Rhythm

Our lives are full of rhythm. Whether it’s our routine, or the constant noise that floats past our ears, rhythms are all around us. Right now, I’m listening to the rhythm of the rain. It’s pitter-patter on the tin roof. The dripping onto the chipped cement below. And how the sea breeze blows the steady falling rain in different directions. There is rhythm in the rain. Music is made. The drops tap out a beat and I follow along. 

My life-rhythm has been a little off-beat lately. Days haven’t gone according to plan. To-do lists stay full, with nothing getting checked off, while more things are added. I’m doing the delicate, yet often times tough, dance of trying to tie up loose ends and get everything done before I leave Liberia in just a few days. I have to make priorities, and choose to totally disregard things that just aren’t as important.

The last few weeks have been hard. Liberia-hard, yes. But hard in a different way, too. Hard because of unexpected, uninvited roughness. Hard because it’s not easy living life with people—it’s messy. And hard because I’m trying to help, but all that I feel in return is entitlement and ungratefulness. And I have to ask for more grace and patience. And trust that my actions and words will rise above the crud and be remembered. And if not, then I have to accept that too.

Some days, I long for holy rhythm. It’s hard to explain, but if you’ve experienced it, then you know what I’m talking about. That constant communion and fellowship with the Father. You feel Him and hear Him. He is present and tangible. I know that He is always present, but when the rhythm is interrupted, He can be hard to find. I crave that assurance that only comes from Him—when you know that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be and you’re doing exactly what He’s called you to do. And because of that assurance, you cling tightly to His promises and press on. Holy rhythm is a spiritual thing—your words and actions and reactions and thoughts are the extension of the Holy Spirit. Like sweet smelling incense gently rolling away from your hands, feet and mouth. Your eyes are full of light and your words are like fire—there is power in your belly, if you choose to use it.

I’m laying under my fleece blanket inside my mosquito net box. The rain is starting to lull, and I welcome the dark, quiet morning. I think about my rhythms. My rhythm of sliding my feet into flip-flops, rolling up my mosquito net, folding my blanket and drawing the curtain back to welcome the day. The rhythm of opening my top drawer to pull out my Bible, prayer journal, gratitude journal and pens. The rhythm of a day that seems to be full of rain, darkness and cold breezes. The dreaded rhythm of making note of things I’m leaving behind, pulling out the suitcases and dusting the rainy season mold off of things and starting to throw things inside. 

And then there will be the frenzy of leaving. Friends stopping by, last minute errands, people wanting you to carry things for them, passing things off to someone else and making sure everything is taken care of before I go. Then there is the long, cold rhythm of flying nearly 8,000 miles. And the tiredness that goes along with that. And then I wake up in a strange land, much different than the world I left behind just a few hours ago. With this rhythm I know exactly how it all goes, and I anticipate the people and things that will greet me on the other side. But there will be a period of adjustment, a stage of culture shock and lots of needed sleep.

Do you ever sometimes think that a known, chaotic rhythm is better than the rhythm that is to come? Maybe because it’s comfortable or predictable or familiar or convenient? I will say that I am looking forward to the rhythm that is to come, but I also know that there will be highs and lows, peaks and valleys. But there is also the unknown. After my period of adjustment, I’m not really sure what sort of rhythm I will have. But I want it to be a good, healthy, enjoyable and fruitful rhythm. I know there are things that I want to be a a part of my new rhythm—family, healthy food, creativity, quiet time, dreaming, fellowship. And I also want to be sensitive to the Spirit’s rhythm. When I think about it too much, it feels like a tall order, or maybe like there are not enough hours in the day to live full and well. But then I’m reminded that I just need to show up and be present. And enjoy and savor. And extend grace and show love. And stay grounded in the Word and anchored in prayer. 

And to trust. No matter what. 

Trust in the beautiful, chaotic rhythm of the Creator. His rhythm is where Life is found, where wounds are healed and where joy is never-ending.

I am choosing to rest in this mysterious rhythm today, and I hope you will too.

My Sunday Morning Margin

It’s Sunday morning. I stayed in my bed until nearly 10:00! I could hear the bustle on the road of people trying to make their way to church. There’s also the constant buzz of the cricket that’s been hiding out in my closet for the last few days…and I cannot for the life of me find him! The church next door starts, and it’s actually not as annoying as I feared it would be. I finally emerged from my mosquito net box. The breeze has been fairly constant. I wake up almost every night cold. My curtain is blown nearly up to the ceiling by the wind. The sun is shining and I have found my pause.

Typical sounds of Sunday continue. The church just down the road begins. They’re louder than the church just on the other side of my wall. I pull eggs out of the freezer so they can thaw. I want to bake something this morning—a box of Jiffy blueberry mix, or perhaps banana bread. I crawl back into bed and start to read Hebrews 12. I turn on some music, open up my prayer journal and settle in. After adding to my gratitude journal, I look for a banana bread recipe on Pinterest, because it seems as if I’ve left my go-to recipe at home. I have the entire place to myself—a first in over a week! The sky turns gray and a slow rain begins to fall. The cricket hasn’t let up, and the music continues. The ping of the rain hits the zinc roof. 

I cherish this time of being alone and finding the pause because it is very rare. I’m also storing up energy and sanity, as I’m set to be the guest speaker at a school’s closing ceremony this afternoon. I’m supposed to speak on “the important of elementary education as a foundation for every child”—or at least that was what the handwritten note that was delivered to me said. 

Last night was the first chance I’ve had to walk around the neighborhood. First of all, I was looking forward to getting some alone time, but Momo wasn't having it. He told Abraham to go with me since it was getting late. I asked why I used to be able to walk to the beach every evening by myself, and Momo said “it’s different now.” I think he’s taking his vow to my mom very seriously! There goes a favorite “alone” activity!

