revive

God, revive my heart.

Thank You for reaching down and saving my heart at such a young age. Thank You for pulling my soul from darkness and welcoming me into Your arms before I even knew how to make a sandwich.

Don’t let me forget all that You are and all that You’ve done.

God, my heart can become so complacent. I don’t remember what it’s like living in darkness. I don’t really know what people who are living in darkness today are feeling or experiencing. I was so young when You saved me, I can’t remember what that’s like. I’ve forgotten how undeserving I am of all of You and worthy You are of everything I am.

God, thank You for your sovereignty and your ever-presence in my life. May I never again take it for granted.

I’ve lived so long knowing You will be there no matter what, I’ve forgotten how close You truly are.

I’ve forgotten the beauty of the gift of Your undeserved grace.

The mighty power of Your mercy.

The saving love of Your forgiveness.

The splendor, majesty, and pure glory of Your holiness.

God, You are great. Your holiness should bring me to my knees in awe. But I’ve forgotten. I’ve forgotten who You are, and I’ve let myself forget. I’ve let these “big church words” that describe You alone become so normal in my life that I don’t even know what they mean anymore.

God, how many others are here? How many others have spent so long hearing of You and growing up in Your church that we’ve forgotten the power and awe we experienced when You saved our souls?

A friend told me the other day, “When we truly see and experience the total splendor and majesty and holiness of God, in all that He is, is there really any other response we can have other than to say yes to all He asks of us in total obedience?”

God, may I always say yes in obedience. Give me a greater understanding of Your holiness, to see even more my need for your forgiveness and grace and mercy that You so loving poured out on the cross, to understand even deeper why You call us to the nations.

God, John 15 tells us that those who are not found in You will be plucked from the vineyard and thrown into the fire. People all across the world are dying without You

God, I don’t know what they see or feel when they wake up in the morning, but I know they’re living in darkness. I don’t know what darkness shows them as they go about their day, but they aren’t living in Your hope and Your light.

How can they know Your holiness and Your glory if no one tells them? How can anyone tell them if no one is going? How can we go if we are so complacent we don’t even see a need to take the gospel, because what we have is “good enough for now”?

God, revive my heart. Revive the hearts of young adults like me. Of young adults who have spent so long, so many days growing up in church, hearing the same words used over and over but never really gaining and understanding of what these words mean for our lives and our souls. Of young adults like me who don’t remember what it’s like to be living in darkness and who have trouble understanding the urgency of the gospel because of this.

God, give us an urgency. Give us eyes to see the desperate need for Your gospel to go to the nations. Call Your people. Plant a deep passion in our hearts, one we can’t even understand, to take Your gospel across the world to those who’ve never even heard Your name.

God, You tell us in Revelation 7:9 that, one day, there will be a multitude worshipping at Your throne, from every tribe and tongue and nation. What about the nations, the peoples who’ve never heard Your name? How can they worship in Your glory at Your throne if no one ever goes and tells them about Your gospel?

God, call us. Revive us. Awaken us to Your global purpose, to the urgency and the deep need that we’ve forgotten about. Take us to the nations. Show us Your glory in ways so remarkable that all we can do to respond is say yes in obedience and follow You wherever You lead. Give us a passion for the unreached, not a complacency thinking someone else will go. It’s past time for us to say yes and go. Raise up Your harvesters, awaken us from our complacency and forgetfulness, and bring revival to Your earth through Your people.

Peru || Month One

It’s officially been (just over) one month since I left good old Missouri. This past month started with a whole lot more tears than it ended with, literally only by the goodness of God. But I’ve also laughed a lot, adventured into the city a lot, and attempted to stay up-to-date with Astros baseball (sorry, Britain).

I’ve been reminded constantly of how good my God is. On the hard days, He’s there. On the great days, He’s there. He grants sunshine after a week only seeing clouds (side note: the other night, after an afternoon of CLEAR BLUE SKY (!!!), I laid in bed and watched the clouds roll in across the dark sky, and it was one of the coolest things I’ve seen in a while). He’s given me sweet reminders of His calling over the last few weeks and of simply who He is, when all I want to do is get on a plane back home and hug my momma.

