Advent is all Year long.

Well, December is here and the Church's new year has begun, bringing with it the season of Advent. Being on Reach has filled even these few days we've had of Advent with much reflection of what this period of expectation means. An advent is an arrival of something long waited for. To be in the midst of Advent is to be in the presence of waiting. Advent isn't just a time during December, being in advent is something we experience all year long, all life long. 

Right now I'm in advent over my future. What does God have in store for me? Now is the time when people are making decisions for what they will be doing next year and I am not exempt from this responsibility. 

Will I pursue music? Will I go on more missions? Does God have someone He wants me to court and marry? Will I live at home or move on my own? Will I be able to get a steady job? 

All of these things weigh heavily on me, but I also look forward to them with joyful anticipation. I know that many of my fellow Reachers are going through similar things. They are applying for grad schools, interviewing for youth minister positions, planning and discerning what will come next, living in faith that God will continue to lead them even when they can't see further than one step ahead, trusting that, as it says in one of my newly favorite songs, "You've never failed, you won't start now!" 

Ever year during the season of Advent, we wait to experience again and again the joy of Jesus's first coming that the world experienced two thousand years ago, but we also look forward to and are reminded of His future coming. We hear stories of people who waited and waited for Jesus- Isaiah who prophesied His coming, Mary who waited nine months for her precious child to come, stories that inspire wonder and awe and the desire to be patient. As I wait for my Lord in physical form, I am challenged to wait for His plan for my life, to surrender joyfully and wait. He knows all the little details and every single huge aspect of the plan. All I have to do is wait on Him, listen to Him, and respond to His directions, whether in action or in the moments He simply asks me to sit and be still awhile. Those quiet moments are often the hardest, but most rewarding. I encourage you, dear friend, to surrender every project, plan, relationship, idea, every piece of you to Him every day. It is difficult and is a life time process, but let us start now and not wait for a "better time". Let us start the journey of surrender now and continue to look forward to the coming of our Lord. 

To conclude, I want to share a beautiful advent prayer that one of my teammates found this morning:

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me a wonder at the wisdom and power of Your Father and ours. Receive my prayer as part of my service of the Lord who enlists me in God's own work for justice.

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me a hunger for peace: peace in the world, peace in my home, peace in myself.

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me a joy responsive to the Father's joy. I seek His will so I can serve with gladness, singing and love.

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me the joy and love and peace it is right to bring to the manger of my Lord. Raise in me, too, sober reverence for the God who acted there, hearty gratitude for the life begun there, and spirited resolution to serve the Father and Son.

I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, whose advent I hail. Amen.

On a Piece of Music

On a Piece of Music

By Gerard Manley Hopkins 

How all's to one thing wrought!

The members, how they sit!

O what a tune the thought

Must be fancied it. 

Nor angel insight can

Learn how the heart is hence: 

Since all the make of man

Is law's indifference. 

[Who shaped these walls has shewn

The music of his mind, 

Made known, though thick through stone,

What beauty beat behind.]

Not free in this because 

His powers seemed free to play:

He swept what scope he was

To sweep and must obey. 

Though down his being's bent

Like air he changed his choice,

That was an instrument 

Which overvaulted voice. 

What makes the man and what

The man within that makes:

Ask whom he serves or not

Serves and what side he takes. 

For good grows wild and wide, 

Has shades, is nowhere none;

But right must seek a side

And choose for chieftain one. 

Therefore this masterhood,

This piece of perfect song,

This fault-not-found-with good

Is neither right nor wrong,

No more than red and blue,

No more than Re and Mi,

Or sweet the golden glue

That's built for by the bee. 

[Who built these walls made known

The music of his mind,

Yet here he has but shewn

His ruder-rounded rind. 

His brightest blooms lie there unblown,

His sweetest nectar hides behind.]

Disclaimer!

Dear friends,

First of all, thank you for reading my blog, it means so very much to me! I wanted to just write a little note and explain briefly about my last blog post. A few of my readers were worried about me after reading it and I want to put all y'all's minds at rest. 

The Dark City (a poem of sorts) was not about a "dark night of the soul" experience I was going through or had gone through, nor was it about me. I wrote this because I was inspired by a little quote one of our youth gave me on a retreat saying, "The most dangerous word in the spiritual life is later." 

This poem talks of a place where "later" is the anthem and where people are so lost they believe courage to be a fable! This is a place where Christ is rejected, literally, every day. 

