The Social Media Purge

This semester I took a course where one of the assignments was essentially to break a bad habit (I told you in my last post that psych majors tend to have touchy feeling assignments). Unfortunately it didn't take me too long to come up with a VERY long list of all of the bad habits that I could break.

When I really thought about it, I realized that a lot of the habits I needed to break (getting distracted, going to bed late, missing out on what was around me) all had to do with me depending on my phone too much. So I thought about it (and prayed about it) and I knew that my ultimate goal would have to be to spend less time on my phone.

I needed to go extreme. Like delete all social media apps off of my phone and log out of my accounts extreme.
No Instagram.
No Facebook.
No Pinterest.
No SnapChat.

As one of my friends affectionally called it: I went Amish for a month.

You know the saying, "You never know a good thing until it's gone?" Well, you really never realize how important something is in your life until you can't have it. Like a best friend trapped in the woods with no cell service, or the sweater you left in your closet at school (not like this has EVER happened to me or anything) you only realize how much you rely on something when you don't have it.

The first week was weird, because I was still going on my phone often, only to realize that I couldn't do anything except *gasp* call and text on my phone. I would grab my phone out of habit, only to realize that I couldn't get distracted on it like I had in the past.  Then week 2 came around and I noticed that I was carrying my phone a lot less (to the initial frustration of everyone who tried to get a hold of me). But that wasn't the only thing I noticed:

I also noticed people on the way to class that I would have normally blown on by, head down, eyes glued to my screen.  I talked to friends, strangers, professors, lost guests and myself (maybe I shouldn't admit that). Anyway the point is that because my eyes were on my screen less, I was able to notice those around me, and I was actually having FACE-TO-FACE INTERACTIONS... who would have thought?!

Not only was I noticing people more, I was spending more quality time with those closest to me. No longer did I want to eat lunch alone (since I had nothing to distract me) which meant that I went out of my way to eat with my friends. Over time, I simply stopped bringing my phone to the table, and started finding out the stressers, joys, prayer requests, jokes and aspirations of others, from them, rather than their profile page. I started being more intentional about investing in others, simply because I was focusing on my real friends rather than my Facebook friends.

The month went by, and I wasn't itching to have the social media back.

I'm sure I missed about 5 proposals, 2 pregnancy announcements, 49 recipes, and 6 "for sale" ads. Not to mention the many, many, snapchats that people were disappointed that I would never see. No wedding planning was being done, and my Pinterest boards were a wreck.

But I no longer missed it. 

No, social media isn't a terrible thing (after all you probably got here from my link on Facebook) but I had given it an unhealthy position in my life. After some reflection since my purge I realized some hard truths about the place that my phone held in my life:

              I would wake up and pray for God to use me that day to build His kingdom,                                         yet I'd spend my day looking at my phone, rather than at the people He had
              placed around me. I'd spend more time communicating through pictures,
              than through words. I gave a man-made invention more of my time than I
              would give to the people around me, the very ones who ACTUALLY could
              love me back.

So what's changed? 

Well, as far as the little habits, I've decided to keep most of the apps off of my phone (which is why I will never get your snapchats, although I'm sure they really are hilarious). I log out of Facebook on my laptop so that it's more effort the next time I want to go on, usually I'm too lazy, so my notifications go unchecked. I rarely check Instagram during school, and Pinterest is left untouched during the semester.

But it wasn't just the little things that changed. As silly as it is to say: that month of no social media, really changed me. Overall I'm more present in my own life. I'm less plugged into technology, and more connected to those around me. I became a better friend, student, tour guide and Christian. All because I gave up social media for a month. All because I trained myself to use my phone less. All because I took the time to realize my priorities and refocus my attention. 

That's what I realize that I needed all along: a wake-up call. I needed to realize how out of line my priorities were. Is the phone of reality ringing in your life? Are you going to ignore it forever? I'd challenge you to answer it, after all, it might just change your life.

The Pieces are Finally Fitting Together

Another year older and another year wiser. 
   I've heard the phrase my whole life, although I remember it best from the Rugrats All Grown Up! theme song. That is one of those silly things that has stayed with me far past it's expected expiration date, sorta like how I remember how to get to Dragon Land a little too well...

    Anyway, as this year of life comes to a close, I thought I'd share a little bit of the wisdom that I've learned during it. This post is for you, you middle-schooler trying to fit in. It's for you, you high school senior wondering what the future looks like. It's for you, you college student wondering when life will really start. It's for me, because I was and am, searching for me.

    Middle school was awkward. That's a given. Then there's high school, which is just weird. Then there's college, which is just hard. I always just counted down from one to another. I couldn't wait until REAL LIFE started, you know the one where I am finally handed this 3,000 page volume that tells me exactly who I am, how I fit into this world and where I'm going. I expected life to be like a book, but instead, I got handed a puzzle, one of those ridiculous ones where all of the pieces are the same shape and there is no picture on the front cover.

  You see, that picture is in the pieces the whole time. Maybe it's some beautiful mountain landscape, sprinkled with trees turning the red, orange, and yellow that only fall can bring. Or, maybe it's a tall palm tree, bent in just the right place to allow the leaves to gently kiss the water as the breeze blows through. You don't know what exactly it will look like, but you know it'll be great.

    But it takes work. No amount of staring at the box will cause the image to appear: you have to take all of the pieces out and get to work. You might start with the border, then start piecing together the large pictures. Slowly, overtime the pieces are filled in. All along the picture is there, but you just have to find it.

My pains, triumphs, lessons, journeys, and all of the items from my past are sitting unassembled in the box called my life. Thrown in is a wide variety of pieces that I can only imagine; those make up my future. This box is full of the pieces that will shape who I will become. For years I stared at the puzzle, hoping that someday it would just be put together. I wanted to just be so sure of my life, you know skip past the heartbreaks, missteps and mistakes. I wanted to wake up one day and say, "Wow, would you look at that! Over night everything fell into place and now I see my life exactly how it should be." The night never came, and I figured that that I should probably take another look at that stupid puzzle box just glaring at me.

I'm so glad that I finally threw all of the pieces of my life out on the table before me and started sorting through them. 

   I started with the borders, you know the things about me I'm pretty sure of, my faith and my academics. Over the past few years I've pieced together the family part of my puzzle, and college has helped me work on the career portion. This year I had to do a little reworking on the friends section, because sometimes what you think is a good fit, isn't really the BEST fit. I've had a couple of people come into my life who were able to give a little insight, but for the most part, this is a puzzle that I'll have to do on my own.

So what does this mean for you? Well, I know someone, somewhere is reading this, who just feels lost. They thought they finally had their life together, only to realize it was not what it appeared. They were so sure of who they were, until they were rocked to their core. Whatever stage you're at, let me just say this, clearly you aren't supposed to know who you are just yet! The day will come when things become more clear, but only after a little work, some heartbreaks and more than your fair share of mistakes.

So stop cheating off of the puzzles of the people who you think your life is supposed to look like. Stop trying to let someone else be the one that completes your puzzle. Stop cheating. That will get you no where, TRUST ME. Simply look at the task before you. Work with your pieces. It'll seem to be at a stand still. That's when you stop the task before you and do something else. Then come back, you'll have a little bit more of direction.

Make that puzzle. Live your life. Piece together who you are. You can't go wrong. You can't possibly mess up the puzzle so poorly that it becomes unrecognizable, well unless of course:

You never try to put the pieces together.

P.S You know the best part about the puzzle? I for sure get to put in the last piece. 

Cornucopia of Blessings

I heard it for the first time in first grade. I was intrigued. From that moment on I tried to slip the word into daily conversations and pulled it out at any chance that I got (this was back in the day when I thought that an plethora of gargantuan locutions made me appear quite perspicacious). As I've matured, I've come to truly appreciate the word and only use it when it is most appropriate: during the Thanksgiving season.

Cornucopia. It means abundance, surplus and plenty. That's a word that I truly feel describes my life at this moment: a cornucopia of blessings.

This past year has been full of trials with far too many deaths, painful losses and seemingly constant struggles. But I still have plenty. I have a job that I love, a car that I can drive, and a house that I call home. I have plenty.  I have legs that can run (slowly), arms that can lift (small amounts) and eyes that can see (decently). I have plenty. I have a family that loves me, friends who care, and a Savior that guides me.  I have plenty. 

