Evergreen

FEATURED The hottest day of my life was Christmas day of 2020. Yet, Evergreen the forecast read 40°F and the chilling winds that hovered over the Cape Fear River fought for my balance as I stood on a hilltop surrounded by pine trees, and barren land.

I had finally come to peace with myself after months of concealing lies that only set my life on fire. The first fire was the one I alighted against myself; I was drowning in the mass of work I accumulated in Fall semester, and did not tell my parents about. The second one, a gift from God. I was shown immense grace, and was able to successfully complete two out of four of my classes with high A’s, and had chosen to withdraw from the other two courses. His fire alighted joy undeniable in my heart and founded my newest revelation; I was free from myself. Before, I was trying to uphold an appearance that I had my entire life together, but indeed I was in need of the support extended by advisors, and my parents. This marked the day of true serenity over every bone in my body. The bitterly cold winds were scorched by my radiating warmth from inner understanding that I was no longer alone. I needed to catch fire. Where hot tears of disappointment streamed down my face, agonizing headaches interrupted train of thought, and deep sadness lurked, was now a smile aglow for all to see. Though challenging, the illumination of my flaws taught me how to live again, and allowed for God to pierce my soul with his evergreen love. In the class of AP Earth & Environmental Sciences, my teacher had begun to cover the processes of Ecological Succession.

Succession is known as the “series of events in which life comes back,” and the first part is known as Primary Succession (“Succession Interactive”). This is where all that is left in the ecosystem is bare rock, as some sort of disaster or wildfire had taken place.

There is no soil left, just the presence of death. That night, when

I opened my laptop, the volcano of lies erupted in front of my parents; I was failing my classes. Now, this was unlike me. All of my life I worked hard to get A’s in my classes, and fully take in every inch of knowledge I could possibly consume from my course curriculums. However, Fall Semester of my Junior was tumultuous. I had three college classes, was dually enrolled, and had a lab attached to my BIO-111 class. Overwhelmed, I wanted to make every assignment a masterpiece, but the work was abundant, and I pushed it off until the last minute. Each time then, I lied to myself that I would get it done. The growing list of my assignments haunted me deeply. As I tried to sleep my problems away, there were “little fires everywhere” exploding by my bedside (Ng).

Previously, on June tenth, my beloved Grandma Rose passed away from COVID-19. Dually, she was battling Congestive Heart Failure and the newly found coronavirus. Her lungs could no longer bear the weight of both CHF and COVID-19. To say that I was sad was an understatement. I carried or at least tried to, the weight of my grief. Along with the death of my Grandma, I was beyond frustrated with my highly-reactive and inflamed skin. As of freshman year, my skin started to develop keratin bumps. However, Keratosis Pilaris’ symptoms can only be managed, as there is no cure currently available.

Fire was catching as I suffocated in the billows of my self-made smokefire. Bothered, I would scratch my skin until I bled. Why o’ why was I hurting myself? I neglected my school, created scars on my skin, and did not fully grasp that my Grandma, my best friend, was gone. I had reached my boiling point, and my Mom was on to me; how were my grades? Alarmed and utterly disappointed, my Mom and I began to yell at each other at full speed. My fire set ablaze a flame in her; why did I not come to my parents? It was the end of the semester, two weeks remaining to be exact, and I had over eighty assignments missing. As I tried to take up offense, all I could do was fall to my knees. The countenances of my parents simmered with disappointment. Truly, a part of myself died that night. The volcano erupted, the ashes were created. How could life grow back on bare rock?

Secondary Succession is when an ecosystem is disturbed “e.g forest fire, harvesting, hurricanes,” but soil remains as life is ready to come back (“Succession Interactive”). I sat, stagnant in front of my laptop; I began to work. My Dad helped me outline a plan to push through and optimize the grace period I was given. After days, and days of making up assignments, I was able to successfully complete two out of four of my classes. My Bio Professor had lost her mother-in-law to COVID-19 and her son withdrew from all of his classes. When I held a conference with her to see if it was even possible for me to finish her class, she comforted me with the words that in fact, I did not fail, but I was meeting my needs at that moment. This changed my perspective immensely; in what ways was I growing? During Fall Semester I cut out processed foods and gluten to see if it would help my skin heal, which it started to, and my episodes of severe inflammation digressed. Secondly, I had started an online Journaling account titled “Journaling with Jesus” designed to express my faith in Jesus Christ and share his love with my peers. All along, God was planting seeds of light in my darkness. There was beauty in the ashes, and life was surely coming back into my body.