Here We Go, Haiti.

Oh, to be hands and feet. It's here again. The Lord has lead me to another trip across waters; He has brought me again to the call-- to love His people in the country of Haiti. As I sit in the airport I can't understand how He could look upon me and find me worthy for this opportunity. Grace. His Grace is so big. Word's cannot describe how excited I am for these days ahead of me. There are so many faces there becoming more and more familiar to me, and more of their stories growing deeper in my heart. To hug them and know them more, is nothing I can put into words. I am looking forward to writing about all He brings me to, teaches me, and more. May I walk His story, and bring only Him glory.

"He wanted His people to 'loose the chains of injustice,' and not just go to the church on Sunday. He wanted His people to 'clothe the naked,' and not just attend midweek prayer meeting. He wanted His people to 'spend themselves on behalf of the hungry,' and not just sing praise music." -When Helping Hurts

Friends

This past week has had a common theme for me; you could say, a great reminder of life essentials. I have once again been reminded of God's love through relationship.

I have gotten to FaceTime both my sister away on the AT, and my best friends away working at camp; I spent the weekend celebrating Jamie's engagement with girls I have loved since kindergarten; I even received letters and care-packages in the mail, and that doesn't even cover it all. So, here I am filled with love from all these people, ready to pour it all out-- that's how God works. Relationships are the doors He comes from, the paths to find Him, and the tools He uses. It still amazes me how energizing service out of love can be. When Jesus resides in our very core, we cannot help but be attracted to the dying of self; we want to care beyond our own needs, and we desire to be apart of something that benefits what is past us. I say 'want' because we are still yet to be made perfect by Him, but our hope remains enough right now- hope that this life we are living is worth more than days on this earth... a promise that we await. The picture of true love cannot be seen, it cannot be felt, or it cannot be acted upon without relationship. The people in my life are nothing but good and perfect gifts- all apart of His plan.

7 days Until Haiti

The feeding of the 5000 has once again popped up into my reading, and time spent with Him. May I continue to learn offering up what I have and letting God transform it for the good of others.

I see, if you really want to experience God- then go, love his people. 

What is more important than the world seeing Him? 

Jezi se sel espwa. Jesus is my only hope.

Sister Smirks

I got to FaceTime the thruhiker world's kindest tonight. She filled me in on her latest Native-American reading, organic-farming day, and even introduced me to a chicken named Helen. Dad, Stacey, Mom, and the cats all joined our date at some point, making my heart even more full. I have really enjoyed living vicariously through my family as they tread along the Appalachian Trail thus far. I am looking forward to the possibility of putting in some miles with them after I return from Haiti. Missing this wildflower lots, thanking Him for her, and sending hugs to Maine.

Father Pedro Arrupe

Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you will do with your evenings, how you will spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, and it will decide everything. 

Bad-Weather as a Dad

Today, the East TN Tribe of 5 enjoyed lunch and nap time on Moxie Bald.

I have a trail-dad.

One whom is currently walking south for 2,000 plus miles, finding adventure in the wilderness, and taking in glimpses of God's glory through creation all along the way.

More specifically, I have a trail-dad who, when in the woods, goes by the name of "Bad-weather." 

(Try topping that for third grade show-in-tell).

Today was Father's Day, and considering my dad has taken on the Appalachian Trail, our usual Cracker-Barrel celebration date has been post-poned for a couple months, or so. As a result, it was all-in-all a day no out of the ordinary as another (although, I did enjoy more time with my sweet mother, which I am always thankful for).  Out of all the Father's Day I have celebrated, this year I am the most grateful; and I don't know whether to call it sad, or not, at the fact that it took these weeks away from him to see it all. We laugh because I have somewhat stepped in to handle all of dad's regular house care and errands while he's gone- and let's just say I fall quite short of them all. My mowing may be getting better, and I hope to throw the trash in the right dumpster next time, but there is still so many obvious areas that show momma and I are missing our chief. If you know my dad, you know what joy he is to have around, the laughter he can bring, and the deep caring heart he has that always makes you want to be a better person. 

At church this morning we sang the beautiful, and so fitting, hymn of "Higher Ground." The piano began to play, and momma leaned over and said, "This always reminds me of your dad." She could not be more right. 

"I'm pressing on the upward way,

New heights I'm gaining every day;

Still praying as I'm onward bound,

Lord, plant my feet on higher ground."

This is my dad's heart. From what I understand, the Appalachian Trail is just as much as a spiritual journey as it is physical. 

"My heart has no desire to stay

Where doubts arise and fears dismay;

Though some may dwell where those abound,

My prayer, my aim, is higher ground.

Momma and I have many different jobs on the home-side of the AT journey, and that includes prayer, and lots of it. As long as thing journey continues, as will our prayers, and today this song became just that.

"I want to scale the utmost height

And catch a gleam of glory bright;

But still I'll pray till heav'n Ive found, 

Lord, plant my feet on higher ground."

