House on the Rock

 It was a week full of uncertainty - sickness, pending Covid tests, disrupted travel plans, and trying to make the most of virtual school. My boyfriend told me he felt super scatterbrained but, as far as I could tell, had no concrete reason why. I attributed it to symptomatic roommates, teaching through a pandemic, and trying to navigate the weirdness of a Covid-ridden world. However, his scatterbrained-ness took shape on a cold Friday evening when he was supposed to come over and showed up approximately four hours late. I was a bit confused and concerned by his distance but didn't figure we were nearing a breakup, especially considering the recent closeness and deep-rooted love of the past couple weeks. The only other logical explanation was that he was hiding some sort of massive question that was about to change the course of our lives forever. I assumed that was the case and went on my way, decorating for Christmas and de-stressing after student teaching. When he finally arrive...

2020- What. A. Year. It has been a rollercoaster filled with more uncertainty, anxiety, and tension than any year I have experienced. Yet, God in his goodness, once again, revealed more of himself and blessed me with gifts grander that I ever could have dreamed up on my own.  Like I said last year, "one of my favorite ways to praise God is to reflect on His faithfulness, so I'm composing a flyover recap of [2020]...mostly for my own sake, and yours too if you're bored." So here we go. January: The year started off with a bang, and by bang I mean agreeing to date the man of my dreams at 2:00 in the morning just hours before my plane left for Nepal. In an eleven-day whirlwind (that you've probably read about twice by now), we decided we might be compatible and figured it was safer to secure the package before spending a month on opposite sides of the world. Then, I took off on a 16-hour flight to Nepal to learn about the gut-wrenching injustice of human trafficking ...

My finite mind feels too small and too incapable to even begin to grasp the magnitude of the gospel. In moments of extreme pride, extreme selfishness, and overwhelming indifference to sin, I realize that I am once again dismissive of the reality that I was died for by a perfect person sent in the likeness of sinful flesh. But as I try to comprehend what has been deemed incomprehensible love, it is only helpful to try to understand the betrayal that Jesus endured so that I might eternally abide with him.  As I put it into terms I can somewhat understand, I think about shattered marriages. There are very few things in life that cause me to hurt for another human like the stories of broken vows due to a cheating spouse. The pain causes me to feel deep pity and compassion for the person abandoned, swelling with a ruthless hatred of the force that could dare to divide such a lasting covenant. I would think that there is very little that compares to the feeling of the person who was sup...

I woke up today, or last night, rather, feeling as though i’d been asleep for hours. Eyes glued shut, I found myself wrestling through whether or not it was worth going to war with insomnia and trying to fall back asleep or just resigning myself to abide with the dawn, dragging myself out of shelter and into the weary arctic world because my roommate can only sleep with the window open. When I finally decided it best to check the time and make an informed decision, I was disturbed to find the tall white numbers on my phone flashing 10:46, meaning I had been asleep for just over an hour and a half. So now what? Do I battle this tension for the next eight hours or pray I can fall back asleep before the Keurig roars like a train engine and my  roommate shakes her Oatmilk coffee creamer to the tune of a filled-to-the-brim barf bag sloshing on a plane? It’s a sound I’ll probably never forget, sharing the same 10x10 basement rug with two girls from college who fall asleep before the sun...

  Twenty-two this year, with a few habits I’ve let go and a few I’m still clinging to. Things I thought would be gone by now: nail-biting, people pleasing, sometimes having an imaginative car-ride concert where I am singing backup for Taylor Swift, not missing a single “oh oh oh” because it's the same one I’ve been singing since Fifteen was released, and I was ten then and fifteen felt so far away, but now it’s even farther behind me than it once was ahead. When I was ten, twenty-two felt like the year I would have it all together. The year I would graduate college, get married, move out of my parents house and into my own, start my own job, maybe write a book, certainly have life all figured out. And some of that will quite likely occur, while some of that I pray happens soon. But there’s something about twenty-two that feels like the walking in between: It’s the planning for a wedding but also calling my mom to ask whether styrofoam can be microwaved. It’s the buying a car but pa...

