Thank You, Next

Laughing at how funny we are

Cory and i

Facetime with Nat 🙂

Violet, Ruby and I

That jacket though

Yeah…

Bowling and being awkward

Cheese balls!

Ummm

Facetime with the big sis

Capitol Tour with the fam

Speaking on a panel in Moscow, Russia

Blue lights. Enough said.

Fries and Ranch with Liv

“I find it interesting that this has been one of the best years of my career and the worst of my life,” Grande said. “A lot of people would look at someone in my position right now as an artist that could be at her peak and think, ‘She’s really got her sh** together, she’s really on it. She’s got it all.’ And I do, but as far as my personal life goes, I really have no idea what[…]I’m doing[…]and as of late I’ve discovered that it’s the things I’ve always had and the people I’ve always had that still make me the happiest.”

A year ago, I graduated from college. I got a new job. I moved almost a thousand miles away. I learned how to be an adult. I experienced so much love counteracted by heartbreak, grief and loneliness. I went to a foreign country for the first time. I planned a global conference. I’ve helped different families in minor or significant ways in over 80 different countries.

It’s been a crazy year.

In the midst of all those changes and challenges were a lot of tears. I learned a lot about me, and yet still know nothing at all.

Tears fell as I sat in my room a couple nights before my graduation as I stared at the cap and gown waiting to be worn across a platform to accept my degree.

Tears were shed on the interstate from Iowa to Virginia in my car full of all my belongings.

Tears spilled in the hall as the background echoed cheers at the close of the last session in Moscow, Russia.

Tears fell on a plane bound home to Iowa for a couple of weeks – a girl who once believed that heartbreak was purely metaphorical, found out it was actually quite physical and yet could only be healed by time and patience.

2018 showed me I am a constant work in progress, but aren’t we all?

Most importantly – I have learned to forgive. I learned to forgive others, myself and to accept the forgiveness Christ so freely offers me.

I have learned so much this year about love and forgiveness through my broken experiences. As Matt Heard said “The worst kind of pain is wasted pain”. So will I use my brokenness to push me into the next stage of life and grow me spiritually, mentally and emotionally and make me wiser? Or will I waste the pain and have it hinder my growth? Will it harden or strengthen my heart? Can I trust God to redeem my pain?

I settle my heart down and let the pain in. I will cast all my anxieties upon Him because He cares for me. He will lead me beside the still waters. He will restore my soul. He will lead me down a path of righteousness, but also a path of joy and peace.

Psalms 34:18 says:

“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit”

This year taught me love, patience and pain, but it also taught me how to understand and sympathize, it taught what it truly means to be selfless, but it also taught me how important it is to take care of myself – to take my God-sized needs to Christ, that in order to be a source of life, I need to have Jesus be my source of life first.

On the days that I couldn’t get out of bed, something so simple my sister said has stuck with me since “sometimes you have to do what is good for you, not what you want to do”.

I repeat these words on the many days I don’t want to work out. On the days I don’t want to leave my bed. On the days that I don’t want to eat a certain way. On the Sundays when I don’t feel like going to church. When I fall into my hermit-like tendencies. When praying is hard. When reading my Bible is about as unappealing as carrots (I greatly dislike carrots by the way).

In more ways than one I see how God interwove that theme into my life this year. Jesus saying “Sometimes I have to do what is good for you, not what you want me to.”

As Jeremiah 29:11 says:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

So thank you 2018; for all that you offered and took away; for all the people that came and went – and most importantly, to those I’ve always had and will never leave. 2018 made me realize that the people I have always had – are the ones that make me the happiest still and you can see some of them pictured above. I love these people. So much.

2019 is whispering on the threshold “it will be happier” as Tennyson says but I think I like T.S. Eliot’s quote better:

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.”

So thank you 2018.

Thank you, next.

Home Isn’t A Place

Touching down in the middle of a corn field is kind of peculiar sight, but if your in Iowa…it’s normal.

Home. I felt my heart ease into a strange rhythm of familiarity. So strange how easy it is go back to “normal” after being away for so many months and literally having been out of the country and back.

Home isn’t a place, it’s where your heart is tide too. My family. My friends. They are pieces of my heart running around. Now that my two best friends no longer live in Iowa, it’s more sad to go back, but my family is still there.

Iowa is just full of corn, but if you lived here your entire life you would find more to do than just starring at a cornfield across the road from your house. People who ask me what ones does in Iowa; I wouldn’t know. If your used to being bored, you find ways to entertain yourself.

My friends and I jokingly dubbed ourselves the Queens of our small town…little did we know that a year later, neither of us would be around to reign over our metaphorical subjects.

As heartbreaking as it may seem…there is a happiness about it. A happiness that we can say later on in life as we all have careers and six digit salaries “remember when we all were poor and worked at the Cheese House together that entire summer?” or “Remember the late night runs to Village Inn?” and all the other crazy road trips and laughing until we couldn’t breathe.

I miss those days.

