snowy explorations.

TREASURES! Students, how is YOUR break going so far? It's snowing, friends. I'm currently messaging a camp bestie and watching the snow fall outside from my window seat. It looks awfully beautiful from this HOME of mine. ;) I'm stinkin' excited about my break. It has kicked off very happily. I just tweeted about a few of my favorite plans: "Writing & reading in this thing called free time. Coffee dates. CHRISTMAS! Family. Virtual camp bestie party. Snow." I'm here now, though, to share with you a few fun memories from today! Auntie, Uncle, Momma, Dad, and I went on a mini-roadtrip to explore some unique shops in some fun little towns farther away than we go on a monthly basis. We had a blast and it was just a breath of fresh air to not have an agenda. A few presents in mind, but no hurry. Ahhhh. Giggling. We do a lot of that, but I'm sure you couldn't tell. At the front end of our trip, thanks to SnapChat! *insert picture here of a cute shop that I can't wait to revisit that blogger won't let me upload. sad face.* The inside of this shop just topped of the whole Hallmark movie feel of the day. If I lived near this town, I would barely ever do school at home. They had some spectacular cozy coffee shops and restaurants. The best one was in a Christian bookstore. HUGE PLUS! Looking forward to the day we go back. I have contradicting emotions about mistletoes. Point to be soon proven. Hey boy... After our shop explorations and our toes were frozen, we decided to head for home in the snow storm. It took us over two hours when it should have taken us one or less. We just prayed our way through it! We were very happen to see those lighted snowflakes and wreaths around our town square. It was a fun time had by all and the perfect way to begin this break that will speed by all too quickly. With that, dear treasures, I need to be on my way to hit the hay just in case church isn't cancelled due to the still-falling huge snowflakes! Until next time, Emilee

home here or there - as long as it's with Him.

Home.

That word sitting up there all by itself stirs something in me that is hard to grasp. More than words to be described, it’s a feeling to embrace - this home.

Several months ago I started several pages in my journal with bold letters at the top to add more or less later on of further ideas on the topic. What does the page left with the least ink say?


“Home is…”


 What is home to me? Is it biblical? Is it meeting a certain person’s eyes? Is it that several level house on the corner with sparkling Christmas lights?

Home is a hundred places and a thousand faces to me. There is a little bit of home for me found in my comfy bunk in my favorite cabin and there is a little bit of home I still visit in my mind from time to time in the town that I detested. There is a little bit of home in the kudzu lined roads in Mississippi and the boring landscape of Iowa. There is a whole lot of home in my favorite street in this town of mine. The shore of Lake Victoria greeting us with a surprising breeze and the intense sun beating down on our faces - that was a little bit of home.

That still doesn’t answer my question. What is home to me? I suppose home to me is every puzzle piece that is a part of my life story, even the pieces it hurts to revisit like the memories of rejection and funerals.
The pieces that comfort me when I have an aching heart, the places I check into mentally if I can’t be there physically.  
All of these places and faces - everything that is home to me - have made me who I am. Movie nights with my family in Illinois and those sleepovers in Mississippi with my best friend talking about boys until we fell asleep. Sitting on our Victorian house’s front porch with my Bible after a long day being away from home or curled up in a lawn chair on the front patio at our house in that subdivision reading my favorite book series with a cup of coffee. Maybe it's not a specific place, but it's the feeling of home that met me in those places. It’s all part of my story.

No one has asked me specifically where my hometown, except Facebook of course. The funny thing about Facebook? They will only let you name one hometown. Hence, I don’t have one on my profile. Somewhere down the road when someone does ask me, I’ll name Clay town. When I answer, though, my head will be spinning with thoughts of small town Iowa and rural Mississippi. The pieces that not just anyone wants to hear about.

With Christmas just days away, there is a lot of buzz on whether this family or that other family will be ‘home’ for Christmas or not. It’s a wonderful conversation starter, but it’s a burdening question. Biblically, will you be home for Christmas?

