For Mom and Dad...

Though I will forever be proud to be an American and I love my country dearly, I have noticed something about the character of our nation.  American culture wants everything, and we want everything right now, here, immediately in this moment.  I am a victim to this mindset every day, we all are.  

Does that affect the decisions we make on a regular basis, or the signs that we expect the God of the universe to send us so that we make the right life choices?  The answer is unequivocally, yes.  Absolutely.  We are a demanding people.   We are a people easily distracted by the next shiny opportunity, and a people even more easily disappointed by not getting what we want, when we want it.

And I am the essence of that imperfection.  

In August of 2012 after I had spent almost two months home from my first trip to Uganda, I became infected with anxiety and depression.  I was restless, irrational and unable to think critically or clearly about where my life was going and the important steps I needed to take to fulfill my calling and purpose on this earth.  I thought seriously about dropping out of school, and even woke my parents up in the middle of the night to tell them that I had to move back to Uganda immediately (that was a fun conversation).  My life was chaotic because I wouldn't allow my mind to shut up for five seconds so I could listen to what God was whispering to me in the quiet.  I was angry at him, and I wanted him to write something clear and bright in the sky.  I wanted answers, directions.  And I wanted them now.  

I didn't get any answers, because I refused to listen.  

But God is ultimately victorious, and he can break the most stubborn and angry people.  I know this because I was that person.  I couldn't see the gifts he had placed in front of me.  I didn't recognize how much my family loved me, or how unbelievably lucky I was to attend a university in one of the most beautiful regions in the country, surrounded by an even more beautiful community of people.  Instead, I idolized being an "African Missionary" and came up with my own idea of what that was supposed to look like.  I thought that dropping my entire life, my family and friends and picking up to move without a plan was what I had to do.  You'd be surprised to know that most of the time, life just doesn't work out that way... 

So after weeks of fighting with my family and causing a lot of pain, I decided to go back to school to take a little time to breathe.  I started listening, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing.  The Holy Spirit began pressing on my heart that East Africa was not my destiny.  God shattered the image I had painted for my life, and tore my security away from me as I realized how my identity lay in a suffocating image of living a life that was ultimately based on guilt.  I felt guilty for being American, for being born into this precious life.  

Once I realized this and let my self-proclaimed identity die, life began to change.  It wasn't about pouring myself into the lives of the beautiful people I met last summer or thinking that I had anything to offer them, because I don't.  I have nothing to give from myself.  But there's a guy who does, and his name is Jesus.  And he changed my heart once I was willing to walk into the great unknown.  

I began praying for surrender, that the Lord would take my heart and press his desires upon it.  And boy, he did.  Once I had come to an understanding that he was my destiny, things began to fall into place.  One thing after another happened, and on a rainy day in October I found myself with an intense desire to go to Kenya, Uganda and South Sudan.  I prayed that God would close these doors if they weren't the ones I was called to walk through; instead, he kept opening more.  My family struggled for months, and for a long time this adventure was the cause for many fights, confusion and pain.  It divided us, but the Holy Spirit kept whispering that he was about to, for lack of a better term, "do work."  

One by one, my family began to get used to the idea of Emma and me throwing ourselves into the Father's arms, letting him take us where we were supposed to go.  They began to like it, even, and wanted us to follow what we all finally knew to be desires from God.  It was a completely radical change of heart, a change that can only be explained by the powerful God of the universe having a quiet persistence in the heart of his beloved children.  

And now we're ready.  Tickets are booked, we leave in 48 days.  And it's scary, absolutely terrifying because we are still trying to comprehend the things that God has done for us, and all that he will ask us to do in his name.  

So, Mom and Dad, I want you to know that this is for you.  Thank you for  your blessing, and know that it is the most beautiful experience to say to the heavenly Father, "here is our daughter, we trust you with her life." 


"The Lord will fight for you, you need only be still."
Exodus 14:14

January 19th, 2013

This saturday afternoon has me thinking about one thing, and one thing only.  Doubt.  

Doubt can do so much damage.  Even though so many people have told us that they are praying for our trip, I still doubt.  Some days, I don't think that I can raise this money or that God is actually going to ask us to live out his Gospel.  
Some days I have so much fear inside me that I just want to curl up in a ball and pretend it isn't happening.  Most days, I'm scared.  But then, all it takes is one day, or one hour, or one moment when I can hear God speak to me through another person or through a song or through a feeling of peace.  All it takes is that one gift of faith to clean me up and dust me off and I'm right back in the game.  

