So we made the above video to show in Missions chapel today (if you can't see it, click here). It wasn't my idea (since I wasn't deep in the Amazon jungle and to my knowledge, I didn't eat any bugs while I was an SM), but I do what my boss tells me to.

This morning I decided to cook some rice to take with my lentils for lunch. I was in a hurry, so I just poured the rice and water into the rice cooker without washing it first. As I was about to put the lid on, I noticed quite a few brown flecks floating in the water. Hm, I guess there's a good reason for washing rice after all, I thought.

But upon closer inspection, I noticed the brown flecks were moving. On their own volition. My rice was riddled with bugs, and this was no dream.

The bugs had gotten into the entire bag of rice, so I dumped it in the trash, likely canceling out all the rice I've ever donated to starving children through freerice.com. Luckily the bugs had not discovered my bag of brown rice, so I didn't starve for lunch.

Funny story, right? So supper rolls around, and I eat some random leftovers. I decided to finish my meal with cinnamon graham crackers and homemade applesauce. Yummy...

Yucky! There were bugs crawling all over my crackers!

Unfortunately, I didn't even notice until I'd already eaten several crackers. Apparently I can't be a hypocrite even if I want to.

I had never been a bridesmaid before, so when Natalie called and asked me to be in her wedding, I was super excited. I wanted to do a really good job, so I made sure to get my dress and matching shoes months in advance and I bought my plane ticket to be there a few days early so I could help with all the wedding preparation.

They say home is where the heart is. If that’s true, it’s no wonder I feel like I have homes all over the place. There’s my parents’ home in California. I’ve never actually lived there, but your family’s house is always home. Then there’s Tennessee, of course. Elisa’s house is like my vacation home. And camp is kind of my summer home.

But when people ask where I’m from, I’m starting to say Michigan. I’m driving to this home today. My organized inner self is itching to unpack. Oh to have a closet and dresser drawers! I’ve only been living out of a suitcase for 3 ½ months.

I think back to when I first made this drive, 355 days ago exactly. I stayed as long as I possibly could in Collegedale, and by the time I tore myself away, I was a wreck. I think I cried all the way to Nashville and tried to drown my sorrows in the bitter taste of CRUNK!!! I called as many friends as I could, just to make sure they still loved me. I listened to “The Wheel has Turned” by Aaron Roche on repeat at least 15 times, trying to accept that I would be okay going my own way.

Today is different. I leave as early as I can in the day so I can have time to catch up with Jamie when I get to Michigan. I listen to Switchfoot and N*SYNC and Mika, lots of happy sing-along music. I’m looking for my favorite landmarks along the way – the store that sells hundreds of lampposts and the giant yellow rocking chair big enough for Goliath's grandma. I think I’ll go to the beach tomorrow after I hear Dwight bring the word. Maybe I can pick some fruit on Sunday…I wonder if the blueberries are still in season. And peaches I bet!

As I cross the border into Michigan and start counting down the miles to Exit 15A, I am surprised to feel the same burst of excitement and anticipation that I get when I round the bend on 24 and see Chattanooga spread before me.

Why is this trip so different than it was a year ago? The friends I’ve left behind are only dearer to me now. There are still lots of unknowns up here, except now I know what it’s like to get frozen inside your own car.

I guess what’s different is that now I am coming to the place where I belong. In all my other homes, I will always be a visiting member of the family, but this is my spot. Not just because I pay rent and utilities here, but because this is where I have a purpose outside of my selfish need to love and be loved. This is where I chase my dream via a master’s. This is where I help students go do mission work. This is where I get paid to teach people how to talk and write.

I think I’ve been fighting belonging here. It hurts a little to have your heart in so many different places, and I didn’t want to invest in another. It seemed like to much work, too much risk.

But maybe a little heart stretching is good now and then.

Today Ben Schnell and I are leaving on a road trip around America.

Yesterday we were driving to the VM to get some lunch. For those of you who have been gone from Southern for a while, University Drive is blocked off because they're putting in a roundabout. So traffic is detoured behind the school on Industrial Drive. I was on the phone with Andrea, so I was a little distracted, and I started turning left onto Apison.

