going

That’s it, I’m officially going to Africa. Zambia, specifically. For three months. God is so good, as are the people at IWU that are giving me this incredible opportunity.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think of going to Africa for extended periods of time. But God’s plans are always bigger than my own, and I have found, over the past month especially, that I do have a heart for this place. God has given me a heart for Africa, he has opened so many doors, and pushed me in so many directions. He has provided the resources for me to go, and taught me to be content when things were up in the air.

I’m so ready. Let’s go. I’m loving life, loving people, and loving Africa.

thank you, bethel

The hospitality I experienced this weekend was more than I could ever ask for. I traveled up to bethel to see the EM people and make frybread for my boys.

It was better than I expected. There’s a sense of community at bethel that I’ve never seen before, even at iwu. And I got to be a part of it. Yon and Chris and Justine and everyone else welcomed me with open arms and were the perfect hosts.

It was so good to be with them again, to share Arizona stories and know that they understand who I am and what God did in each of us this summer. They’re like family. They’re just great.

So thank you, you three. And thank you bethel, for teaching me things I won’t ever forget, about community, about really sharing life together, and about how to have fun!

eggs benedict

“…but you, you knew the real me. I didn’t. Benedict. I love eggs benedict. I hate all the other kinds of eggs. If I ride off into the sunset, I want my own horse.” – Runaway Bride

It took Julia Roberts four weddings that she ran away from to learn who she really was. And that’s what it was about, learning the real her, and not becoming who any of the men wanted her to be.

Fortunately for me, I didn’t have to run away from four weddings. After 21 years, I thought I had a fairly good grasp on myself. And then this summer hit, and God stretched me and made me give up all my ideas of home, and love and servanthood. And he showed me who I am in Him.

And now, as I was talking about different aspects of life today with Sara Lynn, I realized that I am perfectly content today with who God has made me to be. I know what I like. I know some of the desires God has given me. And I want to walk confident in that fact.

So whoever comes along is going to have to deal with the fact that I love to travel, that my heart lies with those in other cultures, that I love to cook, that I love my family, that God is number one, and that I am willing to go wherever He takes me.

If I ride off into the sunset, I may very well want my own horse.

lessons from the bungalow

- Only most people think you’re a creep for butchering a sheep. Some of your best friends want to hear all about your crazy experiences.
- I still love cooking for others, and I make way too much for 5 people.
- Sarah Black is the most patient person I know.
- Alyson comes up with the best stories, and can make me laugh the same way Stephen can make me laugh.
- Coffee and tea overflow.
- People in Indiana and people in Arizona really aren’t that different.
- I live with 5 very brave girls.
- Even in the summer, Indiana is too cold and our house is always freezing.
- I miss Arizona.
- It takes God to get me up in the morning.
- Life is good, but my heart always hurts.
- I love our front porch, the kitchen, and the girls that occupy the living room.

I’m trying harder every day to get used to the fact that I’m finally here, in my last semester of college, living with these people one last time. I don’t want to miss it. I want to spend as much time with them as possible. These girls mean the world to me. They challenge me and they listen to me. There are days when I wonder why they love me. But God bless them, they’re the best.

the pieces of my heart

I grew up in one place. I’ve lived in the same house for 20 years. My family was here, my friends were here, my church was here. Columbus, Ohio was really all I’d ever known. Until that day in August of 2005 when I moved away. It was two months at college before I came home again, and I realized that when I was at school, I missed home. And when I was home, I missed school. My heart was in both places, and at any given moment, I had to choose one place to be. I’m limited. I can only be one place at a time. All of us are like that. Yet both places began to feel like home.

It didn’t really make sense until this summer. Arizona became another home. The Navajos are my family now too, just like my family in Ohio and my family in Indiana. And coming back to Ohio made me see that there was a huge piece of my heart that stayed in Arizona. I’m not complete in any one place anymore. I’m always thinking about where I’m not and how those people are, because I miss them so much.

I felt somewhat empty after coming back. Like I’d poured myself out so much on the rez that it was hard to give more here. And there are very few people that will sit and listen to your hours and hours of stories and pictures and memories and laughs that defined your summer and changed you. I felt empty and drained.

Until the other night. I decided on the spur of the moment to go see Hillsong United in Indiana with a very dear friend. And as I was once again simply a part of the crowd, with music so loud that I felt it in my heart and couldn’t hear anyone around me sing, I found that God was filling up my heart again. He was taking the pieces and fitting parts of them back together. I was filled with love again and a desire to go out and serve Him more.

I still have pieces of my heart all over. Ohio. Indiana. Arizona. And now that I’m full again, who knows where else I’ll leave my heart in the future. God’s taking me somewhere. He’s using me for something. And I’ll take the adventure day by day and leave my heart where I go.

more leaps of faith

There’s a simple beauty to Ohio. Maybe I’ve always taken it for granted, growing up here and all. But as I was pushed into free falling out of a plane today I noticed the patchwork quilt of green and cornfields that make up Xenia, Ohio.

Arizona never stopped being beautiful to me. Every time I walked out our front door I was reminded of where I was, how isolated we were, and how incredible it really is. Every time I went to the canyon, my breath was taken away by the sheer vastness of what God had done there. It wasn’t simple beauty. It was breathtaking.

And I’ve become convinced that you only see God’s true beauty when you take a leap of faith. Arizona was a huge leap of faith. I was clueless heading into this summer. But if I had known ahead of time every obstacle I would face, there’s a great chance I would have backed out and said, no thanks. Maybe it’s good that we don’t know where God is leading us or why. It’s only when those moments and situations come that you find out God has enough strength to help you through. All we have to do is take that first jump.

Before this summer, I highly doubt I would have said yes to an invitation to go skydiving. I kind of used to have this fear of heights. It didn’t take the Navajos long to find out our fears. And I’m not kidding when I say that they did everything in their power to make us face our fears head on. And so by the end of the summer, there wasn’t much that scared me anymore. And when Anna called and asked if I would jump out of a plane with her, I didn’t have to think twice. My fears will never again get in the way of seeing God’s beauty, whether it’s standing at the top of a canyon or seeing the patchwork quilt of Ohio while falling from the sky.

The only way to live is by leaping into life.

I'll come back when you call me

*It started out as a feeling,
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
And then that word grew louder and louder until it was a battle cry

I’ll come back when you call me
No need to say goodbye

Just because everything’s changing
Doesn’t mean it’s never been this way before
All you can do is try to know who your friends are
As you head off to the war
It could start on the dark horizon
And follow the light

You’ll come back when it’s over
No need to say goodbye
You’ll come back when it’s over
No need to say goodbye

Now we’re back to the beginning
It’s just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can’t feel it too
Doesn’t mean that you have to forget
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
Till they’re before your eyes

You’ll come back when they call you
No need to say goodbye
You’ll come back when they call you
No need to say goodbye*

The Call – Regina Spektor


This became my theme song for the summer after I saw Prince Caspian. I’ve seen Arizona as my own type of Narnia. While there were parts of it that were so much like my world, there was so much that was different. I faced different challenges, I was stretched in different ways. And when I learned my lesson, I had to board a plane and leave.

And that’s where I am now, in the Philadelphia airport, less than three hours from the place I call home. And a huge part of my heart is still on the rez. I think I knew it was going to be hard to leave, partly because, like in Narnia, you have no idea when you get to go back.

There’s no word for goodbye in Navajo. They simply say, “see you later.” I like that. That’s one Navajo tradition that I’m going to carry with me through my life. With Christians, no matter where and when, you never really have to say goodbye. You can simply say “see you later” and know that no matter what, it will hold true.

* I’ll come back when you call me – no need to say goodbye *