A Litany of Longing from "The Magnificat Advent Companion"
In the dryness of prayer, we long for you O Lord!
Come, Lord Jesus (Rev 22:20)
In the dissatisfaction of useless entertainments, we long for you, O Lord!
Come, Lord Jesus.
In the desert created in us by overwork, we long for you O Lord!
Come, Lord Jesus.
In our thirst to love and be loved, we long for you O Lord!
Come, Lord Jesus.
In our yearning for priorities that matter, we long for you O Lord!
Come, Lord Jesus.
In our desire for a just world, we long for you, O Lord!
Come, Lord Jesus.
In the darkness of our accumulated sins, we long for you, O Lord!
Come, Lord Jesus.
In the hopelessness of our addictions, we long for you O Lord!
Come, Lord Jesus.
In the emptiness of habits of mind that nourish no one, we long for you, O Lord!
Come, Lord Jesus.
In our restlessness for something beyond our present good, we long for you, O Lord!
Come, Lord Jesus.
In our search for an anchor in life, we long for you, O Lord!
Come, Lord Jesus.
In our pursuit of beauty and goodness, we long for you, O Lord!
Come, Lord Jesus.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
may he find us.
Purify our conscience, Almighty God, by your daily visitation, that your Son Jesus Christ, at his coming, may find in us a mansion prepared for himself; who live and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.
Amen.
Amen.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
happy new year.
Today marks the beginning of Advent. For four weeks the Church will anticipate the coming of the King, reflecting on poignant parts of this remarkable story of redemption.
I hope to write a weekly reflection for each week of this season. Tonight St. Brendan's joined with the greater Anglican Church to discuss waiting. We lit the candle of Hope, reflecting on patience for the great restoration Christ will one day bring.
For now, a prayer to begin this beautiful season:
I hope to write a weekly reflection for each week of this season. Tonight St. Brendan's joined with the greater Anglican Church to discuss waiting. We lit the candle of Hope, reflecting on patience for the great restoration Christ will one day bring.
For now, a prayer to begin this beautiful season:
Among
the poor, among the proud,
among the persecuted,
among the privileged,
Christ is coming to make all things new.
among the persecuted,
among the privileged,
Christ is coming to make all things new.
In the
private house, in the public place,
in the wedding feast,
in the judgment hall,
Christ is coming to make all things new.
in the wedding feast,
in the judgment hall,
Christ is coming to make all things new.
With a
gentle touch, with an angry word,
with a clear conscience,
with burning love,
Christ is coming to make all things new.
with a clear conscience,
with burning love,
Christ is coming to make all things new.
That the
kingdom might come,
that the world might believe,
that the powerful might stumble,
that the hidden might be seen,
Christ is coming to make all things new.
that the world might believe,
that the powerful might stumble,
that the hidden might be seen,
Christ is coming to make all things new.
Within
us, without us, behind us, before us,
in this place, in every place,
for this time, for all time,
Christ is coming to make all things new.
in this place, in every place,
for this time, for all time,
Christ is coming to make all things new.
Amen.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
not just a dinner.
This is my favorite weekend of the year. The weekend prior to Thanksgiving always carries so much anticipation. In college we anticipated Sabbath from class and the joy of having just a few weeks left until Winter Break. Last year I flew home on this day to a week-long vacation with the family--which provided a much-needed break from DC and perspective and preparation for big life changes.
Since the Parents moved to Cali this summer, I decided to host a dinner for all those unable to go home for break. My little brother is coming too, and I'm superduper excited. This and this will make an appearance on the dessert menu. Want to join?
I also love this season as next week starts ADVENT! YES! I'm so ready to start the rhythm of the Christmas season. Anticipation, expectation, deliverance, redemption. There is such joy during this time of year.
I also see great significance in making the season of Thanksgiving a time of intentional remembrance. For significant blessings and provisions, for dear friends and significant conversations, for the timing of God's grace or unexpected patience from a stranger. What a profound mystery to celebrate and give thanks right before entering the time of celebrating Advent. We remember how God has redeemed, with the hope and understanding that he will do so again.
