I was listening to a Tim Keller sermon the other day while running on one of the exhilarating treadmill's of the Y; I happened to turn on my ipod and it was the first thing to come on the shuffle. It was the first of a series called "Living with the end in view." My cousin, Parker, has said this phrase to me over the past few years. Anytime I start to worry or become frustrated, he will tell me to stay strong and keep living with the end in view. I can remember some of the first few times he said it to me- I would just say "I know," when really I had no idea what he was talking about...and I may never fully understand the depth and freedom of those words, but I would like to think I'm becoming more aware of their meaning and what it looks like to actually live them out.
Throughout the sermon, Keller told a short story about a friend of his who was a missionary. He said the man was struggling with finding a sense of fulfillment as a missionary and began questioning why God had put him where he was. The friend wanted to know what God was expecting him to do next in order to feel as if he had answered his calling; he was living everyday waiting for God to remove his burdens. The friend goes on to explain how he was walking home one afternoon and he looked over and saw a butterfly struggling to get out of its cocoon. The man watched for a while before he couldn't take it anymore. He got out his pocket knife (I'd like to think it was a Swiss army knife), and he cut a tiny slit in the cocoon so as to free what he expected to be a full-grown butterfly. Unfortunately, as he watched the butterfly effortlessly make its way out of the cocoon, he realized it hadn't fully transformed- it was half butterfly, half caterpillar. He was heartbroken. He wanted to relieve the creature of its struggle, and because of this, it was then forced to live a life of constant struggle- the caterpillar would never become the butterfly it was meant to be. It would always be deformed.
This analogy, to me, was an eye opener I didn't want at the time. I often find, when I am going through a valley, that I want out of it as soon as possible. I want to hike out of it, no matter how slippery the sides are; No matter how steep and hard the fall would be. I want to drop everything I'm carrying, no matter how much I may need it once I get out, because it's too heavy to carry at the time. It becomes almost impossible, in those moments, to be swept away. To let go of that tiny, dried up branch and let this life carry me down stream. To fight my way out of the cocoon, because without the struggle I will walk through life aimlessly deformed.
All of this immediately makes me think of Psalm 23.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures: he leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul: he leads me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
I can remember memorizing this as a kid- and I can honestly say I had no idea how beautiful these words were at the time.
He is our shepherd. He leads us. He restores us. He is with us. He comforts us. He is our protector, provider, our Father and our redeemer. He is our everything.
This summer is going to be a major time of transition for me. I'll be leaving my job, leaving the country, starting grad school in the fall and I have no idea how any of this is going to look. One thing I am sure of, one thing I have confidence in, is going to Ukraine to see these amazing kids. We are flying to Ukraine on June 27. We will fly into Kiev and from there we will take a bus to Kharkov. I cannot wait to step off that hot, stinky bus after 9 (maybe 10) hours of driving and get to see all their faces. Our struggles may be different, our dreams and aspirations may be polar opposites, but for the time we're at camp, none of that matters.
The only thing that matters is them. These kids have so much to offer. So much joy, in spite of their abandonment. So much laughter, in spite of their pain. I know our Father longs to know them in the same way he longs to know us. I am beyond blessed to be a part of this trip, and even though life may be stressful at times, it doesn't matter...because we're not truly living unless we're living for Him. It's worth every struggle when we're living with the end in view.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
muddy feet
As a kid I can always remember my mom saying "only boring people get bored" and likewise my dad always had a saying, but it was the opposite (in a sense)..."time flies when you're havin' fun." I must have been having a lot of fun these past weeks because I hadn't realized how long it had been since my last entry. The truth is, though, these past few weeks have been extremely stressful, full of angst, and have involved very little thought outside of my own selfish well-being and desires of my own flesh. I fall back into the hum-drum way of living that our society so easily makes available before I even realize how thoughtless I am towards my friends and even my family.
I recently decided to apply to grad school for social work. Simultaneously, I applied for a teaching fellowship here in Nashville and had an interview a few weeks ago. Three days before that I took the GRE for grad school (which I had about 4 days to study for); While this was happening, I was preparing myself to tell the family I have been working for that I would be going back to school (or teaching) in the fall. I have been a nanny for two very sweet boys for roughly a year now; seeing as how I am the baby of my family, these two boys have become my little brothers. I love them. I start getting all teary-eyed and quiver-lipped at the thought of leaving them. However, I have prayed long and hard about this next year, and I truly believe God is setting a path for me; although it may be muddy and cobble-stoned right now, I know there will come a day when the soft green-grass cushions my feet below.
So, it was a Friday (about 3 weeks ago). I was to take the GRE the following Wednesday. I had to tell the family I nanny for (partially because a friend was covering for me and they needed to know, but also because this was all happening very fast and I had no idea how to bring it up). When they got home from work that evening, like word-vomit I just blurted it all out. I felt relieved after telling them. They have been so good to me, and they were so supportive when I told them. Phew (wipe the forehead). Now that was done and I had to prepare for the rest of the week. A few days later- GRE- BOOM. Done. A few days after that- fellowship interview- BOOM. Done. Gigantic sigh of relief..nap...gym. Now all I had to do was finish my grad school application and wait to hear about the fellowship interview. Piece of cake.
How exciting, right? Yeah. I was pumped (and at times I still am), until I suddenly realized...wait...what am I going to do if I don't get into grad school? (panic). And what happens if I don't get the teaching fellowship either? (more panic). Who am I to think I will get either thing? (crying...laughing...more crying...panic).
At the time this was happening, I was reading Frederick Buechner's "The Magnificent Defeat" (which I recommend to anybody); he wrote a chapter over the man whose son had an "impure spirit" and Jesus removed that spirit from him...the man goes on to say "“I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24). I had been writing (journaling) that morning and had actually written "Lord, forgive me my unbelief, my lack of faith..." and last night at our Bible study we were talking about our lack of faith, our lack of trust for a Father that wants nothing more than for us to seek Him and his will for our life. How can something so beautiful be so readily available? It's not some hidden treasure, it's right in front our faces. I try to complicate things, stress about things and figure out how I am going to fix them; ultimately, I have very little control over the things I cling to for dear life. What freedom is there in worrying about what will happen or won't happen? Surely, "in all things God works together with those who love him to bring about what is good" (Romans 8:28). God is on my side, our side. He is walking this rocky path with us, and when our feet get too sore to walk any further, he picks us up and carries us.
