No Problem Mon

I was blessed with the opportunity to return to Jamaica the week before Thanksgiving. The purpose of the trip was similar to the one I took in May, but this time the team was bigger and we were hoping to perform at least a couple of the surgeries we were unable to perform last time (well the surgeons performed them, not me).  The trip was also different in while it was planned further in advance, up until the day before the trip, I wasn’t sure if I was really supposed to go. With the trip in May, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that God orchestrated it so I could go. But this trip was different. Originally, I said no because I was already taking vacation in October and didn’t know if I had enough PTO to take off again in November. Around September, I received a call saying that they still didn’t have any physical therapists to go and is there any way I could make it work? I said I’d look into it. I knew it was something I should pray about, but somehow I never got around to it. I looked at my available PTO, did a little math, and discovered that I’d have enough to go on the trip, so I said yes. I told everyone in my small group at church that I’d be going back again, I told all my friends about this great trip I’d be taking, and told all my patients and their families the week before I left that I was going down to Jamaica to do medical outreach. I told everyone how excited I was, but even up until the morning of our departure, something didn’t feel right.  I tried not to let me anxiety and stress show, so I did my best to suppress it and put on a smile.

            

The night before and the day of our departure was an adventure in itself. I received a phone call Saturday night explaining that our 6:15am flight was cancelled and the next available flight wouldn’t get us to Miami in time to make our connection to Kingston. The trip organizer was on the phone with the airline for an hour trying to figure out how to get us somewhere on the island in time for the surgeries that were scheduled Monday morning. Around 11pm, we were told to meet at the airport at 6:00am to take a flight to Atlanta to make a connection for Montego Bay. Nine out of the ten team members got the message, but no one could get a hold of team member #10. We arrived in Montego Bay by early afternoon but got held up in customs because the paperwork to bring in the necessary drugs and medical equipment was ready for us in Kingston, not Montego Bay. Once we were given clearance for the supplies, we took a 3-hour van ride through fern gully, a winding road that took us through the heart of the island. It was probably very beautiful during the day, but was a little scary at night. At one point I woke up from a cat nap thinking I was still on the airplane. It felt like we were just coming in to land, but when I opened my eyes, we were actually just stopping at a red light. We arrived in Kingston around 9pm, just in time for ice cream before heading to the hotel. My roommate and I were able to settle into bed around 11pm and minutes after turning off the lights, heard someone trying to get into our room. Through the peephole, I saw team member #10 had arrived safely after an equally adventurous travel day of her own.

           

On the trip down to Jamaica, our team was scattered throughout the plane, so I had the opportunity to spend a little quiet time with God. I was honest and brought to Him my uneasy feeling surrounding the trip. As I reflected on some things we discussed in my women’s Bible study and my thoughts and actions in the week preceding the trip, God revealed how prideful I’d been. I’d been telling everyone about the trip so they would think I was a great person doing great things. I left God out of it, the giver of great things. I left Him out of the decision making process, out of the preparation process, out of the motivation for the trip, and my faith in His provision for the trip faltered. I endured undue stress and anxiety because I tried to do things on my own, hoping that I would be glorified through the work I was doing. During my quiet time that morning, I was able to repent of my pride and experience the peace and freedom only God can provide. I was also able to pray for each of the team members and the kids we were about to meet, inviting God to bless the work we were about to do. And I allowed God to work through me, remembering each day, that this trip, this work is not about me. I am merely a conduit of God’s love to those who are orphaned, hurting, sick or lost. He has given me unique gifts to bring His message of love and hope to those who need it most, but if I focus on how great those gifts are, I lose sight of the Giver and the incredible blessings that He gives through those gifts. 

            

I’ve often marveled at my ability to struggle with pride and insecurity all at the same time because to me they seem like opposite problems. But what I’m learning is that both stem from a me-centered perspective. God calls us to live with a different perspective. Have you ever seen the acronym JOY? Jesus first, Others second, Yourself last. You start by praising and glorifying Christ for what He accomplished on the cross. Then, He equips you to see others how He sees them and challenges you to love them like He does.  Then you experience blessings beyond what you could ever imagine. Our knee-jerk reaction is to take care of ourselves first, be independent, and self-sufficient. But we weren’t created to work that way. We were created to be dependent on one another. The blessings come from the relationships and the give-and-take we share with those around us. Had I continued to focus on the good work I was doing, I would have missed the good work my team was doing and the blessing of seeing each individual use the talent God has given them to improve the quality of a child’s life. I would have missed the smile and laughter each child offered as a gift to focus instead on the problems they had that I thought could fix. I would have continued to worry that I was going to do something wrong and second guess every decision I made, missing out on the peace and freedom God offered to enjoy the work that I was doing.

            

The trip turned out to be an amazing experience despite our adventurous start. The kids were worked with were adorable, the families we worked with displayed so much gratitude toward us, and I came back enriched by the new friends I had made. At the end of the trip, we had the opportunity to soak up some of the beauty of the island by making our way up the mountain to where coffee is grown. The reward for our hike up to the lookout point was the type of breathtaking that can’t fully be captured through pictures. It’s amazing what a little change in perspective will do for appreciating the places God takes you in life.

            

The Eye of the Beholder

One of my favorite movies growing up was Annie. My friends and I loved to play orphans dressed in rags and forced to do labor intensive chores. Whoever could come up with the most pathetic, down trodden story won (at least that’s what my competitive 8 y/o mind thought.) The game would always end with our adoption and a transformation from rags to riches. My mom saved some of her junior high and high school dance dresses, old high heels, and our dance and Halloween costumes. I loved to rifle through the dress-up bin to put together a new outfit, complete with jewelry and make-up, so I could make the transformation to beautiful complete.

            

Feeling beautiful is not something that happens often for me. I’ve never felt that my outward appearance has been one of my strengths. I’ve gotten compliments on my appearance, but I accepted those compliments as circumstantial rather than a reflection of who I was. My skin has never been perfect and breakouts are not something I’ve grown out of like I thought. My nose has been broken 3 times and more prominent than I would sometimes like. Then there are body issues that stem from years of comparing myself to other, more toned athletes that I competed with and against throughout my soccer career. No matter how fit I was, there were always flaws I was sure everyone else focused on just as much as I did. These insecurities were never something I wanted to talk about because I didn’t want people to think I was fishing for compliments or shallow for focusing on my outward appearance. Most days, I kept silent and tried to focus on the other things I had going for me. The problem was that those unspoken insecurities transformed into lies I started to contemplate. Then I was then afraid to talk about the lies because what if they were actually true? The lies were particularly potent when I was most vulnerable during my college years. They included things like: nobody wants to be friends with you because of the way you look; you’ll never get playing time if you aren’t shaped like that person; and how do you expect to get a boyfriend with skin like that? I pretended to myself and to God that I wasn’t affected by these lies, I was secure enough in other areas of my life that what I looked like didn’t matter to me.

