Twelve years ago.

Twelve years ago, as a sophomore transfer student at Taylor University, there was a lot I didn't know.

I didn't know when I moved into Bergwall Hall, room 306, I was about to meet my lifelong friends.

I didn't know the group of girls living next door — girls I admired and thought both pretty and fun — would soon welcome me in as one of their own.

I didn't know that we would spend the next three years living together — swapping clothes, telling secrets, sharing meals, having dance parties, taking millions of pictures, and learning to love each other.

I didn't know that way too soon college would end and we'd all be living in different states, with daily interaction limited to emails, letters, and phone calls.

I didn't know that things would slowly begin to shift and we'd find ourselves on different pages when it came to relationships, jobs, money, and children.

I didn't know these differences between us would become the norm, and that we'd have to let our friendships shift and change a bit, too.

I didn't know that life would be so hard at times that we'd have no idea how to help one another through it.

I didn't know that through our fumbles and failures in friendship we'd learn new ways of communicating, of supporting, of accepting, of loving each other.

I didn't know that despite time and distance, these women would continue to be the first ones I turn to in both joy and struggle.

I didn't know my dorm room neighbors would become my sisters, my confidants, my support system, my role models, my teachers, my best friends — for years well beyond those spent at Taylor.

I didn't know any of this, but God did. He brought us together as young, silly college girls, and He's kept us together ever since.


I am so grateful for my beautiful friends, and the weekend we just spent together — swapping clothes, telling secrets, sharing meals, having dance parties, taking millions of pictures, and learning to love each other even more.