I Saw Cement

A few days ago, I was leaving a friends house. It was really muggy and humid and I think the sudden change of climate shocked my system. A few seconds after leaving, I passed out going down the stairs outside her apartment. I came to seeing only cement! Thankfully I was with another friend and didn't land face first! I only have a huge bruise on my left shin!

It really got me thinking about times we fall and hit rock bottom. My first rock bottom was junior high when I thought dying was the best answer and had no desire to live. I attempted suicide three times in one week as a ninth grader. 

My other rock bottom was my sophomore year of college when my post-traumatic stress disorder took over and kept me from being able to continue in college. There was a dark four years where I had to fight to survive my past and step into a thriving life as an adult. It was not easy.

My last rock bottom was my second failed engagement. This guy was someone I thought I would truly love forever and who was as in love. In less than a month after we broke up, he started dating someone else. It was three years that I felt like were such a waste and left me so confused and hurt. It took a solid year to forgive him and let go. Now I have awakened into a reality of understanding God's love for me and the Father heart of God so much that I no longer crave a relationship with someone like I used to. Sure, I would love to be married, but I am so confident in God's love for me that it satisfies places no man ever could. I would love to be a wife and a mother, but I have a purpose as a single woman that I will never get back when those purposes do. 

This Abraham Journey has also had moments of bottom-dwelling. However, there has not been a single rock bottom experience because I continue to follow the Fatjer's will. When it has been hard and I have been tempted to run away, I have let God sustain me. When it has been terrifying and I start to question why I am here, I quickly think of all the good that has come from this journey. Sometimes I see cement, but most of the time I see blessings.

Laying my Isaac Down

This Abraham Journey has really been a crazy parallel to Abe's real story. Specifically, I have been thinking a lot about his desire to have a son and an heir, but for decades was unable to. Then, he was given a promise and prophesy from God that sounded too good to be true, even his wife laughed when she heard it. Then, against all odds it came to pass. Only to be followed some years later by a crazy request of God to sue the unthinkable: sacrifice the son. He and his boy go up and before it could happen, a beautiful, spotless lamb appears to be used instead. It was meant to be a testing of Abe's faith and obedience to God, something Abe needed to know about himself--that He was indeed faithful. It was also something Abe needed to know about God---He keeps His promises. And it was something the world needed to see--God  has provided a perfect lamb, once and for all: Jesus. It really is one of my favorite Old Testament stories. 

Here I am in Waco, Texas and I can see a parallel in a lot of ways. 

A few decades ago, a group of friends and I were at my apartment in Fairmont and we were talking about the Holy Spirit. We were a hodge-podge group made up of a former atheist, a former catholic, a Pentecostal, and a former Lutheran. We were studying the book of Acts and one of us asked about speaking in tongues. The conversation led to myself and another friend being prayed over and receiving the gift of tongues. We then started praying over each other and giving each other words of encouragement and prophesy. A friend, Corey, said to me: 

"Truth will mark you. You are a woman of Truth. You couldn't lie if your life depended on it and others hate that about you so much, and God smiles. You will carry that Truth to the world. Not as a career, but as a gift to others. When God says, 'Go,' be ready to give the gift of Truth to them."

Here I was last Tuesday night at Lifegroup listening to my Lifegroup leader's testimony and I remembered that word from my friend. It was a word I had forgotten about that was given to me in 2007.

Later, in 2008, I was given the opportunity to go on a mission trip to Mexico. I was excited and expecting a lot of amazing things to happen, but my passport application was never received and I was unable to go. I cried about it, but in my tears God said, "I love your willingness. I wanted you to know the insider information of this trip so you could pray more effectively." So I was a prayer partner for my friends and they had an amazing time. A week later, I got my application file back in the mail from the post office. It was marked: "address unknown" even though the address was correct. 

Fast forward a few years later. My friend Katie and I were talking about The Lords  Resistance Army and Invisible Children and she said, "It is my dream to go there to Uganda and work with children coming out of that situation." I looked at her and said, "Let's make it happen. I'd love to go with you." Eventually, the trip was happening and we were starting our fundraising efforts. When, once again, my passport application was lost. This time it was not only lost, but I never received anything back in the mail to this day. I prayed for my team, but I also got some backlash from some would-be-supporters who told me, "This never happens. You're making up everything. There was never a trip." I was so offended and hurt, so I cried again to God. He told me, "It is not your job to answer to others. You don't need to worry about them, or defend yourself. I will deal with them. You need to pray effectively for your team again. This is what I wanted you to do. And I wanted you to be willing to go even if the place was not a guarantee of safety. I wanted to know you trusted me." Praying for that trip and my team was amazing. My friends had an amazing time. And I resolved with God from that day forward I would bring willing to go anywhere He was calling me to.

