my heart is overwhelmed

God takes me by surprise every single day. 

I spoke at a friend's church last week and right before I was praying that His will would be done, 

and His words would be spoken- 

He gave me a glimpse into the past, something I had never, ever considered. 

When I was a sophomore in high school I went to a fall retreat centered around the word MORE:

The last night I felt compelled to pray with a leader; he asked me what I wanted to pray about. . . 

and all I could say was "I want to do more for Him, I want to be something more." 

I went to Mexico for the first time, my sophomore year in high school. 

Mexico turned out to be my something more. 

That memory was all but forgotten until a week ago. 

I casually look back to a year ago, and all the memories then stowed.

I see a girl that had to let go of someone dear, in spite of the pain ravished upon her heart and soul.
Just a girl who refused to give up, lay down; in the midst of days spent in torrents of tears.

I look back on that October, just a year ago, when the application was sent in, after reading a few hundred words in a book. Then there were those months leading up to March, wondering what on Earth was I thinking? How could my wounded heart manage? How could I muster up the courage?

"I"

But it was never I. It was never about me. It was always Him and what He could and would accomplish.

Because it was Him, who caught my eyes in that book; it was Him who spurred me to apply.

He knew that I was made for Morelia, even after all of me was surely convinced the Baja- was always where I would be.

I boarded that plane March 23rd and I was looking back. I was afraid. The Holy Spirit was interceding for me in prayer, because the words just wouldn't come.

My flight landed. I was picked up and taken to meet my family for the next three months.

I walked in and something overcame me. I just knew that I was home.

That night, I sent my best friend a text message telling her that I knew I was going to be okay, that I knew I was home.

I didn't know on March 23rd that I would fall in love with a place and people so unknown to me. I didn't know that an ease would come with the language, I fought for so long to learn. I didn't know that those goodbyes, three months later, would be some of the hardest goodbyes I would ever make.

But my God knew.

He knew boarding that plane would forever change me. He knew that my wounded, empty heart, still reeling from someone lost, would come to finally realize He was and is, truly all I ever need.

Those three months of pure joy would turn into a couple of months spent in the desert. My heart would fail me. I'd get caught up in me, again. I'd miss that He was beside me, His hands waiting to take mine.

But I'd find hope. He would renew what was lost, rekindle the flame.

He'd use people to wash away the wounds of words. He'd use beautiful friends to take me in for a time, resume loving and living as if years hadn't passed. He'd use a church in Texas to speak life over me, many times over-placing me in the center, pouring their hearts out in prayer.

He'd provide continually-showing up in t-shirt money with letters showering me in support. He'd spur an idea in a friend for a craft show, putting me well on my way to Morelia for sixth months or more.

He is providing and I am just a daughter, awestruck at how blessed I am.

Simply put, my heart is overwhelmed. . .

So here I am, hopeful and grateful-welcoming Thanksgiving...with this mess of words.

I am thankful for you, today. You've sat with me in silence. You've spoken life over me. You've prayed for me. You've read my heart in words, time and again. You've supported me. You've challenged me.

You've loved me.

And there are many, many times when love is all that is needed.

Praise be to our God, who creates us to be something more, who makes our hearts come alive with passion, who sets us apart.

home is wherever I'm with you

...and what she understood is that all the forces were love 

and that she was the opposite of lonely. 

This could be enough, she realized, this kind of being together. 

Friendship. 

In spite of all her longing, this could be enough...”

I have a heart with many homes. 

I relish the people He has so gracefully placed in my life, in the time that He gives them to me, to love. 

I think of the lonely hearts; and sadly, I think that so often defines me. 

Until, He takes me to my many homes, in His time, and He gently shows me love. He shows me that the truest friends and loves of your life will pick up as though no time at all has passed. 

They will love you. They will hold you. 

You will love them. You will hold them. 

Your eyes will fill up at the hurts experienced out of their love. And they for you. 

You will stumble into an ease of giggles at the smallest of things. 

Your heart will beat to a new beat, because in that moment you are somewhere you know, you are known. 

