heart felt thanks

a year ago i was thanking you for beginning a journey with me.  one in which i followed my Savior across the globe to the people of india.  i thought, perhaps, it would be the beginning of a life of ministry and work in that country.  although that may yet be true, it has played out far differently than I planned.

uou see, during my time in india, the Lord brought to my attention some areas of my life that needed some serious attention.  spaces and places in my heart and mind not fully surrendered to Him.  i came home in february with a very different perspective.

coming home was exciting.  i missed my church, my family, my friends.  however, trying to communicate 6 months in 6 sentences or less was daunting.  i became discouraged and the longer i was home the harder it became to translate my experience.  what God did in me and around me was incredible, but i struggled to reintegrate.  i allowed it to delay me in expressing to you my gratitude for all you sacrificed to make my time in india possible.

and for that i am truly sorry.

there is so much work to be done.  my heart aches for the people with their dark eyes and brown skin, whose hearts beat like mine.  i want to join the believers there and see God do miraculous things bringing more out of the darkness and into His marvelous light.

i have spent a solitary summer.  it has been a season of clearing out and letting go.  of making Him the center.  of deliverance.  of obedience.  of listening, ever so carefully for His heartbeat.  it has not been an easy time, but i know that He is preparing me for a greater life than i ever could have imagined.

i wouldn’t have come to this point without you.  i could never write my story without including you and your obedience.  so thank you.  it doesn’t seem quite enough, but thank you, sincerely, i would not be where i am today, without you.

attached, please find the first of what i pray will be regular updates for what God is doing and where He is taking me.  God brought 3 women, at just the right time, to be His instruments in the excavation and restructuring of my life.  i now have the opportunity to join with these amazing women of God, those He used in my time of greatest need, to serve on the west side of charlotte for the next year.

thank you for sharing |dila|…

my heart for india

isaiah 61


what’s next

many of you have asked “what’s next” for me as i return home.  while i have not been intentionally illusive in this area, i know i have not had much to offer.  i don’t want to settle blindly back into a routine unchanged by my indian experience.  i do want to reconnect with those i love and serve with here.  it is not harder than i thought, in fact, quite the opposite.

but it is different…everything is different.

the life i left last fall does not exist.  which is good i guess, for i am not the woman i was.

i cannot help but be changed.  potential has been mined from the soil of my spirit and begs to be birthed.  passion for my Savior and the Church He came to save burns within my veins.  vision for the life my Creator designed specifically for me to live comes sharp into focus like never before.

so much change…where to begin?

two things i know…and so i bring them to you.  for you are people who pray and you are who i need.  pray and see if God would lead you to continue to partner with me as i journey on.

several of you are so encouraging of my writing.  probing to see if i will ever grow beyond this blog and be published in other ways.  i believe that answer is yes.  so here you will find a letter explaining what i believe God has for me in the arena of writing.  please pray for me as i seek to be obedient.

many of you are curious as to when i might return to the country that stole my heart.  an opportunity arises that quickens my heart and i want to share it with you as well.

when i arrived, last fall i attended a women’s retreat with my friend.  this retreat is for ladies who are foreign to india but have been called to there work.  some are married to indian men and others are serving businesses/organizations within the country.  it is a yearly retreat for them to come, wear western clothes and recharge for what God has called them to in india.

my friend has asked that i coordinate a team from the states to come and put on the retreat this year.  a guest speaker has been secured as well as a small team of ladies that will provide: worship, 1 on 1 counseling, pampering, welcome bags, and other goodies/gifts from the west.

this is a short trip and our purpose is to go and provide a restful experience for everyone.  they have tried in the past to organize a team from the states to take the planning pressure off of the coordinator(s), but it has always fallen though.  you can imagine how this takes away from their ability to rest and relax.

please pray for our team.  right now we are securing support for our $1400 plane tickets.  we must book in the next few weeks in order to keep the cost where it is.  it will only go up from here.  this is the largest expense we will have.  our  in-country expenses will be around $850 (making our total support need around $2250 each).  for details on how you can support me as i follow my heart and my savior back to india click here.