I am so sorry if it sounded like I was going through a dark time! My poem was written merely to show a spiritual world of darkness and then to show redemption when Christ is accepted. 

God bless and keep you! 

Soli Deo Gloria!

Elizabeth

The Dark City (a poem of sorts)

The Dark City-

Hope rises in the darkest times,

When hearts beat faintly and blood trickles fatally,

At the hour when putrefaction rots the mind

And shadows skulk and all the streets evolve into one foreboding alley. 

Seized with fear the people be,

Silenced by their children's screams in the night,

By their blood coursing down the street,

Too paralyzed to contend for their lives. 

Roses no longer have fragrance or shade  or remind of love, but are stems with razor-sharp  thorns. 

Water is bitter and acerbic. 

No sunrise greets them in the morn,

The light in their world has been bludgeoned. 

Maybe a hero will come,

Perhaps a savior will emerge. 

How can one be summoned

When no one has the courage?

For here courage is naught but a fable,

A theory from ages past,

But no one is willing or able

To join underneath a foolish flag raised on a legend mast. 

They dare not complain anymore

For it was we the people who decided our fate

And made our place of hope quite poor,

Thus creating a dismal rule and making prison for our souls not up for debate. 

Every day at the three o'clock hour

A man walks through calling at the quickly closed shutters,

"My love, My love! Let me take you away and deliver you from this power!"

But their minds won't leave the gutter and his gentle voice makes them shudder. 

"Leave us alone," they shout, "we love the dark!"

But he still comes each day, reaching for the hearts they've forgotten they have. 

He sings out like a lark, "Come, my love, come!" But it doesn't reach their hearts. 

He offers healing, but they loathe his restoring salve. 

I live with and am one of them. 

I wallow in darkness and won't consider life. 

I enjoy my selfish sin and won't cave in. 

I'd rather abide in horror and strife. 

Later, later, I always say. 

Tomorrow is when I'll be saved.

Lord, perhaps a more convenient day,

Then I will give my heart away. 

But now is the time,

Today is the day.

My salvation is on the line!

Later is a most dangerous word and will make me dearly pay. 

Lord I accept your call,

I am weary of the dark.

I didn't know I could fall this far

Or that I could burn in hell from one mere spark. 

Thus a singular person chose to bring a candle of light

Into the dark world,

In everyone's sight,

And by this choice and from this place, darkness was hurled. 

~Elizabeth Andersen

This is all of joy

He is as zephyred winds upon the soul,

They said,

And cloudless cloister skies

Yawn over the galeless haven of the heart.

 

Strange, no one said His love would be

A vague unrest in all my deepest peace…

 

They spoke with sighs of flowery cloister ways

And of His smile

Like satin songs of evening.

 

But not a word was ever said of how

His gentle eyes would flog away repose,

And no one mentioned how His voice would thunder

Down my cool-scented caverns of compromise.

 

My hands, according to their counsel sheltered

For quiet prayer, they never told would bleed

With steep ascents’ crag-clinging, and the feet

They set to flower-bordered ways

They never said would know

Of black rocks’ tearing, tortuous paths

Among forbidden trees.

 

No, no one even hinted at the swords of His demand

That part the flesh from bone and leave the heart

Riven with a wild and white desire.

And no one knows except he once has heard

That loud, imperious call in his own heart

And left all padded satisfaction for the climb

That knows no peak. But this is all of joy.

 

-Mother Mary Francis, P.C.C.

 

I love this poem. It speaks of a faith that is past the skin deep religion of flowers and compromise, a peace that is of our own making. It is the pondering of the idea of a God whose voice is as thunder which breaths down our caverns of compromise, disturbing the façade of a faith that is like pampered skin and gourmet feasts, boasting of many things, but not sacrifice. It shoots down the idea that once you accept Christ, it is an easy path without stones or chasms or snakes or ice or fire, and presents the idea of a real Christian, suffering on a path of trial, a path of pain and climbing a never ending mountain that “knows no peak”. A path of spiritual flogging, bleeding hands, separating flesh and bone, and invoking in the heart an unquenchable desire to leave all comfort in pursuit of a higher, louder calling that is imbedded in us. This calling is suppressed, though, by believing the voices that surround us, telling of a faith that, here on earth, is comfy and cozy and full of ease, and not at all painful or challenging or tasking.

