An Open Letter to Oklahoma Christian University

For days, I’ve been searching for just the right words to illustrate how much Oklahoma Christian University has done for and meant to me over the past four years. Sometimes I think I finally have them in my head, but then they become jumbled again with emotion and the idea that I could never actually put it all into words. So here is my best attempt.

Four and a half years ago, Oklahoma Christian was just a dream to me. And for a while, it looked to be an unattainable dream. The money wasn’t there, it was super far away, and the scholarship didn’t come through. It seemed like everything that could keep me from coming, was. And then, in July, I got a call from my admissions counselor saying they were able to find me a few more small scholarships. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. A month later I was on a plane to Oklahoma.

Each year was questionable on whether I would be able to afford to come back. But with the Lord’s provision, working three jobs each semester, and working for Admissions through the summer, I somehow made it. And that’s one of the best things about OC. If you want it bad enough, they MAKE IT HAPPEN.

OC didn’t only give me an education, she gave me hope. When I would stay up crying in my dorm room thinking I just couldn’t afford the next semester, she would come through with a new scholarship or summer job. OC gave me a new family. People I could count on and look to for guidance. OC gave me some of the best friends I could ever ask for and taught me what life-long friendships really look like. OC taught me dedication and hard-work. OC showed me how to truly love others and be a better person. OC gave me the love of my life. OC challenged my faith and encouraged my walk with God. OC gave me memories -some wonderful, some not so great- but ones that I will remember forever.  OC made my dreams come true.

When I got here four years ago I was a wide-eyed, self-conscious child simply looking to get away and chase something. After crossing that stage yesterday and the years I’ve been here at OC, I am a confident woman of God blessed and changed immensely by a place I now call home.

I won’t lie. It was extremely stressful, difficult, and disheartening at times. But with the Lord by my side, family and friends who never stopped encouraging me, and a fire in my heart, I made it. OC has been worth every smile, every tear, every late night, every hour of class and tests, every Spring Sing loss, every job, every dollar, every bad day and every good day.

OC is worth it. OC is home.

An Open Letter to a Memory

Last night I just couldn’t fall asleep. My mind was all over the place, I was frustrated and nothing seemed to help.

Then, without warning, a memory came rushing back and seemed to swell every section of my brain. I could see it. I could feel it. I could hear it.

Our house and the model home were the only two houses on the circle block when the development started. The neighborhood was up on a hill that was perfect for sledding (when it actually snowed). The model home was to the left of our house and sat on the farthest part of the hill backing up to the very drop-off edge. It was a huge house with a perfectly green front yard, stone front and large glass windows. The coolest part about the model house though, was the back porch. It hung out over the backyard and the edge of the hill, looking over the lower part of the neighborhood. From that point you could see miles of fir trees, mountains and the faint city lights of Portland.

I was sixteen and trespassing.  But with a blanket, hot tea, a good friend and an even better view, it was my favorite spot. At least twice a week the two of us would creep through the dark side-yard, slightly hike upward, and then climb over onto the porch. We would just sit there for hours with our backs leaned against the back sliding doors. Sometimes we would talk. Sometimes we wouldn’t. Instead we would just stare at the stars, shivering slightly from the cold, but not wanting to leave.

Absolutely nothing beats a skyline of trees and mountain tops illuminated only by the brightest of stars in the darkest night. That view is home to me. I have a feeling it always will be. In that spot, even with uncomfortable seating options, no protection from bugs or the cold, was where I found peace. I was able to breathe, contemplate, pray, feel, dream, speak or be silent.

Everything became simple there.

More than anything, I believe that’s what I was needing last night. Peace and simplicity. A vision of home. And so finally, I fell asleep; to a memory of a time and a place I hadn’t thought of in years. But that was still, after all this time, able to give me exactly what I needed.

Never Alone – An Open Letter to Whoever Needs the Words

Sometimes there are just no words. Sometimes there are only tears, heartache, and many unanswered questions.

The last few days have been a whirlwind and I know the coming ones will only follow suit.

You wake up and expect the day to go one way and it goes the total opposite. You have your regular schedule and your normal way of life and then all of a sudden there’s chaos. You have work, and finals, and graduation and tragedy that turns your whole world upside down. Change; anything out of your normal routine, something unexpected, or a big life step can be terrifying.

Over the last few years I have faced a lot of tough changes and tragic losses that I wish on absolutely no one. Through all these times there has been a song that has comforted and encouraged me to press on. When my Papa passed away, I sang it at his funeral. When four of my friends passed away during the summer of my sophomore year, I had it on replay on my iPod for weeks. When I graduated high school I sang it again at several events and ceremonies. When I moved to Oklahoma I listened to it on the plane and as I unpacked my dorm room. And now, in the midst of college graduation and the sudden loss of a wonderful peer, I can’t help but fall back to listening to it.

