We're Moving!!

Whelp, we’re moving – and it ain’t to the good ole USA. Well, not yet anyway.

See, we really thought we would be married by now. But not only are we still un-hitched, we don’t even have flights booked to Mississippi. And not only that, we still haven’t heard from the government about when we might be able to maybe possibly try to project a future move-out-of-the-country-date.

It’s been a heck of a rollercoaster. If you don’t believe me, just ask my bridesmaids - God love those girls.

Anyway, through a bunch of divine stuff, Alonso connected with an American guy who had just moved down here named Aaron. He, with his wife and two kids, live in another province here in Costa Rica called Cartago. 

It’s about 3 hours from us by public bus. Since we don’t have a car, and it’s a full on trek to get there with public transportation, we don’t get to see them very often but we do try to go over there when we can. We went one weekend to serve at a medical missions camp they were hosting, we spent Thanksgiving with them, they came to Heredia after Christmas to do some tourist stuff with us ... you get the picture. They are cool people and even cooler friends.

So when we went there for New Year’s Eve, we walked onto the property and I casually said to Alonso, “I don’t know why we haven’t already moved here.”

Pause. Rewind. To give you some background, Heredia is where we live, where I taught, and where Alonso worked. But now, I’m not teaching and he isn’t working. It was fine at first because we had the holidays then my sister came and we stayed busy. Plus, we HOPED we would be leaving to the USA right about now. But since we aren’t moving, aren’t working, and aren’t committed to any certain ministry here it’s been kind of weird – emotionally.

And to be honest, it’s been VERY weird – spiritually.

We don’t have community, AT ALL, in Heredia. I didn’t say we don’t have friends here, because we do. But we don’t have community – and there is a difference. So without community and without a ministry and without a “home” church, we’ve been asking God what in the world is He keeping us here for??

We’re spiritually as dry as a desert and we KNOW the great ministry and community opportunities God is preparing for us in the States so WHY are we still here?

Another thing: I was happy to give up my title as “missionary” – define that word, anyway. Not because I didn’t want to tell other people about Jesus anymore. I was just tired of the expectations and connotations that come with that word. I’m always a missionary whether in Costa Rica, on the World Race, or in Mississippi. I don’t need a title to make me share the gospel. And to be honest, so many of the people I have met who call themselves missionaries shouldn’t be allowed to use the word. So if what they “did” for a living made them a missionary, I didn’t want to call myself one.

Not being a titled-missionary = not asking for support.

When I moved home in July and Alonso was still in school, I contacted all of my monthly supporters and updated them on the situation. They ALL said they still wanted to support us through the transition and it was a mighty huge blessing. Then when Alonso finished school and started working again full time, I contacted them again about ending our support. I was working at home and he was working down here and we thought there were other ministries who needed it more than us.

Now fast forward back to today. My support has ended, I’m not at home working anymore, Alonso’s temporary job has ended and we still aren’t on the fast-track to USA like we thought we would be. That means +$$$ à out and NO $ à into our bank accounts. Our spiritual lives have been better, my emotional life could use a boost, and our physical lives are about to gain 50 pounds if we sit at home watching Netflix all day. But wait, we won’t be able to afford Netflix or the WiFi that provides it.

So New Year’s Day, we were about to say our goodbyes and leave our friends home when I, again casually, asked Aaron’s wife Bonnie, “So what does January look like for y’all?” She talked about how busy and overwhelming it was going to be because there are only two days in the month that they won’t have a team there. They are exhausted and need help. So when I offered, “Maybe we could come over sometime and give you guys a hand,” she perked up with an erupted, “YES! Please come! I need you!! We’ll feed you and give you a place to sleep! You’ll be a breath of fresh air! PLEASE!”

We giggled and talked a little bit about logistical things that would need to happen, said goodbye and ended on the note that she would talk to Aaron when they had a free moment and we would talk more.

That night, we received a message from Bonnie saying that they would love to have us, we could move there, eat there, and serve there. We love their family so much and we cannot WAIT to experience community there.

So, once again, the Lord spoils us rotten and takes care of our needs before we know we have them.

