The One with the End of an Era

In exactly one month, I will drive a third of the way across the country to my new hometown: 

St. Louis, Missouri.

A lot has to happen before then: a wedding, a Christmas, a trip to Haiti, and a 25th birthday. But this post is not about the inundated nature in which my life currently exists.

This post is about the end of an era.

It's like that season six episode of FRIENDS, "The One Where Ross Hugs Rachel," when Monica finally gets Rachel to understand that Chandler really is moving in and Rachel has to move out. They sit there crying about how it's the end of an era, how they've lived together for six years but now things are changing and Monica has to live with a boy!

I have lived in the Commonwealth of Virginia for six and a half years. Since July 2004, I've called this state my home. Ashland, Richmond, Charlottesville, and Norfolk - names I won't soon forget. We've had some good times. We've had some great times and some bad times. I've loved here and I've lost here and all those cliche things.

But it really is time to go.

 

On January 8, I'll pull up to a house in South City and unload my belongings. Two giant dogs, a cat, and a couple of new roomies will be there to greet me. I'll hang up my clothes, find a grocery store, and continue on with my journey. I hope to learn a little something new, get to know some wonderful people, and to have grand adventures. I hope to stay for a while.

So farewell, Virginia! I wish you the best.

PS: If you're ever near STL, be sure to holla! You know Anheuser-Busch is there, right?

 

for Shannon Acosta

My sister is getting married in one month.

Well, 26 days.

The ceremony and reception sites are booked. The RSVPs are in. The dress has arrived. It's almost game time.

After running through the probable setup and time line with the event coordinator at the country club, I can say with full confidence that this is going to be one kickin' wedding! With so much already accomplished in anticipation of the big day, we are left to iron out remaining details. What exactly should the centerpieces look like? Who will attend the program table? Which limo company should we go with? When should the bridal party arrive at the church in preparation for photos? Just how many gallons of white wine sangria should there be (many, please!)?

It's all very exciting.

It's the event that I stayed in Virginia for, that I lived in Norfolk one last time for. The day that I'm so glad I could be around all fall to help my siister plan.

The day. Down to the details.

Down to the moment one has in the periphery of one's mind during a lifetime: the moment one's sister gets married. But this time it's MY sister! MY dear sister who has had the chance to be there on so many of her friends' special days. It's HER turn to wear the beautiful white dress and look like a frickin princess (because she is very pretty even when she's not decked out). MY sister! And I get to stand there and try and hold back my buckets of tears while she looks so gorgeous and gets married to an excellent addition to the family (favorite new brother Marty!) because it is all just so very happy!

So I'll do my maid of honor duties and make a toast and dance the night away and get Shannon to eat something so she doesn't pass out and make sure nothing gets in the way of my sister having a perfect wedding experience because that's what she deserves - a simply fabulous party which everyone is attending because of her (and Marty).

26 days. A handful of details. One great night.

And after it's over, I just have to find myself a hubby so Shannon and I can take our boys and travel the world as a foursome!

Long Walks and Busted Plans

I'm currently in San Diego, soaking in the sun through the windows of my friends' apartment in Kensington. My time here has been lovely although I was not prepared for the 90 degree heat in early November (It is much colder than that where I come from and it's supposed to be in the high 60s the rest of my time here - fingers crossed!).

Who lives in San Diego? Melly (http://e52walkinlove.blogspot.com/) and Tiffany (http://tiffanyhandley.theworldrace.org/), two of my teammates from Haiti. I have wanted to visit ever since returning from Port-au-Prince and so one day about two months ago I purchased a ticket for Nov 3-10. It was a risky move - I was still in a state of applying for jobs out of state and didn't actually know where I would be in November. Buying a ticket out of Norfolk meant I was committed to being in Norfolk at the time of my flight and thus pretty much not getting a job anywhere else.

I was in the same rut that I was in prior to Haiti - applying for any and every job I seemed qualified for. And just like this past spring, nothing worked out. My plan for my life - to work in ResLife/Student Affairs/have a "real job"...Busted.

Have you had that experience? When you have had a plan for your whole life and then you get to a certain point and there is a fathomless abyss in front of you? You can do anything. Literally anything. Except what you planned on doing.

