writers block

I am a writer.

I have writers block.

But it's not because I don't know what to write about, it's because I don't know HOW to write it. Heavy burdens are on my heart. Happy thoughts dance through my head. Ideas and theories are on my mind. Memories are about to make me burst. Excitement has put joy in my path.

But I don't know how to write.

So, in an effort to just put something up here I , quote Nickleback. "Today's a gift, not a given."

No matter how great, hard, gruesome or humorous my day was, it was a gift. I'm sorry I don't know HOW to write it. Because you would probably laugh and cry. Maybe even at the same time.

Life is a gift.

And despite my writers block, God is still writing my story. Yours too :)

Greatness

My God showing off His abilities to make beauty. Pretty darn cool.

I've been thinking a lot about greatness lately.

It's one of those things I do. Think, that is. [not always in the moment, but most assuredly in hindsight.]

Over the last couple of days I've been counting the number of people I know who are greatness in real life. It's one of those tasks that can be hard or easy, just depending on your view of life or the circumstances you find surrounding you. Thankfully, I didn't have a hard time coming up with a list.

Greatness is my dad. Really, you don't have to look too hard to realize it. He loves people, he desires to make others successful. And he's wise. Really wise.

And my best friend Kristen. She is greatness. She abounds with life. She runs toward challenges not from them. She has the most incredible patient faith.

Greatness was my team in Hualien. I could not have asked for 3 more amazing people to live and serve with. Hearts wide open, love pouring from the deepest love for Jesus. Hardships conquered with prayer. Complete trust to let Jesus break their hearts, just so He could heal them.

My friend Tabitha in Nepal, told me that it was okay if God never gave her her greatest dream. Because she really wanted to love her people, in her country, the people right around her. She said that it doesn't matter if she makes bad grades because she won't worship the Hindu gods at her school, her God is more important. She is greatness.

I have more I could list. But there is one that I really want to talk about. It's called LOVE146.

My friend Caleb told me about LOVE146 last July, and I've been excited about it ever since.

LOVE146 is greatness.

An organization that is fighting for the end of child sex slavery and exploitation around the world, LOVE146 is providing safe environments for children who have been rescued from slavery, prompting networking to prevent future exploitation and providing great research to abolish slavery world wide.

Human trafficking has become a great passion of mine. I know that I've not been a huge advocate of it, but all of my past theory posts and the Asia January gallery is all about abolishing human trafficking. It's hard for me to share my heart with the world at large, but after thinking about this I had to get the courage to actually *talk* about what God has given me a passion for.

So here is the talk. In the months of May and June, LOVE146 is doing a campaign to raise money to add to their already strong efforts against sex slavery and exploitation. It's called TREAD ON TRAFFICKING the goal is for as many people as able to take the next couple of months to get back into shape after winter (around where I live, it was one loooong one) while raising money to stop human trafficking. I am participating in this quest, and I'm giving you an opportunity to participate too.

Here's what you can do:

I need people to sponsor the miles that I will be running. It doesn't matter how much you can give. If it's a penny a mile or a dollar a mile, everything counts and is worth it.

If you are interested, you can send me an email at gracymiller@gmail.com or leave a comment.

My friends this is your chance to make a difference. Human trafficking is the number one crime in the world. It's estimated 27million people are bound in slavery. LOVE146 is helping to change that. And we can help them.

This world needs people who are greatness. Time after time I've walked right past the opportunities to be just that. I don't want to do it this time.

'lana

brothers. who happen to have more energy and much better looks than me :)

I love them muchly.

Kept

I've been meaning to update for quite sometime, and trust me, I do have some thoughts and more stories to share. But, life has had me running crazy as of late.

This morning I was reading Jude, and the second part of verse one said this: "To those who have been called, who are loved by God the Father and kept by Jesus Christ:"

I have to admit, huge comfort came to me in reading that. "kept by Jesus Christ"

Yes I am a full time student. But I am kept by Jesus Christ.

I am leading a team on an overseas mission trip this summer. But I'm being kept by Jesus.

Yes, I do spend about 6 hours a week on projects to fight human trafficking--But my Jesus is keeping me.

My family does have many stresses right now with health and the school year coming to an end, But we are being kept by Jesus.

