Twenty.

I’m not a child anymore. Tomorrow I am twenty-one.

The beginning of so many things, and the end of many.

Bittersweet. Profound.

I am not a child anymore, yet how much I have yet to learn.

Twenty.

I went on a journey of discovering myself: my gifts, my love, my humanity, my calling. I did not set out to do so, but journeys always reveal what we least expect.

I finished my first year of college, a dream that had died in my heart the year before. I let go of perfection and learned how to fail.

I traveled across the ocean, encountered a world where pain is prevalent and spiritual darkness oppresses the masses. Alone in my room, I would write. I wrote the stories of the people I met. I cried for them. I cried. I understood.

I came back home, struggled to understand the emotions and the pain that made no sense. I became part of a world where waking up became the part of the day I dreaded the most. I fought against my calling.

I traveled across my country. I fell in love with history. I experienced my first panic attack. I spent time with my family, knowing how soon I would be moving away from them.

I spent 10 months engaged and distant to my best friend and the love of my life. I spent 10 months planning a wedding, before the pandemic forced an early marriage. I was scared, but it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

I’ve spent two months of Twenty falling in love daily with Joseph. Learning how to be his wife. Delighting in a new life so foreign to anything I’ve ever experienced. Looking forward to the 70+ years we will have together.

And Jesus? Oh Jesus, my Love and King, how you have orchestrated every second of this last year. How you have held me when no one else could know or understand but You. You crossed the miles before and beside and behind me, protecting me from the world, from the Enemy, from myself. You taught me through pain, and You taught me through patience. You taught me how to keep going.

You were there at our last minute wedding.

You were there when I packed my bags and drove to another state with the man You chose for me. You’ve been here with me, when I spend hours alone in a strange city.

And how You have met me. I delight to be with You.

You are the reason, Father, for all that I will ever be, or ever become.

Twenty-one is Yours. I give it to You, for You know. You understand. You see far beyond what I can see. I want to stay close to You in twenty-one, for every year gets harder, more intense, more wonderful. Your grace is enough to keep my prideful, hard heart soft and humble before You.

Twenty-one is Yours.

{In the spirit of new seasons and a new life, this is my last post on A Life He Loves Blog. All further posts will be published on my new blog, Musings of A Military Wife} I'll see you there! <3

Experiencing Bulgaria: Missionary Musing

 I was thrown into the wreckage of a thousand stories of abandonment, despair, poverty. Yet I was also thrown directly into the path of hope: redemption raining down upon a country wrought with stale Communism and spiritual darkness. I saw pain here; yet I also saw more aliveness in Christ, more fervency in spirit, more pouring out of lives for ministry than most people will ever encounter. The story does not end with despair; rather, it ends with great, great hope and anticipation. There are solutions; they are being implemented. Children are finding families, young girls are finding homes. And I? I found a land that has imprinted itself upon my heart. I found a people I deeply deeply love. I found grace in the eyes of Jesus. I found spiritual reawakening in my heart. Bulgaria is coming alive, one lesson, one word, one touch at a time. The work Changing a Generation is doing in Bulgaria has real, eternal implications reaching far beyond this generation. The children being rescued through these programs will teach their children the same, and their children’s children’s children will hear the Gospel. One generation can change the entire country. Bulgaria, you have left permanent footsteps upon my heart. I will never be the same. We will forever continue to fight for you.

Sliver of Light

Seasons of the moon

A sliver of light,

A fragment of white,

Tomorrow the moon will change

From the silhouette of tonight:

The moon is reflecting again and again,

The seasons of the heart.

The night of the beginning is the tiniest glimmer; the season of the diminutive: perhaps there are things we are only brave enough to say once.

The next night, the moon is a rectangle; it is far away and I can barely discern the soft slopes and the knife tips. It is sensible and concrete, yet forever limited. And the season of the heart is stable and safe, yet caged and finite in an infinite sky. Perhaps there are things that cost us the best of who we are in exchange for a semblance of security.

