Niecey Lovin'

My beautiful, hysterical, fun, adorable, lovely niece. Isn't she great? 

Dr. Dave

That's my brother. He's a doctor now. Yes, I'm boasting. 

I'm still significantly shorter even while on my tippy toes

I'm not really sure how this is supposed to be a hood, but that's what Allison said they call it so I'll go with it.

We're so proud of our graduate

In case you're wondering... Yes, I did make him do this. No, he didn't actually lift off the ground and fly. It was a close call though. I was wondering too. 

The current nickname is still Dr. Dave, but I'm thinking the whole dr. thing will give me a whoooole lot of nickname ammo. For instance, Dr. Nano has a nice ring to it.... :-)

Lilacs

This is the view I woke up to this morning, and it is lovely. One of my first thoughts was, "I'm back in England!" In fact, I am even wearing my Capernwray hoodie for memory's sake. We don't have days like this in the desert-like climate of New Mexico very often, so I enjoy every minute of clouds and drizzle that I can get. 

In typical Colorado style, today's weather is complete opposite of the weather we had yesterday. Here's just a glimpse of the bright sunshineyness. And those flowers, by the way, made my day. 

Yesterday I walked into my room and noticed a fabulously fantastic floral fragrance. I pondered that for a moment, wondering who had snuck into my room and rubbed flowers all over the wall. Then I remembered that Amelia had oh so kindly cut lilacs off of our beautiful, blooming lilac bush/tree/things, arranged them into charming vases, and then kindly distributed them to most of the girls on campus.

Do you ever wish you could somehow capture smell? Someone really needs to invent a scent-capturing mechanism. I have no idea what it would be called, but we need one. 

If we DID have a scent-capturing mechanism, I’d share the lovely lilac smell with you. But what would we call it?

Unsettling, Astonishing, Outrageous Paul Washer

One day, as I was addressing about 100 support letters (see above), I decided that it would be a great use of time to listen to a sermon as well. So I walked myself over to the Victory Wing to get a few Paul Washer sermons from Madison. I won’t lie, I was a teensy bit giddy as I walked back with my little flash drive in hand. His sermons are shocking, powerful, and full of the Word of God, and I ponder over them and soak them up like a sponge. One sermon in particular has been particularly challenging to me- “The Glory of God in Missions.” Ohhh it’s good.  Here are a few quotes that jumped out at me.

“It all goes back to the two great commandments and getting them back in priority. The first great commandment is to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind strength and the second is to love your neighbor as yourself. Every thing in the divine human relationship must be founded upon these two commands. In these two commands, know this, that God has preeminence.... our chief motivation is the glory of God.”

“When I go to the mission field, I don’t go after the lost. I go after my family. I have brothers and sisters there, and they don’t know about their Father.”

“You know the cute little saying ‘God hates the sin and loves the sinner’? It’s heresy. When you start building your theology off of clichés and things written on the back of t-shirts, you’re in trouble. ‘God hates the sin and loves the sinner.’ The Bible says God hates all those who do wrong. You say, ‘What about John 3:16?!” Well, it’s inspired. But Psalm 5 is inspired too. God hates the workers of iniquity. It doesn’t say He hates iniquity, it says He hates the workers of iniquity.” (Scandalous, no? You’ll have to listen to the sermon yourself to find out more.) 

I would highly recommend listening to The Glory of God in Missions! Of course, I don’t recommend swallowing everything he says whole. Test it all, compare it to the Word, try to find something wrong with it, and line yourself up with what the Word of God states is true.

Don’t have time? I listen to sermons when I’m getting ready in the morning, cleaning, cooking, exercising, driving.... There’s all sorts of opportunities! Try it, you’ll like it. And if you don’t then you’re a heathen that’s going to hell.

Just kidding. 

Funny Quote: “You know, you look a lot shorter inside” says a 6’7” (or somethin’ like that) man. 

Bravo For Breakfast!

Yesterday morning we women of Ellerslie walked into the Everitt's Center not entirely sure what to expect. Rumor had it that the men were cooking us breakfast. What we walked into far exceeded our expectations: Four tables with fancy black tablecloths spread over them, elegant classical music playing in the background, and unbelievably delicious smells wafting into our noses. Almost as soon as we sat down, a waiter came to our table to ask us what our drink of choice would be. Not much later we were asked which item we had selected off the menu. Everitt's Center had been turned into a 5 Star Restaurant.

