My friend put this quote on her blog:

"to love at all is to be vulnerable. love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. if you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. but in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. it will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable." --c.s. lewis

I love this quote. For many reasons, but for one in particular.

I didn't have the most healthy of love relationships modeled to me as I was growing up. The thought of really loving someone, let alone trusting someone enough to consider marrying them scared the crap out of me.

I realize some people aren't big advocates of the idea of knowing right away when you meet someone that they are "the one", but I am. Within weeks of dating Chris and I knew where our relationship was headed. In fact we were in the midst of filling out our STINT (short term international, our trip to Ukraine) applications, and it asked if we were in a serious relationship that we saw ending in marriage. A little awkward that soon, but we had to talk about what we were going to put.

Right before the conversation I started freaking out. I knew that was where my heart was headed if let it, but I also knew the potential heart break and pain that could ensue if I let it go there, and I hadn't made up my mind I wanted it to go there yet. Fear gripped me.

I called my BFF. She's so smart, and always there. In college we used to call each other at 3am if there was a crisis. This was not 3am, but it was a crisis. Being the smart person she is, and a reader of theologians like C.S. Lewis which I love her for, she busted this quote out on me. I know it was a God thing that He had her reading it, and that she could give it to me. It rocked my world at that point. There was so much that I wasn't willing to be vulnerable with and God exposed my heart for what it was. Cold.

That quote helped me to open my heart to God, and to the most amazing man I get to call my husband. I realized my lack of vulnerability, and in turn my lack of love. I saw relationships (not just with Chris, but friends) that I wasn't being vulnerable in, in how I served, in how I shared, in how I led.

It still brings tears to my eyes when I read it now. I always want to strive to be vulnerable, at whatever the cost, because when I am vulnerable is when love (God) can be seen.

I found this in some research I was doing:

People sometimes ask why, if Satan is real, we don't see more demon possession and exorcisms in America. I have an idea. Satan holds American Christianity so tightly in the vice-grip of comfort and wealth that he's not about to tip his hand with too much demonic tomfoolery. What Satan fears most in this church is an outpouring of the Holy Spirit that causes us to say with Paul, "I count everything as refuse that I might gain Christ . . . that I might know the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings, becoming like him in his death."

John Piper (emphasis mine)

I love JP. He's awesome, and puts it all in perspective. I've been feeling discouraged of recently (as I'm sure you might be able to tell by my previous post) finding really good friends. Not just people to hang out with, or acquaintances, but someone who can be a source of encouragement and challenge me to become a better person and to press deeper into Christ. I realize it might make me sound a little crazy, but I don't want someone to just hang out with. I want more, I want a soul connection.

And it frustrates me that this seems to be something that is so difficult to find. Is it me? Is it them? Do they just not want that kind of relationship with someone? There are a bijillion questions of confusion that run through my mind. For now though, I know what to pray for. An outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Not just for my sake (because I think an indwelling of the HS makes one desire relationships like that) but Christ's sake.

No matter how good of friendships I've developed here, sometimes I just still feel like the newbie. I'm not sure if it's just my insecurity that makes me feel this way, or well...things actually being that way.

See a big part of what makes really good friends is history. And history I don't have. Not here.

As much as I love living in Atlanta, and being away from home, and the fresh perspective living in two new regions of the country has given me, it's awful hard to have history in a place you have only lived one year. Home has got plenty of history. The city does anyhow, but most of the people that I developed that history with are now scattered across the country. Arizona, Oklahoma, Miami...I've only got one good friend that still lives in STL.

I miss history. Knowing when it's okay to call someone and when it's not, knowing if they prefer to communicate by phone, email, or FB. Being able to say one word or phrase that will immediately send you both into fits of laughter. Understanding why when something happens in their life why it's so much more of an ordeal because of a past thing that it brings up that you know about. Being welcomed into their homes with big hugs from their family where you can all sit around and catch up. Most of all though, I think I miss being known.

Maybe someday I will get some history here. Or maybe not. Maybe there is just something special about the combination of high school and college where you develop deep and meaningful relationships. Something that those of us who dare to follow God's calling to new places must maintain through the blessings of technology.

