Life.
It seems like it is full of seasons. When you're little, life is like a dream. You eat, play, exist comfortably, go to school, come home and no one really bursts your little fairy-tale-world-bubble.
Then you become a teenager, and a struggle begins that can never end. Its all about independence and trust. You are fighting for both at every turn, but little do you realize...
...adulthood.
It means independence to the fullest. No one is ever going to buy your new pair of jeans again. No one is going to pay your bills. No one is going to fight your battles and no one is going to dream your dreams either.
Then there's trust.
Its something that I am personally rediscovering at many different moments over and over and over again. I lay it down, I let it go. I forget to trust, just for a moment. Then I realize, I need to trust. Trust that God will show me how to make ends meet. Trust that my friends will keep the secret I shared with them. Trust people not to break my heart.
Trust.
Seasons and trust seem so intertwined. To step into anything new in life, there has to be an element of trust. Starting a new job requires that we trust ourselves to do what is required of us. Getting involved in a new relationship requires us to trust someone else with our heart that we have guarded ever so carefully. Moving to a new place requires trust in God, that He will lead and direct us.
I have to say that on this road I have traveled, I have learned a lot about trust. To trust is to relax and let be. To trust, in a lot of ways, is to let go. Let go of old ideas. Let go of insecurities in abundance. Let go of thoughts that ask "what if?".
To some extent, I believe that trust and maturity go hand in hand. Seasons are starting to change for me. I am 2 days away from leaving America after an extended stay, and flying back to my home in Albania. So I am leaving home to go... home. Its weird. It requires trust and maturity.
Another season change I find myself facing is one that I never thought I could embrace. Within the next four months I will be celebrating the end of my twenty-something years. In April I will be ringing in my 30th birthday, and I have to say, I couldn't be happier about it.
When I was a teenager, I used to dread ever being this old. However, with each day that closes and each new one that begins, I find myself utterly excited about the future. About being 30. That takes trust. I could be asking God a lot of questions. I could be questioning career choices, asking why He hasn't given me a husband yet and I could be spending my savings on a BMW to make myself feel better.
Its just that I don't need to do that.
You see, the benefit of maturing... of learning to trust... REALLY trust... is peace. Contentment. Not the kind that stagnates, but the kind that makes life wonderful. I'm not sure if it takes everyone as long as it has taken me to find happiness and contentment in life, but I have to say, find it as soon as you can. Through trust.
My seasons are changing, and there are more possible changes in the next 6 months or so. Big changes. But thats ok. I've learned to roll with it, because God has got this. He holds my life right in His hand, and as I fail and fumble and fall along the way (sometimes every single step), He teaches me. He shows me. And I trust.
Just remember, in your search for contentment, search for trust. Search for the only source of real trust. There is only One Who can model this perfectly for us. He sent us to earth and gives us free will. He also trusts that we will do what He says. He guides us faultlessly. He does not trust that we will be perfect. He just doesn't lose His trust in us when we fail.
What a perfect model of unconditional love.
With all your heart...
...trust.
Thanks for reading,
Julie
Friday, December 26, 2014
Saturday, November 1, 2014
I Chose To Live On Mars
This morning I woke up, slowly, and crawled out from under the covers of a wonderfully warm bed in a beautiful and temperature controlled house. I made my way down the hall and into the kitchen to make some coffee (and lets face it to eat some Halloween candy). As I stood in front of the sink cleaning the coffee filter for the single brew coffee machine (oh how I covet my neighbor when it comes to this machine) I felt a, not cold, but icy breeze blowing in through the window in front of me. It stunned me. Stopped me in my tracks.
I realized, had I been in my own home in Albania, and the temperature was near freezing as it was here, that I would have had to sleep with two pairs of socks on. I would have a hot water bottle in my bed to try to warm up the sheets before and during sleep. I would not even want to get out of bed to use the restroom, because in the time it takes to do that, your bed gets cold again. I might have even slept in my hoodie, had the house been cold enough. Oh, and don't even mention showers, in a cold house, in a room made of concrete and tile. Sure, I turn on the electric heater for this task, but it does very little to actually cut through the cold.
While thinking on these things, I remembered something that happened last night as well. As I came home from Trick or Treating in the neighborhood and at church with my ADORABLE nephews and niece, I was told that there were hamburgers in the kitchen. Having not eaten dinner, I quickly went to task building myself a burger. The first thing I went for was, of course, the hamburger buns. Upon touching them I was SHOCKED at how soft they were. You see, Europeans for the most part make GREAT bread, but soft is never really a word you would use to describe it. I enjoyed every bite of that burger, soft bun, cheddar cheese, real ketchup and all.
As I pondered on these things this morning, the thought dawned on me that most people might think I am off my rocker. I mean, why live in a place that is so hard to live in? Truth be told, I wouldn't have it any other way. It IS hard to live in Albania, not just for these reasons, but for a multitude of others. Being a female in a male dominated society, for example. This is changing, but it takes time to turn the Titanic. Also, just simple tasks like paying the bills can be very stressful due to crowds with no real lines. Still, Albania is my home, and I miss it now more than ever before. I've been told that is a good sign. For me, its just who I am. It never ceases to amaze me how God will create a person to do a specific task on the Earth and as they do that task, it fulfills the very person He created them to be. Its an intricate pattern our Creator weaves.
So, what IS my point in all this? As I stared out that window feeling the icy breeze this morning, I realized, again, how thankful I am for each and every person who makes it possible for me to do what I do. From the bottom of my heart I could not be more grateful for you, and the faith you put in God, and the faith you put in me to be enablers (a positive term in this sense) who trust me to do what God is asking ALL of us to do in the earth today, just in a totally different place. I wasn't called to be a lawyer who reached the supreme court justices with my version of the Gospel. I was not asked by God, yet, to be a politician who changed a community for Him. I was called to live in a tiny nation, across the ocean, that may seem insignificant, but is not insignificant to me or, more importantly, to God.
Thank you for enabling me to do what I do every day. I promise you, the best is yet to come and I am very excited about the plans God and I have for Albania in 2015.
Thank you, partners. Thank you.
I realized, had I been in my own home in Albania, and the temperature was near freezing as it was here, that I would have had to sleep with two pairs of socks on. I would have a hot water bottle in my bed to try to warm up the sheets before and during sleep. I would not even want to get out of bed to use the restroom, because in the time it takes to do that, your bed gets cold again. I might have even slept in my hoodie, had the house been cold enough. Oh, and don't even mention showers, in a cold house, in a room made of concrete and tile. Sure, I turn on the electric heater for this task, but it does very little to actually cut through the cold.
