The Hippie Life

In case you were wondering how Fern is doing since she moved, I've decided to volunteer the details of my life, of late. 

I like Des Moines. That might be hard to believe, considering I spend more time in my car than I do in my apartment, but I do. 

But I travel. Ever since I moved I've been back and forth between Storm Lake and Des Moines, Iowa City and Des Moines and Minnesota and Des Moines. It's a good central location to everywhere I go in my life. 

I got back to Des Moines today after 4 days away, and I shall be traveling to MN this weekend. Gracious. How is my life? Busy. It's busy and full and I'm ready to settle down. But, there will be no settling any time soon. Bless. 

I won't complain. I like to be on the move. I shall feel a little spread out. 

Actually, since moving, I've quite come to wonder who I am any more. I think I lost my full grip on my  identity months ago. I don't know me any more. When you move somewhere new you have the chance to re-write your identity, all brand new, however you want. And I don't know who I am any more, so settling down here has been a challenge. 

I became a "hick", I guess, while I was away. I began wearing boots and jeans with holes in them and hoodie sweatshirts and baseball caps. (I NEVER would have done that before). But it was what was practical for hauling fence, wrangling cows and chopping wood. 

During some of my down time working in the office I browsed Pinterest for ideas on how to have healthier hair. I mean.. my hair grows really slowly.. I bleached it blonde in December of 2012 and the ends of my hair are still bleached... that's how slowly my hair grows. 

So anyways.. .I decided I would become a hippie and see how all that life would be. The all natural, just eat some plants, don't wash your hair, brush your teeth with baking soda, sleep in the woods in a hammock even when you know it's going to rain and preach coconut oil like it was the end times. I felt more unaware of who I was when I was on that kick.. so I decided I'm not actually a hippie. I broke after two weeks and started washing my hair with shampoo again. (I still showered everyday.. just to clarify).  

I also stopped with the jeans and hoodies and boots. I'm not a hick either. Currently, I'm a water-bottle toting, tshirt wearing gym junkie. But not that junkie.. I don't go out of my way to hit the gym.. just as often as possible.. so everyday or every other day. But I don't know that I'm actually a gym rat either. 

Because my lifestyle doesn't really allow for that anyways. I'm on the road every couple days and I don't work out on vacation.. although I do seek out hiking trails and will hit multiples in a day if I can. 

But that's weird. When did I become weird? When I became lost I guess. But I don't know when that was. I think, though, I'm trying so hard to analyze myself into a box so I can then try to find where I belong, but I'm so many odd different things I need to plug myself in so I have an identity again. 

I need roots. 

I need to grow some connections and branches and fruits of the spirit is whats what. 

But, that is basically where I am for now. Not really anywhere. All over the place and hunting for a job. HOPING for a job. Wishing for a job.  That's about it. 

God says, "Know"

Sometimes I forget that I ever started writing a book. 29 pages is still like a child's short story.. but maybe someday I will actually finish it. It will be called, God says, "Grow".. I think. That's what I'm calling it for now. Mostly because all while going through high school and doing a lot of street witnessing with my youth group, I always thought about writing a book called, God says, "Go". And I had done lots of Bible research, finding all the places where God told someone to go. To act. To follow, to obey. He tells us to go. 

However, when I took a Perspectives class my Sophomore year of college and became SO discontent with my life as a college student as I spent HOURS a week learning of all the people who were going and doing and obeying God's call in their life and *I* was wasting my life in college, I realized that 'GO" isn't always the message. The Lord told me to go.. yes. But He told me to be all there. College. I was a sophomore.. it was not the time to drop everything and move to Africa. 

What really hit me in the face was when, as a senior in college, I sat down with a missionary in Nicaragua and began discussing what it would look like for me to FINALLY go and move my whole self over to Nicaragua and be everything I dreamed of being since highschool.. a missionary. Yes I want to be a wife and a mom.. but a missionary would be SO great too. 