Never Alone by Lady Antebellum reminds us that unfortunately, life is not always going to be easy. There are going to be days that are cold and hard. There are going to be days full of fear and that just plain make you wanna give up. But here is the awesomely amazing promise we have…WE ARE NEVER ALONE.

When trouble finds us and we feel empty, we’re not alone.

As the years pass friends and family become more important and make sure, we’re never alone.

Wherever we go, wherever we leave, wherever we fly; we’re not alone.

It’s not always goodbye…It’s see you later. It’s you’ll be in my heart.

You are Never Alone ~

An Open Letter to my Favorite Barista

Several days a week (and sometimes multiple times in a day) I cross campus for my needed amount of caffeine and loyalty stars. However, over the last few months my regular visits have become more than just filling my intense coffee addiction. They have become a time where I can count on a good laugh and a perfectly crafted mocha soy iced coffee, iced caramel chai, or whatever other crazy recipe I come up with that day.

Thank you for always being willing to create some new crazy concoction I’ve decided sounds delicious (even if that means I really want you to make a snow cone).

Thank you for red cups and cozy Christmas music in the winter.

Thank you for all the free scones, breads, and other full of carb deliciousness.

Thank you for supporting my addiction with all the free drinks. Without you, my Starbucks budget would be gone within a week of my paycheck.

Thank you for knowing my name and my regular drink order (when I’m not being creative).

Thank you even more so, for knowing how to spell my name.

Thank you for not being afraid to laugh at me when I come in 5 minutes after waking up. Especially on these days, thank you for just handing me my coffee and saying “good luck”.

Thank you for asking about my day and how I am doing even when you have dozens of other customers to serve.

Simply put, thank you for becoming a friend to me. It’s people like you; the ones with smiles no matter the craziness and the ones who don’t mind engaging in real conversation with strangers, that make the world a better place.

No other Starbucks will ever be the same.

Sincerely yours,

Charina

Making My Words Matter

Over the last few weeks I’ve been reading the book Speak Love by Annie F. Downs. In this book Annie focuses on the power of words and how we can make our own words matter. Whether that’s in speaking to others, ourselves, or to God. One of the things I have loved about this book is how real Annie is about the power of words and how she includes ways to use our words to create life.

I feel like God put this book in my hands at just the right time. Since diving into the chapters of the book God has put it on my heart to really start paying attention to my words. With graduation just around the corner, it’s also made me start thinking a lot about my relationships with other people and how I’ve hurt or helped, based on the words I’ve said these past four years. I’ve realized I have some apologies to make and some people to thank.

Words have always interested and terrified me at the same time. *Spoiler alert* I am really not good with words. I hate confrontation not because I don’t like fixing or dealing with issues, but because I am afraid that I won’t say the right thing, my words won’t come out the way I mean them in my head, or I just simply won’t be understood.

On the other hand, I have always loved writing. I have kept journals and wrote stories and lyrics for as long as I can remember. I find that when I write, somehow all the words come flowing out onto the page exactly how I hear them in my head. I also love writing letters. In fact, here’s a secret about me…back home I have a box full of letters that I have written, but never sent (Yes, I realize that sounds like a Taylor Swift song). I have always found it relieving to write a letter to someone with everything I’m feeling or would want to say, but don’t think I ever actually could to their face. Sometimes those letters are full of anger and accusations; other times they are words of joy, thankfulness, and random expressions of the way I wish things were different.

I’ve decided to challenge myself to write an open letter over the next few weeks to a variety of people. And I’m going to share these letters with you. I’m hoping that by writing more letters and sharing them I can build up the confidence to eventually say the same things (in love of course) to a face. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get a letter. Or even write one yourself.

The Black & White of Fifty Shades of Grey

With the book being a best-seller and the movie hitting screens every where this weekend, this is one hot topic. While I realize that most everyone probably has their opinions circulating the world-wide-web and over steaming cups of coffee, I’d like to give a few more roots to the conversation. As a disclaimer I have not read the book (nor will I do so) and I am not an acclaimed literary analyst. I am simply a woman of Christ setting out to encourage others to stand up for their values and live in the world, but not of it.

To begin with, the book Fifty Shades of Grey is listed as en erotic romance novel. According to the  Merriam-Webster dictionary, the definition of erotic is “relating to sex; causing sexual feelings.” Wikipedia lists erotic literature as that which “comprises fictional and factual stories and accounts of human sexual relationships which have the power to or are intended to arouse the reader sexually.” In essence, an erotic novel is a story strongly driven by sexual encounters that are fundamental to developing the characters and the overall plot. So without adding in all the sexually driven chapters, there really is no story left.

