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
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