greater than i.

gosh what a weird, sucky week it’s been. everyone keeps going on & on about how lucky i am to be home/ how nice it is to be back/ how good it feels to just listen to silence and be alone and do nothing. basically everyone that’s out of school has just gone on & on about how much they love being home/being on summer & i feel super awkward that i dont entirely share the same sentiment. while i DO love summer and i DO love my home, there is a part of me that is ready for this isolation to be over. i miss being constantly surrounded by people & having conversation & doing my own thing & feeling old/independent. i have felt pretty damn independent the last few weeks but a different, not-as-fun kind of independent. more like an “oh, i’m home alone in this house/buying groceries/doing laundery” kinda independent. which i guess is typical for like the majority of the world. those of us that are home have been joking around that we are just the “has-been’s” that can’t get enough of the valley. but like, let’s be real— a lot of that is true. coming from a place that we are SO defined by, it’s awkward/weird to be back, no longer a part of the things that defined us. if that even makes sense. it’s like this weird limbo of HEY i used to go to this school, HEY i used to dance here, HEY i used to babysit your kids la da da that i feel like i’m still a part of, but i’m really not. 

dang, maybe it’s just this week, but i’ve gotten REAL SICK of my new independent/forever alone status. i’ve just had this gross, holding back tears every second feeling ALL WEEK which is SO annoying and so so unnecessary. maybe it’s the fact that my family is gone so it’s just me and the cat. or that i wasn’t working as much this week & just had huge lengths of time to be by myself & think. or maybe i was just so used to seeing people and talking every day that it’s weird to not have someone ask me how i’m doing like multiple times a day. or that being alone so much just causes me to fall back into the same old(ish) bad habits that i KNOW are unhealthy and unnecessary. something about being here/being alone magnifies em. or that nearly every human interaction has solely consisted on either reminiscents (is that a thing? aka talking about the past..) or discussing school/what i’ve been doing the past year. which is fine. it just feels like a big game of catch-up and i’m ready for everyone to be caught up so we can go on livin lyfffffe. i just feel weirdly disconnected from people/the world. WHATEVZ. when i hang out with people or talk with them on the phone, i dread leaving/hanging up/ending text conversations because it just magnifies the whole, I’M BY MYSELF thing.

SHOOT this sounds like way more depressing than it really is!! like way more. because it’s seriously FINE and a few bad days does not equal a bad summer! it’s really okay. it’s the tiredness talking. there are good things to come, REAL SOON. like, i’m sure god is trying to teach me some thingz through this. i should probably look into that. since when do i hate being alone?

ew, so many “likes”

i had the scariest/weirdest dream last night!! it was literally the most vivid thing ever. i was late signing up for classes for my fall semester, so i had to add some random ones just to fill requirements. I ended up signing up for working in the nursery (?). When i started working, they were working on doing a medical demonstration & wanted me to be a part of it. They were going to put us in stressful situations & we had to use our given supplies to save lives. All of a sudden, i was in a warzone! the first girl’s heart had stopped, and so i injected it with insulin to start it again. bodies were piling up & i was the only one working on saving them. soon, it was night & all my friends were coming out of their classes & watching me try to save all these people. eventually, all us soldiers were tired, so we settled in for bed. there was a 24 hour watchman with a huge gun that was supposed to protect us at night if there was an attack. we slept out in the open, like in a big field, and i was in the first row, closest to our opposition. in the middle of the night, the other side started to run over to attack. we (my row) thought it would be a good idea to pretend we were asleep, so i just hid under my blanket. i ended up being stabbed in my hip multiple times, but i didn’t realize it at the time. eventually, the attack was over and most of us were still alive. in the morning, our leader told us we had to run a marathon as punishment, so we all got up to run. i couldnt get my blanket off of me, because the multiple stabs/torn up flesh was making the blanket stick to me (gross). I tried to run but i kept getting distracted by my mom. She kept running up to me and showing off her new eyebrows—she had very obviously colored them in with what looked to be a sharpie. they looked terrible, but i felt awkward and couldn’t tell her so. meanwhile, my blanket was still stuck to my hip.

mmm nyquil dreams. 

your love never fails. // in any situation, your love is bigger, your love is present, your love wins //

never gives up.//when i dont want it, when i dont acknowledge it, when i ignore it…you persist. even if the world does, you never forget, you never stop caring, you never stop loving, you never stop accepting//

never runs out on me. //even when i forget. even when i mess up—again. there are no first chances, second chances, last chances. just your love, constantly running to pick us up. again and again and again, it never stops. it never ever runs dry or gets tired of loving, supporting, surrounding us//

on & on & on & on it goes. for it overwhelms & satisfies my soul. and i never ever have to be afraid, because one thing remains. your love.

