Yield.

Things I have learned in the past three months:

1. Time management. College will shape you up in that area real quick.

2. Placing a heart in earthly things will leave that heart rusty and thieved.
Wrap it up in the heavenlies, it will be there when this race is finished.

3. Running is the best stress reducer and...
 lifting weights next to guys in the gym will bring sweet humility.

4. Some of your best friends will be named "Shanaynay" and she will be the whitest girl you know.

5. His thoughts and ways are 21,500 light years+ higher than any of our thoughts and ways.

6. Walking by faith, not by sight; the beautiful power of choice.

7. Some of the best conversations come through night trips to Chicago,
Texas & Canadian Skype dates and country fields.

8. Fruits and veggies may be the best diet ever.

9. Seeing 3-month-old babies, young mommas and a daddy-less generation grows an
ache to love on kiddos of my own.

10. CRAZY, WILD opportunities to go make losing heart look way less appealing.

11. Being thankful is the most precious gift I can give myself.

12. More recently, yielding. Yield literally means 'to give up or surrender' or 'resign'.
After going, going, going on your own, yield is sweet word to my soul.
Throwing my hands in the air.
Resigning to my own life.
Taking my face to the ground.
Slumping over on my knees.
Breathing.
Yielding.
My best prayer has been: I'm spent. It's all you, Lord.
His best response has been (& is always): Good. I'm glad to take over.
It's funny because the verb meaning of 'yield' is 'to produce or give forth'.
When His work is completed in me, He says your turn.
Go.
With an endurance I have produced.
Provide.
With a vigor only I can give.

The harvest is full, mi hija. 

Psalm 126:6 says, "Those who go out weeping,
bearing the seed for sowing,
shall come home with shouts of you,
carrying their sheaves."
(I love You, Papa)

seattle.

things you may not understand unless your name is mckenna wilde,

but i'm going to write anyway.

exit 208 is thee best exit of my life. there's no difference between chinese and thai. reggie coming to dinner!!!11 seeing nicki minaj. getting hypothermia every evening. dogs. ghost tours. visiting sam :) the letter f. 8-hour conversations. dogs. spirit never moving, ever. 'flaking' food to horses - what does that even mean? lisp, twitch, squinted eyes. $300,000 for a lobby. 5 starbucks in a day is normal. recliner olympics, while watching olympics. brent's un-listening ears. instagram. jennifers' face story. being invited to morgan's birthday party. taco bell order guy. dancing in alfy's. going to every book store. magical wind. riding up hills in downtown. puke green elevators. dogs. expectation & reality. emma stone. seeing mountains errrywhere. testimonies. trying to jump and not doing it. honesty. expensive art. loveeeeee.

just being blessed.

summer camp.

Two months.
Eight weeks.
Lots of lessons.


Perseverance. 
There's always a point in ministry where I look up and say, "Lord, are you for real? Do you even want me here? Were you just kidding when you called me to this place?" because I feel weak. I feel like I'm hurting more than I'm helping. I feel like I haven't reached the point of being usable (I don't even know what that point is). I feel misunderstood, and alone.
And there's always a point to which He answers, "Look at Jesus. Tell me if He gave up, tell me He didn't patiently endure for the JOY sent before Him; tell me what He did and I'll tell you if I'm for real." because I'm certain He felt weak, sweating blood in Gethsemane and I'm positive in the midst of hurling insults and spits to the face, He felt alone and misunderstood but there was something greater going on and He knew it. Something holy. Something true. Something worth persevering for.
In the same way, in a camp, in the middle of Indiana, 2,000 years later - there was something greater going on. Something holy. Something true. Something worth persevering for and it was the look of freedom on that group of 7th grade girls who had been told time and time again they weren't enough, it was the joy of understand forgiveness in Chole's heart, it was the strength to believe in Haley's life.
That was my JOY, that's what I was fighting for.

