.grateful down to the marrow of my bones.

i spent all morning at a clinic for farm workers

where i will be working one day a week

through this spring and summer.

hearing fast spanish flowing

makes my heart happier than i can say.

sitting in windowless exam rooms

and twenty-minute appointment slots,

all of a sudden

i couldn't breathe for gratitude

at where He has sent me...

for bolivia,

where i learned this language,

where i got this fire in my bones,

where i met the girls whose faces propel me.

for my year with head start,

where i fell in love with this population

and learned how i can serve and know Him in others,

right here.

for grad school,

where i am so privileged

to be learning,

which lets me get to do this work.

yes,

yes,

yes,

yes,

yes.

thank you for every single one.

for the homesickness

and the nightmares

and the faith crisis,

for the times in that wheaton year

that were long and lonely,

for the exhaustion

and frustrations

and my misfit in this academia world,

yes,

all worth it,

i would take them all again,

to be here, now, with them;

for all the places i can't believe i've gotten to be,

i thank you.

The best addition imaginable.

I lived with Ryan and Kendra for a full year after I graduated from college. The three times now I've been back to Wheaton since moving to Oregon, going over there has felt a bit surreal.

Unlike the other places I called home in my five years in that town-

campus, which is now teeming with infants I don't recognize, or the house seven of us lived in after HNGR which is blessedly rented to a family who appears to be taking way better care of it than we did,

Ryan and Kendra's looks virtually exactly the same.

Same dining room table set with the same cloth napkins and same Anthropologie glasses.

Same sunny couch where I had all my quiet times in the mornings and same wall hangings from Ten Thousand Villages in every room.

Same Book of Common Prayer on the coffee table and same organic food in the fridge.

After we ate last Thursday, I had the strong urge to say,

"Hold on, before dessert I'm gonna just go get ready for bed, be right back."

It felt completely like if I opened the door to what had been my bedroom, I'd find my quilt on the bed, my pictures on the wall and my clothes in the closet.

December 2010

But there is this one wonderful, wonderful change in their house.

The Lord has done great things for us,

and we are filled with joy. 

A reflection on 2010-2011.

In two days I will have lived in Oregon for exactly one year.

I've been pondering how to explain what these last twelve months have been for me.

As I collect my thoughts and heart on the past year, it is good to reflect also where I was roughly this same time the last two years...

This was written in May 2011, as I finished my job as a caseworker/home visitor for immigrant families with 0-3 year olds, wrapped up my year of living with Ryan and Kendra a mile from my college campus, and said goodbye to my church, friends, and five years of history in Wheaton.

The tree outside my window at work has full, green leaves on it.
A few weeks ago, I saw it budding.
The last time it looked like that... I saw it, too. Looking out of the same window.

I have now spent twelve full months in one place. For the last... ok, not 365 days technically, but over 350, which I say counts- days, I have slept in the same bed. I get up every morning and drive to the same job. And there every day I blessedly, wonderfully, do... the same thing I have done for the last. twelve. months.

The trees were just budding when I started there. As they were wide and green all spring and summer long, I drove down Roosevelt into West Chicago and did my paperwork and got to know my families. Through the humid summer, I ran on this prairie path, got frappuccinos at this Starbucks, finger-painted with my kids outside on the grass. This whole fall, I was here, carving pumpkins (three times, in fact, because I didn't have a fall my HNGR year and I was absolutely maximizing this one!!), going apple picking (twice- see what I mean?), taking long walks alone among the leaves. They changed and fell and it snowed and I walked in that too, and then I got sick of walking in it and watched it from inside, and drank hot chocolate with my roommates and decorated our Christmas tree. It kept snowing. I held a Valentine's craft party and walked on a frozen lake with my small group, my kids made cotton ball snowmen and we sang about spring coming. I dared to slowwllyy shed first the down jacket, then the jacket, and now, finally, the sweaters. I am in short sleeves and flip flops and swingy skirts and I meet friends by the lake behind Rez multiple times a week to sprawl on the grass as we chat in the sunshine. This week my babies and moms and I took walks and pointed out the colors of the flowers.

I have had a year of serving Eucharist at church on Sunday mornings. I've had a year of doing life with my small group every Sunday night. I've had a year of journaling in the same coffee shops I journaled in in college. I've had 52 weeks of coffee heart-to-hearts with Tamara, of family dinners with Ryan and Kendra, of running with Meghan and pre-work breakfasts with Chet. 52 weeks of Christine and Steve and Elise, of Rez and Iglesia and my ten beautiful families.

Jana asked me on a Saga date mid-last semester, "What are your non-negotiables?". We were all weighing so many things as we tried to figure out where we'd be post-graduation- job opportunities, relationships, adventure, finances... What were going to be my deciding factors?

I needed to be in one place. I needed to have four full seasons in one place- in a familiar place. I didn't know why. I just knew I did.

Seeing that tree, I realized I saw it go through its entire life cycle this year. It grew its leaves and lost them and stood bare and grew them again and now here they are. Again. I saw all of it. I saw Wheaton, I saw my families, I saw the same friends, through twelve whole months. Through one entire rotation of the earth around the sun, I was here, doing a few tasks and loving the same people.

Written down this sounds really obvious and not that exciting. And I know that after college, this becomes the norm- most likely in the not-distant future, I'll spend two, five, ten or twenty!, full years in the same place with the same people.

But this first year of it since high school, and especially the year after HNGR and cancer, I'm so grateful. This world turned all by itself as I walked the same streets and loved the same people and focused on my simple work. The seasons changed as I healed and, somehow, that let me just be.

And I am so grateful for that.

"...Summer and winter and springtime and harvest

Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above

Join with all nature in manifold witness

To Thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love."

