Last Day of Class

Ok, people, sappy alert! If you hate that kind of stuff, click away now, because I'm a girl who needs to process some stuff.

Everyday view on campus

My last log-in at the library on campus

I just went back and re-read my first post, back in January when this semester had barely begun. Even then I felt the nostalgia pressing on the edges of my thoughts, the calendar already running faster toward graduation than I wanted it to.

This whole semester has felt like the final chapter of a great book. You don't want the book to end, but the more invested you are in the story, the faster the pages turn under your thumb. Suddenly you realize that the characters you've grown to love are only two or three sheets of pressed tree pulp from being put back on the shelf.

I know that the sequel will be good, but seriously...why is change so hard?

Sitting in my last class, 4/26/12

Yesterday was THE LAST day of class for my entire undergraduate career.

My teachers were so cute. They all tried, in various ways, to delay the end of class, to put off the coming closure. I will sincerely miss their lectures.  My profs have all been great, but I had some real gems this spring. (Click here for some hilarious proof.)

I wish I could say I savored yesterday fully, soaked up buckets of fun memories and felt only joy and relief, but the main thing I felt was

profound...

exhaustion. 

I used to scoff, but now I'm a believer: senioritis is a real, honest-to-goodness disease, and sister, I've got it BAD. My eyes are sagging with lack of sleep, and my motivation is sagging even worse. I told Hubby that I wanted to hibernate like a bear  and then wake up in two weeks to get my diploma. He laughed at me, but I know he understood.

But then, after an exhausting last day, we went to the last homegroup meeting. :)

Fifteen of us sat, knees and elbows crammed into the small space filled with friends. As the room swelled with the sound of our worship, my shoulders untwisted and my heart calmed. Jesus was there, in the room with us, and nothing else--not my tiredness or the papers I had to write, or my million other worries--were as important as Him.

We drank purple juice and ate pinches of bread from a chewy loaf as we remembered His deep love. The love that never runs out, never gets tired.

We each shared the things God has been teaching us this semester, and to hear the recitation was to worship all over again!  It was beautiful to see and hear what He is doing in all of us: teaching us patience, getting us out of addictive behavior, bringing us out of depression or control-freak tendencies or co-dependent relationships.

Then--the best moment! Almost-graduates, like me, sat in the middle while the rest crowded around and hugged us as they thanked God for us and prayed for us. Under my arm, I could feel Kerri's shoulders move with silent tears.

I could cry happy tears now for the ways that God has been so faithful!

But now I really REALLY need to sleep.  G'night and gig'em!

Impressions: Spider Bite edition

It's been about a week now since this nasty little welt appeared on my thumb. Methinks I have a spider enemy.

But you can be sure I forgot completely about spiders when I saw this sweet love note on our fridge. I officially have the most wonderful guy EVER.
*Intentionally faded so that you must scwunch your eyes REALLY HARD to read the mushiness.*

Remember the gluten free cake with the strange ingredient that I made for hubby's birthday? Yep, here it is! We only got one hastily taken picture before the double-decker hunk of chocolate goodness was gobbled by our homegroup. Mmmmmmmm!

Because his actual birthday fell on a day already overflowing with obligations, we continued the celebrations on Saturday by throwing a build-your-own-sundae party for some friends. Toppings included: bananas, strawberries, Oreo Cookies, Hershey syrup, Gummi Bears, and caramel sauce. *sigh* Every bite was delicious!

Early last week I had the honor of babysitting this little punk for a couple hours! She looks like a babysitting nightmare, but she is honestly one of the sweetest babies in the world. :)

Were you aware that you could buy an ENTIRE rack of ribs for dinner at BJ's? Maybe I'm just a typical girl who orders grilled chicken, but my mind was blown. 

The reality that graduation really is happening hit home to me this weekend while I was designing the announcements to send to friends and family. 

I know that the next three weeks will slip through my fingers like sand, and I'm trying to savor the moments before they're gone. 

Slice of Life: Bike Riding

A friend's blog recently featured an entry that she called a "slice of life". Like a slice of layer cake, a slice of life is a bite-sized snapshot of an experience, a relationship, or a moment made memorable by the telling. The concept is supposed to be a weekly recurrance.

I realize that a lot of my posts already do this (like funny moments, or a special visit from a sister), but I got inspired to be more artistic this time. More in-the-moment.

So here is a slice of my life that I will sincerely miss after I graduate and can no longer arrive sweaty to work.

