homeless

i was sitting inside jersey mikes, eating my sandwich alone, when he passed by the window. watching as the blustery winds and snow swirled around his body, as a finger from the Lord Himself pointing him out to me. "he has to be cold." i thought to myself. i checked the weather on my iphone; feels like 16. i saw him standing under the awning, only to walk back and forth to the corner of the building, as if he was indecisive about which place guarded him from the wind the best. he walked back one last time, before disappearing out of my sight around the corner of the window.

i had saved half my sub, which i never do when i just get the regular one. i just hadn't seemed as hungry as i thought i was before i left church. when he appeared again in my peripheral, i knew that the Lord had multiplied that food as i ate, that the other half of the sandwich was never mine to begin with.

i rolled down my window and stuck my hand out in the snow. "would you like the other half of my sandwich?" i asked. he looked at me without saying a word and began to slowly walk over. "thank you, honey. God bless you." he replied. the sadness in his eyes spoke more truth and pain than his words ever could. as he backed away, i could sense his humility when he asked, "honey, you wouldn't be able to help my wife, could you? we're about to be put out of our room. do you have any cash to spare?" my heart broke. i was speechless. "i'm sorry, i can't." my heart wanted to say so much more, but my lips never caught up. "thank you. God bless." he responded. i rolled up my window, and went on my way.

now i know a host of people that would be skeptical of the whole situation, and some that say it has been their own poor decision in life that have left them homeless. but the humility and hesitation in his words, the shame he conveyed as he reached out for help, the look of sorrow in his eyes-- can not be faked, can not be ignored.

waiting at the stop light, i saw him standing there where i had left him with the sandwich. just standing, in the pelting snow and freezing wind. not on the corner, not panhandling or begging. not even approaching any of the customers as they left. just standing in a place where he literally had no idea what he was to do next. i may have never been homeless, but i've been there. standing, stranded, hopeless. knowing i shouldn't be in the rain, but not knowing where to turn or how to keep moving.

i drove away and began to cry out to God. "Lord!" i called. "what more can I do?! i want to help. no one should be out in the cold with no where to go. why can't i help him? who can help?" my heart was breaking for a population in which i know exists, but one that is much easier to evade eye-contact with when we are met with a red light and a black-marker sign.

i cried and cried and begged God to intervene, to use another person to help. to do what they can. i kept saying over and over to God, all i have is a sandwich. all i could give was a sandwich. i felt so guilty. here i was, in a warm coat, in a warm car, going back to my warm house. i worry about finances and if i'll ever pay off my bills, but today i was worried if i would be able to make it down to Jo-Ann's fabrics in the snow before it got dark. we've been blessed by His hand, and even though we may think we don't have much, or even what we deem "enough," we have been provided for by our Jehovah Jirah. i sat in the parking lot at Kroger, praying for this man and the pain i saw in His eyes. Lord, touch someone's heart to help. Give him a second chance. may he be supernaturally warmed by Your love and Your spirit.

we are all homeless in this world. we are all lost, and standing in the snow, not certain what to do next. but the Lord is calling us home. He is offering us mercy from the storm and inviting us into right-relationship with Him. He is extending His grace in exchange for our hearts to praise Him. i am so comforted by this, knowing that even in the times I find myself at a loss for words or direction or protection from the cold, there He is; prepared to take me in, keep me fed and make sure I'm warm.

a challenging reminder

a year ago, i submitted and presented my thesis for my master's degree. this is an excerpt from the conclusion that i recently re-read and was floored at the charge it made. keeping myself accountable on this. it is the very essence of my creation.

***

Although this is a small study by comparison, the implications are vast. There is a need to be met. There are real people; not just study subjects, that yearn for a break from the monotonous cycle of poverty - illiteracy - poverty. There are mothers; that may have had no choice to become mothers and now have no knowledge on how to raise a child. There are children; laboring in the fields to help provide for their family, yet missing the opportunity to become educated and to rise above the poverty they were born into. There are babies; dying of malnutrition and disease, simply because the communication of knowledge and information to the rural poor is inefficient. And there are teachers; those with a wealth of knowledge at their fingertips. Eager to use our talents, and skills, and passions. Perhaps, we lack the venue. Or the confidence. Or even are deaf to the calling. However; to whatever respect, we must do what we’ve been called to do: teach, serve, save. Research. Mobilize. “Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it,” (attributed to Mahatma Ghandi, unknown).

polluted

driving west into the sunrise this morning, i was in awe (and almost pain) with its enigmatic florescent crimson-orange glow as it crawled over the horizon slightly quicker than i managed to get myself out of bed. i remember long ago reading about how pollution often magnifies the vividness of the colors reflected from the sun as the light must travel longer distances the further the sun becomes from directly overhead.

i thought of how merciful it was that the Father can use pollution to ultimately magnify His beauty. that even at our ugliest, we can not disguise His awesomeness. we are never to far gone to be used.

Haitian Election

i've been desperate to blog today. and i've totally forgot what i was so eager to etch into the world-wide-web-twitterverse-facebooksphere. but i know it had to do with greatness. the following will be lackluster in comparison.

***

in another one of God's divine appointments, i've been placed at a wonderful school in which we have two custodians from haiti. lucita and pierre have lived here for 10 years after hailing from port-au-prince. each day, i have the blessing of speaking to each of them, in french, and about the on-goings in their country. i remember breaking the news to lucita about the cholera epidemic as reports slowly came out of the artibonite valley (in the same villages that ywam was working with to establish housing for internally displaced) about a quick-killing water-born disease.

this week, we've been speaking a lot about the state of affairs involving the election of a new president. with the former president in exile and unable to help rebuild a desperate nation after the devastating earthquake-- oh my gosh moment: almost a year ago already. WOW. i can't handle that-- the nation is in desperate need for a leader that is for the people and uninvolved in any corruption, etc. with many polling places filing reports of corruption, ballot stuffing, and all-out chaos, it did not surprise anyone when one of the run-off candidates (because no one won by a majority) was both not a front runner or favorite and related to former (and corrupt) president preval.

my heart breaks for a nation that has experienced SO much turmoil in a few short months. first, a devastating earthquake. then droughts and famine. next, hurricanes, floods, cholera. now riots and manifestations (i even typed that with the french accents in my head) and all hell breaking loose due to the rigged elections.