The tree outside my office, mid-October 2010.

When we can live next door.

Recently I observed the following interaction between two people's Twitters (yeah, I was on Twitter briefly. It has since been deleted. Too much stimulation for this girl's ADD brain.).

One friend commented on missing the other- something along the lines of "You live too far away!!!".
The other friend wrote back, "I know!! I can't wait til heaven when we can be next door neighbors!!!".

Oh man did that strike a chord.

I sent this card to Tamara for her birthday last fall.

I drew in a little Starbucks between our imaginary houses.

I have been actively, achingly missing my friends lately. I am feeling a deep longing to be doing regular life with them.

My trip to Wheaton last month was wonderful, and the best part was lots of casual time with my close girlfriends. I went shopping and drank coffee and talked for hours with Tamara. I took meandering evening walks through the neighborhood and cuddled on the couch watching Modern Family and talked for (more) hours with Christine. It was just what I needed, the perfect time with them.

And at points I could barely shake my sadness.

I was super surprised- and then I was SUPER irritated with myself! What kind of a jerk is so ungrateful as to feel sad over something like an awesome trip and lots of time with people I love?! When I love my life in Oregon and CHOSE IT and they love their lives there and I am SO SO lucky to have such great friends near AND far?!

Yeah well, unfortunately (as I would tell anyone else who tried it)- lecturing yourself about how you should feel (whether or not you're right), while so much fun and all, really is not all that productive.

I love where I live and I love the life I have chosen. I love my friends and where they are and what they're doing. I am grateful, and I would not change anything.

But I just miss them. Last year was just... life. Christine and I were involved in each other's daily lives, talking about work and relationships and what to buy at Target- as it all happened. I could stop by Josh and Meghan's apartment and go for a run or grab a bite of whatever delicious thing she'd just cooked on any random week night. A Friday night of Thai food and wine and a long conversation with Tamara happened regularly, and did not require a plane ticket.

I did all of those things in my eight days in Wheaton. It felt like being home- like the most normal, natural thing in the world. And somehow, this time, it sunk in that it's not. This past month since coming back, as I've realized it more and more- that those moments are not my daily life, and more than likely never will be again apart from a few occasional days of vacation...

Well... I've been sad.

I don't regret one bit of this decision, of pursuing this degree and definitely not of putting roots down in this community.
And I am so thankful for my friends' lives, for the blessings filling their Illinois worlds. For rhythms which are joyful and healthy, for jobs and church homes and husbands that love them so well.

Mostly, I am just so thankful I have these friends. Near or far, they are so life-giving for me. Every time I get off the phone with one of them after an hour of laughter and chatting that feels like we might as well be in each other's kitchens, the multiple times a week I send or receive a quick text for prayer over anything from a long day and a crabby attitude to paralyzing fear or deep pain- I feel filled up to the brim with thankfulness and joy. How blessed am I, to have such deep relationships with such wonderful women?

I just really hate not living near them anymore.

And I can't wait til heaven when we can live next door.

Talking to Tamara while I drink coffee on my couch... as she drinks coffee 2100 miles away on her couch.

(Actually, I think she was in her car. Pretty sure there was coffee, though).

 Vegging with Christine last month. A best friend and a purple fuzzy blanket... How life should be.

A gift in this year: Beth.

That cute girl front and center there, that one in the green shirt posing? That'd be her.

Oh Bethany Joy Hiltibran.

Beth with Miss Katie. I heart the Hiltibran girls.

Beth and I this year...

spent a lot of time together at Starbucks.
And Target.

And Denny's.

...and the Starbucks in Target (how convenient!!).

I love her a lot, and I am so grateful for her presence in my life this year.

Beth is the younger sister of my dear friend Matt, who is virtual family. So naturally when Beth showed up for her freshman year at Wheaton, I assumed that meant she would want to hang out with me all of the time.

I'm still not completely sure how she felt about that plan (particularly the first week when she was moving in and I basically kept introducing myself to her new friends?! Sorry babe)... but I'm very grateful she went along with it.

I'm grateful for her sass and sense of humor. This girl makes me laugh. One intentionally raised eyebrow and she can make a point get across quite clearly.

I'm grateful for the maturity so evident in her as I got to hear her process some of her thoughts about life, faith, friends, leaving home and starting college.
I'm grateful for her servant's heart- she's babysitting a family in her mission's kids all summer as they work at a missions conference.

I'm grateful for the unique perspective growing up as an MK in Europe has given her and how she's used it to engage in life deeply.

Actually, as I think on that sentence- I'm grateful just for her unique perspective in general. Beth is unique. She is a strong person, has a deep love for the people in her life, gets nuance and subtext in life, and has a deep and real faith. Often talking to her I learned things or got a perspective on a situation I couldn't have gotten from anyone else.

I am so grateful I got to be a part of her freshman year. The first year of college is such an exciting time. I loved getting to see that with her and be a part of it.
It was so much fun to watch her friendships and life at Wheaton develop.
And I am SO proud of how she engaged here. (So, so, so. Seriously. She did awesome.)

I'm thankful for how much she encouraged me.

(I'm really sick of putting that I'm grateful for people listening to me patiently while I freak out about things, but) I am grateful for this girl and how she did that. She was patient and thoughtful and non-judgmental and it rocked.

She became a real friend to listen to and talk through things with and I loved it. I'm grateful for any chance I got to hear her thoughts.

(I love frequent friendships. You think you're just running to Target to pick up shampoo and a cute shirt, and all of a sudden you're spilling your guts.)

I'm grateful for all our many coffee dates and shopping dates. They were my favorite.

