Life at 23...

On a day like today, most girls my age would want to be waking up to an array of colorful balloons and flowers and presents overflowing, to a pile of new clothes and shoes and gadgets galore.

But if I am going to be real I am most certainly, without a doubt not like most girls... and if one were to take a peak into my room they would not see gadgets and shoes and piles of clothes, but paintings and pictures of another country, of little ebony faces that are engraved on my heart, of sandals that have walked miles and congas that hold stories. And instead of colorful balloons and presents, I wake up longing for little dirty hands on my face, and dusty feet in my sandals, wishing to smell trash burning in the distance and the loudness of the roosters crowing through my window. Aching to hear the laughter of my Tanzanian sisters, echoed by words in Swahili I don't understand. To not have my feet tangled in a bed sheet, but rather a mosquito net full of holes.

And today is a day just like any other. Of longing for the place I unknowingly left my heart behind in. and a year ago I was flying on a jet plane to this place. a year ago today I turned 22.

But today I'm 23.

And I'm not flying across the ocean.

Today I am 23.

But I still feel 22.

My thoughts are still 22.

My heart still feels 22.

and yet here I sit... now at 23.

I just don't know... I guess I've always thought that something magical should happen when we have a birthday. Like all the questions we've found ourselves asking are finally answered on the day your age number changes. Or like the way the beast is transformed into a man at the end of the magical movie. But my life is not a Disney movie, and there really is no way of knowing if that man is still the beast in his heart. Just like I'm still struggling to find out if I'm really 23 or still 22.

And I think what the problem is, well it's that I just grasped onto the fact that I was 22. I felt like I knew what 22 was and understood it and now I'm 23 and just as confused as I was that day one year ago, when I turned 22.

Truth is we are all the ages we've been. Somedays I'm five, somedays I'm thirteen and somedays I'm 22... or is it 23?!?! And there all complied underneath to make the person I am today, and I'm still trying to grasp a hold of that. Still trying to unravel the mysteries with every year that goes by.

As I sit here and reminisce over this past year of my life. Peering about the long journey I've taken to get to where I am right now, I'm seeing that I've changed. A LOT! That I am not the same person I was last October. And that maybe, just maybe I'm more of 23 than I'll let myself believe.

Okay no, no matter how much I wish I was, I'm not boarding a plane bound for Africa this year. But that doesn't mean God isn't sending me places. He has definitely shown me what growing really means, temporarily surrendering my security in my comfortable places to see His greater picture and His greater glory for my life. It means that somedays... most days are going to be excruciatingly difficult. But I'm finding that as I take one step to the next, Life isn't exactly what I expected.

It's greater and bigger than anything I could ever imagine. It's harder and fuller and challenging, yet beautiful and full of joy and so much love!

Granted I am much heavier than I was a year ago. My heart, my mind, my shoulders weighted down with burdens and desires I never knew I had. And this past year there have been many moments I have struggled with what God expects of me. He has changed my perspective on life and what is important. I'm seeing that the things I used to love and thought I found joy in are nothing compared to the things and the people He has now placed on my heart.

That I tend to spend less time with my books and my television and more time with people, talking and praying and thinking about people. I find that my bed has lost it's comfort, knowing that there is a child 8000 miles away sleeping on a dirt floor. I am seeing that what my face looks like and the way my clothes sit aren't nearly as important as the words I am saying and the actions I am taking against the injustices of the world. And I'm finding that the petty, stupid things I used to make such a big deal out of, are really just petty, insignificant things when I realize that the widow I fell in love with months ago could no longer be living and I have no way of ever knowing.

A year ago today on my plane to Tanzania I wrote in my journal...  And I think there is pain in being a disciple. Pain that becomes joy in the end, but pain that no one seems to ever talk about. The pain of leaving the ones you love behind. Peter must have felt it, and James and John. Paul must have felt it, and Jesus most definitely felt it. But I think that is part of suffering for the gospel. Leaving. Always leaving and moving on, never ever forgetting, but continuing on the path. But to show the love of Christ, to sacrifice my life. To be burdened by the lives of other who do not know HIS glorious love. That is worth the pain.

And 23 year old me would have to agree with 22 year old me. There is pain... so much pain. And the pain I felt that day is similar yet so much different than the the pain I feel now. The burdens are the same, but the people and the actions are so much different.

Today I celebrate another year of life and God has blessed me beyond measure! But my heart is with those who don't get that chance. Who are dying right now. You see my heart has changed. And as I get older I am seeing there is less and less time for the people around me to see Jesus. And I'm wondering why in the heck it took me so many years of hatred and selfishness to see this. Why it took me long fights with roommates and friends that I could have easily solved with selfless love. Why did it take me so long with focusing all on myself and not on the people around me to see that my life is worth far more than me.

That my life was made to be a carrier of the gospel, and living out my faith privately and for myself was never an option.

That 23 is for Christ, just as 22 was and the years to come are. That there are no ifs or maybes when it comes to Jesus and loving His people. There is only Yes and Send ME. That in my heart there should be no room for me. And as my heart gets crowded with Jesus I will invite people into the party. People that the world may hate and despise, but who I will love, because He loves them. That they will come into the room and see that this love, His love is what they were created for.

That my life would be an outpouring sacrifice. That my life would be one full of love and selflessness. My life would become God's... His hands, His feet, His heart, His strength.

That my love for Jesus and my love for others would be what stands out about me and nothing else.

No matter where He takes me or who He places in my path, starting now, at 23 I will follow unashamed, unabashedly forever and ever hard after Him. To love recklessly, to living radically, to spill my life out for the gospel, which is Jesus Christ.

Feeling 23,

 HIS and yours,

   Cami