Home.: 11/2009

I found this blog tonight, its dated November 2009... it still relevant so its being posted. Funny how reading something like this I can instantly remember why it began, and even more so-- why I never finished it.

I have 7 different songs in my iTunes with the title "Home". Outside of that there are countless song titles that contain home, or the album name does.

When the word comes to mind, what do you think of first?

Sometimes I think of the driveway of my childhood home, or I think of riding my bike down Mainstreet with Katie following behind making my laugh so hard I nearly crash into things. Home sometimes feels like a distant place or idea that I'm unable to touch or grasp when I feel lonely, and at times it is a warm cozy blanket on the couch watching tv with Gracie.

Through the years my notion and idea of home has continued to be shaped, molded, and changed in new ways... for which I have always been grateful. Having spent what seems like more time away from White Oak Lane, then actually here I have always felt at ease under this roof, and thankful to be protected by these walls.

Where is home for you?

Is it a building?

Is it in the arms of someone you love?

Or... is at on your knees at the mercy of the Savior?

Do you go there often?

Is it a place you visit?

Or is it where you live?

Craving

I am craving... Italy.

For the past few days I have day dreamed about lazy walks across the Ponte Vecchio bridge in Florence... and I have tried desperately to return to the quiet in my heart that I got to enjoy while sitting in St. Peter's Basilica. What's interesting about my craving of Italy is that when I recall what I loved most about my European Adventure 2009 I always think of the Passport Fiasco in Disney, and most especially Santorini... perhaps because Italy was organic, and complicated that I seemed to pass over it and would shoot for the simplicity of the 'Island Life'.

However, in Italy I had an intoxicating love affair with time. There was a quiet there that allowed my mind to wander and drift with each through each crack and crease of my heart that I don't often have the time to explore. It was a lot like I found the secret key that I'd been searching for forever to open up parts of my heart that I had been searching for. In many ways I came home from Europe this summer, more complete and settled in myself then I've been in the past couple of years. I have been thankful that what I learned about myself and the Lord did not remain in the glorious Tuscan countryside, or even on the Mediterranean. When I came home I floundered in the adjustment, and I often took my mood or panic on those that are easiest. One of the harder parts about that was in the midst of my outbursts in July, I knew, I knew that somehow I needed to stop and and pull it together. Thankfully after the adjustment to jetlag, summer, and general culture shock I was able to talk in my own voice again. And yet, in the deepest part of my heart I knew still what needed to be changed at home that was brought to light while away. I have been in that battle for the past few months, trying to capture what I miss. What I think I might miss later... what I most deeply want to connect too again. There lives this notion of a craving.

I was detached and removed from life in a productive way while abroad. I wasn't overly connected to home or people that I love. I was able to balance the journey at hand with the knowledge that I was able, independent, beautiful, quiet, and a daughter of Christ. It was intimate. It was lovely.

In the falling leaves I am beginning to see the outlines of the mountains and the bare ground that have been covered by the foliage in the spring and summer. I struggle in winter, and every time "A Long December" comes on shuffle (which is almost every day these days), I tend to think, that yes though it is not yet December the notion of what comes with winter already seems long. Arduous. At times lonely. I recently heard for the first time "Winter Song" by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson. They pose the question in it, "is love alive?" If I could have written myself a song this summer in the midst of the most wonderful and changing adventure I think it would be this one. In it I hear the Lord assuring me on the journey, I hear Him calling me back... and I think that in the midst of the change and pursuit of future right now, I long to know that what I learned this summer is still true. That I can still be quiet. That I can still hear. That I can still find the truth in words spoken by a perfect stranger, "Lei e Bello" (you are beautiful). That the moon looks the same in my sky here, as it does there. That sometimes when every last promise has been spoken and every controlled fear buried... that love is alive.

I crave Italy. I crave its smell. Its people. Its landscape. I crave to remember what it was like to be alone but not feel lonely. I crave to return to the perfect part of my summer... before Matt went into the Hospital, before Tex applied for a job, before I decided not to move to Cincinnati and to just wait. This summer there were 5 weeks filled with laughter, tears, quiet stillness, and divine intimacy with the Savior. Love was alive. Today I sit quietly on the couch and am imagining what the sun must be looking like as it sets out of view. I can only see the golden light it casts on the hills and trees out my window. Gracie has been close all day but now she plays outside, digging through the leaves that overpopulate my front yard. In the quiet, I remember standing on a bridge in Florence crowded with tourists and locals alike waiting for the sun to say goodnight. I am still. I am thankful there. I am telling myself that the moment will go too soon, and at some point in the future I will wish for nothing more then to return.

The moment has come. Today I plan fantastical adventures that require a leap of faith and a passport. I want to chase and I want to run after parts of me that I miss that lived there. And yet, a song plays in the background in my house that reminds me that this summer, I knew that this fall would be challenging. I did not yet know how or why, but I knew that things were shifting and I needed to be ready.

I have questioned what "being ready" really means, especially in light of Tex moving to Oregon. I often said that I wasn't, and didn't think it was possible. Today, in the hope for what was learned and for the peace in what was felt during 35 days solo in Europe, I know in fact that I was ready. It was time. My hurt lives in what is next, what this looks like, and how there are moments of sadness and insecurity that leaves me asking mostly to myself, "is love alive?"

Me. The Lord whispers quietly from then who grew into Me now... "Kari... this is my winter song to you, the storm is coming soon, it rolls in from the sea... my voice; a beacon in the night, my words will be your light to carry you to me."

My heart responds simply...

"Jesus, I may crave Italy... but my hunger is for You.

And your love is alive. I love and thank you."

-k

This is my winter song to you.

The storm is coming soon,

it rolls in from the sea.

My voice; a beacon in the night.

My words will be your light,

to carry you to me.

Is love alive?

Is love alive?

is love

They say that things just cannon grow

beneath the winter snow

or so I have been told.

They say we're buried far,

just like a distant star

I simply cannot hold.

Is love alive?

This is my winter song.

December never felt so wrong,

cause you're not where you belong;

inside my arms.

I wonder then, is love alive?

Expectations

My feet are cold, but my cheeks are warm... oh the beginning of a winter time ailment that I will consequently complain about until about New Years. In light of the general body temperature variances, I went for my run today, but in the spirit of being honest, I'm not a runner. I am a fierce walker who has a tendency to break out in periodic sprints of epic energy spurts... who then remembers the joy and pace of walking. In any event, I did the loop of Houston Street, which I suppose by all descriptions is still considered 'The Boys House' because two boys live there, but its honestly not the same since Tex moved out... so I now refer to it as either Houston Street, or just Matt's house when addressing an activity he has coordinated in his home. There are moments when I am driving that I forget that I won't be picking up the 6 foot 7 BFF at this house to gallivant and hang out with... sometimes those moments are peaceful because they bring him close, mostly those moments are numbing and make me just quiet.

For the most part I am doing well, I am endlessly thankful to the Lord for more happy moments then sad, and I continue to seek comfort in the Lord's plan and purpose for each moment, each day, instead of focusing on the unknown future which scares me often. I have noticed the patterns my doubt takes, and I have struggled with how to rise above the fear that the doubt seems to perpetuate. I don't know how to balance having a healthy dose of curiosity and fear, with the over analytical panic that ensues when I'm given too much time to think inside my head without fleshing it out to be shared with the one other person that I think might know exactly what I'm talking about.

I've been learning a lot recently about "Great Expectations", and no I am not talking about the book or the G.Paltrow film either.

I am a dreamer... in colors... in black and white... of wide open spaces... of a love touched and seen inspired by the Creator.

I am a planner... Parties, Vacations, Daily Chores, The things I can't plan about the Future- you name it I can "plan" it.

I am a control freak... yes... argh.

I am optimistic... eternally so... just covered up by my anxious questions.

I am hopeful... a learned quality by a great teacher.

I am funny... especially when I'm with Holly or Jessica.

I am a friend... and I pray sincerely every day that I am not just a good one, but a great one. A friend that anyone would be proud to call theirs, and for one or two: the best they've ever had.

