What was God thinking?

I ask myself this question on an almost daily basis. "What was God thinking when He sent me here?" As I think about my personality, the situations that I thrive in and the way that I envision my future path coming to pass, the intense stress that is the first semester of grad school doesn't quite fit. I don't thrive on competition or knowing I did something first. Being under intense deadline pressure doesn't produce my best work. I'm not satisfied with producing something and looking over it later with a shrug, thinking, "Well, it's not my best work, but I did the best I could with what I had." I can't manage stress through alcohol, cigarettes, food or sex. Even if I could, I don't have time for any of them. I'm not okay if I pull all-nighters or grab three hours of sleep just so I can meet a deadline. I can't skim a scholarly publication and fake my way through a literature review. I can't juggle. I'm even worse at multi-tasking. I don't know where I want to intern next summer, what classes I should take next semester, who my faculty advisor for my thesis/project should be or what I want to do when I graduate. I just got here, but supposedly I should have all of this figured out. I think part of the peace from my last entry had to do with the fact that I finally shut down from stress overload. I was in denial about what's due over the next month and the decisions I have to make in the next two weeks. I'm still not thinking about it. I'm on autopilot, living off of my lists. I still don't know the answer to my question at this point. I'm hoping that He lets me in on it sometime soon. At this juncture, I'm not even in a place where I think I'd hear Him if He did say anything about it. The ever-growing list of things I have to do that constantly rolls through my mind drowns everything else out these days.

Peace

There's this strange sense of peace that's settled over me in the last 24 hours. I'm not sure why now, when things are about to get incredibly (more) hectic, but it's there. I look at all of the things I have to accomplish over the next month and, for some reason, I know it will be okay. The list is pretty extensive. It's full of reading, papers, a massive lit review, meetings, multimedia projects, short-and-long-term decision making, non-stop grading, group projects ... the list goes on and on. Even as I type it, the peace is still there. I can tell people are praying for me. I know that there's only so much I can do in a 24 hour period. I trust that God has it all under control. There's no way I can plan what I'm doing next summer, next year or for my master's project. I can't even tell you where I'll be next week. And, God always has a better plan than the one I come up with. So, I think I'll continue to walk in this peace. It actually feels great. :o)

A few minutes for me

If I've talked to you recently, you know that this season of my life is pretty insane. I'm constantly amazed at how everything just gets done. In talking with a few other grad students, I realize that I'm taking three classes and have the equivalent of two part-time jobs. No wonder I'm always tired. This weekend, after spending three hours at a youth football game taking video footage for class, I was whining to my sister about this 700 word reflection paper I have due every Monday morning. I know what you're thinking - what's so bad about a 700 word paper? It's all about the content. You see, every week we get about 100 pages of journalism theory to read and analyze. In those 700 words I have to summarize key concepts of 3-4 articles, synthesize the material, then talk about what stood out to me. Oh, did I mention that there's a catch? In order to get an "A" on the paper, I have to apply my reflection to current news coverage and pull in outside material. In 700 words or less. Now do you feel my pain? I won't even mention the fact that before grad school I had little interest in news or politics (and still don't, to a large extent) and couldn't tell the difference between Fox News and MSNBC (and still can't, if you ask my sister). Yet in the midst of this, I'm seen as the student who has it all together, who consistently gets A's on her papers and assignments, and who was just recommended for a special project course under the supervision of a Pulitzer Prize winner. I stand amazed. If God is for me, who can be against me?

Rant Postponed

I decided to delete the rant I just wrote about all the stuff I have to get done before Monday and write about an experience I had this week instead. So, here goes. The library here in Columbia has a program called One Read. Hundreds of people in the community sign up to read a book that they voted for, then meet at intervals during the month of September to discuss it. This is their 10th year, and the book they chose was The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. The book is about a black woman in the 50s whose cancer cells were harvested without her consent or knowledge by doctors while she was a patient at Johns Hopkins Hospital. Those cells went on to become the foundation for some pretty big scientific breakthroughs, but the Lacks family was never told about it (or the millions of dollars that were made as a result of using her cells for research). Apparently, the book raises all kinds of questions - about medical ethics, the definition of a cell, racial taboos, repayment for injustice, and issues of race, class, and poverty during the time of segregation. And no one wants to go on the record to talk about it. I found myself wondering if, what was described to me as "the undercurrent of racism" in Columbia, has anything to do with why no one wants to talk with me on the record. To my ears, their comments about the book sound honest and deep. For someone with a set of filters that are colored by the history of discrimination against blacks in America, it could sound like something else. Since my skin is as brown as the next guy's, they can't know that I don't view the world through those filters because my family's history can't be traced through this land. So, I'm stuck. I have a story for deadline on Tuesday (my busiest day of the week) and only one voice willing to share with the city what her thoughts were. Amazingly enough, that one voice is a black woman who grew up in the time of Henrietta Lacks who felt like reading the book was a walk down memory lane. I guess I'll have to wait and see how God works this one out.