I'll have to catch my breath, and so will you. At the lengths, the depths, the very heights our Maker has taken us, at the very thought that He placed you in my life for a season and me in your's.

Our eyes will meet and we'll know that without a doubt, we are loved. 

In this moment together, in the one to come apart. 

We'll linger in the moments, we have been given. 

We'll know that we are not alone. 

We will place these sweet, beautiful moments into our heart's pockets for keeps, 

because that is where they should be. 

Carried within us- for those days when the weary heart of your's and mine, can't seem to find the courage to get out of bed, and face the day. When the light seems to be dimmer and hope seems a little lost:


We'll remember that the grace of our God is enough. 
We'll remember that He redeems the weary and the lonely days, the lost and the struggling-
that He redeems the irredeemable. 
We'll remember that we do belong together. 


And His faithfulness will always prevail, by the grace of my God you and I will never, ever be alone. We will walk this road together, in light of His goodness and truth shown. 


I'll love you when you are with me and when we're apart, because you will always, always have a piece of my heart. 

seeing the season through

“Sadly many of us have been led to feel that somehow we ought to want less, not more. We have this sense that we should atone for our longings, apologize that we feel such deep desire. Shouldn’t we be more content? Perhaps, but contentment is never wanting less; that’s the easy way out. Anybody can look holy if she’s killed her heart; the real test is to have your heart burning within you and have the patience to enjoy what there is now to enjoy, while waiting with eager anticipation for the feast to come. In Paul’s words, “we groan inwardly as we wait eagerly.” Contentment can only happen as we increase desire, let it run itself out toward its fulfillment, and carry us along with it.”

I don’t know if I am alone in this. This embarrassment, this shame that comes with a desire that shakes a heart from it’s core. This wonderment that comes and awakens itself within, after a soul’s dry spell. Weariness befallen on a bent back, a bruised heart and trembling knees. Struggling to be healed and become trusting of You and Your perfect goodness to release me from the binding chains. 

Months spent on the field, and the moments coming rushing back, fresh to the touch and seemingly new to the burdened eyes. I see those first few minutes stumbling upon bright city lights and walking in the heat of the day- I hear those first words exchanged. The beauty of the book being seen with my own eyes. 

I see the brown-eyes beauties running up to play, asking how long I would stay. Giggles overflowing and shouts of glee when more time was known to be spent than just a week. Passing the time steadying themselves in my lap, making sense of my curls- getting lost in their sweet company. 

Remnants of moments replay within my heart and there’s a disappointment that comes and it goes-how could I have forgotten Your love, oh how You love me? Surrounded by beauty and months spent in the country I have come to know and love, but still yet I had forgotten Your mercies new every morning, rest found in Your open arms, healing and hope for a heart disarmed. Love’s been all around me, and even still I kept fighting to just be. 

Two days ago I walked off a plane- to the eyes of many resilient, inside overwhelmed- near breaking. 

My last few days in the Baja were spent loving on the children, making sure they knew how much they will always mean to me. Holding them close, hearts touching and giggles intertwining, capturing every still moment to hold onto forever. My time came to a close, with a handful of lasts-last classes, last hugs, last laughs, last tears among some of the dearest people about me all in the same place, for once. 

And here I am, I am on the other side-with a few things to tell your kind reading eyes. The last two months held some of the most challenging moments of my life. I was literally living in a desert, and somehow found that my heart was losing itself in a desert of its' own. 

I became spent in every sense of the word. It was a fight to be there and to love the beautiful people as they deserved to be loved. I let go. Taken aback, that I wasn't in it, the place I had longed to be home for ten years was home. . . but I was missing. Yet, that is what happens when we sometimes claim to have our every future moment figured out, God steps in and changes you. 

All this to say it was a daily battle and through it all, God made something known deep within my heart- that my time was left unfinished in Morelia. 

Many nights were spent with a conflicted heart, struggling to find the words in prayer, but I can tell you with utter confidence that my God is taking me back to reunite with my heart come January, in Morelia.  

