2019

A year in review:
January: 
I escaped the cold weather of Chicago and started the year on a missions trip with a team from Village Creek Bible Camp and Resourcing Now to serve in Belize. While in Belize we sorted a shipping containers worth of Christian Literature to pass out and distribute to people all over the country. We also visited many jungle villages where we held kids clubs and shared the gospel. 

February:
After a night of excruciating pain and a long morning in the ER I found out my gall bladder was inflamed and filled with stones. I now live with minus one organ and can no longer say that I've never had surgery before.

March:
I'm sure there were other things that happened in March but the most news worthy was a trip down to Kentucky to visit my family and play outside at their country home. We always enjoy stomping through the creek, hiking up to the cave, and driving around in the "Kat". 





April: This month I attended my first ever Women's Ministry Retreat with Glen Ellyn Bible Church. I got to room and spend time with some pretty great friends while enjoying an afternoon along Lake Geneva. 

May: 
I ran in a 6K with other Glen Ellyn Bible Church members to support World Vision to help make water more accessible to those who have to walk approximately 6K a day for water. This was a really great race to be a part of as not only did it challenge me physically but I got a good visual of what it would be like to have to walk 6K with a jerrycan. 

June:  Our family went on a reunion to the family farm in Edmonton, Alberta to celebrate the life on my grandmother. We buried her ashes in the small country church cemetery where she attended church as a child. After that we headed to Jasper and Banff National Park for some sightseeing and hiking through the beautiful Canadian Rockies. After parting ways with the Harsch family we met up with my cousin and her family in Kalispell, MT for a trip to Glacier National Park. 

Mom and her brothers at Nanny and Poppop's resting place. 

Wiesenthal Cemetery

Nanny and Poppop's burial site. 

One big happy family!

Hiking along Beauty Creek! 

Spirit Island on Lake Maligne

Glacier National Park with my cousin and her daughters. 

July: Apparently, nothing happened in the July. I was in the depth of grad school classes and do not have any pictures saved in my phone from this month.

August:
I went to visit my good friends Lindsay in Souix Falls, SD with my other good friend Katie and her two sons. We had a blast laughing, goofing off, and being silly. Because that's what we do best. I also got to spend a week working at Village Creek Bible Camp.

 September:
I started September with a road trip to Colorado to visit many of my friends and family from the year that I lived there. I also hiked my first 14er. It was pretty awful. Gonna be honest. But the view was spectacular. I also visited my brothers family in Kentucky to celebrate his birthday and my nephews birthday. It was hot but we still made the best of it. At the end of September I got to spend a weekend at Village Creek Bible Camp and speak during one of the chapels about including non-believers in our struggles to help us meet our need. Lastly, I started my job at Jubilee Kids as an Infant Teacher. It was a busy month.


October:
I celebrated my birthday and ran my first ever 10K. I also dressed up as the rainbow fish for halloween.

November:
I got to visit my college roommate while she and her family are home from Vanuatu. I also got to run the Brookfield Zoo Reindeer Run and see all the Christmas lights with my cousins.

December:
Had a great time celebrating Christmas with family and ended the year at my home away from home at Village Creek Bible Camp. What a year it has been. A constant theme I've seen throughout this year has been running. I've found a new joy in running and I can't wait to see where the new hobby takes me in the 2020.

Progress

Over the past couple years I've grown an enjoyment of running. I don't love it. At least not yet. But I do enjoy it. This mornings run was no exception. I left the house and started down Hawthorne towards Lake Ellyn. The route is a straight shot with essentially one long hill down and one long hill up. This makes the journey home much more difficult than the run out. Today while headed back towards home after doing a lap around the lake I started thinking back to the first time I ran, or attempted to run, around Lake Ellyn. It wasn't pretty. I could barely make it 60 feet before having to stop to walk.  I also recall rolling my ankle on the then unpaved path around the side closest to the high school. I realize now, that back then, I was trying to run because I needed to exercise. As a broke college student it was the best option that my camp salary could afford. Today I started thinking about progress. I thought about that first attempt around Lake Ellyn where I drove to the lake to start my run, in comparison to today, where I start the run at my front door and end at my front door. I thought about how my view on progress has changed since then. As a college student my view of progress was measured by the scale and by how fast I could run. Both are terrible things to measure progress on. 1. Often times when you're getting stronger the scale doesn't move. 2. Sometimes you can run at a the pace of a snail and that doesn't measure the endurance you've built up to go farther. Also, like any college I had zero inclination or knowledge of what nutrition actually was. So running although for good intentions was being wasted on my college diet of Goldfish, Dr. Pepper, and venti mochas from Starbucks. 

