confession and profession.

Truth-telling, I hurt a lot. I crumble and far more often than I care to admit, I fall apart. I want to be someone who clings to hope - who shines brightly in the midst of the darkest night - and yet I am so very human and pain demands to be felt. I want to be “good at pain” I want to stand strong and maybe even Jedi ninja my way through it - but I really can’t. I can’t just buckle up my bootstraps and muster through it - or at least, I probably shouldn’t. I am learning more and more that we are all broken, we are all messy, and we are all desperately in need of a Rescuer. We need to spend time seriously looking at our pain, admitting it, sitting in it and giving it some space to exist, to breathe, to be real. Our pain shapes us, but it doesn’t have to define us or be the badge of honor we wear. It isn’t our name - it isn’t the sole identifier in our story. Chances are - it isn’t even close to the first thing someone mentions when they talk about you - even if it is the ONLY THING YOU THINK ABOUT. You know your pain in a way no one else does. You hear it echo, droning on, playing on repeat. You confront it day in and day out - but other people, they just see you. In fact, they probably see you as more beautiful BECAUSE of your pain… if you’ll let them in - if you’ll give them glimpses of the desperately hard and yet still enduring. 

I’ve been listening to a new podcast (well I listened to the entirety of season 1 in the period of about a week, so yeah, there’s that!) called FUNTHERAPY and I have to tell you it was so good for me. It was perhaps even healing to identify with aspects of people I respect and admire and recognize THEY HAVE PAIN. It might be different, but they’re broken and they don’t have it all figured out. They love Jesus and they live for Him and yet they cry out and experience longing and disappointment and suffering. I think so often we have this sense that we’re supposed to be ok and be strong and only live in our “put together” but we actually need to lean on one another and live broken together. We know that - but to truly live it is vulnerable and scary and so we retreat and hide and cry alone in the dark. I truly believe He will bring beauty out of our pain - and also use it to work wondrously in the lives of others - but we have to be willing to step into the light, to share, to boldly live our pain out loud.

So here I am. Confessing and professing. 

I am broken and even still, I have glorious hope. A hope that might not be evident in the midnight tears - but is deep and profound and will NEVER LEAVE ME NOR FORSAKE ME. His name is Jesus.

CLARK CLARK HOAD SWOPE

There is this picture from early January 2017 that has become the encapsulation of a sacred space. A moment of true belonging, of family, of home. It holds within it people who love me fully who allow me to come just as I am - broken, a mess heap, and still they see me sparkly and bright because they know my heart for Him. They push me to love Him most, to seek Him with every ounce, and to pour myself out at His feet. They live their lives in surrender. We all live exposed, vulnerable, honest, and raw. We have all cried in front of each other, and we’ve all been a little dumb too. They’re my people. They’re my inner circle. There is a truly rare beauty in being known and loved - it holds within it the definition of freedom - to let go and BE. 

Over the weekend, I spent some time on that very same couch. I didn’t take an actual picture, but mentally I caught a glimpse of the deep and profound GOOD and the tears came. I watched the Christmas tree dancing with ornaments from Rwanda - a place that we all hold dear, a country that has changed all of our hearts and taught each of us to DANCE for Jesus in a new way. I sipped on champagne from White Horse and we talked about how bubbles are the best. We pressured Jim to change the channel but knew it was a hopeless cause because football would be our entertainment for most of the evening. As the night continued on, I looked at Megan lying on the floor under that same USC blanket cuddled up with her mama Sandy, we taunted her about how she would soon be asleep but watched her attempt to fight it. We FaceTimed our Hoadies in Brazil and laughed, then hung up (it was the middle of the night after all) and called Andy and Kathleen (who would usually be right there with us but on this particular occasion were otherwise occupied since they’d greeted their son Paxon James earlier that morning) and simultaneously gushed over their amazingly cute boy. The sound of some serious snoring took over the living room and somehow even that felt precious and dear. We were together. We weren’t wearing anything fancy and we didn’t do anything special - in fact we had UBER deliver dinner - but it was perfect. 

As I sat on that couch, and thought back and looked forward, I was a smidge overwhelmed by His good and faithful provision. By the striking thought that again it doesn’t look like I expected but it is beautiful and right. Perhaps the beautiful is in the unfolding, the unveiling of best this side of heaven that doesn’t make sense to anyone else but is so evidently of Him. Whether sitting together on that same couch or serving overseas in Mozambique and Berlin - as we walk obediently and in faithful submission to our Father, He is near and somehow we are too…I didn’t know it could really be THIS GOOD. 

counting it all joy...

Early in 2014 I got the news that Anna was pregnant. I can’t remember exactly where I was when I got her text, but I can remember exactly how I felt. I choked - on air. Instantly the tears welled up and deep sobs shook me. I had known it was coming - I knew they were trying - I had attempted to ready myself and yet here I was, in the moment of her great joy and excitement, totally unprepared. It was the death of a yet another dream. 

I grew up with Anna - she has literally been my lifelong best friend. I can remember playing on a double swing in her backyard as little girls and traipsing through the garden behind her house where her bunny lived. What I didn’t realize is that four-year-old Shelly was planting seeds of dreams I had absolutely no control over. Dreams of being a mama alongside her many years in my future. Dreams of raising little girls together that would be best friends - just like we were. But the moment had arrived for her and it was abundantly clear things were not going to happen the way my fairytale-self had written them so many years before.

At this point, I was approaching thirty with no husband and no hope of one on the horizon. Anna got married when we were 22 and I think throughout the years I secretly whispered, “you can still catch up” to the small voice of doubt that crept in and attempted to warn me to look to Him, to allow Him to direct my steps and write my story. I thought I could get married before she moved to the next chapter - we could still double date - I could have kids quickly and we could enter that phase together. When news of the Garcia baby came in, the gig was up, I had to grieve. 

Throughout Anna’s pregnancy, as I celebrated by planning a “cute as a button” baby shower and entered into the sacred space of anticipating the arrival of her beautiful baby girl, I also stole away to shed many tears of sorrow. I poured out my heart to my King and began to learn the dance of joy in the midst of sadness and living out a new definition of bittersweet. I remember vividly the weekend Adelynn Rae Garcia was born - she was breech so she arrived via c-section as scheduled on Friday, December 12. I drove down Sunday, December 14 to meet her. I came quietly into the hospital room and caught glimpses of those bug eyes and her tiny little nose. I was by Anna’s side when they pushed her out of the hospital that evening in her wheelchair and then they put A in the car and took her home. I got in my car to drive back to Orange County and again the tears took over as I was overwhelmed by gratitude for the beautiful girl that had already stolen my heart - such true joy in getting to be Auntie Shell and take part in this new chapter with Anna alongside a deep ache and unexplainable longing and hole that felt so very real. 

In a matter of days Adelynn will turn three and I am truly amazed at the faithfulness of our good Father to turn those tears of sorrow to tears of joy. I still yearn for a family of my own. I still long to understand what He is writing for me and to know if that darling girl who is full of sas and spunk and adventure will run wild and free with any of my babes. BUT I can say without any question or hesitation that I love Adelynn more than I ever thought possible. That our little friendship is amazingly special and it would not be the same if I had kids right now. I have gotten to be present for so many moments because I am free to drive down to San Diego without hesitation - to be there to set up birthday parties and enjoy Friday night dinners at Liberty Station, to read her stories on repeat and change her diapers and hear her tell me she loves me to the moon and back and get to respond with I love you to Africa and back (and then later have her tell her daddy she loves him from Africa to to the moon). I have a million tiny little memories tucked away from being present for the beginning of life with A - and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. THIS has been His best for me. It isn’t what I imagined and probably isn’t what I would have chosen if I could have written it myself, but it is sweet and I can count it ALL JOY. 

goosebumps and dreams...

