Dust + Clay

 It’s been a year. 

365 days since my dad had a heart attack and I thought I would never have the chance to say goodbye.

365 days since my friend held my hand and refused to leave me alone.

364 days since my brother’s 18th birthday. 

364 days since rescue came in the form of high schoolers bringing cupcakes, balloons, and birthday cards.

363 days since my dad woke up and I felt hope again.

362 days since I cried to my friends that somehow this was the worst Christmas ever and yet the best Christmas I could have asked for.

361 days since eating Christmas Eve dinner in a hospital with my little brother and sister while a chaplain remarked that he knew who we were here for and had been praying for my dad.

360 days since my dad came home. Alive.

Alive. A word that now sings inside my heart. He is alive. I am alive. 

We take the fact that we’re alive for granted. Because everyone is alive.

We’re so numb to the truth of the blood pumping through our veins that we begin to blend life and death together.

Merely going through the motions, allowing our darkness to mingle with our light until every feeling turn into emptiness.

We don’t feel that we’re alive because it just feels like it always has.

What is the world around us but reminders that we are alive? 

That our lives change and grow and shrink with the world around us.

The cold this December serves as a reminder that my lungs can feel the cold air enter and return it to the earth- changed, made new, on to different purposes.

I hope to recognize my alive-ness in that way. To all myself to be changed. To be made new. And then to go into the world ready for anything, accepting whatever my new reality is.

And some days I will fail. And the tears stinging my eyes will remind my that I am undoubtedly alive to feel every end of the spectrum.

In 2019, I want to live. I want to be alive in ways that my bones refuse to forget. I want to invite my heart into the life that I have been given. Unashamed of who I am and who I was created to be. And grateful for all of the life that springs up around me when I am least expecting it.

Two days ago, my dad had a severe heart attack. They have had him sedated for two days. He has a machine breathing for him, another is pumping his heart for him, there is a machine for everything his body should be doing. I have spent a lot of time staring blankly at walls. I still have so many unanswered questions and prayers waited to be fulfilled.

But I have to tell you something about people. In the coldest winter I have ever felt, people will not let me shiver. They are astonishing.

When I arrived at the hospital Wednesday morning, someone I loved waited and walked in with me. When the nurse brought me to my mom, she was surrounded by people we loved. While we waited hours to hear what had happened, they all stayed and prayed. While they prepared my dad for the ICU, my siblings and I were whisked away for a few hours of distraction and joy. When I tried to run away, my friends gave me a place to rest. While my brother had to experience his 18th birthday without my dad to sing to him, the people who love us carried the tune, and brought cards and balloons and cupcakes. While my world is so many question marks and I don’t knows, people surround us and pray. And pray. And pray.

I owe my people more thanks than I could ever speak aloud. When my world feels like darkness, they come and light candles. There are hundreds of people that deserve endless thanks right now:

The people who have refused to leave my mom alone in the hospital: thank you.

The people who have texted, commented, or spoken their regards and prayers: thank you.

The people that bought my brother cupcakes and cards and sang to him in the midst of crisis: thank you.

The people that took my car keys from my hand and began fixing it without being asked: thank you.

The people that have taken in my siblings and I, with unconditional love, comfort, and kindness: thank you.

The people that have held me close and let me cry, made me laugh, and just held my hand while I stared blankly: thank you.

“Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes.Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.” -1 Peter 3:3-4

Gentle is not often a word used to describe me. And quiet? Even less so. I read this verse in frustration, roll my eyes, and move on.

Of course this verse came up in a group I was a part of. When I saw it on the paper, I sighed in contempt. I did not want to spend 5 minutes discussing he beauty of a quiet woman, let alone 30!

And then I saw a vision of the ocean.

The ocean is beautiful. It is vast and deep and calming. The ocean knows it is an ocean. It is not convincing you of it’s magnificence or begging you to look at it. The ocean does not question that it is the ocean.

That is what a gentle and quiet spirit is. A deep, unshakable understanding of who you are in God. Not seeking the answers from other people, or convincing yourself you are unworthy. Sitting in the moments, trusting that you are God’s beloved.

