognize nor accept it yet.

 

I left for Washington, D.C. in the August of 2014 ready to begin steps in furthering my dream of becoming a broadcast journalist. I was ready to set the world on fire with my broadcast skills and a heart  that was ready to be a "voice for the voiceless". When I left in December of 2014 to return to South Carolina, I also left with a call to ministry.

As I know all who are reading this are surprised, trust me....so was I. In fact, I still am.

 

It has now been almost six months since I first recognized this call on Massachusetts Ave. in Washington, D.C., but this week marks the beginning of accepting this call. As was announced in my college home church, Broad Street United Methodist Church, I am beginning to explore candidacy with the South Carolina Conference of the UMC to follow a call into ordained deacon ministry with a letter sent to my district superintendent. My vision of being a "voice for the voiceless" still rings in my heart; however, as I told my district superintendent in my letter to inquire about entering exploring the candidacy process, my passion will cause me to be a little more active in helping the voiceless.

A long story short, I fully recognized my call while I was in Washington, D.C. because God placed me in a news room with a wonderful internship where I had always thought I wanted to be, and then in a church community where I had always been. Over the course of the months I was in the city, my life began to take a twist away from the news room and more towards the church. At Mount Vernon Place United Methodist Church, I saw a very powerful outreach ministry towards those on the margins; these people on the margins I also befriended. Within this congregation and participating in its ministries, I felt such a fulfillment. Perhaps it was because my mind was already in tuned with my internship to think about my future, that I finally recognized this call God had placed on my heart. Who truly knows. I just know that it was through the power of this church and its pastor that I finished a thought of entering ordained ministry.

I feel called to be a "voice for the voiceless". I see a very powerful connection within the ministries of a church, particularly outreach ministries, to help those hurting. This also includes those within a congregation. As I spent my time in a city that was completely new, completely out of my comfort zone, and completely spectacular, I found God in ways I had never imagined. People laugh when I say Washington, D.C. taught me how to love. However, it did because it exposed to me first hand the really harsh realities of pain and suffering in this world, but also the ways in which we as the Church are called to aid in this by meeting the basic needs of people (food, shelter, and community), and building spiritually from that by sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ. How God loves and accepts EVERYONE; no matter what.

I'm thankful for this call. I'm also extremely grateful for the way God has used mentors and loved ones and my family to guide me and sustain me in this call; now and as I move forward. One of the biggest advocates and mentors through this now and as I move forward is someone's whose hands were on me that day I was confirmed. She was the first person I reached out to when I felt that whisper in my heart growing louder. Angela Marshall has been a true rock for me in ways I cannot even express. She has been there for me with long text messages, hours on the phone, visits in person, prayers, tough love, and so, so much more. I know she is someone who will be with me all along this way, and I am so thankful for that. God is renewing and using this relationship that I cannot be grateful enough for. Angela, thank you for being you.

There have been many other amazing advocates for me as I begin and continue on this journey, ones I continue to share about as is the right time. My story is not complete, nor will it be until the day I enter into the Glory. For now it is just continuing with this recognition and moving forward as I further discern my call. At the moment, I know I am called to ordained ministry and in the form of deacon. The rest of the details I do not know at the time, nor do I have to I know. God will unveil them to me at the right time in the right places.

I am grateful for where this may take. I'm grateful to the amazing church families and influences that have molded and shaped me into the Christian woman I am. They all will continue to be rocks for me as I move forward. I will continue to use this blog to share my journey. This is only the beginning of it. It is just time I think, to tell everyone.

Lord use me....wherever You may send me.....
 

one body of Christ.

Matthew 21:1-11English Standard Version (ESV)

The Triumphal Entry

21 Now when they drew near to Jerusalem and came to Bethphage, to the Mount of Olives, then Jesus sent two disciples, ² saying to them, “Go into the village in front of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her. Untie them and bring them to me. ³ If anyone says anything to you, you shall say, ‘The Lord needs them,’ and he will send them at once.” ⁴ This took place to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet, saying,

⁵ “Say to the daughter of Zion,
‘Behold, your king is coming to you,
    humble, and mounted on a donkey,
    on a colt,^[a] the foal of a beast of burden.’”

⁶ The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them. ⁷ They brought the donkey and the colt and put on them their cloaks, and he sat on them. ⁸ Most of the crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. ⁹ And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” ¹⁰ And when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up, saying, “Who is this?” ¹¹ And the crowds said, “This is the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee.”

 

We sat in the circle of prayers before we began the "Stations of the Cross" program. While we did not plan on it, we had subconsciously ordered ourselves so that every other person was either from the Catholic Student Association group or our Methodist Student group from Broad Street. Amber led those who were Catholic in the group to recite the "Hail Mary", and then I entered into an opening prayer. After we had broken and started the program, I couldn't help but keep reflecting back to our prayer.

 

One body in Christ.

 

 

We begin the celebratory road to Easter in the city of Jerusalem as the Savior enters into the city on a donkey with palm branches waving to welcome. It's the beginning of a series of even that would literally change the world. It is a story that is pivotal in the faith story of those of us who identify as Christian.