It was a dismal drive down State Road 32 following the phone call that uprooted my hopes and dreams for the semester. Washington Township Schools, where I had been placed for my first student  teaching experience, has just made the decision to go fully virtual due to COVID-19. Thought not altogether shocking, they were the first in the state to do so and I was devastated. I pictured myself sitting alone in a cold cement basement (not sure whose) desperately trying to scribble on the concrete-wall-turned-whiteboard while my joints grew stiff with Zoom-laden arthritis. All I wanted was to connect with  students and now, my relationships would be resigned to blank stares and black screens. Mourning. I cried a lot of tears in Pastor Terry's office, then my dad's office, then Pastor Jeff's office... (perks of an internship surrounded by trained Biblical counselors) (thanks guys) and felt so angry that God would allow such big dreams to be so suddenly dashed. I hated Zoom. I thou...

"Martha, Martha,"  the Lord replied, "You are worried about many things, but few things are truly necessary - in fact, only one. Mary has chosen what is better. She has chosen what will not be taken away from her" (Luke 10:41-42). A guest is coming over today. There's so much to be done. So many things to clean and endless errands to be run. I have to sweep, to set the table, to dust and mop the floor, to fold laundry, to pick up clothes and groceries from the store. A guest is on his way today, I see him right outside - I have vegetables that still need washed and fish that still need fried. My sister should be here to help, today she's quite frustrating. The whole time I've been hard at work, she's been sitting outside waiting. So eager for our guest to come, and yes, I'm eager too - but why won't she just recognize how much there is to do? A guest is making his way in. I am not ready yet. The floor is not quite fully swept, the table not q...

I could sing of Your love forever your grace that set me free your relentless pursuit of my wayward soul - willing to fight for me. I could sing of the way  you saw  me at my worst and yet still, reached out your hand drew me in to Your firm foundation, a solid place to stand. I could sing of the times  that I turned my back yet you never left my side. I deserve to dwell in the depths of Hell but you give me your Vine to abide.  God, I was so far from You I wanted nothing to do with your word Then I was sung your gospel of mercy -  the most beautiful song I have heard. My relentless desire to sin met your unwavering passion to save and the flesh-serving heart of my past was sentenced to life in the grave. Now I walk in Your way everlasting -  my soul longs to gaze at your face No longer to stare at the sin that entices O thank you my God for  your grace. 

I am currently living in Fishers, Indiana while I complete my student teaching. Which, by  the way, is taking place virtually  due to the global pandemic. Which, by the way, is lasting way, WAY longer than I ever would have wanted or expected. I'm so stinking bummed. Constantly  fighting discontentment, longing for a classroom filled with students, questioning how the Lord's goodness could be at hand when  social distancing drives wedges in learning and the mental health of students takes hit after hit and everyone's going crosseyed from hours of staring at a screen. It feels like the storm is dragging with no end in sight. One day last week, I came home after eight hours of Zoom school and went for a run. Desperate to move my stiff and aching joints, I decided to try out a new path that wove through the suburban neighborhoods of Fishers.  I had no map, no GPS, no phone, no idea of where I was headed. I figured the neighborhood was probably just one big loop and...

(Wrote this for a staff meeting devotional for my internship @ RP and thought I'd share- This is challenging my  heart today and everyday!!!!!!) I remember flying over the Himalayas for the first time. Captivating. A massive expanse. Seemingly eternal ranges with peaks nearly parallel to my window seat on a small propeller plane.   I marveled at it, breathless, speechless, lost for words… and then about two minutes later I had returned to my Sudoku puzzle, drifting in and out of sleep, unfazed, occasionally flipping through some pictures in my phone. A girl in my aisle who didn’t have the window seat leaned over and said, “I can’t believe we’re flying over the Himalayas and you’re playing Sudoku.” Embarrassed at first, I was actually shocked by my actions. How did I become indifferent so quickly? How did I go from such awe to such numbness where a Sudoku puzzle grasped my mind more than the divinely spoken Himalayas?     I think this is the danger I so easily run int...

For seven months now, I have been lovin’ A man who does not ever preheat the oven. A man who spends months thinking about thanksgiving, Delivers food on his bike for a small summer living. He’ll sing in the car, he’ll call without warning, He’ll make his bed first thing in the morning. He loves watching chiropractors work on YouTube And can quickly complete an entire rubix cube. He talks about math and he knows long division, He doesn’t shy away from making big decisions. We have had over a year’s worth of talks, Deep and life-giving, on sunny trail walks. His heart is pure and his motives sincere- He’s the only person I’ve ever heard pop his ear. He’s an athlete, he sings, he’s dreamy and smart, He giggles when I accidentally fart. He writes me sweet poems, he plans picnic dates, He never gets mad when I always run late. He’s humble, not stingy, flirty and sweet, He’s always excited and MAN, can he eat. He brings out my best side, pushes me to ...

