It's an Air

"Don't ever do that to me again!" That's what I feel like telling my boss when I go back to work tomorrow. The restaurant shut down for two weeks while the owners went on vacation. They left us employees to fend for ourselves, without work or pay. So we've all gone and done our own thing the past couple weeks.

My "own thing" has been school—lots of it. I got a little backlogged when my parents and Maryah went to the D.R. on their mission trip and left me in charge. Though it kept me hopping, that week was fun. I loved the novelty (operative word) of meal-planning and grocery shopping and cooking food.

Laundry was a bit droll.

It was fun to walk to the bakery with the girls and get bread, or take them to the library for the afternoon. We did school, and played chess, and I realized how smart they are both getting. The whole week, I got to interact with them more than I have in a long time. Even though we share a room, and basically everything, it's easy to lose sight of who they really are. I get frustrated. I've taken to hiding in the bathroom, so the frustration doesn't show. But they are too amazing to be frustrated with; as I played the part of Mom, I remembered that. Hopefully I'll keep remembering it, at least for the next few weeks.    

With my time off from work, I'd hoped to not just regain my ground in school, but actually get ahead. I failed at getting ahead, though I've been doing loads of school every day. I'm curious how the next few weeks will fare, throwing work back into the mix. At least I'm enjoying my classes, when I take a step back and stop stressing. Also, from here on out it's going to be easier since, glory be, I have my own computer. It's not held together by duct tape, doesn't sound like a jet engine, isn't prone to viruses, doesn't take ages to load a page on the internet, or to even open the "file" tab (which doesn't require internet), doesn't have a broken trackpad, isn't incompatible with absolutely every software, program, update, or device... Basically, it hasn't seen constant use since 2007. Basically, it's brand-new-out-of-the-box. Basically, it's a MacBook Air. *angels sing*

I was going to get an HP. Really, I was. They are so cheap, and I'm a waitress. However, after undergoing more counseling than I've gotten for spiritual issues, I was made to see the error of my ways, and I got an Apple. Thanks to my grandfather, I might add. So I guess it wasn't the counseling, but a very practical gift. That man...I'd be sunk without him.

I'd be sunk without most of my family. I'm humbled by the fact that I can't get anywhere in life without help. I work hard, yes, but it is under the rule of, "you do the best you can, and we'll pull you up the rest of the way." Working "as hard" as I am to get a degree, have a bit of money in the bank...none of it would be possible if I didn't have help from family and friends. From a sociological perspective (got that perspective sophomore year from a professor whose name I can't remember), it makes perfect sense. It's the way a society is supposed to work, and isn't surprising. But I am surprised, and I'm grateful.

I'm still rather stuck, but life could be harder. Something like a new computer seems trivial in the grand scheme of things, perhaps even superfluous, but the (sorry?) fact of the matter is, it's little things like that that legitimately improve the quality of my life. My college is the computer, and the past semester I haven't had my own. It was frustrating. Lot's of stuff, and people, are frustrating. But I'll try to keep the frustration in perspective. For now, I'm looking forward to not having a sister kick me off a computer this week so she can email her friend. I might do school at the library, or the coffee shop, or in bed, or wherever I want to, because I can carry it with me.

This blog might even get updated a little more frequently again. Maybe. If school—it promises a better future if I don't die in the process—gives me the chance.

"And I'd Like to Thank All the Little People..."

That's a joke. What the title should really say is, "how I got to Italy only by the generosity of other people and the undergirding provision of a faithful God." That's the truth. The fact that I am able to hop on a plane tomorrow and fly across the ocean to live and study in San Lorenzo, Italy for three months has nothing to do with me and everything to do with God and other people. As much as I might like to think otherwise, I wouldn't be doing this without them, and I want to take a moment and reflect on the past 6 months, and how God's been faithful in getting me where I am now.