Sunday I was in San Diego with my parents, so I went to Gateway Church - the church I grew up in - the church that somehow always feels like home and family no matter how long I’ve been away. It doesn’t matter what we sing or who brings the Word - tears always manage to brew at some point in the service. This week, communion was a particularly sweet time - one in which I found myself a bit overcome with gratitude as I pondered the true gift of Jesus and the immense weight He has lifted in coming as our Rescuer. Through His blood, we are pardoned and our sins are forgotten - we are washed white as snow and He knows them no more. We are FORGIVEN and REDEEMED and FREE. 

Moments after service, Nancy Williams came up and hugged me. Nancy is one of the dearest souls you’ll ever meet. She has known me since I was born - her husband Sam was our pastor when I was very young - he actually dedicated me as a baby and it is really fun to be in church together from time to time. Nancy has been a continual encouragement through my adult years - my single years - my years of wrestling. She speaks truth and always points me back to Jesus, who loves me infinitely more than I seem to remember at times. We talked just briefly about Africa and I think I might always light up when the conversation heads that direction, it really is a vibrant love the Lord has placed deep within me…I have always known I had a heartbeat for the nations. But really, I also have a special place in my heart for Africa - I just didn’t know that detail before. As we continued talking, I shared that I think He has done a work within me through the years in allowing me to release, to surrender, to allow Him to be the one in control of the guiding and directing. I’ve come to terms with the reality that this life looks absolutely NOTHING like I expected or dreamed, and I’ve spent a fair bit of time grieving those dreams. I’ve released them. I’ve begged Him to replace those dreams with Himself and to be my biggest dream; and little by little, I am finding new hope and new joy and falling in love with Him more and more. She looked at me with the slightest glisten of tears beginning to well up in her eyes and asked me to touch her arm. Right there, she had goosebumps. She told me, “THAT is what you do to me Shelly, you give me goosebumps, your love for Jesus is so evident.” It was a wondrous moment and I am just so thankful for the little ways He chooses to remind us that He is right there. That In the midst of the long seasons of waiting and wanting and wondering, He is working and shaping our hearts. I am convinced I know Him in a way I wouldn’t had I not wandered in the wilderness. I have grown and become in the desert, and though I would never have chosen this road, I am grateful that I am walking with my King…closer than ever before…daily being molded into His likeness. There truly is no where else I’d rather be. And what a blessing that others can see Him on display through my words and in my actions - I want nothing more. Thank you Jesus for goosebumps and encouragers, and the gifts You so generously give...for adventures and Africa and HOPE. I have no idea all that is in store - but I will chase You...and I know You will dream for me! 

shards of light...

2017. 

I probably came into the year with some sort of word or mantra. I actually can’t even remember. But I am sure I probably wanted to claim something. I know I wanted to walk INTO joy and do my best to walk OUT OF longing and lonely. I have spent the better part of my 30’s kneeling at the cross trying to understand exactly what story God is writing with my life…distinctly aware that it looks nothing like I expected….wresting over disappointment amidst a deep desire to have hope knowing He has overcome and has not forgotten me. He asks us to walk in obedience by faith and I want so much to honor Him with my life. I truly seek to be faithful even in my failing. 

I also knew it was going to be a year where He was going to be the only way. Here’s the basic overview: Anna had a baby, Shannon had a baby, I said goodbye to my dear Grandma who died at age 99, I moved to Newport Beach where I currently reside with my one roommate, Emily had a baby (and it was wonderful escaping to the Lou to meet Charlee Sue and celebrate Emy’s 30th birthday too), my sweet friends the Hoads moved to Brazil to study language before heading to Mozambique Island where they’ll be missionaries long term (my heart for the nations is beating ever strong, but saying goodbye to some of your favorite friends isn’t exactly fun), I attempted to date some boys - let’s just say the online dating game is quite an adventure; I turned 32 and over birthday brunch I told my friends I was going to DO THE BIG THINGS THIS YEAR (I had no idea what that really meant), Amanda had a baby, Mindy had a baby, Ashley got married and I rocked it at that bridesmaid life (I should be really good at it by now - I’ve had a lot of experience!), CHOSEN year 3 was a total success and to say I love those teens is an outlandish understatement, Teen Leadership Camp was the best ever (yes please to an entire weekend with my favorite teenagers on the planet), J got married, I said yes and began prepping a team to go to Africa, I celebrated 6-years at AkinsParker Creative (and have learned that while my job may not be the ultimate drive and passion of my heart, it pays the bills and allows me to thrive in my passions outside the office and that may be just as valuable...plus there is almost always la croix in the fridge), Rebecca had a baby, Steven and Lindsey had twins, Jenny had a baby, I read some really good books and continued to grow deeper alongside the #CoffeeThree Book Club (I am still blown away that our little rooted group was a foundation deep enough and strong enough to stand tall today - these girls are not really mentees anymore, they're friends!), I started mentoring a sweet girl named Holly (whom I absolutely adore), Amanda and Tanner moved to Texas (must you take away ALL my people, Lord?!), Noelle had a baby, Kathleen is due to have a baby virtually any time now, I drank entirely too much coffee and attempted to keep my nails painted, we celebrated Shalina’s baby and we’ll greet her little girl with joy in early 2018, I found out Ashley is going to have a baby, I’m anticipating a trip to Maryland in just a few weeks where I will spend Christmas - with my brother and sister and my very favorite tiny humans, and then Susan is closing out the year with a total bang by getting married (which means I’ll get to see and love on some dear World Changing friends just over 10-years-later, and I have no doubt squeezing their necks is gonna be the best ever!), OH and I actually got on a plane and did the big adventurous thing - I went to RWANDA! 

If I look back at this year, it is so evident that all around me there are reasons to rejoice and celebrate. I joined in those celebrations, I hosted many of them and I do continually choose to be present. But if I am really honest, there is still this little part of me that wrestles in the midst of longing for my own celebration - this aching part of me that has a good desire but sees clearly that the Lord has not yet provided. As I drove home from dinner with a friend - who just announced she is having a baby - I listened to a podcast completely unrelated to family or singleness and even still the Lord’s faithfulness in the midst of the ever-present-storm overwhelmed me. 

“You are here in part because of the godly, wise choices you’ve made. There is a desire to be married to the right person, to be in the right relationship and you are where you are because you’ve made good decisions. We don’t have an answer for why there is a ‘delay’ or why God hasn’t brought the person in at this point in time. But what we do know is that you are suffering for righteousness sake, because of your decision to do the right thing, and this has brought God pleasure. Let’s just trust together that the Lord is going to honor you. Let’s not question in the dark what God has show us in the light.” -Dr. Emerson Eggerichs

I don’t know that anyone has ever told me that God is pleased as I suffer or that somehow my battle in singleness is both for Him and righteousness. I know that I am growing due to the suffering, that I am united with Christ, and that He draws near to the brokenhearted. I even know He hears my cries and promises to repay every tear with joy (which, to be honest, seems a bit impossible at times) but that He is pleased with me, that He is going to honor me - that is entirely new and so full of hope and promise. It somehow even breathes new life into this space and makes it seem more purposeful. It doesn’t mean that the wrestle is over…but perhaps new truth let even the tiniest shards of light begin to illuminate what once felt like only darkness. 

Africa brought me ABUNDANCE...