dang. thank you lord that you still speak to me through old, over-used songs. that you can speak to me through simple words, simple truths. that you speak to me at all. 

i’ve actually started writing like seven different posts in the past week, but never finished any. i’ve just had a billlion and a half thoughts running around my head for the past few weeks and zero motivation//time to catch any of them. let’s see if this one makes it out of the gate.

i moved out of my dorm today. 
i officially finished my freshman year of college & it didn’t really hit me. i still don’t think it has. maybe it won’t? i started packing up on sunday, partly to put off studying; mostly to divide up the “sad” part of the packing process so that it would never actually be sad. i like sad things, but i tend to make innocently un-sad things too sad. i need to be strategic about that, hence the drawn-out packing. even though i tried to be sneaky about it, my week was not void of tears. i bid farewell to friends on wednesday and cried, because i will miss them. i reflected on the year by reading old journals (actually, i was just procrastinating with anything i could find), and cried, because it was weirdly sad. i took down letter after letter, picture after picture from my walls and cried….mostly because i always feel like i’m in a sad music video when i do stuff like that. people always cry in sad music videos. i watched paranormal activity and nearly cried because SHOOOT that ish is crazy and every emotion of mine somehow filters into tears. i reminisced on the year with a dear dear friend and cried, mostly because my life will be tragically void of her hugs and witty comments for four months. i said goodbye to wonderful friends through annoying tears, because sometimes crying is the only way i can really relay my love for them. i packed up, locked up, and peaced out to my freshman year in the dorms//apu//college and cried…because i hate change. i cried because i found it SO SILLY that i was crying so much! i cried because my “freshman year of college” was finished, and i would never experience it again. 


the hall i’ve lived on for the past nine months of my life is full of posters. one in particular, i have read every day, and adopted it as the theme of my year. you will never be in this season of life again: embrace it. i understand it now. i see it.

today, i got into the passenger side of our classy mini-van in azusa and stepped into solvang, three hours later. i moved an armful, a car-ful, a year-ful of my boxed life into my room and was left with the task of unpacking. instead, i just sat and cried (we all knew it was coming). i cried like i hadn’t yet. i cried because god is SO GOOD to me. i cried because the kenzie that left solvang for azusa nine months ago is completely different than the kenzie that just left azusa for solvang. god rocked my world this year, and i had no idea it was going to happen. i’ve never felt so lonely, and i’ve never felt so loved as i have this year. god took my expectations and shot them down, shook them up, and gave me a year that looked entirely different than i expected. he carefully placed people in my life to speak truths into areas that i’ve been believing lies. he carefully placed people in my life, period. let’s talk about that! how i hated school in the beginning, and thought there was something wrong with me in the way that i disliked college. the fact that i was convinced, CON VINCED that i would make no friends (or at least real ones) or sense any feeling of community EVER was completely turned on me. my sparse but strong friendships this year have impacted my life in wonderful ways, and the community i feel at apu was something that i literally thought would never happen. god is SO GOOD, jeez. he stripped down my shaky little faith and let it hang out in the sun for a few iffy//trying weeks (months?), then helped me piece it back together, stronger and stronger. you’re only going to be in this season of life once, kenz. embrace it. i’m teaching you something. loneliness. confusion. rejection. stillness. uncomfortability. independence. grace. old lessons, re-learned a billion times. doubt. joy. laughter. death. travels. friends. roommates. classes. mexico. bitterness. inadequacy. fulfillment. in every single little detail of what has happened this year, i can see jesus teaching me. i can literally see the seasons that i’ve been through, seen his hand in it all, and seen how they have positively affected me (even though they felt aw FULL at the time).

i cried as i looked at my freshman year scattered across my solvang room, because i can see god’s hand in all of it. it is finished, but it really isn’t. god isn’t through with me yet, and he isn’t through with you yet! there are many more seasons to be embraced, many more lessons to be learned. i cried because god is so faithful and i am so forgetful. i cried because my college experience was way outside the norm, and i wouldn’t have had it any other way. i cried because god is too good to me, his plans are ALWAYS better, he is ALWAYS there. i cried because i’m overwhelmed by the thought of it all. i cried because i don’t know how else to express my appreciation and awe and love for this process. 

so. much. love. 






