Going Back to K-Vegas
A few months ago I was notified that one of the professors I was closest with from TSU was retiring, which of course means a mini reunion and a trip to Kirksville, Missouri. This place, where I spent a chunk of my formative years, is somewhere I very regularly joke about. I knew it as a place in the middle of nowhere fixed with a Walmart, Pancake City and a train bridge (it is exactly what it sounds like…a bridge that is suspended over train tracks where we would go and sit for fun). Once I graduated from Truman, I didn’t think I would miss it as much as I have; so at the opportunity to go and visit my old stomping grounds, I was ready.
Friday morning, I got in my car and drove the two hours to my parents house to drop off my dog, and then the next morning, drove the remaining four hours to Kirksville. The first thing I did was meet with one of my college mentors and dear friends for brunch on the north side of town. To see her face, hear her laugh, and listen to her beautiful Australian accent, brought me back to being 20 years old and being so confused as to why such a cool woman would want to hand out with me. We spoke of old times, what has changed, how we have changed…I don’t fully understand how so much could happen in such a short amount of time. After we parted ways, I stopped by the CCF house on Halliburton which was next to the house I lived in while in college. It still had the stairs the creaked when you walked up them, the encouragement board to leave notes, and the walls were covered in posters from events passed some with pictures of friends I haven’t thought of in a long while. The walk to campus was so natural, like I never left.
Around Truman there was a joke that I couldn’t walk around campus without running into someone I knew. I guess that statement still holds true. Walking on campus with a friend I shared my Acting 1 class with and her fiance. To hug an old friend who I not only shared acting with but a friend who shared so many vulnerable moments with while trying to find our voice in the theatre, it felt safe. To see them so happy, to see her more confident, it meant the world to me.
I will admit, sorry Truman security, I attempted to (and on one occation, successfully) break into some of my old classrooms and work spaces just to see if it changed. Is it weird that the smell hasn’t changed? Is it weird that when I went to Truman as a student I hated the smell, but now it has become a small comfort? Or that I LOVE the fact that while walking through the music halls, I could hear someone playing piano?
When I made it to two of my favorite Kirksvillian’s house, I was ready to talk about ministry and what actually matters.
Most of the time I joke about my age…especially since I am usually with middle and high school students. I am always the old lady of the group at a whopping 28 years old by at least ten years. In all actuality, I am not old. It has only been six years since I have graduated from college, but it seems like an eternity.
Meeting with former mentors/friends I still look up to and admire showed me something that I wish I would have known in college. I am not perfect: I don’t always like the way I look, I am not confident in speech always, my opinions and feelings change constantly, I usually feel awkward, I cringe at pictures of myself…and despite all of that, I am incredibly loved, wanted, and have an amazing community of people who love and support me all over the world.
Getting breakfast, my friend and I spoke about all of these insecurities I had (*sometimes still have*) but how drastically different they feel now. She mentioned how she will “meet with these girls and they will say, ‘I don’t have friends. No one wants to be around me…’ and I will think, ‘what the heck do you think I’m doing here?!'” With a very loud laugh followed by my face turning beat red, I knew I was that girl.
This realization was monumental in my current healing process after leaving my previous position. The fact of the matter is that not everyone is going to like me, but that doesn’t mean who I am at my core is wrong; if that were true, I wouldn’t have anyone.
Thinking back to when I was regularly meeting with my mentor, I can’t imagine the hurt I must have caused her exclaiming to her face that her love and care for me didn’t count. In reality, I assumed she was just putting up with me. It’s funny how a small change in perspective can drastically alter your life. So, for all of us who cringe when we remember the horribly awkward moments, I want to share this:
“Remember not the former things,
nor consider the things of old.
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 43:18-19
This verse was one that was spoken over me earlier this year and has become my verse in this season of life. Over the next few weeks, we will come back to this verse again and again and again as I continue to move, grow, and learn. I ask that you come with me and share in your own growth with the Lord. For the death we have lived in…the awkwardness…the assumption that we are completely alone…the deep pits of darkness we sit in are in the past; the Lord is doing amazing new things in helping us recognize life and love.
Leaving Pickler’s was interesting. I had some time to kill, so I stopped at my usual spot when I was in college for some dinner: The Great Wall. The little girl behind the counter I remember helping with school reports is now in high school and vaguely remembers my face.
Driving out to the retirement party brought back more memories than I thought it would. When I got to the main street before turning off onto the gravel road to Rainbow Basin, I passed the TSU Ag Farm where I had so many parties, rode my bike to for peace and quiet, and passed on my many rides to Rainbow Basin for mental health days.
The very 70’s style sign locating the gravel road for my destination was just as I had remembered it: kind of hidden an very run down, but comforting. I passed the random houses and lakes alongside the road, and the “no trespassing” sign which lead to the abandoned ski lodge where my friends and I would explore on occasion and hike up to the top of the ski lift usually in early fall or late spring so we could see all the lights in the town…our own little oasis.
