Enough

I’ve been home over six months now. How has that happened? While I am getting used to life here and it’s more comfortable than six months ago, my heart still goes in waves of pain and regret that I don’t know how to process or deal with.

There has been so much change and transition over the last year that I keep moving forward not knowing what else to do, but hardly able to think clearly enough to know if the steps I’m taking are actually the right ones or not.

A year ago, I was still single, living in Latvia, honestly thinking about renewing my commitment to stay another year, but not exactly sure what was next. I went home in June and decided at that point that I would go home at the end of the year rather than stay. In July, I met Nehemiah while he was in Latvia, we decided to start dating, and then began my countdown till I was going home. Through the end of the summer and beginning of fall I had to make a lot of difficult decisions, continually trying to discern what God wanted for me while wrestling with the many heartaches I carried. It was decided that I would go home November 11th. So I went through the routines of my life, working at the café, going to meetings, going to the center every other week, leading worship at church, spending time with friends, going on many walks in beautiful Riga, volunteering weekly at the day center, seeing a counselor, trying to process and heal so I could move on from that season in a healthy place. I went to Ireland at the end of October at this point so tired and ready to be done with everything. The two week course was good, I think, but I was dealing with so much at that point, I hardly remember it. Then I had two weeks left in Riga. I was ready to go home but heartbroken to be leaving. Saying goodbye to so many people and places that I loved so dearly. And then I was home. Then engaged. Then moved into Nehemiah’s apartment in Snoqualmie. Then married. Then trying to plan a ceremony for February. Then nannying and working a few days a week. Then married again. Then working for Color Me Mine. Then applying for grad school. Then accepted. Then promoted to manager. And now here I am. It’s too much all at once. Even writing it all out reminds me that I don’t even know what has happened over the last six months except in these broad strokes. I can tell you all about the last two weeks in Riga in detail, but the last month, I have no idea really. It’s such a blur. And not really in a good way.

Weeks go by where I don’t see anyone besides Nehemiah or people at work. I’m not doing anything that really gives me purpose or life. I don’t play guitar anymore. I haven’t written anything since December. I do go on walks sometimes, but I get tired of this little city with nowhere to go. I long for community and meaningful work, I long for fellowship and connection, I long to hear God’s voice again and to praise him with songs and prayer. But somehow, I find that I don’t know how to create any of this by myself. I’ve lived in Christian communities for so long now that I don’t know how to foster a relationship with God by myself. I know he’s still here and still guiding me, but he’s been quiet, and I’ve been quiet. I just don’t know how to be anything else. I barely have the energy to wake up and go to work and spend time with Nehemiah, and yet I long for so much more, but don’t know how to get there. And I don’t know how to have grace for myself in this all. I’ve done so much in my short life that slowing down and having a more normal life just doesn’t make sense to me.

So this is where I’m at right now. Still very much in transition. Still exhausted most days. Still longing for more. But I keep waking up. I keep making baby steps forward. And for now, I have to trust and believe that is enough.

Changing Seasons

A year ago at this time I was hanging out in Northern Ireland after completing the first part of the same counseling course that I just finished doing the second part. As I sit in the Dublin airport waiting for my flight to head back to Riga, it's amazing to think how much has happened and changed over this year.

A year ago I was in process of moving from Valdemarpils to Riga, after spending six months living and working at the Women's Center, and realizing I was far too unhealthy to continue there. I packed up my life in Valdemarpils, went to Ireland for three weeks, then came back to everything being in Riga, Everything in my heart and life seemed to be falling apart and I didn't know what to do with myself. So I moved to Riga, deciding to try and continue with my commitment to work in Latvia two years, even though I wasn't sure I wanted to, and I didn't know what it would really look like. But because I'm a stubborn human being and didn't know what else to do, I stayed.

I soon shifted into my new role in Riga. Going to the cafe to do street ministry once a week, joining the old town outreach with leading the prayer team, helping coordinate and meet with new volunteers, doing the main communication and social media work, and all the random meetings and tasks in between.

