thoughts
drip
then trickle
then rush down
like a waterfall
become a flood
until you're drowning
submerged
held under by
the weight of them all
make it to the surface, but
you're gasping for air
and you can't
can't
can't breathe and 
you're not sure
you want to anymore
will it always be
a struggle
to survive?

feeling the same way all over again.

The truth resounds and in my mind I recognize it's true
but my heart is heavy and remains unmoved by you.
I want to feel the joy that I once knew.
God, take this heart of stone and give me one that's new.
The light has left my eyes, but I think that they can see
Lately my whole life has been about nothing but me.
I know you died that I would be set free
Somehow I've settled for just letting things be.

(found this poem in my old journal...and it seems about right at the moment)

not there yet.

Sometimes even in our desire to serve and follow God, we lose sight of Him.

The first time I went to Haiti, I felt something stirring in my heart. Something was different about this place, about these people. As I returned to Haiti, each trip provided further confirmation that God was calling me to serve Him there.

So I started making plans. I thought that I knew how it would best work out. I would start this organization, build a school, and, according to me, already be living there beginning last month. I heard one word from God, and without waiting to listen for more, I took off running. If you know me, this is not shocking.

And then doors started closing in my face and plans fell through. My heart sank as things didn't happen at the pace and in the manner I wanted. My last trip to Haiti was not at all what I'd expected it to be. But God is not the least bit surprised by the way things are unfolding.

Want to know some really difficult words to hear from the Lord? "You're not ready." In the last month, that may be the only solid thing I've heard God speak to me. And, well, it's pretty humbling.

I have been spending the last few months trying to reconcile two seemingly conflicting desires in my heart. One part of me longs to drop everything here and move to Haiti - NOW. The other part of me has been unable to forget about the time a year ago when I was taking classes in order to go to nursing school. Nursing school is a big financial commitment, regardless of where I choose to go. It is also a large chunk of time - 3 years - during which school will be my primary focus, and I won't be free to travel to Haiti whenever there's an opportunity. I thought that in choosing nursing school, I would be turning my back on serving in Haiti.

But I couldn't get nursing school out of my mind. My desire to understand injury and illness in order to know how to facilitate healing grew even more during the five months I worked in the office of a medical clinic in Jackson. So I took a step of faith and began looking at and applying to schools in Mississippi. And in the same way the doors closed for me to move to Haiti this summer, the doors began flinging wide open for nursing school.

This is where I find myself. Preparing to go to college (again) and really excited about it. Humbled by the realization that God has a lot of work to do on my heart before I can live and minister in Haiti. Ready to see Him use these next three years in ways that I can't even comprehend or imagine. And honestly desiring, for the first time in maybe my entire life, to allow Him to have control of things. I mean, really, truly have control.

So much of my struggle in all of this stems from a deep-rooted pride, a lifelong attempt to be self-sufficient. Yet I was not created to be independent, but to depend on my Savior in all things. I serve a God who constantly whispers to me, "Oh, dear one, remember this: my grace is sufficient for you. My power is made perfect in your weakness." And I long to echo Paul in saying, "Yes, Lord! Therefore I will boast all the more about my weakness, because when I am weak, YOU are strong."

Oh, but I'm not there yet.

writer's block

Blank page, blank slate.

Try to tell myself that

empty can be good if you let it

Fill

with something real.

Not mere

vowels and consonants

hung together by accentuation and punctuation

and pause

Forming complete thoughts

which are

completely and utterly separate

from who you are.

No.

I will delve into this

void until I uncover

meaning.

'Til from the darkness

bursts glorious

light, gleaming.

Oh, black hole you

will not swallow me whole.

You may take my body but you

can never have my soul.

on earth as it is in heaven.

Here I sit on my cot, in a little house made of plywood and screens, listening to the Madames sing praise songs in the room adjacent to mine. The only light I now have is the light of this computer screen. Tonight is my fifth night at OLTCH, and I love it here. I have fallen in love with the kids, especially the little boys, who constantly hunt me down to inform me it's time for me to read to them, and who line up at night for kisses and hugs. Oh, they are so precious. It makes me shudder to think of where they were before they came here. It makes me shudder to think of all the kids out there who still live such nightmares everyday.

Today we went to eat in town with three other ladies, one of whom works in the area, the two other ladies her visitors. She shared with us how she'd gone to the Haitian police to report the director of an orphanage in town who was raping the children there, and how enraged she'd been when they did nothing. My heart sunk, and I felt naseous - and still do, writing about it. That someone who was entrusted these precious lives was abusing his power in such a sick way, while those who were capable of putting an end to it stood by apathetically. What do you do in the face of such darkness and injustice? The mere thought of it makes me feel so completely helpless. The only thing I know is...pray.

Let your kingdom come, let your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Oh, Jesus, you are the only one who brings restoration to all the brokenness. Let your kingdom come! We need you now, Jesus. Haiti needs you now.

You have given me a vision, and I find myself having to fight to protect it - already. I want to say that I resolve not to let anything stand between me and the vision you've laid on my heart...but oh, I cannot even say this with certainty. I know myself, and I know better than anyone my own fickleness, my own pride, my own shortcomings. But now I see something different happening in me that I can't explain. There's a passion driving me that cannot be contained.

I will fight to protect this vision you've given...and I will do whatever it takes to see it through.

because of who you are.

Have you ever been in a situation that caused you to take a step back and evaluate the relationships in your life? Maybe you realized that the people you thought were your true friends only hung around when it was beneficial for them...or that a person you love and would do anything for, only loves you because of just that - you'd do anything for him or her? Or maybe you've experienced exactly the opposite, and have come to realize that your motives in a relationship are completely selfish and your love for that person superficial.

Today I was mulling over this. This is a huge fear I have: the fear that the people I am closest to love me, not for who I am, but for what I do for them. What a painful experience to find this true of someone that you deeply love - to the core, unconditional, cross-sea-and-land, I-would-take-a-bullet-for-you love.

And, oh, what pain we cause our Father, when we focus on the gifts instead of the gift Giver. When we love the creation more than the Creator. When we love Him, not for who He is, but for what He does for us.

God, you are so lovely, and so deserving of all my love - simply because of who you are.