When was the last time you did a cartwheel? - A letter to me

Sometimes the brevity of life slaps you in the face. Something happens and all of a sudden the little box you were living in is turned upside down, leaving you and all the other contents of your neatly-packed life tumbling through the darkness.

As you're falling, you think about your life. Always, always, always the things you were working towards so fervently take up residence at the bottom of the priority list, and the things you were neglecting, become all you can see.

You think about the people you've loved but neglected, the vacations you never had enough time for, the letters you never wrote, the wrongs you've never apologized for, and every single thing you would do to make that special someone feel all the love you hold in your heart.

You think about when life became a to-do list instead of a quest of discovery and the expression of art, love, and adventure.

When did you outgrow the best parts in your life? Have you forgotten the rush of accomplishment after doing a cartwheel? Do you remember eating raw cookie dough and not worrying about getting a disease? Do you miss falling asleep on the couch to a good movie just because you didn't want to get up and go to bed? How about the warmth you get when you hug your grandma? Or the pleasure of letting sand grind between your toes, and not having to worry about it making a mess in the car on the way home? When's the last time you danced to music without wondering what people would think of you? When did you stop putting on beautiful dresses, just to parade around the house? How could you stop going outside to lay on the trampoline and look up at the stars, no matter how cold it got?

When you start taking yourself a little too seriously, or life gets a little to hard, ask yourself this question:

When was the last time I did a cartwheel?

Redefining Failure-Suicide Attempts

Suicide attempts.

Success.

Failure.

Over the last few days, all I've been able to think about is my baby brother, life, death, God, heaven, hell, and suicide.

It's strange to me that when someone survives a suicide attempt, it's referred to as a failed attempt.

Failed.

As if the intentions of someone so ill that death seemed the only cure could determine the description of the act.

 Because "failure" the greatest success that could possibly follow a suicide attempt.

"Failure" is another chance at life.

"Failure" is a chance at treatment.

"Failure" is the beginning of a new life.

"Failure" is life-changing.

"Failure" let's us tell him how much we love him.

We prayed for "failure."

We begged God that he would "fail."

We consider "failure" a miracle.

I thank God every second for "failure."

For anyone to ever refer to a suicide attempt as a failed attempt is the height of ignorance. No success comes from a person falling to suicide, and no failure comes from surviving illness.

 Suicide is a symptom of a disease. A person must have suffered so much at the hands of mental illness to consider death a cure to life.

Society fails us when suicide is attached to the person and not to the disease. How ridiculous would it be for someone to say there was a failed attempt at cancer? No one would ever say there was a failed bacterial infection, or a failed pneumonia, or an attempted death of natural causes.

We live inside our minds.

We need to create a culture where mental health isn't stigmatized. I want to live in a world where a coworker or classmate would be just as comfortable telling me about seeing a therapist for depression as telling me about seeing a doctor for a flu.

But, for now, it's not. So here I am, thanking God for "failure."

Thoughts on adulthood...

The moment you become an adult is the moment you think back and realize, "My parents/aunts/uncles/grandparents were right."

Flowers

I don't know what to feel, but I'm trying not to stop and think on it for too long. When I do stop and think, it's all a blur of emotions. It's like I stepped into the period between night saying goodbye and dawn saying hello. There's so much confusion. Is the day coming, or is the night?

Someone told me once that people are like flowers, and God only plucks the perfect ones to bring to heaven, and at the time that resonated with me. Of course, people die too young, and that would make sense that they had passed some sort of test already and were so wonderful that they got to go to heaven, but now I know that's all wrong.

My grandma was a beautiful flower. She wasn't perfect; none of us are. She could stand as sturdy as an oak, as flexible as a bow string, as determined as the sun, as mysterious as the midnight sky, as kind as a hot shower after a long day of work, and as reliable as the ground beneath your feet. So when I think that people only get into heaven once they've bloomed, I can't quite agree, because my grandma lived to be 84 years old, and I know for sure that she had been in bloom for quite some time.

So when I stop to think about my grandma, I think about what an amazing person she was to have in my life. We definitely didn't always get along, but you can't get along with someone 100% of the time. I think of how sad it was that she had to suffer before she went to heaven to meet Jesus and to reunite with the rest of her family in heaven. I think that it was good she was able to go quickly enough when her time came and that her suffering didn't last years on end like it could have.

I smile to myself when I think of her first reunion with her family. Grandma was right a lot of the time, and if someone disagreed with her, she had to have an "I told you so" moment. So I imagine her standing next to Grandpa, walking up to her parents who were (understandably) concerned about her marrying a man 22 years older than her and saying, "Look at us now." I don't know why, but that thought just makes me smile and cry at the same time.

I wonder if I'll ever feel like she's watching over me before we get to reunite in heaven. Several of my friends have told stories of times when they've felt like their loved one was speaking to them from the other side. I hope that will happen to me because I already miss her like crazy.

And after those warming thoughts pass through my mind, I inevitably think of all the things that will be different now. I'm afraid of the first time I go back home to Western Kansas, and realize that I won't ever be going to "grandma's house" in the same way again. I won't be greeted with a hug and a smile when I walk through the door, and there won't be my grandma there offering to make me Schwann's chocolate chip cookies or chicken strips. She won't be sitting in her chair, snacking on a small candy bar, ready to talk with me about life, school, or even politics (which we stringently disagreed on about 90% of the time). She won't be there to tell me to go outside after we've been inside watching TV for too long, or encourage my siblings to go help Dad or Wyatt do some work around the ranch.

I won't be able to call her on the phone for a quick, thirty-minute chat, and end up saying goodbye after two hours.

I won't be able to be certain that there's a card coming in the mail for my birthday with some illegible handwriting and some money tucked in. I won't be pleasantly (or unpleasantly, depending on the occasion) surprised when one of her letters comes in the mail.

