Showing posts with label lancaster. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lancaster. Show all posts
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Another Moving Day
Friday I left my little closet bedroom in Lancaster city and moved to my fifth home in the past year. (Indiana, Rosedale, Lancaster with the Weis family, then with Hannah and Melody, and now Cockeysville.)
I don't think this will be a long post because I really have nothing else to say. I miss Lancaster, and love it so deeply.
The end.
I don't think this will be a long post because I really have nothing else to say. I miss Lancaster, and love it so deeply.
The end.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Why Must The Curtains Close?
Why must seasons end? Why must straight roads turn? Why must the curtains close? Why must the credits roll?
Will the tears ever end? Must as soon as I stop crying about one thing, I begin to cry over something else? Why did I ever ask God to soften me, and pierce me, and let my blood flow?
Can't it be another way? Why would I move here and love here to be yanked away from it?
Today, I walked the city street one last time. Streets that I have often walked in prayer. I walked by the fence that I dream about. Even before I had ever walked that section of town, I had dreams of the ghetto, and a fence. That fence. There is no bike leaning up against it, like in my dreams. At least no bike on the side that I walk past. But without a doubt, it's that fence. As I passed the fence, and continued up the street, a car came flying down the hill, and a girl was shrieking from inside. Not far behind was a police car, in pursuit. I wondered why God turned my heart to the city, why I love it so much, and why that scene didn't panic me.
Why did God bring me here, and make my soul fall in love? Why did He open doors to a place to live and a job in Cockeysville? Why did I have to walk by an apartment for rent in the city today? Why couldn't the sign have gone up tomorrow? Must I be torn like this? Why must I love so intensely a place I normally would have run from, a place that would have made me uncomfortable, a place that would make me fearful? Why must these seven months end so abruptly? Why must the curtains close?
When can I come back, God? Will You bring me back?
Will the tears ever end? Must as soon as I stop crying about one thing, I begin to cry over something else? Why did I ever ask God to soften me, and pierce me, and let my blood flow?
Can't it be another way? Why would I move here and love here to be yanked away from it?
Today, I walked the city street one last time. Streets that I have often walked in prayer. I walked by the fence that I dream about. Even before I had ever walked that section of town, I had dreams of the ghetto, and a fence. That fence. There is no bike leaning up against it, like in my dreams. At least no bike on the side that I walk past. But without a doubt, it's that fence. As I passed the fence, and continued up the street, a car came flying down the hill, and a girl was shrieking from inside. Not far behind was a police car, in pursuit. I wondered why God turned my heart to the city, why I love it so much, and why that scene didn't panic me.Why did God bring me here, and make my soul fall in love? Why did He open doors to a place to live and a job in Cockeysville? Why did I have to walk by an apartment for rent in the city today? Why couldn't the sign have gone up tomorrow? Must I be torn like this? Why must I love so intensely a place I normally would have run from, a place that would have made me uncomfortable, a place that would make me fearful? Why must these seven months end so abruptly? Why must the curtains close?
When can I come back, God? Will You bring me back?
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
When The Credits Roll
The chapter of my life in Lancaster will soon end. When the credits roll, tears will stain my face.I have had to take one detour since my move to Lancaster. I was trying to go to a tack shop in Gap, but the road was closed; there was a detour. Seemingly, there was no reason for the detour. Perhaps there was road work, but I couldn't see it; maybe a tree was down; possibly a car accident. I don't know. The detour sent me on little back roads made of dirt for a horse and buggy. Eventually, I ended up at the tack shop.
I feel like I'm about to take a detour. There's no way through right now. It's not a bad thing; it just takes patience to wait. In April, I will move to Cockeysville. Still the ghetto, sort of. Everything pointed to the move: Rising gas prices, closer to the salon, only working one day a week in Lancaster for the summer, closer to family and friends, no apartments for rent in the city where I wanted to live . . . . My desire is to be back in the city one day, but for now I'm taking a detour.
I love Lancaster city: All the parks and cafes and beautiful streets; NewSong Fellowship, my church home here; my roommates. I have learned so much living here. I can parallel park my car now, and I (generally) remember to move my car for street cleaning! My weaknesses and my stengths do not define me; Jesus Christ does. Freedom. Frustrations. Need. Surrender. I've learned to cry, to be thankful, and to be alone.
I am finally settled here, and now I will take a detour and begin that process all over again in Cockeysville.
Horatio Spafford wrote this hymn in 1873. As the credits roll, my soul sings along.
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
But, Lord, ’tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord!
Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul!
It is well, with my soul.
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
I Dunno
Say it just like it's spelled. I dunno. I say these two words quite frequently. I just don't know. I don't know what tomorrow will bring; don't know where I'll be living; don't know what job I'll hold this summer; I just dunno.
Pull apart the petals on a rose and toss them in the air. That is what my life is like right now. Don't know where they will land, but I know it will be messy. Look up and try to catch them as they fall, the wind catching them and teasing your fingertips only to snatch them away again. Look down and realize they are all on the ground now, and scurry to pick them all up. Find a big book and smash each of those little petals between its pages, close the book, and wait. Wait for the petals to dry out, and you finally have something beautiful again.
