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I hate nighttime. 

I hate being the only person still awake. 

I hate sleeping in the room we shared. 

I'm tired of counting time by Tuesdays.

I'm tired of dreading the 24th of every month.

I'm tired of time passing so slowly, yet simultaneously so quickly, that it takes my breath away.

I wish I was in Kenya.

I wish I was living the life I was supposed to have.

I wish I was teaching.

I feel like all of my friendships have changed.

I feel like I can't talk to the people I've always talked to.

I feel like I'm not allowed to be honest. 

I don't think I'll ever find "normal."

I don't think life will ever work without you. 

I don't think I know how to live life without you.

Lots of people have happy things happening in their lives.

Lots of people have reasons to praise God right now.

Lots of people are moving on. Forgetting.

I don't want to celebrate Christmas.

I don't want to have a birthday.

I don't want one more holiday without you here. 

I cry when our songs come on in the car.

I cry when I'm by myself for too long.

I cry when I try to go to Church.

I'm scared I'll never love Jesus the way I used to.

I'm scared I'll walk away from what I believed.

I'm scared that it won't even bother me when that happens. 

But more than anything..

I hate that you're gone.

I'm tired of missing you.

I wish you would come home. 

I feel like I'm drowning.

I don't think people even realize it. 

Lots of people are moving forward.

I don't want to move forward.

I cry when I just think about it. 

I'm scared that I'll forget, too. 

Please, just come home. 

...Please? 

The things they say

I'm sorry I haven't been around. I know you think I didn't hear you, but it's just that I didn't know how to respond. I didn't have the words to answer.. 

...the text messages:

"Today, I'm making a commitment to pray for your heart..."

I owe you more than I could ever possibly repay in this lifetime. 

"Been thinking about you, hope you're alright."

I'm not sure I know what 'alright' feels like anymore. 

"I think it's time we hang out again sometime soon."

It's been weeks.. maybe even a couple months.. since I've really seen you. You were just doing your job- I know that. You don't have to check in on me. 

"I don't want to be Debbie Downer..."

Well, you are. And I need something to be excited about right now. 

"Wah! I miss you."

I miss you, too. Greensboro isn't even that far, but sometimes it still feels like a million miles away. I'll try to stop being such a crummy friend. 

...the kids in my life who notice everything:

"Where Paige go?"

I wish I could've just told you she's at school. Instead, I said nothing because you're still so little and I can't bear the thought of your sassy little self not remembering her. 

"Grace! You really hurt my feelings! You can't leave my house without hugging me! What if you don't ever come back?"

I will never ever leave you again without hugging you tight. I'm so sorry that you already know what it feels like to miss someone so much, you're terrified of losing a chance to hold onto those you love. 

"You haven't been at my house in a long time! When are you coming over?"

Honestly, it's probably going to be awhile before I hang out for more than a few minutes. Being with your family is really hard right now- maybe because I didn't even know you before my world fell apart. I just don't know that my heart can take more than a half an hour with you without falling to pieces. 

"Gracie, how come you're smiling, but I can still see sad in your eyes?"

You're only 6, and already way more perceptive than many adults. My eyes have sad in them because every time I see you, I wish Paige was here to take you out for some special time with her that you never got. 

...the acquaintances I see around Thomasville:

"Why aren't you in Kenya?"

Because God thought it would be really fun to pull the rug out from under my feet and leave me with nothing "planned" to stand on.

"I'm sorry Paige died. I didn't really know her, but..."

Why are you talking to me? You didn't know her, and I don't know you. I don't want your condolences. 

"No, my friend told me how she died. Maybe you didn't hear... I mean, you were in Africa, right?"

She was MY sister. I'm 135% sure I know better than you.

"Why haven't you been at church? We've missed you being around!"

Rich Fork is sort of like torture right now, so I avoid it when possible... and I'm only one person. No one notices if I'm there or not. 

"I'm so sorry! Can I give you a hug?"

No. 

If I'm short tempered... I'm sorry. 

If I'm mean... I'm sorry.

If I don't respond... I'm sorry.

If I avoid you... I'm sorry. 

I don't know how to handle people right now. 

On grieving...

