I’m failing one of my classes and I’m not entirely convinced I’ll be an engineer after I graduate. So why am I still an engineering major?

Mostly, because I hate school and don’t want to stay in it any longer than necessary. But recently, I found out I probably have to add on another year anyways. And that’s if I miraculously start passing this class I’m failing. If I fail it, I’m probably here 2 more years.

But maybe I only hate school because I don’t like my classes? The theory is interesting, but the application is hard and makes me want to cry. I just don’t like it.

So lately I’ve been thinking about changing my major. For the past two semesters, religion major keeps rolling through my head at random points.

Religion major.

Today I looked up the degree requirements and I could knock them out in 3 semesters. One semester less than I have to take if I stay here.

Who knows? I’m still thinking and praying about it. Tonight I’ll talk to my family and see what they say.

Religion major.

It just sounds right. Maybe it’s time for a change.


Life is Hard,

But grace is sweet.

A friend is struggling with some decisions, and last night I just sent a message that said, “Life is hard, but grace is sweet. Don’t be too hard on yourself, no matter what decision you make.”

Last semester I had a come to Jesus moment when I was sitting in my car reading. I realized that for the past summer I had lived my life in fear of making the wrong choice and disappointing God. There are two key things about this:

  1. You can’t disappoint a God who already knows your story from beginning to end. He breathed life into us, and He sent a Savior to rescue us. We don’t have the power to disappoint Him.
  2. What an awful way to live life. I don’t believe that God’s love is something you earn–it’s a gift that He’s already given us. God wants us to follow Him, and this is exciting! It should not be paralyzing.

Realizing this was freeing in so many ways. I was free to actually love God. I was free to make decisions, still through prayer, trusting that no matter what happened God had me. I was free to realize that even if I did mess up a little bit, I had not messed up God’s ultimate plan.

But I also have been faced with some tough decisions, some choices that are big and terrifying and have been making me consider what God’s plan for my life is. And it turns out I needed that exact text I sent.

Life is hard, but grace is sweet.




I’m still praying and seeking God’s will on this choice, because I want what God wants for my life. But I am not paralyzed by this decision, because I know even if I stumble a little bit, I am forgiven. God’s got me in His hand. He’s guiding me. And I can’t mess up His plan. No matter what choice I make, He’s still in control.

He’s always in control.


Last Wednesday I got so stressed out that I’m still tired, almost a week later. And that’s fine.

Really, it is. Sometimes life just throws a curveball at you, and you get knocked down. There’s no way you remain standing, and all the wind is just blown out of you.

It’s how you respond that makes or breaks you, though. A couple of years ago, I would have responded to this completely wrong. I would have cried and cursed and screamed and thrown a pity party for actual weeks. When the anxious thoughts came I would have let them consume me, until all I became was an anxious knot.

But not this time. This time, I looked my fear straight in the eye and said NO. I cried a little, then I said a prayer, and I kept going. I didn’t try to avoid the feelings, but I also didn’t give them too much power. Yes, the situation was awful. No, it was not the end of the world. It was not the end of me. And then, I dove into my community. And I was honest. I asked for prayers, and I kept moving. And even though it’s a week later and I’m still exhausted, I’m standing tall.

This is not my end. I will not let this unravel me. God hasn’t brought me this far to drop me now. I wholeheartedly believe that. And believing that has made all the difference.

That, and the coolest group of people I know.

The Things We Carry

I was talking to my friends several weeks ago and I mentioned something in passing about the leg braces I used to wear when I was younger. My friends flipped out—“Why didn’t you tell us you wore leg braces? What do you mean you wore braces? How have you not mentioned this???”

The honest answer is I don’t think about them a whole lot. I’m incredibly blessed that even though my legs are not exactly what they should be, the problems I have with them do not hold me back in any real way or provide any major hurdle in my life. I have arthritis from a surgery I had several years ago, and chilly mornings like this one make my knees and hips ache. Sometimes I hyper-extend my knees because a weird thing that came with my birth defect was being double jointed everywhere. And sometimes, because my feet bones are not properly aligned, my feet really hurt after a long day. But really, these are small complaints, and I am just thankful that these are my only ones. So I don’t really bring up the braces, the casts, the surgery, the custom arch supports. For the most part, all of that is in the past.

Except, after my friends flipped out, I realized how much all of that stuff still impacts my day to day life.

The biggest way, perhaps, is that I have an obsession with fun socks. My leg braces were plastic and went from my toes to my knees (luckily I was allowed to have colored plastic, and I had blue tie-dye braces). To prevent the braces from rubbing my legs raw, I had to start wearing knee socks under them. My mother, who could see this turning into a very bad situation for a then middle-school me, spent hours on the internet searching for and ordering fun patterned knee socks so these braces didn’t turn into a punishment, but into an expression of sorts. It’s been eight years since I wore braces on my legs, but I still haven’t bought a plain pair of socks to wear. My current favorite pair have donuts all over them, and the plainest pair I have are still polka-dotted.

I also realized I still don’t particularly prefer ponytails. I’d rather wear braids or buns if I give myself the time to do my hair. Before I had knee surgery, I limped. For a long time, I didn’t realize it. An orthopedist once asked my mom how long I had limped, and she said forever. All of a sudden it made sense why my ponytails swung from side to side so violently while I walked–I was limping. There was no equilibrium state in my walk, and my hair reflected that. Braids and buns don’t swing from side to side, and made it easier for me to forget that I was limping. Braids, buns, and loose hair all require a little more effort, but for the younger me that was once embarrassed by my problems, it was far more preferable, and now it’s just become a habit.