God used these past two months. And thankfully, His beautiful children saw me through my very own desert. I will be spending these next three and a half months in Indiana, working, gathering support, and being with my family and I will then return to Morelia for an indefinite period of time in January. My heart is overcome with gratefulness that He makes beautiful things out of dust, and out of us.

welcome feelings

Much time has passed since my words last greeted your kind, thoughtful eyes. . . and here in the wake of such an altogether beautiful day- rather than grace my tired eyes with sleep, my heart thought it would be better to appreciate the blessed silence and reveal everything as it has taken place.

In the weeks since I have last written, forty children have graced our program-filling up the once long ago abandoned building with their shouts of glee and overwhelming laughter. Filling our wearied hearts with a joy in knowing that everything else might have gone wrong, but this is playing out to be something beautiful.

Spontaneously, we decided to throw a huge party for them celebrating Independence Day. We went in search for cakes, pounds of candy and a piñata. Even though the craziness meant locking up the building exhausted with twinges of headaches, the pure joy was more than enough to make it all worth it. The hilarity of it all was so beautiful, so refreshing. Seeing the women bent over in laughter, the children scrambling for every piece of candy that hit the ground, did wonders to my heart.

Combine that with today, the confraternidad [an event held for all of the Churches of Christ in the Baja at one church], which took place at our very own church. There's just something about seeing standing room only, hearts from all over, singing with one voice. There's just something about seeing a church that struggles to feed every hungry child, find a home for every single mother, bring hope to every hopeless family- open their doors without second thought. Feeding hundreds physically and spiritually, even if it means that they might do without.

Unity. Precious unity. That's what we were created for, and here my heart still sits astonished at what it truly means to see it before my very own eyes.

I was able to be with a lot of my children today. I know that sounds surprising for me to even make note of, but they are rarely all in one place-making it difficult for me being able to hold them all and laugh with every one of them.

The group comes and they have a picture of what life looks like, but life goes on here. The children don't venture to the church building every waking moment. Hope dims. Hearts ache. Needs rise.

But today, bless today, when everyone can be reminded that in the shelter of each other we will live, we do live. Bless today, for being a day with work and welcome laughter for His one church, His one body of believers. A day were hope was and remains to be fully alive.

the faces of Oasis

Your fingerprints can be seen on a million faces. . .

I'd like to tell you that even in the darkness, there is still light.

That even in your weakness, there is still strength.

That even in your hopelessness, there is still hope.

God has opened my eyes; He is creating me, into His new creation. There's a verse that says we are new creations, I think often times we look for that to be a process that has a beginning and an end. But what I have seen, is that God is still working on me. He is still creating me into something new, something messy into something built for a reason, something weak and fragile into something built with His strength, residing in me.

I'll be honest this part of my journey has been one full of testing, challenges, stress and desperation. Nothing has come easy for me. It's been a battle to live fully here, with all that I am. But rather, than look up to my Maker, my eyes fell downcast, my spirit began to rest in hopelessness. In a sense, I began to run from my Answer. My eyes lost the ability to withhold emotion, I was nothing but a shell. . . a pile of dry bones.

Although, God woke me a couple days ago and gently nudged me to pursue Him, to turn my empty, downcast eyes upward in search of Him, in all of this. I took a couple of steps forward, my shaky hands and weak spirit reached out for my Bible. . . .

In a cry of desperation, He heard me. He came to save me. . . and what made me think that He wouldn't, this time?

But you know, I think we all have our moments when we wonder what is in us- that is worth saving? We've ran and ran even farther, found home in our hopelessness. Yet, if we just hold out our shaky hands, turn our downcast eyes upward to Jesus. . . He will always come to save us. He'll reach out to our dry bones, take them up in His gentle calloused hands, put everything back together in its' right place. He will sing over us, that we are worthy to be healed, to be released, to be unbound. . . and to be saved.

All this to say, that these past few days- I have lifted my eyes. I have found rest in His words, written so long ago, but even now speaking life into such perfect timing. I have sought Him out. I have reckoned with my wounds and my confusion, deciding that to God, be the glory.