Of Course, 5 Star Restaurant style or not, it's still Ellerslie, and we still had a lot of fun. We would never have it any other way. Here are some quotes and photos to remember.

"Can I get you some more liquids?"

Do you want Tabasco with that?"

"Can I have strawberries and whipped cream?... With French Toast on the side? Actually, add a banana too!"

"Make sure to tip the waiters well!" 

"Tip like a Christian!"

"Warning! If you get food poisoning, it's not our fault." (Said 20 minutes after the meal).

"Do you want onions on your Crêpe?"

"Nathan, did you knot my apron?!"

"Nik, your omelette's on fire!!!"

"This omelette's a baby!"

We mustn't forget to take a look at the aftermath either!

"I'm gonna go pour these eggs in the lake!"

Of course, the Ellerslie men made sure to clean everything, graciously refusing to let us help. We were extremely blessed by their act of service and love. It's things like this that causes life at Ellerslie to be so different than anything I've ever seen.

An Inglorious Calling?

Last night's sunset. They never get old. 

Today I was reading the blog of Katie in Uganda. I sat there soaking it up, thinking about the precious girls that have become her own and all the countless ways that she has poured her very self out for the glory and worship of her Savior. It was then that I was once again filled with the desire for a calling a little more glorious. The desire is not a new one, but rather a nagging voice in my mind that I’ve heard since the first time I can ever remember thinking about missions. I’m sure it is not unique to me. We think of going to India, China, Africa, South America... we think of the compelling needs there, the beautiful works that can be accomplished for the Lord. Why not start an orphanage? Why not take care of the elderly? Why not provide food, clothing, a place to sleep, and love for the homeless? Think of the self-sacrifice it would take. Think of all the eyes that would see, all the ears that would hear of the good news of our Savior. It’s true, this is the heartbeat of a Christian, and I immensely respect the saints who have given their lives to the Lord in this way.

So why then was I finding myself in a party of pity? Ironically enough, I was not pitying these hard-working, self-sacrificing, lonely, broken saints. No, I was pitying myself. Why?

I long for such a life as these. I long to be spent for His glory, to have His name exalted in my life. Oh I long for the mission’s field....

but sometimes I question where God has sent me. I have wrestled with Him about this on several occasions.

“Lord, can you not send me somewhere more difficult? Somewhere with more need?”

I hate feeling like I have to defend my calling. Sometimes I avoid telling people where I’m going, simply stating that in September I’m going to be doing missions for 9 months. I don’t know why I try that, because the next statement is always, “Oh wonderful! Where are you going?” I’m not sure what they expect, but when I smile and say ‘Paris’, incredulity often fills their faces.

“Oh, that’s rough!” is without doubt always the next response. Sometimes they slap a hand over their mouth, shocked at themselves for what just came out. Other times they commit to their statement and continue teasing me. I often wonder if they know how much that sarcastic statement resonates within my own soul. Most days it bounces right off of me. Some days it cuts like a knife.

“Lord, couldn’t you send me somewhere a little more ‘rough?’ Kenya, perhaps? China? Even Mexico! Anywhere, really.”

And then there are the days that I wonder if it’s wrong for me to go to Paris? I mean, it’s not a third world country. They have hardly any need at all. They’ve turned their backs on God and pursued other lovers. Could not my life be spent better by clothing the poor, feeding the hungry, and loving the lonely? Is it selfish of me to go to such an affluent country? Did I mishear the call?

Oh, but what a gentle Savior we serve. I often think that I am more wise than Him, and He oh so gently shows me that His wisdom is so much better.

“Kelsey,” He whispers. “Are there not dying souls in France? Am I not worthy of their praise? Do they not need My salvation simply because they have everything the world thinks they could want?”

I cry as I write this. I cry thinking about all the university students who are just like I was, lost and lonely and hurting and dirty. I cry as I think about the fact that even with my “extensive” Biblical training here in America, I did not know the full purchase of the cross, and with that in mind, how can they? I cry thinking about the fact that He died for them, and they pretend He doesn’t exist, this One who has romanced me and turned my life around. The One who created them, the One who causes the sun to rise and set, the One who is more glorious and good and magnificent than what I can imagine (and oh how I try!).

