I Can't Stop Smiling

How is it that I've been living in San Pedro for over a month already? It's so strange, because I don't feel like I've been here that long. In fact, time has lost it's pace and I feel like I haven't lived here for long and also like I've always lived here. I'm not sure what all that means, but it makes me think that I must be adjusting well to my new life.

I love school. I love my kids and I love what I do everyday. For so long I've struggled with this notion of joy, and now, I feel that while I don't completely understand what joy is, I'm living joyfully. I wake up in the morning excited to go to Las Palmas, I'm excited to see the kids and give them hugs and high fives. I'm excited to see my fellow employees and smile at them in the hall. I love watching the parents bring their kids to school.

And this isn't to say that everyday doesn't have it's challenges. It's not all peaches and cream. But the excitement I feel everyday outweighs the challenges. And besides, if there wasn't something everyday to challenge me and make me think, I wouldn't be happy. The adventure that I'm living right now is made by these challenges. Yes, sometimes the kids don't listen or they can't keep their hands to themselves, but this is where I'm suppose to be and these kids have become my ministry. Its not where I pictured myself serving, but I love it anyway.

I feel like this is such a mushy blog, but I can't help this excitement in me. I can't stop smiling to people that I see. And I love the effect that smiling at people can ripple. They smile back and its beautiful. It makes me happy. I met a guy at the store the other day when I was in line for the ATM. It had been raining, and I had gotten soaked on my motoconcho, and the line was halfway through the store. But I smiled at everyone. The guy in front turned away and thanked me for smiling even though it would appear that I was in a situation that would make most people frown. This is why I smile at people. They notice. It makes me think that Christ is showing and that's what I want people to see.

I just sometimes can't believe how much joy I feel right now. My birthday is in a few days, and normally I hate my birthday. It's just another reminder that my life isn't going according to plan; an anniversary of "dear autumn, you fail as a person", but this year I'm looking forward to my birthday. I feel excited for it knowing that perhaps I'm not exactly in the place I want to be, I'm where God wants me to be. And for that, I'll smile.

Where Are My Poems?

Last night as I was praying myself to sleep, God whispered to me that I hadn't written Him any poems lately. And He was right. And as I laid in my bed with the noise of the street below me, He became my muse and inspired me on the topic to write about Him. But as I sit here and type, I cannot remember what that inspiration was. It makes me sad. I feel like I now owe Him two poems. And as soon as I can remember, I shall sit down and work on both of them with an overflowing heart.

The Missionary Adventure Begins

So I have arrived to San Pedro. It was a long day getting here. It was a long time getting to this point in the total spectrum, but that's another blog. In fact, that's already been blogged. However, the day I left West Virginia to get to where I am at now was just as long. I thought I was ready, I was packed, I had prayed this up, I had an apartment waiting for me in the Dominican, and yet, things weren't as easy as I imagined.

I cried. I cried almost the whole way from Charleston to New York. The only reason I stopped cry was because I fell asleep on the plane. I woke up just in time to see the statue of Liberty and the New York skyline lit up against the morning sun. It was beautiful, but I was sad. And I was terrified. I kept thinking that I had made the wrong decision, that my Grandmother had been right and I wasn't as grown up as I thought. I prayed and prayed asking God to let me know that this was were I was suppose to be going. In my heart, God kept repeating, "you promised". That simple little phrase over and over. "You promised" Was that all the bread I would be given that day? Apparently yes as every time I teared up, all I would think was, "you promised". Most of the day passed in this way, I would cry, God would remind me, I would take a deep breath and be still till I cried again. All in all, it I was glad that I had decided to wear a scarf that day since it became my tissue.

In this state I arrived in Santo Domingo. As we sat on the runway making our way to the terminal, I bowed my head and told God that this was it. I was here, and it was time to toughen up and trust in Him. I had made a promise after all. And God doesn't make or take promises lightly. Ask Jesus, God follows through on what He says, and as His children, we need to understand and follow His example. And those were my last tears.

As I worked my way through customs and the baggage claim area I felt happier and stronger with each step. As I met Wendy and we got in our van to take the hour ride to San Pedro, I felt even better. Once we crossed the bridge into the city, I asked myself how could I possibly been so foolish to think that this wasn't where I was suppose to be? I love this city. I love living and being here. I love the people, I love the culture.

I know now that I made the right decision. I'm just a little hard headed and stubborn when it comes down to the grit of it.

Yesterday, I stood on my balcony and watched the traffic and people below. It was strange to think that a decision and commitment that I made in 2007 in a little room in Costa Rica would finally come full circle. I promised God I would be a missionary. I promised Him I would go where He wanted to send me. I promised Him my service. And here I am today. I am a missionary to the Dominican Republic in San Pedro. And while I'm scared, I'm willing. This morning in church, Pastor Gary spoke about putting your faith and trust in God in whatever situation you find yourself in. I'm putting a lot of faith and trust in God. Every day it's an adventure of what God will bring. He's my financial support, He's stands at the bottom of the steps to my apartment and makes sure that no one who has no business on my steps stays off of them, He's riding beside me on motoconchos, He's my tongue and my ears. He's my everything because I can do nothing without Him. And I don't even want to try. Which is a good thing for me to do. As Pastor Lemming quoted one day from Charles Stanely, "obey God and leave the consequences to Him". And right now, that's my plan.