My walk was actually strange. My usual route to the beach has been blocked off by a new cement wall and steel gate, so I take a less familiar path. None of the usual children were around. Liberians kept their distance, and mostly just starred. That’s one the weirdest things about being back post-Ebola—people keep their distance. Even more weird is that the Liberian handshake has become extinct.  An old acquaintance did find me as I was walking along the beach, and after an awkward moment, we did a half handshake.

When we headed back to the house, we passed an older man walking through the weeds in a red choir robe. I said the usual greeting, “y’ello” and as he passed by, he said, “we thank God for life.” To which I replied, “tha’ true-o.” As soon as we passed on the dirt path, Abraham told me that the man was a pastor. He then began to explain that people go to him for healing, prayer, etc. and he makes them spend money of things—special water, animal sacrifices, or to hear from the Holy Spirit. Abraham told me that he remembers going with his mom to that man’s church (his house). I started to tell Abraham about how that wasn’t a pastor, and that the Holy Spirit is free! I fumbled over my words and tried to explain darkness and true evil. Prayers filled my spirit.

This is the darkness that Liberia holds. Twisted, false, cunning, impostors. It’s the battle. The battle against the unseen. The battle against darkness that is deeply entrenched into an entire culture. It is part of the fabric of this country. 

The Good news is that Light overcomes darkness. The Good news is that this isn’t a battle that I’m left to fight alone or in my own strength. But the reality is that when you know the Truth, you are a potential weapon. And the darkness hates to be attacked. 

I’ve been thinking about how I’ve settled in well to my new home. It’s mostly comfortable. There are still headaches (like the plumber fixing my kitchen sink yesterday, only to wash my hands this morning and now it leaks more than it did before!). I have had good health thus far. I could use a little more rest—a full night’s sleep would be awesome! But I’ve also been thinking about how the enemy is lying in wait. He’s waiting for the real stuff  to begin, and that’s when he will make himself known. Instinctually, I want to hunker down. I’m waiting for the first blow to my gut—the one that knocks the wind out of you. But I also find myself gearing up, whispering little prayers throughout the day and writing words of power in my prayer journal in the mornings. I’m clinging to promises and truths. I’m counting mosquito bites and praying against malaria. I’m trying to learn the balance of give and take; creating boundaries and doing things that I know that I need for my own health.

So much of these last three weeks has been different. There is a lot of new, but there is also a lot of familiar. I’m looking forward to this next week—I will be attending trauma counseling training hosted by SIM, and it is specifically geared towards training Liberians to work with people affected by Ebola. It’s based off of the curriculum that I have from the American Bible Society, and the training will also include how to train others.

I most excited about how God continues to connect the dots when it comes to my counseling ministry here in Liberia. I’m praying for divine appointments and connections at the training—with SIM staff, but also with Liberians at the training. He continues to put people in my path with the same passion and vision for spiritual and emotional health in Liberia, and I cannot wait to see what He has in store! I already feel like I will be holding another training workshop for other Western friends who have shown interest in wanting to go through the training. I guess we will just have to wait and see what happens!

I have managed to keep my bubble of peace and rest until after 1pm! The rain is still slowing trickling off the roof, but the cricket has stopped! Cool breezes blow through my window and I hear chickens and horns honking. It’s time to eat some cucumber salad, throw on a fancy skirt and hop on a motorbike to go deliver my speech that I’ve thought about for approximately two minutes. It’s the Liberian way!

Thank you all for your prayers! Your prayers have seen me through these first few weeks. It’s been a relatively easy adjustment. I miss my family and the ease and comforts of home. I want the biggest salad ever, and I don’t want anymore bread or noodles. But thankfully I’m not homesick. And God has surrounded me with so many old and new friends! I have Liberian friends showing up at my gate every day asking if there’s anything that they can help me do, and not one has asked for anything in return. It’s really made me feel at home and I offer a bowl of rice or a dollar or two for being down on their hands and knees scrubbing my floor. They decline the money, but will take the rice offer. 

I see the future. Despite frustrations and leaky sinks, I can see how this home will be a place of laughter, joy and dreams coming true. I’ve found myself saying it more than once, “inside this fence is about dreams. dreams coming true. whether they’re God’s dreams, my dreams or your own dreams, dreams are going to come true here!” And I believe that!

Birds, Barbed Wire & God

I woke up sometime before 6am this morning. It was still dark outside, and it was quiet. I pulled my blanket up over me and tried to go back to sleep. My mind started running away from me, and sleep wouldn’t come. I finally checked my clock at 5:58am. At some point I fell back asleep, and woke up around 7:30am when the fan went off and the singing outside my window began.

This morning, I filled a page of my gratitude journal. It’s easy to do that in Liberia—there is so much to be thankful for. I’ve jotted down hundreds of things in my journal over the past 17 days. I stopped writing this morning at #655.

#655: beauty in the pain, ugliness, poverty, hardships, darkness, hopelessness…He is here!

And that’s when it dawned on me.

That one statement is the essence of Liberia.

When you look around, if you’re blinded, all that you see is dirt, garbage, heat, poverty, disease, injustice and corruption. Darkness and oppression are heavy, evident and tangible. How can there be any hope in that?

Somehow, some way—if you’re able—when you can see past those things, God allows you glimpses of Him. 

