#coleaderlove

One of the difficulties of living in Oregon, 2500 miles from Ohio, is that life is different here. Obvious statement, but let me explain. Life, not only in Oregon, but on property staff at a uniquely located property makes life very different than the one I was experiencing a mere 14 months ago. And despite visits from my family, which even included time in the kitchen, people don't fully understand life in the canyon. I can apologize for disappearing for the month of March, but until someone experiences the unending chaos that is march madness, it's inexplicable. And summer will soon be here; another inexplicable phenomenon that will make me disappear for months and everyone will graciously pretend to understand.

But what makes my heart happy, is that very soon I will have one of my best friends here at the Ranch. Not visiting and getting a three day snapshot of life, but moving here for four months. Experiencing the craziness of summer alongside me in the kitchen. And aside from the joy that will come with someone truly knowing my life, I'm just grateful to spend time with my friend. I feel as if we've been friends for so long, that I honestly couldn't tell you when he was placed. I could do the math based on his college years, but when I think of Finneytown and my time there, it goes hand in hand with Sean. Loving me. Encouraging me. Challenging me. Laughing at/with me. Getting off topic with me. Crying with me. Chasing after Christ and FT kids with me. I cannot imagine being in the trenches without him. And so it only makes sense that I would recruit him, in the same way a dear friend of mine did, to come be my seasonal hire. Because there's no one else I'd rather step into this summer with!

Here's to a summer of water slides and kitchen chaos with one of my best friends!!

New Definitions of Home and Family

I wrote three lengthy paragraphs; flowery and verbose. And realized I still hadn't gotten to the important part. So here's the short, concise version.

My family, both biological and not, are wonderful because they speak life and truth into me. They remind me who I am in Christ and what that means for my life. As y'all know, I moved away from what I conventionally have thought of as my family and my home.  And so The Lord has just given me an additional one out here. And I could (and did) rave about them with words unending, but what I really want to say is on just one of them.

I help with our year long intern program out here. The other night,  we did a bit of a twist on the traditional communion. The elements were in the center of the room. As I played music and we sat, the opportunity was open  to give communion and pray  with anyone else; whomever the spirit led you to. As I was the background music, I figured I wouldn't get to be too involved. And then Craig approached. (Or craigory as I love to call him). Much like Kolia, he is a proponent of direct, unbroken eye contact. So he made me look him in the eye as he spoke words of life to me. Words my aching heart hadn't even been able to utter that it needed. Tears slipped out down my cheeks and he prayed for me. It was absolutely wonderful. Then, in a purely sneaky Jesus moment, the opportunity arose again at all camp worship last night. I dunked my bread, ready to walk across the room to my roommate and someone beat me to it. So I sat, waiting. Eventually I thought oh gosh I'll find someone else, and I found myself walking to Craig. I sat, excited to speak back those same words of life.  I got three words out before my eyes erupted with tears. How could I ever repay or return the words he had spoken, the healing and hope he had brought? So instead I just told him of my appreciation and my desire to be around those words of life more. At the end, both affirmed and tear stained, we embraced. This man. I can't speak highly enough of him. He, as well as his entire family, have burrowed their way into my heart. I am blown away whenever he tells me who I am. She seems like a far off goal and yet he speaks of her with such certainty. That's who I am and who he sees me to be.

All in all, the gist is find family. Wherever you are, whatever that looks like. Find people that speak words of truth to you. That see in you what Jesus sees in you. And they tell you! It can be exhausting or costly or, crap, it can even be both. But I'd bet my life savings you'd never look back and say it wasn't worth it.

A permanent home

The eight months are over.  I fly out on Friday.  And then, ten short days later, I will fly back home.   Home to my house, my roommate, and my dog.  Home to my friends and makeshift family.  Home, to Oregon.  Because while my heart will always love and long for Cincinnati and all that comes with it, it has found a peaceful home here in the canyon.  And one of my most persistent requests for the Lord these past few years has been permanence.  A place to call home, to plant roots.  And while in all those years, I would never have imagined that home, and those roots, to be in Oregon, it seems I've found a new love.  

Because despite being far from my sister, I live with a girl who invests and cares for my heart in a very familiar fashion.  Who laughs at my jokes and cares even less about the youtube videos I show her. My parents may live 2500 miles away, but I have makeshift parents who go with me to get new tires, and who bake with me to learn my frosting tips.  I have a group of friends that makes me smile until my face hurts.  I have a tv to watch every Bengals game on.  I have a dog who loves waking me by kissing my face.  And while it's far from home, it is home.  It seems natural when I'm on my one hour drive to the grocery.  It's perfectly normal to have a small child wander into my kitchen during lunch because she saw me walk into the house and wanted to say hi.  I bring my own soda, knowing there will be endless HOT popcorn on movie nights.  

