India: Part 2

Ok as promised, more blog posts about India!

One of the things that really stood out to me during my time in India was our interaction with kids there. I mentioned it in one of the picture comments on Facebook, but I'd like to tell you more about who these kids are and why we were spending time with them.

*Disclaimer: This blog post is sad but true, it contains some slightly graphic descriptions of persecution in India. Just wanted you to be prepared.

There's a region of India called Orissa, which is near the eastern coast of the country. I don't know much about this part of the country (I don't know much about any parts of India, let's be honest). But this section of India is mostly Hindu, though they did have a small concentration of Christians.

From what I learned, there were 2 main Hindu priests that worked in this area. One of them was the head guy and the other was jealous, so the lower priest murdered the other one in hopes of being elevated to head priest. He needed a scapegoat, and since tensions were already high between Hindus and Christians, he blamed the Christians for murdering the Hindu priest. This sent the entire region into a chaotic frenzy. People started persecuting Christians everywhere. They set fire to villages and churches, chased Christians from their homes, and murdered and raped the ones that didn't get away fast enough. 

I have no idea how many people were killed or how many families were displaced, but I know it was in the hundreds, maybe even the thousands. Many of the survivors fled into the jungles where they stayed alive by drinking out of puddles and eating whatever food they could find. Many of the survivors living in these awful conditions, unfortunately, were small children. These children had been through more than I could ever imagine. These children (many of whom I met) had seen their parents murdered, their houses burned. One little boy saw his mother raped. One little girl saw her parents cut into pieces in front of her. These kids were traumatized, terrified, and often incredibly ill from their poor living conditions in the jungles. It was horrendous. 

These kids were brought to the attention of the ministry we visited in India. Their main focus had always been church planting and evangelizing, never orphanages, but they realized they couldn't let these kids continue to suffer. After an overwhelming amount of work to get the right paperwork and permits, they started a home and a school for these persecuted children. It started with about 20 but now there are around 50 kids that live together, go to school together, and play together. 

I've never met such an incredible group of children before. They blew me away from the moment I met them. They're not only sweet and smart, they're incredibly well-behaved and fun. They're like a giant family; it's an amazing sight to see. These kids, who just a few years ago were living in poverty, many as orphans, are now healthy, happy, smiling little people who love the Lord with their whole hearts. 

Just like O, these kids humbled me beyond belief.  We spent some time with them on Monday afternoon and got to know them and play with them. One of the things that was so humbling was how much these kids loved us. I didn't speak their language, I didn't know their games, I didn't do anything for them but play and hug them and smile, but they still showed me so much love.  They were still so excited to see us. They were so happy we were there. It was incredible to know that our time and attention meant that much to them.

The next day was my birthday and we had planned to go over and spend more time with the kids. We showed up in the afternoon to a fully decorated classroom, complete with balloons, streamers, and a Happy Birthday Kelsey Didi sign (Didi means big sister). The kids gave us (there were 2 others whose birthdays were that week) flowers, made us cards and a cake, and sang Happy Birthday to us. They all were so excited to hug me and tell me Happy Birthday for the rest of the day. It was the sweetest thing I've ever experienced. 

As I stood there in front of these kids I thought about what they'd gone through, what they'd seen. Their short lives have been full of more heartache and terrors than I've even dreamed of in my 27 years. By the world's standards, they have no reason to be happy, no reason to feel joy. I was once again overwhelmed with the thought of "Who am I to deserve this?" I'm no one. I came here to help strategize a new church planting movement in India, I came here to serve where I could, to show love to these kids. But instead, I'm being served, I'm being loved, I'm being shown what the love of Christ really looks like. I'm getting to see how the hope of the Lord can truly change a person's heart, can help a child overcome any sort of trauma or hardship they've endured. It would be so easy to be angry at the Lord, to be angry at others, because of what they've gone through. It would be easy to shut down, to feel like a victim and to lash out. But they don't. Their love for the Lord is apparent in everything they do, from the way they worship Him to the way they play together. They are incredibly strong, incredibly loving, and incredibly joyful in Christ. 

So once again, I was overwhelmed with humility. I'm no one. I've done nothing special in my life. I don't deserve anything I have. But these kids, just like O, just like so many others in India, helped me to better understand Christ's love for me. I don't deserve it, I didn't earn it. I should be serving and loving these kids, I should be going out of my way to serve O, but instead they served and loved me. I should be serving the Lord, loving Him, but instead He loves me, He gives me amazing gifts I don't deserve. I'm no one, but He loves me more than I can fathom anyway. It's such an incredible thing, to see the love of Christ through other people. I'm so thankful I was able to experience it in so many ways in India. 

These kids showed me that it's never hopeless, no future is ever bleak. I know these kids still deal with a lot and I'm sure most of them will have to deal with what they've seen and experienced for the rest of their lives, but you'd never know it by spending a day with them. They showed me that your circumstances have no bearing on your love for Christ. Being a Christ follower doesn't mean things will go easily for you. Oftentimes, especially in places like this, it means things will be harder for you. A lot harder. That fact, that idea that Christ loves us no matter what our circumstances are, they get that. They know it. They've lived it. And they've come out on the other end more full than any of us. They're so full of joy, so full of hope and love for the Lord, love for each other, and love for strange Americans that they barely know. These kids get it. And I'm so thankful I was able to learn that from them. 

India: Part 1

I'm not sure how many parts there will be to my India blog post series. Maybe 1, maybe 15. It'll be a surprise to all of us. But I thought I'd try to break my trip into different parts so as not to overwhelm you with a 12 page blog post about my entire trip. So here goes part 1...

The 10 days I spent in India were probably the 10 most humbling days of my entire life. I've never felt more unworthy (or more eternally grateful) of the love and service of others as I did over there. I have about 1200 reasons as to why, but I'll start with this one. Then maybe the later editions of India blog post can include the others.

My trip started out kind of rough, as most of you know British Airways lost my luggage on my flight over and it was incredibly difficult to get back. They kept saying it was in cities it wasn't in, they told me it was being delivered and then later say I'd have to pick it up in person, they told me they had it when they didn't have it. It was a mess.

