One day...

One day, there will be a day when I leave my house and I don't fear the judgment of the cars around me or the friend on the other line. This day, I can shop and eat and hike with no fear of contamination or exposure.

One day, we will walk the halls of our respective work- schools, offices, stores, ministries, and more- with a pep in our step and a gratefulness for the people around us. Our district experienced this at the beginning of the year after our strike, and our building experienced it at a deeper level after the loss of our coworker at the same time. Friends, when that moment is over, remember how you feel. That gratitude could change your world.

One day, I will sit on the couch of my two dearest friends and hold their twin girls. Note that these two couches are different- I'm scared for what was in the water at my wedding! I will snuggle Audrey and Hazel and Jemma and Evie and be so dang grateful that I actually get to hold them in the flesh. While I anxiously await the day that the snuggling happens on my own couch, I am finding gratitude in the fact that I am not anxiously navigating pregnancy and COVID-19 at the same time.

One day, we will celebrate the anniversaries and birthdays that got pushed to the wayside. We will hug our students, go to happy hour with our friends, meet with our small groups, and buy all the damn toilet paper and eggs that we want.

 

But right now...

Right now, we dig in where we're at. We become professionals at using Zoom and we get in WAY over our heads with our big doe-eyes and our Pinterest-inspired remodel projects (read: Kathy attempts to paint the whole house by herself because social distancing is a thing and she has a meltdown by Day 3). We use Walmart grocery pick-up and we realize that the high school shelf-stockers at the store have become some of our most valued, brave, and under-appreciated members of society. We drop things off on the porch of our friends and we wave from the car because it's all we can do. We play some Mario Kart, go on an excessive number of walks, do Barre and yoga and Peleton and all the other online workouts that are suddenly available... and then we mourn all the things we're missing. This space is holy and healing, but it's also HARD.

In the midst of it all, people are SICK. While we live in our altered realities, they live in theirs- and we have to know that at any point, they could be us and we could be them. Will I forever regret that trip to Home Depot or Target? Did I get too close to someone on a walk? Should I have kept the cookies for myself? We feel frustrated because our lives look different, but this is all so trivial to the fact the people are losing their lives from a virus that seemingly can't be contained. How do we hold both realities in our hand, knowing that we are so lucky but also so not?

Ultimately, I write this from a place of privilege. While I have a job that allows me to stay at home and still receive pay, I know that this is not the reality for many. It feels as though there are so many needs right in front of me and I know how to meet very few of them. I think about my students, both current and former, for whom this is not the case... Are they eating? Are their parents angry because they are stressed? Do they still know that they are loved? In this season, I don't get the option of knowing any of these answers.

There are so many quotes around and quips of encouragement that are meant to put us at ease in this time of uncertainty. While I appreciate the sentiment and even believe them to (typically) be true, a "quick fix" of truth is not what I need in this time. I need to sit, wrestle, and grieve through it all. I need to be grateful for this time and simultaneously pained for what it took to get it. I need to trust that God knows what He's doing, but not let that take away the reality that it's still hard and scary as hell. I need to wake up and face the day- one day at a time- grateful for my health, connected to my people, and with a reality that if life hurts, that probably means we're doing it right. Ultimately, I need to know that this is so much bigger than me- it always has been and it always will be.

Dear High School Friends

*Written in 2016.... it all stands true today.

Dear High School Friends of mine,
Last night I watched you nervously check your shoes, jacket, and purses at the door as you tried to navigate a new homecoming experience. As we handed you a ticket, you held your head high, even when it felt scary, as you headed out to the dance floor surrounded by hundreds of your peers. Your makeup, your hair, your dress, your suit... All of it perfectly placed and ready to impress.

Last night I watched you kiss your boyfriends and hold hands nervously with your date and eye the couples around you. I watched the friend check her items seperately from the couple she walked in with. I watched young men mortified by the choices they made as the administrators asked them to leave. I expected defiance, but what I saw in your eyes was shame. Friends, shame was never supposed to be a part of our equation.

Sweet friends of mine, this night broke my heart in ways I wasn't expecting. As you left, your YL leaders whispered "Make good choices!" behind you. Not because it's what we always did, but because we know the pain and shame when we didn't. I worried as I saw the eyes of the girls who were more nervous at the end of the night than they were at the beginning. All they want is sleep, but will her date ask for more?

Oh, friends. How I wish I could bundle you all up tightly and whisper to you how loved you are. How cherished you are by the One who made you. I wish I could give you the courage to say "no" when the words feel heavy on your lips. I wish I could reassure you that your worth is not dependent on how you look or what you do, but solely on what Jesus did for you. I wish I could tell you how proud I am that you came to dance with your girlfriends and just enjoy life together, regardless of whether you had dates or not. I wish I could tell you how proud I am for giving him/her a chance as your date, having fun and laughing the whole night, even when things didn't go perfectly. I wish I could help you pick up the pieces in the morning, as you realize that last night ended with choices you wish you hadn't made. Oh how I wish...

More than anything, my wish for you is that in the midst of it all- the start of a new school year, big transitions in life, choices you did or didn't make, the joys and the sorrows of daily life, what homecoming night held for you- is that you would realize you are being pursued by Love himself. That each and every day, you would would find a truer and more beautiful version of yourself. The princess that you felt like on Homecoming night is how Jesus sees you each and every day, even in our darkest moments and heaviest mornings.

Love,
Your Young Life Leader

World Changers.

Hello, fellow World Changer. I want you to know something today. And every day. And don't forget to remember these things about the people around you, too.

One Sunday a month I get the privilege of serving in our Sunday School room for kids with special needs at church. Sometimes we have 2-3 kids come, sometimes we have 1, and sometimes we have none. Today was a none day. But I sat and waited, hoping that one of my little friends would come and visit me so that we could play with trains or puzzles or bouncy balls or whatever else they felt like playing with in that moment. As I wait for these little guys to show, I tend to sit and pray over them and their families. This morning, I was praying for one of our kids who had a major surgery around Thanksgiving and is still recovering. I was thinking of him and his life, the way that most people would see all the things he can't do and yet his family chooses to see the joy that he brings to his life. I caught myself speaking these words to God...