After all, I still remember sitting in Soulful Cup telling Matt, after he'd filled out my pastor reference forms, that "You know, I want to go to SBI, but I'm really not going to." Then I added, "I mean, if God wants me to go I guess he will provide, but as it stands I don't have it together financially. I could sell my car, but that'd be impractical; true, I could sell my double bass but I just don't want to!"

The way things worked out, I still have Harry, and I still have my bass. Seeing as I'm going to Italy, God must have provided!

So obviously I didn't leave it completely up to God to just drop money in my lap. As most of you know, I started job-hunting. Getting hired at the Rockwell Museum was not something I anticipated, since originally I'd heard there were openings at CMOG. However, when I interviewed with the third party hiring agency that potential employees must go through, they hooked me up with Rockwell instead. Though working weekends was semi-annoying, it ended up being a better fit since it allowed me to nanny for the Osburn's as well.

So within just a couple weeks of looking for employment, I was working 5-6 days a week with people who became like a family.

My working was a joke though, an even worse one than the title. I couldn't raise $10,000 in four months.

Which means God dumped the rest of the money in my lap. The first time I was almost a mile from home, in a field surrounded on three sides by forest. Besides enjoying an autumn hike, I was searching for cell service since our home phone had been disconnected and I needed to make a long distance call to figure out the schedule with Vail at work. While I was out there, I got another call; but from my mom. She let me know that Papa T had just added a significant amount of money to my college savings account. I squealed and twirled around under the blue sky I was so happy and overwhelmed...

A month later, my other Grandpa handed me a check one Tuesday afternoon. My stomach unknotted. Italy became more of a reality, less of a dream. 

Just like that, I was buying a plane ticket and then, after being granted a two-week extension while we waited for the gas royalties check to arrive, I was sending in tuition.

There was still the matter of surviving while in Italy though...and God covered that expense too, since my un-biological dad said not to worry about what I was worrying about: the cost of spring break.

God didn't stop once the big things were covered. He kept providing a lot of little things I needed for the trip. Sometimes, it was stuff I didn't really need but was lovely to get; an apt example being an iphone 4. True, I had a 3 that worked fine, but when your friend generously offers to "sell" (read:donate) a 4 too you, you don't turn him down! An up-to-date operating system, faster internet, imessaging to converse with mom and dad without a texting plan, and video camera capability will be exceedingly useful in Italy and...just more fun :P

Another good example...one of the last things I wanted was a 4gig USB thumb drive since I figured it be handy for school. Only worth $10, true, but after a certain point I'm seriously like, "I'm tired of spending money!!" Well, yesterday, what arrived in the mail? An envelope from Liberty University, with a letter inside explaining that since they loved me so much, they were gifting me a 4gig thumb drive! Booyah! Like magic. Or...like God.

So here's a massive blogger (as massive as my blog gets, anyway) shout-out thank you. Thanks to God, for His faithfulness, my parents for their encouragement and support, and everyone else who's encouraged or supported me...

And also, thank you to Mikaela. She's another example of God's faithfulness, and awesomeness in general, because she's helped me in a million different ways the past few months. Going to Italy with her and sharing all these experiences is too good to be true; but it is true. And for that, I praise God. 

Mending

Lying around a lot, healing, does have some good consequences. Yes, it makes me think too much,  often in the wrong direction, and yes, the result is a post like the one previous (remind me not to write blog posts at quarter of six in the morning after only a few hours of sleep).

Yet, it also helps a person be thankful. Specifically, I'm thankful for two legs that, until now, have worked quite well for the duration of my life. Not being able to run races, not being able to go on walks with the family, not being able to dance to loud music as I'm putting away dishes, is difficult. However, there are millions of people who can't do any of that for the entirety of their lives. I'm dealing with a bum leg for no more than a few weeks, and though I think I'm a ways from running, dancing will come here pretty soon, and the walking thing is remedied. Today I was helping a neighbor clean their house before they move, and my knee put up with 3 1/2 hours of use including window washing, top-shelf dusting, and cobweb getting (I was the only one there over 5'4", so I got the jobs to match). I was quite proud of it (my knee, not my height). Though, I'll be more proud of it when it starts letting me clutch again. I've tried thinking it through, but I really don't see how I can drive a standard car with just one leg. Especially when I'm still not an amazing standard driver as it is, with two legs.