On the topic of plenty, I wanted to share some of the incredible things I am thankful for this Holiday season. Just like everything in my life, it's sure to give you a few laughs, but through the tears of laughter, I challenge you to think about just how much we have to be thankful for!

Taylor Hobbs' Cornucopia of Blessings: 

1) I'm thankful for my friends. I'm thankful for the ones who gladly sing at the top of their lungs with me in the car. I'm not sure if they actually want to sing, or they simply want to drown out my voice... but nonetheless I'm thankful for singing friends. I'm thankful for the friends that push me to excel academically, and do anything in their power to help me succeed. I'm thankful for the friends that help me with assignments even when I am dead weight. I'm thankful for smart friends. I'm thankful for the friends that give me their extra fries and share their homemade cookies with me. I'm thankful for generous friends. Overall, I'm just thankful for my friends.

2) I'm thankful for my family. I'm thankful for the dorky pictures and texts my parents constantly send me just to remind me that they still love me. I'm thankful for the conversations that I can have with my sisters about snowball fights, cookie making and sleep-overs. I'm thankful for cousins who are choosing to dedicate their life to follow Christ. I'm thankful for the embarrassing stories that my family is WAAAAAAY too quick to share with my friends. I'm thankful for my quirky, funny and loving family. 

An actual text from my parents... No wonder why I'm so weird

3) I'm thankful for my roommate. At this point I'm not sure how she hasn't gone crazy (Note: I think there is potential for a psychological study here...) In all seriousness I'm so blessed to share a room with someone who cares about me, prays for me and does life with me. As much as I tease her (EVERY single chance I get), I truly would be lost (and hungry, and messy, and stressed) without her!

4) I'm thankful for my job. I love Cedarville (if you didn't know that read my previous post) and I love the jobs that I have there. Being a tour guide is an incredible opportunity, and no matter how stressful the day, spending time with future students and their families is an instant boost. I love the bosses that care about me (so many questions) and care for me (food, tons and tons of food). I love my job. 

5) I'm thankful for technology. Being far from home (1,177 miles to be exact) is hard, but technology makes it easier. I'm thankful that even though I can't physically tuck my sisters in at night, I can still blow them virtual kisses and pray with them. I'm thankful that my mom is only a phone call or a text away, and I'm VERY thankful that we have unlimited plans. "Mom, what's my social security number." "Mom, how illegal is it to pass on the right side... what if they are from Massachusetts though..." I"m thankful for the technology that connects me with my loved ones. 

6) Finally, I'm thankful for the breath in my lungs. I'm thankful that I have the ability to hold my breath (when it smells funky) and the ability to breathe harder (like when I work out). I'm thankful for my muscles that get sore, because it means that they work extra hard for me. I'm thankful for my health.

So can you see why I love the word Cornucopia? It describes my life so perfectly: plenty, overflowing and abundant. I'm so thankful for everything in my life. I'm thankful for this Cornucopia of blessings that I am privileged enough to call my life.

Why I love Cedarville (the TRUTH)

For those of you that don't know: I'm a tour guide at Cedarville. To say its a dream come true would be an understatement... but that's a later post. Anyway, what a tour guide does is walk backwards all over campus for an hour telling prospective students cheesy facts about how great Cedarville is and about how much they love it here.

Here's the thing though, I actually mean every word that I say. I am so incredibly blessed to be at Cedarville, and honestly I know I take it for granted far too often. Do you want to know why I love Cedarville so much?

Genuine love.

Ironic right? That I love Cedarville because of the love on the campus. But it's the truth. From the moment I stepped on campus, a majority of my anxiety about going to college simply melted away (and if you knew me then, you knew that I had A LOT of anxiety about college). Anyway, want to know why I love the love here? Because its real. Let me tell you why:

Every single person that works here at Cedarville love every single student that steps foot on this campus.

I've had lengthly conversations with maintenance workers who love the ministry of Cedarville and constantly pray for students.

I've talked with random staff while waiting in line for something, who wanted to know all about me and help me in anyway possible.

Everyone here loves to be here. I know that sounds corny, but I truly think it's true. Don't believe me? Well I'll get more specific then and tell you what's really been on my heart lately.

Admissions 
When I was a high school kid, I hated getting calls from random colleges. One time I got a call from a girl and I literally spent the whole phone call wondering if she was a robot because her responses seemed so perfectly scripted. She didn't really seem to care about me as much as she did about my application. 

Now that I work in admissions, I see that here at Cedarville that something is different. We don't ever look at a prospective student as a dollar sign and id number. Honestly, we get to know not only their names, but their stories. We laugh with them, cry with them and pray with them. Our mission statement to be sincere in our faith and excellent in our service is not merely a suggestion, but a desire. I'm so privileged to work with an incredible group of both Cedarville students and staff, who love, care for and encourage me on a daily basis. What's most amazing is that they are a group of people who don't try to sell Cedarville to people, but instead try to show Christ to people. 

Professors 
When I was in high school I was always warned by returning college kids that college professors actually don't care about their students... like at all. They shared that professors almost seemed to take pleasure in student's failures.

Clearly they weren't talking about Cedarville. 

The professors here not only love what they teach, but they love who they teach. Honestly. I've been invited into professor's offices, homes and lives. I've gone to see professors for projects not related to their class. I've had a professor stay way later than office hours in order to make sure that I had the time I needed to discuss important things with them. I've had professors ask how I was doing, and genuinely want to know. I've had professors who just pour into my life, whether I be one of 5 students or 500 students they had that semester. I've had professors who care. 

Just tonight I had a professor that got our entire class beautiful hand-crafted mugs with our names on them. They were made by a potter that she brought in to speak to our class, so not only are they beautiful, but they mean something. This is just one example of the hundreds of times professors went way beyond their job description in order to serve me.

I always make my joke that when professors go through the syllabus and remind students that "...if you ever need something you can come to my office!" they mean it. Actually, it's an invitation that they expect you to take them up on at least once.


But honestly, do you know what I love the most about the professors here? They pray for us. They ask for prayer requests, and rather than "fix it and forget it" they make an effort to follow up on the request at a later date.

God has just really reminded me why I love to call this place HOME this week and I just had to share it, so thank you so much for letting me tell you about why I love Cedarville University. 

Real talk

Let's talk about STRUGGLES

     To say that my life has been interesting over the past 6-months would be a gross understatement. I spent my entire summer working as a summer missionary for Child Evangelism Fellowship (CEF). I spent my days teaching bible stories, acting out memory verses, sharing the gospel and investing in children. I spent my summer serving God. 

     However, I also spent a majority of my summer going to funerals and comforting my loved ones as they struggled through their own trials. Perhaps the most difficult trial of the summer was dealing with the emotional pain of loosing the friendship of several people last semester. Overall my summer was marked by pain and disappointment.

     I would love nothing more than to say that through all of the trials I kept my gaze fixed on God, and was able to look past my temporary circumstances in order to see the eternal light at the end of the tunnel; however I wouldn’t want to lie on my blog. To be honest, I spent most of the summer questioning my faith. Although I know many modern Christian songs talk about God’s grace, peace and love being like an ocean that constant crashes over us, I didn’t feel like I was being surrounded by God; I felt more like I was drowning a sea of doubt, barely able to recover from one trial before another wave of suffering consumed me. 

   This summer, when trials hit, I often looked to the past for explanation.  I couldn’t see any possible purpose for the suffering, simply, because in the past I had been serving God whole-heartedly. After all, why would God want to do anything that would possibly deter my ministry?

     The problem was, that I was stuck looking on what lead up to the trials, rather than anticipating what would flow from it. 

This summer in particular I learned that many times it is more crucial to look at the effects of the trials than the cause. 

I know that I could not have become a better servant of God without those trials, because they made me realize why exactly I serve God. 

     It’s not because of the “just-world theory” of good things happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people. If this were the case Jesus Christ would have never died on a cross, because He certainly didn’t deserve it. I think its easy to fall into this trap of thinking that serving God leads to good things, I think it is more important to see thatserving God leads to good attitudes, even in bad things. As I mentioned earlier, my attitude during my trials was terrible, but not I’m able to see what good it brought because I now understand why I serve God. 

