A 50 pound bag.

I was just there.

I remember packing. I remember praying. I remember driving around to see people before leaving. I remember saying good byes. I remember get dropped off at the airport. I remember needing God to show up in HUGE ways, because I couldn't go to another continent without Him.

I remember because it was just a few short months ago. I left for Bolivia. All alone. Scared. Looking for adventure. Needing a real God. Ready to conquer injustice. Taking on the world. Saying goodbye to all I knew.

My friend, Lauren in this exact moment is where I just was. She is currently flying from Chicago to London, and then from London to Zambia, Africa where she will spend the next six months loving people.

She came over the other day to pray.

I was really looking forward to praying for her, with her. I was just there. All the emotions running were still fresh. I was only gone for six weeks, not six months, but I can imagine.

So she came over. We shared  our hearts for missions, and stories of a real God.

I began to pray for her. It was easy. How did I pray? I just remembered, What did I beg God for months before? What mountains did I need Him to move? What were things I was nervous about? I was just there. It was all fresh. I believe the Holy Spirit helps us pray. He brought something to memory I wasn't intending on praying about.

I began praying for her luggage to be the correct weight. Out of anything I could have prayed for, that was on my heart the most.

I reminded Lauren that our God is the same God that put planets into orbit, He split the Red Sea, He changed water into wine. He is more than capable to make bags weigh 50.0 pounds.

And its true. I remember fretting for days about my own bags being over weight. 

He is so faithful and sovereign. I put both of my bags on the scales at the Detroit airport on Valentine's Day, and they BOTH were 50.0 pounds. TO THE OUNCE. They were both pounds over when I left my house. He did that.


So, back to Lauren. She just called me a little bit ago. She  was boarding her flight to London. She told me she had to call and tell me about our real God.


She was so nervous about the weight of her bag. She was just praying and praying for it to be the proper weight. She said she put it up on the scale, and it was 50.0 pounds EXACTLY. She was then able to share about a real God and her faith to the airport workers checking her in.
br />
Are you kidding me?!?!


Scales don't lie. It isn't a coincidence. God is sovereign. He makes the path of the righteous smooth. He listens to the whispers of our hearts. He is faithful. He gives to us when we ask in Jesus' name. He is all powerful. He is God. He is in the business of miracles. He just wants our faith and obedience. He wants to be famous in all of the earth.


What a good God we serve.

Please be praying for Lauren as she travels to Africa, and as she settles in. She will be there for the next six months, and I know is coveting your prayers.

I look forward to watching God's favor and faithfulness our out on her in Africa.

Once she is up and blogging, I will link up with her blog, so you can follow along.

Overwhelmed once again by His goodness, M

He hears the whispers of my heart, even in the kitchen.

I love to bake.


I have since I was a little girl. My easy bake oven was one of my favorite toys growing up. One year in high school, for my mom's birthday, I made a triple layer cake. I remember how proud I was of that lopsided, delicious thing.


When I moved out, on my own, two and half years ago, I rediscovered my love for baking.

The idea of taking different items and mixing them together, and baking them to create a bite of paradise was pure joy to me. I love to create my own recipes. Finding new ways to make desserts from scratch became a passion. The aroma of a sweet treat filling my home was good for my soul. I love to bake to relax, to show someone how much I love them, because I'm happy, to get anger out, because I'm bored, because I found a new recipe. I just love it. I'm nothing too special. Baking is just something I love dearly. It is what helps make me, me.


While baking the past few years, I have used a fork to mix. I don't own a mixer. I realize I could go to the store and get a cheap mixer, but I know they don't last long. And really, I have always wanted a kitchenaid stand mixer. Always. But they are crazy expensive, and I have never been able to justify spending the money. So I use a fork, knowing I will have sore wrists and arms before the oven heats up. I am not complaining, I enjoy it, and it is just a fact.