            

I did my best to ignore the lies, pushing them beneath the surface instead of actually dealing with them. This technique worked for a little while after I graduated college and once I had success in other areas of my life. I was able to focus on those lies less, but they’ve always been teeming below the surface.  Recently, God has been encouraging me to examine those lies and face them head on, seeing them for what they truly are, and eliminating them in exchange for the truth.

            

Lie detection device number one was a song that came on the radio. I have anywhere from a 30-60 minute commute each day depending on traffic so I have a lot of time to think about random things, pray or sing along to the radio. On one day in particular, a lie had crept its way up to the forefront of my random thoughts. As I was getting ready to ignore it like I usually do the song playing on the radio piqued my attention.

           

            “There could never be a more beautiful you.

            Don’t buy the lies, disguises and hoops they make you jump through.

            You were made to fill a purpose, that only you can do,

            So there can never be a more beautiful you.”

           

It was a great song written by Johnny Diaz, and if you’ve never heard it I recommend looking it up: More Beautiful You. The song was the first echo God laid on my heart to initiate a thought transformation. The second lie detector came through the same radio station on a day similar to the one described above. A woman was talking about how our physical “imperfections” are what make us relatable to each other. We all see them as the things we would most want to change, but God sees them as a beautiful way to make us approachable to the people around us who don’t know about his love. If we were the picture of perfection, we would likely be too intimidating and miss out on relationships and opportunities to show others love. He changed my perspective of my physical imperfections and showed me that I was intentionally created with them for His glory.

            

The last lie God encouraged me to let go of didn’t happen the way I thought it would. As a single woman of 27 I’ve always considered myself a pretty good catch for any Christian man (I really hope that doesn’t sound conceited.) I do my best to seek after Christ in everything I do, I have wide variety of interests, I enjoy watching and playing sports, I’m a good listener, and I try to put other’s needs above my own. With all of these things going for me, I had a hard time understanding why I’ve been single for so long. The lie that I tried to ignore most but was probably most afraid of was that it was because I was physically unattractive. I expected God to squash this lie by bringing the man of my dreams into the picture so he could tell me everyday how beautiful I am and we would live happily ever after. God chose a different way. I’ve been reading a book by Margaret Feinberg called The Sacred Echo. She writes about how God doesn’t just tell us something once and we are done, we either learn the lesson or we don’t, but instead He echoes important lessons over and over until it begins to sink in. One echo God has continually laid on my heart whenever we discuss the romance part of my life is wait. Should I pursue this person even if he doesn’t appear interested? God echoes wait. Should I give on-line dating a try? God echoes wait. Should I go to this speed-dating event to try and put myself out there? God echoes wait. The echo takes a variety of forms from Bible verses to fictional stories to conversations with close friends. Sometimes I am patient and graciously accept the answer and sometimes I get frustrated and cry or yell at God for such a silly answer. There is a chapter in this book entitled How Long? It talks about waiting and how we (the human race) are all waiting for something: graduation, marriage, a job, a house, retirement, etc. But we aren’t the only ones. God and all of creation are also waiting for the world to be reconciled to Him. The book puts it so much more eloquently than I just did and the message I gleaned helped to change my perspective on waiting in my dating life. I learned that He is trying to teach me how to wait expectantly because it will make what I am waiting for that much better while at the same time increasing my trust and faith in Him.

            

Once the lies were exposed, examined, and transformed to truth, God allowed me to see myself as He sees me. I am made to fill a purpose that only I can fulfill, my imperfections show his strength and love to those around me, and I am waiting not because I am unattractive, but because He wants to draw me into closer relationship with Himself. I feel so blessed to know that God cared enough about me to clear up the lies I thought I had under control so the truth could set me free. I am no longer an orphan in ugly rags, but a daughter of the King, clothed in beauty and grace.

            

Nanny for Hire: A Love Story

I spent the majority of my Labor Day weekend, not at my cabin or enjoying the outdoors as originally planned, but splitting time between my bed and the couch watching movies, reading books, and eating ice cream. My nurse/designated ice cream scooper/lovely sister was able to join me for part of the weekend watching said movies, scooping said ice cream and bringing me whatever I needed while maintaining a safe distance. I was very happy for her company. In between the sleeping, lounging, and eating ice cream, and while my sister had other plans, I had some time to reflect on different events of my life and felt compelled to share with you all part of the story about life the year after I graduated college.

           

The story actually starts a few months before graduation. I was stressed and taking way too many credits than what was healthy for a person who should simply be enjoying the last semester of college life. On top of that, I had no idea what I was going to do once the semester was over. I knew that somewhere down the line, I was going to go to physical therapy school, but had decided earlier that year, it was not going to be right away. There was also the dilemma of where to do the what I was going to do after graduation. Do I stay in Nashville or go back home to the Twin Cities or try some new part of the country or travel the world? I had a feeling that if I left Nashville at that time, I wouldn’t likely return for grad school and part of me wasn’t ready to give up on the city yet. College hadn’t been exactly what I anticipated, but I knew that the city itself had more to offer.

            

Naturally, I prayed for direction and guidance for God to direct my next steps. Turns out He was going to answer my prayers right around Spring Break. I went on a road trip through Florida with one of my friends who told me about an opportunity to work as a nanny for a family in the Nashville area. I’ve always loved kids and have worked with a wide variety of ages and personalities so I felt this job was right up my alley. During the next couple weeks, I interviewed with the family, met their 4 boys, and we began discussing start dates and availability. At the final interview, the family said they would call to finalize the details later in the week. By the time, the weekend rolled around and I still hadn’t heard from them, I started to get concerned. I tried calling but it always went to voicemail. Finally, I received a return call but it wasn’t exactly the call I expected. Turns out, there was a miscommunication between the husband and wife and one of them had already offered the job to someone else. I was so confused because I clearly felt that this was what God wanted me to be a nanny during my time off from school. Naturally, I went into panic mode. It was now weeks after spring break and I had no idea what I was going to do after graduation. I liked the idea of being a nanny so I decided to put my resume on a random nanny website and said I was willing to go anywhere in the country. I spent a whole day perfecting my profile and searching through potential families, wondering if anyone would contact me. My room was a flurry of suitcases left half unpacked from a weekend trip, papers scattered everywhere as I tried to think of more things to add to the profile, and textbooks accumulating dust as I neglected whatever homework was due that Monday. I’m sure my roommates thought I was having a nervous break down.

            

At this point in the story, looking back at what I know now, I picture God shaking His head, smiling, and thinking, “Just wait little girl, at least give me a day to show you what great things I have planned for you.”  You see the next day, I received a phone call from a friend of the family I’d interviewed with. She was also looking for a nanny for her 2 daughters and lived in the Nashville area. And had I found a position yet? We set up an interview at Starbucks and a second interview at their home where I got to meet her husband and the girls. Instantly, I knew this was where God wanted me to spend my year off of school.