You can sit and be sad because your life is not going the way you planned and you don't know what to do. And I think sometimes we need moments of wallowing and crying out and fighting with God. But in my life, things not going according to plan has meant that I can work at an awesome coffeehouse (borjocofee.com) with a fun and helpful boss and have incredible relationships with coworkers and regulars. I can help plan my sister's wedding while living in the same city as her. I can take fabulous holidays to California, rife with long walks and talks about anything and everything, unfettered and honest talks because I completely trust these people. I can move to St. Louis simply because that is where God wants me to be and so I will follow Him.

In my life, things not going according to my plan meant that things could go according to His plan. And His plan is so.much.better. than my plan.

Haiti: Reprise

If you're reading this blog, then you most likely know that this past June I participated in a one-month missions trip to Haiti to help provide earthquake relief in the aftermath of the disaster. While I did not do as much manual labor (e.g. picking up rubble, construction, or demolition, etc) as I had expected, I had the opportunity to spend the month at the RENMEN foundation (www.renmenhaiti.org), an orphanage of sorts that houses 60 kids and runs a day school for the surrounding community. I was also blessed with a team of nine incredible sisters and brothers, family who came from all over the States to help show God's love to the people of Haiti. We had the absolute best month hanging out with the kids and each other, seeing God's kingdom grow and encompass our little orphanage "compound."

Even before we left Haiti at the end of June, most of the team felt that God had put it on our hearts to return to RENMEN, and soon. These kids have had so much heartbreak and have been abandoned by so many people in their lives - we do not want to be seen as ten more people who came and then went away, never to be heard from again. We want these children to know that we love them, that we think about and pray for them every day, that we would never abandon them, that we want everybody to hear their stories (please visit the RENMEN Facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/RENMEN-foundation/124817047560302 to see photos and read stories of the RENMEN kids).

Several weeks ago, two of my teammates (Melly and Emily, pictured above) and I made the final decision to return - we purchased our plane tickets for December 29-Jan 5 so we can be a post-Christmas surprise as well as spend the New Year holiday with our new Haitian family (and my 25th birthday!). Several of my other teammates have intentions to return with us but are figuring out scheduling/financial issues. I am so incredibly excited and blessed for this opportunity to return!

To make this trip a financial reality, I need to raise roughly $450 for a plane ticket and incidental costs, which means I need great people like you to consider supporting me both financially and prayerfully on this trip. I have complete confidence that God wants me to go back to Haiti and so have faith that we will easily match and exceed my goal. Any money left after trip costs will be used for my relocation to St Louis, Missouri after I return from Haiti - St Louis is where God is leading me and so I will follow.

As my dear friends and blog readers, I do hope that you will thoughtfully consider being a necessary part of my support. Thank you so much for always supporting me in the past as I know you will do in the future!

Please send me an email at ajbulgrien@gmail.com if you would like more information (like my address to send me a check!).

My life on the flooded streets of Ghent

For the past week, the east coast has been experiencing quite a lot of rain.

That's probably an understatement.

It started raining last Saturday night. I remember because I was childsitting and the head of the bed I was sleeping in was right under the window. The sound of rain drops woke me up. It made me really happy because I like rain very much and it has not rained here in awhile. Off and on, off and on, all week long, the clouds dumped buckets of water upon our heads. And as it seemed, off and on, off and on, all week long, life went badly.

My car window regulator broke. I don't have $300 to fix my car right now, so I taped the window shut with duct tape so it wouldn't gap and drench the inside of my car.

Because it was raining so much, the ceiling in my room (and then the ceiling in the TV room) started leaking to the point that plaster began falling. Now there is exposed mold in my bedroom, all the furniture is in disarray from moving it out of the way of the leak, and I can't sleep in there until the landlord comes to fix the leak by ripping out a huge section of the ceiling.

I tried to make oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, but someone's fiance recently got his own place, so she took all her cooking utensils over there. After deciding to try and make cookies anyway, I somehow (probably in my distress over the rest of the week) forgot various ingredients and the dough was a sloppy mess.

Weddings - especially weddings in which one's sister is getting married - are very stressful to plan.

I have physically felt run down and in a funk all week.

