transitions.

so here i am. looking out from the balcony of my flat into the abyss that is prague, listening to robbie seay, bethany dillon, desperation band, and hillsong. mmm good stuff. today i had what i consider to be one of the only decent meals i've had since i arrived. granted, it would have been absolutely incredible had the restaurant had ketchup. seriously - - WHO DOESN'T HAVE KETCHUP??!?! c'mon people!! 

last night was the most beautiful and brilliant storm i think i've ever been of witness to. flashes of purple, green, and orange lit the sky and the ground shook as the thunder roared. i don't know what was better, the storm or watching the local praguers (my new name for local civilians) sprinting for cover from the downpour of rain  - Jesus was all over it. what a refreshment it was. and let me say, the smell of rain in amarillo is almost as incredible as it is in prague. almost. 

anyhow. as i was sitting on the metro on the way home from class today, i got to thinking about transitioning; how i up and left the only home i have ever really known in to flee to makeshift homes to suffice until i find another real one again. and it is strange - the feelings and emotions that this brings. i had imagined that i'd get terribly homesick, but i am not at all. i feel as though the people i have met, and my real world prague flat mates, have soaked up any previous notions of what it would be like if i were at home at this very moment; and all of a sudden none of it really matters anymore. i am here. living in prague, czech republic. sharing air with the praguers and tourists. i think i'd be awfully miserable anywhere but where i'm supposed to be. now, i am not certain whatsoever on where i'm headed after this month, but i do know that this is where i am being molded and shaped by the Lord; and the idea that the future is unknown isn't overwhelming the idea that i will go where i am intended to go. hallelujah for that! 

on another note, as i was listening to my ipod, you have stirred my soul by robbie seay came on. and it got me thinking about all the surrounding people. and how, if the facts are right, that of the few hundred on the metro, less than three knew and believed in Jesus. that about killed me. i wanted to scream and shout that Jesus loved them and that he is the healer of the healed, the curer to the sick, the father to the orphans. but i couldn't mumble a sound. i just started sobbing. i ached for them; for them to understand that there is a being who waits in eager anticipation for their recognition of his free grace and adoration to just love his children. that his love is so tangible if they just grab for it - that he'll answer - that he grabs right back. i mean, there are days where Jesus' love just takes my breath away; days where it is abundantly clear that his love is sometimes just too much for me. and i wanted to shake all the faces i saw today and tell them that, but i couldn't say a word. i just cried for them. just thinking about it now makes me sick to my stomach. i cannot being to imagine how Jesus feels when he continually receives this rejection, but i tasted it today and i hated it. and i don't ever want to feel that way again. 

so i'm on a mission. i want to represent. the reflection of Christ i've previously been is shameful, but the one i desire to be is something i think that could possibly shake things up. and i'm fully aware i won't start a velvet revolution again in the streets of prague...but if i can love even a smidge of the way Jesus did, and expand the kingdom with even one soul - then it'll all be worth it. nothing will be lacking. 

goodnight friends,

kami.