whitney dziurawiec

I’ve started over three times. My mind is tossing and turning and I’m angrily deleting and staring at the fifteen scarves at the foot of my bed. Why did I bring home more scarves than pairs of socks? Every morning I stare at my options and think, why do I have so many scarves? I’ve been itching to write again but new ideas pop in and out. They’re good ideas, but not complete ones. I think of something good to say and store it in the filing cabinet of my brain entitled “Good Blog Ideas That Will Be Really Cool And Deep And Inspiring.” Well I’m going through the filing cabinet and all I’m seeing are general themes, good one-liners, lessons learned, and a few secrets that I thought maybe I’d be bold enough to put on here. I’m currently going through them like a crazy editor and shredding it all. No, no, no. None of it’s good enough. It’s not complete, it’s not ready. I feel like I’m stuck in the kitchen with a huge meal to prepare but the meat is thawing, the water is on the stove, ...

It’s 1:00 am and I’m not ready for bed yet. We watched this video during tonight’s Christmas Eve service that showed clips from that Nativity story and I started thinking about the whole thing and came to a sobering realization: I would be a terrible Mary. Like, the four gospel writers would have been embarrassed to write about me. I mean, right from the start, there would have been issues. Gabriel: Mary!..er..Whitney! Do not be afraid! You have found favor with God. You will conceive and bear a Son, and you shall call His name Jesus. He will be great and be called Son of the Most High.” Me: (awkward silence) Gabriel: um, Mar—I mean—Whitney? Me: Gabriel: Whitney…I think you’re drooling. Shut your mouth or something. Me: Gabriel (to God): Nice pick. She hasn’t blinked in three minutes. God: Try poking her or something! (poke) Me, shaken out of my stupor: You’re…shiny. Fast forward to my time with Elizabeth. Random thoughts in my head during the time I spend with her,...

I’m shutting textbooks I don’t ever want to open again, turning in papers I don’t want to think about, and snottily picking through the lasts of the cafeteria food like I imagine the Queen of England being like if we threw her in Old Country Buffet and let her scrounge for herself. And I’ve been swallowed in those books, locked in practice rooms, immersed in my busyness. And now I’m here. Not a paper to write or a textbook to read. The textbooks have spit me out Jonah style and I landed here. Christmas. Away in a manger, ba rum ba bum bum, fa la la la la. Right. Christmas. Cue my red Christmas pants. Cue ugly sweaters. Cue a mom meltdown that results in an awkwardly silent ride to Nana’s because she ruined the same egg casserole she ruins every year. Cue fancy Christmas parties and free Mannheim Steamroller concerts. This is not a bad place to land. I can handle this. I can handle this because I have sprinted across campus in a mad panic due to forgetfulness at an estimated amoun...

Well I’m about to crack down on homework. I really am. I turned down something fun today in the name of homework…and I hate that it’s come to this. But I told those cute little freshmen this morning not to be stressed, and I’m going to practice what I preach. I could probably use a little more stress, because I still need eight more sources for my paper. But I’m not worried about it, and I definitely should be. No, last night I spent my evening in my pajamas journaling and writing a letter I never intend to give. Time management was another thing I talked about to the freshmen this morning, as if this semester made me really good at it. I was hoping one of the freshmen would ask the question that’s on all of their minds. The relationship question. The thing they’re all curious about. I wish they would have. I wish I could gently tell the boys to stop chasing after every girl that laughs at them. I wish I could tell the girls to stop reading romance novels and daydreaming of their...

I love the light. I love it as it first peeks above the horizon, stretching as far as it can across fields and through breaks in tree branches. And I love its last good-byes in the evening as it hangs on every golden leaf it can reflect off. Light gives me so much hope, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that God starts, continues, and ends every day with it. And even when it is dark, there is always still a little bit of light. It is speckled in the Christmas tree and glowing around the banister. It is twinkling outside the window next to me and flickering in the candle on the table. It is gleaming from the TV in our basement in accord with commentators’ voices and fans’ yells. It rumbles by, leading car after car down the dimly-lit streets. It dances in the fireplace. Light appears on my phone with messages of “Happy Thanksgivings” and late-night catch-ups with my roommate. Darkness is so beautiful when we allow light in. An eerily dark room can be made warm and peacef...

