These pictures make it seem like I just returned from the most relaxing trip in the wilderness of some faraway land with trees as far as the eye could see, no cell phone reception, no cars, and no noise, right? Wrong. I took these pictures in Yosemite National Park -- I place I had always dreamed of traveling to. I imagined mountains and wild animals and pleasant little walking trails and silence. While I certainly saw mountains, this trip was anything but quiet, let alone silent. What you don't see pictured is the hustle and bustle of the thousands of people that I was actually surrounded by, the honking of car horns (as traffic in the Park was at a stand-still), and the sea of iPhones in the grubby little hands of every pubescent teenager who was begrudgingly dragged along on this road trip by their parents. What you don't see is the look of shock on my face as I realized that this trip was going to be a far cry from what I anticipated. Isn't that so characteristic of life, though? It is often when things turn out to be exactly the opposite of what we had thought them to be that we end up learning the most. And it seems that I had a lot to learn. I didn't expect that I would have three different family members die within four months of each other this year. I didn't expect that senior year at my university would be the hardest one yet. I didn't expect that I would make new friends, travel to new countries, or discover new desires in my heart this year, either. I also didn't expect that Yosemite National Park would be packed with tourists and noisy as hell. My point is, while at times the unexpected can be tragic or even just uncomfortable, sometimes it can take us by surprise and stun us with beauty. For me, hiking in Yosemite turned out to be one of those beautifully unexpected things. Of course, there were the "expected" items on my bucket list that I was able to check off. I hiked under Bridal Veil falls and got soaking wet. I was blinded by the mist as I stared up at the top of the falls and into the sun. I snapped an annoying and over-abundant amount of pictures of El Capitain and Half Dome, and got the T-shirt to prove it. I sat at a picnic table and ate my lunch with my mom and my aunt, and looked down at my dirty and worn feet, strapped into my bright blue Teva sandals. Excluding the tourists and the noise, it was turning out to be the perfect day. In my selfish (and honestly, just really introverted) head, the only thing that could possibly ruin this day would be...other people. Sure enough, as I sat down at a picnic table while my mom and aunt searched for a bathroom, a young man in mountain climbing gear got out of his van, laid out a tarp right next to me (ignoring the giant field of space beside me that was entirely empty of, well, me), and began organizing his equipment. He nodded at me, trying to appear nonchalant. Great. As I braced myself for him to hit on me or start up unwanted conversation with me, I was surprised as I was greeted by... his silence. He didn't try talking to me. He just got to work, organizing the equipment for his climb. Now, I was intrigued. He was handsome, but seemed comfortable being alone. It didn't appear that anyone was accompanying him. I watched, curiously, as he used his arm to repeatedly measure out lengths of his coiled rope. He had clearly done this before. With worn hands that had probably gripped granite crevices on hundreds of climbs, he kept moving skillfully from one task to another, gathering his equipment. He was comfortable in the silence of my presence. I had a lot to learn from this unexpected vagabond. My mom and aunt returned, chattering at each other cheerfully over their relief of finally finding a bathroom. My aunt shot me a knowing look when she noticed the interesting young man just feet away from me. Always the friendliest of the bunch, Aunt Janie gave a "hello" to him in her cheery, sing-song voice. He looked up, grateful to be greeted, and returned her "hello." Then, he looked down, and went back to his work. Now, I was more than curious. "Getting ready for a climb, today?" I could have kicked myself for finally asking such an obvious question. "Yup," he replied. As Aunt Janie and my mom laid out fresh cherries and drinks on the picnic table, the young stranger actually got up and joined as at our table. "Mind if I sit for a second?" What followed was probably one of the most interesting hours of conversation I've had with anyone in years. A true modern vagabond, this guy has traveled all over the world climbing mountains. Besides being a professional, sponsored climber, he also served in the Navy, fought California forest fires as a "hot shot," (his actual job title), and joined YOSAR (Yosemite Search and Rescue team). I listened to him tell countless stories from his childhood growing up just miles from the Park, of mountains that he's climbed across every continent, of his time in the military, and on his current "missing persons" cases in YOSAR. He never went to college, lives in his giant white van, and randomly owns 200 acres of California ranch land that he someday hopes to build a home on. We were the first to leave, as my mom and aunt were eager to get back on the road. The kind and interesting stranger left to go meet up with his climbing partner. And I was left with a lot to think about. I am so grateful to this handsome and adventurous man. Thank you, kind