seventh thing that ruined me for the ordinary

For the seventh thing that ruined me for the ordinary, we shall peak into my world of spontaneous decision making, and love for animals.

A couple of years ago I offered to help my, now good friends, move into their new house which was very close to where I was living.  I didn't know them at the time, but we had mutual friends who had mentioned they would be moving.  I have a flexible work schedule and knew I would be around.  I love helping people and serving when I can so I offered a helping hand, which to my delight, was accepted.

I showed up in the morning to help unload boxes from the moving truck, and put things away inside.  Later in the evening I saw on Facebook that they had found a baby goose in their garage after moving everything in.

After a quick moment of thought, I quickly texted my new friends to offer to take the baby goose and raise it.

How hard could raising a goose be?

I lived in an apartment at the time.

An apartment on top of a grocery store (that is a story for another occasion…)  and we weren't allowed to have pets.  I figured this goose looked tiny enough, I could keep him in a giant bin in my apartment and we would be just fine. I named him Duck Duck.  Duck Duck, the Goose.

All children laughed when they found out Duck Duck's name.  The children and I, we understand each other.

We got along really well! 

Although sometimes Duck Duck had a mind of his own…

So Duck Duck lived in a giant box full of wood chips.  He would often knock over his water bowl. And chirped all the time.  

One thing I learned about geese.  They grow really, really fast. Within weeks I had a pre-teen goose living in my apartment. 

Geese are also quite territorial.  And they imprint.  So this goose, which I had raised it from a day of it hatching, thought I was it's mother.  Duck Duck literally followed me everywhere. He would waddle behind me anywhere I went, and was known for chasing and hissing others... Once he became a pre-teen goose, I tried to set him free. We drove to some trails near my house, and I set him down next to me when we got out of the car.  We walked down to the lake, and Duck Duck dove in the water and swam around.  I tried to get up and leave before he noticed, but Duck Duck ran out of the water squawking the whole way, and followed me all the way back to the car.  

We were buddies.  

One day that tiny little goose started honking.

That's when I knew it was time for him to go.  I could not let one of my life stories become, 'I got kicked out of my apartment because they realized I had a pet when the goose started to honk to loud.'

I drove to a pond near my house where I knew a lot of geese lived,  and I left Duck Duck with a new goose family.

Later that day I figured I should probably go check on him to make sure he was ok.  Turns out geese aren't big on accepting strangers into their families.

Poor little Duck Duck was all by himself standing in some tall grass.  I scooped the little guy up and wrapped him in a blanket.  He rested his head on my arm for the whole drive.

My new friends, who I had gotten Duck Duck from, said he could live with them until he was big enough to fend for himself.  They lived on the canal of a big lake, so when he wanted to go, he could go. Turns out Duck Duck wasn't big on goodbyes, either.  One day he was just gone. He ran away from the backyard, never to return.

I like to believe he lives happily on the lake.  And that this winter he migrated south very early this year, and missed the polar vortex.

sixth thing that ruined me for the ordinary

For the sixth thing that ruined me for the ordinary, we shall recall a story that so perfectly encompasses the things that happen in my life.  Random, ridiculous, and would likely not happen to anyone else.

In 2006 I was living in New Zealand working with a wonderful organization called Youth With a Mission.  I was in the middle of the first phase of our school, and a big group of us were going to take a weekend trip.  Our weekend began by going to a bouldering competition close to where we were living. Bouldering is basically free climbing boulders. 

A popular place for bouldering in North Canterbury. Also where scenes from The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe were filmed :)

We brought drinks and snacks to hand out to the contestants and people there watching. We stayed for the afternoon and then got into the van, having no idea where we were headed. We just knew we were spending the night away from the school.

Not long after we had started driving we pulled off into a small parking area off the road, hiking trails going in different directions.  We found out that we would be camping for the night.  We had a few options, there were a couple of tents, or we could just take our sleeping bags and sleep under the stars. 

Before we found our spot to sleep for the night we were going to have dinner together.  It was an interesting meal of rice, beans, and bread. We tried to figure out how to cook the rice over the fire, all of us laughing and joking, hoping the clouds would move past and we could get through our camping trip with no rain.

