The Becoming.

This month has found me travelling more than any other, between vacation, running courses, meetings and other things going on I have lived out of a backpack for nearly a month and have had quite a good time doing it!  It reminds me how much I love the part of my job that is pioneering; creating, dreaming, and building things that no one has ever done before. It’s such a privilege that I get to be a part of this!

Yesterday morning, first thing Monday, I needed to get to the local hospital to sort out a problem… which (side note) is actually what my job title should be – problem solver.  On the way to the hospital I needed to stop and get fuel for the vehicle I was driving.  I got to the fuel station, and sorry, you can’t get fuel, it’s all gone.  Okay.  So I continued on to the hospital where I was to have a meeting, and after waiting awhile, came to find out sorry, you can’t have a meeting, he is gone.  Okay.  So then I continued on to the airport where I was supposed to pick up two colleagues from their time abroad and bring them back to the ship.  The arrival time of the flight came and went, with no sign of the plane… And all I could think was, man, 0 for 3… if they don’t actually show, I might as well just go to bed and try again tomorrow! 

Thankfully they did arrive and after settling them back in our floating home I headed back to the hospital to wait a bit longer for a meeting.  Mornings like that can be frustrating – it feels like I haven’t really actually done anything.  Other days, days that aren’t spent in a whole lot of waiting, when I can hardly breathe between one thing and another, can still end with me wondering “what did I actually do today?”

Something that I have realized lately, in my waiting and in my busy and in my wondering what did I actually accomplish today, is that somehow I have come to believe my worth is found in the capacity of my productivity. The value of me is actually the summation of everything I accomplished.  So when it feels like I don’t accomplish much, I feel rather like I haven’t earned my space on the ship or in the universe.

But I know that’s not true, I know that what I can do doesn’t change who I am and what I bring to the ship or to the universe.  So I keep telling myself that.  And I keep showing up every day, trying to do a good thing and help a few people and shine light into dark places and letting myself be seen.  It’s an incredible journey and I’m grateful for the friends along the way who encourage me to continue in the becoming.  

The becoming of me, the becoming of someone who finds joy in the waiting, who can stand tall and know her worth regardless of the checks on the to-do list or the emails answered or the lives transformed.  Those are all great things, but they should not ever diminish the greatest thing – that is the journey, that is life to the full; that is the experience and the joy and the value of breathing, and being, and becoming.

The Glory of God is (a wo)man fully alive. –St. Irenaeus

Sunset in Toamasina, 25 January 2016

Kind.

2016 un-resolutions:

1.       Laugh

2.       Create

3.       Enough

4.       Kind

I like one-word resolutions.  Easy to remember.

I am not a very kind person to myself.   If I talked to my friends the way I talk to myself, I certainly wouldn’t have any friends.

I’ve known this a long time. It’s not like this is a new, earth shattering idea. But for some reason I never was able to take the sentiment beyond just a sentiment and into actual practice.  Yes I know I’m not an idiot, but I am certainly going to keep telling myself I am, thank you very much. Maybe then I can get my act together.

Somehow over my vacation I realized that I have this deeply held belief that if I just get my sh** together, nothing would go wrong or I wouldn’t make mistakes  or everything would be peachy keen jelly bean.

That is the definition of shame.  Not that I have a problem but that I am a problem.

And it is reflected in how I talk to myself.  But the thing is, it doesn’t work.  Stasi Eldredge reminds me in her awesome book Becoming Myself that shame is never a motivator for change.

Just before the New Year I read this article from Storyline: http://storylineblog.com/2016/01/04/you-are-in-a-relationship-with-yourself-make-it-a-healthy-one/

And for some reason, it clicked.  I am in an unhealthy relationship… with myself.

And I started talking to myself the way I would talk to a friend. 

And you know what? Something has shifted.  I'm a failure has been replaced with I make mistakes sometimes. And I am learning and growing and becoming and smart and a good friend. Among other things. 