I had always felt that there was something wrong with me when I compared what my experience of Christianity was to what many of my friends told me. Back in Jesus’ time some believed that if you sinned you became ill, and in a similar way some of my friends would tell me that I wasn’t supposed to be having a rough time, that I was overthinking things, that I was too serious, that God wanted me to be joyful, that there was something wrong if I was constantly having to be healed by God from things. For a long time I struggled with the idea that if my heart was hurting, I couldn’t bring it to God, because He didn’t want to deal with a small so-called Christian who couldn’t get the system down. I was extremely wrong.

I have learned that God appreciates honesty, especially recognizing that we cannot fix our flaws on our own, that Christ waits for us to show Him our scarred faces, our bleeding hearts, so that HE can heal them. Yes, God wants us to be joyful, but a huge part of Christianity is being refined. I feel that we must suffer in this life so as to be purified for the next. Joyful suffering may sound like an oxymoron, but this is what we are called to endure. So many people separate these two words, but recognizing that we are being formed into who we were created to be, by fighting sin and temptations by, for example, stretching ourselves to treat others with kindness and respect, choosing to remain silent so as to listen better to others, waking up a little earlier so as to give undivided attention to Him in prayer, etc. are all extremely important. These are examples of small moments of suffering that draw us ever closer to Him by purging us of our selfish and sensual desires. I love that the poem goes to great lengths to describe the agony and surprise of following Christ, but ends it with “but this is all of joy”, for we truly find our joy as we scale the insurmountable peaks of daily improvement and purification. So let us be encouraged and spurred on to invite God to cleanse us from sin and to find the joy that is offered to us in the little sufferings of everyday life.

Awakened

So this weekend my team and I helped with a retreat called an Awakening. I won't go into all the little details of what goes into one, but I just wanted to share what my experience was. I usually go into retreats hoping and praying that I will be used by God to minister to the kids and while I was hoping for this, I was really struggling with depression this weekend. For as long as I can remember I have battled with depression and usually I am able to combat it well, but it hit me really hard the day we left for the retreat.

On Friday night we did an activity in which we had to pick one of the many different paintings in front of us that best described our faith life. I wanted to pick the one with the man holding a little girl's hand and using an umbrella to shield her from outside things, but the painting that I most related to was one of a miserable clown clothed in black and white surrounded by a harsh spotlight. It was weird for me to admit that, to be honest with myself and God that I didn't feel as though my relationship with God was in a bright and happy place.

That night we also had a forgiveness talk by named David Casey. I am interning under David and his wife, Diedra, at their youth group at Our Lady of the Valley parish. David started out his talk by giving us pennies, symbolizing a person or an event or sin, whatever we thought needed to be forgiven, gave his talk and then played music, giving us time to place our pennies in a vase filled with water, symbolizing God’s sea of forgetfulness. There were some memories from my childhood that I have struggled and struggled with for many years and that night I decided to give up my pride and humble myself before God, choosing to forgive as He has forgiven me, giving Him those memories. 

On Saturday we had multiple talks and activities, fun and serious. Melissa, one of my teammates, gave an amazing talk on a certain aspect of our relationships with God. She talked about how, when she was younger, she had a hard time looking people in the eyes and struggled with self-esteem. At one point she asked us to write down what we feared that God thought about us. After that we were supposed to write what we hope He thought about us. I realized that the seemingly harmless fears that constantly clouded my mind when I was with my teammates had transferred to fears I had about what God thought of me.

I thought that God (and my team) saw me as worthless and not worth His time, that I was His big mistake. I hoped that God wasn’t ashamed of me, that He liked me how I was, and that He had a plan for me, but those two lists were extremely different, and at that point I knew that I believed in the wrong one.

Later I got a letter from one of my teammates who didn’t come on the retreat, but this was no ordinary letter. Kristen is absolutely hilarious person who wrote a story for each of us Reachers who were helping out. She started mine out in a way that struck a chord so deep in me that I started crying reading it.

