A Joy Inside My Soul-Stories of Summer

Applications...friends...tattoos....paperwork...finances...

100 things cross and re-cross my mind as I work inside my favorite coffee shop in my new town...soon to be my old town if these plans worked out.

Caught up in my human concerns, it isn't until the darkness begins to seep into the windows that I look outside to see the storm approaching. Black clouds creeping slowly over the sun, showing between the buildings, a feeling of danger suddenly overtaking the once cloudless sky.

Shoppers hurry a little faster through the historic downtown streets, looking up nervously in case the clouds empty themselves prematurely. 

My heart beats faster and my Joy grows. That little thrill of danger, the quick flash of lightning excites me. I've decided that I could be a storm chaser if this teaching thing doesn't work out.

Suddenly, the deluge begins. 

From dry to streams in the street in 3.5 seconds, and shoppers run for their vehicles helter-skelter.

People begin leaving the coffee shop, young ones darting out as quickly as they can, older ones standing under the eaves longer, waiting for a slackening, a slowing of the downpour before they try to run--a little slower--to their vehicles. 

Others enter, parking as close to the door as possible, attempting to use umbrellas as they get out of the car, only to have them soaked and pushed sideways by the wind. Families come in, laughing as they wipe the wet from their faces and find a place to get comfortable. 

A grandmother pauses with her three young grandchildren. The kids discuss how fast they'll run, excited at the possibility of getting wet and dodging raindrops. The grandmother contemplates pulling the car up, but with a resigned sigh says:

"Well, I guess we'll just get wet." As they leave, three have beaming faces, while one is less enthusiastic. 

I pause my observations. Is this how it is supposed to be? When did that grandmother forget the Joy of running in the rain? When did the older ones stop taking risks, just doing, and darting out into the storm without a second thought?

At what point do people stop choosing Joy in ordinary circumstances? 

Was there a point when that grandmother began to view storms as unpleasant, a nuisance to the natural progress of life? 

What about the older ones, as they hesitate to take a risk, waiting for an opportune moment as the rain streams down the eaves? Is this something learned, or did it happen gradually, as they got older?

Risk taking, choosing Joy in the small things, I think they're all connected.

I didn't used to be someone who took risks. 

Calculated, well-thought out, work-the-way-I-planned risks? Yes. If you can call those risks at all.

Choosing something new where I didn't know the outcome, and jumping off that ledge with Joy? Never. 

My 15-year-old self would be scandalized at who I am today.

But because of the risks I've taken, my eyes have been opened to the Joy that a rainstorm can bring. The dark clouds are more exciting than scary, and the cliffs I jump off of don't seem quite so tall.

There are many days where I hesitate to jump, and my 15-year-old self begins to scream at me to stop. 

Then I shake her words from my head, and I remember that I don't want to go back to who I was.

I don't ever want to be afraid to dart into the rainstorm, or jump off of that cliff, no matter how high, as long as the Lord is whispering to me to follow Him in that direction, my Joy and fulfillment will surpass my fear.

The rain stops as quickly as it had began, and the Joyful sun peeks through the clouds.

Hanna Elizabeth 

Baseball games and spittin' seeds-Stories of Summer

Tonight I went to my very first baseball game!

Now, before you ask...yes...I'm 24...and seriously...I've never actually been to a baseball game before.

Sheesh people, it's not like its the great american sport or anything...

Anyway, my first baseball game, a fourth and fifth grade game, and I couldn't have been more excited. I'd been looking forward to it all day long, and I had the full experience. 

Close your eyes and imagine a little league baseball field. bases are loaded, and the kid up to bat is swinging with all his might to hit that hard white ball that whizzes at him, 15, 20, 30 miles an hour from a good pitcher. The smell of popcorn wafts from the concession stand, parents are cheering and giving directions from the stands, and you're spitting ranch flavored sunflower seeds as far as you can. 

Then, very softly at first, the rain begins to fall. Of course you brought your umbrella because you should always bring an umbrella to a baseball game. Or...your friend told you it was going to rain...

Soon the rain is coming down in bigger splatters, dripping off your umbrella in little rivers...and the water begins to pool in the spot your are sitting.

But the kids play on, so you stay, standing up to watch, and save your rear from a thorough soaking.

As I stood there, just as you've imagined, my friend Beth and I became aware of something amiss in this idyllic scene. Between the cheers of the parent, one mother seemed to be struggling. 

"If you don't hold the umbrella right here, the stuff is going to get all wet!" She exclaimed to her five-year-old, exasperated. "Why are you rolling your pants up? You're going to get cold!" On the game went, any silence on the field punctured by the mother's frustrated attempts to control her child and still watch the game. Every time he ran off to play, she was calling him back. Every time he brought her something to show her, he was told he should be watching his brother play. Worried about the blankets and chairs, and how to properly hold the umbrella, this mom seemed tired. 

I will not pronounce judgement on this woman's parenting for this small thing. I have no idea how her day had been going, or anything about her life, other than the fact that one of her sons plays baseball.

Instead, my best friend Beth raised the question that has become the topic of this long-winded blog post.

"Do the things that your mom values become the things that you value?"

For example, if your mom values the furniture, and doesn't allow you to sit on some of it, what does that tell you as a child?

If your mom cares very much about what other people think, do you carry that burden as well?

Or, if your mom often scolds you about whether your clothes get torn, or your chair and blankets get wet, how does that change the way you view things? 

We don't keep all of our parents values. Depending on our willpower, and our own ideas, we will often shrug off the things that our moms tell us are important. Which is why you have kids who haven't cleaned their room in months, even though mom tells them every day.

