Romans 12.

Dear Blogging Audience,

This morning I flipped my bible open to read John 14 and 15 because that is where I automatically turn to when I want to mediate on something. But instead my bible opened to Romans chapter 12. I stopped and decided that re-reading what used to be my favorite chapter in the bible could be a good idea. In light of the Justice Fellowship starting tomorrow, this was the perfect scripture to feed on.

As I read about offering myself as a living sacrifice because of God's mercy toward me, I realized how much more I need that mercy than I did when I first read it years ago. His mercy is so great. So needed. I've been so blind, so weak, so cold, and so proud. But God has mercy on me and leads me so faithfully and so gently. How can I do anything less than lay myself down as a living sacrifice for Him? This is true worship. I long to worship him truly. My heart's desire is to be a true worshiper and from this verse, I know what that looks like- complete surrender. Letting the renewing of my mind effect my thoughts and actions. Allowing the Holy Spirit to keep transforming me as I gaze on Jesus. Wasting my life on the Lover of my Soul.
My favorite verse from the passage is [still] verse 9.

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.

In a society where so many people are loving what is evil and letting their innocence be stripped from them, this is not a popular view on life. How do you hate what is evil when it is in every form of entertainment and part of our daily lives? How do you cling to what is good? Do you stand on your soap box and try your hardest to stay above those that are below you? But how do you sincerely love someone if you're constantly trying to stay above them in an attempt to cling to good things?
I'm thinking about all the different people I'm going to be meeting in these next few months. There are going to be broken people, angry people, bitter and depressed people. There will be people who had their innocence taken from them and people who gave it away. I am still going to have to really love others, hate evil and cling to what is good. I am going to have to cling to Jesus. I am going to have keep my heart alive. I am going to have to keep my heart tender. My love must be sincere.
This is why it is so important to never be lacking in zeal and to never lose my passion for Jesus. It is so easy to love what is evil when my spirit is dull and it's impossible to really love someone when I am not  keeping my heart connected to The Vine. Loving others comes out of loving Jesus. I can't be joyful in hope, patient in affliction or faithful in prayer without zeal for serving God. The moment I let my heart become dull, I don't see the mercy God is pouring out on me. All I can think about is how uncomfortable it is to lay down my life as a living sacrifice. I don't see the reward in clinging to what is good when everyone tells me that I am being foolish. I can't love well, practice hospitality or share in someone else's joy or sorrow without my heart being alive.
The subject of humility is all over in this chapter. Not just surrendering to God but being a part of the body of Christ, serving them and preferring them above myself. Being devoted in love to my brothers and sisters requires humility and having a heart to go low. Blessing those who persecute me requires me to find my identity in God and God alone, laying down every single right and resting in the fact that I have a Righteous Judge. When I am confident in who God says I am and I have my heart set on going low, that's when I can truly rejoice with someone who is rejoicing. That is when I can truly mourn with someone who is mourning, no matter how I feel. I can associate with people that the world looks down on- the orphan, the widow, the foreigner, the homeless, the sick, the prostitute. I cannot remember God's great mercy toward me and think I am superior.

The last verse is something my mother told me almost every time I left the house to go hang out with friends. She said it to my older brother, she said it to my little sister and there will come a day when my little brothers will hear it too.

Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

As I start my Fellowship, this is exactly what I will be doing; overcoming evil with good. I'm going to be loving those that have been rejected, I will be listening to the voiceless, I will be speaking truth over those that those who are bound by lies, I will be bringing awareness of those who are ignored.
This is impossible unless I remember God's mercy, I surrender my life to Him as a living sacrifice, I go low, I keep my heart alive and I cling to Jesus' goodness.

Love,
Me

 

Uncomfortable.

Dear Blogging Audience,

I was thinking the other day what word would be describe this current season in my life. It's not Unwanted because I really do want what God has for me. It's not Unneeded because God never has me go through things that are unnecessary. But it's Uncomfortable.

I'm uncomfortable because I thought by now I'd be doing something with someone and there is no something or someone. During school it was easy to not think about how single I really was. Now that I don't have a job or commitments to take up most of my time, I can't ignore it anymore. I have waited so much longer than I ever anticipated and I am so incredibly thankful for the way God hemmed me in and worked on my heart so I can go into a relationship with maturity and a bit more wisdom. Like I said, this isn't unneeded  or unwanted... Just, Uncomfortable.


I'm uncomfortable because I'm done with my part of moving forward in joining staff and doing the justice fellowship. I filled out the applications, got references, made sure the emails were received and double checked all my answers. Now I just wait. And it's in the waiting that the doubts and questions sneak in and make me a little bit anxious. Again, with nothing to really occupy my time, it's hard to keep my mind at peace on this subject too.

I'm uncomfortable because there's a giant pickle jar in my living room that doesn't have enough money in it. Remember me mentioning the pickle jar before? Well, I can tell you why now... My family is adopting.  This is something my mom has talked about doing for yearssssssssssssss and now we finally have a little boy in the Ukraine that God has knit our hearts to. As amazing this is, it's uncomfortable. I already love this little boy and want him here to be with us. We aren't sure what to do without having the financial resources we need at the moment. There isn't a doubt in our minds that this baby is for our family OR that God will provide. But it's uncomfortable.