i made so many friends at this retreat last year and am still connected with several of them.  i feel like i don’t know a lot of things right now.  so much seems uncertain.  but of these two things i am sure…i am to write and i am to go.  please pray with me…for

what’s next

this is the church

she covers her head with her prayer shawl.  her sari is perfectly pleated.  her Bible, notebook and pen lay neatly stacked on the floor by her feet.  she looks over the array of girls in front of her, counting each one.  she has a mental check list: shoes at the door, matching salwar suits, dupitas draped for worship.  all is in order.  the chatter of children rises and falls this morning as believers enter and take their places.

this is the Lord’s day.

each child has a story.  they range in age from 3 years old to nearly 20.  some arriving at this orphanage before the life they come from can mar their memory.  others learning here what it means to be set free from the darkness that encircles so many indian people.

this is a place of joy.

as the Pastor and his family enter, collective greetings erupt from smiling faces.  each person in the room, adult and child alike, are acutely aware of God’s work in their lives through this faithful family.  truly God planted a vision united by a bloodline.  mummy and daddy, son and daughter-in-law daily press on toward the goal of the calling of Christ in this place.

this is purpose.

the word music doesn’t do justice to the praise of these passionate dark-eyed believers.  spilling out into the dusty streets.  beckoning the souls of all who hear to come and see that the Lord is good.

this is worship.

it is a welcome respite for this favored four.  tomorrow will bring talk of their current state of affairs.  the lease is up on mummy and daddy’s rented house.  less than 40 of their 70+ orphans have consistent monthly sponsors.  land that God provided sits a few hours away waiting for construction, buildings and the ministry to make its final permanent move to fulfill a God-given purpose.

this is opportunity.

many see this story unfold before them.  the bright colors.  the unique smells.  the warmth of the indian sun on their skin.  it changes people.  experiencing God in a new and fresh way here…and then the many return home.  muted colors, familiar smells,  the chill of the winter replace the former and somehow it is forgotten.

this is life.

our calling is for more.  He chooses each one for His purpose.  no one exactly like the other.

and He personally gave some to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, for the training of the saints in the work of ministry, to build up the body of Christ, until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of God’s Son, growing into a mature man with a staturemeasured by Christ’s fullness. ….from Him the whole body, fitted and knit together by every supporting ligament, promotes the growth of the body for building up itself in love by the proper working of each individual part.

~ephesians 4:11-13 & 16 (hcsb)

this is the Church.

for more information on how God is calling you to be a part of His work in central india, please click here.

every end is also a beginning

i find it hard tonight to put into words my six months in india.  i’m so overwhelmed with emotions.   we say here that for everything you “know” about india, the opposite is also true.  i’m finding that more than ever, as the dogs snore on the font porch and the fan whirs its lullaby reminding me that i must get some sleep before my long journey home.

all is quiet in my friend’s house.  our plane leaves early in the morning for delhi and so i’m spending the night here with them.  i said good-bye to my lil green house today.  it seems so empty and shut up as i tucked away all i’m leaving behind and covered it up to protect it from dust and such till the next volunteer arrives to take my place and have a lil green house of her own.

we’ll spend the day in delhi tomorrow just us girls.  it will be a great day.  we are bringing my friend’s daughter with us as her birthday gift.  she is so excited.  after a long day i’ll make my final preparations, make sure every item is packed and accounted for and board the first of 3 planes that will take me home across 10 time zones and who knows what else.

i’m excited to see my family and friends again, but i will miss this place.

with all my heart.

i love these people and the beautiful country they call home.  perhaps on another day i will board a plane that will bring me back in this direction.  if God says yes, so do i.  but for now, i say good-bye to india.  it’s mark is forever on my heart.  it’s people forever in my prayers.  and i say hello again to life in the states. for…

every end is also a beginning.

a very good day

last week i got to be one of the first people outside of mother and two grandparents to hold a new baby boy. the woman is a graduate of the Bible training center and lives in a village outside the city. her husband had not yet been able to come, so even he has not seen or held his son.

we took the sumo down into the neighborhood. we reached the row of houses and parked. walking down this gauntlet of shacks, roosters crowed to each other, hens and their chicks pecked at bits of styrofoam and scraps. goats bleating (do goats bleat? i’m not entirely sure).

everyone stops to stare at the foreigners who have come to visit. all eyes wondering where we will stop, who we could possibly know here. we arrive at auntie’s house, her gate consists of some boards zig-zaging their way across the opening. the courtyard is dirt. a partially bricked in area gives off the unmistakable scent that lets you know it is the outhouse. two trees serve as clothesline as well as closet.

