Prayer Changes Things

Every night before we go to bed, the student body gathers together to spend time in prayer.

I was so blessed last night to see
To see the growth in the students.
To see new yearnings to grow closer to our Father.
It brought me so much joy
That I could have,
I should have cried.

I've come to the point in which I don't focus so much on answered prayers
As I do my yearning to spend time with Him.
I have never experienced this in my relationship with God before.

And in this, I become suprised when He blesses me with answered prayers.
He is answering prayers at Alaska Christian College.
He is also answering prayers by changing and molding
By healing my heart.

Prayer is like breathing
I find that I need it to get through my day.
I find that it no longer feels like an obligation.
I actually desire
I long for it.

So many things are changing.
It is hard for me to fathom that all it took
Was for me
To let go.

I smile as I watch my Father work.
He is working.
He is in a way
That is more creative
Than I could have ever imagined.

Keep watching :)

Thoughts

I've spent the past couple of months in a rut.

Feeling confused, lost, and alone. As I was talking with a friend about my struggle of connecting my heart with my head when it come to Alaska, I tried to reason why I was not transitioning as well as I had hoped I would be by now.

She said well...maybe you just don't like it.

The thing is
I don't want to not like Alaska.
But I cannot deny that it is beyond my comfort zone.
There are many times that I feel isolated because I am so used to
Being social.
I want friends that want to hang out with me.

I struggle with questioning God and why He has me here.
I wonder if I am even making a difference.
This is why I am thankful that our God
Is a patient God.

I read somewhere this week that we grow closer to God not necessarily through answers, but through the questions.

I have a lot of questions.

My professor this past summer mentioned that we should not think ourselves so significant that God cannot use our failures.
Even if I feel I may be failing,
God is still using me.
That is
...The beauty of His grace.

I heard today in chapel that prayer changes things.
I want God to change my heart about Alaska.
To teach me the beauty of being here.
To love it with my heart.

Because so often I struggle
I cry out to God in anger
Anger about why He allowed me to experience pain
At the same time of major change.
Sadness about feeling alone.
I guess pain makes us feel
...Like we are more alone than we actually are

I know that God has me here for a purpose.
And maybe He is teaching me trust
Before clarity.
Because I hope someday that He will teach me
Teach me of the work He is doing in me.

Maybe it is hard to see because I am in the midst of this difficult process.
I can't see until I come out of this enlightening tunnel.

But regardless of how I feel,
He is still God
And continues
To do a good work in me.

Kingdoms Fall

I've never been a fan of grief.

I liken grief to be like watching the intricate kingdom that I have built slowly burn to the ground.
I don't
...like watching my hopes and dreams turn to dust.

But the truth is that God burns down kingdoms for a purpose.
Perhaps, I thought my kingdoms to be greater than His.
I usually avoid watching the process.
It is just too painful for me.

But in the process of running,
This fleeing from the my kingdom in ruins,
I miss a crucial part of the story.

I miss His arms around me as each foundation turns to ashes.
I miss His words of hope in my despair.
But most of all,
I miss the part where
He clears away my broken kingdom

...And sets a place for me to find comfort
In His.

So with this being said,
I am okay with
Watching what I thought i loved
Burn to flames.

Divine Connections

I read today that we can rid ourselves of an addiction by simply starving it.

Sure, the first few days will be the most difficult to endure, yet I think there is some truth to this. This week I decided that I rely too much on connection with others. I like to believe that connection is a beautiful thing. God created it beautiful. I try to seek it in many of my relationships.

The problem comes when I cross the boundaries of others in order to feed my need for connection. Not only do I cross boundaries, but I often deny my own boundaries that are put in place to guard my heart. It is altogether unhealthy.

I love to be vulnerable
But
I cannot convince people to want to be vulnerable with me.
At least...not in a genuine way.

I don't want to manipulate my way into connection no matter how much I think I need it.
I need to seek a greater connection with God and trust that He will place those deep connections on my journey wherever He takes me.

Joyce Meyer says that we should pray for 'Divine Connections.'
After reading this, I find it to be a unique concept.
I want friendships that are connected through a passion for Christ.
Today, I took a student to coffee with me and we discussed what God was teaching us.

I had so much fun talking about our Heavenly Father.

This week I decided to give up facebook. It seems to be a common thing to do nowadays. Yet I don't like to do things without a purpose. I realized that I was so consumed with keeping up with my friends from home that it was hindering my ministry here. This social networking thing claims to connect

...Yet leaves me so disconnected.

Yet even on my first and second day away from it,
I struggled to give it up.
I rationalized that maybe if I only check it once a day.
I admit,

I failed on the first day.

...and on the second day.

I think this signifies that it is an addiction.

I am so glad that God teaches us through our failures because I find that when I try to give things up, I fail miserably. Yet through my failures, God is blessing me by continuing to teach me through them.

I need to let go of my grip, my unhealthy need to form connections and give them to Him.
I want to have the faith to be able to say,

"God, I believe that you can form some amazing Divine connections in my life."

Perhaps this trust will help me rely less on my
...addiction to facebook :)

Run Forrest...Run

3,650 days

That is
...nearly how long I have fought for the approval of men.

I feel as though I have been running for a decade. As though I decided to become Forrest Gump and just started running from my fear.

