Recently, I have felt constantly bombarded by the reality that life is hard and messy and broken.
There are people I love who are deeply hurting, broken, and struggling. There are broken families and homes, people torn apart by messy relationships, and people turning their backs on God. On the news there are homicides all over Chicago and hundreds of horrible stories.
I think I usually feel and internalize these things more than the average person. I tend to want to fix and make better and I want things to work. I long for harmony. But, I can't fix the world, or the people I care about who are hurting, I can only love them.
I've caught myself saying so many times this week while talking to friends "why is life so messy?" or something along those lines. We need to be reminded of the beauty and goodness in life. I need to know that it will be ok. Because life is hard and messy and full of hurt.
This is how I've been processing. If we look at life on a spectrum we can choose to live in the middle of the spectrum and numb ourselves, refuse to be vulnerable and refuse to acknowledge the hurting and the hard. Maybe this is easier because we just don't have to deal with it. Or we can choose to recognize the ways that life just sucks sometimes and that things are not how they are suppose to be. I think that if we do that, we are also open to experience the polar opposite side of the spectrum. If we understand that depth of the hard then I think we can truly believe in the beauty of the good. We can live presently in the beauty of the goodness and the freedom of redemption when we have felt the constraints of heartbreak and pain. Living in the middle of the spectrum only allows us to experience snippets and pieces. I want life to the full. Life that is hard but life that has depth and overflowing with joy, because I get to live it.
I had my last day of hospice clinical today. I learned so much about life, while walking with and caring for those who are dying. It was a blessing and an experience I will never forget. It was a reminder that I cannot do it alone. I shrink and feel empty on my own, but I am sustained by God's love and promises. And I learned that it is so easy for me to put up walls because I am afraid to feel sad with a family or because I don't want it to be uncomfortable. However, it is so much more fulfilling to live vulnerable and just be uncomfortable. To enter in and to love-- not to fix-- but to just be human and love. The best experiences I had happened when I let my guard down and decided to say real and true things, not just the "right" thing, and when I looked into a patient's eyes or saw glimpses of their story. And how I learned over and over that God is with us, and he is for us. I see him in people's stories, in their tears and in their love for each other. I'm so thankful for that.
I'm thankful that God knows what we need. I'm thankful that I am small and cannot do it on my own. I'm thankful that I get to live a life that doesn't just involve numbing myself to get by, but involves tears and aches but uncontrollable laughter and new love, and sustaining joy and whimsy.
Life is messy, but it is so beautiful. I'm choosing to open my eyes and my heart to believe these truths day after day. Join me? I promise you won't regret it.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Thursday, November 28, 2013
365 days of thanksgiving
I love thanksgiving. It means family and friends around a table sharing a meal and conversation and intentionally gathering with hearts of thankfulness. But today I was wondering why we need a whole day devoted to "giving thanks." Wouldn't our lives be more full if our everyday echoed the ideals of Thanksgiving? I think so. I'm obviously not advising the abolition of Thanksgiving because I think it is a lovely day, but I want Thanksgiving the other 364 days of the year too. Probably without the excessive food consumption.
I hope that I seek to experience the beauty and blessings of everyday. I want to be about celebrating and giving thanks for the little things in life that are really great and also for ordinary things that I so often take for granted.
I hope that I seek to experience the beauty and blessings of everyday. I want to be about celebrating and giving thanks for the little things in life that are really great and also for ordinary things that I so often take for granted.
Monday, November 25, 2013
what i'm learning
The past season of my life has felt busy, overwhelming, and chaotic, but at the same time so blessed, fun, and exciting. I feel like most of life is busy, overwhelming and chaotic but I want to be more aware of the blessings, the fun, and the goodness in every moment.
I've been reflecting on what God is teaching me right now; about him, and also about myself. I know there is always something to learn, always somewhere to grow, and something to hear, but for a while I felt stuck. I prayed to be unstuck and I prayed for God to use me, to show me what I'm suppose to be doing, and to teach me. But mostly to experience him more. And I felt unanswered. I'm not sure I would've said that then, or admitted the scary reality that I was feeling distant from God, but I was. I never said it aloud, and never was mad at God, but I just had a longing for more of him. I felt like my desires for a deeper experience with God were not being quenched. I wanted movement.
Recently however, I've been reminded of God's true faithfulness and his plan for me. I've been reminded that waiting is not bad. Waiting is hard. Waiting for God, or for prayers to be answered, or for things to make sense is always hard. At least for me, because I am a generally impatient person. But that place of waiting is where transformation happens, where hope brews and where I think the roots of true joy and thanksgiving grow.
There is always movement in our lives. There was movement and growth when I felt distant from God and there is movement now when I feel overwhelmed by his presence and transformation.
I think I've also been realizing that we settle- a lot. We settle in various ways for various reasons, but none the less, we are all guilty of settling. And boy-oh-boy, does settling scare me. Kara and I were talking about how so often we take matters into our own hands to get what we want. Instead of being in the place of waiting for what might be, we jump prematurely to where we think we want to be. I say "where we think we want to be" because I think that we don't know what's best for ourselves. I am small and broken, but God is perfect and sovereign. It sounds cliche and overused because we hear all the time that "God has bigger plans for us." But, he does! Maybe even more, he has plans for us on the journey. He has answers to our questions in the waiting and he is guiding us when we don't know-- when I am calling out for more of him. And I think this all scares me because while the waiting is so hard, the settling is so easy. It is easy, but never best. And I don't want to live an easy life. I want a life that is challenging, but meaningful. I want to seek God in the unknown and dance in the joy of his faithfulness and blessings.
