India Update 3

Speaking words of light
that pierce the darkness to bring
about a new life.

India Update 2

Finally touched down! After a layover in Chicago, overpriced cup o' coffee in Frankfurt, an insightful conversation with a man from Mumbai plus a final plane ride just long enough to remind me I'm not in America anymore, I am here! Kolkata!

As my swollen feet finally met Kolkata soil, my nostrils exploded with a scent that I can't say I have ever experienced. Spicy, sweet, sweat, and pleasure. This is the smell of Kolkata. Where the old India meets the new, and everything, including the air tells of it.

Greeted by our lovely hostesses at the airport, we loaded up our luggage, and were given a riveting tour of the city while being driven to the guest house. I tried not to look at the traffic as we passed. Horns blaring. Cars swerving in and out of our lane, what lane? Stop signs are merely a suggestion. We glide gracefully through. To the guesthouse: A quiet, peaceful oasis among the noise. We sign a lease for six weeks. And off we are again, to the traffic madness.

The mall. Something normal. Few nuances. We're taken for a classic cuisine...Italian. Feasting on pizza, we plow through our jetlag and finish with a few laps to look at salwarz and sip cappuccinos. I must say, India does indeed have a fine cappuccino, even if I was only half awake to enjoy it.

All in all the day was splendid, though I doubt I'll remember most of it. You don't remember much when you're only half awake. So now, I'm staying awake, hoping to decrease the amount of time it takes to work off the jet lag. Waiting for a shower, the only excuse I have to keep me up. If I can make it to 9 p.m. I'll be a superstar. Gonna make it to 9 p.m. Everytime the clock strikes 9 p.m. this week, remember me.
Hello, Kolkata! This is only the beginning. 

India Update 1

Standing in the line at security in the Minneapolis Airport, my heart is pounding. I was 5 years old the last time I was this anticipatory for anything. Waiting in line for your destiny feels quite like waiting in line for your first day of Kindergarten.

The security officer yells "Anything from aerosol to peanut butter to guacamole must fit in your zip lock bag." Indeed, this security officer sounds a lot more like a cafeteria Nazi than airport staff. But here I am.

Backpack in tow, pass in hand. It's like getting ready for Kindergarten class, but as I hand my passport and boarding pass to the security officer at the gate, I slowly come to realize that I've been waiting for this moment for 22 years, not 5 and this is where reality and destiny collide. The world will be my teacher, not Mrs. McKay and I am ready to be schooled:
           Letting go of all
                    so familiar to be
                           beautifully changed.

Like a timid school girl, I look back at my parents and boyfriend. I give them a quirky thumbs up and smile big. Wave goodbye. Blow a big kiss. This is where my future becomes my present. I will never be the same. I step forward. I will be forever changed.

Whenever you see a small child this week, think of me. Childhood is bliss, but only for a moment, then we step into the great unknown of adulthood to become all childhood has shaped . This is the time, when I step away from the child in me to become the woman I was made to be. I will be broken, rocked, and moved. As pain produces growth, so experience produces maturity, and it is now. So whenever you see a child, think of me. Here's to growing up.

Seven Mile Stretch

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Today I went on an adventure. Backpack in tow, boyfriend by my side, and camera ready, we went on a final stroll downtown before departing. We've been talking about taking this jaunt for a while. The right opportunity just had never arose...until today. Today, we threw all cares to the wind, threw our tennis shoes on, and hiked from one end of the city to the next. Kopplin's in St. Paul to Whole Food's Market out by Lake Calhoun. One final adventure and here are some of the highlights in pictures to inspire you to get out and discover your own neighborhood.

Right before we crossed the river into Minneapolis, we ran across a book drive of wealthier country clubbers sending books to Africa. Development or Dependency? 

Handsome man with the city scape

Hey Guys, this is where I live!

Forage Modern Workshop: Friend of the family owns this shop. Check it out if you're ever in the cities!

Tamale's at the Global Market!

I got the vegetarian. Tyler got a spicy chicken (of course), as well as a regular chicken and a pork (both with hot sauce) 

Lake Calhoun!

