Okay. So over the last couple days, something’s clicked into place in my head, thus a Tali ramble.
It all started at Summer Workshop, with all the talk about Rivendell. To rattle off some of Mr. Wilson’s bullet points, Rivendell is a place to rest, a place of safety, healing, a place to get wise counsel and advice, a place of fellowship and gaining companions for the journey, a place where you come out of the darkness and into the light.
I know a lot of people came away thinking of SW as their Rivendell. And it is a Rivendell. But a part of me still thought “...Okay. What now? This is all great, but where do I go from here?” SW made a huge impact on me, but I wasn’t sure how to take everything that had happened, everything I learned, and actually go out and make a difference in Mordor.
Fast forward a few days. Maaajor workshop feels had finally set in. While in the midst of that, a friend sent me the song ‘Silhouette’ by Owl City, saying it was full of SW feels. Oh, man. Yeah. It was. I wound up writing a whole feelsy ramble (think 1.2k) incorporating that song as the basis. The first half or so was pretty down-in-the-dumps. But the end, starting at the bridge... it took a hopeful turn which I didn’t see coming.
----------
But all the fear. All the pain. All the loneliness. It’ll be worth it.
//'cause I walk alone, no matter where I go//
This road to Mordor rips your heart out. It leaves you in tears. Takes your emotions and turns them inside out until you can hardly feel at all. It hurts. It’s hard.
//'cause I walk alone, no matter where I go//
But it’ll be worth it. Someday. Someday...
//'cause I walk alone, no matter where I go//
Someday it’ll be worth it. Someday when we’re past all the tears, the fears, the pain, the emptiness.
//I'm a silhouette asking every now and then (now and then)//
Someday when all questions are answered. When we can look back and see how the mountains and valleys, how they shaped us, changed us for the better.
//"Is it over yet? Will I ever love again?"//
Someday when we can look back and see how, yes, we made a difference. We planted flowers along the rocky road. We lit candles in the darkness. We brought hope, however small, into Mordor. Someday we’ll look back and see.
//I'm a silhouette chasing rainbows on my own//
Right now it feels like the shadow lands will never end. Like Mordor is winning. But we know that in the end, light will conquer.
//but the more I try to move on, the more I feel alone//
And then. Then we’ll reunite. The band of weary warriors. We’ll find our way back home.
//so I watch the summer stars to lead me home//
And there, it’ll finally be worth it. There, we’ll finally find rest. There, we’ll finally be Home.
//I watch the summer stars to lead me home//
----------
And I ended up clinging to that for the next several days, as the hope that this journey through Mordor would be worth it. It. Will. Be. Worth. It.
But still, even that... Even though it took a turn upwards, it was still just an emotional ramble. It added to the SW Rivendell stuff, in that when we leave, we go out into Mordor to make a difference. Also in that while we’re leaving Rivendell now, we will come back home in the end.
But it still hadn’t come all together.
Insert in here the fact that I’ve had Ordinary Heroes on repeat basically since workshop. And here, have the chorus, ‘cause it’s important in a minute. “We're the army of ordinary heroes, winning hearts and minds for the King of all kings, gauntlet runners who never back down from whatever this world brings ‘cause we know who we fight for and that’s all we need.” And from a variation of the chorus, “We all run in the dark, but we’re running toward the light, ‘cause it’s the light we bring.” Braden’s words are beautiful, yes? I love this song so much, but the full meaning of the lyrics still hadn’t hit me yet.
Fast forward a few more days, to two Sundays ago, at the evening service. I was able to cope well enough by then to not have workshop and missing home constantly on my mind.
The sermon was on Christ being the door. Not incredibly related to all this, no. But among the points that the guy made, one was that we Christians so often have all these spiritual experiences, come sit in services, worship... but it doesn’t change us. And he said something along the lines of that Christ is the door to communion with God, but it’s not only a door going in. It’s a door going out too. Once we’ve experienced God’s light, we need to go spread it. When we know God, we have a greater responsibility to help others know.
And something clicked. It hit me that that’s another sort of Rivendell. We recharge with Jesus and then go change the world. That’s the -point-. That’s (in part) why we spend time with him, why we get to know him, so that we can go help others know him.
Fast forward again to last Saturday night. Jessie and I were spazzing about wanting to change the world, start a revolution, bring light to the world, change lives. And we were both really pumped about our respective dreams, visions for the future, what we wanted to do to make a difference.
After all that spazzingness, I went down to my room and turned on music. Josh Wilson, one of his new songs, ‘Pushing Back the Dark’. (The fact that I wound up on that song is a testimony in itself, but I’ll spare you, because this is already way too long.) If you don’t know that song, listen to it (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=co2gthaWVrQ), or at least read the lyrics. I’ve got some of the most relevant parts here below, but the entire thing is fantastic and applies here.
“One million reasons why you shouldn’t even try
After all, you’re just one heart, a single candle in the dark
And there are shadows here, feeding on your fears
That you don’t have what it takes, who are you to make a change?
But oh, oh, don’t underestimate the God you follow
Whatever you do, just don’t look back
Somebody needs the light you have
Whatever you do, just don’t lose heart
Keep on pushing back the dark
[...]
Let your light so shine, let your light so shine
Oh, oh, don’t underestimate the God you follow
He is the light that burns inside your soul
So keep on shining ‘til the whole world knows”
I’ve loved this song ever since first hearing it, but the whole “pushing back the dark” thing... I guess I was under the impression it meant pushing back darkness inside yourself... darkness maybe being discouragement or feelings that what you were doing didn’t matter. Maybe the song meant pushing through that to keep on making a difference. And I suppose that could be part of it, but after all of the above stuff on Rivendell and Mordor and changing lives... It clicked. It all clicked. Mordor is the darkness. We’re pushing back the darkness -surrounding- us, not within us. (Maybe that should have been obvious, but I dunno, it just got in my head the wrong way.)
After everything clicked with ‘Pushing Back the Dark’ and I had a nice long cry/praise session, I went to do my scripture study. At this point it was like one or two AM, but y’know. Anyway, I was reading in John, and it was in the context of Jesus leaving and the disciples having to deal with the world and everything and Jesus says something about sending the Spirit to be a Comforter. Anyway, in all that, there were these three verses.
John 16:22 "And ye now therefore have sorrow; but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you."
John 16:32-33, "Behold, the hour cometh, yea, is now come, that ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone; and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me. These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world."
And I was just like... Mordor. It’s talking about Mordor. The world. Sorrow. Darkness. Tribulation. That’s Mordor. But we have Christ's joy and peace, and even in the midst of all the darkness we can have faith that light will win, light will overcome, it has overcome!
Then Sunday morning, a hymn we sang at church, ‘The Old, Old Path’. Again, with all the above stuff on my mind, it hit me differently than ever before.
Bits of it... “There’s an old, old path where the sun shines through life’s dark storm clouds from its home of blue [...] In this old, old path made strangely sweet by the touch divine of His blessed feet [...] ‘Tis an old, old path, shadowed vales between, yet I fearless walk with the Nazarene”
Storm clouds. Shadows. It’s talking about Mordor again. But it’s sweet, it’s strangely sweet. It’s an old, rocky, rugged path... But it’s sweet. We can be fearless ordinary heroes, even walking along on this path through Mordor, because He walks with us.
One more piece to the puzzle.
Last night, there was another sermon, pretty much unrelated to all of this. But a point the preacher made, even though it’s fairly disconnected, made the last bit click into place.
You know the part where Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love me? Do you love me more than -everything-?” And Peter says yes. Then Jesus says, “Then feed my lambs.”
(You’re probably all like, “Tali, this has nothing to do with it, this ramble’s two thousand words long, shut up already.” I promise I’m almost done.)
It made the last piece click into place because -that- is the motivation. We aren’t doing all this because we want to suffer through the pains of Mordor. We aren’t doing this to be able to say “Look at all the good things I’m doing to get rid of Satan!” and get a pat on the back for our courage and godliness (at least, hopefully not).
We’re doing it because we love Him.
We love Him, so we serve him.
His peace and joy are in us through the Spirit, the Comforter.
And His perfect love is in us.
His love is the light within us.
And frankly, that’s the only way we -can- bring light into Mordor. If the Light shines through us.
To be perfectly honest, Mordor isn’t going to like us. I’ll spare you the additional 200+ words that actually putting in the scripture would give, but look up John 17:14-26. The world will hate us. But we have been commissioned to show forth God’s love, that the world may know him.
And by His power, we can have strength and courage to go out into Mordor.
Through Him, we can bring light. Start a revolution. Change the world.
Through Him, we can walk the old, rocky, rugged path, because we know He’s at our side, and that makes it all so, so sweet.
Through Him, we can keep pushing back the dark, keep fighting, keep on letting our candles shine with His light.
Through Him, we will have endless peace and joy and love.
Through Him, we can walk fearlessly, because we know that Light will overcome.
Through Him, we can be ordinary heroes. Winning hearts and minds for the King of all kings. Gauntlet runners who never back down from whatever this world brings.
~Jessica T/Talitha
Tuesday, 9 July 2013
Sunday, 7 July 2013
Much Love from Mb:
I miss seeing Charlotte's and Danaka's face, the fact that Linnea and Marissa would always say that I'm pretty and that they love me, sitting in the FHL lounge in the dorms talking to Kate and Ashlynne, sitting under Naomi's bed and squealing in the wee hours of the morning, meeting my gold fish twinzie, meeting some of the oldies that scared me so badly, but now I look up to them even more.
Speaking to Mr. and Mrs. S personally for at least five minutes. Getting to talk to Mr. Gerke after his session and talking to Miss Jill in the cafeteria.
Filming with Leinad, Jeremy, Jonathan, with the help of Sarah and Samantha ruining her lip gloss for us. Meeting Hillary and Jessica and getting to hug them.
Listening to Becka, Lenny(;)) and Gunnar play guitars. Being able to play also and laugh.
Meeting my Mommy and holding prayer groups... Meeting my big brothers and spending a lot of time with them.
If I could, I'd name every single person I met... But alas, it'd take a month to read through that post... You all mean the world to me, know that. I love y'all. ♥
Speaking to Mr. and Mrs. S personally for at least five minutes. Getting to talk to Mr. Gerke after his session and talking to Miss Jill in the cafeteria.
Filming with Leinad, Jeremy, Jonathan, with the help of Sarah and Samantha ruining her lip gloss for us. Meeting Hillary and Jessica and getting to hug them.
Listening to Becka, Lenny(;)) and Gunnar play guitars. Being able to play also and laugh.
Meeting my Mommy and holding prayer groups... Meeting my big brothers and spending a lot of time with them.
If I could, I'd name every single person I met... But alas, it'd take a month to read through that post... You all mean the world to me, know that. I love y'all. ♥
Wednesday, 3 July 2013
Cherished by Christina:
This year I decided to post a SW topic. I’m not sure why since by the end of this I know I’ll be in tears rocking back and forth on my chair, but I need to get all my feelz out.
This year’s experience was really amazing. We had Jill as a speaker. Jeff came back. Mr. S. and Mrs. S(need I say more?). Everyone was applauded for drinking out of their cup. Meeting people who I’ve been dying to meet for years. OYANer hugs(which are the best). JJ glomps(Which I volunteered for xD). Awesome stories and ideas. Late night chats about anything and everything (including awkward things xD). People introducing me to fandoms and then tell me spoilers(not that I’ll name those people *coughcough* SophiaCollinandothers *coughcough*). The unofficial OYAN sport of ninja. Qudditch. Many, many fandoms and crossovers. Sock monkeys. Costumes. And critique groups. Oh my! But we’re not in Kansas anymore. (Lame joke, I know. I’m still catching up on sleep. xP)
So, uh, the SW was awesome and we’re all Ordinary Heroes. *insert all the philosophical things and stuffz I’m not good at saying*.
And I can’t think of anything else to say so I’ll just tell all y’all individually. (No, saying my y’all and all y’all is cute unless you can hear or see me. *coughcough* Sophia and Sarah *coughcough*)
Alyssa/Thimble
Spoiler
I know you don’t get on much, but I wanna say you are awesome and amazing. Everytime I see you I’m so glad that you were my first sister. I love all of your charries(yes, one in particular more than the others. xD (Love you Piskus! <3) ). I really hope we can get together when we come out to California. I miss you SO much already! Love you sis!
Michaela/Haiku
Spoiler
It was great hanging out with you! You’re such a sweet person!! I really hope we can see each other again sometime. Maybe when I go out to California in December. ^.^
Sian/Queen Jane by God’s Grace
Spoiler
You are so amazing and beautiful and lots of other things. I miss you dearly already. I loved being a part of your chain that ran around the lobby. Of course, I love being your sister and couldn’t imagine a WS without you. I pray that you can come out to TX later this year. *hugs* I love and miss you, my dear sister. <3
Sophia/Whispering_Shadow
Spoiler
WHISPY!!!! WE FINALLY MET!!!! You are so much more awesome in person, my Converse-loving sis. Thank. You. For. Introducing. Me. To. MORE. Fandoms. That. I must. Watch. Be warned that you will be my fangirl person. We shall Google talk, chat, PM, Google Hangout, and hopefully Skype about these awesome new shows. *nodnod* And no more spoilers! Except for Rose. You can give me that one. Please?? *puppydog eyes* At least tell me what series and episode she comes back in! Oh and you must send me more of your stories that you need to write. xP And don’t forget to send me that Chance and Jack fanfic about being drinking buddies. I loved our late night talks in the lounge and your room. Y’all finally got me to drabble! I miss you so much already.
(Cam told me to tell you that she says hi to Raymond and she looks forward to going shopping with him sometime.)
Susan/Agent Whale
Spoiler
AW!! We finally got to meet after not realizing/not knowing who you were at the SW two years ago!!!! It was so amazing to meet you. You’re so sweet and amazing. I loved sitting net to you and your sister during the sessions and at meals(and I’m sure y’all enjoyed my rambling on and on about nothing in particular that morning after I got no sleep. xP). I really, really miss you so much already. We need to talk more. I have Google chat, and can do skype or hangouts. Oh and I’m almost done with your critique. ^^ Love you, sis!
(And Ava says to tell Jaykeb she loves him. Rose says to tell Oaden she loves him.)
Sarah/Figgy Figment
Spoiler
It was great to see you again! You’re such a great little sister. It was awesome sitting with you in sessions and for meals and hanging out. I really hope I’ll get up there sometime and a group of us can go out for lunch or dinner. I wish I could take you up on that offer to move up there and live in your house while I go to college. xD But it’s a little far. *hugs* I miss you so much and love you even more, sis. <3
(Lillie says for you to tell Alex she misses him and wants to see him.)
Karina/Quillmaster
Spoiler
You’re so awesome and cute! I love your stories. (I really wish I could have been there that first day when you read your Loki fanfic. xD) I really enjoyed staying up and having those late night talks mixed in with looking at Pinterest and Tumblr.
Collin/Thirteen
Spoiler
It was awesome to meet you! I can’t wait to meet Chance cause he just sounds... hilarious and awesome. I loved staying up until morning hours talking about nothing and anything we could think of (including the awkward subjects xD). I shall now start watching Supernatural and My Little Pony and I’ll probably start spamming your page with fangirl messages. Just be warned now. Oh and no more spoilers! xP
Samantha/Samantha:)
Spoiler
Sam!! It was great to meet you finally!! You’re so awesome and pretty in person! I really hope we can meet again sometime! We need to talk more. *nodnod* If you want you can text me.
Jacie
Spoiler
Jacie!! Hi!! I loved meeting you! It was awesome to get to hang out with you and just talk. ^-^ Which we need to talk more! I’m on Facebook, Google talk/hangouts, Skype, and email. Oh and I have unlimited texting!
(Nicki, Tanner, and Nic all miss their loves. Aere... Misses Drake.
Aere: *glares at both of us* If you value your life you better not dare to even think about telling him.)
“Those” Calabashes
Spoiler
Hey y’all! So I just wanted to say that y’all were an awesome group. Jared, I love how you moved us out into the hall after only one day since we couldn’t keep from laughing. xD We were definitely ‘that’ group. I loved all of your stories and can’t wait to finish reading them(in order ).
The S’s
Spoiler
Thank y’all so much for everything you do. I can’t tell you how much the OYAN curriculum has changed my life. Not to mention the forum and the SWs. I’ve made so made friendships that I can’t even count and each and every one of them is special. Thank you so much for everything. I can’t wait to see you again at the WW. <3
That’s everyone I can think of right now. If I missed you, I‘m sorry and I loved meeting you and hanging out with you too! (Really I loved meeting everyone. OYANers are the best to hang out with.)
While it IS nice to not have to eat cafeteria food and to have my own bathroom I would so much rather be back at the university with all of you. But for now it’s back to my boring life with no one to fangirl or write with. I miss all y’all so much and love y’all even more.
From one of my favorite songs ‘The Call’ by Regina Spektor (The one that GG95 and Leinad sang that made me tear up):
“Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
Til they're before your eyes
You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say good bye.”
Until the WW or the next SW,
Christina/Music=Life
This year’s experience was really amazing. We had Jill as a speaker. Jeff came back. Mr. S. and Mrs. S(need I say more?). Everyone was applauded for drinking out of their cup. Meeting people who I’ve been dying to meet for years. OYANer hugs(which are the best). JJ glomps(Which I volunteered for xD). Awesome stories and ideas. Late night chats about anything and everything (including awkward things xD). People introducing me to fandoms and then tell me spoilers(not that I’ll name those people *coughcough* SophiaCollinandothers *coughcough*). The unofficial OYAN sport of ninja. Qudditch. Many, many fandoms and crossovers. Sock monkeys. Costumes. And critique groups. Oh my! But we’re not in Kansas anymore. (Lame joke, I know. I’m still catching up on sleep. xP)
So, uh, the SW was awesome and we’re all Ordinary Heroes. *insert all the philosophical things and stuffz I’m not good at saying*.
