Missions, Ministry, and the Importance of Serving Jesus Where You Are Right Now.

Recently, a friend asked me to write a bit and share about how serving the Lord in international mission work had led me to seek to serve locally.  How has following God overseas encouraged me to follow him in my hometown?  Since my focus and plans have been shifting over the past few months from overseas mission work to ministry here in the United States, it was a welcome chance to reflect and see the journey that the Lord has been walking with me.  Here is what I shared with her:

      It was January of ’06 when I knew that God had placed a call to ministry on my life.  I may have only been a high school student at the time with no knowledge of what a career in missions would look like, but I resolved to be obedient to the Lord.  Almost a decade later I am still discerning the call and walking in the Spirit daily to the best of my ability.  In the years between high school and present day, I have explored many avenues of missions and ministry, both locally and abroad.

         My undergraduate and graduate degrees focused on studying the Word, learning about missions strategies and developing intercultural communication skills.  I took weeklong trips to Guatemala and Germany during college, then after graduation I headed out on an 11-month journey touching base in 11 countries.  When I came home I spent 6 months serving the youth group at my home church, then took off again for more studies in Illinois and a summer stint in Peru. 

            International travel and missionary work have been woven into the most recent years of my life in significant ways.  As I reflect on the work that my teammates and I did internationally, I realize that those experiences have helped me to better understand and recognize the beauty of God and His purposes for His people, as well as equipped me to serve my home community and church more effectively.  In Kenya we prayed for the sick, preached the Word, visited the lonely, invited neighbors to church, shared the gospel, laughed with children, danced with worshippers, and followed Jesus wherever he led us.  Today, as I live in the little town of Statesville, North Carolina, I still gather with fellow believers to pray for the sick.  Each Sunday we come together to hear the Word preached.  I enjoy visiting and spending time with new friends and inviting my neighbors to church.  There are still opportunities to share the gospel and laugh with children each week in Good News Club at the local elementary school.  As far as dancing goes…well, I attend a Southern Baptist church, but I do occasionally attempt a nice sway/rocking motion with a lifted hand or two (And you better believe I have some good dancing worship in my car when I’m riding solo!) 

            There were several countries where I had the opportunity to meet with some amazing women, both young and old, and remind them of their value and beauty in the sight of God (the only One whose opinion truly matters).  At home, I have the same opportunities to encourage ladies and show them that their true worth and identity comes from Christ.

            Traveling internationally is always an adventure.  There are new sights, smells, sounds and surprises around every corner.  People may not look like you, speak the same language or have the same customs and cultures.  Everything from food preparation to the method of doing laundry could be completely foreign to the mindset you’ve always known.  Church services may vary in length and style; worship and prayer may be expressed in new ways.  Still, one thing remains the same – God’s glory and his love for his people.

            Spending time abroad has enriched my view of God by opening my eyes to the beauty and diversity among the nations and cultures, along with the unity found in the Christian Church as a whole.  I have followed Jesus down the dirt roads of Rwanda and it has given me confidence to follow Him down the paved roads of neighborhoods in my hometown.  The Spirit encouraged me to sing and dance in worship with international believers and now I look forward to praying and worshipping with my fellow church members here at home.

            Until very recently, I viewed my call as a missionary as a very rigid course that would most likely result in living overseas long-term.  As I treasure my past international experiences and plan to continue to learn about culture and communication, I find that I am no longer choosing to define myself as a “missionary,” but rather how the Father sees me as “beloved daughter of God.”  If the Lord leads me to the other side of the world or to a small town in the States, I want to be faithful to serve Him.  People are people, regardless of where they live, their age, color or social status.  And all people have a great need for Jesus.  If we know Him it is our mission to introduce Him to everyone we meet, no matter our geographic location.

Forward is a Pace

Note: I wrote this back in July and maybe I didn't post it because of the pictures taking so long to load, or the fact that I've dropped the ball on the whole running thing lately.  I don't really remember, but it's written, so I'll put it out there and hopefully there will be more blogs to come.  People keep asking me about writing, so I'll take that as affirmation to pick up the ol' keyboard once again...

At the start line of the Nashville Country Music Marathon!

A few months ago I completed my first marathon.  All 26.2 miles.  The weather was hotter, the hills steeper and the pace slower than what I had hoped for, but I finished.  It seems that the insanity of training through the winter months in Wheaton, IL, complete with ice, snow and extremely cold running weather wasn't enough, but I had to register for a race in hilly, humid Nashville at the end of April.  My training runs were flat and chilly, the race was hot and hilly! That's probably the reason that I laughed out loud when I read one of the spectator's signs along the 26.2 mile course: "It seemed like a good idea four months ago!"