It's kind of like coming home from summer staff or work crew, or even just a week of camp.  I can write all the wonderful language I want to write, but it's impossible to describe what the ranch is like.  What day to day life out here, in our tiny community in the middle of our tens of thousands of acres, is like.  But hey, it's home now, so I'll just encourage you to come visit.  Come experience for yourself God's country.  Because that picture isn't from a photogenic morning.  It's just another morning at the Ranch. So book your tickets, use your vacation days, and come on out to my home in the Pacific Northwest.

His relentless pursuit

In the midst of life, I easily become overwhelmed. I am sometimes too short sighted to notice what The Lord places in front of me to enjoy. Tonight, however, I had the opportunity to go over to Creekside (our wyldlife camp) and watch work crew presentation. They came out on stage, one by one, and revealed their cardboard testimony. For those of you unfamiliar with cardboard testimonies, you write life before Christ on one side and life with him on the other. For example, had I been on work crew mine might have read "bound by pride and self righteousness" (flip cardboard) "freed to give and receive grace".
While it will come as no surprise to you, I sat with silent rollers plummeting down my face. They all came out stone faced while revealing their brokenness. And in a moment of pure joy, and obviously straight up Jesus, they held before a club room of middle schoolers the truth of a new creation. How everyone doesn't weep, I'm still unsure. Half way through, with a wet neck line, I recognized what a privilege it is to sit amongst that crowd and hear about lives changed by Christ. In that moment, all I could pray was may this never grow old and may I never sit here with dry eyes.
Crying is something I do a lot of, but its a recent development. It's only been this "bad" since college. Something happened all those year ago that changed my heart. I'm sure it has something to do with The Lord shaping my heart. And while I sometimes say that jokingly to excuse my crying, I do think it is truth. My heart aches, and my eyes need diapers, when I see things that The Lord loves. I watch a work crew kid share to what depths they were pursued. I watch a summer staff dude change before my eyes over his two months in the IK. I listen to an A team wife talk about pursuing and adopting their daughter. Oh that we would celebrate alongside The Lord. How I hope his relentless pursuit of hearts never grows old to me. For I would much rather a tear stained face and a wet neckline as I join the choir of angels rejoicing salvation found.

Lean on me

In the middle of today, I curled up on the office floor searching for a Via packet. A friend came in to find me there, unbeknownst to her, on the verge of tears. "I just need this Via to make the day all better." To which the wisest 19 year old I know replied, "this is like what Nate was talking about on the retreat. That we can't make our day better with a song or a break or a sassy treat. We have to look to The Lord." I, of course, just felt bad then and staggered away with my Via.

As I stood at the ice machine, making my iced coffee, I let her words sink in. And I realized this was a repeat of week one as a work crew boss. If I try to do it on my own, not only will I fail, but I'll go down in flames (and tears). So instead, I have to look to The Lord. Let him get me through the long days. He knows the words to say to work crew kids. He has the strength to stand for 12 hours in a hot kitchen. He has the wisdom to lead the floor. I don't. At least not on my own.

And lo and behold, the night ended well. Feeling joyful and well cared for. Because when we ask him to show up, he does.

Wise advice for the ladies

I have spent the spring catching up with the friend in the picture. (this picture will always be A summary of our friendship) This led to sharing about a boy, no need to get curious, that's not the important part. The important part was her response. Her wise, loving, Christ focused response. I found myself going back to the email so often that I eventually took a picture so I could get there more rapidly. As I read her words again tonight, I decided to share her wisdom. If its been so good to me, perhaps your heart could hear it too…?

Be yourself. Wholely and marvelously you. No smokes and mirrors. Not thinking one thing, but believing another. Who will come and meet you in that place will be someone who see's that whole of you, and will chase your attention, and pursue your affection... and he will seek God's hand and favor for the opportunity to love you the way a man is supposed too. Don't get lost in the coolness. Own your journey, surrender your heart... and be, yourself. A woman of God whose heart has already been won, captured, forgiven, restored, and captivated. 

I wanna be like mike

A number of times this past week, my brother (in-law) has come to mind. I've written this to him, but like any good little sister, I tend to brag about this kid a lot. For those of you that might be coming to the party a little late, Mike basically joined our family when I was in eighth grade; at least that's when he started dating my sister. Which is why when I refer to him, I say brother; because there's nothing the legality of his marriage to my sister gave me that I didn't already have. 

