Project Cold Update

Most of you already know the update on Project Cold: The Sleep Out, but for those of you who don't, here's the scoop!

Project Cold was a project laid on the heart of Stephen Santos and non-profit organization Watchman's Call to raise funds to purchase sleeping bags for the gypsie village of Danceau, Romania. In a land where the gypsies suffer endless persecution and poverty, as well as possess high rates of orphans, Steve got a vision to be Jesus with skin on to them, and meet thier felt/basic needs of warmth this winter.. The goal was to raise 200 sleeping bags.

As a simple and practical way to help and bless someone this past holiday season, the Lord laid on my heart to do a Sleep-Out, from 9pm on Dec 28th to 6am on Dec 29th to not only raise funds through support, but to also intercede for Romania and to know what these people experience every winter.

Amidst early on-set discouragement of feeling so alone, the Lord performed a miracle in raising over $1700 in pledges and donations, as well as banding together a group of crazy believers who camped out with me. it was a beautiful experience, extremely cold, wet, and exhausting. :) A storm blew through that night, which started when we did, and ended 2 hours short of our stop. Our goal of 87 sleeping bags was blown out of the water (no pun intended! ;) and we reached over 100 bags. Praise God!

Thanks again to everyone who participated, helped, encouraged, supported, prayed, and loved. It's always so awesome to be part of a miracle with friends and family!

-cher

beautiful sign made by brooke to let our neighbors know our cause

enormous 60 x 40 ft tarp to become our shelter! oh, and our back yard :)

jason being the master "tentmaker" ;P

jenna, tracy, and j going over our official "Romanian Rule Book"

Amanda, Ashley and I writing letters and coloring pics for the kids in Romania

Ash reading the Bible with the light of heaven illuminating ;) we had cool times of prayer for Romania

Ryan and Julia being "smart" inside :)

a lovely water drain right into our tent :)

amanda's pillow is one of many casualties of our stormy night

we all moved to the concrete b/c the other half of the tent was soaked! tryin to keep warm!

a group pic is on the left -> i love these people so much! :)

the love story...

i'm always intrigued at how people read the history of this world. through text books or religious books, i always loves different views on the Story. there has to be a story. a way that it all played out. no one knows what literally happened unless they were there. even then, how does emotion and subjective interpretation play into all of it? did you ever watch witnesses on a stand? studies have shown how they are not even accurate b/c of the biases and velocity of the situations, ej. a bank robbery or crowd fight. so, really, can any one story or perception be completely trusted? what about 5 stories that coincide? or 50? or 100? what would it take to begin to turn the mind of the average onlooker to begin to speculate that a Story could actually be true? not to accept one story as completly accurate, but to begin to get glimpses of a bigger Story amidst the many little stories.

i was reading a fresh little story today by Calvin Miller, author of "A Requiem for Love." He is poetic in his version of telling stories. i love that. this particular part of the story gives an interpretation, an interaction, a make-believe 'maybe it could've happened this way' enchantment. and i love it. it plays out the story of when mankind, ergo man, was first created, and called Regis, meaning "Prince," and placed in Paradise.

p. 17

The naked Prince laid down in the grass
Soaking life from Terra's ochre soil.
"Son!" Earthmaker breated the gallant word,
Soft and often as the breeze that whispered oaks alive.
"Gift unto Myself-
The Prince of presence-
Lest I should ever be alone.
Now, Regis, image of My Being,
You are the Child to brighten My lonely house
And the glad resolution to My years inside Myself."

The new man listened, overcome by Presence.
To be given all the world at once,
Stopping his tongue and left his wit too dead for words.
Overwhelmed, he broke the awesome quiet.
"Father, I receive Your gift of being
But You have made me too rich
To name my wealth
And yet too poor
To give You anything of meaning
I love with only giftless love."

"Regis, there is no such thing as 'giftless' love.
The very words accuse each other.
My gift to you is love, but
Worship is your gift to Me.
And Oh, most glorious it is!
Worship always calls Me 'Father' and
Makes us both rich with a common joy.
Worship Me, for only this great gift
Can set you free from the killing love of self,
And prick your fear with valiant courage
To fly in hope through moments of despair.
Worship will remind you
That no man knows completeness in himself.
Worship will teach you to speak your name,
When you've forgotten who you are.
Worship is duty and privilege,
Debt and grand inheritance at once.
Worship, therefore
At those midnights when the stars hide.
Worship in the storms till love
Makes thunder whimper and grow quiet
And listen to your whispered hymns.
Worship and be free."

Taken from A Requiem for Love by Calvin Miller, (c) l989 by Calvin Miller,
Word Publishing, All Rights Reserved.

