For Those Who Are Not Racist

This is not a post condemning nor excusing racists or racist behavior. If that's what you came here for, I want to save you from wasting your time and tell you to read no further.

This is specifically for people who are so non-discriminatory that they don't recognize their own privilege. White privilege. Male privilege. Adult privilege. Whatever it is that places you "above" another human being in society, whether intentional or not.

I thought I had avoided having to write on this topic. I thought I had shared enough posts and videos from other people that echoed my sentiments to where my stance was made clear without having to use my own words.

As God continues to mold me, I am coming to terms with the phrase I was wrong. I am also very sensitive to the promptings when I am called to be silent and when I am called to speak.

Scrolling through Facebook the past few weeks, as when anything racial or political drives social media interaction, I have seen many posts from people that have both surprised and hurt me. Particularly from other people who profess Christianity. I have been relatively silent. I have wrestled with removing people from my friend's list for the sake of preservation and keeping them with the prayer that my actions and the collective action of other Christ-followers will demonstrate that not everyone fits the stereotype they are arguing about.

Last year, I wrote this post about the Trayvon Martin verdict.  I still feel the same way today that I did when I wrote that, except maybe a little more disappointed because it has taken countless more deaths for any action to take place.

Christianity, the whole dagum thing, the message of the Gospel, is about grace. Grace. That is it. If you understand the concept of grace, you understand what Jesus Christ died for. 

Because much grace is given to me in my very sinful nature, I am required to extend much grace to others and God gives me ample opportunity to practice that.

Recently, I was having dinner with a group of people I love dearly. When asked about specific prayer requests I had for this season, one of mine was guidance and clarity on what my living situation will be for the additional three months I will now be staying in America after my lease is up in February.

As kind of a joke, one of the people I was dining with offered for me to stay in their guest bedroom and help watch their children. It was cute and could have been left there.

In the same joking tone, this person (who is white) continued by saying "If we had them call you Aunt Jemima would that help?"

I must stop here because I want every eye reading this to recognize that this person is not racist. This person is an incredibly talented leader, gifted communicator, theologically sound Christian and generally a fun person to be around. This is a person I respect immensely, and whose own story of redemption and restoration has given me much encouragement over the years. This person loves with one of the biggest hearts I've ever seen and I count it an honor to know him.

The thing is, in this day there are so many people who aren't racist that they have no idea the weight of their words to those who experience discrimination. There are so many people who don't see color that they make those of us who are full of color, essentially colorless.

In that moment, I had a choice to make. I could have chosen to be offended. It was well within my right. I could have chosen to speak on the topic immediately. Or I could  have chosen to continue the conversation. I chose the last option, succinctly saying "that definitely wouldn't help" and closing the gap in the air, though to know me is to know I had to work hard to regain immediate composure of my facial expressions.

I had a choice to make, and it was mine to make. I did not chose this out of fear, but out of grace. I looked at the factors -- we were in the middle of a restaurant and young children were also at the table -- and the circumstances and the history of my relationship with the person who said this. I honestly can tell you that I truly don't think he even knew what he said. You may have chosen to act differently. That's the beautiful thing about free will.

The thing about grace is it has nothing to do with me. I didn't extend grace because that person deserved it. I didn't extend it to be the bigger person, to be a "good Christian." I extended it because of the very fact that I don't deserve it, yet the Lord delivers it to me in abundance. I have had so much worse said and done to me. Yet the Lord says if we do not forgive, He will not forgive us (Matthew 6:15). And let me tell you, I need a whole lot of forgiveness. 

So because of what God has done for me, I can rest knowing He will handle the details. Resting doesn't remove the pain, resting doesn't numb the pain, resting just assures you that the pain will not always be there.

There's something else important about grace that needs to be said: grace doesn't excuse behavior. I have suffered many consequences for my sinful actions, in the midst of receiving grace. Grace doesn't say you get away with this, grace allows God to step in and fill the space with His truth. 

One of the messages I read from a Facebook friend illustrated just how much of the mark is being missed right now. She is a Christian, served our nation and currently teaches in a low-income high-need school. She is also white, but if anyone understood what is going on, I thought she would. Yet her statement regarding a picture of protesters holding up signs that said "Black Lives Matter" was that all lives matter, children should be taught respect and the issues would disappear.

A popular comedian tweeted recently, "Do people who change #BlackLivesMatter to #AllLivesMatter run thru a cancer fundraiser going "THERE ARE OTHER DISEASES TOO"

That's the point. All lives do matter. But the lives that are in black and brown bodies seem to have to scream a little louder to be heard. Work harder to receive the same credit. Go above and beyond to prove we are not a threat.

All lives do matter.

But the lives that are in female bodies have to dress a little more modest to avoid unwanted advances from males. I was wearing jeans and a crew neck t-shirt the first time I was attacked. What's your next suggestion? 

All lives do matter.

But the lives that you can't hold yet, even though they have hearts beating and limbs forming and brains developing, those lives that may be just an inconvenience, have to be sacrificed so you can live the life you planned before the consequence arrived.