I have a tendency to try and avoid anxiety and stress. I think of ways to ignore it or look past it by setting goals or keeping myself busy; but last night at Bible study we were talking about how Jesus is in the pain with us. He is in our pain. He never leaves our side. I want so badly for it to be June. Not only will I skip all the stress and worry of grad school and the teaching fellowship, but I would leap over any other obstacles and emotions along the way and land in Ukraine with the orphans at summer camp. All the empty space and translucent time leading up to summer camp would be in the past; I am so looking forward to seeing the kids that I'm finding it difficult to live right now. Be here. Be fully present. Be in my pain and my anxiety. Embrace it, learn from it. Be able to see Jesus when I look in the mirror...not just myself. Because I'm not alone, we're not alone; and maybe that's part of my lack of faith, because if I fully trust and believe, then I acknowledge that I can't do it alone. And to be honest, I don't want to do it alone.
I think back to our group in the hotel in Ukraine. So close. So intimate. So frustrating. So vulnerable. Everything was out in the open. No secrets, no hidden emotions. People were tired and cranky, while others were slap-happy and full of excitement. But the most amazing thing of all is that we were all there for the same reason- to share the gospel of Christ- to show love to others. At times it can be difficult to live in such close quarters with very little space and alone time, but I know I miss that- I miss the fellowship and I miss that sense of family. I felt safe. I have to admit I have been searching for that kind of community since we got back, and I am only recently beginning to see that I have been surrounded by it, but my vision has been so skewed; I have been looking ahead, only glancing at my surroundings, not taking a second look. Not even taking a second glance in the mirror, because if I did, I would see that I'm not alone.
I know my Father has things planned for me over these next few months that I cannot even begin to imagine. I pray that I can take the time, now and then, to sit down. To be still. To wash my feet of all the mud. If only I could embrace where I am, who I am in Christ's eyes; open my heart to the journey ahead, and live out of hope instead of fear. Jeremiah 29:11 just came to mind: "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Who knows what I could miss out on by living for June...who knows what people or situations I could let pass in and out of my life without giving them a second glance. I know I will need to be reminded now and then, but June will be here before I know it...for now...it's Monday.
I recently decided to apply to grad school for social work. Simultaneously, I applied for a teaching fellowship here in Nashville and had an interview a few weeks ago. Three days before that I took the GRE for grad school (which I had about 4 days to study for); While this was happening, I was preparing myself to tell the family I have been working for that I would be going back to school (or teaching) in the fall. I have been a nanny for two very sweet boys for roughly a year now; seeing as how I am the baby of my family, these two boys have become my little brothers. I love them. I start getting all teary-eyed and quiver-lipped at the thought of leaving them. However, I have prayed long and hard about this next year, and I truly believe God is setting a path for me; although it may be muddy and cobble-stoned right now, I know there will come a day when the soft green-grass cushions my feet below.
So, it was a Friday (about 3 weeks ago). I was to take the GRE the following Wednesday. I had to tell the family I nanny for (partially because a friend was covering for me and they needed to know, but also because this was all happening very fast and I had no idea how to bring it up). When they got home from work that evening, like word-vomit I just blurted it all out. I felt relieved after telling them. They have been so good to me, and they were so supportive when I told them. Phew (wipe the forehead). Now that was done and I had to prepare for the rest of the week. A few days later- GRE- BOOM. Done. A few days after that- fellowship interview- BOOM. Done. Gigantic sigh of relief..nap...gym. Now all I had to do was finish my grad school application and wait to hear about the fellowship interview. Piece of cake.
How exciting, right? Yeah. I was pumped (and at times I still am), until I suddenly realized...wait...what am I going to do if I don't get into grad school? (panic). And what happens if I don't get the teaching fellowship either? (more panic). Who am I to think I will get either thing? (crying...laughing...more crying...panic).
At the time this was happening, I was reading Frederick Buechner's "The Magnificent Defeat" (which I recommend to anybody); he wrote a chapter over the man whose son had an "impure spirit" and Jesus removed that spirit from him...the man goes on to say "“I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24). I had been writing (journaling) that morning and had actually written "Lord, forgive me my unbelief, my lack of faith..." and last night at our Bible study we were talking about our lack of faith, our lack of trust for a Father that wants nothing more than for us to seek Him and his will for our life. How can something so beautiful be so readily available? It's not some hidden treasure, it's right in front our faces. I try to complicate things, stress about things and figure out how I am going to fix them; ultimately, I have very little control over the things I cling to for dear life. What freedom is there in worrying about what will happen or won't happen? Surely, "in all things God works together with those who love him to bring about what is good" (Romans 8:28). God is on my side, our side. He is walking this rocky path with us, and when our feet get too sore to walk any further, he picks us up and carries us.
I have a tendency to try and avoid anxiety and stress. I think of ways to ignore it or look past it by setting goals or keeping myself busy; but last night at Bible study we were talking about how Jesus is in the pain with us. He is in our pain. He never leaves our side. I want so badly for it to be June. Not only will I skip all the stress and worry of grad school and the teaching fellowship, but I would leap over any other obstacles and emotions along the way and land in Ukraine with the orphans at summer camp. All the empty space and translucent time leading up to summer camp would be in the past; I am so looking forward to seeing the kids that I'm finding it difficult to live right now. Be here. Be fully present. Be in my pain and my anxiety. Embrace it, learn from it. Be able to see Jesus when I look in the mirror...not just myself. Because I'm not alone, we're not alone; and maybe that's part of my lack of faith, because if I fully trust and believe, then I acknowledge that I can't do it alone. And to be honest, I don't want to do it alone.
I think back to our group in the hotel in Ukraine. So close. So intimate. So frustrating. So vulnerable. Everything was out in the open. No secrets, no hidden emotions. People were tired and cranky, while others were slap-happy and full of excitement. But the most amazing thing of all is that we were all there for the same reason- to share the gospel of Christ- to show love to others. At times it can be difficult to live in such close quarters with very little space and alone time, but I know I miss that- I miss the fellowship and I miss that sense of family. I felt safe. I have to admit I have been searching for that kind of community since we got back, and I am only recently beginning to see that I have been surrounded by it, but my vision has been so skewed; I have been looking ahead, only glancing at my surroundings, not taking a second look. Not even taking a second glance in the mirror, because if I did, I would see that I'm not alone.