2008

It's hard to believe that's its 2008 already. mid january nonetheless. so far this year we've had 60 degree weather, 1 in of snow, and the first considerations of a black or woman president. what a year it will be, depending on who you ask. for me, i've decided to be less contemplative and more simple with the workings of this blog. so, cheers!

currently, i am starting my last semester of prerequisites here at good ol' Montco. 2.5 years there so far, full and part time. i've cherished it all, wouldn't change a thing, not even the major changes or the excess classes that don't count for anything. each has shaped who i am today.

i petitioned for the nursing program last friday and will hopefully be starting this summer full time. for those of you who know me, you'd probably say that i'll make a good nurse. and i'm sure you're right. i'm learning that there's a much needed balance in living a life for Christ. Sometimes there's things he calls us to do that would not necessarily be our pick. i feel nursing is one of these things. while i wouldnt pick it, i feel it picked me, and i'm excited to take God's hand as he leads me in it. my desires, or my plan A, will always be mine and available on this earth into eternity. what i dont get to do here, i believe i'll get to delight in, with Him, there. this includes things such as singing, dancing, learning, sharing stories, and learning cultures and languages. though seemingly contrary to my previous post, i even hold marriage in this life loosely. life's just way too short to spend with someone who hasnt been crafted by Him for you.

i'm currently studying a book by Max Lucado called "It's Not About Me - Rescue from the Life We Thought Would Make Us Happy." i was a little skeptical at first, it's actually a very cool book. it's changed my perception 180, and has given me clarity, things to think about, wrestle with, and rest in. i'm also reading "the Message//remix: solo - uncommon devotional" by e. peterson. a pressure-free invitation into times spent with God; its been healing at times, when i let it.

so what are you reading? has it made you think differently or opened your eyes to something new?

an unveiling, entry 1

so as im tempted to begin at the very beginning of my life, perhaps i'll throw a wrench in the expected predictablities. Right now, i am single. i have always been single, except for a stint in 9th grade that lasted for a whole month and a half with 11th grade chris o'brien. sweet guy, but short lived. i can honestly say that i've counted the number of dates that i've been on with both of my hands. i've never had sex. never made out with a guy. and never even really kissed a guy. (other than a hit-and-run that lasted for .3 secs on news years eve that covered about half of my mouth between two very awkward teenagers.) i've never really understood guys. i always got along better with girls. girls were easier to understand. boys just arent. for my perpetual analyzing mind, much to my dismay at times, i could never just "not think" like guys do. (sorry guys :) so it comes as no surprise that i never really dated or the like. oh, i had crushes. loads of them! who doesnt? that cute boy that all the girls like. that rebel guy that you know is so bad for you but he's just... yummy :) but unfortunately, it never seemed to work out, and in the 9th grade i made an ambitious goal to wait for my future husband, believing that God would send the right boy to me at the right time.

some things have changed dramatically in the past ten years... hairstyles, weight, even thoughts on love. but one thing hasnt. i'm still currently waiting for the guy that i know my loving God has for me. some people wonder how i can put so much trust on something i cant see, touch, talk to, or that would deprive me of such "immense pleasure." but i can. because i can see Him, touch Him, talk to Him, and live in His realm of pleasure and not regret. he's never disappointed me, unlike most people that i know. so, im sticking with Him.

i will say that its been an extremely difficult road to walk on. probably the greatest thing that ive struggled with all my life. whether influenced by this american culture or not, i've wanted to be married since i was 18. im 25 now and i regret nothing. would change nothing. and dont expect to be married anytime soon. and im ok with that. today at least. and thats all im given. there have been moments when the ache has hurt like hell (pardon the french). and moments where i could have given in and up to certain guys. moments when i wanted to, so badly, but grit my teeth and chose out of my will to say no... to stay faithful to Him and to my future him.

many girls say they respect me. they couldnt do it. they dont know how i do it. but i've only been able to do it with the help of Him. He's helped to keep me faithful. no matter how many times i came close to screwing up physically, and did screw up emotionally, mentally and spiritually. He still loved me. still loves me. and wont give up.

thats how i do it. so through all the crushes and heartache, all the glories of being free, i sit here at 25, single, and loving it? sure. today at least.

a new month.

so what began as a link to over-water communication with loved ones is continuing on as a record, a thought, a collection of intentional ramblings to catelog the comings and goings of my life. if for no one else, i'm excited to have something to remember my life by, learn by, and hope for in the future.

i've decided to start a series, although im not quite sure how exactly it will transpire. it was inspired by a simple, friendly invitation that was made whilst hanging out with some very cool people on a wednesday night. one posed the question, "so what's your story?" "who are you now, where did you come from, and what made you to be who you are today?" those are some pretty hefty questions, but i thought i'd tackle them a piece at a time, a memory at time. a journal entry at a time. so much has gone into shaping us as individuals, i bet it would take a lifetime to fully hear each story. so here's mine. if u care to know it...

