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It's a comfortable smile
And faded blue jeans
A walk to nowhere
Serenaded by the chirping of crickets

It's risking being caught
For the best view of the stars
And knowing whatever happens
Will be an adventure

It's nobody else for miles around
And my feet out the window
Of a beat up Chevy truck
Driving just to escape the world

It's closing my eyes
And seeing
If only for an instant
The dirt road to the creek
Wheat fields
The smell of Alfalfa
Bill bailing our hay

It's pillow fights
And laughing until I collapse
Gaining breath to begin all over again

It's an unexpected kiss in the moonlight
And wondering where it might lead
Feeling strong arms
Refusing to think any further than right now

It's a trip to ice cream alley
After a day at the lake
And rambling in the mountains
Because we've nothing better to do

It's about those moments
When I don't have to long for freedom
Because I'm living it

Seasons of Life

"It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power."

- Alan Cohen

The world was meant for change, and with it growth. Seasons come and go - dispensing with the old life and creating new, budding life. With every season there is beauty: snow glittering in the full moon, the smell of summer on your skin, the enticing mystery of fall, and the new intoxication of spring.

Life is this way as well. The seasons of life, however short or long, have beauty within themselves, though they at many times do not feel beautiful. I am only in the first season of my life, when I look at the long run. 23 years is not a long time to roam this earth. There are many lessons I have left to learn, but this is the season of learning.

The college season is the time we set out on our own. We discover ourselves, how strong we can be and how weak we really are. We discover our true loves and our true hates. We discover the people we are supposed to be.

The season of love - new love - is much like spring. It is intoxicating. Consuming the entirety of our lives. Every moment is spent with that person. Every moment away is like a century. Everything he says is romantic, funny, or sweet. There are deep conversations that last long into the midnight - and the masks are taken away from our faces as we endeavor to reveal our true selves to this special person.

The season of breakup is equally full of feeling. The kind of feeling you wish didn't exist. Change. Fear. You take back up the mask - simply for survival's sake and continue on with a false stregnth. You see him - he's picked up the mask as well and you both see through the facades, though neither of you wishes to point out the falsity of the encounter.

Time moves on. Hurts vanish. Love fades. And you become stronger for them.

Society is Brainwashed

George Bernard Shaw wrote:

People will stand anything as soon as they are matured enough and cultivated enough to be suscepitable to the appeal of the particular form of art.

Shaw was speaking about theater, which in his day and age was changing rapidly from the traditional well made play to the more serious problem play. However, I wish to direct my thoughts toward society. Society shapes our perceptions of life. It shapes our expectations of life. It taints everything we see with either rose or black or clear. And just as Shaw states, as soon as people are matured enough (or brainwashed enough) they will stand anything.

You see a man walking down the street. He is dressed in rags, pushing a grocery cart with a towel wrapped around his head like a turbine. He mutters to himself and beggs change from you as you walk out of the gas station. You see a threat. A man who is different from you, probably wanting money for booze. Society has taught you that.

If you have ever been homeless or been friends with the homeless, however, you know that this man is simply in need of love. You can look past society's tint and see the reality of his need. Then and only then can you meet his need and be love to him.

Society tells us so many things about right and wrong, dirty and clean, acceptable and unacceptable, success and failure.

A professor recently asked us, "if marajuana were legal in the United States, would you use it?" It got me thinking - What makes it wrong? We use caffine to alter our states of mind. Or anything for that matter... how much do we let society dictate our thoughts and opinions about things?

Perhaps George Bernard Shaw's statement could be altered in this way to describe society:

People will stand for anything as soon as they are informed with enough propoganda, persuaded long enough and finally brainwashed enough to accept a certain point of view.

When Pigs Fly..or at least their Livers

Pigs and their kin have been worshiped, despised, and otherwise referred to throughout human history. Some societies have set them upon a high and decorated pedistol, while others preferred to hurl them deep within the bowels of the earth to keep their master company.

The Jews regarded them as unclean and were forbidden to eath them. The Celts had a god of swine dubbed Moccus, who in Roman mytholigy was entitled Mercury. In Germany, they were known as good luck charms. In England, they were said to be the bringers of bad luck.

Odysseus' crew was turned into pigs in The Oddesy. Soviet leaders are represented as pigs in Animail Farm. Pigs were used as symbols of the dark side of human nature in Saw and it's following sequels.