“Jesus answered him, 'If anyone loves me, he will keep My word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.'” -John 14:23


With much excitement, I rode home on December 1^st from Illinois knowing that I would be home for the rest of the month in my beloved Kansas. Somehow, though, it’s been hard to get excited for Christmas. I will be ‘home’, but something seems off. Something is missing. Maybe it’s because I really miss my friends. Maybe it’s because I need to kneel beside the King babe lying underneath the care of His heavenly Father, virgin Mother, and forgiving earthly Father - and that shakes a person’s pride in a big way. It’s quite possibly both. On earth, the Lord gives us tastes of home when you look in someone’s eyes or when you are invited into someone’s home like they really desire you to be there. You can’t deny, though, that at the end of the day - especially when loneliness creeps in - you realize that it doesn’t ultimately matter where you are, even if that place brings comfort to you. You still desire something else & it bites at you like an annoying mosquito until you feel like you can catch it with your own two hands.
 

We were not originally made for all this mess. We weren’t going to have broken homes or families or lost hope. Adam and Eve ruined that one for us due to the serpent’s lies that so often make it into our own hearts. Ever since the fall, there is a lot of emptiness. I like to fill mine with silly temporary things. I hide in my loneliness and prefer to stay there rather than to risk getting hurt again. There is a desire for so much more and the fact that we can’t fully grasp all of this mess and glory braided together in the Redeemer’s name before we reach His kingdom drives us mad. We take our eyes off Jesus and we lose hope.

We can’t afford a lot of things this December, friends - but we do not have any room to waste our money on satan’s lies when we can’t afford to miss what Jesus has for us as we enter this new year. We’re strangers here and we need a Savior, a Best Friend, to come in and sweep us off our feet.

I recently dug out Tenth Avenue North’s album ‘The Struggle’ from my c.d. collection. It is so good for my soul. During Grandpa’s cancer battle I would sing these anthems on a daily basis. It’s amazing how the lyrics still apply to me this time around, but this time it’s with a few different battles.
　
　

　

As I was flipping through the pages of my Bible this evening in search of something to slow my heart, I skimmed several chapters in the Old Testament. What I noticed and was reminded of in that short amount of time was that whenever God talks about bring His people into the promised land - their home - it often follows with, "I will be their God and they shall be my people."

I found it. That, friends, it wherever home is. Yes, it's Kansas, family, the places you can be yourself, and wherever your WiFi connects automatically - but our real home in Christ is with the Father. For now, we're strangers in this sinful, lonely land, but we have the companion of the One that knows about that very sin and covered it all with His own blood so that we all could make it home to Him.

“I will take you from the nations and gather you from all the countries and bring you into your own land. I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules. You shall dwell in the land that I have to your fathers, and you shall be my people, and I will be your God.” -Ezekiel 36:24-28

You better know that this Christmas - I'll be home. THAT is something to get excited about.


 I got treasure up in heaven; I got dirt all over me,
Emilee

summer in december.

Tonight I'm taking a break from all my Christmas present preparations and simply reminiscing over my summer.

What triggered this sentimental occasion, you might ask? Frozen lemonade. As you know, I worked at a camp in Iowa for a month this summer. During that time, one of the VERY important things I missed out on was my fair favorite - frozen lemonade. Recently we found it in the freezer section of a store in the Little Apple. I jumped up and down with excitement. Of course, it means a lot more to me than just lemonade. It's walking around the fairgrounds with flip-flips on and getting dust on your toes. It's the catchy annoying country music playing in the background & the small talk you make as you pass people you know. I did miss out on that and so much more. I can't get that back, but to make myself feel better.... I slipped on my usual summer style, pulled my hair into a messy bun, and I watched all the musical performances in High School Musical 2. Joyfully I am still working on my lemonade.

While at camp, my besties and I sang musicals whether we passed one another in the barn, were doing dishes together, or making the fun walk home after a long day on our feet. The one musical that we sang the most was High School Musical 2. We indeed needed to 'Work It Out' so here's what we often sang:

 



 

So, how was camp? Camp was exhausting and emotionally frustrating. While being on my feet from 6AM to 8PM everyday was not exactly my cup of tea, it was easy to rely on God so much more than I do in the comfort of my own home.  I cried homesick tears more times than I'd like to admit, but I know now that the Lord used it all for good. It was a blessing to have such a diverse camp family - no matter how crazy they drove me some days. It was a hard month, but I learned so much. I got to watch the Lord provide the perfect people for me at the perfect times. From a visiting mother of nine that stayed up late talking to me about my dreams of a large family to talking about a junior camper about Africa... from a shooting weekend with a close friend on staff to sitting at the picnic tables talking with my best pals... The Lord didn't send a single person to camp an hour early or an hour late. He gave me the cabin to myself when all my sweet roomies went home for the weekend and old friends to come visit... nights staying up way too late than I should have on the phone either talking or texting... memories of snow cones and movie nights with besties before my departure... It really was a good summer. Looking back, it takes my breath away. It was confusing, ironic, anxious - but it was also completely God-orchestrated and sincere. He truly can bring beauty out of everything.