Today, while skimming through Instagram, a comment on a photo quoted the ever annoying song from the Disney ride "carousel of progress". As you know, our family visits Disney quite often and on one such trip, myself and the Gordons found ourselves trapped in said ride. The song kept playing but the seats never moved. It was a running joke the rest of the trip, and subsequently any time we end up in tomorrowland. Why does any of that matter? It's one of this times that I can look at and know that mike isn't just a guy I'm stuck seeing for the rest of my life because he married my sister. This is a guy that I laugh with, I share jokes with; he's my friend. On our vacation last summer, he and I spent some time jumping waves out in the ocean while the rest of the family sunbathed. He brought me to tears as he shared how he saw Christ in me and how faithful I was. Because he's the kind of guy who's opinion matters. Because those aren't words he throws around lightly. Because when a friend speaks life into you, you take notice. 

Earlier this week, I read the article in "Relationships", Young Life's magazine, about Aaron Rogers. I read with tear filled eyes (catch the pattern yet?) as he talked about his leader and his leader talked about him. For those that don't know, Mike is the athletic trainer at an all boys high school in Cincinnati. Professionally, he's amazing. He speaks at seminars, has college interns, has a side gig with a professional sporting team. And yet, I bet if you asked him, he would say the best part of what he does is the relationships he gets the opportunity to build with high school guys. Now some of these kids are super weird, and some go on to play in the NFL (he's got two before tonight's draft). And I know that mike loves them all (even when it makes him pull his hair out). I don't actually know any of the guys personally (because if we are honest, that would be weird), but the words Aaron spoke in that article about how well loved he was; those words were familiar. You see, I was friends with a group of younger guys in high school that were so well loved and challenged by their leader. His name, Mike Gordon. They still crowd into his living room every so often to catch up with him, all these years later. 

As I was thinking about our vacation last summer, I couldn't help but be reminded of the joy I get watching him love my sister well. Most of you probably know, but due to her MS, Sara doesn't have the best eye sight. When we were on the beach for vacation, or laying poolside, if you had looked over, you'd have found mike reading. Aloud. To his wife. Myself, my mom, and the Gordons were playing in the ocean last summer and little schools of bright silver fish would swirl around us. They were too small and too quick and Sara couldn't ever see them. So the next school that swam by, Mike "herded" with his hands; slapping the water to influence their direction. He would move around Sara so that the fish would swim all around her, so that she could share in this beautiful sight.  Soon we all became fish herders; we probably looked like fools, but loving fools for sure. 

I know I'm beyond blessed because of this man. He's the second coolest man I know (after pops of course). So if this seemed a bit gooshy or off topic, I challenge you to spend time with this dude and not want to brag about him. He never would, despite all that he could brag about; that's just not the Mike I know. Instead, he will spend the time that most would spend boosting themselves up, boosting you up. Whenever I FaceTime with Sara, he always pops into the picture at the end. To say hey, to tell funny stories, and to ask what he can be praying for. Because he's the best big brother a girl could ever ask for. And on top if that, the best husband a girl could wish for her sister. 

 

Grace

We are a broken, fallen people. I can lump us together because I know that's just the state of the world. I can verify that quite readily about myself. This week was rough. Not quite sure why; I could list things but they would just feel like excuses. I was grumpy and tired and insecure. Lets just wrap it up as a tough few days. But luckily, The Lord is still molding me to look like his son, so this week he  pushed discipline. As in, disciplines I could learn to be focused on him.

There were great moments of success. When I'd close the door to the laundry room and listen to BT talk about the great results from beans and rice week. In that moment, I could still the anxious thoughts. I didn't hear the planner inside my head ticking. It was just the word of The Lord being preached and his mission being applauded. When I was counting (every single knife) for inventory, and my mind started to wonder and distract me, I'd listen to last Wednesday or worship music and I could just sit at his feet.

Now, in this same week, there was failure. Times when I was so wrapped up in frustration or anxiety that Christ was far from my thoughts. Instead I would fold towels or count spoons while fuming over some huge issue (which was really nothing). My god, however, is full of grace. And one of the things I love most is how quiet and gentle his grace is with me. Ill be in the midst of too many thoughts and its as if he just whispers, "it's my turn now. Let that all go". And he quietly holds out his hands; patiently waiting for me to let go and hand it all over. Because whether I am a success or a failure at the discipline of keeping my focus on him, he is gracious. Because that's what grace does. No matter how often or how deeply I fail. It's the unfair nature of grace that continues to astound and humble me. He should've stopped giving me grace a long time ago. I've been rebellious for far too long. And yet each time, as my heart wars over trivial matters, he waits. Patiently. Hoping I'll accept the grace he so longs to give me.

What an amazing God we serve.

Encouragement

(Just incase you don't believe me that this place is obscenely gorgeous and an absolute picture of heaven, check out this picture from a hike I took last week.  And now back to the post you were hoping to read.)

I've been emailing with one of my best friends this past week and she wrote the following; I hope it encourages you as much as it did/does for me.

