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.

Visiting Switzerland

I had the wonderful opportunity to go to Switzerland for a week to take some holiday time and visit two friends. Here's some of what I did, and most importantly pictures!

I headed out from Latvia Thursday early, early in the morning to arrive in Zurich a few hours later. I was able to catch the train from there and traveled to the city of Langenthal where I stayed for the next few days. While there I was staying with a girl who was in my DTS, and it was so fun to see her and catch up after almost two years. While staying with her we kept so busy seeing a different part of Switzerland every day. It is truly such a beautiful country!

We went to Bern, climbed the 46 meter steeple of the Catholic church, explored the walking streets, marveled at the glacier fed river that was bright teal, and saw the park where bears play, although unfortunately all the bears were hiding in their caves that day. I also learned that Bern is actually the capital of Switzerland, not Zurich.

The next day we went to Montroux and saw some of the French part of Switzerland. There we also explored the beautiful Chateau De Chillon and took the ferry across Lac Lamon and saw some of the alps peaking through the clouds.

Saturday, we went to the Cailler chocolate factory. So much fun, and such good chocolate. There's a reason Switzerland is known for it. Yum.

Sunday, I went to church with her family then headed to Biel to meet up with my other friend for a few days more in the countryside of Switzerland. We spent the next few days exploring near her home, visiting the "grand canyon" of Switzerland, the Creux Du Van, and even visited France for an afternoon, since she lives so close to the border.

Overall this was such a good week of stepping back from all the craziness of Latvia. It wasn't quite as restful as maybe I would have liked, but it was such a good time of enjoying another part of our beautiful world while visiting old friends and seeing new cultures while at it.

Thinking About Privilege

Sitting with head bowed, eating dinner quietly and quickly, so careful and precise, constantly afraid to offend. The silence is almost brutal. I sit, waiting, praying, eating slowly, peacefully, trying to make small conversation if the opportunity arises.  

We have had one girl at the center, almost three weeks now. This has been the longest three weeks ever, yet so much has happened. It’s as if I just blinked and the time has passed. I don’t quite know how to process it all, but I know I have already learned so much from this dear sweet girl.

She doesn’t talk much. But she loves reading, crocheting, dancing, gardening, and trying new things. She has been the most willing and able student as we fumble about trying to figure out best how to actually run this center, bringing her along for the ride. It has been such a joy to see her begin to open up, begin to trust us, begin to show us who she really is, since we didn’t know her much at all when she came to us. It is a patient waiting game, as she patiently goes through each day, and we learn to be patient and relax in the process.

Meeting her has also taught me so much about privilege. Privilege is one of those topics that I tend to avoid, since it is so often discussed and thrown about in every circle imaginable. But the reality of my privilege is so tangible in moments like this that it almost makes me ill.

It is such a privilege that I can choose where I want to be in the world, and what I want to do with my life. It is such a privilege that I grew up with opportunities to dream and then given the resources to follow my dreams. It is such a privilege that I have people who have been willing to listen to me and process with me as I have learned who I am in this world and my place in it. It is such a privilege that I grew up surrounded by the Word of God and have grown to love and rely upon its truth to sustain me. It is such a privilege that I have been encouraged to live life fully, to find moments that allow me to thrive and not just survive.

These gifts that build my privilege I often take for granted. But when you ask someone what they wanted to be when they were a child, and they have no concept to even give you an answer, you can’t help but see how drenched in privilege you are. 

Springtime Growth

Lately, I've been tired. Just worn down. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. And not really for any good reason. Just because, I suppose.

Also lately, God has been doing so much in my heart and mind. I've had so many things to think about and process that I can't seem to ever get my thoughts into writing, no matter how much I've tried. So I'm often left filled with relentless thoughts that never seem to find a place to rest. Hence the tiredness I suppose.

Ever since the weekend of the opening, a little over a month now, God has been showing me pieces of how he's made me, how he's created me, what I'm designed for. The last two years, since graduating college, have been a whirlwind of events and emotions, leaving me in some ways not really sure who I was anymore. So now in these quiet moments waiting for the building to be inspected, before girls move in and life picks up again, God has been softly speaking into my heart, breathing new life and identity into my weary soul.

As I walk through the forest and watch the springtime unfold my heart begins to beat again. Remembering the moments in my life that have brought me life. Seeing the times where I have felt the sweet presence of Jesus guiding me when everything around me seemed to be falling apart. Times spent hanging out with middle school students doing absolutely ridiculous things. Times walking alongside friends offering hope and comfort in the midst of chaos. Times digging into the Word of God seeking answers to hard questions, finding ways to make a complex truth accessible. Times learning and discovering new things.

My life has been incredibly blessed, yet in many ways incredibly chaotic. And I am truly grateful for both ends of the spectrum. For the blessings have given me opportunities to thrive, while the chaos has given me opportunities to grow. It's been in those moments of chaos where I see God's hand most strongly, and I would not replace those moments for anything, no matter how difficult they have been. Even now in the midst of transition, in a country I can't seem to call home yet, waiting for the ministry to begin which I came here for, learning to allow God to be the satisfaction of my soul above all else as he teaches me more about his kingdom and my place in it.

