Messy Mom

Over the past few weeks and months, the evolution of my hair has dramatically changed. Gone are the days of using my wand and straightener, and gone are the days of a pretty fishtail braid on days I’m working. In their replacement is a messy, and I mean not the kinda cute messy that you see the girls in college wearing with their big sweaters, but the tangled, ratty, “is that old dried baby spit up?” in the middle of that messy bun hairstyle.

I’ll be honest with you, my messy bun bothers me some days. Maybe that makes me shallow, but hear me out. In 90% of pictures with Willa, my hair is in a messy bun. I look at myself in pictures with my face bare of makeup, wet messy bun, because my hair was immediately thrown up into a bun after a hurried shower, bags under my eyes, because God has blessed me with a 5 month old that STILL has no concept of sleeping more than 5 hours through the night consistently, dried milk stains, old spit up covering my clothes, and think to myself wow. Wow-she is struggling. Wow-she is adjusting to a whole new life. Wow-she is envious of those moms who get a full 8-12 hours of sleep at night. Oh how I could go on. 

So you see, my messy bun seems an outward portrayal of the battle I am fighting as a new mom. Y’all, I love my daughter. She is, and will forever be the greatest thing I have ever created, and I’ve never known a love so fierce and deep. But the days are hard, and the nights are harder. Breastfeeding is hard. Being a full-time employee, in a demanding physical environment with little to no time to pump, is hard. Going to work after 4-5 hours of sleep is hard. Accepting that your braids have been replaced for a messy bun is hard. Yet somehow through it all, it’s still worth it. I wouldn’t change it. Well not all of it, but if someone could convince Willa to sleep through the night, I wouldn’t be mad about it.

My messy bun reflects a lot about the changes in my life, but it’s also on some days a reminder of growth. Life changes, and I’m forced to adapt, to either grow and go with it or sit down and quit.

My hair is thrown up in a bun, because I am up/down/turning around/jumping/clapping/running that baby in my jogging stroller/swinging/scream singing baby shark/force feeding green beans/reading every book in the nursery/chalking the sidewalk/changing diaper after diaper/swimming in a kiddie pool/running errands with my 5 month old. My shirts have milk stains and my pants almost always have some form of baby food or spit up. My Madewell purse has been replaced with a diaper bag just as full and messy as my hair. But y’all, my baby is growing. She is healthy. She is learning to do everything but sleep. She is saying mama when she’s scared, tired, or upset. She’s giggling when I scream sing baby shark. She is playing with her puppies. She’s loving reading time. Everything is going in her mouth as she explores the world around her. She LOVES people. 

A few years ago whenever I moved into our rent house, we had a large beautiful tree in the front yard. To make a long story short, the city cut down our tree. Ryan and I, well mainly Ryan, planted a red maple tree in the front yard. It was tiny, and still is. But we have come to love this tiny, but mighty tree. Last week whenever I was on my way home from a run, Ryan met me in the front yard. He wanted to capture a picture of Willa by the tree in front of the house that we bought from our landlord earlier this year. He wanted to keep the picture to watch her grow and see how the tree grew too. He inadvertently caught me in the picture too. At first I hated it. My messy bun just stood out to me. I said to him how I hate that my bun just feels like an outward portrayal of the chaotic life I’m living these days. As he always, so kindly says, he reminded me to be gentle with myself. That I am a new(ish) mother. That I’m placing my baby’s needs above that of my hair, makeup, sleep, or sanity. That being a mom is a beautiful, yes messy, but beautiful thing. 

This picture to me, will be one I hold onto forever. I will look back on it and see how our baby and tree grow. But more importantly, I will look on it and see how God has grown me too. All through a messy bun. 

Achilles Heel

I have been a resident of Galveston, Texas for over a year now. This has been such a year of growth, forcing me to grow in ways I never thought possible. In so many ways I have felt like an Israelite wandering around in the desert, waiting for the promise land (graduation obviously). Now, I can honestly say that I am thriving in my desert environment, which is only natural seeing as I'm about to leave. I've learned a lot about nursing, I've finally made friends who I can call on, I am a youth group leader at my new church, I'm still mentoring, and I am applying for jobs that will soon take me from my "home" in Galveston. Through it all, God has sustained me. He has challenged me, molded me, and made me stronger. You never know how weak you are until you are tested. Thankfully, my God is so faithful and has never left my side.

Tonight though I wanted to take the time to blog on something that has been on my heart lately, something that has popped up several times signaling me to sit down, and write out my thoughts.

"In the event of crisis, how many people could you rely on?" 1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 7-8, 9 or more.

This is a question that I have been asked with almost every single job application that I have filled out. At first I was puzzled, because why does an employer need to know how many people I consider in my close circle? As I sat on the question, I applied it to my life. "Katelyn, if you got caught up at work how many people could you call to go let Charlotte out of her kennel that she's been in for 16 hours." (assuming they live in the same town).

9 or more. That has been my answer, because my God has surrounded me with family and friends who care for me in that way. As I select the answer, I am always touched and feel so grateful that I consider so many people so near and dear to my heart. Also so glad I have friends and family who take care of my difficult, spotted, diva dog.

But then, there's the opposite. What about the people who say 0?

This became a reality to me early in my nursing career as I worked at TDCJ. Working with prisoners, means that you get to hear about their stories. You hear how the consequences of their actions have left them with no friends or family, which is actually devastating to me. I remember coming home from a shift, crying myself to sleep because one of my prisoners was going to die, and there was no one to call. Unfortunately, the prison had become his family because his actions had alienated himself from his friends and family who believed he was unforgivable. I like to think this man is alone, but I know he's not. Even in the free world there are individuals who die or are hospitalized alone.

This is my Achilles heel of nursing, because my heart breaks. Whether it is a prisoner locked away from the world, or an elderly woman restrained in a hospital room with no family who cares enough to visit her, it gets me. It makes it hard for me to leave work at work, because I finish a shift and know I have people there for me, waiting to talk to me. I know that if I was in an accident, I would have a hospital room full of family and friends who care for me. So it bothers me when a patient doesn't have the support system. It bothers me to see patients alone, DAY after DAY, fighting an illness or disease that will kill them alone. It bothers me that as a society we have failed our friends, families, and neighbors that we would let them sit in a hospital room alone. Because in my not so professional opinion, you need people to heal. You need loved ones, or a kind stranger of a nursing student to sit at your bedside and comfort you, to allow your body to rest and heal.

So this is my Achilles heel, because I strongly believe everyone needs someone. Nothing brings me to tears more quickly than seeing someone alone in the hospital. So here's my thoughts, take them or leave them. Make a point to visit people in the hospital. You're busy, you have kids, work is stressful, hospitals smell funny, other people will visit. Ya, I've heard them all. But next time your grandma is hospitalized, make the time to see her. Or you better pray a nursing student will sit down and comfort her as she hurts physically and emotionally. Next time your neighbor gets sick, go visit them. Take a casserole, have your kids draw pictures, whatever you can do, make it a priority.

The world would be a better place if we cared a little bit more about the people in it. If we all took the time to visit one person in the hospital a month, I believe healing would be more successful.

Even At My Worst

Nursing school has been one of the most challenging experiences of my life, and I feel as if every nursing student would agree. I believe that it has been so challenging to me in particular, because I have watched myself change over the past year. In some ways I believe nursing school has hardened my heart, and has calloused me.

Before I started nursing school, if I was asked to describe myself I would have said joyful. However, over the past year I have struggled to continue to find my joy and choose to be joyful despite my circumstances. As I look in the mirror every morning, it is almost as if I can see how this year has changed me.

When your patient dies alone without any family member to notify, you become hardened. When you watch as a married couple miscarries for the fifth time, you mourn with them. When a child fights a battle with cancer, and eventually the disease wins, it's hard to find joy.

