Immaturity

Dear Blogging Audience,

When I was little, I struggled with feeling accepted in my immaturity. I didn't think people could really enjoy me when I was acting silly or if I made a mistake. That's just what happens in a broken and fallen world when you are surrounded by people who are broken. From the time I was little, I remember feeling this pressure to get it right or not try, be perfect or stay away. Because I thought that's how people around me perceived me, I pushed that onto God.

I went through a phase in my teenage years where I was afraid to read the bible because I didn't want to read it and not understand it. There were things I wouldn't pray about right away because I felt like I needed to figure it all out. There are times when I feel like I finally catch the hang of things and then, boom, I fall flat on my face again. "Don't look, God!" I always think as I try to figure out what the heck I did wrong. "Just a second, I'll get myself all fixed up in a minute."
 I had heard the phrase, "God hates insincerity, not immaturity." and I didn't believe it. How could He really enjoy me if I didn't understand things or figure everything out? I forget that God isn't like man. He isn't like me.

During an assignment where we focused on the Father's Heart, I spent time reading the story of the Prodigal Son. That boy was immature, no question about that, but when he came back to his father he was sincere and his father knew that. I had to really look at my heart and realize I didn't believe that. I didn't believe that God rejoiced and threw a party when I came back from feeding pigs after wasting all of His money.

I can't look a child in the eye and tell them that God is a good Father who rejoices over them if I don't believe that about myself. Sure, I believed He loved me but enjoyed me? No. I wasn't convinced. That's when I began to write down truths in my journal. "Forget what I think." I told myself. "I need to know what is really true."

It was in that time of reading verses, meditating on them and declaring them over myself that my heart began to believe truth.

"Everyday I am beautiful and accepted in my immaturity."

Children are immature. That's just how it is. But God wants us to be like them. Another thing about children is that they are sincere.  Instead of hiding myself because of something that I think is immaturity inside of me, I can embrace the fact that God is still smiling over me and that He loves my sincerity, no matter how immature it may be.

Love,
Me

Good Father

Dear Blogging Audience,

So, the Fellowship has started. When I explain the name to people I always say, "It's like the Fellowship Of The Ring except there are no hobbits." Then they understand.
I could go on about all the amazing things that I have been doing and the teaching and the girls but I wanted to write about something that God is pounding into my heart at the moment. It's about His goodness. It's about his Father's heart for me. It's about the fact that He really does have good plans for me.

At the moment I need $2,500 dollars to pay off the Fellowship and buy my plane ticket for Thailand. I need this money by the end of September. I don't know where this money is going to come from.

Oh yeah, I'm still single. I really want that upstanding young man who is supposed to be my husband to be in my life right about now.

My mom got very sick a week or so ago. She's doing better but she's still not 100%

Money for my family has been extremely tight. This summer has been difficult for me as I watched us struggle through trying to buy groceries, pay bills and say no to things because the money just isn't there.

I look at all these things and I think, "I have all these needs, there is so much that I don't have." And the lie sneaks into my thought process, "God isn't good."

When I come down to it, the main problem isn't that I don't think God isn't BIG enough to give me the money I need or provide for my family or heal my mom or bring me a husband, it's that I don't think He's GOOD enough. Sure, God has all the money in the world and is sovereign over all of creation, but does He see my weary heart as I cry out for my husband or as I worry about my mom or finances? Does He care? Does He see my tears and then go and weep because I've moved His heart?

One of the most powerful stories in my life right now is John 11 about Jesus, Lazarus, Mary and Martha. Jesus knew about Lazarus' sickness BEFORE Lazarus died. Mary and Martha sent the message and sat and waited, knowing that Jesus was their only hope of keeping their brother from dying. One day passes. Lazarus gets worse. Two day. They're not sure if their brother is going to make it. Three days. And he dies...

Overwhelming sorrow, anger, brokenness, fear, hopelessness, and confusion fill the sisters. Why didn't Jesus come? Didn't he love them? Didn't he know? Wasn't he good?

Four days of wrestling with questions and emotions and finally, Jesus comes. Martha goes out to him and she receives a theology lesson. Mary goes out to him and he weeps. Jesus saw Mary's tears, Mary's doubts and fears, Mary's burden of sorrow. Her tears moved His heart.

Right now I feel like I'm Mary and Martha in the middle of the 4 days between the time when Lazarus died and Jesus comes and brings him back to life. I've sent my message to Jesus, I know what happens to me matters to him but... where is he? Why isn't he doing anything? Is he really good?

As I have wrestled through yet-to-be-answered prayers, I have found myself being brought back into the truth that, YES! MY GOD IS GOOD!
He is a God that sees the ache in my heart and gives me joy to be my strength. He is a God that picks me up and holds me close to His Father's heart. He is a God that wrote down amazing plans and dreams for me before I was even born that go above and beyond all that I could ask or imagine.

Out of His great love for me...
Yes. My God is good.

Love,
Me

Romans 12.

Dear Blogging Audience,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love,
Me

 

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

Uncomfortable.

Dear Blogging Audience,

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

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


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

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

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

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


Love,
Me

NIKO!

