No order to the chaos- for my teenagers who loved me.

Lets be real for a moment- (we all know I love to get down to the heart of the matter...)

When I boarded my first plane to Maine, trailing two yellow suit cases and a pocket full of hand wipes, I never would have guessed this would be where I ended up. Sometimes I've thought,  if I never walked off the plane in Portland, would I have ever discovered how broken my heart was? If I never saw how green the grass was, feeding from the Kennebec, would I have ever longed for freedom from the lies? If I had never fallen in love with the people and felt as though their dreams were my dreams, their pain, my pain, would I have ever really come face to face with the devil himself? 

Truth is, I can't answer any of those questions, because I did walk off the airplane that warm June afternoon, I did see the green grass and fell so longingly in love with the people and their stories. I discovered how broken my heart was, how enslaved I was to the lies of my generation and in turn I found myself banging on the door of hell. 

My story, began when God found me at 15. 

I expected life would tame me years down the road. That I would grow into a poised, young christian woman, quiet in my ways and well respected. But what I found 5 summers ago was much more then a stereotype but a calling and transformation. 

My transformation beckoned me back and I finally was granted the opportunity to be the lover, the messenger and the listening ear at my beloved Chop Point.  Oh but this past summer was so painful. Adversity became my right hand man- divorce, lies, cancer, lies, the horrific ending of a relationship, lies and then if emotional warfare wasn't tough enough, I was called to a summer of pouring into teenagers. Everything I knew dissolved and the only thing I could cling to in my darkest moments was that Jesus knew what my pain felt like. He knew the feeling of not being enough. Some days my pain was so debilitating the only way I found to keeping on living was how unconditionally my kids loved me. They loved me for how broken I was, they saw the only good part of me, the God part of me and forgave all the human in me.   

So many days all I could see was the 15 year old me reflected their eyes, I wondered if this was how I was loved as a camper- so imperfectly. 

Returning to NOVA has been a journey in itself. The dark days came back to haunt me, the days that the devil sought me out when I didn't have the energy to fight back. But the point of this post and the point of where I am in life is that I am so grateful I found Christ 5 years ago. I am so grateful I know pain, heart break, that I am no longer naive, and that though my journey has been hard, full of pot holes and flat tires, I am still standing and more then ever want the dreams that God created me with. And let me be honest here- thats to love angsty, hipster, wild, creative, awkward, outkasted teenagers. 

For so long I've been afraid of the Gospel, I've been afraid to tell my family and friends that I'm radically in love with Jesus, but I can't keep denying that God has pulled me up from all the murky mud hell so that I could be apart of the beautiful change our world needs. So THANK YOU children of my heart and soul for teaching me to believe like all of our lives depend on it.