Mismatched.

Whenever I host a dinner party there's about 10 minutes right before guests arrive where I have nothing to do. Everything is clean. The table is set. The food needs to stay in the oven just a couple more minutes. Usually, in those 10 minutes I take a moment to sit down and wait. This often gives me just the right amount of time to over analyze the meal and my preparations. If only I had taken time to get fresh flowers or if only I would have dusted that picture frame above the TV. I can be a little obsessive over the details in that small window before guests arrive.

Last night, just before youth leaders filled my tiny home for dinner, I took a second to over analyze the assortment of chairs around the two tables I had set up for dinner. It's easy to dress up a table. Throw a table cloth and some center pieces on it and it's a little more pulled together. But there's not a whole lot you can do about ugly folding chairs and mismatched kitchen chairs from Ikea.

For a second last night, I longed for a beautiful formal dinning room with one long table filled with perfectly matching chairs. Images of Pottery Barn show rooms flashed through my mind. For a second all I could focus on was the ugly metal folding chairs instead of the beauty of the meal I had prepared for a group of people I cherish. For that moment, I wasn't focused on the blessing of being able to host dear student ministry volunteers and friends instead all I could see was the mismatched and the tiny apartment.

And then as quickly as those 10 minutes came...guests arrived and they were gone. No one mentioned the mismatched chairs. When I crawled into bed last night I opened up my devotional to my Advent reading, Luke 2:4-8,

    

 ^"So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night.  An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a signto you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”

How many times have I read this scripture? Dozens and dozens of time. It hit me in a whole new way. God brought His Son into the world in the most mismatched and humble way. He used teenagers and shepherds. There is nothing pulled together or Pottery Barn show room about being born in a barn filled with animals. It reminded me how often I  get so caught up in the details that I forget about the joy God brings into the world through the most mismatched & unlikely of situations. 

I started thinking about what if the Church looked a little more mismatched? I think about the big churches and student ministry models that we sometimes feel stacked up too...if only we had a Starbucks in the Narthex or a multi-million dollar youth facility...and don't get me wrong, I know those tools are used to further the Kingdom. But I'm wondering instead of looking up to those huge pillars of ministry...we started with what we have. If ministry began in our homes & our neighborhoods and moved up from there. If adoption & foster parenting wasn't so foreign but something we talked about and prayed about more together in the Church...if our internal ministry events look more like outward opportunities to love those who live all around us. It could be a little messy. It may not match up to what we've always been before. 

But I'm sensing an urgency in my own heart to not be okay with the norm. I'm thankful for this season of Advent that serves as a reminder that as we wait there's still room to let God move and work in our hearts. I'm praying that I can surrender the need for it all to be pulled together & that I would recognize the joy in the mismatched. 

One Of Those Days

I'm having one of those days in student ministry where I don't have any programming responsibilities or commitments with my students today & yet I woke before the sun was up feeling a heaviness to cover them with prayer. To surrender them one by one to my Father because I feel the burden of their struggles and of being a teenager and know that there's no way I can protect them from the pain of this world. A heaviness in knowing all I can do is surrender them in prayer & strive to lead a ministry that points them to Jesus.

Days like today are an honor. Their faces fill my heart & my mind. So much to thank God for in the gift of each of them. Days like today are also hard. It's a reminder of the type of calling student ministry is and the weight of opportunity it brings to further the Kingdom.

I ended up at the gym this morning when I could no longer sleep. As soon as I climbed onto the treadmill I thought about how much I'd rather be back in bed. My God who knows every thought in my head, filled my heart in that instant with this verse: "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us." Hebrews 12:1

Student Ministry. Teenage Years. Growing nearer to Jesus. All of these wonderful and hard gifts are not a sprint. They require perseverance and prayer and surrendering. Heartache doesn't heal overnight, a close walk with the Lord doesn't happen instantly after an alter call & youth groups don't go from 50 to 500 in 3 years...and not on our own accord.

I'm thankful for the reminder on the humbling and hard days that my Father can handle it even when I get tangled up in my own sin of worry and struggle to surrender. That He's designed me for the long haul with Him and He can use a treadmill & an unexpected early Saturday morning to help remind me of His care for me and each of the students I'm so honored to know and love.

Bubbles

I've been thinking a lot about the bubbles I find myself surrounded in. It's easy to take everything that's important to me and isolate those things in their own bubble. Whether it's my ministry life, my personal life, the way I spend my time & my resources. I often find myself protective over what's mine.

