“Don’t Be Mad. Be Glad. It Is the Way to Be.”

Before I started the journey that would encompass my freshman year of college, I wrote a blog post. In this particular blog post, I categorized and summed up all my 17 years of life experience into one mantra: “Be prepared to be surprised.” I got this quote from a song called “To Be Surprised” by Sondre Lerche which is on the soundtrack to the (awesome) movie Dan in Real Life. (By the way, if you haven’t seen this movie, WATCH it. It’s a good one).

                Well, guys, I’m here to tell you that this mantra has not changed. This year completely enveloped me in surprises and while I would never, ever, ever do this year over, I am here to say that I am grateful for the circumstances that have happened to me. Because of them, I have never been so sure about how rapidly life changes and how we have a single choice that can change the course of our lives for the better.

                Let me explain:

                I arrived in Siloam Springs, Arkansas eager to start my freshman year. I was very excited to see what friends I would make, what adventures I would have, and how God would reveal Himself to me at this fantastic, little Christian college called John Brown University. The day my parents said goodbye to me and left home to Colorado left a little lump in my throat that, to this day, still hasn’t gone away completely. Right from the get go, I think I intuitively knew that freshman year was not going to be easy. And it wasn’t, as it usually goes for most people during their freshman year. But instead of these freshman blues going away after the first couple months or the first semester, it stayed for the whole entire year.

                I found it very difficult to make friends. I’ll admit, I am a hard person to read. I don’t try to be, I promise. I can tell that people just don’t know what to do with me which breaks my heart because I love nothing more than connecting with other people. When I meet people, I present myself one of two ways: talkative, energetic and quirky or quiet, stoic and observant. I can usually tell from the beginning what kind of people I’m going to click with and which ones I won’t, so I present myself in these two ways. Most of my friends would probably tell you I’m more talkative and quirky once you get to know me. Most of the people I went to high school with would probably agree. I am more comfortable being quirky and energetic and talkative, I swear - even if this is in small groups of people. Most of the people who got to know me a little bit at JBU will probably tell you I was quiet, stoic and observant for most, if not all, of the year.

                I understand that I am more comfortable with my friends from high school because I literally grew up with them and I understand that it’s difficult for everyone to make friends their freshman year of college. But there is a definite culture difference between Colorado and Arkansas. And I was not prepared for this. I wanted a small, Christian school to work out for me. I wanted to find my place in a great group of fellow believers and grow in my relationship with Christ. I wanted to truly know Jesus.

                (At this point, I am going to pause and let you know, that if you don’t believe in this God, I still love you and that is the truth. I have so many friends who have different views on this, and I love them dearly. But there is so much freedom in discovering how much love God has for you).

                Anyways, I found out that at JBU, many believers had gone to Christian high schools or grew up in the “bible belt” of the USA or both, and while there were some people I met who were so genuine and true in their faith, I met a lot of people who didn’t feel genuine to me. I felt like I heard the phrases, “Be intentional” and “He pursues you” and “This is a blessing” multiple times a day. And while, these are great encouragements and great truths, I felt like people weren’t exactly willing to go the extra mile to talk about the dusty stuff. I wanted someone to tell me why they didn’t talk to their dad anymore or how they struggled with drinking or the time they felt they didn’t believe in God anymore or how they struggled with pornography or the time they wanted to die. Because if some struggle like this has not hit you yet, be prepared because I can guarantee there will come a time in your life where you struggle with something, even if it is the entire concept of God and your doubts you have with believing. Not only is this a struggle, but is expected for everyone and honestly, I think this is even encouraged in your relationship with God. You should struggle with your belief. You should cry about this. God doesn’t want someone who loves Him with a lukewarm love. He wants someone who is searching for truth and wants to know Him in a more personal way. If you are doubting your belief, or if you are wondering who God is, just pray. That’s all I can say. Even if He feels far away or even if praying seems silly and awkward, pray. He wants to help you in your struggle and your search for truth. He wants to reveal to you the plans He has and the commandments He has, because He never changes despite our ever-changing society and government and world. What was truth back then is truth right now. What was sin back then is sin right now.  

                You may be thinking that I never got to this “dusty stuff” with people because I just didn’t really make any friends at JBU, so I didn’t know them well enough. Honestly, you could be right. I won’t ever know. But, these are just observations I made this past year.