These things about me I've known, sometimes I've despised and struggled against- but I know that the end of the day I have fought for them to remain true. They provide an outline for the path, the course of action, and the purpose to wake up in the morning... to offer them up as "God... do with me what you will, for I love you". I have learned however that sometimes I suffer from the notion that to guard my heart means I have to understand and outline particular parts of the future so that I can align my expectations... so that I can avoid being disappointed.

In true fashion of our friendship, Tex told me on my birthday I needed to let go of my expectations so that I could be surprised. This perspective infuriated me. As a girl my reaction is typical, "well you tell me that, and then I expect the world!!". His point may have been lost in the emotional moment I was drowning in. However, like all great things learned, sometimes the thought needs to live with us before we adopt it into our fold of new mantras, refreshed ideas or beliefs... this notion was like that. I returned home to a stack of mail and a couple of boxes which contained gifts to celebrate my arrival into this world on the 4th. In the two boxes shipped to White Oak were perfectly selected gifts, one from my sister Krystal, and the other from Mr. Piper.

Great Expectations. There are moments when our breath is completely taken away. Somehow everything in us that desires control, knowledge, the plan, and purpose escape our hearts and we are open... wide open for what has been waiting, for what will come. In my kitchen last week I stood before a gift I was told would be waiting for me. My expectations were met because I knew that any offering of the heart would have been enough, and yet I was surprised because I had been able to let go of the anticipation and I was able to relax enough to experience the moment. It was in fact the most perfect gift. A symbol of a journey away and back, significant to what I learned and experienced in the most fantastic adventure of my life (to date). I loved it.

This theme of expectations is the topic running through the seams of my life right now. I am trying desperately to fall to my knees before the Father and rest there waiting for more direction. I am trying to grasp the hope found in Him, and to understand that this particular season of life will not last forever.

I am trying to live each day for more then the things that I am looking forward too, like next weeks arrival of Mandy, Mom, and Bill and Meghan... or Theresa's wedding, or even as far out as Christmas and the Florida trip after the first of the year. I don't want to constantly be counting down to what's next that I am unable to experience what is at hand right now. This moment.

Right now I am snuggled into my bed and Gracie is curled up at my feet. The house is still and quiet. I spent a day running errands and taking care of business. Tonight I talked to Tex on the phone, and my heart got lost and I was trying to grasp the debate, "is it better to talk? or not to talk?", the answer is different based on the level of sunshine outside and the general mood of the moment. Right now I have a thousand ideas running through my head with over creative stimulation, and I'm trying to organize them into productive cognitive thoughts. Right now I plan Thanksgiving Dinner over and over again wondering if I've missed anything, and then wonder if I should try some brand new recipe. Right now does not know what is going to happen tomorrow, anymore then I knew last night what would happen today.

Right now asks me to not lose sight of the safest place I can rest. Not in the words spoken by friends, and not the promises and assurances offered to us by the best of which. One place. One Creator. One grand conductor in this symphony of emotion, confusion, and pursuit. In that place I can hear that I'm to let it all go. That I'm supposed to find my only true expectation met, in His unfailing love... and to let the rest be a surprise. I am searching, dreaming, planning, stressing, debating, and in moments drowning. I am supported in more ways then I am often able to acknowledge, for which I am thankful.

I am most thankful for gifts that waited at home. For laughter on the couch. For moments with Gracie when unconditional love is tangible in her perfectly soft ears. For fall leaves that still linger on trees. For endless hope spoken in truth, not ignorance. For plans made. For promises kept. For Jesus always. And... for the unknown aspects of tomorrow that will surpass this dreamer and planners Greatest Expectations... because somehow I was able to let go and be wide open for what is waiting... for what is to come.

Remembered Images

It's November and I am wrapping up my week through Kentucky, Ohio, and Indiana. I wish I could break down how marvelous it has been seeing Jessica, Mandy, Kerri, Emily, Julie, and Holly. I mean seriously, look at that roundup. Some of my favorite women of all time all snuggled together in a week of love, support, and perpetual birthday celebration. However, I didn't take a single picture this week. Which I think is in part because when visiting I get distracted in chatter, meaningful conversations, and giggle fits... but what is strange is that at some point in each goodbye I thought, "you should grab a picture"- but then never did. So unfortunately no ridiculous Facebook photos to upload documenting the shenanigans of the week, but in typical fashion when I recall each day, I remember very particular scenes in my head. Here is my run down of week.

Saturday: Met Bill and Jessica for dinner in Lexington, Ky. Stop number one. I keep laughing when Bill asks me my opinion of him, to which I respond, "you are nice... but no one is ever going to be good enough for Jessica in my opinion." (laughter followed to ease my outspoken statement). The look on my dear friends face was not of panic, or "seriously, Kari."... but there was this wave over her face where she knew that I meant it, and she knew it was true. She is a divine woman, and well the man that scores a forever with her is one lucky man.

Sunday: In my heart there are two images that still my thoughts. First, I got a phone call in the morning with news, and I knew that no matter what my efforts, or words offered, that I could not fix it. And then off course Sunday evening I said goodbye to Andrew before his road trip move to Oregon. There are many things that come to mind when I replay that conversation, but one particular moment after I had left the house is my favorite. I pulled into the parking lot that the 17 foot Uhaul was spending its time parked, and stood beside it. The night was perfectly still, clear, and a full moon appropriately governed the sky. I wrote little post-it notes for the window, how I love post it notes... but after I was done I stood in the midst of my tears and I prayed. For awhile. When I drove away I looked back half expecting Tex to be standing there, but thankfully he wasn't and instead I saw the truck illuminated in the glow from the full moon, and I went on my way. I will never forget the way that moment felt, and how bright and beautiful that sky was. Never.

Monday: Kerri Fowler now Kerri Tank. A day of shopping, coffee, Target, Old Navy, meaningful conversation, and just quiet moments knowing I was completely understood. But hands down favorite snapshot, learning the meaning of ridiculous rap lyrics on urban dictionary and trying to not die of laughter. My brother would be proud of my expanded knowledge of inappropriate things.

Tuesday: Emily. Starbucks marathon conversation- but the look on her face as she choose her words wisely to protect me but love and challenge me at the same time. It was beautiful, and I felt loved and intimately known. It was worth the drive to spend time with someone in which their love and hope was so palpable and encouraged me to continue to be open and wait. L.O.V.E.D. her beautiful face and the way she spoke to me.

Wednesday: Birthday. While I felt loved in many aspects, and in many moments it would be ridiculous to pick one. So it was my birthday so please indulge me with a short little list in this longer list:

a) 7am fuzzy socks and card. I remember Mandy asking me if I was going to stay awake, and I stood there knowing what was in her hand and saying "yes, I want it", and I remember her smile.

b) spa. In the midst of the wonderful hot stone massage, there was a point in the beginning when I remember opening my eyes, looking at the ceiling and thinking quietly to myself, "breathe. let it go". And every last worry, thought, frustration, and emotion found its way out of my heart and I was able to relax for the first time, truly, in what felt like an eternity.

c) catching up with all my text messages/phone calls after the spa. I was sitting in my car and noticed the times on one of them and deeply smiled when I saw how the birthday hour and minute was remembered- and how the three most important people in my life all called me within 45 minutes of each other, and before the morning was even over. I saw my smile in the window reflection, and it was dazzled.

d) shopping with Mandy and encouraging her to get the hat. The look on her face was priceless, "really!?!?" yes. get the hat. really.

Thursday: a day alone capped off with Dave Barnes. In the car afterwards eating frozen yogurt, and listening to a song that summed up my life at the moment, and Mandy's giggle.

Friday: getting coffee and munchkins and sitting in my car talking to Andrew on the phone. Staring at the same hours sign on the Dunkin Donuts window, which said "open 24-hours" but still listed all the hours on the window decal for each day, I thought it was kind of redundant.

Saturday: the joy of Hobby Lobby with Jules... endlessly walking through each and every aisle becoming more and more creatively overwhelmed.