Joel 2:3  Before them fire devours, behind them a flame blazes. Before them the land is like the garden of Eden, behind them, a desert waste.

It just sparked my thinking about Eden and the desert. We're in the desert now, but look what God has to offer us -- the garden of Eden! Only before God can we receive blessings and look what he has to give! Otherwise, you only get sand.  Good things are to come through the Lord. The past is worthless.

I think Heaven is a lot like the Garden of Eden. A place of beauty, peace, fragrance and utter joy with being in perfect relationship with the Lord. Like your mountains, I think we get glimpses of the garden, which are glimpses of heaven.  And how it makes us long for the day when we reach it.

She's a wise cookie, that one.  I just love the thought of what good he wants for us.  And while life will not be perfect (if these past few years taught me nothing else) but it will daily give us opportunities to choose the Lord.  When we could get swept up in the world's version of success, we can choose to sit in his approval.  When the world taunts us with images of what we should look like, we have the option of choosing to believe what he says about us; that we were knit together in our mothers' wombs.

Life in this broken world will continually try to make us focus on the desert waste.  But even in the midsts of this literal desert that is Central Oregon, gosh if he doesn't heap on blessings and show us glimpses of the garden.  When we find ourselves at his feet, we will also find peace.  While the initial decision and move was hard and at times heartbreaking, being here has proven the Lord's faithfulness.  I was listening to the last week of the "follow the leader" series at Crossroads and BT talked about the idea of following.  That it often requires us to be mobile and follow where ever he leads.  I stood in the kitchen, cookie scoop in hand, with tears rolling down my face.  He called me to be obedient.  His call took me away from my family, a city I love, my friends; heck it took me 2500 miles across the country. But obedience brings peace.  Maybe not ease (although this is creepily comfortable and home-like already), but peace beyond anything I could understand or rationalize away.  Because my God, he loves faithfulness and obedience.  And I can only hope he's a little bit proud of this timid traveler.

Further up and further in

I woke up in town today, to a gorgeous view of snow capped mountains. If you know me well, you know that one of my love languages is mountains. (That one was left out of the book, but its totally legit) I've been sitting here reading and writing for about an hour and I can't get over the sight. You'd think living in this part of the country would help that. Instead, it's just like God shouts I LOVE YOU every morning, then again when I walk out to lunch, after work, as I go to bed… The mountains are always there. It made me think of my favorite narnia quote, which I've probably put on here before, but its good so read it again and love it!

"I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this."

I know this is about heaven and not Oregon. But looking at Oregon makes me super excited for heaven. If these mountains render me speechless, I can only imagine what's in store!

Community

I joked to a few friends before leaving cincinnati, that this was my big "going away to college" life experience.  We've all seen the coming of age stories, or experienced them ourselves, where we grow up, move out, get random roommates, and have to make all new friends.  Some of you experienced that first hand.  I went not even a full hour away, roomed with one of my best friends, and didn't really do all that well in making new friends.  I made a few.  But I also learned how, at my core, I am an introvert and not very good at making social plans, which are often necessary for friendships.
Then I made the "big move" to Virginia after college; to work with some of my closest friends and live with my best friend.  Not exactly a stretching experience, community wise.  In fact, that was one of the hardest parts about leaving Virginia.  I had such built-in community that I knew it could never be replicated.  It was like a cruise ship where there's something every night, you merely need to decide if you will be in attendance.
Then back to Cincinnati, where I lived with and around my best friends and family.  Community was no Virginia, but it was wonderful and handed to me on a silver platter. (known as a small group I was annexed into and WCC leadership)  So when I first thought about coming out to Oregon, I was hesitant.  I can be a bit awkward and shy.  Some of you are confused and would say no no, not the case.  Others are glad that I am aware because they thought eventually they would have to have a conversation with me.
And so, three weeks ago, I was plopped into a built-in community of sorts.  You see, incase you didn't know, all of staff lives on property.  We all live in a little community of condos.  So, if you want to go to dinner, chances are it's just a few condos down.  And yet, when my roommate (aka social coordinator) was out of town for two days, I stayed in.  I haven't mastered the art of reaching out.  And if we're being honest, I'm completely okay with my own company, but I know that eight months is a long time, and community is a must.  It's not that I'm afraid or nervous, but that I'm perfectly content on my own.  But I know that with community comes growth.  We were designed to walk this together; as Chuck said this past sunday, as a tribe.
My big life adventure is definitely pushing me to grow, and ultimately that's exciting.  While it isn't always comfortable, I know that it is best.  Because Jesus takes us to places of new growth for our good, not for our comfort.  So be proud, any second now, the lady interns will be stopping by for a good 'ole fashioned ladies night.  And all that said, I give you free reign to call me out and challenge me.  Ask me if I've been faithful to stepping out of my comfort zone, and even out of what I feel like I need, because that's the joy of community with you.  You'll push me to grow, even if you are one of the many that finds themselves 2,500 miles away.