As my feet walk over a garbage-littered, red dirt road, I am able to see beauty and life. As my eyes survey a tiny community of poor fishermen and their families living in utter poverty and filth, I see simplicity and unbreakable bonds. As I walk through the community, I sense an immense amount of pain, even though women are plaiting hair and laughing and children run up to say hello and shake my hand. As I sit in the yard at a friend’s house—a yard I haven’t stepped foot in since the night her baby died—I talk and laugh with her and her three young sons. Her oldest son Moses writes his name for me in the sand, and I wonder how often she thinks about her fourth son. There is a group of children in the yard next door—a “crazy man” with hundreds of pieces of rope and string draped over his head is interacting with them. He looks like a Raggedy-Anne doll, and he has them all laughing. The children lead him over to the white woman, and he asks what state I’m from. He lights up when I say Georgia, and immediately references Atlanta. He meekly smiles, puts his hands together and tells me that he’s from Maryland Georgia too. He tells me to have a nice day, and continues walking. I wish I had a photo of that man because he was beautiful. I saw Jesus right then and there.

And then I woke up this morning to birds singing loud and beautiful songs while sitting on the barbed wire outside of my window. The sun rises and the heat of the day begins. I breathe in deep when a cool breeze blows through the open window. I am a little sticky, but another cool breeze comes. 

That is Liberia. 

Singing amongst the barbed wire; sticky but a cool breeze will always come.

And through it all, God is here.

The Roller-Coaster

The last 48 hours have been a roller-coaster.

I thought I was going to Liberia on Tuesday, but instead, I took an overnight trip to New York.

I was mentally and emotionally prepared--my life here was in shutdown mode, and my life in Liberia was booting up. I was ready, excited and was filled with peace.

After a late night and early morning, I returned back to Atlanta on Wednesday morning. I was reunited with family and friends. I got pizza for lunch--something that I had wanted to eat before I left, but didn't. I spent the afternoon with my sister and mom, helping my sister get her nursery ready. I slept in my own bed last night, with a ceiling fan and fluffy warm covers. I was happy to have an extra day at home.

Last night, I prayed that when I checked the flights this morning, that it would be very clear whether or not I should try again today or wait until next week. I wanted big, obvious results...which didn't happen. Right now, the computer says I should make it to New York, and then to Accra and Monrovia. The problem is that things can easily and quickly change, and there's no way to know.

My sister called me, and she pretty much kicked my butt. It wasn't fun. It was emotional. I told her I needed to finish reading my Bible and praying and then I'd make a decision. I read 2 Thessalonians today.

"But the Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen you and protect you from the evil one...And as for you, brothers and sisters, never tire of doing what is good...Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way."

2 Thessalonians 3: 3, 13, 16

[well, crap...my first excuse to my sister this morning was that i was exhausted, and the thought of traveling for two days just makes me even more tired.]

And, let's be honest: I really wanted to be in Liberia for Small Ashley's birthday (which is today). I had promised Momo that I would be there for her birthday. And that's clearly not possible. So then I started thinking that since it's so close to a few things happening here, that I was bummed about missing out on, that it's ok to stick around here until next week. 

I think some of the emotions came from realizing that, before it felt like either/or...and today I have realized that it's a neither.

So, I'm leaving for Liberia today. I don't know what will happen in New York, but I know that I can't not try. If the numbers were obvious, and trying was foolish, of course I wouldn't do it. But right now, I should make it on all flights. I wish I just knew the outcome, and knew I'd for sure be on my way to Liberia tonight. But the reality is, I don't know what's going to happen. I do know, that I'm going to put one foot in front of the other, and go to the airport at 3:30 for a repeat performance. 

I would appreciate your prayers! I'm praying that God wouldn't even let me leave Atlanta if Liberia isn't a possibility today. I'm praying for a seat out of JFK, so that I will wake up in Africa tomorrow. I am continuing to trust in God's good plans and perfect timing. 

I will already have a friend waiting for me at the gate in New York...a Liberian who didn't make it on Tuesday either. So, at least if I don't make it, I won't be stuck alone. I will keep you all updated on where today takes me. Love you all!

My Return to Liberia

So here is my usual night-before post. It's 2am, but I've been packed for hours. I spent my day running errands and space-saving and weighing bags over and over again. I had the traditional "Last Supper" with my family and friends. Tonight's menu: homemade meatballs, mashed potatoes and gravy, broccoli, salad and ice cream. All the comforts of home.

I have said almost all of my goodbyes. Things are getting real.

But let's be honest....I've felt like I was going to throw up since about 4pm. So many mixed emotions. I have been away from Liberia for almost one full year...the longest amount of time for the last 7 years. But my heart and mind have been so close to Liberia this whole time. I am so ready to be back there--sweating, the ocean breeze, Liberian-English, laughter, my children and my family!

But this is also the first time that I've left for Liberia and I'm already looking forward to coming home. Strange. This will be a very short trip, compared to my usual 7+ months. I will be in Liberia for 5 weeks. But when I come home, I will become the proud aunt of two more nephews!

I know things have been quiet around here, but let me just tell you that God has done so much in my heart and life just over the past few weeks! He continues to answer prayers. He continues to provide. He continues to expand my heart. He continues to guide my steps. He is here, He has gone before me, and He will follow behind me.

God has also done so much healing in my own heart since I was last in Liberia, and I am so excited to go back to Liberia with a new heart and new eyes. A huge part of that healing was me forgiving Liberia. It was a long and painful process, but it brought so much freedom and joy! It was also necessary, in order for me to take the next step of faith, and actually finally agree [aka be obedient] to return to Liberia.

I can see how God has heard my cries, answered my prayers and filled me with joy. He has torn down walls, given me purpose and made my heart full.