This week, more than any other week after my return from Haiti, I've really felt like I'm not supposed to be here right now. In Norfolk, in Ghent where the streets flood like crazy when it rains and people have days off of school and work because the roads are impassable. I am a visitor, a guest. I don't have a lease. While I do have a job, I was perfectly up front with my boss when he hired me: I was not planning on being here past December and in fact, could leave at any time. My current decision is to move to St Louis in January, although there is always a chance I could pick up and leave tomorrow. That is where I'm supposed to be, where I was headed in July before my sister got engaged, where I am headed pretty much as soon as I can.

How much of me feeling rotten is because of physical illness/fatigue gained from years of running myself ragged, and how much of it is because I know this place is not where God intends for me to live my life and I am just visiting for a little while?

It stopped raining sometime last night, leaving a cold front in the wake of the tropical storm remnants. How long can it last?

forever

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,

He leads me beside quiet waters,

He restores my soul.

He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil, for You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.

You anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord

forever

Like a child

On Sunday I went with my brother and his girlfriend to a Presbyterian church down the street. It's one of those churches where the young children are called out of the service several songs in so they can have their own, child-accessible sermon in a separate room. The pastor went on to talk about getting in God's way or something - to be honest, the sermon didn't stick with me that well. I get distracted easily. It was towards the end of the service when the kids came back into the sanctuary and rushed around to find their parents who were still in the pews when I became focused on the moment.


Two rows in front of me was a little girl, age 5 or so. She had on a pastel green dress with a matching bow in her almost-white hair. This little girl climbed up on the pew next to her mother, stood up, and held open her arms, just waiting for her mom to pick her up. As we were singing at the time and were standing, facing the altar, the mother did not notice right away what her daughter was doing. The little girl continued to stand, hands outstretched as widely as possible. When the mother glanced over, she immediately reached down to pick up her child. The little girl clung there and our eyes met. She stared at me with big blue eyes shyly peaking over her mother's shoulder. It was so sweet, I teared up.

Recently, I have so often been crying out for comfort from God, for Him to pull me in His arms and keep me safe. The moment in church was a perfect image to represent what God does every day as a way to show He loves us, whether we feel it or not. He is always willing to pull us close, soothe our troubled emotions, simply be there. I picture myself sitting on His knee, sometimes telling Him about my day and my thoughts, sometimes just being there with Him and soaking up all His goodness and wonderfulness and love.

Like the little girl in church, I am standing on a pew with my arms open. And God is reaching to pull me in close.

Katie

My senior year of college (and thus the year I was a Mentor Resident Assistant), Randy-Mac's Office of Residence Life and Housing hired a new Coordinator. I originally wasn't super happy with this because I had really like the previous Coordinator, a girl named Shannon who had gone to Randolph-Macon, and she and I got along quite well. Shannon decided that she had had her fill of nasty parent phone calls and assignment paperwork, so she left the college administration realm to do something else.

Enter Katie Thorne. Freakin' Katie Thorne.

Growing up in NOVA (Northern Virginia to you folks unfamiliar with the local geography), Katie left the D.C. metro area for the country when she attended Virginia Tech for college and grad school. And THEN, Katie came to Ashland! I liked Katie well enough from the start, but over my senior year we bonded and became close friends. My year on Richmond's Boulevard was largely characterized by nights out with Katie (along with our other awesome friends). When I moved to Charlottesville, Katie came to my humble penthouse apartment and I reciprocated with visits to her cinder block palace. Our time together has been rife with dinners at Sticky Rice, bottles of wine, nights in front of the TV, and long talks about anything and everything. Katie is incredibly accepting of everyone and is one of the people I can truly say enjoys life for everything it has to offer. The things most people only dream about, like going to Chicago on a whim for St. Patrick's Day or backpacking Europe with people she met while studying abroad in Austria, these are the things on which Katie thrives. I have such admiration for Katie's ability to grab opportunities that are fun and life-giving in a way other people typically don't have the audacity to do. Katie is so good at always seeing the positive in life, and I know that I have learned so much from having the privilege to spend precious moments with her, simply enjoying life.

During the past few months, my situation has been so blessed that I have been able to spend several weeks with Katie after my return from Haiti, and it's a good thing because last Tuesday Katie moved to Scotland (SCOTLAND!). Edinburgh, in fact. If you haven't been to Scotland, it is a gorgeous country, and I'm so happy for Katie's new experiences. While I am sad that Katie no longer lives a short hour and a half drive west on 64, I am so glad for the time we have had over the past three years and I'm very much looking forward to our future adventures in Europe!