I know my Father has things planned for me over these next few months that I cannot even begin to imagine. I pray that I can take the time, now and then, to sit down. To be still. To wash my feet of all the mud. If only I could embrace where I am, who I am in Christ's eyes; open my heart to the journey ahead, and live out of hope instead of fear. Jeremiah 29:11 just came to mind: "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Who knows what I could miss out on by living for June...who knows what people or situations I could let pass in and out of my life without giving them a second glance. I know I will need to be reminded now and then, but June will be here before I know it...for now...it's Monday.
Friday, January 28, 2011
...curveball
Where to begin...
The trip to Ukraine was absolutely amazing. Even looking back on it now, it brings a grin to my face. God was at work that week, through each and every person, and those are moments in life that are difficult to put into words (for me at least). We arrived in Kiev, took a van to a university where we stayed the night, and woke up the next day and drove to Kharkov (took about 9 hours). The drive went by surprisingly fast, but I give all the credit to the scenery; it was breathtaking, everything blanketed in snow. There was a peace about that kind of scene that I haven't witnessed much in life.
The first day (Wednesday) was so much fun. We went to an orphanage called Nova Vadalaga just a few minutes from our hotel. This is the orphanage where I got to meet Zhenya- a 12 year old boy I've been praying for through Midtown. I was THRILLED when I got to meet him (which probably freaked him out a little bit), but I couldn't hide how excited I was. At first he was a little stand-offish, but by the end of the day, we were best buds- it was amazing. There were so many kids there, and as beautiful as it was for us to be with them, it was so hard to leave. When we left the first night, dozens of the kids walked us out to the bus; it was dark by this time, and of course, our bus was stuck in the snow and ice. We had a translator yell to the boys that we needed their help and they were so excited- it was hilarious and truly amazing at the same time. They all got behind the bus, yelling and laughing, and were able to push the bus out of the snow...they chased the bus away as we drove down the icy road, blowing kisses and screaming things we didn't understand; everyone on the bus was laughing and waving, until we couldn't see or hear them anymore- a deafening silence came over the bus, all that could be heard was the occasional sniffle and a few laughs here and there. That was a painful silence, but it's good to be still like that now and then.
The next day we went Zeleny Gai, an orphanage about thirty minutes from our hotel. At this orphanage, some of the children have special needs (not all of them, though), which made this day a little different than the day before- no better or worse in my opinion- just completely different. The orphans needed more affection than anything, they weren't as worried about what games there were or what candy was being passed around- all they wanted was a simple touch of their hand or a pat on their back. It was a hard day, but I believe God is moving hearts there. He was moving souls that day, even if we couldn't see it right then.
On Friday we were able to return to Nova Vadalaga, which happened to be their Christmas day, which made the day even more special than when we had gone Wednesday. We were able to do more skits, watch a short Madagascar cartoon clip (dubbed in Ukraine, of course), spend more quality time with the kids, and most importantly we were able to sit them down and have some serious discussions with them. I was with a group of girls talking about abstinence, but there were other groups about what it means to love, garbage in and garbage out, and I think there was another one but I can't remember. At first we were skeptical, doubting the girls would participate in the discussion, but to our surprise we barely had to speak at all. No one had ever talked to them about sex before, and for the most part they were glad to talk with us about it- what a blessing that those girls trusted us like that. Truly God has a grip on their hearts, even if it's a tiny grip- and what a delight to get to see it first hand.
Since Friday was their Christmas, when we went to dinner after being at the orphanage all day, we were told some traditional singers wanted to come in and sing for us. I was completely unaware of this, but in Ukraine it is tradition for people to go caroling (in a sense), and dress up in throw-back Ukraine clothing (which is awesome). They go into restaurants and other businesses, not just homes, which I'm jealous of because I wish America still did that kind of thing, and they sing a few songs, maybe take some money, but it was so entertaining. I think we all enjoyed it. Well, we were just finishing dinner, I was sitting with a few girls from the trip, and we heard a knocking noise. There was a window directly behind our table, and when we heard the knock we knew it had to be some of the kids from the orphanage (Nova Vadalaga)- we were so giddy, you would have thought we were five again and it was our Christmas. We ran outside and sure enough there were about 15 kids from the orphanage. What a wonderful way to finish the day, even though it was just as sad to see them walk away for the second time that night. It's amazing how attached you can become to kids, and vice versa, in such a short amount of time. As hard as it was, though, it was worth every single tear. And more.
I could go on and on about the trip, telling each and every tiny detail, but I find I can't describe everything as well as I want to- partially because some of it I selfishly want to remain mine and partially because there are just certain things that are too sweet to put into words. All I know is I can't wait to go back. I hope I get to see the same kids again someday, but even if I don't, the amount of orphans over there is astounding, and their need for love and affection is even more appalling; I feel so blessed to have been a small part of this trip, and to be a part of their lives.
I was reading the Journals of Jim Elliot this morning and there's an entry where he explains how fulfilled he felt, and how he longed to be in Heaven with our Father. He explained how he wanted nothing more than to be with Jesus, and he had been given so many gifts (just to name a few: strength, patience, trust, and love) but this is what he had to say about life, upon his realization:
"Failure means nothing now, only that it taught me life. Success is meaningless, only that it gave me further experience for using the great gift of God- Life. And, Life, I love thee, not because thou art long, or because thou has done great things for me, but simply because I have thee from God. This writing is part of thee, and I am glad to write; not that there is any purpose in it for others- it is simply part of Life, and Life I have come to love."
I long to search my own heart and even more my own soul to love God in such a way. What an encouragement, to strive to love this broken world- not because it has anything to offer- but because from Whom it is being offered. When I look at it like that, my eyes start burning a little...and no, not because I need to blink-- for me, that's one of those "aha!" moments. Life is hard, people are mean (boy, are they ever mean), but that's not why we're here. I can only imagine getting to a place where I let go of my failures, my continual strive for success, and my desire to have things of this earth. I have been blessed by a Father who truly loves and adores me, and longs to share the joy of this earth with me- why would I deprive myself of that? It's a frustrating cycle, really.
I know this is long...but as I was writing the paragraph above it popped into my head (you can skip it, but it's basically the end so you might as well finish strong):
Psalm 139:
"O Lord, you have searched me and you know me.