Two Days To San Pedro

I leave to move to the Dominican Republic in less than two days. The one word I can think of to describe what I'm feeling right now is surreal. I am so excited to be on my own and work at Las Palmas doing what God has called me to do, but at the same time I am terrified to be on my own and work at Las Palmas doing what God has called me to do. It's a strange place to be, and it's even stranger sitting here on my couch watching King of the Hill while waiting for my laundry to finish knowing that in two days I'll be sitting in San Pedro listening to motoconchos whizzing past my windows.

I keep thinking that I hope I made the right decision. There's part of me that worries that somehow this is a mistake. However, then I am reminded of Romans 10 and a promise I made in 2007 while in Costa Rica. I promised God I would go to the mission field when He called me to go, and here we are. Not to go would be in direct disobedience to what I promised to God. The Christian life is a life that has to be lived in obedience to God. Not to go, in my mind is a sin and a step back in my walk with Christ. And all of this is not to leave someone thinking that I don't want to go, by all means no! I love missions, I love working in ministry, and I love the thought of a spanish mission field. But I know that desire/want does not equal out to fulfillment without action.

I guess the hardest part of all this is that I never wanted to go alone. Never. I always imagined myself going to the mission field with my husband. It would be our dream and our calling together. Now I find myself quite the unclaimed blessing leaving everything to pursue God. But isn't that what God has been teaching me for so long? How can I expect myself to chase God if I won't do it alone? God wants a relationship with me, not me and Mr. me. For me, it's scarier to go alone, but it's also more adventurous. And isn't that what I've been craving for months?

I just pray that I don't disappoint God. And I pray that I will learn to be content by His Presence alone. I also pray that Mr. me will be revealed soon, and that I would be the woman that was worth waiting to find.

I Shall Wear Midnight

i shall wear midnight
wrapping it like a silky shawl
strands slipping and sliding
across my smooth shoulders

i shall steal the moon
slide it slowly on my finger
like a wedding ring
sparkling radiance on my hand

i shall pluck the brightest stars
weaving them in the strands
of my space swept hair
dusty glitter gleaming

i shall dance on Saturn's icy rings,
dip my toes in the creamy milky way,
i shall span the entire galaxy,
stopping short of the end.

i shall run between moonbeams
leap across the dark side
bouncing into the weightless atmosphere
backstroke from Mars to Pluto


and i shall wear midnight

What's Holding Me Back....

My head and heart have been a whirlwind of thoughts and prayers lately. I feel that the opportunity of a lifetime is before me, and I have one hurdle holding me back.

My family.

My heart has been so torn in two these past few days especially. I told dad about working at the palms for about nine months; he got quiet. he asked a few questions, which I tried to answer, knowing that nothing I could say would be what he wanted to hear. At the end of it all he simply said, "If you do this, will it get it out of your system?" as if the mission field and the Dominican haven't been in my system since my first trip. I wanted to get defensive, but I held my tongue.

Telling mamaw was even worse. She said I wasn't grown up enough, I wouldn't like it, and I hadn't forgiven my mother. That last one was close to home; I can't shake that one. Then she said the one thing that I knew she felt every time I get close to the idea of not living at home. "You’re just running". Yes, I’ve tried to run before, to Liberty, but it slammed in my face. I knew I was running then, knew it, and wasn't ashamed. But this time, it's different. This is an opened door, not a forced one. And I don't feel like I’m running this time. This time, I know that while I’m not the best choice and that I still have many things to work on, that God wants me.

I went to a video conference the weekend before last. Priscilla Shirer was the speaker. She mentioned a time in her life where her hair started to fall out and the emotional pain and stress it caused her. I could sympathize all too well with how she felt. My fingers on my right hand reached up to stroke my hair, the baby hairs on my crown where they were growing back. I remembered how I would be in the shower or brushing my hair, and those same fingers would run through and come out with a clump that should have been attached to my head. I remember holding back tears as I would try to wash all my fallen hair down the drain, but it was wrapped around my hand, or standing over the trash can everyday cleaning off my brush because of all the strands attached to it. I knew all too personal where Priscilla was going with this topic.

She spoke about coming to the point where it was pointless to save it; she would have to have it all chopped off. She said that she got into her car and began to drive to the salon, thinking only of her hair. She then heard the Holy Spirit speak to her. He said, "Priscilla, if you will give me what you damaged, I know I gave it to you whole and beautiful, but now its damaged beyond repair, if you give that to me, I'll give it back to you abundantly" she went to talk about the peace that overcame her as her hair was cut off, the whole time shaking her mass of long, beautiful, healthy curls that adorned her head. God can surely take what is damaged, restore it, and give it back abundantly. We just have to give it in the first place.

And as I think about that story, I have to think beyond the surface of my hair falling out and growing back, but my life in general. I have always described my life, my family, everything about me as broken. Whenever I set my hand to the plow, the plow will shatter. It was even my word on my pencil for the Mexico mission trip. What would happen if I gave everything broken and damaged in my life to God? How would it look once restore and returned abundantly? Think of the autumn He would have to glorify Him. She would be His. But that's not correct; she is already His. She has already been restored and returned abundantly. I carry God inside me.

