The Pledge of Allegiance

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty, and justice for all.

Like most schools, most days at my school begin with standing, facing the flag, and reciting the pledge. I look around at the students who are mumbling words, fidgeting, many doing anything but saying the pledge. It bothers me, and some of that is because it mirrors what's happening in my heart each morning.

I don't remember being bothered by the pledge as a student, or even while teaching in Lakeville after graduating. It was a daily ritual to remind us of our allegiance to our country. And I guess I was okay with that.

In leading the pledge most mornings for my fifth graders, I've struggled with whether or not I really do pledge my allegiance to this country. I understand that the United States is a wonderful place to live and full of incredible opportunities. After living in a different country for seven years I returned to the US and find myself not completely enthralled with the US. Mornings find me going through the motions. Mouthing words that don't ring true in my heart or mind. I find that my heart longs for something better. I'd gladly pledge my allegiance to that place, to our heavenly kingdom and King.

Be Here

In a world that is so filled with things and ideas and people and places and thoughts and options and noises, it really is a challenge to be still. This morning my heart was challenged through this video to make that choice.

Friendship

I've heard it said that marriage is a great example of Christ's love for the church. I've been thinking about friendship a lot recently and wondering about how friendships lived out in the context of intentional community can do the same. I wonder how the community of believers would look differently if we sought out ways to love those around us in tangible/visible ways.

Friends mean a lot to me and I've done a lot of different things to let my friends know I care: traveling together, sending cards, flying across an ocean to surprise a friend for her wedding, sending valentines, babysitting, rearranging my schedule to make time with them a priority, celebrating life accomplishments together, standing streetside to cheer during a marathon....

I've had friends who've cared for me in incredible ways as well: flowers on my birthday, flying across an ocean to visit me and see my life in Romania, letters/cards of encouragement, speaking truth, holding me as I cry, cheering me on during difficult seasons...

I'm incredibly thankful for the friends God's placed in my life. In this season of transition, I find myself wondering who those friends might be in this new location. Who is God inviting me to see and love? Who might God bring along to do the same for me? I'm thankful for the gift of community and challenged to consider what God would have me do.

Furry Motors

Driving back from trying to test drive a car today, the large sign caught my eye. I did a double take and realized the sign actually said Fury Motors, but I'll forever think of it as Furry Motors. I wonder how many people have done the same thing...thought they knew what they saw and perhaps didn't take the time to do a second glance. I wonder how often that happens in life. We might think we know what's happening around us...in the life of a friend, why a student is late, why someone is pulled over on the freeway...if we stopped to take a second glance or ask a question, we might find we really had no idea.

Praying Big

For two months I've been car shopping...off and on... This is the first time I've ever made this decision on my own. The only cars I've owned prior to this were ones I purchased from my parents. So, I find myself in a unique position at 31 as I search for a car. At the beginning of this process, my expectations were high - I'd find a car I'd love to drive and it would last for years and years. Not knowing my preferences, I started looking for 4 door cars. The playing field narrowed as I started figuring out a bit more about what I like/dislike in cars. I'm just not a fan of the Dodge Stratus or VW Jetta. I feel like I finally have a few makes/models that I would buy and now it's just waiting to find the 'right' car. I spent Friday searching online only to learn some of the cars were already sold. I drove to a dealer Mon after school and learned the car I wanted to look at sold just that morning. It left me feeling discouraged and defeated last night. I thought this was going to be an exciting process and instead it's turning into the opposite. I'm ready to buy the first car I see and be done with this process...probably not the best place to be.

I realized last night at small group that like many things in life I didn't choose to 'bother' God with the details of this car search. I haven't asked about the amount of money I'm thinking about spending or asked that he would provide for this need of mine. So, this morning I'm starting with a new attitude...praying that God would provide a car for me in the next week. I'm asking for a red Pontiac G6 with 3.5 L V6 engine with low miles under $10,000. That's my hope. That's what it means to pray big in this area of my life right now. And it's scary to put it out there...

I was thinking back to my time in Romania and looking for an apartment 6 years ago. I had a list of criteria--things I wanted in my 'dream apartment' and God graciously provided an apartment that was all that I hoped and more. It was a haven and a place of peace for 4 years. Do I really believe that God cares about the seemingly 'unspiritual' or 'insignificant' details of my life or am I content to try and figure everything out on my own?

