I Like T-Shirts and Orphans.

I like T-shirts.

and I like Jason*. A whole lot.

Read about how he captured my heart here.

Jason is severely hearing impaired. SCH is currently working toward getting him a set of four channel hearing aids.

The $500 price tag is not a small amount, but by no means unreachable.

Do you know about the wonderful organization Project Charity? 

They are a family run company that sells a different (and always cool) T-Shirt series each week, with a percentage of the profits going to different charities around the world.

In 2012 the owners adopted their son Paul from an orphanage in Easter Europe. That experience opened their eyes. Seeing children neglected in cribs and nearly starving made them feel powerless. But discovering people and organizations that work tirelessly for those children gave them hope.
They wanted to help, and Project Charity was their response.

This week's cause is to outfit my darling Jason with those hearing aids he so desperately needs.

Jason is a wonderful kid. and who doesn't love sweet T-Shirts?

This fundraiser ENDS MONDAY.

So buy a T-Shirt today, and help raise money toward that purchase.

Because I love Jason with my whole heart.

I mean, who wouldn't?... Just look at that smile. 

Interested in sponsoring this beautiful, hilarious, loving boy monthly? Click HERE! 

BUY A T-SHIRT!

BUY A T-SHIRT!

BUY A T-SHIRT!

BUY A T-SHIRT!

BUY A T-SHIRT!

Rainy Days.

I have a tiny hole in the sole of my left boot.

Every day this week I have come home with damp socks. 

It has been a rainy week. 

Rainy days are funny things. 

Rainy days make me want to curl up in a sweatshirt, and forget the world. They make me want to retreat to my sofa, under a soft quilt, with a cup of coffee in my hands. Rainy days leave me sighing, without really knowing why. 

It has been a rainy week. 

I lost someone this week. It wasn't entirely unexpected, that is, I think I've been preparing for this for a long time.... but I still didn't really see it coming. Not this week. Not this month. Not this year. 

When the sadness and the cold, and the relentless rain crept in, I wanted to run away. 

I wanted to be anywhere but here. I wanted to ignore the rain around me. 

But sometimes you need rainy weather. You need rainy weather, to remind you how comfy that sweatshirt is, and how warm that cup of coffee can feel in your hands. 

You need hard days, to remind you just how blessed you really are. 

Thank you friends for sweet messages, and acts of love. 

Thank you Hannah for knowing that chocolate mends a broken heart.

Thank you Candace for knowing coffee warms the soul.

Thank you Joe, for not letting me run away. 

Thank you to my wonderful Monday night girls for praying over me. 

Thank you Ryan, for letting me know you.

"And not only this, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that they bring about perseverance."

Romans 5:3

Breathe. You are blessed.

It has been one month since I last posted. Its not that I my life has been void of interesting activity, or that God hasn't been working in me. Believe me, he has. But every time I sit down at my laptop, I hover my fingers over the keys, and... nothing.

I should be desperately typing away. Telling you that I am crushingly overwhelmed with just how blessed I am. But the words have not been coming.

I am in such strong, intentional, loving community. I am being poured into by wonderful women from my church; strong, beautiful women of God that are guiding me on paths that they have already walked.

I am serving with a group of interns and community group leaders that are actively pursuing God. A team that prays fervently together, for each other, for our groups, our church, our campus. I am continually encouraged by the way our leadership loves each other, and how intensely I see my friends chasing after what God has in store for this community.

Jesus is showing me again, and again my worth, showing me that it is in him. I am being shown what it looks like to be in a relationship that is God centered. To be led by a man that speaks truth over my insecurities and loves the Lord far more than he loves me. 

God is opening doors, or at least cracking them a little, for some different options for the next few years. Options to serve, options to grow.

Those surface level statements don't even begin to touch on what God has been doing in my life in the past month. So why can't I  say more? Why can't I write? Why can't I figure out in my head what's really going on? 

I think the answer lies somewhere at the bottom of my heart, the middle of my throat, and the pit of my stomach. 

When I think too much about all of the ways I am blessed I clench. I clench my fists, and I clench my heart. I can feel my heart tighten, right at the bottom, and ache. Things are going well. I am blessed. I am blessed. I am comfortable. So I am also waiting for the ball to drop. I find myself holding so tightly, to all of these good things. So tightly that I don't even get to enjoy them to thier fullest potential, becasue surely so many blessings cannot come without heartache.

I also find myself looking to the future with confusion. Which causes me to clench my fists tighter still. 