No one ever warned me about how far reaching grief can be- how it stretches out, makes itself at home, slowly seeping into every corner of your life until you're consumed with it. And then? Then there's nowhere to hide; nowhere to go to escape it.

It was there this morning when I opened my closet to pull out a sweater, and her clothing still filled all of the shelves that we used to share.

It was there on Saturday when I spent 4 hours helping put yarn braids and fresh beads in the hair of this sassy little girl, and realized that Paige never got to see her with even the "beans" in her hair.

Grief was there on Dad's birthday when he opened his new grandpa sweater- the one that would've eventually gotten stolen and taken to Boone, just like all of his others, because Paige liked to curl up in them when it was cold outside. But now she's not here to "borrow" them. 

It's there every time I drive past Rich Fork, wondering if I will ever be able to walk into the sanctuary on a Sunday morning ever again without sobbing. 

Grief is in the eyes of all the girls Paige mentored, the ones who saw her as an older sister. 

It's there every time I see her red car in the driveway, and my heart skips a beat for a split second. 

It's there every time I spend time with this sweet boy, and I'm blindsided with the thought that he will never remember her. 

But, then again, neither will she...

And she won't either...

It's there every time I get on Facebook and click over to her page, knowing that people are still writing and posting pictures, proving I'm not the only one struggling to move forward.

It's in the texts exchanged between friends late at night and in the earliest hours of the morning because neither of us can fall asleep.

Grief was there when I set the table for 6, and then quickly pulled the extra plate from the table, hoping no one else noticed. It was there when I realized "all of us" wasn't really "all of us" anymore.

Grief is in my faded Chucks, the old letters I saved, the movies we watched, the laughs we shared, and our songs on the radio.

And grief is here, even now, as I sit in the room we always shared, begging for sleep to take me.

But I already know.. grief will be there, too.

He is holy. I am not.

Most days, I'm stuck in the in-between, somewhere between my head and my heart, hanging in the balance.

I try to cling to the things I KNOW to be true of Him- that He is love. He is constant. He has a plan. But I'm finding it nearly impossible to align those Truths with my current reality- how can those things possibly coexist with the chaos, uncertainty, and betrayal I feel?

He is holy. I am not. 

I go through some days enraged that it feels like He's not here, that He doesn't care about this mess He's left me in. I stomp my feet, shake my fist at Him. I rant about the injustice of it all, daring Him to challenge me in my anger and my sadness.

I throw my temper tantrum until I am exhausted and empty. Finally, I wipe my eyes, ashamed of my outburst, ashamed of the thoughts that I dared to verbalize. I beg Him not to hold it against me. I plead for Him to see me as the distraught child that I am. I beg Him to comfort me as the Father I know He is.

He is holy. I am not. 

Every once in awhile, I eagerly seek Him. I open my Bible, flip to the passages that always brought me comfort. Familiar handwriting fills the margins, the thoughts and wisdom of a mentor who owned the  Bible before me. But it's not long before the words on the pages all blur together, hot tears spilling from my eyes and down my cheeks. His presence is suffocating. I snap the book shut, willing the tears to stop. I can't confront His presence without also confronting the condition of my heart. Instead, I do everything I can to run- to push Him away, to withdraw from His touch, to turn my back on Him.

He is holy. I am not. 

I don't want to accept His kind of love- His love is dangerous. His love allows pain if it means shaping His child. His love calls into question all of the "what ifs" and the "should have beens" that creep into my mind day after day. His love refuses to let me hide. I want love on my terms- the kind that feels good. The kind that is comfortable. The kind that brings only good things and laughter and warm fuzzy feelings. But that's not how His love works.

He loves wholly, because He is holy. And I am not.

Going through the motions

Smile at the strangers.
Shake their hands.
Don't cringe when they hug you.
Answer his questions:
"I'm okay...
They're hanging in there...
Yes, I ate...
I slept fine...
I'm busy this week but we'll hang out soon."
Always look them in the eyes.
Just don't leave any reason for them to doubt you.

I bet school is crazy right now. She probably has her first round of midterms coming up. I need to ask her about her schedule- I hope she's liking her social work classes. I wonder how marching band is going? She probably spends all her free time editing pictures and going to the Parkway. I'll just wait to call her until this weekend...

