Peace in the Pieces

Yes, another post about puzzles.  And life.  And how puzzles relate to my life.

I'm pretty sure I've had this idea before and probably described it in great detail at a previous time but it came again recently but with another addition, another piece, if you will.

When I do puzzles, if I look too long at the big picture of it all, if I look at all the thousand pieces at once, trying to work out multiple parts of the puzzle at one time, I don't get anywhere and there is just frustration and near hopelessness at how I'm ever going to complete it.  But if I can just focus on one aspect of the puzzle, one color, one pattern, one corner, that's when I begin to get somewhere, that's when the puzzle starts coming together making sense of it all.  And when I'm focused solely on that part, I am calm and it comes easily without any stress or confusion.

There's peace in pieces in front of me.

Coming to the end of a long, significant, unimagined chapter of the story of my life, I'm surrounded by a vast array of pieces of the life that's been lived.  When I look around, I want to understand, to dig deeper into everything that's happened, everything I've gone through, whether it's good or not so good, every lesson that I've learned and how I learned it and what it all means.

But as with a puzzle sometimes, when I start looking at one color, another completely different patter will come to view and I'll want to work on that piece, and then another comes and I'll want to go over there and then here and there again and all over the place.  After going every which way for a while, I step back and realize that I put maybe 5 pieces together in that time.  But if I would stay focused on just one color, just one pattern, and let it flow smoothly into the next, the pieces would come together so much better and with more excitement as the picture becomes clearer and clearer.

I'm just about to the end of a commitment made some time ago.  I began this journey with YWAM four years ago now and a lot has happened in that time.  It would take far too long to describe it all in detail (though that is in the process of becoming a thing...).  There's been great experiences and adventures, difficult challenges that pushed me to and beyond my perceived limits, storms of all kinds (both literal and figurative), incredible people coming and going, gifts realized and strengthened, and a relationship with the creator of it all becoming deeper and more meaningful that I thought possible.

Though there's a lot to think through and remember and delve deeper into with the stories I've lived, there's a peace in the pieces that make it all up.  There's peace knowing that it was all for good, that it was all for a purpose, that it was worth it.  Peace that the pieces will fit together.  Peace that the pieces make up an amazing picture.

I just need to focus on one piece at a time.

 

Following His Lead

In March of 2012, something was planted in me that I put up on the shelf out of sheer disbelief.  It was at a DTS Gathering in Coventry, England and it was the last night before we would all go our separate ways and I would head back to Harpenden.  That night, during a time of worship, a lovely lady from the YWAM base in Milan, Italy came up to me with a word from God.  I didn't know her and she didn't know me but she took the bold step to tell me what she felt God wanted her to say to me.  She said that God wanted to raise me up as a leader.  Maybe even school leading.  (In reference to a DTS)  The first statement I resonated with greatly and could definitely see how God had already been doing that and wanted to continue in that process.  Great.  The second part, I shelved immediately and didn't tell anyone else about.  How could I possibly be a school leader?  There was no way.  I didn't believe it and part of me didn't want to believe it.  Part of me didn't want to get to that point.

Two short weeks after the Gathering, I made my first visit to s/y Next Wave, where I was challenged even more in this process of becoming a leader.  I didn't realize then how big a piece of the puzzle that was to be.

In December 2013, I felt God ask me to lead the next DTS on the ship.  It was more than just a passing thought.  Every piece to the puzzle came together in my mind that moment, showing me how God was leading me towards that.

It is now October 2014 and I am leading a school.  I'm leading a DTS.

On a ship.

God kind of left that last bit of information out...that's just a bonus.

I guess God was right.

It's been a hard journey, one which I never expected to go on and could never have imagined.  There were times of wanting to give up on everything and run away.  But there was something stronger in me pushing me forward, urging me to keep going no matter how much it hurt.

I gave in.
I kept going.

And here I am, ready and willing to take on the challenges set before me with so much excitement for what's to come, learning from all the difficulties in the past to become even more confident in who I am.  With only 3 short months left spent on a sailing ship currently located in the Mediterranean Sea, I'm committed to making the most of this and finding joy and life in it all, knowing that this is exactly where God wants me to be and what He wants me to be doing.