While I've never been overly attached to any of my stuff (excluding a few deer heads and lawn gnomes, that is) I discovered I am extremely attached to clean underwear and my hair dryer. India, as it turns out, is an extremely hot and humid place. I also learned that India is one of the worst places to not have any clean clothes because you sweat through like, 3 shirts a day (unless you only have 2 shirts for 5 days in which case you sweat through the same 2 shirts every day). Being gross and feeling insanely unattractive is really humbling in and of itself. It's an odd feeling not even having the comforts of clean clothes to make you feel secure as a person. But it was really awesome to see how God used this situation to teach me about the love and sacrifice of other people.

The people in India are incredibly and amazingly kind. I've never been treated better in my entire life. People were constantly opening doors, carrying our bags, helping us in and out of cars; it was kind of bizarre, to be honest. I'm used to people being kind and friendly, but not like this. For the first 3 days I wondered if they had mistaken me for someone who was much more wealthy or much more famous because there's no way they treat regular people like that. Turns out they do, in fact, treat regular people like that.

The staff of the hotel we stayed at in Bilaspur (our first city on the trip) was insanely amazing. It's the Courtyard Marriott in Bilaspur, by the way, in case you wanted to know. From the moment I got there they did everything they could to get my luggage back to me. They called British Airways all night trying to get someone on the phone. They offered to send someone to Raipur to pick it up (it ended up not being in Raipur so that didn't work out). They worked on it constantly for days. They even got me and 2 others in our group a cake because they noticed on our passports that our birthdays were that week! I realize this is part of their job and it's a newer hotel so they want to provide good service, but what they did was certainly more than I ever expected.

Us with the amazing staff of the Bilaspur Marriott

Not only did the hotel work on getting my baggage back, our hosts did as well. There were 2 different guys that were our hosts/guides during our trip that did everything they could to get my bags back. They made phone calls, called in favors, made complicated travel plans, all so I could get my luggage. When it still wasn't back after 4 days, without me ever asking or mentioning it, our host's wife and daughter went out and bought me new underwear and gave me a whole bag of clothes to borrow until I got my bag. They even washed the clothes I'd been wearing. It was incredibly sweet and thoughtful and meant to so much to me that they would go out of their way to do all that just for me.

This one's the kicker. There's an evangelist named O that works with our host's ministry. He's a young guy, probably in his late 20s/early 30s, with a wife and a little boy. O works in a village near Bilaspur telling others about Christ. The last pastor who worked in this village was murdered by extremists who didn't want Christians there. O knows this (and even has to live in a different village for the safety of his family) but willingly chooses to go back to this same village, day after day, knowing his life is in danger, knowing he'll be persecuted, to spread the love of Christ.

On Sunday morning, when my luggage had already been missing for 4 days, we had to leave Bilaspur and head 14 hours north to a new city, Damoh. We had been hoping they'd send my luggage up to Damoh but that morning we found out the luggage had already been sent to Raipur (2 hours south of where we already were). I had no idea what to do or how I would get it back. I told our host and he started making phone calls. They ended up having a guy they knew who worked for another airline claim the bag and then said they'd send someone to get it. In comes O. This guy drove 2 hours to pick up my bag, 2 hours back, then took the overnight train up to Damoh so I could have my luggage the next morning. Bags are sometimes stolen on trains, so he stayed awake with my luggage all night to be sure nothing happened to it.

Who does that!?

Seriously. Who does that? Who spends 24 sleepless hours traveling so a stranger they don't know can get their luggage back? Would you do that? I probably wouldn't, to be honest. Not without complaining and resenting them the entire time. But O didn't even make a big deal out of it. I thanked him as much as I possibly could considering I don't speak Hindi and he didn't speak English, but he waved it off like it was no big deal. He only said "It's my privilege to do this, I'm happy to be able to serve you." He actually said that. That it was his privilege to travel for 24 hours and not sleep all night to bring my bag back to me.

I've never been so blown away by someone else's desire and ability to serve so wholeheartedly. And I felt so incredibly unworthy. This guy is a hero. He faces persecution and danger daily in the name of the Lord. He works in a village that is known for killing Christians. He has brought dozens of unreached people to Christ. He has dedicated his life to serving God no matter what happens to him and his family. And this guy, this amazing guy who does more for the cause of Christ in a week than I've done in 27 years, this guy spent 24 hours awake, in cars, airports, and trains, just so I could have my luggage back.

This one needs no caption.

O showed me the love of Christ in such a real, incredible way. He showed me true humility, what it means to love others more than yourself, to put others above yourself, and to serve the way that Christ did. I felt so humble, so unworthy of everyone's attention and efforts. Who am I that all these people would be so kind to me? That all these people would go so far out of their way for me? Don't they know that I'm absolutely no one of any importance? I'm not even one of the ministry's financial supporters! I have nothing to give back. I can't even thank them in their own language. I realized this is what it's like to have Christ's love. To know that you've never done anything to deserve it, that you never will earn it, you'll never be able to thank Him enough. You just have to accept it, be ok with how unjust it is, and learn to live in humility and in awe of Jesus.

I can never thank everyone for how wonderful they were to me during my time in India, and there is absolutely no way I can even begin to thank O for all that he did, for how far out of his way he went to serve me. But there is one thing I can do; I can pray for him. This is how I've decided to attempt to repay O for all he did for me, for his beautiful servant's heart, and for his dedication to the Lord. I'm going to pray for safety and protection for him and his family, I'm going to pray for fruitful and productive ministries, and I'm going to pray for blessings beyond belief for him. Will you pray with me? I'm not asking you to pray for him every day or for the next 3 years, but just right now, while you're reading this, ask God to bless him, to protect his family, and to do incredible things in his life and through it.

If 5,000 people pray for him I think I'll be about half way to being even with him.

