bittersweet.

Six months ago today, I found out my dad was gone from this world.

It hardly seems like it could be that long. Six months? Just yesterday he was helping me move into my new house in River Falls. Just last week we were enjoying a weekend together at camp, playing cards with beautiful friends and marveling at the glory of the Lord in a sunset from a pontoon on the lake. I can still hear his voice singing me to sleep at night. If I think hard enough, I can still smell his cologne as his warm embrace envelops my broken heart. 

These may seem like weird reflections. But I cling to them. 

It is shocking how often I still experience that punch-to-the-gut sensation when grief overwhelms me. Even after six months, it is almost daily. My dad was my rock. He taught me everything I know about being a functioning human being. He knew me- and I mean really knew me, almost everything about me- and still loved me with his entire being. And even though I was far from dependent on him, I never imagined life without him. I still kick myself every day for putting up so many walls between us. There are so many things I would have done differently if I was given the time back- ways I would have loved him better, listened to him more, been more obedient and honest and vulnerable. But I was given such a beautiful 20 years with him. He was the kindest, most gentle, thoughtful, loving, faithful, tender, and caring father I could have ever asked for. He was my father AND my mother. And he was brave. In ways that I never saw until he was gone. I can’t believe the courage it took to raise a daughter as a single father. My dad was a champ. He was a picture of Jesus' love- granted, a very torn and faded picture, but beautiful nonetheless. For as wounded and broken as he was though, he is completely made whole with the Lord now. I love to reflect on that, often. He is no longer suffering loneliness or grief or pain over failed relationships. He no longer harbors the resentment or suspicion or bitterness that the world created in him. He has a restored view of his own self worth. The scales have been removed from his eyes and he is a more healed and complete picture of himself. 

I can’t wait to meet that Daddy.

* * * * *

Have you ever tasted bittersweet chocolate? It’s not that good. In fact, I’m not really even sure why it’s called bittersweet. Because, straight up...it’s just bitter. I ate a chunk of it plain when I was 12 and I think I can still taste it.

Here’s my advice. Don’t eat bittersweet chocolate.

BUT, the thing about bittersweet chocolate is that it’s actually fantastic for baking. I can’t pretend like I’m the expert on this, because I know almost nothing about ovens. Ours was broken my entire life. Literally. So I never baked. But I do know a few things, and what I know is that when you mix bittersweet chocolate with other ingredients and apply some heat, it’s delicious. 

Can you see where this is going?

Suffering, when experienced alone and outside of context, is awful. And that’s an understatement. Losing my dad was one of the bitterest things I’ve ever experienced in my life. I can identify remarkably well with the author of Lamentations in chapter 3, verses 19 and 20-

“The thought of my suffering and hopelessness is bitter beyond words. I will never forget this awful time, as I grieve over my loss.”

Sometimes it is simply the thought of my grief that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. The best word I’ve been able to come up with to describe the feeling is stale. After six months, grieving is becoming incredibly stale. I’m drained. Exhausted. Some days I roll out of bed feeling like I was just hit by a bus while wearing a giant suit of armor- flat on my back, several yards from reality, and heavy. And that feeling gets old fast. There is nothing sweet about it.

But man, oh man... when this bitter suffering is mixed with God’s perfect love and goodness, and some refining heat of trial and change is applied... the product is exactly one million sweet reasons to say yes to whatever God has for me in this season. The blessings I’ve experienced through my suffering are so beyond anything I could have created for myself, or for that matter even imagined for myself...

For example: here's something you may not know about me- in November, I was legally adopted into the Wicklund family. This is actually a whole other complex and beautiful process that I will be reflecting more on later... but what I will share for right now is that the adoption gives me a whole new appreciation for the concept of being adopted into the family of God- my Father in heaven loves me deeply enough to sacrifice everything to claim me, protect me, and care for me. Scott and Kara are incredible reflections of that. They love me so well in Christ's love.