It's gonna be a good one.

On Seasickness.

When you're seasick, everything in life sucks.
Really.

Just picture yourself sitting outside on a ship that is rocking up and down, back and forth with your stomach going in those same directions deep inside of you.  That delicious dinner you just ate does not want to stay down.  Your stomach is churning, you eyes are tired, your head is pounding, your abs are working hard trying to keep you upright, your ears pounding from all the noise of the wind and waves and the smells of exhaust coming out right next to you.  Not very pleasant.  Every little movement you make seems to make it all so much worse.  Getting out of bed to put your shoes and jacket on is more than a chore that requires every mental, emotional and physical capability you possess to get through that task.

And the worst part - you don't know when it will end.

All you can think about when you're seasick is how much you don't want to be seasick anymore.  All you can see is the pain you feel and the deepest desire of your heart to make it stop.  You don't want to answer to anyone, you don't want to do anything, say anything or eat anything.  All you want to do is just lay there, close your eyes and hope it ends soon.

It sometimes helps to turn it into a game to see who can win - you or the sea.

At times, all you want is for it all to just come up already.  But standing on the rail with half your body hanging off the side to avoid all that comes from your mouth to go anywhere on yourself or in an unfortunate open porthole beneath your line of fire, isn't a fun experience either.  Things were meant to go down from your mouth to your stomach, not the other way around opposing gravity.

There is nothing anyone around you can do to help either.  Sure, they can give you a glass of water, a towel to clean any leftovers off your face, or a piece of toast to refill your stomach.  But they can't take the pain away.

I know, this is a really good encouragement for anyone who might want to live on a boat...

Again, when you're seasick, everything in life sucks.
Really.

But there is something to always be redeemed with seasickness.

As odd as that might seem.

Eventually, the ship will stop and the rocking will cease or the feeling will pass.  And when that moment comes, life becomes beautiful again.  It really is the best feeling in the world to have gotten passed the seasickness to a point when you simply don't feel sick anymore.  The boat might still be rocking but your stomach has settled, you can breath, you can move, you can laugh, and you can't help but smile.  The simple tasks that took every effort you possess to accomplish seems so easy and you enjoy them so much.  And it's because of one simple realization - you don't feel seasick anymore.

The other day, we were sailing from Malta to Gozo which is a pretty short distance but we took our time and went the long way.  However, it was a Force 6 with strong winds coming from the direction we wanted to go and the swell was quite large.  I got seasick and I didn't like it.  But as I was sitting on the side of the wheelhouse on the leeward side (just in case something came out so it wouldn't blow back at my face or on Tori who was laying on the deck also feeling the same way...) I came to a realization.  I knew there would be a moment when I wasn't sick anymore and it would be a glorious occasion.  I've experienced the greatness that comes from going from being seasick to not.  This day, I realized that it's not just a sailing thing, but a life thing.

I tend to feel seasick often.  (And I'm not just talking about when I'm on a boat in Force 6 seas with very large swell).  There's a lot of days in my life when all I can see is how sick I feel.  The things I once enjoyed don't seem so nice anymore and I can't appreciate them like I once always did.  I don't want to be where I am with who is around me doing what I'm doing.  I just want to go home.  Those are not fun emotions to be having every day.  But when that moment comes when I'm not seasick, I will be able to appreciate this life that God has graciously given me so much more than I could ever have had I not experienced the seasickness.

I'm not going to be seasick forever.  It will pass and when it does, in that moment, life is going to be so good.  I know there will be another sail to come, another storm to pass, another bout of seasickness to make it through, but I'm looking at the right now.

That moment is coming.  I'm tasting glimpses of it more and more each day.
That moment is almost here and I wait for it with anticipation and excitement.

 

Swimming, Stories and A Yes.

I will be honest and say that the past months of my life have not been the easiest.  They've been hard.  Very hard.  There are a great deal of causes for this hardship and probably even more reasons for it all than I realize.

