I wrote the following post a year ago today. (One of my favorite things about blogging is how it becomes a living record of where you have been, what you have done, and what you felt.)

In some ways I am still struggling with this sense of unease. And in some ways I am finally seeing what God was doing in me.

I don’t know really what it is. But something is definitely going on with me.

Probably the best way to explain it is to say I just don’t feel like myself. I feel like a stranger in my own skin. Or more accurately, I don’t feel like I am the same girl that I was last year, last week, or even last night.

I am smack dab in the middle of a season of change.

I am experiencing the pains that are representative of growth, but I can’t quite see the changes in the mirror. What used to fit now feels strangely uncomfortable like last year’s skinny jeans but I haven’t figured out what alternations need to be made to embrace the transformed me.

So here I sit in limbo land, not comfortable living in the past and not sure what the future holds, yet feeling strangely encouraged. Encouraged because I am confident that my discomfort is a road sign reassuring my path; my trepidation is a herald of the extraordinary adventure that lies ahead; my anxiousness a reminder that I am fully living in the present.

And I refuse to be a hostage to my past or my future.

“And so we are transfigured much like the Messiah, our lives gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him.” – 2 Corinthians 3:18 from The Message

Does any of this sound familiar to you? This kind of unfamiliar and scary, but exhilarating spell of change?

Yesterday it struck me how critical it is to walk through life with inspiring friends.

EVERY DAY I am inspired by one of my friends. They show me how to love. They encourage me to dream big dreams. They shift my focus from fear and inadequacy to possibility and potential. They are a constant reminder that there are no such thing as extraordinary people, only ordinary people doing extraordinary things.

Spence is an Iron Man (just thinking about it makes me tired).

Keely travels around the world capturing stories of poverty and hope with her camera.

Jenni strives to empower, challenge, and encourage women leaders.

Justin and Trish bravely share their season of struggle with unbelievable candor and grace so others can learn from their mistakes.

(I am keeping this to a short list, but I could go on and on, and on and on.)

It is this simple. If you don’t have friends who inspire you, you need to find some new friends.

Right now. They will change your life. They will change your life for good.

How are your friends inspiring you?

I returned from Guatemala two weeks ago. Wow…two weeks…14 days…336 hours. In some ways it seems like just yesterday, in other ways it seems like a lifetime ago.

On Friday, Shaun Groves sent an email to the Compasssion Bloggers Guatemala team.

I’ve been laying low, reading your posts, praying for you from a distance but now I’m gonna put my nose back in your bid’ness and pry a little: How’s everybody doing?

It took my two days to respond to his not so subtle nudging. And still my response was stilted.

It is not that I felt uncomfortable exposing my thoughts…or feelings. It is just that I don’t know quite know what I am thinking…or feeling. Ugh.

How. Am. I. Doing?

I can’t quite say.

But I can say this.

Today I witnessed the incredible effects of the work Compassion does. Again.

I had the opportunity to hang out with two Leadership Development Program students, Ben (27) from Kenya and Richmond (30) from Uganda. They are seemingly ordinary young men that were unleashed from poverty through Compassion’s Child Sponsorship Program. And then taught to chase extraordinary dreams through Compassion’s Leadership Development Program.

It was an incredible couple of hours.

We laughed about college football. Unfortunately Ben is a misguided A&M fan.

We compared fruit. I guess there are some crazy bananas in Uganda that will get you on-the-floor drunk?

We talked about dreams. In the spring, Richmond will return home to get married to Sheila, pastor his community, and equip other pastors all over Africa. This fall, Ben will go on tour with with Amy Grant to share first-hand the importance of the LDP program.

And we marveled at the lives changed by generous men and women who provide for hundreds of thousands of Compassion children. Generous men and women who are playing a critical role in unleashing children from poverty and unlocking their dreams.

I hope that I never forget the stories of these young men. I hope that I never forget the opportunity we have to love on our neighbors around the world.

So…How’s everybody doing?

Sometimes my singleness feels like a curse, a crazy-never-ending-not-sure-what-is-wrong-with-me-but-surely-it-is-something-obvious-why-won’t-anyone-tell-me curse.

But lately instead of pouting, struggling, fighting through this season of singleness, I have been dwelling on the opportunities this season provides. I have been shifting from a posture of doubt, frustration, and impatience to a posture of trust, privilege, and hope. I have been focusing on the possibility instead of the potentially shattered dreams. Because in all reality…

My season of singleness gives me freedom, time, and resources that I can invest however I choose.

My season of  singleness creates an aching hunger for intimacy with Christ.

My season of singleness is my constant reminder that He is in control, that He has a plan, and that He makes everything beautiful in its time.