The big news? WE ARE MOVING TO CARTAGO!!! Sure, our bills will be less and we will get to be around cool, life-speaking, Jesus-loving, tattooed people like us. But the best part, and the part we are MOST excited about is we get to be a part of a ministry that we truly believe in!! We get to serve next to friends who sacrifice and go without, so that the people they serve can thrive. We get to pray with friends who humble themselves at the goodness of the King. We get to learn from them, sing with them, play with their kids and watch Jesus do a lot of cool stuff in between.

Also? Aaron was in a band in the States so he and Alonso are already planning a gig for the Skate Church. 

And with all of these teams coming in, my southern belle heart is fluttering with hospitality excitement!

Praise God for all the goodies He has in store for this season.

#stillprayingtomovetoUSAsoon

Free Food!! :: Terrors of Re-entry and Culture-Shock-ish Things

Part TWO of {who knows how many}

So after my body recovered from the alleged Dengue demon, I jumped back on a plane and
flew to Costa Rica to meet my team for month 11 of 11. The month was great, God called me to move back there, final debrief came and went and the world kept spinning.

I said goodbye to my family of 60, knew I would never see a large portion of them again, hopped on another plane and headed home for good - sort of. God had called me to move back to Costa Rica, remember? During my layover I found a Chili's because, if you know me, that's what I do in airports. Every single one.

After thanking my server in Spanish for my water, I giggled and pretended like I did it on purpose.

The young couple sitting {very} close to me had walked straight out of the Hampton's - or so it appeared. With her perfect golden hair, designer carry-on, polished nails and 45 karat wedding rings, she sat there with her business-suited husband - neither of them older than 35 - enjoying a meal like normal, Americanized people would.

For whatever reason I couldn't eat all of my triple dipper. So with a honey-chipotle chicken strip and a full basket of chips on my table, I decided I should stop before I walked out of there looking pregnant. I leaned over to ask the power couple if either of them would like my leftovers. Praise the good Lord He stopped me before the words actually left my mouth. "Oh my gosh, Ashli! You seriously just did that? You almost just did that!!" I thought to myself.

See, on the World Race, resources are very limited. We had to eat on about $4 per day and, let's be honest, it doesn't go very far. So (a) we weren't used to having much food at meal time and (b) if by chance we did have some left over, one of the guys on our team would swoop it up like an owl snatching it's prey. Wasting food simply was not an option on the World Race. Especially after seeing and serving all the starving people we did.

The girls on my team and I found a Chili's in the Philippines!! 

So it was just instinct to look for someone to eat the rest of my food. They probably thought I was stalking them, waiting for a chance to grab her designer and run. But no ... I was just being a freak trying to give away free food. I can only imagine what their reactions may have been had I actually offered.

Again, you may be thinking, "That's so ridiculous. My mind would never go there." And again, it's okay. I laughed at the toothpaste girl and the white-out girl and all the people who said re-entry was just straight up hard.

I made it home and for three weeks I lived the life I had left behind 11 months prior. I visited with friends and family who I had missed so much. I had a really big, fun, welcome-home party where I told stories about the World Race.

The point is, I never really felt like I had missed much. Relationships seemed to pick up where they left off. My bedroom felt normal and my church was just like I left it. I even told lots of people, "Reentry hasn't been hard for me. It's been pretty smooth." I am not really sure why it was so easy then and much different than it is now, but for some reason, it was.

So ya see, culture shock isn't always breakdowns in grocery stores (yes, I did that and I will tell you about it in the next post). It isn't always big, dramatic, and obvious. Sometimes it is. But other times it is quiet, and subtle and if you aren't the one experiencing it, you'd never know it was happening.

I will talk more about this in the next post but if you know someone who may or may not be going through re-entry and culture shock type things, try to be very patient with them. Try to understand even though there is no way you will relate. Let them cry if they need to cry or let them laugh if they need to.

Until next time...

Sorry I Laughed at You :: Terrors of Re-entry and Culture-Shock-ish Things

Part ONE of {who knows how many}

She was an alumni racer so we hung on every word she said. She'd been where we'd been. She'd felt what we were feeling. She had processed through it all and was back on the mission field.

Sitting on the floor of our Ukrainian housing, she told us stories about her race ... her squad ... her re-entry. When she talked about her squad, we could relate. When she talked about the ministries she worked with in Africa, we reminisced about ours too. But when she talked about re-entry, we listened quietly, for we knew that we too would face the wonders of it in just 4 short months.

