rest.

I'm thankful I have such a disciplined roommate - without fail she wakes up with the sun six days a week to make the three mile trek of tennis shoes pounding on poorly paved concrete. { fun fact: sun rises at 5:30 am in Nicaragua every.single.day....cue black out shades and sleep masks } She always inspires me with her consistency - so much so, that I began to pick up this little early morning running habit as well. { still, it's lucky if I'm able to drag myself out of bed this early a mere three times a week, followed immediately by an hour long mid-morning nap. }

Sometimes we run and talk, sometimes we run in silence, sometimes we run and complain about the heat, sometimes we run and basically shout words of encouragement to each other to keep going. But anyway you slice it, at least we run.

In the midst of one of our early morning run convos, she said simple, seemingly ordinary words that somehow rang deep in my soul.

"You know, while you run you are actually making your muscles weaker. It's in the days of resting where muscle strength is really built."

At first glance, this seemed to me like a good enough excuse to cut back on all the running and just "rest". But they go hand in hand - this dance of running and resting.

Strength is built in the resting. How ironic. This is the type of truth that cuts me to the core and awakens something in me I didn't realize had disappeared into slumber. This is one truth that could save me.

You see, in ministry, there is always some running to be done. There is always another high school friend to be reached, another e-mail to be sent, another Bible study to be planned, another phone call to be made.

In Nicaragua, there is always another missionary friend to connect with, another broken car part to replace, another Nica friend to invite over, another bill that must be paid at the endless bank line.

In life, there is always another thing to scratch off the to-do list, another letter to write, another floor to be swept, another dinner to be cooked.

Ministry, Nicaragua, life...they all demand so much. It can overwhelm the soul and make the heart an anxious one to think of all there is to do.

And in a quiet whisper I hear...strength is built in the resting. This is where the real work is done. This is where stamina is constructed. This is where real living happens. When I allow rest, the demands of everything around me don't feel so suffocating.

Jesus speaks these words of truth to Paul so plainly in 2 Corinthians: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Pauls continues..."Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weakness, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

Jesus is in the running. And He is in the resting. And His strength is the anchor for all. So I continue to run. And I continue to rest. Because if all is truly grace { the running and the resting and everything in-between }....how can I not?

break.

Have you ever had the audacity to break open a sand dollar? You know, the one that you spent hours walking up and down the beach to find? The one that's perfectly round and white and charming? To break it seems almost cruel. And for what? Nobody fawns over a half a sand dollar. No one oh's and aw's over a little piece of shell. It is wholeness that people find exquisite.

But what if what they say is true and what if there really is beauty in brokenness? What would happen if we were brave enough to redefine beauty and allow broken pieces to be found lovely as well? To see redemption in the broken pieces of our own hearts. To look for grace in the broken pieces of others lives. To seek Jesus in the broken pieces of the world.

Have you ever had the audacity to break open a sand dollar? Because if we're just brave enough to sit there long enough, among the broken pieces beauty can be found.

camp.

Almost a month ago, twenty-seven Young Life friends from Nicaragua boarded a plane to the most beautiful place in the world - Windy Gap! After the week, I was even more convinced of two things:

1. Summer camp is one of the best things that Young Life has to offer.

2. I have one of the best jobs in the world.

One of my favorite things is to look back through pictures after the week is over and re-live all the memories...so I thought I would share a few of my favorites here.

Enjoy!

jump.

She couldn't stop the tears from flowing as she held on for dear life. Though she was harnessed in and  completely secure, she grasped the pole as if it was the only thing in the world that could save her. The confidence she had displayed only fifteen minutes before had completely disappeared and been replaced with a paralyzing fear. No shouts of encouragement from the ground could dispel her uncertainty.

So I climbed.

the Quantum Leap at Windy Gap

Two tall telephone poles sit next to each other, stretching forty feet into the air. The idea seems simple enough: using the evenly-placed metal pegs, you climb to the top and jump off. Wearing a full body harness, a helmet and strapped into a rope and belayer, you feel (and are) completely safe. But with each brave step upward, somehow your mind begins to feed you the lies.