You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.
You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.
Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord.
You hem me in- behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.
Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.
If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,"
even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!
Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand.
When I awake, I am still with you.
If only you would slay the wicked, O God! Away from me, you bloodthirsty men!
They speak of you with evil intent; your adversaries misuse your name.
Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord, and abhor those who rise up against you?
I have nothing but hatred for them; I count them as my enemies.
Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting."
I don't thank our Father in Heaven enough for scripture. What a blessing to have the word of our God at our hands anytime we need it...anytime...I definitely take that for granted. I'm finding out, uncomfortably fast, that I take a lot of things for granted. I recently had a bit of a curveball thrown my way, a curveball of life- if you will- and it hurt. Had it happened a few years ago I probably would have opened a bottle of vodka (or whatever I had available), and drank until I either got really mad or threw up (or both, just unsure of what sequence). Praise be to our Lord and Savior, because this time I dove as fast and as hard as I could into Him. I wanted to nestle into His love and security. I wanted to be alone with Him and pray.
One of my favorite Psalms (Psalm 18) says, "He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters...He rescued me because He delighted in me." I long for the orphans in Ukraine to realize that as much as we adore them, their Creator delights in them and loves them beyond compare. My prayer is that in some way or another, the orphans we met (and anyone really) could realize they're worth being rescued. He wants to rescue us, protect us, and love us in a way this world could never offer.
We may live in a beautifully broken world...but we weren't made for it.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
chasing shadows
I can't believe we leave tomorrow.
I also can't believe I haven't packed. Well, I can believe that...it probably wasn't the smartest move on my part, but not a lot I can do about it now.
A lot of things have been running through my mind the past week: What are the kids going to think of me? Are they going to like me? Will they open up to me? Am I going to get frostbite? Is the bus going to wreck in the snow? Are we going to get mugged? Is this nasty cough I have going to go away before we leave? What if I'm so sick when we're there that I can't even go see the kids? I can't forget this, I can't forget that....
You get it. It's a long list of thoughts and questions that I shouldn't really worry about.
I went running a few weeks ago. I remember it was one of those runs where you start out and you feel like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz. Your joints are frozen, you can't feel your jaw, but for some reason you keep running because you know eventually you will warm up. I was running, and I looked down and I saw my shadow. For some reason or another, I started laughing. I often find myself, in my everyday life, going from one thing to the next, always chasing after something or setting a goal; always wondering what I'm going to do next. Always chasing a shadow I will never be able to catch.
I think a part of me laughed because my shadow looked really goofy with my hat flailing about in the wind, but another part of me laughed because for a moment or two, I chased my shadow (I was bored, obviously). I felt like a 6 year old. And I loved every second of it.
Those moments are few and far between for me, but when they happen, I feel like I am really experiencing what it is to be a daughter. Not just a daughter to my dad, Randall- who is awesome, by the way. But a daughter to Christ. A daughter to my creator. In that moment I was chasing my shadow, I felt as if I was really living. As silly as that may sound. I was being me, playing with my life, this life, and allowing myself to feel the joy of being a daughter of a Creator that adores me every second of everyday.
Unfortunately, I rarely let myself enjoy life in the moment. One simple moment.
I always worry about this or that instead of living, just living.
My prayer for this next week, and I ask all of you who read this to pray for me as well, is that I can be in the moment with these kids and with the amazing group of people I'm going with. I don't want to be distracted by my sore throat and cough, I don't want to lose sight of the ultimate goal because I'm tired or I want to take a shower. I want to be present. I want to be fully there, because that's what makes life beautiful. I don't want to worry and go chasing after my own shadow, I want to rest with my shadow next to me, knowing Jesus is resting with me too.
We had a prayer meeting a few nights ago. This was a worry for a lot of people. We're going to be traveling for two days, only to be there for three and then turn around and travel two days home. We know it's going to be tiring, we know it's going to be cold, we know we're going to be run-down and cranky, but I pray and we all pray that God will give us strength and patience over the next week. Strength to see Him in everything we say and do, and patience with each other and ourselves, and an understanding of being fully present with ourselves and the orphans we will be with.
I am struggling with this post. I want to say a lot more, I want to go into more detail, but I don't want to get lost in the length of the post itself when I'm not even able to put into words what I'm wanting to say. It's a little frustrating, actually. All in all, we are going to need a lot of prayer. No matter how you pray for us, no matter what time of day or where you are, God will hear your prayer and likewise we will need it.
I will admit one thing that is frustrating is here I sit, writing about being present, when I can't even be present in my own writing. My mind is racing...I need to go to the gym, I need to go to the store and get this and that and don't forget this (write that down..where's my paper?). Talk about a basket case.
I just took a deep breath. A sigh, if you will. I feel surprisingly relaxed.
That was a good moment.
I'll end on that.
UKRAINE OR BUST
I also can't believe I haven't packed. Well, I can believe that...it probably wasn't the smartest move on my part, but not a lot I can do about it now.
A lot of things have been running through my mind the past week: What are the kids going to think of me? Are they going to like me? Will they open up to me? Am I going to get frostbite? Is the bus going to wreck in the snow? Are we going to get mugged? Is this nasty cough I have going to go away before we leave? What if I'm so sick when we're there that I can't even go see the kids? I can't forget this, I can't forget that....
You get it. It's a long list of thoughts and questions that I shouldn't really worry about.
I went running a few weeks ago. I remember it was one of those runs where you start out and you feel like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz. Your joints are frozen, you can't feel your jaw, but for some reason you keep running because you know eventually you will warm up. I was running, and I looked down and I saw my shadow. For some reason or another, I started laughing. I often find myself, in my everyday life, going from one thing to the next, always chasing after something or setting a goal; always wondering what I'm going to do next. Always chasing a shadow I will never be able to catch.
I think a part of me laughed because my shadow looked really goofy with my hat flailing about in the wind, but another part of me laughed because for a moment or two, I chased my shadow (I was bored, obviously). I felt like a 6 year old. And I loved every second of it.
Those moments are few and far between for me, but when they happen, I feel like I am really experiencing what it is to be a daughter. Not just a daughter to my dad, Randall- who is awesome, by the way. But a daughter to Christ. A daughter to my creator. In that moment I was chasing my shadow, I felt as if I was really living. As silly as that may sound. I was being me, playing with my life, this life, and allowing myself to feel the joy of being a daughter of a Creator that adores me every second of everyday.
