Tuesday, March 23, 2010


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Wednesday, February 24, 2010

knowing and loving

it is mind-boggling to me how much the acts of knowing someone and loving someone has changed in recent decades.

in this age of internet, facebook, blogging, twitter, etc. we have reached a point where i can converse with someone, share photos, share stories, share secrets, and yet never see them face to face.

even still, there are people half way around the world whom i have looked straight in the eye, and yet never exchanged a word.

what does it mean to know someone? is it accumulating facts and figures about someone, being able to note how they drink their coffee? is it simply seeing someone, for who they are, where they are? or is it some combination of both?

and to take it a step further, which of these types of knowledge can lead to love? these people i've seen and never known may hold just as much of my heart as the people that i know but don't see.

and with these different types of knowledge and love, my heart and my mind have started to form this web across the world, linking me with people and places half a world away...

more to come.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

A New Normal: Reflections on an Adventure in Haiti


I took a trip with 11 of my peers to a town called Passe Catabois, Haiti. It was scheduled to be 10 days, leaving January 8, 2010 and returning to Seattle on January 18, 2010. That did not happen as planned. On January 12th, an earthquake hit Haiti near the capital city of Port-au-Prince at a magnitude of 7.0. It was catastrophic. Passe Catabois is approximately 100 miles north of the epicenter, so the quake was not as strong and did not cause as much damage there, but it was felt none-the-less. The week to follow was filled with over 50 aftershocks of magnitude 4.5 or higher.

Before the earthquake, Haiti was a nation of poverty, being the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere, with most Haitians living on less than $2 a day. Haiti has also been plagued by corruption throughout its history. Post-earthquake, nearly a third of the Haitian population has lost everything. Buildings are destroyed, lives lost, families torn apart, government devastated. 200,000 are estimated dead, another 200,000 injured, 1 million children without one or more parents, over 1 million homeless, and hundreds of thousands fleeing the city for the countryside, 90% of schools destroyed.

My Experience:

We left, as planned, for Haiti on January 8th. We spent the day traveling, and spent the night in Miami before catching a morning flight to Port-au-Prince. Flying low coming in for a landing, we could see the city from our window: large beautiful buildings intertwined with slums. And when we stepped off the plane a sweet smell filled my nose. It's the kind of smell you can only have in a place like this, that hasn't yet been destroyed by industry and corporate greed, a place that survives by the sweat of their brow and the hope in their hearts.

From there we took a smaller plane to Port-de-Paix and a pick-up truck to Passe Catabois where we got settled in the guest house at Bruce and Deb's. Sunday was filled with rain, church, and a feast of Haitian proportions courtesy of a Pastor's family. Monday and Tuesday brought more rain, which forced us to forgo our plans of working in Foison, a small town about 30 minutes away. A few of us got to accompany Deb on an outing to visit some of her neighbors who had been through some major life events recently: what I like to call "New Testament Ministry" in action. We visited a woman who was sick, and we read Scripture together, and we prayed. We had other tasks of organizing and cleaning the shop and guest house, and we got a lot done, but after two days of not getting to do what we had come there to do, we were a bit discouraged.

Then, at 4:53pm local time, on Tuesday January 12, we felt the earth shake. It shook us, and the walls, and lasted about 35 seconds. The magnitude at which we felt the quake 100 miles from the epicenter was about 5.5, and we were fortunate to escape with no damage or injuries. There was some damage in Port-de-Paix, the city nearest us, but the quake was most devastating to Port-au-Prince.

In the days and nights following the quake, our hearts ached with every aftershock that we felt and knew was stronger in Port-au-Prince. We were without internet and mainstream media outlets, but were kept fairly updated on news from Bruce and Deb, who know lots of people in Port-au-Prince, and were eager to be as much help to people as they could. We heard stories of utter devastation as well as stories of hope. We sang together, as we heard stories of Haitians singing together well through the night.