Everything I wanted to get done in my room and with my future is done on my end. I can't make a husband appear out of no where. I can't make money appear so we can adopt. I can't make the people tell me that I'm in or not. I have to wait. This isn't unwanted or unneeded. But it sure is uncomfortable. I want to honor God with my life this summer, I don't want to lay around thinking, "Gee, I wish there was something to do." I want to be a good steward of my time and my talents. I don't have a car and I will have very little income for the summer so that very much limits the way I spend my time. Being pulled from my comfort zone and stretched to see areas of darkness in my heart aren't exactly fun but I need them. Having the things that hinder love inside of me be burned away is painful but I want it. I want to continue to work through the things of my life that do not glorify God.

Jesus,
In my life would you have the glory. Especially when I am uncomfortable.
Amen.


Love,
Me

NIKO!

Dear Blogging Audience,

I AM GRADUATED! You are reading the words of an IHOPU 2 year certificate recipient. Thank you all for reading my blog while I walked out these past few months. They've been intense but they've been so worth it. Since being graduated, I've already written a song, applied to the Justice Fellowship that I am planning on doing in the fall for three months, partially finished the application to join staff, gotten connected for a summer job, done my laundry, cleaned my room, learned how to make peanut-butter/butternut squash pancakes, loved on my boys, spent 8 hours in the prayer room, balanced my check book, bought my return ticket home from my friend's wedding in July and hung up my new pictures on my bedroom wall. I feel so grown up.

I don't have much else to say except that I'm learning how to trust Jesus to make the big pictures He has shown me part of my little every day pictures. Just because I'm graduated doesn't mean I can go crazy and try to make everything happen. It's still my job to surrender, each and every day. Little things are unfolding. I give them back to Jesus. He shows me what He's doing. I let it go and tell Him that I trust Him all over. Learning how to be steady without being hemmed in by school, learning how to manage my time because I have much more of it to myself. Ooftah. I knew life would be "harder" once I graduated. Not in a bad way, just in a, "I'm the one in charge, I have to be the one to make the decision." way.

Oh, and in happy news, my hair is getting long and I love it. Also, click here.

Love,
Me

One Day It's Gonna Happen...

Hi Blogging Audience,

I wanted to update because it's May. May of 2012. This... is a huge month for me. Why? I can't tell you. But it is huge and after I graduate in 17 days, I'm going to have a lot more time to think about all the implications that May 2012 means for my future. One day it's gonna happen...

My family has a giant pickle jar of change on the top of our book shelf in our living room. Why? Well, I can't tell you that either. Not yet. But it's amazing and I have yet to contemplate how different life with be once the jar gets filled and the change happens. One day it's gonna happen....

I cannot tell you how bittersweet this home stretch of doing IHOPU is for me. I will be overjoyed to have no more books to read or papers to write or practice logs to turn in or assignments to finish before deadlines or awkward seating arrangements. Praise the Lamb. One day it's gonna happen... May 20th, 2012.

But... that also means no more worship team. No more running hard with a few hundred of the most awesome people in the world. No more favorite teacher. No more rising to the challenge, whatever it may be. No more having the opportunity to have some of the most humble and anointed leadership in my life. No more school pride. One day it's gonna happen... May 20th, 2012.

There is a certain direction I'm headed once school ends and I know that I can be excited about it but I'm not yet. I'm not exactly sure what it's all going to look like but there will be children and nations and learning to love in practical and life-changing ways. Yes, I am putting off the application process because I'm pretending that things aren't changing. But... isn't this what I wanted? Yes. And I believe this is the open door that God was talking about when He told me to graduate. One day it's gonna happen... August 10th, 2012.

I get to see my best friend. And my other best friend. And my other best friend. And my other best friend. I get to fly on an air plane for the first time since leaving Morocco. I get to leave the country for the first time since leaving Morocco. I get to see my best friend for the first time since leaving Morocco. Words can't describe the depths of excitement I have inside of my little heart right now. It'll probably mess me up for months afterwards because this goodbye is going to reopen a very painful scar on my heart but it's going to be worth it. One day it's going to happen... July 7th, 2012.

So, hopefully I'll have more big news on my blog about why May 2012 is significant in my life and why we have a giant pickle jar with money in it in our living room  before too long. We'll just have to wait and see. But know this, one day it's gonna happen... For sure.

Love,
Me

Letting go of what I thought would happen...

Dear Blog Audience,

This morning I woke up thinking about my team that I went to Wisconsin with over spring break. When I went on this trip I thought I knew what I was getting into. I thought it was going to be a group of people that loved and served each other, had fun times together and encountered God as a group but when we got back, we'd all go back to our own little worlds and say, "Oh, I miss you guys! We should hang out!" but nothing ever happens. Because that's what normal short-term trips do. Heck, that's what my DTS did and we lived together in two different countries for 6 months. Because people moved on. I moved to another country. All of them are married (or are pretty much married) besides me (that will be another blog for another day *sigh*). And little by little we just closed off that little part of our heart that missed those people and gave up on ever having a DTS 2007 reunion. And no, it never happened. But hey! We're all facebook friends! This is what I was expecting to have happen with my Wisconsin team. In fact, I know my heart was guarded as I went into this trip because I didn't think any of them would actually want to be in my life once we got back to Kansas City.