I say all of this because throughout the past year I have noticeable changes in my character and who I am. I believe I have become much more a realist, and a lot more skeptical. It is harder for me to assume the best and always have an optimistic attitude, because the things I see and learn about on a day-to-day basis make it difficult. So, as a woman who used to take pride in a joyful attitude in all things, imagine the distress of feeling as if everything I was has changed. I wake up and who am I anymore if I struggle to find the same joy that used to come so easily?

I also would venture to say that Satan has used my vulnerability in this way to convince me on some days that if I can't be happy and joyful 24/7, am I even the same good person I was before starting nursing school? Has the profession that I have chosen to pursue changed me so that I no longer have a platform to minister from? Has my resting face gone from a smile to a permanent scowl as my mind at any moment can flashback to the horrors and hardships I see every time I enter a hospital? It has been a constant STRUGGLE.

A few weeks ago I would say everything hit its climax and what is true in my dramatic fashion accumulated into a breakdown. I called my sister in tears just to ask her if she thought I was a good person. I told her that this past year has made me feel like I am living at the worst version of myself. My sister has the kindest and most pure soul of anyone that I have ever met. Her response was beautiful and perfect all at the same time.

*paraphrased* "Katelyn, while you may say blunt things that come as mean sometimes, that doesn't mean you aren't a good person. What I think is evident that Satan is really attacking you, making you to believe that you are some person that you aren't."

My baby sister is wise beyond her years, that's for sure. Since that conversation, I have spent a lot of time in prayer. I have changed in the past year, and I imagine everyone reading this will testify that our circumstances not only mold us into the people we are, but they also can harden us. However, I don't have to view this change as a negative thing. Yes, I have to fight a little harder every day to choose joy and to make sure my face isn't constantly in a scowl, but that doesn't mean that I have become a terrible person that I can't recognize in the mirror.

What has been even more enlightening is the way that God seems to take my vulnerabilities, and make me use them. Even when I feel as if I am at my worst, God still calls me to disciple and in the strangest of ways. This past weekend I had the opportunity to do just that, to use my worst to help two girls. I wasn't planning on going to camp this session because I have two tests tomorrow morning that are 50% of my class grade (no pressure). I needed to study, but the Lord had a different plan for me. A camper camping at camp this weekend mentioned that she really needed me to visit to talk to me. Some of the current staff members made the same plea as well "she really needs you to come visit." So as any former camp counselor that deeply misses their job would do, I loaded up  my car and dog and made the 6-hour trek home. I met with the camper and had the most painful, but encouraging conversation that was so worth the drive. Better yet, I had another conversation with a camper who is having the same struggles as me right now.

Those two conversations alone brought me to tears, because even when I feel at my worst, God still manages to make me feel loved and useful. In my struggle, he provided me the opportunity to minister to two girls who were struggling in a similar fashion. And if that means I fail my tests tomorrow it will be worth it all.

Change isn't always a bad thing. My takeaway for tonight though is the way that God can use us at our "worst". He showed me this weekend to use my hardships and struggles to be honest with two campers. Even at my "worst" he still loves me and uses me to bring about his glory. Each day I get to make the choice, I get to fight for my joy.

It's Worth the Wait

This entry will be a lot different than what I usually take the time to share, but as much as this may be out of my comfort zone, I feel as I need to share what keeps popping up in my life recently.

I've been a camp counselor for five years. Over the course of five summers I have counseled many girls of all ages. I've walked with them, played with them, taught them the Bible, held hands and prayed with them, and so much more. Throughout my years of college, I have found myself in many positions where I have been a counselor or mentor to young girls. Whether it is concerns or hardships, I have been fortunate enough to be someone they trust and come to for advice. Over the past three weeks, I've been approached by old campers, friends, and even some strangers about dating. When it first came up, I laughed. Who am I to give dating advice? But, seeing as a very similar conversation has come up, not once or twice, but multiple times with friends, campers, and strangers alike, I feel as if I should go ahead and share my insight.

Like I said, this is very much out of my comfort zone. I don't have a lot of dating experience, and I am certainly the first to say that I am not perfect in any relationship I have ever been in. (Ask my current boyfriend, he can testify) Yet, what I do know is that dating shouldn't be a game, and there are right and wrong ways to go about it. So here goes nothing.

He is worth waiting for. The man that you will eventually date and marry, is worth waiting for. Throughout college I remember going through what felt like a constant cycle of emotions. Sometimes I wasn't phased by my lack of relationship and was perfectly content to be single, surrounded by friends, and growing in my relationship with God. There were other times where I was down in the dumps, questioning God as to why I was single and alone. Looking back on my four years of college, I wish I could go back and tell my self not to grow discouraged. That those nights I spent crying in my room because I hadn't been on a date in two years, would be well worth the wait.

I didn't date a lot in college. I had one relationship for about three months, and that was it. I did have several guys I was interested in at several different points throughout my time at A&M. Whether these were crushes or periods of time where we were "talking" (whatever that means), I wish I could go back and tell myself to TRUST YOUR GUT.

By this I mean, I knew. I knew with my only relationship, I knew with the guys I would casually text or "talk" to, that these weren't men I was going to end up with. I really have no way of describing it other than it didn't feel right. Yet, instead of simply being content single and alone, I held on to some of these guys for way too long, because at the end of the day it was better to be texting someone than to go to bed knowing the only people you had talked to that day were your mom and roommates. (No offense Pam Pam or friends I've lived with)

I've seen this problem a lot recently. Several girls have come to be asking, or sharing their relationship problems with me. Now my first question for them isn't what does your heart say, but what is your gut telling you? A conversation goes like this. (I'm not making this up people, this is a REAL conversation I had)

Me: "What is your gut saying?"

Friend: "My gut tells me it's not right. That he's not in a good place with the Lord, but I'm too far in. Plus, I think I'd rather stay where I'm at than be alone. I can help him come to know Jesus right?"

This conversation hurt my heart. Why? Because that was me. That was me not four years ago, but even a year and a half ago. So afraid of graduating single and alone that I could justify almost anything that was wrong with a guy. So when I'm approached like this, with questions like these, my heart hurts. I personally feel an obligation to share with these girls that waiting, being single and waiting for a good guy, a guy that you know in your gut is good, is worth it.

Waiting is worth it. I would tell myself over and over, and I will tell every girl that comes to me to wait. To stop dating guys that are wrong, or that you are having to justify, or even convince yourself to like (my best friends and I have done this!!). Just stop and wait. Singleness is not the end of the world. I'm not going to try and paint it as a beautiful picture for you, because it can be so difficult. I believe every young woman wants to be loved and wants to love. I know I did. But I wish I had done a better job about waiting. I wish I hadn't been so eager to not be single that I would jump at any opportunity to crush on a new guy.

I say that because the man I am with now was so worth the wait. The nights you spend single and alone, or going 22 years without a Valentine's Date, or even waiting to go on a first date until college, these times are worth waiting when the right guy comes along.

You'll know in your gut that he is good, because you won't have to convince yourself. He will be a man of God who gives you a glimpse of the love the Father has for you. He'll hold you when you cry about stupid guys who have hurt you or trampled your heart in the past. He'll send flowers to an empty apartment when you are moving six hours away alone. He'll surprise you with Chick-fil-A after you've worked a 12 hour shift. He'd be willing to drive 2.5 hours in the middle of the night, because you were so sick and couldn't get off the couch. He will call you when he says he will, and he'll pray with you every night. He'll be first to say sorry, but will also not be afraid to confront you when you're in the wrong. He'll hold your hand as you walk into church, and will be right there beside you worshiping the God you both love.

Suddenly you'll have a man like this and you'll know that those nights you spent alone, maybe crying and eating chocolate because you hadn't been on a date in two years, those nights were worth it. Because if you ask me, I would do all of the hard, the lonely, and sometimes downright pathetic times of singleness again if I had only known this type of love was coming.

So girls, wait. Stop justifying or making excuses for the man who are dating or have a crush on. Be patient, be prayerful and wait.

