Simply Extraordinary

The weeks are flying by. It's crazy. These last two were full of researching and filling out visa forms, preparing budgets for outreach and feeble attempts to organize some type of a schedule for our time China. All great things, but all also enough to make this girl more than enthusiastic about receiving the weekend, and two days off coming with it. Usually, I spend a good portion (five hours minimum) of one of those days at Starbucks, a “work” day I like to call it, so this last weekend was no different. Or so I thought (Insert suspenseful music here...)

Since I don’t have a vehicle here I tend to do alot of walking. Hitchhiking is an option, just not one I’ve accustomed myself too. Something about being alone and finally coming to terms with the fact that I am not as indestructible as I'd like to think. Anyway, the walk isn’t bad, a little over a mile, and takes me about twenty minutes depending on the pace I assume. The only reason I share this apparently insignificant information is because it will be essential in helping you grasp the beauty of how my seemingly ordinary day became simply extraordinary.

Money was tight, atleast in terms of what I had on me as I walked. Five one dollar bills and a gift card with $2.87 left on it. Also, it is important to point out that things here, in Hawaii, are a bit higher in price than the mainland, and being so I found myself with an unfortunate conundrum. I was concerned about the length of time I wanted to spend at Starbucks equally my ability to milk a drink for all it was worth, meaning the length of time I hoped to be there. If my drink cup was emptied, say about two hours in, and I knew I had another 3 hours or so to go, a strange sense of guilt would begin to form within me followed closely by a subtle paranoia of which I would unintentionally direct towards each barista and their eyes of "condemnation," internet “mooch” and “corner table waster”... Yea, yea, so this may seem a bit dramatic, but don’t deny there are times you’ve felt guilty sitting in a place without having purchased something... or you have purchased something but you have since finished it, yet remain in your chair enjoying the hard seat and straight back... Alright, now we are on the same page (atleast literally, if you are still confused...)

As soon as I began my walk I dropped my identity of English major, temporarily I assure you, and naively picked up the role of mathematician (for future reference, I do not recommend this) and so for the next twenty-ish minutes I pondered how to get my Grande Caramel Frappeccino with two shots of espresso, a drink costing $6 minimum, while leaving change to get a regular coffee for $1.50 and maybe even a refill for 50 cents (tax was not included in my mathematics, I had to draw the line somewhere...) By the time I arrived at Starbucks, back sweat and all, I had yet to come to a solution of how to make my financials match my desires. And so I spent the first 40 minutes upon arrival pretending to read, but really just trying to figure out my life. Finally, with a huge sigh and a heavy step I approached the register.


Barista 2 –“ I like your headband”

Me- “Ahhhh, thanks!”

Pause

Me to Barista 1- “How much is a shot of espresso?

Barista 1- “70 cents”

Me- forlorn “Oh, hmmm, so two shots would be $1.40 then huh?”
I wasn’t kidding about practicing my math during the walk, good thing too... came in handy at this point in the convo)

Barista 1 – “Something like that, plus tax”

Me- “And a cup of coffee is around 1.50?”

Barista 1- “Yea...”

Me- sighing, “Ok...... I would like Grande Frapp with one shot espresso, please”
(*important note- I had wanted two shots, because I very much enjoy the stronger coffee flavor paired with the medium sized Caramel Frappe, however, I could have gotten the smaller size with just one shot and the flavor balance would have been comparable. BUT since I hadn’t had dinner I chose to sacrifice flavor for quantity... therefore ordering the medium with one shot... Anyway, carrying on ;)


After placing my order, and paying Barista 1, I took a seat and began to wait for my drink. They had written my name on the cup, so after a few short minutes (way better than “long minutes”- those are the worst) “Erica” rang out and I raised my eyes towards the pickup counter. What I saw was something unexpected and at the same time extraordinary. Something tall, tan and beautiful. Yes, a Caramel Frappeccino, like I had ordered, but this one came in the form of a Vente, which for those unfamiliar with Starbucks lingo, is a size larger than I ordered. As neared the counter, trying to conceal my smiles, Barista 2 learned over,


Barista 2 – “I snuck that extra shot in there for you”

Me – Smile, Smile, SMILE “Thank you” SMILE


I gingerly grabbed my drink, smiles breaking free at last, and returned to my dimly lit seat in the corner, thinking to myself over and over, “This is the best day of my life. I am the luckiest girl alive... ”

