Throwback Thursday, literally

I made a To Do list upon arriving in Grenoble, and then completely forgot about it. But I found it today, just one week before I leave to go back to Oregon. I went into convulsions reading it because I cannot believe how many of these things I actually got done! A few things never happened, but most of it did! And the craziest part of it all is that most of it happened so much different than how I imagined it would when I originally wrote it down on this piece of paper. God is so funny. And he works everything out for his glory and our good.

Acts

I think that, out of all the words I know how to use in the English language, the word I say the least is "obedience." It literally hurts to say that word. Like I'm experiencing heartburn or choking. And now I realize why it's so uncomfortable to spit that word out! I don't like the idea of it. I like being in control, being my own boss, doing my own thing. But how can I say I follow Christ if I refuse to... obey him. ouch. It's so painful to admit it, but I don't like to obey. The concept of doing something just because someone told me to do it kills me. 

So yesterday I tried an experiment. Horrified with the realization that my heart is so rebellious towards God, I decided to act. The entire day I just listened for what the Spirit was asking me to do. And I was surprised because they were actions that I have the opportunity to carry out every day, but I just don't. But they were actions. So many times I view our Christian calling as intangible. It's all about blessing others, speaking words of hope, touching hearts. But yesterday when I deliberately decided to obey the voice of the Lord, I found myself doing things. I had to use my hands, my feet, my words, my money, my time. And it was incredible. The reward that follows is a peace that passes all understanding.

Imagination Is Insufficiant

A week ago, I had no idea what was in store for the days to come. Who knew that I would find a group from Couchsurfing.org to go outdoor bouldering with, learn to lead climb in a rock gym, do a via ferrata in the Alps, and then get to lead climb outdoors the next day. 

That life. I can't get enough of it. 

Not only did I do all of the above, but I did it all in the context of French. Which means all of the climbing and technical terms involved in the process were French words. And, in the moments where I was most terrified, I had to explain myself in French, because all of their words of advice and encouragement were in French. Yikes. Just imagine how fast that could go downhill if I mixed up my verbs and vocab. Praise the Lord, I'm alive.

All that to say.... this has been an incredible week! I am so grateful for the amazing opportunities and the cool people that God sent my way.

Le Petit Desert, Vercors

Via Ferrata de Saint Hilaire du Touvet, Chartreuse

Les Trois Poucelles, Vercors

Cheers to conquering our fears

Doors

When I pray for clarity, wanting God to shed light on a certain subject matter, I'm begging him to give a black and white answer. But sometimes I forget what exactly black and white entails. God could open the door wide open, making it obvious for me to step inside. But if he were to slam the door shut in my face, that is also a black and white answer. When God says no, he is being just as faithful to respond to my prayers. It's a funny thought, but for me it's hard to wrap my mind around.
Take today for example. I've been praying for a few weeks about whether or not I should stay longer in France. I had no idea if it was him calling me to actually stay longer, or if he was just testing my heart's willingness to obey in the event that he did ask me to stay. So I asked him to make it obvious what the next step was. And he did.
I visited the Prefecture's office today and they took one look at my visa and explained to me that I was given a "special" visa. My special visa does not allow for any prolongation and absolutely no exception can be made. I have to leave France before it expires and I cannot reenter France until I go back to the US and reapply for another titre de sejour.
So that's that. God slammed that door shut. Praise the Lord. Because the truth is he was faithful to answer me- when I asked for a black and white answer, he responded with just that!
And while I am left confused and feeling small, I have that sense of peace that supersedes my understanding.

Snapshot of my afternoon in the park

I came home from school today, exhausted as always, and there was only one thing I wanted to do. I grabbed my Bible and my (borrowed) guitar and headed to the park. I sat down in the grass and prayed it wouldn't pour down rain because I have no guitar case, and of course Jesus held it back for a few hours so I could play away. Lots of people would stop and listen, some would come sit by me, and a few came up to talk to me. I love the random things people say and do, it's one of the reasons I love life so much. And let me tell you, one of the few who stopped to talk left me laughing so hard I wanted to cry. It wasn't because he said anything humorous, it was the fact that our entire conversation from start to finish was so Jesus. And yes, parts were so awkwardly hilarious that I was dying inside, but in the end all I can say is that it was Jesus.

