Trekking Through the South.

Well, true to form even though I was RIDICULOUSLY excited, I managed to somehow miss the first day of Blogtember. As the roommate and her boyfriend say, I blame pop culture. So we're gonna call it even, and just take a flying leap off the ledge of day two!

Day 2: If you could take 3 months off from your current life and do anything in the world, what would you do? 

{source}

If you don't know who this man is, his name is Charles Martin. I think most of the world would call him a writer, but this man has the ability to weave the story of the Gospel in such a way that people in the everyday world start looking less like normal people, and more like the image of the God they were created by. I've loved his writings and his books ever since my best friend showed him to me a year ago :) 

St. John's River in Florida

{source}

Martin's novels are written through a handful of sleepy towns scattered through the United States south of the Mason-Dixon line, and if I had 3 months and an unlimited supply of money (and probably gasoline) I'd jump in a car, grab a favorite or two, and visit every single one of them :) Just to see the quiet, dreamy places that jump to life inside the pages of his books. It's kind of a dream of mine! 

Hop on over to Story of My Life for the rest of the Blogtember prompts and to jump in the linkup! It'll be fun, I promise! 

Move-In Eve: Two Years Later.

‘The new Impact 360 class is moving in tomorrow.’

I had to stand in the middle of my room, letting the thought scroll through my head. Pause long enough to stand still and really think about it. It was so hard to wrap my mind around that I decided to say it out loud, hoping maybe hearing the words would help them make a little bit more sense.

“The new Impact 360 class is moving in tomorrow.”

I cocked my head to the side and rolled the words around in my mouth, the taste strange and a little bit foreign. Maybe a tad slower?

“The new Impact 360 class is moving in. To Impact. tomorrow.”

The words echoed and seemed to grow in volume as they bounced around the very undecorated walls of a stereo-typical, cookie cutter, white walled college dorm room. I sighed and sat down in the roommates chair, head in my hands. None of this was helping. I could hear laughter out in the hall, and out the window two people walked by, hand in hand silhouettes. Life carried on and the minutes ticked by and no one else seemed to realize that I was in the middle of an emotional, mental, spiritual crisis.

THE NEW IMPACT 360 CLASS WAS MOVING IN TOMORROW.

One year this same thing had happened…a handful of strangers had walked into the doorway of my Eden, and crushed our memories into the foundational gravel they needed to make their own. They’d stepped hesitatingly into the great unknown, completely unaware that we had already walked there and left our marks on benches and our initials carved into the dark corners of trees that boasted whispered secrets you’d had to crouch to hear. They’d moved through rooms and not noticed the smiles, moments and memories, hands held in secrets that the walls had soaked in and held quiet. They’d put head to pillows, night after night, blissfully ignorant of the year worth of tears that same soft lump had soaked up mere months ago.

And I hadn’t remembered until I saw the Instagram of their first hall meeting late that night.

Call it crazy, call it selfish, because when strangers move into your home shouldn’t you realize it? But I didn’t. I’d kept moving because it was hard enough putting one foot in front of another in this new path in South Carolina, without thinking about the fact that I COULDN’T go back. I’d focused on the promise that the sun would rise in the morning and set at night, and when I got through that day I put my head on the pillow and prayed the same thing would happen the next. By the time I had a whole slew of days behind me, having a new little family to partly call mine seemed almost natural…the fact that they had taken home & made it theirs seemed like something to celebrate, not mourn! Visiting meant open arms and curious smiles, new friends to be made, new stories to hear, new lives to be explored.

But this year it’s a little bit different, and as my head leaned on roommate’s desk I was unable to escape the fact that I’d finally come face to face with the difference. My eyes scanned a college dorm room that was not mine no matter how hard I tried to make it so or how many times I tried to pretend that it was, and at the same time my heart cried deep in my chest that this wasn’t home, and could we please, please go back to what was?

Because after a year and a half of walking through life, I’m tired of not belonging. I’m tired of stretching so far from sanctuary. I’m tired of life continuing with no way for me to slow it down or make it stop, and I’m tired of relationships that stretch to their breaking point only to snap back just in time to make you smile and cry all at the same time. I’m tired of my heart being broken into different pieces and never feeling like they’ll all be in the same place again.

I’m sad that I walked out of Eden, and was too stubborn to even turn around to watch the gates shut behind me.

But how do you explain that to a bouncing, bubbling class of freshmen that have their whole lives ahead of them?