           

What a year it was. I spent my days making cooking videos, reality TV shows, dressing up in costumes, and doing silly dances around their beautiful home. The girls were wonderful, smart, fun, and funny, always keeping me on my toes. We enjoyed mornings at the pool in the summer and games of tennis in the afternoon once school started. Of all the fun activities we did during the day, I think my favorite time was getting ready for nap or bedtime. We would snuggle under the covers to read a story, say bedtime prayers, and sing lullaby songs. I had the privilege of traveling with them a couple different times, seeing all the places that were special to their family for one reason or another. There was a difference in age between the girls, but it never appeared to be a problem. The oldest was just as willing to be silly and play make-believe games with her younger sister as the youngest was to watch movies or play board games with her older sister. During my time with them, I always felt more like part of the family than the hired help. They shared so much love and joy as a family that it overflowed to everyone they met. God knew exactly what I needed during my time away from school.

           

I learned a lot about God’s unconditional love for us during the time I spent with these girls. About how He chose us and has adopted us as His own. During that year He placed a seed in my heart that I know will grow one day grow regarding adoption.  It wasn’t that these girls were adopted or that I felt like I was their mother, because they already had a wonderful mom. Instead I learned how to love a child that God placed in my care that wasn’t my own. I learned that I would do anything to show them that love and protection on the days they were driving me nuts just as much as the days they were perfect angels.  I learned that God was preparing me to one day love that way again.

            

Even though I don’t see the girls as often as I’d like, I still love them and pray for them often. God knew I needed that family the year after graduation to build up some of the insecurities I’d accumulated throughout my college career. They were my away from home family. They in no way replaced the family I know and love here in Minnesota, but God showed me that love isn’t something that is finite and has to be divided when we start to love more people. Instead, love multiplies with each person God places in our lives. We shouldn’t be afraid that if we start to let more people experience our love it will detract from the love we are able to give to those already experiencing it. God is love and He will overflow to who ever He places in our lives, as long as we step out in faith and allow ourselves to love, whoever it may be: an orphan down the street or halfway around the world, a difficult friend or fun loving co-worker, a sister who will give up her weekend to spend time with you or one who forgets your birthday, someone special you're too afraid let in on the secret or one who should know but may just need a reminder. Whoever it is, there's no time like the present to let your love multiply!

           

I’ll leave you with one of God’s descriptions of love so you know what it looks like:

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always perseveres. Love never fails.” ~1 Corinthians 13:4-8a (NIV)

Have a blessed day (or month with how frequently I've been posting, sorry friends!)

Perfect Imperfections

I am what some may describe as a perfectionist. I may not be the type of perfectionist that is super organized or has my room clean all the time (or ever) but when it comes to setting and achieving goals or expecting the best out of myself at all times, I fit the perfectionist profile. I’m a list person. I make a list of things that need to be done then check them off after they’ve been completed. (Sometimes I add things to my list that I’ve already completed, just so I can check them off.) I like structure and order, rules and clearly defined expectations so I know what to do and when it’s been completed correctly. Don’t get me wrong, I can go with the flow and be flexible (let’s be honest, most people don’t survive Africa without at least a little flexibility) but I am most comfortable when I feel I am in control. I don’t mean to say that I am delusional enough to think that I can control the people around me, the circumstances of life, or things like the weather, but sometimes I am delusional enough to think that if I feel in control of a situation, then I can make it turn out just the way I want it. God has been working for many years to break me of my delusion with slow but steady progress. It’s one of the non-checked items on my to-do list.

            

The second attribute that many may ascribe to me is I am optimistic. Some may even say that I am an ultra-optimist. Not only is the glass half-full but it also probably contains the best water you’ve ever tasted in your life or better yet a milk chocolate mocha! I was one of those people who got weights thrown at my head during 6am strength and conditioning for soccer because I was so chipper and sure that it was going to be a great workout session, a sentiment not shared by my fellow teammates.  I’ve been wired to see the bright side of things, which at times has served me very well.

           

Putting these two attributes together you could describe me as an overly optimistic perfectionist. My ultra optimism at times plays into my delusion that I can complete things perfectly. When I was younger, particularly high school and college, I thought that I could live a perfect example of Christ for the people around me. I set high expectations for my self and was driven by my optimistic outlook that I may actually be able to make all the right decisions so that Christ would be glorified. My intentions were pure and the result was everyone thought I was a really nice person. Now this may come as a shock for some of you, but I am actually not perfect. Of course I made poor decisions and thought things that were wrong, did things that were wrong, and felt things that were wrong. I misunderstood people’s intentions and was hurt and angry and bitter and confused and sad and at times felt very much out of control. But instead of expressing those feelings and confess my wrong actions, I tried to hide them and only let people see the good in me. Everyone knew I was a Christian, so if they saw the bad in me, how would that reflect on what they thought about Christ? I was afraid my imperfections would reflect poorly on my savior. Whenever I made bad decisions or had negative feelings towards someone or something, I did my best not allow them to show, fooling a lot of my friends and myself, that I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing.

            

Throughout college and the years that followed, God began to show me the error of my ways and through various circumstances helped me willingly surrender my control to where it rightfully belongs, in His capable Hands. This summer, our small group from church has been going through Louie Giglio’s Passion conference video series. For those of you who haven’t seen or heard of it, I highly encourage you to check it out. This Monday, we watched part 2 of his Hope series, when life hurts the most. This video talked about using our suffering as a megaphone for Christ. Something that struck me during his talk was when he said it was OK to wish that things could have been done differently or wish that we didn’t have to go through the suffering we experience. Looking back at events in my life that caused suffering, I always tried to spin them to the positive or pretend like everything was alright, sometimes lying to my friends, lying to myself, and lying to God. I know that God used my suffering for something good, to help me develop perseverance or to know how to relate to someone going through similar circumstances, but that doesn’t mean that the event that caused my suffering was good.  Part of what it means to be human is to experience a wide variety of thoughts and emotions, even Christ went through periods of anger and sadness, joy and elation, grief and mourning through different events of His human life. It is ok for me to acknowledge my struggles and weaknesses to those around me. We live in a fallen world where not everything turns out exactly as we plan. It’s ok to acknowledge our pain and suffering and the emotions that go along with it. At the same time, we must cling to the hope that is found in Christ. While his human side struggled with the emotions and uncertainties we encounter ever day, being God he was able to conquer pain and suffering through his death on the cross. In our suffering, we must be real and allow our weakness, not necessarily our strength to glorify what Jesus did on that day.

           

Monday night after we watched the video and everyone went home, my brother received a phone call from a friend in another Bible study he’s involved in at church. That Derek, one of his friends in the group, had passed away at 23 years old. He was out running and collapsed, no one really knows the cause of death. If I’m going to be real and honest, I didn’t know him well, but I am still sad and confused. I don’t know why he lived only 23 years and I’ve already gotten to live 27. I don’t know why God chose now to take him away. From conversations I had with him and the stories my brother and his other friends have told me about him I know that he is home and having a way better time than we are, which is the hope that I’ve been clinging to this week. He will be missed by everyone who knew him and everyone who was encouraged by his contagious smile that welcomed you in the doors at church every Sunday night.

