stop, watch, and listen.

I haven't written in quite some time. I haven't written for various reasons but I really miss this space where I can lay everything out on the table. So I am back. {for today}

So much has happened since my last post. I saw His faithfulness. I relocated. I dived into the unknown trusting Him completely. And I have seen His hand like never before.

I was living with this fear that I was missing out. Missing out on adventure, missing out on what "normal" life should look like, missing out on what the world sees as successful. I came to a point where I learned that once I gave up all my wants and trust His timing...I was able to really understand that God's way was so much better.

I didn't need a husband to follow His leading.
I didn't need a job with a big paycheck. I didn't even need a big job title.
What I did need is to trust Him even when it was hard.
So I jumped. And I am so glad I did.

Recently, more than ever, I have seen some of His promises come to life. Isaiah 58 is my life scripture and it has come to life these past few months.

This past week I was able to go to NYC and see Jesus work like crazy. I was so blessed to be a little glimpse {and see a little glimpse} of Jesus in NYC.

I like to get things done correctly and efficiently----I can also be a little competitive and fast when getting things done. The Lord gave me the word "intentional" for 2017---and honestly, I had no idea all the ways He was going to teach me to be intentional. He has taught me to slow down. He has taught me to be patient. He has taught me to be okay with interruptions. The Lord has really shown me that sometimes it doesn't matter how quickly or even how perfect something is done---but more than those things is the heart of Jesus---and giving that to other people you encounter.

And He let me experience that this past week.
We were on a mission in a park in the middle of the city. I was simply supervising, not expecting such a God moment.

And then there she came. Her name was Miss Mary. She reminded me of my Prissy. She was confused and lost. As she started to talk, my heart literally felt like it was going to burst.

We got someone to go find where she needed to go. And while we waited, she shared her story. It was broken up into little pieces because she was so confused. But she was hurt, broken, and lost. She thought all hope was lost and she was beyond repair. She said Jesus couldn't help her after all these years---she said as a grandma that she shouldn't be in the position that she was in.

Y'all, the Truth breaks all those barriers and chains. As we began to speak His word above ours and shared HIS heart---she was able to receive little bits and pieces.

It may have been the most God ordained interruption thus far in this year. And I am so grateful.

Jesus was interrupted often. Remember Jesus visiting Zacchaeus' house, there was also the widow at Nain whose son needed healing, and the man who was let down through the ceiling to receive healing. Jesus was never annoyed. He was never aggravated that He was not getting the job done fast. He never thought about what He could be doing instead. Jesus looked at every situation with love and gave the people grace.

That's how I want my life to be. I want to allow the Lord to fill it with situations that need love and grace---and to be joyful facing them.

Keep pursuing Jesus and let Him interrupt things. It's so worth it.


I love that Ephesians 2:10 promises that He already has good things prepared for us to do...we just have to walk in them.
So stop, watch, and listen and you will see Him move. 

love on Valentine's Day.

walking into a sea of red and pink used to generate feelings of self-doubt & loneliness and I am quite sure I am not alone.

you see---I actually love this holiday. for a twenty-something that has been perpetually single for twenty-something years I fill social media with "I love love" and tell people all the time about how much I love this thing called L-O-V-E.

it's beautiful, y'all.
I am single and I will still shout it from the rooftops---love is good. it is beautiful.


but--our world has sorta kinda really made it an ugly thing for a lot of people.

love isn't teddy bears and roses. it isn't chocolate and a paid ticket to the movies. love isn't going to Olive Garden and waiting 2 hours for pasta that is only semi-okay and a dessert that you really didn't even want. love just isn't that.

love is waiting on God.

waiting on God to bring that person---yes. but not just sitting around.

no.

you can write letters to your future spouse but do not let that become the focus of your life.
God has a PURPOSE FOR YOUR LIFE. and until that person comes into your life fulfill that. do what God has called you to do.

whoever God has for you will desire for you to desire God more than them.
pray that for future spouse right now. that they will be focused on Christ right now and desire to do His will.

you will begin to see love differently.

love comes in many forms.
don't allow yourself to put love in a box this season.

love is a pastor praying for you when you are sick.
love is your friend buying you lunch.
love is a random text from a friend from college you haven't heard from in a while.
love is listening to music you don't like because your cousin likes it.
love is your Dad helping you clean.
love is a handwritten note.
love is an email from an African orphanage.
love is praying for someone that you may not know.
love is giving your last few dollars of cash to someone you met on the street.
love is a smile to a stranger.
love is encouraging someone.
love is knowing you are known by God.


I hope you feel loved. every single day.
xoxo,
Ivy 

a letter to you.

I feel like I should start out by saying sorry. I have ignored you at so many instances. I have passed you by like you were not there. But so many times  I have felt your presence, seen your handiwork, and even heard you whisper your sweet promises in my ear- even while I was ignoring you. You would gracefully offer your hand- wanting me to take it with confidence- but so many times I would turn my back on you and find myself trying to save myself.

I remember the day we met like it was yesterday, but it was so long ago. I was in second grade and it was the beginning of December. We had been out to recess- I remember the cold wind and playing on the monkey bars with my very best friends. It was Bible time after we came in and it was about the birth of your son. That day my teacher asked if anyone wanted Jesus to be their personal Savior. As my head was on my desk, my eyes squintily closed, and my heart beating fast- my hand went up. My feet were heavy as I walked towards the desk- but I was so excited. I had made a decision, one for myself, one that would literally change my entire life. I held my breath and you filled me with new life. You filled me with dreams and passions and visions that I was far too young to understand. But I remember you confidently telling me that you would be there all my life, that you would help me understand these things as I grew older and grew more into you. And you didn't lie. You never do.

Each year I grew in you. Each year you taught me more. Each year the dreams and passions became bigger and deeper.

I remember you standing with me as I watched Jamie have seizures. I was so young and didn't understand it all- but somehow you whispered to me that it was about glory. I really do remember you saying glory over and over one night as I layed in my bed waiting for her crying and seizures to stop. And now- I fully understand that phrase glory. It was and IS for your glory. To make you famous- to show others that you are good no matter what. But as I got older- I turned in defiance. I was mad that my sister could not walk or talk. I wanted her to be able to shop with me. I wanted my sister to talk about school with me. But YOU made her this way. Why is the question that was happening in my years as a teenager. It wasn't fair is what my heart screamed but you were right there beside me even then.

