2 years.

How do you write about the loss of something that hit you so deeply that it still affects you to this day, two years later? How do you write about the joy? The pain? The love? The confusion? The victories? The loneliness? The miracles? The little things? The big things?

March 25th, 2010 I landed in New York with everything I owned and a broken heart.

Just a few days ago I found a secret place and spent some time talking to Jesus. I had been having a good day, loving my team and being in Wisconsin but I had reached the point where I needed to be alone. I needed to talk to the only One who had never let me down. These past couple weeks God has been taking some of the most painful memories I have from the move and transition and telling me how He felt about them. Showing me where He was as I walked out of the air-port onto American soil, as I laid on the bathroom floor at 2am crying, as I sat in church and saw everyone hugging and laughing and loving and ignoring me. Last year my song was the faithfulness of the Lord. This year it has been how personally God sees my pain and the hard things I go through. I broke down and cried as Jesus whispered, "I cried the day you went home and you found out you had to leave because I knew that your heart was going to be broken and so many lies were going to come against you. I felt that pain with you."

After talking and crying, I was fine and rejoined my team. That night we shared testimonies for a bit as a group and after two other people shared one of the leaders turned to me and said, "Baylea, I want to hear your testimony."

I don't think people who have never gone through loss fully realize the significance and the healing that comes when you get to share your heart and your story with people who listen. I had resigned myself to carrying my grief alone and quietly this year as I would be traveling until today and I didn't want to force myself onto people who didn't want to know. That just makes it worse. And then I was asked to share with my whole group. It was a gift from the Lord. I shared few details but I cried as I talked about the pain and I cried when I talked about the faithfulness of God to my heart and how He had been showing me His extravagant love for me.

I have come so far since those early days in Kansas City. I thank God for His perfect leadership and in my next breath I pray, "Jesus, let me go back soon. I want to go home." And one day, I will.

Jesus,
You love me so well, better than I could even imagine. You have been so faithful, so good, so kind. You have been so worth every step of the way.
Amen.

Current obsession and other thoughts on Spring Break

Dear Blog Audience,

I'm afraid I've run out of interesting things to write. At least, that's how it feels sometimes. I really shouldn't be writing this now because it is late but I wanted to write something during spring break and I leave tomorrow for La Crosse, WI. If you're there or even close to there, you should join my team and I at our youth conference. It'll be fun.

My current obsession has been working on my best friend's present. It's a present for... well a lot of things. I haven't seen her for two years now. That's a new record for us and I hate it. She's turning 22 in June. She's getting married in July. She lives far from me. And I really really love her. I don't want to say what it is on here because she reads this but it will definitely trump every other gift I've given outside of hugs and my time.

On Sunday it will be two years since leaving Morocco. I've been going over in my head my last week I spent in Fes as I get closer to the day. Part of Faith's present had me researching my old journals and pictures and I have had some really good times of remembering home. If you followed my twitter last year, you'll know I'm doing five million times better than I was then. Last spring break I spent the week on my bed moaning and mourning. There have been tears this year but they have been healing tears. I don't mind still crying for my home. My love for that place runs deep... You can take a Fessie out of Fes but you'll never take Fes out of a Fessie. 

Tonight I didn't even want to blog because I messed up. Big time. Like, I came home and cried for two hours as I listened to "How He loves us" and felt God loving me and recounted over and over again my big mess up. It's in my moments of seeing my ugly pride, my brokenness and my inability to do anything good on my own that focusing on how God loves me more than what I did/can do that really bring healing to my heart. That's where the truth is nailed down and unshakable. Because if I believe that never once during my "moment" did God stop loving me, than during my tender worship and the times when loving others comes easy, it's not going to be about me. It's going to be about God and His steady love for me through it all. Whether I have an amazing night or a horrible night, I can 100% trust that love for me. This is my anchor.

I feel sorry for people who don't have big brothers like me. Like my friend Shawn. Years ago when I was little and broken and confused, that boy made me feel safe, loved and important. Everything in my world was shaking except for him. And even then, he probably was shaking but he didn't let his shaking keep me from feeling steady around him. I don't think I can count one time where I was in trouble and I didn't wish he was there because I have yet to find anyone else who can make me feel as protected and valuable as he does. Tonight as I was bawling my eyes out, he texted me back and slowly but surely calmed me down and put a smile back on my face. This is my big brother. He's amazing.