Tonight, just before my sister said her goodbyes, she asked what she could pray for. I started off by telling her to pray that I wouldn't get Ebola and die. And that there wouldn't be too much drama with my landlord. And then she said, " no seriously..." and I said, "seriously....ok, pray against the enemy. God has been doing so much, that I know he is ready to fight." And it's true...for the past few weeks, I've felt like I need to arrive with my dukes up.

She then asked if there had been a verse or a theme or anything that I'd been thinking about. And the answer to that is YES! I just keep thinking, "the old has gone and the new has come." I have also been praying, "Jesus, make your joy the anchor of my heart."

I am so. ready. to get to Liberia. Yes, I'm dreading things--like sweating, stifling heat, landlord and money drama, Liberia drama, etc--but I am also looking forward to sweet reunions, celebrating Small Ashley's first birthday, the laughter of children, watching The Green House transform before my eyes, the ocean=my sanity, prayer walking in Cooper Beach, claiming scripture in my yard and in the house, sharing life with my neighbors, and sharing the stories with all of you!

You can be praying that I make it on all of my flights tomorrow (I'm flying standby the whole way) and that all of my bags would make it. Pray for divine appointments in airports and on airplanes. Pray for protection, good health (p.s. there is an Ebola outbreak in Guinea on the Liberian border) and rest. Pray that I would be able to collect the photos, videos and interviews that are needed for this next round of fundraising. And most of all, pray that everything would be done for His glory!

Thank you all so much for your continued prayers and support. I truly could not do any of this without you!

Love,
Ashley

Looking Ahead

God is so good! He has blessed me so much over the past few weeks! I traveled to Kansas City, MO to attend the Onething Conference through the International House of Prayer (IHOP). It was four days of renewal. I really felt like it was a time of celebration and thanksgiving for all that God has done this last year. I sang my heart out and poured out my praises. There was such freedom in the worship. The speakers were challenging. Creating real conversations within minutes of meeting people was something that reminded me how crucial community is, and also how much I miss it! The sights and sounds of 25,000 people exalting the King was breathtaking and encouraging. It filled me up! Those four days is what life should be like! Prayer, worship, thanking strangers, being renewed and challenged, wrestling through things, being real and letting others in, meeting new people, praying for strangers, having strangers pray over me, worshipping with total abandon...all of it! That's what I long for!

So now I'm home. Long and quiet days by myself. How do I incorporate the two? How do I worship wholly in daily life? How do I live in awe through the simple and normal? Where do I find community when I feel like it doesn't exist? It's all found in the four hour conversation at Starbucks. Sharing life, dreaming of the future and giving all of the glory to God over a cup of chai. It's in the quiet moments of the morning, before you feet hit the floor, when you quietly talk with Him. It's also found when you're driving down the road singing your heart out and you just can't help but take your hand off the wheel and raise it in the air. Worship is found in the normal. Community can be found over a cup of coffee. And Christ can be found anywhere that you are willing to look.

God is good. God is faithful.

He is worth the sacrifice; the hard, long and in the waiting. He is worthy of everything, if only I wouldn't forget sometimes.

But this journey isn't meant to be done alone. We need each other! Did you hear that? Independence is good in some situations, but when it comes to the things of God, it can kill you. It is killing us. It's killing me.

I learned a few years ago in Liberia during my "month of darkness" that solitude is one of the best weapons of the enemy. I was constantly surrounded by people, but yet I felt utterly alone. After days and weeks, I was dead. Paralyzed. Thankfully, my community rallied around me. But not until after I was open and honest and asked for help. I let them in. Isolation is constantly being used to tear down, divide and destroy. Why? Because it's something unseen and goes unnoticed, and then it's too late. How can you fight against something that you can't see? And it creates a bigger divide among the Body by the second.

Friends, in this new year, let's make an effort to join hands and fight for one another. Let's fight for relationships, friendships, marriages and community. We must be willing to fight. We must look at the situation as an urgent, nonnegotiable necessity! This fight, and joining of hearts, is where we will find true joy, life and purpose. Isn't that what we all desire?

I'm begging you (and myself) to fight for the people and things that matter. Slow down and stop for the person in front of you. Listen to them. Look them in the eye. Let our lips overflow with encouragement and our hearts overflow with thanksgiving and praise.

It's a new year. We only get one 2014. Let's make the most of it and live it well. Be faithful. Seek joy. Celebrate beauty. Just be honest. Make 2014 a year of wholeheartedness. In everything. And don't forget to tell His stories!

Happy new year! I am so expectant for all that God has in store for 2014!

Join me the the fight!

Things to Think About...

[My favorite place to think!]

Sometimes, you just need to think. You know what I mean?

One thing that I've learned about Liberia is that it is near impossible to find peace and quiet. Which makes it hard to think sometimes. I typically find myself thinking on the beach (when nobody is around...which is hard to come by sometimes) or in the shower. Yes, I said it.

I've been trying to think all day, but haven't found the time, space or amount of silence to think. So that's where I found myself tonight. Thinking about the dichotomies of this country in the shower.

How can you never be by yourself, but feel alone? How can your day so quickly take a turn? How can life look so different when we're all people created by God? These are the things I ponder.

There was nothing super spectacular about today, and there was also nothing terrible. The weather was good--not too hot, and a nice breeze--and I went about my day with a fair amount of ease. But there were moments that made me stop.

When I opened my front door this morning, and looked across the Atlantic. Breathtaking views, mighty waves, that salty breeze. Absolutely beautiful. This is my happy place.

And then you venture out onto the highway...the place where life happens. So many people, colors, sounds and smells. Women selling produce, babies taking baths, children walking to school.

A few hours later and I'm heading to an orphanage. My most favorite place in this country on a Friday afternoon--under the mango trees at Frances Gaskin.

