Less than two months ago I was on vacation laying at the pool. I started thinking aloud accidentally and said, "I'm so tired of talking about doing good and justice- and never actually doing anything." I went on a little tangent... "Just like I talk about having an active lifestyle all the time. I sit on my butt and watch T.V. like the average lazy American most of the time. I'm just over it!" Ross was there and replied, "Then do something!" I continued on my tangent like I didn't hear him, "Do you know what my kids in Africa would have done for a soccerball!?!? A new pair of shoes? A PLAYGROUND? And here I am with everything I could ever want at my fingertips doing nothing." Ross repeated himself, "Then do something! Send them balls or shoes or something." This comment immediately started my project.
My team of 11 other students and myself keep a running message including everyone on facebook. We send anything and everything and keep in touch. So, I sent my idea to the team, or what we call our Ghanaian family. Everyone loved the idea of raising money and sending over needed items and money to buy items with the next team Lee University sends over in January of 2010. We began brainstorming and Todd Stevinson came up with the name that we all agreed the project should be called, wayEniyie. This is the word meaning, "to restore" in the tribal language of the village we taught in-- Winneba, Ghana. So, I am writing this blog to spread the news.
wayEniyie: to restore is a project that promotes the active lifestyle. There is no other style to life in Africa- as the hundreds of children in Ghana opened our eyes to, this past January-March. Our main goal is to challenge the status quo, routine American way and protest laziness while simultaneously giving children in Africa a safer and more priveleged way to live and play every day. Fundraising will start as soon as we complete a design for the name and logo.
We are hoping to do several fundraisers through 5k's, half-marathons, and marathons... but we also are counting on schools significantly. If a sporting team, club, or even class from any school is willing to sponsor a fundraiser for our project we will split the proceeds 50%/50%, meaning the team makes money for their yearly costs and they give to sporting teams in a third world country at the same time! It's a great deal and a great cause!
If you are interested in contributing, sponsoring a fundraiser, or even speading the word to friends and family please let me know. I will gladly provide you with more information and a copy/attachment of the name and logo design to help out! Last but certainly not least, please pray that this project is a success and we can provide more than we hope to these children. They are the most precious and joyful people I know.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Standing in the face of questions
There are two elements to blogging that I love. The first is the element of transparency. Anyone in the world could read this and be open to the world that I pour onto the keys of my laptop in my room alone. The other element is that no one could ever see it. I have the privilege of being one of those non-famous people that don't have 6,000 followers. :) So with this said, here is what is on my heart today.
What if? What if I would have made different choices? What if I was in a different place today? The funny thing about these questions is I am completely at peace today. I have no question that God has me here for a reason and that he is leading me along the narrow path etched out by his hand. Sometimes I just wonder. Have I always followed God's will and what he put on and inside my heart? Am I a recovery of mistakes that God has miraculously formed into something pleasing in his site? Am I pleasing in his site? I go through these days where I ask myself all kinds of questions.
Today I applied for a job with the World Affairs Council in Northern California. I asked myself. Am I even slightly qualified? I saw a picture of my dear friends on their wedding day last weekend. I asked myself. Am I ever going to get married? Will it be to him? If so, how long will I wait? I am living at home and I am thankful for my parents who provide a free place to stay until I'm on my feet. Yet again, I ask myself. Will my dad ever stop drinking? Will my mom ever leave him?
Today I am still, I am quiet. I know that he is God. I am listening for his voice. I don't have the answers. I stand in peace at the face of questions. This is what is inside my heart today.
Friday, June 19, 2009
The beginning of a great story
Yesterday, Ross and I got in the car and headed to blockbuster. It had been a terrible day for both of us and the most appropriate thing to do in our minds was veg out. As we sat in the car silently reflecting on our individual lives, Ross looked at me and said, "This is how all great stories start."
