a puddle of thoughts

Michelle splashed in puddles today.
She wrote some poetry about it, and conversly, was reminded of this piece that I wrote.

I wrote this one year ago. Literally, to the day. Hello, that is freaking cool. Ironic. And a reminder of how much can really happen in a year.

It was the first "blog" I ever did. : )

I woke up this morning to the sound of pattering on the window. It didn't occur to me that it could be raining outside, but as I glanced out the window I quickly realized that I would be wearing my black and white polka dotted rain boots today. I threw on my winter jacket that always reminds me of the slopes at Copper Mountain, and walked to the cafeteria so I could make my infamous egg creation (ahem, for those unaware, this consists of a couple scoops of scrambled eggs, salsa, green peppers, tomatoes, and cheese.) Yes, I take my food seriously.

As I walked to the cafeteria and encountered a multitude of puddles I couldn't help to reminisce when I was little. My grandma would pick me up every Wednesday from Ponderosa Elementary School. She would wait for Lance and I, and once we got settled at her house we took our weekly trip to the frozen yogurt shop. She would always encourage us to get something healthy, but being Grandma she never said anything when I got the item with the most chocolate. We would go to the Hampden Library and check out books..and movies...and have a movie marathon that night. My, how time goes. We don't have sleepovers anymore. My grandma has lost her ability to walk and cannot even function independently on her own anymore. Luckily for us, God has blessed her with a strong heart. She doesn't give up, and I can only hope to get that from her one day. Anyway, that was a tanget. The puddles I walked through today on the way to breakfast reminded me of one particular instance when she picked me up. I must have been in 2nd grade or something, and it had rained quite a bit one afternoon. As I was walking towards her welcoming and gentle arms I came upon a huge puddle. Unlike many of the other kids who were splashing and crazily jumping in all of the puddles, I stopped. I looked for an alternative path and chose to walk around the puddle refusing to get wet. My grandma embraced me into a hug that I will always treasure. She looked at me with her deep blue eyes and told me, "Heather, honey, you are so cute. You aren't like the other kids who are jumping around. You went around the puddle. Just wait till you are older when you won't want to stop jumping in puddles." I had no idea what she meant by that. I thought she was crazy..why would I ever want to get messy and wet in a puddle of rain?

10 years later I get it. I mean, at least metaphorically it makes sense. Jumping around in puddles is about more than just getting wet. To me jumping in a puddle means taking a chance. It means taking risks, trying new things, and being a little crazy. My grandma predicted it right on target. As I am on my journey here at good ole Hendrix College I had a realization this morning. I love jumping in puddles. I love being crazy. I love growing in my experiences and in my relationship with God.

Ever since I have been at Hendrix you could say I have been jumping in puddles since I got here. I got involved in field hockey at the college level, am involved with things I never could have imagined, and have seen things that I would never have thought of before. I can't really describe it. It's not a physical change that I am going through. I would say my journey has been greatly spiritual, emotional, and quite frankly, soulful. I don't feel like the same person anymore. I don't walk around the puddle--I don't try for perfection all the time, and I am enjoying the journey more now. I have realized that the JOURNEY is what really matters. Because in the end, we choose who we are. Before I was so wrapped up in not messing up, I never wanted to make any mistakes. But now...I don't know. I feel so loved by Him. I feel His presence everywhere and know that it doesn't matter if I make a mistake. My Maker is with me always; He loves me for who I am and not what I do or do not do. Hendrix has opened my eyes. To other people, to the world, to diverse viewpoints, to LIFE. God has had this whole plan for me. To think about it is so overwhelming..

Michelle made a great point when we were talking last night. We talked about what it took for us to both end up at Hendrix, living next door to each other on 3rd floor Veasey no less. God planned for us at every moment--from Michelle going to the college fair and discovering Hendrix, to me finally deciding to come play hockey at Hendrix and take a chance on Arkansas. Everything happens for a reason. THERE ARE NO COINCEDENCES. I think that has truly become apparent over the past few months. It has been so hard being away from home. So hard. I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss my dog. I miss those freaking mountains! But..going to Hendrix was a lot like jumping in the puddle. I could have taken an easier route and stayed in CO. I could have done that. I would probably still be happy. But I came to Arkansas. I jumped in that puddle and I could not be happier. Goes to show that Grandma's always know what they are talking about. Always.

In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps. Proverbs 16:9 NIV