But between leaving the house and driving less than 10 miles, there was alot to take in. Things to process and think about. Decisions to make. And that's when memories of my previous life in Liberia came rushing back.

You stop quickly at an orphanage to drop off some medicine. For a child that's burning up with fever. That nobody's taken to the clinic. And he's been this way for two weeks. He looks pitiful and you feel conflicted. You want to fix. Make things better and right. But you know that there has to be a sense of responsibility. You ask yourself if you're helping or hurting. You give money for the clinic, ask that he be taken in the morning, see the body language of someone who could care less, and climb back in your truck and drive away. It doesn't make sense, but you know you did the right thing.

You drive a few miles and see a crowd gathered on the side of the road in the distance. I've decided that a scene like this makes my heart stop. And today my heart stopped. You get closer and see the mangled motorbike lying in the middle of the road. And through the crowd of people you see a pair of white cloth shoed feet not moving. Thanking God that you can't see anything beyond that, but you hold out your hand and say aloud a prayer, "Jesus, Jesus, please be with that boy and don't let him be dead." And my stomach twists. And I take a deep breath. And we keep driving.

Within a few minutes, I'm at the orphanage, under the plum trees, baking with the girls. There is laughter, licking batter bowls and talk about the future. So much joy and contentment. I want to take a snapshot of every moment to carry home with me and pull out whenever I'm missing Liberia. Plums falling, dogs licking my butter covered toes, the charcoal burning in the coal pot that will bake our banana cakes, and just sharing life together.

Then I sit down with the director to talk about a missing child. Oh, my daughter Lucky. This home is not the same without her. My Liberia is not the same without her either. I've been praying for her for months, and praying in faith that I would come to Liberia and find her. And then there was that moment with the director when my heart dropped. When I realized that I won't be seeing Lucky while I'm here. And when my brain begins to comprehend that I might not ever find her. I hold it together, but tonight my tears fall. This is one of those hard moments, when you have to fully trust God and truly believe that He watches over each and every one of His children.

Tonight as I washed away the day's dirt, I was thinking about all of this. I asked God why things happen the way that they do. I asked God why He chose me to come here. Why Liberia? Why not somewhere safe, familiar, with my family, easy or comfortable? Why do I have to figure out how to operate in a place where things don't make sense, life is difficult, reality is harsh, faith is stretched, darkness breaks through, but Light overcomes?

And that's when God began to answer: I make sense. I am safe. I am with you. I chose you. I have equipped you. Delight in me, as I have delighted in you. I am the Living Water; your daily bread. I make all things new, and my mercies are new every morning. Joy comes in the morning. 

And I wash. And ask God for a clean heart and a clear mind. And I hold on to His promises.

I don't know why it's me, or why it's here. But I know that God's plans are the absolute best. And that's where I want to be--right in the middle of His good and perfect will.

And then it begins to make sense. That is why it is me. And that is why it is here.

Leavin' for the LIB

I've been dreaming of this view alot this past week!

I feel like I should have something profound to say, but I don't. I have set a new personal-best, however, being that it's 11:30pm the night before I'm leaving for Liberia and my bag is closed and I'm in bed! I typically stay up until 3am the night before I leave for Liberia, playing the space-save/un-space-save game. So, maybe this is a sign for what's to come?

Other than a packed bag, and lots of butterflies (I always have butterflies when I head to Liberia), it honestly doesn't seem real. I think the butterflies are from excitement and anticipation, and then you add an extra flight for a standby passenger (which is always nerve-wracking), and I'm all jittery inside. And, for a moment of truth--I was brushing my teeth and I started thinking about the escape plan. I have felt so empowered, confident and filled these last few weeks...and as I was brushing my teeth, my mind began to wander. Going to Liberia tomorrow is like the first BIG step of this new adventure! Getting on that plane is saying yes. Do I really want to say yes?! I can easily just not show up at the airport tomorrow, right?

But, my heart yearns.

My heart yearns to fully trust God. My heart yearns to be obedient to what He's asked of me. My heart yearns for His presence, and to experience life to the full--because I've been invited on this journey, and this journey is incredible!

Lately I've been thinking [thanks, crazy brain of mine] alot about sacrifice. What it means to sacrifice. What sacrifice looks [and feels] like. Wondering if I'm sacrificing, and if so, am I sacrificing comfortably...or am I sacrificing until it hurts. Don't get me wrong, I love Liberia and the people there...but I also hate Liberia.

Liberia is sacrificing until it hurts.

And life has been pretty comfortable these last nine months. And I'm not so sure I'm ready for it to hurt again.

Actually, I don't want it to hurt. Nobody wants pain, right?

But I know it will hurt.

I'm trying to dance around and figure out how to best protect my fragile heart tonight. I haven't even stepped foot into that beautiful red-meets-green-meets-blue land, and my heart already hurts.

My heart hurts for Lucky. You can continue to pray for her, and that she would be found. I can't help but think over and over again about how He left the ninety-nine behind to find the one. I've been praying out of faith that Lucky is the one, but I've also selfishly been praying that I will see Lucky while I'm in Liberia.

My heart hurts for injustice, poverty, hunger, disease, lack of opportunity and the loss of hope.

But I believe in a living God who has already overcome! I have to cling tightly to that promise!

Tomorrow's journey begins the new journey. I don't know what the path looks like, and the footholds are unfamiliar. I am inviting you to join me on this next little adventure. For the next three weeks, I will be updating you all through the blog and through my Facebook. But, more than anything, I am asking you to please be praying for me over the next three weeks! You can pray for the following:

- Pray for travel mercies. I'm flying standby, and my biggest worry is getting out of Atlanta. Because Delta did away with the direct flight from Atlanta, I have to fly to New York. As of now, I should make it on the flight to NY...so just pray that nothing crazy happens with flights, the weather, etc. between now and then. I am scheduled to depart Atlanta at 3:40pm, and will depart JFK for Accra at 8:45. If everything goes smoothly, I should arrive in Monrovia on Thursday at 3:20pm (11:20am EST).

