[Insert profound word here.]

I could write forever about this, and perhaps later I will, but the reality and sincere truth is: I love meeting new people and catching up with old friends.

"We had the eyes of refugees."

I started reading a book today, or rather listening to it on CD..shh don't tell, about a woman who went through a heinous divorce, then a passionate love affair, to find herself followed by "goons" known as Depression and Loneliness while traveling around the world to do only what she had left or new how to do: to find peace.

At the beginning, she began her story describing her heartbreak and fear that her seemingly model marriage brought her, and how she battled every night for months to years at a time feeling alone and trapped. She describes her and her ex-husbands relationship as one that towards the end, cause for redemption from the other person. She says, "he wanted a settlement and all of our money, and I just wanted the door." She later explains that towards the end, all they wanted was the end and they "had the eyes of refugees."

I was reading, or rather listening, to this woman's tale and thought "Geez, thats painful and broken and I never want that." She said, "I wish for you, my delicate reader, that you never have to go through a divorce in New York" to which I could only reply, "Amen."

It seems, that for the first time in what feels like ever, I find myself outside of myself and my surroundings noticing that where I am when I'm in a certain unnamed place...I have the same heart of needing redemption. When I am here, I have the eyes of a refugee. I want out all of the time, and everything is beyond a stab in my back, but a punch straight to the gut. All day, in and out, punch, punch, punch, with the occasional slap in the face.

Most would say run. But having the heart of a believer, I know this is where I'm supposed to be. Which is ridiculous if you ask me, or really anyone. Whether you're suffering for righteousness sake or not, you're still suffering...and hard. I suppose I really only have myself to blame. I walk around dressed as a human punching bag attracting, and part of me feels even desiring, for those who need to take a punch to do it, because I feel I can handle it. There is, however, some truth to the fact that I can handle it. Again, being a believer, knowing the Lord, and understanding as much as I humanly can why this is my role most of my life, I find peace in this fact. But then I hear this: "You MUST be a really crappy person. This isn't the first time this has happened to you. After a certain amount of time, you're always here. No matter where you flee, no matter who you meet, after that amount of time they will see that you really are a terrible friend. The gig is up, stop pretending, because sooner or later they will see that you really do in fact suck big time. What do you think will happen when your husband reaches this point? He'll just leave you and remind you further of the fact that you aren't good enough and no matter what you do, you will never please anyone in the slightest bit."

punch to the gut.

After laying on the floor in pain from that ever-so-lovely string of statements, I stand up, brush myself off, and with my actions loudly proclaim, "do it again."

I wish I had a redeeming way to end this. But for now, I have the eyes of a refugee.

Lufthansa LH 444: Frankfurt to Atlanta.

Written on August 8, 2011 on the flight from Frankfurt to Atlanta:

-I wonder who you are. I bet you have a cool name like Gague or Collier. You probably listen to good music, and your tattoos seems so natural.

They're of headdresses in faded neutral colors - so something tells me I'd really like your heart.

What did you grab to sit with? Your iPod and a book. Your blue passport shows that you're American, but I didn't need to see that to know I don't think.

This is another one of those moments where paths cross for not even a second, then continue on in their own separate ways.

Who knows, maybe my kids with call you uncle [insert potential name for the cool-named-tatto-iPod-book-airplane-guy.]

What kills me is that this isn't anything like a "love at first sight" thing. Its more of a "we'd probably be really cool friends" thing. And not to be dramatic, but I'll probably never know a thing about you. SO, cool-haircut-natural tattoos-gauges-airplane-iPod-book guy, I wish you a good life and a growing soul.

I suppose my mind works a bit like a movie. Its amazing, really. But I get stuck in this "I'll never know you so I'll imagine you" world and I forget my life isn't as magical as I imagine it sometimes.

So, to remedy my 10-hour flight blues, I'll survive on no sleep and submerging myself in movies I haven't seen. Beautiful.

Atlanta, I can't wait to see you. I've missed you.-

Going through and reading my old journals from this summer make me feel more like myself. I'm not a huge fan of who I've been lately. Who I am hates who I've been I guess you could say. I want to be me, fully, vulnerably, wholly, and holy. Me. One thing I've learned, is that I am quite the dreamer. I want to be that. And I will be. I will be my dreams.