I won't have her there at my next graduation (if I decide to go back to school). She won't be there to see Ty's and my first child (if we are blessed with one). She won't be able to make the trip to come see our new home, which she had planned on before cancer got in the way.

And then I remind myself that God has his own plan, and that I'm grateful that her suffering came to an early end.

And then I think that it might be another sixty years before I get to see my grandma face to face, and I cry all over again.

And then, in the midst of all the tears, I have the thought that sends me over the edge: I forgot to ask her what her favorite kind of flower was.

An obviously objective oddball observation of typical sayings regarding high school, college.

Once I started high school, I was constantly reminded that high school is supposed to be the best time of your life. "You'll make great friends," they said. "You won't have the kind of responsibilities that you will later on," they said. "You will have fun," they said... Well, to put it succinctly, I'm still waiting on all of that. And frankly, if high school was supposed to be the best years of my life, that would have been incredibly sad, and I wouldn't have had much to look forward to.

Fastforward four years to high school graduation.

"Okay, actually, college will be the best time of your life," they said. "College is way better than high school," they said. "You'll make your best friend for life," they said. Well, three years, one marriage, five organizations, 124 credit hours, 13 countries, five part-time jobs, and one language later, I'm still questioning the validity of those statements.

College will be the best time of your life: Well, I've had good times, and I've had some really difficult times. I'd say some highlights were marrying Ty, getting straight A's, being honored as "Chancellor of the Year" in a national honors fraternity, and studying abroad. But, there have also been really difficult times. Obviously, it doesn't do well to dwell on those, and no one wants to hear about impending student debt, losing an advisor, sleepless nights, crying breakdowns in another advisor's office, yelling at the registrar, unreturned emails, and personal problems, so I'm just going to skip right on past that. ;) IF these are the best times of your life, what's the point? What's the point in working so hard if nothing will get better? 

College is way better than high school: Can't argue that. Not even a little. The only thing I miss a little is having enough free money to dye my hair every now and then. Other than that, I love it. The freedom that comes with knowing that you are the only person responsible for yourself is amazing. I know that what happens to me (and my husband) will be a direct result of my actions... That's great! So, take that, proverbial "they!" High school wasn't the best time of my life! (Catholic time: "Thanks be to God!")

You'll make your best friend for life: Well, I made that friend in high school, his name's Ty, but usually I call him "husband" or some sickeningly sweet pet name like "behbeh cakes," "honey bear," or occasionally some choice expletives, depending on the mood! Don't get me wrong. I made other best friends, but they're an ocean (or a Facebook message) away.

Upon examination of the ups and downs, college has been a pretty even mix. You should be impressed that I was able to objectively say that, because this is how I'm feeling about college right now:

This has been one of those weeks that's driven me to sincerely consider having a mental breakdown. I probably would if it weren't for the fact that I have absolutely no time for one! Let's hope that after this week, my cortisol levels will drop, I'll have a more positive outlook, have more time to dedicate to my mental health, and.... have a college degree! 

And after that... Well, I'll be looking forward to even more "best years of my life."

An Easter to Remember

Hey this is Ty, the other half of the Stelting clan on this blog (the not so pretty half). This previous week I was lucky enough to be Baptized and Confirmed into the Catholic Church. My experiences with the Catholic Church before this were full of “mysteries” and questioning the sanity of this institution. I decided that, to rationalize this, I needed to join a process that would allow me to understand this chanting and crazy body and blood thing they call communion. I joined RCIA and now I completely understand why we do the things we do and I have no clue why I didn’t do this sooner!

First off, I joined the RCIA process to become a catholic and get our marriage blessed. I had no real drive to Catholicism because it seemed like the same thing to me as compared to other churches. Once they started showing me the meaning behind the rituals, sacraments, and prayers, I began to understand that Catholicism is not just a religion. It’s a way of life. The meaningfulness, love, and hope that I have gained through Christ and his Church has manifested itself through the Catholic faith and ways of teaching. I used to think that Catholics were all these tests and memorizations just to get to stand up and get bread. However, it is not, we now get to understand the true meaning behind the Eucharist (communion) and the meaning behind the Creed. It changed my life like no other organization has.

Now that I have that all out in the open, I really wanted to talk about Holy Week. Holy Week is the last week of lent that is truly sacred and an emotional time for us. There are three ceremonies that I was able to go to but there is importance in every day. I will talk about each and every one that I went to and how it was able to help me feel closer to Jesus and what he went through and the meaning that it had for me.

Palm Sunday

On Palm Sunday, you walk into the Church and grab a single palm leaf and go sit down. I always wondered why until I was explained to that it was the same thing that was held up by the people of Jerusalem as Jesus entered. So to celebrate this we physically went outside the sanctuary, prayed to Jesus and held up our palms. Then we walked back to our seats within Jerusalem and reenacted the scenes of how we, the people, who just welcomed Jesus, turned on Him and crucified Him. This was powerful for me because it rooted in me that when we sin, we turn our back on Him. He then died to remind us that no matter what we do, He will always care for us and sacrifice for our love.

Good Friday

Then I went to no other mass because I am lazy and a college student in 21 hours. I wanted to go to Holy Thursday to see the washing of the feet and how they undress the altar. Instead I attended Good Friday mass. We went to Seven Dolors, which I think is a weird name because it is a Spanish/English mix meaning seven pains. It now makes sense because the mass Kelsie and I went to was done in Spanish and English.

Seven Dolors Church

The church is beautiful and the Spanish singer Jorge was absolutely breathtaking. We once again reenacted the moments that led up to the crucifixion and all the way to His death. We read scriptures and sang very emotional song. Women who sat three pews ahead of us were actually crying.

This is the night we venerate the cross which looks like this: 

One-by-one we walked up there and touched, bowed, and even kissed the cross to show the overall importance that Jesus’ sacrifice was. It was truly the pinnacle of the whole service. At our usual church that we go to, they actually dropped huge nails into a bucket. This is just to remind us how real this was and how the death of Christ, God’s only begotten son, was purely for us.