I remember you holding my head and wiping my tears as I felt like a failure. Kneeling beside my bed alone in my house- crying out to you. Wanting you to make yourself clear. And you did. You spoke tenderly to a heart that was confused. I had to tell my parents that I would not be a nurse. The dream I thought I had since I was little wasn't really a deep rooted dream in you, but instead one that seemed to make sense. I had learned that nursing was not what my heart desired. And as I kneeled down praying out to you, you reminded me that my heart desired you and only you. I remember you being my strength as I sat on our couch and with tear stained cheeks told my parents that I really had no idea what you wanted me to do but that it was not to be a nurse. They held me as you hold me. They assured me that they were proud and would stand beside me.

Years passed by so fast. And the next step was that application. The one that you told me to fill out. One that would wreck my life. Because I had noticed you changing my heart in Peru many years before in 2005. You had showed me things I never saw. You were opening my heart, opening my eyes, and screaming things to my heart but ever so tenderly. As I filled in every blank- I could feel your assurance. "Yes, Ivy, this is what I am telling you to do." And I did it. I finished it. Because over these years I had learned to trust you. You deserved my trust. I had seen you provide time after time. I had watched you help the pastor in Lima find Zaida in the slums with only a small photo of her. I had watched you wreck my life and rearrange things. And my favorite thing you did? You birthed a homeless ministry out of that 1997 Mitsubishi Galant. You showed me how to love people so well. And even though I am still learning- I want to take this opportunity to say thank you.

I got an email about some obscure place that I would be serving for six months. And that day I got the confirmation that I was denied entry, I felt you more than ever before. You literally held me. Sang me to sleep in your way only Daddys know how to do. It was such a hard day. I questioned if I had really heard from you. But you reminded me that I was not crazy.

And then you sent me to an even smaller, obscure place that I learned to love. And you did so many things there with me. You loved the people through me. You showed me how to serve when I was really sick. And you healed me from a fever that should have killed me. That is something I will never stop talking about.

For years I ignored your love letters. The ones you wrote to me hundreds of years ago knowing exactly what I would need to hear. But it was hard to see that you meant them for ME. I didn't really believe that those words on the pages of that book were to me personally. I acted as if I was not worth it. Not worth those words. Not worth your sacrifice. And to be honest- I am not. But through your grace, mercy, and redemption I have become one of your own.

I learned to turn to you when my friends have abandoned me. I have watched you provide things that seemed impossible. I watched you hold my heart as boys trampled over it. I have witnessed your grace as friends walked away after time overseas- because well, they cannot deal with the emotional difference. I have seen you confidently walk before me, preparing the way that I cannot see yet. You have been a friend that never left. You have been a Daddy who babies me when I need it but shows me where I mess up.

Thank you for helping me sail my ship, even when like a stubborn sailor I wanted to do it myself. I am so sure of your trustworthiness. And proud to call you a very dear friend of mine. More than that I am proud to call you Savior and will live every day of my life proclaiming that to the world. Wherever you may send me, I know you are there. Thank you.

orphans.

I had been in DJ for a few days. Had adjusted and my jet lag had finally subsided. I learned my schedule for teaching and realized I would have my mornings free. 

so with a little research online and directions for the "bus"- that term is used loosely because a small van full of sweating people and goats on top of people isn't what I picture when I hear bus. I went on my way. 

I put on a veil, threw a water bottle in my bag, and grabbed some baby wipes before I left my apartment. I walked around our building. And started through the market. One of my first times alone there. People grabbed my arms- wanting me to buy their stuff. But I was focused. A goal in sight. 

I got to the bus. Said hospital with a French accent and they sent me to a van a few feet ahead of me. I sat by a sweet lady and her baby. Making eyes with the baby- I prayed for English speakers to be there when I arrived. 

The bus stopped and the driver motioned for me to get off. I did and made my way to the little alley way. And I walked through a big iron gate. 

It was beautiful. And I immediately heard crying babies. I walked up the steps, hopped a gate, and was greeted with babies grabbing my legs. 

An orphanage run by nuns and filled with babies that parents literally threw away. I picked a baby girl up and found a place on the floor. And my eyes found him. 

His name was Abdurmon. He was swinging in an infant swing. Legs hanging down. A huge smile. And I immediately knew. He had cerebral palsy. I knew the signs- and I saw seizures come and go. His sweet mouth gaping open with flies surrounding it. And I cried as I lifted him up. His seven year old body being the weight of an infant. I fed him his bottle. Prayed over him before I left. And cried all the way home. 

I spent many hours in prayer over that boy. Many google searches over how to do things for him. And many dances showing the nuns what I meant- because my French was non existent. 

My heart aches not seeing him. Not knowing if he's okay. Not being able to bring him home.

And y'all, He's there. He's present. He sees, He cares, and He created him perfectly. As my anxious thoughts come over me about Abdurmon and the other babies I loved so much- I have to trust Him. 

They traced the lines of my face, played with my hair, and stared into my eyes as I fed them. They didn't have a mommy ever love them- but I did. And I'm confident if my future children are alive in orphanages - God is placing some girl who doesn't know anything but to rock, pray, and love them right in their path til I can get to them. 

Y'all, pray for the orphans. Consider adoption. Sponsor a child. He demands it and it's a perfect picture of grace.

Noah had an ark.

we all know the story about Noah.
God told him to build a boat, animals went on two by two, his family didn't drown, there was a rainbow.

the thing we forget is this- God told him that is was going to rain. from the sky.

that had never happened before. it was something new.

God also told him all of this- and didn't tell everyone else. so when Noah told them ----they all thought he had lost his ever loving mind. and rightly so.

we don't know how long it took Noah to build the ark. but I am just gonna go out on a limb and say it wasn't a day. and it probably wasn't a week. but he knew God's promises. and he had this covenant with God. he trusted Him. and obeyed.

before when reading this story- nothing really stood out. I have heard it since I was three years old. we see it in baby's nurseries. we see it on storybooks of near pagans. it's just the norm to us.

but recently--in this season of life---the Lord has really brought me back to this story often.