There's the jobs. Love my jobs. One is far away. The other is close by, but I'll only be working there once a week this summer. And so I need a summer job.
There's the house. Love my bedroom. But this is temporary and I need to find a new location to live in May. The city, like I had thought? Or closer to my far away job? And so I need to find a place to live.
There's relationships. Love so many people in my life. There are the old friends back at home. There are new ones here. Where I move will change what those friendships look like, and bring even more people into my life. And so I cried on the way home tonight.
I am torn. And my petals are falling. I dunno.
". . . we do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon You." (2 Chronicles 20:12)
Pull apart the petals on a rose and toss them in the air. That is what my life is like right now. Don't know where they will land, but I know it will be messy. Look up and try to catch them as they fall, the wind catching them and teasing your fingertips only to snatch them away again. Look down and realize they are all on the ground now, and scurry to pick them all up. Find a big book and smash each of those little petals between its pages, close the book, and wait. Wait for the petals to dry out, and you finally have something beautiful again.
There's the jobs. Love my jobs. One is far away. The other is close by, but I'll only be working there once a week this summer. And so I need a summer job.
There's the house. Love my bedroom. But this is temporary and I need to find a new location to live in May. The city, like I had thought? Or closer to my far away job? And so I need to find a place to live.
There's relationships. Love so many people in my life. There are the old friends back at home. There are new ones here. Where I move will change what those friendships look like, and bring even more people into my life. And so I cried on the way home tonight.
I am torn. And my petals are falling. I dunno.
". . . we do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon You." (2 Chronicles 20:12)
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Employed Again
First for an update on my nanny job. I love it! I don't really have words for it. I feel at home in their house, and I've been welcomed into their family. We couldn't have been fit together better. I love their dogs who greet me at the door, and their cat who talks non-stop and curls up in my lap for a nap if there's not too much commotion. I love coloring with Emi, and making dinner with Kaylyn. I love that I can call Matt when my car is dead, and that Hope knows what I'm feeling before I tell her.
Now for an introduction to my second job. I am employed at a salon in Shrewsbury. It takes me an hour one way to get to work, but I'm hoping to transfer to Lancaster in a few months. For now, it's work, and about work I'm not complaining. Yesterday was my first day. I jumped right into the routine of things, remembered the computer system, and acted as if I'd been there forever. The salon was busy and the atmosphere was pleasant. I don't want to get too attached since I plan to transfer, but so far it has been good. I did haircut after haircut, and shampoo after shampoo, sweeping hair between every client. After not working in a salon in nearly a year, I thought it might feel weird, or that I'd forget how to blend a clipper cut, or not be able to carry on conversation with each client, or my feet would hurt. But as each person sat in my chair, it came naturally, as if it was just a part of who I am. I don't really plan to work in the beauty industry for the rest of my life, but for now it's a paycheck, and I know I'll always point out people by their hair style.
I'm one step closer to living in the ghetto. And I'm so blessed.
Now for an introduction to my second job. I am employed at a salon in Shrewsbury. It takes me an hour one way to get to work, but I'm hoping to transfer to Lancaster in a few months. For now, it's work, and about work I'm not complaining. Yesterday was my first day. I jumped right into the routine of things, remembered the computer system, and acted as if I'd been there forever. The salon was busy and the atmosphere was pleasant. I don't want to get too attached since I plan to transfer, but so far it has been good. I did haircut after haircut, and shampoo after shampoo, sweeping hair between every client. After not working in a salon in nearly a year, I thought it might feel weird, or that I'd forget how to blend a clipper cut, or not be able to carry on conversation with each client, or my feet would hurt. But as each person sat in my chair, it came naturally, as if it was just a part of who I am. I don't really plan to work in the beauty industry for the rest of my life, but for now it's a paycheck, and I know I'll always point out people by their hair style.
I'm one step closer to living in the ghetto. And I'm so blessed.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Moving Day #2
Yesterday was moving day number two in about three months. I packed up most of my things to go down to the basement, and prepared the rest to move the five minutes into the city where my new home will be for the next few months. It all happened when Hannah, a girl I met at a church I've been attending, asked me to come join her and her roomie, Melody, when their third roomie got married. After some thought, I decided to take the offer and move in with them temporarily. The duplex is located in a more classy area of town so I don't plan to be here too long as I still hope to live in the ghetto area of the city soon. For now, it is cheaper for me to live here than to be on my own, and it gives the other two girls some time to find someone more permanent. George and Ashley will be able to be a family again, and I will have the chance to make new friends. It will also be good for Ashley and I to wrestle through our friendship without the stress of living together. There were some times when we were best friends in the past three months, but there were some times we were worst enemies too. (Right, Ash?!)
In the morning, George helped me move the big stuff downstairs - whether to the basement or to the living room for easy access to my car. I loaded up for trip number one, and turned the key. Nothing. My car was dead. (It had died the day before as well, but I was hoping that after it got re-charged it would be back to working order!) I laughed. Resting my head against the steering wheel, I whispered, "Thanks, God. Increase my faith." My dear friend, Sara, was on her way from Baltimore to help me move. I waited for her, and then we went to Wal-mart for jumper cables. Flurries came down as we ran the errand. I love snow. I love the freezing cold. Perfect day. We jumped my car, and after dropping off the car load at the new place, we went to get a new battery for my car. Eventually, we made it back to the house to pick up the last of my things, drove the five minutes into the city to my new home, and began the unpacking and organizing process.