Easter Vigil

The importance of Easter vigil is a celebration of the entrants into the church. I was one of those people who had never been baptized so I joined the portion of the group that had to be bathed naked…okay we just had water poured over our head. Fully clothed (thank God for everyone else who would have had to see me). This was meaningful because I had been sinning for many years and the priest would have had to sit through a one hour confession. I will still try and confess any that lead up to it but this literally washed some weight off my shoulders haha.

The next part was the part that made me worry the most because for a little while, I thought we were going to have oil poured on our head…

Needs some face wash...

That is a zit factory waiting to happen…

Like this guy but only with good smelling oil. Thankfully they didn’t they just added a little to the top of our head and the front of the forehead. They call it chrism oil because it is blessed by our bishop.

But enough about me; this is the mass where we get our holy water for the year and light the candle that will remain lit for over the whole year. All the confirmed and baptized had their first communion and finally got to taste that wonderful sacrament.

Conclusion

It all really meant a lot to me; if it wasn’t for all the help from Kelsie, Steven, and the entire RCIA team, I would not have had a life changing experience. I always wanted to become a more thoughtful, kind, and loving person. I could have done it before but now, I have a road map and a guide that I feel like I can now understand more and interpret the word the way God wanted ME to do.

Here are some of the people that really helped me through just this night.

Kelsie and I

L-R: Father Don Zimmerman, me, and Steven Miller(my amazing sponsor)  in front of the Altar.

Deacons of the parish, L-R: Larry Erpelding, me, Wayne Talbot, and Buzz Harris


THANKS FOR READING!!! 

You might be a college student if...

Here's the low-down.
I get busy.
My house is a mess.
Sometimes I don't respond to emails immediately.
But, what I DON'T need right now is Microsoft Outlook's judgement!

Excuse me?


Okay Microsoft Outlook, I have a special message for you:


And lastly, from the ever-so-wise Mr. Squarepants,

The Danger of the Romance Novel

Have you ever read a really good book? The kind where you become a character in the story. Like you can hear, smell, see, and touch the surroundings described to you in the pages? What about a romance novel? Have you been swept off your feet by a brave and daring knight? Or have you been charmed by that awkward kid in braces who eventually grows into a handsome man with an equally dazzling personality? Have you been the girl no one noticed, finally matched with that perfect soul mate who gives you the ultimate combination of intrigue and comfort?

I have.

In fact, romance novels and romantic comedies have always been my book or movie of choice. It’s almost impossible to leave the theater feeling happy after watching a movie like Crazy Stupid Love or When Harry Met Sally, or even the Notebook. A romantic story is adventurous, brave, hope-inducing, and almost always has a happy ending… what’s so wrong with that? I hadn’t given it much thought until I heard this question. “What is porn for women?” Porn is a great divider in many marriages—and let’s face it—is predominantly geared towards men. Men are visual creatures, and because of this, easily fall into the trap of sexy women in a visual fantasy designed for male pleasure. But what do women get off on? Women are emotional beings. We desire deeper connections and relationships. We want to care and be cared for. So the answer to the previous questions is, “The romance novel.” This has been demonstrated by the astounding popularity of Fifty Shades of Grey. It’s not like EL James is some prodigal author. The only thing the author has done is play to our culture, and some of our misguided desires.

Our culture views marriage through distorted lenses. If you disagree with me, please feel free to reference the 40 to 50% divorce rate in the United States. Children are taught the wonders of marriage from early on. Every single popular princess story involves a beautiful girl getting married to a prince and living “happily ever after.” Children are taught that getting married to that one perfect man that will satisfy each of their longings. We’re told don’t get married young because your twenties are for being selfish. We’re taught that if it doesn’t work out with someone you can simply divorce them and look for the new solution (a man) to your problem. What we should be telling children is that there is no such thing as a “soul mate.”

Each and every one of us is flawed. There is no way that two flawed people can come together to form a perfect union. It is impossible. God is the only one who can join a couple in a perfect union. This means that He is the most important aspect of marriage. When we recognize we can’t build a “perfect” marriage on our own, it’s much easier to love our spouses for the people they are, instead of the people we wish they could be, or the perfect men they could be as depicted by a novel.

When we read a novel, part of it takes hold in our hearts. We see a man perform a grand gesture, and we think, “Why can’t my husband do that?” Or we hear of a friend’s husband who always brings home flowers, and we think, “Hey, some flowers would be nice.” This hurts us and our marriages. It hurts our future spouses, because they have a fictional character to live up to, and they don’t even know it.

So put those romance novels down. Because even though having someone to do dishes with doesn’t sound good on paper, it makes for a hell of a good life.

Rewarding Children for Participation

"It takes a village to raise a child," that's how the saying goes. And since it takes a village, the village all thinks they can have a say about how to raise children. I've read countless blogs, articles, social media posts all dedicated to raising the perfect child who will never talk back and will not grow up to be a little you-know-what. "Don't spoil them!" they say. "Don't give them too much sugar!" they say. "Don't let them eat GMOs!" they say... and God forbid, "Don't give them medals just for participating!"

Just for a minute, I want to take a second to think back a few years ago to my experience in high school and junior high sports. As a student athlete, I was never bad at sports, but I was never great either. Just like the majority of other students, I went to practice for an hour or more at least five days a week, bought the team tshirt, had my parents make snacks to bring to tournaments, went to all the games whether I was allowed to play or not. Sports was at least a part time job in junior high and seemed like a full-time job in high school. Many times, it was a thankless, overrated, tiring, draining, and depressing job. Other times, I had some of the most fun times I've ever had. So, what was the purpose of all of this?

Athletics, and other extracurricular activities are supposed to be fun. They foster teamwork, team spirit, humility (supposedly), work ethic, and most importantly: life-long health and fitness. So if athletics are so fun and healthy, why are so many children overweight? Why are many kids opting out of participating in sports, or choosing to specialize in only one sport?

