grow.

The first thing I saw was a card, Trader Joe's Cookie Butter and the cutest little pot of purple flowers. They sat neatly together on the back porch like an old friend welcoming me home. My heart was filled with joy by this sweet friend of mine, who truly knows me and my love for little gifts. The flowers stayed on the back porch during my entire ten day fundraising stint to South Carolina. Each time I sat out there, { which was fairly often } I was reminded of this kindness.

Over the ten days, I was on this back porch almost every morning and every evening. I started my day there sitting in the rocking chairs: reading, writing, drinking coffee, soaking it all in. I ended my day there eating Chuck Salley home-cooked meals, sipping wine while talking and laughing with my parents. The perfect combination of an incredible view, amazing weather and loving company brought a certain sweetness to my soul.

But the flowers. This sweet little pot of flowers taught me something. You see, at the start of each day I noticed something very basic that I had forgotten about flowers: they need the sun to survive. So these flowers would quite literally grow towards the sun. They grew towards the light. Their flimsy stems would bend, their whimsical petals open wide - all to be able to drink in the sun.

They knew what they needed and they fought for it, these brave, strong little flowers. Even when I turned the pot around so that the other side could receive its life source, the steams and leaves and petals would seek the sun. Their fight for sunlight was constant, perhaps grueling. But they never gave up.

These flowers, in their own funny little way, taught me courage. They taught me strength. That even when my world gets turned around and it seems I am facing some darkness, confusion, uncertainty, anxiety - to remember:

"Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." - Joshua 1:9

Grow towards the Light, oh my soul. 

a year in review.

Last Thursday, we had our last Young Life club of the school year. It's one of my favorites because the theme is "Young Life Oscars" and everyone comes dressed to the nines. There were high heels, ties, red lipstick, jackets...and a cow onsie. With a special shout out to our amazing high school seniors who have been involved with Young Life, it was a really great time to celebrate the end of another amazing year! We wrapped up the night with a video of a YL "year in review". I've included some pictures from the night and the video here...enjoy!

anchor.

Over a sandwich and salad at Quiznos, she told me about ships. We had escaped the Nicaraguan heat yet again in the cool, air conditioned room but hot tears still slipped down my cheeks. She held my arm as I focused on breathing - in and out, in and out - while forcing myself to listen to the words of truth she was speaking over me.

And she told me about these ships - these huge, grand things that travel over many miles to carry things, people, baggage. But when they come to a harbor, their bottoms are too wide, their motors sit too deep to enter. So they send a group of sailors, brave and strong, in a smaller boat...with the anchor. This group carries the anchor into the harbor and drops it there in shallow, calmer waters.

And there it remains, this hunk of metal, burying itself into the sand.

While the ship is out in the deep, murky water, the anchor is sunk deep in the safety of the harbor. And when the storm comes - and it will come, she tells me with kind, wide eyes - the ship may be tossed to and fro in the turbulent, heavy, crashing waves of the storm...but the anchor remains. No matter what, the ship is still anchored to the harbor. It may feel rocky and scary and confusing out there but the anchor firmly sits, holding the boat close to safety.

"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure." As she reads the words out loud, something changes within me. A sliver of light seems to shines through and a peace which surpasses all understanding washes over me as I hear about this anchor of hope.

Our souls are anchored to Him. Ella, your soul is anchored to His heart. The hope this Hebrews verse speaks of comes from a covenant God who sees His people and whose constant, unfailing love never falters. He is the safe harbor. He is the anchor of the soul. He is this hope.

I write it there, in that dear, worn book of mine, to always remember: My soul is anchored to His heart. And it is a good Heart.

when dreaming hurts.

I honestly don't know how dreamers do it. Those self proclaimed dreamers who live always for the moments just out of their grasp. Those dreamers who allow their minds to imagine the unimaginable, their hearts to love the unloveable, their souls to long for the impossible. Those dreamers whose imaginations knows no borders, whose hearts see no risk too big, whose souls claim no hope too much. Those dreamers who dream big, love hard, feel deeply, take risks, seek ambitions, make changes, dare greatly.

I admire them.

But what happens when the dreaming hurts? When the disappointment comes, when the heart breaks, when the dream disappears? What happens when suddenly life pulls your dream rug out from underneath you and you are left bruised and confused from the fall?

All dreamers must know this feeling. Life is too unpredictable, too fragile, too harsh - no one can avoid that breath knocked out of you, not sure how you'll make it through the day kind of feeling.

Something sets them apart, these dreamers. Something so foreign to me, my heart struggles to wrap around it. It seems the key to the dreamers life is to never let the dreaming stop. Even when they are battered and bruised, tired and worn, shattered and empty - they keep. on. dreaming. They lean into the pain of life - the big and the little - and in the leaning, in the feeling, new dreams form. Light shines through. Hope sprouts up.

Maybe their dreams look different then they did before. Maybe their dreams change color or grow bigger or move further or come closer.

The dreamer's life is not an easy one. Dreaming opens us to the potential of hurt, disappointment, sadness, loss. But it also could create growth, change, healing, authenticity.

For me, to dream is to be vulnerable, to live fully and freely.

May I never let the dreaming stop.

life through my iPhone camera lens.