Confessions of a Pastor's Wife

I've finally figured out what's wrong with me.  (I have a feeling 2014 will be a very productive year...)

I'm simply afraid of being human.  I'm terrified of my own skin, of the thoughts that loom inside my head, of the feelings that shoot through my veins with no warning, of the words I'm capable of saying, and the promises I'm capable of breaking.  I'm overwhelmed at the thought of letting someone down, of having people over for dinner and not having them happy 100% of the time, of forgetting to do something at work, of not recognizing a social need in a public area and leaving it un-addressed, of not singing perfect harmonies on the worship team.

From birth until 22 I've been weird.  Well, birth until now, but I've gotten a little better at hiding it unless you're close to me.  The funny thing is though is that for those 22 years I knew it, but didn't care.  At the age of 13 I was smack in the middle of my thriving duct-tap making career and I wore overalls.  Let's face it, I wasn't exactly your prime popular material.  But I had friends (or angels in disguise??), a healthy relationship with my parents, and a growing love for God.  I by no means was perfect, but didn't seem to be affected by that realization. It never crossed my mind that I could even possibly be perfect.

What happened around the age of 22 I'll never know (unless someone's offering free therapy?) but it's like everything I had been taking in for my entire life started affecting me.  The thoughts and opinions of others were top priority, and I was slowly catering to everyone else's needs and wants.  It's as though as I hit my early twenties puberty hit, and I just felt awkward.

Now I'm 27, happily married, and a pastor's wife in Point Pleasant, NJ.  The stress heightens to new levels... not only do I belong to a new church where there are new relationships to be formed, but there are still old friendships to be maintained, new expectations to be met, and the closest Starbucks is 15 minutes away.  I literally (yes, literally) think at times I might explode. I was supposed to move far far away to Africa where it was easy to not fit in; not Point Pleasant where it seems like a natural fit.

We are currently on the last day of our vacation after being gone a week at a lake house by ourselves.  It has been the best week ever... I've been able to breathe, think, and not be stressed.  But the sad part is that I'm actually scared to go home.  I legitimately feel nervous about being around humans again.  Some might say I need medication, and part of me wants it too.

"Your grace abounds in deepest waters

Your sovereign hand will be my guide

Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me

You've never failed, and You won't start now"*

But ya see, I think I figured out what happened at the age of 22:  I became an adult, and everything started to depend on me.  The opinions of others towards me was my burden to bear.  The faith I had in Christ and how I lived it out depended on me.  And while those things are true, I never took into account that at some point, I will fail.  I just figured after 22 years of living I had a good handle on it.  And so now, being the great pastor's wife I am, I start to doubt my sincerity as a Christian.  The battle isn't a new one that I've fought, but it seems to get harder every time.  Doubt has always been my "kryptonite" (because I'm superwoman.  duh.) 

We're all in a battle, but the uniqueness of it lies in this:  We are in constant training for the very battle in which we fight.  God has this way of using us where we're at to fight, but to also train us for what's coming.  Look, at 22 I thought I was ready for battle.  All the opinions I'd heard, sermons I'd soaked up, and stories I'd read created this person in me... this "warrior" if you will.  But little did I realize that God wasn't finished.  He wasn't expecting this perfect follower to lead the masses.  He simply just wanted me to stay in the fight, use what I knew, and grow to fight differently as I learned more.  Everyone else is doing the same thing.  

People change, people make mistakes, and they grow.  We even make mistakes while we try to fix them... it's just all part of the battle.  

So what's my confession?  Well, quite frankly I never wanted to be a pastor's wife.  I thought it would be boring, confining, and squelching.  Little did I know that God could place a weirdo like me in one of the most loving and gracious communities I'd ever come to know.  And while it's overwhelming, I'm so grateful God doesn't always give us what we want.  I'm so grateful He continues to teach me as I work through my doubt of myself and my unrealistic doubt of His promises to me,  

 Because 

                  "Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me

You've never failed, and You won't start now"*

*song by Hillsong United, "Oceans"

"It's Not Personal, It's Life"

This one's a quickie, but hit me like a ton of bricks.

Today Noah and I were talking about a situation that I'm struggling with.  You see, I have this problem that if there's a glitch in life I automatically think it's this ultimate test.  And, if I don't pass, I'll never get to see the other side.  I'm fairly certain I'm not the only one out there like this, but if I am, I'm expecting 2,000 comments following this post on how to fix this. 

After the venting and tears finally subsided, Noah responds as such:

"Did you ever think that it's not about you? {ha. thanks babe} 

That it's nothing personal, it's just life?"   

I was offended for a second...or seconds.... because I think sometimes trial feels better when it IS personal.  When you know God is up there looking down on you and watching until you get it right.  It's like the light at the end of the tunnel, and when you get there then you know you'll be rewarded.  But to think that this "problem" I'm going through may just be a part of life in general?  Well, gee.  That sucks.  That means that no matter how hard I try, I won't know if I'm any closer to my end goal.  But then I'm reminded of this hymn:

My goal is God Himself, not joy, nor peace, 

Nor even blessing, but Himself, my God;

'Tis His to lead me there- not mine- but His, 

At any cost, dear Lord, by any road

I've been telling myself all day "At some point my words must be tested by my actions", and all day I've been feeling stressed.  Trying to convince myself to have a happy heart 100%  of the time.  But last time I checked, Jesus isn't asking us to always be happy.  He does, however, ask us to trust him, and THAT I do.  Because at the end of the day, my goal isn't this goal I have in my head.  My goal is Christ Himself. 

...Then I Got Married. (Don't worry. This isn't a mushy love blog)

I remember when I was learning how to be disciplined with my money I came to the realization that I thought in order to appreciate something I liked I had to own it.  I wanted others to see that I appreciated good things.  In other words, possession = the highest form of appreciation and good taste. 

I think that transferred into real life and people.  I see people I admire, respect, and like.  I want to be like them.  But much like adding lots of material things into my life makes me broke, so did adding lots of personalities to myself makes me tired.  Constantly thinking how I wanted to be portrayed to others left my brain fried and my insides screaming insecurity.  

Then I got married.  