Pray for me while I'm gone. I come back Sunday.
Love,
Me

Official Announcement

Hello Blog Audience,

Here it is. The official announcement that most of you have not been expecting or waiting for. Yet, here it is nonetheless.

I'm graduating.

That's right, folks! Your girl is up and moving on! I have "known" for probably my whole IHOPU career that I was going to do only two years but I didn't want to rule out the possibility of four years if that was what God wanted me to do. I love IHOPU and I would do two more years in a heart beat if I didn't have the overwhelming sense of Jesus guiding me into new things. I don't even know what they all are but I feel like once they start, they aren't going to stop for a while and they will require me in a way that I would not be able to give if I was going to be a student. From what I can tell right now, I'm going to be swimming in free time with no families to babysit for and no school and all the homework and extra stuff that goes along with it. Although school won't end until May and my families aren't leaving until June. My "free time" might have turned into something else by then.

I think one of the hardest parts about finally saying that I was for sure going to graduate was the fact that I do really love this school. I love my classmates, I love the training, I adore my teachers and the way they bend over backwards to give us the best that they possibly can. There is something that grew inside of me over these past three and a half semesters and I'm not the same hurting and immature 22 yr old girl that I was when I started. I loved Jesus and I knew He could do anything but now I love Jesus and know He can do anything. In a totally different way that is the same. When I started I had only been in the states for 5 months and I thought I was going to die with all the strangers and no one talked to me and I was in culture shock and then I went to California. I made friends and memories and realized how powerful our school is as a whole. What other school calls off school for 3 weeks so that they can send as much of the student body as they can to Southern California just so that they can strengthen houses of prayer and witness on college campuses? I started the music part of FMA and began to pour out my life as a prophetic musician on the piano. I learned how to play with excellence. I learned how to play from my heart. I learned how to play with humility. I learned how to play with a team that was going somewhere. I cried because I was tired. I cried because I needed Jesus. I cried because I was tender. I cried because my heart was aching. I survived because I leaned against the heartbeat of my Beloved. I survived because of the grace of God. I survived because I chose to set my heart on Jesus and not the things of this world. I survived because I had a great cloud of witnesses around me, praying and prophesying over me. I survived and some days that really was a miracle.

I hated having to tell people I was considering graduating because I knew that my teachers and leaders wanted to see me go through all four years. As I started telling people what God was speaking to my heart, though, I began to see them excited for me. And it was a wonderful feeling. My favorite teacher gave me one of her special smiles and said, "That's amazing!" My small group leaders told me, "God has great plans for you!" and even though there were a few negative responses, for the most part, everyone shared in my joy. It's bittersweet. I'll miss the people I have classes with and my worship team and doing my class cheer with my sophomores and the things that students are required privileged to do. I'll miss small group and be a part of all the different things an FMA girl is a part of and being on the inside. I love my IHOPU family.

Well... Who knows what this next season will look like though. This may just be surface level compared to where I am going. I comfort myself with the fact that I'll still be in the area and I'll still get to spend hours in the prayer room and I'll still get to run around the IHOPU campus hugging my friends. Yes, this last semester was hard but not hard enough to make me want to quit without God guiding me into something new. It is those hard seasons that really strengthen you and teach you how to live life in humility. I can't wait to see my future unfold one day at a time as I continue forward under the faithful leadership of Jesus. Letting go has always been hard but my heart really is excited for this new phase to start. 


This really is a journey.
Love,
Me

Open Doors

Dear Blog Audience,

I don't know how many of you actually read this because the commenting system on blogger is a lot more complicated than on facebook so taking the time to comment is not usually done. I know. I don't usually comment on anyone's blog except for Faith Kelley's because... well, because she's my best friend. None of this really has anything to do with my main topic for the night though. If I were an awesome writing, I'd find some sort of connecter but I... Haha, I just reread what I wrote and I wrote, "If I were an awesome WRITING..." Okay, moving on!

