vivir mi vida

"Yo quiero estar contigo

Vivir contigo

Bailar contigo

Tener contigo una noche loca

Ayyy besar tu boca!

Bailando amor oohhh es que se me va el dolor."

As of now I am in Rocklin, California.

I am writing from a lonely Starbucks feeling incredibly displaced.

This is not home.

I think Mexico is home.

This isn't just some knee jerk reaction to leaving some of the best friends I have ever had, some of the most mouth watering food I have ever tasted and some of the craziest yet down to earth nights I have ever danced away...

I really mean it.

Creo que Mexico es el lugar mas cerca de mi corazon. La gente que me dan una bienvendia como nunca he experimentado antes...es mi casa.

The mix of people that I have grown to love and live in community with span from all sides of the globe. I have been blessed to fall in love with so many incredible individuals. 

It really is beautiful how a group of people with incredibly different cultures, religions, language, histories, traditions, ect can come together in the name of adventure and do just that. 

The last week has been one of the most amazing weeks of my life. It was filled with ridiculous adventures, dancing all night long, meals with friends, CHAPALA, late night movies (that we totally stayed awake for...), ice skating, carousel riding, exploring, we should be sleeping but instead we will embark on loco shenanigans... these memories will last forever. I know that when I think back on the last week my heart will leap for joy and begin to sing Vivir Mi Vida.

Unfortunately, I know that after my heart finishes that stupidly catchy tune, it will sink.

That last week was easily one of the hardest weeks of my life. 

I have never said goodbyes that broke me as much as these ones did. 

I have always had tons of friends. The whole making friends thing isn't too difficult for me.

The feeling of belonging though, that's a different story.

Ever since I was small I have been surrounded by tons of people but felt like a stranger.

I don't know if it's my own insecurities playing a mean joke on me or the fact that I just kind of hover from place to place never really putting my feet down.

Regardless, the feeling of permanency in any aspect of my life has been lacking.

That is, until I met these people.

I belong.

Sadly, we will never be together again.

Some are staying and for that I am incredibly thankful, but the majority need to return to their respective countries.

It hurts.

It really does.

I am not alone in this feeling.

I talked with several of my friends who all said the same thing...

Mexico has become home,

not because of the country in and of itself, but because of the family that we have developed there.

Right before I went to the airport I took a walk with a friend and when it was time to say goodbye he looked me in the eyes and simply said

"I don't like this."

I don't like this. 

I don't like this one bit. 

In fact, I hate this.

My heart is shattered into about 25 pieces... one for every person that I have given my heart to and will probably never see again.

Another one of my friends said,

"Alright, who's getting married? Someone really should do it soon because then we can all be together and once again MAKE PARTY."

(The direct translation to "Let's have a party or let's party from Spanish to English is "Make party"... It kills me. Every time.)

Maybe when we make party we can also make selfies to remember the reunion.

This next period of transition is going to be hell.

I am already feeling it.

I really have no desire to do anything...

that is, I have no desire to do anything except for return to Mexico,

right now.

Leoni, Raphael, Jasiel, Kerry, Jordi, Ardaldo, Judith, Julia, Karin, Kaori, Itzel, Leon, Lucas, Victor, Fabian, Cris, Brenda, Maria and so many more.... 

You have my heart. 

I really wish that words could do this justice.

They really can't.

Pictures might help... (*cough* Rapha *cough*)

I guess this is it for now. 

I'm sure that I will have more eloquent words to say once my brain processes and properly mourns the loss of this beautiful life.  

Les amo a todos.

Have fun. Be safe. Stay out of the kitchen. ;)

thanks for your abnormalities

Thankfulness. 

That's what today is all about.

I love the tradition of setting aside a space to be with friends and family and to remember all that you have in your life to be thankful for. 

Yes, I know that everyday you should acknowledge what you have to be thankful for, but there is something about intentionality that is special.

Intentionality changes lives.

Or at least, it has changed mine. 

I have blogged in the past about those significant adults in my life who have shown me agape love.

The ones who had nothing to gain yet made sacrifices for me.

I'm really thankful.

Consequently, I'm a fan of the collective intentionality that accompanies Thanksgiving.

Today I would like to set aside time and space to say a special thank you to my parents. 

They're pretty frickin fantastic. 

Mom and dad... you guys are incredible individuals.

You have raised me in a counter-cultural way and for that I can never thank you enough.

You have taught me what it means to be a strong, independent and determined woman of God.

You have not only shown me how to take control of my life and declare my own person, you have taught me how to do that for the purpose of pouring all of me into the lives of the people around me.

I kind of thought that this train of though was the norm.

Ya know, the giving to others both tangibly and emotionally thing...

it's not.

Yeah, definitely not normal.

A few days ago I had the assignment to give a presentation regarding my life and the purpose behind my decided course of study,

I threw it together quickly (because let's be honest... a presentation about me doesn't exactly require research or study) and then presented it to my class.

They were dumbfounded.

So many questions... people just couldn't wrap their brains around the concept of doing whatever it takes to love.