Four months and over 400 miles later and I was headed through the streets of Nashville looking for the finish line.  There were several other funny signs, some super sketchy ones and many encouraging phrases too.  But there was one white poster-board with words that touched me to the core and provided the motivation that I needed.  It simply read: "Forward is a pace."

This was good news to me since I had been on track for the first 13.1 miles, but met my match on a huge hill in mile 15.  It was discouraging to know that my time goal wouldn't be met and I had been a bit frustrated at having to take some walk breaks.  I kept telling myself from then on, "Forward is a pace."  It also helped that I had friends and family cheering me on at different points of the race.  I gave my dad a high five around 20 miles and the last 6.2 were the longest of my life.

My partner in crime and running buddy, Kristen.  Thankful for her positivity during all those long winter runs!

More of the support team.  Thankful for my parents spending all day out on the course.

My beautiful friends, Blair and Heather, that joined in the 5k race and then cheered me on!

After running, I came home to two more weeks of grad school and adopted "Forward is a pace" as my new mantra.  Any progress, no matter how small, was better than nothing!  Now, as I have moved away and begun to settle back into North Carolina life I need to remember the saying and keep pushing forward in search of what the Lord has in store for me here.

There were several runners that passed me that day in Nashville, and there were many that I ran around as well.  It was no fun to be left in the dust, and though sometimes I celebrated a little for passing another person, that wasn't usually the case.  When I focused on those ahead of me I felt like a failure.  Why couldn't I keep up?  When I focused on those behind I puffed up with pride.  Who am I to judge them?  We're all runners and we all run our own pace.

When I think about where I'm at in this stage of life I don't want to run at another's pace.  It is easy to look to friends who have established careers or entered into serious relationships and wonder why they seem to be "ahead".  No good can come from looking back at others who have made different choices or come under tough circumstances and seem to be lagging behind either.

So, while I'm still trying to think and pray through the next step, I know that this may be a time to take a walk break and gear up for the next bit of running to come.  I want to continue moving forward, stay the course and remember to run at my pace as I seek to finish well for His glory.

Marathon finished.  Posing with my medal!

The End of an Era

Hey there.  It's been awhile.  My last post was one month into grad school (Feb. 2013).  I was in a new place and still extremely motivated as a student.  However, since that time I have read many textbooks and written many pages of papers, so the blog kind of fell along the wayside.  Now, 18 months after the journey of Wheaton College Graduate School began, I find myself back at home in North Carolina sipping sweet tea, dodging gigantic June bugs and trying to survive the humidity in July.  What an adventure this past year and a half has been!

Last Sunday, as my parents and a couple of friends were helping to pack up all of my belongings, one of my best friends (in the Wheaton context) and I took a break to grab some ice cream.  We chatted a little bit about our time at school and about future plans.  She said something about it being "the end of an era," to which I responded that I thought an era was supposed to be an extended, you know, really long time.  After I thought about it, I agreed that we could call our 18 months an era.  That just sounds so epic :)

When I think back to the beginning, I remember the first few weeks at Wheaton when I would spend time reading for class (so many books!), watching the Harry Potter movies and sometimes going to the grocery store just to have some human interaction.  Those lonely days didn't last long as I began to meet people and form deeper relationships.  Soon I went from having too much time to not enough as social activities, ministry opportunities and the school workload increased.

It may have only been 18 months, but what a bunch of living my friends and I did during that time!  There were so many memorable late night conversations, rambunctious game nights, Spirit-filled worship and prayer times, amazing international potlucks, bouts of hilarious laughter, birthday celebrations, Sunday night home-cooked meals, Downton Abbey viewings, ice cream runs, movie nights and much, much more.

There were also times of sorrow and grief when the only thing we could do was sit with each other and just be.  There were times of frustration and feelings of inadequacy, bouts of depression and sadness, periods of worry for the future.  All of these crazy ups and downs allowed me to see the beautiful community that Christ had surrounded me with in Wheaton.  My classmates, professors, bosses and friends felt like family as they spoke truth into my life and continually affirmed the woman God had created me to be.

On May 10, I walked across a stage in a funny hat and Wheaton College Graduate School named me a Master.  It felt good to have the hard work recognized, but it was even better to go through the doors and meet up with friends and family for pictures and fellowship.  The celebration and community afterward was so much sweeter than hearing my name called and receiving an awkward hood (which I returned the next day).