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end. Ecclesiastes 3:11 (New International Version)

What season are you battling now? What does it make possible?

TODAY is my 34th birthday. I am not sharing this information so that I am sure to receive a slew of “birthday graffiti” on my wall but rather so I can process how I feel about getting ANOTHER YEAR OLDER.

I am fine. Really I am…just fine.

It is just another day. In another year…just another day.

I guess the best way to get comfortable with the oh-so-ugly-and-getting-uglier math is to look at this day as a milestone, to celebrate what was accomplished in the year behind, and to look forward to what lies in the year ahead.

So here’s to 33….

A year of visiting beautiful golf resorts. (In the last 12 months, I visited Pebble Beach, Pine Hurst, Lost Pines, and Sunriver and to think I don’t even golf. Maybe I need to take a lesson or two?)

A year of reading insightful books. (The five with the greatest impact on me were A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Chasing Francis, Crazy Love, Plan B, and The Me I Want to Be.)

A year of attending thought-provoking conferences. (Catalyst, Blissdom, O’Reilly Tools of Change for Publishing, Catalyst West, Q, and The Building Champions Experience…just to name a few. Okay, maybe I am a conference junkie.)

A year of embracing “life-changing” opportunities.

A year of rather random but wonderful routines.

A year of asking tough questions.

A year of unabashedly claiming my dreams and pursuing them.

And a year of cultivating incredibly authentic and energizing friendships.

Friends, you made this year beautiful, absolutely beautiful.

Thank you.

I look forward to spending THIRTY FOUR with you.

How do you do with whole birthday thing?

Two weeks from tomorrow I will head to Atlanta for Catalyst East.

Love. It.

Seriously, I can’t wait. I can’t wait to caravan down with friends. I can’t wait to be inspired. I can’t wait to hear some of today’s best speakers talk about issues that are relevant to me, my church, my leadership, and my faith.

I can’t wait to see old friends.

And I am even excited to meet a few new friends.

Here are a few of the Catalyst events I am especially looking forward to…

On Wednesday evening, I am attending Brad Ruggles’ Bloggers Meetup. It was a GREAT TIME last year. This year it will be even better because it is supporting Thrive Africa, an incredible organization led by my friend Alece. So get down to Atlanta early, pay your $5, and come hang out! Details here.

On Thursday, I am attending the Cultivate Her and Leading and Loving It luncheon sponsored by Mercy Ministries. I know that is a mouthful, but essentially all you need to know is this…if you are woman attending Catalyst, you should be there! Space is limited so be sure to RSVP sooner rather than later. Details here.

Are you attending Catalyst? If so, what are you looking forward to? Who are you excited to hear? Who are you hoping to meet?

PS – It’s not too late to register for the conference. Just go here and the Catalyst concierge team will take care of you. And don’t forget the Catalyst Labs ticket. You wouldn’t want to miss Pete Wilson, Michael Hyatt, and Anne Jackson, now would you?

I woke up this morning in Sunriver, Oregon for the final day of The Building Champions Experience excited about the progress made on my life plan and vision but still struggling to process everything I have experienced over the last two weeks.

How does what I saw and experienced in Guatemala fit into my future?

What is God’s vision and purpose for my life?

How can I live more intentionally?

And most importantly, how can I live more faithfully?

I am thankful because I know what a luxury it is to have the time, the space, and the resources to be asking these questions.

For some reason this morning this illustration by Wilbur Rees popped into my mind. I thought I would share it because it has me thinking, and maybe it will do the same for you.

I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please, not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep, but just enough to equal a cup of warm milk or a snooze in the sunshine.

I don’t want enough of Him to make me love a black man or pick beets with a migrant. I want ecstasy, not transformation; I want the warmth of the womb, not a new birth.

I want a pound of the Eternal in a paper sack. I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please. Wilbur Rees, “$3.00 Worth of God”

Do I REALLY want all that God has to offer? Do you?

I returned from Guatemala late Sunday afternoon. My first stop was the laundry room to erase the undeniable evidence from my trip, the stench of poverty.

I showered and went to church. (I can’t tell you how much I love that evening service. I was desperately needing the worship and fellowship.) I grabbed yogurt with a close friend. I crawled into bed and slept.

Monday morning arrived and I was instantly jolted back into “normal.” A day full of meetings, knocking out emails, and tying up loose ends. Finally home from the day-turned-into-evening’s events at 10 PM, I folded my clothes and carefully placed them back in my suitcase.

On the road. Again. It sounds overwhelming but truly, it is a sweet relief.

I treasure the hours of alone as I make my way to my destination, the Pacific Northwest. The hours to reflect. The hours to process. The hours to write. The hours to answer the two questions that everyone has asked since I returned to America.

