A decade has passed since nearly 700 of my classmates and I stood proudly, draped in fire-engine red gowns and proudly clasping our diplomas, signifying the completion of a large chapter in our lives. What would we do next? Questions loomed in front of us, shooting at us from every direction. Some of us stood sure and confident, feeling like we had all the answers. Others wished they could hide away in Neverland, avoiding the inevitable changes, not wanting to let go of childhood and be forced to learn the art of responsibility.
I guess I walked with the crowd of the sure and confident. I would attend North Park University for four years, graduate with a degree in elementary education. Then I would get married, have four kids and go off to some foreign land such as Kenya or India to teach. Even though I had those specific ideas though, I wasn't thoroughly attached. I just liked the thought of the future and the adventures that were sure to be found. I would not settle for the mundane.
Wow, 10 years surely have passed in a hurry. Exactly a year after graduating from high school, I found myself in a completely different land. I accompanied 5 other people from my college on a mission trip to Timisoara, Romania. A land of contrasts stood in front of me; beautiful, fairy-tale like architecture and kids 5 and 6 years old, running around with dirty faces, bare feet and no supervision. Spending weeks surrounded by these children who were in many ways like little adults, looking after themselves, trying to earn or steal enough to make it through another day. My mother's heart felt broken, shattered in pieces. I wanted to reach out my arms and hold each one. I wanted to lift the invisible burdens off of their shoulders and let them run free. 9 years ago today, I was spending an unforgettable week with 15 of those street kids, out in the mountains in the middle of nowhere. The moment they left the van, they became like little children again. Running through the grass, smiling, breathing in the fresh air, kicking around a soccer ball, drinking fresh spring water. I looked forward to each morning, eating breakfast with the five children that were assigned to my family group. Pufta buna, we would tell one another, the equivalent of bon appetite. I knew that my life could never be the same. God had done a great work in my heart and solidified my resolve that I could never chase after the "normal" life. Less than a year later I found myself in Texas, doing my DTS, getting prepared for full time ministry. I've never looked back. God's university has been quite different from the usual 4 year school, but what experiences He's allowed me to have!!
Then 4 years ago, I celebrated alongside my sister Amy (also one of my best friends), as she pledged her life to a wonderful, brilliant man named Jadon! Can in already have been four years?!? The memories shine vividly in my mind. Sweat rained down our faces as we stood outside for quite a long time, taking pictures, but we brought out little fans that provided some relief. And we were a good humored bunch and cracked jokes, making one another laugh and forget about our discomfort. I remember singing "Going to the Chapel" over Amy with all the other bridesmaids, and in beautiful harmony might I add. All the while I kept asking myself if this was real. But moments later we were walking down the aisle towards the stage and I knew we weren't playing house. Amy was a beautifully joyful bride, savoring every minute of this day as she joined hands with her best friend. Come what may, til death does them part, their arms are linked, their hearts are joined. What a day, June 7th, what a day!!
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