A Postcard from Nicaragua...

Thanks to everyone who has been following along and sending so much love, encouragement and prayers my way. I have definitely felt the love!

"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen." -Ephesians 3:20-21

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Easter.

In terms of family traditions, Easter is top on my list (after Thanksgiving and Forth of July, of course). The five of us pack up for a long weekend to the beach, which includes long beach walks, surfing, homemade Chuck Salley dinner specials, sleeping in, dying Easter eggs, Hammock Shops trips, waking up without an alarm, cinnamon bread from a local bakery... the list goes on and on.

Sunday morning would always come along with our pink, green and blue Easter baskets filled with goodies and Easter candy for breakfast quickly became the norm (once my parents decided to choose their battles and if our teeth rotted out? Well, it was our own darn fault). We'd head to church in Georgetown, SC, where my mom's parents were members. There we would meet up with my mom's entire side of the family (it's grown quite a bit over the years!) - making sure to get there early enough to save at least three to four rows worth of pew seating for the entire family to sit together. We have a slew of hilariously awkward inside jokes that have come that pew section: That one overly ambitious, Southern down-to-her-roots woman in her Easter's best asking a bunch of wide-eyed, sugar-high kids, "Where the egg at?!" in the children's lesson. There was also that time my younger (at the time maybe 7 years old) brother dropped his communion bread in the wine (grape juice) cup while dipping, which led to a bunch of (grown adult) giggling Salleys, Juks, Stewarts, Draffins and Avants during the entire communion service. When the service ended, there is the not to be missed, family photo shoot in front of the flowered cross in front of the church. (And let me tell you, it is a beautiful cross.) Due to the extremely large amount of people in our family, staying true to our charm, our crew is always - let me repeat, ALWAYS - the last the leave. Then all hundred of us (so it seemed) jump in to our cars and head back up the beach to eat our Sunday lunch. And it is always - let me repeat, ALWAYS - delicious.

These times. These memories. These are the ones I miss the most when I am here and not there. These are the ones I cherish now more then I ever thought I would.

This Easter looked unlike any other Easter I have had. It included church and good food, yes - but it also included a pool party, hanging out with some Latina girls who are in the process of getting adopted, lots of laughing with new friends and plenty of pizza. I remember looking around with these friends, after about four to five hours of sitting poolside, smiling and thinking, "This is such a bizarre Easter."

And as much as I miss my usual Easter tradition with my family, I look forward to seeing what new bizarre holiday traditions will come out of this time here in Nicaragua. So here's to you, Easter - and here's to remembering the sweetness of family traditions and to recognizing the bittersweetness of change.

25.

It's funny to me how popular the "list" blog posts are: 5 Reasons To Drink Coffee, 10 Ways To Get Better Hair, 40 Ways You Know You Are From South Carolina (a personal favorite of mine).

Being that today I am celebrating being alive for 25 long years and keeping with my theme from last year's birthday post ("24 Ways I Can Tell I Have Turned 24"), I have decided to yes, make another list for this years quarter of a century birthday celebration.

I have a list that I keep in a little gray notebook. "grace moments" it reads. It is a list of grace. All the ways I see God's grace in the everyday, seemingly ordinary moments. It is always so sweet to look back and see the different ways I saw Jesus in a year. So this year, I am going to share twenty-five of my favorite grace gifts from the past year. 24, you were sweet to me!

1. learning the secret to Spanish pronunciation
2. running in the rain
3. comfy pajama pants
3. three dollar movie nights (with caramel popcorn) in Costa Rica
4. laughing and smiling so much it hurts
5. friends who speak truth
6. sleeping in a sweatshirt
7. giggling with Olga
8. group texts with my parents
9. getting caught in the rain with no umbrella
10. red toenails
11. Instagram filters
12. Oswald (Costa Rican brother) hiding in my closet
13. sunlight spilling onto my bed in the morning
14. tears
15. the sound of my pen as a write
16. early morning sunrises
17. bad Spanish days to remind me I can't do this alone
18. cracks in glass that reflect the sunlight
19. cinnamon in coffee
20. snowflakes on airplane window
21. all of my stuff in one place for the first time in two months
22. Dad's homemade chicken pizza
23. realizing I had forgotten to count grace gifts and seeing how much a difference it made
24. eating sno-cones with high school girls
25. the sound of pouring that first cup of coffee in the morning

The graces keep coming and I hope I never stop seeing them.

Here's to you 25...I have a good feeling ya!

surrender?

Today is one of those days. One of those days where as much as I want to believe it, no amount of black coffee will suffice.

I came to realize something this morning: I desperately crave a schedule. A schedule that doesn't change or get rearranged last minute. Something solidified. A week where I don't have to mark my pen through previously planned thing in order to move it to another day or add something else in. As the weeks go on, my planner begins to look more and more like a fifth graders homework, where they just can't seem to find the right answer.

I can feel myself growing more and more desperate for stability but the further I grasp for it, the faster it disappears.

And isn't that always the way it works in life? We chase after these things we think will complete us, satisfy us, make us happy...but the longer we chase them, the harder they are to catch.

Stability. Does such a thing even exist in this new life abroad I am stumbling through? I can not be sure. But yet I shamelessly attempt to obtain it, no matter the cost.

But this morning, it was ripped out from under me like a rug and I am left sitting on the ground, looking around for someone to blame. Until I realized that someone to blame was me. Because more then stability, I want control. (There's always a root issue, isn't there?) I want to control this life of mine to turn out the way I see fit. Is there anyone out there that can relate to this or am I the only one attempting to tame my own life?

Surrender to Me, I hear Him whisper to the depths of my soul.

Surrender sounds nice but it is actually terrifying. So I fight it - everyday - running to stability instead of the Holder of my heart. Grasping for control instead of the Soother of my soul. Seeking my schedule instead of the Author of my faith.

And instead of bringing the peace and joy I expect, I am left disappointed, frustrated and confused.

I wonder how many days of disappointment, frustration and confusion it will take before true surrender really happens? I'll have to keep you posted...