Monday, May 27, 2013

So It Begins


After the dreary wind and drizzle of the first several days here in Auke Bay, Alaska, it has become unseasonably gorgeous outside.  Right now, I’m sitting in our dining hall in front of the windows that overlook the front beach of Berners Bay.  Breathtaking, snow-capped mountains tower out of the water.  Most of the counselors, having arrived a few days to a few hours ago, are hanging out on the beach, enjoying the sunshine and each other.  Thank God.  I was worried they were never going to say any words on their own.

IMG_7436
I’ve been in Alaska for 12 days now, but it somehow feels as if it’s already been a month or more.  Although things have normalized at this point, they got off to sort of an eh start.  Coming back to Echo Ranch after 4 years feels kind of like visiting a house I used to live in.  This place is familiar – sort of – but these people aren’t.  The day after I arrived, I jumped right into the work staff groove, helping out with kitchen prep and cleanup (basically, cutting veggies, making dessert, and washing dishes 230981 times).

The first night I arrived, I was just in a funk.  I took a long walk (with my 3rd cup of hot tea of the day in hand) around the camp, just exploring, remembering where everything was, talking to Jesus, recounting all the woes.  It was weird and lonely.  And cold.  And I just kept thinking, What the heck am I doing here?  

IMG_7577


It wasn’t weird coming out the first time, at that phase in my life.  I was a college student and could just up and leave for the summer, no problem.  I wasn’t really concerned about my family, and I didn’t have a pending relationship back home or at school.  I wasn’t “soul tied”.  Things are so different now.  My relationships with family members have deepened, and I find myself worrying more about how things are going back home.  I think about my potential plans for the fall, feeling uncertain of what the best thing is (and we all know how I do with decision making).

IMG_7240
I sat at the top of the zipline platform and whined and sat in all my uncertainty and my junk.  I thought about my World Race training camp, now 19 months ago, when God told Allison Johnston to honor all that we had left to come there.  I didn’t resonate with that then, but I do now.  I thought of Jesus’ disciples, who immediately abandoned everything they were doing and followed Him.  And that made me feel a little better.  I guess I had just thought that abandoning everything physically meant I could abandon it mentally/emotionally as well, and that hasn’t been the case at all.  And then of course I know I’m supposed to just trust Jesus and stop freaking out (the usual), but I don’t really know what that looks like.


IMG_7257
I still felt kind of blah after all that, but then I kept going on my walk and saw all my special buildings, like the chapel where I had puppeteered and worshiped Jesus a zillion times, and the house where my “camp mom” lived and made me tea and told me her super crazy and detailed life story and listened to my woes, and the camp store where I would soon purchase some comfy sweatpants.  I went inside a cabin and smelled that signature firewood/stove aroma, and I was immediately transported back to the days of living with campers and attempting to get that dang fire to stay lit.  It was glorious.  And I felt refreshed.


IMG_7429
The next couple of days were just a process of my initial social ineptness transforming to mostly social eptness.  I’ve gotten used to this “warming up” process by now and have been cutting myself a lot more slack, as far as not thinking I’m an idiot and stuff.  I started to feel like I was settling in, finding my place.


Counselors started arriving early the following week.  In spite of initial fears of counselor advising failure, I’ve been amazed at the ways I’ve been able to connect with these girls.  Many of their demeanors and life experiences are very similar to mine, both in the past and the present, and God has blessed me with so many opportunities to share some of the vast depths of my wisdom with them.  Ha.  Seriously, though, I hear their stories and think, time and time again, Yep.  I know what you’re saying.  And I’m right there with you now, or I’ve been there before.  And I’m pretty sure it’s going to be okay, because God has a knack for working stuff out.  I’m seeing the evidence of our God, who hand picked all of us out of each of our normal lives and brought us to this place, with all our baggage and failures and quirks and fears.  And, slowly but surely, I am seeing Him make us one body.

IMG_7417
He is so good.  And, at least for now, I know I am right where I am supposed to be.



This post is adapted from an e-mail update I send out to friends and family who are interested in my missions experiences.  If you would like to be added to that list, just e-mail me at reagan.taylor88@gmail.com to let me know.

Friday, May 17, 2013

Contact Info!

I'm Here!

