Walk Down the Dark, Scary Alley

   As most of you know, I was blessed with the ability to go to Venice, Florence, Assissi, and Rome, Italy over Spring Break this year. I will never, EVER be able to thank my family enough for giving me this experience and I'll never be able to thank the group that I went with enough for making it an absolutely unforgettable trip! One of my favorite memories from the week was from our first day in Venice, which was my favorite city that we visited. My friends Ali, Brevyn and I were exploring the city on our own, trying to take all of the culture in and experience that we could in the short amount of time that we had. We were wandering through the streets of the city, following the canals and staying toward the town center when I saw an alley that caught me attention. Honestly, should I have walked down the dark alley? No. Should I have listened to my friends trying to reason with me that walking down dark alleys in foreign countries is how Taken 3 is probably going to start? Yes. But did I? Of course not! I drug the other 2 members of the "three musketeers" down this alley and was amazed at what we found. We ended up in a residential area, with a small square area full of children playing soccer and mothers talking over coffee. Over the course of the trip I never felt more immersed in the culture of that beautiful country than I did in that exact moment. I saw how the locals lived, and that was a beautiful experience for me. We continued following the alley and found small shops that were obviously not as visited by tourists. We got homemade Italian desserts from a bakery that was the cutest thing I have ever seen in my entire life. I got to take this awesome picture of fruit from a market. 

The things that were found down that alley are some of my favorite memories from the entire trip, so I can definitely say that I am glad that I ventured out of my comfort zone of two-for-one t-shirts and photo-ops.

   You see, blogging for the first time is kind of a step into the unknown. I got out of my comfort zone and walked down the dark alley of making my mind public, essentially. I am absolutely overwhelmed with the texts and encouragements that I have gotten since I've made my first few posts.  I can't express my thanks enough for everyone who has reached out to me and told me that they enjoy my writing! It's nerve wracking to post my thoughts for everyone to see (and critique), to say the least! Sucking up my fears and publishing each blog is something that hasn't gotten easier for me so far, but I'm sure it will in the future! I hope to keep stepping out of my comfort zone in the coming years, because it seems like the best things in life exist outside of my small box. I know that God has big plans for me, I just have to follow Him wherever He choose to lead me. That reminds me of a line in the song Oceans by Hillsong United, "Spirit, lead me where my trust is without borders." I know that in the next four years, I will be given choices that aren't going to be easy. I know that sometimes, I'll need to walk down the dark alley because that's what in His master plan. But I also know that the end result is going to be something better than I could ever imagine for myself. So here's to dark alleys and trusting God's beautifully unknown plan.

Sink or Swim

     I remember the first time that I jumped off of a diving board. I was five or six and my parents had signed me up for swimming lessons and the final test of these lessons was to jump off of a diving board into the deep end of the pool and swim to the ladder. Well, that just had "NOPE. NUH UH." written all over it for little me. I cried and yelled and protested until the point that my swimming instructor very gracefully gave me a push (literally...) off of the diving board. It was at that point that six year old survival mode kicked in and I swam with all of the dignity that a child with a diva complex could muster after being forced to do something that she didn't want to do. After that experience, I've swam like a fish and never met a diving board that I didn't instantly become friends with.
     The more that I think about this experience, the more that I realize that it is a great metaphor for growing up as a whole. As an 18 year old staring adulthood and responsibility in the face, I realize that I am standing at the edge of the diving board, apprehensively staring into the deep end of bills and buying my own groceries and not turning all of my white clothes pink and getting out of bed before noon and somehow managing to not lose all of my personal belongings without my mom following behind me picking up my trail of misplaced sunglasses and phones and goodness knows what else. For the past thirteen years, i've been in "swimming lessons." My hand has been held as I have learned how to navigate life. My parents have taught me how to stand on my own two feet and be strong in myself. My teachers have taught me the things that I needed to know to pass the tests to get into my dream school. Some of my teachers have also taught me invaluable life lessons that will continue to travel far past the classroom, and I will never be able to thank them enough for that. I've been taught how to write checks, even though I still can't quite figure out when i'm ever going to use them (isn't everything online nowadays??? ((kidding))(((kinda))). My mother has told me the things to spend my money on and the things to resist (food is essential. Makeup is not. Laundry is essential. Buying clothes so that you don't have to do laundry is not.) I know how to take tests and how to study and people skills and how to small talk and make myself seem like a really monumental addition to society. So I guess you could say that in the shallow end of the pool of life, i'm doggy paddling along just well, thank you very much! But I am still not prepared for doing backstrokes in 8 feet of responsibility.
     I have slowly started to realize that on August 9th, I will move away from all of the people who are holding my hand and they will push me off of the diving board. I'm sure there will be tears and knowing my flair for the dramatic probably some kicking and screaming (because I still have that six year old diva complex). Just like in swimming lessons, my "instructors" will be there to jump in the pool if I forget how to swim, but they have faith that I will make it to the ladder (or in this case, college graduation and managing to get an adult job). I've learned how to not let myself be ran over. I've learned to never, ever compromise who I am for anyone. And most importantly I've realized that if God is at the center of what I do, I will not fail. With all of this, I should be a member of the olympic swimming team in no time (metaphorically in life, of course, because Mary and sports are not a combination that ever go together. Ever.). With all of this said, in a month and a half, I guess it's time for me to sink or swim.