When the earthquake hit, all commercial travel came to a halt. From that moment on Tuesday, our time in Haiti was up in the air. We had no idea when we would be able to get home. American Airlines had us tentatively on a flight on January 23, but they kept pushing back the date they were going to fly again. For the most part, we couldn't communicate with our families and friends. We had very limited access to email to let people know we were safe and not to worry, but that was the extent of it. Bruce worked tirelessly to find us a way out of the country that would keep us safe the whole way through.

We spent Wednesday-Friday in Foison at a church/school campus, doing the work we had come to do. We spent time digging a trench to run wiring to get electricity to a computer center, and surveying land to mark out a solid foundation for a new school building. We also spent time playing with children and working alongside the people of the community of Foison. We got to see the spark ignite in their hearts for the hope of something big to happen in their lives.

Saturday we were given a reprieve in the form of a visit to the beach. After almost a week of devastation and uncertainty, we got a break and got to swim in the beautiful Caribbean Sea. It was just the refreshment to our spirits that we all needed that day. And to top it off, we returned for dinner to find a finely prepared turkey dinner complete with stuffing, green beans, potatoes and pumpkin pie for dessert. It was the perfect touch of home that we had all been longing to feel.

Sunday was an experience in and of itself. We were invited to attend church in Passe Catabois and to sing a couple songs for the congregation. Experiencing church in another country is always a profound experience for me, but to be amongst a group of people who are grieving and suffering in a time of pain in their country adds an entirely new dynamic. These people mourned, they cried out in desperation, and then they praised God for what they have. Most of them had lost loved ones, had seen lives torn apart, and yet they were still thankful for the provisions that they had, no matter how small. They talked about how faithful God has been to them, through corruption, through natural disasters, through trial after trial. In Haiti, they sing out of hymn books, some in Creole, some in French, and we had the books right in front of us, which allowed us to participate in their praise, which filled my heart with so much emotion I can't convey it in words.

By Monday, January 18th, our plans for leaving the country were as finalized as they were going to get. We spent Monday preparing rations for our journey, packing up supplies that Bruce would be sending to Port-au-Prince, consolidating our luggage into just 5 bags for our team of 12, and cleaning up the guest house. The specifics of our plan were to remain secret from all except those directly involved to ensure the safest transit possible. So after one last dinner, lots of prayer, and hugs all around, we turned in for the night.

At 5:45am on Tuesday, we had a pickup truck packed up with 17 people and 7 suitcases and we hit the road. The first leg of our journey was a 70 mile truck ride from Passe Catabois to a port city called Cap-Haitien. The drive was along the northern coast up through mountains and towns along the way. The condition of the roads was terrible, with one flat tire and periodic stops for us to get out and walk because the truck would not make it with us all in it. All in all, it took us 9.5 hours to get to Cap-Haitien. It was a sight for sore eyes and rest for weary bodies when we finally pulled into the Hope Center, a place run by a missionary couple that had volunteered to house us for the night. They welcomed us with dinner, warm(er) showers, and soft beds. They prayed with us for the rest of our trip, fed us breakfast the next morning, and sent us on our way.

Wednesday we set off for the Cap-Haitien International Airport to *hopefully* get on a flight. Bruce and Deb had been working diligently to try to charger a flight with Missionary Flights. We got to the airport and basically had to wait around to see if Missionary Flights would fly that day. We had a close call in which what we thought was our plane landed, and then took off without us. There was the slightest doubt in the back of our minds that we would even get on a flight, and dread of the possibility that we might have to wait again the next day. But alas! Our plane finally arrived. Around 2pm we were loaded up into a DC-3, a piece of aviation history, built in 1944. We breathed a sigh of relief. We were one step closer to home.

Fuel in Haiti had become scarce, because all vessels were still struggling to port with supplies for aid, let alone the other necessities, so we set off for Turks & Caicos Islands near the Bahamas to refuel. We landed there and were welcomed with a feast. People from the island had gotten together to donate pizza, sandwiches, cookies, cupcakes, and beverages for anyone stopping there on their way to or from Haiti, as their way of helping with the relief efforts. After lunch, we loaded back up and watched the sun set from the air over the world below us.