All lives do matter.

But the lives that live in bodies that do things differently than I would, that don't practice things that I think they should, are pushed out of communities of love supposedly in the name of Christ.

You cannot say that all lives matter and not stand for every single one.

So the issue isn't which lives matter. 

The issue is how are you going to use yours.

How are you going to influence the lives that are under your care?

How are you going to stand up for the lives that matter?

Because that's every single one, whether you've experienced what they've been through or not.

The biggest piece of advice I have is to follow Scripture directly.

Do not tell those who are weeping how to weep, do not tell those who are mourning their time is up, do not think of yourself as any different than your neighbor, but love them harder than you've ever loved before recognizing that you are indeed different and that is good.

"Don't just pretend to love others.

Really love them.

Hate what is wrong.

Hold tightly to what is good.

Love each other with genuine affection, 

and take delight in honoring each other...

When God's people are in need, be ready to help them. 

Always be eager to practice hospitality. 

Bless those who persecute you.

Don't curse them; pray that God will bless them.

Be happy with those who are happy and weep with those who weep.

Live in harmony with each other. 

Don't be too proud to enjoy the company of ordinary people.

And don't think you know it all!

Never pay back evil with more evil.

Do things in such a way that everyone can see you are honorable.

Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone."

Romans 12:9-10, 13-18 (NLT, emphasis added)

"I have come that they may have life,

and have it to the full."

John 10:10b

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Clean or Caught?

As I type this, I am sitting at a coffee shop breaking up 6 hours of driving. 

And I desperately need this break, as this morning after a chaotic work situation and having only been on the road for about 30 minutes, I got my second speeding ticket in 5 days. Don't even start.

I travel regularly. No stranger to taking a road trip, and commuting anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour and a half each day for my job, I am always in the car and I haven't received so much as a warning. Until this week.

When I was pulled Monday after another six hours of driving and I was a mere 5 minutes from the hotel, I was angry, but I was determined not to let it ruin my day. I thanked the officer for reducing my penalty (yes, it was that bad), and resolved to eat out a little less and work at my part-time a little more this next month.

The rest of the week was smooth sailing, for the most part. And then today happened. When I saw the lights behind me this morning, I can assure you that the words in my mind were not any that I will be teaching my students in Peru next year. Aloud, I only screamed "you've got to be kidding me!" so we'll go with that one for this post.

Aside from the fact that no one is getting Christmas gifts this year (for real), I was reminded of several things in the hours to follow as I continued my trek.

One of those reminders smacked me right in the face as I just wrote about it yesterday. I shared about my wonderful breakfast with 92 years of awesome wrapped up in a graceful little lady, and just that quickly I forgot what I learned. Or maybe I didn't quite forget, but I compartmentalized that lesson as I tend to do a lot of things in life.

I talked about being intentional. Being present. Finding beauty.

And this morning I was so concerned with getting to my next destination that God allowed another interruption to force me, literally, to stop, re-evaluate and rearrange.

Slowing down in life is one of my most difficult challenges right now. 

Sure, God has done a tremendous work in my heart. I no longer spend my days daydreaming of being a wife and mother and trying to figure out how to make the most of my life until that happens. I no longer identify myself as being in a season of waiting, in that regard. I am excited to offer God whatever He wants in my life right here and right now, not just until the next milestone. I am creating my own milestones.

But I'm still rushing through the days. Instead of taking in the scenery and enjoying the ride, I just wanted to get to where I was going.

That wasn't all I realized, though. The Spirit also revealed something very sobering to me.

I wasn't mad that I got pulled over...a second time. I wasn't mad that I got yet another ticket. I wasn't even mad at myself for speeding just days after I had gotten that first ticket. 

I realized, as the tears burned my cheeks, that I was mad because I got caught. 

I got caught speeding. 

Caught. 

I've had a clean driving record, with the exception of one infraction, since I've been driving. But my record wasn't clean because I haven't been speeding all these years, my record was clean because I hadn't gotten caught.

I have put over 108,000 miles on my car in 5 short years and my guess is that about 107,864 of those miles I was speeding. I speed all the time. In fact, if there's no one in front of me, something in my brain triggers subconsciously to go find my traffic buddies. It's a problem. I need help.

So as I begged God to do whatever He would to intervene as the trooper took what seemed like forever to pull my information, I also recognized and admitted that this consequence was long overdue. I couldn't be upset with anyone but myself, and even in that God brought to mind other ways He's been protecting me but I have had to make the choice to cease destructive behavior before severe consequences set in.

I am not a mother yet because it is not time for me to be. I believe that will full conviction because, just like my clean driving record was not due to lack of speeding, my empty womb did not come from lack of putting myself in situations where babies are normally born less than a year later.

As mentioned in previous posts, presently my body does not provide an adequate environment for life to develop. Fancy words for I can't get pregnant. Between cancerous cells on my cervix that have to be regularly monitored and painful cysts that develop on my ovaries and can only be controlled by the hormones found in daily birth control pills, I physically cannot get pregnant. 