I haven't fully processed all that I have learned or the many ways I've grown over the past months, but I know that I am not the same as when I left.  (Sidenote: There may be a new series coming called "Stuff I learned at Grad School") Many people have asked me if it's "good to be home?" and I can't seem to find the right response.  While I love my family and friends and the great state of North Carolina, the word itself - home - has a new meaning.  Wheaton was my home.  I planted myself there and dug my roots in deep, seeking to love people deeply, and study diligently for the Lord.  Though the winter was absolutely insane, I loved the little suburb of Chicago and everyone in it.

When I walked out of my apartment for the last time, the place where I had called home and shared so much joy and laughter with those closest to me, I sensed that it really was the end of a great era and I thanked God for giving me such freedom and life there.  As I said goodbye to two of my best friends and began to drive away, it was quite a difficult thing to do.  The tears came and at first I was a bit embarrassed, but then I realized how God had done exceedingly, abundantly above what I had hoped or expected for that season of my life and knew it was hard to leave because it had been so wonderful.

As I got to the hotel where we'd stay before heading out early the next morning, I received two text messages from close friends in NC.  They were praying for safe travels and were excited to meet up for lunch soon.  My eyes began to water again.  It was as if the Lord was saying, "You are not alone.  There are those who love you here in Wheaton, and there in North Carolina.  I will not abandon you, and neither will your friends."  What a crazy intimate God that watches over us and meets our every need.  He continues to amaze me and I know He has a plan (though I have yet to see it) for the coming months and years.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm thankful for the time I had and the friendships I formed at Wheaton.  I'm also excited to be on the edge of a new and exciting era to come.

Wonder amidst the weariness...

It's 11:11pm Wheaton time and I'm still unwinding after being in class from 2pm to almost 10pm with a short dinner break in between.  Thursdays are long, but enjoyable.  On my walk from the classroom to the student center for dinner (grad student discount!! whoo!) I was met with the frigid air that bit my nose and slippery sidewalk that threatened my balance because my shoes were now unsuitable for the elements.  Amidst all this, as I looked up I saw the beauty before me.  The snow was falling ever so gracefully from heaven as I walked out into the open space.  The lights were glowing across campus through the fogginess of tiny snowflakes and even though I was freezing I couldn't help but smile.  This is so sweet.  I'm glad to be able to experience this crazy weather.  I've seen snow before, and this was no blizzard, but I felt a new peace and wonder at the sight of it.

Dinner was a great time of laughter and discussion as the group talked of topics ranging from living overseas to auditioning for musicals.  I slipped out early to head back to the classroom and prepare as it was my group's night to lead in worship and bring snacks.  Yep, that's right.  Grad school is where it's at people...prayer and worship in class, then breaks for banana nut muffins (yea, I made them from scratch all by myself...but who's bragging?  They were good too!).  During class there was time for lots of great discussion and reflection and I got to hear more personal stories from my classmates.

After class a few people hopped in my car for a ride home and we were able to bond over a bizarre experience...the windshield was frozen from the INSIDE.  How do people really live up here?  I realized had I been alone this would not have been nearly as funny or enjoyable.  It was quite hilarious to figure out a solution to our dilemma.

I finally made it home to find my Welcome mat covered in snow.  The apartment was warm and inviting (although cluttered from a previously long night of reading and writing).  I talked to my mom for a while, realizing she must really love me to stay awake this late to chat.  Then I just sat here smiling as I reflected on the day's events.  The Lord is so faithful.  He cares about us and desires to bless us.  I love that I'm in a place where academics are second to really understanding and experiencing God in a way that enriches my own life and encourages others.  I was just reading (early this morning) about God's election of Israel and how it was never seen as a reward for anything they'd earned.  Likewise, our relationship with Christ is not based on our righteousness, but on the faithfulness and promises of God.  He sees us as valuable, sons and daughters whom he created in his image and for his purposes...to join in a mission to bring a lost and dying world back to himself.  Wow.

Let me rewind a bit.  I think it's important that you know some of what happened yesterday and even earlier today.  It has been a rough week for me.  I've felt behind all week and sometimes I'm just tired of all the reading.  My eyes are crossing when I sit for hours and dig into the texts.  By the time Friday rolls around I'm ready to be a vegetable and not read anything at all.

