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.

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.

Worship Night/Fundraiser

September 2012 marks an incredible point in life for me as one of my passions will be fulfilled. I am traveling to Belize, Central America to staff at a YWAM (Youth With a Mission) school on an island called San Pedro. While staffing, I have the opportunity to mentor college-age students, lead small groups, teach, help lead team-building activities, and usher the Spirit of God into the lives of the broken, hurting, joyful and lovely children of our Father!

My goal is to share a taste of the passion and love that I have for the children of the Most High, and to help you gather a glimpse of how I will be able to impact and strengthen their lives in Christ, as well as growing in mine.

Please come support me in prayer, spirit, and funding as I share about my journeys to Belize and South Africa last year, as well as speak about where I will be going and exactly what I will be doing this year when I head back down to Central America. I would absolutely love to meet with you and share with you, as well as answer questions that you may have for me!

Join me as I share my life story with you, and speak about how incredible God's freedom and joy have been in my life! My heart is ready to open up, and I am so excited to bare myself and share my testimony with you in an intimate setting. My desire is for you to experience the passion that I have for Jesus and for His direction in my life.

Later in the evening, there will be a worship session, to which you are all invited! Feel free to come or go as you please during this time, but I encourage you to stay and enter into the presence of our Jesus as we devote this time back to Him and His glory!

Thank you so much for all of your support! I look forward to seeing you soon and being able to open up and share the deepest parts of my heart with you.

Date/time: August 10, 2012 at 7pm

Location:  Christian Life Center Church, 1832 Scott Rd. Freeland, WA 98249

If you have any questions, please call or text me at: 360-320-3112    
Or e-mail me at: friedchicken177@gmail.com

Spread the word. :)

My Salvation Lies in Your Love

I get scared.

Especially when I realize that my talents and character and all the things that I pride myself on are nothing more than dust. 

My talents fail me. My character fails me. My thoughts--my very flesh--it will always, always fail me. I can not rely on myself. 

I can rely on my God. I can rely on the fact that day after day, no matter where I am, what I'm doing, He will be there, right next to me. He will always be the one taking my hand and helping me up, leading me over mountains and through the deep recesses of the earth. 

And even better, when I am feeling weak and terrified and am worrying that what I am about to do will fail me, He gives me His voice. He gives me His strength. He gives me His hands, and His feet, and His heart. 

And when I feel like I'm being attacked, like life is getting too hard, he steps in carries me. He rides the heavens to help me. And He promises to do it again, and again, and again...

Because He loves me.

Jesus, YOU are worthy. Take my life and let it be used for Your glory. Take all of me, everything, my faults and my failures and my joys and my strengths. And Jesus... run with it. Shape me. Create, and re-create, and  chisel away, and bring forth your sweet fragrance in my heart, in my life. 

Because I love you. 

And I desire more.

This is What it Looks Like to be Real Sometimes.

I'm so incredibly small.

Sometimes, I get frustrated because I can't eat what I want to eat. Sometimes I get frustrated that I live in a state that has rain 90% of the year. (Made that statistic up... but it's probably true.) Sometimes I get frustrated because I don't like my clothing. Today was one of those days.

I found myself in my room, standing helplessly in the middle of a pile of clothing, upset because I didn't want to wear any of it. I felt like my clothing was outdated, out of style, old. I felt like it didn't fit just how I wanted it to, or it didn't look as good as last time I wore it. 

And then I realized what I was doing. Honestly, how utterly sick is it that I stand in the middle of a warm, carpeted room with three windows, a bed, closets, mirrors, shoes, a couch, on the top floor of a rambling farm house, and I am upset about my clothing choice? I know people--I know children--whose clothing is ripped, and baggy, and fading, and literally falling off of their back. I know people whose only house is a couple of random pieces of wood set up together and placed against a concrete wall. I know people who have no place to sleep at night, except for the cold, hard ground under the trash on the side of the street. Yet here I am, standing in my room whining because I don't want to wear my striped shirt today, and I can't find clean socks. 

It saddens me to remember that before I fell in love with God I was a selfish and haughty, proud human being. What saddens me even more than that though, is that I have found myself slowly slipping back into that same cycle. 

The fact that "fitting in" or being "in style" concerns me even a little is almost a warning flag to me. It's not a bad thing to be stylish, or to be able to relate to people. However, I find myself questioning my motives when that is consuming me, and I know that I have gone too far when I step back and see that I am in a situation like the one I found myself in today... standing in the middle of a heap of blessings, and complaining because I don't have more, or better, or bigger, or prettier. 

How did I become this? The realization of where I had let my attitude drift to started a whole new round of frustration, and with it determination. So today, I wage war. I don't know how to be any different than the selfish woman that I am on my own, and so I make a choice. I will cling to my Jesus harder and fiercer than before, because without Him, this life of mine is worthless. I don't want to be proud, or haughty, or selfish, or flaunt myself in any way, and so I cast those cares aside and I claim freedom from those. I want to live a life of servanthood.