buried beneath the rubble of the earthquake and deep in their generational poverty, Haitians have long ago learned that they have no voice. who hears their cries? the cries of the people, the citizens, the dying malnourished? a country credited with the only successful slave revolt has its history deep-rooted in rebellion. who can blame them? when no one listens, and rebellion is the only way to get the attention of those in control, it seems like a logical step.

my prayer for haiti tonight is that they choose to be heard in their protests through peaceable assemblage; that they would not wreck havoc and violence on an already crippled country in the name of being heard. i pray that the Lord would hear their cries. that He would meet the corruption with justice, removing the chains from a nation that needs to reap in His already-granted Freedom.

maybe it's not supposed to feel right

i woke up this morning in a funk. aside from hormones, i'm not sure what to attribute it to. just yesterday, i was spending an extra 5 hours at school, working but feeling blessed until my spirits took a dive for depression-ville late last night.

i found myself trolling the web for stories of haiti, updates on friends there and elsewhere that i met during my time living in St. Marc. i found myself in tears at the words of others; words that resonated in my heart in ways that only words spoken by someone who gets it can.

i read a blog of a family that recently returned stateside after serving in haiti since 2006 (you can read (and cry) about them here in the original post). the wife, tara, makes the statement that home is everywhere, and nowhere. i totally feel that. since being back from haiti, i have had a sense of tension with being here. i've been back in nashville longer than i was even gone, and that tension is still unresolved. nashville is my home. i'm living in a nice house, working in a fabulous school, getting paid for using my degree, cooking in an equipped kitchen, using modern amenities like a/c, heat, washer/dryer and a dishwasher, driving my air-conditioned car 20 miles to work each day, and not covered in sweat when i wake up in the middle of the night. but something doesn't feel right. and that feeling won't dissipate.

she gets that. and eugene cho did too. en route to haiti while leaving his wife and kids in seattle, he wrote a blog post explaining the tension. cho says: "There’s this constant tension because I want it to feel right. I want them to feel right. I want to feel right…I want to be right. And maybe that’s the whole point. Maybe there’s something about following Christ that just doesn’t feel right. Or rather, how did we get duped into thinking that taking up the Cross felt right? Be encouraged my friends. If things aren’t “right with you,” maybe you’re in a good place…"

where did we get the notion that things were supposed to feel right? and when did we decide that being in a place where things didn't feel right was a bad place to be?

it is that tension that challenges us to live differently. to be different. as Tara says, "I think ... that living in this tension is part of what it feels like to always long for something more, something like Heaven."

i'll admit, the most difficult part for me in being back has been my interactions with friends. i am no longer the person i was, and it is hard for me to accept that they have not shared in those experiences with me. because of that, i get frustrated easily, and isolate myself or remove myself from conversation when it becomes sarcastic, offensive, or throws someone under the same bus they just crawled out from. in no way do i intend to sound holier-than-thou, and that is another stitch of tension i experience. my heart and mind have been radically broken and transformed, taught to seek to help and not harm, that i really struggle with just being "normal".

i'm left longing for more, longing for that piece of heaven. and cho is right. it won't "feel right." not until we are reunited with Christ as the full expression of who He created us to be in His image. in the meantime, it is up to us to flourish as we live out the lives we were created to live and the callings we are to fill here on earth. our calling may not be to a land or a people or even a career. but it is most certainly a calling to live for Christ, to become more like Him, and to serve and love one another.

for His glory

as i was getting a well-over-due pedicure yesterday evening, my sister texted me a sweet story about how her own well-groomed toes caught the attention of a sweet girl in line at Disney earlier that day. the girl, about 9 or 10, was very ill. hair-less and wheelchair-bound, she and her entourage wore pink shirts that read "team madeline." she complimented my sister on the design on her toes, and the two began to make small talk. madeline was a sweet girl from texas, and like many texans, told my sister that it was somewhere she needed to come visit.

after engaging in just a short conversation, my sister was heartbroken over this girl. she texted me the story and asked that i would pray for her. even though she has seen many sick children (her own best friend's daughter is still in a coma from a freak playground accident years ago), something was different about madeline. something that gave her chills and brought tears to her eyes. in the midst of her sickness, she was happy; and she was okay with being sick.

my sister told me the story and asked me to pray for madeline. she had been touched by her story, and wanted my prayers so that this little one would not die.

as i began to pray for dear madeline last night, i felt like the Lord revealed a lot to me in my unscripted prayer to Him. so often we question why young, innocent children have to suffer; why they don't get the shot at life that we have been so graciously given. as i interceded for healing on madeline's behalf, i realized how the glory of the Lord had come full-circle.

our God, the Lord and Creator of the universe, revealed to Abraham all of the stars in the sky. He knew exactly how many there are; He placed them there. we are told in the Bible that He knitted us in our mother's womb. He has numbered our breaths and the hairs on our head. He knows the perfect balance to our healthy body, and if He so chooses, He could breathe perfected life into Madeline's tiny frame.

but just as He's numbered our breaths, He also knows our hearts intimately. He knows what we can handle, and who can handle what. He knows that Madeline can, and is handling this, and with just grace and joy. and in that, she is touching the lives of unsuspecting strangers in line at a Disney theme park.

Illness and disease and pain are not how God intended for us to live, but they are consequences of the Fall; of the original sin that set us apart from God thousands or millions of years ago. sin entered this world to take the glory from God and we have constantly grappled with how to control it and destroy it without getting caught in it's death-grip.

this illness could have very easily, and in my mind, justifiably-so, left Madeline embittered and disenfranchised, even at her early age. but God has used the suffering of this little girl to bring joy to a fallen world, to bring others closer to Him, to even have my sister reach out for prayer. the glory is His.

as just such a small, finite part of the master-plan of an infinite God, our tiny brains do not have the capacity to understand the webbed-workings of His hand. to be honest, even if i could, i likely wouldn't choose to, because to understand the complexity of a God that manages the lives of billions of people that have been woven together through Him throughout history-- woah; i would not be able to leave my room trying to understand that majesty of it all. because of that, i know that i can not know why He chooses to work in the way He does. is it fair that Madeline or children around the world are sick and dying and don't get the same shot in life that we have been given? absolutely not. is it heartbreaking? even to the Lord, i'm certain. but even in all of it, i trust that He knows far better than i do. that His plans are purposed and righteous. would i be as courageous and joyful as precious Madeline? i certainly hope so; although i couldn't imagine much a tougher thing to do. above all, how we live and act and react is what brings glory to God; and in light of her situation, with only yesterday's flash-vignette of her joy-through-suffering, i would say she is doing just that.

