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.