Our humble dinner on our camping trip :)

After dinner we looked in the van and tents were distributed.  Some people decided to stay together, and some went off on their own.  We agreed we would meet back at the vans in the morning to have breakfast before heading home.  I decided that stay on my own. I loved all the people I was with, but my introverted self needed a little time on my own.  I had spent the past several months sharing a room with seven other girls. A night to myself sounded great.

I gathered my sleeping bag, my little pillow, and my backpack and headed to the trails.  I didn't want to hike to far since I was on my own, so I found a cozy spot just off the trail, but close enough that I knew it would be easy to find my friends.  

All cozy in my little sleeping bag, ready to take on my first solo camping experience.

When I looked up, this is what I saw. New Zealand is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.

I snuggled into my sleeping bag, and closed my eyes.  Taking in the quiet, the sound of the wind in the leaves, the sound of the water trickling in the small river behind me.  It was so peaceful, and perfect.  A few minutes later I heard a branch crack, I looked behind me and saw my friend Julie Anna creeping up the path.  

"Awww…. You heard me?! I was going to scare you!" Julie Anna laughed as she walked up.

"Ha! Caught you before you could scare me," we talked for a few minutes, before Julie Anna headed back to the trail walking further up the mountain.

Several minutes later, I heard a branch crack again.  Dusk was setting in, as the sun went down and the clouds got thicker.  Figuring Julie Anna was trying to sneak up on me again, I ignored the sound, and rolled over in my sleeping bag.  I heard another step, and one more. Before I knew it - there was something standing very close to me. I quickly realized whatever was near me wasn't Julie Anna.  I felt breath on the back of my neck, as a cold wet nose began sniffing my hair.  I didn't think, I just reacted.  I crawled into the bottom of my sleeping bag, holding the top closed with both hands as my heart raced.  I never turned around, didn't open my eyes to see what it was - I just knew that there was an animal who, in my mind, wanted to eat me for dinner.

My mind raced as I heard the animal walking around me, sniffing my sleeping bag.  After a few circles, the animal laid down next to me.  It was probably a bear.  I was going to be eaten by a bear in a foreign country. How in the world was I supposed to get out of this situation?

The only options I could come up with were to roll away in my sleeping bag, and hope that I didn't roll into the river.  So. That idea didn't seem great.  Or I could slowly try to unzip the bottom of the sleeping bag and escape before the animal could attack.

I chose the second option, trying to unzip the sleeping bag, but it startled the animal, who only moved closer to me.  I decided maybe just crawling out the top of the sleeping bag would be a better idea - so I let go of the top and peering out only to see two little paws at the opening of the sleeping bag. But they weren't big paws. Maybe I would get out of this alive.  I let the top open a bit more, and a bit more, until the animals face appeared in the opening.

It was a puppy.

Trust me.  If it had been you, you would have thought the sweet little puppy was a bear as well.

I laughed and crawled out, standing up next to the dog.  I looked around, and saw my friend Jessica sitting nearby.  

"Jess! Hey, Jessica! Look what I found!"  Jessica came running over, with a sandwich in hand.

"Oh my goodness!!!! Hi puppy, hi little puppy! Aww… where did you come from?! Are you hungry?" And Jess fed the dog her sandwich.

"Hmm… Maybe that wasn't the best idea. That was my only food."  We laughed, and decided to bring the dog back down the vans to see what we should do.  As we walked down the path we heard our friend Rebecca,  "Hey, guys! Look what… Wait, did you find a dog too?"  Low and behold, Rebecca had a small dog as well.  All of us laughed, bringing both dogs back to the van where our leaders were camping. 

Our new camping friends.

The clouds unleashed and it began to rain.  We decided to all stay in the tent together and head home in the morning.  When we woke up, this is what we walked out to

Stunning beauty in this country. And the perfect end to our weekend getaway. 

Just before we left to head home the next morning, a van pulled up.  Two men got out, asking if we'd seen any dogs.  We laughed, as the dogs ran around the side of our tent to the two men.  We explained how they had found us camping the night before.  Turns out the men had been out hunting the day previous and their dogs had run off after something, and they hadn't been able to find them.  We returned their pets, and loaded up the van to go home.  A memorable weekend for sure.