 

There's my touch of summer in December, folks. Here's to sharing more precious camp memories in the future!

 

Until then... I need to go write a few stories and listen to those songs that bring me back to the Kansas heat, rocking my shades, and our windows rolled down cruising my favorite town.

 

For an extra smile, here's the link to Disney's new movie Frozen's snowman singing about his dreams of summer: In Summerrrrrrr.

 

Thankful for memories that continue to make me smile and the lessons & people that the Lord will never let me forget.

 

-Emilee

 

•  

dear dietrich bonhoeffer...

Happy December, y'all!

Awhile ago I finished the book Bonhoeffer. *tear*
It was a very sad day, but it was also an exciting one. I could say so much more about this book, but I hope this letter will give you a glimpse into some of my thoughts. A book whether nonfiction or fiction can absolutely change your life. It can comfort an aching heart and become a good companion. This is Bonhoeffer to me.


Dear Dietrich Bonhoeffer,

You lived and died many years ago. In fact, right now in 2013, you have been gone for sixty-eight years. I am very confident in the fact that you are now alive more than you ever were. You have written many books and many books have been written about you. I’m sure you wouldn’t be surprised, but there is much controversy about you and your involvement in the unsuccessful conspiracy over killing Hitler. Although, most people know very little about you and, like most things, they judge all too quickly. I first saw your book at the bedside of the parents of some of the children I was watching. I read only the few words describing you being, “ Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy.” To add to the excitement and intrigue that those words instilled into me, this book is thick. It is over five hundred pages. Before long, I purchased this book written by Eric Metaxas a few days after Christmas with a gift card to the Christian bookstore. I started reading this book simply titled with your last name in a grocery store parking lot and just most recently finished it on my front porch, eleven months later.

I loved this book through and through, but I vividly remember reading about your childhood. I peaked inside the windows in your large home to watch your Mother lead you and your siblings to the Lord and your Father supporting her; never leaving her side. When you were only thirteen, you knew that you wanted to be a theologian. The day I read that chapter, I was that very same age. That made me smile. From the very beginning you didn’t mind that you were different from what everyone else’s expectations for you were. You were more concerned about what the Lord saw in your heart and your life than what the people around you thought looking from the outside. I don’t know if I totally agree with everything you said. How can one completely agree with another, anyway? I believe, however, that you followed long and hard after the Lord in all circumstances. This is one of the many impressions about you that will continue to stagger into the pages of my own life, I hope and pray.

Your book, or rather this book about you, became my security blanket. It is bittersweet that I have finished it although I am thrilled I finally did. It is bittersweet because I took ‘you’ everywhere. I took you to my Grandpa’s radiation appointments {he is now in heaven, close to you}, I took you on a million road trips, I took you to camp, and I took you along in my purse even if I knew I would never get the chance that day to open those pages. Your words continue to linger in my mind weeks after I have finished this book. In fact, I cannot wait to read this book again. Your words were rich. I got lost in how people rightfully so admired you and what they wrote to you or about you. Your perspective, I have found, lines up with mine as well. In the areas that we didn’t line up, I was comforted simply by the fact that even among your ‘Christian’ acquaintances, you were willing to stand up for what you saw to be true and righteous. You loved people and you ministered effectively. You weren’t worried about either Protestantism or Catholicism. You were concerned about being biblical and godly. You fell in love with Maria and loved her to the best of your ability until your dying day. The day they came to arrest you, the day they came to take you to your death, you went willingly and joyfully. Thank-you for teaching all of us, especially me, so many life lessons. I may not remember all the words you said, but I will remember how you inspired me. How you will continue to inspire me. Countless time in this past year when life was hard and lonely, I came to Jesus in prayer and my Bonhoeffer book. You encouraged me to spend more time in the Word and more time on my knees. Even though your companionship came to me only through paper and ink, in some sense, you became a good friend to me from page to page, chapter to chapter. Peace was dared, encounters were pondered, costly grace was chewed on, and love letters were exchanged. Dietrich, I believe I will meet you in heaven someday and I am indeed excited about praising the Lord beside you and the rest of His kingdom. In the meantime, I look forward to meeting you in pages of some of your own books as soon as I can get my hands on them. Until that someday comes when I meet my Jesus face to face, I am excited to live obedient in my walk with Christ and learning to do life together until my
prologue is over. 



