Perfect.

Dear Blog Audience,

How you write about an experience that seemed absolutely perfect and untouchable by anything that might ruin it? How do you write about a time that you had been dreaming about and imagining in your mind for years? How do you write about a time that seemed to be completely removed from real life? *sigh* I've been wanting to blog about my Fessies since I got back from my trip but words haven't been coming. Just like the morning we went to pick up Derik and Jana from the airport. I tried to tweet something meaningful for 15 minutes. I ended up just giving up on tweeting and writing the moments on my heart. Not even when I was writing in my journal did I find a way to fully express what I was feeling inside. 

This trip was about so much more than Faith getting married and my birthday and Derik and Jana being in America. It was about seven kids that grew up in a country far, far away, who fell in love with each other and then later had to restart life in a place that was hopelessly lonely and void of real friends. Reunions for these friends were few and far between but talked about often and prayed for even more. Many times we grew angry at circumstances, money, and even the ocean, as they stood in the way of a longed for hug or a friend that knew us better than anyone else. There were many layers to our grief. We would work through one, make friends, make a few memories and then it would be someone's birthday and we would remember all the things we were missing. We'd work through a week of tears and angry rants of, "WHY?!?!" and then calm down and be okay again. Then someone would go through something painful and all we would want to do was run to them, hold them and cry with them and we would spend the next few days depressed and frantic, searching for any way to get to our friend. Then the person would get better and we would get better and then things would go back to "normal"...

As I stood in the airport on the morning of July 11th, hugging my friend Jana for the first time in over two years, a rush of emotions hit me and tears came. I wasn't just hugging Jana- I was getting the hug I'd been waiting for since Jana had left in October of 2009. That was the hug I had cried for, prayed for, thought about and imagined a million times. 

The entire time I was gone, I kept reminding myself that I was living an extremely rare and precious gift. I knew our time would be special but that is an understatement. As I tried to explain it to my other friends back home, I found myself realizing just how extraordinary we really are. Some of my deepest and best conversations were with a sixteen year old. There was only one boy in our group but last I checked, that didn't even faze us. We shared future dreams and past struggles and current feelings and every single one of us felt loved and accepted by each other. There was no awkward time of trying to remember what our friendship felt like; it was still there, eager to jump back into our lives and remind us of what we used to have. 

I could go on and on about the memories we made, and maybe one day I will. We laughed and loved and cried and hugged and took pictures and ate food and planned a wedding and rejoiced as we watched our beloved Faith marry the man of her dreams. But words can't really cover what this trip was for us. It was wonderful. It was beautiful. It was joyful. It was bonding. It was exciting. It was healing.

Yes. Healing. I remember the day I hugged each of those friends goodbye, not knowing when I would see them again. Each friend had been hugged with tears and a heavy heart and was followed by weeks of trying to adjust my life to be okay without them. Then, suddenly, against all odds, we found a way to be together again. My heart learned that not all dreams are too good to come true. Or maybe they are, but this one came true anyways. I learned I could hope again. I could be confident in my friendships. I was reminded that their love for me hadn't stopped, even if the emails did and that their arms were still my favorite place to be after trying to find replacements. I learned that I was okay. I had made it and come out stronger. And when we hugged goodbye again, yes, I cried, but my heart wasn't as torn because I knew that if we had made it together once, there is now always going to be a possibility for it to happen again. All my dreams of hugging my precious friends came true once. I know that it will happen many more times throughout the years. 

When my plane touched back down into Kansas City, I was hit with culture shock. Really? Yes, really. I was going from a culture of cuddle puddles and hugs and singing songs and "remember whens" and resting in the fact that my friends knew a very important part of me and loved me deeply to a place where I live at home, my friends are all precious to me, but they have yet to reach the depths of me that my Fessies have. We do sing songs but cuddle puddles are rare. At least, they are when I'm around. My "remember whens" are with my family who don't always remember. I may not have left North America, but I definitely experienced culture shock. I wasn't as prepared for it as I thought I would be, even though I saw it coming the day I bought my plane tickets. I knew I would be in heaven for the short amount of time we were all together and then it was going to suck. It was going to be painful and frustrating. I knew I would have a hard time remembering how to live without my best friends again. 