In junior high, I ran the 2-mile. Since I was the only one dumb enough to participate at such a young age, I usually got a top-three place at the meet, and was rewarded for my placing... not because I was wonderful at it, but because I was brave enough to train, and eventually race in front of onlookers. In high school, I ran the two mile, and came in dead last every time. What did I get? A pity clap from a few parents at the end of a greuling 17 minutes and 9 seconds, a pat on my back from a coach who had other athletes to attend to, and sore muscles. Guess how long I ran the 2-mile in high school. I raced and performed to the best of my abilities, but myself and the other average, hardworking students saw others excel almost effortlessly. They had natural talent, and were probably working just as hard as we were, but they got all of the glory, and all of the rewards.

Someday, God willing, I will have children of my own, and for that I am scared to death. I am afraid that one day, my child might decide he likes tennis, but be discouraged because he isn't a star athelete. I'm afraid my girl will love to cheerlead, but won't make the cut because she's a little heavy, or doesn't have the right last name. I'm afraid that my children might give up on fun team sports because they were taught that you should only be rewarded for winning, and not for hard work.

It's great to excel at something and to pursue that, but it's even greater to try and maybe even fail at something. I can't imagine something that takes more courage than a young kid trying something that they might not be good at, working hard to improve, and showcasing their effort in front of a society that only cares about you if you win. That is bravery, and that deserves to be rewarded.

College--Where have all the manners gone?

Students are paying more than ever to go to college. In fact, the average rate of tuition in the US has almost tripled since 1980. So with this unwarranted (and by unwarranted, I mean the price has increased faster than the rate of inflation, with little or no improvement in the quality of college education) rise in tuition, my immediate thought is that students would value the item they are buying (education) now more than ever. Surprisingly that doesn't seem to be the case; only 59% of students who started college full time, finished a degree within six years. Why is this? Is college more difficult? Is it because most students are having their parents pay for at least some of their education?

So what does this along with a general decline in American morals and standards mean for the typical college classroom? Well, it means students feel entitled to respect from their professors, without needing to give any respect in return. It means we feel we pay enough to be able to do whatever we want whenever we want. It means, we don't care what we do, because we didn't make the personal investment and therefor won't treasure our education as much as if we had paid for it ourselves. It means... we need to learn a few things about how to act in a college classroom.

1) It is not okay to wear your hat indoors; I'm talking to you, guy in the ten gallon cowboy hat in front of me, blocking my view of the whiteboard.
2) No, you should not chew Copenhagen in class.
3) For that matter, you should not spit your nasty Copenhagen spit into your old Mountain Dew bottle.
4) Yes, your talking to your friends is distracting everyone around you, even if it's a whisper.
5) Leaving your headphones in so you can only halfway pay attention to the lecture is not polite! Especially when you leave "Baby Got Back" on loud enough for the person sitting next to you to hear it.
6) Sitting on the outside of the aisle when there are still plenty of empty seats in the middle of the row is not okay... unless you like having everyone's butt in your face as they climb over you to get to an empty seat.
7) Contrary to popular belief, you shouldn't wear what your wore to bed to class. And yes, we can tell that those crumpled, paint-stained sweat pants are sleep-worthy and comfortable, but your professor dressed up and you owe the same respect.
8) Don't put your dirty shoes on the chair in front of you; someone has to sit there. Classroom does not equal living room!
9) Just because you're allowed to text, doesn't mean that you should.
10) Bullying, gossip, and talking behind someones back didn't suddenly become okay.


There are a lot of great things about my generation... we can turn on a computer without asking for help for one! But, as I'm sitting in class with all of the "bright minds of the future" around me, I have to wonder... where have all the manners gone?... and how can we get them back?

Color-Blind

Why am I so angry?

I'm not angry because some people judge me because of my skin tone. I'm not angry because some people judge me based on my weight. I'm not angry because some people judge me based on my marital status/age. I'm not angry because some people judge me because I'm a woman. I'm not even angry that I can't eat ice cream without getting fat.

I'm angry because society is taking away my color-blindness.

For those of you who interpret things literally, no, I do not see only gray. I see only people. Lately in the news we've been besieged with stories about a young man's death. Michael Brown, from Ferguson, Missouri was shot by a police officer, resulting in his death. Since the tragic incident, I've seen numerous headlines on national papers, K-State's college paper, and Facebook about his death. The hashtag "#ameriKKKa" was even thrown around several times. This was all coming from people angry that he was shot. They weren't angry that a young man was dead. They weren't angry that a young boy was tangled up in crime. They were angry because a white cop shot an unarmed black boy.

(For anyone who disagrees, did you see the national outrage about this case on your Facebook timeline? Or this case? Did you see looting, did you see Barack Obama give a speech about it?)

In light of this situation, there are several things we all need to understand.

1) Racism, or "color vision" is not born, it's created.
When was the last time you've seen a little kid refuse to play with someone because of their skin color? They might not play with another kid because the other kid is smelly, isn't nice, doesn't have the same sense of humor, and so on, but I've never seen a kid--unprompted by adults--say they didn't like another kid because of their color. Children are products of their upbringing. If they are raised to be prejudiced against others for whatever reason, they will be prejudiced against others for whatever reason.

2) Prejudice is not only exercised because of skin color.
People are judged for various reasons. It is not unique to be judged. It is not unique to have someone make an opinion about you because of the way you look. I can guarantee that someone will have an opinion on you for the way you look, dress, act, talk, marry, walk, believe, and so on.