Mom and dad, thank you so much.

I am so extremely privileged to have been raised in such a way that challenges the status quo. 

So Momma... you are one fierce woman. 

Your strength and independence inspires me and Madison is so many ways.

You taught me how to throw the metaphorical middle finger towards those who judge.

You're also super feisty and sassy.

It's great.

Scratch that.. it's fergilicious.

You don't take shit from anyone and that's impressive.

Along with your incredibly strong character traits come incredibly compassionate character traits.

You showed me the meaning of selflessness as I watched you give up everything to be Madison and my number one fan and encourager. 

I watched you spend all day working with your students and was amazed.

Your day with them did not end in the classroom.

You built relatinships with them and poured so much intentionality and genuine love into them...

You taught me how to love the difficult.

You have this knack for working with kids that nobody else can handle.

I watched your heart break time and time again for the lives of your students.

I also watched you take that broken heart and use it to repair theirs.

You repetitively let yourself be broken in order to make the necessary sacrifices to build them up.

Mom, you're a hero.

You're definitely my hero, but I can't claim ownership of this admiration.

There are so many kids out there that have had their lives changed by you.

They are also thankful.

Well dad, now it's your turn.

You are the real Mr. Incredible.

You, like mom, have given your life to others.

I can't imagine how incredibly taxing your work is.

I did only a fraction of it for one summer and I can attest that it was completely exhausting.

The good kind of exhausted though... like the glutton for punishment kind.

Like the I've literally spent the last 150 hours with middle schoolers yet all I want to do is spend more time with middle schoolers kind of thing...

But anyways

Dad, Daddy-O, Paps, Mr. Commissioner,

you live by example. Words are not needed, yet when you give them they are laced with wisdom.

You also have this weirdly awesome ability to create absolutely crazy, unsafe, intense yet doable, competitive, wacky, and super fun games that somehow can be translated into this deep, moral and spiritual lesson. 

It's seriously impressive.

You should probably write a book about it or something.

#bestseller

Keegan and I tried that whole game creation thing once... we came up with "a head of lettuce".

#subpar 

When you are preaching, God flows through you.

You are extraordinarily gifted in the communication department.

Your words hit hearts hard and people never really recover.

Point in case: the fat cow sermon. ;)

You not only connect to people from behind the pulpit though, your counseling skills are magnificent. You can connect with people with such ease and people are quick to let you in.

The number of people whom you have impacted in your life is innumerable. 

We can start with this girl though...

your faith has impacted me in so many ways. Because of you I have a raw faith.

I'm not the pastor's kid who has all of the answers,

I'm the pastor's kid who knows that she doesn't know shit.

Well that's not entirely true... I know the breadth and power of God's love. 

For that I am so thankful.

Dad, thank you.

My parents are really special.

If you don't know them, you really should.

That is anyway, if you don't mind your life being changed in radical ways.

My parents are abnormal. 

For that, I am thankful.

breathe in, breathe out, remember.

I have written of death in the past.

I guess I think about it a lot,

not in a creepy way, 

but in a pensive manner.

Out of curiosity, I looked up the definition of "death".

"The action or fact of dying or being killed; the end of the life of a person or organism. The permanent ending of vital processes in a cell or tissue."

So scientific.

So mathematical.

So... calculated.

Death of the body is inevitable.

We all know that.

We are not built to live forever.

Things that are built, constructed, formed... they have an end.

What about things that are breathed?

"Then the Lord God formed the man from the dust of the ground. He breathed the breath of life into the man's nostrils and the man became a living person."

Genesis 2:7 

The body is formed.

The life is breathed.

This breath is special.

This breath lasts forever.

I mean, come on, it is God's breath after all.

I reckon that it's quite powerful.

This breath, 

the breath breathed into your lungs by none other than the Lord of Lords, 

is not uniquely yours. 

Sorry to break it to you, but this breath is for everyone.

This breath is for the homeless man on the corner that you pass by every day.

This breath is for the single mom using food stamps to support her family.

This breath is for the young African American you switch to the other side of the road to avoid.

This breath is for the billionaire businessman living a life of luxury while from his penthouse he can see young women being forced to sell their bodies.

This breath is for your mother.

This breath is for your best friend.

This breath is for the barista who knows just exactly how much cream to put in your late.

This breath is for your favorite musician, author, painter. 

This breath lives.

We die.

Our breath, however, does not.

This weekend I celebrated El Dia de los Muertos.

It was beautiful.

Mexicans know how to celebrate life.

They understand that though the body dies, the breath does not.

They take the time to remember their loved ones who are no longer physically present.

They take time to share memories.

They laugh.

They cry.

They build. 

They build these incredible altars.

Now, before you freak out, they are not worshiping these altars.

They do not worship the dead.

They appreciate them.

These altars are constructed with the things that were most important, or best represent the life that was lived by whomever the altar is construed to honor. 

My host mother showed me a beautiful altar built to honor her sister who died last year from cancer.

She wept tears of joy as she explained the particulars.

