Musings.

"The best equipping is living

in My presence,

My hand that never lets go of yours. 

Discuss everything with Me... Remember that 

I am on your side, and that I have overcome the world."

Often I live as if I'm on the losing side of the battle. I find myself focusing on my insecurities and I allow the little nagging thoughts of doubt take root and idly observe as they begin to bloom. 

I've been reading through John; a chronicled account of Jesus' coming and going, of His passionate and radical and beautifully messy lifestyle. I find hope in that, because I can identify with the messy. I identify with the characters that encounter Him; with the woman at the well in chapter 4 who is caught up in something that she tries to hide and He calls her out in love, drawing her in to drink of His wellspring, calling her into true life. 

I identify with the blind man in chapter 9 who, without question, did exactly as Jesus instructed and was able to see for the first time, tasting the freedom of His gift fully.

And while I find a common ground with many of these ancient characters, I take heart in the fact that my God is indeed the Father of all, that He is Mighty, Strong, a Wonderful Counselor and a God of unabashed Love. And I find that, rather than taking up the mindset of the defeated, He has given me the Spirit, and  "He who believes in Me [Jesus], as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water". (John 7:38) 

We constantly live in a place of war within ourselves; trying to decide whether to follow our hearts or follow that which we know to be true. We borrow advice from the deep places in our hearts and believe them to be absolute truth without testing them first, however, Jeremiah 17:9 challenges that very concept;

The heart is deceitful above all things,

and desperately sick,

who can understand it?

You know what strikes me? Not even the fact that my heart is deceitful above ALL things, but that it is desperately sick. My heart. My heart, which has been seeking and craving and running after God for years. My heart, which I want with every part of me to believe is good and whole and pure. But even in saying that, I know that my assumptions are incorrect. 

I am flawed; I am desperately sick; and I am grateful for this.

Because that gives me a chance to be like the blind man; to be in a place of humility and raw desperation where my Jesus can place His hands over me and instruct me towards healing. Because He promises that in my belief of Him, He will equip me with the Holy Spirit, which will flow from me like a river of water, quenching the dark and spreading light within. Because my flaws are the very things He is going to heal when I enter into His kingdom for the rest of eternity. Because when I am passing through His gates into His glorious, unleashed presence, I will experience Him like never before.

I know that in Him I am on the winning side. That I don't have to strive to fight the battle in my own strength, but that He is next to me grinning, effortlessly holding up His defense against the enemy and urging me to do the same, drawing from His unending strength. 

He is my Champion. He has overcome.

Eruption.

I forget that this life is temporary. I settle into patterns and thought-processes and embed in myself a desire and a drive that line up with the idea that this moment in time is all that there is...that my actions and thoughts and words won't affect people. That I can do or say or think anything I want and it won't go further than me and my mind and my immediate surroundings.

How wrong I am to assume. I've been living out this pattern of supposition for the past six months, and am barely on the brink of realizing what it means to push outside of myself in certain areas. This month has been wild. It's been full of frustration, of confusion, of freedoms and of revelations. One of the joys (and curses) of living in community is that most of your life is on display for all to see. And when you mess up--when you make a wrong decision or aren't careful about guarding your heart and mind--everyone knows. It's equivalent to standing center-stage at a concert and knowing that every eye is on you, knowing that if you miss a single note while singing or hit the wrong chord, someone will always know. There are no secrets when you're standing center stage.

I recently made some poor decisions within the relationships that I've built, and I haven't realized until this past week just how badly those decisions affected the entire community. My actions and decisions hurt those around me, especially the girls within my small group and the women within the staff. I broke the trust that had been built between us and I refused to acknowledge it. I lied to myself, convinced myself that I wasn't hurting anyone, justified my actions by telling myself that I was following my heart. None of those lies held, however. The mitigation of my actions within my own mind deteriorated as I looked into the eyes of those that I've hurt, heard their words as they expressed their frustration and anger, felt their pain radiating from them as they asked the tortured questions; "Why was I not good enough for you?" 