"I fully believe that these guys are world changers. Not because of what they do, but simply because of who they are."

And I stopped.

This is what lead me to a faith in Jesus in the first place. I saw the way my brother, Matthew, had changed my life and I NEEDED to know why. I needed an answer for why my family would go through this. I needed an answer for why I felt so passionately called to a career in the field of special education. Since then, I have seen this population of people, my students and campers and friends and those I meet on the street, change the lives of people around them by teaching lessons that NO ONE ELSE could teach on purpose. They teach me every day simply by being who they are. It is the sweetest, most simple blessing I could ask for.

But my train of thought didn't stop there...

What if I was willing to believe that about ME? About my friends and co-workers? What if that was how I viewed baristas and salespeople and the people who get under my skin and the homeless man in the Walmart parking lot?

Let me think on those words again...

"I fully believe that these guys (you, me, all of us) are world changers. Not because of what they (we) do, but simply because of who they (we) are."

I think these are words that Jesus would pray about me. You. ALL OF US. No matter who we are, He says "You are the light of the world (Matthew 5:14)." What he doesn't say is "If you do the right things, your light will probably shine to others." No. You ARE the light simply because of WHO YOU ARE in Me. There is nothing you can do to shine a little brighter or to lose a little of your glow--- your being IS LIGHT.

He says "Good people bring good things out of the good stored up in them (Luke 6:45)" We don't bring good things to this world by working hard or having the right conversations or loving on the right people. WE ARE THE GOOD. The good of Jesus is ingrained so deeply in us, ALL OF US, that NO ONE CAN CHANGE IT and good overflows from our hearts into this beautifully broken world.

He tells us that "...all who have faith in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these." In my Bible, I have "GREATER things?! Than Jesus?!" scribbled in the margin next to this verse. There are people of all races and abilities and ages and sizes and ethnicity and walks of life who believe in this great Jesus, and all of those people get to read these words. This goes for me, for the President, for a preschooler with Down Syndrome, for an adult working retail. Jesus truly believes that WE WILL ALL DO GREATER THINGS THAN HE DID. All these people, all over the world, for the last 2000 years and for all the years to come.  These things that we will do-- they don't make us better people. They don't give us more light or more good or more grace or more salvation, They are a result of the good that is inside us. To us, these things might not look like greater things than walking on water or turning water into wine or healing someone who has been paralyzed his whole life.  But...

"I fully believe that we, ALL PEOPLE, are world changers. Not because of what we do, but simply because of who we are."

When you smile at your baby as she comes home from the hospital, you are changing the world. Someone is seeing that and soaking up the love radiating from your being. When you say "Thank you" to the clerk in the grocery store out of habit, someone is taken aback that people still do and say polite things. They feel a little nudge to do the same, even if they don't work up the courage to do it quite yet. When it feels like all you do is go to school and come home and watch Netflix while eating ice cream, you can trust that your life, simply by being, is and has been and will be changing the world. People are watching and learning and growing from YOU, not because of what you do but simply because of who you are and the ways you naturally encourage people to love themselves and others and God.

Everything in our world tells us that we are not enough. We need more makeup on because our face doesn't yet look like a doll. We need new shoes and boots and pants and socks and sweaters and everything else because somehow, our entire closet and dresser full of clothes isn't enough. We need a fancier iPhone because it could be 1/8" thinner and run .174 seconds faster, so naturally that's justification for spending exorbitant amounts of money on a new one. We need to lose 15 pounds because even though that entire closet of clothes still fits you, they are a little more snug than they used to be and Megan Trainor's song is catchy but not yet something we're actually willing to believe (because "Mama, she told me 'Don't worry about your size'" and "Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top" would just be too easy to actually take to heart...).

Normally, I don't get worked up about too many things. But today, THAT MAKES ME SO MAD. Mad for my middle schoolers who have these thoughts pushed into their face every day. Mad for my students who are so deeply misunderstood by so many. Mad for myself and my friends, as New Years resolutions are being thrown around like confetti because somehow, this world keeps convincing even the most level-headed and down-to-earth people that they need to do more to be enough.

Today I say to you, YOU CANNOT DO MORE. Which is awesome, because that means that YOU ARE ALREADY ENOUGH! Your presence in this world is enough to shape the lives of those around you, and sometimes that is all we can ask from ourselves on a daily basis!

Step 1: Show up.
Step 2: Change the world just a tiny bit because you did show up.
Step 3: Sleep & repeat.

I am so thankful for a God that loves us and encourages us as we are, not because of what we do. I am so thankful for a God who meets us where we are and walks with us freely, in the mess and muck and grime of our lives. "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith-- and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God-- not by works, so that no one can boast." HALLELUJAH, WHAT A SAVIOR! Boasting is exhausting, and so is working. So stop. Breathe. And BE. That is enough.

Today, I hope you can find freedom in the fact that YOU are a world changer, because you are fearfully and wonderfully made to be light and hope and joy and all things good. YOU ARE GOOD because Jesus is SO GOOD. When the world tells you that you need to do or think or say or work more, remember that you showing up for Life every day is enough. More than enough. You showing up for life every day is changing the world. So thank you for showing up today. Keep at it, friend.

Love,
Your partner in world-changing crime.

Happy Holidays!

Holiday season is a beautiful time for catching up with old friends, seeing faces that haven't been around for a while, and reminiscing on the memories of the last year. I love the Christmas season and all of the joy and anticipation that it brings-- beautiful lights, gift-giving cheer, generosity from those who aren't usually moved in that way, and the sweet reminders of why we celebrate this season in the first place. As I have seen people over the last few weeks, I am being constantly reminded of the beauty of the season I am in and the ways God is moving, filling, and reassuring me.