In my humble opinion these types of stories are left to serve the same purpose for women that watching pornography serves men. Let’s face it. Women are aroused by words and the strong, dapper, men who speak them, that Hollywood portrays to us as Prince Charming. Men are aroused by images; perfectly sculpted and flexible bodies with such little clothing that nothing is left to the imagination.

I wonder why then, we women beg for our sons, boyfriends, husbands, fathers, to avoid looking at or watching porn and yet feel no pluck of guilt to sit through two and a-half hours of immoral, naked images that fill our minds with lustful and impure desires? Is this not the same thing we are pleading with our men not to submit themselves to? Is this not the same thing we accuse of destroying our relationships because we can not demonstrate the same positions, acts, or physical appearances? Is this not the same thing we perceive as cheating? Is this not the same thing just wrapped in different paper and appealing to different senses?

The story also goes into the depths of Grey’s need for control and violent, submissive, dominant sexual acts. Ladies, this is NOT love. This is a glorification of abuse, sexual violence, and a need for power and control. Even the actors in the film were shaken by what they had to do.

Dakota Johnson was quoted saying  “It’s just sweaty and it’s not very comfortable. And on top of that, my hands and legs were tied, and I was blindfolded, and I was being hit with this bizarre tool. … It was emotionally taxing. At first I was like, ‘Oh my God, this is the worst thing ever,’ and then I was like, ‘All right, let’s get on with it.”

Stoppornculture.org gives a variety of statistics that show how often violent acts are used in pornographic videos today. “88.2% of top rated porn scenes contain aggressive acts.”  Watching these types of videos has shown increased aggressive behavioral tendencies. We get appalled by these numbers and by anyone who would hurt their partner and yet we become enthralled with a story that depicts these same things we scream out against?

So here is the black and white of Fifty Shades of Grey.  There is no story here. There is however, glorification of abuse. There is an attempt to draw women into a fantasy that will fill their minds with images they will never be able to dismiss. There is  an extreme temptation that in no way glorifies God or the way He intended sex to be.

As women of God let’s hold ourselves to a higher standard. Let us hold ourselves to the same standard we expect our men to live up to. Let’s be in the world, but not of it.

Pure & Undefiled Religion

This semester I chose to take a Bible course that dives into the book of Isaiah. I’ve read a few verses from Isaiah, but have never really focused too much on its overall message. I thought taking this class would be interesting and possibly an opportunity to grow. We’re only a few weeks into the semester and this class already has my mind firing off light-bulbs.

In the first few chapters of Isaiah, we quickly learn that the people of Judah were in pretty rough spiritual conditions. The people had all but abandoned their relationship with God and were full of rebellion and darkness. Isaiah chapter 1 opens the book very darkly by describing the type of wickedness that had over taken them. Comments such as “ah, sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity”, “though your sins are like scarlet they shall be white as snow”, “how the faithful city has become a whore she who was full of justice!” (4, 18, 21).

The main issue with the people of Judah was that they were unresponsive and forgotten what true worship and religion was. Instead, they were going through the motions of religion, tradition, and sacrifices, while ignoring the orphans, widows, and justice.

Isaiah 1:17 says “cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, and plead the widow’s cause”.

Justice does not necessarily mean that everyone is treated the same way. Instead, it means that everyone, including the needy, should be protected and taken care of. God was calling his people to care for those in need and to show them his justice and love.

I believe this same issue is facing contemporary Christianity today. We preach and speak all the time about how we need to be the hands and feet of Jesus going out and helping those who need us. And while we go on dozens of mission trips and go off to help people around the world, we often forget about those who are right next to us.

Instead we focus on just showing up to church on Sunday morning, singing the songs, and making it through the sermon without dozing off. Or we get so caught up in traditions, condemning people for going to a certain church, or turning up our noses at who claps and raises their hands and who doesn’t, that we lose sight of what pure religion in God’s eyes actually is.

When it comes to taking care of the poor, the needy children, and the widows within our own community we almost have an attitude of “oh someone else will do it” or “that’s not as exciting as going to Africa”. I believe this type of heart and attitude is exactly what Isaiah was warning the people about and what God sees as a perverted attempt at a relationship with him. God even addresses this issue again in the new testament as a another reminder to us.

James 1:27 says “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world”.