Planning weddings has changed a lot over the years.  "Out of the box" weddings used to be unacceptable, whereas now they're expected.  DIY used to be "eh" and affordable, but now viewed as beautiful and sometimes more expensive (plus more work).  Weddings have become a little girl's dream turned into a big girl's Pinterest contest.  It's chaos (at least in my world). I'm so glad Noah and I took 4 months to plan our wedding.  I needed the 4 months to be somewhat organized (let's be honest... even if I had 2 YEARS I'd never be organized).  But the shortness of time didn't allow for a ton of extras.  I continually reminded myself that the day was about marrying the man God gave me as my better half, not to win a Pinterest award. 

The wedding came and went and I thought it was the best day ever.  That was until I realized that the foggy & damp weather stripped all the curl and hard work out of my hair that my amazing friend Karol styled.  (I never once looked in a mirror on my wedding day).  And until I let myself go on Pinterest after the wedding and saw all the cute ideas I could've done. For a few weeks, nay, months, I had to not think about the wedding because of what it was doing to my emotions.  I think riDICulous best describes this scenario, but I couldn't help it.  Then I had to make a photobook of the wedding for my mom for Christmas.  I was forced to look at hundreds of pictures of me with straight hair (which is pretty obvious by now that it's my biggest vanity) and layouts of a gazebo in which I could have had pom poms.  The amount of conviction I felt over this pride in my heart was overwhelming.  But as I sat there looking at those pictures, I realized something else (something I really already knew): I was so unbelievably happy in all the pictures.  And you can't fake that.  

Just for the record, this post isn't about anti-pinterest or anti-DIY weddings.  It isn't about if you hate what the weather does to your hair on your wedding day then you'll have a great day.  

What it IS about is this: 

The decision that I made on that day was what it was all about: marrying Noah.  All the extra details were, well just that- extra details.  The extra clothes that I buy to show other people what good taste I have is extra.... but the decisions I make every day about loving God and people are what really matter.  The extras aren't necessarily bad, but when they get in the way of making good, healthy decisions and enjoying those decisions, then I think they become bad.  

This lesson has transferred into SO many areas of my life.  When I find myself comparing what I don't have among others, I simply remind myself that WHO I am is exactly who I need to be right now.  Why? Because God doesn't make mistakes.  WE do.  We fill our lives with expectations and promises to others of who can be.  Don't get me wrong... none of us are perfect.  I will never stop trying to better the bad things about myself and learning from others that I respect and admire.  But I will stop trying to look like them.  How you and I display kindness will look different, because we are different people.  And that's GOOD!  My wedding will look different than so-and-so's because we're different... yay! 

One time I told my dad I was surprised by the kind of car he drove because it wasn't "him".  While I don't remember the exact wording, I will never forget the look on his face as he responded with something along these lines:

 "The day I let a car define who I am will be the day that I need to do some serious re-thinking about my life".  

Something I've started telling myself when I'm in a store and I'm being tempted to buy something is: "This will not change my life or the world.  I don't need it".  And as silly and dramatic as it is, that reminder that this article of clothing or accessory that I can't afford is really to impress someone else is enough for me.  Why? Because I've realized that I can better love people when I'm not so busy trying to be other people.  

Appreciate life.  Appreciate what others have.  But more importantly, appreciate the body, heart, and life God has given YOU.  Don't let things define you.  It's an age old lesson, but still just as true.  It's a continual battle everyday as I remind myself that I am who and where I am for a reason, and it doesn't matter what anyone else has or does.  Appreciate what's around you, but don't always feel the need to put it on.  Constantly try to improve the bads about you, but never cease to rely on His grace and intentionality in making you who you are.   

  

Milk and a 1040 form, please?

There is nothing worse than needing something.

Well, there's nothing worse than needing something you can't get yourself.

A lot of times the kids will ask me for something (ie, a glass of milk) and I'll say "Yeah, just wait a second" because I'm in the middle of helping another one. Typically, I forget about the milk only to reminded by a not so gentle tug on the shirt and long, drawn out whine of "Meeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllll. Can I pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease have some milk?" In the midst of the chaos it's easy to get annoyed until I remember that unless I get this for them, they will not have it. And if they try, they will probably make a mess or hurt themselves. Both are fixable things, but never the less just better if I get it.

There are a lot of things in life that we grow out needing help with. Getting a glass of milk, for example. Hopefully, at some point, you are completely capable of doing that yourself. (hopefully).

But then there are other things, like figuring out my taxes, that I'll ALWAYS need help with. Maybe this is a personal example ... :)

In all seriousness, though, there are just certain battles in life that will never go away. One being this:

I will always need Jesus.

Never before has this been so obvious as of late. And, to be honest, it's kind of frustrating. It's crippling to know I need Him to save me, but I guess that's the point. What's the point in having a savior if you don't need saving? It's frustrating too because no other relationship that I've known or currently have is like the one I have with Him. It's genuinely a struggle to even type what I'm about to say next because I think it's still hard for me to accept...but that doesn't make it any less true:
No matter how much I screw up, He still loves me. He still forgives me. He still wants me.

It hurts to know this. It hurts to know that I abuse Him. I want Him to throw me away to give me what I deserve... But He doesn't. He doesn't give us what we deserve. He may let us deal with consequences to decisions that we've made, but even in that His grace helps us through it. I want Him to tell me "enough is enough, Mel. You've sinned one too many times". But He doesn't....

We will never be able to do this thing called "life" on our own. Ever. And while all of my body fights my soul to try and convince it that it can, my soul is strengthened by the One who has it.

I need Him. You need Him. I don't know how people live without Jesus... there's no point. Without His help I'm worthless. And we don't grow out of needing Him. The more I try to do it on my own, the more I spill and the more I hurt myself...and others. You'd think that after 25 years of knowing Jesus I'd know this inside and out, but, well, apparently I don't.

It takes a large blow to the pride to know I can't save myself. And typing that out makes me realize how utterly ridiculous it is to think that I can. No more ridiculous, though, than a 2 yr old trying to do their taxes.