Are you ready? Because I am.

I love this quote: "My whole life I've believed I was made for something big. Now, I'm just waiting." But the truth is, I'm not waiting anymore.

Cliche? maybe, cheesy? perhaps. But I mean it, I'm not sitting on my ass anymore. I'm getting on my feet and I'm making it count.

Ma olen valmis.

I'm ready, I am.

Somewhere beautiful.

I had this thought today: I was never one of the popular or envied or pretty girls in high school. In every class, there is this set of girls, anywhere in between five and nine of them, and they really seem to have it all. The same girls who are dating the same guys they dated 3 years later. The same girls who you often go and try to see pictures of them on facebook hoping they've gained weight or in some way look worse than you do.

Its crazy, really.

Back to my thought though, I was never one of these girls. I fact, these girls silently made my high school experience ridiculously frustrating. Because I understand this mindset. Noticing that everyone thinks you have and are everything, and living in fear that people are going to find out that you really don't have it all together. And if or when they do find this out, you won't become human to them, you will become imperfect. You become discredited, and you no longer hold worth to them.

So, I kept thinking about this. I honestly have no clue where it came from, but the thought progressed into the realization that even thought I was never one of "those girls" I find myself stuck in this idea of not wanting people to see me weak or broken or like I don't have it all together.

I'm so worried about this, that I untag or delete any picture of myself on facebook that shows a sign of imperfection, or weight gained. I wear cardigans when its hundreds of degrees outside so that I won't be distracted by how much I hate my arms, and neither will anyone else. I listen to my iPod as loud as I can when I run because I hate hearing my own breathing, struggling to catch it. I don't like working out with people because I don't want them to see my physical weakness, and I rarely cry in front of people, because I don't want them to see me crying.

As much as I share my past and my heart, and I do...a lot...I don't really dive deep into my life now. I'll gladly share something I've been through and how I got through it, but I don't like to share the implications it has on my life now.

I feel that I've been through and felt a lot internally and sometimes I feel like because these things were so long ago, they aren't allowed to affect my spirit today...which is just not true.

They do.

I guess all of this to write or say that I'm a wreck, I'm a mess, and it amazes me that in the midst of that God still wants to use me.

Its about 1pm here in Tartu, Estonia and in about an hour or so, I will get in a taxi to the Tartu bus station to take a bus to Tallinn for the night and head back to Atlanta tomorrow morning.

Sitting here in the kitchen of the house I've been living in all summer, I'm trying to gather in my mind all that I've learned and all that I want to take back with me, and this is it: that I can be vulnerable and bold as hell in my relationships. That I wouldn't be afraid to share my past yes, but also my present, because its just as real. We can't hold onto the past, its the past, it doesn't exist anymore. We are where we are when we are there.

Think about it.

I am where I am when I'm there. And thats that. And that is my heart: to share my present and be in the presence of our God all of my days.

That is somewhere beautiful to me.

"Feed my sheep."

This past week or so was my first camp of the entire summer.

I've never been more attacked spiritually, and now physically in my life this far.

Most of the week I felt defeated. I felt weak and weary and like I should just give up because the camp was going up in flames because of me. It wasn't until after debriefing of the american teams did I realize my team members at the other camps battled the exact same thing: the idea that they are worth it, that our God wants to use them, and that they aren't a complete failure.

Each morning at camp we had a team meeting bright and early to prepare ourselves and have a moment to breathe, and one morning, Mart presented this scripture to us:

John 21: 15-19. Jesus and Peter. I love this story. In the literal translation of the word "love" when Jesus asks peter, "Do you love me?" three times, He is asking, "Peter, do you love me UNCONDITIONALLY?" and Peter replies, "I love you conditionally." Three times. To the son of God. I love you CONDITIONALLY. Jesus' immediate response? Feed my sheep.

No hesitation. No fear. No doubt. Feed my sheep.

In that moment, Peter pretty much sucks, doesn't he? He can't even lay down his love for the God of the universe. But what happens? Jesus feels compassion for him, and declares him worthy, and commands him to feed his sheep.

Goodness, if that isn't me I don't know what is. This whole week, moment after moment left me feeling weary and weak and worthless. There were moments where God's power, as it should, surpassed my fear but immediately I'd fall into listening to a lie about my worth all over again.

