I am published!

Check out my very first magazine article! It appeared in the online version of Credo Magazine, a Christian teen magazine published by Barefoot Ministries. I've revised and re-read this story countless times. (Microsoft Word actually begged me to give it a break.) But somehow, seeing this story on a real-life website makes me want to jump up and down. It was a ton of fun to write something for more than just a class grade, and I can't wait to write some more. 

On a side note, this week has been tough. Jobs seem to be scooting past me, and I'm not entirely sure what God has in front of me. But I'm so thankful that He allowed me to write this article. Seeing it on the page reminds me that He provides. He is faithful. I felt like it was His way of saying, "Heather, be proud of the gifts I've given you. Have hope. I promise I won't make you work at McDonalds this summer."

Check it out at www.CredoMagazine.com

There is a link on the home page and it is entitled, "I Am Not a Mountain Woman."

Hope you enjoy it!

Find yourself first.

        (Excerpt from "Six Things My Little Sister Should Know About Dating")     

           Somewhere at my parent’s house, in a corner cupboard, is a scrapbook filled with my childhood. It is bursting with pictures that showcase braces and acne and pitiful fashion choices. Every time I look at it, I am horrified. Then I become instantly grateful. Grateful that those years have passed and that I made it through looking like a real person. I remember that period of awkwardness when I was constantly outgrowing shoes and boys only cared about Legos and no matter how much I begged, Mom still wouldn’t let me wear mascara.

            At some point, things begin feeling normal again. Then you enter high school and suddenly you are worried about calories and cell phones and who the hot guy will ask to homecoming. High school is great in many ways, and you do plenty of growing up. College is another type of a growing up, though. You start to feel like an adult and everyone starts asking you what you will do with your life. So, you plan for the future, because after all, it’s college and you’re supposed to know what you’re doing. These days the hot guy is a loser, so you start to think about who might be the right one for you. It all gets a little intense. Friends get engaged and married and if you aren’t one of them, you begin to feel like maybe those scrapbook pictures are still your reality.

            It’s hard to get a grip on life when so much is changing within and around you. One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned is that if you don’t know yourself, it’s hard to make a dating relationship work. Either you end up with someone completely wrong for you or you compromise in ways you never thought you would. You leave friends in the dust, make that person the center of your world and forget that you had an identity before you met them. Don’t get sucked in. Begin the process of finding yourself first, and then you will have something to offer in a relationship.

            There are two quotes about this topic that I love. The first comes from the pen of Ralph Waldo Emerson who says, “Insist on yourself, never imitate.” The second is from the wise Dr. Seuss who says, “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.” Both of these men understand the importance of finding yourself. Once you discover who you are, don’t apologize for it and don’t change for anyone. The guy who is worth giving your heart to is the one who will love the uniqueness that only you possess.

Don't forget to wash your hands!

(February Devotional--for NHC Westside)

The other day I stumbled across an article from the New York Times that claimed, 25% of men admit to not washing their hands after using the restroom. Ugh! I wanted to gag, put on a pair of mittens and refuse to hold my boyfriend’s hands unless he sanitized those grubby paws in front of me. This hygiene discovery rattled my world. I mean, how hard is it to us a little soap and water? It takes almost no time or effort, and besides that, not washing them is just plain gross.

I wonder if maybe we just get lazy. Maybe we get swept up in the business of life and forget that stuff like washing our hands is important. And then I wonder if we do the same thing with our spiritual lives. Sometimes we get bored or tired or lazy, and before we know it, we have given up on purity. We have stopped spending time with God and asking him to continually clean us. It’s a terribly harsh question, but I think it is worth asking: have we, like the icky men, stopped caring about spiritual contamination?

That’s a dangerous place to find ourselves. Psalm 24:3-5 says, “Who shall go up into the mountain of the Lord? Or who shall stand in His Holy Place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who has not lifted himself up to falsehood or to what is false, nor sworn deceitfully. He shall receive blessing from the Lord and righteousness from the God of his salvation.” From this verse we can see that God honors purity. But that doesn’t mean it will be easy. Purity takes effort and we have to be purposeful in our actions. It is only when we commit to having a pure heart that God will be able to work through us. We must make time to scrub our souls.