My heart sings a melody but last week it was stone Today it's a chorus where it once sat alone For so long I was grouchy, embittered by pride I couldn't find joy no matter how hard I tried Jesus felt far my faith felt abandoned but He took my hand, said I won't leave you stranded Perhaps my own blinders were blocking my view- God, forgive my too-small scope of you! The bigger you became, so the fuller my heart and the smaller the gap I felt keep us apart You must become greater, I must become less I've lived out the opposite, Lord, this I confess How much fuller and grander this whole world could be with a lot more of you and a lot less of me

I'm a wanderer, God, I feel it my heart yearns to run away But you take one gentle glance at me and summon that I stay So often I convince myself that sin will satisfy but you take your child by the arms - you walk with me side by side You do not hate me, never God, but you do hate sin which is why you redirect with loving discipline. I think, "God, you must hate me so!" You tell me that's not true. "I'll never hate you, child, but I hate what's hurting you. Your sin may seem enticing for a brief, deceitful minute but before long, you're empty and convinced you'll be stuck in it. My heart for you, my precious child, can't bear to leave you lost - which is why my arms don't stiff-arm sinners, but stretch to pay sin's cost. I'll never let the pit of sin become your helpless home. So my arms will redirect you every single time you roam."

We opted for Starbucks on an uncharacteristically warm Sunday in December. I greeted him with a warm handshake because I had no idea what else to do and I had never felt more nervous for anything in my life. I ordered my usual; he already had his drink. Conversation went far beyond TFA - we talked about life and teaching and what brought him to Wabash and how his professor was my assistant soccer coach and his assistant baseball coach was my dentist. We talked about trips and hometowns and school and I realized his eyes were the color of blue that I always said was my favorite but never knew how to describe. I was floored by his kindness and willed the date (?) (business meeting? informational TFA appointment?) to last a little longer. Eventually, we wrapped up our conversation, ended with a side hug, and headed for our homes. The goodbye was ambiguous: would I call him? would he call me? I told him we'd wait and see, and it was Christmas Eve when he texted and asked if I was...

Joe House does not wait for the oven to pre-heat before putting his frozen pizza in, because if it's already slightly warmer inside the oven, why keep the pizza in a cold kitchen? I think that is the only logical explanation as to why he asked me to be his girlfriend after only knowing each other for eleven days. Even though our story technically starts at the beginning of of that eleven-day frenzy, for me, it started almost a year prior. I found a free afternoon at the tail end of spring break and went to a Wabash baseball game to hang with my friend, Tucker, whose brother was a freshman on the team. Tucker kicked back and chugged a half-gallon of chocolate milk while the announcer called the next at bat: #42, a senior catcher who swaggered up to home plate to the rhythm of a walk-up song that changed my world: I've got an old church choir singing in my soul, I've got a sweet salvation and it's beautiful. It was a song I'd heard dozens of times but never eve...

It's week 8. I've ridden more miles on a dusty Walmart bike than I've ever ridden in my life and with every mile I become a little more convinced that I'm probably tour-de-France material despite still falling over on every dismount and being lapped by eighty-year-old Monon Trail Riders who indubitably have more arthritis than I have years of life. That was meant to applaud them but it sounded more like an insult, nonetheless, it's crazy what a community has formed on these trails because it is pretty much the only thing we are allowed to do. I've been a regular at the Sugar Creek Trail since I was in the baby carrier that Mom towed behind her bike, along with seven Thanksgiving Day Pie Runs and about a million walks later, you'd think I would know the trail well. But something about this Spring has Lilly and I convinced that the Parks Department is adding some new landmark every night when the gates are closed. Maybe it's because there's less pollut...