I don’t want to relive my life though. It would be nice to stop in once in a while. It would be nice to meet up at the corner near my house to drive into the city. It would be nice to get up early for church and eat at our favorite diner. It would be nice some days to hear Dad shuffling around upstairs on a Saturday morning. It would be nice to always find someone to hug in the house, especially Mom.

Those were the days.

But these are the days now.

Sitting in my office, I’ll suddenly have this out of body experience of wondering “Why am I here? Where do I belong?”

Thinking back on the last 10 years of my life. Back when I was 13 and constantly feeling a push to go forward. Now I just want to step back.

All of a sudden all the things I have accomplished and gone through in life will melt into these series of flashbacks. As epic as it sounds…

It makes me sad, nostalgic and lonely.

Lonely for the people who were there along the way; sad at the goodbyes to the people who came and went so suddenly, and then missing the ones that are still by my side though they are a thousand miles away.

Home isn’t a place…and yet it’s a place we are constantly longing for.

But until we get to Heaven, the longing will never cease. Can you imagine, being in a room full of faces you love and cherish? We get a taste of that every once in a while, but it brings tears to my eyes when I think how Heaven will never have loneliness, heartbreak or regrets. It will be full of those people who pointed you to Christ with how they loved you.

We see in a mirror dimly now, but when we get to Heaven, we will be fully known. We will see Christ face to face. That separation will no longer pine at us.

But today I will sit in my office and go through the motions of today, and constantly seek to do what God is calling me to be. Though my questions will sometimes raise to “why am I here? What am I doing?”, God has this amazing story for my life, and though I can only see through it dimly, and sometimes not at all when it is darkened with my confusion, grief and loneliness; I’ll trust His plans are far better than my own.

The Two Decade Roommate.

Now a month ago, I got rid of my acrylic paints and brushes that I had bought the same day I had taken out my first car loan. It was on a whim and I was 17 years old. I had high hopes of becoming an artist but lacked the talent, so alas! After almost 4 years of being cooped up in a box with my “stamp” collection (another failed attempt of me being “crafty”), I decided to say goodbye and blessed my Mom with a present of old textbooks, paints and brushes.

I’ve been feeling slightly sentimental of late, which is probably what has been stopping me from getting rid of more stuff that I have stowed away in boxes. All my old class notes, writings of mine (and Hope’s that I found on the wayside, meant for the trash can), and other sentimentalities, like a piece of a cracker jacks box and a rusty old penny, I keep hidden away. Sometimes I hate my memories and try desperately to forget something or some person existed, but I hold on for dear life to the insignificant and happy.

But then comes goodbye.

My roommate of 20 years is moving out. I caught myself looking forlornly across the room at her socks scattered on the floor and her messed up bed and chided myself.

She’s only moving how many minutes away.

I’m both happy and sad. Sad for me, happy for her. Happy for more space but scared to be alone. She’s my big sister, my best friend despite all that we have been through. I love her to pieces, and now goodbye is coming.

At times it felt like we would be stuck together forever. Now, no more fighting over who has to clean the bathroom. No more hounding you to clean up your side of the room and for heaven’s sake, throw your dirty socks in the laundry. No more spitefully dusting my half of the dresser and leaving your side untouched. No more inconsiderate moaning as I come in late from work or from a long night of studying. No more late night talks about life before we fall asleep. I remember when we were little and all the ridiculous bedtimes stories you would tell me. We would laugh and laugh….but somewhere down the road we stopped being so silly. Even though we still have our good times. Somewhere between graduation and college, we found different interests, jobs and friends. We wanted to stop living in each others shadows, I guess. Which is understandable, but still hard nonetheless. I remember how many times I thought I had been replaced as we grew up. It seemed at times that you were always too far gone for me to reach, that you never wanted to hang out with me because I was just your little sister. You would then go find other “sisters” who were the same age as me, yet somehow more mature in your eyes. I have to admit, at times I would be jealous…and cared way too much about what you were doing. But then one point came when I stopped living in comparison and stopped being jealous. I decided to be me, and let you be you.

But that just grew a wider gap between us.

But we always shared a room.

I could always count on you being there at the end of the day. We didn’t even have to talk or say one word to each other. There was just comfort in knowing that we couldn’t be entirely apart because our beds were only a few feet from each other.

But now there is nothing to keep us from growing apart. Now there will be more space for us both to stretch…but somehow I can’t quite picture room without you in it. How will it feel to come home and you not being there? I probably won’t notice at first. After all, we have gone a couple weeks apart. But after a month, and then the next…it will probably dawn on me that you really aren’t going to be my forever roommate, but that we will really did have a time limit and now I’m all alone with more space to put my things, but my heart will be overcrowded with lonesomeness.

Ah, look at me getting all sappy. It’s not like your moving a million miles away. Geez. Pull yourself together Trudi.

I’ll miss you Hope. I hope we grow closer and our sisterly love will only grow stronger. I just want you to know, contrary to your opinion, that I am impressed by you. I am so blessed to have you as my older sister. You may not like the first born status, but you’ve made my life easier by being so. You’ve showed me the ropes of college. You went through all the firsts and paved a path that I sometimes chose to follow. Heehee. Even a few week you helped me find dress pants for my internship (what can I say, the only pants I have are in scrub form). I love it that you’re my older sister and my friend. You don’t know how highly I think of you, and often you think of me as judging you, but that’s only because I have these unrealistic high expectations of you that I shouldn’t have I guess. But I’m always going to expect the best of you, because you are the best.