I'm so, so grateful we went to church together every week. Seriously. I loved going with her, Tim, and our buddy Jeremy. It was consistent and safe and joyful and meaningful and I missed it terribly the weeks they were on breaks!! I loved driving them (...I'm sorry I was always late, guys... really... I am.) I loved sitting together and taking Communion together. I love that we had that routine and those memories.

The Hiltibran clan on my deck last summer.

I'm also thankful for what my friendship with Beth represents. I really love friends that become family. (I may not give people a choice on the matter, but still). My friendship with Matt has been one of the deepest and most impactful I've had ever, and one of the things I love about it is the way it has spilled into other relationships. It felt like the most natural thing in the world that I would spend a lot of time with Beth this year; and, it was. It was obvious. I love that I worshiped on Sundays with Beth and Tim. I love that we celebrated birthdays and Easter together. I love that I got to hear them process stuff and that Beth stayed with me when her flight got delayed (that poor girl... it's a long story) and that Matt lived in the Ramsings' basement last fall and that their parents take me out to dinner when they come to visit whether Matt's there or not (Story- we go to Egglectic for Easter lunch- Beth: "Oh, I've been here before. We came on family weekend." Me: "We did? When? I don't remember that." Beth: "Not with my family- my roommate's parents took us out." Me: "Oh, okay... um, because obviously I would have been there and all...") I love the extra people we get to pray for and be prayed for by and love. True friendship like that is such a gift.

At brunch on Easter Sunday.

And this fun girl, specifically, was a gift to me in this year.

And I am going to miss her a ton this fall.

 Thanking God for giving me Beth this year.

.10.

A gift in this year: Elise.

I just really love this girl a lot.

And I am so grateful for her friendship the last five years (yeah for friends from the first semester of freshman year!!).

I'm so grateful for her compassion. There are a million obvious and really important examples of her compassion- her work with immigrants. Her relationships with her women in India. How incredible she is with kids (seriously, babies like, flock to her).

 Buuut, the second I started writing that sentence I just pictured her compassion to me (sorry, I'm selfish like that). I'm grateful for her gentleness and sensitivity and patience. Which she has shown me always, but I've especially appreciated it at times when I've needed to vent or been freaked or broken. Or just late and stressed out.

I'm grateful for the amazing external processing conversations we had about everything. (Seriously. Like everything.)

I'm grateful for her sweet voice. It's just really soft and cute, and I miss it.

Random, but- I'm grateful we have so many mutual friends!! Seriously- that is actually kind of weird for me. I am much more of a one-on-one person so I tend to have lots of best friends more than a clique... so usually, my friends don't all know each other. But Elise and I are just connected to tons of the same people, even through totally different contexts. She went to church with Amy and was in Ryan and Kendra's small group. She knows the Tuesday boys because they were on her brother floor. She was in Christine and Jana's Wheaton Passage group freshman year. Obviously, we share Sarah. (<3). She knows a lot of Rez people through World Relief. It's just fun... the people I love loving each other is MY FAVORITE... and plus it means she gets the context for lots of my stories :-P.

I love that she had her own friendship with my roommates, and that we all got to interact and see different sides of each other. I loved nights she was over for them and I got to see her :-).

I LOVE how much she loves her brand-new nephew. Omigoodness it is adorable. This. Girl. Loves. Her. Nephew. I have seen many a cute uploaded family video :-)

And  love how she is as a rising adult in her family, and the thought she gives to it.

I'm amazed by her work ethic.

I love how she pushes herself, tries new things, does things she loves which bring her joy- cooking, pursuing her extended family, exercising, reading Twilight. For real.

I'm grateful for her work with immigrants. I'm so grateful for her deep love and respect for them. For their sake, and for the living example she is for me of the importance of welcoming the stranger and caring for the least of these. I'm grateful and in awe of the ways she has truly changed and impacted their lives.

I'm so grateful that when I was encouraging my families to seek out legal help or assistance, I could say, "And don't be afraid to call World Relief, the people are so nice- actually, if you call, you might get to talk to one of my best friends!!".

And I'm grateful that during work I could call her and have a mom get on the phone and ask her a question. So kind.

I'm grateful for the ways she has thought hard about hard things. I'm grateful for her opinions and that she is not afraid to have them. She is gentle and respectful, but she has taught me much about standing up for what you believe in and not apologizing for believing it. She is an example to me.

I'm grateful for her gift of perception. Elise gets people. She is exceptionally insightful- and she mixes that discernment with compassion. Her words of encouragement and challenge are virtually always true, meaningful, and convicting- and often reveal things to me which I had never seen before.

I'm so grateful for how she pursued me this year. She was so intentional with me and our friendship. It made me feel so special and I am so thankful for the time we got to spend together.
And I love her creativity in planning things. Even if sometimes they fell through (we never did go to an amusement park, did we... bummer!).

I'm grateful for the comfortability and affirmation that comes from such a long friendship, which has seen each of us through many different phases and loved each other through all of them.


I'm grateful for her deep intelligence which she never uses to put others down.
(And I'm so proud of her for how she's using it in her new adventure now).



I'm grateful for her sense of humor which is kind but sharp and witty and astute and wonderful.

I'm grateful for her uniqueness. Elise is Elise. She is strong, thoughtful, passionate,  gentle, creative, curious, capable, engaged, and loyal.


I'm really, really, really grateful for the way we were able to process HNGR together. Elise went to India the year before I went to Bolivia. Our experiences were different but there were some definite similarities... and definite similarities in things we have been working through since. She has been SUCH a gift for me in this. Such, such, such a gift. There are things I have been able to work through and name and process and be healthier in, specifically because I had her to talk to and listen to.
And there are things which have no solution, but in which it was just... such a gift to have someone who "gets" it.
I'm grateful for how much it felt like we spoke a language together, that I needed someone else to speak.