Chutes & Ladders

I absolutely hate the game Chutes and Ladders. It's annoying, ridiculous, and the worst way to teach a 3 year old patience. Unfortunately, the kids I sit for love it, and think it's hilarious that I get mad.

The other day I was cleaning up a few toys with the youngest 2 of the 4 kids I watch. The youngest (Nicholas) is 18 mo; the other (Mark) is almost 4. The scenario went something like this:

Me: Nicholas, let's put the blocks away please.
N starts putting the blocks in the wrong tub
Mark: Mel! Nicholas is putting them in the wrong box!
Me: It's ok Mark... we just need to teach Nicholas how to clean up first. We can move the blocks to the right box when he's not looking.

I love working with children. I love their quirks, and how they are constantly learning and discovering the world around them. I love their laughs and their "tired eyes". I also love how God weaves these visual pictures of his character through their lives.

I often suffer from self-inflicted guilt trips that if I don't make the right decisions or treat people with a genuine and perfect love, everything will fall apart. Aside from that being a ridiculous thought, it's also an incredibly conceited and prideful idea. The funny thing, though, is that I never thought about it as a haughty thing... which just goes to show that by nature we are prideful. Different topic though.

The point of all of this is to say something very simple: God's big enough to handle my best efforts. This goes into so many details of life- my job, my aspirations, my friendships, my worship, my prayers, my thoughts, my actions, and much more. It's often quoted that God will not give you more than you can handle. That is often piggybacked with a witty comeback of "well, God must think I can handle a lot". No, not really. Again, it spins it back on us...that we're the ones that can handle it. I know this off-hand comment is meant to make light of a situation, but it often follows that when we say something enough, we tend to believe it.

I just finished reading an article on Relevant's website entitled "5 Keys for Making Big Life Decisions" (written by Adam & Christine Jeske), and this one sentence stuck out to me over everything else:

"Let’s knock out the basics first: God knows you, loves you a lot and wants to lead you."

I'm absolutely TERRIFIED of making the wrong decisions. But as I watched the interaction between these 2 young brothers, I realized that I don't trust God. Maybe it's not an intentional distrust, but it's still there. I don't trust Him to handle my mistakes; my best efforts.

As I learn how to really love people, how to not judge people, how to encourage a friend, how to make life decisions, how to be a responsible adult, etc, I need to trust that God is big enough to fix my mistakes. Now, this isn't to excuse the things that I do understand: If Mark (4) were to put the blocks away in a completely wrong box, I'd say: Mark, you know better. Please put them back where they belong. (you can see where I'm going with this.)

The article ends with this, and I can't help but post it:

St. Augustine put it simply: “Love God and do as you please.” Make your decisions with God-given sense, with an honest goal to pursue Him and “commit to the Lord whatever you do and your plans will succeed” (Proverbs 16:3). God’s in the business of redeeming even our worst choices, and every highway has off-ramps to other choices.

I'm realizing life is a little bit like Chutes and Ladders. Fortunately I like my life better than the board game... but the idea is that we roll the dice, make decisions, and roll with the punches. As the article suggests, there are decision-making times and waiting times. But no matter where we are, if we feel like we are slipping down the ladder, or trying our best to put blocks back where they belong, God loves us. He is on our side, and as long as we are wanting to love Him, I don't believe that any mistake will keep us from Him.

Actually, He promises it won't (Rom 8.37-39).
He's big enough.

running for my life

(fair warning: this is a semi-scattered blog. hang in there.)

I was talking to my sister the other morning and told her how I've been noticing lately that I'm mortal (typing that out makes me realize the ridiculousness of that statement). She responded with: "Good! Now you won't want to jump out of planes and do stuff like that"
To which I quickly said "No, no... I'm just more aware of what I'm doing."

And it hit me.

I feel as though the last 25 years of my life I've been meandering through this walk of following Jesus, and not really understanding what it means. I think we forget how mortal our souls are. Let me change that thought: I never knew my soul was mortal.

It's a different kind of morality, though. Not the sort of morality one thinks of when someone dies. But we can indeed let our souls die.

So, over the last year and a half I've started running. No, not from anything. I get Runners World magazine in the mail once a month and I like to try on sneakers that I think will help my performance. It's also an excuse to buy more clothes... special "running clothes" (yes, marketing and clever advertising really does work). If you've known me for a little while, though, you'll know running isn't my forte. My friends in college actually used to ask me to run when they wanted a good laugh... apparently I run funny. Which explains some of the reasons why I've never run before.
Needless to say I got over my fear of looking stupid, and began realizing all the other people that run funny.... yet still run. So I guess maybe I didn't get over my personal fear, but realized it wasn't such a big deal after all. Into Sports Authority I went, bought some Saucony's, and hit the ground running. Now here it is, many months later, and I'm signed up for a half-marathon.
I've never regretted anything so much in my life. All of the sudden running for fun just became training so I don't die... and I think I've run 4 times since signing up a month ago.

I've wanted to jump out of a plane for years now, but have never even given a second thought to running a marathon... or even a half marathon. Do you know why I did it though? Because it was free. I got a coupon via email that said if I'm one of the first 20 people to sign up, I get to run 13.1 miles for free (because completely normal people pay $85 to do this). Well, I just can't say no to a bargain. So now, instead of "falling with style" out of the sky, I'm "running with not so much style" on the ground.

A long time ago I realized that this world is kind of pointless on its own. If you take everything at face-value, it's not worth much. We've just decided they are... and I can't live like that. I can't live in that game... and I'm glad I don't have to. I was introduced to the Truth that there really is more than meets the eye, and thus my relationship with Jesus Christ began.

A lot of people begin a relationship with Jesus. It's free for everybody, so that's usually a cool incentive. And it gets you out of hell... possibly an even better incentive.

"All athletes are disciplined in their training. They do it to win a prize that will fade away, but we do it for an eternal prize. So I run with purpose in every step. I am not just shadowboxing. I discipline my body like an athlete, training it to do what it should."
1 Cor. 9:25-26

Truth is, I can sign up for as many marathons as I want and read Runners World as much as I can. I know I need to run about once every 2 weeks and do yoga a few times to maintain the form of a runner. But when September 10th comes and I put on my number ticket and start running, I'm not going to get very far.

