Saturday, January 31, 2015

brave.

I write a lot on this little blog of mine about being brave. Taking risks. Having courage. Showing vulnerability. Feeling emotions. It's really easy for me to write about these things in vague, feel-good, all-inspiring catch phrases. It gets harder when I have to be specific. But I want to grow in bravery.  I want to take risks daily. I want to have real courage. I want to live a true life of vulnerability. I want to feel all there is to feel. And I want to learn to lean into a deeper grace when these things do not happen. When I'm not-so-brave. When I take the easy way out. When I lose my courage. When I pretend to be okay and I'm not. When I shut down out of fear.

So this morning I want to move towards authenticity: What does it mean for me to be brave in the day-to-day ordinaries of life?

{ To be brave is... }

...to have to call my supervisor for help because my car battery died...again.
...to let myself rest for a full Saturday without doing any work.
...to reach out to someone in the middle of a mental breakdown.
...to walk into the American Nicaraguan School.
...to get myself out of bed to run at 5:45 am.
...to tell people in the States I miss them.
...to talk on the phone in Spanish.
...to FaceTime.
...to give a gift I'm not sure someone will like.
...to sit by myself in church.
...to show up to the high school not knowing how many girls want to come to Cabin Time.
...to cry in front of someone else.
...to fill this blog with my own words.
...to dream.
...to help coach basketball when I have no idea what I'm talking about.
...to pray in Spanish.
...to tell someone about a hard day.
...to say no.
...to go to a gas station and ask for brake fluid in Spanish.
...to attempt cooking or baking.
...to set boundaries.
...to get on an airplane.
...to try new foods.
...to post a picture I took & think is pretty on social media.
...to have to say goodbye over and over again.
...to drive somewhere I've never been without a GPS.
...to surrender.
...to kill a spider.
...to ask for help.

Some moments are braver then others, yes. Some moments I fail at being brave, yes. Some moments are walked away from - some moments are embraced and walked into. Being brave, I'm learning, isn't always accomplished in huge, grand gestures. Sometimes it is in the smallest, seemingly ordinary moments of life that true bravery shines through and catapults us deeper into grace.

Monday, January 19, 2015

2 0 1 5.

Welp, twenty-fifteen finally feels like it's come alive. After being in the States for a month, it was hard to believe that yet another year has come upon us. But honestly, it didn't feel like the new year had truly started until this morning. After arriving back in Nicaragua on Saturday evening, I spent most of yesterday re-adjusting to the heat { which wasn't that difficult - it was, in fact, welcomed. } and other things that Nica life brings along with it. There's nothing like a good ole Monday morning of desk, agenda and life organization to make a new year feel...well, new!

I have been struck recently with how much can happen in a year. SO MUCH. When I think back on good ole twenty-forteen, it was bittersweet. There were moments that I thought I would burst with laughter. There were moments I thought I would burst with tears. I don't even know how to downsize all that happened into a small enough number of words that someone might actually want to read. { except my parents...they would probably read a long post of gibberish about all that happened in twenty-fourteen. what are parents for after all but to read immeasurably long and boring blog posts?! } But as for the rest, I'll spare you. Just know that twenty-fourteen held enough exciting, scary, sad, joyful, brave, not-so-brave, bitter and sweet moments to fill out the year.

And so we have another year on our hands. A year that is already nineteen days over but to me feels like it's just beginning! Can I be honest for a second here? I don't know if I'm ready for another year. I don't know if I'm ready for all the terrifying and/or exciting moments a new year can hold. I don't know if I'm ready for the twists and turns and up and downs of yet another three hundred and sixty five days. Am I even allowed to say that? Well, I guess honesty is the best policy!

If there's one thing we all know, it's time doesn't wait for us to be ready. It passes and passes and passes, kind of brutally if you ask me. But no one really asked me.

So ready or not...2015 has made its entrance. And all there is to do is open my arms and embrace it.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

camp.

Every December, Central America Young Life has a training camp in Nicaragua where all the top leaders of the different countries come together for a week to learn, laugh and grow in Jesus together. We take anywhere from 4 - 5 classes throughout the week, with a Young Life club each night, followed by reflexion and a fun night time activity. Keep in mind - this is all in Spanish. Last year, I had just arrived on a 13 hour bus ride to Nica, woke up the next day and went to training camp. Needless to say I was exhausted - mentally, spiritually and physically. I literally think I sleep my way through camp...my friends all still remember how tired I was! But this year, by God's grace, I made it through the week without feeling totally and completely overwhelmed. In fact, I really enjoyed my time there: Learning about topics such as prayer, discipleship and giving Young Life talks. Meeting people from Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Mexico, Costa Rica and Panama. Laughing and laughing and laughing with my Nica friends (generally at my expense). Bonding with the girl leaders in Managua Central by sharing a (very small, cold) room. It was a wonderful way to end 2014 in Nicaragua. And tomorrow, I'm off to South Carolina to celebrate Christmas with friends and family! Feliz Navidad!