2016

2016 was arguably one of the best, but most challenging years of my life. As 2016 came to a close, I was surrounded by my closest friends and family. Welcoming 2017 means welcoming a lot of challenges and stresses, but I know that God is going to guide me through this year just as He did 2016. 

I welcomed 2016 on a rooftop in Honduras, which I believe just set the year apart. Beginning the year in Honduras and running camp in Honduras was such a wonderful experience that I wish I could relive over and over. As the months progressed, I navigated through my last semester at A&M. I took ten hours with my best friend and roommate. For Spring Break we had StayCation in which two of my best friends from out of town came to College Station and we made several fun day trips. Looking back, it was definitely my favorite Spring Break of all my college years. I applied to four nursing schools, and got accepted to each of them. I was left to decide if I would further my education in Tennessee or in Galveston, and obviously I chose the latter. I watched my little sister get her Aggie Ring, as a sophomore I might add! I watched several of my friends get married or engaged which was lots of fun. I spent a lot of time laughing and fishing with my family, the greatest blessing of all. I graduated from Texas A&M University, Cum Laude. Whoop! I took the best vacation with my closest friends to Destin right after graduation, which is a trip I will never forget. I got a new vehicle, and put lots of miles driving to Little Rock, TN, College Station, Galveston and home. I spent my final summer working at Camp Deer Run as the Head Women's Counselor. After the summer I moved to Galveston, which is one of the hardest things I've ever done. I was diagnosed with chronic tonsillitis and I survived nearly 4 months before my surgery! I had surgery, and I would not recommend anyone over the age of 20 getting their tonsils or adenoids out unless it is an absolute necessity, because ouch! 

Above all, one of my greatest blessings during 2016 was that I began dating a guy that I had always considered a good friend. On New Year's Day we celebrated our six month anniversary as I was confined to a bed with an ice pack on my throat because of my surgery and as he left to go to Honduras. I'm very thankful for Ryan and for how he has encouraged me throughout the difficult transition to nursing school. 

2017 is going to be a challenging year as I finish nursing school. This year, though challenging, is full of exciting things as well. I'll graduate from nursing school, and get my first big girl job, I'll be Katelyn Gambrel-RN, which is so exciting. I am excited to see how God uses my 12 months in Galveston for his glory. I'll get to watch my best friend marry the boy I grew up with, which is something I am definitely looking forward to. 

Through it all, my hope for the year is to remember that Jesus is my joy. I spent the last few months of my year distressed and unhappy. So it is my hope to make the most of this year in Galveston. God is going to do great things this year, and I pray he blesses us all. 

A Little Life Update

As I begin to wrap up my last five weeks of my first semester of nursing school, I figured I was overdue for a blog post. Though I should be studying for my test tomorrow, this rainy weather, a cup of vanilla coffee, and my sleeping pup have convinced me to write instead.

Life in Galveston has improved significantly. Just a few updates: I love my bible study. There are twelve girls of all different health disciplines. It has been such an encouragement to gather with them weekly for good fellowship, study and prayer. I have also found a church family, which I am growing to love. 

Though I am commuting to church, it is so worth it to me. Throughout this process of looking for a church home, I have found the importance of welcoming strangers/visitors. To all of the people at Clear Lake Church of Christ who went and still go out of your way-thank you. You have no idea how good it feels to visit a church, and then two weeks later return to find people looking for you by name! How intentional is that?! I have been so touched by their kindness. 

I love my "group" of nursing friends. Though we don't do much outside of class and study, they have been such a support to me. Nursing school can be hard, especially when your program crams it all into four semesters. Thankfully you find friends to lean on. Friends to vent frustrations to, eat lunch on the floor in between lectures, and friends that encourage you to keep pushing on. Not to mention, we get to compare clinical stories. I've got some great ones people, like GREAT stories! That's what happens when your clinical rotations are with prisoners.

Speaking of clinicals, I truly love clinicals. I don't look forward to getting up early in the morning, but honestly who does? I spent the past four weeks on a transitional care unit (rehab unit). These types of unit are far and few between, though if I had to bet most hospitals would be taking strides to incorporate such units to their facilities. I LOVE LOVE LOVE this unit. I love the pressure to work as a team with multiple health professionals as we made plans of actions for our patients' best care. My patients are so kind, and encouraging. I know that most people don't think of prisoners that way, but I truly have enjoyed working with them. They are so patient with me as I am learning to assess, and are always eager to be my test rats. I couldn't have asked for a better clinical placement. Additionally, my four weeks in transitional care led to a friendship with a nurse.  For some history, this nurse has not always been the most accepting of nursing students. I was determined to break down her walls, and I spent a lot of time in prayer about it. What do you know? In four weeks we became good friends. My clinical instructor was amazed at the bond we formed. This nurse challenged me to grow. She pushed me, and made me think. She made me research and plan the next steps for our patients. She will never see this, but I will always look back at my first semester of nursing school and think fondly of her. 

I am also so thankful to have grandparents who come and stay with me. Living alone can be quite lonely. Thankfully, I have wonderful grandparents who set time aside to come stay with me.

NOW- to the hard parts.

I don't want to give mixed signals. Everything has not been great every single moment. I think if I had to choose what has been the most difficult challenge of my first semester of nursing school, it would be battling my health. After three cases of strep throat, I was diagnosed with chronic tonsillitis in the beginning of October. However, I am unable to have surgery until December 20. Otherwise I would have to withdraw from school. It may seem silly to you, but having a sore throat every day stinks. Not being able to breathe when my tonsils become inflamed, or even eat because they hurt so bad- now that's a challenge. I've been living on pedialyte, because when it's hard to eat or swallow, you tend to get dehydrated quickly too.  I will be so glad to have my tonsils out, but I am not looking forward to spending my break recuperating. Thankfully I have family and friends who are willing to take care of me. 

Other than my rotten tonsils, life is great. My dog is still....well she's a puppy. But she is a great companion. We are still working on simple commands; turns out she is just as stubborn as me. The good thing is that she likes to run. So we run ALOT, well unless my tonsils are inflamed. 

God is good good to me. Lately, I have been reading through the OT. Just today I reread the story of Ruth. I have always loved this story, but today it touched me in a new way. In some ways I have felt like Naomi. I have tried to push people away during this chapter of my life, but thankfully I have many "Ruths" who have not left me. They have traveled this road with me. They have not left me, and they know who they are. I am also so grateful to have a God who goes before me, and who is with me every single moment of the day. As I tell my friends in nursing school, I may fail a test, a lab, or flunk out (not really-don't panic people I'm making good grades), but I know that at the end of the day I'm still going to Heaven. Remember- Jesus is ALWAYS king, and God is always with you.

Life in Galveston

I have officially been a resident of Galveston, Texas for over a month now. Let me be the first to say that this move has taken a toll on me in a lot of ways, some good and some bad. As I loaded up my jeep with my belongings and my puppy, I cried as I drove away from my family, my home, my friends, and my security. 

I love Galveston. I love the salty air, running on the seawall, and the overall island atmosphere. What I have struggled with, and I'm not going to sugarcoat it for you, is finding a community.

Leaving Aggies for Christ, my best friends, and my Deer Run family was bound to be difficult. However, I have felt grief in Galveston as I have coped with this loss. Yes, these individuals are only a phone call away, but it is so so so different. I went from living with my three best friends to living alone (sorry Charlotte you don't count). Suddenly I'm not having to buy chocolate milk or extra toilet paper, my left overs stay in the refrigerator, the house is always clean and quiet, and I'm learning how to cook for one. That my friends takes some serious adjusting. 

Thankfully my grandparents came down for a little over two weeks to help me acclimate to the island. Coming home wasn't as difficult knowing that they would be there to ask about my day. Let me be honest, it is sad coming home and not having someone to ask about your day. My grandparents took care of me during the first week of school when I got extremely sick with a bad case of strep throat; they stocked my pantry with groceries; and helped me attend church.