This life I'm living isn't just to jump out of airplanes. That's why people create bucket lists... we all know that those things aren't what life is about, but we feel the need to do them anyway (and that's another conversation in and of itself). Over the past few months, I'm feeling...a lot. I'm feeling the anger of injustice, the sorrow of a hurting friend, the joys of a celebrating couple, and the hopelessness of a broken soul. These feelings are not personally drawn to surface from my own being. I know whence they come from, and I can guarantee you it's not from the conjures of my heart. But it's as if Jesus is saying: Following me is not on your bucket list.

Following Jesus is more than a free sign-up for the first 20 people who are too cheap to buy in. It's more than reading Relevant magazine and writing blogs about Him. It's more than maintaining an attitude of kindness only when speaking to people. Our bodies fade. Our ideas fizzle. Our souls are what carries on to the next stage of life... and if we're not careful, we could reach the end of our life and wonder when we let our souls become so weak that they cannot stand to worship our Creator.

We all go through rough spots. Running has taught me that. Some days are just not great running days, and that's ok. Some days I run longer, and I get excited... and then some days a mile is like running 205,000 miles. But either through walking/running, I finish. And some days I bail, quit, and regret it. But tomorrow is always a new day.

I speak not of the rough spots. I've learned by now that perfection in any area is absurd. But one thing I refuse to give into is the idea that you don't need to do anything to keep your soul alive. I need love. Lots of love. And no, not from you. I need love from Jesus...which I have. And it's through that love that I'm able to act, think, move, and be in a way that keeps my soul beating.

Following Jesus isn't always fun. Sometimes it is... sometimes you run by a breathtaking sunset that makes you wonder if you're not dreaming. Sometimes you run with a friend who encourages you to push yourself a little harder, all the while sticking by your side.

But sometimes you're running in the cold, bitter rain, with no one beside you. It feels lonely, and impossible to finish. You think to yourself "Is this worth it? Will it really affect anybody if I bail?" In the world of running, probably not. But in the running I speak of... well, I'll let you to talk that over with Jesus.

I leave you with this:

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.
And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us".
Heb. 12:1

Maybe we're not as alone as we thought.

This isn't as depressing as it sounds.

We are shells. Skin, hair, nails, legs, bones. We are made of dust. We are created, and eventually we decay as we return to the dust from which we were originally formed.

This blog has been a long one in the making.

Over the past 6 months 2 people in my family have passed away. My grandfather first, and then most recently my great-uncle. Over the past 24 years of my life, only one other person that I have known well has passed on, and it happened when I was much younger.

The death of my grandfather hit me hard. He was an integral part of our family. He and my grandmother played a large part in my life- taking us to Disney World, the countless stays at their house in Long Island, Thanksgiving dinners, the playtimes, and the list goes on. He was a Navy man who loved to laugh, loved crumb cake, loved his family, and loved His Lord. His passing wasn't sudden; his body started to "shut down" (as we say) about ten years ago after a stroke. His speech was minimum, he couldn't see very well, his coordination was mismatched, and there was little (towards the end) that he could do by myself. My amazing grandmother stuck by his side every second... the love they shared is another story in and of itself. But if you don't believe in true love, well, you haven't met my grandparents.

The death of my great uncle was slightly more sudden, but only in comparison to my grandfather. Uncle Ralph suffered from physical ailments for years, but within the last few months was hospitalized and given his final days. He and his family were able to give their goodbyes and share their last earthly moments together. My Uncle leaves such positive memories in my head- he and my Aunt Mary came to Thanksgiving at our house every year. He always smelled of cigars and had the most beautiful, deep singing voice a man could have. Christ was at his center, and His love spewed into every relationship. His love for music and laughter attracted many to him, and his presence, along with Pop-pop's, will be greatly missed here on this earth.

As I have been trying to process these deaths, it hasn't been easy. Especially after the most recent. My grandfather didn't have an open casket. But at my Uncles, there were a few seconds where I saw him lying there. As I sit here typing this, I'll never forget the shock and almost surreal feelings that encompassed me as my eyes locked on his face. The open casket caught me by surprise, and I could barely hold contact with the face before me for much longer than 10 seconds before breaking into heart-wrenching sobs. And oddly enough, it's not out of pure sadness.

We are just shells, and I've never realized that more than I did in that moment. If I think about it too long, it actually starts to freak me out a little bit. I kind of feel like pulling at my skin to get inside to where I really am. It's beyond my comprehension to understand how it happens, but my uncle is not the person that I saw in the coffin. It was the packaging. The soul of who he was still remains; his soul is home.

The rest of the funeral was surreal. Standing next to my grandmother (my uncle's one and only sibling) as she's holding my hand and singing hymns about God's faithfulness and the hope of tomorrow. The same grandmother that just lost her husband 5 months ago. As me and my brother made our way home my mind was still spinning. Typically I think death forces us to rethink what we place our faith in. I place my faith in the fact the Jesus Christ has offered salvation to every one of us while we are here on earth, and what we do with that offer determines what happens when we pass on. And I know, more than ever, that my faith is still in Christ alone. My faith is not my crutch. It's not something I'm hoping is right. My faith has nothing to do with me, but everything to do with Him. Staring in that coffin caused me to remember that last time I checked, I didn't create myself, and I certainly won't know what to do with myself when I die. This life is not the end-all; it's only the beginning. This is the packaging stage... Handle the contents with care.

Please go away from reading this blog post (if you've made it this far) knowing that you are much more than an empty shell. You are more than what you see. What I see. We are comprised of a soul that is begging to be freed from its shell...and one day it will be. Don't focus so much on the shell. Don't place all your efforts into what decays back into dust.

Rejoice in the fact that we will not always be limited by our skin and bones, and that we are MUCH more than a physical make-up.

"Look, we didn't know"

I've tried at least 10 times to begin writing this blog, and yet no sentence has been able to stick. I keep trying to grip my reader with an intense or informative formation of words so that you might finish reading my post.
My heart so badly want everyone in the world today to understand the torture and injustice that is happening as I type these words. By the time I get finished writing this, 10 children will have entered child slavery.