I don't rest in this diagnosis that seems to scream defeat, though. God has placed a promise in my heart and confirmed it many times through many people that I will be a mother when it is time in His plan for that to happen. I don't know if my children will be biological or adopted or both, and I don't need to know. They're mine and I love them already. 

But that's a post for another day. The point of sharing that is to say that I have not lived a life of purity, I just never got caught. I was not a virgin at the time of my sexual assault, but I sure did not spend the years following that traumatic event seeking redemption or clean living.

Even now, this same challenge creeps into my life. My frustration with someone can far too easily turn into a text message to a friend about how ridiculous and maddening that person can be. Because my friends are kind enough not to expose me to the world by posting my angry messages online for all to see, here's another snippet from the episode of Clean or Caught. 

*Though some of you reading this post do have full permission to post some of my jokes so everyone can know how hilarious I can be. But I need you to post them because if I do, it will ruin the illusion of humility. (Not everyone's going to get that one....it's ok).
Anyway, I'm not proud of these things but I'm so thankful God loves us enough to open our eyes and, if were willing to let Him, work in our hearts.

We all need self-reflection. I don't share everything with everyone, but I do try to remain transparent in all arenas. As Christ-followers, we need to stop playing the role of the victim. Some things happen to us, some things we cause, and some things happen to us because of other things that we have caused. But if we look at the blessings God is giving us in the midst of either, I'm convinced we can all learn lessons that will serve us well the rest of our lives. 

We need to be "Christian" enough to call sin, sin.

Our culture views sin as that which hurts us, not that which hurts God. 

Someone spoke negatively about us? Sin. 

Smoking? Sin.

Abortion? Sin. 

Homosexuality? Sin. 

But my pride preventing me from being the bigger person even if (and especially when) I think I'm justified? Oh, that's just something I'm working on. 

And that murderous thought I had about that person who hurt my loved one? Well, it's not like I actually did anything. 

Bull. That's sin. Clear as day. 

And yes, God works on us. So glad He doesn't give us what we truly deserve. 

And yes, it's a daily struggle. But we have to keep going to the throne and we also have to extend the same grace we expect to receive. 

This post is not about following God and doing the right thing so that we don't get caught doing the wrong thing. That is such a sad way to view our relationship with the Lord and that will make for a miserable life. Not one that exemplifies the richness in the blessings a Christ-follower receives just by remembering they are loved by our Father.

I want this to post to be a reminder that we are to be obedient because it makes our Father happy and it is what's best for us. Life is hard. There are temptations. But the gift we have in knowing that Jesus was fully man and walked this Earth and experience every single temptation that you and I struggle with is a gift that allows us to know 100% that we are fully known and fully understood.

I also want this post to be reminder that even when we mess up, God always provides a way out. Always. It may not be the way we would choose and it may be more expensive than other options, but repenting of our sins and asking for forgiveness also means accepting responsibility for our wrongdoings and most importantly, learning from that experience rather than staying in sin.

In the next 24 hours I have more driving to do. I have a worship experience, a baby shower, a wedding and a birthday celebration and all four events are in four different cities. 

If I've learned anything this week it's that rushing sets you back. So I'm going to make the choice to set a limit and then put my car on cruise control and trust my system not to fail me.

And then I'm going to do the same for my life: make the choice to set limits and then put my life on cruise control, trusting God not to fail me.

He hasn't yet.

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Finding Blessing in the Busy

"Whatever you do becomes a part of you."

-My 92-year young hero

This may look like a simple breakfast to you, but to me it was an exquisite dining experience. This meal was prepared by my 92 year-old former neighbor who filled me with food for my body and wisdom for my soul this morning. 

This week, I happen to be working in the town right next to the one I grew up in, and as God would have it, I'm teaching at night due to some constraints around the clinic and the patients who still need treatment, so that leaves my mornings free.

I've been able to rest in nostalgia this week and visit many neighbors (who were already aging when I was a child, so I'm beyond grateful to glean from them as an adult) and former coworkers of my parents. As I have not been back since my mother's stroke (3.5 years ago), it has been a rich week.

Yesterday, I stopped by the home of one of my favorites and since she was on the tail-end of my visits before work, I was only able to spend about 30 minutes with her. I promised I'd be back the next day (today) and she insisted on cooking me breakfast. Anyone who knows this pillar of the community knows you don't argue with her, so I obliged and left already excited for my return.

So this morning we shared a meal and many memories. She recalled how she would look out of her window when I was a child and was tickled over the sight of me and her brother (who has since passed) working on our garden together. She's the youngest of her living siblings, with two sisters who are 95 and 100, and with full faculties all those years of life spill over in conversation.

As the hours passed and I heard of all of her travels around the world and challenges being a hardworking, educated black woman when all that was expected of our race and gender was to be a cook and a caretaker for wealthy families, I realized that none of her stories really went together but they all flowed right into one another. And they all had one central theme: love people.

Every job she ever held was in a position of service. As the first black LPN offered a job at the hospital in this town, she never allowed the limits other people placed upon her to stop her. She won people over with her love, and allowed them to recognize her worth through her work ethic.

