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