- You can also pray that my bag makes it!

- Pray for divine appointments...even at gates and on flights!

- Pray that I'm able to get some sleep on the flights...especially the long-haul (about 10.5 hours) from JFK to Accra.

- Pray for safety and good health.

- Pray that I will easily adjust to my new surroundings--the time difference, the heat, the noise, the hurt, etc. March/April is typically to hottest time of the year in Liberia, and the heat index has been well over 100 lately! I'm pretty acclimated back to America now [didn't even use my electric blanket this winter], so I'm worried that I'm going to be a wimp!

- I arrive on Thursday afternoon and Elena is leaving Liberia on Sunday afternoon. Pray for just sweet sweet time together before she leaves! (And pray for her winding up, saying goodbyes and departure!)

There are alot of initial things to pray for, and once I arrive in Liberia, I will share more prayer needs with you all! Overall, you can be praying for clarity, direction, divine appointments, wisdom and just a peace for me!

Love you all, and can't do this without you!

Journeying Back to the Heart

The journey begins with the first step...and don't forget to enjoy the scenery! 

A cold and rainy day. I was up early for an airport run, but found it necessary to get back in bed under the warm covers. I’ve been reading, writing,  worshipping and talking to God. Today’s weather reflects my heart’s deepest thoughts.

I have been back home for 8 months. This is the longest amount of time that I’ve been home in nearly 5 years! I have a love/hate relationship with home, just like I have the same type of relationship with Liberia. It’s been difficult. It’s been challenging and lonely. There have been so many thoughts and prayers to God about this season. It can be confusing. There are frequent feelings of grief, sadness and doubt. On the one hand, I don’t get it--I don’t understand what the whirlwind of emotions are or where they come from. But deep down, I just know that it’s ok, but I also know that these feelings need to be dealt with (whatever that looks like, I don’t know). 

I’m good at keeping things inside, and stuffing things down; this can be dangerous and destructive. Sometimes it’s easier to ignore things, try to forget about them, hope and pray that they go away, or think things have been dealt with. Sometimes I think I try to trick myself. And then there are days that I know it’s just better to cry. That’s a good method for when I’m in Liberia, because sometimes it’s all that you can do. 

I’ve been trying to put my finger on what exactly I’m feeling, and it’s quite the challenge. There is grief--grief because of loss--the loss of Liberia, life as I knew it, friendships, purpose, community, constant dependence on Him. There is numbness--numbness to daily life...it’s hard to see purpose sometimes. There is confusion--what the heck am I doing, where am I going? There is self-pity--there are plenty of days that I feel like a loser. There is heartache--heartache for Liberia, for the children, for Momo and Ma Mary, for laughter, for the ocean breeze and sunsets, for feeling a huge sense of helplessness. There is fear for what’s to come. I think most of all, I feel incredibly overwhelmed. You know that feeling when you just don’t even know where to begin? That’s me.

Holding on to Hope.

Now that you think I’m a very depressed person, let’s talk about the good! I am clinging on to Hope. Some days are more difficult than others, but Hope is still there. Deep down, in my bones, I feel it. But there are so many days when my flesh (and the enemy) tries to tell me otherwise. I know that God has me right where He wants me. No, it doesn’t make sense to me right now, but I know that one day, I’ll be able to look back and know exactly why He has me right here for right now. Yes, it is a lonely road...but I have to keep reminding myself that He is with me every step of the way! Some days I just can’t believe it because it doesn’t feel like it. But whether I feel it or not, He is here.

Lately I have been challenged with spending my time wisely. I have decided that my biggest enemy right now, other than myself, are distractions. Our world is so full of distractions! It’s actually pretty ridiculous to think about. If you take a minute and think about how you’ve spent your time today, what do you come up with? Did I spend more time watching TV or looking at Facebook than I did walking and talking with the Lord? Did I make a difference today? Who did I live for today--myself, others or Christ? All of these questions are challenging, and all too often, we try not to think about them because we know the ugly answers. We spend so much time doing things that don’t matter--as a culture, we are serial time wasters! I truly think the enemy has us right where he wants us. Distracted, hurting, disconnected...that’s the worst place to be, and the place that makes us totally useless for the Kingdom. We begin to only think of ourselves, and we live our lives that way. We loose His love, joy and peace. Our light begins to dim--sometimes without us even realizing it--and we enter the danger zone of being snuffed out. 

I’m saying we, but I really mean me. 

I have lost joy. I am distracted. I think about myself quite a bit.

I am simply trying to be real with myself. This, after all, is my safe place. But my hope and prayer is that by sharing my struggles and feelings, that you can relate (we aren’t meant to be in this life alone!) and be encouraged and challenged. What if each of us begins a journey back to the heart of Christ? What if we all live in His joy? What if our light burns brighter? What if we lay ourselves down and begin to clothe ourselves with the love of our Father? What if I extend His grace to the world around me? What if I open my hands, bend my knees and fling the doors of my heart wide open to ALL that He has for me? What if I walk in His strength? What if I served and loved like Him?

Imagine how unbelievably reckless we could be? And when I say reckless, I mean utter abandonment to this world and total surrender to His calling. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of reckless spurts--I want the ultimate-dependence, total-surrender, most- incredible, reckless-to-the-bone life! Why in the world would I want that? It’s not glamourous. It’s dark and lonely and painful. But I’ve tasted it, and it is good! It is heart refining, soul stirring, joyful living, fellowship filled goodness! I’m telling you, it’s incredible! That is what I want. That is what I long for.

