Moments.

The world is moving in slow motion today.

I've been back in my hometown for a week now, and I have almost completely recovered from the most eventful semester of my life.  Almost.  As a true nerd, I will know that my recovery has reached fruition when I actually come upon the desire to go back to school.  I'm not there yet, but I can see that day quickly approaching... even in the midst of my very real Post-Finals Week Stress Disorder (PFWSD).  

Being at home again is a little strange [and that, in itself, is a little strange because I never thought I'd say that. What's going on?].  Whenever I would go back and forth between here and my apartment during the semester, I felt as if I was switching back and forth between two completely separate realities.  The two places have very little in common outside of the fact that both are home to me now.  I never was forced to choose between them- it's as if my heart has grown to encompass all that both places have to offer.  I still feel that way; indeed, part of my heart remains in Milledgeville even while I sit here in the house where I grew up.  It's a good feeling to look forward to the day I get to go back.

Looking back at the beginning of the semester, I can hardly believe it was only four months ago.  What was life before Milledgeville?  Before living with roommates and riding a shuttle to school every day?  Before cleaning the kitchen of my own will and buying my own groceries?  Before I knew the people there?  How did I live my life without those people as my friends?  It surpasses my understanding that so much could change in 120 days.

So many memorable moments are racing around in my head as I think about my first few months at Georgia College.  Some are happy, some painful, some just funny.  All were significant, and most shaped me into who I am right now.  Here are a few:

• The moment when I realized I was on my own.  It was only a couple of hours after I had arrived at the apartment, and I was walking from my kitchen to my bedroom.  I was stunned by the fact that all I had to eat was Ramen noodles and the only way I would have something else is if I went out and bought it for myself.  Yep, that's when I knew.
• My first time at First Baptist Church, when I knew I had walked in on a group of very special people.  I was right.
• The morning that I skipped class to sleep in (don't worry, I was punished by the fact that my professor apparently brought donuts that day), then got up to turn the heater on for the first time since living there because I was freezing.  Not 30 seconds later, the smoke alarms were screaming and I was running around frantically trying to make them stop and deciding whether or not I needed to run for my life.  Apparently, this is a regular thing when you turn the heater on for the first time every year.  Now I know. 
• The moment when all the changes, stress, and fear came together in what felt an awful lot like a panic attack, and I prayed so that I could breathe.
• The first time in at least five years that I've called someone other than my mom or dad to cry.  It was one of my two roommates, who put me on speakerphone so that both could listen and talk to me and remind me that God was in control.  I won't forget that.  I'm so grateful for those two.
• My first day of classroom observation for my education class.  Since I was homeschooled from kindergarten to my high school graduation, that was my first time in a high school classroom.  I was maybe a little bit scared of mean girls. *ahem* BUT I SURVIVED
• The many moments spent laughing until I couldn't breathe, because my friend Morgan is one of the funniest people I've ever met.
• My first time playing a saxophone.  I should stick with the piano, which does not require assembly and which also does not scream at you if you play it wrong.  GOSH.
• The moment I became confident in the gifts God has given me as a musician.   

There are so many more.  It was this semester, through these moments, that I grew into who I am today.  I still have a lot to learn, and I always will.  But I am happy to say that in these four short months, I learned to have a grateful heart and enjoy the little things.  I was reminded that when I don't trust God with everything, everything falls apart.  Then I was reminded that when everything falls apart, God is still there to make it all new.  

I learned joy, grace, love... I've been made new.  I am so glad.

Behold, I am doing a new thing;

now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.

-Isaiah 43:19-

#musicmajorproblems

I think I was somewhere around eleven years old when I decided I wanted to major in music.  It just seemed the natural thing.  I loved the piano so much that it hurt, and I was good at it.  I couldn't go a day without singing, and I was good at that, too.  Bam. Music major. Done.

Well, as you all know, I changed my mind about my major more than a few times after that.  Recently, I changed it again, and I am officially a mass communications major.

I really am excited about what lies ahead in the field of mass communications.  But for one whole year, I was a music major.  Here's some of what it taught me.

