I Remember... The Day My Little World Ended.

It was 2 a.m. and I laid there staring at the ceiling.
6 little people were stacked around me breathing slowly and steadily. Each had their own little night persona:
John: The Throat Clearer
Jeremiah: The Snorer
Abigail: The Teeth Grinder/Smacker
Lexi: The Talker
Justice: The Cougher
Jackson: The Kicker
"How annoying," I thought. "How the heck am I suppose to get any sleep around here? " I jumped off of my bunk bed just barely missing my little brother who was sprawled out on the floor below. A lego stabbed the bottom of my foot. I stumbled blindly toward my walk-in-closet. Finally I found the door knob, but not before I smashed the life out of my baby toe on a wooden bedpost.
Words ran through my head... Angry words... 2 a.m. is not a graceful hour by any means.

I switched on the light to my closet and sat there on the floor pondering the last 6 weeks of my life.

6 weeks had past since I said goodbye to my childhood.

I remembered the morning I left, waking up in my best friends bedroom. The look in her eye as I said goodbye. The tight squeeze that she gave me before I climbed into the car.

I remembered my older brother. His huge hug and raspy voice as he said goodbye to his whole family. Never again would his life be the same either.

I remembered walking around in my empty house that last morning: reliving memories, hearing familiar voices, smelling the smells of home.

I remembered all too vividly the tears in my grandmother's eyes and the enormous lump in my throat as I said goodbye to her lovely face, not knowing when I would see her next.

I remembered the last Sunday at my church in Wichita: the tears, the hugs, the prayers, the encouragement.

I remember feeling like there were no more tears left inside of me. I remember feeling like I would never sleep soundly again. I remember feeling like the light inside of me was dying.

Before I knew it, I was on the floor in my little closet crying and wishing I could just have my best friend with me that very moment. Or run over to give my grandma a hug. Anything to feel home again.

My thoughts continued...

I remembered the long nights my dad put in to get my family moved. The extra trip he squeezed in to get all of our stuff here. The heavy boxes he lifted. The ounces of sweat he poured out.

I remembered his smiling face every morning. His big loud encouraging voice getting my family through the long painful 2 day trip down here.

I remembered that my dad heard God's call on his life. A very specific call. And just like Moses and Abraham, he was following His lead.

I remembered my momma's busy hands preparing food. Washing what seemed like a million loads of laundry. I remembered her quiet but strong spirit. The glue to my family.

I remembered the evening we arrived in Mississippi. Seeing the magnolias blooming on the trees. Feeling the moisture in the air hit me after being in the car so long.

I remembered moving again after just 2 weeks of being here.

I remembered the the homeless people walking around on the streets at our first home in MS. I was lucky to have a home.

I remembered the day we ran out of money and there was a check in the mail box. I was lucky to have food.

I remembered the family that lived in our apartment complex a few doors down. A family from another country who moved here with nothing but the clothes on their backs. They were here because God pulled at their hearts and said "follow ME!" And they came.

Suddenly in those wee hours of the night it dawned on me. God is using the people around me to show me how big life really is. These people are giving up their jobs, their social statuses, their savings accounts, their personal space, and all of their worldly American dreams to serve God.
It's not about school. It's not about seminary. It's not about a graduate degree. It's about serving God with everything that they have. It's about following the path that God has set before them.
Many people want to serve. And so many people pray to God saying, "Here I am Lord, send me!" But do they really mean it? If God sent you would you go? If God said to you, "Go! Leave everything that you know and love and serve Me in a foreign land." Would you really go?
I sure wouldn't. Or at least not on my own. I would have never given up my room, space, friends or life without God dragging me down here to show me what I needed to see.
It really is life changing to see people so focused on following Christ and bringing glory to His name and sharing the gospel to other people that the other things of the world just fade away.
I hope that one day I will be able to be like these people. I hope that I will dedicate every breath that He has given me to loving people and serving God in whatever He has called me to do.
I went to bed that night grateful for the things that I was experiencing. Yes, I was sharing my bedroom. But so were my siblings. I realized that there was so much more to my life than a bedroom of my own.
God is calling me to a higher purpose, He has called me to give up personal space and property to take a look at the deeper meaning of life. He is pushing me outside of my comfort zone so that I can see what it means to totally rely on Christ for my needs.

