Blessings

My friend Andrea called me yesterday while I was at church and left a message on my facebook telling me she was driving through Oregon on her way back to B.C. from Cali, and was wondering if I had time to hang out and if her and her two roommates could crash at our house for a little while before continuing on the drive home. To say I was excited is a total understatement. Andrea and I have been friends since I was about 9 and she was 10; we met on our boats in Desolation Sound, Brittish Columbia. Her family is from Calgary, Alberta but would also go to Desolation Sound for the summers. We met in the summer of '99 and hung out almost all summer, and before we returned home, my mom suggested we consider becoming pen pals. So we did. We wrote to each other at least once every two weeks for YEARS. It's actually incredible just how long we've kept up being pen pals; we still write to each other!  We've been trying to figure out a time and place to get together since Andi's been at school in Vancouver, B.C. studying youth ministry but hadn't been able to make it work. We hadn't seen each other for almost 5 years. So this was a long overdue reunion. My favorite part about it all is just how much of a surprise it was for me!! 

It was as if we had just seen each other the week before when she got to our house Sunday night. We went through my box of letters that had all of her letters she'd written to me, dating all the way back to 1999, and were cracking up for hours just reading what Andrea wrote as a 10, 11 and 12 year old. We found a picture of us from when we were probably 13 and 14, the last time we saw each other, and commented on how both of us were so much skinnier back then.(I put the picture up here, along with one we decided to recreate before she left). We stayed up late reminding each other of some of the greatest memories we had from our summers hanging out together; there were sooo many great memories!! I just kept thinking what an incredible blessing it was to have this friend in my life, and how great it has been to have such a phenomenal sister to go through the years with, even if not in person together. We went to the Gov Cup monday while her roommates went to do some "American" shopping at stores like Nordstrom and Bath and Body Works, and just talked about anything and everything for hours. We talked about homeless ministries, missions ministries, youth ministries, (lots of ministries, now that I'm writing it out), relationships. . .  so much!! After the rain died down, we went to Riverfront and walked around awhile, then rode the Carousel. We also checked out some of the stores that aren't in Canada before reuniting with her roommates so they could continue the drive home. 

I just think this was the most incredible blessing for me to see Andrea so unexpectedly, especially with how hard of a time I was having missing everyone in Ecuador just days ago. I was thinking while we were going to sleep Sunday night, just how blessed I was to have the friendship that I do with Andrea. She and I are soo alike, it astounds me!! I love her so much, and still can't believe she was just here hours ago after having not seen each other for so many years. 

my missing

I really miss my friends and family in Ecuador right now. Just today has felt like this overwhelming wave of hurt and loss. 

This just really sucks right now. 

I know I've put up these lyrics before, but I need to see them again. 

You should see the stars tonight

How they shimmer, shine so bright

Against the black they look so white

Coming down from such a height 

To reach me now

You reach me now

You should see the moon in flight

Cutting cross a mystic night

Softly dancing in sunshine

Reflections of His light

Reach me now

You reach me now

And how could such a thing

Shine it's light on me?

And make everything

Beautiful again

You should feel the sun in spring

Coming out after a rain

Suddenly all is green

Sunshine on everything

I can feel it now

I feel You now

And how could such a thing

Shine it's light on me? 

and make everything

Beautiful, and you should hear the angels sing

All gathered round their King

More beautiful than you could dream

And then quietly listening

You can hear 'em now

I hear 'em now

And how could such a King

Shine His light on me? 

And make everything 

Beautiful

and I wanna shine

I wanna be a light

I wanna tell you it'll be alright

And I wanna shine

I wanna fly

just to tell you know it'll be alright

it'll be alright

it'll be alright

Cause I've got nothing of my own to give to you

But this Light that shines on me, shines on you

And makes everything

Beautiful

Again. 

It'll be alright

It'll be alright. 

-David Crowder "Stars"

One Year.

"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing." - C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed.

In C.S. Lewis' a grief observed, he writes through his dealings with the death of his wife Helen,  of whom he only refers to as "H" throughout the book, I'm assuming because even writing the name of his passed wife rips open the wound each time. 

 

It's been one whole year since Jared Nagel died. And today feels like the weirdest day. Yesterday was the actual year mark, but today feels even more off than yesterday did to me. I feel like I'm in a weird rut. . . and I can't talk my way out of it, or explain why I'm feeling the way I am. . . 

I remember my family was watching the movie King of California when I got a call from my friend Jessica. Being as she isn't even in Oregon anymore, I was so excited to see that I was getting a call from her. I went in to my room, and answered excitedly. She wasn't anywhere near as enthusiastic, and I asked what was going on. 

