Judy Grimes.

Besides anything Will Ferrell participated in on Saturday Night Live, this broadcast by travel writer Judy Grimes is by far my favorite skit on the popular improv show.

George MacDonald.

In middle school, my fellow students and I had to collect a collaboration of poems and analyze them. As a teenager who loved reading and writing, this assignment was a perfect challenge for me. Interpreting poetry is so different from studying literature because it forces us to stretch our minds and comprehend concepts in a different light. Recently, as I was cleaning out my closet, I found the poems I had chosen to study. This one by George MacDonald struck me because the last line is so hopeful and powerful.

:: Sometimes a thunderbolt will shoot from a clear sky; and sometimes, into the midst of a peaceful family - without warning of gathered storm above or slightest tremble of earthquake beneath - will fall a terrible fact, and from that moment everything is changed. The air is thick with cloud, and cannot weep itself clear.

There may come a gorgeous sunset, though. ::

Children's Art Village.

For this post, I just wanted to share a documentary that Patrick Cone (of C1 Productions) made while we were in Ghana in August. It is fantastic and makes me want to return to the Village of Hope tomorrow.

Under the Bridge.

For work, I have to read Anthony Kiedis's autobiography, Scar Tissue. Kiedis is the lead singer for the Red Hot Chili Peppers and his life is insane, to put it mildly. His troubles started in his youth. His father wasn't much of a role model when Anthony was young; rather, he was his own personal drug dealer. Kiedis's life was full of drugs, sex and incessant partying. But at the core, what really held him together, was the power of music. Creating music was what saved Kiedis's life. Because of his dedication to his band, he eventually went to rehab to pull himself together.

There was a point in time when Kiedis (who was notorious for showing up to rehearsals and performances drunk and high) was the only one in the band who was sober. He felt like a buzzkill when around his fellow bandmates, and he began to experience intense feelings of loneliness. Those emotions, coupled with his regret for many of his mistakes made in the past, caused him to find solace in the city of Los Angeles.

On page 265, Kiedis writes: "...I also felt an unspoken bond between me and my city. I'd spent so much time wandering the streets of L.A. and hiking through the Hollywood Hills that I sensed there was a nonhuman entity, maybe the spirit of hills and the city, who had me in her sights and was looking after me. Even if I was a loner in my own band, at least I still felt the presence of the city I lived in."

Obviously, Kiedis and I had different childhoods and upbringings but his sentiments go to show that everyone experiences loneliness at one point or another, regardless of how much success surrounds them. It was so interesting to have stumbled across this passage after I had just written that entry about community and loneliness last night.

After writing about how he felt comforted by L.A., Kiedis wrote a poem that eventually turned into the hit song, "Under the Bridge." While my heart can't resonate with the drug-related lyrics in this song, there are some things that I can personally understand, especially about how a city can sometimes take on human-like characteristics to make you feel a little less alone:

:: sometimes i feel like i don't have a partner
sometimes i feel like my only friend
is the city i live in, the city of angels
lonely as i am, together we cry.

i drive on her streets 'cause she's my companion
i walk through her hills 'cause she knows who i am
she sees my good deeds and she kisses me windy
i never worry, now that is a lie.

i don't ever want to feel like i did that day
take me to the place i love, take me all the way
it's hard to believe that there's nobody out there
it's hard to believe that i'm all alone
at least i have her love, the city she loves me
lonely as i am, together we cry.

i don't ever want to feel like i did that day
take me to the place i love, take me all the way. ::

Fortunately, I've never felt like "there's nobody out there," but I can relate to the emotion of feeling comforted by the surroundings that have started to feel like home.

The Necessity of Community.

For awhile after graduation, I considered moving to London. I studied abroad there twice and fell in love with the city. I could imagine myself living there and I actually still can picture myself moving there someday. I was very seriously contemplating the move, even going as far as writing down the pros and cons of the decision, contacting former internship employers and seeking advice from friends who had already moved there.

Though my list of pros was long and I'm a young, unattached woman with the world at her fingertips, my heart was telling me to stick around the U.S. for a little longer. Specifically, I felt as though things were falling into place for me to stay in California because of the community I've developed here. I have a specific attachment to southern California, especially Malibu. Moving out to the West Coast for college was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. My first semester at Pepperdine was defined by homesickness and loneliness. Though I made great friends (many of whom are still my best friends today), joined a sorority, plugged into a church and was accepted into an overseas program, I was constantly missing my family and my life in Wheaton. I knew there was a reason that I was 3,000 miles from home but I couldn't recall what it was.

Something changed when I got back from Christmas break and thoughts of transferring to Northwestern University (a mere 40 miles from Wheaton) disappeared. The only explanation for that peace was God. There really was nothing in my daily life that had changed; rather, I just felt like being at Pepperdine was right. After that, I never looked back. I fell in love with Malibu and my Pepperdine experience and I truly never wanted to leave.

