Five Words

Everything happens for a reason.

Five words you hear often, but how many of those times have you actually believed them?  I know for me, none of them until recently.  I grew up in a religious family.  Every Sunday we would go to church: one service and Sunday school.  I grew up happy and content with my church family, and never questioned the Scriptures or God’s word.  Every Sunday up until I went to college was spent worshipping God—well, at least in the mornings. 

Once I got to college I began to drift away from my faith, God, and the people I knew from church.  My friends I was close to there all did the same.  We didn’t have our parents to pressure us into getting up early in the mornings, or praying late at night.  I began to notice a change in my attitude, and so did my mother.  I was still the same person, but with a bit more sass.  This wasn’t a bad thing; I was just growing up and forming new opinions and perspectives on life.

Half a year passed and I had nothing to show for it.  I partied a ridiculous amount with new friends that weren’t great influences on me, rarely went to any of my classes, and did not get nearly as much sleep as I should have.  I began to constantly feel sick and drained, did not have a great relationship with my parents, and struggled with waking up in the mornings. 

I was a train wreck waiting to happen.  

Days passed and with every one my life began to get better.  It was now the second half of my freshman year and I had come to peace with the fact that the first half was obviously not great and that there was room for improvement.  However, even though I knew this I had a hard time convincing myself that I was capable of acting on that thought.  I didn’t feel smart because my grades had shown otherwise the semester before.  At the end of the Spring semester I had almost fully convinced myself that I was not a college person, and would rather be working.  I felt bad that my parents paid for me to go to school, and told them I would pay every penny back eventually.  July came around and I had yet to muster up the courage to completely inform the school of my decision.  So I waited. 

I began to form a relationship with friends from church again on the mission trip that I went on that summer.  I had gone with the same people in previous years, but had a completely different mind set now.  I knew the person I was, and the girl I had become and wasn’t sure if my old friends would accept her. 

            The trip had come with perfect timing.  Not only did I regain the friendships I had lost, but formed new ones as well with the people that lived at the house we were working on.  They had the strongest relationship with God I have ever seen, and were thankful for every minute they were alive.  When had I lost sight of this?  Even though they were thankful for everything they had in their lives, they were still envious of the opportunities I had.  I shared some of my story with them, and they shared their wisdom and knowledge they had attained over years of poverty and having little to work with.  I began to realize that what they were telling me was what I was missing in my life this entire time.  I was missing God. 

            The next semester I found better friends, and didn’t party nearly as often.  We supported each other and I was proud of myself again; the person I knew deep down inside I was capable of being all along.  I guess everything really does happen for a reason.  God will make sure of that.