Thursday, December 22, 2011

joyeux anniversaire

mon très cher frère.
little
little...older

Thankful for a brother who would spend his birthday
running with slow ole' me and watching our favorite movie together:
The Replacements!!
Though you are irreplaceable, oppa bear.
You're 25 (a quarter of 100!) and still kickin'!
Praise God :]

I love you brahjah.
You aiite.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Overwhelmed


My heart is heavy, and I am helpless. 
Everything around me hurts. My insides hurt. 
I hate what I see, and I hate what I feel.
And I am at fault.

I want comfort. I want peace.
Truth, pierce this wretched heart of mine. 

Daddy, let this storm pass. Until then,
teach my heart to beat Psalm 46.
I am n o t h i n g without Y o u.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Flight 375

Travel Tip #1: always carry an orange in your carry-on bag

Usually I'm too exhausted to notice what's around me during plane rides. I sleep just as well in the plane as I do in the car, which means I doze off as soon as I buckle that seat belt and wake up right as the wheels of the plane skim the grounds of the runway.

And that is exactly what my first flight from VA to my layover in NC looked like. But when I boarded the plane again for my final destination in TX, I found myself sitting next to two women from Nigeria with an adorable baby in tow. His name was Mikey, and at just 9 months, he was already taking part in his first transatlantic flight from the Caribbean to Dallas. He had a full head of hair on his head and was squirming with delight, showing off those endearing dimpled cheeks. What struck me the most, however, was the fact that he looked JUST like THIS BABY:

He didn't give me the evil eye, but he sure was one happy little child. When I offered to hold him as his mother ate a late dinner, she was thrilled. Baby got cranky when mom tried to feed him pieces of her burrito, so I pulled out the orange that I brought from the apartment. The mom peeled it and placed it in his little hand. He grasped it so tightly that the juice began to run down his arm. When he sucked it the first time, he squeezed his eyes shut, reacting to the tart surprise before proceeding to eat some more. The mom laughed, saying it was the first time he ever tasted an orange! I was ecstatic to witness this baby's discovery of one of God's many tasty gifts to us.

I begin to tell her about how much I loved the fruit in Africa as her eyes widen--she tells me that she'll tell her friends in Cameroon how much I enjoyed their country. I tell her about Bible translation and she tells me about her own tribal language. God, you are so good.

On my lap, Little Mikey stands on his little legs and begins to stare out the window. So do I.

Here I am humbled by your Majesty
Covered by your grace so free
Here I am, knowing I'm a sinful man
Covered by the blood of the Lamb

Now I've found the greatest love of all is mine
Since you laid down your life
The greatest sacrifice

Majesty, Majesty
Your grace has found me just as I am
Empty handed, but alive in your hands
Majesty, Majesty
Forever I am changed by your love
In the presence of your Majesty

Oh, how could I describe what I saw out that window? You see, it was dark outside. But the stars, those brilliant stars. They were so clear through that tiny plane window. Right above us were those jems, and right below, a blanket of clouds. Once in a while, lightning would flash and light up the entire sky. Three shooting stars later, I glimpsed the moon glowing from afar.

Sometimes I just need to press my face against the window to be reminded of His majesty.
While rain was pounding down upon the Texan earth, I was suspended in His peaceful presence right above the clouds. As the plane dove towards the Earth, for a moment I wished that I could just stay there, suspended in the air, void of fear and filled with calm.

The second the plane passed through the clouds, however, we hit turbulence. The plane shook and that calm I experienced a few minutes ago instantly left me. How quickly that happened. As I gripped the arm rest, I looked over at the baby who by then was sleeping peacefully in his mother's arms. Head on her chest, eyes closed, a hint of a smile lingering on those little lips.

I leaned back against the seat, yearning for that kind of peace. A peace that remains even when turbulence hits. A peace that lets me close my eyes and rest my head against Him, without a care in the world.

Just like Mikey.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Apartment Love



Oh Cabell love of four,
We all thought that we would be homesick for France and Scotland after spending last semester abroad. We still have our brief moments of nostalgia, but little did we know what an adventure God had in store for us here in Cabell 104. Yes, it feels like home here with you girls.

Four of us. Completely different. God has a sense of humor, that's for sure.
I mean, come on. We have one girl who loves cleaning and is slightly obsessed with the smell of bleach. We have another who has ten thousand jobs and leaves her shoes in every crevice of the apartment. Then there's the girl who lives and breathes Harry Potter, adding coloring pages to our walls. And of course little ole' me, always in those lambchop slippers and leaving post-it notes all over the house.

We run in and out here, but we all get giddy for our weekly apartment dinner dates. We pile onto the couch and watch an episode of Gilmore Girls, eating all of Steph's leftover kettle corn. We bake far more sweets than our stomachs can handle and fit way too many items into our bucket list. We get excited to rearrange furniture for our movie night guests. We encourage each other to eat, but then guilt each other into working out (mostly the former). We stress, we rant, but in the end, we remind each other that we are blessed. Because well, we are. And I am thankful. And that is why I am writing this.

Tonight? Steph is studying in Morton (or Mordor, as we like to call it now) while Margaret Ann and Jessica are painting outside my door, watching Winnie the Pooh next to our adorable Christmas tree. When she comes back, we'll celebrate. Just another day in Cabell 104. Let me just capture this moment now.

Laughter in the living room, jokes in the kitchen, crying sessions on the couches, story time in the bedrooms. One semester is over, but I'm eager to etch more memories into these old walls.

Thankful for what He's doing in this apartment--how He's humbling, stretching, and growing us.

Daddy, teach us to persistently encourage and challenge each other.
May this apartment be a welcome home to all...that it will be used for Your kingdom.

Four of us. Completely different. God is so good.
I love you ladies. Your gentle, humble, and joyful spirits. I am so honored to be here.
May this apartment be filled with the love of John 15:13

Monday, December 5, 2011

Bucket List #3

flushed, sweaty, and in disbelief

Chick-fil-A 8k Christmas Dash: done!

This senior year Ionlyhaveonemoreyearleft high
 makes you want to do a lot of crazy things before you graduate.
Case in point: dancing in a friend's piece without any prior dance training,
presenting research in French, jumping the Governor's Palace wall, 
teaching two language classes, etc.
Praise the Lord who knows what He's doing when I really have no idea.

backstage before showcasing Sarah's piece

Today was one those let'sdosomethingnew days. At six on a beautiful Sunday morning,
Margaret Ann and I got dressed half-asleep, pinned our tags on, charged our iPods,
and drove over to Bush Gardens (first time ever!). The park was already
bustling with folks and resonating with Christmas music. Jolly people all around were stretching,
serving hot chocolate, and warming up for the race.

Running that 5k freshman year made me realize what strength encouragement can give
when you're in such a physically exhausted state. Because the money raised went to
the U.S. Marine Corps Toys for Tots, soldiers stood throughout the park
to high-five and cheer on the runners. Yay for encouragement!

Perhaps a 10k and half-marathon beforehand, 
but I'm going to write it down before I chicken out.
[Bucket List #3: run a marathon]

Why? Watching people cross the finish line gets me teary. 
I don't know why, but I got really emotional (and it was slightly embarrassing. haha). 
It was one of those moments when I saw that my soul was clearly meant to
yearn for that finish line...the race of all races, you know?
Rather than dashing like a madwoman back home to change in 2 min and 
drive over to church in 5,
we would run into the Father's embrace, and we would all celebrate together.

We would all be joyously shouting 2 Timothy 4:7

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race,
I have kept the faith"

I can hardly wait.