Sunday: our waiter at dinner. Holly's face when she realized the guy behind me heard her say "shut up"... laughing so hard and so much... loving life in the company of her.

So far its been fabulous. I head back to VA tomorrow and will be greeted by my wonderful puppy. I pray that I'm able to focus and get cracking on some projects that I've had the time this week to expand in my head, and pursue the best ways to execute them. I feel fairly inspired, and I feel excited about what I hope to accomplish. However, I am anxious and nervous about walking into my house and snuggling with Gracie and having for the first time the presence of being home in Lexington sink in, Andrew Piper moved... away... and how everything at first will fall short in the void left. So I pray to be open to what will come, and I pray to be open in the company of those that I know seek to love me well... and I countdown. Yes, I countdown to the not quickly enough approaching Christmas Holiday in which I will be in the company of my best friend again, in person.

Thank you all for the texts, calls, and birthday messages. You are part of what I loved most about this week away- and in my heart I can see and remember those moments that there was not a picture taken to capture it tangibly... but will continue to live on.

Love.Love.

green sweatpants

I remember a particular pair of green Gap sweatpants that my brother Bill always used to wear. They were soft, and cozy... I often stole them. When he left his laundry out at the house if they were in there... they would not find their way into his basket but my own. I wore them around the house, and I wore them to bed. They were the best blanket you could ask for, and in them I was content. I can't say that my obsession was particularly because the Gap can make some fantastic sweatpants, it was purely rooted in the fact that my brother loved them and I loved my brother.

In November of 1996 my brother moved from Connecticut to San Francisco a few days before my 16th birthday. Saturday morning I remember saying goodbye to him, and being somewhat of an emotional basket case. That afternoon my Aunt Debbie took my sister Krystal and I shopping for the entire day and just hung out. I remember buying a new pair of sneakers, and I remember enjoying the afternoon's distraction. We pulled into the driveway, and as we unloaded everything purchased I sang a song in typical Kari fashion the entire way into the house, and just giggled. Walking into the house I was greeted by my mother who was talking to me about something I can't remember now and led me to the living room where the lights flipped on and "Surprise" was screamed. It was my sweet sixteen party with 30 or so of my closest friends from Young Life and Emmaus. It was a great moment. I was excited and felt loved, but there was a pang... an ache. That ache was for the brother I so dearly loved who was somewhere on his adventure across the country for his new big life in California.

I turned around and Bill was standing there. He had begun his road trip and turned around to be there for my birthday surprise. I didn't fall over, and I didn't pass out... but that ache I had felt deep in my heart was replaced by a love and appreciation I still cannot articulate. I opened the gift he brought, choked back the tears, and shared some time- and then again he was gone. The second time he left did not feel like the first. I had him there when I most wanted him, and in the midst of all those in the house I did not notice a single other thing... I felt loved.

In the preparing for him to go there was no address to send mail too ahead of him, and there was a lot that I wanted to say. So one night I sat on his computer that he left out in the family room and wrote him a letter. I saved it to the desktop and I trusted that it would be found when the time was right. I was sending him with a secret love letter and there was great comfort in that. I wanted to keep the beloved green sweatpants but I knew that I needed to return them. It was a sad moment, and I bought a pair of my own hoping that they'd be the same... but they weren't.

I can't remember when but at some point after the move I was going through and putting my laundry away and just going about my routine. I opened the bottom drawer of my dresser and for the first time I noticed what had been tucked inside... Bill's green sweatpants. I pulled them out and put them on, and just sat and cried. I remember wishing I had found them sooner because I had missed him so much, and well in 1996 there weren't cell phone's at our disposal and we'd go so long without talking, and I missed his voice... I missed the tickle fights and I missed everything spoken in the silent language of touch. The sweatpants were a life line to a brother that I missed, that I wanted to talk to, that I wanted to wrap my arms around.

In similar fashion I am about to say goodbye to Andrew Piper and send him with all the love and hope I can muster to the West Coast... days before my birthday. I know that my life isn't a movie, and that when I wake up on Wednesday morning three days after his departure he won't magically appear with coffee, and chocolate munchkins on my doorstep wishing me a Happy Birthday... but I do know that there will be an ache.

In the week or so since the news came I have thought about what I could keep from him, like my brother's sweatpants, that could bring some sort of comfort in the midst of this heartbreaking transition. I have not come up with any solutions to what will suffice, but I do know that the feeling I have about him leaving is a lot like how I felt when Bill left for California. I am proud of a choice made in believing that he is going where the Lord has planned, and I am humbled by his bravery to go in a direction that poses great distances between who and what he loves. I admire his certainty for believing that things are going to be "ok" even though I want a definition of what "ok" really means. I continue to struggle in having to grasp what can and will come by means of having to let go of what I know and love right now.

I'm not ready for the goodbye.

I'm not ready for communicating what I am thinking or feeling with words, when so often everything is said by our playful physical banter.

I don't know that I would ever be ready, and I can't honestly say I know what "ready" really means... so we just keep moving forward praying for some peace.

I have a thousand questions that I can't ask, and more that I don't even know how to articulate at this point.

Two weeks from today he goes.

Two weeks + 3 days I will have a birthday.

And its just feeling very much like 1996.

Forward

September. How are you?

It's a beautiful day. One to round up several afternoons that have been pleasantly warm in the day, and have cooled considerably in the evening. In the past couple of weeks life has returned to normal. Mandy came to visit, Labor Day had a little party at the house, spent some time hanging out with Matty while he is off from work, and got really excited to celebrate a birthday... I love birthdays... and when its your best friend's birthday- does it get much better? So, yesterday I got up really early to bring Dunkin Donuts Coffee and Donuts to Andrew Piper who was at work at 5am on his arrival to his mid twenties. I left camp and caught the sunrise, and like learned while in Greece this summer, it was still magical and peaceful in its silent articulation of hope. The afternoon brought a purge of all things in my closet that I haven't worn all summer, and things that just don't work anymore. It's an exciting thing to get rid of clothes that no longer fit, but friends... I may be glad to see those sizes go... but I really liked my closet. I really should have taken a picture of it. Anyway- after three hours of trying on everything I own, I got myself out the door for the Birthday Dinner for Mr. Piper with friends and then relaxed the rest of the evening with my two favorite non-boyfriend boyfriends.

Today I hoped to wake up and have already received the web templates I purchased for my website, but its Monday and the company I decided to go with is closed the weekend, so I imagine that when they guarantee delivery for 24 hours within purchase, that the fact today is a Monday means that I will receive templates on the later portion of those 24 hour window. I'm kind of excited, kind of terrified... kind of just ready to get that chunk of work done now that I've made some decisions and am trying to move forward.

Speaking of moving forward I have also applied for a job in Cincinnati. Perhaps to the joy and exclamation of Mandy Stegman, I clicked the application button, submitted the Resume, and then sent her the Resume so she could forward it to the manager she spoke to about me. Debating life plans are always frustrating, with a sliver of fun- because even though the unknown looms and I just want to know, there is an err of excitement and thrill too, because you know deep down that absolutely anything can happen. The hardest part about applying for a job that requires a move for me has always been, "Ok, if we get this, are we going?" I tend to want to know an answer to that question before submitting anything because seriously, why apply for something you don't think you'd take if offered. For the first time in a good while I found myself asking that question, without an immediate response after. The answer came later, in the wake of panic for thinking I could get it, back to the insecurity of not being a strong candidate. I am ready for a change, I am ready for the move. Which sort of ties back into my closet. As I pulled dresses off hangers to try them on, and then moved them to the pile of Goodwill Donations, there was something cathartic about the process of getting rid of the old... making room for the new stuff.

I am ready for the new stuff. There is sadness there because the 'old' no longer satisfies in ways that are necessary for growth... I still have a lot of love for the 'old', and to let go of it opens up fear for what happens next- and while I desire it deeply, I am also terrified.