Someone who had walked by and overheard my conversation and my potential plans to begin Spanish classes so I could move over there without too much trouble asked me, "Fern! Are you thinking of becoming a missionary?" 

And then I realized.. I already was. The moment I entered into the Kingdom of God and said, "Yes, Lord. I will follow you." That was the moment I became a missionary. My whole life purpose is to point people to Christ. And I am going and doing in a lot of different ways. Sometimes it looks like me having someone sit on my couch, sipping coffee, telling me about what they're going through and me speaking whatever words of Truth the Lord gives me. Sometimes it looks like me rocking babies in a church nursery. 

Sometimes it looks like me putting money in the offering plate or driving to pick someone up for church. 

Life as a believer is life as a missionary. It doesn't take moving to Africa or India and raising thousands of dollars to live without electricity on straw mats in a mud hut. 

So the moment I realized that I was living my dream, and "going" every day, I shifted my focus to realize that, "yes, God says Go. And we go. But as we go, God says, grow." 

Grow! Grow where you are. Grow where He takes you. Grow at home, grow at church, grow at Bible study, grow on vacation, on retreats, in pain, in valleys, in darkness. Grow. Just grow. Grow your roots so that no matter what happens, you don't washout. 

I've thought about my book a few times lately and the progress I haven't made. It's coming, I promise! 

But you know what else I've encountered that's true of God? 

God says, "no."  Hahaha.. I chuckle. I laugh at myself because if there is ANYTHING I don't want to believe about God, is that he says 'no' to something that *I* think is a really great idea. 

I had a great idea for my life sometime last fall. And I *refused* to pray about it because I thought maybe God might say 'no.' I mean, I know the Lord, I'm kinda figuring out what He wants for me, and I had this little bitty hope but I figured if I didn't say anything, it could be as fleeting as all other hopes and my heart would be fine. 

I even told the Lord, "Alrighty Lord.. I'm gonna pray about this. But I don't want to because you're just going to say no." Maybe I thought I could reverse psychology God? My stupidity never ceases to amaze me, honestly. 

Sure enough, it was as I thought, God said no. But you know what, I'm really thankful. I'm thankful that my faithful God is steady and true. I could kind of sense that my good idea might not be the BEST idea.. but sometimes I like to play the, whatever-my-heart-has-been-damaged-before-what's-one-more-time card. Like.. I'm a live in the moment person. I occasionally ponder consequences.. but I don't actually really care if the present thing seems really great. You know?

But God won't let us have anything less than what's best. I appreciate that. I appreciate that my future is more valuable than my present desires. 

God is good. Even when He says, "no." Especially when He says, "no"... ESPECIALLY. 

Because you know what? "No" can be one of the most loving things anyone ever says to you. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, right? 

How many times did I have to say "no" to my nanny kids out of my deepest wish for their well beings?  But really.. if God said yes to everything, I wouldn't be all that convinced that He cared. 

Maybe when God says, "No" its sung on the same wave length as "Grow" and we can't actually distinguish what He said. "Grow, Fern. Grow."

When you're looking for a "Yes," or a "no" Maybe you should always prepare your ears to hear, "Grow." Because if He says, "Wait" He actually just said, "Grow." If He said, "Yes" He said, "Grow." 

And if He straight up says, "No. No way. No." He said "grow." 

Grow in your faith, grow in your truth, grow in love and truth and grace. Grow in obedience and compassion and selflessness. Just grow. 

And above alll else, prepare your ears to hear, "I love you." Because that's what He said louder than His other answers. He withholds no GOOD thing from those He loves. He knows the plans He has for you! Plans to prosper you and not to harm you! Plans to give you a hope and a future! 

Plans. Plans that require some "no." Plans that require you to be still and know. Know that He is God. 

Waiting

Step by step by step by step. 

I named this blog One Step at a Time because sometimes, that's all I can do. One step. One fractional, inch of a step. 

Some days trusting The Lord comes naturally, and sometimes, I focus on the winds and the rains and waters and I begin sinking. When Peter sank, the Bible says that "Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught him." Immediately. 

