20141002

Five Years

The first day of the quarter is tomorrow, marking the beginning of my sixth year in graduate school. I've been thinking a lot about the wonderful experiences I've had in the past five years.

I moved to Davis, California in September of 2009. My mother helped me set up my first apartment and we bonded while building furniture from IKEA and drinking, as always, Diet Coke. The day my mom left, I cried. And cried. And cried. I had never been so far away from home, so permanently. When I got back inside my apartment, after watching my mom drive down and away on A Street, I picked myself up. It was time to get going. To push through. I went to the Co-Op, became a member, and bought some organic, gluten-free delicious foods. Purple bell pepper.

That first quarter of graduate school was hard but I came in with a good group of people. They were immediate family, with support and advice a plenty. But by October, I was so homesick, that my mom bought me a plane ticket to Salt Lake. I went home, made caramels with my sister, and realized that home was still there. My mom had told me that home would always be there. It was a very comforting trip.

I spent the weekend dog sitting for my friend and she let me borrow her car. It was November, the month of the crush. I drove around Napa smelling that incredible, intoxicating smell. This was California. Adventure. Good food with real, fresh, local ingredients. Suddenly even the grapes I drank had a home. Zinfandel. Coincidentally, in my friend's apartment complex were LDS Missionaries. While I was not LDS, they were a little bit of home -- quirky, strange home -- right here in a new place.

Life was school. Worked hard, worked late. I had a lot of camaraderie. Good, good people. But it came time to apply to PhD programs. The decision came down to two. One in far, far away Alabama and the other one right here. While the school in Alabama had some incredible opportunities, I knew I couldn't beat having a great advisor and living in the best place in the world. So I finally decided on Davis. As soon as I told the other school, immediately I knew, I had made the right decision. Knowing where I'd be spending the next 3-4 years of my life meant I could do something I hadn't done seriously in a long time: Date.

My first, only, and last online date was with Sean. And from the beginning it was perfect. Sean figured me out quickly. I need adventure. Not necessarily big adventures but I love experiencing the novel. Immediately my life became frequent trips to the Bay Area, sushi and hole-in-the-wall Mexican, and soon I fell not only in love with Sean, but with the de Guzman family.

I moved here as an agnostic and fell in love with Christ and His strange little church. Two and a half years of learning and discernment, I became Catholic. Which now only seems natural.

I've become a more confident researcher and maybe a better one. I've gathered a good selection of professional experiences. After years of being unsure of what I wanted to do once I got out of graduate school, I now have a plan and the pieces in place to make it happen.

In five years, things have come together for me. I saw it all happen this summer. I worked an internship in sexual health, where they were flexible enough for me to take off for a wedding and honeymoon of my dreams. My Catholic wedding was attended by those friends who made living to California and being in graduate school a pleasure. My family, supportive at every step of the way, was there. We drank California wine, ate avocados, and spent the next day on the beach, toes buried in the sand.

It has been a beautiful five years in California. A lot of hard work but a lot of pure joy too. Good friends, true love, and community. Good food, places to be, and sights to see. There have been rough days, weeks, and months. It has all been worth it to be here and to find myself in this place with my love, family, and my friends. But I still tear up as I think of cooking those purple bell peppers alone, my mother on her way back to my home.

20140506

Reflections from Easter Vigil: Part II

"You can see how faith accomplishes a revolution in us, one which we can call Copernican; it removes us from the center and puts God at the center; faith immerses us in his love and gives us security, strength, and hope. Seemingly, nothing has changed; yet, in the depths of our being, everything is different. With God, peace, consolation, gentleness, courage, serenity, and joy, which are all fruits of the Holy Spirit (cf. Galatians, 5:22), find a home in our heart; then our very being is transformed; our way of thinking and acting is made new, it becomes Jesus' own, God's own, way of thinking and acting. Dear friends, faith is revolutionary and today I ask you: Are you open to entering into this revolutionary wave of faith? Only by entering into this wave will your young lives make sense and be so fruitful!" 
-Pope Francis
Before Easter Vigil, we Elect and Candidates would talk about what it would be like after we were baptized and confirmed. We were warned to not expect the Heavens to literally open and for actual doves to rest upon us. Let's just say there was a lot of hype and a lot of surprise. It hasn't made everything better, everything enlightened, everything sunnier or easier. Indeed the hardest task of reorienting myself around God, putting God at the center, is really an on-going task. These are ideas others have shared with me. They're starting to sink in a little bit.

What Pope Francis is talking about isn't a one-time decision. Each day, each moment, I chose to be a more peaceful, kind, hardworking person not for me, but for God and my community. Each day, each moment, comes with a choice to enter into the revolution. It is not as simple as the decision I made and the Sacraments I received on one night.

I've been reflecting quite a bit on confirmation, the sacrament that I was the least concerned about at Easter Vigil. With these thoughts of how "seemingly, nothing has changed," this Sacrament feels like the one that has changed me the most. With an symbol like this, it seems quite obvious...


I probably should have been more concerned about the fire than the water, don't you think?

Through confirmation, I feel strength to convert everyday, to reorient everyday. I hope to remember to draw on and pray for this feeling as time goes on.


Each Sunday, until Pentecost, we neophytes wear our white robes at mass. Mine still has the smell of the Sacred Chrism -- a wonderful reminder of Confirmation. I am going to miss my robe. The Water will still be there, the Eucharist will still be there, but Confirmation will be a memory.

20140424

Reflections from Easter Vigil: Part I

This quarter is quickly becoming the craziest one yet. Responsibilities are piling on, quickly overwhelming me. I so much want to sit in quiet and soak up my fresh, new sacraments. Spend more time in prayer. Catch a weekday Mass. But I have a million things on my list. I repeat to myself that God have given me enough time in each day to do what I need to do.

I've been reflecting as much as I can on the Sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation, and Eucharist. Having family visit us over the weekend added to the joy of everything. I've been thinking a lot about how I've converted, turned over. And Easter Vigil was a night of turning over a new leaf. So much healing happened here:


I read this reflection today in a little book I have of Pope Francis's writings, addresses, and homilies. How he talks about renewal really speaks to me.

"The grace contained in the sacraments of Easter is an enormous potential for the renewal of our personal existence, of family life, of social relations. However, everything passes through the human heart: if I let myself be touched by the grace of the Risen Christ, if I let him change me in that aspect of mine which is not good, which can hurt me and others, I allow the victory of Christ to be affirmed in my life."
-Regina Caeli address, April 1, 2013

It is a new life even though my days are cluttered with things drifting along from the past.