Revealing Grace

It was in a tiny shop in the middle-of-nowhere that I first heard about the poverty on Native American reservations. As I listened to this stranger tell me things I had never heard before, my heart was stirred. Maybe I could work on reservations. A few months later the idea was still stirring, though quietly. I attended a few lectures at Fuller about sexual abuse and identity among Native Americans, and I began to write my papers on the web of poverty that many reservations are caught under.  Then, as many of you know, I spent a hard and heart-breaking summer working with high school students on the White Mountain Apache reservation. I was overwhelmed by the brokenness, by the stories of my students, and the pain they went through.   How could I not continue to come back after knowing how much need there was for the gospel in this place? But time moves on and has a way of blurring the lines of your memory. I got involved in school, got distracted by my impending

I used to worry a lot. I don’t know what I worried about, I just remember labeling myself as a worrier. After a while that habit subsided and I lived happy carefree years trusting in the Lord and skipping through fields of flowers (ok, maybe I just dreamed the part about the flowers). But within the past couple of weeks I have noticed that I have picked the habit back up. The worries have multiplied and taken over. I worry that I am not thin enough and I worry that my apartment should be cleaner. I worry that all my friends will eventually realize I am weird and decide not to be friends with me (no exaggeration) and I worry that the text/email/message I just sent was super dumb as I chastise myself for not being cooler. I worry that I will never find time to do laundry and then I will have to wear all the clothes I don’t like and then of course people won’t want to hang out with me anymore...get the picture? I have been consumed by these superficial worries that cause me to alwa

Line dancing, Chick-fil-a, new friends, bagels, old friends.  Work, class, tutoring, more class, and late night tater-tot runs.  Laughing, dozing, eating, forgetting to eat.  Friends episodes and good advice.  Relationships, accountability, serving.  All of these things fit into the past week of my life. I’m beginning to think that I have a tendency to fit too many things into 7 days, but even though it ends with me tired it is usually worth it. I have found that in running from place to place, and taking the time to fit friends into my schedule this quarter, means that I find blessings in the smallest things. It is the little things of each day that get me through, that give me confidence, that encourage me to pursue the dreams I believe God has given me. It is the kind word they probably did not even realize they said, the connections with home, the time spent resting and the time spent serving. Even in the midst of sheer tiredness I found so much joy in serving

If you know me at all then you know I have a natural inclination to trust people. This worries some because they think I will get into cars with strangers or accidentally give all my money to a criminal, but that is not what it means to trust people the way I do. I understand the faults of humanity and the nature of the world, but I also have a glimpse of what people could be. I have faith that good will triumph over evil, even in the human heart.  I think this trait has had a significant impact on my “success” working with teenagers on the Apache reservation. Coming in I automatically believe in these kids. In the midst of their pain, their mistakes, and their bad habits, I see what they can be and I believe that they will eventually choose the right path. Enclosed in their layers of self-doubt and defensive actions I can see the seed of change struggling to break through. Sure, I get discouraged by their mistakes, but I do not ever doubt that they will one day realize that

My grandfather (known to me as Opa) wrote me a letter the day I was born. Being a well-organized family (ahem), the letter was lost in the abyss of my house for the next twenty years. When I finally received the letter for the first time since being able to read, it became one of my most treasured possessions. My grandfather was out of the country the day I was born and wrote to me of the people around the world rejoicing and praising God for my birth. It is a pretty inspiring letter, and at 24 it really gives me confidence as I look back on where God has taken me since that day. I feel like I was born an international kid, and that has been the driving force of my life since. I cherish his words and his account of when I was born, and I am so grateful for that letter. So today I am giving a letter, to a little girl named Ayden who was prayed for and hoped for, and now she is here. I am so glad to be a part of her life here in California, and I want to do for her what my grandfather

I can’t believe my time at Fuller seminary is almost over. This is my last quarter in Pasadena. Man, how time has flown! Fuller has impacted me greatly, but it hasn’t always been easy. Fuller has an uncanny ability to completely deconstruct and reconstruct everything you thought you knew and wanted. In other words, it is as if you spent your whole life building this grandiose sculpture out of legos, and then your little brother comes and knocks it down.  At first you are kind of angry because you worked darn hard on that thing and it took years to create! It was good! You were comfortable with your creation! So you consider punching said knocker-downer but when you realize you can’t do that you decide instead to question whether you were even meant to build in the first place. Apparently there seems to have been holes in your lego sculpture, problems perhaps, so maybe you weren’t qualified to build and should instead go on to basket weaving or McDonalds serving.  But wit

Life decisions. Seriously. What a mess. You live your whole life as a kid, thinking about growing up, depending on your parents to tell you where to go and what is best, and then all of a sudden you are standing there, on your own, and your time has come. The future is now and you have to make the decision that changes the course of your life. Its pretty overwhelming. People have opinions and you have to sort through them like mail, throwing out the junk, holding tight to the important stuff, and always wondering about the small pile you don’t know what to do with. Time seems relative and you can’t quite figure out if three months is a while or a quick blip of passing moments. You think about all the little tiny details of every option, consider making a pros and cons list, and then ditch that idea because you are hungry and you will probably lose the list anyways. Life decisions. Bleck.  Certainly it would be nice if God could just come down in a dream for a minute and t