On the Road to Beautiful

Cultivating Gratitude

2011-07-05T21:19:00.000-05:00

Recently a friend and mentor of mine shared with me about a book she is reading called One Thousand Gifts. The author, recognizing her ungrateful heart and attitude toward life (boy, did that description pluck a convicting heart string!) set out to create a list of one thousand things for which she was grateful. One Thousand. That's a mighty long list.

As I listened to Sheri share about this book and a bit of the author's experience of experiencing God in the present, I became inspired to challenge myself to do likewise.

Ungrateful heart? Complaining and grumbling spirit? Guilty, guilty, and guilty. Grandpa Adam, Grandma Eve, I'm lookin' at you. It's been there since the beginning. Do you think my first word was "mine" or "thanks"?

And so I put my hands to the plow and begin the work of cultivating gratitude. I'm not talking about breaking up soil that's simply been lying fallow for a few years. Not a chance. This will be a brand new territory--laboring to clear a patch of land overrun and entangled with thorns and weeds of sin. And through disciplined care and the work of the Holy Spirit hoping that it will produce the desired fruit of gratitude.

A gardener is diligent in his work, is he not? Daily uprooting weeds that spring up overnight, watering and tending to planted seeds, adding nutrients to the soil, and the list goes on. Yet, for all his diligence and labor he really has no ability to force a shoot to emerge from a seed, cause the growth, or tell the plant the proper time for bearing its fruit.

So I imagine it will be with gratitude. Daily uprooting ingratitude that sneaks in and tries to choke out my little gratitude plants. And watering the roots with practiced gratitude so that what was planted becomes firmly established in my heart.

And so I embark on my own journey of opening my eyes and looking at my daily life to see one thousand things for which I am able to genuinely give thanks to God. I imagine you'll see some of them appear in posts from time to time.

Someone finally did it!

2011-06-30T22:08:00.002-05:00

I was pretty skeptical when a colleague mentioned, "here's a great video on poverty". I feel like all of those videos raising awareness about any sort of societal issue are the same...shocking pictures, emotional music, and at the end I'm left feeling guilty or heartless.
This involves none of those elements. After I watched it I just wanted to stand up and cheer. It is like getting a halftime locker room talk from a coach and finding out for the first time that we actually have a good chance of winning the game.
So take a coffee break, sit back and be encouraged. And be careful with your coffee in case you start excitedly swinging your arm around in a cheering gesture.

Heart Surgery

2011-06-28T23:06:00.001-05:00

Recent months are some of the more painful in my short-ish life. It wasn't one particular circumstance, more like back to back to back to back to back situations where the floor seemed to drop out from beneath me.

It's the sort of season that will rock a girl to the core and leave her with just the core, which is probably the whole point of it all to begin with. I liken it to heart surgery. Not my physical heart. I mean heart as in the center of who I am.

There's a passage in the book of Hebrews that I really love. The first part of it goes like this:

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us," -Hebrews 12:1 (ESV, emphasis mine)

I feel like in this season God mercifully lifted weights from me to help me press even harder into this race of life before me. The weights He lifted weren't inherently bad things at all: dreams, goals, relationships, even financial security. Having those things lifted (which felt like having them taken away at the time) hurt like crazy.

It didn't take long before God clued me in to what He was doing. Then I saw the tender mercy in the action of Him lifting the weights that I couldn't see or simply wasn't strong enough to lay aside on my own. And it still hurt like crazy, just to be authentic with you. But I had the sweet comfort of His care and nearness in it all.

I learned that each weight He lifted from me had deep roots in my heart. But the weights weren't taken from me recklessly like weeds from a garden with all the ripping and tearing. Instead they were skillfully removed with great precision by the very Surgeon who created my heart.

Surgery hurts, but the purposeful wounds of a surgeon can be trusted. We willingly submit ourselves to it because we know that it will help us, right?

So that's where I've been for the past couple of months -- letting God do a bit of radical heart surgery and trying not to get in His way during the healing process.

Litter-ally

2011-04-18T21:57:00.004-05:00

One of my neighbors has an obnoxious habit of throwing his cigarette butts and empty packs on the ground. Occasionally, in what I sincerely believe is a twisted effort to pick up after himself, he tosses the empty packs behind the bushes. There they become invisible to the whole world...unless, of course, anyone happens to be looking out my windows at my striking bushfront view. It's tricky to get to the litter behind the bushes due to the spiky foliage, dog waste in the garden in front of the bushes...shockingly due to the same neighbor, and the bee's nest. What I really need is one of those old man pick-em, poke-em reacher sticks to give me some extra arm length.
This morning I opened the blinds with a, "You've got to be kidding me," as I saw the above combination of litter. That's right. An empty pack of smokes and an inhaler. It's a dark sort of irony that brings a head shake of disbelief more than a laugh.

Proudly flying the flag of the 20th century

2011-04-17T22:10:00.004-05:00

Recently the cable guy came by my door trying to sell me any and all services that his company has to offer that I don't currently have.
"I see that you have internet with us. How is it working for you?"
"Fine."
"Do you have a satellite dish? What do you use for tv? You know we can save you money if you bundle your cable with your internet."
"I have an antenna."
(slight choking sound) "An antenna? Interesting..."
"Yeah, it's free. You see it right there in the window, Ahfaz? It looks like a giant pair of rabbit ears on top of my tv. Now take a good look at that silver flag on one ear. You think that's there for decoration? No way. That's aluminum foil and it helps reel in some extra signal. Now if you ever walk by and it's been replaced by a white flag of surrender, then you can come back and sell me your expensive cable in a bundle. Hey, listen, I'd show you my covered wagon, too, but it's in the shop."

Fa la-la-la-la!

2011-04-14T08:27:00.005-05:00

A one minute cup of cheer to celebrate the spirit of the season.

Kid Conversations

2011-04-12T12:49:00.003-05:00

As it turns out, some of the youngsters in my neighborhood are budding conversationalists. One of my favorites is a 3 year old I see often at the dog park. We recently had a chat that went like this:
"Hey, B. I'm going to go home now. I need to feed the dog and eat dinner."
"But she just ate that stick."
"Well, I think she needs some dog food, too."
"Oh. What are you going to eat for dinner?"
"Leftovers, I think."
"What is a leftover?"
"It is extra food from my dinner last night that is in my refrigerator."
"Oh. What color is your refrigerator?"
"White."
"I think all refrigerators are white."

And then there was the elementary schooler on roller blades that stopped me yesterday:
"Hey! What kind of dog is that?"
"She's part Australian Shepherd."
"There's another one of those here, but it's going blind. Did you know that there is a man with the world record for having no nostrils? He looks like this..."
Oh, to be a fly on the wall for his first date.

The times they are a changin'...

2011-03-31T00:33:00.008-05:00

Tonight on a Dallas freeway I spotted a car with personalized plates that said, GAIA....personalized plates for Mother Earth.
Hmmm, so this is what she's driving these days....

I never really pictured myself being passed by Mother Earth on a freeway, but if I did, I think I'd expect something more like this:

I don't know. With her shiny new Vette, it kind of makes me wonder if the ole girl's on the take and sold out to special interest groups...if no one renews that vanity plate I'm going to get it and put it on a jacked-up big wheel truck with a roll bar and dual snorkel exhaust.

Love in the check-out line

2011-03-29T13:11:00.000-05:00

Each week I look forward to my brief exchange with the guy that bags my groceries at the local Kroger. He's a middle-aged African American man who never meets a stranger and doesn't let anyone leave his line without a smile. I don't know what his first name is, only that his last name is Love...or at least that's what he claims.
Yesterday he happened to be in the parking lot as I was loading my car and he volunteered to finish the job for me. While doing so, he some life philosophy with me, which I am now passing along to you. This guy cracks me up.

What Women Really Want -by Johnny Love
"All the young guys around here tell me they know what women want. But they don't know the first thing about women. You see, what a woman really wants is for you to shut-up and do what she asks you to do. She wants you to hold down a job and move out chyo' momma's house. That's what a woman wants. That's what I tell these boys."

Why my dog hates Jack London books

2011-03-28T14:01:00.004-05:00

On one long road trip I listened to a couple of Jack London books on cd. I could swear Hannah was giving me the stink eye every time the story mentioned the sled dogs burrowing into the snow for the night. Call of the Wild? I think not. Shoot, if I don't get to bed early enough, I have to poke White Fang here off of the prime real estate.

If I Ran The Zoo

2011-03-02T21:18:00.003-06:00

I finally made my big move to Dallas and moving into the new apartment has been a joyful project. For the better part of a year my adult life sat in a storage unit in Amarillo, packed away like some enormous game of Jenga. But now I get to be in that fun stage where I'm taking all of my Jenga pieces and the new apartment and figuring out how to make it feel like a home.

Sometimes during my little homemaking projects I realize that I need a tool that I don't have. Don't be misled, here. I'm talking putting together a Walmart desk and realizing I need a Phillip's screwdriver not a tile cutter, okay? So lately I've been making visits to The Home Depot. And every time I'm there I can't help but think that if I owned that store I'd start selling cold beer and I'd put it right over there next to all of that fancy pants patio furniture.

Also, I'd nix the whole orange uniform thing. I know it matches the logo, but I bet employee morale will skyrocket if people don't look like The Great Pumpkin every minute on their time card. But what do I know? I went to college and studied dirt.

Janet rides shotgun

2011-02-15T14:52:00.007-06:00

I'm on a bit of an adventure these days--taking a leap of faith and following what I believe to be God's leading to move my support-raising efforts to Dallas although I know very few people here.
Last week I packed my bag, set the course on the GPS on my new phone and journeyed out of the Panhandle.
I've never driven with a GPS system before, but figured that I should take advantage of the resources available to me with this new piece of technology. Now that it's 2011, I may as well jump into 2008, right? No one drives around with printed-out Mapquest directions anymore. And who would be caught dead with an actual folding map?! I mean, what am I driving these days anyway? A covered wagon?
Within minutes a voice started squawking from my console telling me to, "turn right in 1/4 mile. TURN RIGHT....recalculating....turn right in 1 mile....TURN RIGHT," Obviously the GPS girl didn't know about the cutoff highway and was going to send me 30 minutes out of my way just for the fun of it. After I ignored her for long enough, I think she just gave up on me. Pretty sure that when she said, "Signal lost," it was her GPS equivalent of, "I'm sorry, I'm washing my hair tonight."
She started speaking to me again when my route met up with hers. That's about the time I named that girl Janet. "You gotta have a little faith in me, Janet. I know where I'm going."
After 200 miles of driving on the same highway, it was finally time for the BIG interchange. It was dark, but thankfully Janet started her yapping while I was on the phone, so I heard neither Janet nor the person on the phone. I ended the call and saw flashing emergency vehicle lights right about where the exit should be. "Exit right in 1/4 mile...Exit right. EXIT RIGHT!"
I held the phone up to the window as we passed so Janet could see that the ramp was closed and would get off my back about the whole thing.
But that Janet gives up so easily! All of a sudden she had the route recalculated and decided we were going to take a much longer and more inconvenient way to our final destination when all we really had to do was find a good place to make a U-turn.
I make my U-turn, but that really made Janet mad. "In 1/4 mile make a U-turn....Make a U-turn, Make a U-turn, Make a U-tuuuurn!!" I'm pretty sure I heard her sigh with exasperation before saying, "In one mile, make a U-turn..."
At which point I yell back in my own exasperation, "Damn it, Janet! You've GOT to have some faith in me! I know what I'm doing here. Pipe down."
And as we approached the entrance ramp to the highway we were originally going to take, Janet quietly acknowledged that I was right. "Exit right onto 380 East..."
"I told you so."
Technology is great. Fighting with Janet, even though I'm talking to a piece of plastic, is far more satisfying at the end of the day than fighting with paper maps in the olden days. Because, let's face it, that was a losing battle for us girls from the get-go. At least with Janet I can fall back on the threat, "If you don't knock it off I'll drop you in a glass of water. I have unconditional insurance on you. Don't think I won't do it." This, of course, is the single woman's version of Dad's, "Don't you make me come back there!" while paddling at the kids in the back seat with his right hand and driving with the left.
But just like the kids, Janet knows I won't really do it. I want my text messages too badly.

Ten Birds a Leaping

2010-12-28T10:58:00.003-06:00

Family Christmas dinners are fun. And when there's a grandma who refuses to get hearing aids, conversation often walks that fine line between exasperating and hilarious. Like this one:

The extended family of aunts and uncles and Grandma were all sitting around the table eating ice cream out of festive holiday mugs. Grandma had one with the words, "On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me..." on one side and then, "Ten lords a leaping," on the other side underneath an odd little picture of ten lords a leaping.
Part way through the ice cream Grandma became interested in the cup and started singing the song. "On the tenth day of Christmas....I can't remember what the tenth day is. This picture is some sort of jumping man in a funny suit."
"Lords a leaping," I tell her.
"Does anyone remember what my true love gave to me on the tenth day of Christmas?" she asked again, obviously missing my first response.
"Lords. A. Leaping." I repeat with a bit more volume and enunciation.
"Birds?! Emily, does that look like any kind of bird you've ever seen?!" Now Grandma is looking at me like I'm crazy.
"LORDS A LEAPING!" yells the entire table in unison.
"Oh, yes, yes! Lords a leaping. Of course," says Grandma as she begins humming the tune with the new found words.
"Hearing aids, Mom," says an aunt from across the table.
"What?"
"Exactly."

Knock, knock...

2010-11-19T18:13:00.017-06:00

Meet House. Just 5 short months ago she looked like this. A scrappy little ball of fluff with wild hair growing out of her ears. She showed up at our farm after being rescued from the middle of the road, where she'd apparently been abandoned.
We named her after tv's Dr. House because of her standoffish nature, gray hair, and at first glance we thought she was male. Not so. But the name stuck regardless of gender.
In previous posts I've mentioned a terrorist kitten nicknamed Osama--Osama and House are one and the same. Don't let her cuteness deceive you. She is a terrorist tornado inside the house. Still, we like her and she is a part of the family. Besides, she is usually good for some entertainment.