I read once that this little girl asked her mom if God was bigger than the little girl. The mom told her that God was of course bigger than the little girl. So the little girl thought and asked her mom if God lived inside of the little girl. The mother replied again that of course God lived inside her; He lives inside all His children. The little girl thought again then asked, "If God is bigger than me, but lives inside of me, shouldn't He spill out of me?"

Of course He should. How else should we live but to have God and Christ spill out of us? To think that He couldn't is to negate His omnipotence, and to think that He wouldn't negate His omniscience.

But I feel like falling further and further away from the topic at hand. Will I go to the Dominican for nine months? Will I be the librarian at lass Palmas? I feel like I’m writing the cliffhanger for a bad comic book cartoon. But it's the truth. I’m standing on the edge of a cliff where falling leads to life as a missionary, but with hurt family on the mountain. Should I hurt them or myself? Because I feel like to stay here would be to condemn myself to my own misery and failure. I could live the adventure I’m been praying for, or I could stay here waking up with no more purpose then not to wreck my car that day. That’s no life to live, and I know that.

The bottom line: why does the one thing that makes this decision difficult comes from the very people who should be supporting and cheering me on the hardest? How bad is it to be backstabbed and tripped up by your cheerleaders? Talk about deadly pom-poms.

It makes me glad that God brought Deuteronomy 31:6 to me; its just want I need to hear from Him: "be strong and courageous. Do not fear or be in dread of them. For it is the Lord your God that goes with you. He will not leave or forsake you."

Hallelujah and amen.

woman of the wind

her hair is charcoal

with shimmery streaks of gray.

a whipping, whirling

wild woman

cloaked in wind

and rain.

dancing with lithe trees

that bend and sway

never quit able to keep up,

bowing to her,

admitting defeat,

she sweeps their crowns

of green and gold,

red and orange,

into her arms

and throws them back.

Regarding Mr. Lewis

I'm in the middle of reading Robert Lewis's book, New Eve, and I have to say that I am having a lot of trouble taking what he says seriously. In this book he is trying to teach women what it means to be a woman by studying Eve. Unfortunately Mr. Lewis spends too very little time on Eve as a woman. For me, his book is yet another foray into this type of feminism tittled "New Feminism" which links womanhood explicitly with being a wife and motherhood.

Now my criticism does not lie with marriage and motherhood, not in the least, but I do have a problem with linking womanhood only to marriage and motherhood. It leaves a gapping hole for women who are single and childless. And while Lewis and many other New Feminist state that single woman with no children can become "spiritual mothers" to those around them, it doesn't seem as if this is enough. Now none of the information or writers that I have looked at says this in black and white, but one gets the feeling that spiritual mothers are not exactly equal to real mothers. This leads me to wonder over and over: if I am not a wife or a mother, am I not a woman? To which I have to say, absolutely not. It seems even ridiculous to me that even an idea can exist. However, it does. And its on that lately I've been coming against.

In his book, Mr. Lewis lists three core truths for a woman (at least one that is trying to be a new Eve). These core truths are: leave and cleave, be fruitful and multiply, and to advance God's kingdom. Now while I believe that these three things are necessary for any woman that is a believer of God, I do not think that they are the most important three of a woman's life (the last one is something that all believers have been charged with keeping). Why isn't a relationship with God, knowing who you are in God, knowing what God has created you to do part of a woman's core calling? I understand that Mr. Lewis is using Eve, but he, like so many other writers and thinkers, only start Eve's life when she is brought to Adam. The Bible, on the other hand, states that Eve had an existence before Adam.

Genesis 2:22 says, "And the rib that the LORD God had taken from the man he made into a woman and brought her to the man." The Bible tells us that God brought woman to man after woman was made. Therefore there was a time in the life of Eve that she did not know Adam. I have been wondering over this past week what that time would have been like for Eve. Was this the time that she spent knowing her God? Was this her bonding time with her Creator?

I have always loved to imagine the creation of Eve. I always picture her appearing in the shade of trees, in a clearing. It is a private place where no one else is allowed for this moment. There's a slight wind, the breath of God wavering over this place waiting for her to stir, waiting for her to open her eyes. But her's is a patient God, He will wait for her to come to life here in this place that has been set apart for only the two of them. She inhales, her lungs tasting and processing air for the first time. She moves her head, she twitches her fingers and toes, the first of their kind. She opens her eyes and turns her head. Has she heard something? Then she realizes that she has had a thought. They begin to flood her, but not to weigh her down, but instead link her more with the new world around her. Someone is telling her to stand. It is a voice that invites her to find Him, a voice kind and authoritarian though she knows nothing of either word at this moment. All she knows is that this is a voice that speaks to her at her core. It is a voice that she wants to find, to follow, to commit too. She figures out that she possess the ability to move. She sits up and discovers her hands, following them down to her arms. Her hands move over her body, not knowing what it is, but knowing that its her's. She is the ultimate baby. Her toes fascinate her, her legs something long and attached to her feet. "Stand" the voice whispers in excitement. She has never stood before, has never seen anyone stand, and yet she staggers to her feet, drawing herself up to her full height. She smiles in delight. She lifts up her head to the tree tops and squints at the slants of light finding their way through the leaves. Another word comes to her ears, "walk". What is walking, she suddenly knows. She moves a foot, lifting it in the air, and putting it down further then where it was. The next foot throws her off balance, and she stumbles, falling down into the moss under her feet. She's not hurt; there is no pain in this place. Nonetheless, the voice fills the clearing, washing over her, encouraging her to try again. She likes the voice. Ever since she became it had been calling to her. Telling her how beautiful she was, how much he loved her. She had no knowledge of beauty or love, but she knew this voice. It lived in her being; it was a part of her soul and essence. It's words were her sustainment and livelihood.