(you can get to know Katie on her blog at flower3192.blogspot.com)

Your love is strong

(listen)

heavenly Father, You always amaze me

let Your kingdom come in my world and in my life

You give me the food I need to live through the day

and forgive me as I forgive the people that wronged me

lead me far from temptation, deliver me from the evil one

I look out the window, the birds are composing

not a note is out of tune or out of place

I look at the meadow and stare at the flowers

better dressed than any girl on her wedding day

so why do I worry?

why do I freak out?

God knows what I need

You know what I need

Your love is strong

the kingdom of the heavens is now advancing

invade my heart, invade this broken town

the kingdom of the heavens is buried treasure

will you sell yourself to buy the One you've found?

two things you told me, that You are strong

and You love me 

yes, You love me

Your love is strong

And we feel it in our souls.

I really like Don Miller's books. A lot. Blue Like Jazz has been a favorite since, oh, high school. I've read it time and again, chewing on passages I underlined once upon a time and then underline more, sentences that strike a chord with me now that didn't back then. Especially that first paragraph - "I am early in my story, but I believe I will stretch out into eternity, and in Heaven I will reflect upon these early days, these days when it seemed God was down a dirt road, walking toward me. Years ago He was a swinging speck in the distance; now He is close enough I can hear His singing. Soon I will see the lines on His face" - sometimes I'll pick up my beat-up copy and read that over and over and over...

I like Don's style. He makes Jesus real to me in a new way, in a way I haven't thought of before (which, to me, is the purpose of God literature). He writes stuff and I nod a little and say, "Yeah. Yeah, that's right. You got it right, Don."

I recently finished Searching For God Knows What. It is my new favorite.

I was looking through the pages, trying to find a good quote for the blog. My original idea for this post was to have an image of the book cover and then have a really good quote written underneath, a quote that would make you sit and think about your life and how you feel about God. But there are too many good quotes. Quotes about God's love and how "the game" and "the lifeboat mentality" truly have no purpose in God's kingdom. Whole sections of the book completely captivate me. I had never previously thought about the story of the Garden of Eden in such realistic terms of humanity's epic failure, but while reading the first hundred pages of Searching, I sat there and thought about how Adam and Even were real, how they existed and had a relationship with God before sin, and how they broke God's heart in the worst way possible by eating from that freakin' tree.

Don takes a number of words to describe how the Fall signified the beginning of a war, a war between God and Satan, a war between Good and Evil. This is why it's so important to love everyone and not hate those who are different from us, hate things we don't understand but LOVE as Jesus loves, because "this battle we are in is a battle against the principalities of darkness, not against people who are different from us. In war you shoot the enemy, not the hostage."

(Eph 6:12 has always been my all-time favorite verse. "For we struggle not against flesh and blood but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." The Message puts it nice and to the point: "This is no afternoon athletic contest that we'll walk away from and forget in a couple of hours. This is for keeps, a life-or-death fight to the finish against the Devil and all his angels.")

And so I propose a blog name change. Convictions are good. They often serve to keep us on the good path, but all of our struggles are deeper and more serious than that. They are more about God than that. I choose to try and go deeper. Because "for now, because of this act of war, relations have been strained. And we are feeling it in our souls."

Team Uncaged

Originally posted at relief.theworldrace.org by Tiffany Handley on 15 June 2010

The final installment of the Caged saga - why our team was UNCAGED!

On Tuesday, Sister Florence took our team up to the mountains. The ten of us piled into our cage and spent the better part of the morning inhaling diesel in single-lane, stop-and-go Haitian traffic. Hauling the truck up the mountainside was definitely an adventure. At one point, the back gates flung open and we almost lost Robby and Burke! Stopping on a mountain road to stretch and buy some produce, we breathed in the stunning views which were refreshing but short lived. After only half an hour, we climbed back in the truck, journeyed to an old French Baptist mission, and found our truck battery had died. After pushing the truck, we jump-started the engine and continued on to Sister Florence's brother's beautiful house.