                I remained hopeful for August and September and felt like my sadness would soon subside. I interviewed for Kanakuk (it’s basically an empire among Christian summer camps). I applied for mainly selfish reasons. I knew my aunt and uncle were the directors for one of the Kamps (K-West) and I knew I’d be able to get in easily. I applied for the first half of the summer mainly because my birthday is in July and I wanted to be home for that. And I basically applied because I wanted to be that “cool kid” that doesn’t come home for half the summer and is working at a sports camp. (More to come on sweet Kanakuk Kamps later).

                It was early October and I went up to Kansas City to meet up with my family from back home. It was my aunt’s wedding and honestly, I remember it being one of the few highlights of the year. The date was October 2, 2015. While this was one of the best nights of my life, it was also the beginning of the trials I went through this year. Since my senior year of high school, I had struggled in my relationship with one of my very best friends. For that time, our friendship was very up and down, but I was under the impression we were all clear by the time we went off to school in August - that even though we were seemingly going our separate ways and even though we had been through a lot together, our friendship was just as strong as it ever was. I knew something was up when he wasn’t returning my text messages and he hadn’t contacted me outside of that. He finally responded to my Facebook message the night of my aunt’s wedding. I had sent him a message apologizing for whatever harm and pain I caused him (because, believe me, all relationships are a two-way deal) and he responded and told me in his sweet, gentle way that whatever we had between us was basically over. I was crushed – completely heartbroken. I know now that I completely idealized him and relied on him for so much, but I was hoping for his guidance during my freshman year. He had already been through a year of college. He surely would have helped me with my transition.

                I haven’t heard anything from him since that October night. (But dude, if you happen to be reading this, I want to sincerely tell you how much I love you and how much you helped me during the time you chose to be in my life. I would’ve never given up on you, so I’m sure happy you chose to give up on me or else I would’ve never moved on, and God knows I deserve a guy who will want to keep me around in his life. Keep being the encouraging bright light you are. And I forgive you. “We accept the love we think we deserve,” am I right? Sending you all my love).

                The following month of November proved to be pretty challenging. While peers at JBU seemed to be finding their “friend groups,” I was basically just staying in my room and crying at some point at least every day. My sweet roommate told me she was going to be commuting from home, so I felt basically hopeless. I didn’t really have a social life outside of her and a couple other rad people. I was virtually terrified, but to the outside world and especially to my family back home, I appeared my usual, hopeful self. “I’ll find friends! It just takes a little longer for me,” I would constantly reassure myself even though the lump in my throat always stayed – and even well into second semester.

                The miracle of this year came with my incredible roommate I got for my second semester at JBU. We were both psychology majors, and her roommate ended up transferring at semester, so we lucked out and got each other to live with. In all actuality, she was my hope that was carrying me through second semester. Nevertheless, I came back to Colorado for Christmas Break and ended up crying my eyes out, begging my parents not to send me back to that school I just came from. They were sympathetic and unaware of how I was truly feeling up until that point, but I ended up making the ultimate decision to tough it out and head back to JBU.

                I want to tell you that because of the glimmers of goodness that were found in second semester, that I have made the decision to stay at JBU. John Brown University is a great school. It’s full of some of the nicest people I’ve met and the classes I took were incredible. I really felt it was the right fit for me. And it was, but just for this past year.

                After the month of January passed, I seriously considered the option of transferring. Despite the circumstantial depression I was experiencing and despite my emotional ups-and-downs (include a tear-filled talk with my mom telling her I wanted to die and my sadness that came with hearing nothing from God since I’d entered school), I half-heartedly applied to three different schools. I felt alone and desperate and scared. It was about this time where I started realizing how much I placed my worth in getting approval from guys, or honestly, just people in general. (However, this does explain my weird love life of giving and giving to guys who don’t reciprocate my feelings). This brokenness piled on top of my other brokenness and by this time, I was feeling so disconnected with everything I thought made me happy. Here’s the trick: happiness is a feeling, so while it is still relevant, it changes like crazy. But we still have that single choice that I mentioned earlier. (I promise I will get to that).

