The Gift of Fun

by Taylor Vashro, Class of 2018

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth! Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into his presence with singing! Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Psalm 100:1-3

Fellows Blog November Taylor.png

“I just want to play…” sighed one of my fellow Fellows in the midst of a retreat as we reflected on the emotional exhaustion we were both feeling after the first few months of Fellows. A lot of what we do in the Fellows program is extremely life-giving, but can also be heavy and emotionally draining. So what did we do? We got up and played!

In my time at Virginia Tech (GO HOKIES), I studied Human Nutrition, Foods and Exercise and distinctly remember learning about the seven dimensions of wellness in my Health Counseling class. The seven dimensions include: social, emotional, spiritual, environmental, occupational, intellectual and physical wellness. Each dimension individually contributes to overall wellness and also overlaps to potentially affect each other. If you are satisfied in six dimensions but largely neglect one dimension, it will impact your overall health as well as potentially hinder your wellness in other dimensions. According to the seven dimensions of wellness model, being physically active and mitigating emotional stress are essential for our overall health and also spiritual wellness.

Thankfully, in the midst of all the introspection, journaling, processing, and crying we have also been blessed with the gift of having fun! From rock climbing and white water rafting during our orientation retreat to using free time at conferences for sports and games, our Fellows class has been very intentional about prioritizing physical activity and fun. As a group this has looked like a myriad of activities: hiking, running, painting, exploring culture, karaoke, rock climbing, playing instruments, cooking and even serving together.

Our spiritual wellness can best be reflected to the world when we appropriately steward our time and gifts to care for our overall wellness and the temple for the Holy Spirit that dwells within us: “Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you?” (1 Corinthians 3:16). As a surprise to most, we’re not only learning how to glorify God through our vocation and hard work, but also through rest and fun in the midst of the pandemonium of life. We’ve discovered that the freedom we find in Christ allows us to rejoice and play, not in attempt to be fully satisfied by these hobbies, but to compliment the fulfillment we find in our relationship with Christ, “He satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things” (Psalm 107:9).

There will definitely be seasons of life where hardships, mentally and physically, will have an unavoidable effect on us. However, in this year we have the opportunity to develop habits that prioritize all dimensions of wellness so that we may flourish the way God designed us to. When learning about the Fellows program and all that it entails, no one promised us time to play, yet this time has been a vital aspect of this program and one that I pray continues to be a God given gift for the rest of our lives!

Gathering Around a Table

by Hugh Stephens, Class of 2018

As the trees begin to explode into hues of red, yellow, orange, I find it hard to describe the beauty that Charlottesville holds in the fall. This beauty marks the end of an exciting summer with winter beginning to show its first signs. As the summer season comes to a close, it seems that the Fellows Program has also arrived at the end of its first cycle. August and September were filled with new beginnings, fresh jobs, perfect friends, and adventures. As the cold begins to set in so do the mundanities of life. Even in such an exciting world the weekly routine has begun to weigh heavy: jobs are, for some, challenging and unglamorous; life is busy; and, believe it or not, the men or women in this program are not as perfect as they once seemed. Amidst all these fresh realities, it is through a weekly meal that I am reminded just how fortunate I am to be a Trinity Fellow.

The lessons and memories I have made around a table are fundamental to the man that I am today. I can still feel the joy that would swell up in me as a teenager walking into my home in Memphis, when the aroma of my momma’s cooking would first waft into my nose. She always sings as she cooks, and her voice has always been molasses to my ears, slow and sweet, reminding me of the joys to come as we would gather together for supper. What I loved most about my family supper is that we committed to that time together regardless of any circumstantial difficulties. Some nights we loathed one another and ended the meal in frustration, but for the most part we talked and laughed with each other, quickly forgetting any tensions that existed. Comfort flowed from that table every time that I took my seat. The table was always a place of renewal in my life, and I am so thankful that it continues to be so in this Fellows year.

Every single Monday, amidst the hustle and bustle of the world, the Fellows gather together for a home-cooked meal, and week after week this evening means more to me than any other. There is nothing that puts my mind at ease after a busy Monday more than walking into the Doran’s home to a bouquet of friendly faces, familiar voices, and delicious smells of the meal to come. Just as with my family, there are times when I wish for a night to myself. A night where I could just watch a movie sometimes sounds favorable to congregating with twenty people, but these feelings quickly dissipate into a cherished affection for all who have come to feast together. Something almost magical occurs when eating with someone and pouring out past experiences, feelings, or even what has happened during the past twenty-four hours.

