thankful

I am always looking forward to the next thing.
Looked forward to my first job (so I started working early because I was the coolest high school kid ever)
Looked forward to graduating high school.
Looked forward to graduating college (also early. Because I....
Looked forward to starting my first job in my career.
Then I looked forward to finding someone to marry... then getting engaged... then getting married.

And not that having goals isn't good. I just think I had misplaced my focus on "the next thing" and taken it off of the God that should have been my priority.

But this year is different.

This year, I made some great friends who encourage me and push me to be a better Jesus-follower, leader and person.

This year, I realized that the little girls that I met when they were 6th graders were becoming women. And watched them become leaders of a little 6th grade class of their own. 

This year, I watched God take care of my new nephew and see my sister and brother-in-law become incredible parents.

Not to mention getting to learn from some incredible men and women, going to another country to see a fantastic team of people working for actual change, getting to do a job I love and falling for a man that has seen me at my worst, but still chooses to be with me. Because that all happened to.

And for the first time, possibly ever, I'm not trying to push to the next stage without enjoying the one that I'm in. Life comes in seasons and I know the one I'm in won't last forever - and I don't want it to. But for now, I want to actually be thankful for where I'm at and thank God who has given me more than I could have asked for or imagined. 

untitled

I can't come up with a title for this post. It's just... some random thoughts at this point. So. Sorry.

I started helping out at my church's AWANA program as soon as I was old enough to go listen to the Sparks memorize Bible verses. What I do now isn't so much like that.

My Tuesday and Wednesday nights are often filled with music from some of the most talented people I know and hundreds of kids, hopefully looking for and finding a place they are safe. 

I looked around this week during our high school youth group and realized I wasn't just looking at 200 high schoolers. I saw the kid who's dad has ripped apart their family. The seniors stressed about getting into college. The loner who desperately wants to be noticed. The loud group in the back who have never set foot in any other church ever, but come here because their friends are here or they don't have anything else to do or... actually, sometimes I don't know why, but they show up. 

Every kid has their stuff. Something that keeps them up at night and rules their thinking. Just standing there, surrounded by students from every crowd in high school, it felt overwhelming that we would have the responsibility to point these students - wherever they're at - to Jesus, the most important thing, the person they are searching for, the value they desperately want. 

And I was grateful to be surrounded by a group of volunteers who wants to do the same thing. 

Overwhelming responsibility. But a great team to work at it with.

good samaritan

Sunday school. Today's lesson: The Good Samaritan.
Guy gets beaten up, robbed and left for dead. Two "religious guys" pass him and the guy that should have wanted nothing to do with him gives him help, hope and a chance at really living. Be a good Samaritan. Pray. Go home.

That's how I've heard that story my whole life.

This week at church, we looked at Luke 10.30. The first verse. Just a single verse out of this parable that I can practically quote:

A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead.

He was stripped - his stuff, his dignity, all taken away.
He was beaten - he was hurt, in a way he might have never been hurt before.
He was abandoned.

And that's when I realized the person in the story that I was most like is the guy - hurt, confused, and alone - in a ditch. That would have died unless someone - or Someone - came to help change his situation.

The challenge went out to hold on, just a little longer, no matter what you're doing through. And to try to be that person for someone else. Because I'm prideful, I'd like to think I've been that person, but in reality, I looked at the people that were sitting with me at church and thought, I am much more the person in need than I've ever been the hero.

It made me grateful for the people who walked with me through The Dark Years (yes, I have divided my life into eras).
Thankful for the people who have celebrated everything from ice skating competition victories (yes, I have, in fact, heard every Michelle Kwan joke there is to make) to graduating from college.
And feel incredibly humbled that there is anyone willing to walk through the normal, every day life stuff that is mundane and sometimes downright boring.

I'm thankful for those who have been Good Samaritans in my world when I've had absolutely nothing to give. Guess that parable wasn't so simple after all.

been awhile.

So, clearly it's been awhile since I've posted last. Not for lack of adventures or passionate rants about loving my Droid, hating when parents mess up their kids, or whatever else it is that normally hits me.

