Had you asked me about the importance of martial arts eight years ago, I would have given you an answer quite different from the one I would provide today. In the fall of 2015, I began Taekwondo as a white belt. As someone who struggled with managing my anger, struggling to smash a board or chamber my foot felt humiliating. Specific forms felt repetitive, and I was tired of saying "Yes, sir!" in frustration to those above me. Looking back on where I started, Taekwondo was never about the technique or the power behind a roundhouse kick, the width of a mountain block, or where endurance could take me. Taekwondo illuminated me to the power of control. If I couldn't stop a kick from hitting a younger student in sparring drills, it became apparent that I wouldn't be a successful martial artist or student. Working with younger black belts through different forms and varying degrees of precise techniques caused me to consider how my choices impact others. A kind word to someone different reflects the nature of who I needed to be. Of all the lessons I learned in martial arts, there was no emphasis on power or technique. And while kicking hard and correctly is acceptable, controlling emotions, words, and thoughts has more practicality in academics. I learned such lessons through trial and error by correcting my frustration, and I plan to implement them in my future career as I strive to be a "skilled" martial artist.

Everyone should read "Where the Crawdads Sing," by Delia Owens. Through a heroic yet humbling story of a young girl abandoned in a marsh, the power of commitment and true love manifests itself in the ability to change lives. Kya is abandoned by her brother Jodi and her family because of the abusive nature of their uncle: drinking and throwing things -- an impossible relationship to amend. From a young age, Kya demonstrates that we always have what is necessary to succeed. At the novel's beginning, Kya has nothing: thread-bare clothes, a diet of food out of the trash, smoked fish, and mussels. Situations seem to get worse for Kya. However, a young man named Tate emotionally supports Kya: providing for her; while teaching her how to read and sexually mature. Furthermore, later in the novel, Kya is sexually attacked by a man who yearned to take advantage of her beauty. As a result, Kya kills her attacker and is thrown into jail. Consequently, upon considering this story, several things are apparent to me. The process of accepting people for who they are is challenging for me. Comparatively, Tom Milton, Kya's lawyer, asks the judge to consider how people have viewed Kya. This underlines the abuse that Kya experienced as a child. The judge is forced to reconsider his own prejudices he has taken for granted. For instance, we often don't consider the circumstances of others. Kya defended herself for a reasonable cause against the man that assaulted her. People in the town jumped to conclusions about Kya and labeled her "filthy" and "disgusting" without understanding her. There were times in my life when I had labeled someone as incorrect and was ashamed later to admit that they were right. Tom Milton points out people rejected Kya because she was different. People had jumped to conclusions about who Kya was based on their social intolerance. After finishing this novel, I have learned that people must examine their own biases allowing them to treat others with the compassion they deserve. Kya successfully experiences true love with Tate because she realizes that his love for her is not based on his own prejudices but on her well-being. Kya's daunting story show's the need for companionship and endurance in life's trials and tribulations, molding an accurate portrayal of how we should treat and view others.

