Day 25... well day 24... who gets the credit for us?

As I write this at 12:48am, I'm realizing that I indeed am at 24 days and not 25! Today at 10am, we are going to get our marriage license. This little piece of paper has lots of stipulations on it: you have to get it over 48 hours BEFORE you can wed, but it cannot exceed 30 days before your wedding. You must bring both persons and passports in order to get this small paper as well as cash only to pay for it. All this to get a little piece of paper that says you are now connected forever.
I thought today would be a good day to discuss all the people who swore this would happen WAY before either of us ever let it enter our minds. In 2003, my middle school girls, at summer camp were convinced that one day I would be Mrs. Steven Rungaitis. So, Kathryn Ryan, Paige Hennington, Rachel Malecek, Kimmie Cockcroft, Rachel King and a host of other 12-year-old, now 21-year-old girls put money on the fact that we would one day be in marital bliss. I, of course laughed it off.
When my mom met Steven for the first time in 2005, she thought he was a FINE catch and that I should set my sights on him. I told her that if she was so set on him, SHE should marry him. That ended that discussion.
Then comes my good ol' roommate and best friend, Allison. In 2007, she stated matter-of-factly that I would indeed marry Steven. I told her that was impossible since I didn't like him. She stated, again in a calm tone that YES I would marry him. And I responded in an irritated fashion that I would not. And yet a third time she said, "It doesn't matter what you say, you're going to marry him." In my anger, I yelled at her, told her I would NOT marry him and slammed my bedroom door.
And then came that day in July of 2009 when Steven asked me in regards to our future, "So where do you see us down the road?" I answered him as sure as I have ever been about anything in my life: "I want to marry you, Steven Rungaitis." That's when I knew.
Good thing God's plans don't have time restriction on them, like our silly marriage license... Good thing God does things in his way, on his time line.
That's another thing I love about Steven... he waited on the Lord's perfect timing.
So really the LORD is the only one who can take the credit... sorry girls.

Day 26... how many cups of coffee?

When your foot is shaking too bad to drive a stick shift, you know you have had too many cups of coffee.
From the first summer until present day, our favorite thing to do is sit and drink coffee together. Once, Steven and I sat at Ihop and drank coffee for hours. We drank pot after pot, laughing and telling stories. We would silently (or not so silently) chuckle at all the funny people who walked through the doors at 1am. This was the first, but not the last time that I had a hard time driving home due to the massive amount of caffeine pumping through my body!
After a few summers we upgraded to Cafe Brazil and finally to closing out Starbucks. With every cup of coffee, I learned more about Steven... the things that made him laugh, made him tick, made me smile.
One day Steven called me to drink coffee when I was already at Starbucks, so I told him to just meet me there. Before he arrived, a guy sitting near me started talking to me and asking me questions. Needless to say, he was not too happy about Steven's arrival, which he did not bother to hide. Steven joined in on the conversation like he had been there all along. I couldn't help but hold back a smirk as I watched this guy's face go from thinking he had a chance to realizing he had none.
Over the years we have probably shared 1,000 cups of coffee. We just love hanging out and we always have. There are very few people that I enjoy being with as much as I love being with Steven. He's my best friend. I love that about him.

Day 29 reminds me of May 29th...

When thinking of what story to tell for today (day 29), I thought it only fitting to tell of some of our birthday experiences together (May 29th being my birthday).
If you know me at all, birthdays are a BIG deal. I love birthdays! When my 21st birthday rolled around, I was working at Prince of Peace and hadn't made a lot of friends yet in the Dallas area. Since I was doing youth ministry, I had opted out of drinking for my 21st, so Steven said he would take me to a movie instead.
As we went to purchase our tickets, the lady asked me how old I was. I thought it was a little strange, but told her that today was my 21st birthday. She looked surprised and then told me that I needed to show ID. In my confused state, I didn't realize it was because it was an R-rated movie and she didn't believe that I was over 17!
We both laughed (though I do believe Steven laughed a little harder!)...
That's always been us: we love to laugh.

30 Days and counting...

Since day 150, I've been counting down. To be honest, I just can't help it. I decided in these last 30 days, I want to share some stories that maybe you've never heard. Steven and I have have known each other for 8 years, been in 5 different countries together, spent countless hours with teenagers and even more over cups of coffee laughing and telling stories. So for those who only know us apart, I thought I'd give you a little insight into some of our fun together.