Unfortunately, I rarely let myself enjoy life in the moment. One simple moment.
I always worry about this or that instead of living, just living.
My prayer for this next week, and I ask all of you who read this to pray for me as well, is that I can be in the moment with these kids and with the amazing group of people I'm going with. I don't want to be distracted by my sore throat and cough, I don't want to lose sight of the ultimate goal because I'm tired or I want to take a shower. I want to be present. I want to be fully there, because that's what makes life beautiful. I don't want to worry and go chasing after my own shadow, I want to rest with my shadow next to me, knowing Jesus is resting with me too.
We had a prayer meeting a few nights ago. This was a worry for a lot of people. We're going to be traveling for two days, only to be there for three and then turn around and travel two days home. We know it's going to be tiring, we know it's going to be cold, we know we're going to be run-down and cranky, but I pray and we all pray that God will give us strength and patience over the next week. Strength to see Him in everything we say and do, and patience with each other and ourselves, and an understanding of being fully present with ourselves and the orphans we will be with.
I am struggling with this post. I want to say a lot more, I want to go into more detail, but I don't want to get lost in the length of the post itself when I'm not even able to put into words what I'm wanting to say. It's a little frustrating, actually. All in all, we are going to need a lot of prayer. No matter how you pray for us, no matter what time of day or where you are, God will hear your prayer and likewise we will need it.
I will admit one thing that is frustrating is here I sit, writing about being present, when I can't even be present in my own writing. My mind is racing...I need to go to the gym, I need to go to the store and get this and that and don't forget this (write that down..where's my paper?). Talk about a basket case.
I just took a deep breath. A sigh, if you will. I feel surprisingly relaxed.
That was a good moment.
I'll end on that.
UKRAINE OR BUST
Friday, November 26, 2010
sticks and stones
I've recently decided to write about the past few years of my life, which have also been some of the more painful years of my life. There are certain things I've only shared with a handful of people, but I think it will be good to get it all out and hopefully see some beauty from the mess that is this life. It's funny how things can happen to you, or somebody can say something to you, and the pain it causes can shut you down- emotionally, physically, you name it.
I'll cut to the chase, I had been in a relationship for a while- not the best of relationships, but a relationship nevertheless. We had talked about spending our lives together, traveling, being adventurous and experiencing things- we had it all planned out, and it looked pretty good from where we were sitting. I left that summer for an internship, and when I returned, well...needless to say, none of that ever happened (thank goodness).
I returned from interning over the summer, we had been spending a lot of time together and things were good. We went to lunch one afternoon and suddenly things were off, I could just tell. There should be more to it, but there's not- trust me, I asked. He called me after work that day and never, in all my life, has anybody been so cruel. I remember one of the first things he said, "you disgust me...you're fat and ugly and stupid." I was in shock. You know that feeling you get in your stomach, maybe when you're riding a roller coaster, and your stomach seems to come all the way up to your throat? Imagine that, but worse.
You think I would have hung up, but I sat there and took it. And to my surprise, it got worse. Of course there were many more comments about how fat and gross he thought I was, but I think the more hurtful things were "I don't want to settle, and I'm settling for you" or "when I look at you it makes me sick." By far, the most hurtful was, "I'm falling more and more out of love with you every single day." By no means do I still care about this person, nor would I ever want to be with them again, but whoever said "sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me"...boy, were they off.
He knew my insecurities, my soft spots, my weaknesses- and he attacked them without mercy.
This may sound cheesy and cliche, but that, to me, is exactly what Satan does. He knows our insecurities, our weaknesses, and he attacks them at all angles.
So what was I to do? My life, as I knew it, had just blown up in my face.
Within a few hours I had spoken to my cousin, Parker, who was able to calm me down, and in the midst of all the chaos, convince me to move to Nashville (there was a little more to it than that, but you get the gist). Within a few days I had found a roommate on craigslist, packed up my car, said good bye to my friends and family, and was heading to the good ol' south.
I remember when I got here. I was exhausted. My cousins, Parker and Sage and their dad (Uncle Jon) were here to greet me.
I was surrounded by strangers, in a strange place, with no real direction. I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. I put on a happy face, and in the meantime I got to meet some wonderful people. However, a lot of these people didn't really get to meet me. Don't get me wrong, I've made some amazing memories over the past year, but I am also realizing how closed off I have been; how, most of the time, I have been overwhelmed with fear and so I shut people out.
I allowed fear to consume me, and I didn't know how to make it stop. The fear of getting close to people, of people knowing how broken I was; I feared genuinely caring for people and loving them with all my heart because I had convinced myself I could never be good enough. The last person I had let into my little world took all of my affections, all of my laughter, and couldn't tell me enough how worthless it all was. And I believed him. I had lost trust in myself and in others, but I've realized that pain is not something to be ashamed of, it should be embraced and handed over to Christ our Savior, for He alone can heal us. Nothing else can.
I have been in self- defense mode, but I'm slowly beginning to realize that I don't need to protect myself. I can't, nor do I want to, because I alone will fail every time.
I'm relearning what it is to love people, to love myself, and to grasp God's love for me. I'm deconstructing myself, all that I've known of life, and trying to see things in others that I missed before, or see things in myself; more importantly, I'm trying to see what others see in me and especially how God sees me…The way I’m meant to be a reflection of his love and grace.
I started a book today: "Through Gates of Splendor" - Elisabeth Elliot.
I can't put it down.
I also can't stop writing down every other sentence.
It's beautiful, in so many ways.
The book is about Jim Elliot (Elisabeth's husband) who goes on a mission trip to Ecuador with his friend, Pete. The ending, from my understanding, is not a pretty one, but the story they left behind, their story- it's amazing and so beautiful. There's one part, where Pete was writing to a friend (just before leaving for Ecuador) and he says:
"Remember the last few verses of 1 Corinthians 3: 'For all things are yours...and ye are Christ's; and Christ is God's." Throughout all our personality we are God's, and since God has made our whole selves, there is a great joy in realizing who is our Creator. This realization is to permeate every area and level of life. In appreciation of beauty, mountains, music, poetry, knowledge, people, science- even in the tang of an apple- God is there, to reflect the joy of His presence in the believer who will realize God's purposes in all things."
