It's a List-making Kind of Day

Here's what I know:


Not much.


Here are a few facts.  A few mildly important things... just to set the pace:


I am 23 years old.


I have lots of sisters.


I have a disease, which at an early age required corrective orthopedic surgery.  I am a better person for it.  Stronger.


I got my first camera when I was fifteen.


That was the same year I decided I wanted to open a youth center for at-risk children (without ever having met such a child).


I have thought I was in love once or twice.


God's been speaking to me for a long, long time.


I have a lot of words.


I think way too much.


I want a family.  More than anything.  A husband and children.


It's a fairly short list.  There are a few things I could add.  Such as: I eat pancakes without syrup and cupcakes without icing.  But the jury is still out on almost everything else.


So here's a new list.  A compilation, if you will.  Of things I think about.  Of things I do know.  More so of things I don't know.  All subject to change, I suppose:


Because I do not know that much, I should assume less.  Which means I can speculate... but will do my best to be ready when things inevitably go differently than I imagined they would.  


I love Africa.  More than I think I even realize.  In some capacity, Africa will be a part of my story.  Whether my home, the birth country of my children (or my husband), or the home country of my clients.  African drums beat in my heart.


I love children.  I have asked God to give me my own.  My heart will only grow if one day you see me walking through the automatic double doors of Kroger with an army of children following me.  Of all different sizes, shapes, and colors.  Yes, please.


I am a social worker.  I think like a social worker.  I move like a social worker.  I talk like one.  


I could end up living in the inner city of Lexington.  Or in the mountains of Denver.  Or western Ethiopia.  


God speaks to me in the wind.  


Currently I work at one of the most popular frozen yogurt shops in Lexington.  I wear an orange apron.  Which brings about its own personal set of insecurities and humility.  Blog to come: The Girl in the Orange Apron.  Not quite the same as the girls Pat Monahan and Landon Pigg are falling in love with at the coffee shops.


I have no idea what's coming next.


But I'd like to think I have an idea.  I like to imagine.  I have a huge imagination.  I project far, far into the future.  I build things with my mind.  I have built my life there -- to a very, very old age.  I will tell you that I think I know what's coming.  I should rephrase our conversations.  I hope.  I hope, I hope, I hope.  


It's time to try something new.  To learn.  I should probably start with a zumba class.  


One of the greatest truths I've learned as an adult is the importance of eating breakfast.  


My favorite thing to do is connect the dots.  To make a connection between what is happening and what God is doing.  Behind the scenes work makes my heart swell.  I am really thankful for the times when God has given me a peek behind the curtain.  


Like doves in Africa.  And little boys racing down Maxwell Street at midnight.  And a child named Jacob eating frozen yogurt with his poppy.  


To tie it all together: I haven't had anything but coffee for breakfast this morning.  I am about to go to work for 6 hours and wear that orange apron.  Today was the day I was suppose to leave for the World Race Training Camp.  Instead, tonight, I'm going to meet some Ethiopian-American babies.  


Good morning, world.