Being a child.
We had a terrible group of kids one week. Terrible. Mean. Disrespectful. Hurtful. The ones where they look you in the eye, listen to what you say, wait for a second to pass and do thee exact thing you asked them not to do. Yep, those ones. But it wasn't just one kid here or there, it was the ENTIRE group. Our staff was so excited to love on these kids but luckily, I was in the kitchen that week. Lucky right? Wrong. One boy came through the line and we placed ONE pea on his tray, one. Just one. And he took it and through it right back into the pot and for those of you who don't know, you would need to dump that entire pot out and start over (We didn't but anyway...). I was like whaaaaa?! and really began to pray. Hard. For these terrible, mean kids and the Lord said,
STOP. 
Not loud or mean but clearly. He began to speak to my heart and He said, "You look me in the eye, listen to what I say, wait a second and do thee exact thing I ask you not to do. You become angry over something small, you manipulate to get your way, and then you throw my pea of grace back in My face. You are these children but you are mine, and they? They are mine. Love them, don't try to discipline them or change them; love them. Meet them where they are at because I do that with you, every. day."
Owned, by the Lord.
I began to love, and they began to respond.
The Gospel lived out.

i CHOOSE you.
Living across the street from your boyfriend has its peaks. Especially after living in a different country for five months, it took some getting used to waking up and walking out the door and waving to him as he was sweeps the porch or saying good-night in person but it also has its valleys. I experienced more hardship in my relationship being together every day than I did thousands of miles a part. Because I see flesh, because I notice down falls, because I choose not to understand, or care, or love. It is easier to walk away, it is easier to throw in the towel and say, "That was a good year." but it takes something beyond you to stay. To choose to understand. To choose to love. To see the ick in a person and declare, "I may not feel gooey about you right now, but I CHOOSE YOU. All of you. Yes, even the icky part but the beautiful parts, too. The encouraging parts and the leadership parts and the praying parts. I CHOOSE YOU."
Jesus deeply sees us. Jesus deeply knows our motives and thoughts and sees each action and I know He wasn't feeling mushy when He said, "You did not choose me, but I chose you."
That's love. That's faith. That's endurance.
It goes beyond a feeling.
(Thank you, Sam for choosing me time and time again, even in the midst of hardship. You amaze me.)

Waiting for the pat on the back.
So often, Christians in America (or, in general but I only know of America) are waiting for that pat on the back. Or that "You are going so above and beyond by loving that homeless man; good job!". Or recognition for doing what is require of us.
There's a story in the bible where Jesus says, "Does the master thank the servant when he's done in the fields? No, the master eats and drinks then lets the servant eat and drink." The master doesn't thank him or give him a high five for what's required of him. We are waiting for something  that only boosts are egos, that only makes us focus on ourselves and somehow think that they way we love is from US.
Yeah, right.
Stop waiting for the pat.
Or the good job.
Or the high five.
Your reward is in heaven, not on earth.
If we're honestly repenting, unconditionally loving, purposefully pursuing;
we're simply doing what's required of us.

spring days.