While thinking on these things, I remembered something that happened last night as well. As I came home from Trick or Treating in the neighborhood and at church with my ADORABLE nephews and niece, I was told that there were hamburgers in the kitchen. Having not eaten dinner, I quickly went to task building myself a burger. The first thing I went for was, of course, the hamburger buns. Upon touching them I was SHOCKED at how soft they were. You see, Europeans for the most part make GREAT bread, but soft is never really a word you would use to describe it. I enjoyed every bite of that burger, soft bun, cheddar cheese, real ketchup and all.
As I pondered on these things this morning, the thought dawned on me that most people might think I am off my rocker. I mean, why live in a place that is so hard to live in? Truth be told, I wouldn't have it any other way. It IS hard to live in Albania, not just for these reasons, but for a multitude of others. Being a female in a male dominated society, for example. This is changing, but it takes time to turn the Titanic. Also, just simple tasks like paying the bills can be very stressful due to crowds with no real lines. Still, Albania is my home, and I miss it now more than ever before. I've been told that is a good sign. For me, its just who I am. It never ceases to amaze me how God will create a person to do a specific task on the Earth and as they do that task, it fulfills the very person He created them to be. Its an intricate pattern our Creator weaves.
So, what IS my point in all this? As I stared out that window feeling the icy breeze this morning, I realized, again, how thankful I am for each and every person who makes it possible for me to do what I do. From the bottom of my heart I could not be more grateful for you, and the faith you put in God, and the faith you put in me to be enablers (a positive term in this sense) who trust me to do what God is asking ALL of us to do in the earth today, just in a totally different place. I wasn't called to be a lawyer who reached the supreme court justices with my version of the Gospel. I was not asked by God, yet, to be a politician who changed a community for Him. I was called to live in a tiny nation, across the ocean, that may seem insignificant, but is not insignificant to me or, more importantly, to God.
Thank you for enabling me to do what I do every day. I promise you, the best is yet to come and I am very excited about the plans God and I have for Albania in 2015.
Thank you, partners. Thank you.
Monday, September 15, 2014
15 Years Later
It is with a heavy heart that I once again write about this topic. I wrote earlier this year that my goal would be to change the way I view this day and what it represents in my life by doing a fund-raising walk between two major cities in Albania.
Unfortunately, due to a stress fracture in my left foot, I was not able to complete this task, but I am not gonna let that get me down.
I write this with a heavy heart, yes. Why? Well, it is a heavy subject to talk about isn't it? However, as I sit back and look at life today as compared to even one week ago, I am in absolute awe of what God is doing today.
Thank you to all of those who support me, prayerfully, emotionally and financially. You all have been amazing. I cannot wait to share with you all some of the awesomeness that has gone on, and why I am so excited about what God is up to in Elbasan these days.
However, for now, I want to thank you all for supporting me, even in my seeming failures, like not being able to do this walk. For me, deciding not to walk was gut-wrenching in the beginning, but I can now see how God has used it for good anyway.
For all those who were affected by what happened today, 15 years ago, shattering a community and making faith feel slightly less safe, my prayers continually go out to you.
I can't believe its been 15 years. For those of us who it touched directly, whether present that night or not, it still feels like yesterday, because it is a part of who we are.
We will never forget.
We will, however, continue to live our lives. God still has a plan for each and every one of us. As we all take today to remember and reflect, lets also take tomorrow to move on in honor of the ones who can no longer can. Lets move on in honor of the God they were worshiping that night. OUR God.
Unfortunately, due to a stress fracture in my left foot, I was not able to complete this task, but I am not gonna let that get me down.
I write this with a heavy heart, yes. Why? Well, it is a heavy subject to talk about isn't it? However, as I sit back and look at life today as compared to even one week ago, I am in absolute awe of what God is doing today.
Thank you to all of those who support me, prayerfully, emotionally and financially. You all have been amazing. I cannot wait to share with you all some of the awesomeness that has gone on, and why I am so excited about what God is up to in Elbasan these days.
However, for now, I want to thank you all for supporting me, even in my seeming failures, like not being able to do this walk. For me, deciding not to walk was gut-wrenching in the beginning, but I can now see how God has used it for good anyway.
For all those who were affected by what happened today, 15 years ago, shattering a community and making faith feel slightly less safe, my prayers continually go out to you.
I can't believe its been 15 years. For those of us who it touched directly, whether present that night or not, it still feels like yesterday, because it is a part of who we are.
We will never forget.
We will, however, continue to live our lives. God still has a plan for each and every one of us. As we all take today to remember and reflect, lets also take tomorrow to move on in honor of the ones who can no longer can. Lets move on in honor of the God they were worshiping that night. OUR God.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
The Most Important Blog I Will Ever Write
September 15, 1999.
14 years 10 months and 12 days ago.
One moment.
One action.
A generation of student's lives would never be the same.
I was supposed to be there that night. I later dealt with that fact in both guilt and humility.
It was supposed to be a Wednesday night for the record books. It was "See You At The Pole" day (a day each year in the US and across the world on which students gather around the flag pole at their schools to pray). We had all prayed at our schools that morning, and we were REALLY looking forward to the gathering of Christian students that was to happen that night. I was one of the people who helped organize that our youth group would go to this event, being that I was the one who brought the idea to our youth pastor and convinced him to take us there, rather than to do our regular Wednesday night youth group meeting.
That evening, when my friends and I and all our extra friends (who wanted to get in on going to a big event) got to the church, we were met by some surprising news. Our youth pastor informed us that we would, in fact, not be attending this big youth conference, but instead would be doing service as usually on the church grounds. The reason we were given for this was that the Pastor of the church was overseas on a missions trip at the time and the youth pastor had not been able to get a hold of him all week to get permission for the excursion. So, the answer was simple, we could not go.
My friends and I were SO bummed out. In fact, we were quite horrible to our youth pastor that whole evening, giving him dirty looks and the silent treatment. However, all that quickly changed as we got word that something had happened. Something unthinkable. Our pastor's wife burst through the door and into the room where we were having our youth meeting, and quickly announced to us that we were to stop the meeting and begin to pray. There was a person inside a church in Fort Worth shooting the members of a service going on there. That's all we knew at that moment, and the only reason we knew at all was because one of our own church members just so happened to live across the street from the church where the shooting was happening. He was an off duty police officer, and before heading into the church to see what was going on (being the very first responder), he called our church to ask us to pray.
