"It's all part of the program," my mom said as I sniffed up snot and wiped tears off my face. That little scene played out countless times in my childhood, usually after I had hurt myself playing. I understood what she meant: I could stay inside and be safe, sitting quietly in a corner, or I could have an adventure and risk getting hurt. I usually chose the latter.

This phrase came back to me when I heard my director, Kristi, tell one of the members of the cast to "trust the process" of putting a play together. As the assistant director, I learned long ago to trust the director's vision, but it's a skill and a hard lesson (sometimes). Sometimes, the puzzle pieces make no sense. Sometimes, the moments feel awkward and unnatural. Sometimes, the AD storms you and pushes your feet into place with a scowl.

I'm in college, about to start my senior year. I have a lot of goals and dreams that don't all seem to "go together," but I've decided that making them "go together" is not my job. It's not my problem. My job is to use the talents I've been given as well and thoroughly as I can, with as much wisdom and love as I can muster, and more - that I will be given - when it is needed. My job is to someday say, "I held nothing back," and my hope is that I will hear a resounding, "well done." The fact is, I have to trust the process my life is in and trust that the experiences I'm having are all a part of the process. There will be times I don't understand, and times when I can only see the next two steps (literally) in front of me. That is okay. I know that it will not always be easy. I've gotten my share of bumps and bruises and heartache, and I am sure there is more in store.

And you know what? It's all a part of the program.