So yesterday I realize that I only have about 70 of 373 pages read for a book review that's due the next day (today).  I've got other readings on top of that and I have to practice guitar as well as bake some muffins.  Seems like a long lineup.  I planned to wake up early and get started, maybe even go to the gym.  Turns out I overslept until 10am or so (my sleep schedule has been so weird with staying up late and sleeping in...can't seem to fix it!).  Because of the lazy start I was already frustrated with myself.  I was just so restless with everything.  I keep hearing about this awesome community at Wheaton and I haven't found it yet.  Sure, it's only been a few weeks, but what's wrong with me?  Why do I sit in my apartment and read textbooks, cook for one (the "meals-for-one" sign on the freezer aisle in the grocery store is super depressing, by the way.  And I'm sure all the Lean Cuisine's are filled with sodium anyway.  I digress...) and watch movies by myself?  I'm dying of restlessness and hungering for a fit, a routine or comfortable pattern of people and friends.

Come 12:45pm and I'm off to Intercultural Studies Forum, a biweekly meeting of the whole department.  We're doing a reflective exercise today and are asked to walk amongst lots of pictures, eventually choosing one that describes us and our place now, our relationship with the Lord.  Just that morning I was praying in frustration for the Lord to show his love for me in a specific way.  I knew the reflection was needed, if not wanted.  Wandering through the pictures of sunrises, mountains, kites, homeless people, planes, monkeys, you name it...I passed one several times and knew it was for me but I couldn't bring myself to pick it up.  

I'll include it below so you can see why...it's a photo of a cat, wearing a sweater and playing the piano.  Exactly.  You just busted out laughing in your seat.  It screams AWKWARD!  Am I right?  It was awkward to even choose, much less describe.  But it stuck out to me.  This time feels awkward and restless.  I mean, if you were a cat wearing an itchy sweater and trying to tickle the ivories with your fat, furry paws, how would you feel?  Out of place?  Tired of putting on a fun face for others?  

This speaks for itself.

After writing all of this we were encouraged to share in small groups.  I was in a group with a gracious and sweet professor as well as another new student in the program.  We talked and I had a mini-meltdown.  Where's this great community everyone talks about?  I barely see these people except inside the classroom, then everyone goes their own way.  Only one classmate asked if I had found a church yet.  I knew I was frustrated because of my anxiety of being in a new place by myself.  It's just so foreign to everything I've known before.  I'm realizing now that the Lord wants time with me, to be quiet and work through things, just me and Him.  But sometimes quiet can bring a lot of time to think.  It's so much easier to be busy and distracted than to give time to self-discipline and learning in prayer and the Scripture.  I have a sanctuary here with no distractions or demands.  Yet I'm going crazy looking for things to fill my time.

My group was so gracious in encouraging me and praying over me.  That's what I miss about college, about the Race...there has always been a small group of close friends pouring into me and praying over me.  I love doing life with people, growing in Christ together.  I've seen what the Body of Christ is supposed to look like...  Vulnerability, genuineness, a deep love for one another.  After 11 months in overseas ministry and 6 months of youth ministry I want to be a part of a community that pours into me.  It's time for me to be filled up again before I can pour out anymore.  I'm just tired, restless and hungry. 

 

Amazing teammates who love and support me!

Sistas in Christ who've got my back!

That being said, today was a sweet day.  After getting 5 hours of sleep due to procrastination on a book review and other assignments, I thought the best thing about today would be when I was able to get back in bed.  The Lord had other plans.  He brought sweet conversation in class, reminders of his love from the Word, refreshing laughter and fellowship at the table, and a comic relief at experiencing new weather phenomenon.  Not to mention the beauty of the snowfall.  

Lord, thank You that You know my heart.  You know exactly what I need.  You don't give up on the day even if I do.  You are faithful and true, always.  You redeem and renew me constantly.  Your Spirit never leaves me.  You crack me up at times and I can't help but laugh out loud at Your goodness.  Thank You for today, Lord.  Guide me again tomorrow in Your loving kindness.

He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me." - Psalm 18:19

The Lord gives strength to his people; the Lord blesses his people with peace. - Psalm 29:11 

A Week in Wheaton.

Blogging on the Race was easy, it just sort of happened.  Before I knew it there were 1 or 2 posts popping up weekly online.  While I was home over the last 6 months I was too comfortable and/or too busy to find time to write.  Since I'm not "home" in NC anymore, maybe the blog should pick back up.  It's a great way to keep connected with those back home and to share what the Lord is doing in my life as I transition to Wheaton.

