I need to stop worrying About Time

It feels like just last week I wrote my first blog for September. The time is quickly flying by in this Fellows program. I think of 9 months as a very long time but already feel how we are already done with 2 months of that. I worry that before I know it, we’ll be in May. I think that means I am really enjoying my time and living it to the fullest. Even though I have felt more tired this month I have really tried to continue to do or participate in as much as possible. I have continued to grow closer to my host family, the Patels. Tuesday night dinners have been such a great change of pace each week. Also, everyone needs to see Alpesh in his Joe Exotic costume. I have also enjoyed all of our roundtables this month and the discussions we have had. We have had some deeper discussions that I really appreciated. I don’t think I would be so comfortable with these conversations even if they had happened just a couple months ago. As I have grown to know everyone and be closer with the group I kind of enjoy the conversations and appreciate them more. Another conversation we had with Edward, our New Testament teacher, was about Faith and Politics. I really enjoyed it. It was so great to hear with how turbulent and toxic the political climate has been I am so ready for the political ads to be over. I have also enjoyed my time with Raleigh friends. I have gotten to see my friends I grew up with, David and Hunter. We had dinner and just caught up on everything happening in our lives. My friends Will and Laura got engaged earlier this month. I got to see them (and Wanda) that night for their engagement party. It was great to see the pure happiness they both had about it. I got a taste of the fair one weekend when we went to get food. It was not the same as it normally is but better than not having it at all. October was great but I think the best time I had was Halloween night when most of the Fellows just came to the guys house and we sat around the fire. We talked for hours, taking turns on the hot seat and getting asked questions by the rest of the group. Maybe it was the fire but I just really enjoyed hearing everyone talk and answering some questions about myself. Then we watched About Time and it was a bit more emotional of a movie than I expected. In the movie, the protagonist can go back in time at any point he wants to potentially change his past. The protagonist uses this to help meet his wife and also to spend more time with his Dad (that part really hit me). At one point his Dad tells him how he could live each day twice, once for the genuine experience and then again to live it without worry. I want to live each day or week like that or just to seize each day. Even in the days that I just want to get home and go to sleep, I want to remember that this will be over so much sooner than I think. Don’t dwell on the insignificant stress and worry. I am so glad I am in this program and what it holds for me, I just want to ensure I enjoy every moment of it and not miss the little things that have so much beauty.

Trey Holsten

The 7 things I Love (hate) about Morgan

There is something unique about sharing a room with someone - an unspoken bond of sorts.  You grow to learn their routines and all of the little quirks in between. For these 9 months I have the burden...wait…sorry...the honor of sharing a room with Morgan.  She’s the first face I see in the morning and the last before bed.  In just two short months I have accumulated some thoughts/observations about what it is like to be roommates with Morgan:

1. Our mutual love for a box fan. Honestly this could have been a deal breaker for me - the white noise and air flow are essential  (if you are anti-box fan - check your heart) 

2. “Vibing” is now a part of my vocabulary 

3. By the end of these 9 months I am not sure if our room will look more like a bedroom or a plant store - check back in with me on that one 

4. “I don't understand how you had a life before you knew me. I just don’t get how that could be possible”.  - Morgan

5. We share an affinity for aggressive or maybe even borderline hurtful sarcasm.  (insert throw up sound)

6. Toothbrush talk - iykyk 

7. Most importantly: her sweet, gentle, and selfless spirit.  Even on my worst days,  Morgan can find a way to make me laugh, smile, and feel at peace and that is something I am grateful for.  

Here’s to 7 more months living within the same walls...maybe...just maybe I’ll like her by the end. 

Morgan’s roommate,

Sara

Might be a Pyromaniac

Alright, I did the thing you’re not supposed to do, I submitted my blog late. But I have an excuse. Last night (10/31) we had a bonfire for the fellows and while I should’ve been blogging I was sitting out by the fire. Sorry about that Ashley. There is something about a fire for me though, that I just want to be a part of, almost over anything. In my experience, as was true last night, a fire ends up leading to deep and unexpected conversation. It seems to give you permission to avoid eye contact as you gaze at the flames which must be some sort of truth serum based on how often deep conversations come up surrounding a fire.  

I probably started to appreciate fire early on in college when we would collect Christmas trees put out in January and create some pretty huge flames. Flames that would be more appropriate for the middle of a field, instead of a front yard in a Raleigh neighborhood. I’ll never forget those memories and waves that existed. By that I mean, there was always a first wave of people that built up this living thing from pine straw, to twigs, to sticks, and finally to some logs. That process usually only had a few people because there was no warmth yet, it was something that took time and effort. That first wave always brings a sense of accomplishment among the few, while it gives them permission to set the tone of conversation that ends up surrounding the fire. The second wave is the one that everyone takes part in, it's loud, overwhelming, crowded, etc. But then my favorite wave is the third wave. That’s when people get tired, go inside or go home and leave the few who are enjoying it most. In my experience that’s when there are no walls up between people, the truth serum is its strongest. 

I’ve been fortunate to travel out west to different national parks with many of my best friends. And maybe it’s the pyromaniac in me but coming back from a hike and sitting around the fire reflecting on the day might be the best part of the day. It’s a time that leads to laughter as we recount the days funniest jokes and circumstances. Often there is awe as we discuss the undeniable beauty of the piece of creation we got to experience that day. And as it always seems to go, there is some sort of introspection, that brings up conversations that for some reason just don’t seem to happen in another circumstance.

Here are some pics,

Jeb

Why oh, Why, Why, Why?

Volatile and Turbulent. Those are the two words I’d use to describe my October. Anyone who knows me well will tell you I love being up in my head and perseverating. I will think about a situation and its worst-case scenarios until I beat it into submission. Then even if I reach a conclusion, I repeat the process a few more times just to be sure I went through every possible facet. I find comfort in processing things logically. It gives me a sense of control over it all.

So when I was met with waves of emotions this month, I had no clue what to do with them. For someone who considers themself so grounded in reason, I was repeatedly caught off guard by how emotions could sweep me off my feet at a moment’s notice. The feels came in waves with no real patterns to help me forecast their return. It didn’t matter if I was alone or hanging out with friends. During class or playing video games. The emotions could ravage me whenever and wherever. And when they came, they were violent and all-consuming. Everything that I knew to be true and good would be cast to the wayside and replaced with falsehoods of angst, shame, and a whole lot of doubt. I doubted my friends. I doubted myself. I doubted the goodness of my Father. Any sort of healing that I thought was happening felt like a figment of my imagination.