Hope…just know that I’m always here. I’m always praying for you. I’m always loving you. I’m always wishing the best for you. I’m always happy for you in all your accomplishments.

So now your side of the closet is getting empty. Your books are packed away. I’ll act all tough, but you may get a wailing phone call a couple nights later.

Remember your first roommate and how awesome she was. Because she sure is going to miss you.

Love you Hopie.

Your little sister (and best friend forever…literally, forever. FOR.EV.ER.)

Maybe, It’s Me.

My mind keeps wondering so many places, that I can’t concentrate.

Sometimes I feel so in control, like everything is in my hands and I know exactly where I can place everything and then suddenly everything just falls to the floor, and I’m forced to pick up the pieces again.

My heart just wants to wonder everywhere…and it feels like it’s caught on something. No matter how hard I yank and pull, I can never be completely free.

And maybe that’s my problem.

I keep thinking about wiping the dirt of this crummy old town off my feet, that I forget that I can’t wipe away who I am deep down.

I can’t wipe away all my insecurities and doubts; I can’t pass the blame onto everyone and everything else.

I can run, but I can’t hide away from myself.

If I’m so dissatisfied with my life, maybe it’s not the scenery or the major or the friends or enemies that I need to change or runaway from…maybe it’s me.

I don’t like the scene I’m living in, but that’s just the now, not forever.

I’ve changed my college major so many times I’ve lost count, and I’ve found that each one holds it’s own set of doubts. I’m not afraid of trying; I’m afraid of the aftermath of failing.

I’ve disassociated myself from certain people but I’ve found that they weren’t the root of my unhappiness. Granted, some of these people are better off not being in my life, but if I can’t forgive, then that is another form of my own unhappiness.

I could blame my unhappiness on lack of relationships and the age old saying that “nobody cares about little old me”.

But I’m the one who makes my bed and has to lie in it each night.

It’s like blaming the sky for bringing rain and soaking me wet, but when it boils down to it, I’m the one who didn’t bring an umbrella.

At the beginning of this year, I said the only person I can change is myself.

This is how I feel about life right now, I’m so busy fighting off the weeds in my garden, that I don’t even notice the flowers in my life.

And that’s sad.

Because the entire point I made about last year is that I spent too much time picking weeds and trying to be more “successful”, that I forgot to have any moments. I didn’t stop and smell the roses is what I’m trying to say.

And I’m tired of the circle I keep going round-n-round in.

It’s like, I’m picking this weed and that weed and I’m going to get through college, and I’m going to move out and I’m going to get an amazing job and explore the world and oh, then I’ll be satisfied and happy with my life.

And that’s not how life should be.

Clearly, satisfaction doesn’t exist. The world has made success so distorted that we don’t even know when to be satisfied or if we should be.

Happiness is like candy, you eat it and then it’s gone.

So I’m just going to enjoy life. I’m going to sing at the top of my lungs to the radio while sitting at stop lights, maybe I’ll roll the windows down. Because who cares what people think.

I’m going to finish college, but I’m going to enjoy it while it’s here.

I’m going to live at home with my parents, and yeah, that sounds so completely uncool, but life is just like that right now. It’s not always going to be this way. So I’m going to enjoy the evenings I spend talking to my parents about my day and hearing about theirs. I’m going to enjoy how loud the house is when Ru is on the a rampage while I’m trying to study, because someday it’s going to be quiet, and I know I’m going to miss it.

It’s not complete satisfaction, because the kind I’m searching for doesn’t exist until I get to Heaven, but it’s a content kind of satisfaction none the less; to have a family that is there when you get home, who heats up the leftovers for you when you’ve worked on Christmas Eve, and who will always have a light on for you no matter how far you’ve gone or how long you stayed away.

~ Tru

Goodbye Seventeen.

Whenever my birthday was about to roll around the corner when I was young, I would start planning months ahead of time and my birthday list would be a mile long.
Not anymore. Its kind of sad really. Birthdays just aren’t as exciting as they used to be…and I know the reason is all because of me. Yes, I’m the culprit. I woke up this morning and it just felt like another day. I went to school, I came home, I did my homework. We did the usual rituals of blowing out the candles, singing happy birthday, opening presents and then it was over. Done.

But, as I was sitting down to blow out my eighteen candles and my family was singing really off key, I began to realize something. I don’t know if I was just too giddy about opening presents all these years and not paying attention, but I’m loved so-so-so much. Yes, I already knew that, but every year my family has taken the time to make my birthday special. They spoil me and treat me like a princess every single year, and as we were all sitting down together eating supper, I felt content, happy, and safe. God gave me the family I needed…and they are the only family I’ll ever want.

Tomorrow it will probably hit me. I’ll probably think about how old I am getting and how I’ll never be seventeen again and that every minute that goes by I’m only getting older. That’s just me. But right now, I’m happy.