One night I had a headache that I thought was literally straight from hell. I had been praying to see a penny, to see a reminder of my worth somewhere, an I looked down and saw 50 krooni on the ground. That was pretty neat.

Then I went into the back room because I felt terrible still, and Mart asked to pray for me. He didn't pray for my headache, he prayed that I would know my worth.

Thank you, Jesus for that tangible example that you hear me, and you respond.

SO many things happened this week, so many people were placed in my life that I know I'll be tied to forever and that I will see again, and all of these things, connections, ties, answered prayers, moments of God's complete and utter power were all revealed to me when I had a moment to finally breathe after camp when we were staying at the church in Jogeva.

I loved that moment, it reminded me of my own little Blackbird Coffee in Estonia. I sat on the be where I stayed with my music, coffee, journal, and bible. It was perfect and so needed. I even took a picture of it.

Here was where I had a moment to document and really look back and see the ways that God moved. Past all the frustration, past all the fear, past all the deep feeling of failure, I got to see God's power. I was reminded of some people God blessed me with. Like this girl, Sara.

She's from LA. God linked our stories in an amazing way.

And this lovely woman, Jenna Black.

It amazes me the plans God has for two people who would have never though they would ever meet.

Our God is truly powerful.

I'm back in Tartu now, sick, but beginning to feel refreshed. Tired, but encouraged. Our God is a victorious warrior.

"Don't let the small mishaps eclipse the awesome power of God." - Bethany Deskins.

Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary.

Pure and holy, tried and true.

Amalie, Johanna, and I went to a Jaanipäev party in Jõgeva tonight! it was beautiful, just wanted to share some pictures!

stopped in the highway to take this.

This is Sulew. This was an accidental picture, and I love it.

This is Johanna, she is beautiful.

This is Estonia, it is beautiful.

These are my feet. This is the sidewalk by Innar's apartment where I'm staying. I stopped to take a picture :)

Everyone is different, everyone is the same. I love this. I thought about editing out the dead mosquito...but it was too authentic to Estonia, I couldn't.

Tonight was so good. Lord, I love the way you speak to me in the smallest most unexpected ways and places. Hallelujah.

Be near, oh God, be near.

In Your ocean, I'm ankle deep. I feel the waves crashing on my feet. Its like I know where I need to be, but I can't figure out just how much air I will need to breathe when your tide rushes over me. There's only one way to figure out, but will You let me drown?

This is my desire, consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful to touch me. I know that I'm in reach, but I am down on my knees waiting for something beautiful.

My heart hurts today. We had an amazing team meeting earlier, but when its the Lord humbles you it isn't always fun. In fact, it rarely is.

There is so much in my life and here in Estonia, in the cities where we haven't even had camps yet, at home, at school. Not to mention all that is stirring in my heart and in my spirit.

I can't do it. I really can't. And it hurts when I realize that I can't be superwoman. I try so hard to be all of these things for all of these people and the reality is: I can't be Jesus. I must be like him, let Him outpour from me, but I absolutely cannot be Him.

Its not that this is a shock, I know I can't. And trust me, every day is a constant reminder in almost every relationship and interaction I have that I'm not good enough, I don't measure up, and I never will.

But, I'm not defeated in this. I love that I'm not good enough, because thats why Jesus did what He did for me, for you. For us.

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

Matthew 11:28-30

"Come to the fountain, dip your heart in the stream of life. Let the pain and the sorrow be wiped away by the waves of His mercy, as deep cries out to deep."

Be near, oh God, be near.

With everything.

Everything within my heart is breaking right now.

"Rising of the sun, burn away my sorrow, chase away the night, and pull me to tomorrow. Fill in every part of my hear that is hollow."

Today is the first day that I really feel alone here. I know that I'm not, and I can rest in that; there is something greater holding me so that I can breathe. But my heart sure does hurt.

Satan, when will you relent? You can't have me.

Psalm 46. Be still.

Breathe your spirit in me.

I love that song.

"So breathe your spirit in me, I need your spirit inside this heart; alive in me."

I wrote this in my journal not too long ago:

Your embrace is my air.

God's response? "So, breathe."

