In Which I Travel Again.....

Here we go again.
Ah! The life of a wayfaring stranger. I'm a wee bit gypsy, I think.
Travel and new homes.
New friends and new faces.

I've kissed the new little face I came to see in Georgia, so this weekend will find me traveling again. Kentucky should be another month of new little people and learning.
I'm sure that too, will look different than I expect it to.


 This 'coming home' thing is not as simple as one might think. While I find open arms and kindness everywhere I turn, my heart doesn't feel settled anywhere. My season in the Philippines is over, yet Wisconsin, with all it's charm and beauty, is not a permanent settling place for me.

And this heart wasn't made to settle. It was made to strive for more.

I have a bit of a fear of 'falling into' the hustle and bustle of everything here, and forgetting to move on.

My prayer at present is for purpose and vision. For clear direction and next steps.
In this season I'm knocking on doors, turning over stones, and trying to find a place that God is working so I can join Him.

And I'm trying to rest. Refresh. Rebuild.






As usual I have big dreams and big ideas. The difficulty now is sorting out the ones that belong to me, and the ones that come from Him.

I'm striving to be prudent and diligent in the meanwhile, stewarding my time in a way that will honor Him.

The God of all peace is where my heart finds home. He is my vision and my soul's true desire.
May this wanderlust keep me ever cognizant that this world is not my home. May it keep me from settling for comfort over courage. May it turn my face ever toward Him.

Another Birthday...

This isn't a post about my birthday, though I do have one of those that seems to float by once-a-year-ish. It is about the birthday of a little girl who arrived 10 days after my birthday. She has a head-full of black hair, dark grey eyes, and the most darling expressions I've ever seen.

One of the benefits of being a traveling, live-in midwife, is that you really get to know your patients, and depending on when your flight is booked, you really get to know their little babies too. I've had the treat of two weeks of newborn snuggles. But now for the main event.

It was not-quite-4am. Outside, the dark cloak of night still clung tightly about dawn's shoulders. My unconsciousness was interrupted by a knocking at my door. I bolted upright, fumbling for my clock. My jumbled thoughts couldn't determine whether I had overslept or if something else was afoot. I opened my door about as far as my eyes were managing to be open. Before me stood a slightly anxious/excited version of the father-to-be. Ah, this made sense. It was B-day.

Thing was, contractions were still pretty spaced out. Based on what I was seeing, I anticipated a long day ahead. The whole household was awake now, making phone calls, boiling water, and giving lots of advice to the laboring mamma.  Mommy, Daddy, and I decided to move the party upstairs. After a prayer, a few photos, and a little laying-out of my equipment something shifted. Contractions were announcing themselves more aggressively, and forcing a longer acquaintance.  Still far enough apart to predict a few more hours of labor, but a bit obstinate now.

 Then came the doozy. 3 minutes of it. And oh! That would be the baby's head I can see! Then sweetly, between contractions, baby girl turned her head and pushed with her feet and birthed her own head. I want to know this girl when she's 20, she's destined to be a world-changer. Nothing like making things happen from the beginning. Then how she yelled. Strong and lusty, just as we had prayed for. Proclaiming her birthday for all the world.

It was like the movies. Every time I opened the bedroom door, 15 eager pairs of eyes turned in my direction. Was she here? Was it time to see baby? Was everything ok? How much did she weigh? Was that really only 3 hours? But mamma and baby needed some time. Daddy and I had some cleaning up to do. So coffee and pastries had to fill in for first sights of a newborn. Then, finally, amid an assault of first pictures and ooohs and aaahs, little girl made her public debut.

That's how it was, folks. Another whirlwind labor and birth. Another snugly, perfect newborn and another happy older brother. And then two weeks of joy, here in Honduras. Smiles, diapers, Spanish, baths, snuggles, and fellowship. And that, was another birthday.

This Wonderful Life....

I sat there, a rooftop in Honduras. Gathered around me were brothers and sisters from Honduras, Ukraine, and the States. Spanish prayer ascended into the clear, star specked sky above us and to one side the silhouettes of mountains rose majestically in the dim night sky. In the opposite direction lightening danced through the distant layers of clouds performing an ode to the Creator. The temperature was perfect at day's end. I thought to myself, 'Who lives this life? How can everything be so perfect?'