My fear of rejection and abandonment.

I lost count of how many men I tried to earn love and approval from in this period of time. I feel as though I traveled the entire country and have reached the point like Forrest did when others asked him what he was going to do next.

I think I'm just going to go home.
I'm tired.

Home is where I don't need to fight to be loved and accepted.
Home is where I rest in the Father's love for me.
Home is where I can break from this addiction
This idol
That I can somehow find worth in the approval of men.

If I could apologize to anyone right now it would first be to Jesus
And then it would be to my heart.
I'm sorry I did not protect the one place that He dwells.
I never realized how much pain I was causing myself.
And how much pain I would have to endure to find healing at this moment.

But I do know something for certain.
I am done running.
I am sick of feeling guilt, regret, and shame.

I can't undue the past
I can't get back the time that I wasted trying to convince others to love me,
But I can use these healing scars

For His glory.

This is change.

And So It Begins...

I've never had to say so many goodbyes in my life.

Granted, I have moved my fair share of times in life. I am uprooting from the area in which I have spent the most time in out of my entire life. I was, as always, dreading these goodbyes.

There is something to be said about goodbyes. I have learned to use it as an opportunity to realize how blessed I am by God. The love that I have for these people cannot even be expressed in words.

When it comes to moving, I believe that it is important to realize that it is a process of grief. I must realize what I am losing, yet at the same time, I must be appreciative of the impactful relationships. There have been many tears. Not necessarily bad tears, but ones that remind me of the joy that others have been in my life. It represents how much I love these people. When you put your whole heart into something, your heart is going to break when you leave.

Tears are a good thing.

Friends and family, I may not be able to fully verbally express how much I truly appreciate you right now, but know that I deeply love you guys and am thankful for the time spent with you. All of your support and prayers have meant the world to me.

While I may be filled with sadness at this time, I am also truly excited for this new journey that God has for me. I hope to tell you all of what God has been teaching me in ministry and through new friendships in Alaska.

May God bless you all.

Love,

Alicia Janae

He Speaks

I love that music can have the power to speak for us when we can't find the exact words to verbalize.

We can resonate with an artist's lyrics even if the specific experience that we went through was completely different than what had orginally inspired the musician to write these words. It is as though they, these words, have been perfectly placed to reach our hearts. This is connection.

I was told that I did not have to come back to counsel for the last week of camp because I would probably need the time to mourn the loss of a friend. His death was so sudden.

I said to assume that I was coming back unless I contacted them.

On the surface, it doesn't make a lot of sense to go a funeral for a friend and then go a to a worship concert later on the same day.

My eyes red and my heart weary, I forced myself to worship with the band Starfield after I had attended Kyle and his father's funeral with over six hundred people.

Speechless.

As a vocalist, it comes natural for me to sing.

...Unless the song touches me so much that I lose the ability to even speak.

My pastor once said that in worship, tears are a sign of God healing us. If this is true, then during that concert, I may have hardly sung.

...but I experienced His healing.

It was as if these worship songs that Starfield played that night were played just for me. They struck such a deep chord in my heart.

That I could no longer sing.

I struggled to keep singing until I finally surrendered and chose to listen to Him. As I wrestled with the decision of going back to camp, I let the musicians sing for me these truths that He wanted me to hear.

I told Him that my cup was empty. I have nothing left to give.
He told me to let Him fill it.
I said that I had no strength left to counsel these girls.
He said...In Me, you do.
I asked Him to use someone else,
But He said
...I already chose you.

Just as I let these musicians sing these words that I could not sing, I let God give me the strength that I did not have to impact these girls my last week of camp.

All because He moved this band named Starfield to write these songs that during that night

...Spoke to me.

"Here I am
As gold to the fire
I will surrender to Your hand
To this place
Lord, I have come ready for Your touch

It's all for You
It's all for You
I'm letting go
I'm letting go"

--Starfield "All for You"

The King is enthralled by your beauty

I would always sit in the balcony by myself during our tuesday night worship services at Judson simply because I did not want to distract anyone with my voice. I would always sing songs and harmonize in solitude with just God and myself. If someone sat near me, I would casually move away so that they could not hear my voice.

During one night of worship, I decided to casually move away when a man sat at the pew next to me. A couple songs into the service, I finally realized that it was the worship leader of the service that had sat next to me. What was he doing not leading worship? I didn't want him to think I didn't like his voice, so I moved closer to him.

I had suddenly become self-conscious of my voice. Was it too distracting? Was it on the right key? After a while of these questions, I finally became content with someone being able to hear my voice. My voice wasnt for him after all...it was for God.

As the worship service ended, that same man came up to me and put his hand on my shoulder. He then proceeded to tell me that I had a beautiful voice. I had thanked him, but immediately shifted the focus off of me and onto him.

Recently, I was able to write and record a song with some friends for fun. One of my best friends that has great recording skills encouraged me to listen to it with him. I had dreaded the thought of listening to my own voice, but he kept reassuring me.

I am pretty certain that I winced the entire time that I first listened to it. It was an altogether strange experience for me. Afterwards, he asked me if I realized how unique and interesting my voice was and also told me the good qualities of it.

...But I couldn't see.

I took the cd home and listened to it until I could finally believe.