It's things like this that make me realize - my life isn't ordinary. And I love it.

fifth thing that ruined me for the ordinary

The fifth thing that ruined me for the ordinary is one of my favorite days. In 2006 I spent one month in India.  We visited a  village one afternoon that was extremely poor.  Large families lived in small one or two room cement buildings with dirt floors.  Often all of the belongings of the family could fit in a single trunk.  There were small fire pits with metal pots in the middle of the dirt floors for boiling water and making food which they served on their stainless steel plates. We were not allowed to bring any belongings with us into the villages, for it was a known fact that these people made a habit of steeling from those around them.  Although ultimately their sweet nature won us over, we were reminded by our translators that we were entering into a subculture of India where stealing our belongings to sell on the streets could literally mean the life or death of a starving child.

As we entered the puppet village, instantly children swarmed us.   Our translator told us that we would be splitting up into teams of two or three to go into the homes of families from the village to visit for a couple of hours.  

As we walked into a small two room cement building the woman who owned the house motioned for us to sit on the floor.  There was a small chalk board up on the wall, a single trunk in the corner of the room next to a drum, and we could hear the crackle of a fire in the room next to us.  The doorway to the house from both the front and the back stood open with no door or curtain separating it from the street. The woman was in her early twenties, and already had seven children ranging in ages from 9 down to a small baby who couldn’t have been more than five or six months old. All of the children gathered around smiling and laughing.  The oldest children chattered away in Hindi, followed by silence as they awaited our answers.  

I had the tiny baby girl in my arms as her brothers and sisters climbed all over me as if I were a human jungle gym.  The kids laughed as I tickled their tiny bellies with my free hand.  One little girl stood over my shoulder asking me the same question over and over.  I kept replying with a shrug of my shoulders to indicate I was not sure what she was asking me.  She slowed down her speech looking at me directly in the eye as she asked again with a sweet smile, the quick hindi words rolling off of her tongue in anticipation. 

After asking me several times she ran over tugging on the shirt of our translator.  She whispered the words shyly into her ear as she pointed at me with a giggle and ran by my side to await the answer.  Our translator stopped, smiling at me before translating the question into english.

“She would like to know if you like children,” the translator asked. With a broad smile I felt my heart melt. 

“Tell her I love children,” I replied, knowing that a piece of my heart would be left right here in the puppet village.  Upon hearing my answer all of the children squealed in delight as they began dancing around me laughing.  

The next several hours were filled with the kids singing and dancing for us, teaching us clapping games, and asking us questions.  They brought out the drum that they used for puppet shows trying to teach us how to play.  It wasn’t the type of drum that I would find at home, but either end of the instrument was a drum — a two for one deal.  The tiny children attempted to show me how I was supposed to pull the sound from the middle of the drum, not hit either end expecting music.  Perplexed I made an attempt causing the room to erupt in laughter.

The woman who owned the house motioned for her kids to go into the other room giving them directions.  Shortly after they showed up with a single metal plate with homemade naan bread, and a can of sauce to dip it in along with one single metal cup filled to the brim with cold water.

We had not seen where the food or water had come from, but it wasn’t even a question in our minds.  These people had opened up their home to us, shared their laughter, and they were now offering us what we were sure was the only food they had in their home.  We were not going to offend them by denying the meal, so we ate and drank with smiles thanking them for their kindness and hospitality.

The woman walked to the corner of the room opening up the trunk and pulling out a beautifully decorated sari. The bright colors and jewels along the fabric glittered in the sun that came through the open door.  The woman motioned for me to stand as she dressed me in the sari, telling me through the translator that this had been her wedding sari.  I felt so honored that this woman felt comfortable enough around me that she would share something so treasured, and special.  

We had made a genuine connection with these people.  The children ran in and out of the house laughing and the tired frame of this frail woman, who really was only a few years older than I was, smiled at us from the floor of her home.  The type of smile that broke through language barriers.  The type of smile that told us all she was grateful for our presence, and thankful we were in her home.