We landed on American soil around 8:45pm in Fort Pierce, FL and were greeted by a contingency from Deb's home church in Boca Raton. They bought us all dinner at Wendy's, and then drove us an hour and a half to Boca Raton and housed us all for the night in various homes. They got us breakfast in the morning, and bought us commuter train tickets to Miami, where we hoped to get on flights back to Seattle. Once we reached the airport, we got some of our first glimpses of the devastation from news channels that were airing footage. We managed to get on flights to Chicago, and then through to Seattle.

Our arrival in Seattle was full of relief. We had 3 solid days of travel, everyone was exhausted, and we were all glad to be home. We walked out of the terminal to find a gathering of parents, friends and loved ones waiting to greet us. There were even welcome home signs. The entire trip home took 63 hours and 23 minutes, door to door. And we felt almost every minute of it.

My Reflections:

I went into this trip grieving the loss of a good friend. I tried to set that aside to be fully present in Haiti, but after a few days, it became apparent that it wasn't beneficial for me to do that. I spent most of the first half of the trip in a complete daze, and finally, after the earthquake, I just broke down. I cried, and I journaled and I let as much out as I could.

I started the trip feeling pretty angry with God, not wanting to engage. I think the biggest thing that I learned through this experience is that God is faithful. He is there and he will be glorified in everything, even in experiences of great pain and suffering.

I was also amazed by the people who came around us to support us and get us home safely. Not only did we have people in Haiti that helped us along our journey, we had complete strangers in Turks & Caicos feed us and encourage us, and strangers in Florida feed us and house us. And then I think of all the people across the country that know us and were praying for us, people who were worried, people who called each other to share updates, and people who posted words of support and encouragement on our Facebook pages and emails. It overwhelms me still to think of how much love, support, encouragement and prayer carried us through the mountains of Haiti.

It was a complete blessing to spend time with Bruce and Deb, to see how they live and how they minister to the people around them. It was encouraging to hear advice from them, to see how they seek God in every moment, and to feel like we had become a family. I would and did trust them with my life.

I came out of this trip with a clearer vision for the person that I want to be, and for the calling that I have on my life. I've been so preoccupied with how I can "prepare" to be a missionary in some far off country. The best thing that Bruce said to me was that you can't prepare for the mission field. Nothing can get you ready for the experiences you'll have there. The only thing you can do is seek God. The deeper you know Him and his word, the more prepared you are. Hearing that was freeing.

In coming home, I've also felt guilty. At no moment in this trip did I ever feel unsafe (except of course during the earthquake itself). And to have people greet me and tell me how worried they were, or how much they prayed, was intense for me, because I didn't feel like I deserved it. There are millions of people in Haiti that are so much worse off than we were that could have used the prayer. But then I remind myself of all that could have gone wrong. The earthquake could have easily been closer to us. If we had tried to fly out of Port-au-Prince we could have been attacked or raided for our provisions. We would have seen all the devastation firsthand. If we had taken another road to Cap-Haitien we could have been attacked or raided. We could have been stuck without travel plans for weeks. All those people that were praying for us got us out safely, I firmly believe that.

As I reflect on the entirety of the trip, this metaphor strikes me. Haiti has been so overcome by corruption, devastation from natural disasters, famine, slavery, etc. for so many years. I'm not saying the earthquake was a good thing, by any means. But the fact is that it happened. And Haiti has a huge opportunity to rebuild the country on better foundations. Buildings in Port-au-Prince were not built to sustain the damage from events like this. Haitians have the opportunity now to build their country on God, to build firm foundations that will withstand trials. It is amazing that we were given the opportunity to be there, to see Haiti. It is even more amazing that we went there to build a foundation that would be sound and that the people could build on and have it be good. I see a turning on Haiti's horizon. And I pray for a revival.