            

I think I’ll always have perfectionistic tendencies and an optimistic outlook on life, it’s part of who God created me to be. But that doesn’t mean I will try to hide my imperfections or negative experiences as readily anymore. God is strongest when I am weakest, making my imperfections the perfect opportunity to trust and glorify Him for all that He did on the cross and all He continues to do in our lives.

“But he (Jesus) said to me (Paul), ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ …That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weakness, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

~2 Corinthians 12:9a, 10

Be blessed by your imperfections. When you are weak, then He is strong! Have a wonderful week!

Up North

I had the amazing opportunity to spend an extended weekend with my family and friends up at our cabin in little Hackensack, MN. It's one of my favorite places to hang out with fun people, relax, and enjoy the beauty of God's creation. My experience was just the blessing from God I needed after a busy start to summer. Here are a few photos from my visit so you can share in the blessing.

My brother and roommate/brother's girlfriend posing as Paul Bunyan and his sweetheart during my roomie's first visit to the fun little town of Hackensack. I know what you're thinking and no it's not weird that my roommate and brother are dating. I think its wonderful.

Posing with a life size version of Lucette, Paul Bunyan's sweetheart in town.

My aunt enjoying a favorite cabin pastime, reading a good book outside in the beauty of God's creation.

My sister reading one of our favorite books next to the fire.

The hammock is one of my favorite places to  hang out, especially when there is a fire going and I've got a great book to enjoy.

No experience up north would be complete without eating our fill of the ooey, gooey, chocolately goodness of s'mores fresh from the fire.

We are lucky to have a cabin that faces west and allows us to experience the sunset each night. Every sunset is a little bit different but I'm glad for digital technology because I think I'd go broke trying to print off all the pictures I take of this scene every summer.

This sunset was a different night than the previous picture, but I love the vibrant orange and red.

My parents enjoying the sunset from the best seat in the house.  They have been a great example of love and commitment, leaving a legacy of faith and prayer to everyone they meet.

One last picture of the sunset from our dock out in the water.

The long weekend was the perfect way to relax, rejuvenate, and experience the everyday blessings of God's handiwork. Since I've returned from my respite up north, God has continued to teach and provided stories to share about his love and faithfulness so stay tuned for future posts. In the mean time, enjoy the beauty and majesty of God's glorious creation all around you.  Be blessed my friends!

Jamaica!

My trip to Jamaica was a quick one, but I am so glad I was able to go. It got off to a rocky start with my flight out of Minneapolis being delayed due to communication failures throughout central Florida. I began to worry about the connection from Miami to Kingston and my bag not making it on the plane. I had all my personal items in my carry-on but all the equipment I was bringing had to be checked. Turns out, there was a torrential rainstorm in Miami so my connection was also delayed and I had nothing to worry about. On the flight from Minneapolis to Miami, I sat next to a kid making his way down to Columbia to visit his sister who is doing mission work there. He was planning to stay there for 2 months of the summer to learn about what she is doing and help with her ministry. We were able to spend a little time talking about our faith and heart for international missions.  It was a cool divine encounter to start the trip.

           

Once I arrived safely in Kingston, I learned that the team was unable to complete the surgery as planned. Instead, the first two days of the trip were spent running a clinic where candidates for future surgeries were determined and treatment was administered for more conservative tone management. Primarily, the population we are working with have had injuries to their brain that cause abnormal tone responses in their muscles, making them tighter or difficult to move the way a child wants them to. This can sometimes be controlled or lessened through medication or muscle injections, both only temporary fixes. The surgery is permanent but is not always the best option due to the different types of muscle tone responses to brain injury. Long story short, clinic is used to determine the candidates who would be most successful with surgery and who would benefit from more conservative care. My role is to teach them how to use their muscles once tone is controlled, how to complete stretches to lengthen tight muscles, or teach them how to move with the tone they have to improve their function. I also help give out adaptive equipment such as walkers or braces so they can safely be more independent.

            

My next divine encounter I discovered at the hotel. My roommate was the nurse of the team and turned out to be a strong, Christian woman. She went to the same Bible college as my mom and worked as a camp director before feeling called to nursing. We had long conversations at the end of each day about faith, family, love, and life. It was so encouraging to hear her God stories and bond as sisters in Christ.

The view from our balcony at the hotel, perfect spot for quiet time with God 

and great conversations with my roommate.

            

The second day of the trip, we went to a Children’s home where kids with special needs who had been abused or neglected by their families came for care and protection. I got spend time with many of the kids, assessing their individual needs, teaching staff how to complete exercises with them, and showing them different ways to position the kids for comfort and stretching. And because I am me, I brought a soccer ball. I have found that a soccer ball is one of the most useful, easily transportable therapy tools for international outreach. It’s helpful for balance training, strengthening, and best of all the kids have no idea they are doing therapy. I worked with one gentleman in particular who surprised me with his soccer prowess. The injury to his brain causes him to walk with significant bend in his knees, hips and ankles in what’s referred to as crouch gait pattern. To walk this way takes a significant amount of energy and looks extremely unstable. But this kid sure could kick a soccer ball! He would likely never play an organized game of soccer in his life, but his face lit up each time he showed off his skills.

The team enjoying ice cream cones at Devonhouse, so delicious!

            

Day three was spent meeting more patients, making customized braces, and then handing those braces out to their new owners. There may have also been a little kicking the soccer ball around in the hospital’s grassy waiting area with some of the more mobile kids. My last day was an opportunity to relax by the hotel pool and explore the park across the street for a little exercise before our flight departed in the afternoon. All in all, it was a fantastic experience.

            

I’ve had a lot of passions and dreams in my life and ideas about what I wanted to be when I grew up: a singer, author and illustrator, teacher, soccer coach, and doctor/missionary just to name a few. I had an opportunity this weekend to read over a prayer journal I kept over the last year. It was fascinating to me how God has orchestrated the events of my life to utilize my dreams and passions in ways that I never would have imagined. I may not sing on a stage, but I help kids learn about worship through music at church and help my patients through difficult tasks by singing with them. I may not be a published author or picked up a set of markers to draw pictures for my stories, but God has given me an outlet for my desire to write and share my thoughts on paper (or the internet I guess.) I am a teacher and a coach in my role as a physical therapist, teaching kids about pain so it’s not so scary and coaching them through each exercise. He has also given me an outlet for coaching soccer with the club where I grew up playing. And I may not be a medical doctor, but He has opened up a world of opportunity for international missions through my job as a physical therapist that I never would have dreamed about when I first thought about physical therapy as a career. I can provide people hope and healing through the tools and skills He has given me as a physical therapist to reach those who are desperate for both right where I am and wherever else He calls me to go. I am so excited to see what He has in store next!