Sometimes though, the thought of a cup of coffee with someone with history, or just hanging out around a kitchen counter, Bread Co. (where you know their order before they say it), or a girls night at Bahama Breeze warms my heart and makes me homesick.

Today is one of those days.

Home and settled. The boys still seem to be catching up on sleep a little bit though, seeing as how all 3 of them are sleeping right now.

What a crazy 7 days. It seems so odd that they were all back to back, and I feel like so much more happened than I will never have time to blog about.

Camp. Camp was... crazy. Interesting. Not at all like a vacation. It was nice to be at the beach and all, but I traded my job as a full time mom to two handsome boys that I can discipline however and whenever I want for babysitting/teaching 7 freshmen teenage girls that I had little control over.

All of us counselors were reminded several times that we were essentially completely responsible for our students and should know where they were at all times. No pressure right? I felt more intimidated about taking care of them then I did my own kids.

The girls that I had in my group were 3 girls that had attended my small group before, and 4 that I had never met. None of my core group of girls were able to come. This only added to my anxiousness of not knowing what to expect and how they would perceive me.

I was very surprised at the amount of spiritual warfare I saw present that week. Particularly towards the leaders. It was as if the enemy knew that was his easiest way to bring the students down, and did everything in his power to get at us. There were several instances of immediate family members of leaders having severe medical issues, and several other even more intense circumstances that are too sensitive to mention here. I really was surprised by the severity of it. However I was immensely blessed by the women leaders who hung out when we could, and got together to pray for individuals and as a whole on more than one occasion and encouraged on an other. I am so grateful to be in the midst of such amazing women. It's been a long time.

Being fairly new to the youth, and only really dealing with my group of girls on Wednesday nights, I'm not as familiar with this generation outside of my girls. Being immersed in it at camp, I was shocked to see what I think is a really big problem within this generation. A lack of respect. I feel old just saying that. I'm sure every generation has said that about the one behind them, but I really was impressed about the intensity of disrespect and downright undermining of authority.

Mind you my parents did a very good job of raising me to be a polite. In fact I think I called my in laws Mr. and Mrs. Kelly until almost a year after we were married and my MIL finally asked me to stop. It's almost second nature to me, and I still have to catch myself not offending others by calling them too proper of a name. But that's how I roll, and how my children are going to roll, and I think it's important because it teaches you about so much more.

The most disconcerting thing to me about the lack of respect shown is this: if in a camp environment you can't show me or another leader respect, then the chances are you don't show your parents much respect, if you don't show them respect how are you ever going to allow Christ to have any authority and respect His leadership over your life? Not to mention Christ commands us to respect those put in authority over us, even those who we don't agree with (I have a whole soap box on that, but another time...). Hebrews 13:17 got busted out a lot that week.

Camp was good. I learned some things too, which hopefully at some point I will have a chance to blog about. It ended with hugs and a salad (the food was horrible), and my wonderful husband whisking me off to Savannah.

I like that he met me halfway, I felt special getting to leave early and go to a romantic place. Words cannot describe Savannah. We hadn't been away just the two of us since our honeymoon. We probably could have gone to a shack in the woods and had a great time. You almost forget how much chemistry you have together without children involved. We checked into our hotel and got ready to head to dinner. While we were getting ready I was trying to put my bracelet on, realizing that at some point it must have broke. I was bummed because it was the only one I had with me, and I really liked it. Chris came in with a small wrapped box and said, I don't have a bracelet, but I do have something that might make it better. I was quite surprised. We don't usually do gifts because of money, and we especially don't do them when we are going away on a wonderful trip. The box contained absolutely perfect diamond earrings. I could not have picked more perfect ones out myself. Princess cut, screw back, perfection.

Then we went to dinner and had the most amazing meal of our lives. Jazz'd Tapas. If you are ever in Savannah, go. In fact, go to Savannah just to go there. The food was SO good. They had a live jazz band playing that was quite talented too. The only thing that could have made it better was a pastry chef and more energy. Four nights of 5 hours or less of sleep in a row were getting to me, and our dinner reservation was at 9:30.

The rest was great, we did the Trolley tours, walked around, ate at some more wonderful restaurants. We got up Sunday planning to grab a quick breakfast and see a few more spots before we grabbed lunch and headed home. God had other plans. I love it when he has other plans.