It's approximately week 5 of the quarantine and I haven't smelled fresh air in 427 days. I'm kidding,  but some days this feels like it is probably true. Some days the weather is unexplainably nice for early  April and I sit outside and soak up the sun and go for long walks and smile at my neighbors  and exist in a pleasant state of bubble-like bliss where I nearly forget that anything is wrong in the world. But then there are the days when the temperature ferociously plummets below 40 and snow falls like ice and my whole body feels enraged, entrapped, discouraged, and desperate for an escape. We wear hand-sewn masks over our faces as we sit in the Kroger parking lot and wait to pick up Mom's grocery order and we check our news sources every morning to see whether we've hit our peak of the pandemic. It's truly the weirdest time of my life: more family game nights than I've ever had in my life, online classes that make me publicly celebrate my parents for o...

We’re just under two weeks into this global quarantine and morale is at an all-time low, which God in his goodness is turning to quite an unforeseeable high. The rain flooded our neighborhood that sits in a runoff valley just south of a soybean field, and the misplaced dirt and debris that was carried with the floodwater has dotted our yard with the most joyful-looking soybean-runoff confetti I’ve ever seen. It’s amazing what will excite you when you’ve been in total isolation for twelve days. Week one was relatively easy - I had a mile-long to-do list thanks to tasks like 1.) unpack dorm, 2.) turn the storage room in the moldy basement into a makeshift bedroom because Mom and Dad were not expecting me to be home so soon. 3.) complete all the fun Pinterest quarantine checklists (write a letter, bake bread, etc etc etc). Plus, I was in full-blown Doomsday Preppers mode, calculating how many rattlesnakes I would have to kill in order to suction their blood (80% water) into drinkable liq...

(Disclaimer- I so dearly appreciate everyone who is using this time of uncertainty to write meaningful, uplifting messages of hope-filled reassurance and point us all back to grounding truth through literature. I would try to do that, but a) could never do it justice and b) could never come up with anything that hasn't already been said. So yes, cling to hope, this is allowed to suck, find ways to grow, God's in control. All real. All true. I'm thankful for writers like you.) Four weeks later: The days of lunch on the ramp have come to an end that no one could have anticipated. COVID-19 came like a flood and as emails rushed like raging rapids, we hurriedly started picking up our belongings in hopes of salvaging whatever we could from the turmoil upon us.  Now, we are home. Hearts are broken, but in the words of my girl Lauren Murphy, this is a heartbreak that we can microwave and not slow-cook in a crock pot. It’s something we’re allowed to be sad about - prem...

1. I didn't know that these two blonde girls, both named Maggie, had found each other on Facebook and requested to room with each other, anticipating a room in Olson with just each other. I didn't know that they would later have a conversation over the phone about me getting added to their mix, saying cute little phrases such as, "I feel weird for that girl," and "this is so awkward that she is trying to room with us." 2. I didn't know that this walk on the first of many treks among the golden cornfields lining the backdrop of an Indiana sunset. I didn't know the sunsets in Upland would be the most unbelievable splatter-painted glimpses of glory I had ever seen, and that my future college self would run to the window in hopes of seeing those explosive-color skies. 3. I didn't know that we would be, in essence, each other's only three friends for the entirety of our freshman year. I didn't know we would spend every Friday night drivin...

Relief eschews tidy “inspirational” writing that represses the troublesome and complex dimensions of our lives. Instead we are dedicated to human flourishing through literature.  To turn away from so-called inspirational writing feels countercultural to the crux of Christian literature. So often in Christian circles, we pass around all-too-predictable fiction pieces and expect readers to be surprised when the ending is exactly the same: the prodigal child returns home, the criminal accepts Christ, the marriage is saved. In Relief, we celebrate writing that embraces the harsh realities of this broken world.  We are learning to welcome stories where the addict dies of an overdose and there is nothing redemptive except for the fact that his little sister can fold his laundry as a final recognition of his miserable existence. We marvel at works that depict a young boy who longs to shoot his way out of his father’s home; not because the story is tidy or traditional but bec...

I see a child running uphill through winding mountain streets donned in clothes as white as snow with nothing on her feet. She laughs as her hair blows backward silklike as flags in the wind looking behind her and laughing as she's chased by a jubilant friend. I only saw her for a moment but I'll always carry this plea - Oh Lord my God, protect this girl I pray she is always that free. I pray she is always running uphill and never once being dragged down I pray that her clothes stay snowlike until they are woven into her wedding gown. I pray the ones that are chasing her will always be innocent friends and the only time that she ever feels trapped is when they are playing pretend. I'll smile when I think of that child as pure and playful as can be and I'll pray every day that is how she will stay - I pray she is always that free.