  I serve God because it is the only natural way for me to express my love for Him.  I serve Him, not because it’s good for me, but because He is good to me. 

    While I may not always have my health, wealth, family or friends, I know that the very breath in my lungs is a gift from God, that I have done nothing to deserve. I follow His rules, not because they prevent trials from happening, but because I know that He has created those rules to protect and care for me. 

    Unfortunately, I had to make many things stripped away from my spiritual facade in order to discover what was truly behind my service. Now I know that I can serve God, not just when it’s good for me, but because I have confidence that it will only benefit me spiritually and eternally. 

Purposeful Random-ness

One time, during a fairly deep theological discussion, a man told me, "Religion is a way to find magic in this world. It changes the way you see things." While I have to disagree with the word "magic" I think that this man (who was an agnostic) was getting somewhere.

My faith gives me hope in hopeless situations.

My faith lets me see light in utter darkness.

My faith allows me to find purpose in the pain.

My faith shows me careful planning in the randomness.

Now I know what some of you are thinking, and no this post isn't designed to push my faith onto you, and no I won't condemn anyone who doesn't have the same views as me. Sorry to disappoint you. If that was what you were hoping for... well unfortunately there are 100's of other blogs out there that can do that for you. I'm not here to tell you about all of that:

This post is tell you about my random life. 

When people ask me about my summer, its hard for me to describe 3 months in a simple sentence. There was laughter, there were tears, there was singing, there were heartaches, there was joy, there was more than could ever be summed up by one sentence. I jumped, I ran, I swam, hiked, and fell. There were so many things, both noticeably large things and subtle little things, that happened in 3 short months. My life was changed by both the mountains and molehills. So, I guess that while a sentence may not do my summer justice, one word could:
Random.

My summer was full of showing up at the perfect time, being in the right place at the right time, being randomly prepared, talking to random people, and making random lifelong connections. I cannot describe to you how many times this summer something like this happened: I'd walk away from something I had never expected to occur, wondering how I had even gotten there in the first place, but knowing that it was exactly what needed to happen.
Random.

When I started thinking about writing this blog, I started to think about all of the random things that have happened in my life that have made me into the person I am today. The two biggest, and most obvious are:
1. My roommate was found randomly on Facebook (that's a great story that I'll probably drag out someday).
2. I randomly applied to Cedarville after finding a paper while cleaning my room (aka hard-hat required area).

Random.

I could go on for hours about the random conversations I've had that have turned strangers into friends. The extra stops that kept me from getting stuck in traffic. The random choices that have kept me from terrible injuries.

All in all, my life is Random.

But that's what I find most amazing. It's not. Even in the most chaotic events of my life, there is order and purpose. Even though I don't alway see it, I find great comfort in knowing that it is there.
Even when I do nothing to plan, Someone else is. It's amazing how many times my "gut instinct" has led to some incredible things. The more I think about it, the more amazed I become. The thought that God can turn "random" things into the most incredible blessings is absolutely heartwarming.

So yes sir, my faith does change the way I view every aspect of my life. My faith lets me feel like my life is full of meaning and purpose, even when I can't begin to imagine that being true. Sometimes I can't help but let a smile spread across my face (which gladly happened while I wrote this blog) at the thought of how the little unexpected occurrences in my life have shaped me into who I am today.

Do you know how a pearl is made? It starts as a grain of sand. Random right? But once the oyster notices it, they try to get rid of it and then a bunch of science-y stuff happens and BOOM you have a pearl.

I hope this post wasn't too RANDOM (yes I meant that). In all seriousness, I hope that this post makes you start looking at the small insignificant "grains of sand" in your life, and thinking about how they ended up becoming the most beautiful pearls that adorn your life.

Enjoy the Journey

Life is often described as a journey, and I'm guessing that when most people hear this, they picture a nice paved road winding for miles and miles until it finally disappears into the horizon. I mean that's the type of life that Rascal Flatts sang about. However, being a big fan of hiking, and a Mainer at heart, I always like to imagine that life is more like a long dirt path cut through a chain of mountains.

(For all of my flatland friends I've included a picture of a mountain as a reference)

I hope my analogy isn't too much of stretch, and if you get the strong urge to go hiking after reading this post, I'll feel like my goal was accomplished either way.

When you stand at the base of the mountain, you have a very clear idea of where you need to get: the summit. It's similar in life, where we often have very clear goals marked out for us. In work its a promotion, in sports its a victory, in love its marriage, and in education its graduation. You work hard, knowing exactly what you are working towards. While it's good to have your goals in mind (mine are all posted above my desk) I think its also good to have the right perspective on these goals, and the right attitude as you go about obtaining them.

I've hiked with some people who crane their neck as they march along, needing to have the peak directly in their field of vision at all times. These people are the type who sprint through the trail, seeming to float over every boulder, mud puddle, and fallen tree. They always have their eye on the prize. They never stop to take a breather, despite the others (i.e. me) who are CLEARLY struggling. They do not let up. And while I always make it to the top very quickly when I hike with them, I rarely enjoy anything about the adventure. By the time I reach the top my lungs/quads/skin whole body is on fire, and I can barely enjoy the view because of my huffing and puffing. The worse part, is that by the time I finally catch my breath, we are on the move again, off to climb some other peak. To them anything other than forward movement is pointless.

I've lived life with people like this too. They are always running full speed ahead, rushing through to the upcoming deadline, final whistle or next diploma. They always want things done. If they aren't checking something else off of their to-do list, they aren't really doing anything productive. The problem isn't that they are highly-motivated, its that when they finally reach their goal, they don't take time to relish in the moment, and instead press on, hoping to reach the next peak before sunset. The only thing they feel towards their journey is annoyance because a long winding path lays between them and their goal. To these people, satisfaction is a fleeting feeling that quickly passes the second they eye the next summit. Every journey in life is the same because they pass by so fast: everything is a blur, then a glimmer of joy, then more blurriness as they start the next task.

Confession time: I have been one of these people. Early in my sports career, I always had my eyes on the prize, whether it be a banner for the gym, trophy for the case or highlight for the paper, I wanted it. I lived for the victory, and the "Sports Taylor" was terrible. I used to get myself in the mode where I didn't laugh at practice, I never took a break, and I especially didn't smile on game day. I overlooked hurting teammates, fallen opponents and kind fans. My eyes were on the scoreboard (figuratively), and I didn't dare let my gaze wander. When I look back on it now, honestly, I'm ashamed to think that many people's only interaction with me was when I was in this mindset. I had a one track mind, and it was always set on victory. When I'd finally win, I'd be happy for a moment, but would quickly begin dissecting the game in order to figure out what I could have done better. Victory wasn't enough, I couldn't be satisfied.

Thankfully, after a few tough loses (to people who would eventually become incredible friends) during soccer my sophomore year  I came to my senses and realized that if I only sought out satisfaction in victory, I would never find it. I had to learn to be satisfied in my journey.

I'm glad to say that I did eventually learn to enjoy the journey, just as much, if not more, than the result. I learned to find satisfaction in knowing that I had encouraged a teammate, helped an opponent and inspired a fan. I realized that practices were a great time to improve as a group, that bus trips could be a fun way to bond, and that opponents could easily become best friends. When I stopped focusing so much on the summit, and started searching for joy in the journey, I was constantly amazed at how easy it was to find it. 

You know North Face's motto is: Never stop exploring. I think that its a great motto, but due to copyright issues, I probably shouldn't make it my own personal motto. So after some deep thought, I've decided that from now on, I'll just:

I like to joke with my friends, that when I hike I always take three things: breaks, rabbit trails and pictures. I enjoy going off the beaten path (unless there are signs, or poison ivy, then I always stay on marked trails). I like to make sure that by the time I get the top, I've covered as much of the mountain as possible. I like to know that I saw every possible view and had my breath taken away at every possible chance. I like to know that if an opportunity to see something new came up, I took it. While getting to the top is super cool, I have come to appreciate the hikes where I never make it off of the river bank, the ones where all I do is explore, without ever reaching a clear "goal". I've come to enjoy every hike, even if I can't see a thing when I finally get to the top because the trees are overgrown. I've learned to simply enjoy the journey. 