Remember

September 11 found me sitting in church watching a video about the events of ten years ago. I can remember back to the staff lounge at Otter Lake Elementary School. I was in the first weeks of my student teaching. An individual came in to interrupt our whole staff meeting; the tv was switched on and our worlds shifted. The video that was shown in church focused on what we as a country learned during the days and months that followed that tragedy. One phrase that caught my attention: "We learned to...remember our losses"

It got me thinking...is it always best to remember those things we've lost. I feel sometimes that the list of things I've lost could stretch for pages and pages. Is it really good to hold on and remember. I know there's value in feeling loss and not ignoring the pain that often accompanies it. On the other hand, I believe it's God's grace that allows us to let go and continue to press ahead. If I were to need to constantly live with the memory of each loss, I think the weight of them might crush me.

Perhaps as individuals we struggle at different points along the spectrum. Some of us hate to face the loss we've faced and fight to erase it from memory. Others live so deeply in the loss that other dimensions of life dim and all is consumed in that memory. I think either end is extreme. Like many pieces of life, I imagine the balance in the middle is found only with grace of God and the ability to live balanced takes practice.

As I think about the losses in my own life on both sides of the ocean, I pray that God would bring healing and that my life would be transformed because of those experiences...that instead of getting stuck in those events, God would enable me to continue to walk ahead in faith.

Community

Continuing to stay intentional about creating community is sometimes difficult when living in the same town as other people. Challenges grow when friendships begin to span the state, country, and even the world. During my time in college and Romania, I was blessed to meet many new people, to form friendships, and to invest in each other's lives. In the midst of those seasons and as they concluded, people scattered. At first it was friends who were a class ahead in college. In Romania, it was roommates, colleagues, and dear friends that left the locale where we met. In each situation, I too found myself in the place of the one leaving instead of the one staying behind. With people moving across the state or to the other side of the globe, it seems there must be better ways than facebook to stay connected.

This month, I've had the opportunity to connect with friends in my city, state, country, and world. In each relationship we've worked to find unique ways to communicate. With friends in the same city I went for a walk this afternoon and dropped to give a hug to another friend. Skype has become a great tool to use when connecting with friends in Pennsylvania and Budapest (at the same time). I love being able to chat while I'm driving home late at night with friends in Los Angeles.

Intentionality. Choices. Relationships don't maintain themselves. They take work. As I consider what I hope community might look like in my life now that I live in St. Paul, MN, I'm trying to find new ways of connecting with people, investing in them, and inviting them into my life. It's scary to look at beginning again, but I know it's what God is calling and leading me to do.

What does your community look like? How are you stepping out in faith in this area?

The Game of Life

As I sat down this morning to spend some time journaling, I began to think about the differences between living in Romania and Minnesota. The list is long, but something new stood out to me today. Because of the church I attend and the school where I work, I'm surrounded by people (generally) my age and younger. There certainly isn't anything wrong with this, but it's so very different from my time in Romania. I regularly found myself the youngest person in the room with the least amount of experience. It's not unusual now to be one of the older people in a group.

Friends are getting engaged. More than a handful of friends are pregnant. Houses are bought and sold. Jobs are exchanged.

Isn't that how the game of life proceeds. You begin by choosing an occupation and salary. Rounding the corner you are stopped to get married. Proceed next to the point of buying a house. The number of kids is hugely variable...it all depends on your spins. Along the way, the goal is to accrue the most money and life tiles, avoiding expenses and capitalizing on opportunities to gain more.

Many live their lives in a similar way, buying into the world's plan for our lives. The expectation is marriage and kids and house and retirement. Singles are questioned about marriage. Newlyweds are asked about when they'll start having kids. We're always looking ahead at what's next.

I wonder then about what the game of life would look like if God designed it. I figure the board would be ever changing. I doubt you'd be able to look ahead and know the outcome of each fork in the road before selecting one to travel. As each person came to taking their turn, the board might morph to reflect the unique plan God has for that individual. Perhaps the majority of the board would begin blank, only filling in as one moved along the path. The goal wouldn't be to end with the most money, retiring in ease. Maybe the focus would be on making the most impact, on taking risks and trusting.