Let's call this one: Middle School Camp...
My very first summer in Dallas, Steven offered, or rather got tricked into helping me at middle school camp. Between us, I believe we had 20 crazy kids to chase after and try to keep them from killing each other. If you know Steven at all, you know that he has a real way with pushing boys to step it up. That was probably the first character quality I saw in Steven that really intrigued me. Steven has a way about him that guys respect... not out of fear, but out of a gentle strength.
One of the boys on that trip had never made it through an entire week at camp. He would either freak out and be sent home or refuse to speak. He refused to be involved in the games or to participate in any way. Every time I pushed him he would retreat further into himself, so I finally just let him do what he wanted.
As per usual, he chose to sit out when the kids were playing tug-o-war. We had a bunch of girls and a couple small boys, so of course we were losing. Steven, standing next to this kid, leaned over and said, "They need your help." The kid flippantly said, "They don't need me." Steven responded, "They won't win unless you are their anchor." My mouth dropped open as this kid, who I couldn't get to do ANYTHING walked over, grabbed the rope, put it around his waist and pulled them to victory.
Over the course of that week, I saw Steven willing make a fool out of himself to get others involved. I saw him eat the most disgusting concoction just to get a rise out of the boys and I saw a gentle leader. At one point, I was freaking out and I said, "Steven make the decision for me!" And he looked at me in his calm Steven way and said, "I can do it for you if you want, but you're in charge of these kids and I believe you can do it." I loved that he was willing to step in for me, but believed wholeheartedly that I had the ability to do whatever I put my mind to.
That's what I learned about Steven at middle school camp... and I am still following that gentle leader.

Let your glory fall...

Glory... have you ever stopped to think what it means when we say "His glory fell" or "Be glorified in me" or the millions of other ways we throw around the word glory?
I hadn't... until yesterday. In his sermon, Matt laid out the mission statement of the church and when he came to the part that says, "That God would be glorified" he began to explain what that meant.
If you have a huge boulder at the edge of a cliff with a puddle of water at the bottom, and you push it over, what will happen to the water? It will spray everywhere. The water will be changed. It has no choice because the weight of the rock forces it to be changed.
The glory of the Lord is the same. Glory means weight or heaviness. So when we ask for his glory to fall, we are asking for his weight to fall on us. The problem is, many of us see God as a concept. If you see God as a concept and not a reality, you are heavier than God. Some people think that the glory of the Lord is like a glass of water and I am like a rock that it falls on. He is only a concept, so He can be molded and manipulated into being whatever I want (or don't want) his to be.
If I allow the true weightiness of His Glory to fall on me, I have no choice but to be changed. May I be crushed under the heaviness of Him so there will be less of me and more of him.

It's time...

On my way to school the other day, God laid something on my heart and then wouldn't let it go. My purpose for being at my job. When my job isn't ministry related, I find it easy to walk in, do my job and leave... affecting no one's life and having no one affect mine. I'm just doing my job, right? Wrong.
As I sat down to coffee with one of my friends here at work, she explained to me that every day teachers were coming into this building broken, alone and lost, only to put on a smile and act happy for the kiddos they teach. They put it all out on the line for these kids. They give their heart, soul and every bit of strength they have to teach these kids and show them the love of Jesus. So, who's putting it on the line for them?
That's where Jesus began to pull on my heart strings... to be the one who would battle for the teachers as they battle for the hearts and souls of these precious ones.
I think back to the women who have commited to praying for me. My grandmas and mom who prayed me through my childhood (and on!), my mentor who prayed me through high school, ladies in my church who prayed me through college, women who literally prayed me through my trials in Ecuador, and finally older godly women who prayed an amazing man into my life. They battled for me when I couldn't do it for myself. They may have never stepped a foot onto foreign soil or crossed paths with crazy high school kids, but if not for their prayers, neither would I.
So maybe now its my turn. Maybe I won't ever step foot into a classroom to touch the lives of these children, but maybe its my turn to go to bat for the ones who do. As I began to ask the teachers their prayer requests, I began to see what's really going on. Getting involved in people's lives is messy business, but by the grace of God I'll battle for them like some many have done for me.

Love the honesty...

Question from teacher: What's your cat's name?
Answer from 4-year-old: Heartflowerstar

Question from 4-year old to teacher: Are you Hispanic?
Answer from white teacher: No
(Puzzled look from 4 year old...)
Question: Are you black?
Answer: No
(Even MORE puzzled look...)
Question: Then what are you??

There are just a few tidbits of the conversations I have (or hear about) on a daily basis. Yesterday was a story that blessed my heart. While M'Kayla was waiting for her mom to show up with her gym clothes, she started the barrage of questions. The first of which was: what did you do before you came here. No sooner had the words, Missionary in Ecuador come out of my mouth that she launched into her 11-year-old travels.
"I've been to Mexico on a mission trip! We went to help poor children and to play with them. I have a picture of me and my friends from when we went!" She continued on in the most precious way, to tell me how her parents wanted to take her and her 2 siblings on a mission trip to Guatemala. As I listened to her and saw her face light up as she talked about her Mexican friends, I started to think to myself, How many ADULTS don't even understand this? We serve out of LOVE for friends, not out of obligation to help "THOSE" people.