I was on a mini vacation down south a couple weeks ago visiting my friend. She is getting married this summer, and I am a bridesmaid. I flew down for a long weekend to help her with all things wedding. (I love weddings. I love planning them. I love being in them. I need a separate closet for all my bridesmaid dresses. I just love them. Ah!) We were registering for gifts at a store for her.


And then, I saw it.


The most beautiful kitchenaid mixer ever. So much potential in its little self. My daydreaming kicked in. Brownies with caramel, banana breakfast bread, moist chocolate chip cookies, lemon pie, apple crumb muffins, pasta sauces, oh the possibilities were endless. 






I looked at the price tag and laughed. Reality set back in. I told my friend jokingly, I just want to get married just so I register for a kitchenaid. (Totally joking. I would love to be married one day. Kitchen appliances included or not.) She laughed. But really in my mind thinking I will not own one until there is a certain ring on a certain finger.


Owning a kitchenaid has always been on my heart. I told a friend if I ever owned one while still single (not given at a wedding shower), it was going to be a really cool God story, I just knew it.

Back home after my trip, I wanted to try out a new recipe for homemade red velvet cake and cream cheese frosting for our young adult Bible study. I knew I really needed a mixer to get my frosting right.


I called up on of my dear friends and asked to borrow her kitchenaid. She said of course! I could borrow it for a week. I then made my first batch of cupcakes. I fell in love with this silly machine that made life in the kitchen so easy and quick.


A week later was yesterday. My friend called me. We made small talk at first, and then she brought up the mixer. She told me that God had put it on her heart not to just let me borrow it, but to give it to me. She talked it over with her husband, and  they were in agreement, and just wanted to bless me.



They didn't know that for years I had been wanting one. They knew I wanted to borrow it for a few days. But the Creator of the Universe put it in my friend's heart to give it to me. My friend was obedient. And I was blessed beyond measure. I own a kitchenaid!!!!!!


My friend told me she knew I would use it to bake to bless people and for ministry. I instantly thought of when I went to Bolivia a few months ago. I baked cookies and goodies and sold them to pay for my shots to go to Bolivia. I also thought of how often when I bake just to bake, and give it all away, He uses that to bless other people. I cannot wait to get in my kitchen and bake away. I plan on baking to go to Haiti, I plan on baking to love people. I am so excited.


Goodness. I am such a blessed girl. I have a God who cares about my mixing needs in the kitchen. He hears the little whispers of my heart. He doesn't want to be involved in just the big-life is falling apart things. He desires an intimate relationship with us. He wants to be apart of the things that seem so tiny, we don't share with others. He is not a God who just sits in heaven looking down occasionally.


He is active in our lives, if we allow Him to.





God's word says in James 4:8 "Draw near to God and He will draw near to you." He longs and desires to be close with us.


He is a good God. He wants to bless us. " If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him! " 


Life is hard. But God is good. And sometimes He uses an obedient friend to bless the socks off of me. 


So I really encourage you, are you supposed to be blessing someone with what you have? You never know how it will effect someone when you are just obedient and give in faith. Or, do you need to be more open and aware  and thankful of His blessings? He is our daddy, He  wants to give us good things and love us. We just need to be in tune to His voice and following Him. 


Have a wonderful, sunny Sunday. I am looking forward to being outside today. Soak up the sun, with a good spf! 


Can't wait to share the other amazing things He is working out, and teaching me. Love, M 

Surprise Surgery and His Sovereignty

Monday night I came home to find my roommate on the couch watching tv. She told me she didn't feel great, and was skipping our late night roomie chat and tv show. She said something just felt off in her body. She went to bed early, and I spent time in my room reading before bed.

Tuesday morning I was up at 5, like normal. My normal routine was in motion, until I noticed the kitchen light was on. My roommate stumbled out of her room looking rough. She told me she hadn't really slept through the night, and wasn't feeling well. She assumed it was a kidney infection. I reminded her to go to the doctor and keep me posted. I then left the house by 5:50am.

