Harvest of Hope

It was a whirlwind.  The anticipation leading up, the countless to-do lists, out of town guests, last minute errands and changes, a head cold in the midst.....and then it was Saturday.  We set everything up, and as I look at all of the beautiful tables and the room that would later be filled with people, it was the moment of Is this real life?  Am I really going to be standing and talking in front of 150 people?  How did I even get here?  And then the event began.

All things considered, everything went very well.  Yes, there were some hiccups, and it is easy to become fixated on those things as I evaluate the event.  But the truth it was a success.  Yes, financially, we were able to raise a good amount of money (hopefully will have the official total soon!).  We had a great turnout, almost double of last year.  All of the auction items were bid on.  The dessert dash was a hit.  Both Carol and my sister spoke very well.  Those are all great things.  Yet now, 10 days later, after getting some much needed rest and time to recuperate, I am just beginning to truly see some of the fruits that we harvested.  

I was writing some emails to each of the 3 clinics we support, and I was trying to capture the essence of the event in just a few sentences.  If I could tell them just one thing about the event, what would I say?  And the thing that I kept coming back to was now 150 people know you exist.  They heard the name of your clinic.  They saw some of the photos of your staff and your patients.  Your story was heard.  It gives me chills just writing this, because that is really incredible.  At the end of the day, Imani cannot raise enough funds to meet the vast and complex needs of the slums.  That is just a fact.  The reality is we are just a few drops in a large ocean.  But when I tell my friends in Kenya that 150 people came to our event and listened to their story - that means something.  That generates hope.  Having that personal relationship with the clinics we support is so important to me.  It makes those few drops of water mean something.  The money we raised isn't just going to Africa or to poor people.  It is benefiting Hadijah, the HIV moms group, Moses & Michael, Edwin, Andrew, Peter & Francisca.  And in turn, their sacrifice, their love, their commitment to serve their communities touches us, and alters how we perceive and interact with the world.

As 2014 is winding down, it is incredible to me to look at how God has provided and guided us this year.  Now comes the time where we ask for discernment and wisdom in what projects to fund, and how to best assist these clinics in a way that is helpful, but not crippling.  This is definitely one of the most challenging aspects of non-profit work.  I am continually learning and growing in this area, and most of what our board of directors does is wrestle with these difficult decisions.  We do plan to send funds so that each of the clinics can have a Christmas meal with their staff and some of the community members.  In the big scheme of things, this is a very small thing.  However, as I spoke with some of the people who attended this meal last Christmas, their eyes lit up as they reminisced about that day.  So it is worthwhile, as a shared meal with all the fixings brings joy and hope in the midst of a lot of despair.

I do not know what is in store for Imani in the months to come, but I am at peace.  God has always only shown me one stepping stone ahead....never more, never less.  It is a journey that has challenged and strengthened my faith, pushed me out of my comfort zone, brought me to my knees, moved me to tears, and ultimately left me humbled to be used by God in this way.  Thank you to all of you who have been a part of supporting Imani in so many different ways.  As I shared at the event, we cannot help everyone but we can help someone.  We cannot do everything, but we can do something.

Take My Hand

Sometimes the most calming, rejuvenating thing that I can do in the midst of a stressful time is to write.  It's one of those things you tend to put on the bottom of the priority list.  In my recent flurry of list-making, I was hesitant to even put "write a blog post" on there, as I knew there were plenty of more pressing tasks.  Yet I also knew myself enough to know the act of putting words together is incredibly therapeutic for me.  It is my sanctuary, my purposeful act of slowing down, of taking out a moment to view things from a different angle.

This has been a crazy time of life.  Weddings, trips out of town, long stretches of work followed by long stretches off.  And a lot of preparation for Harvest of Hope, the upcoming Imani fundraiser dinner event that I have been planning since February.  Though it has been a labor of love, trying to essentially do 2 full time jobs is taking its toll.  I have been frazzled, stressed, scatterbrained, distracted, tired, but not able (or willing) to sleep with so many unfinished tasks.  My mind is constantly racing - problem solving, evaluating, prioritizing, delegated, all to ensure this event is a success.  But what does success look like?  At the end of the evening, what really matters? 