(I wrote it last semester, when I began to play with the initial idea of writing for fun.)

_____________________________________________________

{Biking}

I am visibly glowing, sitting in class without jacket, without overshirt, in sleevless tank top.  It’s October, but I feel like I’ve been through a sauna.  

It's a self-conscious sauna of sweatiness that makes me intently aware of the sweat on my upper lip, at my hair line, and seeping through my cotton shirt. 

I love riding my bike to class for the speed, for the gas it saves, but most of all for the knowledge that I am sneaking in a workout under the guise of transportation.  


What kind of culture do I live in that we SEEK to burn more calories?  Most cultures, today and throughout history, have sought to CONSERVE energy. I feel like a new kind of strange pioneer, living in an age when exercise is more cosmetic than necessary.

The one thing I hate about riding a bike is the dangerous element of invisibility.  

I remember when I was very small, Mom would grab for my hand before we walked through a parking lot or across the street. “The cars can’t see you,” she told me.  

I am big now—bigger than she is—but they still can’t see me when I ride my bike. I think I would be more visible if I were on foot!  No driver expects something as small as the bike to move so fast.  It has brought an entirely new meaning to the term “defensive driving”.  

I launch myself forward, and my legs slowly churn the machinery, gathering speed.  

I love the balance.  

I love leaning into a curve, hearing the rubber of my tires grabbing for traction against the asphalt.

I love the flight downhill, going faster by gravity than I ever could enhance by pedaling. That is when I stop, spread my legs outward like wings, and grin like a two-year-old into the hilarious wind. 

God, let me never stop acting like a kid!  The day when I can’t enjoy a downhill speed-session will be the day I start to die inside.

Single gal for three days

Even in the velvety dark of midnight, my house makes constant, rhythmic sounds like a sleeping child.

The air conditioner hums like a persistent exhale, my computer’s fan whirs, and the dishwasher gurgles and clanks softly.

Today has been messy, beautiful, full. 

It’s feels strange to sit here alone while my sweetheart is asleep somewhere thousands of miles away. I know many wives who deal with work-related separation on a regular basis, and I really don’t know how they do it! I must be spoiled, because it’s only been three days, and I still miss him. And I know he will be back here, eating his birthday cake, in less than 24 hours. 

Yes, today is his birthday! (Happy birthday, sweetheart! I know you’ll read this tomorrow—er, I mean today!—at  some point in your travels. I have lots of fun surprises for you when you get home!)

Cooking and baking for a man with a gluten allergy has often been challenging, but tonight I think I found a winner! This flourless cake is chocolaty, dense, and tastes positively sinful, but is incredibly high in protein thanks to the many eggs and a surprise ingredient: 

No really. It’s delicious.

While I have missed my man these three days, I feel so refreshed from the many special girl talks I’ve been able to have!

One was on the phone, with one of those rare heart-sisters whose friendship remains constant no matter how long it’s been or how far away we live.

One was on freshly vacuumed carpet, the three of us alternately sharing our struggles and laughing at the puppies and the toddler-who-thought-she-was-a-puppy as they crawled and shrieked around us. Then we sat and prayed for each other and drove home, refreshed in deep places.

One was a spontaneous late-night visit across the lawn, shoes off, laughing in the beautiful blend of our personalities until the mosquitoes forced us inside.

One was seven hours long, and still felt short! We ate and laughed and gave back rubs and talked theology and sweethearts, and slept and then talked some more. 

Maybe later I'll process some of the content of those talks here, but for now I'm just treasuring them in my heart. 

I'm slowly learning that girl friends really are crucial for the health of my heart. I never want to let the busy-ness of life, or the tendency to compare myself, or any number of other hangups rob me of life-giving relationships with other girls. 

Laugh Collection

I have a pocketful of really funny stories from the past few weeks to share with you.

#1: The other day, my sassy, pregnant, and highly intelligent professor of Communication couldn't wait to tell us about what had happened to her.

Earlier that week, she had walked into an 8:00 class to fill in for one of her grad students who was in the hospital. Immediately, two young guys in the front row looked up at her, declared "It's a sub!"...and promptly began acting classically immature.

Remember how your friends acted in middle school when you had a substitute?  Yeah. This was the college version.

They began to discuss--loudly--a number of stupid things they had done or were planning to do, including the jello shots they planned to serve at their house party that Friday. They even got rude with Dr. J-B, asking her, "have you ever taken jello shots?" "Of course, not while you're pregnant." "You ARE pregnant, aren't you?"