I’ve started reading through the Experiencing God study with a couple other women who are here. Just the other day, the lesson was on God’s calling of Moses through the burning bush. God appears to Moses and begins to tell Moses His plan to rescue the Israelites – and use Moses for His work in the process. But Moses basically freaks out (same, dude) and starts listing to God all the reasons he’s unqualified for the task at hand – and even goes so far as to ask God to send someone else. At first, I was like, “Okay, dude. Come on. This is so COOL, why would you turn this down?” But then I thought about it, and God gave me a little thump on the head. I’ve spent so much of my time here choosing to run from what God is doing and begging Him to use someone else, without even realizing that was what I was doing – listen, I almost didn’t even get on the plane out of the US and just flew home, and here I am, trying to judge Moses in this moment. But God is still so good, and even though He did give me a good thump on the head to wake me up and grab my attention, He is also so gentle and kind still. See, here’s the thing the Holy Spirit had to have a chit chat with me about – God is going to choose to work around me, and He’s going to accomplish His work. He wants me to join Him, but He’ll choose to work through someone else if I tell Him no – that’s what He did with Moses and Aaron. The Holy Spirit simply asked me, “Are you going to choose to allow me to work through you while you follow into the next step God has for you and why He’s placed you here? Or are you going to choose to miss out on the blessing of walking with Me on this journey because you’re too scared you’re inadequate, when I’m all you need?” Then I just let out a reallllllly long breath, because that hit me SO HARD.

Even when I find myself stuck in the cycle of comparison, God is still enough. When I think I’m not making friends “quick enough” (whatever that means, as if I could actually put a timeline on building relationships – goodness, Alli), God reminds me that He is at work, even in the little moments and the small conversations. When I tell myself I’m not outgoing enough or extroverted enough to strike up a conversation with someone (in Spanish, yikes), God reminds me that it is solely through His strength – and that He wants to provide that strength and is not only with me, but is residing inside me (okay how cool!!!) through the Holy Spirit. He’s had to remind me time and again that, in all reality, I’ve only been living this daily routine and daily life for about a week and a half. The beginning of our time here included training and a trip to the mountains (so so so beautiful!!). It’s only been in the last week and a half since I started going to language classes and exploring the city a little more. Expecting myself to have built a good friendship with multiple people in about just a week and a half is waaaaay too high of an expectation for myself, and it’s not one God’s put on me, either. He doesn’t love me any less because I haven’t made a lifelong friendship in a week and a half, but He is asking that, as I search to make friends, I actually act like a friend. There’s that old cliché, “It takes a friend to make a friend.” If I’m not trusting Him to give me courage and strength to engage others here in conversation, even in Spanish – and then actually acting on that and actually talking to people, then I’m not going to make a friend. That being said, I’m praying for one good friend, one good connection while I’m here.

On a different note, here’s a little update of the happenings since I’ve been here!

We spent a week in the mountains, and it was so, so beautiful. I got to experience the more indigenous culture and get a little glimpse into what life is like for so many people here who live far outside of the city. There are also so many people here in the city who came from small communities throughout the country, and to learn a little about their lives before they moved here was a really cool experience.

I’ve gained a lot of confidence and trust in the Lord as I’ve ventured out into the city a little. In the midst of feeling inadequate and questioning if living here is really something I could do, God reminds me that He put me here for a reason, and in Him alone will I find my strength. When I use my time walking to pray, I actually really enjoy walking around the city. It’s a good time for me to just talk with God about the day, about what’s going on, about what’s on my heart, and to ask for wisdom in this journey with Him. And, I’m getting so many steps in! Unrelated, yes, but the walking is really good for my heart and mind, especially since we don’t see the sun very often here. I’m starting to learn my way around and sort of get my bearings in the city, and I’m kind of getting a map in my head of the area around where I live (if you know me, you know that basically the only way I ever get around anywhere is picturing the map in my head, so this is a very exciting big deal for me)!