Soon the leader of the base we were working with showed up at the door of the small house telling us it was time to go.  My heart sank at the thought of leaving the house and going back to the YWAM base.  My heart was so happy in this place.  It didn’t matter that there was no furniture.  I didn’t care that there were no bathrooms, or lights.  I felt joy being around these people.

As we got into our rickshaw we literally had to distract the children so that we could drive away.  Kids chased the rickshaw down the street waving and smiling as their laughter rang through our ears.  I waved back knowing that this day would be etched in my memory for eternity.

But it's things like this that make me realize - my life isn't ordinary. And I love it.

fourth thing that ruined me for the ordinary.

For the fourth thing that ruined me for the ordinary we shall chat about some friends of mine.  Because I feel like I am so lucky, and I get something in my life that hardly anyone in the world gets to experience.  Literal life long friends.

Our dads worked together, played baseball together, and our moms were friends.  We were born seven and a half months apart.  From the time that I was born (I’m younger) we have been friends.  A friendship that spans a lifetime.  

Jackie and Amanda are twins.  We went to school together and growing up we were basically inseparable.  When we were little we played dress up after school.  We played t-ball together, soccer, gymnastics (that didn’t last long...) and we would send each other postcards from family vacations. We made obstacle courses in the backyard, that inevitably ended in one of us getting our hair caught in the chain of the swing-set.  When Jackie went into labor with her son she told me by leaving a voicemail with a quote from ‘Baby Mama’. And one of my cats...  Well.  Chloe used to be Jackie’s cat.  But I adopted her. 

 At our dads baseball tournament in Florida when we were five.  This is the trip when our parents left us playing on the beach, and we buried all of our sand toys so we could have a treasure hunt.  Those sand toys were never found again.

Another baseball tournament, somewhere hot in the summer. Amanda claims that she hates Dr.Pepper, but we will always have this proof.

Basically they were the sisters I never had.

I’m an only child, but growing up I never felt like one.  I had two sisters.  They just lived at a different house and they were technically part of a different family. But their family will always be like my family, and mine like theirs.  They’re some of the only people I know will always be there, can make me laugh, will cry with me, and be real.  They’re my pals.  And they’ve ruined me for the ordinary in one of the best ways.  Because from the beginning, and forever, they will always be my very best friends.

They even came and stood in the freezing cold to cheer me on when I finished my 

first marathon.  Love them!

third thing that ruined me for the ordinary

Alright.  I guess that I will be good to my word, and for the third thing that ruined me for the ordinary,  I’ll tell you about that night in Lyttleton. It’s a long story.  Lengthy - but epic.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, just read the second thing that ruined me for the ordinary, and then come back here and finish this story.

My friends and I embarked on a week long journey to serve people around New Zealand.  We hitchhiked for hundreds of miles encouraging people, cleaning, leading youth services, cooking dinners, and making new friends.  It was finally two nights before we had to make our way back to our school, and we finally felt like it was time to head to the town of Lyttleton, on the Banks Peninsula.  We had been praying all week about where we should go, and all week long, the places that we thought we were supposed to go didn’t seem to exist.  We would pray and feel like we were supposed to go by all the sailboats - but we were inland.  We would pray and feel like we should be going to the place with the tunnel, by all of the white anchors, to the top of the hill - but whenever we would pray and hear those things, they were never around.  As we made our way into Lyttleton we found the only way to get into the city was to take a mile long tunnel through the mountain.  As the bus emerged to the other side of the tunnel we were met by a bay of sailboats.  We turned left, and as we came around the corner we climbed a huge hill, and on the street was a restaurant that had white anchors leading the pathway to the front door.  

My friends and I stared at each other awestruck.  Everything that we had prayed about all week, all of the places we were supposed to go - everything pointed to Lyttleton.  The three of us had been on the bus with a little old woman, a teenager wearing headphones, and a middle aged man.  At the first stop we got off with the middle aged man, and we headed down the street to a hostel.  We decided to ask if they would let us work at the hostel for the day, in exchange for a bed.  The chances were slim - but why not ask. It turned out there weren’t enough beds available, but the girl at the front desk said there were three churches in town.  It was late, so there was likely no one there - but if we wanted to go check they would probably let us sleep in the church for free.  We took a map, thanking the girl at the front desk, and made our way into the town.

