Short-term Goodbyes

I put it off as longs as I could. So now as I sit here with photos downloading, I wrap one hand around a final Old Factory mug filled with a hazelnut latte and with the other hand I pick up a pen in search for the words to help me process my week.

The biggest reason I have been avoiding my pen and journal is because I know it will hurt. But I pick them both up today because I also know it will help. In many ways that sums up my Spring break Service Partnership to small town Kentucky. Picking up 100 pound dry wall was not easy, but hanging a ceiling together helped bring the rooms closer to being finished. Picking up (and scraping the heck out of) tiled floors hurt our hands, yet it helped in restoring a historic school building. Embracing each member of a family I came to love as my own in a long hug hurt because of the goodbye that would follow, but it helped to remembered the laughs we shared throughout the week. Flipping through pictures hurts with an aching to return to the people and places, but helps as I can process and remember the ways God moved throughout the week.


As a junior, this was my third spring break spent serving on a team with fellow college students. Including my trip to Spain, this was my sixth trip of the sorts since eighth grade, never once returning to the same place or same people. To be honest, I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with short term trips. The list of pro's and con's is exhausting as I search for what good can come from a week's worth of work, relationship building and sweet tea drinking. It begs me to wonder if I am doing more harm or good. The problem goes beyond mission trips but extends to camping ministry as well. As I continue to study ministry, both youth and missions, I search for how to do both well. Do I go on SSP's, SOS's, mission trips, and work at camp to self-serve knowing that it is a way for me to experience God and his blessings?

                

2011

2012

Then I think of the week I spent with seven other college students and an advisor alongside those who bring God's kingdom to their community on the daily. The strength we had when we worked together was able to accomplish more than anyone expected. Stories shared by those older and wiser have inspired me more than I could ever express. Endless summer nights spent around a fire sharing honestly were life changing. I imagine back to my first time packed in a 15 passenger van on our way to Queens, NY and the endless amounts of laughter and bottle caps and the beginning of some great relationships. Each experience has taught me more than I expected and each led to the next, and the next, and to places I cannot fathom yet.

2017

Serving God is not about spending a Spring break immersed in a different community and ministry. No, these trips are just reminders of the daily choice I have to serve God in all that I do, to humbly learn the most unexpected things form the most unexpected of people, and to love others only because we are first loved by God. Maybe some day I will go back to Kentucky (God willing) to see those I came to love -maybe that is next year, or in a couple years or maybe not on earth again. Maybe we will meet again in heaven. It is then we will proclaim together how great is our God. 

My team member said it best when he said, "Tears weren't shed as we said goodbye because we hung a ceiling and painted walls, but because of the love we had for one another." How I remember the weeks spent experiencing God on the mountain top will continue to influence my daily walk alongside Jesus. God is at work in the world, and what a joy it is to catch a glimpse.

Monkey See, Monkey Do

Lately,
I am that dumb monkey in the parable, unwilling to let go.

You see, like my mother taught me, I have a bowl of M&M's constantly stalked in my room. Until recently I kept the colorful delights in a tall wide mouth mason jar - cute I know. Every time the jar fell below half, my hand could not reach in and pull out a satisfying amount without getting stuck. In the middle of dilemma I had the choice to either loose half of the delicious handful or think skinny and attempt to yank my hand free goodies and all. So I finally got "smart" and just kept refilling the jar so that I could skim the little suckers off the top. However, soon I got tired of doing that, because let's face it I'm lazy. I soon stumbled upon my equally cute dish - that a lovely friend gave to me - with a perfect width for a healthy handful of daily (okay hourly) chocolate.

I have been holding tight to comfort inside a glass jar labeled "summer plans".  With an aching in my heart I knew I could not return to my summer home for a 5th year. so I began to wonder what this summer would hold. December came and went as did my chance to desperately return to the familiar, and still no flashing sign, no golden path, not even a whisper in the wind of what purpose this summer would have. God grew quiet, and so did I. Images of laughing campers, the smiles of a community, the beaten path of a pilgrim, the sights of a new culture cause me to long to return. Friends talked of their plans, new adventures of marriage, leadership roles, and trips. All the while my inner jealousy escalating as I remain faithful to God calling me onward, but to what?


The off chance of a weekend at home was my final attempt to hold on to comfort. I have grown to love the calm moments with my parents at the same time growing more eager to be out on my own. The words "Summer Study Abroad" jump out of my mouth as I recalled a subject line of one email  to my mother. As I waded through the flood of emails only to learn I had to apply in the next three days I began to wonder if my answer was near.

Finally my heart caught the beat of my Father as God said "let go" as I read the word pilgrimage. If I had not let go to the comfort in the jar I could not experience the life of freedom that is only found outside of the glass walls.

While it is not an answer to my whole summer, it is an exciting first step. You think after walking for seven days straight I would have understood that following Jesus is about putting just one foot in front of the other, one at a time, day after day. The cadence of a pilgrimage has become the beat of my heart as it longs to be tuned to God's. It's a humbling walk.

So I return to the path. The worn and ancient way. Pack in tow and laces tied tight, I am eager for the chance to return to the rhythm of footsteps on a dusty path - yet a new path. Letting go of the familiar tasty M&M's, I open up my hands to receive even greater treats my God has planed.

As a part of the Northwestern Summer Study Abroad I will be traveling for two weeks with four other student and a professor to Assisi, Italy and walk the way of Francis of Assisi to Rome where we are blessed to have the opportunity to attend an audience with Pope Francis.