Over the weekend I spent some time with my friend Carrielove who made her way through Los Angeles on her “way home” to North Carolina via a speaking gig in Colorado. While I was never very good at geography and am perhaps the most directionally impaired person you’ll ever meet - I do realize that isn’t even remotely a direct route. It was really fun to see her and adventure our way through Los Angeles and Orange County at a ridiculously fast pace. We managed to eat Sidecar Donuts and Balboa Bars, see Bad Moms Christmas, visit Central Market in Downtown LA then take a ride on Angels Flight, our fantastic funicular which gave us the chance to view the spectacular 500 Days of Summer Park. We walked through the garden behind Disney Concert Hall while sipping on Starby’s iced teas and then experienced The Broad Museum. It’s unique. Our final stop in downtown LA was OUE SKYSPACE - California’s Tallest Open Air Observation Desk and the SKYSLIDE…yes -we took a magic carpet ride down a glass slide over the LA city scape. It sounds really scary but actually it is somewhat anticlimactic, but TOTALLY hilarious! We ate mexican food at Rosa Mexicana in LA live and then collapsed in bed. The next day included a train ride to San Juan Capistrano for brunch and a glimpse of free range animals plus a walk on the beach, milk shakes in hand, plus in-n-out because no California adventure is complete without it! We packed the weekend full! 

We also had a LOT of conversation. We talked about calling and heartbeat and seeds of dreams God has placed within us. We talked about passion and drive. We talked about love and longing and lonely and friendships. But we had one conversation in particular that I keep coming back to. Carrie mentioned that she thinks the American people are battling a mindset of scarcity - that we somehow think there isn’t enough for each of us individually, thus competition is at an all time high alongside this driving force of desire to be noticed and seen and celebrated in each of our accomplishments. I just returned from Africa so I am hyper aware of the waste and absolute ABUNDANCE surrounding us. Perhaps I even exhibit a bit of rage against the idea that someone could think that the average American “needs” for much. As we drove toward downtown LA, we passed the Citadel outlets and caught a glimpse of this giant bow adorning the top of the castle-esque exterior. With some quick google searching, we found that this particular bow was made red with 4,000 cans of paint and topped with 1-ton of glitter. Sounds like the very definition of SCARCITY. And friends, the Citadel is a pretty janky outlet mall. I don’t have any idea what 4,000 cans of paint and 1-ton of glitter amounts to in a dollar scenario, but I know there are a LOT of people around the world that have significant and very real needs. Needs like clean water, or even two meals a day, access to medication or education. I had dinner with my friend Lauren a couple weeks ago and we talked about playing the “what’s it called” game at our tables during in Rwanda and the answer from all the kids was FOOD. I realize I have been humbled and broken and my eyes have been opened by this taste of poverty, but I tell you I am so grateful and honored and consider it my privilege to look at the world around me with a shifted perspective. We don’t need anything and we miss SO MUCH in our lives of plenty. We have DISNEYLAND - a place where we literally throw money away or light it on fire in the sky every single night and we still somehow think we live in scarcity. We still somehow BELIEVE there isn’t enough for us. My goodness. I am realizing over and over and over how much I am still processing from Africa, how much He is still speaking over me, and into me, and how deep my heartbeat for a new life has become. I don’t know all that is going to unfold - but I have a feeling I will never ever be the same person I was before - and I am so very glad. 

a broken vessel...

Yesterday I was trying to explain a situation to my counselor (who I lovingly refer to as Denise - that’s her name) and at the end of my rant the words, “IS THAT WRONG?” came out of my mouth with vengeance. She looked at me and said, “No. But I think you might really struggle with intimacy should you ever choose to pursue a relationship that REALLY requires that.” 

Hmmmmm. 

I am willing to be vulnerable and exposed, transparent, gutted. I am a deep person and often let people come too close too fast. But I think she is right. I struggle with intimacy when I don’t get to CHOOSE to walk away, and put up the walls, and create the space. I want to control the intimacy - physically - and emotionally. I want to decide I’m done, when I need a moment to breathe. I want to close the door and shut out everything and everyone. 

Long story short, chronic pain has ruined me and though I attempt to handle it well, as simultaneously it is crushing me - I am looking at it once again and seeing the profound impact it has had. I have learned a lot about expressing my needs, about letting people see me in the midst of my pain and not shying away from that. BUT if I am really honest, as pain overwhelms and exhaustion sets in - even if I have sent a text or two alerting my people that it is bad - I don’t want you there. I might think I do, I might even SAY I do, but I don’t. I want to shut down and close you out. I want only the darkness. I want only alone because I’m afraid I’ll crumble and I don’t really want you to see that. I want curled up under the covers in a little ball, invisible. Hidden. 

When contemplating Africa, I was afraid. I was afraid of not being capable because of my head. I told my team about it before leaving…and then I went… I lead…with hope and a tiny hint of courage. The Lord is faithful and provides strength in the midst of the hardest moments, but I did have a really bad day (we refer to it as “the grey dress day”) and I did kind of fall apart. It was Friday, the day that camp ended, and I had so much responsibility. It was the day I got to share my story and close camp with a bold challenge and pray a blessing over all the children, and then say goodbye. I remember waking up (kinda funny, I think I slept for an hour) thinking it was going to be a torturous day and I was right. As we pulled away from camp after tearfully hugging the campers who had become so dear to our hearts for the last time, I could barely stand, the pain threatened to literally take me down. As I sat in the Jeep driving away from camp and through the village of Bugasera tears poured - partially emotional - and undoubtedly physical - pain was undeniable and intense - the kind that just takes over and claims you as a victim. I had a view of the Jeep ahead (when my eyes were open) and caught glimpses of my teammate watching, empathy and compassion written on her face. She knew. She cared. I had met her for coffee and told her my story before we left on this grand adventure. Throughout training, God made it abundantly clear that He had a special place in my heart for her - she actually reminds me of me. She is FULL of His light and overflows with joy and enthusiasm - but she also has a story full of pain. It is one she will have to continue to seek Him in the midst of and fight to grow through - it will be hard, but oh how she will SHINE HIS GLORY if she allows Him to be her strength. When we got back to the guesthouse she ran to me. She offered me water and meds and carved out a space for me to be alone for a minute, to gather myself before entering the chaos of the team and translators and another goodbye. She made it ok to not be ok - she entered graciously into the pain because she’s been there. I felt myself fighting her, wanting to push her away and be strong enough to not need her, but also overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity of her presence. I softened. I took the moment she gave. Then we turned and went together into our Rwanda home. After getting through a few more events, it was officially time to be “done” and I could settle in for the night. As much as I wanted to say “will you stay” every part of me curled up in the ball and shut the door to my room - nothing left - no space for another person. Distance my only protection from complete annihilation. 

Denise says it is my defense mechanism and my method of strength in the midst of what threatens to be too much - a carefully devised weapon - built over time - engaged strategically when needed. But the armor of God is our weapon for battle. He is our strength in weakness. He is the gold that pours through the cracks and fills our broken exteriors. I want to be that kind of display of His love. 

So…I guess once again, it’s time to grow…to let people in…to break down more walls. So I’m starting here - with being honest - with admitting I want to slam the door and shut down and go silent. Because it hurts and it’s hard and I feel alone even as I try to let you in. You can’t understand and I don’t feel your nearness and not telling you makes it easier to fight. But I want to have real intimacy in my life - and I want to to be a display for His glory, a broken vessel, choosing hope, loving louder and giving more.

life in the ...

I am realizing more and more that we live life in the ellipsis. We want to believe that our stories start with a capital letter and run in sentences with clean punctuation. We want to believe it will be simple, but the truth is, it never really works that way. We are virtually always on a path marked by a … trusting God to direct the in-between. We find ourselves wondering, waiting, hoping, longing, praying that the One who sees and knows will make clear the next steps we are to take so we can ultimately find the period. 