While I was starting to feel rapidly out of control with my life, I started trying to control the only thing that seemed within my control: my eating and exercise habits. I had this awkward relationship with myself where I would only eat food that people would offer me (besides lunch and dinner every weekday). There would be days where I would eat so much food. And then for three days, I wouldn’t eat. And at least every other day, I’d run at least two miles. This unhealthy restriction I had placed over this aspect of my life didn’t have to do so much with issues concerning my body image, but more insecurity with control and knowing that there was a God who actually knew what He was doing, despite my doubts. I was still aware that there was so much brokenness inside of me. I just didn’t know what to do.

I felt like my world was crashing down on me. I did not know the purpose for JBU and I did not know why God seemed to have abandoned me. Around March, I had applied for an RA position for my sophomore year at JBU. It was a very last minute application. I had been thinking about applying since September. I felt like it would be something I’d enjoy! I’m the oldest of four girls, my strengths include connecting with and including other people and I love making new friends. By the time March rolled around, my mom had to convince me to at least apply for the position (due to my overall feelings of sadness and feeling like I wasn’t good enough for anything). And then I made it to the group interviews. And the people liked what they saw so they gave me an individual interview. By this point, it was me and a few other girls. I was the only person who had applied for all the potential dorms I could be an RA for. Most of the other girls had applied for only the dorm they were living in last year. I felt hope again. I felt like I had a chance and a purpose.

The night before I found out about my RA position, I went to a prayer gathering at my school. It was in a small room in one of the dorms and I didn’t expect much out of it. Guys, if you have been reading this up to this point, take heart! This is where things start to get a little better (even if it didn’t feel like it at the time). This girl came up to me in this tiny, little room and asked if she could pray for me. I had never seen her before and haven’t seen her since that night, but I am so happy for what happened that night. She basically prayed over everything that I was struggling with. She prayed that God would clearly open certain doors and close others because she felt I was struggling with making a major decision. She prayed that I would find confidence, because even though I was struggling, I was still a connecter of people. I still strived to be an activist. While she prayed, I had this reoccurring picture of me walking to my mailbox and opening it. I had NO idea why I kept thinking about this while she prayed. I figured out soon that my image I had stuck in my mind was related to me opening my mailbox to see what I got on the letter that told me if I got an RA position or not. When I walked to my mailbox that next morning and opened the letter and checked all three dorms I applied for and saw that my name wasn’t on the list, I wasn’t as heartbroken as I thought I would be. A peace had settled over me. I know now that that’s when I made the decision to transfer. However, I didn’t tell people this, mainly because I didn’t want it to be true and I was still holding onto the hope that JBU would pull through for me. I really just wanted to find purpose in a crappy year.

As May soon approached, I got more excited and thrilled to go home and then spend the month of June in Missouri working in the kitchen at K-West. I was ecstatic when my mom picked me up. I said goodbye to maybe three people and when we drove away from Siloam Springs, I didn’t see a reason to ever go back there. I still don’t. I don’t feel connected to the school in the slightest. My roommate was the only thing tying me to the school, and I know she understands why I’m transferring. I have no doubt our friendship will strengthen with time.

I don’t want you to get the impression that it was completely 100 percent easy to leave JBU. Whenever you leave a place (whether the leaving is something you are excited about or something you are dreading), there will always be a melancholy feeling associated with goodbyes. And I definitely experienced that, even though I was only upset about leaving my sweet, optimistic, encouraging roommate. It was hard. While I drove away from Siloam, I got a quote from the book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig stuck in my head: “It’s going to get better now. You can sort of tell these things.” These are the last lines of this book I read going into my junior year of high school, but I think it’s important I put the whole last paragraph here. While I never particularly enjoyed the book itself, I’m forever thankful for this line appearing in my head precisely when I needed it: “Trials never end, of course. Unhappiness and misfortune are bound to occur as long as people live, but there is a feeling now, that was not here before, and is not just on the surface of things, but penetrates all the way through: We’ve won it. It’s going to get better now. You can sort of tell these things.”