Fast forward four years. Leaving Malibu was not something I wanted to do. So I didn't. I spent an amazing transitionary summer, living with four amazing women in a hilarious trailer park (not your typical trailer park...some of those things cost hundreds of thousands of dollars) overlooking the beach. It was the perfect balance for me because I didn't have to leave Malibu right away but I wasn't surrounded by my best friends anymore. I still had a community of friends that I'd met at Pepperdine but I was slowly learning how to cope without my favorites surrounding me on a daily basis.

Enter my move to Santa Monica. In July, I made a commitment to live with two incredible friends in an apartment on Colorado Avenue. I was so excited to move and we found a fantastic place, conveniently located five floors above a Starbucks. I was so happy to be moving into a "grown-up" space. I went to Ghana and came back to the excitement of moving in. I was on a high from my trip and my excitement was boosted by the busyness I encountered when trying to complete all of my moving tasks while back in Santa Monica.

And then reality set in. The reality that I was still fervently searching for a job, that my roommates were busy with their own jobs and graduate school, that the rest of my friends had graduated and moved away or were also working and that my friends still at Pepperdine had started classes and had resumed their lives on campus. And suddenly I felt very alone.

I had heard that many young adults my age were experiencing the same emotions as me but I couldn't believe it. Surely those friends of mine who had moved to different cities or who had already found jobs or who were getting engaged were not struggling with the same feelings as me. Surely they were happy and normal and fine. Surely I was the only one feeling that way.

It wasn't until I could be honest and vulnerable with others that I realized that while peoples' lives may look fabulous and peaceful on paper, that doesn't mean that they actually are. Everyone my age seems to be going through some sort of identity crisis, whether it's that they're struggling with a relationship, the difficulty of a new job or adjusting to a new hometown. I realized that I was really beating myself up emotionally. I constantly berated myself for not realizing how blessed I am. I have loving parents who are devoted to supporting me, roommates who care so much for me, a beautiful apartment to reside in, job opportunities that are on the brink of resulting in something great and a town that I am free to explore whenever I please. I looked at those things and got mad at myself for feeling lonely; I felt that I was being ungrateful for the gifts God had given me.

A wiser, older friend set me straight, though, telling me that it's okay to feel. Just because things appear perfect from the outside doesn't mean that they're great on the inside. Rather, we need to surround ourselves with people who lift our spirits when we can't do it ourselves. While I always knew that community was important, I didn't really get it until I experienced these new feelings of loneliness. Technology has thankfully made my world smaller, allowing me to keep in touch with those who aren't my neighbors or roommates anymore. God has placed a variety of people in my life here in Santa Monica, ranging from my best friends in the world to acquaintences I'd made at Pepperdine who can and may become treasured friends. He's allowed for random lunch dates, random phone calls and random run-ins that have boosted my morale. He's provided me with two mentors who aid me in the job search and one mentor who allows me to vent and who guides me emotionally. He's shown that He can appear to us in humanly form when we need comfort and community the most. He gives us friendships and relationships when He knows our hearts are aching from the pain of loneliness.

And sometimes He doesn't because He's asking us to cleave our hearts to His. In the silence, loneliness and pain, He wants us to turn to Him. He'll provide community to boost us at our lowest points and He'll remove it when He's asking us to take a leap of faith and trust in Him.

I am so thankful for my family and friends. I'm not sure where I would be right now without them. God has truly allowed so many new relationships to blossom in order to show His love and affection for me. Though He's had those times with me, where He's removed my community so I must seek Him out, God's showing compassion in this wild time by opening new doors for friendships and relationships for me. People I never thought I'd grow close to have shown interest in me and have pursued friendships with me. People I've always counted on have continuously shown their unconditional love for me, proving that God gave me those friendships for a reason.

I hope the people in my life know what they mean to me. I would most likely cease to exist without the community God's provided for me. This transition in life is wacky but God has used the people I've met, known and loved to allow me to rest assured that it's all gonna be all right.

Ghana.

There is so much to say about my amazing service trip to Ghana. I can't sum it up into words properly so instead of trying, I'll just share one of my journal entries to give a bit of insight about my time in Africa. It's from Wednesday, August 20:

"I think my life changed a little bit today. I got to spend all afternoon and almost the entire evening with Pam and I am just so inspired by her story. She is just so logical and level-headed yet so ambitious, spontaneous and brave. She is amazingly strong (like Mom--they remind me of each other in a lot of ways) and amazingly fun. Pam motivates me to be my best self. I want to be more giving, more selfless and more ambitious because of her.

Randy, Rachael and Patrick came back from Kete-Kratchi, where the Ghanaian children (21 of whom now reside at the Village of Hope) who are child slaves live and are forced to work. The pictures Randy took were so hard to see. Especially a photograph of a 3-year-old child slave working on a fishing boat, shivering, freezing, starving and sick. It was a horrifying image; though it was terrifying, I couldn't tear my eyes away from it. It totally caused a stirring in my heart, tugging on these emotional strings I'd forgotten I had. It made me want to jump out of my seat and rescue that little boy--and 1,000 others, too.