She was a missionary before people in our community ever even heard the word.

And if ever there was someone on earth I would like to emulate, it is she.

As I sat and listened, I realized the intentionality behind everything that she did and recognized that I want to go about life with that same intentionality. 

She shrugs off what she can't change in the most endearing manner, and gives every single thing -- good, bad, and otherwise -- over to God.

In this season of in-between where I am desperately trying to figure out how best to be fully present in the "where I am" and also preparing to leave everything I know for everything God has for me, I'm starting to view each task in this "busy" schedule of mine as divine appointments.

Rather than anxiety setting in when I look at my schedule and think of all I "have" to do and bouncing from event to event with a tired face and a tired soul, I am choosing to soak in the wisdom that comes with each whatever.

Listening to the pain of a friend and being excited that I get to pray with her through that. Taking an opportunity to spend time with people I haven't seen in years even though all I want to do is lay in bed and work. Trying something new with someone who is the same.

Work is work. I can't change that and it's always going to be there. So instead of letting it drain my energy during the day, I am choosing to create my own energy in the excitement of spending time with people God has seen fit to bless me with relationship.

Because that's what life is.

Things are cool. But people are so much better.

Adventures are nice. But sharing them with people is love.

This morning tears flowed, laughter erupted, and my soul nearly burst.

I wish I could share with you all how many ways The Lord has shown up over the past two weeks, but that's a little too personal for the internet, at least for now. Just know that He answers prayers in the most abundant ways and grateful is an inadequate term to express my sentiments because He does not have to, yet chooses to bless us in our sinfulness. He has given me peace, restored my hope and given me promises for my future family. He has taken care of details I didn't trust Him with, and through those reminded me there is truly nothing too big or too small to lay at the throne.

I may not be able to share those, yet, but I am able to share this. God knew exactly what I needed, and He knew I would need it this week as I stepped out of two harrowing weeks and as I return to Charlotte to step right back into the blur.

I don't have much time today, but I will leave you with this quote from my 92-year young hero:

"Life is beautiful. But you have to make it beautiful. And see the beauty. And remember God is right next to you." 

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...but the Lord's purpose prevails

I typically wake up once or twice before 5:30 rolls around, so it was no surprise when it happened during the first night of my two-week training at SIMGo, but it was quite different. 

When I rolled over to check the time and counted the cost of trying to navigate through the darkness and around unfamiliar furniture to go to the bathroom without waking the other two people sharing this room, the sobering reality of “I am not in my home, I am not in my bed and in a few months I will feel this same way every single night until I don’t anymore” punched me right in the gut.

I had been so excited for orientation because, as I’ve told many of you, I was finally excited to have undivided attention focused just on missions, as I'm getting closer to my departure and partnering with God and trusting Him with the dreams I’m leaving behind and fears I’m pushing through.

The dream of getting married like all my friends.
Welcoming babies into this world.
Attached to the fear of never being chosen to be a wife or mother.

I can’t tell you why so much of my identity is wrapped up in this but in all transparency it is an ongoing struggle for me.

I know my identity is in Christ as His beloved daughter, and because of this I try to tell those irrational fears to hush. I try to remind myself that my fiercest dreams pale in comparison to God’s magnificent plan.

I have finally settled in my heart that my identity is no longer attached to what I have done and who I once was, but it is hard for me to accept a new identity in what is wildly unknown.

So for now, while making so many preparations for my future, I must rest in the gift of today.

In my Life Group we are currently reading Girls with Swords by Lisa Bevere and Friday we discussed our “befores” in light of the following passages:

“Before there was an adversary, a garden, a man, a woman, a serpent, there was an answer. Before there was a war, there was a victory. Before there was even the concept of a game, the Cross was the game-changing agent. The Cross was the means that facilitated the purpose for which Jesus was born….He made a way for us before we lost ours….God covered us before we realized we were naked and made us whole before we knew we were broken."

“The Cross was your hope even before you realized you were hopeless, the answer before you realized there was a problem. The Cross symbolizes God’s faithfulness while it expresses his faith in us. Through the Cross we are equipped to walk in him."

I shared with the group that my before was “God had a plan for me before I knew my purpose.”

Before I knew what today would look like, I thought I was moving to Charlotte on my own volition to study and enter a career of Sports Medicine (8 “short” years ago).

Before I knew I would reach out to women who have suffered unimaginable adversities, I went through years of abuse myself.

Before I knew I would be sharing how no matter what circumstance you are in you can always turn to God, I turned to alcohol and promiscuity to fill my voids.

Before I knew what a relationship with Christ could look like, I felt unworthy to come to the Cross.

Before I understood how faith can carry you through the toughest trials, I had a pastor who believed in me enough to put me in a leadership position over a ministry.

Before I knew God was birthing a passion for missions in me, I lead two trips overseas to share the Gospel with high school students.

Before I recognized God was changing my entire life, I thought He was just changing my place of employment and local mission field.

