Friday, July 30, 2010

You Were Meant To Change The World

"Here's to the crazy ones.
The misfits. The rebels.
The troublemakers. The round
pegs in the square holes - the
ones who see things differently.
They're not fond of rules and
they have no respect for
the status quo. You can praise
them, disagree with them,
quote them, disbelieve them,
glorify or vilify them.
About the only thing that you
can't do is ignore them.
Because they change things.
- Jack Kerouac

May I always, always, always be one of them. May I always be an advocate of radical love. May I always be the one to dream. May I always be the one to change things. May I always be the one to stand up. May I always be the one to step out into the dangerous places. May I always be crazy. May I always have the glorious, beautiful vision of the future. May I always live my life freely. May I always breathe in the scents of the world. May I always savor the tastes of the wind. May I always soak in the beauty. May I always hear the melodies, the symphonies, the rhythms. May I always reach out and touch the horizon. May I always reach out. May I die the day I stop living life.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Hug Me, I Need You.

So I haven't blogged in a while. This is relative, considering that I have friends (*cough* Emily Lynn and Chelsei Henderson) who forget to write blogs for months at a time. I think I've gone maybe a week and a half. Okay, 8 days. Not even a week and a half. But given my previous trend of writing blogs every other day, 8 days should have been almost 4 entries.

Really, I haven't been blogging because blogging would've meant having to be open and honest with my readers (however few there are), and I don't think I could've done that. I don't think I could've been honest about everything going through my head, and that bothered me enough to not blog.

Anyway. Aside from the massive emotional/spiritual crises I've been having, I've been thinking a lot about love. Everyone's favorite four-letter word. But I think that's a blog post for another day.

I posted shortly after arriving in Honduras about it feeling like home to me. I showed my favorite quote from Jamie The Very Worst Missionary's blog: "Home is where the will of God supersedes my own."

I don't know where home is anymore. I don't feel like I've come home. Home is a lot of places.

Home is my dry erase board. My dry erase board that takes all of my frustrations and all of my curiosities and all of my joys. And it does so without judgment, without retaliation, without anything. Right now, I have three scriptures (1 Peter 1:13, 1 John 4:1, and James 4:7) written up there in different colors, and the word "SURRENDER" in all caps in orange on it. No real reason why, it's just been what's on my mind. I also, in smaller letters, have the word "Home?" written in red, tilting upwards.

Home, for me, is being held. I know that sounds strange. But I'm a touch person, and home is that moment where you no longer have to rely on your own strength, and someone else's presence completely encompasses you. It's the closeness of being able to feel their breath and their heartbeat. It's the tender words in the whispers. It's a lot of things.

Every time I feel that, especially from someone I'm very close to, it's coming home.

Hug me, I need you.

So, if you see me, hug me. It very easily could be the highlight of my day.

Sunday, July 18, 2010


I have no idea why I did this. I just felt like it was important.

1. Stickman.

2. Stickman with object.

3. Stickman with object and purpose.

4. Stickman with reason to use object to achieve purpose.

5. Stickman using object to protect purpose from danger.

What's your object?

What's your purpose?

Where are you using it?

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

It's Time to Live.

I really, really, really like living. And I don't mean that in an existential "living v. existing" kinda way. I mean normal, every day, breathing, heart beating stuff. It just makes me happy. I can't explain why, but every time I get close enough to hear someone's heartbeat (which isn't too often) or when I can watch them breathe, I get butterflies in my stomach and this huge goofy grin on my face.

Maybe I'm just nuts, but something about living just excites me. This love for just living has been producing a passion for living well. A passion for making my life worth something. It just doesn't seem fair to have even one year and to spend it doing things that make you miserable.

So a few days ago, I decided to start really living. To start doing things that allowed me to feel the exhilaration of life. Things that challenged me. Things that pushed me. Things that ultimately would change me. I decided to live in a world where I amn't (long story.. am not.) afraid to love people. A world where love for people changed people. A world where there are no limits to where I can go or what I can do. A world amass in culture and language. A world with millions of experiences. A world with millions of perspectives. A world that can swallow you up. A world with more things to teach me than I could ever know.

I live in that world. On that Earth.

Isn't that just cool?

Isn't it cool that God provided us with all of this to live in and love and just LIVE? 

I mean, really, we have volcanoes and oceans and mountains and glaciers and valleys and prairies and rainforests and waterfalls and cliffs and rivers and lakes and deserts and ice and forests and caves and DIRT! All for us. And if we ever get bored with one place, there are millions of other places to go.