During the month of February, Westside will be tackling the issue of sexual purity. As we enter into this month, let’s be intentional about examining our lives for anything that isn’t clean. Maybe it will relate specifically to sexual purity, or maybe it will be another area that needs to be washed. Whatever it is, I know that God is going to honor us for our honesty and willingness to be cleansed. So, here’s to scented hand soap and trusting God to renew our hearts. Bring on the suds! 

Let it Snow

        This week we got our first burst of winter weather. The storm was accompanied by sharp winds, slippery sidewalks and the kind of cold that makes your nose stick together if you breathe too deeply. Despite these mildly uncomfortable conditions, I am a firm believer that there is nothing more magical than walking in the snow. As I toddle my way to class, in boots that are a size too big, I can’t resist the urge to stick out my tongue and lick the snowflakes that fly in my face. Everything around me is covered in a beautiful layer of icing and I am in awe of the way my daily trudge across campus has become a wonderland stroll. The bare trees and muddy grass, which were leftover from fall, are now transformed into a glittering display of icicles and fluff.

The old is gone. The new has come. These are the words that ring through my ears as a snowflake kisses my cheek. And then I am reminded of a song I have sung in church thousands of times, “My sin had left a crimson stain, He washed it white as snow.” I begin to sing it under my breath. As it turns out, this line comes almost directly from the Bible. So this week I made time to read Isaiah 1:16-19, which says, “Stop doing wrong, learn to do right! Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow. ‘Come now, let us reason together,’ says the LORD. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool. If you are willing and obedient, you will eat the best from the land.’”

What a perfect picture of forgiveness! Snow. This year has been difficult for me. At times, my heart has felt like the ugly, barren trees. I have felt useless and hopeless, unsure of my purpose. I have doubted God, hurt others, and tried to handle everything in my own strength. Then the words of Isaiah remind me that I have a choice in the matter, “If you are willing and obedient” then you will be cleansed. I can invite forgiveness into my life. I can invite the snow to cover all of my grime and make me glimmer. However, I believe there is one important difference between the literal snow and the healing that can be received from our Heavenly Father. Snow melts. It only temporarily covers the muddiness beneath the surface. But God’s forgiveness and love transforms us permanently, making us beautiful on all levels.

I am so thankful for the snow that has brought joy into my daily routine. But I am even more grateful for the renewal that has been sent from my Father. Today I choose to embrace forgiveness. I choose to let go of the past, the hurt and the disappointment. Make me clean, Lord. Make me new. Let it snow!

Algebra and Tylenol

For one year of my life I sat dazed in fourth period while my high school algebra teacher tried to convince me that quadratic formulas actually matter in the real world. Well, I hate to break it to you, Mr. Dub, but I haven’t gazed at a coefficient in several years, and I’m doing just fine. Math was never my preferred subject in school. In fact, at times it was my arch nemesis. Honestly, I didn’t care if x equaled y, and come to think of it, the unanswered question still doesn’t bother me. I remember spending hours trying to work up the courage to open my textbook and begin tackling the problems. After a valiant effort and two Tylenol had failed to help me, I would wail and moan and call my uber-genius friend, Jordan. Somehow he always seemed to know what x equaled. Although I have never reconciled my differences with algebra, Mr. Dub was one of my favorite teachers. The thing that I admired most about him was that he was enthusiastic about the classes he taught. Creative, witty, and patient, he approached the subject from every possible angle in an effort to connect with each of his students. I want to be like Mr. Dub. Not a math teacher, of course. But I want to be passionate about whatever I do.

The question then becomes, what do I do? As I stumble around for answers about my future career, I am inspired by the words of Howard Thurman who said, “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” I take comfort in the fact that God has given me specific gifts for a purpose, even if I’m still learning how to use them fully. While I continue to put the pieces of my life puzzle together, I feel nervous and excited in the same moment. But just as Mr. Dub found his calling, I trust God will reveal mine to me. After all, the world is craving a little God-inspired passion, and I might as well be the one to catch it.

