Saturday, May 29, 2010

journals


That’s a stack of journals. My journals. My well-loved and completely full (except one- the one under my little bible on top) journals.


And most of the following is straight out of one of those pages...


I don’t want [my blog] to replace the journaled prayers where I connect and process this journey that I’m on with God. I still firmly believe that there is something so artistic, so beautiful when you put a pen on a piece of paper and let your heart flow. The stack of journals that sits on my bookshelf is sort of mysterious- no one knows what is written on those pages except for me. The pages hold so many prayers, letters that I never wanted the recipient to read, old sermon notes, lists of bills I need to pay, things I want to accomplish.


I sometimes wonder if anyone is tempted to pick one up and read it? What would they find? The pages in my journals are probably the most accurate portrayal of my heart. I’m usually an open book and most of the people around me know my heart...but there are still secrets that only the pen and the page know.


A blog is a really cool thing- I get to share my heart with whomever wants to read it, but it’ll never replace my journal. Technology is so distant and clean and cold and far away. Journals are tangible and messy and intimate. My journals will yellow and maybe get lost, but someday, someone will find them. Long after I’m gone, my heart will still be here in those pages....and I hope someone is tempted to read them.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

saying goodbye


Two weeks ago, when I gave my notice to Advent, I could figure why I wasn’t emotional. I knew I loved my job, my girls, and especially my team...but it was so exciting to announce my new opportunity.


It finally hit me today. On my way to work, I began thinking about how to say goodbye. I started to rehearse the words I’d say to my team and my girls as I walk away from the Summit home and my life as an employee at Advent....and the tears wouldn’t stop falling. As I sat in a living room that holds so many memories this morning and “checked-in” (a phrase I never used before Advent), the only feeling I could identify was thoughtful and I was comfortable enough with those people to cry and pray and finally grieve as I begin this process of letting go.


To be honest, I don’t know how to let go. I don’t know how I’m going to say goodbye to a place where I’ve been a part of casting a vision and watched it become reality, where I’ve scrubbed floors and painted walls, where I’ve taken care of sick girls who missed their mom, where I’ve cried thousands of tears, where I’ve watched teenage girls grow and change, where I’ve prayed many bedtime prayers, where I’ve laughed uncontrollably, where I’ve lost many games of pool,where I’ve seen God perform miracles, a place where I’ve walked through sunshine, fire, and rain and have made it to the other side a changed person.


But I am going to say goodbye. Because even if it hurts, it’s right. Because it’s time to let go and move on.


Sunday, May 23, 2010

a new camera and an afternoon in nature


hiking.... one of my favorite ways to spend a weekend afternoon.


Rancho San Antonio County Park- Mountain View, CA

"there is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature- the assurance that
dawn comes after night and spring comes after winter"
-rachel carson-
-the sense of wonder-


Karin and I- beginning our prep for the quest of Half Dome:








Friday, May 7, 2010

from 35,000 feet

From 35,000 feet, the mountains look so small. Who knew that Nevada and Utah were so beautiful from the sky? From up here, I can see an entire lake surrounded by snow-capped mountains. From this angle, I can see mountain ranges that stand alone and mountain ranges that seem to run into one another. I’m beginning to see a dry desert. I can see more out of a 1x1.5ft. window than I ever could standing on the ground.


Perspective. It’s so important. I love every part of traveling. I love the anticipation and deciding what to pack for an unknown adventure. I love handing over my luggage, trusting that it will arrive at my destination at the same time as me (I’m crossing my fingers....because even with all the flying I do, I have yet to lose my luggage). I love sipping airport coffee and wondering about the lives of the people around me. There are so many perspectives. The woman next to me might be flying to her dad’s funeral in Texas. The family behind me is traveling to see their dad returning from Iraq. The couple across the aisle is headed to the bliss of their honeymoon.


Me? Today, I’m traveling in order to gain a little bit of perspective on my own life. Not a lot of people choose Minnesota as a vacation destination from California (especially when the temperature is forecasted to be 81 this weekend in CA...) In Minnesota resides one of my best friends in the world- someone who understands the joy and the struggle of the job that I do 48 (or 54) hours every week. She walked the same arduous road that I did in our journey at Advent. When I made the decision to surrender a friendship that was breaking my heart only a few weeks ago, Katie was there. Katie will cry with me when I’m mourning the brokenness of relationships in my life and process with me the uncertainty of my future- especially today.


I had an interview earlier this week for a job that seems almost too perfect for me. I’m so excited for the opportunity to work for a thriving nonprofit with a small team and my heart breaks at the thought of leaving my team and my girls at Advent. I trust that God is going to open and close doors to lead me to exactly the place that He wants to use me the most.


My hope for this weekend is to reflect on my journey called life, reconnect with a friend who understands and knows me at my core, process the role I play in my family as a daughter and a sister, and maybe have a better idea of what my future looks like.


There’s something about being 35,000 feet in the air..maybe it’s just that the cares of the world can’t distract me like they do on the ground. Or maybe I feel like I’m closer to God up here.