So, I'm at Wheaton College in Wheaton, IL working toward a Master's Degree in Intercultural Studies. My amazing parents made the drive up with me last Monday and stayed to help set up and organize things in my new apartment.  They headed home last Thursday morning (I can't believe it's been a week!), after leaving me with a comfy couch and bed, plenty of kitchen gadgets from IKEA, food in the cupboard and a nice space heater for the bathroom.

Dad enjoying an IKEA lunch after a long day of shopping

Mom and I testing out the couch (and my winter coat!).

This has been the first week where I can say I've officially lived on my own.  During college I had mostly wonderful (and some insane) roommates.  On the World Race I was in community 24/7, developing lasting friendships with great teammates.  Here in IL, we'll just say it took a bit of adjusting for the first few days to figure out this "living alone" thing.  It's a strange feeling to walk out the door and realize that no one knows where you're going or when you'll be back.  It's also kind of freeing.

On Saturday morning I decided I wanted to go for a run around the block.  It's a nice neighborhood with plenty of sidewalks, cute houses and friendly people.  I pulled up google maps, so as not to get lost  on my first try, and mapped out a course.  It took me a while to figure out what to wear for the 30 degree weather, then I had to find a safe place for my house key so I didn't get locked out.  Finally, I realized I was just stalling because I was a nervous pansy that didn't want to leave the comfort (and heat) of my apartment.  Going out alone can be intimidating.  I finally called Caleb for a pep-talk.  I've done this before with lengthy undergrad assignments or exercising habits.  Our conversations usually go like this:

"Caleb, I need to get out and run but I'm being a bum and don't want to.  Tell me to quit being a pansy and just go do it."

"Hannahclaus, you're a bum.  Get your shoes on and get out there and run right now!  Talk to you later.  Bye."

"I'm on it.  Thanks.  Bye."

I did end up jogging most of two miles in the cold.  After two minutes outside I noticed that I forgot my gloves because I couldn't feel my hands anymore.  Lesson learned; the next time I took gloves and wore more layers on my legs.  At least I'm figuring it out.

Another big step was the grocery store.  I'd probably made 4-5 trips to Target in 2 days for various items, but I was unwilling to venture into unknown territory in the grocery store.  Target is familiar.  I love Target...most of them look the same.  (Sidenote:  Wal-marts here are far inferior to those in North Carolina and I will not be frequenting them unless absolutely necessary.  No supercenters?  No groceries?  Really, Wal-mart?)  There are no friendly neighborhood Food Lions here with familiar cashiers that ask for your MVP card.  I've asked around and there is one of each store: Dominik's, Jewel, and Ultra Foods that are all nearby for grocery shopping.  I chose Ultra and went for it.  My sticky-note list in hand and my cell phone in the other (moms are always available for food/cooking questions no matter how dumb), I took on the aisles.  Surprisingly enough these yankees have grits on the shelves.  Guess I didn't need to pack those...  I spent a good amount of time perusing the aisles and checking out deals on toilet paper and canned tomatoes.  Who knew there were so many types of canned tomatoes?  Anyway, it was a successful trip even after my awkward hesitation when I realized there was no one bagging my groceries and it was my job to do.

After experiencing life in the suburbs for a few days, I was a bit restless and ready for class to begin.  I had been to get my parking pass, student ID and textbooks, but the waiting was a bit boring.  Finally, on Tuesday night I had my first class, along with a forum on Wednesday and class most of today.  Now that I've met some of my classmates and seen their passion for Intercultural Studies it's been encouraging.  However, after looking over the syllabi and anticipating all that this semester's courses bring with it I have to say I'm still a bit overwhelmed and intimidated.

Graduate school?  What am I doing here?  I'm not qualified to be in an esteemed place like Wheaton with faculty who are internationally recognized for their work!  This is insane.  Lord, help, cause this is gonna be tough.  I sat through the first part of each of my new classes with an intense feeling of intimidation.  This is a whole new level.  Still, I find encouragement and hope in knowing that it will get better and become easier as I get into the swing of things.  Bungee jumping over the Nile river was intimidating, but I did it and loved the experience.  Leading a youth group and volunteering with kindergarteners was intimidating, but I did it and loved the experience.  The Lord is showing me that I don't have to be completely brave and comfortable in a new environment.  Getting settled and learning the new culture takes both time and effort; sometimes it can be intimidating.  Intimidation will come, you just have to choose to keep going regardless.

I'm creeping in a purple parka on the left!

