Saying Goodbye to Manchester

It's hard to believe that my time in England has come to an end. Seems like just yesterday that I quit my job, moved all of my crap to my parents' basement in Michigan, and boarded a plane bound for Manchester, UK. There was so much anticipation for what this season would hold and how my decision to move to another continent would pan out. I was nervous to leave my comfort zone and sad to be saying goodbye to the people I care about, but I was mostly excited for this opportunity to pursue my master's and live abroad, two things that had been on my list for a while.

This year in Manchester has been one of the most challenging, but also one of the most rewarding, seasons of my life on a number of levels. There are countless things I could say to describe what my experience has been, but the rule of thumb with blogging is to keep things short. So, I've decided to sum up this season with a list of highlights:

-Transitioning back into academia after working for 4 years was rough. My first semester of classes nearly killed me, but by the end of second semester, I was killing it in my classes. 
-I loved deeply. I was wounded deeply. I was reminded once again of the resiliency of the human heart.
-I lost friends and walked away from community, but I also made new friends and found a new community. I feel particularly thankful for all of my incredible classmates who brought a wealth of knowledge and experience to our program, and also know how to have a good time in and out of the classroom.
-I wrestled with my weaknesses, fears, and disappointments, sometimes winning the battle and sometimes losing. In the process, I saw the strength and determination that I possess, and I'm proud of myself for sticking it out, even when I didn't think I had it in me. 
-I traveled to 7 European countries (France, Belgium, Wales, Ireland, Scotland, Hungary, and Italy) and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of exploration. I've now been to 28 countries. 
-I reconnected with my African roots during a program field visit to Uganda. Turns out I'm not the only one in my family who can play the drums. 
-I drank lots of cider and even more tea (with milk and sugar, of course).
-I got the stomach flu and tonsillitis and was thankful for the NHS. I still can't believe that I can walk in and out of the hospital and not pay a dime (America, what's the deal??). 
-I lost 10 pounds but gained most of them back (probably from late-night kebabs and sour cream and sweet onion kettle chips).
-I spent countless hours in the library. They paid off. 
-I was rained on a lot, which has made me appreciate sunshine even more than ever. I also came to understand why the weather is one of the only things English people talk about. You're either complaining about how terrible it is, or rejoicing on rare days of sunshine. There is no middle ground.
-I broke both of my cameras (womp), which got me in the habit of camera borrowing for my weekend adventures. 
-I kissed an English boy in the rain (que romantico!). 
-I dated a Spanish boy for a week and spent one of my favorite days in Manchester with him exploring the city and indulging in sunshine and jazz music. Why one week, you may be wondering? Because we met one week before I left (quickly becoming the story of my life). 
-I went on a date with a guy from Kashmir. This was the second most awkward date of my life, and I will be dedicating a blog to it in the near future (to read about the my most awkward date, see here).
-I got made fun of for my American accent. I was also told that there should be more Americans in Manchester. I prefer the latter, though you might say I'm biased. 
-I missed family and friends, but also thoroughly enjoyed my independence and learned to be super comfortable spending time with myself.
-Oh, and I earned a master's degree from the University of Manchester! Well, almost. I just have to wrap up this small thing called a dissertation. Details... 

If you had asked me 4 months ago what my experience in Manchester had been, my response would have been laced with negativity and disappointment. Sometimes, seasons don't look like what we think they are going to. Ask me now, and I'll tell you that I'm incredibly thankful for this experience. It's pushed me in uncomfortable ways, but it's grown me a lot and looked like (I suspect) exactly what it was supposed to. I'll end now, because my 'short' list isn't so short after all. But first, some pictures of the city that I've called home for the past year:

Seasons

Like the winter snow melts into springtime blooms, and the summer greens turn to golden hues; so do seasons of life transform in but a moment. 

Being a native of southern California, seasons weren't something that I grew up with. I remember being a freshman in college and being overly excited when I saw the first frozen puddle in October. My delight carried through the first snowfall--during which I went sledding on borrowed cafeteria trays--and possibly the second, though it quickly faded when I realized that being perpetually cold wasn't actually as enjoyable as I had anticipated. It did, however, provide an excuse to purchase an entirely new wardrobe. My delight returned with the first blossoms of spring, and I was equally enthralled with the bold, deep colors of fall. While some are more pleasant than others, seasons are interconnected- intricately strung together by divine hands. 