I’m not sure I have a ton else to say. God is good, my friends. I’m reminded of that daily. He’s stretching me and teaching me the importance and power and sweetness of prayer each and every day. With a face mask on and a t-shirt wrapped around my still-wet hair, I’m signing off tonight because I still haven’t finished my homework for language class (hey, at least life here is starting to feel a little more comfortable and normal). I’ll talk to y’all again in a month. Thank you for praying and for choosing to keep up with this journey God has me on. It means the world!

Adios, Springfield || Peru Part 1

I find something really beautiful about airports. Maybe I’m crazy. They stress my mother out.

Normally, I’m so easily overstimulated in situations like this. Heck, I got overstimulated on my way-too-warm plane just before I landed here in Charlotte.

But inside this airport? It’s almost like each airport is its own little world. The hustle and bustle of everyone running around to catch a flight or find something semi-interesting to do before their flights arrive is just so intriguing. Sometimes, I just like to sit back and people watch, maybe imagine the stories of the people around me and how they ended up also flying from Charlotte to Richmond.

Maybe the guy and girl in their mid-twenties sitting across from me sharing a sandwich are on a layover on the way home from a honeymoon. Maybe the two women sitting across the way are two teachers who are headed back home before the school year starts. The two friends sitting next to me? I like to think they’re two college girls headed back to school for the fall who found out they were on the same flight and are reconnecting after a summer apart.

My flight here wasn’t all that great. Okay, it was fine. But it was also the first time in my life I’ve been motion sick (it was just a small yikes). Then, just to add some adventure, after waiting on the plane for fifteen minutes before we could taxi to the gate, the engine had to be turned off, and the plane had to be towed to the gate – with all of us still on board.

But I’m at my next gate, and there’s only one flight that stands between me and orientation now. One short, hour long (maybe) flight. Once I land in Richmond, I’ll meet my Hands On missions partner and one of the IMB staff members who has been communicating with us the last few months and helping us work out all the crazy details of these next four months.

I really can’t think of a ton else to fill you in on right now. The Lord is giving sweet grace in calming my flight anxieties and allowing me to simply relax while in the air. Pray those continue when I fly again next weekend to Peru. Pray for my Hands On partner and myself as we meet and begin this journey together, that God would grant us a sweet friendship and fellowship as we serve Him these next four months.

Also, my last flight was weirdly warm, and the cankles are real. Not that you needed to know that, but now you do. Here’s hoping my three other flights are much cooler (because I dressed for cold planes, not hot ones haha).

Fight and Freedom

“But I am like an olive tree flourishing in the house of God;

I trust in God’s unfailing love for ever and ever.

For what You have done I will always praise You

in the presence of Your faithful people. 

And I will hope in Your name, for Your name is good.”

Psalm 52: 8 & 9

I came across this verse tonight and knew…it was high time I started sharing the beautifully insane ways God has been healing and redeeming throughout the last year.

About two weeks ago, I sat down with a friend and opened up.  It was the most real and raw I have been in a long time, and it was, honestly, freeing.  A couple nights ago, I talked with another friend about the beauty of being honest with others and sharing our stories because, no matter what we may tell ourselves, we are not alone.  When we are honest real about our struggles, we find others who share our struggles and see the beauty of the redemption God is working in our lives.  And it’s one of the hardest things I’ve done, but God has been placing a strong need to share on my heart.  And here we are.

Last fall, I started having some issues with anxiety due to something ever-so-slightly off with my thyroid.  But because of this, my mind found a new track it decided it could start taking, and anxiety became something new I’d never struggled with before but now had almost daily.  There would be good days when everything felt normal, and there would be days when I would lie on the floor for hours because I didn’t have the energy or desire to do anything that day, for fear of what might happen if I said the wrong thing, if I may potentially be a bother to others, if anything at all went wrong during the day.