I know the promises He has made me. the specific ones and the not so specific ones. I know that they are coming but I am in the midst of building the "ark" so to speak.

and things get even weirder.

I enjoyed some sweet time with Jesus in Lakeland, FL a few weeks ago. I prayed SPECIFIC things. it is listed day after day in my journal. and it doesn't mean anything to anyone else BUT my God answered that prayer the next week. it was an encouragement to my faith and while I am still trying to figure some things out that go along with that answered prayer- He's faithful, y'all.

the next week I got a devastating email. the job I longed for. the job I really thought I had in the bag. the job that I was over qualified for and had more than enough experience for. the one I had found apartments close to the location. well, yeah THAT job. I didn't get it.

I was crushed. hurt. confused. at the same spot I was after that harsh no to Sudan. the no that literally changed my life and was the best no I have ever received.

and then I read in my journal- I saw His answered prayers right before my eyes. it was happening. and He had answered that specific prayer because He knew hurt was coming.

and so here I am. no job. at the beautiful age of 25. and it's hard, guys. harder than I ever imagined.

and Jesus has told me not to go looking fora job. to wait for Him to MAKE A DOOR.

do you know how hard that is? I cannot tell you how many times a day I want to search or (ahem) actually do search for job openings. but I trust Him.

and I feel crazy. and people think I am weird for not looking. and being this lame jobless girl just hanging out with kids in the park and serving my homeless/jobless friends.

but I am pretty sure Noah would get me. he was there. people called him crazy but he kept building.

so alas, I will build me an ark and pray the rainbow comes a whole lot faster than expected.

His word is true. and He is trustworthy. for that I am thankful.

cannot wait to tell all of you when the promises and prayers are answered and come to fruition. stay tuned.

it's coming soon, guys. 

dear Jamie.

Dear Jamie,

Five minutes ago it officially turned into your birthday. You are 22 years old. And I cannot believe it.

I was three when you were born. I don't remember a lot about it. But there is an entire home video dedicated to that day. From the waiting room full of people, to me wearing my big sister shirt proudly, and it ends with me explaining that indeed they were my mommy and daddy but yours too.

I know I was excited. I had prayed many nights as a toddler before going to bed that Jesus would give me a baby sister. And you, my sweet sissy, were the answer to not only my prayer but to mama and daddy's prayer too.

You were perfect. Born early and small- but perfect. You looked like a little baby doll and I treated you just like that. I am holding you or kissing you or talking to you in every picture and video that we have. I was in love with you- and that has not changed one bit.

Months passed and then the news came. You were not just a spoiled baby who cried like doctors said but instead you had  disorder- one that we would learn much about in the coming years. Cerebral Palsy.

Even to this day- I get a little choked up when I say it. Because- it does not define you. Doctors wanted to put your abilities in a box. To tell us what you could and could not do. And as a small child myself- it was heart breaking. I wanted my sister to play barbies with me. I wanted you to run around with me. I wanted you to be able to tell me about your day at school. And you couldn't. I didn't understand completely. But I can assure you this. On that day in December of second grade- when Jesus took a hold of my life and the Holy Spirit inhabited my body- I was able to understand. The Holy Spirit was able to give me peace and understanding and a boldness even as a child when praying.

I prayed with urgency. Every single Bible class- I talked about you. I asked my friends to pray for you. My teachers to pray for you. And the days when I would walk into the halls of SCA with teary eyes because you had seizures all night the night before- my teachers touched Heaven for you, sissy. You have always been covered. And through those prayers and our gracious Heavenly Daddy- we have seen miracle after miracle.

You are so smart. You are so good at sorting colors and shapes. And you love to "doctor" us. You love to color. And I love it when you use that sweet right hand when trying to play. You push the boundaries- and I adore that.

You walk so good with our help and your braces. And you never really fuss about it. I am so proud of you. I cannot imagine the kind of heartache you have some days and you cannot express it. You have taken TONS of medicines your whole life like a pro. Endure endless physical therapies. And rely on us to do a lot of stuff for you. I am thankful the Lord is your comforter and gives you understanding.

You were so brave when I was in Africa. Cried only a few times and I think enjoyed being the boss around here.

Jamie, I am so thankful for the way you love others. Even though you get aggrivated with us and sometimes- yell- that's normal. I do that. But most importantly- you talk to everyone. And smile. And sometimes even say a little "AWW" so you can kiss their hand or hug them. That is like Jesus. People think you don't get it but you do. And you understand a lot more than we even realize.

Sometimes when I am praying out loud for you and reading verses to you- you just laugh- like the Holy Spirit is just telling you something. And I have no doubt that he is. because he loves you that much, Jamie.

We won't know just how many lives the Lord has changed through you until we get to heaven. But MAN, I cannot even comprehend how the Lord has used you. Because having you as MY sister changed my life. I cannot imagine it any other way. You may not talk. or walk. but you are mine. And Jesus used you to mold my heart. to mold my faith. to teach me of trust.

He used you to make my heart for those who cannot help themselves. He used you to teach me how to care for Abdurmon at the orphanage in DJ. He used you to give me patience. He used you to teach me to be joyful in every situation. He used you to teach me how to be a lover of people years ago. He knew what He was doing when He let you be mine.

He does miracles daily. and you are one of them. I cannot wait for the day you walk, sissy. We are getting you some goodlooking shoes.

You are my number one. You are it. I love the most in the whole world. And the man I marry- he will too- or I won't marry him. And my future kids will adore their Aunt J.

Keep being the best sister in the world. And I cannot wait to see how Jesus continues to heal you this year. Maybe you will even walk across the stage at church like we have had dreams about? Either way- your testimony is one that Jesus is using all over the world- and that excites me!

I don't know about everyone else, but YOU are feeling 22!