And I can’t think of anything else to say so I’ll just tell all y’all individually. (No, saying my y’all and all y’all is cute unless you can hear or see me. *coughcough* Sophia and Sarah *coughcough*)
Alyssa/Thimble
Spoiler
I know you don’t get on much, but I wanna say you are awesome and amazing. Everytime I see you I’m so glad that you were my first sister. I love all of your charries(yes, one in particular more than the others. xD (Love you Piskus! <3) ). I really hope we can get together when we come out to California. I miss you SO much already! Love you sis!
Michaela/Haiku
Spoiler
It was great hanging out with you! You’re such a sweet person!! I really hope we can see each other again sometime. Maybe when I go out to California in December. ^.^
Sian/Queen Jane by God’s Grace
Spoiler
You are so amazing and beautiful and lots of other things. I miss you dearly already. I loved being a part of your chain that ran around the lobby. Of course, I love being your sister and couldn’t imagine a WS without you. I pray that you can come out to TX later this year. *hugs* I love and miss you, my dear sister. <3
Sophia/Whispering_Shadow
Spoiler
WHISPY!!!! WE FINALLY MET!!!! You are so much more awesome in person, my Converse-loving sis. Thank. You. For. Introducing. Me. To. MORE. Fandoms. That. I must. Watch. Be warned that you will be my fangirl person. We shall Google talk, chat, PM, Google Hangout, and hopefully Skype about these awesome new shows. *nodnod* And no more spoilers! Except for Rose. You can give me that one. Please?? *puppydog eyes* At least tell me what series and episode she comes back in! Oh and you must send me more of your stories that you need to write. xP And don’t forget to send me that Chance and Jack fanfic about being drinking buddies. I loved our late night talks in the lounge and your room. Y’all finally got me to drabble! I miss you so much already.
(Cam told me to tell you that she says hi to Raymond and she looks forward to going shopping with him sometime.)
Susan/Agent Whale
Spoiler
AW!! We finally got to meet after not realizing/not knowing who you were at the SW two years ago!!!! It was so amazing to meet you. You’re so sweet and amazing. I loved sitting net to you and your sister during the sessions and at meals(and I’m sure y’all enjoyed my rambling on and on about nothing in particular that morning after I got no sleep. xP). I really, really miss you so much already. We need to talk more. I have Google chat, and can do skype or hangouts. Oh and I’m almost done with your critique. ^^ Love you, sis!
(And Ava says to tell Jaykeb she loves him. Rose says to tell Oaden she loves him.)
Sarah/Figgy Figment
Spoiler
It was great to see you again! You’re such a great little sister. It was awesome sitting with you in sessions and for meals and hanging out. I really hope I’ll get up there sometime and a group of us can go out for lunch or dinner. I wish I could take you up on that offer to move up there and live in your house while I go to college. xD But it’s a little far. *hugs* I miss you so much and love you even more, sis. <3
(Lillie says for you to tell Alex she misses him and wants to see him.)
Karina/Quillmaster
Spoiler
You’re so awesome and cute! I love your stories. (I really wish I could have been there that first day when you read your Loki fanfic. xD) I really enjoyed staying up and having those late night talks mixed in with looking at Pinterest and Tumblr.
Collin/Thirteen
Spoiler
It was awesome to meet you! I can’t wait to meet Chance cause he just sounds... hilarious and awesome. I loved staying up until morning hours talking about nothing and anything we could think of (including the awkward subjects xD). I shall now start watching Supernatural and My Little Pony and I’ll probably start spamming your page with fangirl messages. Just be warned now. Oh and no more spoilers! xP
Samantha/Samantha:)
Spoiler
Sam!! It was great to meet you finally!! You’re so awesome and pretty in person! I really hope we can meet again sometime! We need to talk more. *nodnod* If you want you can text me.
Jacie
Spoiler
Jacie!! Hi!! I loved meeting you! It was awesome to get to hang out with you and just talk. ^-^ Which we need to talk more! I’m on Facebook, Google talk/hangouts, Skype, and email. Oh and I have unlimited texting!
(Nicki, Tanner, and Nic all miss their loves. Aere... Misses Drake.
Aere: *glares at both of us* If you value your life you better not dare to even think about telling him.)
“Those” Calabashes
Spoiler
Hey y’all! So I just wanted to say that y’all were an awesome group. Jared, I love how you moved us out into the hall after only one day since we couldn’t keep from laughing. xD We were definitely ‘that’ group. I loved all of your stories and can’t wait to finish reading them(in order ).
The S’s
Spoiler
Thank y’all so much for everything you do. I can’t tell you how much the OYAN curriculum has changed my life. Not to mention the forum and the SWs. I’ve made so made friendships that I can’t even count and each and every one of them is special. Thank you so much for everything. I can’t wait to see you again at the WW. <3
That’s everyone I can think of right now. If I missed you, I‘m sorry and I loved meeting you and hanging out with you too! (Really I loved meeting everyone. OYANers are the best to hang out with.)
While it IS nice to not have to eat cafeteria food and to have my own bathroom I would so much rather be back at the university with all of you. But for now it’s back to my boring life with no one to fangirl or write with. I miss all y’all so much and love y’all even more.
From one of my favorite songs ‘The Call’ by Regina Spektor (The one that GG95 and Leinad sang that made me tear up):
“Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
Til they're before your eyes
You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say good bye.”
Until the WW or the next SW,
Christina/Music=Life
Silver from Syrena:
So now that I’m done wandering aimlessly around the house, I’m going to stare at my computer screen for awhile and try to put the Summer Workshop into words. Heh. Wish me luck.
I could say a lot of things about the Workshop. Most of them would be old clichés that you’ve heard before: “It’s amazing”, “It’s epic epicness”, “It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen or experienced”, etc, etc. All of those things are true. So if you didn’t go this year – come next year. Come someday. Every OYANer in the world should experience the feelz of going home. And I’m not just saying that. I believe it with all of my heart.
I know many of you are in the same place in your lives as I am right now. You’re different. You’re often ignored or alone because you’re “not like them”. You’re considered inferior, and your talents are largely disregarded by people in your life. You’re judged. You’re broken. You hurt, you cry, and you’re torn. Life is hard.
Stepping into the Bell Center on that first evening was like going home to a place I’d never been before. Everything I wrestled with; all the scars I carry and the cares that weigh on me eroded at the door. I’ve often tried to imagine what Frodo must have felt like upon reaching Rivendell for the first time. What would it be like to walk out of a fight in the darkness into a haven of light and peace?
I don’t wonder that anymore.
I learned so much this past week. More than I can possibly describe. So I won’t describe it. Not all of it. Trust me, you don’t want that much of Syrie’s rambling.
This week, I learned what it is to believe in something bigger than yourself. To believe in a hope or a dream that seems unattainable. This week, I saw a group of teens who came together because of shared passion, shared hope, and shared dreams. Dreams that they weren’t afraid to believe in.
All of the sessions at the SW were inspiring to me, but the one that sticks out the most in my memory is the talk Mr. S gave on Friday night regarding the Hobbit Holes he plans to build in Olathe. Now you’re probably thinking, “Well, duh. Syrie’s excited about Hobbit Holes.” And I am. But that’s not why it stuck out to me. Do you have any idea how much that would cost!?! Not like it’s free stuff or anything. And work? I imagine every able-bodied OYANer would volunteer for unpaid manual labor, but still….
That evening, Mr. S told us that this wasn’t just something he thought was cool, but impossible. It wasn’t something he only dreamed about, but never really planned on doing. No – it’s something he believes in. It’s something he’s not afraid to believe in. And that’s what I saw there. You people aren’t afraid to dream big. You’re not afraid to believe in the impossible. You’re not afraid.
The memories I have from the workshop are some of the most precious of my life. I’m taking all of the things I love about you guys, and locking them in a treasure box in my heart to keep forever. I’m telling the honest-to-goodness truth when I say that you are the best friends I’ve ever had. I mean, I seriously adore how I can wear a glittery prom dress, steampunk goggles, and flip flops around you, and you don’t call me weird, or laugh at me, or give me odd glances and tell me you don’t want to be my friend because I’m different. That may sound small, but it means the world to me.
Sometimes, life throws things at us. But we don’t always call them lemons and throw them back, or make lemonade. Sometimes we’re hit. And sometimes we cry when we’re hurt, and we break when we’re weak. That’s life, and it ain’t easy. And this week, I cried. (Yeah, I’m a girl, I cry a lot, okay? XP) But this week, I didn’t cry because I was angry. I didn’t cry because I was hurt, or weak, or near giving up. I cried because I loved something, and now it’s over. I cried because I have to wait a year to see my best friends again. To hear their voices; to hug them, and to laugh with them.
I honestly believe that OYAN is what it is because we believed. We’re hundreds and thousands of miles apart, and yet we believed that God could bring us together. We’re all different, and yet we believed in the love we had for each other, and we believed in each other’s dreams. And look what happened: We spent a week together – two-hundred or more of us – learning, giving, loving, healing, praying, and dreaming of hobbit holes and a library under a tree. (And getting free stuff. )
I have two homes, I realized. One is small-town Missouri, where my house is, and the other is Olathe, Kansas, where my heart is. After spending the week encouraging each other, helping each other, laughing about green fruits from the treeless forest, drawing on each other with sharpies, dressing up in crazy costumes, and singing random songs, my heart wanted to live there. (But with better food, of course. )
And then I grasped something else. Frodo couldn’t live in Rivendell forever. He had to complete his adventure, or what would’ve happened? There wouldn’t be a Rivendell anymore. There wouldn’t be anything left to believe in. Frodo was just an ordinary hero, and he didn’t always feel like going on. But he did. He was willing to live through the fires of Mordor because, somewhere deep down, he still believed.
So I’m sitting here now, with knowledge in my head, memories in my heart, and the names of the people I love scrawled across the back of my t-shirt in sharpie, and I’m believing. I’m believing in you all. I’m believing in your dreams, and I’m believing that God will bring us all back together next June in that hot, humid Bell Center parking lot. Because Rivendell wasn’t the end – it was just the beginning.
It takes a special kind of friendship to laugh together, and to cry together. To hurt together, and to heal together. It takes a special kind of friendship to believe together, and that’s why I love you all. You’re always there for me when I need someone to remind me that, “There’s still some good in this world, Syrie.” You’re the only people I know who I can make me smile when I’m crying. Just like right now.
So I’m going to spend the year writing, and dreaming, and living, and praying for each of you, because I love you, because I remember, and because I believe.
Keep smiling you guys, and I’ll see you next year. <3
~Syrie Leeland
I could say a lot of things about the Workshop. Most of them would be old clichés that you’ve heard before: “It’s amazing”, “It’s epic epicness”, “It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen or experienced”, etc, etc. All of those things are true. So if you didn’t go this year – come next year. Come someday. Every OYANer in the world should experience the feelz of going home. And I’m not just saying that. I believe it with all of my heart.
I know many of you are in the same place in your lives as I am right now. You’re different. You’re often ignored or alone because you’re “not like them”. You’re considered inferior, and your talents are largely disregarded by people in your life. You’re judged. You’re broken. You hurt, you cry, and you’re torn. Life is hard.
Stepping into the Bell Center on that first evening was like going home to a place I’d never been before. Everything I wrestled with; all the scars I carry and the cares that weigh on me eroded at the door. I’ve often tried to imagine what Frodo must have felt like upon reaching Rivendell for the first time. What would it be like to walk out of a fight in the darkness into a haven of light and peace?
I don’t wonder that anymore.
I learned so much this past week. More than I can possibly describe. So I won’t describe it. Not all of it. Trust me, you don’t want that much of Syrie’s rambling.
This week, I learned what it is to believe in something bigger than yourself. To believe in a hope or a dream that seems unattainable. This week, I saw a group of teens who came together because of shared passion, shared hope, and shared dreams. Dreams that they weren’t afraid to believe in.
All of the sessions at the SW were inspiring to me, but the one that sticks out the most in my memory is the talk Mr. S gave on Friday night regarding the Hobbit Holes he plans to build in Olathe. Now you’re probably thinking, “Well, duh. Syrie’s excited about Hobbit Holes.” And I am. But that’s not why it stuck out to me. Do you have any idea how much that would cost!?! Not like it’s free stuff or anything. And work? I imagine every able-bodied OYANer would volunteer for unpaid manual labor, but still….
That evening, Mr. S told us that this wasn’t just something he thought was cool, but impossible. It wasn’t something he only dreamed about, but never really planned on doing. No – it’s something he believes in. It’s something he’s not afraid to believe in. And that’s what I saw there. You people aren’t afraid to dream big. You’re not afraid to believe in the impossible. You’re not afraid.
The memories I have from the workshop are some of the most precious of my life. I’m taking all of the things I love about you guys, and locking them in a treasure box in my heart to keep forever. I’m telling the honest-to-goodness truth when I say that you are the best friends I’ve ever had. I mean, I seriously adore how I can wear a glittery prom dress, steampunk goggles, and flip flops around you, and you don’t call me weird, or laugh at me, or give me odd glances and tell me you don’t want to be my friend because I’m different. That may sound small, but it means the world to me.
Sometimes, life throws things at us. But we don’t always call them lemons and throw them back, or make lemonade. Sometimes we’re hit. And sometimes we cry when we’re hurt, and we break when we’re weak. That’s life, and it ain’t easy. And this week, I cried. (Yeah, I’m a girl, I cry a lot, okay? XP) But this week, I didn’t cry because I was angry. I didn’t cry because I was hurt, or weak, or near giving up. I cried because I loved something, and now it’s over. I cried because I have to wait a year to see my best friends again. To hear their voices; to hug them, and to laugh with them.
I honestly believe that OYAN is what it is because we believed. We’re hundreds and thousands of miles apart, and yet we believed that God could bring us together. We’re all different, and yet we believed in the love we had for each other, and we believed in each other’s dreams. And look what happened: We spent a week together – two-hundred or more of us – learning, giving, loving, healing, praying, and dreaming of hobbit holes and a library under a tree. (And getting free stuff. )
I have two homes, I realized. One is small-town Missouri, where my house is, and the other is Olathe, Kansas, where my heart is. After spending the week encouraging each other, helping each other, laughing about green fruits from the treeless forest, drawing on each other with sharpies, dressing up in crazy costumes, and singing random songs, my heart wanted to live there. (But with better food, of course. )
And then I grasped something else. Frodo couldn’t live in Rivendell forever. He had to complete his adventure, or what would’ve happened? There wouldn’t be a Rivendell anymore. There wouldn’t be anything left to believe in. Frodo was just an ordinary hero, and he didn’t always feel like going on. But he did. He was willing to live through the fires of Mordor because, somewhere deep down, he still believed.
So I’m sitting here now, with knowledge in my head, memories in my heart, and the names of the people I love scrawled across the back of my t-shirt in sharpie, and I’m believing. I’m believing in you all. I’m believing in your dreams, and I’m believing that God will bring us all back together next June in that hot, humid Bell Center parking lot. Because Rivendell wasn’t the end – it was just the beginning.
It takes a special kind of friendship to laugh together, and to cry together. To hurt together, and to heal together. It takes a special kind of friendship to believe together, and that’s why I love you all. You’re always there for me when I need someone to remind me that, “There’s still some good in this world, Syrie.” You’re the only people I know who I can make me smile when I’m crying. Just like right now.
So I’m going to spend the year writing, and dreaming, and living, and praying for each of you, because I love you, because I remember, and because I believe.
Keep smiling you guys, and I’ll see you next year. <3
~Syrie Leeland
Allons-y from Abby:
When I come to describe this Workshop, a few words stick out.
Rivendell. Family. Home. Mordor. Ordinary. Sent out.
Prior to the Workshop, I had been praying about themes and what He might want to do with us as a family during this week. I had conversations with people where we talked about 2012 and the way that God knit the group together with prayer on the last night. But this year- this was a new year. One of my greatest fears coming into the SW was that we might try to replicate 2012. I didn’t want us to fake what sprung up organically. At the same time, I know that God is in the Workshops in a strong way. The Schwaubauers know that. We as an OYAN family know it. So at the same time as I was cautious, I was also excited about what might happen.
I’ve looked forward to this Workshop more than the previous ones. I finally feel like I have a place in OYAN. I have people who care about me. I have family, and I was going to see them again, face to face.
During the first few days of the Workshop, all my expectations on the family front were met. I met new friends. I hugged old ones for a long, long time. We took stupid pictures, we laughed; we signed t-shirts; we sat together at lunch and talked about Harry Potter and accents and writing styles and the future. But I didn’t yet notice a theme.
Mr. S. talked about ordinary heroes on Monday. Mark Wilson talked about Rivendells; havens for creativity. Braden’s song had been on my ipod since the Winter Workshop and I abused the replay button. But it didn’t click.
I was praying Thursday and Friday for something. I prayed that God would teach us to be ordinary heroes. I prayed that we would know how to go home. I prayed that we would be changed. But my faith was small. I’ve been to Workshops. I’ve come home on a high, then seen my passion filter out.
So my expectations weren't high. God might move, He might not. We might feel passionate, but it might not last. We might cry, but then we'll forget. We feel really tight-knit now, but maybe three months from now we won’t talk.
It got to Friday, and I talked about this with Texas Cowboy over dinner. Then we went to the last session. I had a nervousness that I couldn’t shake, and though I was trying to remind myself that God does what He will and would do what He wants with the evening, I didn't fully believe He would actually do anything.
Then we had the song about Bob, and the chorus.
"Why did we feel alone, why were we on our own, when there's a place that's so much bigger on the inside? Our stories will soar far above, in a place that's filled with love, and ordinary heroes. Welcome to our world!"
