Made of Stone

I've been thinking about posting for a while now and I finally decided that I need to just do it, maybe some one needs to read this. My post before this is about my trip to Greece, if you are interested. And the post before THAT is well, polarizing. 
Lately I have been seeing the beauty of imperfection. It makes the beauty of grace that much more brilliant. I will be the first to say that I am not perfect. I am judgmental. Envious. Quick to speak and even quicker to anger. I am selfish. And when no one else laughs at my jokes, I'll laugh regardless because lets face it, I'm basically the funniest person in the world. Is self-centered different from selfish? 
Imperfections mean that there is room for improvement. This is something I am thankful for. For me, being raised in a conservative Christian community (please don't allow this to have negative connotations for you, if you are reading this you are probably my friend which probably means you think I turned out OK, so just accept the fact that "conservative Christian" isn't a terrible thing, it's how I was brought up, and I do not regret that - even though I now consider myself far less conservative now than how I was raised. Just because I do not necessarily strictly identify "conservative Christian" now, as a 25 year old, doesn't mean I'm going to deny my upbringing, I am very grateful my parents raised me the way they did), it's so easy for me to rattle off the Christian, biblical phrases. There is grace enough for me. Jesus died for that sin. His mercies are new every morning. I know them all and I could quote it all while I'm half asleep (actually probably not, some of you have seen me half asleep and know it's not a good situation). But you get the point. All this head knowledge but now I'm living life, doing the damn thing, and I have to take this all to heart. Or else, what do I do, and what is it all for? 

I have not been taking it all to heart. Living in present is simple compared to my past. The past is hard. I know that I should not live in the past but so often that is exactly what I find myself doing. Nostalgia, at this point in my life, is toxic. Yet, I'm all about that nostalgic life. I'm holding on. And no, I'm not talking about my 90's-esque fashion style. I'm talking about the life I left when I moved across the country. I'm talking about the memories, the mistakes, and the heartache. 

The grace that covers me is only applicable to 2015-present-time Mariah. Before that, Mariah was in her bubble. Mariah was dealing with her problems by pretending they didn't exist, by WISHING they didn't exist. Mariah was living IN a reality that SHE WAS ACTIVELY denying, and it almost destroyed her. Oh my gosh how does she break out of third person??

Now the words shame and guilt come to mind. These were words that until recent weeks I associated only with the "unsaved". Shame and guilt were associated only with those who have not accepted the life that comes with surrendering to Jesus. It's not until recent weeks that I realized this was me. 

Jesus could have some of my life. My brothers and sisters in this amazing community I have found myself in can know what I'm struggling with. But I have my limits. They do not see the shame and guilt I tried to leave behind, but instead is now just a silent struggle. I do not open up, and there's certain shame that I do not let go. I want to hold on. Why must I hold on? All I get from it now is embarrassment that I let myself fall into a place of such despair. All I get is regret at how I handled my relationships with those around me. All I get are visible cringes when I think about some of the things I've done. So if you ever see me wincing, ask if I need help, because I may have just hurt myself, y'all know how clumsy I am, but there's also a good chance I am just thinking about something very regrettable I did that I have not forgiven myself for.  

It's slowly been being revealed to me. The reason I hold on is because it's all I know. The place my heart goes to when I recall a certain memory. The place my mind wanders when listening to a certain song. Even when I smell that certain smell, I go somewhere. And it hurts. But it's familiar. It's what I know. How sick is that? "no no Mariah it's not sick don't say that" Well yes it is. It's not healthy for me and it's against everything I claim to be about. 

Where is this freedom in grace? What am I saying about the cross? When do I forgive myself? Me holding on to the past, to my shame and regrets, is spitting on the Cross and the power I claim to hold to. It's laughing in the face of my Savior who tells me I am forgiven. I am a hypocrite because I say one thing and do the other! Me not forgiving myself for something that Christ already dealt with on the cross is the greatest shame of them all. I am a broken sinner. Release of this shame may take time, it may not. But knowing me, it will probably take a while, because I do literally everything slow. And the kind of shame I carry has become, unfortunately, something more of a mindset. Its a mindset I've had for a while. It's been two years. 

This is me letting you all know that the struggle is still too real. Some of you know. Some of you walked me through that time and are walking me through it still. You guys have every right to judge the time it has taken. Even with that I carry some shame. I know that (especially with me) these things take time, and my God does not operate according to time. He's outside of time, this is me trusting Him with my life and my time, and my healing.
So let me get down to it.