How Great is our God part 2

            On to part 2 of the week God rocked my world. Monday was wrapping up as I tried to finish my daily paperwork, when a co-worker approached me and asked if I would be interested in going to Jamaica with a group of local doctors. I told her I would be interested in learning more details about the trip, i.e. cost, dates, what I’d be doing, etc. As she began to describe the purpose of the trip, I knew it was something I would love to do, but as more details emerged I knew there were a few major roadblocks to making the trip a reality: a) my passport had been missing for the last 6 months, b) the week the trip was scheduled immediately followed a PTO freeze due to upgrades in our documenting system and we were already short staffed, c) the doctors were planning to leave in less than 2 weeks. And so the prayers began.

            When I first began my job in October, I was required to bring my driver’s license and a second form of photo identification to prove that I truly was who I said I was, so I brought my passport. After they made a copy of it and returned it to me, I made sure to put it somewhere safe. Turns out it was somewhere really safe because when my parents announced an international family vacation to celebrate their 35^th anniversary, I tried to remember where that safe place was and so began the search. I searched my desk at work, my desk at home, all the bags I brought to and from work, my car, and even all my jacket pockets. I would start a new search every month or two, rechecking each place I’d looked the times before in hopes that it would miraculously appear. This is why finding that passport became the first item I began to pray about. If God truly wanted me on this trip, we’d have to find the passport first. When I returned home Monday night, I went to through the same routine of searching in all the places it could be at my apartment, but it was still safe and nowhere to be found. When I got to work on Tuesday, I started emailing the doctor heading up the trip to learn more details, but was hesitant to commit since my passport was still missing. During some free time, I decided to search my desk again, from top to bottom. I looked through all my notes, folders, books and papers I’d accumulated in the last 6 months with no luck. When I got to the bottom drawer to go through each folder individually, like I had before, I happened to glance toward the front. There, standing upright, safely tucked between the front of the drawer and the raised bottom, was a small navy blue teepee. I did a small happy dance and squeal of delight at my discovery. With my passport now in hand, I knew that God wanted me to go on this trip so I had to be obedient and ask for the time off, even if it was a long shot.

            Once I knew the dates of the trip, I sent an email to my supervisor, officially requesting the time off. I also sent an email to the members of my small group requesting that my friends pray that God would work everything out if I am supposed to go on this trip. Over the next couple days, I received emails and texts, letting me know that each person was praying. I also received an email from my supervisor saying that my time off was denied, we were just too short staffed and it was too close to the date of departure to move things around. I understood and sent an email to the doctor I’d been in contact with thanking him for the opportunity and to keep me in mind for future trips. The next day, one of my co-workers said she heard I was going to Jamaica. I was a little confused until my supervisor told me that they would be able to work it out so I could go on the trip. I guess the doctor made a phone call to request my time off as well and they were able to convince a couple other physical therapists to cover my time so I will be able to go down to Jamaica with the group. I leave next Tuesday!

            I am still in awe of how God worked everything out. He taught me that He is so much bigger than I can imagine and capable of accomplishing seemingly impossible things. He also showed me that I am surrounded by an incredible support system of great Christian men and women. My friends and family encouraged me and lifted me up in prayer all week long and together we were able to celebrate his amazing blessing. As I prepare this weekend to go on the trip, I would ask for your prayers as well. Pray that God would prepare the way for the work that we are going to do at the clinic and that the people who need our services would find a way to get there. Pray for his protection as we travel to, from and within Kingston. Pray for the people that I will be traveling with, I don’t know any of their stories or motivation for the trip. Pray for good conversation and relationship building opportunities. And pray that God would be glorified through this trip and everything that we do. I hope you all have a fantastic weekend and I can’t wait to share what God is up to in Jamaica when I get back!

How great is our God part 1

This week, God has rocked my world with reminders of how big and incredible and faithful He is.  I have 2 stories to tell, one is the 10 year anniversary of one of the first times I began to understand the faithfulness of God, and the second is an amazing turn of events that I am still trying to process and understand that happened this week. Because I can be long winded in my story telling, this will be a 2-part entry.  I’ll start with the story from my past and in the next post, relay the events that occurred this week to spark an incredible adventure that will be taking place in 10 days.

            Ten years ago, on May 10 to be exact, was my junior Prom. I’d been given the go ahead my surgeon to start walking without crutches after six weeks of using them to get around following my third knee surgery.  I was instructed to continue wearing my knee brace while walking for 6 more weeks, but thankfully my dress had enough puff to it cover up. I was going with a boy I’d been flirting with for awhile and was sweet enough to ask me even though we weren’t sure if I’d be able to attend crutch-free until the week before the dance. I was going in a group with a bunch of my close friends and we’d gone all, out renting a limo and a hot tub for the after Prom party. My grandma had even given me money to get my hair and nails done professionally. I could hardly wait for the day to come.

            My grandma, my mom’s mom, was a very special grandma. She attended every single soccer game, hockey game, track meet, choir concert, play, orchestra concert, and major life event that my brother, sister, and I had. For the games and events that were recorded to be broadcast on the local cable station, you could always pick out her voice, offering words of praise and encouragement. She would often stop by in the afternoons when we were done with school to say hello and bring us treats. She owned a cabin in northern Minnesota that she shared with us, making us feel like it was our own.  She worked hard around the property to keep it looking beautiful, but always took time to swim with us in the lake or take us into town for ice cream. Every birthday, we would wake up to chocolate donuts in the refrigerator and a bouquet of flowers, just so we knew she was thinking of us. She was never too busy to chat or show how much she loved us.

            My grandma started getting sick when I was a sophomore in high school. I knew it was cancer, but at the time I didn’t really understand what that meant. I knew that she lost her hair during chemotherapy and that she was more tired than usual, but she continued to come to all of our events, so I thought that it must not have been too bad. She even came to Florida when I went on choir tour to Disney World the Spring of my sophomore year. The week before Prom, she was in the hospital and I went to visit her. I wanted to show her my professionally manicured nails that she had graciously paid for and my Prom dress. She loved them and kept telling me how beautiful I was. I was still using the crutches for balance occasionally, so my secret plan was to stop by the hospital on the day of Prom, once my hair was all done and I was more steady on my feet, so she could get the full effect of how I would look that night. After my morning hair appointment, I went home to pick up my dress before heading back up to the hospital. The only thing was, everyone was home. That whole week, nobody was ever home all at the same time. There was always someone up at the hospital to sit with my grandma so she wouldn’t be alone. But when I returned from the salon, there they all were. My dad then informed me that my grandma had passed away. First I was shocked, because I had no idea she was that sick. And then I started crying. I started crying and I couldn’t stop. For those of you who know me, this probably isn’t a surprise because I am a crier by nature. It’s not uncommon for me to cry at the mention of a Hallmark commercial. But this day, I cried for a long time. So long, that I decided I didn’t want to go to Prom anymore. My eyes were all puffy and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep the tears from spilling out. My family convinced me that my grandma would have wanted me to go and I had to work really hard to stop crying so I could enjoy myself.  But every time I tried to stop, something else would remind me that my beloved grandma was gone.