I wonder what it would look like if we changed the way we look at life. What would God want our perspective to be? How can we help each other to choose to play God's plan for life instead of the world's game of life?

Forgetting

Last month I traveled to Germany to attend the ReachGlobal Europe Conference. It was wonderful to be with dear friends one last time, to be able to say goodbyes to colleagues spread across the continent. I loved the opportunity to stay up late talking, to enjoy adventures in a new town, to not worry about cooking my own meals. God did a mighty work in my heart during that time as well. There were new pieces of affirmation about the decision to move back to MN. Friends helped confront some lies that had been getting far too much attention. Waking up to the beauty of the German countryside was wonderfully refreshing. There was healing for unmet expectations. Hope began to spring anew in my heart. Dreams began to take shape.

Tonight I found myself struggling. My time with ReachGlobal has officially come to an end. Though I spent last school year in MN, I'm facing more changes and adjustments as the realities of this new stage of life set in. This isn't a small step...some days it feels like a leap off a cliff. There are many pieces that are shifting.

As I drove home, I realized that I've allowed the past two weeks to overshadow the previous one. I'd already let go of and forgotten what God did in Germany. Somehow the present felt more relevant and real than the past...or even the future.

What is the best way to remember? How can I hold on to truths that God has so clearly shown me?

I think of how often God reminded Israel to remember and how the same holds true for me. I need to find ways to remember. Tonight it meant turning off the radio during my car ride home to spend time remembering. I thought back to what happened in Germany and about how I lost sight so quickly with the events of a new school year beginning. Perhaps next time it won't take me two weeks to realize I've forgotten. Perhaps there's some way to create a stone of remembrance.

It's worth it to remember.

Minot...Why not?

Two weekends ago, I drove from Minneapolis, MN to Minot, ND. It wasn't a personal choice to make the trip. I wasn't excited about the extended hours alone in a car. So, why did I go? The car I had been able to use for this past year needed to be returned to that organization. A few days after learning of the need to return the car in person, I learned of a possible ride back to Minneapolis (alleviating the need to take the train).

I had heard bits and pieces about flooding in the area, but wasn't really sure what that meant. Amtrak wasn't running at the time. I arrived in Minot and stopped to get a few snacks for the car ride back to Minneapolis. Almost everyone in line around me was buying bottled water. I saw individuals from Salvation Army, Red Cross, and Mennonite Disaster Relief. Suddenly, the impact of what flooding must mean was a bit more real. I spent the night at a church which was also hosting a work weekend 'retreat'. The following morning I got in a car with three strangers and we set out toward Minneapolis.

Along the way I learned about how they'd spent the past 7 days in Minot. If I'm remembering correctly, 25% of homes flooded. It's been decades since flooding of this sort has happened in Minot so most were unprepared. I saw pictures of homes that were filled with standing water for days. Piles of trash lined the streets.

I'd never really known what flooding meant for a home. I learned during the car trip that everything is stripped from the home. Sheetrock is removed. Belongings are discarded. Everything that has been touched by flood water is impacted. Often basements need to be pumped/sucked out. Once everything has been removed, the remaning boards are treated to kill any mold that might be lingering. Houses are then left two dry out. They expect that the earliest families will be able to even think about rebuilding is next spring. They'll spend this winter sharing homes with other families or living in FEMA trailers (some of which I passed during my drive to Minot). With MN winters, some people are concerned that the trailers will be warm enough during the winter months.

All this lead me to wonder why I'd not heard about Minot. I didn't even know there had been flooding. I wasn't aware that many families were dealing with the loss of their homes with little hope of being about to be home for Christmas...or maybe even Easter. I didn't know.

Now I do and I'm struggling with what to do. I'm not sure that I can go and tear down sheetrock. I don't think I can invite a family to move in with me. My heart was touched and I'm trying to figure out how to reach out with compassion. I'd love to fill a bus with friends, showing up in Minot ready to work hard for a week, or even a weekend.

Why not?

Beautiful Things

by Gungor

All this pain..
I wonder if I'll ever find my way.
I wonder if my life could really change, at all.
All this earth..
Could all that is lost ever be found?
Could a garden come up from this ground, at all?

You make beautiful things,
You make beautiful things out of dust.
You make beautiful things,
You make beautiful things out of us.