Big Kid

I am convinced that family reunions are a mild form of torture. There is nothing more mind-numbing than sitting under a backyard tent in the middle of July sipping watered-down lemonade and eating burnt hamburgers with people who share your blood line but know very little about your real life. Family reunions are filled with unbearable small talk about the odd weather we’ve been having, the unpleasant details of Grandma’s knee surgery, the news on which cousin just moved out of the house for a third time, and how the Detroit Tigers just can’t seem to catch a break. And there is always that one aunt. You often find yourself questioning if she is even a member of the family or just stumbled into the yard when she saw the sagging balloons dangling from the mailbox. She wanders around the party, giving everyone a smelly bear hug, exclaiming, “Well, my land! Look how big you’ve gotten!” Although I’m never quite sure if she is referring to the few extra pounds I’ve gained in college or if she is alluding to my more mature hairstyle, I can’t deny the fact that time is rapidly passing. Every year I feel more like a “big kid”.

My freshman year of college was one of adjustment. I was on my own for the first time, making new friends and drinking plenty of coffee. Generally, the year was carefree and most of the time I felt like a kid at summer camp. My second year has been remarkably different yet distinctively special. So far, this semester has been one of growth and pain and worry and joy. It has been filled to the brim with both tears and laughter. As I dive deeper into my courses I am getting a clearer picture of who God has made me to be. I am discovering my passions. I am realizing my weaknesses. I am thinking about the future. And the reality is, the future is not so distant anymore. Sometimes its nearness keeps me awake at night, left alone with my anxious thoughts and the clunking air conditioner. Other times it makes me enthusiastic and expectant, ready to see where God will take me.

Upon entering college, I was set on my field of study and convinced that I knew what I wanted to do after graduation. Looking back, the word naïve comes to mind. I was determined not to be one of “those people” who changed their major, but God decided to humble me and show me that, in fact, I don’t have it all together. I thought I knew what I wanted, but I was wrong. And although it terrifies me to take a new direction, I am eager about the possibilities. Passion is stirring inside of me, and it’s waiting to be unleashed. Apparently, my eccentric aunt was right, I am getting bigger. So, no matter how much I want to deny it or how much it rattles my tidy plans, real life is looming on the horizon just waiting to be grasped.  

Good Old-fashioned Heartache

Chalk up another one. My list of failed relationships with the male species is expanding yet again. You know how most people “never make the same mistake twice”? Well, apparently I missed that memo and have become an expert double dipper. I feel like a miserable failure, I hate hurting other people. Although I continue to knock myself out in the dating arena, I have learned one incredibly effective maneuver. I have found the cure for good old-fashioned heartache.

This weekend I took a mini road trip with my three roommates, Noelle, Leah and Lindsey. We made the three and a half hour trek to Wheaton College to watch Lindsey’s brother start during his senior football season. We stood huddled together in our Mickey Mouse ponchos and flowered umbrellas as the typical mid-west weather graced us with its presence. Although I would not classify myself as a football fanatic, it was a great afternoon with the Carmichael family. After the game we trudged our way to a favorite Chicago pizza joint and let our soggy, rolled jeans escape from the rain. The rest of the weekend consisted of relaxing in the hot tub, late night television marathons in our pajamas, church together on Sunday morning and a visit to the local apple orchard. Our car ride was filled with heartfelt discussions about boys, family and how time seems to be speeding up now that we’re in college. In between our serious talks we wailed along with Noelle’s ipod selection of classic pop songs.

You see, there was nothing magical about the weekend, but there is something incredibly healing about spending time with a few of your closest friends. I truly believe that friendship is the cure to heartache. With each floundered relationship I am increasingly grateful for the friends that remain by my side through thick and thin. These girls have seen me in my prime moments and in my worst. They have seen the way my hair sticks up in the morning, they have listened to me whine about my frustrating professors and countless times they have patiently waited for me to apply my eyeliner, even though I am already running five minutes late. Through it all they still love me. They push me, hug me, and call me out on the carpet if needed.

So, you want relationship advice? Don’t ask me. You want friendship advice? I say the more the merrier. Surround yourself with people who know your heart, with people who see past your charade, because true friends bring joy to your life. True friends help you stitch up your heart.