            Finally, about half an hour before it was time to meet my date where we were going to take pictures, my mom suggested we pray. We prayed that the tears would stop and I would have a fun night with my friends, because that’s what my grandma would have wanted. After the prayer, I got up, washed my face, put on my make-up, and headed out the door to meet everyone. I didn’t cry the rest of the night, it was almost like I was unable to. My friends, most of whom knew my grandma, and my date were supportive and helped me to focus on being present in the moment and enjoy every aspect of the night.  We rode our limo around town ending at a steakhouse for a delicious dinner. We entered a hotel conference room that had been transformed into a magical oasis of friends, music, and twinkling lights. And we danced and laughed the night away, taking way too many pictures that I still have tucked away in albums somewhere. I loved every minute of it.

            My grandma taught me that life is about sharing moments together. She was always there to support me, ready and willing to share her love through the precious gift of time. The night was more special because of the legacy she left behind. Through the experience, God taught me that He is bigger than any emotional breakdown I can throw at Him. When I rely on Him for strength, I can do anything. He wasn’t satisfied with being my rock for one night, but continued to show His strength the whole next week. My grandma asked if I would sing at her funeral, and while I never made it through a rehearsal without breaking down and crying, God kept my voice strong until the very last verse of the very last song as her casket was rolled down the aisle. To a 17-year-old girl with no control over her emotions, the way God carried me through the experience and kept my emotions in check, laid a firm foundation of trust in his faithfulness and strength that I’ve since been able to rely on whenever life has spun out of my control.

            As for what happened this week? He is building upon that foundation he laid for me as a teenager, revealing in awesome and incredible ways that He is still in control. I just need to trust and rely on his strength for whatever comes next But that will have to be a story for next time…

Be blessed friends!

Love is in the air

I am a hopeless romantic.  I enjoy stories of relationships and love triumphing over any circumstance. I enjoy unrealistic chick flicks, cheesy books involving boy meets girl plot lines, and of course the real life love stories of family and friends. There have been four great love stories in my life, concocted by my own imagination involving real life characters. You could call them the ones that got away, the ones that were never meant to be, or the ones I hoped would be but just never were.  Each crush represented a major time in my life, junior high, high school, college, and graduate school, the guys I secretly (or in some cases, not so secretly) wanted God to set me up with as the “one” I would fall in love with and marry.  However, through a recent turn of events, I’m beginning to understand that God may have other plans.

            Spring is definitely in the air, and along with the aroma of flowers, rainfall, and pollen, love is wafting through the air. It seems as though the all the birds dancing around the trees and many of my friends are pairing off to enjoy it’s sweet fragrance. I’ve been single most of my life and most of the time, feel content with that as my Facebook status. For some reason, during my quiet time with God a couple weeks ago, I was feeling less than content with my lack of romantic encounters and proceeded to question when my time would come.  I laid my heart before him and continued to be a bad mood all afternoon (just ask my sister.) I was tempted to skip church that evening and dwell on why God would be withholding a man to love from my life.  Was I doing something wrong? Did God not want me to get married and have a family?  Should I let go of that dream to pursue something else God wants for me?

            This same weekend, I was reading the last book of a long series that I’d been following for the last 5 years. The author had weaved together a beautiful love story that I had rooted for from the very beginning. The two main characters had overcome many obstacles and misunderstandings, developing a friendship that eventually lead to something more. However, the last few books in the series were not going the way that I wanted.  She introduced a new character that I thought I no right to interfere with the love story I wanted to develop.  The more I read, the angrier I became with the author for ruining the story I wanted to see happen. Little did I know that God was trying to teach me something and the story was written that way for his purpose.

            My sister ended up convincing me to go to church that evening and it was an incredibly powerful service. It was about Christ suffering and pouring his heart out to God in the garden the night he was betrayed. He was pleading with God that his cup be taken from Him. Was there any other way to escape the pain and suffering he was about to endure? In the end, he chose obedience and surrendered to the will of his father.  He chose to drink the cup and lay his life down to atone for the sins of the world.  On each of our seats, there was a note card with the picture of a cup on it. We were given instructions to write on the card what was in our cup.  What was it that we were struggling with? I wrote down my questions and insecurities about my relationship status, filling my cup with all my hurt and frustrations. We were then instructed to place our cups at the foot of the cross and let Jesus take them.

            The pastor explained that we are human, not equipped to bear the burdens laid before us. But Christ was both fully human and fully God.  His human side struggled with the task set before him pleading that the cup be passed from Him.  Because of His human experience he can relate with our struggles and understand how we suffer because of them. But because He is God, he is able to drink of the cup and bear not only his struggles but ours as well. If we surrender our cups to the cross, he is faithful to take them upon himself.  That’s what he accomplished by dying on the cross and rising to life again three days later. Our sin and brokenness leads to death, but through Christ we are given new life. Our cups are no longer filled with pain and frustration, but filled with the joy, hope, and peace found only through Christ.

            I didn’t instantaneously feel better. I did feel a sense of peace when I left the church but didn’t come to the “aha” moment until later in the week. It began on Tuesday when I received an out of the blue email from one of my abovementioned crushes asking for some advice. We ended up catching up briefly on the phone and I was told that my name just popped in his head when the situation came up. Two days later, a co-worker and I decided that we were not going to eat lunch at our desks as we usually do and headed to the cafeteria.  On the way, my friend and I are chatting when I see two people walking by on the other side of the hallway. One of them looks familiar but it was until he greeted me that I realized it was my crush from junior high. He had been working at the same place as me but our paths had never crossed until that day.  It also happened to be his last day of work as he was moving on to a different job. I hadn’t seen him since junior high, we’d worked at the same place for months, and I just happened to run into him on his last day. I began to get the picture of what God was trying to tell me and I started laughing out loud after the encounter.

            I have all these ideas in my head about what I think love should be or what a good love story looks like. All of the guys I had crushes on throughout my life would have made for great leading roles in my own love story, but God was trying to show me he has something better. In a week’s time, he could bring a few characters from the stories I’d concocted back for a special appearance to show that He is actually the author of my story and is in control of orchestrating how I meet my future husband.  With the timing of this revelation being around Easter, he also reminded me that I’ve already experienced the greatest love story of all time. Jesus loved me so much that He died a horrific death on a cross so that I may have eternal life with Him.  I have faith that when God wants me to find my husband and begin a family, I will. Until that time, I will rest in the promise that my identity is in Christ and not my relationship status.  His love is more than enough.