Half full now. Never complete, lost, unseen. The half moon is neither dreaded nor anticipated: it just is. As we just are. And we never want to just be. Perhaps there are things that halfness can teach us more than wholeness. Yet who desires to be incomplete?

The moon is growing now, gaining ground, its impact becoming manifest in the darkest sky it has ever seen. The moon cannot see its own light; it is appalled by the darkness. Perhaps there are times we must believe we have an influence, even when we do not perceive it.

The moon is full tonight, a radiant stream of brilliant light calmly serving the cold earth below it. It is complete. Full. Having run its course, it has achieved what we can only ever hope to gain. Pure, white light, blinded from the pain, glowing and passionate and calm and peaceful, a glorious paradox gracing the forever eternity of blackness.

Continue on then, weary soul, for you will grow, you will gain ground, you will become all that you were created to be.

You were full, every moment. The delusion of light made you believe you were a sliver, yet you were full, you were complete, you were finished, even then. Perhaps the light of honesty, of truth, perhaps that is what burns away the illusion of less than, of unworthy, of incomplete.

The seasons of the moon: perhaps it teaches us that even in the beginning, we are full. We just have to be exposed to more of the light.

And you, Jesus, You are the light. Reflect more of your light, that the greatest light might be displayed upon us.

A sliver of light,

A fragment of white,

Tomorrow the moon will change

From the silhouette of tonight:

The moon is reflecting again and again,

The seasons of the heart.

The Best Choice

If life is a series of choices that are made, then why don’t we make the best choices?

What if we went about our lives just doing the next best thing for our lives?

The concept of motivation and discipline is one that strives to encompass almost every sort of mindset shift and inspirational ideas. Speeches written to motivate generally contradict each other; some swear planning is key; others promise results if you just get started moving toward your goals.

I have a list of life goals ranging from “learn how to surf” to memorizing different books of the Bible to getting married. Literally, it’s on there.

But lately, I’ve been putting a lot of thought into the small decisions we make everyday. In one motivational speech, a speaker outlined the basis of why we as humans resist goodness in our lives so much. Our brains are programmed to protect us; however, this protection causes us to run from challenges, which are the very things we need to precipitate the best life we can possibly live.

Challenges.

Let’s define “challenge.” For the purpose of this blog post, we will define challenge as an act that is often resisted by human nature. Some challenges are hard (i.e. getting out of bed in the morning) and others are easier (swapping white pasta for whole wheat pasta). What if in the in-between moments, we chose to do the next best thing?

What is the next best thing for my spiritual life? What is the next best thing I need to do to become the most healthy version of myself? What should I implement in the next twenty minutes that will be best for the Kingdom of God? What is the next best thing for my family? Oftentimes the answer comes in the form of a challenge that is very small. For example, the best thing for my family is for me to wash the lunch dishes. It could be done in fifteen minutes. But will I do it?

What is best for my health right now?

I need to do a workout today. It will probably take me just over half an hour, and it will feel so amazing (especially when I am finished). Will I do it?

What is best for my spiritual life?

I need to keep up with my Bible reading, and I need to spend some time talking to Jesus. These are little things.

But if we made every little choice of what to do based on what is best for us, don’t you think it would change our lives? At work, if you find yourself tired and ready for a break, you ask yourself, “what is the best thing for me right now?” And the answer may be to sit down and hustle. The answer may be to get some rest. The answer may be to breathe a quick prayer and get some water.

You know what’s best for your life right now. You know when ice cream is important to eat for your mental health, and you know when ice cream is just going to discourage your success.

The answer changes. We just have to be willing to do whatever we need to in order to be the very best for God, our families, and ourselves. Find your priorities. Learn yourself; what is laziness and what are signs of burnout?

Then make the next best choice.

Your life will never be the same again.

In Which My Body Writes a Complaint Letter

Dear Sara, 
We realize you are a missionary. We dealt with the uncomfortable plane seat, the plane food, and the long periods of sitting. It was a temporary situation, and we tried to do our best. The little bit of time you felt terrible was the stomach’s fault. He was mad when you chose the pasta over the veggies. 