"When Pigs Fly"
"You can put lipstick on a pig, but it is still a pig."
"Sweating like a pig"
"In a pig's eye."
Economical sausage-makers were said to use "everything but the squeal."

Presently, many people make their living from pigs. Pigs are kept as pets, sold for meat, and taken to the fair. And you may be asking yourself about now: Why this random dialogue on pigs? The answer, my friends, is that I picked up fresh pig livers from the butcher yesterday for my mom to make liversausage. The butcher cut them out of the pig, put them in a bag and then we took them to the house to soak in our sink for several hours. I do not envy the nose that must smell that stench.

Mombasa Adventures

Taken From Kenyan Journal: Days in Mombasa

For the last week we have been in Mombassa, ministering to people through Ushindi Baptist Church, the biggest church in Kenya. It was nothing like life in Limuru. Mombassa seems, to me, to be darker and far less receptive to the gospel. There is also a very large Muslim pressence in Mombassa, and because of that we all felt much more hostility from the Kenyan people.

The media team swelled from three of us to 11, as many of the Kenyans from the church wished to join in our efforts to make a documentary. It was a huge challenge for me to find enough work for 11 people when we only have 2 video cameras and 3 photo-cameras. We spread out the cameras as much as possible - and it turned out better than I expected.

We've gotten very far in our mission to document this country. It's fantastic.I was able to interview an old Maasi man, which is a tribe that still lives in the old traditional way. That was a lot of fun and very interesting. They are cattle herders and nomads. They build their homes in little domes and cover them in cow manure. He told me how he had killed 4 lions and 1 cheetah in his lifetime, which were trying to kill his cattle.

Spiratually, things exploded when we got to Mombassa. Throughout the week, we held outreaches in the streets....literally. There were sounds systems set up in the middle of the street and we had worships services out there. Many, many came to Christ through the outreaches, the medical teams, and the evangelism teams. Also there were demons cast out of two people. I didn't personally experiance that, but several of our other team members did. Nearing the end of the week, the Muslim extremists in the city took over our outreach location and began to preach against us specifically - telling the city that they must disturb the outreaches so that the word of God could not go out into the community.

The last night there were two Muslim Death Marches through the streets. Dr Shaw explained that Death marches are when the Muslim extremeists beat drums and blow trumpets and make noise as they go through the streets to someone's house. At the house they call up the spirits of the dead and ask them to talk with Satan to give them power to face the small things of life - sickness, poverty things like that. Mirracilously, Dr Shaw's sermon landed in between the two death marches.There are so many other stories about God's fantastic work in Mombassa, too many to mention. Today we traveled 11 hours on a bus back to Limuru and Brackenhurst. It's great to be back here - especially since we emptied ourselves so much in Mombassa. I am looking foreward to what God will do in the next week.

Photos: Top is a Kenyan man who wants to be a member of CNN. Middle is a picture of the Mombasa Tusks - symbols of the slave trade history of Mombasa. Bottom is me videoing Dr Shaw, our leader, speaking to some Kenyans after the service

Early Days in Eastern Africa

Taken from Kenyan Journal Day 2 On the Job:


Insaine is an understatement when talking about the pace of life here in Kenya. I have found time to sleep, though it has taken me a while to adjust to the 8 hour time difference. I tend to wake up at odd hours throughout the night and get tired in the afternoon.


The first day on the job, I documented the medical camp which was held at Imani Baptist Church in an area called Karanji. It was fantastic and overwhelming. We served 241 people and had to turn away another hundred or so. The next day they were expecting 500 people. I met so many people and experianced their genuineness and kindness. One woman, Anne, told me over and over how blessed they were to have us there. We talked for about fifteen minutes and then she had to leave. She hugged me and then said, "You are my daughter." It made me cry, they are so welcoming.

Another girl I met is named Lucy, she's 22 and very much fun. we spent time together a lot that first day.

I was proposed to by a Kenyan man for his son as well that day. It was very strange. He talked to me for a long time and then told me to come to his house to meet his engineer son so that we could get married. He said, "You should marry an african." I skirted the question and ran away as soon as I could.


Today I followed the orphan group, who did VBS type things at a place called Gashie, which is the nearest slum. The kids were adorable and absolutely loved the skits and things. Once again, I got more footage than I will ever use. It's been a great adventure so far. I am so blessed to be able to experiance this. Several have already been saved through our being here. God is moving and working in Kenya.