She would point to a food and say 

"Hemos tratado de hacerlo al igual que lo hizo... pero nadie puede cocinar como mi hermana."

"We tried to make it just like she did... but nobody can cook like my sister."

Through this beautiful representation of bodily life she was able to explain to me the spirit of her beloved sister.

Her passions, dreams desires... they are all remembered and appreciated. 

It really is incredible.

It is no coincidence that this day falls during the Catholic "All Saints Day."

This celebration of the dead in Mexico can be traced back for close to 4,000 years.

It used to be a much longer festival of sorts, but when the Catholic church came to the Americas, they combined the two in attempt to convert the indigenous people to Catholicism.

Though it is sad that the lengthy celebration has been lost, I appreciate the semi-combination.

It gives me an opportunity to celebrate the breath of these people in a very tangible way.

The sainthood, as viewed in the many branches of the protestant church, includes all believers who are no longer with us.

This means that on this day I am given the space to both celebrate and mourn the life and loss of many in my life.

I can build metaphorical altars as a means of remembrance.

Now, Gram Anne, your altar:

These altars have three levels

3. Heaven

2. Honoring objects from the life

1. The grave

3. This level would include a beautiful photo of Anne, an ornate cross, and possibly some incense. 

2. Here I would include a book of fairy tales,  home made caramel and some birks.

1. I would place here many candles and possibly a painting of a headstone. 

Gram Anne, I mourn your death.

But Gram Anne, I celebrate your life.

I celebrate your breath.

You used your breath to love me deeply.

You used your breath to fly yourself up to the Harb and go trick or treating with me dressed as Mad Madam Mimm.

You used your breath to record your voice reading fairy tales so that it was you that I fell asleep listening to as a child.

You used your breath to share your faith with me.

This holy breath,

this life that is breathed,

you used it well.

I honor you for that.

____________

May we all use our breath well,

for our breath will last forever. 

"One God and Father of all,

who is over all, in all, and living through all."

Ephesians 4:6

la alegría es una elección

I'm tired.

I would guess that over the past few weeks I've averaged about three hours of sleep per night.

I'm sick.

This is probably results from the lack of sleep.

I'm sad.

The death of my grandmother is weighing heavily on my heart. Seattle suffered yet another school shooting a few days ago. Mexico is in turmoil... so many killings, so little resolution. My father must move to Sacramento without my mother while she waits for the house to sell. I miss my kids. 

____

I am joyful.

I choose joy.

The other day in my Spanish class, I looked absolutely terrible. This was caused by an involuntary all-nighter, a screaming head ache and serious caffeine withdrawals. 

My prof asked me "Kayla, estas bien? Necisitas regresar a tu casa para descansar?"

Kayla, are you okay? Do you need to return to your house to rest?

"No, estoy bien. La alegria es una eleccion."

No, I'm good. Joy is a choice. 

____

To be honest, I was surprised by my response. 

"Happy" was definitely not a word appropriate for my description that day.

Actually, "happy" is still not a proper descriptive word for my person.

Joy is though.

Joy is much more than an emotion. 

Joy is an action.

You activate joy in your life. 

You embody a joyful nature when you acknowledge that sure, life can be a bitch, but it doesn't matter.

It simply doesn't matter because what we view as terrible is nothing in comparison to the massive amount of love being poured upon us every moment from the living God. 

You don't need to be all happy-go-lucky to have joy present within your life.

You just need to have faith.

You need to take a deep breath and relinquish control. 

Believe that God is good.

____

This joy does not necessarily need to be attained without question.

Heck, I question, argue, freak out and rant to my home-girl Tracy all of the time...

I take my cues from Habakkuk. 

Habakkuk was a prophet in the Hebrew Bible. He's my favorite.

He's the only prophet who questions the working of God.

Israel is in distress. They have been completely overrun and are in complete despair. 

Habakkuk does not simply say "Oh, everything will be fine. God loves us. Everything happens for a reason. Pain is temporary..." You know, the usual encouragement given.

"How long, Lord, must I call for help,

but you do not listen?

Or cry out to you, 'Violence!'

but you do not save?

Why do you make me look at injustice?

Why do you tolerate wrongdoing?

Destruction and violence are before me;

there is strife, and conflict abounds.

Therefore the law is paralyzed,

and justice never prevails.

The wicked him in the righteous,

so that justice is perverted."

Habakkuk 1:2-4

Damn, Habakkuk.

We are one soul. 

Habakkus lets the Lord have a serious piece of his mind. 

He shares what is troubling his heart and he does not hold back.

But then Habakkuk does something that is much easier said than done...

he listens.

He waits on the Lord to hear His side of the story.

"Look at the nations and watch-

and be utterly amazed.

For I am going to do something in your days

that you would not believe,

even if you were told."

Habakkuk 1:5

The conversation continues on in this fashion.

It is a dialogue, a beautiful dialogue, of honesty and truth.

____

As of late my prayers have sounded quite similar to the prayers of Habakkuk.

I am angry.

I am confused.