Then, I came to Texas. I was gonna do the Night Discipleship School but my work schedule changed last minute. I decided to do the Day Discipleship School instead, not knowing anything about it. I ended up biting off more than I could chew and stopped after the first semester. My team went to Lebanon for 3 weeks and just got back yesterday. The  idea of going to Lebanon for Syrian Refugee Relief was exciting to me. I was thrilled to go and over the moon excited for what God was gonna do. In September, I sent my passport application in for a third time. I made sure I did everything correct and even paid for tracking on the envelope. The post office double checked everything and said it was taking folks 4-6 weeks and not to worry. By November, I still had not gotten my passport. Instead, I received a letter all the Day School staff members had never seen. Apparently, the passport people watch Texas applications very meticulously and questioned my identity and requested 5-10 documents proving long-term identity of myself. Every item had to be 5 years old or more.  I called them and they were supposed to call me back. I never received a call. 

After leaving the discipleship school, I have been continuing to pray for my team. In March, God put my team heavy on my heart. He told me I was not only to pray for them, but fast for them while they were gone. My team left three weeks ago and just got back yesterday. The past three weeks was not easy to fast from something I love, and I did have two occasions of failure, but there was something that came out of the past three weeks. Connection with God and intercessory prayer that felt powerful. Prayer changes so much, even countries away. God showed me that, by having to stay behind, again I was given a chance to pray more effectively. He said, "I will use this team in ways they won't believe. You need to fight for them in prayer." That was all I needed!!! Haha! When God says to you "You need to fight for them in prayer," ya do it!! 

In April, I got an email from the passport people that my passport was received and they were starting the processing procedures. I was told it was taking 4-6 weeks right now. I was so surprised, I had long expected to be denied, especially since I never got a call back from them. I called the number in the email and it ended up being a direct phone number to the El Paso, TX Passport Agency Office. This really nice lady explained everything. Apparently, they have strict guidelines they have to follow in Texas due to identity theft and an increase of false records. As a result they strictly follow a rule that any identification sent in with the passport application needs to have been issued over 1 year before the date of the passport application. I sent in my new Texas Driver's License I had just gotten in February, 7 months prior to the date on my application. I asked her what I could do, as I didn't have a lot of what was requested of me to send in the letter. She told me to gather up 10-15 items from as far back as possible to prove my long-term identity. She said I could send in pictures of them to her direct email to quicken the processing procedures! 

It is now nearly 9 months since I sent my passport application in. It is 4.5 weeks since I emailed the lady all my photos. I have so many friends going on trips to Engage the Crisis of Syrian Refugees. My original team has left and come back. And I am praying for a third time in my life for my passport to come. 

Today, I found myself bargaining with God as I was praying for friends who just landed in Europe: "If you give me my passport, I will go back and finish. I will do Night Discipleship School. I can't think of a reason not to go. And I will go anywhere You call me to. I just want to share Your Truth as a gift to the world." And then, I remembered my friend, Corey's words, "and God smiles."

My passport is still not here. But I am trusting God's plan for my life. I'm laying my Isaac down and trusting He is faithful. 

From Where I Sit

I have seen a lot of things by watching others. I think it comes from being the youngest of 8 kids in a very blended family. I tried hard growing up to not repeat what my siblings would get in trouble for, or not do what made my parents angry. In school, I was no different. I can only think of a handful of times I let my teachers down by a conscious choice on my part and each time a part of me died inside. As an adult, I find I still observe people and groups. Instead of figuring out how to please them, I am observing where they are at and how to pray for them.

It is a total perspective shift. A huge part of my story and faith journey has been learning to please God and not man. The approval of man was something I always struggled with until this Abraham Journey began last year. A big lesson for me is realizing I can never fully please a human being, I will let them down and fail at some point. It is also realizing even people I love dearly let me down and have failed me. None of us are perfect and able to live up to perfection. 

I learned a few years ago that, for me, one of the key parts to me developing an eating disorder was this pressure I gave myself to please others and live up to whatever I perceived they wanted me to. Whenever I would fail, I hated myself a little more. The self-hate morphed into this ugly fungus that ate away at me from the inside. The more I failed at pleasing others, the more I hated myself, and the more I fed my eating disorder.