Around 8:30am she called me and told me she was really sick to her stomach and in pain. I got off the phone and got online, looking for clinics that were cheap, since she doesn't have insurance.

We then texted back and forth all day. She kept me updated with snippets of phrases in the midst of pain.

I didn't realize how badly she felt until later.

She took an ambulance to the hospital and spent the day in the emergency room.

They had found a large mass on her ovary during an ultra sound. They scheduled surgery for that night.

Uncertainty.

She asked me to call her mom and explain what was going on.

Her family and friends all live on the other side of the state, a few hours away. She doesn't really know anyone here, except for me. I am her person.

I arrived at the hospital a bit after 7:30 pm, thinking I would not be able to see her before surgery.

I was able to see her in the pre-op area for a while. I prayed with her. Peace flooded over both of us.

He is sovereign. He is faithful. He is good regardless of the outcome. He is in control. He is not surprised by this. He is loving. He is healer. He is provider. He is peace.

I was able to meet the whole surgical team, and ask questions. That in itself was a blessing. I am not family, and yet they shared exactly what was going on.

She went back to the or, and I went to the waiting area. I updated my Facebook, and began praying.

If you know me well, you would testify to the fact that I am not always calm. I am often an emotional wreck.

Every day since being back from Bolivia I have cried and cried, longing to be there. I have cried, being overwhelmed at the grocery store, missing my babies, seeing a sweet commercial....I am a mess.

But.

God held me together. I was a pillar of strength. It was not my own. I was calm. I did not shed one tear. I did not throw up. I did not sit in a corner and grow grey hair. He held me together.

I trusted God. I was filled with Him. The prayers of my dear friends and family overwhelmed me as I remembered and reflected on who He is, and how He is always faithful.

My roommate's mom had driven a few hours and arrived at the hospital while she was still in surgery.
We got coffee and went back to waiting. I began to share bits of pieces of my story in Bolivia. I shared His faithfulness. I reminded us of who He is. We were filled with peace that is not from this world. We huddled together on a chair and praised our Jesus and begged for healing.

While we were praying, the doctors came out to talk with us. They took us to a back room, and closed the door. We then listened to the surgeon explain that the mass was a very large cyst. It had grown and filled very fast and the weight and position of it has twisted her right falopian tube, and cut off the blood supply to her right ovary. They had drained the cyst, and are fairly confident it was benign.

She was going to be okay. She was waking up in recovery. We would be able to see her soon.

The surgery may make it more difficult to get pregnant one day. But I am reminded of a God that opened the womb of a woman in her 90's, caused a barren woman to have a son, and a virgin to carry a baby.

Our God is greater, and He is able.

I helped her and her mom get settled into her hospital room and ready for bed.

She came home yesterday, and has been camped out on the couch watching movies. Please be praying for her as she continues to recover.

We know God is sovereign. We know He is aware of timing. We praise Him for that. If this would've happened 3 weeks prior, I would've still been in Bolivia. She would've had no one with her. If it would've happened three weeks later, she would've been in Puerto Rico doing missions work. We are so blessed I was here, and she was able to go to a wonderful hospital.

She is going to Puerto Rico for four months this summer to work at a camp for kids and to share Jesus.

I am asking you to pray for God to be two things to her. Provider and Healer.

She doesn't have insurance. She is done with her job since she is on bed rest and leaving in a week. She will soon have many medical bills stacking up. She rode an ambulance, spent the day in the er, had emergency surgery, and stayed the night in the the hospital. None of which will be cheap. We are praying for God to move mountains and provide for her medical expenses.

We are also praying for God to do big things in support for her mission trip. She is not fully funded, and is set to leave May 1st. I keep reminding her that He is faithful. He called her, so He will provide. It was a roller coaster raising funds for Bolivia. But the most incredible faith building thing I have ever done. I love watching Him unravel His plan little bit by little bit as we trust Him.