When we walked out of the hostel the man from the bus was at the ATM next door.  He waved to us, and walked the other way.  We made our way to the churches on the map, and knocked persistently on the doors of two of the churches with no answer.  At this point it was getting late, and we had no place to stay.  As we made our way to the third church it started raining, this was our last hope for the night, we prayed trusting that God would provide.

We walked up to the last address, and saw the church sitting on top of a hill with a set of stairs leading to the front door.  As we stood at the base of the stairs the man from the bus walked by yet again.  He waved once more as he passed, quickly turning around and coming back towards us.

“Excuse me, I seem to keep running into you tonight,” he said.

“Yes, we have seen you quite a few times,” the three of us laughed.  We chatted with him a moment explaining why we were in New Zealand, and what we were doing for the week.

“I certainly wish I could help you, but I have a full house tonight...” he responded as he looked at the ground, “But I have a tent! Would you like to borrow my tent?!” He seemed pleased to be able to offer some help.

“That would be great! Is there a place in town we could put the tent up to stay for the night?” We asked, grateful our prayer was being answered.

“Oh. Well... Not really.” He replied looking away.

“Oh. Oh, that’s ok.  You know what, I’m sure we’ll be able to stay at this church here, it’s ok.  Thank you so much for the offer though! Have a good night!”  We waved at the man as we began walking towards the church.  As the man walked away, I turned back around.  “Excuse me, sir?” I asked walked towards him, “What was your name, I’m sorry I didn’t catch it when we first met.”

“Oh, that’s alright, I’m Michael.”

“It’s nice to meet you Michael, thank you again.  Have a good night!”  I turned around to join my friends, and took one look at Geoff’s face knowing something was wrong.  

“You guys. Get up here now, we have to talk!”  Geoff bounded to the top of the stairs, his face white as a ghost, and hands shaking.

“Dude... What’s the deal?” I asked, both concerned and slightly amused.

“Did he just say his name was Michael?” Geoff asked, as Katie and I nodded.  “We were supposed to stay with him.  If that was Michael, we needed to stay with him.”

“What are you talking about?” Katie and I stared at Geoff confused.  

“We were praying this afternoon and I kept thinking we should stay with Michael, I thought I was just thinking that anyway, but I think God was saying to stay with him.  We were in Christchurch and I had met this guy named Michael there last week so I thought I was just making it up  - but I wasn’t! That was Michael!” Geoff was flustered as he explained the story.

“Nice. That’s awesome, thank you so much for mentioning that 2 minutes ago when he was standing RIGHT in front of us! Perfect...” I answered.  There was no grace in my answer. I was simply mad he hadn’t said anything.  “Ok. Fine. You know what, let’s just pray about it.  We can’t really do anything now, but if God really wanted us to stay with him, He’ll figure it out.  So... Alright, Jesus... If we’re supposed to stay with Michael just - bring him back here.” I prayed, trying hard not to sound frustrated.

Just as I prayed we heard a sound to our right.  We looked up and saw Michael standing a hundred yards away staring at us.  The three of us stood there, completely taken aback once again.  How did he even get there?  We were standing right at the top of the stairs, and he had never come up behind us. But there he was, standing along the tree line in the dark.

“Do you still need a place to stay?” he asked us.  We nodded yes, silently.  “Follow me. You can stay at my house.” he said, and walked away.  We looked at each other confused, trying to figure out what to do.

“Didn’t he say that....”

“Yeah. He said his house was full.  I don’t know. Come on, let’s go.”  We ran to catch up with Michael, seeing that he lived just next door.  We walked into a silent house, as he explained his wife and child were sleeping, and offered us some food.  We sat and ate explaining how we had come to be there, what we were wanting to do, and asking how we could help him.  What could we do to serve him, or his wife?  

