hesed.

HESED: Someone cares and is actively doing something about it.

My heavy heart suddenly soared within me when I first read this definition of the way God loves. It was a like a little piece of all that was breaking within me found rest and solace for the first time in months. This was sometime in the year twenty fifteen and though the exact date or time escapes me, I can remember the feeling of the moment I realized it: He has not forgotten me. The quiet whisper of this truth was soon buried under the weight of all that I saw around me - yet it slowly began to anchor itself to my heart, waiting for just the right moment to re-emerge. And change everything.

When I first chose this word  - or did it choose me? - as my focus word for twenty sixteen, I had no idea the way it would evolve into a way of living. My very being depends on how often and how deeply I breath in this word. God has truly engraved it on my heart, into my very lungs, speaking hesed over all areas of my life. Let me explain.

2015 was not my favorite year - a deep heart break, the destruction of my family's home in a flood, the uncertainty of my future, the loss of some key Young Life girls to the whimsical, shiny opportunities that college and high school offer, watching my grandfather get sicker and sicker from afar. These things coupled with a misunderstanding of God's love brought about a pretty shaky year. Everything felt unstable. Enter: January 1, 2016. I knew I needed something new. Fresh. A hope to cling to. A promise to stand on. My little buried Truth that had unknowingly weaved itself into my soul, peeped its head out of the brokenness that surrounded, as if to say: "Remember me?" And here, hesed made its ground breaking appearance.

Nothing in my circumstances necessarily changed. But hesed entered in the picture and completely changed my heart. It was a gradual thing - the first two months felt equally as shaky as the previous year. But I clung to hesed anyways. I grabbed hold of the idea that God is actively working in my life even when I don't always see how He is moving. I prayed for new vision, new truth, new hope. And He delivered.

Hesed is a Hebrew word, only found in certain places throughout the Bible. There is no direct English translation but the closest would be "loving-kindness" or "steadfast love". Most often it is used in the scriptures when referring the covenantal, sacrificial love that God has for His children. A kind of love that says:

 "You are never forgotten."

"I have bound Myself to you."

"I am with you always."

"I go before you in all things and in Me all things hold together."

"I care about you and am actively doing something about it."

"And yes, even on the days you don't see Me - I still love you more then you will ever know."

Hesed is God working in the seemingly darkened or shadowed places in my life - not because of anything I am doing right, not because I deserve it - simply because He loves me. So now instead of looking only to what I see before me, hesed is teaching me to look for what is unseen - the mysterious, inner workings of Jesus. They are so real. But it has taken a change in perspective, a God given new set of eyes, a heart set on an unshakable foundation.

Often, I still want to crawl back into my hole of self pity and disbelief that my life could be anything more then what I see before me. Thankfully, hesed always brings me back into the loving gaze of my Father and I am reminded this is the good life. And you know what? The best is yet to come.

God is not withholding this thing or that person from me just to watch me suffer. { Although, some days I believe just that. } No - I am living the good life and it is a life that is meant to be lived in the present, ordinary days. When I take my eyes off the splendor of the everyday, when I stop marveling at the unseen - I'm shaken. I'm off kilter. I'm anxious and scared and my mind { and heart } suddenly turn to survival mode. But when I open my heart to the light and recall hesed to mind - everything stills. Peace, which transcends all understanding, covers me. My gaze returns on the One who loves me and I rest in the shadows of His wings.

Some things in life, I have found, promise me a hesed-type of love but always eventually leave me in my most vulnerable moment of desperation. I fall into the sickening yet alluring call of idol after idol after idol. But when I follow the pseudo-promises of beauty, love, material, money, technology, attention, people-pleasing - I am always left with an overwhelming feeling of shame and disappointment. But there is so much grace waiting for me at the feet of Jesus.

The only call that matters is the One that calls me Home.
The One who calls me Higher.
The One who calls me His.
The One who calls me to hesed.

Jesus cares. And He is actively engaged in my life, whether or not I can see it played out before me. He works ever mysteriously yet always intentionally. On these truths, I will plant and water my roots - praying He will continue to grow them and weave them around the depths of His heart. A heart that is always for me and forever with me. A heart that beats hesed love. Just. For. Me.

good.

This is the good life.

One of my newly discovered favorite authors/speakers/feel kinda like my she's my BFF (no offense, Tay Swift) Annie Downs shared this profoundly simple statement. This life I am living right now? Today? It's good. Not always because what is happening around me feels good but because I live life with One who is eternally good.