Please pray for healing. She is beginning to move off the couch and get up by herself. She has a follow up appointment early next week. The doctors have said she is cleared to go to Puerto Rico, as long as everything looks good. She is tired and in need of rest. Her body is sore from surgery and medicines. Please join me in prayer for rest, healing, and energy.

She has much to do in the next few days. I know God will show Himself to be faithful. He always does.

I know this was a long blog. But I just had to share. He is good when life feels so uncertain. He is sovereign in the confusion. He is peace. He is in control.

I look forward to sharing more as it all unfolds. I know she will have great stories. I can't wait to hear them.
Love you all. M.

when the road becomes foggy

Waking up a few of the past few mornings, I have been surprised to find my entire world engulfed in fog. It makes driving a bit more of a hassle. (I love to drive aimlessly, but driving with a purpose has become a chore.)

One such dark morning, I was on my way to babysit. It was early, and not many people were on the road yet. I was a bit more than a mile away from home, and suddenly I couldn't see anything more than two cars length ahead of me.

The street lamps, the traffic lights, other cars, everything was invisible in the darkness and fog. It was eerie. I knew that I wouldn't get lost. I had taken this road at least twice a day, if not multiple times more for the past two years. I knew I was going in the right direction, but still the uncertainty of not being able to see the road, or my surroundings had me battling fear, doubt, and anxiety.

This seems silly, I am aware. I wasn't even sure what I was afraid of. As soon as I was out of that patch of fog, I laughed at myself for being freaked out. But in those few seconds, what I knew to be true didn't matter, all that I saw was uncertainty.

I feel like that is my life lately. Uncertain.

I doubt if God called me to Bolivia for six weeks. I wonder if I'll be able to handle it. I doubt that my Spanish will be good enough to communicate. I wonder if my visa be approved and be returned in time.

I am scared of airports, customs, and immigration. I am nervous about flying in a small plane from La Paz to Cochabamba. I am scared outta my mind about going completely alone. I have doubts on if the money will all come in. I am frightened that when I return, life here won't be the same, that I would've missed out on so much. I am on edge about even writing this blog and sharing my fears.

This is my fog.

I am in a fog of uncertainty. For these few seconds, or weeks, what I know to be true (He HAS called me to serve in Bolivia) is being overpowered by doubt from the enemy and my flesh.

And then I remember His faithfulness.

He remembered Noah and in His perfect timing, placed him where he needed to be. (Gen 8:1-3)

He told Abraham to leave his home, and go to a land He would later show him. (Gen 12:1-4)

He was with Joseph when he was in an unfamiliar land. (Gen 39:2)

When Moses feels like he cannot speak, He reminds him who He is. (Ex 4:10-12)

He keeps Daniel safe from eminent danger. (Dan 6:26-27)

This is my God.

Romans 8:15a "For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave to fear..."

Deut 31:8 "The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged."

Josh 10:25a "Joshua said to them, 'Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Be strong and courageous..."

Psalm 56:4 "In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?"

Heb 13:6 "So that we say with confidence, 'The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?'"

Isa 41:10 "So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

I feel the fog lessening, and the truth regaining clarity. I still must prepare myself for my trip. My Spanish classes begin the beginning of January. My Bolivian travel books have changed from cute coffee table decorations to bedside companions, marked and highlighted. God has provided me with almost $700 since my last post (YAYY!) I have started the process to set up a visit my my compassion international girl, Karen, I sponsor. I have a budget of what bills need to be paid while I am gone.

I am still uncertain. But I will continue to push forward, knowing He is with me, and He is preparing the way.

Please continue to pray with/for me. I appreciate it more than you could imagine.

Only about seven weeks until its go time!

Have a wonderful, wintery, Wednesday! Love, M

getting kicked out of a country isn't ideal

Last night I went to my youth pastor's home for a reunion Christmas party for all the high school leadership kids that have graduated.