This world is divided, broken, and shattered. We are taught to find our way, doing what we need to do in order to survive. However, if we see the world through other peoples eye's, we can envision the impact God's love can infuse into the wreckage of addiction, disease, and broken relationships. By volunteering after school and working during the summer, I have learned that acts of service can be life-changing -- changing my perspective on what it means to serve: doing nothing out of selfish ambition but considering others better than yourselves. Primarily, my inspiration to serve comes from what God can do through people who serve honestly and wholeheartedly. I recognize that my motives can be wrong, and I have to view people the way God sees them: people in need of his grace. Above all, I want to be a conduit of his grace with my actions and service, as well as an accurate representation of him. Kindness, humility, and servitude drive people to exemplify the character of Jesus so others may follow him. Additionally, when people have been mistreated their entire life, they never experienced the power of Christian service. It brings me joy to see a person's heart melt, -- kissed by the fragrant lips of grace. To illustrate this point, someone is violently attacked. The victim turns around and embraces the attacker, praying and blessing him. Subsequently, the attacker is taken aback out of words, overwhelmed by genuine kindness he never felt. Nonetheless, when I genuinely and cheerfully do things for people I am hesitant to do, I am overjoyed when they give me a kind response. Primarily, I began serving in my last two years of high school through a program called the National Honor Society. I would help teachers set up their classrooms, run concession stands during athletic competitions, and dress up in Halloween costumes for toddlers. With these toddlers, I tried to be extremely friendly. I would smile while making jokes that would brighten their day. Additionally, I try to be incredibly productive when I run the concession stands. For instance, if nobody comes to the concession stand, I prepare food in advance, wiping down the counters if I can. When I am asked to assist the teachers at my school; also, I attempt to nourish new relationships. I try to respect their integrity and ideas while walking away challenged. Furthermore, my 2021 summer job consisted of many tiring tasks: wiping theater seats, pulling weeds, and being charitable in my demeanor. I didn't become discouraged because I knew the result was equivalent to the amount of labor. Comparatively, I've worked as a tutor for the A+ program at my school. I enjoyed getting to experience students' personalities and challenging them in ways that would help them succeed academically. Likewise, I am participating in an advocacy group at my school. Several others and I will go into a classroom with materials, giving presentations about school topics and personal issues. We try to build relationships with students who don't have a voice. When I overcame fear and began to know many of the students, I had a greater perspective on who I was. Struggles defined who I was until somebody sat with me in my pain. Whether it's my current job of cart-pushing at a grocery store, cleaning up trash in the school bathroom, or doing things I don't like; I serve with the heart of Jesus. A heart that uproots the wrong motives, planting soil that empowers people to pursue him.

There is pressure in our lives to compare ourselves to other people. Status, acceptance, and identity hang from a tree that we can never grasp. We strain to reach and catch society's fruit, struggling to push ourselves against the wind of personal failure. We need somebody to propel us to greater heights-- a ladder under our feet. My Christian faith has taught I am capable of doing all things through my personal limitations. I want to use theology to help others recognize that our own weaknesses don't define who we are. I never have quickly understood things. Since the beginning of my educational career, school has been a monumental struggle. Eternity passes before I pick up on concepts other kids understand easily. I've felt ashamed, hurt, and forgotten when I don't understand something. I look at the bright students around me, hoping to be like them. Others' perceptions of me tear the inside of my soul as I worry about asking for help. I want to scream -- tell people I don't understand. Tears burn my eyes as anxiety causes me to become overwhelmed. I feel like crawling into a hole in the floor, forgetting about life. The barrage of turmoil causes me to fall behind -- resulting in me spending hours on homework. Additionally, I often don't know what to say in conversations because of social anxiety. I want to be heard with a voice that speaks when silence dominates. Financially, I don't want to be limited to transforming myself and the lives of others. Growing up with only one parent and frequently wearing hand-me-downs has reminded me that others have more than me. Often my family isn't able to pay for repairs around our house due to our tight financial budget. Usually, we seek loans and grants from the government to pay our medical bills. My parents have had to borrow some of the money from the jobs I have worked to cover some of our expenses. It frustrates me as I am hoping to save some of the money I have earned for college. I want to give hope to people who are less fortunate than me. I believe everyone should have a chance to succeed despite their circumstances. There is always a way to succeed. Upon accepting sorrow and anger, I realized that God is greater than my feelings. When I am undone, I have the opportunity to fix myself. I have combated this by getting up at 5 am to get things done. Staying in bed won't get me anywhere. I'll talk with teachers every day about what I don't understand. I'll send emails and stay after school, reminding myself that God has given me the ability to succeed. When I can't work anymore, I'll get down on my knees and pray -- asking for strength to carry on. I have the resolve to power through; sometimes I need assistance finding it. With this scholarship, I can devote more time to my undergraduate studies. I'll have access to the resources to reach out to professionals. I hope to have the training to encourage people who are weary of their struggles. As a result, I will be able to speak into the lives of a broad spectrum of people. I hope to become an intern: learning how to teach, support, and provide for those who don't have a voice. I want people to use theology as a tool that leads them to success. Our circumstances are blessings that empower us to remember that we can succeed despite the hindrances the world throws against us.