Oh, and then I kept dreaming vividly (I have never dream) about all the things I’m processing or just wake up in the middle of the night thinking about it, leaving me more tired and vulnerable to emotions consuming me during the day. It seriously felt like an emotional ambush was waiting around every corner.

To combat this onslaught of heartache, I convinced myself that if I understood all that happened, the emotions would subside. Let my brain do its thing and perseverate. Play every memory over that could’ve caused this mess and how I could’ve prevented it. Then go on mulling about how worst-case scenarios for the future following the fallout. Trying to answer these questions just became background noise in my head that was constantly blaring. I could be in one room with people but have my mind in a completely different place. It was exhausting. I had a few moments driving I literally tried to drown out that noise with music full volume.

The problem is, I’ll never know all the answers, and even if I could have them all, it won’t take away the hurt. Answering the why of it all isn’t going to help me move on. All I can do is come to the Father with open hands and ask that he bind my wounds and maybe help me have a restful night of sleep.

While it often didn’t feel like it, I know He’s answering those prayers. There have been slight improvements. The frequency of attack has decreased, the intensity of pain has declined, and there are a few nights a week where I at least don’t remember the dreams entirely. Further, I think my capacity to deal with emotion is increasing. I’m nowhere near being completely healed, but I’ve been able to see a little glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel.

We’ll get there one day. Upwards and onwards (AKA Philippians 4:4-9).

For the love,

Austin

My long list of quotes/lyrics (part 2):

“I couldn’t wait for you for my entire life
I hope you make it to someone who treats you right
And when you think of me I hope that all your memories are sweet
But I don’t wanna walk around the issue for forever
Haven’t found a way to make it better
Look around and hopefully you’ll see what I have seen”

— IMPATIENT by SEBASTIAN PAUL

“Breaking habits overnight
Scattered pieces on the floor
All the fragments of my mind
I’m so much different than before
The way I’m talking in my sleep
And when I dream, you’re there with me
You’re leaving me faded
I’d say three words to keep you here
But every fear is leaving me faded, you’re leaving me faded”

— Faded by Opia

“I turn up my speakers
So I can drown my thoughts just a little bit quicker
Dancing barefoot in the dead of winter
So I can numb this heart that’s full of splinters
They say time heals
All wounds but these clocks are at a standstill
And I’m counting every second that you’re not here
But only in my dreams do you appear
Am I allowed to lay down my smile
And be bitter just for a while?
Don’t keep pulling me under, we were meant to stay afloat
I see all the embers, they’ve not yet lost all their glow
Could you try to take a look into my eyes
And tell me why oh why, why, why?”

— whywhywhy by MisterWives

“The hour is dark
And it’s hard to see
What You are doin’ here in the ruins
And where this will lead
Oh, but I know
That down through the years
I’ll look on this moment and see Your hand on it
And know You were here”

— The Story I'll Tell by Naomi Raine

“Emotions are real, but they aren’t the truth.”

— One wise sock

“Contrary to what we expect to be the case, therefore, the deeper into weakness and suffering and testing we go, the deeper Christ’s solidarity with us. As we go down into pain and anguish, we are descending ever deeper into Christ’s very heart, not away from it.”

— Gentle and Lowly (pg. 51) by Dane Ortlund

“When we look at our faith, we inevitably look at our feelings—and if you ground God’s love for you in your feelings, neither your conscience nor heart will be satisfied. In effect, Mother Teresa embraced justification by sensing God’s love for her. When we base God’s love for us on how we feel about his love, it inevitably leads to self-entanglement, because we never have enough faith.... Looking at your faith will depress you, whereas exercising faith by looking to Jesus frees you. We are declared righteous because of Jesus’s blood, not by the energy of our faith. Otherwise, we get caught in endless mental traps. True faith frees the conscience like nothing else.”

— The J-Curve (pg. 86) by Paul Miller

Double oof

Hey everyone, it’s your resident sad boy Tommy! Well two months in and oh boy, I think it’s safe to say I did not know what I was getting myself into. I’m assuming you reading this have heard the old saying “be careful what you wish for”. Welp, maybe I should have been a little more careful when hoping this year would be a formative one of change by the Lord’s hands. Let me tell ya, it is painful. Thinking back prior to beginning fellows, I can’t help but feel naïve in my thoughts regarding the journey I was about to embark on. In all honesty, I came into the program in a very difficult place and I was sincerely hoping that the Lord would work drastically in my life. Insecurities and lies I had experienced, which I was convinced I had a handle on, came back more alive than ever. Truthfully, it felt at the time like rock bottom. A season marked by loneliness, isolation, and despair left me hollow. I felt spiritually idle, dead in the water, waiting for the fellows program to come rescue me from my spiritual pit. 

Flash forward to beginning the program. I meet a bunch of incredible people, begin spiritual classes, and am surrounded by activities which are centered on Jesus. Perfect! My problems are solved. Now it’s just a matter of time and things will improve and improve and I’ll be back to my normal self, right? Well, dumb old Tommy didn’t realize that the Lord had to cut away the decaying pieces of me to fully restore my heart. Dang, it’s painful. What I thought was rock bottom over the summer looks far more appealing than the inner turmoil I have felt since diving into the fellows program, and I mean that in the best way possible. I was hoping for sanctification without the pain but I realized by day 10 I was not going to be afforded that luxury. I felt I was truly alone with my feelings for the first time in months and let me tell you, what a terrifying place to be. I felt myself physically writhing in discomfort, it was as if I needed to escape the presence of the Lord because I anticipated the pain of him addressing these pieces of me. It feels at times that he’s got a grip of my soul, and is turning it and wringing it out of all the lies that have soaked into how I viewed myself. It’s truly wild to me that there were times while I was alone that I felt almost physical pain because being brought face to face with the lies I believed cut so deep. I mean why wouldn’t they, they were statements which reflected the true darkness of what I believed about myself. I felt detached from those around me, especially the Lord. I was angry at him, for reasons I don’t fully understand. Maybe it felt as if his promise of the cross didn’t seem to ring true in my life, and him telling me I can return to him and feel love felt so unrealistic, it felt like he didn’t know what he was talking about. Thinking you are unworthy, and believing you are unworthy are two completely different things. When it becomes a belief, it soaks deep into the recesses of your heart. Because of this, God has to plunge his hands deep into my soul, and rip away the cancerous beliefs which had become so intertwined with me. 