I am so grateful and humbled by how she took such good care of me this year. That is what I think, when I think about Elise and our times together this year: "Wow, she took good care of me."
Seriously. I would go over to her apartment and she would cook me something creative and delicious from her Cooking Light subscription. As she chopped and stirred and I pretended to help, she would ask me helpful and encouraging questions about my job and give wise and thought-out insights from her own work with immigrants. And then we would snuggle on her big comfortable couch and watch an episode of something brilliant, witty, and profound. Like the Pride & Prejudice miniseries or Gilmore Girls.

And often it was deep and sometimes it was happy together vegging. I am so grateful for those memories... and I'm grateful for how she really did take care of me. Being with Elise was a very safe, accepted, refreshing space for me this year. And I'm so grateful for that.

I'm grateful for the long walk around a lake we went on right before she moved.

I'm grateful she moved to DC, where I'm for sure going to see her.

I'm grateful she moved, because it makes leaving Wheaton easier for me.

Oh I love her.

She had just gotten back from HNGR. We were about to go...

Thanking God for giving me Elise this year.

.11.

A gift in this year: Spiritual Direction.

 
 I told her to look "spiritual director-ish".

This is Lisa. She is my spiritual director. She has red hair and a nose piercing and wears long dangly earrings and laughs a lot and prays all the time. So clearly she is epically wonderful to rock star proportions.

What, you may ask, is a 'spiritual director'?

I'm sure it varies from person to person, but I just googled around and liked these two quotes:

"The spiritual director is one who, by virtue of personal holiness and spiritual maturity, helps the directee to pay attention to the presence and work of God in her or his life." 

and

"Spiritual direction is a time-honored term for a conversation, ordinarily between two persons, in which one person consults another, more spiritually experienced person about the ways in which God may be touching her or his life, directly or indirectly. In our postmodern age, many people dislike the term "spiritual direction" because it sounds like one person giving directions, or orders, to another. They prefer "spiritual companionship," "tending the holy," or some other nomenclature. What we call it doesn't make any real difference. The reality remains conversations about life in the light of faith."

(Interesting context is that apparently a typical demographic seeking spiritual directors these days are middle-aged women wondering what to do when their kids have left home. ...And she got me post-HNGR. Sorry, friend.)

It's different from mentorship in that we didn't "do life" together. We hug and we chat when we see each other at church and I know a decent amount about her life. But when we met it was focused on my spiritual life, not a mutual relationship- similar to a counselor in that way. And she rarely gave straight up advice (although I generally have to beat that out of my mentors anyway. Unlesss it comes to what state they think I should live in... hmm who might I be speaking to??...).

 Generally to start, she'd just ask me what I'd been praying or thinking about this month.
I'd pull out my journal for reference  and vent about whatever'd been on my heart, while she nodded and looked empathetic (or laughed, depending on the source of my venting).

 Then I would pause for breath and look at her...
and we'd have a conversation that typically went like this:

Me: Sooo... what do you think?
Lisa: What do I think?
Me: Right. I mean... so, that's what's up! So... spiritually direct me! Ready set go!
Lisa: (laughs)

So annoying.

And then. She'd shrug, and smile... and ask me what I sensed God telling me.

And I don't know what was so magic about her asking me that. Because, it's not like I couldn't ask myself the same question. But for some reason every time she did ask me, I'd stop and actually... you know... think about it.

Honestly, sometimes, I told her that I had absolutely no idea, and that was fine.
But a good amount of the time, when I sat and was quiet and listened... Usually, I would start noticing things in my heart. Whispers I'd heard. Just... themes, of things. I don't know how to explain it?

Deep down- not always, but sometimes- I do know His voice.
The funny thing is, the things He says are usually way smaller and less exciting and directive than what I want Him to be saying. So I half-notice them... and push on in my anxiety, or impatience for a Big Revelation, or dissatisfaction with His words.

Spiritual direction didn't let me do that.

It gave me a space and accountability, to notice the whispers.

 I'm so grateful for that.

I'm grateful for who Lisa is. She exudes wisdom, compassion, and humor- not just haha humor, but humor as defined by Anne of Green Gables... "just another word for a sense of the fitness of things".

I'm grateful for the fact that she has the kind of wisdom and prayerful spirit that only comes from living through suffering. When I was looking for a spiritual director, a few months after I returned from Bolivia, I knew I needed someone who would not try to give easy answers to my girls' stories. I needed to rebuild my world and my theology in a way that had room for a good and sovereign God, and for what had happened to them without silver-lining it. Lisa can do that. She lives with open hands, to joy and to pain. She is hopeful and believes in redemption; but she acknowledges that this world is fallen and not our home. She has asked and lived incredibly hard questions and built her faith through years of hard work. Knowing and working with her coming from that perspective, was such an incredible gift to me. (Side note- on the one hand it is awesome that so many women I admire and pray to be like tend to have this quality... and the other hand, um, well that's terrifying... :-P)

I'm grateful for the space spiritual direction was- a chance to explore the hard and scary places with God, without having to worry about putting extra burdens on my close friends (who did such a fantastic job of loving me that HNGR-and-cancer year).

 I'm grateful, as I am with Rez in general, for the example I saw of someone who believes in a good God while engaging in lament. Oh how that taught me and gave me hope.

 I'm grateful for what I learned from her about prayer. She prays. All the time. And the way she prays is weird, and contemplative, and wordless, and in connection with Jesus, and clearly where she draws her strength from. And it makes sense to me in some deep-down way and I pray often that God will develop that kind of a heart in me.

