feel so small

As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you  will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, he may give it to you. These things I command you, so that you will love one another.

John 15:9-17

All I ask is that God use me at whatever capacity I am sought. In the last 8 months, for as much as I would love to sit here and say that I actually sought God, I didn't. Yes, I cracked my Bible, but only at the most dire of times...even still, He was faithful in directing me to exactly what I need to read in that moment. Yes, I thanked God for the beauty of life around me, even in the midst of war...but how many other things did I neglect for that one? How many times did God tap me on the shoulder, seek my attention, or deliver me from adversity...and I was too numb to notice?

I had an incredibly real talk with one of my closest girlfriends tonight, and I sit here now completely humbled and small. I asked God to use me at whatever capacity He sought, and He did...and there are no words for the feeling I am graced with now. That the Creator of this Universe would use me...ME, of all the people, with everything I've done, with everything I've been through...I am entirely compelled to love Him more. I find myself dwelling on:



"You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should

  go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide..."

God did not create us to be the losers. He empowered us to be more than conquerers in Christ. I wonder how much better our lives would be if we lived this truth out every day. How much more satisfied would we be? How much more fruitful? How much deeper and more substatial would our relationships be with our family, friends, and significant other...if we simply lived life the way God intended? God never intended us to be overweight and unhappy with ourselves, He never intended for us to suffer with burdens of past hurts, He never meant for us to be alone, isolated, exploited, uncertain, full of regret and mulling over self-imposed consequences as a result.

He meant for us to embrace and reside in His unyielding love for us every. single. day. He zealously chases after our heart, longing to get to know the human being He created, ceaselessly devoting Himself to our heart's desire. He longs to whisper into our Spirit how precious we are to Him, how much He loves us...much like a father invests in his infant daughter. He will never relent until He has all of your heart...of MY heart...He will pursue us endlessly.



The Church, overall, has done a phenomenal job of pushing people AWAY from God. Mankind's view of "religion" has bullied and judged the hurting and lost out of the way, myself included. But, it was only through my out-and-out rejection by the Church, and my rejection OF the Church (don't misunderstand this to read of God, I am only speaking of the socialite gathering on Sunday mornings that is nicknamed 'Church'), that I was able to get to the roots of WHY I believe what I believe:

Love wins.

In every area of my life, love wins. In every word that comes out of my mouth, every action I commit to, God commanded us to love.

"This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you."

And the second step to loving one another is to first love yourself. But in order to love yourself, you must accept the love waiting from a passionate God...

12 days!!

There has been a persistent sand storm in the camp for 3 days now...and as a result, everything is covered in a thin sheet of dust. I am really starting to notice it when I work out; my lungs ache and burn from the debris gathered deep inside. I also have been noticing now more than ever the weariness amongst the group I work directly with...finding an infuriated Marine staring off into the distance, on the verge of a mental break...listening to a Special Forces Soldier talking about casualties on the battle field. The mental and emotional scars of this place far exceed the physical damage...and I wonder why we're here.

I wonder what kind of damage I've taken along my journey, and how it will present itself when I get home. Speaking of...

12 days until my flight lands in the fresh air of Minnesota!! My fears are quickly being replaced with pure elation, and I am eager to be able to relax while enjoying:

tubing down the river.
skydiving.
fishing.
putting my feet in the lake at the cabin.
a vacation to Colorado Springs.
coffee shops with company.
playing guitar and sitting around a bonfire.
the presence of the people who have lended me their strength during the most trying time in my life.
simplicity.

And I've been getting involved in some events around the camp, salsa dancing and Insanity included!! It makes the days pass by more quickly and gives me other things to focus on than my current condition. I've learned that pain never really goes away...time just gives us a means to cope. Strength is simply the willingness to face reality, respect the facts and truth, and accept that which is, is.


Life is good. <3

never forsaken

i've had so many thoughts. i feel like my mind races at all times, and especially when i am alone, in the quiet...so many thoughts...

so few words.

21 days until i land in America. i have no idea how to feel about it. at times,
dread.
elation.
anxiety.
anticipation.

but most importantly, when i rely on the love and strength of the creator of this universe, and the creator of the beauty and depth of my soul, i am at complete

peace.

i can't help but nearly be overwhelmed with his love for me...he knows me, and yet he still loves me. even when others turn away from me, when danger surrounds me, he is constantly faithful to even the least of these...

to me.

higher and higher

While I'm doing something. While I'm doing nothing at all. While I'm walking, sitting, or staring at the wall...you'll find me checking my pulse because:

my anxiety is through the roof and into the stratosphere.

