Do I know anyone who can?

I read an article today about teaching, and about how there's always something else to be done- there's never a feeling at the end of a week/month/semester/year of "Man, I did a great job. We did everything we needed to do, and I gave everyone what they needed to succeed." Boy, can I relate to that.  And it came on the tail of a message from one of my students, asking if I could help his older brother (another of my students).

So there's this one thing that's been a continuous burden to me since I returned home from teaching in Malawi.  I know that I did a lot of great things, but I know that there were a lot of gaping holes in my self-designed curriculum and impartation of knowledge.  I also know that since I've come home, I haven't been nearly as involved in the lives of these young friends/family whom I love dearly and helped along their way.

To elaborate, I'd like to tell you a story.

Imagine for a moment, that you're a 17 year old guy, who is a citizen of a little-known African country.  You spent some time growing up in some first world nations, and most of your friends are wealthy.  Many of them are American, but some of them are from the same country as you, or a number of other European, African, or Asian nations.  Your family is well educated, and spent years working hard to ensure that they allowed you the privilege of a great education, knowing how important it is.  As a result, you don't get to see your parents as much as you'd like, but you recognize their sacrifice is for your sake.  You're the oldest of your family, so you feel responsible for your younger siblings.  In fact, you're one of those rare children- wise beyond your years- who is burdened by your duty to your family and friends.  You love deeply, and know that you need to do well in school to ensure you can get into a good college and return that support, as well as fulfil your own dreams.  You've grown up in a world that encourages you to dream big- you can do anything if you work hard enough!  Your English is perfect.  You're at the top of your class.  All of your friends are receiving their acceptance letters to universities, planning to move to other countries to live with family and pursue a college degree, and the future they've been promised.  You apply to some big schools in several countries, and slowly the acceptance letters roll in.  You've even qualified for a few scholarships!  Graduation day comes, and you're awarded top honors in your class.  You know at this point, that the only path forward that will honor your family's sacrifice, that will fulfil your potential, that will be true to who you are, is college in America.  It's your only goal, your only dream.  And then the reality of your financial situation hits you.  You have no family in the states willing to sign affidavits of support, or sponsor student visas, or let you live in their garage for a while.  Your best hope is the help of your friends and teachers who are back in the states, who have moved into a new phase of life already.  You know you can't ask them to pay for your schooling.  You recognize college is expensive, and you recognize you can't ask someone random to support you through this.
What do you do?
Where do you turn?
What happens when your world is crumbling and you're powerless to change it.
You see the time slipping away.
You feel the weight of expectations falling on you.
You can't really remember anymore exactly what you thought would happen, but this isn't it.
What do you do?

This is where I am.  I get emails, I get messages, I get pleas from younger siblings to help their big brother accomplish his dream.
"What if everyone in your church gave like $10, Miss O? Could that at least help him pay for a year of community college?"
"Miss O, couldn't you ask people to help?"
"What can we do, Miss O?"

I've told people for years that I believe in the power of words.  I believe that words can change things.  If you know me, you know I'm a cynic. You know I have a hard time holding up hope when circumstances look dismal. I'm a realist. I tell him I can't help, because my own finances are shambles, and that I don't know who can.

But is that true?  I mean, can I not do something?  Do I really not know ANYONE who would be willing to take a little risk for an amazing kid who definitely deserves this chance?  Do I not know ANYONE who works for a college who could help make things happen?  Do I not know ANYONE who cares?

Well... you tell me.  Do I know someone who can help?

Shaming No

I read this wonderful lady's blog on how it's okay to say no, (she wrote it a year ago, but somehow I stumbled upon it today) and it brought me back to a question I've mulled over for the past 6 years or so.  See, I know it's okay to say no.  I'm actually pretty good at saying no.  I'm even better at telling other people to say no.  But in a Southern society that is really really good at shaming you while smiling and pretending they're concerned, I'm constantly battling to balance the "just say no" and the "make people happy" battles raging within me.

So here's my question for you:  Is it REALLY okay to say no?  And if so, why do I feel so much judgement when I do?

