Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders,

The first time I heard the song, “Oceans” by Hillsong United I fell in love. It’s a truly beautiful song but have you ever really listened to the lyrics? If you don’t want to be challenged or convicted, don’t. It is full of really big prayers. 

The line that gets me the most:

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders.

Lead me, WHERE EVER. No boundaries, God. Nothing in my life is off limits. Just go for it, take me where ever. I’m game. That’s a BIG prayer. Ehh, maybe; spirit lead me where I’m slightly uncomfortable but can easily step back into my box. Where my trust is without borders? Deeper than my feet could ever wander? That’s bold. I like borders, I like boundaries, and I like parameters— at least when I’m the one that sets them. There are a lot of places I don’t want to venture and things I don’t want to experience. Like the death of a loved one, an illness. Also on the list-- places without WiFi, flush able toilets and anywhere where cockroaches are considered even slightly normal. However, I prayed that God would take me where my trust had no borders and God answered, quickly. I asked him to take me where I wouldn't take myself and now this summer I will be travelling to Honduras for a mission trip. It’s not that I’m anti mission trip—I've been on two. Both of which were inside the United States, to New Orleans and Detroit. It’s easy to step out of your comfort zone a bit and serve when you’re still within familiar boundaries. Don’t get me wrong, I was 13 and 15 when I took these trips, they were challenging. I was without my parents and the youngest on the trip in both cases. Both places were totally different cultures and environments but…. Wall-Mart was right down the street and I had electricity and hot water—the whole time.

This time around, the accommodations are described as, “semi –modern, with electricity most of the time and hot water some of the time.” I don’t speak the language and I've never been out of the country, except for Canada which, besides the fact that their milk comes in bags, it’s basically the same place. So in honor of my first mission trip out of the country, God decided to go big or go home. I’m not just going on a mission trip, I’m going as a leader for the senior high team going. God not only led me to this trip, he’s having me lead others. Granted I’m not THE leader, (then I would start to question whoever approves these things God comes up with….)

In preparation for the trip we have regular meetings. Two weeks ago, I attended a retreat with the whole team. There are about 20 people going for the elementary ministry and a team from the church attending the DR as well. They told us things like, don’t drink the water and don’t touch the stray dogs. You can’t flush the toilet paper and sometimes people get travelers diarrhea. I spent that whole session trying to control my facial expressions.  Some aspects of the trip appear really uncomfortable or awkward. The language barrier and the fact that we’re staying in a motel that ‘occasionally’ has electricity, are some examples.

However, above all of this ‘noise’- I sat around the circle and felt nothing but peace and reassurance.  I was surrounded by adults and kids who heard God’s call and listened. They took seriously their call to spread the gospel to all nations. The senior high group has eight girls. When I was in 9^th grade, I took a hair straightener to church camp and straightened my hair using the generator, so these girls really impress me. These are big commitments, financial, spiritual, emotional, and physical commitments. I am so proud to be able to sit among teenagers, children and adults who are so in love with God and are willing to make these commitments.

This trip is a little out of my comfort zone—but that’s where God works best and I can’t wait.

And, here's the song in case any of you were curious; 

Facing the unknown, not fearing it.

Four and a half years ago, I swore I never wanted to grow up. Sixteen was the perfect age. I constantly claimed I wanted to stay ‘here’ forever. Adults in my life would grimace and shake their heads, “it gets so much better.” No way, I thought. Why would I want to grow up? I could drive, I had my own car. Well, a 15 year old purple mini-van with my parents’ initials in airbrushed hearts on the front license plate. But much to my siblings dismay I had complete and total access to it. I could do basically anything but had very little responsibility and A LOT of disposable income. I had a lot of freedom but none of the adult things like mortgages and e-mail addresses that didn't have your favorite band or celebrity crush in it.

Come senior year, college decision and graduation—I was just not having this whole grown up thing. I went to college kicking and screaming. I was terrified. How can I become a fully functioning self-reliant adult? Yeah, I said I was independent but in reality my mom still did my laundry and made my doctors’ appointments. Despite having a dad for a chef, scrambled eggs and Kraft mac and cheese were about the top of my culinary abilities. I had such a strong connection to my church and community—I was constantly holding somebodies baby or eating dinner with somebodies family. I had a crammed schedule and was 100% comfortable where I was at in life. Living away from the known of my hometown was too much to think about.

However, I went to school and I managed to survive. Slow to warm up to the process, but eventually I learned to love it. It took dropping out and going back, but with 4 semesters under my belt and one underway- I can say I’ve more than adjusted. I’ve made a new home away from home. I’ve found my niche’ and I love it. We can forget that my mom still does my laundry and if it weren’t for HIPPA laws, she’d still be calling the doctor for me too. For some minor reason, like identity fraud or something else insignificant, she won’t call and pretend to be me… but that’s a different story. I still managed to not only survive but thrive. Although I suffer from the occasional homesickness, I still love college. I love the community I built. I’m surrounded by fabulous ladies that carry me through every day. I have people to stand in the gap and help me do what I cannot do. I have a fantastic church family and built a new babysitting ‘business’. I fell in love with a new town, I never new I had so much room left in my heart.

