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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Don't Take the Service Elevator

Most weeks I don't necessarily need a celebration for Friday, but this one threw me through the ringer. I thought it would never end. I've been mentally and physically exhausted, so though my weekend brings no reprieve from activity, when I say I was more than excited about Friday arriving, just know there was an extra three or four peps in my step.

It was one of my late mornings and I wasn’t traveling, so I didn’t have to be at work until 8am. I stroll through the double doors at 7:55, with my coffee thermos nestled in the crook of my left arm and water bottle in my left hand, rolling my workbag with my right, and ready to get this day over. So I thought.

I arrive at adjacent elevators right as the doors to both are closing. “Here we go,” I sighed, knowing I would have to wait for the elevator to stop on every……single……floor before making its way back down to the lobby.

As I waited "patiently," a young guy who works for another company in my building pressed the button to the service elevator and hopped on. He saw my confused face, and responded with “I always use this! It’s so much faster.”

Of course, I joined him. Wait for these other boxes? Ain’t nobody got time for that.

He promptly hit the button for his floor and then I asked for him to press the button for mine, as we made 13 seconds of small talk about the weather and the parking lot. He got off when it was his time and I rode to my floor, excited about this little secret I would get to share with my team.

Except…when I got to my floor the elevator wouldn’t open.

Let me retract that statement. The doors behind me opened, leading to some nondescript hallway I didn't dare explore. But the doors in front of me, the doors I needed to lead me into my office, wouldn't budge.

7th floor button. 7th floor button. 7th floor button.

Oh crap. (And I did not say “oh crap.”)

Open Door button. Open Door button. Open Door button.

Nada.

Crap. Crap. CRAP.

Do. Not. PANIC.

And then it hit me: just go back to where you started.

So in a moment where Jesus saved me from myself (because the drama was getting real, y'all), I pressed the button for the lobby and as I whipped my laptop bag out into the atrium, I met eyes with a very confused coworker, waiting to hear exactly what was going on. As I explained the scenario, she laughed and said “Girl, all you had to do was use your fob, if you have security access.”

Oh, that was it, huh?

There were two vital factors missing from making this a successful “shortcut.”

First, I had to know that my fob would allow me access to my floor from that particular elevator and to know to look for the pad on which I would swipe it.

Second, I had to have been previously granted the security clearance to even get off that elevator. Normally, when I take the elevators designated for my floor, I just have to swipe my badge to get into the locked doors, not to actually get out of the moving box.

Both pieces were integral, both very simple, but I had neither.

You see, what works for that young man every day did not work for me.

And that, I realized, was because we were going to two different places.

Where does God have you going that the person whose journey you're trying to follow will not lead?

What pieces are you missing that are holding you up on the route you chose, the route that is different from what God has for you?

It has been a hard lesson to learn the last year or so that my journey is not going to look like my sister’s, my best friend’s, my mentor’s, or anyone else’s journey. Nor should it.

But the more I fall into the comparison trap of “why can’t I __________” and “why hasn’t God _________,” the less I am able to focus on “but God saved me from _____” and “He’s preparing me for _______.”

Luckily for us, just because we don’t do things God's way the first time doesn’t mean we will never get to the destination He has purposed for us.

BBC (Before Brittany’s Coffee) Lesson Number 1: Stop rushing. Whether you’re rushing God, rushing other people or rushing yourself…the outcome is rarely, if ever, positive. And more often than not, you’ll have to go back to the beginning to get on the right path.

BBC Lesson Number 2: Stop thinking other people’s journeys will get you to your destination. Had I been going to the 3rd floor, I could have ridden with that nice young gentleman and called it a day. But I wasn’t. I was going somewhere else and the path I chose was not the way to get there.

BBC Lesson Number 3: Wait patiently for your access to be granted. Stop trying to force things to happen that you may not be ready to receive. The security level attached to my badge is directly related to my identification and my job role. Higher security levels come with more responsibilities. If you're not ready for those responsibilities, you don't need to jump ahead of the line to use the access pass, either. I am right where I belong based on my experience and where God has placed me in this season.​ And so are you.