I don’t remember when it all started, but one day, I started noticing thoughts in my head that I was not thinking.  Multiple times a day, thoughts of self-harm and, sometimes, even suicide would pop into my head.  I was scared.  I could not figure out where these thoughts were coming from; I had no desire to act on these thoughts, but still they were there.  And I didn’t know why.  I couldn’t figure out what was going inside my own head.  I started visiting a counselor to begin learning faith-based coping mechanisms, and during that time, I learned these are called intrusive thoughts.  In a sense (and in a short version because I did not actually pay attention in my online Intro to Psychology class oops), these thoughts came into my head one day without me actually thinking them.  Because they brought such fear and anxiety, they carried great emotional weight in my mind, meaning that any time my mind went blank, these came back to the forefront of my mine.  So, singing Veggie Tales songs in my head became a routine every single time these thoughts popped into my head.

Since last fall, God has begun to show me the crazy ways that He provides when we don’t even know we’re in need.  Last fall, He was building and fostering friendships that I had no idea would become some of my greatest supporters and encouragements when the anxiety started to become something I didn’t feel I could handle.  Now, in those moments when I know I need my mind to be filled and distracted from itself, there are specific people who care for me and spend time with me, who will not leave me alone when my mind cannot be alone.

That has been an amazingly huge blessing the last couple of months.  Recently, these thoughts have turned very socially-based, and they’ve skewed my perception of how others view me.  Satan has begun to use my anxiety and these intrusive thoughts to place lies in my head that I am unwanted and unloved.  To tell me that, even when enjoying a night with friends, I could leave the room and no one would even notice.  To tell me that if I spent all my time alone and never saw my friends again, they wouldn’t notice or care.

Then one night, about three or four weeks ago, I was worshiping with some friends when I was reminded of the deep, deep love of God.  The bridge of Cory Asbury's “Reckless Love” really rattled me:

There’s no shadow You won’t light up

Mountain You won’t climb up

Coming after me.

There’s no wall You won’t kick down

Lie You won’t tear down

Coming after me.

In this exact moment, God reminded me that He would do anything – including enduring the worst pain and death – to wrap me in His love and redeem my hurting mind.  But on that last line, it was as if God was whispering to me personally, “I want to break down these lies.”

It took identifying them as lies to start.  Acknowledging that they were lies, rather than truth about my social surroundings.  Then…holy cannoli.

I still get chills.

It wasn’t as if I heard the voice of God, but somehow, it was as if His exact words were echoing through my mind:  “Alli, repeat back to Me all the things I tell you that you are to Me and in Me and through Me.”

Holy crap, y’all.  That was a GAME CHANGER.

So guess who sat there in tears for the rest of the night?  But they were tears of joy, of redemption, of freedom.  Because all these thoughts and lies telling me that no one would care if I never saw them again?  The lies that told me no one cared or loved me enough to even want to spend time with me?  I had a way to combat them.

I was able to remind myself…

When Satan tries to tell me I’m suicidal even though I’ve identified my intrusive thoughts and understand they are not ideas I am thinking, God tells me I am more than a conqueror and that He created me for a specific purpose.

He reminds me of this summer and my internship, of the future He has for me, whatever that may be, of the future that He’s creating that would not be the same if He wasn’t able to use me in that future.

When Satan tells me I’m unwanted, God tells me I am beloved, prized, compassionate, and a friend.

When I feel forgotten by my friends, God calls me daughter, cherished, adored, masterpiece made by the Creator of the universe.  Forever His.

There are still good days and bad days.  There are still days when I call my friends and ask to sit at their homes simply so that my mind is not alone and idle.  There are still days when I lie on the floor, but I’m learning ways to remind myself of my worth and my value in Christ.  There are good days when anxiety doesn’t seem to be much of an issue at all, but there are also days when I feel like I’m at battle and that every moment is a fight against my own mind.

But then God reminds me that the battle is already won.  That in Him, there is eternal freedom.