I can't undo what's happened. I can't take back the ache that I've caused in the lives of those around me. I can't take away from the fact that I did mess up. I won't minimize the pain of the circumstances; my own heart has been broken throughout this process. We had a meeting involving the entire staff and student body last week, and I had the opportunity to own my shit in front of everyone. I splayed myself out and took the fall that I knew had been coming, and as I looked around the room, I felt a shattering inside of me. Out of 30+ people, I could count on one hand those who would look me in the eye. I felt the anger and betrayal emanating within the room and the walls within my own heart crumbled. I will not deny my actions, but I can and will be proactive with where I presently am. I will walk forward and continue to move, continue to be open and vulnerable, making a conscious effort every day to be one hundred percent authentic in my words and actions as I converse with others. I will choose to walk in light when I've been walking in darkness. I will choose to be filled with integrity and an honesty that transcends that which I have been walking in.

Relationships are building again, trust is being reconstructed, and I find myself being able to truly smile within the past few days. Joy is something that I have to embrace daily, but the beauty of this entire situation is that it's a story of redemption. It's a story of the fascinating and wonderful and breathtakingly passionate love that my Father has for me and for those wrapped up in this.

I'm still processing and will continue to process and write, because this is just the beginning of the journey, and He is just furthering His work to perfect me. I will take heart in the fact that He has overcome the world (John 16:33) and that He will continue to refine me in the process. In everything, I will not forget that He has been broken so that I may be shaped into some creature of beauty and wholeness. I choose to embrace Him and to walk forward in the freedom that He continues to so gracefully provide; head held high and proceeding humbly before Him.

Not Just Another Journey

"You don't become a new person by changing your behavior. You discover the person that you already are in Christ and you start to behave accordingly because the Holy Spirit is with you. He makes moves on you. Uncommon love is present and active for your good." -Graham Cooke

I've been listening to a lot of Graham Cooke recently, diving into his 'Uncommon Love' series. A part of his message is about baggage, about the things that we've carried into our present-future from our past. 

We're four days into this January 2013 DTS here at DP, and it's going wonderfully. Right now the students are taking advantage of their first free day so far by heading into town, snorkeling, kayaking and playing volleyball. It's fantastic to have so many people around again. 

There's already been some insane freedom happening here; the students shared their testimonies last night and some of them bared their hearts like they've never bared them before. It's beautiful to see so many young people laying their hearts out and trusting that they will be safe; sharing their lives and letting their walls come down, their vulnerable sides be visible for a split second. 

My heart is already wrenching for them; some have come from some incredibly hard situations and I feel so privileged to have heard their stories and have them give permission for me to speak into their lives. Connections are being made between us as staff and them as students, and I feel more and more the need to be 100% real with them in everything I say and do. This isn't a group to trifle with. None of them ever are, but I already feel the strong pull of leadership in their lives and I feel like I've been given an ability to tap into their hearts and see what God wants to say specifically to each one of them.

His faithfulness has already been showing up to these 25 amazing college-aged men and women, and I am so excited to see how they respond and grow as He continues to break down the walls they've built up inside and pour into them until they have that moment where they get it. That moment where they absolutely get His love and get His touch and feel what He has for them. I can't wait for the dawn to break in their lives. So many of them have been found wanting, have been lacking something and have been searching for it for such a long time. My heart is pulled towards them with a love that can only come from the Father; a love and a passion to see them succeed, and to see them explode into a passionate, worshipful, strong and healthy school. 

These students have it. They have so much potential that it blows me away to even think about it. Their strong character and the depth of their hearts and personalities is breath-taking. I'm already so proud of them all, and we've just barely wrapped up orientation week! They have a hunger and a heartbeat and thirst for God that I haven't seen before; an almost dire desperation to find Him, to be close to Him, to find that purpose and that strength and that security and that love that only He can provide. 

This is always a journey, and I am so thankful for that. The ability to build and work and live together in relationship and community with one another is always an adventure. Having 25 more people move into our home here is wonderful, and I can't even begin to describe the excitement I feel when I think about how far these students will have come at the end of the school. I feel such fierce loyalty to fight for them, to urge them every step of the way towards Jesus, to love them with everything He gives me. They are so worth this. 

