My birthday fell on the next to last day of our trip.  By this point, we had spent endless hours working together, sitting next to each other on crowded buses, sharing tears, sweaty hugs, back rubs and meals.  The transparency of the members of that group made my heart melt.  I was challenged in ways that I was not prepared for as time and time again I found myself sharing testimonies and life lessons with my new forever friends.  One topic in particular came up during dinner on my birthday.  “What was the best thing that happened to you this year?”

To say that this past year has been anything less than life changing would be a lie.  I celebrated last years birthday surrounded by a huge group of friends and family at a pool party ….. which turned into a sand volleyball party …. which turned into a night out on the town.  That similar non-stop theme continued over the next several months as my circle of friends increased.  I spent the last year on the go, never at home, always with plans.  I tested boundaries and discovered some new limits.  I found genuine friendships, toyed with the idea of dating, and fought some relationship battles.  I trained for and completed a half marathon.  I transferred to a new, bigger badder office.  I moved (again).  I led a singles group, was a member of mentor, small group and divorce recovery group.  I built a playground, made Christmas cards, cleaned out flooded houses and collected toys for a service group.  I went on a mission trip.  Year number twenty-seven was…. full.

Picking one event that made last year so great is impossible.  As I begin the journey of my next year, I move forward feeling like I know myself better than ever before.  I am confident.  I have a healed heart.  I have a faith that is new and real.  So, I have to answer that question not with one amazing memory, but with the realization that my 27th year was the year that I feel like I finally figured it all out.  It’s a bold statement, but completely true.

Heres to year number 28!

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The seven days in Haiti was the most physically, emotionally and spiritually challenging week in my life, hands down.  I went prepared to deal with the extreme heat and not-so-great living conditions.  I was not prepared, however, for the emotional roller coaster that a week in a 3rd world county will take you on.  I witnessed scenes that left me heartbroken, angry, and hurt.  I also experienced pure joy as I had the opportunity to learn how to enjoy the simple things.  I am still in a state of awe and my emotions are all over the place as I process and recount the trip to friends and family.

I am left with lots of questions as I try to find my new normalcy.  How do I share what I saw?  What was I supposed to learn through this experience?  How am I going to use my life and my blessings to honor those that are not so fortunate?  How do I return to a country that takes for granted SO MANY comforts and securities without turning judgmental or bitter?  How is my heavy heart ever going to heal?

None of those are easy.  None of those are simple, one sentence answers.  All I know is that I have a long road ahead of me as I continue to process, learn and listen.  I prayed for God to rock my world through this trip.  Its crazy just how much He did just that.

I am a strong believer that pictures are worth a thousand words.  Here are a few from my week:

I had the amazing privilege of celebrating my birthday in Haiti.

This little girl was born just after the earthquake.

Our team!

Sidewalk chalk and endless walls to draw on.... a childs dream!

A widow and her three daughters that we were building a house for.

An all to common scene in Port Au Prince, Haiti.

Trash was everywhere, including the neighborhood streets with had VBS on.

One of the many sweet children we got to hang out with.

I found this baby all alone in one of the many tent cities. Heartbreaking.

Hard to look beyond the rubble.

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As the week in Haiti comes to a close, I am left with images of pain, fear and despair.  It has been hard to look past the rubble, debris and vast poverty.  Hard to see beyond the tents, beyond the piles of garbage, beyond the immense need.  The team and I have spent the last six days in a city that would easily break anyone’s heart, and we could easily have been discouraged.  Even feel helpless serving in a city that needs so much.

Today, the entire team had the privilege of serving together for the first time this week.  With one destination in mind and a renewed sense of camaraderie we made our way to a neighborhood that was devastated by the earthquake.  The goal: to lead Vacation Bible School.  We had no idea of the number of children that would show up and were given an area far from perfect to play our games.  But, as the kids met us at the bus with their smiles, all of our anxiety about the day was erased.