Uncomfortable Grace

You know how, during the whole wandering in the desert bit, the Israelites kept forgetting how awesome God was? They kept forgetting how he brought them out of Egypt, the amazing, miraculous works he performed, the way he constantly led and provided for them. It was like every week and a half they'd forget everything that happened and freak out and start sacrificing their favorite earrings to make livestock gods out of shiny metals. I don't know if religious amnesia is a thing, but if it is they had it. Sometimes I read Exodus and all those other Old Testament books about the misadventures of the Israelite nation and I think to myself, "Seriously guys? God just parted some waters and you walked through. Shouldn't that be enough to keep your focus for at least a few years?!" But it wasn't. And despite my annoyed judgment toward their ridiculousness, I've realized lately that I too, suffer from a pretty severe case of religious amnesia (which was a terrible conclusion to come to because I really enjoy sitting in my ivory throne of righteousness, eating my donuts and watching The Office and judging the insanely asinine life choices that others make. But it's much harder to do that when you realize you make those same life choices. Not impossible, but harder…)

As many of you know (because I quite often broadcast my panic attacks on Facebook), I've been in some pretty stressful predicaments as of late. The major ones were the fact that the IRS is trying to make sure I never rise above the poverty line (mission accomplished IRS, you get a gold star) and the other was the whole "I may or may not be homeless at the end of May" deal. Both of these things sent me into a downward spiral of panic, fear, more panic, utter despair, an overwhelming desire to give up on life, and then an even stronger overwhelming desire to get 8 more pugs and wind up on Animal Hoarders (I still haven't ruled out that last one).

The IRS business is pretty self-explanatory. They made me give them a solid $3000 more than I really wanted to. I don't think I need to expound on why that was upsetting and stressful. The housing situation is slightly more complicated. My roommate is moving when our lease is up at the end of May, meaning I needed to find an affordable apartment on my own. Turns out, living alone is crazy expensive. I had a super hard time finding an affordable apartment where I didn't feel like I might get stabbed every time I walked out my front door (which, surprisingly enough, was mild to moderately important to me). I finally found a great, affordable apartment in a neighborhood that didn't make me feel like I was on an episode of Law and Order: SVU, but apparently lots of other people have the same criteria I do when it comes to apartment hunting (cheap and not murder-y), so there were zero openings in the only apartment complex I loved.

They told me there was a 1 week period at the beginning of April where they'd get notices of who was moving out and told me to call back then. Well I did call back. I called them back hard. I called twice a day for about 8 days in a row (annoying or refreshingly persistent? We'll never know). They had nothing available. Around Thursday of that week I really started to panic. If nothing opened up, because of the time lines of when I had to be out of my apartment and when their apartments would be available, I was going to be effectively homeless starting May 23. Yes I have people I could stay with, I could put my stuff in a storage unit and try again next month, I could live out of the backseat of my car, I could live out the lyrics of Reba McEntire's "Fancy." But believe it or not, none of those options were my first choice. It seemed so stressful and so much more difficult (I want you to know that I recognize how whiny that sounds. I'm aware and I don't care), I really wanted the stress of not knowing where I was going to live to be gone.

So Thursday came and went. Nothing opened up. They said that any notices they would get should be in by Friday, but possibly Monday at the absolute latest. So my chances were dwindling and the time crunch panic was growing. I had been praying about it for weeks, I had other people praying about it, but I still thought that God was forgetting about me, that he wasn't helping me, that he was making things difficult for me. It may sound silly because I realize other people have much more significant, life-altering issues than this.  I know my life wasn't in danger; nothing permanently damaging was going to happen to me. I know that the worst case scenario wasn't that bad. I know all that. But it didn't make it any less stressful or anxiety-inducing at the time. I can honestly say that by Thursday night I was in full-blown panic mode. For whatever reason, I was really going crazy about this. I was panicking, I was crying, I was super negative about everything. I couldn't see any positives, any silver lining, all I could see was what I didn't want to happen. All I could see was the worst case scenarios I'd created in my head (some of which were wildly impossible but also fairly entertaining).

But in the midst of my panic stricken freak out, God used someone else to remind me of his truth. In 1 Samuel 23 Saul is in the middle of his attempts to hunt down and kill David. David had been running for a while at this point. He had been running and hiding and fighting and running some more. He was scared and exhausted and unsure of his future, unsure of what God was doing. At this turbulent, uncertain time God sent Jonathan to him. Jonathan was his best friend, his hetero-lifemate, if you will, and in 1 Samuel 23:16 it says that Jonathan went to David and "helped him find strength in God."

As we all know, David is mentioned more than once as a man after God's own heart. He's one of the most turned-to biblical characters when it comes to looking at what a true relationship with God should be. David knew God. Well. He loved him. But during this time of his life, David needed help. He needed someone else to point him in the right direction, to re-focus him, to remind him of God's truth and love and faithfulness. He needed Jonathan to help him find strength in God. And in my (much less traumatic, much more first world problem-y) situation, God did the same.

As I complained and cried and panicked, my friend kept reminding me that it was ok. That it was going to be ok. That God wasn't forgetting about me, that he wasn't ignoring me, that he wasn't punishing me for some made up sin I'd committed a month ago (yes sometimes that's how my mind works. And you wonder why I have anxiety). He reminded me that God loved me more than I could fathom, that his timing and his plans are perfect, even when we don't understand them. He told me it was ok that I was scared and that I didn't necessarily like God's timing, but that I needed to try to accept it and trust that he knows what he's doing. He helped me realize I needed to give up my false sense of control and let God work, whatever that meant for my life. Just like Jonathan, he helped me find strength in God when I needed it most.

Thanks to the Jonathan-esque encouragement of my friend, I calmed down. I thought about it and prayed about it and realized that whatever God did would be ok. I gave control over to him. But I also decided I would start praying very specifically about what I wanted to happen. Instead of just praying for "all the apartment stuff to work out" I prayed for the specific type of apartment I wanted to become available before Monday. I prayed that Thursday night and all day Friday. Friday morning I sent out a prayer request to all of my supporters asking that they pray for the situation, too.

