What Emory Did for Me

          With the news released today of discrepancies within Emory's reporting of data for college rankings, I felt like I needed to blog about the single most important academic institution that has ever been a part of my life: Emory University.Yes, Emory pushed me academically in ways that I never dreamed. By the end of four years, I perfected the 25 page paper, knew how to do any form of research, and could write an exegetical paper in my sleep. More importantly, I learned how to question myself. I began to ask questions instead of assuming. I became confident enough academically to put my best work forward. All of this is because of the wonderfully challenging professors that pushed me to become an academic scholar. However, that is not the best part about Emory and not the reason for this post.         

          Instead, I want to write about what Emory did for me. When I was in high school, I didn't know who I was-- I couldn't find my passion, I couldn't find what I did well, I couldn't find where I belonged. By going to Oxford College and then continuing to Emory's Atlanta campus, I found myself. I found mentors, professors, and students that truly cared about me. I immediately found activities and classes I was passionate about, and I will be forever thankful that Emory gave me the opportunity to explore myself, to figure out my interests, and to move forward on my own path while still being connected to one unified community. 

          I came into Emory not having many high school friends to keep in touch with. I left Emory with hundreds of friends that I know I will keep for a lifetime. I came into Emory unsure of what made me happy. I left Emory getting a Presidential Service Award and Distinguished Service Key from Alpha Phi Omega, Emory's service fraternity that helped me grow in more ways than I can count. I came into Emory an International Studies major because that's what was expected of me. I left Emory an English major heading to Theology school because professors helped me realize that's what I am called to do. But most importantly, I came into Emory not knowing how to lead with integrity, how to be myself, or how to be an example of ethical living. I left Emory knowing that I will never forget how to lead with integrity, how to be myself, or how to be an example of ethical living. 

          Regardless of what happens over the next few months or even years, my Emory University degree is my most prized possession. It's not because it will get me a great job or because it got me into graduate school. Instead, it's what my degree stands for. My degree from Emory stands for my new beginning-- my second chance at finding where I belong. I am a world citizen, a helping hand, an understanding heart, and an ethical leader because of Emory University. That is worth more than all the top rankings in the world.

Reflections on the Summer, Part 2: What I Learned About Church

          Today, as I began to reflect on the summer once again, I kept coming back to one night in particular. On our last off day in Wingate, NC, we spent the day by the pool relaxing. That night, a small group of us decided to eat in the cafeteria for dinner to save money. As we sat there eating, it began to pour. By the time we were ready to leave, water was rushing past us on either side. As some staffers ran back, Sara and I decided to walk through it. As we were walking, a calm draped over me. As the rain fell over us, so did a sense of worship. A few moments later, I began a prayer of Thanksgiving. How lucky we were to have the rain. How lucky we were to have one another. How lucky we were to even have a cafeteria to walk back from. Laughter and dancing soon took over as Sara and I enjoyed every step back to the dorm.

          Once we returned, we joined a few other staffers in a time of puddle jumping. As we jumped from one pile of water to another, I experienced something extraordinary. We were laughing, playing, jumping, and being rowdy. However, it seemed so much like worship. In fact, it felt more like worship than some Sunday mornings. With each stomp, I could feel the rain run across us, uniting us all. We were tied by the bonds of this water, by this time of enjoying God's creation together. 

          At Selah Vie, a reflection-filled retreat at the end of the summer, we were asked the question, "Where did you see Church/What did you learn about Church this summer?" As I sat there, I went over all of the beautiful moments we had this summer in worship and with churches. However, that night in Wingate kept rushing back to me. The more I sat there, the more I became frustrated. Suddenly, I realized why. 

          Why does the church so quickly miss the point of worship? When did we decide as Christians that worship only counted if it followed a specific model? Who decided that the kind of songs we sing and the need for a sermon at the end was more important than the sense of holiness that surrounds the moment?What I learned about Church this summer is how beautiful it is to be a part of a church that finds worship in everyday life. Although Sunday worship is crucial to any form of Life Together in a Christian community, so is time to play and get to know one another. What if getting to know one another, if playing together, also became conscious parts of our sense of worship? What if we took the time to define beautiful moments of our Life Together not my secular words, but instead by holy words? What if we defined every moment, every second of our lives, as worship? If we are constantly defining our time together as worship, something beautiful might happen. Everyday interactions will become moments that connect us to one another. Relationships will become deeper. Our love of people will become closer and closer to the love God has for each of us. By redefining worship, we are taking away the restricting box we tend to put church in, and instead letting that feeling of love and acceptance become our lives. How much more beautiful would life be if we all took away those boxes and just let love and acceptance flow? 

Reflections on the Summer, Part 1: A World of Understanding

          As my summer wraps up and I look forward to the adventure that is coming next, I have decided that there is no better way to spend my time than to prepare for the future while taking a moment each day to reflect on the past. This summer, I had the opportunity to serve Passport, Inc. as the Assistant Director of the Passport Kids East Team. As Assistant Director, I was in charge of several different areas of camp, but I mostly dealt with communications-- the AD serves as the catalyst of sorts between the adults at camp, the facilities we are using, the National Office, and the team as a whole. One part of my job each week was to do the money orders. With these orders, I got to see up close the dollars, quarters, and many pennies that campers brought with them to camp, only to give a portion of what they had to the people of Malawi. Chances are, these campers will never meet those they helped. Yet, that did not stop them from providing someone else with a better today, tomorrow, and future. 

          

          One week in particular stands out to me. The first session of camp, we served in Hartfield, Virginia at Camp Piankatank. In general, during this week of camp, we served with children of very different socioeconomic statuses than the children we served with the rest of the summer. There were several campers that were refugees, inner-city children, or from parts of the United States that were less fortunate economically. Being our first session and smallest session of camp, staffers were nervous, nothing was quite perfect yet, and some things just did not go as planned. However, in spite of our nerves and apprehensions, something beautiful happened that week. Everywhere you turned, you heard a camper talking about Watering Malawi. Campers that spent a good deal of their lives in refugee camps or moving from one country to another were talking about how they could help the children of Malawi get clean water, have better bathrooms, and be able to wash their hands. This spread throughout the camp. I watched camper after camper come into the store and make sure to buy items that benefited Watering Malawi. I saw them add up how much money they would have left to give to the offering if they bought one t-shirt instead of six other items. 

          That week, the mission offering was the most it was all summer per camper in attendance. It was not anything we did, nor was it anything other groups didn't do. After reflecting on it throughout the summer, I realized that it came from understanding. Refugee campers from Tanzania and Nepal referred to the people of Malawi as their brothers and sisters. By the end of the week, I saw more and more campers that have never been outside of the United States see the people of Malawi in the same way. They asked questions and wanted to know answers, not just facts or percentages. These campers knew what it was like to not have everything they needed. These campers got it in ways that others couldn't. 

          In that moment, I realized more than ever the importance of understanding. If we want others to become passionate about a cause, it will not come out of just stating the facts. It has to come out of a moment of walking in the other person's shoes. Extending grace, love, and hope arise from empathy, not sympathy. It is not enough to state the facts-- we have to show how it's personal.  It's our job to first understand ourselves, but we cannot stop there. We are called to serve as a catalyst for others to embrace the same understanding. We are called to be the bridge that connects those in need to those that can help. The most beautiful thing that the world has to offer us is the understanding that we are all united. Once that becomes our vision, we can create a world in which love abides.