Yesterday I gave Andrew the Happy Birthday To You! book by Dr. Seuss. He wants to start a collection, I like collections and birthdays, it seemed like the appropriate place to begin. I put the book down on the table after I'd read each tongue twisted phrase, and thought to myself that I should buy myself a copy of the book so that next year on his birthday we can iChat so he can still be read the story. It was one of the first times in the span of our friendship that I cognitively planned the future, and it wasn't a facilitation of sharing a zip code... it was about bridging the gap in distance. Today I woke up after feeling so content for the evening shared and birth of a beloved friend... and I was a little sad.

In making room for the future, it is hard to feel like the best things about life will remain. It's such a risk, such a chance, and its extremely difficult to not want things to be the way you think up in your head, just so you'd never have to let go. That is where I've remained this morning.

However, I know that,

Songs will continue to play on the radio that are divinely timed.

The sun... will rise each morning, that is for certain.

I will always love Diet Coke.

The ocean will continue to move to its own rhythm.

Sunflowers will still make me smile and make me hopeful.

People we've loved will always be people we've loved.

I will crave change as much as I avoid it.

Jesus will continue to redeem and restore my heart.

Moments worth savoring, will always pass in slow paced seconds- just so we can absorb them.

Letters, cards, and postcards will always tell the story better then we could articulate on our own in retrospection.

I want the future I know I need, but I want to believe that everything about my present that I love will facilitate it. I want to build my new life with those that I love now. I want to pack Matt and Tex up and move them to where we will next be. I want promises spoken, and I want to not think about how empty those promises have felt. The truth is... that while I do want the future... most days, I do not want it more then I want to still read a Dr. Seuss book in person to my best friend on his birthday.

In light of these things. I applied for a job. I opened up my heart. I am moving forward. It's a step. A beloved friend told me Friday that a step was good. In the face of what it meant, they smiled and encouraged me to take it. Sometimes, I want to creep up into their head and know that somewhere doubt, fear, and confusion live where they always speak hopefully. I want to see, I want to know that I'm not crazy for being scared and that together, we can be brave and uncertain all at the same time.

Forward Thinking.

New Spacious Closet.

"I'm one step closer
With my arms open wide
I'm one step closer

And I'm willing and to try

When you're standing on the edge
You don't look down
Till you're ready and willing to fly"

In Sickness And In Health

This past Saturday, our good friend Katie married Clay here in Lexington. While sitting among the other guests I will be honest, my mind wandered and drifted and thought about the trials of the week: Matty being sent to the hospital after going into cardiac arrest. What brought me back into attention and focus however were the specific exchange of vows, "in sickness and in health". I thought about Matty an hour south, at Roanoke Memorial Hospital resting before his surgeries that would begin on Monday. I thought about the span of my friendship with him, and I retraced every random road trip, inside joke, meal shared, and phase of life we have partnered in friendship to conquer. I then thought of Tex, the story of my friendship with him, how someone can mean so much after only two years of friendship, and how with Matt the three of us have created family with real support, laughter, and intimacy. Somehow those two boys mean more to me then most relationships I have had in my life, and have lent more to my growth in Christ and maturation as an adult then I often consider. 

Among a church full of guests, my mind did not daydream in typical fashion about my future wedding, or my future spouse... or anything about my future that I do not know. I thought of my present. 

I thought of Matthew Hypes, and Andrew Piper. 

And in those thoughts, my heart was full. 

I wrote an email today sort of updating those I had been in contact with in the process of Matty's hospitalization and progress. I hadn't written in a few days, and with Matt home I knew that it was sort of the last email of thanks and appreciation for the support felt in the week. I titled the email "Love.", it seemed fitting as I sat in the leather chair that resides comfortably on Houston Street at the boys house, and could only smile in deep satisfaction of how everything about watching the Food Network with Matt felt normal, routine, and typical. In passing moments I'd look over and notice his arm in a sling, and then I would piece together all the reasons why that was there. I'd remember the past week, the fear of the phone call I received last Wednesday from Tex saying that Matty was being flown to Roanoke after going into cardiac arrest. I remember the ventilator, the lack of memory, the awareness as he processed what happened, the Friday night when I finally realized how I hadn't yet allowed myself the emotional freedom to let go... There are layers I am still making sense of, and feelings that are still being resolved in the wake of the trauma. Thankfully, by all accounts and observations, Matt is as normal as can be. It is miraculous.

I have often said that Matt and Tex are like family. We are not typically understood by those who know us... there have speculations and judgements in the past two years. I honestly don't know how we function as well as we do, and by that, I mean, I don't know how Matt can spend as much time with Tex and I as he does without wanting to kill us (perhaps, this is where the refuge of "the roof" comes in). The truth is, when you look closer you will see what I see... and that is the ability of laughter that comes from the place of true vulnerability, when your friends can make you laugh at yourself in a way that would be offensive per suggestion of anyone else. You will hear the banter between "siblings" who can complete thoughts and sentences ranging in significance. You will see in the midst of my meltdowns, two faithful men hang onto every word, wait for the thoughts to make sense, and comfort each tear as it drops. 

Looking in you will see a set of three connected souls who do not have a marital vow expressed between them to promise 'in sickness and health', or a blood line that relates them genetically. But... you will see two boys that I would do absolutely anything for, and as I prepare for my future and where that will take me with the reality they will not be with me, my heart is deeply saddened at their physical absence but my heart encouraged because I am better because of them. I am challenged beyond myself to become she who waits patiently in the wings. I am promised from one, the stars and the moon... and the other, a lifetime of 'smooches' at the end of every thoughtful email. Their friendships for me have celebrated victories of self, offered unconditional support in adventures abroad, and for all has created a place of rest in each other's company that always feels like home. 

We are blessed. We have loved, laughed, fought, hit, tickled, traveled, cried, shared, and screamed together. With the welcoming of Matt home from a week of hospitalization, I know that I have seen clearly the bond between us deepen, and have appreciated the lengths we will go to for another, the sharing of support, and the unspoken understanding- we're in this together... come rain or shine... in good times and in bad... in sickness and in health. 

That. Is Love.

In My Mind...

This may be the longest I have ever gone without writing. 

It's not that I've been terribly busy, distracted, or without anything to talk about. Since my last entry I have celebrated Matty's Birthday with Tex, Bill, and Meghan at the Melting Pot. I have hosted my dear friend Emily and her precious children Jude, and Carly. We then took a road trip to Connecticut, after a whirlwind two days turned around and I was dropped off by Em in PA to ride back to Lexington with Tex who was on his way from a trip to Pittsburgh. I enjoyed the time with Emily, and I admire her ability to multitask in ways I cannot, and love equally and without measure two babies at the same exact time. I had some great visits while I was home, that rank among those tender moments in life that we wish we could hold onto longer- and as their time comes to close we wrap our fingers around it to savor it. Sandy's visit with her girls was that sort of visit. It was warm, it was deep, it was comfortable... and it was an afternoon following a challenging morning that brought peace and light. I spent some time with Renee, whom I believe could be a kindred spirit, and many times throughout the visit wished I lived in Connecticut so I could watch Sandy's girls, and Lucas who was not present, grow up. I have been home a lot this year... mostly in quick visits without much time to venture out into old stomping grounds, or to tap into relationships that have not been worked on very much due to time and distance. This summer when taking and bringing Gracie back I felt the pull of wanting to see and do more, but understanding that time was not in abundance and so each time I pulled away from my mom's house, in my head I raced through a favorite lunch spot, friends' couch, or some long lost memory that I wasn't able to visit with. 

The past few days have been hot and humid in Virginia. I have found solace on one particular rock in the middle of the river reading, and snacking on Uncrustables. I have driven the long way home both times, and I have relished the windows being down, the wind bustling through the car, and the radio exploding with the life anthem of the moment. It has been calming and centering, and I think in many ways they have been afternoons I have deeply longed for but just couldn't pull it together to go find them. 

Since I drove back down from Waynesboro on Sunday I have had one image come to mind time and time again- which has led to many countless wondering thoughts. This could also be attributed to the fact I've read The Time Traveler's Wife in the past two days, so in turn I've thought A LOT about time travel and memories. I decided that the trucks traveling on 81 were annoying me too much for such a beautiful day, and so I opted to drive back to Lexington on Route 11. I passed by Fairfield Elementary School, noticed their sign ready to go for new student registration, and one car in the parking lot. In the car there were only two people, and because of the distance and speed at which I was driving I was not able to see what they were doing there or if they were moving. 

