Plans, Brokenness, and the One Who Makes it Okay.

I'm really good at making my own plans, praying to my will, and making the square peg fit in the round hole. I like people to think I've got my life all together, that I have no weaknesses, that I can handle anything anyone throws at me, but I have to tell you, it's not true. In my years of being a minister's kid and growing up in the Christian circle, I got really good at putting a smile on my face, holding my head up high, and acting like everything was okay.  Though I was never told by anyone that this was expected, I just knew, that's what I was supposed to do. As I grew older and matured in my relationship with Christ, I realized that all of this smiling and being happy stuff wasn't all it was cracked up to be.  I got tired of putting on a pretty face to go to church and saying "I'm great, and how are you?" To everyone who asked how things were going in my life. I got tired of making the square peg fit in the round hole, because frankly, our church (the body of Christ) is full of broken and hurting people. Me included.

So here I am, owning the fact that in the last months, I have been struggling to hold myself together. Please, don't get me wrong, there is no doubt in my mind that Guatemala is exactly where I need to be. There isn't even an inkling of a thought about returning to the States any time soon. Just because things are hard, doesn't mean I'm quitting. In fact, in my life, when things are hard is when I fight all the harder. Which is why I want to be honest, and maybe set the precedent to show that even when God is using you, even when He is working in your life, you can still be broken and feel like a disaster. You can stand in God's presence broken, and he will hold you, and kiss your wounds like any loving father would. God never asked us to be perfect. He never asked us to put on a pretty face and make things look good, but He did tell us to rejoice, and let Him change our hearts.

 "... rejoice in sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance,⁴ and endurance, character, and character, hope. ⁵ And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us."

At the end of the day, I would rather be suffering, and growing than be happy and stagnant. The Lord is using me, he is using my struggles, my defeats, my weaknesses to bring me ever closer to Him. Isn't that incredible? That something that can feel so ugly, can be made into something so beautiful.

So here's where I tell you just what's been going on. Lord know's I'm not the most patient of people, but He also knows that I am one of the most stubborn people there is, and when I want something, I will fight until I get it or He straight up slaps me upside the head and says no. Recently, I've been fighting and fighting and fighting with the Lord, and praying and praying for something to happen. I have been praying for my desires to be fulfilled, but through it, God has continued to whisper in my defiant ears, "Wait. You'll see." Waiting, slowing down, and taking time, are not my strong suits. So, in order to teach me, God has forced me to practice.

Last night, my car quit working at what I imagined was the worst time possible. I was in Antigua (20 minutes from home) talking with a friend. It was getting late, so I was about to head home from a long and stressful day, feeling more distraught and alone than before, when mid peal out from my parking spot, my car suddenly stopped working. My mind immediately rushed to the million-and-three things I had on my to-do list for the next day. My boss is returning home, and I had a list a mile long of things I needed/wanted to do to prepare. And in my rush of anger, frustration, bitter hilarity, and everything else that hits you in the face when things don't go your way, I started laughing. I quickly thought to myself, "What in the world, God, this isn't what I need, I need to go home!". Instead, I stayed the night with friends. The next morning, they called up some friends and helped me find a mechanic, they then waited for the mechanic with me, carefully observed everything the mechanic was doing, called another more specialized mechanic, and smiled at me in the process. I arrived home 16 hours after I had planned. I had wanted to get a jump start on the day, alarm set for 6:30 am, but instead, I let my friends help me, admitted that I had no clue how to do any of the things I needed to do in that moment, and sat against a wall while a guy took my car apart in the middle of the street and the day passed without completing a single thing from my list. You know what's funny about it all, though? It was okay. My plans didn't work. I didn't know what to do. I had no clue how to help myself, but in all of that, I was shown just how wonderful the people are that the Lord has given me, and that even when I feel completely helpless, stressed, and like the world might just cave in, God whispers in my defiant ears, "Wait. You'll see"

My struggles, big or small, are all important to God. He can change a moment of frustration and desperation into a reminder that I'm not so alone after all. He teaches me to rejoice in my hardships, and helps me to develop endurance, character, and most of all hope. Because of this, I'm not so upset that things didn't go my way, that I am struggling and broken, or that I don't have things figured out. He is the one who will sustain me. He is the One who lifts me up, puts the pieces back together, and nurses me back to heath, and that is nothing to be ashamed of, that is nothing hide.