“One day in a castle in a land far, far away in the Tri-Cities of WA, lived a chaste and modest princess named Elizabeth…”

 

I’m the kind of person who loves stories, especially ones that involve princesses. Yes, I had read all those Christian princess stories as a little girl, but the idea of being a princess hadn’t really hit me hard until that night. I felt more like the village prostitute, not the beloved daughter of the King. Kristen wrote this very humorous, but sweet story about me and, through someone else’s eyes, I was able to glimpse what another person saw when she looked at me. She didn’t see a failure. She saw a princess. I haven’t known Kristen for very long, though our team is very close, but she remembered little details she has gleaned about me since we met and put them in the story. In one part of the story, she wrote that my prince charming bought me socks to woo me. To other people, that just sounds random and silly, but actually Kristen remembered the story I told her of the time my mom bought me socks as a random gift one day and it made me feel so loved that I still talk about how much I cherish them. She also remembered that I consider children to be incredible blessings, so I would love, God willing, to have many. So she wrote in the Epilogue that my husband and I had 25 children. Little things like that, she remembered. The fact that she took note of these things surprised me because it showed that she truly cared about getting to know me.

I was overwhelmed by the realization that Kristen had a good opinion of me and that God had a better opinion of me than those people around me, that His love is constant and always there. I went down to my room, actually a classroom, after we had made sure all the kids had gone to bed and stared bleakly at the blank chalkboard in front of me.

Picking up a piece of chalk, I wrote “I am cherished.”

BAM. One kick in satan’s pants.

“I have worth.”

BAM. Second kick.

“I am funny.”

BAM.

“I am not too much.”

“I am not unlovable.”

“I am worth getting to know.”

“I am not stupid.”

“I have good things to say.”

“I am worth cherishing.”

“I am not afraid of men.”

“I am CONFIDENT.”

“I am not afraid.”

“I am Christ’s hands and feet, but mostly His Heart.”

“I am acceptable.”

“I am not afraid of Beauty,”

“I am Creative.”

“I am kind.”

“I am not mean.”

“I am gentle.”

“I am filled with joy.”

“I am Simple.”

“I am a part of His plan.”

 

I sat back, looking at my work, at the truths I had written. These truths had, for many years, been considered as lies, but I was just recognizing them for what they really were and I was realizing who I really was. I was and am good, and was created to be good.

Just yesterday and today I was studying the Gospel reading for next week, which is Luke 18:9-14, the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector. I got many things from it, but one thing I realized is that the Pharisee, who was self-righteous, judged himself by comparing himself to others, while the Tax Collector judged himself by God’s standards and repented. For too long I have tried to see through others’ eyes and see if they liked me to judge whether I was likable or not. I based my self-worth on what I thought other people were thinking, which is a really bad idea! While there are always improvements that can be made in me, this does not make God love me less. I don’t have to be perfect to be loved and His love is not based on my performance. Even though I still have a hard time accepting this, now I know that God isn’t calling me to sacrifice or make myself better out of a desire to be loved by Him, because I will always have His love, but rather I should do these things to love Him back, to reciprocate my love for Him. Such a boundless joy will spring from this sort of love! Thank you Lord for letting me lean on you while you heal this fear in me. I praise your holy and wondrous name!

Random Musings?

⁵ And the apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith.” ⁶ The Lord replied, “If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you would say to [this] mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you. ⁷ Who among you would say to your servant who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here immediately and take your place at table’? ⁸ Would he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare something for me to eat. Put on your apron and wait on me while I eat and drink. You may eat and drink when I am finished’? ⁹ Is he grateful to that servant because he did what was commanded? ¹⁰ So should it be with you. When you have done all you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’”

 

5. Here the apostles are responding to Jesus after He tells them hard teachings on forgiveness and sin and serving the poor.

So the apostles (note, the word apostles, not disciples as in the previous passage) respond saying, “Lord, increase our faith.”  They recognize the struggle in their hearts, to refuse forgiveness and to not desire earthly riches. It’s a cry of desperation, similar to the cry the centurion makes: “Lord I believe, help my unbelief!”

6. Here the Lord replies in a somewhat confusing manner. Many people find this verse as encouraging. If we have faith as small as the size of a seed, we can do great things. But I see this verse as saying, even if you have the smallest faith, this faith still counts because it isn’t about the size of your faith, it is about having faith in a great God. God is so big, as long as we have a little faith, He can work with it. God can use even those who struggle with having “great faith”, as long as they have faith in Him.