When I think about this one life I have to live, most of the time it just makes my head hurt.  But sometimes I am graced with some clarity of thought and I remember who I am in the eyes of my God.  HE reminds me that it is not about surviving through this life.  No one can do that.  We will not live forever in this place, but our true home is more perfect than we can possibly imagine.  So why live safe?  Why be surrounded by a foam pit of comfort and man-made security while I am on this earth and deny God, the most loving father, His true desire to reveal Himself to us in spectacular ways that we can't explain?  What is intriguing about this world is that it is the only time in our eternal life that we cannot see the face of God clearly and we don't understand His wisdom or His ways.   This earth is the only time we live in darkness, and our only chance to find the joy in seeking light.  

So all you who fear, all you who are weary and who doubt that there is a God who loves you more than you know...come to the light.  Bring every imperfection, every jar of tears and every hope you have because there is a God who loves you so much that he died for you.  He fought off the enemy and he will fight for your soul because you, YOU, are more precious to Him than his own life.  That is love.  And it is for you.  

"The Lord will fight for you, you need only be still"
Exodus 14:14

I'm not normally going to be writing posts on here more than once a week, or even once a month, but today is an exception.  For the rest of my life, I don't think I will ever forget the night I heard Maya Angelou speak.  

All day there was a buzz about campus.  Texts were flying around, teachers were promoting the event and everyone was asking, "are you gonna see Maya tonight?"  And so I went.  We waited in the Holmes Convocation Center for an hour and a half with classmates, professors, community members and people who were driving in from out of town on this freezing tuesday evening to see one of the greatest poets of all time.  And boy, did she show up.  

Maya Angelou was raped by her mother's boyfriend when she was seven years old.  After she spoke up about it, he was sentenced to one day in jail, and then he was released.  The next day, he was found kicked to death on the street.  For six years after that Maya went mute.  She didn't speak because she thought her words brought death to people.  When she told us this, I almost couldn't stay in my chair because I wanted to walk, no I wanted to run up to her and say "your words bring life!" Even though there were thousands of people there, I felt like it was just Maya and me (in my world, we're on a first name basis) sitting in a little room in two armchairs next to a fire, and she was pouring out her soul in the most beautifully charismatic way.  For the hour she spoke, her words sank into my heart and I could see the little girl in her.  But this little girl wasn't weak or helpless.  No, she had a Lion Heart.  She had won the victory over fear and there was no man who could break her spirit or her body any more.  And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, she pulled out her journal.

"You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise. "  

On the last "I rise," this little old black woman in a wheelchair shot her fist up into the air and the crowd erupted.  The whole place was nuts and our collective joy couldn't be contained.  On this night, Maya was the most perfect depiction of restoration and revival that I have ever seen.  She was so beautiful to me.  And that 's when my stomach churned with a newfound understanding of what Dr. Martin Luther King meant when he said, "I have a dream."  

You see, Dr. King had no fear in his heart the day before he died.  If you watch his speech you can just tell that in that moment he had left this earth and he truly did not fear any man.  Dr. King's heart was too big, and his courage flooded the fearful minds of those who wanted to suppress him.  He didn't die because he was murdered.  He died because this earth, this temporary playground of confusion, couldn't contain his spirit any longer.  Dr. King gives me the freedom every day to dream that maybe, just maybe I will see a change in this world over my lifetime.  Maybe I know the next Mother Teresa or the next Mahatma Gandhi.  Maybe the little boy I sponsor will grow up to change his village and then his country.  Maybe I'll grow old and I'll never have to say "when I was young and hopeful about the world" because the world won't be able to suck the childlike spirit from my veins anymore.  

On this day after I have remembered Martin Luther King and listened to Maya speak truth into my life, I know for certain that there is a place in our spirit where fear does not exist.  I have seen courage incarnate in human flesh and I have prospered from the fruits of bold thinking and brave action by both Dr. King and Dr. Angelou and I know that our liberty is bound up together.  

Thank you, Dr. King and Dr. Angelou.  Because of your example, all of us will continue to dream and we will always RISE.