A few months ago my secure little world fell apart. I never thought I would say this... But that was probably the best things that has ever happened to me.
God is SO much bigger than I ever can imagine.
~Matthew 6: 24
“No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money."

From 'Toto' to 'Ghetto'

"This ain't Kansas anymore, Boo." The words hit me with fresh coldness and new sting... Like I hadn't heard that before. "Down he'uh in da' south, we do thangs differently.... DOROTHY!". Fire flew into my eyes. I was sick of 'Oz' jokes. I was sick of being called dorothy. And I was very sick of being treated like an innocent nobody from Little House on the Prairie. I looked up into the dark eyes, "I've noticed," I replied. My eyes then shifted to the rest of his features. Deep wrinkles gathered around his eyes. His dark skin was covered in scars. His coarse black hair was more than a little gray. This man was probably my dads age or older and he'd lived a hard life. He washed dishes in a messy kitchen for a living. But he was one of the few people that actually had a job. My expression softened, suddenly I felt bad for messing up his dish washing method. "I'm very sorry, I will try to remember how you do it next time."  As I walked away I looked around me. 3 guys were beat boxing and rapping in the corner. "Mama" the salad maker was slowly making salads. The line of cooks in the back were yelling and laughing back and forth. It was so loud. But everyone was happy. Everyone was getting along. Where was I?  The ghetto. That was the only conclusion I could come to. A place where certain roads are off limits because of the area of town. Doors must always be locked even while driving. If you can't find it in the store you might as well give up,  because no one else has time to help you or knows how to help you. Pants are worn around the thighs and flat billed hats sit on TOP of your corn rows. My friendly small town of Derby, Kansas has now been replaced by Jackson , Mississippi: a town deeply rooted in southern tradition, segregation, and way of life. Cowboys are replaced with homeboys. Tea means sweet. Sweet means sugar... lots of sugar. Pop has disappeared and is replaced with coke. Chicken is everywhere you go. Chicken is always fried. And music has 2 genres: Rap and bluegrass.   Culture shock you ask? Maybe a tiny bit. ;) But I will adjust. I just have to keep plugging away. Alllllll day, erryday.   

My Twisted Shapes

Change, the word strikes fear into the very core of my soul. It grabs me by the foundations to which I hold, and shakes me until the cord of strength that binds me together snaps. Now I am broken. There is no hope for me. The bits and pieces of my life that once were so perfectly knit together are now scattered around me. They are twisted and deformed into shapes that I cannot identify. I pick them up, put them back together, and try to move on. But I am never the same. The pieces are different, they appear to be wrong. I have changed. The world is constantly changing. The evolution and growth of humanity plus the circle of life itself equals change. People die, relationships break, and best friends move away. A good friend once said to me, "People change. You change. I change. We are all constantly changing. The truth is I am not the same person that I was 6 months ago. Neither are you." This statement is so true. Nothing ever stays the same way for long. I for one, hate change, I kick, I cry and I do everything I possibly can to avoid it. Yet still I change. Countless times I have sat down and cried for fear of the unknown. For this is the root of the problem. I am not afraid of adventure. I am not afraid to grow up. I fear not knowing what lies ahead of me. I fear failure, I fear pain, I fear losing relationships, and I fear forgetting. I never want to forget where I came from or what I stand for. I never want to forget the changes that made me who I am. These are the changes that are essential to our world. The positive changes that shape life and beauty into its proper form. In actuality all change carves us into who we are. But the question is whether the change has built us up strong, or if it has bent us over and made us weak. I have learned over time that even through terribly hard situations we can be made strong. We can be forced to carry a weight so heavy that it feels as if we are about to break. What we don't realize is that these are the times that build our characters up and make us strong. I believe that we all need to have change in order to have effective growth in our lives. It has taken me many years to understand this. As much as I hate change when it is happening, in the end I am very grateful that it has happened to me. I have learned to pick up the individual twisted and deformed shapes of my life and fit them back together. Yes I am different. Yes I have changed. But now I am more beautiful because of it.