A few Fridays ago, I was alone in my classroom for the afternoon during conference time. Teachers were bustling around the school meeting with parents, preparing for the next week, and eagerly looking forward to the Thanksgiving break ahead. For once, my classroom was quiet. Peaceful. And all I can remember thinking to myself is "This is a season I am going to look back on and want back."

School isn't perfect, but there are actually large chunks of fun in every day. Last year, I never. ever. in a million years. would have said that consistently. But Kendra reminds me of it often... this year has been really different, in a great way. I have HARD students, don't get me wrong. I love them all to pieces, but each of them is in their own little place on the autism spectrum and they push my buttons in their sassy and innocent ways, whether they try to or not. They say the darnedest things, such as "Boy would I!" and "This tastes adorable in my mouth!" and they drive each other mad all the time. But they also give you the funniest facial expressions and come running over so concerned when you say "My ears are bleeding!" because another little one was screaming at the top of their lungs in the highest pitch you could ever imagine. Their hearts are so good because they are so perfectly created, even in their imperfections. But then again, that's all they could say about me too. Created so beautifully imperfect. And in the transition between schools. God has been so faithful. I asked a lot of "Why?" questions, knowing that answers had to be there somewhere but really not understanding why I was being picked up from a place that I had grown to love and put into yet another new school environment, my third in three years. But my new staff has been nothing short of amazing, and I am learning that my "why?" questions might just have to be changed into "Why not?". He knows why.

WyldLife might be pretty close to perfect. Ok, that's not totally true, but the amount of love I have for these 6th-8th graders is a little ridiculous. I am seeing amazing fruit come out of my time coaching volleyball at the middle school this fall and it has been so fun to keep up with those girls and get to see them in a more relaxed setting. We are building incredible relationships with parents who are allowing groups of middle schoolers into their homes to read the Word and spend time with each other and walk with us leaders through this crazy thing called Life. We are overjoyed at a new teacher contact within Horse Heaven Hills and the opportunities that having her in our lives will bring for these kids. We get to send leaders in to eat lunch with our students and love on them in their natural environment-- the whole heart behind the ministry of YoungLife. We have a consistent, growing, AMAZING group of dedicated kids who are coming week after week to be loved on and laughed with and even tormented a little while they drink blended Thanksgiving dinner and have marshmallows covered in mustard dropped into their mouths. They are so brave, both with their actions and their words. I am so humbled to know and lead them.

This fall has been a season of traveling to Spokane quite often, friends moving to far away places, beginning to coach club volleyball for the first time, and settling into Year 2 in the Tri-Cities. It has brought new adventures, new people, and new perspective on the life I am living here. While I still long for the red dirt and bright smiles of my Ghanaian home, I am also striving to live a beautifully broken life here in the good ol' US of A as well. I am continuously humbled by a God who cares about things like getting kids to camp and connections between a coach and her players. But I also know that this season will pass, and I will get deeper into the mess that is life, remembering that "Thankfulness is not some sort of magic formula; iti s the language of Love, which enables you to communicate intimately with Me. A thankful mindset does not entail a denial of reality with its plethora of problems. Instead, it rejoices in Me, your savior, in the midst of trials and tribulations. I am your refuge and strength, an ever-present and well-proved help in trouble" (Jesus Calling, 11/22). Until then, and through then, I rejoice. A savior is born.

Merry Christmas, dear friends.

Magical Monday.

Today as I sat on the ground next to our snack cupboard, my heart hurt as I watched my sweet "I" cry, using his broken words and sign language to ask me for more candy. "First art, then candy" I repeat to him, though the desire in his eyes pierces me.

Before I realize what's happening, "N" has turned around in his (my) swivel chair, and wraps his arms around "I". Not in the gruff, frustrated way that I expected, but in a sweet, tender way... "Oh, come here!" he says. I look up at the two boys, ages 7 and 9, not yet realizing how sweet this moment would be. With genuine concern in his eyes, "N" aims to settle "I"... "You need to calm down... Take deep breaths!" With that, "N" tries to get him to breathe... Inhaling and exhaling himself, though "I" seems to take no notice.

I was brought to tears instantly... This boy has been fighting us, struggling to make the right choices, refusing to cooperate... Yet his heart is so gentle.

Today, my classroom was (relatively) quiet. That NEVER happens... and you would need to witness a typical day with my (usually... sometimes... kind of) sweet kiddos to treasure the quiet as much as we did. I am humbled by the way my kids served each other today... Sometimes it was with a desire to earn fruit snacks and other times it was so that they could get to a preferred activity sooner, but they still did it. Again, that never happens... and I am thankful. I'll leave out the part about my 6 year old saying he "hates" things or that "this is BS" (though he definitely doesn't abbreviate!) 32 times in a 15-minute work session... Today, that part's not important. There was love in my classroom... and that's the best Monday I could have asked for!

"God loves you the same."

This week, I received five letters from precious little souls who live halfway around the world from me. As someone whose love language includes the written word, these letters were tools to both fill me up and allow tears to come crashing down upon me. I miss them... so much.

But there was a line that stuck with me. Sweet Grace, 16 years old, was thanking me for the time I spent in Ghana last year, and she told me "Thank you for loving us. God loves you the same."

So simple... Yet how quickly I forget.

I know how much I adore these children... I am not a parent and while I hope to be some day, I know there is a love that cannot be matched outside of parenting... But this love that I do feel, whatever kind it may be, is still consuming... powerful... strong... It makes me weep as I yearn to be back with their sweet souls. I long for all 41 children I lived with to know how deeply I love them and how much I want the best for them. I want Florence to know how deeply the pain in her eyes pierces my heart every time I look at the pictures from the day I left. How badly I wish I could just bring her home with me... Yet I know that God has a greater plan for her in Ghana. I want the older kids to know that regardless of their past or lies that have been said about then or pain that they continue to work through, they are beautiful in my eyes and have so much to live for. I want them all to know how deeply I love them.