I’m a big traditional person. Like, sit in your regular spot at the family table kind of traditional. I’m that girl that will fight for that. And today I almost threw multiple tantrums. If it weren’t for the whole “thankful, content” theme of the day. First of all, I had to prepare my stomach for two feasts. All other years we go to Nana’s on one day and Grandma’s on another. To make things easier. But no, today we changed it up. Today we did both in one day. Today I probably doubled my normal calorie intake. Not normal. Strike one. I was already thrown off and we hadn’t even gone to anyone’s house yet. Oh, and then at Grandma’s 1:00 pm feast we all decided we’d have our meal buffet style. What. No. Grandma, we always pass the dishes around. What are we doing? I refuse. So I sat down at the table but no one brought me a dish. After awhile of waiting to see if anyone else would be as livid as I was that we were having our Thanksgiving meal buffet-style , I walked over t...

I’m sprawled out on my bed with wheat thins and leggings and theology books. My Christmas Time scented candle is melting and Sarah’s gone, so I feel a little lost. My birthday came and went and here I am, 21 years old and spending my Monday night re-evaluating my life. Again. I actually have time on my hands now and I don’t want to waste it or spend it thinking too much, because thinking can get me into trouble. I just read the book of Malachi and after I finished the last verse, I remembered that following that verse, there were 400 years of silence. No prophesies, no words from the Lord. No encouragement, no advice or counsel. Nothing. For so very long. Sounds familiar. And I found myself turning to the book of Esther…a book that never mentions the name of God. Though the story is thick with His moving hand, His name is never acknowledged. And through it we can see the subtle, mysterious, often times hidden hand of our all-knowing God. I think we have come to expect God to say...

Guys, I’m going to be 21 soon. Which doesn’t mean anything since I won’t really drink. I guess it’s cool that my driver’s license is now horizontal… but I can’t even enjoy that because my picture is so horrible. My mom says it’s cute and that I always look like that. If I look like my new 21 license picture all the time, then I have been living a lie the past 2.1 decades. And a re-evaluation may be in order. My room is hot because the radiator was left on too long. Those things can misbehave if you take your eyes off of them for one second, that’s one thing I’ve learned in the past 21 years. And my recital is tonight. I crunched the numbers and have probably practiced close to 100 hours this semester. 100 hours of the past 4 months of my 21 st year of life were spent in the practice room. Call it what you will—it’s funny how when you’re doing what you’re made for, stuff like three hours of practicing per day isn’t as miserable as it sounds. Though it sounds pretty miserabl...

I think this is the 8 th time I’ve tried to update this? Words just aren’t coming out. And my hair has been in pony tails and buns lately. And it has been a chore to get myself out of sweatpants and into jeans. My room’s a mess, my throat is full of gunk, I didn’t wear makeup yesterday, and I’m refusing to deal with anything. Refusing. This isn’t me. Normally life doesn’t get to me. I do my hair every day. Sweatpants aren’t even tempting. I pick up after myself. I LOVE doing my makeup. And I give myself those self-talk statements every time I’m feeling down. Keep going, Whitney. Don’t dwell on it. Keep running, keep focusing. Get up, get out of bed. Don’t ask those questions. You may not want to do this, but you have to. Don’t you want to please God with your attitude and thoughts? Go. Run. Believe. Don’t doubt. Faster. Harder Don’t stop Asd;lfkjadso;i Well I threw a tantrum the other day. It was as if I was in a race and I just stopped mid-way and said I’m done a...

