Doubt and Discovery

Somewhere in all the craziness of a job search, the coffee shop conversations with friends and the happy hour drinks, I'd forgotten why I moved here. Doubts have flooded my mind with the "what ifs" and the "what nows." At some point it all stopped making sense, my decisions, my goals, and my choices. I began thinking, "Where do I go from here? How can I make it back to SF the fastest and get my job back?"

Within the few months that I have been here I examined the possibility that I had made the wrong choice. Because I moved to volunteer with a new non-profit I had to find a full-time job to make a living. Unfortunately it was harder than I imagined. I am at a part-time job that I'm unhappy with making almost no money. My optimism in this adventure has left me penniless with creditors calling, bills piling up and a savings depleted.

Each day seems like a struggle in itself. Must look for jobs. Must apply for jobs. Inevitably get rejected by jobs. And finally. must go to my job making coffee for people who rarely look you in the eye.

Because of all this...I doubted. Until this week.

On Wednesday night I had the privilege of attending a forum at PLNU with Generate Hope's founders as the guest speakers. I watched students eagerly learn about sex-trafficking and their community. Afterwards they came up with encouragement and hearts ready to help and abolish trafficking. Watching the video and hearing the statistics on this major issue cut through my heart. I'd forgotten. I'd forgotten why I moved.

At church on Sunday our pastor spoke of a life that may never fully come to fruition. Sometimes our lives can be racked with pain and trouble and we may never know why. But God is faithful and whether he blesses us or lets us go through trials, He has promised a better place for eternity. He says "follow me," without promises of a perfect, safe, comfortable life.

On this same day at work, I met someone who has been an inspiration to me since college. He and his wife sat at one of our tables in the restaurant. Initially I didn't recognize him but felt I knew him. As I approached I realized who it was. Laren Poole. Laren and his two friends began Invisible Children (IC). In 2003 when they came to Biola with their presentation on the child soldiers being forced to fight in Uganda, they opened my eyes to social justice. This began my passion and desire to work in a career fighting for social justice of those in other countries.

In my excitement I approached Poole and his wife. We spoke of IC and I mentioned my work with Generate Hope. I was thrilled to meet them and be reminded that if three people such as myself could create such a huge awareness of their issue then I could as well. IC just won $1M with the Chase Giveaway contest. And all this because 3 young guys decided they were no longer going to sit back and watch thousands of kids being turned into child soldiers. They are an inspiration.

Confused and broke, I am still fighting to figure out what my part is in this thing called Life. But I'm thankful for God's reminders that while I may see mistakes and unanswered questions, He sees my whole life and knows exactly why I'm here. Luckily I don't need to figure it out just yet.

Ultimately I'm excited to see how I can be used to further the awareness of sex-trafficking in San Diego.

Soul Food

I met her Sunday night. I had hardly expected the evening to go as it did. Bertha welcomed us into her one bedroom apartment that was shared with her daughter. Her story touched my heart and reminded me of a world much bigger than my own life.

Wrinkles embraced her dark face giving her the look of a much older woman. Her right ear had been disfigured from what appeared to come from a cut lobe. With small hands she handed us three red cups of water as we entered her home. We were here to offer food and companionship for an hour of her night. As she spoke my heart felt her pain, saw her longing, and ached to fix her problems.

Bertha had recently been widowed after an accident to her husband's leg which began to swell and continued to worsen. During this same time her son had begun to abuse her, bruising the left side of her face and injuring her back. Unable to stop the continual abuse, Bertha and her husband called the police and sent their son to jail. She was told that to keep him there she'd have to pay. With the little money she has she continues to pay the price.

Still left with a pain in his swollen leg, Bertha's husband prolonged treatment. Afraid of hospitals that would "leave him to die," they waited for it to heal naturally. Finally able to convince him to go in, she was later met with the news that he had died in the hospital. His fears had come true.

With a son in jail and the passing of her husband, her life had changed dramatically in a short time. As we listened, Bertha spoke of the hospital's unwillingness to tell her the reason for his death. Papers had been turned in, signed and completed but an answer was still being refused. Six weeks later she still has not been told the cause of death.

With no family in the area, Bertha struggles to take care of her daughter, keep her son from hurting her and obtain her husband's death certificate. As we concluded the evening we worked out a few ideas to help and will be contacting Bertha during the week. Unfortunately, the solution to her problems couldn't be solved overnight. However, I am committed to seeing her story through and using any gifts I have to be there for her.

It's stories like Bertha's that urge me to do more with my life then just sit around worrying about my own problems. I can't imagine the pain that she goes to bed with nightly. The thoughts that go through her head as she daily tries to cope with the events of these past few months. As I continue on in my search for a career helping others, I am constantly reminded of the need for people to come alongside those who are suffering.

I am so thankful that I was able to spend time with Bertha. She is beautiful and strong and I am blessed to have met her.

i am just fine

I feel lovely sipping a cappuccino in a crowded coffee shop where no one knows my name and all I have are my thoughts to keep me company. This is my sanctuary. The silence is bliss to me. While you squirm in your seat pondering your next conversation starter I am in perfect harmony with this quiet world.