College is hard. Classes are hard. I've been challenged in so many uncomfortable ways and as a result I’ve grown into a person I never would've expected. I've failed, but I got up and I tried again. I came to terms with the fact that things don’t always go as planned. I've had to leave school and be told I would never return. I returned and proved the critics wrong. I defeated the challenges laid before me. I learned the value of working hard for my money and working hard for my education. I've proven that I cannot only attempt 45+ hour work weeks and a full course load, but kick butt doing it. I've shown myself that I can be a good student; I am not doomed to the bad student label I had adopted years ago. I have learned what it means to be a friend and have a friend. I felt the pain of betrayal. I've been faced with the decision of abandoning friendships with no new ones in sight, but made the decision anyway. I've in turn been blessed with a group of friends that I couldn't have picked out better myself.  I've discovered the value of making mistakes and the value of owning your past. I learned the importance of accepting consequences. I taught myself to be comfortable with other people disliking you and not needing a reason why. I was taught that sometimes you have to put yourself first. I've seen first-hand how it feels to do so. Somewhere along this way I grew into this adult that has a budget occasionally makes responsible decisions. Not to brag, but I'm proud of where I am.

I've written this whole new chapter in my life that never would be, had I been too scared to venture beyond the city limits. I have been faced with adversity and instead of letting it chase me in the opposite direction; I stood eye to eye with it. I realized it wasn't so big and scary after all and I simply kept walking. 

Somewhere along the way from middle school to here I blinked and all of a sudden I was classified as an adult. I used to measure being an adult by whether you have a salary and you pay your own phone bill. Somehow those requirements were waived for me, and here I am. I'm teetering between college age and full adulthood. I now stand in a spot where I’m terrified of what the future holds but I won’t let that stop me. I almost let the fear of the unknown hold me back before and

Oh, what I would've missed had I let it.

Why I deleted social media apps from my phone.

I love my iphone. I love social media. Something about it is so cool. It bridges communication that otherwise would be non-existent. I have a large extended family in many different states and I go to school two hours away from home. I think it’s amazing that I can stay connected while we’re all so far apart. However, personally it seems this connection can morph into constant communication and sometimes obsession. I've been so challenged by the idea of social media, how much it consumes my life and what the point of it really is.

At one point, I was reviewing creeping through pictures from this big event that ALL of my friends from back home went to. It looked like so much fun. I was jealous and I felt left out. Logically, I knew that I wasn't actually left out. I was even invited; it was on my end that I couldn't go. Still, there’s something about watching everyone relive the awesomeness of the night before on Facebook that strikes a chord somewhere in me. After wading through the “I miss home, I’m miserable” thoughts, I did some processing. I realized something about Facebook- mostly it seems we post to say, Look at me! my life is awesome or my life sucks. I felt convicted. Is this how people feel when they see my posts? (I mean, there is a slight chance that I’m the only crazy one who cares) Everyone who was there that night knew it was fun, so why are they still posting? Why do I post? It made me question my real reasons for social media. Is it really the age old excuse I use, “I want to keep everyone back home up to date with my life” read: I feel homesick and lonely and left out, if they like this status it means they still love me. Why am I turning to social media for reassurance when my relationships are built on so much more? Even more than that, my self-worth and assurance should be in God, and clearly at this point, it was not.

After wrestling with these ideas, I decided to make a change.  I deleted social media apps from my phone and seriously limited its use. I realized there was a major issue when I began hinging some of my self-worth in my popularity of social media. I decided to take the plunge into deleting it when I actually thought to myself, “I haven’t been getting a lot of likes lately, have people forgotten about me?” I dove  from typical technology obsessed young adult to psycho, sometimes it’s a fine line and I just crossed it.

After prayer and consideration—I decided to go for it. Of course, after posting a status about it and checking diligently how many likes I got, old habits die hard. (39, in case you were curious) So either 39 people feel the same way about their social media usage or 39 people are happy I am going to be posting less.

I tried to articulate why I felt this was so necessary and came up with 3 main points;

It’s a huge distraction. I don’t know what it is about constant stimulation but I seem to become unnervingly uncomfortable when I have to just… sit. I don’t like it one bit when I don’t have anything to distract myself (i.e my PHONE) Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with scrolling through your phone in a waiting room. I think there’s something wrong with scrolling through your phone in a waiting room, when you’re walking to class, when you’re waiting for class to start, in the bathroom, when you wake up in the morning, before bed, in between classes, in the drive thru, when your friends are talking, at meals, when you wake up in the middle of the night, the list goes on. My phone literally holds anything I could possibly want to look at online so of course it’s hard not to look at but there’s no excuse to be so attached. It distracts from my homework, class time, my friends, conversations. I need become more concerned about what is in front of me and less distracted by what is not.