She was shaking her head in disbelief as she related the story. "I had never been so amused by college-level stupidity in my life!" she said.

The best moment of her story came when she called the class to order. She stood up and announced, "Hello, my name is Dr. J-B. I am the course director for this class."

She said you could have knocked the two jerks in the front row over with a feather. Their eyes widened and their spines slumped down in their seats with mortification. This woman controlled their destiny.

"You-you wouldn't judge a book by it's cover, would you?" they asked.

"No" she smiled. "I won't judge either of you by a cover. I'll judge you by the many stupid things you've said to me over the past ten minutes."

Oh snap.

The irony is that they judged her by her pregnant belly, her youth, or simply the fact that she wasn't the usual guy, and made a huge mistake!

#2. My second story happened to me last week in a dark parking garage at around 2am.

Yes, it sounds creepy, but don't worry.

I had been studying for hours in the campus library, head poked into a tiny cubicle table just big enough for my laptop and the stack of books I was referencing for a research paper. The plan was to stay there until the bitter end. But...my growling stomach and my need for some free caffeine finally won.

As I walked through the garage to my car, two guys passed me in the opposite direction.

"Woah, you're just now going out?" one asked, amazed. "You party hard-core!"

My tired brain took its sweet time to recognize that they were talking to me. a) Random guys don't usually talk to me, and b)I was thinking about citation formats.

I think they pitied me when I told them the truth.



#3. I saw this sign by the library.  Not so weird...except that I saw it last week.

Maybe the campus staff was pulling a late April Fools prank?

That's all for now!  Do any of you have some funny stories from recent weeks? Share 'em!

Italy update

Today I realized that some of you are probably wondering...is that Italy trip thing still happening? Haven't heard about it in a while...

I’m afraid that this is one area in which the blogosphere has been getting the short end of the breadstick, simply because our Italy facebook group has been a much more convenient place to post updates.

But today I have news—news that not even facebook has seen! (Drumroll, please…)

It looks like once all promised money arrives, I will have all the funds necessary for the trip!

Only two days ago, I lacked over $400—a seemingly impossible sum after weeks and weeks of an achingly slow trickle of support.  I was still asking God to provide, still telling him that I believed He could do it, but… my confidence was starting to mirror the puniness of the money coming in instead of the bigness of the God I was talking to. 

So often I focus on the problem instead of on the One who can solve it.

I only realized I had been doubting when He suddenly answered...and I was surprised.

I got a facebook message.

Then a phone call.

Then an envelope under my windshield, stuffed with cash. (No idea how long it had been there before I saw it on my way to work!)

I feel so humbled, knowing that God was able—and willing—to provide it the whole time.

Update #2: Our team membership has shifted!

Originally, our team included two from beyond the borders of the USA: a young man from Hong Kong, and a sweet young woman from Mexico. Since then, difficulties in raising support from across the world have caused our Asian teammate to make different plans, trusting that God has something better in mind for him during those two weeks.

Karla, our lovely Latina, is still Italy-bound, but her funding levels continue to lag far behind the rest of us. The trip is especially important for her, because she is strongly considering joining the Italian team on a long-term basis. In many ways, this initial trip with our team is a scouting trip, allowing her to form a more accurate picture of life in Italy.

If you would like to help her with her trip costs, you can use this secure PayPayl link.

Because fundraising is so crucial to getting there, (free plane tickets, anyone? J) it might seem from Facebook and the above discussion that nothing else matters. Wrong!

The center, the hub, the real pit of this peach is this: God is passionate for people everywhere.

His heart breaks for people whether they live in dorms or drug allys, in houses or hostels, in suburbs or in slums. He knows them individually, intimately, internally—better than they know themselves. He died for them. He loves them. And only he is powerful enough to provide purpose in pain, security in insecurity, and forgiveness for secret sins.

But so many of them don’t know him.

As a team, we are praying on a weekly basis, asking God to give us cultural sensitivity to the Italian students and a real attitude of humility when we go. We want to be learners and guests first. 

Then, when we get the chance to tell how Jesus changed us, they will know that it’s not a sales pitch—it’s for real.

Lest I give the impression that the Castille family couldn't use any more help for the trip, hubby still has about $700 lacking for his trip costs. Anything that doesn't come in through gifts will come out of our savings...and while I'm thankful that we DO have enough to cover it, we would also welcome help if God leads you! 

Impressions from my week

Waking up next to hubby is the most wonderfully safe feeling in the world.

