My mom has already started my siblings back to school, which feels really weird since I'm not in high school and home schooling anymore. Going downstairs in the morning and eating breakfast knowing that the 9AM rule of complete readiness doesn't apply to me anymore and watching them pull out work books is just strange. Today I sat down at the dining room table while mom did a math sheet with Anna (My 9 year old sister) and Rachel (My 7 year old sister) worked through her spelling words. Still unbathed and finishing my morning cup of chai (which I had to make with almond milk instead of soy milk, and it turned out pretty decent!), I just sat and listening to them work while debating how much I felt like showering today. Rachel had a sheet of her handwriting next to her, which was done on lined paper with a picture to color on it. Mom suggested to her that I color the picture since I didn't have school work to do, so Rachel contemplated this for a minute and then silently got up and went to her box of pencils and pens. She then approached my seat, put the paper down in front of me, and slammed down a fist full of crayons and growled, "There! MAKE YOURSELF USELESS!"
So this morning I colored a picture of Noah's ark and "made myself useless". My reward was 5 pennies, a hot pink balloon sticker, and an A+. Apparently I'm on the road to academic success and I haven't even gotten to college yet!
Friday, August 13, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
The beginning.
July 10th, 2010. Do you remember what you were doing? I do. Clearly.
It was almost 6AM, and I had already been up on the big hill behind Abi and Lily's house for half an hour. The breeze was just cold enough to be uncomfortable and the slope just steep enough to make laying down almost impossible, but either way I was content as I sat on the blue vinyl poncho that instinct has told me to bring because I knew the grass would be coated in dew. It was one thing to be cold, but to be cold with a wet butt? That would have been the worst. My team was scattered out in front of me and I said a prayer over each of them before beginning to process and pray for myself. Our time in Viile Tecii, like so many other things in my life, was coming to an end and home was so close I could see it coming around the corner. This trip, my time with these people, the summer, my time at home, my life before college . . . it was all ending. Looking ahead in my life, I felt like I was in one of those cartoons where the character is walking and all of the sudden they walk into nothing, just a big, white blank space where the animator either forgot to draw something for them or just chose to not draw anything. You know what I'm talking about? Well, luckily for me the one who animates my life never chose to stop creating a place for me and never, ever forgets about me.
The sun started to rise, as I prayed on that hill thinking, "God, what is after this? I don't know what to expect anymore. This is all coming to an end,". Just then, the sun broke over the hill and the breeze picked up, rustling the wildflowers and tall grass that surrounded my blue vinyl nest, and a voice whispered in my ear, ". . beginning,"
I thought at first this meant that my life post-Romania was beginning, but now I realize it meant so much more than that. It meant that I am beginning to really live the life Christ had planned out for me. I am beginning my life as a college student. I am beginning to continue to grow into that person I was meant to be. I am beginning to really make an impact. I am beginning to fulfill my purpose. And most of all, I am beginning to realize what an amazing, mind blowing, out of this world, powerful Creator I serve. He took a crazy, train wreck mess of a 17 year old and healed her and turned her into a missionary. He placed people her in life who spoke the things over her she always needed to hear. He sent her across the world to see her potential and realize that, just as one of her team mates prayed over her, that He makes beauty out of brokenness. He took the girl who hated herself and regretted her past and sat her on a mountain top in Viile Tecii, Romania and told her this was only the beginning. He turned her life around and made her whole.
Now, a month later, she's sitting by herself in Panera just people watching and reading her Bible. She leaves for college in a week and has been home for almost an entire month, preparing for the next phase that He is bringing. And she knows that even with the extreme challenges and lows, it's all worth it, because this is what she is here for and this is the beginning.