This is House just a few months later. Still getting into trouble, but looking like an adult, even though she's still a youngster.
You can imagine our surprise when the scrappy little teenage barn kitten started getting unusually fat a few weeks ago. Surprise? More like shocked and horrified. We never even had a chance to explain the birds and the bees to her before House started this expansion project; before Osama started growing a sleeper cell right in our barn.

We didn't even know there were any tomcats in the area, which added to our surprise about House being "in a family way". (Who says that anymore anyway?)
But one day we went out to the barn and found this guy all cozy and moved-into our heated tack room. Better than that, this tomcat intimidated dogs and people out of the room. He looks sweet in this picture, but he's usually hissing and growling. We are fairly certain he is the father of House's kittens, given the timing of his arrival and the fact that he expresses great dislike for all living things except for House. And me.

Meet Max. When we ask the question, Who did this to our little girl?! he is the prime suspect. Mostly because he is the only suspect.
He's not a bad looking cat, for a cat. (I'm not a cat person)
We spent a few days knocking on the neighbors' doors trying to find his home. No dice.
Now Max quickly went the way of all of our "barn" cats...my mom brought him inside. (Of course he bit her on the way). He hissed and growled like a dang panther and had the dogs in a corner. So, I wasn't exactly sure what to make of him climbing into my lap and falling fast asleep. There was an occasional growl and hiss from the dozing feline. Then he got really comfortable and stretched out on me like a baby with his chin on my shoulder. Seriously, it feels like some sort of fatal attraction relationship. When he does that I'm afraid to move him or upset him.
We briefly discussed naming him Church, but decided there's no need to set ourselves up for some awful self-fulfilling Stephen King prophecy. Max he remains.

I made a point of tossing Max outside at night. For some reason, he knows how to work the cat door in and out of the tack room in the barn, but he is baffled by the cat door from the garage into the house. I know this because the other day I was helping our neighbor girl wash out the scrape on her hand where Max bit her (not badly) when all of a sudden we heard this horrific screaming noise. And then our old barn cat, Lily, came tearing through the cat door like her tail was on fire. She and Max got into it, but the cat door stopped him cold.

Mom brought Max in that night, too. He clobbered me with his fatal attraction affection again. I threw him out like normal. (This isn't cruelty, he has a cushy heated room all to himself in the barn) About 10 minutes later he showed up back in the house. Apparently he figured out the second cat door. Great. I felt like Fred Flintstone tossing the cat outside over and over again.

I went to bed, started reading and there he was. Max the stray cat waltzed into our house climbed onto my bed, laid on my chest, and went to sleep. When I tried to move him he growled. Since he'd proven himself rather persistent and I didn't care be scratched or bitten, I decided to play his game. And that is how I came to be held prisoner in my own bed by a stray cat that let himself into our house.

Penance for a Tarantula

2010-11-18T15:30:00.005-06:00

I have a confession to make. It's about the tarantula from last month. I was having a conversation with the exterminator, who was an expert in all things spider, and he gave me some fascinating information about that tarantula. Information that left me feeling like one heck of an ignorant jerk.
It turns out that tarantula was just going about its normal fall migration, not coming out of a nest on the porch like I feared, and would have been gone the next day.
Also, he could have been up to 30 years old (the tarantula, not the exterminator). Wow.
With this new information, I've become perhaps a bit overly contrite with respect to spiders and insects around the farm. It's as though I think I can do enough penance to somehow bring that tarantula back to life. I know it's ridiculous.
I gently relocate spiders outside, right stinkbugs that are stuck on their backs. All the while, though, (and this is the weird thing) it's not the exterminator that I hear. It's Oprah. I hear her reciting those tarantula facts like she's narrating Life. (Who thought that was a good idea anyway?) And unlike the standard, neutral, British guy nature show narration, there's something about Oprah's voice that always triggers value judgments in my brain. I can't believe the male lion just sits around waiting for the female to bring him the food and then he has the gall to eat first!
So with Oprah doing the tarantula fact monologue in my brain, I fear I am on the mother of all guilt trips. I wonder when she'll go away? Soon, I hope. I am trying to think of people I'd like having in my head less...but I am having trouble coming up with anyone.

Sick as a what?

2010-11-18T13:15:00.002-06:00

Winter virus season? Love it. Sheri the pharmacist shot us up with flu shots like Rambo right there in the supermarket, so at least the whole family didn't get bowled over by the flu. I am the last one to get this monster cold and it feels pretty miserable. Some might venture to use the phrase, "sick as a dog".
That got me to thinking about what that actually means. We have dogs. Four. Last week we even had five. I am no stranger to a sick dog. In my years of experience there are two key tip-offs that a dog is sick; and either one of those symptoms requires intensive carpet cleaning. I'm thinking that whoever came up with that phrase never spent much time with a sick dog. Because those sure aren't symptoms anyone would go around advertising in a cute little colloquialism.

So much more than a sunrise

2010-11-08T20:56:00.003-06:00

I'm sitting here at my desk, coffee at my side, waiting for the sunrise to begin. I can see hints of it, but daylight is still hiding somewhere beyond the horizon. Oklahoma, maybe? That sun--I think one of his functions is to be a reminder of God's faithfulness to us.

And here I am figuratively in a different season of life while watching the daily arrival of a new season in nature in the literal sense.

The weather is changing, and still the sun comes up each morning. But no longer am I the one waking up to find him waiting for me as during the days of summer. Now it is time for autumn and winter when I must wake in the dark, trusting that he is on his way, and continue on mine.

Yet this darkness and delayed dawn is not bleak and without hope.

There is a beauty and stillness that belongs to winter alone. Sound never travels so far nor so clearly as on a winter's night. It is winter that prepares the soil for spring with melting mountain snow nourishing roots long into summer. Isn't in the dark winter seasons of our lives when we're waiting for God to show up that His voice pierces the darkness most clearly? And the things we learn in the cold, painful, lonely seasons, don't they become a continual source of life and growth as they water our roots after the winter has passed?

Autumn arrives with celebration--harvesting the fruit of trees, vine, plant. Fruit that gives life and sustains through the winter. So often I forget to celebrate the fruit of all that God brings forth in my life through changing seasons and circumstance.

And the foliage that worked so tirelessly to bring life to that fruit? It gives up its life in celebration, with a burst of brilliant color before retiring to the ground where it will eventually bring life to roots again. But not without a long winter. Perhaps these winter seasons are for a bit of resting? Maybe they aren't so bleak and silent after all.

It is past 8am, the coffee in my cup is nearly cold, but dawn is finally breaking low in the sky. And, so, the sun and the seasons he brings remind me this morning of God's faithfulness and intentionality in our lives. For He is more faithful and more purposeful still than the sun and seasons He created. How much more might I rest fully and confidently in Him!

Here comes the sun. I might just run outside to meet it and say hello.

Brittany, Part 1

2010-10-26T20:11:00.007-05:00

In my most recent prayer letter I promised Brittany's story. If you've been with me for a while, this will be a refresher. If you haven't heard this before, buckle-up!

Brittany's silence spoke loudly to me as we sat in our small group discussion Friday night. I was helping lead a weekend retreat for students involved with our ministry at Utah State University (two hours north of Salt Lake). I made it my goal to draw this mysterious English major out of her shell. By Saturday morning I began to doubt my chances of meeting the "real" Brittany. Over lunch, though, the floodgates opened and she hit me with a torrent of profound questions.

That cold February afternoon has been the highlight of my Utah experience thus far. The whole conversation is a blur in my memory, but somewhere along the way Brittany realized what it truly meant to have a personal relationship with God, that she didn't have one yet, and that she wanted to change that. During the course of our conversation Brittany prayed and invited Christ into her life. Here's part of a letter that she sent out at the end of March:

"This past winter I attended a retreat...and made a life-altering decision to allow God to lead me in my life and truly devote myself and my time to Him."

After making that life-altering decision, Brittany revealed more details of her recent spiritual journey. In the months prior to the retreat, she'd spent a great deal of time meeting with Mormon missionaries on her campus. What she didn't share with me until weeks later, was that 3 days after the retreat she was suppose to have an appointment to be baptized into the Mormon church. She canceled that appointment. Her decision to give her life to Christ was more timely than I could have imagined!

Brittany's jumped headfirst into following Jesus and is taking 10 days this summer to be part of a Summer Project in Mexico. Summer Projects are our short term mission trips and are by far the most effective too we offer to students for life transformation. I can't wait to hear from Brittany about her Summer Project experience.

Thanks to that year's H1N1 virus outbreak, Brittany never went to Mexico. She decided to go on a different summer project. Instead of 10 days, she spent the whole summer working with inner city kids in Indianapolis. If you stick around for Part 2 of her story, you'll see how that turned out and how maybe the swine flu was actually good for something.

Brittany, Part 2

2010-10-26T18:55:00.012-05:00

And here is Brittany 18 months later. Now an intern with Great Commission Ministries at Shepherd Community Center in Indianapolis. The following is a piece she wrote for my latest prayer letter:

Cru has been my foundation. I had given me the means of finding God and from there growing and following His call. It was because of people who trusted God and were believing and living a life according to His will that I became a believer. That was my beginning.
It wasn't until I embarked on my first summer project that I truly became acquainted with God. I went on The Heart of the City Indianapolis 2009 project. Placed in the depths of the inner city, working with kids who'd rather pick a fight than pick up a Bible or turn an ear to anything I had to say stripped me of everything worldly and anything belonging to my own strength.
I started to project frustrated with things like trying to find verses in the Bible because, oddly enough, the Bible isn't alphabetically categorized, who knew, not me. But slowly, with the warmth of God's community and the persistence of my Cru support, I began to truly experience God at work in my life.
I wasn't the one who could get up every morning and love on kids who didn't know how to sit down, had lice and fleas an other ailments galore, and more than one occasion professed their undying hatred toward me and my efforts to sacrifice my summer for them. No, this wasn't me. I didn't know how to love myself, let alone love them. God loving on me and giving me the strength and the eyes to see Him in me and in my kids pushed me.
I went back for a second round of this summer project, but 2010 style. I have learned to depend on Him for everything, but most importantly strength to reach out to these kids in the inner city. I want them to see and learn what I've come to know.
I am currently working as a year-long intern for Global Commissions Ministries at Shepherd Community Center, where I participated in both Cru summer projects. I am teaching middle school English, mentoring, and working in the after-school program on a day-to-day basis. Every day I will have an opportunity to reach 20+ kids in order to build relationships and provide them academic attention as well as opportunities to learn more about God, which they wouldn't have typically had.
I am working to develop a ministry team--a group of people who will join with me in this effort. for the year, I will need to raise $8,308.00. The GCM's donor website: www.gcmweb.org/give is a secure and easy-to-use website that enables a convenient way to give regularly towards my work at Shepherd.
Where I am right now, the people I'm able to reach and share/show god's love was primed by my foundation. I would never have gotten here without Cru. God puts the right people in our lives at the right time, and this definitely holds true for me, as I hope it does for my kids here in Indy.

I think this is so cool. Who knew all those months ago that through Brittany's changed life kids in inner-city Indianapolis would be reached?! I never would have guessed. I'm excited to be a part of Brittany's ministry and want to encourage you to join me in finishing-off her funding. GCM's giving website is linked above, and Brittany's blog is also linked under "People I've Met Along the Way".

When A Lightweight Wrestles God.

2010-10-22T19:33:00.016-05:00

A few weeks ago, in the depths of waiting to get better, a wise woman gave me this word of encouragement, "Emily, when God puts us on our backs like this, we just have to keep our ears to open for whatever lesson He may have to teach us about ourselves, how we interact with the world, cope with stress, whatever. Count this time as a privilege."

Good advice. I took it and in my weariness and impatience made it into a magic formula. I decided that if I could just figure out what this lesson was, then God would release me from the stranglehold of this stupid illness. Ah, the folly of my little human logic. I was treating God as though He were playing a cosmic game of "Uncle" with me. But it makes for an interesting story, so I'll tell you about the night I wrestled with God.

I have this great friend and every time one of us mentions wrestling with God the other inevitably asks, "How's your hip?" If the joke is lost on you, go here and you'll catch up in about 10 seconds. Anyway, this one's for you, Ross.

I went outside one night to sit and await/demand God's answer under the quiet of the stars.

Silence.

"Hey, God, I'm out here. Would You come meet me and tell me what I'm supposed to be learning in all this, please?"

Silence.

"God?"

Silence.

"Okay, listen up, God. I don't care about my dumb hip. I am wrestling You and I am not letting You go until You bless me and give me an answer for why all of this is happening!"

Silence.

More Silence.

"It's getting kind of cold out here, but I'm still wrestling You."

Silence.

"Okay, look, I'm cold. I'm going inside. You're the omniscient and omnipresent one here. You can come find me."

Silence.

A few minutes later I'm brushing my teeth (obviously still wrestling God with near Jacob-like intensity...I mean he lasted all night, I didn't even make it 10 minutes in the pee-wee division B-squad) and I started a mental dialogue: I don't get it. I mean God wouldn't let me go through this without giving an explanation, would He? No, He couldn't poss..i...b....l.....y......

"Job." That's what God spoke. One single word and it was the name of the man who got one heck of a rough deal, (makes anything I've ever gone through look like a hangnail) and received no explanation from God.

"Crap," was my first response. My second was to read Job 38-42. Reading with my face on the floor and crying sounds impossible, but somehow I managed. The water damaged pages in my Bible after the fact are proof. Those chapters have always been some of my favorites for the grandeur and power with which they describe God. That night they pierced my heart and humbled me. I realized in a fresh way just how holy God is and how sinful and separated from Him I am apart from Christ.