Alright, now, all excessively unnecessary, yet highly enjoyable, dramatic tones set aside and genuine sincerity retrieved, this was a big deal. I had just spent the last hour of my life, ridiculously I realize, worrying over how to make my unwavering desire to get what I wanted come true, two shots of espresso in my drink of choice, while leaving change enough to get a regular coffee for the walk home. I know I know, I could have sucked it up and gotten a plain coffee or no extra shots of espresso and it would have had plenty... The point is that I had a desire, a small insignificant and rather superfluous in the scheme of life, and yet there was God knowing how much I wanted that extra shot. How much it would mean to me. Simple, I know... But that’s what makes it so amazing. There I was, about to settle for one and He chose to simply bless me, to show his love for me and to give me that little desire regardless of how insignificant it might seem to most. I guess it just reminded me of how deep His love is.

I’ve often heard people say that God delights in giving us the desires of our hearts, but my mind usually goes to things like marriage, a house, a new car or a dependable job. You know the “big” things in life. However, that extra shot helped me realize He saw my desire, in all its simplicity, and delighted in giving to me just as much as anything else... Well, maybe not just as much, but a whole lot :)

I hope that as you go through this next week, month, year, you begin to notice the little things God is giving you, and that you are overwhelmed with a revelation of His love for you as I was. Trust me, it moves your day from ordinary to extraordinary in no time :)
Alright friends, this story wouldn’t be complete without a picture..

So, here it is. Tall, tan and beautiful....

Sunset sharing

Aloha friends! I wanted to share a sunset with your and give you a few updates on my life these days so here's a 6ish min video for ya :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=upucrikK2Dc

Apoligies in advance, the vid's a bit dark, guess that means you can enjoy the background more ;)

Mike, or Michael

Ok, warning, this post is a bit long... but it’s about a night that is too cool not to share ( I started writing about it a few weeks ago then fell victim to business and forgot to finish it, until tonight... )


Rain. Beautifully soothing rain drops fall gently outside my window as I type this. Rain has become a common happening during our school. I keep hearing people say “it never rains this much!” and yet it seems that God is fit to bless us with rain. Each day He comes, moving in undeniably real ways the rain follows. It comes as a marker, at the end of the day, a seal over our experiences and renewed awareness of His being. I didn’t think it was possible to love rain more than I already did, but then again I didn’t think I would ever be going to China either...




Yesterday was Tuesday, and each Tuesday evening, after dinner, we come together with our students for something called Community Outreach, a euphemism for what is more commonly labeled “Evangelism Night” (atleast during my DTS years ago). As one may imagine, this night is not always met with the most welcoming of receptions. Something about the idea of “evangelism” sends our insides into a tizzy and stirs up all kinds of awkward.


So, tonight as the students began to fill into the pavilion around 6:30 it did not take long to notice morale was low, very low. Whatever it was, we all felt it. As I looked around the room it was disheartening to notice these heavy feelings seeming to blanket everyone, almost as if a dark cloud settled over the room sprinkling feelings of despondency on top of each one of us. Perhaps the most challenging part was that in about thirty minutes we would be leaving campus to enter the community hoping to pray for those in need and share the message of Christ; a message that proclaims freedom, and promises the exact opposite of what was being conveyed in that room.
A couple of the guys began to play music and Kat, one of our female staff leaders, stepped to the microphone and voiced what we were all feeling, “Something is not right.” She said this heaviness, this oppression, could only be explained as a resistance to what was awaiting us on the other side. A weak attempt to discourage us from entering the community and being a part of impacting the lives of God’s dear ones; those he cares desperately about and longed to embellish his love upon through us.


Once she finished we all broke into groups of two to four, and after a few minutes of seeking the Lord in prayer Lauren, one of the girls I get to meet with weekly, and I set out. As we walked we discussed whether or not we believed God was speaking anything specific to us about who we were to encounter. I mumbled something about the word “hemlock” and seeing the picture of some odd V shaped thing. I had no idea what either meant, if anything, but I figured I’d throw them out there anyway because really, what did I have to lose? Lauren replied with, “I got Mike, or Michael, but I’m not sure if that’s from the Lord or my own mind.” We decided regardless of whether or not these things meant anything we would try to be an encouragement to people we talked to.