Is India in my future? Is it God's plan for me to to be in India, or do I selfishly want to be back there in that beautiful country, holding my sweet kids in my arms again? Was God leading me down a path of service?

Those questions get caught in my throat. They're questions I don't fully know how to articulate. Some I don't want the answer to, because I'm scared of what it may be, and other I'd rather just figure out and answer for myself. 

I've spent so much time the past month or so figuring things out. I've done so much planning and re-planning. "Well if I do this at this point in my life, I can do this, or if I go here now, then I can do that other thing later." I've seen the opportunities that are out there and want all of them.

Which puts my stomach in knots. The only thought more exhausting than how can I do all of these things, is the thought that I might not do all of them. My wanderer's soul gets anxious just at the thought of being still too long.

God is pouring out so many beautiful things in my life right now, but the more he pours, the more I find myself slowly curling into a ball, trying not let any of them escape. I am living with my hands closed so tightly. I'm not breathing. I'm not resting. I'm not enjoying.

God, open my hands. Teach me to breathe. To rest.

I tell my friend Kyle that he gets stuck in his own head too much. That he over thinks things, and causes himself much unneeded grief. Which is exactly where I am. Stuck in my own head, trying to figure out for myself what the next steps need to be, when all I need to do is rest in the good things God is doing. I just need to open my hands and let God do what he wants.

A friend once beautifully explained to me what living with open hands really looks like. While it is easy to open our hands and say Yes Jesus, I'll take those blessing, thanks, I then usually find myself closing them again, waiting until the right time to open them once more. I open my hands to what I think God wants, but I don't keep them that way. Living life with them open means that they are always ready to receive what God wants to give, which sounds great. But it also means that they remain vulnerable, that God can take things from us at any time, which sounds terrifying.

I've said it before, I'm the kind to coast, do well in my walk with Jesus, then suddenly fall on my face. Hard. Living life with hands held open, doesn't offer us a lot of opportunity to catch ourselves when we fall. I have to make the statement that I trust that God will catch me, that his arms will be around me before I hit the ground.

I'm trying to trust that God knows what he's doing. I'm trying to take the good things that he's placed in my life lately and be thankful for them. Be thankful for them without worrying about how it will all possibly work out.

I need to breathe. I am blessed.

I need to stop and just be thankful.

Thankful for coffee and friends and scripture. For new friendships, and old ones. For community that grows me. For late nights at the church office, and early mornings at the farmers market. I'm thankful for God fulfilling promises, and for times that he keeps me in the dark and causes me to be patient.

Smiles I'm missing: Melanie

I titled my last post Smiles I'm missing: Palmer.

Because I miss his sweet little grin, his cute teeth that are just a little too big for that precious face. I miss the face that smiled up at me. I miss the wonderful little boy that smile belongs to.

But I also titled it so, because I find myself yearning for the smiles that I know I'm missing out on. For the moments of joy that I don't get to be a part of. For the laughter and the happiness. I know the wonderful kids I fell in love with are finding moments of ridiculous joy everyday, with the long term volunteers, with each other. Joy in the little things, joy from the big things, and joy when everything in the world suggests that they shouldn't be happy. That knowledge brings my heart peace, but it makes me miss them that much more. It makes me ache to be part of the moments of joy.

I don't think anyone at the home filled my days with as much laughter and as many smiles as my beautiful, beautiful Melanie.

Melanie

Sweet Melanie captured my heart quickly. She has the cutest giggle you'll ever hear. Really. And she is always laughing. Whether its at her ayah's saree being dragged across her face tickling her, or just someone saying her name with the right tone, its hilarious. No one's there to be funny? No worries, Melanie cracks herself up just fine. She finds so much joy in the world around her. 

I spent some of the sweetest moments with Melanie, and many of my favorite memories of the home came from simply sitting at the foot of her bed, and laughing with that funny girl. 

Time with Melanie also often left me facing the hard truth that I am not enough. Melanie's hypnotic laugh was easily replaced with tears when she realized it was time you to leave her. At the end of each day when I left for home Melanie cried and cried. It was in simple moments like this that I was really crippled by the meaning of these kid's label as orphans. That people rushing suddenly into her life, and leaving just as quickly is her normal.

Melanie is a beautiful, loving, hilarious little girl. She has deep shining eyes and the longest eyelashes you'll ever see. She wants nothing more than to sit next to you and laugh and be tickled and played with. I ache to see the smiles that I know fill her every day. I ache to hear that laugh. 