New life has been breathed into me, to see these remaining days through. I have been reminded that despite all expectations, I live for One, God, alone. With that comes the ability to know that there will be people who don't understand me, and those with too great of expectations.

But in the midst of those, there will be some that see at times, I get lost into confusion. There will be some that know, I am seeking His plan for me. And His plan might mean something completely different than, even myself, would have ever expected. I can't not listen to Him. I can't not follow His plan for me.

Out all of this comes, something beautiful. There is a time and a season for everything.

He created me for this short season, to see something new begin-and to have a part in that beginning. Oasis began yesterday, after many tears and cries of desperation. Out of two heavily burdened hearts, He gave life to a vision. A vision that began beautifully, with twenty-two children marching into the abandoned doors, laughter and life filling the once lifeless, empty halls.

Teen girls relishing time to decorate something of their very own. Children dedicated to carry out their studies, underneath a couple of hearts that care. Worship with abandon, causing hope to finally rise within.

After careful and delicate plans, a vision was put into action. These children have a safe place, a home, two afternoons a week-to be encouraged, taught, listened to, loved, seen, understood and known.

Because there is a beauty of being known and understood, that lacks in many precious hearts. . .

And yes, You make beautiful things, out of this and out of us.

the truth, "it is what it is"

I have been residing here for over a month now.

A lot of things have attempted to sway me, tempted me to pack my bags and find the next flight home.

You know?

This isn't the rose colored glasses, picture-perfect view for you, but I never promised that. Instead I want to be true to you and true to Him. I want you to know the day to day happenings, those that end with the biggest heart felt laughter, to the days that end with a deepened weary sigh.

What's beautiful is that God is the same in all of this, if He wasn't- I don't know how this heart of mine would be faring. All this to say is that it's been difficult. Money isn't easily transferred, our apartment is far from being done, everything takes so much longer here if you want to meet any success.

We're bearing the burdens of meeting the contractor's needs, attempting to make every receipt meet its' place with the hope that it be paid in full, and did I mention, starting up a program with two, yes just two of us?

I was updating someone very dear to me a couple of hours ago, and she was sure we must be sinking into the pit of misery, because nothing, nothing is coming easy. Although I was able to smile and respond thanks be to God, that I am not alone in this; and I mean, if I was, I would be falling apart.

But that's the blessing and beauty in this, God made sure to bring someone here with me. I thought for years that I could do this on my own and I know without a doubt that it could not have been done that way.

There have been discouraging and purely frustrating moments, because some things just aren't working as they should. But these are the moments when we just allow ourselves to laugh and realize everything will be okay, in time. There's so much more to this. If all we can accomplish is love on these dear, precious souls then so be it, and to God be the glory.

In the not so picture perfect moments, let your heart take a breath and somehow find the joy in it, I promise that even in the most difficult times, it's there. It's in there. It's an amazing feeling being able to tell you that, and truly believe it. Of course, I and everything else, are still works in progress.

These eyes still do wonders for my heart,

this, these and those.

Well-traveled.

She stands, with a country calling her name.

Ignoring those, that expect her to take a claim.

Made for this, these and those.

Made so that everyone will come to know-

The love, the grace, the mercies that You oh so long, to bestow.

Hope in the desolate desert dust, that cakes the bare calloused feet that walk these roads.

An abundant life offered to all the sons and daughters, carrying their own loads.

Life to be spoken over these precious souls,

Love waiting, to take it’s toll.

So she lives for this, these and those.

She lives so that everyone will know.

Dusty feet run up to meet her,

Giggles overflow from the tiny hearts,

And it’s a wonder-

How she lived without them.

Because it is with this these and those, where her passion stems.

The eyes that twinkle with glee,

The voices that rise and fall, and sing.

Reason beckons her to run out to meet them, with arms open wide.

Reason keeps her here, even when the worries and the doubts tempt to collide.

She’s bound to be different,

Live with back bent, and heart spent.

Cause you made her to bear the burden of a country,

Home to those missing and unable to see,

The beauty of You and all that YOU are.