I’m determined and committed to be kind to myself.  And I want to encourage you to do the same.

Try it. For one day. Or one hour. Or after one mistake.   You won't regret it. 

Enough.

Well, so far in January I’ve spent less than 48 hours on the ship; this last week was spent in Antananarivo running an anesthesia course plus other meetings about other projects plus some follow up on previous projects.  As I wandered out last night to put some trash in the dumpster on the dock, I glanced up at the stars and was suddenly overwhelmed with awe – here I am, on a boat, in Madagascar, helping patients and medical professionals experience transformation in their lives and practices… all the while I am continually being transformed myself.  It’s not just for the patients.  It’s for every person who walks up the gangway. 

I’ve enjoyed grasping moments to create and finding time to laugh every single day.  It’s changing my perspective and my outlook and my emotional stability as well as my friends are grateful, I am sure.   Here’s #3 on the 2016 focus list (I still dislike the word resolutions)

3. I want to cultivate a mentality of enough in my life.

Enough [ih-nuhf]
Adj: adequate for the want or need; sufficient for the purpose or to satisfy desire
Adv: in a quantity or degree that answers a purpose or satisfies a need or desire; sufficiently

One of my all-time favorite books is Steven Covey’s The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People and in it he suggests within one of the habits that we live in a scarcity mentality, but we are meant to view the world with an abundance mentality. I’ve tried to live in this mentality since I read that book a few years ago, but recently it was brought up again in Daring Greatly by Brene Brown in a different way.  

What is the first thing I think when my alarm goes off in the morning?  I didn’t get enough sleep. 

When I start to go through my day in my head, the next thought is often I don’t have enough time.

There, before I have even lifted my head or put my feet on the floor I’m already feeling not enough.  I’m already inadequate, with insufficient resources, and I spend the rest of my day trying to claw my way out of scarcity, into enough. 

At the end of the day what fills my head? What I didn’t get done, how much I am already behind on tomorrow’s tasks, how late it is and how little sleep I will now be able to get.   Scarcity is a hole I will constantly fight to dig my way out of but never will succeed.  But what if all it took was a change of position? What if I just never got into the hole in the first place?

And this is just me, personally, in my day-to-day existence. This doesn’t even touch on the scarcity mentality we have in large groups, organizations, working groups, etc. (which is Covey’s focus). That thing that makes you jealous of someone else getting recognition for something that isn’t really that awesome… what I did last week was more awesome than that and no one recognized me…. That comes out of a scarcity mentality.  That there is only so much recognition, or favor, or blessing, or whatever to go around and if someone else gets it that means you won’t. 

Covey says the opposite of scarcity is abundance.  Brown says it is enough.

I think it is both.

Because when we are living in a scarcity mentality, which we all are, enough feels like abundance.

I have come that they might have life, and have it abundantly. ~Jesus, John 10:10

He is able to do immeasurably more than all we can ask or imagine. Ephesians 3:20

More than I can ask or imagine, otherwise known as abundance, to me, today, is a good restful sleep and a productive feeling day. Actually, that isn’t abundance.  That is enough.  Abundance is a gift that I don’t know what I would do with right now. And may be a topic for a different blog post someday.

But for today, what does this mean?

When I wake up, I am taking captive the first thought of “I didn’t get enough sleep” and replacing it with something along the lines of “thanks God that I got to wake up today; thanks in advance for the energy to rise to the occasion, with excellence”. 

I’m trying to take captive any thought of scarcity…. Things like I am not smart enough or rested enough or I don’t work hard enough or I don’t have enough friends or I am not friendly enough or I am not outgoing enough or not in good enough shape or not pretty enough or not strong enough or…...  (And that’s just the tip of the iceberg!)

I have enough time today to get everything done that I need to get done for today.  I trust God with what that means. Sometimes it means things further down the priority list don’t get done.  Sometimes it’s more time for work projects and sometimes it is more time for school and sometimes it is more time for friends and sometimes it is more time for sleep.  All is unto the Lord and all is holy.