I feel like a European when I mix yogurt with raw oatmeal and fruit for breakfast. It is one of the many small ways that my time in Hungary and Moldova imprinted my life.

My little cubby at work feels more home-like and familiar now that I have decided to leave it. Oh, the irony!

After blogging about how heart-wrenching it is to say goodbye to friends and lose touch, I find myself treasuring every moment I get with the friends who are here. This week at lunch, for example, three of us sat in the winking sunlight of a warm, green park, and shared our hearts. I felt mine filling as we chatted and laughed. (See, Mar? I TOLD you you'd make it into my blog someday!)

Coming home to piles and piles of clean laundry folded by my servant-hearted husband is one of the BEST ways to win my heart.

I've never been a coffee snob, but I'm falling hard for the creme brulee coffee that my friend, Jenni, always serves at our women's times. Yummm....

October baby

Because of a long tradition that began back in our early dating days, Monday night is date night at our house. (Hey, it sure beats fighting the Friday-Saturday crowds, and lots of places have specials!)

This Monday, we finally went to see October Baby at the old theater down the road. 

I cried. 

Admittedly, I am known for becoming...invested in the characters on the screen. I will involuntarily leave my clinging nail marks in hubby's hand when things are tense, or have to leave the room when the embarrassment felt by the character is too much to take. (Hence my love-hate relationship with The Office.)

But I'm not usually teary-eyed. Freaked out, yes; snotty-nosed, no. 

For those of you who haven't seen it yet, here is a brief, non-spoiler-containing synopsis:
Hannah Lawson is a beautiful young college student who suddenly collapses during the opening scenes of her first college-level theatre performance. All medical tests point to one common denominator: her difficult and premature birth. 

After Hannah discovers that she is the adopted survivor of a failed abortion, she sets out to discover the truth about her past. 

Check out more reviews and this official trailer from the Dove Foundation. 

After seeing Fireproof and other similar movies produced by Christian organizations, I honestly wasn't expecting very high quality, either in the acting or in the filming. But October Baby was a pleasant surprise! I'm no expert, but the camera work felt professional, tender, and intimate. I found myself powerfully drawn into the emotion of the story by the authenticity of the characters. 

I think that the aspect I most appreciated was that, while it does deal honestly with the painful fallout of abortion, it never vilifies the young women who chose to end their pregnancies. Instead, the movie leaves you full of compassion for those faced with that difficult choice. 

And on that note...do NOT leave the movie before the credits have finished. :)

Choosing Excitement!

So much is poised to happen in the next 40 days.


1. I will somehow finish my three classes, including a slew of GARGANTUAN research papers.


2. Our student homegroup will wind down for the semester. *tear*


3. I will train someone for the parts of my job that I can't do from Colorado.


4. We will FIND someone to do my job over the summer (probably should have mentioned that one first!)


5. I will fine-tune my resume. (Anyone feel talented in this area? I'm not above asking for help...see, I'm asking now. :) )


6. I will graduate!


7. We will fly to Milan, Italy, to show the love of Jesus to students for two weeks.




Whew! I am choosing to feel excitement instead of feeling overwhelmed. Trusting instead of fearing.
I know that even though I may have moments when I'm dead-tired in the next 40 days, I belong to the One who couldn't be conquered by death.


He restores my heart daily, and I know it's gonna be a great ride!

...Oh, praise the One who

paid my debt

and raised this life up from the grave!...

24 Hours: Unplugged

Did you miss me? Probably not...I only went "unplugged" for 24 hours, so it only really affected the three people who tried to text me.

My English professor has been lecturing about Postmodernism, and she issued a challenge for extra credit: get rid of the "white noise" of gadgets, texting, and other modern distractions for twenty four hours. Afterward, she wanted us to write a summary of our experience.

Today, I took the challenge. And here is what I wrote:

[warning; this is a slightly longer post than usual. :) ]

I was excited when you issued the challenge to unplug ourselves for twenty-four hours. I reserved the right to call someone on my phone and to work on the computer for school, but I decided that “unplugged” would mean no Facebook, no YouTube, no TV or movies, no texting, no email, no blogging, and no radio. I warned my friends: Don’t text me on Tuesday; I’m going unplugged.

The day started off well, but I had to remind myself that I was not allowed to check my IPhone for the weather forecast. I guess I can just walk outside to see if I’ll need a sweater. It felt a little strange to eat breakfast without checking my email and blog statistics, but as I ate and looked out the window, I remembered again how much I love the tangy sweetness of strawberries. I also left for school on time, which has been rare in the last few weeks.