So, as we agreed-- this is how our epic story is beginning. I graduated from College a month and a half ago. Three days later, I had major surgery... having my right ovary removed due to a tumor the size of a soccer ball. Ross completed his year long internship with Catalyst and a few days later began searching for a job. Although I was not supposed to work for 6 weeks, I decided I was fine after 3 and took a job with EMS/AT&T as a sales representative. I was hired on the spot in my first interview. I should have known there was a catch then. Anyways... I completed my 4 days of training and started selling U-verse TV and Internet... door to door. Meanwhile, Ross continued his search for a job. Each day I added to my employment history with the company the more I learned. I learned that my hours were ridiculous, M-Sat 10:30AM-9PM. I also learned that being in the scorching sun in dress clothes all day left me glazed over and in zombie mode for the 30 minutes to an hour that I could stay awake once I got home. Although in different situations Ross and I both were becoming more drained and miserable by the moment.
Yesterday was the 2 week mark at my job and I basically quit without telling anyone. I was placed in ANOTHER apartment complex and after knocking on 5 doors broke down crying, got in my car, and drove away. Ross still in search of a job... we sat in the car at the light on the way to blockbuster. It started to rain. The AC broken, it got harder to breathe. Ross realized that after his side mirror fell off the previous week, he had forgotten to tape the open wire. And that's where we started laughing. This has got to be the beginning of something great.
"Life is not waiting for the storm to pass, it's learning to dance in the rain."
Friday, April 3, 2009
Reflect
Sometimes I look around at my surroundings, I reflect on what is inside of my heart, and I think about what being a Christian is 'supposed to be' all about... and nothing lines up. Am I crazy because what is around me and inside of me is not what I am "supposed to be"? Is there something in my surrounding that is negatively affecting what I am inside? Does what is in the inside hinder my ability to be this thing called a Christian?
Reflecting is one of those things that is simple yet profound... making it complex... that the average person doesn't think about. While in Africa, one of the professors that took my team over, Charles, shared a short heartfelt opinion on reflection. It has changed my perspective... on more than just reflection. You see, when you reflect- you stop and think about your experiences, what you have learned, gained, lost... and you learn more. It really affects how you remember and how you live from that point on. Try it.
Tonight, I am reflecting on an article that my boyfriend wrote. He e-mailed it to me and asked me to edit/look over it before he put the finishing touches on it. It was about adventure, exploring, and taking a risk. He wrote of the many dreams he had intricately constructed in his heart and mind over his lifetime. He wrote about the excitement of dreams now truly being a possible reality. He wrote about fear. As I lay on the couch of one of my closest friends, my processing mind keeps me awake. The leader of my most valuable relationship has finally reached the starting line and he knows that he is capable- but he's scared to let the sound of the gun shot echo in his ears because then there is a chance of failure. Even though he has got a backbone of support relationally and in his heart of hearts he knows he is capable... thrusting into sprint after such extensive planning and training is nothing short of terrifying. "What if I trip and waste all of the heart and time I have put into this?" "What if I let someone down?" "What if... what if... what if???"
Although I have a competent understanding of the heart of my partner and I sympathize with the tension in his soul- I cannot exactly relate. In fact, as I reflect on the day, the week, and his article... I wonder, "Is something wrong with me?" Like I said in the beginning, when I evaluate it all- nothing quite aligns. The world speaks to me. It tells me what should be funny, fun, entertaining. It tells me what I need... what I don't need which somehow always turns into something else that I need. Confused? Look around you. What does your environment say? What do the people you trust communicate to you? What does your house/apartment, car, clothes, food, cell phone, friends, music, and technology say? Do you listen? Do they say the same things God says about love, service, worship, peace, joy, hope?
Mine don't.
I don't always laugh when the people around me do. Now, honestly this most likely stems from the fact that I am in my own little world and it takes me 30 seconds to a minute longer than everyone else to extract myself from my thinking and register what has just happened. But maybe... just maybe it's not really funny. Maybe I don't relate to the fear in the love of my life's eyes when we speak of dreams and aspirations because there may be a chance I don't have enough fear... if any. The common day, you know- regular Joe shmoe, lifestyle is not what is inside of me OR what I am "supposed to be". I don't wonder if I'm gonna get that job or if the money will be provided for us to travel to that country. I have complete confidence that my escape is someone else's rescue. So rather than fearing the risk, I crave it. Reflect on yourself. Become aware of your surroundings and the continuous communication that mainstreams your heart and mind. Remember that you have the power to choose what you are "supposed to be". I have to remind myself of this, because although your surroundings and lifestyle may define and describe you- you have the choice of what and who you will be. Fear is not the problem. Resistance always keeps a number held back. The real issue is that success and safety feel good- but they are dangerous because often they keep us from the failure that changes our lives and the risk that gets us where we are "supposed to be".
