An Open Letter from a 2020 College Senior

I finished my degree yesterday. I took my last exam and then I was done. I had nothing left academically to do before I would be allowed to walk the stage and hear my name.

"Christa Rahl: Journalism."

Those three words probably don't speak the volumes to you that they do to me. To me, they shout victory over reporting classes that I hated, editing classes that I loved and modules that started with 130 that made me cry.

Those words remind me that the University of Nebraska-Lincoln has been my home for four years. They allow me to reminisce on how much I have truly grown in those short years. It feels like forever ago that I was the president of Harper Hall just fighting to put some twinkle lights in the trees. It feels like ages ago that I got the email telling me I was hired as a Smith RA. It feels like a separate lifetime ago that I first met my professors that made my college the best on UNL's campus.

I had a professor with a Pulitzer that made fun of me for always fighting for my A in the class (but he gave it to me anyway). I had an instructor that saw herself in me and knew that sometimes that means I need some brownies to go with my mental breakdowns. I had an instructor that had interviewed anyone who was anyone and claimed she didn't like Trump because of his cologne.

I had a remarkable time at UNL and getting my degree from the College of Journalism and Mass Communications. But I won't hear those words this May. I won't decorate my cap with a Hamilton lyric or a T-Swift quote.

Instead, I will sit on my couch in my cap and a dress of some sort and watch my chancellor confer my degree from 45 miles away.

That breaks my heart.

College was a great time. I loved meeting my residents each year, I loved learning from those remarkable teachers but I also loved having a little fun on the side.

If you would have told me this past August that the night before I graduated college I wouldn't be dancing my bootie off at Junction, I would have blamed in on Housing. Nobody would have guessed it would be because a deadly virus decided to take over the world.

So I am missing the closure. The last time I saw my friends, I didn't say much of a goodbye because I didn't know I would need to. Now it's been almost a month since I have even left my house in Papillion.

College friends are the best. You meet them when you need them and they stick around through the thick of it because we're all going through college and the crap it throws at us together. I love the people I have grown close to in college because they've seen me at every stage.

The girls I met and got close to in college watched me fall in love, have my heart broken and then become who I am today. They have hung out with me at the bar and at the library because balance is important. But I thought I would be able to thank them and tell them how proud that they grew with me. But instead I went home on April 10 and never came back.

I will go back to my campus. I will take my graduation pictures. I may even go get my master's degree at some point. But nothing will compare to how shallow and empty this ending is for my bachelor's degree in Journalism. And I hate that.

A Note From an RA About Working at Home

When you think of your college Resident Assistant you probably have one of two thoughts. They were either a certified nark or you found it hilarious that they partied right there with you.

Well, there's a lot that RAs do other than bust your parties and tell you to study more.

I was an RA at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln on campus for 2.67 years and am finishing my semester as a virtual RA from my parents' house.

So I know a thing or two about the job.

One of the hardest parts of being an RA to get used to is the lack of a separation between work and home. As an RA your work is your home and your home is your work. So now that the world has been flipped and working at home has become the necessity for majority of the globe, I thought I would share some tips and tricks to navigating this weird world.

1. Dedicate different spots in your home for work and lazy times. For me, this meant I had a desk for working on classwork, a certain chair I sat on for roommate conflicts and I lofted my bed to keep it out of mind while I was working. This helped my brain separate my job from my school work from my time to relax. For you, this could mean having a spot in the living room to do your work and Zoom meetings that's separate from where you typically watch Netflix and eat Cheeto's. If your mind has already associated the place you plan to work from with a place to be lazy, it will take a lot of work to restructure your subconscious.

2. Move spots when you change tasks. For example, I would talk to residents on my futon for intentional interactions, log them on my laptop at my desk and then move to a different part of the couch to veg for a little bit. This seems like a small detail, but it trains your brain to realize when you're working and when you can play Candy Crush for the next hour. You don't want to have those places overlap.

3. Monitor how long you are working. This can be hard since you are never really told to stop working anymore. It's always there and always staring at you, making you think you haven't accomplished enough. This is not true. You probably have accomplished enough!! There tends to always be more to do, but you don't always have to do it. That leads to Number Four.

4. Make a daily to-do list every morning. This will help you boost your productivity because it will keep your mind on what lies ahead. The key to this tip is being realistic about what you plan to do with your day. By now you likely know how to prioritize your tasks so that you do your work based on what needs done and by when. Take a look at your week and break down bigger projects so a massive deadline doesn't have you up all night the night before it's due. Then, once you have accomplished what's on your daily list, get up and do something that isn't your job. On the flip side, if you feel you haven't done enough with your day by the time you would typically be coming home, forgive yourself and let yourself finish the next day. Unless there is a major deadline or you can finish it within 15 minutes, it can wait. I promise.