What I so incorrectly thought was going to be a nice and steady climb out of darkness and into the light quickly transformed into me hitting rock bottom, and then clawing my way even lower. If you have not yet read the Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis, I implore you to begin. But in his novel, a man leaves hell and tours heaven, and there’s an exchange which has stuck with me for two years now, and seems to ring incredibly true now. The main character’s celestial tour guide says “All Hell is smaller than one pebble of your earthly world: but it is smaller than one atom of this world, the Real World. Look at yon butterfly. If it swallowed all Hell, Hell would not be big enough to do it any harm or to have any taste.” And what was the main character’s response? Was it overwhelming joy at the hope in this statement? Was it eagerness to live a life free of hell? His response was simply, “It seems big enough when you’re in it, Sir”. Double oof. I hear the promises of what life with Christ is like. Heck, I have experienced these joys first hand. But right now, the valley I have been walking in feels wide and I feel oh so small. If I had any idea of how painful sanctification was, I may not have been hoping for it coming in. But that’s the funny thing about life with Jesus: It is profoundly hard. Then again, it’s far more painful not knowing how crazy God is about me. All of the pain of this world can’t even be registered on an atomic scale in comparison to the joy of Christ Jesus. I’m just having a hard time seeing it. Anyways, if none of this made any sense go to listen to the song “Doubting Doubts” by Citizens. They basically sing some of what I was trying to type. Peace, love, and blessings!

Zombieland (2009)

Happy Halloween! I hope no one reading this has wasted their time this month watching the new Adam Sandler project, Hubie Halloween. Because I did, and it’s not good! I watched it so you don’t have to. You’re welcome! The following words are about some feelings I have felt and some thoughts I have thought recently.

“Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner!”

This prayer cannot escape me for whatever reason. Whether it be in a book, a scripture reading (“Son of David, have mercy on me!”), or in class, it continues to penetrate my thoughts. I seem to be mindlessly performing the next task every day. This mental block repeatedly prevents me from true prayer and communion with God. I think I have the desire, but can’t seem to actually seem to say anything to God, or give space and focus for Him to speak in return. Again and again, over and over, I seem to only recite this short prayer. It’s the only thing that brings me out of the fog. Nothing else can comfort me in the slightest. Otherwise, my mind floods with thoughts and insecurities, some new and some thought to be dealt with ages ago. I beg to come out of the zombie state I’ve been in, but maybe I’m in this spot for a reason. God is teaching me something through this simple prayer, I’m sure of it. Lord, give me the patience and wisdom to see what that is.

“The desire to pray itself is a type of prayer. How often we ask for genuine experience when all we really want is emotion.” - Reverend Ernst Toller, First Reformed

Cheers,

Cam

P.S. If you can’t tell, I really love the movie First Reformed. Give it a watch on Amazon Prime.

Wounded and Blessed: Wrestling with God in the Wilderness

Last week, Ashley reminded me of a Biblical story that has become illuminating and life-giving to me in the last year: the Old Testament story of Jacob wrestling with God in the wilderness. If you’ve ever read it, you’ll know it’s an odd story. Basically, Jacob is camping alone on the river, between one bad situation and another. While he’s there, he encounters a mysterious stranger who rouses him for a wrestling match, of all things (you can accuse the Bible of many things, but being boring is not one of them!). He and the stranger—who appears to be a man—wrestle all through the night, each gaining an upper hand one moment only to lose it in the next. The stranger eventually dislocates Jacob’s hip, injuring him but not overpowering him. By the time dawn breaks, Jacob knows this is no mere man; in some mysterious way, he is wrestling with God Himself. So Jacob musters the nerve to demand a blessing of his opponent. Demand is an understatement—he obstinately refuses to let God go until he receives a blessing. God, in his mercy, yields: He renames Jacob “Israel,” meaning “He struggles with God” and blesses him. His twelve sons became the twelve tribes of Israel. 

I write out that story first, because it is nothing short of riveting and bewildering. Secondly, I think this story holds the key to how we see our identity as Christians. In one of my favorite books, Inspired, late author Rachel Held Evans explains:

“The significance of this story of family origins to the people of Israel cannot be overstated, for it demonstrates how the dynamic, personal, back-and-forth relationship between God and God’s people is embedded in their very identity, their very name—Israel, ‘because you have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome’ (Genesis 32:38)... This understanding of themselves as a people who wrestle with God and emerge from that wrestling with both a limp and a blessing informs how Jews engage with Scripture, and it ought to inform how Christians engage Scripture, too, for we share a common family of origin, the same spiritual DNA… if I’ve learned anything from thirty-five years of doubt and belief, it’s that faith is not passive intellectual assent to a set of propositions. It’s a rough-and-tumble, no-holds-barred, all-night-long struggle, and sometimes you have to demand your blessing rather than wait around for it.”

 In the past two months here, I’ve felt myself again be roused by that mysterious stranger in the night, and accept his invitation to a wrestling match. As is to be expected in this program, I have already been wrestling with personal, vocational, and spiritual doubt. In our round table discussions, classes, and everyday lives together, we as a Fellows class have been daring to raise difficult questions, to poke and prod at each other’s faiths, to unearth both memories of joy and of sorrow, to push our sleeves up and bare our metaphorical scars for each other. We have been dangerously vulnerable. We have been courageous enough to share our dreams with each other, not knowing if they will be realized. We have dared to wade through the waters of wounding together, trusting God to meet us in the process and ultimately, to bind up these wounds. And I know we are only at the beginning.

I am grateful that this program is pushing me to keep wrestling with God in the wilderness. As we seek to better understand ourselves, each other, and God, it’s inevitable that doubts and fears will rise to the surface. All of this question-raising and doubting is sacred work. It is also human work. To doubt, to struggle, to ask questions about the world around us — this is how we love our neighbors and our God, broaden our horizons, and develop empathy. This work is not only what makes us essentially human, but fundamentally humane. 

Already in my two months here, I have experienced wounding and blessing alike. Recounting for my fellows class shameful memories from my past hurts. Hearing their stories of grief hurts. Realizing, for the billionth time, how incredibly broken I am is hard. Realizing that everyone around me sees that brokenness too—and especially realizing how futile it would be to try to hide that brokenness from my Fellows class this year of all years, when we live together and see it all—is even harder. Discovering I have serious holes in my faith is unsettling and unwanted. I’ve already cried a lot here. 

But, I’m learning once again, I cannot expect to follow God, to wrestle with Him, and walk away unscathed. Spiritual growth is not possible without struggle and inquiry, so I am grateful that this program and the people in it are testing my faith, pushing me out of my comfort zone, and carrying my burdens with gentleness and grace. Out of the wounding comes the blessing. We cannot expect intimacy with God or each other without vulnerability—vulnerability that can be hard and painful. The blessing of this community in Raleigh goes hand-in-hand with the wounding. 