It was all good and exciting enough for awhile. I loved living in the city, with the cute stores and coffee shops, and always something going on. Our interns were wonderful, I was able to reconnect with the community at the international church in Riga, I was looking for a new flat with some friends, and I finally felt like I was pulling my life together again.

After spending Christmas back in the States, I headed back to Riga looking forward to what was in front of me. Many things were still in transition, but it seemed to be coming together and I was excited to be part of all the work going on there. All that said, I'm not exactly sure when it started, but at some point between the winter and spring my heart started to fall apart again. With the busyness of my work and life I had quite successfully avoided dealing with any of the hurt or emotions that had come up while living in Valdemarpils, but it couldn't be avoided forever.

It started small of course. One miscommunication with a coworker. One evening at the cafe where a girl needed something that I didn't know how to provide, One too many nights of poor sleep. But as the stress and weariness continued to build, so did the chaos and my inability to control it. Meetings and structure were rarely consistent, Volunteers and interns came and went. I started to lead a Bible study with some ladies at my church to try and do something outside of just work, but I rarely had the energy to actually enjoy it. This all continued to spiral downward and I knew that something drastic needed to change, because I couldn't continue as it was.

After saying goodbye to one wave of friends near the end of spring and going into the summer I was at a particular low point, but things slowly started shifting again in a better direction. I started seeing a counselor, I started volunteering at Hope for Children, the days were getting longer and warmer again, and I was learning better how to take care of myself in the midst of all the changes and uncertainty.

Near the end of June, I was able to go home for a few weeks for my brother’s wedding. While there I really decided that I would go home at the end of this year and not continue working with Freedom61. It was a weird thing to realize that everything I had been working and building there wasn’t what I could or wanted to do. I had to start shifting my dreams again, for what I thought I wanted to do with my life turned out to be quite a bit different than what I expected and I was nearing burn out with only a year and a half of working with this ministry.

As I was realizing and deciding these things I headed back to Riga, at the beginning of July, looking towards the last few months there, anxious and uncertain, but trusting that God didn’t call me to this country or ministry just to abandon me there without purpose.

Then these last four months have flown by, and God has been so good to me in the midst of this season, and I’m not even sure where the time has gone. I’m sure I’ll have a better blog post about the last few months a bit down the road once I’ve had a minute to process it all.

But here I am now. One year later. Heading back home to the States in just under two weeks. And being in Ireland again I could really see how much I’ve grown this last year. I am stronger now, more confident, more at peace, Able to look at my circumstances and time and say this was a good season, despite the many challenges it brought. God truly is able to redeem anything and turn what seemed like an ongoing train wreck waiting to happen, into a beautifully messy work of art.

To feel or not to feel

There has been a question that has been haunting me over the last few years. If you could do anything that you wanted with nothing standing in your way, what would you want to do?

I hate the ambiguity of this question, it's so open ended, and requires so much dreaming and vulnerability and leaps of faith. In some ways it's the ultimate question that leads to letting go of control and perfection, and embracing the crazy roller coaster of my emotions and feelings. It's doing what I want. It's following my heart desires. It's letting go of other people's expectations and just following those things God has placed on my heart to do. Which I'm not exactly sure why, but it's a terrifying thought.

Over the last month and a half, especially, God has been slowly opening my heart up again. And what incredible timing he has. 

I was able to go home for my brother's wedding at the end of June, which was such a good thing. And it was while I was there I really decided I wanted to come home after my two year commitment with Freedom61, and get my master's in mental health counseling. Meaning when I returned to Latvia, it would only be for six months, and I was so relieved at this thought. Don't get me wrong, I am so glad for this opportunity to be here, to learn and grow, and experience the world through a new perspective. I would not trade these years here for anything, but I can tell that this isn't what I want to do with my life forever and am ready for something new. 