"Jared had an accident. . . " I knew Jared to be a crazy kid, so his having an accident wasn't exactly shocking news. I thought it was just like any of the other times before. Not that I ever got calls about them, though. I asked if he was alright. 

"He's dead, Ali." 

I sat in my room for about 20 minutes just staring at my wall. Not thinking. Just sitting. Staring. I went into the living room, and I looked at Chaz sitting on the couch. I tried to tell him that Jared had died, but before I could even get the sentence out, the tears finally came. I was bawling and couldn't stop. I called my friend Kristin and asked if I could stay the night at her house. I didn't want to be alone, and for some odd reason, I didn't really want to be in my house either. I cried most of the night and couldn't sleep the rest of it. 

Now the strangest thing in the midst of all of this, is that something inside of me always makes me feel guilty for grieving. Guilty. There's something in me that always feels like a phony; I wasn't his best friend, I wasn't as close to him as, say, Chaz or Paige or Lucas or Beth or Jessica. . . they surely have a right to be torn-up about this. I don't. But that doesn't make it go away. If anything, this false-conviction leaves me even more tangled trying to deal with grief and a twisted feeling of being unworthy to be so upset from losing Jared. I still confuse myself. I feel like I'm in that place again, with it being a whole year since Jared has died. I feel the sadness and the emptiness. And I also feel like this is somehow not ok for me to feel this way. That the people who should be feeling this way are his family and his best friends. Not me. Why does the enemy always have to torment me?! 

Next Fall

So, this school has been one I've looked into and thought about off and on for the past couple of years, but it has been weighing heavily on my heart for a couple of weeks now. As in, seriously considering the possibility of attending the school in the Fall of 2009. To save you from the exhausting list of my personal questions and thoughts about actually attending Eternity Bible College, I'll just post the link to their website. Look around a bit. . . read some of what they have to say about the program. . . watch Francis Chan's video about his heart for what the school should be like. . . and I would love to hear your feedback. 

I have my moments where I just think "man, I really, really feel like this school sounds like my place. My niche." but then I have my moments where I go through my list of "what ifs. . ." and I begin to think maybe it's not so much the place for me. But the majority of the time, I look at it and go "I feel like I would love it here." 

Tell me some of your thoughts! :) 

Eternity Bible College in Simi Valley, CA

Desire

I finally got my birthday package today. As most of you know, I came home from Macas a week before my birthday, and unfortunately friends and family had already sent down birthday packages for me, so they arrived after I was already back in the states. Months later, I finally got my package! There were socks (mom. . .?), the I Heart Revolution CD (YESSSS!!!!), Paint sets, a crap load of chocolate (I'm not even kidding. . . three ghirardelli raspberry chocolate bars, a bag of Indiana Jones M&Ms, and two huge bags of ghirardelli squares. . . if anybody wants some, please, give me a call), a journal, a book on prayer life, and many many cards. Birthday cards that said how much I was loved, missed, and how proud people were of me. As much as these were meant to be read while I was in Ecuador and reminded of the joy friends and family take in sharing the journey with me, reading them now was. . . depressing, really. I feel bad about my meoldramatic attitude lately (I'm sooo sorry, I'm sure this is getting to the point of annoying by now. It's just not that easy, friends.) but I couldn't help but think, just a few months ago I was loving on people and building relationships and my prayer life and heart was in such a different place. Now. . . well, I feel really apathetic and I'm in classes at school just for the sake of giving myself something to do, and part of me can't help but form the words "failure" and "inferior" in my mind. Constantly. It hurts. 

Then I found this poem that Tifani sent me. For those of you who have never read George MacDonald's work, start with his "Diary of an Old Soul". My word, he has a gift! This poem is a favorite of mine, and has especially penetrating words for my heart right now: 

When I can no more stir my soul to move, 

And life is but the ashes of a fire; 

When I can but remember that my heart

Once used to live and love, long and aspire - 

Oh, be Thou then the first, the one Thou art, 

Be Thou the calling, before all answering love, 

And in me wake hope, fear, boundless desire. 

How real this poem feels to me now is . . . indescribable. LORD, I crave desire more than anything right now. Desire to begin the long, draining process of peace and healing and rest. I am sooo uncomfortable with waiting and I know that right now is where God wants me to be, but I can't help but feel incompetent and pathetic. I hear those lies and I look at my surroundings and go "how can that not be true?" I crave desire to be awaken in my heart and in my spirit once again. I need Truth and I can't really "stir my soul to move" by my own power. LORD knows I've tried. I need Him more than ever.

