Emma

"Sometimes, the whole picture is never meant to be seen."

That is a piece of wisdom that most times I don't want to hear. Especially when it comes to my little cousin Emma. I just don't understand.

Emma is one of the most precious baby girls I've ever met. Full of smiles, life and joy.

I think that's why it's so hard to understand.

Emma isn't like normal baby girls. All her life she's been in and out of hospitals, poked and prodded, in and out of surgeries. It hurts knowing all she has had to go through, a story that would make anyone cry.

But really, the hurt is only half of Emma's story. The other half is harder to see. It's the half that if you didn't know it was there would be completely looked over. This half of Emma's story comes from others. From family, uncles, aunts, grandparents and Jesus.

It took me a long time to learn of the love Jesus has for Emma. And even still I know I can't understand. But somehow, someway, I hope to. In the midst of this fallen world, Jesus loves deep enough to allow Emma to go through this pain.

It feels wrong to say.

But it's true.

On December 31, 2010, I spent the afternoon with Emma and my dear Aunt, her Nana. I couldn't think of a better way to spend the last day of 2010. For the first time, I got to hold and meet this little one. For the first time I saw the sparkle in her eye, heard her talk, saw the wheels constantly turning in her smart little head. In those moments I remembered: My Uncle Rick praying, every day at every meal, lifting her up before the throne of God. I remembered the other countless people who have spend days praying for her healing. I thought of the Savior who came just for her.

I realized Jesus isn't finished with her yet.

My baby cousin Emma understands a part of Jesus at two that I will probably never understand in a lifetime. She understands suffering and the joy that can come from it.

In many ways, I believe Emma wouldn't be as happy as she is if she weren't in pain. I don't think she would bring sunshine to the world if people weren't praying for her. I believe that this precious little one wouldn't know joy without her suffering.

And yet, all I want is for her to heal. It broke my heart to know she's back in the hospital.

So I still don't understand. I never will. How love can be so deep, so flawless, that beauty can come from pain? I believe it will come in Emma's life. I believe it already is. It just hurts to see.

If the day ever comes when I understand, I'll try to put it in words. And when Emma makes it to the other side--the side of living a healthy life, I'll write all of her story. But right now all I can do is pray. And trust.

Jesus loves Emma. So much more than any of my family could. So much more than we could ever imagine. Which is why I can't see the whole picture. Why none of us can.

"Sometimes, the whole picture is never meant to be seen."

Merry Christmas

It dawned on me this morning that it was last Christmas when I started this blog. It’s hard to believe what I’ve been through over this last year. And sometimes, it’s even harder to believe what is coming for this next year.

I can’t lie and say that life is all hunky dory. It’s not. I’m tired really. Worn out and overwhelm by what has come my way. But it is Christmas, and no matter how tired I am, excitement is bubbling inside of me and spilling out all the time.

I’m just so blessed. There are more presents than I could ever have imagined at my second family’s house. People have been more than generous. I got to spend a weekend with my family. I wish it was more, WAY more, but at least I got that much. I have friends who care, really care for me. I have the best roommate ever. Like I said: so blessed.

And to give more news—I’m headed back to Asia. In three weeks. Once again it’s like time is repeating it’s self, this time last year I was preparing for Nepal. Today I prepare for Taiwan. Three weeks! I’m more than excited, (and overwhelmed) and I’m more than sure that God’s blessing is upon this!

But right now, in the midst of my overwhelm, I’m quietly celebrating my Jesus choosing to come to earth and become a man, so I (Me!) could be saved. I’m my normal quirky self when I do this: I read The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, then the Christmas story, then sing a little, then drink chai. Because He loves me.

"For unto you is born this day, in the City of David, a Savior, Who is Christ the LORD."

Merry Christmas Friends

I Will Never Be the Same.

I’ve always liked to think of myself as an adventure seeker. In some ways what I think of myself is true. I love to travel; I love running into the unknown facing each day, especially if I’m overseas, with a zest for life.

But there is another side of me.

It’s the side of me that needs a home, a place I’ll always know I’m loved and accepted. By having a home, a haven, I’m given the freedom to find the adventure I long for.

I’ve always had that refuge. Until November 29, 2010.

My home was taken away. Not by a person, not by a mistake, not even by failure. It was taken away by life. Life refined me, a girl who was getting settled after my last move, finally seeing the new place as her refuge and home, with fire. The house of wonderful family who took me in burned down.

And e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. the family owned was lost. Suddenly, I didn’t have a home anymore. Yes, I lived in the guesthouse, and only lost a few things—But my home was gone.

And this is where the story really begins.

It’s a story that I hope to write in entirety someday, but right now all I can seem to say is: My God is so good. His love is deeper than the depths of the sea; He has given back ten-fold more than was taken away. His heart is so for me and my second family that He has brought together His Kingdom just to overwhelm us.

I know it’s only been three weeks, but it feels like three years.

I'm sorry to leave you, my blog friends, hanging. By not posting and by not being able to finish this story. I long to, really I do. But for now, thank you for your prayers. We still need them. [and for me I'll never stop needing them :)]

Jesus is holding us close to His heart. And we are healing from life's circumstances. We will never be the same again.

Much Love,

Alana

twenty-five

This is probably not my parent's favorite picture of themselves... but I love it. Because it shows how fun and cool they are. I'm just saying... my parents are the coolest parents in the world. Hands down folks.