 

The "Stations of the Cross" depict the darker side of that Passion story. It is full of death, pain, despair, and what seems a hopeless situation. It leaves you feeling bleak on the Monday of Holy Week thinking, "well where do we go from here?". (As if Mondays weren't bad enough). However, I think it was poignant to have the death aspect of the Resurrection story begin our week. A week that is supposed to be reflective of what exactly that cross and the sacrifice that was laid upon it mean to us as Christians. 

 

I found myself thinking about what comes after the tomb has closed though. How that is NOT the end of the story. Christ does rise! His story and therefore our story carries on for generations to come. The blessing is that I was also reminded that while we may all belong to different branches of the Christian tree, we are all still ONE body in Christ. We all have the same gift of grace and salvation that was given to us, and we all celebrate that. 

 

We as Catholic and Methodist (and Presbyterian) students came together to demonstrate to our college campus that while certain traditions or prayers may divide our denominations, Christ is that unifying central point.  We all have the same Messiah.

 

I think we can become guilty in getting caught up in what divides us as Christians or even other faiths. We forget about the one true God that unities us all. I think we also forget the Savior who died for ALL, who loves ALL, who we are all working for the good of. No one gets left out of that circle. Just like no one was left out of our prayer circle.

 

As we journey to the cross this week. Let us remember who we travel with. Just as there were many in the crowds that Palm Sunday, there are many of us in this crowd of faith. However, we are all waving our palm branches and shouting "Hosanna in Highest" for the same King of the Jews.

 

in high school, you knew more about me than my best friends.

When I was in my old high school tonight, I did something I had never done before: I raised my hand to sign an "L" during the singing of the alma mater. Yes, I felt old enough to do it since I'm now about three years out of high school. It was the annual "Mr. LE" and my sister was escorting her best guy friend.

I was reflective not only being in my old high school for the first time in years, but I also was reflective because this program was one I had once been backstage helping run. Since the "Mr. LE" is run by the journalism department, I could not help but think about all the fun memories I had had with the journalism department at Lugoff-Elgin Highs School. In fact, the journalism department was what made the years of high school bearable for myself. It also had me reflecting on the individual who ran our journalism department so successfully.

A teacher who yes as the Buzzfeed list said, "knew more about me than my best friends do". My high school journalism teacher, Jenny Proctor, was one whom did know more about me than most of my best friends in high school. Here is an updated and repost from a previous blogpost of mine from when I described her my life changer. Today, she still is.

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.

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 right.

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.

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 who I am 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.

You're a life changer. You are my life changer. Thank you for being you. Thank you for helping me too, to grow in my faith. I learned through you what it meant to teach young people about being a woman of Christ. You walk in His name every day, and it is reflective in the way you carry yourself daily. I grew in my faith as I would sit in youth groups at Bethel and listen to you pray then teach our weekly lesson, or other times I would hear you teach about God's Word. I knew I could come to you with faith questions, and you would be willing to listen and answer.

Thank you Jenny for being you. You've impacted my life in more ways than I can describe. I am thankful to have you as a mentor. I am thankful that even six years after we first met, I still have you in my life. I pray that never changes.

my coaches.

Tonight at church we had a speaker come from Presbyterian College's FCA. In his talk, he discusses the importance of coaches, not in regards to wins or looses with whatever games of the sports they happen to be coaching. No, he was talking about the wins or loses in the students' lives; he was discussing the importance of mentors that coach to the kids about a life lived in Christ.

Now this spoke to me and immediately my own coaches came to my mind. No, I am not talking about sport coaches. If any of you know me well, you know that I am not an athletic individual. The only type of sports I ever did was one round of soccer around my first grade year. When we started running at practice, I asked the coach if we ran this much every time. The answer was yes and my answer to that was to sit in the middle of the field until my daddy came and got me. I never did return to another practice.

What came to my mind were the mentors I have or have had in my life. In particular I thought of the women mentors I have had in my life. My course load this semester at PC all revolve around two topic: women and religion. This has caused me to have at the forefront of my mind the many wonderful female spiritual mentors I have had or do have that have helped me grow in my faith.

Tonight I was inspired to highlight each of these ladies. While Women's History Month does not begin until technically Sunday, I am going to begin this week with one very special spiritual mentor in my life. This individual has helped me through some of my most challenging times of my college years. To be honest, I cannot think I would have made it through without her help, guidance, patience, wisdom, and unconditional love.

Week one spiritual mentor highlight.

*****************************************

A life coach by example: Kitty Holtzclaw.

My first Sunday at Broad Street United Methodist Church, I was quite surprised to see a female minister walk down the aisle during the opening hymn. While I had had female pastors in the past, I had never encountered one who was so young as the head pastor. It instantly gained my attention.

Quickly I grew to like this head pastor, Dr. Rev. Kitty Cooper Holtzclaw, as is her official title. When she stepped up to that pulpit, you knew you were hearing someone preach that was moved by the Holy Spirit. However, it was more than just her weekly sermons that gained my admiration for Kitty. Truthfully, it was the way she lived her life that has and does teach me so much.

