New Year, New Dreams

I picked up a book called the Last Arrow at my in-laws over the holidays. I am pretty sure the book is meant for fifty-year-old men, nonetheless I sat in the bath with a glass of wine and cried my eyes out. It was just what I needed. This last season has been hard and confusing and sometimes I just wanted to retreat because it sure seemed like we were losing the battle.

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Jesus wept + so do I

He wants me, all of me. He wants my fidgeting hands and tear weld eyes. He wants my brokenness, that is where He loves to shine. His power is made perfect in my weakness. Grieving does not mean I am not trusting, in fact transformational and healing grieving require trust. Who would let their insides pour out if they did not trust the goodness of the one in front of whom they stood? Distrust causes us to stuff pain deep within, trust in Christ is an invitation for weeping.

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Gheralta Guide: The Rock-Hewn Churches of Ethiopia

You don’t have to be a person of the Orthodox faith to enjoy this deeply spiritual pilgrimage past pastoral farms, up through canyon walls and into the mountains in search of these ancient treasures. The physical act of hiking to these hidden churches mirrors for me the life-long journey of the pilgrimage toward God. It is a unique opportunity to see yourself, away from the busyness of routine and habit, as you climb up into the ancient mysteries that these mountains hold.

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Bringing Back the Wonder of Life Abroad

I remember when my husband and I drove fifteen hours from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, to our new home in the north. I loved every minute of the heat, the god-forsaken hotel, and the lack of water when we arrived at our new home. I vividly remember thinking, “I am the luckiest person in the world that I get to have this life.” Fast-forward six months to a year later, and guess who was crying? ME. Read the rest of this post on the Taking Route Blog. 

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