After supper, music permeates the living room and fills us all as we gather for worship. What a blessing to be able to pause on a Monday evening and re-center our lives after the opening day of the work week. Worship is succeeded by a hodge-podge of various speakers, seminars, and discussions. Missionaries working for Surge swept us away to Africa as they shared their experiences with us; anger swelled within us as we discussed the pain of the August 12th rally in Charlottesville; and we have heard from one another the ways in which we have seen God in the simplicities of life. Most importantly, we gather. We spend time together, and receive the imperative reminder that at the end of the day, even in the loneliest of weeks, we have a family here. The perfect bookend to a wonderful night is the singing of the doxology and the charge to go out and bring the renewal and joy of Christ to our world. As I wander back to my car each week I thank God for the feast given to my body and my soul.

The cold of fall has always been, to me, a welcomed friend. I enjoy the feeling of crisp air on my skin and in my lungs and the warmth wrapped around me by my favorite sweatshirt. It gives me a feeling of comfort that the warmer months simply do not offer. So too, the mundaneness of life, the annoyances in friends, and the longings for home force me to wrap myself up in the things that give me warmth. The beauty of this program is not that all aspects of life are perfect, but rather that they are not. It is amidst the frustrating mundanities of life that true growth comes, and it is the love that can permeate frustrations that offers genuine warmth. For me, that warmth has always come while gathering around a table.

The Narrative Begins

by Elise Hearne, Class of 2018

This summer, as I prepared to move across the country to begin Fellows in Charlottesville, I didn’t know what to expect and wondered what it would look like to enter into a year of fellowship with fifteen strangers. A month in, my mind lingers on the word “story.” Each member of this year’s Trinity Fellows class has a story that has taken them to places and experiences that no one else has seen. We carry with us the cumulative influence of our families, friends, hometowns, universities, and many more transformative life experiences. This year, our stories overlap in a beautiful way.

As we settled into our cool metal chairs for the first day of orientation, I glanced around at a room comprised of fifteen faces I only recognized from recent Facebook stalking and wondered where we would possibly begin. The first few days were a whirlwind of information and expectations. We spent hours frantically scribbling down notes and important dates into our notebooks, pausing briefly to permanently damage our retinas from the eclipse, before continuing to listen to lectures. During one of these lectures, Tim Jones, the Director of Community and Care at Trinity, first introduced the importance of “story.” He explained that we tell ourselves stories in order to live. Yet we don’t live in a vacuum. We connect our own storylines to grander narratives.

Two weeks ago, sitting in a circle on the floor of a family room as rain fell through the fog over the lake outside, we began to walk each other through the turning points of our lives. From the major life events and decisions to some of the smaller narratives that make us who we are, I was amazed by the trust and vulnerability displayed. After sharing both beautiful and immensely painful aspects of our lives, we were embraced by empathetic tears and life-giving words. This willingness to allow others into our stories in raw, unadulterated ways is a perfect picture of how transformative and renewing this year can be. In the peaks and valleys, we have made the commitment to love one another and nurture this community as we grow together in wisdom and grace.

Everyone in that room understood that this group was a safe place to be fully known. We no longer needed to force ourselves to appear “okay” by any standard, but were challenged to admit our faults, insecurities, and struggles. As the weekend drew to a close and the weight of these stories hung in the air, we leaned into one another. We shared meals. We sang with each other. We prayed for the presence of God to heal and comfort each one of us.

In a matter of weeks, these friends have become some of the most influential people in my life. Knowing me and choosing to enter into my story, they challenge me to grow as I learn more about who I am, who God is, and who each of them are.

As our stories continue to develop, I am grateful for the fifteen caring friends who bolster me to learn more about the larger narrative of our lives.  I’m grateful for a community that has opened their homes, fridges, hearts, and brilliant minds to pour into sixteen twenty-somethings. And I am grateful for a program coordinator and leadership team that love us selflessly, motivating us to do the same for others. This year, as any other, will hold its share of challenges, but I am confident that there is no group of people I would rather choose to surround me than these this community.