Today, my brother and I were playing soccer. It was an unseemingly gorgeous day with the sounds you'd expect on that kind of day - birds chirping, kids laughing, bikes belling. We were playing in the side yard of my house, smaller than a soccer field as trees for our goals. It was fun and we were laughing. I took the soccer ball little by little to the left then kicked it to the right and scored. Dakota loves to make long kicks, the ones you have no chance of blocking and so that's the one he used for his first goal of the game. We went back and forth and I made another goal but it went across the street. We have this rule where if another gets a goal, we grab the ball and start the next round. So, I imagined him grabbing the ball and bringing it back in. Then, something changed. His shoulders slumped, his lip got poutty and his head looked only downwards. "I quit!", he said beginning to go torwards the ball.
"You quit?", I asked, "Why?!"
"I'm losing!"
"Kota, you can't just quit when you're losing."
...or when you feel like you are.
I am my little brother. In this season of my life where I feel like I'm losing, I take on slumped shoulders and with my bad attitude I proclaim "I quit!" and start walking away from the game. I wasn't quitting my faith because I still talked to God every day, had faith He would raise me up and tried enjoying each moment. But like that 8-year-old, feeling like I had no chance, I quit. Quit being hopeful. Quit my relationships. Quit trying. Just plain out quit.
I explained to Dakota that if he kept going, it would be worth it. So, he decided to stay.
The score was 2-1, my lead.
Then, it was 2-2.
And, 2-3.
Then, 2-4.
I promise you I was trying but like I said, he likes those long ones I can never seem to get. Again, though, I saw something change. As he was trying with all his heart and making it, he became more passionate about making the next one and the next one. He was focused and excited, he was trying and winning. Then, God whispered to me, "Emily, you can't just quit when you're losing...or feel like you are. You may not understand this season, but that's okay. I'm your hope; I am who I am and I will not fail you."
I laughed at myself (seriously, the best medicine) and whispered, "Thanks."
He further explained to the depths of my heart that if I kept going, it would be worth it.
So, I decided to keep going. To keep trusting. To keep seeking because those who seek, find. Then, something changed. I was focused and excited, I was passionate and knew I was winning and always would be with Christ as my all in all. With Christ as my strength and hope, with Him as my joy and praise. He's disciplining me, He's teaching me and He's loving me.
Between me (and my awesome God) and life, the score is 1-0, my lead.

time capsule.

a month and two days.
i celebrated with a walk, a few books and a bench in a park. i didn't celebrate being back in america, but surviving being back. the american dream is all around me but i just feel like i'm in a dream - an alternate universe, where i'm supposed to belong but don't - looking for an exit but not finding one, like in a dream. lonliness catches up to me most of the days but my imagination takes me to chicago, or better yet, panama or even best, mexico. my room is more of a storage unit than a safe santuary and my friends are more of a comfort than a reality. thankful, though. for ten other people who know yet keep going. for a god who knows yet keeps pushing. for a friend who doesn't have a clue but keeps trying. for a sun that peaks out on my cloudy days, and a couch that snuggles me as i read the living word.
this is my life for now, not forever.
looking forward to that not forever part.

summary.

Driving past the old stomping grounds of high school, driving towards a familiar home, driving by buildings that have only become older since I've left, I find myself wondering where the past five months have all went. Are they stored in the logic of my brain? Are they wrapped as treasures in my heart? Are they mere memories I dreamed up? I find myself wondering how I'm not exploding because to fit all those faces in the compartments of my understanding would be an overload. But somehow, God has done it. 

He has etched the joy of Chepo, a village in Panama, throughout my veins.

He has carved the features of the Ngobe people into my mind. 

He has encouraged me through pastors who have nothing, yet willing to give everything.

He has continually moved my spirit to prayer for the lost of San Jose; the kids with drug addicted parents, the prostitutes with lies being their truth, the onlookers with helplessness, the foreigners trying to bring Jesus.

He has placed a longing to fulfill the simple gestures; a hug, prayer, laugh.

He has weighted me down with a compassion for every life I meet.

It was my PRIVILEGE to live out of a backpack for the cause of Christ, with limited clothes, and comforts. It was an HONOR to eat rice and beans for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was a JOY to walk miles throughout a jungle proclaiming the good news, in 80 degree weather. It was a BLESSING to be peed on by a baby and to lose sleep because of roosters and late nights of praying. It was a PRIVILEGE to lead 50 rowdy kids. It was a JOY to learn a new cultural, not doing things the I thought they should be done. It was a BLESSING to leave my phone, car, house behind. Many would say I sacrificed so much in the past five months, I would say I gained far more in the past five months. And would you actually believe I miss it?

    

"Listen, my beloved brothers and sisters. Has not God chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith and to be heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him?"

Thank you, God that your kingdom is a kingdom upside down. Thank you, God that you are everywhere, all the time. Thank you that it's not up to me to save the world. Thank you that I can lose all things and still have everything I need. Thank you for teaching me, loving me, growing me. Fill the void in my heart for the places I'm no longer at; I ask for wisdom in the coming steps. May I bring your name glory.