You, standing arms outstretched, love waiting, with the door ajar.

And so she was made for this, these and those,

And so she will live, so that everyone will know.

El Espíritu del Señor omnipotente está sobre mí, por cuanto me ha ungido para anunciar buenas nuevas a los pobres. Me ha enviado a sanar los corazones heridos, a proclamar liberación a los cautivos y libertad a los prisioneros, a pregonar el año del favor del Señor y el día de la venganza de nuestro Dios, a consolar a todos los que están de duelo, y a confortar a los dolientes de *Sión. Me ha enviado a darles una corona en vez de cenizas, aceite de alegría en vez de luto, traje de fiesta en vez de espíritu de desaliento. Serán llamados robles de justicia, plantío del Señor, para mostrar su gloria. Isaias 61:1-3

sometimes. . .

Sometimes I think you just have to see it, for everything to finally sink in.

Sometimes I think you have to feel it, for everything to be fully, believed.

You have to take a walk in the man's shoes, with the calloused hands declaring praise to His Maker, in his beautiful resilient song of adoration.

You have to feel the pain of almost losing a child, to now bear the weight of seven children upon your heart and soul.

You have to learn the life of the children that only know begging, because they just, have never had.

And only then, will you really understand what it is, to have more than enough.

Sure, not all are meant for this life on the field. Not every heart is built to bear the burden of another nation, another language, an unfamiliar life.

But all can make a difference, all can pause and reflect on what it means to have more than enough.

For those that are graced with much, much is required.

We were given this life to be spent for love's cause, the empty-handed, the wearied, the worried, the misunderstood, the voiceless. Whether you see it or not, they are your neighbors--that bear invisible tears, that lack hope, that are too tired to keep fighting.

So what stops us from loving to the tips of our fingers, what keeps us from believing that we are more than capable of making a difference? What quiets us, before we even begin to try and come up the words to reach out to those about us?

What would happen if we all were to see that He always provides and reach deeper into our pockets for more than just a handful of coins?

What would happen if we all were to see that there will always be enough time, to go and see for ourselves-those that are hurting, those that are fighting for some semblance of hope?

What would happen if we all were to see that this life was given, fleeting as it is, only to be spent?

I think we would begin to see that with Him, and only with Him- we have the capacity to love the whole world . . .

It's been quite a journey and we aren't even halfway yet. There's been resistance and questions, and there always is, when choosing to leave what we know and love. There's been resilience and beauty withstanding it all. There's been hope for the hopeless, and rest for the weary. There's been needs met, moments after being seen. All this to say, is that God's in this. . . and He brought us here to love the unloved, reach the unreached, and be spent all for love's cause. And you, can do the same.

stepping away.

Do you ever have those moments when you just feel like you need to step backwards, and regroup?

Do you ever have those moments, when you came into something compelled and called, only to get to the desired point and questions can still be seen in your eyes?

Do you ever have those moments, when you wonder what is enough?

Those moments that stretch you to the limits.

Those moments that make you question.

Those moments that don’t meet expectations.

Those moments that you just have to fight for.

Those moments that cause you to reconnect to your purpose.

I’m in this kind of moment. I’m that weary traveler, that vagabond that has been forced to take a rest. Pursuing this dream for miles, years upon end, yes, this is home. Living out of a suitcase, moving to here and there, to make something happen-this is home.

But it’s not about me. . .

I t n e v e r w a s .

This is for the children, those that happily scream my name--in hopes of winning my attention. This is for the mothers, those that spend every ounce of themselves tarrying to their children’s needs, when they themselves, would give anything for a rest. This is for the people, those that ask and those that do not. This is for them.

All of these children, are mine to love.

Each and everyone of them, in reality, brought me here.

Sure, I will tell you, I am looking around and I am overwhelmed. Because I am here, and I know that I cannot meet every need. I cannot fill every hungry child’s stomach, I cannot place money into every pocket that lacks.