BBC Lesson Number 4: Remember that it is OK that God knows more than we do. Trust that He will share what we need to know, when we need to know it. Until then, trust what we do know. And we know that He is good. He is good and He will work all things together for our good, as long as we love Him. 

"Desire without knowledge is not good --

how much more will hasty feet miss the way!

A person's own folly leads to their ruin,

yet their heart rages against the Lord."

Proverbs 19:2 (NIV)

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Those Who Have Never Been Told Will See

"Better to love God and die unknown than to love the world and be a hero; 

better to be content with poverty than to die a slave to wealth; 

better to have taken some risks and lost than to have done nothing and succeeded at it."

- Erwin Lutzer

It has been over a month since my last post, but that's not for lack of content to write about. 

In fact, life has nearly knocked the wind out of me and some days I'm not sure which way is up. While completing my assignment last night for my missions agency, I realized that I hadn't yet shared what God is up to, other than the conversations I have been able to have in person with a few of my close friends and family.

Yes, you read that right. Missions agency.

I have a missions agency, y'all!

I have officially been accepted as an appointee with SIM, an incredible international missions organization that has over 1,600 missionaries from 30 different nations serving in more than 60 countries. They live and breathe by Revelation 7:9, "After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands."

2nd Flo Single Ladies...and John...at SIMStart. I'll leave your nickname out of this one!

Though I was unaware at the time I began exploring a partnership with SIM, this was one of the many things God used to confirm His call and that He will protect me in this journey.

Ever since I said yes, God has been shaping and molding me and Satan has been equally busy distracting and destructing. But we all know that what he means for evil, God will use for His glory. So I'm learning more than ever to count it all joy.

I've spent my days meeting with recruiters from SIM, as well as meeting with a sweet family who is moving to India to explore the possibility of going back with them, partnering with missionaries with whom they will be serving in one of the most dense states in all of India.

I took the longest Scantron assessment of my life, but I learned that I'm not as crazy as I should be. 

I, along with many of you faithful friends, spent many hours praying for clarity, for direction, for peace, and for doors to be opened and closed appropriately.

I questioned. I doubted. And finally, last month at our four-day orientation, as I sat across a group of other young, unmarried, childless women who are all giving up their "American dreams" to move across the world I realized (again) that I have the greatest honor and privilege I could ever be given, and I yearn to share about the Person who has given me this honor and privilege to others. 

The One who continuously loves me and forgives me and teaches me no matter how bad I screw up (which is pretty bad and pretty often). 

The Father who makes me want to die empty so that others can be filled. 

So, funny story: I'm not actually going back to India. 

After many prayers over returning to India with SIM, with Joyce Meyer Ministries (with whom my church partnered for the short-term trip) or serving with the family I had met with several times (even though I share their passion for the work of which they will be a part) I did not feel God calling me back there. 

Pending confirmation from the field director, however, I will be moving to Lima, Peru next year!

Lima, Peru. 

South A-freaking-merica. 

The closest I've been was a short-term exchange program in high school where we stayed in Olmue, Chile and hiked the Andes Mountains. An incredible experience in itself, but it had absolutely nothing to do with missions. And pretty much nothing to do with Peru.

You can imagine that this, too, came with some unexpected fights. Yes, I fought with God. I yelled at Him again, because I clearly don't learn the first time. There were days I didn't pray at all. I just sat in a state of confusion. But the one thing I did right was listen. I listened to God, and oh, did He speak. And my prayers, did He answer. He closed doors...firmly. He turned deadbolts. He locked windows. He answered. And He gave me an incredible peace about the door that was wide open, the door I never would have chosen, the door He chose for me.

Though it is the furthest thing from what I am equipped to do, it is the most beautiful opportunity and I know I will only be able to complete this assignment by pressing into Jesus. And if that's not what this is all about, well then there's no point leaving in the first place.

So now I spend my days, between my two jobs and some semblance of a life, completing assignments for my missions classes and watching videos and planning outreach activities and preparing for this idea that has become a reality. I won't be leaving until Spring of next year (hopefully!), but life has drastically changed.