I am ever growing, ever learning, seeking to find peace in a world wrought with challenge, fighting for the joy that once defined me, allowing compassion to once again guide me, living in trust and faith rather than fear, holding on to the hope that gives me strength, fully resting in the truth of my God's love. 

True Things

Transitions are hard. But moving forward is a beautiful thing.

It's easy to become overwhelmed. But God's grace for each moment is enough to give the strength to take one step at a time.

Being uncomfortable is challenging, especially when the discomfort seems to constantly ebb and flow, shifting but never subsiding. But comfort isn't the goal of life, and sometimes being uncomfortable for a time is worth the fruit on the other side of it.

Feeling incapable can easily become an excuse for not trying. But slowly accomplishing little tasks you never thought you could do is incredibly rewarding, knowing that if God has called you to do something, He will grant the strength to accomplish it.

Becoming anxious is a well worn habit. But looking past the small stressful moment at hand to the bigger picture brings such perspective and peace, knowing that while in the moment it may seem like too much but later on down the road it will all work out and end up being hardly a wrinkle on the way.

Comparison and envy come quickly when looking at your flaws next to someone else. But remembering that we are all created uniquely with different gifts and talents, and not letting comparison cloud your ability to rejoice in your own identity alongside the identity of others, brings such unity and harmony.

Moments cause me to crumple, weak and exhausted, drained and burdened. But remembering where I've come and what I have overcome over the last few years makes me so grateful for each moment I now have and gives me the strength to keep moving forward in God's everlasting kindness and grace.

And now. The Women's Center is open, as of this last Saturday. The reason I came to Latvia. To work in the center, to live and love and walk alongside women, to help them see the beauty amidst the broken. God has been working and growing my heart in so many ways, and though I am still so weak and uncertain most of the time, He gives me all I need, and constantly will. As girls will soon be moving here I know I will continue to learn to rely on God even more than ever before.

Dare To Dream

I've been realizing lately that I'm not very good at dreaming.

That moment at a team meeting where we are encouraged to pray and think about our dreams and write them down, and all I can do is cry, clearly something wasn't quite right.

After that afternoon a few weeks ago, I have been on a whirlwind of emotions processing so many things from my two months here in Riga, to the last few years, to earlier. Thinking about how I used to plan out my life with excitement and determination. How I used to be known for my joy and smile. How I used to have so much life and energy. But on the flipside, how I used to be constantly afraid of what other's thought, constantly hiding behind a wall of anxiety and worry. How I used to be bombarded with the lies of perfectionism and the pride of accomplishments. How I used to never speak out my thoughts or opinions because of fear of rejection. How much I've grown, and how much I still need to grow.

Also, looking back at the season of depression my senior year of college, and how much that robbed me off my life and health. But also seeing how much fruit came out of it. So much stronger in my weakness, with such deep roots and understanding of God's ever present love and faithfulness. But I think that season taught me to stop dreaming. By God's grace I continually kept taking steps forward, even being dragged along with my face in the dirt for awhile, but forward motion nonetheless. But even though I was moving forward, and am even still taking those steps forward, I haven't dared to let myself look up beyond where I need to place my foot next.

Looking up takes a certain courage. It requires you to let go of control. You can see forward, but in order to keep moving you might not be able to see what is directly under your feet. To dream then is to relinquish that control. To say, yes I want that, even if it may never come to be. It's terrifying! But also so freeing. To let go, to imagine a better place, to let God take you by the hand and lead you forward with his best in mind, as your heart and desires continually become more like his.

Growth, healing, life, joy, energy, hope, peace, lasting relationships. These things I so long for. Dare I begin to dream that they might possibly come to be? Only by God's grace.

Letting go, looking up, stepping forward, going onward, one step at a time.

Meeting the Girls

(Note: All the names used in this post have been changed for the privacy and protection of the girls) 

I've gone out on the streets four times now. With my role here in Riga primarily focused on the transition center and getting that ready to open in April, I haven't done a lot of street ministry, but Thursday nights I do get to go out. And those nights make this all so worth it.

The remarkable thing about starting to get to know the girls on the streets is that really, they aren't that different than me. They are humans who have been hurt in their life and circumstances have led them to where they are now. So on the outside they may look different, but deep down their needs and desires are no different than my own.

My first night going to the cafe Chloe was one of the few girls I met. She came in and the other volunteers were so happy to see her, since apparently she had been away for a few months, and they didn't know where she had been or what happened to her. Another night she chatted with us for quite awhile, and painted my nails and gave me some of her nail polish. She speaks quite a bit of English, but Russian is her first language. Some nights she pretends to only know Russian and when we ask her things in English or Latvian she acts like she doesn't understand or just responds in Russian. Each week she wears brightly colored barrettes in her hair, bright blues and pinks and purple. Such a little thing, but so noticeable.

