Hey all, just received this email from a friend who is headed to Congo Thursday to pick up their newly adopted son.
There is a collection bin at the Antioch Church offices until 2:00 PM today, April 7th. If you have additional baby formula or a few moments to drop by some spare cash you may have please do so.
376 SW Bluff Drive, Suite 8
Bend, OR 97702
----
I want to apologize for the short notice, but Kristen and I just got off the phone with our lawyer concerning our trip to the DRC this Thursday. Briefly, Kristen and I will be traveling to the DRC (Kinshasa) to pick up our newly adopted son, Bonheur, this week. Our lawyer informed us of a recent crisis within three orphanages that has just developed.
Apparently, there has been a recent formula shortage within Kinshasa, driving the price of formula up to astronomical prices. As a result, the infants of these orphanages are being fed with water and a spoonful of sugar. Many of the children are not expected to survive. Our itinerary is being altered so that we will be able to deliver formula and food bought at a local market to these three inter-city orphanages, one of which is solely for infants with AIDS.
If there is anything that could be done to get the word out to the Antioch body, it would be much appreciated. Kristen and I will be going to Costco this Wednesday to buy as much formula as our luggage will carry; any additional money will be spent at a local market in Kinshasa to buy food for the orphanages next week.
It is comforting to know that formula and money for basic food necessities will be in the hands of their caretakers within a week.
Cameron
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Saturday, April 3, 2010
flurry
something's amiss
it's simply out of order
even my fingers lay
listless on the keys
if they were to move
I worry they may be
brittle and crumble
for what's amiss
is deep in my soul
and that soul is
deeply connected
to every word that
escapes me no matter
the form, whether
spoken or written
or typed or sang
or whispered -
even thought of
I often feel lost in
who I want to be or who
I think I'm meant to be
and when lost I tend
to drift along hoping
for a flurry of the soul
for here I am
bewildered and left
to fend questions I
do not have answers to
and lost I find I'm
asked to hold a brave face
to appear indifferent
for emotion mixed with
confusion is surely
an uncommon taboo
and why oh why would
you possibly feel lost
in a world where you are
fortunate to have
access to anything simply
to make your dreams
come alive
and yet...
and yet I'm often lost
in who I want to be or who
I think I'm meant to be
and for now I'm out to see
if there's anything alive
inside of me and I will
drift along until I find
a flurry in my soul
that speaks deep truth
and love and justice
and mercy and understanding
and all of those things
our souls seem to gravitate
toward for somewhere
we must know truth
for it is built into the
unswerving beat of our hearts.
When I started school last fall I had just a smidgen of direction. I wondered how long it would take before things began narrowing into what I really felt like God wanted me to do with such a fancy little piece of paper. I'm sure as heck not doing it for the "oohs" and "ahhs" (or even the "what the heck does that degree even mean?"). I'm doing it because I'm passionate about justice. I'm passionate about doing justice through communication. I'm passionate about doing justice through my love of writing. That, I believe, is God's beautiful gift to me.
Of course through this season of discovering this passion of mine I feel a little part of me has died. Amidst the research I've been doing about injustice, the stories I've heard, the documentaries I've watched, and even reading some parts of the bible I've found my outlook on this world has dimmed. Honestly? It's probably for the best.
...But I miss the part of me that was unwaveringly optimistic. I miss the part of me that would wake up and never lack hope or faith in what this world could be (but never will be). That part of me, however, has been replaced with a firm belief that eventually, justice will be had. Eventually my life will have fulfilled a purpose greater than I can imagine - not because I want to be great, but because I want injustice to cease. I want justice for the woman who's been raped and birthed a child that will every.damn.day remind her of a horror she lives. I want justice for her child who will quite possibly be neglected and unloved for the sheer fact that he or she exists. I want justice for the little girl and woman that's beaten and drugged and "broken in" to become a prostitute and trafficked around the globe without even a glimmer of hope. I want justice for the slave. I want justice for the oppressed. These people have names and faces and horrific stories...somehow, some way, we must hear them and allow them resonate in our souls that we may do something to help.
No, I cannot fix everything. No, I may not be able to fix anything. Ever. That I understand. I cry for that. However, I will do what I can do and that is write, speak, educate, empower. I know now after a few months of even deeper searching and research that my field has narrowed - even slightly - to women. I don't know what that means. God does. I can rest in that. I also know that doing justice permeates the whole of my life. It is finishing a degree. It is writing. It is this silly, unknown little blog. It is the book I am writing. It is the research that I pour over and cry about. It is the daily goings on. It is drawing near to God.