Melanie is partially sponsored, but still needs her sponsorship completed.

Read more about Melanie here.

Smiles I'm missing: Palmer

Every day since I've been home, I've woken up aching to be back in India. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wonder what the beautiful little faces that I fell in love with are doing. I see updates on the SCH page or facebooks of the long term volunteers still there and my heart flips in my chest. Each day I pray for SCH, and for the children there by name. 

Being away from them, being so very far away from them is harder than I thought it would be. I desperately want to be back in India, with those kids, and I'm working on figuring out how soon I can be. In the mean time though, there is so much help that can be given from right where we are. 

The children at SCH need sponsorship. You can sponsor a child completely or partially. They need sponsorship for food, water, diapers, medicines, surgeries and schooling. Things that every child needs. Sponsorship also helps the children have new clothes, new toys and field trips. Fun things in their lives.  Things that every child deserves.

SCH isn't funded in an ongoing way by any large grand foundation, church, or company. Their funding comes almost entirely from caring individuals. You can read more about donating to SCH here.

If you go to the SCH link Meet our Children you can read about each child and see their smiling faces. Please go read about some of the amazing kids there. They each have a story, and each is beautiful.

Over the next week or two I want to tell you all about the little lives that impacted me the most while I was in India. Children that are still in need of either partial or full sponsorship. Read their stories, see their beautiful little faces, pray for them, and if you feel led, help sponsor these wonderful kids. 

Palmer

Palmer snuck into my heart. I didn't really expect to fall in love with him, but when I realized I was, it was too late. I was head over heels. At first he's kind of shy. He'll step back and let the more rambunctious boys fight for attention, but once the commotion calms down a little you realize he's already at your side, tugging on the bottom of your shirt.

Palmer's favorite place to be was on my back. On my last day at the home he kept his little arms around my neck, his feet wrapped around my waist, while I walked around and said all of my goodbyes. Man, I miss that sweet sweet smile, and his tight bear hugs.

Palmer is sweet and gentle. He loves to color and play games. He will giggle and smile and hold your hand. I find myself missing this little charmer every single day. 

Read a little more about Palmer here 

Pray for this little guy, and don't forget, he still needs sponsorship!

What my Best Friend's Engagement has taught me

A little over a week ago I was so incredibly blessed to see the engagement of two people I love dearly. I watched Dustin, one of the best, most Godly men I know get down on one knee and ask Jen, one of my very best friends in the world, to marry him. I'd be lying if I said I didn't tear up.

They have each found the right person. More importantly, they are the right people for each other.

Over the past year I've been figuring out what it means, at this point in my life and in my walk, to have a successful relationship. God has been putting couples and scriptures, and stories continuously in my path. Couples who's relationships are centered in Christ, that are beautiful because of it. Dustin and Jen have been a big part of showing me what that looks like, what it looks like for a Godly man to pursue a woman. What it looks like for a man to be strong in his faith and for a couple to grow in that together.

I recently listened to a fantastic series by Andy Stanley, The New Rules for Love, Sex, and Dating. One of the episodes focuses on "The Right Person Myth." When I find the right person, everything will be okay. Or if I can just find the right person, I'll be happy. Today we spend so much time focused on what that other person needs to be.

For me, he needs to be a believer. No question. He needs to be a traveler, an adventurer. I want someone that will try new things with me. Ultimately, I want someone that will love me and push me in my relationship with Christ.

But what kind of woman is that man looking for?

The point that Andy Stanley really drives home is becoming the person that the person you are looking for, is looking for. That having a successful relationship is less about finding the right person, and more about being the right person.

A friend recently told me that when he read my thoughts about being on an all girls team, he knew then that it would be good for me. He knew that having the summer to think clearly, and not be surrounded by distraction would grow me. He said that he had been listening to a podcast that said something along the lines of "you can't be the person God wants you to be, if you're with the wrong person." and that it is better to be single, and living in God's will for you, than to be chasing after the wrong relationship. I think am realizing that as a girl bombarded with today's world I am constantly seeking relationship. That right relationship. I rarely give myself the time that I was given this summer to shut the world out and hear what God is saying.

We live in a world of Happily Ever After stories, and media that tells me I need to find the one.

I am striving to live for my God that challenges me to be the one.