I don't think I'm the only one, right? I look around at the culture around us and there are silos everywhere. Family time. Work time. Even my down-time for the most part is a bubble of my life that is about me...whether it's spent cleaning or doing laundry. It seems easiest to put a big cone around it and call it my own and move on.

Friday mornings are one of my favorite weekly bubbles. It's time spent with a group of Lawrence North students through the Radical LN--Campus Life group, led by Chris Rickelman. I love those early mornings, despite what my glasses, messy pony tail & running clothes might be saying, I really do love beginning the day with this group & God's Word.

Last Friday, we read together in Mark 2 about Jesus healing the paralytic. I've read this story dozens of times throughout my life, but when we studied it last Friday morning--God connected his message in this miracle of healing through Jesus with this thought of life bubbles that I've had rolling around in my heart.

The part of the passage that struck me in a new way, was the boldness and determination of the paralytics friends to get him to Jesus. These guys were willing to cut a hole in the roof of a house to lower him down to be near Jesus.

"And they came, bringing to him a paralytic carried by four men.  And when they could not get near him because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him, and when they had made an opening, they let down the bed on which the paralytic lay.  And when Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” 

There's a lot we don't know about these men who brought the paralytic to the feet of Jesus. I'm pretty sure it's safe to guess that they all had other stuff going on in their lives. They all had bubbles filled with different obligations and priorities. But they got it. They had the boldness, heart and desire to bring their friend to Jesus no matter what it took. They knew that through Him came healing and redemption. It was worth it to take the time & energy to see this through.

I've been thinking a lot about how many missed opportunities I've had to bring others to Jesus because I've been so isolated within my own bubbles. Even my own ministry. I love that in this story it doesn't say that one dude carried the paralytic to Jesus--but 4 men came together to bring their friend to him. And Jesus saw their faith instantly. I love that reminder--we weren't called or designed to be in this on our own. God has called us to boldness in our faith together. I want more of that boldness. I'm praying for it...I'm clinging to God's grace to help change my heart, to let down the walls of selfishness of my own stuff...the bubbles that fill my life.

I want to be ready to get up on that roof...to be aware of the opportunities I have to lead others to the feet of Jesus.

And when he returned to Capernaum after some days, it was reported that he was at home. And many were gathered together, so that there was no more room, not even at the door. And he was preaching the word to them.  And they came, bringing to him a paralytic carried by four men.  And when they could not get near him because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him, and when they had made an opening, they let down the bed on which the paralytic lay. And when Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Son, your sins are forgiven.”  Now some of the scribes were sitting there, questioning in their hearts,  “Why does this man speak like that? He is blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?”  And immediately Jesus,perceiving in his spirit that they thus questioned within themselves, said to them, “Why do you question these things in your hearts?  Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Rise, take up your bed and walk’?  But that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—he said to the paralytic— “I say to you, rise, pick up your bed, and go home.”  And he rose and immediately picked up his bed and went out before them all, so that they were all amazed and glorified God, saying, “We never saw anything like this!”  Mark 2:1-12

Less

I have not been many places in this world. I have only spent 36 days total outside of the country that is my home. That's not a whole lot of time. Let me begin by saying how thankful I am to live in America. How thankful I am for the freedom and opportunity that comes with being born and raised in such a blessed nation. Every time I sing a patriotic song, I have to fight back tears. I was blessed to attend a college where I was required to read and study the Constitution before graduating. I don't take lightly what a blessing it is to call the United States my home.
If my 36 days outside my country have taught me anything--they've opened my eyes to how easy it can be to become caught up in the wrong set of priorities.

A new car. A bigger home. A new outfit for a big event. A cup of coffee handed to me in a matter of minutes. The newest apple product. More and more. My 36 days outside of the land of plenty have taught me that less is enough. What a gift it is to spend time in another country, in another culture and learn from the lives of others. It has been humbling to me to learn time and time again how little is really required to experience joy. When the culture around me in my every day often shouts "upgrade...make more money...buy more stuff..." my time outside of my own culture has reminded me how silly that message can be and how often I buy into it. Friends and others sometimes say to me "I could never do a mission trip like that," or list off the dangers or expense of travelling out of the country. And I can understand where they are coming from. Maybe it isn't for everybody. But I find myself wondering what I would be like without these experiences....without these wake up calls & reminders to help realign me with what is really important. When I study the life of Jesus and the parables he taught, over and over again his followers and disciples didn't fully understand the truth He was pointing them too. It was easy for them to get hung up on the way things should be--or the things he should be saying as a teacher. Don't we get a lot like that ourselves? The church should be teaching this...or preaching this...when often the heart and the truth of where we should align ourselves is right in front of us. I am not pointing the finger here at anyone other than myself. My challenge for myself is to allow the lessons I've learned about joy & selflessness to now become the root of my daily decisions. The way I spend my resources and my time. A friend asked me yesterday, if I would recommend a trip to a developing country to absolutely anyone and without hesitation my answer is yes. And if out of the country seems too far fetched then start with a small step out of your comfort zone...get to know the neighbors on your street, volunteer within a ministry of your church family or within your community. On my bathroom mirror is a post-it note, with this reminder "Joy doesn't mean more." 36 days have helped me with this wake up call...I have a long way to go but am praising God for His grace in the midst of striving..."Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. Ephesians 5:1-2"

