The Other Side of the Same Ocean.

There is something so magical about being in a new place. 

Exploring and discovering new parts of a new city. 

With each step discovering and creating a new side of myself. 

Thailand feels like a dream, 

though I think of it often. 

I've now forgotten the harsh words that were spoken, 

the situations that seemed to have no solution. 

I've left behind the hopelessness of it all and I've stepped into this new season of rest. 

Taking with me only everything that was good and perfect about my Thailand life. 

I miss it every day. 

Some days I smile, fondly thinking back on how silly my sweet Thai friends are.

Other days I lay in my bed sobbing because my heart so longs to be where I am most home. 

But I'm learning to be thankful when I should be angry. 

I'm learning to be okay when I want to hide from everyone. 

I'm learning that this is my life, here and now, 

and that resting is not a waste of time. 

So here I am, standing on the other side of the same ocean 

and I can't help but be thankful for that season, as hard as it was. 

I hated and loved every moment of it. 

But now there is only hope as I look forward into the unknown. 

Now there is only peace as I stand on the west coast of my home country

and become someone new. 

Comatose.

Silence. 

Longing.

Digging in an unmovable pile of rubble, searching for peace. 

Sitting on the hard bamboo, 

I breathe in the thick air of the evening. 

I look around at the vegetation, the life swarming my every side. 

I look at the sky, 

constantly shifting pastel hues melting into the inevitable blackness. 

I know I should move soon because the misquotes are starting to become unbearable, 

but I can't seem to find my composure today. 

Two more minutes, I think to myself. 

Just two more minutes and then you have to go in there. 

I let the tears flow freely, and I sink into my heartbreak, just for a moment…

Then I stand up, wipe my face clear of sorrow, and I force my feet to carry me through the door to sing melodies I'm having trouble believing lately. 

---------------------

I've been asleep. 

It all happened so gradually, 

and before I knew what was happening, my heart gave up. 

When I think back, there are many details that seem so trivial now, 

but in the moment, I genuinely wasn't sure I would make it. 

I cried a lot. 

I drank more wine than I probably should have some days. 

I spent countless hours aimlessly staring into the ocean. 

I prayed and I prayed and I prayed. 

But my heart was in a coma. 

I am in a coma. 

All the words people say, 

all the encouragement and kind sentiments, 

the many times people tell me to just keep fighting, 

they are never heard over the sounds of the respirator, or the heart monitor. 

It's been three months. 

And for the first time, I'm letting myself remember. 

I'm feeling like I'm ready to open my eyes, 

but then I remember how much light hurts after you've stared into black nothingness for so long, 

and I get scared. 

I'm scared and I'm shaky and I am all too aware of how easy it would be to just stay here in the nothingness. 

But how wasteful.

How useless is a life left strapped to a hospital bed. 

Unmoving, barely breathing. 

Silence. 

Nothing but the push and pull of the respirator. 

I don't want to stay here. 

I know everything is changed. 

Nothing will be as I left it. 

Especially my heart. 

I don't remember how to breathe on my own.

But I can already feel the lids over my eyes separating. 

They slowly peel back, 

and there is nothing but white...

Chronicles Of A Broken Heart.

It's 2:22am.

I'm sitting in my car.

I pulled over into an unknown neighbourhood when I couldn't see the road through my tears. 

I don't alway expect it when it comes, 

but tonight, I knew I would eventually disappear into a puddle of salt water. 

I've been driving around for hours, 

counting the white lines on the highway, trying to make sense of the mess I've become. 

Alas, I am no further along than when I started. 

It seems that for now, the answers still elude me. 

All I do know, is that I'm here.

And I've got to let it happen. 

Whatever it is. 

With absolutely every bit of strength, 

I continue to hold to the promise that this too shall pass. 

Whatever this is. 

And that eventually, 

I'll be okay again.

That I won't run at the thought of answering even the simplest of questions. 

That I will one day be able to talk about everything that Thailand was,

the absolutely incredible and the completely awful. 

The joy comes in the morning, right?

When I was in BC, I sat on the end of a dock and watched the sun set

as I played guitar and sang a song with those words. 

They barely made it past my lips as I fumbled around for composure, 

and I realized that it's not much consolation to know the joy comes in the morning

when I am physically, emotionally and spiritually sitting on a dock watching the sun set, 

knowing that this is just the beginning of a long, dark night. 

---------------

It's 3:47pm.

I drove around for a while and somehow ended up here. 

My phone died a while ago, and with it the music I was listening to. 

