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

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

Top 20 list!

I like making lists and to celebrate my 20th blog I'm going to make a list of 

20 things I love about my life right now; single, in school, living at home... ;]

20) My alone time. All of it.
19) I can talk to myself out loud without looking ridiculous.
18) When my 5 yr old brother sneaks into my bed in the middle of the night.
17) That I get to have buddy time with my 14 yr old brother.
16) Hours on the piano
15) Honestly, living at home.
14) Being one of the parking dudes
13) My dad taking care of me.
12) Being an aunty to 5 fabulous boys.
11) Tea dates with my friends.
10) Sitting before the Lord and holding nothing back.
9) Driving at night by myself and telling God how I'm feeling.
8) Taking my brothers with me to my classes.
7) Same 4 songs all night every night.
6) My David brothers. Seriously.
5) Texting my sistie about things only she knows about.
4) The 4 amazing families I babysit for.
3) My hair is getting longer :)
2) Long talks with my mom about what God is doing.
1) Having that wonderful peace on the inside from Jesus, trusting in His heart for me even when things don't look like they're going to work out. 


Love,
Me

What "I love you" sounds like

Dear Blog Audience,

My youngest brother has Down Syndrome but he is absolutely precious. Even now as I'm writing this, he is sitting with me on my bed. I love these times because it is him in his adorable footie pajamas finding all the little things in my room that a baby shouldn't play with and me becoming a puddle of mush as I watch him be cute. Usually when we're hanging I don't get on the computer because I love to cuddle with him and "talk" with him. I don't always know what he is going to understand and we have about 20+ signs that we all use as a family when we are talking to him. Often times he surprises me with how much he understands. Like when we're praying for our meals he always reaches his hands out to be part of our circle around the table. When we say, "bous" [Arabic for kiss] he puckers up and puts his mouth up to kiss us and when anyone says "Yay!" he automatically claps and his face lights up. He's such a wonderful child.

Tonight though, I was surprised and melted both when he understood without the sign language when I said, "I love you."

He was snuggled up against me with a grumpy look on his face because I had just told him he couldn't press on the laptop keys [my own fault, I know.]. But I leaned over and said, "I love you." and his entire face lit up and he smiled. All I did was say the words, there were no gestures or anything. I said it again and this time he held up his hand with his pointer finger up (his interpretation of the "I love you" sign in ASL.). He kept holding up his little finger at me without me saying anything. He knows what "I love you" sounds like and looks like. And I know he knows what "I love you" feels like because he gives and receives love, just like all of my other brothers. 

I guess because so many people are choosing to abort their babies when doctors say that the child has Down Syndrom, I have the amazing privilege of loving and stewarding a dying race. What if my brother had been given to another family and that family heard that he had Down Syndrome while he was still in the womb and they decided they didn't want that child. Then no one would have gotten to say "I love you" and see his face light up. I really do have a treasure. 

Love,

Me

$100 for a temper tantrum

Dear Blog Audience,

Yesterday, I had a temper tantrum. (This is a very important part of my story so pay attention to this wonderful example of how mature I am.) It was me, sitting on the couch, blubbering, and telling God about how I didn't know why I felt so emotional or tired or if my family was okay or how I was going to survive with school and being single (yes, yes, I did bring that up...) and reminding God of this that and the other thing. Now, I know that temper tantrums are usually little children flailing around on the floor creaming bloody murder but for me, it was still a tantrum. I just let it all out and vocalized so many of the questions and doubts going around in my head after just one week of school. I'm an internal processor so I usually don't have to talk to figure out how I'm feeling but last night I talked (or whined, both are true.) and cried and was border lining on having a pity party. Thankfully I just dried my tears, prayed, "God, help me." and carried on with my night.

As you know, I'm a baby sitter and one of my nights to work is Friday night which meant my bouts of crying and being frustrated at how I was feeling was interrupted by changing a poopy diaper, helping another child use the bathroom, getting the baby get back to sleep, checking on the kids etc. That's how moms do it, right? Thankfully most of my time is simply spent in the living room next to the baby monitors watching the Friday Night service at church.

The guy who gave the exhortation last night prayed for us and he said, "Just pray in your own words, 'God, come woo my heart again.'" So I did. Of course I was crying again (because I just cry all the time these days) and I figured there wasn't anything to lose. I cut down the lie that God would disappoint me like so many other people in my life and declared at the end of my prayer, "God, You are good. You are kind. You have been faithful to me." On one hand I knew that God would come through because He loves to answer my prayers but on the other (more dominate) hand I didn't fully believe that it would happen because why would God take the time to woo my heart? I already believed in His goodness and His wisdom, why would He take the time to convince me again? That aching and longing to be satisfied clung to the hope that God would touch my heart again and the tired, overwhelmed part of me tried to reason myself out of believing. It was a battle inside of me as I prayed but I shoved it out of my head and just focused on the next person who was talking in the service.