At 4:45 pm on Friday afternoon I got a phone call telling me the exact apartment I wanted had opened up.

Less than 24 hours after my friend re-focused me, less than 24 hours after I started praying specifically, and less than 24 hours after I gave control over to God, I got an apartment.

God is so good. And I don't mean that he's good because I got what I wanted. That's really awesome and I'm so thankful for his kindness and his timing and his direct answer to what I asked. Those are all reasons to say he's good, sure. But that's not all it is. He's good because he makes us uncomfortable.  He makes us wait. He makes us remember how awesome he is. God has done SO many things in my life over the past 6 months. Amazing, difficult, messy, indescribably wonderful things. He taught me so much. He showed me so much. He changed my heart and my focus and my motivation. He transformed me. But when push came to shove and stuff got difficult, I ran as fast as I could to throw my earrings into the livestock mold with everyone else. I lost faith, I lost hope, I forgot who God was, I forgot what I'd learned. I had a pretty severe case of religious amnesia.

But God doesn't let me stay that way. He loves me too much to allow me to forget what he's done, to let me move too far away from him. If I had gotten the apartment I wanted right away, if I hadn't had to pay half my savings over to the IRS, if I had gotten everything I wanted exactly when I wanted it, then I wouldn't have recognized God's hand in it. I might've thanked him for letting it be so easy, but I wouldn't have cried out to him, I wouldn't have had the chance to be strengthened by a friend, I wouldn't have realized how awesome he is, how perfect his timing is, how incredibly mind-blowing it is when he directly and powerfully answers my prayers. God loves me enough to challenge me. He stretches us to remind us that he's good, that he's there, that he loves us and he's faithful.

Paul David Tripp calls it "uncomfortable grace." And that's exactly what it is. God's blessings and grace aren't just poured out in ways we like. Yes, God giving you a new job or healing a friend or working a tough situation out, those are all blessings. But so is being stretched, being broken, going through hard circumstances and difficult situations and uncertainties. Those are all blessings. That's God's grace, too. He loves us too much to let us stay where we are, to let us be complacent and unchallenged and slip farther away from him without realizing it. He loves us enough to make us uncomfortable. And while I hate it and fight against it and whine about it while it's happening, there is nothing sweeter than looking back on a situation and seeing exactly how God was moving in it, how he worked through it, what he taught you. God's here. He's always here. Always working. Always moving. Always changing us and maturing us and growing us. And I'm learning to be very thankful for that awful, painful, uncomfortable grace that God loves me enough to show me. I'm also very thankful I don't have to live out "Fancy"...

Blissfully Unhappy

Being happy is overrated.

You may think this sounds like the ramblings of a cynical, embittered spinster (can you be a spinster at 26? I'd like to try) who has surrendered herself to the overwhelming misery and loneliness that life has dealt. While one of my goals in life is, in fact, to be called a spinster (I think it's a really fun word) and I may be more cynical than some (on the Muppet scale, I'd say I'm somewhere between Kermit the Frog and the angry, old theater guys) I promise that's not what's about to happen. So relax. This will be fine.

The last couple of months have (for obvious reasons) been weird. I've felt angry, hurt, sad, awkward, embarrassed, furious, confused, and uncomfortable. But not really happy. I've always operated under the assumption that in order for me to be happy things had to be going well in my life. I was constantly striving to make all the pieces of my life come together so I could be happy. Then once I was, I was anxiously waiting for the one bad thing to happen that would ruin my wonderful bubble of happiness. So my entire life has basically consisted of me waiting to be happy then being afraid my happiness would be taken away. I felt like Smeagol with the Ring, constantly chasing the one thing I thought would make everything perfect (I've found that everything necessary to know in life can be traced back to Lord of the Rings). Happiness was sort of like the ultimate goal of my life (that and joining the Norwegian curling team. Have you seen these guys?! I need these pants).

But over the last 2 months I realized something. Happiness is totally and completely overrated. I haven't been very happy the last few months, but I have been introspective and thoughtful and humbled. I've been teachable and vulnerable and hungry for God's word (almost as hungry as I've been for donuts...almost). Part way through the last few weeks I discovered I kind of like being like this. I'm not happy, but I'm learning. I'm growing. I'm becoming more like the person I'd always hoped I'd be (a mix between Marshall, the inventor of Pajama Jeans and Liz Lemon). I've learned more over the past 8 weeks than I'd learned in the past 8 years. I've learned more about who I am, who God is, more about people (which has been both good and bad), and life as a whole. I've learned about trust and faith, patience, acceptance, forgiveness, humility and love. And it's been kind of awesome.

I've been reading the book Jesus Feminist by Sarah Bessey (don't worry, I won't bring up the whole "Jesus thought women were people too" discussion....not yet...) and I've learned so many awesome things from it, but one of my favorite lines is a quote she got from Jonathan Martin's book Prototype.  While his context isn't the same as mine, I feel like the sentiment is the same. He says, "Far from being a punishment, judgment, or a curse, the wilderness is a gift. It's where we can experience the primal delight of being fully known and delighted in by God." I'd say the "wilderness" is an accurate description of where I've been over the last 2 months. And I'm starting to realize Martin's right. For a long time I wondered what I'd done to deserve this, what I was being punished for, what was wrong with me (I know what you're thinking: clearly nothing, as I'm obviously perfect. I know, we all question scientifically proven facts [like my awesomeness] in dark times). While I don't believe God purposefully causes people pain, I do believe he's taken this dark, painful period of my life and turned it into a gift. A wonderful, messy, enlightening, beautifully transformative gift.

In another part of her book, Bessey likens emotional pain to childbirth. She says that the pain you experience during childbirth is related to your own fears and resistance to the pain, called the fear-tension-pain cycle. Because you're afraid, you tense up, which makes the pain worse, which makes the fear worse. In order to interrupt the cycle, Bessey suggests we "lean into the pain instead of resisting it." One of my favorite parts of her book is when she writes, "I have learned to lean into some pain-- to let the pain be there, part of me, without fear, without judgment, without refusal, because this is all part of the struggle of birth and life." So that's what I'm doing. Instead of fighting it, I'm learning to lean into the pain, to let God use this pain to transform me in any way he sees fit. I don't want to resist it or pretend it isn't there, I want to embrace it, I want to enjoy this time God has given me to be close to him, to learn from him, to be changed by him.