Mr. S. shared at the beginning of his session about how Mark Wilson had told him that he was going to speak on Rivendell, without knowing that Mr. S’s last session was going to be on Hobbit Holes.
Those two things. I got an inkling that perhaps, maybe, this wasn’t just a coincidence. Maybe I had underestimated God- again.
One of the notes I took during Mr. S.’s session was the single line, “Rivendell is cooler than Mordor.” Cue moment of truth. This isn’t just about Hobbit Holes, and this isn’t just about us escaping real life. This is about tentacles of light going out into Mordor. This is about the Fellowship healing and preparing for the battle.
We all have our Mordors. Whether or not you consider OYAN home, we still have to go back to our real places of residence. Even if we all moved to Kansas, there’s a Mordor there, too. We can’t hide from evil. Fifty-one weeks of the year, you probably live in a place that’s more like Mordor then Rivendell.
OYAN, our Rivendell, feels like home because it is. It feels like healing because it is. We don’t want to leave because it’s beautiful. But even though we have to go back to Mordor, Rivendell is still cooler.
I was reminded strongly of the fact that I don’t often take Rivendell home with me. If Rivendell is cooler than Mordor, then why don't I try to be Rivendell? When the Fellowship went into the battle, they still had the light and hope that they had been given in the place of refuge. It was because of that hope that they were able to stand.
At the end of his session, Mr. S. shared about how they were concerned- just as some of us were- about us trying to make this Workshop like last year, about us trying to manufacture the same passion as last year. But God will do what He wants, regardless of us. And if we think we’ve got Him figured out, we’ll be wrong.
As Mr. S. talked about faith, I realized (again) that these ideas are so big. It took faith to write a curriculum. It took faith to hold a Workshop. It takes faith to love each other. It takes faith to dream about Hobbit Holes.
“First you must see it, then you can make it real.”
I started to see what I had been missing the rest of the week as Mr. S. spoke about Hobbit Holes and places of creativity and changing the world through faith.
What are we here for- why does OYAN exist, why do the Workshops exist? It’s so we can go home and continue to be Rivendell. In our cyber Rivendell, we don’t see face to face but we still talk heart to heart. Our Rivendell should be our interactions with each other. Our Rivendell should be our love for people, regardless.
I remember last year going home and thinking that “I’ve got to keep contact with these people.” But I’m terrible at that. I’m terrible at asking deep questions and consistently caring for and praying for people on OYAN.
So praying the prayer of being a Rivendell away from Kansas is a scary prayer for me, at least. Because I feel that even though we’re lights, when we walk in Mordor, it’s hard to see through the grey, and the swords of darkness are painful and difficult to evade.
I don’t know what my piece of the Rivendell should be. I know I belong. I know I’m a part of this movement, but as I sat in the session, I heard Mr. S. speak about faith in the impossible, and I prayed . Because I’m going home tomorrow, and what am I supposed to do? I’ve heard about writing and I’ve experienced family, and I’ve been challenged to shine light into a grey-shadowed world, whether it’s as a teacher or a sister or a writer or a friend. But Rivendell? I can't picture myself as one of the Fellowship.
It’s hard to pray those kind of prayers, because I don’t see myself suddenly becoming a bearer of Rivendell. I don’t see myself suddenly becoming good at relationships, or consistent in writing, or faithfully loving people, or pursuing the light.
Mr. S. read a piece of the Runt book, and one line stuck out to me.
“Don’t see yourself, you’ve seen too much of that already.”
Convicted feels like a cliché term, but that line was for me. I’m convinced of it. I look through my eyes at OYAN, at Rivendell, at my situation. I look through my own eyes at people.
But we are to be Rivendell, and God answers bold prayers. I could see that faith in the Schwabauers as they stood on stage, and in the standing ovation of teenagers who believed that this crazy dream of Hobbit Holes could be a reality.
“Don’t see yourself, you’ve seen too much of that already," became my prayer.
I came out of the Bell Center and saw the crowd of people praying over Mr. S. I didn’t feel the need to be in the circle this year. So I sat a little ways and sang the old hymns, hearing the hum of many teary voices and praying a prayer myself.
Thank you for OYAN, and get us ready, because we don’t know how we’re supposed to do this. We’ve found home, but we’re still broken pots, rusting instruments, paintings unfinished. Our capabilities are so much less than our dreams.
A couple people in the circle said things like “I know this feels like an end.” But I sat ten feet away and really felt strongly that this wasn’t supposed to be an end. Being with you was not supposed to make me just want to stay in Kansas.
I think it was Jonny who said to me that OYAN is a rocket, ready to launch. We’re don’t have all the parts, and we don’t know where the fuel to get there will come from, but this is the start. This is the journey to the darkest parts of Mordor, and though we’re going home to journey apart, we also journey together.
I am praying for more faith, for me; for all of us. I believe that OYAN is going to be a force; that our Rivendell is going to creep like spider fingers of light across this continent and this world. The light we have been given will permeate publishing houses and bookstores and mission fields and schools and homes and the brokenness that shadows Mordor.
I don’t know how we’re going to do any of these crazy things, but all I can say is that I want to stand by you guys. I want to stand in my own Mordor here in BC, and I want to fight with you and for you in our cyber-Rivendell. We need to. I’m looking forward to engaging with more of you online, and I’m looking forward to praying for you.
In 2012, I bawled most of Friday night and Saturday after feeling the weight of this community for the first time. This year I had some tears in the prayer circle, because of the awe of the fact that this is something God’s doing, and this is a beginning, and God is good, and even when we don’t have faith God still gives us what we need.
I haven’t felt the same sadness this year, and I’ve felt almost excited to go home with the things I've learned. The passion is less intense. Hopefully it’s deeper. Hopefully our commitment to Hobbit Holes and cyber-Rivendells and making it real will be stronger because of this Workshop. Hopefully we will not let each other forget.
I hesitate to promise, because I know I will stumble. But that’s the point of faith. We know that our light isn’t enough, but we also know the Light is enough. So I stand by Him, and we stand by each other.
Together or apart, we make it our aim to please Him. Remember that Mordor is ultimately defeated. Rivendell is the foretelling of our future. We will reach it someday. Take courage. We will not always live in the grey underlands.
Until next year, then, let’s make more of our world like Rivendell.
I love you all.
“fire burning brightly
flames of farewells in my throat
broke my stony heart
and took away its old crusts
when I said goodbye and looked
and saw those bright fires
and many burning farewells
that broke all our hearts
and built them back up again
and whispered a truth to me
there is no end
just a journey
and a home
and the duet between the two.”
-Jared Schmitz.
~Abby Walsh
Rivendell. Family. Home. Mordor. Ordinary. Sent out.
Prior to the Workshop, I had been praying about themes and what He might want to do with us as a family during this week. I had conversations with people where we talked about 2012 and the way that God knit the group together with prayer on the last night. But this year- this was a new year. One of my greatest fears coming into the SW was that we might try to replicate 2012. I didn’t want us to fake what sprung up organically. At the same time, I know that God is in the Workshops in a strong way. The Schwaubauers know that. We as an OYAN family know it. So at the same time as I was cautious, I was also excited about what might happen.
I’ve looked forward to this Workshop more than the previous ones. I finally feel like I have a place in OYAN. I have people who care about me. I have family, and I was going to see them again, face to face.
During the first few days of the Workshop, all my expectations on the family front were met. I met new friends. I hugged old ones for a long, long time. We took stupid pictures, we laughed; we signed t-shirts; we sat together at lunch and talked about Harry Potter and accents and writing styles and the future. But I didn’t yet notice a theme.
Mr. S. talked about ordinary heroes on Monday. Mark Wilson talked about Rivendells; havens for creativity. Braden’s song had been on my ipod since the Winter Workshop and I abused the replay button. But it didn’t click.
I was praying Thursday and Friday for something. I prayed that God would teach us to be ordinary heroes. I prayed that we would know how to go home. I prayed that we would be changed. But my faith was small. I’ve been to Workshops. I’ve come home on a high, then seen my passion filter out.
So my expectations weren't high. God might move, He might not. We might feel passionate, but it might not last. We might cry, but then we'll forget. We feel really tight-knit now, but maybe three months from now we won’t talk.
It got to Friday, and I talked about this with Texas Cowboy over dinner. Then we went to the last session. I had a nervousness that I couldn’t shake, and though I was trying to remind myself that God does what He will and would do what He wants with the evening, I didn't fully believe He would actually do anything.
Then we had the song about Bob, and the chorus.
"Why did we feel alone, why were we on our own, when there's a place that's so much bigger on the inside? Our stories will soar far above, in a place that's filled with love, and ordinary heroes. Welcome to our world!"
Mr. S. shared at the beginning of his session about how Mark Wilson had told him that he was going to speak on Rivendell, without knowing that Mr. S’s last session was going to be on Hobbit Holes.
Those two things. I got an inkling that perhaps, maybe, this wasn’t just a coincidence. Maybe I had underestimated God- again.
One of the notes I took during Mr. S.’s session was the single line, “Rivendell is cooler than Mordor.” Cue moment of truth. This isn’t just about Hobbit Holes, and this isn’t just about us escaping real life. This is about tentacles of light going out into Mordor. This is about the Fellowship healing and preparing for the battle.
We all have our Mordors. Whether or not you consider OYAN home, we still have to go back to our real places of residence. Even if we all moved to Kansas, there’s a Mordor there, too. We can’t hide from evil. Fifty-one weeks of the year, you probably live in a place that’s more like Mordor then Rivendell.
OYAN, our Rivendell, feels like home because it is. It feels like healing because it is. We don’t want to leave because it’s beautiful. But even though we have to go back to Mordor, Rivendell is still cooler.
I was reminded strongly of the fact that I don’t often take Rivendell home with me. If Rivendell is cooler than Mordor, then why don't I try to be Rivendell? When the Fellowship went into the battle, they still had the light and hope that they had been given in the place of refuge. It was because of that hope that they were able to stand.
At the end of his session, Mr. S. shared about how they were concerned- just as some of us were- about us trying to make this Workshop like last year, about us trying to manufacture the same passion as last year. But God will do what He wants, regardless of us. And if we think we’ve got Him figured out, we’ll be wrong.
As Mr. S. talked about faith, I realized (again) that these ideas are so big. It took faith to write a curriculum. It took faith to hold a Workshop. It takes faith to love each other. It takes faith to dream about Hobbit Holes.
“First you must see it, then you can make it real.”
I started to see what I had been missing the rest of the week as Mr. S. spoke about Hobbit Holes and places of creativity and changing the world through faith.
What are we here for- why does OYAN exist, why do the Workshops exist? It’s so we can go home and continue to be Rivendell. In our cyber Rivendell, we don’t see face to face but we still talk heart to heart. Our Rivendell should be our interactions with each other. Our Rivendell should be our love for people, regardless.
I remember last year going home and thinking that “I’ve got to keep contact with these people.” But I’m terrible at that. I’m terrible at asking deep questions and consistently caring for and praying for people on OYAN.
So praying the prayer of being a Rivendell away from Kansas is a scary prayer for me, at least. Because I feel that even though we’re lights, when we walk in Mordor, it’s hard to see through the grey, and the swords of darkness are painful and difficult to evade.
I don’t know what my piece of the Rivendell should be. I know I belong. I know I’m a part of this movement, but as I sat in the session, I heard Mr. S. speak about faith in the impossible, and I prayed . Because I’m going home tomorrow, and what am I supposed to do? I’ve heard about writing and I’ve experienced family, and I’ve been challenged to shine light into a grey-shadowed world, whether it’s as a teacher or a sister or a writer or a friend. But Rivendell? I can't picture myself as one of the Fellowship.
It’s hard to pray those kind of prayers, because I don’t see myself suddenly becoming a bearer of Rivendell. I don’t see myself suddenly becoming good at relationships, or consistent in writing, or faithfully loving people, or pursuing the light.
Mr. S. read a piece of the Runt book, and one line stuck out to me.
“Don’t see yourself, you’ve seen too much of that already.”
Convicted feels like a cliché term, but that line was for me. I’m convinced of it. I look through my eyes at OYAN, at Rivendell, at my situation. I look through my own eyes at people.
But we are to be Rivendell, and God answers bold prayers. I could see that faith in the Schwabauers as they stood on stage, and in the standing ovation of teenagers who believed that this crazy dream of Hobbit Holes could be a reality.
“Don’t see yourself, you’ve seen too much of that already," became my prayer.
I came out of the Bell Center and saw the crowd of people praying over Mr. S. I didn’t feel the need to be in the circle this year. So I sat a little ways and sang the old hymns, hearing the hum of many teary voices and praying a prayer myself.
Thank you for OYAN, and get us ready, because we don’t know how we’re supposed to do this. We’ve found home, but we’re still broken pots, rusting instruments, paintings unfinished. Our capabilities are so much less than our dreams.
A couple people in the circle said things like “I know this feels like an end.” But I sat ten feet away and really felt strongly that this wasn’t supposed to be an end. Being with you was not supposed to make me just want to stay in Kansas.
I think it was Jonny who said to me that OYAN is a rocket, ready to launch. We’re don’t have all the parts, and we don’t know where the fuel to get there will come from, but this is the start. This is the journey to the darkest parts of Mordor, and though we’re going home to journey apart, we also journey together.
I am praying for more faith, for me; for all of us. I believe that OYAN is going to be a force; that our Rivendell is going to creep like spider fingers of light across this continent and this world. The light we have been given will permeate publishing houses and bookstores and mission fields and schools and homes and the brokenness that shadows Mordor.
I don’t know how we’re going to do any of these crazy things, but all I can say is that I want to stand by you guys. I want to stand in my own Mordor here in BC, and I want to fight with you and for you in our cyber-Rivendell. We need to. I’m looking forward to engaging with more of you online, and I’m looking forward to praying for you.
In 2012, I bawled most of Friday night and Saturday after feeling the weight of this community for the first time. This year I had some tears in the prayer circle, because of the awe of the fact that this is something God’s doing, and this is a beginning, and God is good, and even when we don’t have faith God still gives us what we need.
I haven’t felt the same sadness this year, and I’ve felt almost excited to go home with the things I've learned. The passion is less intense. Hopefully it’s deeper. Hopefully our commitment to Hobbit Holes and cyber-Rivendells and making it real will be stronger because of this Workshop. Hopefully we will not let each other forget.
I hesitate to promise, because I know I will stumble. But that’s the point of faith. We know that our light isn’t enough, but we also know the Light is enough. So I stand by Him, and we stand by each other.
Together or apart, we make it our aim to please Him. Remember that Mordor is ultimately defeated. Rivendell is the foretelling of our future. We will reach it someday. Take courage. We will not always live in the grey underlands.
Until next year, then, let’s make more of our world like Rivendell.
I love you all.
“fire burning brightly
flames of farewells in my throat
broke my stony heart
and took away its old crusts
when I said goodbye and looked
and saw those bright fires
and many burning farewells
that broke all our hearts
and built them back up again
and whispered a truth to me
there is no end
just a journey
and a home
and the duet between the two.”
-Jared Schmitz.
~Abby Walsh
We, OYAN ~ Hannah
Here's a tiny taste of what's been mulling through my head for well over a week, a large tangle of half-thoughts that need corralled and pinned down.
----
We are global. Spread throughout the world, the continents, the countries, states, and provinces. And yet, we are connected. The epitome of our connectedness is when we congregate under the Kansas sun.
It’s amazing, the threads of love, kindness and acceptance that weave through this group.
No, we aren’t perfect. Yes, we have issues. Spats. Differences. Flame-wars. But beneath that—in spite of that—God is working in, around, above and through us. One analogy of life is that of a tapestry, and as God weaves our own personal tapestries, He’s running threads of each one of us through this tapestry called “OYAN,” and through our tapestries, OYAN winds its way. It looks tangled, crazy, far-fetched and sometimes painful from the view we see now. Someday, however, we’ll see it right-side-up, and it will be stunning.
My deepest friendships exist because of OYAN. Much of my life since 2009 has been shaped by this beautiful mess of quirky people.
I wonder if our teacher and his wife, both our mentors, ever imagined this happening. Did Dan and Carrol Schawbauer envision their box of three books, stack of DVDs, and web forum would explode this much? That they would be known affectionately as “Mr. and Mrs. S” to hundreds of young people that look up to them like a favorite aunt and uncle or a second set of parents? Did they know that their first tiny workshop hosted in a hotel would expand and take over an entire college campus? That teens from around the world would flock to their workshops year after year, coming to deepen their talents, friendships, and that in doing so would also deepen their relationship with God?
Did any of us ever imagine that a writing curriculum would rock our world?
I didn’t.
He cried that last night, Mr. S.
I did too, in the prayer circle, the muggy Kansas summer surrounding us like a hug, the sky overhead a soft black. People praying aloud, praying for Mr. and Mrs. S. and their newest dream, a creative arts foundation. Praying for each other and that praying morphing into singing—hearts praying as hymns and worship songs rose above us and melted into the night.
It’s amazing. Amid the classes, the craziness, the costumes. Amongst all the baggage we carry, the tough things life has thrown into our teeth. In the middle of us—of our mess, this knot of fragile misfits with a love for the stories inside of us and a desire to share them—inside of all of that, it’s beautiful.
We are beautiful.
~Hannah Mills at Sword of Ink
----
We are global. Spread throughout the world, the continents, the countries, states, and provinces. And yet, we are connected. The epitome of our connectedness is when we congregate under the Kansas sun.
It’s amazing, the threads of love, kindness and acceptance that weave through this group.
No, we aren’t perfect. Yes, we have issues. Spats. Differences. Flame-wars. But beneath that—in spite of that—God is working in, around, above and through us. One analogy of life is that of a tapestry, and as God weaves our own personal tapestries, He’s running threads of each one of us through this tapestry called “OYAN,” and through our tapestries, OYAN winds its way. It looks tangled, crazy, far-fetched and sometimes painful from the view we see now. Someday, however, we’ll see it right-side-up, and it will be stunning.