I've been learning that for basically my whole life, I've been living like the hard things in my life can be solved with a formula. For example "feelings of insufficiency cured with higher grades and a smaller dress size" or "loneliness and a desired to be known fixed with a boyfriend." And so, consequently I've been living my life in an attempt to make it easier by taking matters into my own hands, and while doing that I've sized God down. I've made him smaller out of fear that I might not get exactly what I want when I want it. Prayers become like kitchen orders, and life becomes about selfishly living and failing to acknowledge the perfectly intricate and beautiful plan that has been handcrafted for me.
Moreover, God doesn't work in formulas, he is the best author ever. The stories God has for our lives are filled with trials, hard things, and pain, and they are abundantly full of redemption, unconditional love and grace. Maybe the coolest part of this all is that we don't even have to try out to be part of this beautiful story, we just get to. Everyday I have the opportunity to wake up to my life and play my character in the story God has handcrafted for me. Feelings of "not being enough" are never cured with a number on a scale, or worldly successes, or by getting what we've "always wanted". Joy and fulfillment are not achieved with a list and a set of directions. And thank goodness for that because life would be way boring.
I'm discovering that what we want doesn't usually happen how we pictured. Life is messy and hard. But God works in the messy and broken and he makes beautiful things out of hard things. So i'm waking up to seeing the whole picture and living out the story. I'm sick of expecting my timing and what I've always wanted. Instead, I'm whole-heartedly experiencing the blessings that are in the right now. Chances are the story God is writing is a whole lot better than my simple formula for life.
All God ever wanted us to do is keep dancing, keep living. He will keep writing and I think He promises it. will. be. beautiful.
I've been reflecting on what God is teaching me right now; about him, and also about myself. I know there is always something to learn, always somewhere to grow, and something to hear, but for a while I felt stuck. I prayed to be unstuck and I prayed for God to use me, to show me what I'm suppose to be doing, and to teach me. But mostly to experience him more. And I felt unanswered. I'm not sure I would've said that then, or admitted the scary reality that I was feeling distant from God, but I was. I never said it aloud, and never was mad at God, but I just had a longing for more of him. I felt like my desires for a deeper experience with God were not being quenched. I wanted movement.
Recently however, I've been reminded of God's true faithfulness and his plan for me. I've been reminded that waiting is not bad. Waiting is hard. Waiting for God, or for prayers to be answered, or for things to make sense is always hard. At least for me, because I am a generally impatient person. But that place of waiting is where transformation happens, where hope brews and where I think the roots of true joy and thanksgiving grow.
There is always movement in our lives. There was movement and growth when I felt distant from God and there is movement now when I feel overwhelmed by his presence and transformation.
I think I've also been realizing that we settle- a lot. We settle in various ways for various reasons, but none the less, we are all guilty of settling. And boy-oh-boy, does settling scare me. Kara and I were talking about how so often we take matters into our own hands to get what we want. Instead of being in the place of waiting for what might be, we jump prematurely to where we think we want to be. I say "where we think we want to be" because I think that we don't know what's best for ourselves. I am small and broken, but God is perfect and sovereign. It sounds cliche and overused because we hear all the time that "God has bigger plans for us." But, he does! Maybe even more, he has plans for us on the journey. He has answers to our questions in the waiting and he is guiding us when we don't know-- when I am calling out for more of him. And I think this all scares me because while the waiting is so hard, the settling is so easy. It is easy, but never best. And I don't want to live an easy life. I want a life that is challenging, but meaningful. I want to seek God in the unknown and dance in the joy of his faithfulness and blessings.
I've been learning that for basically my whole life, I've been living like the hard things in my life can be solved with a formula. For example "feelings of insufficiency cured with higher grades and a smaller dress size" or "loneliness and a desired to be known fixed with a boyfriend." And so, consequently I've been living my life in an attempt to make it easier by taking matters into my own hands, and while doing that I've sized God down. I've made him smaller out of fear that I might not get exactly what I want when I want it. Prayers become like kitchen orders, and life becomes about selfishly living and failing to acknowledge the perfectly intricate and beautiful plan that has been handcrafted for me.
Moreover, God doesn't work in formulas, he is the best author ever. The stories God has for our lives are filled with trials, hard things, and pain, and they are abundantly full of redemption, unconditional love and grace. Maybe the coolest part of this all is that we don't even have to try out to be part of this beautiful story, we just get to. Everyday I have the opportunity to wake up to my life and play my character in the story God has handcrafted for me. Feelings of "not being enough" are never cured with a number on a scale, or worldly successes, or by getting what we've "always wanted". Joy and fulfillment are not achieved with a list and a set of directions. And thank goodness for that because life would be way boring.