Psalm 34:18 says "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in Spirit." I always took that to mean God was there to comfort us in difficult times, which I still believe is true, but this verse took on a different meaning to me lately. Not only is he there to comfort us, but the brokenness in us during these times is what brings us closer to God. He's close to the brokenhearted because it's those who are most humbled, most ready and willing to be used and molded by him; it's those who have nowhere else to turn to make sense of their lives.

While being happy is fun and relaxing and nice, it's not my life goal anymore (at least not today. I'm feeling very spiritual and enlightened today. Tomorrow I'll probably go back to my donuts equal happiness life strategy). I discovered that I will probably never be truly happy (at least not by my own definition). Things will always be bad in one way or another, whether it's work or life or family related, there will most likely never be a time when everything in my life is absolutely as I want it to be. If that does happen, then HOORAY! That will be a glorious day. But I can't chase that down forever, I'll waste my life waiting for something that never comes. I need to be ok with my life as it is. It's not what I wanted or what I chose, but it's my life and I need to accept it and enjoy the beauty of what God has given me.

I've never seen the movie The Odd Life of Timothy Green, but one of the trailers shows Timothy walking to school with his parents. His dad yells out "Have a good day!" and his mom says "That's too much pressure!" followed by, "Have the day you have!" (I find this especially hilarious because this line is what we use to make fun of my sister for being, well, like that.) It may seem ridiculous, but I think there's some wisdom in her school yard declaration.  I'm choosing to have the day I have; happy or sad, fun or monotonous, difficult or simple, I want to enjoy every part of it and learn what God's teaching me in every circumstance. My life may not be what I planned, but that's ok. It doesn't have to be. Since when did being "happy" become more important than anything else? I have the life I have and it's still pretty fantastic, even if it's fantastic in a completely different way than I'd expected.

I may not be "happy" but I am content, I have joy and love and trust that God knows what the heck he's doing even when I don't get it. I don't have to get it. I just get to sit back and enjoy the ride (however bumpy and unpleasant it may sometimes be). Being happy is nice, but growing and learning and changing is way more satisfying. So today, I will choose to be blissfully unhappy and enjoy every minute of it.

Honey Badgers vs. Unicorns

Disclaimer: This entire blog post comes from me casually reading the story of Noah. Casually. I did no research or studying to come to any of the conclusions I draw here. Some of them (all of them) may be horrendously inaccurate or misguided or heretical. My apologies if they are. You've been warned. Disclaimer over. 

So, as most of you know (if you don't know: surprise!) my fiancé broke up with me about a month ago. It's been a really weird month, to be honest. To go from thinking you're getting married and moving to Africa to starting what feels like your entire life over is…bizarre. And confusing. And disappointing. And sad. And did I mention bizarre? Like I said, it's been a weird month.

Clearly, there are a lot of emotions that go along with all this. I won't go into a lot of the details about what happened or why (partially because I'm still not sure what happened or why myself) but the one thing that really has been hard for me through all this (ok, one of many things that have been hard for me) is figuring out how God plays into all this. I was so sure God was leading me in this direction, to marry this person and start this life in North Africa. I was more sure than I'd been about most anything else in my life so far.

So what the heck happened? Did God lead me to that place just to drop me and leave me hurt and confused? Was this part of the plan from the beginning? Or did I totally and completely misunderstand what I thought God was "telling" me or where He was leading me? Do I even know what it sounds like or looks like when God's trying to tell me something? I'm not so sure I do.

I don't have all the answers still. I probably won't ever. But in the midst of all this I started reading through the story of Noah. Not on purpose though, I never purposefully read the story of Noah. It's one of those stories I feel like I get pretty well at this point. Guy builds a boat, takes a cruise with a zoo, there's some rainbows. End of story, right?

Maybe it was because I was feeling very deep and reflective about life and the meaning of things and why things happen and other things people think about when they're being weird and sad and melodramatic. Maybe it's just because I haven't purposefully read the story of Noah in about 10 years (clearly not my best call, I know, I get it, I'll read through the whole Old Testament now. Ok? Get off my back) but either way, when I read through the story of Noah this time it seemed very different from the bedtime story I'd always viewed it as.

It seems pretty obvious to most of us that if God tells you to build a boat, you do it. I'm ok with that part. Seems logical. I'd do the same thing. In fact, if I ever really thought I heard God audibly speak to me I'm fairly certain I'd do absolutely whatever it was without question for fear of Him melting my face off. Not that God melts faces, I mean He might, I don't know. I just wouldn't want that to be on my tombstone "Here lies Kelsey. Face melted by God." Actually, now that I see that written out, it looks kind of cool. But I'd still rather not incur the wrath of God to the point of face melting so I'm sticking with my original theory that if God told me to do something I'd do it, no questions asked. So I get why Noah went with it. Good call, Noah.

Here's the part where I feel like things get crazy. It took Noah somewhere between 50 and 100 years to build the ark (I'm not a biblical scholar, I'm making some estimated guesses here). And as far as I can tell (again, not a biblical scholar here), God spoke to Noah to tell him what to do, but then Noah didn't hear from God until after the ark was done. God told him to build the ark, then after it was done, God told him to head on in. That means that Noah plugged away building a giant boat for over 50 years without another word from God. As someone who likes a lot of positive affirmation, that seems insane to me. I can barely pick out an outfit without someone else telling me it looks ok. I can't imagine working on a boat for 50 years without a thumbs up or a gold star every now and again. If I was Noah I would've very much appreciated a "Hey great job, keep up the good work!" every decade or so, just so I'd know I was on the right path. But I'm fairly certain that didn't happen. God said do it and expected Noah to do it, no second guessing.