i ask you as you read this, if you read this, to pray for Madeline. i don't know a thing about her, aside from she's very sick, from Texas, likes nail polish and has a radiating joy about her. pray for a miracle, pray for grace and mercy, pray for healing. and pray for strength, that no matter what may come of this situation, that she would have the courage and strength to remain joyful, that no scheme of the enemy could ever steal her joy.

haiti is not a place.

each sunday at church, our pastor's wife, kim, leads the congregation in prayer. her prayers, sensitive and sincere, are unlike any prayers i've ever heard. the gratitude with which she speaks, the sensitivity to the issue and to the Spirit are remarkable. i remember the first sunday night service i went to as a visitor. wrestling with a.d.d. and an anxious mind, her often long and thoughtful prayers were a challenge for my speeding mind to compete with. but i have grown to love our prayer time at TVC. its very rare for my eyes to remain dry after bringing the needs and the praises, the frustrations and the honest vulnerability of our church family before our loving and ever-present Father. but this morning, as kim prayed, lifting up the nation of haiti, i became undone.

you see, for me, haiti is not a distant country in which the idea of suffering and poverty come to the forefront of our mind at the mention of its name. it has not been reduced to a 4th-world nation, so corrupted and backwards and even primitive in some parts of its day-to-day life. it is more than a collapsed government, a desperate people-- rattled by disease and disaster, impoverished, bleeding, grieving, alone. it is not reduced to the images of fear and desperation, death and dying, that stream across our tv screens with a breaking news ticker reporting that more lives have been lost to earthquake/floods/cholera/hurricanes. and it certainly is not just another port-of-call on a spring cruise itinerary.

no; haiti is more than all of these things. for me, haiti is a place in my heart in which suffering was met with hope (relevant in the lives of the citizens as well as my own life). haiti is a closed-eye memory, greeted with a perma-grin, and left with salt-stained cheeks and a trail of tears so deep God might just have to call a second Noah. haiti was a season of my life in which the presence of the Lord was so thick, and my relationship was so strengthened and close that not the 80-degree sweaty nights nor the 100 degree-and-feverish days could rip my faith from His faithfulness.

haiti is a vision of a paradoxical paradise, paired with the evil sins and sufferings of hell. juxtaposed within a peripheral view of heart-melting sunsets over the caribbean is the sin of the world washed upon it's shores. its a place in which worth and value are found in extravagant love and relationship, not in what you have. a place in my life in which suffering for the Lord took on new meaning; and the same suffering that brought me to a sweet-spot in my faith, left me crying in surrender on the living room floor of our humble "apartment", begging for the Lord to take the cup. haiti is a dark pace of spiritual strongholds, where demons and voodoo are real and thick as the humidity; yet a place in which i experienced so much true freedom, even within the constraints that we were living. haiti is a place in which i felt the discipline of the Lord and His loving kindness in one fell swoop as He simultaneously bought me to my knees in humility and cradled me in his grace and mercy. haiti is a shooting star, witnessed by only a few lucky ones that happen to be gazing in the right direction at the perfect moment.

i lived in haiti for just 4 months; longer than most people would choose to sacrifice comfort in the name of God's glory, yet not long enough to make me feel like a true-blue missionary. regardless of your perspective on the length of time, i know how those 4 months radically reformed and shaped my faith and relationship with Jesus Christ. i returned stateside with a secured sense of His love for me and for His children. i came home with a discipline in seeking Him wholeheartedly. one that was challenged by the freedom from set schedules of corporate worship, intercession, or bible study; yet nonetheless spurring on a passion and longingness for the Lord that only increased my motivation to worship Him in "normal," daily life. haiti brought me back to the cross in a way that felt like rebirth; a sweet, sweet revival in my heart granting fresh hope in His faithfulness and provision.

maybe it is selfish: to think of haiti as how relevant it was to my faith, personally; and not the place of insurmountable devastation that it is made out to be (and rightfully so) in newscasts and mission-trip descriptions in church bulletins. i sincerely gave 4 months of service to a nation that desperately needed it; but what i received back from haiti was far more than 4 months of income or the time i invested seemed to be valued. i came back with no souvenirs; just the radiance of the Lord, the fragrance of His faithful provision, a deep-seeded passion after His face and His kingdom, and a love for a nation that needs love lavished upon them.

i often stand speechless about the things i experienced in my time there. the love, the beauty, the suffering. the relationships and eternal friendships that, unbeknownst to them, have irreversibly shaped my faith and life. the intimacy of the Holy Spirit, the power of the presence of the Most High. the pain of poverty, the devastation of disease, demons and death. yet, the Hope of nations. i've tried to talk about it, but i often find myself alone in my thoughts because its hard to relate to a situation you were not a part of.

it took an earthquake to reduce a nation to rubble, in order for it to grab the attention of the world. it took an earthquake to demolish my old foundations, and call me to a sturdy foundation, rooted in Christ's grace. i am humbled, and left in awe of His power.

haiti is not merely just a 4th-world nation. it is the revelation of God's love and mercy, so strong, that at the smallest memory, i am reduced to tears, prayers, and praise over a time of my life so formidable, that nothing aside from God's glory and blessing can i attribute as to why He chose me to go serve. as Kim prayed for this tiny nation this morning, i became undone. it was as if she was praying for my family, for generations before and after me, for my inheritance. the longer i am home, the more i realize how deeply connected i am with Haiti through the Kingdom of God. this is not a love affair with His creation. it is a partnership, in which the more I gave, the more of Him I received. haiti is not a place, nor a distant memory. haiti is a reminder of God's promises, fulfilled and yet to be seen.

blanc

reading my bible tonight was like looking back on a dated photograph, closing my eyes, and being ever present in the snapshot as it was unfolding.