In a matter of days, my dear sweet friend Amanda is moving to Texas. We have already said our goodbyes. There is a heaviness in my heart - once again it feels as if God is stripping away the richest and the best. As I stood at the front door at her goodbye party on Saturday evening, after hugging her for the 12th time that night, I realized our ellipsis had arrived. I always knew she would go. Years ago we sat at a little cafe table and discussed whether God would call her back to Africa or perhaps to China - but we knew she would go - we always knew TOGETHER would not be our long-term story. Then she met Tanner Wayne, a pilot in the United States Airforce and within days of first hearing about him on the phone, God graciously began to whisper “get ready” to my heart - I knew she would marry him. I remember exactly where I was when I got the text from Tanner including a picture of a ring. I sat on a bench and watched Amanda try on wedding dresses. I was there when she walked down the aisle, when they made their vows, when they kissed, when they danced. Then in what seemed like a blink I was there to hear the news they were expecting and prayed alongside my Mands, a mama-to-be, as she faithfully trusted the Lord with her son. Then came the midnight texts that labor had begun and Haddon Wayne would soon be arriving. I got to cuddle that sweet boy just days after he was born and have watched him grow over the past 6-months. We have lived an extraordinary ordinary together in the past four years. And, as I walked out that front door, following our goodbye, we entered our ellipsis. 

Selfishly, I want to know what comes next. I don’t want to live in the in-between. I want to know that when I meet my handsome hunk she will be there to see the ring… that she’ll be sitting on a bench as I try on wedding dresses and she’ll be my matron of honor alongside Anna and Emily, which means crafting together and throwing all sorts of shenanigans... I want to run into each other at church or say I need a coffee date just open up our calendars to make it happen... Selfishly, I want at least one of my best friends IN TOWN. I want more than booking a flight a few months out and counting down the days until our next hug... everything is a maybe now... everything is a HOPE.  

Life in the ellipsis means wondering what God has in store and where He is going to move and how and when. Truth be told, that kind of trust isn’t my favorite. I don’t like the stripped down and clinging to Him alone, but I know without any doubt that is best. Christ alone. Forever - waiting on Him to move - and then running and chasing after Him. Hard. Knowing regardless of who is physically there beside me, I have Him, and He has provided exactly what I need. It might hurt and it might be hard, but it is right. So here we go - to text messages and emails and FaceTime dates. To best friends around the world and knowing He is at work even as I wait for Him to reveal exactly what He is doing. I surrender all ... and I will live WITH HIM in the ellipsis. 

holy ground...

Every once in a while I stand in worship on a Sunday morning and I am literally transported to a holy moment somewhere else. It is as if I am living in a different experience entirely, I am surrounded by people praising His name, and somehow I am not there at all - He has invited me to join Him to rejoice in a space of worship that has been savored within my heart and will forever residence there - a space I can enter into and join with all the angels to praise Him once again. It is overwhelmingly good and unexplainable outside of Jesus. 

It happened just last week. It was an ordinary Sunday at EvFree and we were singing “What a beautiful name it is, the name of Jesus…” As I closed my eyes, the female voice changed to Yayel, one of our translators while in Africa and I could see the Rwandan hillside in the distance - lights dancing - small fires illuminating the night sky. I could almost feel the hands of my teammates in mine as we stood outside the World Relief Guesthouse in a circle, worshipping together in one voice - one heart. It was Friday evening and we had closed the week at camp only hours before. Our hearts were heavy with grief and yet full of rejoicing at the overwhelmingly good work that our faithful Father had allowed us to see and be part of…the names of our beloved campers lingered close…we knew another goodbye was coming. The translators who were now also part of our team would soon be hugging us tight and then walking away from the house so we were taking this time to worship together before a final prayer would close the night and our time together. Our voices resounded in praise and filled the sky, it was one of the most beautiful worship experiences I have ever known. I stood at EvFree and tears poured down my face - I was overwhelmed with gratitude that He would take me back there…as I stood in that circle once more, I could see all their faces and hear their voices. I breathed in Rwanda and whispered thank you in my heart as the words “What a powerful name it is, the name of Jesus” continued from my mouth. Then in a flash, I was in the dining hall at camp and for the briefest moment I watched William dance and felt a surge of pride then felt him nuzzled in close against me as I held him tight for a hug, his hair rubbed against my chin. I stood in the room where we led all the lessons and I spun in a circle to see all the children once more. I couldn’t contain the total joy. At the back of that room the very first night of camp, my team and the translators started it all by holding hands and singing worship together and tears poured faster and harder as the room emptied and the words “it is well” came to the surface my memory. Then I was back at EvFree, standing next to Mere, radiant, full, and whole. I was listening to an unfamiliar voice sing and somehow knowing I had just met with Christ in the safest and most intimate of places - prepared just for me - as a reminder that He knows the very depths of my soul and will always cover me there. 

I have met with Him in that space many times - I have stood to sing wearing a Red Robe, feet covered in snow, the gorgeous melody in Hebrew, while standing at the end of the train tracks at Auschwitz-Birkenau… I have gone back to Camp Caribe in Puerto Rico to watch the waves crash against the beach as my World Changers team worshipped amidst the mosquitos and waving palm trees… I have returned to tremble on the stage in a church in the 9th Ward of New Orleans, incredibly weak and sick, singing “I surrender all” looking to my left and right at boarded up windows as the stained glass had all been shattered in the crashing waves of Hurricane Katrina… I have marveled at repeated sunsets over Parliament while singing in an outdoor amphitheater in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada… most often I find myself returning to a candlelit sanctuary in Port St. Lucie, Florida, a cross leaning against the stage, the acoustic guitar as the only background to “Jesus Paid it All” pouring from the lips of hundreds of teenagers who had fully committed and determined that being servants of their King was far greater than anything else. 

The moments are all sacred, all holy ground, all face to face with my Savior, all reserved for becoming more radiant as I take in a glimpse of His glorious sacrifice and love for me. What a beautiful name it is - the name of Jesus. 

the beginning of #theshollyshow

Several weeks back I received some mail from EvFree Fullerton. I opened the envelope to find a letter detailing a request to come learn more about being a mentor to a High School Core Group leader. It stressed that they had prayed over every individual receiving the letter and were seeking each of us out specifically. I paused. You see - since I returned from Africa I have battled hard against feelings of inadequacy. I gave everything I had to leading my team both in preparation and ultimately in ministry throughout Rwanda. And while I can confidently say I led well from an administrative and organizational standpoint, and even feel like Camp was a tremendous success and our team served wholeheartedly giving Him all the glory, I came home questioning whether or not my team actually liked me. I can hear the ridiculous in that statement - but my heart has waged war there. The vast majority of my team is significantly younger than me and Satan found a foothold and a playground in my desire to have their approval and continued friendship upon our re-entry at home.

When the request came to mentor a Core Group Leader - it played right into that space. I instantly questioned my validity and wondered if I could relate to someone in that group - with that level of spiritual maturity and the cool factor to be adored by high school students. I hesitated. I went before the throne in obedience, but also found myself wrestling with the idea that it could be just awful and knew the battle of rejection that seemed to plague me from every direction could be intensified if He asked me to say yes.

The info meeting was literally a room of white-haired folks. Let’s just say I am not THAT…yet. I wondered yet again if this was something I was supposed to be doing but prayed throughout the next few days and ultimately felt the nudge to an uncomfortable yes. While I may not be miles ahead in the journey, God has allowed people to walk alongside me throughout the seasons of life and it has been hugely impactful and such a blessing. So here was my chance to pray with someone, encourage someone, share His words with someone - all He was asking was for faithfulness and pointing back to truth. YES, it could be miserable, but we would be growing even in the hard. Obedience by faith. 