Before I realized God was preparing me for the next step, I took what I felt was three steps back (in quitting three different jobs).

Before I knew why I ended up at a new church, God lead me with my now ex-boyfriend to worship together before our lives would part.

Before I realized the lives I invested in would come back full circle and support me in this calling, I went on another short-term trip and shared how God increased my capacity to love those whom I have not yet met.

Before any of us were born, God knew us and had a plan for us. 

There have been so many steps I have taken that are the complete opposite direction of the path God has created for me, but He has been more than gracious to re-direct me each time, teaching me along the way.

And as I have said many times before, God wastes nothing.

This is why obedience is no longer an option for me. Before I knew my purpose, God had a plan. Rather than asking Him to bless my plans, I am excited to align with HIs.

What is your before?

“The Lord gave me this message: 

‘I knew you before I formed you in your mother’s womb.

Before you were born I set you apart

and appointed you as my prophet to the nations.’

‘O Sovereign Lord,’ I said, ‘I can’t speak for you! I’m too young!’

The Lord replied, ‘Don’t say, ‘I’m too young,’ for you must go where I send you and say whatever I tell you.

And don’t be afraid of the people, for I will be with you and will protect you.

I, the Lord, have spoken!’

Then the Lord reached out and touched my mouth and said,

‘Look, I have put my words in your mouth!

Today I appoint you to stand up

against nations and kingdoms.

Some you must uproot and tear down,

destroy and overthrow.

Others you must build up and plant.’”

Jeremiah 1:4-10

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When the Rains Come and the Grace Runs Out

You know those days that go so terribly awry that you’re afraid to even wonder how bad it would have been if you hadn’t started your day praising God?

Holler at me if you’re not sure what I’m talking about and I’ll share a bit of my day with you in another conversation.

On this blog, though, I’ll spare the details and just say that though the enemy is busy, I am thankful my God is even busier, and that He is the one who wears the victor’s crown.

This morning started off with an internal battle about whether it’s time to jump on the treadmill again for my workouts or if I can squeeze a few more mornings outside.

Hate is a very strong word and I really try not to use it. Sometimes in anger….and many times today, in fact….that word has slipped out. Better than some other four-letter words I’ve used though, right?

Anyhow, I HATE the treadmill. Like, despise it. It is my absolute last resort in running and in fact, I have gone whole seasons of not exercising just because I didn’t want to get on the treadmill. 

Give me fresh air. 

Give me space. 

Give me sunshine.

At the very least, give me a place where muscleheads aren’t staring at themselves in the mirror and grunting while I’m trying to get a few miles in for cardio.

This is why I still run the road even though we’re getting to the time of year when it is still dark at 6am. 

My debates in the mornings between myself and my more dramatic self usually entail me counting the costs of using a highly advanced piece of machinery in a nice air-conditioned fitness center or running through tall grass next to a wooded area that is assuredly ridden with predators (which are probably just deer, but I honestly have seen a fox or two…or at least the same fox twice) making me a prime target for someone or something to attack. 

And since there are no street lights on my favorite path, of course I start thinking about if I am indeed attacked and lying wounded on the sidewalk, what happens if I roll into the fairly busy street and a car runs over me or even worse, I fall over the side of the overpass and land on 485, with more than some scrapes and bruises but more devastatingly…a shattered phone.

Well about 10 minutes into this debate this morning -- and yes, it really took that long -- I realized I was wasting precious time and I needed to just get up and go. Unfortunately, about a half-mile into my run, the voice of my more dramatic self began to gloat because though she lost the debate before I left home, she was right on the money this time. It was way too dark and completely unsafe so I turned around and headed back home, annoyed because I would now be reduced to running circles in my apartment complex.

Turns out, that was a great decision because as I continued my loops, it began drizzling pretty heavily. I was thankful that I was closer to home than I would normally be at this point in my workout, but I was determined to finish at least another mile before getting ready for work. And at the very moment the rain picked up, lyrics to the song I was running to hit me like no other.

Can you feel the grace

Pouring down like rain

It’s almost too good to believe it

It overwhelms the shame

It’s effortless change

Now can we just receive it

It was one of those moments you imagine being in a movie. As I cried out to God, grateful for the grace I have never deserved but have been so freely given, I prayed He would continue to drown me in it day after day. Whether it was a drizzle or a downpour, I prayed for the grace to come.

Little did I know that the next few hours my grace would dry up quickly. But as I left for lunch, and to clear my head, the gray skies gave me yet another reminder that though my grace may dry up, I only have to look to the Lord for more rain. 

There’s only one thing I have to do and that is run to Him.

In a place of utter frustration and extreme confusion, I can rest knowing that our Father will never give us too much or too little…but exactly what we need, when we need it.

And my prayers turned to me begging God to always remain in a place open to correction, to never have a heart hardened towards those who lovingly point out my blind spots. 

I need the grace to hear what others are saying more than I want them to hear what I am saying. 

I need the grace that forgives, yes, but that reminds that I have been forgiven. 

