Wherever is Your Heart I Call Home

"The Lord Your God will be with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9

 I wanted very much to have a place to share my thoughts on my travels and perhaps on the off chance encourage even one person to pack a bag one day and go somewhere they've never been, surrounded by food they've never tasted and a language they've never spoken.  However, that's not all I want out of my writing.  I don't want to just inspire adventure. I want to inspire opening our eyes at all times to the wild paths around us.  Driving home the other night, I felt like I wanted to write again, but I wanted to tell people why a wanderer does not have to be lost, as Tolkien said.  I want to explain why the particular tune this wanderer sings never tires.  I want to explain what keeps the melody flowing and what creates the songs in my heart.  I believe the answer is, that no matter where my feet take me, my soul has already found its home in Jesus.


In a new place, in a new scary situation, when everything around me feels foreign, my soul has still been anchored in the Lord. (Here's where I would cue a magnificent rendition of the setting of Moses Hogan's My Soul's Been Anchored in the Lord- see video here )  The truth is I can never be alone or lost again.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I can most assuredly get lost finding my way around this earth, but if I can continue to yearn to look for Jesus wherever I am, in every circumstance, then I can find a constant.  There is wisdom and comfort in knowing that Jesus is active in Oklahoma and active in Paris, Ethiopia, Sydney or Rome, and that He does not just reside inside a church building and He doesn't want your faith to either.  He calls us out to the farthest lands and to that scary place just on the outskirts of our comfort zones.  He may ask you to let your feet take you to a mud hut in a third world country, or even somewhere so terrifying as your co-worker's desk.  You may lay hands on the homeless and terminally sick, and you may lay hands on the friend with the crumbling marriage or son that has passed.  This is why we travel.  Why we get out of our homes.  Because we are called to go.

Also, on this drive home I had Hillsong's, "Oceans" playing on repeat.  I used to sing those lines with such courage and boldness.  Fear was far from my mind as I declared:


"Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders, let me walk upon the waters, wherever You would call me.  Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander, and my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior."   

I sang along in the car with one hand held up, and two eyes dripping tears.  (Sorry to any Tulsa people who saw the crazy lady pass by.)  All I could think was, this is so scary.  Asking this of You, Jesus, is so so scary to me.  To really be lead to a place where my trust no longer knows borders means that I have had to lean into God enough that I know He is faithful.  It means that if I were to find myself in a place where I look all around me and I don't see God's hand or I don't know the answer to the problems, than I still trust without wavering.  It means that I am saying to God, let me walk upon the waters, waters that could very well overtake me, if that is where You would have me walk.  Take me deeper be it through pain or joy. Finally that last line, if I am in a situation where I am in need of a savior, then I know it will be a circumstance where I myself cannot get out of it without Him.

I couldn't sing it with the same fervor.  That song was normally one I sang with as much power and certainty as Peter when he is telling Jesus, "Even if I have to die with You, I will never disown You." Who then just a few short verses down in Matthew 26 denies to have ever known Christ, not once, but three times.  Rather, it was with this voice of Peter that returned to God broken and ashamed after seeing how strong he was (or weak rather) on his own power that I sang that song on the drive home.     

I am scared to tell Jesus that I am okay with walking strictly by faith.  I would love to tell Him that with my mouth, but then secretly pray that in His goodness He will choose to give me a little glimpse of something down the road, some clue as to how He is working all things together for good.  Yet, I may not have a glimpse of it and that is where trust loses its borders.  That is where the waters that could drown me no longer bring fear to my heart, but they are diminished in the fear that would take over if I were to try to walk without my Jesus.  

So let's all decide to travel this week.  Please, let me know what "trips" you take!  Did you seek out the person at your kid's ballgame who looks like they needed a kind conversation?  Did you take 2 extra minutes at the end of class to make sure the kid who was extra quiet today didn't need to have someone ask if everything is okay? Did you travel to another state by way of phone call and find yourself speaking in your sibling or parents' ear that you were sorry, or that you missed them?  Maybe in the end this week you will travel so far as your living room to take a trip down into the hearts of your family and see if you can find what Jesus needs you to do in the depths of those places.

He is calling us out.  Go.  


- Court

P.S. Also, while you're out there "going" take a moment to go outside. Fall is upon us people, time for camping, campfires and porch sitting! 

*Link to: Ocean's (Where Feet May Fail) - Hillsong United

*Link to: Matthew 26 

*Note: All photos posted are my own.