Growing Pains

There is nothing I love more than being challenged, and being pushed to the edge (and sometimes completely out) of my comfort zone. In eighth grade, my youth pastor asked me at a weekend retreat if I was anything like my dad. I, of course, responded, "Yeah, I'm a lot like my dad." So he gently probed, "So if I dared you to do something, you will probably do it?" I saw the challenge in his eyes, and quickly responded, "I think that's what that means." His reply wasn't what I expected, he looked me in the eyes and pulled a worm from behind his back and said, "...then I dare you to kiss this worm". Challenge Accepted. I kissed that worm without the least bit of hesitation and looked up at him with sheer dignity in my eyes. He looked at me giggling his favorite high pitched holy-goodness-I-can't-believe-you-just-did-that laugh and said, "Yep, I've gotta keep that trick in mind." He continued to challenge me through dares for years to come.
In order to grow, I need to be constantly challenged, encouraged, questioned, and pushed. I need someone to ask me the hard questions, push me to my edges, and to not be afraid to get a little dirty. My mentors in the States understood this about me, but here, I have yet to find anyone to challenge my desire for challenge. That's where God comes in. He knows me and knows that I need a little push (and sometimes a strong shove) towards growth. So in the last few months, I have found myself in inner battles, searching for challenge, and finding it in God's word. Sometimes, though, it's not enough, and God lets me struggle and strive to get closer to him.
In the last week or so, I have had the incredible opportunity to lean on God and let him love me in the way that only He can. Though this sounds awesome, it wasn't too fun in the moment. It was one of those weeks where nothing seemed to be going right. The $35 fix on my car turned into a $600 project, and on top of that, I was hit in the face with loneliness greater than I have ever felt before. So what did I do? I snuggled up with my baby blanket and prayed that something good would come of this. I prayed that I would learn what it meant to let go of my cares and worries and let God guide me, no matter the cost. I prayed that He would bring people into my life, that I wouldn't grow bitter, and that I would thrive as a woman of God completely and totally devoted to Him. I eventually fell asleep, and awoke with a new found sense of security in the Lord.
When I fell in love with Guatemala and it's people nearly a decade ago, I had no idea the blessings and love that God would reward me with when I followed his call to move. There are days that I encounter situations that make my heart ache and my entire body go numb but in the same moment, I can feel the overwhelming and insurmountable comfort that comes from the love of Christ. I have never completely understood the Beatitudes until now.

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

Being poor in spirit requires putting aside your pride. Mourning breaks your heart. Being meek usually means being overlooked. Being plagued with hunger and thirst is miserable. In order to show mercy, you have to been wronged. Making peace means you are surrounded by violence. Being persecuted has the ability to break your spirit. In order to receive the blessings of the Lord, I have to be willing to be broken and challenged. Growing hurts, but if it brings me closer to my Heavenly Father, then I'll take it as a dare with no hesitation and dignity in my eyes.