It's funny how much peace I got from not getting an answer. I realized that I needed an attitude adjustment. It doesn't matter if I ever get an answer. My job is to acknowledge and worship God for who He is. Period. Maybe that sounds crazy, but there is a lot of peace in that.

The next morning I went outside again, hoping that God would throw me a bone for learning that big lesson the night before and maybe, just maybe give me that answer I wanted anyway. (Some habits die hard.) I even went so far as to read Job 38-42 again. They hit me in the normal way, no profound moment there. And then I heard the following,

"Emily, come and take a walk with Me."

"Okay! Hey, do You want to take me really far, or can I go barefoot?"

"Whatever you want."

Barefoot it was. I started walking, wondering if God would tell me something profound. (At this point I was still fairly sick, so going on a walk like this was really quite a treat). About a half mile from the house is a long dirt road and it felt great under my feet. As I started down it, He gave me the most incredible invitation.

"Want to open 'er up and see what she can do?"

I just smiled, started running and let the wind hit my face in that familiar way. It was one of the most wonderful things I've felt in a long time. (p.s.-I was still in my pajamas and not giving a rip)
So, while I don't know what God is doing, I know that He loves me. I know that He doesn't owe me an explanation.

"Who is this that darkens My counsel with words without knowledge?
Brace yourself like a man: I will question you, and you shall answer Me.
Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation?
Tell Me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions?
Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it?
On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone---while the morning stars sang together and the angels shouted for joy?"
"Can you raise your voice to the clouds and cover yourself with a flood of water? Do you send the lightning bolts on their way?
Do they report to you , 'Here we are'?"
Job 38:1-7;34-35

Showing my age.

2010-10-18T20:54:00.003-05:00

I picked up my mail at the PO box today only to find 4 or 5 health insurance claims forms and the quarterly report from my 503(b) investment (that's pretty much a 401k for people who work for non-profits).
Of course I tore into my investment report like it was Christmas morning just to see how the little guy is doing. Yeah, somewhere along the way I started getting really excited about my retirement account and saving money.
And then came a moment I wasn't expecting: the double-fist pump and cheer when I opened up the insurance claim and found out I met my deductible. Wow.
Maybe I need a rocking chair and 7 cats.

That Barefoot Yankee Vagrant

2010-10-16T17:24:00.002-05:00

I've continued to walk and run barefoot with my improving health. My feet are tough and strong and I really am enjoying the feel of the ground directly under the soles of my feet. The whole thing remains in experimental stage. It's very fun and even feels mildly edgy. But I keep reminding myself that I am just trying something new and am out there with nothing to prove.
I made a firm decision that if my feet begin to resemble the feet of any of the following, I will quit immediately:
-Frodo Baggins
-chimpanzee
-shoeless, deck-swabbing, pirate from any Robert Louis Stevenson novel

I often wonder what my neighbors think as they pass me. Do they think I'm going swimming somewhere? Got locked out of my house without my shoes? Dirty hippy moving into a nice Republican neighborhood? I make a point to wear my expensive running sunglasses when I go out so that I don't look so much like a vagrant.

One of my first days of feeling better I decided to take a real run. Barefoot, of course. (up until this point, I'd been taking walks and running bits and pieces) It was a glorious day and the sun felt wonderful on my face and shoulders. I know I had a huge smile on my face. The wonderful thing about being barefoot was how incredible the sun-warmed dirt road felt under my feet and between my toes. After a good long stretch of running I got to thinking, Man, all of this being sick really has taken a toll on my lung capacity. Feels pretty tight in there. At which point I looked at my watch. Oh, Emily, you dork! You've been running at 8 min/mile pace! (My normal pace is more along the lines of 10 min/mile) I slowed it down and the lungs held-up just fine. That sure was a fun way to start off running again.

One week later....for now I am putting the barefoot experiment on hold. Not because I'm in danger of developing hobbit feet, though. Two road-killed rattlesnake babies between our driveway and the entrance to the development make me wonder just how many of them are out there and crossing the road...then there's the tarantula, and the 3 large communities of enormous ants (what do fire ants look like, I wonder?) on my favorite dirt road. Going to make the official call that it is not worth it. For now.
But I must raise my coffee cup to honor those that settled this mean old chunk of Texas panhandle. Those men and women had a whole lot of pluck. Hats off to you.

Arachnophobes, skip this one.

2010-10-16T16:34:00.005-05:00

We have a dog that barks. A lot. Mostly it's at birds or the horses standing on the other side of his fence. When he was standing barking at the wall, I decided to check it out first before scolding him.
Not sure if I took the Lord's name in vain, or was asking for His protection with what I shouted next. Either way, the dog sat down like he was in big-time trouble. But this, my friends, is what was on the patio wall.

I am not sure if this is an actual tarantula or just a tarantula-sized spider.

I don't usually get worked-up about a spider. I'm from the NORTH, folks. We have stuff like this. It's safely locked in a cage at a zoo. We just have the little guys to deal with. Definitely nothing bigger than a quarter. And my spider philosophy has always been to either coexist or shut-up and kill it without making a fuss.
But THIS?! This giant?! Now, before anyone gets all PETA, spider's got-a-right-to-life on me, let me explain: for the past 2 months between the kitten, the dogs, and the sheer audacity of the little critters, I've caught at least a dozen live frogs in the house, the kitten brings in dead toads, and live mice that she's playing with.
"Osama!" (That's what I call the cat for her terrorist activities) "If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times, PICK UP YOUR TOYS!"
(I realize the picture I just painted sounds a bit vermin-infested...it really isn't. My parents have a very nice home.)
But with that background, suddenly seeing a spider that will probably get into a wrestling match with the kitten and the victor likely dragging the defeated into the house....however that one turns out...I give the cat a 50/50 shot. OR this spider could very well walk up to the back door and use one of its bajillion legs to turn the knob and walk right in, tip-toe to my bedroom and crawl into the empty space next to me. You see my point. Immediate and lethal action was the only way to go. Read: step dad.
"Tarantula? Well, it is that time of year, I guess."
Not exactly the reassurance I was hoping for, but he did kill it dead. And that was all I wanted.

Deadpan.

2010-10-14T20:38:00.004-05:00

Recently I've been going to see a massage therapist. Turns out I have these really cool muscle spasms that can cause so much pain I throw-up. For some people the massage-therapist might be a no-brainer. They'd even jump at the excuse to throw themselves down on the massage table. Not me. It's either this or muscle relaxers. I am less excited about more medication than I am about a stranger touching me. So, massage it is.
It's not my first rodeo with massage therapy. But I still find it ironic how my discomfort with all the physical contact makes me more tense. I'll be laying there and realize that I've had a death grip on the table for the past 10 minutes.
It's no surprise that physical touch ranks dead last for me on love languages. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, The 5 Love Languages are a fascinating way to look at the different ways that we give and receive love. And in the words of today's youth, "it's legit." I'd recommend the book, but check out the website for a quick idea. You can even take the quiz and find out what yours are.
The other day I'm lying there trying to relax (not very well) and I can't help but wonder, What in the world is it with these places and pan flute music? Why is that the universal sound of relaxation? And how often do you think pan flute players bore themselves to sleep? Or worse? Death by pan flute. What a way to go. Not exactly down in flames, but certainly novel.

Armchair, M.D.

2010-10-09T18:51:00.011-05:00

Confession: I do not have a medical degree. What I do have under my belt are years of medical drama on television. Let's call that the "Armchair M.D."
The A M.D. degree has given me the false impression that when I walk into the hospital I will have a specialized team of diagnosticians focused on only ME. And they will run every test in the book immediately just because they can. There is no question as to whether or not this is in-network, out-of-network, meeting my deductible, and who exactly is footing the bill for all this jazz. Most importantly, the treatment works right away and very conveniently into a 1-hour time slot. It's wonderful.
So, it's been a struggle to understand why it takes my medicine so long to work. It's hard for people that want me to get better quickly because it appears that I am taking a very passive approach, when really this is just the way it works. And since I don't have that genuine medical degree, all I can say is that it takes a while for the chemicals to build up and really do something. I like to think of it like a flash mob. Like this:

I simply must point out the man just left of center in the blue dress shirt and tie. In my mind I've named him "Middle Management Steve." Every time I see this clip I end up looking at him. Maybe it's because his timing is just a touch off and I think, "I'm with you M.M.S., I'd be behind everyone, too." But really, I think it's his enthusiasm that's so darn endearing. Go get 'em, Stevo.

Eye of the Tiger, baby.

2010-10-08T05:56:00.005-05:00

You haven't heard from me (if you have, you've been one of the lucky few) for a long time because I've been feeling like J-U-N-K. The first round of drugs never really did the trick past those first few clicks of the bicycle gears that I mentioned in an earlier post. So we moved to something with more firepower, but still had to wait, wait, w...a....i.......t........ for those to kick in. It's been 6 weeks now and we thought it would take at least 3 more days of drugs building up in the system before I felt anywhere close to this good. I'm okay with early.

At some undetermined point in the wee hours of the morning my eyelids popped open and my body said, "Okay, Emily, we are done sleeping now." (don't ask me why, but my body always talks about itself in the first person plural). And then it started.

Buh. buh-buh-buh. Risin' up, back on the street. Did my time took my chances. Went the distance now I'm back on my feet. Just a man and his will to survive. (Insert mumbled lyrics I can't remember here) It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight...

By the time I actually looked at a clock it was 5:15. I didn't get out of bed for a while mostly because I knew what would happen as soon as I hit the coffee pot: a raucous 3-dog rodeo of sheer breakfast joy. Eventually, though, even I got annoyed with Eye of the Tiger and the stupid lyrics that I couldn't remember, so I got up.

My step dad is always up at unseemly hours for work, so he looked a bit surprised to see me walk (not stumble) into the kitchen.
"What in the world are you doing up?"
"I am done sleeping. It's the Eye of the Tiger day."
"Okay."

Ba-da bing. That is my morning. I like it and I am grateful that it has arrived.

"Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you."-Ephesians 5:14b

Okay, hilarious sidenote that I cannot let slide: I looked-up the lyrics to Eye of the Tiger just to make sure I wasn't going to find out through mockery that I've had the words wrong all these years. Have you ever been to some of these lyric websites? One had "It's the eye of the tiger, it's the CREAM of the fight." How that made sense to anyone, I don't know...but it sure made me chuckle.

Venezuela, Part 2. The Scenery Shots.

2010-09-21T20:07:00.008-05:00

Getting off the plane in El Vigia. From there it was a 90 min bus ride to Merida.

Posada Guamanchi. I can't tell you how many months of my life I've lived here. It's a great place. Looks tiny from the front, but you'd be surprised. Pleasantly so.

Just an ordinary bus on an ordinary downtown afternoon.

When it comes to taxi cabs, anything goes. And all those people are waiting in line at one of the busier bus stops. (It's not a school bus if it's painted white).

Downtown sidewalk walking. I'm not sure how it is in other countries, but unlike the U.S. there's no sense of uniformity in sidewalk width, height, existence, or obstruction by open manholes or power poles. This is a normal looking section. Sometimes not dying while walking on them is a real art form. Pretty much the only reason why I'm still alive is because other people have pulled me back in from traffic. I'm not too proud to admit it.

The twilight view from one of the Posada balconies. I really do love this city.

I got to have these mountains out my windows for 2 whole years. It sure was nice to see them again. One morning the clouds were particularly dramatic. Who has two thumbs and appreciates teammates with sweet cameras and photography skills? This girl!

And this is what those same mountains look like without the dramatic cloud cover. Behind that tall peak, is actually the highest peak in all of Venezuela: Bolivar Peak (16,427ft).

Cathedral in downtown Merida.

One of the smaller towns up the valley from Merida.

Highland agriculture on our way up the pass to the hotter, flatter state of Barinas for our mid-project retreat.

Jesse and Bethany at Lake Mucubaji (Moo-koo-bah-HE) at the top of the pass. It was chilly up there! I think the Montanans on the team enjoyed a few minutes by an alpine lake. (and Jesse is the one who took these great photos).

High alpine stream. Introvert Emily made a mad dash for the rocks and a little re-charge time.

Barefoot Interlude

2010-09-21T18:55:00.002-05:00

In the midst of the healing and waiting, I've done a bit of barefoot shuffling up and down the driveway. Exercise and exposure to sunlight are two things I can to do help boost my brain's serotonin production. I'll admit that while I was so exhausted, I did a lot more sitting in the sunshine than exercising.
But the attractive thing about barefoot running was that I am still at the point where I'm just toughening up my feet and should really only go for a few minutes a day. It was a perfect fit!

So now I've been doing much better for 5 whole days and I am starting to get a bit more adventurous. My feet are tough enough now that I can handle the loose pea gravel of our lightly traveled street. Over the weeks I've progressed from a patiently standing on that sharp junk, to hobbling, then slow, wincing steps, then a grandma shuffle, and now a normal brisk walk. It is pretty cool!
I made it to the end of our street today for the first time. And I had the fun realization that once I get down the 1/10th mile of our sharp street, I'm on a more highly traveled road, which feels like butter.
Things might get exciting here soon. So, the barefoot experiment has outlasted the free pedicure at least. Meh, we'll see. No promises, though.

Long Overdue: Venezuela. The People Shots

2010-09-20T17:11:00.041-05:00

Our team with Keith after a day of sharing on the Geography campus.

Bethany, Keith, Emily. We were all pretty exhausted by this point in the evening. Keith was pretending like he didn't take an overnight bus to come visit. Also pretending like he actually got hot water in his shower. Also pretending like he wasn't about to get on another overnight bus to go back home.

Erin, Emily, and Brenna.

Bethany O., Dave, Aaron, and Grace at Mogambo's restaurant.

Erin, Bethany O., Danielle, Brenna, Leah, and Jenn (front) after a weekly meeting on the Forestry campus.