I passed my destination and went to park my car and find my tree where I spent my first alone time in college. In previous post, you might remember me talking about my inability to be alone…well this is where that was broken. Many tears were shed under that tree, and many pictures were taken along the path leading to it. Another safe place to add to my list.
I turned around a made it to Jackson Stables, my favorite winery, and was met by so many faces I had forgotten in the last six years…
When I decided to go to the retirement party, I was mainly excited to see and celebrate one of my favorite professors and buy my favorite wine from the winery we were at (where I performed my last musical and got paid in wine, and it was amazing). Little did I know I would be bombarded with “blasts from the past,” their significant others, and their children. One of my friends was holding her son and explained to him that Harper was my dog, and told me they enjoyed going through my pictures of my little furry bundle of joy. Of course, I was flattered, but responded with “there is no way that is your baby.” In my mind, this incredibly beautiful and successful woman was still the freshman in college who played Little Red Riding Hood in Into The Woods…
I explained previously that it is easy for me to quickly cringe at moments passed and assume that other only remember me for my personal downfalls. If this trip taught me anything, it was that being reunited with familiar faces, no matter how long it has been, brings back a rush of memories…mainly positive and heartwarming.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland.-Isaiah 43:19
This week I see this passage in a new light. No, I am not fully the person I once was, but she is still in there, she has just experienced more of life and learned. Who I was isn’t wrong. This new thing Christ is doing in me is not being trapped in the fear of how I am or was perceived, and instead, enjoying those around me, appreciating the beauty they bring to the world…to me, and help me realize how incredibly blessed I am to have them be a part of my life. Even if for only a moment, they have brought a smile, a lesson, a light to my life and I can only credit that to the Lord. What a gift it is to call each and every one of those individuals my friends and my teachers.
I wish more than anything that I could name each and every one of these beautiful beings. You know who you are. I thank the Lord for you. You are a gift. Please don’t forget that.
One of the most beautiful things I think anyone can witness is the immense bond between two people, be that siblings, partners, friends, or father and daughter just to name a few.
When I was a sophomore at TSU, a friend of mine introduced me to her little sister (who quickly became a good friend of mine) who was also very passionate performing arts. I had seen her in a show and saw how talented she was, so when she asked if she could shadow me at show choir rehearsals, and the musical rehearsals, of course I said yes. It was then, spring of 2011, that she was introduced to our professor (who just retired spring of 2019). He is known for being patient, loving, kind, humble, extremely giving and a very hard worker. His office door was always open to talk about anything. Most of the time, if he wasn’t in his office, I would just sit in there for a moment of comfort and gaze onto the computer screen which pictured the Baker, Jack, Cinderella, and Little Red singing “No One Is Alone” from our production of Into The Woods (one of, if not his favorite song from his favorite musical).
The following year, she, my friend, started as a freshman at TSU. To say she was a ray of sunshine would be an understatement. Her joy, laughter, goofiness, and sincere heart was impossible to ignore. Very quickly she gained the respect as an actor and as a person in the department, and in our campus ministry. By her sophomore year, she was interning for our professor in the scene shop and continued to grow as a performer and person.
Over the years, she and I lost touch, only to be reunited at our professors retirement party a few weekends ago. When she arrived, all were drawn to her and her smile. When she spoke to anyone, even if she had just met them, she was so engaged in the conversation, it was like no one else was in the room. You were her world in that moment, and that kind of attention is rare to come by. As I saw my friend make her way around the room, she finally settled with her mentor, our professor, and held him by the shoulders. This man who had become a father figure, a best friend, was her full attention in that moment. As they held each others shoulders, looked into one another’s eyes, and spoke words of encouragement, adoration, and thankfulness to have been in one another’s live, they gained the attention of those surrounding them. Completely oblivious to the crowd, they continued their conversation as tears streamed down their faces.
Watching them, you couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with love in that moment. Being a witness gave us on lookers a sense of worth, a sense of being, and a chance to share in that love. Two people who cared more about and gave their lives to those around them came together and presented a beautiful gift.
In that moment I saw a glimpse of heaven. I saw a glimpse of what I want my relationship with Christ to be. I saw a glimpse of how I am to interact with others. In that moment I saw the legacy I want to leave behind.
And, I know for my friend, our professor, and myself, we have all struggled with our own questioning; our own moments of not feeling seen, or cringing of how we are perceived.
It was in this moment, that I saw Christ taking those doubts of ourselves, of our past, and making them new. The wasteland we thought of how we were is being seen in a different light, through the lens of Christ, and becoming a stream.
To my dear friend and sister, my pastors and mentors, and my professor-my theatre family, I hope you know that the impact you made on my life is one that will last forever. Thank you for leaving your mark of a mouse hole to remind me of all of the love and joy there is in this world. Sometimes, we just have to work a little to see it.
