A Self Proclaimed "Crazy One."

To let you understand how big this whole Haiti thing is, I want to explain a few things. Give you some more information about me to make this crazy dream of mine a little more understandable.

Ever since I can remember I've always been a dreamer. Always stuck up for the underdog. Always took risks for others. And always believed that I could change the world. Believed it wholeheartedly. And still do. Even as this child I always felt like I would end up living in some other country. I've never felt like I'd stay in the US. Not that I have any problem with being an American and all that, I've just always envisioned myself in some other part of the world helping people. Changing the world. Sparking a revolution. Making a difference.

Even when I was a baby someone told my parents, "She's going to do something great. She has something big planned for her." I don't remember exactly when my mom told me about that moment, but ever since it's been a blessing and a curse. More of a blessing when it's all said and done, but at time's of my life I remember thinking I had screwed up so bad that I had missed what I had been created to do. I had missed my chance to make my mark on this world. That was hard for me. My entire life I had really believed that I would do something amazing and great. I thought I would change the world.

You see, I'm a bit of a dreamer. I like to be very real with myself but I also feel like some rules simply don't apply to me. Or maybe some limits don't apply to me, I guess. I don't feel inhibited by fear. I feel like anything is possible. Sometimes, I feel like the mission and the purpose for things being done, trump logic. I completely disagree with the "one person can't change the world" view. It perplexes me. I can't understand how people could possibly believe this. And what baffles me more is when people don't believe that I can do it.



Anyways, I want to change the world...
And a year ago I wanted to so badly, but I was starting to feel heavy wondering if my purpose had escaped me. I was 24, working at a job that I really did love, but wasn't fulfilling my biggest dreams in any kind of way. I was making pizzas at a factory and helping feed people, but I wasn't becoming a Mother Theresa by any means. I started to pray about where I had been and where I was going. Started telling God that I knew he probably had something decent left for me but that I was worried that I missed the Big Shebang he had for me.

After I started praying a lot about that I remember thinking over and over in my head, "Be still, and know that I am God."  So, I continued working my job, and wondering where the life I had was going to fit into the life that was ahead.

For as long as I can remember we had these amazing friends that are basically blood family. Might as well be. And they've been going to these women's retreats for years now and last year was the second time that I had gone. The weekend was amazing, I had some occasional anxiety but nothing too intense. It was the last day and I felt skipped. I had been trying to continue to be still, and silent, and listen to God, but I wasn't getting anything. Not anything specifically for me, I should say. Before our last session I went outside to enjoy the amazing Ozarks of Arkansas. I went out and just sat quietly trying to clear my mind before the session so I didn't miss anything. I wanted whatever I was supposed to get this weekend

Looking out over this made me feel so small and so humble in the presence of all this beauty. 

The music starts, I go inside and instantly I feel a major anxiety attack. I headed for the back and just sat there while we watched a video that I would have normally loved. I weathered through the anxiety after a good long while and got up for my seat once the movie was over. As I walked past the speaker of the camp, (a truly lovely older lady that spoke with wisdom, and truth, love and sincerity. And who also had you lingering on her every word) grabbed my arm. And in a hind sight is 20-20 kind of way, she sparked the beginning of this whole Haiti thing.She told me that she wanted me to know that God still had something for me, and not to worry about it, because it was coming very soon. Just to be ready for it.

I wept. And smiled. And knew.

25 is just the beginning

I just turned 25 in September and this is by far the best year of my life. In this short 4 months I've gone bungee jumping, snorkeling, swam in the ocean and traveled to a new country, an island at that. All for the first time. All things to cross off my bucket list. And no. I didn't go on a cruise. I went to touch my dreams, to live them, and make sure I wanted to continue living them. What I ended up finding out was, I didn't want to stop living them. 

I'd like to say I'd start from the beginning but I wouldn't know where to start. I remember having a moment after I landed in LA thinking, "My whole life has literally been building up to this. The good. The bad. The moments that broke me and made me." Life just made sense. It was an almost intoxicating experience. Truly feeling like life was understandable. It almost made me feel invincible. Like, I had found my destiny but knew that until I fulfilled it, everything would be ok. I was on the path I was made for, and I just had to stay on it. (Which is honestly a thought that persuaded me to go bungee jumping, and actually follow through with it.) 

To anyone scared to do this, it's one of the most frightening  experiences to ever have just standing there, trying to jump. But the second you do it... the chords tighten, making you feel secure and you're able to enjoy the thrilling rush! 

So, I keep talking about my destiny, and all that jazz. And what I'm referring to is going and living in Haiti. From the first second that the thought of me going to Haiti crossed my mind, I had this weird factual feeling that I was going there. It was going to happen. I've never been so positive of something in my whole life. I was so positive it made me doubt myself. Only because being that sure of something weirded me out.  (That's the only sensical thing I can think of to describe it. ha) But yes, I had my dreams handed to me and placed in my lap. And I took them and ran with them. It was a crazy experience, and it was only the beginning of me preparing for what was ahead. And this is just the beginning of me telling you about it.