All around,
Hope is springin up from this old ground.
Out of chaos, life is being found in You.

You make me new,
You are making me new.
You make me new,
You are making me new.

As I was flipping through facebook posts last night I came across another song by this artist and was intrigued enough to listen to some more songs on youtube. As I look ahead to the future, I'm thankful for the assurance that God is at work in and through my life. I may not be able to see what he's doing now or in the future, but I can rest on the promise that He is involved in my life, working for good, transforming me, making beautiful things. What an amazing truth to which to cling.

Water Carnival Parade

Last weekend I spent time with my sister and her family in Hutchinson, MN. After church on Sunday, we joined the masses gathering for the water carnival parade held that afternoon. As we drove through town looking for a spot to park and sit along the parade route, I was amazed to see chairs and blankets already on the curb. Residents of Hutchinson place their chairs and blankets out up to 48 hours before the parade to secure the best locations. I was stunned! I could hardly believe that people would trust the entire town to not move or take their chairs and that securing a prime location was that important.

As I drove back into the Twin Cities, my thoughts drifted to the day that Jesus entered Jerusalem. I wondered how people knew that he was coming. There certainly weren’t newspaper advertisements or TV commercials announcing his arrival. How many people were aware? How did news get passed along?

And then I wondered what would happen today if Jesus were to come to town. Would people place chairs and blankets along his expected route in hopes of being near him as he walked? Would there be any news coverage of the event? How many people would skeptically remain comfortably tucked inside their air conditioned homes instead of braving the humidity and mosquitoes? Where would I be? I further wondered, what am I doing to welcome Christ in my life today? How am I inviting him to be on the throne? There are certainly changes that I could make in my life! What about you?

Hunting

Ages ago , I attended gun safety training with my sister and my dad. We learned about carrying a gun, loading it, and shooting. The goal was to master doing each of these without endangering ourselves or anyone near us. The following November, I courageously  joined family members for deer hunting, waking up before dawn to traipse through the woods, settle into a stand, and wait. And wait. At some point during the weekend, a deer happened to walk within sight. I raised my gun, aimed….and finally lowered it once again. I couldn’t find it in myself to pull the trigger. Instead, the deer walked off, perhaps without recognizing how its life had just been spared. That was the first and last time I went hunting.

I’m hunting again these days. Instead of hoping to find some game, I’m watching for a job. It feels so similar. There’s preparation…drafting and revising a resume, crafting a perfect cover letter, and then waiting…waiting for jobs to be posted….waiting to hear if they want to interview me…waiting to hear what they thought…waiting. And I can’t say I’m thrilled with the waiting. I’d like to have this settled now instead of wondering about how it will turn out all through the summer.

Some days it feels like I’m stabbing in the dark, applying for any job that seems like it might remotely fit me. Other days, I find myself considering postings and school websites, trying to see if I would be a good fit for that particular school. It’s a hard place to be…wanting a job…and yet not wanting to jump at a job just because it could work. So, the waiting continues. Applications are sent off into cyber space and the USPS in hopes that I will somehow get connected with just the right school that I can be excited about…and that they are excited about having me join their staff as well. Waiting…

And in the waiting I find it hard not to wrap my identity and worth up in the search…just a little. I wonder if I’m good enough…if anyone will want me…if I’ll make it in the bigger pond of the US…I wonder. As a school makes first contact, my hopes are raised…then dashed when they don’t follow up in the timing they mentioned. I call and hear nothing….weeks later they ask for a second interview. I return the call and days later receive an email stating all positions have been filled. It’s a roller coaster ride that I’d like to get off.

And in the space between paragraphs, I feel my heavenly Father inviting me off the ride, inviting me to choose to sit quietly on the park bench watching the ride in the distance, listening to truth, choosing to trust, and being wrapped in his arms. I want that so badly…to rest…and so, that’s my choice for tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll likely need to choose again…and again on Saturday…and Sunday… Even when I see where this road ends, I’ll still need to choose. Every day.

Cowbells

This past weekend, I traveled with ReachGlobal colleagues to the mountains for our annual spiritual life retreat. Tucked away in the mountains, our hotel, Casa Elim, was the perfect place for some refreshment. The weather was sunny, providing many opportunities for conversations in the sun, a stroll to town, and large group games. Sitting outside there felt so different from spending time outside in Bucharest where the sounds of horns, buses, and people constantly fill the air.

