a letter to the elizabeth of 2009

dear elizabeth of 2009,

remember this. remember the anticipation you wake with every morning. remember how you have to tell yourself, "youcandoit...5 more days [of work], 4 more days, 3 more days. youcandoit." then you go home for a week. then africa.

...africa. the word even sounds different to you now. it rolls off your tongue gently, with the knowledge that you'll be there soon. it swirls in your brain multiple times a day. it is a word that - for now - represents waiting, planning, a culmination of faith, big visions coming into fruition. it will sound different to you in january when you are there, and it is a word that will represent hope and joy and change for the rest of your life.

remember the lists you make as if you can really prepare yourself for this. remember the multiple phone calls with your partner in all things adventurous about the millions of small details that you get to take care of. remember the way you started packing 3 weeks before you leave, because you are just that excited.

remember the people who contributed their time, money, and prayers to make this happen. remember the first check you got in july from someone who believes in you - before you even bought your plane ticket . remember the girl who met you, heard about your trip, and wrote you a check all within 15 minutes because she has a heart for orphans. remember how you got a check in the mail from family friend, and the next day your sister - in - law asked if you could find people to help her pay for the shoes she found wholesale. remember how every child you meet in africa will have a pair of shoes because of a check and a phone call. remember the little girl who is already wearing her red wristband and prays for your safety [from wasps and bees!] every night. remember the sweet woman from church who doesn't know you very well but still handed you cash in an envelope, and remember your friend from church who dropped a check in the mail just this week and is now paying for your expenses in country. remember there are more stories than you can even begin write down.

most of all, remember the One who made you for this. who chose you for this. remember that He designed you . remember that He has given you everything you need. remember that He deserves ALL of the credit, ALL of the glory, ALL of the fame. remember that He loves you and that sumission to authority=a lifetime of mind blowing adventures.

love,
elizabeth of 2008

the exchange of the truth for a lie

I resisted coming here, to open the harbors that guard my heart

(Jeremiah 23:24).

Abide with me, fast falls the even tide.

This darkness deepens, Lord with me abide.

And what does not flow freely from You?

Am I convicted of what I say?

Forgive me of this pride that knows Your redemption

yet shamelessly walks away.

And now my life ebbs away.

Night pierces my bones, and these gnawing pains never rest.

And how I long for that day (when I will return to ashes and dust)

(Job 30:17-19).

If my steps turn from the path, or if my heart has been led by my eyes, or if my hands have been defiled, then may others reap what I have sown

(Job 31:7-8).

Better that I dwell in the house of the Lord who upholds all those who fall

than reap this harvest of a life waged in the flesh.

And what do I gain but the exchange of the truth for a lie?

And a heart conditioned not to feel, callused by the nature of my pride?

And now my life ebbs away.

- Anathallo, A Song for Christine

like a thousand miles of fire

one year ago:
on a plane heading to Tennessee. into the unknown. 12 days of "i don't know."

"What do you do in New York?"
"I don't know."

for the first time in 10 months i didn't want to leave new york. i was afraid i would miss something. i finally had friends. we were about to move in together. but i was excited about going home. about leslie's show. about preparing for/helping with REVO. about spending several days in nashville with ellie. about my heart being at rest for the first time in too long.
i wanted to be in new york. i wanted to be in nashville. thus perpetuating the tug of war in my heart...home vs...um? home?

i went back to TN with zero expectations and You blew me away.

anniversaries - dates, i guess - are important to me. i like to measure time that way. i like to measure growth that way. i love to look back at the last year or two and compare them to now.

now:
new job. the friends i didn't want to leave? some of my best. my heart is still. my mind is not confused. i am content - not necessarily comfortable, but content. my relationships have changed, but only because they needed to.
now:
i'm okay with not knowing what's next. i still plan, but plans change. i love my life. some things are still not reconciled, but You asked me to focus on You. I try. I fail, but still try.

I can't even fathom what's ahead. But today, I'm going to go to Brooklyn with my friends. I'm going to wear my cowboy boots with some leggings and pretend to be 'brooklyn cool.' i'm going to be content. we're going to go to thrift stores and laugh and talk and laugh some more.
and next year, i'm going to look back on april 12 and remember how good it was, and how good it will be.

but most of all, how good You are.