“Um, excuse me, but what you don’t know is this is mine?” “You’ll never be able to appreciate this quite as much as I did?” “Life is moving slowly and things aren’t working out like I planned, so please take your happiness and make memories elsewhere because I’m going to try and crawl my way back to the last time I fully felt at home?”

You can’t.

You can’t tell the littles to hug their families hard, because no matter how many times you refuse to admit it, in about a month Momma’s smile and Daddy’s arms are going to feel like the oasis in the desert you’re too far away from. You can’t tell them not to rush into pretending that they love their roommates when they’re really not sure, because pretending doesn’t help anything and walking through the fire with someone you don’t trust only means more walls when you need less. You can’t tell them not to rush to May, because running means you fall easier and once you cross the finish line there’s no way to take back all the nights you should have walked away from or relive the days you should have been a little more open minded about. You can’t tell them to put down the telephone and pick up the Bible, and no sweetie I know he seems like the best thing but I promise Jesus is better.

And somewhere in the midst of all this crazy heart knot, I find half of me wanting to help them and half of me wanting to be them.

I didn’t want to be the last class….I wanted to run away from memories and pain and hurt and futures that said not right now and whispered maybe not ever. And now in the midst of white walls and open roads, I’m beginning to realize that the future is a lot scarier than I ever thought it would be, and who did I think I was kidding when I said coming back didn’t scare me?

I want to relive it…and I’ve never understood the people who said they would relive it differently. I could stand up and preach change and pretend regret, but the truth is if I went back in one way or another I’d make the same mistakes all over again. Because no matter how much I try to keep it at an arms length, my heart wants community the same way it did 2 years ago. It wants a smiling face and flannel clad arms and late nights when the rest of the world faded and for the first time in my life I belonged to someone and something I could come home to. It wants rest and peace and the quiet of an untouched garden, because no matter how much the garden is temporary, staying is security and leaving is NOT.

And coming boldly before an all gracious yet all powerful Savior is something I have yet to learn how to do.

And I think the balance here is somehow realizing how to set contentment in the God who created Eden, not the people who reflected Him within it. But I haven’t learned how to do that yet, and it’s something He’s teaching that my heart doesn’t want to learn all the time. Because no matter how excited I get thinking about new depths and new heights, I’ve trod the old ones and know all the potholes. I know the stumbling blocks to avoid and the places where the path walks easy. I know when the rocks rip through tender, bare souled feet, and where the grass soothes in a cool breeze. I know the path. I’m comfortable because I know it well enough not to need somebody to walk alongside me and tell me when to duck, when to step over the puddles, and which berries are poisonous and which taste like summer.

And somewhere in the midst of comfort is a God that calls me out of it in His infinite goodness and I’m not ready for that and He knows it. And I think in a lot of ways He laughs just a little bit, because the thought of me realizing I need Him is delightful, and the thought of His growing girl grabbing His hand because she’s still scared of thunder storms is exciting, and the idea of a “big” girl realizing she really DOES always need her Daddy is something He’s been waiting for me to realize for a very, very, very long time. 

Back for Round 2!

WE'RE BACK! Back in college, back in our niche, back in the roommates life, back to ridiculousness, back to making new friends, back to learning how to manage relationships near & far, back to worshiping together in chapel, back to this section of life the Lord has us in now.

After a long and glorious weekend trekking through downtown Savannah (including the of-course-we-must-go-there lunch trip to the Pirates House) Momma and I pulled into CIU at 9:00 Monday morning. This past week has been a crazy rush of figuring out classes, unpacking boxes (yes, it took me the whole week guys) running for textbooks, already pre-planning roommates weekend IN Savannah this coming April, and a LOT of class reading. It's been chaotic, crazy, and at times more than a little overwhelming. And after sitting through this first week [and weekend] we've come to a half exciting, half scary conclusion.

Sophomore year is going to be hard. 

In every sense of the word.

It's going to be hard mentally. Classes are harder, and we're growing up. Things aren't as set in stone as they used to be...and some things I've held to as Gospel since I was little I'm beginning to realize aren't. 

It's going to be hard emotionally. There's relationships walking into our lives and some walking out, and both are difficult to deal with. Within the first 48 hours we've been at school, I've already had one teary, heart heavy, Lord why do you have me here, night. 