I'm going to shamelessly blame the fact that I now manage two blogs.

Life has felt like a blur of hanging out with people I love, challenging them when I have to, learning the ropes in a new job, doing things I'm awful at, and generally, trying to become a better human. Not sure I'm really succeeding at any of them.

Last week I had to buy a new car. It stressed me out more than I really wanted it to and I'm sorry to the people around me who had to put up with me. At the end of the week, I'm exhausted and feel mostly like I could crawl in bed and not wake up for days. Or weeks.

My old car held lots of dents and lots of stories. Students getting violently ill in my backseat, drunken people throwing things and making dents, and kids climbing up my windshield to get in through the sunroof - to name a few.

I don't want to forget those moments and the things I learned from them. But I'm ready to not have a constant reminder in my driveway anymore - especially for a few of the stories that accompany the dents. I'm glad I get the chance - not just with my car - to put what has happened to me behind me and that I've got some people in my world who forgive me and bravely still want to be in my life.

Insert some motivational point here about moving on, but not forgetting. NEEDTOBREATHE said it well:

Can we put back all the pieces to the puzzles left behind?
We will soon be back together just before the stars align.
When the curtain falls for one last time and closes out the show.
Marching left, right, left, another step. Keep smiling as you go.
Movin on 

Im sick of good intentions how they always tend to drown.
But, then, nothing seems to stay afloat living in the saddest town.
When the curtain falls for one last time and closes out the show.
Marching left, right, left, another step. Keep smiling as you go.
Movin on 

Youre out of room for marking days on the wall
The lines remind of just how long Ive been gone
Youre holding on but now its time to let go.
Just let it go.
Movin on 

We could be the story that'll break your heart.
We could be the victim of a fall apart.
Maybe we could last another week or so.
Movin on, baby, means you gotta let it go.

family.

As we started middle school camp last week, one of leaders prayed that our students would get "to feel just a taste of family." It made me tear up then, but by the end of the week after several conversations, that sentiment became more of a goal than a just a phrase.

I was adopted into an awesome family - two parents, a sister (and for more than half my life, a brother-in-law) - who loved Jesus, loved me and taught me how to follow God and love people. 

I spent a week with students whose homes are broken.

Whose parents make them feel like a mistake.
Whose dad's have done more harm than protection.
Whose mom's forget them.
Who feel completely alone.

One of my co-workers said it best when he said that it makes you feel blessed, and then almost a bit guilty to have grown up in such a great situation.

"A taste of family" - something the kids I work with desperately need because the people they know are less like "family" and more like people they happen to share DNA with. I don't have any happy wrap up or even a "moral of the story." I'm mostly just frustrated and sad. I hate watching these kids have to face something that isn't their fault and makes them hurt so much. I pray they get that "taste of family" every time they interact with my church - the kind of family that loves them and doesn't hurt them and is there for them and doesn't abandon them.

home.

I've been home for just over 24 hours after spending a week or so in Africa and far too long on a plane. I had the chance to go with a group of high school students to Iganga, Uganda at Musana. Musana is a community development organization dedicated to more than just kids, more than just orphans and widows, more than just sustainability.

It's all of that.
It's a dairy farm and a chicken coop.
It's giving dignity back to widows and giving them opportunity to provide for their families.
It's training kids at school to be the best Ugandan citizens and letting them dream about becoming welders, police officers, pilots and statesmen.
It's water and a well for the surrounding community.
It's jobs - teachers, farmers, social workers, accountants - for Ugandans.

I'm still thinking through a lot of what I learned during my time in Uganda, but the memory that stands out to me the most was during our final lunch with the kids at Musana.

This is Emma. I had the chance to hang out with this brilliant 10-year-old much of the week. He wants to be a pilot. When we said our goodbyes, he made me pinkie promise with him that we would never forget each other. I didn't know how to tell him that there's no way I ever could.