Our society has become intensely divided. As a result, we are quick to label ourselves as correct, while we immediately shun other people for their beliefs. We become quick to anger and slow to listen. Our biases can cause us to see things in people that aren't true. Comparatively, If we understand where people are coming from, there will be a greater awareness of why people think a certain way. As a member of the autistic community, I have been fighting to support the voices of those who can not speak up for themselves. I have defended those whose behavior is verbally attacked and have helped to bring peace through personal advocacy of the autistic community. We are quick to exclude those who are different from us. Those who identify a certain way, carry different religious beliefs or have unusual personalities. I have seen the attack on the autistic community on the job. As a cart pusher at my local grocery store, I work with several autistic people, and I see their brilliance despite their personalities. One of my coworkers is incredibly attentive to detail with cleaning carts, and he doesn't miss a single shopping cart that needs to be cleaned. Others I work with can keep a parking lot immaculately spotless -- not a shopping cart in sight. My coworker will even follow other customers around to get their shopping carts. I find this incredible. Several autistic coworkers I work with have more patience with customers than people off the spectrum. However, these qualities are ignored entirely. Our manner of behavior is critiqued as frustrating, stupid, and sloppy. We are told we can't do anything, but only perform what we are asked to do. The autistic community has gifts that need to be honed and cherished. We need to be understood and respected, so our talents can shine. Every person deserves a place in this society, no matter their mannerisms, personality, or how they fit in with the rest of us. Furthermore, I have taken steps to be more understanding of people who are on the spectrum. I talk about things that interest them: music, their girlfriends, or things that make them smile. I am there for them and check on their personal needs: hydration, comfort, and acceptance. My goal is to build relationships -- ultimately building connections for people who have never had the privilege of being heard. My steps have had momentous results. With this in mind, I have seen my autistic coworkers open up to express themselves in ways they were previously afraid to. Greeting people who would previously exclude them and walking into places where they aren't welcome. I want society to relate with people on the spectrum. By the same token, having little friends throughout my high school career has reminded me that I need to be the friend these people have never had. A true friend is someone who defends, respects, and includes anybody different from us. Likewise, I have continued my advocacy for the autistic community by joining a positive peer influence group at my school. I give classroom presentations about building better friend groups, appropriate ways to communicate with teachers, and managing stress about school work. These presentations often seem awkward as I feel the pain of walking in these students' shoes. These students are broken by anxiety, torn by exclusion, and worn out from life. Subsequently, our group will bring icebreakers to lighten up the stress in the lives of these students. Seeing students speak up who are usually quiet has taught me that a great number of people need to be accepted. People are fighting battles we know nothing about. Correspondingly, I hope people will see the struggles I have in presenting, so they realize that I am fighting for them. Overall, I want the autistic community to know I have been in their shoes. I've walked the dusty paths where their hearts have ached. I've seen the potential in these young minds, held back by fear of fitting in. It's time for us to include the autistic community in our society.