For quite a while, the negative side of things has been all that my mind and emotions have allowed me to see and feel.  That's not a normal thing for me.  Once I would begin this downward spiral in my thinking and feeling, I would just keep going down and down with no hope of an end until I would be too exhausted that my body finally let me fall asleep.  I would wake the next morning feeling the aftermath of getting hit by a bus.  (Not that I actually know what that really feels like...)  The heaviness of what I was carrying kept pressing down on me and it was all I could think about.

The stress, the things that were not going how I wanted them to go, the things that were changing that I didn't want to change, the homesickness, loneliness, hopelessness, anger, the hurt, anxiety, pressure, the fear, the responsibility I was too scared to bear.

All day.
Every day.

I was exhausted and finding no rest from all the wresting that was going on inside no matter how much I slept and ran and did puzzles and went on long walks through open fields.

I felt like things were never going to turn around.  I felt that it was just going to be like this from now on until I finished my commitment and could move on and I was just going to have to live with it and stick it out no matter how much I didn't want to, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much it was turning me into someone I didn't like.

But, like every other time I have ever freaked out over something, after hours, days, weeks and months of crying out to God, the turn came.

Well, it had to come several times for it to actually stick but it came.

I started to breathe.

I will mention just 3 of these turns among the many.

Swimming.

I've always like water.  (I've not always liked drinking it but that's just when I was a kid and all I wanted to drink was Sunny D...)  I've always enjoyed going to the beach and playing in the waves, rafting down a river, jumping off a cliff into that river, being pulled on a tube being a boat.  Lots of fun.  But I've never really been the best at actual swimming, you know like the breaststroke or one of those fancy ways of swimming.  I could never get the breathing right.

Well, I'm currently on the small island of Gozo in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea and it's summertime.  That means that it's hot all the time.  I don't like heat.  So the only way to cool off, is to go swimming.  Whether that's in the small pool in the backyard, or going on an adventure to find a

sweet cove and risk the jellyfish, swimming is just the best thing ever.  And I'm getting better at it.  I'm learning to breathe.  I do it every day and I love it.  Literally every day.  I have fully embraced the siesta lifestyle (which I now fully understand) so after my post-lunch nap, I go for a swim and again, it's the best thing ever.

It gets my body moving (like running, but there is no running in Gozo unless you like hills, heat and humidity which I do not) and this makes me happy.  Very happy.

Stories

I've recently begun a project that will probably take me a very long time but I'm ok with that.  I've begun writing stories.  My stories.  I've always loved writing.  I still have a collection of stories which I wrote in 6th grade (one of which is a remake of 2 classic Disney stories entitled, "Cinderblock and the Seven Dogs".  Yes.  That is a fact.  It's a bit of a mash up between the story of Cinderella and Snow White.)

I find that I express myself much better in words written than in words spoken.  (How I was expressing myself in the story of Cinderblock, I have no idea.  But then again, I was 11 years old.)

So with this project, I'm attempting to write all the stories that I can remember from the last 3 and 1/2 years of my life that I've been with YWAM, both in England and with Next Wave and the places in between.  That's a lot of stories and places and people and life lessons learned.  I love it when I write one story and then halfway through that one, I'm reminded of another one, then another and it just explodes on the page.  (You can start to read a few of them here - http://aneverendingblankpage.blogspot.com/)

I want to write a good story with this life that I've been given and writing the stories I have already lived have shown me the good that has been my life so far.

A Yes.

When things are uncertain, I freak out.  And I mean, really freak out.  But when things are clear, I can be calm and can breathe and can take on whatever challenge comes.

There have been a lot of uncertainties with what's happening next, some circumstantial that were not under my control, but most in my heart.  I didn't know which way I wanted to go.  There was finally a yes to these circumstances and my heart finally decided to say a firm yes to what I felt God has been asking of me all this time no matter how much I fought it.  I am calm (for the most part...) and I can breathe with a readiness to take on the challenges ahead.

Finally, the peace and the joy came and then the final turn.

It's been a very tough road to get to this point and there were days when I wondered if I ever would.  But the cries were heard and the prayers answered.

So I'm jumping in.

Again.