And then Grace's words sink in... "God loves you the same."

In this case, it means that God wants all these things and more... for me. The Psalms tell me that he wants to grant the desires of my heart... To guide me down a path of righteousness... To set me free from my past... To lead me to a place of rest and worship... He wants me to trust this His plans are good...

He wants me to remember that He loves me the same. I can only imagine how strong that Love must be...

So thankful for the beautiful, wise Grace!

Volleyball.

At the top of this blog, I have a quote from Alan Cohen: "It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.”

I found this quote during my sophomore year of college when I wanted to quit the volleyball team. I posted it on Facebook, but I didn't say what I was referring to because I didn't want people to know I was going to quit. By the end of my sophomore season, I was done. Swearing under my breath at people on my way to the gym for practice every day because I hated going there. Upset at myself for not getting better. Hating everything about that season. When my season ended two weeks early on a bad ankle sprain, I was a mess. I screamed like a crazy person when I got injured-- not because I was in so much pain, but because I believed my competitive volleyball career was over and I was pissed that it ended on a bad block. If you have never had your hands clamp up because you are crying so hard, I advise you to keep it that way. Sorry for anyone in the Fieldhouse (Mara Birge, you are a saint!) who had to listen to that. Cheree, thank you for not murdering me because I was ridiculous.

Rocking the Big Black Blob sweats and finally off crutches.

In my mind, I was done. Finished forever. Never going to play in a volleyball game again.
Yet, as usual, God works in ridiculous ways and I ended up playing my junior season. I was even excited about it. After our spring tournament at SFCC (Dizz, I wouldn't have made it if you hadn't broken into my room and woken me up. What a blessing you are), I was in. I had to be-- I was having too much fun to not play again.

Come training camp, I knew four days in that I had made a horrible mistake. But there I was-- tryouts had happened, people had been cut, and I was on the team. At that point, I knew I was going to give it my all for that season and be done at the end. Darcy McMurray, as much as I want to blame you, I can't thank you enough for convincing me to play that next year, because...

"You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of the dust..."

Tonight is Senior Night for the sweet freshmen that were on that junior year team. Bruister, J, and Stine... Add Whit and Anna into the mix, and you've got a class of five seniors that are rounding out their volleyball careers tonight. Right now, I'm online watching J dominate the outside and  "Stad-a-lee," as the announcer is saying, take on the role of middle. Stine's rocking the block and Whit is digging up a storm and loving every second of it. I remember my practices, games, and conference championship with these ladies and am so excited about how far they have come. I am so proud of my "B side"-- thanks for pushing me even when I didn't want to push myself. Kate, Holly, and Abi, you deserve that thanks just as much as anyone.

"Freshmen and Kathy"... I wouldn't have had it any other way.

I also remember the way that my junior year of volleyball blessed me, even in the midst of frustration and pain. That season, I learned how to serve without receiving anything in return. I learned that amazing things can happen when you make an intentional choice to make a situation the best it can be. I learned that if you wait long enough and try hard enough, Randi Stephens will be a friend for life. I learned that even when you aren't in the spotlight, there are always people who look up to you. And I learned that I still loved the game of volleyball, even if I didn't love to play it competitively anymore.

Senior Night.

I am amazed at the adventures that God has had me on since that time. "In movement there is life, and in change there is power"... I loved that line from the first time I read the quote, but I love it even more now that I can reflect on the power, change, adventure, and movement there has been in my life since the day I sat in Rupe's office with him and Darcy crying my eyes out, saying "I can't do it anymore" and them simply saying "We know, but we still love you." A decision that I put off for over a year was finally made, and chains were broken. I was free.

Tonight, as I watch the last set of teammates I ever had finishing out their careers, I am thankful for the role that volleyball played in my life. Sure, I haven't touched a ball in over a year and those days seem like a whole different lifetime, but even in the midst of pain, that junior year season-- one of the most emotionally challenging of my life-- taught me more about myself than I could ever imagine. Thanks, Whitworth Volleyball-- now go beat Linfield!!

My dear Randi/Randizzle/Dizz. Taken this past summer in Montana... So thankful for this girl!

These are a few of my favorite things.

I hear the bright yellow kettle on the stove, starting to hum quietly, not yet screeching...
I think of Callie Gordon, who pushes me to choose yellow... to choose happy... to choose life.

I decide it's time to get the hot chocolate ready... Which mug should I use tonight?
My Scrabble mug from Randi?
The mug Caty gave me for my birthday from her favorite coffee shop in Chehalis?
The one I received from Anna as a bridesmaid gift (that I accidentally ruined in the dishwasher but I can't bear to part with)?

I finally decide on the one from my mom, just for a little taste of home tonight. But all of them make me smile and reminisce, each paired with a sweet memory.
I have lesson plans waiting to be made, a cold rushing its way through my body, a brain that feels foggy, the Seahawks live updates coming to me on my phone...
But all I can focus on is the song stuck in my head.

"Christ alone, cornerstone.
Weak made strong, in the savior's blood.
Through the storm, He is Lord, Lord of all."

As the apartment lays quiet, I reflect on the day. The Skype session I got to have with Anna. The friends I sat next to at church tonight. The students I will have with me each day this week. The life that, two months ago, didn't even exist in this city...

I sit in awe at His faithfulness. His provision. His great and mighty love. Lord, may I lay it all at your feet... Continue to guide me closer and closer to you.

One year.

It has been exactly 8,760 hours.
365 days.
One year since I stepped on a plane in Seattle, WA headed out on the adventure of a lifetime.
My Ghana-versary.

Today, as I walked into Cottonwood, I remembered... Today's the day.
The day I cried in the airport talking to Devin as I was so nervous to leave. The day I looked forward to and thought about for months on end leading up to it. The day, ironically, my best friend also moved to Germany for three years. The day I finally listened to God's call of "Go."