In one word, Haiti was an adventure. Clearly I can't take back the earthquake, but I wouldn't change anything from the experience I had of being in the country. I have fallen in love with the people there, with the hope they have in their hearts, and with the possibility they see in their future, despite all of the obstacles they have in their way. And now, as I am home, my struggle is to find a "new normal" in which I can be proud to live, and which honors God and all of his people.

Saturday, December 26, 2009


i made a realization today.

every time i come home i think about all the great things about this place. i glamorize it in my mind and get to the point where i even kind of miss it at times. when it gets really intense i even sometimes wish i could go back.

now, i don't really feel this way about home. i'm happy to be gone and i'm happy with the life i've cultivated for myself. so it can be somewhat disconcerting when i get to the point of missing it.

the realization comes in this: i don't actually miss this place, nor do i want to come back. the feeling that i get isn't a desire to have it back at all. it is a feeling of safety and comfort and of familiarity.

that's what gets me every time.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

my story...so far (warning: this is a level -1)

lately i've been thinking a lot about who i am, how i got here, who God is, and what he's done in my life. and i've been struck with the desire to write it down. so i'll start from the beginning. this is all of it. the dark and the light. the suffering and the hope.

this is me.

i was born in sacramento, ca. i have a little brother who is just 2.5 years younger than me. i was a happy kid, loved playing with my cousins and being with my family, liked putting on plays and playing music and sports with my dad. when i was four, my parents divorced. after that, my overall demeanor changed. i became a shy, introverted, insecure kid who didn't like to have the attention on me. it was a complete 180. in a lot of ways i'm still dealing with the effects of it.

i'm going to skip ahead a lot now. mostly because childhood wasn't the most fun for me, and i don't remember a whole lot of it. here are the basics: i loved school and learning. i was even lucky enough to take an assessment in 2nd grade that resulted in me skipping 3rd. i was blessed to have a very close family. i got to spend a lot of time with my grandparents on both sides, with aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. in junior high, i had a bout with anorexia that was brought on more out of ambivalence than out of a desire to be thin.

the most influential piece of the puzzle of my childhood involves my mom. when i was about 7 years old, she decided to go back to school. she would spend two evenings a week in classes. then, she started seeing this guy. in general he was a nice guy, but there were some things that made their imprint on my heart. namely, he occupied my mom for even more time (she was already going to school two nights a week). i can remember weekends when my mom would take my brother and i to his house, and they would lock themselves in the bedroom and not come out at all. also, my brother and i would be dragged along on adult camping trips where we were the only children. i didn't learn until later exactly how much anger this built up in my heart.

that was the essence of my childhood, and the story picks back up at the tender age of 13. my mom had met a new guy, this time on the internet. and they were married within 3 months of meeting. with him, came his 15 year old son. that same fall, i started high school. so with all that, and the residual anger from my mom's last relationship, you can bet that i was the picture of teen angst. my new stepbrother and i bonded over our mutual hatred of the situation we had been forced into. i even protested by not going to their wedding.

that year, my freshman year of high school, i decided to try out for the softball team. i enjoyed it so much. it provided me with much needed camaraderie and a place where i belonged. and i was out of the house. mid-way through our season, one of my teammates committed suicide. she was also in one of my classes, and this being my first experience with death, it hit me hard. even though we weren't close friends, i felt a huge sense of guilt. i can remember a day a couple weeks before it happened where she came up to me in class and asked me how i was. i remember seeing pain in her face, but probing no further. not to mention, i had recently taken over her position as shortstop on our softball team, and had to continue playing it after she died. i even got up and spoke at her funeral. i count this as one of the top 5 most influential periods of my life, and while it was one of the most difficult things i've experienced, i think (and you'll see why) that dealing with this helped to save my life.