The sight brought me back to a very familiar place in my mind, and to a memory long forgotten... I remembered my high school parking lot, and my friend Jeff teaching me how to drive our mutual friends car... a stick shift. I think I was 17, and it was spring. Jeff was patient as he watched me get so frustrated when stalling out on the very slight hills of the parking lot, and before I was ready- he decided it was time to take the driving lesson "on the road" and off we went. He laughed as I cursed down Route 116, and freaked out as we approached town, which meant stop signs, and stop lights... which ultimately meant that I had to get the car out of first gear without stalling. 

When I bought my first car, a red Honda Civic, it too required knowledge of the clutch, and my dad took me out driving in it. He was impressed at how easily I picked it up, and I didn't have the heart to explain to him that I had already been taught how to drive stick. I think it was one of those moments in my teenage years that I could very clearly see that while my Dad is always going to be my Dad, that at some point I would belong to someone else. My dad and I drove around a little bit, and he certified me capable of being able to drive safely... I graduated his driving course with flying colors... really all in thanks to the afternoon Jeff had spent with me months before that summer day. 

My thoughts linger and move through countless memories, snapshots of moments, and the deep well of feeling that remind me of things I can't articulate. Driving with the windows down, the wind blowing through my hair, I weave my way through the mountains of this place with ease and familiarity. 

In my mind-

I'm meeting Jeff for the first time on our Walt Disney World trip- and he's already finishing  my sentences.

I'm laughing with Erin hysterically at Old Navy while signing the soundtrack to M. Rouge. 

I'm at the New Years Summer Staff Reunion when Matty and I officially became real life "why weren't we friends?" friends.

I am driving around Bakersfield, California in a familiar yet unknown white volvo getting an In-n-Out Burger for lunch- and then Jamba Juice for dinner. 

I'm standing before a friend I love before I know how they'll hurt me and I feel the sweetness of laughter.

I'm discovering my beloved bench for the first time.

I'm driving on 64 following a black truck while having one of the most amazing conversations I've had in my life to date.

I'm sitting in the river, with the sun on my back as I read and day dream another summer day away. 

I'm tasting my first cup of Gelato in Florence, Italy.

I'm holding Mandy's hand while we ride the Haunted Mansion in Paris, before everything about the day changed.

I'm sitting on a bench before the most spectacular sunset in Santorini, followed by the most special sunrise with a friend the next morning.

I'm a little girl dreaming of my future while making mud pies in my backyard.

I'm many places, I'm many different ages- in my mind I see it, and I am remembering it in the way I suppose I would feel it if I were to go back to those particular moments as I am now. 

Most of my days are consumed with visions and pictures ranging in their emotional sentimentality. It is the freedom of thought that I so love about traveling solo, I am free to roam, and talk only to myself about what I remember. I find comfort in being able to do so. I wish I could articulate what I see in ways you'd understand. I see all these things in pictures I have taken- they are like my own little hidden stories and moments that live deep in the fabric of the image. 

In my mind... I am remembering some good things. Some hard things. I'm feeling a little lonely for times past. I'm wishing in some ways to go back to all the snapshots above and take notice a little more before they pass. I'm feeling content for pinkie swear promises kept. I'm feeling challenged in great ways by what is to come. In my mind, I'm still... just watching the scenes change. 

Sundays.

Sundays have become my favorite day of the week. I just went back into my calendar to see how long this trend has been true, and I'd say since the middle of April I have been enjoying some great afternoon's scattered with family, friends, road trips, Europe, and days of quiet. 

Among the highlights:

1) April 19th: Busch Gardens with Chad, Matty, Tex, and Jessica followed by camping out at Bill and Meghan's apartment. Outlet shopping. Showing Jessica my pictures in the gallery, Cheesecake Factory... lots of laughter and goodness.

2) May 10th: Celebrating Mother's Day with Bill, Meghan, Courtney, and Mom. The weather was beautiful and the day was capped off smores outside with the boys. 

3) May 24th: Florence. My first full day, and I walked the three miles from my apartment to the center of the city and was captivated all day. It's where I met my first friend, heard a cherished song played by an artist in the square, read about all the places I hoped to explore... received the gift of being told I was beautiful. It was one of my favorite days when I was gone.

4) June 21st: my last night exploring Santorini. I still don't have words to describe the way I felt when I was in Greece. As I ordered the many prints online the other day I often found myself just looking through photo's remembering quiet moments, and conversations that I can't touch and struggle to explain. It was a magical place and time. I pray that in the arrival of the prints and the construction of the books that will house them, I will finally be able to share those 5 weeks I was gone with those I left here. 

5) June 28th: NYC with Tex and Mom. It was a great weekend home, a whirlwind and I was exhausted. But I had the best time just hanging out with 'family', loving the beautiful weather in a beloved American City, had Pinkberry... found myself quiet more then chatty and appreciated the time to just be with people after spending so much time on my own. With the transition to Virginia, I have often wanted to return to the safety I felt during that weekend, especially that day.

6) July 5th/July 19th: Days spent solo after church. Heard a great sermon on the 5th which in many ways "snapped me out" of the funk and emotional difficulty I was having. I had a great day hanging out doing things I love, it was pouring down rain and I couldn't have been less effected by the weather. Yesterday, another great Sunday. Church, talked to Jamie for a little bit, took Gracie for a walk- like a serious "lets go work out" kind of walk. She's passed out on the sofa right now, I think still exhausted from the adventure of yesterday. 

I have loved every Sunday, and even though I only mention Six there have been afternoon's at King's Island with Mandy, train rides from Venice back to Florence, a lazy day in Paris getting excited for Disney, and lots of pool time on the island of Sardegna, Italy.

This Sunday is July 26th, which celebrates a best friend's Birthday, and separately a bittersweet anniversary which reminds me of the passing of time. The boys and I are going to dinner to celebrate Matty's Birth and to remember the journey since California 2005 in losing Bill. I know that when I wake up on Monday, and head about my usual routine I will be thankful for another Summer Sunday of Goodness to add to the list. 

friendship.wanting.needing.

I am home. For awhile. 

Since my last post I have returned to the States, only to have taken a road trip to Connecticut the next day, and then a week long love fest through Kentucky and Ohio, ending with Kerri and Justin's Wedding. I purposely didn't chat on the phone during my drive out to KY or returning yesterday in hopes to savor the quiet time in the car, to tap into a little bit of what I loved about my European Adventure: just time to think, pray, and have time alone. 

It.Was.Wonderful.

In May I heard a Sermon about Friendship. Then this past Sunday I heard another one. A different take and perspective, but still rooted in Godly Friendships that build community, and are a reflection of God's love for us, His pursuit of us. What was particularly interesting in the message on Sunday was that the previous evening I participated and celebrated with Kerri and Justin as they exchanged vows, and began their new life together. I watched a beloved friend commit her life to her love. It was beautiful and poignant. So... lots of thoughts on friendship as of late. 

Two years ago Kerri was an intern at camp, and was going through the growing pains of her relationship with Justin, and in the midst of that we became really great friends. On our own we could talk endlessly about boys, God, the future, the sales at the Gap, anything. That was the summer I decided to leave Property Staff, and with my intern Mark, Kerri and I had a summer full of "Day Three Dates" which were some of my favorite nights of that summer. It could be said at the time that Kerri completed the dynamic Mark and I had... but sitting here on this Tuesday morning it is sobering to think that two years later Mark's part of the equation no longer exists. Life happened. Hurt happened. And in the midst of Kerri's wedding on Saturday night, I caught myself glance over the crowd half expecting him to the be there. He wasn't. In the months since moving on, I never let go of protecting what it was, or who we were in it. I realized while in Europe that in doing so, I've silently hurt about it and that is exhausting. So while I searched his face in a crowd, and expected him to sit next to me so we could laugh- I knew that the best parts of Day Three Dates were two years ago, and the best part of right now is that I got to be with Kerri and our friendship could speak the truth, and for me, there was nothing to defend. That part of me, is over.  