I love the things these kids teach me...

Come and See!

Say to God: "How great are your works! All the earth will worship you and sing praise to you; they will sing praise to your Name." Come and see what God has done!

No news is good news. Why do we say that? Because when it comes to letting people know what's going on with us, it is much easier to gossip, speak ill of someone or say how we've been hurt. The words that come across our lips are much more likely to be negative than possitive.
As I read psalm 66 this morning, it not only said: How great are your works, it went on to TELL of his great works... how the Israelites crossed the red sea on dry ground and how God came through from them time and time again.
But it doesn't stop with the Israelite. Jesus himself said to those who wanted to know who he was and what he did: Come and See! Paul tells us to TASTE and see that the Lord is good. His desire is not that we would stand at a distance, but that we would engage with the Holy One; that we would come to the place of stepping out, jumping in and seeing with our own eyes the goodness of the Lord.
So here's to God! The One who brought the sun up this morning and gave us the coolness of morning. Here's to God: who gave us friendship and laughter. Here's to God: who is with us when things are good and when we can't take one more step. Here's to God: who without Him, my life would be in utter shambles due to my own pride and stubborness.
So I will stop loving at a distance. I will stop observing what other people are talking about and I will choose to ENGAGE. With my lips I will praise him and call others to the same: Come and see what the Lord has done!

My daddy's hand...

My dad's birthday is tomorrow, but since he is currently in China, it is tomorrow! This is my tribute to the best dad a little girl could ever ask for...

One of the most vivid memories I have as a child is holding my daddy's hand. After being pulled out of my car seat, a finger would descend in front of my face and I would grab on. I knew that wherever I was being led was a safe place because of the hand that led me. But, I always thought I was holding onto him, I never realized he was holding me. He held me when tears streamed down my small cheeks. He held me after much needed disciple and after my heart got broken.
The older I've gotten, the more I've realized that he's had to get good at not just holding on, but letting go: the goodbyes as I walked through the door of my college dorm. The long hugs before I stepped foot on the plane to Ecuador. But none of these moments will compare to the moment when he says: "Her mother and I do"... and puts my hand into the hand of another. What will flash through my memory in that instant are the moments I've been held.
Thank you Dad, for being willing to holding me with laughter and through tears... and for your willingness to let go and entrust me to our Heavenly Father. I love you!

4 stories... one theme

A big tough business guy, an ex-druggy from Kentucky, a good girl, and a west african man who used to practice voodoo. These were the four who stood up in front of our church yesterday to confess their love of Jesus before they walked through the waters of baptism.
I was amazed as I heard their stories: each unique and completely opposite, but with the same ending... Jesus saving them from their complete and utter depravity in the face of a holy and awesome God.
On the face of the first guy was a look of total control, but as he went on to describe what the Lord has done in his life, humility overtook him. He said, "Humility is not one of my strong suites, but I stand before you humbled because of God's grace."
As the next lady entered the waters with her husband, she gave a sweet testimony of how she was raised in the church and always throught her testimony was ordinary, but recently God has revealed how his grace is never ordinary. One thing I love about our church is that each one is baptized by someone who has lead them in their walk with the Lord. As the husband took his wife by the hand, I was overwhelmed by the picture of our Great Bridegroom who leads us to the waters from wherever we have been.
Up next was a West African man from Benin. English was not his first language, so it took some consentration to understand what he was saying. I know what its like to speak in front of people in your second language and it is terrifying, so I was really impressed. He shared with us how he grew up in a place where witchcraft and voodoo ran his life. He began to have a reoccuring nightmare of people flying around him while he was on the ground burning. He went to every witch-doctor and paid any price to be rid of the dream, but to no avail. Finally, he met a Christian man who invited him to church. After he had gone to church several times, the dream left him, but that did not mean that he was done with church. His friend shared the gospel with him and he came to know the saving grace of Jesus Christ.
Last, but not least was Kentucky... which was how he was announced,though it was not his name, just his place of origin. He spoke matter-of-factly about his past life in drugs and alcohol. He told us of his rehabilitation, but that it came with a lack of peace. When he moved to Dallas, he met a bunch of guys from the Village who spoke truth into his life and shared the gospel with him. This is where the straight-face stopped and the tears began to flow as his voice waved. "Jesus saved me by his grace."
I share these stories today to remind you to share yours. Whether good, bad or ugly, God has given us a story to tell, but they all should end the same, He saved me by His grace and for that, I am forever thankful!