[ nostalgic lessons ]

   then.

   the floating melodies of jazz musicians in the street drifted past us. i paused occasionally to admire the multi-layered buildings, decorated with balconies and ornate black railings that wrapped nearly the entire length of the building. colorful shutters hung on either side of many windows.

   the aromas of spices and baked goods filled the air and lingered. 

   and colors. everywhere. all at once. it was as if festivities had permanently left their mark behind, a perpetual party of sorts with the celebration of eye-catching colors here and there. i noticed the fleur de lis emblem highlighting in various places. 

   there was a warmth. aside from the obvious physical temperature - the culture in itself was welcoming. the people friendly, the food comfortable. 

   new orleans. or, nawlins.

 
   it was 2008. i was there with my youth group for a mission trip, aiding in the rebuilding of houses that were destroyed or otherwise badly damaged from hurricane katrina.

   we had the privilege of exploring the french quarter within the first couple of days being there, all of us taking everything in. eating hush-puppies, collared greens, stuffing my face with beignets, checking out all the bright and cheery things at a flea market, and simply enjoying the relaxed atmosphere.

   we stayed at a church, heartily welcomed by the black pastor who just warmed your soul with his genuine compassion and obvious care for people. he didn't even know us. but that hardly mattered.

   he drove us around the lower 9th ward, where the brunt of the disaster from the water breaching the levy happened. the van was pretty silent.



 
   we were all stunned. and this was three years after the hurricane had hit - and yet the place looked like it had just happened six months ago.

   houses were in ruins, children's toys and stuffed animals lying about, toilets unattached and overturned, wallpaper that was once blue now hung in stained pieces off the wall, a Bible lying open to john on top of a bathtub filled with rubble, and copious amounts of debris everywhere.

   and then meeting the women of the houses we were working on. it would be easy to become bitter in the midst of all this. or to be too proud to accept help. but naw. these women were as stubborn as could be, and yet had the humility and grace to get the help needed. they were so thankful for it.

   the first day of working, we split up between the two houses, and i found myself brushing on a coat of bright white paint onto the side of the freshly hammered wood. i was looking forward to the rest of the week, having grown to love the people we were working with and for in such a short amount of time.

   and then i got sick. not just a snotty nose, i'll-be-fine-pass-me-the-tissues-sick. but the knock ya out, in bed, hacking my lungs out sick.

   i remember laying there, thinking "what the heck was the point."

   what was the point of having come all the way to new orleans if i was going to spend the majority of it in bed. i mean, who in the heck planned that crap.

   sometimes God purposefully waits until we're in a place where we have no choice but to listen to Him and rest. 

   this was such a time.

   one afternoon, while everyone was out, the pastor came in with his Bible and said "i think you need to read this." psalm 41, it was.

   back at home in everyday life, things hadn't been going so well for me. high school sucked, friendships [or lack thereof] sucked, it was all fairly rocky, and i was having a pretty rough time with it.

   so i skeptically took the Bible out of his hand and waited until he left the room to start reading.

   i was taken aback and how crazily accurate the entire chapter was. directly speaking to some obvious points in my life where He wanted to speak peace and rest over. taking away the stress of all the situations.

   and i probably wouldn't have heard or listened unless i was miserably feeling sorry for myself in that little room in the middle of new orleans, louisiana - when all i wanted to do was paint the side of a house. on top of that, it forced me to be in a position of being weak. terrible.

----------------

now.

   i lay in bed, feeling like someone ran me over with a steam roller. and then decided once wasn't enough, so they did it once or twice more for good measure.

   miserable.

   i thought back to a couple of days ago, being at camp as a leader. i still couldn't believe that i'd had to leave only two days into the camp because i got sick. after all that time of looking forward to it and being stoked about finally being to go... seriously? i mean, who in the heck planned that crap.

   i felt so sorry for myself.

   people kept telling me it would like something like six weeks until i would feel better.

   six weeks?! i don't have time for that b.s.

   it's summer, i have things to do, and laying in bed was not one of them.

   for the last few days, i'd been wanting to go visit new orleans again. man i loved that place. you leave a little piece of your heart everywhere you go that you meet amazing people and are touched by their lives. it does something to you. and recently, i started wanting to return, see what it looks like now, explore the city more, eat wonderful food.

   then my thoughts went back to camp.

   "what was the point."

   and in that moment, between questioning the reasoning behind going to camp and having to leave and reminiscing about nawlins - God suddenly threw me a flashback and all of the sudden i was laying on that little blowup mattress in my sleeping bag on the floor of the church in new orleans, feeling miserable.

   "see some similarities here?" God seemed to be asking.

   oh.

   right.

   see, God has no problem with interrupting our plans and the way we think things are supposed to happen in order to completely take us aside and make sure we rest. and become healthy again. in all aspects, not just physical.

   i came home from denmark expecting to hit the ground running, get my entire life all figured out within the first couple of weeks. new friends, great future prospects and plans, job ideas/applications, the whole shebang.

   which is completely unrealistic, obviously. duh.

   so i was suddenly having to come to terms with the fact that God wanted me to calm the frick down and just take it one day at a time. He knew what i needed. He knows what i need. always has and always will. these things and concerns i have will fall into place, given that i don't stress and try to rush it.

   would i rather not have to be massively ill to have these epiphanies? yes, definitely.

   but i trust that God knows what He's doing. and apparently that was necessary.

   He has a funny way of bringing that about sometimes, but honestly i appreciate the random yet caring way He does it. i had a sickness where the only "cure" was rest. how about that. no other option, really.

   long story short, i am feeling well looooong before i should be. i know Who to give the credit to.

   the moral of the story: rest. without it, storms will far too easily take over your life and it's too easy to become disillusioned. be realistic in expectations. allow God to work things in the time that is best, no rushing.

   and to stuff yourself silly with beignets. always.

   i can't wait to go back to new orleans.