It's going to be hard physically. I was in bed at 11:30 Thursday night. 11:30 guys. That never happens...not unless I'm sick, dead, or have stayed up sunset to sunrise several nights in a row. But there I was, snuggled in, falling asleep before midnight. Why? There's more homework, workouts, classes, meals, friends, relationships, and growth to be done than there are hours in the day to do it. 

Of course it's going to be difficult spiritually. I haven't had a year yet that hasn't had some trial somehow, in some way. Which in a weird way, is something to be thankful for...because when you stop learning & stretching, it's this kind of crazy coincidence that you also stop growing. And God doesn't deal in stagnancy. 

In the midst of all this crazy God has already been faithful to meet all of us, me especially, exactly where I am. 3 themes that seem to have traveled repeatedly through classes, chapel and life this week are contentment, faith, and the idea that God consistently brings you to situations that overwhelm you so you are constantly reminded on whose strength you stand and depend. 

Contentment is something I've struggled with for a while, and something that really came to a head this summer as I was home. I've been blessed with a beautiful family, beautiful home, beautiful friends, and not much to ask for or complain about. But I am, and always have been, home to a restless heart that looks to much to fast to the future, and spends not enough time in the present....which is hard when God places you in the midst of what can only be described as a long period of waiting and training. And I've always heard my entire life, whether from well meaning peers or adults, "Don't worry, honey. God's never gonna give you more than you can handle." Have I been guilty of drawing comfort from that? Absolutely. But is it true? Nope. 

As I've grown and watched life happen, and especially as I've walked into my second year at CIU, I've realized that God delights in giving us more than we can handle...because let's be honest. If you're not called to higher heights than you can reach, how are you ever going to grow? It happens in sports (and life) all the time. Coaches ask for more miles, teachers push for better grades, God asks for greater faith...because when goals stay at levels you can reach, achieving them brings no improvement, no growth, and ultimately no glory. 

So here's me tipping my hat to this upcoming year....and openly admitting that I'm actually kind of excited for the hard mixed in with all the good! Because trials mean growth and frustration brings forgiveness and ultimately tears at nighttime bring joy in the morning :) 

Also there's a nerdy, book happy, oh my gosh I LOVE MY CLASSES post coming. Cause I got good ones this year guys. BUT REALLY. 

Where Will I Be [When]?

Every summer I fall into the "I wonder where I'll be this time next summer" trap...because I'm nostalgic & sentimental & far to often find myself hoping God will finally put me where I want to be instead of being content where He has me. So, I play the 'picture my life' game. Because sometimes planning my way in the future wedding with my currently non-existent husband naming our suspiciously absent children while I pretend to buy clothes for my not yet achieved counseling job is easier than realizing that right now I'm in a season of learning, training and growing. And that God's got me here for a reason.

Because every time I let myself think "well maybe I'll be here" there's a baby bit of my brain that hopes maybe I will be. And when a year goes by and I'm not as in shape as I want to be, or with the boy I want to be with, or in the job I want to be working....there's a piece of my heart that goes "Lord, how long are you going to make me wait?" And I grumble and complain and let myself get a little more discontent (even if it's just in my heart) because I've spent the last year working myself up to a goal that the Lord never intended me to reach in the first place.

Which, to be honest, is kind of funny. Because every time I look back at a year ago, I'm overwhelmed with this incredible rush of thanksgiving that God doesn't let me plan my life....because He's got better plans, places, people and peace in store for me than I could even imagine at the beginning of my wonderings :) So I suppose here's my plug for God's faithfulness yet again...and a typed out, published reminder to myself not to try and plan out my life before I consult the one who's ultimately planning it for me :)

Enjoy this picture of the Hawaiian white sands....aka possibly in the running for one of my new favorite places :) I'm off to watch the Woman in Black with my family....which I think is an awful life decision, considering I barely survived watching it the first time. But this was DannyBug's movie request, so crossing my fingers I get to sleep tonight. In case you haven't learned this about me yet, I don't do scary movies well. AT ALL. But, in the positive hopes that I actually make it, have a wonderful day and I'll see ya'll soon! :)

day 22: adoption pictures.