This verse has really spoken to me lately. It is almost an EXACT reflection of what God said to the people of Judah in Isaiah 1:17. If God reminds us of this warning again and again it must be something to pay attention to.

Little Chefs

What is it that happens to us between child and adulthood that embitters us and causes us to become so harsh and selfish?

One of my favorite shows currently on TV is MasterChef. It contains a bit of all my favorite things; fierce competition, food, Gordon Ramsay, and a bit of drama. MasterChef Junior is a spin-off of the original show containing kids ages 8-13 instead of adults. The spin-off is constructed much like the original show and has all the same perks, but with energetic and cute-as-a-button kids. After watching the last few seasons of MasterChef Junior however, I’ve noticed a big difference.

Although MasterChef is primarily a cooking competition, there is usually at least one dramatic fight between the home-chefs or harsh criticisms of each other on every episode. Screaming, cursing, finger-pointing, and harsh words are exchanged many times either in front of or out of earshot of the other chefs. On most occasions these fights end in a civil way and some have even resulted in strong friendships.

MasterChef Junior however, is a completely different story. From episode one it is easy to see that the group of kids genuinely cares about each other and they develop strong friendships quickly. They don’t want to see anyone go home, they cheer each other on constantly, and they are all truly upset when someone has a less than satisfactory critique. It is these differences that have got me wondering lately; What in the world happens to us?

What causes us to become so self-centered? What causes us to lose a heart for others and a desire to spread kindness? What is it that stirs up so much anger and hatred in us? What is it that makes us begin to delight in others failures and weaknesses?

I’m not sure I know the answers to these questions, however I am sure it’s not how we’re supposed to be living. Jesus even alluded to this idea in Matthew 18. Jesus states here that  “I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven. So anyone who becomes as humble as this little child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.”

Maybe there’s a bit more than complex recipes and fancy plating we can learn from those kids.

Chapters

I made it. I am finally here. Four years ago all of this seemed so far off and yet now, here I am, clearly seeing the horizon.

Many people say that college is the time of our lives. The time to grow and discover who we are. The time to make the friends we will have forever. The time where you’re on the brink of the real world and yet still safely tucked into the confines of relying on mom and dad for grocery money and your car payment. Until recently, this real world with major bills to pay, a place to live in for longer than eight months at a time, and a job that pays more than minimum wage seemed light-years away. Now it’s only four months down the road.

Knowing that this is quite possibly the last few months I will ever spend living in a dorm, sitting through classes, and carrying a backpack with books I’ll never read is both bittersweet and exhilarating. On the one hand, I am eager and excited for a new chapter in life and to begin doing what I’ve been working so hard towards. I can’t wait to be able to get up every day and put into practice what I have learned and spend my time with children instead of in a classroom. On the other hand, this is a part of life I will never get back and that’s absolutely terrifying.

For me it has been a privilege to attend college and gain an education in something I love. Not only that, but I have made some of the best friendships, most amazing memories, and truly gained freedom in who I am. The days of sleeping in till 10, going to Hobby Lobby in the middle of the afternoon, and staying up into all hours of the night to binge on Netflix with my friends are coming to an end. And it’s in these random and free moments of the day I have made memories that will stay with me forever and formed the friendships I know will truly last.

College has been more than just an educational and thought-provoking experience. It has been the place where I have grown and changed, learned not to take time and my family for granted, found real love, discovered what true friendship really is, and gained a new outlook on my relationship with God. Had I not embarked on this journey four years ago I am not sure I would have learned all these same lessons.

So do I live in fear and sadness over the next few months over what’s about to be lost? Certainly not. I will face these days head on knowing that each one has the potential to show me something new. I will cherish them because the reality that I will never get them back is all to real. And I will be excited and ready for the next chapter in this story I call ‘my life’.

21 things I learned from being 21

Twenty-one has been an crazy, amazing, terrifying, educational, and fulfilling year. I’ve laughed and I’ve cried. I’ve gained friends and I’ve lost friends. I’ve changed and I’ve remained the same.  I’ve grown up and yet parts of me remain like a child. I’ve made a plethora of mistakes and I’ve learned more about myself and life than I ever thought possible. So in no particular order here are some of the things I have learned over the past year.

Lesson One: People change. Plain and simple. Just because you knew someone inside and out two years ago does not mean you know who they are now. Give these people the benefit of the doubt. They may be ingrained in your head as one type of person because that’s how you left them. But if you think about how much you yourself have changed and grown, let your heart allow them to as well.