Since moving to Texas, I have experienced language barriers, cultural misunderstandings, embarrassing moments brought on by not knowing Waco, being the new person everywhere, getting lost and having to ask for help to get to locations obvious to locals, and many other failings. I fail some how some way at least every week, if not daily, when it comes to achieving approval from others!! It didn't take long for me to stop crying about it and start laughing about it. From where I sit, this journey has been profitable for teaching me to focus on pleasing God alone. Simply moving away from everything I knew and loved (Minnesota) to move to everything I knew nothing about and kinda hated (Texas) has caused me to make choices daily that are in line with God's desires, as well as my own values and convictions.

Instead of pleasing others out of fear, I am pleasing God and developing a greater understanding of the person I truly am and my identity in Christ. Nothing I do is for my own gain anymore. Instead, I have one God in three persons (Father, Son, & Holy Spirit) I want to please. 

The Journey Continues

This morning after working the night shift I lay in bed trying to sleep and instead I started thinking.

I moved to Waco in February 2015 and this year really feels like it did last year! To be fair, there's been lots of parallels around the same time: Lifegroup searching, discerning which church to really land in, moving to a new apartment, taking a children's ministry training to start serving in May, and trying to get to know Waco. 

When I decided to step away from the Discipleship School in January, I didn't expect the challenges that would come. I found out about a rumor as to why I left and was able to squash it, but not without it stinging a bit. My third Lifegroup disbanded, which made me suddenly alone on an island of 1. I checked out a couple churches and was really liking one, but craved times of really encountering God and Holy Spirit during worship. With the prompting of two friends, praying and receiving direction from God, and coming to realize that I am a person who loves being a part of a church that welcomes the power of the Holy Spirit and not deny it exists. I decided Antioch really is the place I most belong. My experience has been far from the "norm" I'm told regularly, but it doesn't make it any easier to be here a year and still feel so new, still feel like I am in culture shock. This part of the journey has been hardest.

The journey so far has had a lot of sudden surprises that continue to be guideposts along the way. 

One guidepost was my therapist, Salley. I didn't expect to connect to easily and so deeply with her. I think her passion, support, and belief in me has marked me in a powerful way. The journey is continuing with her still being a big part of my wholeheartedness development. 

Another guidepost I didn't expect is my seester, Meagan. (yes, I meant to spell it wrong.) we met around this time last year at my very first Lifegroup and instantly connected. In many ways we are opposite, but in many ways we are complimentary to one another. I didn't expect to have such a sweet friendship develop so deeply. We are now roommates, but I say first she's my seester.

Another guidepost has been my heart condition, NCS. Passing out at work this time last year was really fun! All my heart tests, blood tests, scans, and tilt-table test we're interesting! In the end, I have learned that I need to self-care, manage stress better, and always take my meds! I have learned to say no, learned to ask for help, and learned to pace myself. 

The journey moves forward. I'm in a new Lifegroup, which so far has been good. I'm trying a different area to serve in for children's ministry. I'm working and hoping to pay off bills so I can return to college and finish my degree in 2017!

My biggest part of my life right now is staying connected to God, community, and develop friendships with other gals. Deep in my heart, I would love to be given a mentor as well, which I call someone older than me by 5-10 yeas whose been a Christian longer than me, and is a woman. I would also love to have a few girlfriends, connection and friendship is most what I need. 

My journey is unique like me. I like it. I'm thankful God's working out all the details as they come!

The Beauty of a Closet

It wasn't my first thought, after watching War Room, to have a prayer closet. Honestly, I have not had a closet for about 3 years since this past October. Believe me, I have had to get creative on how I store my clothing. I have also had to be serious on stuff and what I own. I don't believe it is wise to fill up your closet with tons of outfits, most of which you won't even wear in a year's time! After moving 5 times the past 4 years, I made a promise to myself three things:

1) If it doesn't fit me today, it will fit someone else. I give it away to a friend it will fit, or donate it. Often times through my church connections, there's a garage sale to support a missionary, or a garage sale to support the Discipleship Schools. It's much better than storing it for "when it fits me," which if I ever do lose a significant amount of weight the LAST thing I will wanna do is wear something of mine super old! I believe I would have earned a SHOPPING SPREE! :-)

2) If I didn't wear it this past year, I do need it anymore. This is most difficult with dresses, especially fancier ones. I'm finding I love to dress up, but I don't always do it every day or even every Sunday. My church I attend in Waco is very casual or business type, so wearing a dress isn't always the first thing I think of. I got rid of 6 when I moved and I'm slowly building my collection up again.