Thankfully, I have a God who is big and very, very, VERY gentle with my heart. His kindness toward me has made me great. My heart is safe under His leadership. I trust Him. This trip wasn't just a big deal to me, it was a big deal to Him. I know that as we loved each other and listened to each other and carried each other's burdens, He was smiling and rejoicing over us. We blessed His heart simply by laying down our lives for each other. God gave us this trip because He knew just how much we wanted it and because He loves to give us good gifts. Friendships are important to God because He made relationship and He has called us to love those in our lives. We love because He gave us love. We are friends because He showed us how to be the best kind of friend. What a beautiful and humble God. He's so worthy. 

Love,

Me

My Best Friend's Wedding

Dear Blogging Audience,

Have you ever watched your best friend get married to the love of their life? The couple is practically glowing and that look of adoration in their eyes is unmistakable. The emotions that come up as they say their vows and the mothers of the bride and groom tear up as they realize that their little ones are not so little anymore and are ready to commit the rest of their lives to going on a journey of love.

I got to be in my best friend's wedding this past weekend and I never knew the amount of joy and happiness my heart could feel as I watched Faith and Colin get married. My face literally began aching from smiling so much while watching the ceremony. Tears ran down my face as Colin vowed to love and honor and cherish the person I love and cherish and more tears ran down my face as Faith read her rhyming vows to the only boy who had fully conquered her heart. After the kiss and the bridal party left, I felt as if I was glowing as much as the bride was, I was so overcome with joy. We had a massive group hug in the kitchen and kept saying over and over how it was finally done.

When I was first asked to be a part of Faith's wedding, I was ecstatic! I've always loved weddings and this was going to be the 1st time I was going to be in a friend's wedding with real Bride's maidal duties. [Bride's Maidal: the word we use to describe anything the Maid of Honor and I had to do for the wedding.] I was going to have a dress and we were going to get our hair done at a salon and we were going to have pictures taken and there would be groomsmen and keeping track of Faith's things and making sure she ate and had anything she could need. I got to be in the room as the dress was pulled over her head and she was laced up in the back. I got to kneel down and fix her bustle and then look up at her, my best friend, and feel that surge of bittersweet emotions. There she was, ready to leave a part of herself behind in order to find a whole new type of love and joy.
Because they only had two friends stand up with them, I was part of the first couple that walked down the aisle to start the ceremony. I was so honored to have that opportunity to walk in, smile at the many faces I didn't really know and towards the front where I would stand, holding my flowers, and representing a million different memories from Faith's life. I knew that my friendship with Faith was going to be completely different. There are going to be many years more of memories and pictures and dances and laughs, but it's never going to be just Faith and Baylea again ever because Faith is also part of Colin. As the ceremony progressed I remembered the times Faith had held me when I cried or made me laugh til my stomach hurt or gave me a special best friend look that no one else would see. Those things will still happen but it will be different. Even so, I knew my best friend was happy and watching her become Colin's wife was one of the most amazing gifts she could have ever given me as a friend. 


There were so many little things about the day that I got to experience that no one else did and I don't want to take those things for granted. Like the dance party in the car on the way to get our hair done, watching her and Colin see each other for the first time on the wedding day, hugging her in the pictures of just the two of us, sitting in the room waiting for the ceremony to start and letting them win points in Baylea Blushing [I really didn't have a choice], our group hug after the ceremony, standing by the table while they cut the cake, singing them the song I wrote for them and Colin blowing me a kiss when I was done, watching their first dance and not being able to stop smiling.  It was such a beautiful wedding and I was thrilled to have been a part of it in so many ways. 


When we got home I didn't want to get out of my dress or take off Zach's vest or put down my flowers or wash my make-up off because I didn't want the night to be over. As the Fessies all sat in a pile on the couch we talked about how wonderful the wedding was, how beautiful I had been, how happy we were for Faith and Colin and how excited we were for the next wedding. [Which will be mine. ;)] I didn't know how amazing it would be to watch my best friend get married but now I do and it's a feeling I never want to forget.

Faith and Colin,
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for allowing me to love and support you guys in such a special way on your wedding day. Can't wait til I get to head back up to Canada!
Love,
Me

So faithful. So kind.

Hello blogging audience,

Have you ever thought that something was going to happen and you were so sure of it you set all of your hopes on it? And then it didn't happen? And then you're left with all the fragmented pieces of a promise that you thought was coming to pass and your disappointed hopes? Questions, tears, confusion, fears, frustrations, complications, back-tracking, side-tracking, emotional roller coaster and defeat deflate your balloon of dreams.

So sad. So, so sad.