I am not a woman of tears. My tears for France only reaffirm and reestablish His calling of me. I still may not understand, and I may still think it’s not quite glorious enough. Yes, it still bothers me that people think that I am only going there for fashion and architecture and adventure. Yes, I do love those things and feel like, in some ways, God has specifically prepared and designed me for this country. No, I still don’t speak French. Yes, I have seen the movie Taken, and I realize how dangerous Paris can be.Yes, I sometimes think that $33,500 could be used for a lot of other things, like feeding starving children and building homeless shelters and probably feeding entire nations and stuff..... But will I disobey Him based on what I think?

““For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Nor are your ways My ways,” says the LORD.
“For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways,
And My thoughts than your thoughts.
Isaiah 55:8-9


“Then Samuel said: “Has the LORD as great delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices, As in obeying the voice of the LORD? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, And to heed than the fat of rams.”
1 Samuel 15:22

Tutoring the Future President

One of my most favorite things about the Ellerslie Campus is the inhabitants that we have every couple months or so.  One of our dorm buildings houses a Haitian Children’s Choir called His Little Feet whenever they are taking a break from the hustle and bustle of tour. Every time I see them, I fall even more in love with these 15 precious children from Danita’s Children Home in Haiti. They’re always so full of life, mischief, fun, and love. I thought I might share with you some of the joy that they’ve brought to me.

Last week several of us “Advanced” students had the opportunity to help the kids with their school for a couple hours. We’re always ecstatic whenever opportunity to spend time with them pops up. So one afternoon we all met up in the common area of the Victory Wing and received instructions for tutoring. I was to be working with Kesnel, the  little boy who someday wants to be the future President of Haiti. Was I feeling a little pressure? You better believe it! Kesnel, I was told, has a bit of trouble focusing on his schoolwork sometimes, so I was warned to beware of distraction methods. Secretly I was sort of hoping that I wouldn’t get distracted myself. 

Not much later I heard Auntie Brooke’s voice coming down the stairs, “You’ll be working with Auntie Kelsey today!” 

“Auntie Kelsey? Which one’s that?” (If only you could hear his adorable Haitian accent through my writing).

“Auntie Kelsey’s my friend, there she is,” said Brooke as they were coming around the corner.

“Ohhhh.... That one!” 

That one? What’s that supposed to mean? I figured based on the big grin on his face it couldn’t have been too bad a statement, so off we went to find a place to study. Kesnel, of course, really wanted to study outside, in the wind. I walked outside telling myself all the while that I loved the wind. Someday I’ll believe it.

Kesnel did great with his math, with hardly a distraction except when Nathan Rogers was around. Then came time to practice reading, so Kesnel zoomed off to find a book from the reading corner. Giggles erupted from the stairs as he clunked all the way down and took off outside again. I went out only to discover that the book he picked was Where’s Waldo?, full of colorful and fascinating pictures- but no words to read. I convinced him to go back upstairs and pick out a new book, preferably a book with lots of words.

Giggle giggle.

Thump thump thump thump thump. Whack, out the door.

This time it was a book meant for toddlers that would take 5 minutes at the absolute most to read through.

“Go pick a new one! Make it really hard!” I said.

Thump thump thump thump thump, up the stairs.

Thump thump thump thump thump, down the stairs..

He then proudly showed me the largest copy of Little Women I think I’ve ever seen. Unfortunately for Kesnel, Uncle Aaron was now standing at the bottom of the stairs and was quite convinced that Little Women was not a book suited for a little Haitian boy growing into a tough Haitian man. I can't imagine why.... 

“Kesnel, go get a manly book!” 

“She told me get hard one! I did!” 

“Well get a different hard one!” (Poor little guy)


This time Uncle Aaron helped pick out the book, and Kesnel and I had a lovely time reading all about Jujo, a little tribal boy experiencing his first step into manhood. Of course, we had a much more lovely time finding Waldo and many other interesting characters for the next 20 minutes after that. :-)