Strings on Fingers: Ten Things I Don't Want to Forget As a Second-Year RA

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

This Spring, during RA training, ResLife brought in a panel of outgoing RAs to share wisdom they had gleaned from their experiences. It was a joy to listen to--I felt so proud of these coworkers and siblings in Christ who I had walked with through the year. They had good things to say.

And it got me thinking about the things I've learned throughout my experience as an RA. I figured it'd be nice to have it all in one place, especially when things hit the fan for my second year and I wonder what in the world I got myself into (again). And maybe it will be helpful to others along the way. So here are ten things I learned and don't want to forget:

1.    Deep breaths. Lots of them.

If there is time for literally nothing else, there is time for this. Breathing is the only system in our bodies that is tied to both our voluntary and involuntary control, which is why there’s so much stress relief in intentional breathing. The involuntary freak-out that happens sometimes in conflict or crisis can be soothed by a few deep breaths—and as an RA, a student, a friend, and someone who struggles with anxiety, I’m here.for.it.

2.    Expectations ≠ Identity.

Ok, so we all spend way too much time and energy contemplating what people think of us sometimes. This is something that is going to happen. And I found myself doing that A LOT as an RA:

What do they expect from me?

Am I doing this right?

I’m not like the last RA—do they wish I was more like her?

What is my resident/friend/coworker/boss thinking right now? Is this event/meeting/idea/theme/boundary up to her standards?
This was my inner monologue all the time for most of the year and it really wasn’t all that helpful. One day (by the movement of the Holy Spirit), it occurred to me that people’s expectations of me literally had nothing to do with my identity—because my identity is in Christ. Expectations are something to be aware of; at the end of the day, though, who Jesus says I am is the most important and truest thing about me.

3.    Rest.

One of my favorite questions for people is “What is restful to you?” I find that often, people struggle to answer that one off the top of their heads because it’s not something American culture really lends itself to. (Pro tip: This is one thing texting is good for. I use group chats for questions practically every day. Some of you are rolling your eyes, but I can't imagine why....) I had a lot of fun exploring this for myself this year, too.

Honestly, I’m not great at the one-day Sabbath routine. I wish I was. But I found that anything that made my heart and chest feel a little lighter—even if it was just a shower or a trip to the stillness of the library—was something to remember and make use of amid the busyness of everyday life.

4.    Listen to your body.

My counselor told me this over and over again this year and almost every time, I got frustrated. “I don’t feel anything!” I would say. “My body is not the problem, my emotions are!”

Hilariously, I’m also the one who claims “holistic” as one of her favorite words and could definitely go on a rant about modern gnosticism right now. But I will spare you. Suffice it to say that humans are embodied souls—so what’s happening emotionally will often be mirrored physically.

It took me a lot of practice, but I finally learned to stop stress in its tracks by paying attention to what my body was saying. Nauseous? Probably means I’m nervous about something and it would help to make a plan for how to face it. Can’t sit still? A run might help, or maybe a good hug from a friend. Learning these signals made a world of difference in how I cared for myself.

5.    Sit still for ten minutes.

As I listened to my body, I often found myself with a “buzzing” in my head or in my chest—this frantic, unsettled feeling. One day, I decided I could not keep pushing through it and just sat down on my couch to wait it out, letting go of thinking or doing. Within ten minutes, I felt better and was able to move on with my day.

Stillness goes a long way.

6.    If you wish for sickness, it’s time for boundaries.

Maybe this one is just me, but there have definitely been times in my life when I think to myself, “Man, I just wish I would catch a cold, so I didn’t have to do all the things.”

This is a clear indicator to me that I need to start saying “no.” I try to look at the next few days and see how many things I can take off my plate. Even if there’s nothing I can take out, I say no to any other offers to keep overwhelm at bay.

7.    Ask for help.

I think I relearn this one every single day.

When I first became an RA, I was suffering from clinical anxiety so bad that the bare minimum requirements of my job and schoolwork were all I could perform—and sometimes not even that. Which meant assignments often got missed and a lot of people got dropped.

If I could go back and do that semester differently, I would email every professor and tell them my situation, so I could get some extensions or even just a little more understanding. That’s the thing I regret most from my junior year.

What I did learn, though, was how to delegate jobs to my girls and how to tell people, “I don’t have the capacity for that.” I also learned how to be real with my friends and tell them when I needed them. Those are things I’m going to carry with me for the rest of my life.

8.    If you’re wondering if there’s grace, the answer is probably yes. 

Honestly, I’m just gonna leave this one here. Let it go. Ask the question. Confess the failure. Grace covers a lot.

9.    Comparison is the thief of love.

Natalie, my floor’s brilliant life group leader (who wrote a great blog post here), pointed out that in every moment we envy someone, we are not loving them.

I found myself struggling with this a lot in my year as an RA: If another RA had a bigger capacity for something, I felt jealous. If someone on the floor had an idea for facilitating community that I hadn’t had, I felt threatened. This was an enormous hindrance to loving my community and when we left, I slowly realized how many opportunities I had missed because of my habit of comparison.

Deny those thoughts. Don’t entertain them. Recognize the lack, shame, or insecurity you feel and identify where it comes from—then RUN to Jesus and remember that if He thought you should be someone else, He wouldn’t have made you who you are—but He did. There is security in that.

10.  Don’t skimp on time with Jesus.

One day last year, I was in my friend Zoë’s room and found myself complaining about what I wished God would do in my life.

“Have you been reading your Bible?” she asked.

“Well, no,” I said, not missing a beat before excuses came pouring out my mouth.

She interrupted me. “Get out of here and go read your Bible, woman!”

She was right. In the midst of suffering and stress, I had grown lazy in coming to Jesus. I realized afresh in that moment how vital time with Him was, not only to my well-being, but to my ministry.

By no means do I have a perfect record, since then, but I’ve given up the lie that there is ever a time I can’t come to Jesus. He will have me and some fruit will come of it. His word does not return void (Isaiah 55:11).

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There ya have it! Fellow RAs, ministers, or people in general--what are your top ten (or five or two)? I'd love to hear your hard-won lessons in the comments!

More to come on RA, Year Two, very soon, I am quite certain...