At least, I should be. Right? Because I believed with all my heart that XYZ was gonna happen. I truly had it written in my journals and on my heart and in my songs and almost in my bible. But... It never happened. More than one, actually. Why didn't it happen? Was I just so wrong in hearing from the LORD? What if it was all just me anyways and my own agenda? The things are good things that I know will come to pass. One day. I just thought that "one day" was going to be... last month.

There's a song that fed my soul in the last few days of May while I struggled with the fact that X, Y and Z were all still incomplete, nonexistent, and no where to be found. The song is by Rachel Culver (don't know if she wrote it but she is just that awesome that I'm assuming that she did.)  and whenever she sings it my heart sings with her in full agreement.

The part that always gets me is the chorus that says, "You're so faithful, You're so kind." over and over again. I can't help but let my heart melt into a puddle of love for Jesus as I think about how faithful God is to my heart, my life and my calling. The last two years have been a lot about surrendering and just having to trust God that His way was perfect. I just had to trust that He was leading me in the right way as I let go of comforts and friends and family members and countries and dreams and pain and bitterness and fears and misconceptions. Now I'm seeing the fruit of the surrendering. I'm seeing the blessings and rewards that I wouldn't have gotten had I held onto the things instead of letting go and choosing God. What a wonderfully faithful, loving God!

As the month of May ended I threw up my hands and sang, "My times are in Your hands! My times are in Your hands! My times are in Your hands! I trust You! I trust You!" Even though things didn't go as I thought they would last month, I woke up on June 1st and I was bubbling with joy. IN THE MORNING! Before I even got out of bed!! And you know what, I still have that joy 8 days later. I don't know what God has planned for me but I know that as I continue to trust Him and surrender my expectations and ideas, I'll get something so much more glorious. He is bigger and wiser and able to do so much more than I can!

I don't know if my joy is contagious but if you're smiling by the end of this blog I win!

Love,
Me

P,S.

I have a daughter. She's a redhead. And she's awesome. That's all. Hahaha. ^_^ Love you, Natalee! 

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.

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

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

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

Dear Little Sisters....

Dear Little Sisters,

This post is especially for you. Why? Well, I love you. All of you. And I see part of me inside of you and I want to be the one that helps you avoid some of the most confusing things I had to go through when I was your age. Your heart is so precious and your innocence is priceless. I want to help you guard and protect them and push you higher than I am right now. Because that's what big sisters are for. 