I wanted to believe that the gift that God has given me was beautiful. I wanted to see the product of the intimate journey known as music that I have been on through out my life. I began to see my voice as fragile, vulnerable, tangible, and real.

...yet beautiful.

I feel that as women in this society, we feel this constant pressure to reach what society deems to be pretty or beautiful. It is like I am try to acheive this ambiguous goal that is meaningless in the eyes of Christ.

I have been praying that God would remind me just as my friend reminded me about my voice the areas in which I am beautiful.

Because I am ashamed to admit that I have lost sight.

That I would see my beauty in Him and not in others nor what society claims beauty to be. That it does not matter how broken I am right now. Because brokenness is a story that is real and beautiful. And all the more is Christ and how He is healing our wounds in our lives. And for women that struggle with this too, it is my prayers that he reveals this to you as well.

That you would be in a relationship with Christ in which you realize how much He loves to pursue you. That the King of creation in enthralled by your beauty. He is captivated by you.

And you are His beloved.

Dear Sisters...

In Christ,

You are Beautiful.

Jesus Wept

Life is a gift.

I am so thankful that God has carried me through the many mountains and valleys. I can celebrate and rejoice with Him when I reach the breathtaking view of the mountain.

...and I can have Him wrap His arms around me when I struggle through the valleys.

This is my God.

My God that knows my innermost thoughts and gave me every breath of life.

I am not worthy.

During a worship night a few months ago, I was hit with the reality of just how much He loves me.

And I wept.

Today I said goodbye to one of my dearest friends/former roommate. In the process, I asked her if there was anything she wanted to say to me before I left. She said, "I love you" and gave me a hug.

It may sound simplistic, but I told her that those were the most perfect words that anyone could say to me right now. I know this because I cried after she left. Not just because I was sad, but because I could truly feel how much my friend loved me.

Love. Jesus wept out of love even though he knew that Lazarus would rise. Jesus loved Lazurus this much.

Jesus loves me this much. I know this because the Son of God chose to do God's Will and sacrifice His life for me.

I wasted so much time searching for the love of man thinking that it would fulfill me. I searched everywhere but the One that holds and protects my heart. That night I wept out of joy because although I was completely broken, I came to a greater understanding that...

Yes, Jesus loves me.

Freedom Writers

During bible study the other night, we watched a clip from the movie Freedom Writers. You know, the part where she firmly tells her student that he is not failing. I was only able to watch part of that movie once when I was substitute teaching, but I really resonated with how the teacher invested in the lives of her students.

As a substitute teacher, I can often walk into a room and pinpoint the students that will cause problems or test me. It is something that I learned from being a mental health counselor. As we were transitioning from one class to another, I spotted the next main challenge. Looking at the entire class, I realized that this class would be mostly high school boys and the circumstances for me subbing weren't the greatest. A boy straight out said, "I am going to start a fight."

Rather than use the obvious teacher response, I decided to use a different approach. I went up to the boy before class started and asked questions about himself. What he liked to do and how could he use those interests to succeed in life. What was his favorite class? Why was he upset right now?

I realized through this conversation that not only did he not get the attention that he needed in life, but he also did not have enough people that believed in him. His goals. His dreams. By taking the time to get to know him, I had avoided a classroom fight.

I think often times that people don't realize just how much impact we have on others when we simply believe in them. To say, you may not see this potential or dream inside yourself, but know that I do. To tell them that, like the teacher said in Freedom Writers, you are not failing.

To encourage them to make you proud because you truly care.

It is my hope that someday I will become a professor like the teacher in Freedom Writers. That I will inspire others to believe in the dreams that they have and act on them. Pursue them.

Someday :)

Just Go

"He comes where He commands us to leave. If you stayed home when God told you to go because you were so concerned about your own people there, then you actually robbed them of teaching of Jesus Christ Himself"-Oswald Chambers

The great thing about my Best Friend is that He knows exactly what I need. He knows the exact words to tell me so that I can be at peace regardless of circumstances.

Just go.

But the people of my churches? What about my students? The people that I am ministering to here in the Rockford area? These are the questions that had been going through my mind about moving to Alaska before I read what Oswald Chambers had written.

My professor for my first intensive this semester told us don't think ourselves so significant that He can't do His work through other people. I was reminded of this as I think about this quote. God will move and do mighty things in Rockford.

Without me.

I merely one person, one part of the body of Christ. When he commands me to go elsewhere, I should not worry that part of His Will may not get done without me here. I am significant in the fact that I am made in the image of Christ, but I must also be reminded that I am nothing without Him.

And if He tells me to trust Him in a new journey, I must be obedient to His calling.

I've spent the summer outside of my field of work and while it has been difficult, it has served to reconfirm my passions. I want to serve and love people just as He does for His people. I want to challenge people to grow more in their faith. I hunger to grow more in my own.

I am excited for how this opportunity is going to deepen my relationship with Christ. I want to walk with Him. I want to know Him more.

So with that being said, I am going to take a leap of faith...and just go.

New Beginnings

I have never liked endings to stories entirely well...because they are endings.

I have a tendency to hold onto things that have well since dwindled away. As a child, I had to adapt to the challenge of moving to new towns multiple times. I remember the first time I moved from a place that I loved. The sense of community being ripped away from my hands resulted in a tear in my heart.