I remember the sweetness of His presence and the sound of His voice in my spirit, the rush of His wind against my skin and the colors He painted around me. I remember visions He has given me and His promise of more to come. I remember Him being so much that I literally cannot describe Him. I am so thirsty to return to that place where I could sit in His presence and feel His peace and His heartbeat and stay there for hours without becoming restless. So once again, I sit before Him, a pitiful human, and I offer myself up.

I mentioned in my last post that I am ready for whatever He has for me, and I truly am. I am a broken, tired little girl, but honestly... that doesn't even matter. Because where I end, He begins. Where my spirit is full of frustration, His is full of grace. When I don't know what to sing, He places a melody in my heart. And that, my friends... that is extraordinary.

Oregon. Laughter. Waterfall.

I'm sitting at my computer in sweats and a t-shirt, drinking steaming homemade Chai tea, face scrubbed clean of makeup. It's raining outside. I'm exhausted. I'm listening to chill music. I went camping this past weekend, so being clean, in clean sweats and having clean hair feels incredible.

This past weekend was a challenge for me. I was invited by a friend to go camping near Roseburg, Oregon, with her former college group from Suburban Christian Church. I headed to Oregon on Monday the 21st, and spent a few days with my friend before we drove down to Corvallis to meet up at Suburban on Friday with the group of campers who were heading in earlier than others. 

First of all: I love camping. And I absolutely love meeting new people. But this weekend, God had a lesson for me.

When we arrived at our campsite and had finished setting up, and the rest of the campers arrived, we ate dinner and played a few games that helped us familiarize ourselves with each other. Normally, I'm pretty good at meeting people and starting up conversations, but for some reason this weekend, I was scared. Terrified of messing up and of letting people down. I hadn't realized I had slipped back into the fear of man until Saturday afternoon. I was invited multiple times to go hiking with a few different groups of people during free time Saturday, but I declined. I suppose that I was nervous that I wouldn't be able to keep up (I have exercise-induced asthma... LAME excuse not to go hiking!) or that I'd not know how to strike up conversation. Essentially, I was being a complete bore and absolutely ridiculous. 

Instead of hiking, I went down to the river and sat against one of the concrete pillars holding up one side of the bridge. I brought my Bible and notebook down with me and set them both down under a plant growing on the side of the concrete and rocks I was sitting on. I took a sip of my tea from my mug... and just listened.

Have you ever sat beside a river and just let the noise of the water wash over you? It's healing. It's cleansing. It's exhilarating. As I was sitting, a thought popped into my head.

"Em... what are you afraid of?" 

Confused, I answered. "Sickness. Pain...being caged...?" I wasn't entirely sure where this was going.

"No." The thought echoed, persistent, "What are you afraid of? Why are you afraid to speak to people? Why are you afraid to interact?" 

I was blown away. Here I was, sitting alone by a river, feeling sorry for myself, when I had clearly been asked and sought after by multiple people. I had been given opportunity to engage in numerous activities and tasks, and had backed out on each one. Seriously, how silly can I be? 

I spent some time in prayer and talking to God about my fears of people, and He so graciously reminded me that His strength is sufficient, and that my joy can be found in Him, not in the approval or thoughts of man. GOODNESS how freeing that can be! 

I'd love to say that I didn't give it another thought that weekend, but that would be lying. However, I did make an effort to be interactive with the rest of the group, and as I let myself out of my shell more, I received an incredible amount of acceptance, understanding, and love from those around me. I was talking with a friend about this, and she brought up an interesting question:

How often do we miss the love and grace that's offered or poured out to us, just because we are so intent on ourselves and our "protection"? I tend to completely, if unintentionally, ignore what's being set right in front of me out of concern for myself. I had realized this half a year ago, but I didn't realize how incredibly easy it was to slip back into this. Once I opened up, though... dang. God used my time so well. I was privileged to be able to share my complete story with two of my new friends, and stay up late talking with a friend about life, passions, dreams, and all the in-between things. 

Moral of this post: Trust. Don't let the little things get in the way. Deep down, there will always be a bit of insecurity. It's sad, but true, and being human and sinners, I don't think that it will ever go away. Thankfully, we serve a God, a Daddy, who is bigger, and stronger, and so much more on fire with passion for us that we can ever imagine. He will always carry us through, and when it's too much for us, that's where He begins to work most powerfully, because that is where we need to surrender. It was hard to learn surrender this weekend, but it ended up being a beautiful exchange, and in turn I was able to experience incredible grace and joy.

So, sitting here, in my sweats and finishing up my Chai... I'm entirely thankful to claim the love of my Daddy who fought for me, and will continue to fight for me. Thanks Jesus, for Your gentle and passionate ways of reminding me of my fragility and Your unending strength.