We were looking at a map, being obvious tourists trying to remember where Jazz'd was since I saw a great breakfast place across the street from it where we wanted to go. A homeless man came up to us asking if he could help us find where it was. We had already pretty much figured it out, but Chris chatted with him a minute amusing him wanting to help. He offered to help us find it. Knowing where we were going, and my protective husband wanting to be cautious he told him he thought we could get there. Then the guy just asked us if we could get him some food. I was intrigued that he asked for food and not money, as must have been my husband who had been carrying most of the conversation up until that point, because after an agreeing glance from me, he asked him to walk with us to breakfast place.

What proceeded was a very sad story. A Vietnam vet, disabled from depression and diabetes, family who wasn't unable to take him in, and no government assistance. But then God stepped in. Somehow he had found a church and he had hope, things were beginning to look up for him. There were connections he had made, and potential shelter coming in the future. After we got our food (which we were previously going to eat and walk) we sat down and Joseph asked to pray. And pray he did. He thanked God for bringing us to him, among many other things. We chatted with him for a while as he ate, hearing more about his story. He got shrimp and grits, because that's what his momma used to make that he loved, and he hadn't had it in years. We got him some fruit, and juice, to help keep his blood sugar from crashing. We're not cash people (meaning we hardly ever carry it, or much of it) but as we finally left Chris gave him all that we had. He kept saying how grateful he was that God brought us to him.

I was grateful too. Grateful that maybe we could help in some small way, and grateful that God would remind us of His heart. After leaving with Joseph's situation on my mind, and some other things that Chris and I have been dealing with, I'm impressed and confused by God's grace.

I am a blessed woman. I have an incredible husband, and two healthy handsome smart boys. While my house isn't the biggest or even decorated yet, I have a beautiful home, with nice furniture, and two cars. We have found a wonderful church and have the start of some hopefully good friendships. But why me? Why do I get so much? Not that I'm not grateful, but why do I get to have it so easy when some have it so hard? I know I have gone through some struggles, but they pale in comparison to the things that others have had to deal with. I have always had a meal waiting on me. I have always had a roof over my head. I have never gone without medical care. I have never been sexually abused. I have so much, and others have had to fight for everything that they have.

I am grieved by their wounds and what they do without, and I feel so insignificant when I try to help or give, or support with friendship and prayer. My heart hurts for these people and what they have lived with and had to endure, and I'm not sure what to do with that. I know I do what I can, and what God gives me the ability to do and that He will use that. I have faith in that, and the healing power and supplication that only He can provide in such miraculous ways. But sometimes, I just don't understand. And I don't think I'm supposed to. He's God, and He has his reasons. I may not understand or agree but I know that my God is a God of love and mercy, patience and grace, and I must trust that He has these people in His hands, and that He is doing a work that He will get great glory from. So I pray, and do what I can, and most importantly trust in that.

So that is how my week of festivities ended. I'm still processing through a lot of it, but I love how in the most unexpected circumstances (like leading/teaching/caring for seven 15 year old girls, or your anniversary trip to Savannah) God finds a way to teach me, and to humble me, and pull me closer to Him. What a great God I serve.

I leave on Monday for camp. Youth camp that is. I'm going as a leader. I also just found out they made me bus captain. Bus captain? I wasn't scared but between that and the dress up nights I found out they have (luau, movie night, and 70's???) I'm feeling a little intimidated.

I'm super excited though, I just hope that in a short amount of time I'll be able to get a good read on the girls I have (most of my regulars aren't coming) and know how best to interact with them.

I come back from camp on Friday, and then Chris and I turn right around and head to Savannah to celebrate our 5 year anniversary.

Five years. It seems like no time at all. We also have never, in five years, taken a trip just the two of us. Okay, well there was one time we went to a wedding in KC, but it was for one night, and I was 8 months pregnant, March madness finals were on and a bunch of his guy friends were there too. It just wasn't that kind of trip.

It's also the first time we've really got to celebrate our anniversary. We're always having babies or moving. So it's kind of a big deal all around.

I like celebrating our anniversary. It's just an excuse to remind myself again why I'm a very blessed girl. My husband, is pretty much amazing. I know every girls says that, but mine really is.