"... and when I turned down the toothpaste aisle I just began to cry. There were too many options, I couldn't handle it. I just broke down, right there in the middle of Wal-Mart ... on the toothpaste aisle. I mean, it was a whole aisle just for toothpaste."

What? Seriously? I laughed every time I told other people about that. Crazy. Ridiculous. Dramatic.

I had heard similar stories from other racers about trying to buy White-Out or choosing a toilet paper brand. When they gave us re-entry talks, we were warned about more 'important' things like relationships and church matters. Our worlds, as we knew them, had continued without us for 11 months and we were going to be diving right back in at full speed.

Well, I'd like to share a little bit of my own story and how re-entry (over and over) has been for me.

I'm a verbal processor so being able to talk about these type things are important to me. But for whatever reason, I've internalized much of it - keeping it inside under this assumption that no one understands and because of that, they don't care to listen. So in attempt to iron out much of what is inside, I'll write about it here.

As most of you know, I came home sick with [alleged] Dengue Fever during month 10 of the race. I was home for 2 weeks and 3 days before joining my squad for month 11 in Costa Rica. So let's start here and call it my first reentry experience.

A little background information: My team was in Nicaragua during month 10. Dengue, in all its glory, was attacking our squad, one racer at a time. Some were worse, needing to be hospitalized, while others were bedridden, missing days and weeks of ministry with their team. If you have ever experienced Dengue Fever, you're probably sweating just reading this because you know how awful it is. Your bones feel like they're breaking inside of you. Rashes, fevers, cold sweats, ungodly amounts of pain behind your eyes and at the base of your head where it meets your spine. The sickness is terrible enough, in and of itself. But apart from that, we were in small-town Nica. I can't speak for the rest of my squad but for me, there was no reliable healthcare around. I was 3 hours (by public bus) to the capitol city where *maybe* I could be treated.

So I bit the bullet and decided to go to the local doctor. It was miserably hot in our quaint little town, I hardly had enough strength to walk to the bathroom, and I had no appetite. I was sleeping on the ground in my tent, right near the road where large, loud trucks and very loud motorcycles drove by all hours of the night. If you Google 'Dengue Fever' you will find that there is so cure for it. It just has to run its course through your body and you have to wait it out. There are things 'they' tell you to do that should help ... drink water, take meds for the pain, and the main thing is to get rest. Now, we all know rest was NOT happening in those living conditions. Did I mention that every time but one that I needed to go to the doctor (4 different times) I had to walk?

I'll save you the gory details of what happened each time at the doctor, and nights in between, and just tell you that when I gave a urine sample in a baby food jar and stool sample in a smoothie cup, I decided it was time to fly home. I prayed hardcore over that needle she drew my blood with - "My God PLEASE let that needle be clean!"

My first night home, I was too weak to walk up the stairs so I crashed in Mama's room. The next morning, I just could not bring myself to go up to my room. Something about it scared me and I'm still not sure what it was. It was 10am when my mom said, "Ashli you have to go upstairs and get ready. We can't take you to the doctor if you don't."

"Can you go with me? I'm scared."
"Ha, okay. Let's go"

She sat with me up there for about 20 minutes before leaving me to myself. Now, you may be thinking this sounds real dramatic and you just don't understand how it is that big of a deal. I don't blame you - I laughed at the toothpaste girl, remember? But if you think what I've said before now is just 'way too ridiculous' for you, stop reading now. It gets worse. Almost silly, when I look back on it.

Once she left and I eased into my walk-in closet, I was so overwhelmed. Disconnected from the very articles of clothing I used to love to put on. I couldn't find anything. I was looking for some leggings to wear to the doctor and I couldn't remember where I kept them. That 'little' thing was so heavy to me, that I wore WR clothes for my first 3 days home. After all, for the 10 months prior to this, I'd lived and dressed myself out of a backpack.

Once I began to regain strength I tried to visit with family and people I had missed. After the closet episode, I never struggled with culture shock again.

At least not until a month later when the race ended for good and I tried to give some strangers in the airport my leftover Chilis.