He literally had almost no reaction.  There was no emotion, no expression on his face. He never even sat down with us, just stood awkwardly by the door listening as we talked to him.  

“You can do the dishes for my wife,” he motioned towards the overflowing sink.

“Sure. Yes, absolutely, we can do that,” we answered, feeling uneasy.  After eating we walked into the living room as Michael showed us where we could sleep. 

“If you want to take a shower, you’re going to have to shower tonight. We don’t have hot water during the day here.  There’s not hot water, so you’ll have to shower now, do you want to shower?”  We didn’t answer right away, confused because we were only 40 minutes from where we had been living for four months.  We were 15 minutes outside of the biggest city on the island - and everyone had hot water all the time.  Living in New Zealand was like living in any other first world nation.  You didn’t have to worry about things like having hot water.

“We’re fine...” we answered. As we started washing dishes. Michael seemed nervous, and agitated, pacing around and not looking at us when he talked.  It was a strange and uncomfortable atmosphere.   Geoff asked if there was anything we could be praying for him about.  He became suddenly calm stopping, and simply answered, “No. I mean. I figured you would be doing that anyway,” and he walked away.

After finishing the dishes we sat in the living room and heard Michael from the kitchen again, “Are you sure you don’t want to shower? There won’t be hot water in the morning, so you should really shower now.” 

We looked at each other, uneasy.  “Do you guys want to stay here?” All of us shook our heads no at the same time. Michael came walking down the hallway and stopped in the doorway of the living room.  At this point the rain was really coming down outside and it was kind of windy.  The whole house was quiet.  

“I thought of something you could pray for,” he said as he looked past us, out the front window.

“Sure, yes, anything,” we answered, waiting expectantly.

“I know this man...” he spoke quietly, still looking out the window behind us, “He killed someone once, and he just can’t seem to forgive himself for it.” Our eyes widened, as the blood drained from our faces. “He’s not the kind of man you would want to meet on a rainy night in Lyttleton,” he said with a small smile on his face.  It was silent, the sound of the rain beating on the tin roof became haunting. “Everyone thinks he’s a monster, but really... He’s like a scared child inside.”  Michael never made eye contact, just stared out the window as he talked.  “Hey! Have you ever seen the last Lord of the Rings movie?” He asked, finally looking at us.  We nodded our heads yes.  “You know the part where they're waiting for the battle to begin, and you can hear the rain beating off of their armor?" He asked, the sound of the rain on the tin roof seemingly louder now, "Sends chills down your spine, doesn’t it?” He asked, laughing as he walked back down the hallway.

“Get your bags, we’re leaving!” Geoff said, all of us panicked.

“Michael, you know... We kind of feel like maybe we did what we needed to do here, and we’re going to go. Thank you so much for dinner, and for offering your home! We’ll be praying for your friend. And for you.”  We made our way to the door, Michael following us.

“If you guys leave, you can’t come back.  This is it. Once the door closes, you can’t come back in.”  We assured him we understood, thanking him again, and as soon as the front door closed behind us, we ran. We ran fast, and we ran far.  We made our way back into Christchurch that night, sleeping on the sidewalk in front of a Salvation Army for a few hours before going back to our home a day early the next morning. 

Maybe Michael was talking about someone he knew, maybe Michael was talking about himself.  We’ll never know for sure.  That’s the closest I ever want to come to finding out.  

But it’s things like this that make me realize - my life isn’t ordinary. And I love it.

second thing that ruined me for the ordinary

The second thing that ruined me for the ordinary was that time I prayed and heard Jesus.  Not audibly.  But I heard Him, which I’m sure makes me sound crazy to some of you.  

Let me explain.

I had been going to church for years.  I believe in God, and I believe Jesus is His Son.  I knew the Bible was important, and that prayer could help with stuff in your life. That’s what I knew at that point.

It was February 2006, and I was living in a tiny little farming town in Oxford, New Zealand.  I was part of a school, a Christian school focused on Knowing God and Making Him Known.  Basically learning what it meant to Know Jesus, and living your life in such a way that it’s evident that you know Him.