Although I do have a God who knows, each of these children by name, He calls each of them His own. I have a God, who knows the bare shelves, the empty hands. I have a God, who brought me to this country, with the twinkling eyes that today, stood by my gate. I have a God, who is certainly in the moments when all is well, and when all I can do is pause, be still, regroup.

Little by little, He’s been placing strangers into our path, who listen to the needs we know of and immediately set out to do, what they can to fulfill it. A bed built to hold two precious girls, shelves being built to house an endless amount of supplies at the church. His sons that take it upon themselves to pray over this ministry still beginning, to tell us, it’s okay to let ourselves be still, for awhile. His daughters being quick to mother us and make sure we have a home cooked meal, or a safe place to call home. It is by these people of His, His sons and His daughters, that these moments seem more bearable, the light seems a little brighter, where the hope still stands.

And so after all is said and done for the day,

I take a moment to myself and remember that:

it’s not about me, it never was.

It’s about these children, that He has given me to love.

small beginnings.

“Don’t despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin,”

Zechariah 4:10.

So if I have learned anything in the past nine days living here in Vicente Guerrero, Baja California, Mexico. . . It would be that God always shows up.

He shows up even in the places, where I think surely He isn’t, or even when doubts seep in and invade my heart, telling me that maybe I am not supposed to be here-that maybe I am not capable of everything I had dreamed for this place. See this isn’t some flippant decision to come here, those of you that know me, know that this has been upon my heart for years, years.

I say all this to admit, there was a struggle with this move. I still can’t truly peg the source, and suppose it to be the transition of leaving [the part of this life I have come to know so well] Morelia. I left more of me there, than I had expected.

Truthfully, I am having to relearn the art of being exactly where I am, the art of fully, being present. God in His mercy and goodness, brought me here. The same God that saw me into Morelia, is seeing me into this very place, the Baja.

In the little over week that we’ve been here, we’ve been surrounded and immersed into the lives, many like our own, brought from the States, and taken with the people who know this as home. They’ve advised us, comforted us, protected us, encouraged us-giving us the purest welcome anyone could ever ask for. We’ve learned from their success, their starts, and at times, even their disappointments.

We’ve seen a septic tank overflowing, our car being broken into, and the ideas of two single women begin to come to fruition. I can proudly say in this moment, that I believe, I finally am all here. I had my moments in the beginning; I still miss my students in Morelia, like crazy. Yet, I couldn’t bear to be here for three months, and not allow my heart to live here, fully, utterly and completely. To love, with all of me. To reach out and take hands, to hold the mothers and the children.

The Spanish confidence tends to still lack, but where I am weak, He is incredibly strong. The love for Morelia hasn’t weakened, but I can’t allow it to take hold of me either. God is allowing me to live out my dream here in the Baja, and it has challenges I would never have seen to rise up, but He is allowing me to live out my dream. He is encouraging me through His people, both my roommate Karly, and those that I love that are so faraway. He is encouraging me through His words, “Don’t despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin,” Zechariah 4:10. He is encouraging me through song, Un Viaje Largo, by Marcela Gandara:

A sido largo el viaje pero al fin llegue,
La luz llego a mis ojos aunque lo dude,
Fueron muchos valles de inseguridad,
Los que cruze,
Fueron muchos dias de tanto dudar, pero
Al fin llegue, llegue a entender...

Que para esta hora he llegado,
Para este tiempo naci,
En sus propositos eternos yo me vi,
Para esta hora he llegado,
Aunque me ha costado creer,
Entre sus planes para hoy me encontre.
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/m/marcela_gandara/un_viaje_largo.html ]
Y nunca imagine que dentro de su amor,
Y dentro de sus planes me encotrara yo,
Fueron muchas veces que la timidez,
Me lo impidio,
Fuero muchos dias de tanto dudar,
Pero al fin llegue, y a entender...

Que para esta hora he llegado,
A este tiempo naci,
En sus propositos eternos yo me vi,
Para esta hora he llegado,
Aunque me ha costado creer,
Entre sus planes para hoy me encontre.

