Consider a Jealous God

My heart cries out for more today. It screams for something deeper; something more vivid and alive. Something that I can grasp onto and hold, take it in as if it's my very own breath that I'm embracing. Something--no, Someone--that will hold me and keep me and birth in me a wild and abundant and lovely passion and burning for life.

I have been home in Washington for five weeks now. I left YWAM Destination Paradise in Belize five weeks ago with a heavy and faltering heart. I left with an angry and despairing and hurting spirit. I left with a sense of bitterness and frustration; towards others, but mostly focused towards myself.

I was reading in Hebrews 12 a few days ago and verse 3 kept playing over and over in my mind.

"For consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, 

lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls."

When I left DP, I was weary, discouraged. I hadn't been considering God and His passions and heart for me, and I fell into a state of thinking that was so inwardly focused that I couldn't see what He was speaking over me. Since being home, I have found that peace again. I have found the rest in Him that I have so desperately been craving, discovered once more the excitement and intimacy with my Father. He has been speaking into me life and color, breathing into my weary soul and reviving the joy within that is so natural for me. My heart is still in a process of healing, of finding a place where I can communicate healthily with those whom I have hurt and who have hurt me, but within this process I am learning to focus on God's peace and humble myself before Him daily, hourly, in every moment, because according to Deuteronomy 4:24;

"...the Lord your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God."

and

"Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken,
let us be thankful, and so worship God with reverence and awe,
for our God is a consuming fire." (Hebrews 12:28-29)

My God is a jealous God. He is a God thirsty for my love, hungering to get to know me better and craving my company. Who am I to deny Him His glory? It was foolish of me to step into sin and convince myself that He wasn't watching, that I could repent later. It would be foolish for me to run from that. Instead, I'm walking into His presence with a sense of utter peace and joy, because His grace and His love is bigger and more passionate than I could ever imagine. He is reining me in and teaching and growing and stretching me, and as this happens His restoration and His will for me encompasses me and burns in my heart; calling me and prodding me ever towards His feet, towards the throne, towards His beauty.

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.

Forfeit.

You know what the greatest tragedy in life is? It's someone whose god gets smaller and smaller with each passing day.

Maybe it's time to stop placing four-dimensional limits on God. Maybe it's time to stop putting God in a box the size of your cerebral cortex. Maybe it's time to stop creating God in your image and let Him create you in His.

The more we grow, the bigger God should get. And the bigger God gets, the smaller our lions will become.

- Mark Batterson

I'm currently reading a book called 'In a Pit With a Lion on a Snowy Day', written by Mark Batterson. It uses the story of Benaiah, from 2 Samuel 23. All we know about Benaiah is this:

Benaiah son of Jehoiada, a valiant fighter from Kabzeel, performed great exploits. He struck down Moab’s two mightiest warriors. He also went down into a pit on a snowy day and killed a lion. And he struck down a huge Egyptian. Although the Egyptian had a spear in his hand, Benaiah went against him with a club. He snatched the spear from the Egyptian’s hand and killed him with his own spear. (2 Sam. 23:20-21)

This book focuses on the fact that Benaiah followed a lion into a snowy pit... and killed it. Generally, one would never follow a lion down into a dark, snowy, cold pit with the sole purpose of killing it. Snow inhibits us as humans, it makes us cold and stiff. It's hard to maneuver in. And in the dark of a pit, it's even more slippery than usual because it's potentially crystallized into ice. Lions have superior vision to humans in the darkness; their eyes let in more light than ours, and they can see in the dark. They have four huge, sure paws and a thick fur coat to protect themselves from the cold. Clearly, the lion had the advantage.

Yet Benaiah wasn't fearful enough to run away from it; rather, he pursued this lion into it's own territory and killed it.

