Father, there are some days when I just want to be in a field dancing with you. I want the rays of the sun to glisten on my face, as tears pour down from heaven turning my hair into spiral curls. The touch of your spirit holding me as we twirl with joy and laughter. I wonder what heaven will be like? To have this burdened heart to finally be at peace in your everlasting light. Father, as I stare out of this loft window, watching the people go by in the little town, I wonder “Do they know?”. What about driving by the people on the street in Nashville, or the people surrounding me on the metro in France? The question remains the same “Do they know?”. You have taught me great patience in my life, but this is the test of them all. To be patient for my homecoming, Where I can dance in the fields of heaven with you. For now, my home is where your people are, the people who don’t know. Use me as your vessel so others may find their home in you too.

What makes me a Missionary? My assignment?My location in which I serve? The number of times I share the gospel? The pictures I post on social media?What makes me a Missionary?

Ecclesiastes writes there is a time for everything… For death, For healing, For weeping or laughing, For dancing and keeping silent, there indeed is a time for everything. I’ve always pondered on the concept of time, its ability to seem so slow or move too fast, to bring sorrow or fill our hearts with joy. Time is inevitable, we can’t gain time or lose time; it's a constant tick of second throughout our seemingly long days.

As humans, we adapt easily to our surroundings, especially after years of settlement. We become comfortable and uneasily pleased with the idea of anything foreign that steps in our path, at least in American culture. Recently I have been given the opportunity to step outside of the familiar and extend my life experiences halfway across the world, what an interesting adjustment it has been.

We all have that place where we feel most safe, Whether it's at home, in someone's arms, or even in the most beautiful views of the world, we all have our place. My place seems to have shifted through the years. From different homes to different parks and even different arms of the ones I love, But one place has always stayed the same, It's never changed.

Sometimes I can imagine myself running in a field, along a rocky but narrow path memorized by the beauty that surrounds me. I see daffodils and daisies, carnations and lilies, I see wildflowers and sunflowers, each representing the blessings from God. What beauty lies in the colors of the intricate delicate beings filling my journey with warmth and joy. I can't help but notice the blessings as I'm being guided by the sweet aroma of the Holy Spirit gifted by God. What am I running towards? What is the final destination? Those are questions that can only be answered by the words inked on pages of the little Holy book in my pocket. His words recall “Let not steadfast love and faithfulness abandon you, bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart”(Proverbs 3:3). I am enchanted by such words of wisdom, that even in a field all alone, I feel at most companied with the gift of God’s hand.