4.28.2009

i've worn out the world

What does a goodbye look like? A goodbye to a place that’s been like a home for four years. What do you do? There’s no way you can say goodbye and give everyone you’ve met there a hug. There are people I had coffee with several times that I never officially said goodbye to. I found myself instead getting one last glance as I watched them on the screen walk across the stage and receive their diploma cover. I said goodbye in my head. I said goodbye for me, not for them. Because they’ve already moved on. I saw the people I needed to see, and said goodbye in my head to the others.

Driving away was different than I thought. I was already done with IWU the school. And this time, I was driving away from the people. And the people that were hardest to drive away from was this family that I had grown to love so much. I love their house. They have 6 children (one is a new baby), 2 ducks living in their kitchen, a cat with 3 new kittens and a goat tied in their backyard. When I walk in, I’m greeted with hugs and smiles, and I can sit and play and talk with them for hours. I love that place. That home was hard to leave. I would go back not for campus, not for IWU, but for that home, those incredible people.

I’ve worn out the IWU world. I’m done there. And I’m good. I’m better than good. There’s something new waiting for me. There’s a place where I will live. There are people I will meet. And while IWU is in my past, I’m not going to really miss it. I’ve carried the memories and the people with me.

It was a good place. I learned there, through good times and bad. But it’s officially over now, and I’m moving on.

Hello World…

*Now that I've worn out, I've worn out the world
I'm on my knees in fascination
Looking through the night
And the moons never seen me before
But I'm reflecting light

I wrote the pain down
Got off and looked up
Looked into your eyes
The lost open windows
All around
My dark heart lit up the skies

And now that I've worn, I've worn out the world
I'm on my knees in fascination
Looking through the night
And the moons never seen me before
But I'm reflecting light

Give up the ground
Under your feet
Hold on to nothing for good
Turn and run at the mean times
Chasing you
Stand alone and misunderstood

And now that I've worn, I've worn out the world
I'm on my knees in fascination
Looking through the night
And the moons never seen me before
But I'm reflecting light*

Reflecting Light – Sam Phillips (As seen in Gilmore Girls)

4.19.2009

orleanna and the jr. high kids


“I find her standing on the sea wall in raincoat and no shoes, glaring at the ocean. Orleanna and Africa at a standoff.” (Adah – The Poisonwood Bible)

I spent the weekend with 14 jr. high students at a Believe conference in Anderson, IN. Why? I think I’m still figuring it out. I spent weeks waiting, wondering where God was going to take me now. Back to a place that holds great spiritual memories for me.

I found myself looking over the auditorium at Anderson University remembering that that place held my beginnings at youth conferences too. In the summer of 2001 I was getting ready to enter high school and spent a week in Anderson with some incredible people who changed my life. And here I was again, with these kids as they began their journey. And while I would have loved for my mind to be thinking all about them this weekend, God did something different in my heart.

Once again, He spoke to me about grace. He used loud music, wonderful speakers and an auditorium full of crazy jr. high students to show me his love, and that he has plans for them and me.

He showed me that Africa and I aren’t done yet. There is still this longing in my heart for that place and those people. Maybe it’s because I left fast, but as one speaker told the story of Austin Gutwein and Hoops for Hope, I found myself crying as I cheered for the clinic they built in Zambia. Those people have a piece of my heart.

Orleanna and the jr. high kids aren’t the most likely combination. But since when has God ever used anything normal in my life…

4.16.2009

at 9:30 on tuesday morning...

I’m a fairly lucky 22-year old. Not only do I have an incredibly wise and wonderful mother, she is now sharing with me a part of her life that I have grown to love.

There is an eclectic group of really cool women that meet at 9:30 on Tuesday morning for Bible study. They have often gone through Beth Moore books and are now making their way through a Kelly Minter study. But the books that they go through isn’t what is special about them.

They share their stories. They facebook each other. They relate to what they’re studying. And probably little known to them, they are teaching me more than I ever could learn in a classroom.

These are your everyday women, wives, mothers, grandmothers, and friends. I understand that many college students probably wouldn’t love going to their mom’s Bible study every Tuesday morning. Maybe I’m strange, but I love it. It’s my favorite time of the week. I never know what I’m going to hear or learn.