engadiministries.org
givewithahava@gmail.com

Words and Pride

Every morning I wake up and am confronted with words I don't know. Being a writer and a word lover at heart, this drives me insane.  In order to effectively communicate I have taken up dynamic facial expressions and hand motions that I would never do ordinarily for any reason whatsoever. I can tell you with no doubt in my mind that there are times I look like an absolute fool.
Needless to say, my pride has gone straight out the window.
When I lived in the States I would do anything to spare myself from being wrong. I would only answer questions that I knew I knew the answer to. I would sit at the back of my class and never make eye contact with my teachers. I was quiet, pensive, some might say thoughtful. Here, I don't have that option if I want to learn.
Every day I have the chance to learn something new or to stick with what I know, and every day I have to decide which one I want to choose. Learning involves messing up. It's embarrassing, and at times, I would rather sit in my room and watch movies in English than go out and risk messing up. Most days, though, I pray for the courage to ask questions, to make a fool of myself, and to learn.
Everyone around me has become my teacher.
It's humbling to say the least.
The Lord has me in a place of complete dependence on Him and absolute humbling with each and every day. It is this call, this love, this passion that makes it all worth it. I want nothing more than to speak freely with those I am starting to love more than I ever could imagine. God has given me a heart for these people, and thus a heart for their language.
My pride is gone. I have no choice but to go for it, to mess up, and to learn so that one day I can speak, interact, and love as those surrounding me.

Grass Roots

For years my family had this tradition that on your birthday everyone in the family would go around and give you a blessing. So the younger kids would say things like "You're so funny and I love the cakes you make" and the adults would talk about what a blessing you are and how "God is going to use you" in the next year. It was a great tradition. I looked forward to it mainly because my love language is encouragement, but I'm sure there were others that dreaded it, which is probably why we don't do it anymore.

On my thirteenth birthday, I remember that one of my brothers (you know who you are) called me grass. The speech started out with loving compliments, but eventually I found myself listening to my brother tell me why I am the family lawn. In my mind I remember thinking, ".... organic? earthy? what? grass?"  I cried, not because grass isn't awesome but mainly because I am overly sensitive and as a newly thirteen year old I didn't really want to be grass. I wanted to be a rockstar or something. 

Now that I think back, though, I understand what he was saying.

When I think of any good Oklahoman grass I think of thick, lush, dark green, soft to the touch, moist grass. It's the grass you roll around in with your dog and have picnics on at the park, the kind you run through as a child when you play tag with friends, the kind that neighborhood friendships and communities are build on. Grass... it's usually overlooked. You don't think about the beauty of it, or why it's there, rather, you take advantage of it. It's not just to be looked at. Grass is to be played on, to be trampled by happy feet, to create a soft spot to land when you jump out of a tree or trip over your own feet. It's to be used. Without people walking on it and having picnics, there is no need for grass. 

A couple weeks ago we had a team come in and we went to the Ranch (our second property in Zaragoza that I'm basically in love with) and what was our task for the day? To pick grass so we could plant it at the Refuge. We picked the perfect little seedlings out of the field that surrounded us, and pulled the pieces of grass out of the weeds that were masking it.   At the end of the day, we drove back to the Refuge and transplanted our freshly picked grass in a place that it could flourish.  As we planted the grass in the drizzling rain, we knew that this small task, planting sprigs of grass three feet away from each other, isn't something that is just going to look pretty. Rather, it's going to hold the earth together so the rain can't wash it away. The roots are going to spread. The grass is going to take root. The green lush is going to spread over the whole hillside. 

I want our boys to be this grass. Right now, they are surrounded by weeds. But after years of rain and nurturing they will spread, grow, cover their land, and be the roots that hold their community together. I want them to take root in the Lord and grow. I want them to spread to all the nations. I want them to be the ones that build up their community and make it a safer, more beautiful place to live.


They all have gifts and dreams, and I don't want those to go to waste. I want the boys to feel important, to be confident, and know that they are loved and adored. I want them to feel like they have a reason to grow, that there are people who need them. They won't be overlooked anymore, because we are picking them out of the dirt, and pushing aside the weeds, and giving them a place to grow.  

