Stillness. Wholeness.

After a whole week of spring break, I come back to have to leave half way through the day because of a stinking ear infection. I learned just how frustrating and painful those are. I hated that I had to leave work and then skip my after school job, knowing what it does to leave someone hanging, but there are just certain points where you are out of options, and you have to just stop. I feel like perhaps God uses sickness to force me into stillness because it is so hard to savor, especially for anyone, if you're like me who derives way too much of their worth from what can be accomplished in a single day. But the truth is, though I could have read and watched a ton of TV today, I really savored the moment that I finally found the perfect niche of all four pillows, the pain killers started to kick in, the room was dark, and the only thing I could hear is the soft breeze gently knocking those ridiculous vertical blinds in my bedroom. And for a moment, I am still, for a moment, I choose to trust that being a child of God is realized in moments like these, where I can offer absolutely nothing, but am still loved.

My roommate and I are close to our 3rd anniversary in our apartment we live in now. And as I sit on the porch, and that same breeze from this afternoon kisses me again, I remember our first night here and how she and I watched the sunset off the balcony and laughed as I helped clarify that we did not in fact have an ocean view, which she had claimed when she was trying to sell me on the place. Funny to think I never thought it would be the same apartment that she would show me pictures of wedding dresses she's been eyeing and that I would tell her what I thought. SO many moments in those three years that have defined us and shaped us and brought us to this moment now. She has taught me about authentic community and how I am created to live in it. There are no regrets, and yet tonight all of that is embraced between two beautiful perfect sunset nights on a balcony we intended to spend way much more time on. I'm here now. That's all that counts.

Hearing Heart

Right now John Mayer is singing the acoustic version of Free Falling....kinda makes me melt. That has absolutely nothing to do with my thoughts to blog about tonight, but nevertheless very important.

I feel kinda foolish right now. I feel I am not at all what I should be. That is such a negative, vague, and sweeping statement, but it seems true. These feelings mostly have to do with my career right now. It is a strange thing to go to the length of believing that you have a certain vocation or calling on your life and then to not actually be permitted to flourish in it, or at least in the way I had hoped. It’s a very strange thing when you have all the training and passion in the world, but not have a place to invest or channel it the way I had dreamed. It's been two years now of subbing, of being in and out of classrooms and tons of kids lives, sometimes there for a day, sometimes several weeks, and at times even months, but always temporary. And suddenly now, after being able to rest in the fact that I would get multiple calls a day, daily sub jobs are becoming so hard to come by. Last night I went to bed so discouraged with no job that I knew of, adding up all the days that I have not been able to take jobs, and texted Matt, Lauren, Abie, Lynn, and Melissa to pray, and that I was feeling anxious and then woke early to accept a job in....8th grade science. I drove to school and prepared to be devoured. I hardly take middle school jobs, but when I do, many of them I have left depleted and frustrated.

And so running late, I scurried into the office and then a student..named Mercy...no accident it seemed, helped me find my classroom. And the day...seamless. We just talked about inertia and forces and then they took notes, we played a silly get to know you game, and then they were gone. Really awesome kids. But something in me felt like I had been at war…all this a fight to have faith that something really would come through.

But Lynn, with confidence sends me a text saying "God knows what you need. He will provide…” I know Lynn. I know that….why don’t I believe it?

“Before they call, I will answer, and while they are yet speaking I will hear.”

“It is not of course that prayer changes God or awakens in him purposes of love and compassion which he has not already felt. No, it changes us, and therein lies it’s glory and purpose. It helps us to utter dependence on God and gives him the opportunity to confirm our trust in Him and experience his grace in a way which would be absolutely impossible otherwise. He has got everything planned in order to meet all our needs before ever we realize what they are. But in order to teach us this joy of dependence and trust, He waits for us to ask. And perhaps he allows us to miss a very great deal and suffer needless deprivations just because we say, “Prayer doesn’t change God and he knows what I need” No prayer doesn’t change God, but not to make our requests known in joyful trust does deprive Him of the joy of granting our requests, and it does deprive us of the joy of experiencing His loving, intimate interest in every detail of our lives. ” (Hearing Heart, Hannah Hurnard)