It's not okay. But...it is.

Sleep.  It has always been rather elusive for me, and as of late it has become even more so.  That moment when you turn out the light and leave yourself to your thoughts has always caused me issues.  I analyze.  It's what my mind enjoys, literally receives pleasure doing.  I think it's what helps me balance so many plates and create logical sound plans of action for the many different areas of my life.  However, it's also a downfall.  As many of you who also love analyzing know, it is a problem that keeps you up at night.  It makes me second guess good decisions, makes me constantly ask what if, and makes me want to flood my mind with distractions (phones, books, netflix) so that I don't have time to be left with my thoughts.  It's not like my mind is always full of dark, depressing or anxiety ridden thoughts, but it's just normally full.


Travel.  The reason I started this blog was to document my travels for myself in a virtual way that I could come back to in the future.  (One time I went to Europe for 5 weeks, kept the most detailed handwritten journal - still the best type of journaling - and then left it in the seatback on my final flight of the trip from Houston to Tulsa.)  I also wanted to help and encourage others to see the world, or at least challenge themselves to take on new perspectives.  Ask yourself, do I believe this because it is true, or do I believe this because it is what I have always thought to be true?


The dilemma.  Travel is what I want to write about, but the past month and a half has been spent regretting all the time I was gone – the time I could have spent at home more.  I have felt incredibly frustrated by my selfish desire to see everything and overlook what was on my doorstep. It's irrational, but with the passing of my brother on August 4^th, the only thing I wish now is that I had not gone on a month-long National Parks trip where I arrived back to Tulsa on the night of August 4^th, making that hurried lunch and quick stop by my classroom on July 9th our last moments together. I know I could have never known this would happen. I know that it wasn't selfish to explore and travel, but I also know that I desperately long for that one more cup of coffee with my brother.  I would trade swimming in the pure blue waters of Crater Lake for a car ride eating a QuikTrip taquito with Cody. 

The trip.  National Parks are amazing. Rangers are phenomenal speakers and educators. My fear of bears has both decreased and increased. I can't wait to visit a park again, nor to write a blog post on them and actually give a few of my thoughts on the parks and the process of visiting one.  However, this post is not on travel, and it is not about the 10 magnificent National Parks that I visited and camped in this summer.

Josephine Lake, Glacier Nat'l Park

Cody.  My brother was 3 and a half years older than me.  During the beginning stages of our relationship, we were the closest of close.  In pictures of us when I was 2 or 3 and he was 5 or 6 years old, you can see the love he has for me, and I him.  When we grew up a little the dynamic shifted, as most siblings do. My brother became even cooler to me, but I became a little more annoying to him.  It is a gift many of us younger siblings possess.  Oh, how I would beg to hangout with him and his friends. "I can play basketball too!" "Can I just sit in your room and not say anything?" (Sad, I know, but I was certain he was the coolest, and when he could let down the "Yeah, I am the coolest" guard a little bit, it was evident he loved me too.) As we grew up into my middle school to high school years, things became stormier. My brother's anxiety and addictions escalated, and I learned many many things by watching him live.  I became a godly golden girl, while he struggled to find good friends and make good decisions.  When we fought, it was not a pretty sight.  My brother used words that we classify as "offensive language" while my biting remarks and cruel comments were clean, yet probably more painful to a human soul.  It's funny how we as Christians sometimes think that if we keep our tongues clean of "choice words" then we have learned to tame the tongue.  I can't help but think that when scripture says "Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear." (Ephesians 4:29) that it is not talking so much about four letter words as it is those deep wounding remarks that leave scars on the soul.  My brother called me out on it once. We were having some yelling match when I was probably a freshmen or sophomore in high school, and I'm pretty sure I said something about being annoyed by the words he was using and names he was calling me, and he came back with, "your words aren't "bad words" but they are way more hurtful."  That was a moment for me where I had to step back and say, "You're right, and I'm sorry." (both of those phrases feel terrible rolling off the tongue, but they do wonders for the condition of our hearts)


In the storms and the dark times, it was then that my love for my brother and his love for me was made even more evident.  This was not a hold a grudge, silent treatment, rid you from my life kind of relationship.  This was a show one another the ugliest sides of ourselves, forgive one another, and choose to walk on together in life as siblings who love unconditionally though we sin often to be fully known and fully loved. That's the gift God gives us, and the thing He lets us practice with those closest to us.