I am enough, I have enough, and there is enough to go around.

Breathe deeply in that. There is enough. You are enough. 

Peace. And all is well again. 

Create.

First off, thanks for all the kind words, funny videos, memes, messages, etc.   Yes, things have been hard, but yes, I am really doing okay, I promise!   But keep sending things like that.  I won’t reply to every single one, but I do very much appreciate every single one.

And now, without further ado…

2.   Create

I’ve always said and believed I am not a creative person.  But my narrow definition of ‘creative’ has been that of the fine, visual arts – as in, I’m not an artist by way of paint or pen.  I don’t enjoy most crafty type things and even when I try to doodle I can’t. 

But I am creative.

Recently I read a book I highly recommend called The gifts of imperfection: Letting go of who you think you’re supposed to be and embrace who you are by Brene Brown.    Brilliant, in one word.  So good.

In this book the author outlines 10 ‘guideposts’ of what it takes to life a wholehearted life (read the book) and one of them really jumped out at me as something important – cultivate creativity.

Brene says: "When people asked me about crafting or art or creating, I relied on the standard I’m not the creative type.  On the inside I was really thinking, Who has time for painting and scrapbooking and photography when the real work of achieving and accomplishing needs to be done??"

This Brene person just totally gets me.

Her conclusion after lots and lots of study on this?

1.    There is no such thing as not creative – there are only people who use their creativity and people who don’t.  Unused creativity doesn’t just disappear.  It lives within us until it’s expressed, neglected to death, or suffocated by resentment and fear.

2.      The only unique contribution that we will ever make in this world will be born out of our creativity.

Another book I highly recommend? Big Magic: Creative living beyond fear by Elizabeth Gilbert.  She writes that creativity and inspiration are within us and all around us – and askes the beautiful question of Do you have the courage to bring forth the treasures that are hidden within you?

Creativity, and fear, and vulnerability, and joy are all inexorably and indisputably intertwined.  What keeps us from being creative?  Fear of being seen as lacking. Fear of a poor review. Fear of criticism.  

BUT

A creative life is an amplified life.  It’s a bigger life, a happier life, an expanded life, and a hell of a lot more interesting life. Elizabeth Gilbert

That sounds a lot like life to the full.

Which is worth fighting for.

So just like I am choosing laughter, I am also choosing to create.

My creative outlet at the moment? You’re looking at it.  You’ll see I’ve already written more in the last three days than I did the entire month of December.  I am certainly open to other creative outlets, but I don’t have the time or energy or desire to pick up painting right now, or anything else like that. I do have the desire to write… but I often think I don’t have time or it’s not good enough or who am I anyway to think anyone would read that.  But I know God has given me a gift with words and I am desperate to steward that gift well…  and choose courage… bringing forth the treasures that are hidden within me.  I’m choosing to grab the half hour I have today with the whispers of inspiration in my head and pound out these words that I think are just bigger than me and believe even if they are rubbish, that is not the verdict on who I am.

I’ve also realized in the last few months that what I love to do more than anything, in terms of my work or that which takes up the majority of my time and energy this season, is to create.  I love creating programs and systems and structures and trying things out and fixing and improving things… and then handing them off to someone else to maintain.  I’m not a maintenance person. I’m a creative person.  

So as I put one foot in front of the other and draw up the courage to hit publish and bring forth other treasures within me - whether they are new ideas for changing the face of healthcare in Africa, or words on a page and words on a screen, or encouraging those around me to be creative as an act of rebellion against fear - I invite you to do the same.

Bring forth the treasures within you. 

Laugh.

So I don’t really do ‘new year’s resolutions’ because I don’t like the idea of changing something major based on a calendar day.  However because the first of the year and my birthday and my time away all coincide, I have been naturally reflective and asking myself, my friends, and God what I can do to make this year a little less… well… difficult. 