After returning to Latvia a month ago I quickly slid back into life here. But things were starting to shift in my heart and mind and circumstances. I was constantly wrestling with myself about what these six months would be. I could either turn off all my feelings and emotions and push through my time here and deal with the consequences of numbing to such a degree later. Or I could choose to be vulnerable and open with myself and my team, find reasons to be grateful and joyful, and make the most of this time with open hands to what God has for me. 

So what did I want? If I could do anything with my current situation, what would I want to do? Just leave and go home? Push through? Find joy in the midst of challenges? To be honest, a big part of me didn't want to be here and didn't want to feel anything. But even more so, I wanted to take a hold of my life again and reclaim the promises that God had set before me years ago. I wanted to believe that I am enough, that I am worthy of being loved and taken care of, and that people are trying their best. I wanted to believe these things and work through the mess that was in the way of my disbelief.

Thankfully this second desire won out. For even as I wrestled and started to open my palms to God again, to believe in his goodness and love for me, the most incredible gift walked into my life that I never could have imagined. 

To give the short story, because the long version would have to be a separate blog post entirely, I met a boy, who through extraordinary circumstances decided to come to Latvia to do some video work for Freedom61. And over the last two weeks we have decided to start dating, even though he is now back in the States again. But I am more than grateful that he is suddenly in my life, no matter how fast it may seem.

Truly, I don't think it's a coincidence that even as my heart was becoming open to God's love and care again, and even as I allowed myself the option of being vulnerable and feeling happy again, that this young man became a part of my life. I am amazed at God's good gifts and incredible timing and can't wait to see how this will all continue to develop. 

I suppose I could say that I'm glad I went with the option to feel. 

When Top Gun is far too similar to my life

Sometimes I can't begin to process all the thoughts in my head. The last few months especially have been such a whirlwind of events that my mind can't quite keep up with it all. Finally though things have been slowing down a little bit. Or maybe I've just been shutting down. But either way, my ability to process and think and write is slowly returning again.

It was about a year ago now that I was getting ready to move to Valdemarpils to open the Women's Center. Easter was the first weekend I was living there. Lonely and overwhelmed, not entirely sure what I had just gotten myself into. So much has changed since then, although, to be honest, I still wonder sometimes what in the world I have gotten myself into here. 

You know how sometimes you watch a movie or read a book and suddenly you realize that you relate way too closely with what is happening in the story. That was me this last Thursday watching Top Gun, of all the movies. 

*Warning, if you haven't seen it, I'm going to give away an important part of the story.*

Well there's this part where the main character, Maverick and his friend and copilot, Goose, are in the air doing some sort of training exercise, and the engines on their plane stop working and they have to eject and get out of the plane to get to safety. In the process though Goose gets hurt and ends up dying. Truly, it was tragic. If I wasn't conveniently trying to eat an orange while this was all happening I would probably have been dying of tears. After this happens Maverick has to decide whether he will continue with his training or not. He has to battle through his pain and fear and get back into the plane and fly. Later, finishing his training, he had to then go into a real scenario and his choice to engage in the battle would mean life or death for his wing-man in another plane. 

Talk about a lot of pressure and responsibility. I mean, this guy recently watched his friend die, then he has to go again into the same scenario and his choices and actions will determine whether another friend might die or not. I can't even. 

While I was watching I kept thinking how I would never want to be placed in that kind of situation. How I would never be able to handle that amount of pressure and responsibility. But then I started realizing how in a lot of ways I am in a similar situation with my work here in Latvia. And I am hardly standing. This weight of responsibility is truly almost too much to bear. 

Over this last year I helped open the Women's Center, then worked there for six months, having two women there over the middle two months. I then moved back to Riga where I predominately focus on the ministry cafe and serving the women still working on the streets. Since I moved back to Riga we have had three women at the Center for a time as well, although over the last week and a half they are now all gone, for various reasons. If I'm not careful I can get so weighed down by all these things. 