During my very 1st semester of IHOPU, we had a HUGE trip to Southern Cali. Pretty much the whole school went so our teams were ridiculously big but I fell in love with my team. We all gelled and made memories and worshiped and ate and ministered and loved and laughed together. My heart was absolutely crammed full of happy I love you feelings for my Bus #5 mates. Then we went back to KC, we went back to school, went back home for Thanksgiving, we hardly saw each other the last few weeks of the semester and then Christmas happened and... Bus #5 never reunited as a whole ever again. Thankfully some of those people really did become friends though so that even without Bus #5 context, they are still a part of my life. However, when buses #'s 1-4 all had hang outs after we got back and we didn't I'm not going to lie, I was super sad.

I don't want to make this blog about the other ministry trips that I've had but I want to give you a context as to why Encounter 2012 was so incredibly different. I never got SUPER close to my Florida team from last summer but our leader made a valiant effort to regather us for an evening. That also never happened and I carefully put up walls around my heart so that I wouldn't be disappointed by the fact that they didn't really seem to care if I stayed in their lives or not. Some still hug me or carry on a conversation with me. Some walk right past me. No big, it was just a 10 day trip with 2 day car rides on either end and sharing beds and going to Disney World.

So, this is kind of what I was expecting from Team Encounter. We had 22 people and I thought, "Okay, I'll have fun and we'll make good memories but this is going to be the only time we're ever together in the same place at the same time. " This is a real thought I had in my head. Why? Because I've lived in a context where this has always been true. Not just at IHOP but starting when I was a 13 year old and we moved to Wisconsin for my family's DTS. Then in Morocco when teams and groups would come through. My fessie youth group. Even the people who wanted more than anything to come back and see each other again, it never fully happened.

When we got back to KC and my team started to say how sad they were to be away from everyone I thought it wouldn't last for more than a week. (I sound like a horrible person! But this is truly what I thought) We had our debrief and it was awesome getting back together in the same place and laughing and eating. People had been genuinely touched by our team unity and wanted that back in their lives. Our team leader started an e mail chain that said, ""Thinking about you guys and missing you. That's all :)" and I was surprised. Usually I'm the one that does that. After our Cali trip, I wrote a note on facebook about the people on my team and how much I loved them. That's when I began to rethink this whole team thing. Maybe this time I was wrong? Maybe this team will actually stay a team? Maybe this time people will actually keep these friendships a priority?

Ben and I were talking the other day and he said how our team email chain had made him sad because he realized all over again how he missed everyone. This was weird for me because the email had done just the opposite. It had made me happy. People were actually continuing our team friendships! This was what I had always wanted to happen! And I also realized that I've lived for the last two years since I left Morocco having to maintain the most important friendships in my life over e mail and skype. Ben just gave me a look which made me realize how differently my view of friendships have become. I left thinking, "I need to treasure these people."

I have been saying "I miss you" to my best friend for 2 years because that's how long it has been since we've been in the same country. Now I have this group of people that are all in the same city and going to the same school and I've come to see just how high my walls have become. This little team has beat the odds and has continued to stick together. Yesterday I went to watch a small fraction of my team to play basketball but it was just for my team. And it made me smile. We've been planning another get together that we are trying to include as many people in as we can. I'm going to be there. Because I'm letting myself let go of the mind set I had before and enjoy my team and being part of a family. My team is precious. I know that eventually people will move and others will graduate but maybe we'll beat out the odds that stay a family even after that happens. At this point, I'm not going to count anything out.

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow...
Love,
Me

All is for Your Glory.

Hello Patient Blogging Audience,

I can't tell you how many blog entries I had started in my head, and I actually had one started about a week ago but they just never made it to the publish button. I wanted to write about hearing someone say, "God loves weddings. He really does." and how that shifted a wrong view I had of God. I wanted to write about my incredible Wisconsin team and how bonded we became. I wanted to write about my first set in the Global Prayer Room (GPR) and how God set my heart to sing to an audience of One. I wanted to write about how my little brother is flying by himself to another state for 6 weeks and how much I'm going to miss him. But I couldn't because I have found myself in the midst of an incredibly busy school semester. After spring break, we changed theology classes and we have one of the best classes in the school. This class just so happens to involve daily and weekly homework that makes a fairly tight schedule get to that point of bringing me to tears. I love the content of the class. I love the teacher. I love the check lists. I just have realized that my homework is increasing dramatically this quarter. Because of this, my blog will probably not be tended to as faithfully. But when I get to the end of this semester, I will feel like I've actually completed something worth bragging about. Not that I want to brag about it. Anyways. Moving on...

On Sunday I went to a bible study that I usually attend. It's not really a bible study but I call it that for the sake of simplicity. It's a group of women that meet bi-weekly and hear someone speak. Anyways, this last Sunday we had a lady who took the time to prophesy over every lady in the room. I was almost the last person in the line and I was curious to see what she would say because she had been saying something different over each person. The other ladies had received good words about things in their past that added to their present, little nuggets of who God made them to be, truth about callings, ect. When she got to me she asked me my name. I told her and right away she said,

"Baylea, you are the most noble among women." 

Didn't really see that one coming. She talked about how nobility have this way about them that other people didn't get. Of all the words people have spoken over me, I do not remember a word that hit my heart like that one. I always feel a bit awkward in that group because it's a group of about 40 beautiful young women who dress in adorable outfits and have such huge hearts for Jesus. I look and feel so small next to them. Even this last Sunday, I was not dressed in my finest. I was sitting with my feet on the chair and my knees pulled up to my chin like a little kid. And then bam! Most noble among women.