It was almost 6AM, and I had already been up on the big hill behind Abi and Lily's house for half an hour. The breeze was just cold enough to be uncomfortable and the slope just steep enough to make laying down almost impossible, but either way I was content as I sat on the blue vinyl poncho that instinct has told me to bring because I knew the grass would be coated in dew. It was one thing to be cold, but to be cold with a wet butt? That would have been the worst. My team was scattered out in front of me and I said a prayer over each of them before beginning to process and pray for myself. Our time in Viile Tecii, like so many other things in my life, was coming to an end and home was so close I could see it coming around the corner. This trip, my time with these people, the summer, my time at home, my life before college . . . it was all ending. Looking ahead in my life, I felt like I was in one of those cartoons where the character is walking and all of the sudden they walk into nothing, just a big, white blank space where the animator either forgot to draw something for them or just chose to not draw anything. You know what I'm talking about? Well, luckily for me the one who animates my life never chose to stop creating a place for me and never, ever forgets about me.
The sun started to rise, as I prayed on that hill thinking, "God, what is after this? I don't know what to expect anymore. This is all coming to an end,". Just then, the sun broke over the hill and the breeze picked up, rustling the wildflowers and tall grass that surrounded my blue vinyl nest, and a voice whispered in my ear, ". . beginning,"
I thought at first this meant that my life post-Romania was beginning, but now I realize it meant so much more than that. It meant that I am beginning to really live the life Christ had planned out for me. I am beginning my life as a college student. I am beginning to continue to grow into that person I was meant to be. I am beginning to really make an impact. I am beginning to fulfill my purpose. And most of all, I am beginning to realize what an amazing, mind blowing, out of this world, powerful Creator I serve. He took a crazy, train wreck mess of a 17 year old and healed her and turned her into a missionary. He placed people her in life who spoke the things over her she always needed to hear. He sent her across the world to see her potential and realize that, just as one of her team mates prayed over her, that He makes beauty out of brokenness. He took the girl who hated herself and regretted her past and sat her on a mountain top in Viile Tecii, Romania and told her this was only the beginning. He turned her life around and made her whole.
Now, a month later, she's sitting by herself in Panera just people watching and reading her Bible. She leaves for college in a week and has been home for almost an entire month, preparing for the next phase that He is bringing. And she knows that even with the extreme challenges and lows, it's all worth it, because this is what she is here for and this is the beginning.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Bullet point Saturday.
- My beautiful, fabulous friend Candace started a blog. Read it, love it, and follow it. http://candacelynne.blogspot.com/
- If you were getting a Macbook Pro, what would you name it? (Most everything I own I consider to be male, i.e. my car, my iPod, my camera, my phone. So this will be no exception.)
- Sometime after the 18th, there is a very, very good possibility I'll be seeing at least two of my team mates. No words can express how excited I am about this. Haley and I began our plotting last night.
- I've eaten so many sunflower seeds lately that I have lost a bit of feeling in my tongue and my lip was peeling last night. Sign of a bad addiction? Most likely.
- If you were getting a Macbook Pro, what would you name it? (Most everything I own I consider to be male, i.e. my car, my iPod, my camera, my phone. So this will be no exception.)
- Sometime after the 18th, there is a very, very good possibility I'll be seeing at least two of my team mates. No words can express how excited I am about this. Haley and I began our plotting last night.
- I've eaten so many sunflower seeds lately that I have lost a bit of feeling in my tongue and my lip was peeling last night. Sign of a bad addiction? Most likely.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
The Panera Paradox.