I truly believe that the relationships I have seen that are really working, relationships that are actively growing in God, are doing so because the people in them made sure that they were the right people for each other. In the past year or so, I have made it a point to pray for the man I will one day marry, pray for the man he is. But in the past month or so I have made it a point to pray that God will make me into the woman I hope that man is praying for.

God is constantly working on my heart, he is revealing himself to me in new ways all the time, and through that I am growing closer to him and, I hope, growing more into the woman I am called to be. Living for God, living against the way the world tells me to live, isn't easy. It's a daily decision to say, I am going to follow you, and not the world. Sometimes I fall on my face. But my God is so good, he is so good and he picks me up and brushes me off and says "Okay Emily, lets try this again."

I am so sinful, and so imperfect, and so ridiculously glad that there is grace for that. My college pastor recently said "It's okay to not be okay, but it's not okay to stay that way." I know that daily, I fall far from being the woman I am called to be. But God is revealing it to me, and showing me his glory, and the opportunities I have to grow from the sinful person I am. Growth that comes from Him, from trusting in Him, and not from anything I can do.

At the end of the day I want to be a woman that is earnestly trying to seek the Lord. I can hope and pray against it, but I know that I will fall and sin. But my God is calling me to be a woman that is in love with him, and when I fall I know he will catch me.

God has been working on my heart. He's been showing me my worth so much lately. And I am thankful for Jen, because she has been so instrumental and encouraging in that. But he's also calling me to recognize my worth, and my potential that I rarely even begin to reach for.

I am striving to live for my God that challenges me to be the one. I can't tell you how happy I am for my friend. I know she loves God beautifully, and she has found a man that will lead her in that. She has found a man who loves the Lord, and loves her. She is striving daily to be the woman that God is calling her to be, and through that she has found a man doing the same.

Watching Jen and Dustin this past weekend I realized that yes, I want that. Whether we are always willing to admit it to ourselves or not, most girls want that. We want that coupley cuteness. But more than that, I want the confidence that they have that their relationship is centered in Christ. The confidence that Jen has that Dustin will always be a spiritual leader for her. I am confident that my friend is marrying a man that will push her to grow in Christ, that will challenge her and lead her. And I am confident that Dustin that is marrying a woman that will love him because he loves Christ. That their lives together will be lives of daily worship.

Realizing my Worth

The last few months God has really been working on my heart. He's been showing me what it really looks like to be his daughter. He's been showing me what my worth is. Looking back I realize that God began teaching me this before I even left America, but it wasn't until I was away from the distractions of home, and found myself really listening to him, that I began to hear and understand him.

I have found such beautiful, encouraging community in the past year. God has brought people into my life that have been intentional with me, people that have wanted to really know me. People that have poured into me in ways I don't think they even realize. People that have been quietly, but constantly teaching me to love myself well.

As a 20 year old girl woman living in todays world I am constantly told what the world thinks my worth is. I am bombarded by it. It is utterly inescapable. It is entirely overwhelming.

I can't open a magazine without being told what to wear, or how to act, or "how to get the guy."

Social Media has me constantly seeking the approval of my peers, because we all know that if you didn't get enough likes on that photo or that status, it just wasn't pretty enough, good enough, funny enough. We are I am constantly allowing, in fact eagerly awaiting the approval of my 'friends' and 'followers'.

In a society raised on Happily-ever-afters and Romantic Comedies, I'm told that I often believe that my worth lies in companionship. Finding the ever elusive One that is somewhere out there.

There are days, the majority, that the world leaves me self conscious. That cause me to question who I am. But I'm not like her. I don't look that that. I'm just not as smart as her. Days that the world does what the world does best; knocks me down. But when I'm letting my days be dictated by the world, the flip side isn't much better. When the pages of a magazine tell me I'm doing okay, or my 'followers' really like what I've been doing that day, or that cute guy at the coffee shop compliments me, I'm left thinking that this is where my worth lies. These are the things that are important, that define me.

As a 20 year old in todays world I have a am desperately trying to escape the distorted view I have of myself. It is a constant, daily battle to seek the Lord in the midst of a world that is yelling for me to find my worth in any and everything else. There are so many days that I fail, that I stumble fall flat on my face, and give in to what the world says.

Through the community I have been so blessed to have found, I have been slowly shedding lies about myself. Lies I have believed for too long.

While I was in India my team and I wrote out a list of lies that we believe about ourselves. It wasn't hard to fill my page. The strange thing about it was, I was acknowledging that they were lies. As I wrote each one on my page under the heading Lies, I knew that they weren't true... but I still believed them. I still measured myself by what they said.