5. Take breaks. This is a healthy practice no matter where you're working, but being burnt out at home just sucks in a different way. Don't let yourself get to the point of burnout by taking extra care of yourself during this pandemic. Self-care should be a priority, especially now. So be sure to get outside and enjoy the sun or read a book or take a nap. Whatever you need to do every few hours will help you in the long run.

6. DO NOT DO YOUR WORK ON YOUR BED. Research has proven this is not a good idea.

7. Be nice to yourself. These are unprecedented times, so treat yourself like you would a younger you or a best friend.

If you have questions about what this RA did or just want to know more about why I said something, let me know! I loved being an RA on campus, but it was ridiculously hard finding the balance between work, home and school once they all overlapped. I feel for all of you working at home.

♥
Christa
Smith 8 RA

Smith 8- How Great!!

If you know me at all, you knew this post was coming. So did I. I just didn't know when it would come or if I would ever have all the right words to say. I still doubt I can completely define what it meant to be the Smith 8 RA for 3.6667 school years.

So now I'm homesick for a place that will never be mine again.

I've officially lived in Eastside Suites for a week now and I am realizing just how much I took my time in Smith for granted. For example, I talk to myself ALL THE TIME and I never realized it until I started to get self-conscious that my new suitemate is going to think I am absolutely insane. Also, Harper Dining is officially closed and I will fight anyone who tells me that's not a loss in itself during these already trying times.

Anyway, I have adored being the Smith 8 Resident Assistant and I am devastated that my time there came to a close in such a weird and difficult way. This is not purely based on my absolutely outstanding view of the capitol building and Memorial Stadium (even though I miss it like crazy). It is more about who I got to spend my time with during community builders and random nights in the lobby. (And yes, even Bachelor nights this year.)

Being in one room and on one floor for 3/4 of college gave me a strong connection to the hall and especially my floor. I have stories for every party and get together from each and every year. (When anyone finds out you're an RA, they always ask for a story!) And I have better, deeper memories that I share less often because those moments are special for my residents and me to share.

My first year on Smith 8, my girls had to deal with a new RA dealing with a new RD dealing with a new ADRL and we all found our way together. I describe my first year as the year Smith 8 helped me find myself as an RA. I was on the floor fairly often but was also crazy busy managing classes, my work at The DN/ University Communications and going home to see my then-boyfriend. We got by and my girls will never know how much they meant to me in those random times. The year was a whirlwind and I can honestly say I wasn't the best RA, so I apologize to my girls. I was more dedicated to being friends with my hall staff than I was to making connections with my residents. But to my staff from 2017-18, I love you all to pieces and I can't wait to dance at all of your weddings.


My second year residents helped me find myself as a person. I made connections with this group quickly and with relative ease. So when I got dumped in September and one of my residents (I am still unsure who) saw me tear a photo off of my Where Am I board as I was crying and leaving, they kept an eye out for me. When I came back and they could hear me in my room straight-up heartbroken, they called the Duty RAs to help me out. Let's just say, I have never felt more loved by someone I had met two months prior. This became my dynamic with Smith 8 Year 2. I will go to the grave acknowledging that they helped me more than I helped them in 2018-19. I made great friendships on that floor but it always surprised me how we were able to keep a respectful dynamic. I might have needed their love and support, but I was also still in charge and better not find alcohol in the room. It was amazing.

2019-20 was a rollercoaster. The floor this year was easily my loudest and most rambunctious floor but also the one that I felt most comfortable as an RA with. And thank God for that. This year's floor called themselves my "crackheads" and I would not disagree. I always knew I would end up laughing and wondering what the hell just happened any time more than two or three of them showed up at the same time. I was afraid of coming back for Year 3 because I have heard it's the hardest and I really didn't know how I felt about having another new RD. But I am beyond grateful that I came back and was able to hang out with these girls. They made my job worth doing and I consider them all my giant family. Some of my girls know I have adopted them as sisters and the rest that I was less close to, I know I could consider them a cousin of sorts. But they all belong in my heart and they each mean the world to me.