My life has seemed pretty much the same as it has for the past year or so. I do school, family, Jesus, prayer room, babysitting, friends and being single really well because that is the rhythm I've created. It's been awesome and I've enjoyed the routine of living at home, keeping busy with school, loving on the kids I babysit for and having time to just sit and worship Jesus in and out of the prayer room, with and without friends. Because really, when you love Jesus and your friend loves Jesus and you spend time together and you leave feeling edified and loved, that is an act of worship as well.
I like routine. I like sameness and normalcy and familiarity. Maybe it's because I spent so many years on a never ending change of houses, places, countries, friends, neighbors, family, travel, school and lifestyles that I clung to any semblance of routine so tightly. Now that I'm here, settled in one city for two years this month and in the same house for two years in June doing the same school for two years in May and still being single for four years in June, I'm finding that I'm itching for something to change. I want to get on an air plane again. I want to pack my life into a couple suitcases again. I want to be smacked in the face with culture shock again. I want to have a different view from my bed room window. I want to have different foods in my kitchen. Not constantly changing, mind you. Just for now. I'm hitting the "it's been two years so we're obviously going to move again." mark and knowing that this is the first time in 14 years that we will be passing the two year mark in the same house is making me jittery. Maybe change was my normal and that's why I want it so badly right now... 
All that to say, I think some change is finally coming. I have felt it all year that this year is going to be a new season for me. I don't know exactly what it will look like but things are beginning to come to light finally. For a while I thought maybe it was just me wanting to be in a new season because nothing seemed to change. I was still in school. I was still a babysitter. I was still living at home. I still loved Jesus and I was still single. And it didn't look like that was ever going to change. It would continue to be like that for as far as I could see.

The shift began on Friday night when the family I have babysat for the longest said, "You want to move to Colorado?" I didn't realize what they meant was, "We're moving to Colorado, you should move there too so you can continue to babysit for our children." And not just them but two other families that I babysit for weekly. That is three out of four. Not only did it make me sad, (because I love those families dearly and adore their children.) but it kind of freaked me out. That's the majority of my income right there, moving to Colorado. That means a new job or something else that doesn't require me having a job. I don't know. But it definitely means a new season.
Then today I sang with Pablo Perez. For those of you who do not know Pablo, he is the head of FMA (Forerunner Music Academy) and is from Argentina. On Friday I was asked to sing with him which shocked me because he's only heard me sing once and I didn't think it was that great but he apparently liked it. Naturally, I said yes. I mean, come on, the head guy over my whole school just asked me to sing with him for a conference! I'm not stupid and I wasn't busy so there you have it. I said yes. Anyways, I felt like me singing with him was going to open up a door somewhere that would lead me into my next season. I didn't know what that would look like. The conference I was going to sing at was  Korean one so I was imagining all sorts of things that could happen... I showed up to sing with him today, he said, "Baylea, I'm starting a team for the Prayer Room and I want you to be one of the singers. Pray about it." And the light bulb clicked on. That was my door. Really? That easy? And that amazing???
So there you have it. Things are finally changing and I hope that this satisfies my urge for change because I don't think I'm going to be moving houses or cities any time soon. What this means for school and boyfriend and loving Jesus... well, I'll still love Jesus but the jury is out for the other two. If you'd like to take some of your precious time and comment, I'd love to hear your thoughts on my changing times. But other than that, I believe I have written all I needed to for the night.