I'm jumping into the unknown, into the water, into the story, into something I know I'm absolutely capable of (thank you Philippians 4:13) but also into failures, into fear, into inevitable challenges that will test me far beyond anything I've experienced.

I'm jumping anyways.

Jumping, trusting that God is good.

All the time.

Saints out of Sailors.

I often find that I discover songs that say what I need to hear.

I found another one.

Of course, it has its theme along the lines of sailing.  Yes, that might be cliche seeing how I live on a ship.  But actually I don't know if it is because most people don't live on a ship.  But nevertheless, it's something that I can understand and relate to.  When songs talk about storms and waves and anchors, I understand them, I've lived them, literally.  I know what it's like in a storm, I know what it looks like to be sailing through incredibly large waves, I have how an anchor holds a ship (sometimes in places and at times when you don't want to be held).

I get it.

And that makes these songs even more meaningful.



Saints Out Of Sailors - Flannel Graph
http://noisetrade.com/flannelgraphmusic/five-foot-three

Here in the silence I stand like a stone
The face in the mirror don't look like my own
The cards that have been dealt make me just want to fold
But I won't give you up
No I won't give you up
No I won't give you up 
Cuz your anchor still holds

The wind, it's been trying to blast us to bits
And the waters' been trying to swallow this ship
My heart has been throwing the gold overboard
But I won't give you up
No I won't give you up
No I won't give you up
Cuz you are my reward

               The one who makes saints out of sailors
               Carries my frame on his shoulders
               He makes me lie down on green pastures
               And leads me beside quiet waters
               And he's coming for me

Here in the darkness I see in the night
The mist and the waves try to fill me with fright
And my weary soul waits as the morning, it dawns
But I won't give you up
No I won't give you up
No I won't give you up
Cuz your light leads us on
Leads us on

               The one who makes saints out of sailors
               Carries my frame on his shoulders
               He makes me lie down on green pastures
               And leads me beside quiet waters
               And he's coming for me
               
               Oh he's coming for me
               Yeah he's coming for me

He won't give me up
He won't give me up
No he won't give me up
Cuz he's loved me from old

   

In Pieces Pt. 3

I love puzzles.

That's no secret.

I talk about puzzles often.  But that's because I love them.

I had been in England for less than 12 hours and I decided to go for a walk through the town of Harpenden (for the purpose of just going to Sainsbury's and Boots because I could) and I walked passed several charity shops on my way to the post office to exchange money.  Obviously I should just go in.  So I did and I found a 4,000 piece puzzle.  For £3.  (That's like, $5).  I was unsure if I should invest so I walked on.

Then I decided investing was the way to go.

But I couldn't find it again after going through all the charity shops 2 more times so I settled on a 3,000 piece puzzle for...wait for it...99p.  (That's about $1.50)

A quality investment.

So I now have a very large puzzle to do which covers about 1/3 of the floor of my room.

I have to do this particular puzzle a little bit differently then I usually would.

Reason being - there's 3,000 pieces.

I sorted through them all and did the outside edge as is the usual beginning.  For the inside pieces, if I flipped them all over and laid them all out on the floor so I could see them all, I would be ridiculously overwhelmed and I would have no idea where to start. (Plus I wouldn't be able to walk over to my wardrobe...)  It would be hard for me to focus on any one section because then I would see a piece that I would know fits at this other place and then another piece that goes over there and so on.  My mind would be so scattered.

So this time, I first decided to start by separating major colors.  If you can see from the picture, there's a lot of blue pieces: sky, mountain and water.  So I sorted through all the pieces yet again to separate the blue pieces from all the other colors.  Once that was finished, I then started sorting all the blue pieces between ones that just have blue (that part will take, umm, forever...) then the water pieces and water with leaves, and then the blue pieces that have bits of trees and leaves and mountains.  I started to get more and more detailed so I could put them together without being overwhelmed by all the other ones that go elsewhere.  This process will continue until I have it finished.

Now some of you may stop here and think I'm just ridiculous for doing this and loving every moment of it and some of you may be getting frustrated at the thought of taking this on.  Understandable.

But I love it.