We could have something in common.
Your escape could be someone else's rescue.
Reflect.
Reflecting is one of those things that is simple yet profound... making it complex... that the average person doesn't think about. While in Africa, one of the professors that took my team over, Charles, shared a short heartfelt opinion on reflection. It has changed my perspective... on more than just reflection. You see, when you reflect- you stop and think about your experiences, what you have learned, gained, lost... and you learn more. It really affects how you remember and how you live from that point on. Try it.
Tonight, I am reflecting on an article that my boyfriend wrote. He e-mailed it to me and asked me to edit/look over it before he put the finishing touches on it. It was about adventure, exploring, and taking a risk. He wrote of the many dreams he had intricately constructed in his heart and mind over his lifetime. He wrote about the excitement of dreams now truly being a possible reality. He wrote about fear. As I lay on the couch of one of my closest friends, my processing mind keeps me awake. The leader of my most valuable relationship has finally reached the starting line and he knows that he is capable- but he's scared to let the sound of the gun shot echo in his ears because then there is a chance of failure. Even though he has got a backbone of support relationally and in his heart of hearts he knows he is capable... thrusting into sprint after such extensive planning and training is nothing short of terrifying. "What if I trip and waste all of the heart and time I have put into this?" "What if I let someone down?" "What if... what if... what if???"
Although I have a competent understanding of the heart of my partner and I sympathize with the tension in his soul- I cannot exactly relate. In fact, as I reflect on the day, the week, and his article... I wonder, "Is something wrong with me?" Like I said in the beginning, when I evaluate it all- nothing quite aligns. The world speaks to me. It tells me what should be funny, fun, entertaining. It tells me what I need... what I don't need which somehow always turns into something else that I need. Confused? Look around you. What does your environment say? What do the people you trust communicate to you? What does your house/apartment, car, clothes, food, cell phone, friends, music, and technology say? Do you listen? Do they say the same things God says about love, service, worship, peace, joy, hope?
Mine don't.
I don't always laugh when the people around me do. Now, honestly this most likely stems from the fact that I am in my own little world and it takes me 30 seconds to a minute longer than everyone else to extract myself from my thinking and register what has just happened. But maybe... just maybe it's not really funny. Maybe I don't relate to the fear in the love of my life's eyes when we speak of dreams and aspirations because there may be a chance I don't have enough fear... if any. The common day, you know- regular Joe shmoe, lifestyle is not what is inside of me OR what I am "supposed to be". I don't wonder if I'm gonna get that job or if the money will be provided for us to travel to that country. I have complete confidence that my escape is someone else's rescue. So rather than fearing the risk, I crave it. Reflect on yourself. Become aware of your surroundings and the continuous communication that mainstreams your heart and mind. Remember that you have the power to choose what you are "supposed to be". I have to remind myself of this, because although your surroundings and lifestyle may define and describe you- you have the choice of what and who you will be. Fear is not the problem. Resistance always keeps a number held back. The real issue is that success and safety feel good- but they are dangerous because often they keep us from the failure that changes our lives and the risk that gets us where we are "supposed to be".
We could have something in common.
Your escape could be someone else's rescue.
Reflect.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Confessions of a believer
So, it's been a while. I've been back from Africa for 3 weeks this Saturday. I've been having a lot of thoughts and feelings lately... I know this is usually the start to a really bad conversation (especially coming from a girl) but it's really not like it sounds. I want to share my heart with whoever will listen- so if you've got the time, indulge.
Sometimes I have break downs. I get angry, I cry, I get quiet, I yell, I can't control the emotion spilling over inside of me from the conviction of my life style. It's as if I'm in a coma half of the time and every once in a while I wake up and I'm scared. "Have I already forgotten?" "Why can't I see their faces anymore?" It's been three weeks and all too often I find myself in my comfortable clothes, in my comfortable car, driving home from my comfortable teaching, to my comfortable home. Why is it that in these sudden moments that comfortable is uncomfortable? It's in fact rather painful. My heart pains me. My soul hungers to be...
