On Being 25

I turned 25 a week ago and it has been a whirlwind ever since. I had a wonderful time celebrating my birthday, but I was also in the midst of packing, cleaning, and saying farewell to all of my new friends in Washington, DC. On Sunday I completed my year long internship at a Lutheran congregation in Washington, DC. I was so busy that I kind of didn't even get a chance to reflect on what being 25 was like. Today I got the chance to reflect.


I am currently in Gloucester, MA on vacation. I took the Megabus from Washington, DC to Boston, MA. Then I took the "T', Boston's Public Transportation. I had to transfer trains once and then I had to board the commuter train that would take me to Gloucester. After arriving at the station in Gloucester I had to hail a taxi to take me to the house I would be staying at. So, I left my house at 7:30AM on Monday and arrived at the house in Gloucester at 9:30PM. It was a crazy day of traveling, but worth it. It was dark when I arrived so I had to wait until morning to see the beauty of this place. It was totally worth the wait. It is so serene. I can see the ocean from the window of the house and spend most of my time sitting at the kitchen table watching the waves crash into the rocks.

So how is being 25 different than being 24?

• At 24 I didn't know anything about public transportation. At 25 I trusted myself to figure out a new public transportation system in Boston.
• At 24 I never would have vacationed by myself. At 25 I am vacationing by myself and loving it (except that I don't have anyone to take my picture).
• At 24 I struggled to eat dinner without some other form of entertainment. At 25 I am content to eat and not turn on the television or surf the internet.
• At 24 I didn't really like the way I looked in a swimsuit. At 25 I look a lot better than I did last year.
• At 24 I had never lived alone without the instant community of college or seminary. At 25 I can say I survived living alone for an entire year.
  
• At 24 I couldn't rent a car without paying an arm and a leg of overage fees. At 25 I can rent a car without the extra fees.
• At 24 I would have an occasional drink at Starbucks. At 25 I am a Gold Club member (not sure I should be proud of that).
• At 24...well I was 24. At 25...now I am 25.

Here's to a wonderful year of being 25 and loving every minute of it!

A Quarter Of A Century

Today I am 25 years old, a quarter of a century. My 24th year of life was a great year. I have lived alone in the big city for a whole year. I have mastered public transportation. I have carried pepper spray. I have had my credit card stolen. I have had someone try to break into my house. I have walked more than ever before. I have completed a 5K walk. I have cooked almost all of my own meals. I have made more money than ever before. I have done a ton of sight seeing in the big city. I have learned a lot. I have been strengthened in my call to ministry. All of those are great things to celebrate.


However, today I am really celebrating something else. I am celebrating weight loss and health. In the past year I have lost over forty pounds. I am feeling so much better and am excited about continuing to become more healthy. My initial goal was to lose fifty pounds in one year before my 25th birthday, that would be two pounds for every year that I am old. I didn't quite make it, but I am so close that I can smell it. Take a look at the difference between these two photos, taken about a year apart. And even though I didn't meet my goal, I am so proud of myself. I have lost two to three sizes and shrunk out of between twenty and thirty pairs of pants. That, my friends, is a great accomplishment! Now it is time to set my goal for my 25th year. In the next year I hope to lose one pound for every year of my life, so 25 pounds by July 20, 2012. Here's to being 25!

What is in a name?

I have a name. My name is Cassandra. I have lots of other titles and hats that I wear. I am a daughter. I am a granddaughter. I am a sister. I am a friend. I am a South Dakotan. I am a seminarian. I am a graduate student. I am a child of God. Yet, in all of these situations I am still Cassandra.

Those of you who know me well know that I do not like titles. I am not someone who wants to eventually be called "Pastor Lamb." Sometimes I don't even want to be called "Pastor Cassandra." I am reminded more and more why I don't like these titles. These titles are easily shortened. Instead of having a name your name becomes "Pastor."

For this year of internship my title is "Vicar." Some people call me "Vicar Lamb." Others call me "Vicar Cassandra." And some people even call me "Cassandra." Yet my title is easily shortened and very quickly my name becomes "Vicar." It is not people's fault that they shorten my name like this. It is very easily done.

The other day I was at work and got a phone call. I should have known they were a telemarketer when they asked for "Vigar." I corrected them and explained that my name is "Cassandra" and I am the "Vicar" at this congregation.

My parent's gave me a name at my birth. Now there is no real story or reasoning behind my name. Yet, it is still my name. And, quite frankly, I like my name. It is unique. It is hard to spell. Sometimes it is even mispronounced. However, mispronunciation and misspelling bother me a whole lot less than losing my name all together. I have a name. My name is Cassandra.

A Heavy Heart

There are several different blog posts that are on my mind, because I have some catching up to do. Yet, this one I can't stop thinking about.

I have a heavy heart. Death does that to me. I think death does that to a lot of people. This past weekend my brother's college roommate died. A 22 year old whose life was ended far too early. Yes, I knew this young man. We went to the same school when we were growing up, but we were not close friends or anything. Regardless, this hits close to home. This impacts my brother. This impacts my community. And this impacts me.

And I just can't seem to shake it. I think it is because each death brings up every other death I have ever experienced in my life. And even though I believe in the resurrection and eternal life it still isn't easy. Even though I am a candidate for ordained ministry in the church and I have a faith lens with which to view the situation of death, my heart is still heavy.

I can't help but think of these words from Third Day. "To everyone who's lost someone they love, long before it was their time. You feel like the days you had were not enough, when you said goodbye." -- "Cry out to Jesus." That is what I am doing this night. Me and my heavy heart, we, are crying out to Jesus.