And those three little squirts- those are their three kids. I can't believe that I lived 20 years without them. They bring so much life and energy to my world. I love the way the littlest grabs my face with both hands and puts her nose right up against mine, to make absolutely sure I hear her when she says, "Quisten, I WUV you." I love how deeply emotional and imaginative the little five year old is, and how his sparks of creativity manifest in bright eyes and wide grins. That boy lights up the room. And the oldest... he is steady and wise so far beyond his seven years. I love that I get to enjoy him in that delicate age where he is just beginning to test the waters of more sophisticated language and humor and thought. I literally cannot wait to watch all three of them grow up and walk with them through life. It has already brought me so much joy. 

My dad's death completely shook my world. The day he died, a whole series of events was set in motion that would eventually change nearly everything in my life. And that is not an exaggeration. Each day seems like a new adjustment, a new transition, and a new normal. And while all of it is so good, it's still ridiculously hard. I remember receiving that phone call like it was yesterday... I remember exactly where I was sitting, what I was doing, who was with me, even what I was wearing. And I remember those terribly bitter and panicked tears I cried when I heard the words I'd been dreading all day. But I also remember being surrounded and comforted by community. I remember pausing within those first five minutes of my grief process, taking a deep breath, and just reminding myself that I was okay. I actually spoke those words, "I am OKAY." Even in that moment, there was no doubt in my mind that I was going to be taken care of. I knew that the Lord had a tremendous plan and no matter what, I would be OKAY. So much of that had to do with my community.

This is just a sampling of people that have been an incredible constant presence in my life. They have been such a source of strength for me the last six months, and long before. They've laughed and celebrated with me, but also wept and grieved with me. A few of them have shown tremendous courage in caring for me- those few have been the ones to enter into my suffering right alongside me, praying and processing and loving with such commitment. Experiencing this kind of friendship has been another one of my sweetest blessings. It's hard to imagine separating from such a beautiful community... but after a lot of prayer and counsel from others, I have made the decision to transfer to Bethel University in St. Paul. I am walking into this move completely by faith, and it has been one of the hardest decisions of my life. I have NO idea what's in store for me at Bethel, but I know that God works all things for the good of those who love him. And for as much as I will ache to be back with this community that I've grown and healed in... I am certain that I will know them the rest of my life :)

Through all of this, my greatest hope is that I can be used. For the sheer volume of things I'm learning about myself and Jesus and the world, I can't imagine that that is outside of God's plan. The challenge will be figuring out what that looks like for my life. There are a hundred directions, and discernment is hard. But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that God creates beauty from ashes. I could make a million mistakes along the way, and He will STILL make it beautiful. I'm going to screw up- it's inevitable. Life is going to break me sometimes. But the more I'm broken, the more need I have for Jesus. And the more need I have for Jesus, the more I will run to Him. He can take those broken pieces and rearrange them into a more beautiful mosaic than I ever could. In fact, if they weren't broken, it would be a heck of a lot harder for Him to make me a new creation... which is what He's all about. 

I miss my dad every day. There is not a waking hour that goes by that I don't think of him, and if I could, I'd have him back here in a heartbeat. But I also would not trade this life for anything. And I don't think my dad would want me to. In fact, I am absolutely certain that he is bowed at Jesus' feet, thanking Him a thousand times over for providing me with the loving hearts that have surrounded and drawn me in. And I know that one day we will all be reunited in heaven as one giant family. Cheesy, but it's the hope I cling to. I literally cannot wait for that day :)

THAT is the definition of bittersweet.

* * *

Lamentations 3 continues, in verses 21 and 22-

“Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: the unfailing love of the Lord never ends! By his mercies we have been kept from complete destruction.”

I love that phrase, "dare to hope." Because hope is totally a dare. It’s a bold challenge, and it renounces all those places in me that tell me God is not big enough. When I have hope, that is my soul’s display of trust in Jesus... trust that He can turn my bitter suffering into something sweeter than this world could ever offer. 

Because God makes some pretty dang good chocolate cake.