Estefania.

                                           





























I remember sitting in the office of my college prof advisor picking the schedule for my first semester of undergrad. It was time to select which foreign language I would study. I had taken  5 years of French in middle school and high school but suddenly I heard the sentence "Sign me up for Spanish 101," come out of my mouth. I remember the look on my parents face when I told them my decision. I think they were confused as to why I would begin a new language at a time where I'd have a lot of other academic transitions ahead. I also, remember the tone in my Dad's voice when I called after a semester of Spanish to ask if I could drop it for a semester. (I didn't end up dropping). Learning a language is not easy for me. I had to work hard for every B, I squeaked by with during those college semesters. But somewhere, deep in my heart I knew that there was a reason I wanted that base knowledge. As a high school senior I remember spouting off the phrase "wanting to do mission work."

It's part of what influenced me to make the language switch in college. Never could I have known the sweet faces that would embrace my small amount of Spanish years later in a small hillside community in Guatemala. For the first day with the children I spent a week with, all I could say over and over again was my name. I wanted them to at least know, they could call me by name and I spent the day working hard to memorize each of theirs...Axel, Kimberly, Jorge, Oliver, Juan, Mary, Deena, Adelita, Archely, Clara, Diego, Diela...the list went on and on as the numbers of children grew over the week I spent in their community. We were tied together by each others names. Although, I would often lack the sentences I wanted to say to them. I could wrap them into a huge hug or pull them into my lap to say "Bueno, Deena" after receiving another crayon drawing or handmade rubberband bracelet. They taught me Jesus Loves Me in Spanish and I taught them Deep in Wide in English. We would skip in a circle with the parachute and they'd just yell over and over "Estefania, Estefania!"

What these sweet children taught me over and over again last week is that love doesn't require many words. Affirmation sometimes means the most through a smile or the look of gratitude from one set of eyes to another. I couldn't say everything I wanted to say to the children, but as tears streamed down my face as I prepared to give final goodbye hugs on the last day, they huddled around me wiping my cheeks and hugging me. They knew how much I had grown to love them. Isn't God's love such a beautiful gift? He ties us together no matter what the barrier between us when we strive to love others in His name. He bridges our differences. Suddenly, Indiana and Guatemala don't seem so far apart & a piece of my heart remains with each of the sweet faces I know and match with a name in my daily prayers.

No matter what happens, always be thankful, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus. 1 Thessalonians 5:18

A Reminder

My beloved prayer journal broke. The 3 ring binder that I bought at the college book store my sophomore year at Hillsdale, literally snapped apart the other night. It's a binder that I have hauled with me all over this country. It survived the move from Michigan to Mississippi & then made it back from Mississippi to Indiana, over 3 years ago. I thought it may last forever....and then it snapped and the notebook pages of years & years of prayers were strewn all over my bedroom carpet.

As I sat down to reorganize them and stick them in a file folder until a new binder can be purchased, this page from 2004 was staring back at me. A reminder. A glimpse at my past self. The unknowns of what waited ahead of me. And here I am, 7 years into full time ministry later, reading these words that I wrote. It seems clear why my journal broke.  I needed to read these words & be reminded of God's faithfulness and provision. I've never shared anything from my prayer journal before, but perhaps the words of a college junior can bring some encouragement to you in that God's plan for your life when it may seem uncertain & hard at times...HE is the author worth trusting in. I'm in awe of this journal entry and all the many blessings God has brought into my life through full time student ministry. Thanks, Father for being so good to me.