There's something beautiful about seasons. They bring change- often anticipated, sometimes surprising. This most recent season in my life came unexpectedly, like a cool breeze on a hot afternoon. What seemed like a monotonous reality turned into a pleasant dream, which then turned into a pleasant reality. From time to time, it still feels like a dream, but it's isn't. It's a gift. It's a long-await gift that I dared to hope for, after what seemed like an eternity of drought. I felt forgotten, left behind. Still, I moved forward, though the cynic in me grew and the hope in me diminished. 

But God has this way of blowing my mind when I least expect it and most need it. I discovered this years ago, and I'm still discovering it today. New country, new community. New relationship. He knew all along, even when I didn't. Especially when I didn't. All of the details that worked together to open the doors to where I am now are evidence of his intimate involvement and abundant grace. Undeserved grace. A gift. 

Twenty-Six

I stumbled upon a book at Urban Outfitters a couple months back called "F*CK! I'M IN MY TWENTIES." I immediately identified and felt like that adequately explains a lot of things. Oh, roller coaster decade. Sinking and swimming. Valleys and mountains. Deserts and green pastures. Lots of learning and growing. Painful experiences that lead to more learning and growing. Seeing glimpses of glory, or at least faithfulness.

Twenty-five, a pivotal year in the decade, was very much characterized by the twists and turns, climbing and dropping, flipping of a roller coaster. I came out on top, though winded, having developed the machinery that keeps the train on the track--even when everything is turned upside down. Determination. Grace. Perseverance. Hope. Strength. The little engine that could. The view from the top was beautiful and fulfilling, and yet I saw in the horizon more mountains to be climbed and more valleys to face. Twenty-six.

It's only one more than twenty-five, and yet it seems so much older. So much more mature. It solidified my teetering on the fence of adulthood. I'm here, whether I like it or not. Where's the panic button? Actually, and surprisingly, the panic has been minimal. I've had a few months to settle into twenty-six, and I think I'm filling its shoes. Certainly, I have my days when I wonder how I got here and what it's all supposed to look like, but more and more, I'm understanding that it looks exactly the way it's supposed to. On this journey of learning how to live more fully and deeply where I am, I made some goals for myself this year. Most of them aren't anything magical or life-changing, but they're part of what I want twenty-six to look like.

Goals:
-Blog at least two times per month
-Take an international trip 
-Pursue photography more
-Laugh more
-Give myself more grace
-Read at least six books
-Practice thankfulness on a daily basis

Progress:
-It's May, and this is my third blog. I'm a bit behind.
-International trip booked. Leaving for Portugal this weekend. 
-All of my photography money was spent on purchasing extra memory cards for trip.
-All day, every day. Not really, but I think I have this one covered.
-Giving myself grace as I learn how to give myself grace.
-Finishing up my third book. Ahead of the game and loving it. Next on the list: Great Gatsby, Chasing Daylight, Blue Like Jazz, In Pursuit of God, Bossy Pants, Behind the Beautiful Forever.
-Thankful that there's grace for days when I don't feel thankful for anything.

In other news, twenty-six-year-old Anna still can't parallel park or use chopsticks. I suppose some things will never change. :)

How to tie this all in? The twenties are crazy. Crazy awesome. Crazy horrible. Crazy confusing. Part of the journey is learning how to navigate the crazy as effectively as possible, while still pursuing the things in life that are important to me. Let me know if you find a shortcut.

A Constant in the Change

It's been a while since I've written, and I've had a lot to write about, but I've needed some time to process and reflect. This is my attempt at getting back into it again.

Little did I know when I wrote my last blog just how relevant it would be. Shortly after my 25th birthday, things in my life changed significantly. I wasn't looking for the change, and I didn't want the change, but it happened nonetheless. And it shook my up, as change often does. It caused me to experience what I would call an identity crisis. Having a significant part of my life taken away forced me to analyze my situation and to re-think through some of the bigger questions that I suspect many of us are still working through:

Who am I?
Where do I belong?
From whom or what do I derive my worth?
Am I content with where I am in life?
How can I find fulfillment?
How does my faith impact the way I choose to live my life?

These are just a few of the biggies that I've been thinking through lately. Perhaps I should have them answered by now, but we all grow and develop and learn in different ways and at different paces. This is where I am right now. It's a painful process, this journey of self-discovery. But it's a critical one.

Do I have these questions answered yet? No. At least not entirely. I'm more sure of some things and less sure of others, but there is one thing that has been made abundantly clear in this process: God is with me every step of the way. How do I know? Because I've seen it. And I've felt it. And it's awesome. During the time of my deepest pain and confusion, God spoke these words to me in a very cool way (ask for details if you'd like to hear the story), "Ever present, I am never absent, I am always with you." The way this message was delivered to me blew my mind. And God's been doing that lately. He's been blowing my mind.