My room is the smallest in the house. I think the bathroom is even bigger than my bedroom! It doesn't have a closet so there's not a lot of storage space. Putting my organizational skills to use, I eventually found a little bit of clear floor space. Sara hung up my Christmas lights, and the room is cute and homey, even if it is a little crowded.
I ran out in the evening to get a little shelf thing to help with organizing things up off the floor. As I put it together, I realized I was in need of screwdriver. Back to Wal-mart I went - it was my fourth Wal-mart visit of the day! Purchasing a screwdriver and jumper cables in one day made me feel all grown up! I put the shelf together sometime near midnight, and although I didn't do it quite right, it stands up just fine and seems plenty sturdy.
My new roomies have been great, and I'm excited to call this home for the next month or two. Until Moving Day #3 arrives. Here are pictures from all four corners of the room, and one picture of one of the frames I have on the wall. Photography by Caught By A Flash.
In the morning, George helped me move the big stuff downstairs - whether to the basement or to the living room for easy access to my car. I loaded up for trip number one, and turned the key. Nothing. My car was dead. (It had died the day before as well, but I was hoping that after it got re-charged it would be back to working order!) I laughed. Resting my head against the steering wheel, I whispered, "Thanks, God. Increase my faith." My dear friend, Sara, was on her way from Baltimore to help me move. I waited for her, and then we went to Wal-mart for jumper cables. Flurries came down as we ran the errand. I love snow. I love the freezing cold. Perfect day. We jumped my car, and after dropping off the car load at the new place, we went to get a new battery for my car. Eventually, we made it back to the house to pick up the last of my things, drove the five minutes into the city to my new home, and began the unpacking and organizing process.
My room is the smallest in the house. I think the bathroom is even bigger than my bedroom! It doesn't have a closet so there's not a lot of storage space. Putting my organizational skills to use, I eventually found a little bit of clear floor space. Sara hung up my Christmas lights, and the room is cute and homey, even if it is a little crowded.
I ran out in the evening to get a little shelf thing to help with organizing things up off the floor. As I put it together, I realized I was in need of screwdriver. Back to Wal-mart I went - it was my fourth Wal-mart visit of the day! Purchasing a screwdriver and jumper cables in one day made me feel all grown up! I put the shelf together sometime near midnight, and although I didn't do it quite right, it stands up just fine and seems plenty sturdy.
My new roomies have been great, and I'm excited to call this home for the next month or two. Until Moving Day #3 arrives. Here are pictures from all four corners of the room, and one picture of one of the frames I have on the wall. Photography by Caught By A Flash.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Lost My Life
Sometimes I feel like I've lost my life. In my move up here to Lancaster City, I lost a lot. I lost friends. There are a few people I'm still in touch with, but not for the most part, and I'm learning that brand new friendship making is a slow process. I lost my hobby. I haven't ridden a horse in weeks. That was the one thing I did for exercise (now I run up 38 stairs to get to my bedroom), and the one time I really enjoyed the moment and stopped thinking and processing life. I lost my job. I have a really great part-time thing here as a nanny. I love every day I'm with those girls. But I need something else because I'm not sure I can pay all my bills this month. I lost my church and my ministry and my community.
If it sounds like I'm complaining, I'm not. I'm thoughtful. I'm a little sad. But it's good. Jesus says, "For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it." (Luke 9:24)
Side note: I have been thinking about this 'losing my life' concept for the past couple weeks, but now that I'm actually sitting down (well, lieing on the floor) ready to write this blog, I can't focus. Why? Well, remember all those steps I said I have to go up and down to my room? I slid down a flight of them earlier tonight and have a burn on my wrist and it hurts really, really badly. Just saying.
I've been blessed. Blessed by George and Ashley who gave me this bedroom and invited me to be a part of their family for the past three months. Blessed by Hannah, a girl I met at a church here, who I'll be living with shortly and has welcomed me as her friend. Blessed by an incredible job, watching two amazing girls who make me laugh, and working for their gracious parents, Matt and Hope. Blessed by NewSong Fellowship, the church I've been attending for the past few months. I'm still not completely sure if I'll end up calling it home, but they have welcomed me and shown me the love of Jesus. I've been blessed by bunches of road blocks and illness and strife that is teaching me to stand firm in my faith and to trust God like I never have before, and to say, "Thank You."
I am so blessed. There will always be days like today: when the rain pours down, and I don't get the job, and I melt the spoon in the mac 'n' cheese, and the dog pees on the rug, and crayon gets marked on the door, and I fall down the stairs, and I get sick because I ate the frozen pizza I was craving even though I knew it wasn't a good idea. There will be days when I forget why I moved, when I don't see the point, and when I'm tired of waiting. But I'm blessed. I've lost my life; I've found an amazing journey with Jesus that will last for eternity.