The church here is very different than what I left at A&M. Imagine 300 individuals your age in AFC alone then dropping down to a congregation of 70 people, most over the age of 60. It is an adjustment. Truthfully, I'm still looking for a sense of community. I'm attending a different church with a friend I've made in class. Her invitation to attend church and small group with her was such an answered prayer, because I have been hurting emotionally and spiritually.

I've expressed to my boyfriend (yes that's new!) that I feel like I've lost my joy since moving to Galveston. He was very quick to point out that I haven't lost my joy, but I haven't been finding opportunities to serve and go out of my way to love the people around me. Man is he smart! It's so true. Whether I was at Deer Run or at A&M, I was constantly involved with service opportunities, or ministering to those around me. For some reason, as I moved to Galveston I stopped looking for those opportunities. 

So after a semi-breakdown (not even nursing related) I prayed that God would guide me as I looked for ways to get involved on the island I now call home. Our God is faithful. In just one week I have become a patient volunteer to sit with patients whom don't have family members, I have become QPR certified (to help recognize suicidal individuals), I have become a volunteer at a student-run clinic for individuals who can't afford health care, and have joined a pediatric nursing club. God has provided, and suddenly I don't feel so empty. I am also very excited to try out this new church and small group with my new friend in nursing school.

Through it all, I have still been diligent in my quiet time, because I know God is faithful. I think moving to the island though I expected God to just drop these things in my lap, to make friends knock on my door, or whatever without me putting in an ounce of work. Lazily I waited, and lost my joy and confidence because I hadn't made best friends, I hadn't become so involved with the church or placed membership, and I haven't learned to cook for one,

Yet, this verse has carried me through. "He who calls you is faithful." 1 Thessalonians 5:24

God is faithful. I know that he has brought me to this island and has a purpose for me. While I had hoped to have some big revelation to share, or tell you that I had made new best friends and that this transition had been the easiest yet, it hasn't been that way. Regardless, I am still walking with God. I am *more actively* seeking opportunities to further the kingdom. I am more excited to see how my 16 months in Galveston continues to grow me and mold me. Because in one month I have learned a lot about myself.

Now for nursing school! I love UTMB's nursing school! Is it challenging and fast-paced? Absolutely. Do I spend hours a day studying? Yes.  Do I STILL HATE my burnt orange scrubs? Absolutely. But overall I love nursing school. I am still making friends and getting to know my classmates, but I know I made the right choice in choosing UTMB. I have loved learning how to insert catheters and take vitals. I love being challenged to think critically. What I love most though is that I am entering a profession where I will experience true joy every day as I die to myself. 

In 2 weeks I begin my clinical rotations. I have been assigned to the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, otherwise known as the prisoner hospital for the prisoners at Huntsville. I am so excited to begin this opportunity! I can't think of a better place to begin my patient contact than with individuals who are desperately in need of care and Jesus. I look forward to sharing how God continues to use my time here in Galveston to grow me. Please keep me in your prayers as I keep seeking the Lord and to keep fighting relentlessly for my passion. 

Satan Can't Touch This

I have done a terrible job keeping my blog up to date this summer. I realized just this week that we are halfway done with the summer. It never ceases to amaze me just how quickly time flies out in the piney woods.

Coming back to Camp Deer Run for a 5th summer was a no brainer for me. There is nowhere else I would rather be the summer before I begin nursing school than in these holy woods. God's presence is so easily felt here, and I knew without doubt that God had called me back for a special purpose.

As I have said many times before, every summer is unique. As a 5th year staff member, I am "incredibly old in Deer Run years." The majority of the staff is 18-19 years old, so at a whopping 22 years old and as a college graduate, I am definitely the grandma. However, I love my grandma status, and will gladly keep it if it means more time out here.

This summer has been very different, but very special to me. As the Head Women's Counselor for the second year in a row, I had a better idea of what to expect in my position than I did going in last year. With that said, I also came in with a stronger game plan so that I could be very intentional about spending time with God, so I wouldn't "burn out." As a mentor to 32 college-age women, you will face many challenges. This season of life is one filled with many difficulties, hurts, and insecurities. Before the summer began though, I had decided my goal was to be very specific and strategic in my prayers for my women's staff, and in my own prayer life too.

Prayer, in my opinion, is our strongest, and most potent weapon against Satan. Even in this Christ-centered place that I love dearly, I can recognize that we, at Camp Deer Run, are not free from Satan's attacks. In my years on staff I have seen how sneaky the Devil can be by attacking morale, by using comparison, magnifying insecurities, and mixing up strife among the staff. We are not immune to Satan's attacks, and I have made it a personal mission of mine to call Satan out when I suspect he is up to no good.

GOD IS SO GOOD! I will boast gladly because God has been answering prayers in some very unique ways that I would like to share with you now.

One evening I spent some time praying with one of my staff that Satan could no longer use the outside world to ruin her day, her mood, or her attitude. After a few days of receiving bad news during her hour off, we prayed that God would protect her, and not let her receive bad news so that she could focus full-heartedly on the mission at hand. (For those of you who don't know, we only get one hour off a day to check our phones and make contact with the outside world. We enforce this among the staff by keeping cell phones locked in cell jail) The next morning I woke to a frantic staff. Cell jail was locked and they were technology thirsty, and ready to check their phones during their hour off. Thinking that all I had to do was use my key to unlock cell jail, I made my way into the canteen. To my surprise, my key didn't work. Strange, right? Because my key had worked every day prior to this moment. Naturally, I used my radio to call Cason, but his key DID NOT work either. Getting more weird right? At that moment I looked over at my women's staff member, and when our eyes met we couldn't help but think of the prayer we had prayed only a day before. A prayer of protection from the outside world. We ended up calling Drayton, our maintenance man, and he tried EVERY SINGLE key in camp. None of them worked.

NOT A SINGLE KEY WOULD UNLOCK CELL JAIL. We finally ended up cutting the lock off with bolt cutters.

Some would just call this coincidence, or a strange circumstance. Some of my staff think I was out to get them by preventing them from getting their phones for their hour off. To me though, it was an answered prayer. An awesome way that God made himself known to me and to that women's staff member.

Even after she got her phone from cell jail, she didn't receive a single text bearing bad news for the rest of the week. I hope you can feel my excitement here, because our God is alive! Our God answers prayers, even in the form of a locked cell jail.

This is just one example of how God had been answering my prayers this summer. I have so many more that I would love to share. I have been brought to tears and have been chilled with the way prayers are being answered this summer.

Satan can't touch this. I have actually been humming the song in my head most days, because it is a helpful reminder to be to be on guard against the Enemy. In John it speaks of how the Enemy has come to steal, kill, and destroy. Well let me tell you, I'm done with letting the Enemy win. So I'm praying more, praying fervently, and God is answering. I've been sharing this theme with my women's staff too. I tell my 32 girls almost daily that the condition of our knees *figuratively* is a representation of our hearts and our lives. When girls come to be overwhelmed with problems that I can see may be a result of Satan filling their head with lies, I send them to the woods.

It's become a thing actually. Staff left and right are going into the woods to pray and to be with God. It has been an incredible thing to watch, and extremely humbling to me. As a "fixer" I have learned to relinquish the power to God, the ultimate fixer, and I love how he is healing my women's staff. I have loved watching them come back from the woods overwhelmed with God's faithfulness and eager to tell me how he has given them peace or answered a specific prayer.

Satan has tried to interfere with our mission this summer. He has used death, insecurities, comparison, drama, and many other targeted sins to try and distract us from the real mission: letting campers see the light of Christ. So as I tell my women's staff, and as I leave you now, remember Satan Can't Touch This. God has already won the war. Be on guard, and recognize when the Enemy is craftily attacking.

