Praise You in This Storm

2008 started off just like any other year. I rang in the new year with good friends, drank way to much sparkling cider and made resolutions that were out the window by the time classes started back. My classes began just like I anticipated. I made some great new friends—that's a great perk of having small studio classes. One of those new friends was named Lauren. She was such a beautiful person but on March 5th, my fairy-tale world was rocked. God tossed a stick into my spoke that I had never even dreamt of in my worst nightmares. I came home from the movies with my roommate to see lots of fire trucks and police and a car that had clearly been burned. And my acquaintance Julie Roberson talking to the police. That was strange for me. So I quickly got on the phone to figure out what kind of car Julie drove. Oddly enough, the burned car was not hers. The next day on the elevators some DGs who lived in my dorm were whisper-talking about Lauren. I only caught bits and pieces but I put it together and figured out that it was her car that had been burnt. I quickly texted my parents and a few friends saying how Lauren's car had caught on fire and I heard she was in the hospital. Spanish brought more of the same, only Sean, her boyfriend, was not in class. But that seemed normal enough, seeing as his girlfriend was in the hospital. Then I started hearing people say they heard it wasn't an accident and that they heard they couldn't find the girl and no one could get through on her cell phone. Now my wheels were really spinning. How could someone catch such a sweet girl's car on fire? Up until this point I had thought her car had exploded while she was in it. I hoped and prayed that she was going to be okay. Then came Psychology. Cassie and I had much more important things to attend to than learning. We immediately got on Facebook and clicked over to Lauren's profile. That is when my world stopped turning. "We'll catch whoever did this to you, Lauren." "Rest in peace sweet angel, I know you're in a better place." ...Lauren was gone. Cassie and I struggled to keep our composure for the rest of class. But the worst was yet to come. Next was 3D design, the class we had with Lauren. When we got there all was normal, besides an empty seat. But within a few minutes everyone was talking about what happened, only none of them knew it was sweet Lauren. And the worst was yet to come even for Cassie and I. Turns out our beautiful friend had not died due to the fire. She was no where near the car when it was torched. She died of a gunshot wound to the back and was left without clothes on the side of College St. It was not until nearly the end of class when the class had the realization it was our sweet friend who was the victim. It was even later that another professor came to break the news to our professor, who had been unaware of our murmurings. The next few days are kind of a blur. I remember a lot of emails from family, phone calls from my parents, offers to go stay with relatives. I remember the police and detectives knocking on my door a few times, news crews camped outside of my dorm and in the parking lot. I remember multiple services in the spot where her car was found. I remember her memorial service. But most of all, I remember church that Wednesday night. I remember signing a card for her parents and the news finally sinking in. Up until that point I had not cried. But in that moment I lost it. Never has death been so tangible. Sure, my relatives have died, but they were old, it was their time. She was young, she had so much potential, so much of her life left to live. I was angry. It's not as though she died of an illness or in a car accident. Her life was taken. Some person had a cold enough heart to try to harm that girl, and when she fought back he decided she did not deserve to live. That is no ones decision to make. It is not right. It is not fair. And yet it happened. It's been 9 months. In a way they've flown by, but in a way they've drug on. Every day I remember her, and every day I thank God that I had an opportunity to get to know her before her time was up. Through the little bit I talked to her, my life was changed. She has touched more people in her life and through her death than I can ever hope to touch. I truly believe she was an angel, sent for her 19 short years to change as many lives as possible. And boy, did she ever. 

Who Am I?

I heard an interesting quote the other day...

"She doesn't really have a true identity, but she knows 

what she believes in and she sticks to that."

Something about that quote struck me. Perhaps it's because I often wonder who I am. Some people seem so sure of who they are, where they're going, what they are meant to be. I, on the other hand, know none of that. Who am I? I wish I could tell you but even I don't know. I feel as though I change based on who I am around. Often times I trick myself into thinking I have figured out which is the real me. But is that just who I want to be, or is it truly who I am? And where does one draw the line between who they want to be and who they are. Can I not choose who I want to be? Am I not the master of my own person, free to be who I want to be? Sometimes I think I know where I'm going and what I'm meant to be. Graphic Designer. Journalist. Lover of the Spanish language. Future magazine employee. Internship in Boulder. Job for Disney. Sure, they may be possibilities, but who is to say where I will truly be when I graduate. I graduate in three and a half years. Three and a half years ago I had a completely different career path in mind. Who is to say I won't change my mind before graduation? 

But really? We all know where this is going. I have no control. It doesn't matter what I want, what I think, what I feel. It's all up to the man upstairs. I may have found that I am a talented graphic designer, but really? That was not my doing. God gave me that talent. He has put the right people and experiences in my life at just the right times so I think that I have figured out my perfect life plan and career path but who am I trying to kid. He's been knowing that since way before my time. Since way before time itself, in fact. 

So though I may have no true identity, I know what I believe in, and that's plenty enough for me. God bless you.

How Will They Remember Me?

I often sit and ponder my future. Here I am, a sophomore in college, and I know EXACTLY what I want to do with my life. Dual major in Graphic Design and Journalism with a minor in Spanish. Internship in Dallas, Atlanta or NYC. Job with a big name magazine. But why? How will my life affect the lives of those around me? The lives of my peers? The lives of my elders? The lives of future generations? How can I, Aimee Belcher, make a difference? It is something I struggle with on a daily basis. I try my best to live the life that God has so graciously blessed me with to it's fullest and to share His love with those around me. I want to have Godliness seeping from my pores. I want people to think I'm different and KNOW why. But how do I work that into my future? If I work for a christian magazine, I only reach out and touch those who already consider themselves christians. I want to do more. I want to bring light to those who have only darkness. I want to bring love to those who feel only hate and neglect. I want to bring happiness to those who can find only sorrow. I want to bring hope to those who can not get past their regrets. I want to leave a legacy.