But the ocean is not passive. The ocean does not sit idle when storms are near. The ocean may become violent, passionate, and even frightening. The waves come crashing down and it feels anything but calm. That does not change that it is the ocean.

When I feel passionately, I will not be idle. I will speak out against injustice. I will fight for people’s hearts. I will not sit quiet so people may be reminded of my gentleness.

My volume, my tenacity, my intensity; it is not a sign of unrest in my heart. Because I know who I am. In the depths of my soul I am gentle and quiet. I do not question that I am a daughter of the King. I do not need to convince you that I am worthy. I am the ocean.

At least, today I am. And tomorrow I will have to wake up again and remind myself that I am the ocean and I will have to fend off attacks that are whispered to me.

“Are you really following God?”

“Do you even have a place there?”

“Are you sure you’re worthy?”

And again, and again, and again I have to stand up to the voice and call it like it is. That voice is lying, it does not know you. It speaks to you, because it fears who you could be if you lived like it was wrong. And it is.

You are magnificent. You are the image of God, deep to the core of who you are. You are worthy of love and affection. You are a sight to behold.

I have said for many years that I like high schoolers more than middle schoolers. This group right here has been the most beautiful exception.

I have had the honor of leading this group since Mayhem was first started and you all were in 6th grade. Starting as strangers and trying to get you to talk was actually impossible and it was easily one of the scariest things I have ever done. But I have watched you girls grow over the last 2 and a half years and you have all collectively and individually blown me away.

I have watched you get start to slowly open up, I have seen you follow God, and get baptized. I have seen your hearts come alive in service of those around you. You have served here at Discovery, at the food truck, and some of you I had the incredible experience of taking on a mission trip to Denver. You gone to camp and bonded over all the fun and pain that happens there. You have sat in our group on Sunday mornings and fought for each other’s hearts in ways you may or may not have realized. You have laughed together and you have cried together. You have fought and then forgiven, you have hurt others and been humble in asking for forgiveness.

And oh, the ways you have taught me. You have taught me to be brave, to be more kind, to be more thoughtful, more adventurous, more patient. You have taught me the value of silence, and the importance of asking for help. You have trusted me with your feelings and your secrets, with your joy and your brokenheartedness. The significance of which I will not soon forget.

Each of you is so beautiful, intelligent, brave, bold, kindhearted, captivating, and awe-inspiring. I am so blessed to know you and be a part of your lives. And I can’t wait to continue to be a part of your life as you go through high school. I’m not going to lie to you, some of it will be so hard. And there are days where you will feel unprepared and lacking. On those days I want you to remember all you have accomplished. All of the hard work you have done up to this point, and remind yourself how capable and worthy you truly are.

And when things get hard, lean on each other for support. The friendships you have formed in Mayhem are not an accident. Each person has been intentionally and strategically placed in your life because God knew you need them, and they need you.

I have spoken for many months about how excited I am for you to join the high school group. Because you girls are a whole other kind of wonder. You are the coming breath of life that Rebellion desperately needs. You will change the atmosphere not only in the high school group, but in our church as you continue to follow God’s call on your life.

In Acts 18:9 it says “Do not be afraid. Do not be silent. Keep on speaking.” Remember that you have not been called to stay silent. You have not been chosen by God to sit on the sidelines and watch life happen. You have been called to be bold. And you are some of the most bold girls I know. You are bold in your faith, in your families, you are bold as you let you friends cry on your shoulder, and you are especially bold when you allow yourself to cry on someone else’s shoulder.

As you go into high school, don’t lose your boldness. You are so brave and courageous, I am constantly surprised by the extent of your strength, even when I expect it. So continue to be bold. May you always be reminded of all the bold things you’ve done so far, and all of the bold things to come. I love you guys so incredibly much and I am so proud of each of you.