This is what I like to imagine when I think of Eve. I like to think of her alone with God. I like to think of her in this private place with only her Creator. Perhaps this is the point in her life that we as women today need to identify with first. Perhaps as women of God today, we need to get to this place where all we know and breath is God. Before we can meet our Adam, we have to experience our God on a personal level that cuts us to the very essence of ourselves. Eve isn't woman until she meets Adam. Before that she is a creation of God. She is His and no one else. I think this and all I can conclude is that I am God's first and man's second. Therefore my core callings pertain to God first and to man second. That means that marriage and motherhood fall in the silver pedestal while God takes the gold. To me, this is what it means to be a New Eve. It means loving God first and letting Him fill me till I overflow.

And in light of that, I cannot agree with Mr. Lewis. Not in the least.

Kitchen Braveheart

*bad work in progress

The party was picking up. People were mingling, laughing, flirting, and doing all the other activities that make human interaction interesting.

Heathcliff slung back the last his punch and clutched his empty cup near his stomach. He was pretending to be interested in the conversation circling him, but the truth was his eyes were searching the room looking for her. She had disappeared a little while ago with a couple of dirty plates and cups, and hadn't returned to the crowd. Heathcliff had been to quite a few other functions with this same group, and he noticed that it never failed for this girl to disappear and not be seen till the very end of the festivities. He wondered where she went and what she did. Her unusual party habits had struck a nerve with him.

As for the girl herself, she wasn't particularly striking. A little on the chubby side, with brown hair trying to be passed off as auburn. Her teeth were a little crooked, but her smile and laugh lit up her face when she allowed it too. However, Heathcliff loved her eyes. They were blue and they betrayed her emotions more than she could have known. When she was happy, they burned like stars at the birth of an evening. When she was annoyed, they pierced like arrows. But when she was sad, they betrayed her the most. Sadness seemed to flow out of her eyes like a raised river during a heavy rain. It would flood her. Sometimes she would try to hide those eyes, but that just betrayed her all the more. Heathcliff had observed all of this and hid it to himself. Sometimes it made him feel creepy watching her like he did, but he couldn't help it. She mystified him on a number of levels. He decided that this would be the night when he took an active role in his study of this girl.

Detaching himself from a conversation he wasn't really a part of, he took his empty cup to the kitchen,where standing at the sink was the girl. She was running water and squeezing soap, a pile of dishes waiting to be washed on the counter. Heathcliff could only imagine that the water filling up the sink reflected the color of her eyes as she stared into its depths. Spotting the trash can beside the door leading from the kitchen to the dining room beside him, he threw his cup away as noisy as he could, even going so far to shake the bag to make more room for the trash he didn't have. She turned off the water and turned to look at him. Heathcliff didn't move and she smiled at him. It was a smile that said, "I'm-not-as happy-at-seeing-you-as-I-look-but-I'm-going-to-be-friendly". Seeing that he wasn't going to leave, she asked him if he needed anything.

Heathcliff saw this as the perfect place to make his move. He put his hands in his pockets and sauntered over to the sink. Placing one hand on the counter he looked at her. She was staring at him, slight apprehension and puzzlement on her face.

He looked down. "Well, aren't you just the Martha?" he asked her smiling, trying to prove that the question was as jovial as he was.

She shrugged and turned back to the sink. The water had filled it halfway and the soap was billowing on the surface. She picked up a few of the plates and dropped them in with care.

"Perhaps"was her only verbal reply.

"Do you need any help?"

"No, I'm fine." she said without hesitation but with a hint of a sigh. Her hands were moving through the water, one of them holding a scrubbing brush the other reaching for a plate. She proceeded to wash it, moving the brush around the plate, from the outside to the inside, following some internal rhythm.

"I don't mind to help. You wash and I'll dry. Then you can get back to socializing with everyone out there." Heathcliff said as he looked for a towel.

She didn't look at him, but instead held the plate she had just washed and said to it, "That's very nice, but I don't want you to miss out on talking to everyone"

Heathcliff tried not to laugh at her stubbornness and secretly applauded her for the subtlety she had used to get him to leave her. "I rather help you then talk to everyone else."

This one caught her attention. She handed him the washed plate, but didn't let it go when Heathcliff took hold of it. Staring at his collarbone she said, "You would rather help me? No one ever wants to help me. No one ever seems to notice that I need help."