So, in the midst of discontentment and the ensuing self-pity (detestable thing), I've been trying to not just be more thankful, but also more hopeful. Also, focusing less on yours truly, less on what people think of yours truly, and more about the sovereignty of God and the grace that is here now and that will continue to come in the future.

There is absolutely nothing to worry about. Nothing to fear. Everything is jammed up and jelly tight.

Wait, actually—there are two things to worry about. First, of the trio of cacti that sit on my desk, I do believe one of them is dying. It's getting the right amount of water, and it has enough room and is planted in good soil; however I don't think it gets enough sun. My only window faces west, so it catches just a few rays before the sun sets. So when this cactus finally kicks the bucket, I'll have to get a new one.

The other thing I'm concerned about is that my mood is entirely weather dependent. Though that's really nothing new, my realization of it has been strengthened thanks to the haphazard weather this week. In the course of a day, it'll be sunny for a few hours, then stormy, then sunny again, stormy again...and when it's sunny I'm happy, but when it's grey I'm mopey. So I go through rather drastic mood changes all in the span of one day—at least mentally, on the inside. If I let it show verbally/physically Mom would be after me.

It Happened at the Beach

"Life doesn't get much better than this." That is what I told Mom mid-week during our stay in Garden City/Myrtle Beach, and she agreed. I think at that precise moment I was lying out on the porch in my swimsuit under a cloudless sky (a sky that remained cloudless the entire week), bible in one hand, mango Izze soda in the other, going between reading and sipping; or chatting with one of the other 10 people out there; or watching Eric sketch and then paint the dock, inlet and palm trees in front of us in watercolors.

That was just one perfect moment out of a string of perfect, beautiful days that we didn't let get away (now you know the week's theme song). I've been longing to write about them for a while, but I didn't get the chance while we were there since after I finished 4-6 hours of school for the day, it seemed tragical to do anything but go outside. So the blog has suffered for it, but I've kept most of what I want to write about percolating on the back burner of my mind.

When we first arrived, after a fairly uneventful 13 hour drive, my first reaction was that of the girl from the woodsy hills who has never seen the ocean before. Which is ridiculous considering I've been to the ocean more times than I can count. But it had been a while, and I had forgotten how big it is. The past couple years the world has shrunk a little, in my mind (not sure why. Maybe with Andrew's traveling and doing school online), but the ocean blew it back up and put everything in perspective. My first view of it was when it was high tide, though, so that had something to do with it. When I stepped into the house and looked straight to the back through the wall of windows, the ocean was right there. Less than 20 feet from the house.

That night, we watched the full moon rise blood-orange out of the dark blue sea. We went to bed, and a few hours later awoke to, this time, watch the sun rise out of the sea. We had an Easter service out there on the sand, huddled together in sweatshirts, watching the sky change glowing, happy colors. Jonathan played guitar, we sang a few worship songs, and took turns reading from the last couple chapters of Luke.

I think that ended up being my favorite Easter Sunday yet, and I didn't even miss the ham and mashed potatoes. Celebrating the resurrection with some off-key singing on the early morning beach with my family is good enough for me, on this earth.

Not saying we didn't do some good eating while there. Mr. H cooked practically every meal, if I remember correctly, and they were all delicious...though sometimes Mikaela, Josiah and I would grab the salad fixings when it got too seafoody. One morning, Eric and Maria made crepes filled with Nutella or blackberry jam, another dad did pancakes, and another we had root beer floats (though that was the last morning and it was because we had to finish up the leftovers :).

We definitely ate a lot but there was more than enough exercise to balance it all out. We would go for multiple walks down the beach every day, sometimes having a field trip-like experience with Mr. H as the aquatic wildlife database, other times just goofing off and taking pictures, or other times using them as a conduit for the free flow of deep conversation. Walking and talking go well together.

