As
my first year of college is nearing the end, there are two things I want to
reflect on: my room and my roommate. The Lord used Amelia and the 405 in ways I
would never have imagined.
To
clarify, the only reason my room has been so awesome is because of Amelia
(well, the Lord through Amelia). Without her, the 405 is just another dorm
room. Maybe this post is a little premature since I don’t mean this to be a
goodbye; we still have a month left. Gosh…just a month. Oh, how time flies.
You
might be thinking, “Ok, so what’s so great about the 405? And what makes your
roommate so special?”
It’s
going to be hard to put words to the incredible experiences I’ve had in this
room with this girl. There have been loads of laughter, several rap / dance
parties, many prayers lifted aloud, and a few occasions of weeping. (More to
come on the weeping session later).
When
I first met my roommate, I must admit, I was quite intimidated. I had just
unloaded most of my things, chatting with my parents and my sister, when this freakin’
supermodel just saunters into the room. Blonde hair effortlessly bouncing
behind her with an enormous grin on her face, she just flew in looking
completely confident. I wouldn’t be surprised if my mouth dropped. I suddenly
felt like such a child as I saw this girl – no, woman – walk in our new room
with all the confidence and poise in the world.
Of
course, thinking back on that day now, I can’t help but laugh. Not because
Amelia isn’t confident and beautiful,
but because I know so much more about her now (and know so much more about
myself). I now know all about her goofiness, her ability to make raps on the
spot, her love of lounging around in her fluffy, white robe, her love of poetry
and words, her incredible admiration for the Lord, and her obsession with
conquering new yoga poses.
Amelia
introduced me to a whole other world that I had never really experienced
before. She taught me how to live. I
had grown up in an atmosphere that was so focused on the future (not that
that’s a bad thing). I grew up in a routine, doing what I was told, doing my
best in school, determined to get A’s, resolute to be a leader in whatever
capacity I could be, and being a “good kid”. There were expectations, and I
followed them without question.
Again,
I’m not saying any of these things are bad. Because of the love and stable environment
I grew up in, I think I’m better off for it. But, I was living by routine, by
principle, by structure. Spontaneity was never my strong suit – that was always
someone else’s forte.
And
then came Amelia.
She
asks that hard questions that most people wonder but never dare to voice. She
so appreciates the little things: the beautiful, natural light that pours in
our room that must be captured with her
camera. The simple but lovely melody that pops in her head, so she sprints to
the piano at the end of the hall to experiment with it. The flowers she finds
on the side of the road that she brings back to our windowsill. The poem she
stumbled upon, the song she heard, the chocolate she ate, the discussion she
had, or the perfume she smelled. All these things she’s experienced and shared,
whether she realizes it or not, have given me glimpses of the Lord’s goodness. The
Lord now shows up in places I never would’ve expected.
We
have also developed such an incredible system of servant hood. When I’m having
a chaotic day, she’ll make my bed. When she’s discouraged, I’ll write her a
sweet note. When we’re both getting angsty, we’ll both immediately grab the
vacuum or the antibacterial wipes and clean the room. When someone needs a
break, we’ll give each other back massages. My personal favorite: when we are
in need of prayer, we’ll pray for each other aloud, right then and there, because
why wait?
 |
| Our view from the 405 |
There
have been several pivotal moments in Amelia and I’s relationship, perhaps the
most significant one being when we first wept together. You’d be surprised just
how powerful sorrow can be for two roommates.
About
a month ago, Amelia and I faced one of the “hell” weeks of the year. It was a Monday
(which is already bad enough, am I right?), and Amelia had just returned from a
wretched weekend. I received news that morning that one of my family members
was most likely going to die that week. I was in my room alone, and I collapsed
onto the floor, sobbing. After a couple of minutes of that, I was overcome with exhaustion, so like the good college
student I am, I took a nap. About an hour later, I woke up to the sound of my
beloved roommate crying herself. Without even opening my eyes, I could hear her
heart breaking. I quietly said, “Amelia?” She turned, surprised, and chuckled a
little from the fact she had no idea I was even there. I got up from my bed and
hugged her. She told her story, and I told mine. Still embracing one another,
we collapsed on the floor together, sobbing, unwilling to let the other go. We
cried out to the Lord, tears streaming down our faces. We begged the Lord for
peace, for wisdom, for comfort, and for the strength to make it through the unbearable
week that was awaiting us.
After
wearily saying “Amen,” we looked at each other and of course, busted out
laughing; we were quite a sight to see. We laughed at our pitiful blotchy,
tear-stained faces. We picked each other up, and moved forward.
I
tell you that story because it’s one that I will never forget. How could I? It
was such a God-moment, where we were literally shaking because we were so
overcome with sorrow and desperation. Yet, we held each other, literally, and
called upon the Lord with every fiber of our being.
But
the Lord didn’t just show up in the 405 when we were at rock bottom. He was
there in the late-night stories, the coffee drinking, the chocolate eating, the
C.S. Lewis reading, the Beyoncé belting, the sleeping, the waking, the weeping,
and the laughing. He’s been there every step of the way, and looking back, it’s
ridiculous to ever doubt otherwise.
I
almost feel as though writing this post is in vain, for I am inadequate to
completely convey the magic that has happened in this place. I am at a loss to
properly show my love and admiration for Amelia – the Lord has used her, as
cheesy as it sounds, to change my life. She has shown me the vastness of the
Lord’s wisdom and beauty of His creativity. Because of Amelia, I know and love
the Lord more. Because of Amelia, I know how to better love others. Because of
Amelia, I have a better idea of what it means to really live.