3) I don't need a full closet. Plain and simple. Do I rotate clothes? Kinda, but not intentionally or scheduled. Do I wear the same clothes often? Definitely. In fact, I will wear some outfits so rarely throughout the year that it isn't a surprise for even my roommate to compliment or notice them! Ha! Do I follow the latest fashion trends? NO. I really never have been one to be a fashionista. To me, my every day wardrobe should be logical for what I normally do, comfortable so I'm not squirming or start a sensory processing problem, and be versatile. I don't need a full closet to achieve these things, so why bother?

Recently, I moved into a 2 bedroom/2 bath apartment with my roomie-sister-BFF, Meagan. It has been delightful to finally have my own space, my own room, and be able to have my very own closet to myself. As I was finally hanging my clothes up a few days ago and organizing my closet, I realized I only have enough space for half my closet to be used! This was extremely exciting! My mind started thinking about what I could do with the space! Immediately, all ideas were shut down after I realized what I could do: a prayer closet!!!

This is no surprise really, especially after having watched War Room at LEAST 3 times! (Amazing movie about the power of prayer that is heavily misunderstood in non-Christian circles.) I basically have been very convicted on time spent really fighting in prayer for myself, my family and friends, and those I know who need Jesus. I also pray for a significant number of missionaries, which is exciting! There's plenty I could do in that little area!! So I'm in the process of getting it exactly the way I want to. I think I'm finally learning the beauty of a closet.

May I Never Forget

Today is April 11, three years since I work up in Trauma ICU. I first remember hearing this beep constantly...and the pain it was causing in my head. Then, I noticed my head felt like a migraine headache, loopy, and so tired all at once--a feeling I have never felt before. Then, I opened my eyes to see a blanket hanging from the ceiling. What the?! Why is that there? Then, I saw a glass wall at my feet and I was lost. Then, I tried to say, "Make it stop," but I could not talk. I started to panic at that point. I could t move my arms, they were tied down? What the heck?! I finally pulled my left hand free and pulled on a string coming out of my blanket, when suddenly the beeping became a constant "BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP" and a series of other alarms and sounds went off simultaneously. Suddenly, the glass wall opens and this lady runs to me and says "Emily! You're awake! Do you want that tube out?" I kept trying to talk and couldn't. She says a bunch of stuff and out of my mouth comes this insanely long plastic tube. I cough a lot afterwards and she says, "Don't be surprised of you cough blood or weird stuff." Then, she talks really fast and I miss everything until I hear "You'll recover but you were in a bad car accident. You had a traumatic brain injury." Then, a ton of people come in to say hello. I think 8? One tells me he is my neurologist and he starts asking me questions:

What is our name? "Emily Ardolf 

What is your middle name? "What's a middle name?"

What month is it? "March."

What year is it? "2010."

Where are you? "A hospital."

Which hospital? "I don't know."

What state are you in? "Minnesota."

What city? "Twin Cities?"

Which one? "I don't know."

Who is the Governor of Minnesota? "Tim Pawlenty"

Who is the President? "Bush"

And then came another lady who asked me if I remembered what happened in the car accident. "What car accident?" I was told I was hit by a commercial truck that was destroyed as was my car. "What? When?" Yesterday. "Where is my mom?" We don't know. We have not been able to get information on your family. Do you have her phone number? "It is 705-733 or something. Where is my phone? I want to talk to my sister." And they find my phone in my bag of chopped up clothes. And then I sob-cry forever.  They wrote down the whole encounter in my medical chart via the scribes of my neurologist. My first "awake evaluation" where I "was oriented only to self and failed most questions, and had dancing eyes, and extreme emotional response at the end." 

I remember very little that day. I moved to a room out of ICU. Some lady came trying to get me to do fine motor skills and I couldn't do any of them, so I cried. I had to learn to walk in physical therapy, which I cried during too. I talked to my sister on the phone and my mom. My friend Sarah came to visit me and I didn't want her to leave. I cried after she left. It was a big day.

I never want to forget the day I woke up. 

A Job or a Tribute?