We were then given a fresh sheet of paper with the heading Truths. We took every lie, and wrote the truth to it. The truths that, at least in my case, I really didn't believe. The truths did not flow as easily from my pen as the lies had. Even as I sat in a room with ten girls that loved me, and wanted to pour into me, to affirm me, the enemy was still in my ear.

We took turns standing in front of the rest of the girls on our team and read aloud our truths. Saying, not only out loud but in front of other people, positive things that we didn't necessarily believe about ourselves was hard. Really hard. Tearing down lies that have deep rooted themselves in you, is painful.

But it was also freeing. To know that you can say those things, that somewhere inside you they do ring true. To know that ten other women, your sisters in christ, heard you affirm yourself and love yourself and that are fighting the same battle along side you.

I am a young Christian woman whose worth is in the Lord. I am a young Christian woman who is constantly told that that is not enough, that the world wants needs more from me. I know I am not in minority. The world wants me to think that I am alone in feeling this way. I am not.

The past year God has blessed me with unbelievable community. Community that has accepted me and loved me and is showing me that those truths I don't fully believe about myself are just that. Truths. God gave us community to experience his love.

In his beautifully written, somewhat controversial book Washed and Waiting, Wesley Hill speaks a lot about how important community is. Hill struggles a lot with insecurities and understanding his worth in a world that doesn't always understand him. After being affirmed by a fellow brother in christ, Hill writes

"with that gesture, and hundreds of others like it that I have received from fellow Christians, I have sensed God's love in a way that perhaps I would not have been able to in any other way. The remedy for loneliness- if there is such a thing this side of God's future- is to learn, over and over again, to do this: to feel God's keeping presence embodied in the human members of the community of faith, the church."

Now that I am home, and my time with my team feels like a lifetime ago, I can look at the page in my journal where I taped in my Truths sheet. I can read them and know that I am not a slave to the lies that the world tells me, that I am free from them. That I am redeemed by my God that loves me through my flaws and my insecurities. My God that seeks after me daily, that surrounds me in community and covers me in love. My God that paid the ultimate price for me. That is my worth.

My wonderful, hilarious, dysfunctional team. 

When the Henna Fades

I've been back in American for a week and a half.

I have a toilet that flushes with ease.
My showers are hot, and never run out of water.
I have eaten meat, and salad, and ice cream made with real milk.
I have coffee. Real coffee. 
My house is air conditioned, and the electricity stays on all day.

I can fix my hair and wear clean clothes and look like a real human being.

I've been to church. In English. With worship songs and sermons that aren't playing through an iPod speaker.

I've been reunited with friends and family that I missed terribly while I was away.

I've been asked a million times "how was your trip?" or "what was the best part?"

How was my trip?
What was the best part?

Our last few days in India we talked about how to handle questions like that, how we could possibly sum up everything great and beautiful and heartbreaking and terrible that we saw in a neat little sentence. No one wants to stand in line in the grocery store, or at the back of the church after the service and hear you pour your heart out and cry and laugh for an hour while you remember the faces and the laughter and the love you found over the summer.

"It was incredible, God was so good. I fell completely in love with the kids there. I'm glad to be home, but I miss it so much, and I can't wait to go back." 

Thats what people want to hear. And every word of that is true. My summer was incredible. God was, and is, so ridiculously good. He showed himself to me in crazy ways this summer. My whole heart belongs to those wonderful kids at SCH in India. I am glad to be home. I'm glad to be with my friends and my family, and back in my community, but everyday my heart aches for my team, for my kids, for my beautiful, simple life in India.  That's what people want to hear, and its the truth, but it doesn't begin to cover my summer. It doesn't begin to cover the way my heart was turned over and over the past two months. 

I could talk for an hour about the way Melanie* giggles, and how sweet the sound is.

I could talk for an hour about carrying Palmer* on my back, running around the courtyard with him.

I could talk for days about the ways my team impacted me. About the love they showed me, and how much I saw Jesus in them. About how much they taught me about myself.

I could talk for days about the work that SCH is doing. The incredible way it is impacting these kids lives. The way it impacted my life. I could talk for days about the things SCH is doing and still not be done.

No matter how hard I try, I don't think I'll ever be able to really explain the way I felt at the homes. I'll never really be able to tell you about the moment that I realized I was completely in love with these kids. I can't find words enough to explain the ache I feel being apart from them. The mix of joy and sadness I feel when I look at pictures of their smiling faces.