October 14, 2004

 Dear Jesus,

I'm scared. I feel you moving and working in my heart in ways that are new and uncertain. It's scary because I'm the girl who has been writing down a wish list of names for my future babies since I was a little girl. I have dreamed and longed for motherhood for as long as I can remember. I have hoped and prayed that college would bring my husband and that chapter of my life. I think I actually came to Hillsdale planning on you to unfold all of that for me the way I'd like that...right now. In some ways, it seems that you are. 

But here's the scary part, Jesus...and I know you know how scary this is for me to even spell out on this page tonight...I am falling in love with youth ministry. Like, really, really falling in love. It's like you are opening doors to my heart and stretching me in ways I never even knew that I could love you--through the ways you are at work in these kids. I want to do this. I feel your call and your nudge for me to say yes to this. 

That's scary. I have a midterm to write and three Collegian deadlines ahead of me tonight & all I can think about is how much I'm falling in love with youth ministry and that I want to follow you down this road. What does this mean for my plans, Lord? What does this mean for the desires of my heart? 

Thank you for knitting me together and for loving me and for placing this on my heart even though I'm not sure how to answer this call. Help me to be faithful. Father, help me to say yes, when I need to and surrender when I need to surrender. 

Lord, I want to pray for the students you will bring into my life. I have no idea what lies ahead but I can sense that there are teenagers who I have yet to meet that you have called me to know and to love. Wherever they are right now, whoever they are, Lord, I lift them to you. 

Help me to have strength & courage in this...thank you in advanced for all the grace you will shower over me as I navigate where you're leading. 

May Your will be done. I love you. Amen.

A Crumbling Heart

7 years ago today. The moment my eyes popped open at the sound of my first alarm, I knew what this day has meant to me each year. As I began to wake up this morning,  the tears quickly crept in as I thought about God's steadfastness over this time. My heart began to flutter a little as I am so tempted to give into fear about the unknown but than the reminder of His faithfulness rushed over me as I laid there this morning.

I thought about how much life can change in 7 years. I thought about the word plans. My plans. God's plan.

7 years ago, on September 17, on a crisp Michigan fall day, my heart crumbled for the first time in full time ministry. It's a date etched in my heart.  I'm a date girl. I remember birthdays, anniversaries & silly mile stones. September 17, is different. It is literally etched into my being.

I had been working in full time ministry for about 4 months. I was young. I was surrounded with ministry partners that were my best friends. In between the ministry schedule, we all had game nights, ate meals together, watched movies & played Rock Band. In many ways, my life seemed easy. I didn't pay rent. I lived in the beautiful church parsonage where part of my compensation was my housing. I had never paid a utility bill in my life. My biggest worries were decorating the youth room & making sure my house had enough cream soda to feed the constant supply of friends & students who came and went every day throughout the days. I was surrounded by people I loved and who loved me.

It was on that day for the first time, that my heart crumbled to what the reality of full time ministry is really about. One of my kids had asked if they could meet with me before evening youth group after church. I thought it was about maybe what games we might play that night or something else surface-y like that...so we made plans to meet up a couple hours before youth group. I went ahead with my post-Sunday worship lunch with friends and an afternoon nap and then walked over to the church in running shorts and a sweatshirt. I hadn't prayed over our meeting together or thought much about it.

When she sat down in my office, tears began streaming down her face. Her sobs were so hard, I couldn't catch the sentences she was trying to form. As she settled down, she began her story of abuse and pain and hurt. Her heart conflicted that how could Jesus ever allow what had happen to her and actually love her too. She told me of her hardened heart and her hate for the church. And as she spoke, my heart crumbled.

My eyes, ears and heart were open in a new way to the pain and heartache that is present in the pursuit of following Jesus fully. This was messy and hard. This wasn't game night in my pretty yellow kitchen, or a giant box of gift cards and notes from my church family for Youth Pastor Appreciation Month. My heart crumbled because I realized this was what Jesus was about. He was about the hurting and the trials. This is what He sacrificed for us when He gave His life on the cross. For the hope and the promise that comes with eternity and His perfection.

Trials and pain and struggle are part of this road. The difference is the light we have to follow in the midst of it--for the truth the waits for us in Him.

In the past couple of weeks, September 17, has not been on my radar. I've been caught up in a lot of that other stuff....in the hardness that has crossed my path some days. And then, my eyes blinked open this morning and God's grace washed over me and reminded me of the day...reminded me of His desire to crumble our hearts anew.

I'm thankful that my God is a God of reminders. That He knows we need them. He knows we need dates that become etched into who we are. That He knows sometimes we need to crumble so we can fully start again.