2 Days!

Pacem in Terris

Why are we afraid to be alone? After all, you're alone, when you're alone. No one else there. Nothing to fear. But maybe that in it's self is worth fearing. By ourselves, no one else's thoughts and we are left alone to face the fact that we ourselves are the ones to fear. The endless racing of thought after thought comes streaming in to our raging mind. What's not to fear? What will we find, when left with ourselves, with no "to do" list? No screaming kids? No other voices calling for our attention in the break of day. That is when we find ourselves for what we are, for who we are, and that is what makes us afraid.

That is what I found, sitting in my rocking chair, staring out the picture window of my little cottage hut. In the middle of the big woods, just me and the Lord. Though I have had nothing to do for weeks, anxiety has still come to attack me, and here, all alone, I find the anxiety is from me. The voices raging are all my own as I sit and contemplate over and over and over again the bane of my existence.

Then a sigh. Every word's been said. Every worry wrought. And a gentle whisper below the waves of my worry, so gently whispers in my ear, "You are mine." I hear the peaceful coo, but can barely believe it.

Maybe not an audible voice, but surely the sensation of an overwhelming peace has come over me, and what is this feeling? Serenity? "My Beloved."

Oh how long it's been since I've heard those words. I say in guest "It's been a long time since you called me that."

You reply, without guest "It's been a long times since you've been listening."

A melancholy phrase resonating with in my soul. Indeed, it has been a long time and this saddens me. How long had it been since I simply sat, without a worry or a "to do" list, but simply me? To sit in the quiet, my soul laid bare in the blessed assurance that I am Beloved. The identity that once was mine, still was mine, but some how muffled by my messy chaos. How could I forget the sweet promise of all I am? Yes here I am, admitting that this basic core has been buried alive and I don't know how long it's been since I've seen it. Suffocating, squelched, gasping for a breath of life which breeds truth and wholeness. It's been lost for so long and so have I as I forget it's existence. Wanting more. Striving for more. Begging to be more. When Beloved is the essential to anything that could come next. Praying, build me. Grow me stretch me. I'm ready to move on. Yet never realizing that my foundation is in the basics so from the basics I cannot go.

I am the Beloved. I am my Beloved's and he is mine. (Song of Solomon 6:3).

So here I sit. Basking in the truth. Peace that passes understanding all surrounding. I am Beloved.
Out of this basic truth, the life blood flows, for I know that nothing is accomplished without it.
How can I love my brother, my sister, that homeless child across the street, unless I have first been loved.
We love him, because she first loved us (1 John 4: 19)
Wasn't it even Jesus who it was said "This is my beloved son." Then he went out doing his miracles. Acts of love for the people. It was after, not before, because even the Son of Man had to be loved in order to love. Am I better than God?

So I will sit. Remembering my way. Finding myself in the one who gave himself all for me. I surrender my anxieties, one by one, and finally find I am light by the glory of the Son.

4 Days!

Today, I'm going on a pilgrimage. In the woods of Isanti in the middle of Minnesota lies a place of peace, and to here is where I'm going. A cabin among the trees is where the Lord promises to speak. Alone, away from the world, he has beckoned, "Come away, my beloved." So I will come. Leaving the distractions and empty fillings of this dry and thirsty world, I will travel to the streams of quiet water and drink of the water that cause to never thirst again. Pacem in Terris- Peace on Earth, I will find solace in the only peace I have come to know, in the Lord. My thoughts have been racing. Anxiety raging, as I prepare to go around the world. However, amid the storm, there is peace and to that peace I cling, and today is when I escape, to forget the storm is even there. I will be alone with Peace and pray that Peace will speak.

6 Days!

Avocado-Blue Cheese Flat Bread

Ingredients:

1 cup flour

2 Tbs shortening

2/3 cup water

1 Mashed avocado

1 Tbs crushed red pepper

1 clove minced garlic

1 red pepper

1 Caramelized onion

1/4 cup crumbled blue cheese

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Mix flour, shortening, and water to form crust and then pat in greased pan. Bake for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, mix avocado, crushed red pepper, and garlic. Take crust out of oven and spread avocado mixture over crust. Add thinly sliced red pepper, onion and blue cheese. Bake for 30 min. Enjoy!