Because what they don't tell you about being an RA is how hard it is to say goodbye. I have stories of residents that I still see occasionally and I have basically begged everyone to add me on social media so I still get my resident interactions (I just don't have to log them anymore). I actually do care about each of their lives outside of this job, I know that's crazy. But other residents, I haven't heard from since they handed in their room key. That's okay and I understand, it's all a part of the job.

But this year was different. This year move-out hit me like a truck. There were some residents I watched leave and then went back to my room and cried. Some residents I was purposely not around to say goodbye to so I could pretend they'd be back around after they got tired of their parents. And it was all to keep myself going. Normally, I move out with my girls and tell them to say hi if they see me on campus. But this time I stayed until they were all gone and then moved into my suite.


It's not the same over here because Eastside doesn't hold the same significance to me. And I am thankful for that in a weird way. I am thankful because I know Smith 8 was special and what I was able to accomplish with roughly 120 girls can't and won't ever be repeated in the exact same way. Smith 8 was where so many of my most precious memories were made and that means I did something right. Sure, 818 meant the world to me because it was where I had some amazingly intimate moments. But the whole floor holds a giant place in my heart. Because that's where my girls were. And that was home.

So if you've ever heard me complain about my job as an RA, I do stand by those complaints. It is incredibly hard to be an RA. There is absolutely no distinction between work and home and there were many many times I wanted to quit after a dumb duty call in the middle of the night. And yes, I am still a little pissed we never made a Smith 8 handshake or our own hand symbol like Greek life. But, right now I have my rose-colored glasses on and I am not thinking about the job when I say I miss Smith 8. I am thinking about the people that made Smtih 8 what it was and will forever be in my heart.

So if you were ever my resident, just know I seriously love you and I am ALWAYS one message away. I am 100% here for you because I stand by the "once your RA, always your RA" mentality.



Thanks for reading,
♥ Christa Rahl
Smith 8 RA

Where are the 26,000?

Ever since COVID-19 took over our lives, I have found myself going for a lot of walks. I went for some walks with and without my dog in Papio over Spring Break and I have gone on many more walks ever since coming back to campus.

My reality feels fake right now. I go on walks and question my watch and calendar. There's no way campus can be this empty in April, right? There's no way the Union could be closed. There's no way I would ever move out of Smith 818 into a dorm that feels like a mini-vacation until I could return to my home away from home. There's no way my girls are gone. There's no way I will never have another class in Andersen.

But there is a way. And my watch is right. My calendar is accurate. And campus is a ghost town. Because novel coronavirus has taken over and taken everything away.

It's taken away companionship in a traditional sense. It took away my normal. It took away Smith 8. It took away a physical May 2020 graduation ceremony. It took away the Spring Game for my football addiction. It took away GradFest and several banquets I was excited to attend. It took away knowing if I will see some of my friends again.


It took away my sense of control. I am just rolling with the punches now. It's all I can do. Every time I learn something is canceled, graduation included, I just nod and realize this is 2020's reality. It took away my job in Smith 8 and the sense of control I felt over that whole hall.

I wrote this on Monday after I left Smith for my last time:

"I got locked out of my dorm today and I’ll be honest, it took my breath away. My NCard access isn’t something I ever thought about but losing it killed me. As an RA, I’ve grown to feel like Smith Hall is basically my own. Smith 8 was especially mine. After three years of roaming the hallway, I gained a sort of confidence that I can’t even explain. It was home. My girls were my family. And now everyone is gone. Everyone is either at home, a temporary apartment/suite or spending time anywhere but Smith Hall. It doesn’t feel real. It feels like I missed something. It feels like I missed April and now it’s time for graduation. Because that’s how move-out is supposed to work. But it’s not like that this year. This year I had to move my RAing into a dorm I get lost in. I moved in with a suitemate I’d never met. I have classes to finish with professors I’ll never see again outside of a screen. It feels fake. It feels like a weird dystopian fiction novel. But it’s real. It’s real because it’s happening and I can’t stop it. It’s real because no matter what, I couldn’t stay in the room I fell in love in and was later dumped via a phone call in. I couldn’t stay in the room my friends knew to just knock. I couldn’t stay in a room with a board telling anyone who walked by where I was or what I was up to. I couldn’t stay in the room that saw all too many roommate conflicts and resolutions (for most). I couldn’t stay in the room that saw some really early mornings for football games and late nights after Junction and Iggys. I couldn’t stay in MY room. My home. I had to find a temporary home in Eastside Suites. I have no doubt that the Suites will treat me well and my room is safe and lovely. But I don’t think it’ll ever be MY room. And that’s okay. I’ll only be here until the first week of May. And then I’ll find myself back in my Papio home where I once again feel I belong and things make sense. And after a few months, I’ll move down to Orlando and you already know I’ll find a way to become a princess at least once. So I’m not at my home anymore and not a lot makes sense anymore. But I’m going to be okay. Spring is coming. Summer is coming. Home is coming."