Photos: Top is two people on the team working with the orphan children. Left is a child sitting in front of the bathrooms. These are the normal bathrooms in Kenya - squatty pottys, which are simply a hole in the ground.

Return To Idaho And the Blueberry Village

Airports and airplanes have become no thing of consequence to me. Like an old hat, it has simply become second nature to check in, go through security, wait for hours in the airport, and then finally get on the plane - and then do it all over again several times during the day until I reach my destination. This last venture, however, was unique as it took me back to a place I love and have missed through the last few months of adventures: home sweet home.

As I walked up the familiar stairs in my home and surveyed the familiar landscape of mountains, alfalfa fields, barns and that beautiful blue sky, I found a note just waiting for me.

You are Cordially invited to the Blueberry Village

RSVP ASAP

What is this Blueberry Village? I soon found out it is an enchanting place created by my sister down by the creek. It has a fire ring with overturned 5 gallon buckets to sit on and a guitar to play. It is situated right on the water's edge and one can hear the wind whistling through the trees and the creek laughing along it's way.

When we were younger, we used to spend hours there, but as we've grown up so has this spot by the creek - grown over with bushes and tall grass. My sister had spent the last month reclaiming this area and named it the Blueberry Village.

Now we are back to spending hours upon hours improving the Blueberry Village, singing in the Blueberry Village and letting our imaginations expand and roam freely down by the creek.

Tico Times

Close your eyes. For just a moment, focus everything on your sense of smell.

Pineapple. Flowers. Sea.

The sound of sand squeaking as you walk down the path to the beach, and the Halloween Crabs scuttling by the dozens through the dead leaves that litter the ground on either side. The clouds threaten from a distance - more of a promise, really - to pour their contents out, but they are far away. There is plenty of time to challenge the waves before the torrents of rain chase you from the sea.

Welcome to my paradise - Nossara, Costa Rica, where I spent the month of May studying Spanish.

It was my first venture out of the country, through customs, passport control, and all the other devices governments have set up to keep themselves safe and to annoy tourists. Personally, I believe that the goal is more of the latter.

The country is beautiful, though, and completely worth the annoyance of international travel. The people are so friendly and open - welcoming us with smiles. Being blond was a bit if an experiance, for I had many Costa Ricans (Ticos, as they call themselves) shouting, "Te Amo!!" from down the street and believe that the bartender at the local bar and grill was firmly in love with me - or at least my golden locks.

Having Spanish class in the Tican sun was another fantastic experiance. We learned a lot, when we weren't interrupted by iguanas, which tended to sun themselves on the metal roof and then fall off - causing a horrific scratching noise and then a swoosh - or maybe a crash - as they fell into the bushes. Then the boys would jump off their stools and go flying through the Costa Rican jungle, Lord of the Flies style, and get themselves an iguana to eat at dinner time. I have to admit, though, iguana tastes wonderful. I like it better than chicken.

It was a life of mango juice, iguana meat, rice and beans, hammocks, ocean waves, sand, sun, and beautiful rainstorms. And I must admit, there isn't anywhere else I've been that has mango juice as fantastic as Tican mango juice.

Pura Vida!!

Realization of a Dream Unknown

To see the sun rise on three different countries in three different months has never been a goal of mine. I suppose I have never even contemplated the real possibility. To me, that was - at best - the whisper of a dream, manifesting itself like a morning mist and then vanishing with the sunshine of reality.

And yet, this whisper of a dream became my reality this summer.

May: Costa Rica
June: Texas, United States
July: Kenya, Africa

Until May 11, 2009 I had set foot out of the United States once. That was to Tiajuana, Mexico - a border city resting between Mexico and California. At 9 years old, Tiajuana was terrifying. I was relieved to find that world travel can be fun - and at most times, intoxicating. I may have found a new and thrilling hobby.

Return of the Writer

Eight months. That's a long time to be away from a blog. And now, sitting here watching Shark Week on Discovery Channel, I am suddenly inspired to pick up my 'long-lost' hobby and grace you all with my presence once more, feeling somewhat compunctious for my abandonment.

And so with that - my friends - I have returned, with dozens of new stories to share with you - new experiances to bring to the table - a brand new layout, just for the heck of it - and perhaps, new photos to bestow.

Thanks, Shark....