Overall, the boyfriend gave it a 5 star rating. I'd say it was a little rich. May have instead used feta instead of blue cheese to give it a lighter flavor. Also, maybe would have used more of a pizza-ish crust. This crust was a little more like a pie or quiche. Next time, since the boyfriend loves (and I mean LOVES) blue cheese, I may trade out buffalo sauce for the avocado, and replace the red pepper for chicken for a buffalo-chicken flat bread. Thoughts?

But Ruth Replied

When I was 8 years old I went to summer camp for the first time. I heard how much fun it was. I was told I would make tons of friends. However, despite all the reassurance, the night before I didn't sleep a wink. Every hour, on the hour I would get up, run to my Mom's room and tell her I had changed my mind about going.

Laying in my bed, the hall light on, for fear of the dark, I stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavy. Quickened. Knots rolled over in my stomach. My heart choked up in my throat and tension ran its way up and down my spine. Terrified. I wasn't ready for this. A week away from home, when I had never had the guts to have a sleepover before. I was awkward, with big glasses, a know-it-all who liked to read, and when kids picked on me they'd laugh and call me cry baby as I nursed back my broken soul. Of course I was afraid. What if the kids were mean? What if the games were hard? What if I spent the whole week wanting to go home?

That was 14 years ago and though I'm not travelling up to a retreat center in the woods, I'm travelling half way around the globe and my heart feels the same. It's funny how there are some feelings that never change. That anticipatory anxiety, wondering if everything will be ok. Plagued with the questions. What if I don't get a long with my team? What if I don't have what it takes? What if I spend the whole seven weeks wanting to go home?

Though I'm 22 years-old! You would think that something may have changed. You would think that adventure and excitement would be given a new meaning aside from anxiety-produced-sleepless nights. However, it hasn't and if my mom lived in my apartment, I would probably be running down the hall every hour on the hour saying "I changed my mind, I don't want to go."

However, my mom doesn't live right down the hall. She lives in Iowa. So instead of my mom, I cry to God and pray "What is going on?" And there's no answer, simply a call to trust. So I will trust. Something I am learning, is that choosing to trust requires that there be a reason not to trust. Chaos around and abounding, there are plenty of viable reasons to turn around and run back to my bed, stick my head under the covers, and scream "I'm never coming out again." Whenever you get a group of women together, there is bound to be drama and chaos to some extent. Going to another country and coming back will indeed provide culture shock and reverse culture shock in abundance. And though India has been a dream since that first year I went to summer camp, it is quite probable that this will be the most challenging experience of my life. So I'm left with the choice, to trust or stay home. That's where I am. That's where my fear has crippled me.

It's like Ruth, at the fork in the road, where she has a choice to turn around and go home or leave everything behind and follow Naomi. Her family was in the country she knew. Life there was comfortable. She could find another husband easily and life would be ok. Her gods would stay the same. Her life would stay the same. However, she clung to Naomi, clung to the Lord, and said "I will go." She left everything she knew. She became a foreigner, something any immigrant will tell you is not comfortable. She gave up the certainty of being loved and cared for. She traded her gods for trust in a God she did not know. Her life was changed forever.

So, like Ruth, I will cling to the Lord, and I will go. Though the outcome is uncertain. My world will be turned upside-down. Though for a moment anxiety plagues my soul, I will go. I will cling to the Lord. I will trust.

But Ruth replied, "Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.--Ruth 1:16

7 Days!

My Schuler's Shoes came! 

The pattern reminds me of Henna!

7 Days!

Freebie Friday!

Free Bagels and Spread!

Text ABP to 22922 to get a FREE Bagel and spread with purchase.

Click Here to see your bagel options and nutritional information.  

8 Days!

DIY Paper Doll (Print, Color, and Cut)

8 Days!

Forgiveness in the Tea Garden

But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.  Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful. -- Luke 6: 35-36

Sitting at Tea Garden, waiting for a friend, I sit and watch the people sip and suck on bubbles and jellies that slip through over-sized straws. In conversation that would be quiet and subtle if it were not for the blaring  French Jazz setting the tone of the beverage bar. Guys with guys, girls with guys, and girls with girls in singles, pairs, and multiples discuss life, love, and the never ending monotony of living in America. 