I'm so thankful for one of my favorite undergraduate professors, Dr. Qualls.  I had mentioned the possibility of graduate school after the Race, but without much confidence.  She saw my hesitation and added, "You do know you could do it, right?  You're definitely capable."  Even tonight, as the course opened up, my new professor pushed us to learn, write and share.  He said that we should be writing and publishing our work to give to others.  Dr. Qualls also commented on one of my papers that I should have it published.  I thought it was a joke and never got around to tweaking it enough for publication.  Perhaps there's still time...

In a nutshell, the Lord has brought me to Wheaton.  There's no doubt about it...through the prayers, advice, conversations and daydreams, he's affirmed it over and over.  I may feel like I don't know what I'm doing quite yet, but I am certain the He knows what He's doing with me!  I'm looking forward to an enriching 18 months of learning and growing so as to be more equipped to reach the nations with the name of Jesus.  Here's to a new kind of adventure in the academic world!

A few photos of my place in case you don't get a chance to visit.  On the other hand, once you see how comfy it looks you may be making a road trip to stop by!!  This is also proof for my mother that it was clean at one point...we'll see if that keeps up once assignments get busy ;)

Look at the awesome missionary family on the fridge (The Heaths!).

Aslan and a beautiful canvas painted by my sister-in-law.  Thanks, Meg!!

I absolutely LOVE the tree canvas :)

Home-cooked meal with some NC Cheerwine (thanks to the Loves for sending a supply).

Leroy Jethro Gibbs has got my back!  Between him and Aslan I feel super safe :)

Homemade Pop-tarts: Remembering that people are worth our time

Looking at my blog entries on this site is like looking through old journals...sometimes they're few and far between.  At the end of this week I'll have been at my job (Interim Student Minister) for 3 months and the four month mark is coming up from when I came back to America.  A lot has happened over these few months and I didn't really know what to write or when to write it.  Here's a small update about what's been going on, what I've felt and wrestled with along the way and what's to come...

I guess you could say that things are getting "back to normal" now.  Good food, a nice bed and warm shower are taken for granted again.  I have my own car and cell phone, which proves much more convenient than traveling on the Race.  In a spontaneous decision I got my hair chopped off to donate...over 10 inches...and now I put on makeup and fix my hair everyday.  So, you could say that I'm starting to "settle" again in Statesville.

But some days are still unsettled.  There are those times when my mind goes back to sweet Vincent in Kenya and his hilarious dance moves or I find myself wondering about my friends in the bars of Thailand.  I still meet people that think following Jesus around the globe was an insane idea, the experience of a lifetime to be sure...but now it's time for me to calm down and get a real job.  Some days I have such joy because of an encounter with the Lord, other days I find myself literally laying on the floor and asking, "What am I doing with my life?"

With the job that I have there are certainly ups and downs.  Some days are more joyful, others are discouraging.  The world wide web is not the place for those details or emotions, but I will share some wonderful God-sized things that have been going on lately...

I've made it a priority to attend Christian club meetings at the local middle and high schools as well as make it to the cafeteria to eat lunch with some students.  There have been some good connections made as students that I've never met before are starting to have conversations with me.  I was able to speak about my World Race journey at the high school down the street where I graduated in 2007.  Some of the same teachers are still there and there is even an opportunity for me to help with the basketball team this fall.  I am continually amazed at how the Lord opens door after door for new relationships so that I can begin to have conversations about Him.  He did the same thing in Thailand, why wouldn't he do it here?

Another big part of what I've been up to is attending athletic events.  There are lot of students from my church that play football, soccer, volleyball, run cross-country, you name it.  They're all over the county in their athletic endeavors.  I love going to these events in order to support the youth, but it's been a huge blessing to get to know their parents more as we talk in the stands.  Monday I was at a soccer game...those of you who know me know that I don't really care much about the sport and that I'm partial to volleyball...but I went to watch one of my students.  The team did a great job and won the game.  The Lord gave me a good experience in the stands as the other spectators were a lot of fun to talk and joke around with.  I also caught a bit of the varsity match and they dominated the field.  Soccer is more fun than I thought!

Really, the best part about this job has been getting to know the youth.  I know they're awesome, but sometimes they still surprise me.  This morning, after See You at the Pole, one student walked up and handed me something wrapped in a paper towel.  I smiled questioningly and asked what I'd just received.  It was a "homemade pop-tart".  We had spent some time in the cafeteria the previous week talking about classes, homework, sports, movies and pop-tarts.  (Personally, I strongly believe that you should toast your pop-tarts.  They are "toaster pastries" and they "pop" out of the toaster.  Just sayin'...)  This student said that his mom made amazing homemade pop-tarts and I joked about stopping by one morning for breakfast.  The surprise (and wonderfully tasty) breakfast pastry totally made my day.  To see generosity and simple kindness like that from a sixth grader blew me away.  I can't believe that he remembered.

