The life and resliance in this child's eyes reminds me that the hearts in Haiti are very real, and in desperate need of prayer (image via World Vision)

I return to my blog, not so much to give an update on school (more on that later), but to muse on a topic that’s been on my mind lately: compassion. On the 12th of this month, Haiti was devastated by disaster, and the world mourned with those affected by the tragedy. Less than three weeks later, it seems that the media has largely moved on from the event, focusing once more on the economy and, this week, the state of the union address. Preparing for a night of prayer/fund raising for Haiti, I found myself largely in the same position. Tears welled up in my eyes as I read the first news reports, and I prayed constantly for the week or so following the earthquake, yet I’m finding it easier and easier to distance myself and focus back on the things that make my life less than perfect. Even as I collected stories to pray over tomorrow night, I caught myself wanting to look for “just the right story”, glossing over the fact that the pain (and the resilience and hope) of these people is very much a reality, in the most raw and honest sense of the word.

I realize it’s my way of coping, since the idea of opening my heart to suffering and death is overwhelming, and even frightening at times. But more and more, I’m realizing that to see the world through God’s eyes . . . to let my heart beat with His, it is something I must begin to consider. I cannot bear the brunt of the burden: I know I would crumble under the weight of it. But if His heart breaks for each and every broken life in Haiti (and across the world, for that matter), shouldn’t I care for the country as a whole, or for those whose stories I have read? I know I am very limited when it comes to sending financial aid, or volunteering. But I can be desperate in prayer, on their behalf, and the hand of God will be where I cannot be (and His power, of course, is greater than any I possess).

What do you think? How have the stories from Haiti affected you? Or, how do you balance compassion for others and remain centered in your own life?

Well, after what seemed like an endless wait, I’m finally at UW! Move-in yesterday went much more smoothly than I expected. After the chaos of unpacking, I’m not sure I will be able to find anything, but at least everything’s put away, right?

I did my best to break in the room by covering my wall with pictures…though I don’t think there are nearly enough! Once I finish decorating, I will be sure to put up more pictures!

Yesterday after we unpacked, Maya and I went with our parents to the Ave, bought our books, and then went to U Village for a few last minute purchases. We spent a bit of time that afternoon/evening exploring the IMA and the area around the Quad. Today I will be going museum hopping, as it is Smithsonian Museum day, and many of the museums across the country are free. If you get a chance, you should definitely try a museum in your area! Admission cards can be found here.

More pictures/stories soon! (as soon as I have stories to tell, that is!)

In case you need to see it slower: click here.

Now you’ll be the coolest laundry-folder in school. You’re welcome.

Oddly enough, as my childhood begins coming to a close (or so they tell me), I found myself sitting with Erin on the steps of our old elementary school, reminiscing, and examining the part of our journey which now lays behind us.

As I began thinking about it, though, I came to realize that childhood really doesn’t end with my first step onto campus.

In some ways, I realize, I still feel very much like a child. There is still a part of me that wonders just how grown-ups “do life”, and isn’t sure I’ll ever learn to manage it myself. I want to make something of my life, but I don’t even know where to begin. The world is so big, and I am so, so small. I think I may always feel that way, to a certain extent, but I hope to let it be a source of wonder and curiosity, rather than fear.

On the other hand, I can’t help but take note of the ways that adulthood penetrates our adolescent worlds, long before we’re ever considered to be of age. I don’t remember the first time I experienced this (though I certainly remember subsequent episodes), but I remember that with it came the realization that my world was not so small, or secure, as I once believed.

I wonder if, perhaps, this is just the way growing up happens. Bit by bit, real life slips in through the cracks . . . sometimes a rude awakening, and other times nothing more than a gust of wind. However it comes, we learn from the pains and triumphs of real life (or perhaps we ignore them or give into despair) . . . and then one day we we wake up and realize we’ve grown up, and life is at once more wonderful and beautiful and frightening than we ever imagined.

It’s a process that never fails to amaze me, and I am so excited to continue growing up at college and beyond. The past couple of years have been quite a ride, but I am so happy with where they have taken me, and I’m looking forward to seeing where the next four years lead!