I don't think I'll ever be able to understand the mystery of God. I know I won't, but that's part of what makes His love for me so majestic. This never-ending, ever encompassing love for me- this love that nothing on this earth can compare to; that's the kind of love my Creator has for me. How lucky am I.
I only pray that I can reflect a tiny ray of this love to others. I know I fail at this- too often, I do- but with every time I slip up or fall short, somehow God reveals to me his presence in that situation. He is always fully here. In all things.
I know, over the past year, I've had days when I just wanted to be held (correct me if I'm wrong, but I think a lot of people have these days); days when I didn't want to say anything, I just wanted somebody to hold me and tell me everything would be okay. Anytime I get that feeling, I just close my eyes. I often have to remind myself that I am not alone. My Savior is with me. Everywhere I go. Every breath I take and every crooked step I make through the day- He is with me. How much He must love and adore me to be so patient with me.
This past year (plus some) has been a whirlwind. I have experienced moments of joy and moments of darkness. I have gone from feeling worthless, feeling as if I had nothing to offer anybody, to having a flicker of hope, a tiny speck of confidence in who I am and the woman of God I long to become.
As small of a realization that this may be, over the past few days, I've realized that while I am in Ukraine, I want nothing more than to show these kids love. Whether that means talking to them, or playing silly games with them, trying to speak Russian, or just listening to them- I don't care what it takes. I want to know their stories. No matter how dark their stories might be, beauty can still come from them- it is still in them, because we are Christ's, and Christ is God's...and God is in everything. We are not alone. Ever.
I couldn't say it better myself, so I'll just quote Jim Elliot:
"Because He hath said, 'I will never leave thee nor forsake thee,'
I may boldly say, 'I will not fear...'"
I'll cut to the chase, I had been in a relationship for a while- not the best of relationships, but a relationship nevertheless. We had talked about spending our lives together, traveling, being adventurous and experiencing things- we had it all planned out, and it looked pretty good from where we were sitting. I left that summer for an internship, and when I returned, well...needless to say, none of that ever happened (thank goodness).
I returned from interning over the summer, we had been spending a lot of time together and things were good. We went to lunch one afternoon and suddenly things were off, I could just tell. There should be more to it, but there's not- trust me, I asked. He called me after work that day and never, in all my life, has anybody been so cruel. I remember one of the first things he said, "you disgust me...you're fat and ugly and stupid." I was in shock. You know that feeling you get in your stomach, maybe when you're riding a roller coaster, and your stomach seems to come all the way up to your throat? Imagine that, but worse.
You think I would have hung up, but I sat there and took it. And to my surprise, it got worse. Of course there were many more comments about how fat and gross he thought I was, but I think the more hurtful things were "I don't want to settle, and I'm settling for you" or "when I look at you it makes me sick." By far, the most hurtful was, "I'm falling more and more out of love with you every single day." By no means do I still care about this person, nor would I ever want to be with them again, but whoever said "sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me"...boy, were they off.
He knew my insecurities, my soft spots, my weaknesses- and he attacked them without mercy.
This may sound cheesy and cliche, but that, to me, is exactly what Satan does. He knows our insecurities, our weaknesses, and he attacks them at all angles.
So what was I to do? My life, as I knew it, had just blown up in my face.
Within a few hours I had spoken to my cousin, Parker, who was able to calm me down, and in the midst of all the chaos, convince me to move to Nashville (there was a little more to it than that, but you get the gist). Within a few days I had found a roommate on craigslist, packed up my car, said good bye to my friends and family, and was heading to the good ol' south.
I remember when I got here. I was exhausted. My cousins, Parker and Sage and their dad (Uncle Jon) were here to greet me.
I was surrounded by strangers, in a strange place, with no real direction. I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. I put on a happy face, and in the meantime I got to meet some wonderful people. However, a lot of these people didn't really get to meet me. Don't get me wrong, I've made some amazing memories over the past year, but I am also realizing how closed off I have been; how, most of the time, I have been overwhelmed with fear and so I shut people out.
I allowed fear to consume me, and I didn't know how to make it stop. The fear of getting close to people, of people knowing how broken I was; I feared genuinely caring for people and loving them with all my heart because I had convinced myself I could never be good enough. The last person I had let into my little world took all of my affections, all of my laughter, and couldn't tell me enough how worthless it all was. And I believed him. I had lost trust in myself and in others, but I've realized that pain is not something to be ashamed of, it should be embraced and handed over to Christ our Savior, for He alone can heal us. Nothing else can.
I have been in self- defense mode, but I'm slowly beginning to realize that I don't need to protect myself. I can't, nor do I want to, because I alone will fail every time.
I'm relearning what it is to love people, to love myself, and to grasp God's love for me. I'm deconstructing myself, all that I've known of life, and trying to see things in others that I missed before, or see things in myself; more importantly, I'm trying to see what others see in me and especially how God sees me…The way I’m meant to be a reflection of his love and grace.
I started a book today: "Through Gates of Splendor" - Elisabeth Elliot.
I can't put it down.
I also can't stop writing down every other sentence.
It's beautiful, in so many ways.
The book is about Jim Elliot (Elisabeth's husband) who goes on a mission trip to Ecuador with his friend, Pete. The ending, from my understanding, is not a pretty one, but the story they left behind, their story- it's amazing and so beautiful. There's one part, where Pete was writing to a friend (just before leaving for Ecuador) and he says:
"Remember the last few verses of 1 Corinthians 3: 'For all things are yours...and ye are Christ's; and Christ is God's." Throughout all our personality we are God's, and since God has made our whole selves, there is a great joy in realizing who is our Creator. This realization is to permeate every area and level of life. In appreciation of beauty, mountains, music, poetry, knowledge, people, science- even in the tang of an apple- God is there, to reflect the joy of His presence in the believer who will realize God's purposes in all things."
God is in everything, and it’s easy for me to get lost in myself. I can rest knowing God is with me, through every moment. He is in all things.
Psalm 4:7
You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and new wine abound. I will both lie down and sleep in peace, for You alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety.
I don't think I'll ever be able to understand the mystery of God. I know I won't, but that's part of what makes His love for me so majestic. This never-ending, ever encompassing love for me- this love that nothing on this earth can compare to; that's the kind of love my Creator has for me. How lucky am I.