I know every tear I have cried has served a purpose. From an early age, I was diagnosed with Aspergers. Kids would constantly harass me as I couldn't talk until I was five. My solitude continued to boil in the depths of my soul. I felt that nobody understood me: a one-sided mirror, full of beauty and glory on the outside but unstable inside. Through the darkness, I have learned that there is always a time to rejoice. A time to rejoice when others have what one doesn't. I didn't understand why I would cry. Why would evenings remind me of the darkness that would continue to shadow me? I tried to keep friends, but they caught a glimpse of the OCD and depression I was hiding. I became verbally aggressive and abusive. The flurry of pain lept into barrages on the people around me; until I couldn't control it myself. I became suicidal and was put into a boarding school once and a hospital three times. That is where I gave my life to Christ. Jesus walked into my cell and comforted me as my head was underneath the waves. I learned that my life wasn't over in a mental hospital. Although I had relatively good grades, I knew that God could mend the shattered mirror of my self-worth. I came to understand that there were other people like me. People would ask me to sit and play with legos. People would sit in the circle of my pain, and a shimmer of unity would empower those around me. I was helping other people! Although the food tasted horrible, I rejoiced because others back home had better food. Although I missed the people I saw in my classes, I was happy they weren't in a difficult situation like mine. There were days in which I didn't make it. Days where I would collapse after panic attacks after my Father abused me and disappeared from my life. Everything I had been through encouraged me to push through this moment. My OCD would keep me up at night, and for many years I had trouble sleeping due to personal anxiety and PTSD. I told myself I would continue to rejoice. Life would get better. Others came along to support me. Therapy taught me how to establish personal boundaries and keep a group of friends. My friends left me soon after I entered high school due to my religious beliefs. However, I had joy as I knew others loved me. I knew in my pain of blowups and physical violence that I could make amends. My hope came from Jesus Christ as I knew he still loved me as I was. I plan to pursue a ministry in Christian counseling. Sometimes we need to bear each other's burdens. People need somebody to understand the battles people fight from a stance of humility. I am touched by how people forgave me despite how much destruction I have inflicted upon them. I want to mourn and share the sorrow other families feel. No one can ever prepare you for the despair of being in the dark. Alone. Afraid. Families shouldn't have to deal with such suffering alone. I want to be there with them every step of the way. Thank you

Having Autism is a burden few understand, a joy that shimmers within, and a continual battle as I struggle to find my place in this world. Few understand the weight of handling anxiety during conversations, keeping true friends, or hiding waves of sorrow within. Although I feel broken inside, my experiences have taught me that it is okay to be different, as being different is how we change the world. Despite my continual battles, I have found reasons to rejoice. I rejoice as each day is a chance where circumstances may improve. Since the beginning of my educational career, school has been a monumental struggle. Eternity passes before I pick up on concepts other kids understand easily. I've felt ashamed, hurt, and forgotten when I don't understand something. Others' perceptions of me tear the inside of my soul if I raise my hand for help. I want to scream -- tell people I don't understand. Tears burn my eyes as anxiety causes me to become overwhelmed. I want to crawl into a hole in the floor. The barrage of turmoil causes me to fall behind -- resulting in me spending hours on homework. I often don't know what to say in conversations due to intense discomfort. I want to be heard with a voice that speaks when silence dominates. Consequently, I've become isolated. The few friends I have had and lost remind me that no matter how cruel the world may be, I continue to defy my expectations. I've begun to view my circumstances through a different lens. A lens through which there is the opportunity to keep pushing yourself. I've pushed myself to wrestle with anxiety while reminding myself I was never alone. When tears clouded my vision, I believed in myself despite what people thought. The many restless nights of depression have shown me that I am strong and capable, despite how our society labels people with Aspergers. The frustration of the misconceptions about people with Aspergers has inspired me to pursue a degree in theological studies. Theology has been a pacifier for my Asperger's as it has rigid structures. Notions of rules and regulations serve as a coping mechanism for me. A mechanism that allows me to order myself while loving other people for who they are. My heart is calling me to be a teacher in theology. With this scholarship, I will be able to devote more of my time to my undergraduate studies. I'll be able to have the resources to reach out to professionals and have the training to develop a voice for the autistic spectrum. As a result, I will be able to speak into the lives of a broad spectrum of people. I hope to become an intern: learning how to teach, support, and provide for those who don't have a voice. Seeing the autistic community underrepresented has moved my heart. A community that remains vigilant despite the frequent harassment. A community yearning for positive changes. I want the autistic community to know I have been in their shoes. I've walked the dusty paths where their hearts have ached. I've seen the potential in these young minds, held back by fear of fitting in. It's time for this to change.

