Thursday, December 25, 2014

born that man.


To me, Christmas has always been a paramount holiday. 

Growing up, I eagerly awaited the holiday season, and when it arrived, I gladly immersed myself in the Christmas spirit. I have countless traditions that I excitingly indulged in each year. One of my personal favorites has always been watching I’ll Be Home For Christmas by myself on VHS. Another personal favorite is watching Christmas Vacation with my family. I think that we all have a unique liking for this movie because the chaos of the Griswold family so closely resembles the chaos within our own family during the month of December. Clark’s jelly of the month club rant will simply never get old to the Collins clan. Also, I have always rationalized my excessive drinking of eggnog (don’t worry…non-alcoholic) and eating of cookies by just shrugging my shoulders while proclaiming, “It’s alright, it’s Christmas. I’m supposed to eat this stuff.” While many of these traditions still occur, it becomes more and more apparent every year that as I age it’s harder to hold onto the ‘magic’ that I experienced as a child. 


I vividly remember the first time my family’s Christmas traditions were altered. I was around the age of 12 or 13, and when my older brothers left in the afternoon to see their friends or their girl friends, I remember thinking, “but this is family time. you can’t leave during family time”. This harsh feeling of change came abruptly and in a sly manner, yet it was just the first sign of many changes to come. Soon after that, my brothers both went off to college and our home felt confined, quiet, and empty during the Christmas season. Also, I became fully aware that the last thing they wanted to do on their break after a difficult semester was hang out with their teenage sister and the rest of their ‘lame family’. I’ve always been a sentimental person, if you couldn’t tell, so this realization really shook me up. How could they NOT want to take part in all of our old-time traditions? Well, from this first occurrence, the air of excitement continued to let out more and more each year. 

All of this change brought us here—to Christmas 2014. Let me quickly catch you up to speed: Andrew has been in the real world for almost two years now, Daniel graduated from college a year ago and just got married five days ago (making Michelle my sister, eeeeek), Christina just graduated from Georgia Tech and lives downtown, I am a sophomore in college frighteningly contemplating nearing the cliff that leads to the valley of adulthood, David is a senior in high school with a devil-may-care attitude about the remainder of his high school education, and Brooke and Brandon are keepin’ it real as sophomores in high school. Whether we like it or not, our lives are moving forward like a freight train with a fervor of haste. By no means are we “old”, but we certainly are not of age to wake up at 7 am on the 25th exclaiming, SANTA CAME! SANTA CAME! The reality is that we have grown up and most of the Collins kids are closer to parenthood and gift coordinating in December than to wish list making and waking up mom and dad to open stalkings at the crack of dawn. 

Santa, lavish toys, tantrums, and other childhood activities that come with the season have passed in our home, yet one thing remains and does not rely on a feeling of ‘spirit’ or age. That one thing is the story of our Savior coming down to earth—the beginning of the larger story of humility and redemption.

Essentially, my feelings and emotions about each Christmas—whether positive or negative—can never remove the truth of what the actual day stands for. Today, years ago, a child was born, and this child wasn’t just going to join the world, this child was going to save the world. You see, here, today, the 25th of December, 2014, we celebrate the fact that thousands of years ago, God fulfilled the prophecies of the old testament by beginning his plan for redemption in a manger. So today, we shouldn’t just open presents, be merry while spending time with family and friends, and say a quick thank you for a baby being born. We should be floored with thankfulness for the baby that was born because that same baby would go on to sacrifice his perfect life for his very imperfect people. 


Modern culture—myself included—has a way of completely separating Christmas and Easter while thoroughly commercializing them in the process, but today I thought that I’d fight to remember the bigger picture. Christmas is celebrated because it signifies the coming of a humble savior. Christ could not have died on a cross to cover a multitude of sins if he wasn’t born in an unassuming manger years before; the story of Christmas is integral to the story of salvation. 

That’s the bigger picture.

And it’s simply why Christmas was celebrated in the first place. It’s weighty; it’s valuable. It lends itself to a much larger story—the story of the Gospel. 

If the Lord has taught me one thing over the course of my 20 years of life, it is that zooming out to see the bigger picture lends perspective and understanding as to why God may be doing what he’s doing. After all, he is all-powerful, all-knowing, and omnipresent. He doesn’t mess up and doesn’t waste time because that is his character. Thus, choosing to zoom out allows believers to be reminded of those very characteristics of God. It reminds us that he has a plan and a far vaster perspective from us. He knew at the birth of Christ that his death was in store for the world, and he knows today that whatever you are going through right now has an ultimate purpose, too.