So we prayed. I didn't realize in those moments in which we were praying that evening exactly where this shooting was happening. When I got home that night, as I walked through the door, I knew something was not at all right. Gazing towards the TV, my whole family was silent. Entering the house, I dropped my stuff, didn't even shut the door and began to get a true revelation of what had actually happened. The headlines read "Youth Group Tragedy" and "Shooting At Youth Rally" and "Wedgwood Baptist Church Shooting". Only in that very moment did I realize, the shooting was not at some random church with some random Wednesday night faithful members. The shooting was at that rally. That "See You At The Pole" meeting that I was supposed to be at, and the same one I had begged my youth pastor to take us to. The same one we treated him so badly for NOT letting us go to.
I have to say, if any moment has ever changed my life forever...
If anything has ever left a lasting mark...
If anything sticks with me every waking breath, even unto this very day...
...it is this.
To make a very long and complicated story a little shorter and readable, I will skip to the point. There were 7 people killed and 7 injured that night by a mad man who, police say, had no motive at all for doing what he did. Two of the young people who caught his bullets that night were from my high school. Joey Ennis, a freshman just like me, was killed by a bullet to the back of his head. He would have been one of the school's shortest ever basketball stars if he had been left to live out his life.
Justin Laird had driven himself to the meeting that night. It was the first time he had ever driven alone, as it was his 16th birthday and he had only, that morning, gotten his license to drive. He was our star football player, and he never walked again after that night. A bullet to his spinal cord has left him paralyzed.
I am quite sure by now that you are touched by my story, and I am certain that you are asking yourself what the point of it is. Well, there is a big point.
For years (15 this September), this tragedy has left a stain on my soul. A depression, a pain, and an empty gaping hole. As the years passed by, I have found it easier to move on, most of the time. However, every year as September rolls around, I find myself hating that month more and more because I know it holds the anniversary of this tragedy and I will be reminded by well meaning friends, family and news outlets of the horrors that my 14 year old and completely not ready self had to face that day and in the days thereafter. I will be reminded of the friends running to my front door with the news of who we knew that had been shot and who was dead and who was in the hospital. I will remember the moment my friend collapsed in my arms in a fit of tears and I had no idea how to help. I was proud and I didn't want my family to know how badly this affected me. I think that might have been my biggest mistake. I will be reminded of the quotes I gave the newspapers, of the strength of Pastor Al Meredith in a time where he had to stand up and lead his congregation. I will be reminded of the comfort given by President (then Governor) George W Bush. I remember that the way he stood beside us during our tragedy was the very reason I voted for him for president and it is the reason I will give even today for saying I would vote that way again, if given the chance. I will be reminded of the bells rung on the Texas Christian University campus for our victims. I will be reminded...
...and I will continue to hate September.
From the very moment this tragedy happened, I have warned the devil and the powers of darkness that be, that I would, one day, stand up strong and turn the evil committed that day into something good. I promised I would use it to glorify God and I promised the devil that he would NOT have the last say in this matter.
So, after a long story bringing you up to date on why I am doing this, I would like to announce to you that on September 15, 2014 (the 15 yr anniversary of the shooting) I will be doing a fundraising walk from Elbasan, Albania (the city I currently live in) to Tirana (the capitol city of Albania).
This walk is intended to be a fundraising walk to benefit the work I do with the Roma gypsy girls here in Albania, and 50% of the proceeds I will personally donate to Wedgwood Baptist Church.
It is not a long walk, 26 miles in all. It will take me about 8 hours to complete. I am not in shape and I have been training throughout the summer to make sure I will be in the best shape possible to make the walk. I am very exciting about dancing on the devil's head the whole 26 miles and it brings me nearly to tears to imagine being able to, personally, give the 50% to Wedgwood Baptist Church after the walk.
I want to challenge YOU, my old classmates (whom I know this will affect), my family, my friends and even my simple acquaintances to GIVE towards this cause. Help me be a part of turning something terrible into something good. After all... oh wait... I haven't told you that part yet =)
The missions trip abroad my pastor was on (when the youth pastor couldn't get a hold of him to get permission).
Ya, he was in Albania, building the ministry in a nation that I am now a part of. Paving the way for me to come one day and continue the work here. You see, so after all...
Albania saved my life.
So now lets give to the work in Albania and to the wonderful works in abundance that go on day in and day out at Wedgwood Baptist in Fort Worth, TX.
Donations can be made through my organization by clicking HERE and by selecting 'Julie Shelley' from the campaigns menu. Please denote (in the comments section) that the donation is for the fundraising walk.
If you would like to read more about what happened on that dark day in 1999 plese click on of the following links:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Larry_Gene_Ashbrook
http://content.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,31191,00.html
http://www.wedgwoodbc.org/joyful-relationships/church-information/wedgwood-shooting/
Thank you for reading.
Julie
14 years 10 months and 12 days ago.
One moment.
One action.
A generation of student's lives would never be the same.
I was supposed to be there that night. I later dealt with that fact in both guilt and humility.
It was supposed to be a Wednesday night for the record books. It was "See You At The Pole" day (a day each year in the US and across the world on which students gather around the flag pole at their schools to pray). We had all prayed at our schools that morning, and we were REALLY looking forward to the gathering of Christian students that was to happen that night. I was one of the people who helped organize that our youth group would go to this event, being that I was the one who brought the idea to our youth pastor and convinced him to take us there, rather than to do our regular Wednesday night youth group meeting.
That evening, when my friends and I and all our extra friends (who wanted to get in on going to a big event) got to the church, we were met by some surprising news. Our youth pastor informed us that we would, in fact, not be attending this big youth conference, but instead would be doing service as usually on the church grounds. The reason we were given for this was that the Pastor of the church was overseas on a missions trip at the time and the youth pastor had not been able to get a hold of him all week to get permission for the excursion. So, the answer was simple, we could not go.
My friends and I were SO bummed out. In fact, we were quite horrible to our youth pastor that whole evening, giving him dirty looks and the silent treatment. However, all that quickly changed as we got word that something had happened. Something unthinkable. Our pastor's wife burst through the door and into the room where we were having our youth meeting, and quickly announced to us that we were to stop the meeting and begin to pray. There was a person inside a church in Fort Worth shooting the members of a service going on there. That's all we knew at that moment, and the only reason we knew at all was because one of our own church members just so happened to live across the street from the church where the shooting was happening. He was an off duty police officer, and before heading into the church to see what was going on (being the very first responder), he called our church to ask us to pray.