stranger, for reminding me that my life doesn't always have to look "expected." You chose the most radical and unexpected life path, and have all of the beauty and happiness to show for it. It would have been so easy for you to do the "typical" high school --- college --- 9-5 job --- retirement path of life that most of us embark on. But you have reminded me to leave my life open to the breath of fresh air of possibilities. And for that reminder, thank you. Thank you for quietly being in my presence, even though you probably sensed my discomfort. And thank you for reminding me that more beautiful than any mountains, or trees, or wildlife is the face of a person you have never met before. Thank you, kind stranger, for being the most beautiful and unexpected thing that I encountered in Yosemite National Park. But you have reminded me to leave my life open to the breath of fresh air of possibilities. And for that reminder, thank you. Archives
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I graduated from the Franciscan University of Steubenville this month. There's a million different things that I could say about this school which I have grown to love so much over the past four years. The pertinent fact here, however, is my time that was spent in Rosa Mystica Household. There's no Greek life on campus. Instead of sororities and fraternities, there are similar groups of men and women called households. Each household is based around a different spirituality, and has different common times for prayer together, and various devotions to certain Saints and Scripture verses. Naturally, the household that I joined revolves entirely around gardens. I joined Rosa as a dorky and eager freshman, and over the course of four years, it became commonplace to think of my life and my faith in terms that my heart naturally grasped --- terms that revolved around earthiness and gardening. Growing. Watering. Cultivating. Planting. Blossoming. Wilting. Harvesting. Tilling. It is this notion of tilling that I think perfectly encapsulates my life, and more specifically, my four years at Franciscan. That is what this blog is dedicated to: tilling the garden of my life. Tilling is hard work. Tilling is painful. It involves harrowing and plowing the soil to prepare it for planting. Over my four years at Franciscan, my heart was tilled and plowed and harrowed until I thought that I could take no more. The sharp edge of the plow of my sufferings dug into the dust of my heart as deeply as it could, churning and tearing up the earth beneath in order to loosen it up and render it open to the possibility of fertility, new life, and growth. Without tilling, the earth of my heart would grow stagnate. There would be no room to plant. A plow (traditionally) is pulled by two yoked animals walking side by side. Alone, one animal would not have the strength to pull the plow. The yoke joining the two animals together combines the strength of both of their efforts, and enables them to pull the plow. It is my household sisters that I have to thank for plowing the garden of my heart alongside me. Many nights of crying in the arms of my sisters, laughing with them over our goofy antics, sharing my meditations and reflections from prayer, listening to their problems and sufferings and joys, and celebrating every nook and cranny of life together tilled my soil day after day after day. The rains fell --- some peaceful, and some stormy. The sunshine of happy days poured down upon my fields. The seasons of my life came and went over four years. My garden grew. The Divine Gardener has looked upon all the green lushness of my vineyards. And He has looked upon all this beauty that we have harvested and reaped together and has said: "It is good." To Grace: Thank you for showing me what it is to stand by someone's side at the foot of the Cross. As dramatic as it sounds, you and I both know what that means for us and our sisterhood that we fought for day after day. We know. Thank you for late night talks and cries. Thank you for being my sounding board. Thank you for reaching out to me with newness each and every morning that we lived together, loving me even when my heart was icy and cold and miles away from your gentle heart which was sitting only three feet away from me. Thank you for inviting me to let down my walls, for your patience in watching them fall, and for your warmth when vulnerability left me terrified and hardened to your friendship. Thank you for standing bravely at the "ground zero" of my conversion to Jesus, and my healing. You fearlessly wandered through the brambles and thorns of my garden, and helped me to weed out all that doesn't belong there. And I will never have the words to thank you for who you are to me. Thank you for witnessing to the Resurrection in my life and for celebrating in the healing of my life with me. Thank you for letting me hold you on your weak days in turn, and for sharing your sufferings with me. I love you with the entirety of my heart. Your friendship has saved my life in a hundred ways. To Jessie: Gosh dang. Thank you for fighting for a "me" that I didn't even realize was there underneath all of the crap. Thank you for unrelentingly fighting for my friendship when I wasn't even sure I wanted to let you in. One of the greatest victories of Christ in my life was the day that I decided to stop fighting your love and friendship. You filled