And if we ever get tired of looking at those things, we've got millions of animals and fish and birds and bugs to look at too. And if we get tired of that, there are billions of people to meet and billions of stories to learn and 6,500 languages to speak and billions of tiny cultural nuances to master. 

Then there's more! Even if we learn every language and see every animal and climb every mountain, there are galaxies upon galaxies of stars and planets and comets and other stuff to explore. 

We have one cool God. 
Puhlapanzak Waterfalls. Beautiful and amazing. Been there! 

Lava falling into the ocean. 

Saturn! Very cool.



You get my point? 

It's time to live.

Monday, July 12, 2010

This Day I Choose.

I've been home now for almost four days. And I really, really, really miss my babies!! I hate that I'm not there with them and taking care of them and helping with homework and play with them.

But sometimes, things have to change. And as soon as one journey ends, a new one is birthed. This journey has ended, but a new one has begun. I don't know what this new adventure entails, all I know is that I want to pursue it with the same passion that I pursued the last one. I know that I have the option to be upset about the end of my last journey, or to throw all that I have into the new one.

Today I choose to throw all I have into the new one.

Today I choose to find adventure, to find beauty, and to find joy in my life.

Today I choose to live for today, refusing to dwell on the past or worry about tomorrow.

Today I choose to love recklessly, wildly, as if no one will hurt me.

Today I choose to be only me, and I choose not to be ashamed of that fact.

Today I choose to live.

"Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." -Mark Twain

Thursday, July 8, 2010

I Just Love Nice People.

I can be a pessimist sometimes. I tend to try and avoid that facet of myself, but every once in a while I find myself drifting into that mindset. Today, however, is not one of those days. It kind of started that way, but in every possible way it was refuted. My day didn't exactly start well. I had to say goodbye to 10 kids that I fell head over heels in love with, and I couldn't tell them when I was coming back. I was hugging Pedro, and he sat up in my arms and said "You no cry?" (read: kw-eye). I shook my head (it was almost a lie. Almost. But I wasn't crying.. yet.) and he said "Why no? I cry." and then lay back down on my shoulder and hugged me a little tighter. Typing that, I am crying. I fell so madly in love with those kids.

So... that highly emotional experience, coupled with an impending new, stressful experience didn't leave me with a very positive outlook on the rest of my day.

Skip to the airport boarding. I was checking my bag in at SAP (San Pedro Sula airport), and I experienced the first of many friendly people who directed my path today. She checked my bag and gave me my tickets and told me exactly where to go and what gate to go to and what I had to do next. Step by step, with a smile on her face. I am kicking myself now for not figuring out her name. I wish I'd paid more attention to all of their names. (side note: speaking of nice people, my flight attendant is really nice. He just gave me a Dr. Pepper and he was just friendly and smiley. I can't see his nametag from here.)

From there, I thanked her, told her to have a nice day, and paid my tax. Then I said goodbye to Bob (who is another one of those nice people! I love him! Great guy!) and he, too, explained exactly what to do at my next connection and stuff. Keep in mind it was my first time flying alone. I boarded my flight, and, a little nervously, waited for my plane buddies (a.k.a., the people with assigned seats next to me.). The people I got ended up being amazing. A sweet little girl named Melony, who was eight, and her mother, Amalia. Amalia, Melony, and I talked for most of the trip about flying and traveling and D.C. (where she's from) and San Pedro Sula (where she lives) and just stuff in general. Oh, and they were Catholic. They did a prayer thing before we took off, it was neat. I found out that she and her entire family (3 kids plus hubby) fly to D.C. at least once a year. Knowing that I, um, had no idea what I was doing, she offered to guide me through the customs/bag pick up stuff. We had to separate at one point, but she pointed me through to where I was supposed to go and said she'd wait for me in baggage claim.

I misplaced myself and ended up in immigration, where another guy noticed me looking confused and asked to see my passport, then he redirected me. I smiled and thanked him, too. Another great person.

I reached baggage claim, and Amalia was there. She introduced me to her husband and her other two children (17 and 15) and she stood and waited for me to get my bag. After that, she walked me over to where I was supposed to go and pointed me in the right direction.

She was an answered prayer. I was so nervous about navigating MIA (Miami Airport), and she helped me through the first part.Which, in my opinion, was the scariest.