I hope to live life the same way. I hope to take time for people, even when they aren't helping me "reach my goal." I hope to go out of my way to do an act of kindness. I hope to make someone smile, even when I know I'll never interact with them again. I want to take my eyes off of my goal for long enough to actually enjoy the process. I want to be satisfied no matter what level I'm at, simply because I'm going out of my way to find new paths, break new trails and uncover hidden gems. Sometimes I may not reach my next peak right when I thought I would, but I want to know that when I do reach it, I'll have the time and energy to appreciate it. I especially want to feel accomplished, even if I never make it to the top. I want to just enjoy my journey.

I earnestly pray that you find ways to enjoy your journey. Whether it's taking a break from studying to talk to a friend, stopping to point a lost individual in the right direction or smiling at the cashier as she hands you your change. When you stop focusing on the peaks of life, you start to realize that there are some pretty incredible things right where you are. 

Out of Tune

We live in a perfect world.

Wait, let me rephrase that: we live in a world that thinks its perfect. We live in a world full of people who daily hide their true identity in order to be more "perfect." We live in a world full of fakes, and the problem is that when you surround yourself with fakes for long enough, you start to forget that genuine people exist. When we spend so much time using others as our guides, we easily overlook their fallibility.

Think about it this way: I'm not very musical, but I have many friends who are very musical (it disgusts me really). Sometimes I watch them tune their instruments and hope to learn what's actually going on. I remember one time in particular when a friend struggled for several minutes to tune her guitar. She finally announced, "my tuner is broken." All along, I thought something was wrong with her skills, because she clearly could not make the tuner happy. In reality, because she knew what the instrument should have sounded like, she was able to tell when the guide was off. Because I had been basing the sound off of a broken model, I never noticed that anything was wrong. 

I think that most of society is using a broken tuner. 

Our guides are models, television characters and disney princesses. Of course they are perfect: they are scripted, edited and retouched into the ideal image. We live in a world that thinks the Kardashians are a "real" American family and that the Bachelor is about finding "true" love. We live in a world that easily confuses the real with the fake. On a personal level, people confuse who they are with who they think people want them to be. 

Luckily in this world full of fakes, there are some misfits who dare to stand out, who dare to be weird, who dare to be real. I'm proudly one of them.

I've made many important decisions in my life (where to go to school, when I should take certain classes and what type of ice cream I should get) but I think that the most important decision I have ever made, is the one that I make every day: Every morning, when I wake up, I choose to be real. I decide that rather than perfectly script my day in order to please the many people around me, I will let the real me show through, flaws and all. 

I'm not perfect. Actually, I'm far from. I say things that come across wrong. I have a talent for making a situation awkward. Most people would say that I get too excited. I laugh too loud. I love too much. I try too hard. But I think it's a perfectly "Taylor-ed" amount (Yes, I love puns). If I tried to change who I am just to please more people, I wouldn't be me, I would be the world's version of me. Instead, I am always me.

While I know that a quieter, calmer, and more passive Taylor would have more "friends," I also know that she would laugh less, smile less and stress more. She'd dream less, aspire less and sulk more. She wouldn't joke with cashiers at every store she goes to, wouldn't wave to someone she only met once, and she wouldn't go out of her way to love the unlovable. While it might not be the way most people want me to act, I can't hide who I really am. I don't live for the world. I live for Someone way more important and He thinks I'm pretty swell just the way I am.


I'll be honest, a lot of people don't like that. Many people don't even try to hide their disdain. Sometimes I feel like Taylor Swift's "Shake it off" is my theme song. But I'd rather be loved by a few than liked by many. I'd rather be real to the world, than fake to myself.

See You Later Alligator

This week was the week before I left for college. This week was a week of goodbyes.

There are some people that I cannot help but have a smile stretching from ear to ear as I say goodbye to them, because I know that the next time I see them, we’ll sprint full speed towards each other, and one of us will likely end up on the ground, while the other points and laughs hysterically. We'll hang on to each other a little longer than normal, and we'll be speechless with delight.

Even if I only get to see them for a couple hours, once a year, for the rest of my life, I know that it will be like we never left each other.

There will be no awkward pauses in the conversation, and when I finally look at my phone, I will probably realize that waaaay more time had passed than I had thought. I will also probably remember that I was supposed to be somewhere 20 minutes ago, but instead of sprinting out of the door, I will just put my phone down and keep chatting for even longer (not like this ever happened). I will make leaving awkward, and they are the ones that I hug and say bye to 10 times before we actually part ways. We can never run out of things to say, and usually we leave only to continue texting for 3 hours after. These guys are in it for the long haul. 

Overall, I realized that maybe our friendships wouldn’t look quite the same as they did when we lived minutes, rather than hours away, they were still by my side. I would still surprise them with visits, gifts and facetimes (and they would do the same). At college, when things got hard, they were still the ones I texted, called and wrote 5-page letters to. They were the ones I put in the effort to stay in touch with; the ones that I talked to when I should have been doing more “important” stuff like eating, sleeping or studying. They were my "text for 4-hours because I don't want to study for finals" friends. They are the ones that make my heart skip a beat every time I hear that they are in trouble, and with my friends that's pretty often. 

These are the forever friends.

On the other end, there are some people that I've hugged a little tighter, because I knew that as soon as I let go, our relationship would never be the same. Our story was a long one, but unfortunately I knew  that our story would end as we parted ways for college. It's like watching a sunset: you can enjoy it all you want and really soak it in, but you know that eventually it will sink into the hills and you will have to move on. They may have been a best-friend for a time, but they are not the type of best friend that will help you take on “the real world.” They are the ones that you will always see when you look in your review mirror, but never when you look in your passenger seat. 

No matter what, they shaped you into who you were, and someday they will probably be your answer to the security question “Childhood best friend.” And sure you may get together on breaks, but in the end you will sit by them on your couch, just like you had hundreds of times before, but this will be different. You will be speechless, and you will wonder what happened. It’s simple: sometimes when you take two people out of the same environment, you take them away from the only thing they ever really had in common.

It’s okay to not stay best friends with someone forever.

That won’t change all of the memories you've had with them. It won’t change all of the things in your life that they helped you fix. It won’t change the times you cried on their shoulder, laughed on their floor and sang in their car. Just because a friendship changes, doesn’t mean the memories are destroyed. If anything the memories will grow to mean more, just like you learn to appreciate something more when you know it is “limited edition.”

Sometimes I will get a random text from someone, and it will remind me that for a time we were really close, and even if we don’t still see each other, I know that we still think about each other. Even if I don’t intentionally try to keep them in my life, I know that there is no getting rid of them, and honestly, I wouldn’t want it any other way. They are the "see in the grocery store 10 years later and talk for an hour" type of friends. You'll always remember them fondly, until the day you can't remember anything anymore. In the scrapbook of life, they fill the first few pages. 

                                                                                              

Now before I start getting hate mail (okay I'm exaggerating) about how depressing this is, I just want to clarify that well, I didn’t lose all of my high school friends when I went to college. This blog isn't only about me, I write some from what I've experienced, some based on the things I see, and other stuff on what I get to help other friends through. While I did lose some pretty close friends when I went to college, I also strengthened what already existed.

If anything I learned who I really wanted to have in my life, so my friendships only got better, like pruning a shrub helps boost the quality of the living flowers. Some friendships grew stronger because we both went away, matured, and came to appreciate each other more.

"Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver, one is gold." 

The Storm of Life

For those of you that don't know, this week for work I was face painting at the fair. We have a cute little set-up with two tents: one giant white one for story-telling and one flimsy grey one for face-painting. I wasn't supposed to work after Monday, but on Thursday my boss asked me to go in today. I thought I was just going in for work, little did I know the adventure that awaited me.

As I listened to the radio on the way, I heard the severe weather warning, which obviously isn't the greatest for the fair. It's especially bad when you have to sit in a metal and plastic tent. I got to the fair about half an hour early, and pulled in right behind Hannah (the poor soul working with me all summer). We laughed at our perfect timing, and trudged over to our tents.  We barely had enough time to put down our stuff, when the skies opened and the wind began ripping through our tent.