my life with springtime blossoms. I love you, and every little thing about you. Thank you for letting me into your heart and for trusting me enough to see you. Our friendship is truly a very rare pearl of great price --- it is such a gift to be seen and known by another person. Though at times it seems that we couldn't be more different, we have almost never failed to see each other. We walk leisurely through the beauty of each other's gardens. And man, your heart is such a sight to behold. Thanks for being so beautiful. To Briana: Dude, I don't even know how you and I are alive right now. But PRAISE God. Thanks for all the glasses of wine, all the crying, all the laughing and hysterics, and all of our ridiculous antics. Thank you for letting me drag you to Damon's a million times and for taking me to your home and for allowing your family to be my second family and for SUGAR and for shopping sprees and for living life to the fullest with me. I met you --- truly met you --- during one of the darkest hours of my life (and I think it's safe to say that the same goes for you). There. are. no. words. for. what. you. have. been. to. me. this. year. Thank you for helping me survive senior year, for becoming one of my best friends, and for being in my life when everyone else opted to run away. Thank you for your friendship, and for your ridiculousness and laughter on the good days. Thank you for spontaneously getting on planes with me and going to foreign lands. Thank you for not judging me for how bad my sunburns get, and for snuggles and for loving me. To Rachie-Rach, my COCO! Thank you for being the best thing that EVER could have happened to me during junior year. Being coordinator of Rosa Mystica Household was such a great privilege, and spending it with you by my side was joyous beyond words. I mean it with my whole heart when I say that I could NOT have done that with anyone else but you by my side. You are strong, and faithful, and honest, and good, and brave --- and I love you. You are a holy woman. You are a ridiculously funny woman. And you are my sister forever and ever. Thank you for allowing me to be my freakishly weird self with you by my side. Every day is like Christmas with you, baby ;) Thanks for being the only person in my life who will ever love Santa as much as me. To Corinne: Honestly, I just want to applaud you. I have no idea how you put up with me! You got so much crap from me freshman year (and sophomore year, let's be real). I came into this school as a stubborn, hardened freshman who had no idea all of the healing that Jesus had in store for me and my achey breaky heart. I'm an intensely emotional person, and during this transitional time of my life, it seemed like every part of my heart was in an uproar. But you stood there with me. And I was in awe. Amidst the anger and the growing and the stretching and the hiding and the excuses, you saw something in me that it took years for me to see in myself. Thank you for being my Big, for leading me through formation, for being the kind of woman whom I could only hope to emulate in some small way, and for always being there for me. You're going to be such an incredible mom to Baby G! You are what made me join Rosa. And I love you to infinity and beyond. To Anna Grace: Gosh I love you. I can't really explain what happened with our sisterhood this year other than by saying that it was the most beautiful and unexpected gift that Jesus could have given me. How beautiful and how rare that I am closer to you now than I ever was when we were in school together! Thanks for the newness of your friendship and for being my CHAMPION in so much of my suffering this year. Thank you for marrying a good man because dang girl, your vocation fills my heart with so much joy and awe and gives me a hope that I never had before. To Julia: Thank you for being the most unexpected ray of sunshine in my life. You are this beautiful little poet with the heart of King David and I cannot get enough of you. Thank you for seeing parts of me that nobody else sees, and for reminding me of all things that are innocent and joyous and good and deep. Thank you for sharing your beautiful writing with me, for opening your beautiful mind to me, for sharing your thoughts in such an eloquent and fascinating way, and for reminding me that I don't have to be perfect or have it all together to be worthy of your love. Thank you for accepting my love, even when I'm busy and it looks messy. To Alexandra: H-o-l-y S-m-o-k-e-s. Honestly, I'm at a bit of a loss for words. Thank you for persistently loving me and spending time with me even when I can be unbearably miserable and lame ;) Thanks for always being down for satisfying my Dunkin Donuts needs, and for Netflixing with me constantly. Thanks for being my other half in so many hysterical and profound ways. You went out of your way to show kindness and friendship to me during such a lonely year of my life, and for that, I will never be able to properly repay you. You are a GIFT to me, Alex. A really, really beautiful gift. Thank you for being the Jack Sparrow to my Ron Swanson. "We amaze me." And so, I find myself uprooted from the garden where I have grown so much. But that's okay. I cannot wait to see where God replants each and every one of us. I guess I just wanted to say "thank you." Thank you for tilling my garden. I truly believe that the best is yet to come. |