This is a wonderful analogy for my own personal fears. As I'm reading this book, I've been mulling over the fact that I have so many more fears underneath my surface than I imagined. I was sitting on the end of the dock last night, staring out at the deep black hovering over the sea, and I was intimately aware of the fact that I had fear welling up inside of me. I spent a good amount of time trying to decipher what the fear was from and I realized that, just as this book states, I've been putting my God into a four-dimensional box. I've been containing Him within the realms of my mind because that's what I understand. I can't understand or fathom the greatness of Him when He is outside of the confines that I've placed Him in.

This past week has been one of many such realizations, and I am actively taking a stand against the fear that so easily entangles me. I'm coming against the fear that my Father cannot protect me. I give up the control that I so desperately want to have, because I trust myself... and I choose to trust Him instead. I break the fear of failure, the fear of being hurt. I claim the freedom that has always been here, has always been placed in front of me, and I choose to dance in His wild and beautiful and fierce and loving presence with an expectancy of more life, of more depth.

I had a vision of myself dancing and twirling on top of the ocean, clothed in garments of silver, my hair flowing behind me, streaked with purple and gold, my eyes burning with an intense joy. A single crystalline tear traveled down my face, and I grinned. That was it. No explanation came for a few moments, and then I started to pray it out, and it made so much sense. I want to dance in the royalty and the raw, wild joy that He has given me. I will let myself be vulnerable, let my emotions show like that single tear on my cheek, clear and shining and real. I will let myself do the impossible; dancing on water and laughing in the face of the fear that says that I can't.

I will not forfeit my dreams for fear of the unknown. My dreams hold a weight of enormity; they speak of passion and they cry out for adventure. I will not quench or silence these dreams and ambitions because of the fear of inadequacy. I will tame my fear. I will walk in His freedom. And I will kill the lions within, because in Him, I can slaughter beasts and love the unlovable in the same breath.

My God will not be placed in a box.

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.

I trust...Sometimes.

I trust.

I trust the chair I'm sitting in to hold me. 

I trust the floor I walk on to carry my weight.

I trust the water I drink and the food I consume to keep me alive.

But do I trust God?

I have a hard time trusting that He will take care of me. And so today, I'm taking a step of faith. I had a lengthy conversation with Him this morning about my lack of funds, and I kept hearing Him say, 

"Trust me." Not a suggestion. Not a casual, "Hey, Em, maybe you should trust me a little more. Think you can do that?" But a sincere, peace-filled, I-Know-What-I'm-Doing statement. 

"Trust me." And so I am. I'm trusting that He will provide the money I need to pay staff fees/visa renewal, and general living costs. I asked Him this morning if He would provide just enough, and heard Him replying to me;

"How much do you want?"

Well, God. I need enough for staff fees. It'd be nice to pay off a few months in advance so I don't need to worry about it... but I'll take what you give me.

"No, that wasn't my question, Em. How much do you want?"

Um. I need enough to pay for my visa renewal every month, so $150 would last me for 6 months. Plus staff fees to pay for a few months out. And staff fees are $200 a month... so, I don't know, maybe about $950 would be generous.

"Baby Girl, my Wild One, whom I've chosen, how much money do you want Me to provide?"

I wrestled with His question for quite awhile, and it finally hit me--He wants to provide more than I need. He wants to give me above and beyond that which I ask for. So I'm praying in $8000. I don't know where it will come from, or how it will come, or how long it will take to get, but I believe that He can provide. I believe He has the means to support me while I'm here. This was His idea in the first place, and I believe that as long as I am obedient, He will provide. I do need to take action as well and send support letters out, but that's in the process. I'm trusting Him.

Jesus, I want $8000. I realize that some may think that's greedy, or too much. But it's not. You know what I need it for, what I will use it for, who I will bless with bits a pieces of it. I trust You to provide. 

I trust.

Walking Over Fire

Three weeks have passed since this school started, and each day has been packed full of activity. 

Week three is coming to a close, and the students are blowing my mind.

This past week Lynn Toney has been teaching. Her week was all about gaining freedom through forgiveness, acknowledging your patterns of sin, and processing everything that's happened to you in your past to shape who you are today. Every day this week has been intense; Lynn has been cracking down on the students and pouring God's love and passion over them--challenging them every step of the way to face their pasts, acknowledge their present behavior and thought process, and to gain freedom for their future.