As they hear us, auntie scrambles to tidy up. which is funny to me because every indian house is clean all the time. it would be a terrible shame for it not to be. so the little bits of this and that that may have been out were hurriedly put away. The swish swish of a broom just to make sure everything is presentable. we try to put her mind at ease that all this is not necessary, but she insists. we are her guests. her honored guests. for my friend is the pastor’s wife and she is very well respected. we are both foreign and that in and of itself garners its own respect.

a very low entrance to the home is covered with a wispy sari perfectly cut so as not to drag in the dirt. there is some kind of flooring inside, one bed, one slim table supporting speakers and a tv. plastic chairs are given up and wiped nicely so that we may sit. the baby and his older brother are not wearing pants so mother and grandmother quickly find some and slip tiny legs in. all ready for a visit.

auntie disappears into the adjoining room to put chai on the stove. an indian housewife is also always ready to provide refreshment for her guest. whether she has planned for them or not. biscuits also are brought on a silver plate and we sit and sip chai. discussing the delivery and all the doctors have said. height, weight, follow up appointment timing. this baby boy is precious. so quiet, sleeping mostly. but when he does wake up his big dark eyes are sparkling.

my friend has brought a gift. a small toy some socks and a hand crocheted toboggan. the titus women made it and mummy is thrilled. we ask if we can take some pictures, so i snap away at this precious one in his new hat. we sit and chat a few more minutes, enjoying this family and their new baby. she mentions that we are the first to come, although he was born two weeks ago. they seemed disappointed that no one else from the church had come by.

indians are very particular about the first 40 days or so after a baby is born, they do like their visitors, as the mother will not leave the house once she has brought the baby home. they do not normally allow anyone from outside to hold the baby, for fear of germs and such. on this point they do well to be careful, so I am expecting a “look but don’t touch” encounter today.

as we close our time, we pray. i love that about the Christians here. never is an opportunity missed to pray. hardly ever do they go to someone’s home without praying. it’s very much a practice i want to take home with me. my friend asks if I would like to pray over this new life. i am honored and glad to do it. as soon as it is relayed that i will pray for this new son, mother immediately picks him up, straightens his too-big clothes and hands him to me. i was so excited…i just love babies. but especially new, indian little ones. i take him and carefully cradle him. look him over and fight off the tears. find my voice and pray blessing and favor over him and his family. that he would come to know the Lord and use his life to make the name of Jesus famous in india. that God would bless this young mother as she raises two men of God and that they would be such.

in the midst of this moment…he pees. of course he does, but they don’t use diapers in india. So the thin shorts he has on in no way absorbs. my salwar suit does the job and i keep praying. after the collective ‘amen’ i pass this tiny one back to his mother who hurriedly changes him and gives him to my friend. as she does, my friend asks if this little one has a name. “no, for you to name.”

this is another indian custom. you do not name your own children. you take them to the priest at the temple, or some respected person. indians take the naming of a child very seriously. on top of that the meaning of those names is most important. the stigma of a name follows a child through to their adulthood.

this made me think of all the children here who either don’t get names or are named “unwanted.” can you imagine carrying something like that your whole life? the burden, the weight, the responsibility that comes with a name can be enormous here.

so the Christians turn to their pastor. especially this young mother. she graduated from their training program, her husband also I believe. and they want a good name. a name that will bring honor and blessing a name with hope for the future. a name to give him something to aspire to. for him to know that from his birth God had a plan. something special sown into the fiber of his being. my friend says she will pray and think over this very important task.

we thank our hosts and wish them well in the days to come. we step out into the light and make our way through the duty street back to our waiting vehicle. It was

a very good day

and listen

k so i had an amazing vacation.

granted it was BELOW ZERO when i started my day and crept back down there at the end…but wow.  this country is amazing…who needs an african safari…indian safari is where it is at.  we were up WAY before the sun, but it was so great…a little wind/sun burnt, but not bad all things considered, i’d say.  i sat in the back of an open gypsy jeep from 5:45am till 12:00pm.  we had breakfast out on the reserve and saw a slew of animals including but not limited to:

more birds that i could tell you about
dozens and dozens of spotted dear…the bambi kind with velvet antlers
peacocks…like 15 of them
gaur – which is like a buffalo/bison huge thing
sambar – which is like an elk/giant dear
and the tigress…awesome

a couple of thoughts from this day.  as we rode into this national park there was frost on all the grass and it was super cold and dark, but i got to watch the sun rise over india…and it was absolutely covered in FOG.  (note:  my Pastor uses this acronym to describe the Favor Of God and i couldn’t help but think of that all day.)  i teared up several times as i prayed over this beautiful country.  it was breathtaking…i have pics and video, but nothing will do it justice i’m afraid.