So we prayed. I didn't realize in those moments in which we were praying that evening exactly where this shooting was happening. When I got home that night, as I walked through the door, I knew something was not at all right. Gazing towards the TV, my whole family was silent. Entering the house, I dropped my stuff, didn't even shut the door and began to get a true revelation of what had actually happened. The headlines read "Youth Group Tragedy" and "Shooting At Youth Rally" and "Wedgwood Baptist Church Shooting". Only in that very moment did I realize, the shooting was not at some random church with some random Wednesday night faithful members. The shooting was at that rally. That "See You At The Pole" meeting that I was supposed to be at, and the same one I had begged my youth pastor to take us to. The same one we treated him so badly for NOT letting us go to.
I have to say, if any moment has ever changed my life forever...
If anything has ever left a lasting mark...
If anything sticks with me every waking breath, even unto this very day...
...it is this.
To make a very long and complicated story a little shorter and readable, I will skip to the point. There were 7 people killed and 7 injured that night by a mad man who, police say, had no motive at all for doing what he did. Two of the young people who caught his bullets that night were from my high school. Joey Ennis, a freshman just like me, was killed by a bullet to the back of his head. He would have been one of the school's shortest ever basketball stars if he had been left to live out his life.
Justin Laird had driven himself to the meeting that night. It was the first time he had ever driven alone, as it was his 16th birthday and he had only, that morning, gotten his license to drive. He was our star football player, and he never walked again after that night. A bullet to his spinal cord has left him paralyzed.
I am quite sure by now that you are touched by my story, and I am certain that you are asking yourself what the point of it is. Well, there is a big point.
For years (15 this September), this tragedy has left a stain on my soul. A depression, a pain, and an empty gaping hole. As the years passed by, I have found it easier to move on, most of the time. However, every year as September rolls around, I find myself hating that month more and more because I know it holds the anniversary of this tragedy and I will be reminded by well meaning friends, family and news outlets of the horrors that my 14 year old and completely not ready self had to face that day and in the days thereafter. I will be reminded of the friends running to my front door with the news of who we knew that had been shot and who was dead and who was in the hospital. I will remember the moment my friend collapsed in my arms in a fit of tears and I had no idea how to help. I was proud and I didn't want my family to know how badly this affected me. I think that might have been my biggest mistake. I will be reminded of the quotes I gave the newspapers, of the strength of Pastor Al Meredith in a time where he had to stand up and lead his congregation. I will be reminded of the comfort given by President (then Governor) George W Bush. I remember that the way he stood beside us during our tragedy was the very reason I voted for him for president and it is the reason I will give even today for saying I would vote that way again, if given the chance. I will be reminded of the bells rung on the Texas Christian University campus for our victims. I will be reminded...
...and I will continue to hate September.
From the very moment this tragedy happened, I have warned the devil and the powers of darkness that be, that I would, one day, stand up strong and turn the evil committed that day into something good. I promised I would use it to glorify God and I promised the devil that he would NOT have the last say in this matter.
So, after a long story bringing you up to date on why I am doing this, I would like to announce to you that on September 15, 2014 (the 15 yr anniversary of the shooting) I will be doing a fundraising walk from Elbasan, Albania (the city I currently live in) to Tirana (the capitol city of Albania).
This walk is intended to be a fundraising walk to benefit the work I do with the Roma gypsy girls here in Albania, and 50% of the proceeds I will personally donate to Wedgwood Baptist Church.
It is not a long walk, 26 miles in all. It will take me about 8 hours to complete. I am not in shape and I have been training throughout the summer to make sure I will be in the best shape possible to make the walk. I am very exciting about dancing on the devil's head the whole 26 miles and it brings me nearly to tears to imagine being able to, personally, give the 50% to Wedgwood Baptist Church after the walk.
I want to challenge YOU, my old classmates (whom I know this will affect), my family, my friends and even my simple acquaintances to GIVE towards this cause. Help me be a part of turning something terrible into something good. After all... oh wait... I haven't told you that part yet =)
The missions trip abroad my pastor was on (when the youth pastor couldn't get a hold of him to get permission).
Ya, he was in Albania, building the ministry in a nation that I am now a part of. Paving the way for me to come one day and continue the work here. You see, so after all...
Albania saved my life.
So now lets give to the work in Albania and to the wonderful works in abundance that go on day in and day out at Wedgwood Baptist in Fort Worth, TX.
Donations can be made through my organization by clicking HERE and by selecting 'Julie Shelley' from the campaigns menu. Please denote (in the comments section) that the donation is for the fundraising walk.
If you would like to read more about what happened on that dark day in 1999 plese click on of the following links:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Larry_Gene_Ashbrook
http://content.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,31191,00.html
http://www.wedgwoodbc.org/joyful-relationships/church-information/wedgwood-shooting/
Thank you for reading.
Julie
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Life On The Farm
So far my day has gone something like this:
630a: Alarm goes off. I snooze
7a: Alarm goes off. I really have to get up this time. Bummer.
Wonder into the bathroom, pet the cat on the way in cause she sleeps on top of the washing machine these days for some unknown reason.
Get slightly uncomfortable kitty snuggles while I am trying to pee.
Carry laptop to the kitchen table. Sit down check emails, bank accounts, news etc.
Begin to prepare breakfast for me and Jack (the Doberman). We are both having eggs. Only thing is his are supplemented with a cup of dog food, mine are supplemented with a cup of coffee, milk, no sugar.
Mix Jacks eggs, get them cooking. Start mixing my own eggs. Once mixed, put electric kettle on to boil water for instant coffee. My filtered coffee machine is currently in need of repair and I can't justify making 3-4 cups minimum when I know I will only drink 1.
All that done, still waiting on Jack's eggs to finish. Walk into bathroom, poor kitty a little milk. Yes I spoil her sometimes.
Chase Dallas (small inside dog) out of bathroom cause she is terrifying kitty and trying to steal her milk.
Give Dallas some milk too.
Jack's eggs are done. Put them in his bowl to cool. Add 1 cup dog food and mix.
Put my eggs on to cook.
Pour cup of coffee with milk.
PUT MILK BACK IN FRIDGE. This is how I say this to myself because last week I forgot to do so and ruined a perfectly good bottle of milk. Sad.
Dish up my eggs.
Give Jack his meal.
Sit down to eat mine... finally.
Dallas wants out.
I can't let Dallas out until Jack is done eating because they will fight. So I play referee at the door, while Jack scarfs up food and Dallas sits there shaking and miserable looking cause she needs to go do her business. Thankfully she waits.
I take Jack's empty bowl. He is cute cause he has egg all over his nose.
Make Jack move cause Dallas gets edgy if he is in the way when she tries to go outside. If I don't make room for her she will growl and snap at him. He is big and so I try to keep her happy cause I don't know how badly he would hurt her if he responded in anger one day.