I am tired.

I am sick.

I am sad.

I am joyful.

Yes, full of joy.

I know that I can have hope in this darkness because I have a God who overcomes all.

I am with a God who lets me rand and rave, question and doubt, yell and scream...

but then I wait.

Speak Lord, your servant is listening. 

porque no?

I mean, I guess Mexico is pretty rad.

Like, look at that adorable puppy...

My language is coming along well.

Actually, that depends on your definition of "well".

If by "well" you mean that I can communicate accurately and effectively than yeah, I'm doing really well with it.

If by "well" you mean fluent... yeah no.

I would say that my communication is 70% verbal, 10% taboo, and about 20% charades.

It's a fun time.

I'm making great friends, learning lovely things about Mexican culture, finding new and exciting places to explore...

This country, these people and this culture have so much to teach me.

I cannot truly learn in only five months.

So, I'm going to stay.

Surprise! 

I have extended my time here at this university until June.

I am super jacked.

And by super jacked I mean super jacked!

There are some things that are proving to be a bit difficult...

like acquiring a work visa.

In order to remain here I am going to need to get a job to, you know, pay for that thing called life.

I'm not entirely sure how to go about this...

so thankfully a few of my local friends have agreed to give me a hand. 

I'll keep you updated on how that pans out.

(Also, that was kind super punny because I'm looking into getting a job at a panaderia)

It is incredibly exciting to think of all of the crazy experiences I am going to share with Mexico over the next several months.

Vive Mexico!

Am I right, or am I right?

Anyways, just a short life update.

There is obviously tons going on but for now, this is enough.

Have a splendid day.

Here's another puppy picture because, porque no?

esta vida es para mi

so i guess stereotypes are born from some truth.

i'm sitting here, in starbucks, reading.

i'm also listening to macklemore

and wearing birks

with socks. 

ugh.

pnw much?

homesickness is not what this is.

i'm just proud of my culture.

my laid back

tree hugging

adventure seeking

deep conversation craving

good coffee drinking

dog walking

totally tubular 

culture. 

last night i went to a festival of sorts to celebrate mexican culture. 

i watched, along with 2,000 of my closest friends, the lighting of a 

30 foot tall

spinning

red

green

and white

pyrotechnic cactus.

oh yeah, then it shot frickin awesome fireworks into the sky.

it was just the kind of thing that would absolutely never fly state-side.

Viva Mexico!

i love my personal culture

the culture of the pnw,

the 253.

i also love how my culture is forming to be very cosmopolitan.

yesterday, a woman asked me if i wanted some agua de jamaica.

i responded "ee mma."

awks,

not in botswana anymore.

i also do not walk with my head down.

i greet, or at least smile at, every person that i pass.

very setswana of me.

patience has become more than a virtue in my life.

it has become a defining characteristic of my personal culture.

why hurry?

why rush to wait?

so, i sit.

some call it african time.

others latin american time.

i call it my time.

my time that can easily be shared.

though some would argue that this lifestyle is less efficient than the hustle and bustle of the states,

i would argue the opposite.

maybe it depends on your definition of efficiency. 

sure, you might not accomplish as much work.

but you sure as hell will have more meaningful interactions.

those extra two minutes waiting for your coffee can be spent in dialogue with the cashier

or the person behind you in line

or the other individual also waiting for their beverage of choice.

who knows, you might just make a new friend.

or

i guess

you could spend it on your iphone planning out the rest of your day to the 15 minute marker.

life is cool.

why speed through it?

why spend every moment planning the next?

i'd prefer to actually live it.

let's not go forward.

let's not go back.

let's just stay

right 

here.

guadalajara,

what do you have to teach me today?

estoy lista para ti. 

to know and to be known

Wanderlust:

a strong desire to travel.

(Oxford)

Wanderlust:

a strong longing for or impulse toward wandering.

(Merriam Webster)

Wanderlust:

that thing I have that causes me to be in a constant state of transition. 

(Me)

I am loving my time in Guadalajara.

Just like I loved my time in Gig Harbor, Gaborone, Chicago...

Three years,

Four homes.

We could even say five if we count Yelm for the summer of 2013. 

Wanderlust.

It's funny, in a sick kind of way, that this is the life that I have chosen for myself.

But then again, it is not.

Not at all.

Living this way allows me to be completely free.

I move to a new place

with new people

new laws

new history

new language...

new me.

Nobody knows me, not even a little bit.

People know whatever I chose to let them know.

Those of you who have been with me for years know that opening up to people is not something that comes naturally to me. 

In fact, I'm pretty terrible at it.

This fact of my life being true makes my wanderlusty nature extremely convenient.

One might even say that this is the cause of it.

I would argue against that though.

My wanderlust is caused by a strong desire to know others

and by knowing others, know myself.

I watch.

I listen.

I learn.

Wanderlust.

This time, however, is different.

For once, I want to be known.

Transition is great.

I usually love it.

It opens up the doors for innumerable adventures. 

It is during times of uncertainty that I flourish.