Her hand dropped from the plate and reached through the soap and water to grab another. Heathcliff dried it and put it to the side. He wasn't sure what to say to this. But before he could, she stiffened up and started to wash another dish. "You know, someone has to wash the dishes and clean up the trash, and I don't mind to do it. It allows everyone else to relax and have fun." She sounded as if she was trying to cover up what she had said before.

Heathcliff didn't say anything. He could feel that whatever he said at this point would be dismissed. Instead he finished helping her with the dishes. As she wiped down the counters with a cloth he leaned against the fridge. She always seemed so sad. Heathcliff had noticed this every time they were at an activity together. She needed something from outside of herself. Why did she seem to be fighting the world from the inside. She needed someone to fight for her. She needed a braveheart. And what was more, he wanted to be that braveheart. He had a moment where he imagined himself smearing his face with blue paint, and ridding out on a horse to prove that he was worthy to fight for her.

She had finished the counter, and was folding the dish towels on the corner of the sink. "Well... thank you for your help, I guess now we can get back to the party." she said.

Heathcliff wasn't ready to leave just yet. He finally had a moment alone with her and he wasn't going to let that go. His mind hurtle through quick small talk topics, but none seemed right. He bit his lip trying to think and panic when he saw her give him a nod and turn to leave through the door.

"Wait!" It was desperate, and Heathcliff felt the pressure even more when this made her stop and look at him.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Uhm... Uhm...I've been wanting to ask you...Uhm... Uhm... What's your favorite book?" It was lame and he knew it. But he might not have another chance this evening to talk to her one on one.

She smiled and her face went soft. "Jane Eyre. I love her and Mr. Rochester. She's so frank with him, and he loves her for it even if she's not of his class or status. I also like Wuthering Heights."

This made Heathcliff smile. "Wuthering Heights is my mother's favorite book."

"I figured your mother must have some attachment to it," she teased.

Her teasing made Heathcliff feel more at ease. He smiled and the banter continued as the clock swung its hands. He made her laugh and smile, now the polite stuff she usually did, but laugh like a monkey, real and substantial. Her smile stretched all the way across her face and made her seem more alive.

Fill Me Up God

For some reason my life seems to be revolving around the book of Ruth. I came back from the Dominican with the idea that now I am a college graduate, I would start to grow up a little. I also decided that it was time to stop looking for someone to feel the empty void within me. I figured that a good first step to growing up would be to join a new adult class on Wednesday nights at church. At first, I thought of asking one of the other girls to go with me, after all, who wants to grow up alone? However, I decided against that. I'm a big girl. I can talk to people; I'm fairly outgrowing. A new class would be for me and me alone. So I joined a class about studying the Bible (since I also struggle with reading my Bible). We would be spending the next couple of months learning different ways to study the Bible using the book of Ruth. First of all, I'm not a huge fan of the book of Ruth. Yes, I can hear the gasps from all WOW members across the internet even as I type, but the fact remains is that Ruth is not a woman that I find myself relating too. But nonetheless, here I am in a class that focuses on Ruth, a small four chapter book, for about 16 weeks. Enough time to read each chapter 4 times. And so far, it has been interesting. I've thought about the book in different terms already, one being the distance between Bethlehem and Moab. Why would Naomi and her family travel 90 or so miles to a country that has historically been enemies of her people? Questions like these were changing the way that I had always looked at the book of Ruth. However, my classmates were not seeing or relating to things the way I was. The difference? I am the only one in class without husband or children. As each woman relates both Ruth and Naomi to their own families, I am left sitting wondering what I can contribute for this (excepting that "future" advice I should be storing). It can make for a sad evening.

However, while at Liberty last weekend, I was taken to one of my favorite places to be: a bookstore. And since I'm at Liberty, I can expect a lot of books on theology and "stuff Christians like". My goal was to find a new devotion book. I wanted to have something definite to help me with my Bible reading and keep me from falling off the wagon. While in the women's section (really, where else would I be?) I found a book called "Lady in Waiting: Becoming God's Best While Waiting for Mr. Right". Hadn't I just spend a quarter of my quiet time that morning at the LU Monogram praying that God would bring me Mr. Right? Hadn't I just been imagining browsing through that bookstore with the man of my dreams? Of course I had. It was a daily thing for me to do. Needless to say, the book intrigued me. Scanning the back of the book, it didn't look any different from any other book that promised to teach me to live above my longing for my earthly Prince. I flipped open the cover to the introduction and skimmed it. About two-thirds down the page my eyes took in the information that made me look towards the ceiling and give God a little "are-you-kidding-me" look. This book was using the book of Ruth to help me realize the fundamental truth that God has been screaming at me for months: He is all I need. But here was what I am studying at church to prove that I can be a grown up coupled with something that weighs down my very soul. Its a God thing. So I purchased the book.

All this back story is leading to a conclusion, I promise. And here it is. I am committing myself to really discover and be a Lady in Waiting for God. This will be my personal journey with a love relationship with Christ. It's time that I told God that He's enough and actually live knowing that He is. I don't know why I'm nervous. The worst that could happen is that if I really dive into this, God will fill me. What's so bad about that? Because right now I worry that means that I won't get my Prince Charming, my Mr. Right. However, that's just defeating myself before I begin. God will fill me. I just have to surrender that vessel before Him. Okay loneliness, you're about to hit the road, so if you have a final tear to shed, I suggest you cry it now.