I also get a bit freaked out when I try to think about the year ahead – changing behavior for a whole a year seems like an excessively daunting task.  But I can change my behavior tomorrow. And then we will see how it goes. Considering the simplicity of my list, I would think one successful day might lead to a second and a third.  We’ll see.  

I've got four at the moment, and feel each one is worth a post. So for now, drumroll please....

1.      Laugh more than I cry.

I’ve cried a lot in the last three months.  For a variety of reasons, some of which will end up being posted on this blog eventually, some of which won’t.  And I don’t think crying is bad.  I’ve said it a lot, I am glad I can feel because that means I am alive.  And I feel deeply.  But the last few months there have just been far too many tears and not enough laughter.   For me, for now, anyway – tears seem to come very naturally but laughter doesn’t.  SO I have decided that I need to be very intentional about laughing at least once a day – more than a chuckle or a smile.  True laughter.

Why?

Well, it’s fun. But beyond that it has a whole lot of health benefits. :click here for an interesting link on health benefits of laughter:

It’s about one of the healthiest things you can do for your body, actually. Physiologically it changes your body chemistry to less stress and more joy.  I’d like that.  I need that. We all do!      

    

Considering how much I have cried lately, I need to either laugh a whole lot, or cry less.  A combination of the two is preferred, and I’ve sorted out a few things in my head that will hopefully decrease the crying frequency. However, I still don’t laugh enough.  Laughter is contagious, so I will be intentionally putting myself in the path of other funny people around here, but I do travel a lot and work and school makes social time difficult….

SO I am asking for your help!  A kind of emotional support, if you will.

Have you seen a video that was just hilarious? Not chuckle worthy but laugh out loud for extended time funny? Send me the link.

Or a photo or a comic or a short story? Send them my way. I don’t have a lot of time (thus the requirement that it be worthy of more than a smile or a chuckle… that would be insufficient) but if I have come to the end of my day and haven’t laughed enough, I will be looking for things.  Or if I wake up a bit earlier than usual, that would be a great way to start my day.

I challenge you, all of my friends, family, and readers, to help me to laugh.  And if you are reading this and you are on the AFM – bring it on, too!

Comment on this blog, send me an email, a facebook message, imessage to my email address, carrier pigeon, snail mail, or a post-it note on my door, all welcome.

I can’t wait to laugh with you.

stay tuned for #2-#4….  xxk

Happy New Year

Whelp, somehow we are over a week through 2016 already; the halls are un-decked, the busy second half of the field service has started up again and grouchy comments about cold weather and snow are filling up my Facebook feed. 

I've just returned from a beautiful week away; on a beach in northern Madagascar with no electronic devices except a Kindle full of books of the non-academic variety.  It was the week in between grad school modules so I was able to truly switch off and enjoy some sunshine, rest, and adventure with a dear friend. It was desperately needed, I felt like the last few weeks of December were far from my best; I was short and tired and grouchy and my daily prayer was reduced to the hope that I wouldn't irreparably destroy any project or relationship that couldn't be fixed later. Thankfully, grace abounds, and as far as I know neither has happened, and I am happy to be back here again in a much more pleasant-to-be-around state of mind. 

It's full speed ahead; I returned just yesterday morning and head out tomorrow to Antananarivo to run a course there, hold some meetings about upcoming training, and try to do some follow up on previous courses.  My next module of grad school has started; I am now six months into the two-plus year program and really, really enjoying it.  I am such a learner, and I find the topics of study fascinating.  I got my grades from the previous module and am still passing 'with merit', which is encouraging.  

My christmas cards are still sitting in the bag on my desk; not sure when I will get to them, so apologies and sincere thanks to all my supporters and friends and family.  Special thanks for the surprise end-of-year donations that came thru while I was away!  I couldn't do this without you all - so my sincerest and deepest gratitude. 

Happy New Year!  Blessings and favor over this new year, and always.  

This was the sunset on Dec 31, 2015 in Anjimarango, Madagascar. A beautiful goodbye to a beautiful year.

xxk

Best.