1 peter 1:2 tells us that the epistle was written to foreigners dispersed in these western asian lands, missionaries. it was affirming them that they were placed in these spots, that God knows them and chose them. that they are made holy through the Spirit, and as a result, have obeyed the Lord.

softly closing my eyes, i'm laying on that foam-core mattress, surrounded by mosquito nets and 20 eager mosquitos hoping my elbow touches the net. i'm sweating, i'm frustrated, and i'm likely doubting. depending on the day, its highly possible i was crying; if not from exhaustion, from the sweet grace and mercy of the Lord.

and then i'm reading 1 Peter, and realizing how true this verse was for me. there I was; a foreigner. in this land that I was placed in. and because of my obedience, the Lord was cleansing me and making me holy. wow. revelation. such a sweet moment of affirmation that i was smack dab in the middle of God's plan for my life.

opening my eyes, smiling, and fighting back a joyful tear, i return to the Family Room, surrounded by 50 or so church members in our 5-week study on 1 Peter, here in Nashville. the room was warm, from the heater combatting the pre-winter temperatures. i smile, reminiscently on the scripture that once reminded me that I, a foreigner, was exactly where God intended; only this time, regretfully realizing it did not currently apply.

we are clouds

just the other evening, i was driving east.

unable to see the setting sun behind me in the west, i was still astonished by its beauty reflected in the clouds in front of me.

at that moment, i thought of how even when the Son is not in front of us, we can still see His glory.

i thought harder; there has to be a deeper life metaphor.

this morning, i got it.

we are to be the clouds.

to those that are not looking at the Son, we are to be the clouds.

His light should be reflected in us; His majesty, seen in us, by those facing us.

when others are turned away from Him, our visage should be nothing less than the magnificent glow of His glory.

walking with the father and conquering fears.

i don't know when i became so fearful. of failing. of dying. of losing my hair. of a host of other things. but this morning, it finally dawned on me, that of all the things that have been stressing me out or getting me down, its actually the fear of those things; a rather irrational one at that.

the bible talks a lot about fear, much of which i've commented before on as being a healthy, rational fear (or reverence) of the Lord. but the other type of fear is addressed briefly, and quite bluntly, in 1 John 4:18 -- "such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear." it continues to say in verse 19 that if we are afraid, it shows that we have yet to experience perfect love.

well, i'm far from perfect. so what is this love that john talks about? its certainly nothing i've been able to fully give nor receive. thats because this type of love, this perfect love, is the love of God the Father and is obtainable through God the Father. the verse prior tells us that "as we live in God, our love grows more perfect." what a great and comforting message for me, because i know i could sure use some perfecting.

because this perfect love has yet to be perfected in us, we give way to fear. we are born in the world after all. in my own personal opinion and experience, i've found that although fear is avoidable by putting our trust and hopes in the Lord (alone), we are hardly isolated from it and its ramifications. fear can be devastating. it can devour us whole, or leave us so chewed to shreds that we may wish that we had been. fear prevents us from taking on the task that God has given us, even causes us to forget what He has spoken to us...

... and this is why fear is the number one tool of the enemy. the enemy doesn't even have to attack or harm us, and he gets away with murder when he instills fear in our hearts. when we are fearful, everything suffers: from our emotions and interactions, to our productivity and output. fear prevents us from being, or doing, 100% of what God has called us to.

so, how do we combat that? through prayer, initially. john continues on to tell us in chapter 5 that "we are confident that he hears us, whenever we ask for anything that pleases Him. And since we know He hears us when we make our requests, we also know that He will give us anything that we ask for." I am so thankful that I live to serve a Heavenly Father that hears my cries and answers my prayers. He will deliver us from our fears if we just ask.

secondly, remember that part about "perfect love casting out all fear"? we arrive at a more perfect love by living in God and having our love grow more perfect. the more we choose to get to know God, the more we serve Him and love Him, our fears will decrease. our confidence and strength will be that of the Father's; and we will learn that the enemies tactics never hold any footing.

walking with the father and conquering fears.

my name is rhiannon, and i'm a hypochondriac.

i'm also afraid to go to sleep, because my throat feels like it's closing off. and now theres this sharp pain in my chest... where my heart is... and according to webmd, my intense headache is a brain aneurism waiting to happen.

i am fully convinced that there is something massively wrong with my body. i feel like i haven't felt totally well since i started having health issues in college 5 years ago. because of that, i've become fully convinced that there is something wrong. like that swollen lymph node at the base of my skull.

why are we driven by fear (the noun), to fear (the verb)? why are we so easily persuaded that just because we can't see anything wrong on the outside, that things are terribly catastrophic underneath the surface? where has our hope, our faith, gone? we are so quick to be rattled by fear, yet it takes so long (and often, so many attempts) to stand secure in the truth and faithful provision of our Father. why is that? why, when we've seen his provision and faithfulness time and time again, evident in our own lives and the lives of others, are we so quick to forget and become fearful?

"'til He returns, or calls me home, here in the pow'r of Christ I'll stand."

tonight, i cooked for the first time since i got hired. it was soul-fulfilling.

this weekend, i will blog. i promise. i don't want to lose all this newness; the freshness of my emotion and experience. one day, i'll want to remember the scents and sounds and imagery. this weekend. it will happen. because it is a three-day weekend; and one i will fully devote to myself. well, and the Lord. but just not school work.

amen.

body builder

ahh, saturday. at last. and not a saturday like last saturday, that involved lots of tears and goodbyes and shopping trips to walmart, the dollar tree, and the parent teacher store. but a lovely saturday that began 4 hours after my now-normal 5:45 a.m. wake up, with a pedicure, clean linens, laundry put away, and a fresh haircut (just a trim, nothing crazy. i gave up emotional cutting after high school).

on the way to the salon this afternoon, i spent some really good time in passionate prayer. i feel like its been a while since i've prayed with such passion an authority. after bathing some friends back home in prayer (be praying for my friends Tim and Sarah Jean Collins; Tim's father passed away sometime between Thursday and today, and his mom passed away after battling cancer just two months ago), and praying favor and blessing over my friends that just left Haiti, i began to really pray for myself.

this week has been tremendously hard. having to jump in in the middle of the first inning not knowing i was even on the roster has left me feeling completely underprepared and my confidence on the floor. i'm the first one there, last to leave; and i feel like i come home so empty from the day, and craving so much someone to share that with. so it's been really hard to say the least. but i began to really pray that the Lord would work through my brokenness, work through my stretching, the pain-- and then revelation fell. it was as if a concept, previously unknown, was placed right in the middle of my brain, suddenly snapping my eyes open to what God was saying.

the stretching, the tearing, the pain... it's a lot like muscle building. and right now, i'm building your heart. i'm increasing your capacity to lift more. it's not a season of brokenness, even. it's part of the process of strength training.

floored at the thought of this concept, i began to praising Him for the sweet revelation. for the confirmation that this too shall pass. for the affirmation that this is both essential in making me great, and only needed for a time. it was such a sweet moment when Jesus gave me exactly what i needed.