I won't go into the whole story of how Imani came to be, but it really is an incredible act of God's hand in my life.  It was not what I had dreamed for myself, and not even something I wanted to do.  Yet it was exactly what I needed to do, and now I really cannot imagine not living the life that I do.  Still, I do a whole lot of emailing, planning, meeting, brainstorming, communicating, banking, fundraising, etc. because I really believe that the health and the well-being of the people living in the slums in Kenya matters.  Those few weeks out of the year I get to spend over there have changed my life.  I can never go back to life before falling in love with Kenya, and I never want to.  Just thinking about sharing a little bit of that with a room full of people makes me teary-eyed.  Though our lives are completely different, the human connection is so powerful.

This photo, in the very literal sense, is me holding the hand of a little boy who I met as we were walking through Mukuru kwa Njenga.  He was following me around, and although we could not communicate in words, I reached out my hand so he could hold it.  And that is how we walked around, hand in hand.  I do not know his name.  I don't know how old he was, where his family was, if he had eaten that day, or what his future would hold.  But in those moments we were of one heart.  Although I will never forget that moment, I wanted to take a picture because I thought it was a good visual image of what my hope for Imani is - partnership.  Essentially saying, here is my hand, hold on, and let's continue on our journey together.  We are walking side by side, no one leading the other, but a mutual understanding that you will keep each other's pace.  There is something so powerful about the human touch - especially in a place where you cannot always communicate in words and where many people are use to being "untouchable."  Sometimes just reaching out your hand is the most effective means of doing ministry.  A tangible act of love.  It is what I imagine Jesus doing as he ministered to those who no one else wanted anything to do with.  The lepers.  The blind.  The widows and orphans.  

Break my heart for what breaks yours, Everything I am for your Kingdom's cause

That is my prayer.  May I continue to see the heart of God through the hearts of the people He created.  May my life be to bring forth the Kingdom, to love deeply and unconditionally, and to reach out my hands.

Sherry's Legacy

I must admit - this is a blog I did not want to write.  I have been largely able to keep the emotions related to the loss of Sherry at bay, as our lives did not intersect on a daily basis.  We would reconnect every couple months, sometimes via email, sometimes over coffee.  Sherry faithfully attended as many Imani functions as she was able to.  The last time I saw her was the day before the rummage sale.  She came out to help organize and price items.  That was Sherry - always willing to do the behind the scenes work, content to take on a supportive role - never seeking out special recognition.  And yet, by this example, she led so well.

Pastor Sherry became a part of my life when I first began to attend Mountain View when I was around 9 years old.  I remember her always speaking calmly and quietly - no matter how chaotic a band room full of kids ranging from kindergarten to 6th grade got.  She was not a push over though, and she was someone that you wanted to earn the respect of.  Back in those days of meeting at Clovis High, we had to "set up" and "tear down" church every Sunday.  I, along with some of my friends, were given the task of taking down the nursery and toddler room.  Each Sunday, we would load up the plastic rocking alligator, the play kitchen, the baby bouncers.  Periodically, Pastor Sherry would take us out to pizza in appreciation for our work.  Although the pizza was pretty exciting at that point in life, I really continued to do it just because Pastor Sherry had asked me to.  I saw her example of working hard, and working even when no one else was watching.  Her example of being a servant is something I will never forget.

I was promoted to help in Sunday school pretty much the week after I had graduated from the class myself.  Pastor Sherry always felt that kids were very important, and that we deserved to play an equal role in the church body.  I started off helping out in the Pre-K class.  Down the road, I was in charge of the Toddler class, and eventually, I served as a summer intern, in charge of both.  She never seemed to doubt that I could handle the responsibility, and although now it seems like a lot to entrust to a teenager, I can see how she eased me into the role...slowly giving me more to take on, teaching me how to love kids, how to serve, and ultimately how to lead.  I continued to learn from her as we went to Kenya together in 2006, and were prayer partners during one of the summers that I interned.  She became my official "boss" - but really she was my mentor and my friend.  We would read books about the intrinsic value of children and talk about it while sipping coffee or sitting in the sunshine outside.  She would always ask what I need - referring to both the physical and spiritual needs.  She was an incredible leader over Children's Ministry - but was never one to be the center of attention or receive credit for the work she had done.  I know her treasures are overflowing abundantly in heaven.