Go to get iPhone to take picture of Jack's eggy nose. Get to door, his nose is no longer eggy. Sad again.
Sit down...again... to eat my breakfast.
Dallas starts barking up a storm outside. It is still early and I do not want to disturb the neighbors. I do not need the wrath of seven old Albanian women to come down on me at any point in my life.
So I stand up and go command Dallas back inside.
She comes, thankfully. I close the door.
Again, I sit down to eat my breakfast.
Then I write this blog.
So now, I think I will go so I can finally finish this so called breakfast.
Hope you all have a great day.
I know we will on this little farm.
Thanks for reading.
Julie
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Adventure, Party of One...
Oh...
How am I?
Good.
Or, at least, that's what I would like to say. Even if its a lie. I wish I could say it without tears welling up in my eyes.
Moving across the world, forsaking your family, friends, church, work, ability to drive... everything one might hold dear... well, it breaks you in a way. However, I have been really blessed to say that I have not been alone for the past three years of this beautiful journey God has me on.
I have been spoiled, really. Not many missionaries step out into the luxury of having a great friend already waiting for you on the missions field. I met Kerri in 2007 on a short term mission trip to Albania. She was there in the same city at the same time on a short term missions trip with the Bible College she was a part of in South Africa. Through no coincidence, we happened to have mutual friends, who suggested out two short term teams have a get together one night.
If you have ever been to Elbasan, you have been to L'oasi ice cream shop. That is where our colliding of worlds first took place. My team, consisting really only of me and my pastor at the time, went out for ice cream to get to know the team from South Africa. We were only two people, but their team must have consisted of about 20 people.
It just so happened that Kerri and one of her team leaders sat at the same table as my pastor and I. Because my pastor and her team leader sparked a conversation right off the bat about mutual friends of theirs (is their coincidence in the Kingdom of God? I think not.), Kerri and I were left with the slightly awkward task of trying to spark our own conversation. It proved not to be a difficult task at all. In fact, we both had a burning passion to live in Albania long term and help its people grow to know God.
This conversation led to emailing which led to us finding each other on Skype. Life went on and Kerri eventually got to lead the dream, living full time in Elbasan. I was super jealous in some ways but also super happy for her. We kept in contact and were great encouragement to one another in life's struggles.
Then the day came when I decided I needed to take a longer term trip to Albania. My plan was to stay for 3 months, but I knew in the back of my mind that if those three months went well, that I would be staying longer than that. I think Kerri knew this too, even though I never told anyone. So when she suggested that we become roommates, I was stunned and felt like God was opening the door for me to finally get to my dreams and calling.
So we became roommates, and from that moment began a life full of great friendship, lots of struggles and a million giggles. I do not know if I would be in Albania today if it was not for this girl. Not only because she gave me the financial opportunity by sharing expenses, but for a million other reasons as well.
Yesterday, at 430am, I caught a taxi to the airport to see Kerri for one last time. For whatever reason, her time in Albania has come to an end. She left on an airplane about 24 hours ago now.
As I sit and write this, I am saddened to the depths of my heart to have to have said goodbye to someone so dear to me. I have no idea what God is going to do through all of this, but I know I will continue my work in Albania with the gypsy girls and with a new and exciting project that God is speaking to me about for this fall. More to come on that...
For now, I guess its adventure, party of one...
My God is enough. In my loneliness. In my financial hardships. He is enough.
Pray that He will bring more strong friendships along my path, but also pray that He strengthens me in the times that are not as full of people. Pray that He will open new doors of financial opportunity, but also pray that I can withstand the hardships.
Thanks for reading,
Julie
Friday, January 24, 2014
How To Care For Your Missionaries
It may be forward of me to write this blog, but who better to tell it how it is than one right in the middle of it all? So, if you find the fact that I, a missionary myself, am writing this blog then please just stop reading here. For those of you brave enough to read on:
For a few days I have been thinking about the little things in life, because it is the little things that can make or break a day. For example, if I am having a terrible day, but my friend does or says something unusually thoughtful and caring, I can be cheered up and almost immediately more capable of seeing life from a different or more positive perspective... even in my biggest problems and hurts.
In today's church there are many causes to be supported. We as modern Christians are always looking for the next way to help people and projects in the world that could not go on without our help. It is a beautiful thing to see the body of Christ in action first hand from the vantage point of the missions field. It is truly astounding (big and small) what the church can accomplish when it pulls together behind a common cause.
This blog is not to tell you where to give and focus your time, money or prayers. It is to help you once you have already made that decision. It is written to help you help those who you have chosen to get behind as a church or individual.
That being said, let us commence with the list making, shall we?
10 Ways You Can Care For Your Missionary
1. Communication
This is a major factor. So many times, with life as busy as it can be, we get caught up in the giving side of things and lose the relational side. I assure you that something as small as a FB message or a "how are you" will go a long way once in a while. Missionaries can often feel very alone. They may be linked to organizations and churches (as they should be) but they may really feel as if they have very few friends. Your small note can remind them that they do, in fact, still have friends all over the world. The ones from their home town/church/past can mean a lot when they are feeling caught up in a culture that is not naturally theirs.
2. Prayers
Often times we as the church have a huge fault in that we tend to put people on pedestals. This meaning that we assume those in any type of leadership or full time ministry are somehow spiritually better than we are. The Bible says that iron sharpens iron, so please don't forget we are all metal being purified by God's fire. This is a never ending, life-long process and from time to time even your leaders struggle. They might even struggle for weeks or months at a time. Your heartfelt and sincere prayers are felt and they do help. Your missionary is neck-deep in a pool of cultural setbacks and often times first generation Christian surroundings, meaning that they are fighting spiritual battles on the behalf of others (and nations) on a daily basis. Reinforcements are highly recommended and appreciated in this area.
3. Read Their Updates
I know. I even struggle with this one. Our emails on Monday morning are filled with things that we label and prioritize from the bottom "junk" type things to the top "priority/time sensitive" things. Somewhere in the middle things like newsletters get put aside with full intentions of reading them at a later time when life is a little less busy. We all know life doesn't get any less busy, so please take the time to read that newsletter when you get it. I am not exaggerating when I say you could miss something as serious as "life and death" situations that you may need to be aware of. It is easy... VERY easy to miss out or fall behind on what is happening with your missionaries. Read what they send you. It is important. Along with that goes fundraising, which will carry us on to number 4...
