These five months of living as a Young Adult Volunteer have initiated incredible learning and growing, for sure; however, they haven’t come without necessary growing pains.
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I am an individual of great privilege.  I am who I am today because of the opportunities, supportive communities, life-long mentors and friends, and love that I have been given.  I can never adequately show my gratitude for the strength, love, and confidence you all have instilled in me.  Yet, I also can’t ignore that not everyone is born into such a place of love, support, and privilege.

This is not to say that I am not privileged in my current living situation either.  I have a fulfilling job with supportive co-workers and wonderful students.  I live in a beautiful house surrounded by strong, courageous, and engaged sister volunteers.  And although we live on a budget smaller than that I have lived on before, we eat, experience life, and live very well and comfortably.

So why the growing pains?  To be honest, it’s the little things that I knew I was signing up for – the things that I intentionally chose the YAV program in order to experience – that have frustrated me the most and made me most aware of my privilege and of my dependence.
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Over the past three summers, I have written my own curriculum and taught in my own classroom.  During student teaching, I had full independence and control to teach what I wanted to and how I wanted to.  Here in Albuquerque, I am working as a part-time volunteer teaching assistant.  It has been hard for this perfectionist, used-to-having-control, engaged first-year teacher (that would be me) to go from teaching in my own classroom to assisting in seven different classrooms.  Sometimes I feel like I am not doing enough.  Sometimes I feel like things are not going how I would like them to.  Sometimes I want to do more.

And yet, being a teaching assistant has given me the opportunity to grow in ways that I wouldn’t if I were teaching in my own classroom.  Not having to focus on lesson planning, copying papers, and always being the one to give instruction has allowed me to solely focus my energy on the students’ academic and personal needs. I am learning so much about individual student interests, struggles, and learning needs.  I have more time to sit and listen to students who need someone to talk to.  I have more time to go to sporting events and support students outside of school.  I can work more closely with students who need one-on-one attention.  I get frustrated and discouraged sometimes; however, more often than not, I am encouraged and motivated and impressed and inspired by my time with the students here.  Taking a step back has been an incredibly humbling learning and growing experience.
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The other main source of growing pains has been not having a car.  Since I was able to drive, I have never been without a family car or a personal car to drive.  I am fortunate enough to have a bike to ride and the Albuquerque bus system is very affordable, but yet I still get frustrated way too frequently and easily and I often feel stuck.  I had never used the public bus system before studying abroad in Costa Rica and I can still count on my two hands the number of times when I have used public transportation in the United States.  Growing up, driving a car felt extremely normal and something that was a given.  I am reminded frequently here that a car is a huge privilege.  And the fact that I have never been without a car until now is an even bigger privilege.

Being without a car makes me very dependent on the other YAVs here in New Mexico that do have cars.  Although I can bike and ride the bus to a lot of places, there are just as many places that the public transit system does not travel to.  And being used to lending out my car and being the designated chauffer for my friends in high school and college, it has been frustrating to have the situation flipped around here.  I feel like a burden to other people if I want to do anything off campus.  I feel dependent and needy.

And yet, in the frustration, I recognize that feeling dependent reminds me of my shared humanity – reminds me of how dependent I really am on my friends, family, and parents.  Even when at times I feel independent and strive for more independence, I can never and should never forget that I am interdependent on so many people.  Even if it takes something as trivial as not having a car to drive, I am glad (although often reluctantly) for the reminder that I cannot – truly cannot – do everything on my own.  I depend on other people and other people depend on me, and that is a necessary and good and solidaria thing.
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Coming from a place of privilege, it is hard to look that privilege in the face and put my reflections into practical action.  It’s not an easy nor a quick process.  Sometimes, I feel so guilty that I want to stop trying.  Sometimes I feel like I am never going to kick the privileged way in which I think or act, so I wonder if it’s even worth trying.  And sometimes, I savor and appreciate and feel so blessed to be learning from the times of discomfort and clarity.