With Him, this life is a good one. It's a promise that isn't based on how I feel or what I do or what circumstances life brings. It's a promise based on a unchanging, unshakable, life-giving foundation. It's a promise based on the sure, true, steady characteristic of His goodness.

"Surely His love and goodness will follow you all the days of your life."

-Psalm 23:6

They follow me. Two friends named Goodness and Love that I will never be able to escape - and never want to escape. Because there are some days when those two are all I have. But with His goodness and His love, I can brave the sometimes cold, harsh winds of life as they whip around me without a care in the world.

Yesterday I turned t w e n t y - s e v e n. At the beginning of 2016, the idea of turning 27 made me want to crawl underground and never emerge. But as His goodness and love have been following me, I'm learning to embrace the good life Jesus has for me.

Because living in Nicaragua and learning a new language has somehow changed the functioning level of my brain, I have become extremely forgetful. Some call it transitioning but I'm well past the normal transitioning stages. I still can never find my keys and forever can't remember simple English words. { Don't get me started on my inability to use basic sayings and phrases in the correct context. } So I'm constantly looking for ways to remind myself of things: sticky notes on the door, lists in my planner, notes in my phone, writing on my hand, ect.

This truth about the good life - about His unending goodness - I needed a constant reminder of it or I knew I would forget. So here is my daily reminder: two rings of teal and gold. Two reminders of the way His love and goodness are always with me. He is always with me. When I get caught in a moment of loneliness or disappointment or frustration or sadness, they catch my eye and the truth wraps around my tender, weary heart...

Ella, this is the good life. Be brave, stay strong and live it.

brave. (again)

I'm entering a new season in my quest for bravery. It seems to be a constant theme woven into my life ever since I bought that one way plane ticket to Central America. That was the single most bravest thing I have ever done - after twenty-three years of living in the same city in the same state, I picked up my life and moved to what now seems like a whole other world. All. By. Myself.

And that is brave, my friends.

All the times I've been learning to be brave in these past years - it was mostly being brave enough to know myself and how I relate to people. It was a lot about healing from past relationships and opening up to new ones. It was a lot about vulnerability in friendships. It was a lot about learning and adapting to a new culture. It was a lot about communication and honesty and loving without conditions. It was about receiving grace for myself and giving grace to others, even in the moments where grace seemed far and unreachable and inconceivable. These things are brave. Though I am still learning, and always will be learning, how to choose to have courage in moments like those, it feels like a new path of bravery is being laid out before me.

This path is one I never imagined I'd walk. It wasn't part of the plan...but then again, what part of our lives ever work out as we had originally planned? Living in another country, away from friends and family that truly know me brings real, deep, heartfelt moments of loneliness. There is just no way around it. Living abroad lends itself to this kind of longing and sadness. While one learns how to cope healthily, how to make new friendships, how to create an almost second family - there are still those moments.

It feels especially hard when something terrible has happened back home - a dear friend whose dad passes away, a massive flood that brings destruction, the moving on after the loss of a grandfather, a soul sister whose family member is in a horrible car accident. The reality of being so far digs deep into my soul, cutting and breaking and wringing out my heart.

Courage is learning how to grieve these things from afar. But that's only one type of bravery. One that I choose when I moved thousands of miles away from home. I'm learning a different kind of brave now - one that I didn't necessarily want or choose for myself. Yet a growing sense of thankfulness is beginning to surround this new season.

I have a lot of friends in relationships, married or having kids. And saying yes to these things might be one of the bravest things one can do in this crazy, messy life. But learning how to be single is just as brave. Though it doesn't always feel that way. Some days it's just this haunting feeling of being left behind. Other days it's this weight that some how presses in on all sides, barely allowing breathe. And then there are the brave days. The days of aliveness and freedom and gratitude. Days of exploring somewhere new all by myself. Days of teaching myself about cars and living alone and experimenting in the kitchen. Days of camping out at coffee shops for hours or marathon watching Fuller House with girlfriends or splurging on a new duvet cover for your bed just because you want to.

In any season of life, there comes days of angst and anxiety and pressure and loneliness. But there also comes days of courage and seeking and thanksgiving and soul smiling. And I have this assurance: Jesus is in all of the days. As I allow for the ebb and flow of life to shape me and mold me, I know that Jesus is wrapping and weaving Himself into the shaping and molding as well. He welds Himself to my heart each day. I am not alone.

Because I have Jesus, I can be brave. And she who is brave is free.

three.