The next step of the journey is about to begin. I am nervous, excited, scared, overwhelmed, and expectant. It’s going to be incredible...incredibly difficult, but incredibly beautiful! I cannot wait to share it all with you very soon!

With shaky steps, a grateful heart, and the desire to give it all.

If I'm Honest...

[source]

If I’m honest, this past month or so has been extremely difficult. So many thoughts, feelings and emotions have been swirling through my mind and heart.

If I’m honest, there is not a day that goes by that my mind doesn’t tirelessly try to think and plan and question and problem solve. My mind can be consumed with thinking.

If I’m honest, it’s hard. Really hard.

If I’m honest, some days I have to remind myself of all of the things that I’ve experienced over the past five years--yeah, those things really happened! Some days it’s hard to believe, and other days I thank God over and over again for all of it!

If I’m honest, I feel alone. I don’t feel like anyone understands or relates. And when I’m questioned, I usually just cry because I don’t feel like I can adequately explain things and I don’t feel like people can or will understand.

If I’m honest, I’m scared! My mind immediately flashes back to March-May...when things were unbearable. When I thought I couldn’t take anymore, but things kept coming. I don’t want to walk through another valley like that again.

If I’m honest, I’m all over the place, and I don’t have my things all together. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I feel totally unqualified.

If I’m honest, I feel a great deal of pressure. Whether it’s real, or imagined, I feel like alot of people are watching and waiting. {Even though it drives me nuts...thank you!}

If I’m honest, I really miss Liberia...especially the people!

If I’m honest, I am desperate for community--people to share life with. People to laugh, cry, hope, dream and grow with.

If I’m brutally honest, I don’t want to do it alone. I want a partner to share it with.

If I’m honest, I need your prayers! I feel like I’m quickly approaching a crossroads. Actually, I know I’m there already. It’s time to get with the program, to do this...or not do this. It’s overwhelming.

If I’m honest, I hope that you’ll join me. I cannot do this alone. There is so much praying and planning and work to be done...and I need you! {But don’t all raise your hands at once, because right now, I just need your prayers! I’ll let you know when it’s time.}

If I’m honest...really honest...I’m standing on the ledge, and I just can’t jump. It’s frustrating--I know God is faithful...He’s been faithful time and time again. I can also see down the road and it’s SO good--I’m living purposefully and lives are being changed...but it’s still hard....and that’s ok.

If I’m honest, sometimes you just have to be real and honest with the people around you, and this is my ‘safe place’ to do that...where I won’t just start crying...so thank you for listening!

What is IT All About?

[My favorite road sign in Liberia was always a reminder: Do Not Stop...Keep Going]

This...all of this...is all for You. It's about being so close to You that nothing else matters. It's about the hunger and thirst to know You more. It's the desire to be in the middle of You moving and working and being a part of that. It's about going outside of myself and letting You use me to do incredible things. It's about loving and serving others. It's about slowing down, living simply and loving deeply. It's about knowing You more intimately and making my heart more like Yours. It's about sharing Your incredible and unconditional love with others. It's about You and Your power and Your glory. It's all about You!

It's about kindness and compassion. It's about being rooted in Love. It's about all things working together for good. It's about learning, growing and stretching. It's about worship, praise and thanksgiving. It's about a real God, who longs to walk in the garden with His children. It's about delight--delighting in my Savior as He delights in me. It's about seeing truth, beauty and hope in the world around me. It's about being a city on a hill. It's about Light going into the darkness. It's about pure and faultless religion. But it's not about "religion"...it's about relationship. It's about calling and conviction. It's about the Body of Christ and fulfilling my role within the Body. It's about the opening of eyes, ears, hands and hearts. It's about love--not Hollywood love or fairytale love; but life-changing, deep-to-the-point-of-painful Love. It's about generosity and using my blessings to bless others. It's about declaring the Word of the Lord. It's about You, Lord. It's not about me, us, a church, a denomination, a number, a statistic--it's all about Jesus! His love, grace, mercy and power!

Use me...use us...use the church...use all denominations...use the Body of Christ to speak up, to speak out, to love unconditionally, to listen, to encourage, to change lives, to bring hope and healing, to break chains and bring freedom. Help me...us...to say yes!

Jesus, bring Heaven to earth!

[excerpt from my journal on September 26, 2012]

These Hands

I don’t know why, but for the past week or so, that’s the phrase that keeps coming to my mind.

These hands.

What about these hands? 

They aren’t pretty. They’re rough and dry with craggily fingers. There’s often dirt under my nails…or I’ve bitten my nails off. Let’s just say, I could use a manicure.

The more that phrase keeps coming to my mind, the more I start to really think about [and look at] my hands. [and then I resist the urge to bust out into Jewel...nevermind.] I’ve been thinking about where my hands have been and what my hands have done. What my hands wish they’d done. What my hands can do, and will do.

These hands.

I’ve spent the last two days looking through ALL of my Liberia pictures from the last four years. All 23,193! [no joke.]

I started to take notice of my hands. I started to make mental notes of things my hands have done. 

These hands have held and clutched and clasped and gripped and welcomed and worked and encouraged and taught and given and received and explored and moved and created and held on and let go.

I've thought about the situations my hands have dealt with. Times when my hands have just gone up in the air in despair. Days when my hands have clasped tightly onto another hand—a dear friend, a prayer warrior, a dying man, a sick child, a parent who has lost.  How my hands have brought and offered all kinds of things—a drink of water, bubbles, food, Bibles, toys, wheelchairs, a warm blanket, my heart, laughter, comfort, medicine—everything. And sometimes nothing at all.