I really can't imagine what must've gone through Noah's head during that 50-100 years. How many times he must've second-guessed himself, replayed God's words in his head, tried to remember what exactly He had said, tried to decide if it was real, if it had actually happened. I don't doubt there were days when Noah thought he might be crazy, where he wondered if God had ever really spoken to him or if he'd just imagined it. But then that wonderful day came when God spoke again and told Noah to get into the ark.  That must've been a relief.

Ok so God finally speaks to Noah again, tells him to get on the boat and He shuts the door behind him (that was nice of Him, I think). And then it starts raining and the flood comes, people die, they float around for awhile, etc. etc. But then Noah doesn't hear from God again for an entire year. A year! Noah and his family spent an entire year on a boat with a ridiculous amount of animals (who I'm sure continued to have the normal bodily functions of animals. Some of them were probably seasick. I bet that was fun) without hearing from God. He spent an entire year cramped on a boat with his family, feeding animals, cleaning pens, trying to keep the honey badgers and the unicorns apart (which in my mind, he failed miserably at, which is probably why there are no more unicorns. I have no biblical evidence for that, I just choose to believe that's what happened).

I can't imagine what Noah thought during this time. I know at this point he trusted God to come through for him, but I'm sure it was still really awful. He had no idea how long he'd be on that boat. As far as he knew he could've spent the rest of his life bobbing around on the world's first (and only, to my knowledge) Floating Zoo. He had no idea what God had in store, what came next, what the plan was.

This is how I feel right now. I feel like I'm on an ark floating in the waters with no idea of what's going on or what happens next or how long I'll be here. I felt like God led me to this place but now it's different than I ever imagined it would be. It's not what I expected, it's not what I hoped for, it's not what I wanted. But it's where I am.

I feel like sometimes we look back at the stories of the Bible and think "Oh they had it so easy, God just spoke to them and told them what to do." We have this romanticized vision of what life was like for them, but I think we're wrong. I think it was hard. Really hard. God has plans, but He doesn't give us a heads up about what they are (which is smart of Him, really, because otherwise I would've sent God multiple notarized letters about why His plans were bad and unwelcome and as we all know, God hates getting notarized letters but He would've read them because He's nice like that and it would've wasted His time and my time and probably gotten really annoying after awhile and He would've had to melt my face off just to stop me from sending Him so much mail).  Noah trusted that God would take care of him. I'm sure he was scared and confused and worried occasionally, but he didn't let that overwhelm him, he didn't let it change his course or his trust in God.

Here's another thing about Noah that I found interesting. After a few months on the ark without hearing from God, Noah sent out some birds to see if the waters had receded. He didn't need God to give him step by step directions for his life, he knew a bird would fly around and come back if it couldn't land, so he did the best he could with what he knew. He threw out some birds to see what was going on out there. He didn't just sit on the ark and mope and complain about how God had left him there to die or to float around for all eternity. He made decisions himself; he moved the process along as best as he could without interfering with God's explicit instructions. He did something. He made the best decisions he could with the knowledge he had.

Eventually God told him to get off the boat and we all know what happens next: rainbows, wine, streaking, passing out drunk, curses on your youngest son, etc. That part of the story isn't super relevant to the point I'm making here (although it is largely entertaining). My point is this (well I have multiple points so I'll make them as succinctly as possible because this is already super long and you probably stopped reading a long time ago. I don't blame you. I didn't give you incentives to finish this. That's on me): Noah trusted God's plan, even when God was silent, even when things were confusing or scary, even when he had no idea what was going to happen or why or how he got into this mess or how many loads of camel dung he'd have to throw off the side of the boat. God doesn't give us the whole picture and he doesn't make it easy for us. But that's when we do the best we can with what we know. I can't sit around whining on my metaphorical boat waiting for God to open the doors. I might be here for weeks or months or years. That's why, even when we don't understand what's happening, even when we don't know why God would lead us to the place we're at, that's why we need to start throwing some birds out the window.

So that is my plan. Bird throwing. I may not understand what happened or why or if this was where God wanted me or just where I ended up. But in any case, I'm here now and I know that God won't forget about me, He won't leave me here to float around in my ocean of uncertainty and confusion forever. But until He opens that door and I can get off this miserable boat I'll just keep throwing birds, doing the best I can with what I know, serving Him where I'm at, and being thankful for the fact that no one told me to spend a year in an ark with a honey badger. 

What To Expect When You're Not Expecting

Disclaimer: This ended up being a lot longer than I was planning. BUT if you read all the way through there's a super cool story at the end!!!! Is that enough incentive? Probably not. A cookie? Do you want a cookie? We could talk about cookies...

So this week I'm traveling through Ohio and Pennsylvania visiting supporters and speaking at churches. It's been an awesome week so far, complete with various activities that involved visiting the house I was born in (well, I wasn't born there, my parents weren't hippies and we all very much enjoy actual medical facilities. But I came home to there and lived there for the next 3 years, so whatever you'd call that), getting licked and subsequently attacked by a baby cheetah, and seeing God do some awesome stuff through some amazing people. I'll skip the first 2 things and tell you about the last one.

For those of you who don't know, I was born in Alliance OH (in a hospital, just so we're all clear) where my Dad was the minister at Cornerstone Christian Church. We moved when I was 3, but I have some really amazing memories of that church and the fantastic people we knew there. Even though I didn't spend much time there, it still feels like coming home and seeing family whenever I go back to visit, which I got to do this weekend. They invited me up to speak to their church about my work with Team Expansion and my future in North Africa with Jordan. On my trip up I was talking to Jordan on the phone and he was telling me about a really amazing sermon he'd heard recently about expectant faith; not just praying for things, but truly believing God will provide the things you're asking for, not just knowing God can do something, but knowing He WILL.