As we opened the large tent, we noticed that it was leaking, like a lot. I reached up to try to pull it closed, but I realized that I had bitten off more than I could chew, because just then the large metal stakes began ripping out of the ground, the plastic guards began cracking, and the metal poles started bending. At this point, I was still holding on to the pole for dear life because I knew that if I let go the tent would fly. Hannah rushed over and we attempted to hold down our flying death trap.

As we held on, the wind picked up AGAIN and suddenly we started moving. Hannah shouted above the rain, "Either we let go, or we end up in the hospital." She was right, the tent wasn't worth more than our lives, so we let go and the tent started to roll down the medway. When it flipped over we thought it may be easier to control, so I tried to grab onto it again. At about this time a man saw us struggling (it was pretty obvious) and sent 3 boys over to help us hold down the tent. Hannah (clearly being the smarter out of the two of us) started grabbing all of the valuable stuff and moving it under cover. We somehow managed to wrangle the white tent over to a little shelter, and began to take it apart piece by piece. Talk about a rush. I was just getting my breath back, when I heard my phone quacking (yes, I have a duck ring tone). I tried to answer, but heard nothing. It happened 4 times. That's when I realized that somehow during our tent rescue mission my phone took on some water (It's currently chilling in a bag of rice).

The rain began pounding again, and the grey tent began to flail around. I didn't think much of it and let it be. But when an unsuspecting kid walked by, and almost got a tent leg to the face, I figured we should probably fix it. We rushed over and threw as much stuff as possible onto it to hold it down. When I say threw I mean THREW chairs, totes, tables, anything in arm's reach was holding down that grey tent. At this point, we were wet and we were cold. I really wanted, needed to fix that, so after the rain calmed down, we decided we to go to Wal-mart to get dry clothes and pick up a bag of rice. Before we made it there though, we got a little stuck in the mud, and well Daphné isn't a 4x4 so we got covered in mud as I spun out.

Eventually we made it to Wal-mart. I grabbed a basket and we basically sprinted to the rice aisle, talking about how we couldn't wait to buy dry clothes and flip-flops. I rounded the corner to the rice aisle, and stared blankly at the many option. I eventually settled on the cheapest one, and just as I dropped a bag of rice into my basket... it went black. Yup, Wal-mart (as well as 99% of Presque Isle) lost power. At this point I just dropped to the floor, half laughing and half-crying. We sat there for a while wondering how we got ourselves into this mess. We were kindly told to go up front by a Wal-mart worker, and we eventually made it out of Wal-mart empty handed and began our soaking wet trek back to the car. We even spotted a friend to take this picture. Clearly one of us was enjoying it a little more than the other.

So yeah, it was a bad day.

Actually if I am honest, it's been a bad week.

Scratch that, it was a bad month of July, and clearly this one wasn't off to a better start.

But, today I barely made it out of Presque Isle before the clouds broke and a beautiful blue sky brightened my day (literally). The gray sky rolled away, and the baby blue sky rolled in. My mood changed and I started to think about how funny the whole situation was. Today was a bad day, but it was also a great day filled with tons of laughter.

First off, what was I thinking trying to hold down the tent. Here I was, all 135 pounds of me, hanging on to the tent, which in the 60 mph winds was basically just a giant parachute. I think we all know how that would have ended. Second off, the grey tent looked like a dead spider all bent and flipped on its back. Third off, what are the chances of Wal-mart losing power. Seriously? That's just hilarious. Fourth off, did you see that hair? Apparently the dead rat look isn't my most becoming hair style.

It really got me thinking, maybe this week wasn't so terrible. I went night swimming with my friends, and starred up at the stars with my family. You know, my month hasn't been that bad. It's actually been pretty incredible. I've been tackled by 75 kids, I've gotten "lost" in the woods, and I've laughed until I've cried... several times. I've danced until I was exhausted, sang until I've lost my voice, and chased kids until I was sore. Yes, it's been a difficult month filled with funerals, wakes, sickness and sorrow. But it's also been an incredible month filled with joy, laughter, kid's hugs and ice cream.

As tough as it may be, today I'm choosing to see the roses hidden among the tangle of thorns. Today I'm choosing joy over disappointment, happiness over frustration, elation over pain. Today I'm telling life, "Yeah, you tried to knock me down, but I'm still breathing so you better bet I'm getting back up."

Hidden Lessons

During my first year of college, I learned an incredible amount of stuff about the mind, body, and soul. I can now spew some pretty nifty facts about social psychology, western civilization, english literature and several other random topics. I spent countless hours pouring over my books (or just skimming) and drafting perfect essays (or just throwing them together), but even with all that I learned inside the classroom, I can honestly that I learned the most outside of the classroom.

The hard thing about learning outside of the classroom is that there is no syllabus, schedule or lesson plan; instead you must seek out opportunities to learn. While my classes taught be about life, my friends and peers taught me how to live life, and how to love it. Below is a list, (half-serious/half-light-hearted) about some of the things that I learned this year.

1) How to hug a tall person. Yes, you read that right. After about a month of school I was told that I needed to learn how to hug properly (and thus conquer my fear of hugs), and "hugging lessons" (and laughter) ensued. I am proud to say that I've conquered my fear of hugs, and now I'll even smile while I give you one.

2) How to do homework while at the gym. I'm glad that I learned how to master the art of using the elliptical and reading a book. It took a few times dropping my glasses, books and phones in order to perfect my form, but it's a skill that's much needed for people like me who just can't seem to find enough time in the day to do everything.

3) How to eat salad with a spoon, and yogurt with a knife. My schedule doesn't pause just because they are out of utensils at the Dining Hall, so you learn to make do. (Don't worry a fork and spoon are still preferred).

4) How to avoid the elements. After one too many days with sopping wet shoes, you learn how to get from one end of campus to the other without ever really going outside. It takes some extra time, but dry (frizz-free) hair is worth any amount of time. You also find some neat hallways and random classrooms while you explore.

5) How to laugh at myself. I never realized just how funny my license picture was until I saw 60 copies of it on a friend's wall as a Birthday prank. Now I simply have to strike "The license pose" to get an instant laugh out of my friends. Seriously what is with my face?

6) How to be wrong. As hard as pride is to swallow, humility is much more becoming on any individual. Trust me, it's much better to have plans on a Friday night than to be right in a pointless discussion. While being right on a test is super important, a sign of a true friend is letting the other person be right (whether or not they really are). At the end of the day the fact up for debate probably won't effect your friendship, but constant bickering will.

7) How to pay attention. While taking notes in class is important (seriously learn how to do that people), taking mental notes of your friends is way more beneficial. I love listening to my friends talk about what they love, and often randomly ask things, like their favorite type of donut (chocolate glazed and jelly) or candy bar (dark chocolate Mikly Way and mint Aero). While knowing it is important, it's best to put that knowledge to good use, particularly during finals week, specifically with Tim Hortons. Seriously getting someone their favorite donut is a sure-fire way to make any day better.

8) How to be quiet. Sometimes the void doesn't need to be filled with sound. I'm learning to be okay with that.

9) How to be a woman of few words. I'm learning that not everything needs an explanation or justification.

10)How to be me. While some people say that they "need to find themselves" at college, I think that it's less about finding a new you, and finding the you buried deep with in. While high school is a place you are easily defined (athlete, nerd, geek, prep etc.), college is a place where you decide what you will be defined as. Rarely do people do a complete 180° while at school, instead they just choose which part of them will be their defining feature. Once I stopped caring about how people would label my style, I found out what I've really loved to wear all along. The me that I uncovered loves skinny colored pants, sweaters with shirts underneath and dresses.

Obviously I haven't learned all there is out there, but I can't wait to head back to school and hit the books to learn more. Okay, mostly I can't wait to see all of my friends and start my new job, but hey the books thing is kinda cool too. I hope you got a laugh out of this list, but I also hope it made you think about what life lessons you still need to learn, I know I did. Learning doesn't stop when the books close, and I'm sure happy my friends are always willing to put in some overtime to help teach me (there's a lot left to do).

The Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Pancakes of Life

If you are like me, sometimes you set really high expectations for yourself. I mean really high expectations. Like on a scale of 1-10 you have about .4 of wiggle room. The great thing about high expectations, is that when you meet your expectations, you feel pretty super. After all they were pretty high. The downside, is that when you don't quite reach those goals, you sorta feel crummy (to put it politely).

Now you have to understand, I was the kid that would wake up before my mom on a Saturday morning with a picture in my head. I would spend all morning trying to get the thing from my head to the paper. My mom laughs about the fact that by the time she would wake up I would always have a pile of crumpled up papers around me. The pictures in my head would never transfer exactly the way I imagined, but I usually did a pretty great job trying. Each attempt would have at least one part right, but I just couldn't rest until the picture as a whole was perfect. The problem was: it never would be. I would spend all morning working, but have nothing to show.

While the pile of crumpled up papers around me used to be cute, I've grown up, and now it's a problem. I'm starting to realize (because of a lot of great people) that I still do this to myself. Countless times in life I "crumple up" my failed attempts, not willing to look for individual successes, but instead, focusing too much on the whole. I let my expectations be my only guide on what's success and what's failure.

You always hear people talk about that one moment that really changed their thinking. Well today I had one of those moments. This morning something as simple as making pancakes made me realize that often our tiny "failures" don't really take away from the big picture.

If you've ever seen me cook you know that it's sorta of organized chaos. Okay who am I kidding, it's pure chaos and since I was pressed for time, I searched up a recipe. I followed the recipe... sort of. I used whole wheat flour (instead of white), almond milk (instead of homemade buttermilk), cinnamon (instead of "pumpkin pie spice"). I eyeballed the sugar and I may have omitted baking soda. My assistant may or may have not poured AN ENTIRE BAG of chocolate chips into the pancakes. To say that the pancakes looked like the picture would be a lie. But guess what? We devoured them. All day I was hoping that there were some left. I may not have made the blogger's "Fluffy Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Pancakes," but they were our perfect creations. My pancakes may not have turned out how I envisioned, but they sure made me happy. Stick with me on how this applies to life.

Today as I finished teaching kids at camp, I breathed a sigh of relief. The train wreck was over.  I stuttered, stopped, rambled and fumbled through my lesson, sang off key and tripped more than once. The image in my mind of how today would go was nothing like reality. I was immediately gripped by a wave a shame. I had failed. My expectations were high, and I fell short of them.

But just as I wanted to hang my head in shame, a little girl stood up, grabbed my arm, squeezed it tight and said, "You are my favorite counselor." A smile not only covered my face, but it traveled down to my core. Despite my obvious imperfections, when she looked at me, she saw something special. She saw my passion, my enthusiasm, my joy and my hope. She didn't have a list of what I needed to do in order to be a success, she had an idea on how she needed to feel. Her huge smile was a clear indication of her enjoyment.

In life there will be times when we fail by the standards of most. I "lost" a lot during high school sports. In my mind:  Effort was appreciated, but it wasn't rewarded, victory was. I honestly wish I would have realized sooner that it wasn't the standings, or the outcome of the game that people would remember, but my attitude. They would remember the passion I poured into my attempt. They would remember the way I loved on my teammates, the way I cared for my enemy, the way I respected the officials. They would remember ME not what I did. 

In life, it is so easy to get so caught up in the big picture, that you start to look past the details. I want you to see little success in what would otherwise be called a big failure. I want you to remember that even when it seems that every chance of success is gone, if you pour your heart into what you do, you can never truly fail.  

Family: Love runs thicker than Blood

I know that the real saying is, "Blood runs thicker than water!" but work with me here.

The saying means that when push comes to shove, your family has your back. You know, on television shows it's the reason the big brother beats up all the bullies picking on his little sister. It's the reason that the cousin takes the fall when they all get busted. While I know the saying is true (that family should be their for each other) I have a bit of a problem because blood does not define a family, love does.

A few weeks back, I saw a little boy passed out on his father, exhausted from a long day of playing. The son had no hesitations as he nestled up closely to his dad, his head seeming to fit perfectly on his father's chest, and the dad had no trouble perfectly wrapping his arms around him and snuggling close. Just by seeing this, you could tell that this man loved his son more than anything, and that this son trusted his father as his hero. And as moving as the whole scene was (I may have teared up a little), perhaps the most incredible thing to me, was that they were not a father and son by blood, but by love. 

It really got me thinking about the fact that you are not born into a family, but you become a part of one. For many people, the family that they are born into becomes the family that they grow into. But for some, their family becomes the people who surround them, love them, and support them, even when their "blood family" is long gone.

I feel so blessed to have been born into an amazing family, but I feel even more blessed to have been adopted into an equally incredible one. While we may be strangers by the "law," you would never be able to tell that by looking at a family picture. Seriously, don't we look pretty great?

When I tell people about my family, usually they are caught off guard by two things: 1) I have a different last name than my parents. 2) How much of an age difference there is between my sisters and I. More than once I have been innocently asked, "Are they your real sisters?" I know the question comes from pure motives, but it still cuts deep. How could they not be my real sisters? I rocked them when they were first born. I helped them learn to swim, run, bike and play. I've held their hands while they had their cuts bandaged.I yell the loudest at their games and cheer the longest at their successes. I've cried, prayed and laughed with them. To me the fact that I've done life with them, far outweighs the fact that we have different fathers. 

As I've matured, I've come to realize more and more what family really is. I remember crying after my grandfather passed away, thinking about how hard it would be to fill the void that he left. It kind of shocked me when the thought crossed through my mind that he wasn't "technically" my grandfather. We shared no blood, and our family tree was likely not connected for centuries. Yet this man joked with me, spoiled me and cared for me. He came to get me when I called at 4 am and he assured me that the monsters under my bed wouldn't get me. He didn't "have" to love me, but he chose to make me a part of his life. He made me his family. 

Over the years, I've been so blessed to be part of so many other incredible families. I've been welcomed into many different homes, churches and groups. I've shared meals, gone on adventures and on more than one occasion have embarrassed myself. I've been brought to movies, games and restaurant, but most importantly: I've been taken into many lives. You get to be a part of something incredible, where you laugh with the new family's kids, you swim with the cousins, and flip around with the grandkids. You share memories and funny stories, and no matter how long you are together for, you share love. 

So while I was born into the Hobbs/Grivois family, I've become the part of so many more. I feel so blessed to not only be loved by my home family, but by my college family, my camp family, my church family, my best friend's family... and well the list could go on forever. You see family isn't the people you share blood with, it's the people you share life with. 

"Taylor will you play with me?"

It's the question that every adult dreads after a long day of being all adulty (School, work, whatever).

"Will you play with me?" 

I know that during most of high school I hated to hear the words. I mean after a long day of "learning," clubs and sports, I only had one thought on my mind: Sleep. Well, I mean sleep eventually, but first probably texting friends and facebook, but I mean I definitely wasn't thinking about playing with toddlers. My whole thought process changed before my senior year though. I realized that it would likely be my last complete summer home for a while. The thought of having a new normal really makes you rethink your priorities, and I realized that mine were waaaay to "me-centered." To combat my selfish attitude about my time, and to make sure I soaked up every possible minute with my sisters, I made a vow: 

 I would say yes to play EVERY SINGLE TIME.

 It didn't matter where, when or what, I would drop everything to play with my sisters every single time that they asked. Did take me longer to do chores? Did I miss out on some much needed suntanning time? Did I realize that I was a little out of shape? Yes, but I can honestly say that it was the best summer ever. I laughed harder, tickled better and cuddled longer with my sisters than I ever had before. I grew up that summer by being a kid again. 

Unfortunately, I had to grow older, and for the past two years that means less time at home with my sisters, but that summer experiment is still with me. I understand that I can't stop the aging process; I have to mature, become more responsible, and do things I don't always want to do (aka work/file taxes/pay for college). That's inevitable. What isn't necessary, is that I give up the joy of play.

After that summer, I made a vow of sorts in order to make sure that I never lose the child-like wonder that I have cherished for so long. I'm sharing it with you because I think that in our fast-paced, success-based society it is easy to forget the joy that we once had as children. It's easy to care more about work, school and toys than the people that we are blessed with. So here it is, my 5-part vow to be a child every chance I get. 