NO MORE CRYING OR REMINISCING FOR KENZIE. i’m good for like a few years now. 

oh mexico.

i went into the trip without expectations. actually, i hadn’t put too much thought into the trip at all: i was a last-minute add to the team, i was pre-occupied with school, i trusted that things would work out & i would worry about them as they came. i didn’t want to talk or think about it too much because i didn’t want expectations. i didn’t want it to just be another facebook album. i went in prayerfully, but my heart wasn’t ready. my heart wasn’t ready to be completely transformed & captivated by this charming little orphanage full of beautifully unique, crazy, loving kids. my heart wasn’t ready for new friendships and to be blessed by a team full of people that made me appreciate my school & my God more than I ever have. my heart wasn’t ready to be once again challenged and changed by a God that is ever-changing, yet unchangeable.

 

i have a weird view on short-term missions trips. i love them, i understand we are called to be lights…but i get wary about them. these trips are such a huge part of christian culture—and that’s what scares me. i think it’s easy to go in as little santa clauses—bearing toys and games and attention, leaving after a week and returning the next year. i think its easy  to pat ourselves on the back for giving up our breaks, enduring foreign food & weather, putting ourselves in unsanitary and less than ideal situations while the rest of our friends are off having fun on their breaks. i think it’s easy to talk about how God worked and changed us, but it’s hard to let that permeate our lives: affect our actions, change how we live. i get scared of serving God through missions because i don’t want to go in with dishonest intentions. 

when i went to mexico in high school, God rocked my world. i became obsessed with serving his people across the world with selling my possessions and letting him lead me wherever he wanted. i took the verses about feeding his children, caring for the widows and orphans literally…and i thought that uganda was in his plan for me. i was ready, my heart was full, my bags were packed…but God had a different plan. Not yet, Kenzie. Not now. I’m teaching you something, don’t miss it. I need you here. You can love here just as well as you will love there.  

and thus i stayed here. and i’ve been scared to leave—scared that i would glamorize missions. scared that i would go, be changed, and forget. scared that i would live out hypocrisy by loving people on other ends of the world before loving the people living right next to me. scared that i would make it about me and not about Him. 

but last friday, i boarded a white van full of extroverted, crazy people that i didn’t really know, unsure if i had packed all i needed, unsure if Mexico was where God wanted me. And while I was there, God once again changed my heart. I was unsure if i was equipped enough—God worked through that uncertainty. I don’t think any of us are ever ready, by our own measure. I left mexico with an overwhelming love and appreciation for it’s people. i met some of the most beautiful hearts working and living at the orphanage. i was captivated by the little voices and hands and sweet smiles of the kids, perfectly content playing in the dirt with broken toys, painting walls with old t-shirts, playing and laughing with the weird american kids that came, speaking in broken BUH-ROKEN spanish. i left mexico with a great appreciation for mexico outreach and my school and the thousands of people listening and following God’s call in their lives. 

a lot about this trip was black and white. here’s what i know: in mexico, it was easy to love the kids at una rosa. it was easy to love my team. it was hard to find joy in our conditions. it was hard to not laugh off the very high school-esque worship and sermons. it was hard to bear porta potties and collapsed tents and dirty scalps and smelly clothes without complaining. it was easy to count off the days until we could shower again. it was hard to leave. so hard. 

just the same, a lot about this trip was grey. a lot about this trip challenged my faith, changed my mindset and put my attitude in check. how is it that only a border and a few hundred miles separate two completely different worlds, cultures, socio-economic statuses and people? how is it that i get to come to a dorm room full of clothes i don’t wear, unnecessary books and crafts and accessories and thingamajigs that i don’t look at twice, while millions of people are living in houses made of styrofoam and cardboard? how is it that there are an estimated ten million orphans just in mexico, and i can somehow justify complaining about my parents? how is it that it’s easy to forget about Jesus while on a missions trip? 

 

this past week is something that i’m still trying to process….and i’m thanking God for that. i don’t want to forget & i don’t want to stop & i don’t want to just add it to my long list of missions/camp-like experiences. i don’t want my profile picture to be the only thing to change. God is good, this i know. God is SO so freaking faithful that it makes me want to cry. God is calling and equipping. God is working in mexico and he is working through the huge band of misfits that treck down in huge mini vans to serve him. God is working through my bad attitudes and worldly mindsets. God is making beautiful things out of the dust, out of us, and out of me. and for that, i am thankful.