holy holes.

I was challenged today by the wise and inspiring Brennan Manning to do some self-reflection, to consider who I really am, beyond the facade, beyond the smooth, shiny labels that I often hide behind. Young Life-er. Adventure-seeker. Traveler. Friends watcher. Ex pat. Christian. UGA grad. Athens native. Spanish lover. Reader. Writer. Friend. Daughter. 

In his book The Furious Longing of God, Manning pours out his heart in desperate, reckless honesty,

"I'm a bundle of paradoxes and contradictions. I believe in God with all my heart. And in any given day when I see a nine-year-old girl raped and murdered by a sex maniac or a four-year-old boy slaughtered by a drunken driver, I wonder if God even exists. I love and I hate. I feel better about feeling good. I feel guilty if I don't feel guilty. I'm wide open, I'm locked in. I'm trusting and suspicious. I'm honest and I still play games...and that's just some of the rest of Brennan."

  

In the midst of his deep, dark confessions, he writes, "There is the you that people see and then there is the rest of you."  I stopped after that sentence, and I decided to use my morning to do some searching, searching for the "rest of me." And I discovered that there is a whole lot inside, so many desires, hopes, dreams, fears, grief, joy, pain, and overwhelming, aching love that all work together to make up the woman that I am. People. Experiences. Places. Struggles. Weaknesses. Bravery. Knee-bending grace. It's all me. Every little puzzle piece. Every relationship, past and present. Every moment, however brief. Every place and experience and emotion.

And I'll be the first to admit that it's not all pretty. There's a lot of hurt there. A lot of fear, anxiety, failure, stress, sadness. A lot of contradictions, too. But it all adds up to the rest of me.

the rest of me...

struggles with faith, with the belief that God exists.  

wants to belong.

misses home, everything and everyone familiar.  

strives too hard.

wants to be with people.
loves to be alone. 
too often compares myself to others.
overindulges in all things sugar.
sometimes feels guilty.
laughs a whole lot.  
hopes to fall in love. 
thrives in nature.
is a hunter of beauty.
tries to live in the light.
is sometimes seduced by the darkness.
over-analyzes. 
loves people. 
is plagued by doubt.
fears failure. 
craves authenticity.  
sinks in grace.   
escapes in books. 
seeks true friendships. 
lives in freedom.
asks questions.
is desperate for Jesus. 
grieves a great loss.  
is always learning.
fears time. 
is nostalgic.  
values raw honesty. 
longs for a life of adventure. 
searches for truth.  
wants to feel everything. 
strives to be brave.  

And that's only a small part of my story.

I am a sinner, saved by grace.

That's a larger and more important story.

Only God, in his furious longing, knows the whole of it. 

He covers us. He longs for our presence. He responds in tenderness.

And He fills our holy holes. 

"Jesus came not only for those who skip morning meditations, but also for real sinners, thieves, adulterers, and terrorists, for those caught up in squalid choices and failed dreams. Those of us scarred by sin are called to closeness with Him around the banquet table. The men and women who are truly filled with light are those who gaze deeply into the darkness of their own imperfect existence."

wyld life video: we believe in kids.

I think sometimes we don't give kids enough credit.

We assume they're too young.
Too immature.
Too self-focused.
Too unconcerned.
Too "underdeveloped."

I often get caught up in thinking that kids, or "adolescents," live life on the surface, skimming the very tips of various issues, but unable and unwilling to go deeper. We see their smiles, hear their laughter, listen to their big dreams. And we simply take them at face-value.

They're kids, after all. Middle Schoolers. High Schoolers. These are supposed to be the "best years of their life." They don't have a care in the world. They don't ponder the bigger aspects or issues of life. Why should they? They're "just kids."

It's all so simple. They're all so simple.

 

But I started wondering what would happen if we didn't assume. What would happen if we dug a little deeper? What would happen if we didn't automatically presume that they didn't understand? What if we finally took a deep breath, overcame our assumptions, and actually asked them?

Last week at WyldLife Club, that's exactly what we did. We asked kids. We asked them what they thought of the God of the universe. We asked them what they wanted to learn. We asked them what questions they had. About anything. About everything. We asked them what they wanted God to be in their lives, if they wanted Him in their lives at all.

And this is what they came up with.

Click Here--We Believe in Kids

home?

home. 

I've been struggling with this concept lately. {home} Such a simple word, one that we often throw around in casual conversation without giving much thought to its true implications. But after this past month, I've been forced to grapple with it, to wrestle with it, and to desperately long for it.

After almost four months in Costa Rica, I finally traveled back to my sweet Athens, the place that I've always called home, the place that has grown and shaped me more than anywhere else in the world. But after a short two weeks, it was time to leave again...then two weeks in Florida for Young Life training....then back to Costa Rica, to a new apartment on an unfamiliar side of the city. Honestly, when I got on the plane to San Jose on Sunday, I really wasn't sure whether I was going home or leaving home.

In reality, at this stage in my life, I don't really feel as if I have a home. I love Costa Rica, but I am an outsider here. A foreigner. A gringa. My hair and skin are too light. My Spanish is too slow. My dancing is too rigid (there's no hope for me in that area, I'm afraid). But as I traveled to Athens over Christmas break, I was hit in the face by the hard reality that my life isn't there anymore. To my utter horror, it seemed as though life had actually continued without me (?!). I know that I am missed by my family and friends there (at least, I think I am...), but life and time have moved on, as they have a tendency to do, and I am no longer a physical part of it.

