Tired from the day's activities, I grab some fruit and step out onto the back porch to relieve myself of the stuffy house.  The beautiful sun catches my eye as its slowly begins to set in the west.  Tonight is beautiful, hot and slightly uncomfortable, but beautiful.  As I watch the neighbor man play with his kids in the back yard, I hear one of my favorite sounds--the clock tower.  It hits me...Time is running out!  This world is coming to an end and there are still many who have no hope.  There are many father's who don't care about their children and lots of kids who don't know their parents.  What am I doing?
Originally that wasn't what I was going to think about when I stepped outside to catch some fresh air, but that's what He brought to my mind.

Tonight I am so grateful for my family.  My father, mother, and six [almost seven] younger brothers.  Who would I be without them to care for me?
My mind also goes to the journey in which I am about to embark.  Tomorrow brings new experiences.  The next three weeks will hold...well, what will they hold?  This trip has been on my mind for the past couple months and I am very excited to see what all God will do in my life!  It isn't a coincident that I am going to help lead a group of kids from station to station.  He has a plan and I want to be willing to be who He wants me to be and do what He wants me to do!

I would appreciate your prayers as I go to LA.  I am very excited but also a little nervous.  I have to say that I haven't experienced something like this before.
[And if you think about it, pray for my family...they need prayers too! :) ]

the [dust] & its [memories]

     As my dry, dirty fingers plunged into the icy water, my mind began to open the files of memories from days gone by.  All of the precious moments from my life in northern Minnesota began to flood my memory.  Why, it doesn’t seem like it was that long ago that I played with these toys or unwrapped this precious gift, but the dusty rag in my hand was pure evidence of the years these objects had spent in storage. 

     I fought back tears as I went from wiping one dusty cabinet to the next.  Life was so different back then.  Life is so different now.  Thoughts of regret and anticipation flooded my mind as I once again plunged the dirty rag into the icy water.  What would my future hold?  Would there be yet another move and more sorting and packing?  Would my friends be left behind and new ones made elsewhere?  Or would my ‘home’ remain in Southeast Asia for years to come?  Would I continue to wish for someone to understand my past?  Or would I be ok with friends who have known me for a few chapters of my life?

     Then my mind went to my family, the ones who have been there the past seventeen [almost eighteen] years, and I thanked God for blessing me with amazing parents and the six men in my life that I’m proud to call MY brothers.  I really couldn’t have asked for something better!

     But all of that didn’t take away the pain of the friend I had always dreamed of—a sister who would be my bestie and know my life story.  Even though it hurt, and still hurts, I know that my story was written by God, not a scriptwriter for Hollywood or a composer of some earthly song, but a Father Who created the universe.  He knows my story from the end to the beginning.  He understands my jumbled words when I feel like they don’t make sense.  He knows every thought before I even think it and He understands my needs without me even having to explain them.

     Then, once again, the tired little girl looks up at the beautiful sky and whispers a prayer of gratitude to her Abba Father for everything, even when it doesn’t make sense!