Iron Sharpens Iron

I've been dreading this post for a while now, because I knew it would be hard to write. However, I've never been one to hide my emotions. Over the past four years my blog has served as a creative outlet for me to reflect on the lessons the Lord has taught me, in hopes that my readers will also gain something too. I'm far from perfect, but I truly believe the Lord has been molding me closer to his image throughout my four years at A&M. Through mentors, friendships, opportunities, and many shortcomings I have graduated a stronger woman, and more solid in my faith I believe. Now I still struggle with sin, and I always will. However, I know that I am committed to living a life for the Lord and serving his people.

Yesterday I left College Station, and I cried. It wasn't one of those joyful cries where I was happy to leave, grateful for all of the memories. No, it was one of those ugly cries where your heart hurts for what you're leaving behind. Listening to songs like We Bleed Maroon and My Wish I cried for a good hour as I kept looking back in the rearview mirror.

Yesterday I left a part of my heart in that town where I have grown so much. I truly am joyful and grateful for the ways the Lord has molded me over the past four years, but that didn't make the goodbyes any easier. The saddest part for me was knowing that a majority of the people I love will be staying there for some more time, while I will move to Galveston to begin nursing school. Don't get me wrong, I am so excited about a season of life where I will have to trust in God full-heartedly for everything. For the first time I'm moving without a friend (shoutout to Lucie for being the friend I've done everything with for years), to a city where I know less than five people. I'm taking my dog and a shotgun, but I don't know if those count haha. Also, I'm sad that I'll have to cook for one and won't have to buy chocolate milk or toilet paper for any of my roommates.

I've been extremely fortunate to have the best friends in the world over the past four years. I remember praying for months before I graduated high school that the Lord would provide me with a close circle of friends who would know me, but would more importantly support and encourage me in my faith. WOW. How faithful is our God when I look at the friends I have been blessed with?! Throughout my years in college some have already moved on and graduated. Some married, and some started jobs or grad school. I remember the days they left, feeling sad and heart-broken. Yet, as yesterday was my turn to leave, I felt the heartache all over again.

Man, I sound like a crazy girlfriend writing about a breakup. I know we aren't breaking up, and we sure are not going to stop being friends. Technology will ensure that I know; but I will miss waking up every day curious if I could expect to play nertz that night at the kitchen table, or if I would lie on the couch and watch the office or parks and rec in the afternoon with my roomies.

To my friends reading this, you know who you are. Thank you. Thank you for making me a better person, for putting up with my stubbornness, for eating all of the meals I made and the groceries I bought, for giving me years of memories to look back on, but most importantly for loving me for me. Thank you taking care of me when I was sick or having an episode, and for cheering me on in every milestone event (especially that rainy half-marathon). Thank you for sharing a love for Chuy's, Layne's, and Chick-fil-a. Thank you for helping me laugh through the bad days, but for also knowing when I needed to simply cry and take a hot bath. You each took care of me in such a special way that has bettered me, and has helped me become a better friend.

Above all, thank you for being Jesus to me. Thank you for helping me build my faith, serve others, and for molding me to be more Christ-like. I now know what Proverbs 27:17 means about sharpening others. I also thank you for figuratively living out John 15:13.

This isn't a goodbye, thank goodness! Graduating is an awesome feeling, but most definitely bitter-sweet. Please remember I have a 2-bedroom apartment for just me and my dog in Galveston....so I expect visitors.

I want to end saying that I truly am excited to move to Galveston. The Lord has been so faithful to me, and I fully expect him to continue providing in a new city. As always, I will do my best to keep my blog current, but cut me some slack once nursing school starts!

Suffering

Pain is inevitable in this world, and that's due to the broken nature of the world we live in. Over the past few months I come to really know that the Devil uses sin, death, and disease to war against the souls of God's children. It's heartbreaking yes, but I also take joy in knowing that the suffering we face in the world we live is only a reminder that this world is not our home.Heaven CAN and WILL sustain me, my friends, and my family through the hardships." Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance." James 1:2-3"Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you." 1 Peter 4:12"I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us." Romans 8:18The glory of Heaven that awaits us is unimaginable compared to the present suffering that we face in this world. Whether it is terminal cancer, a broken relationship, or failing a college class, Heaven IS better. Suffering has always been a "foreign" concept to me. As I read through the New Testament about the suffering that New Christians faced and the persecution they endured for their faith, I always found it hard to think of my inconvenient/upsetting life circumstances as suffering. When it comes to the hardships you face at school, or when your new car breaks down, would you consider those circumstances suffering? Hardly not.However, while my circumstances may not compare to the sufferings of others around me, that doesn't mean these circumstances don't inflict pain or that they are easy to deal with. I've come to learn that my problems, my friends' problems, or the problems of the girl's I counsel cannot be compared. What hurts me, may not hurt them, or vice-versa. There is commonality between my suffering and the suffering around me though, and that is that the Devil will use that suffering to drive a wedge between us and God. So I count it joy when I face hardships, or suffering, when I face bad grades, or when my new car sits in the shop for 3.5 weeks, because when things go wrong it keeps me uncomfortable. Now I am not writing to tell you I don't get upset, or hurt, or take things easily. Let's be honest, I get frustrated frequently! But there are days, much like today, where I take joy in knowing that the bad things are a reminder that this world is not my home. I look forward with great joy to the Kingdom of Heaven, where there will be no tears, no fear of the unknown future of the challenges nursing school holds, or bad grades. The thought of Heaven sustains me. 

When You Have Jesus You Have Everything

Several weeks ago at church we watched a video about a woman, Molly Bruno, who is a real life prayer warrior. This woman's dedication to prayer and to Jesus was inspiring to me. Of all the things she said in the short video, one quote has stayed with me.

"When you have Jesus, you have everything."

Over the past few weeks this phrase has really resonated with me. In less than two months I will be a former graduate of Texas A&M. Just yesterday I confirmed my acceptance to University of Texas Medical Branch to pursue a degree in nursing. My life is changing, but I have no fear, because I have Jesus.

I sent a series of pictures to my family, to reveal to them which school I had chosen to attend. Obviously I tried to make it very clear I would be spending my 17 months in nursing school on the beach :)

In my spiritual walk, I seem to go through seasons. Almost like clock-work, do I walk through my valleys and peak on my mountain tops. Camp is always that mountain top for me, and then after the summer I seem to drift away. Come Christmas Break, I wake up ashamed of how far I have slipped. I mean honestly people, I've looked up and realized I hadn't touched my Bible (outside of church) in a week or two. Convicted, I return to my Father, thankful that his hands are always open for me.

"Come near to God, and he will come near to you." James 4:8

As I came back from Honduras, I was on a spiritual high. Determined to come near to God, I began to set aside time every morning or evening to read, pray, and meditate on the word of God. After watching the short video of Molly Bruno's life, I was inspired to lead a life more like her. I want to believe with my entire heart that when I have Jesus, I have everything. So I made a commitment to myself, that I would be more intentional in my walk with Jesus.

I don't know why I am always surprised to see how my life changes or how easier it seems to go when I am spending quality time with Jesus everyday. I've realized over the past few months, that I can't fake my faith. By this I mean, I am tired of living a life of a Christian, when I am not putting in the work behind closed doors.

"I know your works. You have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead. Wake up, strengthen what remains..." Revelation 3:1

Confession: I am guilty of having a reputation of being alive, but being dead on the inside.

However, I believe that I have woken up. The Holy Spirit stirred something in my heart while I was in Honduras, and reawakened my need for Jesus.  Yesterday I happened to have a conversation with a dear friend and mentor. She mentioned to me how she tends to feel a lot like Israel. As you read through the Old Testament you see seasons in their walk too. There were many times where Israel was on fire for God, and then seasons where they strayed away. As she pointed this out to me, I realized that I had more in common with Israel than I had ever noticed before.

So tonight I am thankful. I am thankful that through every season of life, and no matter how far I stray away from God, that he still waits for me to return. I believe Molly Bruno said it best, when I have Jesus, I have all I could ever need.