Today, seek to zoom out. His sovereign hand is holding you.

And this Christmas, remember that when you don’t feel the “spirit” or the “magic”, the truth of the nativity story still rings true. Value this, cling to it. Give him the praise and honor he deserves because he gave you the greatest gift of all; he gave you redemption through that tiny child in a manger. 

"Mild He lays His glory by,
Born that man no more may die.”

What a powerful statement that is embedded in such a classic carol. The ties of the Christmas story and the Easter story are everywhere. Look for them.
Take a gander through Isaiah 53. It lays out God’s plan for what would come from the Christmas story long before Christ even came down. What an incredible, amazing God we serve.

"Who has believed what he has heard from us?
    And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?
2 For he grew up before him like a young plant,
    and like a root out of dry ground;
he had no form or majesty that we should look at him,
    and no beauty that we should desire him.
3 He was despised and rejected by men;
    a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
    he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
4 Surely he has borne our griefs
    and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
    smitten by God, and afflicted.
5 But he was pierced for our transgressions;
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
    and with his wounds we are healed.
6 All we like sheep have gone astray;
    we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all.
7 He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
    yet he opened not his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,
    and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,
    so he opened not his mouth.
8 By oppression and judgment he was taken away;
    and as for his generation, who considered
that he was cut off out of the land of the living,
    stricken for the transgression of my people?
9 And they made his grave with the wicked
    and with a rich man in his death,
although he had done no violence,
    and there was no deceit in his mouth.
10 Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him;
    he has put him to grief;
when his soul makes an offering for guilt,
    he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days;
the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.
11 Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied;
by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant,
    make many to be accounted righteous,
    and he shall bear their iniquities.
12 Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many,
    and he shall divide the spoil with the strong,
because he poured out his soul to death
    and was numbered with the transgressors;
yet he bore the sin of many,
    and makes intercession for the transgressors.”
-Isaiah 53:1-12

He is an intentional God who fulfills the plans that he makes for his glory. Find peace in that this Christmas.

Merry Christmas, folks! 






Wednesday, October 29, 2014

picnic tables.

If you think back on the years you’ve lived, there are certain inanimate objects that have vividly soaked up your experiences. For me, objects have always had a way of coming to life in my memory, whether that be buildings or presents or courts or sweatshirts or pictures. 

These mere things hold far more sentimentality than one could imagine. It’s my bedroom floor at home where I grieved the loss of my friend's mom, cried tears over situations that cut me deeply, fought with Jesus through the struggles of depression, and saw the victory of the cross in my life so clearly. The carpet somehow still has the aroma of salty tears to me. It’s my bed at home and at school in which I have written all my life’s journals, studied for every lingering test or exam, did every tedious math problem, dreamed every bizarre dream, and spent the majority of sweet time with my Savior. It’s my bed sheets, where I write scripture so that even in my sleep truth surrounds me. It’s the walls of my room, which have seen the very deepest crevices of my hardships—they’ve absorbed my anxiety attacks, my tantrums, my middle school drama, my most joyous prayers of thanksgiving, and my most desperate cries for help to the only God who is capable of redeeming.  It’s Perimeter Church, where I was taught both scripture and academics, and also where I’ve learned to love a whole slew of 3rd-5th graders at camp the last two summers. It’s the pavilion at Perimeter, where I learned about intentionality in conversation by talking to 5th graders at lunchtime about what they’ve learned in Bible time that day/week at camp. It’s coffee that has lent an ear to the deep conversations I’ve been blessed to experience over a nice cup of joe. I could go on far past anyone’s ability to stay interested by exhausting this list of important objects in my life, but the most important thing is that objects hold meaning through memory. 


Today, the object at the forefront of my mind is a picnic table. When I gaze back into my past, I’ve had a vast amount of memorable experiences while sitting on the splintery, tarnished benches of a picnic table. Memories of me hunched over the worn tabletop completely engaged in conversation bubble up as I think about them.

