Away from the norm.

Hi friends!

I know it's been quite a while since I've last written. I think I'll re-vamp and try to keep this up more consistently. This particular blog is to share with you the heart I have experienced in traveling to Barranquilla, Colombia in the past week. I wrote this letter to than those who supported me, but I thought it might be nice to let the rest of you know how God totally rocked my world! Anyway, enjoy!

There are many moments in my life when I am so utterly in love with Jesus that I just can’t imagine falling for Him more. This was my exact feeling before I left for Barranquilla Columbia on October 19. Yet here I am another day in, more in love, in awe of our glorious Savior.

I signed up for this trip last spring in hopes of an amazing experience knowing little about where I was going, what I’d be doing, or who I’d be going with. Most of the people I talked to thought I was crazy, yet the peace I had from the beginning about the unknown was assurance that it was good OR that they, in fact, were right. From the day I decided to go, the provision I saw from God daily through things that were so far out of my control gave me the confidence to continue on. For this is something I’ve learned over the last year—should we remain comfortable and in areas where we don’t have to wait expectantly for God to pull through, our faith is tested less. I can say with more assurance than ever before that we serve a living God who uses us for His glory despite what little we have to bring to the table. After watching Him act in the moments of preparation, it was time to see Him act in the moments of action.

The first moment of action was meeting my team in Miami. Despite my outgoing, attention-loving personality, I am initially a fairly shy person. This part of the trip had my stomach in knots. I look back and laugh because of how wonderfully I was blessed by each one of my team members. Normally, I am usually the encourager, but on this trip I constantly found myself engrossed in affirmation from those surrounding me. The love and passion they showed was unreal. I have now officially met two of the coolest Australian’s, someone who loves dancing more than I, and so many people from Colorado I don’t know what to do with myself. For all of these people, I am indubitably thankful.

Upon the arrival to Barranquilla, our newly acquainted team was greeted with lots of music and open arms from the Columbian group. We had a nice, hour-long bus ride to spend meeting our fearless Columbian leaders and spending some time getting to know each other even more.

Saturday and Sunday were full of project visits. Never have I been so certain that the money I give each month goes to the glorification of kingdom far greater than I can imagine. The projects were so welcoming, so full of hospitality. Our team was able to see what exactly Compassion stood for, the values, and the action it takes. We spent the majority of these two days serving, learning, and loving. I was able to meet some beautiful kids, and I received more hugs and kisses (even a nice kiss to my hair, which was a HUGE attention grabber) than I imagined possible.

The project time was accompanied by visits to two local houses from two different project areas. This is probably one of the most heart wrenching situations I experienced. I was expecting poverty; I’ve seen pictures of what that looks like. But when the sense of sight is then accompanied with the sense of sound, touch, and smell, things become more vivid. The children showing us their homes were so proud and excited to welcome us in and let us experience what it is they experience. Amidst those homes is where God slapped me across the face. How often I get so caught up in my house looking seemingly perfect that I forget to offer what the house itself is there for—hospitality.  The pride they had in the little they had made me realize how undeniably selfish I can be, and how thankful I am for His grace. 

Monday was easily one of the most memorable days of my life. This was the day I finally met Angie, my sassy little sponsored child. It was such a blessing to go from her initial statement, “I don’t like to talk much,” to  her bossing me around at the end of the day AND the silly picture to accompany. It’s amazing what one-day of bonding through tag, pool games, and writing our names in the sand of the beach can do for a relationship. I can honestly say that this day was so full of joy and life that I can hardly articulate neither the amount of love I feel for my sweet girl nor the appreciation I feel for all who made this day possible. My heart is so deeply thankful for those who prayed for my journey, those who offered encouragement, those of Compassion International who did all of the organizing, planning, leading, and especially to Him who even made this whole journey possible—how my heart longs to offer gratitude to you all, yet I cannot even fathom how to elaborate your worth!

Upon returning to Kansas, my heart is so heavy with the “What Now?” feeling. How can I take my new passions and experiences that God has taught me in these last few months and use it to glorify His kingdom right now? John 3:30 simply says, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” This verse is one I cling to daily to encourage me to take captive each moment through loving and encouraging those around me--aiming daily to decrease my selfish pride and broken love in order to love more perfectly and selflessly for His glory. Thanks again for your prayer and support in all of the various ways.