One walk that we took happened between 11:30 and 12:30 at night. We had finished a movie, and everyone went to go to bed except Maryah, Josiah, Mik, Jonathan and I because we were too wired. So after chewing mint lifesavers with our mouths open in the dark kitchen to get the sparky light effect, we quietly put on our shoes and escaped the house. We walked down the middle of the road until cars became a problem, and then moved to the sidewalk, all the while discussing nefarious plans of how to land ourselves in jail in honor of Friday the 13th. We decided making the plans is much more fun than doing them, and we didn't really want to spend the night in the lockup. So in lieu of committing a crime, we Christmas caroled a house that still had some people hanging out on the porch. They laughed really hard, and were profusely appreciative of our festive efforts.

After walking a mile and a half out, we turned back because we were definitely getting tired. The streets were getting quieter too, and we stopped seeing cars, so it got pretty silent. And creepy, considering it had turned past midnight and become Friday the 13th. So I got really weirded out when something caught at my ankle and made me trip. We retraced our steps, and though I was expecting to find a stick or something, we found nothing. Officially on edge, I continued walking next to Mik. Two minutes later, a hand grabbed my ankle and I screamed. Of course, this time it wasn't an alien--it was Josiah, in typical boy fashion, taking advantage of my being worked up. So even though Andrew wasn't there, I still got to experience something he would have done. Some things will never change...but a little consistency is good, even if it means getting scared out of my mind by the male sex.

The other "active" thing we did while there was rent 2 paddle surfboards for 24 hours. Everyone took turns using them on the inlet, until after supper Josiah and I took them out on the ocean (the inlet was just across the road in front of the house, and the ocean was in the back). That was a whole new ballgame, but a very fun one, seeing as you had to remain balanced even with the swell of the ocean. We paddled way out towards Africa, and with the sky and the waves, the wind and the sun, breathing the rarefied air and living in the adrenaline of a new experience; it was almost too beautiful to be true. We also saw maroon-speckled jellies floating delicately, eerily beneath the clear green-gray surface of the water (locals told us the ocean this week was hardly ever this clear--it was almost Bahamaish). That definitely gave me new incentive not to fall in, but I did several times anyway--and it was really just part of the fun.

Besides, swallowing all the saltwater gave me the excuse to practice my spitting skills, which are all too feminine for my liking (and not at all practical, because when I go for a run I'll spit and it will end up on my shoe). Learning to spit was inspired by Rose in Titanic. We wanted to go see a movie, and I became quite excited when we settled on Titanic, which is one I've been dying to watch for several months, never having seen it. When it came time to go, however, everyone wimped out until all who was left of the theater-going party was Josiah and I. But we went anyway, and the movie was even better than I thought it would be. Absolutely moving, and beautiful, and thought-and-tear-provoking. I'll stick to the lighter side of things though for the sake of the nature of this post, and say I especially liked the scene where Jack teaches Rose to spit. Good times.

I also got in enough twirling and dancing to last me for at least a few days, so perhaps there will be no more embarrassing moments involving the neighbors. Mik, the brilliant ballerina, Maryah and I would have dance parties out on the beach, singing at the top of our lungs, splashing water and twirling in the sand. We would also write poetry in the sand, Mik with her Dickinson and me with my Wordsworth. Isaac wrote "I just wasted 10 seconds of your life" on the beach, and everyone who read it would stop and laugh, and wave toward our house if they put two and two together. Ah yes, and someone from our party wrote "Happy Easter" in the sand, which is the first thing I saw after waking up Easter morning and going outside. We (well, mostly Isaac) also built a number of sand heads in honor of Andrew, and Josiah, Misha and Sanna planted an adorable clam garden.

All in all, it was a wonderful vacation. Life really doesn't get much better than that, especially when you are in a certain financial situation. So here is a blogger shout out to the Hinterberger's: Thank you :).

