deciphering me?

I'm thinking this alone may be more than 50 pounds.... I should go to publix and check.

The worst part is that that was only my shirts and dresses. I'm going to have to slim down this crazy process....

PS please note that everything on my bed from the first picture of the last post is what is now in my space bag. which is now in my black suitcase.

the beginnings of packing.

I need good packing music. Right now I'm jamming to a bit of everything, but nothing feels right. Nothing makes me feel upbeat and efficient and capable. This is intense. This packing stuff. As you can see by the pictures, so much packing has been done...not really.

How do I fit all this stuff in my 2 suitcases? How do I decipher what needs to go?! How do I decide which whats I should withhold?

I think I should listen to Brook Fraser's deciphering me. I will. Here I go.

Why I'm doing what I'm doing.

Very few of us debate with the sordid and evil and wrong, but we do debate with the good. It is the good that hates the best, and the higher up you get in the scale of the natural virtues, the more intense is the opposition to Jesus Christ. "They that are Christ's have crucified the flesh" - it is going to cost the natural in you everything, not something. Jesus said - "If any man will be My disciple, let him deny himself," i.e., his right to himself, and a man has to realize Who Jesus Christ is before he will do it. Beware of refusing to go to the funeral of your own independence.

The natural life is not spiritual, and it can only be made spiritual by sacrifice. If we do not resolutely sacrifice the natural, the supernatural can never become natural in us. There is no royal road there; each of us has it entirely in his own hands. It is not a question of praying, but of performing. --Oswald Chambers

When he calls I run to my funeral of independence. Waterloo. Sydney. Hillsong. Meritan Apartments. I can't just sacrifice something, it must be everything.

accepted by the country

They like me! They really do!
(visa has been approved.)

i bought the ticket.

january 7. I'm dreading the tears on that day. The big ones that leave thunderstorm sized rain drops on the upper half of mom's shirt. I'm dreading hugging my brother 'good bye for now'. I want to put my dad's wisdom in my visa/passport fanny pack. (The one that goes under your clothes. It makes me feel like an undercover FBI agent. Cue Bond music.) It's the pack that stores my most important personal information. If I suck in really well I might be able to fit him in there.

January 8th doesn't exist in 2009.

January 9. I'm looking forward to real sleep. all day. no food. no sight seeing. I will find my place of residency, buy a mattress and adios for 8 full hours. April and I will talk about riding a kangaroo after that. Because on January 9, I will have no curfew. I can hang out with the kangaroos until 4am if I please.

I think January 19th will be the hardest day. That's when April goes home. I think the tears will be hailstorm sized. I pity the chap who sits next to my weepy sister on the longest flight of her life. Bless her heart. My poor room mate. She, by default, will have to cuddle with me. She has to. I don't care who she is. I don't even care if she speaks English.

January 20. My first day away from the world I've been the star of for 21 years. My first day of Ramen Noodles and peanut butter crackers.

I get so excited thinking about a reality only 43 days away. But those first 14 days scare the crap out of me.

All the good byes.

All the frustration that Angela, by airline regulation is considered 'passenger' and not 'carry on'.

I don't know what I'm going to do without everyone. I know I'll be me. I know I'll make lasting friendships within 24 hours of being there. I'm wired for community. Community follows me. It's all that outta sight outta mind stuff that makes my lip quiver. Going isn't the hard part. It's the leaving.

It's a week after the benefit and things seem to be speeding up quickly.
My beautiful friend Kaitlin Irons will become Kaitlin Norton on Saturday at 2. In Tennessee. I will be there in brown.

Wednesday, I have a medical exam in Hallandale, Fl at 11:30am. They have to make sure I don't have HEP A,B, or Cyphyllis. I need a chest x-ray and an AIDs check. They want to know that a baby isn't growing in my belly. Luckily, none of that is in me. Isn't that wonderful? Wait, I mean, I do have a chest...but everything else is elsewhere. Not here. So the exam should take about 20 minutes. It should go swimmingly. And I get to spend the first half of the day with my parents, because mom and dad don't want me to drive in the Miami area traffic. So we will rent a car and get our oily greasy fast food hands all over it's leather seats. And we will listen to Shane & Shane and James Taylor as loud as dad can handle it (me and mom are rockers).

I still haven't done quite a bit of things. Thank you's aren't sent out yet, prayer cards aren't printed yet, accommodation isn't taken care of, airline ticket isn't either...I have a lot to do, but I feel okay.My last day at the church is Wednesday. Sad but good. It's a chapter closed. I hope I don't forget to do something that leaves them in a lurch... I want that chapter to end well for them too...

And finally, I met a man I think would be suitable for Angela Cavallo's husband. She needs to meet him and fall in love with him. And they can love Jesus and make music and minister to youth together. And they can wear white belts and part their emo hair to the side...

2 bucks

These last few weeks have been like a roller coaster.
God is constantly proving His love for me.
A few weeks ago, Pastor Grant mentioned my trip to Australia in the Varsity room at 180. He told them my great need financially and my willingness to go whether I saw the money when I left or not. That night we talked about our identities, prayed and dismissed. As people were beginning to head for the buses a student walked up to me and handed me everything he had in his wallet: 2 bucks. He said it wasn't much, but he knew that every penny counted, especially with 'stuff like this'. I started to deny it, thinking that he needed this small amount more than I needed Ramon noodles in July...because that is probably what it would be used for. But then God reminded me not to despise small beginnings. He reminded me of what a joy it is to give and that this was just as much about him learning that as it was about God's call being paid for. And with tears filled to the brim of my eyes I hugged him and thanked him for the sacrifice.I told him it would go to my account, and I would make sure it went to good use. He flashed me a grin and scurried to the buses.
A few weeks later a lady wrote me a check for $50. I was so grateful, but it didn't mean half as much to me as those 2 dollars did. He paved the way for a flood of financial out pour. People are writing me checks every time I pull into church. Cash is coming through the mail. I'm not asking for it. Other people are asking for me.

When God wills you to do something, He is responsible for paying for it. It is not my job because ultimately this is not about me. This is about the body of Christ working together to see hearts softened and changed. This is about God using me as a pipeline to get the gospel in countries Riverside Church will never step foot on. He created me to be the go-er and them the senders. I am just the feet. That is all. What a beautiful picture of the church at work.

I feel honored to be a part of this big picture.