3) Some people are prejudiced.
No one is all good, or all bad. Each of us has undesirable traits that we need to work on. Some people are genuinely racist for whatever reason, and this is WRONG. There's no two ways about it. If you are racist, you are wrong. But, it is also wrong to dislike someone for being fat. I've been made fun of, called names, and have had judgement made about me for my weight. That is not okay either. My point is, there are people everywhere who will find a reason not to like you. Some of these people may have more power than others (like police officers). Yes, police officers are people too. There are police officers who are racist, and there are police officers who are color-blind. They exert more power over society. That does not mean that people are being unfairly represented. It means, that some police officers are downright crappy. (Sorry for the language!) I know that I've probably gotten out of some tickets because I'm a young women, and some men have gotten stuck with some tickets because they're men. Is that okay? Why isn't that a problem? Isn't that a prejudice?

4) Racism can go both ways.
When I'm looking through scholarships, I'm unable to apply for many of them. It's not because I'm unqualified. It's not because I don't have financial need. It's because I'm white. Let me tell you, that feels pretty crappy. My husband experiences even more of this as a white man. He misses out on the scholarships that you can only apply for as a woman. Didn't Martin Luther King Jr. say he wanted people judged on the content of their character? So then, why is it that I can't join a black fraternity or sorority? Why can't I join the black student union? Why can't I apply for black/Hispanic/Asian scholarships? These things should be based on merit and need. Instances such as these only promote color-vision. They don't promote improvement or innovation in society; they take away from it. Personally, I want someone who really needs a scholarship getting it. If someone has better grades, more extracurricular involvement, more need, and more obstacles, I hope they get it, but it can never be fair with this system.

5) Talking about race only spreads racism.

I feel guilty for writing this article. Why? Because when you read this--I'm talking about you Mom and Dad!--you've thought about your skin color. You've thought about the skin colors of others. You've thought about black and white and fat and skinny and male and female. Have you thought about "human?" Have you thought about how horrible it would be for the family of a young boy to lose their son? Have you thought of how terrible it must be for people to feel bullied because of something they have absolutely no control over? Maybe. Maybe not. The less we talk and think about race, the less we talk about the exterior, and the more we start to see people.

I am a person. I am kind, impatient, intelligent, ambitious, opinionated, outspoken, thoughtful, among so many other things. This is how I want to be viewed, and this is how I want to view others. Don't be ashamed of being white or black or yellow or red or brown; don't even think about it! I will not apologize for being white, or so called white-privilege, because for me, it doesn't exist. You are you, fearfully and wonderfully made. I owe it to you and to myself to love like Christ did: unconditionally, so I will fight to remain color-blind despite all this garbage the media is feeding me.

I choose MY choice

In today's society, there are a few pretty basic decisions every person will hit in their life if they live until old age.

1) Should I graduate from high school?
2) Should I go to college?
3) If I go to college what will I major in?
4) If I major in that, where will I work?
5) If I decide to work in that field where will I live?
6) If I live there how will that affect my family?
7) Will I get married?
8) If I get married will I have children?
9) If I have children how will I raise them?
10) Where will I live to have my children go to school?
11) When will I retire?
12) If I retire how will I pay for it?
13) Where will I retire.

This is by no means a comprehensive list, but I think it covers some of the big ones. The main thing I'm trying to show is how much of that list happens before you're 25. In my life, I've already had to make decisions on about half of that list. I'm sure I'm not alone in this. The pressure  is insane. It's difficult enough to wonder if you're pleasing yourself, another thing all together if you're taking into consideration the opinion of family or friends--as most of us do.

One person I really admire in this regard is my brother, Dakota. Dakota is so intelligent that he can excel at anything he tries, he's also such a gifted artist that he could easily become a professional. All of us (his family) expected him to go to college, but he said he wasn't interested. We tried to persuade him. He still said no. He wanted to take time to just relax after the rigor of high school. So, he got a job. He is providing for himself. He is a hard worker, and his boss loves having him as an employee. I'm proud of him for that. He stood by what he thought was best for him while everyone else was telling him to do the opposite. Now, it is my time to take a leaf out of Dakota's book.

I started college majoring in animal sciences with the hopes of becoming a large animal veterinarian. I love working with cattle and I assumed this major would utilize my intelligence to its maximum potential while still allowing me to do something I love. I excelled in my first year and a half of college. With a 4.0, campus involvement, and undergraduate research, I was practically guaranteed admission to vet school. But I started feeling a nudge pulling me away from vet school. So, I thought, okay, I really liked AI (artificial insemination). I'll go to school for animal reproduction. Still science. Still cattle. The last semester before I studied abroad, I took animal A&P. I appreciated that class and it's challenges more than any class I have taken as an undergraduate. What really caught my attention was studying the nervous system, particularly when we spoke about how it affects mood and can relate to psychiatric disorders. This was quite a leap from reproduction, but still doable. Many vet schools offer masters degrees in neuroscience. That's a good path for me, I thought. My life was turned upside down when I studied abroad.

The six months I spent in other countries truly affected me in a very deep and meaningful way. I'm not sure whether the experience changed me, or forced me to accept myself as I really am. The longer I spent abroad, the less interested I became in the academic path I was on. By the time I returned to the US, I had no idea what job I wanted to pursue. As a planner, it was very difficult for me not to have a plan. So, I started looking for one.

A couple of weeks ago, after hours of Googling, I found it. A feeling came over me... it was a good feeling of relief as well as purpose. The career I found was "Psychiatric Mental Health Nurse." I feel it fits my personality and skills well, and Ty agrees.

What does this mean for us?

Well, I'll graduate in May with a Bachelors of Science in Animal Sciences and Industry (and honestly, people are technically animals). After graduation, I will start in an accelerated BSN (Bachelors of Science in Nursing) program that will take anywhere for a year to fifteen months to complete. K-State doesn't have a nursing program, so we will have to relocate. Ty will continue his classes online. My fingers are crossed that Tucker will still want to live with us once we move. :)

Making a decisions like this--a change really--is scary. It will affect both my husband and I for the rest of our lives. When changing majors after a bachelors degree, it's easy to feel like I wasted three years of my life on an education I won't use. I have to keep reminding myself that this time in my life has been extremely valuable. I've learned more about animals that I love, I was married, I study abroad, and had so many opportunities through the college of agriculture that I might not have had in another program. Also, I was lucky enough to (finally) discover what I currently think is my calling in life.