When I began volunteering, I didn't always understand the end result. I couldn't fathom that joy came from viewing the world's problems through other people's eyes. As I have grown older, I have begun to see that service isn't forced out of the heart, but service is the touch of humility -- realizing that others are fighting battles we know nothing about. Initially, I expected to be rewarded for every ounce of work I poured into other people's lives. I expected to be appreciated, my name on a plaque with gold letters. I elevated myself above other people. When I began a custodial job in my local community, I worked extremely hard to be recognized. Wiping chairs and sweeping trash off of bleachers felt pointless. My joy was draining out of me. I realized that my motives were wrong and selfish. This is where my conception of service began to change radically. Service isn't a contest of superiority or recognition. Feeding my ego was only going to tear down others while building my pride. After rethinking my motives, I understood exactly where I went wrong. I completely ignored how true joy came from selflessly associating myself with the weak, remembering that others gave to me when I was in need. I began to understand how much people appreciated someone who wasn't working to be recognized. People need fellowship and grace. Someone with a smile on their face; unloading groceries into a car. Someone who greets and checks in with those who often feel forgotten. The competition for me began to be how quickly I could put a smile on someone's face. I knew my charitable intentions had a purpose, even if I didn't recognize it. I believe that service is an appreciation and outpouring of charity, as I have been blessed by others' kindness in my own life. When I was scarred and bruised, others came and sat beside me. Others helped me to walk when I couldn't stand. Consequently, I know I should do the same. Comparatively, the perspective of other's situations has been remarkable. I learned that I could walk away challenged with the continual hunger to do good. When I spent dozens of hours tutoring students after school, I didn't do it to build my self-image. I am reminded I can succeed and focus in class when people take the time to explain information that is hard to understand. Financially, I don't want to be limited to transforming myself and the lives of others. Growing up with only one parent and frequently wearing the same clothes has reminded me that others are not as lucky. Often my family isn't able to pay for repairs around our house due to our tight financial budget. Usually, we seek loans and grants from the government to treat some of my mental health issues. My mom has had to borrow some of the money from the jobs I have worked to pay some of our expenses. It frustrates me as I am hoping to save some of the money I have earned for college. I want to give hope to people who are less fortunate than me. I believe everyone should have a chance to succeed despite their circumstances.

Jail can not only be literal but metaphorical as well. Our pasts can become barriers to which our pain and experiences confine us. People who abuse us lock us into dungeons through which we are unable to escape. We bang on the bars pleading for mercy; asking for somebody to understand us. People walk by us, labeling humans inside as filthy and unworthy. Until my Father was put into jail, I never experienced freedom for myself. I had a vibrant relationship with my Father for two-thirds of my life. My Father was the person that was always buying me things to cover up his fragile motives and intentions. Although he seemed to provide for me, he was never there when I needed him. A heart-breaking divorce between my parents shattered the unity created in many nights spent at Arcades and building legos. I love him deeply, but I realized that he used what I love to be deceptive. The true personality of my Father began to shine. My Father was not the person I had discovered. Religion was a gateway through which he manipulated me. Through my Father's manipulation, I began to turn my back on my family, becoming suicidal and violent. Things quickly spiraled out of control. I was abused by my Father one night in ways that I am unable to describe. I was threatened with being condemned to hell if the voices banging on the bars of my past spoke up. I attempted to hide the events of that night while I was bribed with money. It took 5 long years to put my own Father in prison. A barrage of pointless investigations, testimonies to others, and suffering put justice into its place. It was hard to believe there was a purpose in my suffering. I have learned no matter how quickly we run away from our mistakes, we have to face our past. We have to be accountable for the pain and destruction we cause in the lives of other people. A past like this has taught me that the errors of the best of people; loveable or not, can be learned from. I want to use the mistakes of my own Father to better myself and others; making right the things he didn't. I plan to pursue a degree in Christian Theology. My goal is not to change other people's beliefs, but to sit with people in their suffering. I hope to provide peaceful informative content. Content dedicated to setting people free from the doors of their past. I want people to see that sorrow and trauma don't determine their worth. God does. Ultimately, what people intend for evil can be used for good. Good that shows mercy to the inflictor but doesn't forget the suffering caused.