Friday, December 12, 2014

festive.

So I'm kind of a Grinch when it comes to Christmas. It's just not my favorite holiday. (GASP - I know. Someone call the Christmas police.) I think it comes from this incessant need I have to root for the underdog. And in my mind, the underdog in this case is Thanksgiving. So it bothers me that this most amazing holiday of Thanksgiving gets so completely overlooked by the massive green and red whirlwind of Christmas. But here's the thing...in Nicaragua, there is no such thing as Thanksgiving! So I can't even be mad about Christmas decorations going up mid-October or Christmas music being played in November because Thanksgiving { sadly } isn't even a thought! (Although, surprisingly enough, many stores still do Black Friday deals...) Anyways, I have been to more Christmas celebrations in the past month then I would like to admit. But I am going to admit them to you because { shhh - don't tell anyone this...} but they were actually really fun!

It all started with a "cena de gracias" (dinner of thanks) with all the coordinators (team leaders) of the different Vida Joven clubs in Managua. It was a sweet night of having so many key leaders from Managua in one place, giving thanks for all God has done this year in the ministry and dreaming big dreams for 2015!

Coordinators from Managua Central


Managua North, Managua South and Managua Central coordinators

Every Thursday, we have a coordinator meeting for Managua central and one week we spent that time preparing for our Christmas Leadership party. We were like little Christmas elves, decorating Christmas cookies and making Christmas decorations!
Me, Gilbert and Karina

Elsa and I

 Later that week, we had the actual Christmas Leadership party with all the Vida Joven leaders in Managua Central! Somehow, I got roped into running games...dressed as the Grinch with my friend Narcisso as "Santa Nica". Don't worry though...in the end, the Grinch still got a bigger heart and fell in love with Christmas!
Santa Nica and the Grinch

Managua Central leaders

Ada and I...I promise she loved the hat!

Gil and I

I also got to enjoy a fun, dress up night for our Bible study Christmas dinner. I know we look really serious in these pics, but I promise you, this night was spent completing truth or dare challenges, eating amazing gelato and lots of laughter!
Family Christmas card pic?
Ruth, Sarah, Leah, me, Jen, Katie, Amanda and Kelly.

Then came our annual Christmas Party with our amazing student leaders in the International Schools club. Complete with Christmas carols, white elephant gift exchange and a round of Christmas charades.
{ from left to right }
Top: Nicole, Ramiro, Jen, Golda, Adriana and Anamaria.
Bottom: Carlos, Mariana, Ashley, Pratt (& Ada), Nate and I.

We love our student leaders!

 And lastly, to celebrate our last Cabin Time of 2014, the girls came over to decorate Christmas cookies! 
Maria Valeria and her sister 

{ from left to right }
Top: Me, Adriana, Laura, Teresina, Maria Valeria, Ana Paula and Anamaria
Bottom: Francis, Agustina, Denisse, Mariana

Francis, Teresina, Laura, Denisse, Maria Valeria, Ana Paula and I

Adriana, Mariana and Anamaria cutting out some delicious cookies
The final round of the most creative cookie!

So there you have it. Look at me, being all festive with Christmas this year. Who knows, next year I may even start listening to Christmas music...

Thursday, December 4, 2014

hope.

Hope. Something I could always use more of. Something that isn't always so readily seen. Something that can so effortlessly get lost between the roaring { sometimes drowning } waves of life.

Hope, I'm learning, isn't just a word that may about bring happy feelings. Hope is what we must hold on to in order to fully live. Because if we live the way we should, the way we were created to { if we let ourselves fully feel and fully experience all that life brings our way } we must hold onto hope. We must seek, grasp, pursue this thing that perches on our souls.

Without it all is - quite literally - lost.

Because while hope is easily found in times of joy and bliss, it is just as easily lost in times of hurt and disappointment. Those times when we need it the most, hope suddenly seemingly cannot be found - and all feels dark and dreary and hopeless.

So this hope - I want to learn to seek it. Especially in this season - when behind all the frills and flash, hearts are still breaking and tears are still coming and hope is still needed. Lights and trees and sweets may bring me a counterfeit kind of hope. But when they fade away on the first of January, I need something real I can hold on it.