My posts seem to be hitting the internet a little bit later & later each night. Tonight it's because the Rachel friend has been gone ALL WEEK and she'll be gone all of NEXT week to boot, so we had to cram 2 weeks (and one weekend) worth of fun into less than 24 hours. So, it's at the end of a long [but extremely worthwhile and filled with lots of fantastic movie watching and even more fantastic conversations] day that I'm finally sitting down to post about:

[adoption] 

In so many ways I am so very unqualified to try & write about this topic. I take it crazy seriously, and am best friends with people who take it even more so...and rightly so. Because isn't adoption the very heartbeat of the Gospel? 

"But I thought it was love?" 

It is. Love through adoption. Pictured through the unconditional acceptance of a child not your own, to be cherished, loved, and accepted as if he or she was. 

It's always made me kind of tilt my head and wonder when people say they just "don't feel like they're called to adopt." I'm not questioning the statement....I'll also go ahead & publicly say I'm not sure adoption is in my future. I want my own husband, my own kids, my own family...selfishly so. But isn't the whole point that we can sit here and talk about Christ calling us TO adoption because God called us THROUGH adoption? 

"But when the set time had come God sent His son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. Because you are His sons, God sent the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out 'Abba, Father!' So you are no longer a slave, but God's child, and since you are His child, God has made you also an heir." 

-Galatians 4:4-7- 

"But to all who believed Him and accepted Him, He gave the right to become children of God." 

-John 1:12- 

In case you're missing this, this is CRAZY. First of, God doesn't owe anyone on Earth ANYTHING....but for those of us who are Gentiles (as in not the Jews, aka God's original chosen people) this is doubly true. But when we believe and accept Christ, we are given the right to be regarded as God's children. Not only are we called Children of God, but we are given EQUAL. STATUS. with Christ, God's Son, as heirs to the throne. 

Allow me to rephrase. 

The God that we have rejected since Eve reached out to take the apple, loved us enough to send His ONLY Son to Earth for us. That would have been enough. Not only that, but Christ died, was buried, and rose again, eternally breaking the chains of death and highlighting the glory of God FOREVER. That would have been enough. God goes further. He's not satisfied with "enough". Christ turns and reaches out with open hand to show us broken chains. He takes life eternal, purchased with His sweat, blood, heartbreak and pain, and offers it to us as a gift. No work necessary, no merit required. And He offers it to us, not as servants, slaves or beggars, but as sons and daughters, heirs to the throne of His Father. 

To say "we have done absolutely nothing and can do nothing to deserve this" seems a little bit redundant. 

Honestly, I think adoption is one of the most unique and clearest pictures of this aspect of the Gospel that we have...and I love watching it. It takes parents that God has endowed with special amounts and kinds of grace, brothers & sisters open hearted to change, and families willing to accept that not everyone will understand. And I think that's beautiful :) 

I'm not saying everyone should go rush off and reconsider their futures, or that people who don't feel like God is leading them to adopt should feel guilty. Like I said....I'm not sure either. What I AM saying is be open to it, because God opened it to you. Come at it with an open & willing heart...and understand that offering certain parts of your life & heart unconditionally to the Lord doesn't mean He'll definitely take them...it just means you trust Him enough to give Him the reigns. 

You do that....and I'll try to do the same :) 

day 15: joy.

Much to my shame & embarassment, day 15 is actually happening the morning of the 16th. BUT that's only because my Saturday actually reflected almost exactly what I wanted this blog post to be about: simple, slow happiness. I was going to try & post last night, but between all the best friends and old friends I ended up talking to, I ran out of time. So here's to relationships and late blog posts and grace from blog readers :)

Okay! Word of the day is: joy. I've already kind of hit the deeper side of this word in a blog post you can read here...so I'll try not to go to deep again! This post will be some sort of weird combination of the fact that I get really excited about really small things, and the ridiculously lovely feelings I experience when summer rolls around every year. So here we go!

Summer for me is a daily reminder in a world that moves entirely too fast that sometimes slowing down is just as necessary as checking of boxes on your to-do list. Summer days start late and end later. It's movie nights, Texas sunsets, sweaty faces, and little sweaty bodies of babies running after you because they've been cooped up in the house too long. It's basketball games in the driveway, sunlit afternoons in the swimming pool, and walking outside at night to greet the scent of night jasmine. It's working hard & playing harder, and learning to say 'no' so you can say 'yes' later.

It's the smiles on the little's faces when you say the words 'snowcone' and you remember when you were little and the world was easy and Awanas and Little League were the highlights of your week.