Brokenness Aside.

I can't shake what happened during worship out of my head. When the offertory music began to fill the sanctuary, a half full cup of coffee spilled underneath the first pew.

In an instant a couple of our high school boys were on their feet, rushing out to get paper towels to clean up the coffee. There were giggles and hushes and muffled, embarrassed laughter over the coffee spilling.

All the while the offertory music playing in the background.

The boys awkwardly rushed back in attempting to soak up the coffee as quietly and cautiously as possible. For a few moments all I could do was take it in and watch. Watch their reaction...the students around them...my eyes darting back to my friends in the band leading the worship song, and suddenly, I found myself putting my hand gently on their shoulders telling the boys to stop. "It's alright," I whispered. We'll figure it out later."

Then the words of the song that had been filling the room hit me...

Will your grace run out
If I let you down 
‘Cause all I know
Is how to run

‘Cause I am a sinner 
If its not one thing its another
Caught up in words 
Tangled in lies 
You are the Savior 
And you take brokenness aside
And make it beautiful 
Beautiful 

Will you call me child
When I tell you lies 
Cause all I know 
Is how to cry 

I am a sinner 
If its not one thing its another 
Caught up in words 
Tangled in lies 
You are the Savior 
And you take brokenness aside
And make it beautiful 
Beautiful 


A half glass of spilled coffee on the carpet was a reminder of something bigger. How often do we enter into worship trying to hide our messes. How often do we sit before our Creator trying to cover up the mistakes & sit in denial of the sin that sometimes consumes us. How easy is it to think we have to come to worship...to our church family without the messiness of our everyday lives. It seems easier to hide it, to tuck it away for an hour before facing it again.

What if instead of hiding it behind polite "Good Mornings" and handshakes, we wrapped ourselves in the reminder that Our Savior takes the brokenness...takes the spills and the messes...that He puts it aside and turns our lives into beauty through His grace.

Sometimes, I need those tangible reminders that it's okay to just stop and sit before my Father in the midst of my mess. That He walks with me and holds me even when I am too stubborn to surrender and try to clean it all up on my own.

Coffee comes up out of the carpet & the grace and forgiveness of Jesus is real in the midst of the messes and spills.

first day of school

I have a love/hate relationship with the first day of school. It's a beginning and an ending. I've blogged before about my internal struggle with changes...and it's another one of those hurdles in the year when I sometimes have to swallow the lump that forms in my throat when I think about our college kids moving back to dorm rooms & when I picture the kids who started our tween ministry now entering their first day of high school...how in the world did that happen?

Over this past summer, we've watched this special crew grow. What a gift it is in student ministry to have these special weeks with them. I am trying so hard not to take these moments with these tremendous young people for granted. It's a pretty amazing blessing to witness these young people falling in love with Jesus and allowing His love to transform their lives.

These summer weeks allow us to witness the intense friendships they are forming with one another. It also allows us to stand back and watch the ways they are peeling the layers of their hearts back towards the plan God has for them and His calling for them...right now!

So, a piece of me struggles to say goodbye to the days where school sports and midterms don't stand in the way of last minute lunches or longer summer hang out nights after vacation bible school. It's hard to let go of the weeks we venture off on mission trips and our students are cell phone free allowing them to connect with each other in special ways. It's hard to say goodbye to our college crew no matter if their entering their freshman year or junior year. We love having them home.

At the same time, I love to dream of what all God has in store for these sweet students in the weeks to come. I can't wait to see how He will use them as rays of sunshine to others in their schools. I am excited about the students we have yet to meet---and the way God will nudge us to reach others. I know there's a lot of growing and molding yet to come and a lot of sweet memories still ahead.

As summer slips a way a little sooner this year (thanks balanced calendar!), I'll try to let the hate aspect of the first day of school slip away and grab onto the joy in this next piece of the journey.

Happy First Day of School, Phao Crew! Ya'll are so loved!

Expectations.

Somewhere along the way I have grown into someone who holds high expectations...for everything.

If you tell me in December, you're renting a lake house in Michigan for the last week of July/first week of August, I immediately expect and anticipate perfect sunshine beach weather for the entire 6 days of vacation.

If you allow me to unleash my inner party/hostess love through a baby or bridal shower, I instantly expect myself to produce tables of picture perfect treats & handmade decorations that exceed anything Martha Stewart could come up with.

If I put my mind and effort into training for a race, I expect myself not just to finish but to finish well. To not be last. To look like a rock star at the finish line.