And the freedom always wins the fight.  It isn’t easy, it isn’t perfect, and it isn’t pretty.  It doesn’t mean that every day is a good day.  But it does mean that the fight doesn’t get to win and that the freedom found in reminding myself who God says I am will always win.

fulfilled

My summer is wrapping up, and it doesn’t feel like that should be real.

I’m not ready to have to go to classes again or have that stupid homework responsibility, but yet I’m ready to be back at school, back to a routine and to knowing that I’m furthering my studies.  It feels weird to be moving out and leaving home (or what now feels like my parents’ home WEIRDDD), but I could not be more excited to move out at the same time and to start learning how apartment life and living on my own for good actually look.  Like, dude, now I have to buy my own food.  Yikes.

Anyways…this is all leading somewhere; I promise I’m not just ranting.

Okay, so, it’s been hard this summer, being at home.  I love my family, but I haven’t been at home for this long in two years, and it’s weird to go from living in the dorm (and Nicaragua) without them to now being home and with them all the time.  It’s been hard to mesh the two schedules and lives back into what they used to be, when really, we’ve all changed.  And it’s not a bad thing – it’s just how life goes.

This summer has been hard.  It’s been really hard to not be living on campus and doing life on and around campus.  It’s been extra hard not being near the people that I’ve met these last two years that have grown to be my family.  Sure, I get to visit one or two of them here and there, but it’s like my heart has been aching to be back where I’m surrounded by those people that I’ve been doing life with the past two years.  They’ve seen me at my best and at my worst, and they’ve seen me avoid growing up and encouraged me to keep going.  So it’s been hard to be away from them, from the people my mom has started calling “my tribe” because they’ve been such an influence on my life.  And I’ve got to be honest…I have not been happy about not being on campus this summer.

Paul talks in Philippians about being content in any situation.  And if Paul can be content in all that he went through, I can take off my pouty pants and stop complaining about not getting to live where I want for three months.  But contentment is so much more than just being okay with where I’m physically located and what’s going on around me.  It’s resting in Jesus, knowing and believing that He is in control and His plans are perfect, even if it may not be how I pictured my life going (news flash, Alli: your plans are poo compared to what God has planned for you).  It’s about trusting His plans even when they don’t match my timeline.

It’s not just that I haven’t been content living at home.  This summer, the impatience of being “just a college kid” has really started to set in.  I’m halfway done with school, but sometimes it feels like I have a lifetime left to go in these classes before I’ll actually be a teacher.  I have these big dreams, but I’m impatient and want to see them happen right now, not years in the future.  But at the same time, I’m asked a lot what or where I’m planning to teach after graduation, since I am now halfway done with school, and I can’t answer them.  Because I don’t actually know what I want to do after I graduate, despite having these big dreams and goals for my life.  I know that I love the Spanish language and Latin American culture, and I know that I love the language learning process and want to be a part of helping young children learn a new language one day.  But how that’s going to look, I have no idea.  And I would like to know, but I’m getting a big, fat “WAIT!” from God.  Which makes a whole lot of sense for this phase of life, but, once again, I am not the most patient.  Probably because I’ve spent a lot of the past two years defining myself in earthly ways – a Spanish major, a future teacher, a college student, a this/that/the other – when none of those things define me or will ever truly fulfill me.  And how will I be truly content and resting in Christ if I’m trying to fill myself and my heart with things other than Him?

So, basically, this started with me talking about how I love my family but I’m not all that happy being at home (sorry, fam – it’s because I’m not on campus, not because of you LOVE YOU), and it ended with me ranting about how I’m not patient enough to wait on God’s plans, but you get the point.  Here’s the thing: God’s been doing amazing, mind-blowing works in my heart the past few months and challenging me in ways I haven’t ever felt challenged before.  He’s let me place my trust in humans and look to friends for affirmation so that I would see how unfulfilling it was and how perfectly fulfilling He is.  He’s used stress and relaxation (or, if you’re me and can’t remember that word, “relaxament”), anger and kindness, hurt and joy, and so much more…all to show me that He is complete sustenance, power, peace, strength, joy, everything I could ever need.  And it’s still a fight.  It’s not like I remember this every minute, let alone every day.  But He’s all-forgiving and all-loving, and He doesn’t give up on me.  Because He Himself is love, grace, mercy, and so much more.