 

Family & Friends,

I have arrived at Echo Ranch!  Just wanted to send a quick update to let you know I’m safe and sound in the middle of nowhere.  In fact, I’m so deep in the depths that there is no phone signal, and they will soon be blocking Internet connection to pretty much anything but e-mail because it hogs all the bandwidth.  Good times.

……..

This is an excerpt from the "Missionary-ish Tales" e-news.  Read the rest here.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Here We Go


Here We Go


Greetings, family and friends!  Apologies on the lack of follow-through on these "weekly" updates; but don't worry, you haven't missed too much.  Here are a few cool-ish things that have happened in the past 3 months, though:
  • I gained a year of life.  #25 is looking to be another adventurous one.
  • Jesus had a resurrection anniversary.
  • I had the opportunity to attend a Project Leader Training weekend at Adventures in Missions.  This certifies me to lead any short-term (under 1 year) trip that AIM offers, domestic and abroad.  
  • I took a road trip across the mid-Eastern side of America to visit a bunch of close friends, most of whom I hadn't seen since before the World Race.  
  • I started a real, live, grown-up blog!  ReaganTaylorGoes.com.  Check it out.  (Update on 6/22/14… this blog no longer exists.)
I'm only a few days away from heading out to Echo Ranch Bible Camp!  People have been asking me if I'm ready/excited, and the answer is yes.

………

This is an excerpt from the "Missionary-ish Tales" e-news.  Read the rest here.

Friday, May 10, 2013

Fear Addicts Anonymous

I am a believer in Jesus Christ who struggles with fear, and my name is Reagan.

Sometimes it’s hard not to let my fear shape my decisions.  My beliefs.  My perception of God, His will, everything.

When it comes to any decision more life-changing than do I want Chick-fil-A or City Bites for lunch? here's how the process normally goes:  I want to explore/make a decision, but I don’t feel total certainty or peace about it, and I’m not really sure if that’s what God wants anyway, and then I start believing He must not want that, because where’s the peace? but the thing really seems to make sense, and the door is wide open, and I know it would bring about good, glorifying-to-God things, and everyone who also loves Jesus is affirming it, and really all signs are a go except that peace, but I can’t pursue it because I’m not quite sure what the will of God is, so I wait and wait and the fear of making the wrong decision builds and builds until I feel sick to my stomach thinking about it and become convinced that I’m walking in disobedience by not choosing to walk away from it and I’m now inviting the discipline of the Divine.

decision_arrows_1Original photo source


I made a decision once.

I had been wrestling with this particular choice for months, primarily for those reasons.  But I was ready to put my foot down and make a decision.  I wasn’t sure it was where God was leading me.  I sort of stopped asking Him (and other people) because I didn’t want to analyze it all anymore (or be told I was wrong).  I wanted to dive in “in faith”, hoping God would reward it if it was right and make it pretty clear if it was wrong.

I kept coming across things talking about how we let our past sabotage our future, define ourselves by our patterns, and those things weren’t okay.  Yeah!  That’s what I’ve been doing!  No more of this.  It’s a new day.  I want to start new and fresh.  I’m ready.  This must be a sign from the Lord.

I still wasn’t sure sure.  I feared that my feelings and confidence would falter once the decision was made.  That all the same junk would resurface, and that I was just having a particularly good day before.  But I still wanted to try.

So I made a decision.

The result?

No.  Not now.

sad-alone-girl-lake-sunset-cute


Original photo source


That’s the funny thing about making decisions.  Sometimes, the thing you choose after months and months of praying and over-analyzing doesn’t work out.


And that sucks.  A lot.

I wasn’t sure what to do with the pseudo-confidence I had before.  Or with the suffocating fear that had been prevalent for months, that fear I so often confused with the voice of God.  What was the truth?  Had He been saying no the whole time?  Did He say no this time to prepare me for a yes later?  Was that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach His voice?  Or was I creating that for myself out of a false belief about who He is?

But don’t forget, there’s always the Donald Miller approach of living a great story and "breaking down the door".  Was that the answer here?  Was the door being slammed in my face the will of God, or was it just a plain old closed door that could be opened a different way?  Was it supposed to present me with the opportunity to know what I actually wanted instead of floating around in la-la-I-don’t-know-anything land and motivate me to actually pursue it?

So there I stood, staring at the empty palms of my hands, thinking, What now?

dirty-hands


Original photo source


From what I’ve gathered from being alive, I’m not the only one who wrestles with this.

And that’s a really, really important truth to grasp.  Because way too often, I act as if I am.