I remember in elementary and middle school receiving progress reports. They would come around midterm to show where my progress was and if there were any areas of challenge, I could take the proper steps to boost my progress before the report cards came out at the end of the semester. When report cards came out not only did they come with a grade for school subjects but many times came with a number that corresponded with a character trait. For example, a teacher might give the number 15, you look at the key and find that 15 stands for hardworking. Or the number 72, trustworthy. These are the things that my parents enjoyed most. Yes, they liked seeing good grades and progress. But they also enjoyed seeing character development. When I think about these progress reports in comparison to my running progress I think about how my character has been built. Since I started running I use to give up and quit after a quarter mile of struggle. I'd say it's too hard and throw in the towel. Essentially most days I'd give up before I even started. If only I had someone giving me a character progress number in those first days of running. It may have been a wake up call that I had my mind in the wrong place. It's not about how fast I run, what the number on the scale is. It's not about what others think of me as I gasp for breathe as I run past them or as they run past me. It's not what others think I look like while I run. It's about me. It's about the progress I've made from not being able to run for 30 seconds before stopping to running 45 minutes without stopping. It's about honoring the one body that I have been given and using it to the best of my ability. It's about how I feel. It's about taking care of me. It's about going at the pace that will stretch me and challenge me. It's not about going faster than others, unless a bear is chasing me, in which case maybe I do want to be faster than the slowest person. ;) 

This coming October, a week before my 28th birthday, I'll be running another 5k. (The Morton Arboretum 5k for anyone who wants to join. I'll also be celebrating one year since I began my fitness journey with Beachbody.) I want to end my 27th year as the healthiest and strongest year yet and I want to start my 28th year in preparation to become my healthiest and strongest year yet. I'm learning to measure progress through non-scale victories. It's not always easy but running has been one of the best ways for me to see how far I've come. I'm not running faster. But I'm running stronger. 

Learning Self-Care in a Season of Waiting and Lament

Back in September I had the opportunity to speak at a crafting retreat at Village Creek Bible Camp, AKA the best place on the planet. If you’ve never been there I even remotely like to craft, even just coloring, talk to me. There is a retreat in the Spring that I’d be happy to introduce you to my favorite place. Many of you know that I returned home from the Peru almost a year and a half ago. The last year and a half has been filled with ups and downs. When I had returned home from Peru and spent several months getting my life “put together” again. About this time last year, I thought I was finally at this place where I could start to do real life adult things like find a full time children’s ministry job. Move out of my parents’ house and take on the many responsibilities that come with adulthood.

Shortly after leaving the crafting retreat in September of last year I begin the process of applications and resumes. I had found a position that looked really promising. In fact, I had gone through a 5-month long interview process before receiving the no at the end. Right before this news came I was having a great time in Belize with some wonderful camp friends. In fact, one of the best most influential missions trips I’ve ever been on. More on this in a second. After returning home I got the news that I didn’t get this job that I had started to dream and picture. I was bummed, to say the least. The next day I was visiting my grandma, affectionately called, Nanny. I was telling her all about Belize. Specifically, a moment when the Holy Spirit overwhelmed me as I prayed for a man who was almost completely blind because of cataracts. I prayed like I had never prayed before. Then that’s when the call came. You see, while in Belize Nanny had gone in for a routine colonoscopy. But the doctor was unable to complete it because they found a tumor blocking their path. Instead they performed a biopsy. The call came. Stage 4 recurrent ovarian cancer. After 16 years of remission this ugly disease was rearing its ugly head in Nanny’s body again. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. But Nanny, being Nanny. Said, “pray for me the way you did that man in Belize.” When Nanny tells you to do something you do it. So I prayed. Well really I cried. Tried to pray and then cried some more.

Fast forward a month when Nanny did her first round of chemo. We almost lost her to the stupid chemo. We see now that God had his hand in things. Because of this whole ordeal Nanny was able to make a smooth transition from the hospital to skilled nursing. Nanny decided to do no more chemo. Doctors said 1 maybe 2 months to live. Family from all over including China came to say their “last” goodbyes.

