Lines & Walls

I feel myself closing off

Which says a lot, since I feel like all I ever do is let people in

It is easier to shut people out, you know

The baggage you carry can just fall by the wayside and you don't have to deal with that stuff if you really don't want to

You can draw the line

You can put up a wall

And I've done that before 

Hasn't everyone?

Aren't relationships often filled with a variety of walls meticulously placed to cover any flaws we are afraid will emerge?

And for me, those walls came crumbling down when I decided that that isn't any way to live

I have nothing to hide

I am who I am

And If I'm on guard, I pray I let it just come down

Or If I keep walls up, God willing there is a reason

Can you really ever know everything about someone?

Can you really know everything about yourself?

kids

I am lucky. Every morning or afternoon that I decide to take a run here in Colorado I often have clear skies, perfect temperatures, and the mountains as my backdrop.

When I am on my runs my mind does one of two things. On some days it might be running in circles, thinking about everything I could possibly think of, while some days my mind finds balance, and I don't think about much at all.
Three days ago it wasn't one of those days where I had a peaceful run. My run was spastic; I really was all over the place. Some of that was due to the issues Lance has been having, some of it was rooted in dealing with an assortment of emotions after finally being home and leaving Hendrix, and actually some of the thoughts that circled in my mind were about what I wanted to do with my life.
I've spent a lot of time trying to find the perfect descriptor, the perfect way to encapsulate what I want to do after college. I've been looking for the right label, the right career.
And just like clothes and everything else in life, labels just really don't work for me.
I don't really know what my future is going to look like. I can admit that. I do know, with full certainty though, that whatever I do after Hendrix, kids will be involved. I've got a lot of learning left to do, but in my nearly 21 years of life, many of the moments that stand out have been with kids. It's also true that these moments with kids has brought new insight into my life, with some kids teaching me more about life than I could ever learn on my own.
On the corner of Colfax and High Street turn right. Park 2 blocks away. That way, you can get in a nice brisk walk to clear your mind. You will pass an elementary school on one side, and one of Denver's historical districts on the other. Scratch that. Before you really see the historical district, filled with Victorian architecture, you will probably be distracted by the fading homes along the sidewalk. Not quite projects, but not quite comfortable living, it's hard not to wonder what it must be like to live in these Capitol Hill Apartments. You will walk in and immediately head to the third floor. This will lead you to the family area section of the Gathering Place. Smile at the women you pass in the stairwell. You can't imagine the battle they are fighting. When you enter the family area, the colors are vibrant, toys are everywhere, and there is laughter. This laughter comes in the midst of pain, loss, and fear—more than I could really ever understand. Yet, there is laughter, and the kids seek this.
I seek this too.
Lizzy, Janet, and Jesus taught me how to love God even when it is hard to comprehend the trials we all face in life. The prayed with me—in Spanish and English—and made me feel a part of their small family.
Betty showed me how to be a friend. She especially showed me how to smile and how to be kind always.
Ezekiel, even though just being a little guy, taught me how far a hug can go. Ezekiel means "God will strengthen" and I always felt my spirits lift when I was in his presence.

Being with kids has always been easy for me. Okay, that isn't completely true. How can I forget the crazier moments, the moments that made me want to scream? I've watched kids who cry the minute the garage door closes, I've had kids hide from me, and I have also dealt with rather intelligent kids who try and bribe their way out of bedtime. So, it hasn't always been easy. But even with the kids that are less than delightful, I still find myself wanting to be with them, wanting to help them.

Kids love easily and want to be loved back. That's what I want to do, I think. I want to just be in a position to love—to show kids out there that someone does care. I want to help kids know that they too can get an education. More than anything, I want to assist them in fully realizing their potential. Somehow, I want to show kids the strength they have inside, and how they can use this in life to find their calling, to reach their dreams.

I don't know what you call that.
But, it may just be my calling.

This is what I was thinking as I glanced up at the endless sky, more blue than I have seen in quite a long time. No, it wasn't a day that my run was calm, smooth, and effortless. My calves were spotted with a mixture of dirt and snow, my legs were sore, and my mind was buzzing. But, I guess when you think about the things to come, about what to do in life, and about the blessings and opportunities God provides, it's hard not to get just a little excited.

Betsy & Janet at TGP

http://www.the-gatheringplace.org/

Dear Lance

I hate that you don't see what I see.