so, there is the fog.  even in the frost there was something incredible about it.  watching the plains, hills, mountains, trees and animals wander out of this beautiful white mist.  a new day dawns on this country that God loves.  teeth chattering as we talked about how much it felt like the u.s. but it’s still india.  that earthy smell that is unique to this place.  but here in the jungle.  protected by the government, it’s a natural, organic smell.  uncontaminated by the pollution, secluded from the chaos, nestled in the mountains and valleys of this great nation.  waiting.  waiting for the next gypsy to come by and catch a glimpse of the greatest Artist ever, brilliantly displaying some of His best work.  animals of all kinds.  deer?  I don’t know why, but I did not expect to see deer on this little jaunt in the jungle…but there they were in groups by the dozens.  amazing.

later in the day we were waiting for the tiger to come out of the jungle.  we were stopped and could hear her making her way through the underbrush.  we sat there listening to her for probably 15 min before driving on, because it sounded as if she moved away from the road.  we almost missed her because she ended up crossing right where we were and
disappeared just as quickly off toward where the guide said she had her 3 cubs.  we went around another way hoping to catch her coming towards us, but she never re-emerged.

i couldn’t help but think how sometimes we get it.  we wait and wait on the Holy Spirit but eventually get impatient and instead of waiting a little longer for God’s sovereign timing we move on…only to circle back and just catch a glimpse of what He is doing from behind.

i think that sometimes we are willing to turn off the gypsy and sit and listen, but after we listen and listen to the same rustling it’s almost like it eventually gets lost.  even in the silence.  did you really hear something?  is what you heard even what you thought it was to begin with?  is it possible that you are going nuts?  and so, eventually, we let ourselves be talked in to moving on.  the spirit isn’t really here, and even if He was, He wouldn’t choose to come out here right in front of you in broad daylight?.  no, little one, pat you on the head and send you on your way.

all that to almost miss Him completely.

so, i guess my lesson from the indian safari is just that….don’t miss Him.  don’t be so busy, so loud, so “about” the work that you miss the Reason for the work.  sometimes, all He wants is for us to turn off the jeep

and listen

untill they know

everywhere are piles of dirt and sand and rock.  stacks of brick defying the newspaper’s report that the economy is taking a downturn.  along our street alone 5 buildings are under construction.  3 more over by the hostel.  loans are not very common, so people only build as they have money.  and they are building here.

kites dancing in the sky marking the changing season.  sounds of children screaming ‘ohpahh‘ as another kite is cut from it’s lofty place.  they love to fight with their kites.

my legs crossed as i took my place on the floor in front of 70+ women and their curious children.  i shared the story of Jarius daughter and the woman with the issue of blood from Matthew 9:18-26

i sat, looking at their faces, and was overwhelmed with love for them.  these precious ladies trying to make some money of their own. what money they are able to make is theirs to do with as they see fit.  there are no ‘joint accounts’ in this culture.  so when a woman is able to make her own money she can choose where it goes.  food for the family, clothes for the children, new fabric for herself.

they are hungry for the Word of Jesus.  i asked them what they would do if they heard a man was walking down their street who could heal people.  they started to chatter.  what would people do?  what would they do?  one lady nodded understandingly throughout my talk.  i shared with them about boldy going to Jesus with their requests and having faith that He could do whatever they ask.  in these stories faith is what made them whole.

at the end i gave them the opportunity to ask the group to pray for specific things and to my surprise, many of them did.  usually they look quietly around the room and do not dare to speak, but this night was different.  several women brought their children either verbally or physically to us for prayer.  one little girl has headaches and stomach issues.  one little boy had a fever.  one mother just wanted us to pray blessing over her child.  others asked for healing for a father with paralysis.  a spouse.  a friend.  it was incredible.  so, my friend and i prayed.  we prayed specifically and generally over that sea of beauty.  deep brown eyes, sleek black hair and cocoa colored skin.   oh, how my heart bleeds for these women and their precious children.  That each of them would come to know Christ and Him alone, crucified and risen again.