I am forced to trust and to be bold.

I leap.

But now, during this season, it would be nice to be know.

When I moved to Guadalajara from Gig Harbor I knew that I would most likely never return.

I knew that my family was moving back to California, but I was not allowed to tell anyone.

It absolutely broke my heart.

I could not inform people because on the off chance that we decided not to move, people knowing that we were planning on moving would cause an immense about of ickyness. 

So I left.

When people asked me when I'd be "home" I would say that I don't know,

not because I still haven't booked a return ticket (which is true),

but because I would not ever be coming "home".

What is home, anyway?

My kids at work would talk about how excited they were to hang out during Christmas break.

Some even began making plans for the following summer.

Parents consistently came up to me during the last few months to tell me of how their kid had "never connected with an adult leader in this way before" or "how being able to maintain a relationship past the summer will be such a great way to show that you're not just another adult that is going to abandon them..."

I would smile and nod.

That's all that I could do, after all.

But hey, why don't you twist that knife a little bit more? 

I'm sure it'll feel great.

When I first found out that there was a chance of us moving, I had a very difficult decision to make:

Do I build meaningful relationships with these kids all along knowing that I am going to have to leave them?

or

Do I solely play the role of facilitator this summer to save myself and the kids from the eventual heartbreak?

I chose to be relational.

Not just because I wanted to know these kids but because I remember how significant the college kids who worked with me were. I would not trade those relationships for anything. 

I guess all I can say is that I'm sorry.

If I hurt anyone I surely did not mean it.

This summer was one of the best and worst summers of my life.

So many incredible ups followed by terrible downs.

Every up, in its own way, was a down.

Joy was quickly turned to sorrow as I realized that this positive memory would only be a memory.

Not a future. 

It was hard.

On top of it all, I was "home" but because of my wanderlusty nature, it was not home.

I was in the harbor, but my heart was still in Africa.

Now, I am in Mexico, but my heart is the harb.

I would like to be known.

Really, I would.

But, at least for now, that does not seem to be in the cards.

Guadalajara, you're one crazy adventure, but shit...

I'm falling for this place

this culture

these people

this language.

But soon I will leave.

That is my life.

That is my love.

That is my burden.

I guess I'm just trying to figure it all out.

But then again, who isn't? 

i am me because you are you.

Life is kinda nuts sometimes.

and by kinda I mean super.

and by sometimes I mean always.

I'm going through a lot of transition right now.

I don't really know how to handle it.

I'm trying though.

and by trying I mean tip-toeing around the issues at hand as if I were walking through a minefield. 

Change is funky.

I think I like it though.

As Meredith Grey (the all-knowing surgeon from Grey's Anatomy) puts it,

"We all think we're going to be great. And we feel a little bit robbed when our expectations aren't met. But, sometimes, our expectations sell us short. Sometimes, the expected simply pales in comparison to the unexpected."

As I go through trials,

trials that seem to be standing outside the door in a line waiting for the prime opportunity to spring themselves upon me without providing a mere courteous warning. 

I am able to stand.

I know who I am.

Those facts will never change.

I am undoubtedly me.

I have been formed,

shaped,

molded,

broken,

repaired,

bruised,

buffed,

torn,

patched,

made.

I am me.

Meredith continues
"You gotta wonder why we cling to our expectations. Because the expected is just what keeps us steady... standing... still. The expected is just the beginning. The unexpected... is what changes our lives."

I am me thankful to my family.

They have been solid through it all.

I am indescribably thankful for them.

There are others though.

Others who are not bonded to me by blood.

Others who chose to walk with me,

encourage me,

challenge me,

invest in me,

and be vulnerable with me.

I am me because they are them.

_____

Thank you.

_____

Jen Easton

You showed me what it means to serve. You took me on my first missions trip to Gleanings for the Hungry. You not only showed me how to serve through 'official' mission, you showed me how to serve through your daily actions. You then provided me with my first real leadership opportunities. You gave me the chance to put what I had observed through your life into practice in my own.

I am me because you are you.

Jeremy Bryant

You have invested in me for over 15 years. You, as a middle schooler, took time to be in relation with me as a elementary schooler. Then, as you entered high school, you became the cool older brother that I always wanted. When you were in college and would come back to the Harb for breaks, you would always make sure to say a special hello to me. Now, as an adult, you invest in me as an adult. You mentor me and show me how to choose joy. You continually inspire me to persevere.Your raw faith challenges me to view my own faith with a lens of reality. You ask questions that I would never ask myself. You ground me.

I am me because you are you.

Bill and Joelene Lemke

You two... dad and mom. I don't need to try around you. You see through all the bull shit. You welcome me. I have always felt like an equal around the two of you. The last ten years as I have been trying to figure out what my true identity is. I have been able to do this along side you guys. In some ways I feel like we went through similar processes of discovery; mine being what it means to be a young woman grounded in Christ and strong in character while yours being what it means to mourn and commemorate in a worthy and honorable manner. We have discovered together.

I am me because you two are you. 