Paparazzi

I'm not sure that I've ever written here how much I hate the paparazzi. I hate the fact that I feel like I'm turning into one even more. This week I've been working on multiple photo assignments that have taken me into the community at large. The first one, which consisted of taking six portraits of people I'd never met and interviewing them wasn't so bad. The second one has got my stomach in knots. My assignment that's due tomorrow consists of capturing moments of life that the average person might miss. This is not an easy task anywhere, let alone in Columbia, Missouri. The first challenge is to find out where something interesting is already going on ... for free. The second is to invade someone's private space long enough to capture the image. The third is to take down their vital info so that it can be posted with accuracy. I was out at the park on Sunday, hoping to get an early start on Tuesday's assignment. While I was out there, I saw a little boy who was playing in the waterpark. I figured it was an action shot, it could work. So, I asked his mom if I could photograph him and she agreed. Then, he decided he didn't like this stranger taking his photo. I can't say I blame him. Then, I noticed two male police officers in uniform struggling to corral a 3 year old. Onlookers who'd been at the park said the kid wandered in unattended and jumped into the water. No one knew who or where his parents were, so they called the cops. I have to admit, the struggle to get the shirt on him would've made a great photo ... it looked like he was resisting arrest for a few minutes because he wanted to stay at the swimming hole. The photo of him walking out of the swimming area hand-in-hand with two male police officers would've been great as well. I didn't take either shot. You see, I still have this healthy fear of law enforcement that causes me to pause before making them angry. Plus, I couldn't help but feel ashamed for the parents of this kid who would soon be in the middle of some serious questioning and possibly a citation for negligence. On top of that, the three year old was a dark-skinned mixed kid who I didn't want the public to see as a future troublemaker being escorted around by cops. So, this is the internal struggle I'm sitting at my kitchen table, turning over in my head today. Part of me wished I'd taken the shots, because I wouldn't have to go back out today to look for moments to complete my assignment. I do have 40 pages to read and a reflective paper to write, after all. The other part of me wonders how to reconcile the fact that my newly chosen occupation means I'll have to insert myself into peoples' lives, sometimes when I'm not wanted there. And then there's the matter of upsetting local law enforcement. I'm not even sure how to tackle that one just yet.

Done.

I knew going into this weekend it would be a rough one. I was right.

Rather than focus on all the crap that's happened so far, I think I'll talk about the bright spots.

1) I have some incredible women who pray for me and believe that this step I've taken is the Lord. Their encouragement this weekend has been invaluable.

2) My God watches out for me. I learned a hard lesson the easy way this weekend when an editor caught a big mistake the reporter I was working with on a big story this weekend wrote before it went to print. I got a call from the main source for my story saying we did a fantastic job this morning. It could've easily been a phone call to cuss me out had they not caught it. Lesson learned: never put your name on anything you haven't read through all the way.

3) I got to hang out with a really cool photographer yesterday. We talked about more than photography, though. He tackled race relations in the U.S., religion (I think he's a non-practicing Jew and his wife is an athiest), MU classes, news reporting and the great outdoors. I'm fascinated by the people I get to meet on a daily basis.

4) I got my stuff out of storage on Friday. It's nice to have all my "stuff" in one place.

5) Best of all, I went to a meeting for Christian grad students on Thursday. I met some awesome people that I'm excited to get to know, plan to carve out an hour a week to meet for prayer and Christian community, and was super-excited to look around and see a bit of diversity in the room.

Now I've got to go write a paper that's due tomorrow so I can work on my Dreamweaver website building skills (for another class) in the morning.

Numb

I woke up this morning and realized that I didn't blog this weekend. I think this will be a common occurrence this semester.

Today marks the official beginning of the fall semester. I think I've reached a level on numbness in regards to what lies ahead.