When the Heart Waits

"That's the sacred intent of life, of God - to move us continuously toward growth, toward recovering all that is lost and orphaned within us, and restoring the divine image imprinted on our soul. And rarely do significant shifts come without a sense of our being lost in dark woods. . ."

- [Sue Monk Kidd, When The Heart Waits]

The way I tend to describe how I'm feeling, is comparing it to being in the middle of a fog. When there's fog, you can't see very far in front of you, and it makes you feel anxious and sometimes a little panicky. And you know that eventually the fog will lift, but for the time being, your stuck in a fog and it's disorienting and confusing. And being stuck in a fog, well, it sucks. And it's not as simple as waving your hands and it all dissolves away. I wish it was. 

"[my husband] wanted me to 'snap out of it'. I did too, of course. I had ordered myself to do just that numerous times. But it was sort of like looking at an encroaching wave and telling it to recede. Demanding didn't make it happen." 

When I read that last paragraph in Kidd's book, I felt like I was reading something that could have come out of my own journal. I have tried so many times to just "snap out of it." I've had people tell me to just move on. I've told myself to just move on. I've told myself to let go. Sooo many times. But it has yet to really make anything happen. I feel like there are a lot of people around me who have expected me to move on by now. And are disappointed that I haven't. And I really don't know what to tell them. It's not that easy. Healing and resting and waiting on God. . . isn't the process I thought it would be. And that's ok. 

Yesterday I called my friend Isaac from Macas. He's the one who runs the orphanage. He told me he's returning to Riobamba in January. And I talked with him some about my coming home, and what that's been like. I didn't have a chance to even say goodbye to him or the kids, along with many other friends, so we haven't talked for some months. He had many encouraging and affirming things to say, including the importance of laying down my anxieties and thoughts at the foot of the Throne. He says returning to Riobamba isn't exactly something he would like to do; it's hard to pick up and move all the kids and to leave Macas, what with all the gossip surrounding why he's leaving, according to everyone else. But in reality, he needs to surrender it all to the LORD, because God has called him back to Riobamba. I don't know if I did justice to just how encouraging this conversation was to me, but it meant a lot. Isaac was someone I got to know very well in Macas, and was one of maybe four people I could talk with in english. I loved getting to visit with him and the kids at the orphanage, and he always reminded me so much of my brothers. I think they would be great friends if they met. I know he has become a very great friend for me. 

I miss my ñaña

I really miss Ivonne lately. I always miss all of my friends and the people that I love so much from Ecuador. It's hard being away from all of them. But lately, it's been especially weighing on my heart how much I really love my sister and how much I miss her. 

I called Ivonne tonight and this was what the first few minutes of our conversation were like:

me: "hooooola ñaña!!" 

Ivonne: "Ali, where am I?"

me: "uh. . . . what?"

Ivonne: "guess where I am!"

Me: ". . . somewhere in Macas. . . "

Ivonne: "[laughing] But what can you hear"

me: [pause] Oh!! You're at the river!!"

Ivonne: [laughing again] yes!! " 

Me: "Are you going swimming at 11 o clock at night?! Are you crazy?! I can't leave you alone for five minutes. . ."

Ivonne: "I know, I know. But don't worry, I'm not swimming. just on a walk with Fernando."

me: "ooooo, FerNANdo!"

Ivonne: "oh no, there's a huge truck going over the bridge and it's shaking! I think it's going to break!!"

Me: "WHAT?!"

Ivonne: "[laughing] just kidding!! Nothing's happening."

The rest of the phone call was pretty much the same: lot's of joking around and laughing sooo hard. And that was what things were like when we were together. We always could make each other laugh and smile, even when we were tired or unhappy or in tears. Well, during the moment of tears we'd hug and pray and then whoever wasn't crying would say something witty to make the other one laugh. :) 

I think it's so great how Ivonne and I became instant friends. The very first night I was in Ecuador, when we were in Quito, we talked most of the night in our hotel room. Skipped the awkward and went straight to the we're-practically-gonna-be-sisters!! feeling.  In the next couple of days, we went to see Batman together and went on my first ever ice skating excursion, went walking around Quito, talked forever and laughed until my stomach was hurting and Ivonne's eyes were watering. I asked her what some Quichua words were that I should learn, and she told me that "ñaña" means sister, and from that day on we always call each other ñaña. 

I just miss her so much. I miss getting to pray together. I miss our mornings together reading in the Word and talking about what we thought. I miss her hugs and I miss her facial expressions. 

I miss my ñaña. Phone calls can only do so much.