I'm discovering that what we want doesn't usually happen how we pictured. Life is messy and hard. But God works in the messy and broken and he makes beautiful things out of hard things. So i'm waking up to seeing the whole picture and living out the story. I'm sick of expecting my timing and what I've always wanted. Instead, I'm whole-heartedly experiencing the blessings that are in the right now. Chances are the story God is writing is a whole lot better than my simple formula for life.
All God ever wanted us to do is keep dancing, keep living. He will keep writing and I think He promises it. will. be. beautiful.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
nursing + entering in
Nursing school has been rough for a lot of reasons, but mostly I think because I've come to the deep realization of how hard and truly heartbreaking sickness can be. When I get asked why nursing I always say "I want my career to bring me purpose." I don't say that I expected my experiences to personally effect me so much--- every part of me.
I never expected to leave a patient's room and feel overwhelmingly inspired by their immense joy outside their circumstances. I couldn't imagine how much a terminally ill cancer patient would teach me in her final months. But I never expected to have such a deep desire to fix people, and make them well, even when I know I have no control. I guess I never processed it. And I never expected to feel hopeless when I came to terms with the reality that I could not make them well.
What I've really learned about nursing is that it truly involves entering into life with people. Walking through the happy moments of a birth and the terribly hard moments of cancer pain. So much of my life I've spent running away from discomfort, pain, and suffering. We all have. It's part of human nature-- we do whatever we can to protect ourselves from hurting. And in less than a year my job will be about people who are hurting, suffering, and struggling. I've learned that I don't want to run away from the discomfort, because I will not escape it. And really, I don't think it is what God wants us to do. Because with a mindset of fixing I will always be a failure. I believe with God there is hope, healing, love and peace.
There will be a time when there is no more suffering, no more tears, or hurting, but for now I think my job (literally and figuratively) is to enter in to the suffering and stay with the people who need it most. I can only hope and pray that my actions, words, and presence will meet them where they are.
I cannot fix people, I cannot wave my magic wand. I cannot tell the mother of my 18-month-old patient with a chronic disease that will end her life too soon, that I can make it all better. I can, however, be there with them, enter in to their lives for a long time, or just a few hours and love them. Love them in their hurt and their suffering. I learn so much in that place of being present and loving. More than when I numb myself because little me cannot change the hard things.
I've questioned many times in the last three years whether or not I should become a nurse. And then there are days like today. When I see sick patients with big smiles and bigger hearts. It seems automatic to pray for them on my long walk down the hallway to nurses station. To pray for God's will to be done, for peace for them and their families, for healing, for love, and for God's presence. And for me, as much as I would love to say, praying is not my first reaction to hard things. A truth I've learned is that I cannot do life alone, which means I cannot be a nurse alone. I need jesus, and I need to continually, throughout the day faintly whisper "I trust you Jesus."
I know that I was made to be a nurse when I drive home processing the day with a lump in my throat because of the brokenness and hurt in our world, but a deep and fulfilling warmth in my soul because I know that in the darkness there is light, and I feel that light maybe more then I ever have in my life.
THE LIGHT SHINES IN THE DARKNESS, AND THE DARKNESS HAS NOT OVERCOME IT. John 1:5
I never expected to leave a patient's room and feel overwhelmingly inspired by their immense joy outside their circumstances. I couldn't imagine how much a terminally ill cancer patient would teach me in her final months. But I never expected to have such a deep desire to fix people, and make them well, even when I know I have no control. I guess I never processed it. And I never expected to feel hopeless when I came to terms with the reality that I could not make them well.
What I've really learned about nursing is that it truly involves entering into life with people. Walking through the happy moments of a birth and the terribly hard moments of cancer pain. So much of my life I've spent running away from discomfort, pain, and suffering. We all have. It's part of human nature-- we do whatever we can to protect ourselves from hurting. And in less than a year my job will be about people who are hurting, suffering, and struggling. I've learned that I don't want to run away from the discomfort, because I will not escape it. And really, I don't think it is what God wants us to do. Because with a mindset of fixing I will always be a failure. I believe with God there is hope, healing, love and peace.
There will be a time when there is no more suffering, no more tears, or hurting, but for now I think my job (literally and figuratively) is to enter in to the suffering and stay with the people who need it most. I can only hope and pray that my actions, words, and presence will meet them where they are.
I cannot fix people, I cannot wave my magic wand. I cannot tell the mother of my 18-month-old patient with a chronic disease that will end her life too soon, that I can make it all better. I can, however, be there with them, enter in to their lives for a long time, or just a few hours and love them. Love them in their hurt and their suffering. I learn so much in that place of being present and loving. More than when I numb myself because little me cannot change the hard things.
I've questioned many times in the last three years whether or not I should become a nurse. And then there are days like today. When I see sick patients with big smiles and bigger hearts. It seems automatic to pray for them on my long walk down the hallway to nurses station. To pray for God's will to be done, for peace for them and their families, for healing, for love, and for God's presence. And for me, as much as I would love to say, praying is not my first reaction to hard things. A truth I've learned is that I cannot do life alone, which means I cannot be a nurse alone. I need jesus, and I need to continually, throughout the day faintly whisper "I trust you Jesus."