Welcome Trinity Fellows Class of 2018

Welcome to the Class of 2018 Trinity Fellows! We hope this blog serves to update, encourage, and inspire you through our collective stories over the course of this year. We will rotate authors monthly as we seek to share core components of our Fellows experience.

For everyone who has entered into this year in support of the Fellows, we want to greet you with a heartfelt THANK YOU! Our Fellows class has been overwhelmed by the amount of support and encouragement we have received from the extensive Fellows community. It is so clear that we have been placed into a community and mission that will last far longer than these next 9 months.

In only a month of life in Charlottesville, so much has transpired. Relationships that didn’t exist in any capacity weeks ago have become the most important aspects of our daily lives. Many people familiar with the Fellows Program have thrown around the phrase “drinking through a fire hose” as a means to explain the outpouring of wisdom and new experiences that the program offers. The kindness and hospitality we have received these past four weeks is life giving.

We are expectant and hopeful of a beautiful, transformative year alongside each other as Fellows.

“Look among the nations and see, wonder and be amazed. For I am doing a work in your day that you would not believe if told.” Habakkuk 1:5

Four Years After

IMG_6042.JPG

By Kaitlyn Amos, Fellows Class of 2012

Some Trinity Fellows begin their year with an already substantial idea about who they are and where they are headed. The wild ride of this program simply secures their confidence, broadens their perspective, and launches them into a sector of the culture (and the Kingdom) they will help build. While I admired the beautiful insight some of my peers possessed, I wasn’t one of those Fellows. I walked out of our graduation banquet brimming with ideas coupled with a healthy dose of uncertainty—all under the framework of a grand narrative that (for the first time) actually felt grand enough to hold all my fragments together. I concluded Trinity Fellows with little direction and a lot of conviction to slow down, to prioritize a few Fellows-inspired disciplines, and to pay attention to my own story unfolding within this larger plot.

In May 2012, to the best of my ability, I started to do just that.

I committed to live intentionally with four other Fellows Program graduates. I started a new job, joined a prayer group, and immersed myself in a community of Latino kids who wanted to hang out as much as possible. I tended to that patch of life with all my might, while trying to remain alert to the Lord’s leading. It looked something like: one step forward, two steps, stop; ear to the ground, look around, evaluate my next move. While I haven’t covered a great distance at this pace, I have tried to thoroughly inhabit each space, giving myself back to the people and work given to me.

Surprisingly, this past year my little patchwork trail led to a more paved road. It’s a road down a newer career in healthcare that curiously gathers together so many of the gifts, wounds, and relationships I’ve tended to. (And this road actually has a map!)

Not surprisingly, the vocational framework established during my time as a Fellow provided me with the imagination to recognize this unlikely pavement as my own. Because of Fellows, and the days of rooting in that followed, I was prepared to take on this next venture when it emerged.

A few months ago, I handed over my job of four years to a younger Fellows Program graduate (whom I now consider a close friend). She had recently crossed the finish line of her high-paced year and was ripe for processing the transition. But I found it difficult to answer her questions about my experience adequately. I struggled to distinguish (much less articulate) what specific lessons from the Fellows Program I had carried into the real world.

The more I reflected, the more the patches of life-since-Fellows morphed together—blurring where one section ended and another began. Over the years that followed our program, I had hardly noticed how much our Fellows-taught theology and Fellows-embodied practices had transformed the way I understood the world. And now, looking back, it felt as though it had always been this way. When my childhood friend called to talk about her dad’s diagnosis, I didn’t pull up Bill Wilder’s PowerPoint illustration to explain away her fear. His teaching once interpreted this already-but-not-yet life we inhabit, and now it is the only context within which I can receive her pained words. It is the sole structure that enables me to hold both the suffering and the hope with her, believing that the story won’t end there.

When I choose to sit and read another Narnia book with Juana, I don’t rehearse my training as an Abundant Life Tutor before I open the cover. I do recall the freedom of giving my hours away, witnessing someone thrive in their own story, and mysteriously receiving more than I invested—now it is just what I want to include as essential in my weeks.

When my boss stayed for hours after I left Monroe Hall to edit and perfect a report for the tenth time, I didn’t need a National Fellows Conference to tell me he’s aspiring for excellence because he knows all his work matters to the King and His Kingdom. But at a conference someone did speak about all work being sacred, and now it is the standard by which I will always measure the worth of labor.