• Music can make you feel a thousand different emotions at once.  If a cello solo doesn't make you cry, I really don't understand you.
• If you're not practicing, you should be.
• You can't just throw the word "classical" on any instrumental music before the twentieth century and expect not to get dirty looks from everyone in the music building.  Are you talking Renaissance? Baroque? Romantic? Symphony? Chamber music? Song without words? C'mon, people.
• Two weeks of aural skills will change the way you hear music forever.  
• Do not correct any music major concerning anything about music unless you want to get shanked.
• You thought music literature would be your easy class? Hahahahahahahahahaha
• Trust what you feel and take chances with it.  Music is art.
• Nine classes is a light load.
• Hard work does pay off.  Even five minutes of purposeful practice can make a huge difference.  Don't slack, and don't do anything halfway.  If this isn't what you love to do, don't do it.
• The most desirable superpower is perfect pitch.
• Someone will always be better than you.  Don't let that discourage you; instead, let it inspire you.
• I've heard it said, "If you love music, don't major in music."  While I don't agree, I see where this is coming from.  It's easy for music to become work.  Don't let it.  Don't forget to love it, to enjoy it.  Listen to all kinds of music.  Go to every concert you get the chance to attend.  Don't lose your passion.

It's going to be sad not to be a music major anymore, and I'm glad that I am keeping the music minor so I can keep hanging out with my musical family in the Porter lounge.  I always wanted to study abroad, but I couldn't afford it... so I'm so blessed and thankful that I got to spend a year in the land of the music majors.  Maybe I'll go back one day.

By Definition

Since registering for my first semester of college two and a half years ago, I have changed my major five times. Five.

The fifth change (Music Education to Mass Communications)  was made a couple of weeks ago during the most stressful week of the semester thus far.  Truth be told, I was a wreck.  Drowning in projects, midterms, quizzes, and the realization that it would take me until spring of 2017 to graduate with a music degree, I felt that I was one breath away from breaking.  

No matter how many times my mom told me that it didn't matter how long it would take me to graduate, I could not shake the feeling that it was not right for me to stay in school for nearly four more years for music.  I asked myself the question, "Why are you doing this?"  and the answer was this:  While it's true that I would love to teach private piano lessons and be a worship leader, neither of those roles require a degree.  I have always known that.  But oh, how much I wanted to be able to say that I was a good enough musician to get a degree in music.  Just to feed the beast- a.k.a., my pride.  I will readily admit that I often let playing music become an idol.  

Well, you know how I feel about idols.  When you see them, tear them down, rip them out, burn them to the ground, whatever it takes.  If it takes an arrow to my pride and another change of major and career path, I believe it's worth it.  It's far too easy to let an idol darken my life.

It's also too easy for me to underestimate God's plan for me.  I get it into my head that I have to be one thing- I make myself into "The girl who."  You know.  The girl who sings.  The girl who plays the piano.  The girl who makes good grades.  The girl who knows exactly what she is supposed to do.  The girl who does the right thing.  

So what happens when I hit a wrong note?  When I do poorly on a heavily-weighted midterm?  When I don't know what I want to do when I grow up?  When I make a mistake, or a hundred?  What does that make me?  The girl who fails, that's what.

That's the problem with putting your self-worth in what you can do.  It doesn't allow for a bad day.  It doesn't allow you to be human.  

This may sound crazy, but maybe- just maybe- God created each of us with more than a one-sentence definition.  Maybe we can be defined by the name He gives us, and the worth we have in Him, instead of by the labels that we place on ourselves.  Maybe He makes us more than the 160 characters that fit on our Twitter profiles.  Maybe the opinions of others have absolutely no effect whatsoever on who we are in Him.  

That's what I believe.  So yes, the truth is that I'm not the best singer or pianist or songwriter or whatever.  I don't always make good grades.  I don't know exactly what I want to do after college.  And I mess up every single day.  By the standards of this world, that might make me the girl who fails...but the standards of this world are not relevant.  

I am the daughter of the King, and by His standards, I am loved.

I am redeemed by the Savior.  I am chosen.  I have worth.  

See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. 
The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know Him. 

- 1 John 3:1 -