Love,
Sissy

a year.

it's been a year.

a year since I hopped on the plane in Ethiopia heading back to the place that I once called home.

a year since I talked to a Muslim leader in an airport that day and had him ask me to pray for him.

a year since I did nothing but cry all the way home. 16 hours of tears. my nerves were crazy. I had butterflies thinking about seeing my friends and family. it was the weirdest feeling ever.

a year since I realized that God removed my love of things greatly as I had lost a piece of luggage and did not care one bit.

a year since I had what my cousin calls a love black out. that moment I walked through the doors in the new terminal in Atlanta. I saw my parents and Jamie standing there. and  my precious friend Susan. I could do nothing but push my luggage as fast as I could. and everything faded. my heart was at home. those hugs- I had missed for six long months.

a year since things hit home like really. as I climbed into my bed after 2 whole days of travel- everything sunk in. the Lord protected me from the thoughts while I was in Africa. but I was reminded of His faithfulness. I didn't die- like He protected me over and over and over again. the disease of dengue fever did not hold a chance against Him. and the people who threw rocks- they did not know I was a daughter of the greatest King in the world. not once was I harmed to death. harmed? yes. dead? no. and that feeling of laying in my bed. praying and thanking Him in the same spot where I had prayed and asked Him to protect me six months earlier was one moment that I will not forget. a sweet moment with my Heavenly Daddy.

I cannot lie and say this has been an easy year. actually it has been one of the hardest. one of pain. and heartache. one that makes no sense. and one of waiting.

{we all know waiting is the hardest.}

it has been a year of tears. and joy. but a year of His promises.

He has promised me much. and much He has given. and I am expecting so much more.

as I look back on a year of flashbacks to the hard stuff. talking with pastors. speaking at churches. hearing stories of how God used a little Southern girl who was not anything special to touch people. understanding how your heart can hurt yet be at peace at the same time. He has taught me so much. He has loved me so well. and He continues to remind me that He has me in the very palm of His hand.

I miss Africa DEEPLY. everyday is a struggle not to hop on a plane.
and everyday I give Satan a black eye when he tells me that it has been a year wasted.

because I haven't found a job. doors have been slammed in my face. doors that I was well qualified for. and I cannot say it isn't hard- because it is exhausting. but we know, and I have to remind Satan that He wins. He already won. and that He has this amazing, God ordained job for me. and its coming. I just feel it.

so as I miss that place I call home. as I wait for Him to move. as I pray for the people He wrecked my heart for. I am reminded- He is a good Daddy. He is comforter. and peace. and goodness.

and I am just plain excited to see what is next.

God will open new doors. Revelation 3:8.

dear 15 year old Ivy.

Dear 15-year-old me,

I wish I could remind you how awesome Jesus thinks you are. I wish I could walk beside you and cheer you.  I would help you learn how to be brave, bold, and courageous. Be yourself. Speak your mind. Don't be so quiet. 

Don't worry about what other people think. I promise- they will always love you. And you will keep in touch with some of them, some of them you won't. So don't worry so much. You are different. And you feel that so deeply. God has called you for a very specific reason- don't run from it. Let Him mold you in these years. Be open to what He is telling you. 

You are about to see God working in your heart and life like never before. How I wish I could show you where you will be ten years from now. You will pray and beg and pray and beg about going to Peru next year. Stay calm- mama and daddy say yes after you show them Psalm 91 every night. You will fall in love with the country and the people. And don't worry- the pastor finally finds Zaida and her home after six long months- and you will sponsor her. Actually, you will be going to see her graduate high school!!!! Don't think so much and try to figure out what God is doing. He is for you and He will show you your next step. Love people hard. 

In a few years you are going to start a homeless ministry out of your car. The parents will be worried- but keep trusting you have heard from Him. And after witnessing to college professors for years- you will start to understand why He had you there. The Lord is going to send you somewhere hard and crazy after college. Don't get disappointed when you get the NO for Sudan but instead see that He is at work. Trust Him, trust Him completely. You will be called to unreached people. Be ready for that. It will be hard. And the waiting once you get back home is even harder. You will face persecution. You will be scared. But remember- fear not. FEAR NOT.

I know you want to be a neo-natal nurse. I know you want to help people. But its not about money or status. You will soon learn that. You will learn to give up the dream of the rich husband, four white kids, and white picket fence. You are going to learn His heart and He will put His desires inside of you. Be ready for that. And just so you know, when you change your major in college- mama and daddy are not disappointed. Don't fret, God has something up His sleeve. 

And boys...just don't worry about them. Some boys will be jerks. Some boys will be sweet. But keep your mind and heart guarded. Be romanced by your Heavenly Father. Let Him protect your heart and keep it for the right boy. In ten years, He still might be holding onto it---and believe it or not---you are not dead. It's not the end of the world that everyone you know is married with kids. Because you will learn His timing is perfect. 

And Jamie? Keeping covering her in prayer. I know you adore her. And she will always be your baby. Even when she is 21. She is going to have brain surgery- and she will make it out like a miracle. They won't shave her head so don't cry over that. She will look bad for a few weeks- she won't respond to you- she will have black swollen eyes. But do NOT let Satan tell you that His promises have failed. She will soon be a miracle. She will start walking with her braces and our help. She will learn to say so many things. And she will be the light for so many people. You will continue to pray for her complete healing for years and He will still continue to work. His timing, His timing. 

And that cool cell phone you think you have? Just wait- your phone will talk to you in ten years. It is crazy. 

And as far as mama and daddy. Let them embarrass you. Let them hold you. Let mama sing in Target. Tell daddy he is number one in your book. Remind them how thankful you are. And don't forget how things are. Take in the sounds and smells. How it feels to be doing your homework on the kitchen table as daddy walks in from work. Cherish the moments. 

Walk to Prissy and Papa's house more. They grow old fast- and health decreases. Take every moment you can with them. Love them. Tell them you love them. Every single day. 

Get over yourself. You will grow to be loud and outgoing. Don't be so shy- God will teach you how to be bold. 

Love hard. Live loud. And put Jesus before everything. 

Oh, and in chapel at school? when you don't want to sing out loud- just do it. Jesus loves hearing your worship.