If it sounds like I'm complaining, I'm not. I'm thoughtful. I'm a little sad. But it's good. Jesus says, "For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it." (Luke 9:24)
Side note: I have been thinking about this 'losing my life' concept for the past couple weeks, but now that I'm actually sitting down (well, lieing on the floor) ready to write this blog, I can't focus. Why? Well, remember all those steps I said I have to go up and down to my room? I slid down a flight of them earlier tonight and have a burn on my wrist and it hurts really, really badly. Just saying.
I've been blessed. Blessed by George and Ashley who gave me this bedroom and invited me to be a part of their family for the past three months. Blessed by Hannah, a girl I met at a church here, who I'll be living with shortly and has welcomed me as her friend. Blessed by an incredible job, watching two amazing girls who make me laugh, and working for their gracious parents, Matt and Hope. Blessed by NewSong Fellowship, the church I've been attending for the past few months. I'm still not completely sure if I'll end up calling it home, but they have welcomed me and shown me the love of Jesus. I've been blessed by bunches of road blocks and illness and strife that is teaching me to stand firm in my faith and to trust God like I never have before, and to say, "Thank You."
I am so blessed. There will always be days like today: when the rain pours down, and I don't get the job, and I melt the spoon in the mac 'n' cheese, and the dog pees on the rug, and crayon gets marked on the door, and I fall down the stairs, and I get sick because I ate the frozen pizza I was craving even though I knew it wasn't a good idea. There will be days when I forget why I moved, when I don't see the point, and when I'm tired of waiting. But I'm blessed. I've lost my life; I've found an amazing journey with Jesus that will last for eternity.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Employed in Lancaster
I have been without a job for thirteen weeks. I guess that's nothing to some people, but it feels like forever to me. Nine of those weeks I've been in Lancaster after a job I thought I had, fell through.
About a month ago I told God that I was getting tired of waiting. Either He could bring me a job, or I was going to start pursuing testing for my Pennsylvania cosmetology license. Cosmetology is not something that I really want to go back to - at least not full-time, but it's something that I'm qualified to do, and can pay bills with. It seemed like the decision was wise. Going into debt didn't sound like a lot of fun. I decided that on November first, if I didn't have work yet, I would apply for the PA cosmetology exam. Then, if I passed, I would stay in PA and work in a salon, and if I didn't, I would assume that God was sending me back home. Instead, I got antsy, and I sent in my application last week. I'm still waiting for my "Admission To Test," but it looks like I'll test at the end of November. I've paid for the test so I can't back out now.
God is faithful, and He always holds up His end of the deal even when I don't keep mine. He called me to the city. He prepared the way for me to move to Lancaster. He gave me a job, and I moved up to Pennsylvania. He allowed my job to be taken away to teach me about myself and about Himself. When I challenged His sovereignty and His call, He showed Himself even though He didn't owe me anything. It's November first. I'm employed. God is good. To me, it's affirmation that He wants me here, and that He's with me. And now I'll suffer the consequences of a lot of studying and a lot of money to take this cosmetology test. (I still may use my license up here, but I ran ahead of God on this one. He redeems it.)
Last Monday, the day I mailed off my cosmetology application, I also applied online for a nanny job. Part-time, but I liked the write-up about the job. I met the family last Thursday, and accepted a job to work for them, watching their daughters. I am so excited. God is good. He provided. The family seems nice, and I felt comfortable with them. Part way through the interview, I was told that they didn't want someone too religous. Uh-oh. I wouldn't call myself a 'religous fanatic', but I love God a whole lot, and it comes out in my life. I stopped them and told them that. I wondered if the next few words out of their mouths would be, "Thanks for your time, but you're not what we're looking for." But it wasn't. What's more, is they later read my blog, and they still like me! [They're probably reading this right now - feels a little weird to be writing about them! ;) ] If they can handle these thoughts from my heart, then we're set. I'm so very excited about working for them. The older daughter rides horses - what more could I ask? I'm amazed at the way God fit us together.
Tomorrow is my first official day at work. I went today to see the house, and find out how to pick up Kaylyn from school, and play with Emily. It was good. I felt comfortable, and I hope they feel comfortable with me. So excited!
About a month ago I told God that I was getting tired of waiting. Either He could bring me a job, or I was going to start pursuing testing for my Pennsylvania cosmetology license. Cosmetology is not something that I really want to go back to - at least not full-time, but it's something that I'm qualified to do, and can pay bills with. It seemed like the decision was wise. Going into debt didn't sound like a lot of fun. I decided that on November first, if I didn't have work yet, I would apply for the PA cosmetology exam. Then, if I passed, I would stay in PA and work in a salon, and if I didn't, I would assume that God was sending me back home. Instead, I got antsy, and I sent in my application last week. I'm still waiting for my "Admission To Test," but it looks like I'll test at the end of November. I've paid for the test so I can't back out now.
God is faithful, and He always holds up His end of the deal even when I don't keep mine. He called me to the city. He prepared the way for me to move to Lancaster. He gave me a job, and I moved up to Pennsylvania. He allowed my job to be taken away to teach me about myself and about Himself. When I challenged His sovereignty and His call, He showed Himself even though He didn't owe me anything. It's November first. I'm employed. God is good. To me, it's affirmation that He wants me here, and that He's with me. And now I'll suffer the consequences of a lot of studying and a lot of money to take this cosmetology test. (I still may use my license up here, but I ran ahead of God on this one. He redeems it.)