Thank God, God consistently chooses the scrappy, unlikely underdog to bless and favor: if he can bless all people through Jacob—the one who came out of the womb fighting and grabbing the heel of his brother Esau, the quiet and conniving son who tricked his father into giving him the inheritance meant for his brother—than why should I believe that he would not bless me, a broken sinner, too? He already has. And the same truth is yours for the taking, too. This year in Raleigh, and in all my years beyond, I want to keep wrestling with God. I want, like Jacob, to walk off, limping, to the promised land against the rising sun. I will refuse with everything in me to let Him go until He gives me a blessing. For as fiercely as I cling to God, I can be sure that His grip on me is all the stronger.

- Sarah W

october xx

Two summers ago, I traveled to Acadia National Park in Maine with my family. I’d never been that far north before and we hit a few other stops along the way (like Boston, Rhode Island, and Cape Cod) but Acadia was by far my favorite. We stayed in the Airbnb of an amazing host couple who gave us maps of the best hikes, let us borrow their bikes, and told us compelling stories of their lives. I can remember one hike we went on that led to a perfect swimming cove that was almost entirely secluded minus a family and their dogs. My sister and I swam and floated on our backs and I felt full. 

One of the books I brought on the trip to distract me from endless hours in the car was the book Daring Greatly by Brene Brown. Her work surrounds the idea of vulnerability and how to live wholeheartedly and the book speaks so clearly to this. The main theme of the book is referenced in this quote from Theodore Roosevelt, often referred to as ‘The Man in the Arena.’

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

I love that I associate the book to being in Maine. I can remember sitting on the back porch one night, in tears, confronting the ways I close myself up in an effort to feel secure. I value comfort and consistency:  in friends, environment, and routines. I think I spent a lot of my life living out of this type of mindset. Even more, I think I simply coasted a lot of the time because it was just easier that way. It meant I didn’t have to feel the hard stuff or experience anger or get my heart ripped out. But I sacrificed so much - I also missed out on authenticity in relationships and fullness of joy in the Lord. Reading this flipped that upside down; it scared me because I wanted to be in the arena, knowing great devotions, and spending myself on a worthy cause. I wanted to be ALL in.

In my opinion, we’re all in the arena whether we recognize it or not. I don’t really think we get much of a choice in that. But we do get to choose how we fight. For a long time I chose to be on the sidelines, pretending the fight that was right in front of me wasn’t happening. Like the end of the quote, I was lukewarm, never knowing defeat but never experiencing victory either. But it’s not about winning or losing. It’s about courage - the bravery to show up and be fully there. The people I admire most aren’t the ones that have it all together or the ones that say all the right things and are unfazed by hard things. The people that inspire me are the ones that bring it all to the table: their mess, shame, and doubt, yet keep up the fight. 

Bottom line, I want to try. That is the bravest thing I can do. Oh, I’ll mess up alright - again and again and again! But it won’t be for a lack of trying and of being available. Keeping up the fight and loving those around me because of what I’ve found in Jesus - that’s how I want to be remembered.

morgan

CaN sOmEbody FIx tHe GAs LiNe ovEr hErE???

Just to preface this story, I’m usually pretty laid back and have a lot of patience for unprecedented circumstances. For example, we all know that COVID has hit the world really hard, but I’m still diddle-daddling around (always wearing a mask of course)! I’m a fixer, but I know my limits. I am also thankful to know that the Lord has blessed me with the gift of adaptability, however, I’m being tested… really tested. 

At the beginning of Fellows we were thrilled to learn that all the girls would be living in a house together. I was stoked. Going from my 1940’s college house with roaches living in the walls, to a family style home in North Raleigh was an UPGRADE for me. Needless to say, I didn’t have crazy expectations, but I was in for one. The day we moved in was painless and easy. The house was beautiful and I was starting to dream about the sweet memories I would soon have during this program and with my new roommates. All was well, until I noticed a strong smell of gas as soon as I walked in the front door. I realize gas leaks are fairly common, but I also know the danger that comes along with them. I called up my friends at PSNC energy, they came out, determined there was a gas leak, and turned off the gas. 

Little did I know, the gas issue would become a whole ordeal. As I’m writing this, the gas still isn’t fixed. We’ve had more than 20 different plumbers, HVAC technicians, and gas company technicians come out to our home, only to tell us that nothing can be fixed. Until it’s fixed, we won’t have heat or hot water. Now, I’m not one to really complain about things like this, but… this seems a little extensive to say the least. I can also say that if you are reading this and feel genuinely concerned for our well being… we are fine! We have a temporary water heater and we don’t necessarily need heat right now. We will get it repaired and figured out soon… hopefully.

Behind the walls of our homes lies an incredibly intricate arrangement of pipes, wires, insulation, foundation and protection. Without the things behind the walls, a house wouldn’t function properly and it wouldn’t serve as a comfortable place to live. What is crazy about something like a gas leak, is that somewhere behind the walls, there is a tiny hole that is leaking out and causing a much larger problem. One spark, and the whole place could blow! I think we are pretty similar to houses. We put on masks and put up walls because we are afraid to let others see the incredible intricate parts of us that God has created. Sometimes we put up so many walls, that we don’t even let God in to see what’s really lying behind them. 

If we are honest with ourselves, we all have a gas leak. Some of us go through the strenuous process to fix the leak, some of us don’t do anything about it and wait for it to blow, and some of us just turn it off and ignore the problem. Hopefully, we all challenge ourselves to pick option A. It’s not easy to wait around and hope somebody else more qualified (aka God) will fix the problem. Sometimes it takes dozens of calls and months of waiting, but He’s there, He’s listening, and He loves bigger than we can handle. 

As we wait patiently for someone to come out to Havershire Dr and fix this craziness, I’m reminded of the way God’s timing is far more important than our earthly urgency. Hopefully, the gas will be fixed this Thursday, and if it’s not, I’ll let you know next blog! 

Thanks for reading,

Maddie :) 

Pre move in selfie!

Roomies minus Brooke :)

That one time we had a gas leak and sat in the street for two hours

cold tangerines

At the start of my freshman year of college I read a book by Shauna Niequist called Cold Tangerines. There are a few books I end up re-reading almost every year, and this is one that falls into that category. The premise of the book, and it’s title, comes from when Shauna writes “I want to eat cold tangerines and sing loud in the car with the windows open and wear pink shoes and stay up all night laughing…and I want my everyday to make God belly laugh, glad that He gave life to someone who loves the gift” … becoming more aware of God in the everyday and the ordinary. That’s the hope. 

