process

I haven't been able to process anything that's happened in the last two weeks.
Actually, the whole summer really. 

Haven't had the time, and to be honest, 

I've been afraid to. 

I had a break down in my parents laundry room on Sunday.

Everyone tried talking, listening, and some knew to just wait it out.

Dad busted in wanting to know what was wrong with his daughter,

Mom had to deal with the rambles,

Olivia got the ugly cry,

Michael was there for the recovery.

Almost a week later and I'm still sifting through my heart over it all.

Maybe one day I will be able to understand,

 what it is to love like they love me.

Family always seems to be my anchor,

even after we've been separated by storms for so long. 

My last day at EYF.
It was a beautiful day.
I cried with Rachel as we sat and reflected for a few minutes,
 once the babies were all gone.
Thankful for similar hearts.

Sometimes kids have to stop coming to program.
Sometimes kids have to leave their homes,
even when they don't want to.
And sometimes the only answer is prayer.
Actually, always... it's always the answer.

The wind couldn't have come at a better time,
even though I do miss sunshine.

Tomorrow
 I'm going to sleep,
walk around my city without shoes,
and process.

hour glass love

Six weeks.

It took less than six short weeks for me to fall in love with them. 

Way less actually.

Now there are less than two weeks left.

Two weeks.

I feel so full, yet so empty at the same time.

Being away from my 2nd family for so long during the school year, and then not going back to them at the beginning of May was one of the hardest choices I had to make.

But it was a decision I had to make.

Two weeks from now I'll be headed back to the bluegrass for what I like to call "family vaca" which is code word for taking a bunch of city kids to Eastern Kentucky and making a lot of memories.

It will end too fast.

I will have to pack up, again, and head back to Knoxville, too soon. And start my third year of college, away from them.

Micah Man joked the other day while he was down here for the 4th of July that I missed all of 2nd and 3rd grade for him... he was right. I'll miss 4th and 5th grade too.

Then middle school will be here and I'll wonder how.

I did not get to see my Bolivian family this summer either.

Pictures and texts sent while others went without me, made me so happy and very sad.

I couldn't feel the sandy roads, or hear beautiful Spanish speaking voices sing to our Father. I couldn't hurt myself on yet another hazardous slide everyone dares me to go on.

I do not know where my baby sisters are who got up and left one day with someone they probably shouldn't have.

I am praying for those kids, the churches, the Beams, and that country.

 Despite the distance and time apart, I am forever bound in Bolivia. 

This summer I sacrificed time with other family members, but gained another family.

I don't regret it one bit.

These kids have provided me with their own challenges, heartbreaking stories, laughter till we cry, and memories I'll keep forever.

I can only imagine the feelings I'll have once these two weeks are up, and the summer I spent every day with them is over.

I think this was the summer I needed to realize that I have the type of heart that finds people to love everywhere.

Across the globe. Across the street. 

There will always be kids I call family somewhere else, and people that are cheering me on hours and hours away. I can't be in two different states at once, and I can't fly out of the country every other week to hug the babies an ocean away.

That's why I'm thankful for Him. Because I know He has surrounded all those little ones I love, while I'm not there, to give hugs, or applaud them after winning a school bee, or make a wining shot.

That's why I am thankful for social media and technology to keep me updated on the things I am missing. Whether it's losing a tooth, having a baby, or just seeing their faces.

Sometimes I am distracted by the grains of sand spilling out in the hour glass of time I have for each place I land.

This summer is proof that even though I can't do everything I think I need to do, He provides what I need to do at the current time in order to grow.

That sand reminds me to lover harder, feel deeper, and take every moment in like it's the last.

With Tears In Mind

I was built with a foundation to feel.

Parts of me were formed with tears in mind. 

More often than not, I cry.

Don't worry, I'm not broken, not stuck in a perpetual sadness.

I just feel. 

Deeply.

Hard.

A lot. 

Some days you just gotta let me cry it out and then I'll be okay.

Other days, maybe you needed to cry too and didn't even know it. 

I can be a help in that way.

When one of our 4th grade boys tells his squad to "share the ball with them" nodding at the 1st grade.

boys, I tear up on the sidewalk like a proud mom. Cause that was a big deal.

Or when siblings might get separated and you can't do anything about it. 

Or when the body comes around you in prayer cause you miss 'home', and they remind you that they 

are your family too.

Don't get me wrong, my life is consumed with laughter just as much, if not more, than those tears... 

but sometimes I wish feeling like I do, didn't interfere with my work... or sleep... or day to day life. 

I have to be careful.

Take a step back.

Breathe. 

And understand that not everyone feels like me. 

And that's okay. 

Understand that He is the only answer, nothing I can come up with on my own will serve any situation better than He.  

I am thankful for being made this way, with tears in mind. 

I tend to rely on Him a lot more when my eyes react to the joy and the sorrow they see everyday. 

Always a Daddy's Girl

I don't know what to thank you for more, the lessons you taught me growing up, or the patience you had to have waiting for me to actually follow through with said lessons.

I wanted to do everything I could to make you proud. I still do really...

Every tree climbed, every bike ride that didn't end in a crash, all the balls dribbled and shot through a hoop - they all somehow point back to you.

I remember the prayers said every night, and the texts sent in my now twenties, reminding me I am still your little girl. I hope that never stops.

I wish some days I could be more of what you expected, uniform, more disciplined, maybe even someone who has learned how to keep her mouth shut... but then I think that would go against my upbringing. You learned all the Disney quotes, you dressed up, and did hair. You told me to be me and to show the boys what's up when challenged.