See ya in ten years. 

the year with no chocolate bunnies.

it's been a tender week for me. actually a tender Easter season.

this weekend is the pinnacle of my faith. if Jesus hadn't died- I wouldn't have the grace and forgiveness and eternal life that his death so graciously gave us. and if He hadn't rose again- it would appear that Satan won.

but He didn't. Jesus won.

our. Jesus. won.

sometimes I still can't get over that.

He won for us. because He loved us so much. He was willing to hurt....hurt a lot. to bleed. to have people yell horrible things at Him. to have people mock Him. to have his clothes stripped away and to have thorns thrashed into His head.

because He loved us.

and my thoughts this year go to my friends.

my friends who live in East Africa.
my friends that believe that Jesus lived but do not believe that He died.
my friends that do not believe in the resurrection...because well, why believe that when He didn't die on the cross in the first place.
my friends who believe He was a great man and that He will come to reign on the earth.


but my friends are lost.
and without the things that happened on Easter we all would be.

and I also think about all the dark things that this year has brought for mankind.

human trafficking. churches being burned down. pastors kidnapped. miss**naries killed. cancer. death. post election arguments. discontentment. sickness. fevers. drought. famine. hunger. orphans. widows. suicides. abortion. families divided.

and my own discontentment, pride, selfishness, and sometimes harsh words said before thinking.

we are a dark people. and that's why Good Friday had to be dark. so that the light could come.

the dark things show that we CANNOT do it alone. it strips away any self-dependance we could ever have. it takes away that idea that "we got this." because we don't. we don't have this.

my emotions have been bubbling over as I realize that Easter isn't some chocolate bunny, sweet holiday.
no. Easter is a scandalous, earth shattering, bold season. and I have felt my need for Jesus this year during this time more than ever. 

every tradition of this holiday has brought a subtle weight this year.
seeing eggs. seeing bunnies. candy. peeps. grass. baskets.
it has all brought a weight.

these burning images of my friends across the world. burning images of people worshiping a god who doesn't exist. burning images of the babies in the orphanage who if WE do not go...will never know the love of a Savior. {this one aches the most}

and once again HE reminds me of the question the Holy Spirit sparked so many times in DJ.

"Am I worth it?"

He is worth it all. worth no water. worth sitting on dirt floors. worth sweating for days on end. worth crying at the sheer loneliness. worth stones. worth threats. worth life itself.

HE IS!

His resurrection gave victory over death.
......it gave hope.
.....turned mourning into dancing.
.....gave boldness instead of shame.
.....gave courage instead of fear.
.....certainty over the doubt.
.....it gave us solid ground. 


so this year instead of eating peeps. and eggs. and focusing on the Bunny.

may we honor Him with our lives. not only on the Sunday that changed the world but everyday....so that through us....He can reclaim His fame in all of the world. amen.


I urge you to pray for those worshiping tomorrow in closed places. and for His light to shine among the unreached.
it is one of the hardest days.
{I can remember awaking before the sun so that it was safe in the middle of the desert. and it was worth it.}


may He be glorified.

with your blood you purchased for God

    persons from every tribe and language and people and nation. Revelation 5:9.

living by faith. not by feeling.

it was cold on the plane. my pillow was wet with tears. and i am confident that i scared the Indian guy to death who was a newbie coming to America. 

my heart was racing. and i was nervous as all get out. 

but why. i didn't get it. 

i was about to set my eyes on my family. on my friends. that i had not seen for six long months. 

i had looked death in the face and kicked Satan all over the place. i wanted to see them. really, i did. 

but i was scared to. 

because you see as soon as my little feet set on that airport floor. it began. 

a new season. 

a new season that i wasn't sure how to deal with. one that the Lord had given me promises about. one that had been prayed over. one that was PREPARED before i was even created. 

let that sink in for a second. 

He knew that i would be freaking out. He knew that i would be scared of what was up ahead. and nervous about being back at home. 

He knew. He understood. and that's why He filled my heart and journal with endless promises of what He would provide. of what He would show me. and of what He would do miraculously. 

.........................................................................................................................................................

fast forward some months. 

months full of  nightmares. reunions. pictures. emails. flashbacks. tears. laughter. and pure joy. 

here i am in this new season. 

an awkward season but a new season alas. 

i try to figure it out most days, but then i remember He has me in the palm of my hand. and to LET GO of these white knuckles of mine. 

i am leaning on my Savior fully. trusting His every word. and listening very closely. 

so on days like today where Satan tries to make me question the who what when where and why. 

i basically punch him in the face and tell him to get lost. 

but really, I do. 

because my Daddy knows me better than anyone else. He knows my love language. He knows my fears. and He knows my dreams. 

He speaks to me in the ways I need and calms my fears when they arise. 

He is the beginning. He is the end. and He is the in between. 

He doesn't go anywhere. He won't leave me. and He surely will not forsake me. 

He forgives me when I doubt His faithfulness. and takes every opportunity to show just how powerful He is. 

..................................................................................................................................................................

y'all, our Heavenly Daddy is the best. He is unbelievable. 

so as you wait for Him to move. as you wait for Him to tell you the next step. as you wait for the GO {I am there.}. 

praise Him. live by faith, not by feeling. 

because we all know our feelings are all jacked up sometimes. 

when your head tells you He can't, commend your spirit that yes, He can and He will. 

Lord, I trust what you are doing. I will follow You. 

make straight Your way before us! Psalm 5:8 .

welcome.

welcome back, y'all.

love. boys. and other mysteries.

I was probably in sixth grade. sitting in the gym  at the school I attended from kindergarten until the beautiful day that I graduated.

it was "promise week." it was all pretty much just talk to me at this point. wait for your future husband. don't give your heart away. don't let people play around with your heart.

I listened. I didn't talk during the talks. I prayed after it all. and God spoke to my little 12 year old heart.
to "be still. wait. and work to bring Him glory in the meantime."

so the meantime looked like middle school. and high school. and college.

because He didn't break up that meantime.

there were tears. and confusion. and pure aggravation at it all.

there were prayers. prayers of hope. prayers of anger. prayers of desperate asking.

and then there were times where I thought God was shaking it up. but THANKFULLY I was wrong.