When I went away to college, she continued to invest in my life through prayer and encouragement.  During breaks, we would meet up for coffee to catch up.  As college came to an end and the dream of Imani was being born, she never told me I was crazy, but immediately was excited at the prospect that God was using me in this way.  We could always talk about Kenya, as it was a place that weighed heavy on her heart, as it did on mine.  To the end, Sherry faithfully supported Imani, even ordering shirts when I know her health was declining.  Having her full support was a huge blessing and encouragement, especially in the beginning when even I thought the whole thing was a bit crazy.

Even though I am an oncology nurse, we did not really talk a lot about cancer.  Maybe it was my way of coping, as sometimes the more you know, the harder it is to continue to live in the present.  I did not ask the names of her chemo drugs or the dosing.  I did not ask about the staging or the prognosis.  I only asked how she was, and she was always hopeful, always positive, always grateful.  She never blamed God or asked why me.  She continued to praise our Lord and Savior until the end.  She lived without regrets - her life was spent bringing forth the Kingdom, and now she is dancing with Jesus.

It is not easy to narrow down the impact her life had on mine, but I want to highlight 3 things.  She taught me to be a servant leader, staying out of the limelight, never desiring to be popular or known, but to serve those you are leading in a way that conveys you care about them as an individual - that we are all walking through this journey together, that there are not spiritual superiors.  She embraced gratitude, always expressing her thanks to those who served in the church, and living her life in a way that did not take anything for granted.  And she elevated children as equals in the church, reminding us that Jesus set forth the example as he said let the children come to me.  She took time to hear the voices and the prayers of children, even teaching others around the world not to discount the faith of a child.

Pastor Sherry, you will be missed.  You left a great legacy, and you will not be forgotten.

4 Words of Reflection

 It is still hard to believe I have been home from Kenya for over a month now - where did July go??  In some regards, it is better to be putting this trip report together now, as I have had some time for reflection and to regroup.  When people ask, "How was your trip?
 - it is difficult to avoid answering "good."  If you are lucky, you will have a couple moments to follow it up with a specific story or a highlight, but somethings you do not even get that opportunity.  After having some time to actually think about it, several words stand out.


1. FRUITFUL - I purposefully did not have many "tasks" to complete on my to-do list, but the few things I did not want to leave without doing were accomplished.  I was able to visit two additional clinics with Jenna, take part in the dedication ceremony, and have a face-to-face conversation with Peter & Francisca evaluating past projects and dreaming for the future.  Of course, in the 3.5 weeks, a lot more happened.  I was able to meet the contractor who has been in charge of the renovations.  One day, I joined in the HIV mothers support group.  Jenna and I went on 2 home visits with one of the community health workers.  I experienced 4 Sundays of Kenyan church.  I was immersed in the Kenyan culture - the food, the transportation, the music, the World Cup :)  I walked away feeling at peace, that my time was well-spent, and that I did not leave anything pressing unfinished.

2. RELATIONAL - I titled this report "You came back" because those were three of the most powerful words that I heard during this trip.  Of course it made me feel good to be able to return to a place, recognize and know people, and continuing building what now felt much more like a friendship, as opposed to an acquaintance.  But I think this also spoke to my heart, as this is what I desired for Imani to be - a partnership and an ongoing investment.  Not just an in and out thing.  Yes, physically going to Kenya is the ideal way to nurture relationships, but ongoing emails, text messages, care packages - those are important too.  It warmed my heart to hear people refer to "the Imani team" and the excitement of the photo book that I had made.  We are not just sending funds - we are investing in real people and relationships with them.  We are saying "You matter to me, I want to hear what you have to say."

3. FRUSTRATING - There were some aspects of the trip that were indeed frustrating.  The first thing that stands out is how the churches seem to constantly be asking for money (during one service, I counted 6 or 7 different calls to give).  It wasn't so much that I did not think people should give to the church, but it seemed to border along taking advantage of people, and I did not see how this money was actually benefiting the congregation and the surrounding community.  It can also be extremely frustrating to see the very wide gap between the rich and the poor, and how it does not seem like any of those with means are doing anything to help their neighbors.  Literally their neighbors - there can be a row of beautiful, gated homes with manicured gardens and security guards, and the next street is a large overcrowded slum without even the basic resources.