I mentioned in my post announcing my decision that I was terrified. And that was true. But since then I have been reminded over and over again that when God created me there were a lot of things He left out, and one of those is the spirit of fear. Thank God I don't have to attach myself to that spirit of fear.

"My ambition has always been to preach the Good News

where the name of Christ has never been heard,

rather than where a church has already been started by someone else.

I have been following the plan spoken of in the Scriptures,

where it says,

'Those who have never been told about him will see,

and those who have never heard of him will understand.'"

Romans 15:20-21

I'll be posting soon about what I'll actually be doing between the Amazon and Machu Picchu so don't be a stranger.

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The Grace to Die Empty

To die empty.

That’s what I want to do. Don’t you?

Maybe not. Our world is terrified of "empty." An empty gas tank can strike panic in someone who doesn't have enough money to fill up again until pay day. An empty pantry or refrigerator can bring fear into the people whose stomachs are also empty as a result, and gives way to feelings of frustration and shame for the inability to provide for themselves or their families. An empty heart is felt by many who have suffered losses in many forms. 

So to avoid any type of empty, we walk through life with closed fists. 

We buy food in bulk and end up throwing it away because it expires, but never think to pack an extra sandwich to give to the homeless person we drive past every day because we need our food.

We don't give to others because we can't seem to find it in our budget, but Karaoke Night and $2 pints sure make their way into our wallet.

We keep our smiles, our laughs, our kindness, our depth, bottled up inside because the last time we let them out we were hurt. We were left....empty.


But I'm not talking about empty in the way that you’re thinking. Not empty as in broken and devoid, lacking something that should be there.

No, no…I want to die empty in the sense that when I take my last breath I can truly say that I gave fully of myself over a lifetime, without reserve.

Without fear.

Without doubt.

Without discontent.

Without apprehension.

Without avarice.

With nothing but love.

My love for Jesus fueling my love for others. My love for others reflecting my love for God.

I've got a long way to go, friends.

I originally chose my URL to be “gracefilledlove” to direct readers to this blog, not because grace-filled anything is what I am adept in living daily but because it is something I strive for. And quite frankly, it is something I am always reminded of how short I fall.

Not only do I struggle with extending grace to others (mainly the people who really push my buttons), I am generally just not a graceful lady. I run into and trip over things…a lot. I spill food and drink, often both, on myself daily. DAILY. I also spill things on other people. And drop things. All the time. Always dropping my cell phone, laptop, scattering papers, getting caught up in wires. I've actually (accidentally, I promise) flung a pen at one of my students’ faces in class on TWO different occasions. Grace does not live here, y’all.

But grace is something I need to receive, and grace is something I need to give.

We talk about how we want to live our lives, whether it’s the characteristics that we want to develop, the places we want to live, the goals we want to attain, the lifestyle we are working towards, the values we want to instill in our families….whatever the case may be.

And it all sounds really good. Especially after going to a conference. Or leaving a worship experience. Or reading a really inspirational book.

But we rarely talk about how we want to die.

Death is painful. Death is depressing. Death is final. Death can be tragic, particularly when unexpected. But death……is inevitable.

So rather than waiting for death to find me full, whether 60 years or 60 minutes from now, I want to practice emptying myself while I'm alive.

Emptying my doubts and fears and worries and bondage and laying them at the foot of the cross.

Emptying my gifts and blessings and love and grace and laying them wherever and with whomever God leads me.

And looking only to the Holy Spirit to be filled up again.

Because we are not filled to become storehouses, we are filled to be emptied again. 

We are filled with goodness so we can pour that goodness out onto others.
What a rather sad life to be so afraid of not having, that I become practiced and proficient in not giving.

If that ever becomes the case, I pray now that the words leaving my lips then would be “take me, Lord.”

