Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from 2016

brokenness aside

My writing always has been unapologetic, transparent, and explicitly honest. I don't believe in writing for people, I write for me. I write what I feel right there and then, I don't plan to write, I write to make sense of what's in my personal jungle of a brain. 

So here. 

Worthless. A word I've been believing for far too long. I need a new perspective. Sometimes we may feel stuck, wrapped up in our own little bundle of emotions and we hold our brokenness in the palms of our hands and we just sit there without a clue of how to deal. The longer we sit and hold those pieces, the more we allow them to define who we are. With all that I am, with boldness and confidence believe that, I am not meant to hold those pieces, I am not made to believe that my mistakes are who I am, I am not. I will not. 

I am meant to know who I am, and the only way I can do that is to meet Jesus at the cross. The only way I can loosen the grip I have on my shattered heart is if He meets me there. Th…

addict with a pen

When people are determined to change their ways, it is required to know what exactly they are to change. We can't change upon someones request, or to please someones expectations..we must decide to it for ourselves. People can lead us to the well, but they can't make us drink. 

In my short life on this earth, if I have learned anything, which isn't all that much, is that in order to change our ways, it takes hard work. It takes a person to be honest with themselves, it is easy to lie to others about how we're "fine" but deep down we know that we hold on to some dark secrets that are stumbling blocks for change. 

Sadly, upon returning from my trip, God showed me what I could be while I was there, and then He brought me back and showed me how far away I'm from that in this reality. 

Every day, has been a battle. 

He has been chipping away at my character, destroying the mold I created. I picture a potters hand, creating a beautiful vase, and then I envision the…

the most probable explanation

Eighteen days... 
It's been that long since my feet were walking on the red dirt of Uganda, since my ears heard their songs of praise, and since my eyes seen redemption. 
I haven't been able to put into words of what it feels like being back, and what I still see when I close my eyes, or what I hear right before I fall asleep. 
I still see the boy bleeding profusely as his mother comforted him, I hear the voices of the kids singing in their language, I see babies sitting on the ground with their naked bottoms. I close my eyes, and the mothers faces flash before my eyes, their helpless eyes, their dry hands struggling to provide for their families. My ears hear babies crying in the hospital from heat and confusion, I feel the taps on my shoulder from desperate hands of mothers. I still see Uganda. 
For a writer, we feel things on a different level, and we must write about it to make sense of things, what terrified me the most was that I couldn't even write. Why? 
I prayed. 
This …

I come. I enter.

I can't unsee the seen, and unhear what I heard. 

Upon hearing that we will be doing a hospital visit, I was undecided whether I wanted to go or not. I didn't know if my heart could handle it. I battled myself, and then my best friend told me, I'd regret not going. 
I prayed and prayed. I woke up this morning and decided to go. 
I was told to hold my emotions in, for it is of no help for mothers to see me more upset then them. It doesn't comfort them in any way. I prayed for strength. 
I walked into the waiting room of the hospital, as the nurse was leading us through. Little eyes were on us, desperate eyes of the mothers were on us. 
The hospital is solely for children, funded by the government, which means it isn't funded very well. Doctors are so very few and even fewer nurses. Not everyone at the hospital has been attended to medically, the hospital doesn't provide food simply because there is no funds for that nor time to even prepare the food. 
The kids are tak…

shattered pieces of my heart

"break my heart for what breaks yours.." 

A song we sing at church. Are we crazy to sing a song that literally asks God to break our hearts for what breaks His? 

I've been on a lot of trips before, visiting the poverty, seeing the starving eyes, and holding the sickest of babies. Each trip opens my eyes more and more, and breaks my heart even on a greater scale. 

Today was a hard day for me. So many times during the day I wanted to burst into tears, I felt helpless, I felt and overwhelming wave of so much heartbreak, I think I actually heard my heart shatter to pieces. 

During worship, having a baby tied to my back the Ugandan style, I stood in front of the crowd and watched these kids barefoot, dirty clothes, teared t-shirts jump up and down praising God. In my mind I think "what do you have to praise them for?" Then Janet's words resonated "If you're alive, that is a reason in itself to be praising God." I had tears rolling down my face as I clo…

and the dust on my feet

From LAX to Dubai to Entebbe- here walking around in my beloved red dirt Uganda. Nothing seemed real until that plane brought me to this country. The plane wheels hit the ground and the tears started to roll down my cheeks. 

For so long, I have been so angry at God for giving this love for the nations, and then not opening any doors. Only to realize, that I needed growth, I needed to turn to Him fully, only to understand that He needed me somewhere else at the time. As I looked out the window through my teary eyes, I heard Him say "See, I got you back here." I felt a sense of relief, I felt as if this was what I needed from Him, to finally feel Him. 

Stepping out of the plane, the instant smell of Uganda hit my senses and my heart began to race. Feeling all sorts of emotions, I took my first step onto Uganda. My heart was full with joy. 