I messed up a lot. and wished a lot of silly stuff.and prayed some pretty insane prayers.

and I wouldn't have survived without our Heavenly Daddy. 

so I still pray Isaiah 58 over my future husband. and pray he is ready for the adventure that will happen soon. 

but I also desperately seek my Heavenly Daddy on behalf of the two precious girls I mentor.

boys. boys. boys. boys.

it's what teenage girls talk about. it's what they think about. it's what they care about.

I listen. and add in my two cents about the perfection of Justin Bieber's hair. and discuss Taylor Swift's latest break up.

BUT I hope that they get it.

that they see that satisfaction comes from the pursuit of the King.
that they feel Him romancing their hearts.
that they protect their hearts with every ounce of their being.
and don't take a 15 year old boy's flowery words and turn it into something it's not.

God wrote my story in a way that I would have NEVER ever in a million years dreamed.
ever. never. ever. thought.

but it's perfect in every way. every adversity. every victory. every lesson. every tear. every adventure. for His glory. and His alone.

you see...when I was 13...I was under the impression by this time in life...I would be a RICH nurse, married to a super good-looking rich doctor, raising some cool white kids, with a white picket fence.

but alas, I can only laugh. and realize the great satisfaction that comes with knowing that His stories are best. He knows my heart. He sees where I will be. He knows what I need. and has already planned all of it out. how cool is THAT?!

so I pray that my girls are not disappointed. but WAIT. wait for Him to move. wait for Him to speak. and wait for Him to send that boy.

may they realize He is the best romancer around.

because quite frankly, I will hurt any boy who hurts them.


daughters, do not awaken love until the time is right. 
song of solomon 8:4. 

on orphans. and new years.

it was a normal day. 

flaming hot. my veil sticking to my face and neck. and sitting in a Somali's ladies lap on the "bus."

my morning was spent on the dirt covered ground of the orphanage. holding the babies who called me mama and traced the lines of my face. 

on the way there I had been called "infadel" and prayed Psalm 91 all the way. 

earlier that week I had been shoved pretty intensely against a wall. a few scabs and bruises were showing on my leg as I fed Abdourman on the ground. 

all of this added up for a moment that no one else but our Heavenly Daddy could orchestrate. 

praying over lifeless bodies. singing "Jesus loves me" in a language only I knew. and with sweat dripping from my brow. 

He made things clear. 

He was all I needed. everything I needed He encompassed. and He provided. 

protection..I had it. 

comfort...I continually experienced it. 

power...I saw it everyday. 

so as I enter into a new season. a season of unknowns. a season of waiting. and quite frankly an awkward season of life. 

I won't forget it. 

I won't forget what He taught me. 

I won't forget the babies. 

I won't forget the bruises and scabs. 

I can't. 

as I wait for the next go, I remember. 

.....................................................................................................................................................................................

2012 was filled with waiting. and visas. and flights. 

with hard goodbyes. and support like I have never known. 

it was full of life. and death. and stings. 

it was a year that encompassed Isaiah 58 in every way. 

it was crying babies. and begging street kids. 

it was students. and beggars. 

it was soccer balls and Bibles. 

it was persecution. 

and healing. 

it was forgiveness and mercy. 

lightness and darkness. 

power seen in the powerless nights. 

it was waterless days. and fighting for my life. 

it was an African hospital and claiming I would live. 

it was hurting goodbyes. and exciting hellos. 

it was the start. not the end. 

it was home. in more than one place. 

it was the greatest year of faithfulness I have ever known.

.....................................................................................................................................................................................

Heavenly Daddy, I am here for Your earthly glory. do Your thing. 

2013, bring it. 

on a Wednesday in a cafe.

I have been a little over 3 months.

3 months of sharing stories. tears. meeting new friends. realizing you lose friends. starting GSOM classes. interning at Mission Change. getting used to water on a daily basis. remembering. praying. and waiting.

before I left the field, I talked extensively about what would happen when I got home. how I would feel. what things would change. but things happen differently than expected. and it certainly did for me.

mine looked like sleepless nights. a hurting heart. and swollen eyes. dreams of the kids. prayers that *told Him what to do.* and trying to figure out exactly what He was going to do.

my heart is healed. my sleep is back. and I am at peace.
and He did that. all of it.

BUT...it was not untl last week. sitting at a table. with my best friends. outside. at a coffee shop. that He blew. my. mind.

I couldn't tell you what we were talking about. I remember nothing about our conversations. because from one simple text message. He spoke to my heart. and I got it.

the text message read: "I know He will put me where He wants me."

I read it over and over and over again. He will put me where He wants me.

And He took me back to a women's retreat. with my mentor. the semester before I graduated college. I had no idea where He was sending me or what I was going to do. but I did know He was going to give me some clear answers that weekend and He did.

a sweet, sweet lady prayed over me. and He spoke so clearly. He revealed so much. But the one thing that He has reminded me of DAILY is that "the first place you go will not be your last nor your home."

now.

I had forgotten about this. completely forgotten. until that night. with my best friends. when God used a text message and brought this to my remembrance.

East Africa. my heart is there.
but my God is there. and that is enough.

