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.

Donations can be made here: http://www.ngoutreach.org/Contribute.html

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.