so today, isn't just like any other saturday. i came home with more than fresh toes, coiffed hair, and a clean toilet. i've got a fresh outlook reminding me that God is a God that loves me, and is taking care of me, and is holding my hand as i tread water, careful to never let me drown.

everything i know i've learned in kindergarten

ya'll. this week has been life changing.

wednesday, i got an email for a mass interview.

thursday, i interviewed and got called back in 30 minutes for another.

friday, i interviewed with a panel, and got called back in 30 minutes and was offered the job. an hour later, i had my key and saw my classroom.

saturday, i started setting up my classroom and making my (now daily) trips to walmart and the dollar store. i came home at 11 p.m.

sunday, i returned to finish my classroom, with help from a few friends (praise the Lord for that, too!).

monday, i started teaching.

and i feel as if that is how fast it has happened too. gosh, just the other day, i was shopping for an interview dress.

and tuesday came, with mental and emotional overload. the thoughts began to swirl: what if i couldn't get the hang of it? would i always spend 12+ hours a day at the school? how could i ever have a family? will i ever get to go to the gym? what if i don't like it? what if i fail?

as i bawled and sobbed on my way to school, and said all of my fears out loud, it was as if God used my own voice to tell me: "it will come." and in the midst of my tears, as what came from my mouth registered from in my ears, i began to sob more. thankful to know that it will come. i will get the hang of it. i will reach a point where i feel comfortable and confident. but the scary part is that its not any time soon.

the anguish subsided throughout the day, as i slowly got to a place where i at least felt ready for the next day (today). but that, too, subsided when i got home and began working on things and thinking about how much i didn't know; how i didn't want to fail at this. another breakdown; and thankful for good friends that are able to remind me of who I am and what I've been able to accomplish. Also thankful to just have an ear to cry to.

today went well. it was my first full day, and honestly, i'm quite pleased with it. there were moments my heart smiled. there were moments (the kissing hand) that my eyes welled with tears and i had to pause before i cried. and there were moments that i felt like everything is going to be alright.

i stayed at the school til about 6:20. i told myself i would leave when my desk was clean. that meant i had some filing to do, some hot gluing, sorting, updating email lists, you name it. as i left, not planned for tomorrow, nor with my centers all set up, i still felt like i was leaving accomplished. i felt like i was at a point that i could walk away. and sometimes, you just have to.

going over my notes from this very date last year in my K internship, i wrote down a quote from my favorite Kinder, Stokes: "But it's good to be nervous." underneath i had written an epiphany that comforted my heart, then and now: "it means you're taking a risk or facing a fear and hoping for something better."

i'm nervous alright.

(and i came home really strong, showered, got in bed to be mindless at 7:30, and here come the tears again. please pray.)

independently wealthy

in my current bout of waiting, you would think i would be blogging more; seeing as how my time is unlimited by hours of prepping a classroom, writing intricate lesson plans, or spent in professional development training. but as is most things with life, when you have the time, you don't do it. when you don't have the time, you find the time.

in my time in the word this morning, i decided to re-read some of my favorite passages. but this time, i read them in the Message Bible, a text i'm not fully familiar with, aside from the controversy of taking the literal and making it just practical. i loved the new light it shed on old, familiar text.

i was blown away by reading every loverbird's favorite chapter: 1 Corinthians 13. even thinking about the context it was written in (Paul addressing issues of dissension in the church; how to treat our brethren), i think it has strong implications for all of our daily interactions. i've posted it here for your convenience, and my historian personality.

If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
Love doesn’t strut,
Doesn’t have a swelled head,

Doesn’t force itself on others,
Isn’t always “me first,”
Doesn’t fly off the handle,
Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,

Doesn’t revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,

Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.Love never dies.

Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit.We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete.But when the Complete arrives, our incompletes will be canceled.When I was an infant at my mother’s breast, I gurgled and cooed like any infant. When I grew up, I left those infant ways for good.We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!

But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.

i am indefinitely blown away by the vivid imagery that this text evokes. rusty gates, burned martyr? we don't even begin to think of these things in our modern-day Christianity outside of formal scripture. but to honestly live with love, calling life without love bankrupt!? that part got me. knowing that all the credentials in the world mean nothing without love. that a swiss bank-account with a posted balance in the trillions would yield nothing without love?! we miss that, and we miss it by a huge margin most often.

to know that love puts up with anything, always trusts God ... wow! are we living this out as Christians right now? in our quarrels and silly, selfish wants, are we trying to take things into our own hands and out of the hands of the Almighty God that may have ordained our current situation just as it is? and we go and get frustrated with people: superiors/bosses/principals, HR departments, co-workers, friends, roomates, family, children, spouses or significant others. we say it's my way or the high-way. they need to apologize. i'm hurt, and i'm right, and i have the right to be hurt. no, no, NO! God did not design us to seek self-promotion (love isn't always me first-- nor does it say never me first, that's another post!). He designed us to live within the church or our Christian family as an illustration of His love for the world. to love unconditionally, to seek Him above all, and to serve humbly and with compassion. is there a clause about getting hurt in the process? nope. is there one about ruined first impressions, or neglected second chances? not that i can see here. love, true love for one another requires a selfless choice to say "no matter what." without having a background in statistics or any real way of measuring this, i would venture to say 90% of love is completely regardless of feelings. its a choice, just as paul describes it here.

many of us are familiar with this text from weddings or valentine's or marking a commitment in a romantic relationship; and although this is a wonderful example of unconditional love that is required in committed, romantic relationships, Paul was not giving marriage counsel to Mary and Joseph. he was addressing relationships, friendships, interactions among Christians! i am almost mad at myself for constantly missing the fullness of what this text means.

again, i re-read the end. simple passages that are often trimmed from the typical 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 faire: "Trust steadily in God; hope unswervingly, and love extravagantly."

wow. God is so good.

from the perspective of a raindrop

i didn't get the job. long story short: they loved me. the principal continued to rave over me during my highly-anticipated let-down courtesy call. thought i made a perfect match with the school, clicked well with the faculty. said they really, really, really liked me. wished they had another position to offer me immediately; but will hold onto my resume if anything comes up (and be encouraged, things do come up in August). but when it boiled down to it, i didn't have experience with International Baccalaureate, one of the other candidates did. no hard feelings, i just didn't have the experience they desired, and there is not one thing i could've done better to do that. disappointed, absolutely; but pleased, yes. i'm still pleased with the interview, and i know that yesterday's manna doesn't get us anywhere today, but at least i have a glimpse of hope.