One of the first people we came upon was Joleen, a woman who worked at McDonalds up the road from our campus. She was on her thirty-minute break so we decided to take a few of those minutes to thank her hard work, and for serving us (at times campus food is a not the most appetizing so us YWAMers have been known to frequent the Mickey D’s). After that we kept walking along the road, ocean on our left, shops on our right. We were about ready to cross over to busier side, but for whatever reason we stayed on our current side for another block. As we walked I noticed this guy, who looked to be in his twenties, coming towards us with a small book in his hands. It was completely dark by this time so he had the book raised up towards his face, catching the light from the street lamps. I love books so my curiosity was sparked instantly. I had to find out what he was reading. I mean come on, it to be good if he was willing to read it not just while walking, but in the darkness on the narrowest park of the road moving towards oncoming traffic. He lifted his head to my inquiry and met our eyes with one of the happiest smiles I’ve ever seen. “Tao Te Ching. My favorite. I’ve been reading it over and again for the past three years.” He was a bit surprised to learn neither Lauren nor I had read it. We asked him to share his favorite page with us, talked a bit about what he was in Kona for, what we were in Kona for and a some other random things, then Lauren mentioned something about my Birthday being the next day and he stretched out his arm, book in hand, “Here you go, an early Birthday gift.” His favorite book. A companion that had traveled alongside him for the last three years, and now he was handing it over to someone he’d known for barely ten minutes. Wow. People have a hard enough time giving things away to people they know, nonetheless someone they’ve just met.


After talking for a while longer I realized we’d never asked his name, or told him ours. So we introduced ourselves and asked his name, “Mike, or Michael.” Lauren gasped out loud and covered her mouth with surprise. He introduced himself the exact way she had shared as we were discussing whether or not we felt God laying things or people on our hearts that night. Her words, “I got Mike or Michael, but I’m not sure I’m making it up or it’s from God.”Pretty safe to say that one was from God. So much for my hemlock and weird V thing... Haha, I wish I could have seen how big our smiles were because I’m convinced our faces were just barely wide enough to contain them.


We hung out with Mike, or Michael ;), for a bit longer that night hitting up some Mcdonald’s with a few other YWAM students. So, as if the “Mike, or Michael thing wasn’s enough as I stood in line Lauren, who had been in the bathroom, flies over to me and asks if I had lotion on. It caught me a bit off guard. I assured her that no, I didn’t have any lotion on, or makeup since I was coming off a make-up fast, then asked her why. “You have gold dust all over your arms and chest!” I knew she wasn’t kidding because her face was beaming uncontrollably, and then she showed me her own glittering arms. It was the craziest thing! Both of us had shimmering gold dust all over our upper bodies, and mine was on my shoulders and even under the straps of my tank top. Insane. After a bit of a giggle fest we tried to compose ourselves by getting food. We had a round of sundaes, shakes and fries and great conversations with our new friend about what the Discipleship Training School is and the power of being a part of something bigger than yourself. It was so relaxed and free. Mike told us that after having lived on the island two years this conversation was the first of its kind, and we were the first group he had ever felt so comfortable around. God touched us that night.


Something else that I didn’t realize, until later, was the significance of the book he gave me. I was trying to learn a bit about it and here’s what I found... I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but here I go using Wikipedia as a reference (Massive no no as and English Major, but I’m doing it... judge me all you want;),


“The Tao Te Ching is fundamental to the Philosophical Taoism and strongly influenced other schools, such as Legalism and Neo-Confucianism. This ancient book is also central in Chinese religion, not only for Religious Taoism but Chinese Buddhism, which when first introduced into China was largely interpreted through the use of Taoist words and concepts. Many Chinese artists, including poets, painters, calligraphers, and even gardeners have used the Tao Te Ching as a source of inspiration. Its influence has also spread widely outside East Asia, aided by hundreds of translations into Western languages.”