I'm gonna give you a couple scenarios to help explain what I mean.

1. When I first came back from Malawi, I wasn't attending a Sunday School class, because I wasn't ready for that kind of commitment, social event, depth, etc.  But when people asked if I wanted to come to Sunday School with them and I said "No," I was often met with some very confused and offended people.  Even though I tried very hard to say no politely.

2. I agreed to teach a class that I didn't really want to teach, because there was no one else to do it.  Now that I'm attending a different church, and another capable leader has stepped in, I'd like to relinquish those responsibilities and serve at the church I'm attending in ways that suit my personality/gifts better.  I'll admit that I haven't had the chance to sit down and explain this entire situation to everyone involved, but when I mention leaving, the response is all about guilt and shame.

3. I'm invited to a church-related party.  I'd rather have a date night with my boyfriend. If I simply choose the more appealing option, is that okay?

4. I HATE how busy I stay on Sundays.  If I don't attend church on Sunday nights, is that wrong?  Is it okay to want time to myself or with my family or my significant other, instead of having another time of corporate worship?  Is it okay to attend a mid-week Bible Study instead of Sunday night church?

5.  Is it okay to say "No, I don't want to serve in that way" if I AM serving in other needed ways?

6. Is it okay that I don't really have high ambitions for my life?  Okay, this is a little unrelated. But it does involve saying no.  Because people always want to know if I want to move up in my job, take on more responsibilities, become more important, etc.  What if I don't?  What if I really do just want the job that involves answering phones?  Who are you to tell me that's unambitious?  Who are you to tell me I should want more?  Why should I be ashamed of my current lack of work-related ambitions, when I have high ambitions for my relationships, spiritual life, etc?

 Is it okay to say "no" even if it's church? Even if it's good stuff happening?  When presented with two options, is it okay to choose the one that makes ME happy, rather than the one I know I'll be shamed for if I skip?  Do I have to explain these choices?  Is it okay to remain misunderstood?  Is it okay to know people are going to be upset and do nothing about it?  Where are the lines in saying "no"?

I want input on this.  Seriously.  Discuss, please. Give me thoughts and answers.  Argue with me.  Agree with me.  Shame me so I can use you as an example! ;)  Just kidding.

