Revealing Grace

“So. . .how do you two know each other?” the bank teller asked us (with slight skepticism) within a few minutes of arriving.  “I work at the Kennel” (we were at the bank on the reservation), “So I guess we are a weird kind of family,” I replied with a smile. My kiddo smiled too.  What the bank teller didn't know when she sat us down at her station was that she was about to be part of a most victorious event.  This was the moment when one of my students was to open her very first bank account. It was most definitely one of the proudest moments of my mentoring career. We sat there in the bank as unconventional family  trying to figure out all the details (like home addresses and billing addresses and all sorts of other important but harder than necessary details) and I watched my kiddo take this moment so seriously. She had just a touch of nervousness and excitement.  I realized what a big moment it was for her when we were setting up her savings ac...

There are a few things in my life that I cannot live without. The first one is chocolate. I inherited that from my father, who changed the “apple a day” saying and never went back. The second one is people. The second one has a caveat that the first one does not have. The caveat is that a lot of times I deny that the second one exists at all.  Case in point: When I moved to California I actually told the person I now call one of my best friends that I wasn’t looking for any friends. I had enough and didn’t need any more . Word for word. I told her that to her face. Those are the moments you look back on and shake your head.  As I reflect on the necessity of number 2 (and my frequent denial of it), I realize how detrimental the word “busy” has become. Busy has become an excuse in my life to push the all-important relationships out of my oh-so-precious time schedule. “Busy” means I never check my voicemail (turns out four precious friends from the East Coast had called ...

If there is one thing I have learned since moving to Whiteriver (and I have learned a lot) it is perhaps  the true meaning of joy.    It is hard to believe that in the midst of a hurting community, in the midst of learning to deal with such pain, that one could feel that life is the best that it could possibly be. It is hard to reconcile the life of a missionary working with kids that break your heart everyday as an excitedly happy life. Certainly a lot of my writings deal with my struggles as I engage with my work environment, but the struggles do not negate the joy. There is a certain kind of happiness that comes from doing exactly what God wants you to do, and serving Him wholeheartedly in the place to which He has led you. Days can be tough and each week might leave me with more questions than answers, but I have never felt more at peace in a place . I make so many mistakes, I have to work through so many hard situations, but this community has become my communi...

Let me tell you. . . lately I've been prone to losing my mind. In 2 weeks I've managed to lose my house key, lose my phone, and today I came back after a few hours out hiking to realize that I'd left the trunk of my car open in the parking lot. My brain is officially kaput. To make matters more ridiculous, my phone was lost for three days and it turns out that the whole time it was in the driver's side door of my car. Literally inches from me. (Still no sign of the key.) How does that happen?? And sheer exhaustion makes everything heightened.  To the point that I cried when my pastor asked how I was doing and I just wanted to say, "Hey, don't worry. These aren't real emotions. I'm just. so. tired." So I lose everything and I can't remember what I am supposed to be doing or where I am going and it all gets a little hazy for about a week. And I'm telling you, I feel a little crazy and dysfunctional. And like I need a trip to a beac...

Everyone always gives Martha a hard time. You know, Martha whose sister is Mary in the story with Jesus? People love Mary. She sits and listens and doesn't worry. But Martha, man, she should have known better, right? That's JESUS sitting at your house. Chill out. Everyone gives Martha a hard time. But I'm pretty sure Martha and I kind of get each other. Martha was doing her best. She was trying to serve Jesus by working hard and by worrying about the preparations. Perhaps, like me, she felt that her worry in and of itself was for Jesus. I mean come on, we are trying to do His work and He told us that "the harvest is plenty and the workers are few." So seriously, the workers are meant to be pretty worn out, am I right? Well, at least that is how Martha and I think. We go go go and do do do, not because we think we are awesome but because we really do love Jesus. A lot. And we are doing what we think He wants. And then one day we are so tired that we see some...

Endurance.  When I was in middle school I was an endurance runner. That’s right. For my three glorious years of absolute awkwardness I ran cross-country. I was without fail, one of the worst endurance runners you have ever seen. My claim to fame was that I was never ever last in a race.  I was second to last in almost every race.  This tiny victory, the fact that at least one person was still behind me, was what I held on to. Others did not see this placing as a success, but I always did. I was proud because I had stuck it through the race. And though others may have seen me as slow or inconsequential in winning the race, I never counted myself a failure. I never came in last and that was something.  As we think about endurance, endurance through this week, through this life, through our relationship with Christ, I think we can learn a lot from awkward middle-school Meredith.  Whether we work with middle class, lower class, any class studen...