When the girls of our 411 Moseley Drive household invite another new peer to our Sunday night celebrations, I don’t quote John Cunningham’s lesson about perichoresis. But I hold onto that word in place of a language I once lacked. Now I can tell you that triune love expands and welcomes because that is who God is and we are becoming like Him, so hospitality is actually very holy work.

When Michael and Dottie Guthrie sat across from me and offered their home and endless support for yet another season of unknowns, I didn’t pull out Dennis Doran’s email about how your host family might one day become like your real family, although I did remember his words. I am able to accept their generosity after years of learning to trust its richness.

If I cry after a poignant conversation with Wade Bradshaw, I am no longer alarmed because I now believe I am only becoming more human.

When I meet with roommates for morning prayer, I’m not trying to check a box. I know I need to be in conversation with the Lord alongside other believers. And now I crave it.

When my small group represents different cultures and demographics, I don’t consciously think of how the Fellows’ Micah 6:8 Retreat might have birthed my desire to worship amidst a diverse body of believers. Now I am continually drawn to sisters and brothers who together portray the mosaic and textured glimpse of Christ’s Kingdom I’ve come to long for.

When I break bread with the Prums or the Stampers or the Coppocks or the Pickells or any of the countless families who graciously and repeatedly welcome me into their homes, I know Christ communes with us in our fellowship. And it is good.

The truths I learned my first year in Charlottesville have become so integrated into my current life, it feels difficult to distinguish what I once did not know. The experiences I had as a Fellow informed so much of the way I live and operate today, it feels difficult to separate how I approached life before.

Despite such coherence, I know that it has not always been this way. The Lord used the Fellows Program to help me initially recognize my belonging in a narrative that, in Wade’s words, “changes everything.”

It’s the narrative of Christ and His coming Kingdom; a story that did not seek to detach from what and whom I grew to love, but a story that instead became solidified by people and practices in the years since our graduation banquet.

The Fellows Program helped me more fully understand the life of Christ and, in doing so, gave me a truer knowing of myself, a bigger dream about where I’m headed, and a better attentiveness to both the loss and the abundance along the way. And Christ’s life is soaked in God’s faithfulness to us, to me. So when the Holy Spirit invites me to be faithful with what is right in front of me—paved road or winding trail—I am freed to do just that.

International interest in Fellows Programs: gathering in Monterrey, Mexico

By Kyle Spencer, Fellows Class of 2017

In a postmodern world that teaches millennials the ideology of individualism, the Fellows Initiative (TFI) was created to help recent college graduates pursue character, excellence, and leadership in every aspect of life, with their faith as the foundation, resulting in the embodiment of Christian virtues. This life system not only engages millennials in the Church, but transforms their theology in the workplace and community, which is why graduates of a Fellows program tend to be drawn to the biblical teaching that our work echoes in eternity. Thus, it is only divine intervention that 25+ Fellows Programs have been created across the United States since 2006, and the reason a TFI “Come and See” conference was held in Monterrey, Mexico.

Through a series of organic conversations, multiple mission agencies such as Mission to the World (MTW), South American Mission, Serge (formerly World Harvest Mission), and folks from the Redeemer City-to-City Church Planting Network (as started by Tim Keller) agreed to meet in Monterrey to better learn how they might globally partner to create Fellows Programs in their local church plants. It is important to note that it is somewhat rare for global mission agencies to fully collaborate due to certain theological and philosophical approaches to reaching the lost. The fact that these many global missions entities were coming together is a testament to TFI’s fruitfulness. There is also a strong desire to engage millennials both in the Church and in the city, and collaborating with TFI serves that common goal. Thus, these partnerships led a local pastor in Monterrey, Mexico, Andres Garza, along with Jud Lamos, a globalization specialist with MTW, to sponsor an event where local church leaders, business leaders, and mission agencies could come and learn about TFI. The goal of this gathering was twofold: to start a relational conversation on engaging millennials through the TFI model, and how the TFI model can be translated across different cultures.