I have come broken before the Lord so often in the last six months. I have had to lay everything at His feet. And to be totally transparent, I don’t even know what it means. I’m still figuring it out- and all the while, Jesus has been redefining the things that make me who I am. I’ve had to relearn what it means to find joy in Christ, as well as begin to learn what it means to find rest in Him. I’ve had to re-fight battles that I thought I’d already won, with self worth and identity and value. And every day I have to choose to walk straight into my grief and face it head on, even with the fear of being consumed by it... knowing that Jesus goes before me and behind me and with me, and has already conquered it all. Including death. Jesus conquered death. 

Simultaneously, our one greatest fear and our one greatest weakness was destroyed.

That's truth. Stop and think about that for a second. It's earth shattering in every sense of the phrase.

I am broken. That’s pretty darn bitter.

But I’m blessed and usable. And that is definitely sweet.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Praise Him all creatures here below.

Praise Him above, ye heavenly host.

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Amen.

friendship.

AGAPE LOVE: To receive it is extraordinary; to give it is divine.


I've been living a lot of life the past few weeks.

I sort of anticipated that things would level out after the beginning of the year, and I'd be able to sail smoothly through October and November. I had great expectations and great plans for a continued season of harvest and rest, just enjoying my friends and reflecting on where I've been and where I'm going. Sounds so nice, right?

Yeaaah, okay.

That harrowing first week was just the beginning of the new norm for me. (Who knew college could be stressful? Why didn't anyone warn me?!) The last six weeks have consisted of many hurried meals, frequent coffee overdoses, and several caffeine and stress induced anxiety episodes. And while I'm tempted to say that my bedtime moved to a later hour, it would probably be more accurate to say that it moved to an earlier hour... much earlier. Let's put it this way: I've seen the clock read 2am more often than I've seen it read 8am.

But honestly, through all of it, I've loved every single second. There was not even once that I wished I was somewhere else. Okay, once. Maybe twice. But then I punched that thought in the face and thought about people like these:

And these:

This is a pretty loaded post. For some reason, it's taken a long time to get it from my brain to my fingertips, but I think I've finally come up with something that I am proud of. I had to make sure that what I was writing was both truthful and delicately expressed, because this stuff is so important to me. Hopefully I've achieved that.

God has been teaching me so much this semester about what genuine friendship looks like. And especially friendship that is rooted and grounded in Jesus and His love. It has a whole new significance to my heart, significance that resounds beautifully with this new life that I've been given. I do not deserve any of this- I'm not worthy of the care I've been shown, or the love I've been given. But somehow still, it's mine. And I can't stop praising God for all of it.

* * *

If you'd asked me the meaning of the word "friend" when I was fifteen, I likely would have made some offhanded comment identifying things like Facebook, similar interests, inside jokes, coffee shops, and sleepovers. In my mind, "friend" was a term that did not carry much meaning. It could be used to refer to any one of the people that I interacted with in my day. To me, the word "friend" embodied a surface level relationship. It did not seem stable enough to me to be valued. It seemed like something that could be easily cast aside and forgotten. Mainly because that was my experience and because that was how I learned to treat others in response. Thank you, Middle School.

But my understanding of friendship has been changed so much since I've been here at RF.

Of all the misconceptions I had, the one that most consumed me was my need to identify which friendships I considered real. With some, I was outgoing and silly; with some, I was subdued and conversational; with some, I was spontaneous and adventurous. And I felt that I needed to decide which of these were the real friendships, based on what my "true" personality was.

What I didn't recognize is that all friendships have different dynamics. One is not better than another. Certain people bring out certain parts of our personalities. The connections we create through friendships are like intertwining threads that spill and tumble and stitch themselves together into one messy and beautiful knot, until a whole and complete story can be told. We supplement each other in wonderfully diverse ways. Each friend draws on and enhances specific parts of us. And it is through who they are that we can discover new parts of who we are.

Stop and think about that for a second. Because that is seriously cool. I think that is one of the most magnificently creative ideas God ever came up with.

Prime example. Right there. I'm pretty sure that atrocious expression had not EVER graced my features before the night this picture was taken. I don't even know what face that is. Some of the weirdest and most fascinating parts of my character are drawn out when I am with Elle... parts that are not visible with any of my other friends. But they are still completely me.

