whitney dziurawiec

Before I know what’s going on, I am rushed into a room. They are telling me to hurry, that there’s not much time. I realize I am holding a bag, and someone takes it from me and looks inside. She stares at the contents for awhile, then looks at me and smiles with tears welling in her eyes as if to say Thank you. They push me into a chair and begin to prod at my hair, clip at my nails, and polish my face. I catch a glimpse of them taking all of their tools out of the bag I brought in. In a whirlwind, I was lipsticked, curled, and in a dress. Then, as if a storm had passed, they all stopped and stepped back. They stared at me in awe. I heard gasps and whispers. Some were crying, others just stared. I stared back at them, wondering. The same woman that met me at the door led me to a large mirror on the other side of the room. I looked into it and my jaw dropped. My dress was whiter than any other white I had seen. My hair perfectly curled, not a piece out of place. It was shining and ...

Yesterday sucked. I was in a bad mood all day. And to top it all off, I was sitting in my least favorite class with my least favorite teacher. I knew I still had a lot to do the rest of the day. I hadn’t been doing well emotionally and didn’t know how to even deal with what was happening. I was sitting in my seat, listening to the drone of my teacher when all of a sudden, everything that was happening swelled up in me and directed itself at one simple desire: I want a cupcake . And I’m not talking about a, “Man, a cupcake sounds good now.” I’m talking about needing a cupcake. As if every problem in my life would melt away with that sweet fluffy cupcake and creamy frosting. I could no longer even attempt to listen to my teacher. I wanted, no, needed a cupcake. Class finally ended and I walked back to my room, images of a cupcake still burned into the back of my brain. I grabbed my piano bag, knowing that worship would get my mind off my craving. I walked through the music hallwa...

I’m sitting in my dorm room, alone. Clothes are everywhere, a Cheez-it box is sitting next to me, and there are more scarves in here than pairs of shoes. It really is home. My roommate is back and I see her everyday. I didn’t realize how much I really missed her until now. Now that I have her again. And I get to see her plan her wedding and fall more in love with her fiancé. And we will stay up late looking at youtube videos that 10 year-olds made. And we will sit on our beds and talk. About how we got to where we are. About what Jesus is going to do. About what we’ve missed in each other. But we won’t talk about boys, I won’t let us. That’s my rule this year. I’m not losing myself in looking for that. It is dangerous and foolish. It’s easy not to talk about it, but not thinking about it is another struggle entirely. How is it that our thoughts can so easily turn from the one truly majestic, beautiful, powerful, Creator who will be our ultimate Bridegroom to people who will let ...

This summer has been so busy, posting new blogs hasn't really been a priority. Summer has been sweet and rich. Road trips and Rock Band. Late-night movies and early-morning runs. Lazy days by the pool and busy days with friends and work. Mosquito bites and sunburns. Laughter and tears. But this summer was so much more than the stereotypical summers that most people have. I went into this summer wanting to change, to grow. To transform. That was my prayer from the day I moved all my stuff home from those dorms. And it’s happened. Jesus has grown me, stretched me, moved me, filled me, and shaken me. I am so different. I could write a book on everything I’ve learned this summer. Ok, maybe not a book. But it would fill up a few more than one blog post. In short, God has answered my prayer, like He always does. I am in awe when I look back at where I was only three months ago. How do I come back from such a refreshing retreat? How do I transition from my vacation with Jesus to real lif...