I can still remember learning about slavery in school. Learning about the injustice between races and social groups that, for hundreds of years, caused certain people to suffer for reasons that hold no value. I remember wondering that if I were born in that time period, would I have fought against slavery, or would I have accepted it as the norm?
And then I can recall learning about the people who stood up for Truth and dedicated their life, their time, and their resources to doing whatever they could to abolish slavery...and it took more than a day. It took more than a few weeks. But it took.

Slavery was abolished...or so we thought.

Over the last couple decades, slavery has taken a much deeper route. It is not confined by color, race, ethnicity, or social class. It has no respect for age or self-worth. But then, when has it ever?
It is found world-wide, including our America, "Land of the Free". Every year, 14,500-17,500 children are trafficked into the United States ALONE (humantrafficking.org). These children are most often forced into the sex trade, where they are forced to service up to 20 clients a day. The most wanted age-range are girls between 12-17 years old.

If your stomach isn't sick yet, there's something wrong.

I will post some links to a few sites that will connect you to more stats and information. But please don't forget that these numbers are made up of faces. That they are not merely statistics on a page, but hundreds and thousands of souls and beating hearts that have been robbed, not only of their childhood, but of their entire life.

Today is Human Trafficking Awareness Day. It is an overwhelming issue, and I find myself (quite often) freaking out because I want to save every child and adult, yet I don't know where to start. Start by learning. Empower yourself so that you may empower others. Raise money. Find a walk to raise awareness and invite friends.

Be aware, and Do what you can.

"Don't excuse yourself by saying, "Look, we didn't know." (prov. 24:12)

http://www.sctnow.org/
http://www.unicef.org/protection/index_exploitation.html
http://abcnews.go.com/US/domestic-sex-trafficking-increasing-united-states/story?id=10557194
http://www.childrenofthenight.org/?gclid=CMWzg-67sqYCFRVx5Qod5029pQ
http://www.humantrafficking.org/countries/united_states_of_america

Christmas lights & a stolen heart

It's the afternoon of my 4th full day home. Upon arrival to the US, life has picked up exactly where it left off: sheer chaos. I sit in my popisson chair in the corner of my room and can't even see the floor... laundry hasn't even begun, gifts for people are still in their bags, and my bag is only seemingly unpacked b/c its half poured-out. Yet I sit here, writing, because I cannot get Rwanda out of my head.

Or my heart.

Jim Elliot once said "Wherever you are, be all there." How hard it is to be somewhere when you want to be somewhere else. I knew going on this trip would have an impact on me, but I didn't know to what extent. And I sure didn't think my experiences would have an impact on my Christmas decorating.

Since being home I have jumped right into some joyous events: a best friend's wedding and Thanksgiving, followed by a day of Christmas decorating (today) with my roommate. But as adrenaline crashes and emotions surge, I'm finding it harder and harder to muster a cheery and festive disposition. My thoughts are being enveloped by the people and country I have left just a few days ago.

It's so weird to have a place that's so far away feel so much like home. I know I don't look like I fit in, but it felt like I did. For one of the first times in a long time I felt a different sort of peace. The comfort of where I am right now is one of God's "you're being obedient and you're where you need to be." The assurance while I was there was more of a "this is what I was made for". And to leave that, well, it feels like you left your soul and your heart. Simply, it hurts.

To pick out one special moment from the limited 8 days I was there is absurd. To hone in on one beautiful child that changed me is out of the question. To even ask me to express one favorite thing about the country itself is silly. There is simply no way to narrow down the amount of physical, emotional, and cultural experiences I had in Rwanda to a top 3 list.

Throughout the experiences combined, though, I came to one conclusion: My personal purpose in this life is to come alongside those who have lost hope and help strengthen them through who Jesus Christ has made me to be. To never cease seeing people the way God does; to see people as loved and cherished and created with intentionality and a purpose beyond what our limited view can capture.

There are the questions I left Rwanda with, and oddly enough I have peace with all these questions. I know the questions will lead me somewhere. I know they are God-inspired because they are not overwhelming, but rather hopeful. The questions give me a hope that I am moving somewhere; I just have to pick up my feet and walk despite not knowing all the answers.

Rwanda has stolen my heart, and I hope one day to go back and retrieve it. But until then, I must learn how to "be all here" while walking into the unknown and trusting God will grab my hand and lead me onto the road He's marked out for me.

Hair Extensions, A Yellow Fever Card & 1 Pair of shoes.

In approximately 22 hours I will be leaving one continent with 9 other friends and traveling to another. I have no idea what to expect, nor any basis on which to compare the coming experience to. I know Spanish and understand Pesos; I do not understand Kinyarwanda nor how to calculate the value of a Franc...Francs.... I can't even properly use it in a sentence.
I have tried my best to prepare as well as possible for this trip. I did indeed get hair extensions to be able to put my hair in a ponytail everyday. I had 4 shots put into my arm to make me stand strong against Yellow Fever, Typhoid, Hep A, and Polio. I have Milaria pills to take, and Cipro for that "just in case" scenario.

It's strange to prepare so strategically and intentionally for a place where people live on a daily basis and probably don't use anything that is mandatory for me to have.

I decided to not bring any curling irons, blow dryers or makeup. I am bringing one pair of shoes and a few shirts and pants. How big of me, I know. I'm not meaning for it to sound like that; I'm just looking for as few distractions as possible. I live in America, so I act American, but I'd really rather not. I am genuinely looking forward to not only not knowing what to expect, but also to living simply. I am, quite frankly, not disciplined enough to do it here in the States. My ADD kicks in, and I just excited about everything... and I mean, EVERYthing. Coffee, clothes, running stuff, planners, journals, books, yarn, buttons, bows, mugs, food, etc etc etc! It's crazy. Being constantly surrounded by such materialistically pretty things is kryptonite for someone like me.

I'm beyond excited to find a beauty expressed in people, life, and culture that I cannot find at the Cherry Hill Mall. I am anxious to meet the natives and make a fool of myself because I don't understand their culture. I am curious to hear their stories and to know what their "bubble" consists of.