The baggage is about to be non-existent. Freedom is coming so swiftly that I can't even begin to follow it. Like I said; it's a process, but it's about to get real, and intense, and wonderful. God is so good!

Climb.

I admit, I've been procrastinating. I've been locking myself away and reading, and watching movies, and not writing. I've been preoccupied with moving through the days until the next school starts, rationalizing that once those days hit, I'll be doing something worthwhile. Guess what?

Today is worthwhile.

Today is worth living.

And I forgot that.

I forgot that I am here for a purpose; and every single day that I don't chase after that purpose, I'm wasting time. My purpose here is to know Jesus and to proclaim Him and His love and His majesty and wonder over everything I come in contact with. So, today I decided to do things differently. I spent the entire morning with Jesus. Not making up for lost time, because I can't get that time back, but making a conscious effort to restore my relationship with Him. I've been on a bit of a roller coaster since being in Belize; during the last school I was actively pursuing God, wandering in His wake. It was amazing, until I let my guard down. And then I started to become apathetic about it, and I didn't wake up for Him in the morning. I woke up for me...I woke up so I could walk through another day. I let things like homesickness and doubt distract me from His ever-waving arms. I let Him become something that was comfortable and worn, something that I put on when I want to feel warm and cozy, much like my old sweatpants.

I was reading this morning, and the book I was reading was talking about the God of Ezekiel. Have you ever read the book of Ezekiel? It's all about a jealous God. A God who doesn't stand up and let people get away with wickedness. It is about a fierce, warrior God who loves His people so much, He won't watch them go to ruin. He will let them take the consequences for their actions, though.

Want to know what crossed my mind this morning? God's not a pair of old, worn out sweatpants. God is a God of love, terrible and passionate love that will stop at no bounds. He is a God of fire and water, a God of justice and of mercy. A gentle God. An intense God. A lover God. A wild, and powerful, and relentless God. A holy God.

And I completely lost sight of that. Needless to say, I was humbled by this revelation, and I sat with Him talking and reading more about His incredible nature, listening to Him as He poured His devotion over me.

It's been hard for me recently. I'm a part of a school that disciples young people to go into life and become leaders in faith, leaders in ministry, leaders in integrity. We are now moving into a time where we will have 4 schools per year, and I have the wonderful privilege of staffing here. That means that I am a girls small group leader--I mentor and counsel and pray over and live for my girls as they are here. Last school, there were 9 girls in my group, and I was absolutely in rapture with the love that God gave me for them. I got to sit with them and hear their stories; stories of pain, of humiliation, of self-hurt and of abuse. I got to counsel them, to walk with them through memories and feelings and their own tortured thoughts, speaking God's light and life into them as we went.

I had the chance to chase after them as they bolted to the end of the dock and fell onto their knees, sobbing in the sheer pain of their circumstances. I had the freedom to pull them into my arms and hold them, tears slipping down my own face as I prayed for words, and if none came, I sat with them in silence, letting them cry it out as I held them, as Jesus held both of us in His presence.

And when those young women sat before me at the end of the school and I spoke to them about how they had impacted me, about how I had seen the change in them as they grew closer to God, I was so proud, so privileged to see them grin, their eyes glowing as they walked away with their heads held high in trust of the Father, in trust of His plan for them, in a new mindset of self-esteem and love.

I played a piece in a wild, incredible transformation. My girls left this space with a new breath in their lungs. They are changed for the better, and not by my doing. I was just a tool in this, and it's not over. They will continue to grow and flourish as they go on in life. 

This is what I do here, this is why I am here. To serve this awe-inspiring, trustworthy, fierce, loyal, loving, passionate, wonderful, crazy God. And He is constantly calling out His plea for us to join Him... today, I will.  And tomorrow, I will. And the next day, I will choose this.

Because He is worthy of this.

Take Flight. Breathe In. Crush Fear.

I'm really good at running.