Today, I am thankful. Today I am thankful for my roommates, for this beautiful home, for our neighbors in city. I am thankful for my faraway friends (Hannah, Roberts, Woods, Wells, High, Megs); you all are so near and dear to me. I am thankful for the way God has orchestrated the move to this great city and amazing organization. I am thankful for his perfect timing--for the seasons of the earth and the seasons of life. I am thankful for my new church community, for the amazing love they continually show, and for the children I'm so privileged to teach. I am thankful for my parents' move, for the new life of Modi, for Jenna and Nathan and Jonathan and how they continue to challenge me. I am thankful for the comfort of my bed and for the heat in this home. I take none of this for granted.
Lord, may we enter this gate to Advent with Thanksgiving in our hearts.
Since the Parents moved to Cali this summer, I decided to host a dinner for all those unable to go home for break. My little brother is coming too, and I'm superduper excited. This and this will make an appearance on the dessert menu. Want to join?
I also love this season as next week starts ADVENT! YES! I'm so ready to start the rhythm of the Christmas season. Anticipation, expectation, deliverance, redemption. There is such joy during this time of year.
I also see great significance in making the season of Thanksgiving a time of intentional remembrance. For significant blessings and provisions, for dear friends and significant conversations, for the timing of God's grace or unexpected patience from a stranger. What a profound mystery to celebrate and give thanks right before entering the time of celebrating Advent. We remember how God has redeemed, with the hope and understanding that he will do so again.
Today, I am thankful. Today I am thankful for my roommates, for this beautiful home, for our neighbors in city. I am thankful for my faraway friends (Hannah, Roberts, Woods, Wells, High, Megs); you all are so near and dear to me. I am thankful for the way God has orchestrated the move to this great city and amazing organization. I am thankful for his perfect timing--for the seasons of the earth and the seasons of life. I am thankful for my new church community, for the amazing love they continually show, and for the children I'm so privileged to teach. I am thankful for my parents' move, for the new life of Modi, for Jenna and Nathan and Jonathan and how they continue to challenge me. I am thankful for the comfort of my bed and for the heat in this home. I take none of this for granted.
Lord, may we enter this gate to Advent with Thanksgiving in our hearts.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
"You are welcome here."
On a recent roadtrip, a dear friend and I landed on the discussion of what character traits we really value and really despise in friendships. I may attribute the topic to it being 2 am and us being lost in the winding roads of West Virginia, but it was so enlightening.
As my closest friend in DC, she has great ability to speak about the good (and not good, terribly bad) traits I portray. An honest and open conversation it became and we soon discussed how to remedy and not become the people or characteristics we detest.
She echoed back what I said I value most in a friendship: hospitality and trustworthiness. Not hospitality in the "let's have a slumber party at my house" way, but the type of "what's mine is yours" and "please take my jacket". I respect the individuals in my life who have shown me such a great and sacrificial welcome that I strive to be like them, and to create a world where deep hospitality is normal.
I attended a bible study in college at a professor's house. I honestly cannot tell you a lot of what we discussed, but I so vividly remember and treasure their genuine hospitality. Tim would greet us at the door, always saying "You are welcome here." I actually believed him every time. Sarah prepared the tea, and always offered her top-shelf, coveted black licorice tea. They were genuine and honest and truly welcoming.
Fast forward to a month ago when I made an extended visit to the South. Yes, the southern hospitality rumors are true. But again, it did not come in the form of a quick dinner or house party. Instead, I found genuine hospitality in the way an elderly family friend welcomed all the bridesmaids to a southern high tea at her beautiful estate. She wanted to welcome us into her home--not because she knew us or loved us--but, she said "because I know I have the ability to do this." She is gifted at making people feel comfortable and welcomed, and she beamed with love when she did so. The entire bridal family overflowed with hospitality as well--sending me back to DC with lots of food and goodies, and offering a Thanksgiving in the south. These amazing people who I have met twice make me feel ever so loved and cherished just by saying "you are welcome here."
Feeling loved evolves when one feels comfortable and welcomed. I begin to trust when I know you want me in the space you have created. Such profound conversations and friendships have evolved when someone breaks bread at their dinner table, or invites the community to their living room. I believe (and want and desire) the church should function like this; we are a community of many houses, of many spaces created to welcome any and all. What if we all welcomed in such a genuine and selfless way? There would be no person left unloved.
You are welcome here. You belong. You are loved.
As my closest friend in DC, she has great ability to speak about the good (and not good, terribly bad) traits I portray. An honest and open conversation it became and we soon discussed how to remedy and not become the people or characteristics we detest.