for them to accept Jesus is not the difficulty.  they are quick to add any and everyone to their pantheon.  but to forsake all others for One…unheard of.  they cannot even begin to wrap their minds around this thought.  that is what makes the work here so tedious.  to break through the hundreds, no, thousands of years of pantheistic thinking.  to crush the lies of the enemy that run rampant in this place.

i sit perched in a jeep.  bumping and jolting our way back home.  we pass a gypsy camp.  a market.  a tent city.  rows and rows of trucks, sitting waiting for goods to carry to the next stop.  nested here outside of the city limits so as not to collect fines.  they are only allowed to cross in after dark.  curious…but it works for them.

and as we rumble along, i wonder…

who will come after me?

who shares the fierce love i feel for these people apart from their Savior?  who is bold?  who will step out in faith and trust Him to lead them? who will carry this torch i have until He sees fit to bring me back?

there is much to be done.  oh, there are people doing the work, make no mistake about that.  but how much more could we accomplish if we were willing to stand shoulder to shoulder?  to not be satisfied with a facebook update.  not willing to simply skim through a set of pictures. but to be co-laborers, truly.

until they not only hear

until they know

and more

today has not been my best day.  i don’t say that for your sympathy or anything…just being real.  we all have bad days, we just don’t usually talk about them that much.  after realizing that part of my problem was effort on the part of the enemy to make me feel defeated, i stopped trying so hard and prayed.  (please note i don’t always get this one right either, but today the Spirit in me prevailed.)

i was given some time alone in the house this evening and it is exactly what i needed.  some time to reflect, to listen, to absorb.  my time in india is drawing to a close all too quickly.

outside a local shop has been playing pooja long and loud all day.  i’m not sure what has prompted this side-street concert of worship to yet another lifeless god.  meanwhile, birds chirp happily.  dogs call out their territory to one another.  chipmunks chatter as they skitter from rooftop to tree.  but above it all this repetitive drumming, chanting, clinking.  it makes me think.

in just a little while on the other side of the world my local church led by my anointed Pastor will embark on another night of what we are calling the Code Orange Revival.  it’s amazing.  already people have packed out the house to hear from some of the best preachers and teachers of the gospel for a total of 12 nights.  it’s streaming on-line (although my little usb internet can’t quite keep up) and so far people have tuned in from 6 continents (those penguins in antarctica can’t seem to get it together) and all 50 states in the u.s.

i’m so excited about the training that is happening, the awakening of the body of Christ.  i am praying for each preacher, each night, each volunteer and each hearer of the word during these days.  but my greatest prayer is that it doesn’t stop on jan 22 when the lights go down and the parking lot is empty.

there is work to do.

re-enter that incessant pooja from down the street.

i am reminded today that, while i would love nothing more than to be able to participate in some way with this amazing revival, i’m right here in the heart of where the work is.  and i have four weeks.

four weeks here to make the most of every opportunity.  to invest in people, encourage, challenge…complete the work He has given me for this time.

because there are still people living in darkness, offering the best they have to…nothing…no one.  giving their worship…all day, to idols that don’t have ears to hear.

may we all have a renewed sense of urgency this year (not just in india, but wherever you are):

to humbly reach out to the lost

to boldly point them to the cross

to train up the next generation to do the same…and more

i will communicate

tonight i sat on the front porch at my friend’s house.  anointed worship dvd playing, looking out over a late afternoon in the neighborhood.  kids playing make-shift games, cows coming home – calling for their calves to follow, dogs at my feet begging for some attention…

in the relative quietness of this moment, my Savior washed over me.  i am so grateful.  i have been given a rare gift.

many are called to their own people.  i believe there is a renewed urgency among God’s people to reach out right where they are.  may they answer the call with confident boldness and never be ashamed.  some are called to leave the familiar and exchange it for a life altogether different.  i believe there is an awakening in the body for the millions who are fettered in darkness.  may they press on toward the goal of their calling with unwavering passion and never look back.

somehow, i know He is carving a unique place for me.  i am sure i am not the only one who falls within this “secret option number 3.”  i have come to believe that it does exist.

