Cuatro Christian School

This is Cuatro Christian School- a school working and serving the beautiful students in the Cuatro community of Manila. The school is not made up of a group of buildings but of the students learning and growing, the teachers sharing their knowledge, and volunteers serving in any way that they can. Just as we are the Church, these people are CCS. I along with my Taylor team had the wonder filled opportunity to teach and learn from these students for three weeks. I worked with the 5th-8th grade that served students from the ages of eleven to seventeen. Each and every student that I met was excited to learn and hungry for knowledge of the Lord. I cannot begin to tell you about or show you the depth of their hearts.

Sweet Gigi and Desiree from the fifth grade. There were three classes of fifth grade and one class each of sixth, seventh, and eighth. My co-teacher Kelly and I loved being able to help these students better understand the English language.



Rextor- owner of the world's longest eyelashes and future heart breaker. 

The seventh and eighth graders were a hoot! We loved spending time teaching them English, Asian History, and Gym class. The seventh and eighth grades were just recently added to CCS and have allowed many students to continue their education beyond the fifth or sixth grades. 


              What do Filipino kids love the most? Taking selfies! 

Song of the post: Brave- Sara Bareilles


the small things (part 4)

Small things that I am thankful for this week.

-This week I'm thankful for God's people.

-I'm thankful for friends who understand that doughnuts may not be able to solve everything but they can make life a whole lot better.

-A roommate who is okay with living with someone who listens to the same three songs on repeat for daysss.

-Cheap leftover Valentines day candy.

-Women who call me to pursue bravery and who walk with me when I need some help.

-Cards that remind me that I am loved.

-The quietness of Saturday mornings.

-I'm thankful for friends who have Jesus shining out of their faces and present in every word that they speak.

-Yarn and flowers. Two things that embrace the winter and the coming spring.

-Worship and meaningful conversations about it.

-Small children who come up to me to tell me that we have the same hair.

-Chips and salsa.

-Writing classes that actually make me want to write. How neat is that?

Song of the post: Shake - Walk Off the Earth


Depth over Distance.

This my friends, it what I needed today.



So here we are again, friends. I'm back in good ol' Murica slowly adjusting to a different time schedule, different people, and a different daily life. Some days I think that I'm back to normal while others I ask myself why normal has to consist of class and work and a lack of Filipino smiles. Over the next few weeks, I'm going to try (try being a key word) to write a few posts about the trip.

 This semester, I'm taking a creative writing class- something that is far, far outside of my comfort zone. This last week, we had to write an autobiography that was exactly 500 words, no more, no less. Strugglebus. How do you fit ninteen years into less than two pages? So here it is.

I come from a father born the youngest of three boys. To this day, he still has to prove that his Bible college education was worth something by praying for Christmas dinner.
I come from a mother who walks quietly and speaks with her eyes rather than her mouth. She comes from strong German stock that used to dust the top of the refrigerator when she and my too tall father were dating. My father claims that she chased him. She says it’s the other way around.
I come from a younger brother with a mind that will someday move mountains. Until then, he is content to dream about a girl named Katie who bakes him peach pies. No, I am not kidding. His love for Jesus will blind you if you get too close.
I come from little Egypt- the fertile land captured between the Ohio and the Mississippi. It is a land of fields and accents that can only be described as hick. It is beautiful.
I come from a childhood spent with Laura Ingalls Wilder and a slew of imaginary friends. My parents once told me that if you sprinkle salt on a rabbit’s tail, it will slow down enough for you to catch it. My summers were spent building elaborate dirt piles in the outfield of the t-ball field and chasing rabbits with stolen saltshakers.
I come from a sudden move in the middle of my fifth grade year. It was an uprooting and transplant that produced bigger blooms than I ever could have asked for.
I come from an awkward stage that began too early and overstayed its welcome.
I come from a single summer relationship. It began with the thought of “We’re best friends… so we should probably date.” It ended quietly with the acknowledgement of the lessons learned. He is still my best friend.
I come from friends who watch too much British television. They are diamonds in the not-so-rough. When I come home from school, we drive down back roads for hours because they know that that’s what I need.
 I come from the “good batch” in school, somehow managing to escape a town that captures those who jinx themselves with the wish to leave.
I come from a last minute decision to attend a school five hours away. By the grace of God, I ended up where I needed to be.
I come from a time of growth, learning to live with and love others. I’m drinking too much coffee and staying up too late. I am building relationships.
I come from a sudden accident over the summer and a father who is a quadriplegic. He is learning to walk again, one day and one step at a time. My family is learning what it means to be whole again.
I come from a heavenly father that loves me more than I could ever deserve. He continues to give me grace upon grace upon grace.

I come from a story unfinished.

Song of the Post: Oblivion - Bastille