Last Monday, the day I mailed off my cosmetology application, I also applied online for a nanny job. Part-time, but I liked the write-up about the job. I met the family last Thursday, and accepted a job to work for them, watching their daughters. I am so excited. God is good. He provided. The family seems nice, and I felt comfortable with them. Part way through the interview, I was told that they didn't want someone too religous. Uh-oh. I wouldn't call myself a 'religous fanatic', but I love God a whole lot, and it comes out in my life. I stopped them and told them that. I wondered if the next few words out of their mouths would be, "Thanks for your time, but you're not what we're looking for." But it wasn't. What's more, is they later read my blog, and they still like me! [They're probably reading this right now - feels a little weird to be writing about them! ;) ] If they can handle these thoughts from my heart, then we're set. I'm so very excited about working for them. The older daughter rides horses - what more could I ask? I'm amazed at the way God fit us together.
Tomorrow is my first official day at work. I went today to see the house, and find out how to pick up Kaylyn from school, and play with Emily. It was good. I felt comfortable, and I hope they feel comfortable with me. So excited!
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Here I Am Without A Job; Thank You, God
As I wrote in my last entry, "Goodbye job. Goodbye paycheck. Goodbye why moving up here was even possible. But here I am anyway." Yes, here I am, completely jobless. I hate the feeling. It's like ice cold rain soaking through my jeans on a windy day. It feels like the sun will never come back out, and my jeans won't dry. It feels like a job won't ever come, and I'll just watch my bank account waste away to nothing.
But I'm learning.
I'm learning what it feels like to deserve the ghetto. That's what I moved up here to do - live in the ghetto. I'm not there yet; still in this temporary living area with my dear friend, Ashley. Even though I truly can't afford anything better than the ghetto in the first place, somehow I thought I was better than that. I was proud. I was self-sufficient. I had plans. But I was wrong. Now I get a chance to be in the shoes of so many low-income areas. I get to feel what they feel. The pressure. The stress. The inferiority. I want to embrace it.
I'm learning to trust God. I'm a planner, but I no longer have plans. I no longer have time frames. I no longer have expectations. I have about four months until I'll be forced to close my bank account. I pray that God doesn't make me wait that long, but if He does I'll be okay. Waiting on Him - truly waiting at the feet of Jesus - instead of waiting on the job: that's what I'm learning.
I'm learning that this season is a blessing instead of a curse. Just months ago I wrote about my God time being rushed and hurried. I gave Him my leftover time, and my second best or worse. I wondered what activities needed to be pruned in order to find time to be with Jesus. Now I have time. A lot of time. I don't have many friends here. I don't have a church. I don't go to the barn. I don't have a job. I simply get to spend time with Jesus. Journal. Pray. Read. Be with Jesus. I don't have anywhere I need to be by such and such a time. I don't need to call so and so, or do this or that. How good it is to rest in Jesus, and seek His heart.
Here I am without a job; thank You, God.
But I'm learning.
I'm learning what it feels like to deserve the ghetto. That's what I moved up here to do - live in the ghetto. I'm not there yet; still in this temporary living area with my dear friend, Ashley. Even though I truly can't afford anything better than the ghetto in the first place, somehow I thought I was better than that. I was proud. I was self-sufficient. I had plans. But I was wrong. Now I get a chance to be in the shoes of so many low-income areas. I get to feel what they feel. The pressure. The stress. The inferiority. I want to embrace it.
I'm learning to trust God. I'm a planner, but I no longer have plans. I no longer have time frames. I no longer have expectations. I have about four months until I'll be forced to close my bank account. I pray that God doesn't make me wait that long, but if He does I'll be okay. Waiting on Him - truly waiting at the feet of Jesus - instead of waiting on the job: that's what I'm learning.
I'm learning that this season is a blessing instead of a curse. Just months ago I wrote about my God time being rushed and hurried. I gave Him my leftover time, and my second best or worse. I wondered what activities needed to be pruned in order to find time to be with Jesus. Now I have time. A lot of time. I don't have many friends here. I don't have a church. I don't go to the barn. I don't have a job. I simply get to spend time with Jesus. Journal. Pray. Read. Be with Jesus. I don't have anywhere I need to be by such and such a time. I don't need to call so and so, or do this or that. How good it is to rest in Jesus, and seek His heart.
Here I am without a job; thank You, God.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
The Move And 3 Days Thereafter
Jeremiah 10:23 says, "I know, O LORD, that a man's life is not his own; it is not for man to direct his steps."
My life isn't mine. God called me to this move (here's that story). So here I am.
Saturday morning, everything went well. I had a bunch of help, and the whole packing ordeal was over in a little over an hour. I walked down the 3 flights of stairs, 21 steps, crossed the landing with the mailboxes, 2 more steps down, a sidewalk, then 2 more steps up, and a step off the curb to my car and left good ole 15F forever. Arrived at my temporary home in Lancaster and once again accomplished the unpacking quickly and with help. Seven steps up to the porch, a step in the house, 16 steps to the first landing, and 15 more up to my room. It's nice. A little bit hot up there since there's no air conditioning on the third floor, but I like it.