I need the grace that is never satisfied with staying stagnant, but is always pushing forward. The grace that never wants to leave anyone behind. 

I need the grace that only our Father provides, and from which only we can extend to others.

I needed that grace before my day started. I didn't have enough to last me the whole day, but I have a God who was waiting, ready to give me more.

All I had to do was run to Him.

Only grace can mend and make me whole

Only grace can restore my soul

But you can’t earn the grace that took your place

And the blood that speaks for you

Only grace

Only grace can do that

Only Grace, Dara Maclean

"So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God.

There we will receive his mercy,

and we will find grace to help us when we need it most."

Hebrews 4:16 (NLT)

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Why Missions?

Since I first began this journey towards full-time mission work, I have had a lot of questions because many people don't quite understand what I'll be doing or why I'll be doing it. 

The one I want to answer today is one that has been asked more times than I can count, all from people who believe in God, particularly when they learn I have to raise all of my support before departure:

"Why not the Peace Corps, Americorps, or some other alternative?"

I hope my answer does not sound trite, but there is no other way to say it: I was not called to be a part of those.

Those, along with many other government-funded and non-profit organizations, are absolutely wonderful. They teach the volunteers involved more than they could dream to learn, they build up the communities and the very humanitarian efforts that bring development to countries are a gift, to say the least.

But there is one integral factor missing from those organizations and if you've ever had more than a 3-minute conversation with me or read a single thing I've ever written you know what that factor is....Who that factor is.

I am not quitting my job because I am bored. 

I am not moving half-way across the world because I'm looking for adventure.

I am answering what God called me to do, for no other reason than because He called me to do it.

Doing something that I was not called to do, just because it seems like a great idea, is the very definition of disobedience...even if that thing produces amazing results.

I'm not in this for amazing results.

I'm in this for God's results.

I'm in this to see women freed.



I may not get to see some of them walk through the doors of the prisons back into the world, but if they are able to walk from this life to the next and their destination is Heaven's gates, well there's nothing else I would rather do.

I have been abused. 

I have suffered depression.

I've been made to do things that I never wanted to do.

After that, I chose to do things I didn't need to do.

But I was freed.

Our God wastes nothing. 

God is increasing my love for these women I haven't even met yet by putting me in very common situations from day to day and breaking my heart for those who are right in front me. 

Though I have never been imprisoned myself, I created my own prison in depression. 

It wasn't until I fully gave control over to God that I was set free, and it is His name I will make known.

It is His love I will express. 

It is His truth I will share.

It is He for whom I am going. 

"For You, Lord, rescued me from death,

my eyes from tears,

my feet from stumbling.

I will walk before the Lord

in the land of the living. 

I believed, even when I said,

'I am severely afflicted.'

In my alarm I said,

'Everyone is a liar.'

How can I repay the Lord for all the good He has done for me?

I will take the cup of salvation

and call on the name of Yahweh.

I will fulfill my vows to the Lord

in the presence of all His people."

Psalms 116: 8-14 (HCSB)

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Because of Stories

Stories are so important. They are the fabric with which we weave our relationships with others. They either help us connect, or tear us apart.

You may not feel like your story is important enough to share, but I can guarantee that God puts people in our lives to hear parts of ours and people from whom we draw encouragement by hearing theirs.

God uses our stories to teach us lessons. God uses our stories to heal us. And if we’re willing to share, He will use them to help others. 

Another beautiful thing that happens when we share our stories is the enemy is stifled. When we proclaim the goodness of our Savior and share the details of what He has done in our lives, when we stand face to face with our past abuse or failures, satan has to run because shame no longer hinders us.

Over and over the Lord demonstrates His faithfulness and it would be a sin to keep quiet about it.

This past week, I had the blessed opportunity to connect with several people I hadn’t seen in far too long due to the distractions of life.

Sunday afternoon I was packing for my week away for work and I happened to comment on a friend’s Facebook page (because doing laundry always needs a distraction). This is a friend I have always admired for the grace with which she handles the chaos of life and her sheer display of love in every situation. She responded to my simple comment by inviting me to dinner that very night with her family (as in dinner was in 30 minutes, the exact amount of time it would take me to drive to her house), and because I didn’t see her post she didn’t leave anything to chance and immediately called me to confirm, because that’s the kind of friend she is. I hadn’t seen her in almost two years (save a baby shower and running into each during the transition between services when visiting my old church), and I was elated.

That night was real. Among tears and excitement, mini-tantrums and the most loving hugs, her children shared with me the things that mattered to them most, whether it was their favorite vegetable from their garden, or their “food stand” they set up day after day in their living room -- a food stand which their baby brother may just destroy each and every chance he gets. They shared jokes and riddles, a few of which I had to draw from their parents on how to answer, because when the first response that pops into your head is “suicide” you tend to not want to give that answer to a group of kids aged 4-11 years. They danced and sang and they were teeming with joy, none of them realizing that what they were sharing with me was magical.