My schedule is up in the air still due to dropping the International portion of my program. I realized that the focus of the international concentration was on news writing - politics, conflict, wars, etc. I'm hoping to focus on long-form narrative, features, culture and social justice issues. So, it wasn't a good fit.

At this point, I'm looking at 20-30 hours of work for just one of my courses. This doesn't count the research course I'm taking, or the cross-cultural journalism course I'm a teaching assistant for.

I've been trying to figure out where the numbness came in, and I think something my sister said helped me figure it out. The last two weeks ("boot camp", followed by one week of reporting for our local newspaper) were trial by fire.

I think the numbness is what comes after the burn.

New Direction

It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m still hibernating.

After the long week of writer’s boot camp (which I was required to attend before I could register for classes), I came home and haven't left my apartment since 7 p.m. Saturday. Since I’m staring into a week packed full of orientations (three, to be exact), newspaper reporter staffing, teaching assistant meetings and social gathering with my fellow journalism grad students, I thought it was best. I'm trying not to freak out over how little sleep I’m going to get over the next two years.

I can’t help that sleep is important to me.

Over the last week I’ve learned that grad school is going to be a lot more complicated and challenging than I expected. I knew that the classes were going to be more interactive and that I would be expected to get a firm grasp on more complex material. I expected for the professors to be more critical of us and expect more discussion in the classroom. I knew that in the end I would have to defend whatever project I chose to devote my last semester to.

For the sake of time and space, here is a list of what I didn’t expect:

• To not like news reporting. At all. In boot camp we mainly focused on news reporting because the city newspaper that’s published by the university will be staffed by us next week. I hated every minute of prep for news writing (which is not good, since I’m taking a required News Writing and Reporting course this semester).

• To find switching from academic or personal writing to news writing so difficult. It really does take a switch in the way you think, in addition to learning a whole new language called “AP Style”. The goal is to get to the point and use no unnecessary words. Great …

• To have the likelihood of academic politics thrown into the mix early on in regards to finding an advisor, mentor and graduate panel. As if the process wasn’t difficult enough.

• To be under scrutiny constantly by my professors. We’ve already been told that we will need to grow thick skin in order to survive and grow over the next two years. Some of the editors like yelling at students. One editor has already told us he will rewrite every sentence we write. Our graduate advisor let us know that she meets with students every semester who are crying over it and she has to remind them it’s not personal. Hmmm … guess I better get started on that.

• To feel like there’s not enough time in two years to learn everything I want to learn. I technically only have three semesters for class time. The final semester is set aside for my master’s project. Most students leave Columbia to do internships, so options for summer classes sparse. You need 37 hours to graduate and I have my eye on 46.

• To feel like one of the “old people”. I usually do a pretty good job of fitting in with all age groups, so this has been interesting. It’s not that I don’t look like them. I definitely don’t sound like them, but that’s not where the shocker lies. The problem is that I somehow missed part of the technology explosion. I’m definitely feeling the pinch of the learning curve when it comes to using a Mac. I’m not even going to talk about Twitter …

For the sake of time I’ll stop here since the venting session is getting kind of long. :o)

So, this is how the newest leg of the adventure begins. I plan to update this weekly, so if you’re interested in hearing how the world is going up here in the middle of nowhere, Missouri, please subscribe!

And so, it begins ...

So, the craziness that is grad school begins tomorrow. My J-School boot camp begins at 0900 and runs for two weeks. The goal is to try and catch me up to speed with Journalism jargon and concepts so that I can successfully tackle my graduate coursework.

I don't think it's possible.

Just in reading the text I'm wondering who this thing was written for. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of great information in it and most of it is interesting. I'm just trying to figure out how they're planning on cramming two years' worth of teaching into two weeks.

But, I'm not complaining. I secretly love being challenged.

Aside from that, I continue to stand amazed at God's provision of my scholarship and His direction in leading me to Mizzou (aka, The University of Missouri, aka MU ... don't ask because I haven't been able to figure it out).

I had the chance to talk with the graduate advisor last week and came out of that conversation so pumped about earning this degree. We actually narrowed down my area of concentration (International & Magazine Editing/Design) and she gave me some great insight on how to construct the curriculum for my program so that I get the most out of the next two years.

