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

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

Pregnant Teenagers.

Dear Blog Audience,

I happened to find a Lifetime movie on youtube Wednesday night while I was babysitting and passing time while the kids were asleep. It was called, "The Pregnancy Pact" and it was based on these teenage girls in high school that all promised to get pregnant with their friend. It was hard to watch because of the whole abstinence vs. let's just give them birth control and the "they're going to do it anyways, let's just try to keep babies from coming from this." type of stance. I know this is the mind set of most of the western world. I was very glad that abortion was not a main message in the film. But what I got out of it (besides an overwhelming desire to be a mother again) was the loneliness all of those teenagers had. All the emptiness and constant striving to fill those deep wells within us that cry to be filled. All four of those girls wanted to have babies because, I believe, they thought that being a mom would fulfill them. So far, they had come up empty from each endeavor to fill their hearts. No boy or family or school or friend or party or experience had filled them. But a baby.... A baby loves unconditionally! A baby wouldn't care if they finished school or not! A baby would be the perfect thing to fill their empty holes.

The movie showed one girl struggling to take care of her baby. The main character, however, seemed to turn into a wonderful mom but she realized the weight of her actions when she caused her family humiliation and lost her boyfriend, the father of her baby. There was so much drama. So many hurt people hurting other people who tried to fix the problems but just ended up hurting even more.

At first I was like, "My goodness, American teenagers are so messed up these days!" But then I realized, I had had those same aches and longings and loneliness. I can't tell you how many times as a teenager and even as a young adult I tried to fill the void with entertainment, guys, friends, circumstances, fantasies etc. The only difference between me and those four girls is that Jesus hedged me in and protected me. He gave me parents that gave me boundaries and friends that also embraced purity. For me, I wasn't surrounded by people who were "doing it", I was in a group of friends that all joined the, "I'm waiting for wild, passionate, awkward, honey-moon sex" group on facebook. If not for those factors, I am very certain that I, too, could have been a teenage mother who was still just as empty and still just as hurting as she had been before she had her baby.

I got done watching it and as I thought about how it made me feel I just started thanking God for His mercy that led me to a place in my life where I consciously realized that Jesus really does satisfy and that He WAS satisfying my heart. No husband, child, house, country, friend, job, title or amount of money can ever match this feeling of confidence that I have in my Father to fill these deep wells inside of my heart. Even as a Christian teenager, I was empty because I was looking for something to fill me that had nothing in and of itself to give me. Only when I went to the Source of all things, did I find what I needed. Unless you find that Fountain of Living Water, you'll always get thirsty again.

If you guys are wondering where watching movies on youtube fit into my movie fast.... they don't. And I've been realizing how I've been feeding my flesh more. It's not that I have to give up movies. I really really really want to! I want to spend this year undistracted by the entertainment of this world. I really desire that. However, I'm realizing I need more grace. I'm willing to struggle through this because in the end, it's going to be worth it.

Love,
Me

Current obsession and other thoughts on Spring Break

Dear Blog Audience,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Open Doors

Dear Blog Audience,

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

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

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

Love,
Me

"The Next Generation Is Coming Through Us."

Hello Blogging Audience,

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

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

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

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

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

Jesus, show me how. Amen.

Love,
Me

What "I love you" sounds like

Dear Blog Audience,

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

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

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

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

Love,

Me

$100 for a temper tantrum

Dear Blog Audience,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love,
Me

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

Discombobulated

Dear Blog Audience,

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


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

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

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

Love,
Me

The Mom School

Hello blog audience,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love,
Me