I’m sitting in my unmade bed. In a skirt. Eating my lunch of yogurt/granola/raisins and pretzels with cheese sticks…I forgot the cafeteria wasn’t open until Monday. Why do I feel the need to give all of you a visual of where I am, what I look like, and what I’m doing each time I start writing? Not sure. Anyways. This break has actually kind of been a break…but my homework is laughing because it knows we’ll have to have a showdown sooner or later. And I’m not fond of showdowns. Life has been interesting these past few days. Can we have a confession time? This one is embarrassing, guys. I used to have a number as a code word for this boy I liked in my early teen years. I’m not telling you the number because it is a secret…and hopefully Asha doesn’t remember what it is. Anyways, this number has shown up to me in various forms: time of day, page numbers, football scores, prices, and anywhere else that numbers generally appear. As an adolescent girl, butterflies flitted around in m...

It’s been one of those weeks where I go to bed every night saying, God, I honestly don’t know if I can keep doing this. My motivation is dwindling, my concentration is blurring, my hope is fading and I don’t want to keep going. I really don’t. But that is when He picks me up, gives me a small reason to smile, to laugh, to serve, to love. And He gets me out of bed whether I want to or not. And all the equipment for worship team could get lost, people that we need could get sick, hopes that we had for right now could be completely unmet, and we smile as we watch friends get what they wanted. It is a genuine smile. A sober one, but genuine. Somehow He always gets us through. Through awkwardness, through overwhelming weeks, through planning formals, through month after month of unfulfilled desire that could never be realized, we always make it through. Even when we don’t want to, we want Him more. And we don’t want to smile, but we want to see Him smile. And we wish we didn’t fee...

It’s been one of those days. It’s been one of those weeks. Yeah, it’s been one of those months. And it’s definitely been one of those years. What does those even mean anyway? The phrase is fairly ambiguous. I guess what I mean by those is exhausting. Stretching. Wearying. Probing. Itching. Desperate, on-your-knees, strength-draining, “Lord, I cannot do this without You,” kind of those. And it’s not all bad. These kinds of days and weeks and years are so good. I’ve never had a more fulfilling year of my life—I’ve never been more satisfied. But I’ve also never been more tired. I still have a few chapters to read before I go to bed. I should definitely get on that. There is this one part in my Beethoven sonata. The part I’ve been working strenuously on since I first laid eyes on those two measures. Yep, only two measures. When I go full-speed, the part lasts about four seconds. Guys, I have spent hours on this part. Going slow, going fast. Just left hand; just right hand....

Today I was just happy. Reasons for happiness: First of all, I am happy because God is very, very good. And we do not have to worry, we do not have to overthink or over-analyze. We can rest and trust and wait. We don’t have to feel pressure or striving. Simply because He is so good. I spied and watched my little brother ask this cute girl to formal today. And as I watched her blush, I just couldn’t help but smile. I remember that feeling of knowing a boy could have chosen anyone to ask to formal, but he chose me. I knew that girl felt special and confident today, because she was picked by my brother (who is a catch and a half by the way). And she’s just so stinking cute, I hope she goes to sleep still smiling because she’s got a date to formal. Cute freshmen. And then I smiled because I don’t need a date to formal, and that is exactly why I have one. Because I remember being like these freshman girls that wanted dates so badly, that felt self-conscious if I didn’t have one. And ...

Today was one of those “I have nothing going on so I’m going to get a lot done but I end up falling asleep and going running and buying new songs on itunes” kind of days. And now I’m on my second helping of dinner. And my textbooks are glaring at me. And the Huskers are playing so there’s bound to be yelling eventually. Home and fall just go together. I love my room at Grace, but coming home to chili and fireplaces is the absolute best. I know a lot of these are based on what I’ve learned while running. Guys, if you want to daily learn life lessons, run every day outside. Seriously. He teaches me something or reinforces a truth each time. That’s my exhortation for the day. Run outside. Even if it’s cold or raining or humid or windy. Just run. I ran my normal “home” route…through neighborhoods, along busy streets, and I came to this path that I rarely run on. The rain had let up and I wanted to get to a song on my playlist so I decided to extend my run. Despite the gloomy, overcast ...