I'm living with Ashley and George and their 3 children until I can make some money and live on my own in the ghetto. It's a big dream. Doesn't sound like it, maybe, and shouldn't require too much mula, but it's a big step. And it's a big step to be living here. Ashley and I mainly know each other only from lots and lots of text messages. She likes golden oreos, and I like chocolate. She loves corn dogs, and I can't stand them. But we both go barefoot all the time. She adds -o to her words and I add -ness to mine. And I've visited a handful of times. I just hope we know one another well enough to make this live-in thing work! It's been good so far - at least from my point of view.
I still wonder if I'm going home. If this is only a visit. But it isn't. It's real. This is home now. I visited my first church up here. I don't know. Might go back, but I'll probably try a couple others first. I'm hoping to try 2 or 3 more next weekend - one on Saturday night and an early and late service on Sunday morning. Trying to find "home" as quickly as possible!
Part of the story of my moving up here is the way I was hired as a nanny so quickly. I was excited about the part-time job which would make me a little bit of money while I found another part-time job to pair with it. Today, those plans crashed to the sidewalk as I walked through the city, talking on the phone with my soon-to-be boss. She got laid off at work and no longer needed me. Goodbye job. Goodbye paycheck. Goodbye why moving up here was even possible. But here I am anyway. I continued to walk around the city with my eyes open for ideas of full-time jobs now, instead of just part-time. I walked and walked. I can't parallel park that well so walking is my better bet, but after a couple of hours walking around the city in my jeans and my hair down in case I stopped in some salons in 92degrees I was hot and sweating. I got off the phone with my suppose-to-be boss, and walked in a coffee shop for a cool strawberry drink.
I walked by the library. A library. Perfect. Maybe my day was about to get a little better. I went inside. I roamed all three floors and found a book I wanted to check out. When I asked at the counter for a library card, the woman told me I couldn't get one or check out the book since my driver's license still had my maryland address. Tears flooded my eyes. I turned and walked outside, sat down on the steps on the side of the building, and cried. I couldn't help myself. It was turning into a very bad day. I hadn't had much sleep since the temperatures were a bit high in my room, then I got laid off before I even started work, and now I can't even borrow a book from the library.
I calmed myself down, and headed to a cafe Ashley had told me about to apply for a job. I couldn't find it. I gave up and walked back to my poorly paralleled parked car. I found my way around the one-way streets, stopped at the grocery store, and made it back to my new home sweet home. Applied for a couple more nanny jobs, and now I'm just waiting for someone to call me back, or my next job search outting - whichever comes first.
I know, O LORD, that a man's life is not his own; it is not for man to direct his steps.
And the saga continues . . . .
My life isn't mine. God called me to this move (here's that story). So here I am.
Saturday morning, everything went well. I had a bunch of help, and the whole packing ordeal was over in a little over an hour. I walked down the 3 flights of stairs, 21 steps, crossed the landing with the mailboxes, 2 more steps down, a sidewalk, then 2 more steps up, and a step off the curb to my car and left good ole 15F forever. Arrived at my temporary home in Lancaster and once again accomplished the unpacking quickly and with help. Seven steps up to the porch, a step in the house, 16 steps to the first landing, and 15 more up to my room. It's nice. A little bit hot up there since there's no air conditioning on the third floor, but I like it.
I'm living with Ashley and George and their 3 children until I can make some money and live on my own in the ghetto. It's a big dream. Doesn't sound like it, maybe, and shouldn't require too much mula, but it's a big step. And it's a big step to be living here. Ashley and I mainly know each other only from lots and lots of text messages. She likes golden oreos, and I like chocolate. She loves corn dogs, and I can't stand them. But we both go barefoot all the time. She adds -o to her words and I add -ness to mine. And I've visited a handful of times. I just hope we know one another well enough to make this live-in thing work! It's been good so far - at least from my point of view.
I still wonder if I'm going home. If this is only a visit. But it isn't. It's real. This is home now. I visited my first church up here. I don't know. Might go back, but I'll probably try a couple others first. I'm hoping to try 2 or 3 more next weekend - one on Saturday night and an early and late service on Sunday morning. Trying to find "home" as quickly as possible!
Part of the story of my moving up here is the way I was hired as a nanny so quickly. I was excited about the part-time job which would make me a little bit of money while I found another part-time job to pair with it. Today, those plans crashed to the sidewalk as I walked through the city, talking on the phone with my soon-to-be boss. She got laid off at work and no longer needed me. Goodbye job. Goodbye paycheck. Goodbye why moving up here was even possible. But here I am anyway. I continued to walk around the city with my eyes open for ideas of full-time jobs now, instead of just part-time. I walked and walked. I can't parallel park that well so walking is my better bet, but after a couple of hours walking around the city in my jeans and my hair down in case I stopped in some salons in 92degrees I was hot and sweating. I got off the phone with my suppose-to-be boss, and walked in a coffee shop for a cool strawberry drink.