Within the school we had been split up into teams of three. We were going to be spending a week serving the people of New Zealand, and we were supposed to get together in our teams to pray about where we should go.  Ask God where He wanted us to be.  I had a hard time with this one. I knew prayer was important, and I knew how to ask -  but I had never heard God answer.

As my teammates and I sat praying, I sat silently listening.  Trying to listen, anyway.  But all I could think it my head was Lyttleton Peninsula.  I was SO annoyed with myself because I just wanted to engage with my teammates in prayer.  I wanted to contribute. Instead, it seemed I was making things up in my head.

We finished praying and they asked what I heard.  I wasn’t going to say anything, but they got it out of me.  I told them I wasn’t really paying attention because I couldn’t stop thinking about Lyttleton Peninsula. I had looked on the map, but it wasn’t a place in New Zealand.  I was embarrassed, and ready to go back to my room.  Just as I was about to get up a friend of ours walked in, who had grown up in the area.  We asked her if Lyttleton Peninsula was a place,

“No.  There’s no Lyttleton Peninsula,”  I looked at the ground as my face turned red, “But there is a city called Lyttleton on the Banks Peninsula.  It’s about 45 minutes from here.”

I sat up straight looking at my friends.  That was seriously God speaking to me? I thought I was just distracting myself! We all began laughing, knowing that must be on the list of places to go serve.  

That highlighted area - that's where we made it the week we served people in New Zealand.  The thing is, we didn't have any money, or a car, or a place to stay.  We would pray every day and ask God where we should go - and now that I knew I could hear Him - it was fun.

We hitchhiked that entire way. We met incredible people! God provided every meal we needed, a warm place to sleep at night, and endless stories. 

In the very top right corner of that highlighted area is Lyttleton.  On the tiny Bank Peninsula just outside of Christchurch, New Zealand. 

To this day I have no clue what our purpose was there.  In fact - that night in Lyttleton was one of the craziest nights of my life.  Maybe that will be the third thing that ruined me for the ordinary...

But it’s things like this that make me realize - my life isn’t ordinary.  And I love it.

one of the things that ruined me for the ordinary

Want to know what the definition of ordinary is?

Commonplace, standard, with no special or distinctive features.

Normal.

So.  I'm not ordinary.
My life is anything but commonplace, or standard.  I have lots of distinctive features, and I am NOT normal.
But I like that.

There are moments in life that define us.  Even just little, tiny things that don't seem to have any lasting significance - until you realize those little tiny things were the big things.

In March 2007 I had just moved back to Michigan, after spending just over a year working with a  non-profit out of New Zealand.  I had lived in community, and spent the previous 14 months of my life volunteering, and serving people.  When I got back to Michigan I resumed a job I had at a little family owned restaurant, and thought about enrolling in school again.  But school… blah… I didn't want to go to school.

It was a little too normal for me.
Oh.
And I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.

So I fought it.   I complained, and just had kind of a bad attitude in general.

Every time that I would get frustrated, or feel like I wanted to run away I would say, "Forget it.  I give up.  I'm going to Guam."  It kind of became my security phrase.  Anytime I was overwhelmed, I would say I was going to move to Guam.  Just up and leave, get out of there.

Honestly, I thought Guam was in Central America.  So in my head, when I said that, I would picture myself driving across North America, crossing the border, and never looking back.

About six months after I had returned to Michigan I was given the opportunity to work with the organization in New Zealand again, that I had been volunteering with previously.  I had never been to the particular school they were asking me to work with.  I didn't know any of the people there, or exactly what my responsibilities would be.

So naturally I dropped everything and moved 8,000 miles away in a moments notice.

When I arrived at the school I found I would in essence be staffing a six month school that ended in leading a three month missions trip overseas.

Turns out I would be leading a group of students on a three month missions trip to Guam.

Which, as it turns out, is a small island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.  Guess I wouldn't have made it if I would have jumped in the car, not looking back.

Finding out I would be venturing out to the place I had stated, dreamed… ok - threatened to move to for months on end.  Saying that little phrase over and over, that I thought had no real significance.

Turns out that was one of the big things.

But it's things like this that make me realize - my life isn't ordinary.  And I love it.