Lesson Two: Learn to say you’re sorry. And really mean it. I am the worst when it comes to apologizing. Either it’s because I think people already know that I am sorry or the words are just to hard for me to say. No matter the reason these words are something we must learn to say and say them often. Sometimes others need to hear these words just as badly as they need to hear the words ‘I love you’. Don’t let fear, pride, or ignorance hold you back from rescuing a relationship. Learn to say “I’m sorry”.

Lesson Three: Waste your time wisely. Time is valuable and yet each day we take it for granted. Do things with purpose. Make time for friends. Make time for family. Make time for yourself (I’m still trying to learn how to do this one). Not every day needs to be the most life altering or legendary day ever, but it should have purpose. The older you get the faster time goes so take it all in and capture every minute.

Lesson Four: Red cups really do bring joy. Be sure to thank your local Starbucks barista this Holiday season.

Lesson Five: It’s okay to not have it all figured out. It’s okay to still be unsure of what you believe. The twenty’s are all about discovering who you are, making mistakes, falling on your face and having the strength to pick yourself back up. Allow yourself to make the wrong decision and then learn from it. Study. Investigate. Establish who you are and what you believe, but don’t feel like you have to do that all at once.

Lesson Six: Sports and athletic recreational activities are NOT for everyone. And that’s okay.

Lesson Seven. Forgiving and forgetting is hard. Let’s state the obvious here. We are not God. Unfortunately we don’t have the ability to just erase the hurt someone caused us. We don’t have the capacity to ignore the words or actions of someone else that cuts us. But we do have the capability to forgive. So go on a walk, talk to the skies, free your heart, and forgive.

Lesson Eight: It’s perfectly fine to not be good at something. Like bowling for instance.

Lesson Nine: Don’t take your family for granted. They are the only ones who have been by your side since day one. They are the only ones who have put up with your temper tantrums, teenage mood swings and sad choices in boyfriends. They are the only ones who have gone to every rainy game and every show or concert. They are the only ones who understand and enjoy your holiday traditions. Don’t let time or distance separate you from the people who will always love you AND like you. The Avett Brothers said it best. There is nothing worth sharing like the love that lets you share your name.

Lesson Ten: It’s not bad to be in love. Just because you’re young doesn’t mean your naive to love someone and God forbid want to get married. It’s okay to be single. It’s okay to be dating. And guess what. It’s also okay to be married.

Lesson Eleven: The letters on your sweatshirt don’t matter in the real world. They do not define you. And they mean squat on a resume.

Lesson Twelve: Some days just suck. Netflix binges and hot tea are great remedies for these kind of days.

Lesson Thirteen: Take chances and opportunities that open up to you. There is always a reason for the doors that open and the doors that close. Even if it doesn’t make sense, take the risk and say yes. Some of the best things that have happened for me this year were things I originally never thought I wanted. Sometimes the big guy upstairs really does know better than us. Trust him and walk through that door ready for anything.

Lesson Fourteen: Stop complaining. It’s draining and annoying and nobody wants to hear it.

Lesson Fifteen: It’s time to forgive that person who “ruined” your life when you were fifteen. Sometimes we let things that happen to us or something someone says when we’re young, shape the way we view certain people or things.  But there has to come a time when you just let it go. Carrying bitterness in your heart for six, seven, or even eight years does nothing for your health. And they certainly (probably) don’t know, remember, or even care. So why should you?

Lesson Sixteen: People aren’t always going to be right about other people. Don’t let a reputation or what other people have to say about someone determine your opinion of a person. Give everyone a fair shot. Who knows. You may just fall in love and prove everyone all wrong.

Lesson Seventeen: Some people might not like you. And that’s 100% okay. Cause you’re not going to like everyone out there either.

Lesson Eighteen: It’s okay to grow up. It’s okay to not have the same best friend you did when you were twelve. That doesn’t mean that friendship wasn’t real or that you didn’t mean any of the promises you made. Like I said in lesson one; people grow up and people change. Our personalities change, our plans alter, our goals in life don’t match the eleven year old version of ourselves. Sometimes we drift apart and that can suck, but the joy and the memories will always be there.

Lesson Nineteen: Snapchat your sisters. This can lead to really fun nights when you’re alone in your apartment and will always make them feel better. Or that you care. Because you do. More than they will ever realize.

Lesson Twenty: Don’t be afraid to just say what’s on your mind. Filters are good, but it’s also important to be able to speak your mind. When someone asks you what you want, tell them. When someone wants to know what’s wrong, just tell them. Keeping in your emotions and words is never good. It almost always leads to a volcanic explosion of tears and broken sentences and total confusion. So just SAY IT. (For the record I still suck at this and am working on it. I promise!)

Lesson Twenty-One: It’s going to be okay. Life goes on. Life gets better. To live is an awfully big adventure.