All of a sudden an Asian model strides in with her average looking partner. He holds the door open for her as she glides into the room, brushing her hair off her shoulder with each stride. Perfection in bodily form. Her dark eyes are perfect almonds embedded in a delicate porcelain face that sways upon a sculpted body that would be better suited for the cover of Cosmopolitan than Uptown Minneapolis Tea Garden. She's a princess, pristine, and precisely every woman's dream of what to be. 

Then a gentle whisper precedes to place the thought in my brain, "She needs forgiveness." Why this thought occurred, but even more so, why had it never occurred before. This women, despite all her pieces that represent my ideal, is in the end human, and therefore, by nature, imperfect. Perfection collides with reality and I realize, this woman at one point or another has probably really screwed someone over and has needed someone to forgive her. My preconceived ideas of everything I think she is begin to crumble as I realize the humanity with in this being I objectified. 

Likewise, because hurting people hurt people, this woman has also had to learn how to forgive. She has probably been hurt. Little pieces of her heart have been torn out one at a time, even now. As men gawk and see her as sex on a stick as opposed to a heart in a treasure box. She has been raped over and over again in the minds of one man after the other. Forgiveness is a lesson to be learned and one to be accepted. 

She has been hurt and has also hurt. Though I do not know this woman, I have only observed from my comfy leather chain in the corner of a tea shop, I know this woman well. She is human, every inch. Because of this, I know she is depraved, rotten, and hurting. Because of this, I know that she is a violent, hateful thing. Because of this, I know that she needs forgiveness and in return must learn to forgive. 

This is the essence of humanity. We all hurt. We all hate. That is why forgiveness is so essential. Forgiveness is the beginning of love. Jesus charged "But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.  Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful." -- Luke 6: 35-36

Looking at this woman I think I have gained a glimpse into the reality of humanity. Though perfection is what appears on the outside, and so often I see imperfection inside of me. I know at the core, we are the same, needing love, needing forgiveness. We all need forgiveness. 

India Day 23!

All packed and ready to go. I'll be leaving my stuff in boxes, because I will hopefully be moving as soon as I return from India. Here's my pile at the back of our apartment. My whole life fits in a 3ft x 2ft space. Who knew?

9 Days!

Forgive Yourself

A creature of habit that dwells in regret. This is the tragically dismal sphere of my existence. As the year has closed, yes, I am joyful. Ecstatic, really. I am ready to step into the great big world of after graduation. However, at the back of my mind clings a dark creature that would dare to send an overcast shadow to block the sunshine of my life.

Stressful could be one way to describe my year. Mixed-messages and uncertainty were two very defined realities. Being told where to go, who to be, and then being scolded when those weren't really me. It's a hard balance to sustain when who you are is not enough and what's enough is not who you are even when you are playing the part. It leaves a knotted feeling of failure roaring in the pit of my stomach as I come to the sudden realization that I am completely hopeless and lost.

Yet I have survived.

There was struggles. There was chaos. Still, here I am, exhausted from the last monster and waiting for the next. Coming to find that there is no next and the sunshine is beginning to poke its head out from behind the clouds. Only one uncertainty remains:

What was the point?

The frustration and fury had to have a purpose. If not, then it would all be in vain. I find myself perplexed and exasperated, trying to find the deep-seeded message amid the noise. I listen for a little voice, the calm quiet whisper to speak truth and life. However, there is only silence.

Then I remember the one solid theme: Trust.

This has seemed to be a theme for me all year. Trusting the Lord is something that seems hard for all people and I am no exception. Trusting that the Lord is sovereign is a battle that I constantly face. Trusting that he is good, despite my preconceived ideals of what is good. Trusting that he sees me even in the times I feel invisible to everyone including myself. He knows me by name. I am his. That is my lesson.

So for those situations where things could have been different. In the situations where I made mistakes and there's nothing I could do to make them right, so I have to move one. What do I do? What is the lesson? I forgive myself. I believe the Lord loves me. I believe his grace is sufficient. I accept his forgiveness and I forgive myself.