As I enjoyed time during a small group discussion, I found myself thinking about the cowbell I continued to hear in the distance. My first thought was that the bell was quite annoying, invading and interrupting my thoughts. As I continued to hear its clanging, a new thought crossed my mind. What was the purpose of the bell? I supposed it was attached in order that it might be easier to locate the cow. As I let myself consider this idea, it felt like God gently spoke to my heart: "I know where you are. You don't have to wear a bell. I see you and know where you are. Don't ever forget I know where you are." It seemed that this idea just kept replaying in my mind.

What an amazing thought! The creator and Lord of the universe knows where I am. Not only that, He has numbered the hairs on my head and knows my very thoughts. Whoa!

It leaves me wondering today...how am I different because I know He knows? Do I live differently because I can firmly rest on that truth? Do I rest in His presence and draw on His strength? Do I desire to pray without ceasing? How am I responding to this incredible gift? He knows. He knows it all!

Casa Dulce Casa

Home Sweet Home
Riding the 34 tram home from the store this evening I saw a store with that name. It caused me to stop and think about home. Right now, there are so many different places to call home. Romania, Prague, Hutchinson, Minneapolis, Prior Lake, and Crystal all feel like home.

I'm back in my apartment in Bucharest and it's starting to feel like home again. Though in the back of my mind, I'm really aware that it's only temporary. In six weeks I'll be moving out of my apartment. Along with that awaeness comes the reminder that I don't know where I'll be living in two months. I don't know where I'll be working. I don't know what kind of car I'll be driving. I don't know...

That feels really scary. I want to have a home that feels welcoming and refreshing. I dream of the comfort of not living in the midst of unkowns. For many years, I got pretty good at ignoring what was happening within my heart. I didn't pay attention to the desires deep in my heart. It would be easy for me to try and convince myself that the desire for a home isn't one God would want me to have, but I don't think that's truth. I believe that this desire is an echo of the desire for an eternal home, for the home of a perfect environment like Eden. I believe parts of it will be fulfilled here on earth and other parts will need to wait until eternity. The desire is there and I'm choosing to recognize it and wrestle with it.

New Seasons

Spring is on the way! There's hope that winter won't last forever, even in Minnesota. This week flowers started blooming just outside my window even while the snow was still melting on the lawn. The creek that flows down the hill from my house is running quickly and is high on the banks. Spring is probably one of the most anticipated seasons, especially in locations where the ground freezes and snow piles higher during winter months.

As I was thinking about changing seasons this evening, I was reminded of the many seasons in our lives. I'm in the middle of a changing of seasons in my life. For the past eight years I've been a missionary serving in Bucharest, Romania. I've loved the learning and growing that's happened in my life. In just a few short months, that season of my life will conclude and the next season will begin. I'm still a little unsure about what this next season will look like which makes it hard to let go of the previous season. Though I'm certain this is the way God's leading, it still isn't chalenge-free.

Spring is so anticipated and we wait expectantly for warmer days, budding trees, and the appearance of green grass. We have grown comfortable anticipating the spring around us and yet I wonder if we're ever anticipating the changing of seasons in our lives. I know I'd much rather stay in the comfortable seasons of life than expectantly hoping that God will change things up and start something new. It's not encouraging to think that everything could change. I feel God challenging me to start to think differently, to be expecting change and to look for it with anticipation instead of dread. It's my hope that we would all be in places of willingness for God to move in our lives, and excited about new things beginning no matter what our current season.

Restless

by Audrey Assad

You dwell in the songs that we are singing

Rising to the Heavens, rising to Your heart, Your heart

Our praises filling up the spaces

In between and frailty and everything You are

You are the keeper of my heart

And I'm restless, I'm restless

'Til I rest in You, 'til I rest in You

I'm restless, I'm restless

'Til I rest in You, 'til I rest in You

Oh God, I wanna rest in You

Oh, speak now for my soul is listening

Say that You have saved me, whisper in the dark
'Cause I know You're more than my salvation
Without You I am hopeless, tell me who You are
You are the keeper of my heart