The constant rejection from the women on the streets. Their happy smiles but hopeless stares as they say they want Jesus and a different life, but then continue living as they always have. Every night that we go out I never know what to expect. I have to choose to open my heart again to these women who I never know what they might say or do. They may say they want to accept Christ, so we pray with them, then watch them go out to work again. They may say they want to go to the center, so we walk them through that process for them not to show up the next day. They may even go to the center, but then leave two weeks later. They may come in one night so full of hope and life, then you find out a week later they have died since you last saw them. You never know.

It's a constant cycle of uncertainty, and it is far too easy to take on more responsibility than I ought.

But as soon as I try to take on this responsibility for the women or the cafe or even the center, it crushes me. I can't handle the weight of knowing that my being in the cafe one night may affect whether a girl receives hope that night or not. I can't handle the weight of making sure every women has heard the gospel or not. I can't handle the weight of the choices of a woman who is living in a constant downward spiral. 

I have to remember who holds the full responsibility for these women. I have to remember the hope of Easter, of Jesus' death, burial, and resurrection. Jesus is alive so that we can be made alive as well! 

It's true I can't handle this weight. I'm not made for it. I'm not Maverick with the guts to fly a fighter jet and save people's lives, even after watching his own friend die. But I'm also a lot stronger than I probably even realize. And as I constantly put the responsibility back into the hands of Jesus who is Lord over all these things, I can continue being faithful here even in the midst of all this uncertainty. 

Thankful Heart

Growing up, Thanksgiving was always my favorite holiday. I loved the crisp in the fall air, the change of seasons, the day to see family, play games, eat food, make memories. Over the last few years, our holiday traditions have shifted as us kids get older, move away from home, start new families and new traditions.

But it's a nostalgic thing.

This year, being in Latvia on Thanksgiving. The first time not being with family on this favorite holiday of mine. It makes my heart sad. But thinking over the last year, over all the things I've been able to do, all the ways I've grown and developed, all the people I have met and grown to cherish, I may be sad in this moment, but I have so much to be grateful for.

I am grateful for the stretching moments. The last few years have been filled with challenges, but each moment of difficulty has provided me so many opportunities to grow. I have grown in my faith and my ability to trust fully in God. I have grown in my identity, being rooted and grounded in who I am before Christ rather than before people. I have grown in my abilities, doing so many things comfortably now that I never thought I would ever do. I have grown in my sense of adventure, seeing each moment as an opportunity to widen my perspective, rather than just being afraid of change and newness. I have grown in my ability to be thankful for the little things, seeing beauty and joy in the world around me.

I am grateful for all the people I've met. I am grateful for all the new places I've been able to explore and fall in love with. I am grateful for the ability to look ahead with anticipation. I am grateful for all the ways God heals my heart.

So much to be grateful for. It is good to be reminded of these things.

This Thanksgiving may look a little different. But really, it's because of these differences that I can truly be so grateful here on this day.

Thriving Daisies

A few weeks ago while we were doing a prayer walk I came across a few lone daisies that were in the field in front of my house. These simple, beautiful flowers that somehow survived through the beginning of fall, after the field got mowed, with cold weather, harsh winds and all. In that moment I knew ever so gently that I also would survive. Despite the constant change, overwhelming pressures, and always functioning out of my comfort zone, I knew I would survive. Then I was surprised when God whispered again, not only will you survive, you will thrive. I saw the little daisies and I saw all the ups and downs of the last months, and tried to believe thriving was possible, but I didn't understand how.

Then a week and a half ago, I was given a question I didn't know how to process. Would you like to move back to Riga? There is a need there, and with how you have struggled in Valdemārpils, Riga might be better fit for you.

All I could do was cry.

It felt as if I was admitting defeat. I have tried so hard to make a life for myself here in this tiny city. I have done so much, and felt on the cusp of something about to change, but never would I have imagined that change would have been to leave. To take all the pieces from the six months of living here and drop them in order to shift roles yet again. I would miss my little room in this countryside house, the friends at the YWAM base down the road, the church in Talsi I was finally starting to connect with, the opportunity to help run the Women's Center like I originally planned and hoped to do when coming to Latvia.