identity

I'm not sure whether to entitle this "words", or "lazy".  I haven't yet filled in the title box. probably when I do, i'll choose something else altogether.  But those are the words that bring me here tonight.
Since I've been home, I've done a lot of reading.  I say "a lot", but really I've managed about 8 books since I've returned.  And they're not anything special.  I'm not reading the classics, and I'm not reading good Christian inspiring literature (as if literature can have a soul and join the ranks of the Redeemed...but that's another rant...)  I've mostly been reading young adult literature.  I stumbled upon another friend recently who loves this genre and it made my day.  I love finding a kindred spirit in my silly quirks. But that's not really what I'm intending to write about either.  Just felt it was worthy of mentioning. Anyway, I read this young adult lit for a variety of reasons- it's mindless, it's unassuming, it's thought-provoking, (yes, mindless AND though-provoking).  I guess what I mean to say is that it allows me to think without forcing me to think.  And we all know I don't like being forced to do anything.
And that brings me to the issue of laziness.
When I read certain ones of these books, I'm reminded of how much I love words.  See, I've found most authors do one of two things, usually.  They create characters that love words, or the create characters that HATE academics.  There's rarely an in-between.  They tend to create a character they understand, and most authors understand what it means to love language.  They've danced with words in moments of intense passion, soaked in them like a luxurious bath after a long day.  And as I read the characters, I realize I'm one of them.  I do this.  I love this.  I LOVE language.  I can totally geek out talking about words, or the history of words, or the origin of words, or the theories behind words.  Some days I want to abandon the head knowledge of them and just experience them, but a lot of days I can really enjoy all the academic stuff behind language.  And yes, I still use words like "stuff."
I'm so self-conscious about my writing.  I think it's because I realize how many people there are who are better than me.  See, for a long time I didn't. In high school, I was pretty much the best.  I realize that sounds arrogant, but it's true.  I wrote well, I had perfect grammar, I never proofed my own work, I always proofed everyone else's.  Then I went to college and everyone was good, and I was just one of many good writers.  In fact, I was a good amongst greats in a lot of cases.  I know I'm good, but I now know there are MANY out there who are MUCH better.  This does not diminish my talent, it simply acknowledges that there are those with more.  That's simply a fact of life.  A fact I enjoy, because it means I get to relish in the words of others.  I get to read this blog and enjoy that I had the privilege of being in class with such a beautiful writer, thinker, and girl.  Or I get to read this blog and find one of those kindred spirits I mentioned before, whom I've hardly met yet feel like I know so well.
But here's the difference- I am incurably lazy.  I say "incurably", though I'm sure it's not true.  I'm sure there's a cure for my sloth.  But I've had professors and teachers and friends and family assure me at some time or another that I've reached only a tad bit of my potential, and that is because of my lack of dedication to the task at hand.  If I had a dollar for every time my piano teacher laughed in frustration (probably to keep from crying) at how much I could accomplish on basically no practice time, I'd have been a rich little girl...and a rich teenager.
If I had a dollar for every knowing look from my favoritest might-as-well-be-british professor, upon realizing that the B level paper I just turned in would've been so much better if I'd begun working more than 48 hours in advance...
If I had a dollar for every time Aly and Amber laughed and/or stressed at my habits...
I should've capitalized on this long ago.
Or perhaps learned from it, at least.
So here's my big confession- here's the big problem I have:
I am so afraid that I'll put in the work and still not be good enough.
I'm terrified that if I finally buckle down and do something I feel is excellent, it will still only be considered good.
I am scared that my assessment of my abilities is larger than reality.
I'm afraid of failing, and being so hurt I never try again.
Is this a pride problem? Probably.
But it's a matter of identity for me.  It's who I am.  If I try hard and fail at something I thought I was capable of, then who am I?  Then what do I do?  How can I trust anything then?
Is this extreme and silly? Somewhat.
Is it still an issue for me, however ? Most definitely.
Is my current job search and (subsequent rejection) bringing me dangerously close to the feelings I just described?  YES.
Am I afraid?  YES.
Am I angry? yes.
Am I bitter? not yet
Am I desperate? soon...
Right now the afraid part wins out though.
What if I'm not good enough?  What if I can't find a job?  What if no one wants me?  What if I find a job and can't do it well?  What if I'm miserable(r)?  What if I never make any money and can't afford a family and never have a stable life again?
What if I just want normalcy, despite the fact that I realize normal will never feel normal again?
And now I don't even know what this post is about.
But because I love the words, I come back here and write it all out for everyone to see.  Because the words have power, even over me.  And when I name something, I know it.  When I name it, I begin to master it.  Then it's less scary.  Less overwhelming.  Less foreign.  When it has a name, I can do with it what I do with other words. Write it, feel it, soak in it, and perhaps begin to understand it. And eventually, use it... for good. 

wait

Well, I haven't blogged in months.
Sometimes emotions are bigger than me.  Sometimes my capacity for handling them is insufficient, and writing, though it is often helpful, sometimes just hurts too much.
So there's your reason why.
A lot has happened, and perhaps I'll talk about all of it some day.  There are things I long to share with someone else, and things I'm still not ready to share.
I am intensely lonely at times.  Which drove me to buy a kitten, against the wishes of my parents.  I really do try to respect them- I realize they're supporting me completely right now in my state of unemployed unsettledness. But I needed someone...something... And along came Eliot.  That's her name today. I've been switching it out every few minutes/hours/days.  Tonight she's El, Ellie, Eliot. We'll see how it lasts.  I suppose ultimately her name, or lack thereof has been a bi-product of my inability to commit.
Another biproduct would the shortage of clothing in my closet.  Followed closely by how often I say "I don't know."
And this conversation:

"What are you up to these days, Allison?"
Nothing
"........Do you have a job yet?"
Nope. Still Searching.
"Oh, well...what do you want to do?
Anything that makes money...
"So, you'll be teaching, then?"
Guess I should've said, 'Anything that makes money and isn't teaching'
".........Oh.  You don't want to teach?"
I'm not certified to teach. (this is my attempt to not say "I HATE TEACHING" because people react poorly to that)
"Well...what about working as an assistant teacher? Or in a private school? Or tutoring? Or some other teaching-related job?"
Well, see...I really don't want to teach...at least not right now.
"Oh, I see.  So...what do you want to do?"
Anything that makes money....
"Well, what skills do you have?"
I'm an English major with 2 years of international experience
"Have you thought about teaching?"
*Explodes*

I attempt to keep the exploding part internal. But one day it's gonna come out.  Well, I guess that's what's currently happening.  Don't get me wrong- I KNOW people want to help.  I KNOW they're just trying to be nice.  I know every time they tell me that it will all be okay and God will provide and something will come up and my random pointless job experience and degree aren't actually useless... I KNOW they mean well.
And I KNOW that God WILL provide for me.
But good heavens, would it hurt us to sometimes just give people a hug and not ask them the same 18 questions every week? Or at least listen to the answers they give??
Again, I do truly realize no one is trying to upset me, or offend me, or be unkind.
I guess you just don't realize how empty words can be sometimes until you're on the receiving end of them in the midst of a tough time.
One dear woman told me she realizes that this is a hard thing to go through and that I'm at a bit of a disadvantage, but she'll be praying for me.
THAT. That is the most helpful thing I've heard since returning from Malawi.

And so I wait.
Patiently or impatiently, I wait.
I cuddle with my kitten, I visit friends, I enjoy family, I eat and get fat...
And wait.
And fill out applications.
And wait.
wait.



Wait on the Lord;
Be of good courage,
And He shall strengthen your heart;
Wait, I say, on the Lord!
Psalm 27:14

Realizations and Reality Checks

"When are you leaving?"  "Do you have a plane ticket yet?" "What are your plans for when you get home?"
If I had 100 kwacha (roughly 25 cents) for every time I've heard (and dreaded answering) these questions in the past few months, I think I would have enough money to buy that ticket I don't yet have.

"Why don't you just write a letter?" Aly keeps asking me.  I'm the expert with words around here.  I write and edit support letters and updates and newsletters for us and for others.  I enjoy it.  Words come easily for me.  I've had to handle the money a lot more around here, and that's something I'm terrible at. Any of several men around campus can testify to that, when I've shown up at their door begging to exchange a little money because I didn't save enough kwacha to do any number of random things that come up here- doctor bills for staff, school fees for their children, trips to the tailor (not necessary, I know...but...a week at home leaves a girl too much time to plan wardrobes!)

So, when it came time to buy that plane ticket home, Aly made a reasonable suggestion I've made to her quite a few times in the past two years.  "Write a letter/email/facebook message home asking people to help out!"  And for some reason, this time, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I kept saying it was because I feel bad because we were so recently asking for money for the December Christmas surprise trip home.  "I forgot."  "I'll do it later."  "Yeah, I'll think about it."  I have no end of excuses. (I know, I know...me? excuses? shocker!)  Today, though, I sat down and thought about writing that letter.  After all, she's right.  I could use a little extra help this time.  My support is way down from what it used to be, and even with a little help from ABC, I don't have enough money to live life here, pay my taxes, and buy a plane ticket.

And then I realized that there's a little more than a slightly shameful lack of humility preventing me from writing this letter.

What would I say?  How would I begin?  There's no way to sum up the past 2 years.  There's no way to explain that my spring break 2 years ago began the most terrifying and wonderful experience of my life.  How do I begin to bring to a close the thrill that 2 years in Africa has been?  How do I say goodbye?