after that, high school progressed. sophomore year brought new friends, my first real exposure to and interest in God (which was fueled by the intensity of the death of a friend), and the moving out of my stepbrother (who had become my closest friend). junior year is where things took a turn. i was overcome by the anger and confusion inside me. i didn't know how to process it, and i became depressed. i started engaging in self-injury on a daily basis, and nearly failed a lot of my classes. i started drinking and smoking weed, and taking pain killers. i stayed out until all hours of the night and at times became an insomniac. this behavior continued well into college, though it varied in severity. there were times when i wanted to give up, but having been on the left behind side of a suicide before, i knew what it did to other people, and i could never do that to my family and friends.

senior year also brought my next encounters with death. on thanksgiving, my grandparents told me that my grandma on my dad's side had liver cancer, and it was only a matter of time. in the spring, very suddenly and unexpectedly, my grandpa on my mom's side passed away. he had been swimming at our local club and had a heart attack. i learned a lot in the weeks to follow. i learned that i can do anything i set my mind to. not only was my family grieving, but i (at the age of 16) was left to care for my nieces who were 2 and 3 while my parents dealt with things. then, not 2 months later, my grandpa on my dad's side died suddenly of a heart attack. at that point, i was almost numb to this kind of thing. it was difficult seeing my grandma left alone, but that side of the family handled it a lot differently. there was a lot of strength, hope, and celebration of life that came out of it.

graduating from high school was anti-climactic for me. i was glad to be gone from that environment, but i didn't get to go far. because of skipping a grade in elementary school, i was only 16 when i graduated and my dad wouldn't let me go away to college. so i was stuck going to the local university, and resented it. i was still stuck with the same people and situations that had held me back in high school. i went to a college where i didn't connect to anything. i was fed up with my existence. i was surrounded by people who treated each other like shit (there's no other word for it). since high school this group of people was awful. we were the kids who had been burned by everyone else, but instead of banding together to change it, we were 10 times worse to each other. i was fed up.

spring break of my freshman year of college, i went down to LA to visit one of my best friends at her school. i got to see what her experiences were. i got to be a part of the relationships that she'd developed. i got to see what its like to be in happy healthy relationships. when i got home from that trip, i asked her why her life was so much different and better than mine. she told me that it was jesus. she had gotten involved with campus crusade for christ that year, and sent me the 4 spiritual laws. after reading them over, and thinking (now i'd call it praying), i decided that these laws were true. i was sinful, and i what was missing from my life was God.

for about 6 months, no one but my friend knew about this change in my life. my family was not christian, in fact my mom was very anti-church. i had even gone through a period of vehemently denying the existence of God. my friend got me my first bible for my 18th birthday. and i reconnected with a friend from high school who i knew went to church, and she invited me to come to her young adult group. and that was my first real experience with church. it was at this church that i first met my current best friend. that fall, i also said goodbye to my grandma who had liver cancer. she had made it longer than anyone had expected, and as difficult as it was to say goodbye, it was good to see her relieved of her suffering (for those of you who know a little bit about liver cancer, its pretty intense and painful).

during my sophomore year of college, my friend invited me to a conference in southern california put on my campus crusade for christ. it was there that i really started to learn about jesus. i learned a bit of theology that helped me to understand exactly what i had signed up for when i gave my life to christ. i was blessed to hear from amazing speakers like frances chan and donald miller. and i learned that there was a campus crusade at my school. at this conference, they asked me to be involved, and even lead the movement on my campus. being the naive 1 year old christian that i was, i signed up.

leading a movement on my campus involved all of the administrative stuff with the school, as well as organizing/coordinating/facilitating meetings and bible studies. i literally jumped in head first into ministry. we also got training and experience in sharing our faith on campus. they encouraged me to go on a summer project. i applied and was accepted to newport beach summer project 2005.

summer project was a life-changing experience for me. for the first time in my life i got to see what the body of christ really looks like. i saw a group of people coming together for a common goal, uplifting and encouraging each other, facing the tough stuff together, and seeking God together. through discipleship and my small group that summer, i started to learn that i had decided somewhere along the line that i was unlovable, and that wasn't okay, because God wanted to love me if i would let him. little did i know at the time what i was in for in learning how to let God love me, or how long of a process it was going to be.