Antelope, Oregon

Incase you haven't heard, I moved to Oregon.  Two weeks ago today, I arrived at Washington Family Ranch.  My mom left the next day and I hit the ground running.  (Literally. I started work the next day.)  Life here at the ranch is wonderful.  I am overwhelmed by how wonderful, actually.  One might think the transition across the country, especially for a home body like me, would take some more time. But I know that the Lord has given me exactly what I've been asking for, and there is peace in that.

You see, the past four and a half years have been heartbreakingly brutal at times; the rest of the time, just plain brutal.  There was little stability outside of God and family.  Jobs, homes; these were fairly fluid and transient through this time.  So I waited, with frustration most of the time, for God to step in and make his plans clear.  There's no way you've spent any time on this blog...ever.. and not noticed that I have been asking and begging for him to shout out plans for our adventure.  He never did.  Even these plans for Oregon.  It's as if I was playing a marco/polo game without knowing it.  I would try to move one way, and his voice came from somewhere else.  So I'd do something else, and his voice came from somewhere else.  When I was almost positive I had finally gotten it right, his voice came from somewhere else.  And all signs pointed to Oregon.

So I packed my bags, loaded my stuff (and my mom) in the car, and drove across these great states to find the adventure and peace I had begged the Lord for for so many years.  I was terrified with his answer; don't get me wrong.  I wasn't running full speed here.  There was definitely a fair share of feet dragging.  I have wonderful friends that live in Cincinnati.  When I say wonderful, I am not putting that mildly.  And they came out of the woodwork to go over the top in my last month there.  And my family.  Well, if you know me at all, you know my heart for those four people. (not to mention the like 20 others that all resided within almost 20 minutes of me.) Making the move was not a comfortable decision, but gosh was it easy.

Because I don't pray for open doors.  Do you know how many could open at once?  And how ambiguous that would be? We are a family of indecisive people, so I have always craved decisiveness.  I wanted the Lord to make the decision and be very clear with what he wants.  So I pray for closed doors.  What he doesn't want for me, cut off the option.  Fill the posting with someone else, marry him off to another girl, do what you will, but close the door if it's not your will.  That's what I ask.  And while it is a painful undertaking, because he is more than willing to answer our prayers, it is so good when something is left open.  When my "last resort" is available.  When that same "last resort" calls with a job offer.  He was decisive.  And he had heard my cry for adventure, for joy in my job, for a sense of mission, for community, for grandeur.

If you're still with me, let me leave you with this: The Lord is faithful.  When I look at the things that I wanted, the doors that closed, I am grateful.  Because I was looking for satisfaction and identity in those things.  He knew all too well how miserable they would make me.  But in the midst of the sludge that was these past four and a half years, all I could seem to pray for was him to make himself known.  And when you are broken for an extended period of time, he is all there is.  He is the only place to find satisfaction, literally.  He is the only source of identity, truly.  There are no facades to hide behind in brokenness.  And he wept with me in that brokenness.  But he also wept while knowing how that brokenness would change me.  How it would allow him to mold and shape me differently so that I will stop chasing the things that don't matter.  So that I'm not chasing adventure for adventure's sake, but because life with the Lord is adventure.  Whether that's at the ranch or in a city.  So that I'm not chasing satisfaction in a job, but in him.  And being with him and serving him is satisfying.  Not because people like my cooking (although I am sinful and my pride is wounded when they don't) but because I know that the gospel is preached through that kitchen.

All that to say, Oregon is good.  The Lord is good.  Lean in to him.  He does not guarantee us safety or comfort, but dangit, he is good. Since I've got no good closer for you, I'll let CS Lewis do it with one of my favorite lines from Narnia.

"Safe?" Said Mr. Beaver, "Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe.  But he's good.  He's the King, I tell you."


And just incase you're so inclined:
Amanda Stegman
1 Muddy Road
Antelope, Oregon 97001

what a wonderful problem

I am moving across the country in about a week.  It's a scary adventure that I am super pumped for.  In the midst of packing up most of my life and driving to the great Northwest, I have been cramming in time with friends and family.  It has been humbling to realize how blessed I am in those categories of life.  You see, if I wasn't, this move would be easy.  Instead, I stand with groups of people who have shared life with me, who know my heart, who laugh at my odd sense of humor.  I stand with them and have to say goodbye.  To my team, my girls, my area, my family, my work; all of these people make up my best friends.  What a blessing it is to have such great friends that I am run ragged trying to fit in dinners and coffee and laughs and stories.  What a wonderful problem to have.  Because if these people weren't in my life, leaving Ohio would be easy.  But some of the best people I know live right here in Cincinnati, and so come Monday, I'll be driving through tears I'm sure.