“Rejoicing the City,” the title of this global gathering held in December 2016, was used to target a wide range of audiences: church leaders, business and civic leaders, global mission leaders. The first day was focused on creating a conversation with local church leaders; the second day focused on local business leaders (both Christian and non-Christian), and a third session focused on mission agencies. Although the conversation looked different within each discussion, one main question echoed in all three: How can a Fellows Program bring rejoicing and flourishing to a city? Jeremiah 29:7, the theme of the gathering, calls for Christians to “seek the welfare of the city.” And “when it goes well with the righteous, the city rejoices” according to Proverbs 11:10. The concept of a Fellows Program seeks to achieve these things in the context of its city: to form, strengthen, build, and create Creational and gospel-centered beauty in all different industries: arts, business, politics, etc. The result of each discussion led to a resounding praise, with leaders from each group wanting to create a Fellows Program within their city.

Although there are many questions left to address—such as specifics on how a local church in a global city can start a Fellows Program and how the TFI model can be tailored to fit the specific culture of the city—one thing is clear: God’s glorious plan for His church is alive, actively shaping the lives of millennials (and all people!) through the transformative power of the Gospel, seeking to renew all things in His creation. The fruits of the Fellows Initiative are just one small piece of that beautiful picture of God redeeming and restoring all things through Christ.

Snowed In, Fellows Style

Photographs by Brittany Fan

Photographs by Brittany Fan

When I am snowed in, I am in my happy place. Even as a twenty-something, my inner child emerges when a snow day is on the horizon. I love the sledding adventures, mugs of hot cocoa, and fuzzy socks that they entail. As soon as a flurry is forecast, I can be seen with my nose pressed flat against the window, eyes darting about in search of that first snowflake tumbling down from the skies above. I have also been known to rush off to raid the grocery store of the remaining pantry staples right before the storm hits. (The habits of a Carolina girl die hard).

My first Charlottesville snowstorm entailed purposely getting “snowed in” with the Fellows ladies. We went sledding, cooked comfort food, got ahead on some class readings—or at least some of us did!—trudged through 20+ inches of snow, and watched stereotypical “chick-flicks.” It was a sweet time of honoring the sacred rhythms of rest through caring for our minds, bodies, and souls, and enjoying the winter wonderland. We laughed, loved, prayed, and played. We found ourselves captivated by our snowy surroundings, and felt blessed that God was present and providing for our needs.

Though the weekend was filled with memorable moments, the long walk we took around the neighborhood one afternoon was particularly special. We must have been quite a scene ­parading through knee-deep snow in the streets in a single file line. I could see the sun setting slowly through the treetops as we walked the untouched street before us, chattering away about dinner plans, and reminiscing on the snow days of our childhood.

Photographs by Brittany Fan

Photographs by Brittany Fan

One simple comment from our conversation struck me with its profound truth: “Wow, look at that house—how the snow covers the roof like a blanket, how the color of the siding pops against the pure white, how the steady stream of smoke rises from the chimney and fills the air with its scent. Everything is so much more beautiful in the snow, you know?”

We all paused for a moment and gazed at the one-story ranch-style home. Though I had driven down this exact street—and past this exact house, even—countless times in recent months, I hadn’t ever paid attention to it. But this day, I was struck by its beauty.

A house that once looked plain—dull even—suddenly appeared lovely and vibrant, as if the snow highlighted its best features, added a certain sparkle to the landscape, and made the exterior shine as if it was brand new. In the stillness and the quiet of that snow-covered street, a group of girls beheld beauty of the most unexpected kind: the beauty of a normal world made extraordinary.

Photographs by Brittany Fan

Photographs by Brittany Fan

“Though your sins are like scarlet,” the prophet Isaiah wrote, “they shall be as white as snow.” It’s funny how something as ordinary as a house can bring this passage to mind—a passage about the promise of beauty arising from what is ragged, life springing forth from death, renewal changing what once seemed broken.

“Everything is so much more beautiful in the snow, you know?” My friend’s words ring true. The Lord establishes purity and goodness in all who lift up their hands and hearts to Him to receive his freely given grace. We have been covered by His pure love and have been made beautiful in His timing. And just like the snow-dusted house down the street, God is making all of creation new with His divine touch and the radiance of Christ. My hope is to never lose that snow day wonder. 

Photographs by Brittany Fan

Photographs by Brittany Fan


Taylor supplemented her academic life by conducting research on adult ADHD, serving at a local non-profit as a tutor for high-risk teens, and participating in a university-led service trip to an impoverished school in Nicaragua. These experiences strengthened her passion for providing support for youth struggling with mental health and behavioral problems. Her undergraduate studies focused on psychology and social work, and she hopes to attend graduate school to pursue a master’s in counseling psychology. 