In the next few months my search for work came to a halt. I visited Nanny 3-4 times a week. Bringing her favorite black Dunkin Donuts coffee. Also, during this time my former high school softball coach contacted me. He offered me a job to be his assistant coach in the spring for WA’s varsity team. This was one week before the season started. I said yes. I needed something to fill my time besides Nanny. During the softball season Nanny’s health slowly improved. She moved from being wheelchair bound to shuffling in her walker, to speeding past everyone in their wheelchairs as if she were in the Indy 500. The hospice doctor called and told us she didn’t need hospice and she didn’t need skilled nursing. So we took her off hospice and she was placed on a wait list for assisted living. When this happened I realized that I needed to make a plan for my life again. I needed to move forward. Find a job. So early May I got back on the job hunt. I applied for 20 some jobs in the span of a week. Within the month I received 20 “no’s”. I was feeling defeated. Warn out. Frustrated. One weekend in early June my cousin and I were going camping I started telling her about what I thought God had been trying to get through my thick skull and I wanted a second opinion. Yes. I wanted a second opinion to God’s. I thought that God was telling me no to ministry. In the early days of June I read a book called “No More Faking Fine” by Esther Fleece. The premise of this book is around the idea of lament. A new topic for me. I mean I knew about lament from Lamentations and David in the Psalms but that was about it. I didn’t really know what lamenting looked like. But I learned during this season of uncertainty that lament was a fluent language to me. Many times in frustration I would ask God, why. Why no ministry? I’ve been working towards working in children’s ministry since I was in 6^th grade. Why no ministry? It was during this camping trip with my cousin when it wasn’t a flat out no. But rather a not right now. So I said ok God. If it’s not right now then what is? That is when the Lord through rejected resumes and interviews revealed to me a new calling. Early Childhood Education. Fast forward to now and I’ve completed my first two classes of grad school and began my third.

There are a few things that I would like to point out during this season. The first was prayer. The second obedience, the third waiting. Finally, self-care.

First prayer. Prayer is how we communicate with God. When we choose not to pray we choose to cut off our communication with God. He will still love us. And I believe that God will still try to communicate with us. But God wants to hear from us. He wants to hear the voice of his children. However, I noticed during this season that my prayers were not what my prayers had typically looked like. My prayers took on the form of lament. With Nanny being sick, with not knowing what job to pursue, my prayers turned into lament. Esther Fleece says in her book No More Faking Fine that, “A lament is a passionate expression of our pain that God meets us in.” God was meeting me in my pain. The thing is needed to lament. I needed to make my frustration and hurt known. I know God already knows but I needed to tell him.

The next three things all go hand in hand. Obedience, waiting, and self-care. Waiting. While I was waiting for answers to my lament I needed to keep moving forward. I continued in my walk with Jesus. I continued to apply to jobs even though they lead to more defeat. In my waiting I needed to be obedient. I needed to continue to wait obediently. If you will. In the waiting and obedience, I learned about self-care. I learned about things I need to make a priority in my life if I’m going to feel and be the best version of myself possible. This past summer I was at the heaviest I had ever been. I didn’t truly realize it but I was miserable. I didn’t know I was miserable until I started to take care of myself. I’ve never been great at self-care. Again, in Esther Fleece’s book she says, “Sometimes we hear so many others-focused sermons in church that we lose the ability to know how to biblically care for ourselves.” How true? I learned that I need to lament. I need to let my frustrations out. I also have and am currently battling taking care of my body. I’m learning how to change my mindset of how I view food and how it makes me feel. I’m learning how to get exercise in a way that is healthy for my body right now. I’m also learning about the amount of sleep I need to function. But through all this I’ve seen God work through me and in me.

One last quote from Esther Fleece, “Suffering makes us feel like we’ve lost all control in our lives, so finding a scapegoat is appealing because it feels like we’re taking back at least some control.” For me this was food. This was the thing I could control but for whatever reason I wasn’t doing a good job at it. What I thought I was in control of was actually controlling me. Over the past 4 months I’ve been on a mindset shift. To take care of the body God has given me so that I can work and serve him in the best way possible.

Through this season of uncertainty there is one scripture that I’ve clung to that has spoken to me that I’d like to share.

Lamentations 3:22-26

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
    his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
    “therefore I will hope in him.”

The Lord is good to those who wait for him,
    to the soul who seeks him.
It is good that one should wait quietly
    for the salvation of the Lord.

The Power of Prayer

I've been learning and experiencing a lot lately. About a month ago after a conversation with my grandma several of the things I've been learning and experiencing were pieced together with a word: prayer.