It's stopping long enough to take deep breathes and be incredible thankful that you are in THIS moment, with THESE people....because life will come later. You will round the corner & face a problem, or a trial, & it is these afternoons & late night phone calls that remind you why God is good, life worth living, and love worth doing.

All of these...summer and babies and kittens and phone calls and family and grillouts do more than make me happy....they bring me joy. Joy that makes problems seem smaller and God seem bigger. Problems that make obstacles overcomeable, days long, and the pace slow :)

.joy. 

day 12: best friend pieces of my heart.

Today has been a blech day. I have spent most of today incredibly frustrated. To begin with, the part of my brain that goes "sleep" around midnight on my nights before work decided to delay that till about 2:00 in the morning last night. I am a night owl. I love nighttime. But when I have to get up and play with two beautiful twins for 9 hours for a week, I NEED MY SLEEP! My mind, instead of speeding up, decided to go about a thousand miles an hour faster than normal, and all of a sudden little things that shouldn't be issues become big things I can't seem to get off my mind. So it was with a racing mind, frustrated spirit, and heavy heart that I reached in to choose today's word. 

Which just REALLY makes me laugh, because today's word/phrase is: 

.best friends.

Which really just confirms for me that God does have a sense of humor, and also delights in bringing me back to reality and out of pity parties quite often...because the best way to do that is to get me talking about my best friends :) 

Contrary to popular belief, the term "best friend" is not one that I dub people easily. Just because I've been blessed with quite a few of them doesn't mean that it isn't an absolutely huge deal in my life. At this point, the women are more like sisters and the men are people that I want to follow around and be just like when I grow up, if that ever happens! If I call you my best friend, it means that I trust you. I love you. I see things in you that I admire. You've changed my life. When I am with you I am reminded of the Gospel, and an all-powerful God that gives me gifts I do not deserve: you. So here are my handful of people that blow my mind, love me well, and I am incredibly thankful for :) 

The Gibbers [Lissa & Stephie] - Melissa and Stephanie came into my life when I was in Israel. I was a snot-nosed little freshman who thought I was big stuff...Melissa was a senior who cared enough to look past the obnoxious and love me anyways :) With Lissa came Stephie, who consistently makes me laugh, brings out the Austrian within, and makes me miss her more every time I leave. Lissa and Stephie, God put you in my life for a reason, and I owe so many dodged bullets and unmade mistakes to your willingness to listen to His urging and look past the immature exterior ;) Thank you. 

The Rooms [JessJess, Kase, and Qualsies] - I put Jess and the Kaylas' together as one person because we basically are. These three girls are my CIU core. They uplift me, encourage me, challenge me, push me when I'm lazy, and remind me of the truth when I'm scared. They laugh when I trip over myself, accept me wholeheartedly, and love me more than I deserve. Roomsies, all three of you are gifts that I could not have asked for if I wanted to. I love you :) 

The Proverbs 31 Women [Mir, HannahGrace & Pamela Sue] - These women, whether they know it or not, are essentially my role models. Wise beyond their years, they continuously pour wisdom into me and point me closer to the Cross. Pam and Hannah I have been close to since Impact...due to a variety of circumstances (and some extreme ridiculousness on my part) Miriam has been a recent addition to my heart and one I am beyond thankful for. I trust these women with pieces of myself not many people get to see. They are my safe place. I am in awe of the work God has done & continues to do in them & through them. Ladies, you are a living example of a Gospel-driven, daughter of the King, and I respect you so much. 

SamSam - Samuel Cottle is the quiet one, and to be honest I have no idea why he sticks around or puts up with me, but I'm so thankful he does. I am hyper and off the wall and all over the place crazy, and he never fails to come back around :) He accepts me. Regardless of how ridiculous, overdramatic, or enthusiastic I get, he is always there. He is my drop by the house unannounced, random pool party, ghost adventure, movie night, packing buddy, go to guy. SamSam, I am thankful for you. 

The Dear Friend [StanMan] - Our friendship started over a cross country competition that I never, EVER won and continued through basketball, track, senior year, Sadie, late night conversations, Impact and finally his high school graduation :) Somewhere along the way, he became less of my friend and more of my little brother, even though of the two of us he's probably the more mature one and definitely the taller one ;) Stan is wise beyond his years, serious about his faith, and constantly seeking the Lord. He is someone I can not talk to for a while, then come back to have a huge catch-up session with and it's like nothing has changed. He laughs at me, thinks its funny that I'm clumsy, and encourages me always :) So, Stanley, this coming year I will miss you. I admire you so much :) 

Kartwright - Of all the people God has thrown into my life, I can honestly say this man has been used by the Lord the most. He has been the source of encouragement, challenges, lessons, unconditional love and acceptance, respect, admiration, and all over ridiculousness. All the people I've named have different tags and labels, but his is the simplest: best friend. He laughs at me, teases me, and in true big brother fashion beats up anyone else who tries to do so. Unless he thinks its funny ;) I admire this man, and respect so greatly the man of God I continue to see. Kartwright...you know :) thank you. 