           

            

There's always sunshine after rain...or rainbows thanks Andy ;)

I think that this is the first time in Minnesota history that Spring actually started when the calendar said it was supposed to start. We've had warm sunshine and lots of rain for the past few weeks.  The effect is green grass and a hint of flowers budding on the trees. I've always loved Spring, it is a time of renewal and bright colors scattered throughout God's beautiful creation. One of my favorite Spring occurrences is sun showers. I love the smell of rain and how the sun casts rays of light over everything even as the water falls from the sky. Plus, the result is often a gorgeous rainbow, a timeless reminder of God's faithfulness and love. I always try to capture the rich colors and majesty by taking a picture of every rainbow I see, but it never captures the full experience. I found a quote, I think in a calendar I had during college, that said it takes both sunshine and rain to make a rainbow. Rain is usually associated with dreariness. The world is gray and dull and at times depressing, especially when it persists for days on end.

The past three weeks, I have been working overtime at work.  As you all know, I love my job and consider it a huge blessing in my life. But by the third week of overtime I was stressed, exhausted, and crabby. It wasn't just the overtime that got to me, but the business as well.  It seemed like a million people needed to be seen in that three weeks and we were all running around from patient to patient with little time to do paperwork or make phone calls or eat lunch.  I came home exhausted every night, made myself dinner (or ate what my roommate cooked) and went to bed. I left all my chores to the weekend leaving my living space disorganized with heaps of clothes and mail and dishes strewn as far as the eye could see during the week. Then Saturday morning, instead of using the time as I normally would, lounging with coffee and my Bible or a good book, I tried to get a handle on the whirlwind of stuff that had accumulated during the week, never feeling like I was caught up on anything.  My world felt like one big, endless rainstorm.

God knows me really well. He knew just when to allow the clouds to break so I could see the sunshine through the rain. Sometimes it was an encouraging word from a co-worker, sometimes it was a series of cancellations so I could get some of my work done, sometimes it was a text from my roommate letting me know she was praying for me, and sometimes it was extra time in the morning where I could spend time resting in His presence.  He'd gently remind me not to rely on my own strength but to rest in Him.  He'd provide the words of encouragement I needed to give the best of myself when I was afraid I was failing and giving less than what I wanted. He surrounded me with people who covered me with prayer, gave of their time to listen while I talked through my struggles, and built me up with words of affirmation, speaking to me in my language of love.

The biggest blessing came last Sunday, the day that marked the end of my extended overtime period.  I had finished my laundry and cleaned my room the Saturday before. I awoke to birds singing outside my window and the sun streaming in beneath the blinds in my room.  My roommate and I headed to Caribou with our Bibles and journals and spent a few hours reading, studying, pouring our hearts out to God, and talking through some of what we felt God laying on our hearts.  I left feeling adequately caffeinated and my soul restored. We then headed to the lake for a walk/run (she ran while I walked to preserve what little mileage I have left in my knee).  It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and there was a slight breeze coming off the lake.  I listened to the Hillsong Pandora station as I walked and enjoyed a private worship session amidst the hundreds of people welcoming Spring with the same idea as my roommate and I.  My roommate went 2 laps so I ended before she did and found a bench in the sun where I could sit to reread "The Hunger Games" before the movie came out.  We returned home and I read off and on in my favorite window seat until it was time for church.  The message at church was about Philippians 2:1-3 addressing the need for unity in the church, doing nothing out of self ambition or vain conceit but putting others before yourself. We are called to be like-minded or having the same love, the love demonstrated by what Christ did on the cross. When we live out the love Christ displayed for us and place others needs above our own we will experience a joy that is found only Christ, grow and mature in our faith, and effectively share the hope of Christ with people in desperate need of Him. The night ended with spontaneous fellowship at Old Chicago Pizza including about 30 people from church.  I got to meet new friends and spend time with old ones. It was cool to see how the night's message applied to real life.

Often God sends us rain so that we can grow and mature into who he intended us to be just like the flowers and green grass of Spring won't appear until the ground has first been saturated by the rain and then enriched by the sun. And sometimes it takes a little rain in our lives to appreciate the sun. I don't think I would have fully appreciated Sunday had it not come after the craziness of the previous weeks. Look for the sunshine during your rainy season.  No matter how long the rainy season lasts, it is always only a season.  The sun will come out again, sometimes even before the rain has ended. God is faithful.  He has placed a promise of that faithfulness in clouds through the brilliance of the rainbow that appears after the storm has passed.

  

Thank God for Friday (TGFF)

Have you ever had one of those weeks? I’ve been fighting something that has invaded my respiratory system leaving me coughing, blowing my nose, and sleeping most hours of the day. From Saturday to Tuesday I think I slept more hours than I was awake, including through the Super Bowl, and still didn’t feel like it was enough. With the initiation of a round of antibiotics and the assistance of Dayquil, I returned to work on Wednesday. The rest of the week seemed to move in slow motion, I seemed to move in slow motion. I’d go to bed at 8:30-9pm, get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, then back to bed. I was glad when Friday rolled around because that meant Saturday came next and I could sleep in as long as I wanted. God had plans for my Friday though, more than just another day to move through in slow motion, eagerly anticipating when I could return to my bed.

I truly love my job. I think that if you were to ask me when I was in school, what my ideal job would look like, it’d be the job I am working right now. As I’ve alluded to before, I’ve had a few (five total) knee surgeries during my soccer career. With each surgery, came a bout of physical therapy to make sure I was ready to return to my beloved sport. This naturally led to an interest in studying injuries and rehabilitation while trying to figure out my life’s course in college, which in turn, led me to physical therapy school after graduation. Now, in my life, I’ve always worked jobs that involved kids: baby-sitter, one-on-one caregiver in an elementary school, nanny, soccer coach, daycare employee, etc. So adding pediatric to my title as physical therapist wasn’t a huge stretch. The job I have now has even exceeded my expectations of what it means to be a pediatric physical therapist.  I get to work with young athletes to ensure they are ready to get back to competition after an injury, I get to snuggle babies on an almost daily basis, I get to put on my imagination hat and take magic carpet rides to the jungle so we can practice our animal poses, and I get to teach kids how to do things they’ve never been able to do before. Nothing compares to the joy and pride on their faces when they switch their focus from what they can’t do, to what they can do. Their whole lives, people have looked at them with pity, thinking about what a hard life they must have because of all the things they can’t or won’t be able to do. At my job, we get to show them all the things they can do or get to do that they never thought possible.  Their perseverance and hard work in the face of adversity is inspiring and an amazing blessing.

On this particular sleepy Friday, I was again reminded of why I love my job so much. I met a new patient who has very little verbal communication. While walking on the treadmill, I feel her hand sneak up behind me and land on top of my head.  I look and her lips are moving slightly. Her mother asks: “Are you praying for her?” I see an ever so slight nod and feel a smile come across my face. Here is a child who has difficulty communicating with the people around her, but no problem whatsoever communicating with God. And she choose to speak with God about me, a person she met just 10 minutes before. Later, I worked with someone who had been coming for a while. It was one of my last appointments of the day and I was feeling pretty tired. At the end of our time together we decided to try something different. I put her in a piece of equipment we have at the clinic, and for the first time in a long time, she walked! After her short walk was complete, she was smiling, mom was smiling, the interpreter was smiling, and I was smiling. I was so proud of her perseverance through pain and discomfort to accomplish something that was really difficult for her. It was such a cool moment.

