Me too.

"Me too."

And suddenly, there is a flicker at the end of what you thought was an endless tunnel. If she made it, so can I. A light is ignited.

How can two tiny words be so powerful? Why does that phrase say more than any motivational speech or sermon?

Empathy. It is one thing to hear someone's troubles, and something inexplicably different to have experienced them. While a listening ear is a powerful support, a knowing heart is a lifeline from God. On one end, we share our story, and on the other we receive a gift of hope, because knowing you are not alone lets you fight the present battle with that much more resiliency.

As part of an anti-bullying campaign, our school had us fill out surveys that informed us whether or not we needed to work on our empathizing skills. Really? Empathy is not something to be built, it draws from your past. It comes to us without our consent - a bitter, revolting, painful thorn when we receive it, but a sweet, saving, beautiful gift when we can finally share it with someone else in those two breathtaking words: Me too. 

I was there too. I have borne that cross. I have climbed that staggering mountain. I have faced those jeering demons. I have waited those unending hours. I have screamed in that pain. Me too. And I made it beyond that.

You will too.


*inspiration credit - another awesome pastor and another great sermon.

Belonging

Family. Team. Club. Society. Groupies. Posse. Gang. Wolf pack.

The place where you belong.

Everyone has one in mind, whether it is something you are a part of now, or something you hope to find. If you are really lucky, several groups come to mind. You may have seen this post, where I talked about my years playing field hockey. That team has become a second family to me, and I love those girls - I belong there.

But I can't talk about belonging without bringing up one of the most eclectic, energetic, accepting, downright fun bunches of people I know: CHAOS. As a youth group, we go by that title as an acronym of how we hope to demonstrate our faith in this world, Christ Honored and Others Served, but we also tend to embody the word itself. The first time I came to this group was the day before my 14th birthday. I don't remember much from that Wednesday evening, except being sung to in the most amazing fashion ever and suddenly finding that my favorite day was smack in the middle of the week.

We have some wonderful youth leaders who challenge and nurture us. We are a mishmash of backgrounds, opinions and personalities that come together to make complacency impossible and force us to truly think through our beliefs. This is where I have grown most as a person and as a Christian.

Mennonite Youth Convention, CHAOS Theater, service projects, Deerpark - all mountaintop experiences that I will remember for a lifetime. The best part? I get a mountaintop experience every single week, because it's not about what we are doing, it's about the people and the conversations and the love that make up this crazy gang.

Each Wednesday, I breath a sigh of relief as I open the back door, and regardless of how I feel at the moment my heart lifts when I enter that hallway. This is a place where I am comfortable being exactly who I am. This is a place where I can be honest. This is a place where I am loved.

This is a place where I belong.

Smiles

smile, noun - a pleased, kind, or amused facial expression, typically with the corners of the mouth turned up and the front teeth exposed.

Oh, but it is so much more. How can you encapsulate a smile in lips and teeth?

Sometimes, even when all the right muscles move, it is not a smile. The rest of the face never gets the memo, and you're left with an empty shell of a mouth to try and fool others with - to fool yourself with. Its just a mask covering the true feelings.

Or sometimes, instead of being the mask, the smile itself is masked - or at least the attempt is made. If it really is a true smile, though, no amount of lip pursing, eyebrow scrunching, or teeth clenching can hold it in. Real smiles cannot be contained.

The most often preserved smile is one plastered on right before the camera clicks. Willingly or otherwise, a happy face is coaxed out by overly enthusiastic photographers or shouts of "CHEEEESE!!!"

Some smiles are accidentally leaked, seeping out the corners of your mouth. A silent taddle-tale, it gives a window into your mind, where a happy thought has just fluttered past. These smiles make one wonder what is behind them. A fond memory? A familiar taste? A name whispered in your heart?

Sometimes the smile is not big enough to hold all the happiness. Salty drops join it, forming a teary waterfall of joy. No, it's not sadness, it's just overflow from your heart.

Then there are the smiles that come paired with a nod and an "uh-huh", while your mind tries frantically yet fails to understand what was said. The crankshaft pushes the, the piston? and then the distributor accelerates the carburetor to...huh? Just pretend you know what he is talking about! Don't look stupid! Such tiny white liars come to our rescue, or become our slow demise.

There also smiles that cause one to worry. Fingertips pressed together, eyebrow raised, a impish grin curls your lips, and a spark of mischief begins to flicker in your eyes. This smile is a warning, and may be followed by a small cackle, or a water balloon.