This doesn't mean that everything is figured out, of course. I've got my classes picked out for the Fall 2011 semester. She explained how my scholarship and fellowship worked. I've figured out that there are a lot of options open to me in regards to how many courses I graduate with, how I spend my summers, and what my masters project looks like.

In some ways I feel like she gave me a bit more rope to hang myself with.

But, then I remember that I am not the one leading this adventure. I choose to hang on to the hand that's leading me, trusting that He's got the next two years figured out. I get to watch and wait, listen and obey, step out and experience Him catching me once again.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't sense that I'm standing on the edge of something big. It feels like the key that was spoken of so many times in my early twenties is finally going to be revealed.

I can't wait to see what doors it opens. :o)

Counting My Blessings

I'm always amazed at where inspiration for a blog entry can come from. I was watching Triple D (Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives) with Guy Fieri when I saw a commercial for some disposable contact lenses. Interestingly enough, it didn’t make me want to buy anything … I have better than perfect vision. It did make me want to list things I’m grateful for, though (like better than perfect vision!).

So, here’s my top ten (in no particular order):

1. My personality. I’ve come to a place of understanding who I am and who God created me to be and I have to say that I love it! Growing up I saw my personality and innate tendencies as a deficit (because I was so different from my siblings and parents), but now I see that it is one of my greatest assets. I’m thankful for the paradigm shift!

2. My family. Anyone who has met them or heard me talk about them knows that I have the most amazing family in the world. While we’re quirky and have our “moments”, just like any family on the planet, we genuinely love each other. On top of that, we love spending time with one another!

3. Friends and the ability to build relationships. I have been extremely blessed in the friendship area. No matter where I move to or what is going on in my life, God brings people across my path who are just amazing! I’m always surprised at the quality of people I get to call “friend”.

4. The hope He’s given me for the future. I know that I’m destined for greatness because the enemy tried really hard to take me out at a young age. I can clearly remember a time when I had no hope for anything, so I’m truly thankful that I not only have dreams to look forward to, but that His plans for my life are so much bigger and better fitting than anything I could’ve come up with.

5. My house and the places I’ve lived. My parents have this really awesome house in Texas that is big, beautiful and home. Some friends refer to it as “the fortress”, but they all know that if they’re in town and need a place to stay (even if I’m not there), it’s open to them. On top of that, every place I’ve lived (Memphis, Denver, Joburg, D.C., and Kansas City) has become a different version of “home” to me. I love that I'm a nomad. :)

6. Adventure. I’m so thankful that God’s placed in me this adventurer spirit that enables me to do crazy things that other people normally would not do. To me, it makes my life more rich and less “average”, which I love.

7. Travel & Food. It almost seems wrong to lump these two together, but exploring foreign places and sampling the food I encounter along the way are two of the highlights of my life.

8. A healthy body. Besides being free of illness and disease, I have to say that I have a decent metabolism and love to exercise. I’m thankful that everything functions the way it’s supposed to and that random food allergies are the worst things I have to battle at 35.

9. My best friend. I seriously have the most amazing best friend in the whole world!!! She’s know me my whole life, actually gets me, we enjoy spending time together and I can honestly say she brings out the best in me. If she were a guy I would marry her in a heartbeat!! Too bad she’s my sister. ;)

10. God. My relationship with God is the foundation for my life. I know I wouldn’t be the same person I am today if I didn’t know Him personally. I still wish on an almost daily basis that I could crawl into His lap and just sit there for a while, but for now I’m content to seek Him out. So glad He never gives up on me.

Fear

I should’ve known that getting a massage from a licensed masseuse who also happens to be part of IHOP’s healing ministry would be an above average experience. I made the appointment this week because I’ve been having issues with my back for over a week now, and then to top if all off I tripped and fell hands first while jogging last week. Let’s just say I wasn’t in great shape.

While Mary was working on my back, we chatted a bit. I noticed that there were some tender areas that she kept touching on (just around my left shoulder blade), and they weren’t getting better … if anything, they were getting worse! When I mentioned that to her, she said that as she was praying she felt that there might be some fear caught up in this area and asked me to pray about it.

I didn’t need to pray about it. I knew right away what she meant.

You see, for the past week or so I haven’t been sleeping well. I’ve been having these nightmares … ones that I haven’t had since before I left for Africa. While the location or characters may differ, the situation is always the same. I’m in some area of Africa, where I start out hanging with people I know and am comfortable around. Then the scene changes and I’m being pursued by someone (usually one or more males) that I can sense has some sinister motive for catching me – usually assault or murder. The challenge once I figure out where things are headed is to wake myself up before he gets to me.

I usually wake up tense, with a racing heartbeat and unable to breathe – paralyzed by fear and unable to go back to bed because I know the dream will morph and repeat itself. Or, worse, thoughts start rushing my head as I think about the scenario happening in real life now that God’s got me living alone.

In addition to the nightmares, my fear of commitment reared it’s ugly head this week as well. After a month of making trips between Kansas City and Columbia, trying to sort out this housing thing, I was at the point of signing a lease on my #2 choice. You know, a one year commitment to live in one place with legal and financial repercussions if I find that I hate it after the first month. It wasn’t pleasant to think about.

Can you guess what thought always comes to mind? “What if something better comes along and I miss it because I jumped the gun with this place?”

And then there’s the need for me to choose an area of concentration for my masters coursework. I tell everyone that I plan to study International Journalism, but what if that’s not the best fit? What if I’m supposed to do Magazine Writing, Editing or Design with an international focus? Or, am I supposed to include PhotoJ? I’m beginning to think that the 20+ areas of concentration for the J School isn’t such a good thing, especially since I have no idea what the ending career goal that God has in store for me actually is.

Because, what if I choose International Journalism, then can’t find a job afterwards because my interests don’t lean to the political aspects of reporting? Or, what if I don’t have what it takes?

Which brings us to yet another area of fear - what if I fail? I can’t think of anything that I’ve tried to do that I’ve failed at. Well, I think there was a lemon pound cake I tried to bake one time that bombed. But, how serious is that? Now, embarking on a blind journey into a competitive graduate program, but not getting the components for success quite right … that’s a different ball game. I’m jumping off the ledge (once again) into some murky waters, trusting not only in the current of God’s plan to take me where He wants me to be, but also that He will impart what’s needed to succeed.

Why does everyone else seem to think I can do this, when I don’t?

Which leads to fear of the unknown. This one seems to be a recurring theme in my life, considering how many times the Lord has asked me to step out in faith for Him. The truth is that all I know is that He’s opened this door to grad school and said that in pursuing this, all of the steps I’ve taken in the past (my undergrad, YWAM, my love for South America, the move to Africa) will be pulled together.

What does that look like vocationally? I have no idea. How am I supposed to explain that to deans, advisors and professors who expect me to have some sort of idea? Not a clue.

I won’t even touch on the whole marriage commitment thing … I’ve pushed that one aside until it steps into my face in the form of a flesh and blood hottie who says that he wants to spend the rest of his life loving God, loving each other, loving the people God brings across our paths, and traipsing around the world together. It just opens up a whole other dialog box of things I’d rather not think about right now.

All of these areas of fear have been swirling around in my head over the last few weeks as I try to sort out the details of the (not so distant) future.

No wonder I had issues with stress, headaches and pinched nerves in my back.

On that massage table I gathered up all of these areas of fear and placed them in His hands. I asked Him to remind me that He is for me, that He knows me better than I know myself, that this is His idea, and that He will be faithful (as always) in the midst of the coming challenges.

Then I breathed a sigh of relief as I placed my hands in His and promised that I would continue to learn what it looks like to walk in His perfect love.

Housing 101

A new season is on the horizon.

I’ve been admitted, secured my scholarship, been hired for an assistantship … now to tackle housing and figure out how to make some money until school starts.

I’m hoping to move out of Kansas City and into Columbia by the end of the month. At this point (April 20th), I don’t have any firm accommodation plans…just a few possibilities. We’ll see what little miracle God puts together in the form of housing!

Even as I’ve toyed with the idea of getting my own place, I know that would not be the healthiest option for me. I need people. I need to know that there’s another living soul that shares my space – someone who I can share a mealtime with every once in a while, who can give me a fresh perspective on life and all that goes on in their (very different) head.

The problem is that I don’t know anyone in Columbia. My ideal setup would be a house or condo within walking distance of campus that’s home to 2 other Christian girls who are graduate students or professionals. As I’m doing my search, it’s pretty evident that things are done a bit differently in this college town. Quite a few of the places are co-ed. Living with someone around my age seems to mean that there’s a significant other who will occasionally sleep over. It’s tough to determine if the “two women already sharing the house” are a lesbian couple. To be near campus (within a short walking distance) means that you’re probably looking at a cracker box apartment with thin walls and noisy neighbors. And no one puts anything about being a Christian or seeking a Christian housemate online.

At this point, I realize that this is completely out of my hands. There is literally nothing I can do to make this happen! It sounds like pretty much every area of my life at the moment.

Processing...

I was in the prayer room yesterday, processing some recent conversations with my sister. To say that my family doesn’t understand me or the way I live my life is an understatement. I’ve been told that they aren’t so sure of this new direction my life has taken and don’t necessarily get what the point of my pursuing a MA in Journalism.

And here I was thinking they’d be excited that I was showing an interest in higher education. Wrong.

I know that my parents would love it if I settled down somewhere, got a decent paying job that provided benefits, build up a retirement package, got married, bought some property, had a few kids and did what everyone else in America does. It’s why we moved to this country, after all.

And, while I get that this is their desire for me, I can’t seem to just do it. As much as I would love to be making money, paying my own bills, enjoying the freedom that is the “American Dream”, God has other plans for me at the moment.

This would be the problem with giving the reins of your life over to God … what you would like to do, what other people think you should do and what He has in store don’t always line up.

I’ve come to know that choosing to please Him over all others means that there are going to be some people – at times some key people – in my life who will be disappointed in me. Trust me when I say that that’s a tough pill to swallow at times for this people-pleasing youngest kid who has desired all her life that her parents truly knew her and accepted her just the way she was. It's tough being the oddball in your family. :)

As I sat in the prayer room yesterday, I caught a glimpse of God’s face … He was smiling at me, telling me that I brought joy to His heart. That He can look at me – and see the depths of who I am – and still say that brought tears to my eyes. He knows me better than I know myself and is delighted by what He finds there. I still have trouble believing it sometimes, but I know that look ...

I’ve decided to cut my parents (and even my brothers) a bit of slack. At times I look at the seemingly zig-zagged path that is my life and wonder what in the world God is doing. If I, who know and hear Him, have those moments of panic, disappointment and uncertainty, how can I expect them to “get it”?

Besides, I felt like God said that it would be impossible for them to see things from His perspective and be excited for the journey until they’re with Him.

I guess the same goes for me.

School and Stuff

Wow, I need to update my blog more often ... it's been too long!

Here's the scoop on what's been happening with me:

~ I got into the University of Missouri's Journalism graduate program. Yay!

~ I received a scholarship that covers my tuition, housing and medical insurance. Double Yay!

~ I've narrowed down the areas of concentration for my program to four possibilities - Convergence Journalism, International Journalism, Magazine Editing or Strategic Communications. Whew!

~ I'm currently looking for housing in Columbia near the university so I don't have to spend tons on gas or parking. I'm hoping the Lord provides some miracle in this area just like He's been doing with the rest of this endeavor!

~ I'd like to move at the end of April, find some form of work and save money to help cover the estimated $11,000 that will be needed for me to live off of during the year.

Do I even need to tell you that I'm excited about this new leg of the adventure?!?! I stand amazed as I get to see God provide for the direction I felt Him leading last year. It also helps me know that this crazy, slightly scary, almost irrational new direction that I'm heading in is not my idea, but one that He planted in me.

It's just one more way that I can be used by Him! So excited. :o)

Hope

I’ve been battling a bit of hopelessness lately. I remember hearing my pastor here in KC say that if hopelessness is on the rise in your heart, then somewhere your view of God and His character are out of alignment.

You can say that again.

Most of the hopelessness has come at the hands of hearing about the prophesied coming “fall” of America and life as I know it. Hearing His direction for school, Journalism, marriage and the future He has in store for me, then weighing it against what is being said just doesn’t add up in my brain. To be honest, it’s brought confusion and a bit of anger. I had to deal with the old man trying to rise up again, saying that He is not good and that He has dangled this beautiful picture of an adventurous life in front of my face, only to ask me to “hold that dream lightly” because it may not happen.

My friend Heather invited me to an IHOP conference called The Stand, which is a gathering of the African American Forerunner Alliance. In the midst of worship with Cory Asbury yesterday, God caused a swelling of hope to rise up in me. This came after hearing word after word of what the leaders of IHOP are sensing is to come out of the black church in America in the coming days … leadership, service, strength, family, community, nightwatch prayer, even them taking the prayer movement into the next phase and eclipsing what others have done … things I’ve never heard before in relation to black people in America.