While in Europe I thought OFTEN of Wanting and Needing. In High School I had, I suppose what some would call an unlikely best friend in Kathryn. I say unlikely because, I did Young Life and Emmaus, and she didn't- she participated in the Arts and maintained a close circle of friends who also did those things. I didn't think Kathryn and I would ever be friends, because when we were Sophomore's she ratted me out to my crush who was a good friend. I don't remember details. But I can laugh now, because seriously, what was I thinking? Anyway. We had mutual friends, and I can't remember now how it worked out but we became really close, and while we each had several confidants she was among my best and I loved her.  Our friendship was either all or nothing. I think even now, this may be my favorite thing about growing up with Kathryn- I knew that if I needed her she was all in, it was never lukewarm. We often had conversations about "wanting and needing", and it was a divine moment when our friendship was both. She went to College, I moved to New Haven, we were in touch. Then we weren't. I moved to Virginia, she came to visit. She met her husband, and I read Scripture in their wedding. She moved to England, and I lost Bill. We lost each other. Yet. A couple of years ago after her and Alan moved back to the States, and during a visit to Connecticut we met up for lunch. It was hard. There were pleasantries exchanged, we were cordial. But it was different. I realized how I had stopped fighting for our friendship, and in turn the wanting and needing were no longer applicable descriptions. We sat and were honest. We were all or nothing... still... and weren't going to settle from anything less then the other. When I got back in my car, my heart was deeply thankful that part of who we were was still true. Thanks to Facebook, we're able to randomly leave comments that always defer back to the past and completely make me smile. I mention her because in thinking about what I want in my life, and what I need in my life in recent weeks- I have often returned to what I learned during High School and in life after which thanks to the vehicle of her friendship... it all comes back to what I want and what I need.

What is true friendship? 

Is it the one that you know for years and years?

Is it the one that can recall your most embarrassing moment and ignite new joy?

Is it the one that in the midst of hearing a name brought up in conversation, searches your eyes to bring it comfort?  

Is it the one you can sit quietly with and not have to speak, for them to know your heart?

Is it the one that when you just want to talk about nothing can find something to talk about for hours?

In my life, I know it can be all of those things and it is so much more. 

Right now, in my life I have a beautiful image of Christ painted by those that I love, and love me. I have had a really challenging couple of years. There have been highs, and there have been lows. I have questioned and doubted my worth because someone lied to me. I have laughed so hard that I snarfed Diet Coke. I have cried in joy as I have experienced my friends love me while arranging hundreds of flowers for a wedding. I have had to walk away and found out the truth later. I have shared countless coffee dates and found my heart understood in another in a brand new way. I have heard songs on the radio that were reflections of what I thought and felt about someone. Right now I pray that I am loving, praying, and fighting for the right people. 

This summer I've learned a lot about friendship. I have seen the Lord in beautiful places and spaces. I have been quiet for days with only myself to talk to. I have pushed some away and not told them I was struggling. I have returned home, wondering if it was safe to land. I have written postcards, letters, and emails that were from the heart to another. I am still working out what I want and need for the every day and the long term... but right now in the midst of my closest friends I see Christ everyday in their love, their patience, their laughter, and the many ways they know my heart and encourage me to embrace more of the Father and to hear more of the truth. 

It's been a great summer of thought. The book is going to be fantastic. 

Stillness of Island Life

After the chaos and greatness of Disneyland Paris, it feels like anything written after that is just boring. The pace since I've arrived in Greece- scaled back, relaxed, slow, and even lazy. 

It. Is. Wonderful.

I arrived happily and exhausted from periodically crying all day leaving Paris in JOY for what I learned and how intimately close I felt to the Savior. I wrote emails trying depict it and explain such humbled awe, but often times just found myself with tears streaming down my face searching for words. I will happily take that kind of speechlessness any day. 

I am now 7 hours ahead of those on the East Coast in the States, and I admit the time difference is driving me crazy. When I was in Thailand at least it was an even 12, and there was nothing strange about it. I was waking up, loved ones were going to bed. Coordinating video chats were easy, and generally the amount of time shared awake seemed much easier to manage. Seven hours? It's just hard. I go to bed around the time most are finishing their days at work, and I wake up and everyone is sleeping. The small window for communication is tough. My email is generally most euphoric in the morning when I wake up. It's in those hours I'm sleeping that friends are able to catch up to me by looking at Facebook Albums, reading the Blog, or having the time to write me the BEST emails (or even better, video messages).

Yesterday I did a tour of the South part of the Island, and loved it. I learned a lot about the history of this amazingly beautiful place, and I captured small moments and tokens of what I love here in pictures. I shared a table with a family from California while wine tasting, and was able to talk about my adventures thus far. It felt like a normal day in my life up until that point- I for some reason as I talked about what I've been doing was completely blown away by the story of the past weeks. I've done some amazing things. I've seen some amazing things. I've been changed in some amazing ways. 

This morning I woke up at the perky hour of 5:30am, to take a walk down to the beach at the end of the street I'm staying. I am not typically a morning person, and I have delighted that in my itinerary I've not had to get up before 7am once. I made my way down to the beach, which is a rich black of volcanic sand highlighted with random white stones... it was quiet. The day for many was still a few hours away from beginning, and the sky was warming up as the sun began its daily arrival. I walked along the edge of the surf, surprised that it felt warm to my toes- and waited. I don't wait well. I don't slow down easily. I think if there is one thing that I had purposed for my time here in Santorini, it was that the process constantly going to museums, landmarks, and the city pace would slow down so I could breathe before I returned home on the 25th. I feared not being able to do this well, and I was anxious that I'd get emotionally antsy in the lack of "things". I have been blessed by a relaxed attitude, a mind that has wondered and drifted in thought while laying in the sun... I have slept peacefully with the most comfortable blanket ever that I am going to buy when I get home. The sunrise today made me pause, and it made me wait for what was coming... I couldn't rush it and I couldn't run towards it. I simply got to stand and ponder, think and pray, walk and wait.

It was beautiful, and I was grateful for many things as I watched it:

1) the motivation to wake up to watch it

2) the time to really be still before it and consider the magnitude of the Lord and His creation

3) the peaceful silence that was only broken by the sound of the waves crashing at my feet

4) how being relaxed allowed me to be open to my thoughts that ranged from significance, but mostly how I walked away understanding more then when I had arrived, simply because I had been silent and listened.

5) for friendships back home, and how I have been blessed by half a dozen that have walked with me through this entire adventure. Some have responded faithfully to prayer request emails. Some have been huge encouragers on the pictures. Some have met with me on iChat to talk "in person" to stay connected. Some have asked questions. Some have waited for me to speak. Some have painted plans for the rest of the summer. Some are waiting to find out what I'm going to do when I get back. Some are wondering how I'm going to be different. Some already know how. Some have challenged me with accountability. Some I find myself appreciating more in the distance. Some I felt were with me the entire time. Some fit every part of this list. 

I am thankful. In the midst of the most awe inspiring sight I got to be still in silence and enjoy what seemed was planned just for me on a beach alone in the middle of the Sea. 

A question remains... how does one pack this experience up and board a flight next Thursday?

Disneyland Paris

In each album I have posted on Facebook there are over a hundred that didn't make the cut to be included. I made quick decisions and posted what I liked best and kept moving. In each picture of those albums contains a window. A way for you to see what I've seen and for you to hopefully by the expression of joy on my face draw a some assured conclusions about how I am based on the self portrait. They each have a story, and I have the words tucked away in my heart and one day, perhaps day by day upon my return those words will be said... or perhaps they will remain as prized secrets and stories to be told to my grandchildren about who I was in 2009, what I saw, and how I had hoped and prayed for them even before the marriage to create them existed. 