Minimum Wage

By: Ty Stelting

When I think of minimum wage, I think of jumping off point or starting off easy. When I think of fast food or gas station attendant, I think of "how can I move on?"

Imagine a world where you could go and do dishes in the back of a restaurant and get $12.50/hr in western Kansas. Life is easy and this job takes the skill of working a dishwasher. It was a two day training and you need nothing else but that. Your boss can no longer give you raises but that's okay, you can afford things that you couldn't before. This goes on for a month and start to realize that the food at the restaurant is getting more expensive. In fact, you notice everything is getting more expensive. Soon enough you're back to where you started and all your friends start complaining with you that this pay isn't enough either. You start to think..."I dropped out of college for this job?" "I have a car I can no longer afford?" "Why are they cutting my hours?" "All my favorite little stores aren't hiring me and the restaurant went out of business." Why is employment so hard to find? How come the welfare system isn't giving me more than before?

Well here are the reasons. We now have a surplus of unskilled laborers in the world who expect more than before. The restaurant will not cut into their already slim profits to accommodate the new wages. They have to charge more for their food to spread their wage accrual. Taxes are higher because employers are obligated to pay a percentage not a fixed amount. Employers will work more hours by themselves to cut taxes. They cut your hours and work everyday. Stress to raise prices lowers demand and they lose money below the amount of their variable costs. It would have been cheaper to not sell anything or even open the building. The restaurant shuts down along with three other businesses. The only places to stay open are those people who had senior workers or workers who were already close to that high minimum wage. They aren't hiring on trainees and will not be needing any more help. You are out of the job, along with your other friends. Life is no longer easy for you. The government has to pay their workers more to match inflation and cut into welfare. They manage to keep it at the same level but inflation has caused your expenses to skyrocket.

The market then later stabilizes and now instead of a dollar menu there is $3.50 menu with miniburgers that taste even more like cheap animal product.

We notice the highest rise in inflation and crap is just more expensive. Skilled labor is still more desirable and everything...is...the....same.

What did we gain from raising minimum wage everywhere?...
Nothing.
A lesson in economics maybe.

I want to give you the people who are like..."it works in big cities Ty, why can't it work everywhere?"

First of all, it isn't working in big cities.
Lets just say I move to Seattle where I can work at McDonald's for $11.50/hr and life is affordable barely...
What is my incentive to go to college, my parents cover my insurance, cover me when I'm short because I partied too much that week, and my work is stressful but doesn't need school so I'm good...

What are we fostering? We are allowing our next generation to think that minimum wage is good enough...that they don't need education? How can this be good for our next generation? Life isn't about taking the easy way everyday. It's about the constant strength we get from struggles we face everyday. And the struggle of when to flip a burger isn't it.

I do not want to sound like people who are working for minimum wage are stupid and irresponsible. I enjoyed working for low pay because it was money that I needed.

I want to stop the repercussions from raising minimum wage and increasing the prices of everything. I want kids to aim higher and not have to pay for the inflated college prices. (School tuition will be less attractive if we have higher inflation.) It makes unemployment rates higher because of a business being able to have six workers they can only hire three.

Consumers start looking for the cheapest thing because the skilled pay is lagging for the first 6-8 months. We go through a recession because no one wants to loan out money because money will be worth less later due to inflation over time.

Raising minimum wage does nothing. For anyone.

Why I Chose to Dress and THINK Modestly.

Going clothes shopping is, and always has been a nightmare for me, but lately it's reached epic proportions of horrible. Why? 1) I'm in college. My money is technically the tax-payer's, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't appreciate me spending it on clothes. 2) My body is not shaped like other women's bodies. None of our bodies are made the same, therefore, 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14 doesn't match everyone. I AM NOT AN EVEN NUMBER!... and also not even tempered. (Ha, welcome to punland everyone!) 3) I do not feel morally comfortable wearing about 99% of the clothes for sale in stores today. The other 1% of decent clothes aren't cute and usually way too expensive.

A few years ago, I had a talk with some of the younger girls in my family. It was fair-time, and they were not dressed modestly. I used a famous, cliche line, "You're sending out the wrong message." I'd heard this phrase a million times before. These girls were dressed like the majority of college girls dress now: booty shorts, tank tops with ample cleavage showing. Not only were they dressed in a revealing manner, they were putting themselves out there: making eyes at boys, flipping their perfectly groomed hair around, and doing other provocative things. Certainly I didn't like them acting that way, but I was also concerned for their safety. In a small town, fair always brings out the good, the bad, and the ugly in people, especially men. Recently, I started wondering why women dress immodestly. That may seem silly, but I feel like there's a deeper reason than just "to get a boyfriend" or "to get attention."

In the media, there's been an increasing trend towards making yourself happy at all costs. You want to have an abortion? It's your choice. You want to sleep around? It's your choice. You want to marry anyone at anytime? That's your choice. You want to smoke pot? That's your choice. You want to drink 'til you drop? That's fine, just don't drive afterward. There's also a trend towards vanity.

How many "perfect" women stare at you from magazine covers? How many perfectly muscled men flex on posters at the gym? In all honesty, how many famous people are there that don't look like they're ready to go run a marathon while batting their full lashes without even breaking a sweat? In my opinion, a pretty large percentage. So we've created a dilemma for ourselves without knowing it: We can do anything we want, and a person can't have a whole, healthy, successful life without a "pleasing" physical appearance.