A few days ago one of my teammates text me.

"India really happened, right?"

I looked down at my hand, the outlines of the intricate Henna, done so skillfully, fading to a light orange. A ghost left over from what seems like an eternity ago. It really happened.

Is it possible that less than two weeks ago I was in India? 

I'm glad for the carved elephant on my keychain.
I'm glad for the ribbon tied around my bible, a ribbon I found at the Faith Home while we prayed over the rooms the children would move into. 
I'm glad for the notes taped into my journal, notes of love and encouragement from my team. My family.
I'm glad for the paint on my Chacos, left over from days spent singing with my team and painting the walls of the girls home.
I'm glad for photographs. To be able to see those gorgeous smiles and remember their laughter. 
I'm glad that when I am curled up in my bed alone, missing the 20 girls that I shared a house with, I can pull my Indian quilt around me and know that, yes, it was real. It happened. 

I miss India. I miss my team. 

But I'm excited for this semester. I'm excited for my community and my friends. I'm excited for God to continue growing me. To challenge me and to reveal more of himself to me. I'm ready for Crosspoint, and Community Groups, and Taco Tuesdays. I'm ready for Pot-luck at Terrell's and days of too much coffee at Java Jacks. 

And I'm excited to pray everyday for my kids. I'm excited to check the SCH blog daily. I wait anxiously for updates from the long-term volunteers still there, stalking their facebooks enviously. 

I am so excited for what this semester looks like, for the things God has in store for me. Adjusting to being back is hard. Harder than I ever thought it would be. Its hard to be separated from my team, the only people that felt the things I felt this summer. But I am adjusting. I'm learning to love my kids from afar until the time that I can, God willing, return to them. 

Leaving the ones that have my heart

My final few days in Ongole were consumed by loving on the kids for the last time, crying as I tried to find ways to say goodbye, and packing and repacking my suitcase (which seems to have doubled in contents).

 On Sunday morning we left Ongole; the place I have lived for the last two months, the place that has captured my heart in so many unexpected ways. Saying goodbye was so incredibly hard. My sweet sweet girl Melanie* cried when I kissed her cheek and put her down for the last time (okay, I've spoiled her and she cries every time I put her down, but this time it felt more personal). One of my wonderful school boys clung to my neck and refused to be put down, riding on my back as I made my rounds and said my goodbyes.

 I've been saying goodbyes my whole life. Whether I'm in England or America I always have people I love a million mile away. Goodbyes are never a fun thing, but as I walked out of the gates of Victory for the last time I felt utterly crushed.

 My time at Victory started out rocky. I've said it a hundred times, special needs is not my calling. But the kids of SCH have captured my heart entirely. I've loved and been loved by these kids in ways I did not expect to when I first arrived. I spent my first few days at Victory apprehensive, ready for the day to end. I ended my trip going there in my free time, desperate for more time with my beautiful kids. I grew attached. And leaving seemed impossible. How do you tell a child, that you've spent every day with, that you've grown to love, that you're leaving? How do you walk away, knowing that when you're gone they're not going to get the one on one you've been giving them?

The best way for me to look at this, is to recognize that God called me to a two month mission trip. He knew, when he sent me, that two months later he would be bringing me home. That was always His plan. That doesn't make the ache in my heart go away, but it does lessen it. I came to India to love these children, to serve this ministry, and to grow amongst a team of beautiful sisters in Christ.

I don't think Ongole and I have seen the last of each other, we still have our marks to leave on one another, but for now I am content with the time that I got to spend there, the beauty I saw, and the love that I received. 

I'll be praying everyday for the beautiful little faces I met there, and I can't wait to dance in heaven with them, when their bodies are restored and their sickness is gone. What a beautiful day that will be! 

 "But on taking leave of them he said, "I will return to you if God wills," and he set sail..." -Acts 18:21

Christmas in July

Now I know what Christmas in July looks like. I know how Santa feels.

Since we arrived, we've been doing a lot of behind the scenes stuff.

We've been sewing. We've been sorting. We've been cleaning. We've been painting.  

Don't get me wrong, we've been spending a fair bit of time with the kids too, but we've been doing tons of behind the scenes things. We couldn't be here at a more exciting time. SCH is in the process of moving all of the kids into newer, more controlled housing. The housing will be better split by genders and age groups. 

Along with the move the kids are all getting new clothes. That was what the goal of our first project was. We were sorting and sewing labels onto tons and tons of new clothes for the kids. 