I vow to...

1) Always JUMP into a pool. Never scoop to feel the water, never take the stairs, never slowly crawl over the edge: Jump. 

2) Always chase butterflies (usually moths). It doesn't matter if I'm not wearing butterfly-chasing appropriate clothes. I run. I trip. I jump. I flail my arms around like a mad-man. I clasp my hands tight and I don't let that little guy go. 

3) Always have a snowball fight. I can never put a snow-ball fight on hold to go put on warmer clothes. If I am hit by a snowball as I get out of a car carrying a full load, I will turn around, put my stuff down, bend over, scoop up a hand-full of snow, and start running. 

4) Always give piggy backs. There is no excuse for not giving a piggy back (unless I have a signed note from my doctor. 

5) Always laugh. Sometimes kids' jokes aren't actually funny. Usually my first thought isn't, "That's hilarious!" Usually it's, "Huh?" But I will laugh, a deep heart-filled laugh at every joke I am told by a kid. 

So with these vows I promise to Always Play. I promise that no matter how inconvenient the timing is, no matter how gross the game is and no matter how tired I am, I will always make time for play. 

So yesterday did I rip off of my socks and shoes to jump into a disgusting little pond, to wade knee-deep in filthy water on the hunt for frogs? Darn tootin' I did. Why? Well I had 6 little girls who really wanted "Aunt Taylor" to play with them.  And did I carry a giggling kid way farther than I probably should of (my back is killing me)? Yup! Did I run up a hill at full speed? You bet. And did I jump in the pool right after I had finally dried off? Of Course. Why? Because no matter how old I get, playing will never grow old. 

The best GPS ever

It's been a while since I've written a post and most of you are probably wondering where I have been. I would like to start off by putting the rumors to rest:
1) I was not in jail.
2) I was not abducted by aliens.
3) I did not become a hermit in the Northern Canadian wilderness.

I was actually gone to Camp Good News for Christian Youth In Action Training School. Basically it's a place where around 120 kids from all over come to learn about how to minister to children. This was actually my 5th time going to CYIA, but it was my first time being a leader and cabin supervisor.

Being a cabin supervisor meant that I led nightly devotions, and on the last night we got to talking about seeking God's will for your life and how that looks. It got me thinking about all of the things I wish I would have known when I was in their place, beginning to think about what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I told them a bit about my college story, and it seemed to be an encouragement to some of them, so I hope it is for you too! I wish I could say my story is perfect, but really it's in the imperfections that you see God the most.

My story actually begins with CYIA 6 years ago. On the 4th day of the program, you go out and find strangers on the street to share the Gospel with. From Day 1 I fell in love with this "Open Air Evangelism." I absolutely love it, and year after year I was told that I was pretty good at it, and was told year after year that I should be a missionary. Eventually I just assumed that it was God's plan for my life. I never really asked Him, but hey, I mean these people seemed to be in tune with God's will for my life, so I figured I would go with it. My answer to the question "What to you want to be?" was "missionary" for a few years, but something just didn't feel right. While I loved doing it, at the end of the day I never pictured myself spending the rest of my life doing it. 

That's when I decided to bring God in on my planning process. Listen, the people who told me to be a missionary were great people who know me pretty well and they may have thought that they had my best interest in mind, but God has them beat by a mile. He not only knows the number of hairs on my head, but He actually knows my future (Jeremiah 29:11). Once God got in on my planning process, things changed drastically. I started listening to His soft whisper above the deafening roar of those around me. It was then that I realized that God was not calling me to full time missions, but wanted me to minister to others in a "secular profession."

It was scary to think about how many people I would disappoint by going into *gasp* psychology, but at the end of the day the most important people in my life did not care what field I went into, only that I was following God's call. So often we are scared to pursue what we really feel led by God to do, simply because it's not in the plan that others have for us. It was tough to swallow all of the "Oh..."s and "Hmmms" of disapproval that became all too common. Over time however, I began to have confidence in my career choice, because I knew that God, the Creator of the universe, had hand-picked the path for me.

Fast forward a year and it was August 2014. I was laying in my bed panicking about Cedarville. What had I gotten myself into?  I mean there was NO WAY that I could do it. Honestly, the finances were just not working out properly. I remember talking with my parents and we came to the conclusion that if God truly wanted me at Cedarville, He would provide a miracle. It's pretty easy to say that, but learning to trust in Him, well that was a struggle. My parents and I were praying earnestly for direction, and when we got to school we found it. I remember my Dad looking at me and saying, "Taylor, I just have a peace that this is where God wants you." By seeking His plan, and trusting that He could overcome earthly barriers, we were able to find peace in the midst of chaos. What seemed impossible now seemed perfectly planned.

Once I got out there and settled in, I was scared out of my mind. Not for the first few weeks, I mean it was like a vacation. But after the first month... I mean how was I supposed to survive so far away from home? Why was I in Ohio again? Seriously had I lost my mind? Then a dear friend reminded me that I hadn't simply gone there on a whim, I had followed God's direction. God provided strength and on I went. Even when it seemed impossible to stay on time with all of my assignments, He helped me push on. When I was worried that my grades wouldn't be where I wanted them, He provided that extra .01 to push them ahead (seriously it's amazing). Time and time again He helped me succeed beyond my own human ability. 

Finally springtime rolled around which meant that financial aid packages became available. I saw mine and my initial reaction was to laugh. Like seriously, I don't think they really can assume that my family will give THAT MUCH money to my education. While I initially laughed, I soon cried. Quite a bit actually. No money = no Cedarville. So I started looking at other schools that seemed to be a "better choice" but nothing seemed right. I spent a few days looking, but mostly I prayed a ton. I couldn't understand why God would drag me out to Ohio, only to desert me after one year. I mean hello, I had made connections, I had voted for next year's class officers, I had gotten a Tour Guide spot, I was pretty locked in. This was where I wanted to stay. I know that God usually speaks in a soft whisper, but this time He was shouting, "TRUST ME!" So I did, and slowly the obstacles because more manageable. The old saying is trustworthy "If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.

Anyway I guess that all of this is to say that sometimes finding God's will is a bit like using a GPS. Your GPS has your final destination in mind from the moment you begin, but unless you are perfect, as you get going things start to happen.

Sometimes you try to listen to your friend who SWEARS that there is a short cut up ahead, so you take the turn. Occasionally they are right, but more often than not you end up going down a dirt road for 5 miles. Then, you do what you should have done all along and listen to the GPS which gets you back on track.  It's so easy to just buy into whatever ideas others may have for your future. Even if people think they have your best interest in mind, they may not really know. The only way to truly know is to trust the original Source. 

Sometimes you get Maple Street and Maple Ave confused and well, that's never good. So what do you do? Well, you stop and reorient yourself and then carry on your merry way. Sometimes we start off on the wrong path, but there is no shame in humbling ourselves and admitting our mistake. God will provide direction but you have to be willing to look at it.

Sometimes your GPS is a bit outdated and you keep going in circles. So after your trip, you plug it in to your computer and get it up to speed. While you might think you know God's will enough to follow it perfectly, you should still check back in often to stay up-to-date. 

Sometimes it seems like you are going down an impossible road, and you begin wondering if your GPS has Portland, Maine and Portland, Oregon confused. You wonder how you could possibly make it. After all, it's scary to trust a piece of technology. But in the end you make it. It's scary to trust God, but just like a GPS doesn't just tell you your destination and then go blank, God doesn't just leave us to wander. If He is really calling you to go somewhere, He will remove any obstacles in your way.

Honestly, it's no less scary to trust God, except God isn't a GPS. He doesn't make mistakes. He won't be confused by the random bypasses in Columbus. He won't lead you down a dead end only to yell "RECALCULATING" at you 10 times. Just when all hope seems lost, He'll show up and provide you with the knowledge, strength, or skill you never knew you had. So yes, it's scary, but remember that if He's calling you to do something, He'll give you the tools to complete it. Sometimes it's encouragement from a stranger, sometimes its nailing an audition, sometimes it's acing a test. No matter what the obstacles may be, God's got you covered.