With So Much Love,

"No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.” -1 Corinthians 2:9

When I was in 6th grade I went to youth group for the first time. I had been a 5th grader merely 2 days before, but elementary school was behind me and Discovery Church’s youth group- Revolution- was my first taste of something more, beyond the arts and crafts of the elementary classes.

I don’t remember much from that first week, but I very distinctly remember splitting up into groups to pray, and I remember one of the older girls praying for me. I was welcome. I was loved. And everyone was there to help me along in my growth.

Now that very youth group changed A LOT throughout my time in it. I had somewhere between 7-10 youth leaders. We stopped meeting during Sunday service and started meeting on Wednesdays. At some point, we went from Revolution to Trek. Later, high school and middle school officially split up.

Through all of the change, I knew one thing to be true, if you wanted to find Cayla Aljets on a Wednesday night, I was- without a doubt- at church. Because I loved it. And I loved every youth leader we had. They loved me through everything. And they all got different pieces of the story, but it didn’t matter, because they were going to love me all the same.

Trek became my high point in the week, my refuge, where I could cry when I needed to cry and laugh when I needed to laugh. I was bringing in friends by the truckload, because I knew everyone needed somewhere like this.  And I wanted to do everything my little ‘street youth’ hands could do to help.

So I left for CSM, in the midst of me moving on from Trek, and I encountered different youth groups every week. As I observed and interacted with those students throughout their weeks I realized something: I didn’t want to say goodbye. At all. I actually hated saying goodbye so much. Because I had just witnessed a group of students go through God- centered, life changing experiences, and I had to just let them go. 

Everything in me wanted to continue with them, encourage them week to week after they went home, be a part of listening to their stories and telling them they are not alone. 

I heard God clearly then. He didn’t deliver a fully formed five year plan for me to review, he didn’t get too specific about anything at all. He just said “youth.” And I knew what that meant: that I was created to love on and encourage high school/ middle school students.

Coming home, I had that right in my view, I continued working with middle schoolers in Mayhem and began helping with high schoolers at Trek. Which is already everything I love and more. I have the opportunity to speak grace and love into students multiple times a week.

But here’s the really cool part: I am officially Discovery Church’s newest Youth Intern. Which is basically a dream come true. Maybe that sounds silly, that becoming a youth intern is so exciting for me. But I have the opportunity to channel everything this youth group has ever been for me, into everything this youth group can be for countless other teens. 

“For I know the plans I have for you,“ declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”  

-Jeremiah 29:11

I believe there is good in the world, even that the world is mostly good. I like to marvel at the wonderful things around me. I like to make other people marvel at the things they might not have been looking at. I believe that God is at work making things better in crazy ways that I can’t see.

But a month ago my dad lost his job. 

He’s worked there for just about 19 years and the financial safety that my family felt was gone in an instant. 

And last week someone broke into the apartment I share with 6 other people, and stole my Macbook, another girl’s Macbook, and $150 in cash meant for staff training.

Another human being, that Jesus died for, that Jesus loves, entered a place I am trying to call home, without any regard to the worth of the people living here. 

And a few days ago, someone opened fire in downtown Oakland, 14 blocks from where I live. 

Three people remain in the hospital with injuries, and a 17 year old girl was killed.

None of that sounds likely a mostly good world. 

And in all of these circumstances, I was upset. Like the kind of upset where you’re not sure if your angry or sad or scared, but you can feel it in the inside of your elbows and you feel weak, and helpless. I’m not getting that computer back, and I can’t stop that person from stealing from other people. I can’t provide help for my family, while my dad looks for a job. I can’t stop shootings from happening right around the corner from me. I have problems and no solutions.

Somehow in those moments, it’s hard to look someone in the eyes and say that God has a hand in this. That God is going to use these situations for something bigger. It doesn’t make sense that the things that hurt us can be used in God’s story. How could he possibly use this?

But I know that he is using it.

My dad has the opportunity to find a job doing something he actually loves. And he doesn’t have to commute multiple hours of the day and he gets to spend that time with my mom and my siblings. God shut the door so that my dad could turn around and see dozens of doors open behind him.

