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? :) 

If you didn't get engaged

If you were a part of the minority that did not get engaged to their significant other this holiday season, this is for you. If you're still waiting for someone to put a ring on it: STOP!
I'll be the first to admit it: I am a monster of my own making. I have seen all the movies and believed all the force fed white lies that tell me fairy tales exist. The monster I have become is a romantic. Paired with my inherited tendencies to feel both good and bad emotions to their full extremes, it makes me a hopeless romantic. A hopeless romantic with a crippling fear of rejection, making me one bottled up mess when it comes to matters of the heart. All this to say that as it stands right now I am very far away from ever having a ring on it. And you know? I'm ok with that. In a world that tells me I should not be, I'm LEARNING every day, to be ok with that. 
For as long as I can remember, I was allowing myself to live in a false reality where my happy ever after was GOING to happen. I knew with who and how. But here I am, living in a world after having to give up what I thought would be true and I don't know what to do, but I know I need to stop waiting for him. I need to stop waiting for that perfect guy to come and tell me he loves me and wants to give me the world. Stop waiting for him to feed me those lines I always hear in the movies. You know the lines I'm talking about, the ones he drops right before they kiss and the credits roll. The lines she has been waiting for her whole life and finally hears. The lines that FINALLY fulfill her life, so now the movie can end, right?  No one shares the story of the girl who watched it happen, wishing more than any thing it was her.

2015 has taught me so much. There's life after heartache. Spiders are Satans feces (jk...not really kind of but not really, nope, not really joking) There is a huge need in this world for unattached adults (childless, partnerless). Floridians can breathe water vapor for long periods of time (13 months of the year). There is more than what the romcoms tell us there is. But of all the lessons I've learned it all comes to this one thing: I cannot change reality by denying it. This year I have been accepting who I am. I have seen little glimpses who God has made me and I have even begun to love and accept that girl. Crazy I know!! 
Sure there are things that I don't want to accept about me, because there are things that I don't like about me, but no one except me can change it. No one else has to give me permission to change or not change and no one is going to tell me what to change. Those days ended right around the time I started paying for my own food and other various expenses. I think they call that adulthood but I'm not sure. 
So all you other ringless wonders out there, would you join me? Lets find out who we are, show the world, and kick butt!

Mom & Dad

I don't live with my parents. The last time I really lived with them I was 17. Then came college and then came their move across the world. Time and distance has been the best thing for my relationship with them because I see with objectivity all they have done for me and how they have shaped me. 
They chose to raise me in a conservative christian bubble. They put me in a Christian school, k-12. I chose a Christian university. Think whatever you will of this. 
I could blame my parents for a lot of things in my life. I could blame them for my general ignorance about how the world works. I could blame them for my being an idealist because of this.
But I won't BLAME them  - I'm CREDITING them with that because the best thing they ever did for me was root me in the foundational truths of the gospel. Outside influence and understanding of any thing outside the "christian bubble" is something I have to learn and interpret for myself any ways. 
Here's what I can NOT blame them for: dysfunctional relationships. Granted, my situation with the topic of "boys" is QUITE unique, but that chapter is over. The example set for me is truly a rarity. 
My mom drives me insane at times. 
My dad drives me insane at times. 
They both need to fix EVERY thing as soon as possible. 
Mom some times puts up a hard front but we all know that most of the time that wonderful woman is way too soft inside. 
Dad can't talk about ANYTHING remotely serious with out making a list of bullet points. Bless his beautiful administrative heart. 
And for the record, I see so much of both of them in myself all the time. Most of the time I love it but every so often it makes me cringe. OK back to mom and pop...
They are in love with each other and have been for the majority of their lives. I guess I could blame them for setting the standard so high. 
I personally don't know how they have put up with each other for so long because I don't think I could be married to either one of them. But I love them so much for that. 
The example of two imperfect people living an amazing life together. 
I think I just made myself cry. 
I also can NOT blame them for a lack of support. 
I was an extremely miserable 17 year old. Let me just say it: I was a bitch. But the worst kind. The kind that pretended to be a nice girl in front of every one but my family. 
My parents were telling me things 7 years ago that I am just now learning. I am still trying to forgive myself for all the time I wasted not listening to them, but from what I hear, it's quite common for teenagers to not listen to their parents? 
Thanks mom and dad, for not saying "I told you so" when I was sobbing to you over the phone and even in your spare room, in your arms, as the things you warned me about years ago were now breaking my heart. 
Thank you for loving me through it. 
I guess I just wrote this post because I'm their grown up daughter who was raised by the best two parents in the world. I wrote this because a new chapter in my life has started and I need their support and love in my life. I always have and I always will. 

QUICKLY NOW

HURRY grab the keyboard - AND SOME CHOCOLATE and GET TO WRITING - I tell myself because I am having a moment of fresh perspective so I'm writing it out before I forget.