11:14 pm

the curse of a nightly routine is that you usually perform it just before going to bed. i'm puzzled at this ritual, because one inevitably splashes water on their face, be it warm water, sure, and eventually finds themselves awake and typing away on a computer to try and ease them into dreamland. in the meantime, a few thoughts shared never harmed anyone too badly, i hope... :)

i have nothing profound to share except the realization of late that change really does happen. you know how often you pray that you'll be different than you are and you are tempted to worry that you will be the same person tomorrow that you were today, and yesterday. maybe you dont. maybe you just like going through life a day at a time and dont think too hard about the past or future. but in my case, ive realized how much ive changed over the past few years, and especially in the past few months. since my return from europe and my return to school, ive notice a calm, eerie peace about me. i know a lot of it has to do with the God i serve, but consequently, ive never done life like this... without worry, or the drive to constantly be doing something seemingly worthwhile to give my life a "reason" or purpose. esther and i were talking about an irish friend of hers who's visiting america and taking it by storm. he mentioned that a difference between irish folk and americans is that, appearently, americans need a reason to do something, whereas irish people dont. when i ask "well, why are u doing that?" he responds with "well, why not?" i cant emphasize that enough about my love for traveling. cultures are so different, its incredible what they can learn from each other. i'm thankful ive gotten to travel as much as i have, and i think im a bit wiser for it.

if there is anyone out there whos never spoken and learned the history and life story of a person not from this country, i encourage you to do so. we're all the same, really. we need each others stories to get a glimpse of whats real in this world.

im thankful for my story. all the muck. the profound. the simplistic. all of it. i hope u are too.

a moment to myself

what is it about the late quiet of night and the early morning semi-conscious haze that ushers us into a place of honesty, uncensored thought and raw, often rude, awakenings about ourselves, our minds, and our hearts? in the place of quiet, of dark, of privacy, and safety found in the middle of the shadowed night lives the fertile sod that houses all our thoughts, righteous and wicked; our dreams, sensible and insane; our fears, ungodly and demobilizing; and our expectations, justifiable and erroneous. and when the morning sunlight breaks the calm ambiance and stirs our sensations, we awaken, in a groggy and disoriented state, only to be greeted by the unbridled thoughts, emotions, and physical appearance of our who we were yesterday and who we thought we'd be today. i am a workaholic. i can use the dictionary to define what i am, but i can only truly define the word in the only way i know how to do life.

work–noun

1. exertion or effort directed to produce or accomplish something; labor; toil.
2. something on which exertion or labor is expended; a task or undertaking: The students finished their work in class.
3. productive or operative activity.
4. employment, as in some form of industry, esp. as a means of earning one's livelihood: to look for work.
5. one's place of employment: Don't phone him at work.
6. materials, things, etc., on which one is working or is to work.
7. the result of exertion, labor, or activity; a deed or performance.
8. a product of exertion, labor, or activity: musical works.

it continues to definition #54, @ dictionary.com

—Synonyms 1. Work, drudgery, labor, toil refer to exertion of body or mind in performing or accomplishing something. Work is the general word and may apply to exertion that is either easy or hard: fun work; heavy work. Drudgery suggests continuous, dreary, and dispiriting work, esp. of a menial or servile kind: the drudgery of household tasks. Labor particularly denotes hard manual work: labor on a farm, in a steel mill. Toil suggests wearying or exhausting labor: toil that breaks down the worker's health. 2. enterprise, project, job, responsibility. 3. industry, occupation, business. 4. job, trade, calling, vocation, profession. 7. product, achievement, feat. 16. toil, drudge. 28. operate, manipulate, handle. 29. accomplish, effect, produce, achieve. 34. finish, form, shape. 37. move.
—Antonyms 1. play, rest.

-work·a·hol·ic- a person who works compulsively at the expense of other pursuits.
[Origin: 1965–70; work + -aholic] work·a·hol·ic

-work·a·hol·ic- n. One who has a compulsive and unrelenting need to work. work'a·hol'ism

pardon my partial nerdism, but i've come to realize that when dismaddening clarity finds its way into my life, the fog of subjectivity is lifted, truth is defined, no matter who ugly and undeniable it is, and i can begin to find rest for my soul. i faced all these sensations this morning when i awoke to a day full of possibilities, empty of any responsibilities, in beautifully peaked health, surrounded by five warm living breathing souls that utterly love me, and fought for a time to be reminded of something that brought me joy, utter joy. ashamed that i could be totally blessed around me, yet not find joy in anything, i began this entry in search of answers.

unfortunately and fortunately, i've discovered nothing new. only my exhortation, divine exhortation, to live in the antonym... to play and rest. i struggle to do that here. i tasted this in ireland, and long in my heart to return to taste it again.

my time in spain was bittersweet. my time in ireland was nothing but sweet.

i long to learn from all three of these cultures: spain, ireland, and america... but even bigger, i long to find the kingdom of heaven in all of these cultures. that is the only place where i truly belong, truly rest, and truly live the way i dream and was intended to...

a few pics of the beautiful people of the green isle...

mark, me and laura toastin ta wine and a pint!

sam, sean, abbi, benji, robin, john, ger, rach, and meri :)

the emerald isle :)