So it’s a fight, sure.  But it’s a fight worth fighting because my God is so much more than I could ever imagine, and He is all I need.

Welcome Home

Welcome back, Alli.

It feels a lot like a “Welcome home.”  While I miss Nicaragua and the relationships I built there like literally nothing else, the relationships I have here at home and on campus are the people God has for me right now.  They are the people who know me.  They take me as I am while also helping grow in my faith and constantly challenging me to grow closer to Christ.

First off, if you’re one of these people, thank you.  From my family to my roommate to all the newbies in our building, thank you for putting up with me the past week and a half.  I know I’ve been complaining about being cold, and I know I keep forgetting things and showing up late.  Thanks for letting me re-learn how school and being home works without pushing me to jump right back in to “normal” life.  That’s actually extremely appreciated.  You all have also been there through this whole journey.  You saw all the preparation and supported me and prayed me through leaving home for three months, all the homesickness, and all the joys I experienced while I was there.  You let me talk about my trip non-stop (even when I’m accidently hogging the conversation sometimes).  You guys care.  It’s such an uplifting feeling to know that there are people who have my back, who have been supporting me this entire journey and are still supporting me as I readjust to life here at home, who have been praying for me through it all.  You guys are actually the greatest.

So, I’ve officially been home for a week and a half.  In some ways, it feels like I’ve been home for two hours, and in some ways, it feels like I’ve been back for years.  Maybe it’s because, as soon as I got back, I moved back to campus.  I had almost no time to prepare myself to be thrown back in to life here before I actually was.  In some ways, that was really good for me, and in other ways, it really wasn’t.

Here’s what’s been going down.  I’m back in a routine, which is really helping me adjust to life here.  I didn’t have much time at all to think about all that went on in Nicaragua, which was probably good for me, because otherwise I would have been mentally stuck in Nicaragua more than I already am and wouldn’t have been able to dive back into life here at home.  But, on the other hand, I’ve had no time to process my trip.  I’ve had no time to look back on it all and really take in all that God did.

I haven’t cried.

I haven’t cried once since I’ve been back.  If you know me at all, you know that’s not a good sign.  I cry when I process.  No tears equates to no processing.  So, instead of processing my trip and actually letting myself miss the people I met and truly reflect on all that happened, I’ve just been bottling my emotions inside.  And that’s never good.

So, honestly, I’m writing this because yesterday, I started to hit my breaking point.  It’s coming – I know it is.  I don’t know when the actual tears will come, but I can feel them coming.  They’re not just building up anymore – they’re about to spew.

You hear it all the time.  “Reentry is very hard; be prepared.”  Except, I didn’t expect it to actually be this hard.  My heart hurts to be back at Taellor’s House with those sweet kids.  I almost always find myself replaying memories in my head from this summer (it’s super unhelpful during class).  I miss Nicaragua.  I miss it a lot.

But now, I’m back on campus and back in class.  And can I just say, after this summer, I am so freaking excited for these education classes.  I find myself nerding out in (almost) all of my classes this semester, and I really think it’s because I am so excited to see just where God takes my desire to teach.

Basically, I said all of this to ask for prayer.  Pray for peace as I start to process all that happened this summer.  Pray that I always remember to run to Jesus.  This time of processing isn’t going to be easy, but I need to reflect on all that happened and, honestly, allow myself to be sad and miss everything that happened and everyone that I met.

I cannot thank you all enough for all the prayers and support you’ve given me over these past few months, and I cannot wait to finally be able to share (and understand) all that God did this summer.