He started pointing to the right. I didn't know why.

"We're going to the VM," he said.

"I know," I said, turning on my left blinker.

"The VM is to the right," he said.

"No, it's not!" I insisted.

Oh dear. I think Ben will be directing this trip.


Look at all the people I get to visit!

July 28 - St. Louis, MO

I haven't seen my grandparents and cousins for years. And Natalie is driving the other way across the country and we're meeting in the middle!

July 29 - Lincoln, NE

That's my cousin, Jeanette. Family resemblance, eh? And I couldn't find a picture of Dylan Wren, but I did once ask a tag question about him on my leg.

July 30 - Camp Ida-haven?

Not sure if we'll make it to this stop or not, since it's 19 hours away from Lincoln. But we figure it'd be fun to hit up as many camps as we can. Friend here include Phillip Sherwood, Carl Canwell, and Kevin Ekvall!

July 31-August 1 - Hayden Lake, ID

I can't wait to see all these people that I love! And Camp MiVoden! Oh man..I'll also be seeing Ben Foote and Nick Livanos here too, but since they might be joining us for the rest of their trip, I'm not posting their pictures. I'm also running out of time and would like to start this journey.

August 2 - Spokane, WA

I love Emily Wilkens so so so much! It's been far too long since we've connected.

August 3 - Sisters, OR
I worked with Keith Bowman in Campus Ministries for a year, but apparently this was never documented in photographs. Nevertheless, I'm excited to see him at Big Lake - one of the top ten camps in the country!

August 4 - Wawona, CA

Andrea will be out visiting Donnie and Rachel. We're both super excited to check out Yosemite - and our vacations perfectly collide. Couldn't have planned it better! Hope some other Wawona friends are still around as well.

August 5-7 - Loma Linda, CA

Yeah! Mom & Dad! And Sarah in her brand new home!

August 8 - Grand Canyon, AZ
I'm so excited to see this place!

August 9 - Albuquerque, NM
More camping. Or maybe driving through the night.

August 10 - Bristow, OK

I'm looking forward to my second visit to Fisher Family Farms. This time, we're going to see a live production of the musical Oklahoma! complete with real horses and guns. Oh boy!

August 11 - Collegedale, TN
Ah...back to my temporary home for a few days until I head back up to Michigan.

Read More 8 comments | Posted by Miss Jehle

"You're too skinny to be eating all that cake and chips."

I turned around and smiled hesitantly at the man behind me in Bi-Lo's only open checkout line. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt and looked like he was in his late 30s. Maybe the type who watches ESPN all the time. He was buying some painkiller and an ace bandage. I explained that my cart full of food was for a party, not just for me.

"Looks like there will be some underage kids at that party," he said. Before I even understood what his point, he started talking about how much you can tell about a person by what they have in their grocery carts. I guess I agree. I don't serve alcohol at the parties I throw. Maybe that should tell you something about who I am.

Then he started making jokes about his age, and I didn't really understand why. "I'm so old I sat behind Jesus in 3rd grade!" he said, laughing loudly. I gave him a less enthusiastic smile and started to turn back around, hoping he would get the hint that I didn't like his joke.

But apparently he thought he was quite funny. "Why are you wearing a whistle? Either you coach some children or you use it on all the guys who are stalking you."

I thought the words "Cohutta Springs Youth Camp" on my lanyard could have given Mr. Observant a clue as to which of those options was true, but I patiently and positively explained that I worked at a summer camp just down the road.

"I haven't heard of it. I just came to the area to start a business with one of my buddies. You'd think I'm a bad person if I told you what kind of business it is though."

I wasn't sure if that was an invitation to ask, so I didn't, and tried to turn away again. He moved closer.

"What are you doing when you're not working at summer camp?"

I considered using my whistle on him. Instead, I told him I go to school in Michigan.

"What part of Michigan? I was born in Michigan!"

Could the cashier be any slower? I like people, and I usually don't mind chatting it up with strangers, but something about this guy just made me uncomfortable.

Finally, after a few more cheesy joke attempts, it was my turn and I moved up to the checkout, thinking we were done.

