full, filled, filling.

Where to begin with the past few weeks?  I have learned close to a million new spanish words.  I have held a sick three year old with hair so thin she looked like she was balding.  I have consumed the world's best coffee on a hammock in the morning.  I have slammed a truck door on my leg so hard it left a wound that looks like I was attacked by a stray dog (and that's the story I'm going with, actually). I have travelled through the colorful streets of Managua at night and seen poverty sleeping alongside the highway in small tin houses, on cardboard sheets.  I have eaten plate after plate of rice.  I have processed through sin and brokenness with Americans who could not believe some of these things exist.    I have played Marco-Polo with some of the best kids on the planet.

Sometimes I sit down to write all these things to you and I find myself at a loss to capture even one sliver of it.

Because there is just so much here.  There are so many stories I could share. They could be titled That Time I Met Bryan in Tipitapa, That Time I Prayed and God Answered, That Time Our Bus Got Stuck In A River Of Mud, That Time We Made Poop Jokes Before Eating Pupuseria, and on and on and on.  I have been here for several weeks and have several to go, and I feel so full already with learning and laughter and growth.  But most of all, I feel right stuck in the middle of God's plan for this world, for my life, and for the people I meet.  And that, sweet friends, is a pretty darn good place to be.

I feel myself full in the mornings, and being filled during the days, and I find myself knowing that God will continue to find space inside me to do the extra filling He needs to do -- this abundance comes through in different ways, in strange ways where I can feel Him filling me up as I ache and feel void of hope, when I am homesick or when I wonder about my usefulness.  In fact, I find in those moments where I am aware of all that I am (and that the world is) lacking -- those are the times when He chooses to pour into me exactly what I need.

And so here I may not have time to blog much and share the little details of my journey with you, but know that as you pray for me (which I know so many of you do, and for that I am eternally grateful) and for the people I get to know in this place, there is joy and grace abundantly given in response.  I can feel it settling down in my bones because of you.  What I am experiencing here, in one of the poorest places in the world, is nothing short of abundance.

Good time

I am home for a week before I head back to Nica for the rest of the summer.  And because when I'm over there my ears are full of Spanish reggatone songs I can't even begin to understand (but do genuinely love) I get a little homesick for some quality (and by quality I mean trashy) Amurrican pop music.  This one is so good that when Doogie picked me up from the airport last night I made us listen to it three times in a row.  Crank your volume and solo-DP it up! :)

la luz

Yesterday we drove in the early night down the gravel road that leads into the heart of Casa Bernabe, an orphanage where many of my favorite children in the world find a home here in Nicaragua.  There are fields that follow you along this drive, square plots of land where unknown vegetation is planted and grows up beneath the hot sun. During the day, you may be able to guess at what is growing there - plantains, young trees that will bear some sort of fruit.  But in the night, when a darkness falls, unhindered by street light, it looks more like a sea of tall grasses, vast and very quiet.  

Last night this field I pass with frequency looked as if it were sparkling with fire - hundreds of lightening bugs were hovering right at the grass line, blinking on and off like flashes of glitter in the sun.  It was a gorgeous sight: in a still blackness we could follow these lines of light all gathered in a similar space and all their own, and we could sit and watch, amazed at their volume.  

When we come here to love, we do it in small ways - we braid hair after English class, kick a soccer ball, hold a hand, make our shoulders sore and tried from piggy-back rides.  They are small things, and alone they can feel small, and the glow of them might to our eyes seem dull and incomplete.  We can grow sad that they are small, until we remember that they are love, 

and when we know that, we know that each of these things are glimpses of something bigger, 

we can know that each hand we are holding is a blinking light in a dark field, floating in a sea of glitter, illuminating a kingdom where the blackness is forgotten and you can stop and stare at the beauty, only able to think of the light.  

one reason I can't wait to have children:

so that I can teach them to dance like no one is...filming it to post on the youtubes for the whole world to see.

joy and chaos

hi, strangers.  I haven't blogged in awhile, have I?  each time I sit down and look at the computer screen to post something my mind just feels a little overwhelmed and like I have too many thoughts and not enough ways to say them.

life is strange right now.
Last weekend I got to celebrate my twin brother during his graduation from college. and although I technically graduated in december, my ceremony is this coming sunday, making the whole thing really feel official.  A few days after that, I will move from the house I live in with some of my favorite friends in the world and from the city I treasure in more ways than I can list.  I will walk away from the place where for the past four years I have been transformed and sanctified, educated and loved, challenged and stretched in really awesome, beautiful ways.  I will leave and head off into the next season, which currently is one big freaking question mark.  and that is my life.

I have no wisdom really, or even many complete thoughts on how to get through this weird transition that I and so many people my age are currently experiencing.  but, in typical fashion, as I was reading my bible this morning, I was hit by something that is true and that I have needed constant reminding of recently -

and that is joy.  joy in the middle of complete mysterious chaos.

In Ecclesiastes chapter 8 it says, "And I commend joy, for man has nothing better under the sun but to eat and drink and be joyful, for this will go with him in his toil through the days of his life that God has given him under the sun." 