Earlier this year I had the opportunity to go on a short term missions trip to Belize with a team from Village Creek Bible Camp. We joined TJ Hanken and his ministry Resourcing Now to distribute Christian literature throughout the country. During two of the days of this trip our team went into some remote villages that are often avoided simply because the road to the villages is in such poor condition. (Picture the game of popcorn. You know, the one where some sits rolled up like a ball on a trampoline while their friends jump around them trying to get the rolled up friend to sprawl out. The road felt like the one being jostled around.) As we went through these 5 villages we would load up our backpacks with Bibles, devotionals, kids literature, and so forth. With each house we would offer a Bible and devotionals and then conclude by praying for the family. The first village we visited was just awkward and uncomfortable. Neither my partner or I had ever done door to door ministry before and quite simply had no idea what to do or say once the family invited us in. By the second day I felt like I finally had a grip on what we were doing and was no longer uncomfortable. Each house I offered the opportunity to pray for them and no one turned me down. After this day we continued to visit more and more people in hospitals, homes for those with special needs, and a prison. However, at one particular home we were told to bring some rice and beans, a couple pairs of reading glasses, and literature with us as the elderly man in the home could not make it to our bus to get his rice and beans himself. I walked into the home and told the man that we had reading glasses for him to try on. I put the weaker pair on his face first. Held up a Bible for him to tell me if they helped. They didn't. I went to get the stronger pair and before I even put them on his face he revealed to us that he could not even make out the features our faces. All he could see was a blob of a being in front of him. It was then that we felt rather helpless. With him not able to see leaving a Bible didn't make any sense. We did leave rice and beans. But it was still a hard pill to swallow that up until now every home we went into was able to graciously accept a Bible and reading glasses. In the moment the Holy Spirit prompted me to ask if I could pray for him. He simply wanted his sight restored. So I prayed for his vision and that the Lord would restore his vision.

The reason all these moments to pray for people stands out to me is because I don't normally enjoy praying out loud. In fact, I've been notorious to just say I'll pray for people later and usually never do.

When I returned home from Belize I felt more confident in my ability to pray. Specifically out loud and as the Holy Spirit leads.  I learned shortly after getting home that my grandma, Nanny, as we affectionately call her, had gone in for a colonoscopy. The doctor was unable to complete it because he had hit a mass. They did a biopsy and the results came back cancerous. Specifically ovarian cancer on the colon. Nanny has been in remission from ovarian cancer for 16 years. I was with her when she was told she had cancer. Expecting to see Nanny in tears I saw her confident and strong. She told me she felt really good and she prayed that the Lord would be her great physician. A week later she had a scan to see how big the mass was and how far spread the cancer is. The scan will help us figure out what the next best steps for Nanny are.

Last night I went to visit Nanny. The Vesper service at Windsor had just finished when I walked in. She turned the TV off and we talked about my church service that morning. We read her devotional for the day from Our Daily Bread together. We talked about the power of the Holy Spirit and the power of prayer. I mentioned the new Bible study I started about the Armor of God and how this week we heard about how prayer is the weapon that activates the rest of our armor. We talked about how when we have nothing else to offer we can offer prayer. (At this moment I was reminded of the older man in Belize who couldn't see.)

Then we talked about Philippians 4: 4-7, "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

We talked about how Nanny feels at peace right now. I noted a sermon from church not to long ago where I heard that we can't have the peace of God until we have peace with God. Nanny has peace with God. She then asked me to pray for her.

I wrote the above back in the end of January. A lot has happened since then. Nanny has received her first round of chemo and after a difficult week of side effects she has decided that she will no longer receive chemo and does not want to do any surgery. Over the month of February and start of March all of Nanny's kids, grandkids, and great grandkids have had to opportunity to make some lasting memories and many have had to say their earthly goodbye. None of us know how many days we have on this earth. Nanny is one woman who I admire and look up to. She has been a constant source of love and kindness. She is always pointing me towards Jesus and teaching me to walk in His ways.

Last week a few nurses were in her room trying to flush out her port. They were having some trouble flushing it out and she could tell the nurses were getting frustrated. She thought to herself, "Why am I not praying that this would work for them?" So she prayed and in the next few minutes the nurses were able to successfully flush out her port. Later that day a janitor came to clean her room. Being Nanny she struck up friendly conversation with him. She told him about the situation with her port and praying for the nurses to be able to flush it out. He proceeds to explain how he's not sure what he thinks about this whole Jesus thing. Nanny says, "Well you should give Jesus a try. He answered my prayer today for the nurses." As he was finishing up in the room he says, "Miss. Harsch I think I will give that Jesus thing another try."