We got in last night at 11:30, and waking up this morning was really hard. I opened my eyes about 7 since the internal clock is set earlyish, but I rolled over and fell back asleep until 9:30. Then I sat up in bed, fully awake, and wishing I was still asleep. First, because I wasn't waking up next to Mikaela. Second, because the view from my bedroom window was completely gray and brown. Granted, the grass is a little green, but the trees haven't budded! I thought for sure they would have, and it's hard coming back from late spring weather to early spring. Waking up at the beach, I looked out my window and could see a triad of palm trees silhouetted against the ocean and a bright sunrise. You could also hear the waves. Here at home, it is dreary, and the only noise was a lone squawking chicken. But I got out of bed anyway, unpacked, and went down to the cold basement to finish up my school for the week, since I had procrastinated Friday and let school hang. After that I got a shower and washed away the last of the streaky saltwater residue that was left on my legs. Sadness. Then dad showed us videos from the vacation, and some pictures, and everyone keeps saying, "Oh remember..." and "Wasn't it fun when..." and "I laughed so hard when..."

Ugh. Vacation and friend withdrawal. I don't know from experience, but I think it is almost as difficult as quitting a drug.

But life shall move on. The subterm is now half over, so 4 weeks until graduation. There is everything to look forward to.

For the sake of tradition though, since this past week had a theme song, today gets one too, and it's "On the Wing" by Owl City.

Ttea's TT

"Of course she's got a nice car...

...It goes fast...

...It goes far...

...It matches everything she wears...

...It even matches where she parks."*

Blogger shout-out thank you to my parents, who surprised me with an Audi TT as a combination early 19th birthday and college graduation gift. Okay, so part of the surprise was that I got to pay for a significant part of it :). But I've been saving up for a car my entire life, so I'm happy to invest it in one like this. In my opinion (and concerning money, my opinions verge on scrooge-y), we got a very good deal. It is 2001 and has over 100,000 miles, but the mechanic we bought it from just refurbished it so it runs perfectly. It is definitely not the junky fixer-upper I thought would be my first car.

Speaking of first cars, if you know me at all you knew I wanted a bug, right? Well, true, and someday I probably will get one. However, at a certain point a girl just wants a car. My wishlist was pretty simple: safe, efficient, and European. I knew dad could take that list and get me something I'd love. I was right :). So compared to a bug, this is safer, sportier, speedier, and cheaper. Plus, it will fit my double bass and one friend, is a unique shade of green, and has excellent re-sale value. Oh, and did I mention when you accelerate it roars with a sound that is to die for? It makes up-shifting through the first few gears positively addicting. I am in love.

I have named her T. T. Harry. Harry for Harrisburg, since that is where dad and I drove to this morning to get her.

*"My Girlfriend's Famous" by Riley Armstrong.

Cloud 9

It is that time of year that I like to call "seasonal twilight," because when you stand outside in any random location—thanks to leafless trees, puddles, and green/yellow grass—you can convince yourself that it is late winter going on spring rather than late fall going on winter (like the undefined period of time when you don't know if the sun is either just about to rise or just finished setting, if that metaphor needs explaining). I find it nice to pretend it's the former, since after Christmas and a few fun days of ice and snow, all there is to look forward to is cold and more snow and ice and slush and grey grey grey. Of course, that is when school comes to the rescue. I have to hand it to the world, Christmas break really is perfectly scheduled and it's nice to start up again in January when the weather gets wintery.

The realization that Christmas break is coming has just dawned on me today. I haven't let myself think about break until now. I'm not sure if that was a self-defense mechanism, or if I've just been busy, or if school has simply become a routine. Whichever way, a break is starting to sound awfully refreshing. Having done school straight since June 27, from my vantage point a 4 week Christmas break looks like an icy cold slice of perfectly ripe watermelon on a wonderfully hot 80 degree day. In a tank-top and shorts. Swinging on the disc swing. Surrounded by green.

