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

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

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.

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

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

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