The phrase ‘the newness is fading’ is one that has been thrown around pretty often this month. To be fair, it is true despite how tired I am of hearing it. Things are beginning to feel routine and consistent, and with that it can fall into feeling mundane, everything on my schedule feeling more and more like an obligation. It’s all too easy for me to perceive the mundanity as God’s absence- abandoning the idea that this everyday, common life is just as much a gift as anything else. 

When I thought about some of my favorite moments from this last month I was surprised, and confused almost, by how unexciting they all sounded on the surface: going to Bojangles after class, driving around at night with Morgan, watching Make It Or Break It with Sara, Monday nights around the dinner table, hanging out in the kitchen, sitting in the street at 11 pm, watching football, driving down Glenwood after Neighbor to Neighbor while the sun was setting and shining through the trees. So much of me wants more of the big moments, more stories that feel like they’re worth telling. But maybe that was the point of this all. I want to believe more deeply in the discipline of celebration, to see these moments with the same weight as the big ones. I want God to be “glad that He gave life to someone who loves the gift”.         

One of my favorite authors Anne Lamott wrote “Frankly, I was hoping to see more white cliffs and beaches, fewer swamps and shadows, but this was real life, the nature of things, full of both wonder and rot”. I think I could easily summarize my month in this way- more rot than wonder, spending too much time wishing for fewer shadows. Yet with each day, each boring and seemingly unimportant day, I'm trying (and failing, and trying again) to notice God’s presence in it all, and see it all worthy of celebration. All is a gift, all is joy. 

monthly music recommendations: nominal by #1 dads, hold on by yola, live well by palace, deep sea diver by briston maroney, one more second by matt berninger, jenny of the roses (live) by hiss golden messenger, alcatraz by oliver riot

— Jen

October

Month two baby! Technically month three of living in Raleigh for me! So far, October has been the month of feeling the weight of this transition. Not in an overwhelming way, but like a little gnat in my ear reminding me: I feel different. Things are different. I’m starting over. It’s taken me back to two passages - the parable of the wineskins (Luke 5:36-39) and the story of Jesus healing Bartimaeus (Mark 10:46-52) - because of how beautifully and timelessly they tell of change, giving me some language for it as well:

Change is the dance between God’s initiating sovereignty and our rarely-diminished responsibility. God completely transforms us so we can receive the new - new aspects of Him, ourselves, our tiny perceptions of the world. Oh that we would respond like blind Bartimaeus, who threw off his cloak - his source of protection, income, and identity - sprang up, and came to Jesus. Change is no-longer-blind Bartimaeus silently taking in all the colors and light of his new world, and learning to walk and live and be all over again. It’s external transitions, moves, seasons, and it’s internal shifts, realizations, convictions. It’s Jesus walking on the scene and disrupting us forever, and it’s the quiet work of God in our hearts over years. Change is the death of the old, reception of the new, the pruning of the unfruitful. Change builds capacity for more.

Yet isn’t it funny how in transitions we often go back to default modes of functioning and behaving? Even knowing the necessity and eventual beauty of change, I still find myself hiding behind old, damaging habits. Mainly people-pleasing. All my life seeking people’s approval seemed like what worked or would protect me. It’s so engrained that I even confuse it with godly ways of loving people! In the past I’ve gotten away with it, but this time the Lord won’t let me. Through other people graciously calling out my inauthenticity, and the unsettling question of, “Well if most of my life I’ve just been whatever I thought people wanted, who even am I?”, God is gently convicting me and calling me deeper. He’s too kind to let me live this way, even when I stupidly and stubbornly want to.

To close, I think this is all just one big subjective attempt to say, this is me. I’ve been stripped of all that I could cling to or hide behind, and am trying to throw off any old, unfruitful, or unauthentic ways of living. Clothed in Christ yet incredibly exposed. Isn’t this how it should be? It’s in these places where God opens us up to receive more of Him. It’s in these places where what lasts will hold.

Questions and Quotes –

• Between self-assertion and self-abandonment, what’s your default?

• “So, uh, you play the beautiful game? Bros? Brothers? Brethren?” - Viola Hastings

• Who or what makes you feel safe?

• “When someone loves you, truly loves you, it’s not because they don’t know who you are. No, it is because the person does know exactly who you are and what you are like, and still loves you. Truth and grace are vital if love is to be meaningful...Love does not exist in the absence of judgment; true love exists when someone has passed the correct moral judgment on who you are and is under no illusions as to what you’re like, but still loves you.” - Michael Ramsden

• What have you been taught about your appearance? Who taught you that?

• “I just kept thinking, ‘Tom was right.’ It just wasn’t me you were right about” - Summer Finn

– Brooke

Trying to ENGAGE during Engagement.

By: Maddie Dreffer

I am so thankful that I am finally starting the fellows and I am so excited to learn and dive into this community. Late July, I got engaged and figured out quickly that I would be torn between two worlds during this program. I think a lot of people usually would feel defeated if this was them, but I was ready for the challenge. I was expecting to feel like I was going to be the one controlling this aspect of my life. I thought that it was up to me what I chose and what I chased after daily. What I didn’t expect was how difficult and how out of control I would become. The Lord took over and showed me how intentional He has been with the way things have come together. This is my story and this is what the Lord’s plans are for me. I am so content with this community and I am so grateful to invite my Raleigh people into this community!

This is Neil! He means a lot to me and I want everyone to get a glimpse into life with him!

Raleigh be the city and I believe it! Ready for so many adventures!

If September was this good, I can't wait for the rest!

Trey Holsten

I technically started my Fellows journey in late August when I arrived at the “Frat House” that all of the guy Fellows are living in this year. Upon arriving to the house I quickly realized it will be the nicest house I live in for a very long time. My mom, who helped drive me down to Raleigh from Richmond, was amazed by it. While not everyone had arrived, I was already excited that we would all be living together. And later that night the guys in the house were teaching me to play Catan so I felt the closeness of the group early. The next night we all got Mexican food and got to ride in Stephen’s Tesla that can’t turn well but does go fast. Over the weekend, the rest of the guys living in the house arrived and we all got to know each other. We played lots of basketball, Catan, and Xbox. We got to know the girls that weekend when they came over to our house to play volleyball, visit the pool, and just hangout.