Some days I feel like I'm sinking two days in a row. Or three. Or... a whole week..or month. I don't know.. somethings just feel... off. Where is the joy that is supposed to be so abundant and overflowing? Where is the peace? Where is the man walking on water who is coming to say, "Peace be Still." 
I find myself with the faith of the disciples some times. When I look out on the water I see a ghost. Jesus, my Lord and savior who I'd give my life to all over again.. just a vague silhouette on the horizon of  a great storm or windy, wavy, rough, unpredictable waters. 

When He seems like a ghost, it's really easy to look the other way. At the waves. At the rains. At the depth of the sea or the great odds that the boat is going to sink. 

I'm not one easily given to anxiety, but that isn't to say I'm not one given to anxiety. I am. Which mostly erupts in some sudden realization of how stressed or worried I am and then I just cry. I'll break down, cry a good hour or two..compose myself, sleep it off. And be calm for... who knows how long. It varies. 

I'm moved though. To a new city. New apartment. New streets, new neighborhood. Hopefully new friends. Hopefully new job. (A few things still in the coming.) 

Perhaps you'll remember that I have recently become obsessed with abandoned things. Houses and what-not. Cemeteries.. because those are abandoned bodies. I spend hours wondering after the lives that are no longer. Whatever they were, whatever they became. Whatever happened to make the soul leave the body. Whatever ever happened to the soul that left the body. I'm rather very curious. 

But I realized that part of the curiosity is stemmed from my own anxieties for myself. I'm easily given to believing false truths if I'm not careful to check it against God's word. So I'm easily given to slight notions of thinking *I* am abandoned. Or that I will be. 

I worry that I will abandon the life God had set for me and choose the wrong thing. And that the grand beautiful plans will sit desolate and alone.. much like the houses I find that are worn to the joists and covered in dust and aren't much more than an empty reminder that there once was life. Once upon a time. But the life has since left. 

When I walk through an abandoned house, picking out the living room or the kitchen or a bedroom, I wonder if the people who had lived there laughed. I wonder if they had been happy in that house. If happy things happened there. And I wonder myself if my life shall be happy. If it shall be marked by laughter and happy memories. Currently, yes. It has those things. Laughter and happiness. But if a house can have it and not, than probably my life, too, can have it and then not. 

As I wander in and among the countless gravestones of very young children and stillborn infants, I think about the life that never happened. God is in control of all things and I know there is no such thing as a child who shouldn't exist. But I wonder why they were here for so brief. And I worry that I shall never quite start my life. 

I feel like I haven't started my life. 

I'm like Repunzel in Tangled just, "Wondering and wondering and wondering and wondering 'when will my life begin?'" 

But the thing is. I'm not stuck. (I know that). I'm not held back. I'm nothing. I have all freedoms I could ever want or need. I'm just shy of a job. 

Perhaps its the lack of employment that makes me feel as though I have no current sense of purpose. 

I'm learning very quickly that it's not where I live that will make me happy, but what I live for. And how I live. And I'm bad at living. 

I'm bad at living with present purpose because I'm still hoping for a future fantasy. My little hopes treasured in jars of clay, waiting to be opened and lived. Sometimes I feel like I'm living. And sometimes I feel like I'm not. 

All in all, the Lord still whispers into my heart that He who began a good work in my will be faithful to complete it and carry it out until the day of Christ Jesus. But I'm rather an impatient person. 

I can just here my mother's words echoing in the background, "The goal is not the goal. It's the process to get there. Enjoy the process." 

Somedays I like the process, somedays I like the end point. 

I'm living in the future right now. I'm living for the day I get offered a job. I'm living for the day I will welcome my little brother home from the airport and be wrapped in one of his epic bear hugs. I'm living for this coming weekend with my older brother and a dear family friend. 

But I just wanna live. To be content. To be satisfied in the stillness. To be full in an empty house. 

That's all I want right now. My hands are open and my heart is hopeful. 