I'm exceptional at sprinting, actually. Away from hurt. Away from potential heartache. Away from frustration and away from misfortune. I flee from pain and I search for bliss. Not joy, mind you, but bliss; the encasing, short-lived, euphoric state of mind where no hurt can find you... and generally, I'm apt to find an avenue into that place of rapture. But then that feeling of ecstasy evaporates, and I'm left to abscond again, growing farther and farther away from myself as I try to escape the bitter reality that life sometimes is.

This week, I wanted to run. At some points, everything inside of me was screaming at me to take flight--to turn to the beach, to let my legs pump and my breath flow and the adrenaline carry me to a place of bliss. My mind wanted to shut down, to stop caring about what was happening around me, to enter that place inside of me that is pure imagination, where I can construct and breathe life into something around me that seems safe. But in all reality, I can't do that. I can't leave.

That's something I've learned working here; I can't run. I can't just pick up and check out of what's happening at the moment. For one, what is happening here--however intense, however chaotic--it's happening under Jesus' name. He encompasses every move here, whether it brings glory to Him or not. He can't help it, His presence just automatically permeates everything. All that is going on isn't necessarily from Him, but He is always encasing every situation, and that which is evil and disgusting is shown for what it really is in a heartbeat. The deception game doesn't work too well here. But then, I'm getting ahead of myself.

This week has been draining. Every day has been a constant battle for truth and healing. It's been amazingly breathtaking. He has been amazingly breathtaking. He has propelled us as staff members forward through a web of deceit and hurt and given us ears and eyes to hear and see the truth as lies unfold before us. He has given us strength to wake up every morning, ready for a new day. And He has taught me that it's okay to face pain head-on. Granted, it's not my pain that I'm facing, but He has still given me a will to fight for His children, a passion to see freedom break through the hurt and the confusion that so easily entangles. This past week has been full of a pain and a confusion that I've never had to face before. I've never dealt with the circumstances that we're in at the moment. I've never walked through some of these things with people. In essence--I have no idea what I'm doing, or how I'm going to do this.

But then...that's the beauty of it, isn't it? Because when I end...that's where Jesus really begins to work. Where the Father floods His grace on me and those around. When the Spirit is allowed to completely flow through me and wreck my heart for Him, and make me thirst for more of Him in my depravity. And so I stop running. I slow down... I take a deep breath. The adrenaline drains and I begin to feel the exhaustion steal in. My heart rate slows and my eyes grow heavy, my limbs almost too weary to propel myself along...and suddenly, the hair on my arms stands up. 

I feel a burst of energy come from thin air, crashing into me and taking my breath away, even as it gives me the strength to keep gasping for the oxygen my body so eagerly craves. My muscles start to strengthen, seemingly of their own accord. I suddenly have the will to fight, the will to keep walking in the direction I was headed in the first place--away from bliss, into this messy, painful, hard, beautiful, crushing lifestyle called missions, where some days you don't get to rest, some nights you're pulled from your sleep and you can feel the enemy crushing down on you, you can see dark shadows in the room trying to oppress you, and all you can do is pray and pray in earnest faith, knowing that these dark beings have no power over you if you can just open your mouth to speak His name... where sometimes you're jerked from your dreams by a knock on the door, and suddenly you're throwing on clothing to rush into some unknown emotional or mental territory with one of the students.

But in those moments I realize that this is really what I love. I wouldn't change this. Even when I'm waking up to a knock on my door at 1am. Even when I'm sitting on the end of the dock crying in anguish for the hurting souls gathered on this base. I wouldn't change any of the pain, or the hurt, because along with it comes great growth, and great joy, and an even greater sense of His presence and Spirit. Because even though, yes, this is hard...I know that it is fully worth it. Every second of it. All the tears, all the laughter, all the silly moments I have with those around, all the sad hugs shared, all the smiles and wry looks given and sarcasm and dancing and singing and twirling together.

I suppose the appropriate thing to say is that I have previously been fantastic at running away. But Jesus is teaching me to saunter, to savor the moment--whether filled with sorrow or joy--and to take it one step at a time, letting all the hard moments be erased with every laugh, with every smile that shows itself.

And so I stop sprinting. I slow down...I take a deep breath. And I let His touch sear like a million wildfires inside of my soul.