As for the other things- my laptop, my lowered sense of safety, etc.- I don’t know yet. I’m waiting to see where God leads me. I still have questions and a lack of answers and I still don’t feel safe in my own neighborhood.

But I believe that God is allowing me to live in the tension for a moment so I may be a part of something greater of the other side.

Some of you that had the opportunity to talk to me while I was home, got to hear about how I was seeing God all over the place, in small things like a parking space or a pen. I realized that God is in all places at all times. 

So why is “God’s got it under control” such a profound statement? 

When someone says that, everyone in the room solemnly nods or utters a small “amen.”

Now I’m all about praising God in every moment. But one of the crazy things I realized in my conversations today with our new hosts, is that bringing up God was so casual. One of the girls mentioned, over lunch, that she wasn’t really sure where she was going with her degree and such. “God’s got it,” one of the guys mentioned, and we didn’t think twice before moving on in the conversation.

Because God isn’t a topic reserved for churches, God isn’t confined to ‘holy moments’, God isn’t a topic that you should wait for the right moment to bring up.

God is in everything at all times, so why is bringing up his name so uncommon?

In the community that I’m surrounded by (at least for now), we casually mention God as often as we casually mention the weather, traffic, or how awesome dinner was. 

Shouldn’t God be so ingrained in our lives that saying his name is as common as saying your friends’ name? 

“For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” -Jeremiah 29:11

Maybe that verse is a little bigger than the story I’m about to tell, but God has plans even in the small things.

So about two months ago, I had the opportunity to serve at Project Open Hand (POH)* during my training. We were reminded to grab a pen so that we could make notes after delivering meals. I grabbed a pen I had in my bag and off we went! 

But about two deliveries in, I could not find my pen anywhere, like I had it one second and the next it was gone! I was a little bummed, because it was a pen from a church I had attended and IT WROTE SO GOOD. But somebody else happened to have a pen, so it didn’t slow us down.

Fast forward to April 4th (my birthday!!), and I’m back at POH with one of many teams I have taken to serve there. And we waved goodbye and started on our route only to arrive at our first delivery to discover none of us had grabbed a pen. We’re frantically searching our pockets and searching the delivery tote when one of my leaders reaches deep down into the tote and pulls out the exact pen I had lost! 

Sure, you could write that off as a coincidence, like obviously I lost the pen and it was going to turn up sooner or later. But I saw God there, providing for the needs of my group, months in advance. 

That’s a small story. That’s a pretty small moment in the grand scheme of the amazing things God is doing here. But God was still there. 

It’s easy to see God in the big things. When everything is going well. It’s easy to praise him and thank him for all he is doing. It’s even easy to see God when you’re broken down and you have no option but to rely on him. 

It’s most difficult to see God in the small things, the everyday, the mundane, the coincidences, the boring moments. But that’s where you need to be looking the hardest, because God will reveal himself in ways that seem almost silly.

My roommate, Anghell, calls them “God Winks.” When you make that light just before it turns yellow, or someone pulls out of a space in a full parking lot right in front of you, or you find a pen you lost two months ago.

But go even smaller, even more menial, and you’ll see God in that girl laughing to herself over a book in the library, or in that person singing along to their favorite song in traffic, or in how bright the flowers outside your home are. 

God planned that. God has his hands in all of the details. 

As Christians we say “God has always been by my side. God has never left me.” But are you really paying attention to him the same way he is paying attention to you and everything around you? Are you really noticing that God is by your side in every single moment? 

“But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”  And God said, “I will be with you. And this will be the sign to you that it is I who have sent you: When you have brought the people out of Egypt, you[b] will worship God on this mountain.”” -Exodus 3:11-12

Day 41. I have been working for CSM for almost six weeks. And in this past week, my eyes opened up and I saw something glaringly obvious: I am not qualified.