The following Sunday, we went for a little training alongside all the other mentors who had officially said YES and then they told us who we would be partnered with for coffee and heart-talk for the upcoming year (which could either be quite brief or an unbearably long period of time). It was a TOUGH morning for me including a killer headache. I went a bit heavy-hearted and dreary. But oh how He loves to sing over us and prove time and time again that He has a purpose beyond what we see. They began to read through the list of pairings and said “Shelly you’re with Holly” and I squealed audibly. Holly and I had met years before because she was roommates with one of my dear friends Torrey Allen (she is literally the best…you wish you knew her!). Through Torrey, I began pursuing Holly a smidge - she has a beautiful heart for the Lord and cares deeply for the marginalized and vulnerable. We met for coffee several years ago because she was considering going to camp with us as a counselor. It was one of the best coffee dates ever - we laughed and talked so easily for hours and left the meeting thinking we should meet up again! Life happens and though we have only passed in the hallways occasionally - she definitely isn’t a stranger and is a tender and sweet soul. There was no question the Lord was waving His banner of love over me and reminding me - YOU ARE WANTED. YOU CAN CONNECT. SHHHHhhhh sweet girl - let Me love you - all you need to do is walk toward Me. A few days later I got a text from Holly that read, “SHELLY!!!” and she shared that she had been a bit anxious about the entire experience and God had also heard her cries. We had our first meet up on Sunday morning and needless to say, it was an absolute delight. I do not know what the Lord has - but I already hear Him singing sweetly and am thanking him in advance for what I truly believe He has planned and prepared for us to ENJOY in the richness of His presence together. What a beautiful gift to serve a God that loves us well even in the midst of our lacking!

So it begins…#theshollyshow

SELF...

It is time for some cold, hard truth-telling. So listen up and listen clear. YOU ARE WANTED. My goodness. This wrestle you can’t seem to knock down and drag out - it isn’t real. The Bible is so clear that “our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” Ephesians 6:12. It is time to armor up and defeat the evil one. You know that if God is at work, Satan is prowling - so strand strong and be of great courage. Take heart, have hope. GREAT THINGS ARE COMING. You love well and you are beloved - by the King and by so many others. You are seen and celebrated for who you are and who you are becoming. Keep drawing near to Christ. Keep chasing Jesus - He alone is enough and you don’t have to BE anything other than exactly who you are. You don’t have to hear words of affirmation from others but my goodness you DO hear them - so listen to them when they come, receive them, be grateful for them, and allow them to bless you. Stop looking for the acknowledgement of man and know to your core that God’s approval alone is all you should seek and the only thing that will fulfill you. You know who you are - now go out there and be bright and bold for His glory. 

It is Well...

On Sunday evening I had the opportunity to sit across from my very first friend from college (C-B-WHAT, C-B-WHAT, C-B-U! C-B-U!!) Lisa Laird. She lives in Phoenix and we don’t get to see each other often - she is a mama to three and that is beyond a full-time job. Nevertheless, when the opportunity arises, aka. the annual trip to Disneyland comes around - we make the space every single time. We met in Downtown Disney at the Jazz Kitchen for Irish Coffee and beignets. 

>> Quick diversion - Lisa bought me my very first drink. It wasn’t my birthday, or a special occasion of any kind actually. I was over 21 because I am THAT kind of girl and as I think it was just a random night when she was visiting CBU after she had already graduated. It wasn’t the least bit glamorous - I am pretty sure we stopped at the 7-11 near campus and we were all freaked out someone would see us - and by we I probably just mean I was freaked out - Lis wouldn’t have gotten in trouble at all - she wasn’t even a student. I am a rule follower THROUGH AND THROUGH, so to the core I’m sure this was difficult for me. I couldn’t tell you what I drank that night but probably a Smirnoff ice or something else entirely ridiculous, I probably kept it in the brown bag the ENTIRE TIME, and I bet I felt like a TOTAL rebel, and absolutely LOVED it! >> 

As Lisa and I sat across that table and talked, gratitude rushed in. Lisa was literally the first person I met at CBU. We lived on 1C and I had arrived early for CHOIR CAMP (aka hell week for choir nerds) and Lis was there early because her older sister was focus leader (in charge of orientation) and needed to arrive in advance of all the newbies. God could have placed anyone in my path that first day - but He chose Lisa. We were dear friends throughout our college days - I watched her date and ultimately dump her first college boyfriend (drama), hung out in her apartment while I was still living it up in dorm land, watched her graduate, move back to Phoenix, and ultimately marry Mike. All these years later, I am still unspeakably thankful for His divine provision. Lisa’s heartbeat is for Christ and her desire is to honor and serve Him wholeheartedly. 

The beauty of a friendship years deep is you can usually pick right up where we left off, never skipping a beat. Lisa is undoubtedly in a busy and overwhelming season - she has a full plate with all those babies looking to her to meet literally all their needs. I think our time together was a bit of a pause for her - but I sensed the rest she needed was much greater - she needed Him to allow her to be still. As our conversation continued, she began expressing that very thing. She yearned to hunger for Him, but was so weary and exhausted that she didn’t even know how to find the space to seek after Him. She found herself opening the Word only to read the same verse over and over because nothing would sink in within what seemed only seconds available before a child woke up or needed to be picked up from school or just wanted mama. I found my heart softening. In His abundant mercy, the Lord has allowed me to walk this road in a unique way because I have a lot of mommy friends and I have been learning much about striving after God myself. I began to share from my journey. 

What if this season is about resting with God versus performing for Him? What if in an approval based society, we feel as though He is looking for us to read His word or underline truths and write in the columns of our Bibles; but really, He wants you to turn on a worship song in your house and paint your nails? What if He wants you to go on a walk with your kids and point out the flowers He created and just breathe in the beauty of His majesty all around you. What if He wants you to have a cup of coffee and cry - just come before Him and let it out in honesty? Maybe this season is about sitting WITH God versus proving yourself TO Him? 

I watched the tears well up in her eyes. As a perfectionist and deep seeker of approval myself, these have NOT been easy things for me to wrap my brain around, but I am trying to listen to the truth that our good and faithful Father created us beautifully and perfectly in His image and there is not ONE THING we need to DO to EARN His approval. I am familiar with the art of striving, and the weight that comes along with it. I continued to share. 

I think sometimes we really need to hear that He is proud of us exactly where we are RIGHT THIS VERY MOMENT. We don’t need to do one thing. You are His beloved - His beautiful daughter and He doesn’t look on you with disappointment or expectation. He merely HOPES that You will actually choose to draw close, to approach the throne and know His arms are open wide, ready to receive you. There is no anger and there should be no fear. His grace is sufficient for our weakness, for our season of inability, for our lacking. He is enough, we don’t have to do anything but BE. 

I looked at my beautiful friend, so obviously exhausted from real life, and said “dearest Lis, It is Well.” 

We had been at that table for over four hours - the restaurant had long closed and virtually everyone had departed, but we still took a moment to cry together. It was profound and beautiful, a reminder that God orchestrates friendships. Some may last for only a season, while others are designed to be deep and significant for much longer. This space in my life - of somewhat alone and so very different than what I imagined - of walking in a reality that looks unlike that of those I love most has been hard. But let me tell you, it has allowed me to draw near to my King and to learn so much about His desire for us to abide with Him, in Him. And in that moment, in the midst of the chaos and hurry of Downtown Disney, the night grew still and the lights began to twinkle. I have absolutely no doubt that our Heavenly Father was REJOICING over us as He heard his sweet girls talking about Him, learning new ways to draw near, and perhaps finding hope once more. 

pain...and becoming...