I know I am where I am for a reason. I really do. I have never had such peace about what I'm doing and where I am. I know God has called me, as well as every believer, to share His Love, and I'm trying my best to do it wherever I am. And I know that when, or if, the time comes that God nudges me in the direction of moving overseas, that it will be timely and right. But for now I have these 10 days, and I am desperate for them.

I have a funny feeling that this trip to Rwanda will go by too fast. I'm pretty sure that the people will help me more than I will help them. And I'm almost positive I will want to stay. But no matter what the outcome, the trip is happening for a reason, and the most I can expect is to serve.

I need more than I have.

As Juliana Theory so well puts it, we're all just a shell of a man. Empty. Full of really nothing good.

Tonight I had an experience that made me realize that nothing good of myself is of me. When I'm pushed to the end of my rope, my natural reaction isn't love. And when your natural reaction isn't love, well then I think it's safe to assume the love you display isn't natural.

Love spans a multitude of actions: patience, faithfulness, caring, selflessness, goodness, etc. So when I say "love", please know I mean many things.

Throughout our lives, individually and corporately, I think a main purpose might very well be to have love become as natural as humanly possible. To have love not become merely a reactive feeling, but a state of being.

You can be sympathetic, and not love. You can be empathetic, and not love. Even worse, you can say you love, and not even touch the reality of what the word entails.

I am empty. You are empty. And I fear we will stay empty until we allow Love to fill our very souls.

Do not let your love become a reaction; let your love be your beating heart and ever-rising and falling lungs. Allow the One who is Love to love through you.

I need more than I have, because I alone have nothing. But He, He has, and is, everything.

always here, never there.

So, if you're anything like me, you hate the question "how are you?" I don't so much hate the question, actually, but I hate the question because of the response.

following? good.

I was asked by a friend tonight (whom I hadn't seen in a while) how I was doing, and as I started to respond, my answer was shaped something like this:

"I'm good... really good. Nothings new, and usually that would bother me, but it doesn't right now because I know I'm where I need to be".

Why is it that when things are the same it appears that life is bad? You ask someone how life is going and the response "Oh, you know, just working, doing the same thing, blah blah..." brings about a sense of lazy contentment, not commended commitment. Lack of excitement perhaps? yes. But doesn't it seem that we condemn the art of committing and living a sturdy life at the same time?

I don't even know who I am right now writing this, honestly. I feel like these words are SO contrary to my nature... MY nature. Not God's.

I believe in seasons, and I don't just mean autumn and spring. I write this to encourage those of you who are putting your hand to the plow and living out the daily duty of the ordinary (as Oswald Chambers would say). I'm there, and I'm not always fond of being there. I'd rather be traveling and "seeing the world". But there is value in staying still.

What's the point in seeing the world if you can't see whats right in front of you? How can you understand the bigness around you without first understanding the foundation on which it is contingent upon?

Again, I believe in seasons. I know that God allows seasons of staying still and moving. Of floating and of being structured. But I'm trying to not look forward to moving too much, and focus on how to live where I AM, not where I WILL be. Because like my dad always says...

"you're never there, you're always here. Because by the time you're there, you're here".

bubbleless

There are approximately 143-210 million orphans worldwide (according to UNICEF stats). In America alone, there are 700.000 - 2 million homeless people.

These are the 'bubbleless' among us. The ones who do not have the comfort and confines of a "safe place", and experience daily the bumping of our bubbles into their lives. These children and adults do not have the privilege that many of us who are blessed with bubbles do.

See, it's hitting me that we are merely millions of bubbles all within one huge one. We have limitations, and therefore are within the confines of something greater than ourselves. We are flesh living in bubbles that exist in a much, MUCH greater spiritual world. One that we cannot even comprehend most of the time. Why is it that when we look into the eyes of a woman or man sitting on the side of the street, helpless and begging, that it pierces our very soul? What about their situation affects our hearts so much that we have to look away? Does giving a dollar or whatever change that's lying around really cure the panging in our hearts, or does it merely numb the pain enough so that we can convince ourselves that we've done our part...

I write this with more conviction in my soul than anything. I've been struggling with this concept for weeks, because if lived, it will change the way my bubble looks and feels, and I like it the way it is. I help, I do things... but it just isn't the same.

"Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you" -James 1:27

Religion has become a dirty word, but its original intent is not at all what it has been made to be. The way of Jesus and following Him is to take care of those who don't have bubbles. In other words, those who get pushed to the side (by our bubbles) every day, who get charity thrown at them, but no [real]care offered. Not even the decency of a place of their own to stay and hide. They sit on the streets and are forced to expose their lives in front of everyone... there's really no option.

Then there's me, in all my bubble glory. I've always wondered why I've had a "lucky" life. It's not luck... I know I have been blessed by God, and I've struggled with why I have and not others. It doesn't seem fair... but I think I'm learning. I'm learning that what's NOT fair is that I am blessed with this life, and I don't go on to share.

"To whom much is given, much is required"

Luke 12:48

I need to care more, and I don't mean just a feeling. True caring leads to action. Just as faith without deeds is dead, so is giving without love.

"Cure without care makes us preoccupied with quick changes, impatient and unwilling to share each other's burden. And so cure can often become offending instead of liberating"

Henri Nouwen

I see an image in my head of a person reaching out from their bubble to a person who is bubbleless. The bubbleless sense an excitement of being invited in, but instead the person who is inside their bubble hands them a dollar bill, and quickly pulls their hand back inside to their safety zone. Often times the blessed assume its enough to give of their resources, when really we need to offer a place of comfort and love.

Work with me here:

Imagine yourself sitting inside of a bubble. Just do it. There? OK, now look outside that bubble... you're bound to notice something strange. Well, perhaps not so strange, because it's actually something quite familiar: you.

I mentioned in my last blog how a lot of times things look different from the confines of our own bubbles, and a large part of that is because when we are in "our worlds" we can't move past ourselves. When we go to look outside our worlds we still are inclined to see only ourselves because that's what happens when we refuse to let our bubbles merge or, better yet, pop. The more merging of bubble worlds we do, the more reflections appear. The more reflections that appear, the more points of view and "others thinking" emerges. The more "others thinking" that emerges, the more unselfishness is produced. And the more unselfishness produced, well, the more love explodes.