What ensued over the next several hours was nothing short of Gods perfect plan.  We made bracelets, colored pictures, had three-legged races, played with bubbles, sidewalk chalk and beach balls.  The language barrier didn’t stop any of us from reaching those kids. We laughed and hugged till our arms hurt.  We filled that street with the sounds of giggles and joyful children.  A smile and an outstretched hand knows no language.  We simply loved on those kids as if they were our own.

On the drive home tonight, we were all physically exhausted and sad knowing that our journey here in Haiti is coming to an end.  But, as I stared out the window of the bus, I was seeing the city through a brand new set of eyes.  I was seeing the city through the eyes of those children.  In their eyes, the city of Haiti is their home, not a place of foreign despair.  In their eyes any open space is the perfect spot for a game of soccer.  In their eyes, bubbles and sidewalk chalk are hours of thrilling entertainment.  In their eyes, there is no thought of the logistics of cleaning up their city.  In their eyes, they see pure, unbiased, joy in the simplest of things.

God has shown up this week in ways that I couldn’t have imagined.  We were told to leave all expectations in Atlanta, and to come to Haiti with open minds and open hearts.  I was given no warning of these new eyes though.  I am blown away by what a change in perspective can do.  There is in fact hope in Haiti.  There is love.  There is faith.  All you have to do is look at it through the eyes of a child.

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For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many. -Mark 10:45

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The weeks and months leading up to this moment have been nothing short of emotional and inspiring.  I have had sleepless nights worrying about financial support, sore muscles from the immunizations that were required, evenings given up to team meetings and a budget stretched to the max to accommodate supplies needed to travel to a third world country.  Its been an adventure in itself getting ready for this trip.  But, honestly, when so much could have gone wrong, nothing has.  In fact, this whole process of preparing to leave has been nothing short of one gigantic blessing after another.  One gigantic wake up call that God has had this whole trip planned way before I knew anything about it.

It’s funny how even when I am diving head first into a mission trip, I have tried to take control of the circumstances.  You would think that I would trust God to get me to where He wants me.  But instead, I worry and stress over the details.

I’ve been told to leave all expectations at the door.  To not assume that I am going to teach, reach or give hope to anyone.  Not to expect God to act or do a certain thing.  But instead, to get off that plane in Port-au-Prince with a willingness to serve and an open mind.  Allowing God to work through me in whatever way He sees fit.  And, most importantly, to show me what I need to learn.  I pack my bags to Haiti fully aware that God has a reason that I am going down there.  I am nervously awaiting to see just how much He is about to rock my world.

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It’s our Friday night, our moment.

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On a recent trip to south Georgia to see some friends, I arrived a few hours later than originally planed.  Thanks to Atlanta traffic and some last-minute birthday shopping I got to my destination a little behind schedule.  At dinner that night, I was presented with the following question: “So, since you were late arriving to our “appointment”, does that mean your next stop is also delayed?  The question was obviously meant as a joke, but unfortunately, the reality of it is true.  Although, they were tentative, I did have some plans for later that evening.  (That were later canceled!)  My life had officially become one appointment after another.

I arrived in Atlanta about 18 months ago.  From that moment on, I have been running and chasing.  Chasing the dream of being connected and loved in a city that connected me and that I loved.  Looking back on that time I realize how important and God-inspired it all was.  I needed to feel validated and important.  By joining those groups, by keeping up with the HUGE social circle, and by being involved with so much….. I was needed and wanted.  It had been awhile since I had felt that way.  It was a welcomed change and one that made my heart happy.

But, as I sit here on a Saturday morning, with no plans other than to have no plans I realize how insane it was.  I realize that something that I needed then may not be what I need now.  I realize that I wouldn’t appreciate the lack of plans today without having had countless Saturdays being double and triple booked.  I realize that I successfully chased down a dream, and I crossed the finish line with my head held high.

In the last few weeks I have been saying “no”, I have withdrawn from a group or two, I have blocked out large chunks of time on my calendar to purposely stay in.  It feels like a breath of fresh air.  It feels amazing to wake up after eight hours of sleep and be able to come home from work without anything to do that night.  It’s still an evolving plan, but I am chasing down the idea of having a margin.  To not be so stretched thin.