Que para esta hora he llegado,
A este tiempo naci,
En sus propositos eternos yo me vi,
Para esta hora he llegado,
Aunque me ha costado creer,
Entre sus planes para hoy me encontre.

Ah sido largo el viaje pero al fin llegue.

I look back at the many places He has taken me, the many homes I have come to know globally, and locally. The people I have come to know as a family. I’m amazed. He’s given me the life of a vagabond, a life this girl years ago, would have never dared to dream. Years ago, speaking was a task that was done barely above a whisper, in my native language. And here He has brought me to a foreign country for the second time, in just a matter of weeks, and I am placed here to attempt to speak an altogether different language. What a feat, that He has brought me through. What works that He has done, and yet to do. I’m just a girl, that was called to so much more. A girl that has seen goodbyes become frequent, not saying that they’ve ever become easier. Although a girl, with a heart big enough to hold all of her homes, simultaneously, the distance holding no importance. A girl, who will set out to live fully present, for the days to come.

He believed and believes in ME.

What a week, that has absolutely flown in front of my eyes, I cannot form the words to possibly portray everything as it has transpired, nor do I have the energy to recite every detail. Although, I know that you all deserve to hear the bits and pieces.

I flew to San Diego and met up with the rest of my group from various states [all intertwined for the same mission,with the same love for the Baja's beautiful people]. This week has been spent doing everything that normally happens: clinics, Bible classes, construction, and most importantly loving on the dear children and people.

I have loved the eyes lighting up as I tell the children, that we don't have to say goodbye, this time. I have loved being able to sit without pondering the inevitable van ride home. I have loved the better understanding for the language, that I have come to develop over time.

And sure, I have had my moments of being absolutely overwhelmed. Which I believe it is all due to the major transitions I have made within just a few weeks time. Learning to love Morelia, only to leave, returning home for two weeks, to leave, and then coming to the Baja, and watching the family I have come to love on these trips pray over me and leave me behind.

Sadly, pictures can't be uploaded from here, so check out my Facebook to see the faces to match my stories.

[now and in the future].

And here I am, on the other side, giving thanks to my Father in Heaven, who believed in me, with this dream. A dream, six years old, is now being lived out in me, I am blessed.

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This one is for you and me...

"I have come to believe that we do not walk alone in this life. There are others, fellow sojourners, whose journeys are interwoven with ours in seemingly random patterns, yet, in the end, have been carefully placed to reveal a remarkable tapestry. I believe God is the weaver at that loom." Richard Paul Evans.

Truth is, we were just avoiding goodbyes,

accompanied by silence and our broken sighs.

Five, then four, quickly became three,

and it began to take all of me--

to hold it all in,

beneath my thick skin. . .

And you said, it was time,

walking together, we went,

hearts already spent.

We stood in that same place,

tears streaming down, leaving their trace.

Holding on, not letting go.

Begging for Your very presence to be bestowed.

Face in hands, trying to understand.

All but having to walk away...

knowing the longer we spent; the longer we'd stay.

Leaving another goodbye, for the next,

tears began falling, like all the rest.

A couple minutes passed,

and they were the last.

The door opened to close, behind the both of you,

and the sobs began to come, it was all I could do.

And just like that, I was left with two more goodbyes,

and heavily swollen eyes.

A week has passed,

and the missing still outlasts.

But I'm carrying you in my heart everyday,

and that is precisely where you will always stay.

A part of my heart belongs to you, it's true.

God used you to open my eyes...

find beauty and joy in place of my questioning why's.

I didn't know such a love exists-

for me to have and to hold.

Thankfully, I heeded the call and didn't resist-

or I would've never known such a love, to break the mold.

Never hold any love in reserve...

"No, life cannot be understood flat on a page. It has to be lived; a person has to get out of his head, has to fall in love, has to memorize poems, has to jump off bridges into rivers, has to stand in an empty desert and whisper sonnets under his breath... We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. God has established the elements, the setting and the climax and resolution. It would be a crime not to venture out, wouldn't it?" Donald Miller,"Through Painted Deserts"