Proof in the Pouf (Loofah that is…)

Too often I do not live like the daughter of the King of Kings that I am and a sneaking suspicion tells me that I’m not alone.

Slipping back into the eastern time zone a few weeks ago my mind immediately kicked into high gear. This is what it said:

“Oh my gosh I need a job. I haven’t had to job search in 5 years. This is not the economy for finding a job. But I must have one. I have bills. I have a visa to get. I have to buy winter clothes. I need food… and gas… and… and… and…”

Now I have my freak out moments on the field but they do not compare to the ones I have when I come home. Maybe it is because I am closing quickly on the third decade of my life and do not enjoy being dependent on any one. Maybe it is the whole status issue (just ask me how I felt pulling out a TracFone in Newark instead of an iPhone, especially if I try to tell you I don’t care about having cool things).

How quickly I forget:

God’s provision to not only get me home but to provide a way of return to Ukraine

God’s provision around the world last year when our budget just wouldn’t stretch any further

God’s provision of housing, community, food, and every other need every single day

Earlier this week I bought a loofah for a friend. It was part of a joke from an internship three years ago and I knew handing her that puffy colored mesh on a string would immediately bring a smile and laugh. Expectations met she then informed me that just that day while in the shower she noticed her loofah falling apart and reminded herself to make note on her shopping list.

What does a loofah have to do with anything? Well I believe less and less in coincidences these days. Together my friend and I celebrated that God cares about our EVERY need… even down to loofahs!

So why do we live like orphans instead of sons and daughters, grabbing and hording, trembling and fearing when God is The Good Father who knows how to take care of His kids?

It doesn’t mean that we sit around and do nothing, but that we walk in obedience to what He has said and trust that He is in control.

That’s the reminder to myself as I fill out all these applications and wait: I am a daughter not an orphan. God knows and God cares, but maybe He is more concerned I learn my identity than feel safe because of what is in my bank account.

The Return of Wonder Woman… Not Quite

A glimpse at my brain processes is like staring at one of those never-ending news tickers scrolling across the bottom of your TV screen providing you with lots of useful and annoying information constantly. It lists off things I need to accomplish, tasks that need to be started, problems that need to be solved and a whole host of gibberish that sometimes even I can’t follow.

Where does that leave you and me?

I have returned to Georgia and am living near Buford. I am hoping to land a retail job for the next few months and, upon returning to the States, I went into hiding for a bit while trying to fill out applications, which have a way of making you feel about as intelligent as an earthworm. So far I have received one friendly rejection, one maybe, and a lot of silence.

I am also working on a new blog site (that would be this one…), since obviously I am not on the World Race anymore, and I am trying  to compile supporter e-mails so I actually have them in one database and am learning how to use a program that will help me send out my updates in a nice, creative, yet professional way that will link to the blog site. To top it off I am working to make sure I have information needed to offer everyone the details of my move to Ukraine, what that looks like, and all the normal support questions, concerns, etc.

Other than that, I am delving into learning to cook (had to happen sometime I guess) and working on being a well put together young woman complete with nail polish, styled hair and make-up (but I have yet to master the art of ironing clothes). Moving to Ukraine already seems to be having a positive impact!

Photo shot and edited by Anna Coffey

at night’s end

it’s so easy to come home

and pretend nothing has changed

to smile and laugh

to play my silly games

cause you can’t see I’m breaking

ripping at the seams

screaming to share the truth

uncertain what it all means

I know you won’t understand

these things I need to say

you’ll think me foolish or crazy

or worse just walk away

so smile I will continue

silently will plead

laugh and play until night’s end

when finally I’ll be free

Beauty Outside Comfort

“If we’re growing, we’re always going to be out of our comfort zone.” ~John Maxwell

Waves of Narcolepsy: Vignette 1

He awoke today from a narcolepsy slide and followed his feet to the sandy shoreline, the same waves and salty sea he has gazed into since he was five, a lifetime of memories ago.

He sits at a wooden picnic table overlooking the ocean, his gray hair pulled into a loose ponytail. He bounces between subjects like an ADD child, chatty and friendly, all tied to a song and photo.

In the midst of conversation he remembers something and retreats for a moment into a distant time. Northern Lights by Lux. Look it up when you get home,” he says, “Lux. L-U-X. Amazing music. It was playing this morning. So appropriate.” Just like that he retreats again. Softly he tells how Northern Lights reminds him of his mother no longer with him.

He is a photographer, retired, and sitting on this wobbly, weathered bench has been his hobby as of late. Today is a beautiful day, a perfect day at the beach that he loves. Ukraine is a beautiful country too, but his favorite place in the world is Denver, Colorado in the fall.

“Breathtaking clouds that seem to go on forever and the most amazing colors you will ever see,” he recalls with a twinkle in his eyes. “Oh if you ever get to go to Denver in the fall you really must!”

The conversation ping-pongs through a few more rounds, states and countries. His friendly demeanor takes on a seriousness. “Live every moment,” he says, “There are a lot of moments in life you will never get back.”

With that the amicable, yet tortured artist, bids adieu, taking his camera and song, following his feet back to the sandy shore that continues to whisper his name and captivate his gaze.


“My life is like a stroll on the beach…as near to the edge as I can go.”

–Thoreau

Bird Attack

Bird Attack at Starbucks

Fluttering Type

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