I'm not sure exactly what has me riled up at the moment...but it makes me queasy. It could be the rockets that have been going off all day. Although I don't 'worry', it's still nervewracking. It could be my stress in transiting home in 21 days. Travelling halfway around the world can be incredibly stressful, which is why I alleviate most of it by not bringing luggage, and preparing myself mentally for the chaos. It could be that I am still working through relinquishing control over areas of my life, and realizing, for what feels like the millionth time, situations that I have no control over. And honestly? It could just be because I am completely overwhelmed with being single right now.

This is the first time since I was 15 that I haven't been in a relationship, or even had prospects. This is the first time I have had a completely clean slate. And over the years, I've realized how many girls are in the exact same boat, and I have become less ashamed of that fact. It tells me more about the world we live in then it does about who I am as a person, really. Malleable, young girls in our world are picked apart by peers and the media. That wouldn't be so bad, but coupled that with not getting the support they need from parents or mentors who can help them better navigate realizing their true value...not the value placed on them by others...and it can be a perfect storm for dependency and insecurity.

This is me.
No, this WAS me.

I'm older now, I've lived a little bit of life, and I have solified my principles and value. I focused less on the circumstances around me, and more on my self discipline. I maintain a calm spirit in the midst of the chaos that surrounds me by keeping my own emotions and thoughts in check. What I find most intriguing though, is that I learned these attributes while being in a relationship. As the days passed, I cared less about the 'fluff' of the relationship, and more about just having someone there to walk my journey with me.

Don't get me wrong, as a girl? 'Fluff' is nice. But it's not necessary. To me, at least.

What is necessary is having a solid foundation. The guts of the deal, the promises made, the reliability of your partner, that's what is necessary. And if you don't have that? You have nothing at all...and sometimes, that is a tough pill to swallow.

the prequel

The floor rumbles under my feet, and a concussion rattles my chest. You could nearly see my shrug my shoulders as I think to myself,

"It's just outgoing...no problem."

In all honesty, God truly blessed me to end up at the camp that I did. My safety is threatened more by the people inside the wire than the people who take lives outside of it. I fear more being bitten by one of the planet's most venomous snakes as I walk than I worry about rockets or being murdered simply because of the color of my skin or the country I represent, although I do worry. I speak candidly with little regard to you, the reader, simply because this is the reality of my life here. The media doesn't like to burden the American public with the details of this war. But I am a voice, and I have seen enough. Although I won't divulge sensative or unnecessarily gruesome details, I also won't sugar coat my experience here...my honesty helps me cope, and it helps you better understand the events that have molded me into the person that I am today.

My job here is really quite simple, as well. My job is to maintain Morale, Welfare, and Recreation (MWR) facilities in this camp. My department coordinates activities for the Military and Allied Forces to participate in as a form of release, a form of therapy...along with being their primary link home through hosting internet and telephone services.

In saying all of that, I might sound pretty formal...but really, my job is provide support in any way possible. Sometimes, a Marine will ask to speak with me simply to vent about his experiences to someone who is non-Military and not in his chain of command. People seek me out at my job to talk to me simply because I know English, or because I am American, or because I am female.

And not in a creepy way, either. But when you are a male Marine surrounded by entirely other male Marines for months on end, it can be exceptionally refreshing to talk to someone different.

When I arrived in Afghanistan, I was in no way prepared. It was a complete shock to my system. And really, there is no way to prepare. I had no other experience in my life to even compare to what I was about to embark on. I tried to interpret it like I was going to camp again...except instead of a week, it would be a year or more. Instead of Lake Geneva just down the hill from chapel, it would be dunes of sand for hundreds of miles in every direction. But, turns out, camp and Afghanistan did have one thing in common:

It was about to change my life, starting at my Spirit, and working its way through every facet of my life.

In 21 days, I will be packing my backpack (the only luggage I am bringing) for my 18 hour flight home, not including layovers. Even as I type, a hint of anxiety rises inside me.

What will my family think of me?
Who is going to pick me up from the airport?
I have sooo many things I need to take care of...just 'stuff' that couldn't be done while I was here...
Will my friends mind the person I have become? To say I've changed is an understatement.
Will I see Brandon around? How hard will THAT be?
What about other people that I have hurt that I need to make amends with?