Rhythms of Praise

unnamed (1).jpg

The Trinity Fellows Program is characterized by rhythm. From our Fellows schedule that repeats week after week, to the various forms of liturgy we engage with daily and weekly at Trinity, I’ve learned many of these rhythms by heart. The rhythm I’ve come to love the most is singing the doxology, a sweet and poignant four-line hymn that the Church has been singing for centuries. (You can listen to my favorite recorded version here). Its lyrics are simple and profound:

Praise God from whom all blessings flow
Praise Him, all creatures here below
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

It's traditionally sung a cappella—no instruments, just voices mingled together in magnificent harmony.

As Fellows, we often sing the doxology in the context of community. On Sunday mornings, we sing it with the rest of the Trinity congregation during church, hundreds of people of all backgrounds and ages and stories fulfilling the call for all God’s “creatures here below” to praise Him. And each Monday night, at the end of the Fellows’ weekly Roundtable dinner—our time of fellowship and processing—we gather in a circle, arms around one another, and sing the doxology in unison. Slowly but surely, the doxology is becoming the soundtrack to my year as a Fellow. Each time I sing that now-familiar first note, my heart feels like it’s at home.

This practice of singing the doxology has begun to shape me. It’s a song that has drawn me into worship and to the truth about who God is. Many times over the past four months, when I’ve felt worn out and at the end of my rope, I’ve sung the doxology over myself, knowing full well the way that these lyrics can nudge me out of despair and into trusting God. One Thursday afternoon, after watching a heart-wrenching film in class about AIDS that left me sobbing, I drove away from class drained and distraught. As I drove down the highway, I made myself breathe out one verse of the doxology at a time, my heart calming with each line. Praise Him, all creatures here below. Praise Him above, ye heavenly host. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. He’s worthy of praise, I’m reminded—even when the world seems overwhelming.

And some days this year, I’ve simply been exhausted. Some days, the to-do lists feel long, the scheduled activities get stacked, the margin that I long for seems nowhere to be found. When I’ve been weary and worn down, it’s been tempting to fall into bitterness and to complain, despite the fact that each aspect and activity of life as a Fellow is genuinely good. So in the car driving from tutoring to class, or from work to Roundtable, or even during the 30-second walk to my car through the church parking lot, I have sung the doxology, the first line teaching and re-teaching me the rhythm of gratitude. Praise God from whom all blessings flow. There’s so much to thank Him for, even on the hard days.

The doxology has also gently but firmly reminded me that every good and perfect gift comes from God above (James 1:17). In a year that has been abundantly wonderful, it has been tempting to merely enjoy the good parts of the Fellows program without turning in adoration and thanksgiving to God. The doxology has taught me the rhythm of looking out and then looking up, helping me to see the blessings that have flowed to me, and then turning my heart upward in light of them to God.

After a particularly sweet December night spent drinking hot chocolate by the fire with my beloved Fellow friends, I walked out to my car, and, awestruck by the starlit sky, instinctively began singing the doxology out loud. A few others heard me and joined in, our simple harmony echoing down the driveway. Praise God from whom all blessings flow. In that moment, the doxology’s lyrics reminded me that the gifts of community and natural beauty flow from the God who is somehow even more wonderful than those gifts. As Fr. Richard Rohr says, "Whatever good, true, or beautiful things we can say about humanity or creation we can say of God exponentially. God is the beauty of creation and humanity multiplied to the infinite power." His bright glory and goodness is reflected in the parts of this year I’ve treasured most.

Looking ahead to the remaining five months of the Trinity Fellows Program, I know that every Sunday morning, every Monday evening, and plenty of moments in between, I will be singing the doxology. The coming days and weeks will bring with them a multitude of challenges and joys, gifts and pain, but I hope that the doxology’s rhythm of praise and gratitude will define my Fellows year and the years to come.


2M0A4537.JPG

Nikki has a background in marketing and communications and is interested in the convergence of faith, media, and culture. She has held marketing internships at various local and international organizations, including a magazine publishing company in Charlottesville. Nikki also worked as a member of the team that helped with the recent launch of The Arbor, a Charlottesville based nonprofit organization that seeks the flourishing of survivors of human trafficking. During college, she was involved in leadership in Chi Alpha at UVA, and worked as a youth counselor at Yosemite Sierra Summer Camp in California. She is considering a career in communications.