"Don't mess up her change - she'll blow that whistle on you!" he said to the cashier. I smiled weakly.

After I paid, I grabbed the groceries from the bagger and made a beeline for my car. I noticed my bright blue Michigan license plate. What was I thinking, telling this weirdo where I live?

As I was unloading the bags into the back of my station wagon, I saw him heading across the parking lot toward me. I started searching for my keys so I could put them between my fingers and punch him in the face if he tried anything. Yeah, I've read those email forwards about creepy guys in parking lots.

"Hey Tiffany, Samantha, Allison.....?"

I assumed he was talking to me and reluctantly turned around. He was holding a postcard sized piece of paper and handed it to me.

"Come get a free drink at the coffee shop I'm opening. It's just down the road in Chatsworth - the Bikini Beani. Unfortunately for you, it's Hooters' style, you know, all the waitresses are Beani Babes and wear bikinis and stuff... But there's a drive through!"

Oh good. If I don't see it, I won't have to be offended and demeaned by it. In fact, maybe I'll even continue to support such an establishment after the drinks are no longer free.

Thanks...but no, thanks.

About a week ago, Lemmy found 5 baby birds by the water slide. They were on the ground with no nest in sight, and one of the birds was already dead. So Lemmy put them in a box and took them to the office to try to save them.

I was pretty sure they wouldn't survive, so I decided not to get attached. That hasn't been very hard, because these birds are ugly as can be. But some of the staff apparently have more heart than I, and they have been attempting to care for the babies. Bird accessories have started to clutter the counter - bits of boiled egg yolk, eye droppers, raisins soaking in water, canned liver. (The internet says this is good food for them. I think they would eat anything you stick close to their squawking little mouths.)

As I predicted, they've slowly been dying off, and now there's only one left alive. It's a pictoral definition of the word pitiful, and I've been trying to avoid the office because I don't want to be around when it dies. Unfortunately, I've had to go there frequently this week because there have been lots of challenges with campers.

One of those challenges is named Ashley (not really, but for this story, she is). I remember Ashley from last year as a cute, clingy camper whose life is a sad story of abuse and dysfunctional foster care. I put her in one of my best counselor's cabins and hoped for the best.

We were in the middle of supper line call yesterday when Pastor Rob's son rode up to me on a bike and told me a counselor needed me right away. I ran up to the cabin and was greeted by 11 very concerned adventure campers. "Ashley won't come out! She hit our teacher! Look, our teacher's crying! We're hungry! Can we still get honor cabin?"

I went inside the cabin and found Ashley hiding in her sleeping bag in the corner bunk. The words that began coming out of her mouth were some of the saddest I've ever heard.

"I'm a bad girl. I don't deserve a real family. My case worker is mistaken about me. I don't deserve anything good. People who say I'm not a bad girl don't know the truth."

I talked with her about the difference between bad choices and bad people. That God will forgive anyone. That we can always have a new start. That everyone deserves a family.

A few times her eyes would peak out of her cocoon, but whenever I tried to scratch her back or stroke her hair, she would recoil instantly.

"Don't call me sweetheart!" she screamed. "I'm not good! You don't even know!"

Eventually, she sat up and started shrieking and banging her camera against her hand. "I don't want these pictures. I don't want memories anymore." Then she started biting her Disney Princess sleeping bag, trying to rip the fabric. She ended this tantrum by curling back up into a ball and crying for her mommy. As she wore out, she finally let me hold her and comfort her.

She spent the majority of the next 24 hours with me - sometimes sweet as can be, holding my hand and begging for piggyback rides, other times throwing more tantrums and crying for her mom. She literally ran away from me once...that's the second camper who has tried this week.

Camp is not staffed to provide one-on-one care, which is what she seems to need, so we sadly concluded that Ashley should go home. So I took her down to the office to call her foster family. As I was looking up the phone number, Ashley discovered the box with the one remaining bird. By now, the bird stinks and it looks absolutely disgusting. If the bird flu is still around, I'm pretty sure this guy has it. But Ashley picked up his gross little body and started stroking his head.

"Does he have a family?" she asked me.

"No, they all died," I said, as the phone began to ring. "You should put him back in the box. He's sick."