The past 5 or 6 years have been a constant rebuilding of a wounded relationship.  We still had our moments, but we were much quicker to laugh, talk, confide and forgive than in the past.  We became encouragers to one another.  I would say we worked our way back into a best friends status.  We both led our own lives, but a quick dialing of a phone (if he would ever have his phone charged) could yield a good long conversation about life, politics (this was more one-sided, that boy was a genius), dogs, sports, music (of course) and God. 

I want another phone call.  I want another coffee.  I want another awkward hug.  I won't have one in this world.  It's not okay.  But....it is.  I can't explain that, but I mean it.  What I can attempt to explain are these last things that have brought me peace with the loss of my brother:

1. Isaiah 43:1 "But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine." 

Jesus knew my brother, and I believe He called him from a young age.  He has struggled with darkness, but he never lost the light.  I am comforted deeply by this.  God said to Cody, "you are mine."


2. Psalm 139 "O Lord, you have searched me and known me!  You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways.  Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.  You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me...." 

The Lord also knows me.  He has not taken His eye from me or my family.  He is "acquainted with all my ways" and is keeping His presence near me and holding me in my most trying moments and cheering with me in victories.  He guides and protects and comfortsme.  He loves me.


3. Psalm 51:12 "Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me."

Good news – if it was okay for David to ask God to restore the joy of salvation to him, then it is also okay for me to ask the same.  This scripture has been swimming around in my head during this season.  I have been walking in a mellow state the past month.  My emotions feel flatlined, and even in moments of greatest joy, the tears feel like they are just bubbling at the surface ready to spillover at the first opportunity.  I am glad for the tears.  I am glad for the broken heartedness.  I am grateful God lets us feel things so deeply.  But I also ask for restoration.  I want to feel the giddiness I did when I first came to meet Jesus.  Not the jaded lackluster moments I experience too often now.  My faith has never been based on my circumstance, and I declare that this will be no different.


Speaking of joy, I love my job.  Can I just add that on here? Because I want to look back at this 5 years from now (or maybe 2 months from now) and remember..... so.....Future Courtney, you seriously LOVE being a middle and high school vocal music teacher.  Seriously.

Also, I do love travel.  I will not give up on my "quest", if you will, to see the world through as many perspectives and cultures as I can. Whether that means leaving the country or knocking on a neighbor's door.  And I can't wait to write about the National Parks and that time I tried to sleep in a movie theater in Fresno. 

-Court

The Flight: "Oh please, not the cat!!"

"Oh please, not the cat!!" The thought screamed through my head as I politely smiled at the lady who sat by me at the gate for our flight from Detroit to D.C. For those of you who aren't aware, I am super allergic to cats, like, I sneezed just typing that word. All I could think was, "Dear Jesus, I know you are good, and I want to believe that right now, but you can't let the cat lady sit by me."   They called sky priority boarding, which was me because I paid the $25 for the Delta Comfort+ upgrade which I will talk more about later, but I rose from my seat next to the small carrier of cat dandruff and made my way on the plane. I sat there planning how I would nicely ask to move, and then giving myself a pep talk about getting a little more firm in my stance if they said no. Then, I waited. Here, kitty kitty kitty. 

She turned the corner with fluffy in hand and I tensed but tried to keep my face calm. She drew close, I watched her eyes as they looked at the number above my seat and then..... released my breath I didn't know I was holding as I saw them skim past as she walked farther and farther back. My small passover moment. Praise Him!

Essentials: caffeine, hat to cover the crazy travel hair & a
large enough purse to get a few more things on as "carry-on times"
 but not so large that the whole plane rolls their
eyes at you (just a few minimalist flyers).

So let me back up a little. The first leg of the trip began in the Tulsa airport. I had checked in online and only had carry-ons but still felt the need to go to the Delta check-in desk just so I could have someone tell me I'm good to go. I'm a big fan of affirmation. 

I wheeled on over to security and made it through to my gate in 6 minutes. I do love Tulsa. When I fly out of TUL I get a moment to be like, "oh yeah this is how flying works." 

We boarded the plane, or should I say clown car, on time and began our two hour trip to Detroit. This 

was the type of plane that if cat lady was on board I would have just asked to sit shotgun up front with the pilot,because I could have poked all 50 passengers from my seat (if such a thing was not weird and totally unacceptable). (Also probably unacceptable is yelling, "shotgun" on an airplane.) 