I can't really say whether this realization has been depressing or freeing, perhaps it has been both, but I can say that it has forced me to raise a soul-wrenching question that still makes my eyes to bristle with tears...where, then, is home? Is home in Athens, where my family and friends live? Is home in the house with the tall ceilings and big windows where I spent most of my childhood? Could home be at the beautiful Lake Rabun, where my most cherished memories have been made? Or is home in Costa Rica, in this new apartment in this unfamiliar city that I love?

As humans, we have this natural, desperate desire to belong. If you really think about it, I believe that this desire actually drives most of our behaviors, beginning in our early years. We are naturally driven to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. to be accepted. to be included. to be loved. And it is this same drive within us that makes us want to have a home, a safe space, a place that we belong to and that belongs to us. Therefore, home, I think, signifies something much greater, much more profound, than a house or city or even a country; it signifies the realization of our deepest, most precious human desire to belong.

I think this is why it is so incredibly difficult when we feel as though we've lost this physical "home," this comforting place of love and belonging and inclusion and acceptance. That's the tension, the loss, and the grief that I've been living in during this past month. But as I sat down at my kitchen table today, sipping my overly-large cup of coffee and basking in the glorious sunlight that shone through my open window, I began to recognize what a rare gift it is to not belong to a physical place, to be a "nomad" of sorts. You see, I have the opportunity to fully experience something that not everyone gets the chance to really see or deeply feel: the reality that we don't ultimately belong to this world. We were made for something else, something greater. Home for us is not a physical place on earth; our true home is in Heaven, with our Father. And I say this confidently for the simple reason that Jesus Himself did not have a home in this world..."Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head" {Matthew 8:20}.

 I have the joy and the privilege of experiencing this gift firsthand, to feel the tension of not fully belonging anywhere. And even though it doesn't always feel like a gift, and even though the feelings of pain and loss and hurt are still present, I believe we can rejoice in the fact that we do not find home in this world, for He has created for us a Home in Himself. So, let us go and "make our home with Him" {John 14:23}. 

International Staff at New Staff Training!

Northern Ireland, Cuba, Dominican Republic, London, Scotland, Puerto Rico, China, Germany, Belgium, Singapore....and, of course, Costa Rica. Thankful for this wonderful group of friends that I met during my two weeks of Young Life training in St. Augustine, and I'm excited to see what the Lord is going to do in their lives as they spend these next few years all over the world. Please join me in prayer for these precious friends, as they embark on their various adventures, answering the call on their hearts to impact His kingdom in all corners of the world.

And now? Back to Costa Rica!

~Pura Vida

heading home for Christmas.

It's my last night living with this wonderful family, and I can't express how thankful I am for them! These past few months have been a whrilwind, a whole lot of change in a short amount of time. I've had a lot of ups and downs, and I've certainly had days (even weeks!) that I really just wanted to go back to Athens, back to my family, but, overall, I have absolutely loved it. And this family right here has been a huge part of that...these people have loved me so well: they've made me part of their family, welcomed me with open arms and unlimited love, and I've been so blessed by them.

Tomorrow, I head back to the US of A, and while I'm so excited to see my family and friends (and eat lots and lots of chicken salad and real cheese), I'm so sad to leave this family. When I return after Young Life training in January, I'll be living on the other side of the city (about 30-45 min. away, not including traffic), in an apartment with a new roommate named Kelsey, who works full time at a local church. I moved my things over to the apartment yesterday, and, again, while I'm excited to have my own space and cook my own food (mas o menos) and start a new chapter of life doing full-time ministry, it's hard to leave Costa Rica knowing that I won't be coming back to this house, to this neighborhood and to these people whom I have grown to know and love so deeply.

However, I am SO grateful to know that I have a family here, a group of people who love and care for me, who will be there for me whenever I need them, who will share life with me, who will stick with me through the ups and the downs and the culture shock and the language learning, and who will love me throughout my time in Costa Rica, however long that may be. These people are an extraordinary blessing and a sweet answer to prayer, and I can't imagine Costa Rica without them!

Los amo, y los voy a extranar muchisimo!

Thank you for your prayers for community, comfort, and love; the Lord has blessed me beyond belief.

graduation day!

Graduation from El Instituto de Lengua Espanola, spent with some of my favorite people!

advent: a season of expectation. GOD WITH US.

I listened to this podcast just this morning, and it brought my spirit a lot of joy, a lot of peace, and a lot of conviction. It's a sweet reminder of what this season of advent signifies, a reminder of the expectation and joyful anticipation of this too-often-stressful season. It reminds us not only of what advent represents for all of us living 2000 years after Jesus, but also what it signified to the ancient Jews, who for thousands of years endured horrendous persecution, slavery, exile, desert wandering, and endless battles, waiting and praying and hoping and crying out for the long-promised Savior to come and deliver them, to provide them with Hope, to bring light into the darkness.

So, take a short break from whatever your doing, find a quiet place, and take 45 minutes or so to listen to Tim Keller talk about Christmas. You won't regret it.

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN to Timothy Keller's God With Us (click the link, then go to podcast #29 to listen)

                                

"Christmas is about getting near to Jesus, getting close to Him. What's keeping you from drawing near to Him? Whatever it costs to get close to Jesus, it's nothing compared to what it cost Him to be with you"-Tim Keller