Abandon Me

Dear Father,

Worship. Pure, unadulterated, passion-filled worship.

Jesus, I desire You. This weekend I was able to worship You in a way I rarely am able to worship. You gave me the privilege of coming together with three other talented musicians, under YOUR name, in YOUR presence. Father, thank You. Both Friday and Saturday nights we were able to worship You in song, in prayer. Jesus... I have no words. I can't describe my heart for You right now, because this weekend, you shattered it for You. I don't want me.


I don't want the way I do worship. I don't want the way I interact with others. I don't want my plans. 

You revealed to me this weekend Your plans for me. You revealed to me a piece of Your heart, and Father... that's what I want. 

I thirst for you. No, I yearn for you. And even more than that; I crave you. I ache for You, for Your voice, for Your breath on me. I covet Your presence and Your Spirit. I want you really, really bad Jesus. 

And so I abandon me. 

I lay down my fear of failure. I lay down my pride. I lay down my vanity. I lay down my hurt. I lay down my anger. God, I give to You my desire for a future relationship, for a marriage, for children. I give those to You, Father. Because right now, all I need is You. 

I give up my rights, Father. I give up every piece of my heart. I give my family to You. I give my friends to You. I give my church to You. I give my music; my voice and my guitar to You. I give you my desires. Every piece of my life, Father, reign over. Please be my Lord. I give you the throne.

I abandon me. I choose to pursue You.

I love you, Father. I love you. I love you.

Your Daughter,

Pure, Untainted, Joyous, WILD,

Emily Grace

There You go Making my Heart Beat Again

My day has been consumed with Skype dates, writing music and doing dishes. I look out the window into the overcast fields and see rain throwing itself from the sky and exploding into a million pieces onto the ground, gracing the face of the earth with its watery freckles. My brother and I are singing country music and exchanging playful banter while we hang out and laugh together.

Basically, it's a typical day. Except for one thing. 

All day, God has been speaking His exquisite, colorful love over me. I have slipped into His presence and have been standing in it all day. He whispers little things to my spirit and my flesh breaks out in chills, my mind coursing and climbing and plummeting to new depths and heights, exploring the things He's revealing to me. His voice has been present all day.

Recently I've been having a number of revelations, which you can tell by reading my past posts. A few weeks ago I felt like I was underwater spiritually; gasping for Him to breathe His air into me while swimming away from the surface, sabotaging myself of the one thing I desired the most. 

Today I broke surface. I've been striving for it for a week and a half and finally, I made it.

My heart has begun to beat again.

He fills my lungs with His sweet breath and I inhale... savoring the scent of His presence. And this is just the beginning. If I keep looking toward Him, I will soon recover from my bout beneath the choppy waters, and I will learn to climb into a boat with Him. I will learn to sail with Him and to explore new territory, all the while looking to the sky, looking up, breathing in, exhaling the poison from my system and taking in the wind and the oxygen He's provided for me. 

He's showing me what it's like to be a burst of vibrant color amidst the thunderstorms that are thrown in my face. And the most exciting part? In Him, I can be unstoppable. And I can provide color. 

So really all I need to do is breathe, and climb in this boat, and unfurl the sails, and let Him be my heartbeat.

I Had a Dream Once

Imagine a river, its silvery water writhing and collapsing around itself. It cascades along, careless. You can hear the power in that water. You can see the intensity, feel the noise of the waves bouncing off rapids. Stemming from the mountains, the water is frigid, breathtaking. It's purifying, refreshing, cleansing water. Even when you're standing hundreds of feet away, you can still hear the music of the water, screaming its melodies over rocks and branches and banks, rushing and falling and lapping against itself and the earth.

Somehow though, as you go about whatever you have on your agenda during the day, the fact that a river exists a short distance away slips your mind. Oh, the remembrance of it still exists in the back of your mind, you haven't actually forgotten, but it's no longer a conscious thought. You no longer revel in the throaty, beautiful sound it produces. The incredible sense of peace and passion it had previously evoked in your spirit has dimmed...

Sometimes you remember the river and your heart beats a little faster in anticipation of hearing it once again, seeing its power and hearing the glorious noise it creates.