I don't even know what that exactly means but all of a sudden, I took myself seriously. I saw myself as important. I saw myself on the inside, not on the outside. My Father is the King of Glory. I have royalty in my blood. There is a confidence in my heart that wasn't there before. My Jesus hears me. He is for me. I can live knowing that I have an unshakable hope and love vast as an ocean. Jesus Christ.

That being said, my heart has been longing for a new development in my waiting for my husband. It's been a struggle looking at the coming weeks and thinking, "I have no idea when this young man will find me." and setting my heart to wait. But not just wait. I want to finish my single years well. With joy. With peace. With hope. With confidence. With excellence. Just as I am applying myself to finish my time in school to the best of my ability, I want to end my life as a single person bringing glory to Jesus' name. Daily I remind my soul to find joy in the Lord. Daily I speak the words, "Jesus, only You satisfy." and they are a comfort. Today Jesus used a freshman to encourage me to wait for my husband. It wasn't anything complicated. It didn't need to be! Honestly, just hearing the same words that people have been telling me for years is enough. Wait, Baylea. Just wait. He's coming. He's going to love you. Never underestimate the power of a well timed simple truth. 


I will close this blog with the disclaimer that I do not know when I'll have time to write again. However, if you read this anytime between now and May 18th, please feel free to pray for me. A well timed simple prayer is powerful as well.

Love,
Me

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.

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

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

Best Friend. All of them.

Dear Blogging audience,

I'm writing this post with one of the best people in the world next to me. This is the girl that I said goodbye to last the night before I left Morocco. We cried as we clung to each other and tried to make the moment last forever. We both knew that as soon as we let go, she was going to leave and I wasn't going to see her again for... a very long time. After we got to America, I replayed the hug over and over, trying to squeeze any type of comfort out of the memory. After a few months, I gave up because those arms that had held me so tightly the night we said goodbye were so far away and I couldn't feel them. I remember my last Sunday before we left for America she wasn't there. She had been gone all week and had been gone the day I found out we had to leave. I wanted to hug her so bad. To talk to her. After church I went to youth group and had to leave in the middle to see someone else. When I went back at the end to get my little brother, she opened the door and I literally fell into her arms because I was so surprised and relieved to see her.
It was almost two years to the day when we finally saw each other again. She was road tripping with some friends and they were on their way to visit someone else and were going to drop her off on the way. We'd known about this weekend for weeks but I had refused to let myself get excited because the crushing weight of unfulfilled plans was too much to go through. Again. This time, however, it was going to happen. She had texted, "fifteen minutes!!!!!!!!" and my stomach was twisting with anticipation. I was watching out the window for the head lights, looking at my phone every two seconds to see if she had texted, my heart jumping with excitement. Then there was a car. It slowed down. Oh my goodness, it was her. I opened the front door and looked out but I couldn't see who was driving because it was night and the headlights were still on. Then, the driver's door opened and the driver stepped out and I knew it was her. I shrieked, ran out into the drive way and met her half way as she was running towards me. We hugged as tightly as we could and two seconds into it, her shoulders were shaking and there was a lump in my throat. This time there was no impending goodbye but we didn't want this hug to end either.  The longer we hugged the tighter we squeezed, trying to get as close as we could and fill up the places that had been empty for what seemed like had been eternity while we were apart. They were the same arms, the same shoulders, the same girl... Finally, the wait was over.
We let go of each other and laughed, tears in our eyes but our hearts were literally flying. I didn't realize my legs were shaking until I got her inside with her bags and her friends had left. She was mine for 2 days and 4 nights. Reality became too good to be true and I didn't know how to believe it. On one hand, it was so easy to have her here. It was so natural. Our rhythm was still there for talking late into the night, sharing our hearts, watching children, loving Jesus, laughing....

I tried to explain to my friends here at school how I have two best friends and my two best friends have two best friends and we're like a best friend triangle. Actually, there are more than that. It's like a star of David, all connected with different points. Is that normal? So even with my best friend here, we both missed our best friend. Is it not normal to have to wait for 2 years to get all of my best friends in "one place"? (Praise God for Skype) Is it not normal that even after those two years, we still had that same deepness and trust there? Even after not being able to share our lives regularly, we shared our hearts with the same honesty and laughed at old jokes and new jokes and said, "I miss you!" over and over and over. Is this not normal? This is the definition of best friend for me.
I realized how much my heart ached for those friends to be in my life again, all in the same youth group and just a taxi ride away. Where our every day lives involved all of us and we couldn't wait to talk to each other and tell everyone what had happened because we were family. Now we're all at a point in life where we don't have to share all our stories with each other because we live in 3 different states and three different countries. We are all (with the exception of one) in university with new wonderful friends and new houses that we've never seen and new places that we've never been to and interact with new people that we don't know. Our new friends became our new sources of verbal processing and, this is just me, but I stopped getting on skype and facebook chat because it was too hard to say, "I miss you." for the millionth time and still have no reunion to look forward to. I couldn't handle it. But there were still there in my heart.
Sometimes I miss the freedom I had with those friends to just be myself all the time and not worry about how mature they did or did not think I was. I miss showing up on their door step saying, "I just wanted to talk." and being welcomed in for the rest of the night. I had a tooth brush at my friend's house. I regularly ate supper with my pastor's family without being invited. Whenever one of us was doing something, all the rest of us were asked to join in because life was better with our family of peers. We knew each others fears and weaknesses, our battles and what we loved the most. Of course, we had those that we were closer to than others but it was impossible to say, "I need you more than any of the others." because I needed them all. They all needed everyone else. That's why when people started leaving, we all began to unravel. Just like you can't take one thread out of a sweater without the whole sweater beginning to fall apart, that's how we were. Knit together by life and Jesus. We didn't fully know how blessed we were to have what we had until it started crumbling away in our hands and there was nothing we could do to stop it. Thankfully, the bond is still there. It's just stretched from South Africa to British Columbia with many stops in between.