I didn't know that Bismark would be the first kid at CORM to give me a hug, and I didn't know that Florence would capture my heart and I would miss her every. single. day. after I left. I didn't know Mary was going to move me and I didn't know that I would become friends with Robin Beebe. I didn't know that I would visit one of the poorest communities I will likely ever see and I didn't know that my heart would be filled to the brim, but also completely drained, and sometimes on the same day.

As I look back on this year, it is incredible to see the ways God has moved in my life. I had NO idea what I was getting myself into when I left for Ghana and He provided for me in all possible ways. I continue to cling to little glimpses of life there, whether it be pictures from Stacy or texts from Autumn or challenges from Robin. I also remember the first 5 of so months of my time abroad that just felt plain HARD. I continue to tell people that at no point did I feel like I made the wrong choice or wanted to go home, it was just a struggle. But, come March, I felt more alive in that place than I ever had before, and it was beautiful. In this past year, I have struggled with parts of my past and cried out about parts of my future. I can't count the number of times I said "OK God, I really need you to hurry up and show me where you want me next year!" If you would have seen me on my walks/runs, you would have probably thought I was crazy because I would walk along STARING at the sky, just hoping to see some formation in the clouds that told me where I was supposed to end up (oddly enough, I never found anything).

I could talk forever about how much I love these children, how thankful I am that I know both them and the adults I met in Ghana, and how I long for the day when I will return. But, in the end, it all comes down to gratitude to the Lord.

I sit here, procrastinating planning for tomorrow, and I ache for this day, a year ago... I would give anything to be back on my way to Ghana to spend time with the piece of my heart that is there. But I rest in His plan, thankful for the beautiful Tri-Cities sunsets and rainbows, exhausted after a crazy day at work, and blessed by the way He loves me.

My little Florence lovebug... Words cannot express how much joy this girl brings me. Watching LIFE come to her eyes over her first year at CORM was the most beautiful journey, filled with so much laughter and love. Autumn & Stacy, keep loving on this little one for me!!

Not that I have favorites... But I do. Ok, I admit it. And little Gamali is right up there with my sweet girl. I can still so clearly picture his little giggle and his running hugs.

Ushering in little lovebug as I am preparing to leave... I would have kept it together if it weren't for this little one. But I just LOVE Raphael's face! It's so perfectly him! :)

And this little guy... My Bismark. He was stuck spending many, many, MANY hours working one-on-one with me. I still have a paper where it took us 5 days to write the numbers 1-9 3 times... But by golly, he did it! So thankful I was able to be there to make his transition to school for the first time go a little more smoothly.

Devin

Right now, I am eating a McFlurry in Ritzville, WA and it's one of the happiest McFlurries of my life... Which is saying something, because these were GREAT as a kid! But today, it's a great day because I'm on the road to celebrate...

DEVIN! (With the sweet red scarf! This is the only picture I have of us that I can figure out how to upload, but Tricia and I will have to join in the picture!)

Today, I celebrate the Devin Whitmill I have been blessed to know for five years. Devin and I met our freshman year at Whitworth when we were both fall-sport athletes who had no time for friends, fun, or much of a social life at all. But as time grew on, Little Dev began spending more and more time on our hall. Second semester, she became an official Bat Cave member when she moved in with Tricia, across the hall from me!

One of the first things anyone who meets Devin will notice is the joy with which she approaches life. So much time has been spent on the Giggle Train with this girl that you can't help to just love being in her presence. However, some of my favorite moments with Devin have been e-mails that spill our hearts to each other, late night talks in the Burrow about anything and everything, conversations in Boppell about Jesus and mercy and love... Times when Devin is so great at being exactly where she is, digging into people and truly, honestly wanting to learn more about them every day. Devin, I am grateful for the way you have continued to love me, even when I struggled to be present in your life. I am grateful that you loved me both when you were in China and when I was in Ghana, making sure you shared updates of your life and encouraged me through thick and thin. And thank you for loving me when I returned-- messy and broken, but you took me in anyway.

Tomorrow, Devin Whitmill becomes Devin Bushy... Ryan sure is a lucky guy! Watching these two grow with each other over the last 3 years has been such an adventure. I am so proud of the way they have leaned on each other, forgiven each other, loved each other, and most of all, loved Jesus more than anything. I am so excited to celebrate the continuation of their life together, and the start of their journey as husband and wife.

Devin, I just want the world to know how grateful I am for you, your wisdom, and your intentional, consistent love. You are going to be the most beautiful bride and I can't wait to see what God has in store for you and Ryan. Happy wedding weekend, Mrs. Bushy! I love you!

Montana

Today, I celebrate 24 years of Randi Leigh Stephens and the beautiful week I got to spend with her a few weeks ago! Happy birthday, Dizzle :)

Big Sky Country... The Treasure State... Whatever you want to call it, people who live in Montana tend to LOVE Montana.

And I can see why!!

Matching big black blob sweats! Our favorite!

About a week and a half after I returned to the States, I was blessed to be able to accompany Caty to Bozeman, Montana for a week-long stay with our sweet friend, Randi Stephens!

Right before they thought I died rock climping... WHOOPS!

 Randi and I played volleyball together for 3 years at Whitworth and she has been such a blessing in my life. Randi is one of the most sincere, laid-back, genuinely joy-filled people that I know. Sometimes it takes a little bit to dig past her outer shell, but once you get her laughing with her mom, cheering me on when I'm driving a stick-shift, or reminiscing over volleyball memories with me, you can see it come out plain and clear.

Getting this time in Bozeman was such a blessing. I have been trying to get out there for two summers now, and it just hasn't worked out... Either I was working, Randi was helping her sister move into her dorm, I didn't have a car, or something else came up... But finally, God provided the perfect opportunity to get a week of good, quality Randi time... And it came at the perfect time!