I know that I was made to be a nurse when I drive home processing the day with a lump in my throat because of the brokenness and hurt in our world, but a deep and fulfilling warmth in my soul because I know that in the darkness there is light, and I feel that light maybe more then I ever have in my life.
THE LIGHT SHINES IN THE DARKNESS, AND THE DARKNESS HAS NOT OVERCOME IT. John 1:5
Thursday, August 22, 2013
enough
It's late, but I wanted to write. School starts Monday and I move back tomorrow, I don't know how often I will get to write-- so I'm doing it now.
I've been anxious to get back to school, to see friends and be settled before classes start, but I've also been dreading to leave. I will miss my family, home cooked meals, sleepovers at Mara & Kevin's, sweet little Avy, and my job. I will also miss the freedom that summer brings. Freedom from more than just school. There are no classes to study for and no tests to take, but for some reason, to me, Summer has more of a "come as you are" feeling than any other time of the year. Summer is good.
Don't get me wrong, I love Fall too. I love the smell of Fall, crunchy leaves, chunky sweaters and, spicy teas, and anything pumpkin, but I don't like all of what Fall brings. I like to learn and I like to be at my beautiful school, but as I write this I feel the sense of do more, be more, get to work, that Fall brings.
As most/all humans do, I struggle with feelings of not enough. It has looked different throughout my life, and now as a 21-year-old college students it looks like academics, achievements, success, and image.
I'm reading Daring Greatly, by Brene Brown, and she talks about the human issue of enough. She talks about how our first thought in the morning is about scarcity-- we didn't get enough sleep, and then we don't have enough time-- and how this cycle continues throughout the day. I feel this most often when I am in the midst of the chaos and business of school. I feel like I don't get enough sleep and that I don't have enough time, but I also feel like the best version of myself, and my best work, is still not enough. I am surely my toughest critic, but throughout the day I am beating off the nagging voice that tells me, "study more, get better grades, exercise more, eat healthier, look more presentable (e.g., maybe not yoga pants everyday, Mal!), respond to emails faster, be a better roommate..." that little nagging voice seriously. doesn't. stop. But I think I'm changing that. Yes, I said it. I've just decided. I refuse to believe the voice of not enough.
This year, I want to believe that I am enough. Just as I am. Outside of my grades, my weight, my email-response speed, and so many other things about me that are not perfect.
There is a bigger truth, I have a God who beats out that nagging voice that is mean and wrong. He is my heavenly father, who created me and said that I am not just good, but very good (Gen 1:31). Who knows my deepest secrets and my desires, who knows my flaws and faults, and still believes that I am beautiful and perfect. And He calls me his beloved.
I think that when I listen to the voice of not enough instead of the voice of loved, I miss out on life. I miss out on showing up and being present because I am too busy worrying about being better in that moment, in that classroom, at that meeting. And I miss loving people, because when you listen to voice of not enough, comparison and jealously come along for the ride. Suddenly, anything you previously going for you, looks plain lame compared to someone else. Instead of focusing on loving people well, I worry that I didn't do as well as they did on the exam, or that they look perfectly cute and put together and I look like I got 5 hours of sleep and concealed my dirty hair under my baseball hat. Life becomes a competition.
Remember in swim lessons, when the teacher would tell you swim to them? "I'm right here, just swim right to me." And then the most terrifying thing would happen right when you were about to meet the "right here" point......... they took 5 steps back. What! My 4-year-old self would freak out. My 21-year-old self freaks out when I view things in life as a "right here" point. Like, success, and relationships. I can never keep up and I continue to be a failure if I believe that I am suppose to be perfect. I am just a work in progress, and I am doing my best. Swim lessons look different however, with people cheering you on and encouraging you and someone who loves you standing in the pool with their arms open saying "I've always been here waiting. I love you. You are good enough, you don't need to swim anymore. I have you." I think that is how God would be in the pool.
As corny as my analogy is, I like it. I am just learning how to swim, I'm figuring it out, and learning how to live in the truth of my beloved-ness.
I'm going to try to show up more just as I am, and listen to the "loved" voice, that tells me I am good enough, both, in my mess and on my best days.
I am a dear child of God, I am beloved. So are you.
“First of all, you have to keep unmasking the world about you for what it is: manipulative, controlling, power-hungry, and, in the long run, destructive. The world tells you many lies about who you are, and you simply have to be realistic enough to remind yourself of this. Every time you feel hurt, offended, or rejected, you have to dare to say to yourself: 'These feelings, strong as they may be, are not telling me the truth about myself. The truth, even though I cannot feel it right now, is that I am the chosen child of God, precious in God's eyes, called the Beloved from all eternity, and held safe in an everlasting belief.”
― Henri J.M. Nouwen, Life of the Beloved: Spiritual Living in a Secular World
I've been anxious to get back to school, to see friends and be settled before classes start, but I've also been dreading to leave. I will miss my family, home cooked meals, sleepovers at Mara & Kevin's, sweet little Avy, and my job. I will also miss the freedom that summer brings. Freedom from more than just school. There are no classes to study for and no tests to take, but for some reason, to me, Summer has more of a "come as you are" feeling than any other time of the year. Summer is good.