Nanny has proved to me that our days should not be wasted. We never know when our last breath will be and we don't want to waste a moment to share the love of Jesus with those we are around. I'm so thankful that I have not only Jesus but I have Nanny who has been and still is an amazing example of loving others without question. Nanny has fought the good fight and I believe that Jesus will say, "well done good and faithful servant" when she enters into the gates of heaven. Until that moment I will continue to learn and glean from Nanny all that I can. The power of prayer is amazing. Nanny has made that clear to me with both the simple and the complex.

Too Comfortable and "Even When it Hurts"

An in advance warning. This blog post was initially written in April a week after returning to the States after Peru. Then it was revisited in late August and again the beginning of September (today, 9/5/17, I am hoping to finally finish it).

This morning I woke up with the thought. "I haven't blogged in a while. I need to write again." Well it's 1:30pm on Tuesday the 29th of August. I'm sitting in my parents office while the repair man fixes the ice machine and I found a post that I wrote and never published back in April shortly after I returned from Peru. I reread it and was instantly struck by my own words and how encouraging they are for me right now (See below to read that post). A lot has happened since I returned home from the field five months ago. I've been in a wedding, been a guest at a wedding, had a cousins trip to Door County, a trip to Florida, a missions trip to the Dominican Republic, family visiting from Pennsylvania and North Carolina, two weeks working at Village Creek Bible Camp and looking forward to the weeks ahead visiting family and friends in Colorado, Kentucky, and Iowa. Needless to say its been busy. 

During this busy season I've also had time to reflect and think about my time in Peru. I'm happy to say that I have hit the point where I look back on Peru and I smile and laugh. That wasn't the case three months ago. I remember funny moments of butchering the language both in class and out and about with my host family. I think of moments like walking from my host home to what seemed like the clear opposite side of the city in the pouring rain with Angela just to get in a taxi and drive two blocks. I think of going to see La Bella y La Bestia (Beauty and the Beast) with several of the young adults from church. There are things that I am beginning to miss; like the view of the Misti volcano from my bedroom window, walking everywhere, learning public transportation, queso helado, and being called the gringa by some of the kids at Ciudad de Dios. Remembering the good and funny things isn't all I've thought about. 

I've also had some tough stuff to wrestle through. This next story is a bit long but please hang in there. A couple weeks ago while working at camp I was asked to host breakfast. Now, hosting breakfast is different than other meals because instead of serving dessert you prepare and serve juice. It's also different because during a junior camp instead of setting out large drink dispensers for self serve juice you go around with a cart and small juice cups and serve each camper and staff member yourself. Some how in my time of working at camp from 2011 until that point I had never been a breakfast host. I knew everything about getting the dining room ready, set up the cereal station, toaster stations, make sure the coffee station is stocked. But I had never done juice during a junior camp before. Let me set the scene. I'm told to arrive 45 minutes before the 8:00am meal. I ended up arriving 10 minutes early. I couldn't sleep because I was anxious to host the meal. And not anxious excited. I arrive and see that there are still chairs stacked on the tables from the previous night so I begin to take them down. However, one person taking down about 175 chairs by themselves takes time. A few others who strolled in to grab early morning coffees ended up helping take chairs down. (THANK YOU!) About 10 minutes after the original start time I realize that the main host who knows what he's doing isn't there yet. Ensue a little panic. He finally shows up another 5 minutes later. Chairs are finally down and I start wiping down tables. He puts out toast stations, cereal station, and stocks up the coffee station. I put a new thing of milk out. I find him making juice. I ask how I can help. He says find pitchers, find small juice cups, find a second cart. Then proceeds to complain how behind the schedule we are. (In my head I think. Well you did arrive 15 minutes late.) Then after making the juice he heads out with one of the carts to start serving. Over his head on the way out he says, get the second and start serving from the opposite end of the dining hall. Looking at my cart, I see zero cups, half a pitcher of apple juice, a quarter pitcher of orange, and no grape juice. He had left with each jars of juice. I see on the counter extra juice concentrate. So I assume, that he wants me to make more juice and then serve from the opposite end. Well, I took too long. I came out with my cart as he is preparing to come back in and says, "You're late. I just finished. Give me your empty cups. (with a look of frustration) Why don't you just go serve people?" Now, I'm even more flustered than before. I'm thinking to myself at this point if you had given me more instruction we could both have been out there serving instead of just you. He tells me that we can go eat. Before heading for food I head to the bathroom. I head to a stall and begin to weep. At first I wasn't sure where the tears were coming from. I prayed a prayer then went for some pancakes and bacon. As the day proceeds breakfast hosting weighed heavy on my thoughts. I was trying to figure out where the tears had come from when I make a connection. I had felt powerless and out of control. I felt like I was stuck. Like there was nothing I could have done to make the situation better. I was stressed and anxious. The last time I felt this way was while I was in Peru. Now, knowing what I know I began to think of how I could have made it so I wasn't as stressed or anxious. I should have asked him to give me clearer instructions of what to do with my cart that was lacking supplies. I saw the other host later that day and apologized for my clueless behavior. He then proceeded to say that he acted like a jerk and needed to remind himself how he felt the first time he hosted a meal. 