A few hours later we found ourselves piling back into our cage as an ominous early evening storm poured down. Between the muddy, potholed roads and the water dripping through the tarp and down our backs, we were all reminded of the difficult country we were in. Most of us turned on our iPods and slumped in our rain coats. Smiles were few and far between.

About twenty minutes into our three hour drive, Heather received a text requesting prayers for one of the other team leaders who was extremely ill. We banded together, prayed for a speedy recovery, and then prayed over our own team's health and spirits. We closed the prayers and felt slightly more rejuvenated but a thick silence still clung to the muggy air.

Robby had spent the better part of the ride deep in prayer and spoke up that God had impressed it upon his heart to pray for the members of the other relief team staying at RENMEN with us. Sammie Jo tossed out more prayer requests, and we all agreed that God was telling us to call out to Him. As we prayed, the Spirit swept into each of our souls, filling us with unspeakable joy and excitement. We spent the last hour of the drive singing out praises and worshipping our faithful Father who had called us to this broken nation. We felt "Amazing Grace" echo through the city as our voices carried hope to the people gathered on the street in the summer night.

We all knew at that time how the Holy Spirit was working through each of us and reminding us that God's power and love are infinite. Though our bodies were being jerked around in our open-air metal box, God could never be trapped or stifled.

Later that night, Kellen proposed a team name change pertaining to our transportation for the month because of the amazing energy that awoke in us on our drive home. Almost simultaneously, three girls had heard the word "UN-caged" spoken to them. And what a fitting name that was for our team. Even though we've spent nearly a week behind the gates and walls of RENMEN and the rest of the time in the back of a truck, God has impressed on us that through Him we can serve and love boundlessly.


Team Uncaged - Haiti Dance Off from warren cheely on Vimeo.

Caged feat. Amy Joy

Originally posted at relief.theworldrace.org by Uncaged on 14 June 2101

A continuation from my last post. This is my story of the Caged experience.

My story
As we piled in the back of the truck and left the RENMEN Foundation compound on a trip downtown to view the earthquake wreckage, I did not realize that we were in a cage. I had been in the cab of the truck the previous day and the back of the truck was just that - the back of the truck.

We drove past familiar landmarks: the church with the missing front wall, the river bed filled with trash and rooting pigs, scores of Haitians selling food and wares on the side of the road. We drove on streets pitted with potholes and puddles. We drove ever closer to areas that sustained the most damage during the earthquake. We drove past watching eyes.

I became aware of the watching eyes and the reality of being in a cage as we approached the presidential palace. The back of the truck was boxed in by tight steel crosshatch. The doors were latched and padlocked shut. Our roof was a tarp to keep off the rain. A literal cage. We slowed to bet a better view of the wrecked palace. One of the once-pristine white domes had crunched into the ground floor, settling at an alarming 45 degree angle to the rest of the building. The remainder of the second floor was no better off, and the ground floor was in shambles.

I wanted to get out and poke around, get a better look and find out the story of who had been inside on January 12, how many people had died, what the plans were for rebuilding and restoring the palace to its rightful majesty. But we had to remain in the truck. I felt like a tourist taking pictures at a spectacle. And I felt judged by the Haitians who witnessed our truck passing by, like maybe they thought we imagined ourselves too good to even get out of our cage to take a moment of silence in honor and remembrance of what had happened.

We left the palace grounds and headed deeper into downtown. There were slabs of concrete lying on the ground, slabs that used to support homes and lives. Rubble piles were a constant theme. Some buildings were still standing, although who knows if they were stable or unsafe. There were always a lot of people on the streets continuing with their lives.

As we drove on in our cage, I was saddened by the loss of life and destroyed buildings, but I did not have the reaction I thought I would. I thought I would cry and have pains in my chest because I simply could not express my grief over the situation. I can't necessarily explain why I didn't quite feel that way. The trip was frustrating, but I sat on my bench and sent out little prayers, hoping they would find their mark.

I processed the ride later that night and thought of Haiti. There were a handful of people who were out working on rebuilding their homes, but the vast majority of people were simply living their lives among the rubble. I thought maybe it's still too close for them to be rebuilding their houses. Maybe they aren't ready to move on and let go so they choose to live in tents among the rubble.