My deepest friendships exist because of OYAN. Much of my life since 2009 has been shaped by this beautiful mess of quirky people.
I wonder if our teacher and his wife, both our mentors, ever imagined this happening. Did Dan and Carrol Schawbauer envision their box of three books, stack of DVDs, and web forum would explode this much? That they would be known affectionately as “Mr. and Mrs. S” to hundreds of young people that look up to them like a favorite aunt and uncle or a second set of parents? Did they know that their first tiny workshop hosted in a hotel would expand and take over an entire college campus? That teens from around the world would flock to their workshops year after year, coming to deepen their talents, friendships, and that in doing so would also deepen their relationship with God?
Did any of us ever imagine that a writing curriculum would rock our world?
I didn’t.
He cried that last night, Mr. S.
I did too, in the prayer circle, the muggy Kansas summer surrounding us like a hug, the sky overhead a soft black. People praying aloud, praying for Mr. and Mrs. S. and their newest dream, a creative arts foundation. Praying for each other and that praying morphing into singing—hearts praying as hymns and worship songs rose above us and melted into the night.
It’s amazing. Amid the classes, the craziness, the costumes. Amongst all the baggage we carry, the tough things life has thrown into our teeth. In the middle of us—of our mess, this knot of fragile misfits with a love for the stories inside of us and a desire to share them—inside of all of that, it’s beautiful.
We are beautiful.
~Hannah Mills at Sword of Ink
Tuesday, 2 July 2013
Pain in the Night - Sian
People have posted and I meant to the night after OYAN ended, but stuff happened.
Y'know, like stuff does.
And now I'm curled up for half an hour, trying to think exactly how to say the stuff in my heart.
Friday night, June 21st, ended OYAN Summer Workshop 2013. I'd gone back to my dorm to put some stuff down before coming back, and missed the prayer over Mr S.
As I wandered back around the outskirts of the group praying and singing, eyes closed and tears streaming, Jonny came over to me, pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. I crumbled against him and started crying.
When I finally looked up as the crush of bodies increased, the OYAN people were three deep around me. I was nose to nose with Marybeth, also weeping, with Kristin's expressive chocolate eyes fixed on me with a sad, trembly smile on her lips.
This place isn't just any place. This place is our home because we are all there. No, not even that. We could all be there and have no bond or unity of spirit. This place isn't even home. These people are home. Because God is there.
I watched God descend that night.
I saw girls with long hair, ankle length skirts and loose t-shirts linking arms with girls in tighter, modern tops and shorts with cut, dyed hair, eyes closed and singing praise, praying together.
Guys (and I'm naming Gunnar, Jonny and Reuben here - I have so much respect for you three, sorry to anyone else I missed) gripped girls' hands in prayer and held them while they cried - and were unafraid to cry themselves.
I watched barriers crumble and denominations collapse the walls that night, and the fruition of our prayer group's and individual, broken hearted pleas come true.
I've grown in the past two years to dislike churches more and more, because of the cliques, because of the lack of acceptance if you don't become a member, because of the feeling of being a constant stranger, because of weak teaching (in some), because of denominational splits and how people find that more important than worshipping God in Christ, in Love. I had more in union of spirit with that group of young people before God than I've had in church in months.
God broke the barriers and united us in praise, in grief, in love and in worship.
It was a miracle. You know why? Because I'd been praying with the prayer group all that week, and still felt...something...was lacking. When I held my weeping daughter in my arms late into the night, and broke down myself at yet another gathering - we knew God was there, hearing us pray and cry and worship.
Friday morning, I skipped a session and went outside, curled up on the grass and broke down in tears like I haven't been able to for months, eyes and nose streaming. I'm so glad God makes our cries coherent.
I prayed for OYAN, for the guys with the broken hearts and souls I knew I couldn't fix, for those rivalries and factions, for the unity we have. I prayed for relationships, for personal stuff. For direction for the young leaders. And I prayed for God to come down.
And that night, I watched Him do it. That wasn't the first miracle in two weeks either.
As I was about to board the aeroplane for France, I wrapped up talking with my Mom. As you may know, our financial situation is not the best, and she hadn't got enough money for petrol. She asked me to pray that God would supply her with £50 by the end of the day, and I prayed with her on the phone. Then I suddenly remembered a £20 note I'd left her in the bedroom, which she went to get as we ended the call.
She rang me back as I was walking towards the entrance to the plane; "SIAN! I just want you to know that there's £40 there!"
...wow.
I'm kinda lost for words at this point. I just want you to know that God hears you. Hears every cry you make whether you think He does or not. He may not answer the way you want but oh yeah, He hears.
Part of my tears that night were healing. Because I prayed until I had run out of words that morning, and wasn't really expecting the answer. And then I watched Him answer out of Heaven and felt His presence amongst us that night.
Want to know something?
Home isn't where your heart is. Home is where God is. And that's the safest place to put your heart.
-Queen Jane by God's Grace/Sian Garner-Jones at Walk With Us
Y'know, like stuff does.
And now I'm curled up for half an hour, trying to think exactly how to say the stuff in my heart.
Friday night, June 21st, ended OYAN Summer Workshop 2013. I'd gone back to my dorm to put some stuff down before coming back, and missed the prayer over Mr S.
As I wandered back around the outskirts of the group praying and singing, eyes closed and tears streaming, Jonny came over to me, pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. I crumbled against him and started crying.
When I finally looked up as the crush of bodies increased, the OYAN people were three deep around me. I was nose to nose with Marybeth, also weeping, with Kristin's expressive chocolate eyes fixed on me with a sad, trembly smile on her lips.
This place isn't just any place. This place is our home because we are all there. No, not even that. We could all be there and have no bond or unity of spirit. This place isn't even home. These people are home. Because God is there.
I watched God descend that night.
I saw girls with long hair, ankle length skirts and loose t-shirts linking arms with girls in tighter, modern tops and shorts with cut, dyed hair, eyes closed and singing praise, praying together.
Guys (and I'm naming Gunnar, Jonny and Reuben here - I have so much respect for you three, sorry to anyone else I missed) gripped girls' hands in prayer and held them while they cried - and were unafraid to cry themselves.
I watched barriers crumble and denominations collapse the walls that night, and the fruition of our prayer group's and individual, broken hearted pleas come true.
I've grown in the past two years to dislike churches more and more, because of the cliques, because of the lack of acceptance if you don't become a member, because of the feeling of being a constant stranger, because of weak teaching (in some), because of denominational splits and how people find that more important than worshipping God in Christ, in Love. I had more in union of spirit with that group of young people before God than I've had in church in months.
God broke the barriers and united us in praise, in grief, in love and in worship.
It was a miracle. You know why? Because I'd been praying with the prayer group all that week, and still felt...something...was lacking. When I held my weeping daughter in my arms late into the night, and broke down myself at yet another gathering - we knew God was there, hearing us pray and cry and worship.
Friday morning, I skipped a session and went outside, curled up on the grass and broke down in tears like I haven't been able to for months, eyes and nose streaming. I'm so glad God makes our cries coherent.
I prayed for OYAN, for the guys with the broken hearts and souls I knew I couldn't fix, for those rivalries and factions, for the unity we have. I prayed for relationships, for personal stuff. For direction for the young leaders. And I prayed for God to come down.
And that night, I watched Him do it. That wasn't the first miracle in two weeks either.
As I was about to board the aeroplane for France, I wrapped up talking with my Mom. As you may know, our financial situation is not the best, and she hadn't got enough money for petrol. She asked me to pray that God would supply her with £50 by the end of the day, and I prayed with her on the phone. Then I suddenly remembered a £20 note I'd left her in the bedroom, which she went to get as we ended the call.
She rang me back as I was walking towards the entrance to the plane; "SIAN! I just want you to know that there's £40 there!"
...wow.
I'm kinda lost for words at this point. I just want you to know that God hears you. Hears every cry you make whether you think He does or not. He may not answer the way you want but oh yeah, He hears.
Part of my tears that night were healing. Because I prayed until I had run out of words that morning, and wasn't really expecting the answer. And then I watched Him answer out of Heaven and felt His presence amongst us that night.
Want to know something?
Home isn't where your heart is. Home is where God is. And that's the safest place to put your heart.
-Queen Jane by God's Grace/Sian Garner-Jones at Walk With Us
Friday, 28 June 2013
Earnestness from Erynn:
Once upon a time, none of us knew how to write.
Much of this echoes what Kyle said in his student lecture, but to summarize, this one saying stands out: we are the luckiest generation of writers. Once upon a time, we wouldn’t have known each other. We’d mostly all be married by now, many of us with kids – depending on the era. We’d be working, probably most of us in conditions we didn’t like or couldn’t handle. We truly are the luckiest. Just think. Once upon a time, we wouldn’t have been writers.
And, honestly, thinking of myself in an age where I didn’t have you guys? Well, it’s not pretty.
It’s been several days since the workshop and I’ve had the time to calm down, recoup, finish a novel, and start looking towards the future again.
And what a future it’s going to be.
I didn’t cry because the workshop was over. I cried, I jumped, I ran, I sang (and me singing is usually a bad thing) because I was so incredibly joyful that this community exists. I didn’t cry, jump, run, sing because of the workshop, but the people, the vision, the future that is stretching ahead of each and every one of us. I look at each and every OYANer and I see a future for them.
I am not the nicest of persons. If you offend my friends, I will hate you. I will despise you. I will turn away from you, outcast you, and make it very, very difficult for you to get to know me. And sometimes, that works for my ill, because I don’t get to know you. I am not the nicest of persons, and there are OYANers that I distaste. But just think. Just think about what those people can accomplish in the future. OYAN taught me to see and appreciate the future potentials and the past successes of every living soul.
Maybe you and I have our lives plotted out already.
Maybe you’re headed into college next year (yay graduates! We rock!) and we don’t really have a clue what we’re doing but the water of life is up to our neck and we’ve got four years left until we’re expected to swim. Maybe you’re just thirteen and this is your first year in the curriculum and to you, I’m this wrinkled old person who doesn’t remember what it’s like to be your age anymore. Maybe you’re somewhere in between, unsure of the future but beginning to question the past. I saw a lot of that this workshop. I see a lot of these mentalities in everyone in OYAN every day.
Once upon a time, we’d already be entrenched in our future.
Once upon a time, there would be no social mobility, no hope for us ordinary souls to change the world with a combination of twenty-six letters and some punctuation marks.
Once upon a time, we wouldn’t be the ordinary heroes, the once-and-future-king, the strong hobbits, the abandoned farmboys, the children who will rise above all problems to reach the story goal.
Once upon a time…
I’m ever so glad I’ve gotten to watch, become a part of, encourage, support, and understand this community.
Thank you for letting me in.
Thank you for being extraordinary in your ordinariness.
Thank you, OYAN.
For family. Community. Critiques. Stories. Debates. Love. For all the Once Upon A Times that I’ve managed to turn into novels.
Thank you.
~Erynn Besse
Much of this echoes what Kyle said in his student lecture, but to summarize, this one saying stands out: we are the luckiest generation of writers. Once upon a time, we wouldn’t have known each other. We’d mostly all be married by now, many of us with kids – depending on the era. We’d be working, probably most of us in conditions we didn’t like or couldn’t handle. We truly are the luckiest. Just think. Once upon a time, we wouldn’t have been writers.
And, honestly, thinking of myself in an age where I didn’t have you guys? Well, it’s not pretty.
It’s been several days since the workshop and I’ve had the time to calm down, recoup, finish a novel, and start looking towards the future again.
And what a future it’s going to be.
I didn’t cry because the workshop was over. I cried, I jumped, I ran, I sang (and me singing is usually a bad thing) because I was so incredibly joyful that this community exists. I didn’t cry, jump, run, sing because of the workshop, but the people, the vision, the future that is stretching ahead of each and every one of us. I look at each and every OYANer and I see a future for them.
I am not the nicest of persons. If you offend my friends, I will hate you. I will despise you. I will turn away from you, outcast you, and make it very, very difficult for you to get to know me. And sometimes, that works for my ill, because I don’t get to know you. I am not the nicest of persons, and there are OYANers that I distaste. But just think. Just think about what those people can accomplish in the future. OYAN taught me to see and appreciate the future potentials and the past successes of every living soul.
Maybe you and I have our lives plotted out already.
Maybe you’re headed into college next year (yay graduates! We rock!) and we don’t really have a clue what we’re doing but the water of life is up to our neck and we’ve got four years left until we’re expected to swim. Maybe you’re just thirteen and this is your first year in the curriculum and to you, I’m this wrinkled old person who doesn’t remember what it’s like to be your age anymore. Maybe you’re somewhere in between, unsure of the future but beginning to question the past. I saw a lot of that this workshop. I see a lot of these mentalities in everyone in OYAN every day.
Once upon a time, we’d already be entrenched in our future.
Once upon a time, there would be no social mobility, no hope for us ordinary souls to change the world with a combination of twenty-six letters and some punctuation marks.
Once upon a time, we wouldn’t be the ordinary heroes, the once-and-future-king, the strong hobbits, the abandoned farmboys, the children who will rise above all problems to reach the story goal.
Once upon a time…
I’m ever so glad I’ve gotten to watch, become a part of, encourage, support, and understand this community.
Thank you for letting me in.
Thank you for being extraordinary in your ordinariness.
Thank you, OYAN.
For family. Community. Critiques. Stories. Debates. Love. For all the Once Upon A Times that I’ve managed to turn into novels.
Thank you.
~Erynn Besse
Remarks from Rachel:
I've been at the summer workshop the last two years, but I wasn't able to go this year. This really upset me, as many of my friends whom I desperately wanted to meet were going this year, but I couldn't. I continually saw people from the workshop posting things on Facebook and I begged them to video chat with me at some point, but they never got around to it. I even had a dream about being there during the workshop and woke up horribly depressed.
However, despite all that, when everyone got back and were posting all of their sad posts of wishing they were back and how awesome it was, I decided to ignore it. I decided, "Fine, I wasn't at the workshop, I can't be included in all of this, but I'm not going to mope about it. I'm going to be happy and focus on my writing and be happy with that."
Since then, I've been a whole lot happier than I've been in a while. I'm writing, I'm doing the thing that the workshop should really make you want to do, but everyone's too upset that they've left to remember to write.
So while I didn't get to be with a bunch of amazing writers that week, I did learn to buck up and just keep on writing anyway. And when my friends got back, they shared their stories with me and I laughed with them and cried with them as if I had been there myself. And I kept on writing.
So to you people who did get to go to the SW, be glad you got to go, but don't be sad you're not there anymore. Go on with your lives, even if they're hard. Push forward. And most importantly, keep writing.
~Rachel Casto
However, despite all that, when everyone got back and were posting all of their sad posts of wishing they were back and how awesome it was, I decided to ignore it. I decided, "Fine, I wasn't at the workshop, I can't be included in all of this, but I'm not going to mope about it. I'm going to be happy and focus on my writing and be happy with that."
Since then, I've been a whole lot happier than I've been in a while. I'm writing, I'm doing the thing that the workshop should really make you want to do, but everyone's too upset that they've left to remember to write.
So while I didn't get to be with a bunch of amazing writers that week, I did learn to buck up and just keep on writing anyway. And when my friends got back, they shared their stories with me and I laughed with them and cried with them as if I had been there myself. And I kept on writing.
So to you people who did get to go to the SW, be glad you got to go, but don't be sad you're not there anymore. Go on with your lives, even if they're hard. Push forward. And most importantly, keep writing.
~Rachel Casto
Joy From Jonathan:
Ok, this may sound weird.
i didn't cry about the workshop. i didn't last year either.and yet i hate goodbyes; they have far too much of a sense of finality to them. i will never say goodbye to another OYANer. it is never goodbye. it is always "see you later."
yes it hurts to leave. goodbye hurts even more. yet when you know you'll see them again, it doesn't seem quite so hard to miss people.
and while we remain parted, i would say one more thing that i elieve will likely stand for the rest of time:
we are not simply friends or acquaintances, nor are we enemies. never will i allow that to happen, for that would be a black day indeed.
we are family. i have never been with a group of people that cares as much as we do about each other. never have i been able to truly be myself except with you. and i cannot thank you enough. i love all of you amazing, wonderful, bizarre people. and i wouldn't give you up for all the riches of the world.
you are my friends. my family. and yes we may fight and argue, we may fight. we might even be at each others' throats over the silliest issues. but we will always come back to each other. and i will always love you people. you are family by choice. i think that is the best kind.
i love you, never lose sight of who we are.
~Jonathan Bell
i didn't cry about the workshop. i didn't last year either.and yet i hate goodbyes; they have far too much of a sense of finality to them. i will never say goodbye to another OYANer. it is never goodbye. it is always "see you later."
yes it hurts to leave. goodbye hurts even more. yet when you know you'll see them again, it doesn't seem quite so hard to miss people.
and while we remain parted, i would say one more thing that i elieve will likely stand for the rest of time:
we are not simply friends or acquaintances, nor are we enemies. never will i allow that to happen, for that would be a black day indeed.
we are family. i have never been with a group of people that cares as much as we do about each other. never have i been able to truly be myself except with you. and i cannot thank you enough. i love all of you amazing, wonderful, bizarre people. and i wouldn't give you up for all the riches of the world.
you are my friends. my family. and yes we may fight and argue, we may fight. we might even be at each others' throats over the silliest issues. but we will always come back to each other. and i will always love you people. you are family by choice. i think that is the best kind.
i love you, never lose sight of who we are.
~Jonathan Bell
Thursday, 27 June 2013
Boo-hoo from Bob:
I don't think we're in Kansas any more Toto. :'( There's no place like home.