Dear Blogging Audience,

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

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

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

Love,
Me

I choose joy.

Dear Blogging Audience,

So, here I am, just a few days before I graduate and I'm realizing something: I'm a whiner. I whine a lot. Maybe it's not always with my words but with my attitude, my actions, my lack of actions. Some way, some how, I show I am not satisfied and/or ungrateful for some reason or another. Why? Why, friends? Why must I think I am so high and mighty that I can look down my nose at anything? If I'm looking down at something, that means I have not gone to the lowest place. And the lowest place is where I'll find Jesus. If I am serious about finding Jesus, I need to take the lowest place seriously.

Yes, there are uncomfortable situations, there are things that really don't seem to add to life and yes, we do have different opinions and preferences. But how do I hold my heart in those times? Is it looking for a way to bless those around me? Is it resting in the knowledge that God is holding my every breath in His hand? Is it unoffended? When I am offended that means I have pride. When I whine that means I have pride. Pride is so ugly, guys.

The picture that keeps coming to mind is me, sitting in some uncomfortable situation but I'm rejoicing and happy because I've found the joy of the Lord in my circumstances. I don't mind what is going on because I have felt the love of my Father for me. I have confidence in the love my Bridegroom has for me. And I trust that justice will come to me from my Judge. I don't have to make it come. I don't have to worry about it. I can trust in the love of my Father.

The Lord is my Light and my Salvation, whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid? [Psalm 27:1]

Why do I not take this verse seriously? When I whine and complain and go on and on about not getting my own way, that is me not trusting how God leads me, where God is leading me to and His heart for me on my journey. That is me focused on temporary details that I don't remember for more than a day 95% of the time (unless I blog/journal/tweet about it). Being thankful for the little things, the big things, the in between things is a way that I show that I trust God that He really is my Light. He really is my Salvation. He really is my Stronghold. He really does have good plans for me.

When I complain and whine about something someone else did, I am saying I'm better than them. When you boil it down, it's me saying, "What you did/said wasn't good enough for me." Ugh! That ugly pride monster! Me looking down at another person made in the same Image I was made in! Me judging the thoughts and actions of others when I have no good thing apart from The Lord. Why don't I choose joy in those situations? Is my own physical discomfort in the way of rejoicing in The One that's bigger than any circumstance ever known to mankind? And then there's the fact that NO ONE can do ANYTHING to me outside of what my God has decided.

I have breath right now because the Creator God is saying to my body, "breathe." How can I be a whiner when my life is being sustained every moment by the Living God? Why do I feel like I can look down my nose at something when it is only because God is actively giving me life that keeps me alive in those moments? And that's not even the personal ways God has touched my life: I've had my body healed, I've had my heart restored, I've had my needs met and dreams become reality. I've been loved and blessed. I have people to love and bless. I have communion with the Holy Spirit and Jesus is coming back for me. For me! Oh, glory! What a beautiful thought! And I let the fact that it's hot outside steal my joy... My weak flesh. My strong pride. 

I don't know about you, but I don't want to whine. I don't enjoy whining. Especially not when others do it. I want to be found rejoicing even in the times of discomfort. I want to rejoice with others, not look down at them. I don't want my pride to say, "THIS IS MY RIGHT!" and be upset and ungrateful. So, this will be easy, right? ;) I know this is hard. But finding that joy that lights someone up from the inside out because they have an unshakable trust in God is worth going to the lowest places for. 

Love,
Me

One Day It's Gonna Happen...

Hi Blogging Audience,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love,
Me

Letting go of what I thought would happen...

Dear Blog Audience,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All is for Your Glory.

Hello Patient Blogging Audience,

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Love,
Me

2 years.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Current obsession and other thoughts on Spring Break

Dear Blog Audience,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Official Announcement

Hello Blog Audience,

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

I'm graduating.

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

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

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

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


This really is a journey.
Love,
Me

Open Doors

Dear Blog Audience,

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

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

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

Love,
Me

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

Dear Blog Audience,

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

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

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

Love,
Me

I'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

Thoughts spilling over

Dear Blogging Audience,

I'm not sure what thoughts will spill out onto this blog today, but I do know that right now, my heart feels very tender for many reasons.

In small group today, we all cried because one of us began sharing her heart and laid her struggles out before us. Her words of feeling like the wait for breakthrough would never end echoed in my own heart and I felt her pain. I'm still waiting for healing. I'm still waiting for the wrong things in my body to be made right. I'm still waiting for the day when I can testify that Jesus is greater than any sickness or disease. But beyond what she said, it was how she said it that made more sense. Her raw emotions and real feelings stirred me. I long for that expression of honest emotion in my own life in every season. Joy, strength, love, tears, brokenness, leaning... I want to be honest with how I feel and feel emotions.