In fact, the summer before my senior year of high school, one of my friends had just graduated, and the last time we hung out before she left for UGA, we went to Jones Bridge Park. That day we sat at a picnic table and talked about everything—it all came out. All of her anxieties about starting college and all of my pre-senior year woes were quite literally out on the table. We also contemplated the beauty of God’s work in our lives through vivid story telling. It was a memorable afternoon that bled into an afternoon quite similar a year down the road. One year later, that afternoon found me as a pre-college freshman who was exhausted from 8 weeks of camp and overwhelmed by the thought of starting anew in Auburn. My friend and I were back at the same table for a Tuesday night community with Camp All American. While all of our co-workers were cheerfully surrounding us playing spike ball, we discussed the depth of struggle that we had experienced that summer. I remember crying to Jenna Leigh that afternoon at the table and having a resonating feeling of hopelessness and frustration—like I had reached an impasse and God couldn’t resurrect beauty out of my circumstances. I was defeated and jaded by all that had happened that summer, and I felt as though I failed entirely in how I had handled it.


In retrospect, I am a year and a half down the road from that defeated night I spent at a picnic table in an unassuming park in Peachtree Corners, GA. I know now that God worked wonders in what he was doing with my identity, my family, and my anxiety that summer. He did what I thought would be more difficult than moving mountains, and the picnic table knows it all. It heard all of my words; it absorbed all of my tears. It stands as tangible evidence that God moves in big ways. 


My experience with picnic tables doesn’t end there. Actually, this past Sunday I had a picnic table moment. It started with take out from Fuji and a trip to the red barn in Auburn with my friends Lauren and Mary Claire. When we got there, we set up shop at the picnic table by the water. It was a beautiful night—slightly chilly, sweatshirt weather, but my company was warmer than the temperature. You see, I had been having a really rough day, or semester for that matter, and in a lot of respects they had been experiencing a lot of hardship too. But this particular Sunday I was feeling the struggle: it was in full force. I had been with other loving friends that day who were so wonderful to me, but I had decided that I needed to go take the night to myself in my room to enjoy some ever-important ‘Hannah Time’. I kid you not, as soon as I took off my shoes to hop into bed, Lauren texted me and Mary Claire to ask what we were doing that night, and all the sudden I felt the crazy desire go to be with them. So, I went. While we sat at the table, we shared stories and talked about everything from Lauren’s high school romances (which we spent most of our time on) to my love for nostalgic experiences like rolling down a hill (it makes me happy, okay?). I just remember glancing at Mary Claire and Lauren while Lauren was telling a story, and I thought to myself 'this is it. this is peace and joy. these two friends are more than a blessing. this moment is beautiful.' I wish I could explain it better to you, but the feeling I had was one of sheer contentment and thankfulness. The picnic table was experiencing my first joyful moment in a while.  These friends have a way of putting me at ease; I find tremendous joy in their presence, and God knew that some genuine, quality time with them was what I needed that night. It was definitely a night at a picnic table that I won’t forget.


Essentially, picnic tables—inanimate objects—are kept in my memory as places where I have seen God provide for me, and more often than not He did so through
relationships that were strengthened while spending time there. The objects become far less about what they actually are in my memory, and begin to serve as a sort of symbol of God's sovereign provision in my life.

In the midst of this crazy semester and season of life, I have come away with one important lesson: God protects and provides for his children. I find myself always trying to be one step ahead of God by ‘understanding’ how he is sanctifying me in the moment. I constantly tire myself, and I’ve come to realize that I need to just stop and rest in the truth of God’s provision for me. This week, he provided me with a picnic table moment. I don’t know what his provision will look like tomorrow, but I’m not guaranteed
tomorrow, so I don’t need to know. I am free to rest. I am free to believe that he will take care of me in whatever way necessary. I am free to trust that he will
bring picnic tables into life when he needs to. I serve a good God who loves me unconditionally and acts according to that love.



Further, in the book Counterfeit Gods by Tim Keller, he writes, "We learn that through all of life there runs a ground note of cosmic disappointment. You are never going to lead a wise life until you understand that.” 

See, this earth is going to disappoint. We are humans who were initially made for perfection, and this world has yet to be perfect since the fall. It won’t be perfect again until the return of Christ, either. We literally will never be satisfied to complete contentment by anything that this place has to offer, BUT God choses to bless his children with glimpses of what perfection will look like.

Accordingly, James 1:17 says, "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”.

Every gift is from above. Gifts are in no way a guarantee, but a selfless blessing from our heavenly Father. What an essential truth that I forget so easily. 

So today, in the midst of struggle, uncertainty, and the unknown, I will turn my eyes and tune my ears to look and listen for the picnic tables of my life—the glowing blessings that so often go unappreciated, and I will smile relentlessly because I know that my God is in control.