Don't get me wrong, I love Fall too. I love the smell of Fall, crunchy leaves, chunky sweaters and, spicy teas, and anything pumpkin, but I don't like all of what Fall brings. I like to learn and I like to be at my beautiful school, but as I write this I feel the sense of do more, be more, get to work, that Fall brings.
As most/all humans do, I struggle with feelings of not enough. It has looked different throughout my life, and now as a 21-year-old college students it looks like academics, achievements, success, and image.
I'm reading Daring Greatly, by Brene Brown, and she talks about the human issue of enough. She talks about how our first thought in the morning is about scarcity-- we didn't get enough sleep, and then we don't have enough time-- and how this cycle continues throughout the day. I feel this most often when I am in the midst of the chaos and business of school. I feel like I don't get enough sleep and that I don't have enough time, but I also feel like the best version of myself, and my best work, is still not enough. I am surely my toughest critic, but throughout the day I am beating off the nagging voice that tells me, "study more, get better grades, exercise more, eat healthier, look more presentable (e.g., maybe not yoga pants everyday, Mal!), respond to emails faster, be a better roommate..." that little nagging voice seriously. doesn't. stop. But I think I'm changing that. Yes, I said it. I've just decided. I refuse to believe the voice of not enough.
This year, I want to believe that I am enough. Just as I am. Outside of my grades, my weight, my email-response speed, and so many other things about me that are not perfect.
There is a bigger truth, I have a God who beats out that nagging voice that is mean and wrong. He is my heavenly father, who created me and said that I am not just good, but very good (Gen 1:31). Who knows my deepest secrets and my desires, who knows my flaws and faults, and still believes that I am beautiful and perfect. And He calls me his beloved.
I think that when I listen to the voice of not enough instead of the voice of loved, I miss out on life. I miss out on showing up and being present because I am too busy worrying about being better in that moment, in that classroom, at that meeting. And I miss loving people, because when you listen to voice of not enough, comparison and jealously come along for the ride. Suddenly, anything you previously going for you, looks plain lame compared to someone else. Instead of focusing on loving people well, I worry that I didn't do as well as they did on the exam, or that they look perfectly cute and put together and I look like I got 5 hours of sleep and concealed my dirty hair under my baseball hat. Life becomes a competition.
Remember in swim lessons, when the teacher would tell you swim to them? "I'm right here, just swim right to me." And then the most terrifying thing would happen right when you were about to meet the "right here" point......... they took 5 steps back. What! My 4-year-old self would freak out. My 21-year-old self freaks out when I view things in life as a "right here" point. Like, success, and relationships. I can never keep up and I continue to be a failure if I believe that I am suppose to be perfect. I am just a work in progress, and I am doing my best. Swim lessons look different however, with people cheering you on and encouraging you and someone who loves you standing in the pool with their arms open saying "I've always been here waiting. I love you. You are good enough, you don't need to swim anymore. I have you." I think that is how God would be in the pool.
As corny as my analogy is, I like it. I am just learning how to swim, I'm figuring it out, and learning how to live in the truth of my beloved-ness.
I'm going to try to show up more just as I am, and listen to the "loved" voice, that tells me I am good enough, both, in my mess and on my best days.
I am a dear child of God, I am beloved. So are you.
“First of all, you have to keep unmasking the world about you for what it is: manipulative, controlling, power-hungry, and, in the long run, destructive. The world tells you many lies about who you are, and you simply have to be realistic enough to remind yourself of this. Every time you feel hurt, offended, or rejected, you have to dare to say to yourself: 'These feelings, strong as they may be, are not telling me the truth about myself. The truth, even though I cannot feel it right now, is that I am the chosen child of God, precious in God's eyes, called the Beloved from all eternity, and held safe in an everlasting belief.”
― Henri J.M. Nouwen, Life of the Beloved: Spiritual Living in a Secular World
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Dear Kendall
Kendall,
I don't think you knew when we sat at that table in the dining hall of Castaway in August of 2011 how much you were impacting my life. While we sipped lemonade and ate chips you allowed me into your life and I am so thankful you did. I needed you then, I needed Jesus more, but I needed you to play a very important character in my story. The truth is, if it weren't for you, I don't think I would be a Young Life leader today, and I don't think I would be the person I am today either. You inspired me then, and you have inspired me everyday since then.
When I tell my story I say that the week I led your cabin at Castaway was one of the best weeks of my life, you probably didn't know that it was also one of the hardest. We laughed so hard as we went banana boating and ate ice cream by the beach, and I loved those moments! I would do it again in a heartbeat. At night we heard about the Gospel and how very much we are loved and in cabin time the 16 of us cried together, because life can be hard, because the hurt we feel is real, and because it is so apparent how much we all need Jesus.
I was there as a leader, but I felt like your joy and love for life was leading me in some ways, inspiring me to be better. Your love for Jesus was radiating from your smile, your leadership and the way you effortlessly loved those around you. You have not stopped being inspiring.
I had a hard summer, a hard year really, my freshman year of college had not been exactly what I imagined. I felt like I had lost a lot that year; a close group of friends, a long-time boyfriend, my popularity, and my comfort. My first year leading Young Life was hard too. Standing in a room of high schoolers felt intimidating and overwhelming and I didn't feel prepared or equipped to lead-- I was trying to figure out my relationship with Jesus too. I have never stopped believing since then that Jesus doesn't call the equipped, he equips the called.