The last couple weeks have been strange for me. I feel so close to God and yet I feel like everywhere I turn, someone is telling me this that or the other thing that I have to do, think or feel to really know Jesus. I've learned awesome things through it but at the same time I have to remember that when it comes to the end of the day, Jesus loves me no matter what I do or say. After one such talk with someone about "XYZ", I left the conversation thinking, "This is good, this is true, but... Just because I didn't know this before doesn't mean that I wasn't really a Christian. I still loved Jesus. I still had fellowship with the Holy Spirit. I was still loved and desired by God."
This is something I've had to remember a lot in the last few weeks. My heart has been wrestling with things because I really want to know truth. I really want to have more knowledge of Jesus and grow in my walk with Him. But at the same time, He's looking at my heart, not my head knowledge. It's the sincerity in my heart that matters to Him, not my maturity. Maturity comes with time and seasons and my current season is bringing maturity. But it's also making me cling to the truth that God delights in my journey, not just the end result of me knowing blah blah blah. He's so involved with every bit of truth I process, He sees my wrestling and hears my prayers for right understanding and He is answering those prayers. The posture of my heart is what He's looking at. Am I holding my heart with humility and desiring to know more about Him? When all this comes to an end, I'm sure I'll look back and see how every bit of knowledge I tried to retain shaping me to become more like Jesus. Every time I pray, "God, I don't understand but I really want to!", He's opening up my eyes to see better. After following Jesus for 23 years, it's a bit rough trying to add new things or shifting your interpretation of things to make room for the new stuff. I feel thrown off and I find myself sometimes trying to work the new things into formulas so I don't forget them. They're all so foreign to me yet I know they are truth.

Maybe that's why small group was so amazing today, because there was a realness and something that I could finally relate to without trying to figure it out. I know brokenness. I know waiting. I know tears. I may not fully understand what the gospel of Repentance means enough to regurgitate it or all the scriptures about the Holy Spirit, but I know that in my life, I have been broken and now I'm whole. My heart has been shattered, and it is now filled with joy. I have cried and struggled to break out of depression and now I walk in freedom. This is real for me. This is Jesus for me. My perfect shepherd, my comforter, my redeemer and my healer. Never once do I have to sit back and think, "Hmmm, let me see what this feels like for a few days." No. I already know because I've been through it and have come out on the other side and seen the goodness of the Lord! He is faithful! He is kind! He is gentle! His loving kindness never ends and His faithfulness reaches to the sky. Watching my friend cry and bare her soul was so refreshing because it reminded me of the time when I cried and bared my soul and met God there. And how I've continued to walk with the reality of who God is every day since then.

Eventually, the other things will become more than head knowledge and I'll have the deep seated conviction about them just like the people who told me about it all were. I could hear conviction in their words and I know that as I look to Jesus for revelation, that conviction will come to me too. But I don't have to make it happen. I have a journey and God loves it! He loves the freedom I am finding and is guiding me gently through each day, showing me little by little, more of who He is. I love that about Jesus.

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

It's not mine.

Dear Blog Audience,

Tonight I did one of the things that I struggle with the most: Wasting my time. Ugh. I hate that feeling of looking at the clock two hours later and realizing I did absolutely nothing of eternal value in those two hours put together except I might have drank water which is good. I guess. But honestly, why do I do it? Why do I feel like it's okay to sit on my backside in front of a computer screen reading things or playing games or searching nothingness? Sometimes it's called "free time." Sometimes it's called "being irresponsible." Either way, I hate wasting time. I love resting. I love being alone. But I hate wasting that time on fleshly desires that do not edify my spirit. Using my free time wisely has been a struggle for years. I've been convicted about it since I was 14 years old and I realized how selfishly I was living. I knew I needed to give that time to Jesus. I knew it. and here I am, 10 years later, still feeling the same conviction and the knot in the pit of my stomach because I did it. Again.
Really?
Yes. Really. I have done so well in so many areas that God has called me to give up. Unhealthy food, movies, facebook, unworshipful music, certain people and behavior... I have my moments but overall, I've done quite well and it's been a wonderful discovery that my flesh will die if I don't feed it. Except there is this one thing that keeps winning its battles with me. Time wasting.
Why do I think it's my time anyways? I'm still breathing air that God gives me and I am alive because God has continued to give me life. Why should I think that just because I've done A, B and C that I can take the next hour to waste? God is still worthy of my praise in that time. 
I sat at my piano and cried tonight because I felt so disconnected. I'd wasted so much time and I felt so foolish. The most important thing in my life is Jesus but I did not act like that today. Today it was my phone, it was some lady's blog that I wanted to read (I don't even know her but she has cute kids. I think that officially labels me as a stalker. A creepy stalker.), it was worrying about my unfavorite class. Today is gone forever and I can't change all the time I let slip past me and that thought makes my heart ache. Literally. There's nothing I dread more than having to go to sleep after a day of losing the time wasting battle. Not because I don't trust God's love for me, but because I wanted to love Jesus with all of my heart, soul, mind and strength and I didn't.
The best thing about days like these is that God still absolutely loves me, desires me and takes care of me. There isn't a single doubt in His heart as He looks at me about whether He loves me or not. He's so committed to me and leading me faithfully on this journey. I don't know what I missed out on today because I didn't steward my time but I do know that tomorrow already has new mercies in it, waiting for me to wake up and fill me with joy. That thought makes me smile.

Love,
Me