My life hasn't been easy, but I know every tear I have cried has served a purpose. From an early age, I was diagnosed with Aspergers. Kids would constantly harass me as I wasn't able to talk until I was 5. My solitude continued to boil in the cavities of my soul. I felt that nobody understood me: a one-sided mirror; full of beauty and glory on the outside but unstable on the inside. Through the darkness, I have learned that there is always a time to rejoice. A time to rejoice when others have what one doesn't. I didn't understand why I would cry. Why would evenings remind me of the darkness that would continue to shadow me? I tried to keep friends but they caught a glimpse of the OCD and depression I was hiding. I became verbally aggressive and abusive. The flurry of pain lept into barrages on the people around me, until I couldn't control it myself. I became suicidal and was put into a boarding school once and a hospital three times. That is where I gave my life to Christ. Jesus walked into my cell and comforted me as my head was underneath the waves. I learned that my life wasn't over in a mental hospital. Although I had relatively good grades I knew that God could mend the shattered mirror of my self-worth. I came to understand that there were other people like me. People would ask me to sit and play with legos. People would all understand me and a shimmer of unity seemed to encourage me to keep going. Although the food tasted bad I rejoiced because others back home had better food. Although I missed some of my classmates, I was happy they weren't in a difficult situation like mine. There were days in which I didn't make it. Days where I would come and collapse after panic attacks after my Father abused me and left. Everything I had been through encouraged me to push through this moment. My OCD would keep me up at night, and for many years I slept on my mother's floor due to personal anxiety and PTSD from my past. I told myself I will continue to rejoice. Life would get better. Others came along to support me. Therapy came taught me how to establish personal boundaries and keep a group of friends. My friends left me soon after I entered high school due to my religious beliefs. I had joy as I knew others loved me still. I knew in my pain of blowups and physical violence that there was still hope. Hope came from Jesus Christ as I knew he still loved me as I was. I plan to pursue a ministry in Christian counseling. Sometimes we need to bear each other's burdens. People need somebody to understand the torment people go through without judging them. The greatest change I experienced was how people saw the good in me despite how much destruction I have inflicted upon this world. I want to weep with those who weep and rejoice with those rejoicing. No matter the scars or wounds that cloak our past there are hope and chances to glorify God. I know many more tears will fall, but I know that my brokenness is a chance for God's grace to shine into the lives of other people.

Integrity encompasses my everyday life. Reaping the joys of personal fruit is cultivated through a journey of personal growth. Integrity means living up to the standards God has placed on our lives: in work, at home, and in instances where respect is difficult to give. Integrity has started to shine naturally as I look upon my flaws with grace. I see the clockwork of my inability to see situations from the eyes of a crippled person, a person with Autism who needs extra assistance, or a person with ideas that make me uncomfortable. These people need the touch of love and I have started by volunteering to unload groceries and assist people at my job. Integrity looks like me nonjudgmentally doing simple tasks on computers for people who don't understand them. Additionally, integrity moves me to see that I am not doing these tasks out of recognition but as a token of appreciation for the people who have poured love and grace into my life. Last summer when I volunteered as a custodian at my local City Hall, I wanted to be recognized. Integrity is doing the right thing when nobody is watching. When I spent many hours wiping theater chairs I wanted to quit. I thought it was dumb and stupid. I thought you worked to be rewarded. Integrity doesn't expect a reward. Many of my Walmart job afternoons as a cart pusher were spent assisting a coworker who doesn't do very much. I would do the best I can to keep carts stocked on crazy holiday afternoons. My coworker enjoys riding motorized carts and cleaning things. I became frustrated that he wasn't helping me. Coming from the same background I knew the inner joy he would have if I gave up the easier parts of my job such as refiling cleaning supplies -- being a thing he enjoys. Seeing how people change when I change myself continues to motivate me to climb the mountain of integrity.