I only pray that I can reflect a tiny ray of this love to others. I know I fail at this- too often, I do- but with every time I slip up or fall short, somehow God reveals to me his presence in that situation. He is always fully here. In all things.
I know, over the past year, I've had days when I just wanted to be held (correct me if I'm wrong, but I think a lot of people have these days); days when I didn't want to say anything, I just wanted somebody to hold me and tell me everything would be okay. Anytime I get that feeling, I just close my eyes. I often have to remind myself that I am not alone. My Savior is with me. Everywhere I go. Every breath I take and every crooked step I make through the day- He is with me. How much He must love and adore me to be so patient with me.
This past year (plus some) has been a whirlwind. I have experienced moments of joy and moments of darkness. I have gone from feeling worthless, feeling as if I had nothing to offer anybody, to having a flicker of hope, a tiny speck of confidence in who I am and the woman of God I long to become.
As small of a realization that this may be, over the past few days, I've realized that while I am in Ukraine, I want nothing more than to show these kids love. Whether that means talking to them, or playing silly games with them, trying to speak Russian, or just listening to them- I don't care what it takes. I want to know their stories. No matter how dark their stories might be, beauty can still come from them- it is still in them, because we are Christ's, and Christ is God's...and God is in everything. We are not alone. Ever.
I couldn't say it better myself, so I'll just quote Jim Elliot:
"Because He hath said, 'I will never leave thee nor forsake thee,'
I may boldly say, 'I will not fear...'"
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
return of the jedi
I guess it would be a good idea to give a little background on this mission trip, and perhaps the story of how I got involved. A few Sundays ago, I believe it would have been November 7, I was warm and cozy in my bed. We don't have heat upstairs in our house, so the wood floors can be rather icy and the rooms a bit chilly sometimes; anyway, I did not want to venture from my covers- not for food, coffee, or church- I wanted to lay under those warm covers until my little heart decided it wanted to get up. I'm usually awake around 7, and by this time it was around 9:45; My roommate, Liz came in and asked me if I was okay, and I just remember groaning and not budging from my bed. The truth is, I was fine. I was just being lazy.
I ended up going to church, only because I decided I was going to wear my new favorite Star Wars shirt. The sermon was different that day. So different, in fact, that I laughed to myself at how funny God can be sometimes...so, so funny. The service consisted of 3 things: a conversation, a very short lesson, and the remaining half hour was spent on the Lord's supper. The conversation was between Randy, our pastor, and Russell, the man in charge of the Ukraine mission trip. They basically sat in front of the church and discussed the success of previous missions and the hope for the missions to come. I immediately knew I wanted to be a part of it.
I was sitting on the back row, and on the wall to the left there were pictures of orphans from Ukraine. I'm not sure exactly how many pictures there were, but it was enough to make your heart drop. Russell and Randy had been discussing their latest idea- a prayer group for the orphans. The idea was that members of the church would go and pick a child's picture, and that would be the child (or children) that the member would pray for. On the back of the card was the child's name. I went over, slowly examined the different faces of each child, and there he was. This dark-haired, shy looking boy, awkwardly leaning against the edge of a deck; you could tell the sun was shining in his eyes, because one eye was squinted more than the other. His head slightly leaning to the right; His face was gentle, calm, and innocent. His name is Zhenya. He is the boy I am praying for. I will get to meet him at the first orphanage we visit in Ukraine.
I teared up just now.
It takes my breath away each time I think of the majestic way life ebbs and flows, and how we think things are just happening, just taking place, when all the while God is with us at all times. He is watching our stories unfold, delighting in things with us, crying with us, laughing with us...it's hard for me to wrap my head around it, but that's the beauty of it. I can't understand it, I can only pray I don't let moments pass me by and miss the simple touches, the slightest spark, that my Lord and Savior is right beside me. Nothing is coincidence.
Having said all that, we will be going to Kharkov, Ukraine on January 1, 2011 and returning January 9, 2011. I am not very good at geography, but luckily we have maps- apparently Kharkov is in the eastern part of the country, close to the Russian border. We will be visiting during the children's Christmas holiday; from my understanding, this is a very lonely time for them. We won't be alone in our mission, Radooga, a Ukrainian organization will be there as well. Radooga has been working at government-run camps for orphans over the past few years; Midtown (my church) has been sending teams since 2009. Missions Development International (MDI) is an American organization that has teamed with Radooga for several years. MDI will be handling the American side of the trip (training, airfare, insurance, etc). Each group involved is playing an important role, and I'm excited to see it all come together.
I just recently added a "donate" link. Part of the mission is that we need to raise $2,400. I am a little behind because I just hopped on board. I know $1,300 will be given to help the orphans, the rest is set aside to help with our traveling expenses, and any left over money will be given to the cause as well. I'm not very good at asking people for money. It's awkward. I feel compelled to write over and over again how much this trip means to me, but the truth is, when I really start thinking about it- I'm left speechless. There are no words to express certain feelings. Maybe that's when you know what true, pure feelings are like- beyond anything this world could ever describe. I long to meet these children, to laugh and cry with them, and if anyone wants to be a part of that and help me get there...well, I'd hug you if I could.
I was sitting on the back row, and on the wall to the left there were pictures of orphans from Ukraine. I'm not sure exactly how many pictures there were, but it was enough to make your heart drop. Russell and Randy had been discussing their latest idea- a prayer group for the orphans. The idea was that members of the church would go and pick a child's picture, and that would be the child (or children) that the member would pray for. On the back of the card was the child's name. I went over, slowly examined the different faces of each child, and there he was. This dark-haired, shy looking boy, awkwardly leaning against the edge of a deck; you could tell the sun was shining in his eyes, because one eye was squinted more than the other. His head slightly leaning to the right; His face was gentle, calm, and innocent. His name is Zhenya. He is the boy I am praying for. I will get to meet him at the first orphanage we visit in Ukraine.
I teared up just now.
It takes my breath away each time I think of the majestic way life ebbs and flows, and how we think things are just happening, just taking place, when all the while God is with us at all times. He is watching our stories unfold, delighting in things with us, crying with us, laughing with us...it's hard for me to wrap my head around it, but that's the beauty of it. I can't understand it, I can only pray I don't let moments pass me by and miss the simple touches, the slightest spark, that my Lord and Savior is right beside me. Nothing is coincidence.