Weeks Six and Seven | HOME & PEACE

I don’t know if I’ll ever finish processing all that God is doing this summer.

The past two weeks have been almost like a whirlwind of emotions, but sort of in a good way.  There are a lot of things bottled up inside that I hadn’t started to deal with yet.  A lot of homesickness, really.

Apparently, being homesick can actually affect a person physically.  I did not feel well for about a week and a half because I was in such a rut of missing home, missing my family.  It’s just been these last few days that I’ve started feeling better, physically and emotionally.

I guess it’s time for a bit of real honesty: I let my homesickness take over.  That was all I focused on, all I thought about it.  There were a couple nights I found myself completely sobbing in my bed because I wanted to be home with my family so badly.  And that’s when I started to get physically sick.

But God’s love surpasses all of that; His peace transcends anything I could ever understand.  He holds my heart in His hands and dries all my tears.  He knows all that’s going on, and He understands it all.  God gets that I’ve been homesick, and He welcomes me back to His arms every time I choose to focus on that instead of Him.

He’s been pouring this truth into my life: I have an earthly family here on earth, and I have a building to live in both here and in the states.  But none of those things are really my home.  God is my home.

{ “God is our refuge and strength, and ever-present help in trouble.  Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.”  Psalm 46:1-3 }

Sometimes, the homesickness would feel like everything was crashing down.  I believed Satan’s lies that my hurt was all I could focus on, and I let it control me to the point that I became physically sick.  But there is hope.  There is always hope!  God will never leave.  He is my refuge – He wants to be my refuge.  He wants me to run to His arms and make my home in Him.  Because He is home.

The saying goes, “Home is where the heart is.”  I’ve also heard, “Home is where your family is.”  To me, home is security.  It’s trusting your surroundings and being comfortable being yourself.  It’s not necessarily being comfortable with your surroundings, but it’s where I can run both for celebrations and sadness.  For a long, long time, I attributed that to my family, and there’s nothing wrong with that.  My earthly home is with my family, wherever that may be.  But my true home is in Jesus’s arms.  With Him, I can be who I really am.  He doesn’t promise comfort or total safety, but He does promise to be my refuge and never to leave my side.  He will only take me where He can, and that may be far away from my earthly home, but He will never stop being my true home.

Phil Wickham’s Heaven Song says, “My soul is getting restless for the place where I belong.”  I think that’s where I’ve been at for the past few weeks.  I hadn’t been doing very well about spending time with Jesus and really drawing in to Him.  So my heart started to ache to be at my earthly home with my family.  But really, my soul was yearning, yearning, to spend time with Jesus, to spend time learning more about Him and drawing near to Him.

These past couple of weeks have been a huge time of learning for me.  God has been doing so freaking much in my heart, and I don’t think I’ve even started processing a lot of it much deeper than the surface.  My prayer right now is that He teaches me what it looks like for me to truly draw near to Him.  Right now, He’s teaching me a lot about having peace with the uncertainty of the future.

For a long, long time, I felt specifically called to overseas missions.  Now, He’s starting to change that – He’s broadening my view of what missions really is.  I’m not saying He’s not calling me overseas, but He’s teaching me that mission fields are everywhere.  My own backyard, my own dorm hallway is a mission field.  The people around me in the states and at school need Jesus just as much as the people here.  So maybe He is still calling me overseas, and maybe He’s calling me to my own backyard.  Either way, I’ve been called to missions – we all have.  I’m just not so sure anymore what exactly that will look like for my life, and I’m actually okay with that.  God is teaching me to be okay with the unknown, and it’s actually a really freeing feeling.  I don’t have to worry about planning tomorrow; He already has it planned, and He will reveal it all in His timing.

Home.  Peace in the unknown.  God is doing a ton, y’all.  A TON.  I wish I could tell you all about it, but I honestly don’t know if I understand it all yet.  For now, I can’t wait to see what the next five weeks hold here and then what next semester and year hold back at school.  

God is good, guys!  He’s doing amazing things here!