When I pour into others, when I plan & prepare, when hard work is mixed with time and sweat and tears...I expect a lot. All. the. time.

So, when it's cold and rainy at the lake every day except one...when, I go to pick up the gluten free expensive cupcakes I ordered weeks ago for the picture perfect shower I'm throwing and they have multi colored sprinkles that don't match my lavender party theme...when the race I've trained months for with early morning runs, runs in the rain, puncturing a cornea in the training process ends at a halt on mile five due to a pinched nerve that's turned my toes numb...I completely melt down.

My expectations are shattered. I revert to my inner "debbie-downer" (sorry to all the debbie's who have to put up with this term). All that I've hoped for...all I've dreamed and expected and waited on is suddenly swallowed away by my disappointment.

Again and again over this past year, I've been wrestling with that word: expectation. I've been journaling about it. I've been praying that God would soften my heart to the many expectations I've held on so tightly to for so long. I've prayed and I've prayed. I've wrestled and wrestled.

"God knows my heart, He knit me this way," is the justification I've held on too and told myself again and again. I'm thankful that God does soften me. That He teaches me to little by little to begin to let go.

I have been spending a lot of time in the Gospel of Matthew this summer. In part because we based a lot of our mission trip teachings from Jesus' teachings in the Gospels, but also because God has continually drawn me back to it over these past few months. These are the words that have really been brought a fresh to my heart, Matthew 16: 24, "Then Jesus told his disciples, "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me."

It's time for me to pick up this load of expectations I put way too much weight and attention on all the time and put my eyes back on the prize of following Jesus.

Are expectations and hopes a bad thing? No way. For me, it's the melt downs. It's the disappointments when I fall short, when things don't work out...when the beach days don't happen. This is what has gotten in the way of me following Jesus with freedom and with joy. I'm humbled by my Heavenly Father, who allows me to keep working on all of this...who doesn't let go of me when I do melt down--but who ultimately wants more for me. Wants me to trust Him and follow Him and seek Him with all of me...because He has so much more in store than my own heart and brain could dream up or expect on my own.

I'm sure I'll melt down sooner than I hope...but I'm thankful that He wants to stretch me and mold me beyond those melt downs of missed expectations and that I can expect all things in Him.

Three.

On August 1, 2010, I walked into Castleton United Methodist Church for my first Sunday morning. My first official day on staff as Director of Student Ministries. It is a morning etched into the memory of my head and my heart. I had no idea what to expect. I had no idea what was in store but at the same time had complete peace that this is where I was suppose to be.

Three years later, I am humbled at all God has taught me. I am in awe of His provision and His timing. My heart has been stretched and grown in ways I never knew possible--but in every way possible because of the power of Jesus.

There are 4,000 pictures in my iPhone from these past three years of ministry. Over the last couple of days I've been flipping through them. Each student. Each family. Each adventure. Each challenge. Each joy...represented over the past three years through these pictures reminds me of God's faithfulness and His desire to unify us through the greatness of His love and grace. I never knew I could fall so in love with a group of people. What an honor it is to know each and every student  that God has brought into our path. I cannot even begin to express how thankful I am for the team of adults and families that support this student ministry. I am so thankful for all the sweet and loving friends God has brought into my life. I  have been showered with blessings over these past three years.
       As I have prayed over what God has in store for us next, my prayer seems to remain very similar to the words I whispered to myself on the long drive from Mississippi to Indiana three years ago. May we continue to seek His will in every decision. I pray that this student ministry would remain Christ centered...always. That we would constantly desire to grow and change to look more like Him and less like the world around us & that we would bind together to reach others through His love at work through us. I'm thankful for the leadership and pastoral support we have to guide as as we look ahead.  I'm so excited to see what God has for us in the days and months and years to come.

"For I know the plans I have for you, "Declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."  Jeremiah 29:11

Al & Steph

As Father's Day approaches this weekend, I've been thinking a lot about my Dad and why I'm thankful for him...here's a little shout out to my loved, Big Al! I'm thankful for these sweet life lessons he has etched into me.

 Free throws win basketball games.

 Every swing of the golf club that I have ever taken I hear my Dad's voice saying, "Head down...low & slow."

My Dad is a man of example. I've watched his actions in many ways--from sitting down every Sunday morning to write his tithe to his church, to honoring every commitment he makes from taking the Boy Scouts camping, to coaching elementary school kids basketball, to attending meeting after meeting at church.