coming home after being in that environment was supremely difficult for me. i had a few new friendships that were developing, including one with my best friend. i went straight back to school, and to leading crusade on my campus. and i had to decide on a major. and i was still dealing with feeling unlovable. in october, it all came to a head. i dropped out of school and out of sheer panic took a roadtrip to santa barbara to see my discipler from summer project. the next few weeks started to spiral out of control. i had stopped cutting after doing it for 3 years when i became a christian. i resumed this practice. my friendship with my new best friend was crumbling. we were both experiencing some really intense things that we couldn't go through together, but i didn't understand that at the time. i was having a major life crisis, i was depressed, i was cutting, and i was unlovable.

during this time, i was smart enough to go to counseling. i had a great counselor who gave me a lot of good insights, and some really powerful tools for coping. but still, i hit rock bottom. i had to realize that i was angry. i had to deal with that. i had to learn that God is not a band aid. wounds are there until you deal with them and let God heal them, and they will be there whether you acknowledge them or not. by the grace of God and with the support of some very key people in my life, i made it through that storm. i started to learn how to love myself. because i couldn't let God love me if i didn't first love myself.

at this point, i had a full time job, and decided that it was time for me to move out. i got my first apartment with a friend. this was short-lived and we soon parted ways. my best friend and i made the mutual choice to invest in our friendship, and started to be intentional with that. and i found a new church that i enjoyed, and decided to intern there. i moved into an apartment with the other intern, started classes at bible school, and embarked on my next adventure.

it was short-lived, however, and i quickly learned that it wasn't the place for me, and they weren't the people to help me deal with the things that i still hadn't dealt with. i had another small breakdown where i moved out of the intern apartment, and left the church. i asked my family if i could go home, but was turned away. it was at this time that my best friend and her family offered their home to me. i had no intention of saying yes, but i humbled myself to receive the blessing they were offering, and it turned out to be the right choice. they were incredibly understanding of what i was going through, and provided an environment for me to heal.

during this time i suffered from anxiety and a crisis of identity. the previous year i had been learning to love myself and let God love me. now it was time to learn who exactly it was that needed this love. i had to learn how to trust God in who he is and who he promises i am. this storm i came out of with a tattoo on my collarbone. it is the hebrew word for peace: "shalom". but its not just peace. shalom is a fullness, wholeness, completeness in the presence of God. not only did i overcome my anxiety over a lack of control, but i also found myself in the presence of God. it was also during this time that God gave me a vision, he made some promises. he showed me a picture of the kind of community in the body of christ that he wanted me to be a part of. he showed me that i wasn't going to find it where i was at. he gave me a glimpse of the bigger things that he was calling me to. he started to stir things in my heart.

over the next year, i learned a lot more about myself. these were more of the little details, though. i had a few tough experiences, and was blessed to have a best friend who taught me a lot. our friendship has been a witness to God's perfect timing, as well as his faithfulness in challenging me to something bigger and better.

we decided that we needed to get out of the podunk town we were from, and to move to seattle. so we packed up our things and headed out. i could go into a ton of detail about all that i've learned from being up here, but most of that you'll find in older blog posts. ;) the gist of it is that i've reached the culmination of part of God's vision for me. i've found that community he promised me 3 years ago. God took me to the other side of the world and he showed me where my heart is and where my focus should be. he's calling me to even more than this.

in being separated from my old life, i've found healing. namely in my relationship with my mom. we have started to get to know each other as humans, and not as this forced mother/daughter image we have for each other. she has come to know God too, and i'm incredibly proud of the person i'm learning she is.