This is something I have a hard time with. I'm an anxious pessimist by nature (a couple months ago I noticed a freckle in my eye and spent the next hour wholeheartedly believing I had eye cancer. I was certain I was dying. I'm pretty sure I even planned out my own funeral. Spoiler alert: I don't have eye cancer), so it's hard for me to not prepare for the worst. When I ask God for things I do so with the full knowledge that He can make it happen, but I always prepare myself for the disappointment that He won't. I'm always preparing myself for the next disappointment, the next bad thing, the next let down, not because I think people will always let me down, most of the time they don't, but because I hate the feeling of hoping for something or expecting something and being disappointed when it doesn't turn out the way I want it to.

Disappointment is one (of many) emotions I haven't figured out how to handle like a grown up. In fact, I'm pretty sure I still handle disappointment like a 3 year old. I tend to do a lot of whining and pouting and self-pitying when I'm expecting something or looking forward to something that doesn't happen. One time I was in a hurry and on my way somewhere (I'm sure it was somewhere important, as I am an incredibly important person, but unfortunately I can't remember where exactly it was. But I'm sure it was important) and had gotten a much needed large Diet Coke from McDonald's, which is one of my favorite things in the world. I was embarrassingly excited about my giant Diet Coke. As I was getting out of my car I put the drink on top of the roof for a second while I grabbed the rest of my stuff. It immediately slid off and exploded on the concrete. It was too late to go get another one, I was going to have to finish my day Coke-less. I'm pretty sure I yelled in anger and despair. I may have also cried. It definitely ruined the rest of my day (which I'm assuming was already going terribly because otherwise I probably wouldn't have cried about a Diet Coke. Maybe I would've. I really love Diet Coke). My point is that I don't handle disappointments well and unfortunately, that bleeds into almost every area of my life, including how I see God.

It's not that I think God doesn't hear my prayers or that He isn't answering them, I'm just always afraid the answer will be no. I know He can do all things, but I'm afraid He won't do the things I ask, so I prepare myself for the possibility that things won't work out in the way I'm asking. But that's not what God tells us to do. In Mark 11:22-24 it says "Have faith in God," Jesus answered. "Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, 'Go, throw yourself into the sea,' and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours." Well that pretty much speaks for itself, doesn't it...

So that leads me to the super cool story I promised you. As I was saying, I was talking to Jordan about expectant faith and how important that is in the line of work we're going into. So after we hung up I was thinking about it and realizing how terrible I am at expecting God to show up when I ask Him to so I thought to myself "Ok, this is what I should do, this is what I'll do. God, please let me raise $1,000 from the church I'm about to visit to cover the cost of a training course I have to take next year." As soon as I finished my prayer I kind of laughed to myself at that thought. I wasn't even going to speak at this church with the expectation of raising any money at all, it was just a visit to update them about my ministry. And on top of that, Cornerstone is a small church in a fairly rural part of Ohio. It's by no means a megachurch; in fact, I'm pretty sure there were less than 50 people there on the day I spoke. I promptly forgot about my $1,000 prayer and finished up my trip, arrived in Alliance, and had an amazing time visiting with people I hadn't seen in years, hearing stories about myself as a 2 year old, and seeing pictures of my family from 1990 (such awesome pictures, such bad hair).

I spoke to the Sunday School class and again during the worship service and filled them all in on my life, my ministry, my future in Africa, and assured them Jordan was, in fact, good enough for me :) Then we finished up with a pot luck lunch and some more stories about how awesome I was as a tiny child (what can I say, some things you're just born with). During the lunch they announced that they'd collected over $700 for my ministry in a love offering. I was absolutely floored. I didn't expect anything, let alone $700! I felt so encouraged and so loved. It was awesome.

***Story in a story: The week before I came to visit the little kids made banks during junior church and they had them spend the week raising money for me. A lot of them did chores for their parents to collect money. One of the little boys' chores was to pick up the chicken eggs, move the dog bed, and not chase their rooster. That was my favorite :) The kids ended up raising over $40 for my work in North Africa! About 5 kids raised $40! How awesome is that?! I was so humbled to think these little kids spent an entire week working and raising money just for me and the work I'll be doing! It was seriously amazing. One of my favorite moments ever. Ok end of story in a story***

As I was leaving they handed me a check for the amount they'd raised. I didn't think to even look at it, I was still so amazed they'd raised $700! I just stuck it in my wallet and thanked everyone. As I was leaving one of the elders handed me some cash, saying they also wanted to cover my expenses for traveling all the way up there. I told them they didn't have to do that, but they were insistent so I took it (again without looking) and thanked them again (seriously, they're the nicest people ever). I got in my car and started to drive back, still amazed that one of the smallest churches I'd spoken at raised $700 for me!

I stopped less than an hour later to get some gas. As I opened my wallet to pay I saw the check they'd handed me. I finally took a second to look at it and my mouth dropped. It was for $900! I was so sure they had said $700 when they announced it earlier. I was even more amazed than before. This one church of 50 people raised $900 for my work. So awesome. Then I remembered the prayer I'd prayed the day before. I thought to myself, "Wow God, this isn't quite $1000 but it's still WAY more than I thought I'd get so thank you! You really do provide." I started driving again and thinking about how cool God was when I remembered the cash they'd given me before I left. I hadn't counted that either so I immediately pulled over and counted it out. Exactly $100.

Mind blown.

God had answered me in a big way. I'd asked for $1000 and that is EXACTLY what He gave me. I really don't know what else to say besides my mind was seriously blown. I spent the next 2 hours driving and smiling and thinking to myself, "Man, God is so cool. So cool."

I wouldn't normally talk about finances or how much money someone gave me or anything like that, but this was too amazing not to share. God worked in an amazing way through Cornerstone Christian Church this weekend. He used Cornerstone not only to provide the money I needed for an expensive training course I have to take next year, but to show me how important expectant faith is, how important expectant prayer is, and how He truly does want to give us good things, we just have to trust that His word is true. He wants to show up, He wants to work things out, He wants to blow our minds, we just have to give Him the chance. Just trust Him, that's all we have to do. Should be easy enough, right? ;)

Oh right cookies. There was talk of cookies. Well umm, sure, let me just...oh no... I'm going... through a tunnel...can't hear you...