Me with my very tiny friend Elvia at an outreach Fiesta. I kind of forgot she was up there. I carry a heavier pack when I go backpacking.

Outreach Fiesta. Because it's not salsa or merengue, we'll call it "dancing like white people."

JJ, Bethany S., Luis, Yuliana, Emily, and Wale. They said, "make a face." Check.

Got to love a zoo where you can touch the monkeys. Liability laws? Who needs 'em?

Mid-project retreat....we ran really hard on-campus and took a couple of days to play hard, too. Lots of screaming on the zipline!

Hammock wonderland!

I taught them all the Preston family tradition of upside-down hammock hanging. Bethany took this as an invitation to a personal, cushioned hammock. Joke's on her. It was just a steely mass of muscle. Posture-pedic hammock, I guess.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, Erin would like to demonstrate for you the proper way to apply insect repellent....pay attention. This is serious. She teaches elementary schoolers.

Yeah, she thought that was pretty funny, too. Thanks for your rapt attention, folks. Cookies and chocolate milk for everyone!

Skepto-mania

2010-09-17T20:37:00.004-05:00

Every morning I get up wondering if this is going to be the day that I'm going to be *Ka-BAM!* full of energy and all better. I walk to the coffee pot looking over my shoulder, mostly in a figurative sense, but sometimes literally, expecting the familiar wall of fatigue to hit me. And in the past couple weeks of waiting for these meds to kick-in, that's pretty much how I go about the day.

The past 2 mornings it hasn't been the dramatic *Ka-BAM!* that I was expecting. What I'm experiencing feels more like the soft click of shifting gears on a bike. When I wake up it feels easier to pedal than it did the day before, which is GREAT feeling. And I've been able to stay awake all day and even be functional. Awesome!

In the midst of this I am definitely seeing Emily the Skeptic and the Mocker more clearly. She's always there with the "Yeah, but's..." "Yeah, you're feeling pretty good now, Preston, but how long is that going to last?" "Yeah, God's been good to you now, but..." And the skepticism and lies from the toilet can just continue on from there, if I let them. So I try not to.

But maybe that's part of the lesson that I get to learn, part of the refining that I get to go through in this season? Learning to actively rest in the TRUTH of Who God is. He is good. I've given my life to telling people that, so maybe I should start living it a little more, huh? I know, I know, we'll spend a lifetime growing in our understanding of our relationship with Him in light of His character.

2010-09-15T18:50:00.002-05:00

"give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."
-1 Thessalonians 5:18

I read that last night and my heart sank as tears welled-up. They were good tears. Godly sorrow that brings repentance (2 Cor 7:10) sort of tears as I realized that here I am in this sickness complaining. But I've forgotten about giving thanks in ALL circumstances. Sometimes that word "all" can really sting, you know? But it's right there in God's word. And I did a little bit of research. It turns out that in the original Greek "all circumstances," really isn't that bad. It actually just means, "EVERYTHING."
I'm making a joke, but the tears indicate that I'm learning a serious lesson. Whether I see it or not, I am called to give thanks. I'd like to be the kind of person who gives sincere thanks. So while I may not see a whole lot to be thankful for in the crevasse of this sickness, I'm going to try giving thanks by faith a try.

"Why, Shirley, that inheritance IS delightful!"

2010-09-10T18:48:00.005-05:00

LORD, You have assigned me my portion and my cup;
You have made my lot secure.
the boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance. -Psalm 16:5-6

So, an ironic twist to the new chapter of joy: I am going through the physical symptoms of depression. Some of you might be able to personally relate to this. If you've never been through it, let me just say, it is miserable. It's like slogging through wet cement. Taking a shower is exhausting to the point of being almost painful. I feel so little like myself that I don't even want to engage with anyone because I just feel flat and not myself.Okay, so here's the deal: in January of 2007 (feel free to go check out the blog archives from '07 to get more of the story) I got really sick while I was living in Venezuela. Eventually I came back to the US to try and get some answers I couldn't get in Venezuela.
I'll give you the short version of what the Infectious Disease doc said. I got a mosquito-borne infection somewhere in Venezuela and for most people it would have been no big whoop. But my body overreacted to it and actually shifted my brain chemistry. Kinda cool, except it waaay screwed up my brain.
The end result is that I am very low on serotonin, just like people that have depression. So, all the same symptoms and same medication. The awesome thing is that it's an easy fix, really. Just some meds that don't really have much side-effect.

I've known since this whole process started that as time wore on the medication would plateau in its effect and I'd have to start taking a higher dose. Not really a big deal, exactly, except the only way I know it's time is when I hit the plateau. Well, I hit the plateau. I'm not sure how long I've been here because it takes a while to figure it out. But I'll tell you this much, they call it a plateau, but it feels more like a crevasse. Crevasse with a capital...well, I'll let you choose which 3 letters of crevasse I want to capitalize and we'll keep this a family place. It's deep, dark, lonely, and I am just waiting for help to arrive. The extra meds should do just that any day now.

One of these mornings I am fully expecting to wake up with those drugs dancing around my brain like some sort of dream team of Shakira meets Beyonce meets Justin Timberlake pretending to be Beyonce and I will be singing some sort of victory song. ("Eye of the Tiger" has been my standard, but it doesn't really fit with the dance crew I've just lined up...could go with Shakira, but her videos don't go with my earlier "family place" comment, so let's go with "Footloose." It's a classic, plus there's this suh-weet video I can put up with it).

Playing footsie

2010-09-07T22:16:00.003-05:00

The barefoot running experiment continues. Still liking it so far. Breaking in the new "shoes" is a slow process though.
I did not have the courage to tell Yong the nail technician about it during the pedicure. She kind of thinks I'm a little crazy already. "You so pretty. I don't know why you aren't dating." Meh. Whatever. And then I asked her for a French tip paint job on the toes and she looked at me a bit horrified, "Your bruises are going to show!" (I have some killer bruised toenails from trail running last month. I figure a battle scar is no good if you don't get a chance to show it).
At another point she said, "Make sure you take care of your nails. You runners, always running in too small shoes and coming in with deformed nails." "Oh, don't you worry, Yong. My shoes definitely will not be too tight."
As I continue to get my feet adjusted to this whole barefoot concept, there's a bit of toughening-up to do. And I today as I looked at my scuffed up soles, I laughed realizing that I should have been explaining barefoot running to my FEET during the pedicure. If I had, it would have gone something like this: "You see, Feet, right now you are covered in lotion and wrapped in hot towels. But pretty soon you little princesses will be looking hard core. Don't get used to this. You'll just have to take it on faith that whole verse about 'how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.'"

Joyful, joyful, and a bulldozer.

2010-09-03T15:25:00.009-05:00

In the night forlorn,
ah, the morning's born,
and the morning shines
with the lights of love.
You will miss the sunrise
if you close your eyes,
and that would break
my heart in two.
-Townes Van Zandt, "If I Needed You."

This new season of joy puzzles me at times. For the past week I have been down and O-U-T with a migraine. Yeah, a week-long migraine. Well, it took Sunday off, so maybe it's holy. But pretty much a week of having zero capacity for anything. Sometimes I could read, or check email, or an all-important Facebook status update. I don't get it. I'm supposed to be taking the world by storm right now. I'm supposed to be raising support like a hurricane and busting my way to Dallas like nobody's business so that I, Emily Preston, can singlehandedly save thousands upon thousands of people from dying of waterborne illnesses, lift them out of poverty and put the Gospel in their hands.

Right.

The thing about these headaches is that they feel an awful lot like a bulldozer attack (no, I've never been attacked by a bulldozer) and the only weapon I have is a little slingshot full of these teeny, tiny pills the doctor gave me. Hey, have you ever tried to stop a bulldozer with a pill? Yeah, good luck with that. Maybe if you are a good thrower. But it appears that, for me, pills are just like any other object: I throw them like a girl. A scrawny girl who is not at the top of her fourth grade gym class, for that matter. *tink*tink* The pills hit the windshield (pretend with me that they get that high) and the bulldozer scoffs in diesel fumes and keeps on a comin'.

I'm not entirely sure why I get these headaches. But I have a couple of theories. First, they are a big, fat reminder that I need God and I need other people. Good grief, did you read that paragraph about how I'm supposed to be taking the world by storm? Productive? Sure. But who wants to be friends with Hurricane Emily? She's just a pride monster. It is a good thing to need help from other people. It is a good thing to be weak and allow God's strength to be shown through me, to me and around me. These verses came to mind this morning:

"But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.' therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. that is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
2 Corinthians 12:9-10

And my second theory has to do with the song lyrics at the beginning of this post. In the night forlorn the morning's born. Let me explain. Last night as I was getting ready for bed I finally started feeling really good. And I started getting really excited about the next day. A few things in particular were getting my blood pumping and my smile muscles working. Call me simple, but I was genuinely excited about the sun coming up. I just wanted to run out of the house and yell "Good Morning!!" to it. But I still had a few hours of sleeping before I could do that. And there I was taking my new headache medication, which means one and a half pills. Tricky. And then I had this ridiculous thought (I kid you not), "Oooh! Maybe this means someone will get me a pill cutter for Christmas!" Are you kidding me?! Who thinks that?! Who gets excited about a pill cutter? Sincerely excited about a pill cutter.

In the brighter moments of the headache, I'd finished reading the book Born to Run, which inspired me to give barefoot running a try. I pattered up and down the driveway a few times that evening while playing fetch with the dog and LOVED it, so I was really looking forward to trying it out a bit more. (Please digress with me and laugh at the irony of becoming inspired to pick up barefoot running while incapacitated by a migraine. Multiply that by twenty because I'm going to have to explain this to Yong, the Korean-Texan-American nail technician when we go in for a mother-daughter pedicure appointment tomorrow. Let's just say either the pedicure or the barefoot running is going to stick around, but it won't be both).
I think it's this with the headaches: they are the night forlorn. That long, lonely, painful place that sharpens the vision to see the first shafts of morning light creeping across the sky and sends out the alarm that it's time to grab the cup of coffee and get ready to stand in the driveway and yell, "GOOD MORNING!" to the sun because it's finally coming! And wouldn't you hate to miss seeing it rise? If it weren't for the headaches, I'd be content with sleeping through the sunrise and might take for granted the fact that the sun had risen at all. (If you're rolling your eyes because you think I've gone cliche with the sunrise I'll give you Option B: I would take for granted the fact that somebody got me a pill cutter for Christmas and the simple/bizarre joy of being properly medicated.)
And while I am keeping my eyes open in that night forlorn, waiting, it gives God an opportunity to show up in a way that only He can. In my weakness He pulls through and His power rests on me. Shoot, if that's not cool, I don't know what is.

Funk Off.

2010-08-29T20:39:00.002-05:00

Hmmmm...nearly 4 months since the last blog post. Where to pick up? Well, if it's been a while since we've chatted, I changed jobs (more on that later), moved to Texas (again), and entered into a de-lightful (drink in the sarcasm) communication funk.
Well, cheer-up, little campers, the funk is off!
A couple of weeks ago I packed up the last of my things at the house in Salt Lake and started hauling the trailer eastward over the mountains. I wasn't exactly sure what to expect from the day, but I was thinking something more along the line of tears, wistful musing about the chapter I left behind in Utah, maybe even a little fear about what's to come in Dallas. YET, what I experienced was none of the above. (Sidenote for my dearly loved and missed Utahans: just because I did not experience any of those things, I STILL REALLY, REALLY LOVE YOU...and not because you are maybe the only people who read this)
What I felt that day was joy. It was like God just flipped a switch and tired, melancholy, communication-funky Emily was gone and in her place was joyful, content, confident, singing like Nashville talent scouts had bugged her truck for sound. (Why is it that some of us only sing really well alone in our cars? I digress.) I was blindsided by joy and it was incredible.
And the next morning after staying with some great friends in Colorado Springs, I sat outside of a coffee shop soaking up the morning light and drinking a cup of coffee with Pike's Peak. The grandeur of the backdrop led me to Psalm 121 (if you don't know what I'm talking about check it out here ) and then there was the last verse, "the LORD will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore." Psalm 121:8. Right there in that moment it was like God was reminding me of what He's been saying to me all along, "Emily, I'm not kidding. I love you. Always have. Always will." (He uses a Braveheart accent for that last line because He likes that movie, too).
So, that's it for now. Lots of big changes. A new season of joy. And hopefully a little more excitement for those of you cruising by the ole blogspot.

This year in US Campus Ministry....

2010-05-08T10:42:00.002-05:00

This is 3 minutes well spent (and countless hours, I'm sure, on the part of the folks that put it together). Even though I've spent the past 2 years in campus ministry in the U.S. I couldn't help but be encouraged at this snapshot of what God is doing in the lives of university students nationwide.

Stolen goods in an offshore account.

2010-03-21T18:24:00.003-05:00

I waver. Just how smart is the dog, I wonder? There are times where she seems to know exactly what's going on and how to push my buttons. Like how she used to poop right outside of my bedroom door as a puppy, or how she peed in my bed when I'd been gone too long and then just watched me with innocence in her eyes as I crawled between the sheets. Or the time that I found a large kitchen knife carefully placed across the doorway to her kennel. Should I be sleeping with one eye open, Dog?

But sometimes she's not too bright, like when Brian and Beth play hide and seek with her and it takes her forever to find Brian hiding behind the chair...the same place he was the last time they played the game...2 minutes ago.

Today we came home and saw that the dogs had broken into the closet and helped themselves to the bag of rawhide chews. Clever. Needless to say we were greeted by happy dogs and a pile of bones. Hannah took one out to the yard to hide for later. She's never been great at burying things, but that hasn't stopped her from making an effort. I noticed her flinging the landscaping rock around with her snout and decided to investigate. This is what I found:

Again, I waver. Is this lunacy or out of the box thinking at its finest? Either way, she's got some work to do on the burying skills. But I'll at least give her some creativity points.