Last night I sat across the table from one of my dearest friends J for the first time since returning from Africa. She looked at me eagerly and exclaimed, “So, are you going to tell me about William?”. I didn’t expect it to hit me like it did - but it meant more to me than she can ever know. Today is William day - the 13th of every month is. It’s the day we were gloriously reunited and then said our final goodbye. It’s the day I will hold dear as an answered prayer I wasn’t even really praying - but exceeded every expectation and reminded me that our good and faithful Father has hopes for us that make our hearts soar and are wildly better than the ones we dare to speak. Jenny was stepping INTO that excitement - and holding that hope with me - even months later, she is still running alongside. That kind of friendship is a gift that cannot be overstated.

Jenny has spoken a lot of truth over me through the years. J and I have been friends for a decade - we started laughing through life when I was only 22. We used to meet at Panera and allowed ourselves approximately 30 minutes of chatter before forced focus. We had notecards to create and books to read - so so many pages of books to read. We were intent on all things studying because we were both working on Masters degrees. Life looks a little different now and involves more television and movies and restaurants with food and wine or couches and yoga pants! Cheers. We have laughed many times over how she has seen me at my worst. She literally had to wipe for me once - but that is a story that will never make the blog (no alcohol involved folks). Last night she sat across the table and I watched tears brew in HER eyes (which admittedly I have not seen many times) as she talked about how far I have come in the last few years. 

While I was in Rwanda, my teammate and friend Jacob gave me a compliment that was rich and has stayed with me and I chose to share it with J. She has always been one of the safest places in my life. Jacob said something along the lines of - “Shell, it is incredible that I can catch you in pain from across the room and you choose to dab back or make a ridiculous face at me. But later you still let me come hug you.” The truth is, for many years, I didn’t let anyone into that space. I was so afraid of being defined as the headache girl that I hid the reality of how awful I felt from everyone. J was actually one of very few people who knew the truth of many agonizing days and was allowed to see the most painful moments. After I shared Jacob’s words, J confirmed - “Shell, I think he said something that is really true of you in the world now.” I would have never chosen a road riddled with pain every single day - but they are right - I don’t hide it any more. I have allowed people to see me in the midst of it. Laughing through it, standing strong and living fully despite it, giving my all to loving deeper and giving more regardless. It doesn’t define me, but it is undoubtedly part of my story. Perhaps a part I wouldn’t have chosen, but part I am learning more and more to be grateful for as I see how God has used it to mold and shape my heart towards His and how to love more like He does. 

At the close of our conversation about Rwanda, a few thoughts just kind of burst out - they are words I had never said before, but I needed to write them down, and I need to remember them. There is no doubt God called me to Rwanda. I knew that from the beginning. I did not know He had a William in store for me. And one of the most beautiful realities about William is that I did absolutely NOTHING to be loved by him. I didn’t say any perfect words - I couldn’t even speak his language. William simply loved me for me. He picked me out of the team of Americans. He held my hand. Rwanda was really hard, but exceptionally and extraordinarily and beautifully hard. It is kind of inexplicable. William taught me that I am lovable in a way I didn’t know before - and that I can love in a way I haven’t ever before. I can do really hard things - despite pain - in the midst of pain - even with people watching my pain - and I can be CHOSEN right there in the center of it just exactly as I am.  

Thank you Jesus, how can I ask for more. 

just for me...

Have you ever stood still in a moment you felt God orchestrated just for you? 

Last night, I went for a walk / run. I say walk first because there was significantly more walking than running; but because there was SOME running, leaving it out entirely feels like I am choosing not to give credit to the very hardest part of my “exercise” regimen! And yes, exercise always deserves quotation marks when I am involved. I can hear my friend J right now muttering something about how I have probably only worn those tennis shoes once before - and in this particular case she would be wrong - but historically she has been right. I probably did buy those sporty kicks for a bachelorette camping trip that got cancelled and replaced with a beach extravaganza - but that’s another story for another day - Shalina was happy in the long run, but those shoes never did get their moment of glory. They were purchased at Nordy’s Rack by the WRONG GIRL. Anyway, I digress. I went for a walk / run and while I typically choose to listen to a podcast, last night I put on some Christy Nockels Christmas. It doesn’t have to make sense to you - but my goodness that is some BEAUTIFUL music and since I got home from Africa there are only a few things that speak to my heart like “The Thrill of Hope”. There is this delightful little path near my house that I can run TO and then walk along and last night that is precisely what I did. Typically the path is crowded with people - and if I’m honest, there is a little shame in my game. They all zoom past me dressed just right, rocking their thigh-gap from years of that running-life. I, in stark contrast, am sporting my hot-pink monogrammed t-shirt thanks to Carrielove and Cheryl while walking…with a little pep in my step, but it’s not exactly the definition of vigor. Last night the path was virtually empty (perhaps due to the poor air quality from the fires blazing in Orange County and all those choosing to protect their lungs, but I knew I needed to commune with Jesus on that path, so out I went) and it was amazingly freeing - it was truly worship. I watched the sun setting against the beauty of trees swaying in the evening breeze and I actually CHOSE to run. As my feet pounded against the asphalt, tears welled up in my eyes. I came up to the round-about where the path loops back around and pulled out one of my earbuds. I could hear the birds chirping and watched as a squirrel ran right in front of me. The ocean spanned the distance before me as the music gently echoed “O Come Let Us Adore Him… We’ll Praise Your Name Forever…For You Alone Are Worthy, Christ the Lord.” I had to stop. Right there. I looked up to the heavens with my arms raised and I turned around. I was entirely alone - with Jesus - in the midst of a moment it felt He had divinely orchestrated just for me. We were together in the midst of all of nature dancing around us. I felt wrapped up and enchanted by my King. The words seemed to leap off my lips “all for me - just for me?!” It was awe-striking and breath-taking and life-giving. I’m pretty sure I walk / ran the second half of the path faster than the first (though I didn’t all of the sudden become a runner, let’s be real folks, these thighs STILL rub together - it wasn’t THAT kind of a miracle) and the song is still lingering in my heart - I will adore You - and praise Your name - for You are worthy! 

william...

i met you on monday, august 7. 2017 and i will never forget you. for the rest of my life, it will be my great honor and privilege to carry you in my heart and to daily lift you up to the King. you looked at me like no one ever has before, focused and fixed. you taught me to love deeper and more radically and i am so very grateful. 

that first night of camp when we were learning to dance - AFRICAN STYLE - your eyes locked on mine and you came and grabbed my hand, you led me onto the “dance floor” and you showed me your moves - you have rhythm like no one else. we laughed together as i attempted to copy your style and join in your triumphant praise. later that evening i showed you how the white girl can groove and you laughed at me. it was the most joyful beginning to a story i had no idea we were writing. in my journal i penned the words, “bring on so much more william.” 

throughout the week i could always find you smiling - captivating and full of radiance. everyone on my team was taken with you. i can look through pictures of our time in Rwanda and almost everyone has at least one picture with you. often times i would find your hand sneaking it’s way into mine as we walked to meals or be searching around for my backpack after serving all the children their lunch or dinner only to see it sitting on the chair next to you…you were reserving a place for me to sit beside you. we didn’t say many words to each other, but the exchange was profound and meaningful. 

thursday night was the birthday party and when it was your turn in the Photo Booth you wanted a picture with me. you could have picked anyone - you picked me - you chose me - you love me. friday as we handed out pictures in our small groups you sent a translator to ask for my picture. i laughed so hard that you didn’t want alisha and jacob - even though you love them too! you made me a green beaded bracelet on a rubber band that is now carefully stored in my jewelry box alongside my most valuable possessions. you slid it on my wrist and it felt like a treasure of insurmountable worth. i would have a piece of you to take home with me. 