4.  VISIONARY - One thing Peter and I have in common is that we both DREAM BIG.  I think my dreams tend to be more internal, and externally, I come across as very rational and realistic - but Peter will just tell me, "one day we (Imara Healthcare Centre) will do surgeries, one day we will have a school here."  And the thing is - I don't discount those dreams.  His faith is God and reliance on Him for even the most basic things is incredible.  I started to see God's vision of Imani partnering with additional clinics and having a presence in all of the large slums within Nairobi.  There are so many needs that it is easy to get sidetracked, but I envision us taking our model of partnership with health clinics and God-willing, replicate that with other clinics.  There are hundreds, probably thousands of charitable organizations that work in Kenya, and their effort I think is generally a positive one.  I do no strive to make Imani look like any of the other big names - World Vision, Gates Foundation, Doctors without Borders.  I simply want to directly meet the stated needs of healthcare facilities serving in the slum.  And to have relationships, lasting relationships.

The Travel Bug Bit

"Once the travel bug bites there is no known antidote, and I know I shall be happily infected until the end of my life." -Michael Palin

Well my friends, in less than 8 hours, I will be off on another international adventure!  I must admit this trip kind of snuck up on me....arriving in the middle of a busy season of life.  Perhaps God knows I could use the break, and the change of pace.  The trip will not be a vacation, but getting away from my usual responsibilities, constantly switching from days to nights and back again, and the stress and emotions of working in pediatric oncology will be good for the soul.  Many people have asked questions in regards to this trip, what I will be doing, what Kenya is like, etc., so this blog will an attempt to answer some of those curiosities, and hopefully provide some insight into how you can be praying for me and my time in Nairobi.

Where are you going?

Nairobi, Kenya.  Nairobi is the Capitol of Kenya, and one of the largest cities in the African continent.

How long does it take to get there?

As I am flying out of Fresno, I will have quite a few flight segments and layovers.  On the way there, I will be in the air for about 22 hours, with a total travel time of about 26 hours.  Kenya is 10 hours ahead, so I will not arrive until Friday evening.  The trip back is similar, though my total travel time is a bit longer.  Although it is a rather long journey, I tend to enjoy myself.  Lots of time to read, to explore the airports, to plan and pray on the way there, and to debrief on the way back.  I have met some interesting travelers, one of whom I still keep in touch with almost 3 years later.

Where do you stay when you are there?

I will be staying with Peter and Francisca, the couple who started and run Imara Healthcare Centre, the clinic we currently partner with.  I stayed with them last year, and they were gracious hosts, and treated me as if I were family.  They do not live in the actual slum, but are within walking distance or a short drive.  I believe their two younger sons will be away at school, so I will most likely stay in their room.  I do sleep in a bed and under a mosquito net.  Generally, I will have running water from a tank that is outside of the house.  Sometimes there is warm water, sometimes not.  Compared to some other trips I have taken, the living arrangements are quite nice.

What do you eat?  What is their food like?

I eat whatever the people I am with are eating.  It tends to be a lot of rice, beans, ugali (maize powder mixed with water to form a sort of paste, not my favorite!), cabbage, some chicken or goat.  I really enjoy the fresh mangoes, chapati (the delicious flat bread), chai tea, and scuma (similar to spinach) with rice and broth.  The cuisine is not one that I tend to crave here in the U.S., but you also have to remember that having variety, having meat, and having foods from all over the world are luxuries of wealth.  Rarely is there a lot of choice when it comes to food and eating, and choices are often made on what will fill you up and keep you feeling full for as long as possible.

What will you be doing when you are there?  Do you just work the whole time?

The concept of time in the Kenyan culture (and many other cultures) is very different than we are use to.  Here if we plan to meet someone for coffee at 8:30, we expect the person to arrive within several minutes of the agreed upon time.  Should we know we will be late, we typically let the other person know, as they might be wondering where we are.  In Kenya, you might decide that you will pay someone a visit around noon, and you may not actually arrive until the evening or even the next day.  In fact, you may not even specify a time of day in the first place.  No one is upset if someone is "late" because the time is not important.  It is more important to spend time with whoever you are currently with or finish the tasks you are currently doing.  There typically is not a strong sense of urgency.