Te Quiero Mucho Amigos

The Lone Woolf

Continue to pray for a content, excited heart for where I am now. Pray for opportunities for me to serve passionately whether in Wichita, Columbia, or somewhere unimaginable. Pray that in sharing my experiences that my words fall on deaf ears and His come to life. Lastly, pray that God continue moving in Columbia to allow the beauty of the country to regain the main focus. 

Dating advice from...Ke$ha?

Hello my lovely followers,

I'm so sorry that it's been at least a month or two since I've last written. I've just been so stinkin' busy I don't know what to do with myself. However, tonight I had some experiences that couldn't go without writing about. So please read on for my version of...Friday Night Live. =)

Addie told me she was going to have a friend stay the night tonight. I liked this particular friend (really I like all of Addie's friends--hilarious), so I was totally cool with it. However, I didn't realize that this Friday night entertainment would be some of the best comedy to ever hit Protection.

Addie's friend, Sorel, is quite the little character. She always has me crackin' up, and she's just downright nice. After have a little heart-to-heart with her about my first year in college, of which she was very curious about, and her soon-to-be middle school aged sister, I decided to go upstairs for the night and leave the two little ones to have some fun.

Not long after I had situated myself on my lovely bed, laptop in hand, I hear the steady increase of giggling and quick steps up our creaky wooden stairs followed. Addie busts through the door and sprints into the room with Sorel on her heals, and on their faces were the most ornery smiles if I had ever seen them. Addie jump on the other bed, and starts blurting out some story about Sorel and her self proclaimed buck teeth and poofy hair (Sorel actually said poofy three times in one sentence--impressive). After watching those girls look at each other and begin to laugh harder with every word, I joined in the excessive laughter. I mean, how could you not, really? Well, here came more info. Addie decided to tell me who Sorel "has a crush on." Ohhhh boy. I was curious as to where this conversation was going because it was quickly taking a turn down a very long and winding road. Of course, Sorel likes one of the cutest, most athletic boys in her class (duh). And here's where it's funny...apparently, they were dating for  a month at one point in time, but Sorel didn't know. Let me tell you, Dis. Tress.

Then, the conversation turned to a different subject of choice--my little sister. Up until this point in time, I swore my little sister saw no difference between girl and boy. But boy (ha), was I wrong. Apparently, she's crushin' on a cute little fella, and he's, of course, crushin' on her. I was informed they even danced together at the dance...helllloooo love. The only sad part of this little story, is I had to practically tear my little sister's limbs off to figure out who it was. Luckily, her dear friend was very willing to fill me in of the information that I had no idea was going on.

I decided to make the conversation a little more serious, so I simply said, "Addie, it's okay that you like boys. Actually, I'm glad you do. It's totally normal. Just don't be dumb, and please, please, PLEASE make sure they treat you right. Otherwise, get them out!" After a few phrases from Sorel about 'kicking them to the curb,' Addie responds with, "Yeahhh, I know. Kind of like that one girl--the singer. She says, 'kick em to the curb unless they look like Mick Jagger.'"

And that's where I got a little worried. Apparently, my ten-year-old little sister is now taking dating advice from the one and only--Ke$ha. Uhh oh. Needless to say, I about blew a hole in the wall with laughter directly followed with concern, but I quickly finished my discussion on little-school love. I pretty much said that it would be better for her to take dating advice from my abnormally fiesty, wannabe cheetah cat before taking it from our one and only Ke$h.

Luckily, our night of girl talk eased in to less dramatic conversational topics like their bowl of cheese (that my dog so sneakily enjoyed instead of partaking in our lovely talking) that was to be used for 'enchiladas,' also known as quesadillas, and how it's time to quit calling your toes 'piggies,' but instead 'toes' or if they really want to impress people 'phalanges.' To which Sorel responded, "That sounds like enchiladas to me. Why in the world would you EVER call your toes.." wait for it, this is one of the best moments of the night.. "Fill-in-chee-an-nees." Yeah, close, buuut no.