God, fill me up

Beautiful

if i could open my mouth

and let notes of glory

tumble and fly

you would think

me beautiful.

if had toned thighs,

playboy polished

boobs and rear

that never jiggled,

if my hips

didn't sway

of their own accord

you would think

me beautiful.

if my teeth

were whiter

my feet smaller

if i didn't always

have a zit on my chin.

you would think

me beautiful.

perhaps if i didn't laugh

louder than a monkey,

maybe if kept my thoughts

to myself,

if i read less

and was shallow more

you would think

me beautiful.

if i were more

of a girl

who had yet to feel

the world behind her

and less of the woman

with bags under

her tearful eyes

you would find

me beautiful.

but i am none

of those things,

am i then

not beautiful?

no.

in eyes that

watch stars burn

i am beautiful

beyond all

your thoughts

and your opinions.

Thoughts on Vision in Visionland this Summer....

This weekend was all about vision. And white water rafting. To say that I didn't have fun would be a lie. I had so much fun, considering I have never been white water rafting before. However, rather than write a blog dedicated to the fun that I had, I find myself thinking over vision more.

What vision is God giving me? I know that my passion lies with women and teaching them that their worth lies in God alone. But what is the next step? I love to write, I love to read, and I love to feel that the words God gives to me, speaks to the hearts of the people that I am talking to. But how do I take that, and live it out? Am I sure that is God's vision for me? What am I doing here on this earth if I am not carrying out God's vision for me? What am I doing right now if I'm not seeking out what that vision is? I'm wasting time. And since I am a slave to Christ, it's not my time to waste. When I surrendered, I took on the will of the Master, and His will involves vision. To not be seeking the will that He has for me, is to disobey the will of the Master.

una noche del rio (a night by the river)

basking in Your glory

i close my eyes to the

wonders of Your

creation.

roaring rivers

of rapturous rapids

race past my window

tracing the toes of

marvelous mountains

that touch the sky.

the Heavens abound

in starlight

perfect ambiance

to the sleepy, silhouetted

earth made of Your hands.

i am in awe of

the God who

whispers breezes

who created green

and blue

the world explodes

in song

of Your magnitude

they speak of the

God

whose essence

pours on this earth

like a waterfall

whose beauty sways

like a coursing river

whose might stands taller

than the mountains

Your beauty and imagination

echos,

resounds...

i breathe it in

feeling my chest expand

with Your creation

i close my eyes

and let Your breeze

kiss my face

within my rapt

silence.

No Fuego Aqui

Last night was my dinner challenge for the internship. And considering that the stove did not catch on fire or blow up, I considered the challenge throughly accomplished. However, God has a higher standard of attainment and for that, I concede that our evening was quite perfect, if I am allowed to make the assumption that near perfection is obtainable.

As for problems, the biggest ones we had were the cake stuck to the bottom of the pan (to which the solution was to spoon it out onto the plate and cover it with a nice swirl of whipped cream) and we were ignorant in how to make coffee, which may have cost us some since coffee is equivalent to manna in this country. But since God was in control, our dinner was fantastic. Our first quest, Carolina and her mother showed up only 45 minutes late, on the standard of Dominican time, I thought they were quite early. On a side-note, one of the biggest difficulties that I have with the Dominican culture is the time difference. And it comes from their attitude versus our attitude. I for one, love their laid-back attitude, but it does play havoc with my internal United Statian way of upbringing. I simply need to be more flexible. But nonetheless, we ate our dinner of spaghetti and salad minus two guests. But it was fun. Carolina and her mother were so sweet and it made for a nice dinner. When we had finished, we went to take a piece of cake to our gate keeper, and when we reached the bottom of the steps that lead to the street, who should be coming up our walk, but one of our missing guests plus two friends.

So back up we went, taking Carlos, his sister Jacyln, and their cousin Moises. Our food was cold, our salad... a little wilted, but we sat the three of them on the couch and filled their hands with a plate of cake and a fork. About this time, the rest of our group decided to come back to the apartment. But it worked to our advantage because entertaining became a group thing. Our group had icebreaker questions which we posed to our Dominican brethren, and they in turn had a few questions for us. Conversations about what superhero powers we wanted, our greatest fears, embarrassments, weird things we had seen floated back and forth across the room in excited and loud spanish and english. It became an evening of bonding and breaking barriers as spanglish became our official language.

We praise God for a good dinner challenge. We praise God that we still have a stove. We praise God for good fellowship. And we praise God for San Pedro.

Dios te bendiga

San Pedro Update

I don't really have anything to write at this moment. We're in the planning stages of all our ministries such as English camp and our outreaches.