You know what the one thing I love to do more than almost anything else in the world is? Go to Panera at 7AM, eat bagels and pastries, and just talk with someone. Yes, that's right; 7AM. This is usually how I spend my Friday mornings with Charis, but since she is in Texas right now loving on some little ones for Jesus, I took my cousin on a Saturday morning and embarked on this adventure. Originally, our plan was to sit down, have our quiet times, and then discuss them after I put together this adorable encouragement note idea for my team mates. Yeah. . . it was a nice idea in theory, but once I had failed at avoiding my least favorite employee and awkwardly ordered a chocolate chip muffie* and Carrie Lee practically hid behind a wall to avoid looking like a creep while waiting on her hot chocolate. How could we NOT discuss such things? And then who can really pray and eat and read their Bible and journal all at the same time? Not me. I find it much easier to talk with my mouth full than smear powdered sugar and muffie crumbs on my Bible. So. . . we basically ended up talking the whole time and verbally processing everything we've been through in the past month, such as my trip to Romania, her trip to Canada, and the after effects of both. Sure, we didn't end up having the quiet time we planned before talking, but we still ended up discussing the same things we would have discussed anyway and we verbally processed and advised over a lot of things that needed to be covered. We talked about everything from our fantastic team mates to writing styles to our upcoming semesters as a college student and a foreign exchange student in Ireland to the ways we've seen God working through the hard things, and those were the things we needed to discuss most.
I do my best verbal processing at 7AM in Panera over pastries, bagels, and coffee. Even if I'm occasionally distracted by the cute group of old ladies meeting for breakfast or the long haired hippie who just arrived on his bike and lose my train of thought over this, I find I've had some of my best conversations over serious matters in that same corner booth by the window where the same employee always comes and closes the curtains at the same time, reaching over us and saying, "Sorry ladies," with a slight lisp. There is something so incredibly comfortable about discussing your struggles and frustrations as people shuffle past you with their food and go about their day, unaware that you've been sitting there for hours watching both the breakfast and lunch crowd come through and you long ago finished off your food but are still sitting. I usually know it's time to leave when the people around me are finished with lunch and my feet are on pins and needles from sitting so long, but it's totally worth it.
I know it's weird to go that early for no reason, but I find something really comforting in those 7AM "bagel dates" (as Charis and I call them). They are something I'll really miss once I'm at school this fall, so I might have to institute them as a Saturday morning thing with a friend at school and start a new tradition. One thing I really miss about Romania is having the time to verbally process and just discuss things, so now that I'm home I find I really crave that intimacy and vunerability in my life.
So, the moral of the story? If you ever go to Panera with me early in the morning and I order a cutesy named pastry, you're going to get your ear talked off and some sleepy feet, but you'll make my day so much brighter.
*(ASIDE: Muffies are the biggest paradox known to mankind. Well, at least for me they are. They combine the best and worst of the world: Muffin tops and cutsie names. The day I discovered that someone else in the world shared my theory of "the top of the muffin is the only part worth eating", I was exhilirated. I saw those glorious, golden muffin tops sitting on the platter in Panera, hit just so perfectly by the light so that it looked like God himself was shining a spotlight on them for me, and I immediately felt the love connection. Then, I saw the name assigned to these heavenly creations: muffie. MUFFIE?! Why would you give something as glorious as a muffin top a name that sounds like it was created for a 4th grader to nickname their friend or an animated children's show character. WHY?! Ordering such a thing made my stomach churn and skin crawl, but I knew that if I could make that word cross my lips, I would be handed the best thing I had ever eaten in my life. One painful, sugary word would equip me with golden, chocolate chippy perfection. . . This, my friends, is the definition of a paradox.)
I do my best verbal processing at 7AM in Panera over pastries, bagels, and coffee. Even if I'm occasionally distracted by the cute group of old ladies meeting for breakfast or the long haired hippie who just arrived on his bike and lose my train of thought over this, I find I've had some of my best conversations over serious matters in that same corner booth by the window where the same employee always comes and closes the curtains at the same time, reaching over us and saying, "Sorry ladies," with a slight lisp. There is something so incredibly comfortable about discussing your struggles and frustrations as people shuffle past you with their food and go about their day, unaware that you've been sitting there for hours watching both the breakfast and lunch crowd come through and you long ago finished off your food but are still sitting. I usually know it's time to leave when the people around me are finished with lunch and my feet are on pins and needles from sitting so long, but it's totally worth it.