It is sad to transition from the 'here and now' to the person that has become a product of the 'out of sight, out of mind' mentality. The constant changes in my life gave me a new perspective in life.

I was tired of the out of sight, out of mind mentality. I didn't like that it sometimes signifies that chapters or rather, relationships have ended or dissolved. I wanted to keep connection to the fullest. I tried to keep all friendships from deteriorating.

This attempt was like reaching for the impossible. It was as though I was seeking to hold on to every moment that I had experienced. Every thought that I had chosen to ponder.

Life is ever changing, ever forming. Friendships are journeys that we go through in different seasons in life. Sometimes we are lucky enough to have those friends that stick with us through multiple seasons. At other times, friendships are only meant to be there for a short while.

Regardless, we must come to terms that friendships can indeed end. The period of closure and process of moving are important parts of starting new beginnings. We can't always find the joy of beginnings when we are still lost in the ending.

So here's to new beginnings.

Let's Skip the Small Talk

This is not normal.

During this week long intensive that I am doing on group therapy in Virginia, we are supposed to be learning what it is like to go through the counseling process.

I've never been on the other side so this is definately an eye opening experience. Most of us are fighting the 'counselors' inside of us when we are in a group setting. We each get only one chance to be the facilitator.

This means that we must be a group member for nine hours of the time.

I am fighting the conflict in me that wants to be the counselor in a group setting. Whenever we are tempted to 'co-facilitate,' we have to go back and focus on ourselves. It is completely going against the grain of a counselors natural leadership framework.

We are also told that our group will know that we are making progress when we experience conflict and resistance. My professor said that in regards to group therapy, you are only as deep as your most shallow member. She also said that groups function as families. How you react in your group is most likely how you will react outside of group.

So profound.

We are supposed to trust the group process and not deny the inevitable conflict.

I've never realized how difficult and painful it can be to be on the other side. We are pushed to be vulnerable and go deeper. Be completely honest no matter what. You have to have complete trust in the leader. Group work skips the small talk and goes straight to the heart of the issues.

Which is exhausting.

But I am learning so much.

Disconnected Generations

We are such a visual generation. If something stimulates the mind, we listen to it.

I was talking with a friend today over coffee as I explained my issues with going into writing. I have three mediums of expressing my voice: through writing, music, and friendship. Depending upon the period of my life, one always seems to dominate the other.

For years, music was my main medium of expressing myself. If I had to choose between the voices, my writings often times took the back seat.

I always say that writing was my first love. This passion existed even before my passion for music. After my second grade teacher had us write something on Johnny Appleseed, I knew that I was going to be a writer for the rest of my life.

I grew up with a vivid imagination, something that I believe our society is losing as technology advances. I loved to create stories in my head. It is what inspired me.

This texting, facebook, social networking, generation me is what causes me to fear that writing will become less of an importance. It makes me believe that our creations that come from the development of imagination will suffer as technology and materialism climb to the top priorities of many people's lives. We will lose this sense of wonder.

It is ironic that these technological mediums that are supposed to help us form connections often times do just the very opposite. We are a distracted, disconnected society.

I've been with friends that are so caught up in their conversations via text or facebook that it is almost like I am invisible. There is no connection. The only memories that I am creating are the ones of me observing others creating distant connections.

Which makes me long for the cheap, distant emotional connections because at least it is something in our distracted generation.

And in return, I have become a part of this very generation.

Cause I'm Somewhere In Between

What is real or just a dream. Gotta love Lifehouse.

Today I realized that I have never officially 'quit' a job. I've been on a lot of 'leave of absences' with college and such that just led to a mutual parting ways. I guess that this goes to show.

I don't like letting go.

Today was a rather dreary day with the weather deciding that it did not want to conform to the likes of spring. It forgot the memo that april showers bring may flowers. Needless to say, I could smell the rain rather than the roses on this day.

I held the keys in my hand. I told myself that I was doing this because it was good for me. There was no turning back after I had reached this point.

These keys were more than just keys to open or close a store. These keys opened every door of the locked facility. By giving them away, I was making a statement that I was choosing to no longer be a part of these girls' lives.

It sounds crazy, but as I was about to turn them in, I wondered what was the appropriate way to mourn in this process of moving on. Because that is what it is.

Moving on.

Was I supposed to cry? Who cries over a job? I should know that this was more than a job. I fought for six months to find hope in the midst of darkness and failure. And it would break me too much to go down with the ship so to speak.

But that doesn't mean that I will stop fighting.

During this summer, I am putting a bunch of my writings from college and this year together to hopefully publish a book that will raise money to fight against human trafficking. You hear about human trafficking. You get hit emotionally when you hear about the stories. I can't go into detail, but I have now seen it happen to others. People probably don't even know how prevalent it is in America. Just look at the personal pages on the internet. It speaks volumes of how crucial it is to make a stand.

The title will be called 'Bare Vulnerability' with the basis that it takes a lot of bravery to even try to get out of the cycle of human trafficking. It is a vulnerable issue in general to expose such a tragedy.

But I want to be a part of the movement to stop this.

This is my dream.

A Night to Remember

It made me forget that...