Yeah yeah yeah quit daydreaming mattea. The literal hot chocolate with whipped cream and fuzzy hats and Christmas parties with friends that are coming your way are very fun too.

Speaking of which, we did have our first Christmas party on Saturday with the Epp's care group. Er, community group. Whatever it's called. But first, we all went caroling. We met at the Maxim's house and it didn't take long for a couple people to point out that I was the only one not wearing Christmas colors. Oops. I tried saying something like the wise men probably wore purple sweatshirts but I don't think anyone bought into it.

Across from the Maxim's is an elderly retirement complex, and we were scheduled to sing carols for them at about 3:00pm Saturday. We even advertised (hm, one of those tricky words where you could spell it the American way or the English way. I'm sticking with English since I spelled gray "grey" above lol). So we didn't know if we'd have a lot of people, or just a few.

When we got to the main meeting room, there were 3 cute looking old ladies sitting there waiting for us. By the end of our caroling we had attracted a grand total of six people, but all well. They seemed appreciative. One of them had even baked us a Hawaiian cake. But she warned us that it might not have turned out, seeing as she had forgotten to put the egg in at the proper time. Which made us wonder...when you did finally remember to put the egg in was it before or after you baked it? Haha, it really was sweet of her though. They kept thanking us profusely, even though our singing was only tolerable. For "Away in a Manger," we started off too low, so we couldn't even get out the "no crib for a bed" part. Everyone laughed, of course, and we started again, higher this time. But I couldn't sing after that because, though most everyone else had managed to except maybe Maryah, I just couldn't stop laughing. There is nothing worse than suppressing laughter; it's a horrid feeling. But we got through it alive.

Afterward we went to the Perl's and ate. Then Mr. Perl, the game king, got out his Christmas jeopardy board. We split into teams and it ended up that all of my family was on one team. We won. And I'm not sure if we are going to get invited back to that community group because Mr. Maxim said, at the end of the night, "I just got introduced to a whole other side of the Wilber's. You guys are competitive." (And he has known us for 6-8 years.) I guess we went a little overboard on the cheering and hand signals and bouncing. 

Sunday morning we arrived at church rather early. I was quite excited when I saw (and smelled) the Christmas tree, and the day only got better after that. Warren Boetcher was up...or over...however that works...and he preached from Daniel 12. Once again exciting, because it was apocalyptic literature; however he put a new spin on it, preaching on one of my favorite topics: how to live in light of eternity. 

After church we somehow ended up with the Hinterberger's again. Though it is a rather swell thing to end up with. Mikaela, Maryah and I rocked the aprons, got all domestic and made pancakes. I think we may have had 20 people in that kitchen since the Crogan's and a few Jeror's were there too. I'll say that if there ever was organized, happy chaos, that was it. It gets the title "organized" because we eventually ended up with lunch on the table, not on the ceiling. "Happy" because everyone was laughing or smiling or talking or singing (songs of choice: Every Move I Make, O Come All Ye Faithful, and Banana Pancakes). "Chaos" because that is just what happens whenever we get together.

Though the entire day did have sort of a surreal quality to it (and not because I was high...at least, I don't think I was). You just get this feeling that you don't deserve any of this. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve God's gift of salvation, let alone all the other gifts He gives me. His forgiveness is way more than enough, but for some reason He didn't stop there. He put me in the best family, with a wonderful mom, a role model dad, and siblings who are amazing. Set me in a great church, that sure, has definitely seen some storms, but is looking at clearer horizons. Given me friends who make me smile, and afternoons like yesterday that are spent on cloud nine. Even if it's really just simple things like decorating the tree at church or flipping pancakes with Mikaela or dancing or running up the road singing Christmas songs at the top of your lungs 'til you can't breathe.

I guess there is no such thing as "could have," but for the sake of things I'm going on a "could have" spiel. I could have been born somewhere else. I could have not graduated high school. I could have headed down a dark, dark road that doesn't reach the light again. I could have rejected the gospel. I could be trapped in some South Asian brothel. I could be all alone. I could be lost and fearful. I could be starving to death.