People keep telling me how “amazing” I am for stepping bungee-jumping into God’s call to long-term overseas missions. I have heard that more times than I can count. And while I absolutely love sharing what God is doing (I'll be able to publicly share more in a few weeks) and I am deeply humbled each time I hear of how different parts of my story have inspired different people, I find myself cringing at the word “amazing.” So, I’ll say here what I have said to each and every person who has shared in my excitement and offered their encouragement:

I am not amazing. I am not brave. I’m not even really sacrificing anything (except maybe easier access to some dope hair products). What I am….is grateful. I am grateful for having life and freedom. Grateful that God chose to restore and redeem me. Grateful that His love is healing. I wrote in a previous post that "If all God has done for me this far in my life is all He ever did for the rest of my time this side of Heaven, that is more than enough," and I mean it. I could never pay God back for what He has done for me. Being obedient, in fact, is the very least I can do. 

The truth is, I’m nowhere near amazing.

I just want to die empty.

"If then there is any encouragement in Christ,

if any consolation of love, 

if any fellowship with the Spirit, 

if any affection and mercy,

fulfill my joy by thinking the same way, 

having the same love, 

sharing the same feelings,

focusing on one foal.

Do nothing out of rivalry or conceit,

but in humility consider others as more important than yourselves.

Everyone should look out not only for his own interests, 

but also for the interests of others.

Make your own attitude that of Christ Jesus, 

who, existing in the form of God, 

did not consider equality with God 

as something to be used for His own advantage.

Instead He emptied Himself by assuming the form of a slave,

taking on the likeness of men. 

And when He had come as a man in His external form,

He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death--

even to death on a cross."

Philippians 2:1-8 (HCSB)

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Take My Heart, Take All that I Am

Beautiful God

Laying Your majesty aside

You reached out in love to show me life

Lifted from darkness into light

"Like An Avalanche" by Hillsong United is one of my absolute favorite songs. So much that I’m surprised I haven’t included it in a previous post. In fact, I actually may have. But if you don’t remember either, we’ll call today’s the first and keep whatever secret that may or may not exist between us.

There are many things that rock my world these crazy days. One of those things is how Siri works. No wires in sight, how do you understand me, freak machine? One is solar-powered energy. I can’t even…..Another one is how much Siri doesn’t work. I paid way too much for you to change things I would NEVER say and that NEVER fit into a sentence and call it autocorrect. Fool.

But another thing that rocks my world time and time again is how much God trusts me.

For the life of me, I can’t figure out why God trusts me so much when I keep proving that I trust Him so little. 

He blesses me. He teaches me. He waits for me. He listens to me. And then He blesses me again.

And it’s not just about material blessings. In fact, so often it is much deeper than that.

This week, several of my blessings have come in the form of lessons while praying for others. He trusts me to pray for His children. And I suck at it.

A dear friend of mine reached out to me asking me to lift up her youngest daughter and her recent clingy nature. This friend, who is an absolutely incredible wife, mother and ministry leader, is already struggling with guilt in regards to spending a great deal of time away from her beautiful children, and with the youngest’s regression into this “hold me in your womb at all times” phase, she is fighting with the enemy all the more.

As I’m praying for this precious child and her wearied mama, that God would release all negative emotions and break the strongholds of guilt and shame from Mama’s heart while at the same time wrapping up that baby in the biggest blanket of love so that she never doubts her place in her earthly family or in God’s, I hear one thing over and over: you should cling to Me that way.

Ouch. Dang God. I’m trying to be all holy and pray for someone else….is this really the time for convictions?

But He’s right (as if there’s ever a possibility that God is wrong). I should be clingy with God. I should be so desperate to remain attached to my Heavenly Father that the second there is even the slightest chance of separation I fall into such a state of despair that I have to readjust my entire perspective.

And I’m not. I’m far from clingy. I talk to God. Well, mostly these days I beg and I whine. I plead with Him to help lead me away from temptation and then I complain about not having what others have.

Will I ever get it together?

Probably not, because my same sweet sister in Christ reached out to me yesterday asking me to join her in praying for another friend who caught her husband in an ongoing intimate relationship with someone else. My heart broke for this woman. Shattered in pieces. Her circumstance surrounding this situation, her family, the decisions she has to make….I couldn’t handle it.