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born." -Anais Nin

All friendships serve some purpose in growing us.

And the greatest things happen when Jesus is the center of that.

Before college, I had little experience with what it meant to have friendship through Christ. I had very little familiarity with what it looked like to share my story honestly with my friends, or to talk with them about the ways God was working in our lives. I wasn't accustomed to praying with someone, or encouraging someone with scripture, or speaking truth into someone's painful circumstance. To be honest, I had no idea what that was supposed to look like.

But the friends I've made here have been incredible role models of those things. And they've taught me how to see those Christ-like qualities already existing in my other friendships. I've never had friends that I've felt are more trustworthy than the ones I have now because I've grown in love and appreciation for myself, for God, and for true friendship. My value of the people closest to me has increased and my vulnerability to them has become part of what bonds us. There is something so beautiful about being able to bare my soul to someone, new friend or old, and to really trust that they will care for and guard my heart, because they value me above time constraints and earthly things. The more vulnerable I am in my friendships, the more I recognize how much I CAN trust them. What a cool cycle :)

I find incredible strength in my friendships that are centered around Christ. There is something intangible that binds us together, and that is our understanding that we are ONE in Christ. We are part of the same body, in unity with Jesus and with each other. We are heirs to the same perfect throne, and children of the same perfect Father. We belong to Him, and we belong to each other. And we take much greater care with each other's hearts because of this understanding. I've experienced this kind of friendship more this last year than ever before in my life. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

* * * * *

Friend is a loaded word.

"Friend" means something so much deeper and more powerful than what I believed it to mean. A friend climbs up and dances on the table alongside you in celebration, but sits on the curbside at midnight with you when stuff gets hard; a friend encourages and supports and loves at all times; a friend sacrifices and intercedes. Because of some incredible friends that have been placed in my life this year, my understanding of all these things has been completely transformed. I sometimes still find that I struggle to feel adequate, both in my role as a friend and in other areas of my life, but even that internal battle is one that I am able to share the burden of... usually only to be told that I'm being irrational. But what's a friend for, if not to remind you when you're crazy?

When friendship is intentional and encouraging, it is exactly as God intended. We were made to be in relationship with each other, and to be Christ for one another. I could find a zillion friendship quotes and paste them here, but it still wouldn't quite describe the divine nature of friendship.

I will use one though. Somehow scripture quotes feel a little more legitimate :)

"I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you."

 -John 15:15

Wait.

Jesus.

Called me...

His friend.

This means SO MUCH MORE to me than it ever did before, because of my new understanding of friendship. To be a friend of Christ means that I am bonded to Him in love and in sacrifice. It means I can be vulnerable with Him and trust Him to care for my heart. It means that he is an advocate for me at all times, and believes in who I am. Jesus' friendship encourages me to use the gifts I've been given to glorify the Father. That is the beauty of my friendship with Christ. It gives me more adequacy than any other friendship I've ever known.

And as Jesus said, everything He learned from the Father He made known to us, as His friends. So, as friends to each other, we should at all times make known to one another the good news of Christ, as well as the good news of our own testimonies.

* * *

So, all of this is to say that life has been so good, even in the midst of so much chaos, because I've been gifted with beautiful friends that love me with the unconditional Agape love that runs through their veins. And in return, I get to enjoy them and love them completely, in all their strengths and weaknesses, as the divinely-created images of God that they are. I am learning the joy of what it means to have intentional relationships that are supportive and encouraging in the Lord. It is unfamiliar territory, but I'm growing into it. I consider it an honor to be called friend by these wonderful people.

I feel deeply cared for. Protected and surrounded and loved. Very very much.

God is good, and I am thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving :)

community.

Where do I even begin?

For the past eleven weeks, I have been happier and more joyful and light hearted than I can ever remember being in the last five years.

Eleven. Whole. Uninterrupted. Weeks.
I honestly never thought it possible.


