Lauren Gaskill

For my senior honors thesis at Ball State University, I am writing a women’s devotional book. I began this project hoping that thousands of women would benefit from the stories and words that line the pages. What I didn’t anticipate however, but have found along the way, is that God is changing my heart as I delve deeper into this project.

Yesterday, after my boyfriend and my annual camping trip, I sat down to write chapter four of the book, “What is Beauty.” For 10 minutes, I sat in frustration, unsure where to start. As a woman who has struggled with self-perceived beauty, there is so much I could say…

When the words wouldn’t come I took a break by uploading camping pictures. As the thumbnails flashed one-by-one across my computer screen, I felt a jolt of inspiration. I remembered the joy I felt walking through canyons and riverbeds, breathing in the sights and sounds of trickling waterfalls and basking in the calming embrace of fall’s sunshine. I’d never been so captivated by beauty.

Nature doesn’t try to be showy or beautiful—it just is. The magnificence of God’s creation doesn’t have to be realized, because it’s all around us and can’t be denied.

We, too, are beautiful as we are, and our Father longs for us to see ourselves the way He sees us. I’m always captivated by Psalm 139 where it talks about God loving us for all that we are:

Read More

The other weekend, I came home from the grocery store, expecting the two boys in the family I live with to be tired from an early morning soccer game. But instead of sitting on the couch, they were loading up their parent’s car with rakes, trash bags, gloves and other equipment.

“Lauren, we’re going to go clean the playground at my elementary school. Do you want to come?” The oldest, Jonah, asked.

I smiled politely, replying with an absolute “Yes.” I thought it would be a fun, Saturday adventure; and it was. It wasn’t until I learned the reason behind our expedition, however that I became captured by Jonah’s excitement. At first, I thought the boys were just being cute. Then I learned that Jonah had spearheaded the whole clean-up activity, after being inspired by a book his elementary school teacher gave him.

The book, a narrative on citizenship, prompted Jonah to think about his own role in the Muncie community. With joy in his eyes, he told his mom he wanted to be a good citizen and take care of his community — and what better way to do that than to call on community members to clean up the local school playground?

So that’s what we and around 20 others did that Saturday afternoon. A little more than an hour, eight trash bags and hundreds of pulled weeds later and the playground looked immaculate. Not only was the clean-up beneficial to the school, but I ended up getting to know a lot of neighbors on a more personal level. All because someone 1/4 of our age saw a need in the community and wanted to be a “good citizen.”

I think Jonah critically understands something that we as adults tend to forget: that we need each other to help make a positive difference in the world around us.

A community can only be as great as its citizens. And if citizens do not invest in, care for and help their community to the best of their ability, the community will never be as rich as it could. Not rich in terms of money, but rich in terms of love and respect.

It’s easy to complain about the things we don’t like in the world around us. But at the end of the day, it’s doing something to enrich our communities that make the world a better, more loving and joyful place.

One week from today, I will leave Minneapolis for five months to finish my last semester of college.
One week from today, I will say goodbye to strangers who became friends, coworkers who became mentors and colleagues who invited me into their writing circles. It’s like Seattle all over again.

Leaving places never gets easier.

Even though I know I will return in January, the connections and memories I’ve made make it hard to say “see you later” to Minnesota. Sure, I can’t wait to be home and with my loved ones in Indiana, but I know, come New Year’s Day, I will have to say goodbye to them, too. Sometimes nothing feels permanent. Sometimes, all I want to be is settled.

At the same time however, I feel blessed for having lived in so many vibrant, unique places. Because I know that without moving myself to these places and without meeting so many new people, my life would look a lot different … and not in a good way.

Moving is a dramatic time of change — It can bring out the best and the worst in us; It can drive relationships apart; It can be downright miserable and lonely at times; but it can also wonderfully change us. And that’s where I think the true beauty in moving lies. Amid the pain, unfamiliarity, adjustments and confusion is this great opportunity to be immersed in a new culture, with different people from opposite backgrounds. My heart longs for my closest friends and family members … but I have much to owe to the new relationships I’ve cultivated. They have added to my knowledge. They have given me a newfound compassion and positive outlook on life. They have taught me more than I could learn in a classroom.

Transitioning from living in Seattle, to Indiana, to Minnesota and back to Indiana again has been a wild and crazy ride. But it has also been a journey full of joy, beauty and enlightenment. The more people I meet, the more my faith is renewed. No matter what separates us, in the end we all have similar hopes and fears.

Leaving places never gets easier … but stepping out of your comfort zone is an adventure that is always worth the willingness to take.