I have been blessed to acquire a second, part-time job recently. While only 10 hours a week, it is still nice to have something to cushion expenses, but also add purpose to life. NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness) Waco has hired me to be a peer support specialist. It is a fancy phrase for saying, "I have been hired to support, encourage, and provide resources to folks with mental illness on the basis that I have one and worked to overcome it." Presently I am placed at a strategic location to build up my clientele and build a report with the clients there. It is a local non-profit that tends to be a hub and safe haven for the homeless population of Waco and those who are among the poorest. It has been really great to sit down at a picnic table with folks and hear them tell their stories, as raw and honest as they could be.

I can't help but think of my brother, Carlos every day I am there. My brother was not well known, but I can confidently say he is my hero of heroes. The man battled paranoid schizophrenia for twenty years, terrified that someone was going to kill him. Yet, every single day, he kept living some how. At the time of his death, he was almost done graduating with his college degree. He would take the bus and ride his bike all alone, across St. Louis mind you, to go to his classes. Every day he would text our sister about people he was sure were wanting to, or planning to kill him--and he still went to class. I don't have that type of courage and determination!

Carlos was 10 years older than me. He was in foster care shortly after his diagnosis, so he never really had much to integrate him into adulthood. It was a struggle for him to figure it out on his own, which led to him being homeless for many years while I was growing up in elementary and junior high. He would be nomadic with his living arrangements, which would change with every hospitalization that he would have and he had many. Periodically, he would call or write, but he was never consistent with it. Our relationship was not well defined for me and I never really knew what to do about it, or how to improve it. It is one of the things that still bothers me after his death to be honest. I didn't realize the reality of what he went through as a homeless person until this job.

There's street life homeless people live to survive. They find ways to get food and water, but also find rest and have a sense of safety. Some live two miles out of town under an overpass because their afraid of getting hurt. Some live in groups in an abandoned building downtown. They have a certain determination to keep living life, regardless of the circumstances that led them to this present situation. One saying I hear often is, "My life purpose is to survive and keep pushing through the tough shit life hands me." The honesty of that sentence makes me pause for a moment.

Once in awhile I look at these people around me and I see my brother in every single one of them. "The absence of your presence is everywhere." I try so hard to respond with respect, dignity, and friendship because so many of them don't have any of it. And I often wonder, who was respectful to Carlos? Who gave him dignity? Who were his friends? When he was homeless, who gave him the last two dollars they had because he held up a sign--or did he ever hold up a sign? Then, I think of his home he had in St. Louis.

Carlos had an apartment at the time of his death that he was proud of. Our sister helped him get in touch with various services so that he didn't have to constantly lose his home with every hospitalization. He was able to afford his apartment in the worst side of St. Louis. The building was a four-plex and he had a studio. It was a decent size, but it was not in well-kept building. I can't even describe the environment properly except to say I could never live there, or be paid to live there. Carlos was so proud of his self-sufficiency. His plan was to eventually provide for himself completely and he was well into his goals for his recovery. My thoughts often reflect upon this chapter of his life. I wonder if he had any regrets? What would he say if a peer support specialist talked to him? What goals would he have in his recovery? What advice would he give people? And sometimes, I think about our relationship.

We sort of drifted apart over the years because he was so challenging to engage and interact with. Towards the end of his life, he was having audio and visual hallucinations. It was not uncommon to have a perfect normal conversation over the phone, only to find out later he called someone else in the family because he was so sure you said something you didn't. He would often ramble on and on, sometimes making sense, but sometimes--most times--not. And I wouldn't know what to do or say, so I would suddenly say, "Well, I gotta go!" I would end the conversation whenever it got too weird, only because I didn't know what else to do. I wonder now, what would have happened if I would have just listened a little bit longer? Often times I wonder if I told Carlos, "I love you," and if he actually knew that I did? This is the biggest thing I struggle with after his death: Regretting the way I loved him and how I showed him I loved him.

I suppose this job is more than a job to me. It is a way for me to honor my brother's legacy. A way to stare mental illnesses in the face and not be afraid anymore of the weird moments, or the hard moments. It is a way for me to show up in a life of another human being and say, "I see you. I hear you. I understand. You matter. You have a value and a purpose. You are loved." Of course, I may not say it with words, but with my actions. And every single minute I am clocked in, my brother is on my mind. I guess you could say, I work to honor his legacy.

Carlos' legacy of determination, hard work, and courage are things I hope I hold onto every single day of my life. I only wish his heart would have kept going long enough for us to reconnect and restore our relationship. And I will always hope he knew I loved him more than he ever knew.