Saturday, July 5, 2014

goodbye, hello.

So, today is my 20th birthday. The door has swiftly closed to my teen years, and I’m a wee bit sentimental about it. Okay, for those of you who know me well, I’m a lot a bit sentimental about it. I’ve spent the past few days gazing back into my past—back to when I was excited to be turning “double digits”—and it has reminded me of how sweet it was to be a child and how daunting it is to move forward into independence and adulthood.

In order to put my stream of thoughts into perspective for you, I need to let you in on an event that added a certain weight to the end of my childhood years: the death of my sweet dog and best friend, Ezekiel Junior Collins. 

In his last months, Zeke had face cancer, and it spread pretty rapidly, but as always, he was joyful and humble through his pain. He never complained or drew attention to his condition, but smiled and loved well through his season of hurt. In fact, his joyful spirit was one of the hardest factors in the process of putting him down. Now, I’ll get to that later, but before I do I want to map out the color that Zeke vividly added to the Collins clan throughout his 14 years. This is the story of Zeke:
As kids, my brothers and I (maybe with the exception of Andrew…he’s never been into the whole animal thing) pleaded with our parents for a puppy. Through persistant annoyance and potentially striking the correct cord inside my dog-loving father, they finally blessed us with a beautiful and silly black lab on Christmas morning, 2000. I will never forget how that morning they had us open a few gifts before going downstairs, and upon opening them, we realized that dog treats and chew toys were not really of use to us. We pieced together the information at hand, and raced downstairs to find the first dog crate we’d ever seen in our home with the most precious, loving animal inside. Little did we know, this dog would become so much more than that to our family: he was a fifth sibling, a friend. Throughout the years I used many a nickname to affectionately describe my 100 lb. black ball of sunshine. Some of which include: fatso, biggie fry, zeker, big guy, fatty, and my personal favorite, sweet boy. The latter is my favorite due to the true nature of its claim. Zeke was there for me in the midst of loneliness and depression, in the throes of doubt and self-hatred, and in the times of celebration and excitement. He was there for all of them. I can’t tell you how familiar the posture of my arms hurled around him as my tears saturated his coat is to me. It’s a hug that I will surely miss. Thankfully, I’m aware that God placed him so intentionally in our family to shower us with joy when we were void of it. Oh, how successfully he fulfilled that purpose. Even toward the end, he brought us joy tenfold. 



 This past Wednesday, July 2nd, at 8:30 AM, sweet Zeke left us. As my Dad, Mom, and I sat in the waiting room (quite ironically ‘waiting’ for the death of a part of our family) at the vet saying bye to Zeke for the last time, I could only lay there with my arms hurled around him—gripping him firmly—with tears streaming down my face and onto his patchy coat of old age. In his last moments, I shared with him the posture that I am so thankful for. The posture that brought me so much encouragement and joy throughout my childhood. The posture from which I will remember Zeke the most. In the vulnerability of my childhood, he was there with joy. I’ll never forget that about him. My sweet, sweet boy. In that same posture, I felt his muscles turn to jello and saw his eyes glaze over while the vet whispered, “he’s gone”, and for the last time I wept on top of my childhood best friend.





Zeke is gone and so are my childhood years. To me, this is a ponderous realization. With all of this collapsing on me in one week, I had a lot to process. Essentially, I was contemplating the slamming of the door to my childhood that I addressed earlier, and one thing I realized is that there is so much pain that comes with the end of things. I believe firmly that the end of Zeke’s life (and my childhood along with it) are painful and difficult to grasp due to the fact that we—as humans—were never intended to experience the end of anything. God made us as eternal beings to whom death was foreign. It wasn’t until the disobedience in the garden that death even existed. Death is a punishment—the ultimate punishment of sin—thus it is not supposed to be swallowed smoothly. It’s natural for death and conclusion to trickle through our minds like an uncomfortable poison due to its nature as a foreign substance. 

Romans 6:23 validates this truth, but also reminds us of why moving forward past the end of things can be hopeful and joyful. It says:

"For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

I know and trust that in the midst of grief—no matter how big or how small—that I have eternity with my Savior to strive towards. That is enough to keep me moving forward; it’s more than enough to turn my eyes from the past toward the eternal future. Because of this truth, I have been able to be thankful for my childhood, which I can look back on with rosy thoughts. My childhood, my family, and my home have been a tremendous blessing in my life that I praise the Lord for in my retrospection. 