I don't know why that can be such a difficult thing for me to remember. If the God of the universe is my breath, and if His embrace is my air, then I can breathe easy because He is holding me.

The end of that song is a declaration that I cling to every morning: "I am not the same, I'm a new creation. I am not the same anymore. I am not ashamed, I will not be shaken, I am not the same anymore."

So... breathe. Respira. Vivira. Breathe.

I had a nice little bus ride/walk back from town the other night. Walking through all these streets in the country area outside of Tartu, I decided to make believe a little. With Once and Griffin House playing in my headphones, I kicked rocks as I walked down the dirt roads, past all the old houses, torn down houses, houses that looked like no one had lived there in years. In the middle of that I passed a dandelion and remembered that one moment that I wrote about in front of my house in Milledgeville where I blew a dandelion like I was 7 again, and stood in that moment knowing I was exactly where I was supposed to be, and that familiar feeling was there again. I got to pretend like this was my home, and for a moment I forgot it wasn't.

I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. So, I'm going to breathe.

Armastus

I cannot hold it in and remain composed. Love's taken over me, and I propose the letting myself go. I am letting myself go.

Here we go.

He utters His voice, the earth melts.

[Inhale.]

Talk about a powerful truth. Best part about it, is it isn't a song lyric or something clever someone said, its a Psalm.

Psalm 46 speaks so loudly of the power of our God, the strength of our creator, our sustainer.

This is from my journal this morning:

"Its so good for me to pray with my team, as a body, a community. Sitting here praising God, listening to Johanna pray in Estonian and Andrus play "Carried to the Table" is perfect. All I need is coffee and I'm good :). He simply utters a sound of His voice, and the earth melts. Sheesh, talk about power. Consume me from the inside out, Lord. From my heart and my sou to the world. Fully for you. For you and you alone. Awake my soul. In this nation, awakening."

Sometimes I get so caught up in everything, all these ministries, all of these groups and communities and I forget that I just need to be still in the presence of my God, the King. I want to change my heart so that my actions and life follow, not the other way around.

Why do I do this?

Because He is who He says He is. Simple. Peace and empty hands.

I wrote this in my journal the other night:

Lord, your embrace is my air.

"So, breathe, Samantha. I AM holding you."

[Exhale.]

People continued.

I can't stop listening to Sean McConnell, Joshua Radin, and the Once soundtrack.

It just feels right.

This another person I've had the opportunity to meet since leaving the US:

This is Seth Miller. He is one of the most genuine people I know. The moment I met him, he showed sincerity and his huge heart for discipleship. He is going to to great things, I genuinely believe that. Plus, him and his two best friends and I are planning to go to Africa next summer. We shall see. Either way, this isn't the last I'll see of those three. I believe that, too.

I suppose I'm not as soft as I give myself credit for, which is a shock...because sometimes I swear I was raised by teddy bears.

SInce being here, my heart has been softened so much, the stone around it has been chipped away and for the first time in almost a year, I've cried. Which is amazing, because I needed it so badly.

I'm onto something here...and I can't wait to figure it out.

Love.

Malenovice, Czech

So, I've been in the Czech Republic for the last week or so and I've met some wonderful, wonderful hearts and learned so much about who they are. Everyone involved with this ministry is so transparent and willing to know and love others around them.

These are some people that have really touched my heart.

This is Brittany. She is absolutely hilarious and ridiculously friendly. She has the spirit of a child and isn't afraid to be like a child, but at the same time has a wonderfully mature spirit. I feel like I've known this girl for years, and I know this isn't the last I'll see of her. In the short time we've been here, her spirit and her smile have encouraged

me so much.

This is Katelyn Joy. Rightfully named, if I do say so myself. I chose this picture over the other ones (of her laughing because she is FULL of joy) because it really shows who I have seen her to be at her core. She is a thinker. She is

the kind of girl who wants to know who she is speaking to. No matter who, no matter where from, she is intently listening to you and your heart and from that, JOY just radiates from her. Not to mention her eyes can pierce through even the hardest of hearts.