I share this because my tendency to want to make plans and meet objectives does not mesh well culturally, and I have had to learn to not get too attached to any planned event, as it may or may not happen.  It is a challenge, because I am so use to following a rather strict schedule.  I try not to have too many expectations for what will be done in a day or to assume that just because we had discussed doing something that we are actually going to do it.  It takes some getting use to.  So I am not sure what my days will look like.  My best guess would be that I will spend quite a bit of time with Peter and Francisca doing every day activities...cooking, washing clothes, going to the market, watching Kenyan news and sports, catching up with each other, going to church.  I will likely accompany them to the clinic the majority of the days I am there.  I may help give immunization or take vital signs.  I may get to assist with a delivery or suturing a wound.  I might assist in preparing medications.  Or I may just talk to the people who come by, hold their babies, play with the children, or try and glean some wisdom and knowledge from the staff who work there.

I do not go to Kenya because I am a nurse.  I do not go spend time at this clinic because I feel I have skills or expertise to share.  This really gets into the heart and the mission of Imani, and where I believe we are different than many other aid organizations.  I do not speak Swahili, nor do I speak any of the numerous tribal languages.  I am not well versed in the tropical diseases and illnesses common to that part of the world.  I am not use to acting independently (most of the nurses do far more than a nurse would ever do here), and my experience and knowledge is in pediatric oncology....which is completely irrelevant.  No, the reason I go is to encourage the people who live and work at that clinic every day.  I go to tell the nurse that she is doing a great job, is incredibly intelligent, and actively involved in saving lives.  I go to witness the challenges of delivering that healthcare, due to lack of supplies, lack of personnel, lack of pay, to name a few.  I go to see where we can make a lasting difference.  I go to hear people's stories.  I go to bridge the gap between worlds.  I go because Christ told us to go out, to love our neighbor, to care for the children, the sick, the poor, the orphans, the widows.  I go to be able to be an ambassador for all those of you who support Imani, to tell you about what is going on, to share the pictures and the stories, and to advocate for those living in the slums.  Being a nurse does give me a certain point of reference, but really when I am there I am a sister, a friend, and a tangible example of Christ.

Are you scared?

Short answer, no.  I believe that this is somewhere God has called me to go and invest my life in, and I cannot really imagine not going.  Is it a bit scary to hear about bombings and terrorist attacks?  Yes, of course, but I know there is no where in the world free from that threat.  God will be with me, and if something dies happen to me, I will be in the place I was supposed to be, doing what I love doing.  Not much more I could hope for than that.  But friends, I fully intend to come home, and I believe that Nairobi is generally a safe place to live and travel.

Are you excited?

Yes, but probably not as much as I will be when I actually arrive.  The thing that excites me about this trip is seeing what God has for Imani in the months and years to come.  I am asking for a glimpse of that vision and for doors to be opened into other slum areas, other clinics.  I am expectant that I will meet all the people I am supposed to meet, and that it will be a fruitful and encouraging trip.  I cannot wait to see how the clinic looks after all of the renovation, and I am excited to get to share part of the trip with my sister who will join me around the 14 or 15.  And I am excited to have a new camera :)

Thank you for your love, your concern, your encouragement, your support, and your prayers.

I will have limited internet and computer access, but please continue to pray and know I will be happy to share and update when I am home.  

And so the adventure continues....

Liberty & Justice for All

This morning, I breathed a sigh of relief as I was excused from jury duty.  I had spent all day Tuesday sitting in a courtroom, several hours of which I was sitting in the jury box and questioned.  I was still sitting in the jury box as court ended, and everyone in the room was told to return on Thursday morning.  I had a feeling that I might be picked as a juror and was already trying to figure out how that was going to work.  The trial was excepted to last 3-4 weeks, so it would have required some degree of sacrifice.  Going through this process really opened my eyes and gave me a new found appreciation for things I have always just taken for granted.  I wanted to write about this experience, not necessarily to make a political statement, but to reflect on the rights we have in this country and what justice really is.