Not only had he gifted me his favorite book, but he had given me something that carried with it great significance in the Chinese culture, which would be great for someone going to China... Oh wait, I’m going to China! Yea, whoa. Out of ALL the books, he gives me one that holds importance for me for China... :)



So there you have it, a night full of God once again. All the heaviness that plagued the beginning hours of Community Outreach was long gone and those feelings of despondency were washed away with another night of rain. It was a beautiful night, thanks for reading this doozy of post and sharing this experience with me :)

Freedom Rained

Tonight we had an open time of worship. I joined about twenty minutes in, just as the sprinkles of rain started turning to heavier drops. I love rain. I love the feeling of it on my face and arms, and sound each drop makes as they land on the ground, a roof or someone’s windshield. Lately though, I’ve come to love it even more for the symbolism it brings with it. Cleansing and washing away the old. Hope of transformation and new life for each living thing it falls upon.

It took me a few minutes before I let myself step out of the pavilion (our class room with three of the four sides open and exposed to the outdoors) and into the pouring raining. As the rain kissed each cheek I felt this release in my spirit. I felt free to let go of what people were doing around me and and free to liberate the desire to sing and dance unabashedly. I think it important to inform the reader of the fact that my singing and dancing leave much to be desired, atleast by this world’s standards, which makes this an even more exciting.

At dinner a girl, whom I’ve never met, serving in the line tonight stopped me as I passed through and said, “I felt like when I saw you I was supposed to tell you that God enjoys the worship you bring him.” Funny, because I feel quite ridiculous most of the time, especially with each voice crackle and inability to sing in any sort of correct key. I guess that was all I needed to hear and be reminded of and God knew it. That it doesn’t matter how I look or sound. All that matters is the state of my heart and that I respond accordingly. So, hooray for tonight :) I responded accordingly and my soaking clothes bear witness to that.

After this freeing time of worship I stopped by a Kazak friend’s room. Before I even got to the room I could hear the sounds of Arabic music booming through her windows. I ran up the stairs and was greeted with a site that instantly brought me back to my days in Jordan. Shoes lined up outside the door, a table full of food and drinks, and a group of girls dancing with scarves wrapped around their hips. I spent the next hour “dancing,” or trying to do something of that manner, with a combination of people I knew and people I didn’t know. In a circle made up of seven of us, six nations were represented, Egypt, Samoa, Kazakhstan, Korea, Tajikistan and the US, and I loved every minute of it. At times I feel more at home among foreigners than I do other Americans. This was very well one of those times. No one minded if I could dance well or not, we just enjoyed the music and having that time together. We American's need more of this kind of thing in our lives....


**** I found the above picture online, and it is befittingly called “Blooming in the rain." I enjoy it quite a lot.

Born In The Summer Of My 27th Year

About four years about I started a birthday tradition. That tradition is to find a song with my new age in it, which would therefore become my song for the next year. Since the songs didn’t have to be realistic, or applicable to my life, the only real requirement was that somewhere in the song the lyrics would include the number of my new age. It didn’t even have to be in reference to age. So for example my 23rd year was, unfortunately, Blink 182’s What’s My Age Again, ridiculous I know (it was my first round so I was, at that time, easy contented). The next year Switchfoot stole my headphones, and heart, with the beautiful 24, perfectly packed with plenty of 24s. A year later, and a quarter of the way to a century, Denison Witmer’s solemnly beautiful 24 turned 25 sang me through the year. A momentary sense of concern swept over me the day I turned 26 as darkness began to close in, not over my life, just over the dwindling hours of birthday left in my day. It neared ten o’clock and I didn’t have a 26 song. But the hours of waiting were worthwhile and, thanks to a couple dear friends of mine, I got one of the best birthday gifts ever; a song for my birthday. A song for me turning 26. A song made, and written, specifically so that I would have a song for that year :) It still blows my mind and warms my heart each time I listen to it.

Last Wednesday another birthday found me, and I welcomed the lovely number 27 into my daily life. Again I wondered, “What song will it be this year?” A special friend and mentor in my life, Dee Dee Lund, without even knowing about my little tradition, brought me the answer. John Denver’s Rocky Mountain High. Sounds funny, I know. I have to admit I don’t know I have ever listened to an entire John Denver song, or maybe I have, I just didn’t know it was him at the time. But yesterday, on a quiet Saturday night I sat down at the table in my room, next to an open window, plugged in my headphones and let John share that piece of his heart with me. The first line flew through my ears and landed on my lips as a smiled spread, “Born in the summer of his 27th year.” Me too! Then came the lines, “Comin’ home to a place he’d never been before/ He left yesterday behind him, you might say he was born again/ You might say he found a key for every door...” Those doggone lyrics got me a thinkin about the current staytus of my life...