It’s funny how you can be so busy, have a great roommate, be completely in the will of God, and still feel very alone. I knew this year would be a hard one. Two of my closest friends aren’t here like they used to be; I spend three hours a day locked in a room practicing piano, spend my weekends doing homework, and spend at least an hour in the car most days…without even a radio. My busyness keeps me occupied but completely isolated. I’m not with people like I used to be. Can I make a confession? I just bought my junior recital dress last night. I came home and tried it on with the new heels I got. I stayed in that dress for an hour. At midnight on a Friday night, there I sat, journaling in a classy dress and berry-colored heels. I couldn’t bring myself to take it off. There was this need to feel pretty even though no one saw me. And last night, like an insecure high schooler, I just stared at the mirror thinking, “Maybe if I lost a few inches here, if only my hair looked a bit fu...

I just took Benedryl so we’ll see how things go. For some reason I am itchy right now. And I’m not talking about “I want to go to Boston” itchy. I’m not talking about “I just want to graduate” itchy. I’m literally. Itchy. My scalp and neck and back and chest and armpits. Even my eyelids. They’re so itchy. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. But I’ve been thinking about the figurative itches we get. Boston came on my ipod today and I almost packed my bags. I’m itching to see how things play out. And it is so tempting to scratch. But if you didn’t know, I’m going to fill you in on itchiness because I feel fairly adequate enough to explain this to you due to multiple overreactions to bug bites in the past: It never helps to scratch. It may feel good for awhile. It may even go away for awhile. But it comes roaring and flaring back, and we are stuck with our bottle of calamine lotion and desperate prayers. Scratching makes the affected area so much worse and, ironically, more itchy. We...

I’ve been sick and sleeping a lot today. And life has been a whirlwind recently. Maybe being sick is divine providence…I need to take it easy. In that case, yes, I will take two naps in one day after sleeping ten hours. Sounds good to me. Except for the fact that I keep falling asleep and waking up to different thoughts and worries and stresses…part of me just wants to stay asleep for a long time. It’s my roommate and her boyfriend’s six-month anniversary. Time is a funny thing, I’m beginning to realize. I have been thinking about how things have changed over time recently. Let’s go back to six months ago…oh right. Gingers and zoos and awkwardness. Yeah..uh..let’s go a bit further… Ok, one year ago. Oh, right…I was deciding whether I had feelings for this boy or not…and this boy happens to be the one celebrating his six-month with my roommate. Life. Maybe we’ll just stick to the present. I’m sitting here about to go to bed at 10:30, sniffling and coughing and wishing this apple c...

It is way too late for me to still be up. But I never want to go to bed after I work for some reason. At least I’m not running outside though…baby steps. Tonight I had a really long talk with my co-worker Clint about God and life and everything in between. It was…hard. Clint is so cynical and logical. He is smart and had an intelligent comeback whenever I would say what I believed or what had happened in my life that made God so real to me. It seems almost impossible for the walls around his heart to be broken down. Thank goodness my God has torn down bigger walls before. Both literal and figurative. Can I be brutally honest tonight? Like…really honest. I’m not in the mood for pretending I figured something out today. This cynicism of Clint’s about religion and spirituality…it reminded me of my cynicism. Guys, I’ve gotten really bad. There is literally almost no optimism left in my heart in this area. I’m twenty and I’m done. How is that even possible? I hear fellow single girl...