1. Trial by jury.  This is not a given in countries around the world.  I do not know the exact numbers about this, but I do know legal representation and having a trial are not universal.  No matter what I thought or felt about the defendant, they deserve a fair trial, as does every other person accused of a crime.  I think all of us would want the same for ourselves, our family members, and our friends if we were ever in that situation.  Of course, to have a jury requires citizens to participate.  As much as I don't like having to go down to the courthouse, to miss work, to sit and wait, I definitely think it is a small price to pay for a participatory government.  I have been eligible for jury duty for almost 6 years and have only had to physically report one time.  Most Americans love our "freedom" and our "rights," but everything comes at a cost.  Having seen a little more of the inter-workings of the system, I feel the cost for most people is not too much to bear.

2. Participatory Government.  Does the government have a lot of red tape?  Absolutely.  Does it often take a long time for things to get done?  Yes.  Does it feel like we really have a significant say in the things that happen?  I would tend to say no.  However, I think most of us have more opportunities to participate in our government than we take advantage of.  Sure, in most cases, we have the right to not participate.  Voting.  Attending political meetings, rallies, forums, etc.  Writing to our representatives.  Some things are not really negotiable, like jury duty, for example.  But the point is - this is really a privilege.  I can express my views on just about anything via social media and I am probably not going to be arrested.  I can go to church and worship without fear.  I could tell someone the candidate that I voted for.  As a woman, I can vote.  I can watch Congress and the House on television.  I can get a hold of thousands of documents that are public record.  I can freely voice my concerns.  I can have friends who do not share any of my political beliefs.  I am not saying that I love politics, that I always vote on everything, that I have a claimed political party, or that I enjoy all aspects of our government - because that would not be true.  I am saying that we do have a lot of access to our government, and that it is our right to choose whether or not we take advantage of that.

3. Duty as citizens.  You have probably heard the words of JFK (or at least whoever wrote his speech :) "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country."  I would say most of us today do not feel this way.  We really don't want to have to do anything for our country, yet we tend to be frustrated about a variety of things.  I think if we lived during a different era, specifically WWI and WWII, we might view this differently.  I am always amazed at how people so willingly banded together for the war effort.  I cannot believe that everyone who went without rubber or sugar, who grew victory gardens or worked in a factory, supported the government and the war 100%.  Yet I think people had a greater respect for our rights and our freedom, and they were willing to make some sacrifices to protect it.  Sure, even during my lifetime, we have been in multiple wars.  And many Americans did sacrifice, either by serving themselves or having a family member or friend serve.  But myself, and I imagine many of us, really did not do anything for our country.  Whether or not I believe in war, support the party in office, like the President, I am still a U.S. citizen and I still have some degree of responsibility to my country.  In a very small way, showing up for jury duty affirmed that yes, I am a citizen, and this is one of my duties.  I was very encouraged to see the diversity of all the people I met.  We all have different life experiences, heritages, struggles, and triumphs, but for those few hours, we were all Americans.  

4. Liberty and justice for all.  It is human nature to judge others, to place people into categories, to make current decisions based on our past experiences.  As the attorneys questioned us, they basically were trying to impress that we had to set aside everything that had happened in our lives, even some of the things we may be prone to think and to believe, and essentially erase all of that in order to give the defendant a fair trial.  Although I am confident that within that setting I could have done that, it definitely made you think about how easy it is to be biased.  How easy it is to make assumptions.  I cannot say I necessarily felt sorry for the defendant, but I did feel sorry that so many people in the room were praying they could get out of there as soon as possible.  At the beginning of the day, I felt that way too.  But as I looked at them, looked around the room, I just imagined how it would feel to be awaiting trial and wondering if there will even be 12 people left to be a fair jury, as so many people have been excused for one reason or another.  If I believe in a country that offers liberty and justice for all, who am I to try to run away from my opportunity to be a part of that.

5. The truth.  I cannot tell you how many people said something along the lines of "just say something to get out of it."  Let me just say that when you are sworn under oath and sitting among dozens of your fellow citizens who now know your name, what you do, where you work, and other personal information - I cannot imagine blatantly lying.  I am not a racist and I would never say something of that nature to get out of a civic duty.  I may have certain thoughts, opinions, paradigms as does every human being, but the question was not "Have you ever made an assumption about anyone?  Or do you feel one way or another about this crime?"  The question was can you put those things aside to be a fair and impartial juror.  And the honest answer was yes.  I will not compromise my integrity because something is inconvenient and time-consuming.  I hope those that know me would understand that.