Amongst the former child slaves at the Village of Hope are Famous (who is always mischievously smiling--I never would have known), Mark (the poster child for the rescue missions; he was the first saved off of the lake), Ezekiel and Sakora. I hate thinking of them being forced to work. I can't picture it but then I can...and when I do imagine it, I want to trade lives with them so those sweet boys never had to experience that pain and brutality. I can't wait to hug them tomorrow, to let them know how special they are.

Our impromptu trip to Accra this afternoon/evening (to shop/accompany Emily to the airport/attempt to pick up Patrick's luggage) was a blessing in so many ways. I loved spending time with Pam, Tatum, Susan, Jill, Ivy, Emily and Justice. I loved further exploring the Ghanaian culture in the market. I loved recapping the night with Mom, Susan and Chantilly. As hard and challenging as this trip has sometimes been, I am in love with it.

Only two days left. I'm going to cherish every minute."

Ecclesiastes 3:11.

Once upon a time, back when I was in college (okay, so that was only about four months ago but it feels like eons ago), I was selected to speak at Senior Chapel. I needed to deliver a lighthearted speech about graduation and the future. The speech had to possess an air of nostalgia while simultaneously serving to inspire and encourage my fellow students.

I went through a rough break up in January and Ecclesiastes 3:11 really comforted me. The verse reads: "He has made everything beautiful in its time." I was so encouraged by those words because they reminded me that life is meant to be rough sometimes; without us knowing it, God is paving the way for something more incredible than we ever could have imagined. When I began to contemplate graduating from Pepperdine, again Ecclesiastes 3:11 inspired me. While beginning to look for jobs and thinking about the "real world," Ecclesiastes 3:11 repeated in my head and supported me. So what could be better than passing on that wisdom, comfort and encouragement to my friends as we took a leap and moved past our fabulous Pepperdine experiences?

Throughout this beautiful summer, Ecclesiastes 3:11 has served as my spiritual rock. Life has been completely unpredictable but everything always works out as it should. Worrying is pointless because I am learning that God is going to give me His best when it is ready. If it's not happening yet, it's because it's not as beautiful as it should be. A perfect example is my upcoming (and by upcoming, I mean in 9 hours) trip to Ghana. I have always dreamt of serving in Africa. I applied to the new Pepperdine summer program in Uganda and was not accepted. I was admitted to the program in April but it was too late for me to financially commit to such an opportunity. I pursued another opportunity in Kenya but the door was closed. When I learned of the Ghana trip, I pledged to myself that I'd make it there. There were a number of obstacles in the way--namely, my dad's hesitation in allowing me to go, as well as the interruption it could be in my job search--but God was so faithful. He definitely made me wait, cultivating patience in my life. I'm not really great at the whole patience game but God kept telling me to be still. The idea of participating in the trip entered my mom's mind and after further contemplation, she decided to go. This was not only a huge deal for her but it sealed the deal for me as well.

So now, not only do I get to fulfill my dream of traveling to and serving in Africa, but I get to do it with my beautiful mom. What a once in a lifetime opportunity. My Pepperdine friends, Susan and Chantilly, will also be going and I am thrilled to deepen my relationships with them. Pam Cope, an amazing humanitarian who rescues child slaves, will be on the trip as well. Mai Lai, the director of The Children's Art Village, did a fantastic job planning the trip and I am so excited to get to know her better, too.

God truly proved that things will be made beautiful in His time. We can't predict the future; frankly, we shouldn't even try. Our wildest dreams will only be expanded upon if we let God do His thing. He knows what's best for us and He knows that he can do more than we could ever imagine. It's easier said than done to trust Him--believe me, I was a stress case about this Ghana trip for a long time--but it's probably the most important and worthwhile thing we could ever do. Without His guidance, I could have forced my way on a trip to Africa that, though it would have undoubtedly been life-changing, would not be as incredible or as perfectly orchestrated as my trip to Ghana surely will be.

With that said, here's the lyrics to my favorite Shane and Shane song, called "Waiting Room." This song could not fit more perfectly with the Ecclesiastes 3:11 theme. Waiting on the Lord is hard (sometimes nearly impossible for me) but it proves to be the most important way to learn that God has truly made each aspect of life beautiful in its time:

:: i will run when i cannot walk
i will sing when there is no song
i will pray when there is no prayer
i will listen when i cannot hear

sitting in the waiting room of silence
waiting for that still soft voice i know
offering my words up to the rooftop to Your heart
trusting that this closet's where You are

Lord i know if i change my mind
You will change my heart in time
Sovereign Lord this time's from You
so i sit in the waiting room of silence
cause its all about You

i will fight when i cannot feel
i will trust when You dont seem real
i will tell when i cannot speak
i will step when i cannot see

Lord i know if i change my mind
You will change my heart in time
Sovereign Lord this time's from You
so i sit in the waiting room of silence
cause its all about You ::