Now these aren’t really big deals, but they did make me pause and think. What other things from my past am I still carrying with me? What embarrassments, what insecurities, what fears am I still holding, when I should be laying them down at the foot of the cross? What have I been trying to hide from God, instead of handing those things over and letting myself be healed? Bringing these things out into the light has freed me, incredibly. I feel the most comfortable in my own skin I have ever felt, because since that conversation, I have been working through these things from my past and dropping that weight. I am free to live in this moment, right here, and be the goofy, bold me that I knew was in there all along. My past, those things I carried with me–Jesus has victory over those. He has made me a new creature.

A new creature who still loves a good pair of fun socks.

Self Care Nights + Challenges

Today after work I went to Target in search of a new face wash. I conveniently found some for stressed out skin, caused by the stressed out person wearing it. Because my middle name might as well be stress, I picked it up, and the moisturizer that went with it (and hello, they were on sale, so talk about a score).

So tonight, naturally, I’m having a self care night. I’m finally done with homework due every day, and my test today basically turned my brain into mush, so I decided to relax and take it easy for a night. It’s wonderful. My new face wash feels great, I used a sheet mask with no distractions, and I’m about to light a candle and read for a little bit before I go to bed early.

This is it. This is what dreams are made of.

Because I can’t do this every night, I’m trying to find a way to include little self care things into my every day routine, instead of blocking out one night a month to do nothing after I’ve died.

That doesn’t mean that I won’t still have self care nights devoted entirely to relaxing and taking care of myself. The goal is just to make taking care of myself a priority, and a natural thing to do. I can’t help other people and do the things I’m supposed to and want to do if I’m not taking care of myself physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. So for the next 30 days, I have a self care challenge. Each day, I’m going to do one small act of self care in the middle of all the chaos. I’ve even written the task down in my bullet journal for each day. And because I’m always into discovering new ways to care for myself, I pulled the challenge from Pinterest. Some of these things are familiar to me (sheet masks, reading) and some are entirely new (wearing my favorite outfit just because, cooking new recipes).

So here’s to the next thirty days of learning to take care of me in the chaos, and hopefully manage it better by doing so.

It’s Fine, I’m Fine

Today in lab we started our experiment 30+ minutes late, and after we were allowed to start we struggled to use the apparatus. Any time we would ask for help, our professor would just sigh at us.

To be fair, we came in a little messy today. Our lab notebooks weren’t set up 100% right, and he had to help us fix them. One of our calculations was over 100 lb off and for the life of us, we could not get to the right answer. And then, we couldn’t even figure out how to work the machine (PTL for TA’s that help without shame).

Despite that messy start, we weren’t the group to break the apparatus. We were also the first (and only) group to finish gathering all the data. And, in the middle, we had our TA laughing because of all the jokes we were making.

I don’t know where you are today, but friend. Just like our mess and our professor’s attitude did not stand in the way of us finishing the lab successfully and happily today, your mess will not stop you from living a full and glorious life. There is no pit so deep that God can’t pick you right up and set you on the road you were meant to walk. No start so rough He can’t smooth it out. No day so dismal He can’t provide a bright spot. And when others try to sign and push you down for your mess? Well, just make jokes about professors on beaches in cowboy boots and go about your business, because only God’s opinion of you matters and in His eyes, you’re solid.


This morning I sat on my couch and drank my coffee before driving to school.

No music, no phone scrolling, no TV. Just me, the couch, and my coffee.

It was refreshing.

I’m learning to build time like this into my schedule. The night before, I cleaned my room, cooked and packed my lunch, and packed both my bookbag and work bag so I’d just have to grab them on my way out. When I wasn’t frantic, it was much easier to make sure I had everything I needed. In fact, it took me less time to pack my bags than normal. This morning, I intentionally woke up an hour before I had to so I wouldn’t be in a desperate rush to get ready and get out the door. I was calmer, and made better decisions about what I needed to wear and what I needed to do.

I’m making these choices in other aspects of my life. My phone is laid down more often. In fact, it doesn’t charge on my nightstand anymore, but a distance away from my bed so it can’t distract me at night.

The things that cluttered my room are gone, donated, or trashed, depending. The same goes for the clothes I no longer wear.

I’m saying yes to fewer things–not because the things are bad, but because I can’t do it all and maintain my sanity.

The less there is, the richer my life is. I’m enjoying the slow, instead of the break-neck pace I was running at. I’m enjoying the room to savor things instead of rushing to get them done so I can move on to the next thing. I’m less anxious, I’m generally happier, and I feel a lot more prepared to handle whatever comes my way because it’s not throwing my train off the tracks–I’ve built in room for the unexpected. When the unexpected comes, I can stay calmer and make better decisions.

My life contains so much less. It’s not bare, it’s not empty. It’s just simple. Used to, I would have hated living a “simple” life, equating simple with boring. My life is not boring, it’s not ordinary. It’s wonderful and strange and I’m still doing fun things. I’ve just built the room in my heart to enjoy the weird and wonderful things now. Simple is not boring. Simple is perhaps one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.