I am so proud of every single student here. They've been slowly moving forward, taking ownership of their character and deciding whether or not to live out their lives in integrity. We've been constantly praying and doing spiritual battle with them over their relationships with God and their roles here on earth. Some of these students are challenging--there are always a few--but it's been incredibly encouraging and beautiful to see every single person opening up a bit more to the prospect that they have a significant dent on this earth, and that God has so much more for them than living in the places that they're at; full of hurt, anger, apathy. 

It's a beautiful thing when you start to see 34 students have light-bulb moments, moments where they start to get that they're not as put together as they think, and that they want God so much more than the worlds influences. They're learning that their pasts dictate how they see God, that they need to get past that point where they think He brought everything upon them, but that He did in fact walk through every moment with them.

This week has been powerful, we've seen some students start to break apart the walls around their hearts and embrace the love and freedom that God is pouring into them. Some of them don't realize it's a process quite yet and it won't happen in one moment, but they'll get it.

This is a beautiful, heart-wrenching, incredible process to be a part of. It's such an honor to be a small group leader to nine girls whose hearts are in completely different places, who come from intensely different situations and families but still have beautiful characteristics or past happenings in common. Each one of "my girls", and every single other student on this base--male or female--is a profound statement of the love and passion that Jesus has for this earth. The fact that He's brought together 34 incredibly different personalities and somehow made them all click is a testimony of His greatness in itself. Each one of these beautiful children of the Most High are becoming more and more precious in my heart, and I can't wait to see where He will bring them. 

Jesus is good. His love is pouring over this school--over the staff and the students--in an alarming wave of healing and freedom. This is like walking over coals to some of us--to most of us. The students are heading into unknown territory; walking through their pasts and making a decision whether or not to live in freedom and let healing overtake them.

PRAYER REQUESTS

Please continue to pray that we would all be open to the Holy Spirit and His movement and direction. He's been leading us into battle against the enemy, and it's been a beautiful and difficult process. 

Please continue to pray for spiritual strength and unity for the staff members, that we would be completely open with each other and that God's grace, peace and courage would infiltrate every situation that we walk through with the students.

Please pray that the students would continue to embrace Jesus, to let Him hug them in return and take away their pain. They're unsure and frustrated, but it's been amazing so far. The enemy SO wants to take them down, and in a way it's working with some of them. 

But we as believers have a bigger power and the authority, so let's claim that! 

God has SO much healing and restoration in store for this school. He has been speaking integrity and character over them at every single turn, and I am praying that they begin to own that. 

Galatians 5:19-25

The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery;  idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.

Thank you for your support--I appreciate every single one of you!

One-Way Ticket. Jesus is Gooooood.

I am three or four days from leaving this wonderful Island of Whidbey to head to another island that holds a precious warmth in my heart: the island of San Pedro, Belize. My heart constricts when I think of leaving my family behind indefinitely, of parting ways with my friends and those who I have grown up with. But the excitement and anticipation is even greater than the sadness.

I shared my testimony one week ago at my church, baring my heart to the community and inviting my audience to join me in worship with our Jesus after my story was told. My life has been one of pain and confusion, but Jesus has been faithful, and has never stopped loving on me. His breath has sweetened over me this past year; His presence has become more tangible, His voice more audible. 

One of my sisters was praying over me yesterday and as she was praying, one of the phrases she spoke to our Daddy caught me off guard, took my breath away.

"Daddy, thank You that our past is not just in the past, but that You are continuing to use it right now, and You will continue to use it in the future." That's not word-for-word, but that's the basic gist of what she said.

Jesus continues to use my past, my faults, my flaws, to bring Himself glory, and to heal this land. He's giving me the opportunity to take these experiences and to spread His love and His life in Belize. He's calling me to speak His good word over the hurting, the poor, the captive, the broken, the speechless, the weary, the angry, the rich and the powerful. He's taking me near to His heart and He is inviting me into His presence.