I am not the ideal Christian that one would expect someone in ministry to be. I haven’t experienced a full life, with all of it’s struggles and temptations. Or more accurately I haven’t lived long enough to come out on the other side of it. I am young and naive. I haven’t graduated college, and I don’t have any marketable skills. I don’t read my bible every day, and some days I forget to pray. I don’t have eloquent speeches to inspire my groups and my prayers are simple and conversational. I am barely older than the students I am try to grow- in fact sometimes they’re older than me! I am extremely unqualified to be in the ministry that is growing the next generation of Christians- I’m still in that generation!

But I love God. A lot. I trust God. I’m trying to give him all that I’ve got. And God didn’t ask me if I felt qualified. God didn’t look at my resume. God has never been a fan of finding perfect people. In fact in every story I’ve ever heard, God calls those who have no business being the protagonists. 

“I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”- Philippians 4:13

God doesn’t call perfect people. He creates them. I am not changing the hearts of these students, God is. He didn’t ask me to to be him, he just asked me to be his voice. God chose me, in all of my imperfections, to do his work. I am not qualified to do God’s work, but God qualifies me.

Happy International Women’s Day! 

When talking about myself and the kind of background I come from, I often mention something along the lines of “I have an amazing number of positive male influences in my life.” And I do. However, what I have never said is “I have an amazing number of positive female influences in my life.” But the thing is, I do. I often don’t give the women who have raised me, loved me, and stuck by me enough credit for how they have molded me. 

And so now, on International Women’s Day, here is a love letter to the women that have shaped me into the woman I am becoming.

To the Women that Shaped Me,

Thank you. Thank you for loving me in an unfailing manner that I could never comprehend, and I have certainly tried to comprehend it. Thank you for calling me out on my crap and for holding me as I cry. Thank for laughing with me and encouraging me to be silly. Thank you for leading me toward God in everything I do. 

You have taught me how do mascara and how to read a book. That I do not need to choose between beautiful and smart; I am both of those things and so much more. That I cannot sum myself up in one syllable words. You have taught me that laughing out loud as hard as you can is truly healing. And that crying so hard you can’t breathe can be just as healing. There are times to be strong and there are times to let others be strong for you. You have taught me that I can be lady-like and still play in the mud. That getting your hands dirty is well worth the story you get to tell later. That the best adventures terrify you slightly and excite you a lot. You have taught me God has been coming for me since before I was paying attention. That He has loved me through every struggle, through every journey off the path. You have taught me that he has made me captivating. That I am the warrior princess of my story.

I am surrounded by so many of you that constantly remind me that I am worthy of love and grace. Whenever I feel alone, whenever I feel empty, whenever I feel hopeless- you are the ones that come for me and hold me. It is through your grace and compassion and love that I am able to see the face of God.

I love you. Thank you for loving me.

Love,

Let me tell you about a girl named Madison. 

On Friday, another group came in! And after we finished preparing the team for dinner I asked three students to pray. One of these students was Madison. She’s a young 6th grade girl, and obviously shy. She did not want to pray. At all. When it came around to her turn, she was so nervous, she began to cry, so one of her leaders volunteered to pray in her place.

At dinner I was blessed enough to sit near Madison. And I heard God telling me that he was not done with her. So I looked at Madison and said “by the end of tomorrow, we’ll have you praying.” And her eyes grew wide, and it was plain to see that it was not in her plans of how this weekend would go.

So Saturday comes, and I see this amazing girl coming out of her shell (turns out she’s not shy at all!). After a long day of serving and experiencing the city through the eyes of the least of these, every student came back with stories upon stories. And Madison, man, God came for her in an unbelievable way.

It’s time to pray again and she is chosen to pray. And her turns come, and God comes like you would never expect and she prays. Out loud. In front of 17 other people. And not a simple one liner. She gives it all she’s got. And I am overcome with a joy that only God can provide.

And I could not help but want to cheer for her every prayer after that. In our prayer tour, this girl- that God is awakening in so many ways- cries in her prayer. And she prays through the tears. And the spirit filled her. And she shared so much insight. 

And I got to hear more about her. As of Friday (when the group arrived), she really only knew one other student on the trip. She had just recently begun attending the youth group. This is all relatively new for her. And God showed her prayer. God brought her close and said “do not fear, for I am with you always.”