I came back home, still knowing how much I put my worth into what other people thought about me and doing nothing about it. I came back home from JBU more broken than ever. I came back home with news that my sweet dog Moses had passed away and that broke my heart even more. I had my sweet puppy since I was seven years old and at this point in my life, I started developing an attitude of, “Well, I wonder what bad thing will happen next.” I’m sure that if you’re still reading this, you probably think that this year was bad event after bad event for me – which it was. I don’t actually remember experiencing happiness more than a couple times this past year in Arkansas. But guys, hold on. This is where it does start to get better. I promise.

It was late May. I drove down to Denver to meet up with a couple other girls who were headed out to work at Kanakuk in Missouri. I was actually excited about this adventure, but also dreading starting over again. I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t want to be thrown into this “Bible Belt”, Christian-ese culture again. But within the first half hour of our road trip out to Missouri, I knew there was going to be something different about my time at K-West. We talked about how Southern culture is very different from Western culture and generally just our different experiences we’ve been through. I’ll admit, I was still presenting myself how I learned to present myself at JBU- closed off, quiet and observant.

We spent the night in Abilene, Kansas in the house of a girl that one of the girls I was driving with knew from Kamp the previous year (sorry, that was confusing. Wow). The family was so super sweet and so generous. I already felt my attitude about life changing within this first day of the adventure that was Kanakuk. When we woke up the next morning, we ate breakfast and got ready to go. And while we were standing around the kitchen talking, I noticed a piece of paper on the fridge that said, “Don’t be mad. Be glad. It is the way to be.” This writing looked like the choppy handwriting of a child and I thought about the simplicity of it. “Be glad. It is the way to be.” And that was the beginning of how God changed me for the better and how, instead of believing in some religion I had heard my whole entire life, I chose to actually have a real-life relationship with this God I had heard so much about. Who was He? What was His character like? What were the plans He had for my life? Why did He bring me to JBU?

It wasn’t just an “aha” moment. I struggled through the month of June when I arrived at Kanakuk, but I also experienced a happiness that I was missing. I got over a lot of fears. I met a lot of dear friends that talked with me while we were cleaning out the drains in the sinks in the kitchen or while sitting on a picnic table by the lake. I got to have devotionals every night with a cabin of middle school girls. I got to see them grow. I got to have random dance parties to Mat Kearney or “Can’t Stop the Feeling” by Justin Timberlake or The Oh Hellos. I grew immensely in one month – more than I ever did at JBU. The talks I had with peers were the talks I craved all year. We talked about the “dusty stuff”. We cried. We laughed. We danced. We grew. I can’t really explain how I felt more at home at Kanakuk than I ever did at JBU, among college athletes and fraternity boys and sorority girls and middle schoolers because those were the last people I expected to feel comfortable with. But I did, and that made all the difference. That little lump in my throat that I had carried with me all year, went away.

I want to talk about all the wildly cool ways God showed up in my life during the month of June, but I’m afraid that I’d be writing something like a ten page essay on that. (But if you want to learn more about the specific and intricate ways He works, hit me up. I’d love to tell you). Within the first week of arriving at Kamp, my phone died. Like, it literally wouldn’t work. At the moment, I was frustrated – adding this to my list of “bad things this year gave me”. In retrospect, it was a true blessing not having my phone for about a month. During this time, I had made the decision to 100 percent transfer out of John Brown University. This is how I thought of it: I was obviously at a fork in the road. I could go back to John Brown University or I could transfer to who knows where and hope for the best. I chose the latter. I realized I had more hope with not actually knowing what I’m supposed to be doing with my life as opposed to heading back to JBU. And where there is hope, there is life.

I will pause here and say that John Brown University is a great school and I would recommend it to anyone. The truth is that it just didn’t work for me, but I am only one person. (If you want more information on the school itself or more specifics on why I chose to transfer, hit me up. I’d love to tell you).