I know it's weird to go that early for no reason, but I find something really comforting in those 7AM "bagel dates" (as Charis and I call them). They are something I'll really miss once I'm at school this fall, so I might have to institute them as a Saturday morning thing with a friend at school and start a new tradition. One thing I really miss about Romania is having the time to verbally process and just discuss things, so now that I'm home I find I really crave that intimacy and vunerability in my life.
So, the moral of the story? If you ever go to Panera with me early in the morning and I order a cutesy named pastry, you're going to get your ear talked off and some sleepy feet, but you'll make my day so much brighter.
*(ASIDE: Muffies are the biggest paradox known to mankind. Well, at least for me they are. They combine the best and worst of the world: Muffin tops and cutsie names. The day I discovered that someone else in the world shared my theory of "the top of the muffin is the only part worth eating", I was exhilirated. I saw those glorious, golden muffin tops sitting on the platter in Panera, hit just so perfectly by the light so that it looked like God himself was shining a spotlight on them for me, and I immediately felt the love connection. Then, I saw the name assigned to these heavenly creations: muffie. MUFFIE?! Why would you give something as glorious as a muffin top a name that sounds like it was created for a 4th grader to nickname their friend or an animated children's show character. WHY?! Ordering such a thing made my stomach churn and skin crawl, but I knew that if I could make that word cross my lips, I would be handed the best thing I had ever eaten in my life. One painful, sugary word would equip me with golden, chocolate chippy perfection. . . This, my friends, is the definition of a paradox.)
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Poop face.
(Real post coming soon. Last night was kind of eventful, but I'm still processing it all to be honest. For now, more whining about how I miss my Romania team. . blah, blah, blah I KNOW.)
I'm sitting here drinking raspberry green tea Crystal Light from my AIM Nalgene that has been my companion for the past month and eating sun flower seeds until my tongue hurts from the salt, and I realized how much I miss making this face with these people while having such a snack.
I'm sitting here drinking raspberry green tea Crystal Light from my AIM Nalgene that has been my companion for the past month and eating sun flower seeds until my tongue hurts from the salt, and I realized how much I miss making this face with these people while having such a snack.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Isaiah 58.
It's not really been a secret to everyone that I've had a hard time adjusting back to American life. Going from being in a tight group of nine with our every day focus being ministry and growth to being home in America where the every day life with my family is focused on getting through the day and ordering text books for my classes has not been really easy. I miss my team mates, I miss feeling useful, and I miss waking up every morning with the mind set of purpose.
Yesterday this was especially evident to me and I was really struggling with it throughout the day. I mean, don't get me wrong, yesterday was also a lot of fun and I'm not just wallowing in a pile of self pity. I went to see Toy Story 3 with Charis, Dave, and Bre and then went to Starbucks with them before making the my return to the youth group. We had a really good time just hanging out, drinking excessive amounts of caffeine, and talking about college since Dave and I are both moving in at our schools around the same time. My struggle yesterday was mostly internal.
Basically, by the time we hit youth and were going into the service, I was not in a happy emotional state. I felt very discontent and overwhelmed and all I really wanted to do was lay under a table and cry.
During worship I was really trying to hold it together, because I really didn't want to cry in front of the group on my first night back. We came to the last song, which was Revelation Song, and my mind immediately went back to the worship session my team had on one of our last days in Viile Tecii, when all of the sudden I very clearly saw a verse written in my mind, like it was on the inside of my eyelids.
"Isaiah 58". Okay.
The more I kept singing and not sitting down to read said verse, the darker and clearer the letters got, like they were being burnt into my eyes. The moment we took our seats, I pulled my Bible out and immediately turned to it, expecting that it would be something really relevant and mind blowing since I had seen it so clearly. Well, you know those little titles above the chapters? The one for Isaiah 58 was "True and False Fasting"
. . . what? Talk about irrelevant.
Determined that I was shown this chapter for a reason, I kept reading and wondering what I could actually learn from this. I had heard a plethora of stories about people being given seemingly irrelevant verses and chapters only to learn something from them after opening their mind to it. Then I hit verse 9-12.
"Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry, and He will say, 'Here I am.' If you take away the yoke from your midst, the pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness, if you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday. And the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail. And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to dwell in."
- Isaiah 58:9-12
Hidden in the middle of this chapter on fasting, God showed me the answer I needed to my discontented state of mind. Just because I'm home doesn't mean the ministry mindset and way of life ends. Being home is just the next step and another form of it. There's no reason I can't wake up every morning at home with the same outlook we had on this trip. I should be constantly seeking ways to be selfless and reaching out to those around me, even when I'm flying solo without my team in person. But I'm never completely without them, because I know they are all only a phone call away and in some cases only 2 or 3 hour drives.
My life is a mission field, not just one month out of my summer.
Yesterday this was especially evident to me and I was really struggling with it throughout the day. I mean, don't get me wrong, yesterday was also a lot of fun and I'm not just wallowing in a pile of self pity. I went to see Toy Story 3 with Charis, Dave, and Bre and then went to Starbucks with them before making the my return to the youth group. We had a really good time just hanging out, drinking excessive amounts of caffeine, and talking about college since Dave and I are both moving in at our schools around the same time. My struggle yesterday was mostly internal.
Basically, by the time we hit youth and were going into the service, I was not in a happy emotional state. I felt very discontent and overwhelmed and all I really wanted to do was lay under a table and cry.
During worship I was really trying to hold it together, because I really didn't want to cry in front of the group on my first night back. We came to the last song, which was Revelation Song, and my mind immediately went back to the worship session my team had on one of our last days in Viile Tecii, when all of the sudden I very clearly saw a verse written in my mind, like it was on the inside of my eyelids.
"Isaiah 58". Okay.
The more I kept singing and not sitting down to read said verse, the darker and clearer the letters got, like they were being burnt into my eyes. The moment we took our seats, I pulled my Bible out and immediately turned to it, expecting that it would be something really relevant and mind blowing since I had seen it so clearly. Well, you know those little titles above the chapters? The one for Isaiah 58 was "True and False Fasting"
. . . what? Talk about irrelevant.
Determined that I was shown this chapter for a reason, I kept reading and wondering what I could actually learn from this. I had heard a plethora of stories about people being given seemingly irrelevant verses and chapters only to learn something from them after opening their mind to it. Then I hit verse 9-12.
"Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer; you shall cry, and He will say, 'Here I am.' If you take away the yoke from your midst, the pointing of the finger, and speaking wickedness, if you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday. And the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail. And your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to dwell in."
- Isaiah 58:9-12
Hidden in the middle of this chapter on fasting, God showed me the answer I needed to my discontented state of mind. Just because I'm home doesn't mean the ministry mindset and way of life ends. Being home is just the next step and another form of it. There's no reason I can't wake up every morning at home with the same outlook we had on this trip. I should be constantly seeking ways to be selfless and reaching out to those around me, even when I'm flying solo without my team in person. But I'm never completely without them, because I know they are all only a phone call away and in some cases only 2 or 3 hour drives.
My life is a mission field, not just one month out of my summer.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Adventures with Charis and Remus
I've been home from Romania for 4 days now, and it seems like ages ago that I said goodbye to my teammates and shared ten minute hugs and promises of visits in the lobby of our debrief hotel. Coming home, I wasted no time in jumping back into my friends lives and surrounding myself with people. I've spent the majority of my time back with my dear friend Charis, doing everything from eating bagels in Panera to throwing pennies in a fountain at Starbucks. Today, our planned adventure was to journal shop and then plot out songs for the covers we're planning on doing in the near future. Instead, we got to embark on an adventure of a whole other sort.