There are now seven classes that attend, so there were quite a few of us over. We played mafia and banana grams, watched a video we had made five years ago, and all caught up. I was the oldest "kid" there (are you still a kid at 24?!?), so a lot of the younger kids didn't know all of the infamous stories from when I was in high school. I was reminded of one such story that was turned out pretty life changing.

My senior year of high school about 15 or so of the leadership team went on a mission trip to Jamaica. We went for a week, and put on a Vacation Bible School, worked in orphanages, and did work projects at a local church.

This was our third year going to Jamaica over spring break.

At the time, to travel to Jamaica, the only travel documents we needed was a birth certificate and school id or driver's license. I had turned 18 five months prior, so according to the law, I needed a state id or driver's license, not just a school id. I didn't have a driver's license at the time. And we didn't even think about the fact I was legally an adult.

I was in charge of all the craft projects for the V.B.S. and orphanages. We each had a carry on bag, and two pieces of luggage (this was before baggage fees, ah the good ole days) one for personal stuff, and one of random tools, craft supplies, tooth brushes, candy, etc. We weighed our bags, prayed with our families, and left the church for the airport. I have never been a huge fan of flying, even before this day, so there was some excitement and anxiety, but soon we were on our way. We had a layover, but were soon in Jamaica.

We began to pile off the plane, anxious to be there. We gathered in the airport in line to go through customs and immigration. About half the group was on the other side of the checkpoint waiting for the rest of us to get through and grab our luggage.

It was my turn.

I gave Karen, the airport worker my school id and birth certificate. She proceeded to ask my age, and if I had another form of identification. I began to get nervous.

 She called her supervisor over to ask her about me. I was clueless. Everyone else had gone through without an issue. The supervisor came over and began yelling at me. I didn't have the proper paper work...they were going to put me on a plane and send me back to the US...if she would ever come to my country and didn't have the proper paper work, she would be thrown out...who was in charge of my group...etc.

So my youth pastor came over to see what the commotion was about. He explained he didn't know about the paperwork mistake, and explained that we were on a trip to serve. The supervisor was yelling at both of us now.

I was so scared. I hated to fly in general, let alone was terrified to get on a plane alone because I was being kicked out of a country.

They said I would have to sit in the customs and immigration office alone until they figured out what to do with me.

 My youth pastor went to the rest of the group and asked them to start praying. The supervisor went away for a moment, and the original airport worker told my youth pastor and me to go through a certain set of doors.

I was crying and devastated. I had saved money, worked fundraisers, and planned crafts and lessons, I was supposed to be there. I was so close. What was God thinking? Why was everything falling apart?

We went through the doors, and on the other side was our entire group, outside. We were so confused. We looked around, and started to leave as fast as possible. After sobbing for a few minutes, I realized, I was free. We were on our way away from the airport, and I was on the bus.

Karen had snuck me into Jamaica.


We had an amazing week. We had so many opportunities to be a blessing to so many people, and in return were blessed beyond belief. I served the least of these in Jesus' name with some of ny dearest friends, and God used us. We saw kids and adults turn their lives over to Christ. It was incredible.

Any time we saw police, everyone hid me in the crowd. We kept thinking they were coming to take me away for being in their country illegally. I don't think we breathed easy until the end of the week.

Finally it was the day to return to the US. We spent more time in prayer than normal that morning, as I was nervous about all things airport related. We were packed and on our way.

We had to go through customs and immigration on the way out. There were multiple lines, and I chose one, and was shaking as I approached the desk.

I looked up, and it was Karen, the same woman who had risked her job by sneaking me into her country.

She remembered me. She was a Christian, and believed in what we were doing that week. She told me she had prayed for us that week. She asked how my week was, and through the tears I was able to quickly share how God showed up, and people met Jesus for the first time. It was incredible.