Empty hands.

I think those are the best kind. 

Hands that are ready and willing. Hands that have no clue. Hands that are nervous or fearful. Hands that are open. Open wide to the Father. Hands needing grace. Hands desperate for joy. Hands raised as an offering. Hands praising and thanking. Hands exploding with worship and awe.

These hands are mine.

I choose what to do with them. Where to take them. I choose yes or no. I choose hard or easy. I choose open or closed.

so. much. responsibility.

so. much. power.

so. much. potential.

I want to be responsible with these hands.

I want to be faithful and loyal with these hands.

I want to share life--the highs and the lows--with these hands.

I want to tell stories and share needs with these hands. 

I want to walk alongside, admire, honor and respect with these hands.

I want to love and serve with these hands. 

I want to bring laughter, hope and healing with these hands.

God, use these hands.

Despite how powerless and unmotivated and unequipped and plain-jane these hands are--You have used them over and over again--and You will continue to use them. Help me to keep them open. Lifted up to You. Give these hands peace, so that when they’re tempted to tighten their grip, the grip will just relax and the fingers will open again. Make these hands bold and adventurous. Place clear direction on these hands. May these hands never forget where they came from, or what they’ve experienced. These hands mustn't forget what they’ve learned; the hands they’ve held and the moments when it didn’t matter what they were or weren’t capable of. Let these hands continue to bring hope to others...and even sometimes, to myself.  Use these hands to bring light to the darkness and to bring Heaven to earth.

Lord, make these hands Your hands.

Today's Thoughts

It's time for this. It's been awhile. I'm feeling introspective today. Really, there has been so much on my mind and heart these past few weeks. But also, honestly, I have wanted to hibernate.

16+ hours of travel, straight off the plane to Chick-Fil-A to meet my nephew Ethan!

The first few weeks of being home were great! I spent so much time with my family and my new nephew [stinker came early and was waiting on me to get home!]. I caught up with friends. I enjoyed the things of home--my bed, hot showers, straight hair, good food, fast internet, church...just to name a few. But after about two weeks, I was sitting in church, and the thought came to me--it's been easy and enjoyable thus far, but it's about to get difficult...really difficult.

Right now, I'm somewhere between difficult and really difficult. Don't get me wrong, home is great...but home is hard. Such different worlds with different mentalities and different ways of life and different purposes and ways of relating to others with different struggles and distractions. There are so many obvious differences on the surfaces, but there are so many differences under the surface too. I usually spend a good month trying to remember how to be an American. No joke. Conversations seem surface and superficial, and sometime awkward. Sometimes things or situations or reasons don't make sense. Sometimes I just don't get white people [no offense...but there are also plenty of times that I just don't get Liberians either]. It's just an adjustment.

Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into a month. I've been home for a month! The busyness of life in America has taken over. Those dang iPhones have also taken over, ha! I feel disconnected. I ache for community. I desperately want to connect with like-minded people who are [preferably] around my age. I told my mom the other day that I really feel like an alien, and I can't figure out where the aliens hang out around here. It's true.

I get multiple phone calls from Liberia every week, sometimes multiple phone calls in one day. They make me so happy, and make me miss Liberia--mostly just the people who are on the other end of the line! I hate when I miss a phone call from Liberia, but I love the voicemails of child after child telling me hello and that they're missing me plenty-o! I'm missing them plenty-o, too!

Ok, so let's get the nitty-gritty out of the way. The frequently asked questions:
Q: When are you going back?
A: I do not know. My time with ORR is finished, but I know that I will go back to Liberia. I will be home for awhile.

Q: Are you going to get a job?
A: [my toenails curl...and I try to smile, be nice and answer the question...] Right now, no. I have money saved, so I'll be ok for now. I also need the time to rest, enjoy, be still, wait, grieve, etc. I am continuing to refinish furniture (great excuse to turn on some worship music and get lost in paint therapy), and will probably just stick to that as a "job" for now.

Q: What's next?
A: That's a great question! I have no idea! It's time to get life back in the reigns, and really spend some time being quiet and still. God has given me alot of ideas, dreams and passions, and I need His guidance and clarity. It's exciting.

[Those are the three most FAQ's, but I'm going to throw in the most important FAQ that's not really a FAQ, but I sure wish it was!]

Q: How can I pray for you?
A: How much time do you have? You can pray for my continued adjustments to life on this side of the ocean. I don't want to fall back into 'normal life', but want to continue on the momentum from all that God taught me during my last 4 months in Liberia. Pray that I will take the time that I need to rest, think, grieve and reflect. Pray for understanding from those around me. You can be praying that my eyes, ears and heart will be open to His voice--for wisdom, clarity, direction and guidance. Pray that God would provide me with the things that I'm aching for--community, worship, fellowship, friendship, fellow dreamers. You can also pray that I would figure out how to live day-to-day life here in America with the same desperation and purpose that I have in Liberia...it's tough. I think that's a good list to start with!

[If you have any other questions, please don't hesitate to ask...but I can't guarantee that I have the answer.]


All of that to say, I'm home...things are good, but it's also difficult...and you can be praying for me! The introspectiveness is really starting to go crazy, so I'm sure there will be much more to share in the near future. I also had a birthday yesterday (I'm ninety two years old now, according to the wait staff at the Mexican restaurant that put the candles of my cake yesterday....but I feel so young and look so good, haha!), and I really believe that, although this past year was quite the ride, this is going to be the best year yet! Thank you again for all of your encouragement, love, prayers and support!!!