There are many moments when I recognize how dependent I am; and in these moments, I become frustrated.  But these moments also help me recognize how dependent I am on God.  Living in conscious dependence of other people and of God doesn’t mesh well with the independent way that I am told I need to live as a young adult.  Ultimately, it is in this conscious dependence of my neighbors and of God that I recognize how blessed, lucky, and privileged I am to be doing exactly what I am doing right now.
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These are little, seemingly non-consequential, non-important things that have been my biggest struggles so far.  And yet, I think sometimes, when I don’t take time to recognize, make peace with, and reconcile these little things, I miss the bigger things that God is trying to show me.
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The growing pains that I am experiencing through recognizing and examining my privilege are painful by nature.  With hesitancy and excitement, I welcome these pains and offer myself and others grace in the process, realizing the growth that they bring.

​To read more from Taylor, click here

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.” -Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. 
“Who am I but the dust of the Most High; drifting like a leaf in the summer sky; hoping one day you will see; that what’s inside of you is what’s inside of me?” -Trevor Hall
About a week ago, I was walking down Central Avenue and found myself passing many people struggling with homelessness who were hanging out near the bus stops next to this highway. I suddenly became intensely aware of the expensive laptop in my bag and this looming fear of being robbed crept up within me. I then walked faster and farther away from these people, trying to keep my head down, not to make eye contact. While these grim thoughts fought for recognition, I heard this little voice inside of me (I know we are all well aware of this voice), which kept saying “this isn’t right, Beth. Why do you keep running away from your shared humanity? Do you care more about the material things you carry, rather than confronting these egotistical thoughts of assumed hierarchy which separate you from them?” I then slowed my pace, took a deep breath, and witnessed the limiting lenses of my clouded perceptions dissolve into Earth. As I let go of my attachments with the laptop, the true essence of my identity once again became visible through the many faces surrounding me. As Nobel Peace Prize winner, Priest, and Theologian Desmund Tutu explains, “My humanity is bound up in yours, for we can only be human together”. Continuing on my walk with gratitude, I watched as Holy Spirit stood by, offering a genuine smile and wave.
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.

​You can read more from Bethany here.

​Written Monday, Feb. 5, 2017 // Escrito el lunes 5 de feb.

I’ve been searching for the words and motivation and energy to look inward and write something meaningful to share with you. But in reality, throughout this search for motivation, I’ve been feeling rather weak lately.

// He estado buscando las palabras y la motivación y la energía de mirar hacia adentro en mi interior y escribir algo significativo para compartir con ustedes. Pero en realidad, a través de esta búsqueda de motivación, recientemente me sentía bastante débil. \\
This morning (Monday), Pastor Chad via ZOE Church podcast shared some motivation I needed to hear from yesterday’s sermon – “It Could Happen Today”.

// Esta mañana (el lunes), el Pastor Chad de la iglesia ZOE compartió una motivación que necesité escuchar en el sermón de ayer: “Podría pasar hoy”. \\

Well, what happened today? // ¿Pues, que pasó hoy?
Today, was our first community day of the month, which is guided by our supervisor Luke. However unfortunately, I wasn’t able to be very present. I wallowed in frustration and tears of being so tired of feeling sick and not being able to give 100% of my energy to my community and work placement. I returned to the urgent care clinic for the second time in about 2 and half weeks, with a few good and almost-recovered days in between until new symptoms of a likely sinus infection quickly arose over the weekend.

// Hoy fue nuestro primer día de la comunidad del mes, que está guiado de nuestro supervisor Luke. Sin embargo y desafortunadamente, no pude estar muy presente. Me sumía en la frustración y lágrimas de estar tan cansada de sentirme mal y no poder dar el 100% de mi energía a mi comunidad y mi lujar de servicio. Volví a la clínica de atención urgente por la segunda vez en aproximadamente 2 y media semanas, con algunos días buenos y casi recuperada en medio, hasta que los nuevos síntomas de una posible infección sinusal llegó durante el fin de semana. \\

Post-Dr. visit, we all gathered to brainstorm some reflection ideas as us YAV’s have been given the opportunity to speak during the sermon next Sunday at the local Second Presbyterian Church. Upon reading Mark 9:2-9 about the transfiguration on the mountain top, we searched ourselves for our own moments of transformation, either within oneself or something we’ve witnessed outside of ourselves, like within our new communities.

// Después de la visita de la clínica, todas nos juntamos para compartir algunas ideas de reflexión porque nosotras YAV’s tenemos la oportunidad de hablar y presentarnos en el sermón el próximo domingo en la Segunda Iglesia Presbiteriana. Después de leer Marcos 9:2-9, sobre la transfiguración en la cima de la montaña, buscaamos nuestras propias momentos de tranformación, dentro de una misma o algo que hemos presenciado fuera de nosotras mismas, como dentro de nuestras comunidades nuevas. 