Laughing with Jesus

I have to be honest: I miss laughing. My best friends in the States would leave me with a hurting belly and sore cheeks after eating dinner together or playing frisbee in the parking lot on nearly a daily basis. I laughed with my parents over the stupid TV shows we would watch. I laughed with my brother as we wrestled over our favorite blankets on the couch. We laughed all day, every day.
If any of you know me well, you know that I love deep conversation, I thrive off of it, but I also thrive off of witty humor and pure hilarity. I love making witty and sarcastic comments. I love to laugh at my own jokes. I love being tickled. I love when you get to that point when you are laughing so hard you can't breathe. I love that awkward silent moment after a joke and before everyone explodes into laughter. I love having to bend over to hold my stomach because I'm laughing so hard I can't stand up straight. I love it. All of it.
It's hard to laugh when you have no clue what is happening around you. It's hard to make jokes when you can't speak a language. I don't understand jokes. I don't understand why people laugh. So instead of having deep and heartfelt conversations and laughing so hard I can't stand up, I've found myself in constant silence. Listening. Learning. Growing closer to the Lord.
In the silence that is my life, I've found a refuge in the One who made me with this overwhelming desire to laugh. He understands, and lets me laugh at myself. He brings a joy to my life that I wouldn't have known otherwise. I've found myself talking to God as I drive home from work, walk around Antigua, and clean my little room. I make jokes to myself at the dinner table and I laugh at myself and He laughs with me. The other day some guys whistled at me as I walked down the street and I said, "Can you believe that, God? Why do they do that?" And He laughed at me. He laughed with me.
Though I miss having friends, I love have having God. I miss laughing, but I love rejoicing. I cry because I miss things, and He laughs because he has a plan.
It's wonderful to serve such and incredible loving Father, a father who knows your every thought, your every desire, your every heartache.
Last night I told my mom that I had too good of friends in the States, that I should have never made friends so I would never know that right now I am lonely. And at that, she laughed. And I laughed knowing just how stupid I really am.  The Lord gave me those friends, and gave me this time of silence so I will know what it's like to depend on Him, to make Jesus my best friend, to laugh with Him, to cry with Him, to walk down the street leaning on Him.
It's not easy, this life of silence and solitude, but it's good. It's good for me to know what it's like to let Jesus hold me and talk to me and whisper His secrets in my ear. It's good for me to have to rely on the Lord for comfort. I have no other choice but to run to him in the good times and the bad. After a day of joy, I run to Him. After a day of sorrow, I run to Him. And he holds me all the same, and reminds me that He is my comfort, my healer, my friend.

engadiministries.org

Painting Paradise

A couple weeks ago, we went with one of our teams into Paradise to paint the soccer stadium and hang out with some of the kids. As we lugged down the huge paint jugs and all of our supplies, the kids and families met us and asked us if they could help us paint. Of course we said yes. As we started to distrubute the supplies and get started painting, kids came from all over the neighborhood. (One thing I have learned quickly from spending time in Paradise is that when it comes to gringos, news travels fast when we arrive.)  After painting for a few minutes, there were more kids on the stands than there were gringos. Looking into their sweet eyes, we couldn’t help but give the kids the brushes and let them go to town, painting their stadium. It was truly a beautiful sight to look up into the stands and see the kids painting their own thing. I think the kids got more paint on each other than they got on the stands, even the dog was painted blue at the end of the day, but with each swipe of the brush and uproar of laugher as they got paint in my hair or accidentally painted a huge stipe across my legs as they walked by, I was infinitely blessed. I loved getting to know their precious faces, and asking their names over and over again, and listening to them giggle when I messed up what I was trying to say. They just smiled up at me with those big brown eyes and there was nothing I could do but hold their paint covered hands and giggle at the fact that I had no clue what I was saying. 

As we painted, we talked about what they wanted to be when they grew up and which subjects in school were their favorite. I stumbled through my broken Spanish and marveled at them as they taught me the words to say, pronouncing them slow and without accent. We ran around chasing each other with paint, and laughed as they put their hand prints on my T-shirt at the end of the day, forever making their claim on my life. 

As we painted and played and talked, I got to tell the kids that at the end of the week I wasn’t going home. That I would see them again soon, that I loved them too much to leave.  The looks on their faces were sometimes puzzled and other times full of joy as they realized that this was my home and that all of our laughs and broken words wont just stand as an incredible memory, but rather the start of relationships. 

