A Gentle, Quiet Spirit

I'm high-strung.
I'm dangerously passionate.
I'm a whirl-wind.
I'm quick to speak.
I'm a spreading wildfire when injustice is evident.

But today, I'm learning peace. I'm learning quiet. I'm learning strength.
For I've unveiled that I'm not stronger than the meek and mild.
I'm not better by trying to drive down those who threat, mask true identities, and force themselves to the top.
Instead, I'm quick and loud and powerful because that's all I'm capable of doing.
Instead, I'm too weak to be peaceful.
And I don't know how the peaceful do it.
How they stand ground without effort.
How they let it be.
How they hold their tongue.
They are so strong.
And I'm weak.
What people see as strength makes me the weakest person I know.
I can't handle who I am.
I don't have the strength to control these bones and this soul.
But I'm learning. I'm trying to be stronger.
I'm exercising the muscles in my mouth that locks it shut.
I'm unclenching the heart chambers that allow patients to exude.
I'm widening my ears to hear silence in the noise.
I'm enslaving my soul to trust who He is.
It's not a cage, but a freedom.
That's peace.
1Peter3:4

Pounding Nails

She lied. She sinned. Ultimately, she broke hearts. The pain could have been reaped for years if we had let it. I didn't think our friend ship would ever be the same. I found it essentially impossible to put trust in her words after viciously deceptive ones left that same mouth. Part of me would have rather not cared to try at all.

No matter how much I wanted to, forgiveness hardly appeared to be an option.

I was holding fast to a heart with clenched hands, suffocating it. I was what stood in its way of freedom. That breathless heart was mine. It was a captive to my fear of her lies that could resurface if I forgave her. Then I felt a whisper against my soul, what made me so much better than her? What made me the victim?

I thought of my Jesus, whom I claim to love. Putting work, chores, luxuries before Him -- at that I am an expert. I read my Bible and cross it off my to-do list like it's a burden. I find time for Him when He is always waiting expectantly for me to turn to Him, and always wanting one more sweet moment to spend with me. I wonder how many times a day I hurt His heart. I wonder how many times in my 16 years I have put pain in His eyes. I thought of all the times I had little affairs, choosing that song, task, word, or person before Him; just pounding that nail deeper into His hand.

Upon that I realized, finding forgiveness for her may not be so difficult after all.

Where the True Joy Flows From

Have you ever had that feeling of being wrapped in the arms of someone you love; and love and happiness fills up to your heart's rim, and you just want to melt?

Well, I'm 16, so I'm gonna go ahead and say that I haven't. But that is how I feel in Haiti. I was sitting in Heartline's guest house near Port au Prince in a rocking chair last Wednesday, and upon resting my head back I sighed a sigh of contentment. Ironic, isn't it? Comparing love and comfort to brutal Haiti. But that's how you feel when you are where you belong.

I realized how odd my romantic parallel was when I wrote it in my journal that day, so I began to wonder why exactly so I love this place so much, why do I feel the most complete and free in Haiti?

That's when the understanding poured in. Everyone in Haiti (to some extent) was like me, and I like them. We were all here -- coated in dirt, sweat, and stubbly hair -- for the same purpose. We, willing to trade in our comfort at home, had a similar heart and a united purpose: to follow God, at all costs. I find that the people who have given up everything to radically follow Jesus are my favorite kind of people.

Today was my first day back at school since the trip. I dreaded it. The thought of seeing those college students, most of them not Christians --not to mention not pursuing Jesus' call -- brought deep sadness. I wanted my on-fire-willing-to-serve missionary friends back! In America there are so many distractions: TV, Internet, media, consumer purchasing, materialistic spending, worrying about physical appearance, school and work stress -- it is being put before serving God. How do I know? Because I do it! ...And I hate it, but I still do it. It still happens because it's hard to prevent. In Haiti, I'm around many people who are only living their days to serve God through serving others. They don't watch TV, spend money (because they probably don't have much), or frantically try to cover up every physical flaw -- because it just doesn't matter in the light of serving Jesus.

When you really are living on the grace of the Lord, you will feel overwhelming love and you will feel exciting contentment. After all, I am in love with the Man who said, " a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his posessions . . . But seek His kingdom and these things [food, clothes, safety, happiness] will be given to you as well" (Luke 12: 15 & 31).

Letting Go

I was sitting in Mother Terea's Orphanage and Hospital for the Sick and Dying in Haiti a couple days ago, holding a baby boy who came to me wet. The room I was in was dark due to the lack of windows and electricity, and the crying of babies and desperate-to-comfort voices was all the filled the building audibly. As I sat on the bench, wondering what exactly caused this child's clothes to feel moist, I felt love tie a rope around my heart. In the heat, unescapable smells, and dire cries, I realized I wouldn't want to be anywhere else at that moment.

I came to the realization that nothing was more important. Holding that beautiful, skeleton-shaped baby was the most crucial thing I could have been doing. That's when I began thinking about people at home, what would they think? Why aren't there more people going into the nations? What could they choose over wanting to feel this love? Money, American houses, fast cars, security, safety? Those things sounded nice. They sounded comfortable. But with that baby in my arms, I knew that those things equated to nothing because of one simple fact: this is what Jesus did His whole life, letting every worldly thing go and living to love others.

I haven't accomplished that goal. I'm embarrassed by how selfish I am actually. But I pray often that my life will always be transforming to something more like Jesus'. That's why I can confidently tell others I would sing praises if God leads me to living in Haiti one day. It will not always be fun, or easy. I most likely will feel overwhelmed, lonely, amongst many other things -- I know this fully. However, nothing would make my soul sing more to live every moment of every day doing the most important thing in life, counting all else at a loss, and trying to love as Jesus loved.