‘Tis the season here on the Africa Mercy; the halls have been decked and the garland hung and snowflakes are pasted on the inside of windows where just outside the sweltering heat of the southern hemisphere summer reflects off the sand and the palm trees. 

Last Sunday was the first Sunday of Advent; our regular Sunday night service was a beautiful opening to a beautiful season, with a mélange of carols and words and candles and accents and languages and traditions all rolled up into this crazy wonderful community I get to call home.

The first song was a familiar one; sung multiple times every year for each of my thirty-four Christmases I am sure. The Little Drummer Boy, pa rum pum pum pum.  It was sung beautifully with some accompanying musicians and the room was lively and you could feel the excitement in the air.  As we were singing, I was captured by these lines:

I played my best for Him… Then He smiled at me.

I don’t know the real story behind the song and I don’t really need to. The words are still powerful. I imagine this little boy banging on a handmade drum in a barn.  I don’t know a lot of famous drummers either, but for the sake of analogy or allegory or metaphor (not sure which this is), let’s replace drum with cello.

This little kid did not play like Yo-Yo Ma.

Or replace it with piano.

His performance was not rivaling Chopin or Mozart or even Jim Brickman.

Or maybe opera singing.

He was not blowing Andrea Boccelli out of the water right there in that barn.

So whatever the equivalent of those brilliant musicians is in the drumming world, this kid was not them.  I am sure he played well. I am sure he put his entire heart into the performance.  I am also sure there was probably a miss-hit or two (whatever the drumming equivalent is of a wrong note) and he was technically good but not blow me out of the water amazing.

But he gave his best.  And God incarnate smiled at him.

He does the same for us.

Right now I’m not functioning at 100%.  It’s been a hard season and a demanding season and I’ve found myself teetering on the edge of burnout.  So the option was to scale back a bit or to go home.  Since I really don’t believe it is time to go home, I’ve scaled back a bit.  For a short season.  Because functioning at 75% of normal is better than not functioning at all.  My perfectionistic passionate side hates that.   I tend to be a woman of extremes; if I can’t do something excellent I don’t want to do it at all.  (and usually, in my head, excellent = perfect) But God reminded me, in that little song on Sunday night, that He smiles at our best. He blesses our best. Excellence does not mean perfect. Excellence means our best.  

He’s not expecting me to play like Yo-Yo Ma or Chopin.  He’s not expecting me to be as productive as that superhuman coworker with the incredible capacity.  He’s not expecting me to be as social or as orderly or as seemingly put together as anyone else. He’s not expecting you to have the most beautiful house decorations or the most perfect party or the picture postcard family Christmas experience.  That’s where comparison steals joy.  He’s expecting me to play like me and you to play like you.  That’s our best.  And He smiles at that.

He’s smiling at me, when 75% of normal is my best.  He’s smiling when I hit a wrong note or cry or pursue truth and joy and life to the full.  My best isn’t perfection.   My best is putting one foot in front of the other and trying to honor God with my life.  Sometimes that is long work days. Sometimes that is sleeping extra late. Sometimes it is sunset dinners with friends.  All of it is unto the Lord and all of it is holy.

And He smiles.  

May we all see and believe He smiles upon us in this season of Advent; a season of hope, of promises fulfilled, of God around us and among us and within us. 

Pa rum pum pum pum. 

Next.

I just spent my seventh Thanksgiving on the African continent.  (note: yes, a previous post said eighth. unintentional math fail. apologies to every math teacher I ever had)

2009 Benin

2010 Benin

2011 Sierra Leone

2012 Guinea

2013 Republic of Congo

2014 Madagascar

2015 Madagascar

This is not the life I dreamed of as a little kid.  This is not the road I ever imagined I would walk.  Looking back at the twists and turns and surprises I feel nothing but gratitude.  Maybe that is why I have made it back to the states occasionally throughout the last seven years for other holidays but never Thanksgiving.

So what is next?