But then I looked ahead, to what it might mean to live in Riga instead. It meant community and support from friends and mentors outside of just work. It meant having the space to actually have healthy boundaries. It meant helping run the cafe and the different ministry opportunities in Riga. It meant investing in and relating to the girls in order to build their trust so that they actually feel welcomed to go to the center when they are ready to. It meant having the freedom and ability to actually flourish in what I enjoy and am good at within this ministry while still growing and learning in other ways.

It meant having a chance to thrive, rather than just survive.

In all this processing, I went out walking again. As I went by one of the neighbors fields I had to do a double take because I realized the field was completely covered in daisies. Beautiful, dazzling, thriving daisies. It didn't matter that the air was getting cooler and fall had come, the daisies still grew, and it was the sweetest confirmation of all I had been concluding.

So now, after nine months living in Latvia, three in Riga, six in Valdemarpils, I am getting ready to move back to Riga again. While it is yet another transition, I truly trust that this will be such a good thing. I'm getting ready now to go to Northern Ireland for a seminar for three weeks, then off to Riga I go!

Letting Go

Letting go. It's really hard. Especially coming from a hardcore wanna be control freak.

I've always been a perfectionist, pouring hours into the tiniest details so that everything will be just right, and still not being satisfied with the final product. Thankfully, a lot of the worst of this habit was stemmed in college, when suddenly perfectionism wasn't really an option anymore and God started working a lot in my heart in this area. But sometimes it still decides to rears its ugly head, lately it has been in my desire to control my ever changing circumstances, and failing miserably.

Over the last three weeks my life has been flipped upside down on a seemingly rotating basis, with absolutely nothing ordinary or predictable, and so my stress levels and desire to control my circumstances have peaked at an outrageous rate. Yet God is telling me to let it all go.

A little less than three weeks ago our first girl who was at the center decided to leave. I was devastated. Six weeks of pouring my heart and soul into this girl who was just starting to open up to us, before deciding that she just couldn't stay, couldn't face her fears, couldn't face her past, and just kept running. So we had to let her go. We had to trust that God had her in his hands, and we played our part for those six weeks, but then had to let her choose to leave.

That very same day, another girl came to the center. And I had to cautiously allow my heart to open up to her, even as my heart grieved the loss of the first. With this second girl another layer of challenge was introduced, as she did not speak any English, where our first girl did. I have definitely learned some Latvian over the last six and a half months, but not really enough to effectively communicate with her. So I had to let go of language. It's truly amazing how much you can communicate without language, but at the same time you can only do so much. As I tried to introduce her to life at the center, so much was lost, and our perfect structure and order (that really isn't that perfect), just had to be let go.

Then the next week was constant adjustment as we had an American team here, one of the main staff at the center left for America for a month, we had two new interns arrive, and suddenly I was put in charge of life at the center.  Throughout this week God was constantly challenging me to give it all to him, to trust him, to let him be in control, to let it all go. And man I fought it. Trying to keep my head above water was hard enough, let alone relinquishing it all to God, and letting him carry my burdens. Somehow that was just too challenging.

Then a week ago today, our second girl also decided to leave. My heart still hurts to think about it. But I know writing these words will help bring healing to my soul. We had to let her go. And maybe she'll come back, maybe she won't, either way I can't control it. We might have another girl move in this week, maybe next week, maybe not for another month and a half. another thing I can't control. And when girls move in, when the center is really fully functioning again, there will be countless things that I can't control.

The wind blows, the rain falls, seasons come and go, and God sees it all, and I must trust that he sees this little corner of Latvia too. He is the one ultimately in control, I am just along for the adventure he places in front of me planting seeds along the way, and I have to learn to be okay with that.