She echoed back what I said I value most in a friendship: hospitality and trustworthiness. Not hospitality in the "let's have a slumber party at my house" way, but the type of "what's mine is yours" and "please take my jacket". I respect the individuals in my life who have shown me such a great and sacrificial welcome that I strive to be like them, and to create a world where deep hospitality is normal.
I attended a bible study in college at a professor's house. I honestly cannot tell you a lot of what we discussed, but I so vividly remember and treasure their genuine hospitality. Tim would greet us at the door, always saying "You are welcome here." I actually believed him every time. Sarah prepared the tea, and always offered her top-shelf, coveted black licorice tea. They were genuine and honest and truly welcoming.
Fast forward to a month ago when I made an extended visit to the South. Yes, the southern hospitality rumors are true. But again, it did not come in the form of a quick dinner or house party. Instead, I found genuine hospitality in the way an elderly family friend welcomed all the bridesmaids to a southern high tea at her beautiful estate. She wanted to welcome us into her home--not because she knew us or loved us--but, she said "because I know I have the ability to do this." She is gifted at making people feel comfortable and welcomed, and she beamed with love when she did so. The entire bridal family overflowed with hospitality as well--sending me back to DC with lots of food and goodies, and offering a Thanksgiving in the south. These amazing people who I have met twice make me feel ever so loved and cherished just by saying "you are welcome here."
Feeling loved evolves when one feels comfortable and welcomed. I begin to trust when I know you want me in the space you have created. Such profound conversations and friendships have evolved when someone breaks bread at their dinner table, or invites the community to their living room. I believe (and want and desire) the church should function like this; we are a community of many houses, of many spaces created to welcome any and all. What if we all welcomed in such a genuine and selfless way? There would be no person left unloved.
You are welcome here. You belong. You are loved.
Monday, October 10, 2011
on becoming Anglican.
I claim St. Brendan's of the City as my church and community home. This group of believers gathers each Sunday night in one of the city's homeless shelters, gathers around a single piano, and takes the Eucharist together. These people challenge me each week to see the gospel spilling over in each passage of scripture and in each step of the service. From the communal confession to the passing of the peace, we practice the gospel together in our actions and words; creating and orchestrating a rhythm we're to follow the rest of the week.
Attending church week after week is often hard for me. After a busy work week and a full Saturday, sometimes I receive more rest and restoration from staying home on Sunday nights. The community and gathering of believers, though, cannot function if everyone decides to receive refreshment at home. If I claim to want to practice the sacraments with this community, then I must step outside of myself to seek to share the peace with these people.
Becoming a member of St. Brendan's community is nothing more than a verbal commitment to these people. I decide to say that the Body is greater than my needs, teaching the children is the most important speech I'll give all week, and my body and soul can return to the patterns--and the reflective and restorative Sabbath-- of the service.
I love the pattern of the Anglican service. The Eucharist clearly takes the precedence of the service; the service never relies on the sermon, or if the speaker had a bad day. Instead, taking communion together as a body demonstrates a union between one another, and between the Body and Christ. Every week we come together, to confess our sins, to celebrate each other, and to draw strength from the personhood and sacrifice of Christ.
Often in sermon-heavy churches, we can never remember the point of the message. I remember growing up how my family would often talk about the most awkward thing the pastor said that week, and I humbly admit that I could rarely remember the purpose of the sermon the next time I stepped in the church. I rejoice in the liturgy because the patterns of the service are the things that permeate my mind and actions during the week: confession, worship, prayer, passing the peace, rejoicing in Christ. I remember the words of the benediction and the purpose of why we confess as a body, much more so than I ever remembered the sermons of my church growing up. I love the repetition, the beauty of the liturgical calendar and how it wonderfully represents the seasons and the timeliness of Creation. I love how our patterns mirror the Scriptures, and the deep meaning within each gospel reading.
In two weeks I will join the Anglican Church. I will join the history of believers who proclaim the gospel in liturgy, who confess to knowing nothing beyond the love of Christ. I will join this church and commit to these people. I will say the first “I dos” in this church, representing a communcl promise to staying unified with these people. As we confess and grow and learn and discover God’s grace, we will further the kingdom together and know the beauty of the love of Christ.