It was about this time that I realized that the story of Haiti is close to my heart. Over the past five years I have experienced immense loss of life, destruction of relationships, and have moved so many times that currently I don't have a house but a storage unit. I am in the rubble and have not yet been ready to build again.

I am Haiti.

Caged

Originally posted at relief.theworldrace.org by Uncaged on 14 June 2010

This is the story of how my Haiti team became Uncaged, although I have shortened "Caged" from its original 10-page post into something a little more manageable. This is Heather's story, and I will post my "Caged" entry as well as the the corresponding "Uncaged" blog in a day or so. As background, Heather is Uncaged's team leader. This event occurred our first Sunday in Haiti when we had been within the perimeter of the RENMEN Foundation walls going on four days.

Heather's story
Gathered in a small room scattered around the tile floor, our team began an early Sunday morning worship time. The music was playing and outside you could hear the beautiful composition of birds chirping, wind blowing, and children singing. As I lay on the floor, I asked one question. "God, what do you want for us?" Time passed and after a while of listening, I clearly heard Him say, "Get them out. Get them out of these walls but don't let them 'do' anything." I had no clue what He meant but I knew what I needed to do.

After we dismissed from worship, I went and sat with Sister Florence. I asked her if there was any way we could go out into the city on Monday. She quickly answered with, "Why not today?" So we agreed to take the team to the city and drive around.

As the day went on, we had church with the children, began projects around the house, and planned meetings for other ministry opportunities. Going out into the city began to look like less and less of a possibility. God had clearly spoken to me that morning despite what seemed to be every obstacle coming our way and trying to stop Him, so I placed the situation in His hands and continued on with the day.

Around 3 o'clock we were told the driver had finally arrived. I walked outside and saw the truck sitting there, cage and all. Yes, the back of the truck was a massive cage. I quietly laughed to myself knowing that this afternoon was going to be quite interesting. I was getting ready to pile our team into a cage and drive them around to see all the earthquake destruction, not allowing them to get out. God has a funny way of teaching us things.

Purposely not explaining anything to the team, I got all ten of us situated in the cage and we headed for the city. Everyone was excited to get out. While they laughed and talked, I was biting my nails. I didn't know what to expect. I knew God was about to move but I knew that it would be hard for everyone to understand.

As we drove around, I stood peering out of the cage and holding onto the bars. People glared at us as if we were a caged attraction at the zoo. I hated it. I wanted so badly to turn around and tell my team to jump out. I wanted to stop the car, get out, and do something. I knew that is not what God had planned for that afternoon. Everything within me wanted to fix the pain I saw on my team's faces. He began to speak over me. "Heather, trust that I am a big God. I can restore this nation without you physically 'doing' anything. I want you to be obedient and through that My kingdom will be brought." Through His strength I was able to continue to walk in obedience while our team seemed to be falling apart in the back of the cage. As I prayed, I asked God to guide me. I felt prompted to turn around and tell our team to listen. Listen to what God was saying and speak it out. I knew I was ultimately setting them up.

Shortly after prompting them to listen, one of them spoke up and asked if we could get out. I wanted so badly to scream YES, but I casually passed it off and said we would have to ask. Without knowing the circumstances of what God had said to me, Father Michel gave a firm no and explained that it would not be a good idea. I saw the look on my team's faces when they heard the news but I knew that God had interceded for me. I had to allow them to go through this experience. After a couple of hours, we returned home with obvious frustration and brokenness on the team member's faces. I was excited to hear what God had taught them.

As we opened up the nightly debrief, I began to explain to them what God had told me. With a couple of smiles here and there, they began to speak out what God had taught them. It all makes sense now, they said. While we were physically caged in and feeling spiritually caged in, God had broken through to us and revealed that we were uncaged.

Here are the stories of what it felt like to be 'caged' through their eyes...

The Radical Experiment

I recently read Radical by David Platt. In terms of motivating me to pursue self-reliance and success as determined by US culture, it was exactly the wrong book to read.

But that was the point.

Platt speaks plainly about how we as a contemporary people have twisted biblical truths and the Gospel message to fit into our comfy lifestyle. Jesus said that to follow Him, we need to be willing to give up everything. Everything. Jesus commanded us to go to the nations, not only give our money, but go and give our time. Christianity is not about me or you, it's about God's goodness and Jesus sacrificing Himself to cover our sin.