I've been left with the sound of steady raindrops. 

I watch each one hit my windshield and glide down, 

picking up other droplets of water, and then they descend and roll off my car together. 

A downward zigzag into the unknown. 

How fitting. 

I watch as my tears make their own zigzag pattern down my cheek. 

Some days I push myself too far, not knowing or understanding the new limits of my fragile state. 

I wonder how I'll ever be able to have the conversation I know needs to be had. 

The words won't come. 

And the ones that do feel inadequate. 

As if they are missing the point of what I'm trying to convey. 

The english language is so limited. 

And it frustrates me knowing that I may never be able to find words big enough to encompass everything. 

So I guess I'll just sit here a little longer and feel. 

I'll stay in this sanctuary, this little piece of refuge that is only mine. 

And I'll grasp at straws, wondering if peace will ever find me. 

--------------

It's 3:57am.

I hardly ever sleep anymore. 

I know I have to get up in a mere two hours to go to work, but I'm restless. 

Restless. 

In every sense of the word. 

I'm sitting on my bedroom floor running my hands through the worn carpet. 

I wonder if I'll ever go back to Thailand. 

If I'll ever experience all the things I dreamed of. 

The truth is, I haven't let myself think about Thailand too much. 

I don't want to let myself miss it because I don't think I could handle it right now. 

Leaving Thailand broke my heart.

More than I could ever accurately explain. 

Watching a ministry that I loved, that I fought for, that I would have readily given my life for, completely crumble on top of me and cease to exist, broke my heart. 

And now, wounded and broken, I'm trying to climb through the rubble and make my way into the daylight again. 

---------------

2:34am. 

I'm sitting on my kitchen floor. 

My back is pressed against the fridge. 

For some reason, the steady hum of electricity pulsing through it calms my anxious thoughts. 

Feeling it's rhythm of cooling, the hum and sigh, makes me feel like there's some order in my life, 

even if it is just a stupid fridge doing it's job. 

I don't know where I am tonight. 

I don't feel like myself. 

I feel like I'm laying in the middle of a desert, withered and dry, 

just waiting, hoping, praying, pleading for the rain. 

The torrential downpour that will flood around me and rehydrate my parched skin and wilted heart. 

There have been moments. 

Little droplets of hope. 

But it's not enough. 

I need to drown in the ocean that I know is coming. 

Some days I feel like I am nothing more than a pile of dry bones. 

In the end of that story, God puts everyone back together and breathes new life into them. 

I believe the bible is truth. 

So my breath of fresh air, so to speak, must be on it's way. 

But until then, 

I'll just sit here, breathing in and out, in and out, feeling the heartbeat of fridge behind me,

and hope that I'll make it through tomorrow. 

Just one day, one hour, one moment at a time. 

And slowly, little by little,

maybe I'll start to come back to life.  

Inhale.

It's cool out this evening. 

Then again, even the hottest day here would feel cool in comparison to the sticky, unrelenting heat of Phuket. 

As much as I hate being cold, it's nice to be able to wear a sweater. 

The sun is setting. 

The most beautiful mountains stand guard in every direction I look. 

I've traveled the world, and in my opinion, there are few mountains that come close to the exquisite beauty of the Canadian Rockies. 

The air feels clean. Dry. Fresh. 

I feel like for the first time in months I can actually allow my lungs to expand past the bones that cage them. 

My heart feels battered. My soul, withered. I am broken in almost every capacity. 

Yet, in this moment, I am content. 

Right here in this moment, there's nothing but the sunset, the mountains, and my broken heart. 

Inhale. Exhale. 

I think I'll stay here for a while longer... 

The Ultimatum.

I apologize for how completely distant I've been since moving to Thailand.

I have been hesitant to share the profound work the Lord has been doing in my heart because it has indeed been painful. 

And in the moments when I was eager to share, it seemed the words would not come. 

But with the changing of the tides, so comes a new season for me. 

And though I may not feel ready, the time to share is now. 

SHE Ministries has been going through a massive transition since before I arrived here in January. 

The leaders of this ministry are in burnout, and for the last 5 months have been taking a sabbatical.

That left the ministry in the hands of us four staff members and we have been struggling with upholding everything. 

I have been on a teeter totter between being okay and being very not okay for the last 5 months, 

with many contributing factors. 

But as I struggled to figure out whether my emotions were valid, 

or if it was nothing more than the constantly changing spiritual climate, 

the more I started to figure out that I have a lot of hurt, 

and that a lot of healing needs to be done in my heart. 