Learning and What Not

I feel like I start a good many of my blogs by saying, "I don't know where to start" but, it's true. Is there even a good place to pick up and and keep going? The reason things were dropped is because there was nothing to carry, so what is picking up?

By that I mean, this blog. It's been since what.. February? Really? Yes. So, do I give you an update or just blog like whatever, hardly explaining what or why there was no writing?

I ask myself these things. In truth, Life was the same old/ same old. I still am staying on my parents' farm. I'm working part time at the office with the official title of "Temp Office Assistant."

But those are just facts. I never intended to have  a blog about facts. This blog is for Jesus. It's supposed to be that, anyways. Roots, though. 

My great-grandfather, Chester Eggen, passed away at the age of 102years old a year ago, Valentines Day. He spoke at his own funeral. By a recorded video, with final words. 100 years of walking on the earth with Jesus and he imparted wisdom. 

Roots, he said. Grow your roots. If there is anything you do when you pursue the Lord, make sure you have good roots. Lilies of the valley, neither toil nor spin. They don't worry about anything but are so beautiful. That's from a passage Grandpa quoted. Roots.

I was uprooted and replanted here. And you know what I've avoided at all possible costs? Roots. Even now... especially now, the idea of putting down roots around here leaves a bitter sort of taste in my mouth. But don't get me wrong. I love my family, love my home, love my parents, love my siblings. Love my bed. 

But small town life is not me. My friend, Shawn, told me when I was first out here that I was here for a reason and I needed to let the Lord reveal the reason to me. 

Of course I was a touch bit bitter. I felt the Lord had me out here to make me realize the weight of what I lost. The Lord brought me out here to show me that he has the power to give and take away and good gracious, I better get it in my head that I'm just a small little human who has no control over my life because I gave it to the Lord. 

Which.. I learned that. With bitterness and less grace than ever a lessons was to be learned... but there was way more. IS way more. 

Okay.. bitterness.. it has roots too. Ugly, gnarly, nasty, strong roots. The little roots that you think should break, but you have to tug with all your might to remove them and even then, pray you don't wrench your shoulder out of your socket while you do it. 

I let that weed in my garden and that's been a problem. Even now, it bothers me the most. My heart was not made for bitterness and I'd sooner chop that part of my heart off and have a smaller heart than have any bitterness in it. 

But I am moving, hopefully soon, and I'm sure the Lord will do all the work on my heart that will need for repairs. 

But, about those lessons. I learned a lot about myself. I'm not a small town girl, after all. I'm so city/fast pace/ lots of humans girl. I'm city girl with the need for grass and stars. With the need for humans with grass to invite me to their grass in the evening after work or on a weekend. I'm a city girl with the need for hiking trails and hills and pastures and rivers and woods and nature. I need a mix of crazy and gentle. I'm extreme extroverted with the occasional need for absolute isolation with just the Lord. 

Coasting does not work for me. Days that start to blur together and look like the one before and the one after don't work for me. 

I really like NOT hearing sirens. My last neighborhood had arrests and fire trucks and what have you at least once a day. I like the quiet of the farm. I like the darkness of the farm. No street lights shining in my window. No worry about the fact that I took down my curtains last month. It's just dark. I like dark.

I learned that I like being busy. I like getting work done. I like looking forward to things. 

I'm picky about what kind of dirty I get. I don't mind being dirty, I don't mind being sweaty. But, I don't like having manure on my fingers or under my nails or on my clothes or in my hair. The smell bothers me. The idea of it bothers me. The sticky'ness of it bothers me. 

I really like being physically exhausted when I fall asleep. I could only get 5hrs of sleep, but if I physically wore myself out enough, I'll have the most wonderful sleep ever. 

I learned that walking down a dirt road is more delightful if you go 8miles than if you go 4, because by the time you get to the part where the neighbor dogs chase you, your legs are numb enough to go further than if you're only 3miles warmed up. 

I learned I REALLY love worshipping the Lord with humans who are worshipping the Lord. 