How was your trip? Was it life-changing?

Questions that don’t just make me uncomfortable, questions that make my skin crawl in conviction. Questions that have made me realize how recklessly I have come to use the word “life-changing.”

At least once a week, something is “life-changing”… a sermon, a book, a song, a word of advice, a fish burrito. All inspirational in their own right, but seldom a catalyst for authentic life change.

And I don’t want this trip to savored and then slowly forgotten like a “life-changing” piece of pie.

I want this trip to be a seed planted deep within my soul that with the proper care will bloom, grow, and bear beautiful fruit.

I want this trip to be a recognizable turning point in my life. I want this trip to be a recognizable turning point in my heart.

So to all of you who are wondering, “How was your trip? Was it life-changing?”

All I can do is shrug and say, “I sure hope so. Will you please pray that it will be will be?”

What was the last thing you described as life-changing? Was it really…life-changing?

Today we visited the Guatemala City dump.

A place that is 1 square kilometer. A place where 20,000 families reside.

A place where the water is unfit for consumption, even by a rat.

A place where little girls go missing like discarded baby dolls.

A place where vultures circle, searching for something, anything, to prey on.

A place so dark that even hours later my eyes still are not accustomed to the light.

If I am honest, I am frustrated. Really frustrated.

Frustrated because I cannot begin to reconcile the disparity.

The disparity between wealth and poverty. Want and need. Developed and developing. Light and dark.

I have questions.

How do I fish shoes out of my overflowing closet after seeing babies walk on trash barefoot?

How do I discard leftovers after watching kids line up for whatever the Compassion project is serving because it is a rare warm meal?

How do I return to the abundant life I left five days ago knowing the haunting truth of poverty?

And unfortunately there are no easy answers. There are no pretty pink bows to tie up this life-changing journey.

There are only challenges.

The passionate pursuit of becoming more like Christ.

And the question that Shaun Groves asked each of us tonight, “Now that you KNOW, what are you going to DO about it?”

I must ask you the same question.

Now that you know, what are you going to do about it?

Would you consider sponsoring a child from Guatemala? It would mean the world to me. It would mean the world to a little boy or girl, their family, and their community.

There really are no words but still I am going to try to express all that is laying on my heart tonight.

From the moment you ran into my arms until our last goodbye this afternoon, I absolutely loved every moment of our day together.

It was one of the best days of my life. Even hours later as I write this letter, my heart is bursting with joy. I am overwhelmed by opportunity that God has given me, to be your sponsor, and your friend.

I loved seeing where you spend your days.

This morning I saw the tiny dark room that you share with your mother, sisters, and brother. Even though it was small and imminent danger lurked outside, I could instantly tell that you felt safe there. And that made me happy.

This afternoon I got to experience the Compassion project where you play, where you learn about Jesus, and where you will find the kind of friends that will last a lifetime. I know that as you grow this place will serve as your home away from home. I know that the pastor and the project director will be there for you, anytime you need them. I know that they will see that you are molded into the Godly man you were created to be. And that made me happy.

I loved hearing firsthand about the challenges you face.

Even though it tore me up inside to see and hear the trials that you face at only four years old, it was incredible to know specifically how I can pray for you.

I will pray that you stay safe, that the gangs don’t come knocking, that the rain will let up so that when you sleep your bed is warm and dry.

And I will pray for your father, that he is safe as he travels four hours to work, that he remains strong and faithful during the week as he lives separated from his wife and children, and that he finds steady employment closer to home, closer to you.

Jenser always remember, “Life is hard, but God is good.”

God is so good. And He has big plans for you.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. Jeremiah 29:11-12 (New International Version)

I loved seeing a picture of what the future might hold for you.

You probably don’t realize this but today I met three young men who grew up in your project. Three young men that are pursuing their dreams at the University with the help of Compassion’s Leadership Development Program.

Hearing each of their stories gave me great hope for you. You can be anything you want to be. You just need to stay focused on your studies and walk where God leads you.

Most of all I loved being with you.

I loved laughing with you. I loved feeding you. I loved kicking the soccer ball with you. And I loved holding you close. How I wish that I never had to let you go.

Until we meet again, I will write you letters. Letters that keep you abreast of my adventures and dreams. Letters that remind you that you are loved. Letters that affirm everything you are learning about Jesus.

Now it is time to say goodbye again but know that a big chunk of my heart remains in Guatemala with you.

Love,

Lindsey

PS – I will be practicing my soccer (or football as you say) so that I can try to keep up with you when we reunite.

If you would like to sponsor a child like Jenser through Compassion International click here. You will not regret it. As you can tell from this letter, I don’t.