If you remember this post in 2014 we were supposed to be in Guinea, and then in Benin, but ended up in Madagascar.  This stunning country was never on my radar and while I still grieve for Guinea I am eternally grateful to have experienced this incredible place and her beautiful people, her beautiful beaches, her uniquely different culture and customs and weather patterns and personalities. The relaxed pace of life in this small coastal city is entirely different to the chaos of the large port cities in other countries. There are so many things to do and places to see and beauty to experience, it has been such a joy to be a part of this place for two years.

We will continue to serve here in Madagascar until we sail away in June, 2016, for a stop in South Africa and then onward to our next destination.  Benin.

When I left Benin after serving there over two years filled with blood, sweat, tears, sickness, love, pain, and joy; when I said goodbye to the people I had loved on and lived with and poured myself into; when I flew away into the next adventure, I never thought I would return.  I didn’t really want to return.  And when we were scheduled to return in 2014 I was simultaneously sick with fear and filled with excitement.   I left a piece of my heart in Benin, my first Africa experience, the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.  So after making peace with it all in 2014 and looking forward, after that trip was cancelled in 2014 I once again thought the return to the place that tried to take me out but only made me stronger was slipping through my fingers.  I put all that hope on a shelf, wondering if it would ever be needed.

But here we are, pulling it back off the shelf and dusting it off, planning our next field service while entrenched in the current one; we are scheduled to sail into Cotonou, Benin in August or September 2016. I’m excited.  I’m excited because much of what was so hard before – seeing so much need and not being able to do anything about it – won’t be as hard this time.  I’m excited to visit my village and other villages and help make surgery and childbirth safer.  I’m excited for $0.25 beans and palm oil sauce at Mama’s mud hut kitchen; I’m excited for beautiful fabrics, for Secret Shawarma, and Beninoise in a bottle; and most of all I am excited for the beautiful men, women, and children who will be able to experience hope and healing for perhaps the very first time.

It’s a privilege and an honor to continue on this path. Thank you for your support – financial, emotional, and physical – and encouragement as I continue to put one foot in front of the other and seek to honor God with every step.  

Beauty in the Broken.

I was in Berlin, Germany last May and visited the Hillsong church for a Sunday morning service.  As with any Hillsong church you ever have the chance to visit, the music was incredible.  We sang in English and there was one song that really stuck with me.  It repeated over and over that “God will not be shaken”.  One of the leaders stepped up in the middle of the song and said something about how we sometimes sing songs that say we won’t be shaken, but really? We will. It’s God that won’t be shaken.  Then we continued singing the song… and it haunted me.  I googled the lyrics, what I could remember of them, for days and weeks afterward.  Even just a few weeks ago I was trying to remember them to try to google them again and still couldn’t find the song.

Then, I purchased the new Hillsong album on Itunes and had it on in the background while I did schoolwork – and what song came on?? The one we sang in Berlin!  There it was.  And it was still powerful.

Now in God we trust, in His name we hope

I know, God will not be shaken

God is here with us, He’s already won

I know, God will not be shaken

(In God we Trust, Hillsong)

~~

I will be shaken. 

We all will.

There is not one among us who, regardless of how incredible and strong and vibrant and solid and definitive our faith in God is, wouldn’t be shaken by a simple phone call. There has been an accident or It’s cancer or There’s been another attack.

I am shaken.  Syria. Mali. Paris. North Minneapolis. Brussels. Myanmar. New Zealand. Liberia.

And then if I take my eyes off the crying, broken world and put them back on my own little story? I am still shaken.

I can go from happy to tears in approximately .005 seconds.   Honestly.  A friend chooses to spend time with someone else.  Words somehow get twisted between speaking and hearing and misunderstandings open the door to doubt and fear and despair. Someone makes it clear they don’t really like me. I feel used, excluded, unwanted, lonely, unseen, unloved.

I am so easily shaken.

But my eyes aren’t supposed to be on my crying, broken self.  They aren’t supposed to be on the crying, broken world either. 

Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus. Hebrews 12:1-2

What a relief!  I don’t have to keep staring, appalled and open mouthed, as the world falls apart yet again or as I fall apart yet again. 

I can fix my eyes on something else.  Something that is beauty within the broken.

I have to.  The alternative is just too awful. I can’t stand looking at the broken around me.  I can’t stand looking at the broken within me.  I have to look at Jesus, who sees the good beyond the broken, can bring peace to chaos, hope to the hopeless, and bring joy out of despair.  I can’t do those things myself.  Neither can you.  Neither can movie stars or politicians or aid workers or pastors, no matter how good of a heart they have or how good of ideas they have or how many supporters they have or how much money they have.   They, too, are shaken.  Just like you and me. 

~~

The older I get the more I realize that Jesus really is always the answer.

He is the only thing that will not be shaken.  Let us fix our eyes on Him. Let us hold on to His hand throughout the shaking and the shifting and the burning and the crying.

He’s already won.

It’s a relief. 

Even as I write this, likely the most bluntly Jesus focused blog I have ever written, I feel the peace in those words.  It’s not about me. It’s not about you. It’s about him. It always has been, and always will be.

To the only God our Savior be all glory, majesty, power, and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now, and forevermore. Amen.  Jude 1:25

xxk

Seasons.

Yesterday I had a really great day.

That might not sound like a really big deal.  You probably think I have a lot of great days. And I do. I tend to write about those.  The highlights.  The encouraging and the profound and the exciting and the cool.

But you may also have noticed I’ve been rather quiet this last several weeks on the blog.  I haven’t had a lot of great days.  It’s been really difficult season, actually.  So the fact that yesterday was a really good day is worthy of celebration.

~~

It has been a season of knowing.

I find myself quite often lately wondering what my future holds, how long I will do this thing, where we will sail to next and how do I fit in the grand scheme of things.  

I start to get anxious when I think too far ahead.  I am coming up on my eighth thanksgiving in Africa and I never fathomed my little adventure would turn into what it has.  People ask how long will do you do this or where do you see yourself in five years and I just shrug my shoulders and say honoring God with my life and helping people, somewhere in the world.  If I try to define the structure any more than that, my heart starts to beat a little too quickly and the doubt starts to creep in and the darkness whispers who do you think you are and I start the downward spiral.

So instead of wondering how I fit in or where I belong in the coming months and years; I stop wondering and start knowing – knowing exactly what honoring God with my life and helping people looks like tomorrow.  It looks like shining light in dark places. It looks like giving the person who is in need in front of me my full attention.   It looks like speaking truth and life, be them words of greeting or encouragement or correction or blessing.  It looks like embracing my gifts and abilities as well as my faults and failures, fully aware that both are required to be a member of the human race.

I don’t need to wonder and worry over the future. I know what tomorrow looks like. That’s enough.

~~

It has been a season of climbing.

It might surprise you unless you have known me awhile, but I have always really struggled with feeling like a failure.  I know it is ridiculous and irrational and all evidence is to the contrary. But it still plagues me.

God, I am sick of seeing everything through the lens of failure. Please help.

I feel like I have prayed that prayer a million times and yet keep tripping up.  So then I think maybe it is unbeatable, maybe I won’t or can’t or shouldn’t, and if I let my thoughts drop even lower and deeper I wonder if God is maybe holding out on me, like a mean father holding something precious just out of reach, laughing as I jump and reach and flail and fall trying to get to it. But I know that the heart of my Father is one that is good; and maybe it just takes a million and one or a million and a hundred or a million billion prayers before the breakthrough comes, but I know it will come. And it is worth pressing through and pursuing. 