Heather Mahar

I have not known you for many years, but the years in which I have known you have been life changing. As you know, I don't exactly open up with ease. You knew that, and yet you didn't push me. You let me come and sit with you in your office. Just sit. You then noticed my strengths and encouraged me to pursue them. You didn't tell me flat out though, you provided me with opportunities to succeed. I don't do very well with authority, and I think you recognized that. So, you didn't pursue a mentor-mentee relationship, you pursued a genuine friendship. Now, I know that I can come to you and you will listen, encourage and then speak. You speak so much truth into my life and I am so grateful for that.

I am me because you are you.

Scott and Kristen Mullhurn

I don't think the two of you realize just how important you are to me. You guys not only provide me with excellent standards for a relationship, you guys provide me with excellent standards for life in general. You don't settle. You set goals and you reach them. You are ambitious, but you're humble about it. Scott, you accept challenges like a champ. You reach higher and higher and higher. Kristen, you are one of the most encouraging people that I know. It seems that whenever I'm down you know, and you encourage. Whether through Facebook, text or in person communication... you encourage.

I am me because you two are you.

Mrs. Marinelli

I doubt you realize the influence that you have had on my life. (Also, so sorry for not saying hi this summer. every time I would see you I would be whisked away by middle schoolers.) Your enthusiasm in the classroom inspired my love of learning. I was privileged to have you for freshman English as well as AP Lit. What a way to bookend my high school career, right? (My sister also loves you BTW. She would snap chat me Marinelli quotes throughout the year when she was inspired!) When I graduated, went to Rwanda, and returned to the Harbor, you invited me over to your house to share a meal. That meant the world to me. It also encouraged me to seek out relationships with my professors. Because of your initiative, I now take initiative with all of my instructors and have built fabulous relationships. I would not have had that courage if not for you.

I am me because you are you.

Kevin Cannaday

You, in a similar fashion to Jeremy, are like a brother to me. You have been there for me through thick and thin. You actually care. I remember you being a leader on my middle school mission trips and being seriously the cat's pajamas. Your leadership among both the students and the other leaders challenged me to be a stronger leader among my peers. Your love of adventure taught me that fun is good. Actually, it showed me that fun is great. Your life has not been dull, it has consisted of one adventure after the other.Your boldness to travel and dive head first into uncertain situations encourages me to do the same.

I am me because you are you.

Professor Willitts

I really appreciate the investment that you have placed in my life, both in an academic and spiritual sense. You have taught me how to appreciate my faith through research and lecture. I had never thought of  approaching the Bible through an academic lens with the purpose of deepening faith. They were always in separate universes for me. Thanks to you I have learned to love questioning my faith and seeking consequent answers. You have encouraged me greatly to challenge myself in an academic capacity. I did not view myself as someone with a gifted brain until you sat me down and told me to embrace that truth.

I am me because you are you. 

Kellie Rock

Girl, you know you're great, right? It is not the average human that will take a little baby freshman under their wing during their senior year. The way you embrace life and strive to be as close as possible to Christ challenges me to do the same. Being of the same field also makes faith and life real to me. You showed me that through our world of academics you can find beauty in faith. You helped me find connections between my love of the world and my love of God. You somehow got me to open up. That is quite a feat. You waxed my legs. I don't know how that has exactly formed me into who I am today, but it was quite a milestone for our relationship. Although we were only in close proximity to each other for one academic year, I still feel that through limited communication, you are a rock in my life (haha... get it?). I am so thankful for your friendship.

I am me because you are you.

Rebecca Crow

My dear, you have shaped me greatly. You show me how important it is to remain an individual. You show me that being unique is beautiful and should be cherished. You peruse me whenever I am in the Harbor to get lunch, or coffee. You enter into these meetings without expectation. You enter into these meetings with great anticipation. You make me feel like I am the only human on the planet when we talk. You put so much energy into listening and understanding every word that I say. I hope that someday, I can listen with the intentionality that you listen with.

I am me because you are you.

Neil Hampton

When I was a super angsty teenager, you listened to me. You didn't have to, but you did anyways. You suffered through all the dumb drama and you responded with sane advise. You were a constant in my life when friends my age were not. I'm really thankful for that. When thought that I had nobody, you proved that I had you. You would always listen.

I am me because you are you.

_____

Thanks to these adults, I am me.

Thanks to these adults, I will be strong.

Thanks to these adults I will always know who I am, what I believe, and in whom to put my trust.

_____

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."
Joshua 1:9

 Beside You

Marriana's Trench 

A small note to my peers. You all, obviously, have had quite an impact on my life. You know me more than I know me. Thank you for staying with me. Together, we are better.

estoy mas de bien. estoy en casa.

So I've been here for a week now.

Here being Guadalajara, Mexico.

Only a week you say?

Wow, it seems like I've been here forever.

Me encanta este cuidad.

Llegue domingo a las 2:45 de la tarde.

Fue a mi nuestra casa con mi nuevea familia y comimos "la comida."

"La comida" is what my host mother calls lunch.