First of all- You're beautiful. You can wear old gramma sweaters and bright purple snow pants for the rest of your life with a poodle perm and still be gorgeous. You could never touch another tube of lipstick or put on mascara again and still be attractive. Yes, part of your beauty is on the outside but honestly, it's the light inside of you that is shining so brightly that makes you stunning. Your eyes glow and your smile lights up your whole face because you're confident in the love that created the whole world. You know you have the most beautiful Man that is going to come for you and be with you forever at the end of time. And when that day comes it's not going to matter how many times you straightened your hair or wore cute dresses, it will matter if you went into your secret place and poured your love out on this Man and received His love back. When you do that, you can't help but look more beautiful on the outside because of the way you hold yourself. You have that child-like faith to fills you with so much joy. So much peace. Those things on the inside can be so obvious on the outside that people stop and stare and wonder what on earth you have. You're beautiful! I love seeing you all dressed up and taking care of what you look like on the outside because we're special and dressing with the mindset that we are important to God is a wonderful and right thing. But it's what I see coming from the inside that makes me burst with pride. I see you walking with your head held high with or without a boyfriend, with or without the latest style of shoes and clothes, with or without a wonderful family life back home, with or without the perfect this or that. You've learned that those things don't make you or if you're not there yet, you're learning. You're more than all of those things and they don't have to be what defines you. You lay down those things and listen to what all of heaven is saying about you. What God is saying about you. Even on the days when the perfect guy walks right past you after getting all dressed up and you feel like crap, even on the days when you have a fight with both of your parents, you sister and you kick your dog and you feel so angry, even on the days when people say things about you just to tear you down and you feel like the least important person in the world. Guess what.... You're His favorite one. Those times when things don't go your way He's still saying, "You are precious to me. Let me restore your heart. Let me love you." Those days are so hard! But when we take those times and run into the arms of Perfect Love, we come out even stronger. We'll find that little by little, as we grow up, there will be situations that used to frustrate or hurt us that don't anymore, because we've found an unshakable identity in the Jesus Christ, the Son of God. All the men in the world can never give us that type of security and no person, place or thing in the world could satisfy our hearts like Jesus. When that becomes your reality, you're whole world changes.
Secondly- You are strong. So strong. Don't believe me? Look at yourself. You are a beautiful, pure, full of life creation in a dying, perverse and ugly world. And you're still alive. You still believe in Love and you know that there are good plans for you. Only those that are strong can get to be your age and still believe that purity and holiness is better than pleasures of this world. There is a humility that comes with being truly strong because you know your strength is not your own. It belongs to the One who saved you from sin and death. You rest in the assurance that you can call upon that strength that is immeasurable. The same power that raised Christ from the dead is inside of you simply because of God's great love for you. (don't believe me? Read Eph. 1:17-2:10.) How humbling! How awesome! How contrary to the world's perspective to know that even when we are weak, we are strong because we have a power source that never diminishes. Ever. You show strength when you choose to walk away from temptations. You show strength when you choose to love the annoying, immature person that everyone makes fun of. You show strength when you choose the man of your dreams based on what is inside of him, not what is outside. You show strength when you dress with modesty because that's not what the world is telling you to do. You may be the only one with her body covered but you will also be the only one that guys will actually respect and want to pursue a REAL relationship with. (Unless of course you don't know any real men. Then they'll just all be scared of you because you show them that they aren't men and they're not as cool as they thought they were. If this is the case, DO NOT SETTLE!)  You show strength when you choose to live the lifestyle Jesus calls us to in the Sermon on the Mount. Fasting. Giving. Blessing our enemies. Praying. Serving. Those things take strength! Being humble takes strength! Choosing Jesus every day takes strength yet here you are, so beautiful and strong. I'm so proud to call you my little sisters. Really. 
Thirdly- You are a treasure. A jewel. Something hidden away in Jesus until the right person catches a glimpse of it or hears a rumor about it and says, "Yes! I want my life goal to be searching for this treasure and loving this treasure and having this treasure as my very own to protect and take care of." There are going to be really rough days ahead of you. For real. But this journey of waiting is one of the most precious things you can ever give that man you will one day marry. I can't wait for the day that I get to see you in your white dress, gazing up into the eyes of true love without a single regret. We'll never have a journey that is perfect, we'll all stumble at times but the whole point is to get back up, clinging to your purity and your dignity and saying, "I set my heart to wait. Again. Today. And every day until I am pursued and someone captures my heart." Right now, I am sure I'll love whoever you pick but in case someone tells you  something different or some very awful thing happens and you are stupid for a moment, these are some guidelines that I've learned in my waiting years:

1)If this man does not love and respect your family, and especially your parents, he is so not the one. 2)If this man does not love push you and challenge you spiritually to become a better person and love Jesus and others more, he is not the one.3)If this man manipulates you to get what he wants, HE IS NOT THE ONE!4)If this man does not treat you like a treasure because he's so full of himself, he's definitely not the one.5)If this man makes you do all the communicating and work in the relationship, he's not the one.6)If this man does not respect your time, he is not the one.7)If this man does not have the same heart for orphans or the nations or family or whatever your dream is that you have, he is obviously not the one.8)If this man cannot get off his butt and get a job or show responsibility, he is not the one.9)If this man is not willing to face real life but hides away from problems, he is not the one.10)If this man is disrespectful to others, he is very much not the one.

I know some of those are very obvious but really, when you're having a lonely day and someone comes up, says the right things and makes you feel better, you can close your eyes to a lot of important things. Sometimes those guys need to grow up and in a few years they'll be wonderful young men. But sometimes they don't and the last thing you need to do is wait around for a guy that may or may not become worth the wait. Take your single years to pray for God's heart for you. If you don't love yourself, you're not going to wait for someone who loves your (truly) either. When you realize the wonderfulness that is YOU that God really does love and adore and has good plans for, you'll think, "Why settle for this guy that doesn't even want to work? Why settle for that guy that doesn't listen to me when I talk? I'm worth pursuing. I'm worth being taken care of by a husband. I'm worth having a man who listens to me." I want you to get that truth inside of you. I just told you how beautiful and strong you are, but take those things and listen to what God is saying about you. He's so happy to talk to you about you because He loves you! And it's in His heart to give you a husband that will really love you as Christ loves the church. I pray that you all find husbands that you respect more than anyone else in the world (except for maybe your parents...) and that you trust so much you submit to their God given leadership over you. I pray that you'll be pursued by men who will set physical boundaries so high because he knows how precious you are and how weak human flesh is. That they won't be pushing you to lower them, but calling you to even higher expressions of purity. Let us be women that treat our male friends with respect by not flirting with them or dressing immodestly around them or talking about things that are inappropriate to talk about with guys. We don't have to play dumb and think that things don't affect them because they don't show it. We can be wise and love them well with our purity and one day, a man of God will see you doing that and think, "I want a wife that will act like that. I want her." 