there seems to have always been a great chasm between the “foreign worker” and the “lay worker.”  why?  that singular question has been burning a hole in the corner of my mind and heart for at least three years.  we say the work done abroad is “good,” that “someone should do it.”  however, when someone does, what do we do at home?  we may hold a service, give a “love offering,” pat them on the head and send them out into the world.  but no true connection is made.  why?

out of sight out of mind?

how can the church remain one body across the continents and cultures?  what is the missing link?  we might even pull ourselves up by the bootstraps and go on a short-term trip.  then what?  briefing, culture shock, spiritual growth on steroids, debrief, re-entry…and then what?  something happens and just like that we are right back in high school the month or two after church camp with no real connection to very much of anything.

how does this happen?

what can we do to cultivate a healthy body?  how can we continue the work where we are and be an encouragement to those who have been called elsewhere?  the work of the Gospel was never meant to be done in isolation.  before you disagree with me…think about this.

the new testament is chocked full of letters to the church.  you don’t write letters to people you are with…you write to the ones who are elsewhere.  so, while paul was called to one place, God impressed upon him the needs, the failure and the successes of those parts of the body.  and so he wrote.  he was called to the work of the Gospel in jerusalem and writes to the romans, in the asia province he writes to the corinthians, in corinth he wrote to the galatians, from a roman prison he wrote to the colossians, the ephesians, the phillipians and also philemon to instruct and encourage, challenge and restore.

he wrote because he had heard either from them or about them.  if there had been email, paul would have used it.  if there were blogs…he would have had three.  if there were facebook and twitter, his posts would litter your feed.  because paul understood something about the body, about Christ and about people…

we have to communicate.

after all, isn’t that the most basic principle we get…

in the beginning was the Word

He spoke them into existence

He said to them, “Go…and preach…they will speak…”

the most common thread is communication not proximity.  the vast majority of the new testament is communication among the body.  nothing makes the knees of the enemy tremble like the Name of Jesus.  and when those who are called by His Name rise with one voice, encouraging and challenging with instruction and restoration the gates of hell are shaken.  and so, to the best of my ability, as i move into the next chapter of this journey,

i will communicate

so many things

as i sit and listen to the sing-song sound of the children thanking God for His many blessings in 2011, i can’t help but be challenged by the overflow of their spirit.  they have so many things for which to be thankful – what a perspective.  would that i could pour out at the end each year such a sacrifice of praise to my Savior.

we had a winter rain tonight.  it has been very cold, but last night it warmed up quite a bit.  all day today was cloudy and late in the day it started to sprinkle.  the power flickered off and on all evening – perhaps in attempt to keep the celebration under control as we usher in a new year.

as evening gives way to night it is damp.  the occasional fire cracker fizzles in the distance.  the lullaby of mummy’s voice continues to count her blessings to the group while the smaller children fall asleep.

the power is out again.  older boys scramble to get battery operated lights. kids continue to stand in the dark and thank God in detail for all He has done this year.  another fire cracker.

it’s humid.  without the whir of the fan the moisture of the day hangs in the night air.  it is black outside.  the crickets chirp in perfect unison.  the generator beeps in complaint at being called on yet again.  the kids begin to whisper.  my sweet girl smiles widely as she gives her thanks, a soft glow of candlelight on her face.  she is beautiful – honest in her gratitude.

how can i leave this place?  how can i go back?  when will You allow me to return?  how long must i be separated from these precious people?  the undulation of their speech.  the glint of sequins and shimmer of metallic threads.  the smell of dust and earth in the air.  these children that were so small and now have grown to young men and women…teaching a new generation the wonders of Your mighty love.

in a country where someone always seems to be celebrating something it is rare that everyone celebrates anything all at once.  new year is the exception.  now, in my house, the smell of smoke and firecrackers, damp dirt and matches drifts through the every crack and cranny.  from right outside my gate to kilometers away i can here the pop and crackle of thousands putting one year to rest and birthing a new one in it’s place.

nobody celebrates like india.

as i reflect not only on this night but on the many nights of the last year i can’t help but be in awe of how much He has done, not only here, in this place, but in me.  the vast expanse of one.  the depth of the other.  He is the author and perfecter….incredible.

so as the chain reaction of new year’s spreads from one side of the globe to the other, i am humbled, prayerful, thankful…

and so many things.

happy new year, the best is yet to come.