It is me. This is my life. I'm treasuring these moments because in this place of an uncertain future, I need perfect spaces like this where I can be indisputably reminded of God's goodness and kindness. I'm thankful for the blessing of fellowship with other believers, and the grace of a time of rest. May the God who has given me this beautiful time, be glorified.

Next Stop Honduras...

My cute little white boy

There are so many ways my life could go next. This incredible, uncertain way of being is sort of frighteningly wonderful. Although I have no long term plans, I have graciously been provided another baby-catching opportunity. Monday, I fly to Honduras to assist in the birth of a little girl. Lord-willing I will stay three weeks with the family, helping them welcome their second child.

A little about the birth of this little boy pictured here. He decided to initiate me into Certified Midwifery by making his entrance into the world backwards, which rather surprised me. Then, to make life even more exciting, he delayed breathing for over 5 minutes. I don't think I have to tell you that a lot of prayers went up. As I pumped air into his tiny lungs, I just remember saying, 'God, you are the creator and giver of life, I cannot give life to this child. Please let him breathe and give life now!' The mercy of God toward us was overwhelming, and God did just that, He gave life to this cute little white boy.

I cannot think of a better way to attend my first independent birth. God gave wisdom and helped me remember my training, but ultimately, He was the only one who could come through for this child. I have such a poignant example of how I need Him in every birth, in every situation. Even more importantly, I can so clearly see His faithfulness in being mighty to save. These are things that can so easily be taken for granted. He is the faithful God who keeps His promises and acts mightily on behalf of His children.

First white baby I ever caught

It is gracious of God to have me in this brokenly-whole sort of place. I see Him directing my every step. In some ways, coming back to the States makes me feel stripped of everything, lost, and broken. In other ways as I can look back and see where I've been, I feel so whole and confident in who He has made me and the things He is doing in me. And so I find myself both whole and broken in the same instant. While life goes on, I see how my whole story is very much a becoming-sort-of-thing rather than a being-sort-of-thing. Also, super yay for Honduras, because the thought of adjusting to another developing nation is in many ways less intimidating than adjusting back to the States.

So yes, God is moving and working in my life. Questions abound, as does His grace. He is daily guiding me and purging me, and I WILL see the faithfulness of God as these next steps continue to unfold. So many decisions and so many blessings all at once. And this heart is overwhelmed on both accounts. But I know in Whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that it's all gonna be worth it.

It is Finished...

It is finished. This journey to become a Certified Professional Midwife (CPM). I'm trained now, though still with plenty to learn. And what a happy thing! I'm done with my huge exam, done with my Philippine training.

"What's next?" You may ask. That is exactly what I'm trying to figure out. I desire to 'go into all the world'. It is merely a matter of when, where, how, and with whom. And God, in His perfect time and way, will reveal that. Until then, I'm here waiting. I'm rejoicing with my sister in her upcoming marriage, helping with wedding plans, and I caught myself a cute little white boy.

Yes, I'm knocking on doors, and yes, I have many huge decisions to make. And yes, I'd love to continue to have you lift me up in your prayers. Much love to all! I'll keep you updated as the next adventures begin to unfold.

On Final Days....

My final days in the Philippines were filled with such sweet sorrow. 'Babies' I welcomed, now children, walking, talking, so grown up! Friends and co-workers who have become like family to me, goodbyes... some that will never be 'hello's again in this life. On my last Sunday I wrote this:






Crawling to the throne of Jesus,
Lying at His feet in silent plee.
Surrendered, Surrendering, Empty.

Empty as I should be.
No plans, no control.
Offering me, it's all I have.
Waiting for His dreams to take root in my heart.

Lying prone, the ultimate surrender.
He may do what He will, I offer Him control
This prison of freedom to which I've succumbed.

And yes, its uncomfortable.
But oh! Such peace.
That His will may be my goal.

Then a wonderful visit in Manlia with these friends and their children. I jumping off point, a last, sweet farewell until the next country that brings us together. A Sunday church service. A heart's prayer in the form of a song.

Jesus at the Center
This has become my song and prayer for this next, uncertain season. Jesus, be the center of my life.