Needless to say, I learned really quick that the girl on the toothpaste aisle wasn't as absurd as I thought. So to you, I apologize.

Sorry I laughed at you.

We'll pick up there in the next post .... stay tuned! ;)

That New Tattoo : Deeper Than My Feet Could Ever Wander

In this blog post, I promised a blog about my *then new* tattoo.
Here it is...

Deeper than my feet could ever wander ...

What does that even mean? I can't walk more than a mile without complaining about some major back pains, so for me, "deeper than my feet could wander" wouldn't be very far at all. But that's not what the song means is it? No, no. It's far more than literal. And like the song, my tattoo means far more than what meets the eye.

When I came home from the World Race, I spoke at different churches and every time I told a story about our final debrief. I'd never heard the recently-made-popular song, Oceans by Hillsong United until the night my squad sang it during worship. I looked around at my squad passionately singing and I thought, "Man, I've gotta get this song, apparently." I later downloaded it and listened to it over and over and over on repeat as I lay in my hot, sticky, bunk bed waiting to fall asleep.

The next morning I woke up early to go with friends to a surf lesson. If you know me, you know I'm deathly afraid of sharks, deep water, and dark water. Even if the water is a foot deep but is dark, no ma'am - it ain't happening! However, it never occurred to me that in order to surf I would, in fact, need to go IN the ocean to find waves. The lesson on sand was cool but not exciting enough. I could not wait to catch a wave and it never struck me that this might be a little scary. Not until I was in deeper water, laying horizontally on my surf board, anyway. My surf partner, Erin, was going first so our instructor was helping her get ready for her first wave while I managed to float off to no-man's land on my own.

With the shore to my back and the horizon in front of me, panic set it. Although the water wasn't deeper than I am tall, I couldn't see further than an inch under it and, as we've just discussed, I was not okay with that. I starting thinking, "What would I do right now if sharks surrounded me? Would I scream? Would I move? Would I die right here on this surf board from a heart attack?" Call me dramatic but I was one scared little beginner. All I could see in front of me was a very large, vast ocean with God-knows-what swimming beneath it's surface. I began to pray for protection against sharks, and eels, and mean fish, and everything else I could think to name in my prayer.

Seconds later, my instructor came over, we started my lesson and I never saw a shark, THANK GOD. I'm obviously still alive to tell you this story. But that night at squad worship, something happened. It was that song. We sang it again. And this time, because I'd listened to it on repeat, I could sing some of the words...

You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep
My faith will stand

I closed my eyes and began to picture oceans deep. I saw myself back on that surf board. I can still picture all of this like it happened yesterday. 

And I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine

At debrief our hostel had an amazing view of the beach. The reception area had a large porch that overlooked the beautiful green plants which were growing down the mountain towards the shore (pictured above). This is where our squad met and worshipped together. At night, we would stand on the porch, facing out toward the open air and because it was rainy season, we often sang to the sound of fresh rain and watched the sky light up in the distance with silent, soft bolts (pictured below).

In those final days and moments as a squad, life became surreal. The past 11 months of our lives had been the definition of a roller coaster. They were full of some of the most horrific, scariest, dissatisfying, challenging, brilliant, life-giving, life-altering, life-establishing moments that we'd known. Eleven months before this night, we all had some type of relationship with Jesus - good or bad, we had one. But at that point, in July 2013, standing on the porch of a hostel in Costa Rica, I watched 49 other young people cry out from their gut for Jesus to take them further than their faith could ever dream up; Where their trust is without boarders.

And in that moment, it got real.

Three weeks after that I would be moving back to Costa Rica to do things I'd never been trained to do. To walk through things I had not walked through before. And I would do it all without the 49 other people I'd just spent a a year of intense community with. I didn't know how it would look. I didn't know how it would feel or if I could even do it well.

But I knew this...

If I stay on the shore, I can do it all myself. When my feet are on dry land I'm fearless and independent and I can even be quite successful there. In fact, in the places my feet will stand, I probably don't need God.

So I sing. I cry out. I beg. For a new place.

Because in dark waters, everything is unknown. It's where feet fail and fear surrounds. So why request to go to that place?

For in the new place, I will fail. I will need Grace. I will need my Guide.

And it is there that His power is revealed. There is the place His glory shines brightest.

