sing.

"Here we stand, our hearts are Yours; not our will, but Yours be done."

We sang a song at church last Sunday. It was one of those songs I couldn't get through without tears streaming down my face. I've heard it before - the harmonious sounds of this band, All Sons and Daughters, blaring through the speakers in my own room on multiple occasions. But it took on a new meaning for me, standing there in the back row of church, seeing the words on the screen before me, singing truth over my hardened soul. I couldn't help but change the words in my mind from the seemingly impersonal plural tense to the soul-searching, heart-piercing singular form.

"Here I stand, my heart is Yours; not my will, but Yours be done."

Am I the only one who finds this painstakingly and terrifyingly difficult to sing? Not only to simply sing but to sing these words with with a heart that truly believes it? To sing it with hands open in a true surrender of control over my life? To sing it in a way that allows for the complete bowing of my heart - my own wants, hopes, desires, dreams - to His?

I've had this song on repeat since Sunday. I can't move past it. And I'm not sure that I want to.

{ click here to listen: Wake Up by All Sons and Daughters }

light.

It seems really cliche for me to have a "word of the year" ... it feels really trendy right now to have that one feel-good word. That one I can write in really pretty lettering and plaster on Instagram on January 1st with the oh-so perfect filter for all the world { aka all my followers } to double-tap that picture and boost my number of likes { along with my self-esteem }. Which seems honestly like a terrible idea when I think about it because suddenly I am totally held accountable by some number of people that I interact with on a daily basis. So if I promise via Instagram to be kind for 2015 and someone catches me on a bad day { or when I've yet to have my morning coffee } and I pour all of my frustrations out on you with a { not-so slight } slashing and stinging of words...you get the picture. I write this because I am this person. This. Is. Me. But that's for a different post. I promise to confront my coffee addiction, hater status and desire to keep my social media life looking perfect while my real life is a mess at a later date.

Back to this idea of "the word". Despite my { completely ridiculous } hesitations, I really love having one, simple word to focus on throughout the three-hundred sixty-five days of madness a year brings. It grounds me. It soothes me. It draws me back into simplicity. 2014 was the year of surrender. I can't tell you how many times I found myself back at this word. Trying not to control, manipulate, over-schedule, hold on. Trying to keep my hands open, free fall into this abyss of grace, trust. I failed over and over and over again but having one word to come back to gave me some sense of sanity in the midst of insanity.

Light. That's my word this year. It's kind of ambiguous which is slightly terrifying for me. My whole life feels ambiguous right now so to add another gray-scale layer to the ambiguity has my mind screaming. But my heart and my soul are at peace with this word and they drink it in deeply...so it stays.

Last year, someone told me: "Put yourself physically where you need to be spiritually." And where I needed to be was in the light. I needed the light of Hope to shine through and break down walls. So I began to seek the light. I open my curtains first thing and let the soft morning light seep into the drab corners of my room. I sit on my back patio and watch our whimsical cat play with bugs in that afternoon hour where everything seems to have a golden filter. I light candles at night when I'm reading in bed and let the sweet aroma fill me while letting the flickering wick dance shadows across my walls.

As 2014 drew to a close and this blank, white canvas of 2015 came into view, I slowly began to realize that I needed this light more then I ever had imagined. So I adopted it as "my word" - my year long obsession with light-seeking has already begun. And honestly, I hope it never stops. Because I'm seeing how it's this beautiful, obscure, mystical idea of light that is bringing me back to life.

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.

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.

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!

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...

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