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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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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