A smile is something that begins within and envelopes a person's entire face and makes their eyes dance. It skips across their cheeks and beckons you to join in, for joy grows twofold when it is shared. 

So, go ahead, share the joy! Turn up the corners of your mouth and show those teeth! You have a beautiful smile :) 

La Mentira

Fear is a liar.

It gets up in your face,
makes it so hard to see
the beauty of this place.
It tells you you're too small,
that you're not good enough, 
that the order is too tall,
the road too rough.

No. Fear is a liar.

It will keep you from throwing
your heart all in.
Cuz if you give yourself up,
you’re just dust in the wind,
at the mercy of others,
and there’s no guarantee 
that they’ll come through
in your time of need. 

No. Fear is a liar. 

It says the earth is too big,
the problem too vast.
So much hurt in these hearts,
too much pain in the past.
So why even try,
if you'll only touch a few?
What’s one tiny, single person
able to do?

No. Fear is a liar.

You were made in perfection
for the challenges you face
You are exquisite
None could ever take your place.
And love is plenty big enough
to wrap its arms around you.
I’m right by your side,
I promise I’ll come through.

Fear is a liar.

So don’t listen to its taunts, child,
don’t bow to its demands,
cuz if you don’t let it take the reigns,
then the world is in your hands.
It’s not worth your time,
so let your light shine bright
and leave fear behind,

because Fear is a liar.


* Inspiration credit: a rocking pastor and an awesome sermon

That's Gonna Be Such a Great Story!

This time of year, everyone stresses over making everything just right: the right present, for the right person, and the right food at the right time and the right colors on the right sized tree so things will turn out right and everyone will be happy. 

Well, folks, I'm here to tell ya that it is not going to all be perfect. They may have already gotten that present. You might burn the pie. The cat may pull the tree over. And you know what? That's the beauty of it. We don't tell stories about the perfect Christmas, we tell stories about the time the lights went out in the middle of slicing the turkey, the time so-and-so got stuck in a blizzard and didn't get here til midnight, the time the baby slung mashed potatoes at grandpa's face. 

It's the little imperfections that make the memories, the mangled mash-up of so many people together that somehow weaves itself into a beautiful tapestry that we look back on with joy. It's the hiccups and the "whoopsies" that make it beautiful. 

Or, in this case, the wrong verse, the wrong song, or a random solo that really make the performance:

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Mornings in Maternity

Being a senior in high school, the question of my future plans is one I am very used to answering. However, to many of those asking, my answer is not one they're used to hearing. I am going to be a midwife. Yes, deliver babies. No, I don't think it's gross. It's amazing.

This semester, as part of the Health Career Institute, I spend my mornings at a local hospital shadowing on the maternity floor. Many well-meaning people have gotten in over their heads by asking me "What happened at the hospital today?". While I go off excitedly about watching a c-section, they slowly turn a pale green and avoid eye contact, trying desperately to change the subject before puking. Okay, maybe it's not that bad, but I have chosen a career path that involves things many people would rather not think about. This is understandable, but I'd like you see the joy I find in this work.

First of all, I get to wear scrubs! Quite possibly the comfiest uniform out there - no lie. Second, I get to hold babies. This is the best de-stressing therapy out there. I see the fast days and the slow ones, the happy new families and the difficult situations, the smiles and the tears.

Some days are sad. I sit under the dimmed lights, listening to the muffled radio that streams from the overhead speakers as it is punctuated by the beeps and boops of monitors - the sound of a tiny spirit fighting for a chance at life. I will never understand why some have such a rough start.

There are also days when I see a new life come into the world. As tiny pink hands flail and the first scream shakes the air, I simultaneously want to jump for joy and burst into tears. I have now seen three Cesarian sections and three vaginal deliveries, and there is no doubt that the wonder will never fade.

These are the days when I get to watch miracles happen before my eyes. This is why I want to be a midwife.

Taste This World

Taste this world, rub it on your face.
Bite into it like a slice of watermelon,
as juice dribbles down your chin.

Touch this world, put your fingerprints on it.
Stroke it softly like it’s a tiny kitten,
then roll in it like a loft full of hay.

Listen to this world, press your ear against its door.
Hear its tiny pitter-patters, its rambunctious roars,
heed its call, like the sea speaking through a shell.

Smell this world, bury your nose in its petals
Breathe in deep like you’re at a picnic
and there is bar-b-que on the grill.

Look at this world, peer into its depths.
Stare, mesmerized, as though you are a child
who is seeing his first firework show.

Don’t be afraid to dive in real deep,
Absorb all you can, myriad adventures await
if you’re brave enough to taste this world.