It is the new place that faith is just that ... faith.

When I posted this picture from debrief, the caption read "Can I just live here?" 

You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep
My faith will stand

And I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine

Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You've never failed and You won't start now

So I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine


Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior

I will call upon Your name
Keep my eyes above the waves
My soul will rest in Your embrace
I am Yours and You are mine

the tattoo I promised to blog about ages ago 

Panama for Holy Week

Our mission trip to Panama was AWESOME. For several reasons.

But I feel like it would be redundant for me to write about it here .... given that I've written about it all over Facebook, Alonso has written two blog posts about it, and I've created a newsletter all about it.

So instead of me just blabbing on and on about things you may or may not already know, I'll just direct you to the places where you can know more! How's that?

1. Alonso is a great writer and the fact that he's expressing himself through his second language says a lot. He is so wise and I love the way God speaks to him. With that said, you should really subscribe to his blog. He's got a lot of good things to say and he ain't afraid to say them. You can click here to go to his blog and check out the goodness over there.

2. I try to write a newsletter when big-ish things happen to keep everyone informed. You should subscribe to it so you won't be left out of the ballgame. Don't worry, I'm not overly ambitious when it comes to creating newsletters so you don't have to be concerned about me flooding your inbox with SPAM. You MIGHT get one once a month ... and that's "on a good day." You can click here to subscribe or click here to view the latest newsletter about Panama.

3. PHOTOS! Everyone loves a good photo albumin detailing the events of life, right? So you can click here to view my Facebook photo album of all of our Panama pictures! Enjoy!

Until then, I'll give you a sneak peak! 

See ya on the other side, 

Ashli 

Ashlonso's Going to Panama!!

Tonight we received some really awesome news and confirmations that I couldn't wait one more little second to share with you. Here's the thing: From April 13 to April 20 in Central and South America its Semana Santa - probably better known to you as Holy Week. Because Catholicism is the predominant religion down here, the whole latin world shuts down and everyone flocks to the beach by the herds. This year, there just so happens to be another holiday on the Friday before Holy Week, giving me 11 days off from school. 

Can I get a HALLELUJER? 

So what will I do with all my glorious free time, you ask? I've contemplated several options but my favorite idea was to lay in my bed for a week straight watching movies and eating cake icing and brownie mix. Because I care so much at least a little about my figure, and the fact that I might get bed sores, I've decided to go another route. 

And by another route I mean bus route. 

That's right, people. #Ashlonso is going to San Felix, PANAMA!! 

We are more than excited to partner with this really cool ministry there called ICJesus. They are near the Costa Rica/Panama boarder and they work with .... well, like many missionaries ... they do a number of things. But one thing we're SUPER STOKED about is that they work in local villages with deaf children and Panamanian Sign. 

Ooooo weeee!! I can't wait to get my hands back on some Pana-babies!! 

Another thing Danny and Heather (the missionary contacts) do is work in conjunction with a Pastor and Missionary named Alex in supporting 12 local indigenous churches. They equip them with the Word of God and material resources in order for the local pastors to better minister to their people and reach unreached people.  
 

We've been asking God to show us what to do with this week and how to spend it serving Him better. Yay for heavenly answers, amen? I cannot tell you how excited we are about this mission trip. 

Another really cool thing about this opportunity: Last month Alonso and I got really close to the Passport team who was serving at our school. The girls helped Alonso propose to me, remember? Yeah ... those girls. Well, we get to see and spend time with them while we're in Panama! How great is this? 

Now I know you're just dying to know how you can help us get there ... weren't you? ;) So I'll tell you. 

1. We need all sorts of prayer. 

(A) Boarder crossing is never fun, easy, or safe. So we need protection for    traveling from here to there. 

(B) We are trusting that the Lord has gone before us and prepared hearts and minds to receive our message. 

( C ) Prayers of provision. This mission trip will, obviously, take money. So we're believing God to provide exactly what we need to make this happen. 

(D) Prayers for the Holy Spirit to lead us in every conversation and interaction - that HE would be glorified above us. 

2. You can help us financially.

We've estimated this trip to cost us a total of about $480. We're rounding high because we want to be able to bless the heck out of some people while we're there so we're believing God for His provision. 