Later that week we got to know people at the church and then headed off to Lake Gaston, a place close to my heart. For the next couple days we would get to go through the Fellows policies, devotions, and really just get to know each other better. It was apparent within the first day that the group got along really well. We continued to grow closer and share many laughs throughout the week. I am very thankful for who God placed in the program this year. I am sure we’ll get tired of each other at times but ultimately I think the group will be awesome. Later in the week we took the boat out and even passed Camp Willow Run and saw Luke and Nic, my friends from camp. It was a good day and an amazing week!

The next week was a week of many firsts. The Saturday night after our orientation retreat, we had our first dinner with our host families. My host family, the Patels, were so fun and right away I felt at home in their house. I am very much looking forward to being with them every Tuesday night for dinner and also talking to Alpesh, my mentor. Later that week I started my first day of work at Turas (T-U-R-A-S). Tyler is my manager and he was great at teaching me about what Turas does and what I would be doing for Turas. He quickly began teaching me how to do sales calls for them. Gentry is also working there and has helped me immensely get acclimated. I am worried I could struggle at times with cold calls and all of the rejection in it but I think being surrounded by a group of coworkers that glorify Jesus in their work will help. It is amazing to see a company that incorporates faith into everything they do. Thursday, we had our first round table and Ashley and Sam shared their testimonies. I am so glad that Ashley is running our program and I hope that I can someday have a relationship similar to theirs. On Friday morning I shared my testimony first and was very happy with how it went. It was a bit shorter than everybody else who has shared but I still think it went well. The first week was a great start to the routine.

Since then we have settled more into the schedule of the program. We stay very busy throughout the week but I believe that is something I will continue to appreciate it. I love that even when we have free time we are trying to do activities together instead of just staying home. These activities have included Monday golf at Knights Play, a trip to a Durham food truck, an observation deck in downtown Raleigh, and a trip to the batting cage. And whenever anybody in the group is going to do something they are excited to invite the rest of the group. I truly think this is going to be one of the best communities I have ever been a part of.

Over the next month I hope to continue to grow closer to those in and around the program. I hope that God can help guide me to my best place in Turas. I also hope to meet with my friends that live around Raleigh regularly and develop those relationships too. If every month is like this first month it is going to be a great year in the Raleigh Fellows Program!

Who’s got the Spiritual Jumper Cables?

Hello There! Gentry Williamson here. To begin with a little disclaimer I absolutely hate writing, grammar, and spelling but thank God I can addd and multipli! 

The beginning of fellows has been a long awaited moment in my life. For years now I have known of the program, looked up to people who went through it, and was strongly encouraged to look into it upon graduating college. This summer in Raleigh it was almost all I could think about, besides a little stress from summer classes. Lucky for me no one ever asked me if I actually graduated!! 

Looking back on this past month all I can think about is how I truly believe I am right in the exact position the Lord wants me. A true sense of peace is all I can feel when I begin to process this last month, and the new situations I have been thrown into. Growing up I have always longed for more, for deeper, more joy-fulfilling relationships, time, and adventures, and that is exactly where I have found myself. 

James 4:8 states, “Draw near to God and he will draw near to you.” I have positioned myself in an environment where my proximity to the Lord has increased tenfold. I am surrounded by individuals and people who have profoundly deeper connections and relationships with our Savior that I have longed to possess for years. I have strived, challenged, and pushed myself to get to this place for many years and yet have always came up short. This past month my entire process of obtaining this deep relationship has been completely obliterated and I have been left with: “draw near to me.” 

The Lord has already shown up in so many ways! Through my relationships with my fellow Fellows, sponsor family conversations, and talks with Ashley. The spiritual aspect that has been lacking from a large part of my walk with Christ has been introduced and demonstrated to me from so many people. I am full of questions, open to new ideas, and have never felt the spirit in my soul more consistently than throughout this past month. I am truly honored and excited to have been allowed this opportunity to embark upon this journey and I am looking forward to seeing what the Lord has next. 

G

Being Comfortable with Being Uncomfortable

No matter what sport I was playing, I was always told “to get to the next level you have to learn to be comfortable with being uncomfortable”. Being innately security focused yet also achievement driven, I found this forced me into conflict with myself.  How do I challenge myself, take risks, and jump feet first into the unknown while also trying to prevent failure at the same time? In all of my years of competitive sports I never found a way to balance the two.  Rather I learned that failure, pain, and loss are all inevitable facts of life.  My hope for these 9 months is that I will learn to sit in the discomfort, the disappointments and the suffering and simply listen. That in those moments I would seek God’s voice and direction before my own and I wouldn’t be fearful of being ‘undone’, but instead would see the beauty in the pruning. (s/o John 15)  

I don’t know what the next 9 months hold for me and if I am fully transparent that uncertainty scares me.  This is the first time in my life where I don’t have an end goal or an expectation of performance. The fellows program will simply be what I make it.  If I take the advice of our family systems professor the only goal I should really have for myself is to follow these six stones: sitting, experiencing, tolerating, holding, voice, and walking (I am calling these the six stones to survival).  To sit and listen, experience God in the everyday and the mundane, to tolerate the big and small frustrations (or my roommate Morgan’s aggressive sarcasm - with love of course ;) ), hold each other’s delicate memories and stories, give voice to the gospel, and to walk on the path with God.   

Sara Cliborne

Bad Grammar Decent Content

Part of being a Raleigh Fellow means aggressively assimilating into a new community of strangers so that we can really get to the good stuff in our short 9 months. Often this means questions, and a lot of them: “What are you passionate about?”, “What’s your family like?”, “Who has made the biggest impact on you?”, “What scares you?”, etc. That last one, “what scares you?”, is interesting. My answer, when asked, was something along the lines of loneliness. Getting somewhere in life, looking back and realizing that I’ve made few lasting and deep connections. I have a desire in the here and now to be with people. Above most other things I value getting to know people and having them know me in return. Being with people for me represents some sort of comfort, probably because it mitigates the chances of ending up in that lonely state I mentioned. So here’s the point: if I want to be with so bad, “why am I often scared of and running from time with God?”

This summer I led a couple weeks of a bible study with college friends and I decided on John 15. We had all been fighting the monotony of life during coronavirus, questioning what our responsibilities as Christians were during a time when it felt impossible to go and reach people (mostly high school students for us) with the news of the Gospel. We felt weird not knowing what it was that we could be doing for God. John 15 paints a different picture of what following Jesus is. Jesus says “Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.” This is the expectation that I needed to get through my head. Stop living to do things for God but instead remain and do things with him. 