Attending church week after week is often hard for me. After a busy work week and a full Saturday, sometimes I receive more rest and restoration from staying home on Sunday nights. The community and gathering of believers, though, cannot function if everyone decides to receive refreshment at home. If I claim to want to practice the sacraments with this community, then I must step outside of myself to seek to share the peace with these people.
Becoming a member of St. Brendan's community is nothing more than a verbal commitment to these people. I decide to say that the Body is greater than my needs, teaching the children is the most important speech I'll give all week, and my body and soul can return to the patterns--and the reflective and restorative Sabbath-- of the service.
I love the pattern of the Anglican service. The Eucharist clearly takes the precedence of the service; the service never relies on the sermon, or if the speaker had a bad day. Instead, taking communion together as a body demonstrates a union between one another, and between the Body and Christ. Every week we come together, to confess our sins, to celebrate each other, and to draw strength from the personhood and sacrifice of Christ.
Often in sermon-heavy churches, we can never remember the point of the message. I remember growing up how my family would often talk about the most awkward thing the pastor said that week, and I humbly admit that I could rarely remember the purpose of the sermon the next time I stepped in the church. I rejoice in the liturgy because the patterns of the service are the things that permeate my mind and actions during the week: confession, worship, prayer, passing the peace, rejoicing in Christ. I remember the words of the benediction and the purpose of why we confess as a body, much more so than I ever remembered the sermons of my church growing up. I love the repetition, the beauty of the liturgical calendar and how it wonderfully represents the seasons and the timeliness of Creation. I love how our patterns mirror the Scriptures, and the deep meaning within each gospel reading.
In two weeks I will join the Anglican Church. I will join the history of believers who proclaim the gospel in liturgy, who confess to knowing nothing beyond the love of Christ. I will join this church and commit to these people. I will say the first “I dos” in this church, representing a communcl promise to staying unified with these people. As we confess and grow and learn and discover God’s grace, we will further the kingdom together and know the beauty of the love of Christ.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
essaysgradschoolfuture.
What do I want to study?
- Why do social, economic, and political structures often hurt individuals the systems were created to help?
- What opportunities and influence do women have to create change in their local economies and political structures? What do women need to help feel (and be) empowered to create economic change?
- Historically, how have women contributed to the economic development of specific societies?
Where do I want to go?
- East Coast.
- West Coast.
- No more Midwest.
How do I do this?
- Essays.
- Passion.
- GRE.
- Motivation/support/encouragement.
- Lots of prayer and luck.
- Money.
- Why do social, economic, and political structures often hurt individuals the systems were created to help?
- What opportunities and influence do women have to create change in their local economies and political structures? What do women need to help feel (and be) empowered to create economic change?
- Historically, how have women contributed to the economic development of specific societies?
Where do I want to go?
- East Coast.
- West Coast.
- No more Midwest.
How do I do this?
- Essays.
- Passion.
- GRE.
- Motivation/support/encouragement.
- Lots of prayer and luck.
- Money.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
resting.
Jesus, I am resting, resting, in the joy of what Thou art;
I am finding out the greatness of Thy loving heart.
Though has bid me gaze upon Thee,
And Thy beauty fills my soul,
For Thy transforming power, Thou hast made me whole.
O, how great Thy loving kindness,
Vaster, broader than the sea!
O, how marvelous Thy goodness, lavished all on me!
Yes, I rest I Thee, Beloved,
Know what wealth of grace is Thine,
Know Thy certainty of promise, and have made it mine.
Simply trusting Thee, Lord Jesus,
I behold Thee as though art,
Ad Thy love so pure, so changeless, satisfies my heart.
Satisfies my deepest longing,
Meets, supplies its every need,
And surrounds me with its blessing: Thine is love indeed!
Ever lift thy face upon me as I work and wait for Thee;
Resting ‘neath thy smile, Lord Jesus,
Earth’s dark shadows fell.
Brightness of my Father’s glory,
Sunshine of my Father’s face,
Keep me ever trusting, resting, fill me with Thy grace.
I am finding out the greatness of Thy loving heart.
Though has bid me gaze upon Thee,
And Thy beauty fills my soul,
For Thy transforming power, Thou hast made me whole.
O, how great Thy loving kindness,
Vaster, broader than the sea!
O, how marvelous Thy goodness, lavished all on me!