It's a very starkly honest book and I recommend it to anyone, especially those who are tired of the "American Dream" and the US's competitive, materialistic culture.

I don't want to rely on myself. Let's face it - while I am a fairly responsible and trustworthy person, I can absolutely be too serious and/or too lazy. Why would I want to rely on that?

I only want to rely on God.

I want to abandon what America says is right and exist entirely in His kingdom. This is a process that will last until the end of my life. However, in an effort to get closer to my goal of complete abandonment of the world, I am embarking on the Radical Experiment. Platt outlines the Radical Experiment as such:

"I commit to a one-year experiment of radical living according to the Gospel and to making myself open to the permanent changes God wants to perform in my life as a result of this experiment. Over the next year...
1. I will pray for the entire world.
2. I will read through the entire Word.
3. I will sacrifice my money for a specific purpose.
4. I will spend time in another context.
5. I will commit my life to a multiplying community."

From August 1, 2010 to July 31, 2011, I will be living radically. I expect it to be hard. I expect to be under spiritual attack and thus distracted and even forget some days. And I expect the results to be awesome.

Almost One Month

I miss Haiti. Real bad.

It has been almost a month since I said “see you later” to Uncaged one by one at the airport. Almost a month since I walked away from Kellen’s car, alone for the first time in weeks. Almost a month since I held Oliver, stroked Orpha’s hair, or rode in the cage.

It’s amazing what can happen in one month, or alternately, what does not happen in one month.

July has been a lot of driving around, seeing people I haven’t seen in a while. It has been a lot of planning for my dear sister’s wedding. It has been phone time with my Uncaged sisters. It has been alone time with my Savior.

July has not been a lot of chasing after jobs. It has not been sleepless nights because there is too much work to do. It has not been stressful. It has not been many things that my life used to be.

Finding a God-fearing, supportive community is something with which I often struggle. Haiti was one of the first times in my life that I took the opportunity to really invest in a community in the way I should have been all along. Since coming back to the States, I’ve wrestled with what that means/looks like for my life in Norfolk. I was in church yesterday evening, standing and worshiping, when I broke down because I miss Uncaged so freaking much. I miss our worship sessions to start the day and long talks on the roof and singing in backs of trucks. I miss Emily yelling “That’s my jam!” and Sammie Jo’s laugh (as well as a billion other things). And as I was standing in the church pew with tears streaming down my face, God once again revealed to me that I have a hard time being invested in the present and always think life would be better somewhere else. It is something I deal with constantly. God also reminded me that I have a hard time being invested if I plan on leaving (ie I plan on moving come the new year, so why get invested here when I’ll only be here for five months?).

And then I was convicted. I was in Haiti for one month, one month, and was completely invested. I’ll be in Norfolk for at least five months (in theory), so my community and investments here could be that much more incredible. I’ve struggled because I do not have any of “my own friends” but only know people through my brother and sister. Who’s to say that my community can’t be my bro and sis, Dani, Crystal, Marty, Abin, Dustin, Sonja, etc? Who’s to say that these people are not exactly who God has intended for me to serve during my time here? (So if you’re one of those people, let me know how I can serve you.)

I miss Haiti, but I have the opportunity to bring Haiti here, now. And that sounds like the best thing ever.

Go.

On several occasions both before I went to Haiti and since my return, people have told me that they think what I’m doing is great, that they would love to go themselves except they need air conditioning.

Really? You need air conditioning? As in you’ll be completely useless or even die if you don’t have air conditioning?

That’s ridiculous. And not true. And really selfish.

No one needs air conditioning. YOU don’t need air conditioning. Air conditioning did not even exist until very recently in the history of the world. If you want to go build houses for people in rural Latin America who don't have homes or clean up the Gulf (now that the oil has, in theory, stopped) or provide hope to victims of human trafficking in Southeast Asia, then GO. Stop making excuses about air conditioning. If you’re in a place where everyone sweats all day, no one is going to care if your hair isn’t perfect or your makeup drips off your face. Everyone’s shirts get soaked through with sweat and after a while, being a little dirty simply becomes a part of life.

So stop saying you would go except…

And GO already!

Rain

I love rain.