Anyway, I did have a great conversation with a man named Tom. We talked about his wife and four children, my family and trips, our cities (Detroit and Tulsa) and Jesus. When on the topic of learning patience, Tom grew rather serious and said to me, "You know, life just gets harder as you get older. It's a fact. There's a culmination of so many past experiences that it just happens, but what gets easier is learning to handle it." I can't help but think he's right. Faith and trust, our greatest tools in dealing with life, are sharpened through the practice of them, and a lot of time those moments of practice come through the aches and pains of life. Thanks, Tom.

Check out the extra leg room.

Now back on the subject of the Delta Comfort upgrade. If you have 25 extra bucks laying around, do it. Don't think just upgrade. 4" more leg room, your own overhead bin space (great when your carry-on is pressing the limits), priority boarding and a few other perks. I fully felt like it was money well spent. 

Now I am exploring this marvelous district, and looking to get some more shots of these epic monuments that are taking my breath away.  However, I better stop writing because I just missed my stop to Arlington. Time for the #googlemaps.....

Happy Birthday, America!

The Introduction

It's sort of an inside joke.  Not one of those inside jokes that you know is coming and you all wish it could just be put to rest, but rather one of those jokes that you absolutely know is coming and you still can't help but smirk even before someone says it.

"But what if...?"  That's it.  Okay, it's not very funny.  This tiny three word phrase has lead me into more poor decisions than I would care to admit.  "But WHAT IF we put the m&ms inside the chocolate cake and THEN cover it in peanut butter?"  "But, hear me out, what if we just hike the 10 miles on the second day to get it out of the way and only have three left on the last day?" "But WHAT IF we just go get coffee and talk about class rather than actually going today?"

 Yet, those same three words have also lead me on my life's most grand adventures.   "But WHAT IF we also saw Switzerland and Italy and not just Paris & London?"  "But what if I don't do medicine and become a music teacher instead?" "But what if we find a way to drive through the night and then summited Mt. Leconte in the morning? "  "But what if I did the WHOLE marathon and not the half?" "But what if I actually surrendered all of my heart to the one who created me and just walk blindly in step with Him?"  

These questions have made me, for better or worse, the mid-twenties adventure seeking, Jesus loving, musician that I am today.


At the age of 16 my parents supported me to be able to take a trip to the Aussieland.  I left American soil for the first time.  Though I am a fairly extroverted individual I had butterflies galore when the plane left the Tulsa airport.  I had no idea how changed I would be when my feet returned to the American earth.  What my teenage eyes would see could not be unseen.  I saw a land, a way of life, an accent that were all foreign to me, yet...they were all home to someone else.  I saw that my Jesus was still Jesus here, but that I needed to ask myself what was truth and what was my culture that I had projected on Him.  This perspective shift flipped some switch inside that sprung up with curiosity.  I knew I needed to see this world through the eyes of others.  I needed to be the foreigner more often, so that I could evaluate what was true.  

Coming home rather than feeling more cultured, I felt like my personal world was so small.  I needed to know more, to understand more, to see more.  It took 7 years for me to leave American soil again, but that next time was once again life-altering.  My friend, Jennie, and I loaded up our packs (with waaay too much stuff...like WAYYY too much stuff) and flew over to Europe to visit that land for 5 weeks.  Once again I felt my tunnel vision of the world slowly being widened.  I could begin to look at things from others perspectives and my heart was faced with new ideas and challenges to wrestle with inside.  I loved it.  The need for traveling has never stopped.  

The past couple of years I have been working more on seeing America.  I mean, it still is in my heart the "land of the free and the home of the brave."  #murica   I can't think of a better time for me to start a blog about my upcoming American adventures than 3 days before my nation's birthday, and I also cannot think of a better location to start than my nation's capital.  So, get ready Underwoods (oops! I mean Obamas) tomorrow at 5:35pm the adventure continues! 

A few notes to readers:  

1. You do not have to travel to gain perspective; people, books, art, victories and hardships do all that just as well.  
2. This is not a soul that has searched the world and become a universalist, it's still Jesus. Always will be Jesus.  
3. I will give advice in future posts, not that you will always want to take it. 


Carry on!  








Thanks to https://www.peopletopeople.com for providing me with the opportunity to uncover a passion of travel and understanding culture as a high school student.