You can't do this. You will fall. You are stuck. It's too high. You just aren't brave enough. You just aren't enough.

I could see the fear in her eyes as I climbed to the top of the second pole - the one adjacent to her. "Just look at me! Don't look down!" I called out. "Look, we'll do it together." Over and over again, I explained to her exactly what to do. At the top of those two forty foot poles, we danced. "Follow me!" I told her, "I know it feels scary but everything will be okay. I promise." One foot here, right hand there, push up on this leg. But each time she got just inches from jumping, she looked down. And shrank back down to the pole, holding it as her life source.

For ten minutes up on that pole, possibly the only ten minutes of the whole week, she was vulnerable. Her fear displayed. Her doubts, her uncertainties, her questions. When we were both up there on those two poles, eyes locked, I got a glimpse of her soul. This hard girl who laughed at my questions and rolled her eyes at my comments and turned her nose at my encouragement - for just one moment, I got to see what was behind the walls.

What if I'm not enough? What if I get hurt? What if I'll never belong? What if I'm rejected? What if Jesus doesn't care as much as you say He does? What if Jesus isn't even real? What if... What if...

In the end, she didn't jump. The fear and the questions and the doubts were too much and the ropes team on the ground had to help her down. And once she hit the ground, the walls were back up and the embarrassment and disappointment ran deep. The ignoring and the back turning and the snide remarks continued.

But I wouldn't trade that experience for the world. Because for those ten minutes, she was brave and she was vulnerable and she was real. And I got to be there for it. I got to look into those eyes of fear and speak His truth over the world's lies.

Yes, you are enough. You aren't alone. You can it. You are brave enough. He is trustworthy. He is real. He really does love you more then you could ever imagine.

And this is why I so deeply believe in Young Life and the way we get to introduce Jesus to our high school friends. This is why I love getting to do what I do.

Because at the end of the day, even the hardest of hearts need the softening grace of Jesus. Even the toughest are dying to hear about the depths of His love. Even the furthest out are thirsty for something more then what the world is offering.

confessions.

It all started when someone told me I reminded them of Blake Lively. I was literally floored, shell shocked, be-fumbled. The picture of Blake Lively I have in my head is elegant, graceful, cultured, classy, polished, super cool.
{ aka the exact opposite of myself }

So it made me wonder - do people think I'm "cooler" then I actually am? Those who know me well surely do not classify me as cool nor anywhere near the realm of Blake Lively. Oh, they know the truth.

But maybe a lot of things in my life bode well for possibly giving off that "cooler", more whimsical lifestyle.

For instance:

-live in a foreign, beautiful, tropical, not-as-well-known country? check.

-have at least seven different picture editing apps downloaded on my phone to find the perfect filtered effect? check.

-a mom who knows the ins and outs of fashion and therefore has picked out around 80% of my closet for me? check.

-decent cursive handwriting { after years of practice } so that the loops and curves actually make it look like I'm artistic without actually trying? check. 

note: anchor earrings.

But the reality is...I'm kind of a dork.

I do things like wear anchor earrings to remind myself that I'm anchored to Jesus.

I normally drink coffee out of a raccoon mug. { not one of the cooler, flowered ones I own }

I consistently make up music videos in my head.

I am Taylor Swift's best { read: worst } back-up singer that she just hasn't met yet.

I write { not-very-good } poems to give as birthday cards.

I spent way too much time taking these incredibly embarrassing selfies for this blog post.

I have completely awkward dance moves that make my friends shake their heads in shame when I pull them on the dance floor.

I really, really, really love the show Glee....and have read the Hunger Games and Divergent series more times then I'd like to admit.

So even though I really do love and enjoy the cool, trendy things right now - pretty flowers, black coffee, cozy flannel, perfectly-placed sunlight, dry shampoo, fruit-infused water, red lips, washi tape, watercolors, flowy dresses, ect ect - my true { read: dorky } colors still show more often then not.

So here ya go: real life confessions from a twenty-six year old nerd who from time to time attempts to give off the impression of natural and effortless coolness. { but who really just wants to post so many cat Instagrams and read poorly written teen fiction }

note: raccoon mug.

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!