I have been incredibly blessed with an amazing community of 3 three beautiful women that love me so well, 

but at the end of the day,

 we don't have leaders to pour into us, 

and that has made the last 5 months incredibly difficult for all of us. 

Everything came to a head last week, 

and due to certain circumstances, I was faced with an ultimatum. 

I had the choice to stay here and flounder under the weight of something I was never meant to hold. 

I could leave SHE ministries and go somewhere else in Thailand.

Or I could go home. 

And through much prayer, 

counsel from people I love and trust, 

and the support of my 3 favourites,  

I have made the incredibly difficult decision to come home. 

I feel beat up, and broken, and I've got to take a step back and pray into what God is saying 

and where He is leading me from here. 

I don't have any money left, 

and with no financial supporters, I physically could not stay here anyway.  

I know there are many questions and many things I wish to explain, 

but I am currently unable to do so. 

And I ask for grace as I take the time I need to figure out what God has been teaching me in this season, and where to go from here. 

With everything aside, 

I do not regret this season. 

I've seen so much good in all of the hurt, 

and I trust that God knows exactly what He's doing. 

I am not leaving Thailand until June, so as I prepare to leave please be praying for me. 

Pray that I can finish strong at SHE and that God's will will be done. 

100 Days. 100%.

Yesterday marked 100 days since moving to Thailand. 

It's crazy to think that time has gone that fast. 

Some days it feels like I've been here forever, 

and others it feels as though I only just stepped off the tarmac. 

The last 100 days have been filled with more beauty than my heart can often comprehend. 

I have seen team after team come through SHE and be moved by what God is doing on Bangla. 

I've seen young men and women speak truth over ladyboys and pray healing over someone on crutches. Because of their boldness, we saw both walk away healed. 

I've stood by and prayed as a young prostitute cried into the arms of a girl the same age as her. 

I've walked down a soi that was untouchable two years ago. 

I've hugged and laughed with more bar girls than I can count. 

I've done so many things and seen God show up in so many ways… 

And as I reflect on my time in Thailand so far, 

I am in awe of the fact that I get to be here, where my heart is so alive. 

Jesus loves me so well. 

Thailand truly is home for me. 

I forget sometimes how many times I cried to the Lord, 

how many times over the last two years I prayed, asked, begged to be right where I am. 

How many nights did I lay in my bed dreaming of walking Bangla, my heart longing to be here? 

Too many to count. 

However, 

I can't stay here. 

Not without help at least. 

I currently have no one financially supporting me,

which means that I've been using my savings to live my life here in Thailand. 

I bought a moto, which was expensive, but has honestly been a huge blessing, and essential to my life here as it allows me to be mobile. 

And it will actually be cheaper in the long run given that taxis/transportation is what most of my money was going to. 

I am also currently taking Thai classes so that I can better my ministry in Patong, 

but I won't be able to take them next month without financial help.

But I know God is faithful. 

I know God is my provider. 

And as I look at the number in my bank account getting smaller and smaller, 

knowing that I don't have a single financial supporter, 

I am challenged to trust that God can provide for me 100%.

I am still human,

I still get scared some days, not knowing if I'll be able to pay rent next month.

But in the end, I have to come to a place of rest knowing that if God feeds the sparrows, 

He will surely feed one whom He dearly loves. 

And with that, 

my heart is at peace knowing that I am right where I am meant to be, 

even when things don't line up, 

even when I feel like I don't know what God is doing, 

even when I don't know where the money is going to come from. 

Cheers to the next 100 days. 

And the 100 after that. 

Cheers to God being provider, and a God of 100%. 

If you wish to financially support me and the incredible things God is doing in the red-light district of Patong, click the donate button to the right OR click the support tab at the top of the page for more info. 

A Moto Accident: Because Sometimes You Need To Be Thrown Off A Moving Vehicle To Remember How Much God Loves You.

Two nights ago, Ashley and I went on our weekly date to the mall to enjoy 

good food, some AC and each other's company. 

All was normal as we hopped on her motorbike to head home at around 8:30pm. 

We frequently talk about how dangerous the roads are here because people are just careless when it comes to driving, and when you are on a moto, well… there's just no protection at all.

The first time I ever rode with Ash, we watched a teenager fall off the back of a moto

that was not going very fast, but he was still badly hurt. 

Heck, I've even seen people just fall over on their motos and be injured. 

There are just so many risks when it comes to driving here. 

As we neared the bridge that would take us over the thin stretch of water 

that divides Phuket from Koh Sirey, I felt an urgency to pray. 