Writing that letter would be the first step.  Writing that letter would be admitting that the "4 months" we insist we have left really is much less than 4 months.  Writing that letter would involve admitting, to myself and to you, that this is ending, and I am totally, completely, 100% clueless about what that means for me.

Well, this is my letter.  This is me telling you I'd appreciate any money (or job offers) that you can give, but that I'd equally appreciate any prayers you can give.  I can temporarily hide from the IRS (though I realize it's not a great idea), but I can't hide from the reality of the change that's ahead of me. It's coming quickly, and I am quite unsure of how to handle it.  Two years ago, two years seemed a long time.  Today, two years is disappearing before my eyes.

There's a link at the top left of the page that tells you how you can donate money.  Or you can message me, or talk to my parents about that.
As for prayer, well...
I think you know how to pray.  :)

So thanks. Thanks for two years. 

Overflow

Sometimes, I get these feelings. These pit-of-my-stomach-sorta-nervous feelings.  My heart feels a little fluttery, and I get this excited little jumpy feeling.  It's weird.  I can't ever tell exactly why.  But it always means something is coming.  I know it sounds silly.  But it's big. It's a big feeling.  I got it when I realized I was coming here.  I got it when I first realized Jesus loved me.  I got it when I was a little girl who didn't understand completely, but knew God was calling her to love His people. I have it today. I don't know what's coming.
I read this blog today. It was a random impulse thing- I saw someone share it on facebook. I don't even know who shared it. I don't know the girl who wrote it.  I know nothing about her. It took every tiny shred of self control I've ever had to not cry through my free class today.
Basically, I realized something.
Now, don't get me wrong. I love Jesus. I really do. But...how often do I say that and...do nothing?  I mean, I know I'm a missionary and all.  I know that should probably mean I'm all fulfilled and happy and following Jesus and reading my Bible and praying and loving orphans and giving all my money away and blah blah blah blah blah.
So...news flash- this life is HARD.  And sometimes I'm unhappy.  And most of the time I'm really selfish.  I want my own room, my own time, my own space, my own life, my own friends, etc.  And seriously, don't give me all this crap about "you are doing such a good thing, dont be so hard on yourself".  Jesus didn't call me to do good things.  Jesus called me to love him with reckless abandon, to sacrifice everything to him, to feed his sheep. To care for the unloved and forgotten, to give everything up. To grab the nearest method of torture (take up your cross) and follow him.  To leave behind friends and family if necessary.  To realize that HE IS EVERYTHING.  To have all the world offers plus Jesus is no better than having Jesus plus nothing.  I mean, seriously.  This stuff is serious!  Jesus' teachings aren't easy all the time.  And how often do I apply those hard ones to my life? Wouldn't I rather just "love my neighbor" in some vague and unspecified way?
I've been so focused on myself.  I don't want to do this, I do want to do this, what do I want when I go home, blah blah blah...  I mean, it's not all about me, ya know?  But it's as if I didn't know that sometimes.  I think I'm rambling... but...well... it's my blog.  And I need to get all these things out.  But I know this:
Something has to change. Something is already changing.  The feeling is there.  I know this is the beginning of something new and big.  He's making me new. He's restoring and refreshing me.  He's calling me to himself, and I can do nothing but respond.  Love like that doesn't allow for anything else.
I don't know what adventure is coming next.  It might be living in Columbus. It might be coming back here.  I don't know.  And I don't know if I'm ready for it.  I am pretty terrified, if I'm honest.   Life is really scary sometimes.  This whole big adventure is usually more than I bargained for.  And sometimes I love that, and sometimes I hate that.  But man...my God is big. So big.  He loves me so much.  I mean, he really really does.  And although I know that in my head, today I feel it. I feel it all over.  I can't explain. I can't make sense of all of it.  I realize the something big coming may not be "good".  But my God is Good.  No matter what.  And though that is somewhat hollow coming from me in a mostly happy time in my life, I trust he's faithful to reveal himself and his will to me. And with the father I read about in the gospels, I pray in faith, "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief." Lord, I surrender; help my selfishness.  Lord, I trust; help my fear.  Lord, I will go; help my unwillingness.  Oh, and He will!  I know he will.  I know he'll finish the incomplete mess I am.  To Him be glory, forever.