Yes, I rest I Thee, Beloved,
Know what wealth of grace is Thine,
Know Thy certainty of promise, and have made it mine.
Simply trusting Thee, Lord Jesus,
I behold Thee as though art,
Ad Thy love so pure, so changeless, satisfies my heart.
Satisfies my deepest longing,
Meets, supplies its every need,
And surrounds me with its blessing: Thine is love indeed!
Ever lift thy face upon me as I work and wait for Thee;
Resting ‘neath thy smile, Lord Jesus,
Earth’s dark shadows fell.
Brightness of my Father’s glory,
Sunshine of my Father’s face,
Keep me ever trusting, resting, fill me with Thy grace.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
the history of love.
"The first language humans had was gestures. There was nothing primitive about this language that flowed from people's hands, nothing that could not be said in the endless array of movements possible with the fine bones of the fingers and writs. The gestures were complex and subtle, involving a delicacy of motion that has since been lost completely.
Naturally, there were misunderstandings. There were times when a finger might have been lifted to scratch a nose, and if causal eye contact was made with one's lover just then, the lover might accidentally take it to be the gesture, not at all dissimilar, for 'Now I realize I was wrong to love you.' These mistakes were heart-breaking. And yet, because people knew how easily they could happen, because they didn't go around with the illusion that they understood perfectly the things other people said, they were used to interrupting each other to ask if they'd understood correctly.
Sometimes these misunderstandings were even desirable, since they gave people a reason to say, 'Forgive me, I was only scratching my nose. Of course I know I've always been right to love you.' Because of the frequency of these mistakes over time the gesture for asking forgiveness evolved into the simplest form. Just to open your palm was to say 'Forgive me'."
The History of Love, Nicole Krauss.
I have asked for forgiveness so many times. And yet, not enough. If forgiveness was only as easy as turning over your empty hand, confessing the emptiness that exists without the pardoning offered from your love. To be kindred spirits, I believe, is to be able to open your hands to one another and know that all is forgiven.
Let us continue to make gestures to one another, continue to attempt to communicate what we think and feel and believe. And then, when we do not understand, let us stop and ask for the missing words. We will stop and seek clarity, because a life without understanding is no life at all.
Naturally, there were misunderstandings. There were times when a finger might have been lifted to scratch a nose, and if causal eye contact was made with one's lover just then, the lover might accidentally take it to be the gesture, not at all dissimilar, for 'Now I realize I was wrong to love you.' These mistakes were heart-breaking. And yet, because people knew how easily they could happen, because they didn't go around with the illusion that they understood perfectly the things other people said, they were used to interrupting each other to ask if they'd understood correctly.
Sometimes these misunderstandings were even desirable, since they gave people a reason to say, 'Forgive me, I was only scratching my nose. Of course I know I've always been right to love you.' Because of the frequency of these mistakes over time the gesture for asking forgiveness evolved into the simplest form. Just to open your palm was to say 'Forgive me'."
The History of Love, Nicole Krauss.
I have asked for forgiveness so many times. And yet, not enough. If forgiveness was only as easy as turning over your empty hand, confessing the emptiness that exists without the pardoning offered from your love. To be kindred spirits, I believe, is to be able to open your hands to one another and know that all is forgiven.
Let us continue to make gestures to one another, continue to attempt to communicate what we think and feel and believe. And then, when we do not understand, let us stop and ask for the missing words. We will stop and seek clarity, because a life without understanding is no life at all.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Saturday afternoon musings.
I just picked up this book at the most fantastic used book sale I've ever perused.
I am shamelessly obsessed with Madmen. Fortunately, the only thing that keeps my obsession under control is the fact that the DC Public Library does not have the fourth season on DVD yet. Though I missed the first few seasons during Primetime, my slow catch-up pace can be intertwined with all discussions/articles/inspirations on and for the show.
Ah, thank you, Don Draper, for giving us numerous ways to express frustration.
And thanks to a little help from Betty Draper, dresses like this are now back in style. Yes, we can wear yellow patterned dresses and not feel juvenile. Thanks, Mango., for helping the Madmen-obsessed channel the styling a little bit easier.
I'm so tempted to read the spoilers. Here's hoping the library or Netflix picks up the next few seasons soon.