I love everything about my Dad's voice & laugh. From hearing his reading of the Night Before Christmas to us every year on December 24, to the sound of him telling a story to hearing him sing a hymn at church.

He is stubborn & I am my father's daughter.

My Dad's willingness to be a leader whether through his job or in our church has also had a lasting impact on me.

From Hillsdale to Ocean Springs to Indianapolis, my Dad always finds a way to make a trip where it's just me & him. Those father/daughter days are some of my very favorite.

Something I can always count on hearing from him with every visit, "How's your car running?" And deep down I'm thankful he asks...every time.

One of the first basketball teams my Dad ever coached, we were in a bonus foul free throw situation and of all the girls on the team to shoot the extra free throws my Dad picked me. That moment has stayed with me ever since, I'll never forget the sparkle in the eye and the overwhelming love I felt that even though he was always a fair coach...in that moment my Dad picked me. I've often thought what an amazing example that was of how my earthly Father was reminding me that my Heavenly Father has chosen me, again and again. And...I made those extra free throws.

Happy Fathers Day, Dad! I love you!!

Joy in Teamwork.

Thursday May 2, is "Thank a Youth Worker Day" which gives me the opportunity to write a blog post I've been wanting to write for quite sometime but have continually struggled to find the words. I'll take a stab at it...

Over 2.5 years ago, I began as the Director of Student Ministries at Castleton United Methodist Church. I was excited at the doors God had opened to bring me back to Indiana and for the opportunity to continue to serve in full time student ministry. My years in full time ministry prior to my start at CUMC had been spent in Michigan and Mississippi. They were years marked with many adventures and joys  and although I had dozens of amazing volunteers & friends by my side for those years for the most part I weaved my way through ministry on my own.
                                                                                 
                                                                                   When I was hired at Castleton, the search team mentioned to me that there would be an assistant student ministries director that would help me with programming. This was a little intimidating for me to wrap my head around. I didn't know what to think about working alongside someone else in the office to tackle the day to day ministry challenges and preparations. I wasn't opposed to it--it was just all uncharted. So, in my weeks before arriving at Castleton in the summer of 2010, all I knew to do was to pray. Pray for whoever it was that would join me and the students God had awaiting for me in Indiana. As I prayed God always filled me with peace...giving me that reminder that He knew what He was doing.

Fast forward to spring 2013...2.5 years of serving alongside Joe & Courtney. In these 32 months, God has taught me more about selflessness, loyalty and His love than I ever thought possible simply through His provision of allowing me to partner with the Garrison's in full time ministry.

 Joe is not my assistant ministries director--he's the other part of a ministry team that I cannot imagine serving without. The Garrison's have become two of the best friends who have blessed my life here in Indianapolis. When their precious daughter, Carley was born this past October, I think my heart about exploded the night she arrived out of utter joy for my ministry teammates and the honor it was to witness God's provision and goodness being showered over them through the blessing of Carley Grace.

One of the greatest joys to me found in this team is having partners who are willing to sacrifice comfort, time & resources in order to point teenagers towards Jesus Christ. I'm truly humbled by their example. What a blessing it is to have Joe and Court in my life and the life of our church family as we are able to celebrate in all the ways we are witnessing God at work & continue to experience His answers to prayer. I'm blessed to have teammates for the hard days and the exhausting days but also teammates who make me laugh and understand that God made me in such a way that I cry...sometimes a lot. :)

God's plan and timing never ceases to amaze me. When I reflect on the past 32 months...I remain in awe of Him and His will for this ministry team...better than I could have ever imagined on my own!

So, I'm a few hours early in posting this but in honor of, Thank a Youth Worker Day, I just want to give a big shout out to Joe, Court & Carley! I love ya'll so much. I'm thankful for the example our students have in your family and for all you do to pour out into each of us.
                                                                               

Higher & Deeper.

I am not music savvy at all. I love good music but usually it's introduced to me by someone who is music savvy. I tend to find something I love and then listen to it over and over until the next recommendation comes my way.

I very rarely listen to the radio because I'm usually sucked into whatever mix I have on my ipod or listening to a podcast or the CD in my car's CD player but for whatever reason about 6 months ago I turned the radio on during a longer drive and heard a song by the band, All Sons & Daughters. I loved it.

I've listened to them on and off since then but when I realized they'd be leading a portion of worship at the Simply Youth Ministry Conference that I attended back in the beginning of March I downloaded an album and started listening more in preparation for seeing them live--and what a treat that was. They were one of my very favorite parts of the conference.