I went home that night and played conversations and memories over and over in my head.  Josue, one of the best little painters out there, wants to be an architect. Julio wants to be a doctor. Yoselin wants to be a secretary. They all have dreams, just like I did as a kid. My dream was to be a missionary, and after years of encouragement and lots of prayer here I am. Now, my dream is to pay it forward. 

My dream is to make their dreams a reality. 

Engadiministries.org

Not so distant

I knew being a missionary in Guatemala was going to be hard, but in the last day I have been hit with the realization that it is going to be harder than I thought. Yesterday when we went to the work site to pay our workers. Don Chepe, our block mason, told us about how his wife was very sick. She has diabetes and is no longer reacting to insulin. Her blood sugar is staying at about 550. On top of the diabetes, she also has a lung infection as well as a urinary tract infection. In the last few weeks she has been having a series of strokes. She is beyond sick, and Don Chepe is still at work, making our vision come to life. We prayed for Don Chepe, his wife, and the rest of his family as a team and then we all went back to work. Just another heart breaking day in the life... but it wasn't over.
At dinner we were listening to a CD that our church had given us and one of the pastors voice came on and Juan Carlos solemnly said, that's pastor (I forgot his name, but we will call him Alberto), their pastor and close friend. At that moment the entire table became silent. I sat there quietly knowing something was wrong and soon Eric, the other intern who also lives with us, told me the story of how Alberto died. He had gone with a friend to pick up a car in one of the more dangerous neighborhoods. The gang members captured him, shot him and put him in the back of the car. They then called the Police and told them they had "left a present for them in the back of the car". This was two months ago. Everyone started crying. Sandra, my Guatemalan mom, said that they hadn't had the chance to cry about it until now. My heart continued to break.
I love these people like they are my own, and can't imagine the struggles they go through. Every day I'm here the hardships become more real. A lot of the time I think about the problems of Guatemala being so removed from me, but in all reality, they aren't at all. In that case, they are removed by two degrees. Their troubles aren't so distant anymore. I'm not so distant anymore.

That's why I'm here.

engadiministries.org

Tall White trees and cobblestone streets

In the last few days, I have been surrounded with some of my absolute favorite things. I've been surrounded by colors, bright and beautiful, people, sweet and simple, and nature that shows God's finest handiwork. Cobblestone streets, crazy drivers, and Spanish constantly surrounds me as I yearn to learn. It's funny how the language has struck me since I arrived. In the States Spanish is so easy to drown out, but here, I have no choice but to try to pick apart every piece of it, hoping that one day I can speak as they do. I'm completely overwhelmed with gratitude, peace, confusion, and information overload. I have learned more in the last 4 days than I did in the last month I spent in the States. I've been sucking information in like my life depends on it (because it does) and trying my best to live and breathe the culture as if it was my own. It's not as hard as I thought it would be. I'm not as nervous or sad as I thought. I'm just me, living in the place I like to call home.
The family I am living with is precious and absolutely wonderful, yet it is in that house that I have found my biggest frustration: not knowing the language. I feel stupid most of the time because I have an answer to the questions they ask me, and I understand full well what they are saying, but for the life of me, I can't find the words to respond and so I just smile meekly and say, "Si", "Esta bien", "Gracias", or "Okay", and most of the time a complete combination of the four.
Today was the first day I had access to the internet since I got here. It's funny how much I didn't really miss it. In the time between getting on the plane and now, I have learned to play chess, tried loads of new foods, learned to drive a standard in Guatemala, watched movies, walked around town just for fun (does that ever really happen in the States?), visited the places I have come to love the most, laughed with my dad and brother, and experienced my new life to the absolute fullest. I love it more than I may even know. Though it is my job to communicate with people in the States, I really don't want to spend my life on my computer, at least not for the first little while. I'm trying really hard to adapt to this new culture, language, people, etc, and english, and the internet isn't much help in that situation, so balance is key.
I know many of you have a million questions that you want answered about my life here, but the truth is that I don't really have the answers yet. I'm a huge jumble of emotions. I am content. I am relieved. I am thankful. I am free.

engadiministries.org

Toxic Charity Book Review.