Honduras 2016

Two weeks ago I began my last semester at Texas A&M, whoop! It was on this last fist day of my first bachelor's degree (such a crazy way to think about it) that I realized all of my training, all of my blood, sweat and tears over the past four years in this town have led me to this semester. This semester is a pivotal one in my life. I will find out if I am accepted to nursing school, and with that news I will move to a new city without any of my friends. For the first time in my life I will live alone, and I will begin a new chapter by myself.  People keep asking me if I am scared about this huge change, but truthfully I am not. I have been praying that the Lord will open and close the doors that will lead me closest to Him. This whole time period has been a true test of patience and trust in the Lord. As many of you know, I spent a part of my Christmas Break in Honduras. The Lord's faithfulness never ceases to amaze me, because what would you know, he used my time in Honduras to teach me more about trusting in Him.

On December 30, 2015, I flew with two very good friend to Honduras. For a few days I embraced the Honduran culture as my friends and I made preparations for camp in Honduras which would begin when the rest of our team arrived. I've been on multiple mission trips, but this one in particular blew them all out of the water. I am thankful for my many experiences spanning two countries, but there was something very different when we began working with Mission Upreach. Maybe it was due to the fact that the missionaries were practically family to me since I am very good friends with their daughter, or maybe it was because we were doing camp in Honduras. Or perhaps it was the fact that my team was made up of my very best friends who I have spent every summer since I have graduated high school serving alongside in the piney woods. Whatever "it" was, it acted as a catalyst for a spiritual epiphany in my life. Even as I stepped off the plane on the very first day, I could feel the difference about the trip. Beyond the usual excitement, I felt a huge wave of peace, as if everything in my life had played out for me to be there at that very moment.

Our trip was wonderful, mostly because of the people. Don't get me wrong I love the country, the culture, and the Chokis (chocolate chip cookies), but the people are what bring it all to life. Counseling a cabin on 9 girls with one of my best friends serving as my translator was a growing experience. I've said it before and I'll say it again, love isn't limited to language. With a Spanish dictionary in hand, I spoke in poorly chopped sentences, often misspeaking. In fact, I accidentally I told my girls that Jesus was a woman, so needless to say Spanish is hard for me. 

Obviously I relied on my dictionary to communicate.

Where I lacked the ability to communicate with my girls in words, I focused on nonverbal communication. I hugged more, played more bang snap clap, and simply showed Christ through smiles and laughter. Suddenly I was free to be my goofy self, because I had no way of explaining my behavior. I was free to almost win a game of neucom, play with water balloons, and sock wrestle without having to justify myself. With Laura, my translator, by my side we sought to teach the girls about the hope they have in Jesus Christ. I was blown away by their trust in God. Their ability to put all faith in God, even when their circumstances were so heartbreaking, was encouraging to me. It certainly made me rethink my own trust in God. How could I look into the eyes of an 11-year old who wasn't sure where her next meal would come from, and preach about trust, when she was so sure that God would always provide? It was convicting, that's for sure. Through my campers I saw Christ. Through their patience with my Spanish and with me, I saw Jesus. I saw Jesus in their ability to simply experience God through the smallest of activities. I saw Jesus in their prayers of thankfulness for the food placed in front of them. I am and will forever be eternally grateful for the way I saw Christ through my girls.

Despite their face, I know they loved us. 

As part of our camp routine, there is always a designated time for the counselors to go and spend 30 minutes in the Word or in prayer. During this time, I found myself going out to a tent where I was able to take in the whole view of the mountains and beauty around me. I found myself praying that God would transform me to be more like my girls, so that I could know and experience the same trust they had in God. I also found myself praying frequently that more doors would be opened so that I could one day return to Honduras. These 30 minutes each day were so rejuvenating. Simply being in the Word of God, and in the beautiful countryside, gave me peace to recognize that even as I left Honduras, my father would still provide for me. I only have to trust in Him.

My time in Honduras will be cherished forever. I am personally grateful for modern technology, so that I have countless pictures and videos to remember my trip by. I am thankful that airplanes fly both ways, and that there is hope of a trip looming in the future. In short, I am most thankful that my girls taught me so much about trusting God in a time of my life where I am having to practice extreme trust. I pray the Lord will open the doors to a nursing school where I can glorify him, even if that means I'm six hours away from home. Just as my girls in Honduras are able to trust in God, I am confident that our Lord will provide for me during this next season of life.

From Morning to Evening

"It is good to praise the Lord and make music to your name, O Most High, proclaiming your love in the morning and your faithfulness at night" Psalm 92:1-2

This scripture has resonated with me recently. It has been written on my hands, my heart and my soul. Every morning of the past 10 weeks I have woken and have praised God for his love. It is God's love that comforts me, and gives me hope of eternal life. As I lay down for bed every night, I am reminded of the Lord's faithfulness. It is all due to his faithfulness that I have made it this far in life. Through the valleys of failed microbiology tests, to the mountain tops of friends who pray for you, I am reminded that every day I walk through life because of God.

Life could not be better.

Every day I go to school, making steps towards a career in nursing. I've started the application process for several nursing schools spanning two states, and I eagerly anticipate what my life as a nurse will look like. I pray for my teachers, my schooling, my future career, and my patients, because I am so eager to serve the Lord through a nursing career. Before I get ahead of myself, I need to graduate from A&M first.

I praise God for the home I am living in. With three wonderful roommates, and two of the most godly landlords, I am so thankful for the safe haven my home has become. There is nothing more relaxing then returning home after a long day of school and work and coming home to women who love Jesus and are excited to share their days with one another. I am thankful for the Bible Study that my landlords started and for quickly opening up their home to a number of college students each week to challenge us and to spend some time in prayer.

I am overjoyed that my job is watching a 20 month old baby boy. Through dirty diapers and many bananas, I am privileged to watch him grow up. I am thankful for the way his family has taken me in, allowing me to grow in my life experiences.

Aggies for Christ has become a spiritual refuge. In the past 8 weeks I have grown in my faith, and I praise God that he led a new college minister to AFC. I am thankful for time in the word with AFC, and for evenings at church where we eat cereal and talk about Jesus.

Blue Bell also has a way of making life sweet, quite literally too.

So like I said, life could not be better. Senior year is supposed to be stressful, scary, and uncertain. However, I am reminded daily of the ways that God is working in my life. So I can't help but praise the Lord for his love and his faithfulness.

Brother Bear

For 9 weeks now I have had a radio clipped to my backpack. I answer to the name Brother Bear, and I love it. For 9 weeks I have answered to many different radio calls.

"What's your 20?"

"Brother Bear the honey is here."

"Brother Bear we need ______ (fill in the blank with anything and everything)."

"Brother Bear do you have time to wash my jeans for Outcamping?"

What I love the most about my radio calls is the person on the other end. The boys, or should I say men, that call me have truly become my brothers. I have spent nine weeks with six men of God. Our friendships have grown as we have learned to work together. Our friendships are based on a foundation of a common love for God. We have spent countless hours together in prayer both early in the morning and late into the evening. I have become desensitized to bodily functions such as farting and poop, because as the lone girl in a wolf pack I learned early on to accept it. I have laughed more with these boys as we all have learned to navigate new leadership roles this summer.

Have I mentioned that these men of God spend every day loving on children and leading groups of 40 of them towards Christ? It isn't easy being a leader for children, but I would argue that it is even more difficult to lead your peers. My brothers aren't perfect, and neither am I. We have all stumbled as we do our best to navigate a path that isn't always easy. Some nights I am brought to tears with my frustrations, but through it all we have each other.

I know how my brothers love their hamburgers packed. I know when to expect a bad mood based on the day's circumstances. I know when to speak and when to listen. I know what they like on their pizza. Heads up the next one is gross: I even have come to know what their farts smell like.

So I've established, I know these boys like my brothers. Working with them this summer has been a major blessing, and most definitely a highlight of my summer.

