Little Chunk of Sunshine

I was at work today (I work at a Pizzeria), clearing off tables and re-setting them, going through the now-familiar motions and listening to the chatter of the customers around me. I was just about to walk away from the area I was in when an older couple sitting at a nearby table stopped me. The gentleman peered at me from behind his glasses-clad blue eyes and gave me a grin,

"Young lady, are you going to school?" I replied that I wasn't right now, but was saving money to go to school for psychology and music. His wife's eyes lit up and she put her hand on my arm, thoroughly excited for me. I spent the next ten minutes talking with this couple as they asked me about my dreams and my adventures; encouraging me in my interests and very sternly telling me that, "The world can always find more waitresses, but not many are willing to help others psychologically. Go after your dream!"

I can't describe how incredibly blessed I am by this couple. I don't know their names, but I dearly hope that this lovely couple realized how much they mean to those around them; their willingness to take the time to stop and get to know a 20-year-old waitress at a pizzeria for a few minutes drastically changed the atmosphere of my entire day. It was a beautifully God-orchestrated meeting, and though God wasn't once mentioned in our conversation, I believe that He was specifically placing them in my day to bless me, and in turn for me to bless them.

I love kind people. I love how excitement spreads. I love that a ten-minute conversation with complete strangers can inspire in me an attitude to exhort the passions and desires in others, encouraging them to follow their dreams as I chase after mine.

I am so thankful for the generations that have gone before mine; for those who are wise and experienced in this world. I am so thankful for this couple; for the time and energy they spend encouraging others.

I am ridiculously blessed.

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.

I Have a Voice

There are nights when I sit on the dock and look out into the deep black that is the ocean in front of me, wondering why in the world I have been called to be here. I lean against the pole of the palapa roof that is hovering over my head, breathing the salt-and-wind laced air that is my constant companion.

I don't feel inadequate here; I can honestly say that that isn't what makes me question. I love what I do, I love the leadership role that I am in. I love being immersed in a culture that revolves around the Father from whom we all came. I wouldn't do any of this differently. Maybe 'why' isn't necessarily the correct question; rather, how? How am I equipped to continue to live here? How am I going to fulfill the calling that I know has been placed on my life? I have been called to inspire; to reach the college-age generation and to speak life and meaning and purpose over them. To call the youth of this world up into leadership, into a life-bringing people whose energy spills from them, engulfing those around and reaching to the depths of the souls that are hurting and crying out for freedom. I am called to protect and feed the weak, to encourage and challenge and push the strong, to call out the apathetic and to love on the hurting.

I am called to use my voice.

I had the incredible opportunity to teach one day of lectures here at YWAM Destination Paradise. I had 3 hours on January 17th to teach our students about leaving a legacy of integrity. However, you can't leave a legacy without knowing first who you are, without being secure in your identity. I taught on how to find your identity in Christ, about how to leave the baggage that we so easily and so harshly pack for ourselves and carry with us throughout our lives; those things that we are ashamed of and worried about and the things that we feel make us "dirty" or "unlovable" or "slutty" or a "jackass". Those things that we haul around that label us "unworthy", "abusive", "selfish", "stupid". These are things we are called to drop; to abandon and to leave behind us as we step into a new identity: an identity reflecting Isaiah 62.

I spent three hours speaking life into these students, praying over them and seeking God for truths and freedom to speak into their lives. I knew as soon as I stepped up in front of the students that this was where I wanted to be; in front of young adults, speaking life and love and freedom and healing over them. I am called to fulfill Isaiah 61; calling healing into people's lives and freeing the captives from their hurt and the chains that have so easily entangled them in the past.

Teaching is something that I know will be a part of my future with YWAM, whether it's just here at DP, or I might decide to develop my own teaching week. We'll see what God has for me. So far, this school has been wonderful; it's been challenging in it's own way, but I can see God moving so freely and so beautifully in the lives of everyone on base here; staff and students alike.

This past week has been particularly challenging for me; I'm learning to walk further in the truths that God's speaking over me and am finding areas that still need healing from my past. It's a journey, and it always will be, but it is so worth it to walk this out in a community of people that I know are fighting for me, with a God who I know has my back. He is continuing to blow my mind and is ever shaping me into a beautiful creature in Him.