And then when it was bedtime, the adults shared. We shared how God is working in our lives, how He brought us from places we never expected to leave and over the years brought us to places we never expected to be. We shared the things we are struggling with, the sins we can’t get past, the fears we are unrighteously gripping and the control we are giving over to our Father because we simply don’t know what is coming next.
She gave me encouragement that I didn’t even know I needed and again, it was magical. 

Had I remained so wrapped up in my plans to pack and clean, I would have missed out on a beautiful evening with a fun group of kids and wisdom you can’t get from Facebook statuses and Twitter updates. Wisdom that only comes from sharing real and raw stories. Wisdom that cuts to the core and challenges me to reflect on what I believe and why I believe it.

And then Tuesday, I got to have dinner with two women who have indescribable roles in my life. We are cousins by birth, but sisters by all other accounts. We talk multiple times a week, but we don’t get to see each other that often and dinner with them was an absolute treat. And after we caught up on the regular goings-on of work, relationships, and family drama, one of my sisters reminded me of why I look up to them so much.

She went into the details of an illness that was intended for her harm, but from which God has brought so much good. She shared her lowest lows, and how the word of God and the faith of her family brought her through those times. She reminded me of how precious and powerful just opening the sacred text is. She epitomized strength. She also affirmed something my friend and I discussed on Sunday, that not every person needs to know every part of your story, and you don’t have to apologize for not sharing with those who are not safe.

She didn’t have to share any of that, but she chose to. She was intentional about giving me a piece of her that would bring us closer.

Wednesday at work, I shared with one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met about my plans for going to Peru. I haven’t hidden it from anyone with whom I work, but I don’t necessarily broadcast it since my departure is still quite far. We talked about my struggles regarding relationships and marriage and children and she reminded me by sharing the story of her own marriage that what God has intended for us can only be at its best when we follow Him. There will be things that happen that we cannot explain, but they serve to prepare us for the next season and if we don’t go through them, we cannot thrive.

Thursday morning, I met with a sweet friend for breakfast and shared with her what my co-worker said and little did I know that was what she needed to hear, too.

Thursday night, I got to spend time with a kindred spirit I met three years ago and have never had a doubt that we were separated at birth. Though different cultures and circumstances, our family situations are nearly identical and the way we process is pretty much the same, too. She is my future maid (probably matron at that point) of honor and godmother to my children. She is a constant source of encouragement and her authenticity is unmatched. And if I even began to tell you how our stories intertwined, I’d have three chapters of a book here.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about the importance of having a corner, especially for those of us who are introverts and would rather sit on the couch after work with a Summer Shandy writing a blog post than be in a room full of even our most beloved friends and family.

The thing is, you’re not always going to be prompted to share your story in the safety of that corner. Sometimes we are called to share to others outside of the box and we may not know why.

Sometimes we don’t plan to share our stories but the Spirit moves us to. Sometimes we plan to and God tells us the time isn’t quite right.

In whichever situation you find yourself, be sensitive to what God is saying.

If you hear Him say speak, don’t let anyone silence you.

If you hear Him say be quiet, don’t force the conversation.

Be intentional. You never know what part of your story someone needs to hear. 

I am so grateful for all of you who keep sharing your stories with me.

And that is why I will keep sharing mine.


If you would like to keep up with me during my adventures in Peru, please feel free to bookmark my new site, Let the Heavens Open, and/or join the mailing list to get those posts directly in your inbox.


I will still be sharing my story on this blog, but that site will be exclusively related to my mission work in Lima.

Additionally, if you would like to join my prayer team, please let me know by sending me your email via whichever method is suitable for you (comment here, Facebook, text, etc.).

I am beginning to create my newsletter and support teams, and I would love for any and all who desire to follow what God is doing through this season to be a part of my story!

"Pray at all times

in the Spirit with every prayer and request,

and stay alert in this

with all perseverance and intercession

for all the saints.

Pray also for me, 

that the message may be given to me

when I open my mouth 

to make known with boldness

the mystery of the Gospel.

For this I am an ambassador in chains.

Pray that I might be bold enough in Him

to speak as I should."

Ephesians 6:18-20 (HCSB)

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We All Need a Corner

I am an introvert. 

Anyone who knows me, knows this, and they laugh at people who think otherwise.

Before we move any further, let me first dispel the myth that introverts have to be quiet and reserved, shy or ill-fitting in social situations. There is nothing wrong with having any of those characteristics, but as I've said before: dainty and delicate don't really live around here.

I am loud. Very loud. Sometimes I don't even recognize how my voice carries in a normal conversation. 

The only thing reserved in this life is tables at restaurants, because your girl likes to grub. I share my opinion way too frequently and that is something I've been working on, but haven't quite arrived. 

Having never met a stranger, I am the polar opposite of shy. I hugged the director of my department during our first meeting. I hug other people's friends and family when we meet rather than the socially appropriate act of shaking hands. (Hands are dirty anyway. At least hugs are cozy.) People will tell me their life story in the grocery store aisle because I "just have one of those faces."

But I am still an introvert. I draw my energy from being alone. I love being in a crowd, I thrive in social settings, but I need space to rejuvenate and silence to appreciate the process. If I don't get that space and I am forced to interact longer than mentally or emotionally capable...well, you may wish we were strangers.