But the weirdest thing it has taken away are the thousands of people I don't know. I miss the hustle and bustle of a Big 10 campus. I miss all the energy and movement people created as they moved to and from classes. I miss about 25,000 people I never met.

On my walks, I try to count the people I see out and about and it's rarely more than I can fit on my fingers. That's healthy. That's what we need right now. But I hate it. And I miss my Huskers.

Being Positive Is WORK

I'm going to be honest real quick, being the girl that said yes this summer was way more fun than the girl that wants to be both fearlessly authentic AND positive this year. It's work to keep myself positive this year even though I have always called myself the happy girl.

But somehow being the positive one means more than starting each day sending my Snapchat friends list a reason to smile while keeping the streaks. 

Being the positive one means embracing the parts of my life that I don't necessarily enjoy and taking a positive spin on them to help me keep going. My professor says to "embrace the suck" but that phrase just doesn't sit well with me. 

So I have learned to take what life throws at me and run with it. 

These things have many different names so I will start with a few and if you have questions, that's what the comment button is for. 

First of all, I am becoming more body positive in 2020. And yes, I am taking some ownership of that term for those of us on the smaller side with confidence. You see, I have been working on my confidence ever since my breakup in September 2018. When Joey dumped me, I started working on my "revenge abs" to try and get him to run back to me instead of into the arms of someone new (even though he wasn't that kind of guy.) Spoiler alert- that didn't work at all. 

Anyway, I realized recently that I can't do things just to impress other people or get anyone's attention. Sure, this came about with a Joey concept, but it has rung true for my whole life. I have always wanted to be the favorite student or the girl with the best relationship with her superior. I mean, let's be honest, I have my fourth-grade teacher and my elementary school guidance counselor as Facebook friends and I thought this deserved an award of some sort.

So I have been hitting the rec for myself lately and it has felt amazing. I go to the Rec to run on MWF since I don't really have classes. Then just yesterday I didn't set a schedule for my workout and wanted to see what I could do and hit five miles. I have never been more proud of myself. 

So yes, I have been letting myself workout for myself and not the voices in my head that wanted to die when they saw a higher number than usual on the scale. I am working out for my own endorphins and my own physical well-being. And I love it. 

In the past, I have hated going to the gym because I hated the "that skinny bitch" looks from girls that are there to look like me one day. I didn't understand why they didn't want me there, but now I know it comes from a place of anger, jealousy and ignorance. I may have ran 5 miles (47:00), but I don't think I could do a push-up or a pull-up to save my life. So it works out. We can co-exist. And I'm allowed to be proud of my body, especially now that my metabolism is slowing down and I actually have to work for it.

I don't have to feel bad for looking for the non-existant XS size marker because stores don't want others to feel bad. I can feel a bit excluded. And I can be happy to wear my size 2 jeans because, honestly, I'm a little sad my 00s don't fit anymore.

Sure, many of you won't see a difference worth worrying about but the day the photo on the left popped up on my Timehop, I was legitimately pissed I had grown since I took it freshman year of college. 

But the thing is, I am learning to be positive about my body in so many ways. I am positive and confident because I have taught myself those skills. I am also teaching myself to take care of my face even more than before. 

I have had acne since like the first day of seventh grade. I have tried all the home remedies. I have done the Proactive treatments and debated Accutane but I am seriously afraid of it. So now I am on two prescriptions. One pill that I believe is causing me to gain weight and one cream. They're working, slowly but surely. But I am also helping myself by drinking a shit ton of water, wearing moisturizer all the time and doing a face mask at least twice a week. Some people call this self-care. At this point, I am considering it part of my proper hygiene. Because if I am going to be stressed by classes and current and future jobs, I have to help my face adjust to all of it.

And sometimes that means throwing on a little makeup to boost my confidence just enough. I used to think makeup was just meant to impress someone else. But in reality, a bit of concealer and a fun eye shadow can help me feel like a million bucks and when that happens, nobody can stand in my way.

Because I am an RA. And sometimes that just sucks. But I am working on letting my positivity shine through there as well. On Smith 8, I am a positive RA most when I am ready for my girls and know what's coming. However, I'm an RA and I rarely know what's coming. 