I think there are few moments in life that you can point to and say that is when it changed, one of mine happened that week at camp. During one of the leader meetings at Castaway we were talking about becoming fishers of men, and how Jesus told the disciples to let down their nets to follow him. He said that they needed to let go of their nets because he had something better in store. I remember sitting there crying, knowing that I had stuff in my net, things I wanted for myself that I was desperately clinging to, afraid that if I really, truly gave up control, and began listening to his call for me I would be disappointed. But I decided in that moment to let down my net --fully-- not like I had been for most of my life, but to really trust that He had greater things in store. I invited him into my brokenness to heal the cracks, and to fill my gaps of insufficiency, and to help me love others better, because I couldn't do it alone and I was tired of trying to. And oh, how He continues to show me everyday how wonderful life is with Him.
We both left changed from camp, with stories from the week written on our hearts and a new friendship evolving. One day you made me go zip-lining with you, I didn't necessarily love zip-lining, but I loved your desire to make life more fun. You weren't content sitting on the beach, you wanted to go and do, you wanted a life of adventure and whimsy!!
I had the privilege of leading you, guiding you, loving you in the ways I was able, and gracefully loved me back and returned all the above. Looking back, I know the Lord was using you, not only that week, but everyday both in my life and the lives of so many others. I've loved every minute with you since, I feel so honored to have watched you grow into the beautiful person you are today.
It's been so lovely to do life with you. When I mention your name to my Mom, she tilts her head and smiles the same way almost every time, like she knows just how much to mean to me and the role you've played in my college experience. I remember one time I was studying for a Pathophysiology exam, I was in the basement of the library with my friends when you text me you needed to talk. They thought I was crazy for leaving, but I never questioned the importance of studying in that moment, because I am your young life leader, but more importantly your friend, and you are more valuable than any test or any grade. I will ditch studying for you anytime!
We have so many things in common, weird laughs, a love for dancing, a desire to live life to the full, and much more. I love that the Noodles & Co at Old Orchard mall is our place, and we go there and get Wisconsin Mac and Cheese together-- I will do that with you until we are 99 and 102-years-old. I love getting your sweet text messages during a hard day, or seeing you post something kind on Facebook letting a friend know that they are loved by you. You have a big heart, one overflowing with kindness and generosity, one that desires to serve and love "the least of these" (Matthew 25:40).
Selfishly, I want you to stay in Chicago, and not go away to Vanderbilt. I think you are too great to be shared. But I know that God is bringing you to new places to grow and to be challenged, just like I was brought to Loyola to be grown and challenged. Please know that I am a phone call away, or a 7 hour and 12 minute car ride (google map'd it baby). But please also know that no matter where you are, no matter how hard things get or how alone you feel, you have a friend who is much greater and wiser that I. He is the God of the Universe, and He is on your side today and always.
If there is one prayer I have for you it is that you never forget that your relationship with Jesus comes before all things. He is bigger then school, Young Life, clothes, relationships, success, money, friends, dreams, etc, etc. While at the same time He is working in the smallest details of your life, even when you cannot see it. And always, that you are incredibly, undeniably, unfathomably, and incomprehensibly loved-- God sent his one and only son to die for YOU, because God so LOVED you.
I don't think you knew when we sat at that table in the dining hall of Castaway in August of 2011 how much you were impacting my life. While we sipped lemonade and ate chips you allowed me into your life and I am so thankful you did. I needed you then, I needed Jesus more, but I needed you to play a very important character in my story. The truth is, if it weren't for you, I don't think I would be a Young Life leader today, and I don't think I would be the person I am today either. You inspired me then, and you have inspired me everyday since then.
When I tell my story I say that the week I led your cabin at Castaway was one of the best weeks of my life, you probably didn't know that it was also one of the hardest. We laughed so hard as we went banana boating and ate ice cream by the beach, and I loved those moments! I would do it again in a heartbeat. At night we heard about the Gospel and how very much we are loved and in cabin time the 16 of us cried together, because life can be hard, because the hurt we feel is real, and because it is so apparent how much we all need Jesus.
I was there as a leader, but I felt like your joy and love for life was leading me in some ways, inspiring me to be better. Your love for Jesus was radiating from your smile, your leadership and the way you effortlessly loved those around you. You have not stopped being inspiring.
I had a hard summer, a hard year really, my freshman year of college had not been exactly what I imagined. I felt like I had lost a lot that year; a close group of friends, a long-time boyfriend, my popularity, and my comfort. My first year leading Young Life was hard too. Standing in a room of high schoolers felt intimidating and overwhelming and I didn't feel prepared or equipped to lead-- I was trying to figure out my relationship with Jesus too. I have never stopped believing since then that Jesus doesn't call the equipped, he equips the called.