I've started and restarted this blog about a thousand times. There are simply no words that accurately describe what is on my heart. They are feelings so unfamiliar and so intangible that I struggle to even understand them, much less share them. No language has the capacity to explain something so divine.

In this community, I was healed and restored.
In this community, I experienced the smallest taste of what heaven has in store.
In this community, the Kingdom of God was brought to earth.

There are so many things I miss about camp. I miss lounging in the shade of the boat beach, under blue skies with billowing white clouds, listening to the splashes of happy campers leaping from dock to water in fits of squealing laughter. I miss the echoing Rec Room, with its walls and chalkboard always slick with perspiration in even the tiniest hint of humidity; the safe haven and cool shelter from the hottest of days and worst of storms. I miss gathering every Friday afternoon as a staff to swap stories and share a meal together, to breathe that sigh of relief after a long and challenging week. I miss weekends of dance parties and hypnotism in the chapel, Wi-Fi gatherings in the dining hall and movies in the staff lounge. I miss nights of sticky s'mores and campfire songs and staying up far too late for no other reason than to get to know one another better.

But more than anything, I miss the summer staff. I miss the playful banter we would toss back and forth at every chance encounter we had during the day. I miss the counselor jokes, the goofy faces and voices, the skits and crazy costumes, the endless amount of hugs, the unequivocal acceptance we all had for one another. I miss being able to enjoy the strengths of my fellow staff members. I miss sharing in their struggles and their joys. I miss the prayer circles before and after every worship. I miss the love and support that was so evident within our staff on a daily basis, and even more, the acknowledgment of that love and support. I miss the comfort I felt around all of them, the fact that I never had to fear judgment or a "strings attached" attitude. We were one body, one heart, and one voice. And we still are. It is Christ's love that runs through our community and it is by his power that we are bonded together. The connections we've made go far beyond just the camp season. It's comforting to know that they will be there if I ever need them, to be my strength when I have none. Each one of them holds a piece of my heart.

The relationships I formed at Luther Point this summer are unlike any I've ever experienced. They go beyond simple friendship, into something so much deeper and fuller. The feeling of being so completely loved and valued brings me to my knees. They fill a place in my heart that I never knew was empty.

I know that I belong in this group. And that is a knowledge that is so transforming. Within the first three weeks, I could feel a change in my attitude-- towards myself, towards others and towards the world. I began to rest, actually rest, in God. I became more confident in my abilities. I felt things more deeply. I began to see the beauty in everything, and allowed myself to feel the power and love from God that had always surrounded me.

This summer was just what I needed, and God knew that. Every moment was lined up so that I could learn to let go. Let go of my hurts, let go of my doubts and fears, let go of my need for control, let go of my insecurities. In order to rebuild, walls must be broken down and a new foundation must be established. And what better place to begin rebuilding than LPBC, where life is profoundly simple and my biggest worry is wondering when I will find time to shower.

I have been blessed with an incredible amount of community in the last six months. First in InterVarsity, and now at Luther Point. Coming out of a first semester of darkness and isolation last fall, I think God has been trying to speak something true to me about just how important community is, and how restorative it can be when I allow it to interrupt my isolation. It's like light scattering darkness.

When we live our lives alone and separated from others, we invite lies. We begin to believe things about ourselves that would never survive if we lived in loving community, with people and with Jesus. But instead, these beliefs mutate and multiply, working their roots down deep into our identities until we lose track of who we were before. The darkness becomes more comfortable than the light, because the light exposes all of our dirt and shame. Soon, as Frederick Buechner says, we become "more than half in love with our own destruction."

It's only when we expose things to the light-- step out of isolation and back into the community that God intended us to have with each other-- only then that we can heal.

"For the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." -John 1:5

Satan fears the power of community and its ability to restore order to the havoc that he wreaks. He has no control over it and that terrifies him. And let me tell you: I love terrifying the devil. There is so much more strength in community than I ever imagined. We were CREATED for community. We were MADE for relationship. It only took me 18 years to figure out why.