On The Importance of Things....

I've been thinking a lot about the emphasis we place on different things vs. their actual importance. It's actually a really depressing train of thought. It doesn't take one long to encounter things in society, the church, and more alarmingly, in one's self that are really poorly prioritized. Not all of these apply to every person, and each of us have blind spots, but I just have some questions.

When did modesty become more important than poverty?

It seems every week I see some new blog post from a guy, pleading with his Christian sisters to dress modestly. I see pricy swim wear, which could double as a snowmobile suit, and another link to another sermon about the importance of modesty. I think I've been to more camps and conferences that touch on modesty than ones that touch on poverty too. To go to such and such a camp, you must wear clothes within certain guidelines, but they never talk about how much of your income you should give to the poor. Modesty is important, but scripture has two verses about it, yet the gospel was DESIGNED for the poor. How does this work?

How does 'raising a good family' take precedence over evangelism?

'Right now we're just focused on raising our family.' 'My ministry right now is my children.' May I make an observation? Is it possible that it is IMPOSSIBLE to raise a godly family without an emphasis on evangelism? Maybe sheltering our children is doing more harm than good. If our youth see sin as sin, in the context of reaching sinners, maybe it will look less attractive to them. If they are constantly renewed in the joy of their salvation by sharing that joy and truth with others, maybe it will sink in and stick around. Perhaps it is the wisdom of God that He commands us to make disciples. Nothing beats discipling for keeping one on one's toes spiritually.

A baby from last March

Why do we think it is more important to get to church on time, than to live the gospel?

How is it that we'd rather create family discord, ignore the stranded commuter on the side of the road, and skip sharing with the gas station attendant in order to get to church on time? It might be more holy to live the gospel, than to go to church. And maybe we'll be radical and strange, but possibly that will make Christianity attractive and authentic. Maybe if we give up 'saving face' at church and focus on saving souls, the Christ will be more accurately represented. He often stopped to talk with a blind man, or paused his 'schedule' to make time for the children.

When did our needs become more important than the church?

Why is it now legitimate to stay home from church because you 'didn't have the energy'? And at what point does the excuse, 'I'm just not being fed' need to be turned into the question 'Who are you feeding?" Yeah, church requires energy, and many times, may I say MOST OF THE TIME we will feel like we are doing more giving than receiving. But when did this become all about us? Can the hand say to the mouth,"I feel like I'm doing more giving than receiving?" Where is the concept of laying down our lives for our brethren?

Why is it ok to debate theology at the risk of unity?

When did Christians get this concept of needing to be right, and to make sure everyone else is too? Maybe its time we realize that we've all got a few things right, and a lot of things wrong, and are probably completely ignorant as to which things fall into each category. Possibly it would behoove us to see that music styles, preference on alcohol intake, and handshake vs. holy kiss are not salvation issues, and don't need to be matters of division. Even 'more major' issues SHOULD NOT come between two people who believe the basics of the gospel. Maybe the diversity in beliefs and traditions is actually a beautiful statement about how big God is, and how He loves variety. Maybe different denominations each represent a different aspect of a massive God as each has understanding to do. And since people are to know us by our love one toward another, lets allow that to cross denominational boundaries.

Why is it ok to buy a $5 coffee, but financially irresponsible to give generously and live by faith?

Why can people 'go out' after church events, but missionaries are ill-funded? When some people drive an old car, rent a small apartment, and spend a lot on missions work, I have heard them described as 'unstable' or 'financially irresponsible'. Yet when the next person over has a $5 per day coffee habit, is making car payments, and does not involve themselves in missions, I hear them described as 'trying to get ahead' and 'settling down'. We have this backwards. Investing in eternity is wise, no matter the cost. Investing in this life is dangerous. Where our treasure is will dictate where our heart puts down roots.

Please, dear reader, do not take all of these thoughts in a wrong way. I'm asking questions. I'm processing. I'm preparing to come back to a life I once knew, but with a completely different perspective and as a result, I'm questioning values I once held and actions I once justified. Yes, there are two sides to all of these issues. And yes, I'm offering one perspective. But these are my raw thoughts based on life as I see it right now. Will they change over time? I hope so. I welcome your thoughts as part of this process. Peace out.