And this beautiful creation is Katie. This girl is one of the most encouraging, hilarious, and kind women I know. She has the most free spirit and radiates joy from her as well. As you can see, she is the biggest goof, and finds joy in everything. She is intentional with her conversation and is aware of what she has to do to focus her mind on the Lord which I really admire. She enjoys keeping calm when she needs to, but dances in the joy of the Lord in every moment she can. I have absolutely loved my time here, and I can't believe I have another two months ahead of me of meeting people and growing life on life with them. This is just the Czech! My team and I leave for Estonia tomorrow morning, and after a 21-hour car ride will arrive in Tartu!

3:43am

Well, here is where I am:

Love is a choice. Love is not a victory march. Its a cold and its a broken hallelujah.

I'm so broken, and I need my Lord. I need my Jesus.

Love, sing to my soul. Sing to my heart.

Don't let me go.

May 16th, 2010

My Utmost for His Highest

Recognize that God does in fact provide. If we’re focused on our own self-pity, we don’t leave any room for the God of the universe to use us to love someone else.

Conviction, much?

Lately, I’ve been very selfish with my time and energy and I don’t think I like it. Yeah, God is big enough to work through my junk, my crap, and change the world despite the fact that I suck. But that doesn’t make it okay for me to be so selfish.

I’m excited to change this.

I was thinking about my mission in Estonia this summer, and I don’t like that I feel like I’ve been viewing it as an escape. I don’t want to run away to serve and then comeback to be the same as I was before.

I want to leave from a place of worship, from being a servant, to being a servant somewhere else and continue to be a servant when I come back from overseas.

So, I prayed for opportunity and to not be blind to it when it comes my way.

Literally, the next day, I met a homeless man named Rick and I just talked to him. It was funny, because I sat there and thought about talking to him, drove away, and turned around to go talk to him. I thought it was classic that it happened that way.

His name was Rick, from Seattle, who loved the Lord and wanted to read his bible more than he did.

He clearly saw society, and how distant, fake, and just mean people can be. He was broken-hearted and down in his spirits.

He had a ridiculous tan from walking up through south Florida on his way to New York. I told him it was a crazy place to which he said, “isn’t it all?”

Yes, Rick. Yes it is.

It was really beautiful if you ask me.

I’m going into this summer, with the mindset that Rick has. With a clear, open mind, a broken and humbled heart, and a desire to know people and learn more about the God that I love.

Ten days.

Once again.

Failed.

Someone once told me that I see the world the way it was meant to be seen. That I live in a way that people should encourage and appreciate...

I sure as hell hope not.

I've been in the middle of a sick painful and frustrating battle for the last six years.

And I'm beyond sick of it. I want it done. It's done. It is finished. I declare freedom and I speak this away.

Satan, when will you relent?

I'm not worthy of any of this: a loving family, friends like sisters, a boyfriend with an honest heart, a ministry with amazing high schoolers, an internship that is a tangible version of my heart.

I'm not worthy of any of it, and I can't begin to understand how God still l loves me.

I want your divine nature, I'm putting it on.

I want out of my skin, of my shell. I want out of this.

I just want to be done, and some days I don't feel strong enough. Some days I want to crawl away and erase the last day or so. Some days I make myself sick, and I just want to be done. I just want victory.

A new season

Its about freaking time.

I've been so sick of where I am and where I've felt like I've been stuck lately and I can't wait to move. I can't wait for movement, for motion.

These past few months have been some of the most discouraging months of my life. All I've wanted to do was get this season over with. I just wanted to paint whatever picture needed to be painted, and be done, then move on.

But thats not the way the Lord desires my heart to be, so the past few months were how they were for a reason: to refine me through the flame.

Who would have thought it would be so painful? To refine something, it must go through fire.

So I am.

On being home.

Its been so nice to be home lately, but only for the sole reason that I've missed my parents and the community that I have in them.

I don't fully hate this town, hate is even too strong of a word these days.

But there is still something to be said about a lack of authenticity around here, and an excess of arrogance...which makes sense why I was the way I was for so long.

I think the best thing that's happened to me was moving out and realizing that home really is where my heart is, not my person.

I love that I can rest in that hope, home is where my heart is...not where I am physically, and I'm more than excited for the day that my home and my location are lined up.

Another thing other than the idea of home thats been on the forefront of my mind lately, is this idea that I'm not perfect. I mean, I've grown up hearing and trying to believe it, but it never stopped me from striving for it.