"How frail the human heart must be - a mirrored pool of thought." - Sylvia Plath

Finding my inner Holden

When I read you can usually find my ipod on my lap, headphones in ears and a coffee close-by. If you ask me a question I'll remove the headphones and ask"What?" You repeat the question and I'll answer. The thing is, there is never music playing. I hear your question the first time but go through the motions anyway. That stuff kills me.

The Choice is Yours

I quit my job at the Chronicle last week. And in my last week I contemplate the decision made. I leave a stable profession with a good income for the unknown. No job only an opportunity. My bags are packed and I'll be headed out shortly. With no certainty of employment, I go on faith. I will be volunteering with Generate Hope and hoping for a serving job at night until a full-time position opens up.

Close to 800,000 victims annually are trafficked across international borders worldwide. I can't continue to wake up daily with only thoughts of myself, my day, and my plans. True love is best displayed in community and not in individuality. Young children are being force into sex and I will no longer sit by in silence. I can be their voice, I can be their courage, I can be their protection. 

Finally pursuing my goal, I vow to speak louder, fight harder and reach higher for these girls. God has given me a passion for this cause. He has used these last few years to break me down and build me back up again into a stronger woman. There is no way this new path will be easy but I've already made it through some huge battles. I defy it to succeed in weakening me.

Did I make the right decision not to wait for a full time job in San Diego before leaving? At this point I'm not sure. But I do know that I'll be taken care of, even if that means eating ramen noodles and pbj's for awhile, I accept the results of my choices.

It may sound crazy. But living a mediocre and mundane life sounds crazy to me. I challenge you to follow your heart. In an economy that is screaming for you to stay put and hold on to what you have I believe that you still have a choice. Make your own journey and see it through. Wrestle with your fears and win. I believe in you.

Your Hands - JJ Heller

Heard this song recently, its words are comforting during all these changes and leaving family and loved ones...

I have unanswered prayers
I have trouble I wish wasn't there
And I have asked a thousand ways
That You would take my pain away
That You would take my pain away

I am trying to understand
How to walk this weary land
Make straight the paths that crookedly lie
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine
Oh Lord, before these feet of mine

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave Your hands

When You walked upon the Earth
You healed the broken, lost, and hurt
I know You hate to see me cry
One day You will set all things right
Yea, one day You will set all things right

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave Your hands

Your hands
Your hands that shape the world
Are holding me, they hold me still
Your hands that shape the world
Are holding me, they hold me still

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave You when...

When my world is shaking
Heaven stands
When my heart is breaking
I never leave...
I never leave Your hands

Farewell, Love

As I prepare to leave San Francisco a sense of sadness sweeps over my soul. Like your first love that you never quite forget, SF will be the bar that all other cities will be measured against.

I'll always remember the day I looked up at the beautiful sky at Market and Powell and stared at the architecture of the Gap Building. It was in this moment I knew that I had fallen. I could never love another city as I love SF. Its residents come from various parts of the world, cultures and backgrounds; and yet in this place together, they find their perfect harmony. For centuries writers have struggled to explain this city through pen and paper. I believe many have succeeded in attracting an interest, but like myself, have found difficulty in really describing the city that makes your heart melt the second you move in.

But I will continue to write, through my intimidation; this is my tribute.

It was in this place that I lost my heart to my first love and thought my tears would never cease. It was here that I played my first real song on the piano and found my joy in singing in front of others. It was here that I ran my first half marathon. I have never laughed so hard, loved so deeply, or cried so consistently as I have in this city.

I’ve experienced Murakami, Kerouac and Dostoevsky over glasses of wine in Dolores Park. Explored the follies of capitalism and the reality of God’s existence over cigarettes and $10 Cabernet. Walked the streets of Pac Heights dressed in green leaves as Eve during Halloween and danced to Lady Gaga in the Castro with my closest friend over cranberry vodkas. It's here that I escaped to house parties in the Fillmore with faces unknown and recently met. And I’ve listened to Radiohead, live, in Golden Gate Park through the mist and fog.

Thriftown in the Mission and the perfect tacos from La Taqueria kept me going back regularly to the coolest little hood in SF. Haight Street wooed me with vintage thrift stores like Static and array of attractive men in plaid shirts and Ray Bans. My most memorable moment of boy-meets-girl involved books, closed doors and North Beach. Nob Hill, where I lay my head each night, introduced me to Polk Street, the Lumiere Theater and Huntington Park.

Every day I wake and think it’s just a dream I’m having, and I keep relapsing. But it’s real. Those of us who live here are blessed more than we know. Months have gone by quickly, time has sped up and I’ve aged without realizing it. With each passing day I fall more and more in love with this place; but it is time to move on and find my next adventure.

In the end, I’m reminded that it's not my location that defines my happiness. It's who I meet along the way, the experiences I've been a part of and the inevitable hardships that make me stronger. As this chapter ends I’m prepared and anxious to find what lies ahead.

But quietly I whisper into the wind “I’ll come back for you San Francisco, you’ll never leave my heart.”