Endurance

Well, my Sunday blog schedule is clearly quite flexible.  I'm not updating every week, but here we are a few Sundays later and I'm finally getting back to this.  I wanted to blog last Sunday, but it was a busy day, with us saying goodbye to our sweet roomie, Pam, and then doing lots of house cleaning and separating all our junk again.  We discovered some clothes we'd forgotten existed, so that's always exciting.  Anyway, my reason for desiring to blog last week was to tell you about our Saturday. So I'll do that now.  But first a little of the back story...

Earlier in the year I asked my 11th graders to write a journal (relating to a poem we'd read) that basically said how'd they'd face death, if they knew it was coming tomorrow.  I was surprised to hear their answers.  Overwhelmingly, they expressed sentiments about wanting to do more with their lives, wanting to make a difference, wanting to make their parents proud, and wanting to be remembered.  They felt like their lives hadn't done enough of these things.  Well, as their overambitious English teacher, I couldn't just let that go...

So, I did some research on the concept of Service-Learning, and took on the exciting task of having my students create individual Service Learning Projects for themselves to complete in the following months.  I asked them to come up with something they can do to benefit or serve their community in some way.  They then had to write a project/research proposal with a description of their project, ways they were gonna make it happen, a schedule, a proposal for a research topic connected with their project, and why their idea was of value from a Christian worldview.  (Don't worry...I was nice when grading these. I realize it's a lot of work!)

All this to say, last Saturday 2 of my students began working on the practical aspects of their projects.  Ryan Epperson is one, and he began a project in connection with the organization his dad works with.  I must admit he's way more knowledgeable than I am about what he's doing, but it involves planting A LOT of trees to combat the massive amount of deforestation in Malawi, as well as teaching youth from Gusu and/or Jidi villages about ways to take care of the environment around them.  It's a really neat way of encouraging Malawians to be good stewards of the natural resources in the gorgeous country God has given them.  Ryan is awesome, and though I happen to know he wasn't very excited about this project, I'm very proud of what he's been doing and the difference he'll make through this.

The other student, Kaitlin Harthoorn, took on the massive feat of swimming 25 kilometers across Lake Malawi to raise money to buy Bibles in Chichewa for Adziwa orphanage (I'm hazy on details of the name here, so my apologies if I'm not 100% correct.  My understanding is that Adziwa village is being aided in taking care of the orphans in their area, and families who agree to take in children are given a stipend to help out in the process.  So Kaitlin wanted to provide a Bible in Chichewa for every family and Chief involved in this project.  Now, Kaitlin is already a pretty incredible swimmer. She's on the ABC swim team, and travels around southern Africa participating in swim meets and such.   I thought it was cool she was using her talents/skills for such a good cause.  So Saturday, Aly and I went to the lake to meet her as she swam in from the opposite side of the lake.  A man from South Africa, I believe, had been helping Kaitlin train, and he swam the lake that day as well.  Their goal was to beat the current record time (something like 9hours 45minutes).  Kaitlin's trainer swam ahead of her a bit and came in somewhere around 8.5 hours I believe.

I have to admit, when Kaitlin told me about this project, I was pretty impressed, but I didn't realize the determination it would take.  This girl had been training something like you'd train for a marathon, only in the pool.  She had to change her eating habits a bit leading up to the swim, and put in crazy numbers of hours in the ABC pool working toward this goal.  As they were planning for a 8+ hour swim, there was the issue of how to stay nourished and keep one's body going during that time in the water without a break.  Kaitlin was determined though, and choked down some not so yummy gooey pastey stuffs while swimming to make this work.  Pretty crazy.  Did I mention she's only 17?