***

with that said, i am still jobless. i've spent hours perusing the internet, checking Metro, Rutherford, Franklin Special and Williamson County districts. i've ran the gamut of private or religiously-affiliated school websites only to be left hopeless at the vacancy of vacancies on each employment phase.

i know the Lord has called me to teaching. i know its something i love and am good at. but times like right now, i wonder what the silence means. am i looking in the wrong states? wrong countries? wrong venues? i felt peace about being back in Nashville; but is it about feelings or about peace? i've begun to feel peace about the possibility of teaching in Florida, but i'm not certified there. since i've been back, i've learned to not lay claim to the present as permanent. it is all ephemeral; as unpredictable and temporal as the track of a raindrop to its destiny on the ground. but i'm reminded that that raindrop is integral for the growth of shrubs and brush, flowers and trees. it's only one small drop, but it is a necessary in absorption process of that plant, to grow to it's full destiny.

i just wish i knew which way the wind was blowing, where it would guide my path. would i land on a rooftop, only to flow down each roof tile, into the leaf-clogged gutters, and slowly make my way down through the waterspout, (to wash the spiders out, of course) to my life as a puddle? i don't know where my path leads, or if its even begun raining yet. but i know that the ground is my goal, that my life will be lived to help others grow.

***

i hold onto hope, and i know that both in my spiritual journey, as well as the one of my career, i am far from the finish line. Philippians 3:12-15 from the Message Bible reads: "I'm not saying that I have all this together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward-- toward Jesus. I'm off and I'm running-- and I'm not turning back."

reality check.

first, read: http://prayfordaisy.com/

then, cry.

next, discuss.

i am so challenged by the precious life of this little girl, and the suffering of her family. their faith in the bleakest of times moves me in a way i'm almost ashamed of. i ask that you would pray for her, for healing. for wholeness of her body. for the Lord to miraculous restore her health to what He designed it to be. and pray for her family, too. that their faith would increase. that each day would be another opportunity to praise the Lord for life and breath. that they would be able to stand before each other and the Lord and worship Him in light of their suffering. that others would be transformed by their faith and trust in God. that they would be comforted, and given peace that surpasses all understanding.

and pray for me, too. that i would learn that what i've endured is mild compared to the sufferings and trials and pain of others. that i would learn what it looks like to live a faith like Job. that even when hopeful situations drop me right back off at square-one's door step (i just got the call; they hired someone else), that my trust in the Lord and the truth of His Word would not falter based on circumstance.

dial tone

the last time i sat in such an intense anticipation of a phone call, it was a boy, and i was no likely older than 18. but at 25, i sit--reading, watching sermons, praying, pacing-- anything to take my mind off of the fact that in 30 minutes to 2 hours, my entire life could be radically changing. i will either go back to square one, trusting that the Lord is Lord and He has a plan for me; one that this 4th grade teaching position would keep me from. or i will be full-fledged-flung-forward, launching my career as a teacher; ending my 7-month hiatus (really, an entire year) from full-time, paid employment. this phone call could be the call that changes everything; or as Mat Kearney tells us, "we're all just one phone call from our knees."

either way, i am trusting that the Lord of Lords, my King, my God knows His plans for my future. and i know that all things work together for the good of those who love Him. job or no job, this works to lead me in pursuit of His will, all for His glory. even just going into the interview, i prayed that He would be glorified through it. that my stewardship of passion and knowledge and purpose would shine, as a testament to His glory.

and so, i wait. patient and eager, just like those phone calls from a million miles away. only difference is, this one is coming.

saving the world one dish at a time.

my biggest pet peeve when i was in Haiti was one of odd nature. after meals, each person was responsible for washing their trays and utensils and standing them up to dry for the next meal. it seemed as if every time i got through the wash line, there was a stack of wet dishes and forks laying in stagnant water. disgruntled, i'd re-rinse them, and fit them all into each little slot of the shelf. Many-a-time, i had to breathe deep and tell myself "you can not save the world by doing dishes." what i meant by this was that no one dies if the dishes aren't properly arranged. it doesn't reflect poorly on me if i do or don't take the time to fix everyone's mess at the end of the day. in essence: there is no use wasting my energy getting frustrated or irritated at the assumed lack of care of others.

this concept could go so many ways; even conflicting ones.

i'm just illustrating it because i found myself scrubbing away at the front of our white kitchen cabinets, realizing that i could scrub myself silly and be so peeved when it refused to come off, but when it boiled down to it, no one lives or dies based on the finger smudges on my cabinetry.

alternatively, this is not a post about being lazy, giving up, always picking up after others, being the change you wish to see in the world, or anything else as elaborately profound as those topics. nope, just a tirade against ooey-gooey finger prints and a moment reminisced.

currently on vacay in the mountains of maggie valley, NC! we're sitting at ingles getting internet to check on job postings, etc. (with no such luck) so i just wanted to update and let you know that my hiatus will continue until sunday!

love you all!

xoxo

new!

it has certainly been a while since i've updated. being home (in Nashville) has certainly been both relaxing and exhausting. there have been moments that i have felt so renewed by the presence of the Lord (here and in my life) and so distant from the intimacy that i felt certain times in my time in Haiti. i came back into a strange season; not one that felt like the waiting period i experienced prior to leaving for Haiti, but similar in the nature of waiting, for who knows what's next. it's not a wilderness season, where i am wondering aimlessly, searching for the Lord. it's an odd season of contentment; where the more still i sit, the more i find myself. i've rediscovered (as if it was ever lost) my joy of cooking and entertaining (thank you Jesus for both the passion and the talent!). i've found a simple peace sitting in front of my singer sewing machine, stitching away at a hostess apron, after spending an hour picking out the most complimentary patterns. i've tasted bitter defeat by way of sour-cream-and-chocolate icing, or an icing recipe that calls for a pound and a half of butter (most of which spread out over the cake stand it was so runny!).

spending the past two weeks back in nashville, unemployed-but-eagerly-looking (i prefer to use the term interning as a domestic housewife to unemployed, it sounds much better!), i've realized that, for perhaps the first time in my life, i am doing exactly what it is that i want to do. i'm cleaning. i'm cooking. i'm developing new recipes. i'm finding what i like, what i don't like, what works for me. i'm working out (to help compensate for all the baking). i'm hosting dinner for my friends and roommates, and even wearing my new homemade apron.