And that's just it. I miss being the Christian that I was in Africa. I miss the raw, transparent beauty of Christs love. My life in America is so full of 'things'. Full of unneeded selfish things that make me comfortable. How do I break free? I want so bad to sing and dance in the streets the way I did in Ghana with the children. I want to take long walks and stand speechless in awe of God every day. I want to strip away all the shit that blurs God's truth. Our lives have become pollution that are smog over what Christianity is supposed to be. I struggle. Some days, I push it to the back of my mind because I don't know how to face it. Others I sit and cry, I think and reflect, write-read-and-pray. Where is the happy medium?
All the fluff, the religion, the food, the money, the expectations- I want to flip the switch and hear it grind bit by bit until it disintegrates into nothing. I don't want to complain and be another griping unhappy 'faith-filled' American who has everything... yet, I don't want to keep quiet. It is eating me alive. How do I live with this disease?
Sometimes I have break downs. I get angry, I cry, I get quiet, I yell, I can't control the emotion spilling over inside of me from the conviction of my life style. It's as if I'm in a coma half of the time and every once in a while I wake up and I'm scared. "Have I already forgotten?" "Why can't I see their faces anymore?" It's been three weeks and all too often I find myself in my comfortable clothes, in my comfortable car, driving home from my comfortable teaching, to my comfortable home. Why is it that in these sudden moments that comfortable is uncomfortable? It's in fact rather painful. My heart pains me. My soul hungers to be...
And that's just it. I miss being the Christian that I was in Africa. I miss the raw, transparent beauty of Christs love. My life in America is so full of 'things'. Full of unneeded selfish things that make me comfortable. How do I break free? I want so bad to sing and dance in the streets the way I did in Ghana with the children. I want to take long walks and stand speechless in awe of God every day. I want to strip away all the shit that blurs God's truth. Our lives have become pollution that are smog over what Christianity is supposed to be. I struggle. Some days, I push it to the back of my mind because I don't know how to face it. Others I sit and cry, I think and reflect, write-read-and-pray. Where is the happy medium?
All the fluff, the religion, the food, the money, the expectations- I want to flip the switch and hear it grind bit by bit until it disintegrates into nothing. I don't want to complain and be another griping unhappy 'faith-filled' American who has everything... yet, I don't want to keep quiet. It is eating me alive. How do I live with this disease?
Thursday, February 12, 2009
My crazy class!
School has gotten better and better. The girls are starting to understand what I expect from them ... as well as just understand me better in general. I've realized that the thing that is going to stay with these children is not the material I am teaching them. It is the love, time, and encouragement that I give them that will remain a part of their lives. So, regardless how difficult classroom management and discipline gets- I just try and remind myself.... LOVE's the only way.
Friday with Benedicta
Friday's are always the best at school here. We have worship the first hour of the day and P.E. and Games the last hour. So... from start to finish it's a ton of fun. This past Friday, Sarah and I were extremely excited because we had planned to take Benedicta back to the lodge for lunch and to the beach.
As the day came to an end we asked Benedicta if she wanted to walk or take a taxi to our house. We normally walk to and from school each day. It's a fantastic experience. The children yell and wave, some run up to you and hug you. You feel like a million bucks soaked in sweat. There's nothing better really. haha.... anyways, I'm getting off subject. Benedicta wanted to take a taxi. She was tearing up a little bit from hunger pains and it was extremely hot. So we caught a taxi and headed to the lodge. When I was a little girl, my Mema would always take me out on the most unexpected occasions. She would let me eat where ever I wanted and would take me shopping for new clothes. I remember feeling like a princess. But- on this particular day- I got to see what it felt like to make the little girl feel like a princess. I never knew it could feel so good.
Benedicta ordered chicken and rice. She only ate a little bit and took the rest to her family. We showed her our room at the lodge and she was blown away. Her eyes were big and she just kept asking, "This is where you stay!?!?!" Here in Ghana- the Lagoon Lodge is where most locals spend their honeymoon, so we are very fortunate. She was unusually quiet. I think she was a little overwhelmed- so Sarah and I asked plenty of questions to keep her talking. She doesn't have a bed or a pillow... or a blanket. She sleeps on the ground. Her parents are in the ministry and they don't make her or her brother Isaac sell before or after school... but in return they are very very poor.