So, as Aly and I sat on the beach all afternoon being totally lazy, Kaitlin was ready for her swim at 5 am, but weather difficulties delayed her start til around 7:30 that morning.  Her parents, brother and sister, and swim coach were travelling beside her in a support boat piloted by a family friend.  Her family swam with her at times, encouraging her along the way.  At some point, the weather got rough again, and her dad reported 4 and 5 foot waves in the middle of the lake.  After just over 9 hours of nonstop swimming, Kaitlin was met by a cheering crown at Livingstonia (yes, named after David Livingstone) beach in Salima, Malawi.  Exhausted, and not one for the spotlight, Kaitlin chose to remain in the water to cool down and get some strength back in her tired limbs.

It was a really neat experience for me.  I assigned these projects hoping to help my students feel a little more purposeful- to find some meaning in their lives.  I knew it would be hard work for them, but that's good!  I still think this project was a good idea, and I look forward to hearing more about the amazing things my kiddos are doing.  What I didn't count on was the effect this would have on their teacher, their families, and even the international community.  Kaitlin received hundreds of thousands of kwacha (our currency) and was able to buy 54 Bibles and is donating the rest of the money to help with other needs in Adziwa.  As cool as all of that is, I have to say, the most moving event for me was watching Kaitlin's mom come off of the boat.  (Kaitlin's dad had left a few hours earlier with a nasty bout of seasickness, so he was actually in the water swimming out to meet her.) This wonderful momma watched her daughter endure some really really hard things in those 9 long hours.  She had hugs for everyone around, but soon collapsed into a chair nearby, exhausted physically and emotionally from the experience.  She'd just done a really hard thing- watched her daughter endure unnecessary pain for the good of someone else.  Talking to her later, she told me of Kaitlin's determination and attitude.  I can't quote directly, but basically Kaitlin told her after everything was over, "Ya know, mom...we prayed for God to take away the storm but instead He gave me the strength to endure it."

What a beautiful picture, ya know?  First, of a mother's love.  Hope you don't find me blasphemous, but God is given motherly imagery in scripture- such as the idea of a mother hen gathering her chicks under her wings to protect them.  So I see this mother's love as an incredible picture of God, ever beside his children, watching them endure the storm that He's allowed to come their direction, knowing it's for their good.  Not to mention a picture of God's love for Christ, allowing Him to make the ultimate sacrifice on MY behalf.    And then, the love of her father, standing anxiously on the shore, waiting for her to arrive.  Soon, that wasn't enough.  He couldn't just wait.  We watched him excitedly wade into the water and swim in Kaitlin's direction, escorting her in, swimming the last meters with her.   I mean, how much sweeter does it get?  What wonderful love Christ gives us- not just waiting for us to arrive at the finish line, but swimming out to meet us, experiencing the trial with us, meeting us where we are.  And finally, I was so encouraged by Kaitlin's perseverance.  Like she said- I'm sure they prayed (we all prayed) for God to provide calm weather and good conditions on the lake.  Though conditions were save, God chose to let the storm come, and instead of sheltering Kaitlin, he gave her the strength to press on. To endure.  What faith in such a young girl to trust her Heavenly Father in such a huge task...
Kaitlin inspired all of us.  This young lady's determination and faith are beautiful things.

And I don't mean in any way to take away from the work of any of my other students.  Their tasks are challenging in so many ways, be it working with people from other cultures, organizing and scheduling events, or simply finding time in busy schedules to take on more responsibility than has been expected of them in the past.  It's a huge thing I'm asking of these kids.  I'm asking them to be adults.  To give of themselves sacrificially.  To take on a burden that they normally would not.  But as they go, I hope you'll be praying for them, that God will give them strength to endure.  And I hope you'll pray for me as I attempt to guide them through the process.

And most of all, I hope you'll endure whatever storm you're currently swimming through.  Search for strength in the God who cannot turn you away. The God who feels, who understands, who is running to meet you, who is allowing this for your good, though his heart is pained with every agony you endure.  As Paul (or whoever wrote Hebrews) encouraged us,  "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run  with perseverance  the race marked out for us,  fixing our eyes on Jesus,  the pioneer  and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross,  scorning its shame,  and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.   Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart."