Friday, November 14, 2008
Gainesville Here I Come
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Venting
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
It's been a while
Friday, September 5, 2008
Monday, September 1, 2008
A Day Off
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
New School Year
With the new school year approaching there is a lot of change going on around me. Change can be a great thing, if it is positive. Most of the change that is occurring at the moment is great, I have wonderful new roomies and I'm actually looking forward to the semester. I start a new job tomorrow, well I have training for my SI position for Psyc 227 and I'm hoping that job doesn't add to my stress level. I'm still working at Addam's and we've recently had new employees join us for back to school rush and football session (so far no major problems have risen). I'm taking 4 classes and I just feel like the change from last school year to this school year is going to be a good one. I have grown so much this summer and so have the people that I have in my life which makes me supper excited. I have come so far from when I was 19 and with the help of a new counselor after next week I plan to work on relying on God more instead of using people as my crutch. I hope all the change in my life is for the better. Speaking of change, I have a new used car and I am dying my hair currently (waiting on it to set in). Things to add to all the changing going on as I start the new school year would be exercise and eating healthy. If anyone would like to help with either of those that would be awesome. Until next time. :-)
Sunday, August 17, 2008
It's been a while I know

Friday, August 1, 2008
Last Day
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Moving
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Checking Out

Sunday, July 27, 2008
don't want to leave
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
Goodbyes Suck

Today started the long list of goodbyes as people are leaving to go to events on the west coast and Olivia flew back to the UK. Although the guys are coming back to Cocoa in a couple of weeks, I will be back in Columbia. Today I am emotionally drained from goodbyes. I'm trying not to focus on the goodbyes and trying to look at it as a see you later and we'll keep in touch. That's the great thing about technology these days, you can be really far away and still talk to the ones that you love. Yeah I said it the people that I have met here I truly care and love deeply. They have taught me so much about this world and how everyone is connected through their stories. I wish that I could stay a little long, but that would probably make the goodbyes even harder. We've been through tough times and great times and I will always remember the times we have shared. Crazy videos, laughing at all hours of the day, and even all the drama that comes with such a large amount of people living in one house. The people here have become a part of my family and I plan on traveling to visit them over the next year. There are so many people to visit and I'm looking forward to seeing new places and possibly flying again. :-)
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Lake Aurora
Well I'm sitting here at a camp in Lake Aurora and am amazed at how much the kids here want to get involved, either by buying a shirt or supporting us through donation, and we've had a few express interest in wanting to help from where they are living. Last night there was a message about love and what "love is." I think it's amazing that Renee was able to speak freely about how her faith helped her get through the rough times over the past few years and how she's working towards healing and redemption. It was also cool to learn that Renee and I have more in common in our stories than I thought we did. That's something I've learned over my time here, that although we all come from different walks of life we all are bonded together through our brokenness and need to be whole through Christ. I love the message that is being presented to those who we are trying to reach. You are not alone. You are loved. There is hope. Rescue is possible. I believe that we all need to hear all of these things no matter where we are in our walks of life. We all need some sense of purpose and with purpose (in my opinion) comes hope in things to come. That's all I've got for now, but I have a post that is developing while I process a few things. There's something to look forward to (I guess).
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Mandatory Fun Week
This week has been mandatory fun week, but I've been a little ill so I've missed out on some of the fun. That's ok cause I got some much needed rest. I've now bounced back and ready to enjoy game night tonight, Pannera Bread in the morning, and Melting Pot tomorrow afternoon. Besides all the fun happening this week I've had a lot of good conversations. I've learned that we are all human and have made mistakes when it comes to relating to people. Things have hit chaos, and we've had to have deal breaking conversations. I am so grateful for the people that are apart of this community, I'm glad that we all care about one another to have the hard conversations that we have had over this past week. I've learned from these people that love is possible in every way. Thank you God for allowing me to live and work with these people.
check out our Real World Cocoa video on youtube
Friday, June 20, 2008
end of week 3
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
good day
Thursday, June 12, 2008
opposite days


Monday, June 9, 2008
cold stone
Friday, June 6, 2008
Back in Ocala
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Adjusting is VERY Difficult
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Day One and Two
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Hello Cooca
Friday, May 30, 2008
Goodbye Ocala
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Hello Ocala
Good bye Columbia
That's all for now. I've got to shower, wash dishes, pack a few more things into the car and sleep. GOD IS USING THIS LIFE FOR FAR BETTER THINGS THAN I WOULD HAVE CHOSEN TO USE IT FOR AND I'M SO THANKFUL.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
update on support raising
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
We are the Champions my friends
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Championship Game
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Support Letter
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Saturday, May 3, 2008
internship
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
The story that started TWLOHA
TO WRITE LOVE ON HER ARMS by Jamie Tworkowski
Pedro the Lion is loud in the speakers, and the city waits just outside our open windows. She sits and sings, legs crossed in the passenger seat, her pretty voice hiding in the volume. Music is a safe place and Pedro is her favorite. It hits me that she won't see this skyline for several weeks, and we will be without her. I lean forward, knowing this will be written, and I ask what she'd say if her story had an audience. She smiles. "Tell them to look up. Tell them to remember the stars."
I would rather write her a song, because songs don't wait to resolve, and because songs mean so much to her. Stories wait for endings, but songs are brave things bold enough to sing when all they know is darkness. These words, like most words, will be written next to midnight, between hurricane and harbor, as both claim to save her.
Renee is 19. When I meet her, cocaine is fresh in her system. She hasn't slept in 36 hours and she won't for another 24. It is a familiar blur of coke, pot, pills and alcohol. She has agreed to meet us, to listen and to let us pray. We ask Renee to come with us, to leave this broken night. She says she'll go to rehab tomorrow, but she isn't ready now. It is too great a change. We pray and say goodbye and it is hard to leave without her.
She has known such great pain; haunted dreams as a child, the near-constant presence of evil ever since. She has felt the touch of awful naked men, battled depression and addiction, and attempted suicide. Her arms remember razor blades, fifty scars that speak of self-inflicted wounds. Six hours after I meet her, she is feeling trapped, two groups of "friends" offering opposite ideas. Everyone is asleep. The sun is rising. She drinks long from a bottle of liquor, takes a razor blade from the table and locks herself in the bathroom. She cuts herself, using the blade to write "FUCK UP" large across her left forearm.
The nurse at the treatment center finds the wound several hours later. The center has no detox, names her too great a risk, and does not accept her. For the next five days, she is ours to love. We become her hospital and the possibility of healing fills our living room with life. It is unspoken and there are only a few of us, but we will be her church, the body of Christ coming alive to meet her needs, to write love on her arms.
She is full of contrast, more alive and closer to death than anyone I've known, like a Johnny Cash song or some theatre star. She owns attitude and humor beyond her 19 years, and when she tells me her story, she is humble and quiet and kind, shaped by the pain of a hundred lifetimes. I sit privileged but breaking as she shares. Her life has been so dark yet there is some soft hope in her words, and on consecutive evenings, I watch the prettiest girls in the room tell her that she's beautiful. I think it's God reminding her.
I've never walked this road, but I decide that if we're going to run a five-day rehab, it is going to be the coolest in the country. It is going to be rock and roll. We start with the basics; lots of fun, too much Starbucks and way too many cigarettes.
Thursday night she is in the balcony for Band Marino, Orlando's finest. They are indie-folk-fabulous, a movement disguised as a circus. She loves them and she smiles when I point out the A&R man from Atlantic Europe, in town from London just to catch this show.
She is in good seats when the Magic beat the Sonics the next night, screaming like a lifelong fan with every Dwight Howard dunk. On the way home, we stop for more coffee and books, Blue Like Jazz and (Anne Lamott's) Travelling Mercies.
On Saturday, the Taste of Chaos tour is in town and I'm not even sure we can get in, but doors do open and minutes after parking, we are on stage for Thrice, one of her favorite bands. She stands ten feet from the drummer, smiling constantly. It is a bright moment there in the music, as light and rain collide above the stage. It feels like healing. It is certainly hope.
Sunday night is church and many gather after the service to pray for Renee, this her last night before entering rehab. Some are strangers but all are friends tonight. The prayers move from broken to bold, all encouraging. We're talking to God but I think as much, we're talking to her, telling her she's loved, saying she does not go alone. One among us knows her best. Ryan sits in the corner strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs she's inspired.
After church our house fills with friends, there for a few more moments before goodbye. Everyone has some gift for her, some note or hug or piece of encouragement. She pulls me aside and tells me she would like to give me something. I smile surprised, wondering what it could be. We walk through the crowded living room, to the garage and her stuff.
She hands me her last razor blade, tells me it is the one she used to cut her arm and her last lines of cocaine five nights before. She's had it with her ever since, shares that tonight will be the hardest night and she shouldn't have it. I hold it carefully, thank her and know instantly that this moment, this gift, will stay with me. It hits me to wonder if this great feeling is what Christ knows when we surrender our broken hearts, when we trade death for life.
As we arrive at the treatment center, she finishes: "The stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds. We miss them in the storms. Tell them to remember hope. We have hope."
I have watched life come back to her, and it has been a privilege. When our time with her began, someone suggested shifts but that is the language of business. Love is something better. I have been challenged and changed, reminded that love is that simple answer to so many of our hardest questions. Don Miller says we're called to hold our hands against the wounds of a broken world, to stop the bleeding. I agree so greatly.
We often ask God to show up. We pray prayers of rescue. Perhaps God would ask us to be that rescue, to be His body, to move for things that matter. He is not invisible when we come alive. I might be simple but more and more, I believe God works in love, speaks in love, is revealed in our love. I have seen that this week and honestly, it has been simple: Take a broken girl, treat her like a famous princess, give her the best seats in the house. Buy her coffee and cigarettes for the coming down, books and bathroom things for the days ahead. Tell her something true when all she's known are lies. Tell her God loves her. Tell her about forgiveness, the possibility of freedom, tell her she was made to dance in white dresses. All these things are true.
We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home.
I have learned so much in one week with one brave girl. She is alive now, in the patience and safety of rehab, covered in marks of madness but choosing to believe that God makes things new, that He meant hope and healing in the stars. She would ask you to remember.