So, Tuesday morning group, here’s to you. Thank you for making me feel included. Thank you for welcoming me home. Thank you for sharing your stories and allowing me to interject comments every once in a while. I’ve learned more from you than you’ll ever know.

4.12.2009

ruth and lezlee and jon

For me, Africa has been about grace. And it isn’t just what happened at the end. The whole experience has symbolized grace to me. If I could put a face of someone on grace, I would use Maureen’s face.

Grace welcomed me home. And it’s not leaving either. Sermons I’ve heard since I’ve been home have been about grace. The North American conference is about grace this year.

Easter, this year for me, was about grace. Grace.

I was overwhelmed with the letters I and my family received as I returned back to the States at the end of February. I printed these out and put them in my journal from Africa. These letters are as much about Africa as everything I wrote.

Two incredible women that I wish I knew better wrote me something about Easter that hit home on those cold days in March and the beautiful sunny, Easter day today.

“Life is always messy. That’s why we needed the cleansing blood. Sometimes if we live just good enough, we never really believe we need it that much. You will know him for his gift now at this season of Easter. You will be better for it.” – Ruth

“We are most formed spiritually when we come face to face with our sin and the suffering that accompanies it in this world. My hunch is that this Easter will be like none other for you… basking in the love of Jesus in new ways no one could imagine.” – Lezlee

I kept thinking about these letters and the many others that flooded my inbox as I sat in Easter service and listened during communion. And the Jon started to sing…

My soul is weak
My heart is numb
I cannot see
But still my hope is found in You
I’ll hold on tightly
You will never let me go
For Jesus, You will never fail
Jesus, You will never fail

Simply to the cross i cling
Letting go of all earthly things
Clinging to the cross
Mercy’s found a way for me
Hope is here as i am free
Jesus, You are all i need
Clinging to the cross

Even darkness is as light to You, my Lord
So light the way and lead me home
To that place where every tear is wiped away
For Jesus, You will never fail
Jesus, You will never fail

Simply to the cross i cling
Letting go of all earthly things
Clinging to the cross
Mercy’s found a way for me
Hope is here as i am free
Jesus, You are all i need
Clinging to the cross

What a Saviour, what a story
You were crucified but now You are alive
So amazing, such a mystery
You were crucified but now You are alive

Simply to the cross i cling
Letting go of all earthly things
Clinging to the cross
Mercy’s found a way for me
Hope is here as i am free
Jesus, You are all i need
Clinging to the cross

Thank you Jesus. I couldn't thank you enough for your grace in my life. So thank you.

4.10.2009

band-aids and longer lasting pain

I no longer fully own my heart.

And I used to think that I left pieces of my heart in the places where I’ve been. I’m rethinking that. I haven’t just left random pieces in the places, I’ve given pieces away to people.

When I look back over my life, a life that to many would maybe seem unexciting, has been to me a grand adventure. The people I’ve met have been more than amazing, and it’s these people that own pieces of my heart, whether they know it or not.
And I guess that’s why it’s so hard to leave these people. They own a part of me, a part that while I am glad to give away, I will never give back. I always think when I leave that things will never be the same. I will never be with these people in this place again. And when I stop to think about it, it hurts. Really hurts.

When I left Africa, it was like ripping off a band-aid. It had to happen and I wasn’t really ready for it. It happened so fast and it hurt intensely for a while, but it wasn’t like anticipating leaving. And that is what my friends are going through right now.
Two incredible young women have spent since the beginning of January in Dubai. They come home in 3 weeks. And am I ever ready for them to come home. Yet, I know these last 3 weeks are going to be hard thinking that they will soon be leaving. This isn’t ripping off a band-aid. It’s something in which the pain lasts longer although with maybe a little less intensity.
In the end, the hurt is kind of the same.

Whether I leave fast or slow, I realize that I’ve still left a part of myself with the people.

So here’s a toast to the people who own a part of me that may not even realize they own. And here’s another to two amazing friends. May the next 21 days be more than you ever imagined. And when you get home and it hurts, I’ll be here.