After all, to see the view from the top of the mountain you actually have to climb it; which is easier for the smaller mountains but the higher ones will take grit, determination, drive, a few bruises and a bloody knee; some stretches where I am gasping to even take in enough oxygen to keep my heart beating, let alone keep climbing.  I think about stopping and I dream about stopping but something within me keeps me pushing harder; maybe it’s the promise of a good view, or a nap in a hammock, or pancakes and syrup, which are pretty good things. Maybe it’s freedom.  That’s definitely worth pursuing.  I know what it is like on the smaller mountains and that knowledge is what keeps me pressing forward towards the summit.  People tell me mountain climbing is like a drug; once you see the top once you can’t wait for the next time.   I think that is true in the figurative too.  I know that I will make it to the top of this mountain.    And I will celebrate and enjoy the view, but know that I will not be satisfied and will start looking towards the next peak to conquer.

~~

It has been a season of learning from kids.

I realized I have the tendency to make things so much more complicated than they need to be.  A friend is a bit short in response to something and I immediately wonder if they are upset or did I blow it or that thing I said two weeks ago that they said didn’t offend them really did or maybe I did something wrong earlier and upset them or if only I could do something to make it better all would be okay but I can’t and wow what a failure I am as a friend.  Sigh. 

There are two little girls on the ship that keep coming to mind – A and E, both kindergartners.  If I went up to E and asked her why do you spend time with A she would say because she’s my friend. Simple as that. 

She’s not wondering and thinking and assuming and spiraling.  If they disagree, they get upset for like thirty seconds… and then they move on.  Guarantee they aren’t thinking about it even fifteen minutes later, let alone weeks like I tend to do. The recurrent wow you really blew it isn’t plaguing their thoughts as it does mine.

We’re all really just kids, trying to do the best we can here on earth.  I’m trying to simplify my thought patterns and use E and A as my teachers.  Say what we mean.  See the best. Assume others say what they mean.  If they don’t, that’s their problem, not mine.  Believe the compliments. Receive the problems with grace, sort things out quickly, don’t hold grudges and for goodness sake don’t waste time with mental gymnastics that are based far from reality. 

~~

It has been a lonely season.

Work has been extremely busy. And when you live where you work and your friends are also your coworkers, there is really no way to stop.  Still, I love what I get to be a part of.  When I am not working I am doing school work.  I love it, too, for the most part.  I love learning and I love being able to apply it to my work.  Academic writing is getting easier and I am doing well.  All good.

Many people ask or wonder out loud how on earth I can handle a very demanding job and being a student at the same time.  Honestly? It’s a lonely existence.  It’s the social that gets cut, and I knew that when I decided to pursue graduate school.  Because the only other thing left to cut is sleep, and if you know me at all you know that would be a disaster from day one.  So most evenings you find me either at my desk in my office or at my desk in my bedroom.  This isn’t a season where I meet and pursue relationships with new people. And that makes me a little sad.   And is rather isolating. 

I know that I know it’s the right thing to do, and it’s the right thing to cut. But that doesn’t make the lonely any less painful.

~~

It has been a season of beauty.

What we get to be a part of, throughout the difficulties and pains and tears, is incredible.  I get to be a part of hope and healing and shining light into dark places.  Last week I was walking down the long hospital hallway, my mind on the to-do list and not on where I was.  A girl in pigtails with a toothy grin and her legs thigh-high in casts hobbled up and grabbed my hand.  We looked at each other, my conscious snapped to attention, and held hands and walked together all down the hallway, neither saying a word and both grinning like there was no tomorrow.  She got to where she was going and let go of my hand and waved as she turned into her ward and I kept walking towards my office.  It was a beautiful moment that just reminded me why we do this thing.

The projects I help with are incredible.  Read this about the checklist project, a blog I wrote a few days ago for Mercy Ships – https://mymercy.mercyships.org/blogs/45/85 

Last weekend I went away and while I still did school work away I spent a significant amount of time connecting with friends and reveling in the beauty that is the Madagascar rain forest.  I forget how much I need beauty until I haven’t had it for awhile.  I’ve also started making it a habit to watch the sunset at least once a week.  Such beauty deserves an audience. 

Thank you for your support and love through all life's seasons. xxk