Tonight, I am reminded of a story of a missionary who climbed a tree in the night to escape people who were trying to kill him. They were the people he was trying to minister to. He so sweetly said that he had never felt closer to God than in that moment of great loneliness and darkness up in that tree.

Lord knows I live for people’s approval. And so far in the year of 2017, he is ripping my reliance on these- anything that is other than Him.

As I am surrounded by the dark night and running to safety in that high tree, I am praying to God to help me feel closer to Him just like that missionary.

But sometimes you have no words to say, and thus your prayer is inaudible and unspoken. And I think that is completely okay.

No matter what sorrow fills your marrow,  whatever happens today or tomorrow,

rejoice in the Lord in your silence

trust in Him in His seeming silence

for pain may remain for the night

but joy will come in the morrow.

for Loving Me

Today, I was leaving my friend’s house, and the 13 month old baby walked to me and hugged me. D: like what. So adorable… He was sad to see me go, and he wouldn’t let go of me. At one point he hit his forehead on my knee, and I’ve seen him and his dad bump foreheads before as a sign of affection.

I’m not the best with babies, so he is my first baby friend. 🙂 What did I ever do to deserve his love?! Nothing. Thanks for showing me grace, little baby, even on the hardest days.

“This Land is Your Land, This Land is My Land”

A conversation in November:

Me: I hate when (white) people ask me where I’m from… I was born in America. -.-
Dad replied with advice about how it doesn’t matter. He was trying to be reasonable and diplomatic .
Me: But I really hate it. It’s so annoying. I hate being treated like a foreigner when I’m an American. *angry rant* Did you know that after the election, a white guy threw his coffee at a Korean American guy and yelled at him to go back to his country?
Dad: Well, then tell the white people to go back to their country. This land was first the Native American’s.

Thinking of this conversation as we mourn over what’s happening at Standing Rock.