I’m very interested in what it might look like to implement a lot of the practices that I learned from reading When Helping Hurts from the first class, so reading Toxic Charity was a great suggestion concerning community development and how churches and organizations, religions and secular, can give help to those who need it without demeaning them or making them feel lesser than the giver. The author is blunt yet sensitive in presenting the critique on our ways of giving. In the very first chapter, the author immediately presents the reader with a list of rules of how to give compassionate service in a healthy way that is beneficial to both the giver and the receiver. Lupton’s rules are simple and set a great foundation for giving of any kind. He challenges the reader to take The Oath for Compassionate Service, as he calls it, which is a follows:

1. Never do for the poor what they have (or could have) the capacity to do for themselves.
2. Limit one-way giving to emergency situations
3. Strive to empower the poor through employment, lending, and investing, using grants sparingly to reinforce achievements.
4. Subordinate self-interests to the needs of those being served
5. Listen closely to those you seek to help, especially to what is not being said-unspoken feelings may contain essential clues to effective service.
6. Above all, do no harm.

This oath will ensure a kind of service that will be successful in creating an environment where the giver and the receiver both feel empowered through service and being served.
Paternalism is our greatest enemy when it comes to helping the poor, or as Lupton calls them, the “have lesses”. Avoiding paternalism and encouraging people to do what they can to help themselves immediately shuts down most of the service that is seen today. Our culture is very concerned with helping people and giving to the less fortunate, which is great, but it seems that though the intentions are pure, the help does more harm than good. For example, when a single mother loses her job and is evicted from her home, giving her and her children an apartment free of charge and providing her with food and clothing for the children “until she can find a job” may not be the best thing for her. In fact, it creates a dependency that is unhealthy. Soon, you may find out that this mother isn’t searching for a job as intently as you would have expected and hoped. Who can blame her? She is being given food and clothing, and a place to stay for free. Why work when you’ve already got everything you need?
Our society says that all aid is good aid, when the fact of the matter is that often times our aid falls into hands that misuse or abuse our aid, making seem that not giving aid is more helpful than actually giving aid in some regards.  For example, trillions of dollars have flooded into Africa in the last decade and still very little progress has been made due to corrupt governments and the fact that our aid actually puts people out of much needed jobs. The greatest problems with dead aid is that many have no clue what is happening with their money once it is given and relief aid is often given too long, which keeps a community down instead of encouraging it to pick itself up.  Providing emergency type aid is not usually necessary except in cases such a natural disasters. It is temporary and should quickly move to rehabilitation which over time should move to development. Rehabilitation and development are harder and take a lot of time, so often, they are pushed to the side and supplemented by quick fixes that ultimately don’t help much over and extended period of time. The sad thing is, people simply don’t know the difference. The US is extremely uneducated when it comes to aid giving. We need to find a way to figure out what to do with our money that is healthy and beneficial. I hope that after time the news will spread and rehabilitation and development will become the new goal when it comes to raising money.
I think often times the poor are forgotten when it comes to trying to help them. We have this preconceived idea that the poor need us because they can’t help themselves, which is ridiculous. People in poverty have loads of gifts and abilities that as an outsider looking in, we would never know without building relationships with these people. The poor are not completely helpless and inept, they are important, capable, gifted human beings that for some reason or another have found themselves in a place where they need some help. Those with less know their situation, their community, and their lifestyle a million times better than we do. Don’t you think we should ask them about their own ideas for changing their own situations, communities, lifestyles? Often in our attempts to do something for someone, we find ourselves doing to them instead of doing with them. It’s a top down approach. We are at the top throwing down our ideas and gifts on top of people whose own ideas and gifts are being ignored. Sounds a little brutal to me. On the other hand, when we take the approach of giving in a way that is from the same level, it is easily reciprocated, and then you have the chance to learn and give back and forth to each other. There is no fear, there is no power.  That is the beauty of giving, and serving in a way that inspires ideas, and does not create a spirit of dependence or fear, but rather a spirit of fulfillment and beautiful community. Sounds a little like a relationship to me.
I have basically taken it upon myself to tell everyone I know about these books in order to change their view on poverty alleviation and what it really means to give. These books have changed the way I view ministry, life, and service. It has helped to transform my thought processes, and the way I respond to opportunities to help out. I pray that I will use the information I have learned for the glory of God and that these wont just become a list of rules to follow, but rather a mindset and way of life. I have already had conversations with my boss in Guatemala about how we can change little things in our ministry to make sure that we are empowering the people we give to regularly. It’s been a fantastic starting point when it comes to brainstorming ideas. It feels like what I have learned from Toxic Charity is more applicable in my life than what I learned in the first twelve years of my education. It has changed my worldview, and messed up my world in a very good way. I’m inspired, and the Lord knows what happens when I get inspired. You, on the other hand, will have to wait and see.