Even though I may be in Hawaii with the ocean, instead of Colorado with the mountains I couldn’t help but identify with this song. I have committed to being here for the next two years which means that with each meal, conversation and walk along the ocean Kona gradually becomes more home to me. I have entered a new stage of my life, or as they say in YWAM, “a new season.” Each day I take one more step away out of yesterday and into today. Each day my world is being shaken and new revelations God, his magnitude and overwhelming greatness, begin to emerge. I can hardly fathom or process it all. I told my sister today that God is shaking and breaking me, all for the better of course... I hope each day a little bit of the girl that got off that plane from Minnesota over a month and a half ago falls away, and a bit more of the lady God longs to see take her place begins to break out. It won’t be easy, I realize. Surrender never is. But He is bringing me further from the point where I care what it looks like, and closer to the place that makes it all the more worth embracing. Something big is on the horizon. I feel it and see flashes of it each week. Aslan is on the move :) and I want to be a part of it, whatever that means.

As I head into this next week I understand what he means when Denver says, "You could say he was born again. I can't help but have this sense that new pieces of me are being brought to life. I don' t know what they are just yet, but I feel them coming. And while I may not have the “key for every door," but I feel pretty confident in the Key I do have, the door it opens and the One who holds it.

Thanks for joining me in my Rocky Mountain ramblings. Enjoy this second week of August and I hope atleast one of the days involves a popsicle or s’mores, or a popsicle s’more (if you try that please send pictures my way)

China.

Pretty much the last place I’ve ever wanted to go in my life, and the first place I rejected as an outreach location when I got here to Hawaii. People often say that God has a sense of humor. I can’t help but wonder if he chuckles each time the words, “I will never ...” leave our mouths, and if he sits there with a smile, thinking to himself, “If they only knew...“ And, if that is the case then there is a high likelihood he spent the last two years in a constant chuckle over how many times I said “I never” with regard to wanting to go to China.

Well friends, I’m sure it will come as no surprise that in two months I will in fact be going to, you guessed it, China. My co-leader and I joke about how we didn’t pick China, it picked us. It is humorous actually, the way God words in the midst of our stubbornness. I think it’s safe to say that last week I experience the worst and best day of my life. Thankfully they happened in that order. Wednesday felt like I was trapped in the body of a five year old with feelings I could not shake. I experienced frustration so strong I was convinced the release of words from my mouth would not only summon tears but unshackle a temper tantrum in the process. A tantrum I knew did not belong in my day, and later realized was rooted in pride and selfishness, rather than some great injustice or crime against humanity. Basically, as is the case with most tantrums, it was anything but “justifiable.”

The next day, barely twenty four hours later, I was on the complete other side of the spectrum. I felt a deep freedom beyond anything I had ever experienced prior to that point. My eyes felt brighter and my shoulders lighter. I’m not sure anyone else noticed, but I did. Joy. Inescapable joy. Joy brought on by a God initiated heart change towards the point where I can’t see myself going anywhere else but China now. My feelings of frustration came from a lonely place. A place where I had myself convinced I was alone, on the outside and disconnected. It didn’t take long for me to see the hole in that mentality and the lie that I let myself fall victim to.

I asked God to give me a heart for China, to give me new eyes to see the people there
how he sees them and to help me fathom how he is letting me be part of his vision for that country. He is definitely at work on the first two and the third will follow along soon. I have an amazing group of nine students and a solid co-leader I get the privilege of traveling to China with. Last Friday was our first team meeting, and as I sat there, looking from student to student, listening to each share the story of why they felt led to China, an overwhelming sense of unworthiness swept over me. With my stubbornness and attitude that week I was anything but deserving of sitting in that passionate group, let alone leading them, and yet God in his infinite love and mercy had chosen me. In the end it wasn’t really China that picked me, it was God, and now looking back I am more than okay with it.

I don’t know very much about China. But I do know there is no other place I am supposed to be going, and no other team for me to be a part of.