It was raining when I woke up this morning and it’s still raining now. The forecast has it raining for several more hours. In the heat wave the east coast has been having, rain and a cold front are very good news. I don’t mind the heat so much, but I do love the rain. The image of water falling and hitting the ground. The sound of drops gently smacking the window. The feeling of clean it brings. The way that, even after it stops raining and you walk under a tree, it is still raining and you will get wet.

Rain makes me think of God.

Often, when I’ve been upset and crying for a few hours or days, it starts to rain. Sometimes it will be a soft rain, other times whole sheets of water come crashing down. It was in these moments that I came to think – sometimes it rains because I don’t need to cry anymore. God is crying for me. God is crying for all the evil in the world. God is crying for the Gulf oil spill, God is crying for Haiti, so I don’t need to cry anymore. This brings me incredible peace.

About two thirds of the way through my month in Haiti, Emily, Sammie Jo, and I were up on the roof talking. We were in that sweet spot – past the tents but not right up against the wall so nobody could see us unless he/she was looking real hard. I was telling them the story of my most recent ex-boyfriend, how the events of the fall of 2008 affected my life, and ways in which I am scarred from everything that happened. I was crying – not big racking sobs like I have been known to produce, but simple tears running down my face that I could not stop. I think all the sadness I have bottled up over the past two years forced its way out through my tear ducts. It wanted release and I had no way to control it.

When it started raining, we were nowhere close to done with our conversation, so we sat out in the rain. We let the rain drench our hair and clothes, let it wash over us completely. (Also, when you haven’t showered in a day or two, it’s nice to sit out in the rain so you can push another day without washing your hair.) It was God crying for me, letting me know he was still there and still cared more than I could know.

An hour or so later, when we were finished, we went downstairs to find every single other member of our team soaking wet. Apparently everybody had also been outside in the rain. Kellen had been under the mango tree. Melly and Tiffany had been by the pool. We had all been outside having a hard time dealing with our junk and so God cried for all of us. In that moment, in that rainy afternoon in Port-au-Prince, He provided healing and peace for all of Uncaged. He reminded us that He is still there and still cares. That He will always be there and always cares.

I love rain.

Cleaning House

I have been making excuses all week about why I would not sit down and write. My family was in town, my sister got engaged, we went wedding dress shopping and to the beach, et cetera. I think my favorite excuse is that I didn’t have my computer. How can I write if I don’t have my very own personal computer?

I’m currently sitting on my childhood bedroom floor in my parent’s house. I booted up my own computer for the first time in about a month and a half and immediately went to check my gmail account. What had my Haiti teammates written about today? I needed to see their words and feel more connected than a brief text message allows. Both Emily and Tiffany had written about…writing.

And then I was convicted.

When I left Haiti, I spent the night in Atlanta and attended a Braves game with some of my Haiti teammates. I was supposed to fly to Philadelphia the same day I left Haiti, but I was not ready to walk away from it all. I changed my flight to the following day. And I changed it to fly to Norfolk instead of Philly since that is where my family planned on gathering for the nation’s birthday. My whole time in Norfolk, the only clothing I had was what I took to Haiti (okay, my mom brought down a couple pairs of jeans and my beach bag, but that’s it). My bag contained some beat up t-shirts, a couple skirts and pairs of shorts, and my Reefs. For a month and a half, that is all I have had to wear.

Today, on the way to my parent’s house, we stopped by my storage unit.

There was so much stuff…I wanted everything to disappear. I want everything to disappear.

I don’t need any of it. My shelves, my five different bath towels, the ottoman containing my bed sheets, my couch, I want it all gone. It got worse when I got to my parent’s house, which is where all my clothes are. I am completely repulsed that I own so much stuff.

I’m spending the next couple of days cleaning house. I don’t need most of my junk – in fact, I just need to find my camera cord. That’s about it. I’m going to make a big old pile of Stuff I Don’t Need, and then I’m going to give it away. I don’t have a house to put all my stuff in, anyway. I feel incredibly burdened and feel like I am going to have a difficult time doing what God really wants me to do if I do not get rid of my stuff.

I think there is a parallel in there in which stuff=all the emotional baggage I confronted in Haiti. But that is a story for a different time.

So I’m getting rid of my stuff. And I’m keeping a record of my thoughts.