Revealing Grace

Well, the school year is officially over and this week summer begins! For some people, summer means a break. For AYM, summer means things get crazy. This summer, for instance, we lose our regular programming but gain 10 short-term teams from around the United States. That means b.u.s.y. In addition to working with these awesome teams, we also have to work at making sure that we don't drop our own students in the hustle and bustle of accommodating and loving on our visitors. For us, the summer becomes a balance. It is a balance of caring for multiple groups of people, from different backgrounds, with different stories and expectations. And we are blessed because our short term teams are fantastic, and our AYM students are so lovely and flexible and kind and excited.  But there is a danger in trying to accommodate so many needs that we forget about the purpose behind it all.  For me, as I prepare for the summer I get small bouts of anxiety, because I want it to be perfect for e...

"You've got to believe in God," he said. "The world is too wretched for there not to be something beyond this. Believe there will be justice in the next life. We should fear no evil, eh? 'Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death. . . thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.'" - Mary Horlock  In my line of work I see a lot of hard things. Much of it is the result of choices made, footsteps followed in, and one's own volition, but it is suffering all the same. As my daily life has joined with the struggles of Native American young people, my view of God has many times been clouded. It has become harder and harder to understand His ways, His goodness, and His character. But it is in those moments, when frustrations rise and my students' lives don't seem to make any sense, that I stop to think of the one thing that I do know for sure. And that is this- that there was a historical man named Jesus, who coul...

Written after traveling to my university, Georgia College, at the beginning of my trip home.  It is such a joy to be home, to be in the place that formed me, grew me, challenged me. It is such a privilege to be around motivation, to cast vision for what my students could be, will be, with the right push and the right care. As I walk around this place I envision what it would look like for my students to achieve this , to believe that this can be their future. I have dreams of walking the campus with my girls, of introducing them to key people, of inspiring them to reach for a better future that they can see, imagine, embrace. What great blessing it is to have connections , to have good hands to pass to. How amazing that this has been my life. And isn't that what I bring to the table? No, I haven't had their suffering, but I have had the future that I want to be available to them. I have had the experiences and I have the passion to believe that they too can be formed ...

I'm home. . .sprawled out on the couch at my parents' house, planning on visiting my alma mater Georgia College this afternoon, and I am thrilled. Actually, more than thrilled, I am at peace. My work, which I love with all my heart, is rather dysfunctional. Nothing is predictable. Nothing is simple. The issues are intense and the problems are serious. But that dysfunction is my normal. So seeing as I don't burst into tears all that often anymore, and I don't have terrific mood swings, I figured that my work wasn't really having a negative impact on me. I figured that my life was normal. But then I got home. And my parent's house was so clean and functional. And my dad made the same obnoxious comment that he has made literally every time I get off a plane for the last 5 years ( "So. . .does everyone where you live say 'like' so much?") . And there were no worries of bedbugs or hair-bugs. And it was so quiet and peaceful, I was remove...

Home. It has always meant so much to me, even though so many places have been called by that name. Sure, I moved around quite a bit but I always had at least two places that I called "going home." As I've grown up I now have my own home in Arizona (that I have become mildly obsessed with making into my own) and I will forever have my parents' home in Georgia, to which I will return next week. And as much as I have felt like a vagabond, a wandering traveler, a nomad, I've never had to worry for where I could go to and be loved on and feel safe. This is perhaps one of my greatest heartaches and greatest challenges to understand as I work with these most fabulous and frustrating students. For some of them, there is no place to call home. There is a place where they can lay their head and be fed, but there is no place where they can go and feel safe, feel loved, feel cared for. Each house in which they stay comes with its own set of drama, sadness, distrust. And ...