saying goodbye to you after lunch that last day of camp was brutal - i knew it was coming and yet nothing could make watching you walk away any easier. we hugged for way too long and i rubbed the top of your head. there is something about the way you fit in my arms and the feeling of your hair against my chin as you nuzzle in. i did my best not to fall apart. i said ndagakunda “iloveyou” in kinyarwanda and then waved as you walked through the gates. i kept waving and watching you go. my heart had never been so full; my arms had never been so empty. 

saturday my team sat around the dinner table and i talked about you. i talked about what i would give to hold you just one more time. to feel you breathe on me and just rub your sweet head. to hold your cheeks in my hands and look deeply into your eyes. to pray over you. to say all the things i had in my heart. there was an emptiness i didn’t expect to know - i came anticipating facilitating ministry for THEM and yet God was so gracious and allowed me to experience the FULLNESS of His love through you. my william. we prayed together at the table that night for the campers that filled our heart and also left us a little bit broken and wrecked - for the glorious gift it would be to carry you all the days of our lives - and the longing for heaven that had just became real to us in entirely new ways. we all cried together, and missing you began to settle in.

sunday we went to church in the village - i looked at the faces of many other children and asked Bob about adopting you. you had my whole heart. i asked with a hint of laughter in my voice, but every ounce of me was serious - if he would have said we can start the paperwork today, i’m fairly certain i would be coming back to get you soon. but he said Rwanda is your home, your culture, the life you know, and the best place for you. i think i knew that already and knew we had said goodbye…i was just holding onto hope - i needed that. half of the team went to Pastor Joseph’s church that morning and the rest of us went to a church nearby. they kept saying we had to be somewhere at noon and i was so confused - our only plans for the afternoon were lunch…but at noon we loaded into the Jeep. as we approached Pastor Joseph’s church to pickup the other half of the team, we saw so many children in brightly colored shirts, but my eyes were fixed on one little boy wearing green running toward me - YOU. oh william. i will never forget the feeling that came over me as i desperately tried to get out of that car to hug you. tears streamed down both of our faces as you ran into my arms. it was one of the most beautiful and amazing moments of my life thus far. i didn’t have very long with you that day - it was probably only 10-minutes in total, but they were God-breathed. we sang God is so good “Imana ni nziza” together and i prayed over you. you wiped my tears. i held your sweet face in my hands and told you God has GREAT and MIGHTY plans for you and to live with UNENDING HOPE. i told you i would never stop praying for you and i would carry you all the days of my life. you gave me your phone number on a folded up piece of paper and we took pictures that i will cherish for a lifetime. and then, once again we said goodbye. 

one month ago today we said our first hello. and my william, i still carry you.

I just didn't know...

There are so many things I didn’t know when I left for Rwanda. I didn’t know the view of hills absolutely covered with homes would look so awe-strikingly beautiful, that the scent of burning trash would quickly become familiar and even welcoming, that driving on dusty roads where traffic goes every which direction would feel adventurous and I would even be totally at peace in the hands of our fully capable drivers navigating even the most treacherous holes and giving us reason to cheer. I didn’t know I would be so warmly welcomed by everyone, that their joy that would be so vibrant and rich - on display for me to see - and ultimately find bubbling up from within the deepest recesses of my heart. I didn’t know that watching them sing and dance in worship would make me smile until my cheeks ached - that perhaps rejoicing actually does make your feet begin to move and you almost can’t help but clap as you join in their symphony with the total outpouring of your soul to Jesus. I didn’t know my heart would be broken, but through those tears He would rebuild and restore desperate pieces of me and begin painting new pictures of wholeness I hadn’t known before. I didn’t know a picture frame with my team in white sunglasses would be such a significant gift to the children at camp - that their faces would literally light up and they would SHOUT with excitement upon receiving them! I didn’t know a simple balloon game could fill a room with so much laughter or that we could have played it 100 times and it would have been just as good on that final round! I didn’t know throwing them a birthday party including cupcakes and sunglasses of their very own would bring me to tears because the celebration was just so sweet. I didn’t know I would be asked to pray a blessing over our 100 campers, nor did I know the honor and privilege that moment held as I looked around that circle of children, holding hands, a most beautiful sight to behold and Scripture just seemed fitting. “The Lord bless you and keep you and make His face to shine upon you and be gracious unto you. The Lord lift up the light of His countenance upon you and give you His peace. Amen”. I didn’t know I would be completely overcome by the special needs orphanage - I knew it would be hard - but I didn’t realize the sparkle that would be present in the eyes of those children with just the tiniest bit of interaction. That pushing a soccer ball around in front of sweet Jason who was wheelchair bound would make him come alive or that dancing in the sunlight while singing “and I’m so happy, so very happy, I’ve got the love of Jesus in my heart” would make Monica wiggle and giggle with what I can only describe as glee. I didn’t know leaving them behind in that orphanage would feel so hallowing - that no amount of supplies left to help with their care would ever make up for the fact that the children themselves couldn’t come with us. I didn’t know we would have the chance to visit the pediatric ward of the hospital in Kigali - that it would quicken the heartbeat of my dear teammate Alisha who is a nurse - and then promptly crush her as she realized how much need truly exists within those walls and curtains. I didn’t know I would see children in an intensive care unit and hand them tootsie rolls, a meager offering as they endured  pain and suffering far beyond my comprehension - and yet even still, that candy seemed a far greater gift than I could have known. I didn’t know I would legitimately ask about adopting a little boy, perhaps with a smidge of laughter in my tone, but a lot of serious in my heart - that in only a matter of days, everything would look and feel so very different. I didn’t know I would leave Rwanda with new definitions for gratitude and fullness and love. That I would come home and constantly check the time in Rwanda - because somehow my heart really would beat in two places. I just didn’t know…

notes from Camp...

Camp brought so much MORE than any of us expected. We doubled the number of children this year and invited 100 in total, it was worth it on absolutely every level, but it was MORE work, MORE exhaustion, MORE activities, MORE chaos, and MORE time to fill. It was also MORE joy, MORE enthusiasm, MORE leaning on Christ, MORE hearing their stories, MORE heartbreak, and MORE glory to God for great things He has done in expanding the Kingdom one child at a time! It was incredible! Beautiful and remarkable! I am still really at a loss for words to truly describe it. There is no way to truly take you there, but I will try...

The days at camp were long but as the end of the week approached it felt far too short. In years past, there has always been a lot of down time or hours during the day where Pastor Joseph who works with the churches in the Bugasera district to determine the children who are most vulnerable and invite them to camp, took responsibility for the children. This year, our team - including our six INCREDIBLE interpreters who truly became dear friends and our Rwandan family as they astounded us with their vibrant interactions and engagement in every single activity - had the kids from 7:30am when we served breakfast until just after 9:00pm when they were forced to go take showers and get in bed. 