Try to show up on time.
Smile and ask about class.
Play with choo-choo trains and Yoda.
Go to the park.
Put the little boy down for his nap.
Wash dishes.
Read a book.
Play music to fill the silence.
Just pray his parents get home soon.

I hope she's one of the good RAs. I need to remember to ask her to send me a picture of her bulletin boards! I wonder what her room looks like. Did her unexpected roommate move out yet? I need to go spend a weekend with her. I'll have to wait until she's not so busy...


Drive to Greensboro.
Try to eat dinner.
Ask about their new nephews.
Talk about puppy training.
Laugh at their jokes.
Watch a movie.
Just avoid talking about anything serious.

I wonder if Mary has heard from her? Normally, I would've gotten a letter by now. That's okay- I'll write her one in the morning. I wonder if she accidentally packed my blue cardigan when she went back to school? I can't find it... 

Keep the closet doors closed.
Buy new bedding- nothing blue and brown.
Don't hang up old pictures.
Pack up everything from Kenya.
Keep your Bible on the nightstand- maybe you'll read it tomorrow.
Don't touch her side of the room.
Avoid the emotional triggers.
Just leave all of her things exactly where they are.

It's weird that we still haven't talked. I can't wait until the summer- it's going to be so much fun having her in Kenya with me. She'll love it. We'll have all the time in the world to catch up. 

Take a shower.
Listen to music.
Turn out the lights.
Will yourself to fall asleep.
Just don't dream about her tonight.

It's been awhile since she's called, but I bet she's working right now in Cone. But if she's not working, she's probably already asleep. It's really late. I'll just text her in the morning. She'll be angry if I wake her up just to talk. She'll come home for a weekend soon...

Give vague answers to her text messages.
Don't hold their kids for too long.
Leave as soon as possible.
Think of an excuse:
"Not tonight, I'm just really tired...
I don't feel well today...
I already have plans with someone else..."
Just don't let them feel you pushing away.

Maybe I can go see her for Halloween. Surely she'll be home for Thanksgiving. I can do this.  Just stay busy. God, I miss her.

Clench your fists.
Bite your lip.
Swallow the lump in your throat.

She's not coming home. 


Just don't fall apart.

Counting the cost... Again.

Exactly a week ago from right now, I was in Kenya. I was standing on a balcony, in the home of a family I had never even met. I was on the phone with my dad. He told me, "I have to tell you something terrible. Paige died this morning."


My world stopped.


Fast forward a week. I'm back in the U.S. The funeral is over. The extended family members have all left to go back to wherever they came from... And I'm left with the broken pieces.

When I wrote my last blog post, I was sitting in an airport terminal counting the cost. I questioned whether or not obedience to His call was worth what...was worth who... I was leaving behind. And today, I am angry.


My journal- July 25, 2012: "I moved forward with obedience trusting that You were going to protect my heart. I left everything for You. She was going to do great things, but You took her away. You took her before I could even say goodbye. You said You loved me. You said You were working for my good. Where is the good in this? Where is the compassion? I'm 8,000 miles away. My family needs me, and I'm not there. How am I supposed to trust You? How could You possibly put the pieces of my heart back together, when You're the one who tore it apart in the first place? If this is some kind of test, I don't care if I fail. This isn't what I signed up for."



Today, I still feel a lot of those same things.

I'm still angry.

I still don't understand why I had to be so far away.

I'm still struggling to understand why a loving God would take away The Kid under these circumstances.


But today, I also have a choice to make..

Am I going to continue to believe that I serve a sovereign God, or am I going to deny it when the storm hits?

Am I going to believe that He is here, or am I going to believe that He left me to walk this alone?

Am I going to believe that there was a purpose, though unseen, in all of this, or am I going to declare that He's a God who only seeks to punish and destroy?

Am I going to seek Him in the weeks to come, or am I going to turn my back?

Will I choose obedience again, regardless of the cost, or will I choose my will because it feels safer?


Today, it's hard to choose. I am blinded by anger, and numb from exhaustion. I want to wake up tomorrow and find out that all of this was just a really bad dream. I want to see my friends, and not hear that they're worried about me. I don't want to establish a new normal, because I don't want to live life without The Kid. I'm not sure I even know how.