4. Support Them
About 99% of people when they read the title to #4 and possible even this blog's title rolled their eyes and thought something along the lines of "Oh, no... here we go again. The missionary is begging for money". Truth be told, the only way the missionary lives AT ALL is by begging for said money. However, you as the "supporter" also must consider the broader definitions of the word support. Your missionary completely understands that not everyone can give to every cause out there. However, they do fully intend to keep you in the loop because you are their friend. The way they keep you in the loop will often times be by sending you their mass produced updates and newsletters which, yes, will include how people can give to this particular cause. When missionaries ask for your support, please don't roll your eyes and assume you cannot do anything for them just because you can't send $5 this month. What they are asking for is any kind of support you can give. Financial, prayer and even moral support. As I said in #1, it is lonely on the missions field and a small note from home can make all the difference. That being said, one very important way you can care for your missionary is by giving, especially is you have committed to do so. Missionaries understand that life is hard and money is a big issue, but please also understand that they often plan their next month based on your commitments. If you will miss a month of giving, or need to make a change, please do the honorable things, and drop your missionary a note. They will appreciate the ability to plan ahead.
5. Send Something
Your missionary has given up their life and comforts to make Jesus known, often times in a very different part of the world. Sometimes the little things can make all the difference. For example, in Albania it is very expensive to buy peanut butter. So, when other missionaries who travel home to places like England more often than those of us who come from farther away, they will bring back a jar of peanut butter for me because they know it is something that is hard to come by (practically) in Albania. Or like the other day when the missionary family living in another Albanian city sent me a care package of "Sour Patch Kids" candy, it very nearly changed my life. Ok, I know that is dramatic, but if you know me well, you get it. So, when possible, check into the prices of "flat rate" international shipping boxes. Then drop your missionary a note and ask the what little things they miss from home. Filling said box with those items and sending it to your international missionary friend is a great great great way to show that you care. Care packages mean a lot to people the world over whether they are students studying abroad, military stationed in war zones or your missionary fighting the spiritual battles world over. If a care package isn't possible, even something as small as a handwritten note is much appreciated. Pen pals never go out of style. Also appreciated, if possible are pictures (real ones) of your missionary's family and friends.
6. Accountability
It is quite likely that your missionary needs a little accountability in their life, as does anyone else. We all have goals we wish to meet more often than we do. Who doesn't have the desire to read the Bible more often or lose that extra ten pounds or just eat healthier? Drop a note to your missionary and set up a monthly/weekly accountability email where you can encourage each other in those areas you are both struggling in. Your missionary needs someone to spill to about this sometimes.
7. Understand Your Missionary
Missionaries are a unique people. They are a people without a state. For example, I am no longer 100% American. Sure I was born in Texas and I carry the all coveted blue passport, but you will see, as you get to know me again, that there are some things that I do differently or even words that I say in a slightly British accent. I will never be the complete American with no concept of the outside world again. I will also never be 100% Albania. Actually I will probably always be a far cry from it. Your missionary needs you to accept them and love them for who they are now, not who they used to be. Things will change. They will not be the exact person you used to know. They will have matured in many ways, and they will get on your nerves in ways, because they are different than you remember. Cherish them anyway. They need a little TLC when they come home. They are pointed out for being different ALL the time in the international city they live in, when then come home, they just need you to understand.
8. Visit Them
I cannot stress this one enough. Your missionary knows that it is not possible for everyone to be jet-setting all the time, flying all over the world to every exotic location that exists. However, that being said, when a missionary goes two years without seeing anyone they know from their previous life, while others all around them have constant visitors, it is very difficult. All I am saying is if at all you can find a way, make a short visit. It will lift your missionary's spirits in a way you could never imagine.
9. Help Them Visit Home/Other Places
If money is not a problem, but time is because your job is demanding and you just can't even find time in the day to take a shower, then consider giving towards your missionary's furlough visits. I know many a missionary who have gone up to 4 years without being able to exit the country they are working in. It may not be possible to fly an American family living in Russia home, but consider asking them if there is a Christian conference in a neighboring country they would like to attend and see how you can help make that happen. As with any job, your missionary needs a break. The difference is that your missionary is LIVING at work 24/7. Keep that in mind as you think about how you can help.
As for now, that is what is on my heart. If you are a missionary reading this and have something to add to the list or would like to comment on something said here, please feel free to share. I might even extend the list.
Thanks for reading,
Julie
For a few days I have been thinking about the little things in life, because it is the little things that can make or break a day. For example, if I am having a terrible day, but my friend does or says something unusually thoughtful and caring, I can be cheered up and almost immediately more capable of seeing life from a different or more positive perspective... even in my biggest problems and hurts.
In today's church there are many causes to be supported. We as modern Christians are always looking for the next way to help people and projects in the world that could not go on without our help. It is a beautiful thing to see the body of Christ in action first hand from the vantage point of the missions field. It is truly astounding (big and small) what the church can accomplish when it pulls together behind a common cause.
This blog is not to tell you where to give and focus your time, money or prayers. It is to help you once you have already made that decision. It is written to help you help those who you have chosen to get behind as a church or individual.
That being said, let us commence with the list making, shall we?
10 Ways You Can Care For Your Missionary
1. Communication
This is a major factor. So many times, with life as busy as it can be, we get caught up in the giving side of things and lose the relational side. I assure you that something as small as a FB message or a "how are you" will go a long way once in a while. Missionaries can often feel very alone. They may be linked to organizations and churches (as they should be) but they may really feel as if they have very few friends. Your small note can remind them that they do, in fact, still have friends all over the world. The ones from their home town/church/past can mean a lot when they are feeling caught up in a culture that is not naturally theirs.
2. Prayers
Often times we as the church have a huge fault in that we tend to put people on pedestals. This meaning that we assume those in any type of leadership or full time ministry are somehow spiritually better than we are. The Bible says that iron sharpens iron, so please don't forget we are all metal being purified by God's fire. This is a never ending, life-long process and from time to time even your leaders struggle. They might even struggle for weeks or months at a time. Your heartfelt and sincere prayers are felt and they do help. Your missionary is neck-deep in a pool of cultural setbacks and often times first generation Christian surroundings, meaning that they are fighting spiritual battles on the behalf of others (and nations) on a daily basis. Reinforcements are highly recommended and appreciated in this area.
3. Read Their Updates
I know. I even struggle with this one. Our emails on Monday morning are filled with things that we label and prioritize from the bottom "junk" type things to the top "priority/time sensitive" things. Somewhere in the middle things like newsletters get put aside with full intentions of reading them at a later time when life is a little less busy. We all know life doesn't get any less busy, so please take the time to read that newsletter when you get it. I am not exaggerating when I say you could miss something as serious as "life and death" situations that you may need to be aware of. It is easy... VERY easy to miss out or fall behind on what is happening with your missionaries. Read what they send you. It is important. Along with that goes fundraising, which will carry us on to number 4...