I don't have a lot to say about that, other than that is pretty serious, isn't it?  To say I COMMAND joy, not suggest it or request it.  To say that we have nothing better on this earth other than joy - that is a big deal. The bible doesn't take it lightly.    


and so that is the challenge: joy. joy in excess, joy in the face of mystery, joy in the face of endings.  because there is nothing better for me under the sun.


and so I will pursue it with all I've got.  

from death to life

Tomorrow I will stand up in front of a crowd of high school students and tell them that they are loved so much that Jesus rose from the dead for them.

This is the fourth time I've gotten to share the incredible story of the resurrection at the Young Life club I'm a leader at, and each time I have found that the event becomes more and more magical to me.  And it has also felt increasingly real.  In light of everything we know to be true about the world, Jesus rising from the dead makes very little sense.  And at the same time, it allows everything else about the promises of God and of his great love for us to make the most sense in the world.

I haven't posted a poem in awhile, but today I was in a writing mood and I wrote this one thinking about my great joy for the resurrection and for the magic and glory and deep love that goes along with it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I have never had coffee

with or shook the hand of

someone who

will have no ending

and when I think

of all the beautiful buildings

I pass sometimes in cities

unfamiliar to me,

where I might dream of someday

making a life

for a short while,

I am reminded that they will fall,

or someone will take a cat of nine tails

and beat them into concrete dust,

splinters of wood,

and start something

new there that will also

fall eventually. 

I have considered often

how little this world

loves me

because of how little it

can stand up to dying,

and of how all these things

will make me miss them

someday,

or of how they will fool

me into a hope

that I can keep them,

and that is something

that always breaks my heart.

And so it sounds

strange to me,

the type of strange like

the colors on a patch

of wildflowers I see along

the highway, and wonder how

they exist there, and why they are

so beautiful,

to comprehend how much

it means you love me

when you didn’t end –

     and how you are like the dust

of my imagined fallen buildings

rising up again,

bearing all our stories

and footsteps

and closed doors

and quiet whispers

which stretch down each dark hallway,

and how you will hang a silent banner

across every arch

and entrance of that building

and it will say

“I love you this much.”  

letting go

In Anne Lamott's book "Grace (Eventually)", Anne describes a moment when she was trying to explain the concept of "letting go"-giving up your worries to God- to a group of 3-5 year old boys.

not the easiest crowd.

She describes it to them brilliantly though; she tells them that the process of letting go is like holding on to a bunch of pens during snack time. "What if, when we go in for our snacks, someone offers us a juice box, and I won't let go of the pens even though I am thirsty?"

I just think that's so insightful and simple - that sometimes we hold onto burdens or fears that we just don't need to keep anymore. Especially in light of the fact that we are thirsty and in need of a Savior, who can satisfy us only when we let go so we can pick up a grace that is sufficient and satisfying.

photoboth sesh with your dog at 10:30 on a monday night

#normal

a reason to love blogs

“There’s something sacred about reading a blog post on someone else’s site. It’s like visiting a friend’s house for a quick meal ’round the breakfast table. It’s personal — you’re in their space, and the environment is uniquely suited for idea exchange and uninterrupted conversation. In many ways, we should be treating our blogs like our breakfast tables. Be welcoming & gracious when you host, and kind & respectful when visiting.” – Trent Walton

(via Shiflett)

sanctuaries

Yesterday I was walking around my favorite spot in Charlottesville (TJ Parkway...there are trails up to Monticello or Carter's Mountain, views of the gorgeous VA mountains, and the promise of many puppies being taken on walks there, so it's pretty wonderful) and thinking about how it is important, to have places you can just get up and go to and feel like nothing in the world can touch you.

Whether or not it's a comfy rock on the edge of a river or the comfy corner spot on the couch in your living room, I think we should build sanctuaries for ourselves in life. We should have that place where we can go and seek God in a silent and beautiful place and strip off our days and our worries and just rest. Or where we can pray and seek and struggle off on our own, in our own little spots of wilderness where we are amazed at how beautiful the world is and how blessed we are to be a part of it.

Finding a sanctuary is a good thing. And being brave enough to go there to encounter that version of yourself that is totally void of your masks and worldly fronts - that's a good thing too.

does his new song prove that all things get better with age?

Justin Bieber - like fine wine or cheese? Or like that Thai food that was left forgotten on my fridge shelf and grew psychedelic mold? You decide.

My housemates and I are in the throes of deep philosophical discussion about his new sound. I personally find this new single "Boyfriend" to be catchy...thoughts?

Taylor Swift likes to sing about cars

exhibit A "so baby drive slow, 'til we run out of road"

and B "I was riding shot gun with my hair undone..."

and C "I watched you laughing from the passenger side"

and D "I see your face in my mind as I drive away"

and E "he's got a car and you feel like flying"

and F "you're in the car on the way to the movies"

and G "I hate that stupid old pick-up truck you never let me drive"

and H "and we drive and rive until we found a town far away..."

and I "he opens up my door and I get into his car"

and J "just a boy in a Chevy truck"

and K "there in my rearview mirror disappearing now"

and L "oh I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night"

...just in case anyone was wondering.

on direction

I think one of Jesus' favorite things to pull out of his sleeve is to give us really simple answers to really complicated questions.