To sum up this entire post, I'm going to warn you. If you decide to stay up with a couple of crazy 9/10-year-olds, be prepared to laugh, cry, etc. They will make you fall in love with that childhood innocence that is so brilliant...so perfect..so stinkin' hilarious. If you are to ever get this chance, I suggest you take it. It may be one of the best spontaneous decisions that has ever been forced upon me. High-five to silliness!

Enjoy the ignorance of others,
the Lone Woolf

Help.

Summer is nearing, my friends. Summer is nearing. And I am becoming more and more excited. Though I'm not finished with classes until the 16 of May, and not finished at my Elementary school until the 24th, I still am realizing that my first year of college is coming to an end. I'm excited to be living back in Protection where I have free laundry, and my keys never leave the ignition. However, I'm a little nervous for how my social life could go from booming to...bombed?

With the summer coming, I need a book list. Why? Because, well, I am a nerd, and I love to read. It's a sick obsession I've had since, well, third grade. It wasn't until about third grade that I realized it was an obsession. Apparently, it's not common to take large AR books home and try to finish them in one night. Who knew?

Anyway, the previously stated information shall remain in the blog, and in the blog only. Truly, it's irrelevant to the topic. Obviously, I've already started thinking about this precious prize to my mind. My current summer must-reads include:

1. Think by John Piper
2. Take One by Karen Kingsbury
3. The Hunger Games Trilogy

However, considering the amount of time I'll spend traveling, relaxing by the pool, and catching some rays, I'm going to need a few more suggestions. So, my faithful followers, this is where you come in. I need a few more suggestions. I am open to all kinds of suggestions. Why? Because I am not picky. When it comes to food, music, and books, I have a vast taste. 

Anyway, please, suggest. My capacity for boredom could be lessened drastically thanks to your suggestions. 

Read for love,

the Lone Woolf

Thank God He can read.

As I've mentioned before, it's been a crazy last few weeks. I've been thrown so many situations to handle--new types, old types, you name it. What do I do? I attempt to handle them..duuhh. Sometimes, it turns out well. Sometimes, I do what I know I need to do. Yet what happens when disappointment, grief, or sorrow throw themselves my way? I seem to grab yet another mask. I hide all upset feelings--simply cover it with my big smile and an "ehh, it's life" comment. I honestly can say that I even mask the joyous situations. Relationships that have been mended, hugs received by hurting children, even those I don't let myself attach to. Why? Because those situations may let you down. Those relationships may end as they have before, and those children may not be here tomorrow. And when I do finally let down those walls that I have so successfully built up over the last few years, I feel weak. It just seems better to not feel at all.

As I sit here thinking about everything that has happened, I realize the emotional roller coaster that I should be experiencing. Yet all I've done is put on my 'tough girl' exterior. With everyone. With myself. Is it possible to work so hard to convince every one else that you're okay, that these situations are just life, that eventually, you even convince yourself? And what happens then when you realize maybe you're not 'okay'? Maybe you don't feel like smiling? YOu'd better hope that the people around you can handle it, right? Because people don't like it when you're real. 

So here's my relief--God has x-ray vision. There are no masks with Him. He even knows what I don't. The thankfulness I have at this point, in regards to Him understanding me better than myself...it's abounding. There will always be someone who doesn't care if I cry. He knows when I'm let down. He knows how hard it is for me to let anyone see me in a vulnerable state. He knows when I hurt. 

"And you, my son Solomon, acknowledge the God of your father, and serve him with wholehearted devotion and with a willing mind, for the Lord searches every heart and understands every motive behind the thoughts. IF you seek him, he will be found by you; but if you forsake him, he will reject you forever." 1 Chronicles 28:9

The bold statement, it's...well, bold. And comforting. And scary. And comforting. God, He can read me like an open book. Praise the Lord (haha, literally) because I usually don't even know what I, myself, want. I can justify any possible want in my head. But really? I honestly have no idea. However, it's scary. He knows what I want, even when I have successfully convinced myself that I do not want that.