Having said all that, we will be going to Kharkov, Ukraine on January 1, 2011 and returning January 9, 2011. I am not very good at geography, but luckily we have maps- apparently Kharkov is in the eastern part of the country, close to the Russian border. We will be visiting during the children's Christmas holiday; from my understanding, this is a very lonely time for them. We won't be alone in our mission, Radooga, a Ukrainian organization will be there as well. Radooga has been working at government-run camps for orphans over the past few years; Midtown (my church) has been sending teams since 2009. Missions Development International (MDI) is an American organization that has teamed with Radooga for several years. MDI will be handling the American side of the trip (training, airfare, insurance, etc). Each group involved is playing an important role, and I'm excited to see it all come together.
I just recently added a "donate" link. Part of the mission is that we need to raise $2,400. I am a little behind because I just hopped on board. I know $1,300 will be given to help the orphans, the rest is set aside to help with our traveling expenses, and any left over money will be given to the cause as well. I'm not very good at asking people for money. It's awkward. I feel compelled to write over and over again how much this trip means to me, but the truth is, when I really start thinking about it- I'm left speechless. There are no words to express certain feelings. Maybe that's when you know what true, pure feelings are like- beyond anything this world could ever describe. I long to meet these children, to laugh and cry with them, and if anyone wants to be a part of that and help me get there...well, I'd hug you if I could.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
rainy daze
Go ahead and laugh at the title of this blog. Why? Because I am. However, there is an explanation: it's raining and I honestly don't know how to start this thing- therefore, my mind is dazed and confused. I have a million things I want to say, and no idea how to start. I'll have to admit this whole blogging thing is a little weird to me. Here I sit, typing my thoughts away, for people to read...or not read, when all the while I can't even use enough words to express how passionate I am behind the entire reason for this blog. The point of this blog is for me to verbalize my desire to go to Ukraine and spend a few days with kids in three different orphanages. The truth is, though, I cannot put into words how much this means to me.
For over a year now it's been on my heart to go and be with orphans. I have never had something constantly on my heart like this; not a day goes by that it doesn't cross my mind. Why orphans? I have no idea. I cannot begin to imagine their pain, their overwhelming feeling of abandonment, or their desire to feel loved and wanted. However, pain is universal- in some way, shape or form- we have all experienced pain, abandonment, and have felt unloved or worthless at some point.
I went through some rough years. I turned away from God. I had been hurt and I needed to blame somebody, something- so I blamed God. At that time, it was the easiest thing to do. Only now do I see it was the worst thing to do as well. The darkness and evil that can take over ones life is honestly the scariest thing I can imagine; that emptiness and feeling of abandonment only raises doubts and anger towards the betrayal that can harden hearts to stone and blanket darkness over any joy and love that may dwell deep within us all.
I finally hit rock bottom. I won't go into detail, but I will say it changed my life. Shortly after, I went on a mission trip with my cousin, Parker and my Uncle Jon (thank you both). It was the start of a new season for me. Returning from that trip, I felt a tiny speck of joy. A joy I had not felt in so long. A joy I did not think I deserved. One of the hardest and most humbling realizations for me was when I realized God had not abandoned me. I had run from my Father, but all the while he was just waiting for me- so patiently waiting for me to stop and be still. Since then I have run towards God as fast as I can. I know I've stumbled, I know I've slipped up- but He's been beside me the whole time, dusting off my shoes each time I fall.
I have no idea what this mission trip looks like. I have no idea what I will learn from the kids or what they will learn from me; my only hope is that I can show them the tender love and genuine compassion that my Lord and Savior has shown me. I am only beginning to understand what it means to have a relationship with God, my creator. He created me, just the way I am, and he so longs to love me and share the joy and peace of this world with me, if I will only let him. My hope is that I can reflect God's love to these kids, and somehow soften their hearts and allow joy to blanket their spirits in spite of everything they have lived through. They are our Lord and Savior's children- adored beyond our wildest imaginations. This, to me, is everlasting love.
I have fallen in love with my Creator, my Father, my Savior.
I hope the orphans can get a glimpse of that love, and realize they too are loved and adored by Jesus Christ himself.
After all, the greatest gift is to love and be loved in return.
For over a year now it's been on my heart to go and be with orphans. I have never had something constantly on my heart like this; not a day goes by that it doesn't cross my mind. Why orphans? I have no idea. I cannot begin to imagine their pain, their overwhelming feeling of abandonment, or their desire to feel loved and wanted. However, pain is universal- in some way, shape or form- we have all experienced pain, abandonment, and have felt unloved or worthless at some point.
I went through some rough years. I turned away from God. I had been hurt and I needed to blame somebody, something- so I blamed God. At that time, it was the easiest thing to do. Only now do I see it was the worst thing to do as well. The darkness and evil that can take over ones life is honestly the scariest thing I can imagine; that emptiness and feeling of abandonment only raises doubts and anger towards the betrayal that can harden hearts to stone and blanket darkness over any joy and love that may dwell deep within us all.
I finally hit rock bottom. I won't go into detail, but I will say it changed my life. Shortly after, I went on a mission trip with my cousin, Parker and my Uncle Jon (thank you both). It was the start of a new season for me. Returning from that trip, I felt a tiny speck of joy. A joy I had not felt in so long. A joy I did not think I deserved. One of the hardest and most humbling realizations for me was when I realized God had not abandoned me. I had run from my Father, but all the while he was just waiting for me- so patiently waiting for me to stop and be still. Since then I have run towards God as fast as I can. I know I've stumbled, I know I've slipped up- but He's been beside me the whole time, dusting off my shoes each time I fall.
I have no idea what this mission trip looks like. I have no idea what I will learn from the kids or what they will learn from me; my only hope is that I can show them the tender love and genuine compassion that my Lord and Savior has shown me. I am only beginning to understand what it means to have a relationship with God, my creator. He created me, just the way I am, and he so longs to love me and share the joy and peace of this world with me, if I will only let him. My hope is that I can reflect God's love to these kids, and somehow soften their hearts and allow joy to blanket their spirits in spite of everything they have lived through. They are our Lord and Savior's children- adored beyond our wildest imaginations. This, to me, is everlasting love.
I have fallen in love with my Creator, my Father, my Savior.
I hope the orphans can get a glimpse of that love, and realize they too are loved and adored by Jesus Christ himself.
After all, the greatest gift is to love and be loved in return.
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