Well, lately that idea has been beyond shattered in my mind and life and I've never felt more freedom from it in my life. Its wonderful :)

This summer and the fact that I'll be in another country loving people in the name of Jesus has a lot to do with this though. Absolutely.

I'm going to be with a team of people who aren't expecting perfection by any means, but devotion. Not that every step is the right one, but that my heart behind my steps is pure and desiring to honor the Lord.

I'm not too worried, except for the fact that I don't want to feel judged and I want to break that idea immediately.

I've got all these fears and ideas bouncing around my head, and I'd like them to stop for a second and just breathe so I can do the same.

Dear summer,

I once asked you to break my heart for what the Lord breaks for but to leave my legs so I can at least stand. I'm still desiring the same heart for this summer.

Go easy on me, I'm not super woman.

Love, Sam.

I am my father's daughter.

You love me, you really love me.

I have an amazing dad, and empowering dad. One who loved me so well that I didn't have to heal bridges and wounds in order to successfully receive from my heavenly father. I have a dad who didn't let a day go by without saying "still one more."

No, he's not perfect, but his love for me is.

I have an amazing dad. We have an amazing Father.

The rain poured so hard tonight.

"When your heavenly father rains down on you, its not like you can rain back at him. So, just stand in it. Receive it. Dance in it!"

I got home earlier tonight, and my dad gave me his old bible that he found when going through stuff (along with the cleaner's receipt that my mom wrote her name and number down for him the nigh they met. He kept it! Such a romantic...its where I get it from) and in his bible, he had Psalm 119:11 marked and noted. Just like mine. Just like my heart.

I am my father's daughter, and I love every aspect of that.

Sheesh, Jesus, you're so freaking cool.

Hosanna.

Ma armastan sind, Eesti.

Oh man. Oh man, oh man.

My heart is soaring, and I can't wait to be in Estonia.
The weather is beautiful and today I had a perfect moment that I'm choosing to keep for a while.

I walked up to my house after having a wonderful morning/afternoon and I saw a dandielion...you know, the one's that you blow all the little things off and make a wish. So, I stood in the sunlight just before the shadow that my nostaligic green house makes on the sidewalk, made a wish, took a deep breath, and didn't stop exhaling until every floating piece was off the stem. I stood there for a bit, spun around once or twice, taking in the suns rays that for a while I didn't believe I deserved, and realized just how blessed I am.

Goodness, it was perfect.
I'm going to trust this for a little bit.

So, this is my heart lately.

I have this friend named Jacob who has a wonderfully authentic view of life, love, redemption, hope, and roots. So, here's what he has to say and beautifully took the words out of my mouth.

"2/7/10: My waffle house romance observations

Two booths at Waffle House other than mine.
One has two couples, four friends.
I'll admit that I'm nosy when it comes to people watching, so I listen to them.
Dropping serious discussion topics for college seniors.
"His career." "Starting a family." "Saving money."
Both girls had rings on their fingers.
Recently engaged.
No physical interaction? His arm is halfway draped around her on the edge of the booth. One girl grabs her fiance's arm during the conversation.
But rings on fingers mean's love. They're in love?
Planning for the future. Homes, jobs, careers, families, bank accounts, forms, papers, taxes.

Booth two. Have they stopped staring at each other since they walked in?
Enormous, goofy grins.
He keeps stepping on her toes under the table, on purpose.
She kicks him back.
He jokes about something quietly, she bursts with the most annoying, loving laughter.
He smiles and can't help but chuckle at her.
Her face crinkles in a playful, posed frown, but she knows why he's laughing at her.
She knows how he feels, she knows she makes him smile.

The all leave.
First the two couples, then the one.
Six people leaving.
Three men pay checks.
Two of the men shake hands.
Two of the women hug and say, "Goodbye!"
Two cars driving off to plan their lives.
But one guy and one girl laugh and stumble off to their car.
He gives her a push and runs off, slowly, as if he wanted to be caught.
She catches him, punches him. He lifts her in the air. And they laugh.

Rings are metal and rocks. "Engaged" and "fiancee" are words, created by people.
But love is love, and romance is romance. Feelings are feelings, more than words, actions.
Second booth, please."

Second booth, please indeed.

annndd, we're done.