I'm walking forth into further freedom, leaving behind the lies and the areas that I have been caught up in, claiming His life and love over myself.

"It is for freedom that Christ has set you free; stand fast, therefore, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." -Galatians 5:1

Walking Forward.

My deepest fear is that I'll forget.

That I'll forget what's happened to me in the past year. That the memories will fade, and that I won't be able to recall the moments of bliss, of pain, of healing and of realization that I've experienced. I'm afraid that the relationships I've made will change, that they will fall away and become little more than dust. I'm afraid that I'll forget what my Jesus did for me, that I'll forget what it was like to live without Him, and that I'll slowly fall into a pattern of apathy regarding my relationship with Him.

And I've been letting this fear drive me. I've been re-living and writing down and going over and looking through the memories, whether in pictures or in my brain and heart, and I've been documenting them as best as I can. But, through this, I've lost sight of the road I'm on.

I was talking with a friend the other night, and in our conversation he mentioned that I seemed like the kind of person who looks to the past more than the future. I answered by saying, essentially, that I have a mix of both... but now that I've thought about it, I think he's right. I've spent too much time looking back while walking forward, and today I stumbled.

I can't explain what happened exactly, but I realized that I've been ignoring what Jesus has been trying to teach me and where He's been leading me recently. And I don't like that.

Not one bit.

I think it's time for me to stop running in circles and focus on what He has for me, and while I can keep a healthy perspective of the past and a healthy outlook on the future, I need to be here, now, with Him, doing what He's calling me to do.

So that's my plan--not to plan, to let Him direct, to let Him do what He does best, and lead me.

And as for forgetting, I think He created the brain for a reason. I have the mental capacity to remember, so... I don't need to worry about it.

I may be Weak... but You're Yahweh.

Today is hard. 

Today I skipped church and had my own personal worship time at home, because it's quiet here and I needed to cry. 

Today, I'm having a really hard time trusting God. I'm having a hard time trusting that He will come through, that He will provide. I'm having a hard time trusting Him with my funds for this September. I'm having a hard time letting Him take my fear.

Today, I give up.

I give up that fear that's lurking in my mind, the one that keeps whispering that I won't make it to Belize in a few weeks. I give up that fear that says that my money isn't going to come in. I give up that fear that I'm not worth donating money or prayer or time to. 

This is God's plan, not mine. It wasn't my plan to leave for Belize again this September. I wanted to go to North Carolina, or back to Africa. It wasn't my plan to be here in Washington for the summer. It definitely wasn't my plan to be in missions. But it was God's plan. And really, that's enough for me. 

That's enough. God, You are enough. And so I give up these fears, I give up these irrational thoughts that You won't come through, that You don't know what You're doing, and I choose to trust. I choose to give it up, give me up, to You. Simply because You are Yahweh. And I am not. 

So here. Take me.

"God, I look to You. I won't be overwhelmed. Give me vision to see things like You do. God, I look to You. You're where my help comes from. Give me wisdom, You know just what to do. So I will love you..."

-God I Look To You, Bethel Church

"You, God, are my God,

    earnestly I seek you;

I thirst for you, 

    my whole being longs for you,

in a dry and parched land

    where there is no water.

 I have seen you in the sanctuary 

    and beheld your power and your glory. 

 Because your love is better than life, 

    my lips will glorify you.

 I will praise you as long as I live, 

    and in your name I will lift up my hands. 

 I will be fully satisfied as with the richest of foods; 

    with singing lips my mouth will praise you."

-Psalm 63:1-5 (NIV)

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.

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.

Spinning.

Some days, my life takes a turn and suddenly, I'm staring down a road that I don't recognize. I'm left gazing down a dusty path that seems too harsh, or too uncomfortable, or too unfamiliar for me to travel down. And so I sit down, and I wait. For what? I'm not sure. Maybe I wait for a car to come along, so I can ride along the dusty path in comfort, letting the air conditioning and the radio carry me along. Maybe it's a truck that I'm waiting for, then I'll get to my destination faster, even if I am riding on a bumpy road in the back of a truck. I'll get a little dirty, but hey! I get to the end quicker.