I have never met another guy more worthy of respect than my husband. Okay, maybe Mr. Hillis, but I think Chris is a lot like him, so it's kind of the same thing. He's just so solid. I know that sounds odd, but I continue to be in awe of his unwavering rock solid views on life. He doesn't ever seem to question if something is right or wrong, he just knows what is right and does it. This goes across the board at church, social gatherings, and work. He doesn't have one face for one group and another for someone else.

His work ethic is beyond anything I've ever seen, he gives 110% all the time. He never slacks on doing a good job, and he has called in sick maybe once or twice in 5 years of working there. He's courteous to everyone and doesn't get sucked into office drama or politics. He helps his co-workers out when they are behind, and when they come to him for questions takes time out of his busy schedule to answer and help them.

This applies at home and church too, whether it be helping around the house (we actually have fights about him wanting to clean) leading our small group, or being a dad. He is always giving himself away to people, and helping to serve them.

He's kind and generous, has a strong moral standard, but isn't a stick in the mud. Somehow he manages to be everything to everyone without compromising any of himself.

Some people think he is quiet when they first meet him which seems so odd to me. I think that it's the fact that he isn't going to run his mouth about nothing. If he has something to say, he'll say it, but he's not going to jump in with a bunch of people and talk just to talk. He's thoughtful and intentional about what he says. And hilarious. There is no one that can make me laugh as much as he can. If you know him well, you know what I'm talking about, no further explanation needed.

Most importantly he is a servant leader. Everywhere, but mainly in our house. I haven't had the best of luck with male authority figures in my life, but there has never been one ounce of fear regarding his leadership of me and our family with him. If there is an area he realizes he hasn't been the greatest in, he doesn't hesitate to apologize.

He's an amazing husband, father (it's kind of ridiculous how much our kids adore their daddy), friend, leader... the list could go on forever.

If there is ever a time where I'm being less than grateful all God has to do is remind me of who I married, and what He gave me. That alone is prompt to worship and praise His faithfulness, goodness, and most importantly mercy.

The very first time I met Chris I told God I wanted to marry a guy like that. I just never imagined I would actually get to marry that guy!

I have self-confidence issues. And I have an overly analytical brain. This is a very bad combination.

It results in thoughts like these, while preparing for a playdate the next morning:

"What should I pack the kids and I for lunch? Should I just pack what we usually eat? But what if they don't think I feed my kids healthy enough, and what if they look at what am I eating and think that is the reason why I'm fat (mind you the kids eat turkey, cheese, and fruit, and I have a turkey sandwich on wheat bread and fruit). I have to go to the gym before it, all my gym clothes are old and ratty, what if they think I'm a complete slob? Should I go home and change first?"

It's so annoying, and it goes on like this all of the stinking time. Especially in social situations, I am always criticizing myself, or wondering if I said too much, or the wrong thing, or a bijillion other critiques.

I've always been a self aware person. Aware of what I'm wearing, how I'm put together, the overall image I'm portraying. However I wasn't always so critical of myself in what I said. In fact I probably used to be not critical enough of the things that came out of my mouth. Now I'm overly critical, and yet I still say overly harsh things all the time.

I think Ukraine, and babies messed me up.

Let me explain that. In Ukraine I was made aware of a lot of negative qualities in myself. While I am grateful that they were brought to my attention, I was not approached in a very kind or loving manner on these issues. In fact many of the things I had even previously liked about myself were criticized while there.

I came home feeling very aware of every little thing I said and did, and felt like everyone was watching all of my mistakes ready to attack me about them just like happened there.

Within two years of that I had a baby. I gained 50 pounds while I was pregnant, and 30 of them hung around. The little self confidence that I had left had been based on my appearance. Add that to a non existent clothing budget (my other crutch), and you can imagine the damage.

Since then I've been able to regain some of my confidence back. It's mostly confidence in who I am, and what I know about myself to be true, i.e. what God has given me, done in me and who He has created me to be.

But when it comes to social situations, I'm a disaster. It doesn't help to be in a fairly new place with fairly new friends, who don't really know me either.

It's a really annoying cycle, and my mind is my biggest enemy. Replaying all of the bad scenes, wrong words used, questionable humor and bad actions. Sometimes I really wish God had made an off switch for it.