I am doing a fantastic program and being mentored in my photography, that does take up much of my time yet all the while not only am I kept by Jesus, but I'm loved by God.

I work as a barista, and have many other projects, and Jesus is keeping me. Close to His heart.

My friends, I just wanted to share this with you, not because I want to promote my insane schedule (I really don't recommend this life), but because I know you're lives are just as crazy. But you too can be kept by Jesus Christ. He is weaving together a beautiful work in your life, don't doubt it. Life will bring challenges, surprises, more than we can handle. But since we can't see what God is weaving out of our lives, my prayer for us all is that we will be able to trust in the fact that we are loved by God the Father and kept by Jesus Christ.

-alana

[from the journals] August

The van came to a sudden halt, apparently we were “here.” Here was the church, orphanage, pastor’s home and second floor belongs to someone else. A busy place.

“Hello!” was heard as the van door was thrown open, and all our mouths were just as ajar. There in front of us was a dirty half built brick building that hardly could be called such. Three little boys stood in front of the half wall that sort of surrounded it. August was the tallest, and the first to extend a welcome.

What was most amazing about August was his English. No doubt about it. The “I’m glad you’re here!” “I can help you” “Can we sing?” “I like ‘This is the Day’ best.” Pretty much blew us away. August is about 11 years old. And he made sure you didn’t call him “Austin.” No, his name is August.

The first night we were in Kathmandu, he was always popping his head in and out. It didn’t take long to find out he was not part of the orphanage, but lived on the second story of the building with his family. It also didn’t take long to see he was loving having 12 playmates living under him, and that he enjoyed knowing their songs and stories. Really, August was what made the team feel at home the first night.

The second morning was beautiful. We went on a walk and came back to the church to play with the children while we waited for the bus to head to the first conference. August took to the camera, he loved being able to talk to us about it, hoping that we would trust him enough to let him shoot a couple of pictures. And a few times I did.

He would reach out and grab the strap, slide it over his head and carefully lift the viewfinder to his eye. His aim was bad and he was afraid to work the zoom. But he loved it! One time I made a deal with him, “Okay, you can take a picture of me, but I can take on of you too, okay?” “Okay.

So I got on his level, and he took my picture, then I told him to lean against the wall, and smile. He did, and his picture was captured.

I didn’t know that when I told August goodbye and he said “You will be back in 5 days time right?” that I would never see him again. I really thought he would be at the house to greet me when I came back to Kathmandu. I don’t know where August went, I don’t know why I didn’t see him in my last three days in the country. But I do know I learned from him.

When you sing, do it at the top of your lungs. When you clap make sure your hands hurt when you are finished. When you give hugs, give them with your heart behind it. When you say hello, do it with a huge smile on your face. And when you ask questions, desire the answers.

God will take care of August. I know He will. But still I will pray for him as often as I can. This little boy has love on his side. And even if I never see him again, I know there is a Savior who is chasing after him, who wants to know him, and would go to such great lengths as putting a pastor and his church right below his family. Even giving him 12 orphaned playmates. God WANTS August. I pray with all my heart that He will receive him.

oh, the best friend right?

Me teaching English in Nepal. It really has nothing to do with the post, just a picture of something I love. Oh and it's in a place I love too! I believe Marcus Wilson took this picture.

I have a new hero. His name is Jonathan. He’s that guy who's known for being best friends with that guy named David who happened to be the “man after God’s own heart.”

I’ll add that I think Jonathan was also a “man after God’s own heart,” it’s just that God’s plan for him was so much different than David’s. Maybe that’s why he is my new hero. Jonathan wasn’t ever destined to be in the limelight like David was. Instead, he lived his life on the edge, loving the man who was to take his fame while realizing that he was to die so that man could take his inheritance. Pretty epic if you ask me.

But what I admire so much about Jonathan is the gumption he had. I mean how many of us, knowing that someone was to take all that we were ‘created to be,’ would work to make them our best friend—and then willingly die so they could have everything? Not very many.

But Jonathan did. And he did so much more than that.

I Samuel 14:1-23 is worth reading. It will only take you about 5 minutes so just go read it.