My fuzzy and congested-minded self was really struggling to look farther beyond the past month of being back here in Albuquerque, trying to find moments of  transformation year-wide, when I felt lack of transformational-movement in those recurring, but yet spirit-filled (and yet very unfulfilled) resolutions, hopes and goals of this New Year.

// Mi mente borroso y llena de congestión estaba luchando por mirar más allá del último mes de estar aquí en Albuquerque, desde regresé. Estaba tratando de encontrar los momentos de transformación durante todo el año, cuando en realidad yo sentí la falta del movimiento transformacional entre mis resoluciones del Año Nuevo, algunos que están repitiendo, pero aún llenos de espíritu (y aún todavía vacios y no cumplidos) de mis resoluciones, esperanzas y metas del año. \\

The words of Pastor Chad, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. That is true for my life and yours – our spirit wants to do this, but our flesh is lulled to sleep…” (and while being sick, I assure you, I’ve been very lulled to sleep a lot lately…
// Las palabras de Pastor Chad, “El espíritu está dispuesto, pero la carne está débil. Eso es cierto para mi vida y la tuya – nuestro espíritu quiere hacer esto, pero nuestra carne está arrullada para dormir…”  (and durante el tiempo que he estado enferma, te lo aseguro que he sentido el llamado de dormir mucho últimamente… \\

But I’ve been searching myself for motivation and energy, despite this time of waiting and being in an extended delay to recover –
Pastor Chad prompts this question: ‘How to combat the dull of delay, falling asleep, or feeling bored… How to instead be comforted, convicted, lead and guided – and AWAKE on this earth – to not get dulled in the delay?’

// Pero estaba buscando yo misma la motivación y la energía, a pesar de este tiempo de espera y de estar en un retraso prolongado para recuperarme –
El Pastor Chad me lleva esta pregunta: ‘¿Cómo combatir el aburrimiento de la demora, quedarse dormido o sentirse aburrido… ¿cómo ser consolado, convencido, y guiado – y DESPIERTO en esta tierra – para no embotarse en el retraso? \\

Three of Pastor Chad’s seven points caught my attention in how to handle delays:
// Tres de los sieta puntos del Pastor Chad que me llamaron la atención en como aguantar los retrasos: \\
{Rejoice Always // Regocijarse siempre}

This morning in my wallowing, it felt as if I was failing to see the bright-side, the God-sent moments, and the people rejoicing alongside me through their comforting hugs.
Not only do I have plenty of things to rejoice in, I’m especially joyful in the moments of compassion that filled the rest of my day – like the kindness and timeliness of the doctor, the arms of Ann and my fellow housemates, the words from family, and the phone call from my boss and pastor Guillermo, as he reached me to see how I was doing, in perfect timing before I had the opportunity to reach out to him.

// Esta mañana, mientras me sumía en como sentía, lo sentió así que no fuera capaz de ver el lado positivo, los momentos enviado de Dios, y la gente que se regocijó a mi lado a través de sus abrazos reconfortantes.
No solo tengo muchas cosas para alegrarme, sino que estoy especialmente feliz en los momentos de compasión que llenaron el resto del día, como la bondad y la puntualidad del médica, los brazos y abrazos de Ann y mis compañeras de casa, las palabras de mi familia, y la llamada de mi jefe y pastor Guillermo, cuando me llamó para ver cómo yo estaba, en el momento perfecto antes de que tuve la oportunidad de comunicarme con él. \\

{Pray without Ceasing // Orar sin cesar}

This phone call ended with a strong prayer for rest, healing, and recovery, which I felt deeply in my soul, and prayed that my body will decide to listen too! And by evening, I smiled at the seemingly simple text of “Thinking of you and praying for you!” from Ms. Gini, which represented something so much more – I can’t help but feel that sometimes the portion of praying ‘without ceasing’ amidst handling delays, is sometimes best felt and heard when you know without a doubt that others are interceding on your behalf, when sometimes you’re still searching for motivation…