So this is how it breaks down:

Transportation costs: $180

Lodging costs: $100 

Food costs: $100 

Misc. costs (boarder taxes, offering to the churches we're serving, etc): $100 

If you feel like you want to help us out (in ANY way) please send me an email at ashliblackwell@gmail.com or feel free to Facebook message me. 

Can't wait to blog about our time there and show off some pictures of ultra-cute- kiddos! 

Catch ya on the other side, 

Ashli 

When in Costa Rica, Do as the Ticos

When I came to school this morning, another missionary teacher, Christine, wanted to talk to me about supporter communication. She even went so far as to say that I'm "soooo good at it."

"Dang it," I thought, "now I have to go write a blog."

The truth is, I just couldn't bring myself to write a blog lately in the last four months. Why not? I have no idea. Yes, life is busy but there's been SO MUCH happening that you guys should have been the first to know about. God's glory is shown everywhere and Costa Rica is no exception to that.

I know that many, if not all, of you follow my posts on Facebook which is wonderful, but Facebook never tells the whole story. For example, the recently established relationship with my man of choice. All you see on Facebook are some pics here and there with a short caption which is likely to be a sarcastic line of mine. But am I really being open about my life and what's happening here? Don't get me wrong. I don't think that anyone and everyone has the right to know every detail of my personal life just because I call myself a missionary. And I'm certainly not one to put my laundry (be it clean or dirty) on Front Street for the world to read about. But if I love all of you as much as I say I do, (and trust me, I do) then I should be updating you regularly for no other reason then to share my life on this side of the world with you.

For my lack of that, I am truly sorry.

Well, as long as we're on the topic, I might as well let you in on my little love adventure happening over here. His name is Alonso and he is all things Costa Rica. From music to soccer to patriotic pride, he truly represents Costa Rica well. However, before he ever knew I existed, God called him to be a missionary. What will that look like for him in the future? Neither of us know, only God does. We do know, though, that God is calling Him into bigger and deeper things than a normal, typical life (for lack of better words). And for that, he is very excited.

While he's not close to being perfect (sorry, Babe) he is a wonderful, strong man of God. It's really kind of cool for me to see God loving me through him. Thanks to my journey on the World Race, my eyes and heart were opened to many things that I now see benefiting my relationship with Alonso. I'm tempted to stop there and not say "too much" because that would be more socially acceptable. But when have I ever been one to follow social graces? And how will anyone ever be able to relate to me if I keep all the good stuff inside and never let you see me and my life for what it really is?

So on that note, Alonso and I both feel like God crossed our paths for a reason more than a good friendship. While we know that OUR desire is to continue a life together, we want to be sure that it's what God wants. Beyond that, we want everything to happen in God's time. Recently there have been a few tangible reminders of God showing us that His time is much more perfect that we can imagine. For that, we are beyond thankful.

On another note, there are some really, really exciting things happening around here.

1. I have committed to teach another semester here at Glory Christian School! I'm really excited for this because I feel like this year was just getting my feet wet. Next year I will be able to be more excellent at my work.

2. I've recently paid the deposit for my NEW APARTMENT here in Costa Rica!! This may not sound like much but when you live in another country with limited friend supply, no vehicle, and a big fat language barrier staring you in the face, you quickly become dependent on other people. VERY dependent. And I personally, hate every second of it.

To the point of wanting to retreat back to a country that I know well, I hate not being able to get around on my own. But since learning the public transportation system, getting a Price Smart membership (like SAM's Club or COSCO), and now a new apartment, I feel much better about being here. Also, the better my Spanish gets, the better my attitude toward the language barrier gets! ; )  Because hey, when in Costa Rica, do as the Ticos!

3. God sent me a roommate because He knew I couldn't afford to live there alone. Thank you Jesus! So I'm excited to welcome my new missionary-teacher-friend-roommate, Emilie, to Costa Rica in January!


4. I'M COMING HOME!!! December 22 - January 16. So: 1. I want to see you. 2. I want to speak at your church. 3. I want to see you. 4. I want to see you.

5. I got a new tattoo. If you want to see it, you'll have to watch for the next blog! : )

UPDATE: here's the blog!! 




Love Peace and New Blog Updates,