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

Pain.

Hello Blogging Audience,

I've been planning on writing this afternoon for a while. This past week was busy with a two week training course I am taking and this afternoon is the first break in a very fast paced schedule since last Sunday. I was so excited, I was going to blog all about this, that and the other thing that God spoke to me about. And then today actually happened...

Guys, my body hurts so much right now. My left knee is swollen, my hands hurt, my hips are in excruciating pain while walking, my feet have been swelling and even my ankles were complaining as I walked to class [at 7:30] this morning. Why? Probably a combination of things. Tired, stressed, ate too much fruit, walked to class and back every day.

In just 6 days I'm supposed to be on a plane flying to my best friend to help her get married to her best friend. I've been waiting for this for months and now it's just around the corner and I'm laying here on my bed unable to stop this pain. Right now I don't want to think about flying or suitcases or traveling, I just want to sleep. I know my body well enough to know that by next Friday I'll feel like a new person and be walking 6 inches off of the ground from excitement as I get on that air plane and fly to the west coast. But when I'm feeling so old and crippled and trapped, it's hard to imagine that, even if just a few days ago I felt 90% fine.

I'm not writing this in a complaining manner, I'm trying to just give a little picture into what my life is like some days. I lay on my bed, usually with my computer, ask God for healing and try to find a way to distract myself from the pain and not have a pity party.

When I was younger, my mom's cousin [whom I lovingly refer to as my "aunt"] sent me a birthday card and inside of it told me that she had seen Arthritis turn so many people angry and bitter and she was glad that it hadn't affected me like that. I often think of that card when I feel like giving into whining and sulking and trying to say how unfair it is. All that does is cripple my emotions like my body is crippled.

Some friends of mine used to call me "Sunshine." I loved it. I love being a positive, smiling face in someone's life, being able to brighten their day simply because I refused to give into self-pity. I get to laugh and smile and enjoy little things because I'm not letting this pain rule my emotions. It's not my joy that I have on the inside, my joy is so weak and fragile, quickly lost in the cares and disappointments of this world. No, the joy that I carry on the inside comes with knowing that no matter what, I am Jesus' favorite. Pain or no pain, He adores me in ways I don't even know exist. Because of that, I can smile. I can be known as "Sunshine." Yes, a girl with a chronic illness can be full of joy and completely satisfied, because whether you are sick in your body or you are healthy your whole life, no one is truly satisfied outside of Jesus.

I have Jesus, therefore, I have joy.

Love,
Me

Letting go of what I thought would happen...

Dear Blog Audience,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2 years.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Best Friend. All of them.

Dear Blogging audience,

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

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

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

Love,
Me

Gut-wrenching sobs

Dear blog audience,

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

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

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

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

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

That's when the sobbing started. 

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

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

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

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

Love,

Me

Goodbyes

Hello blogging audience,

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

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

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

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

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

I serve a wonderful and gracious God.

Love,
Me