Now that I just described that in the most ambiguous way possible, let me say how it all went down. Note: this all happened in French, so know that this is my best effort at translation.

French dude rides up on his motorcycle, I'm just there sitting in the grass, strumming and singing away.

"Uhh... are you depressed?"

Me- "Excuse me?"

"Are you depressed? You know, sad?"

"No not at all! I'm actually really happy."

"Then how come you're all by yourself in the middle of a park playing guitar?"

"Well, because this is my favorite thing in the whole world to do."

"Do you write your songs?"

"Sure thing."

So he asks me to play one and I do. I told him I only sing in English and he told me he doesn't understand very much English at all. He really liked the song, and apparently, understood it too.

"I think it's about God being in control of everything, yeah?"

Me- "Exactly!"

For a moment he looks thoughtful. Then he just looks at me with a "hmmm" expression. I don't know how else to describe it, it's just a kind of face that French people make.

Then the usual. An invitation to go to a party, I tell him no thanks, he says, "Oh you don't go to parties?"

"Nope. Never, actually." 

"So you're not that kind of girl then?" 

"nope."

He looks impressed. Not impressed as in "woah!" but in the sense that the very thought left an impact on him.

"So I guess I won't get to see you again then?"
I smile. "Sorry."

"But I'm here all the time, I mean playing guitar in the park is my favorite thing to do, remember? So you'll probably see me around."

He looks doubtful, then smiles and says it was nice to meet you. He drives off, and well, I start laughing. So loud. 

I don't know why, but I just know that Jesus was there. I think that somehow, some way, said French dude did some soul searching in that moment. I was just happy to witness it.

Paragliding. It happened.

It's not extremely normal for me to throw down 95 euros to do a one-time thing, but for some reason, I decided paragliding would be more than worth it- and it was!!

When we (my guide and I) jumped off the cliff and entered the realm of midair, I was so overcome with wonder and joy that I started laughing! My guide kept asking me if I was ok, because I would randomly break out into uncontrollable laughter. But it was all I could do. Words weren't enough. Even silence- my go-to expression in moments of awe and admiration- wasn't sufficient. So I just laughed. The Chaîne de Belledone to my left, Chartreuse to my right, and Vercors on the horizon... I could see it all.

The view was unbelievable, that is for certain. But I cannot begin to describe how it felt to float in the air. It was as if gravity didn't exist. Of course it was gravity that softly pulled us in a downward spiral, but there was nothing forceful about it. I felt so exposed to the elements, to life itself.

Then, when my guide asked if I was cool with doing some acrobatics, my life turned upside down, literally. As we somersaulted in the sky, I remember thinking, "This is what it means to be alive." I would do anything to relive that moment. I hope that someday I can. It was short-lived, somewhere between 15 and 20 minutes. But in that time, I felt like I was truly living.

And when I landed, it was back to reality. 

Like waking up from a dream, I wondered if it really happened.

Either way, I'll not be content to just let the moments of life pass me by. I want to feel alive!

Chocolate and wine on my balcony

I think it's interesting that whenever I am by myself in the world, separated from the safety and solace of my Christian bubble back home, I am most likely to draw closer to the Lord. 

Maybe it's because I'm more desperate for him once the support of my friends, church, and family is knocked out from under me. Maybe it's just me imagining things. But I like it. I like knowing that God's got me in the palm of his hand. 

But in the same moment, I really really miss my friends, my church, and my family. I miss those foundational things in life that made me who I am. I couldn't be more grateful.

When words will never be enough, we will say them anyway.