it sounds simple. to some, it probably sounds a bore. but to me, it sounds like i am practicing for what i want to do for the rest of my life, and enjoying it. sure, i don't have a job right now, and that's not realistic as a recent college grad with student loans peeking around the corner. but i did just get back from working for 4 months, without a paycheck, because i chose to do both what i love and what God has called me to. so i feel as if this season God has brought me back into is reminding me of the things that i do love and desire for my life, and allowing me to enjoy them, as they were meant to be. this may seem obvious to you, or completely irrelevant. but for me, it's revelatory.

only God knows what is next. and to be honest, only He can orchestrate it. i've done what i could: applications in to 6 counties/districts. applied to 60+ positions (40 of which in metro alone). resumes to principles across the greater Nashville area. even a potential "back-up plan" across the pond if i'm unable to get a teaching job this year. i don't feel careless by saying that God will make the next move; i feel confident in putting my trust in Him to do so. this in-between time, i feel as if He has so precariously detailed for me to relish in, to relish in Him in.

and tomorrow, i leave for vacation. a week with my best friends in the mountains. the mannings, the smiths. shelley, carly, christina, lauren, james, kerry, caleb, and even jackie as of a few minutes ago. no cell service and no internet. high in the low 70s, and lots of drizzly skies. deep conversation, meditation, solitude. i can't wait to sob with the rain, to breathe freedom in with the fresh mountain air. i'm excited to have nothing pressing to-do, nothing taking precedence over just seeking the Lord and sharing in fellowship with my brothers and sisters.

praising God for what He is doing, even just in allowing me the time and freedom to soak in His love and joy. praising Him for being faithful and provisional, even when i have no inkling as to what lies next for me.

i am so eager to share this new journey with you, too.

so in honor of new, i've revamped my blog to include all the new things that the Lord is growing me in (which you'll have the power to choose to read or not read the other avenues). i am expanding my blog to include one on cooking, photography, sewing/creations, teaching/classroom ideas (assuming i get one!), and just every day life. my homepage with be:

www.RhiannonDean07.blogspot.com

and from there, you will be able to navigate via tabs to:
www.RhiannonDean07-food.blogspot.com
www.RhiannonDean07-sew.blogspot.com
www.RhiannonDean07-photo.blogspot.com
and even this blog at: www.RhiannonDean07-Haiti.blogspot.com

and with that said: thank you. Thank you for walking through this journey from start to finish with me. For following faithfully. for your prayers, your encouragement, your support. for your love and the motivation to get through. thank you for all you've generously offered me, and for seeing me through the entire process that was Haiti. i'm both sad and excited to see that chapter in life come to a close. it only means that God has something new in store, and His inventory is definitely the best.

disruption ahead, pack accordingly.

(disclaimer: i'm so frustrated that i just typed out a long, inspired post, only to press publish and to realize, i wasn't connected to the internet. it ate it. i am sad! this second version does not even remotely do it justice!)

if you've ever lived out of a suitcase, you probably agree that it isn't the most comfortable way to enjoy a trip away from (or in my case, to) home. especially when that bag has been precisely packed and weighed, with the smallest yet heaviest items in the carry-on (which has to be small, but doesn't get weighed), and the larger, more fluffy items in the checked bag (the only one you're permitted, might i add; that has a ton of room, but a weight limit you've already exceeded). every item has been folded, rolled, or stuffed in a specific spot not to throw the balance or weight distribution in the slightest. i managed to pack every combination of shirts/shorts/capris and sandals so that each can be mix-matched for their maximum utility and minimum laundry and space consumption. i packed every which way til Sunday. i had meticulously created lists and packed for days before leaving. i thought i had every angle covered: teach. beach. sleep. market. even dress up. what i didn't see coming was that i packed for the four-month forecast of 95 and rainy; and what i've got is a spare week of 50s and wind.

Man's heart plans his steps, but the Lord directs his path (Proverbs 16:9)

i think this serves far more relevance than just packing. i'm talking preparation on a much grander level.

we can plan and organize and pack and prepare 'til our heart's content, but all of that is thrown out that summer window when God's path leads us on a little detour, or even an unexpected adventure. but it doesn't come as a surprise to Him. our plans and His sometimes don't align. Often times, they don't even speak the same language. We think we've got it all covered, but then God throws a curveball by way of a what-if-we're-not-talking-about-Haiti pitch, and we're standing at the plate completely bewildered. we've been preparing for something even in committing our work to the Lord (16:3) and something goes invariably different than expected. He, for whatever reason, can, and often will, change our weather-- or thoughts, beliefs, actions, opportunity, or situation-- and we are left deciding how to respond.

we can choose to just not go outside in the unseasonably cool florida winter, or we can outfit ourselves using what we've planned, prepared for, or packed. so, i've learned to improvise. no one hardly noticed that i re-wore my teal g. harv. shirt today when its out-at-sea silhouette was hidden underneath my staple navy cardigan, which was also a re-wear ... along with the only pair of jeans i've brought. okay, so i've worn that long, flowy, red jersey dress two days in a row. its called, versatility. i've learned that the jeans may not be the trendiest way, but they are faithful and i know they will cut the chill. and simple staple tee's can be layered with truth and faithfulness, wrapped in an open-mind and flexibility.

above all, the Lord is faithful. even when we feel that we've packed for the wrong weather, we are able to see that even through the (ill-fit) planning, he prepared us with the know-how to mix-and-match to make it work. afterall, he's not going to lead us into snow in flip-flops alone.

all that i can say

so my last post is a song, by the david crowder band called all that i can say. its a simple song, that really spoke to me during my waiting period. i wish i would've posted it then because the emotion tied to it would've been so much stronger.

Lord i'm tired,

so tired of walking

and Lord, i'm so alone

Lord the dark

is creepin' in

creeping up to swallow me

i think i'll stop and rest here a while

this is all that i can say right now

and this is all that i can give

and this is all that i can say right now

and this is all that i can give

thats my everything

and didn't you see me crying,

and didn't you hear me call Your name?

wasn't it You i gave my heart to?

wish You'd remember where you set it down

and this is all, this is all that i can say right now

i know it's not much

but this is all that i can give

and thats my everything

this is all that i can say right now,

right now, i know it's not much

this is all that i can give,

yeah thats my everything.

i didn't notice you standing there

i didn't know that was You holding me

i didn't notice You were crying too

i didn't know that was You washing my feet

and this is all that i can say right now

i know its not much

and this is all that i can give

yeah thats my everything

this is all that i can say right now;

right now, i know its not much

this is all that i can give,

yeah thats my everything.