Now, I just want to preface this with the fact that I trust Ashley's driving capabilities completely. 

I wasn't feeling afraid of the way she was driving, nor was I fearful about what could potentially happen. 

I just knew I needed to pray, so I did.

I just kept repeating the words,

"Jesus, keep us safe. Get us home safe. Keep us and the bike safe."

I felt the rush of wind against my face on the open stretch of road, and repeated my prayer. 

I was in the middle of repeating it a third time when I heard Ashley yell, and felt her pull on the brake harder than usual. 

It all happened so fast. 

In a matter of seconds, our bodies were on the pavement on the opposite side of the road,

scraping against the rough tar underneath the momentum of the bike that was now on top of us.

Ashley stood up first, and it was then that I realized I couldn't move my right leg 

as it was trapped under the exhaust pipe, which should have been scorching hot considering we had just been driving for half hour. 

The man who was driving the car that unexpectedly pulled out in front of us without looking 

came running over, and he was the one who lifted the bike off of me. 

When I stood up, I immediately reached for my forearm expecting to find blood, 

but instead found only pebbles from the road imprinted into my skin.

I looked at Ashley completely dumbfounded at what had just happened and asked if she was okay. 

The man kept saying "so sorry! so sorry!" 

and in my shocked state, all I could do was look at him and shake my head. 

He started the bike again to make sure it was still working and then he adjusted the mirror, 

the only thing that was out of place on the entire bike. 

He kept apologizing profusely and Ashley told him in Thai to drive slowly and that this was not good. 

He apologized again before he got in his car and sped away. 

Ashley and I asked each other about ten more times if we were okay and then hopped back on the bike. 

During the two minute drive home from the site of the accident, 

I couldn't stop marvelling at the fact that we were almost completely unharmed. 

It doesn't make any sense. 

We should have been seriously injured. 

I remember feeling my arm scrape against pavement, yet there is only a bruise and a few scratches to show for it. 

Not to mention the fact that we were laying on the opposite side of the road and there was absolutely NO TRAFFIC coming, which is completely unheard of here. 

It's nothing short of a miracle.

There is no doubt in my mind that Jesus kept us alive. 

And as I laid in my bed praising Him for the fact that I was alive and could feel pain in my bruised elbow, God began to speak to me about where my heart has been the past couple months.

He reminded me of all the promises He spoke to me.

He reminded me that my heart for Thailand is His heart for Thailand.

He reminded me that I am loved, and that I am heard, and that

He is deeply honoured when I choose to worship Him in the midst of all the chaos and the unknown. 

And I guess when you're so caught up in what's going on and aren't listening, 

Jesus will throw you off a motorbike to remind you of how much He really does love you. 

Hot Mess.

I've tried to post this blog about ten times, 

and it seems that the wifi disagrees with my desire to share my heart with the world. 

Perhaps it's a blessing in disguise, seeing as it's given me the opportunity to re-evaluate where my heart is actually at. 

The last two months (sorry!) have been difficult to say the very least.

But they have also been filled with more beauty than my heart can often handle. 

I've learned a lot about where I'm really at with God and that I'm in a season of healing. 

 I've learned that I have some of the most amazing people living with me/putting up with me every day. 

I've learned that sometimes things are really hard, and that's okay.

In an effort to be vulnerable, I want to share where I've been, 

but sometimes it seems I'll never truly find words that could 

ever be big enough to encompass everything that my heart

has been sifting through the last couple of months. 

My incredible friend Ashley has written about the most recent development in our 

situation and sometimes borrowed words are better. 

To read what she has written, click here. 

And as for me personally,

I feel like I have been nothing short of a hot mess. 

I don't know how to accurately describe the heartbreak I witness and experience every night I am in Patong. I don't know how to tell everyone what's been going on in my heart without sounding like I've been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. 

But I said I would be vulnerable… 

So here I go I guess. 

Thailand is amazing. 

The love I have for this place is unparalleled. 

I feel more at home than I have in a very long time. 

That being said, 

Thailand is also very hard. 

The spiritual atmosphere is constantly changing, 

making it hard to figure out if I'm being attacked, or if I really am just going crazy.

The highs and lows are constantly changing, 

sometimes showing up in equal parts during one night of ministry. 

I haven't been sleeping very well because of the shifting atmosphere, 

making it damn near impossible for me to have any pain tolerance to deal with the migraines that have plagued me for as long as I can remember. 

My body is not okay.

My heart is not okay. 

My spirit is not okay. 