Emma lost his dad and brother. Musana is giving him the chance to live out his dreams and learn that there's a God that loves him. He's one of the strongest, smartest kids I think I've ever met. And someday soon - because of the investment of the Ugandan teachers and people at Musana - he's going to change the world.

africa

There's a weird song that I remember growing up hearing in church. It's called "Please Don't Send Me to Africa" and it's really all about telling God exactly what you don't want Him to do in your life. I think. Or maybe I missed the point. Or maybe the song did.

Regardless, I never sang that song.
And I'm going to Africa.

Eleven high school juniors and seniors are going with the youth pastor, an elder at our church and myself to Musana Children's Home. It's not an orphanage. It's a school. It's a safe place for kids. It's training grounds for the next generation of Ugandan citizens. And it's goal is to be self-sustainable by it's farm and cafe.

The students that are going are incredible. Here's a little bit of who they are:

I've had the privilege of leading middle school students with Ana for the last 2 years. She's has a contagious spirit. Our students run up to me excitedly and then say, "Hey! Where's Ana!?!" She's wise beyond her years and a natural at caring for the people around her well.

Last year, Drew asked me to write something for him for a college application. it was one of the easiest things I've ever had to write. Drew leads 8th grade guys - the age where you can see the most diverse size difference at the same age. It doesn't matter to Drew if a student is the last place at the math championship or the star quarterback. He takes time to listen to every kid and really everyone like they matter. Because they do.

Erika is one of the most soft-spoken members of our team. Because of that, when she speaks, people listen. She asks good questions and listens well to the answer. I've had the privilege of watching her lead 6th grade girls. She listens. And she works to know their names because it's important.

I've only known Haley for a few weeks, but what I've seen already in her is her ability to see people for what they are hurting about. She's got a soft spirit and wants to help in any way possible. She feels with you and laughs easily.

Kate has the most energy of anyone I've ever met. She's passionate about caring for her friends, her students, and following hard after Jesus. I've never met someone who's so willing to ask for and then listen to advice. She's the organizer who sees something that needs to get done and finishes it well.

A few years ago I called Kelsea the wrong name. Apparently this happens often and she was gracious enough not to call me out on it. She is one of the strongest and most courageous people I know. She stands unafraid for what she believes in and puts aside what she's going through and feeling to put other people first.

If I could go back and be anyone in high school, I think it would be Joy. She doesn't take herself too seriously. She's good at everything I've ever seen her try. And she's got wisdom about things that I'm just learning. Joy is comfortable in her own skin and knows who she is. Something I wish I had known earlier - and knew better, even now.

I only met Sam a few weeks ago as well, but despite being an excellent basketball player (and probably other things, but again, I just met him) he is humble. He doesn't have to be the center of attention, but lets other people take the lead and supports them well.

At Max's interview, he came in as an alter ego of his and was able to act out a completely separate character for a full half hour interview without even breaking a sweat. He can add humor to anything and has a gift to make people laugh.

Brave. That's the best word I can think of to describe Maddy. She just underwent her second heart surgery and recovered faster than any of the doctors could have predicted. She's found a balance that I think very few people get - knowing when to be strong, and when she needs to ask for help. She's one of the most courageous women I know and her three younger sisters love and look up to her.

Trent does the high jump - in track and in life. I say that because whenever you see the high jump, the jumper is throwing everything they have backwards over a bar. You don't half-do a high jump. You're all in. Everything I've ever seen Trent do, he's all in. Sports, school leadership or leading middle school students - he throws himself at whatever it is and goes for it.








The cost, as you can imagine, is fairly high for a student (and the leaders) to go to Africa. If you want to donate to any of these students (or to those of us who are going as leaders), you can do so here.

Can I also ask you, straight up, just to do something right now?
Would you pray for us?
As we prepare and learn as much as we can about the culture and work at Musana.
As we go that we have safe flights across the world.
As we are there, building relationships and being a help to those who are doing work there already, and not a burden.
As we come back, that every one of us would carry what we learned from Musana and the Ugandans that we meet.

Thanks. We'll keep you updated and bring back pictures, memories, and stories.