We want this move to be as exciting for the kids as it can be, so we're trying to make the rooms as beautiful as the smiling faces that will be living in them. We've been painting murals on the walls of the girls home. There four of us that are, as Megan calls us, "Artsy-Fartsies" in the group, and there are conveniently four apartments in the girls home. We each headed up the design of an apartment. 

I can't tell you how much fun that was.

I got to completely design the layout for my apartment. 

We went with a sky theme :) our room has clouds painted all around, a skyline of the beautiful city outside, tons of stars, and suns, and moons, and scripture praising God. Seriously I love it. The fantastic girls that painted the apartment with me made my week phenomenal. With Macey, Alexis, Becca and Jess I painted, sang to Jesus, sang much missed country music, danced, and laughed. Seriously, I love these girls, and I've loved this project. (I'll post pictures of all of the rooms soon!)

We've also been distributing the clothes that we so carefully sorted and sewed. We went into the apartments before any of the kids moved in, and put they're cute little clothes in the closets waiting for them.

I think this is what Santa feels like. Getting things ready, leaving behind cute little gifts, picked out and waiting for the kids. 

Today I got a first taste of what all this work means. I got to visit one of the first groups of kids to move into their new apartments. Their 'house mothers' have brought them books and toys, and have pictures of their beautiful faces hanging all over their home. That's what it is, a home. 

The kids are wearing new clothes, that fit them well. They are sleeping in beds with soft blankets and cuddly toys. 

Those kids looked so happy. and so loved.

My post for today is short, and will sadly be the only one. For a lot of the day the power was on and off which kept me from posting, and then when it was on, I chose playing with kids over being at the computer. I thought it sounded like a fair trade. :)

I have one more week in this wonderful town with these amazing kids. The countdown makes my heart ache. It aches to see my friends and family at home, but it aches twice as much at the thought of leaving here.  

This is my Life

On our way back from the beach, I was riding in the trunk of the van between Sam and Macey. I was leaning out of the window, my hair whipping around my face. I was seeing miles and miles of India. Beautiful children, tiny villages, herds of cows, families on motorcycles, or crowded into Rickshaws. It was more than I could soak in. At one point I just turned to Sam and said "this is our life right now."

This is my life right now. This is my beautiful, beautiful life right now.

Spending time in my Hammock with my teammates, talking about life and Jesus and laughing until we cry and crying until we laugh.

Riding in Rickshaws, sometimes holding on for dear life, but loving every minute of it all the same.

Spending lunch times walking down the main road with my teammates, buying Grape and Pineapple smoothies for 35 cents and Street Ice cream for 10 cents.

Helping precious children walk. Making them laugh. Playing with them. Loving them.

Listening to sermons and podcasts with Beautiful, wonderful sisters in Christ.

Having traditional Indian outfits made for me, from fabric I've handpicked. For less than one shirt in America.

Singing and preaching in remote villages with the aid of a devoted translator.

Learning so much about myself, and things I didn't think I was strong enough for.

Joining the majority of the world in eating for less than $2 a day. And guess what? Its still absolutely delicious.

Hearing from my wonderful friends and family back home, being told I'm being prayed for, and supported, and loved across the miles.

I've never been so surrounded by such selfless people.

I've never felt so sure that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be at this moment.

Independance Day :)

The 4th of July was one of the very best days I've spent in India.

The morning was spent at Victory Home. Ministry just went so well that day. We were in high spirits. The kids were in high spirits. I spent a lot of the morning with Melanie*. If you've seen any of the pictures I've posted on facebook, I don't have to tell you this girl has captured my heart completely. She is beautiful. So beautiful. She has the longest eyelashes, and brightest eyes.

Her laugh is so ridiculously infectious. She cracks herself up. She just wants to be tickled, and spun around, and held. 

If I could spend every moment of every day with her I think I would.

At lunch time we loaded up in a van and headed to beach. I sat on a bench in the trunk, facing out the whole where a back window should go sandwiched between Becca and Macey, two of the funniest, most loving girls I know. Over the course of the hour long drive, we found the more embarrassing classics of the 90s and 2000s on each other's iPods. We passed tiny villages, and huge temples. We drove through miles of farmland that made me Texas, and stretches of highway that made it seem like years since I'd driven a car. 