Love,
Me

"A lack of joy in worship is pride and unbelief in your life." Laura Hackett

Dear Blog Audience,

As a leader of a worship team semester, I am I learning all sorts of things that I never realized a worship leader had to deal with. Some things have been easy and learned so quickly they were hardly an issue (like using the talk back and playing at the same time, staying on the click, and falling in love with my team.). Other things have been harder to learn. There have been days when I've been tired and struggling to come up with choruses or staying on tune or remembering to direct the other musicians on the team and get the best feel for the song. There have been days when I've been ready to lead, so excited to play and sing for Jesus and take my team with me as we sing the word or intercede. It's been such a positive experience for me and I am thankful for my school giving me a safe environment to learn worship leading skills in. Even if I do mess up, I'm not freaking out because there is a room full of people or because I'm leading a church service. It's just a bunch of students and a coach that is there to help us learn from our "train wrecks" as we call them. Not everyone gets this type of safety as they lead a team of people musically and spiritually.
The biggest place of warfare that I've had since I started leading worship, however, hasn't been with my team mates or with the music. It has been with my mind. My thoughts. My heart. My emotions. I've been struggling to keep my thoughts humble and encouraging. I have always been quick to judge things and I have prayed long and hard that I would be quick to love like Jesus, not take what my eyes see and turn that into my perception of that person or situation. I haven't always been satisfied with my leadership abilities, or my voice or my piano playing. I compare myself mercilessly and sometimes it's out of a prideful, "I can do this better" spirit and sometimes its out of a, "I might as well quit, I'm the worst person on the team" spirit. Back and forth, up and down, in and out my thoughts have gone literally EVERYWHERE since this semester started. I'd think something and then instantly reprimand myself for thinking it. It was about clothes and music and voice and choruses and situations and home life and a bajillion more things. As you can probably tell by now, it was a huge battle for me.
On Tuesdays, we have chapel for the music school. One of my favorite worship leaders, Laura Hackett, spoke to us and most of what she talked about was her own struggle as she became a worship leader and she hit on the thought life of a prophetic musician/singer.

"When you have those thoughts, you just have to repent and keep going because your attitude and unrepentant heart could keep your entire team from going someplace with God." 

That was the gist of what hit me. I could relate with almost everything she said and her words of wisdom to just repent and move on was exactly what I needed to hear. The next day I was leading so I started debrief off with an apology as their worship leader of letting thoughts of jealousy and pride and disunity hold me back and affect our team. They all nodded and said, "Yeah, us too!" and that set was the best set I've ever led. I felt the Spirit so strong and it was a joy to lead my team to partner with God. I think what we were really feeling was freedom and joy. It was awesome.
I know I have a long way to go as a worship leader but I am thankful for all the lessons I am learning along the way. I'm not going to ever have a perfect set or a perfect team but I will have sets and teams that are someone and help me grow in love. And that is exactly what I want!

Love,
Me

I love being me

Dear Blog Audience,

As someone who used to struggle with self-hatred I cannot tell you how absolutely freeing it is to dress up and get all pretty and really believe that I am beautiful. I didn't look in the mirror and think, "I wish I was skinnier or taller or tanner or had straighter and whiter teeth...." I looked in the mirror and said, "Wow, God! Look at me! I feel beautiful!"
I love that I have freedom in rejoicing in my femininity. I don't have to get dressed up and have someone do my hair with a thousand bobby-pins but neither do I have to kick-it in my jeans and converse all the time to feel beautiful and comfortable. My skin is my skin and God loves to watch me twirl around in front of the mirror and feel confident. Yes, I did agonize over what I was going to wear and did wonder if the other girls were going to like it but in the end, I decided I didn't have to worry about that. I looked beautiful and I felt comfortable and modest. Me feeling beautiful didn't depend on what the other girls were wearing or whether I was 100% happy with my choice of clothes. It depended on if I listened to that whisper on the inside that said, "I made you. I delight in you. I say you are beautiful. That's all that matters."
When I went to check my make-up in the mirror, I smiled and was drawn to the crinkles around my eyes. I like them. I looked so happy. Yes, my make-up looked awesome, but I loved the joy that I saw. That made me feel beautiful.
The reason why I was all dressed up and primped out was because the sophomore guys of IHOPU were giving the sophomore girls of IHOPU a special luncheon to honor us as their classmates. Usually me in a room full of beautiful young ladies that are dolled up and dressed to the nine's would have me comparing everyone and everything. I'd be calculating everything that they didn't compliment me on and wonder why they didn't. But not today. I walked in and immediately had several girls all say, "Baylea, you look beautiful!" and I believed them. They were gorgeous and had such cute dresses and earrings and were all glowing and I could say back, "You look beautiful too!" I meant it and felt joy in saying it to them! If I had not felt beautiful, I would have sucked in all of their compliments and not handed them out because of insecurity. What a wonderful gift to be free of the insecurities. Not only did I feel honored by the guys, but I felt honored by the girls too in how they complimented me truly and were confident in their own beauty.
What a gift to be free to enjoy the skin God gave me. To look at my hands and feet and stomach and face and thank God for them! It's been a journey because I don't look like what I was told beautiful was. But beauty isn't what I see. I can't define it. I don't even know what True Beauty looks like. But I know that loving how God made me makes me feel like the coolest person in the world no matter what I'm wearing or what anybody says to me. God's heart for me and for my generation is not to despise our bodies and how we look. He made us to be comfortable with our arms and legs and front sides and back sides and use them to glorify Him. Just loving our bodies in a healthy way is an act of worship and is a way of thanking Him.