The week started off with a 12-hour drive from Seattle to Bozeman with me, Caty, Randi, and Randi's mom Susan. Thankfully, with the right company 12 hours can seem pretty short! We were greeted with this beautiful rainbow at our last pit stop in Butte on our way.

A Sunday morning church service, breakfast at different downtown restaurants, visits to friends, coffee dates and walks in the park, Farmers Market visits, hikes, rock climbing adventures, a trip to  Yellowstone (with moose, deer, bear, antelope, and bison sightings!), seeing the classroom where Randi teaches, games of Who-What-Where, cribbage matches, embarrassingly bad games of Holy Board, attempts at teaching me to drive a stick-shift, evenings watching the Bachelorette and Big Bang Theory... The whole week was a beautiful, laid-back Montana experience. Randi, I hope you have had a beautiful Austrian birthday and are being celebrated so well with you family.

Happy birthday, Dizz!

23

Today, I celebrate twenty-three years of life on this beautiful, crazy, tragic, painful Earth.

One year ago, I officially posted for the first time about my choice to spend my 22nd year in Ghana, West Africa.
One year ago, I was TERRIFIED... and so excited. I knew what I was supposed to do, but I didn't really know why.
One year later, my heart aches to return. But now, I am realizing that my life is an act of obedience. As I was obedient to the Lord in going to Ghana 10 months ago, I am also striving to be joyfully obedient in my return to Washington.

When I was 22...
...I traveled the world.
...I spent my first year as a post-graduate.
...I taught in the back corner of a small classroom.
...I loved on 35 CORM kids relentlessly.
...people around the world loved on me relentlessly.
...Jesus showed Himself to me in new and beautiful ways.
...I grew. I cried. I loved. I lost. I gained. I sang. I danced. I ran. I cheered. I taught. I suffered. I grieved. I challenged. I was challenged. I conquered. I changed.

I'd call that a successful year.

Today, I spent the day with some of my sweetest friends, cheering for the Mariners, getting a sunburn, and strolling around downtown Ballard in search of delicious food. I look forward to my move to Kennewick in two weeks. I celebrate the work Jesus has done and is continuing to do in my life. Today, I celebrate life.

Cheers to 23, the new adventures it has to bring, and a little more Jesus in my life every day.

Go and tell!

"The man from whom the demons had gone out begged to go with him, but Jesus sent him away, saying, 'Return home and tell how much God has done for you.' So the man went away and told all over town how much Jesus had done for him." (Luke 8:38, 39 NIV)

Yes Lord. I will.

Heartache

This morning, I cried at the image of two of our beautiful City of Refuge girls serving their community in an outreach. Their faces, so clear and familiar, are more than I can bear right now.

My heart aches to hug them... To love on them... To serve them as I did for nine months.

I found this quote on the 147 Million Orphans blog (yes, that's a real number. 147 million too many...) just a few minutes ago, and it hit home so closely. Words of deep, inexplicable pain over leaving "the least of these" who have brought out the most of you...

"And all that gets you through those minutes is thinking about the next time you will be here……and the love that you have for this place and the children that inhabit it…….because were it not for the immense amount of love for them, you would never willingly subject yourself to this much pain and heartache…."

This leaves me speechless... The words I've been searching for, but haven't been able to come up with...

I know the heartache will go away to an extent. I know this will get easier. But my heart is in that place, with all 41 kids that are there... Oh Lord, tend to that peace of my heart... I ache so badly to return to it.

Transition

As of this moment, I've been back in the United States for 11 days, 7 hours, and about 45 minutes. When I landed in Denver, Colorado, I was greeted by a dear friend in the airport with a smile and a hug... But I was immediately put into sensory overload. This many days later, I am still pushing through that. As I walked to put a letter in the mail the other day, I got overwhelmed just walking down my street... The smells of freshly cut grass and flowers were foreign to me, the sounds of elementary students playing down the block brought back floods of nostalgia from the children I left behind, and the sunlight felt too bright for my eyes to contain.

I've been asked a million times "How are you adjusting to being back? Are you happy to be back in the world of ___________ (you name it... internet, texting, food, America)?" How do I even begin to convey how hard it was to leave, and the lack of excitement that I have felt the whole time about being back in the States? Really, I'm adjusting outwardly fine, but inwardly is pretty rocky!

Honestly, my favorite question I've been asked was Aaron McMurray's "Tell us the WORST thing that happened in Ghana... Something where you said 'Why am I even here?'" In that, I can tell of God's redemption... The way He moved even in the darkness... But in trying to explain my transition? I get through the sentence "Well, it feels really different, and it was really hard to say goodbye, but it was such a fun week of celebrating Tricia and Jesse" before I lose about 50% of the ears. And I don't expect anything else... I'm just not sure where to fit back in. When my sweet housemate Jill asks "Tell me EVERYTHING about the culture... The people, the food, everything!," I could tell she really meant it... No one would talk about slave castles for half an hour at a wedding if they didn't truly have ears that wanted to hear! I am thankful for these little moments where I can just share my reality...

I feel like I am stalking life in Ghana... Looking through Christa and Meaghan's pictures, clinging to words from Autumn, thinking about that place all the time, praying for different kids... Today, sweet little Florence celebrated her birthday... What I would have given to be there and watch her dance around as she tried to escape the water that was inevitably being poured on her. June brought birthdays for Evelyn, Mary, Sammy, Abigail, DK, Florence, Hannah, John, Alex, and Grace... Days where their FREEDOM is being celebrated, as their "birthdays" were marked as the day they came to City of Refuge, since very few of the children actually know the day they were born. I would have loved to be there to celebrate each and every one of those precious children... But that's not where the Lord has called me for this season, and I'm still working on coming to terms with that.

Each day this week, I have woken up feeling exhausted... But as my mom pointed out, I have been going and going since the second I stepped off the plane. My devotional book started with this thought this morning...