I find myself frustrated that you believe so much in others and can't even believe in yourself.

You're in a rough place right now—trying to bounce back from your seizure and trying to battle depression at the same time.

I wish you could see what we would do for you.

I would do anything—as would everyone in our family—because we love you.

I don't understand it, and I'll be the first to admit that.

But I do understand this—you will do (and have done) great things.

You words hurt sometimes. They sting like hot coffee in my mouth early in the morning. And yet, they are just words.

You can do better and so can I. We all can. We all will.

You inspire me. You are capable of overcoming anything. This time will be no different.

I love you.

Heifer

Arnold Palmers are my favorite drinks.

I am weird.

I want to be a social worker when I grow up.

Mexican food is my favorite.

I feel loved.

I dream of going to Italy.

My favorite thing in the world is laughter.

My name is Heather Newell.

My favorite movie is the blind side.

Banana Cream Pie is the best dessert ever!

Green is my favorite color.

I am from Aurora, Colorado.

HE TERMINADO!

I haven't taken Spanish since last year but I was feelin' a little rebellious today after finally completing the semester. Especially that hellish class they call HISTORIOGRAPHY.

I am done with my classes for the fall semester of junior year.

That is a loaded statement. For one, I loved my classes (for the most part) this semester. Oh, not to mention JUNIOR year. I'm still amazed how fast time is moving. It's just so hard to fathom.

The room is ready to be loaded up. My stuff is in bags, bins, and boxes. My two suitcases are packed. Once I wash my sheets I will be set to go.

It's sad. Scary. Amazing. Exciting. Weird. All at the same time.

I think packing up a suitcase meant a lot more to me this time around—especially since I can only check two bags because I am flying. I had to really find the clothes I wanted to bring to Ghana. Pack the pictures I really wanted to take. And really just bring the stuff that means the most to me. Most of all, it just reminded me how much damn stuff I have. I want to be free of all of it.

I miss my family so very much. Landing in Denver on Sunday night, complete with freezing temperatures and snow sounds perfect. I want to lay on the couch with Buddy, go in the hot tub, hang out with Lance, and maybe even run around the neighborhood, if I feel daring enough.

Mostly, I just want a break. To just relax. Before the next big journey begins.

I am going to miss my girls. It brings tears to my eyes every time I know another goodbye is coming. Saying goodbye just never gets easier. Especially this time around. Things are different, 9 months apart sounds a lot scarier than just a quick summer.

So, here we go. Tears will fall. We will cry. But we will always be friends.

I am done with Hendrix until next Fall.

And it will all be okay. All of it.

22

I left a message on Jessica's facebook today to give her the countdown of how many days it will be till I am back home in Colorado.

22 DAYS.

It caught me a bit off guard. 3 weeks. That means I will go to St. Louis for, come back and finish up classes, take my finals, pack up, and drive back home in a matter of 3 weeks. Not to mention doing all of the reading I still have to do, writing a few papers here and there, and play intramural floor hockey and volleyball.

More than that in 3 weeks not do I only have to pack up, but I have to say goodbye to Arkansas for the next 8 months. Goodbye to Hendrix, to my friends, and to my home here. That's scary. Exhilarating of course, considering the adventures to come. But, scary all at the same time.

I told Maggie today at lunch that I am really just trying to take everything in phases and just take each day as it comes.

I will say goodbye to Hendrix when that comes along. I will go home when it is time. And when it's time to say goodbye to my family and to Colorado, I will be ready.

As for the next 22 days?

I'm going to have a lot of fun. There might be tears. But I also know there will be a lot of laughter, joy, and memories.

Soon in my life there will be snow, and lots of it. I will be playing outside in it with my family and with Buddy, because that is the best part of having Christmas in Colorado.
Soon in my life there will be the big sun in Ghana, with no snow. There will be a new place, a new adventure, and there will be Rachel.

But now, for the next 22 days, I am here.

Time to live it up. Beginning with a night of mayhem. Oh you know, SoCo 54, y'all.

Footprints

They always say that people come and go in your life. Some, supposively, leave footprints. These are engrained in your heart, your mind, and your soul.