We need this real kind of Hope that never lets us go. This soul reviving kind of Hope.

Hope is what wraps around and peels back the numbness. Hope is what picks us up when we can't get off the floor. Hope is what spreads smiles and laughter. Hope is what strengthens the ever fainting heart. Hope is what allows us to see in seasons of darkness. Hope is what warms the cold, frail soul. Hope is what shines the way when we don't know where else to go. Hope is what gives true life.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches on the soul,
And sings the tune - without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

-Emily Dickinson

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

quiet.

"The LORD your God is with you,
he is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
He will quiet you with his love,
He will rejoice over you with singing."
-Zephaniah 3:17


For years, I have turned to this verse as a source of comfort. In bitter times and in sweet times, this verse has always had the power to evoke some sense of security and safety for me - words that can make the soul smile big and take a deep breathe. Pretty words have that affect on me. It wasn't until I actually experienced the words that I realized what they truly meant. 

"He will quiet you with his love"

The feminist in me fights with the idea of anyone quieting my voice. The logical side of me rolls my eyes because when has the female brain ever been known to be quiet? The rage-against-mainstream-christianity piece of me is irked by how often this verse is slapped onto a hard situation as to avoid actually having to enter into someone else's pain and sit with them there.

But that's not what I came to this beautiful, empty, white space to write about.

My thoughts have the tendency to go haywire. My emotions have the tendency to direct my entire day. My fears have the tendency to paralyze me. And all these things mixed together have the tendency to turn into lies that I have the tendency to believe - then I forget the truth and God's voice of light gets lost in the dysfunctional brokenness of it all.

And the only way to return to reality is to let God quiet me with His perfect love.
He quiets my anxious thoughts with His love.
He quiets my debilitating fears with His love.
He quiets my unpredictable emotions with His love.
He quiets my constant stream of processing with His love.
He quiets my desire for control with His love.

He quiets all these loud booming voices so that I can hear the whisper of His love for me - the certain security of His relentless love for me.

He quiets me so I will listen to the only Voice { this Voice of love } that actually matters.


Thursday, November 20, 2014

the power of stories.

I've been intrigued recently - intrigued by this idea of stories. Books have always been like entering into Narnia for me...this passage way into another world, another life. Reading and soaking in page after page after page of stories: adventure, love, injustice, friendship, war, travel, heartbreak, justice, enemies, beauty. The list goes on and on. But these aren't the kind of stories I'm talking about. These stories, while beautifully and thoughtfully penned, aren't always the ones that grasp your soul.

I have become obsessed with stories. Real, raw, messy, true stories of actual people who have actual faces and breath actual breathe and are living their story fully. The kinds of stories that are only a piece of this messy reality we find ourselves in. The kinds of stories that hit our gut because we see ourselves there. Or maybe we don't see ourselves there and sometimes that can hit just as hard. The kind of stories that give hope. The kind of stories that show wounds. Stories about love, joy and dreaming. Stories about heartbreak, pain and disappointment.

"It's never as black and white as we want it to be...Especially when someone's story gets injected into the conversation. All of a sudden, it gets messy. But it's better if it's messy, I think."

Too often, we hide our stories. Our real stories. Our voices are silenced by the rising call for perfectionism in the world. So we have learned to live behind the protective walls of the stories that sound nice. That are heart warming. That bring a smile or a laugh.

But what about the other half of our stories? What about the stories that we can't tell without tears springing to our eyes? What about the stories that still break our hearts to think about? What about the stories that show brokenness - our own, another's or the world's? What about the stories that don't have a happy ending? When we only tell half our story, we let the world and it's raging obsession with image win out.

"When we listen to voices that have become silenced, we become more fully human."

Since living in Nicaragua, these untold stories are the ones I seek. The ones I want to know. The ones I need my heart to hear. The story behind the begging eyes of the child who taps on my window at the stop sign. The story behind the family who lives at the stoplight selling newspapers. The story behind the waitress at the coffee shop with a shy smile. The story behind the window washer with missing teeth. The story behind the girl with only one hand who stands at the tree. The story behind a high school girl who hides her pain behind the mask of a smile.

There is something supernatural that happens when someone shares their story. Their own story, in their own voice. Their words told to to the world, out loud or written, hold a specific type of power for the story teller and the listener. A power to transform, change, touch, connect, free.

"Stories can change us, change the hearts of others, and change the world. It's my prayer that this book gives you the freedom to speak. And when you do speak, I expect the world around you to look a bit more hopeful, bright and good."

**all quotes taken from Nish Weiseth's book, Speak. Highly recommended.**