I think there are few moments in life that you can point to and say that is when it changed, one of mine happened that week at camp. During one of the leader meetings at Castaway we were talking about becoming fishers of men, and how Jesus told the disciples to let down their nets to follow him. He said that they needed to let go of their nets because he had something better in store. I remember sitting there crying, knowing that I had stuff in my net, things I wanted for myself that I was desperately clinging to, afraid that if I really, truly gave up control, and began listening to his call for me I would be disappointed. But I decided in that moment to let down my net --fully-- not like I had been for most of my life, but to really trust that He had greater things in store. I invited him into my brokenness to heal the cracks, and to fill my gaps of insufficiency, and to help me love others better, because I couldn't do it alone and I was tired of trying to. And oh, how He continues to show me everyday how wonderful life is with Him.
We both left changed from camp, with stories from the week written on our hearts and a new friendship evolving. One day you made me go zip-lining with you, I didn't necessarily love zip-lining, but I loved your desire to make life more fun. You weren't content sitting on the beach, you wanted to go and do, you wanted a life of adventure and whimsy!!
I had the privilege of leading you, guiding you, loving you in the ways I was able, and gracefully loved me back and returned all the above. Looking back, I know the Lord was using you, not only that week, but everyday both in my life and the lives of so many others. I've loved every minute with you since, I feel so honored to have watched you grow into the beautiful person you are today.
It's been so lovely to do life with you. When I mention your name to my Mom, she tilts her head and smiles the same way almost every time, like she knows just how much to mean to me and the role you've played in my college experience. I remember one time I was studying for a Pathophysiology exam, I was in the basement of the library with my friends when you text me you needed to talk. They thought I was crazy for leaving, but I never questioned the importance of studying in that moment, because I am your young life leader, but more importantly your friend, and you are more valuable than any test or any grade. I will ditch studying for you anytime!
We have so many things in common, weird laughs, a love for dancing, a desire to live life to the full, and much more. I love that the Noodles & Co at Old Orchard mall is our place, and we go there and get Wisconsin Mac and Cheese together-- I will do that with you until we are 99 and 102-years-old. I love getting your sweet text messages during a hard day, or seeing you post something kind on Facebook letting a friend know that they are loved by you. You have a big heart, one overflowing with kindness and generosity, one that desires to serve and love "the least of these" (Matthew 25:40).
Selfishly, I want you to stay in Chicago, and not go away to Vanderbilt. I think you are too great to be shared. But I know that God is bringing you to new places to grow and to be challenged, just like I was brought to Loyola to be grown and challenged. Please know that I am a phone call away, or a 7 hour and 12 minute car ride (google map'd it baby). But please also know that no matter where you are, no matter how hard things get or how alone you feel, you have a friend who is much greater and wiser that I. He is the God of the Universe, and He is on your side today and always.
If there is one prayer I have for you it is that you never forget that your relationship with Jesus comes before all things. He is bigger then school, Young Life, clothes, relationships, success, money, friends, dreams, etc, etc. While at the same time He is working in the smallest details of your life, even when you cannot see it. And always, that you are incredibly, undeniably, unfathomably, and incomprehensibly loved-- God sent his one and only son to die for YOU, because God so LOVED you.
I love you, KJL!!
Our cabin at Castaway Club Young Life Camp! // Summer 2011
Kendall was there when I got baptized! // Fall 2012
When Kendall visited Timberwolf while I was on Summer Staff! // June 2013
Sunday, August 4, 2013
writing + living
I've been wanting to write a blog post for weeks. One that meant something to me, and possibly, hopefully something to someone else. I think it's because I've been inspired by so many gifted people whose words spark something inside of me. I've read a lot of good books recently, and so many times I've been struck by sentences written by the author and have that thought of "Oh my gosh, I've totally felt this and thought I was the only one!" or "Yes, I really desire that too!" I always read with a highlighter or pen ready (probably a little bit of the inner nursing major in me) and I circle words, star paragraphs, and underline sentences, and sometimes I write "definitely" or "yes!!" in the margins when I really like something-- nerdy, I know, I hear about it when friends or roommates borrow by books. A good book is like food for my soul when the letters on a page the speak to my heart. I will never be a great writer, or at least I highly doubt that! That is OK, I won't lose sleep over that. But I love to put the thoughts that swirl in my head all day or the things I have heavy on my heart, in words and on pages.
Prayers and conversations with God seem so much more real and meaningful to me when I write them down. I also love to look back on what I write. It is so easy for me to forget where I have been, and even easy to become ungrateful for the change and growth in my life, but words capture my past and show glimpses of who I am becoming.
Often though, I battle the voice that tells me that what I want to write and what I have to say, do not matter. So I don't blog, because I believe the lie that my words carry no value. I don't write because I'm afraid of being disappointed by myself, or what others will think. Much like other things in my life, I don't fill-in-the-blank because I am afraid. I have grand ideas and hopes, but days go by and my life seems more like a boring list of chores and emails sent instead of the story I'm hopeful of living. I think truly the only person that is holding me back is actually me.
