I must love middle schoolers

If you were asked to look in my backpack right now you wouldn't find the usual college girl items.

There's a binder full of schedules, a handbook, and rules I'm supposed to follow as an Americorps member. Which some of the kids and I like to call #protocol 

Some paper work with kids information.

Brand new expo markers I forgot to put upstairs in the class room, so when my 8th graders ask me for help with their algebraic equations, I can write them on a dry erase wall. 

They need to see things bigger picture sometimes. Visual. Audible. I am in no way a teacher, but I know what it's like to hate math. 

The folder Sam made me, which I love with my whole heart. 

Meant for the service and culture rotation we had this summer. 

Hands holding different flowers. It's perfect. 

ADHD medicine can be found in another pocket. 

Cause 4'o clock is harder for some than others. We don't love them any less. 

However, we do make sure the pill is swallowed and a high five is given.  

A destroyed planner covered with pictures of family. 

Full of assignments due from last year, weekend trips planned, reminders, parties, breaks, etc. 

Oh and a picture of two girls faces from the photo copier!

Now it's August. A new planner is on the way. 

It will find it's home next to confiscated Lego's, takis, extra shoes to play ball, artwork, candy wrappers and other trash I somehow end up collecting, among other things!

This can only mean one thing...

I must love middle schoolers! 

I actually love them so much, I decided to stay at Emerald Ave through the school year. 

Surprise! 

Stay tuned for more victories, big and small. Adventures. Life lessons. Straight up failures. 

The good, bad, and ugly, that comes with being a family at EA. 

Cause being a middle schooler ain't easy y'all. 

Here's to a school year full of "WHAT ARE THOSE?!"

Apartment 8

An open letter to those who get to live in apartment 8 after were gone.

Yes, the door is shut... no it won't close anymore if you lean on it. We kind of like it halfway open like that anyway...

No, you won't fall through that spot in the floor close to the tub... you might have, had our awesome maintenance man not come and fix the leak though. You're welcome. 

You may not smoke, but your neighbors below do. Which is basically the same thing. Candles were our go to, but after awhile you get used to your clothes smelling like smoke and you continue on.

The water heater was fixed about a month or so ago... but if something happens, expect the oven to be in the living room for awhile why our awesome maintenance man fixes it. 

Your neighbors can hear everything. I think that's why people keep their doors open most days... they gave up "being quiet" awhile ago. Plus... who pays for AC anyway. 

Sorry the front closet rack is jank... we don't know either.

The wifi password is actually the length of the Mississippi river.

Oh and if you want to talk to someone at the front desk... just forget that was even an idea. I don't even believe there is a front desk. 

These aren't complaints by any means. This is just me letting you know what we didn't, and eventually learned. Learned to love, and learned to live alongside some really cool people. 

Get to know the people in your building if nothing else. Their stories, hellos, good mornings, and late night conversations, are some of my favorite memories of being in apartment 8. You can't find a more diverse group of people than an east side apartment complex. 

That stoop, and the sidewalk around the side of the building is where I saw God this summer. Where I called home when things were hard, or a victory was made. It was also where I got to play in the rain with my roommates and read a book about stepping into the unknown. 

I'm glad I stepped into the unknown this summer, where I had a place to end and start my days well. 

Be thankful for the leaky shower. Be thankful for apartment 8. And the things you will experience while you live there. Maybe you have a family to take care of. Maybe you're here looking for work and your seasons change faster than others. Maybe you have roommates like us. Regardless, embrace the glorious mess that is your neighborhood. The gardens, the park, the windy streets that have powerful names like Selma and the like. 

As I spend my last days here I can't help but look back on the unknown blessing this place would be to me. The relationships I have with my roommates is something I can't express the thankfulness. Abby, Grace, and Lauren, you three are beautiful souls, game changers, peace makers, kingdom builders, and so much more. I am thankful for the countless cookies made, the prayer nights, adventures, workouts, game nights, late night talks, movie nights, jazz, making dinner together, coffee and tea shared, quiet mornings being encouraged by your devotions or just simple comments made. I could go on and on. This summer was full of crazy schedules, but the time we spent together in apartment 8 is time I can truly "Praise God" for! 

J

I didn’t have to carry those boxes or backpacks.     J could have managed & Granny is tougher than people like me give her credit for.     I helped anyway.    Walked the several blocks from the park to their home.   Even took the cut behind the townhouses.   Granny told us to walk ahead of her cause of “long legs” but we both knew it was her asthma.  

Next came something real special.  

This young man walking beside me was telling me how he’s gonna keep his head in the books this year.   He’s “gonna get good grades, and find a job that hires a fourteen year old black kid.”    It’s unfortunate that he knows somehow that will make a difference.   “I need to save money so I can go to Y and train so I can make the football team… and not be bored.   It’s so boring here.”    I asked him how he thought he would get to the Y and back since it’s not close.   Of course the bus was J’s answer, no surprise there.  

Next question was “If you could, what would you do to make your neighborhood not boring?”  “Well I would want a place to help kids with their homework, and like a pool to swim in… and like a place for kids with disabilities ya know?”   He paused for a really long time.    “Maybe when people need help finding homes I can help them do that too?”

He opened the screen door and I had no idea how we got there so fast.    I wiped the tear that had fallen without permission.   He took the handful of boxes and backpacks I carried, gave me a hug and ran upstairs.    I don’t know how many of our boys will go to college, get their dream jobs, or even out live me. I don’t know if what I say to them, every time, gets through. All I know is that I have to keep loving them, and encouraging them.    J’s goals used to be very different.    Not bad, but now he is thinking of others instead of just himself.   He was thinking about giving back.   Making an impact, a difference.   He was thinking about more than the hoop or the corner.   And you know what?

I couldn’t be more proud. 

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.