I know this…for heavens sake, I took a class on prayer in undergrad. But I don’t think it prompts my actions all that often because well, quite honestly in my prayer life, I’m exhausted. And the only reason I think this could be so is because I really have been using prayer to try to change God’s mind or convince him of something he might not otherwise know….which is all quite arrogant of me, among other things. But if I’m not persuading him to do something, then what is prayer actually “changing”? All I know is that I’m trying…trying to live in that place that screams that if God doesn’t show up, then well, ya. You would think I would be someone who has tasted and seen enough that the Lord is good…that I would believe his love is actually indeed for me too. Why is it is so difficult to get my mind around the idea that God is lovingly and intimately interested in every detail of my life?

I need you...God who sees me....I need you in this vulnerable, passionate, broken place. Engage me.

January 13

It was hard to wake today
I wanted it, to hold the day
But I was to weak to clench it
So I lay there and spoke to sunlight
She encouraged me
Wading through days of mornings far too rushed
I drive far too recklessly,
Chances are I always will
And with a new friend I play with laughter and melodies
hOPE.
My hands tremble
Will anyone see?
They could never know the battle that raged in my body.
I did not back down, I will not surrender
You will know me with the heart of a warrior.
Silent though I stay, its not for lack of words,
Just the awareness of this moment.

all

All I want to know today Lord is that you are big enough
for the mess I've made inside myself.
All I want to know is that yes, there are even words for this heart here.
All I want to know is that if what was meant to be learned is still yet to be learned, that your grace would be my classroom.
All I want to know is that I'm not too much for you.
That's all I want.

Be More Quiet Now....

I just needed to be silenced with this today:

Ecclesiastes 5
Have Respect for God
1 Be careful what you say when you go to God's house. Go there to listen. Don't be like foolish people when you offer your sacrifice. They do what is wrong and don't even know it.

2 Don't be too quick to speak.
Don't be in a hurry to say anything to God.
He is in heaven. You are on earth.
So use only a few words when you speak.
3 Dreams come to people when they worry a lot.
When foolish people talk, they use too many words.

I'm Barb's daughter.

It is pretty common for kids to be more naturally drawn to one parent or the other. I feel like I'm lucky enough to have grown to need to be both a daddy's girl and a my momma's girl at the same time. But this is why I'm my momma's girl.

I got to spend a lot of important moments with my mom, just mom and me time growing up. Summer days and the hours just after school belonged to us. I loved doing even the silly mundane things with her like grocery store shopping simply because we were together...that and because if I went I always got to pick out my own treats for my lunches and snacks. "I think you need that," she would often say even though we both knew I could certainly do without razzleberry Squeeze Its.

My mom does a lot of things well, but one thing I love about her is that she does a good job making sure everyone has their favorite things. Favorite cookie. Favorite blanket. Favorite T.V. show. Favorite beer. Favorite smell....just because she knows that a life full of favorite things make people's cups full, and when their cup is full, people are inclined to be more generous....and being generous is fun.

And if by making sure someone's favorite kind of cookie is on the shelf, you have inspired someone to be more generous, than that's just sheer brillance.

Love you momma. Here's to you.

Los Ultimos

The following comes straight from the ol journal on my last full day in Costa Rica. We spent our last days in Nicoya in Guanacaste a much more rural area in CR. We spent four amazing days soaking up life there and getting to know Rosy's family. This was just one day.

Last day in Costa Rica baby-down to the real last one...and it’s weird how quickly life here has become normal....yet I still so miss everyONE-not necessarily everyTHING, back home. I am learning that so much of life here is about the process-of cracking panfuls of roasted cashews-the process of using a two dozen limes to make lemonade-the process of waiting an hour for the next bus, the process of cracking open 100+ clams, each with less than an ounce of meat within, the process of making coffee through a sieve, the process of cooking over a wood stove, the porcess of waiting to head home, but being asked to stay fully present even still.