As I sit at the beginning of my own little road, I wonder if I'm waiting for another path to reveal itself, to open up, to conjure itself into being. And, as I sit staring down this existing road, I wonder. What am I really doing here?

I spend so much time waiting and waiting, wondering where my life is going to go and how I'm going to get to my destination, what I'm going to eat or do on the way there... where I'm doing to live, work, and who I'm going to meet. I waste my time daydreaming about how my life will be, hoping something comes along that will sweep me up and carry me towards the end of whatever I'm trying to accomplish faster.... when really, the answer to my pondering is staring right at me. All I have to do is take a step forward.

This is what my life looked like six months ago. I was in Africa, working with a team of 12 other YWAM students and leaders, visiting orphanages and picking up trash on streets around our home. I was doing street ministry on a daily basis, praying over people, performing skits, singing songs, preaching, giving my testimony. I was going to drug rehab programs and hanging out with people whose lives were just as messed up as mine--albeit in a different way. I was experiencing freedom through holding African children, tickling them, chasing them, making faces at them, rubbing their little backs during church while they slept, draped across my lap. 

Now I am home. I sleep, eat, hang out with my family, and look for work. I go to church, I wonder what is next. 

This past Saturday night, I received some major revelations from God, words of life were spoke over me and my eyes were opened to things that I had never before considered. And I had one incredible realization: 

I have given up on freedom. 

Wait, what? Ninety percent of my blog posts are about freedom, how could I have given up on it? I have been experiencing freedom to a degree since I have been home, but really... I have given up on it's true and pure form. Arriving home, I slowly let myself forget what it was like to wake up in the morning and give the day to God, and then really listen to Him throughout the day for direction. I forgot what it was like to drink water from the tap and open my fridge and have food in it, and stop and take a moment to thank Him for what I have when I know others have so little. I forgot what it was like to truly worship Him, with every aspect of my life, rather than just when I hear a good song that convicts me or moves me in my spirit. I forgot what He was like.

What am I really doing here? This is the question I have been asking myself for the past few days. Am I really, truly seeking my Father's face? Am I really, honestly wanting to grow closer? I think about spending time with Him a lot, but am I really willing to go there? 

And I find myself nodding. I thirst for Him more now that I ever have before, and I think that's because I know what He is like. I know His presence, and I know that I have been running from it. And so here I am. Wrecked, and vulnerable, and wanting Him so badly that I ache, because His presence and direction is so worth it to me. I am willing to go there, willing to bare myself to Him, willing to come out of hiding, because really... He is the only One who can bring me everything I need. Including true freedom.

"My dove in the clefts of the rock,

    in the hiding places on the mountainside,

show me your face,

    let me hear your voice;

for your voice is sweet,

    and your face is lovely."

Song of Songs 2:14 

Here I am.

Right now, my heart is raw. Sometimes my awe for my God seems like it will take over me. It almost feels like I'm drowning in the intensity of it, in the ecstasy that His presence in my life evokes. I was home alone on Tuesday morning and I plugged my iPod into our sound system in my living room and was blasting worship music, and I could feel Him so strongly... I spent most of the time on my knees, arms limp at my sides, tears on my cheeks, because really, I can't comprehend Him. I can't even begin to grasp how much He loves me. I can't begin to fathom the pure, unbridled, unashamed, unadulterated LOVE that He pours on me. Seriously. He loves me. ME. Silly, clumsy, goofy, uncoordinated, ridiculous, messy, unintentionally-rude-half-the-time me. 

Tonight, this is what is blowing my mind. Tonight, YOU blow my mind, God. Thank You Jesus for never giving up on me. Thank You that in all Your fullness, You make me whole. You take away my emptiness and You re-create me. Thank You, Jesus. Thank You for Your undying passion for me. Thank You that Your nature, Your Character, they are unchanging. Just thank you.

And... to wrap this up, a beautiful song, with one of my best friends singing; Joanie Banville. Thanks Jesus, for Jo and her pure love for You. :)