Can you ever know which people will stay?
Or, can you ever really take hold of a relationship meant to exist only at a certain time?
The people who have walked in my life are numerous, barely recallable, as I mentally think about old friends, strangers, fleeting relationships, and those who stuck around awhile, and even those who left as quickly as they came.
I remember Mrs. Hamilton from 3^rd grade. She taught me to love, well me. There was a time in my life where I didn't have a ton of confidence In myself, and still Mrs. Hamilton helped me see that who I was was something to be proud of. We were penpals until I was in middle school, and she always reminded me that liking country music was cool no matter what the other kids thought. She encouraged me to read, to explore, and to appreciate the knowledge you can find out there in the real world. I was the quiet, shy, and curious kid in my class and she let me be exactly that.
I remember Erik Bromley. I was practically head over heels for that boy from the beginnings of elementary school until 7^th grade. We had our moments of holding hands, but I think that was only because I would take out the boys during the epic soccer games at recess. Surely he wasn't after my refined femininity. I remember that he "broke up" with me over email. Classy, right? I was that love sick girl in middle school for him, but really, I could have done so much better.
I remember that homeless man in DC. He played the drums on the streets and we took a picture with him. He made me laugh. And our class thought he was so cool, and I did too. I struggled to understand why he could only fit his belongings in one bag. I can see his smile, his laugh, and I can't help but wonder what he's doing now.
I remember my great grandmother Lillian. She died when I was 7, but if I close my eyes long enough, I can see her face, feel her holding me. She was stunningly beautiful, and a woman of love. I remember her house in Nebraska, the way the color pink filled the room, and our large family crammed in one room, laughing. Lillian would play with all of the kids—my cousins—and I loved it there. I hate that I didn't say goodbye. I didn't go to her funeral.
I remember Roslyn from Birmingham. We met over coffee at Highlands Methodist and she was homeless. Yet, that was hardly her identity. She was beautiful, with remarkable features. Her eyes were big; they looked like they could hold all of the world's pain and love. At once. We talked openly about my college journey and her adventures in life. We emailed for the next two years, when suddenly the emails stopped. I don't know what happened, who stopped writing, but as I contemplate whether I should write one back, I can't help but wonder if she was just one of those people to come in and out of my life.
I remember Jennifer, my best friend up until middle school. We were childhood friends, our daddies had grown up together too. I imagined we would be friends forever, just like our daddies. Distance. It was really all it took. Jennifer isn't really Jennifer anymore. She identifies as a man now, and I suppose this is why I have avoided her the past couple of years. I think she has also hesitated in seeing me. She might not know what I would think. I think she is probably right. I don't know if I will see her again. Jennifer has changed, as have I, but I look fondly on our summer camp adventures, trips to the cabin, and fishing with our daddies.
So many people have left footprints.
Some that have left footprints in my heart are still around. Or maybe they are long gone, but I guess what I am trying to do, as I will the rest of my life, is to appreciate the people in my life for the time that I have them. Time and relationships are both fragile and I hope to learn one of these days that whether the people around me are staying or going isn't really the point. The point is that they are here. Now. And I can learn from them while they are around, so that I won't take for granted the days I have with them. I have been feeling this way about everyone here at school. I have deep relationships here: friends, teachers, mentors, teammates, and acquaintances. I know they won't all last once we leave Hendrix. It makes me worried. But instead, I can accept this and live it up while I am here.
My memories from Hendrix already mean something to me. I can't imagine these memories 20 years from now.
Still, the Hendrix experience is lasting another year and a half. No need to get ahead of myself.

the week nothing went right, and still everything was alright.

Last week was that week where on Monday everything that could go wrong does.

A lot of that was little things.

The little things on Monday morning that leave you frusturated, annoyed, and wanting to go back to bed.
It didn't get any better when I got the news about Lance.
No, it got worse.

Again, I found myself lost, dazed, and hurting. How could I possibly be a supportive sister to my baby brother when I am 1000 miles away? How can I give him a hug? A kiss on the head to reassure him that everything will be alright?

A lot of things went wrong the first few days of last week.
Some, I don't even remember. Mostly because I was consumed by the struggle of my family, hoping that Lance could find some sense of peace.

There certainly wasn't any vindication when I got the email.
It didn't change the hard times that are ahead for Lance, or remove the stresses of school, the aches from field hockey, or the anxiety about all the other things going on in my head.
But I won't lie.
The email did bring a sense of relief, like a river smoothing the hard corners of rocks, I was met with a sense of ease.
I got into Ghana.