Actually, lunch is not an adaquate description.

It's a meal, around 2ish, that lasts for many hours.

When we eat "la comida" it is much more than a meal, it's an event,

a time for sharing

learning

making new friends

and loving.

"La comida: in plain translation means "food".

In reality, it is much more than simply "food".

It is life.

That night I also met my roommate.

She is a lovely young woman from the East coast of the US.

Surprisingly, we are the only intercambios from the states.

Americans are afraid to come.

Drugs.

Weapons.

Rape.

Kidnappings.

Gangs.

That's all Mexico has to offer, right?

My first day of classes was interesting, seeing that I had missed the prior week of orientation to finish my internship in the states.

I stumbled my way through campus trying to find my classes.

I made several new friends as I asked just about every human I passed for some direction.

I finished my day though with a great deal of success.

Actually that's a lie.

A kind of big lie.

I finished my day with a great deal of failure.

When Kerry (my roommate) and I were coming home we definitely got lost.

Like, really lost.

Like lost for hours...

I'm over it though.

Soy una desastre.

I am taking five courses here at ITESO.

Cine Mexicano

Espanol

Cristologia

Medeciation y Negotiation

Derecho International y Derechos Humanos

Yeah, that last one, super hard.

The prof definitely talks a million miles a minute in legal Spanish.

(because it's a pre law class)

and I totally have a vocabulary for that...

I will learn though.

Sink or swim,

sink or swim,

sink or swim!

Fui al centro el viernes y el sabado este fin de semana. 

Friday I went to the center with my roommate and another intercambio. 

Se llama Julia.

Ella es de Russia.

Caminabamos y caminabamos por casi ocho horas!

It was a good day.

The next day I wend downtown again.

I went with Kerry and my local friend Fabian.

I saw the same things, but it was no problem,.

It was not mundane.

Guadalajara is magnificent.

Visit me?

Por favor?

Hoy fui a una iglesia catolica.

I had never been to an actual Catholic service until today. 

I enjoyed it.

I plan to explore different churches every weekend.

Hopefully all Catholic.

After all, this is Mexico.

Creo en Dios, Padre todopoderoso, creador de Cielo y de la Tierra.

Creo en Jesucristo su unico Hijo, Nuestro Senor,

que fue concebido por obra y garcia del Espiritu Santo;

nacio de Santa Maria Virgen;

padecio bajo el poder de Poncio Pilato;

fue crucificado, muerto, y sepultado;

descendio a los infiernos;

al tercer dia resucito de entre los muertos;

subio a los cielos y esta a la diestra de Dios Padre;

desde alli ha de venir a juzgar a los vivos y a los muertos.

Creo en el Espiritu Santo, en la Santa Iglesia Catolica,

la comunion de los Santos en el perdon de los pecados

la resurreccion de los muertos y la vida eterna.

Amen.

(I have yet to figure out how to put accents on my letters. Until then, lo siento para los errores.)

livin' the dream?

When I entered Peninsula High School in September 2008, my schedule had a course on it that I did not remember registering for.

Even worse, my schedule had a class on it that I didn't sign up for and was taught by the principle.

I cannot remember the specific name of the class, but it was homeroom related.

All of the other homeroom related classes were designed to help students put together portfolios that represented their year.

This particular class was different though.

In this class we completed the required assignments and did the mandatory busy work...

but we also talked,

a lot.

We talked about what it meant to smile,

laugh,

dream,

and inspire.

We talked about what it meant to challenge,

question,

observe,

and love.

Mr. Winter and Miss Cardinal were the teachers of this course, and their vision was so much greater than this one year.

Their vision was not to teach one group of 15 freshman students what it means to love.

Their vision was to teach every student

every teacher

every administrator

every coach

every maintenance man

every parent

and every soul that stepped foot onto Peninsula High School's campus

what it means to love.

That academic year soon finished and quickly faded into summer,

and summer then faded into fall.

It was still the first quarter when I got a slip of paper that requested my immediate dismissal of class in order to go to the principal's office.

I didn't think that I had done anything wrong... but of course, my brain was swimming with possible reasons for my appearance.

When I entered the room, I was greeted by a few of my peers.

Mr. Winter was not to be found.

We were all curious as to why we were in the principal's office,

but none of us could think of a reason

(or if we did, it did not include the random assortment that we were).

After standing outside the door and laughing at us, I'm sure, Mr. Winter entered the room.

He then welcomed us to the "Greater Than Yourself" program.

Our assignment was simple,

he hand-picked us for our specific gifts and abilities and gave us one job:

love.

Love each other.

Love your fellow students.

Love your staff.

But, love with purpose...

Dare to do something greater than yourself.

Mr.Winter gave all of us an opportunity to serve.

In the inspiring book, Love Does: Discover a Secretly Incredible Life in an Ordinary World, written by Bob Goff... Goff writes

"Words can launch us. We don't need to be a dean to say words that change everything for someone. Instead, God made it so that ordinary people like you and me can launch each other."

Mr. Winter did just that.