~Ellipses Period/Bob/Dots
~Ellipses Period/Bob/Dots
Greetings from Gunnar:
Sitting here in the Stockton lobby with a twisted feeling in my gut. So far as the past 16 hours are concerned I haven't cried.
This is my farewell to you all, to I won't get to say goodbye to. Yet, this is not my farewell.
No indeed this is my greetings, because a jolly "hello" as everyone knows is not as sad as last goodbye.
But this is not our last goodbye, we will meet again, if not here at the SW, or in the hobbit holes which we may or may not be blessed with. If it is to be that we never see face to face on this earth, then we shall meet in heaven.
You all have blessed me so much this week, wih your love, your laughter, critiques, and prayers. Thank you OYAN SW 2013.
~Gunnar Kerschner
This is my farewell to you all, to I won't get to say goodbye to. Yet, this is not my farewell.
No indeed this is my greetings, because a jolly "hello" as everyone knows is not as sad as last goodbye.
But this is not our last goodbye, we will meet again, if not here at the SW, or in the hobbit holes which we may or may not be blessed with. If it is to be that we never see face to face on this earth, then we shall meet in heaven.
You all have blessed me so much this week, wih your love, your laughter, critiques, and prayers. Thank you OYAN SW 2013.
~Gunnar Kerschner
Scribblings from Sharpie:
As I flew back from the WS, all I could think of was open mic night where someone played part of the soundtrack from The Fellowship of the Ring. The song was stuck in my head and when I looked for it on my iPod, all I had was The Return of the King. So once the stewardess cleared use of electronics, I sought out those familiar tunes. I wanted something long and so selected a song from the credits called, "Days of the Ring."
The opening lyrics sang,
"Lay down, your sweet and weary head. Night is falling, you've come to journey's end. Sleep now, and dream of the ones who came before. They are calling from across the distant shore. Why do you weep? Why all of these tears upon your face. Soon you will see, all of your fears will pass away. …Hope fades, Into the world of night. Through shadows falling, Out of memory and time. Don't say: 'We have come now to the end'. White shores are calling, You and I will meet again."
I didn't expect to come this year. And while I had resigned myself to and accepted that fact, I still longed for the place I had long ago termed as my "Imladris." That term might not make much sense to some of you, but it's what the Elves in Lord of the Rings call Rivendell. While travelers and those who had heard of the hidden city called it Rivendell, to those who called it home, it was known as Imladris.
I had been missing "home" something fierce. Everything about me was dry and tired. I needed a place of healing and rest. Most of you probably will find it funny, but oddly enough, I get more sleep at the workshops, than I do at home.
So for me, this was a place of rest. Home. Imladris.
And the more I think and pray and hope and dream, the more this becomes home...And no longer a 'Rivendell', but rather Imladris.
When Mark Wilson spoke this year and compared OYAN to Rivendell, a place for elves, I agreed. But now I'd like to suggest a slight change in the analogy.
For some, namely a few elves, Rivendell is Imladris; home until they pass over the sea. For others, Rivendell is the last refuge for them until they are allowed passage back to what is home for them, Valinor. And then there are the other peoples, for whom Rivendell is a retreat and refuge, but their home is set. It's Rohan or Gondor, the Shire or Moria.
So maybe you're not just an elf. Perhaps you could be counted as a hobbit or a dwarf or even a man; staying for a time, however long, and then returning home.
Maybe for others, Rivendell is merely a holding point for you until you pass "over the sea" to far better things.
But maybe you're like me, and Imladris is your home, your resting place. The final stop.
So when I go back "home", back to Tennessee each time, I don't see it as returning to Imladris. I don't have that kind of home there.
All I am is Strider, going away for a time, serving quietly and faithfully so that I might better the lives of those I left behind.
Maybe this all seems like a far stretch to you. But you have to understand what it's like to finally have an Imladris in order to know what it's like to leave.
There weren't tears on my half, no sobbing and messy goodbyes. Just plans for the return trip and a request to "make if back in one piece."
This isn't goodbye. Because how could I "come back home" if I was truly leaving it?
Imladris is a place that I will always return to.
After all, all roads lead Home.
Safe journey.
I'll see you soon.
~Janae Leeke/Sharpie
The opening lyrics sang,
"Lay down, your sweet and weary head. Night is falling, you've come to journey's end. Sleep now, and dream of the ones who came before. They are calling from across the distant shore. Why do you weep? Why all of these tears upon your face. Soon you will see, all of your fears will pass away. …Hope fades, Into the world of night. Through shadows falling, Out of memory and time. Don't say: 'We have come now to the end'. White shores are calling, You and I will meet again."
I didn't expect to come this year. And while I had resigned myself to and accepted that fact, I still longed for the place I had long ago termed as my "Imladris." That term might not make much sense to some of you, but it's what the Elves in Lord of the Rings call Rivendell. While travelers and those who had heard of the hidden city called it Rivendell, to those who called it home, it was known as Imladris.
I had been missing "home" something fierce. Everything about me was dry and tired. I needed a place of healing and rest. Most of you probably will find it funny, but oddly enough, I get more sleep at the workshops, than I do at home.
So for me, this was a place of rest. Home. Imladris.
And the more I think and pray and hope and dream, the more this becomes home...And no longer a 'Rivendell', but rather Imladris.
When Mark Wilson spoke this year and compared OYAN to Rivendell, a place for elves, I agreed. But now I'd like to suggest a slight change in the analogy.
For some, namely a few elves, Rivendell is Imladris; home until they pass over the sea. For others, Rivendell is the last refuge for them until they are allowed passage back to what is home for them, Valinor. And then there are the other peoples, for whom Rivendell is a retreat and refuge, but their home is set. It's Rohan or Gondor, the Shire or Moria.
So maybe you're not just an elf. Perhaps you could be counted as a hobbit or a dwarf or even a man; staying for a time, however long, and then returning home.
Maybe for others, Rivendell is merely a holding point for you until you pass "over the sea" to far better things.
But maybe you're like me, and Imladris is your home, your resting place. The final stop.
So when I go back "home", back to Tennessee each time, I don't see it as returning to Imladris. I don't have that kind of home there.
All I am is Strider, going away for a time, serving quietly and faithfully so that I might better the lives of those I left behind.
Maybe this all seems like a far stretch to you. But you have to understand what it's like to finally have an Imladris in order to know what it's like to leave.
There weren't tears on my half, no sobbing and messy goodbyes. Just plans for the return trip and a request to "make if back in one piece."
This isn't goodbye. Because how could I "come back home" if I was truly leaving it?
Imladris is a place that I will always return to.
After all, all roads lead Home.
Safe journey.
I'll see you soon.
~Janae Leeke/Sharpie
Highlights from Hailey:
Heading home from SW. You guys are awesome, both those of you I've met and those of you I just stalked. (That was a joke. ;P)
Sorry for not talking much, but then I'm not much of a talker.
So. Anyway. Thanks for just being your incredible, hilarious, and wonderful selves. (Also, everyone in my critique group was amazing... for the record, you guys are the best.)
~Hailey Hatter
Sorry for not talking much, but then I'm not much of a talker.
So. Anyway. Thanks for just being your incredible, hilarious, and wonderful selves. (Also, everyone in my critique group was amazing... for the record, you guys are the best.)
~Hailey Hatter
A Note from Anna:
This week has been amazing, all because of you guys. Seriously, Rivendell without elves wouldn't be Rivendell. Wouldn't be there at all. But we all know that we don't get to stay in Rivendell. Some of us have been, or will go to Mordor even, but what we've learned and the friendships we've made in Rivendell will stay with us forever, even though we've gone our separate ways.
~Anna Ralls
~Anna Ralls
Choking Up from Chloe:
I looked at my brother yesterday and said, "Tomorrow is the last day of the summer workshop." We gazed at each other...and started crying. And we aren't even at the workshop.
~Chloe Scully
~Chloe Scully
Letter from Lydia:
People are doing all these Post-Workshop posts wherein they make people cry, which I generally try not to do.
So I'll just say this:
Thank you for making me feel welcome, like a prodigal son coming back after a long time gone.
Thank you for making me feel at home, and for reminding me who I am.
Thank you for being what a community of Christians ought to be, and thank you for inspiring me to keep trying.
Over and out!
--Amzi/Lydia DeWolf
So I'll just say this:
Thank you for making me feel welcome, like a prodigal son coming back after a long time gone.
Thank you for making me feel at home, and for reminding me who I am.
Thank you for being what a community of Christians ought to be, and thank you for inspiring me to keep trying.
Over and out!
--Amzi/Lydia DeWolf
Reading from Rebekah:
Sorry if I miss/missed saying bye to anyone. I just didn't want to do all that this year. if you know what I mean.
we'll pick up where we left off soon enough :) love you all.
~Rebekah Swank/Sandy
we'll pick up where we left off soon enough :) love you all.
~Rebekah Swank/Sandy
Cryptic from Kevin:
Hey you all SW folks.
Thanks for the great times! I am sorry I never said goodbye. But I quit saying goodbye a few years ago.
You all were given great gifts, great talent. Plus your awesome.
~Kevin Barkman
Thanks for the great times! I am sorry I never said goodbye. But I quit saying goodbye a few years ago.
You all were given great gifts, great talent. Plus your awesome.
~Kevin Barkman
Applause from Anderson:
I know it's a bit late, but I'd like to give a shout-out to Mb Grasha for being wonderful and hosting the G+ hangout so those of us that couldn't make the workshop could experience open mic night. I'm pretty sure I kept my whole family awake between my clapping for different acts and belting "Do You Hear the People Sing?" at the top of my lungs.
Because for a little while, I heard many people sing--some from their mouths, some from their hearts--and I experienced the community that is OYAN. Oftentimes I forget that I've never actually met most of you. You're all just so wonderful.
So, yeah. Thanks Mb. ^.^
~Anderson Underwood
Because for a little while, I heard many people sing--some from their mouths, some from their hearts--and I experienced the community that is OYAN. Oftentimes I forget that I've never actually met most of you. You're all just so wonderful.
So, yeah. Thanks Mb. ^.^
~Anderson Underwood
The Break from Becka:
My mind is blown. Like, I don't know what I want to do with my life now.
I don't know what I want to say. If I were asked to make a speech on how I feel Post-Workshop, which no one wants to hear, honestly, my speech would be.
Steak.
~Becka MacEnchroe
I don't know what I want to say. If I were asked to make a speech on how I feel Post-Workshop, which no one wants to hear, honestly, my speech would be.
Steak.
~Becka MacEnchroe
Lines from Linnea:
This took me a very long time to put together so I hope you all appreciate my words. ♥
Not. After a long day and a cold shower I decided to come and talk about the one thing in regards to Workshop that I figured I could accurately say. (And also to procrastinate chores.)
If there's one thing I got from this SW (don't get me wrong, I got a lot of things out of it, believe me) It would be a sense of closure and gratitude.
I know who I can count on now. I know what it feels like to hug my best friend, I know how to storyboard, I know that people like Jill Williamson exist, I know lots of things that the first workshop didn't quite give me.
But then, I didn't need to know those things last year. Last year was different in too many ways to count -- my novel wasn't my priority, I was new, I didn't have a friend circle. This year was mostly the opposite, and it showed me so much, and for that, we are eternally grateful. (My references have references.)
I just feel thankful. I'm devastated that I can no longer run up and hug my best friends, I am heartbroken that I can't watch them exist. But I'm so thankful, thankful that I figured out who's there, figured out what I can do. I got the sense of closure that this season of my life needed, and that right there is spectacular.
So thanks, I think is what I'm trying to say. Thanks for existing.
~Linnea Hagler
Not. After a long day and a cold shower I decided to come and talk about the one thing in regards to Workshop that I figured I could accurately say. (And also to procrastinate chores.)
If there's one thing I got from this SW (don't get me wrong, I got a lot of things out of it, believe me) It would be a sense of closure and gratitude.
I know who I can count on now. I know what it feels like to hug my best friend, I know how to storyboard, I know that people like Jill Williamson exist, I know lots of things that the first workshop didn't quite give me.
But then, I didn't need to know those things last year. Last year was different in too many ways to count -- my novel wasn't my priority, I was new, I didn't have a friend circle. This year was mostly the opposite, and it showed me so much, and for that, we are eternally grateful. (My references have references.)
I just feel thankful. I'm devastated that I can no longer run up and hug my best friends, I am heartbroken that I can't watch them exist. But I'm so thankful, thankful that I figured out who's there, figured out what I can do. I got the sense of closure that this season of my life needed, and that right there is spectacular.
So thanks, I think is what I'm trying to say. Thanks for existing.
~Linnea Hagler
From the Hands of Hillary - Part 3
I think I've finally figure out how to think about it...we're still all here. It's still home. We're still...together.
Home is just bigger now. Spread farther and wider. And we'll pull together again next year (and hopefully occasionally in between now and then), but until then, we just have to stretch a little farther to hold it all together.
It still hurts to not be able to hug and cry on each other's shoulders and worship together, but I keep just trying to focus on what a special thing OYAN is and being thankful for the time I did have.
We're going to be alright.
Separate in body, but always together in Christ and, of course, the internet.
Thank God for WiFi."
I miss y'all so much. But that's alright. Because being together is beyond wonderful, but in the end -we're- home. All of us. Like a puzzle and everyone has a piece to bring.
I won't be around again until Algebra II and other schools are finished.
See you all on the other side. ♥
~Hillary Mitchell/Enna Byrd
Home is just bigger now. Spread farther and wider. And we'll pull together again next year (and hopefully occasionally in between now and then), but until then, we just have to stretch a little farther to hold it all together.
It still hurts to not be able to hug and cry on each other's shoulders and worship together, but I keep just trying to focus on what a special thing OYAN is and being thankful for the time I did have.
We're going to be alright.
Separate in body, but always together in Christ and, of course, the internet.
Thank God for WiFi."
I miss y'all so much. But that's alright. Because being together is beyond wonderful, but in the end -we're- home. All of us. Like a puzzle and everyone has a piece to bring.
I won't be around again until Algebra II and other schools are finished.
See you all on the other side. ♥
~Hillary Mitchell/Enna Byrd
From the Hands of Hillary: Part 2
More workshop feels.
First of all, Mr. S had signed my notebook. Today I was sitting with it on my lap...I get up after a couple hours and Mr. S's (and Mrs. S's too actually) signature was imprinted on my leg.
Well. This is awkward.
In other new, Come Thou Fount just keeps running through my head over and over, mixed with Lovebug (Keely) and a variety of Disney songs. And it hurts.
I already miss that time of worship so much.
I have a big scrape on my foot from kneeling for so long on the concrete outside the Bell center.
I miss you guys. I miss you so much. I'm sorry to keep dumping feels.
But this is my last chance, at least for a while, to do it.
I'm so sad. Love y'all so much. I feel like I have this massive ache inside me that's way too big and way too small all at once.
I just. I want to be in an evening session right now, curled up next to Jacki, cracking hushed jokes and waiting restlessly to get outside and dance around under the stars.
But instead I'm at home. Hugging a pillow. Because pillows don't ask questions when you cry on them.
-Hillary Mitchell
First of all, Mr. S had signed my notebook. Today I was sitting with it on my lap...I get up after a couple hours and Mr. S's (and Mrs. S's too actually) signature was imprinted on my leg.
Well. This is awkward.
In other new, Come Thou Fount just keeps running through my head over and over, mixed with Lovebug (Keely) and a variety of Disney songs. And it hurts.
I already miss that time of worship so much.
I have a big scrape on my foot from kneeling for so long on the concrete outside the Bell center.
I miss you guys. I miss you so much. I'm sorry to keep dumping feels.
But this is my last chance, at least for a while, to do it.
I'm so sad. Love y'all so much. I feel like I have this massive ache inside me that's way too big and way too small all at once.
I just. I want to be in an evening session right now, curled up next to Jacki, cracking hushed jokes and waiting restlessly to get outside and dance around under the stars.
But instead I'm at home. Hugging a pillow. Because pillows don't ask questions when you cry on them.
-Hillary Mitchell
From the Hands of Hillary - Part 1
I don't know how to explain it. Summer Workshop was wonderful and terrible all at once.
It was wonderful because I got to meet (almost) all my bestest ever friends. [Samantha, Linnea, Marissa, Jessica, Jessie, Kate, Josh, Rebekah, Erynn, Bailey] It was wonderful because I made new friends. It was wonderful because I made new friends/further explored formerly shallow friendships [Becka and Benjamin, Abbie, Jonny, Jacki, Richard, Reuben, Gunnar, Jake and Beth, etc.](Most of whom aren't on Facebook BECAUSE THEY'RE DUMBBBBB)(Just kidding.)(Sort of.) It was wonderful because of critique groups and prayer meetings and being with other people of my own age who love Jesus as much as I do. It was wonderful because Amazing Grace sung by a large group of homeschoolers sounds really pretty when it echoes off the stars. It was wonderful because I actually managed to say a few vaguely witty things and got to hear people laugh.
It was terrible because I put up a lot of walls before I left home. Walls that I was determined to keep up so that people would adore me.
"I think I have this thing where everybody has to think I'm the greatest, the quote unquote 'Fantastic Mr. Fox', and if they aren't completely knocked out and dazzled and slightly intimidated by me, I don't feel good about myself."
It was terrible because all of that came crashing down when I couldn't keep it up long enough. When I got so stressed that people wouldn't or didn't like me that makeup had to be reapplied multiple times to cover tears.
It was terrible because I let myself be more vulnerable than I have been in ages. It was terrible because it -hurt- to do that.
And it was wonderful because that brought more peace than I've known in a long time.
It was wonderful because it was terrible.
Thank you all for making me be so very confusing and confused.
Whee. Brain = way dead.
I love you all like...a lot. A lot a lot. Okay?Okay.
Yay.