All that to say, if you're reading this--you should check them out. I rarely do plugs like this but their music has been such a ministry to my life and heart.

Their song, Called Me Higher is the song of my heart right now. These lyrics are so powerful, I wanted to share them this morning. I'm also sharing a video about how this song came about & then the song itself.

Happy Tuesday!

Called Me Higher

I could just sit

I could just sit and wait for all your goodness

Hope to feel your presence

And I could just stay

I could just stay right where I am and hope to feel you

Hope to feel something again

And I could hold on

I could hold on to who I am and never let You change me from the inside

And I could be safe

I could be safe here in Your arms and never leave home

Never let these walls down

But you have called me higher

You have called me deeper

And I will go where you will lead me Lord

You have called me higher

You have called me deeper

And I will go where you lead me Lord

Where you lead me

Where you lead me Lord

And I will be Yours

I will be Yours for all my life

So let Your mercy light the path before me

Comfort.

I like being comfortable. I like that word in all areas of my life. I love nothing more than the perfect temperature outside to wear my favorite running shorts and a hooded sweatshirt. I love air conditioning in the summer and the heat my furnace provides in the winter. After a long run, nothing feels greater than a long shower. I love sleeping in a comfortable bed.

I love that I don’t have to think twice about stopping at the Super Target by my house if I’m out of something because I know I’m minutes away from a gallon of milk to a bottle of shampoo, that one store pretty much supplies everything I need.

I love the comfort of having all of the people I love nearby. Having friends or family over for dinner followed by a good game night fills my heart with joy. I love the convenience of only having to drive a couple of hours to see my immediate family. Something I took for granted my whole life until I moved 15 hours away and realized how uncomfortable I was without my family and best friends closer to me.

I love a beautifully set dinner table & large houses filled with picture perfect furniture. I like to daydream about potential vacations spent on a beach where I could lay out and read all day. I get excited when my new Vera Bradley catalogue comes in the mail or when I buy a new pair of shoes. I dream about raising children surrounded by people who know them and will pour into them their whole lives…about marrying a husband who will provide for me as a spiritual leader but also financially provide for us.

There’s nothing about comfort on every single level and piece of my life that doesn’t appeal to me. I’m onboard the comfort train.

The more I spend time hanging out with Jesus the more I’m realizing that I put my comfort before the ways He’s nudging me. The more I spent time in His Word—the less I see where comfort really brings real joy.

I’ve worried in writing this that I may offend maybe all 3 of you who read this blog in my saying that. I’m not saying every one is called to live in Africa. I’m not saying that every one is called to sell everything they own and give it to the church. But what has been pressing on my heart so much lately is that we use those extreme callings as excuses to sometimes put our own comfort and desires in front of a life that looks less like us and more like Jesus.

Sometimes the dreams of having more and being comfortable put God in a box. I’ve found myself there often… "Okay, Lord, I’ll follow you….but as long as it keeps me in a 20 mile radius of the people I love the most.” or “Okay, Lord, I surrender it all to you but that includes keeping my vacation home and my dream home, right?”

These are the words I keep coming back to, in Matthew 16:24-26, “Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul?”

Denying self. That’s so hard. I feel like I’m in a constant state of attempting to deny myself to follow Jesus. It’s so easy to grip so tightly to the dreams of my heart.

But then I read about Paul. This is a guy—that when he took up his cross and followed Jesus…went for it. Went all out.  I love his words in Colossians Chapter 3 “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.  Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.  For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.”

 This is so much more fulfilling to me than any Pottery Barn picture perfect house could be. To think that I am now hidden within Christ—that He covers me in every way. Wow. It kind of takes my breath away when I stop and think about it…when I pray to allow my mind not to just be wrapped around that but to be refined in the truth that by setting my mind and heart on Jesus, my comfort will be found in HIM. He will provide ALWAYS even in the most uncomfortable situations when I rest in Him.

I all too often find myself stuck in that box. I allow comfort to trump my Savior who is holding me. I get caught up in wanting to have all the things my friends have instead of living in the freedom that I have been given the greatest gift…the greatest sacrifice.

I’m praying hard against wanting to remain comfortable. Sounds kind of crazy, I know. The words of a song roll around and around in this prayer…

Refiner's fire

My heart's one desire

Is to be holy

Set apart for You, Lord

I choose to be holy

Set apart for You, my Master

Ready to do Your will

Praying that this blog post would be less about writing these words and putting them out there—and more about living them.