God has been immeasurably faithful to me in my life, and through it all i have faith in him. most of the time i don't understand what's going on around me, but he does. and he's done all of this in my weakness, brokenness and humility. i have a lot of hope for the future and what i know God can do. i have joy in knowing that i have sought after him, and that i'm right where he wants me at this very moment. and i have joy in the relationships he's placed around me. if you've known me for a long time, you probably know that i'm a completely different person in a lot of ways than i was when i was a kid, or 5 years ago, or even 2 years ago. i have been challenged by God, and challenged myself, and to his glory, i've changed.

if you actually made it through my story, thank you. you are a true friend, and a blessing to me. i hope that you will trust me enough to share your story too, because i want to hear it. in fact, call me, or facebook me...right now. let's go to coffee, or have a friendship night.

Monday, November 23, 2009


let me think of how to convey this...

i had a mentor in california who believes strongly in the connections between physical/mental/emotional/spiritual realms. in particular, she saw the connection between incredibly important life events and certain times in her life, or seasons. i like to think of it as relating to the people of Israel. sometimes you're in Egypt, sometimes you're in Sinai, sometimes you're in Babylon, and sometimes you're in Jerusalem. there is a time for being in each place, and in a sense, its cyclical. i've seen these connections in my own life, as well. let me explain a little further.

this time of year is a season for me. it starts in november and continues until sometime in late january, early february. there have been at least 2 or 3 years where i've noticed this pattern, and had this time period stick out to me where significant life events have occurred.

four years ago, during this time period, i experienced the disintigration of a friendship, my sense of self, and my relationship with God, as well as resorting back to depressive behaviors, including cutting. i came out on the other end of this having reestablished said friendship and my relationship with God, and learning to trust God with healing my heart and allowing him to love me.

the following year, i had a huge struggle with anxiety and learning the person that God made me to be. this was accompanied by anxiety attacks, heart palpitations, major changes in life circumstances, and the like. this time i came out on the other end knowing exactly what it means to give things up to God and trusting that he has my best interests at heart.

this last year was tame compared to the previous two years' chains of events. i had some times of being down, spent the first year of my life away from my family for most of the holidays, and was stretched to the breaking point being snowed in for a solid week.

prior to these times, i had not been a christian, and was thus experiencing this kind of stuff regularly throughout the year.

so, relating this back to my mentor and her thoughts...she told me that these time periods are related, and there was a significant event in my past during these months that is underlying in my heart and my subconsious that is causing these recurring thoughts and feelings. so i started thinking back, and i couldn't pinpoint anything that was traumatic or life-changing. and then it hit me.

my parent's divorce was finalized on the day after christmas when i was 4 years old. during these months when i was 4 years old, i experienced my family being torn apart.

i know it seems like this should be something i'm over. it happened when i was 4, right? but if you think about it, it makes perfect sense. i wasn't old enough to understand, and be able to process all that a divorce means. i wasn't able to distinguish how it made me feel, express that, and move on. in a lot of ways, i was stagnated at that point, socially, emotionally, etc.

my point is this. i'm entering into a time that i know is a season for me. it is very easy for me, during this time, to be tired, anti-social, and be overcome by sadness. i don't know how to deal with that. i don't want this to be another year like ones past. that's all. i don't really know how to handle this time of the year.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

leaky ceiling

its saturday, and i'm at work.

we have a leak in our roof. well, more like 3. as we placed a bucket underneath to catch the water and looked up to the sky, we could see the damage to the area surrounding the leak. it occurred to me that this isn't just a little bit of water coming in from a storm outside. this has the potential to do a lot of damage to the structure of the building. and i was struck at the profound significance this thought has in the rest of my life right now.

i'm at the point in a particular situation where the roof is caving in around me, and i have to ask myself, when did the leak start? at what point did i make the decision to ignore it? have i known all along that this was going to happen?

the thing of it is, i think i can pinpoint when the leak started. and i think the leak was fear. i chose to ignore it for a long time.

the time has come to actually deal with the matter at hand. how much am i at fault? how much do i need to let go of? can we even start over, or is this damage irreparable?

sure enough, the only answer is God. his grace, mercy, love, forgiveness and hope.