I have the wonderful opportunity to be on staff at YWAM Destination Paradise in Belize this next September. I'll be a small group leader to 9 girls. I will have the opportunity to speak Jesus' love into their lives, to listen to them, to be there for them, to love on them. I will have the privilege of teaching, of helping with team-building activities. But best of all, I will be doing what Jesus is calling me to do.

I'm headed to Belize in about three or four days. I'm buying a one-way ticket. I don't have the money for my plane ticket yet. But I believe. I believe He will provide, even if it's in the last moment. I've put a ticket on hold with American Airlines. It will only hold for 24 hours.

It costs $481.68.

Jesus has $481.68. I trust Him. I know that this is where I am supposed to be, and I know that He will provide, whether through people, or through a miracle. HE IS FAITHFUL.

Jesus, I surrender my financial state to You. I surrender every fear to You. I trust You. I trust You.

"I will depend on You. All of my hope is in You. I will depend on You.

I will have faith in You. All of my hope is in You. I will depend on You."

-United Pursuit Band

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I would love for you to join me in missions and in carrying out Jesus love! If you would like to partner with me in prayer, or financially, or just want to stay updated on what's going on in my life/walk with Jesus, please e-mail me for more information!

friedchicken177@gmail.com

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.

And then I Became Undone

There's something about a bonfire that draws me in. The flame is so mesmerizing, dancing and twirling around the wood, creating and re-creating an endless recital of passion.

Last night I was gathered around a bonfire with five of my closest friends, and as we sat and talked and laughed together, something in the atmosphere was unleashed. A passion that had been kindled in each of our hearts was slowly loosed as we began to venture deeper into topics close to our hearts.

I have been struggling in the weeks past. I have been hearing from God and blatantly ignoring His call and His direction. He has been pouring into me a desire and a passion that I have been pushing aside and refusing to take a closer look at. Last night I expressed my distress and frustration over this, and a friend asked me, "Emily. What are you afraid of?"

Though I knew the answer, this question knocked me off of my feet. How blind I have been! I have seen what God asks of me, I have seen visions and heard songs that speak of what will come, should I choose to follow His calling. I have had dreams full of His heart for others and His desire to heal and provide for the hurting, for the desperate, for the lost and the angry. I know what I am supposed to do. And until now, I haven't wanted to acknowledge it. Last night, however... something broke. My heart has been harboring fear of the unknown, and as my friend provoked me to think about this, something in my spirit came undone.

I am afraid of people. I am afraid that when I step out into what my Father is calling me to do, I will look like a fool. I'm afraid that I will be looked down upon, and I will be despised, rejected, and cast away from people. I know that what I am called to do is big, and I know that I will lose face. I have been afraid of stepping away from my pride for fear I will lose it, and I have been afraid that my reputation will be shot once I move into this boldness that is drawing me nearer.

Today, I am here to say that I am willing. I am willing to look the part of a fool. I am willing to be cast aside. I am willing to lose my reputation, to lose my friendships, to lose my family and my church and my house and every single comfort that I have. I am willing, because I know that no matter what, no matter how far I go, no matter where I am called, the Protector and the Redeemer is standing right next to me. Ultimately, that is what matters. I am willing to lose my life of comfort and of standards and of expectations to pick up the life of a servant, a life of servitude and blessing others, a life of joy and of pain and of laughter and tears, of stepping into the places no one else is willing to go, of going there with people and being one hundred percent vulnerable and open. I am willing to lose it all, because through losing this life, I am gaining a much better one.

So this is me, expressing my fears and my faults and my failures and thanking God that HE is sovereign and that HE is my identity and my drivng force. Without Him, I will come undone. Within Him, I am unstoppable. I claim His power and His freedom and His strength, boldness, and courage, and I say that this life I am living, it's His.

Here I am, I stand with arms wide open, to the One, the Son, the everlasting God.

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.