Praying for the struggle

Sometimes, I feel just like that bear.  Like at the end of the day I have slammed full force into a wall.  That is my exact face when crawling into bed at night; I wouldn't make it another step if I tried.  Life has become a battle between me and the hours in the day.

I have found myself repeatedly in the position lately, of apologizing for, or explaining away my hardships.  When I talk life with friends, they apologize or wish they could do more.  I find myself saying, again and again, "it's okay. that's life."  And while that statement is very true (with life inevitably comes struggle), it has very little hope.  It isn't a statement that says I believe that my hope outweighs my current circumstances, because my hope is in the one true Lord.  Because he has already endured and overcome everything I could even imagine going through.

Recently, with my team, we've been spending time in the word together during team meetings.  I cannot think of anything more worthy of our time.  In the midst of that, I feel like we've spent some time talking about struggling.  (as mentioned before, it's a given in this life)  And we've talked about the promise that our struggles refine us, that they teach us more about God and his character.  I believe that at a ten.  I've watched it happen and I've even gotten glimpses of it in my own life.  But we have to submit ourselves under him in order for him to step out.  I have to be looking for him; crying for him even, in the midst of my struggles.  Then, regardless of whether he eases that particular struggle, he makes himself known.

Sadly, I think I have discovered a large character flaw within myself during this discovery.  If I had to choose between more of him and an easy life, I might choose the easy way out. (literally)  That realization has surprised me.  I wouldn't have thought myself to choose such a lame thing over the God of the Universe.  And yet, during rough days, when crap continues day in and day out, I ask for relief, not for a Savior.  So this week, I'm going to challenge myself to ask him to be my relief; not an absence of struggle, but a Savior to walk alongside me.  And since that leads to knowing him more, I'm going to attempt to pray for struggles to come.  Hit me with your best shot.  (never have I uttered a more terrifying phrase)

Gratitude

This was in my drafts because I started it long ago and never finished it. (slightly ironic if you read it, but if I remember correctly my computer died.)  It's extra special to me now, as I looked over the pictures I had chosen and had yet to write about, because Bertie is one of them.  She was and will always be a treasure.  Enjoy...


The new rooms and I are working on holding each other accountable to spending time with Jesus. So when I tried to wimp out on hang out time because I'm a grandma and want to go to bed, she called me on it.  So my "assignment" tonight it to write things that I am thankful for.  She told me three, but I like to think I can come up with more than that, so here are four.

My girls

I am beyond amazed every time I get to share the gospel with these girls.  I love it because they are at an age where they are so vulnerable and so real.  They are willing to open up their lives and share the good, the bad, and the ugly.  I have learned so much about God and his heart for us by spending time with these girls.  They make me laugh and they make me cry.  I laugh with them and I weep for them.  I am so thankful that the Lord allows me to be a part of ministry at Finneytown.

Cat Wade

When I was a pesky, pious, youth group kid she spent time with me.  She challenged me to better and to more.  She showed me what it looked like for a woman to love the Lord enough to give up her life.  If there is anything good in me as a leader, it is because I followed Cat Wade, following Christ.  And I continue to get to call her my friend.

Grams (Bertie)

I'm not sure I can get much down right now, because I have already started crying, but this woman is amazing.  She taught me how to enjoy life, how to spend intentional time with people, how to laugh, how to love unconditionally and relentlessly, how to be fair.. I could go on for pages.  For those of you that don't know, my grams passed away about two weeks ago.  She had been fighting cancer since the spring and we all got to spend lots of time with her this summer; it was wonderfully bittersweet.  My aunt Amy and I got to share a special moment with her this May in the hospital.  Everyone had just left and the three of us sat there.  She summed up Paul's thoughts when she said she was torn.  She so wanted to stay and be with all of us (there are 25 between kids/grandkids) but "I just want to be with Cliff and my Jesus."  Of course tears flowed at the moment, but in that moment I wanted that so badly for her.  The assurance when she said MY Jesus.  I think it's why I haven't cried much about it.  It would seem selfish to cry.  She finally gets to be back with the man I got to call my grandpa, AND she gets to hang out with Jesus.  Her Jesus.  That one word has resonated in my mind all summer.  Because I want to call him mine. (and I am thankful that he calls us his.)

Parentals

I'm spoiled rotton. My parents are amazing. And hilariously, this picture sums them up perfectly.  My mom is an extravert.  She'll make friends with anyone.  Super friendly.  And once you're friends, you're friends for life.  She would do anything for you.  Dad loves the background.  We jokingly call him a hermit.  But he loves to just support; to encourage.  They have taken so seriously the call on their lives to make disciples; because I know they are why Sara and I know and follow the Lord.  