Maybe I was so impressed because I haven't seen that type of kindness much lately.  On the Race it was humbling to be the honored guests everywhere we went and to be the recipient of so much generosity and hospitality.  I was thinking the other day about one of our pastors from the Race and how wonderful it would be if he could come spend time with my family.  Would we be as hospitable as he was?  Would people come to honor him and hear him speak if he was given the opportunity?  Or would they choose to stay at home watching ESPN and arguing about the replacement refs in the NFL?  Why aren't people a priority anymore?

I guess what I'm getting at is this: I wish Americans would be as relational as the rest of the world.  All it takes is a kind word, a simple note or a wave and a smile to brighten someone's day.  Yea, we're willing to briefly speak to someone in the hallway when we see them, but intentionally tracking someone down to have an in-depth conversation and truly see how they're doing is asking too much.

What if we really got involved in the lives of others, not for the purpose of gossip on Facebook, but as a friend, mentor, prayer warrior for them and their faith?  What if we truly took time to grow in the Word so that we could disciple others and set an example for them?  What if when we took "prayer requests" or asked "how's it goin?" we listened to the responses and kept a check on others' progress?

This is a bit of a random entry, mostly because my life feels a little random right about now.  Some days  I forget what I'm doing or where I'm going, but I'm thankful to know Who is with me all the time.  If I can just remember to focus on Him and constantly point others toward Him, I think I'll be alright.

Closing it up with one of my favorite passages on how to live practically and love others:

Love must be sincere.  Hate what is evil: cling to what is good.  Be devoted to one another in brotherly love.  Honor one another above yourselves.  Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord.  Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.  Share with God's people who are in need.  Practice hospitality.

Romans 12:9-13

On a side note: I finally mailed in my application for graduate school today.  It had been pushed to the back burner with all the other activities to be planned and carried out.  Now it's a reality.  In three months I could be moving to a new place, with new people, new responsibilities and new weather (cold!).

Fearing God in Montana's Mountains

My family recently went on vacation to Glacier National Park in Montana... 

David, Doug, Dad, Hannah, Caleb, Mom

We've been home for a week, but I just found a chance to write and I'm taking it!  This was a bit of a different family vacation for the Dagenhart clan.  We usually end up at the beach or local NC mountains.  There've been a few variations through the years...we tried Disney World once (Dad vowed never to go back again) and we navigated our way through Washington DC (some of the oldest members of the family had difficulty with the metro routes).  When I heard that we were going to a national park in the northwest to hike all day long I was a bit curious as to how that would turn out.  I also wished I'd kept up my workouts from the World Race days.

Anyhow, after a quick flight to Atlanta and one to Kalispell, MT, we were renting a car and driving the remaining hours to the park.  For the past year of my life I have traveled many, many miles in many different ways.  My squad flew from continent to continent, crossing several countries and oceans as we went.  I always loved the days when we were able to take a plane instead of spending hours on a train or bus; flying was a luxury.  Last week when I found myself on the 5 hour flight from Atlanta to Montana I was surprised to realize my new nervousness at being in the air.  I couldn't really focus on my book or the Olympics on my mini TV.  I kept glancing out the window at the clouds below and the mountains even farther below.  There was a sense of panic as my mind thought of all the ways the plane could go down, followed by huge frustrations at my childish fears.  What is wrong with me?  I'm a world traveler!  This is ridiculous.

I sat tight and finished the flight in silence.  It felt nice to be on the ground.  Shaking off the weirdness of my new phobia, I got in the car as we headed for a grocery store (the closest one for many miles!) and then on to our cabin.  It was one of those nice places out in the middle of nowhere with a sweet view of trees, countryside and wildlife.  The TV didn't work (kind of a bummer to miss the olympics), there was no internet access and barely any cell reception.  It was nice not to have the pressure or temptation of technology.

My cell phone did serve one important purpose...the alarm clock.  Each day we got a fairly early start out to the park and onto the mountain trails.  We all had our hiking boots, backpacks, bear spray (there were Grizzlies and Black bears roaming!), along with our water bottles and trail mix.  Most of the trails were nice and moderate in difficulty.  Toward the middle of the week we enjoyed a few hours on the river as we floated down in a raft.  Class II and III rapids look much less intimidating after the Nile, but the water was refreshingly cold.

