it isn’t what. it is why.

I bet most kids had a growth chart when they were young. My parents hung ours on the wall and my brother and I would stand against the wall as they marked our height with the date.  I would always spin around quickly to see how much I grew since our last measurement.  We always wanted to be taller and so when my brother finally passed my mom in height, it was a good day for him.  It was easy for us to love growth as kids.  I suppose adults don’t find the same satisfaction when their growth is measured because often times the only growth they see is in the increase of their weight.

But there is something that still fascinates me about growth.  I get excited to see people get taller and I get excited when people change and become something better.  For me, life is about growth.

You could only imagine the anticipation that filled my mind as I opened my favorite piece of mail that comes all the way from Mozambique, Africa once a year.  It was the Namanjavira ADP Annual Progress Report.  In usual fashion, I hurried as I opened the letter, hoping the report was good.

To summarize what I read:

Felizardo just turned six years old.  His health is good and he is in 2nd grade.  He attends Sunday School and Sunday Mass.  His favorite hobbies are soccer and jacks in box.  But most importantly, through World Vision, his family received mosquito nets this year.

I looked at the picture to the left and there he stood, dressed with the shirt that I sent him and the same pair of shoes he wore when I met him last year.  He is posing with a thumbs up and a much happier look on his face.  His skin and hair look healthy and he is so much taller than last year.

Meeting Felizardo changed my life and seeing his progress in the last year reminds me of the belief I have in World Vision to help change kids’ lives.  But then it reminds me of the belief I have in a Big God who loves to work the impossible for people.  Although it’s difficult to gauge the rate of growth against impossible things, I know that’s part of the mysteriousness of God.  And I have to trust that if a shirt I mail from Minnesota can find it’s way onto the back of a six-year old boy all the way into the deep villages of Mozambique, then surely God can do a big work in a home of two people who have forgotten what it feels like to stand against the wall as a child to see how much they’ve grown.  Because whether you’re six years old or 60, becoming a better you is something we all want in life and though sometimes it is hard to see progress, often times, other people can see what you cannot see.  And when the progress reports are submitted, you too will see that hope is alive in what once seemed so impossible to score on the growth charts.

I recently discovered I haven’ t moved far from the place I was in a few months ago.  And so I decided to pack up my things and find a new place to settle.  I didn’t know exactly where I wanted to go, but I did remember a place I passed by over a year ago.  So, last week, I found myself in a place that has some familarity, but it’s mostly full of newness and unknown.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve never really known where I wanted to be one day.  Some love that sort of thing, while I would much rather know, settle, and call it home for a long time.  Or so I think.  There is a newfound part of me that enjoys the adventure and very small doses of the unknown.  Unsure of what I have to lose, I set out to climb my Inca Trail.

It’s really because of you.  Yep, you, as in the person reading this writing.  For some reason, I believe I have something to say and for some reason you agree.  And so you read and leave comments from time to time.  Those comments are rich nuggets I’ve been collecting over time and I’ve finally decided to do something with it.  Your words have been a light as I’ve wandered in unlit places.  So to everyone who has taken the time to share the ways this writing has warmed you or has encouraged your pursuits towards what really matters in life, thank you.  My next steps up this steep mountain could not be done without your love.

With the deepest support from my best, I’ll be taking some big steps in unknown territory.  I want to do more with these words on a page and courage is required.  I’ll be writing more and making it a larger focus in my life so I can truly do what I love, full time.  This means you might be seeing weekly trends with this blog, slight changes & updates, and broader range of categories. 

I can’t do this without you.  Please continue to read and to share your thoughts.  And if you leave inspired, I’d encourage you to send a link of inspiration to another person.  And if at anytime, there is a topic or theme you’d like to see on this site — don’t keep it to yourself.  Encourage me to grow. 

As I continue to climb this mountain and begin embracing difficulty in the terrain, I will hold steadfast to the reason for my words.  Because it isn’t what a man does that really matters; it is why, and that makes all the difference.

It’s almost been a million miles and I’m going to keep climbing.  Because I know the people I meet along the way have a story to share and I have to be there to tell it.

While on our honeymoon in St. Lucia, Jason & I agreed we needed to take some time to step outside the resort and explore a bit of the culture on the island.  On Wednesday, (the only day it rained) we got in a van with another couple and made our way to a fishing town named Castries where the Marketplace was located.  We were so eager to catch a glimpse of what life could be like for the residents of St. Lucia.

We walked up and down rows of vendors.  As in most places, they sell everything.  We decided it would be fun to find a piece of art for our home that would remind us of our trip.  We were drawn to a variety of faceless statues.  Some were wood and others were stone, but they were so unique.  Intentional about using our Dave Ramsey negotiation skills, we gathered information across the building on the cost.

Meanwhile, we walked down an aisle where a woman was singing old church hymns.  We commented on her joy that accompanied her song and started a brief dialogue.  We continued browsing, but realizing we were running out of time, we knew we had to make a decision on which statue to purchase.

We ‘randomly’ walked down the same aisle where we encountered the joyful lady.  As we stood behind her, she started singing a song I haven’t heard since I was 10 years old.

“He touched me.  Oh He touched me.  And oh what joy that floods my soul.  Something happened and now I know, He touched me and made me whole.”

Immediately, the song reminded me of my mom.  This image from 17 years ago entered my mind.  I saw her standing in church, just belting out this song as if every thread of her being believed the words to be so true.

I rested my hand on this lady’s shoulder and I said, “That song reminds me of my mom.  I haven’t heard it in years.  Thank you so much for singing it today.”

She gave me a hug and smiled as she passed along a blessing.

Shortly thereafter, we walked outside to meet the other couple and our driver.  Still somewhat emotional about the moment inside, she walked up to us with a bag in her hand.  She asks, “Is you mother still alive?”  ”Yes,” I respond. “Then I want you to give this to her.” She replied.  ”My name is Linda.  Please pray for me.”

I gave Linda a hug and thanked her for the incredible blessing.  She smiled and walked back inside.

In disbelief at what just happened, tears flooded my eyes.  We could have spent hundreds of dollars on things to remind us and friends of St. Lucia (much like the couple who came with us did), but nothing could have been purchased to mean what the gifted hand carved wooden vase means to me.

There is something so special about gifts.  You can never buy that feeling you get when someone gives you something special to them.