~Hillary Mitchell/Enna Byrd
It was wonderful because I got to meet (almost) all my bestest ever friends. [Samantha, Linnea, Marissa, Jessica, Jessie, Kate, Josh, Rebekah, Erynn, Bailey] It was wonderful because I made new friends. It was wonderful because I made new friends/further explored formerly shallow friendships [Becka and Benjamin, Abbie, Jonny, Jacki, Richard, Reuben, Gunnar, Jake and Beth, etc.](Most of whom aren't on Facebook BECAUSE THEY'RE DUMBBBBB)(Just kidding.)(Sort of.) It was wonderful because of critique groups and prayer meetings and being with other people of my own age who love Jesus as much as I do. It was wonderful because Amazing Grace sung by a large group of homeschoolers sounds really pretty when it echoes off the stars. It was wonderful because I actually managed to say a few vaguely witty things and got to hear people laugh.
It was terrible because I put up a lot of walls before I left home. Walls that I was determined to keep up so that people would adore me.
"I think I have this thing where everybody has to think I'm the greatest, the quote unquote 'Fantastic Mr. Fox', and if they aren't completely knocked out and dazzled and slightly intimidated by me, I don't feel good about myself."
It was terrible because all of that came crashing down when I couldn't keep it up long enough. When I got so stressed that people wouldn't or didn't like me that makeup had to be reapplied multiple times to cover tears.
It was terrible because I let myself be more vulnerable than I have been in ages. It was terrible because it -hurt- to do that.
And it was wonderful because that brought more peace than I've known in a long time.
It was wonderful because it was terrible.
Thank you all for making me be so very confusing and confused.
Whee. Brain = way dead.
I love you all like...a lot. A lot a lot. Okay?Okay.
Yay.
~Hillary Mitchell/Enna Byrd
Felicitations by Felicia:
Wow. You guys. You all are amazing. Seriously. You guys made this workshop experience unforgettable.
Even the small things are cherished: Watching Mr.S get glitter dumped on his head, Mrs.S being herself, All of the people who played music, Open Mic night, The Unbreakable Chain (seriously, say it with a Russian accent), The Critique group sessions *hugs entire critique group*, the food fights (I do not repent of this evil waste of food. >:D), cheering when someone took a drink on stage, stealing a quarter and a penny out of the treasure chest, acting in a skit, hanging out with all the awesome people, and plotting to steal a sock monkey from some lucky soul.
I cried when I left this year. Oyan is my home. I miss you guys. Really bad.
*buries face in oyan t-shirt* I will never wash this. It smells like Kansas.
~Felicia Juliano
Even the small things are cherished: Watching Mr.S get glitter dumped on his head, Mrs.S being herself, All of the people who played music, Open Mic night, The Unbreakable Chain (seriously, say it with a Russian accent), The Critique group sessions *hugs entire critique group*, the food fights (I do not repent of this evil waste of food. >:D), cheering when someone took a drink on stage, stealing a quarter and a penny out of the treasure chest, acting in a skit, hanging out with all the awesome people, and plotting to steal a sock monkey from some lucky soul.
I cried when I left this year. Oyan is my home. I miss you guys. Really bad.
*buries face in oyan t-shirt* I will never wash this. It smells like Kansas.
~Felicia Juliano
Magic from Miggo:
Dear OYAN:
Feel free to read this whenever you get a chance. I wrote it this morning after talking to some of your lovely faces yesterday and I just really wanted to give you all something to chew on.
Some days you'll feel an ache welling up beneath your skin and you feel this knot forming in your chest. Some nights the pain simply won't go away and you think to yourself that whoever coined that moniker, "night is always darkest before the dawn," had to be lying because the night is always darkest much, much earlier and sometimes the dawn is shrouded in nothing but clouds that hang low and heavy over the face of the sun. Sometimes, for no distinguishable reason, old hurts begin to hurt again and you can't explain the feeling. You can only accept the pain and keep on keeping on.
The worst part isn't the fact that you hurt, though. It's the fact that for so long, you've done it alone. And, yeah, it's begun to suck a little.
Then you came here, to home. You might have been without one so long that you don't even remember what home feels like, not as a physical place filled with real people, however. You've had snatches of this feeling before, in the yellow pages of your favorite book, in the draft coming up from a half empty cup of tea, in friends you used to spend every day with. But the books had endings, the tea ran out, and the friends always said goodbye, sometimes involuntarily.
It's no wonder you can't picture home.
What is home? It's a place, yes, but the place itself is not what makes a home. It's what you associate with that place. It could be the smell of your mother's pecan pies or the familiar scent of your old man's cologne. For some, it's the smell of a couple hundred sweaty and stinky kids dressed as ninjas and statues crammed into the same room together. Because these aren't just a random group of kids you met over the internet that you happened to interact with for shady purposes. Somehow, and you can't even pinpoint or remember a single instant when, this quirky little group became your family. And home is where you and your strange, little family cook up the memories.
OYAN is a special group in that it's attracted all sorts of people to the same place because of one very minuscule similarity: we all needed or wanted to take a writing curriculum. Often times, we forget that. Oh, right. OYAN, it's "just" this amazing curriculum written by a guy with cool facial hair. He sometimes hosts webinars with his wife who dresses up as a pirate and then there's this forum where you can post your chapters as you write them or argue about cheese. Oh, and the best part is that it shows you how to write a novel in a year!
Take a break and think about that a moment. Seriously, take a break and really think. Writing a novel in a year? So many men and women three times your age have decided to just get up and write a novel. What were you thinking? But you didn't just dream about to happen in another ten years. You actually did it. Maybe you had to drag your feet a bit, or your "mom made you do it," but you still made or are making it happen.
That, in of itself, is a beautiful thing.
But for some of us, OYAN has done the strangest thing and become a part of our lives in a way that your high school Algebra text book never could.
Now despite our one vague similarity, OYAN has a lot of other features that tie us together. Picture for a moment our understanding of the average OYANer: home-schooled, wearing hand me down pants or patchwork skirts, likely a Christian, and perhaps a little awkward socially.
Of course we also have the misfits. The ones who wear, God forbid, goth style clothing, have more than two piercings, don't like Christian books, and most certainly love metal over CCM.
And of course there are the other misfits and the old farts, but the old farts don't count.
I know despite our close relationships built through and in OYAN, that we haven't exactly always been the model or perfect American family (apologies to the Brit, Taiwanese, Canageese, Zealanders, etc., etc.). It's true, we haven't always been loving. We've excluded people, hurt people (sometimes intentionally), and have downright cruel to each other. And no, I'm not just referring to the random spats that we then further spat about whether they are flame wars or not.
That said, I realize that when I say home and OYAN in the same sentence, you might feel a little bitter. Maybe you're not the OYANer who found home here. Maybe instead it was a battleground. You might be sitting in a room watching everyone having the time of their lives and, damn it all, you're hurting and no one cares.
But we do.
Sometimes we're never going to agree about language in stories (why can't I use English?) and certain relationships fall apart and certain questions will always be asked (1st person???) and there's nothing you can do to change that. That's okay. We never were meant to be a perfect family. In fact, beneath the glomps and overuse of smileys, we're pretty broken. But that's what makes you guys beautiful. We aren't all here because we've got it all together. We're here because we don't. But ordinary, broken pieces of glass make an extraordinary mosaic. Even the weakest strands threaded together will make a rope not easily severed.
You entered OYAN like lambs, some of you lost, some you maybe a little more innocent, some you dragging a broken foot, some of you betrayed by the wolves, some of you becoming the wolves. But, you are lambs with the faces of lions. You have bitten back, learned to trust again, healed in your bones, opened your heart, found your way back home.
Oh, you're not quite there yet. We know. It takes a long time for the pain to fade, and sometimes the scars never do. But don't feel like you have to go it alone because you don't. We've proven that.
Whether it's in writing your novel down to the last seconds before the deadline (you know who you are), staying up until three in the morning to comfort a friend, or simply being there for your friend to hide the tears in while the rest of the world keeps spinning around. You do not have to do this alone. Because lions are known for their bravery, but lambs are never without their herd or their Shepard.
So enjoy your time with one another, cherish each other. Do not dread the times to come, because even though friends leave, family has a weird way of sitting in the heart. Reconnect with people you've drifted from, treasure those faces who have done so much even despite having never met you face to face before, reach out to someone new, talk to somehow who looks intimidating. None of them bite. Most of all, love each other.
I believe the theme of this year is Ordinary Heroes? You guys have been talking about some of the greatest literary examples: Frodo, Luke Skywalker, Scrooge, and a Garcia, I believe. They were all ordinary people with damaged pasts who had strange little quirks; in other words, a lot more similar to you than you realize. Frodo was an orphan, Luke had the dark emperor for a dad, Scrooge lost his love to money, Garcia had to face the giant of WW2.
I don't know if you have or will be talking about this particular character, but let me just say he's probably the biggest one. If you want ordinary, he was the epitome of ordinary. He did nothing but woodwork for thirty years and grew up in what was at the time one of the smallest, overlooked, unappreciated towns. He decides to shake the world and his reward at the end of it all is death. But if you look at his two greatest commandments, they don't say be great, or to be well versed, or to conquer the world. They simply command us to love.
For if we have any sort of gift or greatness or power, but not love, then what are we? We're just an ordinary teenage writing group full of broken people with our own strange little quirks.
And maybe that's just enough to build something on. Maybe that's just enough to shake a dark and lonely world. Hello there, world. Hear OYAN roar.
Yours very affectionately,
Miguel Flores
Feel free to read this whenever you get a chance. I wrote it this morning after talking to some of your lovely faces yesterday and I just really wanted to give you all something to chew on.
Some days you'll feel an ache welling up beneath your skin and you feel this knot forming in your chest. Some nights the pain simply won't go away and you think to yourself that whoever coined that moniker, "night is always darkest before the dawn," had to be lying because the night is always darkest much, much earlier and sometimes the dawn is shrouded in nothing but clouds that hang low and heavy over the face of the sun. Sometimes, for no distinguishable reason, old hurts begin to hurt again and you can't explain the feeling. You can only accept the pain and keep on keeping on.
The worst part isn't the fact that you hurt, though. It's the fact that for so long, you've done it alone. And, yeah, it's begun to suck a little.
Then you came here, to home. You might have been without one so long that you don't even remember what home feels like, not as a physical place filled with real people, however. You've had snatches of this feeling before, in the yellow pages of your favorite book, in the draft coming up from a half empty cup of tea, in friends you used to spend every day with. But the books had endings, the tea ran out, and the friends always said goodbye, sometimes involuntarily.
It's no wonder you can't picture home.
What is home? It's a place, yes, but the place itself is not what makes a home. It's what you associate with that place. It could be the smell of your mother's pecan pies or the familiar scent of your old man's cologne. For some, it's the smell of a couple hundred sweaty and stinky kids dressed as ninjas and statues crammed into the same room together. Because these aren't just a random group of kids you met over the internet that you happened to interact with for shady purposes. Somehow, and you can't even pinpoint or remember a single instant when, this quirky little group became your family. And home is where you and your strange, little family cook up the memories.
OYAN is a special group in that it's attracted all sorts of people to the same place because of one very minuscule similarity: we all needed or wanted to take a writing curriculum. Often times, we forget that. Oh, right. OYAN, it's "just" this amazing curriculum written by a guy with cool facial hair. He sometimes hosts webinars with his wife who dresses up as a pirate and then there's this forum where you can post your chapters as you write them or argue about cheese. Oh, and the best part is that it shows you how to write a novel in a year!
Take a break and think about that a moment. Seriously, take a break and really think. Writing a novel in a year? So many men and women three times your age have decided to just get up and write a novel. What were you thinking? But you didn't just dream about to happen in another ten years. You actually did it. Maybe you had to drag your feet a bit, or your "mom made you do it," but you still made or are making it happen.
That, in of itself, is a beautiful thing.
But for some of us, OYAN has done the strangest thing and become a part of our lives in a way that your high school Algebra text book never could.
Now despite our one vague similarity, OYAN has a lot of other features that tie us together. Picture for a moment our understanding of the average OYANer: home-schooled, wearing hand me down pants or patchwork skirts, likely a Christian, and perhaps a little awkward socially.
Of course we also have the misfits. The ones who wear, God forbid, goth style clothing, have more than two piercings, don't like Christian books, and most certainly love metal over CCM.
And of course there are the other misfits and the old farts, but the old farts don't count.
I know despite our close relationships built through and in OYAN, that we haven't exactly always been the model or perfect American family (apologies to the Brit, Taiwanese, Canageese, Zealanders, etc., etc.). It's true, we haven't always been loving. We've excluded people, hurt people (sometimes intentionally), and have downright cruel to each other. And no, I'm not just referring to the random spats that we then further spat about whether they are flame wars or not.
That said, I realize that when I say home and OYAN in the same sentence, you might feel a little bitter. Maybe you're not the OYANer who found home here. Maybe instead it was a battleground. You might be sitting in a room watching everyone having the time of their lives and, damn it all, you're hurting and no one cares.
But we do.
Sometimes we're never going to agree about language in stories (why can't I use English?) and certain relationships fall apart and certain questions will always be asked (1st person???) and there's nothing you can do to change that. That's okay. We never were meant to be a perfect family. In fact, beneath the glomps and overuse of smileys, we're pretty broken. But that's what makes you guys beautiful. We aren't all here because we've got it all together. We're here because we don't. But ordinary, broken pieces of glass make an extraordinary mosaic. Even the weakest strands threaded together will make a rope not easily severed.
You entered OYAN like lambs, some of you lost, some you maybe a little more innocent, some you dragging a broken foot, some of you betrayed by the wolves, some of you becoming the wolves. But, you are lambs with the faces of lions. You have bitten back, learned to trust again, healed in your bones, opened your heart, found your way back home.
Oh, you're not quite there yet. We know. It takes a long time for the pain to fade, and sometimes the scars never do. But don't feel like you have to go it alone because you don't. We've proven that.
Whether it's in writing your novel down to the last seconds before the deadline (you know who you are), staying up until three in the morning to comfort a friend, or simply being there for your friend to hide the tears in while the rest of the world keeps spinning around. You do not have to do this alone. Because lions are known for their bravery, but lambs are never without their herd or their Shepard.
So enjoy your time with one another, cherish each other. Do not dread the times to come, because even though friends leave, family has a weird way of sitting in the heart. Reconnect with people you've drifted from, treasure those faces who have done so much even despite having never met you face to face before, reach out to someone new, talk to somehow who looks intimidating. None of them bite. Most of all, love each other.
I believe the theme of this year is Ordinary Heroes? You guys have been talking about some of the greatest literary examples: Frodo, Luke Skywalker, Scrooge, and a Garcia, I believe. They were all ordinary people with damaged pasts who had strange little quirks; in other words, a lot more similar to you than you realize. Frodo was an orphan, Luke had the dark emperor for a dad, Scrooge lost his love to money, Garcia had to face the giant of WW2.
I don't know if you have or will be talking about this particular character, but let me just say he's probably the biggest one. If you want ordinary, he was the epitome of ordinary. He did nothing but woodwork for thirty years and grew up in what was at the time one of the smallest, overlooked, unappreciated towns. He decides to shake the world and his reward at the end of it all is death. But if you look at his two greatest commandments, they don't say be great, or to be well versed, or to conquer the world. They simply command us to love.
For if we have any sort of gift or greatness or power, but not love, then what are we? We're just an ordinary teenage writing group full of broken people with our own strange little quirks.
And maybe that's just enough to build something on. Maybe that's just enough to shake a dark and lonely world. Hello there, world. Hear OYAN roar.
Yours very affectionately,
Miguel Flores
Musings from Matthew:
Okay, here it comes...my late-night thoughts that I wrote up and couldn't bring myself to share in person. Here's my take on the workshop. I know it's different. I'm glad so many of you had such a perfect time. But life isn't always perfect.
----------------------------------------
Sometimes things need to be said that nobody is saying.
This year was different, for me at least. I haven’t changed much in the past year, but everything around me changed, several times, and abruptly. For a high-functioning autistic person with OCD and social anxiety disorder, change like that is very upsetting.
Since I don’t feel like I belong anywhere, I’ve become part of the outcast group. You know, the group where you find the troublemakers, the non-Christians, the dark writers who actually write about things that happen all the time in the real world. The less-than-perfect recipients of ignorant judgment. And you know what? Every single one of them is an amazing, beautiful person.
There’s a lack of love here. And I’m sure most of you think I’m crazy, of course there’s a lot of love here. But is love really love if it’s conditional? There’s more love here than many other places but it is still lacking and that’s something we cannot ignore. A community that supposes itself to be a wonderful, loving environment must hold itself to a higher standard…or be torn apart.
I’ve heard people talking about other people behind their backs. I’ve seen kids in tears because of something another person said, and others barely holding together while trying to comfort them. The most caring friends I have here have been described in rather harsh terms by other people who don’t understand them.
Some of you may not have any idea what is going on. Maybe you’ll go home and write overly dramatic accounts of your time here, making it sound like a sort of sleep-deprived heaven where nothing can go wrong. Maybe you know, but you choose to ignore it. Or maybe you know and care but don’t know how to help.
Whatever the reason, love isn’t love if you simply care about a person but reject them for being too different or too depressed or too dark or too difficult. It isn’t love to speak against someone’s beliefs or experiences without first making sure you understand what you’re talking about. After all:
“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”
It’s easier to work with assumptions and reject people you don’t like, than to actually get to know them, and understand who they are and why they do what they do.
Loving is difficult because understanding is difficult.
Let me point out that “understand” is comprised of the words “under” and “stand”. You’re not standing above looking down at an object and studying it so you know how to use it, or how to fix it. To understand means to put yourself beneath something, to be willing to learn from it. You can be under someone as a student or as a support, but either way you have to treat them as more important than yourself.