There is a great sense of accomplishment when one puts the final piece of a puzzle in place.  When the pieces get put together, I can say that I have successfully achieved something.

God speaks to me when I do my puzzles.  (Read a bit about that in In Pieces Pt. 1.)

Doing these puzzles is how I process things.  It's how I can think through things that are flying through my mind.  It's how I can take the next steps.  And as I do that, I realize things about myself through what I'm doing and how I'm doing it.

I'm in a season right now of really needing to sort through a lot.  When I look at all of the pieces floating around my mind and my heart, it's easy to be overwhelmed at it all because there's just so much and I don't know how to put them all together.  But when I can start to narrow it all down and start to look at the smaller details, it becomes much more manageable and I'm able to focus more.  When one area gets put together, I can then move onto the next because I'll recognize the pieces that then connect to what I just finished.

And the process goes on.  

To some, the separating of puzzle pieces, especially so many, seems like such tedious work that requires patience.  This is true, but if it helps to put the puzzle together without being overwhelmed and stressed, it is well worth it.

I think this puzzle is going to mean a lot more to me than I realize now.  

In doing this, my hope is to actually finish this by the time I leave England in about a month or so.

Challenge Accepted.

Heave To

"Let's heave to and have a swim"

I have heard that phrase several times over the last month or so. (Thank you Captain Jeremy)

I will try to best describe what that means in a language that can be understood by all and not just those who know sailor talk...

Heaving to is the action one would take on a sail boat to stop it's forward motion.  One way in which this action can be taken is to tack (which means to turn the boat so that, for example, the wind coming from the left then comes from the right) but keeping the sails in the front (i.e. the jib) tied down on the same side of the boat, letting the main sail (the big one in the middle) move to the other side on its own and turning the rudder angle into the wind (see picture if it helps...the arrow is the wind direction).  By doing this, all forward motion will stop and you will pretty much just sit there even though the wind is blowing in the sails.

A swim, I think, is pretty self-explanatory, though the means of getting into the water differ from person to person depending on how adventurous they are.  From simply climbing slowly down the ladder (which always takes at least twice as long to actually get in...), jumping off the side, jumping off the very tip of the bowsprit (the long piece of wood at the very front with a net underneath which is higher than it looks when you're out there), or rigging up a rope swing.

We have had some very nice, very calm, sails the last few weeks which I am so very thankful for.  I have never seen such calm water before in my life.  It was beautiful.

It would be just before lunch time and the captain would emerge from his cabin to look out at the beautiful day and say, 'Let's heave to and have a swim.'  

So that's what we would do.
We would stop what we were doing, whether on watch, cooking, cleaning, working, reading, or even sleeping, and go for a swim.  We would enjoy the beautifully clear, blue water then lay on deck soaking in the sunshine.  Lunch would be served on deck and then we'd carry on.

Why do we do that?  Well, first, it's fun.  A lot of fun.  (Except the times when you get a rope burn on your fingers...that stops the fun quite quickly)  But also, we are able to take a break, look out into the open sea where there is no land in sight, switch off for a bit, laugh, have fun, and just be.

I need to do that more often.

It's easy to be constantly going, going, going all the time and never slow down, never stop to look at where you are, never see the beauty around you, never be grateful for the life you have, never just be.

It's easy to always be looking at the destination and the ETA for when you're supposed to get there and that is all that you focus on.  That's all you can see, where you not yet are.  But when you heave to and have a swim, for that hour, those things don't matter and you can enjoy life, enjoy the water, have lunch and relax.

It's a chance to take a step back and just breathe and refresh.

It makes the rest of the journey even better.

Again, I need to do that more often.

   

Surviving the Squall

This is one of those stories you tell the parents AFTER it’s happened.

This is another story of not giving up.

We set out from Gozo on a beautiful Mediterranean afternoon.  We hoisted all 5 sails then cut the engine.  We were sailing.  It was quite and the winds were great and we were doing well.  We were heeled over quite a bit.  So much that we were almost walking on the walls.  It was a challenge to get out of bed.  One’s center of gravity tends to change quite a bit when one is constantly leaning for a long period of time.

Then things began to change. 