So what about the people I hurt? What about the situations that should have been handled differently and despite my efforts I will never make right? As Richard from Texas would say (I'm currently a little obsessed with Eat, Pray, Love quotes, "Waiting for forgiveness is a waste a time. Forgive yourself." I can't control others, only me and I can let the mistakes of the past continue to haunt me. I only can take the lessons learned and move on. And if the lessons seem foggy for now, then I will move on and trust that the lessons will reveal themselves in due time. "If compassion does not include yourself it is incomplete." -Jack Kornfield.  So compassion on myself I will have. I trust that the Lord is in control, so he will be my pursuit as I press on . 

But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.- Philippians 3:13-14

Pray for India: Day 21

  I can't lie an say I haven't been freaking out a little bit about money lately. Technically the bare minimum amount of money I needed came in last week, but I haven't had time to give an update on that. However, recognizing that I have expenses outside of India (Rent now, Rent when I get back, trying to find a job, etc), Money can be a bit of a stressor. Writing in my journal this morning, I was stressed. Worried how this was all going to come together. 

Trust.
In my prayers, this seems to be the only answer I receive.
Trust.

Today, I checked my mail and two envelopes greeted me. The first was from a wonderful girl that said she wanted to support me in my trip. Her support came in the form of $100. The other envelope contained $250.

My God will provide all of my needs.

Therefore I tell you do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink, or your body and what you will wear. Is not life more important than food and the body more than clothes. Look at the birds of the air. They do not sow or reap or store away in barns, but your Heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not more valuable than the birds. Can any of you add an hour to your life by worrying--Matthew 6:25-27.

India in 11 Days!

Vulnerability and Shame

"Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality."- Romans 12: 9-13

Watch and be inspired :)

Answer to "Graduation Nerves": A letter from my former self

Today I checked my mail, and, ironically, it really seemed to answer the concerns I expressed in my previous post today. I don't remember writing this. I'm sure it was for some leadership even or other. All I know is that it speaks into where I'm at now with great assurance of the Lord's provision. Here's the wisdom from my former self:

Dear Self,
You are a lioness. You are full of potential and made for great things. at this time you are headed off to a new destination, a big step in which the Lord is going to propel you forth towards your biggest dreams and greatest purpose. Don't let anyone look down on you, but be yourself, and live your life as a woman of character. Chase after the Lord's purpose. and you will go far. Sometimes it will be hard, but only the most beautiful things come from the biggest struggles, and you, my dear, were made to change the world. you feel that inside of you, it screams for a time to be brought to life. have patience and trust in the Lord. It will happen. Step by step, the Lord will bring you into divine appointments to set you about his mission. Go change lives and constantly love. Love others, love the Lord, and don't forget to give yourself grace. You won't ever do everything perfectly, but the Lord is made faithful in your weakness. Show him faithful.

May this letter speak to someone else as it spoke to me. Know, you are made for great things.

Graduation Nerves

This is a picture of the pie I baked that will be used for celebrating
after the commencement ceremony on Friday!

Nostalgia has slowly been slither through my veins. The drip, drip, drop of the IV that infuses the memories, making my mind whirl with wonder and awe as I realize, it's done. I stop and breathe for a minute, fixated on the point. Finished? Finally? Finally finished. Four years of institutionalized endocrination, friends made for me, rubbing shoulder to shoulder with the same old faces class after class, day after day, year after year, until now. A slightly queasy feeling rolls into ball in my stomach, expanding and expanding as it feels with the emotions of all the yester-years unfolding together in a vast array of things used to be.

So now what? To say good by, a bitter-sweet. The sadness of kissing my friends on the cheek and bidding them a dieu, as they go off to live the exciting dreams they were destined for. A dream come true, and a melancholy melody indeed, as I am left with the tears falling down my face as they tear a piece of my heart away with each plane that takes off into the night sky. And what about my dreams, as I am left, sitting in the dark, looking for stars that would point the direction toward my North that the desires of my heart take form.  

However, no spot of light can poke through the blackened veil of my robe as I am enveloped in the here and now, waiting to hear the sound of a voice calling me, telling where to go, what to do, who to be. In an institutional bubble, where they claim they teach me to think, I find my skills of critical analysis are futile as I seek to ponder the future. Indeed I am lost, looking back, yet moving forward. Saying goodbye, and wondering, What now? I am graduating