But this truth has also eased my fear of the future—my fear of change. I know that my ultimate promise of eternity is in the hands of a promise keeper. One day I will face the punishment of my sin in a physical sense—earthly death—but I will never face the punishment of eternal death because Jesus took on the wrath of God for me. I have a rosy future ahead of me as well, and there is so much joy in that. 

From here on out I will strive to seek Jesus and him alone for the comfort I need in the midst of great change, and I will do it with a similar posture that I approached Zeke with. I will hurl my arms around my sweet, sweet Savior and weep on him as he provides me with joy and truth. Christ is my ultimate Savior and my ability to find joy in him will never depart from me like Zeke did. Death has no grip on Jesus.

Throughout the rest of my years of life, I will desire what David expressed in Psalm 27:4.

"One thing I ask from the Lord,
    this only do I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
    all the days of my life,
to gaze on the beauty of the Lord
    and to seek him in his temple.”


This is my prayer: “to gaze on the beauty of the Lord and seek his temple”. This is the only hope and excitement that I have in moving on, in growing up.

Friday, May 2, 2014

sweet auburn.

Last summer, in efforts to squash my pessimistic nature, I started to make a list of blessings in my life. This list got weird at times, sometimes it breached the line of too sentimental, and at other points it was just really in the moment. However, my favorite part about the list is that every single thing I wrote down was an essential blessing to my year—whether big or small—and they all added together to compose my absolute adoration for Auburn University.

So the end of my freshman year has come to a close, and I’ve decided to share with you some of the blessings that made this year amazing (in chronological order from the list, of course).

Auburn, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways:
  1. Auburn and the new experience it will be
  2. AOII and the people I’ll meet through it 
  3. Classes that interest me/the reward of hard work and learning
  4. Getting supernatural social ability that is clearly not my own
  5. Chloe and the sweet friendship we already have and how awesome she is



  6. Auburn and the victories and challenges it's provided for me
  7. Starbuck coffee in the student center.. ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES
  8. Anna Hawkins and how real she is

  9. Procrastination and how genuinely it gets my creative juices flowing
  10. The reality that Auburn is home now and I love that
  11. The God given strength to overcome struggles and learn through them
  12. Meeting people who are a light for Christ in ways that they don't even realize
  13. Ministry opportunities that sneak up on you
  14. My wonderful, godly Big—Rachel 
  15. Coffee dates with friends
  16. Good, long drives all around Auburn
  17. World History cram sessions with Hawkie at Overall Company that pay off
  18. Kendall because I love her and she is hilarious and the greatest suite mate ever
  19. Mary because of her sweet demeanor and calm spirit and also the greatest suitemate ever
  20. Spontaneous drives/trips to McDonald's late at night with the suite mates
  21. The fact that God answers prayers/being able to ask God to rectify a situation any way necessary and knowing that he will 
  22. The Ukulele Guy because he made me feel like I had a soundtrack to my life
  23. Walking to class with a hymn stuck in your head ("On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand”)
  24. Jesus talks/studying the Word with my suitemates
  25. Learning that I am beautiful and dearly loved even when I don't believe it
  26. Halloween…need I say more

  27. Being able to spend eternity with my dearest friends
  28. Phone calls with my sweet mom who is beautifully different than me and adds unique perspective to my life
  29. Amazing coffee dates with my big that just highlight the evangelistic successes of God all around us
  30. Being able to say WAR EAGLE as a true member of the Auburn Family
  31. Being there when this happened: "Touchdown Auburn, Touchdown Auburn, A miracle in Jordan-Hare, A miracle in Jordan-Hare" *screaming*
  32. Shenanigans that end up having me sneak into the Iron Bowl—aka the best sporting event of all time (thanks, MC and Chloe, for this one)
  33. How rivalries are just the best and that one team can't exist without the other
  34. Having one more 0:01. Iron bowl 2013. I’ve got 99 problems but Bama ain’t 0:01.
  35. Storming the field with all my friends after the game and screaming at the top of our lungs RAMMER JAMMER YELLOW HAMMER GO TO HELL ALABAMA (there’s a youtube video if you wanna refresh your memory)
  36. Punt, Bama, Punt proceeding Kick, Bama, Kick and history being tied together
  37. Rolling what's left of Toomers with style…and it looking like fresh snow
  38. The fact that God gives us things on the earth to enjoy that are only a GLIMPSE of heaven (can't believe that game was only a glimpse of heaven)