As briefly mentioned before, this isn’t my first time doing ministry in the Bay Area. Though this trip is definitely inducing a lot of firsts. And my last time in San Francisco was less than a week. It was like 5 days. In June 2015, Trek came to SF with YWAM and I fell in love with the city. It was dirty. It was scary. It was huge. It was beautiful. It was majestic. It was everything I loved. And once again in my story, I found God there, saying “where have you been?”

As quickly as it all began, it was over. I wanted to go back. I didn’t know how. I didn’t understand what I was to do there, but I was ready. And on the way home from the airport, Kelsey (one of the most lovely people I know) mentioned that her and her husband (”Worship Master”, Wade) had almost done this “city host” thing with CSM. The plans fell through and they decided not to, but she said it was a great program regardless.

So I looked it up. And I thought “yes! This is it, this where I need to be!” In July I went with my mom to college orientation and had a good day and we finished and she asked me what I thought, so I told her it was great, but I wanted to go to San Francisco with CSM. That was not the right answer.

Understandably my mom would like me to have a very clear plan or at least a safety net (in the form of a degree) to fall back on. And so after much deliberating, I dropped it. That was in July.

The following months there was an aching in my soul. I wanted to feel as deeply as I had in SF again. I couldn’t find it at home. I felt lost and desperate for something to grasp onto. But I was also more confident in my relationship with God than I had felt in a while. So in October, I took a risk.

I applied to be a Spring City Host with CSM, and I didn’t tell my mom. And a week or so later I got the request to set up a phone interview. And so the time had come.

We were in the midst of an argument when I said “I applied for CSM, I have a phone interview next week.” That was not the right answer. Time and place kids, time and place.

She came around. I explained the position more, and CSM more, and my “plan” more. And then she conceded. And then she began to encourage me. And quickly she became my number one supporter in all of it. (And because I know she’s reading this, I love you Mom, and I miss you bunches!)

The phone interview turned into waiting for my references, which turned into an in person interview with the Denver staff, which turned into a Skype call with the SF staff. And later that day, hours before my family’s annual Christmas party, I got a phone call from Kim and Jason telling me they’d like to officially offer me the job! (I’m sure you can figure out that I accepted.)

“Even though I walkthrough the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” Psalms 23:4-6

In June of 2015, when I went to SF with Trek (through YWAM), one of the groups I got to serve with meet a homeless man that called himself “Pastor Allen.” Pastor Allen is not an ordained pastor of a church, but he considers  himself pastor to all the homeless in the Tenderloin. As we sat and spoke with him that day, we prayed with him, he prayed for us, he had us all speak Psalms 23:4-6 with him, and he told us all about his life. How he had seen angels; how God showed him who he was to be to his fellow man; how to make them believe, he must become like them. 

The biggest thing he said, that has stuck to me to this day: “I am a warrior.” Because we are. We are warriors for God, battling against the forces of darkness around us, fighting for the hearts of those near to us.

And today, eight months later, I saw Pastor Allen again. And I don’t know if he remembered me, but his face lit up when I said “Pastor Allen? Is that you? My name is Cayla, I met you last summer!” He smiled and I could tell that the sheer fact that I remembered his name, his face, and who he was, meant just as much or more to him that any tangible need I could have met that day.

This morning I had the opportunity to go back to Oaklife Church, in Oakland. And we worshiped, we talked, and a few people got to share their story. And I have to share some of the things they said that made me go “woah.”

“I believed [others] could get better, but not me.”

“I wanted to die, because I knew it would be better than living like this.”

“I am incredibly and wonderfully strong.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be over this, and that’s okay.”

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“Behind the struggle, is blessing.”

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“I am not a victim unless I choose to be.”

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“He was in my corner when no one else should have been.”

“When no one believed in us, we believed in each other.”

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“God ruined my life, and I hope he ruins yours.”

“Find out how God has ruined you, and run there.”

