Their droopy eyes told me we were in for a long and listless afternoon. I was studying the Gospel of Mark with a group of fifteen college students at Campus by the Sea.

The summer after my freshman year of college messed up my life. I had it all planned out. My first year of college had been amazing. I’d made a ton of new friends whom I loved spending time with and I had started dating a girl early in the year. 

Even though I am Navajo, I didn’t grow up in a household that practiced the traditional ways. I was raised believing in God and going to church every Sunday, but I never took any of it to heart.

|

Lisa Schrad

A woman I know has a habit of naming her years. Come January 1, she’ll choose a word for the year ahead—something she’d like to be true of the coming months, such as community or adventure or love. If I were to go back and name the past ten years of my life, most of them would share the same few words: Judgment. Guilt. Fear.

Close menu