I am still human.  I am grateful to be at home, to go to sleep, and to wake up and go to work.  But I will not forget what this taught me, and if I am ever chosen to be on the jury, I will serve - to uphold justice and to give something to my country that has given so much to me.

13 Letters & Counting

For as long as I can remember, I have always loved both sending and receiving mail.  My earliest memories of sending mail were at age 6, when my cousin and I became penpals. It was so exciting to receive something in the mail 'just because' and not for Christmas or a birthday.  I have been called a hoarder, but I have saved almost every handwritten card, letter, and note that I have received over the years.  Although most of the time they simply occupy a box or a bin, there are random moments when I will take them out, read a few, and be blessed all over again.  I used parts of letters to write my speech when I was Maid of Honor at my penpal cousin's wedding.  For one of my friend's birthdays, I went through our old junior high notes and made copies of them, which I used background paper for a scrapbook I made her.  The words people have written to me over the years help tell the story of my life.  Yes, I realize after I die, there is a strong chance they will be thrown away shortly thereafter.  I know they could not possibly mean as much to someone else as they do to me.  But until then, I will continue to cherish each one.

Handwritten letters and snail mail is a dying art.  With e-mail, text messaging, social media, blogs, and all sorts of other ways to communicate, why would anyone ever send a letter anymore?  It is not convenient.  It is not free.  You do not have a record of exactly what you wrote and when you sent it.  There is no spell check.  You cannot change your font, or send the exact same message to multiple people.  You risk getting a hand cramp, your pen running out of ink, your pencil breaking, not being able to find a stamp, or the recipient's current address.  

All that I just mentioned....that is exactly why I love writing letters.   Yes, it costs money to buy a stamp. Yes, it takes time, focus, and some energy to write a letter.  No, it really is not something you can easily multi-task doing.  Yes, it could get lost or returned to you for the wrong address.  But in a subtle way sending someone a letter tells someone they are worth the cost, the time, and the effort.

Although I am a fairly goal oriented and driven person, I do not routinely make New Year's resolutions.  Sometimes I have some ideas in my head about how I would like to change, but rarely am I concrete or do I physically write it down (which my sister says is the first step to actually achieving any goal).  This year, the idea just kind of came to me.  I was reading this post someone had shared on Facebook called something like "18 Things People Should Take Time to Do."  Letter writing was near the top.  People have always associated me with giving cards, sending mail, and as I was informed via letter today "I guess I am doing the Alyssa thing and running out of room so I have to write on the back."  Yes, I am known for writing on the back.  I typically always start to write in a card on the left panel, in anticipation that I will easily fill up the inside, and save the back just in case I need it.  I tend to be wordy, tend to have a lot to say.  Even when I write emails, this tends to be the case.  Probably even more so since I can type pretty fast.  All this to say is that I decided 2014 was the year I would bring back the handwritten letter.

I began on January 1 and have written 13 letters so far.  One letter a day, trying to get it in the mail within a day or two.  Don't fret if you have not received a letter.  There are PLENTY more days in the year and the order of recipients has nothing to do with popularity or the status of our friendship.  I had thought about how I decided who I would write to.  I thought about putting a bunch of names in a jar and picking one out each day.  I thought about just going alphabetically through my address list.  But then I decided I wanted this to be more than just something on my to do list.  I wanted it to be a blessing.  I wanted to use something I enjoy doing and receiving, and be disciplined enough to make it a regular part of my life.  So I decided to leave the recipients up to God.  I just sensed that He would put people on my heart each day, and although I just speak from 13 days of experience, each day I have been certain that I was writing to exactly the right person.

Although I did not resolve to write letters in order to receive a lot more mail, it is a nice bonus.  Today I received a card from a dear friend.  I will leave you with the wisdom she shared.

"May you see a simple and consistent thing like the sun in California and be thankful for it.  And may you have unforeseen endurance in your resolutions."