Three years passes faster then I ever imagined it would. It seems like an eternity and a flash all at once. How can so much emotion and experience be wrapped up and woven into a mere three years?

It was three years ago on February 15th that I packed my bags and moved to Costa Rica for language school before my final destination: Nicaragua. How strange it is to think of that person - all her hopes and dreams and expectations - on the verge of something great yet still hiding behind a wall of fear - who she was and who she hoped to be - how she has evolved over the past three years.

I wouldn't want it any other way. These past three years have played out in every way I would never imagine yet in the same breathe has been everything I hoped it would. Still, there are some things that are part of my "normal" now that I would not have imagined in my wildest dreams those three long years ago...

1. I would never run a red light at night, even if there are no cars around. But in my normal, it is actually safer to pass through a red light late at night than it is to stop. { sorry, mom... }

2. I would never fall asleep if I wasn't sleeping under a blanket. But there are some months that I literally don't have to make my bed for weeks at a time because it is just too hot to climb under the sheets. I literally fall on top of my bed and call it a night.

3. I would never buy { insert insanely high amount of money } on { insert imported item from the US }. Bag of frozen strawberries for $15 dollars? Cheese for $10? Salad dressing for $6? Box of Cheerios for $20? { I've never gone box of Cheerios level before...but I've been tempted. }

4. I would never think about washing my feet before getting into bed. The dry season brings its own storm of dust over Managua. Everywhere you touch is layered with the lightest film of black dirt. Computer, table, food sitting out, bed, floor. Forgot to put on shoes while walking around the house? Feet rinsing before bed becomes a necessity.

5. I would never use my car horn on a daily basis. If I didn't use my car horn, I would get no where in life. Or in Nicaragua.

6. I would never have become addicted to the deliciousness that is a hot cup of Latin American black coffee. Previous to moving, I only drank coffee if it consisted of sugar, ice, whipped cream and a blender. While I still enjoy the occasionally icy, sweet goodness - nothing does my soul good as a pipping hot cup of black café, straight from La Finca.

7. I would have never hung my laundry on a line - and enjoyed doing it. Although we do have a dryer { I'm not a martyr, people. } I generally only use it for certain instances. Something about hanging clothes out on a line makes me feel like I've made it. { see this post for more details }

8. I would never wake up before 6am to start my day. Ever. But if I'm gonna keep my sanity and run three times a week, waking up before 6am is perfectly acceptable. And the only time it's cool enough out to run without dying of a heat stroke. And the sun is up at 5:30am anyways, so unless you have some good black out curtains, you're up.

9. I would never eat rice and beans for breakfast. Two words: Gallo pinto. That is what this delicious mix is called and it is everything. Breakfast or dinner or both. Yum.

10. I would never have to take two showers in one day simply because it is so hot that everyday chores and activities make it seem like you just sat in a sauna for two hours. But there are months that two showers are not only a nice treat - they are needed to survive.

love.

How do I even begin to describe the kind of love I have for these people? It seems impossible but I must try.

This group of people who are so different then me - yet love me deeply despite my differences. Despite my cultural ignorance. Despite my frustrations and high emotions and general craziness. Despite my poor Spanish, my constant tiredness, my misunderstandings. Despite my craziness, my embarrassing moments, my terrible dancing. Despite the fact that they have known a deep poverty that I will never truly wrap my mind around. Despite the suffering they have passed through 

- homeless, abandoned, abuse, living in cars, lack of food, broken families, molestation, rejection from church, unsure sometimes of where their next meal would come from - 

the kind of brokenness and despair I have never experienced. 

These people - my people - love so whole heartedly, so unconditionally. They all too often are the arms and feet and eyes and words of Jesus for me. They speak such deep wisdom. They share such wide joy. In the midst of the deep darkness they came from - they shine with the light of Jesus. Through their words and actions hope unfolds before me, sunlight dancing across the weary shadows of my soul.

How do I even begin to describe the kind of love I have for these people? Well, I begin by describing their love for me. I begin by telling their individual stories of pain and suffering and how Jesus reached out to them and touched their lives. I begin to tell you how their contagious joy touches the depths of my soul when I need it most. Oh, they don't even know.

As I sat on my flight, I opened the note. I read what each person had written and I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my face. My love for them grows even deeper as their words of truth and love touch the inmost parts of my heart. They heal me - these words of grace.

Without even knowing it, these people, these friends, this family - they pick up little pieces of my heart and glue them back together. And with each piece that finds its place again - love grows.

worlds.

It's enough to make my head spin, this twelve hour turn over between worlds.