He loved each and every student, faculty member, and parent that set foot in PHS.

He didn't stop there though.

He was not content to just pour himself into the lives of those around him, he took it to the next level.

He inspired.

He told us that we are awesome.

And he meant it.

I remember driving by PHS last summer and reading the giant memo board.

It greatly contrasted the GHHS memo board that I had passed earlier that day which read "Pay your fees, or don't graduate."

PHS's board said "Do something that you're awesome at today."

How great is that?

He believes that each and every one of us has something that we could be considered "awesome" for doing, and he encourages us to find what that is and then to do it.

I looked up the definition of awesome.

"extremely impressive... inspiring great admiration."

He looks into your eyes and calls you awesome.

And he's not kidding.

Mr. Winter would walk down the halls and say hi to each and every student he passed.

Oh, and he would do it by name.

How many students attend Peninsula High School?

On top of that, how many people work at Peninsula High School?

I'm going to guess that the total is greater than 30, which is about my limit when it comes to name remembering.

Not for Mr. Winter though-- he knew them all.

He knew them all because he knew the importance of calling by name.

When somebody knows your name, it shows that they took the time to commit you to memory.

They truly care.

You are not random. 

You are specific. 

Just about every single day of the four years I spent at PHS, I would run into Mr. Winter in the hallway.

He would energetically say "Hi, Kayla!"

I would respond with a similar greeting, but the brief conversation would not stop there.

He would then ask me "Livin' the dream?"

And I would respond with some version of "Oh yeah, Mr. Winter, I'm livin' the dream."

And I wouldn't lie.

I was living the dream.

And if on occasion I did not feel like I was living the dream, Mr. Winter asking me would make me realize that yeah, I'm definitely living the dream.

In the book of Acts, Luke writes of the beginning and spread of the church. In chapter four, a new character is introduced to the story. His name is Barnabas. It says, "Joseph, a Levite from Cyprus, whom the apostles called Barnabas, sold a field he owned and brought the money and put it at the apostles' feet." (4:36)

Now, in this passage there is a lot to say about generosity, but what I love most is the name that the apostles name this character: Barnabas.

Barnabas means "son of encouragement".

These people looked at Barnabas and said, "Man, that guy knows how to encourage."

"He really knows how to brighten someone's day."

"He genuinely loves."

"We shall call him Barnabas so all will know of his great encouragement."

Mr.Winter, we shall call you Barnabas, so all will know of your great encouragement.

During my junior and senior years at PHS I was not able to be as present at school as I had been able to be during my freshman and sophomore years.

My life's pace began to quicken and my physical time between the walls of PHS was limited.

Church,

Sports,

Work,

Family,

Boyfriend,

Friends,

Volunteer Projects...

I was unable to be present at school.

That did not mean, however that Mr. Winter ceased to be present with me.

"Kayla, are you livin' the dream?"

"You know it Mr. Winter, I'm livin' the dream."

One day, during junior year English, Mr. Winter came into my classroom (while the teacher was lecturing...) and sat down next to me. 

He listened to the teacher talk for about 15 seconds and then leaned over towards me and whispered,

"Hey Kayla"

So I responded under my breath, "Hey Mr. Winter"

He listened to the teacher for another 15 seconds and then leaned over to me and said,

"So, did ya watch Glee last night? I can't believe what Sue did..."

We briefly talked about Glee and then he left.

I have no idea what the teacher was talking about that day...

but I will have this memory of Mr. Winter being intentional with me forever.

High School is a formative time.

It is in high school that social norms are really defined.

Thanks to Mr. Winter, thousands of high schoolers from the small town of Gig Harbor have been taught through experience the importance of intentionality and love.

They might not notice it now, and they may never be able to pinpoint where these counter cultural normative instincts were birthed.

But I know,

and now you know.

Mr. Winter has left a legacy of encouragement, selflessness, compassion and boldness in the harbor.

I know it,

students know it,

the community knows it,

parents know it,

other schools know it,

and soon eastern Washington will know it. 

A young man I knew in high school has continued schooling at the University of Washington and I can say with full confidence will go on to change the world.

He truly recognizes the significance that Mr. Winter has had in his life and is not shy to share it with others.

On his dorm room wall he has printed several pictures of his heroes. 

Rightfully so, Mr. Winter is up there with the best of em'.

  Benjamin Summerour's dorm room wall; Mr. Winter is pictured on the far right. 

I was blessed with the opportunity to give my senior presentation to Mr. Winter.

I can think not of a more fit way to conclude my high school experience than presenting about how high school has grown me in the areas of character, service and leadership than being able to look a true hero in the eyes and say, "you."

Since graduating I have been able to return to the harbor and get lunch with Mr. Winter. 

I will miss that opportunity now that you are no longer in western Washington.

The people in eastern Washington do not realized how blessed they are.

You, Mr. Winter, are one of the most influential adults in my life.

Thank you.

I'm livin' the dream...

are you?

In Gaborone, Botswana wearing my "Be Awesome!" shirt.