My New Life Plan and How the Germans Ruined Everything

So...it seems like I have some big life changes coming up soon. As most of you know, I got engaged last month and since I've promised some people the full story and explanation of what happened and what's happening next with my life and ministry, I figured I'd write it out so everyone could read it or not read it at their leisure. Warning: this will be the full story, beginning to end, so feel free to skip to the parts you find most exciting or are most curious about. There won't be a quiz at the end to see if you read it all, I promise.

Jordan and I met last fall at the Team Expansion office. He was in the office for some training before he headed to North Africa. We started dating in November and he left for North Africa in February. Before he left we discussed the possibility of me eventually moving to North Africa too and we decided I'd go visit in the summer to see how I felt about it (sidenote: I did not feel good about it at the time). He flew me out to visit at the beginning of June. It was a really great trip; I got to see the country, learn a little about the culture and the people, figure out what sort of North African food I'd be willing to eat, and see the work Jordan is doing there. Jordan's been doing amazing things in the short 4 months he's been there. He's really picked up the language and has made a lot of friends from the local university. He's had the chance to share his testimony and the gospel with his new friends multiple times and some of them really seem open to studying the Bible together. It's really pretty awesome. God is doing big things in North Africa right now and seeing all that made me really excited to be a part of it (but no act of God or man can make me excited about the prospect of eating North African food for the rest of my life. Pray for a McDonalds). 

Jordan's currently in North Africa on a tourist visa, which means he has to leave the country every 4 months in order to renew his visa. I just so happened to be visiting when his first 4 months were up :) We figured we'd take advantage of our chance to go somewhere fun, so we went to Milan, Italy for a week and stayed with some of Jordan's friends that live there. So that was super fun. 

I figured there was a pretty good chance Jordan would propose soon (I assumed there aren't that many girls willing to move to North Africa, so I figured he knew he needed to lock this down while he had the chance, before I went home and changed my mind) and I assumed he'd do it in Italy (I mean, he could've done it in North Africa but....come on). On the second day we were in Italy he wore the only nice shirt he brought, so I figured there was a good chance it would happen that day (spoiler alert: I was right). So we spent most of the day sightseeing around Milan, we visited the Duomo cathedral, walked the little Italian streets, we both knew he was going to propose soon and joked about it, so he fake proposed multiple times during the day at random places (to which I responded "You're not doing it here. Stop it. If you do it here I'll say no."), we ate lunch at McDonalds, you know, super romantic stuff. In the afternoon we decided to go see Da Vinci's Last Supper painting at the Santa Maria delle Grazie church. We found out after we got there that you not only have to pay to see it, but you have to make reservations ahead of time (that seemed silly to me), so we never actually saw the painting the church is famous for. But in any case, we started leaving and saw this little courtyard behind the church so we stopped in. 

We sat down in the courtyard for a minute and then he started into his speech of why I'm the most fantastic person he's ever met and how no one is nearly as awesome as I am and never will be and how he'll do whatever I ask him to do for the rest of his life (that's how I remember it going, at least). I thought this was another fake proposal, so I kept saying, "No, stop it. You're not doing it here. Why would you do it here? Quit it." At which he replied, "No, I really am doing it here." I said, "No, why would you do it here?" (I was perchance being a slight bit difficult) Finally he just said, "Kelsey, I'm doing it here! I have a photographer and everything! I'm going to propose to you." By then I was super confused at who and where the photographer was, but I didn't have much time to wonder because in the middle of his speech a large group of German tourists came pouring into the courtyard. He stopped talking, hoping they'd walk through and leave, but apparently they thought it was a really nice courtyard, too and decided to stay awhile. The Germans got comfy and sat down (with their luggage) on either side of us. So there we were, sitting in this Italian church courtyard, surrounded by German tourists with German luggage, in the middle of a half-finished proposal. Jordan had announced he was going to propose but hadn't actually done it yet, so we were sitting awkwardly in silence as he tried to figure out how to recover from the unexpected company. He decided we'd move to the other end of the courtyard, so mid-proposal we got up and walked to the other side where he un-flustered himself and finished his proposal. It was really super funny and we both decided later we wouldn't have had it go any other way. It was hilariously perfect. 

                                     

The proposal definitely hadn't gone as planned, but to his credit, Jordan had tried really hard to set everything up to go perfectly. He had a friend scope out the courtyard a week before at the exact day and time we'd be there to be sure it would be empty and he'd hired a photographer to take pictures of the proposal and to take some pictures of us around Milan afterward. He had even researched a really nice restaurant in Milan to go to that evening, but after a 45 minute walk there we found out it was closed (poor Jordan) but thankfully he had a plan B so we ended up at a really nice restaurant downtown Milan that overlooked the Duomo. Despite everything that didn't go as planned, it really was a wonderful day and now we have a super funny story, so I think it all worked out for the best :)

Ok so, now that we're engaged, what happens next? Well, it looks like I'm moving to North Africa. But not yet, don't worry! Jordan won't be able to get back to the States long enough for us to get married until next fall, so as of now, the plan is for us to get married with just our immediate families on a beach in September 2014 (so if anyone has a beach house they want to let us use for that I certainly wouldn't object). We hope to have some celebrations/receptions with our extended family and friends after we get back (more details on that later...much later. We have absolutely nothing planned yet). 

Team Expansion's policy is that newly married couples have to spend their first few months of marriage in the States (hooray!), so we probably won't be moving to North Africa until the spring of 2015. Until then, things will pretty much be the same. Jordan will continue his work in North Africa and I'll keep working at the home office in Louisville. Since we're both already with Team Expansion it makes things fairly simple. I'll have to go to a few more trainings between now and then, but that should pretty much be it! Well, that and all the planning and packing and support raising and getting married and combining our finances and sharing a car...but THAT should be pretty much it! Maybe?

So....I think that about sums it all up! I'm getting married and moving to Africa. That's not such a big deal, right? Right? Ok if you really want to, you can start praying for North Africa to really embrace the idea of McDonalds. And Taco Bell. And donuts. And Jesus. And movies in English. And Mt. Dew...