And here's what is so disgusting about this whole situation. It takes a massive amount of crappy events for me to even realize this sort of thing. How selfish can I get? How idiotic can I bet? I mean, if this were the first time that a realization like this had occurred, that's one thing, but it happens repetitively. So here's my conclusion: the Lone Woolf still has a lot of growing up to do. And always will. 

Maybe that's an abrupt ending, but let it leave you some time to think. Masks? We all wear 'em. More often than we should. What would happen should we all take them off? Chaos? Reality? 

Truth? 

Confidence in God alone,

the Lone Woolf

P.S. this is not a distraught post. I am not upset. I just feel like more than just I feel this way. . .

A dream worth documentation. . .

Hello all,

Okay, so here's the deal. I like to sleep...a lot. The kind of sleep I particularly enjoy is that deep, uninterrupted, drool-worthy sleep--yeah, it sounds good just typing about it. Dreams? Well, I don't particularly enjoy them, but for this rule, there are some exceptions. This particular dream I am going to explain is one of those. I think you'll see why. It all started after my head hit my pillow.

All of the sudden it was Christmas, but it wasn't the normal Christmas. I was actually spending this particular Christmas with some random girl who shall remain nameless. Why? Because I have yet to figure out how she got into my dream. Anyway, she was trying to figure out where she was going to go to college. Now, that's what is strange about this dream. Not only does she already go to college, but also her determining college would have no alteration to my life. Weird?

Onward I go. Now, she was trying to determine her future college, but her method was the strange part. Her two colleges of choice were received as Christmas presents--one red, one green, no bows (obviously not my usual Christmas).  So she finally gets to the good part, she opens the presents, and I immediately knew what they were. Present number one, red box, Marshall University. Yes, we are Marshall. Haven't seen the movie since it hit theaters (mostly because I balled like a little baby, and I don't particularly enjoy doing that. Don't get me wrong, great movie).

 I am certain you are all very excited to hear what was in the green box, and I am excited to tell you, for if this was a college, I am certain I would attend. And when she opened that box, my eyes lit up,  and I was overwhelmed with warmth. Here it is: DPU. Never heard of DPU? That's because it doesn't exist. Don's Place University, my friends. The college of good food, and well, Don.

I never got to see what she decided, but I am certain it would have been Don's Place University. First of all, it was close to her home (yes, she lives near my hometown), and second of all, I mean, who wouldn't want to major in deliciousness, right? I know I would. Obviously, I miss that deliciousness more than an understandable amount. So there you have it, as I woke in laughter, I decided I would share.

That's all my friends. Enjoy life, and I will talk to you soon.

Keep your hunger satisfied,
the Lone Woolf

Something joyous happened today. I decided to write about it in verse...

You've been gone too long
I've missed that silent song
But now you're back at my side.

I keep you close
With each insulin dose
I supply you with my blood sugar slide.

You keep all my data
with some of your own strata
But we are like two peas in a pod.

With you gone
I carry on
But with you I'm as cool as a guy with a hot rod.

Shiny, sharp, silver, pointy
Stabbed deep into my own tummy
I trust you don't give me hypertrophy

They try to take you from my grasp
But to you I tightly clasp
For your company is like my trophy.

When the end comes
And they pry you from my stomach and thumbs
I will always remember the diabetic love we've had.

Keep faith, my Dexter,
My continuous diabetic tester,
For at the end of July, we'll be far from disappointed, mad.

The End.

Dexter is back my friends. I have been reunited with my sharp, continuous friend. =)

Love and Diabetic Consistency,
the Lone Woolf

My passion colored pen

Long time no write,

For this above statement, I am truly sorry. HOwever, I haven't been coming up with much to write about lately. Perhaps it's the business of what my life has been possessing? Perhaps it's all of the emotional highs and lows I've been experiencing? The reason, I really have no idea. I just don't have much to say, yet I find myself wanting to tell you so much. So here I go...

The last two weeks of my life have been a whirlwind. I have lost; I have gained; I have both laughed and ached with pain. I have opened up and built new walls. It's as if life is a never ending process of two steps forward one step back. But at least I'm getting somewhere, right? And what a wonderful jaunt it has been.