// Esta llamada terminó con una oración fuerte por el descanso, la curación, y la recuperación, que sentí profundamente en mi alma, y oré que mi cuerpo decidirá escuchar también! Y por la noche, sonreí al texto simple que dice “Pensando en ti y orando por ti!” de la Rev. Gini, que representaba mucho más – No puedo evitar sentir que a veces la parte de orar ‘sin cesar’ en medio de aguantar los retrasos, es que a veces se siente y escucha lo mejor cuando sabe sin duda que otros están intercediendo en tu nombre, cuando a veces solo está buscando la motivación… \\

{In everything, Give thanks! You cannot get prepared for the thing God has for you with a complaining spirit… I THANK YOU FOR ‘BEING UNDER CONSTRUCTION! // En todo, da gracias! No puede prepararse para lo que Dios tiene para usted con un espíritu quejoso… DOY GRACIAS POR ‘ESTAR EN CONSTRUCCIÓN!}

I want this point to speak for it’s self… It’s been crappy feeling bad, but I don’t want to do it with a complaining spirit, and I truly am grateful for each person and God-sent along the way!

// Quiero que este punto hable por sí mismo… Ha sido horrible sentirme mal, pero no quiero hacerlo con un espíritu quejoso, and realmente estoy agradecida por cada persona y cosa enviado de Dios en este camino. \\

And I look forward to sharing my own reflection on Mark 9:2-9, after service next week, because while today’s brainstorm session was challenging – I AM CONFIDENT I can see beyond this month and into those moments of transformation I’ve felt during the past half-year of service!
// Estoy emocionada de compartir mi propia reflexión sobre Marcus 9:2-9 y mi experiencia, después del servicio la próxima semana, porque a pesar de hoy fue desafiante – ESTOY SEGURA que puedo ver más allá de este mes y en los momentos de transformación que he sentido durante el último medio año de servicio. \\ 

Prayers appreciated, as always! // Estaré agradecida por las oraciones, como siempre!
Claire

Click here to read more from Claire.

Estamos buscando a… // We’re looking for…

*Title and the two bolded quotes in the intro are credited to Paul Turounet, and his photographic representation of the migrants journey (read more at end of post). We were able to see a large-scale version of his art and installation, while in Tucson, AZ.

I entered the Southside Presbyterian Church, known by many as the birthplace of the Sanctuary Movement (read more about the movement that opposes the deportation of immigrants), to hear from Pastor Alison, which left me with the question,

“How does my faith ask me to take risks?”




// Yo entré en Southside (la Iglesia Presbiteriana), conocido como el lugar de origen o cuna del Movimiento de Santuario (lea más del movimiento que se opone a la deportación de inmigrantes), para escuchar al Pastor Alison, que me dejó la pregunta:

¿Cómo mi fe me pide que tomar riesgo? \\

The next six days of the joint YAV Border Delegation of Albuquerque, Tucson, and Austin sites gathering in the borderlands of Arizona-Mexico were ‘a quest for a greater understanding‘…

1) Of the journey and life of those of migrate here to the United States;

2) Of the systemic flaws and lack of injustice;

3) Of how my call and heart for the Latino community plays a larger role in my vocational discernment.

// Los siguientes seis días de la Delegación de la Frontera de los sitios de YAV de Albuquerque, Tucson, y Austin donde nos reunimos en las tierras fronterizas de Arizona-México fueron “una búsqueda por un mejor entendimiento”…

1) De la jornada y vida de aquellos que emigraron aquí a los Estados Unidos;

2) De los defectos sistémicos y la falta de injusticia;

3) De como mi llamada y corazón para la comunidad latina hace el papel y rol más importante en mi discernimiento vocacional. \\

Realizing that ‘we are all migrants in search of something profound and meaningful to our being‘… I entered with expectations and hopes, accompanied with the fears and questions. I expected to have my eyes and heart opened, and even broken, I hoped to see togetherness and unity of community, despite being in the land of borders, and I feared not knowing where to go after encountering everything I was about to witness and take in.

// A través de darme cuenta de que “todos somos migrantes en la búsqueda por algo profundo y significativo para nuestra ser”… Yo entré con expectativas y esperanzas, acompañado con los miedos y las preguntas. Esperaba tener mis ojos y mi corazón abierto, e incluso roto, tenía la esperanza de verla unión y unidad de una comunidad, a pesar de estar en la tierra de las fronterizas, y temía que no yo sabría a donde ir después de encontrar todo lo que estaba a punto de presenciar. \\

I carried with me the hearts, personal stories and struggles of the people who’ve first-hand experienced the pains and joys of moving to the United States from Mexico, and every wall thereafter that they’ve faced…

The people that I love and care greatly for, like my best friend and her family…

My second family.