It breeds negative feelings. If you tell me you've never looked at anything on face book and felt jealous or resentment towards someone, you’re lying or a much better person than I am. If you've never looked at something on social media and judged someone, again you’re a liar or you’re a much better person than I am.  Social media is our way of showing the world our highlight reel. Our awesome vacations and the adorable kids in our lives are plastered all over our walls—which I think most people want to see in moderation. Then I post pictures of my meals, screen shots of conversations, the starbucks cup with my name written on it, the sweet things my little sister said, the funny things my mom says; the list goes on. I think this is when it goes overboard—it’s just a way of showing off what I have. When people are posting pictures of the awesome things they’re doing together someone is bound to feel left out or forgotten. Social media in moderation and using it for its intended uses (So my mom knows I’m alive and so my friends can remember how hilarious I am) is completely fine but I think there’s a line between feeling connecting and showing off. It’s a fine line and I personally tend to be on the showing off side or feeling left out side. I want to fix that.

It hinders my relationships—My friends are probably more used to the back of my phone (at least my case is fabulous, right?) than my face. They’re used to me living our time together through a screen, and uploading the cutest pictures. They’re used to having the things they say quoted and tagged in a status. But 'they're used to it' is not a substitute for it being acceptable. My relationships, my real live, off line relationships should take priority. Even if I’m “checking up on friends back home” I need to put down the phone and enjoy what I have, even if it’s not always what I want. Of course I’d rather not be in class- but I’m lucky to be there and the pictures of my friends’ kids can wait. If I’m spending 3 hours facetiming people from back home, what am I missing happening in the lives of my friends’ right here, at school? Yes, I miss home like crazy but I love the people here and they’re in my lives for a reason. They deserve my attention, without my phone in my hand. My relationships deserve to be priority.

So here's to one of the most unnerving decisions I've made. I'm hoping to develop a more solid trust in myself, my relationships and most importantly my  relationship with God. 

Cheers! 

Homesick.

Tonight, I am homesick. I say that often these days as I get back into the swing of this new semester. What does it mean? What is homesickness?  According to old Mr. Webster, it’s “a longing to return home. Thanks M dubs, very specific. That, kind sir, does not do justice to how I am feeling. Homesickness certainly feels like a whole lot more than a longing. Sometimes it feels so desperately overwhelming and trapping that I may do just about ANYTHING to get in my car and make the two hour trek home, even just to meet my best friend for lunch.

Homesick feels like an inward emotional sickness for the place I call home. Not just home though, it’s still so much more than that. It’s not so much a longing for a place or for my house. That’s just a building with four walls and windows and closets and doors. To me holds nothing of value on its own. It’s not so much longing for just my hometown either. That’s just a place with streets and turns and buildings and signs. No, to me, homesickness is the when I  look around to realize I am not home, I don’t feel at home and at that moment I cannot go home.

To me, Homesickness is when I realize that home is continuing and I cannot be there. I’m home sick for the moments. The ones that are simple and aren’t recognized for how big and precious they are until they pass or until I’m not there to live them. The moments that I will miss, oh, I’m so homesick for those. You take for granted how much happens in a day, a week, a month or a year until you miss it. I’m sick for the moments where people inevitably move on with their lives because let’s face it, the world stops for no one. Life will be lived whether or not I’m at home. I miss the coffee dates I won’t have, the meals I won’t be at, the pictures that I won’t be in, the inside jokes I won’t understand.

 These things sting to think about and I’m homesick for these things. The moments I have never experienced and will never experience with people that I love. Moments are happening, life is being lived and I am removed. I am away. It’s this longing, nagging feeling that won’t go away until I am there again. It’s a longing for people. For my people. I glance around this dingy dorm room with cinder block walls and ugly carpet and I feel so far away from my people. I’m homesick for my people. I’m homesick for the laughter. For the security of knowing I’m with the ones I love and they’re all right here, experiencing life with me or around me. I want moments to be happening and life being lived with me there not here. It’s the security of knowing I can grab my keys jump in the car and be with them in a matter of minutes.

Homesickness is a longing for something that cannot be replaced or replicated by what is here. No matter how much I love the ones around me. They aren't home base, they don’t know me the same way. They aren't my people. They’re people, and they’re really great people and I love them. But I’m home sick for something that can’t be replaced by them. For someone, for many someones, that can never be replaced. For little someones, for big someones, for my someones. No matter how many framed pictures of happy memories I have. No matter how many phone calls I make. No matter how many ‘I miss you’ text messages I get. I’m home sick for something that can’t be framed, or typed in a text, or explained on a phone call. I’m homesick for my people. I’m homesick for my someones. I’m homesick and I’m sad.