Freedom for Captives

2010-02-13T18:54:00.004-06:00

As I reflect on what God did as a result of our V-Week outreach, I am reminded again and again of these sweet verses from Isaiah 61:1-3

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion--to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.

This was the message that we were hoping to convey through our evening program, and let me just say that our speaker did an incredible, God-honoring job of doing just that. She communicated her own story of pain and healing in a very real and accessible way to a group of 30 women. There was something in her story and the way that she communicated it that made it very accessible to everyone in the room.

We knew that one thing we did not want to do with the evening was have anyone feel like we pulled a "bait and switch" move on them by inviting them to an event where they would feel trapped by someone sharing the Gospel with them. So, we took a break partway through our speaker's story, letting everyone know that the second part of the evening would be primarily about how Jesus entered into her healing process. We let the women know that if they weren't comfortable listening to that part of the story, they were free to leave at the break, judgment-free. We simply wanted to honor to women wherever they happened to be in their spiritual journeys.

I was shocked to look around the room after the break and see that NO ONE left. And after the program was done, the majority of the women lingered in groups talking quietly with one another. An hour after the program was done, I looked across the room to see my teammate, Amie, sitting next to a young student named Amanda and holding open a familiar booklet and sharing about how she could know God personally. Amie came up to me later and told me what the freshman had said to her, "That part about God knocking at the door of my heart: well, He's doing that. I just don't know how to open the door. Can you tell me how to open the door?"

Wow. That's a "pinch-me" sort of moment in campus ministry. This particular student comes from an LDS background and said that she really needed to think through and process what Amie shared with her about Jesus. Please pray for Amanda. Pray that she would come to know the Truth and that the Truth would, indeed, set her free.

Beauty for Ashes

2010-02-10T01:04:00.005-06:00

This week is V-Week at Westminster: a campus-wide event to raise awareness about sexual violence against women. Today we joined in and spent the lunch rush at the student union handing out these roses to women. I thoroughly enjoyed spectating as Amie and Danielle offered a flower to every woman that passed. I don't know how they did it, but I think they engaged with every single woman walking by. And while not everyone took them up on the offer, it certainly wasn't because they weren't given the opportunity!

My favorite part was watching their faces light up as they realized that the rose was free and came with nothing more than an invitation attached. One woman even left skipping. But I'd say that student might be particularly prone to skipping.

Amie and Danielle sought out the more "invisible" women: those hiding behind earphones and hats pulled low, food service, and custodial staff. It was this group of invisible women that appeared to be the most startled and blessed by the offered rose. Those were the sweetest smiles to see.

The darndest things...

2010-02-05T17:26:00.003-06:00

One of the really fun parts of my job is all of the one on one coffee dates that I get to have with women who are a part of our ministry. Recently I had a conversation that left me in stitches. When I asked one student what God was teaching her, she said, "Lately I've been reading the Bible and it applies perfectly to my life."

"Oh really?! Tell me more..."

"Well, I just read in Leviticus about menstruating women. That pretty much describes where I'm at."

"It is my first time play bowling."

2010-02-03T12:31:00.002-06:00

Once a month we combine the men's and women's small groups at Westminster and do some sort of social activity. Last night we went bowling.

One of the newest additions to our small group this semester is a young woman that just moved to Westminster as an international student from China. She is a Christian, and since I'm not sure if there are any security issues for her, I won't post her picture or use her real name. I'll just call her Kelly. Kelly doesn't speak too much English yet, but she's so outgoing that it doesn't seem to make a difference. She was excited to go bowling and doubly excited to have remembered her camera.

As we were walking in from the parking lot we noticed Kelly had fallen behind. Why? She was standing in the middle of the parking lot taking a picture of the front of the bowling alley. Pictures, pictures, everywhere.

Kelly, it turns out, had some beginner's luck. After her first spare she was jumping and screaming and announced to our group, "See, I told you Chinese people is smart." After her second spare she was running so excitedly to high-five me that she almost ran over another student who stepped in to congratulate her. Her enthusiasm was contagious.

As we were leaving and complimenting her on her bowling accomplishments she just said over and over, "Thank you. You so friendly."

I can't wait until she gets some more English under her belt and is able to communicate with us more clearly. Something tells me she's got a lot of great stories to share.

This one's for Little Heidi

2010-01-29T08:40:00.002-06:00

So maybe I just wanted to be able to use the phrase, "After a one year hiatus, Emily has returned to the blogging scene." Or maybe I figure the common man needs some quality humor now that Conan is off the air and we're left with Jimmy Fallon? Or maybe, just maybe, I'm coming out of a communication funk....

Heidi, as the one person I know who actually checks this page, this brief announcement is for you: I'm back!!

That's it. Don't really have too much time or blogworthy news to rocket out into cyberspace. But surely I'll come up with something in the next few days.

Three reasons why I love what I do

2009-01-19T14:26:00.004-06:00

I'd like you to meet (from left to right) Jackie, Amie, and Josh. They're cozied up with "Aunt Em," a Westminster College landmark on Halloween afternoon (which explains the fairy wings). These three students have been a great highlight to my time in Utah so far.

Even though they all attend the same small school, they didn't really get to know each other until our fall retreat. And I'd say about a week after that they became something akin to the Musketeers.

Each Wednesday morning they make the ultimate sacrifice that college students can make: they wake up early and meet us in their dining hall at 8am. This is the only time that they can all get together with us and their commitment to showing up each week is so sweet.

Westminster is a small, private liberal arts college. The students that attend are intimidatingly intelligent. More than once I've found myself telling Jackie, "Well, it's not like you snuck in here on the Stupid Scholarship." Their intelligence and their passion have combined, at the moment, to create an environment that seems very hostile to the Gospel.

This is the environment where Josh, Jackie and Amie live. And these are the students that they are committed to reaching. Jackie told me one day, "I think God brought me from Oregon to Utah just to reach this campus." She and Josh are both freshmen, but already desiring to take leadership in their movement on campus. Honestly, I can't wait to see what God does with this group in the next 3 years.

Take a moment, would you, and pray with me that God will continue to give us vision for reaching Westminster College with the Gospel. Pray that He would use these students to introduce others to life-changing relationships with Jesus.

We used to have a roof over the deck...

2009-01-08T10:58:00.004-06:00

What kills me about this is that the roof collapsed because the wood gave way under the weight of the snow (not that much snow, either). Flimsy plastic? That held up like nobody's business.

Say what?!

2008-11-23T20:21:00.002-06:00

Overheard in this morning's sermon: "Jesus was with his inner circle. Peter Jennings and John..."

That's what I heard. It's not what the pastor said. Guess it's a good thing that I don't work as the girl that types closed captions, eh?

Pick-up line of the century

2008-11-18T14:07:00.002-06:00

I meant to post this a few weeks ago, but thankfully it's the kind of story that is, shall we say, timeless.

My roommates and I were sitting in a local pizza joint after a movie when a random guy came in and walked up to me saying, "I just got some gummy pizza candy out of the vending machine outside. Would you like a slice?"

"Oh, no thanks," I say, "I'm trying to quit all varieties of gummy candy."

"Well that's too bad, 'cause I was going to ask you out, but I just couldn't bring myself to date anyone that doesn't eat gummy candy." He walked a few steps away to the soda fountain. Me, I'm sitting with my roommates still in shock over the strangeness of what just happened.

That's when gummy pizza boy pipes up again, "What I mean to say is you're out of my league."

And a moment later he continues,"Did I say that right? What I mean to say is that you are Charmin Ultra and I am generic brand."

Seriously, how is a girl supposed to respond to this sort of comment?

My special friend returned to the table one more time to clarify, "You're Angel Soft and I am the kind that hurts."

Wow.

Thanks, Gummy Pizza Boy, for making me laugh until I cried. And while he didn't exactly sweep me off my feet, maybe, just maybe, he wiped me off of them.

The Utah Life

2008-10-09T12:05:00.011-05:00

So it's been a while since I've posted. I can hardly believe that I've been in Utah for almost 2 months! There is so much to say, but I'll keep it short and tell you that I absolutely love my job, love my team, love the students we work with, and love the scenery! Here are a few photos of the first 2 months in Utah. There's me with my teammate/roommate Julie, teammate Alex, Ultimate Dodge ball at our fall retreat and tailgating with our University of Utah students before a Utes game.

(This is Hannah drunk on belly scratches. Such a clown!)

New Beginnings

2008-08-17T07:42:00.002-05:00

It seemed, at times, that this moment would never arrive. But here it is: moving day. All of my financial support came in on Thursday night. (Interestingly enough I had been praying that I would be done raising support by August 15th and with a fluke phone call on the night of the 14th God brought in every last dollar. Praise the Lord!)

By Friday I had the official green light to go ahead and move, so here it is Sunday morning and I am getting ready to pull out of the driveway in just a couple of hours.

Trusty Jeff Gordon (the car) is all packed with plenty of room for Hannah to copilot. We'll spend the day driving across southern Colorado on our way to visit some of our bestest friends Heidi and Brandon in Fort Collins. Then it's off to meet the new team and new roommates in Salt Lake. Standing on the brink of great adventure and the next big chapter in life it all feels a bit surreal.

Add to that the fact that it's been exactly one year since I arrived at my parents' home in Texas. I'm not one to remember dates and put great significance in them. But it just so happens that today is my birthday, and I'm laughing to remember that last year I spent my birthday driving with my mom from Fort Collins to Texas. Ha!

Reason #27 why I am not a cat person

2008-07-29T11:52:00.004-05:00

I wouldn't exactly describe myself as a cat person. I'm not anti-cat, but let's just say that I didn't spend my last year in Venezuela daydreaming about coming home and getting my own cat.

It just so happens that my mom got a new barn cat while the rest of us were out of town a couple weeks ago. I will concede that she is pretty cute...despite being a real yowler. And so far she's been feisty enough to evade Hannah's attempts to turn her into the newest squeaky toy, so I've got to give the little girl credit. Her name is Clementine. I've since taken liberties with her name and started calling her Myddie since my first significant interaction with her was helping take care of her eye that was infected with chlamydia. (Apparently that's normal, but I can't get past how gross it sounds). Myddie works just fine for me.

Last night we had a whopper of a rain storm. Unfortunately we are discovering that the roof of our new barn leaks like crazy, so li'l Myddie ran outside seeking shelter under our friend Holly's truck and thus begins the saga....

Holly needed to cut her visit short and as she was getting ready to leave we realized that Myddie was no longer just under the truck but had climbed up into the undercarriage to avoid the standing water accumulating in the driveway.

Plan A was to startle her and hope she'd take off running from the truck. But after several minutes of banging on the sides of the truck and setting off the panic alarm, still no Myddie.

That's when we moved to Plan B: Emily crawling under the truck (note previous comment about standing water) for operation Kitty Extraction. I have no idea where she was hiding but she was doing it well. We could hear her cry every once in a while, but couldn't see her. And you better believe I crawled all around under the truck on my back looking.

Holly helped out by hitting the panic button a few times while I was under the truck. It was nowhere near as loud as I expected it would be. That's a plus, I guess.

I crawled from the exhaust system to the engine and back again before I finally found Myddie on top of Holly's spare tire. And even though she was yowling like mad, there was now way that she was going to come down. I was just trying to help and all she would do was hiss at me. Yeah, like I'm excited to be under the truck in a puddle, Myddie. Just give me a break already and come out, would ya?

After a couple rounds of her "kitty doesn't want to take a bath" routine of bracing her legs against any available surface I managed to pry her loose and hand her to my mom. At which point Myddie stopped hissing and started purring like a boat motor. Figures.

I was soaked from head to toe but by that point had stopped caring so I took a moment to admire a bright double rainbow with Holly. While pondering the significance of the rainbow I quipped, "Isn't that God's sign to say 'I promise I'll never do that to you again'?"
I sure hope so. **Please note that the stinkin' cat is bone dry in both photos. I'm wet, the cat's snuggled into a raincoat. Myddie's only a few months old and she's already figured out how to work the system.

Parading Around

2008-07-04T21:31:00.007-05:00

This year we did the 4th of July parade the way the locals do: from the back of the pickup (which we strategically parked last night for a primo view). We're Texans now, I guess.

My brother tells me (and rightly so) that I have the reflexes of a dead cat. So you can imagine all of our surprise when I caught the piece of candy thrown at me by a passing parader.

This is for real: there was a roller derby float. And here I was thinking that was just an invention of cable television.

And then the local weather guy went walking by and I got all excited. Seriously, Doppler Dave is the man.

And I just can't leave out the cute little old lady sitting in front of us. Kind of a sassy thing, don't you think?

The kids.

2008-06-23T19:22:00.010-05:00

It's been an eventful first week of life for these little pups. The runt of the litter just wasn't strong enough to survive no matter how much we tried to help her. So now the numbers are down to 7. These little guys are growing like crazy and even showing bits and pieces of their personalities. They've picked up names along the way. I'll admit that I got some help from my new 9-year old friend, Micah, to come up with names for all of them. I just wish Micah had been around to help me take these photos. Do you have any idea how tricky it is to get 3 puppies to pose for a photo at once? I'm afraid these are the best shots you'll get with a photographer of my low caliber.

Three of the females are white so far, but getting freckles on their noses and ears. That means pretty soon they won't need to be marked with nail polish in order to distinguish between them. From left to right: Hope, Pinkie, and Olivia.

There are 3 lookalikes with eye patches: Curly, Larry, and Moe.

Last but not least: Batman. He's the explorer of the group.

The Big Day

2008-06-17T19:08:00.007-05:00

Waiting became a group activity. Belle helped keep Tazz company all day long and even helped break in the whelping box. She left me to handle the phone calls from folks wanting play-by-plays. What a pal. Thanks, Belle.