// Yo llevaba conmigo los corazones, las historias personales, y las luchas de las personas que han experimentado de primera mano los dolores y las alegrías de mudarse a los Estados Unidos de México, y cada muro que han afrontado en el tiempo después.

Las personas que amo y me importa mucho, como mi mejor amiga y su familia…

Mi segunda familia. \\

“Soy culpable”

We sat quietly in the back of the Tucson Federal Courts to observe Operation Streamline – Please read A Day in the “Assembly Line” Court that Prosecutes 70 Border Crossers in 2 Hours for an appropriate play-by-play of the process.

// Nos sentamos en silencio en la parte de atrás de los Tribunales Federales de Tucson para observar la Operación Streamline.- Adjunto es un articulo que describe el proceso, se llama “Un día en el Tribunal de la “Línea de Ensamble” que procesa a 70 personas que cruzan la frontera en 2 horas”. \\

We witnessed this form of mass sentencing and deportation of young men and women, until nearly 70 passed before the judge, waived the rights, saying “soy culpable”, I sat there trying to comprehend how this is our justice system, when sure, yes, they’re guilty of entering as ‘undocumented’ and guilty of being caught.

But in reality….

‘Son culpables’ // They’re guilty of seeking refuge from their home-countries, guilty of seeking better opportunities, guilty of wanting a better future for themselves and their families, guilty of actually making it successfully across the border and through the desert, guilty of defying the ‘Prevention through Deterrence‘ strategy, which uses the desert as a death weapon and leaves immigrants guilty of surviving.

‘Soy culpable’ // And I’m guilty of having no idea that something like this even existed.

// Fuimos testigos de esta forma de sentencia masiva y deportación de hombres y mujeres jóvenes, hasta que casi 70 pasaron enfrente del juez, retiraron sus derechos, diciendo que “soy culpable”, y yo me senté allí tratando de comprender cómo esta es nuestra sistema de justicia, cuando sí, obvio que son culpables de entrar como ‘indocumentados’ y son culpables de ser atrapados.

Pero en realidad…

Son culpables de buscar refugio de sus países de origen, culpables de buscar mejores oportunidades, culpables de querer un futuro mejor para ellos mismos y sus familias, culpables de haber logrados cuando cruzaron la frontera y atravesaron el desierto, culpables de desafiar la estrategia del gobierno “Prevención a través de la Disuasión”, que utiliza el desierto como arma de muerte y deja a los inmigrantes culpables de sobrevivir.

Y yo soy culpable de no tener ni idea que algo como esto haya existido. \\

Last weekend, the five ABQ YAVs had the opportunity to tell stories at the Presbytery meeting held at Ghost Ranch.  The idea of being willing, confident, and vulnerable enough to share stories is important.  For many, storytelling can be what the church sometimes fails to be: a means of forming deep, meaningful, life-giving relationships.  Stories are simple, but they can have a deep impact.  For me, this story highlights a part of me that has been present for a long time, and a part that continues to affect how I live and process during this YAV year. 

(Bethany, me, Claire, Audrey, and Ana after telling our stories at Ghost Ranch)
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Here is my story of living in a state of tension:



