Church with a View.

Voices raised as knees touched the ground, heads lifted and arms stretched; life and joy and peace flooding the hearts of the people within the room. I stepped through the doorway and immediately a wave of raw love washed over me, pulling me further in. I was greeted by many, the love of their Jesus radiating from their faces as they welcomed me and my friend into the presence of the Almighty God with hugs and handshakes. We were invited to join in praising the Father as the music changed and Kim Walker's voice started to sing out glorious words over the sound system.

The Holy Spirit was alive here.

Fountains of glory rolled off the tongues of God's beautiful children as we opened our mouths and allowed His Spirit to speak in foreign languages through us. I closed my eyes and was overcome with the beauty and the passion that my Father has for me. Grasping the chair in front of me, I thanked Him and praised Him for His glorious love and presence within my life and the healing that He has brought to my heart. Joy cascaded over me and I laughed; a rich and deep flowing laughter that can only come from Him and His Spirit.

I felt alive here.

I spent three weeks in Orange County, California this month, and I learned so much more about the Father than I thought I was going to. The experience above was one of the most beautiful moments, one of the richest and most fulfilling nights of my time spent with the churches, but it only captures one facet of my Jesus.

He is diverse.

I was privileged to witness His love poured out on many different congregations; from the well-dressed beautiful souls at Saddleback Church to the tattered homeless at a local ministry church held in a back parking lot at a motel. A smaller, more familial-feeling church in Laguna hung in the balance between these two, evening it out with a more earthy, raw passion vibrating through its congregation. Throughout the entire process of meeting and worshiping with and loving on the wonderfully diverse and equally stunning people at each location, I was struck with an almost heart-wrenching, yet incredibly simple thought:

Jesus has so many faces.

Simply put, yet saddening because I often find myself, when thinking of Jesus and His children, stereotyping the people that should be in this "Christian" category. I place labels on people, I categorize and place them into mental boxes... and I absolutely hate that. I never want to judge by the exterior of the beautiful, fearfully and marvelously crafted men and women that stand before me at any given moment.

I can't describe how brilliantly wonderful it's been to see the many faces of God within this past month. And to think that He will continue to reveal Himself to me through the church; again and again... that is awe-inspiring.

His church has no denomination. It encompasses all who believe and trust in Him; the rich, the filthy, the Pentecostal and the Baptist, the alcoholic and the adulteress. There is no discrimination. His church is full of love; of life and of healing and of hope. It stands on His truth and His unwavering merciful and just nature; wrapping His children in His arms and showering them with His guidance and grace.

His church is beautiful.

Sing to God a brand new song;

sing His praises all over the world!

Let the sea and its fish give a round of applause

    with all the far-flung islands joining in.

Let the desert and its camps raise a tune

   Calling the Kedar nomads to join in.

Let the villagers in Sela round up a choir

    and perform from the tops of the mountains.

Make God’s glory resound;

    echo his praises from coast to coast."

-Isaiah 42:10-12

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.

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

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.