Finally, Tazz's water broke just after midnight (how come nobody told me it would be green?!? kind of a gross surprise, if you ask me). And we all spent a sleepless night waiting for something to happen. At 7am the first puppy showed up and within an hour the total was up to 5. The last 3 must have been busy doing their make-up and didn't sneak into the mix until a couple hours later. The late ones were all girls...wouldn't you know it.
The final breakdown: 5 girls and 3 boys. (Mary T, you're the big winner with your guess of 8).

Once the puppies grow a little bit, get names and stop looking like gerbils, I will post some more photos.

Still waiting...

2008-06-16T17:43:00.003-05:00

No puppies yet, folks. I don't know if I've ever waited this hard in my life! Seriously, even the UPS guy asked this afternoon if Tazz had her puppies yet. sigh
Thanks for all of the guesses. Judging by the way Tazz's belly keeps stretching every day, Andrea you might just win. Win what? I don't know.

Waiting

2008-06-13T18:44:00.004-05:00

No one loves 100 degree weather more than a pregnant woman. Between the heat and the puppies that are due any minute now. all our poor little buddyTazz can do is wait.

This week I'm taking care of our friends' house and dogs and maybe, just maybe, I'll be helping Tazz deliver some puppies. It's my rookie year as a midwife, so I'm banking on nature to cover my back on this one.

The photo doesn't do Tazz's swelling justice, but trust me, she's enormous. When she lays on the floor her whole belly is alive with who knows how many puppies jostling around like a pack of WWF wrestlers. Either that or I am about to witness the next sequel in the Alien series before it hits theaters. I'd prefer the former.

Remember those games where you have to guess how many jellybeans are in the jar? Let's play our own version. Go ahead and leave your guess in the comment box.

Here are our family guesses:

Deb: 12

Emily: 11 puppies and 1 kitten

Thrillseekers and Babysitters.

2008-06-05T17:25:00.008-05:00

Sometimes the only place to hide from the relentless wind and 105 degree heat is on our back porch. Few know this better than our newest tenants. This pair of barn swallows (I like to think of them as Maxwell and 99) spends the afternoon on our ceiling fan, which turns softly with the what little wind reaches the porch.
They've grown quite comfortable with people, dogs and even the cat moving through the area. Perhaps a little bit too comfortable...so every once in a while I like to give them a little thrill by turning on the fan. They go nuts squawking and flying about. But as soon as the fan turns off, they're right back for more. Action junkies.

Tell you what, Maxwell and 99, you can hang out on our fan just as long as you keep on babysitting Hannah. Deal? Deal.

Flirting with disaster

2008-05-09T20:15:00.002-05:00

I just changed up the music on my ipod. I have it on shuffle mode to keep me cruising along on the treadmill. I think I should probably take the stuff with a Latin beat out of the mix. I really love it, but that's the problem. Whenever it comes on I feel this craving to bust out a little salsa move. I have a track record with disaster (I guess I even have a track record with falling off of gym equipment) so trying to dance on a moving surface is like, well, sticking a match inside a gas-filled oven. Trust me, that doesn't turn out well either.

I asked for it, I got it.

2008-05-06T20:51:00.002-05:00

I've never really been afraid of spiders. Never really gave them a second thought until today. If you have issues with spiders, just skip this post.
It's laundry day today. I was taking my clothes hamper out of my closet and noticed something odd. So odd, in fact that I ended up throwing everything out of my closet to see just what was going on. The floor of my closet was covered in dead spiders. A hundred dead spiders. Last week there were none. Today, there were one hundred. Sick. My question is if it's still called arachnophobia if don't scare me so much as make me want to vomit?
So, in response to my last post, I think I've found a new gross. Well, whoopee-ding.

Re-evaluating gross

2008-04-26T20:05:00.003-05:00

Lately I've been puzzled by my lack of odd and/or gross experiences. I'm used to having a "guess what happened to me" story in my pocket. And must admit that over the last few weeks I'd been wondering if my special Emily charm had worn off.

It hasn't.

We came in the house this evening after a day of staining the wood in our new barn. I was sitting in my chair, attempting to both pay attention to family conversation and decide of that slight odor was anything to be concerned about and if so, where it was coming from. I did the usual glance at my shoe bottoms. Nothing. Smelled my dog. Nothing out of the ordinary. I resigned to the fact that I might just be going crazy and headed into my office. That's when I walked into what can only be described as a thick wall of stink.

My brother's dog was hiding in the corner and that's when all the pieces of the puzzle came together. Suddenly I understood why the horse had been so intent on sniffing her earlier. It turns out she'd taken a nice long roll in a skunk carcass. Personally, I don't know what smells worse: skunk on the dog, or skunk coming off the dog in the bath water. Six of one, half a dozen of the other I suppose.

I always thought skunk would top the gross list. But now that it's all said and done I can honestly say, "I've seen worse."

Happy Birthday to Jeff!

2008-04-01T21:51:00.002-05:00

Well, there it is, folks. Jeff Gordon (my car) hit 100,000 miles on the last road trip. He's beginning to show his age. Last night, just 200 miles from home, the service engine soon light started flashing. But, hey, there's nothing like a flashing orange light and that nagging fear that the engine could drop out at any moment to keep a person alert for the last 4 hours of a 17 hour solo trip. Thanks, Jeff. You're always looking out for me.

A serpent in the garden

2008-03-24T11:37:00.002-05:00

There is a prophecy in the book of Genesis that speaks of the enmity between the serpent and the descendant of Eve. "...He shall bruise your head and you shall bruise His heel." In my understanding this prophecy was fulfilled in the death and resurrection of Jesus. Satan thought he had his victory when Christ was crucified. But that crucifixion was actually just a bruising of the Savior's heel, not the end of the story. Christ won the ultimate victory when He defeated the powers of sin and death with His resurrection from the dead. In my mind Easter is the celebration of Christ's resurrection and the fulfillment of the prophecy that the serpent's head will be crushed. Keep that in mind as you read the following story about my Easter Sunday afternoon.
I'm in Kansas at the moment and staying with a great, gracious family that is kindly hosting me and encouraging me as I try to raise some financial support in the area. They invited me to join them in their family Easter gathering at Grandpa and Grandma's house. Every year they have an Easter egg hunt in the yard for the grand kids. Apparently Grandma has been saving the large plastic eggs from pantyhose containers for decades and there were almost 100 eggs to hide. I jumped at the invitation to help hide the eggs outside. I was given the task of hiding the eggs for 4 year old Laci. It was a sweet job because you don't have to be sneaky at all to hide for someone that young. Literally, I was setting the eggs in plain sight in the grass. While placing one such egg I screamed and nearly had a heart attack when I realized a little too late that I put the egg on top of a snake! I hate snakes. Apparently so does Grandpa Lyle. He came right over and killed it by stomping on its head. All on Easter Sunday...what are the odds?

Chocolate Milk Mustache

2008-03-19T21:58:00.002-05:00

Hannah spent the morning drinking out of mud puddles. Her muddy snout doesn't look so bad because she wiped most of it on my pants when she came in.
I'm going to miss her clown antics for the next couple of weeks while I take a short trip to Kansas. While I'm in Wichita I'll get to meet up with some friends I haven't seen in a long time and hopefully meet some new folks, too. Join me in praying that God uses these 10 days in Kansas to bring in the next 15% of my total support needs so that I am at 85% of my total goal by the end of the month.
And you can pray for my family, too. They're going to need a little bit of extra patience taking care of crazy Hannah. :)

Sleep on it.

2008-03-02T20:16:00.004-06:00

If I got a buzz cut I don't think I would mind all the wind so much. Tonight I almost got blown down by a 50mph gust. That was after I got blasted with gasoline blowing off the nozzle while I was filling up. I smell like a truck stop. Last week an empty dumpster about had its way with me while I was trying to bring it up from the street.
Now for those of you who know me well you're thinking, "Emily, all those things would happen to you regardless of the wind." You're right. And that's not what I'm complaining about. What irks me is that my hair gets tied in knots and smacks me in the eyes while all of the accidenting is going on. That's why I want a buzz cut...so I can stumble in style. Maybe I'll wait a few days to make any big decisions.

Close to home

2008-02-22T08:04:00.003-06:00

I'll be the first to admit that in this day and age when we are constantly bombarded by waves of urgent news and tragedy on the news all I want to do is turn it off. I've even become so hardened by it that I find myself apathetic to world events all together. I get tired of media hype that seems to last just a little too long and then forgets last week's tears and moves on to this week's sensation. Call me cold, but I tend to stop caring about the news because I don't actually think about it affecting real people. With all of the information overload, I have reduced these people in my mind to nothing more than extras in a never-ending made for tv movie.

But this morning my heart breaks as the world news headlines strike close to home and I realize my foolishness. There was a plane crash in Venezuela. Not just any plane. It's a flight that I've flown a dozen times before: from Merida (which is the last place I really called "home") and heading to the capital city of Caracas. In fact, one of my dear friends missed being on that flight by just 24 hours: same route, same time.
We always picked the same airline and condsidered the questionable nature of the aircraft part of living an adventure. I still have my frequent flyer "card," which is really just a piece of paper, tucked in my wallet as a humorous reminder of the backwards ways things often work in my beloved Venezuela.

Today that worn piece of paper becomes a reminder of the fragility of life. In the face of instant and continuous news sensations that little paper card now sits as a reminder of the deep reality of our fallen world. Friends, we are deeply fallen yet deeply loved by the God of the universe who sent His Son, Jesus, to die for us while we were yet sinners. (Romans 5:8). For the moment I find myself torn between emotions of grief and joy. We live in a place that is overwhelmed with tragedy and brokenness, but yet there is hope in Christ.

Redefining genius

2008-02-14T11:24:00.002-06:00

Last night I happened to catch this little gem from the less than witty banter between the local meteorologist and the 10 o'clock news anchors.
"Today's wind speeds topped-out at 45 mph. Just imagine getting in your car and driving 45 miles per hour. That will give you a good idea of how fast the wind was blowing today."
Sheer genius.

Mission accomplished.

2008-01-26T13:31:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I was talking with my new friend Melina, who is from Mexico City. We were just shooting the breeze in Spanish when she stopped and said, "You know, you really do speak Spanish with a Venezuelan accent. It's funny. You don't even sound like an American."
That's about the best compliment a foreign language geek can receive, I think.

The week my PhD genius brother came home to play with me

2008-01-20T15:42:00.000-06:00

For a kid who has 5 brothers and sisters, I spend an amazing amount of time feeling like an only child. My younger brother came home for Christmas this year. It was nice to have some sibling company we quickly returned to our normal habits :
Watching the Discovery Channel...

Watching the Discovery Channel and pretending like mom hasn't already taken 20 pictures of us...

Going on a hike and putting all those years of watching The Kids in the Hall to good use...

And then there was the photo shoot... Supposedly we're the same height, but each of us claims to be taller than the other. I'm taller. That's the truth. We took turns standing in a hole just in case.

Weekend Warriors

2007-11-04T17:09:00.000-06:00

The fence is in, the barn is almost finished, and the new place is starting to look and feel more like home each day.

Life looked like a Chevy commercial the past couple of days with all of the work vehicles around this weekend. My parents and some local helpers spent the whole weekend putting up a whole lot of split rail fence. A job well done, I'd say, especially considering the way they dodged the gasline. I can't claim much credit for any of the finished product. My job: Junior Credit Card Swiper. I did a couple of odd jobs here and there buying construction materials and food, but all the credit goes to the Weekend Warriors. Here's a look at the weekend in pictures:

One crazy thing that makes me smile

2007-10-20T15:33:00.000-05:00

Meet Hannah. She's my sassy Australian Shepherd puppy who absolutely loves to keep me on my toes. There's no snooze button on this 4-legged alarm clock. She'll do whatever it takes to wake me up, even if that means hitting me in the head with her water bowl.

She's beautiful and has all the dignity and delicacy of a WWF wrestler. And I have to admit that's exactly what I love about her. Lately she's had to spend a lot of time inside and seems to keep herself busy by herding the flies that make their way in from the yard. She'll chase them all around the house with great enthusiasm. From time to time I'll hear a clatter and thud coming from the kitchen where Hannah has jumped into the air and body slammed the cabinets in pursuit of a stray fly. 'A' for effort.

I've been grateful for her companionship and crazy antics throughout this transition of leaving behind some dearly loved friends and life in Venezuela to walk into this next glorious chapter of life.

Emily + Jeff = Love

2007-10-09T10:24:00.000-05:00

Jehova jireh, my God provides. Saturday our family got a third vehicle and we are all now able to independently transport ourselves. I'll be driving my old car, lovingly nicknamed Jeff Gordon...nothing fancy, but Jeff absolutely fits my needs and then some.
Thanks for praying!

Praying for a car

2007-10-02T10:03:00.000-05:00

One thing that's been interesting about living at my parent's new house is the fact that the three of us share 2 cars, live 20 miles out of town, and have really different schedules. We're juggling things around well enough, but it would be a huge blessing if the Lord would provide a vehicle for me in some way. I've had to laugh sometimes about my mom dropping me off for work, waiting for my stepdad to come pick me up, or my personal favorite: my mom leaving messages for me with the coffee shop guy who makes me my Earl Grey tea while I work and wait for my parents to show up. Oh, no, that's not embarassing at all.

Start this thing up again

2007-09-18T06:16:00.000-05:00

I'm writing this assuming that people still check it from time to time...even though it's been ages since I've posted.
I just moved to a brand new country: Texas. They tell me it's still in the Union, but this, my friends, is a whole new ballgame. The language here is different and sometimes I wish I had my own Texas to Yankee pocket translator. Like when the store checkout girl asks me, "How are y'all?" I just don't know what to make of it. There's only one of me. Do I know her? Is she asking about my family? Is she seeing me with double vision?? I'll chalk it up to poor subject-verb-reality agreement. My question is answered as I hear her greet the family behind me, "How are all a y'all?" Got it. I might just become fluent.