For those of you that know me well, you know I absolutely hate talking while going to the bathroom. I hate the whole idea of it. So when my resident walked in the other night as I was brushing my teeth and said, "I was hoping to see you here," I was not so positive. Moments like these and moments with staff meetings and other less than enjoyable things are what make me more negative about my job. But I am looking at it with a positive light more and more because I know I will miss my girls when I graduate in May.

I am also aware that I am not in the dorm helping them as often as I could be. 

For example, I am also finding my positivity shine through at my part-time job at OMT. OMT took me in when AH closed last August. I will admit adjusting to both the different way of doing things and having an hourly job in college at all has been a lot to swallow. But I am pushing myself to dress up for work, wear a little makeup to ooze confidence and continually learn more about the store so I can understand everything a little better each week since I am still technically the new girl in a family business. 

This can be a hard situation to mold into, especially coming from AH where I was part of the core group, but just today one of my coworkers told a customer I was basically family, so I'll take it. Even if she was lying. 

Overall, though, I am getting better and finding the sunshine in the world. I have not had any serious bats with my usual seasonal depression this year, so I am thanking God for that. I am also well on my way to finding a church group, one baby step at a time. So things are good in the hood. I just have to keep smiling. 

Thanks for reading!

Christa

Breaks can be stressful too

Let's be real here, breaks from school are the best. I never find myself not needing a break from classes. Even though sometimes our breaks are ill-placed, I still find myself enjoying every second of not being in class.

But, here's the deal, not all breaks are created equal.

Labor Day comes right at the beginning of the semester and I often use it as a day to get ahead in my classes. The same thing happens in January for Martin Luther King Day.

Then comes Fall Break in October. This break is a give and take. Some years, I do nothing. Some years I go home. As an RA, sometimes I bite the bullet and offer to stay since we need half the staff in the building. This year was different, though, I got to go on a girls trip to Washington DC and it was amazing.

But now I'm counting down to do lists until Thanksgiving Break. I love Thanksgiving Break. But I do not think my school truly understands what Thanksgiving Break is for. I plan to see my family and hopefully some friends over Thanksgiving Break. Catching up with these people will take a while. Then on Friday I have the Iowa game.

What I'm saying is, Thanksgiving Break is a tease. With only five days to catch up with everyone, stuff your face and get back to campus, there is no time left to keep working on homework or study for exams.

I literally have a to do list for each day until Break that I am working off of because I don't want to forget anything and I know there are a million things to do.

When I get back from Thanksgiving, I have an exam on Tuesday afternoon, an online presentation due that evening and Capstone edits on the rise.

There are only 10 days between coming back from Thanksgiving Break and my first final.

So yeah, November is tough. 

That's why we love Winter Break so much.

In between semesters, I don't have to worry about deadlines and projects. I can simply go home and be a kid again for a little bit.

Sure, it won't be the same as elementary school and I will definitely be taking advantage of some extra retail hours. But I am not required to come back having accomplished anything.

This week, the week before Thanksgiving Break, is a rough one. I am trying to get everything done so when I go home, I can actually be at home.

I love being home with my family and old friends. So I don't want anything to keep me locked away in my room away from them.

I know Thanksgiving Break will go too quickly. That's always how it goes.

But once December 20 (earlier if I can manipulate my jobs right) and then December 24 at 10 a.m. (thanks RA life) hit, I am home free.

And I cannot wait.

I think I'm an anomaly, but I am so excited to hang out with my mom and do all the Christmas stuff.

I want to go to my brother's basketball games and workout with the other one.

Because Winter Break is when I don't have to be an adult all the time. I can be a girl with her family in her hometown. And, somehow, I still love that.

Maybe it's because this is my last "normal" Winter Break or maybe I'm just hormonal, but I am ready to go home and I am ready for a break.

Not everyone leaves

I went to church today. As it is Sunday, I am sure some of you are not surprised. Some of you think this is something I do every week. I probably have found a church in Lincoln I consider my own and I am probably in the life groups and have a strong friend group there.

You would be wrong.

My recent conversations with Jesus have all been during Husker football games and you can imagine how one-sided they are.

This was my first time going to church in Lincoln since my freshman year of college. And it kills me to admit that.

It took me a long time to realize I had separated myself from my faith, which I told myself during my senior year of high school that I would not do. But, I drifted into the world of excuses and once I drifted, I didn't want to be the awkward girl who was "new to church."

Well. I was the new girl in church today who didn't quite know how to receive communion since apparently, not everyone does it the same. But that's okay.