Ready to read Bonhoeffer yet, folks? You should. Hope y'all are having a splendid Christmas season so far. We'll talk to you soon, treasures.

-Emilee

leaves fallen & seasons spinning wild.

The leaves are now on the ground and there is barely one leaf awaiting the wind to blow it slowly or violently to the ground.

The trees are empty. Yards are looking bigger. Streets are looking wider. We now anticipate the snow to come in an innocent fog of snowflakes to fill in the quiet gaps.

What we praised the Lord for so much for months ago is now gone.

The colored leaves we were thankful for will most likely be grumbled over                                                                                                            when we bring out the family's ol' rake.

In life, we love a season so much we're scared to see it go. A situation or person or feeling leaves us dreading a change.

Once we surrender and imagine life without that season in our years anymore - there is freedom.

There is freedom in being willing to let go.

That season - it may come back.

If the joyfulness found within that season is not restored as it was, the Giver of joy will stitch up all the broken pieces of what's left - all the broken pieces of you left.

There is a love for life when you know that it's still abundant when the season you want doesn't come in perfect time within your own calendar. There is an expectation for when the snow will fall. In between now and then, you rake the blessings that are right here - anticipating a new beginning. No matter how much we love a certain season, we can all probably agree that we look forward to every new season for just that - to start over in all things. Turning the pages of my calendar can be all I need to take a deep breath and remember to cherish right now. I'm loving wearing my TOMS and my scarves. I also know that when summer rolls around again soon enough, I'll be just as ecstatic to pull my favorite running shorts {no, I do NOT run} out of the closet. Every season change is exciting.

Surrendering also makes the situation, the relationship, and that specific season even sweeter for you when He grants that you can have it once again. Maybe differently. Maybe even better than before.

Autumn is still lingering; it just looks different.

As your situations change, don't grumble over what you once praised Him for, what you once prayed for.

Don't praise Him for colored leaves when you are going to soon grumble over them because they require something from you.

Blessings don't come as leftovers. They come brand new from the Lord directly to you. Sometimes, they come in odd shapes and sizes.

Blessings come in a million different ways.

In bringing out your winter coat, in sharing joy over a red cup from Starbucks, in receiving letters from camp besties, in your sweet doggy resting his head on your leg while you work on English, in living the life of a Greek student, in listening to Christmas music already, in those messages on silly little screens that make you smile real big, they come in planning an all-nighter with one of your very best friends... in all this crazy mess - we find Him covering every situation - and every season - with His grace in ways that others cannot comprehend.

I sat at the youth retreat with my girls on either side of me. The cross was before us and the stars were shining brightly. A blanket covered our legs and our arms circled around one another's. In the words of Skeeter in The Help, "We sat close because we were {are} close." We admired His creation and we shivered from the breeze. The lack of our cell phones, if even for just 24 hours, was allowing us to take a deep breath and ponder everything going on around us. We didn't cry tears, but our hearts were heavy with all of life's burdens - and the awe of Him taking everything upon His shoulders. The only reason I really cried all weekend was because I was laughing so hard. The Lord portrayed Himself to us in many different ways that Friday night. Our conversation centered around how everything had changed {shout out to TSwift!}, how fast things were going to continually change, and how His love would never... change. We promised to one another. We promised that we would not forget about each other when hours and crazy college schedules got in our way. When friends became boyfriends and boyfriends became husbands. When we started a family and who knows how many miles would separate us.  We also promised that we would disappoint one another, but that the Lord would give us grace for one another.

Just like November is, and just like every year - life gets full and time speeds by.

Days seem long and years seem short.

We can't stop time, but we can slow time - by cherishing. By treasuring Him more than anything else in the world.

So -

rake your blessings and jump in them.

Surrender all those seasons and situations that need His grace and not your agenda.

Be grateful unto Him right here - and start changing the world one little act of love at a time right now.

Don't wait for the 'perfect time'. If I did so, I wouldn't publish a single word of mine.

"What if the question wasn't what are you so grateful for? But how are you changing the world because you are so grateful?" --Ann Voskamp, A Holy Experience.

I got treasure up in heaven; I got dirt all over me,
Emilee