I had never been to a high school dance.
I can count the number of slow dances danced on one hand.
And that I would never be able to count the number of legitimate dates I've been on
Because I have yet to go on one.

I believe that humans long to feel special.

When I heard that one of the biggest churches in Rockford was putting on a free prom (meaning dinner, dresses, make up/accessories, and limo ride of no charge) for those with special needs, I realized that this idea was a brilliant idea. In my foundations of exceptionality class, we discussed how those with special needs are considered to be the least of these in our culture. To me, this is truly applying our call to love the least of these.

My students that day had shown me the poster of it with their eyes gleaming as they discussed this very important day that was about to come up. The girls would always share with excitement that it made them feel loved, beautiful, and special.

Loved.
Beautiful.
Special.

I've always sought to find these things in human relationships. I finally decided to stop searching this month mostly because I realized that I had been searching everywhere but where I needed to find these three things.

Enough. I would always sing choruses of God being enough for me in church while in the back of my mind thinking of the things that would make my life seem 'more.' As humans, we are prone to wanting more. We pursue things that we think will fulfill our lives and desires. Even our desires to feel loved. To be seen as beautiful. To know that someone believes that we are special.

We search so much that we forget to recognize His voice. His voice that calls His children to an intimate relationship. Our Creator that tells us these very things that we have been longing to hear. If we would only come to Him, we would realize that there is true contentment and peace in this ultimate love story.

This love story of the cross and His grace. Of His relentless pursuit of us despite the many times that we have fallen. A friend once told me that we were chosen, not needed by God...and to always remember that truth.

And in the same way, I should always remember that I, as a child of God, was chosen.

And this
Makes me feel special.

Star Struck

Fan or Friend?

That is the question.

One of my favorite sports is people watching. My other favorite sport is going to concerts.

Okay. So it is not a sport. But when you are in a mob of insanely pumped people dying of heat, I am pretty sure you can count it as excercise.

It is really interesting to observe people in the crowd of a concert. You know the goal is to get to the front so that you can magically shake the lead singer's hand and tell yourself that you will never wash it again...until you realize that their hand is sweaty so you immediately wash it right after the show.

People start screaming crazy random and sometimes inappropriate things in between and during songs (you know you are a teacher when you start quietly reprimanding the crowd for saying something inappropriate). If evolution were actually true, then I would say concerts can cause us to regress to whatever animal it was that we 'evolved' from in the past. If Freud's theory of the Id, Ego, and Superego were still followed, we would return to the Id stage. I think this is why I almost get trampled at a lot of concerts. I wish more people had pity for the short people in concerts. If so, I would always be in the front row and be able to actually see the band.

But what is so great about concerts is that we are all gathered there for a reason. The musician's artistic work has impacted our lives in at least some way in order for us to care enough to be there. All of us have different interpretations and stories that relate to the musical creations. This is the beauty of art. And I think that regardless of whether or not the musician knows that their music has impacted their fans lives, those musicians still have a special place in our hearts.

I can't help but wonder what it is like to be put up on a pedestal as a musician when faced by fans. When I look at culture, I think of American Idol. Granted, I don't watch that show, but I see what it does to society. It is all about who can be the next 'idol.' Funny how idolatry is everything against what we believe.

I was thinking of this as I was watching Relient K play this week. What exactly would I say if I met one of the bands that had most impacted my life? As I thought about it more, I believe I would say words of encouragement and then be like "Dude, let's be friends."

Sometimes we forget that they are humans too. That they were created in His image for fellowship and relationship. I want to meet bands and provide them with at least the encouragement that can lift their spirits. We are called as Christians to do just that.

Ironically, I had met two people at the concert while waiting for Paramore to end. My friend and I were drawn to them because honestly, who randomly has rubix cube wars at a rock concert? As we enthusiastically watched and conversed with these people, I had expressed my disappointment in not being able to meet Relient K. More than once.

He was right in front of me.

I was so focused on meeting Relient K that I didn't even realize that I was actually conversing with one of the members of Relient K. I was so consumed by the minor details that I did not see the big picture. I did eventually apologize, but I think that this reaffirmed my thought that people in bands need friendships just as much as they desire fans.

So if you are in a band, let's be friends.

Background: Before one of my residents was successfully discharged, she had shown me a bunch of her poems and even wrote a poem before she left. We both connected due to our love for writing. This poem or whatever you want to call it is a compilation of what I learned from my experience, so the 'she' is not me, but rather what I learned from those that went through these tragic experiences.


She wants to dance as the sun sets
Playfully build castles sand.
Have a parent tell her that she is loved
As she reaches for their hand.
Someday someone will understand that...

She wants to silence the noise
Calm the fears
Rid herself of the unwanted shame
Heal the scars
That she once thought was okay to let bleed
For so many years

She wants to find her voice.
To have others hear her melody.
To be told that her song is beautiful
Despite her tragic story
That has caused her so many tears

She says she wants to give up
But she secretly wants you to hope
Because she has not the strength left
To barely manage to cope

So you can help her carry her burden
When she feels like she's merely on her own
While you can't take away the horrific past
It is enough to her to know that
You believe in her.
You are here.

And she is indeed not alone.

Healing Wounds: Part Three

I believe that the ability to dream again can signify the process of healing. And to me, the opposite of dreaming is apathy.