You are the keeper of my heart

And I'm restless, I'm restless

'Til I rest in You, 'til I rest in You

I'm restless, I'm restless

'Til I rest in You, 'til I rest in You

I wanna rest in You

Still my heart hold me close

Let me hear a still small voice

Let it grow, let it rise
Into a shout, into a cry

And I'm restless, I'm restless

'Til I rest in You, let me rest in You

I'm restless, so restless
'Til I rest in You, 'til I rest in You
Oh God, I will rest in You

I've had a couple of nights of restless sleep recently and it's not something I enjoy. As I was sorting papers this evening, I came across a reminder of this song and appreciated the reminder that I need to find rest in God. Though my circumstances might not be rest-giving, I can choose to turn to God for rest. It kind of goes against the grain...letting go and surrendering, trusting that if I rest God is more than able to work on my behalf and that I can cease striving. What an incredible promise.

Detours

Sometimes there are bright orange signs along the way warning of an upcoming detour, preparing you for the change that is coming. Sometimes it seems the road closed sign appears from out of nowhere with arrows pointing off in the distance, leading to a detour. Those unexpected detours can be a most frustrating event. They can leave you confused and irritated, wondering why you hadn't seen the detour coming and wondering if you'll ever make it to where you wanted to go.

In life, these detours often come in the way of unexpected phone calls, emails sent in the middle of the night, or a surprising announcement. It’s just enough to catch you off guard, to perhaps cause you to stumble for a second before finding your bearings. Sometimes it’s a short detour, a matter of minutes before order seems to be restored. At other times the detour is a longer path, perhaps never returning to the original course.

One such detour happened in my life yesterday. I woke expecting a day of connecting with people and enjoying the company of friends. Before I could set out to enjoy those joyous events, an email came that sent my mind on a detour, imagining possibilities and trying to figure out different scenarios. I found myself caught in a huge shift in plans, feeling excited and overwhelmed all at the same time. The shock wore off a bit today as plans proceeded a bit more normally and I was able to steer back onto my planned path for today—working on grad school assignments. The detour isn’t far from my mind and it leaves me wondering whether I missed the signs. Were there signs along the way that God was trying to use to prepare me for this change? Was I too focused on my destination to take notice of flashing lights and neon orange signs? Perhaps I wasn’t meant to have advance notice. Perhaps it was a way for God to draw my eyes to Him, to move toward trusting Him instead of depending on my own strength. Perhaps…

Invisible made Visible

It's been awhile since some things were visible. Driving down Brookridge Avenue yesterday, I saw for the first time in months the white chain link fence in front of a neighbor's house that adds to its charm.  Christmas decorations, once just barely protruding above the piles of snow are now fully visible (and a little out of place for St. Patrick's Day). My house number is once again visible from the road (instead of being hidden behind snow shoveled from the roof into piles higher than my head). The babbling brook down the hill from my house is flowing quickly downhill, making up for lost time frozen in place. Grass is peeking up from beneath the blanket of white. Birds are reappearing from the winter hideaways. You can actually see what people are wearing becuase the heavy winter coats of the past few months are being left at home. The signs of spring are everywhere and it brings with it hope of a new season.

The life of faith is often one of trusting in the invisible. Most of us haven't seen God and it sometimes seems when looking at the hurt and pain in the world around us that God isn't in control or even aware of what's happening in our lives. In the next moment, the invisible is made visible. Suddenly, there's a ray of sunshine, a word of hope, a confirmation of God's love and acceptance. It's still a walk of faith, but I'm thankful that God doesn't leave us on the journey alone; he's a constant companion, pointing out the beauty in the midst of suffering, the glory in the midst of pain. It's not an easy journey, but from my perspective, it's so worth it!

Picture taken March 17 driving through my neighborhood :)

The Road Less Traveled

There is a lot of comfort in staying between the lane lines, of knowing exactly where the road is headed, and of being able to follow along with GPS directions.  When snow covers the road, removing even glimpses of those guiding dashed white lines, I find myself longing for the comfort of the known, the ease of seeing instead of guessing and hoping I stay on my part of the road and the other drivers stick to theirs. Main highways offer security--marked exits, warning about upcoming roads, and information about distances to nearing cities.  Less traveled gravel roads don't come with any guarantees.  Without a map, there's no way to know what roads might intersect until you happen upon them.  No way of knowing what towns lie ahead.  I'm not likely to turn off a main highway in favor of a gravel road heading off into the distance. 


