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Somehow it is always difficult to summon the words to adequately describe a trip, an experience, a life-changing event. Perhaps that’s why I take photographs, to capture the moments, the colors, the vibrant life of a place and time. Yet because this was a class trip, an English class trip, I have a journal chock full of details and moments that are helping me to reconstruct that week. It is impossible to remember everything that happened, it is impossible for anyone to remember everything about a trip. The key is in reconstructing the moments that I want to treasure and giving them room to come alive in my memory and on paper.
But for now, here are a few pictures to start the sharing process.

 

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Forgiveness isn’t a comfortable place. It’s really hard to tell someone that things “will be okay”. It’s like saying, “hey, you’ll feel better eventually, get over it”. It’s so much easier to sympathize, to agree that the other person was in the wrong, to dig the hole deeper and deeper around ourselves.
What is forgiveness, really? It’s not saying that the other person was right. It’s not saying that we’re horrible people. It’s not even saying that things are okay now. It’s just letting go of the hurt, climbing out of the hole and continuing on with life. It’s letting go and letting God.
So why does it hurt so much? Why is it so hard to forgive, so hard to “never let the sun set” on our anger? I recently forgave someone that I never thought I could forgive. I never thought I could get rid of the hurt, the sting of memory of being abandoned by someone I thought I trusted. When I think about the person, I no longer think about the pain, I no longer feel hatred. Instead, I feel thankfulness. Yes, thankfulness. I’m no longer tied to the hurt, and I can move on. I can wish the person well, and thank God that I’m free from the chains of unforgiveness. It’s an amazing feeling – nine months ago, I couldn’t have imagined feeling this way.

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But forgiveness isn’t comfortable. An incrementally small part of me wishes I was still angry so that I could kill them again and again in my mind, to recreate the scene of when we meet again (when I’m on top of the world). You couldn’t have approached me with forgiveness six months afterwards, with that anger/sadness burning a hole in my heart. Yet, throughout the past nine months, God has been teaching me the true definition of forgiveness.
I think it’s a misunderstanding that forgiveness is saying that it’s okay. Some things may never be “okay” again in our innermost selves – we may always regret that moment, that event, that lost friendship. Forgiveness is telling God that I can’t take it anymore. I can no longer live with the burden of hurt, the guilt of “what if”. I need the freedom that God promises through his grace, and this is found in forgiving. Letting go and letting God.
I’m reminded of a song by Martina McBride from a few years ago. In Anyway, she sings “God is great, but sometimes life ain’t good. When I pray, it doesn’t always turn out like I think it should.” Life has a funny way of turning us in circles. I never would have dreamed that I’d be at this point in my life without the support of this person, yet amazing things are happening that I never would have dreamed of nine months ago. The very fact that I can thank God for the grace of His forgiveness astounds me every day. I don’t want to hold back. I don’t want to be haunted by what I can’t control, what I couldn’t do, where I failed. The things I wanted nine months ago are not the catalysts for the amazing things that are happening now, and it’s so much better this way.
You may not always be able to see what the future holds, but give the past over to God, and let Him work His miracles. Let go. Let God. Forgiveness isn’t comfortable, but grace and thanksgiving mend the heart, the soul, the mind. Choose forgiveness.

 

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I was skyping my best friend last night – she had called while I was reading an English assignment at some insane evening hour and we proceeded to spend the next hour and a half laughing and acting like we weren’t actually grown ups. You can do that with your best friend, you know. She said that she missed seeing my posts. I said that I’d post “something pretty” for her to wake up to.

True to college student form, she’s probably already awake by the time I’m posting this. The snow pictures are from last winter’s rare snowfall, and it doesn’t do justice to what is falling outside my window right now. It’s beautiful out, dear readers. Campus is covered in a blanket of white, and Marymount’s brick buildings make parts of it look like the scene is copied from a Thomas Kinkade painting. I can’t see the Main House well from this angle, but I’m sure it is breathtaking. I’m watching everyone walk along the sidewalk, or where there was a sidewalk, because everything has a way of being perfectly non distinct in the falling snow. Only a few students are wearing sweats and clunky boots – between the cute hats and fashionable coats, it’s not hard to tell that we’re  a very fashion-focused campus.

The first thing I wanted to do this morning was to brew a cup of tea, just like I was instructed to do via skype last night. Somehow, snow outside seems to make the inside seem extra cozy, which made me recall a few pictures from Christmas. Cozy then was defined by good food and making card houses with my sisters – the kind of cozy that I’d love to emulate in this dorm room, but the concrete block walls and mediocre food makes that somewhat impossible. But that’s why we photograph, no? To capture those memories, to make them live again in places where they may be impossibly perfect or picturesque or blunt or even… impossible.

To my best friend – something pretty, for you. <3

 

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Part of me cannot believe that it’s already Christmas. It seemed that only a few months ago it was summer, and school was just beginning. Yet here it is, December 24th. Christmas Eve. Time seems to go so fast and so slow at the same time, never stopping, just going on and on. This Christmas, I’m more excited than before to spend time with my family – you never know how much you miss spending time with them (just the normal days, the little pretend arguments, and the laughter) until you’ve spent a significant amount of time away from them. And so this Christmas, I’m just thankful to be here. I’m thankful that I’ve finished a semester and I’m excited for the next. Most of all though, I’m thankful for the gift that Christ gave, enabling us to celebrate this season with true joy.

 

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Here in the highly unpredictable Mid-Atlantic, winter isn’t generally full of snow. Sometimes it’s just plain nasty out, like right now (30 degrees with I-have-no-idea-how-many-MPH-winds). At school, we all just roll our eyes and say “Ugh, Virginia weather” or “why can’t we have snow instead of rain?”.But not all days are nasty, and sometimes it’s cold out with the most beautiful sunlight that you’ve ever seen. That’s what happened with these photos. The sunflare was fabulous, but the first and last ones are my favorite. The sun was almost done setting, and we crouched down to the level of the smoldering horizon, before brushing briars and grasses off of our clothes and running back to the house, lured by the promise of hot tea. And so, for me personally, the last image so perfectly captures the end of a winters day here. It’s soft, and volatile, but while the sun lasts you’ll find us wandering through the crisp air, chasing those elusive moments of beauty and perfection.

(Kudos to my fabulous best friend for being my model, for freezing for the sake of art and for running off in search of beautiful moments to capture with me.)

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