The 3 Hardest Words to Say

Lately I've been doing a ton of driving (I've put about 3000 miles on my car since I got her), and with driving comes a lot of thinking (and singing at the top of my lungs*). Anyway, I really enjoy listening to talk radio and recently I was listening to an interview with the daughter of one of the Charleston victims. I can honestly say that what she said will probably stick with me forever. 

Do you know what she told the sick man who killed 9 members of their close-knit church family? She said "We don't have room in our heart for hate, so we will choose to forgive." Just a quick, one sentence blurb was enough to control my thoughts for the rest of the weekend, as I instantly began to think about what true forgiveness is, and more importantly what it isn't. 

Over the past year I've had a lot of, shall we say practice, forgiving. It was clearly a message that I needed to learn. You know one of those times that you read something about forgiveness, watch something about forgiveness and then hear something about forgiveness all within two days. You really can't ignore that. I always thought that forgiveness was just that short "You are forgiven" sentence that you muttered after someone grumbles a half-hearted apology, but during my first year at school, I learned that forgiveness is a hard journey that only begins with these words. 

When some one wrongs you, you are hurt. You feel the pain of sadness, but lurking below the surface is the silent monster of anger. You are angry at how they make you feel. You are angry at how they treat you. YOU ARE ANGRY.  The problem is that we often try to advance on our journey of forgiveness without realizing that getting over the anger is the first step. It's like putting Neosporin on a splinter without first removing the chuck of wood. It won't heal. In order to get rid of the fruit of the problem you need to get to the root of the problem.

This year I dealt with a lot of anger, but the problem is that I don't think the people I was angry at and hurt by even had a clue. They probably didn't know that some nights I would get so worked up, I would cry myself to sleep, or that I often dreaded interactions, as I felt like I always left feeling worse. So how to you get rid of anger when the person doesn't even know you are angry? I come from a family that talks things out, so I had no clue how to have one-sided healing.

The way I did it (as I do most things) was with a pencil and a pad of paper. I had to get everything out, even if my paper was the only one that ever heard. I sat by the fire and let the flames jump, both in the fire pit and in my heart. I worked well for me and I hope it might help someone else.

You get real angry. You get real fired up. You let the tears roll. You say EVERYTHING you ever thought. You talk about what you missed out on or gave up because of them. You write down how they make you feel. You write down the truth: You are so ANGRY that you HATE them. Your hand flies across the page and you realize that maybe you had more emotions pent up than you thought. It's so easy to focus on the pain, but doing that is like taking off on 6th, your engine may go wild, but you go nowhere (Surprisingly, I don't have any experience doing this). So what do you do now? You do the hardest thing in the forgiveness process: You let go.

You let the letter drop into the fire, disgusted with the fact that it is hate not lead that fills the page. You watch as the edges brown and the words melt into a pile of useless ashes. You cry, because you know that you have to let go of the hurt that has become your close friend. You let your emotions become like the paper, slowly catching, flaring up, and then dying quickly. You will stop fueling this fire. How?

Sure you could just forget it, ignore it, and pretend it ever happened. "Forgive and forget" after all. But that doesn't really make sense to me. If you rip out a bunch of weeds and do nothing to replace them, nature will take over. Sure you might get some grass growing back eventually, but you also run the risk of the weeds popping back up. So? You replace it. You plant a beautiful flower which will blossom year after year.


Even if no one can pinpoint what changed on your yard, they know something is different, but more importantly you appreciate how much it has bettered your life. Unfortunately you can't "plant" emotions like you can plant lupines. You have to work for it. And this one is awfully difficult to cultivate.

                                    Love. 

Who knew it's not just for Valentine's Day, but everyday? Love is often symbolized by hearts and roses, but what does love look like when it comes to forgiveness? It looks like being nice, even when you think they deserve your wrath. It means that you give them something you have, even when you think you deserve it. It's about being kind even when you don't feel appreciated. See a trend? Love is all about learning how to stop thinking about how YOU feel when YOU love on them, and starting to think about how THEY will benefit from it. It will be tough. You will get tired of pouring into them, when they don't give you so much as a drop. But, love doesn't need to be received to be given, so you keep going.

There is one Bible verse that kept me going, even when I had every earthly reason to quit. Galatians 6:9 "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest IF WE DO NOT GIVE UP" (Emphasis mine). It be like a farmer ripping up his crops because he doesn't see anything one day after planting. Instead he keeps working in the fields, getting them ready for when he finally sees the green sprouts peeking through, and even if his crops don't come up that year, he doesn't just up throw away the work clothes and put on a suit, leaving farming forever. He keeps working, because he knows that someday his HARD WORK will pay off. Even when his crops don't give back right away, he keeps pouring in his resources. Love is like that. Real love doesn't only show itself when it is well received. Real love keeps showing up, even ESPECIALLY when it isn't welcome.

So yes, I've been hurt, but rather than wake up with an ache in my heart and a pit in my stomach, I wake up with a spring in my step and a smile on my face. Because love is a lot easier to carry around than anger. After all, with all the love I have in my heart, do I really have any room for hate in my heart?


*** This is my formal warning that if you are a passenger in a car I am driving I will sing... loudly... the whole time...***

The Great Unknown (aka The Future)

It seems like it’s been forever since I’ve written a post, but you know what they say “time makes the heart grow fonder.” Okay, no one actually says that, except me, and maybe some other weird people out there (we can be friends).  

            Anyway, in my last post I promised that I would share my tentative future plans with you. I say tentative because… well I’m a teenage girl (not for long) so my career aspirations can change in the blink of an eye. I think I can safely say that I’m actually pretty sure about this one though. ***

            I have decided to drop out of Cedarville and go to the Great North to pursue my true calling of selling ice to Eskimos.     (If you have never heard that expression before, or you don’t know how it applies to me, you have likely never heard me try to sell you something.)

            In all seriousness though, there is a career path that God has been truly laying on my heart lately. I’ve been praying for guidance, and I still really feel that it is where God is guiding me. After finishing up at Cedarville in 2017, I want to pursue my PhD in Clinical Psychology and then specialize in military trauma treatment.  

            First off, let me just say that yes, it will take me a ton of years of schooling to get two little letters in front of my name (That’s D-r just to specify). What amazes me, is that most people’s first reaction to me saying that I plan to become a Doctor is, “Wow, that’s a lot of school.” Sometimes I try to act surprised, like I had no clue,  so if this has happened to you and you found it offensive, I am sorry that I can’t always control my sarcasm, but you have to understand how often I hear that. I would just love for ONE person to say to me  “Wow, you must be really determined to follow your dreams!” or maybe “I bet it will be worth it.” Please, just don’t remind me of how long it will take. I think that if you love something and feel passionate about it, well, then the extra years of education will only make you love it more. 

            Second off, if it seems like a super specific specialization, well that’s true, but it’s been one that has slowly come together over the past 12 years. I recently found a paper from 1^st grade, and apparently I wanted to do psychology back then, except I couldn’t (and still can’t) spell that, so I wrote something pretty close. During my sophomore and junior year, I was really considering enlisting in the Air Force, but ultimately I felt that God was calling me to get my education first. (I just wanted to mention that I even trained a ton to be in perfect shape so that I could go to basic before senior year, somehow I have lost the art of the perfect push up since then).  This year during the Missions Conference at Cedarville,I  finally got direction on how to combine the two. I realized that God didn’t necessarily need me to be a missionary, He had something else in the works and that was serving our Service members.

         Finally, what does this fancy specialty even me? Well according to Webster… just kidding, I won’t be cliché (this time). What I want to do is specialize in how we prevent, treat and manage the mental effects of war (such as PTSD). I am not sure if I want to do it with an organization, think Wounded Warrior Project type, or with the Military directly. I mean I am a little biased to a certain branch, but I will keep it secret so that I don't have to hear all of the ChAIR-Force jokes. Awww shucks I gave it away. 

       Overall I can't help but be excited to see where my path will lead me, but so far, this is the map I'm following. Obviously there are some variables, like finding a great guy (the search is on), starting a family (I have the names picked), and all of the other crazy stuff life might bring (please let it be a book deal). I don't know about you, but I can't wait to see what life brings. 

            *** Disclaimer: Plans and goals are subject to change and are at the mercy of the Ultimate Planner. Jeremiah 29:11. Results may vary***