I’m one of those people who have read this before, but the wonder and insanity of the story never stood out to me until today. Jonathan gets tired of waiting around, so with his only back-up being his trusty armor bearer, he takes off in to the Philistines camp without telling anyone—by way of climbing a cliff. His reasoning: “Perhaps the LORD will act on our behalf.”

Um, I don’t think I would have had that courage.

“Nothing can hinder the LORD from saving, whether by many or by few.”

I don’t want to spoil the story, but to live by that faith and courage is what I long for. The moral of this post is just this:

Think about your life, think about what it is that God has destined you for, and think about the gumption you might need to get it done. And then rethink how you’re living. Folks, God didn’t call us to ‘play it safe.’ The Bible isn’t filled with stories about people who worked hard to keep bad things from happening—more like the polar opposite. It’s filled with stories of people who went looking for trouble. And then found victory.

Today, I’m rethinking the way I want to live. Daring is kinda the goal now.

[from the journals] Hope Now

For the next couple of weeks, to go along with Asia January being exibited I will be posting some of the stories of the people who's pictures are part of the collection. It's my hope that you all will get to experience and see a part of a people who can change your life!

[journal entry 01.18.10]

There will always be times in this life when I feel like I’ve almost been cheated. I felt like that this morning, when we left Kawosati. I left behind a people who will be in my heart for a long time. So I write their stories, I write so I can remember and so they can be known. It is her story I want to write most, so as I close my eyes and remember her pink, almost red, skirt blowing slightly in the wind, I pour out my heart over who she has become to me.

“Hope Now”

I don’t even know her name. I don’t know where she’s from. I don’t even know what cast she is—just that it is not very high. But for as long as I live I will remember her, especially her eyes.

Pure eyes, hopeful eyes, eyes that betrayed the sorrow on her face and showed the freedom within.

Everyday she was dressed in all red. She didn’t have a change of clothes. Almost always her shawl was wrapped around her head and she looked downward to the extreme. But when she smiled, everything changed. She was radiant!

One of the first times I remember seeing her was at the worship service on Saturday, a piece of paper in front of her and an intent look on her face as she took notes. I remember her praying, on her face before the King of Kings. It was beautiful.

I had never seen her smile, not on Saturday, not on Sunday. But at lunch on Saturday I took out my camera, just so I could take some portraits. She was sitting on the long bench with the rest of the women. I was working my way down the line, because everyone wanted to have a picture of ‘just me.’ When I got to her, at first she shook her head, telling me no. I gave her my best ‘pretty please?’ look and after a hesitant half smile she let me.

What surprised me and almost made me cry was the smile that lit up her face when I had the camera to my eye. Before she was a girl who looked sad from a distance, but now she had the hope that was so evident in her eyes all over her face.

In a moment my camera gave me a gift I never would have received alone. It gave me a glimpse into the heart of a young girl who walked 10 hours to hear foreigners speak. A heart that had more than it’s share of sorrow, yet still clung fast to the Hope that was in Jesus Christ. My camera allowed me to capture hope in a rare form, hope that is alive. Hope that can’t die.

When Sunday came, and our team sat about to wash the feet of everyone at the conference, I got the privilege of washing her feet. She humbly sat in front of me and slid her sandals off. She was uncertain when I picked up her foot, but still released it willingly. Her feet were calloused and cut. It was evident she had walked many miles to get to the church. Her feet told a story all in themselves, of a hard life, one that continually was a struggle to survive. But when I looked up to her face, a single tear slid down and she smiled at me, thanking me with her eyes.

This girl is precious to Jesus. And just because she came into my life she is precious to me. It is impossible to see so much pain overcome by hope and not be changed. Her story is like so many others in this world. Stories that long to be told, that truly can change the lives of hundreds of thousands of people. This girl, who is nameless in the story, has the ability to hope in the moment. Right now.

I hope to someday know her name. I hope to someday hear her tell all of her story. But for now, I am praying what is known of her story will touch lives. That people will see the beauty she has in her ability to hope. And be changed.

So I'm really shy on video, but here is the cool thing in my life right now. Forgive the web cam effect (please?!)

[The gallery will be showing April 1- May 27 and the official opening is April 11th at 2pm, come by!]

-lans