grace for every needy heart

"because He has been in the wilderness with us. 

He has been in the wilderness for us. 

He has been acquainted with our grief. . ."

It's been awhile since you've seen my words here. 


More time has been devoted to being with people, than sitting with my words. More time has been devoted to finding more of Him, to rediscovering the beauty of being fully alive. More time has been spent realizing that fear has no hold on me-that before I tell myself I can't do something, I should let myself first attempt it. 


Just a few months ago, I was in a wilderness. I was lost. I was fighting for hope. I had given up on myself, in so many ways. 


He hadn't. 


I just had to ask for Him. He was there with me all along, but I honestly didn't want to admit that I needed Him to pick me up again. Cause I had fallen so many times. . .


But here lies the beautiful truth. Perfect love casts out all fear. Perfect love keeps no record of wrongs. Perfect love tells the story of a Father that runs out to meet us in the wilderness, taking us up in His arms. Perfect love doesn't leave us where we are, doesn't let us go. 


So all I had to do, was let go, let Him enter into the mess that I had become. 


And He did. I feel His presence with me. I see Him about me. 


He reached out to me, tightened His hold and reminded me gently, that He wasn't leaving me behind. 


Whispering ever so gently in beautiful old friends and strangers alike, that disappointment, fears, hopelessness have no hold on me any longer. That I am loved. 


By His grace, the wilderness isn't home any longer; I know that will not always be the case. He'll bring me back one of these days, when I need a reminder. 


By His grace, I run- I used to think that I could never do anything of the sort. 


By His grace, I know that I am being called to Morelia, for such a time as this. 


By His grace, I can use my voice to speak up, when I used to sit back silently. 


It's all by His grace, sweet friends. I hope that if you are battling the wilderness tonight, that you will keep fighting. it's worth it. You're worth it. All you need to do is just admit where you are, dear heart. Ask Him into what you are facing. Don't let pride have its' way; don't wait for tomorrow. We are more than conquerors, and that goes for TODAY. You don't have to wait until you get things figured out, ask Him. I promise you that He will come. He'll come to your rescue. He'll meet you right where you are. 


Sweet Father, God of the broken, the wounded, the weary. God of the wilderness and God of the mountaintop, thank You for coming to our rescue. Thank You for loving us, even when we are hard to love. Thank You for picking up our pieces, no matter how many times we've fallen. I pray for these precious readers and for whatever they're facing right now-whether it's a sickness of their own or one they love, it's a constant battle to feel You, it's a fight to have hope enough for the day at hand, they are in the wilderness, or the mountaintop- I pray that they would above all know, they are loved. You love us, God. You love us at the parts of our hearts most broken, at the parts of our hearts most wounded. You love all that we are. I pray that tonight Your sweet, beautiful sons and daughters, might be able to finally see the love You have for them. I pray that they would come to know and see You've always been with them, You aren't ever leaving them. Come to their rescue, Father, like only You can. 

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.