After a failed attempt to swim this afternoon, we decided it was time to go home, plot some songs out, and break out the dark chocolate peanut butter I had recently purchased but yet to try. This was a treat that was obviously meant t be enjoyed on apples, and my fruit depraved self loved the idea of biting into an apple after a month with barely any fruit. But for the first time in my 17 years of existence, we had no apples in my house. Outraged, Charis and I jumped into Remus, my 12 year old beloved Jeep Cherokee, and headed off to the store in search of apples, bread, and oreos. We successfully purchased these things, put on some Ingrid Michaelson, and headed home to prepare the best afternoon snack anyone had seen in awhile.
Then we hit the intersection.
I hit the gas pedal to go through the light, and suddenly. . . nothing. No movement. Not a bit of it, even as I push the gas medal to the floor. "Oh shoot! Oh shoot shoot shoot! NO REMUS!" I shouted, desperately pushing the pedal as the car behind me honked and Charis motioned for them to go around me. But there was still nothing.
After a panicked phone call to my dad and a report in to AAA, we were on the side of the road waiting on a tow truck to pick my baby up, and my mom to come pick us up so we could sit in an air conditioned car instead of out in the 101 degree, humid North Carolina weather. Luckily, a really sweet old British man stopped and helped us push the car to the side of the road and then my neighbor offered us a ride home. Also, a pretty attractive 20 something year old stopped to see if we needed help as well. Long story short, we ended up canceling the AAA pick up, talking to a cop, and calling a local towing service before going home and finally getting to enjoy the snack we went out to purchase almost 3 hours earlier.
All in all, it was an adventure. Poor Remus is now in the shop, so I'll be driving my parents cars until he comes home, but it's really a blessing that this happened today instead of tomorrow on the highway or if I end up going on a longer trip next week by myself. Looking back on it, it was pretty funny. We took some pictures while waiting and got a song list written up and got to laugh at all the teenagers who passed by and stared at us. Overall, it was a pretty eventful day and gave us a pretty exciting story to tell while adding to my knowledge of car emergencies. At least now I know how to roll a car out of an intersection!
After a failed attempt to swim this afternoon, we decided it was time to go home, plot some songs out, and break out the dark chocolate peanut butter I had recently purchased but yet to try. This was a treat that was obviously meant t be enjoyed on apples, and my fruit depraved self loved the idea of biting into an apple after a month with barely any fruit. But for the first time in my 17 years of existence, we had no apples in my house. Outraged, Charis and I jumped into Remus, my 12 year old beloved Jeep Cherokee, and headed off to the store in search of apples, bread, and oreos. We successfully purchased these things, put on some Ingrid Michaelson, and headed home to prepare the best afternoon snack anyone had seen in awhile.
Then we hit the intersection.
I hit the gas pedal to go through the light, and suddenly. . . nothing. No movement. Not a bit of it, even as I push the gas medal to the floor. "Oh shoot! Oh shoot shoot shoot! NO REMUS!" I shouted, desperately pushing the pedal as the car behind me honked and Charis motioned for them to go around me. But there was still nothing.
After a panicked phone call to my dad and a report in to AAA, we were on the side of the road waiting on a tow truck to pick my baby up, and my mom to come pick us up so we could sit in an air conditioned car instead of out in the 101 degree, humid North Carolina weather. Luckily, a really sweet old British man stopped and helped us push the car to the side of the road and then my neighbor offered us a ride home. Also, a pretty attractive 20 something year old stopped to see if we needed help as well. Long story short, we ended up canceling the AAA pick up, talking to a cop, and calling a local towing service before going home and finally getting to enjoy the snack we went out to purchase almost 3 hours earlier.
All in all, it was an adventure. Poor Remus is now in the shop, so I'll be driving my parents cars until he comes home, but it's really a blessing that this happened today instead of tomorrow on the highway or if I end up going on a longer trip next week by myself. Looking back on it, it was pretty funny. We took some pictures while waiting and got a song list written up and got to laugh at all the teenagers who passed by and stared at us. Overall, it was a pretty eventful day and gave us a pretty exciting story to tell while adding to my knowledge of car emergencies. At least now I know how to roll a car out of an intersection!
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