I walked by the library. A library. Perfect. Maybe my day was about to get a little better. I went inside. I roamed all three floors and found a book I wanted to check out. When I asked at the counter for a library card, the woman told me I couldn't get one or check out the book since my driver's license still had my maryland address. Tears flooded my eyes. I turned and walked outside, sat down on the steps on the side of the building, and cried. I couldn't help myself. It was turning into a very bad day. I hadn't had much sleep since the temperatures were a bit high in my room, then I got laid off before I even started work, and now I can't even borrow a book from the library.
I calmed myself down, and headed to a cafe Ashley had told me about to apply for a job. I couldn't find it. I gave up and walked back to my poorly paralleled parked car. I found my way around the one-way streets, stopped at the grocery store, and made it back to my new home sweet home. Applied for a couple more nanny jobs, and now I'm just waiting for someone to call me back, or my next job search outting - whichever comes first.
I know, O LORD, that a man's life is not his own; it is not for man to direct his steps.
And the saga continues . . . .
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
The Story Begins
The story began back around April when I had a week of in-my-face God trying to get my attention. I had a conversation with a girl on facebook about pole dancing and prostitutes; for some reason the same topic came up at work; I watched "Price of Pleasure" because my friend, Chrissy, recommended it (it's a documentary about porn); then, God spoke in a voice only audible to my heart, but it was crystal clear.
I sat through the service in church that Sunday, and I couldn't tell you what the message was about, but at the end the pastor told a story about a Christian business guy on a business trip. I remember wondering what the story had to do with the rest of the message, but whatever the case it had a lot to do with what God had to say to me.
Here's my version of the story (it's something along these lines): He can't sleep and he hears some noise in the pub below him. He walks in and orders a coffee, and asks the man behind the counter what all the commotion is. "Oh, it's the prostitutes getting off work. Happens like clockwork every night at this time." He overhears one of them, a girl called Agnus, mention that it is her birthday the following day, but that no one ever celebrates it with her. After she leaves, he suggests that they throw her a birthday party the following night. So the next night there are decorations, and a huge birthday cake. When Agnus walks in they sing happy birthday to her and throw her a party. She asks if she can take the cake to show her friends. She runs out the door, telling them not to move and that she will be right back. In the awkward moments that follow, the business man suggests that they all pray for Agnus, and so they do. "Hey," says the man behind the counter, "I didn't know you were a Christian. What kind of church do you go to?" "I guess the kind of church that throws parties in the middle of the night for a prostitute," he answers. "That kind of church doesn't exist," says the man behind the counter, "and if it did, I would go to it." The story pierced my heart. As I sat there at the end of the service with a piece of bread and a cup of juice, I asked God to speak to my heart. And He did. "Rescue these captives, Julie. They're so precious to Me. Go to the ghetto."
Prostitutes? I've known I've been called to young girls since I was in high school myself. I knew that was my ministry. It IS my ministry. And I even understand how 'young girls' and 'prostitutes' fit together, but . . . .
I didn't forget what God said, but I knew He was going to have to show me more.
About a month later, I visited my dear friend, Ashley, in Lancaster. On my way up, I drove through what I term "the ghetto." And I fell in love. It was cute, the people were outside together experiencing community and investing in one another. I thought about all the sinful life cycles that lived there, and all the hurting girls, and I knew God was tugging on my heart. As I sat on their couch, we talked about me moving up there when I got back from camp, and living with them for awhile, but it seemed almost a joke – something that wouldn't ever really happen. On the way home, I passed a church that I looked up later online that has ghetto ministries happening weekly. It may seem clear, but it wasn't until later that I started putting things together. Prostitutes, the ghetto, and now provision to move into the ghetto by having an in-between place to live.
A couple weeks later, I was in D.C. Although we didn't drive through the ghetto, it was sketchy enough to count for something close! And again, I realized how much my heart yearned for a place much like it: poor, yes, but with so much need to see Christ in their next door neighbor. I had been reading through Luke, and each time Jesus sat down with the poor, the 'sinful', and the unexpected, it was confirmed again.
That's who I'm called to be. The next door neighbor who, by inviting them over for dinner or sitting out on the front steps with them, will really just be doing what Jesus did.
But that was before I left for camp. There was still a distance between those thoughts and the real thing.
Now, the real thing is in a few weeks. Looking for a job is real now. I began looking for jobs near the ghetto in D.C., Baltimore, and Lancaster. I have come across a part-time job in Lancaster, and as I train in the next few weeks that's going to be real too. Decisions are not only real, they also have to be made quickly now. No more time to sit and think about it. The real thing is saying goodbye to my family, friends, church, Bible study groups, and my girls' small group. And, if the ghetto is getting more and more real, so is the prospect of ministry with prostitutes. Don't know how it's going to play out, but I know that what I heard that Sunday morning was real. Maybe it will be a girl next door. Or maybe it will be much bigger than that.
It's almost too much to process. All the things that need to be done overwhelm me: job search, calling BGE, taking care of address switches, seeing friends I haven't seen all summer and telling them goodbye again . . . . All the emotions overwhelm me too: excitement, fear, nervousness, sadness, anticipation . . . .