(later)
So, my best friend just left. You know, the one that was here. I was able to hug her goodbye and know exactly what day I was going to see her again and that day really isn't that far away. But my heart still aches because this weekend I was reminded of something I forced myself to forget- How easy it is to be with my best friend. There were no tears as we hugged, no shaking shoulders or eyes clamped shut against reality. We were smiling. But the second the car drove out of my drive way, there was an emptiness. It wasn't overwhelming like it used to be but it was still there. I was just barely able to comprehend that my best friend was with me when she was whisked away again. I wasn't planning on crying but I did. Suddenly my crammed bedroom felt empty and I thought, "Oh God, do I have to go through this process again?"
This doesn't mean the peace or the joy are gone. I'm not going to go into a tailspin and get depressed about not having my best friends. I have Jesus and He has been so much more than enough. He has also been so kind to bless me with weekends like this one, with people He placed in my life. He loves that I have more best friends than I can count on one hand and that we still feel like a family. He loves fellowship and community and people being together and loving each other. He delights in the fact that I can share my heart with my friends honestly and feel 100% safe. He knows that I have a history with those friends that far outweigh any other friendship I've had before or since. And it's pleasing to Him! There was joy in His heart for me as I talked and laughed and went to school and ate and worshiped with my friend. It blessed Him to know that my heart was absolutely glowing with happiness. Not only did He place these people in my life, He gives me love to love them with and rejoices over me when I get to be with them. What a wonderful God!

Love,
Me

And then there was today...

Hi Blog Audience,

Today it is snowing. I like snow. I was born in Minnesota and had a few winters in Northern Wisconsin before I moved to the mountains where our winters always involved getting snowed into our house at some point. so I know what it's like to look out the window from October til March (give or take a month or so) and see white everywhere. After a few months, it gets old. This year has been very mild and it reminds me of my more recent winters where snow was very uncommon. For us we had rain and mud and sometimes a brief amount of time where we had sleet mixed in but my last winter there (2010) I slept with the window in my bedroom open until the middle of December. Not because it was hot, but because the fresh air was wonderful and I could.
What I do NOT like about snow is driving in it. It's scary. Even though I'm a cautious driver, some people are stupid and sometimes really cautious people are caught up in accidents because stupid people don't think and their lack of thought injures all the people around them. I'm not mad at them, I'm just scared of them. I was really hoping to have a snow day because... well, mostly because my body is really stressed out so the pain is reaching a point where I get distracted by it. ("The pain" meaning the Arthritis pain.) I'm used to pain. The normal amount of pain. The email declaring my freedom for the day did not come however so here I am, on the 4th Monday of the school year.
When I started this semester, I had just finished one of the best semesters of my life along with an awesome Christmas break. My spirit was soaring, I was totally optimistic that this semester would look like last semester because my heart was in the same place of pressing deeper into God and giving up the things of this world. Little by little, I'm realizing how different this season will be for me. Last season was fruitful. This new year is starting with a pruning session. I've had a lot of pruning since coming back to America and I didn't understand a lot of it but at least now I know that the pruning means that the last season was fruitful and now the areas in my life that had growth are being cut back and taken care of so that in the coming year, they can grow even bigger and bear even more fruit. (Analogy coming from John 15).
For me the pruning looks like not liking one of my classes, having a lot of pain, realizing for the millionth time that I'm still single and living at home at the age of 23 1/2, feeling how poor I am in spirit and having my buttons pushed by my brothers (remember my other blog post?). I know that I need this pressing and shaking and refining, I don't want to fight it. I also don't want to be scared by it. There is no need for me to be upset by all this because I know that it's my Heavenly Father helping me grow even more and He is gentle with my frail heart and broken frame. I want this just as much as my flesh hates this. This is my journey. I have my heart set on doing and finishing this semester well and ending my single years well (whenever that will be) and in all things rejoicing. Even with a swollen knee, limping down the hall way to a class that I don't enjoy before going back home to a house that belongs to my parents, not to a house of my own with my husband. I will rejoice. I will. Because the joy of the LORD is my strength and by golly, I need a lot of strength right now.
The wonderful thing is that even in the midst of the pruning and the refining, I have joy. I have peace. I have confidence in the love of my Father. Sometimes I have to fight for it. Sometimes I just have to sit and receive it. The Word is hitting deeper than it used to. I don't ever say, "Well hey, this looks like a good time to be pruned.", I do say, "God, whatever You're doing, I surrender into Your hands because I trust Your goodness and Your gentleness." Like David I will say,

You have also given me the shield of Your salvation;
Your right hand has held me up,
Your gentleness has made me great. [Psalm 18:35]

Today my journey is marked by snow and pain and joy. Hopefully tomorrow will be a little less white.
Love,
Me

"The Next Generation Is Coming Through Us."