But I'm not.

God put me here, as a Wilberito, not there. Yeah here is hard in its own ways—everyone has their burdens to bear. But when I think of what I deserve (for the world to blow up in my face and then spend an eternity in pain)...it's an understatement to say I'm rather glad, rather grateful, He did put me here.

And I Say Thank You

Thanksgiving, like Christmas and Easter, is one of those holidays that we should celebrate all the time--not because of the food (thought I'd clarify that point), but because it's a heart attitude that we should constantly cultivate. We should always celebrate Jesus' birth and resurrection, and we should always be thankful for those two great events. Being thankful for what God has done is the only way we can relate properly to Him.

However, this Thanksgiving, rather than writing up a list of a bunch of random things I'm thankful for, or writing a long essay on the awesomeness of salvation by grace, I want to focus on my friends that God has given me.

For I am extremely thankful for my friends! The apostle Paul frequently thanked God for his friends, and I feel a great need to appreciate my friends too. It is uncommon to find such good friends as I have, even in Christian circles. So here is a blogger shout out to Hannah, Jordan, Mariah, Jennifer, Jared, Josiah, Mikaela, Jonathan, Alex, Bethany, Demory, Delian, Ben, and Michelle.

You are all eternally valuable to me.
You pull me to higher standards, and help me set my mind on things above.
You are God-centric. 
You inspire a whole variety of pleasant emotions in my heart.
You are real and natural and grounded.
You encourage me.
You get me out of myself.
You help me make sense out of life.
You are amazing examples of what it's like to be servants, sons, and daughters of God.
You give me peace through the peace God has set in each of your hearts.
You do marvelous things to me.
You show me how to live.
You are respectful of each other.
You are kind and generous.
You demonstrate wisdom.
You give me hope.
You show me how to worship.
You are fun.

The list goes on (seriously, it does), and each of you have star roles in some of those areas or minor roles in others...because you all have a unique way of interacting with me. A unique combination of strengths and weaknesses that meld with my strengths and weaknesses and let us be friends. Life without any of you would be horrible...which is why God must have given you to me :). He knew how much I would need you.

Thank you.

Refreshed

New Years Eve. I think I always look forward to a new year. A fresh start. New adventures. New trials to overcome. New problems to solve. "The old has past away; behold, the new has come." (2 Cor. 5:17) I always loved that verse. It's refreshing. It gives you that feeling of laying out on a quiet beach in FL, basking in the sun....not thinking of anything in particular. I, my family, and friends have been through a VERY trying year...BUT WE MADE IT!!! Next year might be 10 times harder (I'm praying it won't be) but we did it! If you had told me everything that would happen this past year...I probably would have looked at you with this really weird face and called you a heretic lol. Anyways....I always want to remember this feeling of hope that I get on New Years. So that when life gets crazy I can look back on it and remember how God got us through this year. And He can do it again a million billion willion times over!

As I think of everything we have been through, I also think of how I've grown in my relationship with my friends and God. My friends: always digging deeper and not just goofing off (though we still and always will goof off at least little =). Encouraging one another with notes and scripture...praying for one another...and just being there. My God: I have a new passion for wanting to KNOW about God. I want to fulfill His commandment to learn, understand, and be able to stand up for my faith (2 Tim 2:15, Jude 3, 1 Peter 3:15). Thank you everyone who has helped me to have this Passion!
Dell~thank you for taking the initiative over our little group and treating us all as your little sisters!
Demory~thanks for always wanting to talk and listen!
Anna~you are the best cousin in the world! A Grande sized thanks for wanting to be there!
Hannah~your letters always brighten my day and make me smile! You don't know how much I appreciate them!
Jennifer~thank you for being my friend no matter what and for being my comical relief!
Bethany~I seriously don't know what I would do without our friendship! I love you!
A Venti sized thanks to all of you!! *hugs*
~mattea