Walking on Water

I had a realization a few weeks back that we all have opportunities in our lives to walk on water.  God presents us with opportunities that are, by all means, impossible.  Things that the world (and common sense) tells us shouldn't work.  Maybe you're making it by financially on an amount of money that seems too small, for example.  When we keep our eyes on Jesus, He makes the impossible, possible in our lives.  I use that as an example, because it's how he's been allowing me to walk on water since leaving teaching.  Life shouldn't work as easily as it has.  And i'm not saying I walk on water because he just deposits cash in my accounts. (although should he choose to go that route, I will not argue) Instead he puts things in my life that are atypical; roommates who want little to no rent. A sister who loves to take me out to eat. Random things in my life that I like to do on the side of my job that make good money (cupcakes, earrings, etc).  And as long as my eyes are on Him, it all works.

Sometimes though, the world is really loud.  If you remember from the account of Peter walking on water, you'll remember that he sinks at one point.  He gets distracted by the wind and the waves.  This wasn't a clear, pristine night.  I cannot imagine not being distracted.  The world was shouting that what he was doing wasn't possible.  He forgot who he was with.  Of course walking on water isn't possible for us; but it is for Jesus.  And because He's there, it is for Peter as well.  The world loves to shout at me that life shouldn't work.  That because my job isn't in my field of training or doesn't make enough or doesn't have enough hours, I'm doing something wrong.  Or I'm not good enough.  The world is good at being loud; it's good at distracting us and reminding us that what we're doing isn't possible.  That's when I freak out and apply for 10 jobs in one sitting; jobs that also have nothing to do with my training, or even things I enjoy.  I panic and forget that this isn't impossible for Him.

When we keep our eyes on Jesus, we get to walk on water.  I think that's worth getting out of the boat.

"What did you just say?"

One week ago, I wrote about a comment that my roommate had made.  After my saying that teaching at Finneytown was the last time I felt called, she remarked "and look how you have remained faithful to the call".  This was eye opening to me because at times I have felt that I have selfishly held on to ministry at Finneytown.  Last Monday, God rocked my socks off; as if to prove it has nothing to do with me, he just wants me to watch him work.

Let me catch you up to speed.  We are going to camp, for the most part, as an area.  We received about 98 spots for said camp trip to Lake Champion to split amongst the schools.  As of last week, there weren't a whole lot of spots left for the area; although Cat said she could probably pick up 20 more spots.  Going into the night, as well as throughout the night, we made sure kids realized that spots weren't just sitting around waiting to be filled.  

As the night started, about three deposits (from regulars) came in.  By the time club was over we had eight deposits.  We kept talking to kids and God kept showing up.  I had a girl approach me after club.  This girl is absolutely wonderful and sadly hasn't been able to come to camp last year or this year.  Her first comment was, "My mom asked me today if I wanted to go to camp."  What?  Turns out, she will be going to camp this year because Courtney went and picked up her deposit later that night.  Sean then left to head out to her boyfriend's house to pick up his deposit.  

In the midst of our team meeting, when Cat was finally free to chat, I got to be the one to talk to her about our numbers.  Timidly, I told her about our deposits.  "What did you just say?"  That was her response.  Because I had just told her that we collected 16 deposits that night.  Going into the night, we had 24 deposits.  We sat around the table at Courtney's parents' house laughing; because in moments like these you know that it's God doing all the work.  

I often delude myself into thinking that something I do or something I don't do could actually help/hurt ministry.  Now, don't get me wrong.  We definitely need to make ourselves available and the Lord will do crazy things through us.  In the same sense, our fallenness can truly damage ministry.  I've seen both sides of that coin.  But when amazing, jaw dropping, tear inducing things happen, I tend to lean towards blaming Jesus.  

16 kids don't turn in deposits in one night because the thought of spending a week with me makes them run home and grab a check.  Kids don't stand up at a say-so because I had a really good one on one time with them.  Lives don't change forever because I am great at leading biblestudies.  No, in moments like these we get to just sit back and marvel.  Our God is greater than anything we could imagine.  And so this week, I'm going to work on just sitting back in awe of him.  Because dangit if he's not awe inspiring.

Listening To The Call

On Friday night, at leadership, we had a night of prayer and worship.  I am a writer (if you haven't already picked up on that) and so my words come more freely and honestly through my pen than any other medium.  I tend to pray with written words.  I will scribble furiously as my mind speeds through thoughts.  In the midst of my breakdown previously in the week, I have been hearing the Lord. He has pushed me to rely on him regardless of my unbelief.