A note of thanks to my big sister - the one that's known me the most consistently for the longest period of time in one particular place. Thank you for helping me see my soul and my heart in a beautiful, God-ordained way that I might have otherwise passed by. You are a gem (more than the server at the bar who poured us delicious beers...so much more). Love.
it's simply out of order
even my fingers lay
listless on the keys
if they were to move
I worry they may be
brittle and crumble
for what's amiss
is deep in my soul
and that soul is
deeply connected
to every word that
escapes me no matter
the form, whether
spoken or written
or typed or sang
or whispered -
even thought of
I often feel lost in
who I want to be or who
I think I'm meant to be
and when lost I tend
to drift along hoping
for a flurry of the soul
for here I am
bewildered and left
to fend questions I
do not have answers to
and lost I find I'm
asked to hold a brave face
to appear indifferent
for emotion mixed with
confusion is surely
an uncommon taboo
and why oh why would
you possibly feel lost
in a world where you are
fortunate to have
access to anything simply
to make your dreams
come alive
and yet...
and yet I'm often lost
in who I want to be or who
I think I'm meant to be
and for now I'm out to see
if there's anything alive
inside of me and I will
drift along until I find
a flurry in my soul
that speaks deep truth
and love and justice
and mercy and understanding
and all of those things
our souls seem to gravitate
toward for somewhere
we must know truth
for it is built into the
unswerving beat of our hearts.
When I started school last fall I had just a smidgen of direction. I wondered how long it would take before things began narrowing into what I really felt like God wanted me to do with such a fancy little piece of paper. I'm sure as heck not doing it for the "oohs" and "ahhs" (or even the "what the heck does that degree even mean?"). I'm doing it because I'm passionate about justice. I'm passionate about doing justice through communication. I'm passionate about doing justice through my love of writing. That, I believe, is God's beautiful gift to me.
Of course through this season of discovering this passion of mine I feel a little part of me has died. Amidst the research I've been doing about injustice, the stories I've heard, the documentaries I've watched, and even reading some parts of the bible I've found my outlook on this world has dimmed. Honestly? It's probably for the best.
...But I miss the part of me that was unwaveringly optimistic. I miss the part of me that would wake up and never lack hope or faith in what this world could be (but never will be). That part of me, however, has been replaced with a firm belief that eventually, justice will be had. Eventually my life will have fulfilled a purpose greater than I can imagine - not because I want to be great, but because I want injustice to cease. I want justice for the woman who's been raped and birthed a child that will every.damn.day remind her of a horror she lives. I want justice for her child who will quite possibly be neglected and unloved for the sheer fact that he or she exists. I want justice for the little girl and woman that's beaten and drugged and "broken in" to become a prostitute and trafficked around the globe without even a glimmer of hope. I want justice for the slave. I want justice for the oppressed. These people have names and faces and horrific stories...somehow, some way, we must hear them and allow them resonate in our souls that we may do something to help.
No, I cannot fix everything. No, I may not be able to fix anything. Ever. That I understand. I cry for that. However, I will do what I can do and that is write, speak, educate, empower. I know now after a few months of even deeper searching and research that my field has narrowed - even slightly - to women. I don't know what that means. God does. I can rest in that. I also know that doing justice permeates the whole of my life. It is finishing a degree. It is writing. It is this silly, unknown little blog. It is the book I am writing. It is the research that I pour over and cry about. It is the daily goings on. It is drawing near to God.
A note of thanks to my big sister - the one that's known me the most consistently for the longest period of time in one particular place. Thank you for helping me see my soul and my heart in a beautiful, God-ordained way that I might have otherwise passed by. You are a gem (more than the server at the bar who poured us delicious beers...so much more). Love.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Decisions, Redemption
"But to deviate from the truth for the sake of some prospect of hope of our own can never be wise, however slight that deviation may be. It is not our judgment of the situation which can show us what is wise, but only the truth of the Word of God. Here alone lies the promise of God's faithfulness and help. It will always be true that the wisest course for the disciple is always to abide solely by the Word of God in all simplicity." - Dietrich Bonhoeffer
To the outside world I've had a relatively carefree week. The winter term is over, spring break is here, exciting things are happening and I'm generally optimistic (as usual). Inwardly, however, I've been contemplative and reflective over the last couple of years of my life and where I'm headed now. It's just that time of year, I guess.
I'm making decisions for my life that are important; decisions that are heavy and include consequences - not necessarily bad - that I can actually foresee. I am making decisions much differently than I did when I was just a few years younger. Those years, apparently, add character (or something like that, right?). I'm moving to California next year. That's a big decision. I'm writing a book. That's a big decision. I'm doing things for me - not things society or family or friends or people expect me to do. Most importantly: I'm doing things for God, for the One I put my faith into.
I've come out of this state of fear and uncertainty with my faith into a place where every day I make a decision about it. Every day I choose to look deeper into God's heart for His people and trust He's got a bigger plan than I know. Every day I choose to believe the bible and the promises that God wrote into it. Every day I choose to serve Him and focus my thoughts toward Him. Every day I choose to see what He wants for me. Every day I choose to see the people around me as loved and out of that I try to be a light for God to them. I choose to offer the hope that I know. That's my choice. It's totally not easy. Some days I dislike these choices, but the beauty that my heart knows because of these choices is nothing I would trade. I'm starting to understand this "commitment" thing.
And because of this decision to choose God - although sometimes sporadically - I see my life becoming something it wasn't before. I see fruit of the mercy God graciously gave to me. I used to be broken. I used to make bad decisions without anticipating consequences as I should (and I'm sure I unwittingly still do). I see the beauty of my family and community in my life. I see the beauty of honesty and love through difficulties and the daily grind. I see, via my faith, things in my life that I intentionally direct toward God coming back to Him and the way He intended life to be - I see redemption.
To the outside world I've had a relatively carefree week. The winter term is over, spring break is here, exciting things are happening and I'm generally optimistic (as usual). Inwardly, however, I've been contemplative and reflective over the last couple of years of my life and where I'm headed now. It's just that time of year, I guess.
I'm making decisions for my life that are important; decisions that are heavy and include consequences - not necessarily bad - that I can actually foresee. I am making decisions much differently than I did when I was just a few years younger. Those years, apparently, add character (or something like that, right?). I'm moving to California next year. That's a big decision. I'm writing a book. That's a big decision. I'm doing things for me - not things society or family or friends or people expect me to do. Most importantly: I'm doing things for God, for the One I put my faith into.
I've come out of this state of fear and uncertainty with my faith into a place where every day I make a decision about it. Every day I choose to look deeper into God's heart for His people and trust He's got a bigger plan than I know. Every day I choose to believe the bible and the promises that God wrote into it. Every day I choose to serve Him and focus my thoughts toward Him. Every day I choose to see what He wants for me. Every day I choose to see the people around me as loved and out of that I try to be a light for God to them. I choose to offer the hope that I know. That's my choice. It's totally not easy. Some days I dislike these choices, but the beauty that my heart knows because of these choices is nothing I would trade. I'm starting to understand this "commitment" thing.
And because of this decision to choose God - although sometimes sporadically - I see my life becoming something it wasn't before. I see fruit of the mercy God graciously gave to me. I used to be broken. I used to make bad decisions without anticipating consequences as I should (and I'm sure I unwittingly still do). I see the beauty of my family and community in my life. I see the beauty of honesty and love through difficulties and the daily grind. I see, via my faith, things in my life that I intentionally direct toward God coming back to Him and the way He intended life to be - I see redemption.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
The Cutting Room Floor
I often feel I need the answers
to the deepest longings of my soul,
the unknown, the unknowable
I search them out as if they sit perched
on a lovely tree branch around the corner
just beyond the bend of the path
my feet happen to be walking upon
I often feel my heart beating to
escape the fortress so carefully built
to protect it during times of war
and this, my dear, is not a war
tis but a dance of life,
brimming with promise
and possibility and adventure
this my dear, is not a war
and vulnerability is not a crime
I often feel terrified of becoming
what I have been, something I once was
not to any true fault of my own
but a commodity, a thing for simple pleasure
it is not the way intended
but wouldn't it be beautiful
to shed that reasoning and simply be
I often feel the residue of cynicism
darkening my expectations of what could be -
the burns and the scars have not gone away
and I wonder if they ever will
and can I be free of or redeemed from
something that wounded the core of my being
so horribly and thoughtlessly
And yet I often feel hope
and I desire trust above all
to live a fulfilling, awe-inspiring life
that speaks of Greater things
that declares love and freedom
redemption and potential
that nothing we are is thrown carelessly
to the cutting room floor
to the deepest longings of my soul,
the unknown, the unknowable
I search them out as if they sit perched
on a lovely tree branch around the corner
just beyond the bend of the path
my feet happen to be walking upon
I often feel my heart beating to
escape the fortress so carefully built
to protect it during times of war
and this, my dear, is not a war
tis but a dance of life,
brimming with promise
and possibility and adventure
this my dear, is not a war
and vulnerability is not a crime
I often feel terrified of becoming
what I have been, something I once was
not to any true fault of my own
but a commodity, a thing for simple pleasure
it is not the way intended
but wouldn't it be beautiful
to shed that reasoning and simply be
I often feel the residue of cynicism
darkening my expectations of what could be -
the burns and the scars have not gone away
and I wonder if they ever will
and can I be free of or redeemed from
something that wounded the core of my being
so horribly and thoughtlessly
And yet I often feel hope
and I desire trust above all
to live a fulfilling, awe-inspiring life
that speaks of Greater things
that declares love and freedom
redemption and potential
that nothing we are is thrown carelessly
to the cutting room floor
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
A Remarkable Turn
My life has taken a sudden, remarkable turn.
A couple of days ago I hit my epiphany that set my heart at ease about a number of things: school, desires, where I am headed after school, etc. It set my heart at peace so much so that I was able to hear God telling me to move in a new and radical way. Before I delve into that I need to explain a little bit about my life pre-epiphany.
Things pre-epiphany were new and exciting. I was back in school, working hard, getting into a groove of studying and trying to balance the rest of my already settled life of friends, family and skiing. School was challenging - more so than I expected. The bible study I had started to lead was rocking my face off. And yet, somewhere below the surface I was not at rest. My writing was inhibited and I couldn't figure out why (though I'm grateful for that: in order to combat this writer's block I started some new habits and practices that are truly helping me refine my abilities). My "writer's block" was the biggest inclination, however, that something in my soul was amiss.
Last week I had two conversations two days apart with two people who live in different states. I admire these folks greatly and both of them - darn near verbatim - told me the same thing: if I'm to get a degree in Intercultural Communications I should think about transferring to a larger and more diverse school for my upper level courses. They proposed being in a small town has the potential to be toxic to my education. They were in no way saying that the profs here in Bend are under-qualified or that my degree wouldn't mean much from such a small school in a small town. Put simply: it would likely be a healthy change for me as a person to head to a bigger city to challenge me personally as well as in my education.
When things like these conversations repeat themselves I take notice. I would be hard-pressed to let this particular instance slip by. I requested information from a couple of schools within an 8 hour driving radius hoping first that I wouldn't have to go too far from home. I still wasn't convinced of leaving Bend. I always imagined I would finish school close to my family and friends and maybe even get married before leaving to find a job with an international relief organization. I love Bend. I love this community. You couldn't have talked me into leaving if you tried...
...until one fateful morning at Thump.
I was tootling around online looking at schools on the West Coast and I happened across the Pepperdine Universtiy website. As soon as I clicked on the page for the International/Intercultural Communications Studies program and skimmed through the description something deep in my soul clicked. The program in and of itself is positively astounding (as it should be for a school like Pepperdine). I realized in that moment I would be leaving Bend and I was excited.
Pepperdine is my first choice. There are a lot of unknowns at this point: finances, the date when I can transfer into the program (it will be Spring or Fall of 2011), if I am even accepted, etc. I have a handful of schools I will apply for as backup options (Westmont and Biola are a couple of them).
After this rather quick turn of events I sat down with yet another amazing friend of mine for dinner. We got on the topic of what I called my "writer's block" and the potential of that feeling being more than just, well, "writer's block". As we discussed this I realized it might have been instead an underlying dissatisfaction with certain aspects of life - things which I still cannot put my finger on - only one of which I know for certain.
There is, in this town, an identity which I cannot escape. I've tried with all of my might to make the switch from business owner and wedding gown designer to student, writer and future advocate. And yet week after week I encounter someone who will wonder "Why? Really - a writer?" or I'll get inquiry on top of inquiry for new clients or potential business partnerships. It's all that marketing - it's really starting to pay off! Ironic! ...burdensome.
It sounds ridiculous but it is exhausting trying to escape that identity. Yes, I loved my work. I loved silk and lace, I loved my clients who glowed with excitement, I loved putting together a business and watching the different aspects work together as a functioning whole, I loved all of it. Until, that is, I realized my deeper passion was for the oppressed and the potential for me to use my voice as a means to bring injustice to light.
So I find freedom in escaping this identity and moving forward in what I truly believe God has called me to. I find freedom in leaving.
A couple of days ago I hit my epiphany that set my heart at ease about a number of things: school, desires, where I am headed after school, etc. It set my heart at peace so much so that I was able to hear God telling me to move in a new and radical way. Before I delve into that I need to explain a little bit about my life pre-epiphany.
Things pre-epiphany were new and exciting. I was back in school, working hard, getting into a groove of studying and trying to balance the rest of my already settled life of friends, family and skiing. School was challenging - more so than I expected. The bible study I had started to lead was rocking my face off. And yet, somewhere below the surface I was not at rest. My writing was inhibited and I couldn't figure out why (though I'm grateful for that: in order to combat this writer's block I started some new habits and practices that are truly helping me refine my abilities). My "writer's block" was the biggest inclination, however, that something in my soul was amiss.
Last week I had two conversations two days apart with two people who live in different states. I admire these folks greatly and both of them - darn near verbatim - told me the same thing: if I'm to get a degree in Intercultural Communications I should think about transferring to a larger and more diverse school for my upper level courses. They proposed being in a small town has the potential to be toxic to my education. They were in no way saying that the profs here in Bend are under-qualified or that my degree wouldn't mean much from such a small school in a small town. Put simply: it would likely be a healthy change for me as a person to head to a bigger city to challenge me personally as well as in my education.
When things like these conversations repeat themselves I take notice. I would be hard-pressed to let this particular instance slip by. I requested information from a couple of schools within an 8 hour driving radius hoping first that I wouldn't have to go too far from home. I still wasn't convinced of leaving Bend. I always imagined I would finish school close to my family and friends and maybe even get married before leaving to find a job with an international relief organization. I love Bend. I love this community. You couldn't have talked me into leaving if you tried...
...until one fateful morning at Thump.
I was tootling around online looking at schools on the West Coast and I happened across the Pepperdine Universtiy website. As soon as I clicked on the page for the International/Intercultural Communications Studies program and skimmed through the description something deep in my soul clicked. The program in and of itself is positively astounding (as it should be for a school like Pepperdine). I realized in that moment I would be leaving Bend and I was excited.
Pepperdine is my first choice. There are a lot of unknowns at this point: finances, the date when I can transfer into the program (it will be Spring or Fall of 2011), if I am even accepted, etc. I have a handful of schools I will apply for as backup options (Westmont and Biola are a couple of them).
After this rather quick turn of events I sat down with yet another amazing friend of mine for dinner. We got on the topic of what I called my "writer's block" and the potential of that feeling being more than just, well, "writer's block". As we discussed this I realized it might have been instead an underlying dissatisfaction with certain aspects of life - things which I still cannot put my finger on - only one of which I know for certain.
There is, in this town, an identity which I cannot escape. I've tried with all of my might to make the switch from business owner and wedding gown designer to student, writer and future advocate. And yet week after week I encounter someone who will wonder "Why? Really - a writer?" or I'll get inquiry on top of inquiry for new clients or potential business partnerships. It's all that marketing - it's really starting to pay off! Ironic! ...burdensome.
It sounds ridiculous but it is exhausting trying to escape that identity. Yes, I loved my work. I loved silk and lace, I loved my clients who glowed with excitement, I loved putting together a business and watching the different aspects work together as a functioning whole, I loved all of it. Until, that is, I realized my deeper passion was for the oppressed and the potential for me to use my voice as a means to bring injustice to light.
So I find freedom in escaping this identity and moving forward in what I truly believe God has called me to. I find freedom in leaving.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Ephiphany
I came to a simple, beautiful epiphany yesterday - which shows you just how young I still am as a follower of Christ. I've been praying for one thing for 7 years and God has yet to answer me. I realized in my frustration over the past week that there's been a disconnect in this prayer over the years. I know I haven't truly surrendered this to God but I've been trying; I simply don't know what submission in this respect looks like. More often than not our relationship with God is not tangible or easy to peg - obviously.
Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. -1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
That little phrase, "pray without ceasing" is something I haven't exactly practiced. Even this prayer of 7 years has been intermittent and lacking fervency. However, I realized as I was praying about this last night that the simple act of persistent prayer is about a continual "letting go" of the subject at hand and the discipline of the posture of my heart in the reality that God is the Creator and I am His created.
This was my beautiful epiphany which I will now begin to discipline myself in.
Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. -1 Thessalonians 5:16-18
That little phrase, "pray without ceasing" is something I haven't exactly practiced. Even this prayer of 7 years has been intermittent and lacking fervency. However, I realized as I was praying about this last night that the simple act of persistent prayer is about a continual "letting go" of the subject at hand and the discipline of the posture of my heart in the reality that God is the Creator and I am His created.
This was my beautiful epiphany which I will now begin to discipline myself in.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thoughts on the Big Two Five
slow reflections coursing through my mind
joy
heartache
gladness
melodic enthusiasm beating through my heart
anticipation
anxiety
wonderment
a twinge of excitement embraces my toes
curiosity
destiny
adventure
faith that envelopes the three
gratitude
praise
life
Next week marks the big 25 for me. Whoopty-doo. It's just another year, really. As the years pass the markers get a little less exciting. I can vote, I can buy a pack o ciggies, I can fight for my country, I can drink a beer after work, and this year my car insurance gets a little less expensive and I can rent a car. Thrilling.
I genuinely love my birthday, though. It's a time I can guilt trip my friends and family into being with me and not feel guilty about it. It's a time that I use to look into their faces and see what a beautiful impact they've made on my life; I couldn't do it without them.
I'm grateful for where I am. I'm thankful for the mistakes and successes, the joys and the times of grief. I'm glad that God continues to show me more of Who He Is as He shows me His faithfulness. I'm pleased to say that adventures are always on the horizon, whether they are a life change such as school or a random night time ski trip with a friend. I'm excited to enjoy the years ahead as I learn to deeply love others in a way that pleases God. I'm scared of some aspects of the life God has marvelously planned out for me; I realize it will not be easy. Like C.S. Lewis said, "We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be."
Pain has become something I fear less. Joy has become more difficult to grasp, but something deeply treasured and sought out. Life at any stage I admire with great intensity. Hearts lost in pain or filled with hope are the truth we live. Grace must abound, it was not created for us to simply receive. Human connection is poignant. Community is weighted more than gold. Success is not to be ours, but glory for God and service to Him. I regret nothing, instead I choose to be thankful for everything. I have yet to see certain dreams come to life, but I am not sad they seem to be delayed; I choose to wait in hopeful expectation.
Life has three beautiful parts: the has been, the will be, and the moments we choose how to fill now. I hope my heart continually remembers the importance of these.
joy
heartache
gladness
melodic enthusiasm beating through my heart
anticipation
anxiety
wonderment
a twinge of excitement embraces my toes
curiosity
destiny
adventure
faith that envelopes the three
gratitude
praise
life
Next week marks the big 25 for me. Whoopty-doo. It's just another year, really. As the years pass the markers get a little less exciting. I can vote, I can buy a pack o ciggies, I can fight for my country, I can drink a beer after work, and this year my car insurance gets a little less expensive and I can rent a car. Thrilling.
I genuinely love my birthday, though. It's a time I can guilt trip my friends and family into being with me and not feel guilty about it. It's a time that I use to look into their faces and see what a beautiful impact they've made on my life; I couldn't do it without them.
I'm grateful for where I am. I'm thankful for the mistakes and successes, the joys and the times of grief. I'm glad that God continues to show me more of Who He Is as He shows me His faithfulness. I'm pleased to say that adventures are always on the horizon, whether they are a life change such as school or a random night time ski trip with a friend. I'm excited to enjoy the years ahead as I learn to deeply love others in a way that pleases God. I'm scared of some aspects of the life God has marvelously planned out for me; I realize it will not be easy. Like C.S. Lewis said, "We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be."
Pain has become something I fear less. Joy has become more difficult to grasp, but something deeply treasured and sought out. Life at any stage I admire with great intensity. Hearts lost in pain or filled with hope are the truth we live. Grace must abound, it was not created for us to simply receive. Human connection is poignant. Community is weighted more than gold. Success is not to be ours, but glory for God and service to Him. I regret nothing, instead I choose to be thankful for everything. I have yet to see certain dreams come to life, but I am not sad they seem to be delayed; I choose to wait in hopeful expectation.
Life has three beautiful parts: the has been, the will be, and the moments we choose how to fill now. I hope my heart continually remembers the importance of these.
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