But the deeper question becomes, what do I, as a person who has influence on young kids now, and who will be a parent one day, want to communicate to my kids? 

When I think about what I want my kids to know is important, I know for sure, it isn't stuff. It isn't what other people think, or whether they get good grades in school all of the time, or what people say on social media (that's a full blog post for another time), or whether they get wet in the rain.

It's Jesus, and people. 

I want my kids to care about what Jesus thinks, and I want them to care how they treat other people.

Does anything else truly matter?

Hanna Elizabeth

 

The Call of the Lord

To say the Lord has been stretching me lately is an understatement.

These last two weeks has forced me to rely on Him more than I ever have in the past.

In the last 4 days, I have moved 7 hours away from most of the people I know, including my immediate family, moved in with a couple I had never met before, and started a job in a new town that I don't know how to navigate yet. 

For a once timid girl who never thought she'd leave her hometown, and at one point had plans to buy a house next door to her parents, this has been quite the change. 

This, admittedly, is both what I wanted, and have felt the Lord's calling to do for almost a year now. 

I have also been feeling uncommonly overwhelmed, and have been driving my own pity train off the cliffs of insanity for the last couple of days. (kudos if you understand that last reference) 

Because of all of this, and because I could too easily turn this post into a pity party of epic proportions, I am instead going to list the things I have been thankful for today.

I am thankful that I have a car that can help me explore town, and get lost every day.

I am thankful for the friend that called me yesterday, excited beyond words, to tell me about the cats she met at the humane society. She brightened my whole week. 

I am thankful for the friend that has been texting me all day with witticisms and funny questions about men I might find in this small town. 

I am thankful that you can get from one end of town to the other in 10 minutes or less, so I'm almost never late.

I am thankful for the coffee shop I'm in right now. Impeccable coffee, friendly staff, and only open until 5:30 Mondays-Wednesdays. This is truly a small town, and I kind of love it. 

I am thankful for the conversation I just overheard, about a man who hasn't payed his taxes "since the year after Obamacare came out." Enough said.

I am thankful for the couple I'm staying with, who have an evil cat, but who couldn't be more welcoming and kind.

I am thankful for the kids that I've gotten to work with over the last week. From the little girl with bright blue eyes who told me "by the way, I think you're beautiful", to the one who growled at me, and the little one with a cold who asked me to hold her hand every time we went somewhere. I'm so incredibly blessed that I get to work with kids all day. 

  

I am thankful for my family. The ones I didn't realize I would miss this much when I moved. It's been their support, a phone call or two, and the "good morning sunshine!" texts that have helped me feel loved..

I am thankful, so so very thankful, for my best friend Beth, who has been my rock when I've been a mess all week, supporting me, listening to my pity party, and, in true best friend fashion, telling me to suck it up when I've gotten too irrational with my worries.

I'm sure I could list a dozen more, given enough time, but it boils down to this:

I am thankful for the the guiding hand of the Lord in all of this.

Amidst all of my irrational worries, fears, and loneliness, I know the Lord has got me. He has called me here for a reason. While I can only begin to glimpse that reason now, He will show it to me in time. 

Do not fear, for I am with you. Be not dismayed for I am your God. I will strengthen you, and give you help. I will uphold you with my victorious right hand. Isaiah 41:10

Thank you Abba.

Hanna Elizabeth

Tis so sweet

Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus

Just to take Him at His word

Just to rest upon his promise

Just to know, thus says the Lord

This song has been one of my favorites for a long time. The version I listen to is so upbeat and fun, and I love the idea of trusting in the Lord, and how sweet a reward it is, when I know He has got me in His hands.

Sometimes, trusting the Lord is easy. 

I trusted Him to provide a place for me to stay in my new town, and He answered that one in three days.

Oh, wait, that was actually a week of waiting, and I was pretty worried about that for a while...

Well...I trusted him to....

Ok, scratch that. Trusting the Lord is difficult.

This week has been heart wrenching at times. Every day at the chapel, on my knees, sometimes weeping before the Lord, asking him, why? why?

My heart was filled with fear, overwhelmed, and a little angry.

How could he mess everything up? I'm not ready for this, I'm not emotionally prepared, not physically prepared, I'm not even spiritually prepared! I cried to Him. 

6 hours, and my plans were changed.

My perfect, tidy plans of moving that I've prided myself on, and that I worked out the the most minute detail. 

To quote my best friend "Hang on a second, while I laugh with God at your plans."

My first mistake was having tidy, supposedly set in stone plans in the first place. 

I left no room for the Lord to change them, fix them really, and so when He did, I played tug of war for a little while. 

If you've ever played tug of war with God, you know how that one ended.

As I've reevaluated, adjusted, and changed my course to fit the new plan the Lord was putting in front of me, the only two things I could do were to mope, and feel sorry for myself, or to trust Him.

I tried moping for a while, but I'm pretty sure He just chuckled a little bit and kept going.

The only thing I had left to do was trust Him, and start walking through the door He opened for me.

And lean on Him for strength. 

Another friend gave me a perfect analogy for my week.

"It's like you're on a path, and the only part of the path you can see is the small place in front of you that your lamp is shining on. I think your verse this week is Psalm 119:105-Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path."

She was right. 

Here I was, stressed out and overwhelmed because I couldn't see more than a foot in front of me, but that was all I needed to see. That was all He wanted me to see, so the only thing I could do is take only the ones illuminated by His lamp.

So yes, when it is all said and done, it is so sweet to trust in Jesus. Sometimes the sweetness doesn't come until after I trust him with my whole heart and ALL of my plans. 

Maybe, as I get better at trust, it will get sweeter earlier. 

Hanna Elizabeth