Converging it up

A couple of weeks ago the church that I intern with held an event called Converge. Basically the idea was for four different non profits that are based here in the States can come together, get to know each other, and get to share what all they have been doing in the last few years. This included Dry Bones from Denver, Water4 who bring water to countries all over the world, Kibo group a group who works in Uganda to encourage health and prosperity in the villages there, GPS Tulsa, which is the group that I am a part of, where we help students find their way in life. All of these groups are crazy different, so it was incredible to see them all coming together for one common cause. As I sat on the panel of people from each group, I almost felt unworthy. All of these people were doing such incredible work for the Lord. It was an exciting yet humbling experience.
As the night continued, I got to know Abraham and Ronald, the men from Uganda, pretty well. They told us all about their tree planting project, through which they have planted 37,000 trees in the last 7 years. These trees are taken care of by the village people, and will one day restore the deforestation that is happening all over Uganda. While talking to Ronald, I asked him what was the most different about the United States from Uganda. At the question his eyebrows shot up and he smiled a little bit and in his beautiful accent said, "well, not much is the same at all. I think the most different is that when my neighbors hear our babies crying, they will come over to our house and ask us how they can help us. Here, I don't think I've seen neighbors talk to each other at all." To this I just kinda smiled and nodded and told him that in the US most everything is about the individual, and it sounded to me like in Uganda everything was about the whole. He smiled again and said, "yes, I think you are right."
It was amazing to hear the stories of Ronald and Abraham and just build a relationship with them. I loved getting to know them and their stories. And that's what it was all about. Building these relationships with people so very different from myself, yet so much the same. Though we live on opposite sides of the world, we both worship the same Lord and work to bring Him glory through our actions. Our lives are so very different, yet our hearts are the same.
Converge was a blast to be a part of. I am so proud to be a part of something so unique and powerful. I think God is smiling.