"I speak to you continually. My nature is to communicate, though not always in words. I fling glorious sunsets across the sky, day after day. I speak in the faces and voices of loved ones. I caress you with a gentle breeze the refreshes and delights you. I speak softly in the depths of your spirit, where I have taken up residence." Jesus Calling, Sarah Young

When I was in Ghana, this felt easier to take the time to see. Here, I get so caught up with the flood of people to see and conversations to be had that I don't stop as often to marvel in the intricacies. I hope that this will change once I get my feet on the ground... But my feet won't be on the ground until the middle of August! How do I slow down my heart and my spirit, when my life is rushing around me?

This week, my family took a ~24 hour trip to go spend some time with my grandparents, as my grandfather's health has been declining rapidly in the last few months. I was so excited to have a room to our hotel to myself, able to curl up with a book and maybe some TV and just relax... But I couldn't even manage to do it there! My obsession with Facebook, instagram, constantly looking up something... It's consuming when I let it be! Even in the midst of writing this blog I find myself constantly "just checking." It's ridiculous! I finally realized I needed to just keep my phone in the car when I was in their house so that I wasn't checking things in the middle of conversation. I just went without all of this for 9 months... Am I really not strong enough to maintain that?

So as I prepare to head to Montana for a week to spend time with Caty and Randi (for which I am so excited!), my prayer is for time to really dig in and process... But also to not have unrealistic expectations of myself. Yes, I'm going to indulge in the internet a little. Yes, I'm going to eat a little too much. Yes, I'm going to want to hear what's going on in Ghana. No, I'm not going to be perfect.

But I'm going to try to listen for the small voice... See His presence in the flowers and the mountains... Feel His peace in both the rain and the sunshine... Ease those depths of my spirit where He abides...

Things I Forgot About

Things I forgot about in 5 months of being away from the States...

1. It can get dark later than 6:30pm.

2. Drinking water from a glass. And free water at restaurants.

3. Being cold. Ever.

4. Caring about what I look like... Whoops. Nothing like an afternoon in downtown Boulder after traveling for 24+ hours to give you a nice reminder that you look like a mess. Oh wait... I am a mess!

5. What it's like to walk down the street and not be stared at.

6. How much I HATE my phone. I miss my simple little Ghana phone with the butt-bumping Panda game!

7. White children.

8. Parks. Green grass? Play areas? What's that?

And this is only after 6 hours of being here...

Ouch.

As I write this, I am watching "The Dark Knight" on my way from Frankfurt, Germany to Denver, Colorado (USA). It's still unreal to me that when I land, I will be on American soil for the first time in five months. I have drank hot chocolate with Anna in Germany, slept for a few hours on my fist flight, and cheated the Internet system to get a few hours free... And I have cried, cried, and cried some more.




The view out my window as we started our descent into Germany!



These last 24 hours have been some of the hardest moments of my life. I woke up Saturday morning with a pit in my stomach... "Today's the day," I told myself. The day I have to leave 38 little souls whom I love to pieces, the day I leave the volunteers and missionaries who have given their hearts to City of Refuge for different amounts of time, the day I leave my sweet friends Autumn and Emily, the day I leave my home...

Oh, shoot. I thought my tears were finished for the time being.
(Side note: Flight attendants look at you strangely when they ask you a question and you look at them with tears on your cheek. Try and avoid this situation if possible. Good luck.)

For the last 9 months, I have teased Autumn about her constant Instagram-ing. During church services, sitting at dinner, or walking home from school, it's not unlikely for her to stop and snap a picture of something beautiful, funny, or precious... Never have I been so thankful for this as in the last day. I saw these kids 22 hours ago and I already miss them so, so much...

Many of the kids that I worked with were orphaned. Some of them were sold into human trafficking. Some of them were abandoned at a young age, left with a elderly family member, or with no family members at all. All of them have felt pain... So much pain. And yesterday, in a few of their hearts, I felt like I was bringing all this pain back to them as I kissed their heads for the last time (for now... I know I will be back). I don't want them to feel abandoned... If only they could understand how deeply they are loved by me, but most importantly, loved by Jesus. I know that they are stronger than I can even imagine and that they are going to be just fine... But seeing Florence's eyes, dead and full of pain, so confused about why she keeps being left behind... It brings me to tears just picturing it. In those moments, I can only pray for the comfort of Jesus... Nothing else will suffice. And I pray the same for myself... I know I was called to Ghana for a specific season, but right now I am having a hard time reconciling the ending of this part of my life.

This week, I get to celebrate the wedding of my wonderful friends Tricia and Jesse. This week, I get to live with my beautiful Devin and share the excitement of her engagement that I haven't been around for. This week, I get to reconnect with people who I haven't seen in five months, and some even longer... I am excited to see these people and see the work the Lord is doing in their life. A week from tomorrow, I get to see my future school and get a small, quick glimpse of the life I will be living in Kennewick. This summer, I get to share the joys of what God is doing in my heart with people all around the country,and for that I am thrilled...

But this week, I also continue the process of figuring out what to do with the pain, hurt, and poverty I have lived along side for the last 9 months. This week, I will eagerly stalk Autumn's Instagram and cling to every small piece of life at City of Refuge I can get my hands and eyes on. This week, I'm pretty sure I will continue to cry and cry, missing so much...

This week, I will still walk alongside the same Jesus that walked with me in Ghana day in and day out. And if I keep my eyes fixed there, I have to trust that no matter how much pain is there or how many tears I shed, my soul can rejoice in the work He is doing in this world, and the work He has done in me.

Preparing for a New Chapter

I leave Ghana in less than 4 days.
My heart is not ready... I don't think it ever would be, no matter when I was leaving.