Here are a few pics of the group from our team lunch yesterday :) God has his hand of these guys and gals. Can’t wait to get to China with them!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Team China Woo!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God’s Finger in "Mystery Fun Night"

Wow. Where to even begin... Well, each week, on Monday, our DTS group does something called “Mystery Fun Night.” There isn’t really a structure for it other something mysteriously fun. It can be anything from a scavenger hunt, to a thumb wrestling tournament, to an outbreak of healings and gold dust appearing out of thin air. Wait a minute.... Yep, you read that right. Healings and gold dust. Ok, let me back up for a minute.


Ever since arrival day, just over two weeks ago, the students have been beyond anxious to know the locations for the outreach phase following this three month lecture phase. Some of the staff decided this first “Mystery Fun Night” would be a good way to do that. So, instead of just making some jazzed up announcement we watched the movie, “The Finger of God.” Whoa. I had never seen it or even heard of it before so I had no idea what I was in for...


Set up as a documentary this film is the story of a somewhat skeptic believer on a journey around the world in search of the supernatural things God was doing. The things he had heard rumors of, but never witnessed. I have to be honest, as I watched I felt a bit of skepticism myself. Jewels falling from nowhere during church services, gold dust appearing randomly on people, manna in the pages of someone’s Bible and on and on. It’s not that I didn’t believe God could do that, I guess I just couldn’t understand why. But then again, why would people lie about something like that, something that reaped no apparent physical or personal gain. I just don’t know...


As the movie began to wrap up I, and I’m sure others, glanced around the room trying to gage where others were at in response to it all. I was worried that some might be intimidated and even a bit turned off by it all. Then, just as our leader, Andrew, was about to move into announcing the outreach locations it happened. As Andrew approached the stage a small group had started to form around one of our students, Chris. Once on stage it was clear that announcing those locations just didn’t seem too important anymore. I made my way over to the crowd, and as the wall of people broke open my eyes met Chris’s. He stood there, in the middle of fellow students and staff, tears falling and arms outstretched glistening with gold dust. Speechlessness was inevitable. Awe and reverence are inconceivable understatements. “Glory,” the only word that comes close at all to explaining the overwhelming sense that swept over me, and then only if repeated multiple times on end from here on into eternity.


We spent the next hour prayer for each other and sharing in the joy as God moved among our students healing many of them of things like asthma, back and shoulder problems and scoliosis. I watched as one of the girls I meet one on one with weekly was healed from her knee problems; problems attributed to a half inch length difference between legs and something she was unaware until she saw her right foot grow that missing half inch. I was there friends. I saw it with my own eyes. God is real. God is very much alive, despite what some may think. And He is on the move. How will you receive him?


It is undeniable. God touched our group that night. He made his presence known and left us marked with the inescapably glorious imprint of his finger on our lives. I’m glad it was just a finger. I’m not sure I could have handled more ... :)

Low Enough To Notice

So, a couple weeks ago a few of us staff were at a place called Queen’s bath (as beautiful as it sounds), filming our scene for the AWAKEN DTS staff video -not quite finished yet, but a link will be up when it is:). It was a pretty nice day, a little cloudy, which I’m learning is an afternoon trend around here, but it was still enjoyable. As I was waiting to shoot my part I sat down in the sand and began to look around me, trying to take it all in; from the gentle waves to the salty breeze stopping momentarily to kiss my face before moving on to mangle my hair. My gaze began at eye level, and moved across the horizon startling with the massive cruise ship in the distance, somehow managing to float, and on to the vacation rentals cradling the shore behind me. How far from the anything in Minnesota it all was. Slowly my eyes moved down over the lava rock, tide pools and children in floaties excitedly embarking on their own adventures; screams and all. Eventually my gaze drifted down to my wrinkled pants, dirty feet and the sand around me. The sand around me. Something about it drew me in closer, and as I leaned over, low enough for my nose to nearly touch it, I saw that it wasn’t just sand but tiny shells mixed amidst the sand pebbles. I sat up slowly, raised my sand covered hands closer and began to slowly sift my fingers through the little treasures. It was incredible. Shells of varying colors and patterns, shapes and petite sizes.