The inner cries of the human heart long for peace and sanity. Each tumultuous wave crashing upon itself is just one stroke on life's canvas. Our stories emerge as transient raindrops, puddles of clouded emotions depicting the fragments of the unknown. Can peace stretched into the finite cosmos be grasped? This is the question that has befuddled the world. By pursuing a degree in theological studies, I can irenically be an example to others to perpetually seek the hope that lies in Jesus Christ, ultimately bettering themselves and the world around them. Primarily, my interest in theological studies sprang from the complexities of my Autism. The picture of our days on this earth are often not depictions of black and white images. People favor or shun other Christians based on what they believe. However, I tend to visualize information one-sidely. Religion has bedrock foundations that often can not be drilled through, nor do people have a vivid perception of it. I want people to be good while ensuring any rules are intact. Fortunately, this world is not a dictatorship. I feel that my Autism is part of this perception. I desire -- parts of me want to respectfully force people to gaze through the clouds that fog my perception. From my experience, I am a keen observer of details, and this world has been quick to chastise and slam caricatures of other people's beliefs. As a result, opinions have been quickly disrupted, and I want to provide talking points to get the ball rolling. Additionally, I desire to pursue an interest in further study of Christian theology. I plan to publish several books and start a YouTube channel about how Christianity differs from other religions. Moreover, a great number of people tend to debate back and forth without resolving the crux of the matter. The greatest thing for me is to be able to disagree without being condescending and sacrificing my convictions. The breath that refreshes the lungs is less anger in conversations as shown in personal attacks. I want to encourage dialogue rather than shutting people down. Love is the most empowering aspect of sharing dialogue in conversations. When I approach and discuss theology with humility, I leave with a greater appreciation for opposing viewpoints. I have been amazed by the commonality other people share. Understanding where people are coming from has been a monumental eye-opener for me. Furthermore, I believe that a degree in theology will be of assistance to myself and the people around me. As millions of people on the Autism spectrum can attest, anxiety can be a debilitating burden. This burden is alleviated when someone is understood. Additionally, raising an autistic child can be crippling. I intend to provide comfort for families struggling with these issues through my educational content. I have worked with many people with autism, and a remarkable amount of them have turned to God with questions about their identity and who they are. The result of people coming to God has erupted an unquenchable fountain of joy in my soul. What would bring the autistic community peace is knowing that there are genuine answers in community and fellowship. We aren’t meant to be gathered and thrown aside. We have purpose and meaning. Compassion is forged through understanding and purified through empathy. Christianity is statistically, morally, and emotionally proven to have answers for a fallen world. I pray that God will use my interests and talents to illuminate light into the darkness of this fallen world.

Failure is a success. The only loss for the runner sprinting across the bounding hills of life is refusing to rise up again upon bloody knuckles, damp tears, --or, rather, the burden of broken dreams. Like precious jewels, we are refined in the furnace of our trials. Throughout the circumstances of life, we only achieve success by throwing off the chains of limitations that we coil around ourselves. By wallowing in our sorrows we only prevent ourselves from achieving the possibilities that lay beyond us. Failure is a monumental asset in the eyes of the beholder. Additionally, failure is ultimately what humbles us. The times when we gaze upon the distant outcomes; vanishing before us, cultivates our inner drive. We have to be willing to feed ourselves on constructive criticism so that we can become more successful. Our ego will destroy us time and time again: unless we admit we are in the margins of error. Consequently, we are driven to analyze new strategies for our goals. Nevertheless, I believe this mindset will bring me success in life as the times I grew the most were when the clouds in my eyes were the darkest. My personal struggles with managing my anxiety, extra-curricular activities, and personal life highlighted the personal importance of perseverance. I've seen myself reach places by changing my perspective on what failure signifies to me. I have realized that failure is a beautiful gift -- life-changing, heartbreaking, and tremendously powerful.