Could you call it a coincidence that the same woman who snuck me into the country was the last person I saw as I left the country? Out of thousands of travellers on spring break and vacations, she remembered me? Out of the numerous lines to be in, that I was in hers? That she was a Christian and believed in me and what we were there for? Are they all coincidences? I guess you could call them that, but I won't.

I firmly believe I have a God that takes care of His children, who has perfect timing, and an incredible plan that we often don't understand in the midst of it.

I was supposed to be in Jamaica that week, and there was nothing the government or airport security could do about it. God made a way when it seemed impossible, prayer worked right before my eyes, and I experienced a real God who really does care.

As I prepare for Bolivia in February, I do have anxiety about so many things. I frequently tell God He shouldn't have called me, or doubt that He did. But when it comes down to it, I am going with a big God who brings peace and is real. John 4:4b "because greater is he that is in you, than he that is in the world." He's bigger, greater, and in my side.

So, prayers for safe travel are appreciated...especially for smoothness while going through customs. :0)

Update: I still need about $1,500 by January 14th...please be praying that God supplies the remainder of the funds.

A HUGE THANK YOU to all who have been supporting me financially, with prayer, cans and bottles, and extra babysitting jobs. You are all amazing.

Love you all,
Michelle :0)

there's nothing like a cup of coffee

I love coffee.

I love the inviting aroma, the bittersweet taste, the warmth from a fresh cup, the jolt of energy I feel I feel on sip number five. I just love it. (Maybe not quite to the Gilmore Girls extreme...)

I remember my first taste of coffee. One of my dearest friends and I have breakfast at Panera Bread every Thanksgiving morning. It's tradition. Last month was our 7th year. Yay for bagels on turkey day! Anyways, when I was 18, my birthday fell on Thanksgiving, so we were out to breakfast. I decided to "become a grown up", so I ordered my first cup of coffee. I fell in love first sip, drank it too fast, and burnt my taste buds so bad I couldn't taste any of the wonderful Thanksgiving or birthday fixings.

Since then, coffee and I have a better understanding of each other.

The other day about three weeks ago, I did a photo shoot for a friend just for fun. The theme was 40/50's glamour. I loved getting dressed up and having a break from reality for a bit. I did not love being cold. Outdoor photo shoot in December in Michigan?!?! We were nuts.

The plan was to get coffee after we were done with pictures to warm up. That plan went south when we realized how late it was. So I began the thirty minute trek home. I was frustrated. I wanted coffee. So I debated stopping and popping in a shop to grab a cup. But in that moment, wearing sweat pants was winning in my mind over drinking coffee. Plus, I was trying to be frugal with money, since I really do want Bolivia to become reality. So I decided I would just make coffee at home.

 About 10 minutes away from home, I remembered I was out of coffee. I had brewed the last bit the day before. Now home is within reach and I have become cranky. So I decided to just head home and settle on hot chocolate. So I went up stairs to my apartment.

On the welcome mat was a small brown package, I kicked it inside and made a beeline to the sweat pants drawer. After putting on fuzzy reindeer socks, I walked into the kitchen to prepare hot chocolate. I stumbled over the small brown package. I opened it up. There was no card.

Inside was a pound of the most delightful smelling coffee, and a very cute mug. I looked at the return address, it was from my friend as a late birthday present. You had better believe there were tears.

The God if this universe heard my secret whisper in my heart about how I wanted coffee, and how I didn't want to spend money. He cared enough to put a package on my doorstep the exact moment I needed it. Had it come a day before or after, I wouldn't have been so thankful.

His timing is perfect.

He wants to give us those secret heart whispers, those desires and dreams in our hearts. That's my God. Psalm 37:4 - Delight thyself also in the Lord; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart.

If you would like to purchase some amazing coffee and have 100% of the funds to love some orphans in Bolivia (win-win, right?) Check out  http://boliviasbestcoffee.com/ I ordered some French Vanilla coffee this morning.

As for now, I am going to relax with my lovely cup of Joe. -Michelle.