World One: La Finca. All spanish. Unfamiliar food. Tired mind. Vida Joven. Unadulterated joy. Deep peace. Deep sadness. Deep hurt. Deep healing. Many classes. Truth spoken. Rest had. Friendships strengthened. Laughter abundant. Heart familia. Impoverished culture. This kind of world that makes you slow and reflect. This world that causes such a deep dependence on Jesus. This world I so easily belong to, yet so easily stand out. This world that has pushed me and challenged me and strengthened me and broken me.

World Two: Pristine order. Shocking cleanliness. All english. Hustle and bustle. A sigh of relief. Overwhelming options. My roots. Heart language. Heart friendships. Unconditional love. My family. Deep comfort. Thrilling and flashing lights of Christmas all around. Familiar sights. Favorite things. Chik-fil-a. This world that excites me yet scares me all at once. This world of my roots, my veins, my blood. This world that shaped me for 23 years of my life. This world that I so easily belong to yet so easily stand out. This world that has pushed me and challenged me and strengthened me and broken me.

It always comes quickly and unexpectedly - this change of worlds. In a flash, it seems, I move from one to the other. In a blink of the eye, I'm here then there. Forever suspended between two worlds that have so deeply shaped who I am. With one the process was long and slow and deep, The other, it was sudden and swift and deep. But they equally hold a special place in my heart. How could I ever choose between two worlds - so unique yet so impactful? I can't. And I won't. I'll just keep in the present, in the suspended place of surrender and unknown between each world, fully investing wherever I am.

In mere hours I move from one to another. Not easily, mind you - but quickly still. Missing what I've left behind, yet yearning for what is ahead. Two worlds, converging together in the depths of my heart to make something unique and true and fascinating happen. Instead of dividing my heart between the two, strangely it unites it in a unique and beautiful dance - the two worlds colliding into a big, sloppy mess. But it's my mess. And tangled up in the deep mess within me is a deep kind of Love I could never experience otherwise. He tangles Himself up into this sloppy union of worlds within me. And in this tangling of Light in the deep confusion - here is where I feel at home. Here is where I feel a deep presence of Jesus. Here is where peace interjects itself into the tension. Here is where I see grace more deeply, more fully, more radically.

"I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us."

Papa.

{ I had the honor of saying a few words at my grandfather's memorial service today. It seems only appropriate to share these words here. }

Many of y’all here today know Dr. Julian Alexander Salley in a unique way. I’m sure each person here has a different story or memory that highlights the various faucets of his life. I like to think I am one of the eight lucky ones because I got the privilege of knowing him as Papa, my grandfather. Something incredible about Papa - something I don’t think I truly grew to appreciate until later in life - was that he took every opportunity he could to teach the eight of us. Whether it was how to shuffle a deck of cards, hook a worm, reel in a fish, shoot a gun, have appropriate table manners, ride a wave, water ski behind the boat, appreciate a sunrise over the ocean, look up from our cell phones, swing a golf club, eat a lobster in its entirety or watch the birds come in at High Creek. Sometimes it was how not to text and drive, ride a motorcycle or get a tattoo. The list is truly endless.

But I believe the most important and precious thing Papa taught his grandchildren wasn’t through these little lessons of wisdom and adventure. Without even knowing it, Papa taught us how to love.

We watched him love his patients and the people he worked with - listening to countless stories from people all over South Carolina when they discovered we were related to the famous Dr. Salley.

We watched him love his daughter-in-laws as if they were his own - always opening his home, his dinner table, his vacations, his knowledge and his his arms to them.

We watched him love his sons - celebrating each of life’s milestones with them, unconditionally cherishing each of their strengths and weaknesses and always pushing them to be the best version of theirselves.

Papa never looked more alive then when he was surrounded by his family.

But most of all, we watched Papa love his bride, Granny Kat. We watched him love her deeply and truly. We watched him take care of her and listen to her. We watched him hold her hand at every opportunity and kiss her check whenever he could. We watched him open doors for her, serve her and walk by her side - literally as they walked down the beach or through the fields of High Creek and figuratively as they walked through all of life’s many joys and disappointments together. Granny Kat was truly Papa’s other half.

As we celebrate the life of this brave man today, I am able to smile through the tears knowing a piece of him remains with us - not only in the stories and memories of every person gathered here but also in the unending wisdom, life-giving smile and beautiful heart of our grandmother, Granny Kat.

We love you so much Papa. Thank you for all you’ve taught us. You are dearly missed.