Sometimes the answers that we don't want to hear are the ones that we need to hear.

And I can't pretend that the answer does not re-open the wounds that I had spent the past few months getting over.

Like bitterness and resentment, desensitization can seem to be the quickest fix to the process or possibility of future pain. It is as though desensitization is the point in which we build a tolerance to pain. We have become apathetically numb.

Show me hope.

I wanted her to tell me words of progress. Even just a glimmer of hope was all that I needed.

But all that I could hear was darkness. These girls that I had cared so much about seeing succeed had given up.

And it breaks my heart.

I can imagine that this is what God feels like when we choose paths that we know in our head will hurt us, but in our heart we still choose apathy. I wanted them to know that we can choose to not have the past dictate our future. That the past abuse and tragedies did not have to be an end for them.

It is kind of like the part in a movie when you know something bad is going to happen so you close your eyes because you not bear to fateful result. As I heard the stories of these girls that I counseled continuing to regress, I winced from the devastation that I felt.

The irony of running from pain is that we often find ourselves in situations that can cause us more pain. But even when we become desensitized, more drastic painful situations remind us that we are human. The deep wounds will eventually catch up with us.

Rather than running, I think that it is healthier to accept the pain. As counselors, we are trained to help those that we work with feel and process through the pain. And just as I want these girls to process through the pain, I acknowledge that it is painful for me to see failure.

Sometimes we need to give up apathy and choose to acknowledge the pain in order to dream again so that we can continue healing.

Love Thy Neighbor

"In seven days, God created the world. And in seven seconds, I shattered mine"-Seven Pounds

I don't know which visual is more devastating: the process or the aftermath of destruction.

As soon as the words "we need to call 911" frantically escaped from my mouth, a firetruck had arrived. The night sky accented the intensity of the monsterous fire. While the many firefighters diligently attempted to bring the fire to its demise, the fire still fought with a vengence. I began to cough as the level of smoke increased showing the fires' resistance to possible extinction. A combination of the smoke and the fire made it look like a tiny nuclear bomb going off. I had never seen anything like it.

I placed my head on the pillow after I believed that the fire was put out, but I could not help but feel slightly guilty that while I was about to return to dreamland, a family had just lost their home and could have lost their lives.

Gone.

The entire top story of the house was completely destroyed while the glass of the windows in the first story was shattered displaying the destruction of the first floor. As I passed the house on my way to work, I saw the family and neighbors somberly pick up the damaged pieces and place them in areas to be discarded. It was one of the saddest pictures that I have ever seen.

I was given a hug by these neighbors that I had never met after I had openly expressed my desire to help them out during this time of tragedy. The daughter was still covered in black stains from the fire. She still seemed calm even despite the shock of losing her clothes, computer, and not to mention her entire room. She smiled as she told me that her mom saved her prom and graduation dress for her and that they had just dugged out her prom earrings. Her friends were right be her side to support her.

I write this puzzled because although the destruction from the fire was deeply grave, I still could sense joy from this family when I talked with them. They lost nearly everything, yet they still had smiles on their faces. The daughter had every valid reason to not attend school today, yet she still went on with the day.

And I think to myself: would I respond with the same joy if that had happened to me?

Procrastination at Its Finest

The difference between Undergrad and Masters: More writing. Lots more.

I want to put for my Educational Philosophy Paper: "Education rocks." And then just be done with my paper. Maybe if I copy and paste that until it reaches six pages, I will get full credit :)

I'm trying my hardest to not burn out.

Today marks a year since I graduated. I debated sneaking into the ceremony to see my multiple friends graduate. They are probably still calling off the names as I write this.

Part of me realizes that it is time to move on from Judson. I visited Judson at least 10 plus times this year. I think that is partially why I did not go today. The more I visit Judson, the more I wish to go back. It isn't the healthiest thing when I am still adjusting to good old Rockford. Regardless, there will always be a place in my heart for Judson even if I was only there for two years.

It is difficult to find community outside of college. Regardless, I feel as though I have made the transition.

I'm in need of some inspiration. I could use some more creativity since I find that the more intense school becomes, the less creative I am as a writer.

Probably because my mind is overworked.

Novelty Versus Longevity

People have often told me that they feel like they have known me for year when in reality, we had just met an hour prior to that statement. I guess I have played the stranger role enough times that fulfilling the journey of a stranger to the destination of friendship is now second nature to me.

I will never forget what my former roommate in my host home during my time in Mexico City told me. It is forever engrained in my mind and motivates me to take this journey as often as I possibly can. She said that one should learn to appreciate the process of getting to know people because through each human made in the image of God, you can see different traits of God in them.

It is as though you are putting together the pieces of a puzzle with each person you get to know. Will we ever be able to fully see Him? Not until we reach heaven. He is to complicated and beyond our wildest dreams to fully grasp and understand in this lifetime.

I frequently find myself in situations where I am the 'new person.'

The concept of novelty will always have its pros and cons.

Novelty.

It is like taking a cd and listening to it for the first time. But listening to it just once does not give you a chance to get to know its character on a deeper level (unless the album is blantantly lacking in character and originality). Each play should allow us to discover something new about the album that we had not seen before.