What do I write about??!!

What do I write about- I started this blog about two years ago (maybe one) I don't know, I started it waaaay to long ago to only have a few posts and no consistent content or theme. I have so many ideas floating around in my head I'm constantly thinking "you know, I should start blogging again" (because I'm that narcissistic to think people want a front row seat to the crazy things floating around up there) I have all of these wonderful opinions about life, tips for college, strategies for world peace, the list is endless. But then I sit down to write and it goes something like this; "I like babies and coffee and I firmly believe. Oh screw this, I want coffee." There's nothing. Nothing comes to mind-- my insecurities about my ability to write, my laziness and that nagging pest call 'responsibilities' flood my brain. I end up deleting or never even posting what I wrote. So here I am almost two years after starting a blog, with like 20 posts, no readers, and feeling a lot of discouragement. So here's a new decision- I'm just going to write. I'm going to force myself to write about what I'm thinking. I'll write like I'm talking- because I love talking. And I'm going to post it, make myself keep it, and probably cry. So here's to sharing my thoughts and opinions online almost as much as I do in person. Welcome to my head! Cheers!

God's to-do list.

In high school, I was all over the place. By senior year I didn't even open my planner, the only time I studied was before finals, the only schedule I kept was for babysitting. I had such a fly by the seat of my pants attitude, it was a fault. I gave off a messy, uncaring attitude towards my time and others time. I was definitely a hot mess and not a good steward of my time. Time that wasn't actually mine in the first place.

Something about college changed me. Maybe it was the thousands of dollars of dollars I was handing over to the school, maybe it was the dramatic change to a competitive academic environment, maybe I had little maturing thrown in the mix. Whatever it was, I went organization, time management, to-do-list CRAZY.

It started with a detailed academic planner.

Then a detailed wall calandar.

Then a daily, weekly, and monthly to-do-list.

Then I colored coded my planner.

Then I adopted an entire new planner system, where I have almost every second of everyday mapped out.

I went overboard. I tried to schedule and color code things that can't be organized. We don't serve an organized, clean cut, color code system God. We serve an amazingly chaotic God. Who works last minute (in our limited minds).  who shows himself in sunsets, and cups of tea and babies laughs. Mini miracles, that I don't take into account on my to-dol-list.

God looks at my anal, meticulous planner and laughs. God cancels classes, and moves do dates and causes delays that mess with my little schedule and I have the audacity to believe it's not perfectly okay. 

While a level of maturity and organization is required as a college student, my prayer is that I can take it in strides. That I can stray my my time schedule if God is begging for time with me. Or better yet, I can hand over that (maybe slightly idolized) planner t the beginning of every day and say, 

"God you write my to-do list. I don't know where you're going today--but I'm going there with you." 

My prayer for the irrelevance of beauty.

There have been so many beautifully written articles about self-esteem and body image in young girls. Ones about how to talk to your daughter about her body (don’t.) and How body image starts in the family. Having dealt with an array of eating struggles and insecurities, a struggle that stays with you for long after the ‘thick of it’ has passed, this is a subject that is important to me. I decided I would add my 2 cents, take it as you will.

My goal is not for my daughter (which I don’t yet have… pretend with me) to feel beautiful all the time, my goal is for my daughter to be too busy being strong, independent, caring, prayerful and hilarious for the word beauty hold an relevance in her life. I fear that in our attempts to protect our girls fragile self esteem, we may be cushioning them too much with comfortable words and not the truth. 

Don’t tell your girls that they are perfect in every way, (news flash: they aren't) Instead, lead by example. Be imperfect in front of them . Make mistakes—laugh at your mistakes. Say sorry for them. Don’t dwell on them. Give yourself grace in your weak moments in front of your kids. It will teach them to give themselves grace in their weak moments.

The best things we can do to ensure our daughters have a healthy body image—pray for them and love them. We have very little control over what our daughters are exposed to beyond our doors. We must pray without ceasing for their minds and more importantly their hearts. Don’t pray that your daughter sees her true beauty, or never feels fat, or never struggles with eating and weight—Pray that your daughters heart is ignited with love and passion for Christ and the will he has for her. Pray that your daughter enters into her school and her activities with fierceness about her that draws attention to her inward worth, to her king. Pray that your daughter is a prayer warrior and a faithful servant of God. Pray that your daughter falls madly in love with your Jesus, and that he becomes her Jesus. Focus less on your daughter, her body and her body image—and more on the power of your God.

My prayer is for a confident, gentle, loving generation of girls who have made beauty and all of the not-so-beautiful pressure that comes with it irrelevant in their world.