For the first time I was able to articulate my feelings of anxiety and stress. After returning home from camp I had applied for a job at my home church. I didn't get the job but for reasons that are more than understanding if not helpful for bettering my future work potential. After hearing the at the time disappointing news of not getting the job I made a rather rash decision to make a trip out to Colorado. I arrived and immediately saw my Flatirons family. I was caught up on all the church happenings and was able to tell about my own story of the past year since my last visit. Although this trip doesn't show any promise of a job immediately I am encouraged. I am affirmed. In a way, getting turned down the job at home and being affirmed in my children's ministry gifts by my Flatirons friends was the boost I needed to step forward. To move on and take the risk of looking for work at a new church. 

I head back to Wheaton today with a new found hope. With courage to step out and take a risk. Because I'm not called to be comfortable and God promises that it will be good. It may not be easy. But it will be good. In a sermon on Sunday morning, Scott talked about how good things are good. But when a good thing becomes and ultimate thing in return that once good thing becomes a bad thing. I'm learning that I've been clinging to comfort. Comfort is a good thing but I've been making it an ultimate thing in my life. Because of my love of comfortable and my dislike for being hurt I've stayed where I am. But I can't just stand here anymore. I've been waiting for clarity but I"m not going to get anywhere if I keep waiting because we don't always get clarity until we take steps. So, when I go home I'm going to take some steps. I'm going to take some risks. 

This is the "unpublished" post I referenced earlier.
I recently heard a song by Hillsong called Even When It Hurts. I first heard this song on one of my last days in Peru when I was facing some of the deepest pain I have ever experienced. When I prayed to God I felt my words were empty. I was desperate for an answer. For relief. For anything but the pain I was feeling. Then I heard this song and I thought this is my song. This is the song for my season. Each verse spoke volumes to how was and still am feeling. Especially the verse that goes, "Even when the fight seems lost I'll praise you Even when it hurts like hell I'll praise you Even when it makes no sense to sing Louder then I'll sing Your praise." 

There were many moments in the past month where I thought I was living my worst nightmare. I thought I was going through hell. I didn't see purpose. I didn't see hope. All I saw was the pain I was in and that I was ready to be done. I needed to get help and fast. I had a few meetings with a counselor and through prayer and guidance I chose to leave the field. 

I don't know what is in store for me in this next season. I know God knows. My prayer comes from another verse of this song, "Take this mountain weight Take these ocean tears Hold me through the trial Come like hope again." I know that this next season will not be easy as I wrestle with where the symptoms of depression came from and rediscover a burning passion for God and his calling in my life. 

Another reason that I love this song is that it emphasizes praising God in the good and the bad. With where I am right now I am struggling to praise the Lord. Each day I have to make a conscience decision to look for one thing in my day to praise God for and thank him for it. 


"Even When It Hurts (Praise Song)"
Take this fainted heart
Take these tainted hands
Wash me in Your love
Come like grace again

Even when my strength is lost
I'll praise You
Even when I have no song
I'll praise You
Even when it's hard to find the words
Louder then I'll sing Your praise

I will only sing Your praise
I will only sing Your praise
I will only sing Your praise

Take this mountain weight
Take these ocean tears
Hold me through the trial
Come like hope again

Even when the fight seems lost
I'll praise You
Even when it hurts like hell
I'll praise You
Even when it makes no sense to sing
Louder then I'll sing Your praise

I will only sing Your praise
I will only sing Your praise
I will only sing Your praise

And my heart burns only for You
You are all You are all I want
And my soul waits only for You
And I will sing till the morning has come

Lord my heart burns only for You
You are all You are all I want
And my soul waits only for You
And I will sing till the miracle comes

I will only sing Your praise
I will only sing Your praise
I will only sing Your praise

Even when the morning comes
I'll praise You
Even when the fight is won
I'll praise You
Even when my time on earth is done
Louder then I'll sing your praise

I will only sing Your praise