Father, hold my heart. Remind me that Christ is still SO worth it. 

Counting the Cost

I'm sitting in my terminal.  In a matter of minutes, I will be boarding a plane headed toward the other side of the world.

I thought I was okay with this. 


But today? Today... this is hard. Today I'm wondering if I really made the right decision. And that thought hit me. The one I was positive would never cross my mind...

What if I just didn't get on the plane?

Because today, this is real. And today, I find myself counting the cost... Is it really worth it?

My best friends in the entire world are finishing up school/ starting grad school. They just moved into their new apartment, and I helped them put together furniture, and paint, and make it feel like home for them. But it just made me feel sad. And kind of jealous. What will they be doing over the next 2 years? What jokes will they form that I won't be a part of? Will they have get togethers over holidays- the same ones we have celebrated all together for the last 10 years? Are they going to find some new friend... someone that takes my place? Will we even be in touch 2 years from now? What if they're different- what if I'm different- when I come back to the States to visit? Will they ever visit me? Will they even care to hear about my stories and about my adventures? What if something happens to one of them while I'm away? How will I ever find friends that could ever even compare to how incredible they are?  

And what about my family? Saying goodbye today nearly killed me. I've never spent a holiday away from them. What milestones am I going to miss? Is Seth going to get some kind of promotion, and I won't be able to celebrate with him? Will Anne find someone else to watch movies and laugh at night with? And what about the Kid? Who's going to watch out for her and and argue with her about things that aren't even important? Who's going to make the pies at Thanksgiving, or come up with crazy clues and activities for an Easter egg hunt? Who's going to cook Pinterest recipes with Dad, and supply the witty banter at the dinner table? Who is going to practice fun craft techniques with Ma? I'm not even good at it, but at least I make her laugh. Will Knucklehead attach his little self to someone else? Will Christmas just be sad for everyone with the family not all together? Will any of them ever make it to Kenya- get to experience what made me love it in the first place? Will my heart ever feel whole again without them nearby to live and love with?

And what about friends and mentors who have become my family? What if foster children leave, and I can't go over and love on their family, and cry with them.. or what if new foster children come in- become a part of their family- and I never really know them? What about when other families are moving into new homes, setting up new lives, and moving on.. and I don't get to be a part of it anymore? Who's going to take my place at their dining room table, or laughing late into the night, or giggling with their little ones? Babies are going to grow up- and they're not going to know me. Kids will find new mentors- they'll find new young adults to spend time and go on fun outings with. I don't think there are people in Kenya who could ever come close to filling the roles they've played in my life.

What if living cross-culturally proves to be took much for me? What if it's all just completely overwhelming and I can't handle it? What if it's just so frustrating, so exhausting, that I hate it there- or worse- hate the people? What if I just want to be with people like "me?" What if I feel completely out of place.. unwelcome.. like I don't belong? Will Kenya ever really feel like home? What if they misjudge my intentions? What if I mess everything up? Will I just want to come back to the U.S?

“We have left everything to follow you!”

 “Truly I tell you,” Jesus replied, “no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for Me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age: homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields—along with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life.

Mark 10:28-30

I am clinging to His Truth. He is bigger than my fears. He is holding the pieces of my broken heart. My God called me to Kenya, and He's not going to desert me now. 

Christ is so worth it. 

reality is setting in

15 days.

How is it even possible that I leave in 15 days?

Kenya has felt a lifetime away for so long. Now, all of a sudden, 15 days is all I have left in NC. It's scary. It's exciting. It's stressful, and overwhelming, and yet such a source of joy! Through it all, I'm praying that my eyes remain focused on the Lord, even in this time of huge transition.


I just got home from 2 weeks of training at the NICS headquarters in Mississippi. To say that I am still sorting through all the information I received is an understatement.. I'll never process it all, I'm sure! I got to meet the other incoming teachers who are heading to WNS, and also about 100 other believers who are being sent out all over the world. Many of them are first year teachers, as well. Good to know I'm not alone!

And so, I now gladly introduce to you.. the WNS staff (at least those of us who were stateside and in Mississippi).