The wind started to pick up and so did the swell.  The boat was rocking.  Quite a bit.  Due to the waves, I started to feel the beginning stages of seasickness.  My spaghetti from the night before wasn’t sitting too well.  So I went outside to sit and have some fresh air.  I sat on the side of the wheelhouse outside so I could have something to lean against as I was tired of using all my ab muscles to stay upright.  The rocking continued and then it started to sprinkle a bit.  Then it started to rain harder.  And harder.  And harder.  The winds picked up with a heavy rainfall - hello squall.  

By definition, a squall is a sudden violent gust of wind or a localized storm.  

It sounds less intense then it actually is. 

My roommate raced inside to close our porthole as the winds picked up so much, it was pushing the sails so hard the ship heeled over above the windows.  As she ran inside, we heeled over even more to the point of the deck reaching the water line.  Yes.  The side of the deck started to go under a bit.  It was time to go inside.

I got on my wet weather gear, (thank you 2 pound charity shop find) and went outside to see where I could help.   We had to get some sails down.  The squall was still with us.  After almost half an hour or so of this crazy squall, it died down and then the sun returned along with blue skies and it was gone.

Lunch was had.

My watch began at 4PM and it was looking quite nice.  We raised another sail and things were looking good.  The sun was setting beautifully and I was hopeful the worst was over.  

I was wrong.  

During that squall, there was a lot of damage done to the ship.  One thing that I had to take care of was taking the mizzen sail (the sail at the very back) completely off because the boom, (the long beam at the bottom of the sail) had come off.  How that happened, I will never know.  So as we were taking the sail off, the winds started to pick up again.  The flying jib started flapping which is a sound I’m not such a fan of and a slightly smaller squall came through, this time with no rain.  So that was nice.

Throughout all of this, the swell of the water was so high so we were still rocking quite a bit.  

Then, 1AM hits and then comes a force 10 squall.  That’s not so nice.  It was a mess outside.   We lowered all the sails in a hurry, harnesses and life jackets on everyone on deck, lines flying every where, the boat rocking back and forth, rains pounding down and wind rushing through.  It’s hard to describe in words.  Here’s a picture of the aftermath.  

Not a squall I ever want to experience again.

We got all the sails down and it passed and we were left with just the motor for the next day or so until we could reach a bay to lower the anchor and rest.  Thank the Lord the engine had no trouble whatsoever during this time.  However, the swell was still so big, the ship was rocking back and forth so much, it made walking, and even sitting, quite difficult.

We finally made it to a safe haven, lowered the anchor and we were able to rest.

The next day we got up to fix whatever the storm had broken as best we could.  

We then come to find out that we were unable to hoist the anchor using the hydraulics.  So we were quite literally stuck.  The only other option besides cutting it off and leaving it behind was to lift it by hand.  

Which we did.  

For at least 5 hours. 

It was a lot of work that had to be done only bit by bit.  

Through endurance yet again, we managed to get it up with a great shout of victory and off we went for another 17 hour journey to Piraeus, the port of Athens, which was our original destination.  It was easy peasy and I am so thankful for that. 

No squalls.

We made it.

With a beautiful sunrise to welcome us

What have I learned from this?

Not giving up.  There were countless times of fear and wanting to give up but there was absolutely no way I could give up.  It just wasn’t an option.  We were all pushed to our breaking points but we kept going and made it through.

Overcoming fear.  There is a lot to be fearful about while sailing.

Trusting God.  There were moments when I questioned if He was really there and if He was going to take care of us.  He did.

God is faithful and He is with us always.

Confidence in my sailing abilities.  I always worry that I don’t know what I’m doing half the time when it comes to sailing but I realized that I actually know a fair amount.  

Staying strong through the chaos.  There was a lot of chaos and somehow, I kept going because there were people counting on me.  

The list could go on and as I sit here outside a cafe in Greece writing this, more things keep coming to mind of what I’ve learned and what I will learn through this.  

If we don’t go through the storms, we’ll never grow strong.  At the time, they are pretty awful and scary and it makes you want to craw in a corner and give up, but when you come out of them, there’s a strength that you can carry that wasn’t there before.  