I'll be honest and admit that I don't identify with African Americans for the most part, so I wasn't overly excited about going to this conference. I was brought up in a West Indian home and was reminded often while growing up in American schools that I was different. I don't carry the scars of slavery or racism in my veins. My family had little angst in forging relationships with white people ... I actually heard more about staying away from Indians in my youth. And, I was never told that I couldn't be or do something simply because of the color of my skin.

I love that God can use anything - any situation, any person, any thing - to meet with us.

This weekend's conference provided a perspective shift for me that was much needed. Gotta love when God does that for you when you didn’t even think to ask, because all I did was show up and welcome Him in.

Loved

Today was my last day at the funeral home. Yay! It was a bit sad to say goodbye to the people I’ve been working with for the last five months, but I’m excited about the prospect of a new beginning, a new season.

I have to admit that I felt really loved and blessed as I left. I got a bouquet of flowers, a really good cake, some Otis Spunkmeyer cookies, a candle (“for my new apartment”), and some headbands from various people. And, of course, many well wishes for a bright and prosperous future.

It all highlights to me that this life really is about the relationships you build along the way and the people you’re blessed to know – for however long or short a period.

:o)

I found out earlier this week that my season of employment with the funeral home is officially over on Monday. I thought for several weeks that I would continue working with Mark until I go off to school, but that fell through. So, I’m soon to be jobless!

I have to admit that I feel a strange sense of peace surrounding the whole thing. I know that I’ve given it my best, in spite of being in one of the craziest atmospheres EVER. I also know that the people I’ve been able to work with and spend time with were impacted by my being there (LIGHT in teh midst of darkness!!! Yay!!!). And, I know that I’ve been stretched a bit in the midst of it all.

And now I’m looking forward to finding work where I get to focus on the living rather than the dead. No wonder there’s a smile on my face when others seem to be frowning.

Contentment

I sometimes wonder if I will ever be completely content with where I am in life. I’m not talking about what car I drive, or what house I live in, or even the salary that I make … I’m thinking more along the lines of where I live (geographically) and the quality of my relationships.

I’ve been missing Africa lately. I don’t miss the kids, the work I did there, or the crazy situations I was able to get myself into in regards to the men there, but I do miss the relationships that I was able to build outside of ministry and the sense of belonging that was there (in spite of the fact that I technically didn’t belong).

I miss the church, with its African flair, engaging worship, and the sense of community that I felt every time we met. I can remember many a Sunday or Tuesday (staff meeting) when it took me 30-45 minutes just to get to the parking lot because there were people I had to speak with along the way.

I miss my connect group, where I got to be challenged in my walk with the Lord AND laugh like crazy at the antics of the people I was privileged to walk alongside. I miss the fact that we loved spending time with each other so much that we would even meet when home group was cancelled, just because it felt like something was missing. I absolutely loved bringing new people to that group because I knew that they would be welcome and loved from the minute they walked into the room.

I miss the group of friends that would come together most weekends to do something fun, just because we could. I miss the fact that although I had amazing girl friends (which is usually the majority of my circle of friends), I also had an equal amount of guy friends who would give up their Friday or Saturday evening to play around town. I really miss godly single men who were unafraid of building relationship with us single chics, even if it meant we weren't necessarily going to marry any of them. There’s a sense of balance that came with those relationships that I haven’t felt in a while.

Did I mention the hugs?

Ok, back on track ... finally, I really do miss the thrill of living in surroundings that challenge my sense of what is “normal”. Even though I may complain about how uncomfortable adjusting to another culture may be, I know that living in South Africa brought about tremendous change in my heart and development of my character. It makes me smile a little brighter when I think about the fact that adaptability is one of my God-given strengths and that, looking back on this season, I get to see tangible fruit of that in my life.

I realized a long time ago that I was created for community. I’m not one who is able to walk through life “going it solo” … I need healthy, engaging people and a stable, positive environment for it to be well with my soul. I don’t look at this as a flaw or weakness anymore … it’s just the way God made me – 100% original – and I actually am really happy that He did.

I do, however, need to reconcile in my heart and mind how the changes in how I “do” relationship as a result of my time there can be reconciled with where I am during this season of my life. Maybe contentment will come when I do.