I came to a place of recognizing that much of my lack of trust stems from lack of depth in our relationship.  How can I trust him when I don't know him? How can I rely on him when I'm not intimately acquainted with his character?  Of course, we have a relationship.  But do I put the appropriate amount of time and effort into the relationship? Probably not.  This should be the relationship that matters most to me.  This should be the one that I spend the most time on, the most effort on. And yet, it's not.  And so I imagine that my grandiose call in life is being neglected by him.  That he has forgotten to step up and call me to my life of adventure.

There may never be a grandiose call on my life like what I want it to look like.  But regardless of my emotions, there is a call on my life.  It doesn't look like a house, a job, a man, or any particular ministry even.  The call on my life is to love and follow him; to abandon all else and be faithful to him and him alone.  Our relationship with Christ is compared to a marriage in the Bible.  How often do I go out on my groom; occupying my night with things that I deem more valuable?  All he asks is that I remain faithful. That I vow to love him above all others.  And in the midst of chasing after him with a single-minded purpose, he allows us to be a part of what he's doing.

The other night, as previously mentioned, I was talking with Anola about the radio silence.  I said that I had felt called to Finneytown all those years ago and then... radio silence.  Her comment was "and look how you have remained faithful to the call".  It isn't me that is faithful though.  He has remained faithful to me and has allowed me to continue to be a part of this ministry.

Even last year, when I thought I would be on the way out after leaving my teaching job, he has called me to remain faithful; to him and to finneytown.  And looking at the kids that I get to call my friends, that I get to do ministry alongside; looking at my teammates who are actively giving their lives away... I wouldn't have it any other way.  Who needs some international adventure when I get to watch kids cross over from death to life?  Not me.

Let Them Eat (cup)Cakes

Today was the first day that I did my cupcakes for a reason other than just pure enjoyment.  I had two dozen purchased for a wedding shower, and I took over one hundred cupcakes to a shower I was helping host.

Cupcakes are just fun; that's not news to anyone.  I always joked, when I was in Virginia unsure of what to do with my life, that I would open up a cupcake shop: Let Them Eat (cup)Cakes.  I would be able to put my baking skills to use and enjoy what I did.  Years later, who would've guessed it, I worked at a cupcake shop.  (albeit not my own cupcake shop)  I learned SO much in those short two months from the woman I worked with.  Before, my cupcakes would have been iced with a spatula and maybe some sprinkles.  Now, I hate serving unfilled cupcakes and I have to think through how I can frost each kind differently.

All that said, it's nice to feel accomplished at something again.  It's a different feeling to have so many people tell you how much they love what you've made and when can they order some for themselves.  A woman was at my shower who was at the shower earlier in the day for which my cupcakes had been purchased, and she came over to rave to me about how delicious they were.  Granted this probably comes off a bit egotistical, but for those of you that read on a regular basis, you might have seen a trend that this hasn't been commonplace for some time now.  So to feel like you're doing something well; and good enough that people want to pay you to do it more...well that's something to smile about.

Perhaps it's about time to let them eat cupcakes.

Shouts above the noise

My heart has been so heavy lately. With the burdens of what I want my life to look like verses what it does look like. I just never imagined as a child that it would be like this; and with a tear stained face yesterday, I related that to my mother. Unfortunately, in the midst of my state of "wretchedness", I haven't been able to really hear words of encouragement. They all seem fake and forced.

Late last night, upon arriving home from family dinner, my roommate asked me how my day was. I proceeded to break down into a big ugly cry. We talked about life and what it looks like. I told her how I feel like since being called to Finneytown all those years ago, it has been radio silence. She looked at me and said, "and yet you remained faithful to his call". He's good at humbling me by placing people in my life that will consistently, firmly remind me of his truth.

 So we prayed together; asking that I would actually believe all the promises he has made me. Because one of my biggest struggles recently has been that while he is affirming his truths, the affirmations of the lies are louder. While Anola's graciousness as a roommate reminds me that he provides, working in a mall often makes me feel as if I'm not worth much.

 After many tears and prayers, I went off to my room to go to sleep. Upon climbing into bed, I received a text message from my wonderful coleader Sean. The text preview merely read "The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs". He continued writing out isaiah 58:11, but when that appeared on my screen, more ugly tears arrived. Then a quick, out-of-the-blue affirmation from a coworker today. And one of my new favorite friends offered up her place once the rooms gets married.

 It is amazing how sneaky Jesus is. Yesterday, with big ugly tears I said he was silent. I accused him of not speaking loudly enough over the lies. And in 24 hours, he shouted. Numerous times. I will provide. You are worth it to me. You are beautiful. I will meet your needs. I am guiding you; be patient.