I left America one year ago today. I left home...family, even those yet unborn...friends, many of whom have been married and/or had babies since then...a career...all things familiar...English...driving a car...normal life as I knew it...and arrived in a completely foreign land with the second hardest language in the world and planted myself in this hostile, hopeless place and somehow, by the grace of God alone, here I stand one year later. As she left home and began a life overseas, Amy Carmichael once wrote, "The night I sailed for China, March 3, 1893, my life, on the human side, was broken, and it never was mended again. But He has been enough." I think I feel this way most of the time. I don't say this thinking that this entire story is about me, because if there's one thing I've definitely learned, it's that this is NOT about me at all. How selfish to ever think that it is! To look at little ol' me in the entire plan of the universe and time itself, and think that I am able to accomplish something on my own is absolutely revolting. So why all the worry about what I should do...where I should go...what job should I take...where should I live...who should I choose to live my life with...it's not about ME!

When I was in the Philippines several years ago, one of my good Filipina friends would sing that old chorus "It's all about you, Jesus" but she would insert different names in the song when someone was thinking of themselves. Now, maybe you think that's sacriligious, but her intent was correct, and for some reason I still remember it. And every time I hear that song I think of Liza and her challenge to live a selfless life.

I remember a conversation I had with my sister Martha last November. I told her what living in Arab Africa for 8 months had taught me. The issue isn't whether or not I think I want to live overseas for the rest of my life or even what I want to do with the rest of my life (marriage? children? career?...even these things aren't about me) but the issue is that when I return to America (or wherever I live) I will live my life more intentionally. Because ultimately, when my life is over (and it really is quite short), it won't really matter what I did for myself, or what kind of adventures or experiences I had, because I wasn't given life to live it for myself. There's so much more.

So here's to a year of living and loving, and trying to sort it all out in the process (which is why you get to read my random thoughts of the day). May the coming year be as full and as stretching as the last.