In such a vain setting, how are we supposed to receive any validation to remind ourselves that we are on the right track to blissful, consequence free, and "beautiful" life? We need to look to other people. This is especially evident on Facebook, where people constantly post about their lives, many times looking for validation. ("Went for a run today!" "-Insert inspirational quote here-" along with a heavily edited selfie.) But here's an interesting thought:

You can be immodest while dressing modestly, and you can be modest while dressing immodestly.

When I was in high school, I wanted boys to notice me. I cared whether or not a certain boy thought I was cute, and it would destroy me when I found out a boy liked another girl more than me or thought she was more attractive. I cared about what other boys thought of me so much that I developed a crush on a boy just because he was the only guy to tell me that I looked beautiful at prom. If that one compliment made me feel good, can you imagine how I felt when no one would compliment me? I was dressing modestly, but I was immodest with my emotions.

Back to the story about these girls in my family. One of the girls dressed in a very cute, and modest outfit the next day and they went to hang out together with some of our other family. Upon running into an adult in our family, one of the girls mentioned the talk I had with them, and the adult said, "Go upstairs and change into the shortest pair of shorts you have." The adult elaborated to this young girl, saying that she should wear whatever makes her feel confident, and she shouldn't care about what anyone else has to say about it. (There it is again, our culture of "do whatever makes you happy at any cost.") 

But she did care. 

Is it really plausible that women walk around leaving so little to the imagination because they had some mysterious inclination to dress akin to Victoria Secret models? No. Women dress that way because that is how they get attention. Any time we went to the club, the girls who dressed, or acted immodestly always had a dance partner. One of my good friends, who is the nicest girl I've ever met, but always dressed and acted modestly was never asked to dance. In my opinion, the girl most worthy of attention wasn't receiving any, and she was okay with it. The more I look for similar situations, the more I see them.

I chose to dress modestly because I decided to save my body for my husband. My body is a temple, and I decided to treat it as such. I decided to act modestly because my heart is for God, and now it is for God and my husband. I derive my self worth from the fact that I am wonderfully and fearfully made, from the good deeds I do, and from the love in my heart, and not from compliments--or the lack thereof--from other people.

In closing, I'd like to share a quote from my favorite author:

"I’ve got two daughters who will have to make their way in this skinny-obsessed world, and it worries me, because I don’t want them to be empty-headed, self-obsessed, emaciated clones; I’d rather they were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’. And frankly, I’d rather they didn’t give a gust of stinking chihuahua flatulence whether the woman standing next to them has fleshier knees than they do. Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons.” 

-JK Rowling

The Myth of "Community" in Crossfit

Interaction with other people is one of our most basic human needs. For many people, a large part of living a healthy and happy life is developing and sustaining intimate relationships with friends and family. It's been scientifically proven that babies and children suffer developmentally with a lack of human interaction. With relationships being so paramount, it's no surprise that one of the premier advertising strategies for Crossfit is to portray a "Box" (gym) as a community.

Supporters of Crossfit preach that the Box is a judgement-free zone where Crossfit members will actively encourage each other to perform at their best. It is drilled into the consumers that in Crossfit, everyone is competing against themselves and not others. This advertising scheme is in place to draw people to the Box, and make them believe that the Box is more than just your average, run of the mill gym.

Crossfit boxes are much more than your average, run of the mill gym. Every day, a different workout is provided that can be scaled to difficulties ranging from beginner to advanced to competitive. At the Crossfit Box we attend, there are women seven months pregnant, people fifty or more pounds overweight, people of average health, and elite Crossfitters who train for Crossfit competitions. Crossfit serves all of these people and serves them well. In my month at Crossfit785 I have become stronger and leaner than I was when I started.  But, I can't say that the community boasted about on online forums exists because of Crossfit.

Crossfit785 has roughly 100 members. Each class is limited to 21 people, and there are about seven classes offered throughout the course of the day. Some people consistently attend at the same time every day, and others don't. I typically go to either the 5:30 AM or 5:30 PM classes. In my opinion, that's pretty ample time to be able to make a judgement about the Crossfit community in the Box I attend, and this is my observation.

People in Crossfit are just people.

These are the same people you'll find at work, school, the grocery store, or a restaurant.

People form cliques.

Once a close group of friends forms, the members of said group can be pretty unwilling to let someone new in. Making new friends is tedious, and if someone has a few friends they go to Crossfit with regularly, it's pretty unlikely they're going to make great friends with someone else simply because they already have friends!

People are competitive.

Period. One workout program typically won't change someone's entire way of life. Some people find validation in competing against others. The other day this guy mentioned that he always wanted to finish in the top half of the class, and if he would finish in the bottom half it would upset him... that doesn't necessarily go along with the doctrine of competing for personal records.

People can be mean.

Some people can be flat out rude. They might have had a bad day, or maybe they're just mean all the time. People don't stop being mean just because they're working out.

People can be really nice.

There are nice people everywhere. In our Box, we've been welcomed by several people, and even made a couple of acquaintances. Our coaches are eager to give us advice, and correct our form when necessary (read: a lot). One or two people might offer us encouragement every now and then.


My point? Community is not inherent only to Crossfit. Community is inherent to any place where roughly the same group of people go to the same place with common purpose. In any community there are nice people, mean people, funny people, and strange people. It takes all sorts of people to form a community. But, that can happen at a regular gym, at a yoga class, a book club, or any host of activities where people regularly come together. So, don't join Crossfit only for the community, because just like anything. "community" is an extremely romanticized word. Join Crossfit because you want superior coaching, a regular workout plan, and have a desire to get in the best shape of your life, not because you want to be a part of a community.

Do as I say, not as I do.

"Do as I say, not as I do."
This sentence sounds so ridiculous, but how many times have you seen it in action? It's the type of phrase that people never admit to, but instead proclaim loudly without words in their day to day lives.

In parents: "Don't drink." "Don't do drugs." "Pick up after yourself." "Don't bully other kids."
In churches: "Don't judge others." "Love everyone." "Don't have premarital sex."
In teachers: "Do your homework on time, so I can give it back to you a week later than I said I would."
In bosses: "Come to work on time." "Work hard." "Don't get on Facebook at work."