“Even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.” Psalms 139:10

So I’m here. In Oakland, California. As I end Day 9 of my time here, I sit down at 10:32 in the evening because I have to tell you what God is doing and what he is putting in my heart (and because my mom reminded me I should keep in touch ;). ) 

Okay, so let’s jump in. On Wednesday February 3rd at like 7/8 in the morning I had to say goodbye to my mom, unpack my stuff, and try not to cry. And then we began training. I got the opportunity to meet everyone on the amazing staff I get to be a part of this spring. The City Directors- Jason and Kim; the Apprentices- Micah, Jessica, and Ashley; and the other host/ my new bunkmate- Anghell. They’re amazing and wonderful and I’m sure I’ll talk more about them at some point, but this post is about me and God. 

I wanted to cry most of the day, everyday until the 6th-ish? I missed my friends, I missed my family, I missed my church. And suddenly I’m sitting here wondering if I even made the right choice to come here- maybe I wasn’t really following God? Maybe that was all in my head? Did I just jump into something that I am neither ready for nor good enough to do?

So I said, “God, what am I doing here? Is this a mistake? Please, just show me that you meant for me to do this.” And boy did he deliver.

Sunday rolls around and we are all going to Jessica’s church, because she gets to talk about CSM with her congregation for a few minutes. We arrived late, so I awkwardly stumble through the last part of the last song and then the pastor begins his message: “Burn The Plow”. 

The story in 1 Kings 19 is that Elijah finds Elisha, this guy who plows the fields of a likely wealthy family. Elisha probably has a good life and good stability. And Elijah comes and gives him the call of God. And Elisha’s response is “Okay, I’m going to say goodbye, and the I will come with you.” And then he slaughters his oxen and burns his plow. He removed his safety net, his Plan B, his just-in-case. See, God said “Go.” And Elisha said “Okay, I am all in.”

And I just about lost my mind hearing this message. I had done it! I had burned my plow! I left my friends, my family, my church, and I had done it, God said “go,” and I did it! And so, of course, I cried. A lot. I cried the entire end of message song. I cried taking communion. And I would’ve cried more if the song had kept going. But here’s the thing, these tears weren’t because I missed home. These tears were because I heard God, telling me, “Yes! You did it! I am so proud! I love you so much!” 

And from there I started to change. And I said, okay God, it’s you and me, what am I doing? 

Training was rough- long days, sleepless nights, missing everything I knew while also trying to capture everything I was seeing and learning. It was rough. But by the end of training I realized I suddenly felt prepared and ready and good enough. And some of that was because of the amazing preparation the staff shared, but so much more of that was God, easing my worries and turning my fear into joy.

And today, the first Spring group arrived! I get to shadow the apprentices (who have all done this before), and really get a feel for how I get to lead before my first group comes in on Sunday. And tonight I really got to just be a part of the group, eat dinner with the students, participate in the games, etc. And my fears are just melting away, because I have such a gracious God who is taking care of all the hard stuff, and I can see that.

In all of these amazing things God is doing, I also find a lot of questions being raised in my heart. What’s next? I love missions. I love middle school/ high school ministry. But where do I go, what do I do with these things? Not just what’s next in my long term future but what’s next when Spring is over? Do I stay here? Go home? Follow one of the other ministries I’ve looked into? Only God knows, and he’s doing on a good job of keeping me on my toes and encouraging me to just pray and trust!

So, I ask for your prayers, for the time that I’m here as well as the decisions I need to make for my future. Pray for strength for me as I miss all of you so much.

On a lighter note to finish, I know this was a LONG post! I’ll try to make it shorter next time- maybe. I have a lot to say and all of it was important! As far as future posts, I’m going to try to update weekly-ish with what’s been going on here, but I also will be writing some posts on other things that are only loosely affiliated with what’s happening day-by-day. Like soon I’ll write a post about how I got to CSM in the first place! And a post about why I used Ecclesiastes 3:11 as inspiration for my url. And posts about general things I’m learning about cultures, or SF, or Oakland, or me!

Thank you for being part of my journey, and my story.