He will put me where He wants me. and that is going to look a lot different than I have probably planned on.

life might look like where's waldo. life might look like Him sending me to another continent.
but this I know. He has it.

so this season is a season of giving Him my heart .all of it. giving Him Africa. letting Him deal with that.

because as CHEESY as this sounds...He has some pretty incredible things in store for my future family. my future husband HAS to be praying the same way. that God would take control and send him wherever. and I find great peace in that.

may Him reveal Himself deeply. and completely.

so as I lay down my wanting for Africa may He be glorified and exalted. Amen.

thanksgiving after afreeka.

i am thankful for the day in 2005. in high school. sitting on a soccer field in Peru. when i gave up my dreams of a rich husband. white picket fence. and all white kids. the moment where i realized holding babies and loving on people for His namesake is way more important than any career i could ever imagine.

i am thankful for dirt covered floors in the orphanage. babies surrounding me. feeding them for hours nonstop. where i realized that being His meant everything. 

i am thankful for the babies. the babies who traced the lines of my face. and cried when i left. the ones who tugged on my skirt. 

i am thankful for Abdourman. my man with cerebral palsy. who was covered in flies but filled with a love like i have never known. the little man who i sang "J loves you" daily to. the one who haunts my dreams and takes up pages in my journal. 

i am thankful for Aboker who stole my heart. and called me mommy in Somali. the precious toddler who fought for my lap and learned Jes*s and love in english. 

i am thankful for the knocks at my door. and the kids who graced my apartment and steps. begging for water. bread. milk. the kids who lived on the street but found a home at our place. 

i am thankful for the power outages and water being out for WEEKS. because i saw His power. and that's enough. 

i am thankful for the hospital bed. and thumbs up pictures for my parents when i had dengue fever. 

i am thankful for the market and my friends who work there. 

i am thankful for my brilliant students who have a killer Southern accent. 

i am thankful He healed Azma of her fever. i am thankful for the shoes He bought for kids. and the soccer balls He provided that showed them that their prayers were answered when they asked our Heavenly Daddy. 

i am thankful for the orphanage in E. and the summer away from the heat in jabooty. 

i am thankful for soccer. bikes. and goats to chase. 

i am thankful for uno. and the kids who played it with me. 

i am thankful for enjera. yes. 

i am thankful that He chooses to use me. He doesn't need me but i am forever thankful He lets me have a piece in the grand story He is writing. 

i am thankful that He is writing a cool story RIGHT now. and even when i do not know what that will look like...He gives me peace. 

the light shines for the next step. amen. 

declare His blessings among all nations. Psalm 96:3.

in America.

hey, I'm in America and it STILL feels weird.

the months have flown by. months of crying. months of joy. months full of remembering. months of reconnections. months of retelling stories. and rekindling the fire that I have for a God who sends me.

my nights are filled with dreams. dreams of what happened. dreams of the babies on the street. dreams of our AWESOME God. but my days are filled with opportunities. opportunities to serve His people...HERE.

the more I get back into my groove, the more I realize..is it even possible to have my heart literally all over the world?

to love a people so much THERE. to love a people so much in Peru. and to continuously be reminded that I am in MY city to love these people for a season. however long that season just might be.

there is guilt. much guilt. but that will go away in time.

I get to have showers everyday. I get to eat more than rice and beans. and I never have to worry about my government turning off my power because I am of a different religion.

I don't get thrown against walls. I don't get stones thrown at me. And I surely do not get followed by angry mobs.

I get to go to stores. walk without fear. sit in a comfortable house. and drive a car.

{this things evoke guilt. but He is working}

little things spark my memory and take me back. and in some moments I can almost feel the dirty, grimy hands pulling on mine. when I eat and drink {water}...I remember.

I remember those days. so many of those days. filled with buying bread...water...and hunting down the street kids who would hide from the police.

I remember the blind beggar who had never felt someone's touch and who jumped as I poured water into her mouth.

He was faithful every time. to let His mercy and love pour out. to let them see His face and not Ivy. every. single. time.

I remember when I hear stories about sickness.

I remember walking home from school. seeing Azma. high fever and barely moving. several weeks after I saw God restore her body. and mama-mode went into overdrive as I lifted her up. carried her up my stairs and into my apartment {as dumb as that may have been for a M (her mother) to be there. her body was limp. not a move. I got water. bathed her. prayed earnestly over her tired, helpless body. and a few hours later...our God delivered a healing.

I remember the babies. my babies. sitting on the orphanage floor. waiting. waiting on their mama and daddys. and one day...they will come. I have to believe that.

I remember the days of no water. and no electricty. no power in sight. but sweet friends, those are the moments He showed off. His power was seen like no other. in the darkness. without the basic necessities. He was there. He was good.

as I help the homeless here. as I love on kids here. my God will not let me forget. His people. His children. and for that I am glad.

because one day...I will be back. full of a new fire. and new wisdom that only He can give.

I am thankful today that He has called us to all people. every nation. every tribe. every tongue.

our prayers should look like..."to whom shall I go...today?'

not on your one or two week mission trip. not when you have a free Saturday. not on Sunday.

but today. go. be His hands. be His feet. He is good..and His glory will be known.

He's not kidding around when He says "go."

believe that. and just do it.
 

never once.

it was a rainy morning. pretty perfect for the mood of the compound as I had my bags packed and outside my door.

the kids were quiet. not the typical morning we were used to. they didn't talk at breakfast. and they certainly made no jokes.

the sound of the dirt made an extra crunch as I walked to the shop one last time.

one last time to hear "ivy, ivy. ivy" screamed from all the neighborhood children.
one last time to hold Shima's hand. interlocked. white and black. exactly how He envisioned.
one last time to hear I love you's.
one last time to memorize every line of their face.

one last time happened a few hours ago. and I am most confident that I will never be the same.

airports give time to think. flying alone gives moments alone. just by yourself. alone. praying. crying. crying. crying.

it was a hard morning. but it's not so much the "lasts" that get me. it's that this whole journey is over.

when I left djibouti...another country was stealing my heart. but now I am mourning my leaving DJ too. my heart is for those people. for my kids. for the babies.

I am not so naive as to think Satan will not take my weak heart and try to tell me lies. I am confident this week will be the toughest back home.

he has started. "you didn't do anything worthwhile." "why go back?" "no one was even saved."

but he seems to ALWAYS froget that my God already won. and always wins the war.

He has my heart. and though it may be shaken, it will not fail.

so as I sit in this airport alone waiting for Amsterdam. I will praise Him. confident He is at work. confident that He is holding my heart. and confident His very hand is the one drying my tears.

there have been scars (I have MANY physical scars). there have been struggles. there have been battles. and bad dreams. there have been children that have died. there have been people who rejected Him. but.

never once.

He never left. He never will.

never once.
have I realized His love more than I did in Africa.

haye aan ammaanno!