No one else struggles with this the way I do.  I’m just being dumb and need to make up my mind.  Jesus will eventually make it clear; I don’t need to ask anyone else’s opinion.  Besides, everyone is sick of listening to me process through all this junk anyway.

The lies and the fear frolic around, hand in hand, and my paranoia of both disobedience and insignificance envelopes me in a toxic, lonely fog.

boat_person_rowing_outlines_silhouette_fog_lake_60643_1920x1080


Original photo source


It’s no wonder the most frequently given command in the Bible is “Do not fear.”  I mean, besides fearing God (not just the reverent kind) and anacondas, what good does freaking out really do?

But how do you give it up?

What the heck does it look like to trust in the Lord with all my heart

To not be anxious about anything?

To take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ?

I don’t have the formula for this.  I wish I did.  For myself, and for those that find themselves in the oscillating, never-ending cycle of fear and decision making.

But in the middle of my personal Crazy Land, I’ve been hearing God say things like this: Reagan!  Look!  See how I am in control and you are not.  See how much you can trust Me.  I’m taking care of you.  You are not lost.  You are not a failure.  And this is only the beginning.  I have so much for you.  I’ve got you.

What I know is that God is trustworthy.

What I know is that He is capable of accomplishing His purpose outside of our intentions.

What I know is that we were made to thrive in a community where we can be encouraged to keep fighting the good fight, finish the race, and keep the faith.

At the end of the day, that’s what it really comes down to.

I don’t have all the answers for my fellow fear addicts.  But I can extend the hand of someone who gets it.  You are not alone.  And together -- guided by the all-surpassing grace of the God who is our Shepherd -- we can probably work through some of that junk that would otherwise keep us from doing anything at all.

Because who can stay out of Crazy Land all by themselves?  Really?

4


Original photo source

Thursday, May 2, 2013

My People

The rain poured heavily outside as we sat cozily inside her kitchen.  A sharp contrast to the cold, dreary, wet outdoors, the room was warm and colorful, rich with an ambiance that simply made you feel at home.  As I relaxed comfortably at the table with my legs propped up on the chair in front of me, my friend spoke of her life’s goings on:  adjusting after transition, learning a new role, and moving into the future.  I soaked in each second, but I’m not sure how well I actually listened.  All I could do was look at my friend and grieve for the time to come – for what would no longer be the same.  Not just for her.  For all of us.


Over the past seven or so years, I’ve acquired a handful of “worlds” that have gifted me with some of my favorite people.  Olivet Nazarene University:  seven girls who went from college floormates, to college roommates, to real life best friends.  Anderson, IN:  people with whom I worked, lived, watched The Bachelor, and learned to be vulnerable.  The World Race:  those traipsed across the planet alongside me, saw me at my best and my worst, and encouraged me to just be.  And then all the “miscellaneous-es” who changed my life along the way.

It had been over a year since I had seen many of them; it felt like both yesterday and forever ago.  It wasn’t that hard to leave.  It was time.  But I also knew I would be coming back to visit “sometime after the Race,” so really, it wasn't like I would be gone for good.

After seemingly countless hours of car time, I finally made the roundtrip across the mid-eastern side of the country to find my people once again.

trip map


There has been a great deal of surprise and pain in my life over these last few weeks, and I found myself emotionally whoring myself out to these people, my people, who have deeply known my heart at one time or another.  We had shared stories of failed relationships.  We had held each other during heartache.  We had counseled each other through difficult decisions.  And we had simply listened when answers seemed elusive—an act that was often more significant than the answers themselves.  Confiding in them once again felt simultaneously refreshing and completely exhausting, and the retelling of the trials and tribulations never lessened the pain.  But there was a freedom there.  An affirmation that were meant for community, bearing one another’s burdens, and not navigating life on our own.  There is healing out in the open.  Out in the light.  Maybe it has something to do with being fully known and loved anyway.


Chalk writing on wall by Kylee


It’s times like these when I want to gather those I love into my arms and stick them into my bright blue Gregory Deva 70-liter backpack so I can take them with me wherever I go.  Some of them might have to share sides of the packing cubes, because honestly, I’m running out of compartments.

Who can say that they have even one community where they are always loved, accepted, and treated with utmost grace?

My heart aches with loneliness, loss.  But I know, too, that I can’t walk away without feeling unbelievably blessed.