Life has a way of not turning out the way we thought it would. It has a way of knocking us down harder than we were expecting and rubbing us in the dirt so we feel more shame than we ever knew was humanly possible. But the wonderful thing is that God uses brokenness to sometimes teach the most important lessons in life. Never underestimate the amount of influence you have one someone's life. You will be a big sister too one day and realize how many little eyes are watching you. You guys have pushed me to reach for Jesus so many times and I have reached this point because I knew that you were looking to me to be an example. I know I haven't been perfect but I do love you and I pray for you to know just how strong and beautiful of a treasure you truly are. 
Love,
Your big sister

Gut-wrenching sobs

Dear blog audience,

for those of you who don't know me, I'm a crier. I have no shame in my tears. If I'm upset, I cry. If I'm sad, I cry, if I'm lonely I cry, if I'm being touched by the Lord I cry, if I'm happy I cry. Sometimes it's only a couple tears and me getting choked up. Sometimes it's a longer time of tears where I need to be alone and feel what is in my heart. Rarely is it gut wrenching sobs. 

I think the first time I actually sobbed from the pit of my stomach was in 2009. The Fes Youth Group was having an all night prayer meeting and someone said something about how almost everyone in the youth group was going to be leaving. There were only two people in the room that had no plans to leave and one of them was me. I looked at the other girl and we shared a sad smile, knowing that we were the only two gonna be left and then I melted on the inside. The next thing I know, I'm covering my face as I feel my insides coming out as I sit there sobbing (loudly). My friend Derik wrapped his arms around me and I don't know how long I cried, but I think that was the first time I really let myself mourn the fact that so many important friends of mine were leaving. I had cried before and I had felt the pain before, but this was different. This shook the very core of my insides. That of course set off all the girls and soon we were all just a puddle of crying girls (And boys) as we prayed over each other. 

There were a few times that I cried like that again when we left Morocco. Most of them were by myself though. Alone on my bed, smothering my cries with my pillow. locked in the bathroom at 2am so that no one else would hear me, in an empty house laying on the floor because there was just no emotional strength to stand back up. The cries and the tears came from deep inside and I could feel the pain so strongly. It was actually physically painful in my chest. 

Well, it's been a while since I have had a session of gut-wrenching weeping. For one, I have had so much of my heart healed that the pain isn't as strong. And I find so much more comfort in Jesus. I've had tears and times of really feeling sad but nothing that touched the inside of my so deeply that the only way to let is out was to open up my emotions and cry with everything inside of me. Usually you can't plan these times either. They come because of something that someone says, does, implies... Something triggers your emotions and they just all come out. (unless you are emotionally constipated.) As you know from before, I've been emotional since school started this semester but I really haven't had anything bothering me that I felt like I just needed to cry it out. 

Someone once told me that I was very in tune with what my body was saying. Whether that is true or not, I totally missed this one. I went to service last night because I had an off night before I start babysitting for another family on Friday nights. During worship and ministry time, some friends and I began praying for each other. First it was just so that the Holy Spirit would increase, we prayed for healing for a couple of us and then the Spirit of Prophecy fell and we began to speak words of life and calling and destiny over each other. Lies were broken off, strongholds broken off, chains were broken off and we did this for an hour or so. God seemed to be highlighting one person at a time and so everyone would pray and prophesy over one person and then God would highlight the next one. I hadn't been highlighted yet and we were praying for someone else when my really good friend Kelly turned to me and said, "You are the daughter of God's joy. You are like His first born, His favorite one." from there she went on to say that it was so important that I keep interceding for the safety of the children at Village of Hope. I've never told anyone the burden in my heart for those kids and how I think about how many children in that area where they are get sexually abused and how I think about that they are now seen as orphans and not children with families to keep them safe. How protected will they be from being trafficked and sold into prostitution? The mountains where I used to live is known all the way on the Northern coast of the country for it's brothels. Those words that Kelly spoke over me, not even knowing how right on she was, made me cry. A few tears and a couple sniffles. But at the end she said, "I pray that you'll find a husband that will say to you, 'Hey, let's go on a trip and just go back and see those kids.' and that you would find a husband that would want to travel with you and take you places."