Yesterday Rosie was able to reunite with 3 of her brothers that she hadn’t seen in years-so many that two of them had never even seen Meli, who is now 21 and has a son. Th first brother actually drove to pick us up and take us to each place we were headed. We picked up his wife and met the second brother at his construction job. Rosy was so precious-she fell apart at the first sight of him. He bought us all drinks and we stopped to talk for awhile....where do you even start after this much time? I can’t even imagine that scenario being a possibility, but it was just totally different for each one of them growing up.

Then we headed further down the road to Bonavacio’s (another brother) who has his own shrimp farm. He and his family have a very humble house planted on a couple acres of land with a huge lake. We greeted everyone and then started the long trek around the lake to see the other side. Bonavacio caught some shrimp for us so we could see them and they were huge! We took a boat ride in a paddle boat and walked back. Then out of nowhere, just when were thinking about how long it might be until we ate again, mama love (Bono’s wife) brings out huge beautiful plates of food of beans, rice, shrimp, noodles, and salad. I’ve been almost amazed at how much I’ve been able to eat here, or at least how I’ve been able to clean my plate and then grab more-fish, meat, chicken, whatever it is-it’s gone in seconds. And I haven’t been sick of beans and rice. In fact, my heart dropped a bit last night when I was filling my plate and I though there were no black beans for that place on my plate.

While we ate, Bonovacio’s family decided they wanted to send us home with a gift...of a live chicken. The youngest son through a net over the chicken, mama love tied him up and there was dinner to go. Lauren and I looked at Rosie with eyes full of a cross between utter fear and sadness...(Confession....Lauren felt bad for the chicken...I was more concerned about the ride home)....so Rosie convinced them to let the chicken go in the end.

So I ate, and out of surrendering to the fact that as gringos, we never know what the hell is going on-if we are going to be there for two hours or ten minutes, I laid down on the cement porch, “muerta de cansada”, and fell asleep.

Eventually we headed out again, and in complete silence bearing the heat and the lack of space in the back seat. Rosie tried to hide her tears behind her sunglasses. Nevertheless, they flowed until she fell asleep.

When we got home, we waited around for cold showers, and Rosy brought us ice cream and snuck whole sleeves of cookies in our purses. We played Spit in the rain before dinner. We ate an amazing fish dinner and then Lauren and I laid in our beds and laughed and talked with Lulie (another roommate) and at our entire package of cookies. Later Miguel, Rosy’s 19 year old nephew who has his own band asked me to translate one of their songs into English and then we played around trying to record it. Now Jerry (Miguels’s BFF) has his work cut out for him trying to learn how to rap in Engligh. It was a really cool connection piece to one, be able to help by translating lyrics and then to be able to sing it with them too. Before Jerry took off, all of us just sat and talked on the front porch. We tried to teach the boys some English...at least enough to let them know how to call eachother names with, and then there was the exchange of some very special stupid human tricks, like being able to move your scalp or ears without moving any other part of your face or all the stupid sounds you can make with just your mouth and hand.

Every night I’ve slept so perfectly here even though the mattress was terrible. And so I wake again to be able to say-tomorrow-tomorrow I get to see my Josh and my Kristin.

And as always, when I woke, Rosy tells me that there’s coffee ready and then just when my cup is almost empty, it’s like she knows, and she calls,
“Dee-Ann, hay mas cafe. Voy a traerlo a ti.”
“No es necesario, ya me voy”
But before I can move, she grabs my cup again, singing some ridiculous song in English like “Mamamia” or “I Need a Hero!”. It’s like she has come to totally understand God’s heart when he said, “I didn’t come to be served, but to serve.” I want to be more like her, anxious for nothing but the chance to serve.

And as I sit here, Rosy’s sister rides to work an hour early just to see what time she was suppose to be there because she can’t remember what time it starts today. My gosh, I told Rosie, that would never happen in the states. But then the neighbor, Arturo, (who is 19 and I want to shrink and put in my pocket-sorry Josh) came by to say good-bye and swap emails. Then soon enough Jerry rode up on his bike before we left to give us the cd of the two tracks of songs their band had recorded. Then at noon, he showed up at the bus station for one last goodbye to us all.

I have felt so absolutely cherished here and it certainly didn’t have to be this way, but it has been, and I love you Costa Rica, for all of it.