 I'm grateful that usually if I cried, she would too. "What, why are YOU crying?". "I don't know. I'm just praying. You can keep talking." (That sounds super emo. Usually we would both be laughing in that exchange).

I'm grateful for her prayers for me- part of spiritual direction is committing to the pray for the directee. She prayed for me like crazy. It was nuts.

I'm grateful that I felt completely comfortable in that setting. She was SUCH a good fit for me in that role and that was so crucial in a really vulnerable spiritual season for me. I don't say this lightly- I could really see God's hand in us being matched up.

I'm grateful for the ways that she affirmed me to connect with God as He made me to be. A lot of times she would point out patterns in how I was drawn to pray and where she saw me sounding like I felt the most peaceful and connected to God. That was super helpful for me in giving myself permission to "pray as I can" and try more to serve Him with the gifts He's given me.

I'm grateful for her insights. I know she tried to balance keeping her own life out of it and pointing me towards the Spirit, but whenever she would share from her own relationship with God and how she had processed similar places I learned so much.

I'm grateful for where I feel like I am with God now- which these conversations had a big part in.

A few examples which show why I loved spiritual direction so much (I went through my journal from the last few months and found some quotes):

...Once after I SUPER vented-
Lisa: Oookay. Well... why don't we pause to pray...
Me: Am I overwhelming you?
Lisa: Umm... nooo... but... I feel like you could use a spiritual deep breath for a minute.

...Once while interacting with Lisa and her husband, I was kind of hyper-
"See, this is what your wife had to put up with all the time. This is what spiritual direction sessions with me looked like... Well, that and crying and cursing."
John laughed. Lisa just chuckled, and said, under her breath but not quietly,
"Oh-ho, and not necessarily in that order either...".

..."What is the Lord calling you to be faithful in today? Just today."

..."I don't expect life to be anything other than a mixture of fallen and redeemed."

..."Lord, show me Your perspective."

 ..."Lord, we pray that in this season You would increase Emily's capacity for joy." I had forgotten she'd prayed that until I found it written down several months later. I believe it has been answered and it's a prayer I'm continuing to pray, and so grateful for.

...Lisa: Okay, Emily, I have a question- do you feel connected with the word 'centered'?
Me: Mm... what do you mean by connected?
Lisa: Like... does that, hit anything deep for you?
Me: I mean... I like being centered...
Lisa: What about... 'rest'?
Me: (blank stare)
Lisa: Just, what word, if you hear it, makes you feel that you are good with God. That you and He are where you want. How about 'peace'...
Me: Open communication.
She laughed so hard she started tearing up.
Lisa: Of course. Oooffff course.

...Once after hearing me freak one more time about the whole good-God-horrible-things paradox, she (incredibly tentatively and compassionately) asked if I knew anything about physics.
"No...?"
She then explained string theory to me... the idea that two ideas can seem to contradict each other yet are mutually true. Because there are is a gap law no scientist has discovered yet.
She acted like she felt so silly using that as an example, but for some reason it was one of the first ways I'd heard that put that I felt like I could sort of hold it.


...

Recently, in the car on the way to meet with her, I was thinking about what I would talk about. I had been turning a certain situation in my head over and over for days and was super stressed about it. And I was feeling like I was definitely dishonoring God in this. I was not being trusting. I was stressed and distracted and it was bad, and so I was going to talk with her about how to turn my focus onto other things.

"Mmm. So... what do you sense the Holy Spirit telling you?"

Um. I mean. The trust thing, right? And the selfish thing?

She waited. And I thought about it. I thought about on my lunch break that day, when I had gone to the armchair by the big picture window in the West Chicago library and stared out at the trees before God. What had I sensed, really, if I thought about it?

"I guess... well, this doesn't seem to really have much to do with the situation."

"That's okay."

"Well...  I guess when I was praying today... the only sense I really had from God,

was that He was glad I was telling Him that I was sad."

She grinned. "That sounds good."

Um? "...What sounds good?"

"What you just said. That God's calling you to be sad with Him."

"...It does?"

"It doesn't do any good to not be who you are in front of Him."

...And that was what she said. I had fully expected for her to give me some verses to look up on trusting God in the face of anxiety, or something. And we talked about trust, but it was never in a condemning or shaming voice. It was always to guide me to the Voice I already knew, was already hearing, needing to listen to. She wasn't trying to guide me to a particular conclusion; she just wanted to tune me in to Him.

So grateful for that.

 Thanking God for giving me spiritual direction this year.

.12.

A gift in this year: Serving Eucharist.

"Take this in remembrance that Christ died for you,

and feed on Him in your hearts by faith, with thanksgiving."

"The body of Christ, the bread of heaven."

"Amen."

"The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation."

"Amen."

I pick up my tray, check on the sheet which aisle I am assigned to, walk over and take my place.

There I stand as they file down. Parents with their children, a baby on one hip and a toddler or two in tow. Young adults, and elderly couples who hold each other's shaking hands as they walk down the aisle. Little girls in twirly dresses with matching headbands, skipping more than they walk. Fellow Wheaton grads sitting together in groups. Faces I recognize, faces I don't. They file down. They pause at the deacon, take the bread. They stop and take the wine from the chalice, or they come to me.

"The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation."

"Amen."

I don't always make eye contact- I wait. I remember what Nancy, the Eucharist ministry coordinator and one of my favorite people, says about how she serves it- she takes a step back, leaving them room to meet with God, but she prays for them as they drink. I pray for each one of them- specifics if I know them. I pray "Lord, bless her today", "Bless him", as they tip it, drink and walk on. I affirm His love for them as best I can for that moment they are in front of me, meeting Him.