***

On our final night together, we gathered for one last meal and worship. I expected it to be emotional, but nothing could have prepared me for what we experienced together.

Kwaheri Evening: Saying Goodbye

Banquet

We sang our staff song together after dinner, and I couldn't hold it together. I was overwhelmed with grief and joy. I thought that was enough. I was ready to pack it in and go jump in the lake to hide my blubbering. If only I could have been so invulnerable...

After we'd taken several hundred thousand last banquet pictures together, we made our way back to our cabins to change and then headed to the chapel for a closing worship. When I walked in, everyone was seated on the floor in a circle around a few candles, a loaf of bread, and a cup of wine.

Really? Crying. Done.

I couldn't believe the summer was over. It had slipped away from me like water through my fingers. It didn't feel nearly long enough. There seemed like so much more I still had left to do, things to learn, people to get to know better.

We sang a few songs together and then we all gathered in one giant hug with 80 arms around each other to pray. I remember wanting so badly to pray aloud, but not being able to find the words. Sometimes, there just are no words. So I joined the chorus of sniffles and just prayed silently, listening to those brave enough to voice their thoughts.

I could live in that moment forever.

We closed our prayer and found our places back in the circle for one last song. I think most of us expected to hear those opening chords of Your Love is Strong but it didn't make the song any less powerful. My heart just about broke for a million emotions when I heard it. It was that song that brought us together at the beginning of the summer. Within one verse, we had our arms around each other again, and by verse two we'd reigned in the stragglers (including Jesse Weiss) and made one complete and unbroken circle. By this time, I was no longer really singing but gasping for air between sobs and sort of shouting the words with everyone else. I was crying and laughing and singing and choking and completely worshiping. Like maybe more than I've ever worshipped before. I was outside of myself, praising Jesus for this beautiful family he'd given me that three months ago had been strangers, and now were some of my best friends. Singing that song that holds so much meaning, in that circle with those people that mean so much to me... that night is in my top 3 favorite life moments. Maybe even my number one. I will never forget it as long as I live.

Afterwards, we said our goodbyes.

I went straight to Holly and fell into a hug. We cried and laughed and cried while laughing and laughed while crying. I never wanted our time all together that night to end. After many hugs and many more tears, the night began to wind down until only a few of us were left lying on the stage together, tired and dehydrated.

No kidding.

***

I was a little surprised that I wasn't more sad to leave camp this summer. It's not that I'm not sad: believe me, I am. As a camper, heading home from camp was the worst part of my summer. I expected this to be exponentially harder, if not one of the hardest transitions of my life. Like Nicole said, "The only thing worse than this day would be my spouse cheating on me."

Extreme. But you get the idea. We all felt that leaving this community behind would be like abandoning a piece of our hearts. And it was tough, for sure. So far, though, I've had only one night of tearful restlessness. No deep anguish, no bottomless pit of despair, no insatiable loneliness.

But at the same time, it's no wonder. I am leaving one incredible community to rejoin another at school. And one just as filled with the Holy Spirit as Luther Point is. This summer was one of the best of my life. I may never have another like it, but that's okay. If the next summer were to be the same, with the same staff and the same memories, it would lose its value to me. I am sad to see these warm days tumbling away into history, and I am aching to be back with everyone, in that place that I fell in love with... but I know that whenever I am reminded of this summer, I will also be reminded of the relationships and experiences that remain, and the community of people that continues to live far beyond the camp season.

If we never left Luther Point,

if we kept this joy only for ourselves and never shared it with the world...

we would be failing.

It's our job now to be sent out to scatter the darkness in our own individual communities. We have been commissioned for service.

If God is for us, who could stand against us?

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.

"I've got confidence-- my Lord's gonna see me through. Whatever the case may be, my Lord's gonna shelter me."