I don't like ice breakers. At all. Ever. Some of my friends from missionary orientation in May shared at dinner this past Sunday that they played a game with some of the other appointees at training this week and immediately locked eyes and said "Brittany would hate this." You better know it. 

Many people are shocked when I tell them I am an introvert, but not only do I possess many of the characteristics but I also tip the scale based on Myers-Briggs and other personality assessments.

It's not that I don't like being around others. I just really enjoy being by myself.

The thing I'm learning, though, is that we need others to support us. We need community. We were never supposed to walk this journey called life alone. 

By not joining a community you are not being self-reliant, you are not being independent, you are being a coward. And I say this because I've been there. I'm calling out those of us who are cowards because it does not take any faith to depend on yourself. It takes faith to depend on others, to be vulnerable and risk getting hurt but much more to "risk" feeling true love. It takes faith to depend on God and to accept the people that He has put in your life.

You see, God allows people to enter and exit our lives like the ebb and flow of a tide at the beach. It is up to us whether we accept those people for the purposes God has orchestrated and let them leave when our season has come to a close. It is also up to us if we shut those people out when God is blessing us with their friendship, or if we cling to the presence of those who should be long gone.

It's all about the choices we make.

If you've visited my church even once, you'll hear a phrase that is constantly in our speech: we're better together.

And it is so true.

In fact, just a few days ago our pastor posted an Instagram photograph of a lion with this caption beneath to express this sentiment:

"A lion used to prowl about a field where 4 oxen lived. Many a time the lion tried to attack them but whenever he came near, the oxen would turn tail to tail so whichever way [the lion] approached he was met with the horns of one. At last however, they fell in arguing, complaining and offense. Each went to his own pasture in a separate corner of the field. The lion attacked them one by one and soon all four were devoured." Aesop, 6th century BC

I have said it many times before, but I am forever grateful for my corner.

I am grateful for the friends who are in the seasons of life one or two (or eight or fourteen) steps ahead of me, who gift me with wisdom with which I don't even know what to do yet.

I am grateful for the friends who are in the seasons of life one or two steps in my past, who remind me how sweet and precious each day is.

I am grateful for the friends who may not have been through the same experiences I have, but they love me all the same and they cherish God's grace and mercy.

Tonight, I want to share how grateful I am for the friends that are going through the same things I am. Grateful for their openness in sharing their struggles, their excitement as we celebrate milestones, and their faithfulness in this call to missions.

I have the most amazing support system. Really, a blessing I surely don't deserve. But one of the biggest struggles in this season is that as much support as I have, no one truly understands what I am going through.

Leaving my life as I know it. The uncertainty behind the decisions as I solidify a timeline. Dating. What the? Explaining this passion to my family. Being in the prime of my life and giving it all away. The anticipation that gets overshadowed by loneliness and then sideswiped by an overwhelming list of tasks to complete. 

But God.

God gives us community. 

A few weeks ago, I shared the following with my best friend one night and my Charlotte mama the next, when asked the same question: "So, how do you really feel?"

My response: I really feel......like a pregnant woman. 

Having never been pregnant, I can only speculate, but in these days where the initial excitement from the "announcement" has worn off, and every day I answer the same questions because they are coming from different people who don't know how many times I've sang my song, sometimes I'm just tired. 

Though excitement doesn't even begin to describe how I am for the "birth" of this opportunity, and I can't wait to meet my "baby" (i.e. land in Peru), with the counseling sessions and the tracking databases, and the newsletter creations, and the book requirements, and trying to manage all of that while maintaining life as it still is here because I haven't actually left yet.....well, I just feel bloated, with acid reflux and cankles and I can't sleep at night because I can't get in a good position in bed. 

Then there is the "labor and delivery" of moving to another continent and getting accustomed to a new culture and working through the homesickness that I can't even think about yet because I haven't even packed my bag!

But of course, even in the sleepless nights, I thank God for what He has created. For the opportunity that He has given me. This opportunity that is so unique to anything I have ever done, that He could have chosen anyone else for, yet He invited me. And I thank Him endlessly.

And He keeps blessing me. Like on Sunday. This past Sunday, I was able to visit with two beautiful friends who are participating in the two-week training that I will be doing in October.

Finally, I felt understood. These ladies, also in their twenties, also single, also from loving, Christian families who had a hard time understanding their decision, these ladies were answers to prayers. 

And as much as I wanted to just go home after serving at church....because I'm an introvert.....I much more craved the connection with them and I am so grateful God placed them in my life to hear His truth, and His love and His confirmations over and over again. 

We are not in this alone. 

I don't have any great philosophical ending. I was going to add something charging everyone who reads this post to find a community and get ROOTED and I still pray that you do that. 

But tonight I just want to thank all who are in my corner. I am praying for you. Thank you for continuously praying for me.

"For where two or three are gathered

together in My name,

I am there among them."

Matthew 18:20 (HCSB)

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