In the 100 photos taken of Disney, there is a greater story to be told then just the experience of being in a magical place, where people young and old are united in their childlike wonder and enthusiasm... there is a story written in these pictures, and I have chosen just a few in hopes that you will understand why they mean almost more to me then any other group I have taken at this point in my trip... and why that last one is "The Picture" that defines this entire experience in one image. I will always associate these weeks, and this heart of growth on that expression in the midst of that day. So... here's just one of many things to share of the many pictures you've looked at on Facebook. 

Disneyland Paris

I made it to my final park. I'm a Disney enthusiast and while many do not love Disney the way I do, I'm happy that in the Stegmans, and Andrew Piper I have those who just understand. This picture begins the day, and marks the completion of my attendance to my last park. It was a great moment that I may have been giggling about for the entire morning in anticipation. Much like Christmas Morning, except this morning I got to open this experience with Mandy Stegman: amazing.

Mandy Stegman

Which leads me to Mandy. Seeing her in Paris was like seeing her anywhere else. It was insane and completely normal. Of course I was hanging out with her, of course we were in the land of all things magical. It was great and it was a joy to spend one day of 35 that I have planned and purposed on my own with her. The other joy was that I've been successful and so happy in my time away that I didn't need her to be a lifeline to home like I had orginally anticipated "Oh, so if I get lonely I've got three weeks before I see someone I love" was what I kept telling myself in preparation for my trip. I wanted to see Mandy, but I didn't "need" too- she was a bonus and I got to enjoy her as I was, and have the security of being relaxed and emotionally strong on my own. It was fantastic.

Pluto

We came upon a cluster of characters, and well I love characters. I got to cuddle and snuggle with Pluto and he put my head in his mouth and I just laughed. This picture is before the chaos of the day began, and there is something about looking at this picture that makes me recognize the freedom I felt in the day and the joy I had in being with Mandy and her parents. I was laughing. It was a great moment. It was before the best part happened. It was when I thought I couldn't ask for more then what I had. It was... me and Pluto and I was thinking "Oh my goodness, Lord... I am in Paris with PLUTO!"

Anna from Guest Relations

I met Anna after I realized that my wallet fell out of my pocket while on the Indiana Jones ride. Mandy, Jeni, and I quickly began the backtracking hunt, and general search through a very limited part of the park and made the necessary contacts to guest relations in the process. It was gone. We were told that they'd walk the ride at 6pm when it was being shut down and to go back at 6:30pm to see if it was found. It was time to take the necessary steps towards obtaining identification to either continue on my plans to Greece, or be sent home, so to do this I began the process of contacting the US Embassy, because my Passport was in my wallet, and I was set to leave for Santorini the next day. I was taken care of by Anna, who was able to guide me through these phonecalls and spent the time with me in the private office of the Guest Relations area. She is from Italy, so I was able to talk about my experience there- what my thoughts on her country were...what I was doing and what I thought. 

The Pirate Ship.

At one point Mandy and I went back to the Indiana Ride in hopes in riding it again we would see my wallet on the ground... I just think it was the control in my heart that could not let it go without seeing with my own eyes. We walked through the Pirates of the Caribean and went on the ride... and as we walked by the Pirate ship Mandy turned to me and asked if I wanted my picture. I said no, was starting to feel the weight of the day. She told me that I couldn't get all sad and not get a picture because I was going to find my wallet and tomorrow would wish I had documented my day in its glory. I gave in, handed off the camera and stood in front of the pirate ship and found a genuine smile and laugh. She captured this in a few pictures, but this was my favorite. In the midst of the heartache and anxiety, Mandy was able to help me find joy in my day.

My Trip... In One Photo

At 6:30pm we found out that the walk through of the ride did not produce my wallet. I knew what I had to do, and I knew who I needed to contact but the process was going to be challenging and overwhelming and so the tears were the release from a day of composure and hope. After a day of stressing at the park, we all left to go to dinner at Planet Hollywood which was located in the Disney Village. While at dinner Jeni's phone rang and after some language issues we were able to determine, Wallet... Found. As the details were coming slowly I asked if my Passport was in it, and it was confirmed. My face fell into my hands and I just cried. Tears. I couldn't believe it.

The part that matters is not that my wallet was found, and the only thing missing was 50euro, while that is amazing. It was more the emotional journey I took in the entire day and process of losing it, and because of that I will never wish the experience different. While in the office waiting for the Embassy to call back I prayed- and of course I prayed it'd be found, but I mostly prayed that whatever was to be that I could rest in knowing that I was safe, I was ok, and that the Lord had a plan. I kept thinking of a question I heard in a sermon and to explain the point would take too many words, but the end question was boldly, "Do you trust Him?" I knew deeply and truly that I did- even if it meant I didn't get to finish my time abroad in Greece. I knew that I was still His beloved, and I was able in my heart to give up all desire and control for wanting everything to go "my way" to simply experience knowing that He was more important then me. I still got the enjoy the goodness of fellowship with people I love, and I still smiled even in the midst of wanting to run away. If that's not Grace, then I don't know what is.

Yesterday in my contentment I knew how much I loved and trusted Him and wanted that more then I wanted my wallet to be found for my plans to continue. I didn't feel ready for home, but I would I knew that I could return and watch Him at work in that situation. I knew that I wanted Greece so bad, and was so close- and I've run this marathon for nearly a month and wanted to see it complete... but I trusted Him.... I wanted Him more then me. And after weeks of praying and thinking and experiencing such closeness in the silence I've had on my own, the experiences in churches as I've prayed quietly and thoughtfully to Him, and noticing the changes in my vision of self and His love... today I knew it was more then a sound bite, and it was more then a blog entry talking about my desire for the Lord to refine me, or my desire to be drawn and enveloped by Him... today was all of that hope, all of that truth, and all of that change I've sensed to remain in action. It was all of your prayers answered, and every hope for what this journey could be was realized... and while I celebrate that I have a wallet found- I would have known all these things to be true without it.

I'm sad I didn't get to spend the whole day at Disney, I did get to walk through those magical gates, and I did get my picture taken with Pluto, I laughed, I spent time with Mandy whom I love. There was a moment before the wallet was gone I sat on a ride with her in the dark and we held hands, I thought deeply and truly in my heart, that in my life I could not ask for anymore then I'd already been given. In the midst of losing the wallet, I still felt that to be true, and in the 8 hours I didn't have it and thought it was gone, I still knew that I had more waiting for me at home then I had hoped for in Greece. It was amazingly peaceful.

That last picture? The story it tells me? Is that despite the day, and the truth that my wallet was gone in that moment, I was able to still relax into myself and trust that the Lord was with me, and I was able to celebrate a day of His purpose. I was happy and content in chaos. Disneyland Paris? I will be back there at some point to complete what I began.

That day with Jesus? I don't have to visit. It's part of who I am, and when I forget, I have the best picture in the world to remind me of the celebration in all things, for He is perfect and I am His beloved.

Amen.

"Are You Going to Let Them In?"

Today is June 11. I am about to complete my three week tour of Italy (sad but grateful pause), and welcome in Paris for five days before the final leg of this amazing experience: Greece.

I have heard Jesus everyday. There has not been a day that has gone by that a sentence hasn't come to mind that I knew without question or doubt that it was the Savior. In the beginning I would literally stop walking, or stop in the middle of the task and just listen to it, and think, "Ok Lord... Where did that come from?". Now, I know better. Now I know deeply and truly that every offering of insight, or moment spoken as an answer is a gift, because I have prayed to hear Him speak... well more important then that, I have prayed that I would have ears that could hear.

Since arriving in Rome I have had access to the Internet, unlimited and in the comfort of my own room. Part of me rejoices in this, and the other part? Wishes I still had that barrier. Don't get me wrong, it was great being able to chat with friends on Facebook, and hang out with Mandy one night and then Tex the next on iChat (how I do love Apple products). It made the world seem smaller, closer together. It made me feel not quite so far away. It brought someone here. It brought me home in a similar way. The truth of the matter is that I just can't say that in the beginning, it was what I wanted.

