Pumpkin oatmeal

I'm going against my better judgement, and I'm writing this bad boy at 12:11 am. If you see me tomorrow, haggard and glazy eyed and frazzled- No it's not because I'm a cray cray 21 year college student. It's because my mind is a hamster wheel and keeps me awake. I'm still unsure of who the hamster is. One day I'm going to stick it to the man and find an off switch, but until then you get to put up with my strung-together-late-night thoughts. Bless your heart.

In the fall, I was fresh out of camp. Jesus was pumping through my veins like a venti iced coffee with a quadruple shot. I had seen miracles there. Redemption. Healing. Reconciliation. Sancitification. All the -tions were in attendance and in full force. I was fired up. I was humbled. I was broken. I was ready to give Conway a big a bear hug and inform her that we had some work to do. I refused to think it was a camp high. No not me. I'm too cool and disciplined for that baloney. I had a smile slapped on my face and I was going to buckle down and GET. ER. DONE. I had my chacos and nike shorts on and I was going to take Conway BY STORM!! Sometimes i'm a skipping home from church camp, striving ninny poser.

The Lord planted a seed in the middle of my "I'm going to get strive alot" ninny-ness. Over labor day, I went with a couple friends and stayed at a girls ministry house with some of their friends from camp. It was sketchy and beautiful and old. It had character and style and a prayer room and most importantly lots and lots of space for them to have people from their college town over. They had plenty of space to love on their town.

It made us want to throw up. It was everything we wanted for Conway. A place to have small group. A place to feed people. I place to call home instead of to call apartment. A place to make cute. A place to stay up late and be giggly, irresponsible school girls. Rather, a place for me to stay up late and be a giggly, irresponsible school girl.

Every Tuesday morning from then on out we would meet for breakfast and pray when it was still dewey and foggy outside. I would muster up all my culinary abilities and make them pumpkin oatmeal and cereal. We would stagger to my room with cereal mostly because the pumpkin oatmeal was weird, and would pray. And pray. And pray. We would pray for Conway. For the Lord to provide a ministry house for girls if that was His heart in Conway. We prayed for the people who would live in it, that He would prepare them to live there together. We prayed that in the end that He would be glorified through it all, that He would be the sole provider of it. We wouldn't look, or ask around, or horn in, or make it happen. You know, all of my go to responses to things. We would pray for the family we nannyed for. We would beg the Lord to give us grace on our tests that day. We would pray that above all He was glorified in us and through us.

Winter came in went. Christmas break ended. Spring semester started with a vengance.

We quit praying together in the spring. Mostly out of doing too much. Mostly out of exhaustion. Mostly out of lack of passion, for me. I think I just took the lack of anything happening as a sign that we would just live in pairs in apartments.

Sometimes I think the world revolves around me and my time table and that I know the thoughts of the God of the Universe.

Sometimes I write run on sentences and leave them.

Sometimes I stomp my foot like a disobedient 4 year old wanting skittles in the checkout line at walmart. But that's another story.

In March a miracle happened. It makes me want to weep, jump for joy, fall on my knees, tell everyone I know, "Oh my goodness gracious great balls of fire. The Lord is REAL and He hears me. Little, ginger, ridiculous, overthinking me!"

Without us doing anything, a house opened up, and we were asked if we wanted to live there.

It's brown. It's unassuming. It's in a quiet older neighborhood. It's perfect. I entertain thoughts about it all the time. About how I'm going to decorate my room. About having people over for dinner for the first time and the joy that's going to flood my heart in that little moment. I pray over it. It's almost like i'm crushing on it. I stare off into space and think about it. I write it's address all over my notebook. When it looks at me I blush and giggle and flip my hair off my shoulder. Too much? You win some you lose some.

From the outside, the house is not impressive. When people drive by they don't think to themselves, "Hey! There's the house that the Lord provided for those girls!" The majority of people will never know. Although in my brain I think everyone gets weepy and goofy joyous when they look at it. It's a complex.

It's amazing what lengths the Lord will go to grow our faith in Him. The detailed huge scale things He will do for an individual for His glory. Humbling is the understatement of the year. We'll never be the same. We'll never look at prayer or provision or faith or persistence the same ever again. Praise Him!