For example: Thomas asks a question of Jesus in John 14 that I think is really complicated. He says, "Lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?"

I read that today and immediately thought that Thomas must have been giving a prophecy of my current prayers, which sound a lot like, "Jesus, I don't know what you're doing or what you're going to do, and I have no idea what the next year of life will be like...so how am I supposed to do anything? How can I do anything when I don't know the way?"

Here's how Jesus responds to Thomas.

"I am the way."

To which I want to say, "really, Jesus? That's what you've got? To the big question of what to do with my life and where I should live next year and what paths I should pursue and all my cries for knowledge that I just want you to freaking give me so I don't have to feel like I'm walking around blindfolded in the dark? You don't have anything more?"

And he doesn't.

Of course, in the context of that passage there is much more happening. Because the way Jesus is headed is toward the cross, which ultimately is a very complicated place he begs us to come and die. But for the sake of what I was feeling today, and I think also for the sake of a doubting Thomas, that answer was very simple.

We are not called into knowledge. We are not called to be able to draw out a map of where we are headed with perfect precision and clarity. We are called only into the depth and length and height and breadth of the love which is Jesus Christ, who is all the road-map we need.

a poem from last week's Nica trip

Eye-level

Flying home from your country

our plane is horizontal to the moon,

which has never happened to me before

in this way, feeling eye-level,

that something would kneel down for me

which was already almighty and placed

where it belonged,

but it makes me think of my knees

pressed against the floor of your church

out in the hottest, dustiest middle of

nowhere where I looked at you,

our eyes resting along the same horizontal plane,

and told you that you meant something,

and that your life was bigger than you

had been told it could be,

being so young and so hungry all the time,

which can make someone feel small.

Your name, which sounds like "honey"

said with a laugh or marbles in your mouth,

is sticking to me, even as the moon

flees from the window of this plane

and is not almighty enough to stick

around like you will,

or that moment when you wrapped arms

around my waist, I kissed your hair,

with my eyes falling across the perfect space

to see the glue hanging from your skirt pocket

and held you, nine-years-old,

so young and so hungry

that I felt less than a speck,

and very small.

a productive night at home

you may have seen this video causing a stir among Justin Bieber fanatics (which is TOTALLY not us...I'm talking about other people)

we decided that a good use of our time would be to recreate it.

for your viewing pleasure:

I GOT MY DIPLOMA

Proving that I did in fact graduate from college, my diploma is all rolled up inside this little white tube (I forgot to take a pic with it before putting it in there. whoops. guess you'll have to take my word for it)

Somehow this makes me feel both very happy and also very much like having a panic attack.

WAHOOWA!

on wearing crowns

"Hold fast what you have, so that no one may seize your crown" - Revelation 3:11

(how awesomely beautiful is it, that even when we feel sick or broken or fragile or lowly, Jesus looks at us as someone who is already wearing a crown? Even at my ugliest, I am royally marked by a Father who loves me....and that is pretty freaking incredible)

6 songs, new & old, that are great.

currently on repeat in my life:

1) Poison & Wine - Civil Wars ("you think your dreams the same as mine")

2) Table for Two - Caedmon's Call ("Well this day's been crazy, but everything's happened right on schedule, from the rain and the cold to the drink that I spilled on my shirt")

3) Love Love Love - Of Monsters and Men ("You love love love when you know I can't...")

4) Drive By - Train ("Just a shy guy looking for a two-ply Hefty bag to hold my love")

5) We Owned the Night - Lady Antebellum ("The wine spilled on your dress and all you did was smile")

6) You've got the Love - Florence & the Machine ("Now and then it seems that life is just too much, but you've got the love I need to see me through")

IT. WORKED.

remember this soup incident? Well, I got a very nice letter in response to my complaints, along with TWO coupons. and the best news? I can buy Kid Cuisines with those pups. HOLLA!!!

(this is the face of victory)

and I blame....

you know what sucks?

When something is utterly your own fault and you can't blame anyone else. It's the worst.

here's a shout-out to some things I hate....all of which originate from the sorts of bad habits and/or stubbornness that eventually comes back around to kick you in the knees.

1) when you really want to watch Pride & Prejudice, the Kiera Knightely version, and go to the DVD box only to find it missing.....then realize you were the last one to watch it....and the last one to not put it back.

2) running late to drive somewhere far away and turning on your car to find the gas tank on empty.

3) craving a scoop of peanut butter in your banana smoothie, opening the cabinet and seeing that you left the empty peanut butter jar in there, and that's all you have. (I mean, the trash can is a whole two steps away).

4) the smell of that Italian Wedding soup you forgot to toss out 3 weeks ago.

5) Splinters (I guess you can't really blame the wood for those. although I'd like to)

6) the resulting nausea from eating that Valentine's Day brownie when you thought you weren't full enough yet (you were)

7) the resulting nightmares after thinking you are brave enough to watch a scary movie by yourself. (you're not)

8) the resulting bruises after you think your rain boots are dry enough to give you the traction to run down the stairs (they're not)