And I guess I've just come to place where I am literally at the end of myself. 

As a fellow writer and someone I greatly look up to so eloquently put it, 

"I stand up, only to collapse in on myself again, praying to hold together long enough to make it through the days."

I feel like lately I've been holding onto literally the last bit of faith within me. 

I keep saying "I trust God, I trust God, I trust God." 

Even if at this point, it's more to convince myself than anything else. 

I have to trust Him, because I've got literally nothing left. 

Right now, the thought of putting that on the internet and telling the whole world that I'm just not okay

is scary for me because I'm a missionary. I'm "supposed" to have everything figured out, right?

Well, I've decided I'm throwing out those words. 

No longer is "supposed to" going to be a part of my vocabulary. 

So I guess I am a hot mess. 

And I guess that's okay. 

Even if I feel as though I am sometimes burdening others with my mess. 

But as my amazing, wise, and beautiful friend told me, 

I need to just offer up what I have to Jesus. 

And what I have right now is frustration and brokenness and hopelessness.

But Jesus is in the business of redemption.

Thank goodness for that.  

Even now, here's my heart, God. 

My Whole Heart

I've been wandering around a road map of emotions and thoughts for weeks,

 trying to figure out how to put what I feel into words.

I'm finding myself increasingly frustrated with my blatant inability to accurately express my heart, 

but I haven't written in over a month, so the time is now. 

I once heard someone say that writing is more than inspiration. 

It's sitting yourself down and forcing yourself to "go there", whether it comes out polished or not. 

So that's where I'm at. 

I have amazing stories of this past month, but somehow I can't figure out how to tell them. 

I want my words to move people. 

I want my photos to impact people's lives. 

I want the songs I write to change people. 

And to do that I need to be vulnerable. 

The words "my whole heart" have been floating around my brain since I arrived in Thailand and I had no idea what that meant. 

I kept praying into it, trying to figure out what God was trying to say. 

I realized a couple days ago that I really want to give my whole heart to something. 

I want to pour myself out completely until there is nothing left. 

I want to write songs that come straight from my journal without inhibition. 

I want to tell the stories of how Jesus rescued me from a sordid past, and how much hope I have because of the redemption He's given me, that He will do the same for every person who steps onto Bangla Road. 

I want to be real.

I want to be raw, and messy and real.

Because I think that all of us appreciate that much more than something that is completely polished anyway. 

But I'm afraid.

 And I don't want to be anymore. 

I don't want fear to hold me back from going deep into my creative well. 

I don't want fear to be the reason I never share that song, or that piece of my heart. 

But this is my declaration that from now on, 

I am going to "go there". 

I am going to bleed vulnerability if I have to. 

Because that may be the very thing that will give me the freedom that I need. 

So I want to apologize for not writing for so long, 

and to ask for grace as I try to figure this thing out and what it practically looks like. 

Requiem.

Requiem. 

Requiem for my expectations.

Requiem for my brokenness.

A sweet, lamenting brought on by the onset of life abundant.

A Requiem for my fears, for my lies.

For the disease that pours out of my pores.

For the loneliness that leaks from inside.

A Requiem for the shallowness of my sallow soul.  

Wide awake.

My juxtaposed heart changes with the rolling tide. 

The waves swallowing my self-doubt. 

Drowning the angry attempts at fighting the process

Breathing in. Breathing out. 

Hope through osmosis. 

I am in a strange place. 

A familiar place.

An unexpected oasis of calm waters and a balm for my aching spirit.

A rapturous melody. 

An irresistible constant. 

An incandescent Promised Land. 

Impossible to encapsulate.

Impossible to understand.

Life to my dying self. 

And if I blink, I might just miss it.

--------------------------------------

My heart can't find the words, and yet they've never seemed so loud.

When I break through the ever increasing tension of my spirit and my flesh, I find myself in an ocean of hope. 

A beautiful calm; an intoxicating place of rest. 

A place where my lungs can fully expand, beyond the bones that cage them. 

Sometimes the only thing that can be said is nothing at all. 

But what good would that do?

My heart is full and alive and irrevocably moved. 

And if even for just a moment, 

I'd like to keep it completely mine. 

Awake and Alive.

The truck chugged up Patong hill, wrestling gravity but coming out the victor.
We zoomed left and the right, then left again.
All around me, voices of those I've only just met rise in worship.

"Nothing can separate, even if I ran away.
Your love never fails."

I close my eyes and breathe in this moment.
The humid air beats across my face and I can't help but feel a little more alive every second.