4. Support Them
About 99% of people when they read the title to #4 and possible even this blog's title rolled their eyes and thought something along the lines of "Oh, no... here we go again. The missionary is begging for money". Truth be told, the only way the missionary lives AT ALL is by begging for said money. However, you as the "supporter" also must consider the broader definitions of the word support. Your missionary completely understands that not everyone can give to every cause out there. However, they do fully intend to keep you in the loop because you are their friend. The way they keep you in the loop will often times be by sending you their mass produced updates and newsletters which, yes, will include how people can give to this particular cause. When missionaries ask for your support, please don't roll your eyes and assume you cannot do anything for them just because you can't send $5 this month. What they are asking for is any kind of support you can give. Financial, prayer and even moral support. As I said in #1, it is lonely on the missions field and a small note from home can make all the difference. That being said, one very important way you can care for your missionary is by giving, especially is you have committed to do so. Missionaries understand that life is hard and money is a big issue, but please also understand that they often plan their next month based on your commitments. If you will miss a month of giving, or need to make a change, please do the honorable things, and drop your missionary a note. They will appreciate the ability to plan ahead.
5. Send Something
Your missionary has given up their life and comforts to make Jesus known, often times in a very different part of the world. Sometimes the little things can make all the difference. For example, in Albania it is very expensive to buy peanut butter. So, when other missionaries who travel home to places like England more often than those of us who come from farther away, they will bring back a jar of peanut butter for me because they know it is something that is hard to come by (practically) in Albania. Or like the other day when the missionary family living in another Albanian city sent me a care package of "Sour Patch Kids" candy, it very nearly changed my life. Ok, I know that is dramatic, but if you know me well, you get it. So, when possible, check into the prices of "flat rate" international shipping boxes. Then drop your missionary a note and ask the what little things they miss from home. Filling said box with those items and sending it to your international missionary friend is a great great great way to show that you care. Care packages mean a lot to people the world over whether they are students studying abroad, military stationed in war zones or your missionary fighting the spiritual battles world over. If a care package isn't possible, even something as small as a handwritten note is much appreciated. Pen pals never go out of style. Also appreciated, if possible are pictures (real ones) of your missionary's family and friends.
6. Accountability
It is quite likely that your missionary needs a little accountability in their life, as does anyone else. We all have goals we wish to meet more often than we do. Who doesn't have the desire to read the Bible more often or lose that extra ten pounds or just eat healthier? Drop a note to your missionary and set up a monthly/weekly accountability email where you can encourage each other in those areas you are both struggling in. Your missionary needs someone to spill to about this sometimes.
7. Understand Your Missionary
Missionaries are a unique people. They are a people without a state. For example, I am no longer 100% American. Sure I was born in Texas and I carry the all coveted blue passport, but you will see, as you get to know me again, that there are some things that I do differently or even words that I say in a slightly British accent. I will never be the complete American with no concept of the outside world again. I will also never be 100% Albania. Actually I will probably always be a far cry from it. Your missionary needs you to accept them and love them for who they are now, not who they used to be. Things will change. They will not be the exact person you used to know. They will have matured in many ways, and they will get on your nerves in ways, because they are different than you remember. Cherish them anyway. They need a little TLC when they come home. They are pointed out for being different ALL the time in the international city they live in, when then come home, they just need you to understand.
8. Visit Them
I cannot stress this one enough. Your missionary knows that it is not possible for everyone to be jet-setting all the time, flying all over the world to every exotic location that exists. However, that being said, when a missionary goes two years without seeing anyone they know from their previous life, while others all around them have constant visitors, it is very difficult. All I am saying is if at all you can find a way, make a short visit. It will lift your missionary's spirits in a way you could never imagine.
9. Help Them Visit Home/Other Places
If money is not a problem, but time is because your job is demanding and you just can't even find time in the day to take a shower, then consider giving towards your missionary's furlough visits. I know many a missionary who have gone up to 4 years without being able to exit the country they are working in. It may not be possible to fly an American family living in Russia home, but consider asking them if there is a Christian conference in a neighboring country they would like to attend and see how you can help make that happen. As with any job, your missionary needs a break. The difference is that your missionary is LIVING at work 24/7. Keep that in mind as you think about how you can help.
As for now, that is what is on my heart. If you are a missionary reading this and have something to add to the list or would like to comment on something said here, please feel free to share. I might even extend the list.
Thanks for reading,
Julie
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
January 14, 2014
As many of you may have already heard from Facebook or my updates, I (with my roomie) have recently moved into a new house. I was so happy to be able to make the move because it is a bigger house in a quieter, yet more central neighborhood, and all for the same price as we were paying in the apartment. You can't ask for much better than that. We worried that the bills might be more expensive in a bigger house, but as it turns out it looks like it might all add up to be about the same; possibly even LESS.
God has taken care of our every desire in this move, but one thing I can certainly say is that it has made me very TIRED. You see, when we made the decision to move, we did it rather quickly, seeing as the house was everything we have been looking for for more than a year and it was being offered at a STEAL of a price. If we were going to make the move we needed to do it quickly. So, the 2 weeks we were scheduled to move house, I had also agreed to house sitting for another family in town while they were on a small vacation. Oh, and did I mention we did it all over the week of Christmas as well?
So, now I am finally feeling a little more settled in and I am almost feeling like the house is my home now. I love it so much, even though it has its own various quirks as would any house. It is what is known in Albania as a "cold house", meaning it gets very little sun throughout the day. Thankfully, though, the rooms in the house heat up a million times faster than our apartment (also cold) ever could have. Every evening we can heat up the living room with our wood burning stove, and once it is warm, little by little is is nearly possible to adequately heat the whole house. The only down side to that is that we are using more wood than before, but if you knew how grumpy I can get in the cold, you would use the wood too.
Another of the houses noticeable quirks is that it has concrete floors. This, in Albania, is a sign of being poor and is an absolute shame to many of our "working class" friends. We have heard many snide comments from many people and have even watch a few turn their noses up. However, little by little we will refinish the floors, likely with a stain of some sort. We are very excited about this option, because it is unique in Albania. No one has stained floors in their house. You either have unfinished cement or you have ceramic tile. A few people here and there may even have linoleum now, but this is a fairly new trend and hasn't completely caught on just yet. Like I said, we are excited to try out something simple, yet uncommon. Here's to stained concrete.
