For some reason I was feeling poetry this week. So I wrote this out. I would’ve never posted it if not for a friend to encourage me. Here goes:
I sit here on this shore Read More
This oh so familiar shore
Wondering if I might
Be able to take flight
Or wondering if instead
These wings were made to swim
And if i can do neither
Will I simply become a deep diver
And if I take the plunge
And dive down into the sea
Who in the world will be there to rescue me
A while back I wrote a “Liturgy for the Fog” mainly for my missionary friends in the very foggy season of transition, after going through my own very foggy transition season.
Now I wrote a Liturgy for Spring, ripe with hope and also pain.
Springtime arrives. Slowly at first and then all at once.
Green is everywhere
The blooms and pollen and flowers teaming with new life and vigor
Reminding us that year after year the cycle continues:
New birth, revival, hope.
The hope of sunshine and warmth for body and soul
The promise that the chill of pain and darkness won’t last forever
The promise that nature births hope each spring even if we cannot
The promise that God holds hope for us
Even when we cannot muster our own Read More
I sat at my best friend’s dining room table in her cool container house in Port au Prince, Haiti (yes, her home is actually made of recycled shipping containers). We reflected on life and transition and the seasons each of us have been in since I left Haiti in December, 2017, and as she prepares to leave Haiti after 4 years.
I found these words coming out of my mouth, referring to the last 1.5 years of my life: “I will never regret this season of my life.”
I took time after leaving Haiti to piece my life back together in a new way, a way that better reflected my values and different view of myself, the world, and God. Read More
Most days my mind is consumed with all the things I’m not doing well in life, how maybe I’m missing the mark, or am just not quite in touch with God’s perfect plan for my life (as if God is hiding it from me).
I’ve been thinking the last two days about what to write about for this week’s blog post. I so desperately want to be a writer, influencer, podcast-er, speak-er, all the things. I’m pretty sure I should listen to Brene Brown’s TED talks on the daily in order to truly muster up the courage to really step out in that arena and try and fail and try again.
So today, I’m going to write about trying. Read More
I wrote this piece in February, 2017 and over two years later it still rings true. I want to keep returning to my heart, keep listening to her voice, keep creating space for her to breath.
Dear Heart, Read More
I'm not very good to you sometimes. I'm not very kind and gentle. I expect you to see the worst of the world, the injustice, the suffering, the pain, in the States and in my current home, and I just expect you to keep on plugging, keep on pushing. I haven't given you very much time to process the deep pain and suffering you've seen and felt. And for that, I'm very, very sorry.
It's in the quiet days of listening to worship music, a sermon, cooking, cleaning, that I get to digest the things my soul has seen, has bore witness to. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've let other peoples thoughts and actions invalidate you. I'm sorry I haven't trusted you a lot of the time. I'm sorry I've let you trust people that have proven to not be trustworthy. That happens in this life, even when you're being careful, but I'm sorry I haven't given you the time and safe space to grieve and feel that.
I am missing the sunsets.
And it’s so much more than that.
I miss the pace of life and the simplicity of Haiti.
I miss no electricity and afternoons of stillness and quiet to recover from the day with nothing else to do but sit on the second story porch and look out at the mountains behind port au prince as the sun painted it’s way down to the ocean.
I wasn’t chasing then. I wasn’t chasing the sunset. I was forced, for a time.
Forced by the lack of distractions, the lack of busy, the lack of hustling. The lack of electricity, the lack of good internet (or any at all), the lack of obsession with social media and being connected. The many things that the ‘modern world’ has to offer are the very things sucking away our souls, my soul. Read More
During my few years in Haiti, I lost myself.
I lost myself in the best sort of way and in the worst sort of way.
1 year + out I can see the immense fruit of that season , death and re-birth, and am so thankful for the healing sabbatical I took after leaving Haiti.
The losing and finding myself was painful, brutal, and a Holy process of tilling the soil of my soul. To be clear, I didn’t have much choice. The choice is: look inside or become incredibly hardened, cynical, and bitter from the pains and traumas that accumulate (in an accelerated fashion) overseas.
Saying yes to moving to Haiti was saying yes to splitting my heart wide open and taking a deep look around… but I didn’t know that at the time.
I was faced with my own privilege, biases, worldview, faith, and understanding of God. In the midst of my fight for healthcare for the poor, I denied myself over and over again. Read More
I wrote this blog in an attempt to get honest with myself and the anxiety I’m carrying inside.
I head to Haiti in less than 2 days. Haiti holds so much for me - memories, anxiety, laughter, joy, pain, a short lifetime of experiences. I am so thankful for the many ways my time in Haiti changed me and I’m so thankful for the opportunity to go back. Read More
Ever felt crushed or broken in spirit?
What if the crushing wasn’t a result of your own doing but someone else’s? Or maybe just the messed up world we live in? What does God have to say about that?
Please pass along to someone you think it might speak to! Read More
Here we are: January, 2019.
What. The. Heck.
Maybe some of you are thrilled the holidays are over and ready to get back into a routine. Maybe you want to go back and relive every moment of the Holidays all over again… okay, well most moments.
So, January. Here we are. An invisible page is turned and all the sudden we should have goals and resolutions and it’s a new year and all the things.
I love how Emily P Freeman says ‘Dear new year, be gentle with us, we pray’ in her Blessing for the New Year.
Simplicity is attractive, and yet, so very counter-cultural. I drive down the countryside of Indiana and note the piles of trash parked on the side of the road. We just ended the season in America marked by excess; it still overwhelms me compared to life in Haiti.
So as we seek simplicity in life, soul, and space, here are a few suggestions to declutter your life and mind: Read More