Hello Blogging Audience,

Tonight at my Women's Captured meeting we had a phenomenal woman of God come and talk to us. The main topic of her message was women and the wounds on our hearts. She said many thought provoking and and true statements but one thing that struck me hard on the inside was when she said,

"Girls, the next generation is coming through us."

I never heard it phrased that way. It gave it such a sobering meaning. As a woman, I will be entrusted with the next generation coming from my womb and from my house. All through out history, since the very beginning of humanity, the next generation always came from the women.
On one hand, I'm honored to partner with God in raising up the next generation of men and women that will be history makers. But on the other hand, I'm terrified. I look around and see girls that aren't ready to be mamas. I see girls that can't even look someone in the eye because they have so little sense of self worth, how will this girl look at her beautiful daughter and say, "You're a princess." I see girls that dress like they've been treated- cheap. How will this girl raise a son who will respect women? I see girls that are still little kids on the inside, how will these girls be the authority and example that their children need? I see girls that think that fathers aren't important because they never had a father and the lie has blinded them from seeing the critical role a father has in the life of his son and daughter. How will her son grow up and be a man? How will her daughter grow up and know how to be in a trusting relationship with a guy?

These things are all common in my generation. Bitterness, unforgiveness, anger, jealousy, pride, self-pity, we ALL have these things in our hearts! And when we don't address them and take them to The Healer, we're going to raise a generation that says it's okay to be in an immoral relationship. They'll say it's okay to be mean, to be proud, to hold grudges, to put others down so that you feel better and to lie to cover yourself. I am not okay with this.

We, as women, must take our stand to be the example to the next generation. Whether it's your child or your sister's child or your neighbor's child or a child you see at wal-mart. Exemplify respect for elders, for your husband, for others in general. Go low and serve with a happy heart. Listen to them, encourage them, speak truth and identity over them. I want to see the next generation be the most God-fearing, truth loving, love giving and humble generation that has ever walk on the planet earth but they're not going to just be born like that. They're going to look to us as mothers, sisters, aunts, friends and people of authority. What we show them will be mirrored back to us. These little ones will come from us, our friends, our relatives, our neighbors and our peers. God wants to partner with us to raise a holy generation who will be filled with the Holy Spirit from the womb.

Jesus, show me how. Amen.

Love,
Me

A day in the life of an IHOPU student [Class Cheers]

Dear blogging audience,

Last night I read the blog of a lady who had hundreds of followers and was amazed at how many updates she just did about life. I'm not going to fool myself into thinking that this blog will become a huge network of people with 300+ comments on each post but I figured giving you guys a peek into one of my busy days wouldn't hurt.

Thursday:
This morning I woke up happy. Not that this fact is all that uncommon but on a morning like this one, it could be classified as a miracle. In fact, last night when I wrote in my journal and grumped before going to bed,  I was anticipating having a crabby morning. I was ready to feel exhausted, unprepared for the day, discumbobulated [like here] and introverted but I really didn't. I woke up, I found clothes that matched, I grabbed the right books and got myself to where I needed to be at the right time. And I felt joyful. It was wonderful!
And today in class, we had a quiz which I "studied" for. (Defnition: read through the notes with a highlighter and high lighted the things that sounded cool.) and I only missed half a point. Not gonna lie, getting a good grade really boosts my happy level for the day. The rest of class wasn't a normal class. Instead of sitting and listening to our teacher talk, we were assigned study groups and a topic to discuss.  After discussing our topic for about half an hour, we all got back together and one or two people from each group went up and shared with the class what we found in our groups. The topic of my group was the Mercy of God. What a wonderful and deep subject. Mercy is communicable (an attribute of God that we can portray in our personal lives) but the more we talked about it the more transcendent it became. Mercy is an eternal attribute of God but how did He show mercy before creation? How will He show it after we've been redeemed? Those questions sparked something in my heart. I love that I will have all of eternity to study the mercy of God.

Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good!

    For His mercy endures forever.