We search for God in order to find Him with greater joy, and we find Him in order to keep on searching with greater love. That quote has been resonating in my soul the past few days. I needed to share it. Anyways... I got back from sleeping over at Tania’s house. I missed church because we both decided we didn’t want to go. Don’t judge us. But something about Sundays makes me need to put on a dress. So I got ready for nothing. I put on a dress and washed my face and brushed my teeth and opened the window. And then I sat in Sarah’s hammock. And I just started writing. I just needed time with Him. During the day. My recent times with Him have been far too past midnight, and I’m not sure how capable my mind is at that point. I wanted Him at 11:30 am on a Sunday morning when everyone else is eating their Sunday dinners with their families. So I started writing and my hand just kept going. I’ve been asking a lot of people for advice lately. And I’m overwhelmed by the different res...

It’s definitely a piano Pandora station night. Because I haven’t heard enough piano playing today after practicing for over 3 hours…clearly. But lyrics and I aren’t very good friends today because they keep distracting me. I just had a long talk with a friend over an embarrassingly large bowl of frozen yogurt. And instead of being relaxing and unwinding, it stressed me out. I told him some things, some issues. And unlike most people that I tell, he asked the question. What are you going to do, Whitney? Uhh… I told him I didn’t know. But he asked me again. What are you going to DO? And I realized that this whole time I’ve been wishing that it will all fall into my lap. But maybe I have to do something. Maybe life isn’t about sitting back and waiting. But then the sovereignty of God and His will came to mind, and I got very, very confused. I told him every time he asked me that I didn’t know. I don’t know. And all at once I feel like I have plenty of time and simultaneously feeling...

One thing I’ve learned about Him is how He keeps pushing us. It is never the same thing. Always a little different, always a little bit harder. And when I think I barely made it through the last thing, He whispers for me to go a bit further. Yesterday we went to a camp and they made us climb and crawl and run and jump and pull and push and any other strenuous verb you can think of. I loved that feeling of being pushed. Not staying comfortable. Letting my knees get a little dirty and my shins get a little bruised. I am kind of sore today, guys. But that pushing…it was so good for me. I don’t love the figurative pushing as much. I’d much rather climb a pole and jump off like I did yesterday. That was fun and exhilarating. This…well, this can get exhausting. He is pushing my heart. And it is getting sore. Guys, it is so much fun. I love being back at school. Knowing it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be. I have a great view, a great roommate, and so many great opportunities. I am ex...

Life has been mellow lately. But craziness is coming. It is stirring in my heart and electrifying the air. Sarah and I have been sensing it. We’re not quite sure what it all entails. But we know that we have got to be ready. I feel it inching in, and I’m ok with it. Craziness can make for a lot of stress, a lot of tears, and a lot of confusion. And that is ok. Bring it on. I’m ready. I’m moving out in two days and have I touched a thing? No. Have I thought about it? No. Have I thought about thinking about it? A little. But my room is clean, my gums are closing up from the horrors that were done to them a week ago, and I’m getting my eyebrows waxed tomorrow. I’m keeping everything I can under control. But I feel it all slipping…and it’s scary. Good scary. I hear people talking about waiting a lot lately. I just read this really great poem on it. I see facebook statuses of broken-hearted girls proclaiming they will wait patiently for their husbands. Friends are waiting for ...

Last night I decided to take Tylenol PM at least an hour before I was planning to go to bed. That was mistake number one. Mistake number two was journaling afterwards. And mistake number three was continuing to text people. “Yeah. Any Tylenol loun failed.” That is an exact text I sent right before I passed out. The only comprehensible thing is ironically the word Tylenol. And the word “failed.” Which is a good summation of my time following the ingestion of the medicine I took in the name of “wisdom teeth soreness.” But guys, really…I wasn’t in pain. I just wanted to sleep long and hard. Don’t tell Grace faculty, please. I’m still fighting off the urge to take more tonight. I went on a walk today because I’m not allowed to run yet. And my mom made me wear flip flops so she’d know I wouldn’t run. The problem is that I never wear flip flops, for two very good reasons. The first is that I’m a fashion snot and something about flip flops makes me cringe. The second I had forgotten...