That's when the sobbing started. 

Now, I think about my husband a lot. A good portion of my day is spent praying and pondering about this man that is still a mystery to me yet already so connected to my life. I ask God about him often, just wanting to know more about this stranger whom I will marry. I am not anxious, but I am antsy. I fully trust the will of God concerning my love life (I mean, come on. He is the author of the greatest love story of all time.) but my "biological clock" is ticking. I'm excited to be a wife. I'm excited to have a family. I'm excited to fall in love with a broken and redeemed human. I want it to happen! What kind of person would I be if I didn't have the desire to be romanced? But I have my heart set on waiting for the moment that an upstanding young man talks to my father and says, "I don't want to live without your daughter." 

That being said, it surprised me how deeply the things that Kelly spoke over me went. I mean, yes, right now God has been speaking to me about a future mate but when Kelly began saying, "You're afraid this is going to happen and that your husband will be like that..." I felt something from the pit of my stomach cry out and say, "YES! I have been afraid! This is something that I was afraid of!" Sometimes lies go so deep that we don't even know they are there until someone calls them out and says, "This is a lie. This is truth. Walk in freedom." 

By the time Kelly was done, snot and tears were everywhere, my insides were trembling and I felt lighter. Sometimes when you weep so heavily, it takes time to get out of that feeling of sobriety. This time, though, I just stopped crying and was fine. Shaking, yes, but there was no turmoil in my soul. 

Sometimes I look back over my life and I wonder why God brings up certain things at certain times with certain people. For times like last night, I know it's another step closer to being a good wife that doesn't live in fear of her husband. It's another step in the right direction for a healthy marriage. How many more steps will there be? Who knows. But there will be more both before and after I get married. It's wonderful how God honors your choice to go through the journey when you fully surrender to Him. I know that learning hard lessons can be uncomfortable but I'd rather be uncomfortable than live in pride, unforgiveness, depression and lies. He uses things like people speaking truth over your heart to bring freedom to an area you didn't even know you had. He uses gut-wrenching sobs to take you into a place of deeper intimacy with Him. He uses weakness to glorify His name. It's so worth it.

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
 

Today in school...

hello blogging audience,

Today in school, the teacher brought up free-will and predestination. It threw me off because the last time I'd really heard anyone discuss the topic of whether God had ordered every single action of every single person for every single second or if God didn't know everything because He allowed us our own choices was when I was 19 years old. It also happened to be the first time I'd heard anyone bring it up. At first I was stunned. How could God not know everything? I wondered. I don't think I like this topic. So I decided to believe what I'd always believed (that God knew everything) and forget about the predestination title. I didn't search it out, I didn't want to search it out, I didn't want someone else to search it out and tell me about it, I just wanted my disrupted thoughts to be placed back on the shelves of what I believed in and left alone. And until today, that's exactly what happened.

Thankfully, I've grown quite a bit in my faith and my knowledge of the scriptures since that first day I heard my friends talking about predestination vs. free-will so I didn't freak out quite so much. In fact, during the break I was talking to my friends about it and I found it comforting that none of us really knew what to believe because there seemed to be so many scriptures that came to mind that pointed to both views. After class I drove over to the prayer room so I could be with the Lord and try to wrestle through the notes from class. Sometimes when I can't figure out what I'm feeling or thinking, I sing and I find it brings clarity a lot quicker than trying to talk. Plus in a song, my thoughts tend to lead to more thoughts that I didn't even know that I had. So that's what I did as I drove, I sang. Some of the words that came out of my mouth surprised me because not only did they answer some of the questions, they also showed me that some of the questions didn't even need to be answered. Here's a sneak peak of my journal from after class...