Psalm 136:1

This afternoon was IHOPU chapel. Everyone goes. Freshmen through seniors, night watch and day watch, ministry students, music students, media students. Personally, I would put chapel in my top 5 favorite things about IHOPU. We all come together. We all love each other. I get to hug all the people I don't normally see and we hear from someone in leadership over IHOPU with a provoking and heart stirring message. But, the highlight (for everyone, no joke) are the class cheers. One of the top IHOPU faculty members always goes onto stage after worship and talks for a few minutes but before she leaves and lets the speaker come up, she asks, "Okay, you ready for the class cheers?" The order she picks us to do them is random, sometimes picking the freshmen first, sometimes the seniors, sometimes the cheer that she personally likes the best... Whichever way she does it, we all get excited. Now, the sophomores had the best class cheer the beginning of the last semester. [Yes, I am a sophomore.] The Juniors had created a call and response cheer and it was pretty good, but we took their idea and made a longer one. Last semester, the Freshmen tried to come up with a cheer that was good enough for our faculty member but she's picky and week after week would say, "Come on, Freshmen! Find something better!" (all out of love.) Sophomores got booted out of #1 spot earlier last semester by the interns that joined us during chapel. It was a sad day when they were given a standing ovation and the "Kings and Priests" were simply old news. Today we didn't have the interns and we had the director over all of IHOP-KC there as a guest speaker. Last week we didn't do cheers because the spirit fell the cheer lady was crying and getting ministry (don't worry, it was worth it.) so we were all stoked to do our cheers for the first time for the Spring semester today. Classes had literally been practicing and thinking about it all week because we were so excited. Announcements were finished and the speaker was about to start and a cry went up from the hundreds of students in the auditorium, "Class cheers! Class cheers!" The response was, "We don't want to take time from the speaker." "Oh, no. Go ahead." Our speaker smiled. "I want to see this."
The student body erupted into shouts of thanksgiving and we all sat in anticipation as our cheer director came onto stage and grabbed a mic. The order was decided and Freshmen were going to start. Now, the sophomores had walked into a Freshmen class cheer practice so I knew they had a boss class cheer. And, yes, I was jealous. I mean, so far we were still #1 in the IHOPU class cheer world because the internship wasn't technically part of school. Of course when the Freshmen do their little song and dance to start us off, the room explodes, they get a standing ovation and the cheer lady is ecstatic. FINALLY! They had come up with something that was worthy of being an IHOPU class cheer. I think every face was literally glowing, the freshmen were so happy. Then it was our turn. We did our cheer perfectly and sounded fierce but, honestly, after such an epic start, we didn't stand a chance. The upper class men got the, "Is that it?!" response so we ended big with the Freshmen again.

I remember when the Sophomores were asked to do their cheer twice. I remember when the sophomores were given a standing ovation. I remember when we were praised from the stage for having such an awesome class cheer. And as I sat through the speaker, I realized that that day was over. I knew that the "Kings and Priest" glory days were over. Sure, our cheer is awesome, but with all these new kids coming in, I know that the class cheers will simply get bigger and better until they get to be full length musicals. We'll look back and think about the current senior class and how their cheer is simply flapping their arms like "Angels in the Outfield." Last years graduating class sign was just the peace sign. And as I pondered this whole ritual called "Class Cheer" I realized that I was okay with not being known as the class with the best class cheer anymore. I'd rather be known as the class with the best attitude. I'd rather be known as the class that was the hungriest for the things of God. I'd rather be known as the class that went low to serve our classmates and faculty. Did I like having the best class cheer? Oh, absolutely! But thank God that going to IHOPU is so much more than just having the best cheer to wow everyone else at chapel once a week. It's about that reach in our hearts. I pick the deep things of God over a standing ovation.

Love,
Me
 

My Theme Songs

Dear Blog Audience,

Because I'm a musician I often think in terms of songs. The other day I wrote in my journal about how I want "I surrender all" to be my theme song right along with "Great is Thy faithfulness" and "Worth it all." The past few months I have just been in awe of God's faithfulness and how wise He is in leading me. Some of the things that I kicked against and complained about the most are now such blessings to me and have helped me grow the most. Like being single and going to IHOPU and leaving Morocco. I've had such rotten attitudes about each of those things from time to time. I told God that I would get married when I was 21. I told God I never wanted to go to college. I told God I wanted to spend the rest of my life in Morocco. I set my heart on these things and planned my life accordingly. You can imagine how upset I was when God gently took my plans and said, "No, Baylea. Not these plans."

Now I'm 23 and still single and I am so glad I've had this season of life single. Yes, I get anxious and haven't always held my heart in a way that I am proud of but God has been faithful to change my heart attitude. I am just so thankful that God has kept me hedged in and hidden away for me to get to this place of finding my joy and satisfaction in Jesus only. Sometimes I think back to where my heart used to be and my heart overflows with gratitude for the wisdom of God. He sees the whole picture and knows my seasons and my times. I really needed these past few months to get to a point where I wasn't looking to a boy or a relationship to fill me. I can't imagine what kind of marriage I would have gotten myself into if I had gotten married at the age of 21. Thank You Jesus for Your wisdom and Your faithfulness to finish the work that You start in me! As painful as it is to surrender sometimes, I know that is it so worth it. 

College was never on my radar. Not as a 10 year old. Not as a 15 year old. Not as an 18 year old or a 20 year old. I was content with my education and I didn't want to push my luck by going to college and failing. My dream was to be a wife and a mother, what kind of college could equip me for that? Sure, there were other things that I enjoyed doing such as music and writing and teaching but I didn't see any point in spending a bunch of money that I didn't have on an education that I didn't really want. So when I realized that God was leading me in the direction of IHOPU I wasn't very impressed. Until I fell in love. With my classmates, with my teachers, with God and what He was doing in the student body and with what God was doing with me through my classes. I look back on my year and half at IHOPU as one of the best seasons of my life. There has been blessing and pain, extreme growth and extreme loss but each day had mercy and grace from sunrise to sunset and I am who I am right because of everything God has done in my heart in the last 18 months. Jesus, You knew exactly what You were doing when You put me in this school. Thank You for this season of learning. It has been worth every single penny and every single hour I've put into it.

