1. If you were granted one wish, what would it be?

To have complete faith and optimism in the world. Whatever is going to happen should happen, but it would be nice to be able to want God's plan and to trust in it fully.

Changed

When we first moved into this apartment, I was in fifth grade. Our neighbors brought over spaghetti and for the first time, I felt the warmth of community. My room faced the hills and the sunshine. In the summer, the sun pierced my window with so much force that it was impossible to see anything- the white walls reflected the light. If I left the door open and looked in from the hallway, I could see the sunlight spilling from the frame.

This was home. My parents allowed me to pierce the walls with tacks so that I could put pictures up. In all of the other apartments, I'd have to use tape- "we're moving soon and we don't want to have to fix the walls," they'd say. This place has felt my presence. The carpet is worn from our furniture, and the window has been replaced as a result of my anger. This isn't the first time that I've had to leave home, and this is definitely the shortest distance that I have ever gone. I have a second home now anyway, on campus, where I live with 52 amazing UCI students, but that doesn't stop me from being nostalgic tonight. My heart is heavy with memories, and the floor is packed with boxes.

Here's to moving on. Again.

Blessed

As a Christian, I have nevertheless always been reluctant to give myself over to the grace of God, or to accept any surrender of power. He, after all, has to look over the whole world. How can I trust Him to notice me among all of the troubles that He must help others through? Besides, I was reminded of the one time that I depended upon Him. I was a third-year in highschool and the guy I had been dating for over a year- a Christian- had turned to drugs and alcohol, and was using them in excess in order to deal with his depression. He was attempting to fill a void with substance, not with God, and I prayed constantly for God to heal him. I gave up all power and lived through blind faith that he was going to be okay. I would close my eyes and pray for this storm to go away. But every time I'd open my eyes again, I would be nauseated by the horror of what I saw. With each month, he got sicker. He ran away from home and rehab. He cheated on me- with a girl he met at church, and with some of my closest friends. He pushed me physically and I was completely at loss of what to do. My relationship with my parents, who hated him, was severed. My confidence was shot. I had this poisonous person ruling over my life- and my relationship with God.

Let's take a break from my story to consider how many young women are trapped in the same cycle of prayer and dependence on the Lord for blind salvation. I'm sure anyone can relate- maybe not the the same extreme, but we have all been pressured to act and we have all wanted to save those that we had strong feelings for. Through the whole thing, I prayed for God to act. And through the whole year, I was angry because He didn't. That boy sent me a message on facebook last January. "Life still sucks." He had been to rehab again, and it didn't help. Again.

So where was God in this storm? He was with me. He didn't work as I had expected Him to. He didn't cleanse my ex-boyfriend from the pain that he was dealing with, nor did He make it too much easier on any of us. But then, when my friends were dealing with addictions or sexual abuse or bad relationships or even the death of loved ones due to substance abuse, I could be a light for them in helping them overcome the pain, since I could relate and I have since been healed by allowing God into my heart. Even my friends who aren't Christian have benefited from the calmness that a Christian heart can bring into a situation.

God didn't help the boy, because he never allowed Him to enter into his heart. His soul was too consumed by drugs, and they leave no room for thought or personal growth. While I have matured, he has remained the same- living only for the next thrill. The experience has been painful for me, but it is a way for me to see that now, I am blessed. God watches over His daughters like a Father who believes that we can be trusted to make the right choice- and although I made so many wrong ones, once I finally gave up control of the situation, left my ex, and committed myself to healing through God, my life became beautiful. Mine is just one of many stories, and the process of healing hasn't been easy, but it has been steady and guided by the Lord.

New Year Nostalgia

When I was younger, the New Year was a time of magic. There was something sacred about that deepest part of the night, when the sky was black save for homemade fireworks, and the brilliant mass of stars that glittered brightly enough to challenge the snow ten floors bellow my apartment. As I grew up, hours became less and less mysterious until the whole night became tried and tired, explored. I came home at midnight, then one, then four, then five, then suddenly there was no more night, it was the same as day and morning and afternoon, only with less light.

But then much of the magic of childhood is gone, and every New Year's Eve I can't help but remember all the times we hid under bedframes to hide from thunderstorms while the older kids battled them by tossing flour from the balcony into the rain. Or the evening swims in the river, when everybody from the town came to seek refuge from the daily summer heat, when everybody was only an unfamiliar shadow with a familiar voice, and a common tone of happiness. I miss the birches, and how the wind tangled their leaves with the same warm touch that it spun through our hair. Every New Year's Eve I miss the Russia that I remember.

I remember a country that wasn't political. My only political association then was thinking that Yeltsin looked like a fat pig and I didn't like him for that. My other political association was that I knew, somehow, that Clinton had oral with some chick whose name sounded complicated and foreign. I thought that meant they brushed their teeth together and I didn't understand why Americans were so upset.

I remember a country in which it was okay to stop by a neighbor's house to ask them for iodine when one of us fell from trying to jump between the garage roofs. I remember a country in which alcoholism was just a brief example of something you should never do. I remember a country of love, strength, and support. But what I remember is through the eyes of a child, and I wish I still had that sort of vision.

I remember a particular night. We left our tiny apartment, just the three of us, and played in the snow so long that I thought I could see the age melt from my parents' faces as they laughed. Then people gathered in the snowy field, as if meeting to see a miracle happen. They were people we didn't know, but the simple act of sending off a tired old year in exchange for a new one made them friends. We lit fireworks and the whole sky was aflame with color. People shouted, embraced, and celebrated another year gone by. It was as if everyone saw the moment with eyes of children- they saw friends in strangers, they saw the majesty of the night, and the sacredness of companionship. I knew in that moment that God was watching His world, and I felt His grace in a way that I could never relate, but that moment of peace was the best proof in the divine.

I wonder, if I was in Russia once more, if that moment could happen again, but I doubt it. Russia has grown up with me, loosing its integrity for worldly callousness. Or maybe it's just me. Still, as I am about to face a new year without any reverence for the night or any true feeling of renewal, I pray that those moments can be repeated even in this new world that we have created. I pray for honesty, for bravery, for companionship, for faith, and for joy. And I pray that we learn to see the world in a way that we all knew, although perhaps a very long time ago.

Happy New Year.

Translation: 1

Александр Пушкин

Я вас любил: любовь ещё, быть может,

В душе моей угасла не совсем;

Но пусть она вас больше не тревожит;

Я не хочу печалить вас ничем.

Я вас любил безмолвно, безнадежно,

То робостью, то ревностью томим;

Я вяс любил так искренно, так нежно,

Как дай вам бог любимой быть другим.

I did love thee, and love, although but maybe

Within my soul has not extinguished itself yet;

But let it not distress thee any further;

I would not wish to ever cause thee grief.

I loved thee silently, without a cause for hoping,

Consumed by shyness, and by jealousy sometimes;

I loved so violently, so gently

As god may grant thee to be loved again.

10.

"Truth is one, sages speak of it by many names."

-Rig Vedas

9.

"Myths are public dreams; a dream is a public myth."

-Joseph Campbell