This summer my title is the Head Women's Counselor. I have "counseled" 30 Proverbs 31 women this summer. I have been their friend, their mentor, and their advocate. I plead their cases and feelings to boys who sometimes just don't understand emotions. I pray for them and with them daily. I take care of their needs, and try my best to make their job easier. I help them with difficult campers, deal with homesickness, and a number of other little things.  I get to have fun with them, bring them necessities at Outcamping, and build relationships with them. Sometimes I even get to kill snakes with my best friend. 

"Was this in the job description?" 

This is a question I laugh about frequently. For a number of reasons I'll find myself in a particular situation wondering how I could have even prepared for whatever I am doing. Through it all, I find myself praising God that I am able to work at camp. Whether I am washing loads upon loads of laundry, or cleaning the kitchen every night, praise God that I am able to humbly serve Him through it all.

This summer has been an incredible one for me. I have been humbled and I have seen so much growth in my spiritual walk. I have been convicted this summer more than any other summer. Living in the world is a difficult task for a Christian, and I haven't been doing the best job I could be doing.

Saving souls should be a natural part of our lives, and I have never taken that with such seriousness as I have this summer. This summer one of our themes was to build up the body towards Heaven not Hell. Just in the past two weeks alone, we had 24 baptisms. In one day we had 18! While numbers are not relevant, I found myself in tears. Children are coming to the Lord, and are putting Him on in baptism. The joy of coming to Christ was contagious. Tears rolled down my face as I watched many children make the best decision of their life. 

This is what working at Camp Deer Run is all about. Serving one another in love and sharing the good news. I contribute most of my spiritual growth to Camp Deer Run, and to this day I will be forever grateful that I have had the opportunity to continue this mission. Since 2002, camp has been a part of my life. While I don't know what the future holds, I look forward to finding ways to always give back to a little church camp in the middle of the piney woods of East Texas. 

A Single Touch

I'm a very stubborn person, and I have been for as long as I can remember. As a young child my stubbornness was wearisome on my parents, I mean how could it not be when your child is very set in their ways and absolutely WILL NOT be joining the family to eat out, but would rather wait in the car.

See, I was stubborn, am stubborn, and will probably always be stubborn. Throughout my college years, I have learned that being stubborn isn't all that bad. I'm independent, strong-willed, and these are just two traits that I can derive from my stubbornness. However, at other times I believe my stubbornness can lead me to be closed-minded.

14 weeks ago I entered a small classroom at A&M to learn about the New Testament. To say I was skeptical would be an understatement. I had my guard up; I was on high alert for the "false teachings" I felt sure I would incur in such a class.

This "guard" hindered me at first. I quickly centered in on the differences in belief between me and my professor who wasn't a Christian. Holding tight to my conservative beliefs, I left class discouraged every time as I watched my classmates 'switch to the other side.' But, no, not me. I was going to hold unswervingly to my faith. I wouldn't believe what I was being taught, but would simply learn the material well enough to get the grade I needed in the course.

Then an interesting thing happened. As we began the unit over the Gospels, I felt as my mind began to open up to this idea that I could let go to my tight reigns on what I believed to be right and wrong, and instead take this class as an opportunity to better understand my own beliefs. I wasn't obligated to believe what my professor was teaching, but I began to be spurred on to read, study, and examine the Scriptures in a new light.

I learned that it was ok for me to disagree with a professor who holds about 2 doctorates, 4 masters, and however many bachelor degrees (ok, so maybe I exaggerated--but he spent a good 20 years of his life furthering his education). I learned that he didn't have to be right, and that his teachings weren't the law. Instead, I began to gain knowledge.

I began to grow because for the first time in my life, I had to defend what I believed. I had to write out what I believed, why I thought it so, and find the Scripture to back it up. Wow. The journey was one that wasn't always easy. I encountered questions that had been on my heart, and to be honest, I am not always the best person to understand Scripture in its correct historical context. This journey, is one that I hope to continue on for the rest of my life. I am eager to always learn, and critically examine God's word. My spiritual life has been strengthened because of it. Scripture is so much more to me now. Rather than viewing a chapter of the Bible and seeing the big picture, I have learned to break down each verse and examine what the writer was trying to convey.

As many of you know, I am returning to Camp Deer Run this summer. The theme is to Live like Jesus. As part of our contract, we agreed to read through the Gospels before starting work. How appropriate? It was truly as if God has been preparing me for a summer of examining the life of Jesus as I studied New Testament at A&M this semester. As I have been reading through the book of Matthew, one story that I have ready many times before stood out to me in a whole new light. For this reason, I want to share it with you.

In Matthew 8 verses 1-4, Jesus heals a man with leprosy. Before I had taken this class at A&M, I always read through these stories of miraculous healing, thinking that the take-home was the Jesus is the ultimate healer. I wasn't wrong, but recently I've learned to see so much more. What stuck out to me in this particular story, was that after the man with leprosy asks Jesus "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean," Jesus touches him.

Think about it. Jesus touches the man with leprosy.

I have always skipped right over this fact without thinking of how touching this man may have changed his life. Back in a historical time where leprosy was almost a death-sentence and called for the person inflicted to be outcast, I think it must have been  a very long time since this man had been touched. I think about my day-to-day, and I don't think I go through a day without touch. Whether it is a hug, a hand shake or a high-five, it is all touch. To imagine my life without touch, would be horribly sad to me. This man, already condemned with a disease that would most likely result in his death, probably felt hopeless. His body was failing him, and I'm sure his social support was lacking. So the fact that Jesus reaches out and touches him to heal him--that is incredible. I also can't help but think of the people around Jesus at the time. Can't you just imagine the apostles panicking a little that Jesus would think to touch a man with leprosy. I can almost imagine them biting their tongues, concerned and confused about Jesus was doing.

Anyway, this was just a little something I took from this story. If anything, I hope it opens your eyes to how Scripture can really come to life. My New Testament class has taught me how to make the Scriptures more real, and I am excited for a life full of better understanding.

5 Years Time

Three weeks ago my mother had surgery on her foot. The surgery was planned last minute, after my sister and I had already made Spring Break plans. My mother, being the woman that she is, didn't want to make a big deal and insisted that my sister and I go on with our plans. As it was, my Spring Break plans consisted of a few days getaway with some of my dearest friends to Beaver's Bend State Park in Oklahoma. After some kayaking and many many games of Nerts we all returned home. My mom had her surgery on Tuesday, and then I was able to come and stay with her for the rest of the week and weekend on Thursday afternoon.

2 weeks later it is Easter Weekend and I'm home again. This semester has been unique of all of my semesters at A&M for many reasons. One being I'm taking more hours than I ever have. Another reason is that this particular semester has been filled with weddings and showers bringing me home more than ever before. For this reason alone, I've learned to practice saying "no" and made the decision last semester that I would not be teaching at HYPE this semester. While this was a bitter-sweet decision, I knew that it was best for the kids to have a teacher who could promise stability and that is would significantly decrease my stress load by not trying to rush back to CS every weekend. By saying "no" I also knew that I would be able to enjoy more time with my family. So with weddings and camp retreats alone, I've been coming home much more. Additionally, my family will be making a big trip to A&M in 14 days to come and celebrate as I receive my Aggie Ring. All of these things combined sum up to one thing: family time.

Our family time has come so far. I have always been able to see God's faithfulness in our family, but recently I have been overwhelmed with gratefulness how God has changed my heart and has grown my relationships with my family. For a long time, you see, I didn't particularly like my family. My sister and I fought a lot, and my mom and I even more. Dad has always been a peacemaker trapped in a house of girls, but still I disliked being home. It wasn't until my junior year in high school that God began to do a lot of healing in my heart. I never knew it, but I carried a lot of resentment and hate towards my family. My immediate family and extended family have gone through a lot of suffering due to the world in which we live. Sickness, name it and some one has had it. Death was a familiar friend through middle school and high school as I watched all but 2 of my grandparents and great grandparents pass away. Tensions between family were high at a particular point in the journey as well. I say all of this because I never recognized how much I allowed such circumstances to affect me. I never knew that by watching my dad's mom literally rot away due to liver cancer that my heard would become calloused, especially during the last few months as she chose to end her battle peacefully. I was filled with anger, and resentment towards my family for encouraging her to pass peacefully when I, at the time, thought there was still a fight to be fought. I was furious with my family for a church splitting that occurred when I was only in 5th grade that not only took my best friend away from me, but also led part of my family to leave our church. Bullying came next, and all of these events made me bitter. I was filled with hate and I couldn't trust anyone. So I began to take out my feelings against my family, and it is still one of my biggest regrets to this day. I sacrificed a relationship with my immediate family, because I couldn't deal with the pain.