There's one place in the world that will always be home to me and right now I can't go there. My goal is to go there, even if it's just for a visit. My goal is to be OK. My goal is to go there and be OK. I have to stay open to whatever God may have for me, and while I do not see Him calling me back there permanently any time EVER, I need to be able to say "OK God, let's do it!" if it truly is his plan for me. Also, I have learned to never say never cuz God has a rather brutal sense of irony. When my time to travel home comes, I'll be able, by grace, to say with assurance that that was then, this is now, and both the past and the present have worked together to make me who I am and who I am becoming. Shame has no place in my life. In Him my broken life is made beautiful. 

Greece

Last blog post I wrote pretty much the weekend after I got back from my experience in Greece, and I ruffled some feathers. Since it's been a few weeks since then, I decided to write about my missions trip I took this summer. I think the feathers are settled now. I shared in a missions meeting last week about my trip and I felt like I was a blabbering mess so maybe in written form it will all sound a little better. This is my team. They also happen to be four of my best friends. Amber, Tyler, Tim & Holly. I wouldn't have wanted to have this experience with any one else. God knew we all needed each other and there was a reason each of us needed to go.

At the camp there were just rows of hundreds of canvas tents as well as some plastic type "buildings" that were probably about 12 by 6, if that. The camp that we were at had about 2,000 people. About 80% of them were Syrian. The rest of the population was rather scattered from different places, but there was a good representation from Iraq and Iran. Afghanistan and Jordan also had representation.
There were hundreds of kids just wandering around the "streets" of the camp. Very little structure, if any, is provided for these children during the day. Most of the children running around have lice. Needless to say I washed my hair quite well after this particular day. Those of you who know me know how I feel about kids (not my favorite). This picture was really only half posed as I was so happy to be occupying the time of these adorable children if only a few hours. Having the chance to give them something to do other than playing with dirt, throwing rocks, or brawling with the bigger kids was a huge blessing both to me and them.

Part of the camp was a section for "unaccompanied minors." These guys are here without parents. They've stopped their education to go seek a safe place to live, because their home is being destroyed by both ISIS and their own government. Most of them were fine sharing with us the places they came from and what they left behind, but many of these people just need to have a regular conversation with people who are willing to listen. Language was not as much of an issue with these guys because they all spoke English very well, some of them better than me! That gentlemen next to me in the blue introduced himself as Michael Jackson, and that's who we knew him as. If you know me you know me and him got along great as we are both dancers! He has spent some time in Algeria so he was very excited to hear that I have some connections to Morocco. 

We were at the camp for five days, on the 1p-9p shift. Upon arrival, our team would go straight to the huge food tent at the start of food distribution to help pass out the waters. Each individual in the camp would be provided with just one litre of water a day, no matter the circumstance. This baby's name is Maria. At camp, I was known as Maria. In Arabic it was much easier to just drop that 'H' at the end of my name. What a cool connection. Maria's father asked for an extra water because Maria is about to have a little sibling. The pregnant, extra old, and extra young, each get one litre a day. As I was thinking about this, I'm not a big drinker, but in that heat even I found myself rather desperate for water. These people have no fans or air conditioning. We were there at the beginning of June, so it was still "cool" It was about 85-89 degrees every afternoon. It was humid heat as well. Those of you living in California do not really understand humid heat, so it's difficult to describe in a way you will understand how hot 89 degrees with high humidity really feels. All this to say that 1 litre is not sufficient. 

After the food and water distribution was finished (in total it took about 2 hours) we got the opportunity to build relationships. By helping each person to carry the waters/food to their tent, it gave us the opportunity to see who was receptive to having conversation. I can't think of a time that I was not invited in to a tent for tea. Hospitality is just their nature. The volunteer group that we were with had already established relationships with some families. One of my favorite experiences was going with some of our translators to give them a gift of the Bible. This particular family spoke English very well and they were trying to improve so we were able to gift them with a Bible that was in English and Arabic. I got chills listening to the mother reading the Word in Arabic, our people translating in English. The few that have professed Christ do not have an easy road ahead of them. All "discipleship" had to take place in the privacy of a tent. Conversations about the Messiah could not happen out in the open. 

The camp is run by the Greek army with funding from UNHCR. They are provided 3 meals a day and 1 litre of water. There is a first aide and clothing 'donation' building, as well as a first aide supply tent where supplies are passed out once a week. This tent was so necessary with toddlers, and rocky ground, with bullet wounds and lingering infections prevalent. There is a playground and a soccer "field" at the camp. Except that this soccer field has no grass. If any of you understand basically any other culture besides American, you know how important "futbol" is to them. They will play with any spherical object they could find or make. The last day, we brought some of our new friends a real soccer ball and in a few hours it looked about as used as if they had been playing with it all week. 