Bre Larson                         Briana Berthiaume

Adam Reinke                    Joel Menk

Kayla Weiss                       Alex Bussewitz

Leah Schminkey               Mary Maiden Mueller

Kristen Olson                     Tom Mork

Liz Bowman                       Nicole Berry

Erik Carlson                       Nickers Lindquist

Erik Linn-Molin                  Diane Pottratz

Adam Hendren                  Josh Rice

Amy Ausen                         Rachel Hanson

Amy Hughes                       Emily Schroeder

Ashley Ellis                         Sarah Haley

Ashley Hammero               Jeanette Perrault

Sam Kolbow                        Alaina Heiskary

Ben Tolzmann                    John Head

Aaron Good                        Holly Stoner

Kaitie Kautz                         Matthew Swenson

Morgan Talbot                    Anna Morris

Kaitlyn Bredeson               Christine Wagner

Brita Gilyard                        ...and Jesse Weiss :)

                           I love you all.

undignity.

I am a camp counselor.

I cannot tell you how much I've waited and longed to say those words. This job has been my dream since I first stepped foot at Luther Dell Bible Camp over 10 years ago. I remember the awe and wonder at the connection I felt and the love I experienced, from a God so big that I could not wrap my mind around Him. I remember being so filled with the contagious joy and enthusiasm and radiance that overflowed from all of my counselors. I wanted to reflect their beauty. I wanted to be a part of it, and I wanted to take it with me everywhere I went. I left behind a larger piece of my heart every week I spent on Big Boy Lake. Every moment of Mighty Mighty and Canteen and Chapel and Free time. I looked forward to that one July week all year-- the week that I could drink in as much of my Heavenly Father as my little heart could hold. Luther Dell was my safe haven.

So... the weird thing is, I'm not working at Luther Dell. I'm working at Luther Point. Honestly, I'm still scratching my head.

I've now lost count of the number of times I've been struck by a lingering "homesickness" for Luther Dell. And somehow, every time, I'm taken aback again when I realize that my heart is still there. So why am I here? What on earth brought me to a place that holds no significance to my heart? No memories, no friendships, no familiarity?

The only explanation I can give for the winding, broken path that's led me here is that there must be something good here for me-- for us. God is as much here as he is at Luther Dell, and I know for certain that he creates life in some of the most unexpected places. He's doing stuff.

1) Friendships. Let's start with the obvious- the people I've met at camp are some of the most astounding individuals I never would have met had I not taken a job in this new place. I completely adore them and the community God has crafted for us.

2) Development of a deeper trust in Jesus. When things are new or different or changing, I'm learning how to trust him through it. I'm not in control, and Jesus has hands capable of holding the world together. Thank goodness.

3) Letting go of those things I thought mattered. Showering is a prime example. That's kind of a joke, but really, showering and looking cute and presentable are of the lowest priority at camp. Aside from those simple things though, I'm starting to more deeply understand the need to let go of things holding me back. It doesn't matter who has hurt me. It doesn't matter what my insecurities are. It doesn't make a difference how much I feel that others approve of me. I am who I am, and nothing less. Letting go of those things weighing me down is essential to accepting myself and utilizing my full potential as a camp counselor. I cannot be a role model unless I become undignified.


Being "undignified" is what I am struggling with most this summer. I am nearly always striving to be better and more put together, instead of resting in the glory of who Jesus is in me. It's in the dark corners of striving for self improvement that dignity prowls, waiting to devour my confidence. I am never quite the person I love.

So, here's to "undignity." My prayer is that the second half of my summer, maybe, just maybe, I could get a taste of it. Maybe I could let go of those things I used to consider monumental, and instead focus on the beauty of God and all he's given me. All the promises he has kept, and the ways he has led me, whether I realized it at the time or not. He is here and he is good.

That was then...

...And this is now.
And this change is a-okay. If the first five weeks have been an accurate representation of life at LPBC, that is just fine for me.

The differences make it all the sweeter.

change.

May 13th marked the end of my freshman year of college.

I can honestly say I have been markedly and noticeably changed.

I came to River Falls believing in God, but not believing in His love for me. I believed that it was for everyone else, but that I was completely unworthy of His care, and completely unlovable besides. I can't honestly tell you when this deep belief rooted itself in my heart, and I can't say exactly when it began to uproot and leave, but sometime over this last spring, I was changed in a real way.