It seems like every turn we get to, we're being told one thing, and shown another thing. This has left me, and I'm sure a multitude of other people wondering what to do in life. What adults should I model myself after? What members of the congregation should I model myself after? What teachers should I really revere and respect? Surely not everything I'm being told/shown to do is correct. How is a child or teenager or even young adult supposed to sift through all of these examples and decipher what type of life they should lead?

I'm challenging myself, and those around me to lead authentic lives, because people are watching whether you know it or not. Your peers in class, colleagues at work, your children or grandchildren, your employees, the children of others in grocery stores, your employees, everywhere there are people, you are being noticed!

Much easier said than done.

How easy is it to give into our vices at a difficult hour? Hard day at work? Drink a beer, right before telling your child not to go out and drink at a party. Frustrated with a lack of productivity in employees? Ask them to work harder right before going into your office for hours without interacting or working with them.

But, I also count on the examples of those around me to help lead myself and my future children. Someday--far in the future--my children will begin dating. They won't just model themselves after Ty and I, they will model themselves after the interactions of young couples in their schools. I hope the other young couples can help set a good, wholesome standard for them to live up to. I, personally, like to see older married couples still living a good life, so I can know what to look forward to or work towards in the future. (Our grandparents have done a wonderful job of this!)

This is a call to action, not words. Instead of posting to your friends on Facebook, find a cause and work, so others can see you in your quest and become interested. Be the man or woman you want your children to become and treat others in the way you expect to be treated. To quote Ghandi for about the millionth time: "Be the change you wish to see in the world."

The biggest disease affecting twenty-somethings.

"Your twenties are for you!"
"Don't settle down, this time is about discovering yourself, making mistakes, and doing what YOU want!"
"Don't get married! You need to date around!"
"Don't settle with your first boyfriend, date guys, LOTS of guys, so you know what you want!"
"If you ever can't pay for something, Mom and Dad are here to help you. ALWAYS!"
"Don't get a job in college! I want you to 'focus on your studies!'"

If I did a search on advice for college-aged twenty-somethings, I would be besieged with blog posts restating the previous statements. If you're friends with a twenty-something on Facebook you've probably seen posts/pictures/blogs about what the 20's are for. I.e. "46 reasons to be single in college." "23 Reasons not to get engaged before 23" "40 reminders for your College Years." OR the pictures that say, "All my friends are getting married and here I am -insert something "better" here-." OR the posts that complain about someone posting too many pictures of their babies/dogs/husbands etc.

Well, let me tell you, this selfishness is the biggest disease affecting twenty-somethings. It is making our twenty-somethings lazy, self-serving, and immature. People my age will soon be in charge of government, health care, education, and many other important aspects of society, and we need to be constantly working to become strong, mature, and selfless adults that can lead out country to prosperity.

So, here is my list of "Eight things to remember in your twenties."

1) Once you turn 18 your parents owe you nothing.
Your parents have an inherent obligation to support you financially and emotionally until you turn eighteen. That's a given, but once you have moved out and are on your own, you are responsible for yourself. Your parents don't have to pay for your car, your college, or for you to go out with your friends, and they shouldn't have to.

2) Until you're totally independent, your parents get a "say" in your life.
Number one being said, I know how difficult it is to become independent in college. If your parents are still providing for you like you are a child, then they reserve the right to control certain aspects of your life.

3) Your twenties are a time to become fiscally responsible.
Sure, your parents might be paying for your tuition and a little spending money, but what happens when you graduate and you realize you have no savings and debt to top it off? Even if you're lucky enough to land a job right after graduation, you still have to pay for moving expenses, and let me tell you, that's not cheap! So, GET A JOB. Even if it's just a few hours a week it will go a long way toward helping you become self-sufficient.

4) You are responsible for your actions whether you are five, twenty, forty-five, or ninety years old.
Almost all of the articles that are popular encourage twenty-somethings to go crazy whether it's with alcohol, food, or with the opposite sex. When you're standing before God when you die, do you think he's going to say, "Ahhh, that's okay, you were twenty!"? I don't think so. That's not even mentioning the earthly consequences of our actions.

5) The decisions you make now will follow you for the rest of your life.
If you are irresponsible, my guess is you won't be building a good foundation for the rest of your life. If you work hard and smart in your twenties, you'll be setting yourself up for a great future in your thirties, instead of  spending your thirties doing damage control.

6) Promiscuity is never okay.
Let me introduce you to the duct tape theory. Every time you put duct tape on something, a little bit of the adhesive comes off. The more you move your duct tape around the less sticky it becomes, until eventually it won't be able to stick anymore. The same is true with relationships--especially physical relationships. There are serious physical repercussions that come along with sexual activity: namely parenthood and STIs. You have a responsibility to yourself and the person you're dating to be responsible and not create unneeded baggage for your future spouses.

7) College is not intended to be a party.
Partying is talked about just as much or more than classes, and that's sad. If people got just as excited for classes and homework as they did for the parties, our world would be an entirely different place. I'm not saying don't go to parties, but I am saying be smart about it. Your education should always be your first priority.

8) Your representation of yourself matters.
One day, you're going to apply for jobs. Do you think you're going to get a good reference from the professor of a class that you always went to five minutes late, hungover, and in sweatpants? Or if you always talked with a neighbor in class instead of taking notes? Probably not. There's a good chance a possible employer might know a professor you took classes under and call them to check on you whether or not you listed that professor as a reference. Be respectful in class, no matter how uninteresting or unimportant you may find it.


I'm sure plenty of people will disagree with this list. But, I'd like to see in ten years where the people who worked a good job, got good grades, participated in scholarly activities, and acted more responsibly are as opposed to the people reading and sharing these "Your twenties are for -insert immature actions here-."