For outreach, my group has the college campus, the beautifully landscaped USE. I am really excited to have the opporutunity to be able to minister to the college students, since its what I do back in the states. We have been asked to plan a Bible study on the campus, which makes me even more happy. I keep thinking that our girl's study back at Lewis has now been going for a year. Its grown and dwindled, but as a group we've grown closer to God and to each other. We've become each other's support and accountability which is something one needs during their college years. And thinking about the girl's Bible study back home makes me even more excited about the one we're going to start on the USE campus. We meant to visit it the other day, but it was closed. I am hoping that within the next day or two we can go and visit and do a Prayer walk through it.

Tonight is the dinner challenge for my group and my biggest prayer is for the stove not to blow up. I know I have left the door wide open for an entire array of other problems to arise, but I think that I could handle those. A stove catching fire/blowing up will send me over the end. Period. So in a few famous last words: tonight should be interesting.

"In Him we live and move and have our being..."

Paul Addresses the Areopagus

²²So Paul, standing in the midst of the Areopagus, said: "Men of Athens, I perceive that in every way you are very religious. ²³For as I passed along and observed the objects of your worship, I found also an altar with this inscription To the unknown god. What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. ²⁴The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man,²⁵nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything. ²⁶And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place,²⁷ that they should seek God, in the hope that they might feel their way toward him and find him. Yet he is actually not far from each one of us, ²⁸for

"'In him we live and move and have our being';

as even some of your own poets have said,

"'For we are indeed his offspring.'

²⁹Being then God’s offspring, we ought not to think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of man. ³⁰The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent,³¹because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead."

³²Now when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some mocked. But others said,"We will hear you again about this."

San Pedro Sweats

Last night, I truly wanted to die. Part of this is a little over dramatic, part of it is not. Yesterday in some horrible twist, I got a fever. And even as I sit here and type, I can feel myself in a bit of a feverish sweat. I guess fevers are spread by viruses, but there is no other way I could have gotten sick. And it just infrutriates me because I came down here to serve, and instead I'm constrained to a bed where from the top of my hips to the tops of my knees are nothing but pounding masses of aches. My hips still hurt this morning. I had to miss youth night last night, and I'll have to miss church this morning. There is no way I can walk or ride to church in this condition. Or sit through an entire service. I hate being sick, and to be sick down here just breaks my heart.

However, yesterday, I did have the opportunity to walk around the college campus in san pedro. It's going to be fun getting to know the students here and ministering to them. They seem very friendly and open. I pray that God allows us to do great things with and for these students. However, right now I wish God would take away this sickness.

God = Glory

So while I'm here in San Pedro, I decided to read through the book of Acts. And while I think I've already stated that, I am amazed about how much God is not only speaking to my heart about, but also the connections between my morning devotions and the books that we are reading as a group for the internship.

One of these books is called Radical and is by David Platt, a Pastor of a mega-church in Alabama. And even though he is blessed to have so many resources and people at his beckoning, for him its not enough. Platt is trying to reconcile the difference between the God of the American Dream and the God of the Bible. And what he shows, is that the God we learn and sing praises to is not the God that we proclaim to serve. It begs the reader to ask the question: who is God in my life? Is He the Father that is ever loving and forgiving? Or is He more? Is He the God that cannot abide sin? And the answer is a sound Biblical yes that He is both, but the fact reminds that our life and our faith doesn't show both. Platt writes that we are consumed by the fact that our relationship with God is not God centered at all, but me centered. Why? Because ask the question, "why do you serve God" and the typical response is, "because God loves me". And there it is, the me centered faith that we base our entire lives upon and proclaim to those around us. And while it cannot be denied that God does indeed love us, the answer is lacking. Yes God loves us, but He created us for His glory. In His image He made us. I have yet to find another person who gets as excited over an intimate creation with God as I do, but an important detail, nay, an important essential to remember is that we had that intimate creation so that God would be gloried. Our lives are not lived to bring glory to God as the most pivotal part of our day or existence. And yet, to not do so, is to live for God in ignorance.

I have a friend who is constantly reminding us that we are the very enemies of God. And I have to admit that when I first heard this, I was little confused. I thought that God loved us, and how many times have I sung, "I am a friend of God" and now I'm being told that I am an enemy of God? Two plus two was not equaling four. But now I'm starting to really understand. My sin, my disobedience makes me an enemy to the very God that create me. When Christ died on the cross, He wasn't just dying, but taking my sin, this thing that makes me a very enemy to my Creator, upon Himself. Christ became that enemy and threw it down. And yet, I still live in constant rebellion to God. I believe in Christ and for the blood that He gave, and yet I don't live it. I hope that now I can work more on my transformation to the image of Christ which leads to God being glorified, and less on retrograding back to the me centered Christianity that plagues this world.

Adventures in San Pedro.

Well, the last two days in San Pedro have been an experience to say the least.

