God help me.

Help me like the idea of things less and the actual things more. Help me to not just make good choices, but to make good mistakes too. Help me remember that when a life isn't full of mistakes, it's probably not much of anything.

frederick buechner quote

The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet.

how do i explain?

Is it wrong for me to admit that I didn't miss home when I was there? That I didn't want to come home? That I don't want to BE home? That "home" feels farther away now than ever before?

water works wednesday in kenya

I was reminded that these sick and most of the time, dying, people are just like me. Born of a fatal infection, living in a broken and trashed world, reeking so badly of my own sin that someone within 10 ft would turn up their nose if only they didn't reek of the same stench.

hard to witness, easy to love

I find it incredible, and a little ironic, that these people, who are living in the midst of some of the most horrifying poverty in the world, can have this outlook.

holy-day (funny times on my sunday flight to kenya)

Something I realized right away is that I am AWFUL at understanding people with different accents.

i’m the black sheep. the anomaly. the outlaw.

It's like I set such high standards for myself, like I'd rather spend all my energy proving that I'm actually an alright person. That I'm funny (even when I'm not). That I'm not awkward (even when I am). That I'm not the dumb blonde sorority girl. That there actually IS a brain in there and I'm not just some obtuse, flaky dunce.

i just haven’t met you yet – an ode to the single people

As vulnerable as it makes me to admit, I'm really just an anxious wreck who wants the fairytale.