It did however, make me feel a little lost. A little torn between one place and the next. I got off iChat with Tex on Tuesday night, and felt unsure. All the experiences I have had, all the memories I've made, all the thoughts I've thought, and all the feelings I've had have been completely my own. They have been contained but most of all controlled in this head and heart of mine. With the exception of a few emails home a week ago, I've been a fortress of overwhelming experience and emotion held captive in this personal world that I've not allowed anyone in. The moment came in St. Peter's Basilica. The moment of awareness came with the voice of reason that I know humbly was the Lord. The word was Pride. The awareness meant more then knowing what to call what I'd been doing, it was the question that followed, "Are you going to let them in?". I sat and thought. I thought and I prayed. I prayed and I got mad. Then I finally wasn't mad, I realized that while I may never have acknowledged any of the ways I'd been feeling- that those who knew me best knew that I was not acting like myself. When I would write I missed someone I knew that in some ways that was true, but it always felt empty. I knew that those I love most must have been aware that there was something happening and going on but were just waiting... for me to begin to speak, I just wondered how long they were going to wait... and my stubborn pride wanted to know how long I could hold it in.

I knew it was time to make the change, I just didn't want to. It started with something small, I made one phone call and left one voice mail message. I justified the expense of 99cents a minute with the fact, it would be worth more not if in the moment, but in the long run for both me and the friend I called. I didn't say much, but what I said was true. In the privacy, and in the distance I began to forget things that were true in relationships I hold most dear at home. (Ironically enough while writing this sentence, "Say" by John Mayer just came on the radio, now thats just funny). I know that gaining space and perspective from home in the midst of this time is a good thing- it allows distraction to fall away and focus and energy on this particular time at hand to become the central piece of attention. 

What do you say? What do I say to connect one really far away to me here? What do I say when there's so much that I think about in a day- that I was starting to lose my voice? What do you say that makes sense when you feel peacefully manic and all over the place? What do you say? What? And because I didn't know, I just stopped.

But... thanks to my time in St. Peter's and because I knew that the question was "Are you going to let them in?" Instead of praying for what to say, I prayed that the Lord would work in me to allow that to begin. The next morning I woke up to my 5:30am dream in which my phone rang. What I heard in that dream moved in my heart the entire day, and so finally upon returning to my room later that night I was ready. I was ready to talk. It was more then being ready, the desire to remain closed off was changing into wanting to be known... to be heard... and to believe that because I was being vulnerable didn't take away the significance of what I was thinking and learning- that sharing it was expanding it, as all part of my witness. It was part of my relationship with the Lord that beckons to be shared so that His work in me can be given praise and allow others to join me in the journey.

After some time iChatting with Tex, I finally had enough courage to start talking about somethings that mattered. I started talking about how I'm doing with taking care of myself and the tears began. Then I talked about some thoughts I had about a friend I used to have and the hurts that still linger there, the tears continued. I talked about awareness I felt in some areas that I felt inadequate. The tears ended there, because after a few hours of talking the conversation needed to be wrapped up. In the span of my emotional purge, he hadn't said much. I was was simply heard. We said goodbye, I had nothing more to say... what I had said was enough for that night.

I felt lost. I felt like what is the good in sharing when having those things in my head, I had been safe? I felt like I never should have spoken such random things, because I'm not upset or heartbroken here- quite the opposite: I feel content, peaceful, and whole. Perhaps it is finding that here, I have seen the truth about the life and relationships I maintain at home. The greatness of being known however difficult and vulnerable is that Tex knew I would be feeling lost and confused in that place, and true to the way he always has- he took his knowledge of me and his care into action, and he called right when enough time had passed from the ending of our conversation that the insecurity was a heavy blanket... in his call he removed the weight and assured me that he was glad I shared and to not regret it. To be known is scary, but when you are- you are opening yourself up to be loved the way we most desire- and in that moment for me, it was a phone call from across the ocean from my best friend telling me, that it mattered... and that I could and needed to rest there.

The Lord takes us often to places that we go kicking and screaming and other times we glad fully submit. I wanted to come here. I wanted to be away. I wanted to do 5 weeks solo, just to know I could do it. I wanted to be quiet and still. I wanted to move, walk, explore, and experience. I wanted to capture what I'd see in pictures. I have done those things, but with the exception of Facebook Albums, and a few blog entries- I have captured and contained this to myself. I have made choices and I have seen things that are personal, some private... and without knowing it I got lost in the itinerary and subsequently starting cutting people out of my life... I just didn't know it.

So friends and readers alike. I cut off and I cut away. I can't say that will change overnight, and I can't say what will happen in the next two weeks I remain out of the country. I can say however that I've seen the extreme, and I have been able to acknowledge that there has to be a place in the middle. I have opened up small windows to how I am- with anecdotes about the older man at Piazza Signoria telling me I was beautiful... I have discussed the pursuit of being refined... those are small windows from this castle of complexity and joy. There are doors, gardens, and great big rooms of awareness, hope, peace, knowledge, change, intimacy, and security.

While there are so many things to say and share about this time, I know deeply and truly that every prayer being raised at home, is being answered in big and small ways. I know that things that control my heart at home are weaker. I know that the places I have felt insecure are not true. I have an awareness of self that coincides more with the way that the Father sees me. I have known I've deserved better in some situations, and in those places my heart now believes it too. I have sought some answers and gotten responses to questions I hadn't even asked yet. I feel like me. I feel like I don't recognize myself in pictures in some ways, and when I am getting ready for the day I just study my eyes in the mirror as I brush my teeth. I can't tell you the last time I ever really looked at myself, and made eye contact and just looked... and studied the colors. I have had great conversations in random places... I've met who I've adopted as my Italian Grandfather, last week my Italian Father, and then the other day my Italian spouse as I was proposed to (I politely declined and blushed).I have been frustrated in moments. I have been sad in others. I have been so still and quiet in my thought while awake that it felt like a peaceful dream.

We all play roles. We all have token things about us that are lived out in our relationships. The listener, the sister, the best friend, the mother, the talker, the party planner, the shy guy, the class clown, the insecure awkward one, the beauty, the athlete, the perfectionist, the best dressed, the encourager, the prayer, the articulate one, life's cheerleader, the gossip, the jealous, the drama queen, the servant, the creative one, the opinionated one, the depressed one, the phony one, the lover, the hater.... there are so many characteristics of each role I could list all day.

I in a way I had grown to resent the role I play in some relationships because it didn't facilitate what I wanted. My selfish nature didn't want the outcome of a particular role and that led to hurt and opposition. I did not know this until the only role I had to play, was just me. Me as a daughter of the King just wanting to be with Him as His beloved. The roles I play at home all fell away, and what remained was the Me I have always been, with the desire I ache for more then the outcome of my selfish desires... it has been as His daughter. His beloved. His child. His creation. His beautiful one. After three weeks, I see that, I feel it, and I believe it. I know that I can seek Him and be used for His purpose, and celebrate that submission for His plans for me and not resent that I'm not getting what I think it best for me. I can celebrate better the roles I play, varying from relationship and situation... because I have finally gotten a glimpse of the bigger picture.

He has chosen me, and I have chosen Him.

I want to return that way. Just me.



"I don't know this could break my heart or save me
Nothing's real until you let go completely
So here I go with all my thoughts that I've been saving
So here I go with all my fear weighing on me....

Three *weeks and I am still sober
Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers
But I know its never really over

I don't know I could crash and burn but maybe...
At the end of this road I might catch a glimpse of me,

So I won't worry about my timing,
I wanna get it right
No comparing, no second guessing
No, not this time...

Three *weeks and I am still breathing
Been a long road since those hands left my tears in
But I know its never really over

Three *weeks and I'm standing here
Three *weeks and I'm getting better
Three *weeks and I'm still... here

Three *weeks and its harder now
Three *weeks I've lived here without you now
Three *weeks... I....
Three *weeks I'm still breathing
Three *weeks and I still remember it
Three *weeks and I wake up
Three *weeks and I'm still sober
Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers..."

*weeks are months in the original song "Sober" By Kelly Clarkson