I'm not proud of it. But I am okay with where I am on my journey. I have never had the typical story at my churches, so here's another step in my path. I want to get involved in a church starting November of my senior year of college.

Better late than never I guess.

It's okay because I went to church for God. I didn't really go for me. I went because I was embarrassed at my lack of commitment to my faith and I was sad when I couldn't answer someone's questions about being a Christian earlier this week. I went because I knew it was what I needed to do.

And, holy crap was I nervous.

I was going to church with a resident on my floor from last year. I texted her after visiting a mosque for one of my classes when someone asked me about the trinity and I was not able to stand up for my faith. I asked if I could go to church with her because I knew her faith was strong and she was a wonderful person to have on the floor last year. I specifically remember sitting in her room last year watching a Louie Giglio video explaining how great God is.

Anyway, I texted her to ask if I could go to church and she said absolutely. I knew she would.

That was on Thursday.

I spent Friday and Saturday night wondering how I would backtrack myself out of actually going. Sure, I was embarrassed and convicted on Thursday, but I'd be okay, right?

No.

I made myself get ready for church. I turned on a Spotify playlist called "Today's Christian Hits" so I could have a chance at participating in the worship music.

As I listened to the songs play as I did my morning stretches/ab workout, I had to stop and listen to the lyrics.

Thanks to Matthew West and some subtle divine intervention, I had to just sit at my desk and listen to how loved I am by the God of the universe.

"The God Who Stays" has now been on repeat for several hours.

Because it was exactly what I needed to hear today.

West sings about how there's nothing that can separate me from Christ. His lyrics tell of how I am with God forever. He's the God who stays. Who runs in my direction when the whole world walks away.

That last line hit hard.

In my leadership class, we are required to do a lot of introspection and reflection. This has brought to mind how often I find that people leave my life. It's a common theme that people in my life stay for seasons, not lifetimes. And that kills me. All I want is that "girl gang" or the friend group that doesn't shift and feels the same after being apart for ages.

In my class, I related to a classmate who shared that she doesn't trust easily because "people always leave." This hit home for me. While my family is my lifeline and will always have my back, my friend support system has been everchanging for as long as I can remember.

I typically keep this to myself. It can be hard to talk about being lonely and not having a group with people because it feels like you're offending them or trying to guilt them into staying.

I talked about this concept with my ex-boyfriend and I am still trying to convince myself that he didn't stay with me for as long as he did because of the guilt idea. That sucks.

And I still think about him- heck, he was in my dreams last night and we've been apart for over a year. So I feel like I am the only one that sticks with people through thick and thin. And that can be exhausting, let me tell you. And honestly, it often goes the opposite direction and I end up on my own a lot.

But that's not how God works. God sees through the loneliness and wants to be with me. He wants to have a relationship with me. Forever.

He doesn't give up on me because I got annoying. When I don't talk to Him for a while, he doesn't run off to someone new and better. When my life gets hard and I shut down a little bit, He is there to comfort me as I cry into my pillow. He knows my future. He knows what I will do when I grow up in May. He doesn't mind that I am a stress mess. He wants to help me through it.

And that's incredible to me. Because nobody else does that willingly. He knows every single mistake I have made and the things I will never tell a soul. Yet He loves me anyway. It's crazy.

It's amazing.

So, I am working on mending that relationship. I want to be Christa that is known for her faith again. I don't want to have to tell people I'm a Christian, I want strangers to be able to see it in my eyes.

I had a mentor ask me a couple years ago (while I didn't have a church) how Jesus and I were. I didn't want to admit that I hadn't been attending church, so I laughed it off and said fine. I then stopped talking to that mentor.

I don't want to do that anymore. And I know this is not going to be an easy choice to make. I know I am going to have to be accountable for my actions and my Sundays. But it's something I think will help me in a multitude of ways. I know myself and I know some things will change and others will just be a part of who I am.

If anything, it will remind me that there is always at least one constant in my life when everything around me feels like it's spiraling out of control.

At church today we learned about how our achievements aren't why God loves us. That took the weight right off my shoulders. I haven't achieved anything new in what feels like a lifetime. I just keep pushing myself through things I earned years ago. But nothing I do can change God's love for me and that is incredible.

So I'll take that with me going forward this week and semester and finish out strong with a new love and desire in my heart.

P.S. I love my floor this year but hanging out with my resident from last year made me miss Smith 8 2018 so much. Smith 8 2019 we have work to do.