so what’s the moral of this story?

bEAUTY.  aMBITION.  fOLLOWING THROUGH.  iDEAS.  pLANS.  lEAVING THE PLAN BEHIND.  rECORDING.  PLAYING, SINGING EVEN (ESPECIALLY) IF NO ONE IS LISTENING, ENJOYING THE VIEW EVEN WITHOUT A CAMERA.  image

hOW WAS IT? a month with no set schedule, no real plans, only a limited grasp of the language and & few ‘it would be cool if’s? iNCREDIBLE.

  i WAS FREE BUT NEVER ALONE . eVEN SO, just as I needed to be there, I needed to return.  My responsibilities are here.  tHIS MONTH WAS PROMISED (BY gOD, OF COURSE) TO BE EVEN BETTER THAN THE LAST and i CAN SEE IT HAPPENing.

-just this afternoon, God made it apparent that He wants to teach me something new. That much I know.  Why the cello when I know I’ll be traveling extensively (eventually) I cannot say, but the free hard back rolling case, crazy circumstantial discounts and awesome awesome God convo convinced me that the timing is right to start (another) something I’ve wanted to do for years.image

wILL IT LAST? I’ll take lessons.  wILL I practice?  The cello is deeper, más profundo que un violín.  I may not have gotten very far with Greek, Latin, Russian, or Hebrew but my stubborn streak caught a hold of Spanish for one and refuses to let go. 

It could happen.  It WILL.  With favor and gifts come the responsibility to use them wisely.  I don’t know what to do with this large wooden thing that I knew I was supposed to buy, but I promise to learn.

I’m running again.  The good ‘ole Nica team early morning jogs down to the lake were painstakingly embarrassing at times, but even then I loved the feeling of arriving and now its at my own pace. cOULD IT REALLY still BE POSSIBLE TO Build ENDURANCE and eSTABLISH consistency?  dAILY? In everything. 

wILL IT LAST? I used to stop, a lot, and I stopped all together until last week, but Dad bought that treadmill under the understanding that we’d all use it.  He bought me shoes so that I could run.  With gifts come responsibility.image

While in Nicaragua, this last time, with this latest team, God asked me not to speak.  (For an entire day).  I wrote them a note saying Today, no singing, chatting, translating.  I’m sorry.  You’ll be ok.

I’m singing again- to myself at least.  It was amazing to see how animated I could become when I didn’t have a voice to supplement it, but tonight I belted it out.  The voice is a gift too.

I’m even looking into school again.  That’s a scary thought- friends are graduating and I stopped 2 years ago with an Associates.  I found this morning that YWAM has its own school though.  hmmm….

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I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive again.  I can hear my heart beat.

cAN IT LAST?  I’ve been so ambitious with so little follow through. 

wOULD ACCOUNTABILITY HELP?

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I’m settling into but not confined by routine. The daily alarm is set for 4 am fun runs (walks).  That’s new.  I’ve found some pretty colors and actually knew how to properly apply them to my face.  That’s very new. 

No longer can my “NEVER HAVE I EVER”s include some mention of eye shadow and jeans at the same time.   No longer can I hide behind indifference. It scares me- those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it.  I have not forgotten, i OFTEN WISH i COULD, but still I refuse to dwell.

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God has declared that you are new” (again)

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