In my last blog post, I quoted Socrates: "The only real wisdom is knowing you know nothing." What I wrote next was a perfect introduction to this next chapter of my life: "That's about where I am these days. I don't know what I'm going to do with my life, I don't know where I'm going to do it, and I don't know who I'm going to do it with... Actually, that's not true. I'll be doing it with God beside me every step of the way. He has yet to leave my side, and since He's the one who knows everything, I'd say he's a pretty good companion to have."

Truth. I've been experiencing an unexpected and overwhelming sense of peace in all of this change and ambiguity, which is a good place to be. So as I wait for my next move, I'm resting in the knowledge and faith that God will be taking that step with me.

You may be wondering why I choose to be so vulnerable on my blog, and frankly, I often wonder that myself. Being vulnerable is dangerous, but it's also brave and honest and real. And that's what I am. I'm honest and real. Brave is debatable. :)

So Long, Early Twenties. 'Twas Nice Knowing You.

It's not like I'm expecting to feel any different. After all, this birthday will be just like the rest. I'll wake up in the morning and think to myself, "Anna, you are now one year older. Better start investing in anti-wrinkle cream." (Ha!). Nothing will have changed from today, when I am twenty-four, except that I'll be twenty-five, a quarter of a century old, and my car insurance rates will drop because I will officially be beyond the "wreck-less" years.

I realize that twenty-five is the new eighteen -or so I've been told- but for some reason, twenty-five seems different that the first five years of my twenties. It seems so much older. After all, my age can now be rounded to thirty, which is a terrifying thought (apologies to anyone reading this who is older than I am and is currently rolling their eyes at the thought of twenty-five being old- I'll be in your shoes one day soon). Everyone I talk to keeps telling me that twenty-five is young and that I still have my whole life ahead of me to figure things out. It's funny, though. Seems like the older I get, the less I have figured out. Or maybe that's the point.

Socrates once said, "The only real wisdom is knowing you know nothing." That's about where I am these days. I don't know what I'm going to do with my life, I don't know where I'm going to do it, and I don't know who I'm going to do it with. Actually, that's not true. I'll be doing it with God beside me every step of the way. He has yet to leave my side, and since He's the one that knows everything, I'd say he's a pretty good companion to have.

As I kiss twenty-four goodbye, I'd like to reflect on twenty-four things that I'm thankful for:

1. A God who loves me unconditionally, died and was resurrected to save me, and continues to pursue a relationship with me
2. The greatest parents in the world, who would do anything for me
3. Three amazing siblings who are such a joy and are growing up to be such wonderful individuals
4. The best girlfriends in the world, who often know me better than I know myself, and who, despite the distances, remain a constant source of support in my life
5. Grandparents who have been praying for me every day since I was born
6. A close-knit extended family who all love and support each other
7. The man who loves me
8. Jack and Walter
9. My church community
10. My job
11. Having a college degree
12. My international travel experiences
13. My Canon 20D
14. Good health
15. A car that works
16. My giant bedroom with a non-leaking roof over my head
17. My singing voice
18. The gift of creativity and art
19. Colleagues who care about me
20. The lovely weather we've been having this spring
21. Four weeks vacation every year
22. Living in a country where I can openly profess my faith
23. Having clean water to drink
24. Laughter

Homelessness

One of the things I've realized post-graduation is that I haven't been in one place for more than 3 months since I first left for college. And when I say the same place, I don't mean a single address. I mean the same state. The setup was perfect for me: school in Philly, Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter breaks in Michigan, and summers in San Diego. While some people may find that overwhelming, I love it. I love the variety. I love being able to travel. I have loved the extensive breaks that college offered me which allowed me to travel. So now, after spending an amazing "last" summer spread between California, Pennsylvania and Oklahoma, I'm finally home. Not home for vacation, but home for good. And I don't like it. It's been two days and I already feel stuck, smothered by the absence of possibility. Choked by the thought that I am no longer free to pick up and travel whenever I fancy. The worst part about it is that this doesn't seem like home to me. Home for me is a very fluid concept- the division of my life between three worlds. It is not a place, but a culmination of all the places that I've been and experiences that I've had. That is home for me. However, life is constantly changing, and I suppose I need to learn to change with it. Close the old chapter and open a new one as they say. The amazing thing is that I get to write the new chapter, at least to a certain extent.