"The dreams I have laid upon your heart, I have given.

They will come to pass at exactly the right time."

These are the words that get me through each day.

While fighting through the trials that all high school seniors muddle through as they begin the process from childhood to adulthood, I found myself ready to give up. I'd get online to fill out applications, and spend more time on MySpace (facebook was, at that time, exclusively for college students) than on the actual task at hand. I knew what it was that I wanted to do with my life, but at that point I was struggling. I wasn't ready to admit the dream to anyone, fearing they wouldn't understand and would just tell me that it wasn't "a real way to make a living." I was also afraid that if I chased the dream, I'd end up finding that it was completely unattainable for a naive small town girl -- but I couldn't just give up on it. I couldn't bring myself to plan a "real life" because that would mean that I had forgotten everything I had ever wanted.

I was lost in limbo -- between dream life and real life.

During one of my procrastination sessions on MySpace, I stumbled onto the profile of an old friend that I hadn't viewed in a long time. She had filled her "About Me" with her favorite Scripture verses -- I read through them, and one caught my eye:

"The dreams I have laid upon your heart, I have given.

They will come to pass at exactly the right time."

They were the words I needed.

I can't remember now why I had to get offline so suddenly, but I know I left before I could get its...uh... Biblical address, if you will -- the book, chapter, and verse.

The next day at school, the words kept playing over and over in my head. I rushed home to check my friend's profile for where in the Bible I could find that verse, and it was gone. The other verses were there, but mine was gone. I got on Google, typed it in, and clicked search... Nothing. I typed it in again, this time in quotations... Nothing. I tried Scripture searches all over the internet...

Nothing. Nowhere. Nonexistent.

Miraculous.

I will never again let reality overshadow the dream.
It has been laid upon my heart for a reason.
It has been given.

It will come to pass at exactly the right time.

My phone call came in e-mail form.

On March 6, I will be making the trek up to Seattle to audition for a spot in the vocal program at Cornish College of the Arts.

Wish me luck, kids!

I've seen the sun disappear behind the New York City skyline.

I've sat under a palm tree and watched the fire of the Hawaiian sky

turn to black.


But nothing -- nothing will make my breath catch in my chest

like a sunset here at home.


Of this I am sure.

I can be such a lazy bum.

Most days -- actually, all days, I dread going to work. I get in my car and turn up my music (though there's nothing at all unusual about that) and pout the whole way to Seaside.

Why do I do this? There are not many things in this world that I have a grey outlook upon. I usually find most everything fun and amusing (trust me, it really doesn't take much.) It's not that I hate my job, because I don't. I actually enjoy my job and the people I work with... Well, most days. There are a lot of strong personalities at work, and it's hard keep a room full of any kind of women drama-free for 8 minutes, let alone 8 hours.

Dress Barn is an incredibly bizarre company to work for. The expecations that they set are ridiculous. We have this new program called "Steps 2 Selling", or more efficiently titled "S2S". The steps they give are not impossible, and actually they are relatively good ideas that do work in making a sale. The only issue, though, is that they forget that every customer is different. If someone walks in only wanting to spend $50, that's all they're going to spend, no matter how hard you work to convince them otherwise. Yet, if we don't go through every single step they give us with every single customer, our job is automatically on the line. We don't get taken aside and told, "Maybe try it like this next time," or "Perhaps you should have brought them an item that would have worked for a casual or dressy event." No, we get scolded and threatened. It's insane.

Oh, and let's not forget the time they tried to convict us of fraud because we were using a coupon code that was assigned to a store in Texas. Okay, A: We didn't steal their code -- it is what is printed on the back of our mall coupon. We read it and type it in. Whoever screwed up in making the coupon is at fault, not us. (We sent them a copy of our coupon so they could actually see that we were right, and it felt better than it should have to prove them wrong.) B: This coupon has read this way for 3 years -- we checked the electronic store journal as to how far back those numbers have been punched in. Why, just now, is this auditor finally realizing that it's wrong... Do your job, pal. C: We lose money every time someone brings in a coupon. Why would we steal a coupon code for customers when we get no benefit from it?

So anyway, my job is ever-stressful because of the strange ways of the company. I am hardly one to keep my opinions a secret, but in this environment I know I better keep my mouth shut... Even though I would love nothing more than to debate with them and be the victor! But I know that another huge part in why I hate going is just that I'm a lazy slob. I love staying up late and sleeping in. I love spending the day in my pj's, catching up on my Tivo and scrapbooking. And I know that if I were ever given the choice to do that or go to work, I'd pick my jammies every time.

I need to change my outlook towards my job. Once I actually get to work, I'm usually fine and have a great attitude (though not without having to constantly remind myself to keep smiling.) I need prayer for energy to get up and face the day and not want to hide under my covers. I need prayer for strength to get through the day. Mostly, I need prayer for patience -- patience with the company; with whatever drama goes down daily at the Dress Barn. It will be hugely appreciated.

I never knew Molly Hightower, yet the sound of her name has become as familiar to me as that of someone I've known my whole life.

Last week when Haiti was struck by a devastating earthquake, our little town was shaken harder than one would expect for a place so far away from the actual incident. Who ever thought that a small Finnish community in Washington state, and a tiny impoverished country thousands of miles away would ever be as connected as they are? As soon as we heard of the quake, our hearts and minds immediately went to those connections: Jeff and Katie's soon-to-be adopted daughter lives in Haiti. Andre, a missionary that the Valley Bible Church supports, lives in Haiti. Christina, my Mom's co-worker -- and very, very dear friend -- has a niece who also lives in Haiti.

We see on the news one natural disaster after another, and we see the people affected by it -- and while we hurt and pray for them, we never really understand what it is that they're going through. We see, but don't feel what it is to lose everything, or to wonder if your loved one has survived. Suddenly, the people of our town were thrown into the midst of how it feels to go through each day without knowing whether to celebrate a life, or mourn a loss. Watching people that we know and love so dearly wonder whether they've lost their child, their niece, or their friend was... There isn't a word for it. There shouldn't be a word for it...

After many days of worry and prayer, we got word that Andre was safe, as well as Jeff and Katie's little girl. We were so immensely grateful for answered prayer. It was like a huge weight had been lifted, but we were still waiting for information about Christina's niece -- her niece, Molly.

Her story was all over the news; the story of the Port Orchard girl who selflessly left her life in the States behind to care for special needs orphans in Haiti -- the story of a girl who gave her life for those orphans.

The news of Molly's death was hard for everyone -- it was hard for me. Over the few days that I had known her name and her story, I had felt a strange bond with her that I still can't explain. I don't know if it's because of our connection through her Aunt's friendship with my Mom, because her work with orphans is something that I've always cared so passionately about, or because of our shared faith... Maybe it's a combination of all three. Whatever the reason, I found myself grieving this girl. I still find myself grieving her.

Molly has a blog on this site: http://mollyinhaiti.blogspot.com/ My Mom and I started reading it a couple days before we heard the tragic news. Reading the words of this amazing girl has inspired me to do more with my life. Not to just dream about doing it -- but to actually do it.

The way her life has inspired me is similar to the way I've been inspired by the life of Jonathan Larson -- the composer of the Broadway musical 'Rent'. Both used their talents to better the lives of other people, and both lived lives that were all too short. What really struck me about the similarities in how I've been affected by them, was what I found in one number and seven simple words: 525, 600 minutes; how do you measure a year? It's a line from one of Jonathan Larson's songs -- also the name of Molly's blog. How interesting is it that this girl who has inspired me so much, was deeply touched enough by the words of a man who has also given me much inspiration, that she titled her blog with them?

If anyone knows 'Rent', you know that it's more about the moral of the story than the actual story, and Molly's life encompassed it: live your life for every moment, love people for who they are, and give a little of yourself to help someone else. Maybe that's another way in which I feel bonded to her -- we've both been inspired by the music of this show.

Please visit Molly's blog. Read about the incredible work she did and about the children she loved. Let her life inspire you to do more for this world.

One phone call -- that's all I need now.

I filled out my online application to Cornish College of the Arts a month ago, trying desperately to remember all the activities, clubs and volunteer opportunities I had participated in from my freshman to senior year of high school. I made lists of everything I could remember, and I spent way too much time stressing over two 500 word essays: 1. Who are you as an artist, and how will Cornish allow you to grow? 2. Choose a song that has inspired you and explain how.

Usually I could whip those essays out with no trouble, but I suddenly found myself unable to find the words... And I lost the words in a way that not even a call to good ol' Mr. Wise could fix. I've spent the last 2 years making and completely changing plans -- never losing sight of what the dream is, but the road to getting there keeps winding. Going to Cornish is my last 'logical' idea, and I found myself realizing that in a huge way as I tried to fumble my way through those essays. ''What can I say that will make them like me?" and "I shouldn't say that, I should use a bigger word to sound like I'm more knowledgeable in music,'' were only a few of the thoughts running through my head. It took a lot of sitting and staring, an enormous honey-vanilla chai latte, and some encouraging words from my cousin's girlfriend Erin (thanks, Erin!) to get me to just sit down and write about me and my thoughts -- not what I thought the Admissions Office wanted to hear.

Because I had a late start on my application, I couldn't get my transcripts from the school until after Christmas Break (go, me.) So I waited and waited for January, and sat and read the countless e-mails stating 'your application has been received, but we're missing your transcripts' Sorry, guys -- they're on their way! I promise!...Oy. It was a long few weeks.

Finally school started up again and I was able to get my transcripts sent, but the process wasn't done. I had to record my pre-screening cd... Yay.

Essentially, the pre-screening cd is a way to avoid the American Idol crazies. In an effort to save themselves from days of sitting through auditions of people who have no business being there, Cornish has all music performance majors send in a cd of themselves so they can fish through those and eliminate the hopeless. The left over candidates get an invite to a live audition.

I had done something similar before when I auditioned for the Continental Singers, but this situation was different. I was 13 when I made my casette (ha!) for Continentals, and I didn't really have an idea then of what it was like to be nervous of being turned down. If I didn't make it, my life wouldn't change at all. This time is different. There's a lot riding on this cd.

The three songs I chose to sing are not songs I would have chosen if I'd had more time: 'If I Loved You', 'Nel Cor Piu Non mi Sento' and 'Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again'. None of them scream, ''Here I am -- this is who I am as a singer!'' No... While they may not hear it, the songs actually say, ''Alrighty, I had zero time to prepare, I know these songs by heart, and my accompanist knows how to play them..." Sweet. We'll see how it plays out.

I practiced each song a few times so I'd know exactly what I wanted to do for the recording. The first two songs went pretty well -- although there is one passage in 'Nel Cor' that gave me trouble and even in the recording process I redid it, oh... Probably five or six different times.

'Wishing' was a whole different story. When I started practicing it, my Mom looks up from the piano and says, "You have to sing the story. You did it with the other two."

Awesome. Here I am, already fighting off terrible nerves knowing that this cd is a big deal, and she tells me to really sing the story of this song -- the story about a girl losing her father. Not a place I want to go to, Mother! Especially when my Dad is in the room. Especially when I'm already fighting nervous tears... I quit fighting at that point, though. The tears came... And came and came and came.

I ran to the church kitchen and made myself some peppermint tea, trying to keep snot from filling my larynx (such a glamorous profession.) I took it up to the nursery and texted Conor, spilling my guts into the phone... He's a good friend for actually putting up with me in my crazy moments when I can't even put up with myself, and an even better friend for actually responding. That boy gave me good words to make me suck it up and go out there and record. Actually, that boy gave me words that, at first, made me cry even more, but he doesn't know that... Well, he does now, but... Okay, beside the point.

The point is, I got through the recording. The cd was mailed out on Monday.

Now I wait for a phone call. A phone call saying I've been invited to a live audition. This will be the most stressful step of all, but I'm not worried about that at this second. I'm just worried about getting there.

C'mon phone... Ring!

Sometimes I wish I could just pack a bag, jump on a plane and jet out of the country -- just for a while.

No plans. No inhibitions. No worries.
Just me, God, and the world.

Then I remember expenses, language barriers, strange food and customs and human trafficking, (something we, sadly, have to remember is now a huge issue...) It instantly puts a damper on my mood, though they are things one needs to consider.

Even still, I can't help but be tempted by the romanticism of it all: The spontaneity of leaving the world you know behind, and the adventure of exploring a brand new place -- the excitement of meeting interesting people, and the adrenaline in wondering what's to come next.

Maybe one day I'll just do it.
Maybe one day I'll just have to...

Yes.
One day I'll just have to.

A new year -- a new beginning.

After a long and stressful 2009 full of illness, off-the-wall employers, college applications gone awry and ever-changing life plans, I'm counting on this year being one of change and growth.

Never in my life have I entered a new year with so much hope. I finally feel like my time has come. Last year was one of discouragement and hardship -- neverending tests of my faith, and a constant struggle to hold on to my dreams...

Not this year.
This year will be amazing.
Exciting. Scary. Beautiful. Challenging. Incredible.

Hello, 2010: Let's be friends.