Five years ago. Five years ago I was 19, living in a small, dark apartment we called “The Granny Cave,” and biking to campus to make it to my Shakespeare 120 class which took place in a theatre-like lecture hall underneath the campus Subway restaurant. My classroom’s location meant it always smelled like bread. and a pound of flesh! (Merchant of Venice, anyone? anyone?). If I remember correctly I was adamantly trying to perfect the Katniss braid and pretty much settling for the “messy” braid look. The messy braid better always be in style or I’m never braiding my hair ever again. Some of you out there are loosening and tossing your braids every which way on purpose, for a “look.” I do this naturally.

This is a blurry picture-phone snapshot of the giant pillowfort we made in “The Granny Cave.” Those were the days…

“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”

-L.M. Montogmery, Anne of Green Gables.

This time of year always makes me a little nostalgic for school. Not for the tests, stress, and occasional backpack back pain, but for the casual walks across bricks covered in crunchy leaves, and professors who start out fresh from vacation and have convinced themselves to believe in 20 something’s intelligence again. And you swear you’re going to check and write in your planner and color code it, and instead 2 months later a pear rots in your backpack and your beautiful planners smells like a Bath and Body Works from Hades. Ah, to be a student again. The hard part about school is that it’s supposed to be training you for life. But no one has all the answers, and most can only give you very specialized answers, or the very vague “We’re all on a journey…” Well, College is a very specific journey with parameters and it’s really really expensive for most people. And one day, you graduate. And five years after that Shakespeare class, you only make it through 2 minutes of a Ukulele tutorial video because learning is hard.

So goals. Where do you see yourself in five years?  I see myself on a stage giving motivational speeches on groundbreaking research on the power of sugar cookies and having a little bit of heart. And Martha Stewart calls ME for advice about her beekeeping skills. All silliness aside, I’m still stuck in thinking that five-year goals have to be ambitious, powerful, and almost always involving a stage. But what if I make simple goals in the future? Never letting go of the illusive confetti filled balloon goals that make your heart soar, while acknowledging the truer, more stable goals of starting a consistent workout routine, writing that really hard letter, and accepting that you can’t control people are more life-giving and usually help you reach for those loftier confetti goals.

But really, making goals for the future makes me nervous, because it takes committment, consistency, and probably some grit. And I would much rather try to play ukulele and quit for the 3rd time. And even if you work really hard, you still going to have to ask other people for help, because sometimes you don’t have all the answers and you’re on a journey and five years down the road you’re going to look back nostalgically and think “those were the days…” and realize you really do like clichés .

Now go out there and change the world! Just do it!

There I stood – cars on one side, a thin metal railing on the other. I had to keep walking forward and couldn’t go back. This is supposed to be fun? I thought. The view was so breathtakingly beautiful that even a quick glance made me feel like I was falling even as I felt my feet hitting the ground.

And I wished to be a different person – a braver, less afraid of heights, and comfortable with the future. But the fact is, I was born more of a writer than a fighter. A swing set was too much of an adrenaline rush for me as a kid. There was a short window between the ages of 17-21 where I jumped off a couple cliffs and one or two rope swings. But then I hit the ground emotionally – and realized just how vulnerable we all are. All the things we think are important (grades, jobs, and planning the perfect vacation) sink pretty quickly beneath bigger waves.

“The ground is just fine, thank you very much.”

– Katrina’s brain and heart

Where do you go to make your soul feel alive? For me, I realize that my heart leans more towards a quiet meadow with a barn. Or a strawberry field with a gentle breeze. For others, walking (or running) across the beautiful deception pass bridge is life-giving to them (I’m looking at you my crazy daredevil siblings). We can get caught up in the lie that we should constantly chase experiences that are instagram worthy or that make our heart race, when in reality I think we should be living with our souls on fire. Souls that are burning with a desire to be free of this place and simultaneously unafraid to live the best life we can in this place.

Your identity can’t be placed in pictures, likes, awards, or even what people say about you. Because if those are the places you/we/me look for identity that’s a much more precarious place to be then a narrow, but very stable, bridge tourists like to walk over. We need to have vulnerable hearts to the hurting of this world – but be tough enough to not take this world too seriously. It’s a tension that I hate and love.

We are our souls on fire
We are reaching higher
We are our souls on fire
When we come alive

-Switchfoot, “When We Come Alive.”

Ok, so back to the bridge. There I found myself finally crossing the first deception pass bridge, only to realize that there are two bridges. TWO BRIDGES?? what maniac thought this idea up?? (Probably a brilliant engineer who isn’t afraid of heights or being close to cars). And I had to turn back because I was feeling woozy and disoriented and not at all mentally prepared to keep going. I think if I went back now I could do it because I’d have enough time to think it through. Sometimes it’s ok to say “This is too much, I have to turn back.” We live in a culture where you must push the boundaries and break records and where setting limits can be seen as a failure. But there is beauty in agency. In choice. In knowing how far you can go before you try again.

I like hearing Bible stories because they’re not fairy tales. The story of Joseph is one of my favorites.  Joseph was a slave for years and years and years. He is kind of like Cinderella, but instead of finding true love at a ball, he ends up running away from his owner’s wife and finding himself back at the bottom of society again (prison). He also gets to save a whole country from famine, only to be faced with his family’s own brokenness in the end.  Cinderella never has to face her evil stepmother and decide if she’s going to forgive her.

I relate the most to the Joseph who is enslaved. The one in the pit waiting the slavers his brothers are selling him too. The Joseph who is imprisoned. Becoming “successful” only to lose it all over and over. Thinking “I’ve made it!” only to discover my own heart has become desolate wasteland. Joseph didn’t give up, or if he did we don’t know about it. He remembered God’s promises to him over and over again. Joseph faced an uncertain future over and over again as his fates constantly changed. Maybe we can face uncertain futures with the hope that we follow a God who rules with certainty. A God who doesn’t want us to be someone else or hide from who we are but to fully accept grace. Grace-filled souls that accept our weaknesses but carry on nonetheless. Souls on fire.

“We are fire
You and I

Strength, heart, soul, mind.”

Switchfoot, “When We Come Alive.”

-Katrina.