The worst quirk of our house, and it may even be found a considerable fault, is the bathroom. Thankfully it is not an eastern toilet, as you might have imagined. However, it is only one step up from that. It does have a porcelain toilet, which (I'm sorry) is SOOO cold to sit on in these winter months. I mean seriously? Other than that it is also what is considered a "wet bathroom". This means that it has a faucet and a shower head when the shower/bath should be, and a drain in the floor for the water to run to. No shower base, just freezing cold ceramic tile beneath our feet and covering the walls around. The water almost runs directly to the drain with a slight miss that can cause major flooding. So, with various towels directing run away water, we have managed to make it work, and although I had a grumpy outburst about it in the beginning, I am happy to say that the routine is working well for us now. How we can improve that situation in the future is still yet to be decided, but for now it helps me feel more like a missionary.
All this to say, that above all else, what matters is that God has provided for us in such a miraculous way. We prayed long and hard for just the right house. We would offer more than we could afford (in reality) for houses that were not quite right for us, and somehow it still didn't work out each time. But GOD. He KNEW. It never ceases to amaze me how much He cares about the little details in our lives. I mean, not only is the house cheaper than any price we had offered for any of the other house, but it even came with a cactus. I know, I know... a cactus????
For the longest time I have been talking about buying a little cactus to take raise in our garden. This has been a huge step for me because I am dubbed (by my own choosing) a plant killer. This all originates with a sweet little TINY baby cactus someone gave me when I moved out of my parents house and into my first apartment. I LOVED this cute little plant. It was like my baby. I'm sure I even gave it a name. However, the day I came home from work to realized I had over-watered and killed it ended everything plant related in my soul. Ok maybe that's dramatic, but for a long time I have not touched plants. My roommate, having heard the baby cactus story before, got very excited when I started to toy with the idea of trying again. So, one of my Christmas gifts for me this year was a beautiful ceramic pot with butterflies painted all over it. At this point we had nearly finished all our moving and had spent a lot of time in the new house. However, it wasn't until just a couple of days ago, that my roomie, while working in the garden, discovered a tiny potted plant that had been tipped on its side and fallen out of sight. As she picked it up she nearly shrieked. It was a tiny cactus. Yesterday I planted the little guy in my butterfly pot and I have studied the internet over to make sure I don't kill him (your prayers are much appreciated). Only time will tell, but I know that God took such good care of us that He found us the right house at the right price at the right time... and a cactus on top of it all.
Thanks for reading,
Julie
God has taken care of our every desire in this move, but one thing I can certainly say is that it has made me very TIRED. You see, when we made the decision to move, we did it rather quickly, seeing as the house was everything we have been looking for for more than a year and it was being offered at a STEAL of a price. If we were going to make the move we needed to do it quickly. So, the 2 weeks we were scheduled to move house, I had also agreed to house sitting for another family in town while they were on a small vacation. Oh, and did I mention we did it all over the week of Christmas as well?
So, now I am finally feeling a little more settled in and I am almost feeling like the house is my home now. I love it so much, even though it has its own various quirks as would any house. It is what is known in Albania as a "cold house", meaning it gets very little sun throughout the day. Thankfully, though, the rooms in the house heat up a million times faster than our apartment (also cold) ever could have. Every evening we can heat up the living room with our wood burning stove, and once it is warm, little by little is is nearly possible to adequately heat the whole house. The only down side to that is that we are using more wood than before, but if you knew how grumpy I can get in the cold, you would use the wood too.
Another of the houses noticeable quirks is that it has concrete floors. This, in Albania, is a sign of being poor and is an absolute shame to many of our "working class" friends. We have heard many snide comments from many people and have even watch a few turn their noses up. However, little by little we will refinish the floors, likely with a stain of some sort. We are very excited about this option, because it is unique in Albania. No one has stained floors in their house. You either have unfinished cement or you have ceramic tile. A few people here and there may even have linoleum now, but this is a fairly new trend and hasn't completely caught on just yet. Like I said, we are excited to try out something simple, yet uncommon. Here's to stained concrete.
The worst quirk of our house, and it may even be found a considerable fault, is the bathroom. Thankfully it is not an eastern toilet, as you might have imagined. However, it is only one step up from that. It does have a porcelain toilet, which (I'm sorry) is SOOO cold to sit on in these winter months. I mean seriously? Other than that it is also what is considered a "wet bathroom". This means that it has a faucet and a shower head when the shower/bath should be, and a drain in the floor for the water to run to. No shower base, just freezing cold ceramic tile beneath our feet and covering the walls around. The water almost runs directly to the drain with a slight miss that can cause major flooding. So, with various towels directing run away water, we have managed to make it work, and although I had a grumpy outburst about it in the beginning, I am happy to say that the routine is working well for us now. How we can improve that situation in the future is still yet to be decided, but for now it helps me feel more like a missionary.
All this to say, that above all else, what matters is that God has provided for us in such a miraculous way. We prayed long and hard for just the right house. We would offer more than we could afford (in reality) for houses that were not quite right for us, and somehow it still didn't work out each time. But GOD. He KNEW. It never ceases to amaze me how much He cares about the little details in our lives. I mean, not only is the house cheaper than any price we had offered for any of the other house, but it even came with a cactus. I know, I know... a cactus????
For the longest time I have been talking about buying a little cactus to take raise in our garden. This has been a huge step for me because I am dubbed (by my own choosing) a plant killer. This all originates with a sweet little TINY baby cactus someone gave me when I moved out of my parents house and into my first apartment. I LOVED this cute little plant. It was like my baby. I'm sure I even gave it a name. However, the day I came home from work to realized I had over-watered and killed it ended everything plant related in my soul. Ok maybe that's dramatic, but for a long time I have not touched plants. My roommate, having heard the baby cactus story before, got very excited when I started to toy with the idea of trying again. So, one of my Christmas gifts for me this year was a beautiful ceramic pot with butterflies painted all over it. At this point we had nearly finished all our moving and had spent a lot of time in the new house. However, it wasn't until just a couple of days ago, that my roomie, while working in the garden, discovered a tiny potted plant that had been tipped on its side and fallen out of sight. As she picked it up she nearly shrieked. It was a tiny cactus. Yesterday I planted the little guy in my butterfly pot and I have studied the internet over to make sure I don't kill him (your prayers are much appreciated). Only time will tell, but I know that God took such good care of us that He found us the right house at the right price at the right time... and a cactus on top of it all.
Thanks for reading,
Julie
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