Christianity is a thinking religion. A religion formed by fishermen, poets, prophets, and people who understood there was greater meaning beyond themselves. Consequently, how does one satisfy the insatiability of the unknown? Since I am pursuing a career in Christian theology, I believe I can bring young children to accept the puzzle about themselves while driving young minds towards inward peace and communication skills that are not found assuredly. Peace protrudes from the outer bounds of the human mind. Peace is a true jewel: unable to be forged through the flames, it can not be bought with any quantity of money, nor is it found in the murky depths of the sea. In the unity of minds, peace anguishes to unite the faint and brokenhearted. Accordingly, no matter the quantity of knowledge that stumpers in their minds, children can not find rest. Nevertheless, we find ourselves hunting through social media, books, and hobbies, yet peace lingers externally beyond us. Suprisingly, theology is the key that unlocks the chains of the unknown. Additionally, through my personal experience of having Asperger's, I found through my own presumptions that I don't know everything. I read books, and articles, and solved Rubix Cubes to find peace. Yet peace was a distant dream. The answer to quieting the insomnia of my mind was my own personal faith. Moreover, theology is shown to benefit sharp minds. According to a recent study published by Loyola Press, "Gifted thinkers are research-oriented and thrive on investigative learning, and they can actively seek opportunities to assimilate aspects of their life into their religious education. Real problems and situations provide an opportunity for moral decision-making and the development of moral intelligence. They also enjoy rigorous dialogue that explores the heart of the lesson." Human gifts are as fragile as broken glass. Ultimately, this will give children the ability to nose-dive into their destiny. On the other hand, head injuries can impair the knowledge expressed in the astute so expressively. Broken bones can forcefully stop the unlimited bounds of progress in talented athletes. Theology teaches our pupils to be appropriate stewards of the gifts they carry. However, when we trust in someone rather than ourselves we accept the fragile boundaries of human limitations. These children carry the keys to the kingdom, and ample is stewarded to those who can change the world. Furthermore, with children who change the world, theology teaches us that knowledge doesn't define reason, faith defines purpose, and weakness is turned into strength. Many of these children excel in one area but have never been thrown against the ropes in others. If we train our children to become intellects how do we mold them into endurance athletes or scientists? Theology teaches society that depending on others in life is a necessity. Conversely, theology doesn't rid life of negative emotions rather it comforts us through the process. Life is buttered with negative emotions and strength comes from building endurance over time. Christianity teaches us to bring our heartache and suffering to God. Christianity invites exceptional thinkers to be bold in how they present themselves to God while engaging the clockwork of their minds in the process. Likewise, many bright children on the Autism spectrum can become anti-social cardboard boxes. notwithstanding this, studies have shown that "third-graders’ psychological adjustment and social competence were positively associated with various religious factors." Ordinarily, theology also causes us to become irenically passionate about what we believe. All in all, without theology, no child has any form of moral compass and is there no higher moral law above us. Theology invites others to gain perspective and visualize the facets of truth that lie within our minds. In conclusion, theology is a river of possibilities. We must stretch the potential of today's intellects to uncharted territory. Each day on this planet is limited. Theology is the key that unlocks the next generation of thinkers. Citations: The gifts of the gifted. Loyola Press. (2020, April 28). Retrieved October 12, 2022, from https://www.loyolapress.com/catholic-resources/parish-ministry/special-needs/for-catechists-and-teachers/the-gifts-of-the-gifted/ Pedersen, T. (2019, February 9). How does religion impact child development? Psych Central. Retrieved October 12, 2022, from https://psychcentral.com/news/2019/02/09/how-does-religion-impact-child-development#1 Emotions and faith: The perplexing relationship between what we feel and what we believe. Columbia Theological Seminary. (n.d.). Retrieved October 12, 2022, from https://www.ctsnet.edu/at-this-point/emotions-faith-perplexing-relationship-feel-believe/ Raising gifted children right. Homeschool World. (n.d.). Retrieved October 12, 2022, from https://www.home-school.com/Articles/raising-gifted-children-right.php