Now, let me tell you about timing. In the song “Moving On” by Mat Kearney, Mr. Kearney sings, “Funny how time is the great revelation”. And this is true. Time does heal a person. And it also reveals the coolest things to a person. I worked with a girl this summer who had a very similar freshman year experience to mine, and decided to transfer her freshman year to a place that was closer to home in Colorado. She said it was the best decision she ever made and even though it was hard to see purpose in her freshman year, she realized how much God showed her her own struggle with pride and control during that time and I realized something: I had sought out to change lives at JBU, when really what I needed was to find the community that would help change my life. I was so caught up in my own pride and control issues that I was blinded to the fact that I was broken and in need of a Savior. I couldn’t save myself and I couldn’t be any other person’s savior. I can’t save myself and I cannot be any other person’s savior. Even more so, I was looking for other people to save me as well, when really, they are incapable of doing that, no matter how much they try. I realized I needed to move back closer to home. I realized how cool it was that God took my sinful reasons for signing up for Kanakuk, like wanting to work first half merely because of my birthday, and made that into something beautiful. When I applied for Kanakuk in September, I had no idea I’d be transferring schools. But working at Kamp first half of the summer gave me peace in knowing I had time to come back for the last half of summer and figure my life out for the fall semester of 2016. I had no idea it’d play out that way. Call it good intuitive planning. Call it fate. Call it the “universe looking out for me”, but I know it was God. Even to the last little details in time, God was there. Even when I was heartbroken to leave Kamp a day early because the girl I was riding up to Kansas City with got sick and we both had to leave, worked out for my good. I got sick the very next day and was in bed all day dizzy and nauseous. But I was in bed in my grandparents’ huge house in Olathe. I wasn’t in a stuffy room with sick middle school kids.

I flew home the next day. My sickness had subsided within 24 hours and I was ready to return home to Colorado. There are few things I enjoy more than flying by myself and knowing that there was hope in this unknown I was literally flying in to, gave me life. I arrived home and within the first two weeks, my mom got diagnosed with breast cancer.

I know what you’re probably thinking. You may be thinking, “Wow, yeah, Hannah, your year was actual crap.” or “Oh, Lord, what next?” or “That sounds like a sucky first year of adulthood.” or maybe even, “It’s not as bad as some of the stuff I’ve gone through.” or “Hannah, you actually have it pretty good.” All these thoughts are relevant and great and please keep them. It was a sucky first year of adulthood, but in the scheme of things I do have it pretty good. Because I made that choice that has made all the difference. People tell me, “Hannah, do whatever makes you happy,” but whenever I hear that I get an uneasy feeling in my stomach and I could never quite put my finger on it until this summer. But now I know better. Happiness is a feeling and feelings are fleeting. I am not saying they’re stupid at all. They’re totally relevant. I, myself, am a very emotional person. I have a love/hate relationship with my emotions, and even if I’m not good at expressing my emotions in facial expressions or words, I can guarantee you that whatever you’re saying to me is making my insides turn into an emotional rollercoaster, whether that rollercoaster is sending me up into the clouds or down into the pits of the Earth. But, nevertheless, happiness is a feeling, so if I acted out of happiness, I could end up making the wrong choice.

But God helps us be able to choose joy.

Through God, I have been able to understand my worth. Let me explain this: Your worth is not determined by someone else’s inability to see your worth. Your worth is not determined by someone else’s inability to see your worth. Your worth is not determined by someone else’s inability to see your worth. You are a precious human being and you have been hurt and you have hurt others. I am a precious human being and I have been hurt in many ways and I have definitely hurt others and I will continue to do so, no matter how much I try not to. So, your best friend stopped talking to you. So what? So, your boyfriend cheated on you. So what? So, you didn’t get invited to that party. So what? So, people are rude to you. So what? You must continue to shine and you must continue to be a light to this dark world and you must continue to choose joy. Because you are beautiful and broken and loved more than you can ever know!!!!!!!!

I am beautiful and broken and loved more than I can ever imagine, by this guy named Jesus who actually died knowing I’d say that nasty thing to my mom and I’d idealize my best friend and make him some kind of dysfunctional savior and not trust God Himself enough to realize He was with me all along. Here’s the thing: you don’t have to believe in God or Jesus or the Holy Spirit. That’s a choice and you can choose not to. I know there are a lot of Christians who are nasty and I know there are a lot of atheists who are nasty and I know there are a lot of people, in general, who are nasty, but we were not called to live a life of fear and judgment. We were called to live a life of love and peace. But, this is the reality: We will never know peace on this Earth. But we can continue to search for truth. You may be thinking, “Well what is truth?” or “Everyone has their own versions of truth.” But I am here to tell you that there is an absolute truth and we are all seeking it. Aristotle said, “To say of what is that it is not, or of what is not that it is, is false, while to say of what is that it is, and of what is not that it is not, is true.” This comes down to the point that if we say, “There are no absolute truths,” that the statement itself is an absolute truth statement. So someone must be right. And this is why wars are fought and people place their worth in other humans and people wonder why their loved ones die. We are all searching for the truth.