I don't know what to say. Every time I sit down and start to spill what my heart wants to say, it feels so wrong. Like bad grammar or broken English. It doesn't sound out on paper the way I hear it on the inside. All this to say, I experienced incredible things during my 10 days in Ireland. Completing the Wicklow Way was the sort of dream you just assume will never happen to you, because it's too beautiful to turn into reality. But it happened, and I have pictures to prove it!
I met people whose kindness made me rethink the cynical way I view the world; their warm and friendly ways gave me fresh hope for humanity.
I sat on a cliff for 4 hours, just staring into the eyes of the Atlantic Ocean. Jesus sat there with me too. He's the only person I know who would do that- just sit there in silence with me, perfectly content to be in the presence of that kind of majesty.
I also met a lot of lost people. People who have no eyes to see the beauty spread out before them. People who think that good beer, long nights, and lots of friends are as good as it gets. And those are all great things that make life enjoyable, but they are shadows that would instantly disappear in the presence of light. Jesus Christ, knowing him, walking in the presence of the Father of Lights- the moment you wake up to that reality, even the "good" things in life lose that title.
I'm overwhelmed at the opportunity to travel in the country of my dreams. It was everything I ever wanted it to be and more.
Every good and perfect gift comes from the Father of Lights (James 1:17). This was a GOOD gift. And even then, it's probably only a shadow of the good that is still to come.

Ready, set, nomad!

As I sit facing a window at the Denver airport I'm amazed at how suddenly I find myself on the verge of a new adventure. I mean, this summer has been so good and I want to take a moment to just reflect on that alone- that these past few months in Oregon have been awesome.
But now I'm en route to France and I don't even feel ready for what's coming my way. Hoping that God moves mightily, maybe He'll choose to use me, and many people will see Jesus.
Yaaaaaa I'm going back!!!!

Pause. Unpause.

Change is ALWAYS bittersweet. Even when you are overly eager to shake the dust off your feet and escape far, far away (like leaving Greenville) - you always leave a piece of you behind. 

My first year in Seattle was not easy. But it was beautiful and worth it. I've had to say a lot of goodbyes in my life, but this time it's different because it's not permanent. I'm headed back to my hometown for the summer, perhaps my final summer spent in Medford, and then I'm off to France! I am so excited because I know God is calling me back to France. I have complete peace that He is leading me by the hand back to the land I love. But I will return in January to Seattle. I hope it will be like pressing the pause button, and that when I come back everything will resume just as I left it. But I'm not that naïve. I know I will sort of have to start anew. But that's okay, that's the essence of life. 

I am so thankful for the family God placed me in this year. My community group was home in a strange place. Mars Hill is so dear to my heart, and I cannot wait to return next winter and pick up where I left off.

But for now, I will have the time of my life counseling kids at Camp Bradley, spending endless nights with my best friends, and enjoying the Rogue Valley for all its worth. 

Then, I'm off again to pursue my French dreams. I only want two things out of this trip: 1) to become fluent in French, and 2) to tell French people about Jesus.

Easier said than done.

For now, here's a pic from last weekend. A couple from my church family got married, and it was a beautiful sight to behold. 

What an honor to play at such a lovely wedding.

Found

Every once in a while I feel like the prodigal son.
But that's not realistic because EVERY day I am like the prodigal son.
Jesus always takes us back, he rejoices over us.

It's my last day of being a teenager.

Age 19 was a fun run. It was different, it was filled with goodness, it was quirky, and now it's over. 

I got to spend the summer with my best friends, and that by itself is a cumulonimbous cloud of a blessing. 

The week I spent counseling at Camp Bradley was precious, and getting to know the Applegate family on a deeper level over summer and Christmas break brought so much joy. 

I got to transfer to my dream school and live in my dream city. I got to become a member of a church I've always wanted to attend. 

I got to meet my hero, Deogratias. (He's the one Strength In What Remains was written about - the Rwanda/Burundi genocide survivor).

I got to see my favorite band play a hometown show, now my home too. 

I drove across America with my dad, the greatest escape of my life- I sometimes call it the Exodus of Illinois. 

On returning to the Great Northwest, I hiked and backpacked and ran until my mountain appetite was satisfied. 

In so many ways, I lived my dream at 19. Well, what I thought was my dream. I actually came across a new dream: to achieve greatness. Because, "Greatness is walking with God." And now, on the eve of my 20th birthday, I realize that is all I want in this life.