​As I pack my backpack for the day, my host mom, Doña Fátima, reminds me “Las dos fuentes más importantes de la vida son el sol y la solidaridad.”  “The two most important sources of life are the sun and solidarity.”
I ride my bike down a beaten up road in rural Costa Rica.  I pass fields of crops and grazing cows with spectacular mountains towering behind them.  I arrive at a small pulpería, a convenient store, with a pottery workshop in the back.  A man named Shaggy greets me with enthusiasm and immediately begins to teach.  “We gather clay from the mountains and add natural spices to give the paint its color”, he tells me.  He guides my hand as I shape the pot with an olote – an old corn cob harvested from his neighbors’ fields of heirloom corn.  I rode to the town of Guaitíleach morning that week, learning each step in the process of throwing pots.  Learning how a handful of fifth-generation artisans are fighting to keep alive the practices of their ancestors, the Chorotega Indians.  Learning what it looks like to be a people who truly live from the sources of the sun and of solidarity.
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I told this story to Luke (YAV Site Coordinator) and to Drew Henry during my interview with the Albuquerque YAV site in March.  I told this story while sitting in the teachers’ lounge at the high school where I was student teaching.  For the first time in over three months since I returned from my semester abroad, I told this story – Shaggy’s story.
My semester abroad was life-changing in that it forced me to see the world with wider lenses.  Lenses that showed how God is so diverse and yet so the same, lenses that showed how complicit I am in a system that harms the people I now consider family, and lenses that showed me how much I have to learn.  My semester abroad was an abrupt awakening, and yet I came home and immediately re-integrated myself into school-life and buried myself in my work.  I didn’t make time to keep seeing with those wider lenses.
As I think about being a teacher, I often forget that some of the most impactful experiences that I have had as a student were times when there wasn’t a lesson plan, but the times when God opened up space for me to learn in a new way.  It is in this realization where I feel a strong and ever-present tension.
How do I work in a system that values grades and achievement while intentionally making space for God to step in and teach?  How do I encourage students to challenge and grow their worldview and not just their vocabulary or problem solving abilities?  How do I learn and teach while being responsible to society and to God?
After meaningful experiences like the time I spent in Guaitíl, my initial question usually is “What do I do next?”  And when I don’t know what to do – which is pretty often – I am reminded of a piece of advice I was given abroad, “Hay que vivir la lucha con alegría”, “You have to live the fight with happiness.”  Maybe if I lean into these harsh truths and paradoxes with joy – realizing that is a privilege and a gift to struggle and learn – I will be able to more consciously depend on a spirit and on a God who is walking right beside me in the process.  Perhaps my next step is not an action, but rather a state of being.  A state of tension, of confusion, of discomfort, and of trust.

To read more of Taylor's stories, click here.

October 24, 2017*This weekend, we had the opportunity to attend the Presbytery Meeting (of Sante Fe) hosted at the beautiful Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, NM. We were also able to partake in Story Telling, as we told a small story that focused around our discernment into this year of service. Below is the story I shared…*

“But God doesn’t call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn’t come through.” – Francis Chan, author of Crazy Love

I used this quote at the end of my discernment process, in a blog-draft I was writing to detail and capture my reflection and thoughts.

The one about Answering God’s Call, as I asked my dad if this quote sounded to bold to accompany the announcement that I had just accepted my YAV year placement to Los Angeles, California, where I’d be serving the population of people experiencing homelessness.

Yep, Los Angeles. I knew then, that God doesn’t call us to be comfortable, hence why I had intentions to go and serve at Skid Row. But I hadn’t quite experienced what it meant to put myself in situations where I’d be in trouble if God didn’t actually come through.

I wrote this quote before my plans got turned upside-down, before I got the call two weeks after graduation that informed me I would not be going to Los Angeles as a YAV and that I’d need to start the discernment process again.

Two of my spiritual mentors shared words of healing and affirmation throughout that day:
The first was: “Your change of location, does not mean a change of call from God.”
And the second was: “The Lord gives you a vision, the Lord kills the vision, then the Lord gives you the faith for the vision.”
In the moment, each of those were great and profound.

But, it wasn’t until I found myself telling another mentor later that day that “what makes me the most disappointed is all the hope and anticipation I had in going to Los Angeles, that was no longer anything… like I had really envisioned myself there, in that community, serving those people,” and in that very moment in the middle of sharing that, I was mentally picturing the notes that I had written at church the very day before.

“Living with Expectations VS. Living in Expectancy”
Expectations represent the hope and anticipation, which have an end-value, like all those real things I had imagined and was also really hung on up.
When actually living in expectancy, requires an authentic level of surrender and faith in the unknown.

And from that moment on, I had a change of heart that has brought me here to New Mexico and has affected how I’ve answered the countless “Well, what are you expecting now? What are you hoping for?” questions since then.

This experience has allowed me to be present in the journey, filled with peace and trust in the moments of uncertainty, and the ability to recognize the times where one truly needs to embrace the need for surrender…
The importance of learning to be comfortable in it – in the midst of situations, where the average person IS afraid we’d be in trouble if God didn’t come through.

For more stories from Claire's blog, click here