Heather, congratulations on your placement at the University of Ghana.

Was this really happening?
Was what I have been talking about for over a year becoming an actuality?

There are adventures ahead. Adventures that will challenge me, awaken me, and help me find me.

I called my parents the minute I found out. I was a bit nervous. After the week they had in trying to help my brother I wasn't sure if this was exactly a convenient time.

I sometimes feel like I'm the daughter that has removed herself from the family, chasing after her dreams, at the expense of her family. Like, I'm that daughter.

This all washed away the second I heard my parent's reactions. Instead of focusing on what will be a financial difficulty, on Lance's issues, and the everyday stresses they have, they were just so happy. Ma practically screamed, and daddy choked up. He would never admit it, but when I heard his voice get a little lower, and a bit on the shaky side, I knew he was emotionally right there with me. More than getting into Ghana, this was what I was hoping for. My parents are behind me. Even with everything else going on at home, they are ready to help me go to Africa.

Not to mention the emotional outcry in the cafeteria when I told my friends the news. I can't say I have ever seen such a beautiful and supportive scene among friends in the cafeteria. That was most excellent.

So, here I am checking off the list of things to do. Health Insurance. Plane ticket. Visa. Shots. It goes on and on.

But, before I get ahead of myself, I am consciously working to not only enjoy the rest of this semester, but to also prepare to sacrifice for my family.

This is a bit of a sacrifice for my family. Not just financially, but emotionally. Like my daddy said, his little girl is going to Africa and it's unbelievable, incredible, and scary. All at the same time.

I don't know what to do for my brother right now. I don't know what I can give him, what I can tell him. But I will be waiting. I will wait by the phone, because if he calls I will answer. If he needs to talk, I will talk. I will sacrifice for him, for my family, because my family is doing the same for me. And that's what families are for.

It was the week that I didn't think would get any better. It was the week that was a rollercoaster, and I was riding in the front seat, holding on to dear life for what could happen next. I didn't know Ghana was the next bump in the ride, but I am glad. It was still a tough week. But I guess that's why we have days and nights, and then new weeks come. It gets better, you get stronger, and you learn from those bad weeks. You need the bad weeks for the good weeks, and I know there are more of both to come.

I think I'm ready.

warriors in the big city

Think of New York City.

Think of the big buildings, the bustling people, and the noise.

The sounds of feet quickly passing through the blocks that seem endless, of taxis honking to make it through the city, and the small shops on corners that might just have the best pizza that money can buy.

Think of this, all of this, and then think about the Hendrix field hockey team among all of this.

Yes, the field hockey team went to New York, and my oh my that was some kind of adventure.

Our time in the city was just a small part of our trip over Fall Break, and from the moment we left Hendrix (at 4:30 am mind you) I enjoyed every moment. With the field hockey team there is never a dull moment. Never.

When we got to Westchester County Airport we headed to our hotel in Stamford. If anyone on the team hadn't realized it before, they would certainly realize it now—Ellie Karvoski is a hilariously bad driver. Cutting in front of other drivers should always be expected with Ellie, and if you are trying to caravan with her, well, good luck. We made it to our hotel in Stamford and the hotel was wonderful! On our field hockey trips you never know what you are going to get with our lodging facilities, but Ellie got us the hook up this time! The Hampton Inn was great and not only did I get awesome roomies for the trip (Brandie, Stephanie, Lauren, and Julia) we got a sweet room! We got the suite because we needed an extra pull-out couch with 5 people in our room, but there were certainly no complaints here. Our room did have some problems—lack of working lights and a malfunctioned door—but hey, a small price to pay when you got sweet digs.

The hockey we got in this weekend was good hockey. I think it was a good experience for us to come to the Northeast and see other competition out there. And honestly, I am happy with where we are at. Even though we lost both games, the first one against Manhattanville in overtime, and then the second against Mount Holyoke 3-0, the bottom line is that we can compete. Really, we are right there. That is a very positive our team can take away from this trip, and looking forward it seems to me that we can be real contenders in our conference. Our record doesn't do us justice right now. For the past couple weeks we have been losing games that could have easily been wins. That has been complicated for me. It's complicated because we are IN these games. We aren't getting blown out which shows the big steps we have taken. But, to lose that many games not just by one goal, but really by just a few plays. If anything had gone differently, these games could have gone our way. We are so close. So close that it's amazing, really. We are a third year team in Arkansas that can compete with established teams, and I think that is a great thing. I think it is a testament to how hard we have worked, the commitment we have put forward, and the culture we are building with our team. I like where we are going. I do.