When I drive myself to Chicago and back or wherever, I like to listen to audiobooks-- I'm like an old woman. In the spring I listened to A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller, and then this past week I listened to it again while I traveled for a work trip because it is so good. I love it. I have the hard copy too, but got around to listening to it before actually reading it. The book is about how Donald Miller, while make Blue Like Jazz into a movie, learned about the story he was telling while "editing his life." He talks about heartbreak, and taking risks, and how stories are made when characters must work to overcome conflict, and the growth that ensues. So many times while listening I want to call up a friend and say "Let's do this. Let's hike in Peru, or drop everything and go on a mission trip around the world, or let's better serve those in our neighborhood!" And so many times I cry while driving down the highway, because the words he has written describe feelings I know so well, and are such deep truths that I want all people to know and experience.
I'm in such a time in my life where I feel like there are many decisions to be made and many questions asked of me about my future. Where I will live, or what I will do, or who I will be with. And to be honest, I think at this point I have fewer of those answers then I ever have before. I feel lost in a lot of decisions but I feel confident in one thing; I have an incredible desire to not just go through the motions of life. I know that where I have had the most fun, learned the most, made the best relationships have been through risks. I want to live a life of meaningful experiences. Obviously, not every moment of every day will have some spectacular meaning but I do believe that beauty and growth can be found in the mundane if we are willing to look. More than that, I believe that God calls us to a life of risk and a life of adventure. I am not called to a sedentary human. I want my everyday to radiate liveliness and love. I want to be busy making memories, not busy making lists. I want to see the good in everyday, and when I experience hard things, I want to be present and grow in those places. And I want to love better-- Jesus, my friends, my family, people I know deeply and people I don't know at all.
So this is my very small step to living a better story, to fearlessly write, today and hopefully more often.
"You have stories worth telling, memories worth remembering, dreams worth working toward, a body worth feeding, a soul worth tending, and beyond that, the God of the universe dwells within you, the true culmination of super and natural.
You are more than dust and bones.
You are spirit and power and image of God.
And you have been given Today.”
Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines: Celebrating the Extraordinary Nature of Everyday Life
Prayers and conversations with God seem so much more real and meaningful to me when I write them down. I also love to look back on what I write. It is so easy for me to forget where I have been, and even easy to become ungrateful for the change and growth in my life, but words capture my past and show glimpses of who I am becoming.
Often though, I battle the voice that tells me that what I want to write and what I have to say, do not matter. So I don't blog, because I believe the lie that my words carry no value. I don't write because I'm afraid of being disappointed by myself, or what others will think. Much like other things in my life, I don't fill-in-the-blank because I am afraid. I have grand ideas and hopes, but days go by and my life seems more like a boring list of chores and emails sent instead of the story I'm hopeful of living. I think truly the only person that is holding me back is actually me.
When I drive myself to Chicago and back or wherever, I like to listen to audiobooks-- I'm like an old woman. In the spring I listened to A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller, and then this past week I listened to it again while I traveled for a work trip because it is so good. I love it. I have the hard copy too, but got around to listening to it before actually reading it. The book is about how Donald Miller, while make Blue Like Jazz into a movie, learned about the story he was telling while "editing his life." He talks about heartbreak, and taking risks, and how stories are made when characters must work to overcome conflict, and the growth that ensues. So many times while listening I want to call up a friend and say "Let's do this. Let's hike in Peru, or drop everything and go on a mission trip around the world, or let's better serve those in our neighborhood!" And so many times I cry while driving down the highway, because the words he has written describe feelings I know so well, and are such deep truths that I want all people to know and experience.
I'm in such a time in my life where I feel like there are many decisions to be made and many questions asked of me about my future. Where I will live, or what I will do, or who I will be with. And to be honest, I think at this point I have fewer of those answers then I ever have before. I feel lost in a lot of decisions but I feel confident in one thing; I have an incredible desire to not just go through the motions of life. I know that where I have had the most fun, learned the most, made the best relationships have been through risks. I want to live a life of meaningful experiences. Obviously, not every moment of every day will have some spectacular meaning but I do believe that beauty and growth can be found in the mundane if we are willing to look. More than that, I believe that God calls us to a life of risk and a life of adventure. I am not called to a sedentary human. I want my everyday to radiate liveliness and love. I want to be busy making memories, not busy making lists. I want to see the good in everyday, and when I experience hard things, I want to be present and grow in those places. And I want to love better-- Jesus, my friends, my family, people I know deeply and people I don't know at all.
So this is my very small step to living a better story, to fearlessly write, today and hopefully more often.
"You have stories worth telling, memories worth remembering, dreams worth working toward, a body worth feeding, a soul worth tending, and beyond that, the God of the universe dwells within you, the true culmination of super and natural.
You are more than dust and bones.
You are spirit and power and image of God.
And you have been given Today.”
Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines: Celebrating the Extraordinary Nature of Everyday Life
Thursday, July 25, 2013
this blog still exists
I'm going to try to start blogging again. For a lot of reasons, I think, but I think also because I am really starting to believe that life is happening right now. Even when it seems like I am waiting for something bigger to happen. I know that if I am open to opportunity and if I look around I will, in fact, believe that there are extraordinary things happening on this oh-so-very-boring-day. So this can be a place to document that. I reread all my old blog posts a couple weeks ago and while reading I remembered how freeing it was to write, and at the same time how incredibly vulnerable it makes me feel. I am willing to risk vulnerability to learn more about Jesus and about life and about who I am and what am I doing here. Most good things in life are hard, and I am OK with that.
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