Lori, me, Kennie, Lizzy, Gari, Emmy, Katie, Drew, Michelle and Hannah

As we prepare to head to Kenya, I ask that you would remember us in your prayers. Pray for the family and friends we are leaving behind. Pray for the new friendships that are being formed among us. Pray for our travels- we all meet up in London and fly to Nairobi together. Pray that we would strive for unity in all we do at West Nairobi, and pray that we would be patient and understanding of one another during the next several months as we figure out what it means to live, work and serve in Kenya.


I wish I could adequately express my thanks to all of you who have prayed and supported me throughout this journey! You are such a huge part of my story, and His plan!

Hark the sound of Tar Heel voices..

On Mother's Day weekend, I officially graduated from UNC! It feels good to officially be DONE! Four years have never felt so long. :)

Mom, Dad, the Kid and I stayed in Durham for the weekend. It was so much fun to take them to all of my most favorite places in Durham/ Chapel Hill!

We went and ate dinner on Friday night at Bull City Brewery. Seriously one of my FAVORITE places to eat! Everything is SO GOOD! Plus, they have fried pickles. I love fried pickles. :)

The Kid ran around Chapel Hill with me and my bff Christina to take pictures for us in our caps and gowns. We aren't very good at being serious. 

When we actually calmed down, the Kid managed to get some pretty good pictures! It was raining that day, so I wasn't sure if we would get any good shots. BUT WE DID!

We went back to Peabody Hall.. AHH, memories! This is where we took all of our education and methods classes. Basically, we lived in Peabody for 2 years. Two.. long.. years. We HAD to go back in our gap and gowns! And also practice our teacher hand writing on the boards of the biggest lecture classroom. :)

We made sure to stop at the Old Well, too. Had to get one last drink for good luck!

...and here's my tassle.

The School of Education ceremony was in the Dean Dome! Had to get a picture center court!

 Ritsa and Matt were a few of the student teacher supervisors (Matt was ours!). We sure loved them! They got to be our marshals.

Shaking hands with the Dean!

THEY GAVE US DIPLOMAS!

Jump Around! 

Matt and 3/4 of his student teachers. 

At the UNC ceremony... I'm that one down there... in the blue. 

And what do the newest alumni do after they have officially been declared graduates?

...jump in the fountain, of course!

It seems crazy that I'm already DONE with my undergraduate career. I loved (almost) every minute at Carolina. I loved the campus, I loved the traditions, I love the people who taught me, and I love the friends I made along the way. I can't imagine ever completing this chapter of my life at another university!

I'm a Tar Heel, for sure! 

Bittersweet...

Earlier this week, I finished my student teaching at Club Boulevard. It was a rough last day. I miss my second graders so much! I miss their silly giggles, and the way their faces light up when they finally "get it." They worked SO hard for me!
 I seriously could never have asked for a better group of kids. Actually, I could never have asked for a better cooperating teacher, either! I loved every minute of working with Anna. She's great with her students, and really let me feel like I WAS the teacher. She let me try new things, even things that sometimes failed, so I could figure out my strengths and weaknesses. If I turn out to be a good teacher, I will owe SO much of that to her! Plus, I walked away with a great new friend! :)

The kiddos all sent in money/ supplies and made me a huge basket of teacher goodies! I CANNOT wait to set up my own classroom and use all of it! Kenya seems so close, yet so far away! Come on, July!!

Here's just a glimpse of some of the sweet moments I will NEVER forget with my student teaching class. I love them so much!

Playing on the Big Kid Playground!

N, my sweet "bus buddy!"

S LOVES cupcakes

Working together!!

The "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" Club

Massage Train!

T's always got style!

I'm pretty sure J is actually a breakdancer. He help this pose long enough
for me to get out my phone, take a pic from behind, walk around him,
and then take one from in front. Crazy talent!

It seems like so much is happening all at once. I'm done student teaching... I'm working on moving out of my apartment... I graduate in 2 weeks... I never thought college would pass THAT quickly. I feel like I should still be a sophomore, trying to get a life plan.

Student teaching only solidified my desire to be a teacher! Second graders are seriously awesome. Makes me wonder what teaching first grade is going to be like??!!!??!!