I'm three months behind in listening to Tori Kelly's new album "Unbreakable Smile". I've loved that lady from her YouTube days, collabs with my personal fav Jeremy Passion. Any way. She has a song on it called "The Art of Letting You Go". I thought that her hit "Should've been us" was my jam but I was wrong. This letting go song is my jam. Like honestly part of me hates her for writing the perfect song for me, from the very first VERSE to the last word. Curses, Tori, curses and kisses. I'M REALLY EXCITED BECAUSE I AM NOT THE ONLY ONE THAT HAS GONE WHAT I WENT THROUGH!! Well, what I am still going through.

Because YES letting go of what you thought would be and should be everything is indeed an art form because it's as hard as hell to do. BUT GUESS WHAT? Tori Kelly wrote a song about it and it's not the end of her world and it's certainly not the end of mine.

I'm guessing that Tori and I are not the only two people in the world that have had to accept 'no' as the answer and suffer with the heartbreak that comes with the letting go process. If we were the only two, I don't think she would write a song about it because she, like me, would be so ashamed of the way she was feeling that even if she penned a ballad about it she wouldn't put it on her break-out album.

All this to say that I'm not as much of an anomaly as I once thought, and that's encouraging to me.

At this point you are thinking I'm so silly. "Mariah" you say "of course you're not the only one to have had this experience, don't you know?" Hardly any one is EVER alone in any feelings they may be experiencing, no matter how it feels, you are NOT alone, trust me. Human experiences tend to be rather similar. That's the beauty of it all. Of course I'm not the only one to have been on the losing end of unrequited love. Of course I'm not the only one to have held on to something for much too long. If Miss Kelly struggles with it, then I don't feel like such a loser for having the same feelings.

So here is where I exhale. The relief that perspective brings is sweet and long awaited, even if it's for a fleeting moment. Battling my feelings of regret and embarrassment is going to be a continual process. But, thanks to distance and time, these battles are just that - battles- and battles come in waves. Distance and time have been been good to me. The tunnel I've been in has a light at the end and I've caught glimpses. I am prepared for good days and bad days. And I cannot do it on my own. I have to be kept accountable so I can continue to heal and move on.

And whereas this song brought much needed validation, I musn't linger. [this just in - 'mustn't' must be a British thing, because spell check isn't liking it, thanks mom (also, for my FL buddies if you ever hear me saying something that doesn't sound quite right just assume it's a British phrase because I use certain language on occasion that I don't even realize is un-American just because I have used it my whole life. The struggle is real)] I need to continue to move on and look forward. This perspective that I am not alone in my experience comes OVER A YEAR after leaving the place and people I called home, so as far as I have come I know it's an incredibly slow process and it is far from over. I know I have a quite a ways to go and I know I'm going to need encouragement to not dwell on it. I know I need to forgive and forget, even if that means maybe doing things that are not comfortable for me and maybe even one day going to places I never thought I'd have to go again.

Praise the Lord for His grace in all of this.
 

California Love

Travel does the soul good. This is a known fact. It brings perspective on where you are in your life, both geographically and emotionally. This is exactly what happened to me on my last excursion. 

It's been over a year since I decided to leave California. I bought my one-way ticket out of California a year ago on August 27, 2014. On August 27, 2015, I was back in my home state, helping one of my dearest friends get ready for her wedding day. The irony of me being back on the west coast a year after 'leaving it behind' is almost too much to bare. Hilarious? Maybe a little.

The first time my life was uprooted and relocated in such dramatic fashion I was 5 years old and I had no say in the matter, and I was too young to realize the effect it would have on my life. The second time is when I went to college. College, a bubble specially designed for friendships and community, and oh yeah - structure and learning. This last uprooting, though was of my own doing, and I had no training wheels. 

Beginning again has been a lot like college, except there are no coordinated social friendship building events. This time around I was 23 years old and I descended into the lives of people (family) that were already living theirs, I was just starting mine. Even the people I have found here that I really like (friends) have their own lives, and I'm just trying to convince them that they need me in it. 

So why am I still talking about my new life here in florida, 8 months later? Because I have come to realize that 8 months  (four months in Morocco does not count, in case you caught the timeline disparity) is NOT a long time and it is still all very new to me. The last place I lived I was there for almost 20 years so to compare what I had in California to what I have here right now is grossly unfair.  

My visits to California, being with the family and friends that were all so familiar to me, granted me perspective. Yes, I had a life over there. And when there are people there who I allowed to hurt me badly there were countless others that loved me and wanted to best for me. And I was not finding the best for me there, so I left. So here is a reminder to myself that life here is just beginning and I need to take my west coast experience and not get depressed on how far I HAVE NOT got with my life on the east coast but look at how far I HAVE come. I have the start of something great here. I still do not know what's best for me but I'm beginning to see that it's all a choice. It was my choice, ultimately, to come here and it is within my choosing to stay or go. But I believe happiness is a choice and I have as great a chance finding it here as I do anywhere, and the day I think that's not the case I'll be gone. I get to choose who I spend my time with. I get to choose HOW I spend my time. By God's grace I have a great job and some great people in my life. By His grace I can continue to foster those friendships I have already established. By His grace I can lay my insecurities aside, begin new friendships and seek new opportunities that I have offered to me being young, single, and [dirt poor but] debt free. 

well, ttfn ta ta for now.