The hardest thing I've ever done was leave my home. One time that home was Wisconsin and I was leaving it for Morocco. I was an emotional wreck and it took a long time to love that place. The last time I had to leave home my home was Morocco and I was coming to Kansas City. Again, I was an emotional wreck but this time it wasn't just me crying and pouring my heart out to my journal, it was severe depression and suicidal thoughts. It was laying on the bathroom floor at 2am because I was crying so hard and I didn't want my sister to be woken up. It was trying to kill what I was feeling through anything I could find- movies, music, friends, computer, IM... Anything I could think of. Yet Jesus was so gentle. At the time it felt rough and I thought I was broken forever but I couldn't see that I was the one making it so difficult. I told God to fix my heart and then took my heart away from Him. I turned to other lovers and broken cisterns, begging them to fill me. When it didn't work I blamed God for not doing what He promised. I can't imagine how many times God held out His healing hands to me, calling me to come to Him and find rest for my weary soul and I never even heard Him because I was too busy wondering why He didn't heal my heart and drowning in an ocean of false gods. The months following my return to the states are filled with the faithfulness to God. He brought people into my life, He took things out of my life, He hemmed me in and wept with me. One time a friend was praying for me and she said, "I see you laying on your bed crying with your face to the wall and behind you is God and He's crying with you." and I knew that it wasn't just one time that God cried with me. It was every time. I didn't want to surrender Morocco. Ever. I wanted God to just fit His plans for me around the fact that I was never going to leave that country. But He didn't because He knew so much more than me. He knew I needed to go to school. He knew I needed to meet the people that are in my life now. He knew I needed to learn more about Him and more about myself. Finally I surrendered, knowing that God's faithfulness was great and it has been worth it all. 

I remember when I was 15 I realized that surrendering was a daily process. It wasn't just a one time done deal, it was a continual setting of my heart. Different things would come into my life and I'd need to give them back up to Jesus. For a while I thought that nothing else could faze me after giving up Morocco but I was wrong. There have been many times I struggled to give things back over to God but in the end, I always choose surrender because I already know that God's way is better. His faithfulness is everlasting. Nothing I can keep now will compare with what God will give me later at the end of time as a reward. One simple reason being that everything on this earth will fade away and only the Word of the Lord will remain. I want what remains, not momentary pleasures.

Jesus, I surrender all. Great is Thy faithfulness. It's worth it all. Amen.

Love,
Me

Goodbyes

Hello blogging audience,

Today I said goodbye to some precious friends of mine. At 5pm they all got on a plane and flew to the other side of the world... I hate saying goodbye.

When my family walked into their house earlier today to say goodbye one last time the first thing I noticed were the empty rooms, the last minute suitcase sitting open with things shoved into it, the bathroom scale sitting close by, waiting to weigh the last suitcase that will (hopefully) be under the right weight limit. The vacuum cleaner was out, the whole house smelled like Pine sol and... it was quiet. Immediately I was taken back to several moments in time when my house looked the same, the cleaning solutions permeated the air as we did our best to clean up the evidence that we had once lived there and there was a hush over everything. It made the pit of my stomach fill with butterflies and for a moment I felt like a 15 year old girl that was about to get on the airplane herself and fly half way around the world and start life all over again. Then I reminded myself that it wasn't us that were leaving this time. The thought was bittersweet to me.

In all of my moving, I can only remember being excited to move once and that was when I was moving back "home" and I (sort of) knew what was coming. But moving was my life. My 14 year old brother has never lived in a house longer than 2 years in his entire life. Looking back now I see such a beautiful journey but it was ugly and broken along the way and I laid down and gave up many times on that path. To a sentimental girl that doesn't like change, I  never seek change out but after doing it for so long, it's strange to not be the ones having to pack up my life into two 50 lb suitcases and say goodbye to the people in my life.

I used to mark my life by the goodbyes that I said. To my big brother, to my little sister, to my best friend, to my other best friend, to everyone I knew, to my family, to my best friend again, to the country that held my heart, to my kids, to my other kids, to the people that held my heart that were scattered across the map, to my best friend again... Goodbyes were serious business to me. They hurt but I never wanted to miss that special moment of closure with a friend where I could look them in the eye and say, "Goodbye." I remember times of tears running down my face as a friend walked away and I remember times of feeling to many emotions inside to cry. I remember times of that sweet assurance that the time apart from the person leaving was going to be short and the goodbye didn't hurt. And then I remember the agony of memorizing the face of a loved one knowing that the next time I saw them would probably a lot longer down the road and the familiar features that once marked my daily life would be changed. Yes, I said hello a lot and met some of the most spectacular people on the planet but goodbyes always followed the hellos.

One of the most amazing concepts that hit me as a teenager living the life of a nomad with my family was that God never leaves. Never. In all the different houses and cities and states and countries and continents, He always moved with me. Each time I would get a new bedroom, He was there that first night of uncertainty, holding me as I prayed that in the morning, the ache in my heart wouldn't be there.  Each moment that I was told that our time in a certain place was done, He was there, whispering, "I'm going ahead of you. I hold your times and your seasons in My hand." This became my comfort as I said goodbye more and more and left more friends and possessions behind. Now, as a young adult that is settling into the next season in one place (inshaAllah), I love to sing of the faithfulness of the Lord. I have many other reasons why but this thread of hope that wove itself throughout my teenage and young adult years is the starting point. Not one time did I ever sleep alone. Not one time did I ever step on an air plane alone. Not one time did I walk through the front door of my new house alone. I always had the God of the universe right next to me, delighting over my path and pouring out blessing on my life.

I serve a wonderful and gracious God.

Love,
Me