Sometimes I just need to remind myself that love shouldn't be conditional, and neither should my mood.

My hope isn't in man, but the Lord.

"I must pull myself together, this is a brand new day." - Bryce Avary

as tangible as I can make it, here's my heart.

So I write a lot about the house I live in because it really just captivates my heart.

The smells, the colors, the way the light comes in through my huge windows. The way I can hear anything and everything on my porch, the sidewalk, and the street I live on. The huge sliding doors I have, the porch swing that I can't wait to rest on when it gets warmer out.

The way the foundation has settled and the entire house is crooked, my kitchen and how it all encompasses a mix of the beauty of its old age, and the newness of the parts that are renovated; redeemed. Not to mention, since I've rearranged my room, I wake up to the sunlight on my face every day. I love that, I don't like to feel like I'm racing the sun. I could go on for a while about it, I'm simply in love with it. It makes me excited for the old house I get to own and live in one day; the house I get to make my home.

I've found such a comfort in the high ceilings and old wood floors. It feels so quaint, and lately I feel that I'm really starting to see what people mean when they tell me I have an old soul. I've been told that so much, and I've never really found a beauty in it until now. I've had this peaceful and giddy feeling. Like I'm in love with something I once loved but became comfortable with. I've re-kindled a love with simplicity.

I began this blog from something a friend once said to me about being at peace, and holding onto nothing; peace & empty hands. I've found a love, or rather re-found a love for that very idea: peace and empty hands. I've found such a love in imperfection, and I've fallen deeper into a love with the God of the universe. I have butterflies, and I feel like flying. I feel like I should feel when I'm in love, and I'm beginning to wonder if what I've felt before with so many people, so many relationships, was actually love.

In such a beautiful and broken way, I don't think it was.

The Lord, my father, has been showing me so much about what it means to be loved. I've never felt so loved in my entire life as I have been lately. I've seen the Lord's love for me in the way my house makes me feel, the way coffee smells, the way the air smells in Milledgeville after a good rain. He's shown me love in the way that I deeply miss my sister. He's shown me love in the way that I desire so deeply to see Him face to face. He's shown me love in the excitement I get when I think about Bethany and Julia's future husbands. He's shown me love in thinking about what it will be like to hug Jesus. Ugh, that gets me every time. Think about it: hugging the very being that created you and loves you for all that you are simply because He made you. Not because of anything you've done, not done, or do. Sheesh.

Recently, I took a 6 hour road trip to spend a few days with some awesome guys in Nashville. My whole life I've been "one of the guys" and since I've lived in Milledgeville, I actually have legit friends that are girls and care about my heart and get my in ways that my guy friends can't, but it was so nice to spend some time being "one of the guys" again. Its nice to know my brothers need and appreciate me. Thats something I don't get a lot in Milledgeville, and definitely not back home. When I think about being back home there isn't one thing that resembled a shred of community, and that absolutely breaks my heart more that I can explain.

But, thats besides the point. When I was in Nashville, I got to be a sister for my brother, Luke. Goodness, I missed him. I made new friends, and felt an excitement for the rest of my life, not to mention an affirmation that I'm going to move to Nashville when I graduate. I love it there, my heart is placed all over this world: Milledgeville, Nashville, and Estonia. I wish I could be in all three at once.

I suppose now I'm just putting everything thats been on my heart lately into text. I love it. I makes me feel real. Authenticity is something thats lacking in our world, in our communities, and in our friends. So much so that I really don't like going back to John's Creek or Forsyth anymore. I hope the places where my heart is never lose that. It would break me.

Here's what I wrote in my journal last night. I believe that it sums up where I am. In my journal, when I write in cursive, its when I write what I feel that the Lord is speaking over me. For this though, I'll make it italicized. So, here it is:

"I WANT TO HUG YOU.

I WANT TO SEE YOU FACE TO FACE.

I'm due for a LOVE and I won't close my eyes until I find it.

But I'm going to meet you with open eyes; tired and poor with a thorn in my side.

You knew when to pick us off the vine, you'll know when to make our colors bleed together.

All of this waiting in sweetening your heart.

I'd love to see your face, and finally find a place

Only spirits make better wine.

remember 'How to: learn to be loved.'

You're at the 'wait. wait. wait.' part.