***

i love the progression of this song. i love the hurt and weariness that you can hear. walking with the Lord, especially in times of pain and loss and uncertainty, is hard; fatiguing. there were some days, i would just bawl to the Lord and say, this is all i have to offer, please accept it. and just fall asleep on the lap of the Lord crying.

looking back, i feel like i'm at the end of the song singing that last verse. that i didn't notice that in the stillness, God was right there, rocking me to sleep, sharing in my tears. i love that image of such a comforting Father. He doesn't like to see his children hurt or suffer heartbreak or struggle or feel broken. but, in that He is able to teach us so much if we're only willing to submit to Him and listen.

everyday we face heartbreak and struggles and pain and brokenness. but what can we take from it? how can we bring glory to God through it if we refuse to learn from it? if it becomes just about making ourselves feel better then we're off chasing the next fleeting happiness. but if in our times of pain, we look and seek the Lord's face, we'll recognize that he is with us through that time. crying with us. loving us. showing us that with Him, our strength is unrivaled, and we truly can do anything through Christ.

and that is all that i can say.

Listen to rhiannondean07s Playlist

seeing the forest through the trees

hi friends. i feel like i've been lacking on keeping up with my blog this week! there has just been SO much going on! and also, i've started a blog that is specifically haiti only, so make sure you check that out too. you can find it here. i wanted to sort of keep these two blogs separate; as this one is a little more personal, and i couldn't imagine all of my family catching up on my month-'o-misery and asking me all sorts of questions. but all of you are okay :)

i can't say it enough, how blessed i have been by your generosity and encouragement. so thank you thank you thank you! your kind words have meant the world to me. thank you for backing me through this and letting me talk your ear off about it, and for sharing in my excitement and for praying for me.

***

now for a little less-haiti post.

***

even though i went to church last night at fellowship bible, i still felt it really important to go to my new church this morning. it has been a while since i last went between the holidays, snowed in days, and not up-to-par days. so i've really been craving it.

at the village chapel we read through books of the Bible, and since i've been attending in October, we've been reading our way through the book of Acts. in today's message, pastor jim stressed how the book of acts is a historical narrative, so we must not mistake it for prose or prophecy. i love how he gives us so much background, cross-check factual information. it makes the history part of it so much easier for me to process. in our dissection of Acts 25, he said he really had a hard time coming up with the bible study portion of it. the entire chapter does not even mention God. it only mentions Jesus, once, in passing reference to him as the dead guy.

so the first-third of pastor jims message was on God's Providence in His apparent absence (paraphrase, my own; my scripture notes are in the car; its raining and i'm in bed. they will stay in the car). after noting biblical instances in where God's absence was real, we went through a plethora of Psalms, in which the authors were crying out for God's presence within their waiting time.

i could feel the pain and the hurt in their cries. i just endured that. i know exactly what they were feeling. leaning on the Lord for patience and trying to learn His purpose in their standstill. i've never felt so sympathetic to the one writing the scriptures before. but, at the same time, i felt like my cries this month have mimicked them, that i could've been equally responsible for writing them.

after psalms, pastor jim displayed a quote from jon bloom, a well-known christian theologian. what i love about TVC is that everything is cross-referenced. whether it be scripture with other historical accounts, or even theology versus intellectuals; they always give more depth through dimension. (side-note; offering a two-part class this week and next on the intersection of faith and reason. i so wish james could be here to see that as i feel like its right up his alley! ah i love that this church values the bible as the word of God and us as the creation of God! i seriously can't get over how much truth, and even how much reason is reflected within that truth; but all of that is an entire different post; just saying, i love my church!)

okay; where was i? pre-tangent? ... oh yes. jon bloom. from his desiring God, bloom writes:

In following Jesus there are seasons of bewildering intensity and seasons of bewildering waiting. He does not want us to panic during either. Jesus is in control of both. When you don’t understand him, trust in his promises. And when you’re not sure what to do next, do the next thing.

i wish i had had a crash course in this bloom-ology prior to going through my season of bewildering waiting. it would've been great prep to know that i'm not the only one, i shouldn't panic. God's in control, i just need to trust his promises and keep moving. even if i just have had a warning that flashed "now entering a season of bewildering waiting," i feel like i wouldve been much better off. especially coming down off the the bullet-train that was last semester, it was both the last thing i had expected and the last thing i had prepared for. i did not know how to deal with the waiting period, but God led me through it. and quite magnificently, i might add.

i know i may not necessarily be out of the woods yet, by any means. but i can see more than just the trees. at church today, i felt as if the short message about the waiting period was a summary of what life has been like for the last month and a half. and at that point it dawned on me, that i think i came out, and i know i'm alive. i felt as if that was a period i'm no longer in, that i was able to look back on. i don't know how i managed to emerge, except for the strength and direction of the Lord and the encouragement he's put in those surrounding me. does it mean that the hurt is gone? not at all. does it mean that its going to be easy? nope. does it mean i wouldn't be happy or even under God's will with a job teaching kindergarten at crieve hall, an amazing boyfriend, and thoughts of a wonderful future, living life as the way i thought it was to be? absolutely not.

but God had a different plan and a different purpose. and that required wait. it required patience. and it required preparation. of my heart, of His plans, of my ability to align my will with His. this is the beginning of a journey that will last through the next four months, but the longevity of the implications, learned even in just this waiting time, will remain with me long after i return to nashville at the end of june.

so i encourage you. read back on the beginning of this blog, and feel the hurt. its not gone, but i'm able to separate it from how i am to keep living to bring the most glory to the Lord. i cry for the first time in a few days just writing this even, so i can't claim that i'm going to be pain-free. in fact, i know that my mind is preoccupied with this final week of nashville and taking care of details that its able to overlook that pain. but the pain and the loss and the emptiness and loneliness and confusion and longing; they will all return with a vengeance when i get to haiti and things settle down and culture shock catches up with me. but i think that God has prepared me for that. i think all of this has prepared me to seek him in my hurt. to know that through my trials, i am able to bring him glory; possibly more than through my successes.

Therefore, since we have been made right in God's sight by faith, we have peace with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us. Because of our faith, Christ has brought us into this place of undeserved privilege where we now stand, and we confidently and joyfully look forward to sharing God's glory. We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love. --Romans 5:1-5