I actually just returned from New Staff Training with Campus Crusade in Orlando. I'm currently in the process of finding a team of ministry partners to help send me to my next assignment in Salt Lake City, Utah. And while I don't know much about what ministry looks like there (yet) I know that I am really excited to go.
While I was still in Orlando, I got a phone call from the student leadership meeting in Salt Lake and was able to say hi and answer some questions via speakerphone. I've got to admit that it was one of the most encouraging and welcoming things that's ever happened to me. Like I said, I am super-excited to head to Utah.

Home!

2007-04-09T19:33:00.000-05:00

The return to Merida has been a great success so far, praise the Lord! It has been so great to be back with my team and with the students here. There has been lots of hugging and catching up. Without a doubt I feel loved by everyone I work with here.

I had a little over a week after coming back to readjust and get ready for our National Conference. It was a lot of work for our staff team of 35 to put on the conference, but to see God at work in the hearts of the 200 students that attended made all of the exhaustion worth it. More than that, it was an honor to be a part of creating an atmosphere where students were able to get away from their daily routine and be refreshed and challenged in their walks with the Lord.

I thoroughly enjoyed goofing off with my friends from the staff teams in other cities in Venezuela, getting to know students from all over the country, praying over students in Spanish, and, yes, playing on the teeter-totters with my teammates. My health held up surprisingly well with all of the activity and stress, so that is a great praise. We are home again in Merida recuperating from the conference and getting ready to take a well-earned rest on the Venezuelan coast.

Trust me, I'm in this picture. See that bright blue spot in the upper right-hand corner?

It's official!

2007-03-19T08:15:00.000-05:00

Or at least the one way ticket is non-refundable....
I'll be leaving for Venezuela on Tuesday evening and getting to Merida on Wednesday morning. It will be a big day for me physically: 18 hours of travel. Bring it on. I am ready for the next challenge and I am ready to see some familiar and dearly loved faces at the Merida airport. That's enough to get me through any airport weariness or patience-wearing situation. And hopefully I won't get into too much trouble without Bryon always asking me where my passport is...sheesh! The man is relentless. Although it's not entirely unwarranted...one little incident and now I have a reputation.
I have two days left here in Kansas. My mom took some time off from work, so we'll get to have some good, quality time together before I leave. I am excited about that time and blessed to have it, too.

Let's hear it for the Fast Shoes

2007-03-07T16:09:00.000-06:00

Sometimes it really feels like this recovery process is slower than slow. I had hoped to be back in Venezuela by now, but I'm not. And I'll be honest and say that the slowness of all this jazz has frequently been discouraging. BUT then there are days like today when I am able to celebrate small victories. I walked over a mile and a half this afternoon AND even took a handful of running steps! My leg muscle is down to almost nothing these days, so I'm sure I will feel the consequences of my actions tomorrow, but I'll gladly take them. Lately I've been feeling like a prisoner in my own body and today's micro-adventure gave me a sweet, sweet feeling of freedom that I really needed.
Still no word on when the doctor will let me go back. I'm praying for soon, but trusting that the doctor will help us make the wisest decision.

Milestones and setbacks

2007-03-02T17:37:00.000-06:00

When my sisters were little they had a pair of shoes for everything. There were shiny shoes they'd pull out of the closet just for dancing, school shoes, rubber-soled shoes for running, the next pair of hand-me-downs shoes they were waiting to grow into.... My youngest sister, Tracy, even had a special pair she called her "jumping shoes."
I 've never really vocalized it, but I've always thought of my latest pair of running shoes (which haven't seen much action lately) as my fast shoes. Look at these bad boys with their metallic blue trim and tell me I don't run like the wind when I wear them. Okay, I'll admit it, I don't do much of anything like the wind....maybe more like a lazy summer breeze?
Today I took the fast shoes out for some adventure: instead of twice around the block, we ended up going over a mile! It felt great and I just kept smiling and smiling. Praise the Lord for continued improvement!
While I am celebrating today's achievement, I'm also acknowledging that it's been a bit of a rough week with some disappointments and setbacks. Most notably, my doctor asked me to delay my return ticket to Venezuela by at least 2 more weeks. He'd like to see me be stronger before I jump back into things. (He'd let me if a had a pair of jumping shoes like Tracy, but since I don't...nuts!) It's the wise decision, but it hit me hard. My heart is homesick for my team and students in Venezuela and at first the 2 week delay felt enormous. I'm still not excited about it, but there's really nothing I can do at this point other than make the best of things and continue to rest in the Lord's care.

Feats of athleticism

2007-02-21T13:57:00.001-06:00

Well, folks, I am pleased to announce that I am feeling better and better each day. Today will be the third day in a row for me to walk around the block. Once. Per day. Unattended. My muscles seem to think that this training program is a bit intense...at least that's what they scream to me when I wake up in the morning. They scream at me, I laugh at them, and we keep moving forward. It's a rather humbling experience. I never thought I would be rejoicing over something so small, but here I am. So, praise the Lord for continued improvement!

Some answers!

2007-02-16T21:51:00.000-06:00

I'm slowly adjusting to the winter temperatures here at home. I'll admit to becoming more of a pansy after the so much time in Venezuela. Thankfully my brother's dog, Athene, has adopted me and I've been grateful for her warmth and company...not to mention the fact that she made for a very low-maintenance Valentine's Day date. (Take-out Chinese, in case you're wondering...and she didn't even eat off my plate. I know, my standards are high).

AND it is my great joy to inform you that we have an answer regarding my health! Doctors here think that a previous illness threw some of my body chemistry out of whack and that is the cause of the fatigue that I've been experiencing. The best news? It's an easy fix. A little medication and some simple changes to my daily routine and I should be right on track. We don't know exactly how long it will take for a full recovery, but we are hopeful and still praying for March 4th. Overall, I am encouraged...ready to take on the world (or at least the walk to my mailbox) and excited to rejoin the crew back in Merida. I sure do love my team!

Recently I've been blessed by people from all over the world (some of whom I do not even know!) who are praying for my health and my team. It's been both encouraging and humbling as I continue learning just how much I need other people. Thank you.

Taking the next step

2007-02-14T08:21:00.000-06:00

Doctors in Maracaibo were unable to give us any answers, so we made a tough decision to return to the US to continue pursuing a diagnosis and treatment for the weakness I've been experiencing in the past month. I arrived at my parents' house in Kansas on Monday after 20 hours of travel - a grueling day for me since I get tired from even the smallest of 'adventures' outside of the apartment. I was able to take all of Tuesday to rest and am feeling ready to see a doctor here in Wichita this afternoon.
I am blessed that my mom works at one of the hospitals here in town and has been able to take care of a lot of details with appointments and insurance for me. Calling her resourceful is an understatement and I think she will be my greatest asset for getting on the road to recovery and back to Merida as soon as possible.
It is surreal to be back home so suddenly and there are moments where I hardly know what to make of it. I'm at home, yet feeling so far away from home! I traded palm trees and ceaseless car alarms for a quiet, bleak winter landscape. Teammates and friends are now thousands of miles away and this morning I find myself wondering if I've just woken up from a very long dream. Phone calls and emails assure me that I haven't, but it's a bit mind-boggling nonetheless.
Right now I am scheduled to return to Venezuela on March 4th. We'd like to ask you to join us in praying for answers to this little medical mystery as well as a full recovery before March 4th. Thanks so much to all of you who have been joining us in prayer and for the encouraging emails you've sent!

From Maracaibo, with love

2007-02-07T09:47:00.000-06:00

It's been a long time since I've posted anything. A few days after my last post I got pretty sick. And for the past several weeks I've struggled with some health issues that have really lowered my energy and ability to get around. Recovery has been very slow and we are still trying to figure out what is actually going on. It's been a long process, and frustrating at times. Right now I am visiting another Crusade staff team in Maracaibo while trying to get some answers and better medical care.
I've been blessed to spend time with friends that I am staying with here. At times I have been overwhelmed by their hospitality, and while I might be passing through a difficult season in life, I don't see much to complain about. Praise the Lord for that.
It's already been 5 days here in Maracaibo, and while I think we are closer to answers about my health, we are still without a concrete answer and still without treatment. I'm praying the answer comes soon and that I will be able to rejoin my much loved team in Merida within a couple of days. Thanks to so many of you who have sent encouraging emails my way! They really boost my spirits and are WAY more fun than the vitamin-B IV they use here to give me a boost.
And if you have a minute, would you praise God for my incredibly outstanding teammates in Merida (Bryon, Amber, Claudia, and Sam) who have encouraged me, supported me, and helped maintain my sanity (what's left of it) throughout all of this?

Reason #913 why I love Venezuela..

2007-01-10T17:00:00.000-06:00

Big Carrots.
I have no knife big enough to cut it, but maybe one of my neighbors has a machete?

Pray with us

2007-01-07T09:05:00.000-06:00

It's been a full holiday season with lots of traveling, visitors, more traveling, and even a bit of relaxation. But now we've come to that place where we need to shift gears and get ready to step into the next phase of this great adventure that we're on.
Over the next few days our team will be focusing on seeking the Lord and asking Him to lead us regarding the direction of ministry in the coming months.
-Please pray for each of us individually as we meet with the Lord: Emily, Bryon, Amber, Claudia, and Sam.
-Pray that we will each be reawakened to our desperate need for His leading, His wisdom, and His strength.
-Pray that we will start the year refreshed in our walks with the Lord.
-Please pray also for our protection as we begin pressing more deeply into our relationships with Jesus--we certainly have an enemy who would like nothing more than to thwart our attempts call on the Lord. (Many of us have recently been laid low with extreme fatigue, physical weakness, or headaches).
Lately I've been growing in my awareness of the futility of actions I take and decisions I make in my own strength and wisdom. I am realizing to a new extent the enormity of my need for Jesus and it drives me to my knees in desperation and dependence. Please pray that I stay in this place as Bryon and I lead our team into the next chapter of the story that God is writing here in Merida.

The waiting room: yet another upside to social medicine.

2006-12-21T20:46:00.000-06:00

Amber and I spent 3 hours in the waiting room at the local clinic this afternoon. We were the first ones in line to see the ONE doctor that was attending to the entire emergency room. We were being really good waiters up until hour 2, when our fellow waiters started getting a bit disgruntled with all the waiting and fed up with the one doctor attending to bleeding people who were rushed in ahead of the rest of us who had properly put in our time in the waiting room.
(I think that's when it dawned on me that perhaps the locked gate and armed guard separating the waiting room from the hospital is there to protect the one doctor from being bombarded by sick and angry not-yet-patients who are desperate to get out of the waiting room).
One elderly lady appointed herself as spokesperson for the rest of us in the waiting room whether we wanted her assistance or not. You know her. We've all been trapped in a waiting room with her at one time or another. "That elderly waiting room lady," is a character that knows no cultural bounds. We'll call today's lady Carmen since she's Venezuelan.
Carmen talks and talks and talks...informs the armed guard that she must get back to see the doctor because she has hypertension and that bleeding car accident victim can just wait his turn like everybody else. The armed-guard must meet at least one Carmen each day, because just ignores her complaints and doesn't even look up from playing games on his cell phone.
But Carmen is a rule-follower and knowing full-well that we were in line ahead of her, she knew she had to get us in to see the doctor as fast as possible if she wanted to get herself to that promised land behind the locked iron gate.
My favorite moment was when she took the liberty of informing the entire waiting room that I needed to see the doctor right away because I was quite obviously in great pain since my face was so pale. I just smiled and translated the comment to Amber...who was the one who wasn't feeling well and had brought me along as the translator.
I really wanted to inform Carmen that my pallor was more likely due to my ethnicity than illness, but I decided against it in favor of keeping our hard earned place in line.

At the window

2006-12-15T11:15:00.000-06:00

This morning I've been watching the snow fall outside my window here in Bozeman.
It's been almost 2 years since I've seen this sort of weather and I can't help but think that God had blessing me in mind when He made today's weather.
Yes, I have very much enjoyed seeing friends in my time here, but one of the biggest things that I've been silently enjoying is the weather. I know it sounds silly but I am absolutely loving walking around in my friend's puffy winter coat, all zipped-in and warm except for feeling the cold air on my face. Call me simple, but I love it.

Bloggin' for Jamie

2006-12-11T12:59:00.000-06:00

This one goes out to you, Jamie B.
I'm actually writing this post from Bozeman, Montana. I'll be here for a week to be a part of some wedding celebrating. It's a bit strange to be away from life in Venezuela, but it's such a blessing and joy to be here with so many dear friends.
The day before we left Venezuela I was able to have a really fun conversation with a girl who's very involved in the ministry, Elvia. I challenged her to consider being a part of a delegation of students from Venezuela that we are hoping to send to a worldwide conference in Korea. (Check it out at http://www.cm20007.net ). We are challenging about 15 students from Merida who are committed to the ministry and the mission of seeing university students reached for Christ.
Anyway, it's a short story without an end, but it's something that I get really excited about. I love challenging students to take steps of faith, and for the students that accept this challenge it will certainly be a faith-building experience as they attempt to raise $3,000 each to cover travel costs. It's a lot to raise for a US student, and for our students in Venezuela it's exceptionally daunting...that's over one year's rent on my apartment, if you want to put it into perspective.
That, however, is what I LOVE about this challenge. Truly, these students will be trusting God for something impossible and I can't wait for them to see Him show up.

Getting it.