We can become starstruck by the concept of novelty. Afterall, who does not like something new that catches our eye? It consumes our attention and sparks our curiosity. But if we aren't careful, we will constantly be searching for something new rather than building depth in potential friendships and relationships.

And what is new will always only last for a season before it becomes familiar.

As one that has constantly moved in her youth, I believe that one of the worst feelings is to finally recognize that your sense of novelty has worn off and not passed the test of true friendship. It is the point when you see that one in which you trusted move on to the next thing that has caught their eyes.

And you were old news.

I always try to avoid this outcome. I think this is what tends to partially motivate my passion for learning. If I learn more, I know more; thus, I have more to contribute in the friendship.

But the true gift is the one that passes through the road of novelty through to a genuine appreciation and depth in the friendship.

This is what makes the process of getting to know people worthwhile.

My apologies to my maybe four readers for my lack of blogging :) Tomorrow should be a legit blog after a week of almost crazy fulltime subbing and Masters.

Until then, you should check out a free download of this entire album just released today by the superb band Scattered trees.

http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fscatteredtrees.bandcamp.com%2F&h=5d19f

Cabin Fever

I will greet summer with open arms.

As a former cabin counselor, I would say that I try to master the art of having fun. Besides asking my campers what they wanted to know about God, I always asked them if they were having fun. I truly believe you have to be slightly random, creative, and quirky (along with a hardcore passion for God) in order to be a cabin counselor.

Who else stands on the benches of picnic tables and does chants or raps in unison during meal times?

Lately I have been feeling restless. Perhaps tied down by the constraints of the demands of education. I have a little less than a month to go until I can fully embrace freedom.

I yearn for forward motion.
Crazy random adventures.
Memories.
Visiting Camp.
Nature.
Outdoor worship.
Smores.
Parks.
Beaches.
And
Laughter.

Healing Wounds: Part Two

He said that if he could go back and have God take the terminal cancer away, he wouldn't because he would rather keep the lessons that the cancer taught him than live the rest of his life with a bitter heart.

This is what my pastor said of a man that had recently passed away.

Healing is a beautiful thing.

We long for restoration of the heart.
For reconnection of the joy that has been lost.

It really is a crossroad:
To choose either the road to healing
Or to harden our hearts in the midst of pain.

At this crossroad, it seems easier to choose to harden our hearts.
We percieve it to be the safer path.

Bitterness and Resentment serve to slowly eat away at the soul.
To build up walls.
Whether it be in the midst of avoidance or consumption,
They are a broken record that constantly remind us of the broken condition of our heart.

That
Something
Is
Wrong.

Until today, I had always viewed bitterness and resentment as something negative to be harbored.

I still do.

But.

I do not think that these two things can be an end in itself.

It can be.

But.

If we choose to see these two things as warning signs rather than comforts in times of brokenness, they can push us to the understanding that...

We need His healing.

It is so difficult
To give up bitterness and resentment.
To admit that we are weak.
To let Him inside the cracks of our hearts that are so heavily guarded by these shields.

But when we do...

Healing is a painful, yet beautiful thing.

"I hear you say 'My love is over, its underneath, its inside, its in between the times you doubt me, when you can't feel, the times when you've questioned 'is this for real?' The times you've broken, the times that you mend, the times you hate me and the times that you bend...these times you're healing and when your heart breaks...I'll never forsake you, my love never ends'"

--Tenth Avenue North

Rest for the Weary

I probably won't have time to write tomorrow, so I figured that I would write now.

Constantly juggling different portions of my life, it has come to the point that my life should be considered a balancing act.

I am not discouraged, but I would consider myself to be very weak right now. I have no room to be discouraged when I am finally excelling in both my education and occupation. While this winter was rough transitioning from counselor to teaching and establishing my reputation at my former high school, I have now officially climbed to the top of the subbing list. Thus, it is pretty much guaranteed that I work every day of the week.

It was definately due to God's grace and Him teaching me through the painful experiences that he had me undergo in my former job as a counselor. His wisdom is abundant.

I'm the type of person that likes to push myself beyond my limits. I believe that there is a good lesson of reliance on God when you are put into situations where you must persevere.

Perhaps I have pushed myself too far beyond my limits.

I forget the importance of rest and rejuvenation.
I forget that he can teach us so much we are still.
Even When we recognize the true purpose of sabbath.
Even in His creation, he set aside time to rest.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest"
--Matthew 11:28

Healing Wounds

"Feel my arm. Is it cold?" she told me with a grin on her face. Her arm was frigid. I had asked her why in the world it was so cold. She responded that running cold water on her arm was her coping skill in order to not cut when she was agitated. I metaphorically slapped myself in the face for not attending to her anxiety sooner. Even though I was not charting on her, I should have realized that something had happened that day to trigger those intense emotions.

It was a bittersweet moment because although we celebrated her victory over the temptation of self-injury, it was the first time that I had visually seen her scars.

I can sense pain more so than happiness in others. I guess the use of the word 'sense' should be clarified.

My empathy and intuiton work together to recognize the emotions of others. It is a double edged sword, really. It is a gift in the sense that it gives me insight into others, but a curse in that it is difficult to control.

And that I don't like feeling pain.