Here is where it gets funny: that being with God scares me. In relationships with people I can still hide. I can hide my feelings, my motives, my thoughts, my insecurities, you name it. But with God I’m exposed, and while every single time it’s a good thing that God exposes me I can’t stop myself from running from it, running from being with God. By that I mean being truly with God in the way that He expects. I spend time with Him on my schedule, when the expectation is walking beside him step for step as the disciples did. The plea from Him is remainder but my comfort is found more in treating Him as a dinner guest who comes and goes on my invite. 

What is the point of this blog post? I truly pray that it is to the glory of God (John 15:8) because the way God hasn’t allowed me to escape this scripture has been the biggest blessing of 2020 for me. After revealing this truth of my lack of withness I was planning a trip out west with guys I led through Young Life and as I prayed it was clear John 15 was going to be our main scripture for the week. Then our director Ashley asked us to give a favorite scripture for which I said John 15, because I guess the scariest scripture is the best for me. Which I then had to talk about why I had picked it at our beginning of the year retreat. And then the next morning at the retreat we read John 15 as a group and identified it as a focusing scripture for our year together. Next, when we got home and the first lesson assigned to us as youth group leaders was John 15. Maybe that’s all a coincidence. Or maybe God’s pursuit is just the coolest most undeniable thing in the world. I think it’s the second.

Jeb Bowie

You Don't Call Where You Won't Lead

Hello everyone, my name is Austin. I am a Chicagoan/Texan (what a combo), love the science stuff, and I am utterly heartbroken. Oh, is that too much to start off with? Yeah, it certainly felt that way to me too when I had to start meeting everyone here: “Hi fellow fellows! Can’t wait for this fun year with y’all! Oh, by the way, you should know I have some fresh wounds that are inflicting a lot of pain right now, so please help me through that.” Nothing like starting brand new friendships to immediately ask them to help carry my burdens. 

For those tuning in that don’t know a lot about my story, I apologize. Most of that above probably doesn’t make much sense. While I don’t think a blog accessible to anyone with an internet connection is the place to share my entire story, I’ll just let you know I am wrestling with a lot of relational brokenness right now in several areas, and if you’d like to hear more about my story, look around for the front-tooth-missing, hillbilly-looking fellow who can’t pronounce his S’s. Happy to share more about all that in per(th)on. 

Essentially, my fragile, clay heart was sent crashing to the floor just before getting here, so I’ve had to meet my new COTA community with my heart shattered into a million pieces. It has forced me to desperately cling to the Cross more than ever before, so for that I feel blessed. I have the utmost confidence that the Spirit will be doing some radical transformations within me through this season (assuming I draw nearer to the Lord through it, not trying to evade pain). Plenty of lessons in how God uses suffering that I could go on and on about (see my seemingly endless list of quotes below). But as God is starting that healing process in me, I am often left feeling more reserved, hollow, volatile, and somber than I’ve ever known myself to be. It’s painful and frustrating to meet people knowing they aren’t getting an accurate representation of me. 

Thus, the challenge (and blessing) of September for me has been vulnerability. I know I am in need of comfort and support from community. But I’m often having to overcome this distorted, quid-pro-quo view of love to ask for help. Since I haven’t done anything to love and encourage all these people here, I feel like I don’t deserve their help with what I’m going through. Another obstacle to my being open was the fear that I was hijacking conversation to make it all about me when I was having a moment. But God has been nudging me to take that leap of faith and hope they will extend a helping hand during this time. I really don’t have any other option. I cannot do this on my own. 

Originally, I gave a short mention that I was going through some things to the whole group and then confided in a few people. I then used my testimony as the opportunity to lay out the most painful moments of my life to the group. It was exhausting but such a relief getting everyone on the same page as to why I am feeling off. And the response from the group has been so gracious. To those reading that are helping me this season (you know who you are), thank you. You are a blessing that for which I will always be grateful. 

No matter how hard I try to pull myself out of this season, I can’t. This is a painful act of surrender. All that’s left is to sit in this discomfort and trust in His faithfulness. There is something beautiful on the way. I’m sure of it. In the meantime, if you see me around and feel comfortable doing so, I’d really appreciate a hug. I’ll probably need it. 

For the Love,

Austin Kinne

A long list of lyrics/quotes that I have been resonating with lately: 

“There has been a lot of groaning going around lately. It seems to be coming from every direction. I guess it is true that ‘each one of us sits beside a pool of tears.’ And it is so hard to watch the groaners groan and the mourners mourn and the strugglers struggle and not be able to do anything but pray. It is so tempting to try and come to the rescue, but rescue is not really possible, or even preferable. Because something much deeper is going on. In the words of Gerald May, ‘There is no way out, only through.’ Something deep and wonderful happens in the going through. So we must resist the urge to provide an escape – if that were even possible- because the struggle, or the groaning, or the grief, or the pain is the very thing that is able to do a beautiful work within us. All there is for us to do is trust. Trust that God is really in control. Trust that God is really up to something, in spite of all appearances. Trust that God really is big enough to sustain, to comfort, to deliver, to heal, and ultimately to transform. Trust that through the fire and through the water lies a place of abundance.”

— Watch and Wait by Jim Branch

“Like Jesus in the garden
Won’t You take this cup from me?
But like Jesus in the garden
You don’t call where You won’t lead
I wanna love like You love, wanna bleed like You bleed”

— Don’t Wanna Go by Chris Renzema

“God is working through hardship to pry open our hands and loosen our hearts from our tight grip on the here and now. He’s working to release us from the hope that this present world will ever be the paradise that our hearts long for. He’s employing suffering to produce in our hearts a deep and motivating longing for a much, much better home, the eternal home that’s the promise of his grace to us all.”

— Paul David Tripp

“There’s nowhere to go
There’s nothing to say
I’m feeling trapped with no escape
I wanna be well
I wish I could change
There’s nowhere to hide
Where you feel safe
At the bottom of a heartbreak”

— Bottom of a Heartbreak by NEEDTOBREATHE

“Many of us are tempted to think that if we suffer, the only important thing is to be relieved of our pain. We want to flee it at all costs. But when we learn to move through suffering, rather than avoid it, then we greet it differently. We become willing to let it teach us. We even begin to see how God can use it for some larger end. Suffering becomes something other than a nuisance or curse to be avoided at all costs, but a way into deeper fulfillment. Ultimately mourning means facing what wounds us in the presence of the One who can heal.”