With that, I learned I really get annoyed when you can tell people are just singing. Just reading words to a tune. My heart feeds off of the energy of others. When the church body is coasting, I coast. I hate coasting. 

Hard work/ a well worked week, makes a sabbath sweet. I love that. I like extremes. I really do. 

Except for weather and human mood swings. I like those better and a comfortable, steady, predictable type.

I learned that The Lord REALLY blessed me with good friends. I have the sweetest, bravest friends. They fight for me, round the clock. There's nothing I could tell them that they wouldn't be ready with an encouraging word, Truth from the Lord, a good response, you name it. They are REAL gems. The kind that make you KNOW that you are ENOUGH no matter what and never TOO MUCH. The kind that make you feel "Just right." 

I also learned, my heart was MADE to serve. It is hard wired to the CORE of my being that I need to serve other humans. In any way. Every way. I *NEED* to be a blessing. My heart needs that. 

The Lord made me that way. The less of me there is, the more I feel myself. I *have* to be poured out so the Lord can show who He is. Not serving is like letting catching rainwater off the roof and not emptying the bucket to make room for more water. You never get to see how great the bucket is at catching water if its too full to catch  any in the first place. 

Coffee dates with humans. I loves those. I love humans telling me whats going on in their lives. Like, legitimately going on. "Hows it goin'?" greetings don't work for me either. 

The truth is, I've learned a TON about myself. I wouldn't trade my time here for anything. Well... I mean, I wouldn't trade the lessons I learned from my time here for anything. 

But sometimes I find myself wondering, "Okay Lord. Did I learn it yet?" "Am I done?" "I'm ready to return to the world now." 

I ask the Lord that a lot. Well.. not so much lately. I never heard him say, "yes" or "no".. but I'm still here so I assume he's still putting on the final details. 

Above all else, I've learned that there is no place I could go, no job I could do, no situation to be had that the Lord didn't intend for learning and growing and teaching and showing of Himself. Always, His fingerprints will be evident. 

I've wondered if my bitterness ruined my learning of the lesson the Lord sent me here to learn. But no. The Lord is in control of all things and it would be impossible for me to screw anything up because the Lord cannot be screwed up. I have so much peace in that. I'm quite thankful for it as well. 

Abandoned Things Are Just Adventures Left Behind For Us To Have

I suppose if I encourage myself enough, I shall pick up a canvas and paint something today. But we shall see. I realized, recently, it has been since I moved that I have completed an oil painting. The amount of half-finished canvases sitting about my place is rather embarrassing. Abandoned works-in-progress you might call them. 

That word, abandoned, is very often in my vocabulary these days. I worried my friends enough with my strange fascination with cemeteries that peaked out into obsession last summer. I've often enjoyed spending hours walking through them, whether it be by myself or with an other sweet soul, I've just found the whole experience to be peaceful. Albeit, a little disturbing at times when one comes across a grave so strangely marked or etched with some disconcerting epitaph, but mostly it's been a delight. Perhaps college is where I decided that cemeteries felt like an adventure as I would walk from one human passed to another. Always wondering what their lives had been like and what became of the human that bothered to place a monument in their honor when the person had passed on. I wonder what sort of adventures those that were buried had gone on and if they had been happy or not. 
The most amazing thing, of course, is that some of the stones showed that the person had lived to be 100yrs old and some only lived to be 1 day old and some were still born. Still born. They have no birth date, just the death date. Which is odd to me, because they had to have lived in order to have died, right?

There's a lot of thinking to do in a cemetery. I've often been told that the dash between the birth and death date is the most important part of all of it. The dash being the unknown of what happened between those two dates. I think, too, about my own life. My dash is quite full, and I rather wish instead of a dash, that my own grave stone would have a scroll that would roll out and proclaim all of the wonderful life that took place in my dash. "Lived life to the full" would hardly describe it. But all in all, I think about how in the end, I shall just be one more stone in a grave yard of many. Just some words scratched on a rock to be passed over by some other wanderer in times to come. 