I can remember back a number of years to an opporunity to share with my home church about living in Romania and I quoted Robert Frost's famous poem:
     Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

     I took the one less traveled by,
     And that has made all the difference.
Certainly taking the road less traveled makes all the difference. It's often not well-paved or lit.  No one has bothered to paint lane lines.  There might be long stretches when you don't pass others.  And yet, in the journey of taking the road less traveled, we learn to walk by faith instead of by sight. We learn to trust that God knows where the road is leading and instead of needing to be in control we can surrender.  We begin to cherish the people God brings into our lives--those who walk beside us for long stretches and those whose lives just briefly intersect ours.  The road less traveled might be bumpy and dusty, leaving us weary and worn.  God faithfully provides rest stops along the way, bringing healing and restoration to our souls.  It's scary and there's part of me that longs for the ease of the road well-traveled...but I don't think there's anything that could convince me to turn back now.

Killing Mosquitos

When they first start to show up I have such a vengeance for destroying them.  I want to ensure they are nowhere near my body, have no chance to take anything of mine.  Slowly, they wear me down.  Instead of seeking to obliterate their lives I somehow get to the point of being ok living with their presence in my life.  Instead of turning on the light and hunting every last mosquito down, I pull the sheet over my head and resign myself to hearing the incessant buzz until I blissfully fall asleep.  Last night I sat outside and the mosquitos showed up.  I noticed them around my face and dealt a number deathly blows to those settling on my legs and arms. It was only once I stood up that I realized my flip-flop clad feet had been attacked. Some bright mosquitos had searched out the easiest place to attack and had survived without even my awareness of what was happening.

I've been reminded recently of the battle raging, of the enemy prowling around to attack.  It's easy to identify a lion roaring toward you and certainly a lion's attack won't go unnoticed. Mosquitos can sneak under the radar and attack--perhaps not a deadly blow but certainly a blow that takes energy away from what could be, that causes us to spend time itching and swatting instead of living. While a lion's attack might be a traumatic event, the mosquito comes quietly whispering lies and subtly backing up those lies with a series of events that don't seem all that bad initially.  The cumulative effect is devastation.  No doubt about it, the enemy is alive and well and is using any means available to attack us.  Last night I was intent on killing the mosquitos around me.  I pray for eyes and a heart that enable me to kill the whispers of the enemy as well, to stand and continue to protect against the roaring lion as well as the buzzing mosquitos.  I'm so thankful that God hasn't given me that job alone.  Not only is he with me in the battle, I have a wonderful community around me that is supporting me in it as well.

Finger Painting

Fresh pots of paint, clean fingers, visions of artistic grandeur...and so the process begins.  Strokes added with care, colors mixed and swirled, picture taking form...the process continues.  Finishing touches placed with care, pots closed, hands washed...completion.

Waking up this morning, that was the image on my mind...finger painting.  I've been wrestling with remembering.  The past seven years in Romania were incredible...on so many levels...growth, challenges, fears, relationships, learning, stretching...  If I think about my time in Romania as a painting... The yellows might be new friends brought into my life: Rhonda, Carmen, Ky, Jen...  The pinks are success stories with students: Brandon, Daniel, Grace...  The greens could be areas of growth: faith building trials, leadership.  Black are clouds of conflict and pain.  Oranges are slices of hope: new apartment, small group, visits from friends...

As I remember all the pieces somehow the picture starts gets skewed.  Instead of seeing the individual pieces of the painting, the intricate color choices, I walk away from my memories with a single color sense...darkness.  Picture the colors of paint all stirred together as often happens when little children sit down to paint.  Though yellows, greens, and blues have been chosen with care, when mixed together, it all looks brown.  Brown isn't generally selected as a favorite color.  It isn't often selected for pictures beyond tree trunks and houses.  It isn't cheerful and bright on a dreery winter day.

I don't want it to be all brown.  I don't want to look back and feel darkness.  I want to remember the brightness and light, the hope and growth.  It's taking some effort to sorth through the memories, a resolution to fight a battle in my mind.  I want Christ's perspective instead of my own so that as he leads I'll willingly follow, completely trusting what comes next, excited about the color choices to come and the picture to be painted.