And so I prayed for her. All day. Whenever I thought of her. I prayed that the reality and the rawness did not smother her, and that even though it hurt more than I could ever imagine she would be able to see Jesus’s face throughout this ordeal. I prayed for her child. I prayed for comfort everlasting to envelope her in those tender moments when she wakes up in the morning and remembers that this is real life, even though she wishes it were just a nightmare. And then I set a reminder to pray for her all throughout the next few days, because that’s what Christians do, right?

Except my reminder said: "pray for friend whose husband is an adulterer."

What is wrong with me?!

Literally, while praying, I wanted to physically harm someone and was completely unapologetic about it.

Now, I’ll be the first to tell you, I ain’t no saint. And I can guarantee, if you’ve been around me for more than 7 and 1/2 minutes, you already know the same. But when God reminded me how absolutely broken I am, and how in my judgment of this man who is tearing his family apart, I am in as much need of grace as he is, I could do nothing but thank the Lord.

I am grateful for these painful moments for the sole purpose that they serve to push us straight into the arms of our loving Savior.

I am grateful for the experiences that show us the reason the only place we can run to is towards God because that’s the only place we need to run.

I am grateful for these times that suck so terribly bad, because they are the only place life is reborn.

And I am grateful for rebirth.

Good Lord, I am thankful for rebirth.
And though I spent the morning beating myself up for being a terrible pray-er, I spent the evening watching the rebirth of my purpose. 

Tonight I began training for my part time gig at this awesome Wine Bar to save money for Uganda. And while I was teaching a beautiful Caucasian woman with long curly hair how I twist my curly hair into an updo (read: upmess, but she liked it) -- right after I internally judged her for what I interpreted as a snobby attitude -- and I was explaining that “yes, I’m literally selling wine to fund my trip to share about Jesus…I know the paradox is uncanny, but can I get an AMEN!” I remembered how much Jesus loves to meet us where we are. 

He meets us when we’re clingy. 

He meets us when we’re independent. 

He meets us when we’re cheating. 

He meets us when we’re judging. 

He meets us when we’re hurting. 

He meets us when we’re broken. 

He meets us and He looks us in the eyes and says, “I love you, still."

And I find myself here on my knees again

Caught up in grace like an avalanche

Nothing compares to this love

Love

Love

Burning in my heart

*If you've never heard this song, listen now!

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I said YES!

When God moves, He moves mightily.

Remember that time I said I didn't know where God was calling me, but I knew it was to missions? 

Remember how I asked you to pray those "unsafe" prayers with me? Well thanks, friends, because God has answered.

Guess what this season of preparation is for....

About six months ago I shared with my Life Group a prayer that had been resting in my spirit to become more bold in Christ, to step into the calling He has placed on my life a faith bursting from within. 

Ever since then, I have been drenched in confirmations everywhere I turn, and each time I ask for another one -- Are you sure this is what you want me to do, Father? -- I'm sure God either laughs at me or shakes His head in exasperation, but He obliges and puts someone else in my path to whisper or shout what He has already spoken.

Meetings on meetings on meetings. So many meetings. Forms every day. So much paperwork. So many questions. Dumb amounts of emails. Prayer on prayer on prayer. Beautiful prayer warriors lifting me up each day. Whispering God's truth in my ears at all times. Praying for me when I couldn't pray for myself. When I was mad at God for asking me to do this. Conversations. Fasts. Tears. Belting out worship songs. Arguments with family members. Celebrations with friends.

God gave me the choice. I could have said "No."

I still can.

But why would I dare?

If all God has done for me this far in my life is all He ever did for the rest of my time on this side of Heaven, that is more than enough. 

And I need to share that with someone who needs to hear it.

So, I'm quitting my job, selling my junk and becoming a missionary.

In addition to that (as if that's not enough), while praying through the opportunities presented before me in regards to my long-term commitment, there was another opportunity presented for a short-term trip exactly to the place my mother shared she felt I was called to go back in January, doing exactly what I wrote about before: Africa, serving women and children.