My fear is stilled when I remember that I have no control over any of those things...and that through all of this, God is still with me. I may have changed,

But He has not.

giving second chances

In the past two months, I have watched my plans slip through my fingers like sand. It has been an exhausting rollercoaster, from having to push my stomach down from my throat, to having to pick up what's left of my heart off the floor. I am in the midst of, once again, putting my hopes and dreams on the back-burner, letting go of what I thought was absolutely certain, and realizing:

a break-up doesn't mean I'm broken.

I have always fallen in love too fast. I was the one that was rearranging my life, making unwise decisions, putting myself in dangerous and complicated situations, all for the satisfaction of feeling 'wanted'. My past is very far from pristine, no matter how 'godly' and 'churchy' and 'upright' I appeared. Until my coming to Afghanistan, I was a very lost individual. I played the game, I knew what to say or how to act, that would get my desires fulfilled. I was a hologram of the person I felt others wanted me to be. I was influenced into any situation for the sake of 'being accepted', and I have paid many hefty prices for that character flaw...some of which I am still paying today.

What I find most mysterious about this flaw is that everyone could see it. Except me.

When I came to Afghanistan, I was presented with situations and circumstances that changed my perception. My plane crash in Kandahar, my Dad's car accident on the same day and my inability to do anything about it but pray from halfway around the world (and the recurring health problems he now faces as a result), civil uprise due to war (Soldier shooting 16 Afghan civilians in cold-blood in Kandahar, the burning of Korans in Kabul); the highs of being in a new place, learning about new cultures, and being able to travel the world, coupled with the debilitating lows of homesickness, helplessness, and the lack of control. The latter of which has refined me the most.

'The lack of control' really is an all-encompassing phrase; it it simply more apparent here. As the days press on, I realize more fully and deeply the profound lack of control I have. I don't have any control over the situation with Brandon, I have no control over how he feels or copes with his circumstance. I could go on about the things I don't have control over, but the point is that I DO have control over one facet:

Myself.

I have control over the way I choose to respond to situations. In my past, I chose to respond carelessly, with no regard to myself or others. This has broken relationships with people that I truly care for; some of those people are reappearing in my life now. Others are not. It has cost me financially, left me spiritually dead, emotionally broken, and has nearly cost me my life. My lack of regard for myself or others has now cost me my relationship with Brandon...my foolishness prior to my realization.

It's really quite the paradox...when you feel that you're in control is when you have the least control. And when you relinquish that fault to God and trust that He is ultimately in control, there is immense freedom from the bondage of puppeteering. But, I can't say that God "finally answered my prayer", although don't misunderstand, I was praying. It wasn't that He came swooping down and, in a moment of fiery glory, fixed what was broken in me. What He did instead, though, was present me with open doors, hold my hand and lead me like a child, so I could have the opportunity to learn.

And that in itself is of the most value. If He walked with me through all of this...

What else would He do if I just gave Him the chance to work in me? I'm almost too scared to know, but the anticipation of the journey prompts me...

I stare at this screen.

Part of me feels like a writer, scaling the depths of a starving art. Part of me feels like this might be a mistake, like perhaps, I just changed my mind. But the most of me feels...

I need to get this out.

As I write, blog, type, speak, learn, exist...I sit in a sweltering hot tent in the Helmand Province of Afghanistan. Outside? 125 degrees. Inside the safety of this shelter? 99. I ponder what the point of my writing is...who will read it, if anyone would concern themselves with the travels and experiences of a world-wandering 23 year old. Until I realize, this isn't for you. This is for me.

I can't possibly begin to relay every life-changing experience I've had since I've been here. I can't describe the grief-ridden face of the Marine being sent to Germany, about to find out if he needs his hand amputated, the tears streaming down his face as he describes his shattering heartbreak in not being able to throw a football to his future son. There are no words to adequately describe the fear that rattles my bones every time a rocket whistles into the camp in Kandahar, hitting the floor as dust falls from crude light fixtures, and quickly trying to recall where the nearest bunker is and the fastest way to get there. There might not be words...but I will try.

Above all, I have met more hurting human beings in this hellish country than anywhere else. Afghanistan is an anomoly of sorts, a grab-bag of Military being sent out to fight a war that they don't believe in but on behalf of the Country they love...civilians from every country on this planet coming here for the sake of their culture, supporting an entire family on the profiteering of this war...and people like me.

Me. I feel so insignificant to the comings and goings of this place. But I came here willingly. I knew that this experience, this country broken by the debilitating opression of war, was going to fill a void that nothing in the United States would be able to satisfy. I longed for adventure, I longed to see the world...so I took the first step. I had no idea what I was getting myself into...

But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Sister dust tornadoes



I never cease to be amazed.