Thoughts From The Brain of a Tired Student in the Throws of Finals.

Oh you know, just sitting here, dwelling on mortality. Ok, maybe not mortality, but most definitely dwelling on some serious stuff.
Welcome to the constantly running machine that is my crazy brain.
Thoughts running through my head include - but are not limited to - the following:
It's officially my last week of school. Ever.
In 10 days, I will no longer fill out government forms and put "student" as my occupation.
I have to be a grown up now.
In 61 days, I embark on my first adventure as an adult.

It's weird. Going to fashion design school, people ask you all the time, "What are your plans after graduation?" Expecting your answer to be something like, "I want to work for Prada! Chanel! Balenciaga!" Rarely do they expect you to answer "I want to work with organizations that use fashion/production to make a difference, create jobs, enhance the infrastructures of different cultures."  That tends to take people aback.  When I started school, I didn't know how I could use a seemingly selfish, shallow degree to help anyone other than myself.  I've learned something: You can use ANY skills and talents that you have to help people. I think God blesses those people who's sincere heart desire is to use the talent He has given us in service for him.  Being exposed to the "Industry" helped me realize I didn't want to be a part of that world, the world where we are judged by what and who we wear, what trends we keep up with, and how much money our shoes cost.
I love fashion, don't get me wrong. But over time, I've realized that what I love about it is how different people use it to express themselves. We wake up as blank canvases, and what we put on every day makes a statement. Similarly, what we put on every day can make a difference in the economies of broken and hurting cultures if we can break free of the first world mold.

Back to my thoughts:

I am constantly overcome by the thought that I - a young, inexperienced, fashion-design student who has only lived in two states her entire life - get to live my dream. At the tender age of 20, barely out of the womb, a "sheltered" homeschooler, still on my parents insurance plan, a n00b of life, get to go serve my God, and I don't feel like I'm giving up a thing.
Is that bad?
I feel like we automatically equate mission-work with sacrifice. We accept the fact that we will be miserable, because how else would we feel while living in a 3rd world country? I'm going to challenge that. At my young age, I feel so fulfilled, because I truly believe that I have found my happy place. The place where I've figured out how to use my God-given talents in the way that God wanted me to use them when he blessed me with them.

Thanks for taking this tour of the innermost workings of my mind. I'm all over the place.

Oh, P.S.

61 DAYS

The Countdown Continues