I'm well aware of how insane this looks to those looking from the outside in, those who haven't lived closely with me over the past few years. 

I understand that to those who have also never experienced the call for missions themselves to go and serve -- because ALL of us are called to missions, but many of us are called to stay and serve, and/or to send -- this may seem absolutely foolish and borderline irresponsible.

I get it. It seems that way to me. In fact, I have cried out to God, many, many times. 

Are you sure, God? 

How is this possible? 

Why are you asking me? 

Don't you know what else I have going on in my life? 

Newsflash: He does know. He knows, because He is making it all happen.

And then one night on my couch, selfishly drowning in my sorrows with Chinese food, red wine, and gross tissues crumpled on the carpet at my feet, it hit me: I'd rather look foolish for God than be foolish for man. 

I'd rather give God the opportunity to show up and show out in such a miraculous way that only He could get the glory because there is NO POSSIBLE WAY I can do this on my own. 

I'd rather do that than pat myself on the back for attaining everything I set out to accomplish in my own human strength.

Quite frankly, I wasn't created to climb the corporate ladder. I absolutely love my job, and I am so grateful for the opportunities it has afforded me. But if you want me to tell you the truth, I could care less about teaching a computer system.

When I think of the precious women with whom I will get to share God's love and tell them that they are treasured and that He sees them and adores them just the way they are, when I think about the darling orphans that I get to love on because they may have never heard that they were loved before -- that is when my heart really starts beating, that is when I truly feel alive. There is no salary and no benefits to match that.

God did not save me for me to sit on my couch. 

God did not save me to hoard His love for myself.

God saved me so that I could share His love with others. God saved me to give me the opportunity, if I so choose, to partner with Him and participate in His wonders and glory as He saves others and calls them to experience the freedom that comes from accepting Jesus Christ as our Savior.

There is no sin dark enough to keep us from God, all we have to do is run straight to Him. For that I am thankful, because my sin pretty closely resembles midnight.

God will rescue you from abandonment.

God will rescue you from abuse.

God will rescue you from alcoholism.

God will rescue you from depression.

God will heal your body.

God will heal your heart.

God WILL provide for your every, single need.

And I know this, because He has done all of those things for me.

As a product of adoption, and then later divorce, I know what it is like to grow up feeling abandoned. Especially in seeing my birth parents several times a year and feeling completely unwanted. Thankfully, I had an incredible mom who worked her ass off to make sure I knew I was loved.

As a victim of emotional abuse and later sexual assault, I know what it is like to feel used and unworthy.

As an abuser of alcohol, I know what it feels like to consciously make unhealthy decision after unhealthy decision just to numb the pain and assert "control" in your life.

As a sufferer of depression, I know what it's like to wake up and feel like you have absolutely nothing to live for so you just go back to sleep.

Unmarried, without children and giving up my corporate job is not where I imagined my life at twenty-five.

But entirely living for Christ, trusting Him for every thing I could ever need, and accepting this call, this is exactly what I am supposed to be doing.
To keep the glory of God's rescue and redemption to myself, to not share that with His children all over the globe, to not love them as He has loved me, that is the darkest sin.

You won't catch me tying God's hands behind His back because He wants to give me a gift that my fear and anxiety won't let me accept.

Yes, I'm TERRIFIED of quitting my incredible job to leave the only life I've ever known.

Yes, I'm TERRIFIED of asking people for money to support this call. So.Much.Money. What?!

But as I lay my dreams at His feet, I have no doubt that He will bring the desires that He has placed in my heart to fruition in the perfect time.

More so, I am incredibly BLOWN AWAY that God trusts me enough to ask me to do it, and I'm humbled enough by His faithfulness to say YES.

"And then he told them,

'Go into all the world and preach the Good News to everyone.

Anyone who believes and is baptized will be saved.

But anyone who refuses to believe will be condemned.

These miraculous signs will accompany those who believe:

They will cast out demons in my name,

and they will speak in new languages."

Mark 16:15-17 (NLT)

*I'm next to the lady in yellow, Mom :)

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