whitney dziurawiec

When I think of every trial and hardship I have faced in my life, I am able to count at least one or two products of redemption that the trial grew into. Oaks of righteousness that have grown from seeds of suffering, a small forest of them from my short life. They have bored the words of Romans 8:28 into my soul, the hope for good, the heart-check of "do I truly love Him?", the waiting in anticipation. But, honestly friends, there is one seed from which I have yet to see redemption grow. It started terrorizing my innocent 10 year-old self, who beforehand had no idea that sleep could be something so unattainable. A whole year of staring wide-eyed into the darkness. I realized at that age the loneliness of late hours while the rest of the house breathes in slumber. I prayed because they told me to pray. I was prayed over. I remember shifting from the futility of waking my parents each night to bearing the sleeplessness on my own. And at ten years old, I was forc...

All through high school and college we find our friends in our surroundings. We look to our left and right at the desks next to us in Algebra. We find them down the hall in the dorm. From elementary school to college, we experience our life changes alongside our friends. We started puberty and endured the hormones together. We got our licenses in the same year. We talked about classes and homework and everything was the same, no wonder it felt so easy to make friends--we had the same lives with the same timelines. And I somehow assumed that's how it would always be. I first began to feel this disconnect when the first bestie got married, right after our sophomore year of college. As someone who could not have been further away from marriage, there was a foreignness of watching one of my best friends experience this major life change with which I could not also partake. I remember something actually stinging inside me as I watched her walk down the ai...