I am shamelessly obsessed with Madmen. Fortunately, the only thing that keeps my obsession under control is the fact that the DC Public Library does not have the fourth season on DVD yet. Though I missed the first few seasons during Primetime, my slow catch-up pace can be intertwined with all discussions/articles/inspirations on and for the show.
Ah, thank you, Don Draper, for giving us numerous ways to express frustration.
And thanks to a little help from Betty Draper, dresses like this are now back in style. Yes, we can wear yellow patterned dresses and not feel juvenile. Thanks, Mango., for helping the Madmen-obsessed channel the styling a little bit easier.
I'm so tempted to read the spoilers. Here's hoping the library or Netflix picks up the next few seasons soon.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
sabbath.
I received my diploma in the mail this week.
How very anti-climatic; the piece of paper handed to me by the postal worker. No email, no congratulations, no personal note from a professor to say confirm that I am actually off the hook from any more assignments. No more chapel, no more no more nose ring; no more all-nighters, no more Cedarville curfew.
This little piece of paper carries a lot of weight.
And now I find myself in the big city. A legitimately big city. That little piece of paper tells me that I am now free (FREE!) to choose how to spend my time. I no longer feel bonded that all my free time be dedicated to the pursuit of an 'A'. I no longer feel like I must be involved in every single campus organization. Yes, the Cedarville bubble has popped.
I am entirely exhausted. The last few months have been a whirlwind, and God has answered some crazy prayers in most amazing ways. I was literally in school all the time since 2007. Three years of non-stop schoolwork has finally caught up with me, and I feel like I have to re-learn how to enjoy my free time.
And DC is such a good place to learn to do that. My weeks are full of good food, free concerts, documentary discussions, and many visits to an insanely good public library. I love it here, and I love the lessons I'm learning with the beautiful community at IJM.
Life has slowed; this is the Sabbath I've been anticipating. It is beautiful, and I really give the credit to God for ordaining it. IJM is an awesome place to work; I've already learned so much professionally and organizationally. More than that, though, my faith is challenged every day as I am forced to live out my love of Christ in this new work-- for my coworkers and for our clients around the world. Christianity takes on a whole new meaning as I team with other believers to fight for justice and peace for the poor. Beautiful, humble, and entirely talented individuals who know the work they do carries more significance than this world can give.
Thank you, Cedarville for finally setting me free. Thank you to God for these new opportunities, for being ironic, and listening to my pleas. Thanks to my friends for seeing me through all of the ups and downs and reassuring me of the path I've chosen.
Happy Valentine's. May you find love.
How very anti-climatic; the piece of paper handed to me by the postal worker. No email, no congratulations, no personal note from a professor to say confirm that I am actually off the hook from any more assignments. No more chapel, no more no more nose ring; no more all-nighters, no more Cedarville curfew.
This little piece of paper carries a lot of weight.
And now I find myself in the big city. A legitimately big city. That little piece of paper tells me that I am now free (FREE!) to choose how to spend my time. I no longer feel bonded that all my free time be dedicated to the pursuit of an 'A'. I no longer feel like I must be involved in every single campus organization. Yes, the Cedarville bubble has popped.
I am entirely exhausted. The last few months have been a whirlwind, and God has answered some crazy prayers in most amazing ways. I was literally in school all the time since 2007. Three years of non-stop schoolwork has finally caught up with me, and I feel like I have to re-learn how to enjoy my free time.
And DC is such a good place to learn to do that. My weeks are full of good food, free concerts, documentary discussions, and many visits to an insanely good public library. I love it here, and I love the lessons I'm learning with the beautiful community at IJM.
Life has slowed; this is the Sabbath I've been anticipating. It is beautiful, and I really give the credit to God for ordaining it. IJM is an awesome place to work; I've already learned so much professionally and organizationally. More than that, though, my faith is challenged every day as I am forced to live out my love of Christ in this new work-- for my coworkers and for our clients around the world. Christianity takes on a whole new meaning as I team with other believers to fight for justice and peace for the poor. Beautiful, humble, and entirely talented individuals who know the work they do carries more significance than this world can give.
Thank you, Cedarville for finally setting me free. Thank you to God for these new opportunities, for being ironic, and listening to my pleas. Thanks to my friends for seeing me through all of the ups and downs and reassuring me of the path I've chosen.
Happy Valentine's. May you find love.
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