A personal frustration for me was the time limitation that we had. The amount of depth we were able to reach with some of the people we met in just five days was unreal. Five days hardly seemed like enough. But going was better was not going. Even if all we were able to do was say the name of Jesus, maybe that's all they needed. Maybe in a few months time they will have another encounter with a Jesus follower that speaks his name and they will be reminded of us, and how we came to just spend time with them, just to listen, and in this way, show the love of Jesus. We heard so many stories. We heard where these people came from, the lives they left behind. We listened to their hopes, dreams, loves and losses. 

Please note how I have not referred to the individuals we met as refugees. Yes, they are, but we were there to humanize them. In my particular community in Florida, people tend to be rather ignorant of Arabic culture and Arabic people. At my grocery store that I work at,  I can think of about 3 covered women that shop there. There is a sentiment of fear around the Arab/Muslim culture. There was an expressed concern for my safety and down right fear when I would tell people what I was going to do and the people I was going to come into contact with. Stereotypes ran stronger than I had feared, thus my reference to these "refugees" as "people." Because that is what they are. They are people. Most of them are hurting more deeply than any one in America could ever imagine. These Arabic Muslim people have reason more than any one on earth to hate ISIS. They've been shot, bombed, their families ripped apart by ISIS. We saw and talked to people without a foot, or just half of both feet, because they had been blown off. 

Each member of our team went over there with a certain set of skills. Tyler is a handy man. Amber has the heart for the children. Holly is literally just all around amazing, so friendly to every one, and Tim has had a heart for Muslim people for as long as I've known him. Tim and Holly are the leaders of our young adults sunday school, so their hearts have always, I think, been for the young adults of their  community. And as all of you probably know, I have a heart for the elderly. Each one of us was able to use the gifts God has given us, at least once on the trip. 

This was an older lady that I had had my eye on all week. I would pass by her tent, some times she would be there and some times she wouldn't. The second to last day I was able to go with one of our translators over to talk with her. The only thing we were able to find out was that she was about 74 years old. Kurdish. And she had some upper respiratory issues. I had no idea how to help this woman but I had to be with her, if only for a minute. I was able to just massage her hands and feet, and wipe them with a wet wipe. That's all I got to do, that's all I could do. As I was getting ready to leave she grabs my face and kissed it all over. It was the highlight of my life. My heart was so full in that moment I felt like I was flying. I'm still praising God for this moment. 

I would like to thank everyone for keeping me in their prayers and especially thanks to those who supported me financially. This is a shot from Acrocorinth. We were able to do some touring around Corinth and Athens. It's still rather unbelievable that I walked the same streets that Paul and some of the other biblical greats walked. And walked we did, we walked about 20,000 steps a day. As I ate mostly Greek salads when we were there, I lost about 7 pounds!. Woops! I'm working on gaining that back. All in all, Greece was an amazing experience and we are already looking to next year. Next year Lord willing we will be going to Germany, where many of these families are hoping to start their new lives. These people are just like those we would meet walking down the street here in America. At the heart of every one is the need for the light and love of Jesus Christ. 

Prayers for the future: The situation in the camp seems desperate and hopeless. Each person has to be interviewed by the office that's in Athens. In order to make an appointment for this interview (which is usually six hours long) you have to be able to contact the office. To facilitate this contact, the camp has a Skype tent open for about an hour a day. The number they are calling for Skype is the same number for all 50,000 refugees in the country of Greece. Yes that's right, one man, in one office, at the other end of one Skype number, with 50,000 people trying desperately to reach him so they can set up an interview to maybe be accepted so they can maybe leave the camp so they can maybe find a better life in a place that can never truly be home for them, because their real home is destroyed, and they are fleeing for their lives. 

Pray fervently for a more practical solution. We want and need these camps to be temporary. 

Pray for the seeds that were planted to grow, even if the seed was tiny and our experiences brief. 

Thank you again for your love and prayers. 

Peace. 