Not ready to leave Gamali hugs... Florence tackles... DK jokes... Mary hugs (and squirms at kisses)... Malvin kissing my feet when they're clean... Autumn laughter, songs, and silliness... Emily love, energy, and growth... Bible study heart challenges... muddy roads... art markets... trips to Accra... Sunday church gatherings... Bismark finally able to spell his last name... Rosemary sassiness... Paul sarcasm (with lots of hidden love in it)... Not ready to leave Ghana.

My prayer for this week is feeling... I don't want to be numb... I want to revel in the pain and cry at the heartache. I want to leave this place knowing that it loved me well, and I did my best to love it well in return... But it hurts deep.

God, this life is not my own... I give it to you out of thanks for your grace... I pray that you will meet me in these depths, not to pull me out, but to walk alongside me, feeling every last bit of the way...

Cape Coast Slave Castle

This weekend, I had the opportunity to travel to Cape Coast, an area of Ghana where I have been wanting to go since my arrival in September. While the trip overall was a great weekend getaway, I was most impacted by our trip to the Cape Coast Slave Castle and the reality of the atrocities that happened there during the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade. It was a painful, but incredible opportunity to visit this place…

The view from the Governor's bedroom...

I don’t know how exactly to put this experience into words... The Cape Coast castle served as a place where captured Africans were brought, sold for a price depending on their strength and health, and then kept for 2 weeks-3 months before they were put on a boat and shipped off to Europe or the United States to, again, be sold as a slave. We walked through the dungeons where they were held, standing on a floor comprised of their urine, feces, vomit, etc. that has hardened over time. We saw the room where anyone who tried to escape was put, which had no ventilation and where they received no water and no food… they literally starved and suffocated to death, their punishment for attempted rebellion. We saw the room where any woman who wouldn’t let the soldiers use her to “satisfy their need for sex,” as our tour guide put it, was put for punishment, receiving only a small daily amount of food and water through a slit in the wall. We saw the Governor’s room, which had a beautiful ocean front view with a huge living space and a separate bedroom. We saw the site of the first Anglican Church in the country, built directly on top on the dungeons… They would sing and preach ON TOP of the prisoners that they had deemed as dirt and sold as property. “Ironically, Heaven up there, Hell down here.” We walked through the door where the captives were loaded onto ships and sent off, the Door of No Return…

We saw just a small, small piece of the hell that these people went through… and it was painful! Painful to think of the horror that these innocent African men, women, and children went through… Painful to think of the Governor sitting on his high horse with his ocean view and his personal secretary… Painful to think that human trafficking is still happening all over this world, and it happened to the kids I live with! It’s one of those things that you learn about in history class time and time again, but to actually get a little glimpse of reality… It hurts.

And I’m not sure what to do with that.

God is Really Cool

After being in Ghana for 8 months, I sit staring at the last 11 days on my calendar before I leave. I have been trying to process through emotions, but there are SO MANY and they are constantly changing that I haven’t even figured out how to process well.

Since a week and a half ago, there have been multiple days that I’ve woken up feeling sick to my stomach at the thought of going to school, simply because I know it is ending so soon. I have cried in front of kids multiple times… Sometimes, you just can’t keep it inside! Sitting in Autumn’s office this morning, I talked her through a million things going through my head. To sum up my mind…

Me: It’s not like I’m on a roller coaster, just…

Autumn: Just a perpetual flood?

Yes, exactly…

At this point, I don’t have a lot of “things” I want to accomplish. I want to cry with the kids… I want to pray for the school… I want to spend time with Autumn and Emily… I want to laugh… I want to love hard… and I get to do each of those every day (ok, I’m not crying with kids every day… But it has happened a couple time in the last few weeks!). I simply want to be present in this place for as long as I can. Returning from Cape Coast, I was reminded that life will most certainly go on when I leave… There will be some stings, and the evening of “See you later” will be extremely painful, but for everything, there is a season…

Last Wednesday, I struggled through some feelings of inadequacy in thinking about my time here, just feeling as though I hadn’t done as much for the kids I wanted or seen as much change in some of them as I hoped… But God really had to show me that I am dealing with living, breathing sons and daughters of Him, and He’s the one who is going to be present here forever and ever, even when I leave. It took words of encouragement and tears from someone else to really make me able to believe that my time here mattered… To really be able to believe God’s truth above the enemy’s lies. Above all else, I know that my time and purpose here was planned by God, even when I have a hard time figuring out what my “purpose” was. I have really been leaning on Isaiah 49 this week, which I read on the afternoon of my struggles…

“He said to me, ‘You are my servant, Israel, in whom I will display my splendor.’

But I said, ‘I have labored in vain; I have spent my strength for nothing at all. Yet what is due to me is in the Lord’s hand, and my reward is with my God.’

And now the Lord says… ‘It is too small for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back those of Israel I have kept. I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.’” (v. 3-4, 6)

Just when I felt as though my labor was nothing, He told me “Not only are you not nothing, but you are even greater than you can imagine…Even the title of “servant” I have given you is too small…”

That afternoon, I sat outside the library and wept during our staff meeting, simply overwhelmed at the fact that He wouldn’t even give me an afternoon of wallowing before He spoke up on my behalf… I soon had a group of 1^st graders gathered around me, and all I could tell them in response to “Auntie Kathy, why are you crying?!” was “God is just really cool…”

He’s more than cool… He’s faithful. He’s redeeming. He’s caring. He’s a fighter. He’s sovereign. He’s King of Kings, Lord of Lords… He is the one with the bigger picture in mind that I am so desperately trying to see, handing over my human eyes that look to next Saturday and instead taking up His eyes, which see my life and its purpose in His kingdom...

As I am typing this, the rain has started falling… My favorite thing in Ghana. I’m sure that means the power will go out soon, which is really too bad since it’s time to go to bed and it’s challenging to sleep without the fan… But God, I thank you for the time of peace that the rain brings to my heart. I thank you for the ways that you show yourself in simple beauties. And Lord, I thank you for the way you love us, are enthralled by us, pursue us… You are really cool.