Love,
Me

I'm just used to it

Dear Blogging Audience,

This is my fourth attempt of starting this blog. The other starts were wonderful and were full of exactly what I was trying to say except... Not really. See, what I'm trying to convey is the feeling of tension I have right now. I still don't know how to write about it.

Do you know how hard it is to be faced with how empty your heart really is when you had just reached a point where you were getting used to things? I've gotten used to living in America around monolingual people who love their monocultural lives. I've gotten used to not having time to keep in touch with my best friends. I've gotten used to be so isolated from my past because I have no one to remember with or talk with. People look at the pictures on my bedroom wall and get overwhelmed as I rattle off who is who and why I love them so much. Two minutes later they're moving onto a new subject and I'm just getting started with talking about how precious those people and places are to me. I don't like the feeling of showing someone the most beautiful thing I can think of sharing with them and them not seeing it as beautiful. It stings. So I have gotten used to just sharing the bare minimum. And I've been okay with that. But was I really okay with it, or did I just get used to it? Was I really as restored and my heart as healed as I thought it was or was I simply numb to my underlying emotions? And this is where I feel the tension. I am still in pain over leaving but I am also at a healthy place of moving on. Don't ask me to explain this. The best way I can is me, sitting on my bed, reading my old journal from March of 2010, crying because I can still feel that same emptiness and because I'm so grateful for where God has brought me since then. The tears were most definitely because I was grieving and they were most definitely because I was so thankful. This is my life. This is my tension.
This month marks 2 years since we left. That plus seeing Krista has opened my eyes to the fact that I'm not as over it as I thought I was. I didn't feel this tension just a few weeks ago. I had a pang of homesickness every once in a while but not like this. Not the constant tug-of-war. I could look at the hundreds of pictures I have from Morocco and not feel anything and when I did start to feel something, I would just turn it off. Part of the cut-off in communication was me preserving my last bit of sanity. I couldn't say, "I miss you" anymore. I just couldn't handle it. So was I really fully processing my emotions or was I just used to the numbness? I think it's both.

Some things are good things to get used to. Like being a big sister, eating healthy food, journaling... They are all aspects of my life that I'm used to. That I'm comfortable with. It would be strange for me to go home and see that my mom had gotten us McDonald's for lunch or for me to just stop writing in my journal every day or if suddenly my little brothers weren't a part of my life. But I don't really think about those things, they just are. I've gotten used to them and that's fine. It is my life and part of life is having certain things that are so much a part of you, you don't have to think about it. You just live accordingly.

Other things I don't think I should be used to. Like pain.  Not just emotional pain but pain from the Arthritis too. Most days I don't even notice it because I'm so used to it. But is that what it should be like? It has been 20 years so I was 1st diagnosed and I remember laying on the examining table with the doctor making silly sound effects for me as he moved my joints. When he was done I went out into the waiting room and looked into the fish tanks at the  hundreds of fish. This might be my earliest memory of my life. That was the day the doctors told my parents what was wrong with me. I don't know how I know that because I wasn't in the room when he told them but I just remember that day being the day we found out. That doctors visit has shaped my life every day since then and I've had to come up with ways to do the same things as everyone else does without thinking. I've grown used to my limitations over the course of my life, how could I not be be used to it? But I wasn't made to live in pain with body parts that don't work and constantly worrying about whether I can do something or not. I don't want to be used to this disease, I want to be used to expecting God to heal me at any moment.

And this is my tension. Being used to things. Becoming unused to things again. This is what it means to live as a stranger on the earth, waiting for Jesus to come back and make all things new. Hallelujah. Come, Lord Jesus, come!

Love,
Me