Its time to pack up the running shoes.  Its time to seek God’s next plan….. chase after a new dream.  All with the realization that it’s a work in progress.   Being okay with the idea that one chapter leads to another.  Being okay with the NEW, new and shiny.

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In a world where your relationships and friendships are defined via Facebook, and a disagreement is solved by a simple click of an Unfollow Button, you have to be very careful what you put out on the world-wide web.  You never know who is reading, who is checking out your latest photo upload or who may be offended with your latest status update.  Its a tricky world we now live in…. We are so open to sharing every part of our lives.  But, honestly, what is the cost?

I struggle tonight as I want to share with the whole world about a wonderful new person my life.  I want everyone to share in my joy, in the excitement, in the butterflies.  But, for the reasons listed above, I censor myself.  I don’t write in fear of the consequences, in fear of the hurt feelings, in fear of the lack of respect that it would portray.  Because, truth be told, I have tried to handle this new relationship trying to keep respect at the center.  Trying to be honest and upfront.  Trying to seek wise counsel, trying to choose words carefully, trying to avoid awkward situations, all the while keeping my own desires at bay.  Why would I change now?  I still want hearts to heal, I want whats best for everyone, whats best for me.  Its a tough balance to say the least.

In the mean time, I am here to tell you that I am blessed beyond measure.  I have visions of the future that make me smile, and a confidence in my heart like I’ve never had.  I have never been so thankful for a past that gives me clear direction for the future.  Never been in such awe of what is capable.

Heres to walking the fine line, to seeking God’s plan, to enjoying the moment…. and to the beginning.

Beginning of the sharing.

Beginning of us.

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Saturday morning started at 3am.  I was showered, dressed and on the road an hour later.  I spent the next five hours in the backseat of a car.  The passengers of the car included my dad, step mom and grandmother.  I watched the sun rise around 7am as we cruised down the highway.  We all had on uncomfortable dress clothes.  There wasn’t much talking.  Not because it was the middle of the night, but because we were all anxious and nervous and had no idea what to talk about.

As we pulled into Valdosta State University a little after 9am, all of us felt like our stomachs were in our throats.  After five hours worth of wrinkles and nerves we were all a complete mess.

My family and I walked into a crowded gymnasium and found some seats up close to the stage.  My mom and step dad had made the same five-hour drive and sat behind us.  My anxiety was through the roof as my parents found themselves sharing the same air for the first time in over a decade.  The tension only got worse as my sister and her graduating class marched their way in front of us to their seats.  The same decade that found my parents not speaking, found my sister completely out of our lives.  That was a huge day.  And, by huge I mean monumental.

My family is by no means perfect.  We have weathered a divorce and a custody battle that has resulted in years of emotional turmoil.  All in all, I am a strong believer that we are all better for that time.  My parents are now both happily remarried, and I have turned out to be surprisingly “normal” when all odds were against me.  Life is good.  That is, as long as my parents don’t talk and my sister stays far, far away.

I never thought I would see the day when all of that would change.  I would never have dreamed that my sister graduating from college would bring all of us together.  But, it did.  Saturday morning, all of the stars aligned and my family and I not only sat together to watch my sister receive her diploma, we also ate lunch together (as in…. at the same table… sharing the same basket of chips!).  What started out as nervous small talk eventually turned into laughter and reminiscing.  My parents spoke to each other, and actually carried on a conversation.  My step parents interacted.  My sister and her friends spoke to my dad as if he was one of them.  I sat in stunned silence, quietly sipping on my sweet tea.  Not sure whether to get really excited, or to brace for the moment when someone said something that offended someone else.  Lets just say that my lunch wasn’t hardly touched.

After lunch we piled back into the car and headed back home.  That made for ten hours of driving that day.  Ten hours for two hours.  Ten hours for the potential to mend some relationships.  Time will tell what, if any, doors were open this weekend.  In the mean time, I will choose to remain cautiously optimistic that this is the beginning of the end.  That was a big day….  Hopefully the first of many.

A picture is worth 1,000 words

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