But hope is never lost and will never be lost. And we must continue to choose joy for as long as we live, in hopes that we are able to show them this bright light that we have found. I no longer feel like I need to have a boyfriend or another follower on Instagram (social media is kind of overrated anyways) or to not eat for three days or to try to impress my best friend so he’ll like me back in the way I liked him once upon a time.

I have hope that even through my mom’s diagnosis, there is a silver lining. That silver lining is Jesus Christ who I can feel when I listen to Mat Kearney or watch the sunrise or see the ocean. I know that one day I will get to Heaven and maybe I’ll sit in a beach house and watch the waves while having a nice talk with my best friend over chai. We could maybe even listen to “Rochester” by Mat Kearney. But I am here now. And I am welcoming reality with open arms. A peace has settled in my heart about my mom’s cancer. I have no doubt in my mind that she will heal and she’ll be staying on this Earth for a long time. I know she’ll be there at my wedding. I just don’t have fear anymore. She is so loved. You are so loved. I am so loved.

When I wanted to write this, I wanted to be “put together.” I wanted to know what I was doing next semester and I wanted to finally get baptized (never have been!) and I wanted to sound super mature and capable. But the reality is, I’m not. And I actually have learned to love reality. There’s an 85% chance I’ll be staying in Colorado for school and I’m planning on getting baptized in a lake up in Rocky Mountain National Park sometime before September. And I’m so stoked. But, guys, I still mess up. I still snap at my mom. I still let my emotions get the best of me. I still say the occasional nasty thing about someone. I am not perfect and I don’t have to be. I have broken so many people’s hearts and cut off so many relationships and I am so sad that I have done that. There is no way I will be ever be able to get back what I once had. And even though I am so sorry to any of you that I have hurt, I do want to let you know that I have moved on - that I won’t be tied to my stormy past any longer and starting tomorrow, in a week, in an hour, or right now, you don’t have to be either. You can choose to be brand new. You can choose to not look at the bad situations you’re in, but instead focus on the beauty that surrounds you each and every day. You can choose joy. You can choose God. Even though Mat Kearney said time was the great revelation, he also mentions a lot of other really great things in his song “Moving On”: “Because I’m moving on, letting go, forget the past and giving up the ghost. All we are is fading stars – life’s too short to stay where we are. Forgive, then live and move on. Tell me that you’re gonna make me stronger.” (I love that man). Because the reality is that our mistakes make us stronger as long as we choose to learn from them – as long as we see the silver lining, as long as we see joy.

So, yeah.

I found God dancing to Justin Timberlake with middle schoolers in a gym in the backwoods of Missouri.

I found God while drinking a crappy cup of coffee with my friend in Greeley, CO as we listened to Death Cab for Cutie in her car.

I found God when I got front row at a Mumford & Sons concert and listened to Marcus Mumford sing his heart out during “Believe” and realized how much I related to that song.

I found God when I cried in a room that wasn’t even mine when I found out my dog died.

I found God when my roommate told me her old roommate was leaving, too and I realized I would have another roommate and I wouldn’t be all alone.

I found God during a plane ride.

I found God at a QuikTrip in Kansas City with my friend and my cousin during Thanksgiving Break.

I found God on a rooftop in Boulder with a boy I’d only known three days and my friend who just came home from New Zealand.

I found God at my aunt’s wedding.

I even found God when I was sitting by a river by JBU crying my eyes out and wanting to die. I don’t want to associate Him with the bad situation I was in, but I look back and realize there was so much hope. He was with me all along. He knew I wouldn’t get the RA position because He knew I wouldn’t be staying at that school. He knew I’d work first half of the summer at Kanakuk because He knew my mom would get diagnosed with cancer in July. He knew where He was leading me and He knew there was purpose this past year. I know this now. I’ve learned a lot, guys. All I can say is be prepared to be surprised.

And despite my circumstances and despite my feelings of sadness and restlessness and happiness and despite not knowing what I’m doing next year, I am choosing joy.

I hope you make that choice, too.