Thankfully, my family never gave up on me. I have been truly blessed to have a family who never ceases to see that I am given every single opportunity possible to grow as an individual and to grow in my faith.  Early on my parents began sending me to my favorite camp in the world. Camp was a place of healing for me. The only place I could open up my heart to God and allow him to make something beautiful out of the brokenness I felt in my life. Growing up as a pew baby, I knew what faith was supposed to look like, but I never experienced faith or a relationship with Jesus Christ until I was in the piney woods. I saw God everyone, but mostly in my broken staff members who never ceased to love me or model what a relationship with God was supposed to look like. By the time I was 16 I was beyond in love with camp. It was my home. During my sophomore year in high school an opportunity came about so that I was able to travel to Europe for 16 days. My parents gave this gift to me, because that's what they always do. They constantly make sacrifices so that I can have experiences like this one in particular. Going to Europe meant that I had to miss my CDR session, but at the time that was a sacrifice I was willing to make. My relationship with God was truly comical and nonexistent at this point in my life. Sure I was still going to church, but my heart was numb. So I went to Europe for 16 days and I remember that my Bible stayed at the bottom of my suitcase because I couldn't stand the conviction that would come when I opened it.

Coming back from Europe I was still empty, and hardened. I remember visiting at Deer Run where a counselor encouraged me to come and camp. My mom called the camp director, and through divine intervention a spot opened for the next 2-week session that started in 2 days. I remember being frustrated with my mom at first for "making" it happen. How was I expected to camp a session where I knew no one? Luckily, God knew. God knew I needed two weeks without friends to make a friend in him. He knew I needed to heal, from the scars and the pain of loneliness that I had been carrying for years. I was never able to be free, to truly enjoy life as my friends always had. So many times in high school I remember feeling like an outcast, or that I barely made the cut for my friend circles. These feelings plus the lack of relationship with my family made for a combustion of loneliness. Not to mention that I was running from God too. So I camped for two weeks, and at first I hated it. Yet at the end of 12 days I began to feel restored. I had a counselor who took the time to tend to my broken heart. It was at camp too that I learned that my best friend might have cancer (Praise God she didn't) but I remember there was a particular quiet time where I let it all out. I let God have it. I yelled, shared my frustrations, and said everything that I had been holding in. With it all out, I had nothing left to carry. Instead, I had room for God to fill me. Whether my parents can pinpoint it or not, I returned from camp that summer a new woman. I was free; I was redeemed; I was forgiven.

Since this moment in my life God has given me a particular friend to remind me of the pivotal moment where I came to the feet of Jesus broken and afraid, and allowed him to take my heart. This friend lived 4 hours away from me in high school, but we kept in contact through letters. She had no idea how broken I was, but her constant encouragement reminded me how far I had come. Inspired to change, I clung to her.

Our friendship has continued since, and has strengthened in college. We've worked together for three years at Deer Run, and next year we are living together. Her friendship gave me the courage to pursue a relationship with my family again.

5 years later, I've come a long way. My mom is one of my best friends and my dad is still my biggest supporter. God also did a lot of healing with my sister, and she has become so much more than a sister, but a true friend as well. It wasn't an easy road, and it didn't happen over night, but I have relationships with my family. Sorry to say it, but they have to be the best family I could have ever been given.

They never gave up on me. In so many ways I feel as if I was the prodigal son. Yet, they stood waiting patiently for me to come into their arms. They never stopped showing me love, or forgiving me. Today, I am the fruit of their love and support. This Easter Weekend I am overwhelmed with gratefulness. This semester I am thankful that God can take a stubborn soul like mine, and helped me reconnect with my family. So these past few weeks with my family have become my cherished moments. Our family dinners are more meaningful, our long porch talks are priceless, and even competitive card games like Nerts have become my favorite past time. I love my family, and I love that my family loves me. Praise God for family! Praise God for redemption and praise God that the tomb is empty so that I can be forgiven time and time again.

Nothing Stays the Same

Nothing stays the same. We can count on that. Change is inevitable. Good times come and go. Hard times come and linger. We carry memories, hardships, and struggles, yet while we carry it all, our lives are still changing.  Our health will fail us, and chances are some day you will lose everything important to you.

Nothing stays the same… except for Jesus.

Jesus is our constant. Life is uncertain, and sometimes I find beauty in knowing that life doesn’t stay the same. Yet, there are other days where I question what my future will look like. In a year and a half I will graduate from Texas A&M and then what? Will I be accepted into nursing school? If so, where? It always seems to me that as soon as I begin to find myself adjusting, getting the hang of things, or simply becoming comfortable that life changes. Life certainly keeps me on my toes. So where is my comfort, my stability, my certainty? Surely I don’t place my confidence in the things of the world, because nothing is guaranteed! Jesus is my security. Jesus is my security because he is better than all comfort, sorrow, or even victory. By placing my hope in Jesus I’m ok when things change. When the good times come, I rejoice in Jesus. Even as they leave and a season of hardship comes upon me, I still praise God because I am not alone! My life may be changing, but my God is constant.

I see this best in Mark 14 in the anointing of Jesus at Bethany. In Mark’s account he simply states that a woman comes to him, but from the other Gospel’s accounts I am led to believe that the woman is Mary. Jesus is in Bethany sitting at the table of Simon the leper. (Side note: Jesus is at Simon THE LEPER’S house. How cool is it to think Jesus most likely healed Simon and then is lounging at his table? I can’t imagine how grateful Simon must have been.) Anyway, Mary comes to Jesus with an alabaster jar worth what is equivalent to $45,000 today. Mary breaks it. Mary breaks a jar and begins to anoint Jesus and the people at the table become angry. “Why was the ointment wasted in this way?” The people were ANGRY at Mary for breaking such a valuable jar to anoint her king. This story was made real to me last year at the VERGE conference. For the first time I could see the story come to life. I could imagine the people angry with Mary, and I could imagine just how bold Mary must have been. That alabaster jar had to have been Mary’s security. Thinking of its worth alone, it must have been something that Mary had had in the family for years. In case of famine or crisis, I imagine that alabaster jar was Mary’s hope. In case of tragedy, Mary could sell the jar and provide for her family. Her alabaster jar was her security in case of change. Yet, she broke it, and anointed Jesus. Her breaking of the jar was her confirming that her security no longer rested in the things of the world, but that Jesus was her security. When I first heard this story in this light, I was so convicted. I was convicted because Jesus had never been my security.

Nothing stays the same. Friendships change, life continues on, and every day brings its own challenges. Yet, Jesus is our promise. He is our security that while everything is changing, we can hold fast to him and his promise to be faithful. So I hold on. I hold on as I aimlessly make plans to go wherever he leads me. I hold to Jesus because quite frankly I need some stability. I need to be assured that someone is going to walk through this life with me. Jesus is better than my “alabaster jar” of future plans or any security I could find in the world.

So hold on. Hold on when you make a bad grade on a test. Hold on when you have a really crummy day at work and your boss just doesn’t give you a break. Hold on to the uncertain knowing that you have someone who is certain to care for you. Hold on to the good times, but as they come and go trust that they’ll be back again. Hold on to your memories, but let go of your fear of change. Let go of your alabaster jar and take hold of Jesus. Put your hope in Christ, and allow him to provide the security you need.