The Bay of Bengal was more than we could have hoped for. We found a relatively secluded spot. The sand was soft and warm, and the waves were rolling. Appropriate attire at the beach consists of long pants and covered shoulders, but we didn't care. We happily leaped through the waves fully clothed. I think it was the cleanest I've been since arriving in India. It was so great to just have fun and be carefree with my wonderful teammates. I can't tell you what an amazing afternoon it was. Macey and I wandered down the beach and talked about the amazing things God was doing in us through this trip, then came back and took a million goofy pictures with the rest of the girls. 

The ride back was as wonderful as the ride there. The sun was setting and the air was warm, but felt great with the breeze. It had been a fantastic day. 

But it wasn't over.

When we got home the head of ICM, the ministry we are partnered with, called us to say that they were coming to The Peace House (where we are staying) and bringing some of the other American volunteers for an Independence Day Celebration. 

We spent the evening taking with American volunteers we had been serving with, getting to know them better, and meeting ones we had not yet crossed paths with. After a while we were ushered outside. Several of the men then started lighting fireworks. It wasn't the longest, or the most extravagant firework show I've ever seen, but it was by far the best. Because they were doing it for us, because they love and appreciate us. 

It was so great to be there, all together, feeling so loved, and loving one another.

As ICM volunteers passed around ice cream, we say the national anthem and a few other cheesy America songs. Alexis, Gillian and I even pulled out a round of Deep in the Heart of Texas.

The day was wonderful.

I spent it with wonderful people.

I felt so loved.

It was a beautiful day.    

Love these kids from afar

I've met so many beautiful children of Christ since I've been here.

I've learned their names and memorized their beautiful faces.

I've seen the help the receive, and the needs that are being met.

I've also seen the need that is still very much there.

I've seen the need that they are desperate to fufill.


I'm not entirely sure who is reading my blog. Maybe it's mostly my friends, who are struggling through the financial burden of college. 

If that's you, help these beautiful children by praying for them, and then sharing this link.

Maybe you're reading this, and you have a little extra in the budget, maybe you are just dying to know how you can help. The kids are Sarah's Covenant Home need to be sponsored. Very few have full sponsorship right now. Some are partially sponsored, and others are not sponsored at all. 

Sponsorship helps pay for medical costs, surgeries, food, clothing, home renovations, and schooling.

Read about these kids. Learn their names, and their stories. Pray about them. And if you feel led, please help one of these beautiful kids out and sponsor them. Because I love them all dearly.

http://www.schindia.com/gallery/all-children/

Breaking my heart and rebuilding it for Missions

No one would ever accuse me of being organized. What can I say? I'm a creative mind... Organization is not my forté. I've never been the first to offer to help with cleaning, and I'll put off doing laundry until I'm literally out of clean clothes. Whoops. 

I like kids. Kids can be fun. But I've never been the kind of girl dying to hold every baby she sees, dreaming of the day she'll have her own. I've never picked out baby names, and I don't have a board of kid related things on Pinterest. I like kids, but I'm not that girl. My sister is, but I've never really been. 

Working in missions is changing my heart is the weirdest ways. The mission field will make a housewife out of anyone. 

I have cleaned rooms from floor to ceiling, making sure every mark and every stain is gone. I know every trick to getting crayon off of walls. I have washed my laundry in a metal tub on the back porch, and line dried them behind the house. 

I have picked out a live chicken, and had it killed and skinned in front of me. I've cleaned fresh chicken and cooked it over a tiny propane stove. I know how to clean fruit with bottled water, and cut pineapples and watermelons with a pocket knife.

I'm learning how to make kids smile when all they want to do is cry. I'm learning how to tell if a baby is running a fever. Did you know that forehead kisses make the best thermometers?  

I'm learning to love the kids, past my own reservations, and my own comfort levels. I'm learning to listen to God when he calls me. 

I've been in India for a little under a month. I've learned, probably only a small fraction of what it means to be a missionary, but I'm learning to love the good and the bad. I've learned that its hard work, and rarely looks like what you're expecting. I've learned that as soon as you're reached some level of comfort with what you're doing, it'll change. I've learned that seemingly small acts of service can be hugely beneficial to ministries in the long run. I've learned that when something is rough, there will soon be something so rewarding to follow that it'll make it all worth it. 

I've been in India for a little under a month. I haven't even left yet and I already feel called back. I've googled long term missions a hundred times. I've googled teaching english over seas. I've googled mission sponsorship and training programs. 

I think my heart was made for the mission field. 

"And he said to them, 'Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to the whole creation."  - Mark 16:15