The last time I was on Bangla Road, I wept.
I had found darkness thicker than anywhere in the world.
I had found the epitome of hell in the physical.
But I also found that in the darkest place I knew,
Jesus' heart met mine.

I walked slowly, taking it all in.
It's easy to get caught up in the music, the lights, the noise, the people.
But when you stand still, and you look into a woman's eyes, it's impossible to miss the devastation this place brings.
I'm shocked to find how much has changed.
I didn't think it was possible for this place to become any more like hell.
I was wrong.

One of the girls in my group stops to talk to her friend,
and I take the opportunity to watch a gorgeous Russian girl twirl aimlessly in her glass cage.
I watch two men give into the beckoning of the promoters and head into the club beneath the twirling girl.
I watch a family walk by, the children unaware of what their parents are blindly leading them into.
I watch a child selling flowers, desperate to go home but unable to do so until all her flowers are gone.
I watch as two women perform acrobatics on a pole.
Lyrics which came from my heart one year and nine months ago float through my head once again.

It's easy to see darkness while on Bangla.
But hidden behind all of the darkness is so much beauty.

The smile of the club promoter.
The genuine laugh of a bar girl.
The excitement and the hugs from friends we meet.

There is something about being on Bangla that wakes my heart.
And for the first time in months, I feel as though I am right where I was always meant to be.

I am still in need of $2,500 to be fully funded for the year. Please prayerfully consider donating by clicking the donate button on the right. 

One Year, Nine Months.

*Names changed for the protection of the women.

March 22, 2012

Product development today. Kelly and I cleaned off all the books in the library. 

We had dinner, worship and then headed to Patong. 

Karaline, Kelly and I went into New Tiger and I met a girl named *Bam.

Cutest girl ever! We walked around until 11:30ish, then headed home. 

I. love. this. ministry. 

March 27, 2012

Tonight in the bars, I watched as someone bought *Bam for the night. 

Words cannot describe the heartbreak of seeing your friend being sold. 

I got really overwhelmed as we walked the rest of Bangla and I couldn't look at anything without crying.

But then I met a woman named *Pearl. 

I am absolutely in love with this woman.

She showed me pictures of her son on her phone with both pride and sadness. 

She told me she doesn't want to be in the bars anymore. 

Jesus, give me the strength to help her get out of this hell. 

March 28, 2012

I went with Alyssa on a date today with *Annie and *Nan.

We walked to the beach and then Annie bought us all ice cream. 

Annie didn't have shoes, so I let her wear mine, and then I bought her some on the way home. 

There were tears in her eyes as I handed them to her. 

She couldn't believe I was buying her shoes.

I'm thankful I got to bless her like that. 

April 2, 2012

Woke up and had team time. Kristen and I were supposed to have a  date with *Bam, 

but she never showed =(.

I led worship and then headed out.

Bangla was hard tonight. I was literally sitting on the street crying. 

Can't believe we only have a week left here. 

I am not ready to leave. 

April 9, 2012

Travel day. We spent the morning just hanging out, packing and saying our goodbyes. 

The Passport girls made us breakfast and wrote us really sweet notes. 

We cleaned, prayed, and headed to the bus. 

I'm going to miss this place more than I know how to say. 

January 9, 2014

Exactly one year and nine months to the day. 

I woke up this morning and breathed in the sweet humid air. 

My heart is bursting with joy. 

I am home.

Finally. 

Ready, Set...

The countdown is on. 

T-minus 8 hours and 21 minutes until take off. 

And I still am surrounded by a ton of my belongings that need to find themselves into a suitcase. 

At church last night, 

there was a corporate word given.

They said that they felt as though this past season was one of sowing, 

and that this next season is one of reaping. 

That statement couldn't be more true. 

My heart is fluttery every time I think about getting on a plane TOMORROW. 

How on earth did I get myself here?

For so long it seemed like Thailand was only a dream,

something that would always be just out of my reach. 

And yet here I am. 

On my way out the door. 

I can hardly believe it. 

Please keep me in your prayers. 

Travel mercies, favour with customs, no lost luggage (in Jesus' name!). 

Also pray for my heart. 

This is a huge step in my life and I am excited and nervous and sad and ecstatic all at once. 

Pray for my family, new and old. 

And most of all, pray for my new home.

Jesus said that the harvest is plenty. 

And I am ready to do the work. 

I'm ready to reap all that I have sown. 

I am still in need of $2,500 to be fully funded for the year. Please prayerfully consider donating to help women out of the sex trade.