I am choosing a path that scares us, let's call it what it is. But I am so blessed that even when it is scary, you have confidence in me and are letting the reigns go.

You encouraged me without even thinking you were, to be someone who could stand on her own two feet, even if they were scraped and bleeding, and one shoe was untied!

I have a protective instinct and a fiery temper, all this from you.

Thanks for being my dad on the good days, and the hard.

No matter what, you will always be the reason I am called a 'daddy's girl'

I love you.

                                                                            -

Another beautiful reason about why we celebrate today is how you chose us to be yours. You didn't have to pick us, you didn't have to pick any of us, but you did. I can't thank you enough for that.

Countless hours spent pouring into us with the word in hand. Almost always full of answers to our endless questions. I knew then, that one day I too would want a basement full of questions from kids I would call my own even though they all went back to their own homes at the end of the night.

You have to deal with more tearful phone calls than anyone else.

You taught me how not to be average, what excellence in the eyes of our Lord should look like, and that I should challenge anyone who thinks I can't do something because I am young. Through my own insecurities and flaws you showed me that I am a masterpiece, and bang 116 day in and day out to remind all your "kids" that we should not be ashamed of the gospel or ourselves.

Somehow you are always right... and I hate that.

Blood may be thicker than water - but we drink sweet tea so that doesn't matter! You push me to be great, and I know I have pushed your buttons more often than not, but hey it's what I do best.

I do believe I get my pride and my leadership from you.

Thanks for leaving foot prints all around for me to step into myself, and really figure out what the future holds for an anomaly like me.

Love ya dude.

Dear Sunday

Dear Sunday,

I rolled into your arms for the billionth time this morning, but it felt like the first time.

The sunrise peeking through my makeshift curtain out of blankets, kissed my bare face and gave me the feeling I could take anything on in that quiet room.

I sipped on a cup of coffee, which still feels like a mix of home and adventure, while I deemed brushing my hair, and even putting on base makeup as a poor use of our time together.

I read a blog, and did a devotion under the covers about missions in my own apartment complex.

I watched a dear friend breathe while she slept on my couch.

I packed my bag for a Sunday of worship, day on the water, and a class on non - violence in the evening.

I talked to my sister and teared up cause I just love her a lot.

Dear Sunday,

I think you go unnoticed too often. But you look might fine from where I'm sitting.

Simple. Significant.

Food Stamp Nutrition

                                                                                 
Have you ever taught a group of kids about nutrition, or the importance of eating healthy? Yeah? Some of you at least.

Okay, let me ask you this.

Have you ever taught a group of kids about nutrition, or the importance of eating healthy... and have one of the boys ask you if, 'when their dad gets soda from their food stamps, and they don't get soda till their next food stamps get approved, is that enough 'healthy' time in between drinking sodas?'

This is just a glimpse into some of the stuff I see and hear daily from my kids. This is what the kids in Park Ridge, the 'ville, Oakwood Lincoln Park, etc. are dealing with when people tell them they need to eat healthier.
                                                                                   
I was in a Family Dollar on Magnolia, just a 2 minute drive from my church, to pick up some sandwich bags. It didn't take me longer than a few seconds before I realized this was a "grocery store" to way more people than you would assume. Cheap clothes, all kinds of plastic toys, food (but not the fruit and vegetable food) this food came in a box or can or wrapper, soda and energy drinks by the crate. There were 3 families in front of me and all of them were counting out change or using a check they were just given from their job. Talk about living pay check to pay check.
                                                                                   
We gave the kids $2 at Freezo - and you better believe those kids know what they can get for $2. If we would have told some kids from across town they had $2 I can guarantee you at least have of them would have thrown a fit they didn't get more, and they would have had  hard time figuring out what they could get for that much. I'm not saying those kids are worse than mine who know the amount of change in their pockets, or mine are better cause of it. I'm just trying to think out and maybe even make some sort of point in the process.

There have been several deaths in families this week. We know about the shootings, police brutality, poor grades in schools, athletics being an outlet... but what we tend to ignore is our kids getting fed, and fed well.

The last three weeks I have been trying different ways to get one particular middle school boy to eat. We as a team have talked about it, prayed about it, watched, provoked, made bets, encouraged, educated, sat back and watched, celebrated, and come home feeling defeated.

Today we celebrated. An orange for a snack, baby carrots and peanut butter, cantaloupe, takis, and he attempted a sandwich but looked at me like "please let me done" and I couldn't have been more proud.

It was beautiful.
                                                                             
The 9 boys I have in my sports rotation were given a real challenge today when I had someone else come in a teach them some soccer basics. He even told them it was more internationally famous than basketball AND football. No one believed him - welcome to urban youth in america. But we struggled and almost broke our ankles together. Despite the fact we may never be soccer players - we gave 100% and that's all I asked of them today haha cause soccer is hard y'all!

hidden in the margins

making unfamiliar streets, my streets

a borrowed book

a porch swing with the early morning sun

falling asleep next to your best friend

walking a couple blocks to work 

sitting on counter tops, till the crickets are asleep,

conversing about it all

whole albums, not singles

being honest in my faults

attempts at being a minimalist 

saying, I love you, and hearing it back

pimps that get second chances 

new friends 

not posting ish like the rest of the Christians,

cause I believe what Jesus said, not those others

understanding myself well enough to throw my hands up,

and being able to call myself out

saying I'm sorry, and meaning it

paying rent

success stories you never saw coming 

learning what the word lonely means

being intentional, and failing at it

facing your fears and still turning around to run after you took a step forward

news headlines 

groceries

a sweet maintenance man 

Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday

the beauty 

the opportunity

this life

me

hidden in the margins