I also really appreciate the use of the mustard seed and mulberry tree in this verse. One could translate this verse as, “Look at the mustard seed! Do you see its faith? Be like the mustard seed!” The idea of commanding a tree, even speaking to a tree and to expecting it to obey puts the tree on a level higher than it really is, almost as though the tree could respond. Well, maybe trees can respond. Maybe they do have spirits. This verse says that the tree would obey you. It would obey you. Just food for thought, this idea of trees and mustard seeds having spirits.

7. I love how Jesus switches gears so quickly. He never misses a beat but goes right on driving His point home. A few thoughts about this verse. The servant has come in from plowing the field or tending the sheep. As Christians, one way we serve God is by sharing the Gospel with His children. Plowing a field is difficult, and I’m not talking about the modern way we do it. Plowing a field was strenuous work, tasking and sweaty. Plowing spiritual fields, getting them ready for seed, is also difficult. This passage really reminded me of the parable of the seeds, with rocky soil, weeds, etc. Plowing the difficult field to ready it for soil is extremely difficult. As a missionary, I am charged with the responsibility of plowing my own field and the fields of others. Tending Christ’s flock is difficult in a similar way. This is making sure that His believers are being taken care of, being fed and watered and watched after, not letting wolves come and cull the flock. Sheep are by far some of the stupidest animals. When I raised sheep for 4-H (yes I was one of them), I would constantly think, “Don’t they know that I am the one who gives them all they need? And they won’t even come close to me! They just take and take, and I keep giving. I am their protection, and they don’t even care that I give them all they need. When will they realize that they can’t survive without me?” It is hard and frustrating work to care for sheep!

One would think, after working hard plowing or taking care of those stupid sheep, I would get some rest. After all, I did what I was supposed to do, right? I mean, Lord, I plowed the soil of their hearts and I took care of your people! Can I just be rewarded please? 

8. But the Gospel says that instead, we are asked to wait on the table of God Himself. No rest for the weary, but more work. “Put on your apron.” Get dirty and serve, even after working hard all day for the Master.

9, 10. The big catch is that a master isn’t grateful to his servant when the servant does what he is required to do. It is a given, not an extra.  That is a really hard thing to hear, especially in a society where rewards are nearly always expected, but we are obliged to serve. I was discussing this with a youth group and when I asked what they thought about not expecting a reward from God, a teenager explained it in a beautiful way. “I guess I’m ok with it because Jesus gave us the reward before we did anything. So us serving Him is an act of love.”

I think that is the pivotal point of this passage. Sometimes we do things for God and expect blessings for it, but really we should be responding to His sacrifice that He already made.

The apostles start by asking for an increase in faith, and Jesus responds by saying, have faith in a God bigger than you and give to God all that you have without expecting anything back. That is unconditional service and love, which God requires of us.

Just food for thought.

Reach Update- Women's Retreat

Well, I'm deep into training for Reach Youth Ministry. Community life is difficult and today I just needed some alone time. I guess I knew Reach was going to be hard, but I didn't expect the atmosphere to be so...well, unchristian like. I thought that after the women's retreat yesterday and today, maybe us ladies would be strongly bonded, but I am disappointed that some of the people here just talk a lot and don't do much.
Regardless of a few people who make community life really, really hard, there are some very nice girls here and the women's retreat was very nice! Reach paid for us to go to Boulder Hot Springs for the day to relax and get closer to each other and to God. They also bought us a book for women called Praying Our Lives, a compilation of prayers, scripture, and an invitation to make prayer an every-moment endeavor. Ashley, our associate director, along with Deidre Casey, a wonderful leader in youth ministry in Helena, were the coordinators for this wonderful time together. After making dinner together, we spent some time worshiping the Lord with music. Deidre and her husband are sought after musicians in these parts, so it was really cool that I and Susie, one of the other team members, got to lead with her. I even got to lead a few songs! There were many other things we did together, but I think worship was the best for me. The presence of God was so very tangible in that crammed little living room!
Reach is hard. Every day I am attacked for trying to live a life of holiness, encouragement, and purity. It is so sad to me that we are supposed to be getting ready to minister to youth, to show them the light of life with Christ, and their lives are so contrary to what we are supposed to be doing.
I'm not saying I'm perfect, because I mess up every single day and don't have strength except for what the Lord gives to sustain me. It is frustrating for me to be harassed and then ignored because I choose not to engage in certain behaviors with them...
Lately I have felt so very thankful for the opportunity to grow in patience and love for others but this very evening I am feeling a bit discouraged...maybe I'll give a happier update next time...