My friend was talking tonight about how over the years she has begun looking at people differently. When we were younger it was so easy to say "oh, i like him or her" (platonic speaking) while now it's so much more complicated. I think it's because we've gotten into this mindset of discovering ourselves, which is all fine and dandy until we begin to see only ourselves when we look at others. Think about it... we sit in our bubbles all day and when we bump into another bubble something funny happens. We peer out as best we can to see who's inside, but all the while blocked by our own reflection and insecurities. I read this the other day...

"But underneath all our emphasis on successful action, many of us suffer from a deep-seated, low self-esteem and are walking around with the constant fear that someday someone will unmask the illusion and show that we are not as smart, as good, or as lovable as the world was made to believe... this corroding fear for the discovery of our weaknesses prevents community and creative sharing... and so, when our actions have become more an expression of fear than of inner freedom, we easily become the prisoners of our self-created illusions. "

Henri Nouwen

These bubble worlds can soon become a prison of our "self-created illusions" that skew and distort the way life could be if we shared our insecurities and creativeness with each other. It begins one person at a time. One merging of a life with another. Obviously the greatest of merges is marriage. The two becoming one, and constantly giving of each other's "world" for the other, so much that there are not 2 worlds anymore, but one larger one that encompasses both the individuals. You make room for each other.

We need to make room for each other in our lives. We need to allow more room for more reflections to be seen. More ideas to be known. More lives to be loved. Aren't you tired of looking at yourself all the time?

I am.

bumper cars and bubbles

Today was one of those days when, while driving, everyone was ticking me off. That's not extremely uncommon, being as I am among those "jersey drivers". But today was slightly different. It was as if everyone around me was purposely cutting me off, going slow, or just driving stupid. Even while trying to food shop I kept thinking to myself : "THIS IS NOT BUMPER CARS".

yeah, one of those.

So, as I was food shopping, my mind kept leaping back to my "bubble thoughts", as I affectionately call them now. I realized I was getting so frustrated when someone was just bending over in the aisle... the whoooole aisle mind you... and not aware I was trying to get by. I suppose its not that big of a deal, but after 3 aisles with people blocking? Well, that was just annoying. Yes, I'm well aware of my impatient temperament at this point. (Side note? never food shop when you're starving and cranky. Especially when you're cranky from hunger.) So as I'm trying to get myself to breathe as though I'm in labor, it dawns on me that I've fallen into a certain bubble syndrome that I have spent so much time condemning in my own thoughts. That of- "I'M trying to do something, and YOU'RE in my way". When we plan our days and actions, we don't really account for the woman blocking the aisle, or the car cutting us off, or the cashier lady who doesn't really know what she's doing. I guess it's unrealistic to be able to plan for them specifically, but I think that there's got to be a way to plan generally.

I love the Hillsong song that has this chorus:

"In my life, be lifted high

In our world, be lifted high

In our love, be lifted high"

The progression is that of as we grow spiritually... in MY life to OUR world, to OUR love.

When we let people into our lives, it's going to feel uncomfortable. Just as when you blow a balloon and begin to make it bigger, the walls get thinner, the pressure is evident. So it is in our lives when we make adjustments for others to join our personal bubbles.

I have a phrase I use a lot that I kind of stole from a 5 year old. "In my world... _____ (fill in the blank)". In my personal world rules are different than yours. But when we begin to care for people genuinely and let them into our worlds, the rules conflict and tensions rise, mainly because we have to learn to let a lot of our rules go. I am annoyed by that person because she's preventing me from doing what I had planned on doing in a timely manner.

suck it up.

I need to let my bubble grow, deal with the growing pains, let her inside my world for as long as she needs to be there, and let life take it's course. The resistance to growth will cause more pain in the end than the flexibility to allow your bubble to increase in patience and size.

"In my world" suddenly becomes "In our world"... and that, I believe, leads to Love.

There is no better proof of love, of all kinds, than to adjust for the needs of others. It's setting aside our personal rules and regulations to make room for someone else...and someone else...and someone else...

And remember, your view of the world is often distorted from the confines of your bubble. The imagery is skewed and the sizes vary. Some people's worlds are very small still, while others have started expanding. Some don't even realize they have a bubble at all.

beee.

I write this blog while sitting in Mexico City, Mexico. It's amazing how a place so far away and so different from your own natural environment can spur on a presence of peace and relaxation. Especially considering it'e one of the largest cities in the world... not exactly prime for getting some "quiet time". But, alas, I have found my zone and have checked out from my bubble... or rather, maybe I've checked in.

I'm really understanding how important it is to have a constant sense of "chillness" to our daily routine. It's incredible to me how busy we can keep ourselves in America, or anywhere for that matter...I guess it's just more common and easier in a society that constantly pushes us to keep moving. But while we're moving so fast, our brains hardly have the capacity to keep up and we end up losing so many of our good ideas and desires to the thought of working more and being more productive- and this doesn't only apply to work.

I'm not really sure why I'm posting this blog right now... but I just feel so free. My brain has finally had a chance to catch up, and I'm feeling sane. I know I use working as an escape from thinking.. it's about the only thing that distracts me enough from my thoughts.

For the first time I'm truely understanding who I am, and being okay with that. I'm just a normal girl that makes mistakes. I'm finally grasping the fact that I've made mistakes, and it's ok. That I can't do everything perfect the first time, and that's ok. That failure is natural...and, shocker, ok.

You, whoever you may be that is reading this, are created intentionally and awesomely. (I love that word.. awesome. It's dated, I know. I don't care). But a lot of times we lose who we are by what we surround ourselves with... choose wisely what you choose to do with your time. Invest in things you care about, veg out with friends you love, surround yourself with people and things that inspire you.

As the genie from Aladdin would say: "Just beeee yourself". Relax, and allow yourself the freedom to be who you are.

crumblin' walls

I have been overwhelmed lately by the quality of people that are in my life. I guess I haven't stayed around anywhere long enough, or have been old enough to appreciate, the kind of friendships I've come to accumulate over the years. These last few months have been incredibly eyeopening for me to see the goods and bads of myself; things I've never known to exist. Through all this, though, my friendships have gotten stronger... or I am just more aware of how grateful I am to have friends that deal with my quirks.