I've mentioned lots of people, but there are three [besides the ACTUAL sister who has an entire blog post coming later] that have moved so far past the "best friends" point that they are officially my unofficial twin & two baby sisters :) So, if you've read through this long, there's only 3 more. [sorry. I know it's long]. 

SistahFriend [Rachey Rach]- Rachel Bownds has been in my life since we walked through the door of the church nursery together at 4 years old. Come summer time, she lives with me. We somehow survived 5 years of living in 2 different countries, and now college is here and there's miles in between us, and she is still my same age as me sister. Rach, you are different from me, and funny, and beautiful, and all over the place, and parking lot jamtastic, and I literally do not know where I would be without you. I love you. Thank you. [ThunderThighsRadiantTurtleEthelMoobtha]. Your NickyB. 

The Little [Hanners] - Hannah Richards has moved from Facebook friend to Impact little to sister and loved one in a simple year. The rational, realistic, slightly pessimistic side of me, she is one of my favorite people in the world. I have watched as Christ has transformed her from a graduated and uncertain senior to a beautiful, trusting, feeling woman of His, and it has been beautiful and I have cried several times. Hannah, from your first visit to Impact amongst a hurried tour led by me and one lucky other person [winkwink] I knew you were special. I like you. A lot :) 

and FINALLY.....

The Southern Bell [Kels] - I say bell because I've always spelled it that way and this is my blog post and I can. Kelsey Ann and I have been in the same place, ONCE. We've spent two hours together. And we've sent thousands of text messages since then. If I had to claim one person I saw as my legitimate "do not hurt her or I kill you" little sister, it'd be her. She is ALREADY an incredible leader, worker, lover of people, and compassionate hearted beauty, and she JUST graduated High School :) Kels. 4 hours is nothing. I can't wait. 

There. That's it. It's done. These people have changed my life. 

I do not deserve them.....

but I am so thankful I have them :) 

day 9: hell on Earth.

I'm gonna go ahead and dive straight into this one, because it's probably going to end up being on the longer side. The word of the day is: .hell. And to just go ahead and be really, really clear, I don't have anything theological or ridiculously profound to say about this subject. I was raised in a Bible Church that taught us in elementary school Sunday School that going to hell meant we were going to burn alive for the rest of eternity, which was terrifying for me because growing up my biggest fear was that my house would spontaneously catch fire, and I would burn alive caught inside. When I got older and could actually grasp the concept, I was taught that what hell actually meant was "eternal separation from God", which I'll confess didn't mean much to me. I was saved young, and if you've heard my testimony you know that a huge struggle of mine early on was understanding the Gospel because I didn't understand what Jesus was saving me from. I was a "good" kid. So instead of trying to drudge up something meaningful to say about what hell is, I'm going to tell a story.

In January of 2012, my class of Impact 360-ers packed up and flew to Brazil for a month on a missions trip. If you've been on this blog for a little while and somehow missed my connection to Impact 360 & the people there, ask me about it. It's a different story for a different time, but one I would love to tell. But anyways. A week into the trip our team split in half, with half of us going to host camp at Porto Alegre, and the other half flying out to Florianopolis [a smaller town on the beach] to host VBS and do repair work for local churches. To make a longer story short, the trip was hard. It was emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually draining. HARD. 

Our third week there we drove out to the Cadi, a organization that took kids in from the surrounding pavelas (slums) and kept an eye on them, making sure they were fed, taken care of, and getting some sort of education. We got to host a VBS for these kids, as well as paint and restructure what would soon be one of their new classrooms. It was our last project in Florianopolis, and I can honestly say that starting the week I was ready to go home. 