It got to be later and later and the parents texted to ask if they could stay out and finish a conversation they were having. I told them it was fine and took the extra time to write in my journal (more tantrum just in written form) and cry and search "cute babies" on google. I found a website called "cute baby fix" and it helped tremendously to distract myself. Finally the parents got back, paid me and I left without looking at my check.
I got in the car, my mind set on just going home and sleeping and hoping that I felt better in the morning. I was driving home feeling blah and discouraged when I decide to pull out my check. I expected it to be the normal amount or maybe a little extra since it was later than usual but I did not expect it to say $100. That was it, the flood gates were opened and I bawled like a baby all the way home. I asked God, "Why?! Why did You give me $100 when I threw a temper tantrum tonight? Don't You remember me sitting in the living room telling You about everything that You needed to fix? I was being a baby and You turn around and woo my heart! Why?!?!"

But... why does this surprise me? This has been the story of my life! The little kisses of love from my Heavenly Father that are given simply because He knows that it will show me, once again, that He loves me. What kind of God is this? He doesn't need me. He doesn't have to even give me my next breath. Yet throughout my entire tantrum I breathed again and again and used each breath to question the heart of God for me. And then He kisses my heart and says, "Baylea, I love you."

Me!
A finite creature!
A girl that struggles to trust the only One who has never broken a promise!

On the drive home last night I said, "God, I can't give You anything because anything worth anything inside of me is already Yours. I can't love You except that You placed love in my heart. You gave me my body when You created it. You give me breath. You are the One that made my spirit. And You take the time to show me that You love me. Again! I already knew! I was already convinced of Your goodness and Your kindness but You saw me and heard my weak little prayer and answered it."
Before I got into bed I read Psalm 139 and could hardly choke out the words as each verse spoke so deeply to my heart at that moment. When I woke up this morning, all of the doubts and questions and rampant emotions were gone and inside of my heart was a peace. The peace that God has given me before. What a wonderful gift it is to have peace on the inside. 

And there you have it, folks. The story of how I got $100 after throwing a temper tantrum. And of how gracious and wonderful my God is.

Love,
Me

[P.S. I do not suggest you throw a temper tantrum but God will answer those prayers you pray asking Him to reveal His love to you again. Do it. I dare you.]

The Mom School

Hello blog audience,

Guys, I have the best job in the world. It prepares and equips me for my calling more than any other thing in the world. It fills me because I get to pour myself out. What am I? I'm a babysitter of course!

Tonight I got to do more than I normally do because I went over earlier than most weeks. I got to get the baby up from her nap, I got to cook them supper (it was frozen pizza, but still! I put that thing in the oven and cut it and fed those kids!), I bathed the littlest one, got them all to bed AND I cleaned the house (I love doing that and then leaving before the parents notice.). Granted, the kids were really good today, but I super enjoyed it.

I consider my babysitting jobs (there are three-four families that I babysit for regularly) the most important training school in my life at the moment. This strikes me as ironic because I get paid to babysit and in turn, use that money to pay to go to school. My highest calling, however, is not to play the piano and sing. One of my highest callings is to be the help-mate of the upstanding young gentleman that I have yet to meet and be the mother of the children God places in my life. [The highest calling of my life is to love God and love others.] I consider those two roles of wife and mother to be much more important than any job or school or degree or position in the whole world. And babysitting those precious children is my prep school.

When I babysit this particular family I always have the opportunity to learn more. The kids are wonderful and I love them all dearly but they are very full of life and probably smarter than I am on several levels so it takes a lot to keep up with them. The boys are not like my little brothers and the little girl is not like the other little girls I babysit. This gives me the opportunity to learn how to love differently. How to correct differently. How to see the world differently. Every child that is placed in my life gives me another chance to learn how to love differently. I love that about my job.

I know that when I become a mother, my children will not all come from my womb. They will come from many different countries and families and I'll need to know how to love each child the way that is best for them. I will need to know how to correct and discipline each child in a way that is best for them. I will need to know that the world doesn't always the same to each pair of eyes, but I'll need to get down on my knees so I can see the world the same way a child does. I have been praying for my kids for years and I know that some of them are probably already born. What is it going to look like to be the mother to the child another woman carried for 9 months? I don't know, but I know that these nights that I get to love the children I babysit for, God is working in my heart love for another child that will become mine.

And hopefully, when that day comes, and I have a bunch of kids and my husband and I want to take dance lessons (or even just go to wal-mart) we'll find a babysitter that can love our kids and who cleans our house just because she can. Sounds like an awesome girls to me ;)

Love,
Me