I'm nearing the end of my first year of college. Weird, right? I'm becoming such a grown lady. Ha, nahhh. Within the last year, I have learned so much about so much. About life, people, and. . . me. Here, allow me to elaborate five of my self revelations learned this year. 

1. I make horrible first impressions. Why? Because I am one of the most awkward people ever. I am loud, and when I get nervous (which happens fairly often), I sometimes get even louder than my natural state. I'm sure you're thinking that's quite impossible, but let me tell you my friends, it's not. And if I don't obnoxiously force myself into your life, I don't talk at all. I just sit there, smiling, as if I have nothing in my cranial cavity. Extremes? Very much so. Extremely strange.

2. I apparently look or sounds like the following: Jenna Fischer, Zooey Deschanel, and...wait for it...Exercise Barbie? I have yet to decide if the latter is an insult of a compliment. My dearest friend, Sar, once told me, "If Jenna Fischer and Barbie had a baby, that'd be you." Really? Hmm. These comparisons all seem to leave me in a haze, but within the last seven months I have gotten more references than ever before in my life. Strange, I know. 

3. Here's the next one, and this one has become blatantly obvious than ever before. I am a horrible, terrible liar. In an attempt to side-swipe a situation today, not even lie--just not tell the whole truth, this self realization became apparent. What happened? My face filled in the rest of the story. My face gets this panic-striken look much like that of a five-year-old caught stealing candy--eyes widen, mouth drops, and stuttering starts. I'm so terrible at doing this, that upon once attempting to play the two truths and a lie game, I accidentally told three truths. I have always known this hasn't been my strongest quality, maybe that's a good thing? Maybe it's a little embarrassing? Oh well. 

4. I'm a wicked dancer--especially in the Sonic parking lot. hahahaha...yeah, this really happened. Let me put it all out there for you, so you may fully comprehend. ONe night, after Christian Challenge, Sarah and I took a little jaunt to Sonic. Upon hearing some music, Sar broke into random dance, and I obviously followed. Then we hear someone yelling from across the way, "Hey, girl, whatchou dancin' to?" Sarah explained that she was just dancing to some music she had heard, and we then learned that it was the yelling woman and her friends that had been bumpin'. After this discovery was made, I did what any sheltered, white-girl in the ghettos would do...I signaled for her to turn it up. She did, and the next 10 minutes was filled with somewhat of a dance-off between their car and ours. The battle was close until I started framing my face while Sar did the robot. After that, they were toast. Yeah...that was one of my cooler moments.

5. Ahh numero cinco. Here we go. I'm a "follow my heart", "gotta have a feeling" kind of girl. Yeah, lammmme, I know. But it's true, and I've realized this more in the last seven months due to the excessive amounts of changes in my what was once so comfortable life. Sometimes, I do things on a 'whim'. And yeah, it's fun for a while. Footloose and fancy free, right? Well, what happens, you see, is I turn into leadfoot and fancy nausea. Not. Worth. It. But this also goes the other way. When I'm excited about something, it's apparent. When I'm passionate, it's an overwhelming passion, and I love this feeling. I often can't sleep when excitement is overtaking me because, well, I'm that ridiculous sometimes. 

One of my favorite writers due to her bluntness much like my own, Beth Moore, gave me a nice little quote that sums up, well, my last paragraph--especially in regards to my writing. "Passion isn't always the best ink. It tends to get splattered and spit instead of scripted thoughtfully and melodiously like notes on a composer's score. . . Things are better said in retrospect, but had I waited, a written message would never have materialized." This quote made my life. Sometimes I don't tell good stories in person, and sometimes my emotions are so thrown up all over this blog that I pity those of you who have to 'clean them up'. By clean them up, I mean read them. Ha. You get the picture? However, like Beth said, it's better said without melody than not at all. And I don't do well about not saying things. I like to talk.

Okay, so this may be one of the most randomly thrown together blogs of all times, but I felt it was time for an update. Now I must make haste, for bed time has come. 

Goodnight my lovelies,

the Lone Woolf