  39. New friends to spend life's craziest and most exciting moments with
  40. Watching friends go through tough situations but knowing that God is constantly in control and using that control to protect them
  41. Because we did a Toomers double take and rolled it twice the night of the SEC Championship (thanks Michigan St.)
  42. Here’s to our first finals week and my finals playlist and caffeine pills and Kendall coming in with a blanket/turban on her head too often and also when I had to force feed her chocolate milk and candy cause finals got the best of her
  43. Having a bright horizon in my future…second semester: here I come
  44. Sitting on Kendall and Mary’s floor watching ice skating and Harry Potter and Xmen
  45. Bats making me peace out from the hill and move to the village (which was really sad and the longest week of my life but led to cool things)
  46. Gymnastics meets that end in beach trips cause why not/random trips to the beach in January that ended up being half a mile down the road from your future SB house


  47. Mary Claire because she’s the weirdest person I know, and that’s why I love her (I’ll shampoo you any day)

  48. Walmart parking lot chats with MC, Lauren, and Kat
  49. Walmart in general
  50. Also CVS
  51. SB14 because it was random and wonderful and I love everyone I went with to the moon and back



  52. KH’s pilgrim dress made it’s debut at 64 Cobia Street (NOT 68 Tarpon Street)
  53. The fact that Island Ink exists
  54. Because Margaritaville is searching for their lost shaker of salt and probably wondering who Oreo Pants is
  55. And sometimes friends watch friends through windows
  56. MC and I’s dissolved marriage bed
  57. Because AOII is soooo chill
  58. Pancakes
  59. Because sometimes in life there are granny panties on your chandelier 
  60. And dance parties go on until 5 AM
  61. because Brendan is an AOGuy and cleaned our house for us on spring break
  62. And he’s dating KH who is amazing and brings a smile to my face


  63. AGK and cookie dough forever
  64. First Pres and how it taught me this year
  65. Sunday lunches after church with all of my First Pres girls 
  66. And because AOII hit it out of the park and got second in greek sing (plus Christine was in a panda suit, I mean, c’mon)


  67. All of my awesome friends (triple threat, the A team, booth friends + kyle, etc.) and how I can’t imagine this year without them
  68. Natasha, oscar, john gaines, and so many more
  69. Late night waho with the triple threat, and spending my last night there cause Laur won the formal game/the mug will forever live on 
  70. Movie nights 
  71. The concourse because why not
  72. Drives down Auburn Lakes and past Farmville in 4-wheel
  73. Hostage and Kiesel Park
  74. Getting fancy for formal 



  75. Blasting music, always blasting music
  76. Village dining and the student center and how they built most of my friendships
  77. Oh, and the snow days were kinda cool
  78. But the warm days were better
  79. The beautiful campus and outside 2 o’clock lunches
  80. Surviving spring semester 2k14
  81. Twitter’s comedic relief during the Haley evacuation
  82. And staying in and watching Father of the Bride with Elizabeth during the first threat
  83. FRONT ROW FOR AVETTTTTT OHHHH MY WAHHHH/eating Seth’s hair/holding Scott’s hand/Scott and Seth forever






  84. Last day lunches in our booth
  85. Cheeburger Cheeburger, Waho, foy, and sitting in toyoda for hours on my last night because it was too hard to leave


  86. My wonderful roommate, Elizabeth, and the countless nights we stayed up way too late talking about variations of the same thing every time. Oh, how I’m gonna miss that.
  87. Saying goodbye to Hall M 315/316 and Eagle 336, but knowing that I get to come back next year and move in with three wonderful people on the hall
  88. RBD, oh RBD
  89. Laughter, and a lot of it
  90. Every person that I met this year
  91. And finally, how thankful I am that in three short months I get to come right back to my favorite place and people on earth.

Obviously, this list is not one of those overarching ones that every person can perfectly relate to, but I hope that it stirs you to think of what would make your list. What’s above is my year, and I couldn’t have been blessed with a better one.

To bring my last blog of freshman year to sublime summation, I want to quote on of my favorite people, Lauren Drawe. On our last night together in Auburn, she said, “I never thought that I would love Auburn this much.” (of course we were driving past Samford…so stereotypical). But honestly, I couldn’t put it better.

Auburn, I’m smitten with you.

You’re home.