After wandering through near 30 different graveyards in too many different towns to count, I've left some of my close friends to wonder if I might be a little disturbed to be so obsessed with death. But it is not death that I find so intriguing, but life that has come and gone. I would say it is too cold for grave wanderings lately, but the cold only lessons the amount I adventure through them. I was in one this past weekend, and although it was a bit too chilly to linger and wonder as much as I usually like, it was a good walk all the same. I have a handful of friends who have joined me in my enjoyment of such things and they were as delighted as I was when we entered into such a large cemetery as the one we did. 

They are also my same close friends who have taken up an intense fascination with abandoned things like houses and buildings and gas stations. I'm SO fascinated with abandoned houses. Like a human laid to rest is a body abandoned by a soul, is a house that sits empty and alone for years on end. It's amazing to wander through an abandoned house, knowing it was once a place of life and comfort. It's interesting to see what things were left behind and in what state the house sits unoccupied. Along with whatever was left behind in the yard, or the barns for that matter. The idea that life can simply just stop altogether is rather a lot to wrap my mind around. But it draws me closer to the Lord knowing that my life will never truly end. It will just begin anew, absent of pain or brokenness or sadness. 

I've decided that something abandoned is just an adventure that someone left behind for me to find. And I have sweet friends who gladly explore such adventures with me. The Lord knows my heart. He knows how much I LOVE to find an abandoned place and explore it and wonder at what was and is no more. I feel like the Lord blesses me with such things more often than I could hope. 

My friend's car broke down in Des Moines, which is the town I would head one way to go home and my friends would head the opposite way to their home. It's our halfway point for meeting in the middle. 
I was sad for them to not have a car, but very excited at the opportunity  to spend 1 or 2 extra hours with them as I drove them half way home for someone to pick them up and take them the rest of the way. 

We were told the halfway point had nothing and there would be no real place to pull off. We were COMPLETELY overjoyed to see by "nothing" it was meant, "Abandoned gas station." An abandoned gas station has been on our list of hopeful explorations since last July. MONTHS, guys. And of course we wish not to break anything in our enterrings and thus appreciated that all the breakings to be done had already happened. All the glass doors were smashed in and unlocked anyways. The back wall had been broken down and it was very evident that we were not the first explorers to happen upon such an adventure. Of course, we did not intend to spray paint, demolish, or plunder anything as the previous explorers had done, but we were quite glad that it was easy to enter and it was a very large place with much to see. 

There is so much to think about in abandoned places like this one. There was still an item or two left on the selling shelves, a whole rack full of travel pamphlets, fully stocked was collecting dust and causing the edges of the paper to curl. Pipes had fallen down, restaurant benches broken up, and the strangest art work spray painted onto the walls. Perhaps it would be considered disturbing, but I only wonder at the story behind it. 

From such adventures I draw the deepest comforts because I am reassured that I am not an abandoned work in progress. The Lord has never left me to be plundered or ruined, he has never given up or halted in-progress. He never ran out of the resources it takes to complete the good work he started in me. And He has never changed or aged or withered with time. His strength grows when my heart breaks and his peace reaches the deepest places of my soul. 

No wonder John always claimed to be the disciple whom Jesus loved. Because he was. And I am the Fern whom Jesus loves. I am the project that takes the most work. I am the tedious, detailed, time consuming, masterpiece that The Lord is delighted to spend all His efforts and affections perfecting. 

And He thinks the same of you, Dear Reader. Give the Lord an inch and He will gladly take a mile. Ask for a drop and He'll give you the ocean. A year ago, as I considered my life the most perfect, the most happiest, the most content it could ever be, I never imagined that I'd find myself covered in dust and ash as I maneuvered myself through the wreckage of a structure some life had left behind. Smiling at how my heart dances with each new exploration. Beaming at how my friends share the same love of exploration and adventure as me and delighting in how their hearts dance to find something left behind as well. 