Between classes, my phone seemed to wink at me from my backpack’s side pocket. My husband and I usually text each other throughout the day, and I had to fight back the urge to send him a message several times. With my hands and attention strangely unoccupied, I began to notice details about my classmates that I’d never seen before. I felt conversational, but most of them were texting and I couldn’t catch their eyes. It made me wonder whether I put off the same vibe of inapproachability when I am fixated on my own phone’s screen.

I went to the library, and there I spent one of the most productive hours of the past month. I chose a table that had no computer so that I would have no chance to “accidentally” check my blog or email. In one hour, I wrote two letters, copied two recipes onto index cards, studied for my next class, and completed an entire Bible study. 

My mind felt calm, sharp, and focused. Usually, I am the queen of multi-tasking. I can cook dinner, do laundry, study for a test and text a friend simultaneously without breaking a sweat. But after Tuesday, I wonder if my mind was designed for single-purposed attention.

I biked home and arrived feeling hungry, thirsty, and restless. I would usually check Facebook at this time of day.  

I feel disconnected from the real world.

A split second after the thought crossed my mind I realized just how ludicrous it was. Here I was, enjoying face-to-face interactions with my husband and the solid realness of my home around me, and I was calling facebook the “real world.” And missing it. When did I make that shift?  At what point did a virtual interface with a blue and white color scheme become more real than the pile of dirty laundry in my closet or the people sitting next to me in class?

Maybe this hurry-scurry lifestyle of production, day-planners and social media has contributed to the postmodernist’s skepticism toward anything claiming to be true or authentic. If they themselves are so enslaved to the busy treadmill, so spread thin that they are unable to give themselves in a genuine way to any one thing, why would they expect something different from society at large?

After a day of being unplugged, I have mixed feelings. 

On the one hand, I enjoyed the calm that settled over my mind in the absence of “white noise”. I felt more productive, more aware, and more relational than usual, and I can see that a constant stream of media and gadget use would almost certainly insulate me from a genuine experience of real life. 

But on the other hand, I felt downright rude to ignore texts from my friends. Unless your phone is lost, or you’re dead, our instant-feedback society has come to expect near instantaneous responses when you text someone. The access we have to any person at any time has become normal—our new reality. To experience the collective reality of our interactive culture, one must forego some depth of interaction with the objective reality, and vice versa.

Since I cannot be a hermit, total absence of white noise is impossible. But in order to avoid the hopelessness and isolation of an in-genuine existence, I am determined to periodically step back, turn off my phone, and taste the strawberries. 

Beautiful beginnings

I really don’t know how to condense my happiness for my friends into words! I’m sitting in a coffee shop, surrounded by people, and I can’t stop smiling. If they look up from their iphones long enough to see, they will probably wonder why.

The reason is because three of my friends experienced significant, beautiful, life-altering beginnings this weekend.

One of these earth-shattering changes occurred at my kitchen table.  

Four of us were sitting, eating pancakes, maple syrup and fresh strawberries as we discussed God. What if He asked you, “why should I let you into Heaven?” What would you say to Him, I asked, if you were standing in front of him?

As we talked, I illustrated on a rectangle of paper between us. The themes of holiness, lawbreaking, and an uncrossable divide were discussed and scrawled, and I saw understanding light up her face.

I told her a piece of my story. About the perfectionism that ruled me, guilted me, and tortured me with feelings of inadequacy as a little girl. About how I simultaneously thought I was better than others, full of pride, unwilling to listen to corrections. And then—amazing! How I learned that Jesus was perfect when I was not. How I learned that he—the perfect one—had been humble, paying the death penalty I owed.

In full.

And there, at the kitchen table, my friend gave her life to Jesus because He had given himself for her. I don’t even know if she realized the HUGENESS of what had happened in her at that moment! It was as earth-shattering as if King Tut’s mummy had suddenly come back to life.

The second beautiful change occurred the next day, my two friends standing hand in hand in the colored light filtering in through the stained glass of the church.

Her father officiated, and I heard his voice tremble with unreleased tears. We all sat as witnesses, alternately laughing at the groom’s hilarious facial expressions and crying at the purity of the moment, the beauty of the bride.

One change occurred at my kitchen table; the other under the vaulted roof of a church.

All three friends made life-altering verbal commitments: the first to God, and the second to each other. Both resulted in something completely new, something beautiful, something that had never existed before. 

And I am so excited for all of them! :)