I guess that's the thing though. We all have so many quirks. And sometimes I think it's healthy to recognize them, but other times I wish we didn't know ourselves so much... When we see the quirks we don't like, we can try to "fake it" and it can sometimes end us leading to be people we aren't and should never be. Our quirks are what make us US and the people that know them and still stick around are the ones that become our closest friends. There are six people I can think of who have seen me at my worst and best throughout the last 3 years, and I know I can consider them my closest friends...

This whole sticking around in one place thing is starting to freak me out. I'm getting ancy, and I'm wanting to pull away... but I can't. I'd actually miss people for more than a month. Sure I'd move on, but I have never had the support and love from friends that I have right now.

It's just getting that wall....that freakin' thick wall that is taking years to crumble... to finally crash down. I'm seeing over the top, and it scares me, but yet exciting too. True friendships require investing, being there, and being unselfish. I have a lot to work on. I'm just grateful for the amazing examples of true friends in my life to lead the way.

every little thing is gonna be allright.

I'm realizing now more than ever how much i don't do, or even do, because of what other people think. It's scary, actually, the stuff that I hold back from. Decisions for little everday things to pretty monumental choices are constantly being battled in my head. I look at every decision from every point of view, and no matter what I decide to do, I disappoint somebody.
I'm almost 24 years old, and I'm finally realizing how crucial it is to get control of this issue, or I will lose my life to other people's thoughts.
How narcassistic as well is this? That I would think other people are scrutinizing my life so closley...it's sickening to my stomach actually to realize that this is who I'm on the road to becoming. But I can stop it.
Little changes, here and there. Soon little changes produce big changes.
I like who I am, and I'd like to embrace it. There's just one person who I need to try and please, and even He doesn't ask much of me. Just love Him and others. He'll take it from there.

I want to write this as an encouragment mainly... It's never too late to change. We're constantly on the path to becoming who we will be, and as long as we're open to scrutinize our little bubbles and accept changes, I think every little thing is gonna be allright.
(humming.)

the beginning of a very long journey

It's obvious that we don't have much choice in who we are born to, adopted by, or how we are raised. Yet the way we are brought up in this world (our influences, family life, religious beliefs, etc) determines much of our outlook on life. But that's not to say its the sole factor. You can observe many families who raise children the same exact way and yet each child grows up to live life differently from the rest. So what does that elude to?

We have, as individual people, personality traits. (You can thank me for that shocking and not obvious thought later.) These traits lead us in life; they become our nemeses and our strengths, our motives and regrets, and the reasons why people love you and, quite possibly, hate you. From birth they reveal themselves. There's the logical 5 year old, or the 3 year old who can sing on pitch. There's the baby that's prone to dominate over its twin... which brings me to the point of this.

Isaac, son of Abraham, bore two sons: Jacob and Esau. Genesis 25:22-27 says:

"But the 2 children struggled with each other in her [Rebekah's] womb....The Lord told her, 'The sons in your womb will become to nations. From the very beginning, the two nations will be rivals... and your older son will serve your younger son'...As the boys grew up, Esau became a skillful hunter. He was an outdoorsman, but Jacob had a quiet temperament, preferring to stay at home".

On my journey to discover the balance between predestination and freewill as a believer in Jesus Christ, I am hit with this thought (which is subject to change):

Who we are and how we are brought into the world is planned.

The things in life we will have to struggle with and the things that will be easy to overcome are no surprise to the Creator, because He intentionally created it to be as such. It's how we choose to react to ourselves and what we're given that is our choice.

I'm well aware that it seems easier for some to believe in God. I don't understand why, but I believe that God may present himself more vividly and clearly to some and others. As far as Biblical examples go, take Paul. Who can argue with a blinding light and an audible voice from heaven? Yet there are some of us who beg for a whisper and are lucky to get that. I think that the ones Jesus calls in such a grand manner serve as an encouragement to those who are begging for that whisper. This is another conversation though, and work calls.

bubbles pt. 2?

I'm back on bubbles. I can't help it. They just visually explain life so well for me...

So, I was thinking this morning how there are so many people we see everyday, yet have no memory of or with whom we have no interaction. And that got me thinking about bubbles. I'm sure this analogy could work with various amounts of things, but apparently I'm partial to the magic of bubbles. I guess that's the 5 year old in me.

anyway.

There are so many people around us and we're so disconnected, yet we impact each other's worlds all of the time. Our bubbles may never meld into one, and we may never even blend bubbles for a little bit and then tear apart, but we affect each other. Think about when bubbles float. If I am floating here, you can't. If your bubble is growing in size, you are inevetibly taking up space that I may have desired to be. So even though we have no personal relationship, you just existing and living life in your bubble is affecting mine. Like I said earlier, this illustration can be demonstrated by many other objects, but there is something unique about this demonstration with bubbles: we can connect. Your bubble may be preventing me from being somewhere by myself, but that's not to say I cannot join in your world. It's just that do we want to? I don't know about you, but melding bubbles for me is not always the easiest of things. In some ways it is, in the fun ways. The sharing of stories, hobbies, interests, but not when it gets down to the nitty gritty situations. Not when being part of your bubble requires me to be there for you when life gets hard, or when you need to borrow money because things in your world aren't going as well. That's when sometimes we feel like our bubbles are popping and we're losing control. Which we are, because we've chosen to let someone else into our world, and we've in turn stepped into theirs.

Staying in your own bubble is possible. It's probably the most convenient and easy actually. But while you feel like you're in control, you're actually the one being bumped around by the other bubbles joining. I hope this is making sense. I wish I could show a video, but I'll stick for hoping this is not just rambling.

It's a risk to join bubbles and worlds. But without this risk you choose to live being bumped around by other people. They're essentially controlling where you can and cannot be. But to be apart of something, apart of a bigger world, to invite people into your life, and to learn how to genuinely care for other people... well, I think that sounds kind of nice.