There are two people in this world who love me more than anyone else.

My parents.

Today, is their twenty-fifth anniversary. That is a beautiful thing. Just the thought of two people loving each other for that long.. is far past amazing.

I couldn't be more grateful for the parents God has given me. Sometimes I'm amazed at how many places I've seen differences in other parents, and been grateful for the way my parents raised me.

I've learned more from them than anyone in the world. I learned how to ride a bike, how to shoot a gun, how to show a sheep, how to drive a tractor...just how to drive. They spent weeks (literally) driving me to music lessons, and even more time reminding me to practice.

My parents showed me how to love Jesus, they taught me what it means to be open, they showed me the path of righteousness. My parents made me into an opportunity taker, they led me to be a woman of faith.

I am who I am because of my parents. And I know they are proud of me.

Daddy, Momma, I love you. And I want the whole world to know it. God in His grace gave me to you, and you to me, I could never repay you for the love you have poured over me all my life. Thank you. For loving God, for loving each other. Thank you for showing me what kind of a parent I wish to be, and for letting God take care of me and lead me where He wants me to go.

You are indeed the best.

All my love,

Alana

Today I'm Feeling...

Unable to Focus.

"Whatever you're doing inside of me
It feels like chaos somehow there's peace
It's hard to surrender to what I can't see
but I'm giving in to something heavenly"

I don't know where I'm going right now. I can't see what lies ahead. But I'm giving in. I'm letting go, trusting in the One who sees all things to take care of me.

When I think of Heaven

I'm coming off of one of those days, the kind that you just wonder why you're depressed. Because life is good. Because life is beautiful. Because your God is good, He's with you and His love is always pouring over you. But still, Satan attacks and you're depressed.

I don't know why today was like that. So tonight I think of Heaven.

I long for the day that life will always be good, beautiful, God will be before my eyes and Satan will be defeated.

When I think of heaven I think of my Granddad, how he is rejoicing before the throne of God. I think of how much he taught me about Jesus, and his love. I think of how bold he was, and how much I wish to smile as much as he did.

I think of Veria, and her zest for life. I think of how she is probably sitting on Jesus knee telling Him to make sure her little sister has a best friend and her brothers are safe. I think of how she is bowing before the King of kings telling Him how grateful she is that He gave her eternal life.

Heaven makes me think of my cousin Emma. I think of how much I want her to be healed, and how unfair it is that she can't be perfect until heaven. I think of the prayers that still go up for her before the throne. I think of holding her hand and telling her I love her. I think of how precious she is to my Father and how His love is so deep for her He allowed her to go through this pain.

I think of my friend Jeff. I think of how when I get to heaven all of my friendships will be like the one I have with him. Cultural difference will vanish and the Kingdom will be all that is before our eyes. I think of how great it is talking to him, how amazing it is to be equal. I think of running around in the rain and trying on hats as brother and sister not worrying because all that offends has really and truly disappeared. That will make heaven really great.

I think of worshiping with Steven, and talking with Nick. I think of dancing with my family and my Grandpa being able to run. I think of Priscilla's back not hurting and being able to eat dairy again. I think of my grandparent's prayers coming true and Ryan being better. I think of my desire to see all 1800 of my students again, even Gary. I think of my siblings and I being every bit of the rascals n such we are and making people laugh. I think of seeing all my friends from around the world I probably will never see again on this earth. I think of how much I want them in heaven with me.

But mostly I think of seeing clearly, of being hugged by my Jesus and never tiring of sitting at His feet. I think of not crying, even as I cry right now. I think of what Kennan said: How heaven will be better than I could ever think.

"For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known."

1 Corinthians 13:12

Photo Credit: Nepal Mission Team 2010 and Austin Hanes

The Reality of My World

It's true, when we are young, the world can't hurt us. Because the world consists of red wagons, slides, kittens, toy trucks and our parents loving arms. But then we grow up. I hate it really. I hate the fact that growing up had to happen. The sad part isn't that the world can now hurt us, but that often our world doesn't grow.

Instead of red wagons there are fast cars, instead of slides there is fast paced job. Instead of loving and protecting arms, there is a void to be filled by whatever satisfies the moment. Each world usually doesn't grow up with the body, it just becomes square instead of rectangle.

The saddest thing I've heard all week is this: Nothing happens, life just goes on. I cried when I heard it. How could someone I love actually have this perspective their story, their life? How could life be reduced to "just going on?" I simply couldn't understand a world so small.

But it made me stop; it made me think about my world. To me, my world is bigger than most. It is very safe to say that is pride talking. I love everything about cross culture, I love defying differences, I love tearing down walls with the Kingdom of Heaven as my alliance. Yet, compared to my God's world, I know nothing, my world is tiny.

Sometimes it requires me crying for someone else to see how much I need to cry for myself. Sometimes it takes a close friend choosing to let their story lose wonder for me to see my story is also fading. Sometimes it takes a jolt of reality to know remember I was not called to judge, but to love.

Tonight, as I write this, I realize my story isn't going to be worth reading if I don't let my world grow. More importantly, my story isn't worth anything unless Jesus Christ is the author. So I cheer on those who are letting Jesus author their stories, and I send out a plea to the rest of us: Wouldn't it be amazing if life couldn't be reduced to "just going on" simply by us letting go and trusting the Creator of the Universe to "grow up" our worlds?