Kitty knows how to make people feel loved. She genuinely cares for every congregation member (or visitor) that walks through the doors of the church. It is through her example that I learned what it means to welcome all in the name of Christ. Every Wednesday evening, she takes time to speak to practically everyone in Hodges Hall. Even if she is the very last one in the line to get dinner, she does not stand in line until she has spoken to all.

Through her example, Kitty has taught me what it means to be sensitive to the Holy Spirit. While I view her as one of the wisest women I have ever met, she also is wise in Scripture. When she preaches or teaches a lesson, you know that there is divine inspiration behind what she is proclaiming to her congregation. I have learned from her that when I go to step up and lead in a worship type of setting (whatever this may look like), I need to be cognizant to listening for the Holy Spirit's guidance. There is no doubt that is what she does.

Kitty has also taught me that the best ministers have a sense of humor. Anyone that knows me too, knows that if I don't pick on you, then I don't truly care. If I am teasing you mercilessly, it means I love you. This is a similar sense of humor found in Kitty. She knows how to crack and joke and make the whole room laugh. Not only this, but she walks around with joy. You cannot be around her and not instantly feel better, mood wise and about yourself. Over the past years, we have played off each other in this witty manner. I appreciate a minister who can be both serious and funny. Even Jesus laughed a time and again.

More than anything, I have learned from Kitty what a woman of God looks like; both in the ways of a person and as a member of the clergy. Honestly, Kitty is one of the wisest women I have ever met. Not only in the academic sense, but in the theological sense as well. Listening to her talk, even in normal conversation, will typically leave me in awe. Her insight is amazing and I am grateful I have the chance to regularly engage in conversation with her.

Kitty has been someone I can always count on. Even when I am trying the patience or asking yet another theological question, she is always there for me. I know that if push comes to shove, I can reach out to her for help; whether this is shoulder to cry on, an ear to share good news with, or simply someone to laugh with. Kitty loves unconditionally and that is something that has meant the world to me during my three years in college. She listens intently, thinks about her answers, and then offers the advice she feels is best.

To a young Christian woman, this example to live by is priceless.

So thank you to my collegiate coach, Pastor Kitty Holtzclaw. Your influence on myself means the world to me, as does your relationship. Thank you for just being yourself and what that allows me to learn from you. You are a remarkable woman.

 

 

 

 

Next week: spiritual coach by high school standards.

to everything there is a season.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

3 For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

² a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
³ a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
⁴ a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
⁵ a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
⁶ a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
⁷ a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
⁸ a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.

If there is one thing I've learned during this Washington, D.C. experience is that change is inevitable. That embracing that change can be beautiful. That sometimes the change can be almost a sigh of relief.

I wish I could say that this lesson was ingrained in me. However, I am still in a learning process to embrace change and to know that in the end, everything will be okay. I believe that maybe this will be a lesson I have to learn over and over again.

Yet I am learning it a little better now.

When I moved to D.C I had no choice but to learn to accept change. Everything was temporarily changing for me. Where I was living. Where I was going to school. Where I was going to church. Who I saw on a regular basis. It was an open and unfamiliar future for the next few months.

This caused me to feel both anxiety but also a hint of excitement as I made the journey up the East Coast and left the South that I loved. I did not know how that would settle within me once I said goodbye to my parents after they moved me into my apartment.

At first I felt nothing but excitement. All the newness was exhilarating and I enjoyed being in a bigger, busier city. I came to love the 20016 zipcode. I was on what I call my "Washington high". After the first month, this wore off and I settled in.

Yet the love for the city did not fade. I was comfortable. What had been outside of my comfort zone I came to enjoy. I learned a lesson that even though everything in my day to day had changed, I could be content.

The core of my support system did not change at all. My family, friends and church families back home still were my rock. Their love was felt across the hundreds of miles that now separated us. I knew that even from a distance the foundation of love that had help build for me would sustain me.

I learned that as I was changing to a new season paralleling the season change from summer to fall outside-there was a simple beauty to each new day. There was consistency within myself of the love and support from constants in my life, but exciting change as something new was happening each day.

It was a simplicity that had been present before, but that I had failed to see or appreciate.

I've been very reflective lately. It that reflection and a new simple perspective, I saw that through each new season of my life, there was goodness. Every time I had been afraid of an oncoming change, that change never had been bad. It had been good. Just as what had been there before had been good. There also was a certain consistency through each season that sustained me.

I know that soon this season will change too. I'll move back to a new chapter. After that will come a new chapter, a new season. Again and again it will occur. I cannot control that. Something old me would want to do. However, this new me that is emerging knows that not having control can be good.

There is beauty in simplicity. Maybe we all need a little bit more of that in our lives. I know I do. I know I need to be more simple in seeing that beauty in my day to day life. Knowing that this journey is more important than the ending destination because that ending destination is not just one. At each new season of my life, there will be a new destination point.

I do not have just one ultimate one. One that is better than all the simple moments of a journey leading to it. That ultimate destination is enjoying this journey called life. That's where I'll find the real beauty.

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