The first night we worked in the Cadi we came back to our camp and had a team meeting. Going into the team meeting I was fine. And then suddenly, I wasn't. I don't know what happened or what snapped, but all of a sudden I felt unbelievably, ridiculously empty. At the time I tried to pass it off as exhaustion or sadness. I had had recent conversations, hard conversations with two very close friends of mine, neither of which had come to any sort of conclusion. However, as soon as I walked out of the main house I knew that wasn't it. I walked back down the hill with Payton, my roommate, and we sat down on some stairs outside of the rooms. She didn't ask me what was wrong, she just started to play guitar. Eventually a handful of our friends wandered over and we had an impromptu worship session, something that was somewhat of a habit for us. I stared off into space for what I thought was 5 or 10 minutes, and was later informed was more like an hour. Eventually it got late and since we had a full day of work tomorrow everyone headed off to bed. Kartwright walked over to me and tried to get me to talk for a few minutes, before finally taking a few steps back. He finally sighed, wished me goodnight, and walked off. As soon as he shut his door, I broke. 

I have cried before, but this was sobbing. I mean bent at the waist, doubled over, body shaking, hit the ground because you can't hold yourself up anymore sobbing. I was curled up in a ball at the foot of the stairs, gasping for air because I couldn't take breaths big enough to keep me oxygenated before I started crying again. The only 2 people up besides me were our leader and a girl he was talking to on the other side of the stairs....other than that, I was completely alone. 

Let me say this. I can't say for sure that I know what it feels like to have your soul ripped from the one who created it...forever. But that night, I'm pretty sure I got a piece. See, that entire trip I spent frustrated because I couldn't understand the Gospel. I couldn't understand why this one message made people cry and run forward and break in the middle of their lessons. I didn't understand the need, the unquenchable longing in your heart for something that only God could truly fulfill. I didn't understand what it was to be empty. But laying there that night on the stairs, too weak to pick myself up and walk to my room, I finally understood. I cried outside for half an hour, begging God to do something, anything to show me that He cared. I didn't care if that was a shooting star, a voice, a miracle, or just someone coming outside to hug me. I was begging for anything. Never in my LIFE have I felt so alone. I never doubted that God was there...I only doubted that He cared. I knew that He heard me...I couldn't understand why He wasn't reaching me out and putting the jagged edges of my heart back together. It was like I could see Him, feel Him, watching me across the darkness, completely unresponsive to my grief, pain and heartbreak. I have never felt so meaningless, worthless, hopeless, and unbelievably devoid of life. 

I don't know what Hell will look like, feel like, or entail. But if being separated from the Lord eternally feels anything like that night, I have never been more thankful for Christ OR the Gospel. The awareness of my need for a Savior, for hope and meaning and life has never been more apparent to me than in those 2 hours I spent listening to music and crying my eyes out. I went into Brazil begging that God would help me understand the Gospel, and He did. He just took me the painful, I promise after this you won't ever forget what I did for you, route. And just so this story doesn't end on what seems to be an absolutely awful note:

I finally got to bed and told myself that everything would look better in the morning, because that's what I've heard all my life. It didn't look better in the morning. I was an absolute wreck and I was barely holding it together. Pam walked up to me just to ask me how I was doing, and I broke down and told her the whole thing. She, at a complete loss for what to say, prayed for me, hugged me, and put me on the bus off to the Cadi for the day. That day was the last day of VBS, and I was responsible for sharing the salvation bracelets with the kids, which basically meant I would stand up and tell the Gospel story, before finally closing with inviting them to pray the salvation prayer along with me. Needless to say, The Lord and I weren't on the best terms after last night. I didn't understand WHAT He was doing and I didn't want to share the Gospel. I felt like I couldn't. How could I share something I didn't understand? But I did it because I had too, and after finally getting through the story and bowing my head I invited the kids to pray along with me and started the prayer. 

Of the 90+ kids in that room that day, almost every single one of them repeated after me.

I don't know how many of them fully understood, and how many of them genuinely received Christ. But it was the final point of realization for me. Hearing almost 100 clear, beautiful voices praying to Jesus Christ in Portuguese, asking for salvation shot straight through my heart, and I broke for the Gospel for the first time. 

Of all my experiences in Brazil, this is the clearest :) The phrase "I'm thankful I'm not going to Hell" doesn't seem sufficient. It blows my mind. My soul DESERVES to go there....in my fallen, broken humanity, it's where I belong. But because I serve a God who loves to be glorified through His mercy, I will NEVER experience it. And for that, I am broken, undeserving, and indescribably thankful.