How wondrous God must look from the top of Mt. Katahdin, how beautiful He must sound through the  falls and wildlife, and how refreshing He must feel through the revealing of His glory in every step. The key point is that none of this could/can be experienced without the pursuit of "new heights." Higher ground is found by scaling the "utmost height." Doubts and fears are inevitable in this life, but in order to catch that gleam of glory bright, we must stay onward bound.

I have a trail-dad, and his aim is higher ground.

Happy Father's Day, Bad-Weather. 

"And God saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was very good." -Genesis 1:31

The 100 Mile Wilderness

The name alone, “The 100 Mile Wilderness,” gives you a sense of weight and hesitation; it seems to illuminate for me a understanding of that which is not easy, convenient, or comforting. These four words are something my mind has repeated and thought on often this past week. My dear and adventurous family have left for their journey along the Appalachian Trail, leaving the house, four cats, and a dog, all to my sweet mother and I. For as long as I can remember my dad has dreamt of this 6 month hike, and it didn’t take my sister and brother long to begin dreaming it as well. Since then, my sister’s husband and my little cousin have taken on the adventure with them. Now, the time for the 5 of them to leave has finally came as to about a week ago, and here I sit- surrounded by cats, sore from mowing the lawn, and googling the nearest dumpsters for tomorrow’s trash duty. Is this a place every college graduate finds themselves in, or is this just me? Regardless, it is safe to say I have launched into a new season of my life, and it is full of lessons.

“The 100 Mile Wilderness” has seemed to be a lesson itself, for me these past few days. This is the northernmost part of the Appalachian Trail, and is currently the section my family is passing through now. If you Google this trek you might find descriptions such as: one of the most remote trails in the United states, uninhabited, seldom traveled, harsh contrasts, and unforgiving to the ill-prepared. Make no mistake about it, this is nature in the raw. This rough and narrow path is surrounded by 15 million acres of inaccessible woodlands- making it a hearty test of their physical strength and commitment within. We are to assume that the average length it’ll take our hikers to get through this stretch is around ten days. That is usually 10 days of no contact being made with them. However, we were lucky today to receive a small update! Thank you, Lord! This came as a such a surprise and great excitement for us family members back home. I am proud to hear they are 56 miles deep in this challenge and doing well! The trail was said to be pretty tough, however, with much “mud & muck, blow downs, and stream crossins,” (if you put it in dad’s words), all resulting in a slow trek. Their spirits seemed high and full of laughter though, which was so good for us back home to hear. We were also told that tonight they were getting the chance to take their first bath of their trip- in a lake! Sheww, what a bunch. I will definitely be sending them deodorant in their next package…I just need to find the vegan kind for Amber..somewhere… By the way, Dad sent word she was a pretty tough girl;) That’s my wildflower. I am so proud of them all.

Although, we got a a bit of word from them tonight, the past few days of no contact has given my mind free range to think of all the different circumstances they could be in. At the end of it all, I always come back to the question, “how?” How can one want to walk through 100 miles of straight wearying and rigorous wilderness (not to mention- still have over 2,000 miles to go afterwards)?

I have come to believe the answer is found more in not the “how” but the “why.” I am sure there are endless varieties of reasons “why” that have crossed through Maine’s wilderness path, but I believe those reasons were the very thing that kept them going: their goal, their focus, their purpose..their reward. The more I think about it, I realize this is a question we can all ask ourselves; perhaps we are all walking, or being called, to a 100 Mile Wilderness. We may not be asked, “what are you walking for,” but more so “what are you living for?”

This is a question I find that constantly points me to my Light. As for myself, I see my purpose here on this earth to glorify my creator- by loving Him and loving His people. It is in His midst that I find my hope, perseverance, and worth. Therefore, as I go through “100 miles of wilderness,” wether it be a day’s worth or a month, a heavy burden or light affliction, my purpose remains, pushing me forward. I think of how beautiful and thrilling the end of this stretch is going to be for my hikers; how rejuvenated and encouraged they will be to move on; and how thankful and satisfied they will be with what was accomplished. Just like the sun must die in the west if it is to rise in the east, we must endure to receive the reward in full. You hear the analogy all the time; let us not forget the climb up the mountain is what sets us on it’s top.

One of the boldest things Christ taught us on the cross was that suffering is directly linked to glory. Is it possible this is just the thought we have forgotten? Hardship, even the smallest scale of it- waiting, discomfort, setbacks, disruptions, or whatever may not seem to line up with our wishes- we want none of it. We then are left only to find ourselves short of what we once saw lying ahead, no closer to our pursuit, and at a standstill of believing above our fears.

My family is walking right now, through what many of us choose not to tolerate, for we look at it as inconvenient. Therefore, I have learned from them this week, to pinpoint my wilderness and walk- looking at it only as the path to my reward.

Hold tight to what is coming, pursue it passionately, and believe far above what you may fear. I can walk through the wilderness, but it takes a steady fixing of my gaze on the cross- what I am living for.