Next we hit the beach. Benedicta grabbed a ride on my back and we skipped along the dirt path. We got to the ocean front and my little talkative friend went completely silent. She was scared. The waves were crashing and you could feel the salty mist in the air. Sarah and I tried to get her to walk closer... she sat down in mid step. So... we sat with her and slowly inched closer. We buried our feet, played slaps, and talked. Once we were good and sandy, I hopped up went to the water to rinse off and flicked some water from my fingers on Benedicta. She smiled and saw that the water didn't eat me alive. She decided to stand up- holding Sarah and my hand and walk closer. It's as if something clicked! She loved it! She kept getting closer and closer! She felt so confident with Sarah and I by her side that her bravery soared! A huge wave crashed at our feet and the water splashed higher than our heads. I quickly looked down at Benedicta to see if she was okay. She looked shocked... then she said, "Salt?" with a puzzled look on her face. I smiled, my heart touched. "Yes, there is salt in the ocean water."
After a short walk down the beach, picking up a sea shell or two for Benedicta to take back to her mother, we headed back to the lodge to call a taxi. I gave her a back pack that I had bought on the way home from school a few days earlier. She used it to pack her leftovers from lunch and her books from school. She was silent the entire taxi ride home but smiled from ear to ear.
I got to witness a little girl seeing the ocean for the first time. It was beyond words.
As the day came to an end we asked Benedicta if she wanted to walk or take a taxi to our house. We normally walk to and from school each day. It's a fantastic experience. The children yell and wave, some run up to you and hug you. You feel like a million bucks soaked in sweat. There's nothing better really. haha.... anyways, I'm getting off subject. Benedicta wanted to take a taxi. She was tearing up a little bit from hunger pains and it was extremely hot. So we caught a taxi and headed to the lodge. When I was a little girl, my Mema would always take me out on the most unexpected occasions. She would let me eat where ever I wanted and would take me shopping for new clothes. I remember feeling like a princess. But- on this particular day- I got to see what it felt like to make the little girl feel like a princess. I never knew it could feel so good.
Benedicta ordered chicken and rice. She only ate a little bit and took the rest to her family. We showed her our room at the lodge and she was blown away. Her eyes were big and she just kept asking, "This is where you stay!?!?!" Here in Ghana- the Lagoon Lodge is where most locals spend their honeymoon, so we are very fortunate. She was unusually quiet. I think she was a little overwhelmed- so Sarah and I asked plenty of questions to keep her talking. She doesn't have a bed or a pillow... or a blanket. She sleeps on the ground. Her parents are in the ministry and they don't make her or her brother Isaac sell before or after school... but in return they are very very poor.
Next we hit the beach. Benedicta grabbed a ride on my back and we skipped along the dirt path. We got to the ocean front and my little talkative friend went completely silent. She was scared. The waves were crashing and you could feel the salty mist in the air. Sarah and I tried to get her to walk closer... she sat down in mid step. So... we sat with her and slowly inched closer. We buried our feet, played slaps, and talked. Once we were good and sandy, I hopped up went to the water to rinse off and flicked some water from my fingers on Benedicta. She smiled and saw that the water didn't eat me alive. She decided to stand up- holding Sarah and my hand and walk closer. It's as if something clicked! She loved it! She kept getting closer and closer! She felt so confident with Sarah and I by her side that her bravery soared! A huge wave crashed at our feet and the water splashed higher than our heads. I quickly looked down at Benedicta to see if she was okay. She looked shocked... then she said, "Salt?" with a puzzled look on her face. I smiled, my heart touched. "Yes, there is salt in the ocean water."
After a short walk down the beach, picking up a sea shell or two for Benedicta to take back to her mother, we headed back to the lodge to call a taxi. I gave her a back pack that I had bought on the way home from school a few days earlier. She used it to pack her leftovers from lunch and her books from school. She was silent the entire taxi ride home but smiled from ear to ear.
I got to witness a little girl seeing the ocean for the first time. It was beyond words.
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