I've been on missions trips and I've always rode a bus with 20 other people, that had to be counted and herded on and off while we watched the people we were ministering to zip by on buses and taxis. For the first time, I got to abandon all of that and learn bus routes. It was pouring the rain, but I haven't been waiting all winter and spring to let a little rain ruin the adventure that I've been praying for. So we took our leave in the rain armed with a map, a list for the scavenger hunt, and about 200 pesos. Our mission, buy one egg and ride 3 different bus routes that we had to trace on a map of San Pedro all the while keeping our egg safe. Our egg was purchased, named Alberta, and put in Hannah's soft, capable hands while we tried to figure out which bus went where. We also had many other objectives, such as finding out prices of certain items, finding points of interest, and so on. All in all, it was a day that I have never had before. There may have not been much ministry, but it was practical and applicable to living life as a real missionary. I cannot expect to be carted around like on regular trips, but I have to figure out how to navigate myself around this city whether it be by bus, taxi, or walking. And while it scares me a little to do that, I'm excited. I feel more like a real missionary and not just another kid that came down for the week.

And today was another applicable day. Our days start at 8:30 with Spanish class. And even though I just graduated with a degree in Spanish, I am enjoying the basics. Today we did pronunciations. It is a fact of life that I cannot roll my "r's". My tongue does not vibrate, no sound comes from my throat. I have accepted this fact. However, this fact is not readily accepted by other people so easily. So that made for an entertaining class today. And as with every Spanish class I have ever taken, I had to start it with prayer. When I changed my major at Marshall to Spanish, it wasn't about me at that time. I've always had an interest in the language, and I've always watched with awe and a tinge of jealousy when I would observe others translating. It was something I wanted to do, someone I wanted to be. However, my switch to Spanish wasn't for those reasons; at least not primarily. I've known and committed my to missions in Costa Rica. I fought it for years, but finally gave in and acknowledge that passion that beats inside of me for the foriegn field, for the Latino field. And I know that if God sends me there, I have to know Spanish. Its as simple as that. I could either learn it in school and prepare myself for God's plans, or waste 4 years of my life doing something that wouldn't help me. So I decided to see where God would take me with this and I changed it to Spanish. It has not been easy, and many times I wanted to quit. That is when I started to pray before I went to any Spanish class. I gave this class to God before ever walking through the door. And God used me. And He's using me now. So while I may get flustered, I may feel that I can't do it, I know that I can't, but God can.

After Spanish class, I was given the opportunity to go to the dress shop with a few other girls. I've been dreaming about this shop since I went there last year. Inside, the girls and I helped to reorangize the dresses by size. It was hard work and more than once I thought of the show "Say Yes to the Dress" and how those women spend everyday carrying those heavy dresses from room to room. But here, it was small and had no air conditioning. It was hot, and the dresses touching your skin made you feel hotter, but once everything was said and done, I felt great. It was a small favor that helps the ladies in the shop minister to one more person, and that was what mattered.

After the dress shop, I finally got to do what I wanted to do ever since I first came to the Dominican on my first trip: ride a motorcycle taxi. The other girls rode together, but I volunteered to ride on one alone. My driver was the only one who knew where the apartment was so we shot off first. I felt a moment of nervousment when I looked behind me and realized that the others weren't behind us as we flew past other motorcycles, people, and buses. But that passed when we stopped at a corner to let the others catch up. From then on, I never felt a moment of fear, but exhilaration. The wind whipped through my hair, San Pedro and life shot past, and I felt more happiness than I have in awhile. I've been dreaming and yearning for adventure these past few months when so many things felt stagnant and bland. Everything so planned and normal, but for these past few days, I've done things that I've never done before, and it has challenged me. I like a challenge. I'm not the kind of girl who wants to ride the backseat as everyone leads her from place to place. I'm the kind of girl who sees something and isn't satisfied until she gets to do it. I crave that edge feeling. And I'm in love with San Pedro, because here, its all an adventure.

Starting a Trip in Acts

Yesterday may have been a rough day, but I made it. I may have shed a few tears, had a little family airport drama, my suitcase may have ripped, I may have lost my staightner, and I may have a shirt that is slightly covered in puke, but I’m here. And even though yesterday as I sat on the plane, my head pounding and having someone else for once be the mommy that I usually am, there was a few seeds of doubt as to what I was I thinking. However, most of that was wiped away once we met Chad and he asked us what we wanted for dinner. The first choice out of his mouth was burger king. I could have cried. I got to eat a whopper, one of my most favorite things in the world, my first night here. It helped to relieve some of the trepidation that I had been feeling on the plane.

The other interns seem nice. I am both excited and nervous to get to know them. The other girls all seem so young and have so much school ahead of them. I’ m no stranger to knowing that I’m older than everyone around me, but it also makes me feel like I’m home. It will be a good six weeks. And I know that because of what GOD has done to get me here and because I’m both willing and ready to be used by HIM. I decided to read through the book of Acts while I’mhere, since its about the first missions trips. GOD brought to my attention in chapter 1 where they are replacing Judas. There were two men, Matthias and Barsabas, both were willing to be used, but when the disciples prayed and asked GOD, HE chosed Matthias. GOD knows who HE wants to use, but GOD can only choose who is willing. I’m willing and I believe that GOD has chose me to be here, and to serve HIM. And while I am scared to be here, I don’t feel worthy enough to be here, and while I harbor some feelings that I shouldn’t be here, the truth of the matter is that I am here. I’m in the Dominican Republic. And I’m here with a willing heart that is ready to be conformed and transformed to what GOD has planned for me. This is the adventure that I’ve been praying and dreaming for. This is the adventure that I’m ready to live.