The Penthouse

This is a shout out to the place I reside. The place I sleep every night. The place I cook my food. The place I stay up far too late many nights. The place I have bonded with my best friends. The place that became my home just over a year ago.

This is a shout out to The Penthouse.

Dear Penthouse,
I adore you. You were lovingly named by my older brother when we were trying to come up with a new wifi network name. He didn't think it would stick. I didn't think it would stick. Well, dear Penthouse, it stuck.

When we moved on that hot August day over a year ago, I was really glad you were on the top floor. Though I don't like climbing all the sitars to reach you, we don't have people clomping around above us, plus it feels safer. People don't just walk in by mistake (except that one time...).

While I love you most of the time, you do thinks I don't like. We moved in and it seems like all your major appliances, wiring, and piping are going out. Last year, your kitchen faucet, dishwasher, and AC went out. This year, your living room lights turned into strobe lights, your bathroom fan went out, the pressure relief valve on the water heater broke (I think that's what it's called. I'm probably wrong), and your front door knob all stopped working. Some of these problems have resulted in little bits of panic. Sometimes a lot of panic. Having water spraying everywhere in your utility closet causes a little bit of alarm. Also, the day your front door knob broke on the inside and wouldn't let us out of the apartment was a little unnerving. Being locked inside our home wasn't really on our agenda for the weekend.

Also, my darling Penthouse, your kitchen is too small. I love to cook. I love to bond with people over food. But your kitchen is painfully small. Only one person can fit in there at a time, 2 if you are both in a very good mood and don't mind being intimately close. You were clearly not made for 4 girls to all use at once.

That being said, I still love you.

You are my first apartment. The first place I have lived with people other than family. The first place that my roommates and I are the grownups. We're in charge of how clean or dirty you are. We all have jobs and school. We decide when to go to sleep and when to get up in the mornings.

We've taken better care of you this year than last year. We rearranged the living room, cleaned out the refrigerator and freezer, bought a new and nicer food pantry, and reorganized the cabinets. We're in the process of hanging things on your walls to make you a happy place to live.

Another reason I love you is because you have housed (literally and figuratively) the makings of deep friendships. Since the first weekend we moved in, I have stayed up much later than I should have many nights because of meaningful conversations. Conversations about life, boys, family, school, crazy things that happen at work, and our Father. The relationships that have been built in you, sweet Penthouse, are dear and close to my heart. The love of Casey, Molly, and Joy, the 3 best roommates in the world, was all born within your walls. Tears have been shed. Laughter has been boisterous and good for the soul.

Not only have relationships with roommates grown, but in the early days of my relationship with Jordan, before we were dating and were in the "talking" phase, we would sit in your living room for hours and hours and talk. We would share stories, ask questions, and learn all about each other and our families. It is in you, dear Penthouse, that Jordan asked me to be his girlfriend. You have quite literally housed some important life events.

There are other reasons I like you, and they aren't big or monumental. I have estimated that I have made 400 cups of tea in your itty bitty kitchen. I've eaten countless meals on the cuddle chair while wrapped in the fuzzy blanket. It's on the couch in your living room that I had the flu during spring break and watched almost every episode of Parenthood. I killed my first cockroach in one of your showers last week. Your quirks like the living room lights turning into strobe lights when the fan is running have been the centerpiece of roomie dance parties. You've held Bible studies. You've even held a pumpkin carving contest.

You are a place of joy. A place of adventure. A place of growth.


Dear Penthouse, I love you.

You Do You

I have this app on my iPod touch (because yes, I still have a dumb phone) called Timehop, and every morning I get a notification that they have made a list of everything I posted on social media that day for the past 5 or 6 years. It's a little scary. Sometimes I don't want to be reminded of things I said in middle school. It's also really cool, because I can see evidence of God working in my life that I have forgotten about.

As I woke up this morning, I saw that Timehop wanted to either encourage me or make me cringe. As I opened the app, I saw that a year ago today, I moved into my apartment and had tweeted "Staying up until 2am with my awesome roomie, Molly, talking about Jesus. Yup. It's going to be a good year." As I kept scrolling, I saw that I had posted on my blog 2 years ago about my gap year, and holy moly you guys, I was nervous. I remember that day like it was yesterday. Not only was I terrified, because for the first time I was moving out of my parents house, but also because I was doing something different.

You see, I was tired of being different. I grew up being homeschooled, and though I loved it, outside of the homeschool community, I felt like I was always defending myself and my family. I was different. I have way more food allergies than most people. Eating outside of my house was really difficult. Eating at friends houses was almost impossible at times. I was different. I have dyslexia and have to work harder and get outside help with school a lot. I was different. By this point in my life, I just wanted to fit in. I wanted to do what people typically do when they graduate. I wanted to be accepted into my dream school, move into my dorm, eat gross dining hall food, get involved in lots of on campus activities, and make tons of friends.

I'm sure God was smiling down at me, shaking his head a little bit saying "Sweetie, I've got something better for you. Stop trying to blend in. That's not how I created you. You're going to do a lot of different things the next couple of years. And that's where I want you."

If you read my blog or have known me for at least 2 years, you know, I don't do normal things. I moved from Clemson to Anderson to live with my grandmother, while trying to get involved with Clemson RUF (because living 30 min away instead of 5 makes sense haha). Then after Christmas, I moved home and started working in Seneca at the Foothills Pregnancy Care Center. Through working there, I really found out the type of things I want to do with my life. Also realized I'm not supposed to go to Clemson, I'm supposed to get my Associates degree from Tri-County. Not exactly something to write home about. I have the funds to go to a prestigious university. Yet, I'm not. I go to a community college. Honestly, you guys, that can be super embarrassing at times.

You see, during my gap year, God opened my eyes to the beauty of following him. Yes, I've been a Christian most of my life, but until I did something majorly different like my gap year, I didn't see the beauty and the goodness of following Him with huge life decisions.

Over the past 2 years, I've kind of developed this saying "You do you." I realize that can be a little "coexist"-y, but hear me out, because it's totally not. Got calls each of us to do different things. My road will look WAY different from your road. And your friend down the street, their road will look likes it's going backwards at times. We are each called to lead very different lives.

Who am I to say that what she did was wrong, just because it's not what God called me to?

What I am doing is not any more right or wrong than what he is doing. We are both just doing what God put in front of us.

It's so easy for us to get caught up in the norm of American life and think when people do something different, it's wrong, simply because we're not used to it. I keep being reminded of 1 Cor. 12, when they talk about the body of Christ.
We're not all supposed to be eyes. 
We need arms, hands, legs, feet, mouths, and ears, too!

And that's the beauty of each person following the road He has put before them. Together, we create the whole body.

It's WHOLE.