I don’t know if my little ramble will have any effect. What I’d like to see is a little more effort put into understanding people who think differently, speak differently, and live differently, instead of just forming a majority group of like-minded people and silencing the dark anomalies. Y’all are such beautiful, messed-up people, and I love you. So if you give a damn, get off your ass and learn to really love people regardless of how they speak or what they believe.
~Matthew Lauser
----------------------------------------
Sometimes things need to be said that nobody is saying.
This year was different, for me at least. I haven’t changed much in the past year, but everything around me changed, several times, and abruptly. For a high-functioning autistic person with OCD and social anxiety disorder, change like that is very upsetting.
Since I don’t feel like I belong anywhere, I’ve become part of the outcast group. You know, the group where you find the troublemakers, the non-Christians, the dark writers who actually write about things that happen all the time in the real world. The less-than-perfect recipients of ignorant judgment. And you know what? Every single one of them is an amazing, beautiful person.
There’s a lack of love here. And I’m sure most of you think I’m crazy, of course there’s a lot of love here. But is love really love if it’s conditional? There’s more love here than many other places but it is still lacking and that’s something we cannot ignore. A community that supposes itself to be a wonderful, loving environment must hold itself to a higher standard…or be torn apart.
I’ve heard people talking about other people behind their backs. I’ve seen kids in tears because of something another person said, and others barely holding together while trying to comfort them. The most caring friends I have here have been described in rather harsh terms by other people who don’t understand them.
Some of you may not have any idea what is going on. Maybe you’ll go home and write overly dramatic accounts of your time here, making it sound like a sort of sleep-deprived heaven where nothing can go wrong. Maybe you know, but you choose to ignore it. Or maybe you know and care but don’t know how to help.
Whatever the reason, love isn’t love if you simply care about a person but reject them for being too different or too depressed or too dark or too difficult. It isn’t love to speak against someone’s beliefs or experiences without first making sure you understand what you’re talking about. After all:
“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”
It’s easier to work with assumptions and reject people you don’t like, than to actually get to know them, and understand who they are and why they do what they do.
Loving is difficult because understanding is difficult.
Let me point out that “understand” is comprised of the words “under” and “stand”. You’re not standing above looking down at an object and studying it so you know how to use it, or how to fix it. To understand means to put yourself beneath something, to be willing to learn from it. You can be under someone as a student or as a support, but either way you have to treat them as more important than yourself.
I don’t know if my little ramble will have any effect. What I’d like to see is a little more effort put into understanding people who think differently, speak differently, and live differently, instead of just forming a majority group of like-minded people and silencing the dark anomalies. Y’all are such beautiful, messed-up people, and I love you. So if you give a damn, get off your ass and learn to really love people regardless of how they speak or what they believe.
~Matthew Lauser
No Jests from Josh (Part 2):
Okay. So. I know I already made a post, and I know a bunch of you already read it, but I really feel like I need to get it out of my head more. This is the only type of writing I can do, and will ever be able to do, which is explaining my thoughts into words. I'm going to try to write as if I'm writing to someone who hasn't been to the SW, which is what i've been trying to do all day. Sorry for spamming the group.
Three years ago, my mom bought this writing curriculum. I didn't want to do it. I hated writing. I had no interest in writing a novel. I couldn't care less. As we were opening the box, there was something in there about a students forum. I thought "Hey cool! I like forums." So I joined them.
And that's when it all started.
I joined the forum. The first person to welcome me was Eric Johnson. I continued to get more and more welcomes. It was cool. People are nice here. I started stuff around the forum, and I got involved. I started the curriculum. My story idea was choppy for awhile, but I pressed on and continued. I took a break from doing lessons for awhile, I don't know why. But I kept doing the forum. I really enjoyed the people there, and I loved talking to people even though they were writers and I wasnt.
A year later, this thing called the "Summer Workshop" came up. I didn't know what it was. I thought it was just this thing where you go and do writing stuff and then come home. When it was over, however, I saw people posting about how sad they were. I saw how they seemed to really like it. Huh. That got me thinking. I saw in the forum there was a topic for these signed pages things so I signed up for the heck of it. A few weeks later, I received in the mail a giant book full of signatures of people that had been there. Wow. They say things like "miss you want you here"
People on the internet are real. They seem cool. Woah.
Next year, it happened again. More signed pages. More signatures. More friends. Wow.
Sometime around then, I had to finish my novel. With the help of a lot of people, I proudly finished my OYAN, not even caring about how short it was. I had done it. Me, a non writer, and just written a novel. Woah. I did it.
That year's SW was probably the hardest to go through. That year, I had finished my novel. I had knew what it was. But I still thought of it as a stupid writing conference that would bore me out of my skull if I went. Sure, there might be cool people, but WRITING. OH LORD HOW COULD I STAND IT. It happened again. The statuses about withdrawal. THe sadness. I thought again.
Somewhere around that time Mrs. S asked me to help moderate a few boards on the forum. I accepted, and continued to make more friends, and continued to become more involved in the community. Sometime around December or January, I finally expressed my interest in the SW to my mom, which I thought was against my better judgement. We talked about it for awhile, and decided that it would be a cool thing to do, but we weren't sure yet. I don't know. I continued to make really awesome friends and be active as a semi moderator in the community.
Then, everything changed when the fire nation attacked.
Okay not really. But something happened that would change this story forever. Someone noticed my contributions to the forum. Someone noticed that I was actually a part of the forum. Someone noticed. Because of that someone, attending the SW was no longer a large problem financially. So there it is guys. I wouldn't go if it wasn't for that. That's my secret. I wouldn't have gone if it hadn't been for that. Because of that moment, I knew this was my year. I had to do it.
I told my parents about it. We talked more about it. After a few days of mulling it over, they said yes. I was going to the SW. I couldn't believe it. Was this a good decision? Until the day I arrived at the SW, I seconded guessed my decision. Was it a good idea? Would I really enjoy this?
In the weeks leading up to the SW, I talked to a great many of you about it. I am so sorry for not believing you when you said it was a really awesome week. You guys said it was epicness defined. You guys said it was the best week ever. But I still second guessed. How could a conference about writing be so awesome? Wouldn't it get boring for me while I was there? Even up at that point, I still thought of it as some stupid writing conference but hey at least I get to meet cool people.
A month left. I wasn't thinking about it. I was too focused on graduation.
Two weeks left. Graduation consumed my thoughts.
One week. I was thinking about it. What if people didn't like me? What if I didnt' like it?
One day. This was it. I was going through it with. I was about to board a plane to the so called epic epicness. It was surreal. For three years I had heard about this. I was finally going.
The day of. So nervous. I'm on the plane. So nervous. I get there. Still nervous.
First OYANer sighting. Meghan LeBedz Ashlynne Kirkpatrick
Wow. They. Um. They're real. OYANers exist outside of a computer screen. I sat there. For the full 5 hours at the airport, I had no idea what to say. Probably because everyone there had had a super early flight and was in no mood to talk or discuss anything.
The shuttle finally got there. Woah. I'm almost there. We pull into the bell center. OYANers everywhere. Familiar faces. First person I say hi to is Mb Grasha. Hi.
Somehow I'm able to walk into the bell center. WHAT. ALL YOU. GUYS. I'm overwhelmed at everyone here. I can't believe it. No idea where to start. What am I doing. People start coming up to say hello. I don't' know who said hello next. I think it might have been Ellipsis Period.
I checked in. I went to my dorm. I put my stuff. As I put my stuff there, I thought to myself and wondered what the heck I was doing. Did I do the right thing?
I hung around in the bell center for a little longer, then I finally made it to the gym for dinner. Woah. I was actually here. I was actually meeting you guys. I can't believe it. I don't remember who I sat with while I ate, I think it was Eric Johnson and dirk.
I walked up and just walked around the place for awhile, and then I sat down with dots and Leinad O'neil. Talked for a bit. I don't remember what happened after that. I continued meeting so many of you.
The next day was weird. I woke up. The first thing I thought was "I'm actually here. No way." So I continued the day, sitting through sessions and stuff. Critique groups. UGH. How do I get through four hours of listening to this. I didn't do hardly anything for the first excerpt, but somehow, as time went on, I started to semi enjoy it. Sure, I didn't like listening to all the stuff about improving and revising novels. Whatever. I can sit through it. BUt I did make comments and stuff. yeah. I made it through each day not contributing THAT much, but apparently enough for my group to recognize that I hated writing and was still contributing. :P
What next? I had met just about everyone, and all that. I was having an amazing time. I was hanging out with awesome people, and having a blast. I had forgotten all the crap I had due. I forgot about all the stuff I had been worried sick about for so long. My social life didn't suck, but going to the SW helped me so much to relieve me a week of my stress and work. for one week, I was able to relax and just have fun talking to some of my best friends.
Fast forward to the last day. Wow. It's over. No. It can't be. Already? But it's been so soon. I love everyone too much for it to be over already. Please don't let it be over. I have friends outside of OYAN that are awesome, but it can't be over already. It's only just begun. It's so surreal. I made it through the final sessions fine, but the last session. Mr. S compared OYAN and the SW to rivendell. (Forgive me here, I'm paraphrasing) He talked about how we're a home to some, a refuge for others. Mr. S talked about wanting to share and give this creativity and healing to others. He gave his vision for the Hobbit holes. How can he accomplish such a staggering feet? He can't. We can't. Not without God.
This moment, I realized what OYAN really was. WHat it was really about. Not a group of people I talk to on the internet, not a group of writers obsessed with shipping fictional characters. Not a group of Christians. We're all that, but we're more. We're a group of people, not just here by chance, but I believe that we're all here because of God. When that curriculum came in the mail, we became a part of something, a part of something that has done amazing things, and is not finished.
We're a group of people who love each other, who are accepting, who will care so much about everyone, no matter who they are, who will show the love of Christ to everyone. That's what OYAN is. We just happen to all be writers.
That's what I got from Mr. S's final talk. We can't do it alone. That's what he said. But the S's still believe that someway, somehow, it's meant to be. How will it happen? We don't know. God does. If God's meant it to be, it'll happen.
The last session finally ended. Woah. That was. Woah. Really? I can't even begin to comprehend anything at this point. I walk out of the bell center, and everyone's crying. It's over. No more sessions, no more meals, no more anything. Just a final three hours to hang out with some of the best people anyone's ever met. But before those three hours began, a bunch of us met outside in front of the bell center to pray over what Mr. S had just said. After about 10 or 15 minutes of praying and singing, Mr. S walks out. Someone calls for him to stand in the middle. The next 15 minutes are spent praying over Mr. S, the community, and the future of everything. It was in that moment that I actually shed a tear. I've never done that before. You guys really moved me. God moved me. I've never had that happen before out of the countless teary situations I've been in.
I left the prayer group and go back to the tipping lounge. I had just witnessed one of the most amazing things ever, and i"ll thank God every day for it. I spent the rest of my evening saying final goodbyes and hanging out listening to Mr. S tell stories in the lounge. Around 12:45, I finally made it back to my dorm. It was over. Dozens of long conversations, dozens of amazing people, dozens of hugs, and so many novels read through. It was finally over. I spent the next hour and a half in my dorm mulling over it all, listening to music, and praying, and checking facebook and the forum. It had been an amazing time, but it was finally over.
Checked out. At the airport. Going home. Cry. Sad. Goodbye hugs. It's over.
I've been changed. I don't even know if this 2000 word wall has even begun to explain the depth of what I've been through this week. I love all you guys so much.
I've made some amazing friends, and strengthened some friendships that previously only existed on the internet.
Yes, we have disagreements, yes, things happen, but that doesn't change who we are. Everyone makes mistakes. Every group has their downsides. But you know what? The SW was the only time in my life where I've been in a group that size and not felt completely overwhelmed. It's so different. I don't know how to explain it.
Don't forget who you are guys, don't forget who WE are. I love all of you so much and I've spent the entire day talking to all of you about how much I miss you. Thanks for making this week one of the best weeks of my life. I hope this post has somehow explained what's been in my head all day, I wouldn't have been able to sleep without it. Goodnight, and I love you all. God's got some amazing things in store for us and the S's.
Josh
Three years ago, my mom bought this writing curriculum. I didn't want to do it. I hated writing. I had no interest in writing a novel. I couldn't care less. As we were opening the box, there was something in there about a students forum. I thought "Hey cool! I like forums." So I joined them.
And that's when it all started.
I joined the forum. The first person to welcome me was Eric Johnson. I continued to get more and more welcomes. It was cool. People are nice here. I started stuff around the forum, and I got involved. I started the curriculum. My story idea was choppy for awhile, but I pressed on and continued. I took a break from doing lessons for awhile, I don't know why. But I kept doing the forum. I really enjoyed the people there, and I loved talking to people even though they were writers and I wasnt.
A year later, this thing called the "Summer Workshop" came up. I didn't know what it was. I thought it was just this thing where you go and do writing stuff and then come home. When it was over, however, I saw people posting about how sad they were. I saw how they seemed to really like it. Huh. That got me thinking. I saw in the forum there was a topic for these signed pages things so I signed up for the heck of it. A few weeks later, I received in the mail a giant book full of signatures of people that had been there. Wow. They say things like "miss you want you here"
People on the internet are real. They seem cool. Woah.
Next year, it happened again. More signed pages. More signatures. More friends. Wow.
Sometime around then, I had to finish my novel. With the help of a lot of people, I proudly finished my OYAN, not even caring about how short it was. I had done it. Me, a non writer, and just written a novel. Woah. I did it.
That year's SW was probably the hardest to go through. That year, I had finished my novel. I had knew what it was. But I still thought of it as a stupid writing conference that would bore me out of my skull if I went. Sure, there might be cool people, but WRITING. OH LORD HOW COULD I STAND IT. It happened again. The statuses about withdrawal. THe sadness. I thought again.
Somewhere around that time Mrs. S asked me to help moderate a few boards on the forum. I accepted, and continued to make more friends, and continued to become more involved in the community. Sometime around December or January, I finally expressed my interest in the SW to my mom, which I thought was against my better judgement. We talked about it for awhile, and decided that it would be a cool thing to do, but we weren't sure yet. I don't know. I continued to make really awesome friends and be active as a semi moderator in the community.
Then, everything changed when the fire nation attacked.
Okay not really. But something happened that would change this story forever. Someone noticed my contributions to the forum. Someone noticed that I was actually a part of the forum. Someone noticed. Because of that someone, attending the SW was no longer a large problem financially. So there it is guys. I wouldn't go if it wasn't for that. That's my secret. I wouldn't have gone if it hadn't been for that. Because of that moment, I knew this was my year. I had to do it.
I told my parents about it. We talked more about it. After a few days of mulling it over, they said yes. I was going to the SW. I couldn't believe it. Was this a good decision? Until the day I arrived at the SW, I seconded guessed my decision. Was it a good idea? Would I really enjoy this?
In the weeks leading up to the SW, I talked to a great many of you about it. I am so sorry for not believing you when you said it was a really awesome week. You guys said it was epicness defined. You guys said it was the best week ever. But I still second guessed. How could a conference about writing be so awesome? Wouldn't it get boring for me while I was there? Even up at that point, I still thought of it as some stupid writing conference but hey at least I get to meet cool people.
A month left. I wasn't thinking about it. I was too focused on graduation.
Two weeks left. Graduation consumed my thoughts.
One week. I was thinking about it. What if people didn't like me? What if I didnt' like it?
One day. This was it. I was going through it with. I was about to board a plane to the so called epic epicness. It was surreal. For three years I had heard about this. I was finally going.
The day of. So nervous. I'm on the plane. So nervous. I get there. Still nervous.
First OYANer sighting. Meghan LeBedz Ashlynne Kirkpatrick
Wow. They. Um. They're real. OYANers exist outside of a computer screen. I sat there. For the full 5 hours at the airport, I had no idea what to say. Probably because everyone there had had a super early flight and was in no mood to talk or discuss anything.
The shuttle finally got there. Woah. I'm almost there. We pull into the bell center. OYANers everywhere. Familiar faces. First person I say hi to is Mb Grasha. Hi.
Somehow I'm able to walk into the bell center. WHAT. ALL YOU. GUYS. I'm overwhelmed at everyone here. I can't believe it. No idea where to start. What am I doing. People start coming up to say hello. I don't' know who said hello next. I think it might have been Ellipsis Period.
I checked in. I went to my dorm. I put my stuff. As I put my stuff there, I thought to myself and wondered what the heck I was doing. Did I do the right thing?
I hung around in the bell center for a little longer, then I finally made it to the gym for dinner. Woah. I was actually here. I was actually meeting you guys. I can't believe it. I don't remember who I sat with while I ate, I think it was Eric Johnson and dirk.
I walked up and just walked around the place for awhile, and then I sat down with dots and Leinad O'neil. Talked for a bit. I don't remember what happened after that. I continued meeting so many of you.
The next day was weird. I woke up. The first thing I thought was "I'm actually here. No way." So I continued the day, sitting through sessions and stuff. Critique groups. UGH. How do I get through four hours of listening to this. I didn't do hardly anything for the first excerpt, but somehow, as time went on, I started to semi enjoy it. Sure, I didn't like listening to all the stuff about improving and revising novels. Whatever. I can sit through it. BUt I did make comments and stuff. yeah. I made it through each day not contributing THAT much, but apparently enough for my group to recognize that I hated writing and was still contributing. :P
What next? I had met just about everyone, and all that. I was having an amazing time. I was hanging out with awesome people, and having a blast. I had forgotten all the crap I had due. I forgot about all the stuff I had been worried sick about for so long. My social life didn't suck, but going to the SW helped me so much to relieve me a week of my stress and work. for one week, I was able to relax and just have fun talking to some of my best friends.