I’d be ok if I never went through another squall again but there’s no guarantee that won’t happen.

I'm happy to be on land again.

I am thankful for my Ladies of the Bridge.

3 Years Later

It was this day, 3 years ago, that I first took a trip across the pond and stepped on to English soil.  It was a day I won't soon forget.  I got off the plane not knowing what lie ahead.  I didn't even know who was picking me up at the airport let alone what the future would hold.

It was the start of a journey that I could never conjure up in my little imagination of possibilities.  A journey of very new beginnings around every corner, of meeting new faces, of going to a ridiculous amount of places, of being scared, of being challenged, of letting go, of running, of sailing, of love, of serving, of hurt, of failing, of succeeding, of not knowing what I'm doing, of deep, lasting friendships, of struggle, of tight spaces, of teaching, of learning, of growing, of maturing, of digging deep, of finding my dreams, of discovering what it meant to be me.  The list goes on.

I think back to this beginning with such a fondness that can hardly be expressed.  I look at pictures

simply of the Oval and a flood of memories and emotions come and I can't help but be so incredibly grateful for the newness of that beginning and what came from it.

It's impossible to tell all the stories and all that has been learned and experienced without turning this into a novel.  I could talk about what I did, where I've gone, what I've learned, how God has used me, how I've changed, how I've learned to dream and see those come to being, all the people I am beyond blessed to have met and shared life with, of finding myself, of the challenges, of learning to run and loving it, of my guitar playing, of sailing...

I have a good story.

A story worth telling.

A story worth living.

Looking back brings so much gratitude for what God has done and brings hope for what's ahead.  It's easy to get quite hopeless when things in life get difficult and it's hard to see anything other than the struggle.  But when I think of the good, I can't help but be grateful with hopeful expectation that there is more good and joy to come through the trials.

Finally brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

Philippians 4:8

I think of these things, of the struggles, of overcoming, of friendships, of fond memories I hold so dear to my heart, and I turn back the the One who gave it all and who keeps giving through the storms.

One things that was spoken over me on my DTS was that God had great plans for me and that He was so excited for those plans.  It's been pretty exciting so far and I want to be even more excited with Him for what's to come.

'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'

Jeremiah 29:11

That is a verse that becomes ever so true every day.  The whole context of it.

For those that have been a part of this journey, I thank you.  You have played a vital and irreplaceable role in this story of mine and it would not be what it is without your presence.

So here I am.  Still very much in this ever changing journey.  It's been quite the three years.  I wonder what the next will bring.

    

Saturday Breakfast.

Saturday Breakfast.

When I hear those 2 words put together like that, I can't express the joy that goes through my heart.  And my stomach.

Saturday Breakfast.

Out of all the inconsistencies and unexpected changes in life, one thing has remained faithful.

Saturday Breakfast.

(It might not always be on a Saturday but that's almost irrelevant.)

It's Friday.  The end of the week.  The weekend is coming and a gloriously hopeful and potential filled question circulates through my mind.

"What am I going to have for breakfast tomorrow?"

This is an exciting quest to ponder of.  Now our normal breakfasts here are all fine and dandy complete with toast and peanut butter and jams of all flavors, cereal, fruit, more peanut butter, tea and the like.  But there's something so great about being able to leisurely wake up and contemplate what creativity I can conjure out of the week's leftovers in the galley.  The choice of the day is almost always eggs.  (Though sometimes buckwheat pancakes and bacon or french toast with caramelized apples makes an appearance...)  I hop up on the counter to reach the egg cupboard, crack them open, whisk it with salt, pepper, and a bit of thyme (along with the inevitable time/thyme jokes...), and make my way to the fridge for what delicious veggies are available for my consumption.  I compile them on the cutting board and chop.  As the cooking process begins, there is an aroma ever so pleasing.  I plate it well (presentation always makes food taste better), sit at the table with knife and fork in hand, (knife in the right and fork in the left like a proper adult) and enjoy what lies before me.

Ahhhh.

Saturday Breakfast.

I don't quite know how to best express in words the goodness that is Saturday Breakfast.

But it's good.