After two and a half years of brutally rapid spiritual growth, months of discernment, more anxious emails and text messages than I’m proud of, and a day and a half of biting my nails after the admissions committee met, I found out on Friday, November 8th, 2019 that I’ve been accepted to seminary at Starr King School for the Ministry. I’m starting their Master of Divinity degree program in January.

Godde, that feels so beyond amazing to say. I’ve had a name for my calling for a little over a year, but I’ve realized this has been my dream for my entire life.

When the email finally came in, I was at a loss for words for probably the first time in the history of Me.

I ugly cried for a solid 30 minutes. Henry came to investigate, and I told them I’m going to minister school and I was so happy that it just made me cry. They gave me the biggest hug ever and told me “I come minister school with you!”

And then I ugly cried some more.

I always thought “chase your dreams” was something people just said but didn’t mean. I’m in awe at the way the Universe has showed up for me, and I don’t have to go any further than my kitchen to see the most spectacular gifts she has shared with me on this journey.

This photo is of the door of my refrigerator. Some of those photos are three years old, from when Henry was still a baby and I still had no idea what I wanted to do with my life beyond giving them the best life I could.

The photo of Henry hugging his aunties Allison and Christi is from the day we left for Tallahassee, when we had coffee together and tried not to think too hard about how we had gone from all living in the same apartment complex to all living in different cities.

The photos with Wendy and Carol are from that last Sunday at Westside. They both recommended me for my job in Tallahassee, and so did Chloe. Carol also recommended me for admission to Starr King. I wrote about how Chloe changed my life in my admission essay.

That sticker has been on my refrigerator since the day we got to Florida. Mark snagged it for me, along with some other excellent UU swag, at General Assembly this year.

That fortune is from two days ago. It came from a stale fortune cookie that I left on the counter for over a week. It would have been true a week ago. It would have been true three months ago and three years ago.

The rainbow’s treasures already belong to me. I am the richest person in the world – and I did not get here alone.

I’m here because UUCT took a chance on an over-caffeinated, purple-haired, idealistic DRE.

I’m here because my family at Westside loves me well enough to tell me it was ok to go.

I’m here because my grandparents showed me selfless, unconditional love and grace over and over again.

I’m here because Shannon taught me Godde has a sense of humor.

I’m here because Wendy showed me how to handle challenge with compassion.

I’m here because Mags never stopped being a soft place to land.

I’m here because Ellen told me I should try.

I’m here because Allison taught me saving the world is a team effort.

I’m here because Carol never let me believe that I am anything less than worthy.

I’m here because Julia demonstrates Divine Love in action.

I’m here because Chloe welcomed me home from a four-year breakdown with a joyful embrace.

I’m here because Christi showed me the value of honoring my inner child.

I’m here because Henry gave me a reason to start living when I was previously content to die.

I’m here because two years ago this summer, something resembling God came to me and told me it was time to pick myself up, seek the help I needed, and begin the healing work I’d been avoiding.

I’m so glad I did.

I’m here because this calling refuses to go unanswered, and it took every single person I’ve ever known and every single thing I’ve been through to take it on.

There are not enough words for the gratitude I have for the amazing people who helped make it possible. I am so excited to begin this next phase of the journey.

“Best Friend,
Angel of the get-through,
All living is storm chasing.

Every good heart has lost its roof.
Let all the walls collapse at your feet,
Scream “timber” when they ask you how you are.
“Fine” is the suckiest word. It is the opposite of here
Here is the only place left on the map
Here is where you learn laughter can go extinct
and come back
I am already building a museum
For every treasure you unearth in the rock bottom.

Holy vulnerable cliff
God mason, heart heavier than all the bricks
Say this is what the pain made of you
An open, open, open road
An avalanche of feel it all
Don’t ever let anyone tell you, you are too much
Or it has been too long
Whatever guards the feet of the

bridge of a song
you are made of that thing
That unbreakable note
That photograph of you at five years old,
the year you ran away from school,
because you wanted to go home.
You are almost there.
You are the same compass you have always been
You are the same friend who never left my side
during my worst year
You caught every tantrum I threw
with your bare hands
chucked it back at that blood moon
said “it’s okay, everyone’s survival looks a little bit like death sometimes.”

Andrea Gibson, Angels of the Get Through