"No! He is lonely! He needs a family! He needs someone to love him!" She carefully cupped the bird in her hands as she crooned little girl songs to him.

The phone call was a wreck. As I was talking to the foster mom, Ashley started screaming in the background that she didn't want to go there, she hated them, she wanted to go to her real home with her real family.

We finally worked out the details and after another emotional breakdown, Ashley was back to clinging on to me. As we left the office, she asked me if we could come see the bird tomorrow. "He's just like me...he needs a family."

Oh how my heart hurts. The world is just so broken, and little kids are paying the price. Ashley is only one of the sad stories I've met this week. And that's just one week, at one camp, during one summer.

I wholeheartedly believe in the ministry of camp, but sometimes I feel like we can barely do as much good as egg yolks and eye droppers...camp is no substitute for real parents. I poured as much love as I possibly could into Ashley, but I only spent a day with her. One day to counteract years of dysfunction and pain.

As I watched Ashley crawl into the back seat and ride away to a place where she clearly isn't loved, I felt so helpless and inadequate. I wish there was something else I could do to help, but I guess I can only trust that God cares about her more than I do.

Thank goodness He's not helpless.

Last weekend I got flipped off by a two-year-old child.

Elisa and I were picking up Latoya* to go to a Bible study, and I saw the cutest little boy wandering around the yard. His little onesie was unbuttoned and his diapers were peaking out. As we got in the van and drove away, he stuck his tongue out at me and raised his middle finger.

I'm not sure what I did to prompt this gesture of hatred.

In the van, Latoya asked me for some advice. "There's this girl at school who wants to fight me. Should I fight her?"

I remember when I was a kid, my dad had to read lots of books on personality as part of his doctoral work. He gave me a bunch of personality tests, and I would always come out as "The Peacemaker" or whatever funny title someone thought of to describe a person who just wants everyone to get along. This is no surprise; I've always hated conflict. If I were ever presented with the question of to fight or not to fight, the answer would seem obvious to me.

"What do you think you should do, Latoya?"

"I think I should fight her."

Apparently the answer is not so obvious to someone who lives in a neighborhood where you learn to flip someone off before you learn to use the toilet.

This weekend I was playing with some of the same kids on the playground. They were swinging on the monkey bars when Derik hit Jamar. (This isn't an uncommon occurrence with plenty of kids, I suppose...but it happens pretty regularly with this bunch.) Thankfully, I was close enough to make peace before things got out of control. I asked the assailant why he hit his friend.

"Jamar cries all the time, like a baby! I'm just trying to make him stronger. He'll never learn otherwise."

More logic that is foreign to me. I've experienced little violence or aggression in my life, and sometimes I am overwhelmed by its presence in the real world. I wanted these kids to understand that violence is a cycle. The more you hate and hit, the more you get hated and hit. The only way to escape the cycle is to love.

This is a hard thing to tell kids though. I can't promise Latoya that if she is nice to the girl who wants to fight her everything will be okay. Maybe it will. Or maybe the girl will still beat her up. Turning the other cheek doesn't come with a guarantee that that cheek won't get hit too.

Perhaps what makes it hard to explain is that turning the other cheek isn't about self-protection, which I think is (understandably) a primary concern for kids growing up in this environment. And to a degree, it's a natural human instinct to look out for your own interests.

But thankfully, God wasn't too concerned with self-protection when He thought up salvation. And while His call to follow His example may seem harsh and difficult and contrary to the logic of the world, He asks anyway. Maybe because He can see the end from the beginning. And maybe He knows that even when we are the ones bruised and humbled at the end of the day, ultimately love wins.


"You're familiar with the old written law, 'Love your friend,' and its unwritten companion, 'Hate your enemy.' I'm challenging that. I'm telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer, for then you are working out of your true selves, your God-created selves. This is what God does. He gives his best—the sun to warm and the rain to nourish—to everyone, regardless: the good and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that. If you simply say hello to those who greet you, do you expect a medal? Any run-of-the-mill sinner does that.

In a word, what I'm saying is, Grow up. You're kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you."

-Matthew 5:43-48 the message

*All names have been changed. Except for Elisa's.