Sometimes your concentration breaks a bit and the noise rushes over you again and you breathe a sigh, because it's a wonderful sound.

Sometimes you don't even notice that you're not noticing anymore.

Sometimes you forget altogether, and wander away, and never return.

Oh, that we would remember.

Can you imagine? Can you imagine living every day being able to hear the glorious, melodious sound echoing slightly in your spirit? And when you really want to experience it in its fullness, all you need to do is wander to the edges and take it in. Immerse yourself in it, even, if you need refreshment. It may seem painful or cold at first, but afterwards you won't regret it, because you feel renewed, awake and alive and alert. It's wonderful.

Imagine if Jesus was this river. Just think about it. And then, when you've thought about that for a bit, 

re-read this post. 

My desire is to live with the crash and murmur of His presence, of His voice, living in my spirit every moment of my life. I desire Him. 

What would it be like to feel Him every second of the day, whether awake or asleep? Can you imagine the beauty, the refreshing, gorgeous, incredible, awe-inspiring, breathtaking wonder that would be?

Can you imagine?

Rain. Pour. Flood.

Raindrops. They basically define the Northwest United States. We joke about "liquid sunshine" and about how you know you're from the Northwest when you don't own an umbrella, but own about 4 NorthFace raincoats. We play in the rain, we walk in the rain, we sing in the rain, we drink coffee in the rain. It's a way of life here. We don't let it hinder us. Yes, we would rather have sunshine, but the rain is such a constant companion that we are accustomed to dancing in it as skillfully as we dance under the sunshine.

Raindrops. I've been reading Psalm 104 over and over for the past few weeks, and GOODNESS. I've never heard so much about life-giving water. The psalmist speaks of God's intense and beautiful glory, His passion for His creation, His life-breathing, drenching, soaking, purifying rain that invokes in the plants and the beasts of the land the desire to thrive. The waters flee at the sound of His name, yet they flow and rush over the inhabitants of the land when the appointed time has come. After the flood that Noah and his family survived, God gave us a promise that He wouldn't flood the earth with water again.

I went on a hike yesterday with my friend, and when we reached the top of this huge hill (Angel's Rest, Oregon), you could see for miles around. We could see out over the Colombia river into Washington State, and we could see the clouds unleashing their water over the land a few miles away, heading towards us. We read Psalm 104 just as it began to rain, and the power of those words combined with the physical rain that the heavens were unleashing brought bouts of giggles from both of us. I've been sensing the re-occurring theme of rain. Songs keep coming up on Pandora about rain, I watched a movie last night where moments of beauty happened in the rain, and I woke up to rain this morning.    

JESUS. I desire rain.

What if the rain that we speak about doesn't just come in physical form? What if the rain that Psalm 104 expounds on isn't just the rain that falls from the clouds above, but is also the rain of Jesus' presence and love, falling from the heavens in a tangible and incredible, soaking way? What if when we woke up in the morning and looked out the window and saw sunshine, we thanked God for His life-giving rain that was to fall that day? WHAT IF WE PRAYED FOR RAIN?

JESUS. I want rain. I want YOU. I want YOUR rain on my face, Your floodwaters drowning me, Your raindrops splattering all over me and drenching me in YOUR presence and in YOUR power. I want You to flood us not with the physical water, Lord, but with Your rushing waters of passion and love and the desire to thrive in YOUR name! I want to feel Your rain splashing on my feet, rushing in streams and rivers and lakes and oceans over this world, over these dry and dusty, desolate lands and hearts. I want to sing of Your rain, I want to dance in Your rain, I want to climb the mountains around and look over the valleys and the towns and see Your rain.

Rain down on us, Lord. Rain down. Open the floodgates of heaven. Let all these songs that shout of Your rain begin to shout even louder as my desire, as the desire of passionate hearts around the world cry out and yearn for Your rain. Let Your rain come, Father. We will cry out, we will never relent, we will speak of Your rain and of Your glorious life water until You come to bring us into Your kingdom. Flood us, Father. Drench us. Consume us. 

Bring on the rain.