2006-12-07T05:33:00.000-06:00

Sometimes we come across those people who are just ready to hear the Gospel. Pedro was one of those people. I met him at our weekly meeting on the humanities campus on Wednesday. He had come all the way across town from the pharmacy campus just for our Vida Estudiantil meeting.
Amber and I lead a discussion group for new people during the second half of our meeting. This past week Pedro was the only new student. He shared with us that he had come to the Humanities campus several times with the intention of coming to our meeting, several times had stood in the doorway and never entered thinking, "What am I doing here?"
Amber and I looked at each other and exchanged a look that said, "We know exactly why you're here," and we began to share the Gospel with him.
Now, we share our faith all the time. And we even see lots of people receive Christ, but I'd say Pedro (like Natacha) is one of the most striking instances of someone being ready. As we shared with Pedro it was absolutely incredible to watch his face. When we explained how man is separated from God by sin and there is nothing we can do in our own effort bridge the gap, it hit him like a ton of bricks. His face fell and he truly felt the desperation of our situation without Christ. And the joy that came to his face when we explained that there is hope for reconcilliation with God! We showed him a diagram that shows Jesus as the only bridge that can cover the distance between a Holy God and sinful man. I'm sure that if Pedro could have jumped into the diagram and run across the bridge he would have at that very moment! It was a beautiful thing to watch the Lord at work in Pedro's heart that day. Please pray that Pedro continues to respond to God's pursuit of his heart, that he will get connected with students in our movement and begin growing in his faith.

The day we met Natacha

2006-10-11T06:06:00.000-05:00

Let me tell you why I love my job.
Yesterday morning Amber and I were meeting students on the Humanities campus and felt drawn to a group of three girls. They were all on their way to class, so we didn't have time to do much more than invite them to our weekly Vida Estudiantil meeting. Not knowing anything beyond the fact that we were Christians and that we were talking to her, one girl, Natacha, grabbed my arm as she was leaving and said, "I have to go to class now, but I am really interested in these things. Do you think you can tell me about God another time? I've been meeting with Jehovah's Witnesses, but there's something about them that I don't like."
Seriously, I thought my eyeballs were going to pop right out of my head!
Amber and I got an opportunity to meet with her later that afternoon. And as we shared the Gospel with her we watched this quiet smile spread across her face as she began to understand. As I was explaining the 3rd of the 4 spiritual laws she stopped me and said, "But this is what I want to know: How can I receive Jesus?"
At the end of our conversation and after Natacha prayed to receive Christ she told us something else, "My life has been really difficult for the past several months. And last night I cried out to God and said, 'I can't do this on my own anymore. If You are there I need You to come into my life.' Somehow I don't think that meeting you two this morning was a coincidence."
We don't think so either, Natacha.

How do I even try to put this into words?

2006-10-07T19:26:00.000-05:00

When something big happens around here, the students have a great word that they use to sum it all up. Wow.
That's right. It's the same word we use, which is nice since it makes a person feel that much more fluent.
Our team has been on-campus for 2 weeks now and, honestly, it's difficult to comprehend the magnitude of all we've seen God do in that short amount of time. We've been out meeting students, getting into spiritual conversations and sharing about Jesus. And as a result of those conversations we've seen at least 30 students (and a couple of professors) receive Christ. Wow. Some of the experiences I've had have been absolutely unreal and have served as powerful reminders that it's not about me, or my team, or our ability to communicate the Gospel: it's about the hand of God at work in the lives of students and Him allowing us to be His ambassadors at this particular time and in this particular place. Here is one such experience: Sam and I were sharing on the Sciences campus and as we walked past a freshman math student, Patricia, she reached out and touched Sam's arm saying, "My friends told me about a conversation they had with you yesterday. I want to talk to you. I want to know more about God." Seriously. Does this sort of thing really happen?!? I'm trying to imagine what my friends serving in Croatia would do if this same thing happened to them...
Please pray for Patricia, Aries, and Paola --3 first year math students who all trusted Christ last week. Pray that they would continue to meet with us to do follow-up Bible studies and grow in their new relationship with God.
Daily I am reminded of the great honor I have in sharing the Gospel with students here in Merida. "We are therefore Christ's ambassadors, as though God were making His appeal through us. We implore you on Christ's behalf: Be reconciled to God." (2 Corinthians 5:20).
Wow. (There's that word again). I love my job!

On a lighter note...

2006-09-23T12:05:00.000-05:00

We've all heard it a hundred times: If you're going to a different country, don't drink the water.
And when friends come to visit us here in Merida some of the first phrases they learn are, "I'd like bottled water, please." And, "No ice." These are wise decisions, especially for those just passing through...
But I'll tell you what, there's something in me that cannot stand to spend money on bottled water, and after living here all last year and with the past 3 weeks to readjust, I've decided that my system is sufficiently innoculated with whatever 'little friends' are supposed to make me sick. That's it! I'm putting my foot down and refusing to be a pansy about the issue. I am drinking strictly tap water from here on out. Go ahead, get a good mental picture of me holding up my glass of water. (Remember that old Cheers episode with Fraiser running around the bar yelling, "I'm running with scissors!") That should give you a pretty good idea of what I did last night....."I'm drinking tap water!"......please don't picture me running with scissors...I believe in taking risks and all, but puhlease, running with scissors? Now that's dangerous.

The Apartment Situation

2006-09-22T20:28:00.000-05:00

(Thanks, Taylor, for the reminder). Yesterday we gave our lawyer, Rosanna, the green light to renew the contracts on the 2 apartments that we had last year. We prayed about it a lot and really feel at peace with the decision to stick it out in this complex for the next year. The landlord of the apartment that Bryon and Sam live in has agreed to some badly needed repairs, which should make their place a better home. Another factor in the decision was the difficulty in finding apartments for rent in this town (let alone in the complex you want to live in, and it's a toss-up as to the condition of any apartment we might happen to find). Also, with classes and full-time ministry on-campus starting on Monday, we were very reluctant to commit to a time-consuming apartment search and move. We're praising the Lord for His provision and excited to be able to pour all of our efforts into working with students and leading the ministry.

A complete team.

2006-09-17T20:20:00.000-05:00

Finally, our team feels complete. Claudia and Angye have been here in Merida for a week already. It's amazing the amount of life that these two women bring to the team and to our apartment. So, for me, that makes a grand total of 3 roommates with contagious enthusiasm and laughter. Sometimes I wonder what our neighbors think with all of the laughing that spills out of our doorway and into the hallway. I am so blessed by my roommates! We seemed to connect from the very first moment they stepped off the bus here in Merida (and at 5am that's no small feat!) and things have only gotten better from there.

The roommates: Emily, Angye, Amber, Claudia

Both Angye and Claudia are in the process of raising their financial support. As a team we are trusting the Lord to bring them both to full financial support by October 14th. For Angye that's about $400 in monthly support left to raise, while Claudia needs closer to $700 per month. They'll be raising support both through Venezuelan contacts and friends in the US and spending the majority of their workdays focusing on financial support. Once they are at full support, then they will be joining the rest of the team in daily ministry activities on-campus. Please pray with us for Claudia and Angye's full financial support by October 14th.

This week Bryon and I will begin focusing our planning times on the details of ministry. We'll be making decisions about each team member's responsibilities both on-campus and within the team. We will also continue mapping out the calendar for the year and thinking through how we will work with our student leaders. Our first day of ministry on-campus will be the first day of classes, September 25th. Please pray for continued for continued wisdom on our part, as we make decisions and takes steps of faith with our plans. Pray also that we will make decisions and lead our team in such a way that they are equipped and enthusiastic to dive headfirst into all that God has for the ULA students this year.

Things to pray for

2006-09-06T13:43:00.000-05:00

As I mentioned in my previous post, this first week has been busy for us. We've been trying to figure out our living situation for this next year. Currently, we have two apartments, but are trying to decide if this is the best place for us to be, or if we should further pursue an apartment search in a different complex.

Please pray for wisdom for Bryon and I as we make our housing decisions. Thankfully we have a lawyer-friend from church, Rosanna, who is also helping us tremendously as we look at our options. Please pray that Rosanna will continue to give us wise counsel throughout this process.
Sam and Amber are in language school this week. For Sam, it's a continuation of the Spanish studies he's already done in the state. For Amber, it's the first time she's had formal language education. Please pray for their learning. Amber is such a communicator and I can tell it's frustrating for her to be so limited by language.
While those two are in class, Bryon and I spend our days planning and making decisions. Please pray for us as we ask God to show us His plans for our team and our students this year.
On Sunday our Venezuelan teammates, Angye and Claudia, will arrive! Please pray for them as they continue to raise their financial support. For both of them, this will be their first time away from home and families. Please pray that we will welcome them well and be sensitive to their needs. We are so excited for them to arrive!

Getting here.

2006-09-06T12:42:00.000-05:00

It's hard to believe but we've been in Merida for nearly a week now. The days have been full of meetings, decision-making, Spanish classes, introducing Sam and Amber to the city, moving into apartments, and ADVENTURE.
The adventures began before we even left our first airport (Spokane) when we found out that our (carefully planned) travel plans to get here had been turned upside down by tropical storms hovering over Miami. Forced to re-route through Dallas, and extend our travel time by an entire day, we got some great experience in being flexible as a team and some extra bonding time. If an 8 hour layover that begins at 3am doesn't bring out your true colors, few things will.

Dallas Airport (hours 5-13 of our travels). Bryon, Sam, Amber, Me.

Although we were tired and anxious to get to Merida our delays served as great team-building times. The Lord gave us many opportunities to pull together throughout our 48 hours of airports and hotels. Bryon and I took a run across the Seattle airport (hour 3 of the trip) in an attempt to get my purse, which I left on the first plane, before it flew off to its next destination. We found it waiting with the agents at the gate. And while we were running back and forth across the airport, Sam was having a monumental phone conversation with his dad. So after only 3 hours, we had already had plenty of opportunities to rejoice with each other!
Although it took a long time to reach Merida, we arrived in good spirits (still able to stand each other...and even enjoying each other!). We were greeted by a handful of students and community friends at the airport, which made us feel very welcomed and loved, and excited to spend the next year here.

On our way!

2006-08-28T23:31:00.000-05:00

It's almost here: departure day. The whole team is here and financial support for the four of us north americans is in (we still have 2 Venezuelan women who are working hard to finish raising theirs) and for that we are giving great thanks to the Lord! It's been so fun to see the way He's provided financially over the past few weeks. The Lord raised up a handful of champions (you know who you are) to fight on my behalf and help me reach a seemingly impossible goal of full financial support. Thank you.
Please pray for our team as we prepare to leave the country for the next 9-11 months. Pray that we will say goodbye to friends/family/culture well and be ready to step into life in Venezuela wholeheartedly. Pray for safety in our travels on Tuesday and Wednesday. Pray for wisdom for Bryon and I as we lead our team into this coming year and start making plans for the ministry. Pray that our team (Emily, Bryon, Sam, and Amber) continues to grow in love and appreciation for one another and that we would love Jesus well together.
(I'll post a picture as soon as I get ahold of one).

The road that lies ahead

2006-08-13T09:00:00.000-05:00

I wish you could see the smile on this girl's face. Today we head to the mountains! I'll spend some time with my parents before saying goodbye (for an entire year) on Monday, when our Stint briefing begins in Copper Mountain, Colorado. We'll be coming together for training and commissioning with everyone who is spending the next year overseas with Crusade. It will be the first time that Bryon and I meet our American teammates, Amber and Sam. I can't wait!
Please pray for us in this week (August 14-20). Pray that as we as a team we come together: united in heart and vision for what God has called us to this year in Venezuela. Pray that we will be learners during this week of training. Pray that this week will set the tone for the rest of our year-that as a team we love the Lord well and love each other well. Also, there are some of us on the team that continue to have significant financial need. We continue to step out in faith, trusting that the Lord will provide the means for us to do the work that He has called us into.

Who said learning is easy?

2006-08-05T17:52:00.000-05:00

This summer I've been praying that I would be desperate in my dependence on God in this coming year, and that I would also trust Him for impossible things.
He's taken me up on that request (a bit earlier than I expected) and I'll admit that it's been much more difficult than I imagined to really allow myself to enter fully into that desperation. I've always been the kind of person who's been able to be the glue that holds other people together, relying on my own strength to stay calm and steady. Throughout the course of this summer, I've watched situation pile upon situation; driving me beyond the limits of my own emotional and mental strength and to a more complete reliance on God. It's almost impressive how thickheaded I've been throughout the whole process. Just yesterday as I was sitting in the ER at my mom's bedside, amidst the tangle of IV's and ceaseless cacophony of beeping monitors and sounds of hurting people (she's fine now, don't worry) I found myself telling God that I would be fine dealing with raising the rest of my financial support if it weren't for all of these extraneous circumstances (and there are many of them!). "Bingo. Do you get it yet?" is what I heard in response from the Lord. "Are you ready to admit that you can't do it all on your own?"
It's amazing how hard it can be to say that yes, I am ready. I am ready to relinquish control. I am ready to be desperate.

Who put that rocket booster on my calendar?

2006-07-31T20:29:00.000-05:00

It's amazing, really, how fast my time in the states has flown (and continues to fly) by at warp speed. There are 2 weeks left for me here at my parent's house in Kansas. In just under a month we will step off a plane onto that familiar Merida tarmac where we will, hopefully, find ourselves welcomed by a handful of familiar, dearly loved, and deeply missed faces of ULA students!
Until that time, it appears that the Lord has much to teach me in the areas of trusting Him for all of my needs, stepping out in obedience to Him and in the power of the Holy Spirit, and how to listen for His voice as I press into Him for wisdom and insight in leading our team.
Too, I am learning daily just how grateful I am to share this responsibility of leadership with my co-leader, Bryon. I'm grateful to see how well we work together and pray that will carry into how we are able to care for our team and lead them in Loving Jesus and trusting Him for the impossible in this ministry He's given to us. And I'm grateful to know that ultimately, Jesus is the One who is leading our team and leading His ministry at the University of the Andes.
There is so much for me yet to learn and I know that when it comes time for us to leave Venezuela a year from now, I will be able to look back and see an entirely different person; one who has been transformed by His refining fire of challenges, successes, and dependence on Him.

2006-07-25T17:22:00.000-05:00

Well, here it is