I can do this.

you can do this."

I can, and I believe that.

2/12/10

The past few mornings I've woken up to the smell of coffee and felt new.

I love it, it goes a long with this old house so perfectly. I wake up to rain, cars driving by, old wood, and coffee. Its a beautiful thing really, and I'm learning to take it all in.

Last night I went to this thing called transition. Its a college ministry at my aunt and uncle's church in Snellville.

Long story short: I've been a name without an action: a christian, since I was in the fifth grade. But I've been a fire with an action: a believer, for the last five years. And last night was the first time in those five years that I feel like I have genuinely received and encountered the living God. As I say that, I can think back to moments where it seemed similar, but last night I was overcome with the joy and victory that I have in the Lord.

I genuinely believe that I'm free.

That I'm victorious.

That the Lord loves me despite everything I've done and do.

That in the midst of my brokenness, and in the midst of this broken and hurting world that a light has come, and His name is Jesus.

Yeah sure, it sounds cheesy, but cheesy things are cheesy for a reason: they work.

It sucks how I can't escape discouragement, though. I know I'm free, but people around me still make me feel like I'll never be good enough, like I'll never have truly enough love to be able to help people or love others. Like it seems out of reach and no matter what I do, or what I say or what I may actually be feeling, it means nothing and nothing changes.

Those are lies that I'm trying not to believe, but it seems impossible when the very surroundings where you feel safe are the very ones that discourage you.

All I can say is Jesus, and thats enough.

I pray that I can be enough.

A new foundation.

There will never be a day that when I hear someone gave their life to Christ that I won't cry.

I genuinely believe that.

If you've ever heard of the story of Fruitcake & Ice Cream by Louie Giglio...you really should listen to it.

Long story short there are these two girls, one who's life was impacted by the Lord, and another who's life was impacted by the first girl who's life was impacted by the Lord.

Its a story of love when its not comfortable, and love when its hard.

Its a story about giving up never being an option and about the fact that life in no way shape or form turns out how we want expect it to.

Its a story about redemption, and fire, and pain, and love, running, watching...and fruitcake and ice cream.

I have an ice cream in my life, and she calls me her fruitcake.

That is a blessing in it of itself that the Lord has given me this amazing beautiful and brilliant girl and made her a part of my life that I know will never willingly let go of me.

Thats cool.

Not only has He given me that, but He's taught me so much about myself and how WE love Him through my relationship with this girl.

I love her to the moon and back.

Anyway, my point about fruitcake and ice cream....The girl who's life was changed by the first girl: in the story, the real-life true story, she became a believer and three or so months later died in a car accident. Not the ending you would have picked, however the Lord knows what He's doing...

She kept this journal, that the other girl gave to her father, who read it, read about Louie Giglio...and then approached him and gave it to him to have...which is where Louie gets the basis for this specific sermon about grace and passion and fire and pursuing the heart's of God's people.

That story has changed countless lives, given countless nights and moments of hope. Its been a hope for me and my ice cream, and something that shakes the very foundation that is my soul.

I was looking at Passion's 268Blog today, and Louie made a post regarding this story. You really should go read it. http://268generation.com/blog/ Its titled, "Sometimes there is a Bow."

However, long story short: Ice Cream's father became a Christian a few days ago because of the way the Lord used the story of his daughter to impact the lives of SO many people.

And now I'm crying. Praise you, Jesus. Your power and love is good. Your grace and mercy are my healers and you are the God of the universe who loves us.

Sheesh.

So, I've started writing music...

I am absolutely overwhelmed with joy and peace and I have no idea what to do with it.

In the words of Taylor Swift, "When I feel strong emotions about something, I usually write a song about it."

So, I did.

A lot of definite things are happening that haven't happened to me in years. I'm feeling things I didn't allow myself to forever, and I can't tell if I'm scared or misplaced.

Something is telling me that I'm just scared.

Even though I should stop, well, here I go.

I miss a lot of things, I love a lot of things, I want to be a lot of things and go a lot of places.

But I believe in one thing: I'm loved and pursued by the God of the universe.

That is something that will never change. "Your love never fails."

Well, my philosophy class is calling my name. Plato, here I come.

Goodbye for now, be blessed, be loved.