I in no way have things all figured out, but here is what I learned from this week. We don’t always feel like doing what God has called us to do.  We may be tired, worn down, discouraged, feeling inadequate, or intimidated by the weight of what God is calling us to do. But God will never call us to something he won’t give us strength to complete. There are times where we need to take time to prepare for the call.  For me that included going to school and learning about how to be a physical therapist.  There will be times when we need to rest and let our bodies and souls rejuvenate for a time so we are better able to complete the work, like my four day sleep fest to get over whatever crazy bug infected me. Then there is a time for the resting period to be over and we need to get back whatever the call may be. Even if when it’s difficult, God will provide the strength we need and bless our obedience, re-energizing us at exactly the right time. He is so good.

What is God calling you to do?  Will you take a step of faith?

“There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but the same God works all of them in all men.” ~1 Corinthians 12:4,5

Blessings in Disguise

Sometimes our everyday blessings arrive in packages that we don’t recognize. Those types of blessings often take the form of heartache, disappointment, and pain. Laura Story has written song called “Blessings” that if you haven’t heard before, I encourage you to find it and really listen to it. The chorus says: “What if your blessings come through raindrops? What if your healing comes through tears? What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know you’re near? What if trials of this life, are your mercies in disguise?” I have experienced many blessings that felt more like trials and heartbreak while going through them. But it was through those events that God revealed part of his character and the love he has for me that shaped me into the person I am today. Here is one example:

Everyone says that college is the best four years of your life. As a new high school graduate, I eagerly anticipated what the next four years of my life would bring, envisioning late night escapades every night with the hundreds of friends I was bound to make, romantic rendezvous in the gazebos scattered about campus to escape the light drizzle of rain falling from the sky, leading my team to play-offs while setting records for goals scored while earning MVP, dazzling my classmates with brilliant insights into the history and literature we would study, and playing on a soccer team with Christians who shared my passion for playing for an audience of one. In high school, I had the late night adventures with my friends, my fair share of romantic kisses in the rain, scored a number of goals for the soccer teams I played for, and gave a graduation speech at commencement that dazzled my classmates with my brilliance (not really, but let’s just go with it) so I thought if college is the epitome of happiness and adventure all of those experiences would be multiplied by 10 when I got there. I chose my particular college because I wanted to play on a Division I soccer team at a Christian school. My teammates on my high school and club teams were fantastic girls, but we shared different values and I usually felt like an outsider.  I thought that by choosing a Christian school, it would be different.  We would all be like-minded, build each other up, and play for the glory of God. I was excited for this new experience couldn't wait for the best four years of my life to begin.

           

Once preseason started my Freshmen year, it was clear that my experience was going to be different from what I envisioned. There were other Christians on the team so I wasn’t the only one, but I was made fun of and ostracized for my beliefs to a further degree than what I experienced on my high school and club teams growing up by a large group of my teammates. I was left out of parties and social gatherings, belittled in front of my teammates and other athletes, and gossiped about behind my back. To compound the problem, soccer and schoolwork consumed my entire life. If I wasn’t at practice, I was studying, if I wasn’t studying, I was traveling to a game, if we weren’t traveling I had a lab I had to make up. There wasn’t a lot of time to make friends outside of the team. Further blows to my ego came in the male department. I had a few male acquaintances from my classes or on the guys’ soccer team, but a lot of them wouldn’t give me the time of day unless I was with someone they wanted to talk to. There were instances where I would smile and try to say hello after making eye contact, and they would look away, pretending not to see me at all. The self confidence and self esteem I’d prided myself on in high school, slowly disappeared until I was afraid to say anything at all when there were more than a few people present. This made my brilliant revelations to classmates difficult and it was a rare occasion that I would share my thoughts in class at all. My dreams of what college would be like slowly began to crumble leaving behind heartache and disappointment. I was hurt, confused, and often questioned my choice in schools.  I considered transferring numerous times and after one night in particular, began filling out an application to a different school. However, through it all, I felt God telling me to stay.

           

Though the first couple years of school were different than what I envisioned, God proved his faithfulness to me over and over.  I had a couple close friends that were a continual source of love and encouragement, people God sent as a life preserver to keep me from drowning during a difficult time. I eventually connected with FCA on campus, Fellowship of Christian Athletes, and found a group of people that shared my desire to display their gifts and talents for the glory of God.  I became involved with leadership, started leading worship during our meetings, and openly spoke and shared about my faith in a larger group setting. With the love and support of choice people God placed in my life, I decided to stay at the school. Even though it was difficult, I felt that it was where God wanted me to be, so I decided to come back for my Junior year, hoping that it would be different, trying to trust that God knew what was best.

           

Here is where God revealed one of the greatest blessings in disguise. It came in the form of a knee surgery the summer before preseason my Junior year. This was knee surgery number four making me a surgery veteran, but I was devastated by the timing.  We were getting a new soccer coach and I was excited about the upcoming season. My Freshmen year, I was an intermittent starter and if I didn’t start, was usually one of the first people off the bench. My Sophomore year that changed, my touch was off and I was getting less and less playing time. The decreased confidence in other areas of my life, manifest itself on the field.  The current coach’s style of coaching only compounded my confidence problem. He liked to point out mistakes in front of everyone and usually in not so nice terms. I was ready for a fresh start with a new coach after a summer of hard work to prepare for the season, but God had other plans. After the knee surgery, I red-shirted and diligently completed my rehab throughout the season.  I also took it upon myself to make sure my teammates had a different experience than I did. My new role was encourager and team builder. By taking my soccer performance out of the equation, I could focus on the people on the team, including those who were previously less than accepting of me when I first arrived. God taught me a lot about forgiveness and accepting his grace as sufficient, no matter what the circumstance. He taught me to love and pray for those who persecute me because it’s not my place to judge what they are doing when I may not understand why they are doing it. Their actions may not have had anything to do with me; I was just an easy target at the time. I was given a new perspective and a new purpose for my what my college experience would look like.  I started a team Bible study that steadily grew in numbers as well as depth of relationships.

            

While I never set records for number of goals scored, I found a greater purpose by investing in the people God placed on my team.  Even though I never experienced those romantic rendezvous in the gazeboes, I learned to trust God in all my relationships and in every circumstance. He did bless me with late night adventures with friends and memories that will last a lifetime, just on a smaller scale than I originally envisioned.  He turned my disappointment and heartache into something beyond what I could have hoped or imagined after graduating high school, and looking back now, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. College may not have been the best four years of my life, but I now have hope that the best is yet to come.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing on your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” ~James 1:2-4

Is there a blessing you are having a hard time recognizing in your life? Pray about it. Pray for a new perspective and strength in the mean time.  You can also share it with me and I’ll pray for you as well.  Praying is one of my favorite things J Have a blessed day!!