Just Stay

"Just stay."

"You don't have to go."

"We miss you."

3 and a half years ago I sat in front of a group of elementary and middle school kids I had spent a lot of life with. I mean, considering I had been in middle and high school myself... I basically grew up with them on my hip and under my wings. My friends back then thought it was cool and even ended up hanging out with us a couple days after school. We didn't really think it would go this far for me. Then again, maybe they did and they just let me hope and wish and dream on my own.

But I sat in front of them and told them I was going to college. And it wasn't UK like we had planned as a family unit. Where the girls and I could still have ice cream and dance parties and the boys would be able to come to basketball games with me. Nope. Not UK. It wasn't even in the same state. I told them I was going to an itty bitty school in Knoxville, TN, to study the Bible and teach people around me how to love... Marcus and I knew then that my journey at Johnson wouldn't look normal. Nothing about me is really "normal." But I knew then my role would be tough... and I would stick out like a sore thumb. The kids didn't understand that though... and honestly I'm still trying to avoid my obvious role here and I keep getting my butt kicked for it. I have a semester left to figure it out okay?

Of course I would still visit! I reassured them. Plus...

"I'll be back in 4 years."

3 and a half years ago I sat in front of a group of elementary kids and led their bible rotation and helped out with homework where I could. I was nervous, but also very at home. Would I ever be accepted or love others like I did in Lexington? Of course Bolivia is a whole other category in this, but I almost felt more foreign in Knoxville those first few months than I did across borders. The adults in the room made comments about how much I resembled him. How the kids just want to be around me. I was honored and terrified all in the same moment. Even though I can fit his basketball shoes... those were still huge shoes to fill and the bar had been set. I was only a volunteer then. But they knew just like I did, they had me for 4 years. 

2 summers ago I sat in front of a group of middle school kids that were a lot bigger and louder than the babies I just spent my first two years of college with, an prior to that. But a few dance moves and a couple jokes latter it was as if I was a middle schooler myself. "This is where I belong" I thought. And I stayed with them through the fall and winter and spring. 

Last January I got a call about needing me to do something really hard. We had just lost Zae and our kids were wrecked. Change isn't something I am too fond of. Which is ironic considering how much I love cities. It is a love hate thing for sure. But that call changed my life forever. And I wouldn't want to change it for the world. 

Almost a year ago I got on a bus full of kids I didn't really know. I recognized a few older siblings, and a few seniors that had helped me out before, but I sat in a seat on my own. We were headed to resurrection. The time is coming where we get on that bus again, only though this time, I'll know everyone. My heart will swell with joy and I'll thank God for this family. 

My heart will also break a little, because the next time I journey out to the mountains that far it will be for my Graduation. And the ones I told "I'll be back in 4 years" will be awaiting my return. And the ones I've done life with the last 4 years will hold their breath and say, 

"Just stay."

"You don't have to go."

"We miss you."

Less Coffee: Honest Thoughts

It's day 3 without coffee.

I wish that number sounded as significant as it felt. 

My head stopped throbbing around 4am this morning. 

I have a lot of peppermint oil & Tylenol to thank for that. 

Funny how we fill the absence of one thing with another...

People have asked me why I randomly decided to separate myself from something 

I love so much.

Something that does not define me.

Something that I am not addicted to, or in need of at least twice a day.

And something I am most definitely not a snob over. 

I can't really see the problem there myself either to be honest. 

Guess that's why I just ordered a cappuccino in The Old City on accident.

Damn.

-

I woke up before the sun this morning.

Got dressed. Ate breakfast. Started the dish washer and wiped down the counters.

I haven't been the best housemate recently.

I want to do better.

Somehow I make a part time position very, very full time.

And then there is school...

Yeah. School.

Less than 5 months away from the end.

I don't handle change very gracefully. If you know me at all, you know this to be true.

I am both excited and terrified all at the same time.

Currently have an essay and a half left to finish and turn in for this semester.

So here I am.

Writing to you.

Again... being finished sounds great.

But change.

-

I went to the Police station this morning so I could get on my knees and beg the judge to reduce a ticket I got at the end of last month, on my way to school.

Gathered all the peaceful vibes I could.

Bundled myself up head to toe cause the high is 30 today and my summertime joy has magically faded away with my tan skin.

I knew I would be surrounded by guns. Surrounded by uniforms. Surrounded by people I want so badly to love... but somehow still feel as though they are the enemy that hurt my people.

Part of me just wanted to tell the cranky officer behind the security desk that I wish I could hug him.

Is that weird?

Maybe. Whatever.

I just know he needed one, and I needed to be the one to offer.

But I didn't. He was just a little too cranky. And I was still nervous.

Turns out my day to beg the judge isn't until 9am TOMORROW.

It's fine.

-

I also need to admit that ordering a cappuccino wasn't an accident.

Now you see why.

8 years ago

Let me tell you a story

about 8 years ago I met a man who was on a journey much bigger than himself. he had left his home, family, and a city full of kids that still talk about him to this day. he went to the one place he told God he didn't want to go.

he used what he had to play, teach, and invest in this new city full of kids. I was in 6th grade when I decided I would do the same one day.

fast forward, that man called us 7 out to be uncomfortable, to never be average, and to be the salt and light of this earth. we're not perfect. we fail. but we are a family.

hot summers where we developed our own camps & made memories under the street lights.

school years full of helping kids read & using our fingers to count.

moving away. college. change.

pain. heartbreak.
joy. celebration.

the call has always been there, in the distance. Every move I've made laced in the thought that it won't be a dream one day. It will be real. It is real.

the years have passed and that man has remained. the dream never fading.

patience.
so much patience.

he began calling us his own.
in the victories and our less than elegant moments.

when the news came that the dream was forming into a structure, with cement, flooring, windows, wood beams... goosebumps covered me and his eyes were just as glassy as mine.

here we are.
8 years removed from the introduction, even more from the birth of the dream.

we are looking at Gods provision.

we are looking at why that man called us out the way he did. so that one day... there will be more like us.

there will be more encouraged to believe that 6th grade dreams can be made real. and more will see that waiting for God to be God, is so, flipping worth it.

and the story continues...