We only had about 7 minutes in that abandoned gas station. I imagine we could have easily stretched it to hours. Taking our time imagining through each little detail of every little item left in that mess. Wondering about the child's stuffed animal covered in dirt, being amazed by the damage and preservation all at once. And all at once feeling entirely loved by Jesus at how much joy one can find in an old wreckage. Knowing that we ourselves were once an empty structure of abandoned decay before we allowed the Lord to adventure into us and make us the most joyful of happy filled castles He can. 


And we are happy. We are SO happy. Every adventure gives us a longing for the next. We eagerly anticipate the next thing the Lord will bring us to and hope with all of our hearts we will all be there together to partake in it. We find the biggest pleasures in the smallest adventures. Our hearts are hardly big enough for the amount of joy each adventure brings to us. The Lord loves us. More than we can possibly know. But we are so delighted by every little thing. 

And I am thankful. I'm thankful for my friends and their love for The Lord. I'm thankful for The Lord and His love for us. And I'm thankful for every adventure left behind for us to find and I cannot wait til the next time we find them. 

Love, Ferns, Friends, Water, Life.

Hello, Dear Readers. I hope you are well today! And if not well, at least joyful, and I hope your health returns to you soon. 

I know it was just two weeks ago that I last typed something out and shared it with you all, but I feel I've been away much longer. Today I dug out my old laptop, that I tucked away before leaving on my adventure to Florida. I'm not overly attached to my computer, of course. In fact, Id be most happy to get a new one...mine is now close to 6 years old and crashes on a regular basis (as you might recall from my traumatic paper writing experience last year). But I realized as I dusted it off today that 6 weeks is the longest I've been separated from it since I was just a child.. and by that I mean, since I began my college life as a 17yr old. 

It was sitting in the lounge of the Quadrangle on this computer that birthed this blog in the first place and 90% of all my posts were affectionately given their words in the hours I spent with this dated machine. It was an odd sense of being 'home' to open it up today and have all my bookmarks where I wanted them and tabs I'd failed to shut down still open. 

My manuscriptDraft1 is still open along with "How to write a book" google helps. In case I failed to mention it to you, I *AM* writing a book. With no real deadline or whatever yet, who knows when I'll finish? But, I'm 11 pages in and could easily make it to page 100 by the end of today... maybe I'll work on it?

Actually! I wrote a book while I was in Florida. Just a short little diddy about a traumatic babysitting experience. It managed to be 8 chapters of shock and horror, so the publication of such a book will probably not ever take place, but it was an encouragement for me to know that I CAN finish things if I push myself hard enough. I like starting projects, I'm not the best at follow through. 

Which brings me to Valentines!! I have not forgot, Dear Reader, that tomorrow is February the 14th and I should be taking this time to blog about my relationships and thoughts on love and chocolates. 

Actually, I have long sense put away the notion that Valentines Day is a romantical day. My heart broke the deepest on the Valentines I expected to be showered with romantical affections and came up empty than on the days I expected nothing and came up with a card from my grandma. My heart was made to be romanced by the Lord and He does a fine job of that every day. 

Valentines is for expressing my love for all the humans I can manage by sending the most pathetic, badly put together hand-made-with-love cards of all times. And if, by receiving one of my friend-entines cards, my precious friends smile, I have succeeded and my heart will be the happiest. My cards will be late, of course. By thats okay. I'm not about being confined to one day of the year. 

The Lord loves my heart, guys. He loves it SO well. I am an acts-of-service love language (as my primary) and it takes VERY LITTLE to make my heart feel loved to the bottom because the Lord's love takes up VERY MUCH space. 

For example, water. Water is a love language of mine all on its own because I'm very bad at remembering to drink water. Which is terrible because I was born with a kidney that didn't work and I've grown up my whole life on the one functioning kidney The Lord blessed me with. Now, everyone who knows anything about kidneys would say, "Wow! You must drink a lot of water, right?"
No. I don't. I forget ALL THE TIME. And that's probably really not good because losing a kidney at this point in my life would be a really bad thing since I've only got one in the first place. 
BUT! I have sweet friends who remember for me and will water me without me even saying anything. They just put a cup of water in my hand and my heart just dances! Or if I mention I'm thirsty and people I don't even know that well get me water, be still my heart. It makes me feel like the Lord Himself drew the bucket out of a deep well just for my little self. 