{let us praise Him!} (somali)

never once. not one time.

i could get arrested for this.

it was warm outside. a dry, hot night that caused me to spend my evening sitting outside my room. taking in Africa for the last week. soaking in the sights and smells.

the boys had just used my soap {the one that smells like sunflowers} and the showers were filling the compound with a sweet aroma. they were wet and tired after a LONG night of soccer.

i have come to learn when teenage boys get tired, they get mad. and when they get mad they act stupidly.

a rock thrown on the hard ground startled me and caused me to look up. and there it was.

the boys. the boys without parents of their own. the boys who call each other brothers. the boys who are desperate for love and affection.

the boys were on the ground. fist to fist. face to face. tirelessly shoving one another. hitting one another. kicking one another.

quickly the adults ran to seperate them while i was alone. in my thoughts. and severely praying for peace among them.

tears flowing. hot tears kept flowing and i couldn't make them stop.

they were screaming things in amharic. hurtful things. about how they were both unwanted. that their parents threw them away. that even the food they eat was not theirs.

these boys fought. why? because hurt people hurt other people.

and then. it hits me.

why am i sitting here in tough, hard, exhausting spiritual warfare for one more week?
why am i missing home like crazy and killing mosquitoes every minute of every day?

love. the reason is love.

i love these boys DEEPLY. God loves them even more. and He wants them to know that.
to feel His presence. to feel secure in His love. to know that He is their defender when no one else is there to defend them.

so desperately, i wait.

i wait on the day to leave. i anxiously await seeing my sister's face. but more importantly i cover this country in sweet prayers, desperately wanting THESE kids to be the change. to be the ones to bring Him fame here.


love. love is always the reason.

And let us consider this: may we spur one another towards acts of LOVE. Hebrews 10:24.

leaving on a jet plane.

i took it all in today. holding back tears. and drinking in the sounds of the sweet ville.

the orphanage was hard.

kissing my Abdourman...knowing it could be more than a year before i check on him again....was almost more than my heart could handle. i cried. and i cried hard. the hard, warm tears that overflow when you aren't expecting them. coming just around the time the line "red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight..."

oh, that he would realize how special he is in the sight of the King. for him to understand that i would take him home to be mine in a second. that he would know he is special. his disability does not mean he is worthless but rather gives our Daddy the opportunity to show off a little bit more.

but all of the sentimental came to a screeching hault when....the typical day in the life happened....the newest addition threw up all over me. almost spoiled milk on a dress...in the 120 degree heat. let's all take a moment and realize how disgusting THAT is.

i wouldn't have wanted my last day there any other way.

my bags are packed....okay, almost. and they are overweight. i know, so typical. i earn the worst packer award. you think i would be good at it by now.

and my ticket is ready for tomorrow.

a new adventure. a new stamp in my passport. and new kids to love. new people to meet. new everything.

while all of that excites me, it is still hard to leave. with not a lot of pictures being permitted here...i am trying to ingrain their faces in my memory. every line. every scar. every little piece of hair out of place.

so tonight i took a walk. bought the kids some stuff. and said goodbye to my students.

the hope we have is that every child i loved. every student i poured into. He was there. He is here. and He continues to work even when i am gone.

Ethiopia, i'm coming for ya!

no blogs until i arrive back home to the states. it's illegal there.

see ya on the flip side :)

on leaving. and loving. and hospitals.

walking by the used clothes market I smelled it. the smell of sweat. old tshirts. dirt. and sheer desperation.

it took me back to about 2 weeks ago. that same smell was in a small hospital room only lit up by a window right beside my bed. i was queasy. i was burning up. i was sicker than i realized.

it was in that room. in that moment. smelling all the smells of this place within a hospital full of dying people. it hit me and it hit me hard as the doctor freaked out over my fever that had gone WAY down over the course of the night before i arrive. He saved me.

not the fairy tale kinda saving, knight on a white horse, riding off into the sunset. but the kind of saving i needed. our Heavenly Daddy touched me. in the hot room of my house. alone. with a tear stained pillow. and pain like i have never known.

He.saved.me.

i am not naive. {well, i am...but not for this} that night my fever was so high. with no medicine. that my body could have went into shock. i could have had a really bad story but i don't.

i have a story of grace. and mercy. and pure miracle-working power.

most people don't go into a hospital in east africa and come out well. they leave dead. or close to death. but my story is different because He lives. so i can too.

so as i look at the calendar and see the days winding down here. i am certain that my being here was no mistake.

i was not forbidden to enter somewhere else because of chance. i was not randomly chosen for this work. but instead it was divine intervention. one that should forever be remembered and praised.

He makes these incredible stories out of the literal dust. and that is all i saw when i arrived.

a house in the worst neighborhood. no water. people screaming and throwing rocks at me. dirt. sewage. sweat. dirt. rocks. dirt. sweat. and for a minute...i wanted home. but i did not realize that He was preparing this place to be my home.

it happened so quickly. and so discreetly. that i cannot tell you the exact moment or day {seeing as i have LACKED on journaling..} but it happened. and one day...it was just HOME. where my heart was. where my people were. where i wanted to be.

i saw a place full of joy even though every place i looked i saw sorrow.
i saw a place full of peace even though chaos existed everywhere.
i saw a place full of hope although desperation was sitting on every corner on a cardboard box.

i knew this place was ready. it is ready. for seeds to be buried. for watering to happen. for love to take ACTION.

you see....this place is a dot on the map. no one cares about it. THE largest organizations for this business do not even have people here.

but He cares. He loves them. He. is. here. and He will be here...even after i hop that plane Tuesday.

am i sad to leave? you betcha.
am i scared to leave? yes.
do i know that His stories turn out the best? of course.

so i will leave.

the babies i adore. and the kids who call me hojo.

i will leave the neighborhood that kisses my hands and brings their naked babies for me to bless.

i will leave my students knowing that they are on the brink of learning EXCELLENT english...with a Southern accent.

i will leave the dirt. and the sewage. and the hottest weather on earth.

i will leave the veils.

i will leave my broken bed...knowing it is a representation of the very thing He did here. took those white knuckles of mine and broke them free.

i will move on to another place in need of love. and give a love that cannot be contained.


i.will.never.be.the.same.