I walked through the doors she directed me to and I handed my passport to a nice man who had to check it for.. something. I'm not sure. He asked me how my flight was and if I'd had any problems, and I told him it was my first time flying alone. We had a nice little chat and then he handed me my passport back and told me to have a nice flight. I told him to have a nice day and walked away, practically skipping. Another nice person. I said a little prayer, having recognized another good person God placed on my path, and thanked God for him too.

This is where I ended up having problems. I got through security with no problem. Talked to my family. And somehow ended up at the wrong gate. (In between security and realizing I was at the wrong gate, there was also the nice starbucks guy who was singing and smiling and all happy-like.) See... I ended up at gate 35E. Which had a flight to Nashville scheduled for 9:35 a.m. I didn't notice the a.m. (Tip: Check your flight by flight number AND city. Not appr. time and city.) This was after I had sat there for an hour. Another nice woman heard me go "Uh oh. That can't be good." and came and helped me figure out my flight information and the correct gate. Right before I left, she put her hand on my shoulder and said "Don't fret. You still have an hour and fifteen minutes til your flight leaves. You'll be fine."

So.. I finally found the CORRECT gate. But was still extraordinarily nervous. Eventually I worked up the courage (I'd spent most of the day in the airport and on planes. I was now tired and stressed and really just wanting to be home.. an emotion that still lingers now. Oh, and all I've eaten has been pop tarts and the starbucks) to ask the lady what flight she was on. She told me that her flight was to Norfolk, not Nashville. I briefly explained my... adventure.. and she said "Well we'll just look it up!" smiled, and started checking her computer. She asked me what the airport name was and finally said "Flight 410, depart 9:45, gate D46. You're in the right spot and the plane hasn't even gotten here yet."

I almost cried I was so relieved. So we talked a little bit and I explained the whole "I'm scared out of my pants because it's my first time flying and I have no idea what to do in el aeropuerto ginormico" thing. (ginormico is not a spanish word. I made it up.) She smiled and told me she has flown many times, but she knows how scary it can be. Feeling much better, I settled into my seat and waited on my flight.

Then I boarded, said goodbye to nice lady who helped me feel not so anxious, and almost cried from relief of ALMOST being done with my big kid adventure.

I am SO done with this whole "adult" thing. I don't feel qualified, and I just want to get off this airplane and hug my mommy.

Addendum: More nice people! A group of about ten people from my church came and picked me up from the airport. I felt so very loved! I made it home safe, and have only had a few hours sleep. By the way, I did hug my mommy, and almost cried.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Not the Post I Intended to Write.

I kind of really don't want to go home. I live in this suspended reality here, kind of. In this suspended reality, there is this far off "Estados Unidos" that people go to and come from that doesn't really affect me. And sometime later I'm supposed to be going there too. In this suspended reality, I'm vaguely aware that my life might be changing and I'm vaguely aware that people that I knew won't be there when I get home and that there will be new people and that my whole life is completely different. But only vaguely. None of it's really real, it's just out there in Estados Unidos.

So I don't want to go home. Because once I get home.. everything is different. Everything. I'm different. The entire course of my life is different. And I'm not totally sure I'm okay with that. I know I don't have a choice in it, so I have to become okay with it. But for right now.. it's a far off distant world. Billy reminded me of that today after church. He told me that I'm going to have to totally rely on Christ during all of this. He told me that things aren't going to feel "okay" for months. He told me not to worry if I feel out of place. He told me that I'm going to feel tons of emotions during this whole thing and that it's okay to feel those.

But most importantly, he told me that I wasn't alone. That he'd been there. That it'd be okay in the end.

Thank you Billy! You and America are awesome! :)

But I still don't want to go home.

Today I got to see four beautiful children confess their faith and get baptized. It was wonderful. Today I was reminded of Christ's sacrifice for me. One of the songs we sang today had the line "The Darling of Heaven, crucified." And I thought about it, and just, wow. The Darling of Heaven. The most beautiful thing that Heaven has to offer... crucified. Shamed. Hurt.

We're not worthy of that. We don't DESERVE that. We don't deserve anything. I don't deserve the ability to breathe each breath I take. We deserve nothing, but He gave us the Darling of Heaven. The most beautiful. The most glorious thing ever. Because He loved us.


I have no other words to say. I have no clever metaphors, I tried to come up with SOMETHING to relate that too.. and I just couldn't. There is nothing to compare it too. There's just nothing.