The fears are not completely gone. I can still feel the last dark fragments of self doubt and insecurity. They creep up on me at unexpected times. As with any change, it takes time to grow into. I am not fooling myself into thinking that it will be an instant re-creation. Confidence and belief in myself and in my worth are all things that take practice.

So many factors have gone into this change that it's hard to determine just which have been most instrumental. I've shifted my focus from my own human weakness to God's divine power. I've shifted my worth from the people I've placed it in for so long, and instead trust my Savior with my whole heart. I am learning not to run from the sad when it happens, but instead to hold it for just a few moments- accept it as it is and allow myself to feel it. I've adopted a higher opinion of myself and my value to the groups in which I am involved. More than ever, I now feel that I really belong in River Falls.

I spent the last week in the UP, Michigan, with some of the greatest people I've ever met. I went into the trip with prayerful skepticism. I was not sure what to expect, and I was unsure how God was going to draw me closer than I already was. Somehow He did. It was deeply healing just to be with these people: to be listened to and cared for and loved by such a wonderful community of believers. A family of believers, into which I fall like a perfect puzzle piece.

Every moment I was there, I recognized new changes in myself. New ways that I was breaking the mould of sadness and negativity I'd been dwelling in for so long. Expanding horizons, pushing comfort zones, deconstructing walls. I have noticed how much easier it is becoming to share my story. It feels less like dragging it out of myself and more like simple sharing. That can be nothing but God's power at work.

I feel my prayer for confidence being answered more and more every day. I am continuing to dive deeper and deeper into who Jesus is and, in turn, finding who I really am in Jesus.

All glory to God.

helpfulness.

I took a spiritual gifts assessment as part of an InterVarsity Large Group team... thing. And I wasn't so sure about the accuracy. So, what did I do when I got back to the dorm? If you guessed "took 76 more spiritual gift assessments" let's just say... you're not wrong. Not surprisingly, the results were pretty much the same. Helpfulness, Music, Exhortation, Encouragement, and Faith. Expected.

What wasn't really expected was the wording of some of the questions I was answering.
Take this, for example:
"Do you feel that the Holy Spirit leads you to help others in small ways that deeply move them?"

Um, what?

FIRST: I grew up in a church where the H.S. was acknowledged but never really given power. I would never call my church "traditional," in the true sense of the word, but we definitely aren't a rock band-ing, hand raising, charismatic mega church. By any means. Sure, we have a decent worship team, complete with drum set and electric guitar; sure, we have pastors that have freed themselves from the confines of the pulpit; and sure, we've eliminated all traces of organ music... but I'd still call us a "developing" contemporary church. We're Lutheran, after all, give us a break. Anyway, I understand the Holy Spirit, but I have very little experience with his transcendency and power.

SECOND: I am a helper. That is my identity. If I am nothing else, I'm helpful. Seriously. The first words out of my mouth are nearly always, "What can I do?" I get it from my dad. He's annoying about it, and I'm nearly 100% positive I'm getting to be the same way.

So when asked a question like "Do you feel that the Holy Spirits leads you to help others..." I really had to ask myself: where are my motives coming from?

And continuing with that question, "...in small ways that have deeply moved them?"

"Small ways" is a phrase that has never come to mind in my helping experiences. When I help, I'm all in. For the difficult stuff. I like to be recognized as strong, dependable, and capable. Even though maybe I'm not. So "small ways" has never really been my thing.

And as for "deeply moved"? Well, wouldn't we all like to deeply move someone with our actions? Isn't that the greatest reward for helpfulness? Not even recognition, but just to know that we've made a difference?

I've never felt that my helpfulness has been "deeply moving." But I realize that this is something I long for. With every cell in my body. I want to change people. I want to deeply move.

My prayer this week is that I would no longer look for ways that I can glorify myself by helping others, but that the Holy Spirit would lead me to help others in ways that will glorify God, whether tasks small or large. Because if deeply moving is the end result, the only way there is the glory of God.