I remembered the story from Genesis 12 when Abram leaves when God tells him to go. He doesn't wait around. He trusts. Until recently, I wasn't really trusting God to provide everything I needed in order to obey. But as I lied in bed one night, my heart swarming with thoughts and feelings, God and I talked. And I felt peace. He's taken care of little things: a place to live for awhile, a place to store my things until I have a few paychecks and can find a happy ghetto (or near the ghetto) apartment. And He'll take care of the big things too: a second job, a church, friends, . . . . Finally, this heart of mine sat still long enough for me to trust. Long enough for me to surrender. Long enough to hear that voice in my heart call me to the ghetto, to girls, to prostitutes, and have peace in it.
That's my story. And it's probably just the beginning . . . .
I sat through the service in church that Sunday, and I couldn't tell you what the message was about, but at the end the pastor told a story about a Christian business guy on a business trip. I remember wondering what the story had to do with the rest of the message, but whatever the case it had a lot to do with what God had to say to me.
Here's my version of the story (it's something along these lines): He can't sleep and he hears some noise in the pub below him. He walks in and orders a coffee, and asks the man behind the counter what all the commotion is. "Oh, it's the prostitutes getting off work. Happens like clockwork every night at this time." He overhears one of them, a girl called Agnus, mention that it is her birthday the following day, but that no one ever celebrates it with her. After she leaves, he suggests that they throw her a birthday party the following night. So the next night there are decorations, and a huge birthday cake. When Agnus walks in they sing happy birthday to her and throw her a party. She asks if she can take the cake to show her friends. She runs out the door, telling them not to move and that she will be right back. In the awkward moments that follow, the business man suggests that they all pray for Agnus, and so they do. "Hey," says the man behind the counter, "I didn't know you were a Christian. What kind of church do you go to?" "I guess the kind of church that throws parties in the middle of the night for a prostitute," he answers. "That kind of church doesn't exist," says the man behind the counter, "and if it did, I would go to it." The story pierced my heart. As I sat there at the end of the service with a piece of bread and a cup of juice, I asked God to speak to my heart. And He did. "Rescue these captives, Julie. They're so precious to Me. Go to the ghetto."
Prostitutes? I've known I've been called to young girls since I was in high school myself. I knew that was my ministry. It IS my ministry. And I even understand how 'young girls' and 'prostitutes' fit together, but . . . .
I didn't forget what God said, but I knew He was going to have to show me more.
About a month later, I visited my dear friend, Ashley, in Lancaster. On my way up, I drove through what I term "the ghetto." And I fell in love. It was cute, the people were outside together experiencing community and investing in one another. I thought about all the sinful life cycles that lived there, and all the hurting girls, and I knew God was tugging on my heart. As I sat on their couch, we talked about me moving up there when I got back from camp, and living with them for awhile, but it seemed almost a joke – something that wouldn't ever really happen. On the way home, I passed a church that I looked up later online that has ghetto ministries happening weekly. It may seem clear, but it wasn't until later that I started putting things together. Prostitutes, the ghetto, and now provision to move into the ghetto by having an in-between place to live.
A couple weeks later, I was in D.C. Although we didn't drive through the ghetto, it was sketchy enough to count for something close! And again, I realized how much my heart yearned for a place much like it: poor, yes, but with so much need to see Christ in their next door neighbor. I had been reading through Luke, and each time Jesus sat down with the poor, the 'sinful', and the unexpected, it was confirmed again.
That's who I'm called to be. The next door neighbor who, by inviting them over for dinner or sitting out on the front steps with them, will really just be doing what Jesus did.
But that was before I left for camp. There was still a distance between those thoughts and the real thing.
Now, the real thing is in a few weeks. Looking for a job is real now. I began looking for jobs near the ghetto in D.C., Baltimore, and Lancaster. I have come across a part-time job in Lancaster, and as I train in the next few weeks that's going to be real too. Decisions are not only real, they also have to be made quickly now. No more time to sit and think about it. The real thing is saying goodbye to my family, friends, church, Bible study groups, and my girls' small group. And, if the ghetto is getting more and more real, so is the prospect of ministry with prostitutes. Don't know how it's going to play out, but I know that what I heard that Sunday morning was real. Maybe it will be a girl next door. Or maybe it will be much bigger than that.
It's almost too much to process. All the things that need to be done overwhelm me: job search, calling BGE, taking care of address switches, seeing friends I haven't seen all summer and telling them goodbye again . . . . All the emotions overwhelm me too: excitement, fear, nervousness, sadness, anticipation . . . .
I remembered the story from Genesis 12 when Abram leaves when God tells him to go. He doesn't wait around. He trusts. Until recently, I wasn't really trusting God to provide everything I needed in order to obey. But as I lied in bed one night, my heart swarming with thoughts and feelings, God and I talked. And I felt peace. He's taken care of little things: a place to live for awhile, a place to store my things until I have a few paychecks and can find a happy ghetto (or near the ghetto) apartment. And He'll take care of the big things too: a second job, a church, friends, . . . . Finally, this heart of mine sat still long enough for me to trust. Long enough for me to surrender. Long enough to hear that voice in my heart call me to the ghetto, to girls, to prostitutes, and have peace in it.
That's my story. And it's probably just the beginning . . . .
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