Meeting Him.

I get to watch them as they meet Him.

"The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation."

"Amen."

"What we... must realize, is that all our intellectual articulations about this sacrament are but feeble human attempts to comprehend the basic mystery of God's unconditional loving acceptance of us, His children."

 The mystery is unfolding in front of me.

Every week, as I stand there, it is not just balancing the tray and timing the saying and checking to make sure I have enough cups for the people in line. It is those things, but I am seeing the mystery. I am standing in front of the mystery.

"On the night He was handed over to suffering and death, our Lord Jesus Christ took bread; and when He had given thanks to You, He broke it, and gave it to His disciples, and said, “Take, eat: This is My Body, which is given for you. Do this for the remembrance of Me."

It is acceptance by Him. It is intimacy with Him, unconditional on how we feel or what we say.

It is His body, given to us.

Sometimes they're crying as they take it. Not infrequently. Oh, do I long and pray for the ones who cry; and my heart swells with wanting to offer them comfort- but more it swells with hope that they are receiving it... and with gratitude and awe that the meaning of this cup, can bring them to tears.

I love when they do look into my eyes, and I get to smile into theirs as they drink.

"The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation."

I always try to pick up the tray instead of the chalice because it holds the non-alcoholic wine and I love serving the children. They come, too. The babies, even, and I love watching their parents hold the cup to their lips and minister this living grace to them. I love praying for those babies and their sweet lives the Lord is at work in, as they drink it, too.

I love the toddlers who pick it up all by themselves, so proudly. I squat down to serve it to them, and I say the words to them, too, just the same.

"The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation."

"Say 'Amen', buddy!"

"Aaa-mennnn!"

I'm not sure I'm supposed to, but usually I whisper, "Good job!" as they carefully put the empty cup back.

I love when it's someone I know. We don't act differently, because we are all there as one family. But oh, how special it is to get to participate in that moment, that mystery, with someone I love deeply, whose life I get to share.

"The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation..."- I'm so grateful to get to say it to them.

"Amen."

 "The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation."

"The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation."

"The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation."

Over and over and over I say it, as they file down, as they take it, as they receive and as they meet Him. Over and over I get to see the mystery. Over and over I get to affirm His love and His work in them. Over and over I get to speak words that enter and comfort my heart, that are truth.

I am so grateful God gave me the great gift of serving Eucharist at Rez this year.

"Eternal God, Heavenly Father, You have graciously accepted us as living members of Your Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ;

and You have fed us with spiritual food through the Sacrament of His body and blood."

Thanking God for giving me the chance to serve communion this year.

.13.

A gift in this year: Iglesia.

When I first started attending Iglesia, towards the end of my senior year at Wheaton, I thought of it (/it was), the "Spanish service" of Rez. It has since grown and evolved from a small group of about three families which met in one family's basement, to a full-on church meeting in the ministry center, which is separate from Rez (although a part of the same family of churches as I understand it...).

My role in Iglesia has evolved and been re-defined as well. The original plan was for me to lead a group of the youth. Over last summer I started getting called in to occasionally lead the kids. And then occasionally was turning into every other week... then every week. And the youth were hard to get together...

Then we moved to the ministry center and combined with another smaller group to be a bigger group, and there were more kids, and, well, new plan... Steven and I were officially leading the kids!

Honestly, my first reaction to this development was great hesitation. I am not a teacher. Not. A. Teacher. I love mentoring. I love snuggling babies. And I absolutely love kids... but managing a room full of them, not just for fun, but for spiritual development? Um...

And, well, this is the part where I'd love to jump in and say, "BUT THEN IT ALL WENT SWIMMINGLY AND NOW I LOVE TEACHING AND THEY HUNG ON MY EVERY WORD AND GREW SPIRITUALLY LEAPS AND BOUNDS AND I CREATED AN ENGAGING, CREATIVE, BIBLICAL SUNDAY SCHOOL CURRICULUM THAT'S BEING USED IN CHURCHES THROUGHOUT THE STATE."

But, nope.

It was really, really hard. And I don't feel like I was that good at it... ever. And honestly, it was frustrating and tiring, a lot, and there are things I'd do differently now... and I have some strong feelings I still really need to think through, about the ways the kids were affected by my limitations.

It was, however, very much a ton of fun and a huge source of joy for me this year...

I'm so grateful for each and every one of those kids. I love them.

I'm grateful for their hugs and sweet smiles and funny, quirky personalities, and crazy antics (...most of the crazy antics :-P).
I'm so grateful for the privilege it is to teach kids about God's love for them, and to meet with them in His Word.

I'm grateful for the chance to try to reach out to the more difficult kids. I'm grateful for the times we felt like we were getting through. I'm grateful for the chance to pray for God's heart for them and to show God's love to them.

I'm grateful for the exhausting creative challenge of trying to come up with ways to get Bible stories and messages across in an engaging and relevant way... I'm grateful for the awesome feeling when it seemed like it WORKED!

I.am.grateful. for the times when it didn't seem that it worked... and what that taught me about "doing your best, praying it will be blessed, and letting God take care of the rest" (thank you my dear sweet freshman roommate).

I'm grateful for their laughter. And for our amazing fun times together... soccer on the grass out front, for the record, is absolutely a spiritual exercise... And tickling is apparently incredibly helpful to their ability to study the Bible, they assure me.

I'm grateful for times when I came back from a few weeks away and kids immediately ran up and said they'd missed me.

I'm grateful for getting to know some of their needs and personalities and trying to tailor lessons to them.

I'm soooo grateful for the many times God taught me through their insights and questions.

I'm so grateful for the time spent in prayer over them... and with them.