Goofing off while waiting to get started.

After rafting (a break from walking so much) I promised my brother David I'd hike on whatever trail he wanted.  He's the adventurer, the planner of the family.  He'd been to Glacier before and knew the best things to see and do.  The next day we were preparing for a 10.3 mile hike.  We drove to the end, parked and rode a shuttle to the starting point.  What started out as a nice, shady hike moved out into the open with lots of wild flowers and a great view of the surrounding mountains.  As we kept going, David pointed out the mountain ahead.  "We're going over that one." 

My reaction (internally of course):  It looks a little steep but if everyone else can do it, I certainly can.  

We kept hiking and reached the incline.  There were lots of switchbacks as the trail was fairly steep and it was a bit intimidating to see loose rocks along the sides of the trail.  Towards the top I quit looking out as it was safer to just stare at the ground.  It was getting to be lunch time and the plan was that we'd stop at the top to eat.  There was sure to be a good view of the scenery stretching out below as far as the eye could see.  After hours of hiking, we finally made it to the top.  Mom and I pulled up the rear as I stopped to take a few pictures here and there.

When the trail bent to the right at a place where two mountains came together, I suddenly turned into a not-so-happy-camper (or hiker rather).  David, Doug, Caleb and Dad were all sitting leisurely on the trail a few yards off starting to dig into their packs for lunch.  I stopped and sat where I was.  Let me just tell you where I was...in the minds of my family members we were in a beautiful place with an outstanding view of God's great creation....in my mind we were on the side of an ominous mountain looking down into the face of death.  You see, the path was maybe five to six feet wide with a tall mountaintop to the right and a drop to sudden death on the left.  There were points on the hike that I thought I'd probably just end up paralyzed if I slipped, there was no such hope with this spot.

The snow is much farther below the ledge that juts out 
in the bottom of the picture...What a view!!!

After a few minutes I traveled down a bit farther to wider and safer ground!

Needless to say, for me, this was not the best place to eat lunch.  I had a mini panic attack, somewhat because of the height and danger but mostly because of my frustration at being afraid.  After calming down and moving forward it got a little better, until we reached the ice.  There was a big patch of ice covering the trail where we had to cross and hope not to slide down and off another cliff.  I got a little more agitated here.  I usually joke around all the time anyway, even when I'm nervous, so I had to actually admit that I didn't enjoy the hike at some moments.  There may have been a few death threats hurled at our guide (David), but luckily I didn't have to carry them
out.

After reaching the safety and comfort of the car there came a sense of relief coupled with accomplishment.  Reflecting back to the different points in the hike, I was able to catch a few revelations about the Lord.

When I was sitting on the ledge at the top of the mountain I was afraid of falling, of meeting my untimely end there.  The size of the peak and the vast distance between myself and the ground below was overwhelming and uncomfortable.  As I kept walking and exploring I realized that the mountain was indeed great and worthy of caution on my part.  It wasn't a vicious rock seeking to throw me to my death, it didn't try to shake me off or laugh maliciously as I almost tripped and lost my footing on the path; yet, the danger was there if I didn't choose to respect where I was.

Gaining a little confidence and posing for a picture.

I finally got a bit of insight into what it means to "fear the Lord".  Isn't he my Savior, Redeemer, Friend and Father?  What does it mean to fear the Lord?  The Lord God is magnificent and mighty.  He is immensely beautiful and wonderful to behold.  He is great and significant, where we are small and insignificant.  He cannot ever fail, fall, lose, or be defeated.  He is to be feared...and worshipped in reverence.

On the mountainside in Montana I saw the greatness of the Lord and the extreme insignificance of little human Hannah.  While He is to be respected and honored (like the trail at the mountain), he does not wish to harm us.  We are meant to marvel at his majesty, not melt in fear.  If I let my fear (awareness) reach hysteria, I could have stopped all together and stayed paralyzed in that spot.  It is unrealistic to fear God as One who would wait for us to fail and then punish us severely.  He is not ruthless, he is rich in love.  My fear was a reverence for the mountain, a realization of it's great power and presence.  As long as I followed the path as I should, I was open to enjoy the view.  God is much the same way.  We should revere Him and acknowledge His power and presence.  When our relationship with Him is obedient and healthy, there's nothing to fear.  When we see Him for Who He is we'll be in awe and express thankfulness for being able to experience the wonder of His majesty.

In his hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him.  - Psalm 95:4

Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting You are God. 

- Psalm 90:2