Another girl, Julia, so beautiful and sweet and happy. One night she came back to the cafe four times, always so eager to see us with hugs and smiles abounding. Sometimes I try to practice my Latvian with her, but she just laughs at me or gives me a funny look. Clearly, I need to keep practicing.

The last two weeks going to the cafe, Shawna has been particularly on my heart and mind. Two weeks ago now, she came into the cafe with scabs all over her face, apparently she had a seizure earlier in the week and fell and scraped up her face. As soon as I saw her, my heart cried out and I felt so much love and care for her. We spent the next hour or so just making silly conversation. I would point to my hat and say it in English, she would say it in Russian and I would try to repeat it but severely struggled and she would just laugh at me. After she left the cafe I went and did dishes and all I could do was pray for her that she would feel God's love and peace that night as she was in so much pain. Then last week when she came in her face was almost completely clear. She was completely full of joy and was so incredibly glad to see me and she told us how last week we prayed for her then two days later she woke up and her face was completely clear. It was incredible. Then that whole night she talked with two of our volunteers who knew Russian, telling them how when she came in to the cafe she didn't feel the need to smoke anymore and how it was so peaceful and loving and that she knew God was here, even though she didn't understand it at all. At one point she turned to me with tears in her eyes saying that I was like an angel and was amazed at how I looked at her like she was a human and didn't shun her. She jokingly said that I was her little cutie and told me that I must never lose my happiness. All I could do was thank God that he was touching her and that I had the opportunity to show her his love.

The last few days I actually spent in Lithuania, visiting a teen challenge center there for women. Again, at that center I was struck by the women and how really their lives aren't that much different than mine. It was so encouraging to see them on the other side of their addictions though. So much love, joy, hope, and life that they carried and shared with everyone around them. To see that center that has been running for over ten years and see the fruit and changed lives that have come out of it, it made me so much more excited for our own center to open. These four weeks in Riga have been good, but I don't feel like I am really doing that much right now. I am so looking forward to the day that we open the center and I have the opportunity to really walk alongside the women who choose to leave their life on the streets and show them the hope and life that they can have in Jesus.

With Love

"You have to do it gently, with love. You are using too much force, do it with love." This was the advice given to me by my landlord when I couldn't figure out how to unlock the door to my apartment building my second night here. It turns out that doors in Latvia and I don't quite get along, but that's a whole other story.

This theme of doing things "with love," has been continually on my mind these two weeks now of being here in Riga.

The nation of Latvia has so much history, so much beauty, so much pain. They have been through hell and back yet are now standing on their own two feet, making something out of it. I don't think I can even begin to grasp yet the extent of this mix of beauty and pain that they have experienced. And I don't want to be the foreigner who comes in and suddenly thinks they know and understand everything. The truth is I don't. I am an American who understands comfort and peace and never really being in need. So who am I to say I know this culture. I must ease into my life here gently, with love, patiently exploring the places and people around me.

I have started learning some Latvian, taking private lessons two times a week. I have gone to a church twice now, just a small group of individuals that meet in an apartment. It is my second time finding a community in an international baptist church in Europe, first in Copenhagen, now here. I have gone out to do ministry in the cafe once last Thursday, I'll go again tonight. With that aspect of my life here I will especially have to ease into it gently. I came here to Riga to work with these girls on the street, but being here I've really spent very little time actually on the streets doing ministry. Most of my life, here in Riga especially, will be in the office, learning Latvian, going to meetings, praying, drinking lots of coffee, doing research for the transition center, and a little bit of street ministry once a week.

Everything here takes so much longer to do. To get to the office every day I can either walk half an hour or take the tram and maybe save 10 minutes. Groceries only last a few days and I have such little storage and fridge space that I have to go shopping once or twice a week. There aren't any microwaves, so to eat leftovers means heating up your food over the stove. All the little adjustments to make. I must do it gently, with love, giving myself grace to learn the new little ways to live.

Then I was able to go out to Valdemārpils last Friday to actually seen the transition center. The town which will become my home in just a few months. It was a bit shocking to be honest. Seeing the house where I will be living and seeing how much work needs to be done to really make it a home. Again, grace, gently, with love. I can't expect that everything will be perfect in order before I even begin. I cannot come into a new place full force, sometimes it is necessary to be slow, gentle, to take things one step at a time. The progress on the transition center itself was wonderful to see, but I know that moving to Valdemārpils in April will definitely stretch me far beyond my comfort zone.

As I adjust here, I must do so with love. To see how much God loves Latvia, so see how I can also learn to love this nation. To see with his eyes rather than just my own. To embrace the slow pace as I start to construct my structure for each week. To see the joy in each moment and learn to laugh at the things that might otherwise be frustrating. To invest in each person and opportunity, yet take time to be still and recharge.

You have to do it gently, with love.