I'm so grateful for how God is at work in their hearts and lives... and that we are "coming late to a party".

I'm so grateful God let me be a part of their stories.

These are our kids in the room one day we were playing around with trying to create a more peaceful atmosphere...

we liked avoiding gross flourescent overhead light, but this particular lamp did not quite cut the whole need-for-people-to-be-able-to-see-each-other thing.

 

Making Christmas scenes out of popsicle sticks (does that scream desperation for ideas to you? Well...), and lovin' on the leaders.

I'm grateful for memories together. One specific family's kids Steven and/or I ended up taking out after the service frequently. This was one of my favorite, favorite things. I loved that the kids were excited about it. I loved getting the chance to enjoy them and get to know them better. I hope and pray they are bright moments and memories for them. Some of my most cherished memories in my whole life are of times when I got to go out with leaders from my youth group throughout high school. (...and by throughout high school, I mean, every time I'm home now... I probably just take it for granted a bit more after a decade :-)). But seriously. Quality time is my love language to an insane degree and at least for one of these boys I see that a lot too. Getting to spend fun time with special adults is such an exciting thing to a kid and can be such an amazing way to love on them. And I look back on every one of those Starbucks and IHOP dates as just as spiritually formative (trusting spiritual leaders and feeling safe and accepted in a fellowship environment!!!) as any Bible study I ever did. True story.

....annnnd, that was a novel. In conclusion, I am so grateful we went out with them after class so often. I pray it had fruit beyond what we can see. And I'm grateful for the memories of my leaders doing it for me, which moved me to do it more on the nights when I was beat and just wanted to go home.

...Honestly, I have been reflecting a lot in the last couple of weeks,

on the ways that involvement in Iglesia was a hard area for me this year, too.

Not because of any lack of love or joy in my relationships with the members of this church.

But because of how much my own failings were present.

And that is something else I have been gradually starting to thank God for.

It is a gift to get more clarity on my weaknesses, and my sinful patterns. And to see more clearly and startlingly, how they affect me, and other people. And if you are someone who prays for me, please feel free to include in your prayers that my continued reflection on these areas turns into the strength to make actual changes.

I'm grateful for realizing more of just how often I fail to follow through on things I say I will do- or things I just straight up should do.

I'm grateful for recognizing more excuses I give for this laziness, to my own heart and to others.

I'm grateful to be seeing more of how often I care more about how I come across to others than how much I am quietly and honestly just doing what I am accountable for before God.

I'm grateful to be realizing in more dramatic ways, just how much I can shirk work, prioritize my own comfort, and complain in my heart (or out loud), when I am tired, drained, lonely, or feel like I can blame a bad result on someone else.

These were also very real gifts from God through Iglesia to me this year.

But not the only ones.

(I love these little girls so much I almost can't handle it. They are the ones who are usually in my arms when I take Communion... oh they make me so happy. And I love love love their sweet and amazing mom. Which is why I feel really bad about how sad she'll be when I steal her children.)

Girls at my house making Christmas cookies! 

I'm so grateful for the girls I got to mentor. Griselda and Frances became real friends. I adore them, and I look up to them. And I have regret in those relationships, too, about not having as much time or energy as I wanted to; but thanks be to God because I have been seeing some sweet fruit in our times and friendships anyway. I'm crossing my fingers that hopefully it was a situation of God multiplying the loaves and fish I could offer. I love those girls... they brought me so much joy this year!

I'm grateful for the moms at church who became friends. (I wish I was staying. I feel more and more comfortable with them every week.) (I mean I don't wish I was staying, really, but... you know what I mean.)

I'm grateful for the warmth and care they extend to me.

I'm grateful for the times I felt comfortable and at home in that community.

I'm so grateful for the chance to get to know more about what it is like as an immigrant here; to know and enter into their stories in any way.

I'm grateful to have gotten to know the teens, even though I didn't spend as much time with them as I wish I could have. I so enjoyed the time I did spend, and the chance to get to see them on Saturdays.

And obviously I'm so grateful for the close friendships I gained through it!!

I'm grateful for some clarity I got about how to pursure church community and service in the future.
I'm grateful to be wrestling with the balance between "do few things, but do them well" and pouring out where there are needs. Still confused, but grateful to be thinking about it.

I'm grateful for the Kirmes nights where we all eat together to enjoy each other and raise money for the church.

I'm grateful for the baptisms and the first Communions we rejoiced over together.

I'm grateful for celebrating Mexican Christmas traditions!

I'm so grateful to have gotten to worship and pray and take the Eucharist in Spanish.

I'm grateful to have seen and stood in awe, of what can come of people getting to know their neighbors (seriously. That's how this whole church started. Jonathan was intentional with his neighbors.)

I am grateful for this (from the website):

"As a church we exist for the sake of the community and advocate for justice for those whose voice is often not heard..." 

 -to have gotten to be a part of it, to have gotten to see it and be formed by it and learn from it.

This was tonight :-).

 

...This might seem random but it was one of my favorite things. We did a lesson about Jesus healing the blind man. I wanted them to appreciate how grateful that man must have been, so I blindfolded them all and then told them to find the candy that was hidden around the room. Finding candy blind is frustrating; therefore being blind is frustrating; WOW it's great that Jesus heals! Unfortunately for the point of my lesson, they thought the blindfolds were great fun and turned it into a big crashing into each other game. But we went over how lonely and desperate that man must have been in those times, etc... wrote things he couldn't do on the board so that they could imagine how kind of Jesus it was to heal him... anyway, after the service when I went back into the room I found this on the board. They got the point. Love.

Thanking God for giving me Iglesia this year.

.14.

A gift in this year: Meredith.