— Turn My Mourning Into Dancing by Henri J.M. Nouwen

“I’ve been battling a broken heart
Everybody knows I’m torn apart
Since I was eight years old and I thought that
God was a girl in my school
If we can wind up on a sandy beach
Breathin’ air that only death can reach
And singing songs that only heaven leaves
It’s okay with me”

— Mercy’s Shore by NEEDTOBREATHE

“Grapes become wine only when they have been squeezed.”

— My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers

“It’s kinda like a light went off
And now you’re deadset on giving me up
Talking like we’re so far gone and
There ain’t no use stitching it up
We could do the long haul
We could ride it out
I know the ride’s rough, but try us
You’re just thinking ‘bout tomorrow
I’m just thinking ‘bout love”

— Thinking ‘bout Love by Wild Rivers

“Jesus has nails; Paul has a thorn. Both the cross and the thorn are instruments of weakness through which God pours his power.”

— The J-Curve by Paul Miller

“Oh, I know your heart is tired
The floods and the fire
Have made this seem all too far gone
Oh, I know your heart is broken
But the last words I’ve spoken
The best is still yet to come”

— 17 by Chris Renzema

Sleepless in Seattle (1993)

First, happy (belated) 20th anniversary of Switchfoot’s great album, Learning to Breathe.

Second, my goal for this is to make all of my titles correspond with a movie title.

Third, I can’t sleep well. I haven’t been able to off and on for years, but it’s gotten worse since I made the move to Raleigh. I wrote some thoughts on this the other day, and I really think processing (a word I’ve heard more in the past three weeks than ever before in my life) through it a bit has helped slightly. So here are my thoughts:

What keeps me up at night? Is it anxiety about unknown things, or worry about what may come tomorrow? Is it that feeling that I don’t belong, that I’m an imposter, a fraud? Could it be that embarrassing thing I’m remembering from years ago or that stupid comment I made today that no one gave a second thought? Some nights it’s nothing. I lie awake staring at the ceiling with my mind totally blank. These evenings are the most troubling. I often say aloud, “Lord, please just let me sleep!” But the clock ticks on. I have tried to pray to pass the time, but presently I seem unable to pray much without my mind racing and getting distracted. I find the only thing that comforts me is the old prayer, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” I say it for hours until sleep comes at last. I am now suddenly aware of my brokenness and reminded of Jesus’ words, “Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” What must it take for my stubborn heart to believe this? How many times will I try and fail to find rest through means of my own?

How easily they talk about prayer, those who have never really prayed. - Reverend Ernst Toller, First Reformed (2018) (dir. Paul Schrader)

Cheers,

Cam

oof

Hey! I’m Tommy Rychener, I’m from Arizona, I recently moved to North Carolina, and I like trees a lot. If you have not yet had the pleasure of visiting the Southwest, I definitely recommend. I may be biased but the Sonoran Desert is truly beautiful. Cacti, mountains, and sunsets you would not believe. But, after living in the desert for 22 years, I was ready for some trees! I love green lawns and tall timber and it’s unfortunately difficult to come by when the city you live in averages a high of 109.8 degrees for an entire month, so my first few weeks here have turned every moment I spent outside into a moment of embarrassing, childlike wonder at the vegetation along the highway. 

But, in the process of moving to a new state and forging new relationships, a lot was left behind. C.S. Lewis seems to arrange words of the English language into ways which transcend simple thought, and speak to the core of us broken humans. Although I am usually a fan of these quotes, I find they sometimes strike too close to home much like his quote from The Four Loves. “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one….  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.… The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.” Leading up to my move across the country, I found myself distancing, isolating, and retreating from the joys of this world. I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time, but I was bracing for impact, the impact of loss. I was, for the first time, going to have to say goodbye to my childhood best friends who had truly become brothers to me over our last 15 years together. I was going to leave my parents and sisters, who had walked with me through every peak and every valley this life has thrown at me. I was going to be leaving comfort, safety, and control for the first time in a very long time, and let me tell you, I was doing my best to avoid that loss. But just like Lewis said, hiding from the loss also means hiding from the joy. My heart had grown stale, my soul weary, and my life was no longer the joyful reflection of Christ in me. Sure I had done a great job not experiencing months of grief, but I did an even better job not experiencing months of happiness. 

And then I moved. Packed up my truck and left AZ. Said goodbye to my family and looked toward new adventures, secretly hoping the searing pain of loss and grief would stay in the heat of Arizona and let me start fresh. But that’s not how life works, that’s not how the heart works, and that’s not how God works. He is not interested in preventing pain, but redeeming it. And I can not completely articulate how incredible and awful that is to hear. But like Lewis said, “Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken”. Without heartbreak, there can be no true love. What paradoxically terrifying and hopeful news that is. The biggest of oofs that God has so wonderfully designed for us. 

september xx

hi! Today I told my life story to the other fellows, and in the process of processing it (haha) I felt like I got to really look at the ways that the Lord has worked in my life. In some ways, the things I’ve never understood became ways the Lord has transformed me. I think that there are things that will happen to us in our lives and we will never understand their purpose. I think that’s part of the Lord’s intentional design. This side of heaven there will be parts of God that I won’t understand. That’s the painful, beautiful, exasperating crux of it all. More simply, that’s faith. And the times that I want to run from that are the times that he’s asking me to lean into it. The Lord is constantly asking me this: 

“Morgan, will you lean in? Will you lean into me? Will you be all in with me?”

I think he’s asking us all this. I’m often too distracted, too busy, and not attentive to my need for the Lord to hear it. I still don’t truly know how to sit at Jesus’ feet and not try to rush around, earning his love that he never asked me to strive for. I think this will be the battle of my life. And it is a battle, a constant and never-ending fight to not give into this world and all of the shiny things competing for my soul. And I have to fight it with all I have. Every. Single. Day. And some days we might lose the battle. But Jesus wins the war. And because he died on the cross, we are counted victorious too. And that’s the difference. The more I try to understand His extravagant love and mercy and grace, the more I want to know him. And spending time in his presence is the result of that. 

My deepest, most fervent prayer for fellows is I seek this first. YEEHAW!

To this year (9 months):

Here in Raleigh-town!

This time has been long-awaited, yet loosely anticipated.

Already, already

I feel that this is the place.

Not of anything that I’ve done. Not of the things I could do.

Not even of the people I’m surrounded by that hold my heart and its contents so carefully.

But the Lord is here. He is evident, profound.

Waiting, always waiting for me to sit still with him.

And he is using me?

He is, 

Using me.

Xoxo,

Morgan