Away from hockey this weekend, our team definitely made some great memories. Fun car rides, deep talks in the hotel room, the assassin game, those crazy sock puppets, Katie dancing in the train station, Kelly singing at our team dinner, having great food at Ali's house, "This is so much fun" game, getting lost, the city, pretending to do homework, pillow fights, taking pictures, and everything in between.

After this trip, like I have learned the past couple of years, I know I can count on these girls for anything. Really, that's what it comes down to. Being on the field hockey team is a big commitment—bigger than probably most people even realize. Practicing every day, in any type of weather, and then sticking together throughout the whole season is just a small part of being on a team. It gets even tougher when trying to balance life as a college student too. But, I wouldn't trade it for anything. I can close my eyes and remember that moment when playing hockey in college became a definite "no." I remember thinking that walking away from field hockey was better for me anyway, and that really it's just a game. And yet, here I am. I can also remember that moment when I changed my mind. When everything worked out exactly how it should have, and I got a chance to keep on playing. It is just a game, but it's also a group of friends, a team, and community, and that is something I will have with me forever.

I love field hockey.

this little struggle of mine

I have been struggling for a little while.

A minute struggle, a struggle that in the grand scheme of things doesn't even show a blip on the map.
There's a lot of hurt in the world. A lot of pain. And a lot of tears.
And so maybe, I know that this little struggle is just that--a little struggle.
I've faced harder things, that's for sure.
I've dealt with heavier things, no question.
But this problem--this wall--has crumbled down.
And it's nice. I feel like I can breathe again. I feel like I can just be me, all pretenses to the side. I feel like I'm home.

I couldn't talk to God.

Progressively, over the course of days and weeks, closing my eyes to pray was a lot like trying to eat when you aren't hungry. When you try to run and you havn't had any water. And when you take a test without studying.
It felt forced.
It felt strange.
It felt fake.

I couldn't talk to God because I was holding back. Or rather, I couldn't bring myself to just let it all go.
And the funny thing is, there wasn't really anything in particular to let go. It was just me. Me, my guilt, my emotions, my thoughts, my dreams, my pain, my happiness, my laughter, my tears, all of it.
I was keeping it inside.
Maybe I was scared what I would find if I just put it all out there.
As if God didn't know.
As if I didn't lay it all out before anyway.
But for a few weeks there, it was kind of scary. Uncomfortable. Stifling.

And worst of all, lonely.

It was like being surronded by complete beauty, and then being utterly unaware. I had to force myself to see something beautiful, and when that happens you know something just isn't right. Beauty shouldn't be that hard--not when I am around incredible people, wonderful scenery, and I get to bear witness to the love of humanity everyday.
But.
Beauty was hard.

I can't really explain what happened. And, I can't say I am one hundred percent cured! Aha! Praise God!

No, no. I am not back to where I started. But guess what? I don't think I want to be.

I think this little struggle of mine was a chance to grow, a chance to endure. Faith and God just can't be easy all of the time. And even though life in every sense was wonderful, I didn't have it together with my heart, and my faith.

So, now.

Where am I?

I don't really know. I don't know about the status of my journey.

AND THAT'S OKAY.

I don't find it healthy to identify my spiritual journey in terms of where I am. Instead, right now, I feel wonderful talking to God. I feel honored, I feel loved, and I feel right. Even if I'm sad, scared, worried, at least the words are there. At least, in the very least, I am still somehow manuvering through life with God right there with me. That's all I can really say. But from here on out, there can't be any "status" on how I'm doing with God. The ups, the downs, that's real. It's okay to fall away, even if just for a short while, because coming back makes it so much more worth it.

Here I am, God.
Here I am.
I don't do it right most of the time.
I screw up. I'm mean. I'm rude. I make mistakes. I hurt people. I lie. I am selfish.
But God you give me the opportunity to be a lot more.
And I'm so thankful for that.
This little struggle of mine is small. It's barely caused a ripple in the sea. But You've helped me all the same. Help me find my way home again.
Help me breathe.
Help me just inhale the fresh air of this world, really just take it all in, and then love.
Love, love, love.