One Sunday afternoon, the scholars disbanded from our monthly lunch and discussion at Pastor Don’s house. Zoë Juhlin was just as warm as the weather in her offer to drive me out to coffee. She squeezes personality out into a little bit of everything, I noticed. Not many people could pull off a short-sleeved denim jumpsuit, but she’d figured out how to style it with a navy lace shirt, brown boots and watch, and various adornments of gold jewelry. Between her dark and artfully curled hair to her sun-loved skin to her bright and perpetually delighted eyes, her initial presence was like a hug. Her car, nothing fancy and somehow perfect, was just as celebrated with ornaments of life.

      We were greeted at Mudhouse with soft lo-fi and the scent of a homecoming brewed from all the drinks’ auras mingling together and dancing across the dark hardwood floor. The cafe was filled with all sorts of things and people. There was an orange wall, a brown wall, a brick wall, a wall of plants, a wall of tea, and a wall barred by the ordering counter. We sat next to each other—not across—at a semi-full wooden table. Two drinks, two women, her floral phone and my tan one, and a keychain that clung onto Zoë’s wallet, keys, and probably even my own report card.

      The first few questions, the sort of really basic stuff any college student could answer in their sleep, were answered with her head leaning on her fist, waiting for the thrill of the conversation to lend itself into gestures. She was present, interested, and engaged. But, we both knew I wanted to know a little more than what year she is (a senior at MSU) and her major (Classical Vocal Performance). Zoë’s the sort of person that you instinctively know is going places. Dimly, I’m aware that we must be roughly the same age. Talking to her though, her love of the Lord melts into an aura of confidence and wisdom. She’s married to a man named Matthew, and they care for two cats. She crochets, likes podcasts, reads dystopian novels, and is finishing up her only year as a First & Calvary scholar. On the weekends, she’s been auditioning for graduate schools.

      I am overcome with wanting to know how a little girl can be molded into Zoë Juhlin.

      Zoë grew up surrounded by music and the arts. Her mother was a dancer; her grandfather was an artist; and her cousin was a singer and songwriter. Is it any wonder that something as small as watching a production of the Nutcracker—the play, not the musical, oddly enough—could whirl her away into her own life of artistry?

      In the same years that Zoë met and befriended her future husband, she was also building and refining her talents as a singer. Through musicals, she learned to combine this love with dance. An unfortunate injury to her foot, however, would cause her direction to pivot. Unable to complete the rigorous choreography of musicals, Zoë turned to opera. Opera is a celebration of the human voice. Plot, costume, acting—at all falls away into your peripheral once you watch a character open their mouths to sing. Quick riffs of high to low, of swiftly unknotted words, of lyrical expression dance into your ears like the scent of a blossom uplifted by the wind, cherished and carefully crafted.

      Currently, Zoë and Matthew are in The Little Prince, an opera based on a children’s classic put on by Ozark Lyric Opera. Unlike my initial thoughts, the couple doesn’t plan on staying in the same productions. Zoë responded, “Maybe not in the same shows, but in the same area, like the same cities. At least, for as long as we can. Because there will be a point where I’m in one place, and he’s in another, and we have to do the whole business’s craziness. But, hopefully, that’s not for a couple more years.” While it certainly isn’t ideal, it’s what they signed up for by choosing the performance industry. Still, I’m confident they can weather it. Zoë didn’t start at MSU, and there was a semester where they were long-distance before her move. She didn’t move back because of him, but his presence was certainly a perk.

      Now, “I’m doing choreography, dances for the kids’ musical for all of them [at First & Calvary], and then I’m helping Tyler pick our music for the, like, VBS camp for the summer,” while waiting for the contemporary service to re-launch. Zoë also has a senior recital coming up. Between shows, classes, auditions, marriage, and First & Calvary, I’m awed at Zoë’s ability to juggle and excel at life. Her story isn’t perfect by far, and life hasn’t always been easy, but she navigates challenges with the strength of God on her side. If you’re looking for support in your business, your seasons of growth, and—most of all—your creative side, we’d love to have you apply to our Scholar’s Program. We can’t wait to hear your story, so go ahead and click the link to apply: https://www.firstandcalvary.org/scholars-application 

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Written by Jocelyn Squires