Jan 31st, 2012
Jono's class was very... controversial in some ways today. Talking about Predestination and Free-Will. I don't even know how it all works but I 100% believe that Jesus/Father/Holy Spirit is omniscient and knows everything. But I also know that God moves because of prayer and offers us the chance to receive mercy in place of judgment and relates to us personally in a real, loving, inside-of-time way. We have free will yet God has appointed a time and an hour for Jesus to come back in response to a generation raising up as intercessors that beckon Him to come home. Jesus was slain before the foundation of the world yet do Free-Will theists [or whatever they are called] believe that God knew Adam would sin? I can't reject either one and I think God likes it that way. I don't have to have someone explain it. I can trust my Heavenly Father. Whether He did pre-determine everything or not. His heart is for me and I trust Him. 
 ...I love that I can trust my Heavenly Father even when I don't always understand His ways or I get thrown off by man. Maybe Jono is right. Maybe no one is right. Me loving God and knowing He is worthy doesn't hinge on whether I understand everything in the bible or not. I want to understand but how can I expect to fully understand when I am so much lower than the One I am trying to know? My mind just can't even go there. Regardless, I will worship. I will set my heart to press further into the heart of God. I know it is for me. He is delighted to share Himself with me...


One of the phrases that came out of my mouth while I was singing was, "Your attributes don't contradict one another but they will offend our hearts." and that thought struck me. I realized that there are so many things about God that man tries to understand and explain and define and teach about when really, how can we know? Maybe both Predestination and Free-Will are wrong. Maybe I'm just in my own camp all by myself and don't really know what I'm doing. Whatever it is, one thing does not change: God is worthy of my praise and my adoration, even when I get offended at some of the things that I find as I seek Him out. Who is man that we can tell Him how to act and who He is? I love that He delights to show us glimpses of His character and nature and that my love for Him increases through those glimpses, but I have to keep in mind, they are only glimpses and I must not think that I know God completely because of them.

Oh, the life of a bible college student.
Love,
Me

Discombobulated

Dear Blog Audience,

Today was tough. The last couple days I've cried a lot. Not in bad ways, but usually when I get overly emotional it's because I'm really tired or fasting and... I wasn't fasting. School has started and while I love the schedule and how easy it is, my body is having a hard time acclimating to being on the run again. Last night I forgot to set my alarm to wake up at 5 instead of 7 because I had to be at the prayer room at 6 so I woke up at 7. What could I do? There was nothing I could do. Thankfully the first week of school never has sign in for prayer room hours but I still wanted to honor the fact that I did commit to going to the prayer room at that time. I got there in time for the 8am set (which I always love) but I was so discombobulated that I didn't even hug Laura Hackett when she said good morning to me. I find that I use the word "discombobulated" a lot more since I started going to IHOPU. 


[Discombobulate
to confuse or disconcert; upset; frustrate: The speaker wascompletely discombobulated by the hecklers.]

I am still very excited about this coming semester though. I know that each class and each teacher were hand picked for me. I know that each person on my worship team was hand picked for me. I spent a lot of time over Christmas break praying that I would be able to love and serve my classmates and those in authority over me. I prayed for my teachers and my worship team. I didn't want school to start again and have a bad attitude about this that and the other thing. I wanted my heart to be ready to love the freshman and the upper-class men and the faculty of my school whether I was disappointed with a class or so excited that I was doing the happy dance. I'm a worship leader this semester which means I have the responsibility of being an example and leading other students not just during our worship sets but in all of our school requirements. I want the freshmen on my team to see me in the prayer room engaging with the Lord and not just sitting in the back on my phone or talking to a friend in the hallway. I want to set my heart to do my best in my classes so I can encourage others to do the same. It's really important to me to be faithful with the small things that God has put in my life right now because one day I want be in Thailand with a husband and 16 kids and a team of people who are there to establish a house of night and day prayer. I will need the grace of God to walk out each day but that is one of the dreams in my heart. Nations. Family. Prayer. Mmm, I want to be faithful now so that God will take me there later.

The month of January is almost gone and this baffles me because I feel like it was just yesterday that I was in the single digits of the month and now I only have one more week left. This is probably the first time in a long time that I am excited to move forward. I'm not one to want time to rush by (unless I know something amazing is coming up, like, moving back home.) so this is new to me. Of course there are things I am looking forward to, like one of my favorite people ever, Krista Bowman, coming to visit me in February and my sister having her baby in June but this is more than that. At the beginning of the year when I was asking God about the year 2012 He told me that this year is going to be a year of fulfilled promises. Just writing that out makes me excited! Even in the mundane and the tiredness and the tears there is an expectancy in my heart. On the good days and bad days, my spirit is alert and waiting for the promises to pass. What will it look like? I don't know except that I know that they will look a lot better than what I imagine. I know that because the bible tells me so. :)

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