In the mean time, here are pictures from the Hot Springs!

Woman

“We desire to possess a beauty that is worth pursuing, worth fighting for, a beauty that is core to who we truly are. We want beauty that can be seen; beauty that can be felt; beauty that affects others; a beauty all our own to unveil.” (Stasi Eldredge, Captivating)

When I was little, I love to play dress up. I remember one summer day I had the ridiculous idea of tying a bolt of dark pink bolt fabric around my neck and charging my "mighty steed" around the yard just so that I could feel like a princess, possessing strength and power, but beauty and mercy. I used to wear my hair in updos whenever I could so that I could feel elegant. 
As soon as I became old enough to be aware of this desire to be beautiful, the World had already shoved Disney Princesses (among other things) into my head, warping my sense of femininity by playing with and manipulating the hope that maybe, just maybe, my prince would come and see how lovely I was and decide he wanted to marry me. As I got older, the World then laughed at these desires and pushed short miniskirts and tight tops in my line of sight causing me to be ashamed of the sweet joy I found dressing up in long flowy skirts and clothing that spoke of gentle femininity. The romantic inside me lost the confidence to display my desires in an outward form. My longing for the beauty of the chivalry and elegance of times past was limited to staying inside me. Every once in a while I would let that part of me slip, like in the music I chose to listen to or the dresses I would pick out at stores. But all the while the little princess inside me shivered in the cold.
When I look back at these desires I had when I was a child, I realize that they are childish, but in a positive way. They weren't immature, but rather full of purity. The Bible says that unless we become like children, we will not enter the kingdom of heaven (Matthew 18:3)
The ache in my heart for a pure beauty, instilled by God, is still a valid longing in my life. Whenever I see a sunset and lift my face to its beautiful but fading light, I am reminded by its portrayal of God's light, which is unfading. When I walk in the rain, feeling its cleansing drops and smelling the earth after a rainfall, I breathe in God's holy scent and am grateful for the gift of having my sins washed away by the blood of the Lamb. I think many women forget that beauty isn't something that can be put on one's face or worn. Beauty is not something to be attained. Beauty is something that surpasses our human understanding. We were made in the image of God and we as women are evidence of God's beautiful and merciful nature. The desire for the beautiful things, the desire to be beautiful, these are good things.
Sometimes children are forced to lose parts of their innocence. It is a hard fact of life. The fear of being beautiful in a sinful world can often overcome and suffocate us, but I know that there is a reason why when I was little, veils made me feel close to God and why long, elegant dresses make me feel beautiful. The heavenly and stunning beauty of a pure and modest woman is holy and godly.  As I draw closer to the Lord, I am beginning to come back to a holier understanding of what being a woman of God really means.
The World has told us that the sexier you are, the more seductive you are, the less you wear, the more desirable you will be. They forget to tell us that the more that we do that is against God's design for our bodies and hearts, the worse we will feel. Our mouths were created to sing joyfully to the Lord, encourage unbelievers and believers alike, kiss in purity, burst forth in laughter, and to ultimately to bless. Our hands were designed to comfort, heal, and hold. Our hearts were made to love unconditionally, grieve for those who knew no love, and to draw us ever closer to God. We were created beautifully to draw others closer to the heart of Jesus and to bless others, not to make them fall. Let us embrace the mission we have been given to be beautiful and holy so as to give the World a glimpse of our dear Lord and Savior. Soli Deo Gloria!

My Reach Team:

Well, I'm here in Montana for training with Reach Youth Ministries! How very very exciting! The sessions have been bomb, Mass has been lovely, and our personal prayer time has been extremely touching. I love having the expectation of going to both Mass and having hours of prayer time each day. Before I came I had a moment of panic, wondering if I'd be spiritually up to the task of praying so much. What a silly concern! Prayer is the thing that equips us! It hasn't been easy, but it has filled me with peace and trust. Intimacy with my Lord is the most precious gift I could ever imagine...
But I wanted to share some pictures of the Reach kids. We figured out what teams we were on this last Monday and where we will be stationed for the last few months. What an awesome group of young adults! It is odd, though, being the youngest member of Reach. I don't have time to write much more, so without further ado, here are the pictures of the Reach team who will be serving in Helena, Montana!!! Solio Deo Gloria!

L to R: McKensie, Melissa, Kristen, Pat, James, Elizabeth