Fast forward to the last day. Wow. It's over. No. It can't be. Already? But it's been so soon. I love everyone too much for it to be over already. Please don't let it be over. I have friends outside of OYAN that are awesome, but it can't be over already. It's only just begun. It's so surreal. I made it through the final sessions fine, but the last session. Mr. S compared OYAN and the SW to rivendell. (Forgive me here, I'm paraphrasing) He talked about how we're a home to some, a refuge for others. Mr. S talked about wanting to share and give this creativity and healing to others. He gave his vision for the Hobbit holes. How can he accomplish such a staggering feet? He can't. We can't. Not without God.
This moment, I realized what OYAN really was. WHat it was really about. Not a group of people I talk to on the internet, not a group of writers obsessed with shipping fictional characters. Not a group of Christians. We're all that, but we're more. We're a group of people, not just here by chance, but I believe that we're all here because of God. When that curriculum came in the mail, we became a part of something, a part of something that has done amazing things, and is not finished.
We're a group of people who love each other, who are accepting, who will care so much about everyone, no matter who they are, who will show the love of Christ to everyone. That's what OYAN is. We just happen to all be writers.
That's what I got from Mr. S's final talk. We can't do it alone. That's what he said. But the S's still believe that someway, somehow, it's meant to be. How will it happen? We don't know. God does. If God's meant it to be, it'll happen.
The last session finally ended. Woah. That was. Woah. Really? I can't even begin to comprehend anything at this point. I walk out of the bell center, and everyone's crying. It's over. No more sessions, no more meals, no more anything. Just a final three hours to hang out with some of the best people anyone's ever met. But before those three hours began, a bunch of us met outside in front of the bell center to pray over what Mr. S had just said. After about 10 or 15 minutes of praying and singing, Mr. S walks out. Someone calls for him to stand in the middle. The next 15 minutes are spent praying over Mr. S, the community, and the future of everything. It was in that moment that I actually shed a tear. I've never done that before. You guys really moved me. God moved me. I've never had that happen before out of the countless teary situations I've been in.
I left the prayer group and go back to the tipping lounge. I had just witnessed one of the most amazing things ever, and i"ll thank God every day for it. I spent the rest of my evening saying final goodbyes and hanging out listening to Mr. S tell stories in the lounge. Around 12:45, I finally made it back to my dorm. It was over. Dozens of long conversations, dozens of amazing people, dozens of hugs, and so many novels read through. It was finally over. I spent the next hour and a half in my dorm mulling over it all, listening to music, and praying, and checking facebook and the forum. It had been an amazing time, but it was finally over.
Checked out. At the airport. Going home. Cry. Sad. Goodbye hugs. It's over.
I've been changed. I don't even know if this 2000 word wall has even begun to explain the depth of what I've been through this week. I love all you guys so much.
I've made some amazing friends, and strengthened some friendships that previously only existed on the internet.
Yes, we have disagreements, yes, things happen, but that doesn't change who we are. Everyone makes mistakes. Every group has their downsides. But you know what? The SW was the only time in my life where I've been in a group that size and not felt completely overwhelmed. It's so different. I don't know how to explain it.
Don't forget who you are guys, don't forget who WE are. I love all of you so much and I've spent the entire day talking to all of you about how much I miss you. Thanks for making this week one of the best weeks of my life. I hope this post has somehow explained what's been in my head all day, I wouldn't have been able to sleep without it. Goodnight, and I love you all. God's got some amazing things in store for us and the S's.
Josh
No Jests from Josh (Part 1):
Wow. What an amazing week this has been. I was so nervous to Begin this week but as I'm sitting on the plane writing this I'm feeling so sad. I'm not good with words so I have no idea how much sense this thing is gonna make.
I love you guys. So much. I mean, I had nice conversations with you guys on Facebook and stuff before met you guys but wow. I walked into the bell center Monday and I was overwhelmed by the mount of familiar faces. I had no idea what to do. Thankfully, some of you guys noticed my awkwardness and introduced yourselves and t just kinda went from there.
Sitting through the sessions was difficult, but not unbearable. I don't like writing. I couldn't care less about how to edit a story or how to create a world. But it was still amazing. I loved sitting and talking with so many of you. I'm sorry I didn't get to hang out with everyone as much as I wanted to.
I understand it all now. I understand why the sw is held in such high regard. Wait. That's an understatement. This was without a doubt one of the greatest weeks I've ever had. I miss you all so much.
Thanks to everyone in my critique group for putting up with me,I know I didn't have anything to bring and my feedback was basically me just agreeing with others and nothing grammatical errors.
You guys are different. I've never been in any group like it. And it isn't because you're homeschoolers. (Most of you). You're oyaners. You make me feel so great. I talked with some of you for hours, some for ten minutes. I loved all of it.
The first day? The speaker talked about describing OYAN. Everyone laughed. It's true. How can you describe us? I don't know.
Yes, all of us argue over the internet. It happens. But I just...feel like my thoughts on all that changed when I went to the SW. I mean...I had never met any of you in real life...Just...I don't know. I love all of you (I've said this so much) and even though we have our differences, we still love each other and we can do great things.
No, this is not a stereotypical "hurr durr we r disgrr but we cn du gr8 things cuz god"
It isn't. It's truly how I feel. I've met so many of you know. I believe that's something I can say with truth now because IRL is so much different than houston.
I'm sitting in my room now wondering how to explain to my parents what I did this week. No one but you guys understand how awesome this week was. How do I explain to people that I went to a week long conference when I hate writing? How do I tell people the amazing things I talked about and did this week? You guys understand. Hopefully I can come up with some explanation to my parents about why this week was so freaking awesome.
Last night when we all prayed over Mr. S was unreal. It was awesome. I believe that God has done great things through us. I don't think he's quite done yet. I love all of you more than I can ever hope to express properly individually or in my limited skills writing. You guys mean so much to me and attending was the best thing I've ever done. I have so much to say that'll probably come out over the next few weeks. Oyan forever.
Josh/JDG
I love you guys. So much. I mean, I had nice conversations with you guys on Facebook and stuff before met you guys but wow. I walked into the bell center Monday and I was overwhelmed by the mount of familiar faces. I had no idea what to do. Thankfully, some of you guys noticed my awkwardness and introduced yourselves and t just kinda went from there.
Sitting through the sessions was difficult, but not unbearable. I don't like writing. I couldn't care less about how to edit a story or how to create a world. But it was still amazing. I loved sitting and talking with so many of you. I'm sorry I didn't get to hang out with everyone as much as I wanted to.
I understand it all now. I understand why the sw is held in such high regard. Wait. That's an understatement. This was without a doubt one of the greatest weeks I've ever had. I miss you all so much.
Thanks to everyone in my critique group for putting up with me,I know I didn't have anything to bring and my feedback was basically me just agreeing with others and nothing grammatical errors.
You guys are different. I've never been in any group like it. And it isn't because you're homeschoolers. (Most of you). You're oyaners. You make me feel so great. I talked with some of you for hours, some for ten minutes. I loved all of it.
The first day? The speaker talked about describing OYAN. Everyone laughed. It's true. How can you describe us? I don't know.
Yes, all of us argue over the internet. It happens. But I just...feel like my thoughts on all that changed when I went to the SW. I mean...I had never met any of you in real life...Just...I don't know. I love all of you (I've said this so much) and even though we have our differences, we still love each other and we can do great things.
No, this is not a stereotypical "hurr durr we r disgrr but we cn du gr8 things cuz god"
It isn't. It's truly how I feel. I've met so many of you know. I believe that's something I can say with truth now because IRL is so much different than houston.
I'm sitting in my room now wondering how to explain to my parents what I did this week. No one but you guys understand how awesome this week was. How do I explain to people that I went to a week long conference when I hate writing? How do I tell people the amazing things I talked about and did this week? You guys understand. Hopefully I can come up with some explanation to my parents about why this week was so freaking awesome.
Last night when we all prayed over Mr. S was unreal. It was awesome. I believe that God has done great things through us. I don't think he's quite done yet. I love all of you more than I can ever hope to express properly individually or in my limited skills writing. You guys mean so much to me and attending was the best thing I've ever done. I have so much to say that'll probably come out over the next few weeks. Oyan forever.
Josh/JDG
From the Awe of Irie:
Wow. Wow. Wow. I just. I just can't even believe. Like. Anything at the moment. I was so scared - I had such high expectations for the SW. I was sure none would come true. I was sure I'd be the girl standing awkwardly in the corner, watching everyone, like I am most everywhere else. But I wasn't. Because, you see, at normal places, the conversations goes:
"Hi! I'm Irie!"
"I'm *insert name.* What do you like to do?"
"Ummm.... write stories... And watch Doctor Who... and read classic literature..."
"Oh."
*awkward silence*
At the SW? I talked with so many awesome people. And I could talk to all of them, for, like, hours, about all my favorite things. And it was awesome beyond awesome. And. I still can't really process that I was even there.
THE SESSIONS. They was so wonderful. I just can't believe it. I am so encouraged, and ready to tackle editing my novel - something I've never done before. And the best part is, I only got like... two random plot bunnies. The rest of the inspiration applied directly to my current novel.
MY CRITIQUE GROUP WAS SO AWESOME. It's the first time I've ever had anything really critiqued. And now I am so excited to start fixing my novel.
I won't miss Kansas. Sorry. Way too hot and humid. I almost died while trying to find my dorm room on the first day. I actually did a little dance when I stepped out into the wonderful 65 degree weather back home this evening :D
I almost cried last night. Because, so many people, so many friendly, nice people all together doing writer things and I was going home the next day and I wouldn't see them again for so long... but then I realized it's not the end. I'm not sad anymore. It's not "over." I've been more encouraged than ever before. Now that I've seen you, OYAN is so much more "real" to me. I see all of us - young writers - and I know I'm not alone.
So. This was longer than I planned. Oh well. To sum it up in one sentence: This past week was the best of my life. Thank you OYAN.
And now I'm off to sleep. And edit. And tell my friends about all the epicness and hope they join OYAN too :D
~Irie Odessa
"Hi! I'm Irie!"
"I'm *insert name.* What do you like to do?"
"Ummm.... write stories... And watch Doctor Who... and read classic literature..."
"Oh."
*awkward silence*
At the SW? I talked with so many awesome people. And I could talk to all of them, for, like, hours, about all my favorite things. And it was awesome beyond awesome. And. I still can't really process that I was even there.
THE SESSIONS. They was so wonderful. I just can't believe it. I am so encouraged, and ready to tackle editing my novel - something I've never done before. And the best part is, I only got like... two random plot bunnies. The rest of the inspiration applied directly to my current novel.
MY CRITIQUE GROUP WAS SO AWESOME. It's the first time I've ever had anything really critiqued. And now I am so excited to start fixing my novel.
I won't miss Kansas. Sorry. Way too hot and humid. I almost died while trying to find my dorm room on the first day. I actually did a little dance when I stepped out into the wonderful 65 degree weather back home this evening :D
I almost cried last night. Because, so many people, so many friendly, nice people all together doing writer things and I was going home the next day and I wouldn't see them again for so long... but then I realized it's not the end. I'm not sad anymore. It's not "over." I've been more encouraged than ever before. Now that I've seen you, OYAN is so much more "real" to me. I see all of us - young writers - and I know I'm not alone.
So. This was longer than I planned. Oh well. To sum it up in one sentence: This past week was the best of my life. Thank you OYAN.
And now I'm off to sleep. And edit. And tell my friends about all the epicness and hope they join OYAN too :D
~Irie Odessa
From the Dreams of Jerah:
This year was my third workshop, yet this will be my first post-workshop rant. I’ve never been able to find the right words to describe how wonderful and life-changing the workshop is, and I doubt I’ll be able to find them now, but I’ll do my best. The real struggle will be typing this all up without bawling.
When I first arrived this year, I was shaking with anticipation of the awesomeness that was to come. But I couldn’t have known how different this year was going to be. I’m still not sure if I’ll ever know exactly what made this year so different, so… special. It might be the combination of many different things. This year, a lot more new people came, including many of my friends who I had never met in real life before. Also, several people told me that I had changed. Maybe that was one of the things that made everything so different for me. I looked at things differently this year. I valued it more than I had before, and I didn’t want it to end.
I didn’t participate much in the prayer group, and when I did I usually only joined in on the last fifteen minutes or so. But nowhere else have I ever felt the presence of God stronger. On my way back to the dorms one night I stopped by the prayer group and Jonny led everyone in the song “How He Loves Us.” Now, I’m not one to cry over songs. I have never cried over a song before. But when we all finished singing I felt tears stinging my eyes. Singing this song with my friends and feeling how close God was at that moment was overwhelming.
The week felt strange. I mean time felt stretched, as if each day was a year. Yet when the week ended I kinda felt like “That’s it?” While it was happening it was so slow, but once it happened it was gone and seemed like it had only lasted an instant. Once Friday night came, I wanted to grab ahold of my friends and never let go. I was crying and I wasn’t ashamed because leaving my friends so that I can return to a lonely world is something worth crying about. I found my Rivendell and I most certainly didn’t want to leave.
People at my church kept trying to understand why I wanted to go to this writer’s workshop instead of going to youth camp to them. They told me, “But you need to go to youth camp!” And what did I say in response? “You don’t understand. I am going to youth camp.” Even when I tried describing the workshop to them, they didn’t understand. Finally, one girl in my youth group told me to describe what the workshop was for her in one word. I was silent for a moment. I couldn’t properly describe the workshop with all the words in the world at my disposal! How was I supposed to describe it with just one? But then it came to me. I looked up and her and quietly responded, saying one word and one word only.
“Love.”
~Jerah Miller/JayJay
When I first arrived this year, I was shaking with anticipation of the awesomeness that was to come. But I couldn’t have known how different this year was going to be. I’m still not sure if I’ll ever know exactly what made this year so different, so… special. It might be the combination of many different things. This year, a lot more new people came, including many of my friends who I had never met in real life before. Also, several people told me that I had changed. Maybe that was one of the things that made everything so different for me. I looked at things differently this year. I valued it more than I had before, and I didn’t want it to end.
I didn’t participate much in the prayer group, and when I did I usually only joined in on the last fifteen minutes or so. But nowhere else have I ever felt the presence of God stronger. On my way back to the dorms one night I stopped by the prayer group and Jonny led everyone in the song “How He Loves Us.” Now, I’m not one to cry over songs. I have never cried over a song before. But when we all finished singing I felt tears stinging my eyes. Singing this song with my friends and feeling how close God was at that moment was overwhelming.
The week felt strange. I mean time felt stretched, as if each day was a year. Yet when the week ended I kinda felt like “That’s it?” While it was happening it was so slow, but once it happened it was gone and seemed like it had only lasted an instant. Once Friday night came, I wanted to grab ahold of my friends and never let go. I was crying and I wasn’t ashamed because leaving my friends so that I can return to a lonely world is something worth crying about. I found my Rivendell and I most certainly didn’t want to leave.
People at my church kept trying to understand why I wanted to go to this writer’s workshop instead of going to youth camp to them. They told me, “But you need to go to youth camp!” And what did I say in response? “You don’t understand. I am going to youth camp.” Even when I tried describing the workshop to them, they didn’t understand. Finally, one girl in my youth group told me to describe what the workshop was for her in one word. I was silent for a moment. I couldn’t properly describe the workshop with all the words in the world at my disposal! How was I supposed to describe it with just one? But then it came to me. I looked up and her and quietly responded, saying one word and one word only.
“Love.”
~Jerah Miller/JayJay
Comments from Kalina:
So I'm not at Workshops this year.
I mean, life gets in the way. Money issues, priorities, that sort of thing.
And this all made sense in my head a few months ago when I had to make the decision of whether or not I should/could go.
But man, now I'm seeing pictures of everything and remembering that feeling. You guys know exactly what I mean. You'll feel it tonight, when you say goodbye to everyone. When you stay up way later than is good for you after a week of insane awesomeness. Maybe you'll have another prayer circle and re-experience the Church of OYAN, because that totally is a thing.
I know Mig posted something similar - and a whole lot longer and more eloquent - but I just needed to share this.
I haven't been super active in the OYAN community lately - especially not the forum, but not a ton here either.
But somehow... looking at these pictures and hearing some of the stories and getting to Gmail chat with Callie, Star, and Isaac a bit... You kinda remember what home feels like. There's that satisfaction, I guess, that comes from being a part of OYAN. You know these people are crazy, and weird, and absolutely nuts, but you're all SO BEAUTIFUL and I honestly love you all so much. Because we're FAMILY. This is what family feels like. Yes, we fight (some more than others), but that's what families do. We just have to get over ourselves again and make up with each other and realize that at the end of the day, we ARE a family.
Enjoy this last day. Maybe I'll join you again next year. I love you all, and miss you SO MUCH.
~Kalina Myers
I mean, life gets in the way. Money issues, priorities, that sort of thing.
And this all made sense in my head a few months ago when I had to make the decision of whether or not I should/could go.
But man, now I'm seeing pictures of everything and remembering that feeling. You guys know exactly what I mean. You'll feel it tonight, when you say goodbye to everyone. When you stay up way later than is good for you after a week of insane awesomeness. Maybe you'll have another prayer circle and re-experience the Church of OYAN, because that totally is a thing.
I know Mig posted something similar - and a whole lot longer and more eloquent - but I just needed to share this.
I haven't been super active in the OYAN community lately - especially not the forum, but not a ton here either.
But somehow... looking at these pictures and hearing some of the stories and getting to Gmail chat with Callie, Star, and Isaac a bit... You kinda remember what home feels like. There's that satisfaction, I guess, that comes from being a part of OYAN. You know these people are crazy, and weird, and absolutely nuts, but you're all SO BEAUTIFUL and I honestly love you all so much. Because we're FAMILY. This is what family feels like. Yes, we fight (some more than others), but that's what families do. We just have to get over ourselves again and make up with each other and realize that at the end of the day, we ARE a family.
Enjoy this last day. Maybe I'll join you again next year. I love you all, and miss you SO MUCH.
~Kalina Myers
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