Orlando Shootings

I prayed today that the Lord would take this off my heart and mind if I wasn't supposed to say something and it's pressing on my heart more than ever so here we go.
Orlando is home to me. Let me elaborate. I do not live in the city of Orlando, I am safe. Whenever I tell people out of state where it is that I live in Florida I will often say Orlando. Orlando is where it's at. The good food, the good schools, all the attractions (besides the beach of course) - they're all a 45 minute drive away in Orlando. Orlando is where we get our news. Orlando is where we get Disney, and we all know how important Disney is to you if you are a good Floridian...human being actually. So essentially Orlando is home. Florida is home. America is home.
As many of you know, I just returned home from a trip to Greece. On this trip I had the opportunity to meet and interact with a displaced people group that was fleeing for their lives because ISIS was attacking and destroying their country. In no way am I trying to EQUATE the Orlando shootings with the systematic destruction of an entire country and it's citizens, the two could never be equated. I am COMPARING them, however, and you must see the parallels.
These people were not home but they felt safe. I came home, and now I do not feel safe. I feel frustrated and sad, just as I did at the refugee camp, alongside the people who's lives were destroyed by ISIS.
I have questions.
Why was the news of this shooting not mentioned in my church service this morning? I realize that the reports of the death toll did not come through until after the time my service began, but this is hardly an excuse. I, at 8 AM, was vaguely aware of a gunman/shooter situation that had gone on the night before in Orlando (I glanced at my phone - that's literally how unavoidable this news was), but I find it hard to believe that no one in leadership knew of the immensity of what had just happened. Why the silence? We pray for local churches every Sunday, including the Orlando area. We are the Orlando area. I don't understand why, as a room packed full of Christ followers, we did not fervently lift the city we call home up in prayer? We did not pray for the victims, why? Does it have anything to do with the rainbow flag that has been waving alongside the American flag in the aftershock of this horrific tragedy?
If the presence of that flag gives you any pause in your reaction to the massacre, you need to check yourself, hard - it's absolutely disgraceful. I'm frustrated by some of the comments I've already heard about witnesses statements, lifestyles, and backgrounds. I don't want to make any assumptions, but if what I fear most is true about radio silence from my church this morning,  I may need to rethink where I spend my Sunday mornings.
Yes I am full of frustration. I am heartbroken. I don't understand why ISIS kills the innocent.
I implore you, keep your focus and prayers on what matters. That's what I am going to do.. I am going to let my heart break for what breaks the heart of my God. Some of his children died senselessly today.
Pray for the victims families killed by these men both in Syria and America. Thank God for each day we get. I am not here to tell you where God is when something like this happens. I don't have an easy answer for that but I know that God is the same today as he was yesterday, and he will be the same tomorrow. And that's about the only assurance I have right now. 

Use Somebody

blog title chosen because I just freaking love this song and it's been stuck in my head lately.

2014 - I lived under a thick cloud of depression and confusion. I was in so much pain and it felt as though my entire life was in disarray. 
2015 - that thick cloud began to lift. I still had dark moments but I was more willing to bring those dark things to light, accept them, and work through them. 
2016 so far, has been a lot of forward progression. If I'm honest so much has happened and is happening and I'll try not to go into super gory detail about it. 
I'm realizing that I'm a very moody person. I'm caught between "just keeping it real" with people/not wanting to "put on a face" and curbing my emotions and simmering down if I'm angry or just not feeling it that day. I guess I just don't appreciate fake people so when I'm feeling like Satan pooped on my day specifically, I don't want to act like everything is ok. If I feel like garbage I'm not going to act like a sunflower I'm sorry. In the same breath I can say that I do quite often feel like a sunflower so when I am acting like a sunflower, it's not an act at all, it's real. Generally I have a gift of joy so often I think Satan does take a crap because what I have is something he would like to squash. And more days than I'd like to admit, he wins. 
At any rate, lessons are being learned. Nearly a quarter of the way through 2016 (seriously, HOW?!?) and I can say definitively that things are happening. Good things.
I had a mid twenties life/career change. Always fun. 
I will soon be traveling to a foreign country that I've never been to with people I've never traveled with. So I think they're cool and I think they think I'm cool but like I said, we've never traveled together. 
I am learning that my self esteem has come leaps and bounds. Hearing truth about who I was created to be and blocking out lies. But this is a daily struggle for me.
I'm being honest about my feelings, good and bad, and I have people in my life who I know will love me through the good and the bad.
I continue to place relationships with people above literally anything else and I know this is a problem. How do I know this? I can easily spend hours thinking about one thing one of my friends may have said to me, offhand. Who does that? Me? Right now? no!yes.ugg.
I am realizing that I do have a unique and specific heart and I need to be doing what I love. And I'm working on it (I'm just going to say it: I love old people. So much. It can get out of hand sometimes. "Mariah! look at those old people!" is like a saying now.)
I still talk too much and don't listen enough.
I'm still about 10 years old when it comes to humor. I'm about 10 years old when it comes to boys/crushes. And as always, with dancing, I'm timeless. Baby I'm classic. This is a love that will never die.
I need to say things that bother me that I know I can't just let go, even if the person I'm saying it to isn't going to like what they hear. 
I am building friendships that are not based on who I was in high school. I'm building really fun but also serious relationships with people who are learning how to adult right alongside me. 
I am learning to love. I am learning who and how Jesus loved and I try to do the same. 


that's just a quick update on my life. My friends and family thank you for your support.

ps. I got a new phone # in January so if any of you want that just text me. just kidding that's so stupid. Direct message me K? :)