One of the greatest reliefs that I learned as a counselor is that I am not solely responsible for the healing of the heart. I believe that too often people place such a high expectation on us to solve everyone's problems (which to a certain degree they should place at least some expectation).

Believing solely in that high expectation would not only give one an extreme ego-trip, but also cause them to disregard a key component in counseling.

Self-denial.

The art of counseling is not about us, our problems, or our pride in recognition and success.

It is about vulnerability, guidance, and God's wisdom in the process of change. We counselors are the instruments, and He uses us as he pleases. I may be able to sense the scars of the heart in another person, but I cannot solve or change that person. I cannot pry open their past and force them to open up.

When I saw the scars on her arms, I immediately thought of the wounds of the heart. Our past scars that still impact us today.

There must be a will to change in the heart. There must be a longing and acceptance in regards to the process of healing.

And the only one that changes hearts is the Creator of hearts.

You Would Have Thought I Was Cool In High School

They might think that I am a student when I walk into the room, but they somehow learn to like and respect me as a substitute teacher eventually regardless if I look young.

When I was once a young child with very little vocabulary, I used to go up to random strangers and ask, "I carry you?" This should translate to adult-speak as, "Will you carry me?" I was quite the social child. So social that I do believe that it is the reason that I got lost in Disney World once.

When I look at my years 12 to 18, I find a bit of a disconnect.

And it wasn't just because of the cliche 'turmoil' years of adolescence (though I do not discount the hardships of adolescence).

This very same child that went up to random strangers had become afraid to approach people after moving so many times in her life. Needless to say, I was more of an outcast than part of the accepted group in High School.

Let's take risks.

Adventures
Relationships
Opportunities

It was as though a light switch had turned on when I reached college.

I had embraced my inner child (minus the asking people to carry me part) and knew that life was partially about not being afraid to take risks. I sought to bring my dreams and hopes into reality.

And now, in turn, I teach high schoolers to do the same.

I'll just let them think that I was cool in high school :)

To Write Love On Her Arms

My eyes grew weary as the clock was about to strike 5 a.m. I had no idea why I had signed up to work all three shifts as a Mental Health Counselor.

No one had communicated to me the reason as to why I had a one-on-one in which I had to watch one person nearly the entire night. This meant that I would virtually not be able to take my eyes off of them for the entire suite and the person's safety. It was then that I realized that if you stare at something long enough late at night, your eyes start to become blurry.

I did not understand why I was looking after her until the end of my shift when I found out that her former roommate had passed away. My heart suddenly felt compassion.

As a new Mental Health Counselor in training, I never knew her, but her story impacted the entire facility when I began work during that week.

People always joke about situations that are a matter or 'life or death.' When I found out that a girl from a different placement who attended our therapeutic day school had committed suicide that day, I knew my job was a matter of life or death.

And I was going to do everything in mine and His power to help these girls to choose life.

Prayer.

After working the adolescent girls from backgrounds of abuse, self-injury, addiction, suicide risk for six months, I came to realize that the greatest weapon of power is prayer.

While I am a firm believer of what TWLOHA stands for as far as showing love, the people working at the forefront of these issues need prayer more than anything so that they can have the strength and wisdom fulfill this call to love.

"The vision is better endings. The vision is the restoration of broken families and broken relationships. The vision is people finding a life, finding freedom, finding love. The vision is graduation, a Super Bowl, a wedding, a child, a sunrise. The vision is people becoming incredible parents, people breaking cycles, making change."
--To Write Love On Her Arms

Not to Us

I once heard an individual pray that the people on the stage leading worship would become invisible that night so that all they could see was His glory.

I could not see the band because of default. Normally my eyes and focus is on the band when I go to a concert. God had not created me as a tall individual so I could hardly see Hillsong United as I was located center stage in the fourth row.

It didn't matter.

My soul ached for worship.
My heart longed for a revival.
This is where I belonged.

And this is where I will one day spend eternity.

I felt His love pour upon me.
Touching the deepest waters of my soul.
I heard His children with harmony and melody
Proclaim His Holy name.

I heard Him say,
"Only Me"
Just look upon Me.

Nothing else matters.

"No weeping, no hurt or pain
No suffering You hold me now
You hold me now
No darkness, no sick or lame
No hiding You hold me now,
You hold me now"
--Hillsong United

Alter Call

Have you ever encountered something so beautiful that it made tears unexpectedly flow down your face?

I heard a stream of sounds more beautiful than any song that my ears have ever tuned into yesterday.

I've always been on the fence in regards to altar calls. Sometimes I underestimate the fact that altar calls can be life changing. They should be the start of passionately humble, grace-filled journey with the one and only Creator. They are supposed to 'alter' your life and clothe you into a completely new person.

I became startled when I suddenly heard voices respond to the altar call. When a leader calls a body of people to respond to His will of being in a relationship with Him, I always expect those that come to believe at that moment to repeat the words silently in their hearts.

I suddenly found my eyes no longer dry when I heard people verbally accept His love without shame. As they repeated the leader's words, I understood that I was a part of something greater that night.

It was the moment of lives being altered. Each voice proclaiming their new found faith with confidence. Such a sweet sound is this. A relationship that was separated by sin now renewed by repentance and the belief in His all powerful grace.

And these beautiful voices that I heard last night showed me that...

This is something I could live for.