Anyway, we went through the traveling. And for the first twenty minutes, you were doing good. You bought a tomato and we gave you a standing ovation. But within days you started doing strange things and we tried to understand. We even were kind with the jet lag and how do you repay us? Massive quantities of empty calories. You had choices- you do know Bulgarians eat cucumbers and tomatoes, right? But no. Ice cream, chocolate, bread bread bread bread and it was NOT, we repeat, it was NOT whole grain. We expect more from you. Then the "duners"- we know you only thought there were cucumbers but there were also other things in that. The cow tongue was also pushing it. Also the white yogurt with floating and sinking cucumbers and salt? We don’t think so. Drinking water from water fountains was NO BUENO. And the flat bread you gorged yourself on every time you got a chance? No. Another thing- you worked out fully ONE time. The legs are especially angry and want you to know that they purposely lost muscle tone because of your forbidding them exercise. We will kindly acknowledge that you did walk a lot, and you gave the skin more sun than it’s pretty much ever seen before. But we digress. We are pretty disappointed in you and expect great things when you come home. Like, real food with real nutritional value. Like working out. 

We just remembered that you also started averaging a lower amount of sleep than we’re used to. We’ll address that in the next letter but for now we are just trying to get this off our chest and tell you we will fight back harder than we already are if you don’t figure this out. The scale already has a surprise for you. 

Yours always, 

the body 

Here Is The Hope: Bulgaria 2019

I’ve been living in Bulgaria for two weeks.

My purpose in coming here was to write a series of articles. I am writing heart-breaking stories of horror, of nameless depravity, of seemingly endless cycles of poverty and hopelessness. Yet they are also laced with divine redemption. Of supernatural change. Of hope.

One story I wrote was of a girl who at two years old watched her father beat her younger brother to death when he would not stop crying. Now fifteen years old, she is dating a twenty-year-old man, who uses her freely in exchange for his “acceptance” and “love.”

Another sweet girl is fifteen years old. She was sold by a family member to sex traffickers for money. No one knows where she is.

These are just two examples.

One of the sweetest children I have ever met, was hungry, was beaten, was taken to an orphanage. Yet God’s redemption has him placed in a godly foster home, learning and becoming a godly young man who gives and loves with all his heart.

Here is the hope.

Even here, in a joyless nation, with spiritual darkness hovering over its borders, the Lord is at work.

In my heart, He is at work. “Jesus, I feel like we’re in a new place in our relationship.”

I am learning to speak to people, I am learning how to walk in freedom. I am falling in love with reading God’s Words. I am learning grace in a new way. I am finding my place.

This is another one of my randomly rambling posts. I wanted to document what I’ve been learning, to express to whoever reads this what I am seeing.

I’m sure I could sum this all up neatly with some cliché ending, and maybe this is it. 

Or maybe not.

There is more to Jesus than you see, and there is more in your heart that He desires to do. I hope you know that. I hope you let Him scrape off the scabs that have built on your heart, to let Him hold your raw and red heart in His hands. You can trust Him.

That’s all.

He loves you.

A Time To Love

It’s time.

It’s time to tell the world, that I am in love.

It was a casual Sunday when I looked across the church and found a stranger’s eyes staring back at me. 

Something passed between us, undefined, and there it started. 

The stranger, with time, became the  song of my heart, my future, my best friend. 

The methodic phone calls, letters, texts, and distance culminated one night with a diamond and a promise.

How do I contain everything we have been through together in a matter of a few words? 

How can I express the way life has changed since I began to fall in love? 

How do I skip from highlight to highlight without grasping the magnificence of every small and meaningful moment we’ve gone through together? 

Can we measure growing love as we measure temperature? 

Can we gauge friendship as we calculate the chance of rain?

The grand sum of all we are, of all that God has given us strength for and called us to be, we give for glory to Jesus our Savior.

To my sweet fiancé, to the one I cannot wait to pledge the rest of my life to… to the one who has stood beside me through pain and distance and time- I love you. I will spend the rest of my life proving it to be true.