Post for Remembrance - Part 2

I loved the study of the Tabernacle. Flipping back and forth from the Old to New Testament. Marveling at the care that God put into it all; looking at the names of all the craftsmen, imaging the humble awe that must have filled them as they worked with their physical hands to honor that which is Unseen and Holy. Realizing again and again and again how Awesome and Holy and Loving and Gracious and Merciful and Worthy is the God I serve. How personal our relationship can be. How great the Gift of the Cross. I began to devour the Word, doing what I’ve knowing for years I was supposed to do but for what felt like for the first time I truly wanted to do…

Then, one night, Heather shared this:

http://www.aholyexperience.com/2013/06/an-internet-love-story-part-1-how-to-live-free/

And my heart woke up again. To the idea of a life outside the mundane. Of a life of joy and freedom and calling. Of being who God wants me to be instead of the me I’m settling for.  And I began to dream again...
Satan knows my number. I only have like 3 phone numbers memorized (one of them an out of date and useless old home number), but he must have mine on speed dial. As soon as my heart leaps towards Africa, he insidiously creeps into my mind with all the doubts, all the questions, all the fears… I’m not worthy. I’m not capable. No one actually gets to live the life they dream of, we’re all settling for fluorescent lighting and counting down to heaven. Who exactly do you think you are? What can do you/offer/give anyone?

And this is why. Why I’m struggling to remember all that God has done since Heather read a blog entry about Peace and Shalom and Uganda and a world that needs people to Love and be Joyful.
So I began to dream and to pray and to wrestle with my own doubts and seek wisdom and peace and guidance.

I started reading. Books like “Unchristian” and “Kisses from Katie” and “1,000 Gifts.”  While house-sitting for Hannah I kept putting down “Kisses from Katie” and crying – knowing that I wasn’t living the life I’m supposed to, but unsure of how to go forward. When Hannah came back from her retreat, we spent an evening talking about God and callings and discernment. I love how God places people in our lives “for such a time as this,” so that we can learn and grow together.

The following weekend I went to a mini-retreat to plan Flipside’s Women’s retreat. Me. The “woman” who still feels like a girl and usually feels a bit out of step with any Women’s ministry event (honestly, I haven’t gone to many…) went for a weekend to Palm Springs to help PLAN A RETREAT.  Excited and nervous I went along for the ride.

The first night the 12 ladies who were there worshipped through song and then were invited to share about things going on in our lives that we could be lifting each other up in prayer about. I didn’t share that night, even though my heart and mind were racing. I thought about it again and again, but decided not to. I figured the moment had passed and that I was just supposed to focus on retreat planning. The whole day of Saturday the team was supposed to hammer out details for the weekend, we didn’t have a ton of time, so we were on a pretty tight schedule. After we listened to Heather share about her topics for the teaching times we broke into small groups to discuss small group questions.

Sometimes I forget how big God is and that He can be in the details. That there isn’t a decision or a moment that He isn’t sovereign over and that He wants to be in control of ALL our lives – even what group of 3 women we are separated into during a 20 minute break out session at a retreat planning meeting.

It was Hannah, Malorie and I. Two women whom I love and respect and have travelled an ocean with and would gladly do so again.

“Why aren’t you in Africa?”

It may be my most favorite and most hated question. Because it affirms that this is where I’m meant to be. That other people can see my heart and passion and believe that God can move and work through me in the place my soul longs for. But it also means that they see my disobedience, my fear, my distrust that God is in control and that He works all things out for His own Glory – and that He is GOOD

Malorie asked. Hannah and I caught eyes and laughed. Because we were taken back to only 5 days earlier where I confessed.

My worry about being worthy, of being Enough. My pride in not wanting to ask for support.  My fear that someone else should go, that someone else would be better, smarter, more equipped.

And these 2 women? These beautiful, Godly women whom I love and admire and respect? Took my fears and worries and doubts and shone the light of God on them – revealing their smallness in view of the Greatness of Our Lord. And they shared their own hearts and the callings in their lives and we prayed and smiled and never quite got to figuring out the best small group questions…

Post for Rembrence - Part 1

I know that there will be tough days ahead. That I will doubt that God has called me, that He can use me, that He already HAS used me. So, per the advice of my Dad, Hannah, Brittany, Jaymee... pretty much everyone, I'm going to start trying to document my slow, lurching, beautiful walk along the way God is leading me.

It was fear.  I knew it then, as clearly as I know it now. That deep unsettling gnawing in my stomach when I hung up the phone with David (the leader of CMFI's ministry in Ethiopia). Trying to find a place to live? Move to a country I'd never seen? Trust my finances to anyone other than myself? Trust my FUTURE to anyone but myself?

I couldn't do it. Couldn't surrender. Ignored all of what God had told me and focused on the anxiety, the fear, the swirling thoughts of all the ways things couldn't work out and how I'd be out of control. Me. The girl who'd plan and save and make sure that there wasn't an I written that couldn't be dotted.

So I copped out. Made references to returning to school, random inquiries and applications to college, half-heart requests for assistance. Because this was something I could control. If I went back to school, if I became a teacher, this was a path with a clear shot. No risk, no fear. Make enough to pay off debt, have a fall back plan. Sure, this meant delaying the call even longer - because of course I'd pay off my debt, of course I'd want to establish a career that would be there if Africa didn't work out.

Africa. With its red dirt and dark faces and sunshine and smiles and places that weren't "home" but called to my heart like no where else ever had. Hands that slipped easily into mine connected to arms and bodies and faces that I loved. Loved without knowing where the love came from, but the songs that we'd sing without me even knowing the words and the laughter that came as we neither understood and yet knew without saying.

"why do you want to go back?" because I'm ME there. In Africa where the unfamiliar fits so much better than the familiar. Where the rough edges of me slid along smooth lines and I find myself knowing God and Me and You and Us so much better than I ever did here in the florescent lighting and convenience stores.

The 1st week of December. I decided I wouldn't go back. I'd make my own path, ignore my hearts cry and follow my pragmatic, fearful, anxious brain towards the path of least risk.

I lasted... 2 months?

I started the year as you always do, full of plans to make a better Me. On my own merit I would become healthier, faster, more spiritual, more worthy. I love that God still works within me, even when I'm ridiculously prideful. During a run I was praying and thinking about how the Bible says God is dwelling within us - how we our bodies are to be living sanctuaries. It hit me hard and I even had along conversation with Anna and Maura about it. So when Flipside announced there would be a study on The Tabernacle, I knew I had to do it. I sucked down my apprehension about Beth Moore (I know have no idea why I didn't like her before) and signed up...