"If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans."

If you would have asked me eight months ago where I would be right now, I would have said that I'd just be returning from a spring semester abroad (either Italy, South Africa or Argentina. I couldn't decide). I would be just starting to work my second summer as an orientation leader or have some sort of internship before starting my senior year of college.

I can't say that any of those things are happening right now. Life seems to have a funny way of turning your thoughts upside down and shaking out all your plans onto the ground beneath you. It can make you feel empty. I know I did.

When I began college, I knew I wanted to study abroad. I have a strong desire to see the world and be transformed by the continuing realization that I am small but significant. One of my absolute favorite quotes is by Mother Teresa. She says, "I am a little pencil in the hands of a writing God, who is sending a love letter to the world." I love that idea, that I'm just this small tool in a much larger world all around me. And I couldn't wait to explore more of it.

My sophomore year began talk of study abroad plans. Most of my close friends had chosen to go their Fall semester of junior year. I was applying to be a resident advisor and wouldn't be able to go until Spring semester. I knew I would miss my friends but really was excited about the resident advisor position and being able to contribute to funding my education. I was so excited for my junior year and of when I would return from my semester abroad and reunite with my friends after two semesters a part, sharing stories of our experiences and what we learned about the world and ourselves.

That year was filled with countless wonderful memories but a few hard moments for me. Some of these moments included many doctor appointments, extreme pain, mood swings, fatigue, blood tests, an emergency room visit and too many unanswered questions. I struggled for months with no answers. Every time I thought I was doing better, it would get worse. I had been diagnosed with a chronic illness in the past, I started to think that I must just be stressed and it's acting up again or that this was all just in my head. This time was a roller coaster both physically and emotionally. These symptoms were new to me and completely out of control.

In May, I was finally given an answer. I had just finished my second year at college. I was about to begin a long and intense summer working LMU's Freshman orientation. And I was diagnosed with Lupus, not long before my 20th birthday.

I had been in this same spot just seven years earlier, being diagnosed with a chronic illness and this time, it hurt just the same. I sat alone in what seemed like a careless doctors office who handed me a pamphlet titled Lupus and that was that. I remember going home and crying, filled with frustration, anger, sadness and relief in a way. At least now I knew, and I could work toward treatment.

However, the questions had been answered but that didn't mean that there were solutions.

I came to discover the early months of Lupus would be more difficult than the pre-diagnosis stage. I was put on a cocktail of drugs that not only had side effects but wouldn't show any results until at least three months of use. I figured, okay, I'll have a rough summer and then start feeling something different. But, I was told nothing would feel normal again, even with medication, and this was a sad reality that I unfortunately was used to. I think being told that you are chronically ill and will never get better is the most helpless I've ever felt.

I never thought for a second though that this would disrupt my study abroad plans. I think I definitely often forget how serious my illnesses can be.

Fast forward three months and I was right. It was definitely a rough summer health wise. And it didn't seem to be getting any better. I began my junior year and I pushed through a lot of pain that next semester.  I still felt this battle of health within myself raging on. One day, I was completing my first sprint triathlon and the next day, I would be unable to get out of bed for hours after waking up. The ups and downs were awful and confusing. Simple activities would take so much energy from me, I felt ill almost every other day and I had mysterious symptoms come and go. Months after my diagnosis, I could feel something was still wrong. I was in the middle of my study abroad applications and didn't want anything to ruin what I was so excited for.

After a few more doctor appointments, I was diagnosed with psoriatic arthritis. They didn't catch this earlier and hadn't been treating it. The doctor told me she would begin treatment but like most chronic illnesses, it may take awhile and isn't always cooperative. She also told me that I could not not study abroad the next semester. I would be leaving in just a few months and with the newly diagnosed diseases, I was too fragile and it was risky.

I was completely heartbroken to say the least. I think any person who goes through obstacles understands the desire for resilience, to rise above them and have motivation to not let those things stop you from your dreams. I stood there, face to face, with a mountain of obstacles that I felt absolutely hopeless in climbing. For years, I desperately did not want my health to invade my life or stop me from doing anything.  And here it was, staring down at me from the top, yelling "you can't do this."

I watched my best friends on their abroad adventures that semester and felt incredibly jealous for what I could not have. It seemed that everyone was having this incredible experience, one that anyone would "seriously regret not doing", or a "once in a lifetime chance". These words were said to me in so many different ways during that time, and each time it stung more.

The problem was that I was comparing my story with everyone else's; I thought that theirs was a better tale, more exciting and worthwhile to tell. I remember feeling so insignificant, thinking that nothing I could possibly do at school would ever compare to what my friends were doing abroad. And constantly thinking about the fact that I would not get the chance to experience it due to my health.

I've come to realize now that the truth is not that any life is more exciting or better than my own, or anyones for that matter. It is just different, and that's okay. We all have different stories, different adventures and unique lives. That's how it should be.

I've had a lot of issues coming to terms with this and coming to terms with the things that are not meant for me, and the person that I'm not. I fully believe that God has an awfully big unique adventure for each of us. I think that He is always whispering, and often times it's something that we don't want to hear. But, if you listen closely, throwing away all expectations of what your life should look like or what others lives look like, you can hear him saying, "this is what I created for you, this is what I dreamed you to be".

When we live with eyes, ears and hearts wide open to receive where he's leading us, we will be taken into a life of profound excitement in the everyday and in whatever that call is, because it's ours. And that's something special.

I'm thankful for the Spring semester of my Junior year that I did not spend abroad. That season of my life brought me to build on some amazing and important friendships to me. I was able to continue my work as a resident advisor, continue serving on the executive board of the service organization I am a part of and take a class that helped me dive deeper into my passion of helping others with disabilities. And I think most of all, I grew more everyday in acceptance of the person I am and the things that I face everyday.

I do sometimes still get sad about the opportunity that I missed out on and then I remember these wonderful things. My story and my journey. And I remember that I was exactly where I needed to be. I don't think missed out on is the right word anymore, because I don't believe we truly miss opportunities.  I think that we all have our own opportunities.

People always say cheesy things about challenges like, "Life's a climb, but the view is great." And nobody really acknowledges the fact that sometimes we have to stop climbing. Sometimes there's a giant road block screaming danger ahead and there's no way up that mountain. This is how I felt. It's not a good feeling. It's a defeating feeling.

I'm grateful to say that I haven't let the fear of mountain climbing and the fear of getting stuck stop me from my desire to experience more of the world. Two weeks ago, I returned from an amazing and transformative trip to Tanzania and Rwanda. This week, I'm beginning my own journey studying abroad in France for the summer. I'm writing this on a flight from Dublin to Madrid, about to start something that I'm extremely excited about. Had plans gone my own way, it would have been much different. This is unexpected but spectacular. The exact whispers of God I am talking about.

                           

                                     Airport Terminal in Toronto, Canada

Jungle in Karagwe, Tanzania

I've learned that sometimes you can't climb the mountains life decides to pop up in front of you. But it is important not to feel defeated in this. Because you can pave your own way around and over them. You can take the "you can't" and turn it around into "you can do this another way, and that's perfectly okay." And I can tell you that the view from here is just as great.