I’m not sure if these pictures will show it well enough, but it blew my mind that there could be shells a small as a grain of sand. And that in those miniature shells was, or had been, tiny creatures. Creatures that I, the average person, rarely sees or even notices, and would probably need a microscope to truly see. It boggles my mind! What in the world was God thinking? Our God, a God who in all his power parts seas, calms oceans, creates the Grand Canyon and hand crafted you and I, took time in the midst of all everything to dream up these barely noticeable little creations. Why?

Most people would most likely reply, “It’s for His glory” and “because He can.” I think there’s more to it than just that. I’m not sure what exactly that “more” is, but I wonder if He did it so show His gentleness. Those tiny tiny shells He made a part of this world. Those little creatures He cared enough about to bring to life, knowing full well that a majority of his creatures would never take note. He didn’t do it for us, but he did it. Or maybe He did do it for us. Maybe He did it knowing that one day someone like me would walk on that beach, sit down and take notice. And that while taking notice that person would feel like they had unearthed a small portion of the infamous lost treasure of the sea. A treasure dreamed about. A treasure few get to see. A treasure few get to hold in the palm of their hands.

As I walked off the beach that day and packed into the van with the others I couldn’t help wondering about other things in this world that are like those shells. Treasures constantly being overlooked. Unlikely places waiting to be discovered, appreciated, enjoyed. A person waiting to be noticed, conversed with and validated for who they are as they are. Maybe it’s as simple as starting up a new conversation or as adventurous as trying new food but I can’t help but think there is so much out there out there waiting for us find it. Too many treasures waiting to be found. I going to dig up my treasure map, how about you? :)

How did I get here?

Heyo!

I wanted to give more of an explanation of how this Hawaii thing came about so if you are interested check out this vid. It's a little over 5 min long...

(It was a bit too bit to upload directly but youtube hooked me up :)


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ktDhKlkFyY4

Oh, title of mine

Four weeks ago I made the decision to join YWAM as staff. Two weeks ago I packed up my life into two suitcases (well, two suitcases and a 45 lb carry on), got on a plane and came to Kailua-Kona, Hawaii. One week ago I signed a paper committing the next two years of my life to an organization and vision I believe in, and have long desired to be a part of. Seventeen minutes ago I began writing my first blog. Thanks for being a part of it with me :)

As an English major and human being branded with an irreversible love for books I know the significance of properly chosen words. So how do I, a newborn in this world of social networking, choose a title for my blog that explains my life in its present form, while identifying the unwavering influences around me? I take two things I love, music and words, combine them, and then proceed to break them apart. Some call it parsing, but for now I will call it a harmonious union :). I took key words from the titles of two of my favorite songs, Anberlin’s Dismantle.Repair., and Yann Tierson’s Mother’s Journey. Powerful words on their own “dismantle” and “journey” become something indescribable to me when married together. The definition of these two words, according to mirriamwebster.com (yea online dictionary!), is:

Dismantle: 1 : to take to pieces; also : to destroy the integrity or functioning of
2 : to strip of dress or covering

Journey: 1 : an act or instance of traveling from one place to another
2 chiefly dialect : a day's travel
3 : something suggesting travel or passage from one place to another

When I look at my life in relation to these next two years with YWAM I want it to be a time where I am taken to pieces. A time where God is given full reign in my life and regains all control by stripping me free of the “coverings” I have accumulated over these past years; the false confidences and idols I have put my trust in over Him. It will be a journey literally and figuratively as I attempt to make passage from one place in my spiritual walk to another, hopefully of novel depth, in addition to walking through the phases of a Discipleship Training School from stateside lectures to overseas encounters. Something else I find special joy in the idea of being able to replace “Journey” in the title with my name, or yours for that matter. I am continuously moving through life, sometimes forwards, sometimes back. I am on a journey. I am a Journey. A work in progress. I like to think we all are. But rarely do we stop long enough to examine, break down and really look at where we came from or where it is we are going...

I want this blog to be an attempt of that sort, and hope to update it once a week capturing my journey as truthfully and openly as I can, presenting to this world, to you and to me, A Journey Dismantled, A Erica Taken To Pieces.

*A minor disclaimer. There will be typos and grammatical errors in the days ahead (mainly comma splices- never could figure those little guys out in college). But just as there are bumps and pot holes on the road of life I hope these little errors will remind us of the imperfections we as fallen human beings each have. Thankfully we have Jesus to redeem us, and the MLA format to fix my linguistical mistakes... :)