 

"We cannot tell the precise moment a friendship is formed.

As in filling a vessel drop by drop there is at last one which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over."

-James Boswell

Girlfriends are basically my favorite thing. And I have a lot of them. I have a lot of awesome ones.

But there have only been a very few of this particular type. Where someone is completely not in my life one week... and then somehow we end up sitting down and having a real conversation. And maybe it takes one more coffee date.. but by the next week, I just know they are going to be in my life, in a deep way, for a long, long time.

And there are all of a sudden text messages, and secrets, and needing-to-tell-each-other-things, and if I stop to actually count length-of-time-of-friendship it's bizarre to me how short it is. Because they are in my heart in a way where it just feels silly and completely ridiculous to even imagine what it would be like without them.

That happened with Mere this year. And it has been such a gift.

This is just some boy she found lying around in the park...

A little bit of the context for our friendship... most of the fall, though I was soaking in beautiful friendships and community in many ways, I was Very Very Dedicated to not having "a person". It's a long story (and will be another post soon). But I basically was very sure that I had heard from God that I needed to be in a season of more intentional solitude- not just in terms of physical space but emotional, too. And the way the fall unrolled, this was not particularly difficult to achieve.

But around Christmas, I started, well, pretty much yearning for some closer, more daily friendships.

("But I'm supposed to be lonely right now!! I'm supposed to only have Jesus be my Best Friend!!!!")

Around the same time, I was assigned to a Rez prayer group- the same one as Meredith. We had mutual friends so I knew she was great. But I decided I didn't have time to do it since I was already meeting with two small groups. It was a good decision, but Steve moaned when he heard she'd been assigned to mine.

"But you have to be friends with MEREDITH MALONY!!!! That would have been PERFECT!!!! Do you KNOW her?? She's AMAZING!!!! And you guys would have been SO WONDERFUL for each other!!!"

But... I couldn't do the group! But bummer, because she did seem cool.

Long story (notthat)short, when I was in Maryland over Christmas break I had some helpful and insightful conversations with wise friends. They spoke into my life in a lot of ways, including the areas of community, and solitude, and the decision I'd made to intentionally not pursue closer friendships for a few months. And they encouraged me that maybe I had learned what God had wanted to teach me in that season, and it was okay if I felt ready to move out of it.

And that happened to coincide with when Mere happened. We ran into each other at the Rez volunteer breakfast, and sat down with our paper plates to chat. We looked up an hour later and everyone else had left- we were sitting on the only two folding chairs still out in the middle of the almost-completely-empty auditorium.

She put it recently as "God answering prayers we didn't know we were praying". I'd agree with that statement.

I am so grateful for the gifts of this girl and this friendship.

I'm grateful for how it happened... the existence of our friendship and its formation taught me much about His character this year. My friendship with Meredith, and its timing, is a sign to me of God's intentionality, of His knowledge of what we need, of His "delighting in doing good" to us. Those were lessons I needed- need- to learn. (And really, could you think of a lovelier way for Him to show them to me?!). I'm grateful for what I've learned through this friendship about the role of community and doing life together in faith.

I am so grateful for the depth of our friendship.

I'm grateful for a kindred spirit. I'm grateful for our conversations about desiring to be settled, about "hanging up curtains" where we live, about Rez, and relationships, and how (...and where, and with whom) to live after college.

I love our long walks through Wheaton and Glen Ellyn, meandering through the neighborhoods with our arms linked, pointing out the cute houses we like, rejoicing at coming signs of spring and now delighting in summer sunshine and green.

 I love that we lay on the grass by the playgrounds and at the lake behind Rez spilling our hearts. (...Or talking about what foods we craved when we studied abroad. Which is also important.)

I'm grateful for cuddling under a blanket on her couch, staying up late talking.

I'm grateful she came over to help me pack and brought packing tape and plastic bags and was absolutely firm in making me get rid of stuff I needed to get rid of.

I'm grateful she'll call me when she has extra soup in her fridge she wants help finishing off.

I'm grateful that when I sent out on email jokingly asking for chocolate, she immediately arranged to take me on a date to a chocolate freakin' restaurant.

Sheee's just adorable. Ooh- and look at our chocolate-covered strawberries!!

I love hearing her heart. I am so grateful and privileged by her intentionality in sharing it with me. I'm so appreciative of how she receives mine.
I love the role we play for each other, I think, in being consistent prayer-and-processing friends.

I am so grateful for a friendship in which we can talk for hours and still have plenty to say.

I'm grateful that it is perfectly normal for a date to include both laughter and tears- and usually plenty of random tangents, even in the midst of something intense.

This was taken tonight! What is a movie-and-pizza-night without a Photobooth session?

I'm so grateful for who this beautiful girl is.

I'm grateful for her silliness. (Friends who make funny faces and weird noises are my favorite.)

I'm grateful for her empathy.
And her great kindness.

I'm grateful for her deep desire and striving for honesty with herself and others.

 I'm grateful for her deeply committed faith.

I'm grateful for her loyal heart.
I'm grateful for her intentional vulnerability.

I'm grateful for what I learn from her maturity, wisdom, and nuance.
I love how she loves her family and the way she talks about her mom.
I love her sense of humor.
I love her up-for-adventures! spirit.

I'm grateful for and learn soooo much from her attention to and faithfulness in small things.

I just love her so much.

 

Look- it's that same guy from the park! We found him in her apartment, too! What a coincidence!

"You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what's a life, anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die. A spider's life can't help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone's life can stand a little of that."

-Charlotte, Charlotte's Web

E. B. White

(for some reason that quote just made me think of her as soon as I read it. Charlotte is a wise spider.)

Thanking God for giving me Mere this year.

.15.