>> DETOUR… breakfast was the same every single day - essentially two pieces of white bread and a hard boiled egg (I always got the smallest one thanks to my man Jacob!) and then when you got to your table you could add some salt and/or pepper (a whole lot of salt and pepper if you’re Schotty Schotborgh) at your own risk. The kids loosened the salt by blowing into the tops of the shakers with all their might, which is actually counterproductive as it gets the salt all wet with spit making it clump up and therefore harder to get out - but that’s pretty hard to explain when you speak English and they speak Kinyarwanda and the whole thing is actually super funny. One member of my team didn’t figure out the salt shaker happenings until Friday morning - our last day at camp…yikes bikes. AND WE ARE BACK >>

When the kids finally headed to bed, we met as a team to regroup on the day, ensure we were on track for the next day, and get the necessary supplies organized. That is also when we decided to spend at least an hour or so worshipping together with the translators (who can all sing and allowed us to join in their haunting harmonies to the beautiful name of Jesus - we relished every opportunity to praise Him together) or playing rousing games of UNO or SPOONS alongside consuming copious quantities of candy. I think we brought at least 15-lbs. of candy to share with our Rwandan family! I typically fell into bed somewhere between 2:00 and 3:00am knowing my roommate Erica’s alarm would sound at 5:30am - homegirl loved her the jerry can shower but THAT is an undertaking all in itself and we had to be in the hallway for our morning kick-off meeting and prayer no later than 7:05…or at least that was always the aim! Oh the memories that were made in that hallway or in our rooms late in the night - Emily falling asleep browsing through her pictures-finger firmly planted on the shutter button, dried apples and pears for days, questionably murky remnant water bottles we thought might contain some Miralax- hope no one drank those on accident, rubber bands flying through the air as we took apart 100 freshly made tie-dyed t-shirts so they could be taken to the sweet ladies in the village who would wash them the following morning-envisioning their thought processes as they saw these strange shirts that made absolutely no sense to them, scenes of neck-pillows and teammates adamantly claiming they were awake when we ALL knew the truth-I had woken them up with my rousing knocks on their doors just seconds before. We really had it all. Our team was virtually never lacking for laughter. God was gracious and so very faithful. 

I have never been more proud as a team leader than I was at camp. I loved watching joy emanate from my teammates - I loved watching them light up and ooze Jesus - it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever gotten to stand back and see. I only had seconds at a time to behold it - but it always overtook me. Each member of my team is so uniquely gifted and they poured their hearts into those kids throughout the days we had together. They shared their stories without holding back, choosing to be vulnerable, transparent, and honest - allowing the dynamic ways God has worked in their lives to be a powerful message communicating hope and the promise of a great future for each child standing before us. They chose to draw near knowing it would be short and heartbreaking in the end. They sang and danced and played ridiculous games and also found moments to steal away for intimate and tender conversations where tears were shed. I remember one particular meal where there was no translator at my table so communication with the kids was virtually impossible outside of muraho (which means hello) and a murakoze (thank you) and the occasional bon appetit (many of the kids spoke a smidge of french). We made faces at each other, smiled, and played some hand slapping games around the table - and then Gilbert came and sat down. He is one of the caretakers for the boys. He dove right into conversation in his rather exceptional though still limited English. He told me that prior to our arrival, he didn’t believe God cared about the African people, he felt they were abandoned and forgotten by the Creator. But since we had come, since the “white man” had shown such great love from the Father, he was now convinced that God did have love for his people. That our kindness and care would never be forgotten and would be a reminder that they are seen, and he would never been alone again. He must have said thank you over 40 times in our dinner that day. And THAT is how camp worked. You would go from laughter and pure silliness to gut-wrenching almost hallowing tears in an instant. Realizing over and over that God was working far beyond anything you could have ever imagined. Smiles can be tangibly felt at camp. Hearts are changed as you look deeply into the eyes of another and say almost nothing. God moves and breathes His love into spaces you can never truly grasp. Being there to witness it, to be part of it, to literally see His presence on display, it was an honor extraordinaire; it was a privilege I will forever count amongst the greatest of my entire life. 

beginning to tell the stories of Rwanda...

I have been home from Rwanda for almost five days and every ounce of me is longing to be back. I want to be walking the cobblestone roads and looking out at the endless sky filled with roofs covered by sheetmetal, mountains standing tall in the distance. The view of Rwanda is breathtaking if you just take it all in - but when you zoom in on the details, you begin to see the devastating poverty and desperate need - the broken glass that litters those streets and the dirty clothes that are hanging on the starving children standing before you. Jerry cans that announce water will have to be gathered from gutters and bicycles carry massive quantities of eggs and produce from the city to the villages. There is so much strength readily on display, though I would guess they don’t see that - this is ordinary life, this is survival. 

I expected Rwanda to wreck me - but I had no idea it would fill me to the fullness of His joy and leave my heart EXPLODING with gladness. I have had a difficult time finding words to express how deeply moved and forever changed I am because of all I have seen and experienced in Rwanda. I knew leading the team was a calling - I knew He chose me and I was walking in obedience by faith in saying yes; but I didn’t have any idea of all He truly had in store for me upon arriving to love the least of these in Africa. My heartbeat will never be the same. 

I want to share all the stories, I could spend hours recounting the incredible and amazing of His work in the land of a thousand hills. So perhaps over the next few days or weeks I will share a little at a time. I hope you’ll journey wth me - perhaps you’ll be changed as you learn of all God did in and through my team.

Today I’ll take you back to the very beginning of camp… 

We arrived around 4:00pm and the children were already there. We saw a few of their faces peeking around corners, but they were taking showers and freshening up as many had traveled long distances, some walking several hours to get to camp. We found our rooms and began unloading supplies and then got the alert that they were ready for us. I was entirely unprepared for how quickly I would be impacted and struck by the 100 beautiful faces we would soon call our friends. We walked into the room where we would share all our meals together and they were lined up in four rows looking at us with eager anticipation. I was in tears instantly. So many of them had familiar faces as we had seen their pictures prior to our arrival. We were asked to introduce ourselves and then one by one each camper stood up and told us his or her name and their favorite food - most said chips (which are french fries) and a few said rice or beans or meat. There is no designation of type of meat in Africa - it’s all just meat. We became aware of how spoiled we are and how much abundance we live in quite quickly that day. 

We served the children dinner - an African buffet with rice, spaghetti, bananas, chips, beans, some sort of white potato / yam / really interesting looking root vegetable, some green leaves that had been seriously cooked down, saucey that covered everything on the plate and then the meat. The final stop at the table was a huge plate of onions, some fruit, and THEN the fiesta - the largest variety of Fanta you’ve ever seen in your life - the treat of all treats for our kids. We served all the children heaping plates of food - more food than I could have ever eaten in a single sitting - and they devoured every scrap. They raised their eyebrows to say yes to wanting something and shook their finger with fury and said “oh-yeah” for no. Those lifted brows will forever be one of my favorite things about our kids. You can say a lot without uttering a word. 

After dinner it was time for “African singing and dancing” - a sound I pray I can always hear in my heart - it is the beat of pure joy - a kind of worship I had never known before, but will absolutely NEVER forget. With gusto and fervor, the children sang out and ultimately erupted into dancing. One by one they extended their little hands towards us, asking us to join in and we were swallowed up into their circle. We began to attempt to stomp and follow along as we worshipped in one accord. I watched as huge smiles spread across the faces of each member of my team - there was no doubt we were tasting heaven - we learned in new ways that THIS is what rejoicing together looks like - THIS is the fullness of His presence and we were relishing every second.

Far too soon it was time for bed but our hearts were already growing - we were already learning to love more than we thought possible and camp didn’t even OFFICIALLY begin until the next morning. We still really had NO IDEA of all God had in store, but He was stirring, and we were now ready to run with endurance the race marked out for us. In only moments, those kids were inscribed on our hearts and we had been forever changed. With only a glimmer behind and so much lying ahead, God had captured me and written Rwanda into the very fiber of my being. Nothing would ever be quite the same…

really?!?!

people keep saying your 30’s are pure magic…well let me just say i haven’t experienced that. maybe that is true for people who are married and making babies like factories in their 30’s. that seems to be everyone around me. do you know that over the weekend i went to dinner with friends eagerly awaiting twins - then brunched with friends who had their little bud yesterday - then went to a baby shower for a friend expecting in November. that’s real. that was ONE weekend. that’s my life. welcome to my 30’s - if you wanna call that magic, well name me Sparkle and let me glitz you with some fairy dust - i’ve got loads of it.