Vocational Sweetness

We are just now finishing up our Career and Vocation class, and though it was a lot of work and a lot of writing, I learned a lot about ministry,  myself, and who God has made me to be. During the course of this class we met with camp coordinators and ministry folks to F-16 pilots and FBI agents. The diversity was clear, and it was amazing hanging out with a wide range of people and hearing their stories and advice. Since it's late and I'm exhausted, I'm just going to give you the top five things that I learned:
1. "The truth is fine." Rick Poplin, the F-16 pilot, said this phrase over and over during our time together. He encouraged us to not exaggerate any of our situations, good or bad, because in the end, the truth about us, who we are, who God is, and our lives, is enough. We don't need to lie about little insignificant things to boost our ego. We don't need to make ourselves feel worse, or better, really, about something than it really is, because at the end of the day, our reality is enough to sustain us.
2. You don't have to be a super outgoing, energetic, upbeat person to lead in ministry. Dave Jewitt taught me this one without even trying. I've struggled with this a lot in the past few years because I have known for a fact that God has been calling me to ministry, and I felt like because I didn't like talking to large masses of people, or leading people with a loud voice, that I wasn't going to fit into the mold of what someone in ministry needs to be. Talking with Dave encouraged me to use my strengths, and to not try to be like someone I'm not. I can be my chill, quirky, slightly introverted self, and still be used by God to effect the masses.
3. Kinda like the last one, God uses ordinary people to do extraordinary things. Dr. Kyle Jones was apparently at some point just an average guy. He didn't stand out in the crowd, which is hard for me to believe considering that now he is building bridges between warring tribes in Africa through medicine. Kyle basically has my dream job. He is a doctor of family medicine in a small hospital in Africa. He is amazing. It was incredible for me to just sit across the table from him, so when I was told that this guy is slightly introverted, never top of his class, or the big man on campus, it was a little bit unbelievable for me. It just goes to show that God makes us ordinary people extraordinary, and through us does unbelievable things.
4. Our God is always faithful when we are acting within our calling. When we met with Denise McKinney  she told us what it is like to be a woman in ministry. She told us of her struggles as she went from one church to the other turning in applications with no responses. She said that she knew that God had called her to do this ministry, and though it seemed hopeless, she wasn't going to give up. After months of job searching Denise finally walked into the church that would soon hire her to do exactly what she wanted. God knew what He had planned for her, it just took patience. Patience is one of the things I've always had a hard time learning. I want to know that God is taking care of me right this very minute. I don't like the mystery. I don't want to wait, but at the end of the day, God is still there, faithful as ever, always working for my good. 
5. Gifts turn into passion, and passion turns into calling. Tom taught me to do what I love and to let God take control and guide me toward my calling. He taught me to continue to follow after Christ, and do the things that inspire me and to let God guide me, and push me in ways that nobody else can. Listening to Christ, was a huge factor in this, and he reminded us to continue to listen for His voice and follow our hearts within reason.

The Anti-Resolution Resolution

Every year I make all these outrageous New Years resolutions to finally start working out (which has been on my resolution list for the last 3 years), and all kinds of things that in the end cannot be accomplished without wasting the rest of my free time for the matter of doing all the things I thought would make myself a better person. I start the year wasting my valuable time with my friends so I can sweat to a Jillian Michaels' work out video then clean my room in the attempt to "live an organized life" (what does that even mean little 15 year old self?) etc. So, instead, in an attempt to actually live the life I have always wanted and not live by this crap checklist that I've made for myself, I have bid my stupid resolutions adieu and just starting being the woman God has made me to be. It's quite freeing, actually.
I always made fun of those people that talk like a new year brings a new person or that the struggles of the last year suddenly disappear with a date change, but oddly, my year happened to begin with many "fresh starts". As the clock struck twelve, my heart began to grow lighter, and I began to rejoice over the little things and let God handle the big things. As I have written in my previous posts, I often find myself under the impression that I can carry the world on my shoulders all alone, but the honest to God truth is that that is just straight up dumb. This year, my heart will be light, while my burdens will be many. It will be the year of constant adventure, exciting change, and heartbreaking goodbyes.
I'm one of those people that has never been afraid to show my emotions. I cry in public often, and laugh hysterically when appropriate. So the emotions that come with moving away and starting a fresh new life are abundant. I am scared to death, yet I have never been more anxious and excited. This year is going to force me to grow up. I will live in the moment every moment, because I know that if I let myself, I will spend my valuable time looking towards the past or future, which is almost as great a waste as working out or cleaning my room just because I told myself I have to.
So Hear's to the new year. Here's to growing up. Here's to learning new things. Here's to adventure. Here's to being the woman I was made to be.

Mumford and Sons basically defines my life these days. So here's a little taste.