Getting all thirty of our checked in bags was already a challenge, patience was much needed. Sweat dripping down my neck, hunger in my tummy, …

"No, Nat- It's what you make it"

For the longest time I've trained my brain to think that it is okay to say "it is what it is." Until a few days ago, I was with a friend and he said "No, it's what you make it." Something his father taught him, and he passed it on to me. 

That night I was laying my bed with my Christmas lights on, fan blowing on me, cuddling my stuffed animal Buzz, I realized that I've settled, I've let that phrase be enough for me, and it became some sort of justification for how things are in life. 

Life is what we as individuals make, we are not punching bags, we don't just roll with "it is what it is" because we are fully capable to make changes, we were given an unimaginable capacity to chose which paths we'll take, we've been blessed with unfathomable wisdom to think for ourselves and to decide whether the life we live is okay with us. Life doesn't decide for us, we make it. Every decision we make, every person we keep or push away, pla…

He awaits

“We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.”
― C.S. Lewis


I was sitting in church today and the pastor quoted one of my favorite authors, and I can't get it out of my head. 

Transparently speaking, the sole reason we don't let go of things, people, and situations is because we are afraid of pain. We doubt His goodness and His promises, that He will heal. We doubt that He understands, sees, and feels what we feel. We doubt that He actually wants what's good for us. We throw away His plan for our lives and hang on to things that we know we can't bare to let go of. What if God has something better? Yes, the process might be so tragically painful, so unbearable, the path might be so foggy, so unclear and so ever confusing. But what if we took a leap, a risk, a chance to trust that He actually is a good God who loves so much that He only wants to relieve us of the pain within and draw us closer …

May God break my heart so completely that the whole world falls in

I read a quote once, it stated "If you must leave, leave people better than you found them" or something along those lines. 
Through out life, we meet people, we let them into our lives, we reveal ourselves, we let them write our story. We make an impact one way or another. If we're lucky, and I mean really lucky, we get to keep those people in our lives, but sometimes that's not the case. 
Sometimes people come into our lives for the sole purpose of teaching us a lesson, or open our closed shut eyes to a new perspective, and when the job is done, it's time to go. 
I struggle with that at times. Why is it that we get to be a part of someone else's life for what it seems a split second, make an imprint and then it seems inevitable that we leave? Do we simply not allow ourselves to attach and in the duration of the friendship or whatever it may be we still show the love, mercy and compassion? Do we protect ourselves and guard our hearts while we teach others their…

not even I

Since my grandmothers passing, I have decided to take my faith more seriously. The short twelve years that I was blessed with knowing that wonderful lady, I have watched God pour out of her. At her memorial, seeing all the lives she has touched, made me look at my life, am I going to leave a legacy like that someday? Will I be a blessing for people to remember and to miss? How in the world did she manage to do it all and to love so many? 
I came up with one answer and one answer only...God. 
I had a conversation about a week ago with a very very dear friend of mine, and we were talking about Romans 8:31-39, where it talks about how nothing can separate us from the love of God. Meaning, once we are saved, we are His. I've heard this verse a million times, it was always encouraging, knowing that no matter what comes my way, no matter what battles I've lost, I am His once and for all. 
Read this with me: "And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Nei…

my grandma's house

It will always be My Grandma's house.

Tomorrow it will be two weeks without her presence here on earth and next to us. Two weeks used to feel so long ago and now two weeks seems like yesterday. With each life taken there is an immeasurable amount of pain we go through, the tears we shed, the sobbing bodies we hold, and we let others hold us when all we wish is to be in her arms just one more time.

I've watched the husband of his beloved wife weep, pounding his fist on the hospital table crying out "no, no, no, please no." I watched the denial fade and the reality settle into a man who has lost his beloved girl. I hear his cries still.

I've witnessed a great weakness come over the youngest son of this wonderful women I call my grandma. There's a hole in his heart and I see right into it. When I close my eyes in this barely lit room I can still see him giving his mother a last good bye hug, holding that lifeless body, and kissing those ice cold cheeks. I hear the …

babbling and rambling

what will you do this year? who will you become? which version of you will you chose to show others? 

each year, we proclaim a new self, we make resolutions, we commit to being better, and honestly guys, it never lasts long. its rather silly. 

of course I'm excited for the new year, however what stopped us from being the better us last year, a day ago? why do we as a people do that to ourselves, it's almost as if we give ourselves a free ticket to screw up and be whoever we want to be and act however we want to act, and soon as its a different four digit date, we think all that is forgotten and we start over. No. 

the heartaches of last year still haunt us. The mistakes we made last year we are still paying consequences for. The joy we experienced in the year of 2015 we still feel the outcome of it now. 

so with this new year, take all the experiences, take all the pain, take all heartbreaks and sad songs, and claim them as part of you, and learn. Learn to be stronger, don't j…