Another thing that made my heart dance recently was when my friend, Shane, found me a Fern. I have, my whole life, been seeking a real live human named Fern to meet in person. I spend HOURS in cemeteries meeting the Ferns of the past and my heart has always sank when I read of a Fern in an obituary because it was a missed opportunity. I've honestly been hunting for YEARS. I've been trying to think through making trips across the country to track down the Ferns that people have casually mentioned existing. It's been on my official bucket list since I was 13yrs old (That's when I wrote it in ink) but it's been a longer time coming. 

SO! Of all the exciting things, I had been looking forward to a potential Amish sleigh ride for DAYS (well weeks and years if you wanna get technical) and I was kind of sad when the weather was obviously too warm and the sleigh ride was canceled. HOWEVER, my friend told me to get myself to Kalona ASAP anyways without any further explanation. My friends and I scurried ourselves along and found ourselves waiting in our car in some parking lot on some corner in the little town. Shane showed up, hopped in the back seat (Because all three of us girls were in the front) and started giving directions. "I found a lady named Fern, and she lives close...wanna meet her??" I was in such a shock I couldn't even. 

Where else but Kalona can you just show up on some strangers door step, completely speechless and overwhelmed because the Lord loves you so well you can't even talk and one of your BIGGEST LIFE LONG DREAMS IS COMING TRUE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU?? Oh my goodness... there are no words. But Fern was as sweet and lovely as ever. She asked us to come in and sit down three times before the shock of having finally met my Fern allowed my brain to register words. There, the four of us sat on a couch across from her as she sweetly told of her life and how she grew up on a farm as a tomboy and loved the Lord and had many adventures. AND! ALSO HAD SHEEP. (ME TOO ME TOO ME TOO!). We almost had the same life... except she was an only child. But, be.still.my. heart. 

I have the SWEETEST friends, guys. They love Jesus and Jesus loves me through them. And they make my heart want to love Jesus better. Fern's coffee table was covered with Christian books and an open Bible and her home was warm and welcoming and beautiful. I hope with all my heart that The Lord lets me grow into a woman like that. With a game of dominos ready to go on the little table in the corner and a willingness to welcome four young people into my home just because one of them showed up a few days earlier and asked if it was alright to bring people over to meet her. I need to retire into Kalona so that I live in a place where people DO just show up at your house. I love that!!

The Lord loves my heart through a lot of things. I realized while talking with my friend, Anne, that there is nothing we have endeavored to do that wasn't one of the most fulfilling, wonderfullest things ever. We keep a bucket list, as you know. And we pursue crossing things off of our lists. And when we do, we dont feel empty.. it's not like we accomplish our goal and are left feeling empty... usually our hearts are so filled we're just overwhelmed. 

Like, friending an Amish and getting a ride in a buggy. We did that. And my heart still dances at the memory. But, we realized that it's because we've opened our hearts up to being loved by God that EVERYTHING we do tickles our hearts to the bottomest places. We built a snowman together this past Sunday and, honestly, my heart still just feels so loved. I feel loved at the opportunity. At the fact that I was out in the snow with some of my favorite people building a giant snowman and throwing snow at eachother and then drinking hot chocolate and watching a movie and talking about Jesus. 

Because The Lord has promised to give us life, and life to the full, when we pursue Jesus, we find ourselves on SO MANY ADVENTURES. I can't explain it well, but the more we love Jesus, the more Jesus loves us, and the crazier our adventures become. And there's no holding us back. I don't think there is any idea we could come up with that you would tell us the Lord could not make happen. 

The Lord is my Valentine and will ALWAYS be my Valentine. He makes my heart to feel SO loved. He LOVES MY HEART SO WELL. He just does.